The Time of Heroes Ch 3 Songs and Tales, a how to train your dragon fanfic

Ch. 3 Tales and Songs

Wiglaf did as he was told and went after the boy, Hiccup, to get acquainted with him, even though in all honesty, he didn't think much of him. The only thing that was interesting was his ability to tame dragons, but experience had taught him that you shouldn't judge anything on looks alone, so he would just have to wait and see if there was more to this boy.

Before he could go any further he heard a voice call his name. He turned and a saw a boy with bright-yellow hair. "Oliver," he called back. Wiglaf set his pack on the ground then the two young men came together and embraced. "How are you? Didn't get sick, did you?" "No," Oliver answered, with a smile and a shake of his head. "Not this time." "Well that's good," Wiglaf said.

"Wiglaf," someone else called to him. It was Jason. "Jason," Wiglaf answered back, releasing Oliver and clasping hands with Jason. "Feels so good to be on dry land again," Jason said. "The only one who's happier about that is probably Quintus." "You could say that again," Viriathus said. The three boys turned and saw Quintus and Viriathus coming up from the docks. "Little brother, here, was about to drown in sweat. No pun intended." There were a few chuckles among the group.

Viriathus and Quintus were the closest of the group (next to Wiglaf and Heather that is), despite who there fathers are. "You underestimate him, I think," Tarabai said, wrapping her arms around Quintus' shoulders in a comforting matter. "He's much stronger than you give him credit for." "I don't doubt that," Viriathus said. "I just like giving my baby brother a hard time."

"Thanks a lot," Quintus said, rolling his eyes. "What would I ever do with out you guys?" "Be better off?" asked the last of the group to arrive. "Heather," Wiglaf said with a smile. He went over to her, pulled her into an embrace and placed a kiss on her cheek. They stood their for a moment, reveling in each others presence before Wiglaf spoke again, "I spoke to Hiccup about you." He felt her tense, to which he responded by holding her tighter.

"What reasons you had," Wiglaf said. "I'm sure they were noble. But I suspect my assumptions lack the truth of your words, so I ask you: why did you not tell me?" Heather pulled away and looked up into Wiglaf's eyes and said, "These are good people, Wiglaf. They saved me and my family, and I wanted to spare them the coming fire." Wiglaf nodded, "That's all I needed." He held her tight again until a voice said, "The way I remember it," they turned and saw Astrid. "You saved us."

"Astrid!" Heather called. She left Wiglaf's embrace and went over to the young dragon rider. The two embraced then Heather took Astrid's hand and lead her to back to the group. "Astrid," Heather said. "These are my friends." "Everyone," she said, addressing her friends. "This is Astrid Hofferson. She helped me get my parents back." She pointed towards Oliver and said, "That's Oliver, son of Roland, leader of the Paladins and Lord Beowulf's war-captain." Astrid gave a small wave to Oliver, who sheepishly waved back, a small but noticeable blush tinging his cheeks. "He's a bit shy," Heather whispered to Astrid. Astrid smiled and nodded as Heather continued.

"That's Jason," Heather said, pointing to the young Marathoner. "Son of Iolaus, chief among the Marathoners." Jason gave a curt nod. Jason was one of the few who liked to talk but knew when to keep his mouth shut and this was one these times. Friendly relationships between native inhabitants was key to keeping the army alive. "That's Viriathus of the Celts and Cicero of the Centurions." The two waved at Astrid and she noticed that the older boy's hand never left the younger boy's shoulder. "Thick as thieves, they are," Heather declared. "Don't let that fool you," Viriathus said, with a sly smile. "We're actually not that thick."

Astrid smiled at Viriathus' lame joke, she'd take his comedy over Snoutlout's flirting any day. "That's Tarabai of the Rajput," Heather said, introducing the only other female in the group. Like Jason, she gave a short nod to Astrid. "And this," Heather said, finally getting to the one that mattered most to her. "Is Wiglaf, son of Beowulf." "I figured as much," Astrid said. "You have the look of your father." "My father claims I take after my mother," Wiglaf said. "Is that true?" Astrid asked him. Wiglaf shrugged and said, "I wouldn't know." Astrid raised an eyebrow in confusion.

