A/N: I'm not going to continue this. I've really lost interest in this particular idea.
Flagrant yaoi. Don't like Link/Gannondorf, don't read.
If you hated chapter three, you are really going to despise this. ;)
***
My hopes are so high your kiss might kill me
So won't you kill me, so I die happy
My heart is yours to fill or burst, to break or bury
Or wear as jewelry, whichever you prefer
Dashboard Confessional, Hands Down
***
Gannondorf had commanded, and Link was too weary to refuse. His sword and weapons had been stripped from him. He had no assurance he would ever see them again, or, for that matter, that he would ever see another morning. He did not believe Gannondorf would kill him, especially after passing up a perfect opportunity. But of course it could just be wistful thinking.
Without once looking back to see if Link was following him, Gannondorf led him up staircase after staircase. Every once in awhile the stairs branched off into dark corridors. When they had come to the highest level, Gannondorf took a torch from its bracket and led him down the windowless hallway, lighting other torches set in the wall as he went. He stopped before a door and set the torch within a niche. He took of his boots, opening the door for Link, gestured for Link to remove his as well, and set his inside the doorway.
The room itself was surprisingly inviting, especially compared to the rest of the castle. Light spilled in from innumerable windows. The walls were the same stucco color of rooms in the Gerudo Compound. Beside the door was a table on which was set things people would pick up just as they left, and weapons hung on hooks beside it. Gannondorf hung his sword on one of the empty hooks and walked into his bedchamber with Link at his heels.
An entire wall of the room had been replaced with a stained-glass mosaic depicting a Gerudo woman fighting a huge, misshapen dragon. Link could not break his gaze away from it until Gannondorf said, "Sit down," jolting Link from his thoughts. Link sat on the Gerudo King's bed, becoming genuinely worried about what was intended for him.
"That is Intisar, the greatest of my foremothers," Gannondorf said. "I'll tell you about her sometime, if you like. Now, take off your tunic and undershirt." He walked into another room and Link could hear the clink of bottles and pots being moved. Eventually he came back with two bottles, one containing large green-blue leaves, the other containing a whitish powder.
Link did as he was told. He hissed in pain as his muscles screamed in fresh pain from being moved. For lack of anything better to do with them, he threw his bloody clothes to the floor.
Gannondorf pulled a leaf out and gave it to Link. "Chew on this for a minute. You can swallow it when I'm done. It will numb your wounds. This powder will really hurt."
He sat down in front of Link and dipped his fingers into the powder. He sprinkled it over the deep gash across the hero's chest, and Link hissed in pain—it hurt, though not as badly as receiving the wound had. It closed over more slowly than would have with a red potion, but it closed completely with barely a trace of the wound.
"Why are you doing this?" Link asked.
"Because I can," Gannondorf replied.
He dusted the other wounds with the powder in a way that seemed careless and wasteful but was not. He did not again speak or ask questions, and did not seem to care that he was tending his enemy's wounds.
He moved behind Link to dust the other end of the puncture wound in Link's shoulder and wiped his fingertips on the edge of the mattress. "Did I miss anything?"
"No," Link said.
"Any broken ribs?"
He laid his hands on Link's hips in almost a caress and slid them slowly upward. Link's breath caught in his throat, and he desperately hoped that Gannondorf had not noticed.
The Dark Lord leaned forward, his forehead touching the back of Link's neck. "Nothing else?"
"I…"
Whatever he had intended to say was abruptly lost as Gannondorf began gently kissing Link's neck. It would not occur to Link until much later, but it at some point occurred to him how such a light, casual touch could totally wreck his train of thought.
Gannondorf wrapped his arms around Link's chest and pulled the hero closer to him. His head rested lightly against Link's.
"I am sorry I hurt you so badly today," he said. As if making a conscious effort to distract Link, he was running his hands slowly up and down Link's torso. "I would have spared you the pain, but you gave me little choice."
"I… um…" Link's powers of communication had apparently decided to give up and go out for tea. He found he could not speak, though the words clustered together in his head. He wanted to say that of course he forgave Gannondorf; that he knew he had given the king no other choice, but his tongue seemed not to be under his control. He desperately wanted to know if Gannondorf had meant anything by his kisses or was just taunting him.
