#whatever is happening outside my windows I beg to cease before tomorrow morning

[whisperofthewaves]

it fuken. wimdy

[spitpr1ncess]

BRUISED BODIES CHAPTER 3 LEVI ACKERMAN X READER

                                                   (not my image)

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Gentle rays of sun push through the curtains that protect you from the outside world, they fall like precious feathers across your sleepy face, you rouse from your restful slumber and bring yourself to open the curtains fully, letting mother nature embrace you as you appreciate another day alive. You have an alarm clock but you find the natural light is much more kind to you. You take a deep inhale and breathe life into your lungs, you close your eyes and scrunch them as tight as they will go as you exhale, letting any tension and anxieties about the day evaporate.

You set about making your bed, the beautiful ivory sheets are pulled taught and your duck down pillows plumped, you fold your nightdress and set it down on the chair next to your window. A few years ago, Boss had bought you a record player for your 18th birthday, and it was crisp mornings like this that called for some soft, classical music. You place a record down gently and lift the stylus, as it makes contact your room is filled with ethereal sounds, you hum and dance around slowly, opening your heavy wooden wardrobe to pick something out that will adequately satiate Boss’s hunger.

You hold up a few lingerie sets in front of your nimble body and stare into the mirror, you’ve lost a significant amount of weight the last few months, you notice your chest has all but ceased to exist at this point, Boss will not be happy about that. You decide on a soft cream set, a corset that pinches your waist in and pushes your chest up to its maximum capacity, with beautiful satin panties that you’ve altered yourself. With your weight loss, a lot of the clothes you wear leave you swimming in them, you stitched darts into the front, pulling them in and creating a feminine silhouette that accentuates your barely-there curves.  You pull a pastel pink silk gown over your arms and set about applying a little make up. Pinching your cheeks and lips to draw the blood to them, you give yourself a natural blush. You pull a dark brown pencil through your brows, add white to the waterline of your eye and brush a few strokes of mascara over your lashes, finishing with a little clear gloss on your lips. Last night you’d painted your finger and toenails a soft cream, you add some pearl earrings and the necklace that Boss had given you when he first took you on.

You give yourself the once over in the mirror, making sure to not look too close, you figure that you don’t look as exhausted as you usually do, and for all intents and purposes, are ready. You wait. Its ten minutes to ten, when Boss is due, you sit patiently on the edge of your bed, your heart hammering in your chest, you’d stopped the music a few minutes prior, you know Boss likes silence, and you want to appease him. You roll your pearl earring between your index finger and your thumb anxiously, you hear the gate buzz and Jools answer. It’s a few moments before you hear his heavy footing stalks toward your door, you glare at the golden door knob, it turns, painstakingly slow. He knows you’re apprehensive and he likes to remind you of that. The door finally pushes open, assaulting the empty space between it.

You stare at him, he looks you over. He looks as grimy as ever, he is a short and stout man, with snow white hair and a beard to match, the golden tooth cap that covers one of his front teeth blinds you as he smiles from ear to ear, if you weren’t under so much pressure to please him, you might’ve thrown up at the sight of him.

“There’s my girl, as innocent as ever,” he looks straight through you before turning, closing and ensuring to lock the door. “don’t keep me waiting, stand up.” The instructions are clear as day, you stand on your weak legs, focusing everything you have on not letting Boss see how anxious you are. He steps toward you and reaches out; he draws a line from your bottom lip to your right nipple with his thumb. Your corset protects you from feeling his perverted touch, suddenly you are over the moon with your choice of undergarment. He picks at the hem of your pretty pink gown, he lifts it and you raise your arms instinctively, it’s soon removed and discarded on the floor behind him like a rag.

“I thought you might like this one, Sir.” Your breathing hitches as you await his verdict.

“You are right, little girl.” You feign a smile and give him your best doe-eyed look. He sighs, tired, turned on or frustrated you cannot tell, you wait anxiously before taking your next breath.

“I’m going to inspect you now, I have to make sure you are worth keeping, little Olive.” He moves to stand behind you and begins to unlace your corset. He easily removes it and places it carelessly on the bed. He steps so close you can feel him breathing down your neck, he looks down and observes you, with his hands reaching out he cups a breast in each hand. He places his thumbs and index fingers over your nipples and rolls them roughly, his cold, hard fingers fighting to get a physical reaction, you are not attracted to Boss in the slightest so it is hard to pretend you want him to continue, but if you close your eyes and think hard enough, you can just about picture somebody else, it’s what makes this whole ordeal that little bit more manageable.

“You’ve lost weight.” He observes, you panic.

“I have been working such long days, Sir, it was not on purpose, I promise.” You are apprehensive for what he will say next, to your surprise, he isn’t angered, in fact, he apologises.

