Argh, I noticed 3 mistakes in the last chapter and I thought I'd proof read that too. Sorry readers!

Thanks to everyone who is reading and please do remember to review, I like to know how I can improve and what you all think of the story so far!

Oh yeah, I don't own LOZ or its characters. I think you knew that by now.

Chapter Four - The Princess and the Peasant

(Zelda's POV)

What must a girl do to get some peace around here? How dare the servant's make such a racket? I am copying a very important and very final letter to Prince Larenzo of Holodrum, regretting to tell him that I am far to young to be accepting marriage proposals. As much I would like to, I am strictly forbidden from adding that even if I could accept his flattering proposition, I would never consent to marriage with a man older than my father who's face reminds me forcefully of a Hylian Loach. Fortunately for Prince Larenzo, my father has carefully dictated each word, his secretary has drafted it and now I am copying each letter with absolute care and attention. The final version will be proof read before being sent, just in case I responded to my inner urges to amend my father's words.

Another wave of chatter tickles my ears. I throw my quill to the floor and with it flies the paper I was writing on. I hate being interrupted when I am trying to do my duty as a princess. I almost slip on the correspondence as I jump to my feet and stride towards the door. I glance down. Marvellous - now there is a huge crease down the centre of the letter and the ink has smudged. That means I will have to copy it out again. I curse in a manner that would have made one of the soldiers blush.

I am not in a good mood today.

In a most unladylike manner, which no doubt I will be scolded for later, I fling the door to my balcony open. Below me the great hall stretches – the massive oak doors to my right and the steps leading to the throne room to my left. Great golden chandeliers hang from the ceiling. When I was younger I always imagined that they would make a great swing. Right now I am not interested in this vista.

I lean over the balcony, taking a deep breath as I do ready to express (in an eloquent manner of course) that I would appreciate it if the palace rules of decorum and serenity were obeyed whilst I work. I manage to get out perhaps one of my words before the dry on my lips. What is going on?

It appears that half of the residents of Castletown have decided to invade my home. Whilst this is acceptable, after all today is a public day; it is not acceptable for so many of them to be here at once. Where are the guards? Why are they not doing their job? They are supposed to stop this sort of thing happening. My blood suddenly feels cold. What if it is an uprising? What will I do?

My eye alights on a group of soldiers in the centre of the crowd. I try to calm my breathing and am just about to order the soldiers to tell me precisely what is going on when I realise what is happening. My panic abates as I realise that the guards are just bringing in another prisoner for sentencing. Judging by the number of people here and the way they are jeering and chattering this person must be very bad.

I lean my arms on the balcony and rest my head. From my vantage point I can see almost everything. The only thing I cannot see is the prisoner. The soldiers have formed a tight circle around him to protect him from the crowd. I lazily count the soldiers. There are five? My mind runs over the possibilities of why five men would be needed to capture what seems to be one man. Then it hits me. Of course!

I stand up straight again and stare down, trying to see through the crowd. This must be the person that Varjo was sent after. Finally I will discover his identity!

It is impossible to see anything through the crowd but nonetheless I try. I almost fall over the balcony as I stand on my tiptoes. This is not getting me anywhere. Just as I begin to despair of ever solving this mystery one of my father's guards appears at the head of the stairs. The soldiers are instructed to 'bring him in'.

The crowd parts as the soldiers march pass. I watch closely. In between the mass of flesh, fabric and steel, I catch a glimpse of the prisoner. He walks very tall and proud. I stare harder. I know this is no ordinary prisoner.

As the column of men pass my balcony I finally get a clear view of him. Well, I get to see his head. I am surprised for he barely looks older than I. Surely a hardened criminal would be older than this? His face is lean and he looks pale. I know from my own experience that this probably means he is frightened. Yet he walks tall with a calm sort of confidence. I quickly run my eyes over him. He is unarmed and dressed like a farmer. Judging by his appearance, he does not seem to be the criminal type. Very intriguing.

I quickly plan the best route to get to the throne room from here. I must discover more about this boy and why my father sought him out. More guards surge out from the throne room to restrain the crowd. They are pressing in to get a closer look at the boy. The guards push them away from the doors. It seems his audience with the King is to be private.

