Beowulf in the Dragon's Perspective

409 Words2 Pages
A Dragon’s Perspective That man, that slave, stole from me. He took my treasure, what was mine, and made it his own. He is less than human, something despicable and unworthy of even looking at my feet, and yet, he found it perfectly acceptable to take my cup. What have I done to him and his people for him to want to take such a cherished item from me? When he comes to fight me for the rest of my treasures, he will regret it. "Beowulf!" I screamed into the night. "Beowulf, king of the Geats! Fight me! Fight me!" I laughed a cry, the sound like a desperate soul trying to gain revenge. He finally came, almost at dusk. He mouthed some nonsense about his courage. It doesn't matter because he will soon learn to respect fear. My breath came first. Fiery breath after fiery breath. A streaming cloud pouring from the stone, then the earth itself shook. Beowulf swung his shield into place, held it in front of him, facing my entrance. My flames beat at the iron shield, and for a time it held, protected Beowulf as he had planned, but then it began to melt and for the first time in his life that famous prince fought with fate against him, with glory denied him. Even though he knew this he still exhausted himself trying to overcome me. He took one swipe with his iron sword, penetrating my skin and drawing blood. I leaped with pain and spouted murderous flames, spreading them everywhere. There was little fight left in him. He knew his life was coming to an end, yet foolishly resisted. He could not give up. I watched, absolutely thrilled as his followers fled. They claimed to be loyal and brave, but in their king’s final moments, left him to die. Every man had left except for a man by the name of Wiglaf, who impressed me with his undying loyalty. It irked me to know that Beowulf had not been completely deserted. I could feel the courage in this man. My goal had never been to

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