Chapter Text
The first thing Link was aware of was the temperature. The cold air hit the bare skin of his face and hands with biting chill. His breath came out as steam. The blue light of the shrine made it feel even colder, as if he’d made the mistake of going to Mount Lanayru instead of Zora’s Domain.
The second thing he noticed were the pots. He’d never seen the ceramic fish-shaped vases in the shrine’s room before, and now a bunch of them were lying around. Not placed carefully in rows, but haphazardly gathered at base of the steps leading to the square. Some still had water in them.
The third thing was smoke. The acrid, eye-watering stench of fire, the black-fumed kind that raged and burned after lightning strikes, the wild kind.
Link ran.
It came from the Coral Reef. Kodah and Kayden held a korok leaf each and were frantically trying to waft away the evil-smelling smoke from the inn. Their daughter was mopping up water that spilled from the inn’s entrance and out into the square; it was grey from soot and bits of floating black debris. Sasan sat off to the side, scraping at the black muck that coated a warped cooking pot. He sighed. “I don’t think there’s a chance of saving this. I know a smith in Hateno- oh, hi Link!”
Link nodded to his fellow Hylian in greeting. “Is something wrong? Was there a fire?”
Sasan shook his head. He seemed more bemused than worried. “It looks worse than it is. See, what happened is that the Prince-”
“Linny! Hello!” Kodah shouted, running over. “Hey, long time no see, right? Anyway, are you here to see Prince Sidon? You should go meet him right now! Don’t worry about all this!”
Without giving Link time to respond to her rapid-fire questions, Kodah gently pushed him towards the steps leading up to the second level. Figuring that the innkeeper didn’t want him bothering her family as they cleaned up whatever it was that had occurred, Link headed upwards.
Halfway up the staircase he saw Trello. The old Zora had a beautifully crafted silver longbow in his hands. It was also the largest bow Link had ever seen; almost too large for even Trello to handle. It would easily outrange the more crudely made weapons of Lynels, while matching – or even surpassing – royal Hylian bows in power. Trello drew back the bowstring, then nodded in satisfaction at the twang as it snapped back.
Link walked up to him. Trello, engrossed in his inspection of the bow, didn’t seem to notice him. In the twilight, the Zora-metal reflected the darkening sky and gained an indigo hue along its graceful curves. Up close, he could see the carvings that adorned the weapon, spotting the triple crescent of the Zora royal emblem along with a design reminiscent of waves.
Link said, “Its very well-made.”
Trello squawked and, before Link could react, threw the bow over the railing. It twinkled briefly as it caught the weak light of the moon, then disappeared into the dark waters below. Link could only gape open-mouthed at him.
“Oh, that old thing?” Trello said. “You don’t want that! Trash! Terrible! Worthless! You definitely didn’t want it.”
Taking a step back to avoid the Zora’s frenzied, wide-eyed stare, Link mumbled, “…I never said I did?”
“Good! Because you don’t. Good day to you, Champion!”
With that, Trello hobbled down the stairs, leaving Link alone and very confused.
As he reached the top of the staircase he met Ledo. He had a bag of tools in his arms; he seemed to be counting them. “…and that makes eight! That’s all of them.”
“What are those for?” Link asked. He’d rarely seen Ledo wielding anything other than a hammer. These tools, however, were delicate things – spindly tongs and slender needles, clamps and wire and a cutter shaped like a crab’s claw.
“Hello, Link! These? They’re for making jewellery,” Ledo explained. He gestured at the silver bracer on his wrist. “Things like these.”
Link cursed himself for not realising that he could have gone to Ledo. Now it was too late. He comforted himself by reasoning that Ledo must have been busy earlier, and wouldn’t have been able to fashion Sidon’s gift anyway. “What were you making?”
“Me? Nothing. I actually just got these back from the Prince,” Ledo told him. Suddenly, the Zora looked guilty. Glancing around quickly, he said, “And now that I have, I need to go. It’s really late! Pleasedon’tmentionthejewellry.”
Link didn’t quite catch what Ledo had mumbled at the end, but he had already left. Link shrugged, and kept walking.
Sidon wasn’t at his usual place overlooking the square. Link decided to ask one of the Zora where he could find the Prince and spotted Laflat.
