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The battle against Ganon was won, and his sister, Mipha, could finally rest in peace. The past few months had been a whirlwind of repairs to Zora’s Domain and the development of a memorial area in Mipha’s honor. As the future king, Sidon found the work grueling but fulfilling; the domain was breathing again, the sound of chisels against luminous stone echoing through the domain like a heartbeat. The heavy rains that once plagued the region had cleared, replaced by a crisp, mist-heavy air that smelled of moss and ancient stone.
Today he could barely contain his excitement, and it wasn’t because of the masonry or the plumbing going according to plan. King Dorephan informed him that Princess Zelda and Link were arriving to provide updates on their research and to strengthen the bonds between the hylians and the zora. Sidon always cherished Link’s visits, though the hero’s free time had become a rare luxury since the Princess’s return. Every letter from the hylian campsite was a treasure, but seeing the man in person was a restorative force for Sidon, one he looked forward to with a fervor that often left him restless at night.
When he spotted the two familiar figures approaching the Great Zora Bridge, Sidon’s composure broke. He bounded forward to meet them, his golden eyes shining, his heavy footsteps echoing rhythmically against the bridge’s crystalline surface.
“Princess Zelda! Link! I am overjoyed to see you have arrived safely!” He greeted them with a grin so bright it rivaled the sun’s reflection along the water, striking his signature pose with a flex of his arm and a flash of his teeth.
“Hello, Prince Sidon,” Zelda replied, smiling warmly. She looked weary from travel, her clothes dusty from the road, yet her spirit seemed lighter than it had been in the legends. “It is wonderful to see you looking so well. The Domain looks more beautiful with every visit.”
“But of course! And my father has been eagerly awaiting your arrival; he’s ready to receive you the moment you are ready!”
“Thank you. I hope our visit isn’t a burden during such a busy time,” Zelda added, offering a subtle, apologetic bow.
“Not at all! The entire Domain is thrilled! My people speak of nothing else!” Sidon nodded confidently. He turned to Link, and the two men shared a silent, knowing nod of mutual respect. To Sidon, that nod always felt like a secret language, a bridge between a zora and a hylian who carried the weight of the past. “I shall lead you to the throne room. Please, follow me.”
The hylians followed the eager Prince across the long span. Link walked with his usual calm demeanor, his hand resting habitually on the hilt of the Master Sword, while Zelda’s eyes darted about, admiring the resilience of the ancient architecture. She noted the way the zora had integrated new luminous stones into the old foundations, blending the old world with the new. However, as they reached the base of the stairs leading to the throne room, Zelda paused.
“Hold on a moment,” she said. “Link, come here, your hair is a mess.”
Zelda reached out, her fingers deftly smoothing the blonde strands that had been tossed by the mountain winds. She tucked a stray lock behind his ear with a familiarity that made Sidon’s breath hitch. “I know you’re all old friends, but you cannot enter a throne room looking like you just wrestled a Lynel; we represent the crown today.” She informed Link as her hands kept moving.
Link stood perfectly still, squinting slightly as Zelda adjusted his hair and straightened the collar of his tunic. He leaned into her touch almost imperceptibly, a practiced gesture—one born of a century of shared history and countless nights spent huddled around the same campfire.
Sidon watched them, a strange, sharp pulse echoing in his chest. It wasn't just the intimacy; it was the ease of it. He closed his fist, his scales tightening as a cold realization washed over him. Compared to them, he was a giant of a man, yet he felt small in the shadow of their shared bond. It was a simple touch, yet it felt like a barrier he could never cross—a silent reminder that while he was Link's ally, Zelda was his home.
Zelda stepped back, satisfied, smoothing a wrinkle in Link's cloak one last time. “There, much better. My apologies, Prince Sidon, we can continue.”
“V-very good,” Sidon managed, his smile feeling heavy and strained, like a mask that no longer fit. He turned and led them into the presence of the King, his movements stiff. “Father! Princess Zelda and Link have arrived!”
