Chapter Text
Chapter 1
With the Calamity defeated, thus ending the Blood Moon's infinite resurrection of monsters in Hyrule, many had collectively deemed open travel to be far safer than any time Sidon could remember in his century of life.
Of course, 'safer' was only a relative term, however this had not deterred Sidon, and many others, from exercising their newfound ease of roaming. A fact which no doubt aggravated Sidon's father to no end.
Naturally, Sidon didn't blame him; he could well understand King Dorephan's hesitance to let him travel freely, without escort, but he thought that they had worked out a reasonable compromise. Speaking from a political perspective, if anything tragic were to befall Sidon, then the Domain would be left without an heir after Dorephan eventually passed.
Speaking from a more familial perspective, Sidon had witnessed how Mipha's death had nearly destroyed his father, a century ago, and the wounds from that loss were still apparent and would never truly heal. Sidon would not ever wish to inflict a similar pain upon his father. Not when he was the only family the old King had left.
Sidon had to repress a wan smile as he remembered his ill considered escapade to Lurelin Village, to defeat the Giant Oktorok that was terrifying the locals there. His father was far more restrictive of him then than he was now, and he thinks that his disobedience was the result of an adolescent's penchant for hubris and rebellion; his innate desire to prove himself and live up to his sister, prove that he knew better than the adults holding him back...
The Stone his father had commissioned retold the event in a rather heroic, if slightly comical, manner. The lesser known truth behind that was that Sidon had come terribly close, frighteningly close, to dying in that monster's belly.
When he returned home, his father was, naturally, furious at him. He'd later realised that Dorephan's anger had come from a bone-chilling fear that he had come very close to losing the last of his family, and his fury and subsequent grounding was borne of his desire to try to protect him, the way he thought he had failed to protect his daughter, and his wife. It was overbearing, and stifling, but Sidon had been too shaken to protest it, in the wake of his return.
Sidon also realised later that not only had his father seen through his attempts to downplay the danger he faced during that day, but also how little he had pretended the experience had affected him, for after one extremely humiliating official meeting, his father had spent the rest of the day desperately holding him close, in private, which Sidon was more than happy to oblige.
Kings were not supposed to cry, to show weakness to their subjects. Despite that, that day was the only time he recalled seeing his father cry, except for the morning after they realised Mipha was never coming home.
It was a sobering experience, all things considered.
Sometimes he still had nightmares about that day. He dreamed of suffocating, as slimy, fleshy walls constricted him, crushing the air out of him and gagging on the foul stench of the creature's innards, putrid with the rot of countless decaying bodies. As he slipped further and further down the creature's gullet, the light from outside dimmed, fading away, eventually leaving him trapped in utter blackness, as he was slowly crushed into oblivion...
He had developed quite acute claustrophobia from that incident.
Which, incidentally, was alleviated somewhat by his wanderlust; he knew of no better remedy to stave off the incoming panic attacks of hallucinatory walls closing in on him than wide open spaces. Whenever he felt that phantom heaviness in his chest that constricted his throat, he sought the outside, some place with a view that extended all the way to the horizon, and preferably even beyond it.
Which is what led Sidon to the Eastern Akkala coast, just beyond the shade of Ploymus Mountain, strolling along the cliff face as he looked Eastwards, past the small archipelago, to the Lanayru Sea beyond.
He had heard that Mipha had completed a Champion's trial in this area from Muzu. The ancient ray Zora had been muttering to himself about Link, as he was wont to do. However, much to Sidon's unmasked astonishment, the cantankerous advisor had actually been praising the Hylian Champion!
Sidon had clearly heard the old fish utter something about Link 'doing honour to dear Mipha's memory'. When he inquired as to the meaning behind that vague statement, Muzu had almost jovially informed him that Link had been following in the footsteps of the Champions, and undertaking and completing the trials they had once undergone in their honour and memory.
The revelation had drawn a warm feeling from Sidon's chest. He truly meant it whenever he told Link that knowing Mipha was on his mind made him happy. However, in recent times he had slowly come to understand that perhaps Link did not feel the same way. It was given away in the melancholy of his eyes, even before that too-hesitant smile appeared on his face. In recent weeks, that melancholy was beginning to fade into poorly concealed bitterness from the young Hylian.
Sidon sympathised with Link. Although Mipha's absence was still like a hole had been torn out from his heart, he had had an entire century to come to terms with it, to make peace with it, and for that wound to begin to scab over. Link had not had the luxury of time to dull the edge of the pain.
