Warning! Contains mild violence and mature content (MxM). Be warned.

-Interlude-

The sky is the brightest hue of blue he'd ever seen, and the smell of grass is thick in the air. The heat is radiating off of the red mud and white marble buildings, but he is used to worse heat. After all Sheik had lived in Kakariko Province his whole life. His parent's house was in the middle of the busy city of Kakariko, the capitol of the Province, and Sheik had that particularly nagging feeling that something was bound to happen that day, whether he liked it or not.

His Knife training had gone better than he had expected, as it was the first time his brother wouldn't be there to train with him. He was not a child anymore, his ceremony of coming of age proved that much, even though it was two years ago; he was now fifteen and the bloody tear was decorating the lid of his right eye, the tear reaching the middle of his cheek. His mentor, Impa, said he might be able to move to train with needles and whips in a few months. It was a great honor, or so his father said. Not many children his age got to train with elite weapons. He was not given his traditional 'Jibal' yet- the red ceremonial cowl and turban that indicating he was accepted by the warrior's clan, but Sheik was a patient boy.

He went through a couple of breathing exercises, and stretches so his muscles won't get cold and stiff as his body started to relax bit by bit. He walked out of the large training fields and went into the

bustling streets of the city. He wanted to go to the market and buy himself dried leather fruit, but his allowance was taken by his father as a punishment of harassing his sister. She deserved it after she put a bloody frog in his bed!

So now he was currently sitting in his mother's herb garden, hiding beneath the mint bushes. He knew his mother might be upset he had sat on the basil shrub, but he could shrug it off as training. He doubted his little sister would be able to see him, hiding and camouflaged as he was. She was two years younger than him and she lacked the eye of truth that his mother excelled in, of seeing beneath trickery and seeing through the most interact spells, like the one he was hiding under at the moment.

Sheik had the affinity, but learning magic was a ridiculous thought! Had Impa not persuaded him that the best warriors had at least a couple of spells in their arsenal, Sheik would have refused outright. It was such a feminine thing to learn, the next thing they'd do would be to make him learn how to read! It was a preposterous thought, and he felt his cheeks heating with embarrassment as he lay behind a spell he himself had conjured.

It was simple, women and girls are taught in the arts of magic, reading and writing, and the men are taught to be warriors, unless of course you were a low born. Low born were not taught the high arts. They had other duties in the Sheikah culture.

Sheik felt himself slipping into a light sleep, and felt no urge to refrain himself from getting some proper rest, so he pulled himself into a tight ball, strengthened the spell and went to sleep.

As he slept in the garden, unaware of what was going on around him a courier came with a letter and at that moment something bigger had started to roll, with the shrill cry of a baby somewhere so far away.

-Chapter one-

Two years and Six months have passed since that sunny day under the mint buses, and Sheik had learned to miss those days dearly. In the time that passed, his training had taken a turn. No longer was he forgiven for mistakes, and no longer could he sneak away to slack off for a bit. Childhood was over, and reality came upon him like a hammer hitting hot steel. His mentor, Impa, had taken him as her only student for that period of time, and trained him without stop.

He no longer looked like the grass sprout he was two years ago, all long limbs and no proportions. His skin was darker now, as he was trained from the first rays of the sun until the sun set. His entire form was no longer gangly. He was erect like a viper ready to strike, every muscle in his body flexed and ready to retaliate as he stood motionless fourty feet above the ground on a thin log.

It was his final test of patience, his final show of strength. It was the fourth day now, standing on that log without moving. He was standing in the city's square, all the people going on their businesses like there was nothing unusual. They were forbidden to talk to him or help him in any way.

His vision was starting to get blurry, and he felt his strength fleeing from his body, but he stood motionless. When his mentor will decide he had had enough will the trial be blessedly over. He kept a careful attention on his spell rune, the only thing he was ever taught to read, which embarrassment him to no end; it was a thing he had kept secret even from his family. The rune thumped, in synch with the beating of his heart. It kept the air around him cool and humid, helping him overcome his worsening dehydration. It pulsed with bright color every time his attention went sidetracked.

