Work Text:
“I’ll go,” says a young boy in a cloak.
All the people in the bar turn to him. The cloaked boy gets up from the dark corner by a window. His large black cloak swishes almost mysteriously behind him as he gets up. His face is completely covered by the shadow of the hood of his cloak.
The bartender laughs, shaking a drink in the process, “You, boy? This isn’t a joke you know.”
The boy nods, “Of course it isn’t. I never did say it was joke.”
A man sitting at the bar points drunkenly at his frame. “Have you seen yourself in a mirror?” he slurs, then suddenly bursts into laughter.
“His mamma must have told him he was big and strong,” says the woman beside the man, who slaps the young boy hard on his back.
The boy moves swiftly and quietly, holding the woman’s hand behind her back.
“Don’t you dare disrespect my mother like that,” he snarls quietly in her ear.
The woman shakily pulls away. The drunk man noticing her discomfort, tries to calm down the mysterious boy, but he has already turned away towards the door.
“I’ll go,” the young boy repeats. “I’ll defeat that vile monster for the Dane people.”
The laughter dies down as the people look around and whisper “who truly would be stupid enough to kill that monster who murdered all those soldiers like nothing?”
The bartender raises an eyebrow, “If even you could, how would you be able to get to Denmark from here?”
From beneath the cloak, the boy shifts. “I have my ways,” he says almost in thought.
He leaves the bar, leaving a generous tip on the counter. The bartender quietly excuses himself, slipping the cash in his pocket, and meets the young boy outside the bar.
The boy leans on the streetlamp. As he turns to meet the bartender, his hood gets caught on a small hook on the lamp. The hood half slips down, still caught on the small hook, and the bartender meets the boy’s green eyes in surprise. Before the bartender can inspect the face underneath the cloak in scrutiny, the boy quickly pulls the cloak over his head concealing his features again.
“Well?” asks the boy, shifting to a position that the bartender cannot see his face.
“There’s a boat leaving for Denmark,” he points out to one of the cargo ships. He then sighs, “Are you sure about this?”
The boy nods in absolute confidence, “You don’t need to worry about me, sir.”
“Either you’re the bravest boy I’ve ever met or the stupidest,” the bartender says tiredly.
He rummages through his pocket as the boy looks curiously. “You might need this,” the bartender says, pulling out the cash he was given earlier.
“But sir-”
“No, I insist,” the bartender smiles as the boy nods in gratitude.
“You remind me so much of my son,” says the bartender deep in thought. “He had this crazy idea that he needed to prove himself to me, so he went to Denmark to defeat that monster. ‘Just watch papa. I’ll come home victorious’ was the last thing he told me.”
The bartender looks away as he conveys his wishes to the young boy, “If you find him, could you bring him back?”
“Of course,” the boy says. “But what is his name?”
“Beowulf,” the bartender replies.
—————
As the boy watches the bartender walk back to the bar from the small window of the ship, he sighs. That bartender finally left. The cloak he’s wearing is way too warm for comfort. He pulls down the cloak with a small grunt, since it got tangled in his hair.
“Ouch!” he groans, massaging his poor hair.
He shakes his head slightly, then decides to look out the small window. He catches his faint reflection and smiles softly. It’s been a while since he’s seen his face. His green eyes that his mamma always liked. His long brown hair swaying at his shoulders that gave him the girlish features he always loves. His mamma was always telling him how lovely of a girl he is. He sighs discontentedly; it’s hard pretending to be a boy. Even the name choosing. Her brain halted in its thoughts. Oh god, she hasn’t even chosen a male name for herself! She certainly can’t go by Dorothea. She places her hand under her chin, a habit her mamma always teased her about, and goes deep into thought. What’s a good boy name that she could use?
Her eyes brighten. Beowulf! She knows for sure that he’s one of the victims that Grendel killed. He’s merciless, she’s heard. Kills with no remorse whatsoever. She guesses that’s what comes from being a monster hated by God. But still, she wonders what he did deserve that hate from God. She thought that God loved all his creations.
