#thirsty-and-in-denial-Zelda

[zeldaelmo]

It's Throwback Thursday! I wrote this fic for the #thirsty-and-in-denial-zelda challenge here on Tumblr. I made this blog to participate, so it's a lot of nostalgia with this story. 😄

Her index finger slid over the neat lines, most of them marked with the little symbols of the code, she had developed to organize her timetable when she was fourteen.

A crown – for meetings with her father, a little book – a reminder for her study time with Impa, a sun – a symbol she would love to use more often, as it was for Urbosa, a much-treasured doodle of an ancient core – a hint at her meetings with Purah and Robbie and then, of course, that damned sword – not a symbol, more a herald of the constant presence of her appointed knight.

There was nearly no day without his icon and she wondered not for the first time, if the terms of being an appointed knight were so inhuman, that he rarely got a day off, or if he was stubborn enough to refuse them out of his over-motivated sense of duty.

#throwbackthursday #zeldaelmo writes #always on duty #zelink #wow I really still did love long sentences back then #😆

[fatefulfaerie]

#thirsty-and-in-denial-zelda

@snidgetwidgeon @intangiblyyourswrites I did another one.

The real reason Zelda initially shows such an abhorrence to Link is because she’s secretly head-over-heels for him and refuses to show it. Her pride is on the line, after all.

The rules were:

-must be set in the Botw timeline

-when it’s set is up to you (e.g. Pre-Calamity or post, pre-Blades of the Calamity or post)

-no chronology enforced, but I’m interested to see if we can get a somewhat coherent story out of this!

-you may do however many posts/drabbles you’d like

-tag #thirsty-and-in-denial-Zelda so we can find your story!

A Night To Forget

Eight feet apart. Don’t speak out of turn and you won’t get spoken to. Eight feet apart. Always keep her in your sight. Eight feet apart. She dies and so do you.

His duty was drilled in his mind, cycling through his thoughts and running rapid with continuous steps. Don’t speak out of turn and you won’t get spoken to. Always keep her in your sight. She dies and so do you.

And thus his stoic, unmoving eyes were fixed on her in her royal blue dress, the way her long, blonde hair fell down to her lower back, the way it moved slightly as she walked. Link seemed to show no reaction to her figure, her tense shoulders, her balled fists, the frustrated green eyes he couldn’t see. Link trudged on behind the Princess with no expression to betray his mysterious, unknown thoughts. Princess Zelda hated her shadow, loathed its stare upon her in this echoing castle corridor.

Eight feet apart. It was no rule he was told, but Link was a sensible young man.

A Lynel is a ferocious creature, with the strength of an army and the resilience of a hot summer. Yet, the first time Link saw one in the wild, he saw it sleeping. Link’s father warned him not to wake it, to keep his distance and not incur the Lynel’s anger. They stayed a good distance away until the threat passed.

It seemed Link copied the lesson when interacting with his charge. Whether he was being ceremoniously blessed by her highness or journeying with her to Goron City, it seemed best to stay eight feet away from her anger.

And she seemed to prefer it that way, too.

She entered the large ballroom without a word to her knight attendant. Link stopped to stand guard at the entryway and Zelda tried to forget that by order, his eyes would be on her the entire night.

It was absolutely boring, and his feet ached in his brown leather boots like he never thought they could. And, although he had already eaten before escorting the princess to the royal banquet, watching the royals and court members and racial representatives eat made Link hungry.

It was two whole hours until something remarkable happened past conversations out of earshot and speeches dull with monotony, Link almost longing for a Yiga attack just to have something to do.

Yet Urbosa was walking toward him with her arm around Zelda and Link prepared himself for a different kind of battle, standing straighter up. Had the Princess recruited the Gerudo chieftain to hurl her anger for her? Urbosa had a much sharper and stronger tongue and Link knew from stories that the Gerudo language was laced with profanities Link couldn’t even begin to rebuke.

Instead, Urbosa came much closer than expected and Zelda’s eyes were filled with more fatigue than hate. Urbosa looked from her right to her left before she leaned in more.

“I need you to take Zelda to her chambers,” Urbosa whispered. To Link’s surprise, Zelda voiced no objection.

“What’s wrong with her?”

“I didn’t notice until now but one of the Gerudo mistook her age and gave her a Noble Pursuit to drink.” Link’s eyes widened.

“She’s drunk?” Link half-mouthed, half-whispered.

“She didn’t know the difference and with her tiny frame, the one she drank was enough. I should have been paying better attention.”

“You and me both.”

“I’ll go make an excuse to the King,” Urbosa said as she practically forced her into Link’s arms. “You get her to her bedroom safe. The King cannot see her like this.”

So much for eight feet. Link was practically hugging her and vice versa. His cheeks warmed and his heart pounded. Had he ever before been this close to danger?

Link nodded and turned to leave, unable to forget who of all people was clinging to his tunic as he left the ballroom.

“Where are we going?” She asked, slowly and slurred.

“I’m taking you to your chambers, Your Highness.”

“Mm,” she hummed before slowly pushing herself to stand up on her own. She was still close to Link but now only had a hand on his shoulder. Zelda took her other hand and drew circles on his shoulder as she focused on it.

“You’re wearing Link’s shirt,” she said. “You...you’re Link.”

“Yes I am.”

Her hand gripped his shoulder and she stopped.

“Wait,” she said.

Link barely got a chance to turn around on his own before Zelda turned him around herself, with both hands on either of his shoulders.

“I need...to tell you something,” she said lethargically. She looked as if she were about to pass out and Link continued to study her with concern.

She took a hand and pointed a finger at him.

“What do you think of that?” She asked.

“You didn’t tell me anything,” Link said contrastingly soberly.

Zelda blinked her eyes a couple times.

“Was I supposed to?” she asked.

Link let out a sigh and placed his hand on her shoulders instead, leading her to her chambers.

“Come on,” he said, Zelda stumbling a bit. “You’ve gotta sleep this off.”

“Mm,” She said with a soft exhale. “You’re nice...and you’re so sweet, all the time you’re just so sweet. You’re perfect, perfect eyes, perfect hair, perfect teeth. How are you so perfect?”

“I’m not perfect,” Link argued.

“Yes you are,” she said, nodding. “The kingdom loves you.”

She took a pause as Link continued to lead her along.

“I wish I was perfect,” she said. Link readjusted his grip. They were nearing her chambers.

“You are,” Link argued.

Zelda’s lungs erupted in a laugh Link had never heard before. He had to keep himself from getting lost in it, remembering she was laughing at her own inadequacy, seemingly uncontrollable wheezing as they finally reached her chamber. Link closed the door behind them.

“Your Highness,” he prompted to stop her, moving to her to face him as her laughter faded. “It’s time to go to bed now.”

“So soon?” She asked.

“Yes,” Link said with nods.

“Link,” she practically interrupted. She touched the left side of his face with a hand that didn’t try to be gentle. “I still haven’t told you...how perfect you are.”

“Yes you have,” Link said slowly, trying to make her understand, pulling her hand from his face before holding her hands in his. “You can go to sleep now.”

She nodded as she grabbed the cloths of his blue tunic, the ones closest to his collarbone. He was pulled to her and could smell the sweet and yet bitter Noble Pursuit on her breath.

Their noses brushed against each other and Link felt his stoicism melt away. She kissed him quickly, impatiently and impulsively and for a lingering second Link too, thought himself drunk. He could taste the Noble Pursuit and yet he was drunk with love, intoxicated by her perfection. Their lips played with each other like a new toy, like someone picking up a new instrument and simply wanting to make noise, to see what it would sound like.

Zelda rescinded from him quickly, covering her mouth and starting to retch. Link thought quickly, grabbing a nearby basin and bringing her knees before it.

