Chapter 3

My face is bright red as I pour the bitter liquid; man's sweet nectar into cups. My humiliation has not died down with in me. If anything it has risen and worsen being out in the open serving these foreign men. No doubt these men had also saw me parading around in my previous state but thus far through this evening not one man has mention my tentative subject. My curiosity is in wonderment as to why these men have not brought it to my ears or attention. It surely would be a good laugh among them despite my absolute humiliation. The men of Denmark that reside in this hall would surely be slaughtering my respiration if they were aware, and luckily they are not.

Also I managed to escape mother's watchful eyes and was not caught. If mother saw me dress like that… oh my imagination does not want to imagine the horror that could occur as punishment. Currently I am dwelling at the farthest corner in the hall, avoiding the Geat prince sitting in crowded table residing near Hrothgar's throne. Every once in a while my brown eyes flick up and dazedly admire the young prince's face from my distance. My face would only grow redder at the memory of horrible first impression.

Suddenly prince Beowulf turn his head, and darted his eyes far and straight at me. I froze, my nervous hands gripping onto the handle of the wooden pitcher. Our lock eyes bore into each other for what seems as long as a century, till the prince brook out into a toothy grin that made my heart stop and skip a beat entirely before beating with a hurried pace. I ducked my head low, hiding my redden cheeks and concentrating on the faint swirls on the wood tables.

I quickly stood back up, probably leaving that man's cup half full, and start rush away. Suddenly I felt a light tap on my left shoulder. I shudder a hallow breath before turning around to face the person. My shallow sigh catches in my throat and nearly chokes me when I look up to Prince Beowulf staring down at me. My mouth opens to say something but I shut it just as quickly knowing my place of only speak when spoken to.

He grins down at me, a grin mighty and charming enough to knock a herd of cows tumbling over. "Greetings." The prince says and I weakly nod, curtsying. "U-um, I-is th-e-ere somet-thing you need my l-lord?" I mange to ask while glaring nervously at the floor with red cheeks. The prince looks like he was in thought for a minute then broke out into another breath taking grin.

"I would like a tour of the infamous Herot." He says dazing at me with a sharp glance fill with curiosity. "O-oh. U-u-um r-right th-his way my lord." I force out, my heart pounding with each nervous stutter I release. We walk past a table into the stone constructed halls and I could feel my hands shaking. "Th-hese ar-re roo-ms… that are use for suitors…" I choke out hearing screams and moans and grunts rise behind the wooden doors. These rooms were intestinally built for sleeping but soon became rooms were men pleased themselves.

He stares at me then the doors then back at me and lets out a husky low laugh. "Sounds like they are weathering something wicked in there." He chuckles. "If you would like… I could fetch a girl for you…" I say suddenly able to talk normally but at such a shy quiet tone. Surely the girls who jobs weren't to satisfy would all come running at the chance. For some odd reason my burns and clenches at the thought.

"No, I did come to Denmark for many reasons. One for honor and pride and to try the legendary mead. Even to see the kingdom. But I did not come here for such an act." He says. I could not stop the sheepish grin that graced my face at his words. Most men of twenty one would love to ravish savagely a women but not him. My admiration only grows. He smiled back at me and gestured with his hand. "Shall we continue?" he asks. I grin and lower myself yet into another curtsy and nod. "Let us." I say as we walk further and away from the sounds of lust.

We walk into the now empty kitchen, all the cooks of made a grand feast and left. The prince walks up to a barrow and pours himself water. "No, allow me Prince-" I start but he cuts me off. "No no no you have been tending to others the entire evening. Rest. I can surely do this small task myself." He says. I meekly sit down on a near by stool and the prince sits across from me, handing me water.

"Thank you, you are so thoughtful prince Beowulf." I say sipping. He states at me "Address me as Beowulf. There is no need for prince or my lord. I am of just a man." He says. I stare up at him in disbelief. "Is that what you think? Men are… those out there." I say jetting out my chin towards the thin wall where we can still hear the wild cheers of the celebrating men.

"But you my Lor- I mean um… Beowulf." I say and he smiles at me. "You are so much more. Yes you are a champion. A man who has slain monster after monster. But you are a man of intellect. You do not fever after women; you did not boost like a wild hog and drink as if the sun will not rise the next day. You are a kind kindle sprit. Whose wisdom will set legacies in stone. Your heart is just as big as the muscles you use to destroy monster of darkness. Truly admirable. And that is why the title of noble is fitting an needed." I say then my face pales.

"Oh… I apologize I did not mean to ramble and speak out of term." I say looking down at the floor. I hear him hop off his stool and feel my heart burn yet again, knowing he will probably walk back to the mead, upset at my manners. But Beowulf did not do what I anticipate. Instead his fingers latched onto my chin gently, and slowly raises my head up till my brown eyes stare into his intense dark brown orbs.

"Admirable? Really?" he asks as if an excited child. I nod. "Through out my time all I ever get recognized for is my strength. And you… whom I have just met in such a short time… as seen me for so much more. Thank you." He says staring down at me.

I feel my face flush and nod again. "I speak the truth." I say. "…What is your name?" je asks. "Arietta." I say. "Arietta." He repeats tasting the foreign name on his tongue. "Such a beautiful name for beautiful girl." He says and I blush. I take note how his fingers are still place on my chin. "I am nothing special. Just a simple wench who will always be wenching." I say. He stares at me again, his grin making me nervous.

"Arietta, you see so much in me, if only you saw as much in yourself you amazing naïve girl." He says quietly. Then he pulls me up my hand and holds me close to him. My thin fingers nervously knot themselves into his mail shirt. My heart pounding loudly in my ears. Soon I realized he was rocking us in a circle. We're dancing. I smile up at him.

He grins down at me and spins me and I laugh along with him. I had never had so much fun in such a long time. He brings me back to his chest and his grip seems to tighten than before. Burying me closer in his large muscular body till our hips bones brushed each other, making friction. Once we had finished dancing we sat next to each other and talk. We hid out together as if children playing, as if we were in our own world. He allowed me to rest my head on his shoulder and he placed his head on top of mine and we stayed like that.

Till I feel asleep. And I had an odd dream where I thought I was half awake and Beowulf face lowered closer to mine. I dreamt that he had kissed me, I could feel the warmth from his cheeks brushing against mine, and the sensation from his lips.

It felt so real.