“I have obviously not been supplying enough food, I will do better, and you shall have less work.” he continues his silent abuse on your tiny body, pulling your soft, brown hair over your left shoulder and continuing to roll your right nipple. He leans in and inhales your scent, you feel him let out a low growl, you can’t help the physical shudder that courses through you, you worry that you will start convulsing at any second, but Boss must have taken your shuddering as a sign to continue, something in him changes as he kicks your legs apart with his foot. Standing there in just those soft, silk panties, you are vulnerable, alone, completely at his mercy. You suck back a sob and picture all the times you have been at a mans mercy, you pray to a God that you do not even believe in that this will end soon, you are exhausted, completely shattered, absolutely broken. You just want peace.

He reaches his left hand into the front of your panties and feels your softness, “You are a good girl, keeping all tidy for me. I bet you even oiled yourself up this morning in anticipation. You did, didn’t you?” You can sense the dirty excitement in his voice, you nod, meekly in response, you have learnt very quickly that you need to sell whatever sick fantasy Boss is having to keep living comfortably, how you must remain his little bitch, to get your own way, eventually. You close your eyes and let go of any shred of dignity you were still grasping onto, you begin to grind into his hand, silently begging for him to give you something, to make him feel like you need him, he lets out low, perverted, guttural moan.

“You’re desperate for me, aren’t you?” It’s working.

“Please Sir. Touch me, please.” A silent tear breaks loose and wets your cheek, his erection tents and you feel it pressing against the arch of your back, you dare to reach a hand behind to palm him, he moans, without warning, you feel a finger roughly enter you, Boss layers his fingers with expensive and unneeded gold signet rings and although you hate to admit it, the cool of the jewellery feels fucking good. His alien finger curls upwards as your breathing hitches, feeling the golden rings rub against your hole.

“You are as tight as the day I took you as a young girl.”, you cringe at him bringing up your broken childhood as another silent tear falls, you try to ignore his perverted comment as you continue to palm his erection from behind you, he abruptly pulls his finger out as you are violently bent over your bed, he tears your pretty panties down to your knees.

“Put your hands above your head, and don’t move them, I’m going to inspect your holes now.” You feel him as he gapes you wide open, running a finger from your sensitive clit, to your pussy, he circles it, slipping a finger in to the first knuckle, you sense the second about to plunge into you when there is a strong knock at the door.

“I TOLD YOU NOT TO INTERRUPT ME.” You are frightened by how angered the man looming above you sounds. Afamiliar cold voice answers back. “Sir, it really cannot wait. Its E.S.” silence befalls your little room as the tension rises, you’re face down with your hands above your head, a finger in your cunt and your ass spread wide. You’re thankful there is a door separating you from the voice outside.

“Do not move, little girl.” You are frightened by the anger behind his words, you remain where you are, Boss stands up straight and strides to the door opening it wide.

“I will go, you are to take over here, make sure she is worth keeping, I’ll expect extensive feedback on my desk by eight tomorrow.” And with that, you hear his footsteps fade as he paces toward to exit.

-

You suddenly realise that someone is standing at your door and heat flushes to your ears, you jump up snatching what little dignity you could salvage as you speedily pull your panties back up, you protect your chest with your arms. Glaring at you, you meet the same pair of eyes you did yesterday afternoon, you are mortified, you try to say anything but nothing comes out and you stand there with your mouth wide open.

“You’ll catch flies like that, whore.” Levi retorts, this is the last thing you wanted to happen right now, or ever really. You barely have time to think before you instinctively bite back; “You’ll catch a slap if you keep staring at me like that,” you immediately regret saying anything, “what I mea…” you are interrupted as he strides toward you at a sickening pace, roughly grabbing your delicate throat, you whimper in response and a small smirk forms at the corners of your mouth.

“You’re disgusting.” Levi practically spits, this piques your interest.

“Are you going to inspect me, Mr Ackerman?” You should’ve closed your stupid mouth, but something inside of you wants to antagonise him, needs to antagonise him.

“If I had a choice, I’d not step within fifty metres of you.” He doesn’t hesitate for a second and you almost feel bad, but your mouth works faster than your brain.

“But you don’t have a choice, so are you going to?” He releases his tight grip of your neck and spins you so effortlessly you may as well have weighed the same as a stuffed toy, the next thing you know, you are face down in your mattress. With his palm forcing you down, he spits in your face, “you deserve nothing more than a beating followed by a rough fucking, I’ll teach you a few things about respect.” He’s angry, and you’re finally excited, you asked for something new, something different, and here it was, pinning you down and spitting in your face. Your heart swells.

You bait him, your next mistake.

“You think you’ll be able to teach me about respect? I apologise Mr Ackerman, but you are the man who just spat in my face. At least aim for my mouth next tim…” you are cut off as grabs a pillow and forces it over your face.