Puke spewed from her mouth just after she thought to move her hand, Zelda’s hands gripping the handles of the basin.

“That’s a bit more accurate,” Link said as he made sure every strand of hair was behind her shoulders. Zelda panted as she stared at the bucket, obviously expecting more. “It’ll be good to get that out of your system.”

A second strain escaped her mouth, Link wincing at the sight and yet thinking she likely had it worse.

Zelda panted as she sat back on her heels and looked at Link, who already had a rag ready and was wiping her face clean.

“This isn’t in your line of duty,” she said as he did. “You are meant to make me look less perfect.”

Link blinked his eyes as they swam in sadness, rescinding the rag. So that is what it was. He was perfect, he pulled the sword and was ready to face Calamity Ganon with no expressed hesitation. She was imperfect, inadequate to rule the kingdom and unable to access the sealing power meant to save it.

“I didn’t mean to,” he said. “The kingdom did that on their own.”

Zelda stared at him and her green eyes pierced straight to his heart.

“Link…” she said breathlessly. Her eyelids were flitted closed. “Am I drunk?”

Link nodded.

“And it’s time to sleep off the rest,” he said as he led her to standing, gently prompting her until, in her tight, corseted royal dress, she lay down on her bed. Link didn’t think that was the most comfortable thing to sleep in but there was absolutely no way he was changing her into anything else. He pushed the thought from his mind as Zelda curled up and made herself comfortable.

Link turned to leave her to her much needed slumber, picking up the sullied basin on his way.

“Thank you,” he heard a small voice pipe. It was almost recognizable and thus Link turned back around to Zelda in surprise. She had thanked him, not only that, she had tolerated him, she had depended on him, she had talked to him and not at him.

She had touched him, leaned on him, clutched him. She had kissed him.

She was drunk.

Link forced that truth to the forefront of his mind as he left Zelda in her chambers.

The morning after, the princess’ knight attendant was at her door. Zelda gave Link a look of resentment and hatred before walking a distance in front of him. Link waited eight feet until he started walking too, ensuring she ran into no danger on her way to breakfast with her father.

Eight feet apart. Did she have a headache? Don’t speak out of turn and you won’t get spoken to. Was she feeling groggy? Eight feet apart. Does she need more time to rest? Always keep her in your sight. Did she remember anything? Eight feet apart. Do I want her to? She dies and so do you.

Link soon figured out that Princess Zelda did not remember that night, and that she never would. Although Link kept it in his mind for a spell, in particular unable to forget their kiss and how it made him feel, it wasn’t long before he forgot everything.

#thirsty-and-in-denial-zelda #zelink #zelda #link #breath of the wild #botw #tloz

[airplanned]

Who Does That?

Thank you @intangiblyyourswrites for the writing challenge.

Prompt:

The real reason Zelda initially shows such a abhorrence to Link is because she’s secretly heads-over-heels for him and refuses to show it. Her pride is on the line, after all.

Rules:

Must be set in the BotW timeline

When it’s set is up to you (e.g. Pre-Calamity or post, pre-Blades of the Yiga or post)

No chronology enforced, but I’m interested to see if we can get a somewhat coherent story out of this!

You may do however many posts/drabbles you’d like

Tag #thirsty-and-in-denial-Zelda so we can find your story!

Summary: Speed-run Link is going to give Zelda palpitations.

Zelda kept her excitement under control when Link finally woke from the Shrine of Resurrection.  It wouldn't do for the Calamity to notice, and even though Link was awake, it could take him months--years even to conquer the Divine Beasts, retrieve the Master Sword, and hopefully reclaim his memories.  She would brace herself and wait.

She was not expecting him to come barrelling into the sanctum the very next day.  A mere blink of an eye for her.  But there he was, rocketing in through a high broken window at a hundred miles an hour, wearing nothing but armaments and blue underwear.  Her mind couldn't fathom it.  Her thoughts caught on the way his arms flexed as he held the paraglider, because that was also absurd, but somehow more reasonable than the fact of his presence. 

Zelda stared, even as the Calamity spun to face him with a roar, and Link unsheathed a sword that it looked like he'd picked up just outside the hall.  The metal glinted like the determination in his eyes.  Wild.  Intense.  Unafraid.

How--

But--

She nearly screamed.  All the work, all the horror through the whole century she'd held back the Calamity in wait for Link, and he was going to blow it all by riding in completely unprepared.  Completely unprepared!  He couldn’t even be bothered to find pants to cover his thighs.  He was going to be murdered in the next fifteen seconds, and then where would they be?  Doomed.  The whole country.  Forever.

Windblight Ganon appeared in a swirl of malice, and even before it had formed completely, Link was...spinning on his heel and running away. 

Oh no.

Link leapt his way up a column, all the muscles in his back straining and bunching as he climbed, the muscles in his rear-- 

Instead of bolting for an exit, he jumped and paraglided back down to bring his sword over Windblight Ganon's head, knocking him to the ground.  He spun, leaning back against the weight of the sword in his hands, graceful as he wailed against the blight again and again.  She watched the muscles of his arms as he deftly switched mid-spin from one sword to another.  She watched as the blight groaned and Link pulled out a flimsy bow and shoot the beast dead in the eye before beating against it again, this time with a sledge hammer.

Just...

Who did he think he was?  Did he even know what the blights were?  Did he know about the pain they'd caused?  Did he know he should be afraid?

Waterblight Ganon appeared, and when Link knocked him to the ground and did his spin move again, he switched to a long halberd so he could hit the beast twice on every rotation, once against the blight’s side and once against the wrist propping it up, side wrist side wrist. 

When Fireblight Ganon lit his axe on fire, Link brushed his hair from his face and took a second to pull out his slipping pony tail, hold the band in his teeth, tuck his sledge hammer under his arm, and use both hands to pull back his hair.  A hint of a canine flashed beneath his lip.  His fingers dug into his sandy hair as he dragged it back, over his long ears that still had their simple hoops from a hundred years ago, drawing, his chest. 

Just...

Who does that?  He was in the middle of a battle!  How dare he?  He was going to get killed!

He braced his bare feet as Thunderblight Ganon zipped across the hall, and suddenly it was there, before him, in his face and swinging.  And Link back flipped out of the way, moving faster than the eye could follow, his feet padding on the tile floor, darting in to stab at the blight.  In a flash, he ripped its shield from its arm. 

And hit the monster with it. 

His nearness to the blinding blue light of the blight’s weapons made his eyes glow, made all the scars across his flesh stand out. He had no idea what was happening, and he had no armor, and he had dodged every blow thrown at him.  He was so fierce, so fast, that Zelda's breath caught and her heart squeezed, because he might actually win this. 

And how dare he get her hopes up?  How dare he show his face like this when she didn't know if she should celebrate or despair.

Ganon himself fired a laser, and Zelda knew it was over--all her hopes, all her wild dreams of--

And Link pulled out a pot lid and bounced the blue beam back so it exploded against the beast she'd held at bay for so long.  And Zelda couldn't breathe through the emotions tearing at her insides.  As explosions surrounded Ganon, bomb arrow after bomb arrow in blooms of fire so thick she could no longer see their battle, she burned with indignation and shock and hope and, and, and--

How dare he make it look so easy!  How dare he make her feel these things so unexpectedly!

She found her shape again in the field, the sky clearing from the red of the blood moon to the brilliant blue of his eyes.  He wiped sweat from his forehead with the back of his hand and rolled out his shoulders in a way that pushed out his chest, and her fingers itched to...  He sheathed his last sword and beamed at her, his smile like the sun and his breathing slightly labored as he stepped forward.

"Do...do you remember me?" 

He had leaves in his hair and she had no idea why she even asked, because she knew just from his bemused expression that the answer was no.

