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Sidon is already half-asleep when Tumbo - who is going through a phase recently where he refuses to go to bed, no matter what his parents or anyone else in the Domain tells him - comes running in. "Prince Sidon, Prince Sidon!”
Sidon suppresses a yawn, narrowing his eyes into the sternest look he can manage. He rests his arms on the edge of the pool he was trying to sleep in. The evening air is cool and pleasant on his scales. "Shouldn't you be asleep by now?”
"Yeah, yeah, I was gonna go, but that Hylian's here!” Tumbo’s fins flicker in and out in juvenile excitement as he waves his arms. “You said you wanted to know if he came back so I’m letting you know he came back.”
“Link is here?" Sidon can't help but break into a grin at the news, and he's on his feet and halfway across the room before saying, "Thank you, Tumbo!"
Tumbo scampers after him, having to run just to keep pace with Sidon's admittedly quick walk.
Link is out in front of the palace, looking up at Mipha’s statue. Sidon has spent so many nights doing exactly that, standing just where Link is now; it fills him with a strange sense of nostalgia. He hasn’t seen Link much since the defeat of Calamity Ganon. There was a huge celebration at the ruins of Hyrule Castle, and since then Link has been busy restoring the palace and helping the Hylian princess with her duties, serving once more as her loyal protector and champion.
Some tiny part of Sidon can’t help but feel jealous, but mostly he admires Link, as ever. He understands, he thinks, why Mipha was so fond of him. Their days together in the Domain were some of the best Sidon has ever had - helping Link was just as satisfying as anything Sidon has accomplished alone.
“Link!” Sidon spreads his arms, gesturing cheerfully. “Welcome back, my friend! What brings you here so late?”
Link looks up at him, blinking, then looks at the dark sky up above. Sidon looks up, too, at the vast array of stars, and the pale sliver of the moon, whose light reflects off the glowing stones and the water, casting the domain in a radiant glow. Further from the domain, the night gets truly dark, but here, even when the moon vanishes into is own shadow, even when clouds cover the sky, there’s always light to see by. No matter how late or how dark it gets, people can find their way around the domain safely.
“Did you lose track of time?” Sidon’s question earns a sheepish nod from Link, and the prince throws his head back with laughter. “Fair enough! I have always said you are welcome here any time, and that includes the middle of the night.”
One corner of Link’s mouth quirks up, and he gives Sidon a thumbs up. (Sidon has argued with the other new champions, and with all sorts of travelers to the domain, over who invented the gesture - Muzu and his father both insist it’s a Zora tradition, but the Gorons say it’s theirs, as do the Gerudo. The only people of Hyrule that Sidon has never heard lay claim to the gesture are the Hylians, though they use it as often as anyone else.)
“So, what brings you here?” Sidon asks. He’s half tempted to crouch down, to get on eye level with Link. Some part of him always wants to be closer to the other man, though he doesn’t think Link has ever expressed any interest in return. It’s hard to be sure - Link speaks only when he deems it necessary, and keeps his emotions close to his chest even when he does. “Important business?”
Link shakes his head, then, finally, speaks, for the first time since his arrival. “Zelda said I needed a vacation.”
“It has been over a hundred years since you had a day off,” Sidon agrees, trying to put on a stern face before giving up and grinning again, showing his teeth.
Then, honor of honors: Link laughs, turning his face away. There’s something very charming about it: the demure tilt of his head, the way the soft skin at the corners of his eyes crinkle, and the unfamiliar softness of the sound.
Sidon is doomed.
Still, he was raised to be a leader and not to show weakness, so instead of swooning, he says, “I am honored you decided to visit as you begin your travels!”
Link looks down at the ground for a moment, expression evening out again to something more like his usual neutrality. “I don’t want to travel.”
“No?” Sidon cocks his head to the side, his headtail swaying languidly behind him.
Link, still looking down, reaches out, holding onto one of Sidon’s hands with both of his own. His pinkish skin is pale against the red of Sidon’s scales, though with more color than the prince’s underbelly. It’s a lovely intermediate shade, and his touch is soft against Sidon’s tough hide. He rubs a thumb against Sidon’s knuckles. “I thought I’d stay here for a while.”
“Oh! Well, of course! Come along; I can have the inn make sure you have a bed for as long as you need.”
Link nods, pulling his hands away to dig into his bag for some rupees, but Sidon reaches out and presses his fingers closed over the gems.
“Never mind that. You saved the world. I think it’s the least we can do to thank you to let you stay here without having to pay for it.”
Link’s eyes narrow, like he might argue, and he begins to shake his head before cutting the movement short. He looks down at Sidon’s hand, covering his own. One shoulder rises and falls in a shrug, and he pulls away, putting his money back.
