Fan Fiction ❯ Sacred Water ❯ Sacred Water ( One-Shot )

In the Forest they'd made him a pariah, and he'd thought nothing could be worse, but now he held the Master Sword in his sheath and Sheik looked at him as The Hero, The Hero, The Hero.

And give me the courage not to think about it, Link would say to Farore at night, but that didn't make the overwhelming fear go away. It was as much a part of his days as the annoyance of Navi's sendings and cold porridge and the sore ache in his muscles after a day riding across the endless Hylian plain.

He had thought he'd known what it meant to be afraid, but he'd learned better in the days and weeks and months since he'd pulled the holy Master Sword from its pedestal. Two months he had traveled across this corrupted Hyrule, and every day he had prepared to die.

Fear...

Link's boots clopped noisily against the Water Temple's submerged floor as he sought the lair of its Boss.

Link, Navi sent then, her voice a tired sigh against the walls of his skull. He felt her tiny hands beneath his blue cap, massaging his scalp. Smell nice.

"Not right now," Link said impatiently, sure that he didn't smell nice after a day walking and swimming through a temple. His head ached, but he didn't have time to think about it now. This room slanted upward; he saw with a sinking heart that razor traps guarded the way forward. He didn't see any longshot posts anywhere, to his chagrin, but he was too tired to stand in the inches of dirty water that had collected here, at the bottom of the slope, and try to puzzle this out. His Kokiri Boots had been soft and fine and waterproof when he'd started, but days of swimming in the water had chilled his very bones.

He touched the oily front of his Zora Tunic and suddenly wished for Ruto. Ruto would be helpful now, even though she dreamed that the two of them were pledged to each other. Wouldn't she be able to easily make this ascent? Or at least tell him how to do it? Why was his mind so cloudy with fear? He'd fought and defeated Bosses before.

Roll up the ramp, Navi sent to him, breaking his mind's stranglehold on dwelling on dread and fear and preparing to die. Link gave a start and straightened, gazing around for his partner and finding the winking light floating lazily above the first razor trap. It was the most uncryptic thing he'd ever heard her send and he wasn't sure he'd heard her correctly.

"What?"

Roll up the ramp, Navi repeated in the patient, even tone of someone speaking to a small child. In the tone that had always annoyed Link, though Navi didn't know that. But Link wondered if she was really ignorant of that fact, sometimes. She seemed to know everything else that lurked in his mind -- when he needed a distraction from his thoughts, when he was stuck on a puzzle, what he had been doing when he sneaked away from her during the night for the first time to furtively, innocently, touch himself.

But Navi gave wise counsel, and Link shoved his suspicions away to wonder about later. He touched the front of his tunic again -- nervously -- and rolled himself forward, beginning up the ramp, curling his body into a tight ball. He heard the scrape of metal against stone as the razor traps moved back and forth, and knew that their blades were sharp enough to split his skin with the slightest graze, but he tried not to think about that as he rolled up. It grew progressively harder to roll himself upward and to ignore the ominous scrapes of the razor traps, with heavy water and gravity and dread weighing down his bones -- but Link knew he was The Hero, and he felt his heart rapidly pitter-pattering as he achieved the top of the ramp.

He uncurled, stood and straightened, glancing up at the tall Boss Door looming before him. Boss Doors came in many sizes and shapes -- some came up to his waist, some were carved into rough circles, some materialized from and melted into pink healthy membrane. This was, by far, the largest and most ornate Boss Door he had yet encountered. But Link knew he was The Hero, and mustn't be afraid. He fumbled for the Boss Key in his bag, pulled it out, and shoved it into the lock; he waited patiently as the chains locking the door fell limply, waiting for the door to slide open.

The room beyond was blue. Link was mesmerized by it -- so mesmerized that he didn't hear the door echo shut behind him as he stepped tentatively into the Boss Room. It suddenly didn't matter to him that the rest of the Water Temple was also blue. The tiles that lined the ceilings and walls and floors were blue, and the four platforms situated in the pool of blue clean water in the center of the room were also blue, and even the cruel sharp spikes that lined the walls seemed to reflect the room's blue.

