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The Spring of Unity

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Just survive the trial. Get out of here alive. That’s a simple goal, right? Surely, the Hero of Hyrule should be plenty strong enough to succeed at that, right?

Somehow, he’d never faced an enemy as fearsome as Zelda’s curious gaze.

She stared into his eyes, then his lips, and then closed the space between them. It was a light kiss; chaste, sweet. Doesn’t matter. Her breath seared his skin and redirected his blood-flow in an instant. So soft.

When she pulled away, he followed after her on instinct, only to find air. Zelda wore a shit-eating, self-congratulatory grin. This is going to be so easy.

Link’s nostrils flared at the challenge and he stared back, steely-eyed. He’d proven before that he can hold his own against her mind-games. Zelda didn’t seem to react to him, as she withdrew her hand and stared at him appraisingly, hand on her chin.

Zelda was nervous. When Zelda’s nervous, she defaults to thinking out loud. “Let’s see… if my theory is correct, we need to duplicate your kindness for me, except switching roles.” Link felt distinctly underdressed beneath her gaze. He wasn’t sure if it was his own mind supplied the lewd images he saw, or if Zelda transmitted them telepathically. She smiled that smile at him, then decided something. “Alright, go ahead.”

Dumbfounded, Link just stared at her and her evil face. Zelda raised her brows, both impatient and amused. She grinned salaciously. “Whenever you’re ready.”

It’s like he heard boss battle music but saw no boss.


Zelda reclined comfortably into the mass of pillows, her hair going everywhere. “Just pretend I’m not here.” Horror colored his eyes, and Zelda giggled back at him, a little sound both nervous and entertained. She made a little hurry up, get to it gesture with her hand.

He glared at her. You cannot be serious.

Judging by the look in her eye, yes, she absolutely can be serious.

Link swallowed and rolled onto his back, if just to get away from her knowing gaze. He’d been her appointed knight for quite some time now.  After particularly long stretches of time, when he found his own corporeal needs to be a liability in battle, Link had given in. These moments stolen for himself to relieve some pressure were executed with the utmost stealth and discretion. He’d checked in triplicate that Zelda hadn’t even realized that he was gone. They wouldn’t exactly be described as self-care sessions; Too fast, too efficient.

He’d also never had an audience. Link made a tense noise from all of the pressure in his diaphragm. Zelda looked like she was having the time of her life.

Her eyes narrowed and her cocky grin cut him to the core. “Yeah. Now you know how that feels.”

Way to put him in his place. Link didn’t answer her with anything other than a whine (not that he could) and shakily trailed his hand lower on his abdomen. It was dark in this room, but he knew she could see what he was doing, could see the way his hand trembled. The thin silk of the Gerudo pants was obviously not designed to accommodate Voe anatomy and were essentially useless in the way of modesty.

Link takes it back. This is the most uncomfortable he’s ever been in his life.

Zelda’s breathing changed just the slightest bit as his hand dipped under the waistline. Even with her curious gaze, his body reacted to his own touch. The back-and-forth between arousal and anxiety, over and over again, had left him jumpy and overwrought.

He tentatively wrapped his hand around himself and heat pooled just under his palm. Link tried to focus on that, just that, but the weight of Zelda’s analytical gaze was distracting. She was fascinated, as if she’d just taught a Guardian the common tongue. It’s like she was trying to figure out what makes him tick.

Knowing Zelda, that’s exactly what she’s doing.

Focus! He ventured a gentle pull, if just to coax some of the lost hardness back. Even under the stress, he couldn’t help how it still felt good. Somehow both a relief and a building need at once. Link felt sweat on the back of his knees cling the silk to him uncomfortably.

He gently passed his thumb over the head, feeling his hips cant forward into his fist. Zelda made a soft sound next to him as if he’d hurt her, and it snapped him out of his rhythm.

Oh, that’s why she hissed at him. That’s fair.

Link swallowed, shook it off, and tried to gather his focus again. He forced his arm to resume, twisting at the top and working himself in the way he’d found to be the most effective in those stolen moments alone. Link’s heartbeat drummed in his ears, and the deafening silence did nothing to dampen the lewd noises of friction and rustling sheets. Embarrassment gripped him. There’s no way she’s not hearing these sounds…

The best friend still leaned against his leg.