“Where’s Sidon?” Link asked. It was an innocent enough question, so he was surprised she jumped in shock.
“He’s… around the back… behind the throne room…” she said, quiet and hesitant. After another long pause, she added, “Just follow the path. All the way around. You’ll… see him.”
Link glanced down at the things in her arms; jars, bottles, a mortar and pestle. Sprigs of herbs, unfamiliar leaves, a hunk of what seemed to be the odd pale plants that could only be found in the region. Link’s curiosity was piqued, but his experience with the other Zora stopped him from prying. Laflat looked ready to flee at any moment.
So instead, he thanked her, and went to meet Sidon.
Sidon, who had been waiting all day for him.
Sidon, who would be expecting a Solstice gift.
Sidon, who called him things like ‘the greatest of Hylians’, who always thought the best of him, who would be smiling, eyes shining with excitement, tail twitching…
And all he had to offer was a useless sword that would quickly rust, a scarf that would get soaked with water, a bottle of Goron spice and trinkets that wouldn’t fit.
Link rounded the bend. Sidon stood at the very edge of the platform, staring up at the starry sky. Moonlight shimmered on his scales; flashes of silver against red, as if the prince was adorned with gemstones. When he sighed, the light shifted like seafoam on the waves. The sight made Link gasp.
Sidon turned, golden eyes widened in surprise. “Link! You’re here… already.”
“Sorry for being so late,” Link said. “Happy Winter Solstice?”
“Late? No, not at all, you came sooner than expected…” Sidon trailed off into silence, then shook his head and said,” And a happy Solstice to you as well, my love.”
But his voice lacked its usual jubilant energy, and the way his fins twitched told Link that he was nervous. Link locked gazes with him. After a brief contest of wills, Sidon relented and turned away guiltily, biting his lip as he stared at the floor.
Quietly, Sidon asked, “You have a gift for me?”
Link sucked in a breath, trying to discern the cause of his uncharacteristic solemness. Had Sidon been worried about him not showing up? Had he thought that Link wouldn’t have come at all?
Link reached for the Sheikah Slate, his fingers brushing the cold surface of the device, then stopped. His heart was beating a wildly in his chest. Sidon was looking at him, concerned, anxious, expectant. Breathing was suddenly difficult; he felt lightheaded as he tried to draw the cold night air into his lungs, air that carried the scent of fresh water and distant snow and the heavy, familiar smell of Sidon…
Sidon, who had leaned in close, frowning, worried.
The biting chill had left Link’s skin flushed and now as he became more flustered the blood was rushing to his head, adrenaline flooding his system as he frantically tried to come up with a solution, a way out, he had to do something.
And then through the mists of his panicking mind he remembered something… something that Mei had told him… I forget every single year and end up just giving… a kiss…
He kissed Sidon.
It wasn’t their first kiss, and it would be far from their last, but Sidon always reacted the same way. First, shock: a gasp muffled by Link’s lips against his own, soft and warm and pliant. Then, his lips would part, eagerly deepening the kiss. The briefest flick of his long tongue into Link’s mouth – always careful, always gentle. And Link would respond by standing on his toes and moaning encouragingly, reaching up a hand to cup Sidon’s chin and pull him down, pull him close because he wanted more of Sidon’s taste, Sidon’s warmth, Sidon’s love-
They broke apart for breath, the winter chill forgotten. Sidon laughed. “Was that my gift? Not unexpected, but very much appreciated! Thank you so much. As always, you know just want I want!”
Link smiled back at him, wondering just how to tell Sidon of his failure to get his gift. Sharing a kiss with the prince always left his mind a little fuzzy as his thoughts lingered on the feel of Sidon’s lips and the sweet heat of his mouth, and if Sidon had truly enjoyed that ‘gift’ then perhaps it would be best not to bring the matter up at all…
“Oh, Link, I’m so sorry!” Sidon said, suddenly. Link blinked rapidly, caught off-guard by the non-sequitur. Sidon buried his face in his hands and, speaking as if each word caused him immeasurable agony, told him, “I couldn’t get you a gift!”
Link stared at him dumbly in shock, which Sidon seemed to interpret as anger. The prince peeked through a gap in his fingers, flinched away, then hid his face again. His tail and fins twitched. There was a soft scraping sound as he ground his teeth together.
