Author's Note: It's been several years now, but if you're wondering, "Why now?" you can thank the reviewer, FeatherBlade, for bringing this fic to mind. I'm not sure if I'll find the time to continue updating, but I did discover that I had this chapter waiting in the wings and decided it would be better to share it than continue holding it back. Hope you like it.

Chapter Four

Perception
(Namarupa)

Doran made a point of never going near Hyrule castle. Being anywhere near the place tended to trigger painful memories and unearth the ghosts of ambitions he had thought deeply buried. He had decided around the time that he took up his new name that he would be much healthier if he kept a generous distance between himself and the center of Hyrule's power.

He could only assume that he must have finally lost his mind as he entered the castle courtyard and began ascending the broad marble steps. He kept an eye on the row of soldiers standing guard along the perimeter of the plaza, thinking that surely one of them would find reason to stop his progress, if only because of his unusual appearance. But none of them even twitched from their statuesque posture. It was no wonder that the prince had been kidnapped if this was how they guarded the palace—like men napping on their feet.

He reached the top step and the pair of mildly more attentive guards perched on either side of the entrance, but the guards made no move to stop his progress though they did regard him more closely. Doran smiled inwardly at their incompetence. If he had wished the royal family harm, he could have destroyed them all and escaped before the soldiers caught on to his intentions. Granted, that was not his intention this time, but they were fools to simply let him pass without questioning him.

Though the castle had looked as extravagant as ever from a distance, he could see upon closer inspection that the misfortune in the countryside had impacted this structure as well. The great wooden doors were poorly patched and the velvet carpet was threadbare in places, and if the great entrance hall had fallen into such disrepair, he could only imagine the state of the inner rooms.

A guard began shadowing him after he entered the hall, following him covertly from the other side of a row of marble pillars. While the gesture was an improvement in attentiveness, it was hardly worthwhile; one man was scarcely enough to stop him if he meant anyone in the audience chamber harm. Though he knew that he shouldn't provoke the soldier, he couldn't help but turn a bitter grin on the man who was trying to be so stealthy in his observation. The guard visibly trembled in response and quickly attempted to blend into the background.

While he was distracted by looking around for his comrades, Doran slipped past the guard and used a tapestry for cover as he joined a small crowd of petitioners waiting at a polite distance from the throne while the king argued openly with his daughter. Maneuvering himself to the front of the crowd, Doran tried to disentangle the royal conversation from the echoes of other conversations reverberating throughout the lofty space.

"But father, we have to do something!" Zelda cried in outrage. "Galen has been kidnapped and vile creatures are attacking the villages in the north. If we don't retaliate, they will just keep invading and destroying the countryside along the way. We have to stop them!"

Doran raised an eyebrow at Zelda's surprisingly accurate understanding of the situation, but her father only scoffed.

"There's nothing we can do," the king said gruffly. "We have already lost one village, perhaps more. We need to defend what we still have." Wringing his hands, his dark eyes cast about the chamber as if he could see enemies in the shadows waiting for a chance to strike.

Zelda's braids went flying as she shook her head. "What about Galen, then? Aren't you even going to attempt rescuing your own son?"

"You didn't see the destruction left by the men who captured him. They were frightfully powerful and our men were at a woeful disadvantage to their skill. I don't want to further enrage this enemy. No…our only choice is to wait for their terms and bargain for his life then."

"Bargain for his life?" Zelda's voice was edged with hysteria and her hands were clenched so tightly in her skirts that her knuckles were white. "So you're just going to surrender?"

"We have no choice, girl! You think you know better than me, but I'm here to tell you that you don't understand anything. We have no hope against these people."

Zelda bristled further and glanced back over her shoulder at Link who was standing uncomfortably on the step beneath her, his eyes focused on his boots. "What about the legendary Hero? Have you even given up on him?"

The king gripped the arms of his throne and glared fiercely at her. "The Hero is a fairy tale! This is our hour of need and he is nowhere to be seen. I refuse to continue placing my hope in a fantasy."

Doran had to admit that the man's words inspired the slightest bit of respect within him; unfortunately, the king was making his choice for the absolutely wrong reasons. His choice was based on desperation, not wisdom, and he was certainly doing nothing to fulfill the absent Hero's obligations himself. He was simply giving up.

"What if the Hero was real, father?" Zelda nudged Link forward, though he only gaped at her with panic in his eyes. "What if he has made his appearance precisely when we needed him, just as the ancient stories say?"

