Truth be told, Link never had and never would come across an item as strange as this again. Hidden in the depths of a wayward forest in an abandoned cave, so tucked away Link had almost missed it, there was a chest.
In the chest, he found a mask.
When he had put it on, his bones breaking and contorting under his skin, he found himself like and unlike the Hylian he had just been.
Instead of hair he found smooth scales. Instead of a nose he found a slope that led up and into his newly extended forehead. It was when he looked at his hands that panic settled in. Green webbing lay between his fingers, his palms snow white, and the back of his hands a deep gold, like you might see in a sunrise.
He quickly hooked his fingers under is jawline and pulled, the mask giving way easily. As it left his face, he felt that same pain as his bones and muscles shifted beneath his skin once again.
Again, as soon as it had come, it was gone, and he was looking down at his hands, returned to their original shape.
The mask had left the labyrinth with him, no thought in his mind as to what it might be useful for.
It's weeks after his fight with Calamity Ganon that his mind thinks back to it, as he leaves Zora's Domain. The Prince, for as cheerful and kind and good and great that he was, continued to use his title with him. It was always, 'Hero this' and 'Hero that'. Though he knew the Prince would never purposely wound him, that title on his lips had turned into a dagger.
He was more than just a hero. He was a flesh and blood man who wanted so much more than just to be a hero to the Zora Prince.
His intention was never malicious in nature. It was a certain curiosity that need satiated, to be someone other than the Hero, if only for a little while.
He knew the perfect opportunity when he saw it, in a delicately decorated letter, reminding him of the celebratory ball being held in Zora's Domain in five days' time. To celebrate the end of Calamity Ganon and the beginning of a new Hyrule.
As Link, he regretfully declined.
As a Zora, he was giddy to attend.
The night could not have gone better, truly it couldn't. He blended in, for once in his remembered past, hundreds of eyes did not bear into him when he entered a room. It was nice, to be able to meander in a crowd and not have person after person come up and formally introduce themselves. The last person he would have expected to notice him, however, did.
"I don't know if we've been introduced yet. Might I ask for your name?"
Prince Sidon, for his size and overall presence, had a way of sneaking up on people.
"O-oh, um, no I don't believe we have! My name is Lin-" He stops himself before he finishes, clamming up.
"I apologize, what was that again?"
"Len. My name is Len."
The rest of his evening is an exciting blur of dances and laughter, made all the better by the free-flowing wine and spirits native to the Domain.
It's later, much later in the evening, that he steals the Prince away from the other drunken guests.
Link revels in the way his slips through the water, like hands through silk. He marvels at how quickly he can swim through the water, just as if he were a bird to the air. He can't remember when their playful banter had turned into flirting. Nor can he remember when they stopped swimming and started holding, touching, tasting one another.
He does remember the way Sidon feels inside of him, almost too hot, almost too much to bear. That he will never forget.
He finds himself lazily floating down the river in the early morning light, Sidon's arms gently encircling his shoulders as the current gently pulls them along.
Quietly and carefully, he untangled himself of the larger Zora's arms and quickly swims to shore. When he stood, his legs wobble and he knows the night before had not been a dream. He makes sure he's well out of sight from the river before he removes the mask, his face flushed.
He truly hadn't meant for such a thing to happen, but there's no way for him to lie and say he hadn't enjoyed it either.
It was weeks later that he noticed something was amiss. He awoke in his rent bed at a stable, on his way back to Zora's Domain, with vomit pooling in his mouth. He only just makes it outside, emptying his meal from the night before onto the road.
He dry heaved several times thereafter, though there was nothing else for him to expel. As soon as the nausea had come, it was gone, leaving only a sour taste in his mouth.
"Eat something dubious for dinner last night, eh?" The stable clerk had joked with him on his way back into the tent.
He'd offered the man a shrug, unable to muster the energy he needed to answer further. He still had a half days ride to reach Zora's Domain and he seriously hoped it wasn't anything worse than a bout of bad food.
Unfortunately, he would find himself taking nearly an additional three hours to reach his destination. He'd had to stop and rest several times during the morning part of the trek, waves of nauseousness turning his face green time and time again.
As the morning wanes into afternoon, his sickness seemed to have passed, leaving only a ravenous hunger in its wake.
Upon making his way across the blue stoned bridge leading into the main hub of Zora's Domain, he is met with a familiar and jovial voice.
"Link! Hello there, my dear friend, it is wonderful to see you!"
It was the first time Link had come face to face with the Prince since the party. He does everything in his power to not let his thoughts wander back to the time in the river, how they had fit together so perfectly-
He felt his ears pool with a blood red blush and he dearly hoped the Prince didn't notice.
Sidon escorted him, as he always did during his trips here, directly to the palace. Link always enjoyed these little moments he had alone with the Prince, before then had to go their separate ways, take care of their separate responsibilities. Sidon to deal with political correspondences and thank you notes for those who attended the celebration weeks ago. Link, to speak with the King on behalf of the Princess of Hyrule, to begin paving the way to rebuilding a mutual relationship between the two races.
If Link were honest with himself, he would much rather prefer Sidon with the tedious letter writing.
Before Link even has dinner, he finds himself uncharacteristically exhausted. He figures it is just another symptom that goes hand in hand with the illness he'd felt that same morning, he brushes it off without another worry and goes to bed right after his meal.
It's the following morning, however, that he begins to feel that whatever this was couldn't be ignored.
