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If this were a hundred years ago, Zelda would be pissed that Dorephan asked Link to fix the Divine Beast instead of her. If this were a hundred years ago, Zelda would be pissed that the Zora all defer to him in general.
(If this were a hundred years ago, Link would be dead.)
Now, a hundred years later, Link is alive and Zelda is so relieved Dorephan asked him to fix Ruta, because she has no clue where to start.
“It’ll be easier if we take a look tomorrow,” Link tells her. They’re still in the throne room, which means Muzu is still slack-jawed, staring at her like he thinks she’s going to kill him. “We’ve been traveling for hours, and the sun is setting. We need rest.”
He says it like he’s trying to convince her.
(A hundred years ago, he’d have to.)
“Sure,” she smiles at him. “Lead the way to the inn."
“Oh, no, Princess,” Dorephan draws their attention. “You’re an esteemed guest. You two will be staying up here.”
Zelda’s smile dies.
“Up here?” Link frowns. “The only beds are at the inn, Your Majesty.”
“No,” Zelda breathes. Her insides go cold. “There’s a bed here.”
“Father,” Sidon stares up at the king. “Are you sure?”
“Yes, Sidon,” Dorephan nods. “Show our guests to their quarters.”
“But-!”
“Now, Prince Sidon.”
Sidon closes his mouth, sighing. He seems to collect himself before turning to Zelda and Link with a strained smile. “Follow me, friends.”
(The prince doesn’t like her. None of the Zora do.)
“Where are we going?” Link whispers in her ear as they follow the prince behind the throne to the staircase that leads up to the room she’s dreading to see. “Since when are there stairs here?”
“There have always been stairs here, Link,” Zelda whispers back, her heart pounding in her chest as they start to ascend. “I think you were a little too preoccupied with saving Hyrule to notice.”
“Sure, but stairs that lead into the huge fish statue on top of the throne room? I crawled all over it looking for a Korok and didn’t find any entrance!”
(Zelda never thought Dorephan would ever suggest defiling this room. Unless he’s punishing her for Mipha? For making he and his people afraid for a reason she doesn’t even know?)
Sidon leads them up into a bedroom Zelda recognizes the moment she steps off of the top stair.
“Here we are,” he presents the room with a stilted flourish.
“Sidon,” she breathes, forgoing the use of his title.
The bed in the corner is pristinely made, the windows-the eyes of the fish-are covered by a thin curtain, and there’s a mount for her trident on the wall next to the wardrobe, empty. And her desk-The desk-
“What?” Link frowns, glancing between them. “What’s wrong?”
(What an awful joke that is, that Link doesn’t even remember the room of his childhood friend, a room that, arguably, he’s spent more time in than anyone.)
“This is Mipha’s bedroom,” Zelda whispers.
It’s exactly how Mipha left it the day the Calamity struck. She knows this because the Champions were supposed to meet her and Link at the base of Mount Lanayru at sunrise, but Mipha had asked to see them at the Domain beforehand.
The Zora Champion had greeted them in a flurry of excitement, wide awake despite how early in the morning it was, and dragged them up to this room.
I know we’re all supposed to be focusing on your pilgrimage to the Spring of Wisdom, she had said to her, her soft, melodic voice a rush of words, But it’s still your birthday, and I hope you don’t mind that I made you a gift.
Zelda had been too distracted by Link’s closeness to really pay attention.
(They had slept together for the first time the night before. Her hands were itching to touch him again, an urge unbecoming of her on what was the most important day of her life.)
Mipha had opened up a drawer in her desk and pulled out a glowing bracelet.
I crafted it from luminous stone and emeralds, she had said, offering it. I think it’ll bring out your eyes and match that dress you wore at the banquet.
Zelda had taken it, gushing over its beauty and thanking Mipha relentlessly.
We can come back for it after the spring, Link had murmured, head tilted as he listened to the voice in the Master Sword. Apparently it could interfere with the spiritual energy or something.
Oh, Link, Mipha’s voice had gotten even quieter. I-I have a gift for you, too.
Link had smiled at the other princess. Mipha, you didn’t have to-
Yes, I did, Mipha’s eyes had flicked nervously to Zelda before she continued, But it’s something I’d like to give to you in private. Tonight, maybe? At our spot? Though I know when Zelda unlocks her power there’ll be a frenzy-
Yeah, Link had nodded. Tonight is fine. We don’t head back to the castle until tomorrow morning either way.
(And, well. Everyone knows what happened next.)
The bracelet is still sitting on the abandoned desk, covered in a thin layer of dust, forgotten by time.
Zelda thought about that bracelet every day in the sanctum. She thought about Mipha, about the advice she was trying to give moments before everything went to hell.
(The Calamity told her it did that on purpose, cutting Mipha off, because if she finished her sentence, Zelda would have unlocked her power hours earlier and they would’ve had a fighting chance.)
“Zelda?” Link’s fingers brush the back of her hand.