"Wiglaf's mother died when he was young," Heather whispered to Astrid. "He doesn't even know what she looks like." Astrid turned to Wiglaf, a sad look in her eyes. "Not even an etching?" she asked. "No," Wiglaf said, shaking his head. He went to his pack and set it back on his shoulder. "So where is the chieftain's son?" Wiglaf asked. "He and our friends went on ahead," Astrid answered. "I stayed behind when I spied Heather."

"I guess we should go to the Great Hall then," Oliver said. Wiglaf nodded and began the trek up the hill towards the hall, the others following while Heather and Astrid brought up the rear to talk more. "So," Astrid asked. "Are you and Wiglaf-" "Together?" Heather finished. "Yes. We've known each other since we were young. Our fathers met on the battlefield." "You're father fought Beowulf?" Astrid asked. "Not directly," Heather said.

"This was not battle, Unferth," Beowulf said sadly, surveying the remains of what had been the Frisian raiding party from atop his horse. "This was a slaughter." A Frisian war-band had landed on the shores of Geatland. There had been a sizable force but they were no match for the battle hardened Geats. The battle had ended quickly and Beowulf had barely enough time to draw his blade before it was even over. Bodies littered the shoreline and the gulls had already begun their feast, even as a cold air began to set in.

Like them, Beowulf paid no heed to the cold but not for the same reasons. The great chief of the Waegmundings had been in melancholy for weeks now and even the threat of invasion couldn't change his spirits. Now Beowulf and his entourage were heading to oversee some Frisian prisoners and decide their fate."The Frisians wish to have the bards sing of their heroic deeds," Unferth said somewhat sarcastically, riding beside his chieftain.

"It will be short song then," Beowulf remarked. "Can you blame them?" Unferth asked. "Your legend is known from every corner of the known world; you are the Dragon Slayer." "I would trade every title I have," Beowulf said."For the one I have lost." "There is nothing to be had here, Unferth," Beowulf continued solemnly. "Nothing but fear, death, and sadness."

They continued on until they heard someone shout in the distance, "SHOW ME TO BEOWULF! SHOW ME TO THE DRAGON SLAYER!" They came upon a group of warriors who had taken a Frisian from the main group of prisoners not far off and were harassing him with kicks and jabs from the butts of their weapons. "Let him be!" cried Beowulf riding towards the men. "You think you are right mocking an opponent in this fashion?" he asked. "Put him back with the others and leave his dignity intact." As he began to ride away, he heard the Frisian call to him, "Coward!" Beowulf stopped but did not turn back to face him. "Kill me yourself!"

"Raider scum," Unferth said. "The lord Beowulf offers you his mercy and this is how you repay him?" Unferth then commanded, "Kill the invader. Put his head on spear. Do it now!" "Stop!" Beowulf cried, before any more harm could befall the prisoner. Beowulf moved his horse to face the Frisian once again, then he swung his leg over to one side and stepped onto the sandy beach. He then removed his cape as Unferth spoke, "My lord, there is no reason for you to get involved here." Beowulf placed his cape on his saddle before waving off Unferth's words. "Let him up," he commanded the thanes. They did as their lord commanded and stood to the side, allowing the prisoner to rise to his knees. "So," Beowulf said, addressing the Frisian. "You wish to have your name in the saga of Beowulf?" He took a step to the Frisian and continued, "You think it should end here with me killed by some no-named Frisian raider?" The prisoner rose to full height with as much pride as he could muster, which was enough to impress Beowulf. "I'm Finn of Frisia," he announced in a clear voice. "And my name shall live on for all times."

"So it is immortality that you seek," Beowulf said, drawing Hrunting from its scabbard. Finn bent down and retrieved a discarded broadsword. "Because without it, you're nothing." He then threw Hrunting to the ground, where it embedded itself in the sand near Finn's feet. "You believe yourself to be the first to try and kill me or the hundredth?" Beowulf asked, as he began to remove his wolf adorned breastplate and advance towards Finn. "Well let me tell you something, Frisian: This is a cruel world in which we live in. I too had a dream, a dream of a wife, of sons, and daughters, and grandchildren, and of watching them grow tall and strong. But now that dream is all but dust." As he finished, he cast aside his mail-shirt, leaving him just in a light-gray tunic, dark trousers, and boots. "Drive your blade here, Finn of Frisia," he said, indicating to his chest. "Take my life and rob another son of his father."