-
Sidon tries to sleep for another half hour after Link is settled in at the inn, before giving up entirely on the issue. Here is the trouble: it is the middle of spring. Link is in town for an indeterminate period of time, but at least a week. Sidon, Prince of the Zora and future ruler of the domain, is stricken by the exact same sort of infatuation for Link that his sister once harbored. He doesn’t want to dishonor his sister’s memory, so he can’t exactly make armor for Link - the Hylian already has Zora armor, which means Sidon has to fall back on other courtship methods if he wants to make his intentions clear.
Every now and then he nearly manages to psych himself out of the idea, but - his sister died without ever knowing if Link loved her. Sidon does not want to risk the same. He thinks his chances of death are, all told, fairly low, but - one never knows. Death can come for anyone at any time. Another Lynel could take up residence atop Mount Ploymus and a stray shock arrow could take him out. A lizalfos could get lucky. Heavy rain could trigger a landslide and he could be buried under layers of mud and stone.
None of these are likely, and he does not fear any impending demise, but - he has convinced himself that the only practical thing to do, given this chance, is to try and win Link’s affections.
So, he stays up the rest of the night, pacing the domain, trying to figure out how best to do so.
In a few days’ time, it will be the Festival of Naydra. The holiday honors a time, five centuries prior, when the dragon had appeared, coming down from Mount Lanayru and passing over the Domain on the very day that the Zora prince at the time had been weighing whether or not to propose to his beloved. The appearance of the dragon, guardian of the fountain of wisdom, had signaled to him that the marriage would be a wise choice, and he and his queen had ruled benevolently together for a hundred years. Ever since, it’s been a holiday for confessions of love, marriage proposals, and being wise enough to know one’s own heart.
The timing of Link’s arrival, so soon to the holiday, seems auspicious in and of itself. But it would not be wise to simply ask for Link’s hand on the day. No, Sidon needs to win Link over, first. He will have to figure out how.
(The first thing he does is leave some fresh-caught fish with the innkeeper, humbly requesting that he let Link know its provenance whenever he should awake. Not the boldest of moves, but it’s something.)
-
“He likes swords,” Bazz says, leaning heavily on his spear and nodding sagely. “You could get him a sword.”
“He already has a sword. He has the sword, in fact; the sword that seals the darkness. What sword could I get for him that would match that?”
“Fine, Your Highness, no swords. Then what about - oh, he already has Mipha’s old trident …”
“And I do not think giving him another token of my sister’s would be - I mean no disrespect to her memory, of course, but I think it would not, ah, signal correctly my intentions.”
“No, no, you’re right,” Bazz agrees after a moment. He looks around for a moment, frowning, fins fluttering as he considers the issue. “You know, I still think a sword would work. It’s the concept, you know? I brought Marot some rice once.”
“Rice.”
“Yes.”
“And did that … win her over?” Sidon asks, trying not to laugh.
“Well, no, but she seemed happy about it,” Bazz says. “She said she sold it to some Hylian the next day and made a bunch of money!”
“I would just give Link rupees if I wanted him to resell what I gave him the next day.”
“Listen, Your Highness, I may not know much, but I know Link, and I know he likes swords.”
-
Sidon finds the finest sword he can in the royal armory, a well-wrought silver weapon that is perhaps a little too large for the Hylian in theory. In practice, Sidon has seen him wield all sorts of weapons, from clubs to swords to spears, that all seemed equally unsuited for him in different ways. A sword being slightly large does not seem like it will pose much of a hindrance.
He finds Link cooking breakfast near the fire that morning, and sits down next to him.
“Link, my dear friend! I want you to take this.”
Link takes the sword, staring at it, and nods. That’s it. No further reaction.
“It is - of the highest quality,” Sidon says, stumbling over himself to explain. “And if you have any trouble with it breaking during your travels, you are welcome to bring it back and we can have it reforged at any time.”
Link nods again, then leans the sword against his seat as he turns his attention back to the meat, fish and vegetables he has cooking over the fire. After a moment, when all is done, he uses the sword to scoop everything out onto a plate.
After a moment’s thought, he looks up at Sidon. “Did you want any of this? I made enough for both of us.”
“I, ah.” Sidon is still taken aback by the use of the sword in the cooking process, and it takes him a moment to comport himself. “Yes, thank you!”
And so they share a quiet meal at the inn, though Sidon repeatedly finds himself looking at the sword, hoping quietly to himself that Link will at least clean it at some point. At least his gift has already made itself useful, if not quite how Sidon had hoped.
He will have to try something else.