The night was falling again, preparing him for day five. He could no longer even think, his whole being stood like a statue, his thoughts and feelings dormant under a harsh blanket of determination and numbness. A rustle came from behind him, and in the moment he felt the air shifting around him Sheik was a flurry of motion.

The kick that was aimed to his head with extreme precision was the first of the first volley of the last part of his test. His mentors and soon to be peers came to evaluate him, trying to knock him off of his pole. Every one of them had one single shot to take him out, while he had the option to fight back in every way he saw fit without leaving his pole for more than five seconds.

Sheik bent down in the spur of the moment, pushing himself off of the pole with the strength of his hands alone, bolting into the air like an arrow. He saw the pole shake violently as the man who tried to kick him flew over it and underneath Sheik, as another student hit the pole with a hammer on the ground.

They had missed, and their turn was over as Sheik landed back onto the pole, his arms taking in the shock of the impact. He resumed his stance and waited.

The next opponents who came were unimaginative, as they were only students like him, hurtling themselves at him to exhaust him before the real challenge came, hurtling spells, weapons and curses his way before tiring themselves. Impa and Neyrod were his real challenge, as both of his mentors and their attack being the final one. He hoped Neyrod would come already, he hadn't seen a glimpse of him these past few days, as the man preferred to watch from the shadows, unlike Impa who let him see she was watching him for the last couple of hours.

She was still crouched on the same rooftop in the same position she had kept for the last five hours; watching him like a hawk. He looked at her, and she returned a stony stare.

An hour passed, the students leaving him, going to their homes after their parts were done.

It was him and Impa now, in a battle of will.

The pulses of the rune started to dim, and his head turned fuzzy. Why was he even doing this trial? He was a fine warrior with the trial or without it; his red Jibal was the fair proof of his worthiness. His eyes started to close, as his head cleared of any thoughts. Impa's eyes crinkled ever so slightly. Something was off.

It was a spell! Neyrod was coming!

Physical strength and agility wasn't enough now. Sheik reached deep within him, to that bright core of magic that lay deep within, igniting it, letting it burn slowly in the pit of his stomach. He opened his eyes, and the world looked different. Everything was painfully vivid, the shadows were inkier and the lights were painfully bright. Within one of these shadows sat his mentor, Neyrod, still not seeing Sheik fully as he was busy casting the exhaustion rune.

He sprang into action as Sheik dropped on all four on the pole, and inhaled sharply. The Shadows around him evaporated into mist, entering him as he inhaled.

Time slowed as commanded.

Neyrod was halfway through the air, a short sword at hand, a dagger in the other and thirteen sharp needles hanging in the air, making their way toward him slowly.

He had neither clothes nor weapon on his person, so the only thing he could do to prevent the needles from punctuating his flesh was to hang from the other side of the pole. Ten dull thunks were heard and a grunt as three needles lodged into sheik's arms and thigh. Sheik pulled himself up, he could no longer stand on the pole as it was full of sharp steel. Neyrod was still up in the air when sheik took a carful position back on the pole and dropped the rune, now armed with nine needles.

Neyrod shot through the air toward him with neck breaking speed, his weapon poised and ready to deal damage to his student. Where was the dagger?

A flash of silver was the only warning he got. He whipped his head to the side as the knife passed what would have been his eye socket.

He felt the push of air and Neyrod was upon him, tackling Sheik, only the latter was ready. He hit the pole hard, the wood digging painfully in the small of his back as Neyrod's sword tried to bite Sheik's throat. The slap of flesh colliding was the only indication that the student was not decapitated. Grabbing his mentor's forearms for dear life Sheik pushed, using the first rune he had ever learned, 'Stun'.

