Work Text:
There was a silent agreement they had, Link and his Zelda, where she would wear a bracelet with bells and if he could steal it he’d have her attention until she told him to give it back or he dropped it...
After suffering through her meetings today, a silent guard at her back, he was done with acting rational. As they left the meeting room for the hallway, and from there were on their way to lunch Link waited until they were relatively out of line of sight of the others and slipped his finger through the chain and pulled.
The chain came free of her wrist, and just as quickly she whirled on him and slammed him into the wall by the throat. Link hit with a cough, hand clenched tight on the bracelet and smiled up at her through clenched teeth.
“...So I take it you don’t want lunch,” she said and raised one eyebrow. The people behind them abruptly turned and walked the other way – there was more than one way through the castle – leaving them in peace. Zelda scoffed and rolled her eyes before shifting her weight. She released his throat, and Link kicked out at her shin. She dodged, narrowly (she’d shifted her weight without him knowing, her leg not where he’d guessed) and grabbed his shoulder to slam him facefirst back into the wall. Link snarled and she took hold of his hair and did it again.
Pain bloomed over one eye; blood ran down his cheek. Link gagged in pain and tried to cling to the wall (the bracelet rang against his palm and he held it tight) only for her to wrench his left arm – his dominant one – up behind his back.
“You’re just being trouble to be trouble,” she snarled, and picked him up by the waist to carry him to the nearest stairs. Link thrashed in her grip, harder still as she entered the precarious space, and nearly got her to drop him when his heel clipped her knee. She fell hard against the wall and swore, dropping him.
He almost thought it was on purpose, but didn’t care. He bolted upstairs as soon as she did and only seconds later (after a grunt and a pop of her own, her knee set in joint once more) she took chase.
They were two floors down from his rooms; one from hers. Three stories up from the stables, although if he took a window he could drop onto the roof easily. He considered it, but Zelda caught up with him before he could. She grabbed him by the hair again, ripping into his scalp, and threw him to the floor to follow up with a kick to his ribs.
Bone broke, even through the boning of his stays. Link gagged in pain and recoiled, vainly struggling to regain his feet or catch his breath.
Zelda – flushed and grinning widely all her own, wiped a hand over her mouth and simply waited, watching him struggle to regain his feet.
“So pitiful,” she purred. “You’re weak. And after everything you claimed you could do.”
Link snarled and kicked out at her knee once more, aiming to take her down to join him – but she anticipated it. Zelda twisted and kicked out to meet him, deflecting the blow and then dropping to grab his leg and twist.
Bone snapped; he felt something tear and collapsed, sobbing to the ground. Zelda crouched to join him and gently took hold of the bracelet in his hand, tugging on it.
Not hard enough to force him to let go: she was reminding him, asking.
‘Do you want to continue?’
Did I go too far?
Link held it tighter in his grip and bared his teeth at her in a snarl.
Zelda smiled darkly back and reached up to seize his hair once more. “Good. You’re coming with me, then.”
He wasn’t given much choice. Zelda shifted her grip from his hair to one arm, then hauled him up and over her shoulder. Link snarled under his breath and slipped the bracelet over his wrist to free his hand so he could reach up and wrench her earring through her earlobe.
Zelda cursed; her breath went out, hard, and she furiously ignored him, despite the blood streaming onto her shirt. She grabbed his hand and pinned that, too, until they reached her bedroom door and she had to move to open it and let them in.
The room was spacious, too grand by far. The best thing Link could say about it was the faded bloodstains on the carpet from the last time he’d stolen her bracelet. She’d knifed him, then, and as she threw him down to the rug again now she looked like she was seriously considering doing it again. One hand went up to her torn earlobe and she grunted in annoyance before going to her vanity mirror and eyeing it.
A drawer opened. Link watched her ignore him, in favour of doing something quick and probably ill advised with a needle and thread, then she turned and raised the needle with a smirk.
“Maybe I should continue using this for putting you in line.”
Link stuck out his tongue at her. He shifted the bracelet back off his wrist and held it up to slip a bell into his mouth, before Zelda stalked back across the room towards him. Link ignored her immediately again, turning and twisting his leg, trying to set it before it kept trying to set itself – most likely, wrong.
“Shit I should do that, one sec,” Zelda muttered.
Link debated kicking her, but the desire to have his leg functional won out. She felt down his pants and made a few, small (agonizing) adjustments before ending with a more practical use of the movements: she removed his boots, then leaned up and shoved him down onto his back with a grin as her free hand – that just so kindly unlaced his boots and set his leg – found his waistband instead.
In retaliation, Link fisted the bracelet in his hand and punched her hard in the throat.
Zelda staggered; because of it, all her weight slammed into his throat, too, and they were both united in gasping for wheezing breaths for the longest few seconds of his life.
