Chapter Text
Link awakes.
Rubble lit from underneath in pale stringy light.
His brain matter moves languidly, his temples hot, inflamed and untenable.
There’s so much dust in his vision and as he shifts - he’s not sure how, he’s not told anything to move - it floats off into the air, fine powder intercepting the piercing glow. It’s too white, the wrong angle and the wrong consistency to be the light of day. He groans and wishes to fall back to unconciousness until his new irritating sun has set. Another surprise will be the end of him, he’s sure, and things that glow are always surprises. So few are nice ones. He blinks and shudders the rubble off.
Sidon’s eyes are glassy and vacant, and Link’s mind tumbles over itself in bland desperation.
The glow from the Master Sword that lights the tiny space renders red scale colourless.
It will be over soon, she says, unavailingly. He feels sick on the sword’s false comfort - to an ancient weapon, all lives, even the ones of its wielders, are quick and painful. His anger flares as his fingers trace under the bloody line the manacles have etched in Sidon’s neck, trying to find a pulse among the derelict curl of his chest. Nothing.
No snarl, no breath, no star-flecked eyes. Every drop of kindness exhausted.
Nothing.
One more light goes out in his soul.
Link drags himself to his feet and snatches his sword. The giant slab of ceiling has been merciful and landed almost directly on top of the Blightflower, trapping its remaining pulpy mass inside their new cage.
He doesn’t care.
He doesn’t care that he’s half dead.
He doesn’t fucking care if it kills him, or if it survives, he just wants to make it hurt .
The soles of his bare feet burn as he scrabbles among rubble and Malice, and swings, screaming his voice raw as each slash whips bile across the crumbled roof. The Blightflower whistles like a boiling kettle, hissing with steam as the Master Sword sings in jubilation. Rattling around in his head like a vagrant, every thought of Daruk, or Urbosa, or Revali -- how they laughed and how they died - and Sidon --
Nobody deserves to go out like this - Stuffed into a shithole, chained up like a beast, having poison injected into your veins whilst watching your people die around you - hung up like carcasses in a butchers. Alone for a century, rolling in filth and fury and completely friendless --
He sobs “You fucking Blighted him! -- He wasn’t even alive to me - another thing trying to kill everyone! I was wrong and-- He didn’t deserve it! He didn’t deserve it and now it’s too late and you’ve got to fucking die!”
The glare of the furious blade is so glorious that Link can see nothing but the waver of vermillion and sketchy shadows. It’s ugly and lamentful and violent. He mangles the Blightflower, its body multiplies, breaking into pustules and gumboils. Exploding over his arms, his hands, down his chest and blistering. Pointless misery winds around him. It took them all from him, and now it’s taken Sidon too -- he didn’t even get to know him properly --
How fucking dare it? How could it be so fucking evil?
The whistle pitches until Link can’t see anything but white noise and bloodthirsty fury, the tip of his sword feeling for flesh in the glare.
It could be hours or minutes, but by the last agonizing swing Link can manage, the sword blade is dim and all that’s left is lifeless ichor. He feels older, empty, stretched thin - like his ribcage is on full display and his organs are clinking together like windchimes. The Blightflower is a stump, oozing ash into the air in a final indignant cough.
He staggers and falls down, the Master Sword clattering out his grasp. Its voice whispers sweet nothings directly into his head. It tells him how well he’s done. How proud she is. He reaches and begs that she stay with him a little longer - don’t leave him in the dark--
Not alone, not again
He rests his head on the blade - watches her light go out, his tears mirrored in her steel as she fades. She’s not listening, she’s just laughing at him, off to sleep for another millennia to wait for some other Calamity - What use is being a sword of Evil’s bane if you can’t do good in the moment--? Everyone always dies - the raw flesh on his legs mattes with dirt as he scrambles at the last flecks of her glow.
I need you - I need you - don’t leave me - I can’t leave Sidon like this, I have to wash his body and prepare the rock and there’s no river and no more light --- Please! Please I can’t do this - I can’t do this alone again - I failed him and I can’t bury him - I can’t bury more friends - don’t leave me - don’t leave me--
He howls as his cave is plunged into absolute darkness.
He pushes her empty metal sheath away, crushing his forehead into the gravel. Raw and mangled fingernails. Convulsive sobs blocking his throat, his lungs, clawing at his scalp, the golden gerudo decorations tearing into his skin as they’re ripped out with clumps of hair still attached. It hurts, everything hurts, there’s nowhere to put the pain. It eats him whole, chewing on his insides and forcing him to choke on his knotted throat.
What is he going to tell Mipha? What’s he going to do?
There are no answers, nothing - nothing to make it better. No small salve or solution or quick-fix or fight to get through.
All he’s got - as he pulls what little of him matters back over to the wall, blindly feeling for Sidon’s body - is a pathetic apology.
“ I’m s-sorry - I’m sorry .” Link buries his anguish in the silent welcoming scale in the hollow of his neck. “I’m so sorry --” He once thought Sidon pitiable for washing the bodies of his people in the rain. All Link has is tears.
Acidic leftovers of Malice burn his ear, from where it coats Sidon’s neck thickly. Emanating from his mouth.
Link sobs and heaves and turns him to one side, holding a shoulder and struggling with what little strength is left to him. Maybe - maybe if he can get him cleaner - his best guess at ‘clean’ as he fumbles in the dark - maybe he’ll be forgiven. It makes no difference. It’s all he’s got - it’s all he can think of to--
His fingers latch on the gentle curve of gill in Sidon’s side, wiping away grime, catching on it with gnarled fingernails. It releases from suction with a pop, Malice cascading out.
Sidon coughs weakly.
Sidon coughs weakly.
Instantly Link is ablaze, lifting the other gills, ripping the desecrated silk off his lower half and scrabbling in the dark for the Tadpole’s vacant puddle somewhere down the wall. Wet silk and washing away Malice as Sidon wheezes and heaves, sitting up in the dark with the bile dripping from him like rain.
