Chapter 1: Danish Sister, Monstrous Brother
It was 507 A.D. in Denmark, in the lighted darkness of the new mead hall built by gracious King Hrothgar. A 12 year old Dane by the name of Genevra, an orphaned child who has no history, sat alone in the dark corner of the hall, listening as the others cheered for their kindly King as he gave his speech, naming the new mead hall Herot. She watched as the Danes dove for the golden treasure thrown to them by their King, greedily picking them until they've had their share.
Some of the golden treasure landed around her, but she did not take her share. She wanted no treasure. She wanted no mead. She wanted no company.
All she wanted was to see her poor older brother, who was unfairly banished into the deep moors, only allowed to live amongst the dark, wet caves whom he shared with their mother, who had the power to seduce all men.
She turned her head as a Dane called for mead. She watched, disgusted, as Hrothgar's advisor, Unferth, mercilessly beat a poor slave child for spilling his mead.
She's always hated Unferth, that greedy evil bastard. He always thought of only himself and never of others. She wondered how he became advisor after what he has done.
A loud crash from the hall doors caused the hall to go silent as the wind blew the fire and candles out, plunging the hall in darkness.
The Dane warriors stood, their swords drawn and shields up, ready to defend their people from whatever it was that dared to threaten them.
The silence made Genevra shiver as she stared at the open doors, eyes wide as she suddenly realized what, or who, was outside.
Suddenly, a terrible 12 foot monster jumped into the mead hall, startling the Danes with his monstrous figure. He screamed as the women screamed, lighting the fire pit with a blue fire. He raged around the hall, killing and throwing Danes around on the walls as they tried attacking him.
Genevra stood, watching in awe and horror as the creature did his deed. She knew who this was, and he was taking this too far.
"Storebror!" She cried to the monster in her Danish language.
The monster paused and turned to her, his eyes softening at her voice. Calmly, he approached the small child, kneeling to her height. He brought his gnarled hand up and gently placed it against her face.
"Lillesøster." He whispered.
"Storebror." Genevra sniffed, grabbing the demon's hand and bringing him closer.
A loud war cry from the Dane warriors broke the beautiful moment between Dane and demon. The monster rose to his full height in anger as one of the warriors threw an axe at him. He jumped at the warrior, grabbing his body and ripping him in half. The warriors continued to fight, ignoring the protest of the Dane child.
As the monster swung around, knocking Danes back, his right arm accidentally connected with Genevra, knocking her against the wall.
"AAAAAAAAAA!" She cried in pain as her left arm was cut by the swords beside her.
At the cry of pain given by his friend, the monster calmed to look at the child, trembling with guilt when he saw her hurt.
"Lillesøster!" He cried, trying to approach her.
"Storebror, stay back." Genevra strained. "Stay back."
The demon trembled with guilt, unsure whether he should continue to approach, out do as she says.
"Fight me!" A voice by the thrones challenged.
Genevra and the monster turned their heads to see King Hrothgar, standing bravely with a sword in hand. The monster frowned as he slowly approached the brave king.
"Fight me, damn you." Hrothgar challenged when they were face to face.
The monster trembled with confusion. Unable to handle all that has happened, he cried in retreat, running from the mead hall, back to his lair, the hall turning to dark as he left.
The Danes lit their torches, illuminating the hall with light again. They walked around the hall, observing the damage the monster did.
"What was that thing?" Queen Welthow wondered.
"Grendel." Hrothgar answered.
Genevra stood, cradling her injured arm as she stared out into the moors to which the creature retreated.
It was true.
His name was Grendel… and he was her brother.
….
Deep in the dark cave within the moors, Grendel walked along the water's edge, wondering what it was he would tell his mother.
"Grendel." A female voice echoed through the cave, startling the creature. "What have you done? What have you done."
"Mother?" Grendel gulped as his beautiful mother dropped from the ceiling into the water below.
"Fish and wolf and bear. A sheep or two, but none men." She scolded.
"Men… dead." Grendel protested, holding the dead bodies he escaped with.
"Men, Grendel, they have slain so many of our kind."
"My kind are a chagrin!" Grendel cried. "They did not share the same bond with a Dane. Men harmed me. Harmed me mother. And then, I harmed Genevra! My sweet sister!"
"She will forgive you, darling." His mother promised.
"Do you, really think so?" Grendel asked as he laid by the water.
"Of course, darling." She smiled. "Surely you did not mean to harm her. Was Hrothgar there?"
"Yes," He admitted. "But I harmed him not. I harmed him not, no, no."
"Good, good boy, and tender." She hummed as she rubbed his head with the tail of her hair, lulling him to sleep.
….
"Men, light up another fire. Burn the dead and board up the mead hall." Hrothgar ordered. "And by my order, there should be no singing or merrymaking of any kind. This place reeks of death."
As Hrothgar walked away from his mead hall, Unferth joined him.
"Let it be known that I will share half of the kingdom's gold with anyone that can rid us of this monster." Hrothgar advised his advisor.
"My lord, the locals sacrifice goats and sheep to Oden." Unferth explained. "With your permission, shall we also pray to the new Roman god, Christ Jesus? Perhaps, he will be able to lift our curse."
"Hmm, no." The king shook his head. "No, the gods will not do what we will not do ourselves. What we need is a hero."
As they walked, they noticed Genevra, with her arm newly bandaged and healing slowly. She was looking out into the moors, towards Grendel's lair.
"The monster did not harm you the same way he harmed our men, young one." Hrothgar approached her, startling her.
"Yes," Unferth nodded. "In fact, he seemed to love you more than hate you."
"Love me, Unferth?" Genevra frowned. "My lord, you must still be drunk and paralyzed. There is no way the demon could've shown me love."
"Perhaps, you are right." Hrothgar nodded. "It is just simply ridiculous."
As Hrothgar and Unferth walked away, Genevra looked back up to the moors, sighing in sadness.
"Brother."