He wakes suddenly and, just as had happened in the stable, his stomach is already flipping and shaking in his gut when he sits up. He just makes it to a bin in the room he's been put up in and, once again, his meal from the night before comes tumbling out.
Once his stomach calms enough for him to stand, he makes quick work of stripping out of his night clothes and changing into the clothes he would wear for the day. As he does so, he rubs at his stomach, the muscles underneath sore from over exertion. It's when his fingers run over a small raise in the skin, something he would have ignored if his stomach hadn't just been completely emptied, that a pit of fear forms in his chest. He presses gently, doing his best to not make himself ill again, silently hoping that what he had felt was a figment of his imagination.
Unfortunately, it was not. A small lump rested in his abdomen and even his tender pushing against it was uncomfortable.
That certainly couldn't be anything good.
He spent the rest of his morning trying, and sometimes failing, to keep the contents of his stomach where they should be. This does not go unnoticed by the Zora around him, word of his suddenly weak stomach circulating so quickly that Sidon has heard before the afternoon is over.
"Link, there you are my friend! I've been looking for you. I've heard word that you are feeling unwell?"
Link shakes his head, even as the sour taste of bile still lingers on his tongue.
"I wasn't feeling very well this morning, but I feel fine now."
He watches as Sidon scrutinizes him under an intense stare for a long moment. It's a look like one he'd been on the receiving end on the night of the party and the memory alone makes the skin on his neck flare red.
"If you say so. Just, please, if you are still feeling unwell at any time during your stay, just know that our healers would be glad to see you, day or night."
Link feels a twinge of gratitude blossom in his chest at the Prince's concern.
"Thank you. I'll keep that in mind."
And keep it in mind he did. The rest of the day passes like the first, the afternoon filled with discussions of expansions and trade routes, and his evening being spent exhausted and hungry, despite the enormous amount of food he consumed.
It's on the third morning of his stay that he has had enough of this nonsense.
Nearly like clockwork now, he is awoken to a flip in his stomach, to the need to vomit, and is unable to hold the need back. This time, he unfortunately does not make it to the bin this time, and a mess of partially digested food ends up in his lap and down his front.
A part of him wants to yell in frustration, but he knows it will do him and his situation no good.
As carefully as he could, he strips off his soiled clothes and sheets from the bed, putting them all in a pile on the floor. His frustration still lingering, he curtly pulled out another tunic and day pants, none of the more proper clothes he had brought to be presentable.
Doing everything he could to keep his stomach from upsetting itself again, he clothed himself once more and washed his face in the basin of fresh water in the room. Patting his face dry with the nearby towel, he took a moment to swig some of the unused water from the pitcher, swishing it a few times in his mouth to try to help with the hot nastiness that was his mouth.
From there, he quickly made his way to the infirmary, something he had passed by on multiple occasions. The Zora that sat at the welcome desk was quick and courteous with getting him into see someone.
"Prince Sidon stopped by last night to say that you might be paying us a visit sometime during your trip. I do so hope you feel better soon."
He nodded in thanks and was shortly after led down a winding hallway. The healer he saw was a younger male, at least young by Zora standards.
He quickly listed his symptoms of nauseousness in the morning, hunger in the afternoon and evening, and extreme tiredness during the evening.
"Well, it actually sounds like you're describing symptoms of early pregnancy, to put it bluntly."
Link balked for a second, before pointing out one important fact.
"But…I'm not female…"
The Zora healer blinked once before clapping his hands together in realization.
"Oh, that's right. I apologize, Hero, we've only seen Zora patients for quite some time, so I'm more familiar with my peoples' anatomy. I'd nearly forgotten that only Hylian females can get pregnant. Well, I suppose that's ruled out then!"
Link did his best to listen to what other possibilities his symptoms could be indicative of, truly he did.
But his thoughts kept drifting back to his night in the river, the cool water running over him like silk, the feeling of him and Sidon intimately mingling together. He'd been a Zora when that had happened.
Not a Hylian.
He left the healer with a sachet of dried herbs for a before bed tea and a pat on the shoulder.
"Please give this a try tonight and, if you still feel the same in the morning, come back to see us tomorrow, ok?"
Numbly Link had nodded, his face purposefully blank. He felt that he was overthinking this entire thing, letting himself get worked up over something impossible.
But throughout the day, time and time and time again, his thoughts turned to what the healer had said.
It's that one thought plaguing him that forces him to pull the mask from the deep pocket in his bag. He had hoped that, perhaps if given the chance, he might be able to slip away with it for an hour or two, just to swim. He never would have thought he'd be using it to visit the infirmary as a Zora.
He had to know, had to put this silly thought to rest with a finality. If that meant being getting the same checkup he'd gotten earlier, so be it.
He placed the mask to his face, steeling himself for the uncomfortable shifting of bones and muscles he had experienced before.
What he had not been prepared for, however, was the sudden burning, twisting sensation in his gut. The transformation stopped part way, forcing his joints in worse positions, making his muscles bulge under his skin. It was pure agony.
He all pulled the mask away from his face with such force and haste that he flung it across the room, listening to it clatter to the floor.
His hands shook from the residual pain coursing through his veins, twisting his gut round and round one specific spot. He clutched at his stomach, at where the pain swirled in a perfect circle around.
His mouth dries when he realizes the pain is swirling around the small bump he'd found the day before. Like a shield. Like his body was protecting something.
A wave of panic settles into his bones as the pain subsides, as a thousand and one thoughts raced through his mind.
There was one that stuck out in his mind, that thumped with a life of its own, that kept him awake through most of the night, despite his exhaustion.
How was he going to do?