#maplewrites

     Sidon spends his days on the perimeter of the domain, gazing out into the world beyond, wondering. His nights are spent either in the town square staring up at his sister’s statue or in his chambers, once more looking out past the borders of the land of his people. After seeing Ruta make its way to the mountaintop (by Mipha’s hand, who else could it possibly have been, only she could control it with such grace), he’d expected  to see Zelda again, despite what she’d said just before making her way inside the massive piece of ancient machinery. He’s desperate to know what had happened, if Mipha’s spirit is truly free, if there is even a tiny fraction of a threat still hanging over his people regarding Vah Ruta, if Zelda is—

     Sidon shakes his head and runs his hands down his face haggardly as he turns away from the railing of the balcony just outside his chambers. He shouldn’t care where Zelda is. He should be beside himself with joy that he’ll never have to see the one who failed his sister, failed all of Hyrule, and cost Mipha her life, ever again. Instead, he’s worried about her. He may even go so far as to say he misses her.

     The water of his sleeping pool is soothing as he steps into it, but it does nothing to clear his mind. Nothing has been able to that as of late—not having one-sided conversations with his sister’s likeness immortalized in luminous stone, not training with his spear until his arms tremble with exhaustion, not the thrilling weightlessness of the apex of an arc out of the water, just before the descent. His thoughts are occupied with golden hair and green eyes full of determination and sadness. The conversation he’d had with Bazz a few days prior plays over in his head.

     Hope. She gave me hope.

     Sidon sighs and walks down the steps into his sleeping pool, laying back and letting the water support him. If he floats in the right spot, he can see the night sky. The way the stars are glittering reminds him of the adornments on the Lightscale Trident. Memories of Mipha that belong to him rather than his father or the elders are few and far between, but he remembers watching her train rather clearly. She’d been unmatched in her spearmanship, her movements smooth and graceful, the trident shining as it arced through the air. Mipha’s prized possession hasn’t seen the sun in as many years as she’s been gone—it sits on a special mount in the armory, slowly gathering dust.

     A splash interrupts the silence as Sidon rises out of the pool and makes for his father’s chambers. King Dorephan is most likely asleep, but that doesn’t occur to him as he walks through the palace halls, water still dripping from his scales and void of any of his adornments. He knocks twice on the king’s chambers before entering, unsurprised to see him rubbing sleep from his eyes as he groggily lifts his head out of the water.

     “Sidon?” Dorephan says. “Is something the matter?”

      “It’s my doing that Zelda hasn’t returned,” Sidon says. “I treated her so harshly—I refused to let her near Vah Ruta, despite what you and Muzu said. Just before she entered it, she told me she wasn’t coming back, and she was gone before I could protest.”

     “My son. Calm yourself.” Dorephan swims to the edge of his massive sleeping pool where Sidon stands. “I am sure that you are not the only reason she has not returned. This place must hold many memories for her that are painful now, and she has other work to do.”

     “Even so, I want to make things right. The things I said to her, Father—I—”

     “My son,” Dorephan says again, softly. He rests one massive hand atop Sidon’s head. It’s an act he hasn’t performed in years, not since Sidon would easily fit in his whole hand. The prince can’t help closing his eyes and letting out a long, shaky breath. “I have not seen you so troubled in a long time.”

     “I feel like a fool,” Sidon confesses. “I spent so long blaming her for Mipha’s death and the state of Hyrule. The prince and other Hylians as well, but Zelda especially. I hated her, Father. The mere sight of her made my blood boil.”

     “As much as it saddens me to hear that, I do understand,” Dorephan says. “We lost so much. You lost so much. The influence of the elders certainly did not help.”

     “I shouldn’t have let their opinions become my own.”

     “You were a child, Sidon. You cannot blame yourself too much.” Sidon sighs once more and nods. “Now, while I do not at all mind you seeking comfort, I cannot imagine that is all you came for.”

     “Indeed,” Sidon agrees, straightening his spine as Dorephan returns his hand to his side. “As I said, I intend to make things right. While I can’t say my feelings toward Zelda are all positive, I can acknowledge that she was undeserving of my harsh words and disdain.”

     “I am glad you realize this,” Dorephan says with a nod. “How is it you intend to make things right?”

     “By giving her the Lightscale Trident,” Sidon answers. “I know you intended to gift it to her upon her return. It’s what Mipha would have wanted, and therefore it’s what I want.”

     “And you intend to deliver it to her?”

     “With your permission, yes. I—I want to see her myself. Whether she accepts them or not, I want to offer her my apologies personally.”