He could not help but notice that they seemed to fit perfectly together. He suspected that they would be more comfortable if he would loosen up, but, like his tongue, his tensed muscles refused to do his bidding.
Gannondorf leaned down again, kissing and biting the knob of collarbone that ended in Link's shoulders before moving up his neck to his ear. "I take it that since you haven't tried to kill me, you would like me to continue?" he said, smiling.
"Gods, yes," Link sighed. Just as the powder had healed his wounds, Gannondorf's touch seemed to be healing his soul, filling the holes in his broken heart.
Gannondorf's tongue was on Link's ear, warm and soft and wonderful. Link wanted desperately to turn around and kiss him, but that would mean breaking away from Gannondorf, having him stop whatever it was that was making Link melt in his arms.
With a shift that was so gradual Link barely noticed it, Gannondorf had borne him down onto the mattress and flipped him over. Then his wonderful, talented lips were pressed against Link's and his equally marvelous tongue was slipping into the hero's mouth.
It was comforting, though Gannondorf was still in his full plate armor. His cape spread over Link, enveloping both of them. Link could feel the hard curves of Gannondorf's armor; the tiny bejeweled rivets set on his hips dug painlessly into the insides of Link's thighs. The armor was icy, causing gooseflesh to break out over him. Yet for all of that he would have changed nothing.
This is too perfect! Link thought. I don't deserve any of this! What would Gannondorf want with me, the pathetic man who seeks his destruction? Why in the name of Din would he care about me?
But then the lips were gone once again. Gannondorf propped himself up on his elbows, grinning over his conquest. His hair fell onto Link's face—long strands of flame that tickled horribly.
"Why?" Link asked softly. This, too, came out of his mouth before he could stop it. He instantly regretted asking—he did not want to know, not really, not yet. Not yet. Not while everything seemed so perfect that reality was surely no thicker than the wall of a soap-bubble. With even a single cruel, barb-tipped word, meant in jest or in truth, Link's dream would be shattered forever.
Gannondorf began laughing, his seductive, fascinating laugh that was purely his own. When the laughter was stilled from his lips, there was still that dazzling smile, dripping with arrogance and the simple joy of being alive. That smile was what had initially attracted Link to him, what had made life worth living again.
"Why?" he said. "There is no why, except that I love you and I want you. That you are my enemy, who has tried to kill me and overthrow my empire, does not matter now, not while I have you beneath me. Why would I not want a gorgeous, incredible man like you?"
The sheer relief of Gannondorf's words sent a rush of emotions through Link, constricting his breathing and seeming to stop his heart. He would never have fathomed in any number of lifetimes that a man like Gannondorf, surely hand-crafted to be the epitome of perfection by the goddesses themselves, could ever utter such words to as worthless a creature as him.
"What would you like me to do?" Gannondorf asked. "I would do anything for you, anything to make you happy. Just name it and it will be yours."
For a long moment, Link did not dare voice what every hormone in his body was screaming for him to say. Finally, he said, "Take off your armor."
A triumphant grin spread over Gannondorf's lips as he stood up. Instantly a wave of cold air engulfed Link. He watched as Gannondorf undid the complicated clasps and hooks attaching his armor together. Buckles that from Link's view seemed impossible to loosen came undone without much effort beneath Gannondorf's skilled fingers.
The armor fell into a clattering heap on the floor, partially over Link's tunic. Gannondorf stood before him, gloriously naked and radiantly handsome. Link could not help but marvel at the king's movements—he seemed completely at ease with his body and despite that his mere walk was arousing he was not trying to show off. But, then, he never really was, though he always seemed to be layer of clothing away from being a sex object.
Gannondorf lay back down with him, once again on top of him. Their lips interlocked again, though Link could barely pay attention to the kiss. His hands slipped onto Gannondorf's shoulders, down his arms, over his back, feeling the rock-hard muscle just beneath the surface. He could feel Gannondorf's heart beating against his chest, much slower than Link's libido-driven pulse.
Gannondorf lifted his face, letting strands of his thick hair fall around Link's. "Anything else?"
Link slid his hands around Gannondorf's neck, the fingers of one hand sliding through the fiery hair. "One more thing."