-
Sidon is swimming, surveying the domain, when Laruta pounces on him, clinging to his head tail. He rolls in the water, trying to shake her loose, and she giggles. He hadn’t known she was out here today, but he’s always glad to see his subjects.
Sidon scoops the young girl up in his arms, and she sticks her tongue out at him. “Prince Sidon! Prince Sidon, do you want to hear the song I wrote?”
“Of course, Laruta,” he says, setting her down on an outcropping of rock. This part of the domain is safe; since the Calamity was defeated, there have been fewer and fewer monsters menacing the territory. Sidon still has to defend his people from time to time, but it’s pleasant, being able to swim and explore without so much fear.
She takes a deep breath, gills flaring wide, and sings a little ditty about the upcoming festival. He’s glad she’s moved on from singing the song from the Champion festival, at least; she spent at least half the year humming that one last year, when Link first returned and was preparing to face the Calamity.
When she’s done, she puffs up her cheeks. “Prince Sidon, Tona and Tula said that Bazz said that you like Link. You’re way more handsome than him! You can do lots better!”
“Link saved all of Hyrule,” Sidon points out, helpfully. “Also, Bazz needs to learn better discretion.”
“I don’t know what discretion is, but if you really like him, you should sing him a song.” She sits down, folding her arms and kicking her legs in the water, splashing Sidon. Her energy is infectious, and Sidon does a little spin in the water before doing a backflip - making sure he lands in such a way that little Laruta gets splashed in return. “Hey! I mean it!”
“You know, a song may not be such a bad idea,” Sidon acknowledges, reaching up out of the water to pat her on the head. “You’re very wise, Laruta. A song it is!”
“I still think you can do better,” she says, but, in a whisper, she adds, “but he is really cute, so maybe it’s okay.”
“As long as I have your approval, then I am content,” Sidon says, laughing.
-
In the afternoon, Sidon invites Link to come swim with him, a little way from the city proper, and Link nods and dons his Zora armor, bringing the sword with him. Link swims slower than Sidon’s normal pace, but he’s happy to slow down. While he could carry Link, there’s something pleasant about traveling this way, too - the slower pace allows Sidon to admire both the scenery and his traveling companion. Once, he dives beneath the surface, and finds himself so transfixed staring up at Link’s silhouette that he nearly runs into a rock.
As the prince, Sidon is well accustomed to the signs of infatuation; half the domain fawns over him, and more than a few with romantic intent. Before now, he has not been especially driven to pick someone to wed just yet; he is young and has plenty of time. So he has watched other people swoon over each other and noted the way that his subjects act around him, and he is well aware just how transparent his behavior is. Laruta hadn’t even questioned the rumor of his infatuation with the hero - she’d second-guessed how smart it was, sure, but that Sidon was besotted wasn’t in question.
They are halfway to the spot Sidon has picked out to serenade Link when a group of lizalfos stage an ambush. It’s no real difficulty dispatching of the beasts, not with the both of them fighting together. Link is less useful in the water, but Sidon manages to help bait each of the lizalfos onto the shore in turn, and then Link makes quick work of them with the sword Sidon had gifted to him earlier. He’s sure-footed and graceful, making the task look effortless in the way only someone who has spent a lifetime practicing can manage. Combat, for Link, seems to come as naturally as breathing, his form flashing quick and sure as a barracuda - sharp, fast, predatory but without malice.
Link does actually clean the blade, after the fight, and gathers up monster parts for … whatever it is Hylians do with monster parts. Sidon isn’t actually entirely clear on that, but he is not about to judge. If Link thinks he needs lizalfos’ tails and teeth for something, then he must, in fact, need them for something.
“A wonderful job, as always!” Sidon declares, clenching his fist with pride. To see Link in battle again is always an honor; he cuts such a dashing figure as he cuts down his foes without hesitation. Link always remains calm. Sidon feels the fins at his elbows and shoulders flaring inadvertently, an instinctive reaction: trying to make himself look as impressive as he finds Link. “I would expect no less, of course. It is an honor to fight by your side. I hope we can do it again soon.”
“I’m on vacation,” Link responses eventually, as he’s finished putting all the monster parts away. He looks down at his feet. Sidon is about to speak, but Link takes in a deep breath and goes on. “If you need help with anything, I’m happy to do it. But I - I just want to rest. If that’s alright.”