I glance back down at the boy. They have reached the stairs. As they begin to climb there is a gap in between the soldiers. I can see his left hand. I would not normally note such things however something catches my eye. His fist is clenched so tightly that his knuckles are white. I see the iron fetters and chains that have him securely bound and on the back of his hand I can see the faint gold outline of a triangle.

My heart begins thudding in my chest. I cannot believe what I have just seen. I shake my head and look down again. The soldiers have reformed their column now and I cannot see the prisoner's hands. I must have imagined that mark. My head begins to ache and strangely enough my right hand begins to tingle, I feel as though I have pins and needles.

This is impossible. In fact, this is ridiculous. I shake my right hand and the feeling vanishes. My heart rate slows again. I really must learn to control that, I decide as I slip back into my room. At least I can understand my father's interest in this person. I simply must find out who he is.

Pushing open the door to the rear of the throne room, I poke my head tentatively into the room and pray that nobody sees me. My father has his back to me and at the moment I am shielded by the thick purples that hang behind his golden throne. The amiable chatter in the room does not dim. I have not been seen. I breathe a sigh of relief and slip into the room. Knowing that my father does not like me to eavesdrop I intend to make my presence known.

I take a breath and hope my nerve holds as I begin my most audacious entrance ever. I hope that my smile is as bright as it always is as I skip forward, one hand holding the letter that I had previously been copying so neatly. I have folded it carefully too so that father will not see that I accidentally trod on it.

"Father," I call his name and see him stiffen. The noise level drops to silent. I trip into the room, and smile broadly. "I have finished the letter, sir." I hold out the letter and then appear to realise that the room is occupied. I am not faking the blush that spreads across my cheeks at this point. I turn my candid gaze upon the assembled mix of advisers and soldiers and my smile falters. "Oh…I am sorry…" I stutter and turn my imploring gaze back to my father.

For a moment I wonder if he will explode with annoyance. "What are you doing here?" He hisses.

I ignore the question and turn my gaze back to the soldiers. I can see the golden haired prisoner being held at the back of the room. "Should I leave?" I whisper. I know my father well enough to know that he would not like to be seen, even by his most intimate cronies, to dismiss his own daughter from his presence. Even so, I am a little anxious as he pauses and thinks. I see him look towards the back of the room and hear him sigh.

"This concerns you too. Sit." He replies. I take my place on the footstool before the throne and sit with my hands folded in my lap. I hope I look the very picture of innocence. My father watches me for a long moment studying my face but eventually turns back to face the room. He beckons a soldier forward. The noise level in the room rises again as the assembled crowd waits.

"Send Varjo to me." He orders. The soldier bows low and moments later Varjo strolls into the throne room. He stands directly before the throne but does not bow. Instead he removes his helmet and stands at ease.

This is the first time I have seen his face. I admit I am surprised and despite myself, very interested. His black hair falls half over his face, his frame is tall and lithe, and his skin unnaturally pale but his eyes are the most striking feature. They are crimson. I gasp in surprise. He catches the soft noise and glances up. As our eyes meet my breath catches in my throat and my heart begins beating rapidly.

I do not think my reaction is because I am attracted to him but there is something about him that I find both alluring and frightening. I realise I am staring and turn my head. Not before I see a quick smirk pass across his thin lips.

"Your Majesty, I have done your bidding." He announces above the chattering noise of the group. His voice is attractive too. By the gods, I am in trouble.

"You were delayed." My father's voice cut across the noise. The court falls silent again. "Why?"

"There were complications." Varjo's explanation, if it could be called that, is severely lacking. I notice that he does not lower his gaze when my father looks at him but stares right back, those red eyes gleaming curiously.

My father frowns but seems to accept Varjo's words. I wonder if it is the presence of an audience that has stayed his tongue. He turns his attention back to the crowd and in an undertone hisses, "And what of the spectators? Why are there so many?"

Varjo smiles slightly. In the same level tone as before he says, "I could hardly prevent them from following, Sire. Castletown was anxious to see the prisoner." His attitude was bordering on the insolent yet he was not checked once. Now if it had been me…

I hear my father sigh and mutter something unintelligible.

Varjo must have extremely sharp hearing for he said, in quite an amused tone too, "I wouldn't concern yourself, your majesty. They'll have forgotten in a day or two. You'll just have to send the Princess shopping alone, that will cause enough of a stir to help them forget this."