“I’m sick of the noise coming from you and I can’t stand the sight of you.” Levi stands up straight, letting the pillow go so it sits over your face as he removes his jacket, you hear him fold it and place it tidily on your chair, this humours you and you let out a muffled giggle. Levi pauses to look at you before he chooses to ignore you, giggling and with a pillow over your face, ass up in the air, he almost grabs it before continuing with his before task. He pulls a handkerchief out of his breast pocket and kneels, leaning over you and removes the pillow.

“Open.” His command is simple and you immediately follow, like a little puppy, his jaw tenses as he stuffs the handkerchief in your mouth.

“I do not like you, or even respect you, but I am not a monster, so, as I inspect you, if anything makes you uncomfortable, you are to raise your hand and I will stop. Understand?” You nod meekly and hide the blush rushing to your cheeks, never in your life has someone shown you such kindness, much less someone who so say hated you.

“You’ll use your hands now and spread yourself so I can inspect you now.” He sure wasn’t being unbearable, but he sure wasn’t living up to the beating and rough fucking he had promised you, his energy had changed, he was almost soft, or maybe you’d imagined that. Levi pulls a tight-fitting leather glove out of his pocket and slips his hand into it. He steps up behind you and grasps your little legs, and like you are nothing more than a doll, lifts you up onto the mattress with the rest of your top half.

“Keep your head down but stay on your knees,” he runs his hand over your soft rump and presses the arch of your back down, “well trained pets arch their back; it gives a better view to their owners.” The way he calls you pet makes you quiver with anticipation and you feel the slick building between your thighs. Levi must have sensed it because he pulls them down over your ass, painstakingly slow, you’re sure he’s doing it do you’ll feel them pull away from the slick forming at your embarrassingly eager cunt. Letting them fall to where your knees are planted he moves his face dangerously close to your slick covered hole, you feel his warmth in places you have never had touched before. You feel his finger circle your clit, being gently with his touch, sending shivers up your spine as a result. You dare to lean back into his touch. Men never touch you this way, really its only ever you who has circled your swollen bud with your nimble fingers, chasing your own orgasm, a real orgasm, not like the ones you orchestrate for the male gaze.

You wait for Levi to say something but he doesn’t, instead, he increases the pressure to the circles he is tracing, causing your breath to catch in your throat, you let out the tiniest mewl praying that he doesn’t hear it, he pulls his hand away.

“You are not supposed to be enjoying this, whore.” You let out a defeated sigh. Levi doesn’t move for a few minutes; you blush as you feel his eyes boring into your slick covered holes, you cannot see, but he is contemplative, he is thinking, wondering. You pray that he will say something else. Once again, he does not, he simply circles your swollen lips and probes his leather clad middle finger in. You swear you hear him let out a strained breath, but you’re not sure, your head is spinning and men don’t really take pleasure in stuff like this, do they?

He pushes in again, the furthest knuckle meeting your lips, he curls his finger upwards and rubs it against your walls, you know better than to make a sound, slowly, he pulls his finger out and you cringe at your wetness, your body must cringe physically as well because Levi picks up on it.

“Do you not like the sounds? To me, it is one of the best parts. I like to hear myself playing with the holes I fuck. It is a reminder of how depraved you are, how wet you get being manhandled.” With that he forces both his middle and ring finger into you, he curls up and rubs against your walls again, pulling his fingers back out, thrusting them back inside and repeating it over. You mewl again, but this time he does not stop.

“Listen to yourself, pet.” He continues his internal assault, though usually where you hate the assault left by men, you were enjoying his, you were hungry for it.

“Can you feel it building? Inside of your tiny body? Chase the end for me, I want you to.” Levi leans in and spits on where his fingers continue to scoop out of you like he was deseeding a melon, you squeeze your eyes shut and let the fire build in the pit of your stomach, you cry louder, your breathing speeding up, this pleasing him, Levi spanks you hard, his hands are heavy, and it hurts like hell, you feel your body about to reach its peak, you’re not sure how long you can hold off.

“I’m so… I’m so close… Please.” you try to cry out, but it comes as pathetic muffles through the handkerchief Levi had shoved inside your mouth, with that, he stops dead. In what feels like a nano second, you are flipped onto your back, held to the bed with Levi grasping your neck again. He straddles you, you cannot breathe he fists your throat so tightly you fear you may pass out, but you do not signal for him to stop, not once

His eyes stare into yours, they are full of lust; causing you to wonder if he secretly was enjoying this, that he may even like you, he shakes his head as if he heard your thought, you try your luck and dare to lift your hand and palm through his jet-black hair.

“Do not touch me.” He warns as he pins your hand above your head, his eyes turn back to the cold glare you’ve become quite acquainted with, he stands up and pulls you with the hand that was pinned against the bed.

