Phoenix

A/N: Hey, my first Zelda fic.! Whoo-hoo! Yeah, well, this
could stay a one-chapter story, unless I get reviews to continue. I need to
take a break from writing other stories now and then, and so I'm trying my luck
here. But, uhhh, I don't need flaming help *runs away and hides under her rock*

~Jameta

 

Phoenix

"Love is not
always welcome."

 

Chapter 1- First
Encounter

 

Swallowing
hard, a young Gerudo ventures slowly through one of the many dark, ancient
hallways of her people's most prided sanctuary, the Spirit Temple. Her long,
unusually black mane, tied back in a golden band extravagantly decorated with
crimson jewels, whips and flows from one beautifully, naturally tanned shoulder
to the other as her head turns from side to side, her abnormal amethyst eyes
darting down the intercepting corridors. Slender fingers anxiously shift on the
fine, ivory-feathered tail of the taut arrow in her master-crafted ebony bow,
waiting to end the life of whatever target she chooses. She can feel his
presence; the pure aura, though it lacks the quality of his father's, almost
tainted in an odd sense that sends shivers down her spine. But where?

A deafening
commotion and swift movement of shadow in the room's firelight catch her
sensitive cochleae and optics of the warrior, and she quickly aims her shaft to
her left, the direction of the clamor. Only an empty hallway meets her
straining eyes, and she cautiously brings her arch down. Just as the black head
is angled toward the stone floor, a cold, silver blade rests itself on her
collar, causing her entire body to cease all movement except the beating of her
humming heart and the wavering of her unsteady breath. Her blood red lips
quiver, fear flooding every part of her; damn him! The dirty bastard had
outsmarted her, and now she is going to pay for her folly with her life! Oh,
well, his decision to get him in an even deeper mess: her execution would
simply evoke her father's wrath.

And if
you're not stupid, you do not enrage the King of Evil.

"Tell
me your name," orders the other individual, pressing the gleaming dagger
harder against her neck, "Or I'll slit your throat!"

"Killing
me would me more trouble than it's worth, hmmmm?" the trapped
princess answers fast, "It will only incense my eagle parent, and I am
well aware of how vital my praenomen hidden from our enemies."

"Have
it your way," sighs her captor and he dares to wrap an arm around her
toned stomach, drawing her too close for comfort, "Has any man, other than
your dear father, been this close to you, beloved Phoenix?"

"I
swear you will be the last willing!" she bites, struggling slightly, her
tensions rising, "Let go of me! This is unmerited conduct!"

"Nay,
sweet Phoenix," breathes the subjugator, rubbing her leg with his
gradually swelling package, "All is fair in love and wand and this
incident happens to have both attributes."

"Let
me go!" cries the Hyrulean Amazon, dropping her bow and attempting to jab
him in the gut.

"Sorry,
I'd rather hold on," he growls as he catches her elbow and slants the
knife up to her chin, "Now, take me to a place where your father cannot
enter without your consent."

"But
that's…" she trails off, a tear falling down her cheek, "As you wish.
I suppose destiny cannot be evaded."

"What?"

"Nothing,
just…never mind."

With that,
all of her stress rushes from her taut muscles to her already troubled mind,
forcing the rest of her to relax. His arms release their grasp around her, and
he follows closely behind as she leads him through a series of sandy tunnels,
never keeping to a pattern, yet on no account hesitating with each turn and
pass as they travel a designated length of the maze. Too many minutes leave
them; growing restless, the master destroys the gap between them and grabs the
leather belt stattaattached to her worn dark auburn slacks, identical to her
father's, while his other palm opens and slaps her sculpted flank. The young
woman jumps in shock and by the force of the hit, blood rushing to her smooth,
yet firm, cheeks, causing desert roses to bloom on her face. The Hero of Time's
descendant chortles and throws her forward with a rough jerk.

"Hurry
up, will you?" he complains, "I'm becoming impatient."