     “You are a noble soul, my son,” Dorephan says with a pleased chuckle. “You have not only my permission, but my insistence. With the threat from Vah Ruta lifted and many of the monsters around the Domain slain by the hero herself, we will be well protected.”

     “Thank you, Father,” Sidon says. “I promise not to be gone for too long.”

     “Take all the time you need.” There’s a twinkle in Dorephan’s eyes that Sidon can’t quite decipher, so he dismisses it for the moment. “She may be difficult to track down with that curious slate at her hip. Prepare for a long journey, and take heart.”

     “I will,” Sidon reassures. “I apologize for barging in at such a late hour.”

     “Not at all,” Dorephan dismisses with a wave of his hand. “You can always come to me.”

     Sidon smiles. “Yes, Father. I know.” He bids the king goodnight and turns to leave, only to be stopped by a call of his name just before the door.

     “I am proud of you, my son,” Dorephan says with a warm, if tired, smile. “I know you shall make a fine king someday.”

     Sidon is struck speechless by this. Rather than answer with his usual eloquence, he simply ducks his head and stammers out a thank you. Dorephan nods and slowly sinks back into his pool, and Sidon takes that as his dismissal. His father is snoring even before the door closes behind him.

     Sidon departs the Domain several days later, carrying the Lightscale Trident as well as his own spear and a silver bow. He also bears a bag packed for him by Kodah and Marot, one of the innkeepers and the owner of the general store, respectively. It contains all manner of supplies, cooking ingredients, and meals made for the road. His final and arguably most valuable gift is a small wooden chest contained in his bag that holds many an elixir crafted by Laflat. They’re different from the one Sidon had (begrudgingly) given Zelda at the start of her journey to the Domain—they actually work for Zora. Laflat had explained what she’d done differently—something about making the base with water from the Domain, or perhaps putting a few of her scales in the mixtures—but Sidon can’t recall exactly what she’d said. If he’s being honest, he’s not sure how much of it he understands. He isn’t unintelligent, but his mind is more catered to battle strategy than magic or science.

     Tracking Zelda down does in fact prove to be a tricky feat. For one thing, nearly everyone he approaches stares up at him with wide eyes and a slack jaw. He supposes that many of the people he encounters haven’t seen a Zora in person before, let alone one of his stature. When he does manage to get people to answer his questions about having seen Zelda, they give him vague answers, unable to remember her face in the sea of travelers they see each day. Sidon nearly gives up after days of unsuccessful searching, but the sight of Ruta in the distance is enough to spur him on.

     He’s lost track of how long he’s been gone when he sees a most unusual sight. From downriver, it had looked to be an enormous insect, but upon closer inspection, the creature stuck on its back and flailing on the bridge above him is a Hylian wearing a frankly enormous backpack in the shape of a beetle. Sidon leaps from the water and onto the rickety wooden bridge, landing just short of the Hylian’s head. He takes hold of the beetle backpack’s horns and pushes, helping the Hylian to stand upright.

     “Oh, thank you!” the Hylian says, dusting himself off.

     “No problem at all, my friend,” Sidon says with a smile. “If you don’t mind me asking, how did you find yourself in that position?”

     The Hylian seems unfazed by his height or the fact that he’s a Zora as he cranes his neck to look him in the eye, much to Sidon’s relief. “Someone on horseback came barreling by and knocked me onto my back!” he huffs. “They didn’t even stop to see if I was alright. Imagine if a monster had come by, or if I’d fallen into the river!”

     “Dreadful,” Sidon says with a grimace.

     “Yeah,” the Hylian agrees, sighing. “But, anyway! Thank you so much for helping me! My name is Beedle, by the way. I normally sell the things I carry here, but as payment, I can give you something for free as a thank you!”

     “No need,” Sidon says, raising his hand to stop Beedle from reaching for the straps on his pack. “But if I may ask you a few questions, I’d be quite grateful.”

     “Of course!” Beedle says enthusiastically, drawing another smile from Sidon.

     “Do you travel around Hyrule frequently?”

     “Do I? I’ve been just about everywhere you can go!” Beedle gesticulates grandly, seemingly unfazed by what must be the massive weight on his shoulders. “From Hebra to Faron, I go wherever things can be bought and sold!”

     “Then have you encountered a young woman by the name of Zelda? Golden hair, green eyes, and carrying more weapons than should be strictly possible?”

     “Oh, yes! I see Zelda quite frequently,” Beedle says. “She’s my most loyal customer! I don’t know exactly what it is she gets up to on her adventures, but she’s very kind to me. She even gave me this!” He reaches into a pocket on his backpack and presents Sidon with a bright yellow beetle contained in a glass bottle along with a few leaves. “Isn’t it beautiful?”

