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Breakfast with his father is not an occasion Bazz looks forward to, especially when lately his days are filled with endless work and chaos. But after a solid ten minutes of pacing back and forth in his quarters, he decides he should just get it over with.
The plaza is near empty when he makes his way through, though that cannot only be attributed to the early hour. There’s also the fact that several weeks have passed since Vah Ruta awoke, and for the same amount of time they haven’t seen the sun. Bazz likes gloomy weather, the way it’s soft and melancholic, but even he’s begun to miss the warmth.
No matter the weather, Seggin’s disposition remains the same, which disappoints Bazz more than it surprises him. He doesn’t comprehend how his father can be so disagreeable at such an early hour, but then he supposes he has the tendency to be the same way. It’s that little voice in his head which reminds him of this, the one that sounds an awful lot like Rivan.
“Well, you could’ve cleaned up a bit more, Bazz,” Seggin chastises once he walks through the doors of his home. “Sometimes it seems you forget the expectations of your position.”
“Good morning to you too, father,” Bazz grumbles, and he only gets away with it because Seggin has walked off into the kitchen.
They have salted bass and boiled eggs to eat and while Bazz enjoys this combination, he can’t help but notice it’s less colorful than his father’s usual diet, which is filled with fruits and vegetables not commonly found around the Domain. It’s yet another consequence of Vah Ruta’s resurrection, but he’s not eager to stay around to discuss it.
However, Seggin holds a finger up before Bazz can push his chair out from under the table.
“There is something I’d like to show you,” Seggin announces, and he rises from his seat to retrieve something from his bedroom. He returns with two bundles of blue fabric that are too thick to see through.
“Voltfruit,” Seggin informs as he unravels one of the bundles to reveal a spiky, pink fruit. “This beautiful specimen was brought here all the way from Gerudo Town. I had to travel down the river to obtain it from a merchant, but it was worth it.”
“You can’t have gone to so much trouble for a single fruit, father,” Bazz admonishes.
“Oh, you are too quick to assume,” Seggin chides. “This is no ordinary fruit, I assure you. One bite of its skin renders the consumer invincible to a certain element. Perhaps you can guess what that might be, seeing as you seem to possess more knowledge than I.”
It’s clearly a challenge, but Bazz won’t take the bait. “Nothing comes to mind, unfortunately.”
“As I thought,” Seggin scoffs in that way that always infuriates Bazz. “Electricity, my son—a cruel and dangerous element. But if I ate this I would be like no other Zora, then I could take on Vah Ruta myself.”
Bazz bites his tongue so he won’t give his father the satisfaction of an outburst. Besides, Seggin is clearly committed to this absurd plan, and when he reaches that point there’s often little that can be done to change his mind.
Bazz clears his throat and then asks, “What’s in the other cloth?”
“Ah yes,” Seggin breathes out with excitement. He unfolds the fabric and upon exposure to air, electricity crackles from the tip of a single shock arrow.
Seggin stares darkly at the captain, clearly expecting a startled reaction that Bazz refuses to grant him.
“Where did you even find that?” he asks calmly, and the disappointment is clear in his father’s scowl.
“That’s none of your concern, Bazz. Though I’m certain you will want to witness my inevitable victory against that ferocious Lynel.”
“Maybe you’re being hasty, father.”
“I most certainly am not,” Seggin snaps, banging his fist against the table. “I will not have you questioning my decisions when I am the only one stepping up to save our people.”
It’s undeniably an attack against Bazz, but he won’t be the one to remind his father that he’d be angry whether Bazz stepped up or not. If Seggin wants to be the hero, then Bazz will let him.
“Fine then. Good day, father,” he says before standing, making sure to shove his chair back so it lets out an annoying squeak. Seggin expectedly calls after him, stating that he was about to order him to get out anyway.
Bazz spends the rest of the day in his office attempting to do paperwork, but his thoughts keep drifting from budgeting to his father, much to his dismay. It’s not until Rivan comes wandering through the door that Bazz truly gives up and shoves the hopelessly incomplete documents into his desk drawer.
“Did you hear?” Rivan questions with unadulterated amazement. “The prince found a Hylian, and he actually came all the way here.”
Bazz is well aware of Prince Sidon’s incredible plan to save the Domain. He did not receive this information from Sidon directly, rather he overheard the Elders discussing it one day and then grilled Laflat shortly afterwards since he didn’t think they would tell him anything. Unfortunately, she wasn’t very eager to converse with him either, and so Bazz had to settle for sneaking into her office to read through her notes.
It’s not something he’s particularly proud of. Or well, maybe he’s a little proud.
The point is, while Sidon’s plan is not nearly as moronic as his father’s, it also doesn’t seem any more plausible. He can’t imagine some random Hylian would go to such lengths to save them, but then Sidon often has the tendency to surprise him.
“Unbelievable,” Bazz exhales in reply. Case in point.