"Nah," he said.  "A ghost told me you needed me."  Then he grinned at her again, and it was so, so--

A ghost told him to come here?!

Goddess above. 

#Zelda #My fic #thirsty-and-in-denial-zelda

[littleredwritinghoodxx]

#thirsty-and-in-denial-Zelda

Thank you @intangiblyyourswrites for the writing challenge.

Prompt:

The real reason Zelda initially shows such a abhorrence to Link is because she’s secretly heads-over-heels for him and refuses to show it. Her pride is on the line, after all.

Rules:

Must be set in the BotW timeline

When it’s set is up to you (e.g. Pre-Calamity or post, pre-Blades of the Yiga or post)

No chronology enforced, but I’m interested to see if we can get a somewhat coherent story out of this!

You may do however many posts/drabbles you’d like

Tag #thirsty-and-in-denial-Zelda so we can find your story!

This is set up pre Zelda’s Resentment, and lemme tell you, she is quite resentful.

Also... this is the most sinful thing I have ever written. Like, ye have been warned. This is rated M shit. And by shit, I mean smut. It’s low key smut.

Thank you @bhujerbanwrites for looking this over for me!

I’ve never written smut before.

Dear lord, please be merciful on me.

Alas: I’m not even sorry.

Please enjoy... The Tip of his Sword

There are rumors floating about the castle: rumors that Princess Zelda is head-over-heels for her appointed knight.

But of course she isn’t. She is the Crown Princess of Hyrule. It would be unseemly for her to think about her knight attendant in that way.

Indeed, it would be uncouth for her to think about the way his hands rest upon her hips, large and rough and hot, adjusting her stance during archery practice. It would be improper for her to think about his sharp gaze, those blue irises piercing straight through her, turning her legs to jelly and rendering her utterly useless.

It would be inappropriate for her to think about him pushing her roughly against her desk in her tower, knocking over all of her books and tomes on the Ancient Sheikah – priceless first editions, how dare he – as his hands grasp her hips, her thighs, her breasts. Absolutely unbecoming for her to imagine him trailing hot kisses from the curve of her jaw, all the way down, down, down the column of her neck, as his fingers trail across her skin like a serpent, sliding closer and closer –

Nope. She most certainly is not head-over-heels for Link.

Erhm… her appointed knight.

She turns over in bed and screams into her pillow, the sound muffled as she tries to clear her mind of him. He is always there, the insufferable thing. How dare he. She has much more important things to focus on, like unlocking her Sacred Powers – which, mind you, she is doing her very best at, thank you very much – or discovering more secrets that the Ancient Sheikah left behind in the wake of the prophecy.

She doesn’t have the time to be thinking about her knight stripping her down to her socks, pinning her to the wall – with his one hand tangled in her hair, the other touching her there, smirking against her ear as he whispers uncouth things to her, pushing into her from behind –

Nope. Definitely not head-over-heels for her knight.

She clearly isn’t going to get any sleep that night, and so she whips the covers off of her and swings her legs over the side of her bed, wincing as her warm feet hit cold, unforgiving stone. She fetches her robe from the bedpost, tying the thin, silk tie at the front and steps barefoot across her room.

A warm breeze drifts in from her open windows. Summer is in full swing, and it is no secret that it is one of Zelda’s favorite seasons. The warmer months mean freedom: it means adventures into the wild to study the fauna, expeditions with Purah and Robbie to some Ancient Sheikah excavation. Her father doesn’t approve, but he knows that mother would have said yes, and thus he doesn’t protest.

Guards patrol the courtyard beneath her balcony and bridge to her tower. Rather than being seen and causing even more rumors to float about the castle, Zelda sticks to the shadows. Summers spent with the Sheikah do wonders for her now, as she disappears in plain sight. Perhaps that had been a mistake for her father to send her away in the years following her mother’s death. Impa had been reluctant to guide her in the ways of the Sheikah, but where Impa was hesitant, Purah was awfully enthusiastic.

She makes it across the bridge, with the door to her study shutting with an inaudible click. Here, she lights a candle, her study awash with the flickering flame licking shadows up and down her body. She sits down in her worn out chair, her fingers trailing her notes from where she last left off.

Ah, yes. Academics. This was the one thing that her appointed knight absolutely could not touch – oh, how she desperately aches for his touch. She and Purah had last been studying the ancient shrines off in the Tabantha region. From their most recent research, they concluded that the shrines were meant to be accessed by the Sword’s chosen one.

And the Sword… had chosen him.

Not to be dramatic, but what in Nayru’s name was the Goddess Hylia thinking in choosing him? Everything came so naturally to him: his ability with the sword, his speed and strength, his stunning good looks… He hardly has to work for his success, and yet Zelda is stuck trying day in and day out to unlock a sacred power that she is starting to believe she didn’t inherit.

She sighs, tilting her head back on her chair. Ever since her father had appointed him as her knight, she hardly ever got a moment to herself. These days, field expeditions with the Sheikah included her, Purah, Robbie… and Link.

He really couldn’t take a hint, it seemed. Try as she might to make him feel unwelcome, there he was, always three steps behind her or standing just beyond their excavation, the tip of his sword digging into the ground as he looked coolly beyond.

Indeed, she has some better uses for the tip of his sword.

She sighs, her eyes drifting closed as her legs part just enough. She can think of some ways he might better utilize it. He might lift her so her ass is on her desk, her legs parted as he steps forward. Her legs would wrap around his hips as he presses his lips to hers, kissing her filthily, all tongue and teeth. He would slowly push into her, hissing into her shoulder while she suppresses her moan. They can’t have the castle hear them, now can they? Her pride is on the line, after all.

She might shove him down onto her bed – a place she’s told no place but her husband should lie – and straddle his hips, grinding hers in perfect, languid circles before finally – slowly – sinking down onto him, biting her lip as she watches his usually stoic facade crumble.

He might adjust the rotations of the Royal Guard – he is the Captain, after all – so that her bridge and the courtyard below are deserted in some part of the night. Then, with not a soul in sight, he would brace her against the railing of the bridge, fucking her senseless as she muffles her moans, his fingers digging crescent shape marks into her hips where only she would see –

She comes quickly – fingers moving desperately within her and practiced against her clit. She tilts back in her chair slightly, riding out the orgasm as a small moan escapes from her lips.

She tilts back in her chair too far.

She comes down from her orgasm as she comes down with a crash, a loud yelp escaping her lips as she rolls to soften the fall. She lays there, underwear tangled around her ankles as she breathes heavily, the sweet cerulean of the moon reflected on her stone bridge being replaced with the soft flicker of the candlelight.

Then: commotion.

“Princess?”

The voice is closer than she would have liked, and even more horrifying: it’s his. She stumbles to her feet, her eyes wild as she yanks her underwear up wobbling legs. Hastily, she wipes her fingers along the side of her nightgown, before running them through her hair, trying to make herself not look so… so…

Disheveled.

She hears footsteps on the bridge – running, she can tell. She hasn’t responded, and she knows that he has assumed the worst. Princesses only don’t respond when they’ve been captured or otherwise compromised.

Because apparently, just trying to work through her own frustration with her disgustingly perfect knight isn’t a good enough reason.

She is frantically replacing her chair on its legs and smoothing out her nightgown when –

The door to her study is whipped open. He stands there, his eyes dangerous and his sword unsheathed – stop thinking about his unsheathed sword.  She stands there, trying and failing to control her panting, wide-eyed and guilty as fuck – don’t think about that, you terrible, foolish girl.

It’s him, because of course it’s him, it’s always him. He now looks relieved to see her – she’s safe, there’s no threat – but then those eyes squint in suspicion. She had yelled out but she was safe. So then, why?

Then, his nose crinkles.

And Zelda wants to drown herself in the castle moat.