You are thrown onto the cold wooden floor and your knees echo a cracking sound as they make contact, it stings, like an injured animal you try to crawl away but Levi is hot on your trail, he steps on your leg, just above your ankle, you are pinned, you try hard to wriggle out, but he is not weak. His shoe is freezing cold on your skin, the pain is manageable as he is holding back a little but you can feel a bruise forming already.

He violently pulls his belt undone and yanks his trousers down releasing his sizeable cock from the restraints of his boxers, “You’re making this harder for yourself, just stop wriggling.” You comply, feeling tired now, your little body starting to feel the abuse given to you over the last half hour, Levi’s eyes show a little pity as he flips you back onto your front, you knowingly kneel and push your holes on display for him as he removes his leather glove, with his trousers crumpled around his knees, he lines up behind you, he smacks your bare ass a few more times before collecting your slick on his fingers then coating his straining hardness with it before he palms it himself a few times. He presses the very tip against your hot lips before sheathing himself inside you completely.

Levi is much bigger than the men you usually take and you cry out and cover your own mouth with your hand, he reaches and pulls both of your arms tight behind you, grasping them both with one of his stern hands and the other continues to assault your ass cheeks with hard smacks.

“Don’t silence yourself, I want you to serve me as you would serve any other man, I want to hear you cry out, I want to hear you beg for me, I want to hear you come for me. Do you understand, pet?” You choose to stay silent, instead spitting out the handkerchief.

“I understand that you want me to do my job, I’m not stupid y’know.” A stupid, snide remark from you as he chokes you again, his fingers pressing into your windpipe. You’re sure he will kill you if he presses any harder. Levi slaps you hard, once, twice, thrice, you feel blood pool in your mouth as you realise he has cut your lip, you don’t hesitate as you spit in his face, the blood painting an ugly picture.

He licks his lips and contemplates his next move, he bucks his hips into you hard, you cry out, in pain or in pleasure, you are not sure but he continues to thrust in and out of you, reaching so deep inside you that you feel like breaking, yet you do not raise your hand. He releases the grasp on your arms, and they fall forward to support you as you are fucked, rough.

Levi reaches a hand around your legs and feels for your clit. He begins to rub slow circles again, and you feel it radiate deep inside your little body, he is unrelenting on his mission to make you come.

“Don’t hold back. I can feel you’re getting close.”, he reaches his other hand and pinches your left nipple between his fingers, he twists it hard and you mewl.

“Please don’t stop. Please. Please I want to come.” You’re barely audible as you practically whisper through your moans, the pleasure from Levi is unbearable, as t reaches its peak you see stars, you’ve never come like this before, like he truly cares about your pleasure, your body trembles and you come under his control, you can’t help but hold your breath as he releases his fingers from their current roles, and they grab your hips and fuck you back into him.

Continuing to come undone as Levi chases his own finish he grunts as he unloads ropes of come deep inside you, it’s warm and you welcome the feeling of being filled, suddenly, you are empty and his cock is gone, you feel his seed dripping out of you, your eyes grow heavy and you feel your chest heaving, the last thing you see is Levi scooping you up into his arms, you swear you saw a look of softness across his face, a look of hurt.

-

When you awaken, you are tucked into bed, a large t-shirt swallowing your sore body, you sit up and your head spins, it’s is dark outside and there is a glass of water and a small note on your bedside table, you sip from the glass and apprehensively thumb the note.

“I’m sorry” it reads. Levi. You cringe as you remember begging him for your orgasm. You’re pulled from your thoughts as your door quietly opens and Jools enters.

“Are you okay Olive?” he sounds genuinely concerned, “you’re covered in bruises… did he hurt you?” He looks away, clearly uncomfortable, again, you cringe as you recall the experience.

“I am okay Jools, I promise. How did I get to bed?” You expect Jools to say that he came and rescued you, but he doesn’t, instead he hesitates before beginning, “Levi… He, well, he bathed you, he applied creams, washed your hair, and he put you into bed. He hung around for a few hours, y’know. In case you awoke. Then he asked for some paper, wrote you a note and left.” You smile at that knowledge, regardless of what the note says, you feel that he wants to see you again.

“What did the note say?” Jools questions.

“Nothing important, just an apology, its weird”.

“Oh. Okay. If he really hurt you, you are to tell me. It is not usual for Levi to… Engage with women like he did with you. His behaviour was strange I don’t trust him”.

You look at Jools, he reaches out to touch your face, it aches, you remember the blows to your face, you are probably bruised there, too. “I am fine Jools, I was just doing my job, I am better for it, considering I didn’t have to engage with Boss!” You feign a smile, though Jools can see its fake, he trusts you enough to talk to him when you are ready.