All that blueness intrigued -- and frightened -- him, but what surprised the swordsman most was how clean the water in the pool was, since the rest of the temple's dirty water mirrored the corruption his compass said was within this chamber. Light from some unknown source rippled across its surface, but it wasn't a calm pool. He could see it lapping lazily at the blue stone. And suddenly, he wanted to jump into it. Even though he knew it for what it was, he wanted to--

Distantly, he felt the itch of a sending. Link's eyes left the water's surface only briefly, but it was enough to break the spell it had cast over him, leaving him disgruntled. His lips turned down in annoyance and he swatted his partner away, but he couldn't ignore her for long. When the fog cleared from his mind, he turned toward Navi and stared at her until her aura grew dazzlingly bright and the light blurred into images.

A pond scummed over with algae that glitters like a king's ransom of diamonds. Weary travelers slaking their thirsts at poisoned pools. A leviathan, frighteningly massive and overwhelmingly alien, rising from a placid lake. Navi warned that, though inviting, there wasn't something quite right about the water.

The Hylian's voice lowered to a reverent tone that bordered on worship, but he turned his eyes away from the dimming light as the last image faded in his mind so he wouldn't have to look at the fairy anymore. "What do you think? Will my sword be enough?"

A great denizen's appendages shall remain untouched by cold steel. I would have you call on the goddesses for aid.

"There must be another way," he argued. "I mislike using magic."

A boy's shadow is conquered by the cleansing fire of Din, she reminded him -- but hastily, as if she felt the time of the arrival of the temple's Boss was growing nigh.

Link felt it as well, soon enough -- all at once the air thickened as if it, too, were water, and his palms grew sweaty with fear and anticipation beneath his gauntlets, and some black corruption he couldn't see seemed to squeeze the life from his chest. There was no telling what it was -- not in words -- but Link knew what it for what it was, and it was all he could do to keep from screaming.

He sheathed the Master Sword and blindly pulled out the longshot in his panic. Though the room wasn't lacking illumination, he stared down at the weapon as if he couldn't remember what it was.

The deer who stands very still, thinking the hunter will not see him, is killed by the arrow. A rabbit transfixed on cobblestones is run over by a wagon. Navi's sentiments mirrored his own. Link dove into a roll to the right, his breath leaving him in a grunt as he hit the tiles. He uncurled almost as soon as he started rolling and found himself in a corner. Crouching beneath the cruel row of spikes on the wall, he watched the pool as the pressure grew inside the chamber and inside his chest.

Before he could breathe again an amoeba more massive and monstrous than any Hylians had seen before was born into his world. A tower of water reached for the ceiling and showered Link with thick droplets before it collapsed on itself again. From the disturbed water rose an unsupported liquid tentacle that momentarily made the Hylian doubt what he was seeing. The swaying tentacle before him was sinewy and blue, and in it was an eye like nothing human.

Morpha, Navi whispered to him as they gaped at the large column of water. Grapple its eye before it can form tentacles!

Link wasted no time. Instinctively, he got to his feet, aiming briefly and deploying his longshot at the eye. Link awaited the throbbing core poolside, the hand that held the longshot trembling with effort. The hook made a splash as it dove into the strangely thick water after the eye. It almost touched it, almost, so close it made him grin. Green blood exploded in the water and he pulled it back to try again, but his eyes went wide with surprise when he saw the sphere trying to worm its way off of the longshot when the chain came back to him. The water had tricked him no doubt, trying to protect its master and confuse the enemy, but it wasn't protected now.

Link looked down at the glistening monster. A bloody gash where the longshot had hit marred the eye's perfect roundness, he saw with satisfaction, but before he could attack, it slithered back into the water. Then, before he could turn around, before he could deploy the chain again, a watery tentacle as thick around as his torso snatched him up and heaved him toward the ceiling. It turned him upside down and shook him violently, and he felt more than saw the Master Sword slip free of its sheath. Then the tentacle swung him down toward one of the four platforms with surprising speed and Link screamed. His world exploded with stars as his jaw hit the tiles with a sickening crack, and it took him a few moments to realize he'd bitten down on his tongue.

The blood in his mouth had a metallic tang to it. I can't fall in the water, he realized in a panic, but too late to save himself. Against his wishes, the tentacle that had grabbed him -- the tentacle that was insubstantial, invincible to a sword's blows, but real, so real, now -- had wrapped around his ankle, trapping it in a viselike embrace. Before he could draw breath to scream for Navi and Sheik and death, it was dragging him off the platform and towards its massive body that waited anxiously for a taste of his exotic white flesh.