     “It is,” Sidon agrees. “Would you mind telling me where you saw her last? And if you happen to know where she’s going?”

     “Only if you tell me why you’re looking for her,” Beedle says as he lovingly puts the beetle back in its little pocket. “My heart may belong to Hyrule, but I still don’t want to see anything bad happen to her.”

     Sidon sighs and scratches at the back of his neck. “Zelda helped me and my people in our time of need. Despite all of this, I was—unkind to her. I wish to mend our relationship as best I can.” Beedle studies his face with a scrutinizing eye for a long moment before nodding.

     “You get good at reading people after meeting as many as I have, and you seem like you’re being sincere,” he says. “The last time I saw her, Zelda said she was headed to Hateno Village. Follow the river south until it leads through the Dueling Peaks, then go east.”

     “Thank you,” Sidon says. “Truly. When you see her next, would you tell her I’m searching for her?”

     “Sure, but you’ll probably see her before I do! That, and I don’t know your name.”

     “Oh! Forgive my rudeness. I am Prince Sidon of the Zora.”

     “A prince? Wow! I don’t think I’ve ever met royalty before!”

     “Perhaps not,” SIdon chuckles. “Thank you again, Beedle. I wish you safe travels.”

     “You too!”

     With that, Sidon gives Beedle a wave and dives back into the water. The gasp of wonder that meets his ears as he twists through the air brings a smile to his face once more. Over the course of his journey, the grip of hatred and anger over his heart regarding Hylians has begun to loosen. He still can’t quite fathom completely forgiving those responsible for what had happened a century before, but he’s able to set aside his negative feelings aside for those such as Beedle, who are simply trying to live their lives in the wake of tragedy. It’s too easy for him to forget the relative brevity of their lifespans compared to his.

     Sidon follows the river south, just as Beedle guided him, keeping an eye out for the Dueling Peaks. The occasional lizalfos or octorock blocks his path, but he makes quick work of them with his spear. They’re nothing compared to the behemoth he’d faced years prior. The next few days pass like this: swimming for long periods, dispatching enemies as they come, and asking passerby for directions to ensure he’s heading in the right direction. Before long, he reaches the stable on the other side of the Dueling Peaks. He inquires about Zelda and is directed again to Hateno. The river grows too small for him to swim in as it passes through a fort surrounded by the decayed remains of guardians, so he’s forced to continue on foot. He finally catches up with her as he emerges from the forest surrounding the fort.

     It’s a rather violent reunion—there’s a massive explosion below the cliffs on the other side of the river followed by the pained screeching of bokoblins and the stench of burning flesh. Sidon catches a glimpse of yellow and a high-pitched chime before a red barrel adorned with a white skull and crossbones hurtles toward the monster camp below the cliffs, exploding on impact. The screeching doubles in volume, and the prince watches as Zelda descends upon the monsters making the noise.

     Even from the river on the outskirts of the camp, Sidon can hear the wet thud of blade meeting flesh and smell the metallic-sulfur of monster blood. Zelda wrenches her sword from the torso of the first bokoblin and dodges a strike from another just before it hits her. She’s behind it before it can retaliate, bringing her blade down upon its head. It catches on the horn atop the creature’s skull, causing the already chipped metal to splinter and break off. Zelda takes this in stride, shoving the now jagged blade in the bokoblin’s neck. It falls with a pig-like squeal, its bat falling out of its grip and into the fire at the center of the camp. One last monster flees for its life, but arrows riddle its back before it can get far. Zelda stands in the center of the destruction, breath coming in pants, purple blood smeared across her face.

     Just as Sidon climbs onto the shore, he spots a stray bokoblin out of the corner of his eye. It’s severely burned and limping, but alive. Its bluish-green skin is colored red as it nocks a fire arrow and aims for a bomb barrel that had escaped the initial detonation, laying on its side behind a pillar. Out of Zelda’s field of vision. No more than ten paces from where she now crouches, wrenching the fang out of the charred remains of a bokoblin.

     There’s no time to think. Sidon charges toward Zelda, grabbing her around the waist and hauling her up with one arm. She (expectedly, really) lets out a shriek of surprise as she’s lifted off the ground. Behind them, the fire arrow whizzes through the air, carrying with it the sound of roaring flames. It explodes upon contact with the bomb barrel at the same moment that Sidon leaps into the air, aiming for the river. White-hot shrapnel makes contact with his scales. The pain barely registers as he and Zelda crash into the water, breaking the surface a moment later. Zelda squirms out of his grip and hauls herself up on the bank opposite the camp, coughing.