“You had better go to bed then, Levi paid off your afternoon caller, by the way, I’m not sure about him, so be careful, please.” He turns and leaves, the door closes and you lay your heavy head back on your pillows, a curious shadow lurks by your window, but you miss it, falling into a deep slumber.

Just some peeping Tom, probably.

[lady-impa]

Hi :) May I ask about angst 13 + Zelimpa for the prompt list? I love your writing by the way (Malice Impa is just 10/10)

thank you sm! this one gave me some trouble, ngl, and I originally was going to make this malice au related, but then this idea came to me at like 3 in the morning. so I apologize if it makes absolutely no sense, lol, but I hope that you enjoy it anyway! xx

It is a good day, today, Zelda thinks, turning the relic over between her hands.

Not only has a dear friend returned from an extensive but personal sojourn, but her father’s kingly obligations have taken his attention away from hers. Temporarily free from his crushing scrutiny, Zelda is able to study the ancient relic as she pleases, and momentarily cast aside the weight of the world upon her shoulders. 

Tomorrow, they will leave for Zora’s Domain.

Today, Zelda will delve into her research that has been pushed away for far too long, and enjoy what she can. The relic means a great deal to her, after all, and she has been dying to properly analyze it once more. Gifted with such an abundance of time, Zelda wastes not a second of it. Perhaps later she would venture to the Royal Tech Lab, and see what Purah or Robbie have to say about it; it would be good to get a second opinion on what she is theorizing.

Somewhere behind her, her company lets out a sigh. 

“Am I boring you?” Zelda asks, a teasing lilt to her tone.

“Never, Your Highness,” they say instantly, and Zelda casts a cursory glance over her shoulder. From the alcove of her study, Impa is watching her, a strange look in her eyes and a small grin on her face. “I was just thinking that my sister’s influence might be rubbing off on you.” 

Zelda raises a brow and attempts to suppress a grin. “I’m not sure how I should take that,” she admits. 

Impa only laughs, carefree. It is a beautiful sound that Zelda privately cherishes. “Take it as you will.”

There is something oddly familiar in the picture of Impa there, comfortable and at home in Zelda’s study with her, in a way that she cannot place, and the words that leave her are words she is sure that she may have heard before. For a split second, Zelda wonders why this is; why this all feels like it has happened once already, and then stops wondering at all. No use in trying to make sense of it.

Some things just were. 

“Have you had any breakthroughs?” Impa asks, nodding her chin to the relic on Zelda’s desk, beside a plethora of frankly unreadable notes. 

Zelda follows her gaze, a small knot of nerves bundled in her belly. “I believe so,” she tells her. “I won’t bore you with all the details, however. I know you aren’t very partial to science like your sister is.” 

Impa slides from her perch with an effortless quiet and approaches, stopping just short of Zelda’s side. She is close enough that her shoulder nearly touches Zelda’s, but doesn’t. Impa is very well aware of boundaries that she must not cross but Zelda, not for the first time, wishes that she would, just once. “So I’m not the biggest fan of science,” she says as she lifts a shoulder in an easy shrug. “But I am always interested in whatever you have to say, Princess.”

Zelda pauses, and let’s the words sink in. They thrill her, and send a soft hum through her veins, but...There is no mistaking, these are words Impa has said once already, and Zelda cannot let it go. She remembers hearing them for the first time, and how they delighted her, as simple as they were. She turns to face Impa, who glances up from Zelda’s incoherent notes to meet her gaze with a questioning furrow of her brow. 

“I...I feel like this has all happened before,” Zelda confesses quietly, reaching to twirl a strand of Impa’s hair around her index finger almost absentmindedly. Impa does not move, as still as marble. “Impa, how can that be?”

A long moment passes, and the silence stretches on. Impa simply watches her, expression smoothing into something unreadable as she studies the planes of Zelda’s face. Zelda almost expects her to come up with some witty quip that perhaps she was more like Purah than she thought, or that perhaps the many sleepless nights were catching up on her. Instead, Impa says nothing. Perhaps she needn’t say anything at all. Perhaps her silence is answer enough. 

“This is all in my head,” Zelda concludes aloud, her eyes fleeting between Impa’s. This close up, she can see the freckles of amber within the dark red irises. She can feel the warmth of Impa’s skin on hers, the soft texture of her hair between her fingers. The detail is all so inexplicably real, as vivid as anything Zelda has ever known, and yet… “It’s all happening in my head. Isn’t it?”

Impa smiles at her, and maybe it is a little sad. “I am sorry, Princess,” is all she says.

“You aren’t real,” Zelda breathes, and pulls her trembling hand away in disbelief. “You’re just a memory.”

“A dream,” Impa corrects gently. “You were right, Princess. This has all happened once already, a very long time ago.”

