Beowulf kept no secrets. He was a loyal follower of Higlac after all, and what good was a right-hand man if he stowed away the truth from his king? And so, the warrior couldn't help but wonder what in Odin's beard he was doing as he planted his first steps on the shores of Herot, hiding under the false conception that he and his men arrived to slay the great demon of the Danes. That may be the truth for the 14 warriors under his command, but not for Edgethow's son. Contrary to his king's belief, Beowulf was not eager to slay the monster but to explore with it.
"A letter for you, my good Beowulf." Higlac called, a thin parchment between his fingers.
"A letter for me?" the warrior stated in surprise as he set down his polished helmet. "From whom may I ask?"
"It does not say, however the courier urged that it be transferred to you with proper care, so I assume that it is quite important." the king said.
Beowulf retrieved the envelope from his king's hands, letting out a ponderous hum. "Well, perhaps I should take a look at the contents as soon as possible. I shall head back to my quarters now," the great warrior bowed. "If you would excuse me, Your Majesty."
"Of course, my boy." Higlac said with a soft smile.
Dearest Beowulf,
You do not know me, but I know all about you. You are the great warrior of Geatland, the son of the once great but once hated Edgethow, the loyal follower of Higlac, the man who has won a plentiful bounty of beautiful rings, befitting a beautiful creature as himself. Yes, I know of all your heroic deeds and every last one of your mighty feats. Such glorious accomplishments for someone so young…. You've been a good boy haven't you?
Beowulf felt himself stiffen. What did that mean? Who would dare address him by the mere title of boy?
Indeed, you have been very good, my handsome boy. You do not understand how long I have desired to meet such a glorious child as yourself. It is within my deepest wishes that you receive this letter safely and as swiftly as possible so that we may get to know one another on a more… intimate level. Please do respond under the address of G.M., and I request that you not mention the contents of this message to your king, for you no are longer his follower but mine instead.
I eagerly await your reply.
With love,
Daddy King
An onslaught of emotions raged within Edgethow's son, his rugged hands trembling as he gripped the thin letter. What were these feelings…. Disgust? Anger? Hatred? There was a plethora of emotions coursing through his body, without a doubt, but there was one last emotion that he felt lingering within him. The warrior's face warmed with recognition, traces of a blush emerging on his features, as he attempted to reject that one last feeling.
But it was no use. As Beowulf shifted his gaze down to his lower quarters, he discovered to his dismay an erect teeny weeny.
To whomever dares to tarnish my pride,
From whom did this ridiculous letter come from? I advise you to reveal yourself, or I shall hunt you down to the ends of Geatland myself. You dare command me to abandon my king for someone such as yourself? Ha! Your message was about as worthy as a jester's act.
Never will I replace my king for the likes of you. May that burn into your mind as you write your name in your next letter.
From,
Beowulf
Edgethow's son felt horribly ashamed to admit that despite the tone of his reply, he did not entirely dislike the letter from his anonymous sender. In fact, he found himself desperately waiting for more.
My Dear Child,
I do not jest. I truly do want you, and I do so hope that your love and body will eventually be mine to keep. But for now, I patiently wait for you to come to me and to love me the same way that I love you. Unfortunately, you will not be finding me on Geatland no matter how far you search, for I currently preside in God's beloved Herot.
Disappointment struck the prince's heart. Herot? Geatland and Herot were divided by the sea! How would Beowulf ever be able to meet- no, wait. Why would he care? He wanted to punish the sender, not have a meet and greet with him. He didn't want that. He definitely didn't want that. Despite his body's strange reactions to the letter's first few sentences, Beowulf was desperately convincing himself that he didn't want that.
However far I may be from you, beautiful Beowulf, I think of you with each passing day. My woeful cries reach the wretched Heavens as I imagine your radiant body slamming against mine, the sounds of our love piercing the calm of the night.
With a startled yelp, Beowulf nearly fell out of his chair and onto the cold hard ground (CUE MUSIC). What was that noise? Had he… had he just moaned? The proud warrior felt himself being reduced to a squeamish mess, biting his lip as he attempted to hide his tiny, hardening weeny.
Please think of me the way I think of you. Or rather, think of me as your king. Your daddy.
At that point, Beowulf could no longer control the burning erection between his legs. In one swift moment, the warrior sunk his teeth into his knuckles, muffling a labored groan as his body spasmed uncontrollably.
With all the love you could ever ask for,
Daddy King
A sticky substance trickled down Beowulf's leg.
Dear… Daddy King,
Although I do still hold my suspicions about you, I find myself quite interested in meeting you. However, Herot is quite far from my homeland, thus I am unsure if we can ever have a moment to chat in person….
For now, communication by letter shall hopefully suffice.
Sincerely,
Beowulf
"Another letter for you, my boy." Higlac announced as he approached Geatland's finest warrior.
The prince's eyes glimmered in what seemed to be excitement… as they always seem to whenever Higlac brings a letter for Beowulf.
"Thank you, Your Majesty," the warrior said quickly, hurriedly taking the letter from the king's fingers.
"Who is this person that you have been writing to as of late?" Higlac asked curiously. What could have him writing such a numerous amount of letters to the same person for the past two months? "Have you finally found yourself a sweetheart?"
Beowulf's eyes widened. "No, no nothing of that sort!" But the king found his answer through the hint of roses blooming on his warrior's cheeks.
My beautiful child,
You have consistently asked me again and again what I look like, but despite how pleased I am to see such immense curiosity, I am still not quite sure if you can handle my rather unsightly features. I must warn you again that the people of this land call me a monster. I am a beast shunned by God himself. And although I have repeated this in my previous messages, you still continue to write to me….
Words cannot describe how overjoyed I am that you would continue to find interest in me. And so, I believe it is about time that I show you what I really am. If you do not wish to write me back after this, I will understand. My woeful cries in the night will hold even stronger passions of sorrow, but I will understand. My dong is strong.