     “What in Hylia’s name—” she wheezes.

     “You wouldn’t have noticed in time,” Sidon says through gritted teeth. The source of the tension in his jaw isn’t sourced from any frustration with her, but the feeling of wooden splinters and a few rather sharp rocks embedded in his back. He hisses as he climbs on the bank beside her, collapsing on his stomach.

     “Don’t move,” Zelda says. There’s no trace of harshness in her tone as there had been before, but an edge is still present. Sidon obeys without question. Now that the adrenaline is no longer coursing through his veins, he has no desire to move. “This isn’t going to feel good, but it will help.”

     Sidon grits his teeth as Zelda begins pulling the shrapnel from his back. She works efficiently, only taking a few minutes to finish. Sidon moves to sit up, but she stops him with a single touch. Soft blue light radiates from her hands as she passes over his wounds, bringing with it the soothing coolness of running water and the scent of salt. It feels like—

     “Mipha’s Grace,” Sidon says softly. Zelda merely nods, eyes flitting to the trident strapped to his back. She sits back on her heels when she’s finished, and Sidon takes that as his cue to sit up.

     “That was incredibly stupid,” Zelda says. “But thank you.”

     “No need,” Sidon replies. They stare at each other for a long moment, tense silence stretching between them. Words refuse to come to him no matter how hard he searches.

     After what seems like an eternity, Zelda gets to her feet and motions for Sidon to follow. They go back the way he’d come, into the trees and to a hastily-made encampment standing near a small pond. Zelda sits on a moss-covered log near the fire, turning a spit skewering a few Hyrule bass. Sidon’s mouth waters. It’s been too long since he’s had freshly caught fish—he’s been so focused on his task of finding Zelda that he hasn’t bothered with anything other than the rations packed for him.

     “What are you doing here, Sidon?” Zelda asks finally.

     “I was looking for you,” he answers. “I have been for a little while.”

     “I see,” she says, eyes intense and unreadable. “Why?”

     “A few reasons.”

     Sidon retrieves the Lightscale Trident from his back as he sits on the log next to her. It glitters in the light of the fire, magnificent as ever. Zelda turns her attention from the fish to stare at it. Silence descends upon them once more. Sidon is the one to break it this time.

     “This belonged to Mipha, as I’m sure you remember,” he says. “My father intended to give it to you upon your return to the Domain, both as a reward for freeing Vah Ruta and a hope that Mipha’s spirit would guard you as long as you carried it.”

     “She already does.” Zelda stares at her hands, refusing to look him in the eye.

     “Even so, I’m certain she would want you to have it,” Sidon says. He presses the handle into her hands, and she finally looks up at him. “So please.”

     “If you insist,” she replies. She holds the trident close to her for a moment before gingerly resting it on the ground behind them. “But I must ask—why deliver it to me personally? I thought you made it clear that you never wanted to see me again.”

     “I…”

     Sidon has thought about what he’d say to Zelda when he finally found her ever since he left Zora’s Domain. He’s run through the speech in his head time and time again, so sure that she would be impressed by his eloquence and grant him forgiveness without a second thought. Now, though, the words so carefully crafted in his mind refuse to come to him. It’s entirely too difficult to plan what he’s going to say when she’s looking at him like that, emerald piercing straight into him, straight through him— 

     “Sidon?”

     “I’m sorry,” he blurts, decidedly un-princelike. “I let my pain and anger blind me and I lashed out at you. What happened all those years ago can’t be changed, and staying angry with you isn’t useful to anyone. I nearly stopped you from doing the very thing that set Mipha’s spirit free. I may be undeserving of your forgiveness, but all I can do is ask for it.”

     Zelda stares up at him, eyes wide. Sidon doesn’t waver, though he still feels as if she’s seeing right into his soul. He nearly yelps in surprise when she surges forward and wraps her arms around his neck in an embrace. It’s a nearly perfect recreation of their last interaction before Zelda boarded Ruta, but this time, Sidon returns Zelda’s gesture. All he can hear is the gentle crackling of the fire, the wind blowing over the cliffs, and the croaking of frogs, though he’s sure his pounding heart is loud and clear in Zelda’s ears.

     “I’m going to make this right,” she says. “I won’t fail again. I’ll free the rest of the Champions, just as I did Mipha, and vanquish Ganon once and for all. This I promise you.”

     “I believe in you,” Sidon says, prompting her to tighten her grip. “Know you are always welcome in Zora’s Domain.”

     “Thank you,” Zelda whispers. She releases her grip on him, wiping her face with the back of her hand. Sidon averts his gaze, giving her a moment of privacy.