Finn didn't know what to make of this. He wanted to face Beowulf in combat himself. Either he would strike Beowulf down or Beowulf would strike him down, no matter the outcome he would achieve glory. But there would be no glory to kill him like this, this would just be pure murder. "Someone," Finn cried, raising his sword in defense. "Give him a sword or I'll..."

"You'll what!?" Beowulf asked. "Kill me? Then kill me! Do it! Kill me! KILL ME!" Finn couldn't do it, he may be a lot of things but a murderer is not one of them. Instead he let the sword fall to the ground and his knees soon followed. He hung his head low and awaited what fate would be delivered to him. Beowulf drew Hrunting from its place and placed the blade under Finn's chin.

He tilted his head upward so the Frisian could look him in the eye and said, "You see my friend, you can't kill me. Because, in away, I died when she was taken from me." Beowulf then turned, sheathed Hrunting, and addressed his warriors, "Gather his men up and give them each a gold piece, then send them home. They have a story to tell."

"My father was among the war-party," Heather said, finishing her story. "After that the Frisians and the Geats would meet to celebrate the peace that was forged that day and Wiglaf and I met at one of these events. At first I was very shy around him but he was very friendly and I warmed up to him. We spent as much time together as we could and eventually we decided that we wanted to be more than friends. Our fathers championed the match." "So how long have you two been together?" Astrid asked. "A short time now," Heather answered. "But like I said we've been friends since we were little."

"I see," nodded Astrid. They walked in silence for a few moments before Astrid's curiosity got the better of her. "So," she started. "Are there any plans for the future?" Heather stopped in her tracks, a look of deep thought on her face. "You speak of marriage," Heather said. Astrid stopped and turned Heather. Heather went silent again and before Astrid could say anything, Heather spoke again. "Yes," she said. "The thought has crossed my mind many times and I always put it off thinking that time would tell me. But now, I would say yes, I wish to marry Wiglaf one day."

She smiled and turned when Astrid spoke. "Children with red hair and green eyes," she said. "Doesn't sound so bad doesn't?" Heather smiled and shook her head, "No. It doesn't." They continued onwards until Heather spoke again. "I just thought of something," she said. "What am I going to tell Snoutlout?" Astrid chuckled and was soon followed by Heather. "I'll have to let him down easy," she said. "Do you have to?" Astrid asked, still laughing.

"A fine a hall, Stoick," Beowulf said, viewing the Great Hall. "A grand time we shall have here." "This hall has seen many triumphs and failures," Stoick said. "But no matter the occasion, it lifts our spirits high." "My lord," Unferth called. "The thanes wish to know where to set up your quarters." Before Beowulf could answer, Stoick spoke. "Put it beside the house closest to the hall. My house." Unferth looked at his lord, who nodded in agreement. "It shall be done." Unferth bowed and went back to directing the thanes.

"So beside your house?" Beowulf asked, crossing his arms. "Do you have somewhere else in mind?" Stoick asked. "No," Beowulf said, shaking his head. "That was where I wanted to set up." The two chuckled, until Beowulf felt a tug on his cape. He looked down and saw one of the young Hooligan children, the corner of his cape still in the grasp of his tiny fist. He had straw-like yellow hair, great, big brown eyes, and a gap between his front two teeth.

"Yes?" Beowulf asked, as he knelt before the child. "I'm Nori and my dad says you fight dragons," he said. "That's right," Beowulf said. "You're not going to hurt our dragons are you?" he asked. "No," Beowulf whispered, shaking his head with a smile. "As long they don't hurt my friends." "They won't," a voice said coming from the doors. Beowulf looked up from the child and saw young Hiccup, other children of Berk, and... "By God," Beowulf whispered. Beside Hiccup was the Dark Seeker that he had named Toothless, unchained and free to roam about. Beowulf stood and made his way to the entrance of the hall, somewhat oblivious of the child still clutching his cape. He came to a stop in front of the pair, a look of disbelief on his face.

"He looks just like Grendel," he said, marveling at the resemblance of his greatest foe and the dragon standing before him. "All he lacks is the blue eyes, the whiskers, and the scar," Beowulf declared, kneeling before the dragon. He stretched fourth his hand toward the dragon's snout, Toothless snarled at first and Beowulf recoiled a bit. But then to many in the hall's great surprise, Toothless responded in kind and placed his snout in Beowulf's hand. "He likes you," Hiccup said, just as surprised as the rest of the vikings standing around. Hiccup thought the last person Toothless would take a liking to would be Beowulf. But unknown to all, save Toothless, there was a scent on this man, something that smelled so familiar...

