a/n: Wow, I haven't written anything for The Legend of Zelda, have I?
How fitting it should be that the time she approaches him is early morn, when the sun has not yet risen past the trees, painting the land in a golden hue.
She melds easily into the span between stretching shade and light as though she is melting from shadow to shadow, and observes the Hero's quiet consideration of the Hylian bass swimming in the nearby spring.
There is a sadness in his bright blue eyes long before she approaches. Yet there is joy, as well.
"Link…"
She is unsure how to begin. He has hardly said a word to her or anyone else after their defeat of Ganondorf, choosing instead to throw himself into menial labors the moment he was able to stand, all the while remaining steadfast by the side of Princess Zelda, his presence unaddressed but undeniably earned. Midna had watched from afar.
Link has been recently coaxed into taking some time off by Zelda and her consorts. He did not rest willingly at first, as though filled with a strange and desperate energy that came from an uncertainness as to what he should do with himself. But now, a week later, he seems content to take to the fields or the roads upon Epona's back.
Neither Midna nor Link have given themselves much of a chance for reciprocation until this moment. They have certainly grown to know one another through their journey, but Link has only known the imp. Yet he does not regard her new form as a stranger.
Perhaps they would simply remain incompatible, if she were to be stunted and cursed. But it hurts to think like that. She must know.
"You aren't just interested because I'm…like this, are you?" she asks.
Link looks surprised. Shakes his head, smiling faintly. When she looks at the light in his eyes she understands: It wouldn't have been right.
She purses her lips. "Are you sure about this?"
Link's expression is solemn.
"You have plenty of others, don't you? What about that one girl who lost her memory? She turned out to be pretty useful. I thought you were close to her."
Link shakes his head and Midna understands: It's been too long a separation.
"Okay," she says. "I just don't want to dash your hopes or anything." Midna is surprised by the strained quality of her own voice. She clears her throat. "Well, as long as you don't start moping over me or anything…the people of Hyrule will be a lot better off if you're fighting fit, you know?"
Link grins at this, and Midna feels much better, if only for a moment. Then the tightness returns in her chest and her breath comes uneven. As if sensing this, Link frowns, and rises on his toes. Midna is unsure what he's trying to do until he grunts in frustration, lowering down, reaching for her face. Midna catches on, leaning down slightly in turn. He kisses her.
When they draw apart he looks up at her in awe, and Midna reflects that it is probably easy for the people of Hyrule to forget their savior is still a boy—a warrior, of course, possessed of good constitution and a strength of spirit that sometimes lends itself to pigheadedness—but a boy, nonetheless. She kisses him this time, and he runs a hand up her side to her shoulder, still on his toes. Midna decides to take things a little further and kiss him, open-mouthed. Link startles, but quickly welcomes the gesture, with a hand in her hair and his fingers gently catching on beads and adornments.
They do little but kiss for a time. There is a gentle pressure along her midriff, like a nudge; Midna is initially startled, then understands. "I guess you're not as naïve as you look," she remarks at last, delighted to discover that Link looks a little flustered, perhaps annoyed, but also somewhat pleased by her attention. She leans in. "Do you want to touch me?"
Link raises his eyebrows, still pink-cheeked, but clearly considering her offer for what it is.
"You were the one who said you didn't want anyone else," Midna goes on. "Unless I'm wrong?"
Link goes steely-eyed, kissing her naked clavicle to demonstrate his conviction. Midna grins an impish grin that seems strangely fitting upon her regal features. She removes both robes and hood with a sharp snap of her fingers and a cloud of dissolving particles. "I can get yours, too," she murmurs. Link startles when his boots, chain mail and tunic all disappear in a flash of the same blue-and-black particles, looking up at her with an expression that's half-accusing and half-amazed. "I've teleported things before that were much more impressive than that," Midna says, amused. "I just thought you wouldn't want to get your clothes wet."
Link huffs in defeat, shaking his head. Midna hums, gazing down at him, and steps back so he may take her in as well. This, he does in silence. His eyes are hazy, his hands rise to frame her hips, unsure. Her body must seem strange to him, blue and gray where he is pale. She is at least a head taller than he, but willowy, graced with intricate, swirling patterns where he bears scars from countless battles.
She feels one hand slip up her thigh and gasps. Link seems curious when he pulls his hand back and finds it wet. He gazes steadily up at her and brings that hand back, testing her reaction. Midna simply relaxes under his ministrations for a while.
"Link?" she murmurs.
In one hand he secures her delicate wrist, guiding it downwards, eyes on her. This intrigues her. She discovers that he is warm. Sensitive, too. Link gasps softly in response to her touch, embracing her around the waist.
"Is this really what you want?" Midna asks, unsure if she is really addressing him.
Link huffs, now grappling with her thighs. She cups his chin so she may appreciate the look on his face as she guides them together, and Link groans at the contact, eyes wrenched shut, burrowing his face into her clavicle.
She grins, breathless. "Okay."