Maybe he could somehow redirect focus off himself. Maybe he could get another opportunity to use it on her. To watch her writhe at the end of it, to taste her as she comes, like spicy simmered fruit.

He groaned at the memory, then tamped it down. No, that’s not what the trial demands of them! Even if Zelda wants to reciprocate him, he refuses to step outside the bounds of what’s required for the trial. He’d slipped up before, but that only means that he has to redouble his efforts to keep himself in check.

 “Link,” she says, interrupting his pep talk. “I… want to see.”

It’s like he magically acquired more blood, because somehow his face managed to flush while he also hardened in his hand. She bit her lip, watching him with rapt attention. Zelda looked like she wanted to take notes. Instead, she just removed the blue overshirt she wore, leaving a simple tank top behind. Her skin glistened with the beginnings of sweat.

He froze, as if she were a predator that relied solely on movement to see. If I just sit still, she’ll forget I’m here. It turns out that was definitely not the case as she moved closer, slotting the arm he’d unwisely left unguarded between her breasts. She was hugging his arm in such a way to almost be innocent. If Link just turned his hand at the correct angle, he might be able to reach her…

No! Just complete the trial.

“Please?” she says into his ear.

Link shuddered and nodded. It’s hard to say no to that. He lifted his hips enough to push the Gerudo pants to his knees. The weight of her gaze increased, and Link felt himself shriveling self-consciously under her wide-eyed stare. She looked like she had just discovered a new Divine Beast. Something to tear apart and put back together.

Zelda nosed his shoulder and made a soft sound, her hand trailing down his chest while the other held his arm in place. Held in place for a reason, Link found, as her hips ground needy little circles onto the back of his wrist. Desire slammed into him. She didn’t even seem to realize she was doing it!

Any length he’d lost from his bout of self-consciousness came roiling back with a vengeance. Link chanced a glance at Zelda’s face, who was utterly focused, and ran his hand back up his thigh and onto his erection. A firewhip of arousal cracked him and he groaned. Zelda ground a little harder onto him.

Focus, knight! He closed his eyes and tried to perform X action for Y result. That’s all. Maybe this is all the trial demands of them. Just for him to find his own release, and then fully mortified, they can go home and not say a single word about it. That would be fine, right?

Maybe if he works fast enough, they’ll have to just skip over the rest of the things that constitute “reciprocation.” He could escape with at least a little bit of dignity and honor left.

That very well may have worked, but Zelda’s hand on his chest trailed lower, ticklishly, over his abdomen. It shivered under the faint brush of her fingernails and the rhythm of his hand stuttered. Link’s breathing sped up the lower she got. Is she about to…?

She was. Zelda touched him so tentatively he wondered if this was some sick fantasy. Her hand gently curled around the base, testing the girth of him, feeling it pulsate in her hand. As she raised further up him, Link’s hand was pushed out of the way and he opted to bite it instead of release the embarrassing moan that tried to escape him. Curiously, Zelda did as she saw him do: run her hand down the length, back up, gently thumb the slit at the top. Her grip wasn’t quite right and her technique was unpracticed, but still Link’s hips jolted forward as if she’d shocked him.

He gripped his own hair as Zelda released his arm and moved to kneel at his side, fully focused on her work. His hand seemed forgotten about, and she was so close he could reach out and touch her and have her looking just as much a mess as him.

“Hm…” she hummed, “Give me feedback if this hurts.”

Terror swept him but before he could say anything, his breath was stolen away as she tightened her grip and increased the speed for a few strokes. She curiously ran her finger down the vein, back up, then brushed gently over the head again. Holy Hylia! Link’s high, wounded whimper whistled through his teeth.

He’s so turned on, it hurts.

Zelda beamed victoriously, watching him writhe like a cricket without wings. He sucked in the breath that he’d failed to take, panting heavily like he’d never catch it. “Zelda…” he hissed out, a pained sound.

