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As the Princess of Hyrule, Zelda had been to her fair share of coronations, and to even more weddings. They were dull affairs both, long, filled with repetitive speeches and traditions so old that no one living could recall where they came from.
And today she had to sit through three of them.
Well, she supposed it was better when it was your own, though she was questioning even that notion as she listened to some priest drone on about the goddesses, and Hyrule, and the purpose of a queen – as though Zelda had not been queen in all but name for years already.
Still, despite her current boredom, as she chanced a glance at her – also bored, by the looks of his expression – soon-to-be-husband, she could not deny that she was happy.
Happy, to have a husband. What a thought.
***
Zelda knew she would not remember the speeches (even the ones she had given), or the decorations (most of which had been chosen for her), or the various performers (though they were very talented).
What she would remember from her coronation and wedding day was this:
The burgeoning pride in her heart as she knelt before her people, and rose as the Queen of Hyrule. (Even if she had been acting as queen for some time now, she could not deny the thrill in her at finally – finally – hearing it said aloud.)
The striking sight of Ganondorf in his wedding attire, his hair done more elaborately than she’d ever seen it, gold painted around his eyes and on his nails. (“I’ve never known a man to paint his face before,” she’d said to him once, to which he had scoffed and replied, “Hylian men are completely disinterested in beauty; it is disgraceful.” Zelda had rarely thought a man beautiful before, but looking at him now – yes, it was a fitting word.)
The brief kiss they shared just as they were married. (Not for the kiss itself – there had been many better, away from the gaze of so many observers – but for what it represented. That he was hers; her husband; her partner; and soon, her king, ruling by her side.)
Ganondorf’s first address to the public as the King of Hyrule. (The words themselves she had heard already; indeed, she had helped him write them. But she could not tear her eyes from his lips as he spoke, thinking already of what was to come that night. She imagined the feeling of those lips on hers, a sensation she knew very well, and then how they might feel in new places: on her breasts, or trailing down her midriff, or perhaps even between her thighs.
“How was that?” Ganondorf muttered to her when he’d finished his speech and came to sit at her side as yet another performance began. “Very good,” said Zelda, blushing.)
After the long ceremony had ended, they were still not released, having to endure congratulations after congratulations from the attendees, many of whom kings or queens from other countries who Zelda could scarcely recall meeting. Her face was beginning to tire from the polite smile plastered there as she thanked them.
A few attendees, however, did receive a true smile.
Telma pulled her into a tight hug, then shook Ganondorf’s hand heartily. “I’d offer you free drinks the next time you drop by, Your Majesties,” she said with a wink. “But I think you can afford them.”
Prince Ralis gave her a shy grin, cheeks flushed purple as he gave a slight nod. “Congratulations to you both. I hope you come visit the Domain soon.” He glanced at Ganondorf nervously as he said it, and Zelda imagined he was remembering the last time she and Ganondorf had visited Zora’s Domain.
When Link approached, he gave her a bow. “Congratulations, my queen,” he said, then straightened. “Ganondorf.”
Ganondorf’s lips curled into a smirk. “Kneel before your king, hero.”
Link rolled his eyes before walking away; Ganondorf frowned.
“Such disrespect,” he muttered to Zelda. “I should have him flogged.”
“You will do no such thing,” Zelda replied sternly.
Ganondorf shook his head. “We should not have invited him.”
Zelda laughed, but was unable to reply as another guest came forward to greet them.
***
Following the ceremony, there was a feast, and dancing, and by the time she and Ganondorf returned to their new chambers – it would take a while to get used to her new room; she had been in the old for so many years – it was already well into the night.
Ganondorf let out a sigh as he shut the door behind him. “I thought it would never end,” he groaned.
Zelda laughed softly. “Surely it was worth it,” she said. “Now you are a king again.”
His eyes brightened immediately, gleaming with satisfaction. “I am king.”
“Not many people can say they’ve had two coronations,” she continued. “Which one did you prefer?”
He brought a hand to his chin, thinking. “The Gerudo ceremony was certainly more interesting.”
“Is that so?”
“Koume and Kotake never could resist a show,” he said, then scowled as he often did when he was reminded of his mothers. Zelda reached for him, pulling him down to her – she did not want to think about the Twinrova on her wedding night.
“Well, now it is all over,” she murmured, raising a hand to his cheek. “And now you are my husband.”
A small smile came to his lips. “Indeed,” he said quietly, then leaned in to kiss her. She quickly twined her arms around his neck, and his came around her waist. She laughed as he straightened, lifting her feet from the ground, though this was quickly silenced by another kiss. With one hand she pulled at his hair, beginning to remove all the pins keeping it in place.