I can imagine the look my father shot at Varjo as he said this but Varjo merely smiles back, completely unabashed. How does he get away with this? My father chuckles slightly and says, "Never mind that. Bring him to me."

Varjo bows. It is the first respectful act I have seen from him so far and yet my father does not seem to mind. He must obviously be very important. I personally would not take such disrespect from a mere soldier. Varjo turns to his soldiers and signals to one of his men.

This time I get a good view of the prisoner. As I saw before, he walks proudly as he approaches the throne. His hands are still tightly clenched into fists and he is bound very securely. His neck, wrists and ankles are shackled tightly and each of the soldiers holds one of the chains. He is obviously a peasant. If his attire did not already scream that to me, the very rough nature of his appearance would. He is bordering on the thin side, his skin is tanned and he is covered in dust.

As he approaches the throne I see him raise his head to look at the statue of the goddesses behind the throne and he closes his eyes. Is he praying? His eyes flick back open almost as quickly as they closed. For the briefest of moments they rest on me and I see them widen slightly. I have never seen such an intense blue before. His mouth is set into a thin line. I can see he is anxious yet trying not to show it. Were he not a criminal I would feel sorry for him.

My father takes a step forward as the guards stop. I watch the soldiers push the prisoner forward so that he stands directly before the king. Varjo stands to his left. I hear him whisper to the prisoner to bow.

Given that his body is covered in chains and he is obviously tired and confused the prisoner manages a very credible bow. He almost falls over with the weight of the chains as he tries to stand upright again. To my surprise, Varjo helps him back to his feet and keeps him standing by propping his elbow up.

"Are you certain this is he?" My father addresses Varjo in what he hopes is a whisper. Varjo nods and I here my father mutter something to himself again. He clears his throat and turns to the prisoner, "You are Link, correct?"

The prisoner nods. Well now I know his name, I suppose. I am not sure I like it though.

"You own a small ranch in Ordon Province, correct?"

Link nods again. Perhaps he is a mute. Any ordinary prisoner would have at least attempted to protest his innocence by now. I begin to suspect this prisoner is anything but ordinary.

"Do you know why you have been brought here?" My father's voice is stern yet it is kind. It reminds me of the times I get scolded by him. It is not the way he would usually speak to a prisoner.

"I have done no wrong, sir." Link speaks so quietly that had I not been so intent on this exchange, I might have missed it. There is no mistaking his soft Ordonian accent either. In the court of my father it sounds completely out of place.

"No." My father is agreeing with him? If he has done nothing wrong then why has he been dragged here in chains? "I am King Daphnes Nohansen Hyrule." My father's introduction is unnecessary in my opinion, nobody living in Hyrule would fail to recognise him in all his white haired, round faced and rotund glory. As I quite often remind him. "This is my daughter, Crown Princess Zelda." My heart skips a beat. I really should learn to control that. Now why am I being brought into this discussion?

Link turns his intense gaze back on to me. I see that strange look in his eyes again. I am quite used to people staring at me in admiration but Link's eyes do not show that he is attracted to me. Rather he appears to be alarmed. Perhaps my beauty has stunned him. I smile faintly but he continues staring at me. I politely and deliberately turn my gaze back to my father who is addressing Link.

"You are, of course, aware of the significance of her name, are you not?" He asked.

Now this is something new to me. I glance at Link expecting to see that mop of golden hair shake in gentle denial.

"I am, sir."

Damn.

"Then you know what it is I will ask of you." My father's voice is flat. Oh gods, no! Surely he will not offer me in marriage to this peasant, will he? All right, I shall admit he looks pleasant enough. If I was feeling generous I might even describe him as handsome but still…

"No, sir."

My father shakes his head in slight disbelief. I swear the tension is going to kill me. I really should learn to control these panic attacks I keep having. I must learn to be calm and serene. Oh, and I must learn to breath. I tell myself this as I realise that I am still holding my breath and my face is turning pink. I gasp involuntarily as the air escapes my lungs. Obviously telling myself to breath is no substitute for the real thing. I hear a slight chuckle to my right and see that Varjo is again laughing at me. Curse him.