Zelda takes a step back and Impa allows her the space to breathe, panic blossoming in her chest. Black clouds the edges of her vision, distorting her study into a haze. Suddenly, everything feels wrong. Disturbed. The feeling creeps through Zelda’s veins, up the ridges of her spine. She glances around her; the notes, the relic, the patches of sunlight from the study’s windows. Impa, and the sympathetic expression on her face. 

She stares down at her hands. Runs her fingers over her skin. She feels real. She feels solid. 

Somehow, she is not. 

“Have…” Zelda clears her throat, trying to process it all and failing. “Have we been through this, before? Have I ever realized…?”

“I’m sorry,” Impa says again, confirming her suspicions. 

Zelda can’t comprehend it. It makes her head spin, and she reaches up to grab the side of it, digging her fingernails into her hair. She has no memory of ever reliving this moment - and yet, somehow, she has. Time and time again, for who knows how long, tucked away in old memories.

Ganon, she thinks abruptly, and everything comes to the surface the way water boils: slowly, and then all at once. 

Impa’s hand hovers over hers, and soon she is gently untangling Zelda’s fingers from her hair. Her touch is welcome, tethering her there, drawing her from her spiraling thoughts. She is a figment, she knows this now, but this is how Zelda remembers Impa: warm, a source of comfort and companionship, and always there.

“Close your eyes, Zelda,” Impa almost coos at her, and Zelda is briefly mystified at the way her name sounds coming from Impa’s pretty mouth. It has been a long, long time since she’s heard Impa call her by her name, without any of the necessary titles. Impa leans to press a gentle kiss to Zelda’s cheek, then the corner of her mouth and then the center, and Zelda allows her eyes to close at last, wrapping her arms around Impa’s neck. She desperately wants to stay; wants to stay in the solidness and safety of Impa’s arms, soak up her warmth, kiss her lips again and again.

But none of it is real. It is just a hallucination.

A response to the ongoing trauma of being trapped in the jaws of evil. 

Even still - right now, it is the only thing she has.

Their lips part as Impa pulls away, and the gap between them feels astronomical. “The Hero will awaken soon,” she says, and her voice sounds distant, her touch fading. Zelda opens her eyes in a panic only to see Impa frowning at her, exactly where she had been moments ago. “He is going to need your help, Zelda.”

“I don’t want to leave you,” Zelda admits through the lump in her throat. “I want to stay, Impa. I want to stay.”

“We will meet again one day. I swear it,” Impa tells her softly, fingertips at her cheek, and Zelda suddenly remembers standing outside the gates and ruins of Hyrule Castle, the Goddess’ power thrumming in her veins, calming the nerves writhing in her chest. She remembers Impa escorting her there, and to the Lost Woods, because she would not leave her alone even if it killed her. She remembers how Impa had pleaded for her not to go, that they would find another way, and how mystifying it had all been because - Impa never begged, never cried, not once, the entire time Zelda has known her. But she had cried for her. 

We will meet again.

These were the last words Impa has ever spoken to her. 

She has no reason not to trust them.

Zelda closes her eyes to the sound of Impa’s voice, and ceases to dream of anything at all.

[the-war-between-our-love]

Chapter One: The Marriage from Hell. (TWBoL)

The younger Prince of Asgard held a dark scowl across his features; it had been there since he heard the news. He wasn’t happy about anything that was happening, and he was going to give the King a piece of his mind.

He stormed down the hallways of the palace, causing servants to move out of his way when they took notice of the dark aurora surrounding him. He was going to the throne room where his so-called-father sat in his seat made of gold.

Following behind him was the eldest brother, looking to him in worry that Loki might do something as reckless as level the entire land of Asgard to the ground. It’s not the first time that Thor followed him like a small puppy when Odin has done something to warrant this sort of behavior.

“Brother, please. You need to calm down before you enter. Whatever you say may make things worse than they already are.” Thor reasoned softly.

“Don’t. Do not tell me to call down, Dear Brother. What he is doing is far viler than even I thought he was capable of.” Loki swirled around to face Thor, the flaps of his clothing twirling with him. He’d look graceful if it wasn’t for the venomous look that painted his features in a darkened expression. “You are not the one who is being forced into a marriage.” He countered harshly before turning back to rip open the door to the Throne room.

“Well, if it isn’t my boys,” Odin held a warm smile on his face that seemed to make the rage inside of Loki burn brighter than before.

“I am not your son. I have never been, nor will I ever be. You cannot sell me out for marriage as a peace treaty! I won’t allow this!” Loki seethed, gripping his fists as he storms closer to Odin who lost the look of delight from his face.

“If I do not, then war will happen. You don’t get a choice in this.” Odin countered with a look of anger slowly replacing what was once happy.

“That is of no concern of mine, you old fool.” Loki crossed his arms. “War or not, I am no jester for your amusement. I certainly will not be a pawn in this disgracefulness.” He spat.

