EQUUS

Companion piece to Anger Management

Equus: pronounced ek-wis. Latin for 'horse'

Well, here begins the start of the Anger Management Extended Universe. More details on my Tumblr (see my profile). This can be read stand-alone, but is better if you've read the original story (also available on my profile). Also, I've taken a bit of a chance with this piece posting it in its entirety here. Though it contains some minor explicit sexual content, I felt it wasn't anything too major.

Enjoy!

Mid-day was sweltering—hot and humid, the air stagnant with only the barest of breezes. Sweat beaded slowly down Link's temples, and he could feel the linen shirt under his champion's tunic clinging to his chest and back. The Faron woods were notoriously difficult to travel in the summer months. The region received frequent rains year-round as a result of the coastal breezes blowing in small storm systems off the coast. While temperate, if wet, in the spring and fall, in the summertime the sun grew intensely hot, turning the damp forest into a veritable sauna.

He'd grown up exploring and traveling through the southern woods and so was no stranger to the "summer sog" as the locals called it; but the Princess had no such experience, and seemed to be struggling far more than she was letting on.

She rode beside him, her steed matching the slow, weary stride of his own. She was fanning herself in her saddle with a spare notebook, free hand loosely clutching the reins. Her hair hung limply down her back, damp around her neck and scalp where the strands clung to the sweat gathering there. He subtly glanced sideways at her, noticing that her eyes were half-lidded from the heat, her face sporting a rosy flush as a bead of sweat rolled slowly down her temple. He abruptly returned his eyes to the road, heart skipping a beat as he desperately attempted to prevent the image of her face from transposing itself onto a slender nude form slowly riding his…

He clenched his reins tightly in his hands until he could feel the leather rubbing painfully against his joints. He'd been struggling far too much with such mental images lately.

"I can see now why my father always refuses to travel through the Faron Woods this time of year. If I'd realized how unbearable the conditions would be, I may have heeded your warning."

He kept his eyes forward as he nodded, unsure he'd be able to maintain his mask of composure—or his focus—if he took in the sight of her again. The fantasy image in his mind was still too fresh.

"If you've never been through the woods during its humid season, It can be difficult to imagine, regardless of the description provided," he offered, rolling a shoulder uncomfortably as a bead of sweat trailed down his back. She hummed thoughtfully beside him, but otherwise remained silent.

The chirping and singing of the birds was the only other sound to fill the quiet woods. The usual rustle of leaves and creak of branches from an approaching storm was absent, the still air almost unnerving. Even the wildlife seemed to be lethargic in the hot stillness, hiding in the shade and under the rocks. But to Link, it was a strange sort of comfort. The heat and humidity may be uncomfortable to ride through, but it was familiar and called back memories of childhood adventures.

He let the silence stretch, enjoying the familiar scenery and the comfortable companionship between them—a happy, recent development, and one he was exceedingly grateful for.

Though he had, over time, come to understand her resentment towards him, an understanding deeply aided by Urbosa's insights atop Vah Nabooris, he still hadn't known what to do about it when faced with that resentment. He'd liked her as soon as he'd met her after drawing the sword. She was intelligent, curious, compassionate, and determined in her duty; and even if no one else seemed to notice the vivacity of her personality—she did try awfully hard to across as the other nobles did, regal yet disaffected—she just couldn't hide all that was uniquely her, at least not from him.

He'd been immediately drawn to her, hopeful that his destiny might include an opportunity for friendship with this fascinating girl, and the remarkable champions she had gathered to her side; and even if friendship proved too much to ask for—she was royalty after all, at least friendly allies in the fight against Ganon. So when she gazed upon him in that first meeting with poorly-veiled disdain, when she proved cold and short with him in the first months of his appointment, when she yelled at him—her, the polite, famously level-headed princess—he'd been at an absolute loss.

And then, after the incident with the Yiga, everything changed. He rather wished it hadn't taken such a close call to break down whatever wall she had placed between them, but he couldn't deny his relief when her coldness melted away, transforming into tentative kindness—then open friendliness. Recently, she had even begun to confide in him some of her burdens and worries; and likewise, he had as well. It had been a breath of fresh air after the confusion and stress and frustration of his first few months as her knight.

