The Viking Way (Beowulf)

[Deleted]

Hiccup hardly ventured back to the school anymore, so when he did, it was usually for something important. Well, if important meant stocking up on fresh supplies and snagging a few sharpened weapons. Of course, Hiccup always tried to slip silently along to attract as little attention to himself as possible. Apparently, being the son of a Viking chief suddenly meant he should be at least 6 feet tall and a master of combat. Once again, he cursed his rotten luck at being born exceptionally smart, but exceptionally weak.

Shaking his head, the young Viking braced himself as he pushed open the doors to the armory. His hunting knife was growing dull, and he could probably use some fresh arrows. Walking with his eyes slightly downcast, he slipped through the crowd of warriors and soldiers, quickly finding his way to the blacksmith. Despite how much he'd hated smithing at home, he could still respect the craft. Hiccup silently set his knife on top of a pile of weapons to be sharpened, then wandered off to wait.

It didn't take him long to find himself standing in front of a weapons rack. Everything on there was nearly his size, for crying out loud. How the hell was anyone supposed to lift these things? He noticed a rather slender sword with an ornate dragon carving on the handle, and he unconsciously reached out to touch it.

"Oi! The bloody 'ell are you doin'?!" a booming voice called out from nearby. Hiccup yanked his hand away, turning as if to leave when someone grabbed him by the back of his shirt and lifted him off the ground. He flailed wildly, but in vain. A giant hulk of a man had him held fast, and from the looks of it, he wasn't letting go anytime soon. "You touchin' my sword?" the man growled, his putrid breath making Hiccup gag.

"Who? Me? Oh, no no no no," Hiccup laughed nervously, clutching his shield and straightening his helmet. "I, uh... just thought it looked a lot like my sword is all."

The man and his posse laughed loudly, and all Hiccup wanted to do was curl up into a ball and disappear. Stupid stupid STUPID! Why did he never thing before opening his mouth?! "YOU carry a sword? I'll believe that when pigs fly," the man howled with laughter, his hold loosening fractionally. Hiccup knew violence was surely the next thing to occur, so he kicked as hard as he could. And surprisingly, his foot hit the man in the nose with a crack, and the man let go, howling and grabbing at his now bloody nose. Hiccup hit the floor hard, but he was used to such treatment, and was scrambling to his feet seconds later, bolting for the door. He was seconds away from freedom when he tripped, sending him sprawling across the floor. Oh, he was doomed now. Those guys would KILL him. "Oh Odin help me..." he muttered

[Deleted]

Beowulf was surrounded by idiots. What was worse was that these idiots not had weapons and were pretending that they were soldiers. Beowulf glowered at them all. Stupid heathens and their absurd ideas about what it means to be a soldier. However, he knew that Tintagel needed all the men (and some women) as it could get, but many didn’t know how to fight. Or at least not well enough to make a difference. The ones that survived each battle were learning and the dead could no longer be helped.

Beowulf could have helped with the training if he hadn’t gone and broken his wrist trying to get back to Sunny. In the end it had all been in vain and Sunny was taken from him anyway. She was taken and he had a broken wrist, rendering him a hindrance more than a help. Not that he cared to help the stupid heathens anyway. They had no idea what they were doing. Hermes was a god and what did he know of human suffering? Beowulf was suspicious of his intentions to keep the city safe and there was no way he, a Viking prince, would take orders from a Greek. He had more pride than that.

The Viking didn’t care what Hermes said. He didn’t care what Hermes ordered. He would get Sunny back. He had sworn to protect her. He was no oath breaker. And should any harm come to Sunny before he could take her safely away, he would find a way to learn the ways of Berserkrs. Wayron’s army would be sent swiftly to meet Hel in the afterlife.

Beowulf brooded while the smithy sharpened his weapons. His axe especially needed to be sharpened. He’d smashed it into enough skulls that it was becoming dull and that just wouldn’t do. He liked to feel his axe slice through the flesh of an arm like butter. He glowered at the others around him and they kept their distance which was preferable at the moment. Beowulf was feeling particularly violent lately.

The skirmish not far from where he was caught his attention. Some kid touching another guy’s weapon. Some kid that by all rights shouldn’t even be in the room. He was scrawny and looked small. Beowulf wasn’t interested in the spectacle until he thought he heard the kid mutter something about Odin, and the prince narrowed his gaze on the kid. Most Vikings he knew weren’t idiots like this kid seemed to be, but a Viking was a Viking. And as a prince of very prestigious Viking lands, he should probably lead by example or something like that.

Begrudgingly Beowulf stalked over to the bigger man, clearly not used to dealing with someone his own size. With his good hand the Viking prince gripped the man’s jacket and jerked him close all the while looking murderously at him. “Don’t leave your weapons lying around,” he growled as menacingly as he could. Then he shoved the man backwards and turned and yanked the boy to his feet. “Don’t start fights you can’t finish,” he growled at the kid, though with far less menace. The Viking idiot needed all the advice he could get.

[Deleted]

Hiccup sat on the floor, just waiting for the pain to start. He knew it was bound to happen. He'd pissed those guys off, and they would surely catch up to him sooner or later. All he could really do was relax and hope the bruising wouldn't be too bad.

Surprisingly, though, the beating never came. Instead, he heard someone growling at the guys. And even more surprisingly, they all backed off. Hiccup felt someone tug him up a moment later, and he found himself face-to-face with a very intimidating teen. He half-expected a lecture, or a punch or two, but all he got was a "Don't start fights you can’t finish".

Blinking in surprise, he replied, "Uh, right." Had he ended it there, he might have gotten away perfectly fine. But his motor-mouth kicked in, and he heard himself saying, "Technically, though, I didn't start the fight. I wasn't even doing anything."

Worming out of the teen's grip, he quickly tried to assess who this guy was. He noticed the way the teen held himself, like he was practically royalty or something. He also had really nice armor, which backed up the whole royalty thing, but it looked like it was Viking-made, which was surprising. There were Vikings from other tribes here? Hiccup quickly tried to remember what his father had said about other Vikings, but he was drawing blanks. Honestly, he'd found the whole subject uninteresting and tuned it out. Scowling a bit, he grumbled under his breath, "I don't need people saving me. Who does that guy even think he is?"

[Deleted]

Beowulf didn’t expect any thanks from the kid, idiot or not, but he definitely didn’t expect the surprise. The Viking frowned at the kid. He wasn’t going to start hitting him because he was an idiot. It didn’t mean he wasn’t going to not hit the kid either, but Beowulf usually left the violence to other people outside of war.

The Viking prince sent a glare at the idiot in question though when he opened his mouth. Apparently he didn’t know when to keep his mouth shut and be grateful he hadn’t just had the life beaten out of him. You didn’t go around touching weapons that belong to other people, even if said people were stupid heathens who left their weapons around. “I don’t care,” he growled at the kid. “If you could control your tongue, then maybe you wouldn’t get into fights with men bigger and stronger than you.”

The idiot was really little more than a petulant child as it turned out, scowling and grumbling. Beowulf only caught the last end and his glare hardened. Who did Beowulf think he was? He was a very important figure. He would tell this child exactly who he was. “I am Beowulf, son of Ecgtheow, prince of the Geats.” He folded his arms over his chest, as if daring this kid to challenge him. “Who are you?”