Despite the century that had passed between then and now, Link had mentioned that he had not been aware of any of it, due to his slumber in the Shrine of Resurrection. Sidon understood that from Link's perspective, she may as well have only been dead for a few months, at most. His own memories from the months after Mipha's death were hazy, and blurred by time and his own youth, but he remembered the crushing depression and grief that had overtaken him even now.
All things considered, Link was handling it admirably, Sidon thought. Especially since he had been immediately tasked with destroying the Calamity and saving Hyrule. Sidon was in awe of Link's ability to push through to complete his critical task, despite the emotional turmoil he had experienced.
Sidon's contemplation was abruptly cut off when he realised that he was approaching someone. That in itself was unusual, given that he was in a rather remote area and was therefore not heavily trafficked. A flash of wariness rose in Sidon in spite of his natural disposition, for the sorry state of the land meant that strangers could not be trusted at a glance; many were all too eager to attempt to exploit others if they thought they could get away with it, especially if, Nayru forbid, they happened to be a covert Yiga agent. Sidon's gills flared with an involuntary, disgusted shudder at their name.
That being said, the Zora had noticed that the number of Yiga incidents had drastically decreased, a good few weeks after Link had pacified Vah Ruta. Oddly enough, it was around the time that their intelligence had reported Link as heading for the Gerudo Highlands, where their hideout was rumoured to be.
Sidon was willing to bet that those two events were causally related, although he'd never asked, after seeing Link's involuntary response to them being mentioned in a conversation they had overheard.
Almost as quickly as his hackles had risen, he found them relaxing, for he recognised the person he was approaching. After being on his mind all afternoon, who else would it be standing on that cliff edge than Link himself? Perhaps the goddesses had divinely ordained their encounter?
Sidon dismissed the thought; in his experience, the goddesses held no care for such... matters.
Link, too, was staring out over the sea. He stood with his back to the entirety of Hyrule, face to face with the infinite void.
The sea breeze whipped up, sending Link's tunic flapping like a flag caught in a gale, as his hair brushed against his face. The setting afternoon sun lit his right cheek in a golden radiance, as he brought up a hand to dismiss the errant locks from where they were covering his eyes with an accompanying flick of his head. His eyes shone like sapphires, the sunlight sparkling off them, to the envy of the ocean before them.
To Sidon, Link looked...
He found himself short of words to describe the scene, for none seemed to truly do the Hylian justice. Sidon drew a startling comparison to the epic artworks depicting heroic figures from times long passed, whose names and deeds had been forgotten to time, but lived on in legend.
Sidon spent a fair amount of time attempting to find the correct words to describe it to himself. He eventually settled on one:
Link looked utterly ethereal.
As if he'd stepped straight out of a book of ancient mythology, from the eras of Odysseys, Quests, Heroes and Demons. He looked as if he simply did not belong in the real, gritty, tragic world they lived in, and instead came from an idealised fairy tale, the likes told to innocent, wide-eyed children who were too young to face the bitterness of reality, and could afford their childish fantasies for a few years yet.
Sidon did not know how Link did it: Despite the fact that Sidon himself was almost twice as tall as the shorter-than-average Hylian, Link managed to carry himself with the weight and gravitas comparable to a Lynel. Even in a room of strangers, Link could command the entire room with his presence alone, if he so chose. Normally, he was happy to melt into the background and let others take centre stage. However, Sidon had seen Link turn on his intensity, like striking a match, as he instantly became the most authoritative person in the room, without even uttering a word. A room filled with several members of royalty.
It was breathtaking.
He was breathtaking.
Sidon felt privileged to know him, and call him a friend.
Link had not moved, in all the time Sidon had stood gaping, as his brain short-circuited. He was still a fair ways away, but Link's eyes had not shifted from the horizon even once. Sidon assumed that logically meant that Link had not spotted him. He was not too familiar with a Hylian's field of vision, however he was pretty sure that Link would not be able to see him approaching without turning his head. Especially since he was stood near to the edge of the cliff.
Remarkably near to the edge of the cliff, in fact.
Sidon squinted at him. He'd known Link for long enough now that Link's utter lack of self preservation instincts no longer shocked him. His father had informed him, not long after he'd first escorted Link to the Domain, that he had been the same way a century ago, much to Mipha's eternal exasperation, and that he was truly happy that his personality had managed to remain intact, even though his memories had not.