“I thought the same. And even less believable, it’s a Hylian we know rather well.”
Bazz squints at this information. “Who?”
“Link,” Rivan answers. “And he looks exactly like he did the last time we saw him! Did you know Hylians could age that well, or live that long?”
“No, that’s impossible. He must be lying.”
Rivan leans over Bazz’s desk with a slightly manic look to his eyes. “I swear to you, Bazz. It was him.”
If Bazz is correct, Link should be 120 by now, which means he should look like an elderly Hylian, and he certainly should not be capable of making it all the way to the Domain on his own.
“Right,” Bazz accepts, though he’ll have to see it to believe it. “I need your help with something,” he says next.
“Sure, what is it?”
He rises from his chair and goes to check that no one is around the corner before he returns to Rivan to say, “We need to break into my father’s house.”
Rivan snorts with amusement. “You know, there’s nothing wrong with just going to the tavern to have a pint.”
“It’s not a bonding activity, Rivan,” Bazz deadpans, or attempts to. It’s difficult to repress the smile that creeps onto his face.
“Okay, but is there a reason we’re breaking into his house, or are you just reverting to your old adolescent ways?”
“There is a reason,” Bazz promises. “He keeps a shock arrow somewhere in there and I have to get rid of it before he does something stupid.”
“A shock arrow? What is he using that for?”
“To build his immunity to it, that way when he goes up against the Lynel on the mountain he won’t die from a single hit.” And Bazz realizes something then. “He’ll be furious when he finds out that Hylian is here to take that thing down himself.”
“Link,” Rivan insists. “I swear it’s really him.”
“I believe you,” Bazz says as he makes his way for the door.
Rivan barks a laugh and punches him in the shoulder. “No, you do not, jerk.”
The entrance to Seggin’s home is empty, just as Bazz expected. His father follows a very strict routine and by this time he should be on his way to a council meeting.
“It should be in the bedroom,” Bazz instructs as he makes a beeline for the second room in the space. His father’s quarters are never very neat, but a shock arrow isn’t an easy thing to miss.
“Maybe it’s in one of those drawers, or even the wardrobe,” Rivan suggests.
They haven’t made much progress—or more accurately, no progress at all—when someone enters the main room, grumbling in a way so like Seggin. Bazz and Rivan share a panicked look before quickly ducking behind the wardrobe.
“Now what?” Rivan mouths, looking properly befuddled.
“I’m thinking,” Bazz replies. He gets a peek at Seggin over the furniture and finds him scavenging through the bookcase for something.
“For Hylia’s sake,” Seggin murmurs to himself. “Where has that blasted journal gone?”
Bazz searches the bedroom and is overcome by a feeling of dread when he spots his father’s leather-bound journal resting on the corner of his desk. Naturally, today would be the one day he forgot to bring it with him.
He gestures towards the desk and Rivan seems to understand, or at least he doesn’t try to stop Bazz when he walks quietly to grab the journal. With Seggin’s back turned and face buried in a kitchen drawer, he’s able to place the book on the dining table and hide behind the wall before his father notices.
The drawer closes with a slam, followed by a perplexed grunt from Seggin as he seemingly locates the journal. “That wasn’t—Hylia, help me. I’m losing my mind.”
The minute he’s gone, Bazz allows himself to take a deep breath.
“That was close,” Rivan exhales with relief. “I can’t believe he didn’t look in here.”
“He thought it was in the bookcase,” Bazz reasons. Being as stubborn as he is, Seggin would never consider it could be anywhere else. “Let’s look quickly so we can get the hell out of here.”
After some searching, Bazz finds the shock arrow in a hidden compartment underneath the desk. The arrowhead shimmers when he spins the smooth shaft between his fingers, and he finds himself briefly astonished.
Rivan, however, isn’t as taken aback by the deadly weapon in Bazz’s hands.
“He keeps a picture of you on his desk,” Rivan says, and holds up a frame containing the portrait in question. “You must’ve been—what, twenty years old here? You’re even missing a few teeth.”
Bazz’s lips curve in a wry smile. “I can’t believe you’re giving me the weepy father treatment. How does Dunma deal with it?”
“Well, it’s kind of sweet, isn’t it?”
“I don’t know,” Bazz dismisses. “It was probably just left by my mother.”
Rivan clearly isn’t convinced, but he doesn’t push the topic further.
After burying the shock arrow in the rich dirt of Upland Zorana, they get that pint Rivan had mentioned earlier.
The fire from the cooking pot in the tavern is blazing, and while ordinarily the heat would be uncomfortable, Bazz is at least pleased to be free of that constant chill. So, they choose to sit by the counter rather than their usual table at the back.
“So,” Rivan begins, “what are you going to do when Seggin realizes you were the one who stole his shock arrow?”
“How do you know he’ll figure it out?” Bazz challenges.
“Oh, come on, Bazz.”
