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Link hates the night. He knows it as a frantic time, the chirping songs of restless crickets in the grass acting as a countdown to danger. The beats of the shy insects hit his ears to warn him, and he scrambles to find a lonesome corner where he won't find himself swarmed by Stalmoblins and those pesky Keese that seem to track him wherever he goes. He'll hide himself behind a bush or a tree and hold his breath, hoping he won't find an army of monsters around the next corner, and when he does, his limbs feel heavy from the weight of the day's adventures. His eyelids hang low as his body swings his sword in the way he's burned into his muscles as reflex, and all he can do is cut down towers of bones and claws and fury as he prays he'll make it out. He knows the green light of Mipha's Grace all too well at this point, as each night he doesn't find somewhere to tuck himself away and hide, he faces the risk of seeing the gentle spirit of his old friend. When the sun goes down, Link can only hope he's got some element of fire on him, and when he doesn't, he's out of luck.
Sleeping doesn't always come easy to Link, either. The constant threat of the Calamity looms over his frame at every second of the day, and when he closes his eyes, sometimes he sees his own failures stuck to the back of his eyelids; the faces of his fallen friends and the people who have been hurt while he was unconscious for a century and the ruins of towns that used to be full of life. And sometimes when he tries to drift into slumber, he fears he might wake up once again in the Shrine of Resurrection, missing another 100 years as the world crept on without him. He can't count the number of nights he's spent laying in the grass, trying to find some comfort in the stars that only seem to scorn and mock him.
The moon is Link's worst enemy. The silence only feels like empty space. His heart races when the land turns in for the night, and his mind tosses and turns over every worry he keeps.
Link hates the night. But now, somehow, he might see something beautiful in it.
Maybe it's just the company he's found himself with. Sidon is a relatively new friend (and maybe a bit more than that), but a close one, nonetheless- not that the bar is very high, as Link often feels exceptionally lonely in the vast, quiet land of Hyrule. But Sidon is endlessly supportive, with that bright, horribly contagious smile, and his streams of pointless affections and praise. He treats Link like he knows him, not as the Hero of Hyrule, or as the Hylian Champion, but simply as Link. He's a graceful creature, poised and elegant and everything a prince should be, but he turns into a playful fool when Link comes to visit. And Link finds comfort in the Zora, selfishly basking in his light when sometimes it's the only thing that can keep him going. Sidon is one of Link's favorite things in the world, and he always leaps at the chance to visit Zora's Domain and distract the prince from his duties. They whisk each other away for lakeside picnics, for long walks in the hills and races in the water. Though no matter what activities the two get into, they always return to the Domain before dark, never staying out late enough to see the stars.
Tonight, Sidon decides to change that. He leads Link to the East Reservoir Lake, and the Hylian asks no questions. Though the cold wind makes Link tremble with memories, he holds the Zora's hand and follows him away from the safety of the Domain, because Link would follow Sidon anywhere the prince chose to take him. And while he usually feels anxious and unsteady during the evening time, something about the large, bright presence of Sidon is like a torch in the all-encompassing darkness, like a beacon of safety for Link to lay his trust on.
Sidon stands on the edge of the dock and looks out in awe at the stars reflecting off the smooth waters of the lake. Link stands by his side. Stars always feel like a mockery, viscous little things jeering at the hero as he curls into a ball and prays for the night to pass by faster. But when Sidon rests a gentle hand atop Link's head, the stars look different. Their reflection across the water looks like a painting, a gentle artwork made of careful strokes with a brush. And paintings always come from an artist's heart, Link knows, so what is there to hate about the stars?
Wordlessly, and for little reason, Link shuffles out of most of his clothes and sits on the edge of the dock. He lowers himself into the water very slowly, not because the water is particularly freezing- it's a surprisingly nice temperature, actually- but because he wants to savor the first feeling as the lake encompasses his skin. He slips into the water, pulling his arms out in long strokes to swim with the stars. Behind him, Sidon chuckles, and within seconds, the Zora has come to swim by his side. They move like raindrops, taking their time to glide through the water. There's no rush; the night will march on as slowly as it pleases, so Sidon and Link will do the same.
They come to a gentle stop in the middle of the lake, and Sidon turns over on his back so that Link can climb onto his stomach to sit. The Hylian catches his breath with deep inhales, dragging a hand back to push his wet bangs from his face. He looks up at the sky above them, dark and so incredibly large and lonely- an enemy, usually, but now, nothing more than an onlooker.
"Lovely, isn't it?" Sidon hums, his voice a pleasant rumble in the hushed air. His arms float effortlessly at his sides, his body having nowhere to go and nothing to do but sit here forever with Link.
The hero shrugs. He looks down at Sidon as the Zora's arm raises out of the water to tuck a stray hair behind Link's ear, and Link holds Sidon's palm to his chest. It feels warm there, despite the cool lake water they've both been submerged in.
Something is different, he realizes. The pink spots that line the Zora's crest have a subtle glow to them, like luminous stones have been pressed into his scales. Link runs a finger over them, enamored by the soft light they give off.
"Your scales," he croaks in the voice that's reserved only for certain ears.
Sidon yawns. "What of them?"
"They glow," the Hylian murmurs. "I hadn't realized."
"Oh!" Recognition flashes over Sidon's face, and he grins. "That's right, I suppose you wouldn't have seen them. Many Zora have bioluminescent qualities in the dark. It helps when swimming in deeper waters, usually."
"They're pretty," Link says.
"Do you think so? I'm flattered."
Maybe the nighttime isn't such a bad thing, Link thinks, if it allows him to see things like this.
He looks out and takes in the view of the landscapes that surround them. Vah Ruta is ever-present on its mountain, its back turned on the two swimmers. Out here, the usual chirps of crickets can't be heard. Link braces himself for the distant screech of Keese, or the sound of earth quaking as Stalkoblins rise out of the ground, but the silence remains, and it's still and lovely and comfortable. Maybe the quiet isn't so bad, when there's no pressure to fill it. Maybe the moon and the stars were never the nemesis Link made them out to be, and maybe they're just ornaments meant to decorate the sky.
Usually, the night feels lonely, but Link wouldn't have it any other way than just him and Sidon floating in the lake like they're the only people in the world.
Sidon used the word "lovely", and Link is starting to believe it. As the Hylian lays himself down and relaxes on top of Sidon's sturdy frame, his eyes close quite easily. With one hand on Link's back, the Zora prince begins to move easily through the water, gliding through the stars across the inky lake. And Link quietly thinks that if nights can be as comfortable as this, then maybe they're really not so bad.