It had apparently become sort of a running joke among the Zora Council that Mipha had become so proficient in her healing abilities out of sheer necessity to keep Link in one piece, despite his best intentions to the contrary.
Sidon had often mused fondly, after watching Link glide away on that paraglider he was so fond of, that Link must be slightly touched in the head for him to express such open exhilaration at being suspended hundreds of feet in the air by little more than a piece of cloth. Sidon certainly didn't think that he could stomach it. It wasn't that Sidon had a phobia of heights, or even a fear of falling, but a healthy aversion to the very rapid deceleration at the end of such a fall had never killed anyone.
Though he supposed that even if Link were to fall, he'd have ample time to unfurl his glider and land safely. He could never tell where Link kept it on him; as far as any witnesses could tell, the thing seemed to just apparate out of the aether whenever Link desired to summon it, and disappear again as soon as he'd landed. He wondered if that was due to his remarkable Slate; the wondrous piece of ancient technology that allowed Link to perform some of his more impressive feats.
It was then that Sidon noticed a bundle some yards behind Link, nestled against an errant stone. It appeared to be a traveller's pack, likely containing the essentials for anyone who would be travelling for several days, away from civilisation. Draped over the top of the pack was undoubtedly Link's glider; its distinctive pattern too familiar to Sidon's eye for him to ever mistake it. The implications of that were not good, in the event of Link falling; Sidon had never actually seen it teleport from one physical location into Link's hands.
Sidon's gaze whipped back to Link so fast he wouldn't have been surprised to injure the tendons in his neck. Link, of course, had still not moved an inch, a veritable statue. The only hint that he was indeed alive, and not a disturbingly realistic mannequin, was the soft, periodic rising of his chest, deepened by the occasional sigh that seemed to carry on the wind to Sidon's ears.
An irrational fear filled Sidon for a brief moment; fear for Link's safety, stood as he was at the edge of a cliff with no means to save himself in the event of his fall. Sidon knew that his fear was irrational, because he had seen with his own eyes what Link was capable of. Indeed, such a formidable warrior, skilled and powerful enough to retake the Divine Beasts, and defeat Calamity Ganon itself in single combat, would certainly know his own limits, and would not be killed by something as petty as falling off a cliff face.
Realistically, Sidon knew that Link was in no danger. However, despite his calm, logical realisation, he found himself unable to fully banish the worry from his chest. It was just...
The wind where they were stood was rather sharp, as evidenced by the frenetic dance Link's looser clothing was performing. Link, for all of the indomitable aura he exuded, was deceptively small. Many people joked about expecting the Hero of Hyrule to be taller, upon first meeting him. Those jokes tended to cease, upon becoming witness to any of his implausible feats, but even then...
Sidon had carried Link before. Several times, in fact. He knew intuitively how heavy the young man was. It had shocked him how easy it was for him to bodily hoist the smaller man into the air, given Link's larger-than-life presence, and ferocious strength.
It wouldn't take much for just the slightest increase in the wind's speed, or a sudden change in its direction, to dislodge one of his feet, and send him tumbling into the waters far below.
But surely Link would never be so clumsy, Sidon reasoned. Link, who possessed an otherworldly grace in combat, keeping calm enough to make impossible shots even under the most dire of circumstances when they had assaulted Vah Ruta, would also possess enough sense to not let himself slip.
Even so, Sidon found himself increasingly uncomfortable just watching him, a sense of foreboding curdled his stomach, as if he was witnessing the prelude to a tragedy about to unfold. For his own peace of mind, he'd get Link to retreat from the cliff face.
Finding out how to work his legs once again, Sidon resumed his approach. He was fairly sure that Link had noticed someone approaching by now, confident in Link's honed instincts that must have certainly saved his life on innumerable occasions, however in the event that Link hadn't noticed him, he elected to at least attempt to not startle him. It would be remarkably ironic, in a morbidly comedic way, if after all of his worrying, he caused Link to fall, after all.
Sidon considered his options of greetings. He had already ruled out his normal, boisterous shout, which left him contemplating his remaining options, for all that he wished he could simply walk up behind him and, forcibly if necessary, drag Link back from the abyss below him.
Of course, he couldn't do that. After all, Link startled badly. Sidon had no desire to be electrocuted today.
Sidon stood for several moments a respectable distance behind Link, mouth opening and closing repeatedly, as he tried to work out the most appropriate, and simultaneously un-startling, greeting.