He’s alive he’s alive he’s alive --
His head is leant back and Link tries to get him to lie down, blindly following the chain to his neck and wiping his mouth and gills to better clear his airways. He’s alive - rasping with effort.
Link gulps down water and fumbles back to the Zora, breathing harshly through his nose, and kisses him deeply until the water runs down his chin and Sidon is drinking him down with relief. Again and again until their chests are soaked, until Sidon’s hands are around Link’s wrists and there’s a red glow haloing them both as Link kisses and shudders in desperte relief. Sidon’s eyes are lidded and gentle. Link goes back for the next mouthful and Sidon’s hands are too weak to hold him but he tries --
“L-...”
He accepts his mouth with a gorgeous soft glow, the Malice trailing off his stomach with spilt water. Link’s panic engulfs him. The Prince still tries to vocalise -
“L-L-”
Link can see the nook with Sidon’s glow. Not alone, not dark, not dead -- Alive - He’s got to help, got to stop all this nightmare from repeating -- The Zora won’t take anymore water, he’s trying to move, his chains are trapped under part of the cave-in, and the manacle slices his neck --
Link can’t move the rubble - his hands won’t grip anything and he’s shaking with mania - what if he can lockpick the restraints? He remembers the gold filigree he’s tugged out his hair, scrambling back with them and fumbling at the joins until each pathetic piece of metal is crumpled and he can’t see for tears -
“Li-L-Lin--k”
There’s not even a lock to pick -- he’s not thinking straight. He can keep the wounds clean until help comes - can clean the filth out and -- bare skin dyed dark with more water as he dabs weeping drops around his neck and wrists. His glow flickers and he can only gulp with worry and --
“Link.”
His voice is so close, deep and ragged even Link can hear it. He says it so finally, searing forward against the maximum stretch of his chains, a straining hand halting the Hylian’s panicked endeavours.
He looks down. He’s quaking violently - thin with frenzy.
“S-sto-p.”
Link shakes his head, his eyes so wide that he can barely see through the wave of water in them.
“Sto-p.”
Sidon’s other hand has to crawl up Link’s stomach over his scar to make it to his face. Even as he flinches away, Sidon’s lights don’t dim, insistent claws cup the line of his jaw, barely touching him. Bathed in red and--
It’s so alien, so strange.
They’re alive.
They’re alive
Link’s lips crash against Sidon’s and his breath comes in wet gasps and fitful sobs. The Zora’s poor bound hands hold his back, pawing against muscles in uncoordinated circles and scoring shivery nails across him.
You’ve done enough now. You can rest.
It’s sloppy, it’s choked and hurt and fitful but their lips meet over and over again in sharp relief, Link’s arms tangled around his neck between chain and tail and halting sniffles.
In the back of his mind, Link thinks of a corner of home, a shrine that holds Revali’s bow and Daruk’s sword and Urbosa’s shield and scimitar - and every part of him yearns in gratitude that no other object needs to be added to the pile. What would even be left? A manacle and a bucket in return for a hundred years of misery - Link wants to know Sidon better. Wants to find out if that kindness and ferocity still runs to the same depth in the sober light of day - wants to feel his skin and hold his gaze and call him friend, because kindness like his cannot be replicated. Every touch-starved receptor surges across his skin as Sidon kisses back - all teeth and torture.
When they break he can’t breathe, wound in turmoil but Sidon upends the rock on the chain that binds his wrist with a deep growl that rolls up Link’s body and holds them fiercely flush. Legs straddled hips and hands feeling blindly and the tickle of eyelashes on cheeks.
He’s naked - he forgot that he’d used his trousers to clean off the Zora, who trails across Link’s skin, lips leaving for a moment to bite over his heart and growl into his chest in a show of possessive care.
He’s got absolutely nothing. No weapon, no shield, no power, only the kind stranger held in his arms and the breath between his lips.
He hums with it, panting - high on hot air and pain and death-defying adrenaline. Sidon is suffering with it too as he heaves them both free of debris, on his knees and Link’s hips between them. The lights across Sidon’s body pulse rampantly, lights that Link’s never seen before - his yellow and azure fins painting shimmery water-reflections on the wall, whilst freckles of starlight flicker up his abdomen, perfectly responsive to Link’s every touch.
Heat pools down across his cheeks and swims lower. He’s seen that other Zora light up, but not like this - not clearly showing the glow of sheathed arousal behind snowy scales, both already engorged and threatening - lit from the inside. Link marvels. Sidon kisses him. He’s clawing his hands over the white underside of the Zora’s tail and kissing upwards - lips, luminescence, the patch of pink scale under his crown. He feels a shift between them and Sidon growls, teeth nicking his ear. Both cocks are free and tumescent, ridged and slick with natural lubrication, one above the other.
Sidon’s gold-flecked gaze isn’t expectant, nor pushy, his arousal isn’t shameful nor vulgar, it just is. Link doesn’t know how to feel except for the hot rolling flush careening up his spine at the magnificence --
He wants to feel. He wants to stop - like Sidon said - stop feeling, stop thinking - He’s got no answer and barely any strength left: nothing he can think of other than letting Sidon fuck him into the brickwork until they’re both blown and untouchable by frail actuality. He can regret it tomorrow, but they’ll both be alive, and glorious --
“Do you want me?” Link asks, probably sounding breathy and mad.
Sidon snarls, a rough hand pressing their cocks together with a force that blows the air out his lungs. He’s vibrating so much that Link has to bury his head in Sidon’s scale and bite down a debauched moan.
“Link.” He purrs against his jaw.
Fuck the consequences. He turns and leans back against Sidon’s chest. The size difference seems illogical, but he’s done stupider things and far crazier people -- he kneels and closes his thighs gently around the two massive cocks, borrowing the oil that coats them as Sidon growls salaciously in his ear. Rolling his hips, the friction catches Link by surprise and he’s quickly stroking and curling fingers into himself. Heaving with each drag of cock past sensitive skin and onto the next finger.
