Numb ✧ Ghirahim x Reader ✔

chapter 31

[Name] muttered incoherent words beneath her breath, her chest now rising and falling to a distorted rhythm. She scolded herself for feeling so exhausted — and tried desperately to mask her distress. She'd like to minimize the amount of weaknesses Ganondorf knew about her as much as possible.

Steadying her hitched exhales, she finally mustered the courage to stare the King dead in the eye. Her hands were clasped tightly behind her back. While the ropes had since been obliterated, she wouldn't allow Ganon to notice. She wasn't expecting any sort of frailty to shine through him — but even so, she decided she'd attack should he loosen his guard even slightly.

"You know what to do," said the King. [Name] dubiously glanced up, taking a moment to realize he was directing that statement at the two darknuts. They obliged like the loyal mutts they were, wrapping stiff, large fingers around her forearms.

Her fingers laced together, clutching tighter than before. She only hoped the two armored knights hadn't caught on to her missing restraints. They didn't seem to; they pulled her to her feet without uttering a word.

She felt sweat building up in her palms as they strode down the stairs, adorned with tattered blue carpeting. She cocked her head to the side, stealing one last glance at the supposed "god." He was seated once more at the throne, his now fully-powered weapon idle at his side.

Her eyes narrowed. She was roughly tugged as they rounded a corridor, heading who knows where. She felt strangely alone, knowing Ghirahim was now trapped within a sword. She ached for his presence — as much as she didn't want to admit.

"Fucking hypocrite," she muttered to herself, remembering her earlier fury. One of the darknuts jerked her arm back as means to silence her. Her nose twitched, not taking any of this.

"Why am I even alive still?"

"Brainwashing you was the course of action the Master elected," one explained. Their voice was muffled behind their iron helm, but still mostly comprehensible. The other placed a hand on their comrade's shoulder, warning them not to reveal too much. [Name] jolted her head back.

"Why — wait, what? Why??"

It was then that she began struggling against their hold, becoming suddenly very aware of what was happening. A flurry of panic swept through her. She wondered if she'd have reacted the same way if she was told they were leading her to be executed.

The knights were deft in tightening their grip on her. Courtesy of their rather large size in comparison to the average person, it didn't take much to hold her back. She cursed again, stumbling to keep walking as her fear intensified.

Continuing forward, [Name] heard nothing but the echo of metal and leather against hollow marble flooring. She was growing anxious by the second. She'd always wanted to visit Hyrule Castle at least once in her life, but never imagined being a prisoner here. And where was Princess Zelda, or the true king?

She stared at her feet, pitifully trudging across the ground. As time passed the knights' grasp on her loosened considerably, thinking she wouldn't try anything. Which she wouldn't, truthfully. Too exhausted to do a thing. Unless there was an obvious opening, but that wasn't likely now.

When she looked up again, it was just in time to see an archway leading into the kitchen.

The kitchen, which housed bananas.

B A n a N a S .

Without missing a beat, she skidded to a halt. She was offered two suspicious, slightly irritated glances, but she wasn't focused on them. Why would she when there were bananas so close by?

Kicking off the ground, she back-flipped and landed the soles of both boots against her captors' backs, shoving them forward. They recovered swiftly, whirling around to charge after her. But she had darted into the kitchen, gathering as many fruit clusters as she could hold.

Upon seeing them barge into the cuisine, she was brought back to reality and dashed toward the nearest passageway. She would never regret choosing bananas over being brainwashed, but sort of wished she hadn't run away. She was still weary; casually trekking around the castle seemed much more appealing.

But she couldn't go back now — partly in fear of whatever "punishment" might be in store for bolting. She tightened her grip on her beloved fruit with an anxious chuckle.

"Hahaha, I hate myself," she breathed out, sprinting across the hall.

•

a/n

lack of dialogue is lacking //phfhfhfss