Merry new year, all.

.&.

then

It was a beautifully clear day out in Hyrule Field, and Zelda's appointed knight was carefully ignoring her as he packed the remnants of their camp into his saddlebags. Not that that bothered her; she'd grown more than used to his unresponsiveness over the past few months they'd spent together. He rarely spoke at all, unless she asked him a direct question. Which was fine, of course - more than fine, really - as it let her rant at him uninterrupted.

Which was exactly what she was doing right now.

"You should just go back to the castle and do something productive with your time," she was saying, rather enthusiastically, "rather than following me about. I don't know why my father worries so much, Death Mountain is barely a two day's ride away. I'll be more than fine by myself. If anything I'd be less conspicuous, without you and that sword."

Link pulled the cord on a small bag, causing it to slip shut. He stooped forward to retrieve the cooking pot at his feet, which he then turned his attention to attaching to his saddle.

"Honestly," she continued, "there are about a million other things he could have you doing. I'd be more than fine with an ordinary guard; I've made it this far, haven't I?"

Silence. Even now, a small part of Zelda found herself marvellin at the sheer volume of self control he seemed to display at all times. Not that that was either here or there.

A new thought occurred to Zelda, and she immediatly voiced it aloud. "Unless he's just put you here to spy on me. I wouldn't put it past him either; he doesn't believe that I keep to my prayers when no one is there to monitor me." Her voice turned hard and bitter. "As if I have anything more important to focus on..."

Finally, Link stopped what he was doing and looked at her, and to her delight Zelda spotted a slight marring in his flawless presentation. There, just above where his neck met his left collarbone there was a small but obvious blemish, like a bit of mud or soot that had been smeared there accidentally. She smiled.

It was not polite, she knew, to comment on another's appearance. Better to leave it, and when the other person finally noticed to pretend that you hadn't seen it at all. Princesses were nothing if not polite.

But right now, Zelda was feeling rather spiteful. "You've got a bit of dirt on your neck, you know," she said. She lifted her own hand to drum her fingertips against the base of her throat. "Right there."

Her appointed knight stuttered to a sudden halt, face twisted into an expression akin to one of horror, and to her surprise his skin flushed a deep red colour. All of a sudden he seemed very interested in fiddling with the saddlebags inches away from his face.

How odd, Zelda thought. He had made no attempt to rub the dirt off. And what a strange reaction. Although, now that she thought about it, the blemish had looked more like a bruise than a bit of muck. Maybe he'd gotten into a fight with someone, and was in trouble, or-

Oh.

Zelda fought to swallow the splutter that threatened to leap from her moth like a frog, feeling the sudden wave of heat overwhelm her as all of the blood in her body rushed to her face. Suddenly at a loss for words, she turned and stalked back over to her own horse, tied up in the shade of a tree.

Goddesses, Goddesses, Goddesses. How could he be so... So...

Oh, why couldn't she be back at the castle, cooped up in the stuffy library and surrounded by other people, not out here where there was a painful abundance of silence and lower cut tunics? The Royal Guard's uniform had a nice, high neckline, perfect for hiding such... such indiscretions.

Muttering angrily to herself, Zelda began to untie her horse. It wasn't that it bothered her, so to speak. She had absolutely no bearing at all on what her appointed knight chose to do in his free time. It was just... Well, it was more the principle of the entire thing.

Yes, that was it. The principle.

Still, the thought of Link with a woman, a woman who would willingly...

What even was the appeal, anyway? Surely it would just be awkward, to suck on someone's skin until a bruise appeared.

Great. And now she was imagining sucking on Link's neck until a bruise appeared. Ew.

Horse untied, she found her voice again. "We had better get a move on if we want to make it to the stables by dusk," she said, perhaps a bit louder than necessary. She prayed to Hylia that he couldn't hear how flustered she was, and did not dare look back at him.

Behind her, he grunted in acknowledgement, and Zelda felt a fresh wave of embarrassment overtake her.

She swung herself into her saddle and took of, maybe a little to fast. It wasn't that it bothered her exactly, it's just that it was Link she was talking about, and he wasn't supposed to do... . He was supposed to follow her around like a shadow all day, period. Not sneak off and... and fornicate with other women. She huffed, fixing her gaze determinedly on the looming volcano ahead. It was none of her business. None.

Wait, other women?

You have to admit, he'd probably be rather good at it, whispered that little voice in her head, the treacherous one, the one that would never shut up when she needed it to. You've seen him stringing a bow before, haven't you? He's definitely good with his hands.