And well, Bazz is too tired to argue. “I’m not going to do anything because I plan to be wasted by then.”
“That’s not funny,” Rivan disapproves, the lightness gone from his voice. “What’s going on with you?”
“Nothing’s going on. I’m fine.”
Rivan leans back in his chair to examine Bazz properly, his hand held over the mouth of his glass like he has no intentions of drinking from it now. “You know, if Seggin is stubborn then you’ve got a head made of stone.”
“Oh, thanks,” Bazz says flatly.
“I’m just saying,” Rivan defends. He glances around the tavern before leaning in to speak quietly. “Did something happen with—"
“No,” Bazz instantly denies. “And I’m offended you’d think I would be sulking over something like that.”
Except that’s not entirely true, and Rivan is well aware of this. It’s why he says, “But you haven’t mentioned him in weeks.”
“There’s just too much going on,” Bazz explains with a sigh. “I mean, protecting the Domain from Vah Ruta, and my father from his self-destructive tendencies. He plays a small part in it but there’s just…no time to think about any of that.”
“So, something did happen?” Rivan assumes.
Bazz is reluctant to agree but in the end he nods his head.
“Is this something we should talk about?” Rivan questions, and he thankfully takes Bazz’s displeased grunt to mean, absolutely not. “You know, I can take on some of that load. Probably not the…other stuff, but I’m used to dealing with the council.”
“You don’t need to do that.”
“I want to do it, and anyway, I wasn’t asking for permission.”
Bazz doesn’t fight it, but he doesn’t think he can anyway. They move on to easier topics after that, and he finds himself smiling into his drink when Rivan recounts Dunma’s run-in with some Lizalfos a couple days ago.
True to his word, Rivan helps.
He takes Bazz’s place on the mission to clear out those Moblins that lurk near the Domain, and Bazz tries to pretend it doesn’t bother him as he stands guard beside Dunma on the bridge. But he could have assigned someone else to this spot while he caught up on his overwhelming stack of paperwork. He just doesn’t have as good a view of the hills from inside his office.
“My father was very excited to take this job,” Dunma informs at one point. She glances at the children playing around Princess Mipha’s statue before saying, “But I don’t think anything is as exciting as what Prince Sidon has been up to. Can you imagine fighting that Divine Beast? I could only dream of such a thing.”
“You’ll get your fair share of thrilling adventures one day, Dunma,” he promises with an amused smile, and the younger Zora chuckles in response.
Though certainly exciting, Bazz also thinks this duty Sidon has taken on is properly suicidal. He’s not immune to electricity after all, and there’s no doubt what would happen to him if that Hylian accidentally dropped a shock arrow into the river.
But those kinds of thoughts will send Bazz to places he doesn’t want to go. Sidon will be fine, he’s sure. The prince is very capable, even if a bit overeager at times.
Seggin appears in the plaza, and while Bazz is grateful for the distraction, he has no interest in speaking to his father at this moment.
Maybe he should’ve just stayed in his office.
“Bazz,” Seggin calls as he nears the bridge, “how strange it is to find you out here.” He stands near enough to the captain that Dunma thankfully cannot overhear their conversation where she stands on the other end. “Are there not better ways for you to make use of your time?”
“Most of the guards are on an expedition, father. I didn’t think it would be wise to leave any posts unguarded during this time.”
Seggin hums with displeasure, but Bazz knows there isn’t anything he could’ve said which would have satisfied him.
“It has been quite a strange morning,” Seggin moves on. “It seems something precious to me has been misplaced, and I don’t think I would be incorrect in assuming you played some part in its disappearance.”
“I don’t know anything about that,” Bazz deflects.
Seggin steps forward with a furious expression. “Don’t play dumb with me, Bazz. I know everything that takes place around here.”
“Please, father I’m working,” he intercepts. “Do we need to have this conversation now?”
Seggin seems a bit sheepish at that reminder and he briefly looks over his shoulder at Dunma, who grants him a polite nod. “Fine, but I expect to see the arrow returned by nightfall,” he orders, and then he’s gone. Back to the plaza, where he came from.
Bazz has no intention of giving it back to him, and once his duties are completed for the day he deems it best to make himself scarce.
Only, he’s stopped by the sight of the prince standing before Princess Mipha’s memorial. Sidon’s hands are clasped behind his back, fingers fiddling with the bracelet on his wrist in a clear display of anxiousness.
Bazz should keep walking. He certainly should not go over there and speak to Sidon because he’s trying to stick to this whole ‘avoiding each other’ thing, and that would essentially undo all his progress.
And yet, his feet begin to move, pushing him closer and closer to the prince.
Through the corner of his eye Bazz sees Sidon look at him, seemingly transfixed for a moment before he resumes his examination of the princess.
“I haven’t seen you in weeks,” Sidon bravely breaks the silence.