Zelda speaks first and it’s more of a babble, “What in Hylia’s name are you doing here? I can’t get some late night studying in without being barged in by my knight? I’m not a child.”

“I heard you yell out and then a crash. I only came to make sure you were alright,” his voice is calm and leveled and she has to fight against her instinct to get lost in it.

“I toppled out of my chair while looking over the ancient Sheikah shrines in the Tabantha region,” She does not need to explain herself and yet here she is, chattering away at something his peanut sized brain couldn’t hope to comprehend, “As you can see, I am perfectly fine.”

He seems distracted, now that there’s no immediate threat. It’s odd, considering he is never distracted. His eyes dart around the small study, looking everywhere and anywhere except at her. Slowly, he sheaths his sword, and the moment stretches out, the only sound between them the grind of his sword against his scabbard.

She tries not to think about that too hard.

“I can see that.”

Oh?

“Then why are you still here?”

That reaction was uncalled for and she knows it, but she’s strung up and panicking and sweet Nayru just take her soul now.

Link blinks and he takes a step back. She can hear the gears shifting in his head. She hates how methodical he is, hates how thoughtful and polite he is.

She wants to make it perfectly clear that she cannot stand her gorgeous appointed knight.

“I apologize, Princess,” he murmurs, his eyes finally reaching hers. His sharp, blue eyes still her and she thinks that she can scarcely breathe. How dare he, “Do you require any further assistance?”

She would be lying if she said she doesn’t.

Instead, she draws upon her wrath, “I beg your pardon?”

“I can call on your maids to draw up a bath,” Link says, quickly, and though it’s dark, she swears she can see a distinct flush upon his cheeks, “Or call upon the kitchens to send something up to help you sleep.”

Sleep. Goddesses know she is the furthest thing away from sleep.

“That won’t be necessary,” she whispers, hoping that the venom on her tongue will hold his tongue. Oh – the things that man could do with his tongue.

Hylia preserve her.

“You’re dismissed, Sir Link,” she manages to say.

She walks past him, back across the bridge, specifically averting her gaze from the railing of the bridge, facing a perfectly full moon.

“As you command, my Princess,” he whispers, and she wants to scream.

She hates him so very much.

#thirsty-and-in-denial-Zelda #zelink #gonna go wash away my sins now #happy to contribute

[spacebeyonce]

I got tagged in the #thirsty-and-in-denial-Zelda challenge by @intangiblyyourswrites​  and I’m here to finally throw down my gauntlet, whattup

the rules for the challenge were:

Must be set in the BotW timeline

When it’s set is up to you (e.g. Pre-Calamity or post, pre-Blades of the Yiga or post)

No chronology enforced, but I’m interested to see if we can get a somewhat coherent story out of this!

You may do however many posts/drabbles you’d like

Tag #thirsty-and-in-denial-Zelda so we can find your story!

and I threw it up on ao3 after 5k words, because my god. so here it is: river rushing through my veins

thanks for tagging me!

#thirsty-and-in-denial-Zelda #breath of the wild #botw #zelink

[jenseits-der-sterne]

#thirsty-and-in-denial-Zelda

@intangiblyyourswrites​‘s prompt:

The real reason Zelda initially shows such a abhorrence to Link is because she’s secretly heads-over-heels for him and refuses to show it. Her pride is on the line, after all.

Rules:

Must be set in the BotW timeline

When it’s set is up to you (e.g. Pre-Calamity or post, pre-Blades of the Yiga or post)

No chronology enforced, but I’m interested to see if we can get a somewhat coherent story out of this!

You may do however many posts/drabbles you’d like

Tag #thirsty-and-in-denial-Zelda so we can find your story!

Below is my contribution to this prompt! Timeline-wise this is set between Urbosa’s Hand and Blades of the Yiga. I hope you enjoy it!

A big thank you to @airplanned​ for reading the not great first draft of this, giving super helpful feedback, and helping my wrangle this into what it is now!

Shifting Sands

Word Count: 3322 Rating: T Posted on: AO3 

The glare of the sun overhead is strong, but Zelda is certain that the glare she’s currently directing at him is fiercer. 

How dare he?

She’d come to the Gerudo Desert to escape his constant presence, not to be dogged by him as she has been for months and months now.

To make things worse, Urbosa aided and abetted him in this! To think that Zelda considered Urbosa to be on her side when it came to her appointed knight. But no! For shame! Urbosa betrayed her yesterday: as rude an awakening as Urbosa’s fury was, it was a great deal worse to come to the understanding that Link’s presence last night on the Divine Beast was Urbosa’s own doing. The Gerudo Chief herself sent word to him. She instructed him to come and collect Zelda after she successfully evaded him for two full days.

And then this morning, Urbosa pulled Zelda aside. She leveled Zelda with a meaningful stare. Her words still ring in Zelda’s mind, “You should know, Little Bird, that I put in a good word for you with your appointed knight. Give him a chance. You never know: he may very well prove to be a good friend.” Zelda scoffed. She proceeded to ignore Urbosa for the rest of the morning until she and Link departed from Vah Naboris.

Today he insists on leading the way out of the desert, citing a heightened Yiga presence as his reasoning. But Zelda suspects another motive:  perhaps he’s finally frustrated with her. Perhaps he no longer wishes to trail her, to have his gaze settle upon her as he follows in her footsteps. Good. Let him feel that way. She’s told him countless times that she does not need him to act as her escort. If he’s finally beginning to understand this, then all the better!

While walking behind him, Zelda does not study the broadness of his shoulders nor the pleasing taper from those shoulders down to his waist. Zelda does not think about how the tunic, the one she crafted with her own two hands, fits him so well. While it’s true that the Royal Blue suits him and that the cut of the tunic accentuates his form in a way that she knows many others seem to find pleasing, she herself does not find it so. Zelda of Hyrule is not so easily taken in by such things.

No. Zelda doesn’t spare a thought for them. She’s pleased with her own fortitude as she resolutely keeps the ire of her gaze focused on the back of his head. 

She will concede that there is some distraction in the way that the hot desert winds pull at his hair, in how the sun causes his sandy locks to shine. 

But thankfully it’s easy to shake such idle observations when he’s just so utterly frustrating. He wasn’t supposed to be here! He wasn’t supposed to know she was with Urbosa. And yet, here he is.

Zelda hopes that he can feel her glare, fixated as it is on the back of his head. Zelda hopes he can feel her anger and how it’s roiling just under the surface. Zelda hopes-

Link stops abruptly and turns to face her. Zelda, steeped in her own anger, realizing this far too late, barrels straight into him. She lets out an inelegant squeak as she collides with his chest. 

The shifting sands of the desert are unkind in circumstances that require balance, and this would certainly be one of them. Link alone, as frustratingly perfect as he is, may have been able to remain standing on his own two feet. But Zelda, ever the unfortunate one out of the two, completely loses all semblance of balance. Her cursed forward momentum works against them both and with that, the two of them topple over, falling in the sand in a tangle of limbs. 

There’s the inevitable jolt as Link’s back connects with the ground, and he lets out an “Oof.” Zelda ends up feeling little to no physical discomfort for he has managed to break her fall.

For a moment, neither of them can seem to move. Zelda’s heartbeat is loud in her ears as she stares at a world suddenly turned on its side. With how her cheek is squished against Link’s chest, she can both feel and hear his breathing.

And that’s not all: Zelda can feel the heat of him through his tunic. By Din’s fire... he’s so warm. Far too warm for the desert. It’s uncomfortable, and yet she finds herself frozen where she is. It doesn’t help matters that he has an arm wrapped loosely around her, his palm pressed against the small of her back. She’s feeling altogether too warm, as though she’s on the verge of overheating.

Link sucks in a sharp breath and shifts underneath her, and that’s when she realizes something: her leg is wedged firmly between his. And his own thigh is pressed between hers.