She wasn’t listening. The scholar was so enriched by the experience, exploring his body and testing a multitude of techniques. There’s no way she’d thought of all of those just now! His hand gripped her knee where she knelt over it, if just for something to anchor his soul to his body.  She seems to be having a grand old time pulling pleasure out of him, noting it, then trying something else.

Zelda’s purposefully drawing this out!

Desperation breathed down his neck. If she would just stick with something, remain consistent—He wanted—No, screw this. She decidedly has too much control right now. Link’s hand adjusted underneath her, searching, and he knew he’d located his target when Zelda’s hands stuttered and stilled.

She gasped as he circled her clit with his fingers through her riding pants.

Zelda’s eyes narrowed dangerously at him and she moved to sit just out of his reach, much to Link’s displeasure. “This is about you,” she managed to remind him despite the raspiness of her voice. Throwing his words back in his face wasn’t nearly as effective as resuming her slow torment on the knight. She watched the way his sculpted thighs quivered when she did something right.

Her hand was warm from the friction. Doesn’t that hurt him? He is a proud type. Not telling her he’s in pain would be pretty classic Link. Zelda accessed her bank of knowledge about Voe anatomy, and thought perhaps, if she…

She found the bead of fluid on top, and gently slid it across the skin. Had this not been a memory with no one around,  the noise he made would have guards rushing in to break up whatever violence was going on here. Zelda grinned victoriously. “Have I won the bet yet?” Zelda gloated.

Link managed to peer at her through hazy squinted eyes. “No.”

 That didn’t seem to discourage her. She just shrugged confidently, as if victory was a matter of when, not a matter of if. Her hand resumed a slow, tortuous pace, pausing to collect the pearl of fluid at the top when she felt the friction growing too warm. He was so hard, pulsing in her hand, and yet the skin was incredibly soft. Zelda had never imagined that Link had any soft spots anywhere.

A burst of pleasure spasmed through him, and Link’s legs tried to move, but he was bound by the pants around his knees. Taking mercy on the poor soul, Zelda let go and tenderly helped him out of them one foot at a time. He seemed grateful until she used her new position to settle between his ankles.

Alarm rang in his ears and he sat up to look at her. What are you doing? He fought the urge to reach for the blankets. He couldn’t help feeling self-conscious with her staring at him, almost completely dressed, while he was bare to her. Is this what she felt like when he’d done the same thing to her? This definitely screams of Major Test of Trust.

She set her hands tenderly on his closed knees, and he understood the message: Whenever you’re ready.

He searched her eyes and was surprised at the eagerness in them but found no hint of displeasure or disgust. Steeling his nerves, he nodded and lowered one leg out straight. He allowed her to push his knee aside as she moved in closer, her hands trailing up his thighs in a way that reminded him that he will never suppress this memory.

Any concept of a moment that isn’t right now evaporated as her hand returned to him, gently rebuilding their rhythm until Link felt sweat sticking the sheets to his back. He was so distracted by the white-hot pleasure behind his eyes that he failed to remember that she has two hands. He tensed as she gingerly explored him, rolling each sack curiously in her palms and Link thought he might just die right then.

When it was just him, by himself, none of this care and attention was involved.

He should never have closed his eyes. Taking his eyes off of her for even a moment is a dangerous gamble. He felt warm air on his head, and Link’s eyes shot open to capture a snapshot of what may very well his unknighting: Zelda’s lips hovering just above him, wrapped in her soft hand, staring him in the eye.

She was watching him. Looking to see if he would pull away or tell her to stop. Desire swept through his vivid imagination and provided him with all the fantasies he’d forgotten or suppressed of warm soft slick— and was his control slipping?

It seems she got her answer because she smiled coquettishly up at him, then licked a stripe up the underside. Link’s toes curled and he clutched the sheets like he was scared he'd float away. Maybe she had been right. Maybe this was going to be too easy. This is probably going to end in a very embarrassing mess. This is going to be the hardest twenty rupees to ever pay.

Focus, knight. You can keep it together.

Zelda seemed happy with the reaction, and decided to do it again, this time pulling his head into her mouth and swirling her tongue experimentally, so, so gently that Link saw stars. He didn’t hear so much as feel the moan she made at the taste of him. How did he even get here? Wasn’t he on some holy pilgrimage with the Princess of Hyrule, bound on saving the world?