She nods
her head quickly as she catches her balance and picks up her pace. After a few
more passes and turns through the labyrinth, they stop at a lavish, scarlet
Gerudo tapestry, laced with rounded ruby, onyx, and amber stones in complex
patterns native to her people. Carefully, she slides the drapery to a side, the
material folding easily with her force, revealing a portal with an opening like
that of a water's rippling surface; loosely taking his hand, she guides them
into a richly adorned crimson space. Varied weapons preferred by the desert
tribe deck the stonewalls, while a small, modest wooden vanity sits delicately
to a mineral edge near a red curtain that obviously leads to a reserved
bathroom for the sole resident of the apartment, and a large, bedraggled plush
cot rests heavily in the center.

"Why
is Ganondorf not aloud in here freely?" inquires the uninvited guest, gripping
her hand as she begins to take it back.

"No
one can move through that entrance or any barrier to this room with ease except
me," she answers, trembling with his firm grasp, "It is to prt met me
from being hurt and my father from, err, walking in on me while I am, ummmm,
working in a certain fashion…"

"So
the great King of Evil lets his daughter use her body to get what they
need!"

"I
will have you know I am very much a virgin!"

"Alas,
I, too, am not a full adult, though completely innocent, my PlayBoys' can vouch
against. And we won't be children much longer, anyway."

With that,
he pulls her to him and throws an arm around her, his free hand slowly
traveling her back to her waistband. Her heart races as he slides the palm
along the black belt and undoes its buckle before slipping down below her
bikinis. A grin spreads across his face as he runs his fingers through her
coarse, tight curls, and she squirms uncomfortably away from him. Lower he
penetrates, her gasps and whimpers of melancholy driving him onward, and he
places his index and middle fingers between her warm, wet lips. She cries out
in shock, the intrusion startling every nerve; he doesn't acknowledge her and
rests his head in the nook between her shoulder and neck, licking the skin suggestively.
The Gerudo's toned legs unconsciously tighten around his arm, trying to stop
him from further prodding, but he simply exerts more power upon the limb,
shoving his pads under the velvet hood and gently rubbing her hot, sensitive
nub. Immediately, she flails about, desperate to stop the odd, wrong sensations
racing through her veins. A princess is her title, not some man's plaything!

Fed-up with
his unwanted caresses, the young woman slams a clenched fist against the top of
his sleeve, rudely awakening him from any fantasies he was planning on
fulfilling. Glaring at her, he removes himself from her dark chinos and hoists
her roughly into his arms, striding over to the unmade bed. Following
carelessly dropping her across the width of the mattress, he climbs vertically
over her, resting his chest on her stomach and his head between her straddled
legs. In a confused manner, his captive reaches out to his head, grabbing his
navy cap and pulling it off, revealing a long mess of aqua green waves. The conqueror
turns to look at her, his sapphire eyes gleaming sinisterly and his teeth set
in a malicious grin, as one of his arms steal under a bent thigh, and savors
her expression of terror an angst. Every part of him is pulsing with power;
eagerly, he rotates back to oversee the detachment of her lower garments, the
bottom hand pulling and the top pushing. Her unsteady breathing changes to
ragged panting when he achieves undressing her ebony flower and she twists the
cloth hat into knots, his slender digits exploring the damp flesh beneath her
petals. A scream escapes her simultaneously to him shoving his first two
fingers into her depths, the cap falling from her grasp in favor of digging her
hands into the thick comforter below her. While he mimics the ancient method,
his unwilling partner arches her back and throws herself from side to side; the
feeling welling-up inside her, firm, hot, and overwhelming, roused by this man,
is so strange, too unnatural.

Before she
can analyze the matter any further, let alone create a strategy to escape, he
suddenly extracts his fingers and presses his face to her bush. He draws a deep
breath through his nose, taking in her fresh, pungent, earthy, yet dry, like a
desert after a storm, scent. Then, he begins to mouth her black cat, earning
groans of torment, and pushes farther. Gently, he slips his tongue under the
small covering and fiddles with her clit, while she howls in displeasure and
jerks violently around. He chuckles a bit as she grabs and pulls his lengthy
locks; unfazed, he darts deeper, sliding down to her entrance. Lifting the leg
in his grasp to make the position more convenient, the maturing swordsman
shoves his instrument of speech as far as he can into her damp walls. She
shrieks in pain as he laps her insides, yanking harder and harder on his hair,
until finally he falls back, giving her time to firmly cross her legs and fold
her arms across her chest to prevent anymore dishonor. Snorting in discontent,
he lazily stands on his knees and hops onto the floor, striding to the side
opposing her face.

