It was 5am.
They had arrived in Kakariko not long before. Link kissed Zelda goodbye in Impa's receiving room, and Traveled from the balcony using the Sheikah Slate.
Link rematerialized on the travel gate of Rota Ooh Shrine, blinking as his eyes adjusted to the waning darkness. He paraglided toward the Coliseum, forgoing the Outskirt Stable altogether. Landing on a shelf, part way up the hilly outcropping to the south, he used the Slate to scope the coliseum.
They had heard of the beasts patrolling the coliseum ruins, still keeping vigil even though the Calamity was gone over a year now. Monsters still roamed, but fewer in number by far. However, word had spread about the large number of them congregating in central Hyrule, in the coliseum. He knew it was high time to take care of them.
Link scanned with the sights of the Slate. White and Gold Bokoblins, Moblins, and various Lizalfos patrolled the stone walkways. And there, in the center stalking proudly, a Gold Lynel.
The sun was just breaking the horizon. Link drew a breath, then opened his pack and began preparing for the battle. He knew this one would be intense, and had made special plans to protect himself as much as possible. He pulled the Barbarian Armor from the pack, setting the various components aside. Maurado wolf fur-lined boots and metal-riveted vest. Leather and bone bracers. Utilitarian loincloth. Finally, he reached for the skull-and-tusked helm, turning it reverently in his hands.
The thing he held was the actual reason he had to convince Zelda to stay away. He'd acquired this armor piece by piece from the farthest corners of Hyrule, hidden away in forgotten labyrinths. When he donned them, well... he became different.
Each item held a piece of a clue, a recipe, he later learned. When he sat one night by his cooking pot, and shuffled the ingredients together, he created a very potent Mighty Elixir. It wasn't until he next wore the Barbarian costume, fighting a Lynel, that he realized the true mode of the elixir.
The Lynel drew back, inhaling a breath so deep that sparks combusted on the way into his lungs, then blew breath after breath of fire, chasing Link.
Link tripped up, feeling his exposed skin sizzle under the heat. The ingredients spilled from his bag, catching fire. He rolled through the smoke and fire, trying to force himself up to face his foe again. A few razorshrooms, a bladed rhino beetle, and a shard of the mighty Farosh's horn were burning in the grass, enveloping Link in a haze of bloodlust.
He saw red. Suddenly filled with a careless invincibility, he rose to his feet, locking onto the Lynel. Anger and a unquenchable desire to slay the enemy flooded his senses. That the Lynel had the audacity to exist at all was incomprehensible. All that mattered, all other needs honed together into this one feeling. Every attack landed on the animal left him feeling unnaturally confident. Every blow he sustained brought forth an internal anger so hot he screamed with rage.
Uncontrollable. That was the only word he could use to describe it. The armor, when used in conjunction with the recipe, filled him with the basest of animal instincts. Uncontrollably barbaric.
After that first fight, hours after the Lynel had been slain, his head finally cleared. His consciousness faded in from black with his memory complete. He was horrified. He remembered what he'd done, his inner anger, with the feeling of having had no control over it. He washed the blood and war paint away in the river, shocking himself in the cool after so many hours of boiling rage. He sat back on a rock near the bank, staring into the fire he'd built to steady himself and ward off stals. What had happened? The memory of a scent filled his brain and everything clicked. The recipe was to be smoked... a kind of inhalant that would induce insane bloodlust and baser barbarianism.
It took Link some time before he was tempted to try the gear again. But try he did, and his hypothesis was confirmed. He smoked the dried mushrooms, beetle parts and dragon horn in a tobacco pipe, then painted his skin in black swirls with the ashy remains. And slaughtered a white moblin camp. The Barbarian inside was ashamed for the monsters, being bested so easily. There was hardly a fight.
Staring at the Coliseum now, Link knew this was reason to summon The Barbarian.
But Zelda could not see him this way.