His musing was cut off abruptly, as Link's chest heaved an enormous sigh, far larger than the ones Sidon had witnessed before, before his soft, harmonic voice drifted just above the wind.
''It's a beautiful view, isn't it, Sidon?''
Caught off guard by the hail, Sidon mentally caught himself as he tried to formulate a response. He finally settled with the safest choice: A simple agreement.
''Yes, I suppose it is. Although, I'm sure it can be admired just as much from ten yards behind you.'' Some of Sidon's subconscious fear leached into what was supposed to be a facetious, if chiding, remark.
Link's shoulders seemed to twitch in what Sidon assumed was a snort of amusement, although his feet remained rooted where they were.
''This cliff is over thirty metres tall.'' Link continued, un-admonished. ''If something were to fall from this height, it would be travelling at over twenty metres per second when it hit the water, which, incidentally, is more than fast enough to break a Hylian's bones, provided one landed incorrectly.''
Sidon blanched.
Link continued, as if he was merely discussing the weather, instead of his own mortality.
''Of course, even if one did land correctly, the cold water shock, impact shock and lack of an available beach would likely mean that they would drown, regardless.'' Link gave an errant wave of his hand, gesturing to the space below him.
A cold weight settled in Sidon's chest. The fact that Link was so casual, so flippant about such a statement in his current position was highly worrying. Sidon knew Link was reckless, hell, the man was infamous for it, but these were not the words of a rash, foolish adrenaline seeker dispassionately listing the dangers of their activities.
For one terrible moment, Sidon felt fear. A familiar, awful fear that he never wanted to experience again, clawing up his chest, constricting his lungs and stealing his breath away. The same fear he'd once experienced in the guts of that damn Oktorok.
But this time it was not directed towards himself.
Sidon swallowed thickly, his tongue seemed too large for his mouth. He cursed it, for, if what he was fearing was true, he would need to make full use of his eloquence, not have it numbly flapping in fear and disbelief.
''Well, as... fascinating as that may be...'' Sidon winced, hoping he was reading Link's mood correctly, and he would be receptive to his own usual brand of dry commentary, ''I suppose it's ultimately irrelevant as long as you're not planning on jumping?'' Sidon sent an imploring tone in his question, silently begging Link not to act foolishly, if he was so planning on it. He attempted to disguise his worry with a supplementing statement, if indeed Link was merely 'admiring the view', and not planning to...
Goddesses above, Sidon couldn't even finish that thought, lest it become true.
''After all, you're hardly dressed for swimming, my friend!'' Sidon finished brightly. He had noticed that whenever Link visited the Domain, or really any area where it was an inevitability that one would get wet, that he would always, unfailingly, don Mipha's armour, her planned engagement gift to him. Link had always seemed proud to wear it, a fact which comforted Sidon, but simultaneously broke his heart.
Link chuckled at his statement, but it was not a happy noise. He'd likely made the connection Sidon had intimated; after all, most Hylians were so adverse to getting their regular clothing wet. Another rumbling sigh passed his shoulders, before he finally turned to face his claimed brother, taking a very generous step back from the cliff edge, to Sidon's marked relief.
''Now, Sidon,'' Link chuckled. ''You needn't be so concerned for me.'' He said gently, calming Sidon's frazzled nerves.
Sidon swore internally, partly ashamed, mostly mortified that he'd been so worried that Link was about to...
Despite Link's retreat, he still found himself incapable of even contemplating the idea.
''After all,'' Link carried on, approaching Sidon now, ''I've survived jumping from Shatterback Point. Compared to that, this cliff is barely an overzealous ledge.'' His words were warmer now, familiar. Even his tone had changed for the lighter. Link's face wore a smile, a gentle and beautiful thing that Sidon wanted to cherish, however it was spoiled by the reflections in Link's eyes.
His face was smiling, but his eyes were utterly empty.
''In the months after my resurrection, I have become incredibly, intimately, knowledgeable on exactly what will and will not kill me. So believe me when I say that this cliff will not be the end of me.''
Sidon's heart clenched with fear, worry, admiration, awe and a thousand other emotions at Link's words. He was overcome with awe at what Link had accomplished and lived through, but despaired over the fact that he'd had to endure those experiences in the first place.