It’s carnal and impatient - Link manages down to his third knuckle when Sidon grabs his elbows and fucks between him harder, legs are coated in oil and the slap of flesh. Teeth sunk into his shoulder blade. He rips both arms out from Sidon’s grasp, pinning the Zora against the wall with his back and hooking the chains of the wrist manacles so he can’t move without Link’s permission. Then both hands are around the topmost cock and his own, stroking Sidon through thigh and thrust and fingers. Surging until he’s drowning in the quickening pulse of red light. Incandescent orange flares, and Sidon roars, slick coating Link’s fingers and the floor in front of them.
Link’s edging his muscles to clench and relax, knowing he’s not got enough adrenaline to withstand for much longer, high on Sidon’s rumble and red starfall dancing across his vision. He lets go of the chains and Sidon’s claws are on him, hefting him up by the thighs until he’s knelt on Sidon’s legs. His shoulder and throat both are savaged from behind. Link scoops oil from between his thighs and plunders into himself a final time. Sidon bites the shell of his ear and the muscle in his neck so hard that for a moment his brain shuts down, gasping.
He pants against Sidon’s cheek and runs a hand underneath his face fin, paradoxically gentle and boneless.
“Stay still for me. Don’t move, Sidon.”
Sidon purrs against his jugular and it travels all the way to his toes.
It takes a deep breath and leading Sidon’s arousal to his entrance for Link to look up. He swears in the rose-glow he sees gold irises there fixed on him, lucid with excitement, a playful murmur against Link’s temple.
He doesn’t tear his eyes away as his fingers tangle in Sidon’s chain, and, connected finally, with a skitter of his hips, they breathe together in prolonged shock. Sidon whimpers and buries himself in Link’s hair, already stuttering in excitement. Link, as slowly as his body will let him, leans back, hot breaths ghosting his back as he curls his hips -- holy fuck --
Sidon keens lowly into his neck, a fistful of Link’s thighs keeping them slow and concentrated, trying to find a pocket of himself to relax that Sidon’s not already filled.
Boiling from the inside out. Caressing his insides. Nearly sheathed to the hilt.
Sidon teeths Link's feverish skin. He gasps and rakes nails down Sidon’s arms.
“Ready. Ah, I’m ready.” He whispers, fingers closing around metal for reassurance.
When Sidon moves, Link can taste his colours.
Ridges inside brushing with every drag - Sidon’s hips smacking deliciously against his, wound up to brashness with each lustrous moan torn out. He’s rendered boneless, only barely held suspended by claws and chain and cock--
Sidon’s roar is vicious in the hollow of his throat, and Link's spinning, choked with fullness. He releases one white knuckle grip to take hold of his own arousal, and Sidon’s hand closes around his as he does. The pace is breakneck until Link feels all the ridges withdraw and slam back in and Sidon’s teeth clamp over his pulse and suck.
The red light shorts to perfect white and Link’s screaming as Sidon pulls at him, everything arching - superheated. Running up his back and down his thighs. Link’s held and used as Sidon rides into him, fucking the final wracks of his orgasm out of him, snarling around his juddering neck.
Link watches in spent fascination, fucked halfway to Hylia, as Sidon’s eyes burn, from blown starlit black to ringed gold.
He’s beautiful, Link decides.
He doesn’t feel the pain from his acid burnt skin or cracked bones, nor hear the usual insistent voice in his head.
Just the twinge of overused bliss and Sidon’s breath on him with feral care. Wound together haphazardly.
He feels safe.
******
Link awakes.
His shoulders ache and the morning light is soft and agreeable. There’s excitable chatter somewhere close by, but the noise is low and comforting. His skin is healed, unscarred, and unbroken. Mipha’s work. The only hint that something amiss is the deep sear in his abdomen and the presence of something wild and unfathomable glowing in his chest.
He sits and looks. A pile of pillows supports every spare facet of his body, nested in comfort. He’s...he’s not under the rubble - not in the arena...mild panic settles as dull ache lances up his spine. Nope. Sidon and he, hot with desperation and glowing cocks and... definitely not a dream.
The Blightflower is dead.
The Children are alive.
Sidon is alive.
Zelda’s sat on the edge of the nest reading a book, lost in its pages. They’re in one of her rooms. Link doesn’t disturb her. He just stares. Her fingernails are bloody and there’s dirt all over her tunic. He imagines digging them out must have been excruciating. It’s just like her not to rely on the Gorons to do the work for her.
The thought makes him feel filthy and pent as he imagines them all working so hard whilst he’s debauching himself several feet below. He wonders if she knows what they were doing, or if he should feel more ashamed about it, but nobody’s looking right now. He gets to find that out later. He hopes she didn’t find him like that, all used up and freshly fucked.
“Zelda,” he eventually says, “You alright?”
She spins, the pillow pinging out from under her.
“Oh thank the gods! I’d thought you were braindead! Everyone else told me I was worrying too much--” She shoots forward and cuddles him fiercely, then shoves him backward onto his wall of comfort. “I am so angry at you! You scared me half to death!”
“Sorry,” he signs, not daring to ask exactly what she was worried about. “Were you alright?”
“Alright? I was the safest I’ve ever been with Yunobo and the others -- All the other monsters disintegrated, we couldn’t believe our luck, until we saw the cave-in and-- don’t you dare ever shut us out like that again.”
“You sound like Riju.” Link swallows, before looking away, ashamed.
“I’m serious, Link. You could have--”
“Yes. I could have died. Zelda.” He coughs and frowns. “I--...I wanted to die.” The truth falls out of him so easily. His eyes are welling with tears and Zelda’s staring at him like broken glass is being ground into her heart.
“I wanted to...Zelda. I never imagined anything beyond the Calamity, and I couldn’t...I just couldn’t-! Daruk, Revali and Urbosa -- they’re always there, and I wish it was me instead of them, I wished it was me instead of the Zora, Me instead of Sidon, and I know it’s not my fault, I know -- but I still --” He’s gasping down air and every inch of his windpipe is knotted.
“I had nothing on the other side of Ganon. I had a job. I had a purpose. I was supposed to make it happen. I never expected to live - there wasn’t supposed to be an after. Everything’s changed--”
She brushes tear-soaked hair off his cheeks and holds him.