"Scar?" Nori asked. Beowulf turned back to the small child. "When I fought Grendel," Beowulf said. "It was mostly with my bare hands but-" "You actually fought a Night Furry with your bare hands?" Hiccup couldn't help but interrupt. He had seen many vikings fight dragons barehanded, even his own father. But the idea of fighting a Night Furry weaponless seemed insane. "To lure Grendel into a false sense of security," Beowulf continued. "We posted our armor and weapons at the entrance of our great hall. I first grappled with him with my hands as my only weapon but to deliver the killing blow I drew a dagger from my belt." "But he slipped from my grasp and only grazed his snout and leaving a scar over his eye," he finished, dragging his finger over his left eye for emphasis.

"But you killed Grendel," said Nori, finally releasing Beowulf's cape. "Not in the hall," Beowulf said, shaking his head. He then stood, turned, and began to walk away as a crowd began to form around him. "I tracked Grendel to the great gorge near the old fortress of Earnaness," he said, coming to the center of the hall. He turned to face the crowd, then sat down at on top of one of the tables. "There, I hunted for three days, until..."

There he stood, in a great opening in the gorge was the grave of many men and beast. Ancient piles of bones rose high into the sky like pillars and Beowulf had to wonder if his father's bones were among these. He did not have long to dwell on this thought before a black shape swooped down not far in front of him. The Dark Seeker, Grendel, still bearing the scar of their of their previous battle. He had chased this demon for three days and nights now, coming close to battle but he kept fleeing and firing shots at him as a warning to leave him in peace. But there would be no peace between them until one of them lay dead.

"Hail, Demon!" Beowulf called. The dragon's eyes narrowed into slits, blue fire burning with rage. "I am Beowulf, defender of the Waegmundings and before this day is done, one of us will lay dead, his bones left to join the others. But either way, it ends today." He then drew his new war-friend, Hrunting. Its long blade gleaming in the early morning sun, its crucible steel felt light in his hands. He took the hilt in both hands and got ready to charge as Grendel did the same.

They stood there for a moment, measuring each others strength, then at some unheard command, they charged. Beowulf let loose a mighty war cry, while Grendel roared in response. When they came close enough for an attack, Beowulf attempted an over head strike, trying to, at best, cleave the beast's skull in two or at least hack off a limb. Grendel acted quickly and leaped over the Geat's head, the blade missing him entirely. He then sent a rush of air from his wings, hoping to knock the warrior off his feet.

Instead, Beowulf went into a crouching position, shielding his eyes from the wind. Grendel then turned in mid-air and landed to face Beowulf once more. The Geat then rose to his full height, Hrunting at the ready. Grendel then reared his head back, preparing his fire. Beowulf immediately took notice of this and took flight, running to his right as the dragon let loose a bolt of fire.

'That's one,' Beowulf thought to himself. Long had he battled Grendel, so much that he knew how many bolts he had in his fire-quiver. 'Five more and he's done.' Grendel let loose two more bolts before he decided to give chase. Although a man of great speed, he could not outrun this demon. Grendel leaped in front of Beowulf, causing him to halt in tracks. He readied Hrunting again and that's when he noticed his position; he was caught between two large mounds of bones and he could not scramble up any of the hills fast enough to avoid one of Grendel's shots. As Grendel readied to fire again, Beowulf decided on the only recourse available to him.

He cast aside Hrunting and charged the beast. Grendel was caught off guard by this action; why would his opponent throw away his weapon? Beowulf then leaped into the air and tackled Grendel, knocking him over, with Beowulf on top of him. He then delivered a few good punches to the dragon's chest before he was batted away by one of Grendel's hind legs. Beowulf tumbled for a few feet and when he came to a stop, he was in a kneeling position, the coppery taste of blood entered his mouth and he felt something hard against his knee. He looked down and saw the discarded sword Hrunting, then he noticed Grendel back on his feet. Both were exhausted but one had the advantage of range.