Small Hylian boys die well, he heard Navi whisper -- sadly and far away. Even boys blessed by Farore.

The truth hit him like a slap in the face. Navi! Navi was abandoning him! For the first time he could recall, he felt true black malice toward his diminutive partner, and he saw his vision go red with rage despite the overwhelming blue of the chamber. "Not you," he heard himself saying, but the words came from somewhere far away.

Then he heard no more. The tentacle dragged him into the water with a splash that was nearly noiseless and quickly drew him beneath its surface. Within the water -- within the body of the amoeba -- he found his Zora Tunic was ineffective, and was afraid. He fought and struggled beneath the water that melted his skin and turned his bones to lead, trying to kick to the surface as his lungs sang and his muscles burned and his cock twitched.

He was so close to unconsciousness that he didn't realize he was floating until he heard Navi's plaintive voice. Link's eyes snapped open and he crawled out of the murky pool and rolled away from the edge, hauling air into his aching lungs and rubbing his watery eyes. He was still alive! He was bereft of the Master Sword but still alive, and the twitching between his legs was something he didn't even want to think about. If he had to face death again, now, he would face it as a Hylian, as the Hero of Time, as he had promised himself a thousand times he would face this hour when it finally came.

But before he could compose himself, one of Morpha's thick watery tentacles wrapped itself around his weakened body like a close friend and lifted him again. Link sucked in his breath and dug his fingers into the tentacle that gripped him -- despite the fact that it was only water -- and screamed again as it slammed him down against the water, into the water, beneath the water, with an impact that was as diamond-hard as solid ice.

The pain was incredible. The pain was everything. He ground his teeth, trying to fight against voicing the fantastic agony while underwater, his jaw sore. He forgot to breathe, but instinctively tried to swim to the surface all the same. Morpha did not want him to go. The cool sacred water brushing against his skin turned to glue, to syrup, dragging him down and stiffening against his body. It was pain to go up.

Oh, his cock was so hard. Was it the strange thick water doing this to him? Did he care? Did he care about anything except staying underneath the water because it felt so good, because he knew that if his tunic brushed against his cock in just the right way he'd come until he blacked out?

Link forced himself to care about getting to the surface of the water, about getting out. He forced himself to swim to the surface, despite the fact that trying to fight against the water was as painful as peeling the skin from his bones. He ignored the pain too; dwelling on the pain wouldn't help him get to the surface.

It was painful climbing out, but Link was glad to do it, no matter how weak and dazed the effort had left him. It left him so dazed that it took him many moments to realize that his leggings and Kokiri Boots were gone, sucked down by the syrupy water, abandoned at the bottom of the pool. Link didn't mind much -- if he had to sacrifice some of his clothing to escape from Morpha, then so be it.

The pool began to disturb itself again. Link's head whipped around to the source of the disturbance and watched it with wide eyes. The pool regurgitated his Master Sword, leggings, and Kokiri Boots like rejected bits of organ while Link goggled with wonder -- without Navi to tell him what it was doing, what else could he do? He watched them skitter across the blue stones and started toward his main weapon. Link never saw the large clublike tentacle that rose from the water and dealt him a murderous blow to the side of the head, leaving a bloody gash near his temple, sprawling him across the tiles.

Link opened his eyes to find -- to his horror -- that an army of thin watery tentacles had surrounded him. He tried to get up to face them but could not, and fear and overwhelming emotion bloomed in his belly.

"No," he sobbed in defeat, his weeping blue eyes fixed on the tentacles before him that writhed hungrily at the eye's command. They looked vaguely phallic to his eye, but in his despair he imagined they wanted only to wrap around him. Around his neck.

Then, Morpha attacked.

One as thick as his wrist lashed out, forcing itself down his throat until he gagged and tried to retch. It pulled away as quickly as it had come. Another, slender as a finger, wormed its way into his earring's hoop and twisted around itself, forming a crude knot. The knotted tentacle tried to pull back until the earlobe stretched unnaturally and Link screamed. Then yet another pressed down on his throat and shoulders, pinning him to the floor, restricting his air supply. The last -- or the first again, it was a twin to the first -- waved before him like a grain stalk in the wind, the rounded end weeping some alien lubricant from an orifice he couldn't name. He struggled to breathe, to pull air into his battered lungs, trying to defeat the amoeba, Morpha, with the sheer force of his hatred.