“I...I wish I had the bravery that you do. All that got me through it was the After. What good I could do, how we could walk together again. And sunshine - Gods, what I wouldn’t have given for a day like today...I never realized the opposite was true for you. But you’re here, Link, in the After, in the sun with me. Now we’ve got to learn all about the new world and now we get to enjoy it - we get to learn what we love and find a new place and new purposes and our own peace. It’s over, but you’re not. All I know is that you’ve been in my After since the first time I thought about it. So please -- please don’t throw yourself away. Maybe you don’t have a purpose, maybe we’ve lost friends, but there are new ones out there, Link, and I don’t know what I would do without you - please don’t leave me.”
He looks at her, haggard and paper-thin, and they’re both cry-laughing at their own stupidity and the strange besieging honesty. He’s so glad she knows. He’s so glad that it’s passing--
He’d begged the Master Sword not to leave him in the dark, the same way Zelda has begged him to stay, and he gets it. It’s not saving the world, but his purpose for the moment is her, and when he finds something he likes, that will become part of his new purpose too--
He thinks of his friends, all of them, the Tadpoles and families he’s met -
“I’m still here.” Link says, choking down a sob-wracked laugh. “But--the sword and your power is--”
“Gone. Permanently.” Zelda grits. “We couldn’t find the sword...I can’t hear her any longer.”
Link nods. It will probably stay lost until it’s needed again. In his heart, he lays her back on the forest floor and walks out from under the cool canopy for the final time.
“Good.” Link sighs, feeling a shoulder-blade pop with new use. He looks her up and down and massages her abused hands. He’s almost embarrassed to ask. “And Sidon?”
Zelda smiles at his care and stills him. “You have no idea how hard it was to convince him to let us take you. Though, he didn’t attack anyone...but...urgh...do the bites he gave you hurt? He didn’t try and kill you again did he? He’s asleep now, though he’s eaten something, thank gods. He’s not back to speaking properly yet.”
Link shakes his head trying to still his relieved heart.
“No, I wasn’t in any danger...I think he sort of saved me.” He breathes and muses, remembering his unspoken vow of meeting Sidon on the other side of the dark. Another new purpose, small and fragile. “What about the kids?”
“All safe. You got them all out so fast--Fronk is the proudest father you’ve ever seen Link--he’s struggling to name them all and he keeps asking for ideas and options. Keeps threatening to name them after Mei and you and Sidon and the rest of us --”
“Gods no.”
“Try telling him that.”
Link laughs. It sits alien against his lungs and he stretches with it.
“Zelda, can we go to the throne room together?”
She looks at him sideways, and though it takes some convincing, eventually they climb the hill, passing through the empty gatehouses and through into the grand entry hall. It’s decayed and decrepit, but there’s grass growing either side of the path and the sunshine illuminates the century-old floor in vibrance. The hole he and the Calamity fell through stretches like an open maw. Link holds her hand and they stare together.
“I thought it would hurt more,” Zelda says, tears washing down her face anyway.
Link hugs her, but she’s right. Under the sadness and the pain and the memories, the choking grit of teeth and wounds barely scabbed over, is the earth. It waits, and it blooms so perfectly that the future is too large for Link to comprehend. He aches with possibility. It might have been a century of pain trapped here waiting for both of them, but he hopes that this too has passed.
They say goodbye, to King Rhoam, to a myriad of other friends, family, and lost loves. They swap stupid stories and awful quips, such that old friends might have been laughing warmly with them.
Link, as they leave, looks up at the throne.
“You’d be so proud of her.”
She grabs his hand again, half-blushing and half-crying and they make their way back down. The people part as they pass the corridors, bowing in respect. Link forces himself not to limp in front of them and smiles at them all. Every one he gets in return feels like an Octo-balloon tied to his back, floating on good hope.
They descend to the arena. There are a few of the older Zora speaking with Mipha in a fussy circle. The caved-in stone looks ruined and gorgeous bathed in the open sunlight. Mipha ignores her advisors and runs to greet Link and Zelda.
She stops a few feet from them, and much to Link’s dismay, she bows.
“I am forever in your debt, Champion Link. My council and I have agreed that you be honoured in future Zora custom and--.”
“No.” Link says firmly. He is absolutely not accepting any honors. (...Especially when he fucked the Prince immediately after saving him...)
Some of the aforementioned ‘council’ look offended. He switches back to sign. “Call me Link. You’re the one that...uh... healed me right? We’ll call it even then. I don’t want your honour, though I appreciate it. Just...friendship will do nicely. Uh...how’s Sidon?” He asks, looking over her shoulder. The Prince isn’t visible, but his chains are, disappearing behind a halo of uncleared rubble, still attached to what’s left of the back wall, under the vast stretch of the sky.
“A little weak, but alive, thanks to you. There’s a Shiekah smith who will be here with Impa soon. She should be able to release him from those manacles. He’s- he’s looking like himself again, Link -- still not speaking fully yet, but he’s better. Thank you . We’re discussing how we get him home--”
Link nods, not sure how he feels about “home” and continues, cutting her off too soon. He leaves the two Princesses to talk. Mipha hands him a fish on the way past with a knowing smile.
“I won’t tell anyone.” She whispers.
He climbs up the lip without much trouble, his blush powering his feet to go just a mite faster. Of course Mipha knows everything. She must have squirmed past the rubble first and covered for them both-- Of fucking course. At least she’s not told Zelda. He’s got some explaining to do at some point -- he sighs and gives up on thinking as he scrambles up the stone bank, nervousness building like water flowing downhill.
Sidon is knelt on the other side, staring up at the wide blue sky revealed by the collapse. He’s got pillows and all the same luxuries Link was afforded, but he’s using none of them. His eyes lock with Link’s. He now sees why Mipha was smug --
Sidon’s scales ignite instantly, awash in crimson and gold and azure starlight at the sight of him, and the smile that splits his face is revelatory. His eyes are picked out in gorgeous gold irises now his black stare has faded; they look like coming home, glowing in the light of day. Sidon stretches towards him.