“As far as they know, you are mine. Consider this your punishment as well for the stunt you pulled back on Midgard. I allowed you back into my home because Thor begged me too. This is what is happening.” Odin slammed his staff onto the ground as if it was settled, but not for Loki it wasn’t.

“You cannot make me. I will not marry some babe that you decided to punish me with. I’d rather be damned!” Loki growled out.

“As I stated earlier, you have not choice in this matter. She is to be here tomorrow, which you will be married before mid-morning.” He nods as Loki opens his mouth to resort. “Not another word from you, Trickster. It’s decided.” He clenched his fist when Loki huffed out of anger.

The young prince glared daggers to Odin who sat high above him on the throne. A man who always towered over him, he was no father, he would never be. Sadly, at this moment, Odin was right. He is only a prince which means whoever Odin decides to marry him to, is who he will be married to.

Loki knew that he had lost, the anger didn’t leave him as he turned around and stormed back out the throne room. This sense of dread threatened to consume him in the crashing waves that would send him under. He continued to walk down the halls, causing the servants to once again part ways once they saw the anger even harder than before.

And just like before, Thor was once again trailing along behind Loki before he finally dared himself to place a hand onto his brother’s shoulder. He turned Loki to face him, placing both hands onto his shoulders now to cage him in.

“Brother, please--” Thor was cut off as Loki swatted his hands away.

“Leave. Me. Alone.” He stepped closer with each word, almost nose to nose with Thor despite being shorter.

However, the Gods seemed to love damning Loki even further as Thor’s stubbornness kicked in and would not allow Loki to sulk in his room alone.

“You never know. You may desire this woman when it comes down to it.” Thor offers with a soft smile, causing Loki to snort bitterly with a roll of his eyes.

“Odin said that I was merely marrying this woman. He never said I had to love her or even care for her.” Loki comments drily as Thor’s jaw clenched.

“Then there is no point in this marriage.” He countered sharply when suddenly Loki’s hand was patting his chest as he leans closer.

“Now you’re understanding it.” Loki grins drily before turning around and going back to his room, slamming the door shut.

That night, Loki refused to eat anything. He had lost his appetite thanks to Odin, and he didn’t want to even be in the presence of Odin. He sat alone in his room, the coldness of the night didn’t bother his skin as it did to the others. He was staring at the ceiling with a blank expression before hatred began to plague his heart like before.

“Bastard.” He growled more to himself than who it was meant for. “How can I let this happen?” He questioned before suddenly the moon’s light grew brighter, causing his gaze to flicker outside.

He let out a small sight, running his fingers through his hair to push it away from the defeated look on his face. He thought about what tomorrow will bring, how he was only informed mere hours ago about this, and now soon he will be married.

He pushed the covers off him before standing up and going over to the window. The thought of his mother plagued his mind; she would never allow this to happen, but sadly she was no longer here. Now, whatever Odin decided, it was law whether it was at the cost of others or not. His heart still ached to have her arms enveloping him, blocking him away from the world and destruction.

To his surprise, tears dripped down his face, causing his eyes to widen at the realization that he was breaking apart. His hand slowly lifted, swiping away at the salted liquid as it cascaded down his face. He swallowed down the lump forming in his throat, forcing back the sob that burned and clawed up his chest.

There was a gentle wrap that made his demeanor immediately throw away any trace of him in tears. He glanced towards the door as he slowly opened to reveal a small maiden glancing into the room with a timid look. She made eye contact with him for just a moment before flickering her gaze to the floor.

“My Lord, are you going to eat anything, tonight? Is there anything I can make for you?” She asked quietly, making Loki’s tense shoulders drop slightly.

“No, I shall be fine for the evening. Thank you.” He whispered before turning his back towards the window once more. His voice was still strained from holding back the burning emotions that flooded his torso and traveled up his spine to the base of his skull.

The door shut with a soft click, causing Loki to let out a shaky sigh of relief to be once again alone. His eyelids grew heavy from the weight that rested on his shoulders, making his legs shake from it all. He fought sleep for another hour, daring himself not to close his eyes for then his life as he knew it would cease to exist.

No matter how hard he tried; soon he was laying on his bed once more as he stared into the abyss of nothing. He didn’t wish to wake if he did sleep, didn’t want tomorrow to come, but sadly fates as it is, sleep had claimed him without a second thought. His body slowly relaxed against the sheets in a blissful state of unconsciousness.

Morning came, a light flickered through the darkened curtains must to Loki’s dismay. He felt someone standing next to his bed as his blurry gaze readjusted to see his brother standing beside him with a tray in his hands. He set it down on the table next to Loki’s bed before Loki finally took notice of the anger in his eyes.

“You never came for dinner last night.” He pointed out in a stern tone as if Loki had forgotten to come down or something.