Ganondorf chuckled into the kiss. “That took me ages to do,” he said, pulling back slightly. “And you’re removing it already?”
“I like your hair down,” she said, flushing. “That is – you styled it beautifully, but…”
“Well then,” he said, amber eyes bright with mirth. “Carry on, wife.”
So Zelda did. Ganondorf kissed her again as she did so, then kissed her cheek, her forehead, the tip of her nose and the point of her ear. Then he bent down to kiss her neck, and she felt a shock of heat through her core which only grew as he bit down softly, nipping at her skin.
“Ah, perhaps –” She gasped as he nipped at her again.
He glanced up at her, smirking slightly. “Perhaps?”
She swallowed. “Perhaps… it is time to move this to the bed.”
He laughed quietly, a low sound that she seemed to feel throughout her entire body. “Mmm, I think that can be arranged,” he said, then swung an arm under her knees so as to carry her more comfortably.
The bed had been replaced since the last time she had been in this room, Zelda noted. The new one was larger, longer – fit for a man as tall as Ganondorf was. She opened her mouth to remark on this, but any thoughts about the bed were erased from her mind as she was placed on it, and his lips were on her once again.
She lay on her back as he leaned over her, his hair falling around her. The sight of him, the fire of his hair contrasted against the darkness of his skin and the gold still lining his eyes made her very glad that she had let it down. He kissed her until she was gasping for breath, then kissed her chin, her neck again (was he leaving marks there when he nipped at her? A part of her hoped so), then brushed a hand against the neckline of her dress. He met her eyes in question.
Zelda nodded shortly.
She rose to make it easier, and he fumbled with the back of her dress, undoing knots and laces, and soon – or perhaps not soon enough – she was bare before him for the first time. Her heart thumped in her chest.
She had never been one to fret over her body. People called her beautiful (though people seemed to call all royalty beautiful), and she supposed it was true, but it was not beauty that made one successful at running a kingdom. Now though, as she saw him take her in, she found herself nervous.
Did he prefer the musculature typical of a Gerudo woman? She was not in poor shape, but she was no warrior. Would he think her breasts too small? Not small enough? Did he –
“Zelda,” Ganondorf murmured, and she could only describe the look in his eyes as reverent. “My lovely Zelda…” He reached for her again, tugging her into his arms. “Beautiful, beautiful Zelda.” He nuzzled his nose against the top of her head, and she forgot all concerns about her appearance as he began to trail a hand down her side. She inhaled sharply as his hand came up to cup her breast, his thumb brushing against her nipple.
“Nervous?”
“No,” Zelda denied. This may have been a bit of lie; she was very aware of the fact that she had never done this before, and he had. (“Perhaps not as much as you might think,” he’d told her once, when she had worked up the nerve to ask. “I was very preoccupied with my plotting to take Hyrule, after all.”)
Still, despite her nerves, she wanted this – wanted him, so she rose to kiss him. His hands roamed over her body as they kissed, and the more he touched her, the more she felt as though he was leaving trails of heat over her skin with his fingers. Then he lay her back down on her back, and replaced his hands with his mouth and tongue, and Zelda burned.
It was better than what she had imagined, his lips on her breast, and she let out a moan as he took her nipple into his mouth. That was something she had not considered – the noises. Her heavy breathing, the soft cry from her when he gave her breast a little bite before releasing it and moving to the other, the giggles when his beard tickled against her skin.
“Such sweet sounds you make,” he purred, trailing his hand down her belly, then lower. She reached out to catch it.
“Wait,” she said.
He frowned, concerned.
“You’re still wearing too many clothes,” she clarified. “I want… to touch you.”
Ganondorf stared at her a moment, then laughed softly. “Whatever my queen desires,” he said, then shrugged off his shirt. He threw it across the room, and Zelda quickly found herself looking at his bare chest.
This was not a new sight to her, but she was still impressed every time she saw it. Such strength, evidenced in the hard lines of his body, and the countless scars showcased a man who had been through many trials. Yes, he was a very welcome sight, and she resolved to show him just how much she enjoyed it.
“Better now?” Ganondorf said, lips curling into a smirk.
Zelda’s face warmed, but she would not allow herself to feel embarrassed for staring at him. “Yes,” she said simply, then before she could second guess herself, added, “Lie down.”
He raised an eyebrow, but obeyed, settling onto his back as she had been only moments before. She leaned over him, hovering her hand over his chest, unsure where to start.
“Here I am,” he said, small grin on his face as he looked up at her. “Yours to touch.”
She swallowed, then put a hand to a long thin scar that ran from his shoulder onto his chest, tracing it with her finger, and pressed her lips there. She carried on like this, touching each scar with her fingers, then her mouth, as though she could kiss away all the pain that he had faced. She paid particular attention to the scar over his heart – the place that she had pierced him with a light arrow to drive the Demon King from his body.
