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Once his father shut the door behind him, Fynn sighed. Now left alone in his bedroom, his mind can’t help but be sad. Sadness is all he can ever feel these days, because now that his dad was out on a mission again, so did this sorrow return.
Fynn remembers all the stories his hylian dad has told him.
Being left alone in what is now his bedroom, reminded him that this used to be his dad’s. Letting his eyes drag down to the floor as he thought of him telling that story again. The story of how his parents fell in love in this very room. He imagined how delicately his dad’s hands would sign, how magical his blue eyes seemed when he was younger.
He misses those times so much. When the weight of becoming a proper prince didn’t rest so heavily on his shoulders. When all he would do is play with his parents. When he and his father were close and when time came slow.
He loves his zora father, of course. He knows about all the things he’s helped his dad through, just how compassionate and loving he is with anyone. He knows these things and tries reminding himself about them whenever he loses sight he of it. His father didn’t ask to become the king, just as much as Fynn didn’t ask to become the prince.
But sometimes he selfishly wished that his father wasn’t of royalty. Some nights he begged to be born half of any other race but zora. Anyone else’s son but Sidon’s.
He hated how he looked more like his father. Because on the outside, at first glance, Fynn looks nothing less of a zora. He had scales, sharp teeth, sharp nails, and pointed pupils for eyes. Defining traits that belonged to the race of his father.
If one were to know him, to understand his hylian half, they’d see nothing but his dad instead. Those scales were a modest gold, he had thick aquatic hair, and his eyes glowed blue like his dad’s.
Fynn wonders often just how much different his life would be if only he had presented more hylian. If only he had to explain his zora half to the kids at school. Maybe getting the pleasure of boasting about his kingly father, instead of it already being well known. No one here asks about his dad, mentions how incredible he is, or gives him any credit for truly being an inspiration. Fynn’s biggest inspiration.
He hoped to someday make his dad proud. He didn’t care about being the prince of the zora, or the son of King Sidon, no, none of that mattered to him. The only thing he’s ever wanted was to be seen as himself.
And only one of his parents was able to do that for him, the one that was, more often than not, out of reach. Truly longing to be with the only one that’s ever cared, his eyes spilled a drop.