She knows it’s easier this way. To pretend to be a young boy instead of roaming around as a girl. It’s easier to get around. Even if that means she can’t show her face.
The ship definitely is small considering it’s a cargo ship, but it works for what she needs.
It takes hours and hours on end for her to arrive finally at Denmark’s docks. She pulls her hood over her head, tucking in those loose strands of hair. Before she reaches the docks, a hand pulls her back into a few crates at the corner of the ship.
“Who are you?” whispers a small voice behind her.
Dorothea immediately freezes and forgets all her confidence she had earlier.
Oh gosh, she thinks to herself, I’m done for.
“Uhh,” she stammers, turning to face the unknown person behind her.
She blinks a few times watching the small figure focus in her vision. A small boy of about eight holds onto her cloak.
“Oh hello,” she smiles softly. “What’s your name?”
“I asked you first!” the little boy pouts.
She laughs. Her laugh is so contagious that the little boy begins to laugh with her. She ushers him to sit down on the floor with her.
“Well, I’m Beowulf and you?” she lies quickly, immediately feeling guilty. She knows this boy might not willingly expose her but it’s the safest thing to do. To make herself feel better, she wraps the cloak even tighter around herself.
The little boy’s eyes twinkle, “My name is Acacius.”
“Oh!” she says in surprise, “You have the same name as my cat!”
Acacius’ eyebrows shoot up, “You have a cat?”
He wiggles in happiness, “I wanna meet him!” he yells, lifting his hands up.
Dorothea quickly shushes him as she ducks further behind a crate. A few men are unloading the cargo ship’s crates onto the docks. She certainly doesn’t want to catch their attention. They remind her too much of her stepfather. Her train of thought suddenly pauses as she turns to look at the disheveled boy beside her. He’s so young but he was on the ship?That makes no sense to her… unless?
“What are you doing on the ship?” she asks him.
Acacius turns to her with a wide smile, “Doing what you’re doing, of course!”
“And that is…?”
“Hiding, silly!” he giggles, grabbing her hand to pull her behind other crates. She feels his strong grip on her hand, and truly wonders who this small child is.
“Where do you want to go?” he says as he guides her out of the ship and through the docks.
She puts some careful thought into what she wants to say. He could help her, but what if he reports her to the authorities? She immediately shakes her head at the thought. He’s a young boy. He can’t hurt, right?
She sighs deeply, “The castle.”
Acacius skids to a stop, almost making her collide into him. She takes a deep breath, carefully inspecting his unreadable face. For a young boy, he looks way too exhausted and shriveled up. Maybe he has been through a ton that she cannot hope to understand.
His face brightens up, with his unreadable expression gone, “I can take you there! But… why?”
“I want to… defeat that monster,” she says simply, hesitating just for a second. She wonders if it’s a good idea to trust a young stranger so easily. Who knows if he’s as good as he seems?
“You’re going to get killed. He’s not easy to kill,” he says, placing his hands on his hips.
“I know,” she huffs. “Everyone’s been telling me that, but I want to try.”
He just stares at her determined expression, then shrugs, “Okay, but I’m coming with you.”
“But…” she flatters, “you’re a child?”
“How are you going to get there?” Acacius counters. “I know the way.”
Dorothea ponders for a bit. She knows she’ll have to identify herself to the guards eventually because that’s what she remembers her stepfather telling her. It’s effortless now, since she has a name, she can now use. But what will she do if the guards ask her who this young boy is? She can imagine that will be a huge problem.
“Fine, you can come with me on one condition…” she waits until he looks at her curiously. “If someone asks, you’re helping me on the mission and you’re actually fourteen.”
“You think I can pass as fourteen?” he asks, looking up at her as to prove his point.
She gestures at him, “Well some fourteen-year-old’s look eight, so I think you’ll be fine.”
He shrugs, “Okay, if you say so.”