How did he wind up flat on his back with the Princess sucking his soul clean out of his body?

She took a little more in, her hand working the rest of him, and Link thought he might burst into tears. “Holy fuck, Zelda!” he hissed, grinding his molars into powder.

Her little smug hum rippled through his length and made the soft sacks in her hand tighten. His hips spasmed, seeking more heat more pressure more more! But Zelda just pulled away, leaving cold wet air behind. He growled in frustration and swiped his disheveled hair from his forehead. She flicked her hair out of her way and leaned back down, pressing a chaste kiss to the tip.

He might actually start crying. She was intent on driving him absolutely crazy!

Without warning, Zelda dove forward and took as much as she could. Link cried out in surprise, vicious pleasure ratcheting pressure tighter and tighter behind his navel. She only stopped when he hit the back of her throat. She was inexperienced in maintaining her breathing, and her jaw wasn’t designed to accommodate anything of this size, and Link nearly ripped his hair out from the feeling of her gag reflex.

None of his deepest, darkest fantasies even compared. Zelda seemed daunted, but determined, and readjusted herself, perhaps a little clumsy, and tried again. He felt her envelope just that much more of him, but pain quickly overtook pleasure. “Ah! Teeth! Careful with—Your teeth!” he flinched, and Zelda immediately released.

“Sorry.” Zelda swallowed, then directed all of her perseverant personality back onto her task of pulling him back in, no teeth this time.

I forgive you! Link’s silent scream was stuck in his throat, making a choked sob sound. She was a little more careful, a little more tentative, but was nothing if not a fast learner. A familiar tightness built, flitting over his eyelids just long enough to make him want it, but not long enough for him to ever get it. He knew what release felt like, but in this moment, it was only ever a memory that taunted him.

Link was so distracted that he hadn’t noticed that her hand slipped lower.

She was searching for something, pressing indistinctly along an expanse of skin that he had never paid a second thought to. It felt strange and foreign, and honestly was a workable distraction tool to get himself back under control. That is, until she increased the pressure and found what she was looking for.

Link’s spine arched and he cried out. What was that?! It’s like the curl-your-fingers trick, but on his very not-female body! At his reaction, Zelda swirled her tongue and pressed into the nub again, circling it.

His control slipped. A rush of heat made a sudden move, like an army rushing a fortress, and panic shot through him. “Zelda,” he says urgently, “Zelda—I…”

Link didn’t get a chance to finish that sentence as she pulled away and let it fall to rest on top of his belly. The air felt so cold, he thought for a moment he was back in Hebra. All urgency was replaced with frustration as his untended need regrouped back inside him. That was close! Link tried to catch his breath, but it was stolen again as her finger pressed into that spot again. How did she even know that was there?

Zelda stared down at him, looking proud of herself. Link just glared back at her.

Suddenly, Zelda’s hand was in front of his mouth. Confused and frustrated, he cocked a brow at her. “Suck,” she commanded, leaving no room for argument. Link wasn’t sure why she’d want him to do that, but he was loath to deny her anything at this point. You want me to cut off my hand? No problem. Please, just give me something!

He pulled the digit into his mouth, the musk and sweat of him on his tongue. The bed shook as Zelda quivered while he worked the finger and allowed her to add another. He tasted her skin, and with nothing else touching him, he was starved for anything Zelda, anywhere! Her soft moan at the feel of his tongue is what kept him from entering the astral plane.

The fingers swiftly withdrew, and Link realized too late that she’d returned to lavish licks onto his member again. He was wound so tight, just bordering on the precipice of overstimulation that had driven Zelda into despair the previous night. That’s when he understood: She’s recreating her own feeling of desperation, just in him.

He can’t tell if that’s fair or cruel because he can’t think anything while she sucked lightly, dipping her tongue into the slit and Link is probably going to die right now.

That’s when he feels her slicked fingers exploring lower, spreading wetness around a place he himself hadn’t ever touched, let alone anyone else!  "Whoa! Zelda-- what." He stuttered, rendered simple by the alien feeling. They'd danced around the topic before, and some distant part of him knew that's what the trial demanded, but he still lagged behind real-time when it came to the fact that any of this was happening at all. Let alone that particular milestone!

