A/N: So this is the first original episode of two that I will be writing this season. Also, I just started a new job and school, so updates are going to be slowing down some as I adjust and figure out how much time I actually have to write. So be patient with me!
Viking Lore
John looked at the forest surrounding him and the Wolf. "Okay, I give up," he admitted. "Completely clueless. I think it could be Earth, but where are we? And when?" he asked.
"Good guess on the planet Johnny," the Wolf congratulated. "We are, in fact, on Earth. And wait just a – tic," she wet her finger and stuck it in the air. "Late ninth century, 872, to be exact, Scandinavia, what will someday become Norway. For this region, it's a balmy twenty-four degrees Celsius," she paused, "chance of rain later."
"Eight seventy-two, huh?" John asked. "That's the farthest back we've been yet. Brilliant. What are we doing here? Did you get an alarm while I was eating?"
"Nope! I've always been curious about the Vikings!" the Wolf said excitedly. "They're a bit too bloodthirsty for my taste, usually, but I wanted to take a look. Their culture is fascinating. Last time I was around, I was too busy dealing with the last haemovore in existence to really get the tour, and that was a while back."
"Haemovore, Wolf?" John asked for clarification.
"Oh, right! Sorry. Haemovores, they evolved from humans around the year five hundred thousand. I suppose you could call them vampires, of a sort. They did feed on the blood of humans, although they could survive in sea water as well. Same salt content, you see. Telepathic communication, slimy, killed by a stake through the heart, the whole nine yards," the Wolf explained, in full lecture mode. "I was here with Ace in my seventh body roughly, oh, two hundred years ago? But we were here around nine-fifty, so you and I should be alright."
"That stake through the heart thing is real?" John asked, fascinated.
"Oh, sure. Where do you think Bram Stoker got the idea for Dracula? Haemovore fed off a girl at Maiden's Point. The rest, as they say, is history."
"Huh. Okay, so – Vikings. Which way to the Vikings?"
East.
"East is probably our best bet. Come along, Johnny boy."
The Wolf set off through the forest, John following quickly, admiring the plant life around him. He was seeing things from over a thousand years in the past. Life no one had seen in centuries. "Hey, Wolf?"
"Hmm?"
"Do you think any of these trees are still around in my time?" he asked. He'd read about the sequoia tree in the western United States that was supposed to be thousands of years old.
"Eh, it's possible, but a huge wildfire rips through here in the fifteen hundreds. Practically the whole forest burnt down. If any of these trees were still here then, it's unlikely they survived that," the Wolf replied.
"Pity. Some of them are truly remarkable." They fell into an easy silence after that, just enjoying the scenery and the company.
Not twenty minutes later, a blast of sound carried through the air, conveying a sense of urgency. "What was that?" John wondered.
"Sounded like some kind of a horn. Only half a mile away," the Wolf answered.
John sighed. "Your next words are going to be 'Let's go and check it out', aren't they?" He was trying to look annoyed but was failing miserably as excitement glinted in his eyes.
The Wolf grinned. "Actually, I was going to say, "Better go back to the TARDIS', but, if you insist." She shrugged and turned to head toward where the sound had come from.
John stayed put. "Wait, what?" He was utterly confused.
The Wolf looked back at him over her shoulder. "Come on, you oaf," she called, rolling her eyes. "Of course I was going to say 'Let's go and check it out'. Who do you take me for? Come on!" she urged again.
John grinned. "Right behind you." The two of them ran the last half mile through the woods, eventually coming upon what John recognized as a longhouse from descriptions he'd read in books on the time period. In front of the building, a group of warriors battled what appeared to be two slimy-looking, bald creatures. The warriors were barely holding their own as the creatures split up and attacked separately. One of them leaped on a man, tearing into his neck and making him scream.
The Wolf whirled around and pushed John behind a large tree. He protested. "There has to be something we can do," he said quietly, mindful to not draw attention to themselves.
The Wolf shook her head. "You remember what I said about the last haemovore in existence?" she asked.
"Yeah."
"Seems I was wrong."
John looked down at her. "Really? Vampires?" he complained with just a touch of whining in his tone.
"Vampires," the Wolf confirmed. "And from the looks of it, that house doesn't stand a chance."
"How did you deal with them before?" John asked in a whisper, watching as each of the haemovores took down another soldier.
The Wolf shrugged. "I didn't really. There was an ancient being that controlled them and could kill them with a thought, and some of the more sturdy humans could manage to stake them through the heart, but it doesn't look like either of those are going to occur today."
John's reply was interrupted by the sound of another horn blowing. He looked across the clearing to see a company of soldiers being led by a warrior armored in leather but wearing a steel helmet. The mysterious warrior directed his troops to surround one of the haemovores, while he took on the other one by himself.
The influx of new fighters bolstered the energy of the nearly overwhelmed house soldiers, and working together, they were able to beat the two vampiric creatures into a retreat, though they were unable to slay either one. When the creatures turned and ran, the soldiers let out roars of triumph.
"Beowulf!" one cried, and the others took up the call. "Beowulf! Beowulf!"
John looked down at the Wolf, who looked somewhat surprised. "Beowulf and vampires? We just walked into a story," John said drily.
"So it would seem," the Wolf muttered, eyebrows raised.
"Over there!" a rough voice suddenly shouts, pointing at the two travelers.
"Uh oh," the Wolf mumbled, stepping out before she and John were skewered by the overeager warriors wielding swords. "Easy, easy. We mean you no harm," she said calmly, motioning for John to join her.
