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From childhood, some part of Zelda had always understood that the labels “girl” and “princess” did not always fit them. Those words stuck to Zelda’s skin like wet clothes too small, dressings they had outgrown that now constricted the air from their lungs. But being a girl was proper, it was expected, and Zelda had duties in accordance with those expectations. Besides, the label fit comfortably enough for them to live with it, at least some of the time.
But when the kingdom fell apart around them, when Ganondorf claimed the Triforce and turned the land to ruin, Zelda was thrust into a new set of expectations, a new label to confine themselves to for fear of being discovered. They abandoned their name and their lineage, for mere mention of it came with the risk of exposing them. Impa granted them the name “Sheik,” explaining that they would have to live as a boy, as her nephew, until the time came to seal away the evil that plagued the land. This came along with an explanation of their duties as a sage, their fate as the holder of the Triforce of Wisdom, and how they would aid the Hero of Time in their quest.
Sheik barely listened the first time around, after she explained he would live as a boy. A boy. He smiled despite himself, despite everything that had happened to come to this. He no longer had to live as though he were a girl, despite how ill the word fit him. He was a boy, and he was surprised how long it had taken him to realize, how long it had taken him to accept it. He was a boy, and he wondered how he would live with it if sealing away Ganondorf meant having to pretend to be a girl once more.
Impa taught him Sheikah magic to disguise his voice and his face, and Sheik stared into the blood red eyes of his new reflection, feeling right with himself in ways he never had before.
Despite Sheik’s joy at realizing he was a boy, it soon became apparent even that label did not fit, at least part of the time. Sometimes she was a girl, and sometimes he was a boy, and sometimes neither label fit. There were days where she longed to be Zelda again, and there were days where he couldn’t imagine being anyone but Sheik.
They spent their days training with Impa and traveling from town to town, gathering information from the inhabitants, and stealing away in the dead of night without leaving evidence they were there. They often thought this transient lifestyle was fitting for someone who couldn’t pin down their own identity for more than a few days.
Months passed, and then years. Sheik’s skills in combat and with Sheikah magic progressed greatly, although they still could not surpass Impa’s prowess. Impa would occasionally teach them words and phrases in the Sheikah language, and Sheik quickly picked them up. Most of their time had to be spent training, though, as progressing without the proper skills could prove fatal for them. The moment when the Hero of Time would awaken neared, although it was still months away when Sheik finally worked up the courage to ask Impa the question that had been on their mind for a long time.
“Impa, what do you…?” Sheik hesitated, unable to look at her. The day before, she was certain she was a girl. Today, he was undoubtedly a boy.
Impa looked up from cleaning her weapons and equipment. They had taken shelter from a storm in a cave just north of Gerudo Valley, and a fire flickered between them, casting light onto both their faces. “Go on.”
Sheik grimaced, trying to find the right words to say. “Impa… Is it possible for one’s gender to… change?”
Impa stared at him, and Sheik regretted ever speaking. He squirmed under her gaze uncomfortably and wished to the Three that she would say anything, anything at all that wasn’t a complete condemnation. And then, she spoke. “Sheik… I am uncertain as to how to explain this to you. Hylian language is… limited, to say the least, when it comes to these sorts of things.”
Sheik gazed at her questioningly. She stood up and walked over to him, kneeling next to him to ensure her words were heard. She closed her eyes, searching for the right words to say. “Sheikah never gender their children until they are old enough to decide for themselves. I am unsure why Hylians do, when doing so is almost certain to cause confusion and pain in the children who find the gender assigned to them does not fit.” She pursed her lips, before continuing. “By Hylian standards, I would have been labeled a boy at birth, even though that is incorrect.”
Sheik’s eyes widened in surprise. He never imagined there would be other people like him. But he knew Impa, and she was always a woman, unlike Sheik, who never fit the same gender for more than a week. And he couldn't help wondering if there was something wrong with that. Impa seemed to sense his growing anxiety and placed a reassuring hand on his shoulder before continuing. “Sheik… Do you feel like the label given to you at birth is incorrect?”
Sheik hesitated, before nodding. “Sometimes, I do. Right now, I am a boy, and I know that to be true. But…” Sheik’s voice trailed off, finding himself unable to continue.
“…But your gender changes. Is that correct?” Impa finished for him.
Sheik nodded, and cast his eyes downward.
Impa stood, and Sheik looked up wildly, almost panicking. “Don’t worry, I am just stretching my legs.” Sheik’s face flushed. He knew he shouldn’t take everything as a sign of rejection, especially from the woman who had taken care of him for most of his life.
Impa placed her hands on her hips. “The Sheikah have a word for something like this. I can see if I can give you an approximation of what the word means, if you’d like. It’s… mostly untranslatable.”
“Can you try?” Sheik asked, his voice wavering embarrassingly.
“A direct translation is ‘one who is like water.’”
Sheik’s head tilted in confusion.
Impa gave him a rare smile. She knelt down again in front of him. “It means one whose gender changes. One whose identity flows and adapts, and never stagnates, like a stream or a river. Do you feel like this fits you?”
It did. And for the first time in Sheik’s entire life, they finally had a label that fit. Sometimes, she was a girl, and sometimes he was a boy, and sometimes neither of those labels fit. And knowing that no longer felt so isolating.
Sheik smiled. Even if defeating Ganondorf meant they would have to pretend like they were always a girl, they could live with it. Because they knew they were no longer alone.
And months later, when the Hero of Time took the first stumbling steps they had in seven years, and Sheik looked upon their face for the first time in what felt like ages, Sheik vowed they’d never let Link feel as alone as they had pretending to be the Princess of Hyrule.
Even if they could only watch from the shadows.