*Originally posted to Tumblr, set years after Hyrule Warriors - starring the same grizzled, older Link from "Rejuvenation" and Impa as his forever-frustrated Superior Officer.


Impa buried the urge to rub her temples. Even if the trumpets and well wishers were giving her a pounding headache, she didn't trust herself to uncross her arms from her chest. If she did that, she may just reel back and punch the next person who bowed and said "Congratulations!" to her.

What. A. Crock. Congratulate what? That Zelda, who would always be her precious little maiden, was now married to some little prick from across the seas? Oh yes – let's celebrate that one.

Zelda had proven herself stronger than her fierce attendant. She had conducted herself with grace, civility and above all, an air of royalty.

"A marriage of convenience," she had confessed, while remaining indifferent to the entire affair. "To strengthen the kingdoms and diffuse any future threat of their Navy if they decide we're worth the effort." Impa had argued, and then she railed, but Zelda's mind was made up. She acted, as she had for years now, with the interest of Hyrule in mind.

Thank Hylia that Zelda was already ruling Queen. Impa had to make do with that small blessing, knowing that Prince… whatever his name, wouldn't be sitting in the throne anytime soon. Just looking at him made her Sheikah blood boil a little, and she dug her hands tighter into the muscles of her own arms.

He was a scrawny looking thing, with an audacious crown perched atop his head, grinning toothily at everyone and asking them all to start remembering him (fondly) as their Lord. He didn't impress her. Not as a ruler, a fighter, or even a person. That was her personal, private opinion.

"Scrappy little cunt." And then there was Link's opinion, which was discreetly growled into her ear while he nodded at the newly married couple. Already Impa could detect the faint scent of wine coming from him.

"Sir Link," she regarded stiffly, her arms tightening. She did not need this. Not on top of having to watch her surrogate daughter marry such an inferior man. Not Link, who over the years had become as grizzled and bitter as every other Knight before him. Who she had ordered, emphatically, to shave his scruffy facial hair.

He had not.

"Lose your razor, did you?" He actually chuckled at that, shoulders rising up and down beneath his formal tunic while he scratched his bristly cheek.

"I trimmed," he argued.
"Not what I asked for."
"Haven't you heard? Compromises are in fashion these days."And the former hero gazed past her towards the new couple, eyes narrowing while he brought a goblet to his lips and swallowed.

She could forgive him the frustration, if nothing else. Impa shook her head, ruefully.

"I pray our new Prince never meets you," she whispered harshly, and he had the audacity to laugh at that. Not loud, for he never had learned proper speech therapy, but a rough rumble that made his jaw tighten.

"Too late," he said with mirth. "He won't be using much of his right hand on his honeymoon."

Immediately, Impa could picture the entire affair. Zelda introducing her best Knight, Sir Link, the most scarred and rugged man in the Kingdom. And the Prince would have immediately been intimidated, but he'd have to shake the hand of the land's champion because etiquette demanded it. And Link probably would have broken at least a finger, just to see if he'd yell from pain.

"You're impossible," she said, even if she was privately enjoying the idea of him intimidating the ruler of their newest neighbour. As the Royal Attendant, Impa had a standard to maintain. As Link's only Superior Officer, she expected he show the same amount of respect as she did. But he didn't, and even if she had to publicly chastise him for it, there had been many times when she was grateful and envious for his freedom to speak his mind.

"The Queen gave me the week off, Ma'am," he said, voice rough but not unkind. "So at most you can ask me nicely not to scare the little prick."

"Firstly," she said, her tone flat but her lips curling into a cold smile. "You have already scared the Prince." He had the hide to nod. "And secondly, I don't ask nicely – I let my weapon do the talking."

Sir Link grinned at that, pointing a worn finger towards her while raising his goblet.
"And that is why I respect you, Ma'am," he said playfully, before downing the cup and smacking his lips. "Care for one?"

"I may need it," she relented, knowing she wouldn't be rid of him any time soon. But she was both surprised and impressed that instead of hailing an attendant, he pulled a flask from his hip and tipped it into the cup before raising it in toast.
He always was prepared, really.

"What in Din's name is this?" she frowned, sniffing the offered liquid as he drank from the flask.

"I forget, but it's good," he said after swallowing.

"Give me one good reason why I should drink this," she demanded, and he held two rough fingers up.

"Because you need it, and because I crushed Prince Cunt's hand."

Impa swallowed the drink in one, feeling it burn down her throat and giving his alcohol tolerance some begrudging respect.

"How afraid of you is he?"
"Then I order you to stay here and keep him away from me for the night."
Link's brow quirked, his whiskered mouth frowning.

"You think he'll try and cop a feel?"
"I think I may kill him."

Sir Link chuckled, shaking his head and tipping the flask up again.
"I don't say this often," he said. "But you're the only person I respect."
"Shut up, Link."

