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“Link,” she said from her desk.
He looked up at the mention of his name.
Zelda was pouring over a book, heavy round framed glasses resting on her nose.
“May I have you tonight?”
She didn't look up from her tome, flipping a page in the moment of silence that followed her question.
Link had been sitting cross legged in the queen’s windowsill, but he stood and walked to her.
By way of answering, he knelt by her desk, held out one hand and looked at the floor.
Zelda smiled and scoffed quietly, before placing her hand in his.
He brought himself gently up to kiss her middle knuckle, and then returned his gaze to the floor.
A yes.
A very formal yes.
They stilled like that for a moment.
Link was disciplined enough not to stand, but it was supposed to be a joke.
Answering like he’d been asked to go to war was supposed to make her laugh.
Zelda put a hand on his head and then, slowly, almost absentmindedly, she began to pet him.
Link dared not break code, so he stared at the floor and willed himself not to blush.
Zelda’s fingers wiggled into his hair like grass swaying, like the queen’s fingers were controlled by a gentle, patient wind.
“My lovely knight,” she said, nine-tenths to herself, “my lovely knight.”
Link’s blush dropped, his eyes were unfocused.
He was remembering.
Zelda paused carding through his hair, using her other hand to slide off her glasses and rest them on the desk.
She stayed there for a moment and breathed a soft sigh before killing her light and standing.
Link’s eyes snapped to focus again as he was deprived of contact.
Zelda stepped around her champion and crossed the room, bare feet on stone floors, before moving behind a half unfolded changing screen.
Link listened intently to the sounds of Zelda slipping from her nightgown.
Then to the sounds of bare feet on stone tile.
The door creaked slightly open.
“You are relieved. My champion will guard me tonight.”
Zelda crossed the room again, finally to her bed.
“You may stand.”
Link stood and turned to see her.
Beauty, every inch of her perfect.
She stood at the foot of the bed, naked skin caught in the grey moonlight.
Link was frozen in place, admiring.
“Come.”
Link closed his mouth, finding it agape, and obeyed.
He kissed her.
Not on the lips, he insisted they never do such a thing.
He walked to his queen and knelt again before her, raising her foot and kissing slowly up her leg.
Each kiss planted like his formal kiss; like the kisses he peppered onto her hand to receive awards, swear vows and accept orders.
He kissed every inch of her like she was royalty.
Link kissed up her leg to the knee, and then back down.
Zelda leaned back on the bed and stared at the canopy, eyes mostly unfocused.
She was remembering.
Link kissed her ankle softly again before moving his lips away and lowering her foot.
He cradled it in both gloved hands, like it was too valuable to be held in a mere one.
Zelda's eyes focused again as her foot met cold stone.
She realized she was breathing through her mouth.
Link delicately took her other foot from the floor, and again, began to kiss up her leg.
As he did, his normally solemn and disciplined eyes wavered; he stared.
Specifically, at about the fourth kiss up her shin, his eyes slid up to watch her cunt.
He watched her breathe as his lips met skin again and again and was transfixed.
“Link,” she said, breathless and not at all distressed.
Link’s eyes snapped back to task; back to his gentle, formal ministrations.
He kissed slowly up to her knee and at the tip of her kneecap he felt soft hands slide down both sides of his face.
Link turned to look at his Queen.
Her hair spilled down around him.
She cradled his chin and delicately lifted him to stand.
The armor at his knees scraped on the stone floor as she drew him to stand, and she watched his expression of awe grow closer and closer.
She closed her eyes as she pulled him closer, and she kissed-
Link stopped moving.
She could taste his smell, they were so close-
He was resisting her, pulling away just enough to stay in place.
He was defying her.
Zelda’s eyes shot open.
Link’s expression was not disloyal.
She straightened her stance, standing at her full height and pushing the knight slightly away with hands still on his face.
“Link.”
The knight acted of his own accord, placing his gloved hands on hers.