Zelda’s eyes shoot wide. Her hands scramble to find purchase on the ground and she attempts to push herself up and off of him. But once more, the accursed sand is unforgiving as it shifts beneath her palms and she slips forward and falls back down, cheek pressed once more to his chest. 

It’s now that Zelda realizes that not only is he far too warm, but he’s also… Well, he’s sweaty. This is bothersome in a number of ways, but none more so than the fact that she can smell him. And that itself leads to an even more bothersome realization: she finds that his scent is not unpleasant. A traitorous part of her mind even suggests that it’s rather nice. Augh. Of course, even when he’s dirty and sweaty, the Goddess’ Chosen Hero still manages to smell good. Curse him... 

But all thoughts in this regard are banished when she feels a quaking in his chest. She raises her head off of him once more, her gaze snapping up to his face to find that...he’s laughing. Goddesses, Link is actually laughing. 

In other circumstances this would be fascinating, for she’s never seen Link laugh before. But any wonder is immediately dampened, for she’s certain he’s laughing at her. 

The intensity of the glare she levels at him causes his soft laughter to subside. There still seems to be some amusement in his eyes when he says, “Here, allow me to help you up, Princess.”

Zelda’s ready to be rid of him, so she gives him a curt nod. He braces his hands against her upper arms and lifts just a bit and in doing so he provides her with just the sort of leverage she needs to finally free herself of both him and the desert sands. 

If she scrambles off and away from him a little too quickly, he seems to have the grace to not laugh once more, thank the golden three.

Settling on the ground a safe distance from him, Zelda finally takes stock of her person. Even though her pride is a bit bruised, she appears to be uninjured. Her leggings are sandy where her legs pressed into the ground. She goes to work wiping the sand away.

Link sits up with huff. He rests his elbows on his knees as his gaze rakes over the desert. He takes in a deep breath and then lets out a sigh. 

Zelda eyes him curiously. How he’s sitting right now is entirely at odds with the stiff and prim postures she’s accustomed to seeing from him. In this moment he suddenly seems to be less the silent, proper, and reserved boy she’s known for the better part of three years. At this moment he’s a bit disheveled: some of his hair is matted against his forehead, no doubt from sweat on his brow. Yet more of his hair is sticking out at odd angles, likely from how he fell down into the sand.

It’s all so strange and noteworthy that she realizes far too late that she’s staring at him. And he, seeming to sense the weight of her gaze, turns and catches her in the act. When their eyes meet, she is quick to look away, quick to make a show of redoubling her efforts to remove the sand from her person. 

A few moments later, Zelda chances a furtive glance at him to see that he’s taken out his waterskin. She watches, oddly transfixed as he throws his head back and drinks out of it. She studies the long line of his neck, studies how his throat bobs as he swallows.

Suddenly, an odd flush comes over her face. And in watching him drink...she’s made keenly aware of her own thirst...

Link lowers the waterskin, his gaze focused out on the dunes, and he takes in a deep breath. That’s when he glances at her and, curses, for the second time today, he’s caught her staring. 

But this time Zelda doesn’t have a chance to look away for he holds the waterskin out to her. He clears his throat, but doesn’t say anything. Yet his intentions are clear, for he’s offering her his water to drink.

A beat passes as she stares at the proffered item, and then her eyes travel up the length of his arm to scrutinize his face. While she is used to the weight of Link’s gaze, this is something different. There’s an openness in his eyes…And dare she say that there is something there akin to curiosity?

Zelda realizes she’s left him waiting for an answer when his eyebrows raise in question. She flushes anew. Ah, right, he’s offered the waterskin.

In truth, she’s parched. For a split second, she considers taking him up on the offer. But... goodness, no! To share a drinking vessel of any kind with anyone would be unrefined at best and unsanitary at worst.

A small voice offers up another thought along these lines: if she were to take it, Zelda would be putting her mouth where Link’s has been.

For reasons she cannot explain, Zelda feels her face redden yet again. She’s not precisely sure what the source of her reaction is. Perhaps it’s embarrassment, indignation, anger...?

Whatever this feeling is, it’s frustrating and so her answer to his offer comes out swift and final. “No. The chilly elixir is still serving me quite well. I have no need of your water.”

Link’s eyes widen slightly. “Chilly elixirs combat the heat, but do nothing for thirst.” 

There’s a pause as Zelda attempts to read into his tone. It’s baffling, as the timbre of his voice is less formal than what she’s used to hearing from him. But the difference becomes clearer when she observes amusement dancing in his eyes. Or, at least, that’s what it seems to be. But Zelda wouldn’t know, for Link’s never been playful like this around her before.

“Yes, well--” The irony is not lost on Zelda when she must pause to swallow due to the dryness of her throat. “We shall pass through the bazaar soon enough and I assure you that I will properly hydrate once we’re there.”

Link’s stare remains fixated on her for another few seconds before he nods. She watches as he proceeds to put the waterskin away and then stand. She watches as he walks a couple of steps toward her and holds out his hand.

Ah. He means to help her stand. Curiouser and curiouser. Her brows knit in confusion, but she takes hand, regardless.

Once Zelda’s on her own two feet, he takes a couple steps back. She watches, transfixed once more as he raises his hand to pinch at the front of his tunic. He pulls the fabric in and out and mutters, “Hylia preserve me, I was not made for this heat.”

Well. She would have to agree. He was rather hot to the touch moments ago. For once, she’s at a loss for words and so she settles on an awkward laugh. 

Whatever Link’s laughter and teasing and complaining of these last few moments add up to mean, it is all so at odds with what Zelda’s accustomed to. She has no idea what to make of him right now.

Link’s expression is suddenly serious as he scans the desert, turning on the spot. Ah, now his constant seriousness is certainly familiar. In the same moment, she can see how there’s sand all down his back, on his tunic, his trousers…

And before Zelda is able to think through what she’s doing, her two feet propel her forward, her hand reaches out and then she’s brushing at the sand on his shoulder. Link startles, twisting slightly to look at her, his eyes wide.

What has possessed her to do this, to touch him in this manner? Perhaps she’s not thinking clearly? Perhaps her need for water is more desperate than she realized?

Link is still looking at her over his shoulder as she continues to wipe away at the sand, briskly working her way down his back. His expression is open and, dare she say, surprised.

Zelda frowns. “Come now, you look ridiculous. You’re positively covered in sand and your hair’s a right mess. I simply cannot have my appointed knight present himself in Kara Kara Bazaar in such a state.”

Her words actually cause his cheeks to redden, another notable, yet not entirely novel reaction. She has seen him embarrassed before, like that one time when he was thoroughly dressed down by her father for getting into a scuffle with Revali. Or all those times where he’s been fawned over by the ladies of the court.

Link allows her to keep swiping the sand clinging to his person, but eventually she gets low enough down his back to realize she really ought to stop.

Withdrawing her hand and stepping back, Zelda crosses her arms and pointedly fixes her gaze on the tops of palm trees of the oasis, just barely visible over the horizon. “You’ve sand all over your posterior and your legs. I trust that you can see to that yourself.”

A quiet huff is all that she hears by way of a response. Perhaps it’s meant to be a laugh, but she wouldn’t know, for she resolutely refuses to look at him.

Instead, Zelda takes to pacing, being sure to keep him out of her line of sight as she does so. 

Finally, Link clears his throat. “Does Her Highness find me to be presentable now?”

Zelda stops her pacing and shoots him a look out of the corner of her eye. Link turns about on the spot, offering her an inspection of him from all sides. Hmm. Yes, he appears to be far more presentable than he was moments ago. Her eye catches a spot on his rear still covered in sand, but she takes a deep breath and decides it’s best to not comment on it. 