She straightens her posture, checking her cloak around her head. All seems secure and going according to plan.
“Alright then, Acacius. Please lead the way,” she says grandiosely, her hands making a sweeping motion for him to advance.
“You’re polite, Beowulf. For you know, a castaway,” says the young boy, walking at a faster pace than before.
She winces slightly at her fake name. She feels bad for stealing the bartender’s son’s name, but she had no other idea. She really hopes her young companion didn’t notice her slight discomfort.
They walk for miles, barely conversing with each other to save their breath. It seems like it’s a longer journey than she originally thought. As the water slowly drains into their body with only a drop left, Dorothea starts to feel a bit nervous. When will they get there?
Suddenly, Acacius pokes her in the shoulder. “We’re here!” he says excitedly.
She gapes at the huge building in front of her. A whole castle! It’s just like the books she’s read. In a split moment, Acacius breaks into a run and she starts to run after him.
I wonder why he’s running? she wonders as he begins to run faster.
“Wait!” she gasps, holding onto her cloak as tightly as she can. “Why are you running?”
“It’s almost evening!” he yells behind him. “At night, Grendel comes into the hall of the castle to slay anyone in his way.”
She shivers as a gust of wind coolly pasts through her cloak. She’s so close now. She can’t back down now. It’s way too late for that anyways. They arrive at the door where a Danish watchman is standing by. He inspects both Dorothea and Acacius with a stern look on his face.
“Well?” he says, looking uninterested. “What are you two doing here at this hour?”
Acacius widely smiles, earning a small gruff from the watchman. “You kids are not supposed to be here at this hour.”
“We want to help Lord Hrothgar get rid of the beast, Grendel,” Dorothea says as the watchman’s eyebrows shoot up. “We’re wondering if you’ll let us in, so we can speak with your Lord.”
“Kind young sirs,” the watchman says carefully, “I don’t think you’ll be able to defeat that beast on your own. Haven’t you heard? Soldiers have been killed!”
Dorothea ignores the watchman’s warnings, “I have an idea that I would like to propose to Lord Hrothgar. Please, can you let us in?”
The watchman sighs, “No can do.”
“Can you at least tell him that Acacius and Beowulf have a plan?” Acacius says. “Maybe he’ll give us a chance?”
He places his face in his hands, sighing, before getting up from his seat, “Very well. Wait here then.”
The watchman opens the gate, leaving them both outside as it starts to get darker and darker.
—————
The watchman walks with a slight limp in the dark corridors leading up to the main hall where Lord Hrothgar resides in. He feels so numb. He hasn’t heard the name, Beowulf in a long time. Ever since he left home… ever since he couldn’t go back… The watchman knocks on the large ornate doors, while feeling more vacant than ever.
“Come in,” booms a voice from the door.
The watchman opens the door, his leg dragging behind him. A kind middle aged man is sitting on a simple wooden throne, going through a few papers on his lap.
“Ahh!” he says, smiling hugely, placing the papers on the floor. “Dolion! What brings you here?”
“Lord Hrothgar,” Dolion says, bowing low, “there’s a few… young boys out there who claim they have a plan to defeat the monster, Grendel.”
Hrothgar’s face changes into one of remorse. He says nothing for a while, pondering.
Finally, he asks, “What did you tell them?”
“I told them to leave… but they insisted. So, I told them I would talk to you,” Dolion replies.
Hrothgar sighs, “Well, let them in then.”
Dolion’s head snaps up, “What? But Your Grace-”
“It’s getting dark. They’re going to be attacked either way… so let them in.”
Dolion bows again, “As you wish.”
—————
Dolion’s shoulders sag as soon as he leaves Hrothgar’s sight. He isn’t sure what his Lord wants to do with the children. There’s no way he will send them against that monster that had killed countless soldiers before… right?
He opens the gate, seeing both boys still waiting but sitting on the floor, instead of standing. The taller boy stands up rapidly; the hood of his cloak sliding down past his forehead for a second.