''And even if I were so unfortunate as to fall, I knew that you would be there to rescue me anyway.'' Link smiled that false smile of his again. However, Sidon had to suppress his laugh at the genuine humour in Link's tone.
''Ah, of course. Like that time with the Lynel?'' Sidon offered, hopefully.
Mirth danced across Link's features.
Sidon cast his mind back to that fateful night: Link had been visiting, and the last he'd seen of him, the young Hylian was swimming up the waterfalls in Upland Zorana, using his enchanted Zora armour. The freedom and joy expressed by Link when he did so made Sidon eternally grateful that his sister had allowed Link to experience what was normally reserved exclusively to Zora.
Several hours later, after night had fallen, there had been no word or sighting of Link. That was to be expected however; he rather had the tendency to come and go as he pleased, so it was certainly no cause for alarm, no matter how lonely Sidon had felt in his absence.
That was before an ungodly screeching echoed around the home of the Zora, followed closely by an almighty splash. Many had been worried that Ganon had finally managed to escape his prison, and had arrived to complete its devastation of what little remained after its initial rampage. Sidon, and several of the Royal Guard, had immediately journeyed to the site of the splash, the East Reservoir Lake, happening across it in almost darkness.
In the far distance, near to the base of Ploymus Mountain, beneath the infamous Shatterback Point, Sidon had noticed movement, his sharp hunter's eyes defining the panicked splashing of something in distress, before the splashing had stopped and the water went still. Immediately diving into the water, to the protest of his guards, he'd sniffed deeply. His olfactory receptors had immediately recognised the offensively abhorrent stench of Ganon-spawn malice, but beyond that, fainter, was a far more pleasantly enticing smell to his predatory instinct; the blood of an animal, a mammal.
A Hylian.
Sidon's instincts had immediately kicked into overdrive, faced with the evidence of a sentient in distress, as he'd taken off towards the location of the panicked struggling, Bazz and Gaddison left in his considerable wake.
As Sidon approached, he'd continued inhaling water, attempting to pinpoint the location of the source with his formidable sense of smell. He'd honed in on the Hylian, now distinctly separated from whatever monster had fallen into the reservoir, and as he got closer, his heart had plummeted into his gut, as he recognised the scent of the Hylian.
It was a scent he'd begun to cherish, as the person accompanying it had never failed to improve his mood. A scent he'd longed for, to alleviate the boredom or loneliness of his taxing days practising politics with the Zora Council. A scent he'd last scented earlier that day, upon wishing its owner happy travels.
The blood in the water he'd scented had belonged to Link.
Faced with the possibility of his dearest friend in distress, Sidon had somehow managed to redouble his speed, as he'd raced towards what he'd hoped was Link's triangulated location. However it had become difficult to accurately pinpoint the origin; Link's blood had diffused in a perplexing pattern leaving Sidon second guessing as to his location.
Panic had seeped into Sidon's limbs weighing them down with dread. What if Link was drowning? Could Sidon find him in time, before water flooded his lungs and he died, thus dooming Hyrule to Ganon's wrath, without its hero to save it? The fact that the water had gone still after struggling had not been a good sign; it implied that whomever was splashing was already submerged. If that was the case, the odds of Sidon finding them in time were incredibly dim.
As Sidon had swum in panicked circles, he could hear his heart thudding in his ears, his hope had bled into the water not unlike the blood and malice he could still smell.
To this day, Sidon was still unsure as to what truly transpired that night. However if anyone had asked him, he would have told them that he'd felt an unquestionable compulsion to bank left, overwriting his conscious choice and instead appropriating his base instincts. In his stupefied mind, he'd found no will to disobey the order and followed it blindly, desperately.
Months after the event, he still did not know which goddess to thank that his gut feeling turned out to be accurate, but even despite that, he would likely have not spotted Link in time, if not for the soft blue glow that illuminated him like a beacon against the inky blackness of the water's surface. It seemed to trigger a deep sense of nostalgia, and longing in Sidon that he could not find answers within himself to explain.
By the time he'd reached Link, the glow had faded, but Sidon still swore up and down that he'd heard a voice, a female voice, whispering on the winds on Lanayru. He hadn't managed to discern any words, but the message was clear enough anyway.
Love, pain, admonishment, fondness, sadness, regret.
And then, Link had opened his eyes, and they were filled with tears.
Sidon had immediately grabbed Link, and moved to swim them back to the shore. Link had been oddly silent on his back, not once complaining or protesting his undignified position. Sidon had been worried that he was in shock, or delirious, and once they'd reached the shore, Sidon had immediately checked Link for injury.