She blinks, looking at him. Sidon is gone, some candles are lit, and they’re alone in a dead girl’s room.
(She still doesn’t know what Mipha was trying to say at the base of Mount Lanayru.)
There’s concern in Link’s eyes when he asks, “Where did you go?”
“I...” Zelda swallows. “We were the last people in here when Mipha was alive. The bracelet on the desk, she made me that for my birthday. I was just...remembering, I suppose.”
He glances around the room as he walks over and picks up the bracelet. He blows the dust off, looking down at it. “What are the green gems?”
“Emeralds. They used to be found in Akkala, but the Guardians wiped out any reserves.”
“Why?”
She shrugs. “We never knew its uses other than jewelry.”
He continues to look at it, rubbing his thumb over the emeralds, and the Master Sword hums on his back.
Zelda, for the first time, sees the moment he’s sucked into a vision. His pupils dilate, his thumb stills, and he exhales, his breath leaving his body in a slow, quiet sigh as his blue eyes gleam in the dark.
(To her knowledge, it’s his first vision since his…What did he call it? His ’Bad Day’?)
Unsure of what state he’ll return in, Zelda pulls out the chair to Mipha’s desk and gently sits him down, taking the bracelet from his hands and placing it back where they found it. She kneels before him and watches his gleaming eyes, unable to stop herself from being fascinated by the way his pupils change, reacting to light that only exists in his memory.
Eventually, his pupils return to their normal size. His eyes lose their gleam. He blinks, looks down at her, and whispers, “Sorry.”
“Where did you go?” she echoes.
“Here, a hundred years ago. Mipha gave you the bracelet and said she had a gift for me, too.”
(That’s the first time they remembered something together. It makes her chest feel warm.)
“Are you all right?”
“Fine,” he nods, smiling a little. “The Master Sword actually asked if it could show me instead of just throwing me in.”
(If this were a hundred years ago, Zelda would be seething with jealousy about the fact that he can hear the voice again while she’s still deaf to it.)
“That’s good at least,” she smiles back, getting to her feet.
(Now, she’s happy she can’t hear it anymore. That’s one less spirit giving her a responsibility she doesn’t want.)
“I’ve always wondered what she wanted to give you,” she continues. “Maybe we can find it in here?”
“I think I already have it,” Link says, taking the slate off his hip. “I left it at the house, but there’s a picture of it in the compendium.”
She stands beside him, looking at the screen over his shoulder.
He pulls up a picture of himself in full Zoran armor, and Zelda’s heart stops.
“The armor…” Oh, Mipha. “She wanted to-”
“I would’ve hated having to tell her no,” Link breathes. “Is it wrong of me to say I’m relieved we both died?”
Zelda can’t help the laughter that bubbles in her throat.
“I’m sorry,” she manages, giggling. “It’s just-It’s so ironic-“
(It’s so ironic. If Mipha were alive and Link rejected her proposal, Zelda knows she would want to die from embarrassment, but Mipha really is dead, and-)
“It fits you perfectly,” she tells him, trying to catch her breath. “She asked me for the measurements of the Champion’s tunic, once, and I wasn’t sure why, but now I know.”
(It’s just funny. It has to be.)
What’s not funny is the fact that they have to sleep in Mipha’s bed.
It feels wrong. It feels…sacrilegious, somehow; It’s outright disrespectful.
(Dorephan is definitely punishing her for getting his daughter killed. She can’t blame him.)
To keep the bed as unbothered as possible, they decide to sleep on top of the covers. Zelda at first suggests sleeping on the floor, but Link points out that if they do they’ll be at each other’s throats in the morning, and also refutes her second idea of sneaking down to the inn because, if they’re caught, her standing in Dorephan’s good graces is at risk.
“Are you sure I’m in his good graces?” Zelda gingerly sits on the edge of Mipha’s bed, kicking off her boots and massaging her sore feet, cursing herself for forgetting her old boots at the Spring of Wisdom because these new ones are taking forever to break in.
“Well, I am,” Link leans the Master Sword against the wall, takes off his shirt, and steps out of his boots, sitting next to her. “I figured you were by association?”
“Did you see the way everyone looked at me?” she leans her head on his shoulder, intertwining their fingers. “Mipha aside, I don’t know what I did wrong.”
“Honestly, I don’t think you did anything.”
“So, what? It’s not me, it’s them?”
He shrugs. “Maybe. I’ll ask Sidon tomorrow.”
To say it keeps her up at night is an understatement. Long after Link has draped his Hylian Hood over them for a makeshift blanket and fallen asleep with an arm slung over her waist, Zelda is wide awake and staring at the empty trident mount, her thoughts running in endless circles.
(She needs to talk it out. That’s how she solved all of her problems once upon a time.)
Link hums in his sleep, squeezing her a little.
(She doesn’t want to wake him, no one in the Domain will talk to her, and she can’t hear the Master Sword.)
Zelda carefully extracts herself from his arms, slipping out of bed and pulling her boots back on, sneaking to the stairs leading down to the throne room.