The rune materialized with a great flash of bright blinding light that Sheik saw even behind shut eyelids. He heard Neyrod shout angrily, as the simple trick caught him unready, blinding him. He didn't expect Sheik to use his magic so readily.
He caught the pole with two hands, pushing his legs into the air, circling his mentor's head. Now caught between the boys thighs, Neyrod was losing the little foothold he had. Sheik would have been mortified of the action he was preforming any other day, but he was already desperate. Pulling himself up, he now sat on his Mentor's shoulders, his nudity much more palpable now.

He used the leverage he knew he had and shot his mentor the most lewd glance he could master; his tongue flashing out to lick dried lips. His mentor's eyes opened and blood shot to his face, at that moment he wavered, and Sheik had no qualms to use it against him. He kicked his mentor's wrist as hard as he could, sending the short sword diving into the night.

Not a heartbeat after, Neyrod was tumbling through the air, disappearing into a flashing gate conjured by Impa. The man looked at Sheik incredulously as he reappeared next to Impa. The proud glance he got from the woman as he straightened made him sigh with relief.

"You can come down now, Sheik. Your trial is over."

Suddenly everything crushed upon him. His fatigue, his thirst and hunger, his legs gave out beneath him and he fell off of the pole, swallowed by the same gate his mentor fell through, and into blessed sleep.

He couldn't believe he was on stables cleaning duty on his birthday. He would have never complained about spending some time with the war-horses, but cleaning their manure was a different deal altogether. Ferrick was a dead man walking, that bastard. Link contemplated saving some manure in a bucket and stuffing it Ferric's mattress later on that day, but decided against it; there was only that much manure a man could handle a day.

He was sweating and cursing by the time he was finished all the stalls assigned to him. He stopped by on his way for sweet revenge to give Maladict and Epona a pat and an apple. They were his favorite horses in the stables.

It was high-day by the time he was finished. He walked out into the sun, eyes squinted and his long Hylian ears pulled backwards in disdain. He opened a large wooden door, leading into the blessed coolness of the living courters, stopping shortly in his room to gather a fresh, white tunic, a clean pair of boots and his brown soft cow hide pants before heading headlong for the showers.

The hot water singed his skin, but he liked steaming showers. A new round of trainees was bound to come soon, he soaped himself thoughtfully. He rubbed the small scented bar of soap through his hair, removing grime and sweat and returning the golden metallic sheen to his hair. It was a gift from one of the mages, although he could not understand their urge to make him smell like flowers.

Exiting the public shower, fully dressed and hair damped, Link suddenly notice a very peculiar thing. The corridors were empty? Where were his age mates?

"Oi!" he heard the shout from behind him as he was tackled to the floor. "Happy birthday, horse lover" Three heavy bodies hit him in a row as three of his best friends wrestled him, trying to pull a floral crown on top of his head. Ferric was the first to pull back to his feet, accompanied by Hylion and Leon, watching their handiwork as a very embarrassed Boy of eighteen stood up and tried to yank a floral crown off of his golden hair.

"It won't come off!"

"Of course it won't come off! We had the girls engrave sticking runes to it." They all smiled with triumph. A string of curses streamed freely from his mouth as his friends laughed.

"Oh, how the mighty have fallen!" Said an amused feminine voice from behind him. Link turned, trying to look as if everything was normal, and that he was not embarrassed by the crown of roses that now stuck out from his hair like a sore thumb.

"They mighty is standing quite fine on his feet, thank you, Dyna." He said, dejectedly yanking it with all his might but to no avail. She walked passed them, white novice dress swishing temptingly as she hurried by to her high-day class.

"Damn" whistled Ferric his gaze following not so discreetly after the walking girl. Link rolled his eyes.

"So, where is the good part of the deal where I get stuck with roses in my hair?"

The smiles he got from his friends shot a wave of chills through his entire body.

It was a day and a half after Sheik's trial, and three hours after he had gotten his letter. Impa had no need to explain why he was chosen for the job, or why he was sent to the royal academy for the arts of war and arcane to complete his training.

