A bit of Weasley Legend. You might see this as a prequel to The Ancient and Most Noble House of Weasley, set from Septimus' sorting up to the first books, a story for which I've been writing a sequel these past months. It's not finished yet, but then, hemhem... :) I've finished none of my multi-chap stories. Anyway, enjoy and please review!
Agnar the Weasel 7th century, a Legend
King Eystein was the ruler of a strong and prosperous land. As a just ruler, he was good to his people, just and strong. Famed amongst his knights and feared by his enemies, he was victorious in every battle he engaged.
When his eldest son Agnar was born, he was very proud of the new-born, and asked the Prophetess Valva for her blessing. She promised great power to the little Agnar, if the King celebrated his birth with a feast, for every man, woman and child under his rule, seven weeks of seven days long.
"So it will be," said the king, happy to comply Valva's request, and for seven weeks of seven days, his people sang, danced and feasted in honour of the prince.
However, as years passed by, power seemed to be denied for young Agnar. Instead, he grew to be puny and weak, his chest too small to bear his father's coat, andhis arms too thin to lift his father's sword. He was a sweet child and very bright, but how could he ever be king, his father wondered, if he could not defend his people?
Eystein believed Valva had decieved him, and that she had cursed the boy instead of blessing him. He was enraged, and ordered Valva to be executed, but she already had fled his land, over the deep, dark waters of the unruled seas.
The saddened king had a second son, who he called Dómmar and of whom he hoped he would grow large and strong, so his land would continue to strive. For seven weeks of seven days after Dómmar was born, Eystein forbade any song or frivolity in his realm, and threatened anyone who would celebrate the birth with punishment of death.
Dómmar indeed became an impressive warrior. By the time old Eystein died a peace-ful death, the younger prince had defeated every knight who had served under his father and was even larger and stronger than the fearsome king. The people bowed down for his imposing sight, and foreign armies trying to invade shuddered at his appereance. Many believed Dómmar to be the true ruler, only the title didn't come to him.
The brothers argued over the crown, as did the knights, and even the commoners on the land. No one could decide who was Eystein's rightful heir, but time was short and the need was dire. War loomed over the kingdom like a dark, ominious shroud, and the land demanded a leader quick.
"If Dómmar is so great and strong, why don't we settle this matter for once and for all?" Agnar spoke scornfully, not convinced of his brother's claim, "A duel, between us two, the winner shall rule these lands forever, the other shall admit his wrong. Then the one who is most powerful, shall be the only king."
Dómmar agreed, laughing in Agnar's face. There was no way in which his scrawny brother would defeat one so great as him. Hadn't all warriors backed away, shrunk at his gaze?
"You have doomed yourself, brother mine. No one will defeat me, least of all in an honest fight!"
"You are forgetting, Dómmar, it's me who Valva blessed." Agnar said. "She gave me great power, greater than that of your shield and sword. I am Eystein's first born son, and the only rightful king, and the only king fates will allow."
"It was no blessing, it was a curse, father told us many times. And I see no power, no power that gives you right to be king. You can't even lift his sword!" And Dómmar unsheated his father's mighty sword, holding it high in the air. The sun shone brightly in its steel.
But Agnar was not dettered, and claimed even the mightest sword held no power over him. This angered Dómmar, who pointed it at his own blood. "How dare you speak so lowly over your father's arms! You are a traitor and a fool for denying its glory!"
"If that sword of yours is so glorious, why don't you put it to a test?" Agnar spoke, a daring glimmer in his eye. "Let the fates decide our future, let the fates decide who falls today!"
Dómmar growled as a bear, deep and low, and charged at his brother with the ferocity of a thousand wolves. He slashed his sword down at his brother, who made no move to defend himself. But, instead of broken bones and splattered blood, its was as if the hand of fate itself came in. Eystein's sword would not touch his eldest son, and the blade flinged wildly out of Dómmars hand, flying out of his reach. The people were shocked, and gasped when the sword landed on the ground.
"No sword will ever touch me, like no man will rule the gods! I might not have a broad chest like you, thick arms and a magnificent sword. But I don't need them, for I am blessed with a far greater power, the power of wisdom, and sorcery! I am the first child of Eystein, and the one destined to be king! Your rule will be cursed if you ever try to defy me again, brother, like your sword that will shatter since you tried to kill your brother and this land's only king with it!" And at these words, Eystein's sword quivered and shone white with a singing heat, before the steel spat in a thousand little pieces piercing through the air and the trees.
For the first time of his life, Dómmar was defeated, and by his weak, scrawney brother no less. He should have accepted it, he should have admitted his loss, but his heart was wrenched with jealousy and pride. He would never step aside, even if he had lost in battle!
"You are a Weasel, who is weaseling his way to the throne." Dómmar accused vengefully, gaining the ear of many in the crowd. "You displayed this sorcery, which I admit, is a clever trick. But listen, my friends and followers, this is no proof of worthiness! This is not how a true king fights! This is the work of a devil, a demon, a wicked and vile creature that is the enemy of men! Don't you see? This is the work of Valva, who my father rightfully banned from this land! Agnar was not blessed with her sorcery, as he wants you to believe, he carries her power in his bastard blood! He is a wretched Weasel, a wicked wizard, a lying bastard who is trying to decieve you all! He has no claim on the throne, because he is Valva's son!"
The kingdom believed Dómmar, and the rumour spread wide and fast. Agnar was shunned by his own people, seen as a bastard and a traitor, so he fled the kingdom like Valva did, over the deep, dark waters of the unruled seas. He took his wife and children with him as company, and once he'd landed in some unknown land, he made his own name, taking the name Weasel as a title of honour. He built a strong, sturdy tower he called the Den and lived there life peace-fully, never looking back at the people and the brother who betrayed him.
Dómmar was less lucky. Once he ascended the throne, his kingdom was taken from underneath him by an overwhelming enemy, just like Agnar had predicted. He had become a king without kingdom, and wanted to make amends with his brother, as he saw all this sorrow was caused by his own devious ruse. He took the few men he had left, he gathered the pieces of his broken sword to give as a offer of submission and a symbol of his mistakes, and took off to the deep, dark waters of the unruled sea, following his brother.
Dómmar found many riches on his travels, explored many coasts and bays and plundered many foreign lands. He became ruler of the unruled seas, and would much later become known as the first Viking King, but never in his living days, he found the Weasel's Den.