There was only one problem.

Now, as he got to know her better, as she shared all that vivacity and all those things that were so uniquely her—he was beginning to feel perhaps a bit more strongly for her than he knew was appropriate. And unfortunately, as her sworn knight and protector—bound to her constant company and forever below her social class—there wasn't much he could do to deal with that except bury those feelings as deep as they would go.

Much like he was doing right now.

"Is it like this all summer?"

Zelda's curious voice interrupted his thoughts, and he glanced at her out of the corner of his eye. She was still fanning herself with her notebook, but she had turned to him with a curious tilt of her head.

"All summer," he confirmed.

"So how do—"

She stopped mid-sentence, her eyes fluttering shut and her notebook momentarily stilling. Link eyed her curiously, waiting for her to finish her sentence, but it was several moments before she did so. She opened her eyes and shook her head, clearing her throat as she spoke.

"So, how do the locals get by? Does one simply, I don't know… adjust? Didn't you once say you—"

She stopped suddenly again, this time clenching her eyes shut, her free hand tightening on the saddle horn. Link eyed her with confusion, waiting for her to finish her question. The moments dragged on and she didn't budge from where she clenched the saddle. Finally, he prompted her. "Didn't I say…?"

Her eyes popped open and she let out a breathy laugh, lifting her hand to resume fanning herself, now with increased speed.

"Oh, yes, sorry, I… got distracted." She cleared her throat again and straightened her posture. "Didn't you say you—you, ah, grew up in—in the south?"

Link stared at her, puzzling over her sudden strange behavior. She was staring resolutely forward and worrying her bottom lip, her body carrying a tension that hadn't been there only a few minutes prior. For a moment he thought about questioning her—something seemed distinctly amiss, but he quickly decided against it. She seemed intent on carrying on the conversation, and surely she'd mention if something was wrong.

"Yes…" he began slowly, "I grew up in Deya Village."

Zelda simply nodded tightly in response. "I see."

She didn't question further. Link returned his attention to the road, but continued to glance at her out of the corner of his eye. She seemed to have lost her train of thought entirely. What exactly had she wanted to know about the south? She just… stopped, mid-inquiry. It was… extremely unlike her. But… perhaps her mind was simply preoccupied with other thoughts?

They continued on in silence, and every few minutes Link would glance at her out of the corner of his eyes. She was tense, her body tight and quivering and her breathing faintly labored. If he didn't know better he would almost say she was… he shook his head. No, that was ridiculous.

When next he glanced at her out of the corner of his eye her face was obscured by her hair. His brow furrowed. That was strange… had she moved it? There was no wind, it couldn't have simply been blown about. Had she noticed his furtive glances? Did she not want him to look at her? But why all of a sudden would she move her hair to cover her—

"Ooooh!"

Her back arched and her hips ground subtly into her saddle, and in that brief moment a soft breeze blew through the trees, blowing her hair back just enough for him to catch a glimpse of her face—

And he froze.

Her lips were parted, her face more flushed than it had been only moments ago, her brow furrowed and her eyes shut tight; and she had just let out an unmistakable moan.

No.

No, it couldn't—she didn't just…

Did she?

Though his logical mind struggled to comprehend the evidence clearly presented before him, deep down, he knew—he KNEW. He'd heard that kind of moan before, had seen that very body language speak beneath his hands.

The Princess had just orgasmed on her horse—right in front of him.

His heart was suddenly beating very hard against his rib cage, and he felt heat rise to his face. He dared a quiet question as her hair fell back into place, obscuring her face once more.

"Are… you alright, Princess?"

He heard her let out a heavy breath, saw her shoulders relax and her hands loosen on the reins before she pulled her hair slowly back over her shoulder.

"Yes, I'm—yes, just feeling a little overwhelmed by the heat and the—the humidity. I'll be fine."

She smiled faintly, refusing to meet his gaze. That was all the confirmation he needed.

-:-:-:-:-

They arrived at the lakeside stable shortly before sunset. They unloaded their horses silently, handing them off to the stable hand before heading inside. As usual they were greeted with excessive enthusiasm by the stable master and given the best beds on offer. But the stable accommodations were not built with privacy in mind; and Link found himself in desperate need of privacy.