“Link” he purrs, voice deep and crystalline.
He doesn’t know what it is, but a light in him kindles quietly. He stumbles down the rubble - can’t find the words or the signs to reply. He steps up between Sidon’s knees and throws his arms around his neck.
“Sidon.” He greets quietly. “Sorry about yesterday.”
The Zora purrs into the shell of his ear and tells him off with a nip.
“E-Exq-quisite.” He says against his jaw like he’s been practicing. He feels Sidon’s speech through his knees.
Link leans back and smiles infectiously.
In unfettered light, the red of his scales is the most lavish thing he’s ever seen, the reflection lighting up Link’s tunic with cerise glow.
“I’m so sorry, for…” He’s not really sure what for, but Sidon’s face is re-buried against his chest, and the great Zora is breathing him in and drinking down the sunlight and warmth - his first in 100 years. “ Are you feeling okay?” Link signs, suddenly at a loss for what to say.
“New.” Sidon manages, his fingers still twitching awkwardly in return. His control is still hard won, but Link is buoyant and proud. “Children?”
Link intuits the tadpoles. “No, not yet. I...I’m nervous about seeing them. I’m so glad they’re okay.”
He cocks his head to one side and looks understandingly.
“It will be like seeing the future.” Link glances.
Sidon only nods, and rattles his wrist chain. “To-g-gether?”
Link agrees wholeheartedly.
He lets Sidon nuzzle him, his huge head looped around his neck and purring against the aches there. “S-Sor-ry.”
Link knows he’s speaking of everything - their first meeting, of pulling Link into the fray by his hair, of desperate times and desperate measures. Of the hard final fight and manic fucking.
He laughs and doesn’t even have to think about it. “Already forgiven.”
When Impa and the Sheikah delegation finally arrive, the smith looks over his manacles with precise nervousness. Link doesn’t blame her for being wary of a giant shark-man, especially when he’s watching every flex of her fingers with close interest. She starts on his feet whilst Sidon’s slumped on his pillows like a toddler in the bath. Mipha holds his hand throughout and the delegation of her advisors watches like hawks until Mipha shoos them away. Link is allowed to stay, since Sidon spares him every second glance and won’t stop fidgeting unless he’s within arms reach. Link sits with letters from the Sheikah, also stealing peeks; he’s mostly sure his documents are the right way up, but he’s not read a word yet.
“Stay still,” Mipha urges, when only the collar is left choking her brother’s neck, and Mipha’s washed off a significant portion of the accumulated grime from where the other manacles used to sit. When he’s free he stands, all towering 10 foot of him. In the first time Link’s seen him unbent with feral rage, nor on all fours or knelt or wrapped around him.
He’s breathtaking, and Link can see the grace in him underneath years of hardship and neglect. Learning to walk again, no complaints and no sadness, just a childlike glee and open enthusiasm.
They stumble out of the Arena, Sidon leaning on his and Mipha’s shoulders as he gets used to moving normally again. The Sheikah roam ahead to trade stories with Zelda and the Zora council ahead of them. Impa beams like she’s surrounded by family, and treats the old corridors with heavy respect.
Link steals one last look at the Arena, the now vacant chains and the damp floor with sunlight streaming in.
The council wants Sidon to go and greet his people. His first hour of freedom and he has to be Prince first and Zora second. Link purses his lips and winks conspiratorially at Mipha.
He steers them outside, quietly away from the fussing advisors before they notice, and through the Lockup back door. Hyrule is open and sundrenched, the grass between Sidon’s feet and the stretch of the river that wraps around the castle twinkling merrily.
He stares as the greenery waves.
He’s never seen the outside in his adulthood, and that this is the first time he is truly, sincerely free.
There’s such profound serenity despite the myriad Zora shrieking and spilling out onto the grass to greet their liberated Prince, but he’s wrapped up in Hyrule’s majesty and the first kiss of open sun against scale.
Link quietly thinks that he’s glad they’ve both lived this long.
Sidon’s heavy hands urge them forward until he’s taking upright steps on his own and Mipha’s telling him to slow, to pause. The Prince isn’t listening, wrapped in the wind and the light, he’s falling, scrambling towards it, all Link can do is help him run with a mischievous cackle. The bank welcomes the Prince, 20ft of drop into the river and Sidon dives, beaming into the sunlight. Mipha’s shouting with joy and every Zora in Hyrule is jumping into the moat after him. A mass exodus from the edge of misery. They twist in droplet-flecked arches out the water as the last of the darkness washes from Sidon’s skin. He’s fast but weak and they all help him float when he exhausts himself, clustered like a happy nest around a precious egg.
Link watches from the bank, alone, grinning from ear to ear at the sight.
“Welcome back to the world, little one.”Mipha sighs.
“We’ll look after you, your Highness.”
“My Prince you must see my children - they miss you” Fronk greets, his two older kids clutching his tail and giggling with the lap of water.
“My Prince, you have seen us so proud -”
“Prince Sidon, let’s go see them together!”
They bob and laugh and Sidon agrees. He tries to ask with a broken voice to take Link along and he looks back to the bank. The Champion walks quietly, alone with a serene smile. He’s thinking. Sidon can see the tinges of sadness wash in about his face as he considers.
Link finds himself wandering behind them as they carouse. Force of habit tells him to stop, to remain aloof, or to go back to the Arena, but there was nothing to go back for now. He walks the hall and the courtyard, climbing the walls towards the Docks and watching the life about him.
The raft of happy Zora floats through the cove and a part of him yearns. They will leave soon. Sidon is free, the children clearly grow fast, and they have a home to reclaim. Link doesn’t begrudge them a future, just something sits in him wrong. Maybe it’s jealousy. It gives him bittersweet whiplash.
He reminds himself that they don’t know each other, really. They don’t owe each other anything. His gone friends laugh at him in the abused corners of his mind. Silly. Being the last one left behind always hurts.
The Zora tumble up the stairs to the upper docks, cooing when they see the children’s pool.