My father has not noticed my preoccupation. He is himself preoccupied, deep in thought he paces to and fro in front of me. He abruptly stops and faces Link. "You are aware, Link, that the name 'Zelda' is only conferred on certain members of the Hylian ruling family?" I suppress a grin at this as I try to picture my nameless male ancestors being inflicted with such a feminine name. "It was originally decreed that all females born into the family would bear this name, however in later years the tradition became that only those daughters bearing the mark of the holy Triforce would be cursed with the title."

Cursed? Wait, I am cursed? I glance at Link and then Varjo who are both are nodding. Am I the only one who is confused?

"It became apparent that the only time the holy Triforce appears is when the evil King Ganondorf is awakening from his slumber in the Sacred Realm. When the Triforce of Power begins to stir this triggers of the Triforce of Wisdom and the Triforce of Courage to seek the descendants of the Hero of Time and Princess of Destiny."

I cannot help the sigh that escapes my lips at these words. I am so tired of hearing the 'legend' of the Hero of Time. It is just a fairytale and I am the only person in Hyrule who appears to see that. I roll my eyes and see that this time Link, Varjo and my Father are all looking at me. I shrug my shoulders prettily and say, "It is a mere Legend."

"As you can see, Link – my daughter is the most foolish girl ever to possess the Triforce of Wisdom." Says my father with a dry chuckle. I can feel my cheeks burning. How could he say such a mean thing in front of everyone? I notice that the only person who is not laughing at me is Link. For a brief moment our eyes meet and I can read some emotion there in the depths of those blue orbs. Sympathy? Comprehension? Concern?

Oh no, I am staring at the peasant. I look away quickly. It would not do at all for a Princess of the realm to be friends with a farmer. I must be conscious of my appearance, even if everybody in the room is currently laughing at me.

"Nevertheless," My father's voice effectively stops the laughter. I am relieved but still furious with him. "The sign of the Holy Triangle was clearly visible on her hand at birth. She is the heir to the Triforce of Wisdom."

Link nods solemnly. I wonder if anybody is as bored as I am right now? I glance at Varjo and he winks at me. I am just about to let my mind wander into thoughts of why Varjo's eyes are red when my father says,

"And therefore it is evident that Ganondorf is awakening. My daughter will need protection from that demon. You will be that protection."

I do not need protection! I do not seek protection. Certainly I do not want the attentions of some small-scale farmer to be a bodyguard. I jump to my feet and am just about to open my mouth when Link's quiet voice cuts across me.

"I don't wish to do that, Sir."

Why is it that when he speaks, everybody listens? I hope he can see just how furious I am as I glare in his direction. He 'don't wish'… wait, he does not want to be my protector? This is perfect. I almost let my glare soften.

"You have no choice." My father's words are final. Link stares up at him. He is not defiant but he is not submitting either. His voice softens as he continues, "You cannot deny who you are, Link of Ordon. Varjo…"

Varjo suddenly grabs Link's wrist and holds his left hand aloft. I see Link's eyes close and he turns his head. On the back of his hand I see again that strange golden mark faintly glowing. All is silent in the room. My right hand starts to itch. As I rub my hand lightly, the gold on Link's hand intensifies. My father nods and Link's blue eyes flicker open again as Varjo's grip slackens.

"The Triforce of Courage has chosen you as its heir, Link of Ordon." I have never heard my father speak so smugly before. Link knows he is defeated. Even I cannot deny the symbol of the Triforce on his hands, and I do not believe in the Gods. "Even if you should deny my request now, one day you will hear the call of your destiny and will be compelled to answer. It is a burden you cannot escape or renounce. You are bound by the Goddesses themselves to protect my daughter."

Link turns his gaze towards me and I can see the resignation lying there. Did he know this already? "I can't do this." He says softly.

"I see." My father sighs and takes his seat on the throne. "I cannot force you to accede to my wishes." He says in a reflective tone. Now what is he up to? "Nor shall I threaten you. I shall ask instead – do you deny you have a duty to your country?"

"No, Sir."

"And do you agree that your duty is to protect and serve your homeland in any way you are able?"

"Yes, Sir."

"Then why do you seek to deny my request? Your fate is bound to hers. You cannot deny this any more than you can deny the sign of the Goddesses on your hand. If you love your country, you have no choice but to accept."