“I …” Sidon pauses, trying to figure out what Link’s talking about. He steps back into the water, backing away from shore just enough so he can mostly submerge himself, just his head above water as he thinks. That is one nice thing about how quiet Link is: Sidon doesn’t have to answer so quickly if he doesn’t want to. Usually he does, but right now he appreciates having a little longer to consider the situation. “Ah, you thought I brought you out here to fight monsters. No; I had no idea the lizalfos would be here. I am sorry if that is how it seemed, my friend. I just wanted to pass the time with you. I simply got carried away by the thrill of combat. Watching you fight is exhilarating! But I would not push you into it without warning, not on purpose.”
Link looks up again, meeting Sidon’s eyes. Sidon meets his gaze, steady, trying to project all his sincerity and earnestness. That seems to satisfy Link, who nods.
“Here,” Sidon decides, and, without particularly thinking about it, he picks Link up, only briefly seeing how the Hylian’s eyes widen. “On my back - it will be quicker, and there’s no risk of further ambush if we travel quickly enough that they can’t see us!”
Enjoyable as it was to swim slowly, there’s still something extremely satisfying about going full-tilt, a base level physical satisfaction in pushing himself and not holding back. And there’s something satisfying, too, about Link’s weight on his back - Link’s knees pressed to his side, one hand clutching his shoulder while the other holds on to his headtail. Without the pressure of combating the corrupted Divine Beast, Sidon can just enjoy himself and the situation.
Moving full tilt also means they arrive at their destination faster. It’s a little grotto, tucked away behind a waterfall; the walls are made up of luminous stone, the pale ghostlight illuminating the coral-like plants that grow out from the water. Little salamanders cling to the walls, skittering into cracks to hide when they hear Sidon and Link’s arrival.
There is a big, flat expanse of rock, elevated out of the water. Sidon leaps from the water, twisting in the air and doing an over-dramatic flip before landing on his feet and helping Link down. Something about spending time with Link always makes him want to show off.
Link looks around the grotto, running his hands along the gleaming stone of the walls, crouching down to examine some mushrooms. His hair is pressed flat to his face, soaking wet. It always fascinates Sidon how much a Hylian’s appearance can change when they’re wet. The little tufts of hair that hang over Link’s ears, which, when dry, remind Sidon so much of golden fins, plaster themselves against his skin instead when wet, making him look sort of like a wet dog.
Even with that unflattering comparison in mind, Sidon still finds the Hylian handsome beyond measure. He is not alone in the domain in thinking so. (Part of him fears that Link may already be spoken for - he and the princess seem to share a deep, abiding bond. Even so, Sidon is going to stay the course. Naydra may represent wisdom, but wisdom is not the only gift the Goddess has given Hyrule and its people; courage is just as much a part of the triforce.
If Sidon’s affections are one-sided, so be it. Worse things have happened in the world, and he will be happy so long as Link is happy.
“I like this place,” Link says after a long while. He sits down, legs hanging off the rock. It’s a few feet to the water below. He stares down, watching fish slowly reemerge after having been startled into hiding by their entrance. The acoustics of the cavern are such that the waterfall only causes a dull roar; the grotto is elevated enough from the lake below that the sound is muted by distance and geometry.
There’s a pleasant echo, too, to voices in the grotto. That was part of why Sidon chose it. If he’s going to sing to Link, he wants the whole situation to be ideal: privacy, acoustics, and ambiance are all in play. There are stories of Zora princesses winning the hearts of those they wish to marry with their songs. Sidon may not be a princess, but he hopes that being royalty will lend him some advantage here.
He clears his throat, sitting next to Link. He makes sure to leave a respectful distance between them. “Link! Would you like to hear a song?”
Link blinks up at him, seeming puzzled, but eventually nods.
Sidon takes a deep breath and sings. He closes his eyes to do so, sitting up straight, cycling breath carefully through his gills to ensure he can hold each note as long as it deserves. His voice sounds nearly as good above water as below, and he’s gotten quite a bit of praise for his voice over the years. He knows he’s impressive, when it comes to this, and even to the other races - visitors to the domain have said as much.
The whole time, he can feel Link watching him, that steady gaze pinning him in place. Still, Sidon reminds himself that he needs courage, and his voice does not crack from nerves even once as he sings an old Zora legend about a time just after the founding of the domain when the second-ever Zora prince fell in love with a brave guardsman.
When he finishes, he gives his biggest grin. “So, what did you think?”
Link watches him placidly, blinking slowly, before seeming to realize he was asked a question. He licks his lips and looks away; his ears, which were perked forward as he listened, settle back into their normal resting position. “That was nice. You have a good singing voice.”
“Thank you, my friend.” Sidon thinks he has not been clear enough, but he’s not entirely sure how to be clearer, at this point. Maybe - and the weight of it is finally settling on his shoulders - Link simply isn’t interested. He supposes that’s fair enough. They are quite different, after all; Link is calm and reserved where Sidon is proud and forward. Link is quiet where Sidon is loud. Link is - not a Zora. Maybe he is not interested in romance with anyone but another Hylian; just as importantly, he may only be interested in women.