He'd convinced her to stay in Kakariko Village, with Impa and Paya, while he dealt with the coliseum. She had no trouble voicing that she didn't like him going alone, but in the end, a promise to return home to her alive made her acquiesce. Using the Barbarian was the surest way to make good on that promise.
Link emptied the satchel of dried ingredients he had prepared earlier, already ground down into minced pieces, into the bowl of his pipe. He sent a quick prayer to the goddesses, then sparked the pipe with his flint. He drew, then exhaled, a cloud pouring from his mouth like Death Mountain's warning. After a few more puffs, he doused the pipe with water began the ritual of The Barbarian.
First, he wrapped his legs. That was the most difficult to put on when his consciousness began to forsake him. He wound the Faron silk around his calves and knotted them at the hairy boots. Next, he began to paint the rough swirls and dots over his thighs ("to stabilize thy stance") and his abdomen ("to enhance the bloodlust"), before crossing the lines of paint over his upper arms ("to strengthen thy slay"). On went the bone bracers, and baldric, quiver, bow, and sheikah holster. And finally, just as his head was beginning to feel fuzzy, he put on his helm. And started for the Coliseum.
Link heaved, bellowing a cry of triumph as his last blow brought the Gold Lynel to his knees. Bodies and limbs of broken Bokoblins and Lizalfos littered the floor with glistening guts and scuffed weapons. The rich honey of victory oozed through his veins and he shouted again, a hoarse, guttural call. He stumbled forth, wading through the carnage to gather as much value as he could carry. Then, with the practiced movements of memory ingrained, he touched the Slate and warped home.
Blue tendrils lit up the night, reaching around him and lifting him skyward, disappearing him into a Travel realm.
Link appeared on the Myahm Agana Shrine, still ravenous with barbarism but spent and satisfied with the fight and spoils. He stomped resolutely over the bridge ears perked for wandering deer or fox in the darkness, piqued for another kill with a raw meat prize. He felt he could eat an entire roast off the bone, the image of meat turning on a spit over a bonfire boiling in his mind. But when no such beast appeared, he trudged up the slope and pushed open his own door with one hand.
He loosed his pack and lifted his helm away, dropping it on the floor.
"Link?"
A gentle voice echoed between his ears, thrumming.
He whipped his head to the right. There. On the stairs. A woman. His woman. The remaining bloodlust that had lingered disappeared in an instant. In its place a heated beast reared its head, a new conquest enveloping the senses of the feral warrior that Link had set loose.
"Goddesses. Are you alright?"
Her voice sounded far away, ricocheting from all around him. His bow and quiver joined the rest on the floor. He took the first step, slowly stalking her up the stairs. Deft fingers loosened one bone bracer, then the other. He ascended toward her resolutely, entire consciousness fully attuned to attaining her.
"Link?"
He saw her slender arm grip the rail. Gleaming soft flesh, calling to him, not unlike the way the monster flesh called. All encompassing. His eyes darted to her chest, hips, thighs, all gently outline by her nightgown. Wretched thing. It had to go.
She began to back up the steps, retreating to the very place he would claim her. He continued stalking, reaching the loft and trapping his prey. He eyes were wild, fear blown and darting relentlessly around him.
"Link.. you're scaring me.."
The words sounded beautiful in her voice, though they meant nothing. It was woman-lust thrumming through his veins now, heightened by his complete victory over the monsters. One thought, one end, dictated his every move.
Finally upon her, he reached bloody fingers into her hair, squeezing his hand to feel the strands like silk in his fist. She cried out, pressing her arms forward in a futile attempt to keep him at bay. The Barbarian inside laughed at this. As if she could keep him away. He inhaled stiffly, drawing in a sweet breath of her scent before he pulled her head forward and crashed his mouth to hers. She moaned in surprise, stilling against his chest. He loosened his grip from her hair and grabbed both arms, forcing them into his right hand.