     The charcoal-like scent of burning food wafts through the air, accompanied by a curse from Zelda and the sound of her scrambling back to the fire. The fish aren’t burned too badly—there’s only a faint black mark on one side. Zelda sighs and removes them from the spit, offering one to Sidon, who gratefully accepts. They’re plain, lacking even a bit of salt, but the flesh is hot and deliciously flaky as well as the only freshly prepared food he’s had in days.

     “I’m normally a better cook than this, I promise,” Zelda says, and Sidon chuckles. She sends him a glare out of the corner of her eye, but there’s no anger behind it. She may even be smiling. The fire hisses and pops as water is poured over it and the ashes scattered.

     “Thank you for the fish, regardless of them being burned.” Sidon laughs when Zelda glares at him again.

     “I was going to offer to take you back to Zora’s Domain, but perhaps I’ll retract my offer,” she sniffs in faux haughtiness as she finishes clearing her encampment.

     “I assure you I don’t need an escort.”

     “Oh, I don’t doubt that. But I can get you there much more quickly than you could ever get there on foot.”

     “And how is that?” Sidon asks, head tilted slightly.

     Zelda doesn’t answer. Instead, she pulls the Sheikah Slate from her hip and pulls up the map, tapping on one of the many blue icons. She extends her hand and looks up at him expectantly. He takes it a bit hesitantly, taking note of the way his hand dwarfs hers. Before he can ask her what it is she’s planning, she taps on the Slate once more and the world dissolves into blue light.

     Sidon stumbles a bit when he and Zelda materialize on the pedestal of the shrine in the Domain. He doesn’t realize how tightly he’s gripping her hand until she visibly winces, and he relinquishes it with mumbled apologies. Were it not for the twinkle of amusement in her eyes, he’d feel a bit more guilty. His scales prickle as he runs his hands up and down his arms as if to check that all of him is there.

     “Well,” he says, “you certainly weren’t kidding.”

     Zelda laughs, and his chest tightens a bit. The ghostly blue of luminous stone combined with the faint glow of the Sheikah Slate’s display playing off her face makes for a captivating picture, made only more so when she looks up at him with a smile. The shrine chamber of the Domain gets very little daylight, but Sidon swears he can feel the sun’s warmth on his scales.

     “I should get back,” Zelda says, snapping him out of his reverie. “I believe I’m on the brink of deciphering one of the puzzles a shrine is locked behind. Something about a statue and dark light.”

     “But you’ll be back?” Sidon nearly bites his tongue, embarrassed by his overly hopeful tone.

     “I’ll return,” Zelda promises. “And Sidon...thank you.”

let's talk about krolia. in this continuity she not only found the blue lion, but also left a record of it for keith to find. she's connected to it in ways i am hesitant to mention here since 1) i don't know if i want to commit to them and 2) if i do end up getting there it would be a bit annoying to spoil it here. also, he doesn't know she's an alien

i always thought the fraunhofer line thing was a bit silly with it matching the rock formations yadayadayada. here the rock formation line thing is meant to be a signal (!) from the blue lion, but it's not the fraunhofer line thing they're tracking to pinpoint it. idk, i wrote this months ago and any amount of research i did into that has been effectively erased

fun fact: i originally wrote it so the galra warship was replaced by two smaller fighter ships, under the idea that a giant fucking alien warship in the sky (as well as a flying mechanical cat) would set off some alarms on Earth. i put the warship back in because i want those alarms to go off. the drone fighter is just so lance can have an "oh shit, did i just kill a dude" moment that i think should happen in most kids tv shows

up next is the (as mentioned before) hunk's interlude. after that, i'm not sure. i mean i have a roadmap but nothing after that is concrete. namely, i need to wrap up The Rise of Voltron (what a pilot episode) while also figuring out how to manage keith's and shiro's interludes. the former should be manageable with the next planned major story (akin to signals and messages, tentatively titled 'pilots'—also, messages was originally called pilots), but to include both keith and shiro as interludes (well, shiro's is more of an epilogue like the three-body problem is more of a prologue), i need a fourth major story, which i only have vague ideas about. doesn't really matter, since i'll probably never get to it (hence why this lengthy write-up exists at all)

some implications in this chapter (also, stated in the tags): keith and shiro are brothers in this continuity. or, half-brothers, as i imagine it. they share a dad

also, somewhat implied in the last chapter is that keith and pidge know each other. this makes sense, considering their relatives' involvement in the kerberos mission.

keith and hunk also know each other, which will be detailed in the upcoming interlude which i may have talked about in the past. it's hunk's interlude, which wraps up the garrison trio interludes (the three-body problem, binary stars)