Hey, La Belle here, just so you know this is my first time posting something on . Anyway this is a creative writing assignment I wrote for my english class. This is a oneshot about one of Hrothgar's warriors reflecting on Grendel's attacks on the meadhall and the arrival of Beowulf. I really liked how this turned out so I decided to post it here. Please be nice this is my first story so please review to tell me what you think.
Disclamer: I do NOT own Beowulf in any way shape or form.
Aelfgar's Tale
I could not believe it. The proof was right in front of me but I still couldn't believe it. As I beheld the monster's horrid arm hanging from the ceiling of the glorious hall I thought of how many lives were lost due to Grendel's bloody raids on Herot. Many were my friends, and companions. One in particular was my older brother Ceneric. I remember that cursed day as if it were yesterday. I was only eleven years old. It was the first of Grendel's hellish raids. Ceneric had promised me that he would help me with my swordsmanship. I was so excited, I ran to the mead hall as fast as I could to wake him up I entered the mead hall to find that my brother's cot was surrounded by warriors and servants alike, I pushed my way through and was horrified to find my brother's bloodstained cot. I was horrified. I couldn't bear it. I tried to hold myself together, to stay strong, but it mattered not how hard I tried, for the grief overcame me and I couldn't stop the tears. I remember some of my brother's friends even tried to help, but I would have none of it. For months I was inconsolable, and angry. Why had the monster chosen my brother? Why did he attack Herot? Why was God allowing this to continue? How many more would have to die? Why would no one stop the beast? What had my brother done to deserve such a horrid end to his life? He was one of the most honourable, bravest, kindest, and most loyal warriors I've ever seen. Why did God have to take him from me? I was angry at the world, God and Grendel for allowing this to happen.
A few months after my brother's end I decided that I would dedicate myself to training. I would become a strong and mighty warrior. As I trained with the other warriors I learned much about this demon that has terrorised our people. I learned of his fearsome strength. I knew that no mere warrior stood a chance against him and that to face him would be suicide, but I still prayed and hoped against hope that there would be someone or something who was strong enough to end Grendel's gory raids forever. After years I began to lose hope, I thought we were all doomed to die a bloody death at the hands of a demon who's thirst for blood knew no end and could not be controlled by any means possible.
It was only yesterday that Beowulf and his band of Geats came to our hall, promising that they will rid us of Grendel forever. I was shocked. Were my prayers really being answered? Would they really be able to dispatch Grendel? I didn't dare to hope. I had lost hope that anything could rid Herot of the monster's presence. I remember that night in Herot for I stayed awake, for some foolish reason I wished to see the beast that murdered my brother. I watched the demon come enter the hall. I was paralyzed with fear. I saw him creeping about looking for his next meal. I watched in horror as he ripped up a man and devoured him violently. He crept over to the next bed where Beowulf, the Geat's leader, slept. I watched with baited breath as Beowulf then engaged the monster in single combat without the aid of armour or weapons. I watched them struggle in a match to the death where Beowulf then ripped the beast's arm from the shoulder down and the demon then ran to its lair. I was glad because I knew that our people were now safe from Grendel's terror and the death of my brother and the other warriors who met their grizzly end at Grendel's hands have finally been avenged and now we can live in peace. All these years I prayed, all these years I hoped, I had all but given up, but God sent Beowulf and my prayers were answered. Now we no longer have to be afraid to sleep at night for we know we are safe. Thank you God for sending Beowulf and his brave band of geats to deliver us from this horror of horrors, for the Danes are now safe. I know that the rest of the Danes and I are indebted to Beowulf for what he has done for our people. Hail Beowulf.