She shrieked as his sword hand drew a blade, a vicious sickle that survived the coliseum battle. A couple quick swipes perforated her night gown and the blade clattered to the floor. His woman's eyes were wide, relief, confusion, and fear etched into her face. Link pushed her down on the bed unceremoniously, then straddled her to pin her in place. It wouldn't do to have her running out of the house. It just wouldn't do.
With quick movements he unstrapped his baldric and Slate holster while she shimmied between his knees, searching for purchase to escape. Finally unencumbered of his gear, Link clutched two fists of the offensive nightdress and, with a quick jerk, tore it. The beautiful woman eeped in surprise.
Link leered down at her body pinned beneath his. Her arms had splayed to the side, momentarily disarmed when he ripped her nightgown open. She was watching his face, cheeks pink as sunrise and her eyes... beautiful, aquamarine, wide with an emotion he couldn't decipher. Her lips were parted in shock, panting delicately, releasing the exhales of her heaving chest. Her chest...smooth skin of peaches and cream, soft mounds of ripe flesh.
He drove forward, grabbing her breasts and squeezing them roughly, burying his face against her sternum. A growl rippled from deep inside him as he felt her fingers lace through his hair and scratch his scalp. He pulled her hands away from his hair, holding them down at her sides and brought his mouth to hers. He thrust his tongue inside, possessing her piqued his already heady feeling of power coursing through him.
He could annihilate his enemies. He could take their souls, stop them from ever deigning to come against him again. He could take whatever he wanted from anyone. He could take what he wanted from her. She was fortunate to have a man like him. She would never be in danger of an enemy as long as she had him. His seed would bore her strong children. She was lucky to lay for him.
He released her hands and ripped the rest of the nightdress, tearing it fully. He grunted a smile, finding that she wasn't wearing underclothes beneath her shredded gown. His woman didn't wear the trappings of the high born in the bed.
Link wasted no time pulling his cock from the waist of his tribal leggings. Then he grabbed her legs and forced open her thighs, jutting forward to growl into her ear. "Mine.."
He mashed himself against her opening and she shouted in surprise. She was so warm, so soft and pliant. He buried his face in her neck, licking and sucking, wildly tossing his head back and forth to each collar bone. He grunted with each thrust, reveling in her warm wet sheath.
Her voice seemed clearer now, right near his ear. Though she had given up on words, her cries and shouts in time with his thrusts were a language he understood. Her keening became frenzied when he palmed a breast and sucked hard on the nipple.
With her arms finally free, she reached her fingers through his hair once more, then over his shoulders, then around his back, clinging.
Link's hands moved from her tits around her waist to her ass, cupping her against him. He was getting so close to rapture, wild with the thought of making her pregnant. He pounded relentlessly, until the sound of her wailing ecstasy brought the barbarian to triumph once more. He spilled his seed deep between her legs with a rough groan.
They lay, panting together. Her face was smashed to the side, looking at nothing as she gasped to catch her breath. Link nuzzled her neck, loathe to bring himself out of her swollen cunt.
When he did finally sit up to pull free of her, he noticed sweat had smeared the war paint over her body. The woman lay spent, stained with his paint, bruised by his lips, and filled with his seed. He tossed aside his shoulder armor and tribal leggings, threw his arm possessively over her waist, and went to sleep.
When Zelda awoke the next morning, Link was sitting on side of the bed with his back to her. She shuffled gently in the bed.
"Why are you here? You weren't supposed to be here." He dropped his head into his hands.
She touched his back, but he made no movement. He was nearly numb with self-loathing and unable to accept her comforting gesture. The mattress shifted as she moved.
"You didn't seem to mind me being here last night," she finally ventured.
"Gods. Zelda—" He struggled with what to say, finally deciding on, "Are you okay?" He glanced over his shoulder, keeping his body fully away from her, using his back as shield. She had sat up fully and wrapped the blanket around her chest.
