Bang! Bang! Bang!

My blue eyes shoot open as I abruptly jolt upwards.

Frazzled and confused at the sudden noise, I frantically scan my surroundings to look for the noise around me while instinctively reaching out to my right side, trying to grasp for the familiar item that was always by my side.

Chest heaving, my clarity slowly starts coming through as the moments pass. My memory clicks and my breathing slows as I take a deep breath to reassure myself as my frantic confusion quickly morphs into deep irritation. I recognize the familiar deep hollow sounds as the bangs continue—Someone is knocking on my door.

I make my way over with an irritated sigh, telling myself that whoever is on the other side of my door and disturbing my peace, is going to feel my wrath. Strangled? Punched? There are many ways I can accomplish this without my sword.

My hand grapples the door handle as I twist, my irritation manifesting as I swing the door open a little too hard and fast, finding myself come face to face with, frankly, a complete stranger.

Alarmed, wild green eyes meet my own as I note the person before me, his curled hand frozen mid-air, catching him and stopping him from his next relentless attack on my door.

Its a boy, probably no more older than seventeen. Shaggy short blond hair pokes out underneath his armored head, along with somewhat light armor adorning the rest of his body. With a quick glance, I easily spot the Royal Family crest. He's a royal knight.

"Oh, there you be, Hero," he speaks out as his face calms to a pleasant look. Happy he scared me half to death.

I silently continue to analyze him with barely restrained anger. His voice carries an abundance of glee that I'm in no mood for. It's rubbing me the wrong way. He seems completely oblivious to how dangerously close I am to curling my own fist and throwing it at his face. Blissfully unaware of how much I treasure my sleep uninterrupted.

Although, I'm sure this is of not his own choosing, I think to myself as the stupidly cheerily knight before me starts to talk and ramble on about something I couldn't care less about, probably mistaking my silence as an indication to continue with his agenda. My anger rises even more as I declare to myself that I hate him. He talks for much too long.

Instead of listening to this oh so honorable knight's words, I daydream of the hundreds of ways I can solve this predicament I found myself in, thinking that was much more entertaining than what he had to say to me.

"So anyways, Mr. Hero, if you cou- umm, are you listening, Sir?"

My long, pointed ears twitched and pricked upwards as my train of thought was broken, sensing that he must've noticed I wasn't listening. He probably thought I was consumed by sleep. Nope. I just don't care.

I decide to spare him the embarrassment of getting punched by the Hero... or would that be an honor? I'll have to test it out one day to find out.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah," I acknowledge, waving off the knight nonchalantly, hoping he'll take the hint. "Go see the Queen. Yes, very important matters. Thank you." I finish, taking a step back in my house and slamming the door in his face as I caught a final glance of him, features sinking in deflation, most likely because I didn't answer as he expected the "Noble Hero" would.

I groaned, rubbing my temples and trying to calm the raging headache that accompanied my wonderful wake up method earlier. I then sighed, already deeply dreading the day. Knowing what's to come and seriously wishing the Queen would just send damned letters instead of making me subject to others' ramblings day after day at the ass crack of dawn.

Regardless, this is the fifth time this week that I have been summoned by the Queen, and five times too many in my opinion.

I take a quick glance over at the far wall opposite of me, glancing at a much too familiar sight.

A rustic green tunic fitted with chainmail hung on the wall, along with a purple-hilted sword, placed delicately against the wall under it, sending me into a flurry of memories and emotions of a year past that now feels like a lifetime ago.

I saved the continent of Hyrule from being plunged into complete twilight, essentially saving two worlds in the process, carrying these two items on my back. It was a hard, arduous journey but I'm glad it's over.

I am that esteemed Hero, and some would say that its a great honor, but frankly, I look at these two items in disgust. I never wanted it. I was blackmailed and forced into this role. I don't feel honorable. I feel like a fraud. It was never of my own choosing, and yet, I didn't have a choice.

I grumpily remove my own clothing and take the green garnet off the wall, slipping my arms through the sleeves, already hating the way it feels against my skin.

I'm not the Hero everyone wants me to play. I never wanted this life, this title. I feel the deep, familiar bitterness rising in me.

I hate the Queen. I hate this kingdom. I hate the Goddesses above.

I rather just burn these clothes and discard this sword. Shed myself of this reputation. I rather be a nobody. But I know the Queen wouldn't want it any other way. Seeing their precious hero dressed in clothes not of his own choosing, being called a title he hates, stuck in a destiny that was forced upon himself.

I slide the final piece of the "Hero" image onto my back, the cool metal fitting snugly against my back.

Fully dressed, I step out of my much-too-luxurious house, shielding my eyes from the blinding sun. Before me, kids of all ages are seen running, screaming and playing. People standing around talking, conversing with fellow neighbors or merchants. Castle Town was nothing short of alive and bustling.

I moved into Castle Town shortly after my battles were over, defeating Ganondorf. I at first returned back to my simple quiet life in Ordon, enjoying the peace, until one day tracked down and approached by a fellow royal guard, urged by the Queen that Hyrule's precious Hero must live closer the center of Hyrule, to better serve. Once again, having no choice, despite my attempts of protest.

More like, better to serve as her personal lapdog.

I make my first steps to my destination, the big, towering castle in front of my house not hard to miss at all. Standing over everyone that is beneath little miss Queens' feet.

Making my path, I start to see heads turning towards me, the familiar feeling of dread and wanting to retreat inside myself seizes me very strong. I want to run back to my house.

I usually get way too much attention for my own liking.

Without fail, each time I step outside into the bustling city, I always have fellow citizens or soldiers waving to me, or rushing up for an autograph, or someones child will run up to me an want me to play with them. Sometimes they knock on my door for some insignificant thing that isn't worth my time. Despite my own wishes, for almost a year now, I always have to grin and play along with this charade, do the best impression of the "Hero" that I can muster, to keep the image alive for them all, even though its more for them than me. It just reminds me how much of a fraud I am. How much I hate this "destiny" of mine.

I catch a fellow mother of two glancing my way, raising her arm up and waving to me from the distance, a broad smile stretches across her face.

Despite her warm, happy disposition, Anger rises inside me. I didn't react. I don't care.

I'm bitter. I know I am, but this is the real me. This is your precious Hero. I've had enough of playing someone that I'm not.

I finally approach the grand steps that lead up into the main chamber of the castle, taking them up to the giant doors that loom over me, making me feel small. The feelings of awe and intimidation never seem to cease, no matter how many times I stand before them.

The feelings of dread intensify, placing a gloved hand on the door. I don't know whats worse. Being surrounded and paraded by thousands around me as something that I'm not, or standing before the Queen, who tells me what my "destiny" is and forcing my every action..

My hand clenches tightly in reflexive anger and I take a deep breath, trying to center myself emotionally. This anger is going to do nothing for me but get in the way. I must play the part of the cool and collected and agreeable Hero that everyone adores.

After a moment, I push forward the heavy stone doors.


A/N: Hey! Thanks for reading!

This is the start of a new Legend of Zelda fanfiction I'm working on. As a preface, its after the events of Twilight Princess. But its not the same Hero of Twilight that you thought you knew.

It's a bit of tweak of Link's character, where Link never actually wanted the hero role and instead of accepting it, he becomes bitter and detests hailing under the princess, yearning for a different life. He is trapped between what others expect from him and what his actual desires for his own life are, creating turmoil.

Link is going to forge himself a new destiny of his own making, however it takes.

Sidenote: This is also going to be a VERY dark story with some explicit content in coming chapters, just as a heads up.

Constructive criticism is highly encouraged and appreciated!