“I know,” Bazz says. They keep their bodies angled towards Mipha’s statue so no onlookers will get suspicious about their meeting. But Bazz doesn’t know why he’s so worried really. The moon is rising; most of the Zora have already retreated into their homes. “I heard about your plan to tame Vah Ruta.”
“Oh,” Sidon breathes out, sounding pleased. He’s always been bad at hiding his emotions. “What do you think?”
“I didn’t think any Hylian would actually come here, but it seems it worked.”
“Yes, he’s quite a fascinating person. Though I do wonder if perhaps I just haven’t met enough Hylians.”
“Is it really Link, then? The Hylian Champion from a hundred years ago?” Bazz helplessly wonders.
“Yes, he’s been asleep all this time apparently. Did you know him?”
“When I was a child,” Bazz replies. He was young enough that he shouldn’t remember much of Link, but Bazz looked up to him, and for that reason alone he can never really forget him.
“I’m not sure he’ll remember that,” Sidon says. “It seems he has lost most of his memories.”
Bazz inhales sharply, disappointment now coursing through him. “How could that happen?”
“I don’t completely understand it myself,” Sidon expresses. And then rather unexpectedly he asks, “Did you know Mipha was in love with him?”
And no, Bazz definitely did not. “They spent a lot of time together,” he reasons. “But I don’t think I knew what that meant then.” Seggin never remarried after Bazz’s mother died when he was young, so his understanding of love and relationships hadn’t solidified until he was old enough to experience it himself.
“The armor was complete, just stored away in one of her trunks,” Sidon informs. “Why did she not gift it to him? I cannot make sense of it.”
“Maybe she decided against it in the end.”
“But I believe if there’s any time to declare one’s love, it would be at the end of the world.”
The truth is that there are few people who possess the hopefulness that Sidon does. Mipha had been more levelheaded, perhaps even a little pessimistic, and maybe that’s why she eventually decided against the proposal.
“Did you give him the armor?” Bazz asks.
“Father did, so he could travel easier through Vah Ruta.”
“Well, that’s probably not how the princess expected her confession to go,” Bazz jokes dryly, and he’s relieved when Sidon huffs out a quiet laugh.
“Something is troubling me, however,” Sidon confesses, and Bazz tilts his head just enough to see his profile in better clarity. “I’m not entirely certain I haven’t sent Link to his death. He is incredible to be sure but—do you think he will be okay, Bazz?”
Bazz’s gaze drifts to the water at their feet, before travelling over the gentle curves of Princess Mipha’s face. She had placed her trust in Link, and clearly had so much affection for him, and this could not have been without reason.
So, carefully, he replies, “Link is no ordinary Hylian. I think it will take a lot to bring him down. You shouldn’t worry.”
“Yes,” Sidon exhales heavily. “I know you’re right.”
It’s a small pleasure to hear that from Sidon, but the real confirmation will be when Link walks out of that Divine Beast unscathed. Sidon doesn’t point this out, however, so Bazz says nothing about it either.
Silence settles between them, but it’s more contemplative than awkward. Technically Bazz has no reason to stay, except maybe that he can’t bring himself to leave.
“I’ve been meaning to speak to you about what took place the night of my birthday,” Sidon mentions, and suddenly Bazz feels an overwhelming urge to escape.
But before Sidon can continue, Laflat approaches them. “Sorry to intrude, gentlemen.”
“Is there something you require, Laflat?” Sidon asks.
She nods in confirmation. “King Dorephan is requesting your presence in the throne room, my prince.”
“Now?” Sidon asks, sounding a bit disgruntled.
“Yes, His Majesty was quite adamant.”
“Alright, thank you, Laflat. Captain Bazz—” He bobs his head in a goodbye that Bazz reciprocates. And Bazz doesn’t miss the way Sidon’s eyes linger on him as he leaves.
“Bazz,” Laflat greets once the prince is gone, and it’s clear she’s not pleased with him. It’s even more obvious when she whacks him in the arm with her clipboard. “Why did you go snooping through my files?!”
“Your what?” he splutters, rubbing at the sore spot on his bicep. Laflat’s a lot more vicious than she looks.
“Oh, don’t bother denying it. I have a very strict organization system and when I was looking through my folders today, I noticed that some things were out of place. Specifically, the notes I’d written on Prince Sidon’s meeting with the council.”
Uh oh. “Well, okay look—”
“So, you admit it!” she snaps. “Unbelievable.”
“You wouldn’t talk to me so I had to get my information somehow,” Bazz defends.
“If the council wanted you to know about Prince Sidon’s plan then they would have told you themselves. But alas, they did not.”
Bazz huffs. “Okay, but you’ve met my father. You know what he’s like.”
“Stop making excuses,” Laflat scolds, and it reminds Bazz of when Jiahto would lecture him for chatting excessively during lessons. “I better not catch you looking through my stuff ever again.”
“Never,” Bazz promises, hands raised in surrender.