"Alright,
all you lovely ladies," he begins, sounding like a progannoannouncer,
while keeping his back to her, "Please give a warm welcome to first-time
performer and pleaser, Trevan!"

A trivial
grin starts to grow upon the Gerudo's face; what in the world is he doing? Is a r a ravisher or a jester? She may as well go along with and take pleasure (to
anent)ent) in it, for there is nothing she can do to stop it. Her smile widens
when she spots his blushing face, but then the gesture faces, replaced by awe
of his appearance: the young man looks exactly like his father did at the time
he had first left the Chamber of Sages to embark upon his quest through Hyrule,
though his Zora heritage from his mother strikingly enhances his form- those
big, deep navy pools, no longer housing that malevolent shine, but naïve
uncertainness and confusion; pale rose splashed with a hint of light blue skin
shaping his smooth, carved face, paired handsomely with fine brows the shade of
his flowing mane; a pair of beautiful turquoise lips, seeming so delicious
right at this moment. If this splendor was hidden by the dark of the temple,
what does his cobalt tunic, ivory leggings, and leather trappings keep in
secret from her?

"Glad
to see you've lightened up," states the other, startling her, "Ready
for the show?"

He has a
nice voice, too.

Nodding her
head and sitting up to view his little performance better, laying down for so
long straining her neck already, she locks her attention onto him, determined
to see what he, and the whole opposite gender, is all about. After taking a few
deep breaths, he sets off to slowly remove his set of silver gauntlets, pulling
at each half-wrapped digit seductively with his teeth first, then pinching two
fingers on the edge of the middle entrance and slipping the whole glove off.
Next, he carefully unbuckles the brass clasp to the thick, red band tied around
his waist, and proceeds to cause the belt to glide out of his suit's loops, his
jerkin falling freely, and unfortunately, no longer restrained to his figure.
The grin returns to her face's complexion and expands to bare her top front
teeth as he whips the griddle a few times, subsequently takes an end in each
hand and pulls the strap back and forth between his legs erotically against his
family jewels. To supplement the odd entertainment, he begins to rock his hips,
thrusting when he comes forward; his audience frantically tries to stifle her
laughter and falls to a side, reddening madly. Dropping the belt, he quickly
lifts the draping shirt off and kicks off his boots, exposing the argent chain
mail over his cotton, pallid long-underwear. Loud clanging rings through the
atmosphere as he bangs a fist on the bulge flanked by the sheets of woven metal
swathing over his legs, finally breaking her self-control.

"So,
Phoenix," he muses, moving closer to her, "Are you enjoying
yourself?"

"Oh,
shut-up and get back to work!" she answers, pulling a sheet over her
nether region.

The male
Hyrulean shrugs, and in no time, his body armor and a large steel cup are
resting on the floor. Swaying on his feet, he peels of his top, unveiling his
sculpted chest, which the desert heiress immediately crawls over to and reaches
out to touch. His abs ripple slightly as her slender, petite fingers trace
them; as she closes her eyes, letting her hands do the viewing, he takes the
chance to softly step back and finishes stripping. Motioning back, he takes her
grasping arm and raises it straight into the air, his remaining forelimb going
under her own lingering and untying the small bow to her top. When his gaze
falls upon her nude, golden-brown hills, the young brave's jaw drops faster
than a Goron in water, while the mortal goddess averts her opened eyes to the
side as his cock swells and lengthens in front of her. As he releases his
grips, letting her arm fall to rest, he pushes nearer, climbing onto the bed
and upon her.

"Trevan,"
pipes the female warrior weakly, "Is…is this going to hurt?"

"I…"
he begins, pausing for a time, "Don't know. All I do know is that it feels
good at some point."