King Dorephan’s booming voice filled the chamber, vibrating through the water-filled pools that lined the room. “Ahh, Princess Zelda, Link! It warms my heart to see you in such health. I hope the journey wasn't too difficult; the weather has been quite unpredictable in the uplands.”
“It was a pleasant journey, Your Highness,” Zelda replied, her voice carrying the poise of a reborn kingdom.
As the formal pleasantries continued, Dorephan’s gaze drifted to his son. Sidon was standing rigid, his gaze fixed on a distant point on the floor, his expression uncharacteristically somber. The usual spark in his eyes had been replaced by a clouded, pensive look. “Sidon? Is there a matter you wish to discuss?”
Sidon was startled, snapping back to attention with a sharp intake of breath. He bowed low, his silver jewelry clinking softly. “Forgive me, Father. I know you wished for me to attend this meeting, but there is a pressing matter regarding the reservoir that requires my immediate attention. I fear I must depart.”
Dorephan sensed the distress in his son’s voice, but through his wisdom, he knew that it was a matter that went beyond the reservoir. He saw the way Sidon avoided Link's gaze and the way Link's brow furrowed in quiet concern. Though the King wished to reach out, he had a kingdom to represent and a diplomatic mission to honor. “I understand. You are dismissed, attend to your duties, my son.”
Sidon offered the two hylians a sheepish, fleeting smile—one that didn't reach his eyes—before turning away. Despite what he mentioned to the king, he didn't head for the reservoir. Instead, he sought the high places, the areas where the spray of the water was thick enough to hide a man's face. He climbed the familiar waterfalls, his powerful form propelling him through the rushing currents until he wound through the high mountain paths. Finally, he reached a place of absolute solitude: the resting place of the Divine Beast Vah Ruta.
The massive mechanical beast sat silently within the reservoir, a silent sentinel of a war that had finally ended. Sidon sat at the water’s edge, watching the calming movement of the rippling waves. He didn't hate Zelda—it was impossible to hate someone so kind, someone who had suffered so much for the sake of Hyrule. He was simply envious; to be able to touch Link in such a casual, affectionate way... it was a closeness he realized he craved with every fiber of his being. He wanted to be the one to brush the dust from Link’s shoulders; he wanted to be the one who knew the exact way Link liked his hair kept.
What started as admiration for the hero’s strength and spirit had evolved into something much deeper, something that felt like a permanent tide pulling at his heart. He gazed into the water, seeing the reflection of the clear blue sky, which only served to remind him of the piercing blue of Link’s eyes. Sidon sighed, a heavy sound that disappeared into the spray of the waterfall. He was in love, and the fall had been much deeper than he’d realized. He wondered if Mipha had felt this same weight—this beautiful, terrifying ache of loving a Hylian whose life was but a flicker compared to their own.
After several moments to himself, soft footsteps crunched on the stone behind him. The sound was rhythmic and light, distinct from the heavy footfalls of a Zora warrior. Sidon didn't need to turn to know who it was. The Hylian approached with his usual quiet grace and knelt beside the Prince on the cold, damp ledge.
“What’s wrong?” Link asked. His voice was soft, barely rising above the sound of the falling water.
Sidon closed his eyes, leaning his head back. He loved Link’s voice; it was a shame the hero used it so sparingly, saving it for moments that truly mattered. He wanted to reply with honesty, to pour out the storm of jealousy and affection brewing inside him, but the truth felt too fragile to speak—like a glass sculpture that would shatter the moment the wind changed.
“My apologies... friend,” Sidon said, the word friend tasting poorly in his mouth. “I’m not sure how to respond to your question.”
Link didn't press him, he wasn't a man of many words. He simply sat there, watching the sunlight dance on the surface of the East Reservoir Lake. Sidon looked at him—the way the light caught his pale skin and made his blonde hair look like spun gold against the dark stone behind him. He wondered if Link knew how beautiful he was, or if he only saw himself as a weapon for the princess. Terrified of ruining the peace they all fought so hard for, Sidon looked away, his cheeks darkening with a violet flush.