Yes, and he was so strong too. She'd seen him carting all sorts of crates and barrels around for the Sheikah, when the pair of them had visited an excavation site. He could probably sweep her right of her feet, could definitely pin her up against a wall and-

No, bad Zelda! Stop it!

What in the the name of Hylia had come over her? This was Link, she was thinking about. Link, her appointed knight, who her father had assigned to her and who wouldn't just leave her the hell alone. How good he was at... that had absolutely no bearing on his role as her protector. None. Zilch. Nada.

The traitorous part of her brain couldn't help but contemplate what he would taste like. He tanned a lot better than she did, and presently his skin was the colour of that caramel sauce that sometimes came with her favourite cheesecake. Perhaps, if his skin tasted like that, it would be enough to make any woman want to suck on it until it bruised, her included.

"Urrghh!" she half screamed, aloud, finding a sudden urge to grab fistfulls of her hair and yank on them. A fresh blush immediately blossomed on her cheeks when she remembered that Link was right behind her, and had probably heard her frustrated vocalisation.

No, he had definitely heard her frustrated vocalisation. After all, it wasn't Link he'd have been making enough noise himself to drown her out.

Maybe he's saving his lips for other things, the voice cackled gleefully, and Zelda fought the urge to clamp her hands over her ears. What in Hylia's name was wrong with her? It was just the heat, it had to be. The heat or the pollen. Her eyes darted about her, searching fruitlessly for some kind of distraction, any distraction at all. There, some plants. Plants were nice, plants were safe...

Plants did not press their lips against the corner of her jaw, calloused hands twisting in her hair, grasping at her hips, while she tilted her head to the side and gasped-

That was it. She'd had enough. There was no outrunning her demons this time; her only present demon was sitting on a horse two feet behind her and it could ride just as fast. She'd have to distrat herself instead. She just needed to make it to the settlement at the maw of Death Mountain, then she could draw the curtains around her bed and scream into her pillow.

And so far the best distraction was proving to be her appointed knight, so why not make use of that? Maybe she could transfer at least a slither of her embarrassment over to him.

"So," she began, firm, detached, calm. "Who's the lucky girl, then?" She turned to look at him - finally - and was immediately struck by just how similar his eyes were to the vast blue sky behind him, their glowing sapphire colour only further highlighted by the blue of his champion's tunic, and- No, Zelda, stop!

She coughed.

"Girlfriend? Fiancée?" she continued, then glared at him pointedly. "Come on, if you are going to be following me around for the rest of my life, like my father has apparently decided, then I may as well get to know you a little better."

Link looked very mildly surprised, which made a nice change from his usual expression of vague disinterest. He probably hadn't expected her to confront him directly about the... issues at hand. "It was nothing!" he snapped, defensively. "Just a-" He slammed his mouth shut, seemingly remembering just who he was speaking to all of a sudden.

Zelda felt her face grow hot again. "It was nothing!?" she echoed, shocked. "So you used some poor girl and discarded her like a-" She stopped herself. This was not an appropriate conversation to be having with anyboy, especially not him.

But of course that was the case, she couldn't help but think. She'd heard stories coming out of the barraks, rumours of all sorts of reprehensible behaviour whispered by her Lady's maids when they thought she couldn't hear them. Of course Link wouldn't be any different; he might have been the Chosen Hero, but he was still a soldier for Hylia's sake. And who was to say that the Goddess was a good judge of character?

He looked at her, long and slow, lips pursed. And then - perhaps safe in the knowledge that she would never be repeating this conversation with anyone in the entirety of Hyrule, ever - he said, "I don't think that it's any of your business." A pause. "Your Highness."

Zelda stuck her nose in the air and huffed, turning deliberately back to look at the road ahead.

He's definitely good at it, the little voice in her head declared triumphantly, and she believed it, because Link was good at everything. Curse him, for being so thrice-damned attractive. He probably had his pick of every woman in Castle Town; there was no way he would ever choose her. Not that that bothered her. Quite the opposite, in fact.

Face burning, Zelda spurred her horse into a gallop, determined to get as far away from him and his piercing blue eyes as possible.

Goddesses, what had she done to deserve this?

.&.

now

The moment they made it through the doorway into the Hateno house Link slammed her against the door and sealed his lips over her own with a relieved sigh. The force of the impact of her back with the wood was strong enough to leave a bruise, but Zelda didn't mind, more than content to focus on burying her hands in his hair and pulling him as close as possible.

"Never again, Zelda," Link growled against her lips. "I swear to the Goddesses, I- I don't think I could do that again." And, as if to emphasise his point, he grasped her underneath both legs and hoisted her up against the door, angling her so she had to lean down to kiss him.