Link looks at me again. I cannot read what he is thinking this time. My father follows the trend of his gaze and smiles slightly, "All I am asking of you is that you accept your fate a little earlier."

"I haven't a choice, have I?" Says Link softly.

I can almost hear my father's sigh of relief; I certainly see it reflected in Varjo's face. "You will be of course be receiving a handsome salary for your services. You will be placed in a position of honour amongst the Hylian Guards. Your home will be the castle from here on." I glance at Link to see how he takes this promise. He is offered the kind of power and position many Hylians would kill to obtain. Link does not look suitably thrilled.

"What about my home?"

"Your home will be the castle." Repeats my father. "That ranch of yours is useless now. I will arrange for it to be sold."

Link nods. I cannot understand him at all. He is being dragged from the depths of poverty to a life of riches and prestige and he is still miserable? What could be so good about a miserable little ranch anyway? "And my animals, Sir?"

"Oh, you were the horse breeder, were you not?" My father beams at the feat of remembrance. "The horses can come here to my stable. Mayor Silas may dispose of the rest as he sees fit. Varjo, you must remind me to send a messenger to him."

"Yes, Sire. Will there be anything else?"

"Yes, get the boy kitted out and bring him to the proving grounds. I wish to see if his skill is as legendary as his name." A few people chuckle at this. Father sweeps from the room back to his personal chambers. My father has disposed of Link's previous life in one fell swoop. I cannot help but feel a little guilty as I look at him. Varjo is unchaining him with practised ease and there is not an eye in the whole throne room that is not fixed on him at this moment. I am willing to wager that they all think he is unnaturally calm. He has been granted a life changing opportunity and he is just standing there as if frozen in time.

Long after the crowds had dispersed and my father had returned to his chambers all equally disappointed and incredulous I sneak on to the balcony where Link is standing alone. Who would have thought his "legendary" skill was none existent? He had never wielded a weapon before in his life and even in a simple sparring match he could not hold his own.

What a fantastic bodyguard he will be for me.

Tomorrow he is being sent to Outset Island far south of here to train with one of father's old retainers named Orca. Varjo is going to escort him. Perhaps he will be left there, forgotten and father will get over this whole idea that I need protecting.

I watch him for a long time as he watches the sun setting. Throughout the day, he has stood stoic and silent. Even when the crowd mocked him he retained his serenity. I have to admire him for that. I take a step forward and he turns to look at me. Perhaps my stealth skills are not as good as I had imagined. I plaster a smile to my face an step forward.

"Good evening, Link."

"Speaking to a peasant, are we? How very condescending of you." He remarks. What has got into him? He should be flattered that I desired to speak with him before he leaves. His voice is so distant and cold that I almost shiver.

"That is no way to greet a Princess." I reprimand him smoothly. "You have no reason to be rude to me."

I see the surprise in his eyes. "No reason?" He repeats. I detect a hint of anger in that soft voice of his. He sighs, "You're right, Princess. I shouldn't take this out on you."

"Take what out on me? What ails you?"

I see surprise in his eyes again. It is the kind of incredulity that irritates me. "You have no idea do you?" He shakes his head. "You think I should be jumping for joy. I'm just some peasant that got lucky and should be rejoicing for this opportunity to serve you, right?"

"Well…yes, actually I do." I do think that he is ungrateful.

"Do you have any idea what it is like to be ripped away from your home with no choice? Do you even understand what it's like to be told everything you love will be sold or disposed of?" He almost glares at me and I take a step back. "You think my possessions are worthless because they've no monetary value. You think because I'm an ignorant peasant I'll be happy when I'm offered wealth and position and a life at the castle."

"I…I do not." I protest but he disregards my words. To be fair, I am lying.

"You do. You've never once thought of anything but yourself, Princess. You'll never see the world beyond the little sphere you live in because you are capable of judging only by appearance. That makes you the ignorant one. I don't think you're a conceited, spoilt brat just because you wear nice clothes, Princess."

"What?" How dare he speak to me like this? That remark was the one that tipped me over the edge. I screamed and ranted at him, probably calling him some very rude names in the process but he just stood there, smiling slightly at me. I swear I have never met anybody so irritating in my life. When my words run dry and I am gasping for breath he bows at me and whispers: "Forgive me, my lady, but somebody had to tell you." And with those words he left.

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