As Grendel readied the killing blow, Beowulf spat crimson and took his chance. He grabbed Hrunting and with all his strength, sent the blade sailing through the air. It flew true and embedded itself in a pillar of bone, causing the unstable structure to collapse on top of Grendel just as his shot veered off course. The pillar was heavy enough to pin Grendel to the ground but not enough to kill him. Beowulf stood up, retrieved Hrunting, then moved towards Grendel, very cautiously.

When he deemed him no longer a threat, he kicked off some debris, exposing the be beast's back. In his peripheral vision, he could see Grendel's blue eyes looking up at him. They still held the fire they had before but it was greatly diminished. "Your time has come," Beowulf whispered. "Face it with honor." Grendel hummed something as if in acknowledgment. He then raised the sword high above his head and with a deep breath...

"I plunged my blade into his heart and left his body there to rot," said Beowulf concluding his sat there in silence for a moment, as if in deep thought. He looked into the faces of the crowd, no one dared say a word. He smiled then and said, "But let us banish dark times and instead remember the joy full ones." He then stood up and took a cup of mead from the table. He raised into the air and said, "To new friends." The Hooligans raised their cups in response and they all took a drink, taking Beowulf's words to heart.

Hiccup watched as his the members of his tribe began to socialize with Beowulf's soldiers. They began to exchanged stories and tales while the one known as Vainamoinen sat in a corner off of the chieftain's table filled the hall with music from his kantele. Sounding like the mix between a harp and mandolin, Hiccup found himself entranced by not only the wonderful music that was produced but by the way Vainamoinen's fingers seemed to dance across the instrument. He felt that he could stand there for hours just watching him play and he probably would have if he had not felt the nudge on his side.

He looked down and saw Toothless looking up at, a worried look in his eyes. He rubbed the dragon's head in reassurance, "Its alright, Toothless," he said. "I just got caught up in the music, that's all." Toothless hummed back and Hiccup smiled. With his hand still on Toothless' head, he looked over towards the chief's table and saw his father conversing with Beowulf.

Hiccup watched for a moment while Beowulf made hand gestures while Stoick, Gobber, and Spitelout listened intently while Unferth beside Beowulf continued with his meal. "Hiccup," he heard Astrid call to him. He turned and saw her beckoning him to the table she was sitting at. He walked over and sat down next to her at the end of the table and Toothless laid down next to him. She smiled at him and he smiled back. He then turned and found himself sitting across from Wiglaf.

"Ah, the chief's son," he said. "My father wishes to know more about taming dragons, so tomorrow lets see this 'Dragon Academy' I've heard about." "Uhm, okay," Hiccup said. "And maybe, perhaps I could teach you to ride one." Wiglaf stared at for a moment, "No," he deadpanned. Hiccup and Astrid exchanged glances, then turned back to Wiglaf. "Never," he said with finality.

At that moment, Wiglaf's friends sat down on the bench next to him. Heather sat down beside Wiglaf, followed by Oliver, then Jason, then Quintus, followed by Viriathus, and finally Tarabai. "Well?" Wiglaf asked, taking a bite of fish. "You were right," Oliver said. "Every dragon here has been felled by your father at least once." Wiglaf nodded just as Hiccup's other friends sat down on the opposite side of the table, first Fishlegs, then Snoutlout, followed by Ruffnut, and then Tuffnut. "How amazing is this?" Fishlegs asked those around him. "The real-life Beowulf here, in Berk." He then turned to Wiglaf and asked, "Did he really beat a whole tribe of giants?"

Wiglaf took a sip of water before asking his own question, "Do you have any idea how many times I've answered that question?" It became quiet at their tables as all eyes fell on Wiglaf. He sighed and said, "He fought a tribe of men of great stature that were threatening us but they weren't giants. He defeated their leader in single combat and that was the end of it."

"Gobber tells that story a lot better," Astrid said. "Yeah," Tuffnut nodded. "Besides I like the one where took on that whole armada in a rowboat with nothing but an oar and a longsword." "It was only twenty ships," Wiglaf said. "He dove in and drilled holes into the hulls of their boats." "That still sounds pretty cool," Ruffnut said. "What about the one where he fought the giant bear?" "Brought it down with only a dagger," Wiglaf answered, nodding.