A self-satisfied smile replaces the scowl on Laflat’s face, before she leaves Bazz there beside the statue.
Sleep doesn’t come easily to Bazz that night. He can’t find a comfortable position to rest in, and the water in his pool is so cold it chills him to the bone. He has a sofa, but for some reason all the pillows are terribly lumpy and hurt his neck after a while.
He suspects his insomnia has less to do with uncomfortable furniture and more to do with a certain prince he can’t stop thinking about, but he is nothing if not stubborn. So, he gets up to make himself a cup of coffee instead of confronting the actual problem.
It’s a bit counterintuitive seeing as how the caffeine will keep him up, but he only gets through half of it anyway because of the unbearably sour taste. He misses his Hylian-made coffee, but thanks to good ol’ Ruta they don’t have access to such luxuries anymore.
Eventually he resigns to going for a walk.
The plaza is quiet except for the pattering of rain against stone that never ends. When Bazz was a teenager, he was rather fond of the rain because it would mask the sound of his footsteps as he snuck out of his room in the middle of the night. It’s much like he’s doing now, except there won’t be anyone to reprimand him when he gets back.
He finds Tula sitting near the Goddess statue with a book in her hands, and finding it strange that anyone besides the guards would be out and about now, Bazz decides to approach her. Perhaps she is just as sleep deprived as he is.
“You haven’t seen anyone come through here in the past hour, have you?” he asks her.
“Not really. Why do you ask?”
“Just curious,” he lies. “I assumed you would’ve noticed, being out here and all. Actually, what are you doing out here?”
“Secret club meet—” but she stops herself to laugh nervously. “It’s just a society meeting.”
For whatever reason Bazz doesn’t buy that. “What society?”
“Er—the Zora history society,” she stammers. “I…love old history?”
“Sure,” Bazz snorts. “Well, as you were.”
He bids Tula goodnight before continuing on, but right before Bazz goes to his secret spot behind the throne room he sees Tona rush over to meet Tula, and just manages to hear them gushing about Prince Sidon’s dreamy eyes.
After that, his thoughts surrounding the prince return at full force, but at least he’s able to sort through them in the tranquility of the private balcony. What was Sidon going to say before Laflat appeared? Bazz didn’t want to discuss it earlier but maybe if he had then he’d be able to quiet his mind.
There’s always the possibility Sidon wasn’t going to say anything about them at all. He had also been upset with his father on the night of his birthday, specifically over Dorephan’s insistence that he be married soon to a respectable Zora of the king’s choosing. It could have had nothing to do with Bazz.
And still, he starts to wonder what Sidon did with the book he’d gifted him—
“An encyclopedia?” Sidon asked as he examined the text in his hand.
“Yes, on Gerudo culture,” Bazz explained. “There was a Hylian woman selling it at the market, and I thought you might like to read it.”
It wasn’t an elaborate gift, certainly far removed from the jewels and prized artifacts Sidon received, but the prince had smiled like it was the only thing he’d wanted all along, and that pleased Bazz. Now he’s not certain Sidon even kept it.
It’s unclear how much time he spends at the balcony, but the sky is streaked with oranges and reds when he decides to head back. Upon entering the Guard’s Chambers he comes across Gaddison, whose face is hidden by shadows as she sharpens her spear.
“Weird time to be getting home, Bazz,” she remarks, not needing to lift her head to know who has just walked into the room.
“Right, yeah. Just had some things to do.”
There’s the hint of a smirk on her lips when she looks up at him. “Is that the explanation you’re going with?”
“Yes,” Bazz says curtly. But before he can move in the direction of his room, Gaddison stops him.
“Seggin came by earlier,” she says, causing Bazz to frown.
“This late into the night?”
“Yeah, he left a message for you. Uh—he was angry, called you a disappointment a few times and then I don’t remember the rest.”
“Good,” Bazz comments with a snort. There’s no doubt his father was looking to express his frustration with him directly, and the less he knows of that, the better.
As if the constant rain wasn’t enough, Vah Ruta begins to make her presence known with terrifying roars that cause the Domain to tremble violently.
They have breakfast by the window that morning, just so they can keep an eye on the beast.
“Laflat yelled at me last night,” Bazz says with a grimace. Even with a generous helping of honey his coffee isn’t any better. “She also slapped me. So, that was interesting.”
Gaddison snorts. “Deserved, I’m sure.”
To Bazz’s right Torfeau drinks from a large mug of steaming tea, which makes him wish he had made one for himself. “Did you deserve it, Bazz?”
“Oh, of course he didn’t deserve it,” Rivan denies playfully as he comes back into the kitchen. He pulls Bazz into an affectionate headlock so he can press a very wet kiss to his crest. “He’s completely innocent!”
Bazz shoves off a laughing Rivan and wipes spit off his head with a smile. “Look, I know you’re hopelessly in love with me,” he teases as Rivan goes to the cooking pot, “but keep the affection to a minimum.”