Zelda hummed hummed in agreement, trailing a hand across his shoulders, feeling the delightfully taut muscles beneath his skin as they strained to hold her up. Four days it had been, four days of longing glances and fleeting touches, of hurried kisses in darkened corners and behind unlocked doors. Four days.

"It's sort of pathetic, isn't it?" she gasped, when he pulled briefly away so they could both recover their breaths. "How, we once managed to go a hundred years without so much as seeing each other, and now we can't even last a few days without this."

"I was asleep," he said against her jaw. And then, "Do you ever stop talking?"

Zelda laughed breathlessly, then grabbed his face with both hands to tilt his head back up to kiss him again. He responded enthusiastically, a low growl climbing from the back of his throat when their tongues met, and Zelda shivered and yanked on his hair.

He tilted his hips, pressing her forcefully against the door in a rather... interesting way, allowing him to free one up hand. She moaned into his mouth at the friction, hands grasping at him, tugging him closer, closer. His now freed hand slid up the back of her tunic, grasping hungrily at her waist and trailing up her side, and Zelda released his lips to gasp against his mouth when his thumb caressed the underside of her breast. Her forehead fell forward to rest against his, and their breaths intermingled, chests heaving in time with one another.

She moaned at the loss of contact with his skin as his hand slipped out from under her tunic again, but quieted again when it returned to its previous position under the top of her thigh, and with a quiet huff Link straightened and hoisted her away from the wall.

"Where are we going?" she whispered against his cheek, as he made his way unsteadily across the downstairs room.

She shuddered at the feeling of his voice against her neck. "On an adventure."

He practically threw her onto the table at the centre of the room, causing the floral centerpiece to leap into the air at the impact. He was on her again before she even had time to breathe, hands forcing her thighs apart so that he could step between them, lips moving against hers with a renewed ferocity.

"How," he panted, between kisses, "How did we ever manage back then? How was I able to keep my hands off you?"

His lips trailed down her jaw, his teeth grazing her earlobe, and Zelda tightened her legs around his waist and gasped. "You were a paragon of self control back then, Link - yes, yes - and I was a princess who-" His lips reached that soft spot right between her neck and her shoulder, and Zelda briefly forgot how to speak as she tilted her head to the side and moaned loudly. "I," - she tried again - "I had to stick to these horrid rules, although - Goddesses, Link- please - although if only you knew just how close I came to screwing it all and just throwing myself at you."

"I can imagine," Link said, stopping dead in his tracks to lift his head and examine her face. His eyes burned into her in that way that made Zelda forget to breathe, his voice so gravelly - strained - that she could practically feel it in her core. "I must have had a lot of self control back then, to resist you."

He kissed her lips again, and Zelda melted into him, bringing her hands up to cup his face, tilt his head for better access. Her mind was whirring, now, and suddenly she was struck by a memory from a century ago, of a trip to Death Mountain, of horses, of quiet, confused resentment, of a dark purple mark marring the base of her appointed knight's throat.

Who's the lucky girl, then?

Abruptly, her hands found his chest, and she pushed him off her, gasping for breath. Link jumped back, eyes wide with horror, and he stammered, "I- are you alright, Zelda? I'm sorry if I-"

She tightened her legs around him, holding him in place, and her hands slid up to his shoulders, massaging gently. "No," she breathed. "I'm fine, Link, I just..."

Her eyes fell to his neck, to the soft skin there, a beautiful honey tan colour from the countless hours spent out in the sun. She forgot, sometimes, that there had been at least one other girl before her, likely more. There was nothing wrong with that at all, it just...

Well, she doubted he was to pleased with the fact that her first kiss had been with one of the kitchen boys, as a dare from the daugher of a diplomat, and not with him. Still, just kissing was different, wasn't it? It was hardly a secret between them that Link was so much more experienced at this than she was. Not that he'd ever think to bring it up.

"I just..." she repeated, a little breathless. "I want to..."

Unsure of how to put her desires into words, Zelda leaned forwards and gently pressed her lips against the corner of his jaw. Immediately she felt Link stiffen under her touch, heard his sharp intake of breath, felt his hands drift from her thighs to tighten on her hips.

"Zelda..." he breathed, as she dragged her lips across his skin to press a soft kiss behind his ear.

Where Link had been hot, passionate, - almost animalistic - Zelda was soft and slow, savouring every taste, exploring every crevice. Her teeth clinked against his earring as she leisurely made her way down the column of his throat, pausing occasionally to lavish her attenion on a particular spot. Beneath her touch, Link groaned, his strong hands tightening on her hips in a way that would definitely leave her bruised, tomorrow.