"The swimming match between Beowulf and Breca?" Hiccup asked. Wiglaf smiled and crossed his arms. "Unferth's 'favorite' story," he said with a laugh. "Perhaps he should tell it." He then leaned forward and said, "Breca and my father swam for seven days and nights, caring long swords and wearing their strong mail-shirts to ward off any foul creature."

"On the fifth day," he continued. "A storm came, stirring up great sea-serpents from the deep. At first, they tried to out swim them, but they steadily gained on them and that's when my father saw one heading straight for Breca." The young Hooligans leaned forward, totally engrossed in the story. "Fearing for his swimming companion," Wiglaf said. "My father dived and attacked these foul creatures. Again and again he fended off these beasts from both killing himself and Breca. Unfortunately slaying the serpents cost my father the race." "Whoa," Tuffnut breathed. "How many did he kill?"

"Thirty," Ruffnut answered. "No way," said Snoutlout. "It was twenty." "I thought it was twenty-five," chimed in Fishlegs. "Nine," a voiced said from behind them. They turned and saw, to their surprise, Beowulf. "I killed nine sea-serpents," he said lowering himself to eye level between Fishlegs and Astrid. "And even though I lost the swimming match, I won the heart of a fair maiden." He then smiled, turned to Wiglaf, and said, "We wedded and then she bore me a beautiful son."

His face then saddened, "Then she passed from this world." He looked away for a moment, then back at Wiglaf and said, "I would like to speak to my son now." "And I would like to speak to mine as well," another voice said. This time it was Stoick. Hiccup and Wiglaf exchanged glances before standing up and following their fathers. "I wonder what they're going to talk about?" Astrid asked aloud. "Can you believe Beowulf just talked to us?" Fishlegs asked giddily.

"You can't be serious?" Wiglaf asked, crossing his arms. His father had taken him to a corner of the hall and was told of an agreement between Stoick and Beowulf. "You want me to train the chief's son in the ways of combat?" "In exchange," Beowulf said. "He'll teach you about dragon training." Wiglaf blinked, "You want me fly a dragon?" Beowulf smiled and said, "Not just any dragon." Wiglaf's widened as he understood his father's words. "Hygelac," Wiglaf said. "You speak of Hygelac."

"Yes," Beowulf said, nodding. Wiglaf shook his head, not quite believing the words coming out of his father's mouth. He massaged the bridge of his nose, "I doubt Hygelac would enjoy me being on his back for hours on end," Wiglaf said. "He's stronger than you give him credit for," Beowulf said. "I don't doubt his strength," Wiglaf said. "I do not wish to be a burden to him." "As much as he loves you," Beowulf said. "I doubt you'd be any kind of burden." Wiglaf turned from his father, "Just doesn't feel right."

Beowulf placed a comforting hand on his shoulder. "Just nerves," he said. "You will feel better about it as time passes." "You're not giving me a choice, are you?" Wiglaf asked, turning back. Beowulf then placed both hands on his shoulders, "If you feel you can't accomplish this task," he said. "Then tell me and I won't have you do it." Wiglaf scanned the hall, looking for that one particular dragon.

When he had first come to the hall, he was astonished that the people of the island called Berk allowed the dragons access to their halls, like everyday pets. He was just as astonished to find the illusive dragon had follow the young chief's son to the corner of the hall his father had beckoned him to. "He follows him where ever he goes," Wiglaf said. "Would Hygelac show me such fealty?"

"There is no doubt in my mind that he would," Beowulf said. "Would it be so bad to ride a dragon?" "The only thing bad about this," Wiglaf said. "Is that I will have to ask the young Hiccup for dragon training when I just told him that I had no intention of it." "Better to swallow your pride than to swallow blood," Beowulf said. Just then, Unferth came over and whispered something to Beowulf. Beowulf nodded, "Song Wu has arrived." "...And so has Hygelac," Wiglaf added. "You want to go see him?" Beowulf asked. "I have something to do something first." Beowulf nodded again, then turned to Unferth.

"Wait outside until Wiglaf fetches you." Unferth nodded, bowed, then departed. When he turned back to Wiglaf, he had a soft smile on his lips. "What are you up to?" Beowulf asked suspiciously. "You'll see," Wiglaf said, walking away. Beowulf watched him for a moment and when he returned to his friends. When he did, Beowulf smiled to himself and said, "You're just like your mother."