“Yes, please,” Gaddison snarks as she brings her cup of coffee to her lips. Even she scowls at the taste.
“I just can’t help myself,” Rivan quips, earning him a light elbow to the ribs from Tottika, who helps him cook nearly a dozen eggs.
“Okay, clearly you’re leaving something out,” Torfeau accuses. “Laflat wouldn’t have done that without a reason so you must’ve pissed her off somehow.”
Bazz sighs as he crosses his arms over his chest. “Well, I maybe snuck into her office and rummaged through her files, but I had a good reason.”
Tottika gasps theatrically. “Bazz, you heathen. I think I’m on Laflat’s side now.”
“Oh hush, Tottika. You’re not part of this conversation,” Torfeau retorts. “Now, what was the good reason?”
“Prince Sidon had a meeting with the council about a week ago and no one would tell me what they were talking about.” Granted, Bazz hadn’t actually approached any of the Elders, but he didn’t see the point. He already knew they would dismiss him. “So, I went looking for Laflat’s notes—and they’re incredibly detailed, by the way—but I didn’t leave her office as much of a mess as she claims.”
“I’ll have to see it to believe it,” Rivan quips.
“Oh, not you too,” Bazz deadpans.
“Laflat’s meticulous, not unreasonable,” Gaddison voices. “You on the other hand…” Tottika nearly collapses from the boisterousness of his laughter, and Bazz just observes him with an unimpressed, but slightly amused look.
“Yeah no offense, Bazz but Laflat kinda has a point here,” Torfeau adds.
“Okay, is anyone on my side?” Bazz questions with disbelief.
Torfeau chuckles as she rises from her chair, but she pats Bazz’s hand comfortingly before going to the window to check on Vah Ruta.
“Wait, I’m confused,” Tottika claims once he’s recovered. He deposits an obscene amount of salt into the yolks and Rivan squawks before rushing to find some milk. “Why didn’t you just ask the prince what they discussed? You’re friends, I’m sure he would’ve told you.”
Rivan coughs pointedly when he returns, causing Torfeau to halt her examination of the Divine Beast. “You okay, Rivan?” she asks through a laugh.
Bazz…he focuses on his coffee instead. Otherwise, he might pick up on the knowing look that Rivan and Gaddison exchange.
“I’m just fine,” Rivan reassures. “Hey, how do we feel about seaweed and eggs?”
Rivan doesn’t get an answer because Vah Ruta chooses that moment to cry out. For some reason it feels different this time—louder certainly, maybe even more powerful. Bazz’s coffee shakes on the table and he grabs it before it spills over onto the floor.
“Oh Hylia,” Torfeau swears under her breath, clearly transfixed by whatever is taking place beyond the river.
Bazz rushes to the window, as do Gaddison, Tottika and Rivan, and they’re met with the sight of Vah Ruta climbing over the hills and rocky plains surrounding Zora’s Domain, before finally landing along the Zodobon Highlands.
That glaring, red glow has vanished from her veins, replaced now by a peaceful blue. She looks just as she did before, like when Bazz was a child and would watch the five Champions board the structure at night from his window.
“He did it,” Rivan exhales with astonishment. “Link…he actually did it.”
It feels too good to be true, almost. Could they really be saved?
The truth is revealed when the clouds finally dissipate, leaving behind the bluest sky Bazz thinks he has ever seen. Or maybe it’s just been so long.
Everyone gathers in the throne room to watch King Dorephan congratulate Link on his impressive feat. Rivan had been right after all; the Hylian Champion hasn’t aged one bit since they’d last seen him a century ago.
Midway through Muzu’s speech, Seggin appears at Bazz’s side with his arms folded tightly over his chest. Bazz braces himself for the verbal lashing that is sure to come, but then Seggin surprises him.
“Well, I suppose allowing Link to assist us wasn’t so senseless.”
Bazz is so startled by this rare display of acceptance that he briefly gapes at his father before refocusing on Muzu.
“At the very least, now we know Princess Mipha did not waste her precious time and attention on an incompetent little Hylian,” Seggin adds. “Still, I would not consider him to be worthy of her affection.”
“You can’t control who you love,” Bazz reminds in a low voice, and he scowls at the cheesiness of his own statement.
“Regardless,” Seggin carries on, “I know without a doubt that he would not prevail were he to be up against my prowess.”
“Really, father,” Bazz deadpans.
Seggin sniffles. “Don’t get smart with me. And I expect to see you for breakfast tomorrow morning.” Just when Bazz opens his mouth to decline, Seggin says, “I don’t wish to hear your usual ridiculous excuses. You will come to breakfast and you will enjoy it.”
There’s applause amongst the crowd of Zora, which completely drowns out any attempt Bazz makes to oppose Seggin’s demands. He’s at least thankful that his father doesn’t wring him dry for stealing the shock arrow. It’s the little things, after all.