There are all sorts of possible obstacles, and Sidon is beginning to think he is hoping for too much. Still, the festival draws ever-nearer, and he is not ready to give up on catching Link’s eye just yet. He needs to show the true determination of the Zora. He will find another way to show Link how he feels and prove himself a worthy suitor.
But first: “Do you know any songs?”
Link narrows his eyes. “You think I know how to sing?”
“You’re wonderful at everything you do, as far as I can tell,” Sidon says, laughing. “I can only assume you would be a good singer, too.”
“I’m awful at it,” Link says, voice warming somewhat. He smiles wryly, and Sidon is, as ever, transfixed by the expression. Link’s smiles are a rare treasure. “Fighting’s what I do best. And climbing.”
“You are also an excellent cook,” Sidon reminds him. “And you have saved the world!”
“By fighting,” Link says, laughing this time. “What else? I can use a paraglider better than anyone. Even impresses the Rito.”
“We should go flying some day!”
Link eyes Sidon up and down. “We’d need a really big paraglider. You’re pretty heavy.”
Sidon flexes an arm. “But strong!”
With a crooked grin, Link says, “Doesn’t help.”
Sidon fights the urge to sigh and swoon. If nothing else, his song and the subsequent conversation have brightened Link’s mood, and maybe that is enough. Sidon can believe in him and make him smile and that might be enough. He can’t heal like his sister could, but he has his own talents. “Ah, even so. I think it is worth a try. We can build a paraglider suitable for a Zora prince and you can teach me how to use it. If you will not sing for me, I think you owe me that much.”
“We can try,” Link agrees eventually, though he shakes his head.
“I am teasing,” Sidon says, just in case; Link rolls his eyes, bumping his fist against Sidon’s arm. “Though I truly would like to learn.”
“I said we can try.” Link laughs. “You don’t need to convince me. I have my doubts it’ll work, but - it’s fine. I like spending time with you anyway.”
Sidon’s headtail swishes happily at that, fins fluttering with how pleased he is to hear it. “And I you, Link.”
-
“I can’t believe you are trying to - to woo a Hylian,” Muzu says the next morning, his bioluminescence brighter than usual with his frustration. “I do understand that he is perhaps not as bad as I thought, but still. You are a Prince!”
“Yes,” Sidon says. “I am, and you know full well I do not do this often, but I would ask you to kindly restrain yourself if you plan on criticizing me on this matter.”
“You are not immune to criticism, Your Highness.” Muzu scowls up at him, headtail stiff and hands clenched into fists. He’s such a bitter old man, even now, even softened. “But … no, forgive me. I am being too harsh in my old age. I think it is a terrible idea, but if it will make you happy I suppose you can at least try.”
“You’ll be pleased to know that I don’t think he returns my affection,” Sidon admits after a moment.
“What have you tried?”
“I brought him fish to cook. I gave him a sword. I took him to - you know the grotto behind the waterfall? I took him there and sang to him.” Sidon nods. “I cannot very well make armor for him; he already has a set, and I would not want to disrespect Mipha’s legacy.”
“That’s for Princesses to do, besides,” Muzu agrees. “At least you’ve got that right. Have you tried chasing him?”
“Ah, that’s an idea,” Sidon says, nodding to himself. “Yes, I will have to.”
“It’s that or do whatever those pitiful Hylians do to court each other. They must have something like romance; they manage to breed, after all. What are their rituals like?” Despite all his misgivings, Muzu is providing actual advice. Sidon is tempted to point it out and thank him, but decides the better of it; the prickly old ray would probably stop being helpful the instant it was pointed out to him, just out of obstinacy.
“I have absolutely no idea,” Sidon says, then brightens. “Ah! I can ask a merchant!”
-
There are no Hylian merchants in town, anywhere.
“Link, my friend, I am going to Kakariko village for the afternoon. Will you be alright spending the hours by yourself?”
Link seems puzzled, but ends up nodding, gesturing toward the village.
“Thank you.” Sidon nods, and dives off a ledge into the water below, swimming as much of the way as he can.
-
“Flowers,” Impa tells him. “Those are the answer. There’s no way he’ll mistake your intent with those.”
“Are you sure?” Sidon asks, fretful.
“Absolutely.”
-
The first batch of flowers Sidon tries to return with end up ruined by the water, most of the petals gone and leaves pulled off by the current. He swam entirely too fast with them.