(Mipha always gave her the best advice.)
The Master Sword hums against the wall, and Zelda holds her breath.
Link stirs, muttering, but doesn’t wake.
“Let him sleep,” she whispers to the sword. “I’ll be right back.”
It pulses.
She descends the stairs to the empty throne room-where does Dorephan sleep?-and walks to the outer palace.
Mipha’s statue is still lit, illuminating the central platform and the few Zora still gathered before her.
Zelda walks down the curved staircase, dragging her hand along the cool banister, and as soon as her foot hits the platform the Zora notice her and scatter.
(At least she’ll never have to ask to be alone.)
She stands before Mipha’s statue, staring into her friend’s blank eyes.
“I…” Zelda swallows, fiddling with her hands. “I’ve spoken to statues my whole life, but right now I don’t quite know what to say.”
(Granted, most if not all of her “conversations” with Hylia involved a lot of crying, screaming, and cursing.)
“Link told me you’re all still with him,” she says. “Or, you were a few months ago on Blatchery Plain. Who knows about now.”
(Selfishly, she wishes the Champions still have unfinished business, wishes that their spirits are restless, because if they’re restless they’re here, ready to protect Link when she can’t.)
The moonlight reflects off of the marble Lightscale Trident.
(If the Champions are still here, maybe she can see them again.)
“Why are they afraid of me?” Zelda asks, her voice just above a whisper. “What can I do to make it right?”
Just ask them, Mipha would tell her. They won’t bite.
“They think I will.” She must look crazy talking to herself- “I don’t believe I’ll get a straight answer.”
Ask anyway, The Champion would retort.
(Mipha was usually right.)
“Princess?”
(A hundred years ago, Mipha was everything Zelda wasn’t. She had her magic, she had the love of her people, and, most importantly, she had the love of her father.)
“Princess Zelda?”
(Where Zelda failed, Mipha excelled. It always made her jealous.)
“Princess Zelda!”
(Now, she’s guilty for all of the pointless time she spent resenting the Zora princess for her own failure. She’s guilty for sending her friend, the better version of herself, Mipha, to her death.)
A hand grabs her shoulder.
(The Calamity had her half-convinced that deep down, she wanted Mipha to die. It took her ten years to fight through the malice fogging her mind and remember that she loved her.)
Zelda looks up and into Prince Sidon’s yellow eyes.
“Oh,” she breathes, blinking back the sting of tears. “I’m sorry, Prince Sidon, I didn’t hear you.”
Sidon stares down at her. “Is everything all right?”
“Yes.”
The prince continues to stare.
Zelda faces Mipha again. “I’m just…reminiscing.”
“Ah,” Sidon lets go of her shoulder. “I understand. I’m sorry to interrupt.”
“It’s all right,” she reassures. “What are you doing out here so late?”
“I…” he trails off. “I came to…reminisce as well.”
“Would you like me to leave?”
(She doesn’t know how to treat him. Does she talk to him like Zelda or like Princess Zelda? Which version of her does he even remember, the Zelda that splashed around with him in shallow ponds or the Princess Zelda that spoke with Mipha about their fathers over stuffy meals?)
“No,” he finally answers. “I quite like the company, actually. It’s too lonely when it’s just her and I.”
Zelda understands. She’s been alone with ghosts for a long time.
They stand together, silent, staring at his dead sister.
“We fear you because you’re the one that killed the Calamity,” The prince suddenly whispers. “You have Hylia’s blood in your veins. To us, you might as well be her.”
Zelda goes still.
“The majority of my people were not kind to Link when he arrived. They knew he was the Chosen Hero, they knew he was your divine soldier, deserving of the utmost respect, and yet they were not kind.”
Mipha’s empty eyes gaze down at them.
“You showing up after the death of the Calamity, if you were even alive, was inevitable. I told everyone not to worry, that you and Link are our friends, but that did nothing to quell the fear. Ruta’s malfunctions didn’t help, either.”
“You all thought I came here to punish you,” Zelda realizes. “For disrespecting Link. You thought I broke Ruta?”
“You are Hylia, and he is your soldier,” Sidon clasps his hands behind his back. “Us Zora have never been very spiritual, at least not until now, when we thought your wrath was on the horizon and that Ruta was an omen of our demise. It’s shocking, what facing certain death does to a people, the spirits we pray to. My sister, as you know, is a very popular choice.”
(Where did this Sidon come from? He is nothing like she remembers, and nothing like Link described.)
She looks up at him. “If it makes you feel any better, my power is fading. I can’t summon it at will. So even if I was a vengeful goddess I couldn’t do anything, much less influence a Divine Beast.”
He nods. Again, they stand in silence.
“Mipha would be proud of you,” she tells him after a while. “Very proud.”
A soft, gentle smile graces Prince Sidon’s lips. “Thank you, Princess Zelda. It sounds more truthful coming from you.”
(Link wasn’t kidding. It really is a great smile.)