He was to be Her Highness's Princess Zelda, High seat of house Daphnese, keeper of the sacred realm and a fifteen years old girl's body guard. It wasn't fair for him to be sent so casually away from his home, away from everything familiar and comforting in the spur of a moment; but nothing in life was fair when it came to the demands of the high houses.

Although at the moment, Princess Zelda was the last thing on Sheik's mind. A piece of paper clutched in a death grip in his palm, he was headed toward the small shed that lay on the outskirts of the large graveyard. He wanted to know if his guess was right, and the note that was left for him on his bedside was intriguingly surprising. He knew he was due to meet the man only a few hours later, but Sheik was never one for surprises. He had left his parent's house and his sister's doting care with vague notions of his whereabouts.

The lock was rusted shut, and Sheik wondered whether it had been tempered with, a thing that with slight magical inspection proved to be just a paranoid thought. He favorite a drafty window over the rusted lock and slithered into the shed, waiting.

He cast a light-swallowing rune around him when he heard a small rustle of dead leaves from outside. The lock croaked when opened with skilled, nimble fingers, and the door opened with surprising silence, and a curly head peered into the shed wearily, checking for intruders.

Sheik was surprisingly satisfied as his mentor crawled silently into the shack, thick brown braid hanging from his shoulder, and never noticed the shadow lurking in the corner. Sheik heard a rustle of cloth and suddenly there was the soft light of a candle.

"Nice of you to join me"

Few blond hairs fell to the ground as a knife embedded itself in the wall right next to Sheik's head. "Sheik." He sounded surprised. It seemed like such a dumb thing to say, but it was hard to think of anything else to say above the raging beatings of his heart. Neyrod felt the anxiety climb up his spine and in front of his protégé too!

Sheik cleared his throat. "Neyrod. You invited me to come…?"

Neyrod cleared his throat as well, calming his beating heart.

"Yes, it seems that I have."

Heavy silence settled on both of them. The two men were suddenly at loss of words, even though they had been mentor and student for three years now, they were searching one another, trying to feel if there was something more to it, something the other was trying to hide.

"Your trial was excellent." Neyrod started, "I heard about the new position you are about to get" He cleared his throat, looking a bit abashed "it's a great honor….Serving princess Zelda in Hyrule castle. You must be excited." The truth was he wasn't sure he wanted Sheik to leave.

"Yes, I gue-"Sheik stopped, "I mean, it is all very…sudden and different, you know?"

"- how did you know, Sheik?" Neyrod cut in.

A soft light ignited in Sheik's eyes, and Neyrod knew that Sheik knew exactly what he was referring to.

"It was a lucky guess?" Sheik said softly, he was being evasive, but Neyrod had to know, he had to find out the meaning of that look; it passed such a strong thrill through him when they fought, when he saw that glance; but the adrenaline coursing through his veins may have confused him, or made him misjudge what he saw.

"Sheik" He didn't want to stutter, but he was afraid he might get there tonight "I- Ehm- I mean, what I meant to say was-"

"- I am here am I not?" offered Sheik, "Doesn't that mean something?" They looked at each other. It wasn't a romantic moment.

They didn't feel sparks or butterflies or all of those things, when they closed the distance, and the kisses that followed Sheik's hesitant affirmation were not soft nor sweet, but wild, rough and needy. Sheik was pushed unceremoniously against a wall, his mentor's hands in his hair, on his face, his hips, grabbing a handful of his ass. He moaned into Sheik's mouth as his tongue slithered into the warm caverns of his mouth. Neyrod's hands stayed firmly on non-dangerous areas, although Sheik felt the fire burning in him, especially now, while he was hard like a rock, and chafing lightly against his mentor's thigh.

"I think I understood it a long time ago, but never really took the time to see what I felt about it-ah!" Sheik was cut in mid-sentence when his mentor sucked on a sensitive spot on his collarbones." Neyrod" Said Sheik and the man looked up, "I'm sorry it took me so long" he had meant it, and it surprised him how desperate he felt, he didn't want to go, not now and not ever. Their lips met, and Sheik tried to say goodbye.

