A/N: This kind of came out of nowhere. I blame it on being sick with the flu and pratically high from cough syrup; don't we all have our imaginations run amok when we're under the influence of Nyquil? I'm usually a very fluffy sort of writer, so it's quite of uncharacteristic for me to write something that doesn't include romance (in the dreamy, maudlin sense, anyway). Anyway, this is very much something I penned on a lark, so don't expect much. Actually, I think "don't get your hopes up" is more or less my mantra for all my readers! Enjoy, if you can. And, I must add: constructive criticism is always super fantastic, if you feel like reviewing.


If there was anything that could calm Princess Zelda's frenetic mind after a stressful day spent embroiled in political affairs, it was a nice fuck.

She inwardly grimaced. It was such a vulgar and tawdry realization, but it was still a fact. Her eyes flitted over the figure of the man beside her, but she didn't allow herself to linger over his face. Even without looking, she knew that his eyes were not on her...Hell, his thoughts were probably miles away as well. She pivoted her body so that her porcelain back was all he could see of her, a sigh creeping from her mouth. It seemed somewhat odd that they never fell into a lover's embrace after they were done with their passion-play; he never held her close, lulling her into blissful sleep wrapped in his strong arms. No, it was quite the contrary. Soon he would roll from underneath the satin sheets and dress with nary a word aside from the obligatory "Goodbye, Princess", and slip silently from her bedchamber.

She never imagined that she and Link would end up like this.

Of course, Zelda had never been a wistfully idealistic girl. She knew that love had no place in this complicated affair. In fact, she doubted that it ever had. At best, she had respect for the hero, but usually thoughts of him were accompanied by a mild indifference. She appreciated him and all that he did for Hyrule. How could she not? But the mere suggestion oflove was laughable.

That didn't explain why she was now lying beside him. By the Goddesses, her chest was still heaving up and down in the wake of their ardor and a thin layer of perspiration was only starting to fade from her flushed skin. She stretched her slender legs languorously beneath the covers, taking caution that she didn't touch him. Never mind that only minutes before he had been between those very legs---it was an unspoken rule. They touched each other only when they had to. When they needed to.

Sex. It was nothing more than sex. She accepted it apathetically: he serviced her, she serviced him. It kept her sane, she believed. She craved the release that he gave her, but she could do without him.

So why did she feel so damn empty inside?

Beside her, she felt him stir. The soft rustling as he pulled his emerald-green tunic over his muscular chest echoed through her ears as loudly as cannon fire. She watched his shadow, silhouetted by the sunlight that peeked through the lace curtains that hid their sordid liaisons from the rest of the world. Zelda gazed forlornly as he finished dressing and gathered his sword and shield that he had tossed carelessly beside the bed when he had entered the chamber. He couldn't take his eyes off of her lithe, delicate body then. Now, she noticed that the shadow never turned its head towards her even once.

A series of soft thuds marred the perfect silence as he walked purposefully towards the door. At this lazy time of the afternoon, there was no need to listen for castle staff or soldiers walking in the hall, so he entered the hall without a pause. As he turned to shut the door, Link's eyes briefly swept over the figure lying in the midst of the tousled sheets. The light streaming through the window fell across her face, highlighting her radiance and illuminating a single tear that fell across her ivory cheek.

"Goodbye, Princess." Unconcerned, Link pulled the door closed.