I am /not/ sulking.
Ergh, the past few months have been a headache. Lots of things needed to be done that are out of the way so, for now, I am back.
I doubt I was missed anyway.
I haven't been writing Zelda as much but a good friend kicked me into gear for at least one story.
Me and my odd ships, FFFF.
The god was peaceful as always, perched on the altar of stone. He waited for the shadow to return, listening to the dark velvet voices of the dead. They had been restless since the being of light had come through and cleansed this tomb. Eggshell eyes opened suddenly as he got up, a puppet being jerked to life. Magic so strong it had made the hairs on his neck stand on end.
Oni moved swiftly, cutting down the Redeads in his path, climbing through the remains of a house to enter the deserted alley. The bones of a soldier long since rotten crunched beneath his feet as he slowly entered a barely upright house. There she lay, slumped over a pile of clothes with a blanket neatly tucked over her. The God moved quietly, knelling beside the bed. She was asleep, too deeply so. He touched her cheek, tucking her fringe behind her ear. Her nose still bled slowly, oozing onto the mouldy mattress to join the small amount that had passed her lips. The stench of vomit too clear in the still air.
The man with the haunting dead eyes carefully wrapped up the woman, lifting her from the memories of lives long lost. He took the nightgown carefully from the bed, using it to stop her head smacking against his armour as he carefully climbed out from the rubble. He saw a flash of green flee toward the castle, a moment later and he would've been spotted. A cold dried hand grabbed at his ankle and he almost dropped the woman in his arm, head turning to look at the Redead who lusted after the frail girl's soul. He moved quick, managing to free himself from the death grip.
She lay on the stone, almost still. Blonde hair mingled with the stained brown stone, breath rattling weakly. The god sat on the remains of a marble coffin that once sealed him in, waiting for the woman to wake. He had cleaned the blood off her face, carefully braided her hair. She did not stir for a long time, until the burning light washed over them. Screaming filled the chamber, echoing off the small walls. The woman thrashed around blindly until the light ebbed from their dark tomb, eyes wide against the gloom.
Sheik had awoken again, free from the blood magic that tied her to the Princess.
Oni moved quietly, pressing his palm against her bared back gently. He wore no gauntlets, palms smooth against her. The Sheikah sobbed quietly. Those who said that their people showed no emotion were wrong, their words nothing more than dust. He rubbed her shoulder gently, trying to calm the heartbroken sobs. He offered her his tunic, breastplate left on the ground, forgotten just like them. She looked at him through the gloom, shaking. Goddess she could've been if she would submit, an offer rejected many times and each time was a little more uncertain. Sheik weakly slid the tunic over her head, doing it up with the ornate clasp.
He offered her his hand to help her up, she took it. It was like watching a foal stand for the first time, her short slender legs trembling under her own weight just before she collapsed onto him. The god held the mortal tight, she did the same.
“Mon Dieu...”
The blood eyed woman looked up, hand reaching toward him. Her fingers grazed his chin, the impossibly tall man leaning down. He could smell the magic on her, burning at his senses. She wrapped her arms around his neck, embracing him. Her eyes closing against his neck, lashes grazing soft skin. She muttered quietly to them both, insisting that she could support herself now, that she didn't need him to stand tall.
He smiled, they were always like this. Arguing that they could be without the other when they knew it was a lie.
Sheik did stand by herself when he let go of her, looking up at him with a soft, almost absent, stare. He reached out, touching her cheek. Idle memories of when she would gasp, blush or even pull away rubbed at his mind. She didn't now, any fear for him as dead as those who surrounded them. Her eyes gained a little more focus, growing back to their old look, before the Princess had tainted her with the unholy purity.
She reached for his cheek, he bowed down for her. Her calloused fingertips brushed over the markings, pausing softly at his lips. She knew what it took to be his forever, a kiss. But it wasn't just a normal kiss...
Oni would rip her soul clean from her body, giving her a shard of his in its place.
The God blinked slowly, gently holding the hand on his face. Her breath hitching almost gone unnoticed, a smile growing on his face. She feared him still, the smell overpowering the magic. He did not push on personal space, releasing her hand.
Sheik backed up against the altar, turning her head away. He knew what he had done, fear had opened her mind to him. Oni had given her images of immortal life beside him, trying to tempt her. She didn't appear to sway. He went back to the marble coffin, sitting on the rim and watching the woman panic. She hid it well, no mortal could see it.
The girl moved slowly, taking the blanket from the stone slab, pulling it around her shoulders. Did she feel naked without her cowl? Did she believe that she could be read like a book? He laughed quietly as she pulled the cloth up to cover her face, giving back her cold mask that Zelda had gifted her.
She moved toward him, the slap echoing out of the room. Her bloody eyes staring him down, showing nothing, dead and soulless. It went against everything she just did, his hand going up to his cheek. This was the first time she had struck him, his eyes widening just a bit.
His fox had fangs.
Sheik clutched the fabric tight, looking down at him with those dead eyes. Oni wondered if it had caught up with her? Did she remember the lives she had taken? All the death she had been a part of.
“Blood drips from your fingertips...”
His voice did not echo, her angered scream did. He took her hands, holding them carefully. He always did this when he offered, she would always pull her hands away and give him a flat 'no'.
This time, the woman with the blood filled eyes did not move. She stared at him, challenging Oni without words. He smiled, pulling her left hand up and brushing his lips against her knuckles. The familiar twitch that was usually followed by her hand leaving his was felt, his eyes closing in celebration when she did not act upon this craving.
“You will have eternity to clean them though...”
Er, yeah. That's all I have for now...