"I am. Are you?"
He exhaled a shaky breath. "Gods," he swore again. "I'm so sorry."
"I really am okay. Do you want to tell me what's going on?"
Finally, Link shifted his weight to look at her fully. He searched her neck for the bruises from his suckling kisses. His eyes darted down as if he could see the black paint still smeared on her abdomen and between her legs, though she kept the blanket tucked carefully.
Gods. How had the night gone so wrong? "How did you even get here?"
"That's all you have to say?" Impatience lanced through her words. She huffed, then admitted, a bit guiltily, "Purah was also visiting Impa. When she set to leave in the evening, she offered to Travel me back.
With the Sheikah Slate she built.
"I asked you to stay in Kakariko," he defended quietly.
"Link, tell me what's going on."
With overwhelming guilt he explained what he thought he knew about the Barbarian Armor set. He told her briefly of the labyrinths where he found each piece, focusing more on the clues of Mighty Recipe and the effects of everything combined.
"It's as if someone else is inside me, someone else is controlling me... and I don't trust anyone else with you."
"But it's not someone else... it's you. You would never hurt me."
He looked at her dryly. "Are you saying I didn't hurt you last night?"
"Well... maybe a little. But, actually... I did...enjoy it."
He furrowed his brow at this. "I didn't want you to see the feral in me, and I didn't trust him, either. Now I really don't."
She smirked at this, which seemed to only bolster his argument.
"You don't understand. I remember everything from last night, every thought, every feeling. But I had no control. I could have seriously hurt you... if... if you didn't like it, I wouldn't have cared. I would have taken what I wanted anyway." His stomach turned at the memory of his great desire to put a baby in her. His cock stirred traitorously. "I had no idea the Barbarian recipe would also have... effects other than bloodlust. I was right to keep you away. But I didn't know how dangerous it was. You don't know how ashamed I am. The Barbarian... he never even remembered your name. You were just... my woman."
Pink stained her cheeks, but her voice was steady. "You're not giving yourself enough credit. You were there, Link," she soothed. "You were still in there, protecting me. Loving me, in your own way..." He felt her complete confidence in him, though he wasn't sure he believed in it himself. "I wish you would have told me about the armor. And the recipe."
"You wouldn't have wanted me to use it."
"So you went behind my back?"
"Yes!" Link's hands slammed into his knees emphatically. "I wasn't lying. The Coliseum ruins was a nasty fight. I knew it would be. And I wanted to keep my promise to you. To come home. That recipe was the surest way to take those things down."
Zelda sidled up to him, winding her arms around his waist. Link covered her hand with one of his and leaned his head against hers, relenting at last to accept her comfort.
"You're right. I wouldn't have wanted you to use it. It sounds like some sort of mind-altering psychosis. It scares me that I haven't tested it at all, and know so little about it." Her fingers brushed his hair, then stilled. "It was frightening at first. I didn't know you.. weren't there. I didn't know that was even in the realm of possibility. Then, you had the sickle."
Link pinched his eyes closed.
"I thought you had been brainwashed by the Yiga or something. But when you dropped the weapon and pushed me down, all that fear transmuted into quite a different feeling." Her serious tone lifted into gentle tease.
His head dropped into his hands again.
"You were so animalistic. I felt like a.. reward."
"He thought you were," Link admitted.
Zelda glanced at him, sidelong. "Do you think I am?"
Link met her eyes, unable to fathom that she didn't already know the answer. Maybe she did, but he'd tell her again and again, anytime she asked, so long as he lived. He cupped her face in his hands, filling his eyes and voice with as much emotion as he could muster. "You are the greatest reward. Everything I do is for you. That you love me is more than I could ever have hoped for."
She was a goddess. And he was a barbarian.
Edited 11/17/2020
A/N: Hope you enjoyed!
I borrowed ingredients from reddit user SketchiJay's post about high-level elixirs for the Mighty Elixir here.