John came out with his hands in the air. "We're still doing this too much," he whispered in her ear. The corners of the Wolf's mouth tilted up, but she contained her smile.
"What is your father's name? Why do you come here?" the leader, the one they called Beowulf, demanded.
The Wolf hesitated. "I can offer expertise on the ways of those monsters," she finally claimed. "I know their habits. I can be of assistance."
"And him?" the warrior asked harshly. "What use is he? He has no muscle." John tried not to show offense at the insult to his manly muscles, but his eyes narrowed.
"He is my medicine man. Where I go, he goes," the Wolf said firmly. John figured he should stop being surprised when the Wolf was able to effortlessly fit into any situation she found herself in. The
woman was a chameleon.
The still helmet-clad Beowulf paused, thinking. "A spirit walker is always welcome," he eventually decided. "I too, know of the Night-seekers, but more knowledge is never turned away. You both may stay." He waved for them to follow him. "Come, we will speak privately."
Beowulf led the both of them into the longhouse, taking them to the back. He held open the curtain that enclosed a small bedroom. "My private quarters," he explained. "We may talk here." He waited until John and the Wolf were seated before speaking again. "Now, say what you know of these Night-seekers."
"None of the wounds they received today were life-threatening," the Wolf told him.
"This, I know already," Beowulf said. "I also know that those creatures take their sleep in a cave not ten miles away in the direction the sun rises. I wish you to tell me what I do not know."
"Have any of your men been bitten by the Night-seekers and survived?" the Wolf asked.
Beowulf shook his head. "All those whose blood has been tainted by the creatures are slain," he said plainly. John started at the cruelty of his sentence. Beowulf looked at him. "They beg for it. They do not wish to become Night-seekers as well. There are tales that Grendel was once human, until he was bitten by the creature he now follows – his 'mother', the one who turned him. None wish for that fate."
"Yes, I was afraid of that," the Wolf murmured.
"But now, you tell me how a woman such as yourself claims to know about these beasts," Beowulf commanded. "It is not the way things are done here."
The Wolf straightened. "One does not need to be a man to know of one's enemies," she replied haughtily. "And to act accordingly."
The warrior laughed. "Well said, woman," he complimented, finally reaching to pull off his helmet. John stared as the man's face was revealed and it became obvious that Beowulf was, in fact, a woman. She gave him a hard smile. "You are surprised," she said. "Do you not agree that a woman's place is by the fire? Your woman here carries herself as a warrior as well."
John shook his head hastily, trying to placate the warrior woman. "No, by all means. Hack away. It was just – unexpected," he admitted. "And she's not my woman," he added. The Wolf nodded in agreement.
"My brother and I were inseparable as children. To teach one the sword was to teach the other," Beowulf explained. "My father was strange in that he allowed it, and when they both died fighting the Night-seekers three years ago, I took up their mantle as leader of this house. My men follow me, and keep my secret from all who pass through. But you," she said, pointing at the Wolf, "you have secrets as well. Unknowns, whispering in the dark. Tell me, what are you called?"
The Wolf had taken Beowulf's big reveal in stride. "I am the Wolf," she introduced herself. "And this is John." John nodded respectfully.
Beowulf appraised them both before seeming to make a decision. "I have already entrusted you with my deepest secret. One more cannot hurt. I am called Bea. I needed a strong name, a warrior's name, to be taken seriously on the battlefield, and so I assumed the name of the bear. You have claimed the wolf, another respected hunter. It is an honor, Wolf." Bea held out her hand, which the Wolf grasped tightly by the forearm.
"You have our gratitude for this hospitality," the Wolf finished the greeting.
Introductions then completed, Bea turned to John. "Are you still a spirit walker?" she asked.
"I deal in medicines, yes," John hurried to confirm.
"Then would you be kind enough to see to my soldiers? Many of them have been wounded in recent battles, and our house's spirit walker went to Helgafjell some moons past," Bea requested.
"Of course, yes. I'd be happy to," John agreed, making a mental note to ask the Wolf what Helgafjell was later. But now, he left the Wolf with Bea to talk alone. He had patients to see.
"I need boiling water," John told one of the women that was tending the fire as he left Beowulf's – or Bea's – private quarters.
"My lord?" the woman inquired, uncertain.
"Your master, er – mistress – has requested that I attend your wounded. I will require boiling water and clean cloth for bandages," John elaborated. "And it's not Lord. Just John."
The woman, who John later learned was named Sigrid, nodded and motioned for a couple of other women to assist her. While he was waiting, John inspected the injured men lying on benches on the periphery of the longhouse, determining which were the worst hurt.
Half an hour later, John had sterilized bandages with which to treat his patients. There was one man, Harald, that he could not do much for but make him comfortable. Harald was too badly injured, and was unlikely to recover with the primitive materials John had on hand. John wished that he could have some of the materials that the TARDIS had to offer, but understood that he couldn't interfere in the past with space products from the future. That could cause him and the Wolf all sorts of problems.
Despite his disappointment at being unable to treat Harald, John tended his other patients with a certain sense of satisfaction and content. He had missed his hospital the most throughout his travels, and was pleased to be practicing some form of medicine again.
A/N: Yeeeaah, I just did that. Also, Bea is pronounced Bay-uh. And according to a quick Google search, Beowulf's Nordic translation comes out as bee wolf, which for some reason, means bear. I don't know why that is, but it worked for my narration quite well.
And Helgafjell is one of the afterlives the Vikings believed in. As far as I can tell it was the one for those who didn't go to Hel for punishment, but also didn't die in battle, so no Valhalla.