Sidon’s pace slows, and even as he’s feet taller than the rest of his kind, he stoops until Link can barely see him. He’s shaking like he’s magnetized at their presence and doesn’t know whether to run or stay. The rest of the Zora flow forward, seemingly unnoticing, and Link finds himself by Sidon’s side with barely a thought.
Fronk’s fussing at the edge of the water as all 6 of the Hatchlings, all with nubs of developing bodies now, speed around the wide pool with zest, interrogating the algae collected for them. The rest of the Zora circle and coo, taking turns to sit and say hello and tell them little anecdotes. One old Zora tries to remember old legends and fairytales that he was told as a child. Mipha tells them of her father, passing on tales of great King Dorephan, who was as large as a ship and blue as the sea. More Zora offer broken snippets of stories, but so many of them struggle to remember anything from the Before.
Sidon sways. Link knows without asking that he’s got fewer stories to offer than the rest of them, but the Zora still stare at the Prince expectantly. They don’t say anything, they just look. Link takes his hand and smiles, trying to soothe his desperate expression. Sidon leans on his shoulder and Link helps him down to greet the children. They recognize him, crowding around his gentle fingers like they know his warmth; the Prince’s face crumples in sorrow.
The weight of a century of darkness buried under fathoms of earth and grime hits Link like a minecart. Sidon spent all of his growing years swaddled in darkness. Separated, singled out. His father murdered in the most brutal way imaginable - Link doesn’t even know if Sidon can remember his Father’s face, or if he remembers the feel of the water or the touch of a lover before he came along. That he could have been the first to help him to those experiences makes him grateful beyond measure, and heated with flush. In Sidon’s position, his hopes would have rotted away. Link decides that he’s the strongest, wildest, kindest creature he has ever known.
“May I offer a story?” Link asks Fronk, who just nods excitedly.
He tells them about an Ardent Rito champion, mostly as a joke to settle Sidon’s discontent. It’s a silly story that reflects Revali’s pride, his daft over-competitiveness, but by the time he’s finished, Sidon’s staring at him closely and the Hatchlings have stopped zipping about the pool and the Zora are seated and leaning in to read his hands.
Revali’s death doesn’t hurt as much. Link realizes that his bad memories or associations are not, perhaps, in need of expunging, but maybe in need of retelling.
So he starts again, a new short story, this time of Indomitable Urbosa, and her crusade against the Yiga and Great Molduga and the strength she wielded across the desert. The Zora coo at stories of an ocean of sand, where their closest kind are the wild Sand-Seals that swim through the dunes.
Then onto Stalwart Daruk, who could surf lava flows and still Death Mountain when her rumble was too much for his people to put up with. Who ate mighty feasts of gemstone and rock, and hated the rain and feared dogs.
Then onto a story of proud Zelda, gracious in peace and ferocious in war, dedicated and smart, who wrangled great mechanical beasts and tangled with the truths of the land, at once both one with the Gods and yet defying all expectations.
When he’s finished, Sidon seems to back away. Link worries for him, but he just sighs and flexes his fingers. He starts slowly, twitching against the effort. Link wonders how strange it must feel for a crowd this size to sit in perfect silence and watch a story play out on another’s hands. No spoken words, only cathedral-like reverence.
“And what about the story of Brave Link?” His hands stumble over the question but his eyes are focussed and understanding.
Link doesn’t know how to put that much into words, it’s not bravery at all, but he knows how it feels.
“There’s no such person. Just a frog stuck down a well with the Kind Water. The Frog makes friends with the Rain and the Stars and the Sun and Moon. The people above take water from the well and the Little Frog sinks downwards, but Proud Rain refills what they take. They put a lid on the well, but the Stalwart Sun heats his dark home so even the frog can feel its warmth. Ardent Stars keep him company even when he is alone, and give the little frog something to aspire and dream towards. In winter, the well freezes, but even as the frog shivers, Indomitable Moon reminds him that all things have their phase, and this unkindness too shall pass. The frog does not know life above the well, but one day when the flood comes, he will have to find out. One day the Frog will meet new friends - the Earth, the Trees, the Air, the River-”
“All he will have is his old friends to help him understand the new world.”
Sidon watches him, aglow again with gentle intensity. He’s fiddling with the freed scales on his wrists, the skin pale and blemished like mother-of-pearl.“What about Kind Water?”
Link smiles and notices the tadpoles are arced in a still line, watching. “Parts of us stay behind in the Well, but even Water too, will leave eventually.” Link muses, quietly, suddenly cruelly aware that he’s surrounded by people hanging on his every hand-sign, and it’s not just Sidon’s quiet gaze that holds him.
But hold him it does.
“I couldn’t see before, but I think there’s beauty in learning to live above the dark. The world is wide, and there’s always more of it to fall in love with.”
Sidon is abruptly a lightshow, every square inch of luminescent scale painted in blue, gold and red. Surrounded by a hundred Zora and peaceful hatchlings, their eyes open with awe. It’s so profoundly still that Link’s thoughts echo in the rainbowed cavern and about the chambers of his heart. Link doesn’t miss the looks of shock, or the knowing smile Fronk aims at Mipha, nor the excited wiggles of the children. They will grow up in sunlight.
He looks at Sidon and finds that he’s struggling to see past the dance of colours reflected in tears. It seems so profound, so gentle.
“The world is wide.” Sidon’s hands repeat, as he leans in and takes the moisture from Link’s eyes.
“Fronk,” Mipha says gently, breaking the perfect silence. “I might offer you some names for the children based on Link’s story. Perhaps not directly after the characters, but each of their virtues. I think we all must now learn to live above the dark.”
The Zora all turn to listen as she lists Prou, Stal, Arden, Indo, Kino and Brava - Proud, Stalwart, Ardent, Indomitable, Kind and Brave.
To the immediate churn of Link's stomach, Fronk singles out each child and considers one of the six names, and the heave of scaled bodies as the Zora all agree and coo over which of the children suits which moniker. It was perhaps only mildly better than naming them after the champions directly - it's even ironic that ‘Stal’ is picked for the largest child. He’s so overwhelmed at Fronk’s emphatic acceptance of the namesakes that he doesn’t know how to express his horror at having decided something so important in ignorance. He looks between glowing Sidon and Mipha in panic, but Sidon’s hand finds his shoulder and kind eyes search his face.