"You can't be serious?" Hiccup asked, throwing his arms down. "You want Wiglaf to teach me how to fight?" "In exchange," Stoick said. "You teach him to fly." "I can do that," Hiccup said. "But why does he have to teach me?" "Because its time for you to learn," Stoick said. "And who better to teach you then Beowulf's son?" "By why would I need to learn to fight when I have Toothless?" Hiccup asked. "You won't always have Toothless," Stoick said. "If you two of you get separated one of you could get hurt."

"By one of us," Hiccup said, "You mean me." "Regardless of who I speak of," Stoick said. "You need to learn to fight and Wiglaf is the one to teach you." "Do I even get a choice?" Hiccup asked, sarcastically. "No," Stoick said with finality. Hiccup sighed, "Alright. When should we start?" "Tomorrow," he said. "But I have something to give you first before you go to bed tonight." Hiccup was going to ask what it was, when suddenly someone began singing...

"Oh, Wiglaf, I couldn't," Heather begged. "What would your father think?" "He would think you had a beautiful voice," Wiglaf said, taking her by the hand and leading her to stand in front of the Chief's Table. "As everyone else will." "But I can't sing in front of a crowd," Heather said. "Then don't don't sing to them," Wiglaf said. "Sing to me." "Wiglaf..." she begged one last time. He cupped her cheek, "Sing for me," Wiglaf repeated. He then turned to look at his father as he socialized with his men. Even over the noise of the hall, he could still discern his father's laugh.

But when thoughts turned to Wiglaf's mother, to Beowulf's beloved, Bria, there was no joy to be have anymore. His father did not remember the happiness that he had with Bria, only the sadness of her absence. But Wiglaf wished to lift his melancholy and to have his father truly smile when he would speak of his lost wife, not the sad one that he often shows. He turned back to Heather and said, "Sing for him."

Heather nodded and tuned from Wiglaf. She went over to Vainamoinen and whispered something in his ear, his song never stopping. He nodded and skillfully transitioned his tune from his current one to one softer and she began:

Out of the mist of history/He'll come again/Sailing on ships across the sea/To a wounded Nation/Signs of a savior/Like fire on the water/It's what we prayed for/One of our own

Just wait /Though wide he may roam/Always/A hero comes home/He goes where no one has gone/But always/A hero comes home

Deep in the heart of darkness sparks/A dream of light/Surrounded by hopelessness/He finds the will to fight/There's no surrender/Always remember/It doesn't end here/We're not alone

Just wait/Though wide he may roam/Always/A hero comes home/He goes where no one has gone/But always/A hero comes home

And he will come back on the crimson tide/Dead or alive/And even though we know the bridge has burned/He will return/He will return

Just wait/Though wide he may roam /Always/A hero comes home/He knows of places unknown/Always/A hero comes home

Someday they'll carve in stone/"The hero comes home"/He goes and comes back alone/But always/A hero comes home

Just wait/Though wide he may roam/Always/A hero comes home.

A silence came over the hall when she finished, save for the crackling of torches. No one dared break the silence, until the sounds of footsteps ended it. Beowulf made his way to Heather, a tight grip on his sword. Heather searched for Wiglaf but found him gone. Beowulf took his steps deliberately, that Heather at first thought she had offended him.

Those thoughts disappeared when Beowulf put his hands on her shoulders. He bent down and softly kissed the top of her head. He then cupped her cheek and smiled, "It had been a very long time since I've heard that song," he said. "Wiglaf told me that his mother used to sing it," Heather said. "That she did," Beowulf said. "Whenever I came home from long journey, she would sing me that song." He caressed her cheek with his thumb and said, "Perhaps one day you will do the same for Wiglaf." "I hope to one day," Heather said. Beowulf smiled again and embraced her, "I would be honored," he said. "To call you my daughter."

"As would I," she whispered. He held her tighter for a moment then released her. She looked again for Wiglaf but did not see him. "He's not here," Beowulf said, reading her thoughts. "He went to see a friend." Beowulf then turned back to the men as they resumed their socializing and smiled, "I think I have another song they'll like," he said. He then stood up on the chief's table and began his song with the men joining in the chorus and Vainamoinen changing his tune again:

There was a dozen soldiers/Frisians, Danes, and Franks/We took them to a battle/But all their hearts had sank