Impa kicked her door open, teeth dragging down his worn and bristly lip, before shoving him through and slamming it closed behind her. Even mildly intoxicated, Link managed to avoid the stone floor and fell into her chair instead. Before his vision stopped swimming he grabbed her arm and yanked her forward, roughly kissing her again.

Her breath was hot and heavy with the scent of ale, her powerful legs straddling his as their tongues duelled one another. Everything about her was fierce – thin lips moving over his in a dominating way while she ground her hips down against him, feeling his arousal flat against his navel. She was a proud Sheikah warrior and his Superior Officer, and she wasn't about to let this uppity Knight win so easily.

And then there was Link – a once proud hero and now the most rugged and revered Sir in the Kingdom. And he didn't much feel like letting her lord her superiority over him. After wrapping his fist in her braid he tugged her head back before attacking her neck. There was always one muscle that twitched whenever she yelled at him, and he was determined to suck the hell out of it, tasting her salty skin and feeling her nails scratch down his back. That was much better – her throaty moan was nicer than her cold tone, he decided, teeth sinking into her skin while her hips rolled against his dick.

"If you even think of stopping, I'll have you thrown in the dungeon," she moaned out, her powerful arms crossing over her chest before she tore her formal blouse open, ripping at her bindings until her modest breasts were free.

"Oh, shut the fuck up, Ma'am," he sassed back, before his worn hands cupped her exposed tits and he licked up between them, tongue roughly teasing her skin. Impa's head rolled back, exposing her wet and bruised neck while she arched her chest against his mouth.

"You are the most annoying," she breathed. "irritable, bitter man I've ever known." Her fingers spread through his hair, messy and dirty blonde, before she harshly pulled him down against her nipple. "Now bite."

He did. His teeth chomped down on the hardened bud and she mewled. It was odd hearing such a satisfied noise coming from her stern lips, even with alcohol loosening her up. It was more odd to hear her hum for more in a satisfied, relieved voice.

"More, or I'll return the favour," she pleaded, and Link's hands found her shoulders and pushed her back. She sat there, his Superior Officer, breasts wet and pink and giving him an annoyed and confused look, before he pulled the formal tunic up and off his head.

Impa didn't wait before spreading her fingers against his chest, fingers tracing a multitude of pale scars that criss-crossed his skin.

"So show me," he dared her. Even if he wasn't gifted with feeling some pleasure from having his chest stimulated, he wasn't about to let her relax and be lavished just yet. But what was more surprising was she actually did it, wasting no time in clamping her mouth on one of his nipples and sucking.

Oh, wow, he thought, until her teeth pinched him and he writhed. He could actually feel her lips spread into a triumphant smirk.

"As usual," she began, her hand palming and stimulating her forgotten breast while she gave him a challenging look. "I have to show you how it's done properly." Link was too busy hissing to glare back at her.

"I swear," he ground out between his teeth. "if you were nicer I'd use my tongue to finish you off, but I like keeping my ears." Impa actually laughed at that, leaning back on his lap and regarding him coolly, face flushed and chest bare.

"If I thought you were good with your tongue, I'd just make you," she shot back, before she ran a firm, flat hand against the hardened bulge in his pants. "You'll just have to use your weapon, instead."

Impa kneeled back off of his lap, swaying just a little before she smartly shimmied out of her pants. "Get up," she ordered. "I'm not having you stain my chair." He was too distracted at first, watching her long, firm legs appear, followed with the lips of sex, already wet with arousal and topped with snowy curls. He shook his head, licking his lips and rising from her chair.

"You're the one with wet thighs," he fired back, pushing his trousers down and stepping out of them. When he turned around, she was already languishing on her bed, relaxed and watching him.

"And you're on top," she said, matter-of-factly. "So do it nice and deep if you don't want a reprimand."

Impa's legs were hanging over the edge, one of them rising up to butt against his chest as he stood in front of her bed. Her toes immediately dug into his scarred skin while he looked down at her, watching her eyes dance with mirth and challenges and her lips curl into a smirk. Funny how his annoying, strict Superior could manage to be fun and sexy, too. Link shook his head, scratching his whiskered cheek while stroking her leg.

"If you wanted me that much, you could have just tried to order me," he challenged, lifting her ankle to nip at her heel while she rolled her eyes.

"Shut up and fuck me," she snapped, reaching between her legs and parting her puffy, slick lips. "It won't bite," she added with a tease.

Link would have been content to tease her awhile, holding his stiff cock and brushing it across her hardened clit. Instead, he dropped her heel on his shoulder and swiftly entered her, gliding inside slippery, hot flesh until his balls met her ass. The Sheikah's hips rose up while her face warped into a look of pleasure.

"About time you shut up," he growled, pressing a rough thumb against her wet clit and stroking. She was hot and velvety soft, and it was almost impossible to think this strict woman felt so good to be buried inside of. Without warning, her other leg swung up and against his chest, strong and flexible, until he felt both of her feet hooking behind his head. She bit her lip and grinned up at him, somewhere between victory and satisfaction.