King Dorephan presents Link with the Lightscale Trident, an exact replica of the weapon Champion Mipha wielded. It’s much taller than him and perhaps even heavier, but that was also the case for Mipha and no Zora has yet surpassed her level of expertise in battle.
With his full attention now placed on the throne, Bazz finally notices the figure standing beside the king. He and Sidon lock eyes immediately, and Bazz can’t tell if he’s just that obvious, or if Sidon had been able to sense him somehow. No one seems to notice their staring, but then Bazz isn’t really paying attention to anyone other than the prince.
He snaps back into reality when the Zora around him erupt with shouts and cheers of praise. Bazz only offers applause, because he doesn’t trust his voice not to waver now.
The Zora don’t tend toward minimalism so preparations begin right after the ceremony for what will be an extravagant celebration of Link’s success.
Bazz doesn’t see Sidon after the ceremony nor is he able to locate the Hylian Champion. Perhaps they went somewhere together without notifying anyone, and Bazz detests how much that bothers him.
But he’s patrolling near Toto Lake when he spots a familiar head of blonde hair through the trees.
“Link?”
When Link turns around to see who has called, the first thing Bazz thinks is that he looks incredibly exhausted. If he’s here on his own then maybe he wanted to get away from the chaos of the Domain as well.
“Hi,” Link greets, but the crinkle between his eyebrows confirms Bazz’s suspicions.
“It’s okay if you don’t recognize me,” Bazz reassures as he fiddles with the spear in his grip. “My name is Bazz, we—”
“Sidon mentioned you.”
Bazz blinks at the interruption. “He did?”
“Yeah,” Link confirms. “Said you’re the captain of the guard, and a good fighter.”
“I’d have said a great fighter, but that works too,” Bazz jokes. That makes Link laugh, though it seems slightly hesitant.
“You were going to say something,” he prompts.
Bazz nods. “Yeah, I just can’t believe you’re here. It’s…well, we used to play together when we were kids. Or it was more like we sparred with each other, but I think you might be the reason I became captain.”
“I don’t…remember,” Link admits, and he looks incredibly guilty.
“You don’t have to. I’m sure you’re tired of everyone telling you about things you have no knowledge of.”
Bazz goes to sit near him, putting his own legs in the water to match Link.
“Did you know Mipha?” Link asks.
“Kind of,” Bazz replies. “In a way it’s like the princess never left.”
“I think I’m supposed to be in love with her.”
It’s so abrupt that Bazz doesn’t manage to repress his laughter. “That’s what you think?”
“She gave me that armor, and everyone looks at me expecting…something.”
“But you don’t feel that way, do you?.”
“Right now, I don’t think so.” A leaf falls onto the surface of the lake and Link kicks it away with his foot. “Maybe I did at some point. But what if I’m too different now?”
“So, what?” Bazz says with a shrug. “There’s nothing you can do about it, and to hell with anyone who holds it against you.”
Slowly, a smirk breaks the somber expression on Link’s face. “Interesting approach.”
“Yeah well, I’ve had to put up with years of criticism from an overbearing father,” Bazz chuckles. “I can’t fully get what you’re going through, I don’t think I ever will. But I can try to understand.”
“Thanks,” Link says genuinely. “I think—well, I don’t have a lot of friends.”
“But we could be friends.”
“Yeah. I’d like that.”
The silence lasts for just a moment, because Bazz can’t stop himself from asking, “Where are you going after this?”
“Rito Village,” Link responds.
“That’s a long journey.”
“Yeah, but I kind of like that.” Bazz raises a brow bone at him, and Link laughs. “It’s just…people are a lot.”
Bazz nods. “No doubt about it.”
“And I still don’t feel I belong anywhere,” Link expresses. “I don’t remember enough.”
“So why do all this, then?” Bazz wonders.
“For Hyrule.” And it’s so quick and so devoid of emotion that it feels more like a remnant of Link’s time as a knight than the genuine truth. But then— “For…someone I’m starting to remember a little.”
The way he says it, with fondness in his voice and distance to his gaze, makes it clear just who this someone is. Not their identity exactly, but what they mean to Link.
And that makes Bazz feel like a complete idiot. Calamity Ganon himself may stand between Link and this person, and here Bazz is—safe in the Domain where the one person he’s ever truly cared about in that way is within reach. And he isn’t doing a thing about it.
Who is he to preach about disregarding other people’s opinions when he’s allowed that very thing to dictate his choices?
But he won’t dwell on that now, not when he finally has the opportunity to speak with his long-lost friend.
“Hey, isn’t Rito Village freezing this time of year?”
And Link shudders in response.
When Bazz returns to the Domain it’s with a bundle of lavender flowers that he plucked from a bush along the way. He presents it to Laflat, who he finds standing near Princess Mipha’s statue.
“A peace offering,” Bazz says simply. The breeze blows and carries some of the pollen with it, filling the air with that sweet, perfumy scent.