“I hope you aren’t feeling guilty for that,” he murmured.
She shook her head. “It was necessary,” she said, then kissed the scar again. She rested her hand there, feeling the reassuring beat of his heart below her palm. “But for a moment… I’d thought you were dead.” She blinked, tears welling in her eyes. “I thought I had killed you.”
Ganondorf reached for her hand, entwining his fingers in hers over his heart. “It would take a lot more than that to kill me.” He squeezed her hand. “I intend on living a long life with you, Zelda.”
She smiled, even as a tear slipped from her eyes, and turned her attention to lower on his body – to his execution scar, still shining with golden light even hundreds of years after he had received the wound. She gently touched her free hand to him, and he inhaled heavily.
“Does it hurt still?” she asked.
He did not answer for a moment. “Yes,” he said finally. “Less than before… It comes and goes.”
She pressed a kiss to his skin next to the glowing scar, then to the scar itself. “I wish that I could heal it for you…” She kissed his skin again. “I hate the thought of you hurting.”
But she knew there was no healing a wound like that, especially not when it had been damaged again by the Master Sword itself. Ganondorf sat up, removing her hand from him and pulling her close. He kissed her forehead.
“Even if you could heal it I would not want you do,” he said. “I want the reminder.”
“Reminder of what?”
His eyes darkened. “That the ones who did this are all dead, and I am still here.”
Zelda shivered, and Ganondorf’s lips curled into a smug smile.
“And,” he added, “that their kingdom, and their princess are now mine.”
“Not a princess anymore,” Zelda said.
Ganondorf chuckled. “Of course not, my queen,” he corrected, and gave her another kiss.
“I’m sorry,” Zelda said once he pulled away. “I’ve rather ruined the mood, haven’t I?”
“Nonsense,” he said, and kissed her again, more passionately. “Besides, it will be easy enough to get back.”
He wrapped her up in his arms and in his kisses, and Zelda learned very quickly how nice it was to kiss him like this, with her body and skin on his. His hands wandered as they kissed, seeming to touch every part of her. Hers wandered too, tracing shapes onto his back, then his chest. She took note of his slight gasp when her hand brushed against one of his nipples, of how he would whisper her name before pressing his mouth to her skin, of how his eyes would darken with desire when she said his, and even more when she called him her king.
Then, as she explored the hard planes of his abdomen, tracing every scar that she could see and feel, she came to the top of his pants; the final bit of fabric separating them. She hesitated just a moment before saying, “Take them off.” She paused. “Please.”
“Very well,” said Ganondorf, and soon he too was entirely unclothed. Zelda stared at him, nervousness and excitement warring within her stomach. Will it hurt?
“Like what you see?” Ganondorf asked, his tone teasing, though she thought she could see a flicker of concern in his amber eyes.
“Yes,” Zelda said. “You are very…” She coughed. “Proportional.”
“Proportional,” he repeated.
She flushed. Why did I say that?
“Er, that is…”
“That is…?” He began to smile; the smugness emanated from him.
“You know what I mean.”
He chuckled, trailing a finger down her arm. “Gratifying to hear that my wife thinks that my cock is –”
Zelda, desperate to wipe the smirk from his face, reached for him, and he promptly shut up.
“Careful,” she warned, curling her fingers around him. He twitched against her hand. Interesting, she thought.
She gripped him, moving her hand up the length of him – the length of his cock; she refused to be a blushing maid who could not say the word even in her own mind – slowly at first, and then faster at his prompting.
Words poured from him as she touched him, instructions and other things. “Yes, ah – Right there – Like that – Zelda – ah – Keep going – Zelda…”
He moaned her name, and Zelda glanced to his face – his eyes were closed, head tilted back in pleasure. The sight of it sent another wave of heat through her core, but even more, she felt powerful. She had made him like this, reduced him to babbling nonsense, and it thrilled her even more that he was allowing her to witness it.
If this was how he became with his cock in her hands, she wondered the sounds and faces she might pull from him were she to take it in her mouth.
She had nearly decided to try it when he reached for her hand, stilling her.
“Enough,” he rasped. “When I finish, I want to be inside you.”
Before she could answer, he pulled her into his arms to kiss her soundly. She buried her hands into his hair, returning the kiss. “Yes,” she whispered against his lips. “I want you, Ganondorf.”
He made a noise in his throat almost like a growl, and pushed her back down into the bed, not removing his mouth from hers. With one hand he propped himself up above her, the other began once again to trail down her body. It stilled when he reached her hip.
“May I?” he murmured.