"If you're not the best fuck I've ever had, I'll make your life a living hell," she promised him, her hands palming her breast and plucking at her nipples. Link had never been so fond of Impa in his life.

"Your pussy will miss me when I'm gone," he dared her, rolling his hips and sliding inches out of her before driving back inside.
"Let your cock to do the talking."

Frustrated and tipsy, they managed to surprise each other that night. Impa, the strict Royal Attendant, had a library worth of dirty words that she liked to indulge in. When his hands pinned her legs and he sucked the skin of her ankle, she didn't just curse over and over, she was creative, promising him everything from a pay rise to terrible torture if he stopped.

And Link, the jaded, rough Knight who was both her greatest fighter and greatest headache, actually wasn't all boast. Whether it was stamina, eagerness or a lack of modesty, he did everything, even little kinks and curiosities she hadn't indulged in for years. When his finger gently probed her ass, or his teeth dragged across one of her toes, she wished he wasn't such a pain in the ass. She could've gotten used to this treatment.

And she would never say how much she would appreciate it when his hips crashed against hers and he began to twitch, and he actually warned her he was close and ask if she needed him to stop. She never pegged him as the sort to offer the choice. But it didn't matter – Impa was too far indulged in lust to make him withdraw his thick length, and privately, she was safe from pregnancy.

"Just fill me up," she hissed, wrapping her legs tightly around his hips. She had used every technique she knew not to reveal that she had already climaxed twice since they started. But Link, always the open book, didn't know or care about such subtlety, burying himself inside her and moaning out as he came.

She would never, ever admit that to feel his thick come inside was actually pleasurable to her. Nor would she remind him that when he collapsed against her, exhausted and light headed, she possessively claimed his lips again until they both passed out.

The next morning was somewhere between awkward and painful. Not from their activities – they were both hardened warriors, flexible and exercised. No – it was alcohol and mortification, their heads splitting from hangovers and the growing realisation that they had gone that far. They had had dirty, rough sex with the individual who made their lives that much harder already.

What was worse was that they had to admit – it was the best they ever had.

"You're drunk more than me," she hissed, hand clutching her head. "Tell me you have something for the headache." 'And something to wipe my memory,' she thought. Link didn't move from where he lay, on his chest with his head buried into her pillow. She tried to not focus on the crisscrossed scars that ran his broad back, and how, if she were honest, it was still quite handsome.

"Back pocket," he croaked, pointing towards where his belt had fallen the night before. Buck naked and on wobbly legs, Impa padded along the stones to find a pair of potions, swallowing one down in an instant. She sat back on her mattress, one leg tucked up underneath her as she let him have the other phial. She was starting notice just how many bites and marks covered her body, from her breasts to her toes, even.

"We missed wishing them off," she mused, wondering where in the countryside Queen Zelda was now that she began her formal honeymoon. Link made a noise, some indistinguishable thing, as he swallowed the potion down and rubbed his trimmed beard.

"I crushed his hand," he said, as if finally realising what he had down. Understanding, but not regretful. He'd never change, she realised with mirth.

"The Palace will be quiet the next few days," she said, mostly to herself. She didn't feel like facing the outside world just yet. Even Link's grizzled presence was more acceptable. At least he didn't have the crass to bring it all up again – something she was grateful for. For all his rough edges and bitter outlooks, he wasn't crude at least.

"We have the week off," he reminded her. "Queen's orders."
"You're a Knight, and I'm the Royal Attendant. We don't get days off," she said. But Link only rolled over, stretching out and she tried not to stare too much at his nude form.

"Impa," he said, voice scratchy. It usually was in the mornings. "If there's one thing I've learned, it's there's nothing to be gained in being noble. Just take some time off and be you."
That's the problem – she didn't really know how to be anyone but the Royal Attendant. She relaxed against her pillow, bare bottom against the downy cushion while she bit her lip and thought to herself.

"Did you want me to go?" he asked, quietly. She should have said yes. Should have been quick to remind him that she was his Superior and he shouldn't get comfortable. But the way he spoke, she remembered just how much he himself had lost over the years.

Last night she lost her daughter, but he would have said goodbye to his first love.
"If you can keep quiet, you can stay," she said instead, drifting her fingers down to trace a long scar over his chest. "I mean it. Shut up." The skin rumbled under her touch as he chuckled.

"I knew you just wanted me to focus on other things."
"Goddess, I miss the days when you wouldn't say two words."
He turned away from her, relaxing against the pillow and humming.
"If you're lucky, you'll find out just how talented I am with my mouth," he sassed. Impa rolled her eyes. She was still his Superior, and it wouldn't do for this abrasive Knight to get comfortable.

She'd just order him to do it later on, she mused.