Then, he drew a deep breath, chest expanding like bellows. He straightened up. He balled his fists.
He knelt. With bowed head, one hand upon his knee and the other against the floor, the prince of the Zora knelt before Link. Quietly, he said, “This isn’t an excuse; you must understand that I fully understand how much of an honour it is to have been chosen by you to receive a Solstice gift. And I want you to know that I am thankful with all my heart that I have met you.”
Link wanted to comfort him, to tell him more than ever that he’d been at a loss for a gift as well.
But before he could speak, Sidon said, “Ever since my sister- that is to say, ever since the Calamity struck, I have used the Winter Solstice for training, so that I may become strong enough to succeed my father and protect my people. It was the only gift I felt worthy of them. Because of this, when Mei told me of your intentions, I resolved to find a gift for you myself. Something worthy of you, as lofty a goal as that is. But… I failed, Link. I have nothing for you. I’m so, so sorry-”
Link cut him off by lifting his chin so that he could look Sidon in the face. He instantly regretted it; Sidon’s eyes were wet with tears on the verge of spilling, his lips trembling. Link’s first instinct was to call him an idiot, and then tell Sidon that he had also been an idiot himself, but instead he hugged the Zora tightly.
Sidon returned his embrace – Link could feel his warm breath on the skin of his neck as Sidon told him, “At first, I’d settled on giving you one of my old bows, knowing your skill with archery.”
“That would have been perfect,” Link quickly replied, but Sidon pulled away and gave him a rueful grin.
“So I thought. I took the bow to Dento so that he could fix any damage time had caused to it, and when I explained what I intended, he… well, in my excitement, I quite forgot our difference in size. Even with your strength, that bow would have been too unwieldy for you to use.”
Link recalled the bow Trello had thrown away. It pained him to admit it, but to him, a bow that size would have been as useless as the flameblade was to Sidon.
“Then,” Sidon continued, “I decided to give you some of the ointment I use when I get wounded, knowing that your job guarding Queen Zelda would result in injuries from time to time. It’s a recipe given to me by my mother, although Mipha never had to use it, of course.”
Link, who had begun to wonder whether the gods had decided to play a cruel prank on solstice day, said, “That sounds nice. Why didn’t you use that?”
“Well, while I was preparing it, I remembered that one of its effects was to promote healthy growth of scale. I wasn’t certain which ingredient caused this effect, and what it would do to Hylians, so I couldn’t fix it and had to find you another gift.”
“It could have had no effect! I would have used it anyway!”
“That’s why I couldn’t risk giving it to you,” Sidon chided, tapping Link’s nose. The Champion retaliated by sticking his tongue out. Sidon chuckled. “After that, I thought to fall back on what the Zora consider a reliable Solstice gift: the traditional Zora necklace. Most Zora have several, but I was quite certain you didn’t have one yet and would appreciate the gesture at least.”
“I do appreciate the gesture!” Link said. “It’s okay if you didn’t finish making it.”
“Actually, I did finish it. And then I realised that your neck is much shorter than that of a Zora.”
At that point, Link was absolutely certain that they were being punished by fate for some grave sin. Patting Sidon’s head fins, Link told him, “That’s fine. It’s an… easy mistake…”
Sidon leaned into his touch, turning his head slightly so that Link could stroke the sensitive spot where his fin joined his head. Humming happily, Sidon continued, “At that point, it was getting late. I’m embarrassed to admit that I panicked, thinking that you would appear at the shrine at any moment. And your appetite is no secret, so I thought… to try my hand at Hylian cookery…”
Link winced. He remembered the burning smell and the smoke coming from the Coral Reef.
Seeing his expression, Sidon mumbled, “I’m sorry. The inn is out of commission due to the fumes, but I had a bed prepared in my own quarters in case you wanted to stay the night. It’s the least I can offer you. Which is to say that it’s wholly inadequate as a gift. Please, I’m so-”
Link shushed him by putting a finger to his lips. Solemnly, he said, “Stop apologising. I’ve thought of a gift you can give me in return for the kiss.”
Sidon instantly perked up. “Yes?”
Link leaned in and, whispering, explained to Sidon what he could give him. He leaned back so that he could watch the blush spread across Sidon’s cheeks as Sidon gasped, then grinned.
“For you, love? I’ll give both.”