She'd lost count of the amount of times she'd nearly torn Link's hair from his scalp as he'd buried his face between her legs and supped like a starving man, or that they'd stripped fully down to nothing in front of each other, or that they'd made love, but somehow this - being pressed up against the kitchen table with her lips barely grazing the skin of his throat, the pair of them still fully clothed - felt like the most intimate thing she'd ever done.

Eventually she reached her destination; the hot pulse point at the base of his neck. She took a moment to savour the feeling of his heartbeat beneath her lips - a steady reassurance that she was not going to think too much about, not now - before taking his skin between her teeth and sucking, hard.

Between her legs, Link seemed to disintegrate, one hand flying from her hip to press against the tabletop beside her before he collapsed into her completely. His head fell to the side, and the noise that fell from his lips was borderline obscene. "Goddesses, Zelda," he groaned to the ceiling. "You're going to be the death of me."

She released him, and stopped briefly to rest her forehead against the crook of his neck. "Good," she said, simply. "There are worse ways to die." And then she moved upwards again, drawing her tongue along the skin of his neck to catch a bead of sweat as it ran down from his jaw, whilst Link shuddered and released a slurred string of curses.

"Are you nearly done?" he asked, stuttering slightly, like he was struggling to hold himself back. Zelda loved it when he got like this, loved the fact that it was her that had driven him to this point, muscles taut at the effort of staying still, knuckles white as his nails dug into her skin, right had clinging to the edge of the table like a lifeline, voice so strained he was almost growling.

She smiled against him, then sucked lightly at the corner of his jaw. "Aren't you enjoying yourself?" she asked, lightly.

He hissed through his teeth, then pulled gently away from her. He had that look in his eyes, the one that said he was already long gone, like he was undressing her in his mind and had already planned just what he was going to do with her. "I am," he said, voice as low and scratchy as the feeling of his stubble against the inside of her thighs. "It's just that, when you have over a hundred years of lost time to make up for, every second counts."

Zelda leaned back, paused, pretended to think about it. "Alright, Sir Link," she said, slowly, savouring the way he was looking at her, "I accept your proposition."

This time, when Link crashed his own lips to hers, Zelda did not push him away.

.&.

The next morning, Zelda lay propped up on one arm, and examined her handiwork. Link lay on his stomach, head turned away from her, bare from the waist up with the sheets of his bed - their bed - pooled about his hips. In the golden shimmer of the early morning sun she could clearly see the myriad of scars that decorated his torso, now intermingled with scattered clumps of red half moon shaped welts, remnants from the night before where she had dug her nails into his back.

Most important, however, was the dark flush blooming like a flower at the base of his neck. Zelda smiled to herself as she reached out to skim her fingertips across the bruise, then dragged her hand down his shoulder, where a brilliant red bite mark stuck out against his honey-coloured skin like a bokoblin at a banquet.

She was quite proud of that one too; she could still taste the salty tang of his sweat beneath her lips; still feel his vice-like grip on her wrists as he pinned her to the mattress; still hear his earthy groan against her hair as he all but collapsed into her. Maybe she'd have been embarassed once, but not anymore.

Zelda shifted closer to him, lying fully down again so that she could reach out and continue her exploration, fingers trailing down his back, exploring every dip, tracing every scar. To see him like this - relaxed and asleep, body soft, hair impossibly messy from sleep as well as much, much more, face half buried in his pillow - it was so easy to forget just what Link was capable of, that he could take on a hoard of Lynels without so much as breaking a sweat, that he had faced the Calamity itself and lived. Zelda had seen it with her own to eyes, seen him become impossibly dangerous in a matter of moments, his face blank, eyes focused, standing inhumanly still.

Right now, however, he was her Link, with his soft skin and a purple flush at the base of his throat. It was times like this, when the entire world around them seemed to have drawn to a stuttering halt, that Zelda was almost convinced she had died and passes on to the next world.

Eventually, Link stirred beneath her touch and groaned. "What're you doing?" he muttered, voice half muffled by the pillow pressed against his face. Link was many things, but a morning person was not one of them.

Zelda grinned at him. "Admiring all my hard work," she answered, simply.

Link groaned again, then rolled over to face her, blinking profusely. His puppy-dog eyes glimmered in the morning sun, and Zelda felt a sudden rush of affection at the way his mussed hair stuck out from the side of his head at odd angles.