But his hair, now that is still a problem. His fringe remains plastered to his forehead and that simply will not do. Once more, her traitorous feet move on their own accord. Her hand reaches out, and Zelda brushes at the offending hair. Link, for his part, simply stands still, his eyes flick up to watch as her fingers deftly work to separate the hair from his forehead.

It’s rather pointless, really. She finds his hair, which is sleek and soft, is wet and therefore refuses to cooperate. This is distasteful on a number of levels, and therefore she withdraws her hand. She makes no attempt to hide how she scowls as she wipes his sweat away on her leggings. 

“Sorry,” he murmurs in an uncharacteristic show of what Zelda might call embarrassment. He turns away to brush a hand roughly through his fringe. 

“It’s… it’s fine,” she lies. It’s not fine. He looks terrible, and normally she’d relish in him being less than perfect, but for reasons she cannot explain, today she doesn’t have the will for it. Today has been, so say the least, strange.

“Your Highness, we really ought to keep moving,” Link says softly as he lowers his hand. His eyes track over the dunes once more as he says this.

Zelda draws in a deep breath and stands tall, raises her chin a bit. “Very well.”

Link holds her gaze as he nods. And then he turns on his heel and continues toward the oasis. 

The oddness of the day continues to plague her. Zelda stands frozen, watching his retreating form and finds that her eyes are once more drawn to that line that goes pleasingly from his shoulder down to his waist. Goodness. This makes no sense. She shakes her head and then jogs a few steps to catch up with him. 

Within a couple of minutes, the palm trees that grow around Kara Kara Bazaar come into full view. Thank the Goddess... the oasis is a refuge, a place of respite. Here she’ll be able to finally quench her thirst. Here she’ll be able to ease her running mind by conversing with literally anyone else besides him.

This is when a single word bubbles up in her mind. It’s a word that could spell a different kind of relief for her: escape. Among the hustle and bustle of the Bazaar, perhaps she can slip away? While he’s been uncharacteristically amicable today, perhaps what she really needs is to distance herself from him?

And it’s notable that of late, she’s become rather adept at outsmarting him. 

A plan formulates before she can really stop it. She needs hydration and she will find it at the oasis. Yes, yes! She’ll make a big fuss over how the water must be chilled. She’ll demand that she must go into the Inn to find it. Once inside, she’ll slip out another entrance. Then she’ll be rid of him and his distracting presence once more! This next bit will be a stretch, but if she can beat him to the Gerudo Canyon Stable, then she’ll be able to prolong their separation.

Another thought rises in her mind and to her consternation, it’s in Urbosa’s voice: Little Bird, you know how dangerous the Gerudo Desert can be! Is this plan not foolish?

No, not in the least! Or, well...hrmm. Zelda frowns. She will concede that perhaps there is some foolishness in this plan, but she’s so, so close to the stable that she ought to be able to pull it off!

Besides... the quickness of her heartbeat, the heat of her cheeks offer all the more reason to escape.

It’s settled then. She must be rid of him, for there is simply no other option at this juncture. 

Zelda sets her gaze once more on the back of his head. As her plan to escape him continues to solidify in her mind, she cannot help the wicked smile that grows at the thrill of it.

Link, ever a bastion of calm waters, continues to walk toward the Kara Kara Bazaar. This Hero, this one who’s blessed by the Goddess, remains oblivious. Once more, he’s none the wiser to her scheming, and she relishes in this.

Onward then, to the oasis, for Zelda is thirsty and she will not be denied her cunning escape.

#thirsty-and-in-denial-Zelda #botw zelink #botw fic #i wrote a thing

[clemonade1]

Silent Nights

Thank you @intangiblyyourswrites for the writing challenge. You’ve been so inspiring! Another inspiration I drew from was Chaucer. Props!

Prompt:

The real reason Zelda initially shows such a abhorrence to Link is because she’s secretly heads-over-heels for him and refuses to show it. Her pride is on the line, after all.

Rules:

Must be set in the BotW timeline

When it’s set is up to you (e.g. Pre-Calamity or post, pre-Blades of the Yiga or post)

No chronology enforced, but I’m interested to see if we can get a somewhat coherent story out of this!

You may do however many posts/drabbles you’d like

Tag #thirsty-and-in-denial-Zelda so we can find your story!

When other people looked at the silent knight, they drowned in the ocean of his eyes and tripped over each other just to get a taste of that salt spray. If they were unfortunate enough to meet him in combat the last thing they saw was that same ocean freeze over in molten ice as the distant echoes from his blade were all that remained marring their skin and assaulting their ears. But when Zelda looked at him she saw what everyone else failed to notice the tiny scar that made the smile lines threading away from his right eye step out as lightning staggers across the sky. This meant he had once been a person who smiled freely and lived a life outside of the sword, outside of his duties.

Outside of her.

She noticed how when the wind caught his hair just so, he had a freckle above his left brow that belied the days once spent in the sun no doubt climbing insane rock faces because, why not? Freedoms she had never known. Now he was boxed in by stale castle walls. Now he had to traipse around after her endlessly, ghost her every move, wear that infuriating stoic façade that meant everyone had someone to compare her and failures to.

“She doesn’t even care you know, I heard she doesn’t even pray, just locks herself in the Temple and plays on that Slate she’s got.”

“Haven’t you noticed how she stares at that guard of hers? I mean I wouldn’t mind worshipping him either but she’s supposed to be saving us all. Can’t see it happening myself, it’s all going to come down to him in the end.”

“Speaking of, did you see him sparring this morning? I had to fan myself down just from watching! Glad I’m not on the receiving end of that sword.”

“I don’t know, I wouldn’t mind being on the receiving en-“

Every day. Every day she had to hear the gossip mongers tittering about in the halls, they’d even stopped hushing each other as they used to. Never mind the years of prayer and devotion she had shown to Hylia. And what did they mean that she stares at Link? They were clearly misinterpreting her furtive glares, she is a Princess. And princesses don’t ogle.

Not like them.

They didn’t notice how when he’d return to her chamber doors after his drills he raked his fingers through his unruly locks to try and break them in, they didn’t know how she’d love to be the one who-

Zelda rigidly snapped open the book she had clutched to her chest, inhaling the paper, dust and ink, the momentum of her thoughts abruptly halted. Here she was walking the smoothed out, well-worn stone hall to her chambers. Where others clutched at rosary beads, Zelda's lifeline was her books.

“Princess, are you well?”

Spine stiffening, her eyes merely rolled to glance over her shoulder, “I’m fine, in fact, I’d like to be left alone for the rest of the evening” A polite dismissal he did not deserve, not after the inconvenience he’s caused her since pulling that thrice damned sword from where it lay. An almost imperceptible bow of his head was all Zelda needed to resume her power walk back to her rooms. She needed as much space between them as possible. He was smothering her with his arrogance, and she needed to breathe.

Flinging open her balcony doors, her stiflingly hot room dissipating with the icy blast of outside. Zelda gently relinquished her book on Silent Princesses to her bedside table, her fingers curled ever so slightly to rasp against the cracked, worn cover. I want freckles, I want to not brush my hair for days. Freedom. I need freedom. A longing sigh, well beyond her years, hotly whipped over her lips. Kneeling next to her bed, hands clasped so tightly her knuckles turned white and her fingers reddened, eyes clenched shut as she felt the heat build behind them and a lump claw its way up her throat. As the tears spilled over onto her hands, she pleaded, “Please. Please help me this time, I’ll do anything if you’ll just show me what to do!” Of its own volition, her left hand shot out, wrenched her beloved book from where it innocuously lay and threw it as hard as she could against her oak door.

“Princess! Are you alright?” Came the voice of one of the other guards who must have replaced Link on duty after she had dismissed him.