To Sidon's shock, Link had not appeared to be bleeding from anywhere. Sidon knew he had detected a considerable amount of his blood in the water; enough that whatever wounds that caused it should have still been obviously apparent. He'd then checked Link for water inhalation, however Link's calm, measured breathing had dismissed that possibility outright.
Sidon had been witness to sentients unfortunate enough not to be blessed with gills drowning. It was a horrible, haunting sight that left him feeling sick to his stomach. To a Zora, water was home, was safe, was natural. Witnessing the hard way that other races and animals did not hold similar opinions was an eye-opening revelation.
As a child, Sidon could not fathom how others could not view water the way the Zora did. Then, he'd seen the corpse of an Hylian man dragged out of the Zora river, skin bloated, eyes bulging. Not long after that, he'd seen another Hylian struggling in the waters of the Domain, panicking, flailing, before being rescued by a member of the Royal Guard. Even after being saved, they'd continued hacking and coughing, sputtering, eyes wild with terror, flailing in frantic fear, until they had finally, finally managed to expel the water from their lungs, after several painful, harrowing minutes.
Sidon believed he could begin to understand better after that.
The fact that Link had not inhaled water was a relief to Sidon. That coupled with his lack of injuries had practically ensured that he would be fine, to Sidon's naked relief. However, it had left Sidon utterly bamboozled as to what insane concoction of circumstances could have led Link into his current position.
Given that it was Link, it was almost guaranteed to be nigh-unbelievably stupid.
Sidon wasn't disappointed. Or rather he was, at Link, but not at the story.
Apparently Link had decided to climb Ploymus Mountain, and had forgotten that there was a Lynel in residence there. Or, as Link had insisted, he hadn't forgotten, but he had forgotten that there had been a Blood Moon since the last time he'd slain it. Regardless, the Lynel had managed to ambush him, and, in his panic, he'd accidentally managed to freeze it with his Sheikah Slate.
Sidon had been unaware that the Slate even possessed such a function. Going by Link's description of the 'Stasis Rune', it left him highly uncomfortable. He wondered if such a function could be used on a person. He did not see why it couldn't. The possibility left him rather disquieted.
Then, after he'd frozen the Lynel, mid-charge, Link had been struck with inspiration: He'd wanted to test whether Shatterback Point was worthy of its name.
So, naturally, he'd 'imparted kinetic energy' to the still-frozen Lynel (and Sidon couldn't repress his guffaw at the way Link had so formally defined what he assumed to be Link beating the metaphysical shit out of the immobile monster) and when Stasis ended, the Lynel was sent careening over the cliff's edge to the reservoir, hundreds of metres below.
That alone would have been deranged enough, however Link was fond of going the extra mile.
In order to test his hypothesis, he had to be around to collect the results of his experiment, in his own words. Logically, this meant that Link had to be at the surface of the lake, when the Lynel hit the water. In order to keep up with the Lynel's free-fall, he'd deigned to leap after it to observe the impact.
He'd downplayed Sidon's worries about blood loss, saying that the Lynel had managed to open a shallow, but bloody wound that he had already healed with an elixir. Sidon hadn't really known what to make of his story, but Link seemed to be just fine, and in a humorous mood, so he hadn't wished to press.
He'd wanted to reprimand Link for his foolish behaviour, but Link had firmly shut him down by telling him that he wasn't in any real danger. Sidon had then expressed worry about Link not being able to make it back to shore and drowning in the reservoir, however Link had simply rebuked him by reminding Sidon of the Slate's ability to teleport him to safety.
Sidon had felt extremely foolish after that, especially after the panic and fuss he'd been through. Link had seemed to notice however, and before Sidon could even fathom apologising or embarrassment, Link had firmly thanked him for his concern, declaring that it touched him, and thanked him again for doing the right thing, and 'rescuing' him. His words were said in good spirits.
''After all,'' he'd said, ''How many people can say that they've rescued the 'Hero of Hyrule'?''.
Sidon had laughed at that, even though secretly he was very partial to the idea of saving Link when he'd been at his most vulnerable, so he'd assented to Link's reassurances.
Despite that, Sidon had been rather concerned by Link's abrupt mood swing. He was confident that he hadn't imagined the tears or the rawness in Link's eyes after he found him, but was reluctant to break Link's newfound cheer.