Neyrod kissed his throat hungrily, making Sheik squirmed a little in his grip, when he moved, they met. He couldn't contain the moan that had escaped his lips, looking into Sheik's dilated pupils, his mouth hanging open in a silent cry of pleasure as their erections grinded. Sheik had had enough waiting apparently, when Neyrod felt his hand plummeting into his pants and taking hold of his leaking cock. His head flew backwards when Sheik tightened his grip and started stroking him, softly and then harshly, caressing, loving and then forcefully and haughtily. He kissed his mentor's throat and whispered huskily into his ear.

"You told me once you'd never let me go" he bit the earlobe and pushed the man.

Neyrod sunk backwards, suddenly aware he was sitting on a crate as the haze of passion and pleasure was cleared from his mind. The nimble fingers of a lock picker undid the laces of his pants with speed, and Neyrod felt cold air hitting his red swollen, cock, not before he had to bite out a yell when Sheik took him entirely into his mouth.

Sheik was sure he was doing something right as he brushed his tongue down to the man's balls, sucking on them lightly. He went up and down, unreletlessly, not afraid and not ashamed, just admiring the man; his tongue went over the shaft, and down, biting lightly. Neyrod's hand shot down and laced through his hair, taking hold of his finely woven braid, and tugging at it, moaning loudly and pushing Sheik's head, prompting him to go faster. He couldn't contain himself anymore when Sheik bared his teeth, scarping his cock lightly as his head bobbed up and down his erection, and when he sped up and started to hum deep in his throat, he lost it completely. He felt his balls tightening and with a pleasured grunt, he came hard. He heard Sheik's surprised intake of breath, but the boy continued to suck him dry, licking the slit of his cock, never breaking eye connection with him.

He was panting heavily now, as he looked at Sheik straightening, his own erection pressed against his trousers while his torso was bare. He licked his lips. His hairs stood at attentions when a cool wave of wind passed through the shed, but he kept looking at his mentor. Neyrod sat on a crate, his shirt was nowhere to be seen, his pants still halfway down his calves and his cock was getting hard again, rising slowly as he looked at Sheik, who started unlacing his own clothes, taking his time with his pants. His muscles flexed, and his cock twitched when finally Sheik slipped his pants down fully, kicking his pants to the corner.

He had seen him naked before, at the communal showers, yes, but this was far more erotic then he ever thought Sheik was capable of being. His thought went completely blank when Sheik strode in front of him, with all his cat-like grace, and sat on his lap, a thigh at every side of him, circling him. He wrapped his hands around him and kissed his baffled mentor deeply, taking his time leisurely, licking and biting his ear teasingly, while straddled him, grinding their erections together.

Everything felt sweet and slow and not as violently passionate as Sheik would have liked it to be.

He hummed with satisfaction when he felt a hand caressing his ass non-too-gently, and a finger prodding its way to his entrance. A first finger enters, Neyrod is kissing him to hush his pained hiss, a second one joins in and he moves them around. When the third one joins in Sheik is too lost in his own private world of pleasure to notice his surroundings. He moans loudly, moving with fingers that do such wonderful things to him, he picks his ass up a little into the air, and Neyrod complies, going faster and deeper. He touches something inside him, Sheik's vision explodes and with a pleasured shout he comes all the while Neyrod whispers soothing things in his ears.

They are both gazing lustily at each other, hard anew with a burning passion and the knowledge it might be the last time they see each other for the next few years or so. They are on each other a second time, kissing, licking, biting and searching, and when Sheik feels Neyrod positioning himself at his entrance he doesn't wait and plummet down, his mentor's cock swallowed hastily by an eager body.

Sheik usually wasn't one for surprises, but this he could get used to.

