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“When I first saw you, the end was soon.” Link started, holding Zelda in his arms on her bed as her chest shook with quiet sobs. It was calmer than when they first laid down, but he could see the words of her father spiraling in her pretty head. He knew it was time to start talking.
She looked up at him with confusion at where the sentence was going. He carded his hand through her golden hair, smoothing down the roughened places.
“Remember it? When we first met, the news of the Calamity’s approach was still fairly new. Or at least, the increase of your training was. You went around stepping lightly, fearing the end of the world was right around the corner. I watched you, your hands shook constantly when they weren’t clasped to your chest. All I wanted was to hold them.” he continued, reaching a hand down to wrap around one of hers in emphasis. She breathed out slowly, a small smile playing at the corners of her mouth.
“You give your heart and soul to charity. But the rest of you, the best of you , it belongs to me. You know that?” His touch was slow, comforting, but possessive as his other hand came from being wrapped around her hair to guiding her in by her chin to a slow kiss. It ended, and their eyes met.
“I’d imagine its more the worst of me,” Zelda sighed, brows coming together in doubt. He ran a thumb across one of them, smoothing down the sorrowful expression before it could stick.
“Never. Your true thoughts and feelings? Your eagerness to please, and the strength of it when its actually rewarded? Your beautiful, fragile love? They’re the things I cherish more than life itself.” he whispered to her, smiling with a kind of softness only she could coax from him. He kissed her forehead. Tears welled up in her eyes at his praise. He shushed her.
“Shh my love, you deserve every word of praise and more.” he dotted featherlight kisses over her cheeks, catching the spilled drops of disbelief. He couldn’t reverse the damage done to her by the scathing words and deeds of others, not overnight. But he’d do anything to make her believe him one day.
“I know the others -your father, the court- wouldn’t have me saying such things to you. They’d lose their tempers, the lot of them. But Zelda, ain't it a gentle sound, the rolling in the graves? Ain't it like thunder under earth, the sound it makes? Ain't it exciting you, the rumble where you lay? Ain't you my baby?” his accent came out strong as he leaned into her ear and rumbled words straight from his heart to her. He heard her breath catch at them, at the thought of her adversaries’ disdain, the undertone of just how much he wanted her, needed her, as he reminded her of her place.
“Ain’t you my babe?” he said, almost growling, hands on her tightening. She whimpered, nodding. It wasn’t a sound of fear, but of the adoration and need for him welling up in her. He moved, a little lower, and placed a kiss against the side of her neck, nipping softly. Not enough to leave a mark, never, but enough to bring a gasp from her.
“Nothin’ fucks with my baby. Nothin’, nothin’, nothin’ …” he trailed off, kisses and bites punctuating the words as he growled them into her skin. His hands came to rest on her hips as he leaned over her, swinging a leg over hers to straddle her. She made a needy sound into his hair, her own delicate fingers coming up to tangle in it.
It was often that these nights, started with fights between father and daughter, ended in passionate engagements that struck all memory from his princess’ mind. It wasn’t surprising that the first step upon shutting the door behind himself was to divest them of their clothes, knowing what would soon come and that stripping away the evidence of her obligations eased her nerves. But they normally didn’t come with such admissions from him, such proof of the fury he felt towards those who scorned her. He tried to keep that down, opting for gentleness that she so desperately craved. But this time the anger spurred his soul, the primal need to protect holding him like a vice, and he needed her to know just how far he’d go for her.
“If I was born as a blackthorn tree I'd wanna be felled by you, held by you , fuel the pyre of your enemies…” The words came as low whispers against the soft skin of her chest, before his lips wrapped around a perfect pink nipple, drawing a cry from her and causing her back to arch under him. He couldn’t just admit something like that, something so raw and dangerous, and let her have the space to dwell on it. It still sent her heart racing, he could feel it under his fingers against her other breast, but the sensations he wrought pulled the coherency from her mind.
Beyond that, words weren’t needed anymore, only reserved for gentle direction from Link or babbled praises from Zelda. He kissed his way down her body to the mound of coarse golden curls, and felt a shock of heat in him when the first touch of his tongue against her drew his name from her lips in such a reverent tone.
He ground his hips down against the silken sheets of her bed, but otherwise ignored his own need in favor of hers, lapping languidly at the bundle of nerves that caused her legs to tremble against his ears. He felt her nails dig into his scalp, the prick of pain delicious to him. He moaned against her, and she replied in a high whine. He wrapped one arm around her thigh to hold her hips down, and with the other pushed a finger into her wet heat, making her arch above him and almost sob in delirious pleasure. He pumped it into her, searching for and finding the spongy spot that sent her mind to the spirit realm.