By midnight the rest of the stable's guests were sound asleep in their beds. Even the stable hands had retired for the night; but not Link. The memory of her unexpected orgasm was haunting him. He couldn't get the image out of his head, couldn't stop hearing her soft moan ringing in his ears like canon fire.

He lay in quiet agitation, tossing and turning in his bed—had been since he laid down in it hours prior. He knew why he couldn't sleep, and knew what would help him to do so, what had always helped him to do so. He could easily sneak off for a few minutes and see to the persistent erection bulging in his trousers. No one would notice.

But he just couldn't—not while the day's events were playing on repeat in his head. Touching himself and thoughts of her did not go together—it was a personal rule, and one he had vowed never to break. He couldn't have her, and so would only be tormented if he allowed himself to get too used to the idea. And besides, she was the PRINCESS. The blood of a GODDESS ran in her veins; it was just… wrong.

But… maybe that was part of why he couldn't shake the desire to break that personal rule, just this once. He always did have a thing for that which he couldn't have.

He rolled over fitfully, landing on his stomach and feeling his erection press painfully against the mattress, throbbing in time with his heartbeat. He sighed. It was no use. He couldn't spend all night like this.

Quietly, he slipped out of bed, sneaking out the doorway and around the corner. Behind the stable were boxes of supplies, neatly stacked near the old ruins. With careful footfalls he padded around behind them, leaning heavily against the wood out of view of any late-night wanderers and slumping to the ground.

With as much haste as he could manage while remaining silent, he pulled his pants down and took hold of his hardened length before he could second-guess his decision, gripping gently as he began to stroke. The memory began to replay itself in his mind almost instantly of its own accord.

She was seated atop her horse, words stolen from her as she shut her eyes against the pleasure. Her cheeks were flushed, her brow furrowed, a bead of sweat trickling down her temple. Her hair fell suddenly in front of her face, obscuring her from view as her back arched into the saddle and her hands tightened on the saddle horn. The wind blew her hair back just briefly and he could see her parted lips, her pink cheeks, could hear her gasping moan echoing in his mind as her hips bucked ever so subtly against the rocking of her saddle. He stroked faster.

Then, the image changed.

He was lying on the grass, her lissome, nude figure lowering onto his cock. He glanced up to see her flushed face gazing down at him with half-lidded eyes, that same sudden gasp escaping her parted pink lips as she took the entirety of his length inside her. Her hands were clenched on his chest as they'd been on her reins, that same tension rippling throughout her body as she clenched around him…

"Ungh!"

He came hard, hand tightening around his cock as he gave it a couple final strokes, directing it away from his torso and sprinkling the grass with dewy white droplets. He was panting, taken aback by the intensity and suddenness of his orgasm. For several moments he simply stared blankly at the crumbling low wall that was the only remnant of a once-proud structure, his mind slowly receding from the almost too-real mental image that had been his impetus to orgasm.

As his heart rate reached its baseline state, he tucked his manhood back into his pants and sighed, stretching his legs out on the grass and turning his head up towards the moon. Shame niggled at his conscience, but he couldn't bring himself to regret it. He was only human, for the Goddess' sake, with only so much restraint. But, Farore above, it would be weeks before he could look at the Princess with a straight face.

After several moments of silent contemplation, he finally rose from the grass and began making his way back inside the stable. With careful, quiet footsteps he returned to his bed, burrowing under his sheets. He could feel the warm tendrils of sleep finally gripping his limbs, threatening to pull him under the tides of dreamland. At least he would get a good night's rest. After today, it would be a long, long ride into Lurelin—and an even longer journey back to the castle.

He let out a breath as he rolled over. Gods give him strength.

A/N: And there it is! This was a fun little project to celebrate the end of tax season. I'll begin working on the next installment in the series some time later this month or early next. Probably early next. If you haven't read the original, go, go! It's on my profile, or you can read the full uncensored version on my Tumblr and/or AO3 (details in my profile). Hope you enjoyed! As usual, let me know what you thought in the reviews! Until next time.