At his tension, she stilled, mouth full, and stared into his eyes. Link’s brain was overloaded with information to the point he didn’t know what to make of this. He’d almost forgotten about that part of the “reciprocity” theory.

Gently, she pulled off of him, but her fingers remained still. Zelda didn't break eye-contact as she watched Link's eyes' broadcast: Terror, curiosity, perturbation, and curiosity again. She was watching him, looking to see if he would balk or demand she stop. Waiting for a green light. She offered him a nonthreatening smile, "Major Test of Trust, Link."

That's an understatement.

Link was doing his best to make a decision, which is no small feat when his entire body is shrieking in his ears for release. His pulse was deafening. Her index finger was a telephone wire transmitting her thoughts directly into him. Zelda trailed a circle, so so gently around his rim.

Embarrassment colored his face at the involuntary shiver she wrought from him.

When he didn’t ask her not to, she circled him again and rewarded good behavior with a long stroke up his length. Her fingers increased pressure, soft, insistent, then backed out and repeated. He never could focus on the strange, foreign feeling for long, because Zelda’s lips lowered back onto him, moving just a little quicker. She parried his moan with her own.

Her thumb arched to that spot behind his balls again and pressed. That pressure building in him was back, grilling him alive from the inside out. Link felt completely powerless and despite that, he diligently clung to any foothold of control he could get. It’s like slipping down moss-covered stairs.

Zelda had entered him to the first knuckle before he’d even recognized it. She was playing him like an instrument, which probably makes her a natural virtuoso. She was suspiciously talented, in fact. So much, that a question burned in his mind. “Have you… done this before?” he panted.

She pulled off of him with a lewd pop. A thin web of saliva connected her lips to him like a thread of fate. “Mm?” She had to clear her throat to speak. “No, I haven’t.” She seemed flattered by the sideways compliment. “You saw my notes, remember?”

Link had forgotten the language for a moment and meaning caught up with him later. Right! That book under her bed. That explains some things.

 She stroked him lazily, her finger pressing gently into him in a way that, much to his surprise, wasn’t unpleasant. Even though he had literally masqueraded as the opposite sex, Link felt that this moment was a far greater test of his masculinity. She lightly trailed her free fingers around the rim, almost ticklish, while her thumb continued to apply steady pressure to some unseen spot inside him.

Zelda had really done her research.

Her second knuckle worked back and forth at a steady, easy pace. With this advantage, she could tell exactly when he was approaching the edge, and then would leave his dick completely untouched on his belly. When she deemed him recollected, she’d start up again. Sweat stuck the sheets to every inch of his skin; his hair was matted; frustration clanged angrily in his belly like a wrench in a music box. Is this really what Zelda was experiencing? This is the sort of pain she tried to work herself out of?

He’s strong, but he’s only mortal.

“Zelda…” he whines a keening, wounded sound. Be nice.

The princess pulls her head away, stroking him slowly. Her hand rocked languidly back and forth into him, drawing long shivers all the way down his spine. Grinding, teasing, not nearly fast enough.

“Turnabout is fair play, knight.”

Link tried to narrow his eyes menacingly at her, but she pushed her finger back into him with just that much force, her hand worked just that much faster on his length. Zelda’s academic lust sought after something inside him, searching, turning her finger until—

“Ah!” he cried, pleasure seizing his muscles and lights flashed unseen in the dark room. She seemed to sense that he was close and stilled her motions while he caught his breath. What had she just found?! And why does everything taste like voltfruits? Curious, Zelda gently pushed back into him, finger hitting that spot again. It was like she’d stabbed him with a lighting-blade.

“…Pain?” she asks.

Link’s eyes rolled forward again. In the tiny space between full-body shudders, he managed to grind out, “No.”