“I’m fine, just, dropped something.” Her watery excuse sounded weak even to her, but the guard seemed to believe it as she once again fell  into the oppressive quiet of her chambers, her breath misting in front of her face, she crawled beneath her covers.

Kneeling in the frigid waters of the Spring of Wisdom, she recited her prayers to the Goddess through purple lips and teeth that clacked together. This time. This time I will hear her. Jerking her out of her quiet reverie came a voice seldom heard but one she’d never forget, not in a hundred years.

“What is better than wisdom, Zelda?”

Breath hitching, she froze, not from the cold. A hand, so impossibly warm, it singed her skin as it tilted her head up to meet a gaze that eclipsed the immense statue looming behind him.

“You. And what’s better than you?”

“Nothing” escaped her lungs in what could barely pass as a whisper.

Those eyes crinkled into a smile she’d never been graced with before. His hand moved to hers, inviting her to stand as he assumed her place, bent in worship.

“I have been looking for a place to worship; you put me on my knees every day. Let me worship you like the Goddess you are.”

Threading her hands into those wild locks, she gripped hard and oh, how wonderful it felt to have the control she so craved. Bending to meet his lips, his voice ghosted across her skin, hairs prickling, chills and warmth snaking down her spine all at once. “Just let go, Zelda.”

… “Princess. Princess. Wake up.”

Sandpaper eyes scratched open. Bolting upright, her skin aflame, breaths shallow, “What are YOU doing here?!” she hissed.

His gaze flickered to the ground, scratching the back of his head. She’d never seen him so, so uncomfortable, so vulnerable.

“I was out climbing. Your balcony doors were open. It’s a hazard. Not to mention how it’s absolutely freezing tonight. I-I came to close them but you were thrashing about. You seemed,” a deep flush spread across his cheeks, to the tips of his pointed ears, “distressed,” he finished, quietly, still unable to meet her gaze, unable to tell her it was his name she had mumbled as a mantra only moments ago.

“Link?” his eyes snapped to hers. She’d never addressed him by his name, though she liked the way it sounded rolling around her tongue. Her room suddenly felt altogether far too hot for anyone to inhabit; the lava of Eldin itself was surely raging beneath her floors.

“Get out.”

#zelda #thirsty-and-in-denial-zelda #my fic #legend of zelda

[zeldaelmo]

Chapters: 2/2 Fandom: The Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Link/Zelda (Legend of Zelda) Characters: Link (Legend of Zelda), Zelda (Legend of Zelda) Additional Tags: #thirsty-and-in-denial-Zelda, Pining Zelda, Resolved Romantic Tension, Resolved Sexual Tension too - kind of, Tabantha shrine, Memory 3, zelink Summary:

This piece is part of the #thirsty-and-in-denial-zelda prompt, which intangibly_yours started on tumblr.

Zelda founds herself distracted from her studies. Why does her appointed knight have to be so attractive? There's only one way to solve this problem!

I couldn't resist the second chapter, you know I'm a sucker for zelink, especially botw.

"Her index finger slid over the neat lines, most of them marked with the little symbols of the code, she had developed to organize her timetable, when she was fourteen. A crown – for meetings with her father, a little book – a reminder for her study time with Impa, a sun – a symbol she would love to use more often, as it was for Urbosa, a much-treasured doodle of an ancient core – a hint at her meetings with Purah and Robbie and then, of course, that damned sword – not a symbol, more a herald of the constant presence of her appointed knight. There was nearly no day without his icon and she wondered not for the first time, if the terms of being an appointed knight were so inhuman, that he rarely got a day off, or if he was stubborn enough to refuse them out of his over-motivated sense of duty."

#thirsty-and-in-denial-zelda #zelink #Botw #loz

[fatefulfaerie]

#thirsty-and-in-denial-Zelda

Thank you so much for the tag @snidgetwidgeon and the prompt @intangiblyyourswrites.

The real reason Zelda initially shows such an abhorrence to Link is because she’s secretly head-over-heels for him and refuses to show it. Her pride is on the line, after all.

The rules were:

-must be set in the Botw timeline

-when it’s set is up to you (e.g. Pre-Calamity or post, pre-Blades of the Calamity or post)

-no chronology enforced, but I’m interested to see if we can get a somewhat coherent story out of this!

-you may do however many posts/drabbles you’d like

-tag #thirsty-and-in-denial-Zelda so we can find your story!

Be civil, I’m rusty.

Silent Princess

“Go on!” Zelda said excitedly, offering the frog to Link and stepping closer with her knees. “Taste it!”

Link’s hands were up in surrender and he was leaned back, his expression wrought with hesitation.

“I-Is that an order?” Link asked weakly with a glance at the green frog before he couldn’t help but trail his eyes back to hers.

Zelda didn’t even get the chance to answer, the frog suddenly jumping out of Zelda's hands and on to the top of Link’s head.

She sat back on her heels and let out a small giggle at the sight of Link’s eyes shifting upwards. Link looked at Zelda with uncertainty, not to mention a nervous chuckle, prompting her to smile. She focused her glance at the frog as her knees scooted her closer to him along the wet grass, slightly damp from the rain of the night before.

“Interesting,” she said, less than a foot from Link as she observed the frog. “It seems completely at ease. Perhaps it thinks your hair a patch of grass.”

Zelda thought of Link as a mere stand for the frog as she attempted to move herself closer to get a better look. Yet suddenly she felt her knees slip on the damp grass, causing her to lose her balance and fall forward.

Right onto Link.

If he had tried to catch her, it didn’t work, Link’s back forced to the ground and Zelda right on top of him, their legs, their hips flush against each other. Zelda had caught herself with a gasp before her chest met his, or her lips, her arms extended against the ground and her hair dangling downwards.

They were both completely overwhelmed, the pall of silence broken only by panted, heavy breaths. The only difference between them is that Link’s face was flushed completely red, while Zelda kept the slightest bit more composure, her cheeks blushing a pale pink.

Her green eyes searched and searched his face, looking for a reason not to just bend her arms and capture his lips with hers.

Just a few weeks ago she was fighting this, denying and denying that she was attracted to him. All those reasons not to, she couldn’t find a single one as she bent her arms, laying her chest on his, and soon, her forehead as well.

Their foreheads and their noses were kissing and it was a short second before they focused on each other’s lips, how those could kiss and melt and open and reform. Zelda’s heart felt as if it were not only bursting through her chest but through his, the way it pounded at the thought.

Thus she relented slowly, Link and Zelda lips brushing in hesitation, as if testing the waters. Zelda found those waters warm and inviting.

“Your Highness,” Link said against her lips.

“What?” She asked.

“Your Highness!” She heard someone exclaim in the distance, Zelda hastening off her knight attendant and standing up quickly.

Purah came into view as she walked up the hill.

“Oh!” the Sheikah scientist said, stopping at the sight of Zelda. “There you are! I was wondering if I could borrow the slate for a spell.”

“Of...of course...umm…” Zelda looked around herself, at the grass, soon spotting the slate a couple feet away and ignoring that she had also spotted Link standing near her.

Goddesses, he was still here.

Zelda approached Purah, handing over the slate.

“Thank you,” Purah said, about to turn to head back to the laboratory before she studied Zelda instead.

“Are you all right, Your Highness?” Purah asked. “You seem...flustered.”

“Y-yes, of course,” Zelda assured, without much of a breath and with very little composure. “I...I’m fine. I’ll be back down at the lab in a bit.”

Purah gave a nod and headed down the hill.

Zelda turned around to face Link, finding herself speechless, her lips parted as she searched for the words.

“I think it rained yesterday,” she blurted out.

Goddesses she sounded dumb. Of course it rained yesterday. They had both heard it last night.

“Yes…r-right…” Link stammered in reply.

“So the...the grass…” She said, a motion of her hand gesturing to where they were laying.

Laying.