He'd later asked his father, in private, as to what the pale blue glow he'd seen on Link, and the voice he thought he'd heard could mean. Dorephan had openly gaped at Sidon for an uncomfortably long time, shock and astonishment plain to see, before great, fat tears had begun to well in his eyes, though they resolutely did not fall. When he finally spoke, he didn't reply to Sidon, nor give him the answer he was looking for.
He'd merely given a distant stare, beyond Sidon, towards the mountain where Vah Ruta had taken residence.
''So, he was being truthful, after all.'' Dorephan had muttered.
The seemingly unrelated comment had confused Sidon somewhat; he'd immediately demanded answers to his father's non-sequitur.
''Who was being truthful, and about what?'' Though perhaps he could guess.
His father had only smiled, eyes still far away.
''They are united now.''
Sidon's mind snapped back to the present with a jolt. It seemed that his start jerked Link out of his own recollections, as the haze cleared from his eyes, which then met Sidon's again, with remarkable clarity, and intensity.
Truthfully, Sidon was incredibly flattered by the implicit trust Link had; the faith that Sidon would rescue him, if he so needed it. He tried, and failed, to suppress the warm giddiness that he felt at Link's words, although if the indulgent, amused smirk Link sent at him was any indication, he'd failed quite miserably.
Still smirking at him, Link resumed talking, basking in the easy camaraderie they shared.
''So, what brings you out here, my friend?''
Link seemed happy to take the distraction for what it was, as he fully shifted his attention towards Sidon, and his response.
Sidon hesitated, before answering. He was reminded of the depressing pattern he'd noticed in Link's recent behaviour; his tendency to look at Sidon, and see the ghost of his sister in his place. It always passed before too long, but there was always that one moment in their conversations where the quiet grief that now perpetually surrounded Link rose to an howling crescendo, before being forcefully crushed by Link's iron will.
A somewhat undisciplined, selfish side of Sidon thought that that was unfair. However, unflattering comparisons to his sister were nothing new to the Prince, and Link always tried so hard to not let their shared loss poison their relationship. Sidon could never blame Link for his pain.
Besides, Link was always so earnest with Sidon, and had admitted (to Sidon's internal delight) that he greatly enjoyed spending time with him. Link did not try to goddesses forbid replace Mipha with him, or see him as a surrogate for his late sister, but rather he appreciated Sidon for who he was. However, just as Sidon knew that he would never escape his sister's long shadow, he would never be able to look at Link without that reflection of pain staring back at him.
Although time may dull the pain, and the duration of episodes would decrease, Link would never be able to look upon Sidon, without seeing the shade of what he had lost. Of whom he had lost.
Sidon knew that. And by Lord Jabu-Jabu, he tried to accept it.
It was this reasoning that led Sidon to be conservative with the truth; a skill beyond compulsory for any politician. After all, what Link did not know would not hurt him, and, truth be told, Link could probably do with not being reminded of his dearest friend at the current moment.
''Why, do I need a specific reason to...'' he stumbled in his speech. His hands flailed, gesturing to the quaint beauty of the nature surrounding them. Link looked faintly amused at Sidon's difficulty.
Finally finding his voice, Sidon continued, somewhat abashed. ''It is indeed a beautiful view.'' He conceded.
Link smiled, and gave an concurring hum, turning to the horizon once again. Sidon approached Link again, to stand at his side, and look upon the sea together.
For a moment, the only sound was the whistling of the sea breeze, until Link's soft voice once again reached up to caress Sidon's ears.
''And it's made even better, by having you here to enjoy it with.'' Link let out another heaving sigh, this one seemingly lighter.
Sidon was flattered by Link's remark, although instinct told him that Link was far more wistful than his words would have indicated...
As if egged on by an invisible prompt, Link sighed again, the invisible weight resettling on his shoulders like a cursed shawl, before turning back towards Sidon, then thinking better of it, and averting his gaze to the horizon.
Sidon counted two more instances, where Link attempted to initiate a follow-up, before his words escaped him. It was oddly disquieting to witness; a sharp contrast from Link's usual purposeful nature. Still, Sidon did not hurry him. Link would surely be able to formulate his words without his prompting.
So engrossed in his own analysis of Link's uncharacteristic hesitance, Sidon almost missed when Link finally rediscovered his voice, before being startled out of his scrutiny by the sentence's contents.
''Mipha must have loved it out here, don't you think?''