"Right-ho," Link mumbled, then he paused, and allowed his eyes to drag over her bare form, almost hungrily. When his front teeth sank into his bottom lip Zelda felt herself flush red. Her fingers - which had continued drawing mindless patterns against the warm skin of his back - shuddered to a halt. "You've hardly escaped yourself, you know," he murmured, voice thick and rich like treacle tart.

Despite everything, Zelda felt a sudden wave of embarrassment beginning to twist and coil at the base of her stomach, and she hastily looked away from his piercing stare. She did know, she had examined herself earlier. Like she had predicted, her hips and wrists were splattered with scattered constellations of bruises, and she had her own collection of purple markings dotted down her breasts.

"That's not a very proper thing to say to your princess," she mock-sniffed.

Link grinned at her. "From what I remember, Princess, you didn't give a lynel's ass about being proper last night. What was it you were so fond of saying?" He paused, pretending to think, and then his voice took on a much higher pitch. "Goddesses, Link- please, I want you to-"

"Link!"

His grin melted into gleeful laugh, and Zelda sniffed at him. "I did not say anything of the sort!" she insisted. "If anything, you were the one who was-"

"Oh, come here," Link said, pulling her down to kiss him. Zelda melted against him immediately. It was so hard to stay mad at him when he was so good with his lips - even when still half asleep - with one hand tangled in her hair and and the other digging into the small of her back. She sighed contentedly, and Link hummed against her lips.

Thy broke apart, and Zelda brought her head down to rest on his pillow, so close that their noses brushed. Her right hand once again resumed its journey across his skin, eventually returning to its original position at the top of his shoulder, thumb brushing over the purple flush at the base of his neck.

"You're mine now," she told him, proudly.

He looked thoughtful, suddenly, brow furrowed, eyes searching her face. After a moment he exhaled softly. "I guess you're the lucky girl, now," he murmured.

Zelda froze.

She'd been caught, although she had to give him credit. He was a lot sharper than he made himself out to be. "You remember," she said, flatly. It wasn't a question. She chuckled, awkwardly. "Not one of my finest moments, I must say."

His eyes had drifted to a point beyond her shoulder, but she knew that he wasn't truly seeing anything, too busy staring into the time a century ago. "We were on our way to Death Mountain..." he said, slowly. "You'd seen a... a mark on my neck, and you shouted at me a bit."

Zelda nodded, eyes flickering away from his face. It still shamed her even now - after everything they had been through - to recall just how childishly she had treated him back then.

Link's voice had lowered to barely more than a whisper. "Were you jealous?"

Zelda shifted. "I suppose I was," she said. "Although I didn't realise that that's what it was at the time."

"I'm sorry," Link said.

Zelda shushed him. "You'd done nothing wrong."

His left hand came to rest on her waist, lightly, and even now his soft touch threatened to steal her breath away. "Still," he said, quietly, then didn't elaborate further.

They lay there for a while, both silent, and Zelda thought about before, thought about the constant presence of Link's eyes on her back, he himself always just out of reach. Thought about how it had felt to sleep alone at night.

Eventually, she spoke. "And did you remember anything else?" she asked, not sure if she wanted to hear the answer.

Link smiled softly. "I remember you trying to race your horse away from me, only to get stuck behind a caravan of travelling merchants."

"Yes," Zelda said. "That does sound like something I would have done, doesn't it?" She took a deep breath. "And do you remember... them?"

"I..." His eyes misted over in that way they always did when he had to stop and search his mind for a memory of before. It was happening less and less every day, but that didn't mean it had stopped. "Bits and pieces," he said, eventually. "A laugh, a flicker of hair. Nothing solid, the same as with most things."

Not like with you, he didn't say, but the sentiment was still there, buried in the way his thumb was still caressing her side, up and down and up again, like he didn't even know he was doing it.

She nodded thoughtfully and he frowned, reaching up to brush her hair back from her face. "Does it still bother you?" he asked. Zelda leaned into his touch and sighed.

"Why should it?" she responded. "We weren't together back then, and I was downright horrible to you in the beginning. You had no obligation to me besides your duty as my appointed knight." She ran a hand down his face, catching her fingers in the shorter hairs at the nape of his neck and twisting them. "And besides," - she grinned suggestively, and allowed her eyes to briefly dart down to where his torso vanished into the sheets pooled around his waist - "if you hadn't been with anyone else before me, I doubt you'd be so good at this whole sex thing now. Practice is important for everything, you know?"

Link laughed, then wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her to lie half on top of him. "You're fantastic, Zelda," he breathed into her hair. "Never change."

She grinned against his neck, then bared her teeth and gave it a careful nip, just for good measure.

-end-