Sighing,
she places her hands on the back of his neck and pulls him into a passionate
lock of lips. Though she does not really know what she is doing, neither does
he; by instinct, their tongues savagely encircle one another and run along the
rest of the floor, improving upon the inner dance within their mouths as they
go along. Heat racing through his veins, the virile partner pushes her flat,
spanning her long, toned legs, continually growing physically prepared;
already, sweat is beading upon his body as he sets himself into the best stance
to become one with his partner, in chorus with his steady palms running over
her thighs to her soft bosom, squeezing both gently, but never ceasing in their
kiss. A low moan interrupts them, the young woman's temperature fluctuating
with his caresses, and wraps her legs around his hips, begging him for more.
Biting his lip, he presses the tip in, sending corporal quakes through her
body, guttural purrs escaping her. Deeper he dives, savoring the feeling of her
contractions upon his stiff ember, his counterpart vocalizing loudly of the new
sensations bombarding her, but never asking him to stop. She gasps when he
finally reaches her barrier, her hymen stretches as far as it can go; this is
it. Would anyone find out? What would her father do if he did? How would the
rest of the tribe treat her? Millions of questions her her, making the while
situation unbearable to the point that she can't stand it.

That is,
until her focus shifts to the man affectionately sucking on her lower lip.
Delicately, she strokes his head, trailing her fingers though his silky locks,
calming herself, and surprises them both: she pushes herself down upon his
pride, breaking the wall. Together they gasp and linger in suspense for
minutes, a pop ringing in their ears; the Gerudo's drawn-out moan of ecstasy
brings the couple back to reality and situation at hand. Trevan initiates with
a slow and gentle pace, grunting as he rocks in and out, the Phoenix accenting
her moans with his throaty dins. Growing bored with the tempo, he thrusts
forcefully, digging his nails into her breasts, speeding up and dropping the
tender act. His partner groans, bucking back as powerfully as he is swinging,
grins spreading on both of their lips as they exchange wet butterfly embraces
everywhere they can reach. Her hands incessantly race through his ocean of
hair, ruining any order it had before, and she arches her back to let his
'dagger' slip deeper into her. Breathing is developing into a labor for the two
of them, the edge nearing; resolute to hold out, the Fortress native sways
harder, forcing him to keep up. Faster they ride, approaching their ends, never
wanting or daring to stop.

Suddenly,
the young woman climaxes, screaming his name as her juices spill and seep out
onto the bed. Seconds later, a river of hot seed shoots out of the maturing
knight's submerged shaft, washing into her womb like an opened rapid; so much
chum is released by him that it leaks between her legs as she begins to bleed
from his performance, yet they continue. It feels too good to stop. The flow of
semen keeps them moving, feeds their hunger, gives them energy to stay
entwined; alas, his body is unable to supply enough sperm for them to fuck until
the end of time- they conclude after a few hours. Lazily, the hybrid Hylian
pulls out following a time of softening inside her: after all they have been
through now in this hallowed sanctuary, she is the most warm and comforting
person he can name. To think, she would have enjoyed slaughtering him
yesterday, too. Being careful, for she is aware of how sore they both are, mai maiden rolls him off of her, turning on her own side to wrap her arms around
his tired self and resting her head on his chest. Simple sounds of weary
breathing, their hearts serenely beating, and the silence of the ancient air
soon sends them drifting of to sleep.

 

"You
sure you don't want to come with me, or have me stay here?" questions
Trevan again for the infinite time as he strides out of the Spirit Temple in
full-gear.

His answer
is a sharp slap across the face and the disappearance of his lovely hostess.
Sighing, he raises an ivory ocarina to his lips, starting with a tune that
sings more than words ever can for him; a melody like that of the Lake's
ballad, but with the influence of the solitude of the sand's requiem and the
grief of Kakariko Graveyard's nocturne. It carries through the wasteland,
smoothly, deliberately, up to the beautiful Gerudo sitting in a hand of the mountainous
statue, while tears stream down her cheeks. Finishing his expression, he hangn a n a brief hiatus, then executes the Prelude of Light, and is swept away in a
glitter of radiance before the woman's weeping gaze.

 

 

A/N: So, who wants more? REVIEW!!!

Current A/N: *shudders* God, I need to revise this...