The second batch, he collects closer to the domain itself, and ends up dropping when a moblin sneaks up on him. He dispatches the monster easily, but also ends up trampling the flowers underfoot. He ends up giving up for the night and trying again the next morning.
Third time, fortunately, is the charm. He doesn’t have any roses or lilies or anything especially impressive anymore, just little wildflowers that he gathers up into a bundle and carries carefully overland into the domain.
Link seems baffled when Sidon walks up to him holding out the bunch.
“They’re for you,” Sidon says after a moment, still holding them out. “To use.”
Link just stares at him, saying nothing.
“I visited Kakariko Village,” Sidon explains. “Impa said you would like flowers and that they would be a good gift.”
“For what? Elixirs?” Link asks after a moment. “Are they for elixirs?”
Sidon pauses. “Maybe? I’m unsure.”
Link takes the flowers, eventually, considering them thoughtfully before nodding and wandering off with them. Sidon watches him go, just as confused as Link had seemed mere moments ago.
-
Sidon ends up busy the rest of the day, and has little time to fret over whether the flowers worked. He doesn’t think they did, despite Impa’s assurances. Still, it was worth a try.
The sky is dark and he sits gnawing on a bass alone when Link appears, seemingly out of nowhere, with a glass bottle full of a greenish liquid.
Link holds it out. Sidon stares at him, the fish still caught between his teeth, before tossing his head back and swallowing the rest of it in one bite.
“What’s this? A gift?”
“The flowers,” Link says after a moment, staring up at him.
“What does it do?”
Link shrugs.
“I … see,” Sidon says; he’s touched by the gesture, though vaguely worried about actually ingesting the elixir. It could do anything from restore his health to poison him, and he’s not keen to find out what. He doubts Link would give him anything dangerous, but even so.
-
Over dinner, Sidon says, “Tomorrow is a festival! Your vacation is well timed, my friend.”
Link gives him a thumbs up, expression otherwise impassive as he eats the bowl of stew he’d made earlier in the evening.
“The weather is good, and everyone is in high spirits. It should be a wonderful time. You are more than welcome to take part.”
Link smiles at him, cheeks gone a curious reddish color, and looks away. Sidon clasps his hands together under his chin, resting his elbows on his knees as he leans forward to take a closer look, his headtail flicking with interest.
“Tottika says you’ve been fitting in well,” Sidon says, somewhat aimless. “I am very glad to hear it. It is wonderful to have you visiting under better circumstances. I do apologize for the somewhat lacking hospitality when you last came to visit. Oldtimers do hold grudges sometimes. I cannot say I do not understand the source of their frustrations, but still - it was all very unfair to you. You are … I admire you very much, and I would never want you to feel as if you are unwelcome or out of place here.”
Link holds onto his bowl tightly, poking at his stew with his spoon, nudging the last dregs of it around.
“I am glad you decided to spend your vacation here,” Sidon continues, less sure of himself now because of Link’s odd reaction. “Well. It grows late. I should let you sleep, now that you’re finished eating.”
“Stay,” Link says, quickly, louder than he usually speaks; his reaction seems to startle even him.
“Oh! Yes, of course.” Sidon pauses. “Did you want to go for a swim?”
Link pushes a hand through his bangs, chewing on his lower lip. then looks over his shoulder toward one of the many waterfalls and ledges.
“Then swim we shall!”
-
The enchantments on Link’s armor mean he can swim faster than a normal Hylian, but he’s still not as gifted in the water as even a young adult Zora. (He’s faster than young Tumbo, say, but that is only barely a compliment.)
The advice from Muzu earlier, that Sidon give chase, is still echoing in his head. The flower gambit seems to have done nothing, though Sidon has put the elixir near the pool where he sleeps, using it more like a decoration than something he ever intends to imbibe. So: a chase it is. Perhaps it’s too forward, compared to the earlier gifts and displays, but it’s also less ambiguous.
Link is meandering his way across the lake, so Sidon comes up from behind him, spiraling through the water, all his fins spread and his bioluminescence aglow in what he’s been told is a very impressive display.
He circles Link, who stops, treading water and tracking his movements with his gaze. Link chews on his lower lip with those little square teeth of his, and Sidon darts forward, stopping up short when Link doesn’t move.
Sidon tries again - diving down, reapproaching, and this time Link seems to get the idea, grinning and kicking away.
Normally in a display like this, Sidon would be showing his full speed and strength, but the Hylian is so outclassed that he has no real choice but to hold back. Instead, he funnels his energy and efforts into flashy swimming - great, arcing jumps out of the water, circling Link as he tries to find a direction to dodge in.
For whatever reason, Link is laughing, which seems like a good sign. Sidon is grinning broadly, too, though he’s a little too focused to laugh.