“Good.” That is all he rasps against Link’s bewilderment.
“But what about what Mei, what would she think?!” He signs sharply.
Mipha watches out the corner of her eye and nods too. “Mei would have only cared that they’re all alive and well and still here.” She mouths the last part at Sidon as the rest of their company is distracted by the smallest, most precocious child being dubbed ‘Brava’. “Honestly, anything is an improvement upon ‘Mei-darling and Fronk Jr.’”
Sidon snorts and greets the small ones that swim over to him, teeth bared in the widest grin. He tickles the water above Kino’s tail and the little one swims about his fingertips like they’re play-fighting.
The Zora bless each child officially with the new names that evening, and Link tries to stand tall under the weight of it. Watches Sidon being declared as their official Guardian, a sort of godparent which suits the Prince unequivocally. Link greets them all, quietly, using their new names with embarrassed pride and watches the newborn intelligence in their eyes. He sincerely hopes that they remember him. The subsequent party is uninterrupted jollification.
A few drinks in, Mipha asks Link to formally consider a position as Ambassador once both Zora’s Domain and Greater Hyrule are back in full form. She gives him time to think about the decision. She asks more immediately to borrow him to help clear their highway on the way back to their ancestral homelands, and when Zelda grins brightly and tells him that he absolutely should, if he wants to, Link just says a simple ‘I will help.’ They hug and shake hands, and that is that.
Once she’s asked, the Shiekah, Gerudo, Rito and Gorons are all asking him to be Ambassador too.
“Well you ought to, if we let Zelda squirrel you away in the castle then we would never get the pleasure of your company.” Riju smirks. “Maybe you’d even manage to drag your queen with you.”
“Yeah, but poor Link’s gonna be constantly travelling if we all need him--” Yunobo suggests, “but gramps and the others really want to see you again so I hope you’re going to come for the Goron gut-check festival--”
“I couldn’t imagine safer roads if Link’s being summoned all over Hyrule. There’d be a peace like we’ve never known.” Teba chuckles and sips his wine. “However I do owe you a meal after you beat my archery challenge, so I expect you by Rito Village soon. Kass has returned now too, though I think he’s still coming to terms with the idea that you actually are the Hero of Hyrule. Might help if you show up and talk that through with him.”
“At this rate I’ll never be able to see my own Champion.” Zelda laughs. “That was a very wise play, Queen Mipha, I better watch out for you!”
“Quite honestly,” Mipha says quietly, looking over at Link and Sidon as they listen, huddling on a bench and trying a strange rum drink from the same glass, “I had ulterior motives from the beginning.”
“How sly,” Riju says, “but he has to come back to Gerudo town, he has to defend his Sand-seal Championship title.”
Sidon gawks at her. “Sand seals are real?!”
Link guffaws and hides his mirth behind a nod, looking back at the others, and Sidon becomes excited and high-strung at the prospects of everything he’s never seen.
They’re all swiping at one another, jostling in mock competition over his future. “Do I get a say in where I go at all?” Link asks.
“Absolutely not.”
“I’m happy to hold you hostage in Gerudo Town. You might be able to leave, if you’re willing to offer a tribute to Patricia.”
“Maybe we’ll let you out sometimes to get rock roast.”
“Only if you get good enough to beat the flight range in double time.”
Link’s laughing so hard he almost misses the curl of Sidon’s awed fingers as he signs.
“Who is Patricia? What’s a rock roast? Where is the Flight Range? Would you come visit us too? Fronk expects you to come for the children’s birthday, Zorana day, both equinoxes and the Super Moon.”
“Yes, better not disappoint the little ones.”
“You make me sound like I’m the father!” Link cringes, waving all of them off, wishing he could just show Sidon all the things he’s missing.
Zelda, who's been regarding him with something akin to pride the entire time, merely says; “You must leave him alone - he who bested Ganon could not possibly handle a calamity such as children. No, just being the saviour of Hyrule will have to do for now.” She raises her goblet, and the room’s playful atmosphere immediately quietens and dissipates. Smiles and glasses raised in his direction. “Link, Sidon, thank you. For all you’ve done. Three cheers for the champion of Hyrule and Prince Sidon of the Zora!”
He’s drunk and embarrassed and overheated by the time the dancing and drinking has left most of the castle passed out and the remainder in giggling piles, strewn over the furniture like linen. Pritana and Nali spent most of the night dancing with him, and Mipha, Zelda and Riju took turns too. Yunobo and the Gorons teach him their traditional dance steps, and Teba and Saki both hold him in comfortable familiarity. They must miss their son a lot.
Sidon joins in, wanting to try and dance, but he’s not regained the strength yet. Link promises to once he’s recovered properly.
His legs ache pleasantly.
Teba and Saki whisper gently to one another in a nook by the window, and Yunobo chats idly with a Gerudo woman, a cluster of people using him as a pillow. Mipha, Riju and Zelda sit close, sniggering. They’re still surrounded, and they’re teasing Sidon and some other men mercilessly. He remembers the distrustful look Zelda shot at Princess Mipha after they first met, in contrast to being thick as thieves now. Link isn’t exactly surprised as he presents Nali and Pritana with a cup of water each, and goes back to fetch one for himself.
He’s on his way back when half of their raucous cluster is ushering him over.
“We’ve made a bet.” Zelda says proudly. Oh no. “But we would like you to oversee the proceedings.”
He drinks, unamused. “...why?”
“Well, the bet is about whose Ambassador you become, so naturally you have to judge!”
Link rolls his eyes and gulps deeply from his goblet in exasperation. He had thought they were all joking, but Zelda’s giving him the fondest of looks and his instinct tells him that she’s dead-set serious.