He rested his hand on the cold stone between them, his fingers twitching. Slowly, tentatively, he shifted his hand just an inch closer to Link. It was a tiny gesture, but for Sidon, it felt like a leap from a mountain peak into an unknown sea.
Then a moment later, he felt it. A small, warm sensation moving against his skin.
Link’s fingers glided over Sidon’s, cautious and light at first, as if testing the current. Sidon’s heart hammered against his ribs, a frantic drumming that he feared Link could hear. He remained still, barely daring to breathe, afraid that any sudden movement would break the spell and return them to their reality.
Finally, Link slid his hand fully into Sidon’s, weaving their fingers together. The contrast was striking—Link's hand was small, calloused from the sword, and warm, while Sidon’s was large, rough, and cool to the touch. Link didn't change his expression, but the tips of his ears were stained a distinct, tell-tale red. Sidon felt a rush of pure, unadulterated joy as he gently tightened his grip, holding on for as long as Link allowed.
“I’ve known for a while,” Link said suddenly. He turned his head slightly, finally meeting Sidon’s gaze, his voice was steady despite the blush.
“H-huh? Truly? Since when?” Sidon stammered, his regal poise completely vanishing.
A ghost of a smile played at the corners of Link’s mouth before he turned back to the horizon. “Since the day we took back Ruta. You aren't as subtle as you think, Sidon.”
Sidon felt a surge of hope so powerful it made his head swim. He leaned in, the height difference between them making the movement look like a great tree bending in the wind. He reached out with his free hand to gently cup Link's cheek, his large palm covering nearly half of the hero's face. He used his thumb to turn Link's face toward him. He wanted to see those eyes, completely.
Link’s face turned, looking uncharacteristically coy, his blue eyes searching Sidon’s with an expectant, nervous light. Sidon’s thumb brushed the hero's cheek, feeling the soft skin on his fingers. The world seemed to shrink until the sound of the waterfall faded, leaving nothing but the two of them and the beating of their hearts.
“Link... may I?” Sidon whispered, his voice cracking with emotion.
Link didn’t respond, he simply leaned forward, rising slightly on his knees to close the distance. The zora prince exhaled a shaky, heated breath as their lips finally met.
The kiss was soft, warm, and tasted of the mountain air. Link let out a small, muffled sound against Sidon's mouth—a sound of relief—and Sidon felt his heart soar higher than any rito could fly. He gripped slightly harder onto Link’s fingers, pulling him closer, desperately wanting to anchor himself to this moment, to this man, to this feeling.
When they eventually pulled apart, Link was breathless, his chest heaving slightly. A genuine, soft smile graced his lips. It wasn't the polite smile he gave the zora council, or the satisfied smile he gave after a good meal; it was something private, vulnerable; something just for Sidon.
The moment was perfect—the sun was setting, casting long, orange shadows across the water—until a loud, prolonged rumble echoed from Link’s stomach, vibrating through his very core.
Link’s brow furrowed in immediate betrayal, and he placed a hand over his midsection, looking down at his stomach as if it were an enemy combatant.
“Hahaha!” Sidon’s booming laugh returned, echoing off the walls of the reservoir and shattering the lingering tension. “I suppose it’s a very long walk from the hylian camp to the domain!” He spoke, a bright, confident grin returning to his face.
Link nodded, his smile widening into a rare, toothy grin. He looked younger in that moment, stripped of the burden of the prophecy.
“How about we do some fishing, Link? I know a spot down a nearby river where the hearty bass practically jump into your hands!” Sidon suggested.
Link nodded and they walked toward the rivers that surrounded Zora’s Domain, their fingers remaining tightly intertwined with neither of them willing to let go. And for the first time in a hundred years, the world felt like it really would be completely alright.