The king laughed bitterly. "This boy? Are you trying to tell me this peasant boy is the Hero we have been waiting for?"

Doran might have laughed if the king's idiocy wasn't so pathetically predictable.

"How can you say that? Look! He has the sword—the blade that was created to dispel evil!"

Shaking his head, the king replied blandly, "He has the sword, yes. The goddesses only know how he got his hands on it, but that blade proves nothing. It has no power, and without their blessing, it is nothing more than a mere sword. Do you think the true Hero would show up here with a useless weapon?!" His face red with rage, the king rose to his feet and shook his fist at Zelda. "No, daughter. That boy is no Hero and our land is already defeated. I will not entertain your childish fantasies any longer."

Turning to his steward, the king muttered, "I am feeling unwell. Tell the rest of them to come back tomorrow."

He shuffled out of the audience chamber with his daughter's rage-filled eyes burning into his back. Link stood next to her uncertainly, his expression a mixture of reluctance and shock that told Doran he hadn't been expecting Zelda to proclaim him the Hero. When the king was out of sight, Zelda spun on her heel, and the crowd around Doran shrank away instinctively as if she could throw literal daggers with her glare. He was unsurprised that her gaze found him so quickly and he simply smiled at the irony of it all.

"Master Doran," she hissed, flying across the chamber toward him with Link floating anxiously along in her wake. Snatching at Doran's sleeve, she tugged him away from the throng and into a shadowy corner. "We have to do something," she said when they were out of earshot.

"We?" Doran echoed, his smile widening.

"Yes. I need your help, and something tells me that you will be willing to give it." She looked back at Link and said earnestly, "Both of you, meet me in the courtyard in an hour. We are going on a journey, so prepare appropriately."

She gave the order as if she was already assured of their agreement, and Doran felt obligated to remind her that she was assuming far too much. "Why would I help you? I just set up shop in this town and I've done enough traveling in the last few years to last me a lifetime. I may have saved your life once, but I didn't intend to give you the impression that I would be making a habit of keeping you safe."

Her eyes flashed with anger. "You will help me because an invasion would put you in as much jeopardy as the rest of us. And you are no simple traveler. I saw the way you handled that sword. You have been trained to use it, and I have need of your experience." Lifting her chin, she added tartly, "But if you still refuse to offer your expertise, be assured that I can pay you generously for your trouble."

"You are playing a dangerous game," Doran said with a raised brow. "You do understand that a hired sword is only as loyal as the depth of his employer's purse."

Regarding him with a piercing gaze, she said softly, "You will not betray me."

Her trust was astounding and Doran had to swallow his laughter and look away sharply in order to keep his composure. But he was arguing for no reason. He knew that he had no choice but to go with her in order to fulfill his own goals.

She disappeared through a doorway without waiting for a response.

Shrugging, Doran headed back to the courtyard.

"Why do you think she said that?" Link asked softly, startling him out of his thoughts.

Considering the befuddled young man briefly, Doran wondered if Link was asking him because he thought that Doran was actually a reliable source of information on the princess's unpredictable thoughts. The fact that he was fairly good at guessing Zelda's reactions for reasons that Link would not even be able to imagine made the question all the more laughable.

"Why did she say I was the Hero?"

Avoiding the question, Doran pointed at the Master Sword perched on Link's back. "Where did you get that sword, boy?"

Link looked away sadly. "It was my father's. He died when I was young and left it to me. I didn't know it was anything so important."

"She said you were the Hero because she can sense it within you."

His brows furrowed, Link focused his utterly sincere gaze on Doran again, but said nothing, simply digesting this information. On some level, Doran felt sympathy for the way Link was always burdened with the full weight of a pathetic kingdom's hopes and dreams, but his sympathy was countered by the fact that Link always foolishly served the ungrateful bastards with no thought to his own wellbeing. He took on the burden without even considering how unfair the responsibility was and that lack of self-respect baffled Doran.

"I know what you need to do to give that sword back its power," Doran offered reluctantly. "I think that your presumptuous princess suspected as much already, and that's why she demanded my help."

Link nodded, but still remained silent, his expression downcast but determined.

"Let's get back to the shop and gather up some supplies," Doran sighed. "We'll need them where we're going."

Link nodded again and followed him as obediently as a well-trained dog.

Doran didn't know how he was going to endure the company of the two people he hated more than anyone or anything else in the world, but he could live with it better than he had lived with his inaction of recent decades. He might be miserable, but at least he would be taking an active role in his misery rather than letting it control him. That was more than the king of Hyrule could say.