“We’re going to pitch you our best job offer, and you get to accept one of them.” Teba and Yunobo grin in mischief and join them at the table. There’s a list of wagered items on a piece of parchment. Mipha’s pledge is understandably tiny and Riju’s wager exceptionally large, but nobody seems to care about the skewed stakes. Teba and Yunobo add their bets to the table. Winner takes all, including Link’s company. They’ve mostly bet silly things, like a year's supply of Wildberries or one Ginger Horse, but there’s some concerning ones on there, like ‘the blessing of a great fairy,’ or ‘a sword made of pure gold.’ Riju and Zelda are cackling as they add ‘Hylian-sized Gerudo Silks’ onto the list, coming up with stupider and stupider suggestions with which to tease Link and each other. He can see Sidon, sitting next to them all, cocking his head at the list of words and concepts he’s unfamiliar with. He looks somewhat lost and annoyed.
Link groans at the five of them and allows Pritana and Nali to pull him up a chair and hustle him down into it. He sits, unconvinced but amused.
Zelda immediately steps up first, possessed with the spirit of shenanigans. Her act is clearly so overdone and foolish that even Link has to laugh. Thank god they’re all mouthing and Mipha’s hands are steady with translation even whilst inebriated.
“My illustrious Champion Link! You shall be the glorious jewel in Hyrule’s mighty crown - a trainer of future noble champions and safekeeper of the royal personage! In return, I shall lavish you with gems and riches such that most should confuse you for my mistress--” She pulls out a string of fake pearls from her pouch and hangs them over his neck, topping up his glass with some unknown booze. “Men and women shall sate your every appetite, and you shall never know a moment of rest.”
“Gods, you’d think I was a prize horse.”
“We can have one of those to satiate your appetite too should you wish.” Zelda winks. Link just cackles.
Beneath the mirth, he can see what she’s trying to do. She’s trying to give him options, to let him - no - dare him to choose his next move, and encourage the idea that it can be anything he chooses. A future that he steers. Befuddling.
Mipha steps up and removes Link’s pearls in mock disdain. Zelda’s holding her stomach in laughter.. “My offer to you, Link, is all the peace of Zora’s domain. We have little in the way of trade or prize horses, but you will have unlimited fish, silver, scales, lie-in’s, and baths. We only expect you to guard the children every now and then. A simple restful job and a new life as a part-time nanny.”
“Sleeping is my favourite pastime.” He grins. He doesn’t tell them how little of it he actually gets.
Yunobo tumbles past her, “Well, we want you to live with us Gorons. Lots of sports, all year round heat, good company, fantastic beer and all the gems you could ever want. Maybe just help us with the mining and building a bit, or if you’re any good at ceramics, that would be useful?”
“Beer and sports, huh?”
“Pah, one place is too humid, the other boiling hot. What about honing your archery and that of the new Rito generation? Our feather beds and hammocks are the finest in all Hyrule, our hospitality is unparalleled, our climate cold and mild, and you have the finest view of the Kingdom from Rito Village. You have much to offer as a teacher, and you would be a valuable target for all the younglings to aim towards--”
“Oof, hammocks. Hard sell.”
Riju smirks filthily. “Do a few sand-seal races and father a few children in Gerudo Town and you can have all the gold, silks and water you could ever want.”
Link groans and they’re all giggling.
“A Mistress, a nanny, a dogsbody, a pincushion, or a whore. However shall I pick?” Link groans.
They line up jokingly as if Link needs to choose his option then and there. All grinning widely and full of shit. Link laughs and waves them off.
He drinks deeply from his cup and when he lowers it, Sidon is standing in the applicant lineup. He’s glowing sheepishly. Link and the rest stare at him questioningly, a breathy pause settling between them. Mipha looks happily shocked, and Zelda’s outright gawping.
He grins, approaching and kneeling at Link’s side and placing a hand at his jaw. His voice cracks pleasantly.
“I have almost nothing to trade for your time, but my job offer is this; I would like a guide, for all I have seen of Hyrule is this castle. I have been kept in the dark, and there is much I have to learn. I want to know the true breadth of this world, and see more of the stars you have shown me. I intend to spend the rest of my days sleeping under them. All I have to give you is good company and my trust.”
Link looks at him, jaw clamped shut. There’s an ache that flares in his bones and he wants to feel the earth on his skin again. He’s seen so much of the world, and Sidon’s not seen enough, but in his presence he’s rendered with a newfound grace. A new wonder blossoming over old hurts and the dark of past experience.
He sighs deeply through his nose, knowing that some pain is escaping through his eyes. Being at one with the wild again, it aches and yearns against the chains in his heart. Sidon stares patiently, with a pent-up sadness and hope knotted in his eyes.
“No hammocks?”
Sidon shakes his head.
“No jewels?”
“No.”
“ No whores or money or power?”
“I don’t know what a whore is.” Sidon chuckles nervously and grins. His hands thrum over Link’s jaw. “I’ve absolutely nothing to give you, other than myself and immeasurable gratitude.”
Link looks him up and down, appraisingly. His voice is butter-smooth and deep, tickling at the back of his neck. A Champion and a Prince out in freedom. It sounds so fairytale and tempting that Link almost forgets to consider his position and Sidon’s -- they’d never be allowed to --
Then he looks at Zelda and Mipha, and to his surprise, Zelda’s eyes are clouded with tears and the most relieved smile he’s ever seen her wear, and Mipha’s face is soaked in jubilant pride. That’s their answer. How could he think it would be any different--
Zelda’s nodding at him, knowing exactly how much he wants to say yes. His eyebrows knit, and he hears her voice as clear as the Master Sword. Go on, you’ve done enough now. You can rest. Go, be free. I’ll always be here, you don’t owe us anything.
Link breathes out a last, shaky breath and turns to Sidon, still knelt uncertainly.
“When do I start?”
Sidon’s scales erupt in twinkling ruby light and he’s smiling so wide, Link almost misses Riju, Teba and Yunobo all groaning, for now they owe Sidon an infuriating payout of a tonne of Magma salts, two albino sand-seals and the Geode of a Frost-Talus, among other things. At least they know he’ll be visiting with a Zora prince in tow at some point.
Link and Sidon simply laugh, pains left behind, away down in the well.