“I wasn’t hungry.” He huffed, sitting up when Thor thumped down at the edge of the bed.

“Well, you are told to eat now. The Princess of Bevollion will be here soon.” He comments quietly, watching Loki grit his teeth. “Please, for me.” He begged, offering the tray to Loki who sighed and took it from him.

He ate slowly, not wanting to upset his stomach further considering all the knots that laid within them. He refused to talk with Thor despite him trying to make conversation. Sometimes Loki loved Thor, even despite all the hardships he’s faced just to be noticed… But Today, Loki wanted nothing to do with anyone related to Odin or the bastard himself.

After eating, Thor left so Loki could get cleaned up and dressed for the wedding. There had been an outfit draped over one of the chairs for him to wear. Just as he finished the last tie of his gown, there was a knock at the door before it creaked open.

“My Lord, you are requested in the Throne room.” The same young woman from last night comments quietly. She took notice of the emotionless expression on the young Prince’s face as he stared into the mirror.

“So be it.” He whispered to himself before following the young maiden who offered him a weary smile.

“She is quite beautiful, My Lord.” She offers, trying to lighten the mood.

“I do not care. Beauty or not. This is for peace. Nothing more.” He hissed as she flinched before opening the doors to the Throne room.

The entire place had been decorated in gold and silver for this wondrous occasion. If Loki didn’t dread all of this, for a moment, he thought it all looked beautiful. How ironic that the one time this place seemed majestic to him was the day that life reared itself ugly head up with a wicked grin?

Loki slowly made his way towards the Throne, glancing at Thor who offered a soft smile while Odin held a hardened expression.

“Glad to see you are here,” Odin comments quietly as Loki rolled his eyes.

That’s when Loki finally noticed the woman who had a veil covering her face. He watched as two women slowly peeled back to reveal her face, causing Loki’s eyes to widen for a moment.

She was… beautiful in every sense of the word.

Everything about her from her piercing yet playful eyes to the gorgeous shade that colored her lips. The gown she wore had been woven with the most beautiful patterns, that seemed to make her look like perfection in human form.

This couldn’t be the woman he was to marry for peace. He was unable to take his eyes off her and it seems she could not do the same. He stepped closer to her as Odin gestured to her with a smirk of delight at Loki’s reaction.

“Loki, I am pleased for you to meet (Y/N) of Bevollion. She is the daughter of Ares. She is the one who you are being wedded to.” He explains as Loki looked speechless by such a beautiful creature who stood before him.

For once, he did not wish for war, and if somehow this marriage didn’t work, he would be once again blamed for the consequences. It didn’t matter that he was forced into this marriage, it only mattered that he was stopping a war. His mind began to race with too many thought, too many actions, none of which would end well for anyone, more specifically him.

No, he would not fall for her, despite her beauty. She wasn’t of Asgardian descent and he refused mainly because he was still being forced into all of this. Yet, he couldn’t help but notice the gentleness of her expression, looking lost, terrified even. It made him want to keep her safe and make sure nothing ever made her feel this way again.

He watched her every movement, studying her to see how she ticked and how she carried herself. He realized he was getting lost in her eyes, feeling his entire foundation crack beneath him.

That’s when Odin cleared his throat and stood up. Loki felt everything crashing down onto him, suddenly the warmth he once felt turned into ice within him. Despite her beauty, he didn’t want to marry her, he didn’t want this. He wanted to fight back, but Odin began the ceremony that would betroth (Y/N) and Loki together.

Loki felt a hot knife begin to shove its way down his throat, forcing him to swallow down the ache that was coating the back of his trachea. The ring he was handed felt cold and heavy in his hand as he took her hand into his own. He finally noticed the tears that there glittering in her eyes as she allowed the ring to be placed onto her finger and vice verse.

His ring felt even colder than his skin.

Their expressions of dismay mirrored each other, she didn’t want this as much as he did. He could see it in her eyes as she flickered her gaze from Odin to Loki for a moment before looking to the floor. Despite all of this, there was nothing either of them could do. They were wedded.

“I now pronounce you husband and wife.” Odin smiles, “You may kiss her now.” He comments to Loki who felt bile rise in his throat.

There was nothing good about this situation for the two of them, they didn’t know anything about the other. They’ve never heard each others’ voices, nor did they know how the other would act. They just woke up and were forced into the marriage at the break of now with no will to fight back against this.

Their marriage was a treaty and nothing more.

He placed his hand onto her cheek, watching her eyes fluttered at the tender touch. Soon, he leaned forward, holding his breath as their lips brushed against each other. They both tense before kissing as they sealed their fate as one.

Author’s Note: I’ve decided to revise it, a lot of the story might stay the same, I haven’t decided just yet. But I hope you enjoy this nonetheless.