It’s when they get to the shallows and Link goes running off across the land that things get interesting. The Hylian is quick on land, and far more agile than he is in the water. Sidon has never heard of a Zora giving chase across the land, but then, he’s only heard of a few pairings between Zora and Hylian, and has not actually pried into the details. (In hindsight, he realizes he probably should have, but none of the couples he knows of live in the domain; they’re scattered across Hyrule and had slipped his mind entirely when he was trying to figure out how to court Link. That he took the time to visit Kakariko village and didn’t think to go elsewhere to track any of them down doesn’t speak particularly well of him, but Sidon has been decidedly distracted, of late.)
Link is a better climber than Sidon, though Sidon has the superior vertical leap. He scrambles up ledges and down ravines with startling ease, and Sidon is absolutely delighted to be given a proper challenge.
He knows the domain better than Link, so he manages to drive him into a corner, where his only choice is to be caught or to dive off a cliff to the river below.
Link, breathless and grinning, goes for the latter. Of course he does. Sidon laughs and follows.
In the water again, it’s easy enough to reach out and grab Link, pulling him close. Link is pliant, seemingly willing to be caught, now. Sidon has his arms around him, holding the little Hylian to his chest, and Link presses his face against Sidon’s shoulder, humming cheerfully under his breath. Link runs a restless hand over Sidon’s scales, which run smooth one way, rough the other, before he starts investigating the fins on Sidon’s shoulder instead. Sidon flares his fins as impressively as he can, showing off the full flush of their color, shivering somewhat at the feeling of Link’s hands at the place where his shoulder-fins join his flesh.
All of Sidon’s instincts are telling him that he should, now that the chase is done, bite down on Link’s neck just hard enough to keep him in place. But Sidon isn’t actually sure how hard that is, and Link’s skin is so much thinner than a Zora’s that Sidon doesn’t want to risk hurting him. He hopes Link won’t think that, by not doing so, that Sidon has chased and caught him for nothing.
He gathers up his courage, though, inspired as ever by Link’s own bravery, and asks, to reassure himself and to be certain his intentions are clear, “Can I bite you?”
Link wriggles out of his grasp, treading water in front of him, head tilted to the side in clear confusion.
“Since I caught you,” Sidon clarifies, his fins all gone flat, pressed tight against his body with none of his earlier confidence from just moments ago.
Normally, when Link takes some time to answer, Sidon doesn’t mind it. He can be patient. Usually. Now, though, with his heart racing from nerves, each second feels like an eternity. Finally, Link says, “Biting seems like a bad idea.”
Sidon nods to himself. “Right, then, of course. I would not want to overstep. I apologize, my friend.”
Link frowns up at him. “Thanks?”
“I would never want to do anything you were not comfortable with,” Sidon says.
Link pats him on the arm, awkwardly. His face has gone that bright red color it sometimes does. Maybe it’s a subconscious threat display; he seems to do it when he’s uncomfortable. Sidon balks at the thought that he’s made Link feel so defensive.
So: there is a festival tomorrow, and Link is not interested. Sidon supposes he should have expected as much.
“But we are - you are my dearest friend, no matter what,” Sidon explains, pressing a hand over his chest. His headtail sways anxiously behind him, fins loosening up just enough to flutter nervously. “I hope you know that.”
“Best friends,” Link agrees, nodding vehemently.
That’s it, then. Sidon can be happy with that. “So, then! It grows late. You must be tired.”
Link looks north, toward the domain, and starts heading that direction without another word. Sidon follows after, keeping a more respectful distance than he has been of late.
-
Despite yesterday’s disappointment, the excitement and joy of the festival are contagious. Festivals are probably the best part of Sidon’s job as prince - wrangling all the moving pieces to make them come together is difficult, but raising the spirits of everyone in the domain, spreading joy and making them feel valued, is worth it. Helping everyone come together to celebrate and rallying them is far more fun than working out trade deals with the Goron or worrying about incursions by particularly organized groups of mokoblins.
Lately, Sidon has had to sit through more and more dull trade summits. Ultimately, that’s good news; it means the races are back in contact with each other, Hyrule healing from the long, sad slumber that seemed to overtake the world when the Calamity reappeared. Sidon has spent most of his life with that shadow looming distant on the horizon, never knowing when it might finally slip free and destroy the rest of the world.
So: today is a festival day, and he gets to open the morning by giving a rousing speech, singing a classic song about the dragon Naydra, and then he gets to join the crowd and dance and cavort with the people of what will one day be his domain to rule. King Dorephan will live a long time yet, but Sidon knows full well that this will all be his responsibility one day. For now, he is glad he has the freedom to enjoy himself as much as he can.