“Well?” the taller boy asks, fixing his hood as the younger boy, Acacius he remembers, stands up giddily.
“He says you can come in.”
Acacius’ eyes light up as the taller boy seems to lighten up as well.
“Thank you so much, sir…?” the taller boy says, waiting for Dolion to finish his sentence.
“Dolion… right this way you two,” he answers, gesturing towards the inside as Acacius skips happily inside.
“How old is he?” Dolion asks suspiciously, watching Acacius run inside.
“Fourteen,” replies the older boy unfazed, walking right behind the younger boy.
“Hmm, right,” says Dolion, trying to catch up to Acacius, so he can lead them towards the hall.
All three of them walk in silence until they get to the large door. Dolion looks at both boys, suddenly remembering the older boy’s name. Beowulf. Oh, how he misses his father.
—————
Dorothea feels so nervous. This is it. It’s time to convince the Lord to let her try and kill the monster. She knows she couldn’t have done it without Acacius, so she squeezes his hand in gratitude. He looks up, giving her a bright smile.
The doors opens, revealing a very tired gentleman on a simple throne.
“Oh hello!” he says, spreading his arms out. “You’ve come with a plan, yes?”
Dorothea gulps, “I’m not sure, sir, if it’ll work.”
He clasps his hands in front of him, “What’s your name, lad?”
“Beowulf.”
Unbeknownst to both of them, that name triggers a strong reaction out of Dolion, because… that was his old name. Acacius watches his reaction with interest as the other two continue speaking about the plan.
“… I was thinking we could set a trap,” Dorothea says, her demeanour changing. “A bunch of ‘real’ soldiers as bait, but it’s only straw and meat as to draw in the monster. While it may work momentarily, we have a team of actual soldiers that take him by surprise!”
Lord Hrothgar looks mildly interested, “Well, lad, I believe that’s a beautiful plan! But unfortunately, a whole team is too loud and might alert the monster. Might I suggest one?”
She blinks, “One?”
“And I think the bait is a great idea, but we might have to place actual soldiers in the hall too. It’s the only way to secure that Grendel will take the bait.”
She nods, “I see… okay. And when do you think you’ll put this into play?”
He smiles, “Tonight!”
—————
The hall is full of great activity. Lord Hrothgar is commanding soldiers left and right, while Dorothea helps prepare the straw men with Dolion and Acacius.
Acacius looks at Dolion curiously and decides to ask him, “Why did you react like that when he said his name?”
Dolion looks up as Acacius points to Dorothea who is quietly humming to herself as she fluffs up the straw men. She smiles proudly at her work. Dolion stares at Dorothea’s mysterious cloak that’s always wrapped around her, and he wonders who is truly under that cloak.
Finally, Dolion decides on the safest answer he can think of, “Well it was the name of my old mate.”
Dorothea freezes. Oh no, she thinks, if he knows the real Beowulf, then I’m done for!
Acacius tilts his head in confusion, “But it seemed like-”
“All done!” booms Lord Hrothgar. “Is everyone in place?”
All heads turn to face him, and everyone gives an affirmation to his statement.
“Very well… lad?” Dorothea turns to him, giving a confused smile. “Will you ambush him?”
She’s stunned, “What?”
“Well, it was your plan, and you seem nimble. I believe you’re the perfect choice,” he says, giving her a slight nod. “And if you need help… just tap your foot three times consecutively.”
She’s horrified. She knows that she originally wanted to defeat the monster, but she didn’t think she’d actually be sent out. It’s always been just a dream to be the hero. She never would have thought it would come true. As all the soldiers get into places to sleep, she feels her nerves get stronger by the minute. She watches the sun fully go down and the hall being filled with the shadows of twilight. She smiles, as she’s watching Acacius’ chest rise and fall. She feels a sudden urge to protect him, even though she hasn’t been with him long.