So, good, then?  Zelda did it again, this time applying a little more pressure, and felt him tighten in spasms around her finger. She knew that she was driving him all the way to the edge then reeling him back again, over and over. When the knight clenched his teeth and evened out his breathing, she gently took him back into her mouth, just holding him, and tentatively added a second finger. Link shivered, hips wriggling under her like he wanted more of something but couldn’t name what. The slim, elegant fingers withdrew from him all the way, then pressed all the way back in, angled to hit that same spot inside him again. The pitiful sound he made went straight to her ego.

He held steadfast to his control.

The durability of the saliva was not unending. Zelda knew she’d have to do something else to make sure not to hurt him. Gently, so gently, she withdrew and left him feeling empty in her wake. Dizzily, he tried to watch her as she lay prone across the bed to rummage through the dresser drawer. “Wha… Hng!” She returned and gently lent him a few strokes, just to keep him where he was, and snapped the cap of an elixir she’d acquired.

Link barely opened his eyes long enough to see Zelda pouring something onto her fingers. He was about to ask, when those fingers returned to him, working him with the slick fluid gliding her skin against his in a way that had him trembling. “Whoa…” he breathed. Not much longer of this, and maybe he could commune with the Goddesses himself and ask them just exactly what kind of nonsense they were trying to pull with these trials.

He's completely in control.

Zelda had never seen him off-guard. Ever-ready for a fight, always intimidating in his shrewd stare, attentive to the slightest sound, intuitive to even the faintest hint of danger. Right now, Ganon himself could come busting down the door, and Link would sparsely notice. Zelda couldn’t help the pride she felt at reducing him to his helpless state.

She left his oversensitive, throbbing length alone and took the moment of rest to roll her shoulders and stretch her neck. It was like she was settling in for a long night of studying which, strictly speaking, wasn’t not what’s happening here. While she stretched her jaw muscles, her fingers never remained perfectly still, always gliding this way and that, never letting him come all the way back down.

There’s no way this is a fair exchange!

Frustration burned a hole in his stomach. Everything was over-stimulated, and the pain fought for space with the pleasure in his brain. He glowered at her as she knelt before him, watching him writhe in agony at the end of her arm. Zelda just smiled back and curled her fingers, stealing the breath he was going to use to tell her in no unclear terms how unhappy he was with this.

Evil! She wore this superior little grin and watched in victory as yet another bead of liquid pulsed from his head and onto his abdomen.

Link’s hands fisted the sheets.

Zelda’s chipping away at his self-control, piece by piece. She knows what she’s doing to him, and is wielding her power to break him down to the sum of his parts.

She literally has him wrapped around her finger.

Link could take no more.

He sat up on his elbows, stared straight into her eyes, and baked her under his gaze. Far gone was any hint of wanting, now replaced by need and hunger. “Zelda…” he warned, teeth glinting lupine in the darkness, “You’re being exceptionally unkind.”

For a split moment, she thought that he may wheel around to attack her, so intimidating was his unblinking stare. Her surprise wore off the longer she met his gaze.

Their beating hearts synchronized.

This is the point where Link had shown her kindness. Where he nodded and surged forward with an unexpected passion and finesse with all intents of pleasing her. Zelda felt heat roiling inside her at the idea of returning the favor, of giving him what he’d given her. To watch all hint of stoicism fall away.

Would he become more talkative, or would he be reduced to a mess of whimpers? Would he say her name, or curse so nastily that Hylia would revoke her blessing?

His eyes pleaded, just pick one.

Unfortunately for Link, Zelda’s not him. She’s not kind. Her smile cut Cheshire lines around her eyes and she pressed back into him, all the way to her knuckles, and reveled at how the tendons in his neck flared and his head rolled back.

So easy.

It was all too much! He’d told her in no unclear terms that he was at his limit. Wasn’t she supposed to be paying back his kindness? This is anything but kindness. She was so smug in her complete and utter control over him; She lazily trailed her free hand up his ribs and tweaked his nipple. Link felt like he was locked in stasis, getting pummeled over and over again and as soon as time resumed, his bones would fly in all different directions.

Huh. That’s an idea.

“Zelda…” he rumbled.

This is your last warning.

The princess stared down at him, expression cocksure and arrogant. She seemed to believe that she had complete, uninterrupted control over him. To the extent that he had control over himself, she did.

But Link was losing control of himself.

And Zelda’s about to find that out.