And, at the end of it, Zelda forced her hand into his pants and two rough fingers inside him.
Link grabbed for her hair instead. He jerked the crown off her head, uncaring of pins or clips holding it in place, and raked his nails into her scalp. His left leg flexed and burned with pain he barely restrained himself from worsening; the right tried to close on her hand, to press her deeper or force her out he wasn’t sure.
He hated it; he was so aroused it burned. He wanted to punch her or scream, but he bit down on the urge and twisted his hand deeper in her hair, as if he could sort it out somewhere between her body and his – her hot breath on his face and her hand on his throat or her harsh, sharp, fingers (her nails were too long and he twisted his hips to meet her curved hand inside him.)
“Stupid of you,” she hissed, and she bent her head to bite his ear, too. “You want me until I have you, don’t you?”
Link bared his teeth at her and she shifted her weight to kiss his open mouth. Her hand left his body, and Link whimpered into her open jaw, pushing up as if he thought he’d catch her if he moved fast enough—
Zelda knew better. She jerked back as soon as he tried and reached down to push his pants down his hips, sitting up to strip him only far enough it’d tangle his legs if he dared try to rise. Instead, she straddled his waist and smirked. One hand trailed up the front of his stays until she reached his bare collarbone, then further to circle his lips.
He burned with her touch gone but seated like she was he could barely have reached around her if he tried. Certainly, she’d know if he did and last time she’d broken his arm for it. Link opened his mouth deceptively submissively, and Zelda took the risk and stuck two fingers inside.
Immediately, he bit down.
Zelda exhaled like she was halfway to orgasm herself. She flexed her fingers, driving her nails into the bottom of his mouth hard enough he let go with a cry. Immediately, she thrust her fingers deeper, forcing his jaw open for several seconds before she reclaimed her hand and stuck her bitten and bleeding fingers into her own mouth.
Link watched, breathing hard, until she lowered her hand once more and tugged – once again – on the bracelet in his hand. Link jerked it back with a snarl. Zelda smirked, hard and wriggled in place on his stomach.
“I’m gonna get up,” she warned. “And when I get up, I’m gonna undress. If you want me to fuck you into my bed, you’d better behave, and do the same, or I’ll be fucking you on the floor like a dog. Is that clear?”
Link rolled his eyes, as if he would ever obey a command like that, and Zelda stood and did as she said. He pushed himself up after her, testing his leg for if it felt solid again yet. It didn’t grate, but it was still tender and he shouldn’t stand, not yet. He stripped out of his pants properly, however, and undid his stays so he could breathe. When he looked up, Zelda was in little more than a nearly-sheer shift which rapidly joined the rest of her dress on the floor.
(The maids were going to complain about him again soon, he imagined. Zelda was even more careless around him than anything else. There wasn’t even that much blood this time.)
Zelda saw him nearly upright and walked over without warning. Her body gleamed with sweat, from her toned chest to her thighs, and without the slightest hint of fear she grabbed his hair again and pulled his mouth to her groin.
Link closed his eyes and let her, and he gagged as her cock hit the back of his throat. He held onto her thighs with his nails, unwilling to put weight on his still-fragile knee – unwilling to give in, even if his eyes watered from the sudden pressure in his mouth. He swallowed, teeth carefully at bay.
He’d bitten her for this before, and she had not, in fact, stopped. Half-drowning in blood had been a bit much, so he submitted to the pressure and pressed the bells into her thigh as he leaned back and got a little more control of the moment.
For her part, Zelda had paused as soon as she felt the press of the bells. Her hand went soft in his hair, and Link could and did slip down her cock to kiss the tip before taking it again.
It was a stupid thing to find calming; stupid, but familiar. He missed Ganondorf; missed his cock, too, and while the two were night and day as lovers he looked up through his eyelashes at the Princess and saw for the briefest moment softness in her eyes.
He looked away quickly; he didn’t want that. Not now. (Not yet.) He shifted his hand once more, to pull the bells from her skin, and Zelda hummed the barest warning before her hand pulled his head back and she thrust down his throat again.
She didn’t last very long; she came in his mouth and let go, only picking him up when Link collapsed, breathing hard as his mouth adjusted to being empty again. He had no fight being taken to her bed, and – this time – when she tugged on the bracelet he forgot to hold on and it left his hands.
Link immediately protested with a grunt of dismay. Zelda snorted loudly and kissed his forehead instead.
“You’re fine,” she said and hugged him against her chest. “We can still fuck if you want, but its your turn to lead now if you do.”
He considered it; it was definitely still on his mind but without the bracelet, Zelda wouldn’t hurt him again. She wouldn’t even touch him, not first. Not without explicit invite. He took her hand and pressed it back between his legs and – while she kept her nails tucked against her palm – he ground his skin into the heel of her palm until they matched: spent and bloody and tired in her bed.