They are both overwhelmed by each other, their skin is on fire and every touch ignites it anew. Sheik moves hesitantly at first, but gaining confidence as his mentor's hands catch his hips with an almost bruising touch, taking him harder, and faster, while thrusting from below into his student who is stretched wide, hopping on his cock. He moves him up and down on his shaft, his hips slapping the boy's ass making slightly wet noises that just turn him on more.

Sheik can't hold back and he goes faster, bouncing and cursing without shame while he was being invaded. He loved it, and he hated it, was this really the last time? Neyrod's thrusts become more erratic and harsher as he nears his limits. It felt so good, and so bitter, being filled and emptied, slammed into as he rode the man. Every lewd thought the man ever had on him tumbed down from his mouth into Sheik's ear, igniting his cheeks. He was having some very vivid hallucinations, every word made clear by swift thrust from behind. Then, in midsentence, Neyrod comes inside him, and the sensation alone makes Sheik see the three. He thrusts into Neyrod's hand that took hold of his straining erection, a cock still buried deeply inside him, moving erratically as Neyrod rides out his orgasm into Sheik, quite literally. he goes faster and even though pain is starting to mix with the pleasure, Sheik is too far gone to care. It was the first and last time, after all. Sheik topples over the edge as he experiences the dying rays of an orgasm, moving against his mentor, slithering, demanding more, and demanding he enters him again. They don't need to sleep, do they? But Neyrod refuses, as gently as he could.

He presents him with the most beautiful smile, sleepy eyes and a kiss, a deep one, like the one passing between long time lovers. Neyrod too was saying goodbye.

Sheik can barely stay awake after they both get cleaned and fall asleep together, in a small shed on the outskirts of an old graveyard. When he feels safe in Neyrod's arms Sheik bitterly wishes he was someone else.

The sun was barely up above the horizon when Sheik was hoisted into a merchant's cart, on its way to the crown province of Hyrule. He had bid his family goodbye yesterday. His sister had clung to his shirt, weeping on his new white Jibal, which marked him an assassin. His mother had hugged him twice, trying not to cry too much as she gave him his farewell gift, a silver set of three earrings, designed to sit one his ear lobes and one on his ear shell. She said to never take them off. They were his protection.

His father pulled him into a hug, he too wearing a jibal, but a blue one, which marks him a soldier. They didn't need to say goodbye, as he was not sad his son was leaving. He was proud and honored his son was destined for such a high ranking position within the Hylian court, and that his son was one of the few to earn an assassin's Jibal.

Impa didn't say much, and Sheik preferred it that way, they both knew he was about to carry a heavy burden, and they both knew she had prepared him the best that she possibly could to surpass any challenges that awaited him in the capitol.

He smiled a bit as he thought of his second and final encounter with his mentor. Neyrod had taken him again the morning after, leaving a wrapped gift his bed when he awoke, wrapped next to him. His gift was now securely strapped to his hip, in its new sheath, golden pommel glinting in the early morning's sun.

He looked back at his house as it shrunk away and at his hometown and province until they were all too far away for him to distinguish. With the sun fully up in the sky, Sheik cuddled in the back of the cart, putting his head on his pack, and fell into deep sleep. He felt, deep in his heart, that this was an ending, and that the beginning was about to be the toughest one he's have to deal with his entire life. So for now, he rested, unaware that he was moving with him a lot more than just him and his possession, but also a new cycle of calamity, that would rage upon them once again.

A\N- now, I know it is vague, and weird and plainly confusing- but bare it with me! Aside from the face that I am slightly intoxicated at the moment (I have read and re read this whole chapter about a thousand times, and it is entirely different from the original one, so do not worry)I want an honest opinion about my writing style and suggestions! I love those.. This is actually the first sex scene I have ever written, so I would like your honest opinion's and suggestions, since there will be more in following chapters. I have the whole plot down, and there is nothing to stop me! So yea!

Please leave a review- I really appreciate knowing you are there, plus, I would like to hear what you think and things you'd like to have in the story. (I seriously have to go to sleep already, I am wasting my Friday away!)

Lots of love-

-Trogmorten.