Zelda nodded, and spread her thighs slightly, allowing him access as he finally reached between her legs. He ran a finger slowly along the slickness that he found there, and Zelda could not stop the slight whine that escaped her. Ganondorf chuckled against her skin, then began to increase the speed of his movement.
“My beautiful, beautiful queen,” he purred. “Already ready for me.” His thumb, stroking her, rose to rub her clit, and Zelda whined again. His hands were so different from hers, larger and rougher, and nothing she had imagined had prepared her for them on her body, and even less for the feeling of him pressing a finger within her. Where she not already so lost in the pleasure, she might have felt self-conscious of the sounds coming from her, or of the way her hips bucked involuntarily, as though her body itself wanted to be as close to him as possible.
When she thought she might combust from the growing pleasure, he removed his fingers from her. Zelda nearly complained at the emptiness, but he crawled back over her, lining up their hips. She felt the head of his cock come to rest at her entrance.
“Yes?”
“Please,” she moaned.
There was pain as he entered her; he was not a small man by any means, and that extended to all parts of him. But he went slowly, and pressed kisses to her forehead, and whispered reassurances in her ears, and by the time he was fully within her, she felt as though she was already acclimating to him. Experimentally she moved her hips against him; he groaned and reached between them to her clit, and Zelda felt as though nothing in the world existed anymore, nothing but her body and Ganondorf’s and the connection between them.
She clutched at him, pressing kisses to his chest and his neck because she could not reach his lips. Words spilled from his mouth incessantly: Zelda and Princess and wife and other things that she could not make out; she thought many of them were in Gerudo. His movements sped up, becoming frantic. Zelda felt the pleasure grow within her, and buried her face in his chest as it came to a peak. Not long after, he followed, spilling into her with a groan.
They stayed there a moment, unmoving, until Ganondorf turned to lay on his side, bringing her with him. She moved up so her head was level with his on the pillow, and gazed into his eyes. A crooked smile came to his lips as he watched her.
“Good?” he asked.
She nodded, then inched forward until her nose was nearly touching his. His arm curled around her.
“Very good,” she said, and something in his eyes softened. Relief, she thought. Perhaps Ganondorf had also been nervous about this night. She raised her hand to cup his cheek.
“I love you,” she whispered, suddenly feeling an intense need to say it. “And I am so happy that you are my husband.”
He exhaled, and when he spoke, his voice was thick with emotion. “And… I love you. My brilliant Zelda. Thank you…” He shook his head as though he wanted to say more, then seemed to think better of it and drew her in for a kiss instead.
Zelda did not mind. She could feel everything that he’d wanted to express in his kiss.
***
When Zelda woke, she was enveloped in warmth, an arm slung around her and her face resting against a male chest. This was not entirely new to her. What was new was the fact that she was unclothed, and it was that which made her remember.
Husband, she thought warmly, pressing herself closer against him. She could tell by his breathing that he was asleep still, and shifted herself up to see his face.
He appeared younger in sleep, she thought as she stroked his cheek. Ganondorf often seemed ageless to her, an immortal entity from a children’s fairy tale. In times like this she found it easier to remember that physically, at least, he was not that much older than she was. She tried to imagine herself at her current age being strung up for execution, then banished from the realm entirely. The thought made an intense protectiveness surge up within her.
“My dear Ganondorf,” she murmured, brushing a strand of hair from his face, “I promise that I will keep you safe.” She leaned down to kiss his cheek, and his eyelids fluttered open. He blinked at her sleepily for a moment. His eyes slid down her body – she noted how they lingered on her bare breasts – and a small smile grew on his face.
“Good morning, wife,” he said.
“Husband,” she replied, leaning down to kiss him. He sighed in contentment.
“So,” he said once she had released him, “What does one do on their first day as King and Queen of Hyrule?”
“Well,” Zelda said, trailing a finger over his chest, “Soon, we will begin receiving invitations from all over Hyrule inviting us to visit – I believe Prince Ralis has already extended one on behalf of the Zora. We will need to begin planning a tour; that will occupy much of our time in the coming days.”
Ganondorf’s mouth twisted with distaste. Zelda giggled and briefly kissed him again before he could start to voice whatever complaints she assumed were coming.
“However,” she continued, “We do not need to start today – today is for us. I was thinking we could go for a ride this afternoon, just the two of us. And Link told me he was going to Telma’s this evening to meet with everyone. Perhaps we could join him.”
“Hmph,” grunted Ganondorf, but he did not disagree. “And this morning?”
Zelda leaned in towards him until her lips were nearly touching his. “I did not make plans for this morning,” she said. “Because I did not intend on letting you leave this bed for some time.”
Ganondorf stared at her, his mouth open slightly. Then his lips curled into a very satisfied smile.
“You truly are as wise as they say, my queen,” he replied, then closed the distance between them.