He pulled them from his face and held them together in the small space between their chests.
He cradled her hands gently, like a butterfly.
He kissed the tips of each of her fingers.
Zelda scoffed.
He let go of her hands, his grip shattering like he’d been burned.
"I'll never understand you,"
He smiled, barely sorry.
Zelda stepped away, turning to the side and crossing her arms.
He’d do anything she asked, just not that.
Was it so selfish to want a kiss?
Could she afford to let any order go disobeyed?
But he’d done so much for-
Zelda’s thoughts were stopped in jolt as an ungloved hand trailed gently down her spine.
Link’s fingers slid down the curve of her back and prodded gently at her tailbone before he dragged his fingers back up, meeting his lips at the back of her neck in another gentle, pious kiss.
He withdrew his hand to slide off his other glove and drop both on the floor.
As he did, he kissed carefully down between her shoulder blades.
“Link…” Zelda said, warm, gooey and annoyed.
Link set a hand on either hip and pulled Zelda gently.
The queen obeyed.
Link guided her back to the foot of the bed, and by sliding a hand up her back, asked her to lay down.
The queen obeyed.
But she curled back up, half sitting and resting on her hands.
"Link," she said, "Kiss me."
Zelda watched as Link, body coated in plates of steel and leather shook his head.
Zelda sighed and laid back, and Link began his work.
“Recalcitrant shit…” she mumbled as his mouth found it’s home.
She felt him smile into her cunt.
And then he kissed her.
Gentle, almost worshipful.
The sensation made her toes twitch.
Despite this, or perhaps because of it, he kissed her again.
First at the top and then at the bottom.
He stared at her gently aching pussy and, in the second break of discipline, he licked it.
He painted a thin stripe of spit over her cunt and the queen bucked into his mouth.
“Oh fuck-”
Link pulled back, afraid he’d overstepped.
The queen threw a hand to catch his hair and mashed his face back into her.
He stayed there, still afraid of overstepping.
“Sorry…” she said, out of breath, “You can keep going.”
Link did not move.
“Link.”
He obeyed, and began to worship her anew.
She kept her fingers tangled in his hair, but gently loosened her grip as he kissed again and again.
Her breathing picked up again and her fingers began to play in his hair, swaying one way and then the other.
Link’s discipline began to wane, his kisses became less chaste.
He bit the queen softly and she gasped, tightening her grip.
He kissed her in apology, bringing his tongue to bear.
The queen’s grip loosened and she began to stroke his hair again.
Zelda’s eyes started to lose focus.
She began to remember.
“Link.”
Link was staring at the hair that surrounded her delicious cunt.
It shined beautifully in the moon.
“Do you hate me?”
Link made a move to get air, to explain, but the queen pulled hard on his hair.
“You would never kiss me, not for all of Hyrule.”
She spoke half focused, her grip like iron.
She sometimes forgot how strong she was.
“You must.”
Link feasted on her.
He made to bite her cunt like an apple, baring his teeth just before sinking his lips and tongue into her.
The queen cried out, pleasure and surprise snapping her from her fever.
He prayed and kissed and licked and bit.
The queen's legs coiled around him she threw her arms grasp his head.
He devoured as exaltation, pressing his tongue to praise the deepest parts of her.
She moaned as Link poured his soul into glorifying her sopping cunt.
He tasted and chewed and worshiped until his lungs demanded peace and he ripped himself away to breathe a gasping breath.
The queen panted, speechless.
Link hoped to see understanding in her eyes.
He hoped she’d know what he’d meant.
Zelda, Queen of Hyrule, stared at him with glassy eyes full of want .
No.
Link, Knight of Hyrule, hoisted her legs onto his shoulder plates and began again.
Praising and consuming, savoring and worshiping.
He adored and ate until she came, sputtering and moaning, into his mouth.
She slept that night, restful and appropriate.
He watched her until the sun arrived and the morning guards arose.
He kissed her gently before he left.