Week 13 Story: Hygd's Sacrifice

Hygd's Sacrifice

I knew the minute that the Wanderer stepped into our halls that things were about to change. My husband, Hygelac, didn't seem to sense it like I did. He only knew of the Wanderer's pretty harp and interesting stories, and so he asked him to sing for us. At first, the minstrel's songs were harmless, tales of the North that many of us already knew. But then, the tone of his voice changed, dropped to a lower, more ominous pitch and he began singing about Hrothgar, King of the Danes. Hrothgar's land was plagued by a fearsome monster called Grendel, and it seemed no one had been able to slay him.

I turned to look at my nephew, and saw that he was transfixed by the Wanderer's story. I felt a chill run down my spine; I knew that in Beowulf's heart, he had already decided to leave us.

Beowulf came to us as a young boy, the son of my husband's sister. Hygelac took him in after he saw that he had the strength of several grown men, and would be an important addition to the court. Separated from his parents, ostracized by the older earls who were jealous of his strength, Beowulf quickly became a lonely child. I made it my mission to care for him as if he were my own son, to teach him to ignore the slights of others so that he might not just grow up strong of body, but of mind, as well. I came to love him dearly, this awkward, clumsy boy who had not fully adjusted to his own strength. I saw that he was desperate to prove himself. It was a peaceful time for our kingdom, as my husband was at peace with his neighbors and there was no great war going on that required our men to fight. Beowulf chafed at the monotony, he ached to go on some great adventure to prove he was worthy of the great strength he had been given.

I should have foreseen, then, that a minstrel's story of faraway monsters would have such an impact on Beowulf. I watched him as the minstrel told of Hrothgar's troubles and Grendel's vicious deeds; he was completely bewitched. Beowulf's eyes, blue as the ice of the North, did not waver from the minstrel's face once. He decided then and there that he would go and destroy Grendel once and for all.

After the minstrel had finished his song, Beowulf stood and announced that, as his father was a war-brother of King Hrothgar, he would go to the land of the Danes and slay Grendel once and for all. The room erupted into confusion, the earls shouting to one another as their dogs barked raucously. I felt my heart go cold; Beowulf was strong, but what if he became Grendel's next victim? I couldn't bear to lose him, it would be like having a piece of my heart taken from me.

An artistic depiction of Queen Hygd (Source: Lisa Poletto)

Amidst the confusion, Beowulf looked up at Hygelac and I. My husband was still thinking over Beowulf's announcement, but I already knew what it meant for us. Beowulf looked to me, and I could see that nothing I could do would change his mind. If I forced him to stay, he would only resent me, and connect me to his feelings of unworthiness. I had to let him go, even if it meant we might lose him.

I took up one of our jeweled cups filled with mead in my hands and stepped down off our dais to stand in front of Beowulf. I could not bear to speak, for I worried if I opened my mouth, I would beg him to stay. Instead, I offered him the cup, my hands trembling slightly. Beowulf bowed his head in thanks. He knew that I did not want him to go, and he was grateful that I was letting him. He took the cup from my hands and drank deeply.

Just before my husband stood to speak, Beowulf passed the cup back to me and said, "I will come back."

Author's note: This story is based off of the a few of the introductory stories from Beowulf. Beowulf is taken in by his uncle, King Hygelac, and his aunt, Queen Hygd. In the stories in which Hygd is involved, she never speaks. I didn't want to completely change that and add a whole string of dialogue, so instead I tried to go inside her head and imagine what she felt when Beowulf decided to leave his home to fight Grendel. She had raised him from a young boy, and though the stories show her response to Beowulf's announcement to leave as one of pride and affection, I thought someone who had raised Beowulf might have some genuine worry and fear underneath that. The relationship between Hygd and Beowulf isn't really discussed in the stories, but I like to imagine that they're close, and I hope this story showed that.

Story Source: The Story of Beowulf by Strafford Riggs with illustrations by Henry Pitz (1933)