Face to face.

Zelda’s blush grew.

“O-of course…” She heard Link say. Zelda’s gaze was fixed on the ground, the grassy field.

“And the…the s-slippery…” She tried to explain.

“Completely understandable.”

She looked up at Link and her heart swelled. His blue eyes were like an ocean, an ever-changing ocean with new secrets to breach the shores each and every passing day. They moved with such a specific purpose that Zelda loved to study them, get to know him by how he used them. And then there was his dirty blonde hair that was tussled by the wind, the way he stood on his legs, the way he walked, strong and determined, the way he wore his champion’s tunic in a way that made Zelda bite her bottom lip.

Oh goddesses.

Zelda averted her gaze.

“We...w-we should…” Zelda said as she walked to their horses.

“Go…” Link finished. “R-right…”

Zelda’s mind reeled with the reasons why not to love him as she readied her horse.

This was ludicrous. This was scandalous. This was improper.

And yet not really kissing him, not diving into those waters, was all sorts of disappointing.

#thirsty-and-in-denial-zelda #breath of the wild #fanfiction #zelink #zelda #link #tag game #tloz #botw #the legend of zelda

[intangiblyyourswrites]

The Calamity of Link’s Cargo Shorts

Hi. Hello. Thirsty? Want to read a fic about Zelda being thirsty but also in denial? And then add in a lump of humor, fantastic smut, and fluff with a cherry on top? If so, check out @zeldasthicceyebrows‘s fic, The Calamity of Link’s Cargo Shorts because it’s amazing and so well-written and I have tears in my eyes from laughter. 

You won’t regret it. Promise.

#fic recs #the calamity of link's cargo shorts #zeldasthicceyebrows #alskdflasdjf #I'm so serious #I love it

[lorelylantana]

Unconventional Observation Chapter 1: Discovery

Y’all can thank @intangiblyyourswrites and their #thirsty-and-in-denial-Zelda prompt for this.

Next

Ao3

Chapter rating: T Overall rating: E

Zelda slipped into the bath with a sigh, letting the first quiet moment of the day calm her thoughts. Her skin burned, the roots of the chill born from Satori’s waters still hooked around her bones. A lingering bitterness leftover from the source of her desolation. Zelda was sent to the southern mountain to pray beneath the cherry tree, intending to spend three days training there. Unfortunately the trip had to be cut short when she lost consciousness when the first night fell.

Her father had flown into a rage when he’d heard of her failure atop the shining peak. The mountaintop pond was in the south, yet it was proven to be the most unforgiving waters Zelda had set foot in. She ended up succumbing to the cold, the last thing she remembered was the shock that came when she fell back into the frigid water. Though she had no real recollection of the journey back to Hyrule Castle, the halls echoed with eyewitness accounts of how the Hylian Champion charged through the streets with a shivering princess in his arms. When she awoke in her own bed a day later she was promptly told to meet with the king in the Sanctum, where he wasted no time berating her for the break in her resolve. In order to prevent further carelessness, the king ordered any access the princess had to ancient relics be revoked, so that her sole focus would be her training.

Zelda curled in on herself in a pitiful imitation of a hug, shivering as the last of the cold held onto her with a vengeance. Then the water’s warmth won out, and she could relax. She stretched out, resting her head against the lip of the tub. The last shivers left her and she was alone with her peace, waiting until her fingertips and toes were warm before finally getting to work.

 She reached for the first in a great collection of oils, soaps, razors and shampoos. If asked, Zelda would admit that the amount of cosmetic products was absurd, but she felt they were necessary. As the years passed and the pressure weighed heavy on her shoulders, her evening routine became one of the last bastions of peace in her life. It was a ritual that reminded her that yes, Zelda was worthy of care, even if it came from herself. There was also the reality that bathing was one of precious few things she could indulge in safely now that her father ordered all Zelda's research cease. Strict as he was, even the King couldn’t order his daughter to compromise her hygienic standards, so she was free to wash away her worries, if only for a moment.

As serene as she was in her bath, Zelda knew that it was only temporary. She wasn’t sure how well she could function now that one of her essential coping mechanisms was ripped away from her. Even as she relished in these cherished moments away from prying eyes, she relied on her research to boost her ego. Having a puzzle she could solve was her only defense against that crippling impotence leveraged against her on a daily basis. 

The tenuous peace she had achieved shattered when a knock rattled against the door. Zelda hauled herself up with a growl, snatching a towel from the rack, roughly dragging it over her body before donning a robe. She dropped the towel over her shoulders as she walked toward the door to let him in, but he only stood there. In her rush she’d tied her robe a tad loose, leaving an unprecedented amount of skin visible to someone else’s gaze. Her face flushed at the cool air brushing against her stomach but she refused to let him win by reacting to his unflinching gaze.

“Well don’t just stand there,” she snapped, “finish your silly rounds and be done with it!”

He didn’t say a word because he never did, only brushing past her to check for whatever threats might jump out from between the cushions or slither out from under the bed. She sniffed, resolutely continuing on with her nightly routine, which at the moment meant applying lotion before retreating behind her screen to put on her nightgown.

Zelda was lathering the cream on the tops of her thighs when she noticed that her knight had stopped moving, quite unusual during his nightly rounds. Stranger still, he was looking at her, but not at her face, as always. No, he was fixated on her legs, right where her hands were rubbing in the lotion. What interested her the most, however, was the change to his face. Never in her service had he deigned to emote in any way, yet here, swathed in candlelight, Zelda noticed his eyebrows drawn together. She wouldn’t call it glare, but he was focused, transfixed, and if she didn’t know better, wanting. 

Zelda felt like a doe in the eyes of a wolf, but the thrill running through her wasn’t enough to move her gaze away from his face. She was determined to know what could possibly break her knight’s aggravating composure. Her apathetic silence succeeded where words had failed, drawing forth a reaction from her stalwart attendant. He must have noticed her hands stopped moving, because in an instant he was closed off again, blue eyes tearing from her thighs to look into hers. His expression was blank once more, but he couldn’t stop the blush spreading across his cheeks. She heard him suck in a breath, watched his throat as he swallowed, spun on his heel and left without his standard bow. 

How odd.

She slipped into her nightgown, shivering as the cool silk ran down her body, the teasing caress calling the look on her knight’s face to her mind. Zelda felt a heat spread throughout her body from a cinder burning low in her stomach. She spent the better part of an hour twisting in her sheets, trying to name this feeling that flared up so suddenly. 

This thrill wasn’t completely unfamiliar. Zelda had the distinct impression that she’d felt wisps and traces of it before, but never this insistent, pulsing throb in her stomach. All of this because of a single change in her hated knight, it was confounding.

Zelda sat up, sliding her legs from under the covers. Of course! That’s what this feeling was! She hurried to her desk and rummaged around in the drawers of her writing desk, setting a blank journal on her desk. Opening to a blank page, she began to record every painstaking detail of the anomaly she could recall, from his uncharacteristically hurried departure to the blush on his cheeks. Recalling the look in his eyes added fuel to the burning curiosity inside her. She may have lost access to ancient technology, but she had a far more interesting subject to study.

If she couldn’t uncover the secrets of the past, she would delve into the mysteries of the present, and none were so enigmatic as her knight, whom she’d just witnessed lower his guard. It was a small, brief change, but she was confident in her abilities as a scientist, and she would crack him open until she knew just how he ticked. 

Who knows, perhaps this new line of questioning would have practical applications as well.

#zelink #botw zelink #link #zelda #fanfic #Unconventional Observation #botw link #botw zelda

[zelink-prompts]

Masterlist

An index of all the prompts and challenges done. Listed alphabetically.

12 Days of Christmas (2020)

Handwriting Challenge

Thirsty-and-in-Denial-Zelda

#masterlist #index