“Bazz, this does not exactly make up for violation of personal property,” Laflat says matter-of-factly. “Unless…are you just trying to bribe me?”
Bazz shakes his head vigorously. “Definitely not. I just happen to know that lavender makes good ink.”
Laflat takes the flowers, a timid smile at her lips. “Well, then I declare we are at peace.”
After, Bazz walks through the plaza with the intention of going to his office, though he does so rather slowly to put off the inevitable and dreadful task of completing paperwork.
The children now run wildly under the clear sunshine, playing games with each other and stopping every now and then to gape at Vah Ruta who sits on her perch miles and miles away. Bazz also finds himself pausing to admire the Divine Beast, and it’s then that he finally spots the prince.
Sidon looks up from where he’s speaking to Muzu on the bridge, and his eyes find Bazz’s instantly. It’s akin to that moment in the throne room, but still different; there’s intent behind it now, maybe even words that Bazz could never bring himself to say aloud.
So, when Sidon raises his hand, fingers stretched out fully, Bazz answers with a simple nod.
It’s near impossible but he manages to wait five minutes before going to his secluded spot, where he finds the prince already waiting by the balcony. Upon noticing his approach, Sidon’s lips part as if he’s about to say something, but Bazz doesn’t let him. He closes the distance between them to wrap his arms around the prince’s shoulders.
Sidon is clearly taken aback by this action, his body completely frozen until his arms eventually come up to loop around Bazz’s back.
“I’m sorry,” Bazz breathes into his neck.
“You have nothing to be sorry for, Bazz,” Sidon assures. He drops his head onto Bazz’s shoulder, taking slow, deep breaths that Bazz can hear clearly from this close.
He holds Sidon a little tighter, and for once, doesn’t worry about anyone seeing.
“I can’t believe you woke me up at five in the morning and dragged me all the way out here.”
“Oh come on, Bazz. The weather is impeccable today. How can you be so grumpy?”
Bazz grunts in response, putting in extra effort to ensure it sounds as disgruntled as he feels.
“Only a little more, I promise,” Sidon says as he practically drags the captain along the dock beside East Reservoir Lake.
They finally come to the little gazebo in the center, and Bazz glances between the display and Sidon’s beaming face before saying, “A picnic?”
“Correct,” Sidon praises ecstatically. “See, I’ve been reading that encyclopedia you got me and there’s an entire section on romantic customs. I’ve come to the conclusion that Hylian and Zora men aren’t all that different, which is perfect, because I am intent on wooing you.”
That effectively snaps Bazz out of his stupor, and he stares at Sidon with a smile that’s both contented and incredulous. “You don’t need to woo me, I’m already brainwashed.”
“Wow, then I’m much farther along than I thought,” Sidon jokes, causing Bazz to snort. He pulls Bazz towards the small picnic blanket he’s laid onto the floor, which is covered in plates and glasses filled with a variety of things for them to snack on.
There’s a kettle on the cooking pot as well, which steeps something that smells an awful lot like coffee. And the good Hylian kind, not the poor excuse for coffee that Bazz had been subjected to during Vah Ruta’s destruction.
“So, here’s the burning question,” Bazz says as they eat. “What are you going to do when your father inevitably finds some duke or duchess for you to marry?”
Sidon, being so graceful and dignified, chews and swallows his cheese before replying. “I’ve decided I’m going to put my foot down. I won’t let my father decide how I should live my life.”
“Oh, really now?” Bazz smirks delightedly.
“Absolutely,” Sidon promises. “In fact, you’ve actually had a bit of an influence on me.”
“I have?”
“Mhm. You’ve taught me to fight for the things you really want, to be incredibly stubborn even when everyone and everything is against you.” He smiles to himself and then picks up a perfectly pink strawberry, “Some fruit, Bazz?”
“Wait, hold on,” Bazz intercepts, feeling affronted. “What did you say before? About me being stubborn?”
“Did I say that?” Sidon plays dumb. “I truly don’t recall. But you should try the strawberry, Bazz. I think you’ll like it.”
Bazz breathes out a pained sigh, but it’s mostly for show. “Fine. But I’m not letting you feed it to me.”
“Oh, that’s perfectly fine. That doesn’t come until step eleven.”
“Step eleven?”
“In the book you gifted me.”
This time, Bazz’s doleful sigh is genuine. “I should’ve never bought you that book.”
“Oh no, it’s one of the best gifts I’ve ever been given,” Sidon responds. And it’s so sweet and so earnest that Bazz can’t stop himself from smiling, as well as leaning in to press his lips to Sidon’s.
There’s the taste of something salty in the kiss, as well as the clear essence of sweetness, and it doesn’t disappear even after they separate. Sidon purses his lips like he can taste it too, and Bazz forces himself to take a soothing breath before he does something to demean them both.
“So,” he says through a laugh, “what comes before step eleven?”