His hand held her down, but she still tried in vain to buck her hips against him, crying out as he sucked on her clit in pulses, working two fingers into her in time. The cacophony of noises coming from his princess pooled in him like molten lava, and when she said his name again as her canal fluttered around his fingers, he growled into her. She came hard, and he guided her through it, slowing his ministrations after the waves of sensation died down. He removed his fingers from her but kept lapping at the sweet wetness dripping from her. He looked up at her, cerulean met emerald, and he placed a wet kiss against her clit, and felt her shiver in overstimulation. He smiled.
“Good girl, Zelda.” he spoke, and watched her face somehow redden further. He crawled up her panting body, caressing lines up her sides and stomach as he did so, and he pulled her into a searing kiss, tongues dancing in the wet heat. His erection, weeping precum from the swollen head, settled against her, and she instinctively arched into it. They moaned into each other, delicious friction further driving the haze of pleasure into their minds as they moved together. He ground down against her, dick sliding against her stomach, his shorter torso somewhat a curse in this. He cursed, shaky words slipping out against Zelda’s lips as the sensations he’d been ignoring hit him with their full force. He wanted to wait until she was ready, until the sparks of overstimulation died down, but the feral hunger in him begged to throw that caution to the wind. He needed her, he needed her now , their bodies had to join together in the ultimate show that she was his and his alone.
“ Please , can I-” he started, but she began to nod enthusiastically, her cheek against his
“Yes! Goddess, yes , please!” her words were whined directly into his ear, and he moaned against her skin. He drew back, settling in between her legs, her thighs lining his hips. He ground the head of his cock against her wet folds, slicking it in the wetness, drawing quiet hitches of breath from her. Finally, he situated himself at her entrance and pushed in, hilting himself quickly, and loud moans punched out of both of them. The part of him that had begged him to continue in his mind hushed, they were one now, she was his . Always his .
“Gods, Zelda. You’re so tight, so good for me,” he panted, praising his golden goddess as he rocked into her, and she babbled incoherent praises back to him, voice high and needy and eyes full of lust and love. He looked down at her with hunger, with possessiveness, with all the longing in his soul for her. One of her soft hands came down between them to rub frantic circles around her most sensitive area, and she threw her head back, lost in the throes of pleasure coursing through her. They moved together, Link’s hips snapping against hers as hard as he could, some part of him wishing they’d leave bruises to mark her under her royal clothes. She reached to play with her own nipple with her other hand, squeezing and pinching the bud in her pale fingers as he watched, and he watched with rapt attention.
“Link, I’m close,” Zelda gasped, and he growled. He grabbed her hips and pulled her up, the new angle burying him somehow deeper still, and she cried out, head thrown back against her golden hair.
“ Cum for me, love, ” he directed, voice raspy and low for her, and he felt the motion of her inner walls clenching rhythmically around him.
“Fuck, Zel-” his warning began, but she cut him off, shaking thighs tightening around his hips.
“Inside, please, please! ” she begged, and he leaned down against her chest, pulling her flush against him as he burst within her.
“ Mine, mine, mine, ” he chanted with every rope of cum, every thrust his hips canted against her. His voice came out strained, almost drawing tears from his eyes as he said them, meaning them in the deepest, most primal way. He buried his face in her chest, and she shushed him, gentle hands stroking his hair as he came down from his high, and his mind returned to him from the wild place it had been. He clung to her.
“Yours. All yours.” she whispered, kissing the top of his head. He stayed like that, buried in her, her arms holding him, his hands clinging to her shoulders and digging in his short nails. He was surprised to hear a breathless sob break out of his chest, and he couldn’t understand why. He wasn’t upset, he was the farthest from it he’d ever been.
“Oh, love. Link, my love.” Zelda spoke softly to him, easing him through the drop. She knew the wildness in him, the animal that pulled for control. And she knew the other, softer side, the one that sat bewildered in her arms as he cried, emotions shot. It was overstimulation, she knew.
“I’m okay, just hold me.” he said, pulling a hand away from her skin to wipe the tears from his eyes. She nodded.
“I know. That was a lot, dear. Fury looks beautiful on you, but it takes so much.” she replied. He breathed out, calming, heart slowing. Right. Emotional toll and all that. He just hadn’t expected it to hit so hard. But he loved how she held him through it, understanding him in ways he struggled to. His. All his.