He has decided to himself to give Link space. Maybe it’s cowardice; maybe it’s wisdom. One or the other. He can’t quite bring himself to bother Link again so soon after being turned down.
But by midday, he can’t ignore Link anymore, mainly because the Hylian has cornered him near a balcony, despite all of Sidon’s efforts to avoid and evade him. It reminds him, in a perverse and absurd way, of yesterday’s chase, only in slow motion, weaving through a crowd instead of through the water and over the rocky terrain.
Link is dressed in decidedly Zora-esque fashion, and whoever decided it was acceptable to outfit him so - bedecked in jewelry, shirtless, with a pretty headpiece sitting atop his hair - will have to be rewarded. Or punished. Sidon isn’t sure which. (He’s just grateful Link has pants on. He knows enough about Hylian culture to know that would be weird.)
Still, seeing Link bedecked in Zora finery makes Sidon’s fins flare in an involuntary display. For all he’s told himself that he is content to be friends with Link, he can’t help wanting him, not so soon. Thus his earlier attempts to avoid him.
Link looks stern. Determined, maybe. Why, Sidon has no idea.
Link reaches into a bag he has slung over one shoulder that Sidon had almost entirely ignored in favor of admiring the rest of his outfit, and holds out - something.
“For you,” Link says after a moment. Whatever it is he’s holding is made out of metal and bone, it looks like.
“I see,” Sidon says, taking the proffered object. He finally realizes what he’s looking at: a set of armor, crafted out of scale and metal and bone - a breastplate and pauldrons, and a belt to match.
He stares down at Link, eyes widening. “For me?”
Link nods fiercely, never once breaking his gaze. His expression is set; hopeful but determined.
“This is - but yesterday, you said …”
“Yesterday?”
“You did not … I gave chase and you let me catch you, but you didn’t let me bite,” Sidon says. “I thought you were not - that you did not -“
Link frowns. “I thought the chase part was what was important. That’s what Zelda told me, anyway.”
“What Zelda …” Sidon shakes his head, baffled. “I have no idea what you mean. But you have given me armor. Is. My friend, I must ask - you know what this means, yes? You know why Mipha crafted armor for you. While it is not exactly traditional to present armor to a prince, it is … still a very significant gesture, I think; you must know what this looks like.”
“Yes.” Link nods again. He reaches for the armor, even though Sidon’s already holding the pieces. “Can I put it on you?”
“You mean to court me.”
“Yes,” Link says. “The princess gave me advice, but neither of us knows much about Zora courtship. She knew more than me, at least. So she said to make you the armor. And she told me about the chasing thing.”
“Ah,” Sidon says. He casts his eyes skyward, fins drooping slightly. He’s been such a fool. “You don’t know about Zora courtship.”
“Not really.”
“I have been trying to impress you for days.”
Link starts laughing, though he stops on seeing Sidon’s resultant expression. He’s still smiling, though, as he says, “So have I.”
“Ah.” Link’s laughter makes sense, now. Sidon finds himself laughing too, somewhat helpless, but grateful. He bends down, and - feeling brave again - pulls Link into a hug. Link clings to him in return, pulling away only a little so he can look up at Sidon.
“So you’ll wear the armor I made you?”
“Of course, my friend! It is wonderful. Truly beautiful work. You made this yourself?”
“Well, I had help from Dento.” Link shrugs, his face going that odd red color again. Sidon will have to ask what that’s meant to evoke, at some point. In context he can’t imagine it’s meant as a threat. “I made it from metal gathered all across Hyrule. Bones from those Lizalfos we killed. And, ah.” He taps at part of the breast plate, which is made from a strange, gleaming green material. “Scale.”
“This is a scale, too?” Parts of the armor are clearly made from tanned lizalfos hide, but he can’t imagine what would have such a large scale.
Link nods. “Naydra’s.”
“Naydru.” Sidon repeats that under his breath a few times. “Naydra, as in the dragon.”
“Yes.”
“The dragon this festival honors.”
Link tilts his head to the side, ears pinned back for a moment, then nods again, face even redder now. “Apparently!”
“I am touched beyond measure, my dear friend,” Sidon says, surprising even himself with how quiet he is. “My dear Link.”
“Sidon.” Link touches a hand to his own face, chewing at his knuckles for a moment in an odd, nervous gesture. “Do, um. I’ve already proven I don’t know much about Zora courtship, but - I really like you. Do Zoras kiss? Can I kiss you?"
Sidon laughs, and then proves to Link that, for all their differences, there are some gestures that Zora and Hylians share that can’t be misinterpreted.