She creeps up to one of the soldiers’ swords and sheathes it in her cloak. She might have to take it off to make her plan effective, but for now she’ll keep it on.
After a while, she hears thumping sounds which make her heart jump into her throat. She takes a deep breath… it’s showtime. She sneaks behind a pillar, waiting for Grendel to come closer. The thumping sounds gets louder, then stops. A shrill scream breaks the peaceful silence. Growls and laughter are heard over the screams as they slowly die down.
“Oh, human flesh! It is quite scrumptious,” growls the creature she assumes is Grendel.
There’s scraping on the floor and Dorothea begins to panic. She can’t do this! The last time she held up a sword was… for her and her mother against her stepfather. But this is way different! This is a monster who has killed countless! What makes her so sure she can defeat him?
She begins to look around. It’s suddenly gotten too quiet. She can’t hear the scrapes and the munching of bones anymore. As her thoughts begin to ascend into panic, she feels a warm breeze on her hood.
Oh no, she thinks, I’m dead.
She’s pulled back aggressively. Her cloak’s hood is caught on sharp claws, and she’s pulled off her feet. As sudden as she was off her feet, the hood rips and she falls on her bottom. Before she even has time to recover, her cloak is completely pulled off by the monster. She winces slightly against the force of the pull but manages to avoid the monster’s claws.
“GAHH!” he shouts, still trying to swat Dorothea as she efficiently avoids him.
She feels hot tears slowly fall as she runs towards her sword that had fallen when she was pulled off her feet. She quickly taps her feet three times.
“YOU CAN’T ESCAPE FROM ME!” he thunders behind her.
She feels the injury before it hits her. She wildly swings her swords and throws it up towards what she hopes is Grendel’s face, as her arm begins burning with pain. She hears a slight thump beside her as her vision slowly fades. She shakes her head. She can’t give up! He’s still alive…
—————
Acacius is woken up by yells and shouts. He rubs his eyes, trying to rid of the last bit of sleep left. As his vision adjusts, he sees Grendel thrashing on the ground with a sword in his right eye.
“GO FOR HIS OTHER EYE!” a soldier shouts, running towards Grendel as he thrashes violently.
“GET HER OUT OF HERE!” shouts another one, ordering three soldiers to grab a young girl who’s lying on the ground by Grendel.
He watches as the girl is picked up. Blood is dripping down her arm the same way her long hair flows down. He turns his view back to the fight with Grendel. Wherever is Beowulf? He’s missing out on such a great fight! A few soldiers begin to taunt Grendel as he swings his large claws, hitting a few soldiers. Acacius’ attention is brought back towards the mysterious girl. She seems to be struggling against the soldiers who are carrying her away from the hall.
“You have to be in his blind spot!” she yells, trying to jump out of their arms.
“Shh,” says one of the soldiers holding her. “You’ve been hurt badly.”
“Listen to me please! It’s important-”
Suddenly Grendel appears close by, slashing at them which causes the soldiers drop her They scream as his claws tear into their flesh. She didn’t seem to remain unscathed either as Grendel sinks a claw into her shoulder holding her up to his eye view. She struggles without end, the pain on her face so evident.
“YOU…!”
Acacius can’t bear to watch as he hears flesh being torn into. That poor girl was just brought into this dilemma for no reason. He silently hopes she finds peace in the afterlife.
There’s a huge thump and it seems like the world stopped breathing. Acacius finally looks up and gapes at the view before him.
The monster is dead.
—————
The pain is unbearable. Her shoulder is on fire and her arm is so, so numb. Grendel’s body’s crushing her. She’s done enough, she believes. She hopes that she will make her mother and father proud. She suddenly hopes that the bartender she met finds peace. Her heartbeat slows as she takes her final breath.
—————
In honour of Dorothea, a young girl, who was disguised as a young man named Beowulf. Even though she deceived Lord Hrothgar willingly, she freed Herot from the monster that has been terrorizing our people for centuries. She deserves the title of the Hero of Herot.