"No!" he screamed furiously, feeling one of the thinner tentacles probing between his legs. It was as cool and light as a lover's kiss as it wormed between his milky cheeks but it made his stomach heave. That tentacle pressed insistently against the puckered flesh of his entrance and Link couldn't stop himself from shivering a little -- it reminded him of how he'd felt underwater -- but as the tentacle pushed itself inside of him, it morphed to jagged ice. He screamed and tried to twist away, tried to evade the tearing, painful invasion, the humiliating violation, the grotesque perversion of Morpha forcing its mass into his.

It was the worst pain; it cut deeper than any sword ever had. It moved in and out of him, alternately slick and jagged, cutting and soothing, and Link watched through pain-clouded eyes as another phallic-shaped tentacle rose from the water and wiggled over to his body. He thought it would join the one pushing itself into him and he was afraid, but it wrapped itself around his hard cock instead, moving rapidly up and down the shaft, its grip tightening and loosening. And Link moaned in a helpless way and closed his eyes, but not seeing didn't stop the feeling. As the tentacle squeezed him particularly viciously, he felt himself topple over whatever line separated him from this act, he felt himself come, dribbling come uselessly onto the blue tiles, smearing ejaculate over his tunic, clenching his muscles.

He was lazy and content in the aftermath of his orgasm, and let Morpha freely have its way with him. It didn't matter how he'd come, it had felt too good -- but the afterglow of his orgasm cruelly and swiftly faded, and he became acutely aware of the pain of the jagged tentacle pushing in and out of him, and was disgusted.

"No!"

He felt the hot torrent of the frigid tentacle's release, the sickening sensation as some sticky fluid flooded him. He wanted to rip it apart. He wished he could. He wanted to kill it, and would look for an opportunity to do so every single minute between now and the moment he died.

The tentacles, sated now, slid away and melted back into the pool of water.

He wanted to kill it, and that he could do.

I would have you call on the goddesses for aid. Had Navi sent that, or was it only a memory? It didn't matter; what mattered was that it motivated Link to move, and ignore the fact that he was wearing nothing beneath his tunic, and reach in his magic bag for the fire that had defeated Dark Link.

Morpha did not rest for long; it seemed to know exactly what Link was trying to do, or at least sensed danger in what he was trying to do. A tentacle exploded from the water and rushed greedily for Link -- not one of the narrow phallic tentacles, but a wide one, one designed to kill.

"Please," Link cried aloud as he fumbled for the fiery crystal he knew was in his bag, while the tentacle with its blind intelligent eye rushed toward him. He clutched Din's Fire in his hand and it almost slipped from his grip. He offered his pleas to the gods, and broke open the crystal, and it was enough. The sudden explosion of magical fire dissolved the eye's protections and it flopped down not fifteen feet from him

Run away, he felt Navi send as he struggled to his knees, run run run, but when he rose, trembling, to his feet, he grabbed the Master Sword and dashed toward the eye, which was helpless now. "The Hero of Time does not run!" he shouted as he approached.

Morpha itself tried to flop back into the strange water but Link grabbed at it, his hands sinking into the jellied mass up to the wrists. He pulled them free with a loud sucking sound that made his insides lurch and stabbed and slashed and spun at the eye, ripping at the sclera and watching green blood well up in the cuts he dealt with his blessed sword. He paused a moment when it wasn't moving anymore...and then attacked in earnest.

His scream a mixture of overwhelming fear and rage, Link threw the Master Sword aside, barely hearing it hit the tiles with a loud metallic clatter. Again he plunged his hands into the ravaged, ruined heart of the eye and though it was akin to putting his hands into a bucket of something warm and foul, he found he could not pull them away. He savaged and tore until it became an unrecognizable thing in his hands, but all he could feel was the thin blood trickling slowly down between his thighs.

It was over soon enough.

Sobbing and shivering, wet and cold, Link sank to his knees and then sat down, boneless. He groped for his discarded leggings and struggled to put them back on, but his hands wouldn't work right, and he finally sagged in defeat. It was all he could do to close his eyes and listen to Navi's slurred murmur, though he couldn't make out the words. He had to leave this place, he had to, but all he could think about was the tentacle around his cock, the cool sacred water against his skin. But no and no, and goddesses, oh sweet goddesses, don't do that again, please don't do that again.