Hakon-------by Lennox MacDuff------cpmills@indiana.edu
http://members.tripod.com/~movieland/gargoyles

Summary:  Ever wonder where the Gargoyles’ most hated foe 
came from?  Rated PG for language.

Hello!  Thanks for having a look at my story!  This is my 
first fanfic, so any comments would be GREATLY appreciated.
	This story was greatly inspired by the story "Owen’s
Memoirs", by Jennifer Vail.  It’s a great story, I suggest 
you read it (before or after this one, it really doesn’t 
matter.  They have no bearing on each other).
	I was watching "Gargoyles: Awakenings"  when I 
thought to myself *Self, that Hakon dude is a really mean 
guy.  But where did he come from?*  I thought about it and 
thought about it, and in the end I decided to write this 
fanfic to explain it.
	
And now, for the legal stuff.  If you really think that _I_ 
created the Gargoyles characters, then you really haven’t 
een out much.  Disney, please don’t sue.  Also, I use some 
lines directly from the show.  Again, please don’t sue.  If 
anything, guys, it’s free advertising.

With that out of the way, may I present----
<^>^<^>^<^>^<^>^<^>^<^>^<^>^<^>^<^>^<^><^>^<^>^<^>

 			**HAKON**

	"YOU LYING SCUM!"
	With a yell, the Captain of the Guard ran at Hakon. 
Surprised, Hakon let go of the princess’ arm as the Captain 
lunged at him.  All three were thrown over the edge of the 
cliff.  As Hakon began to scream, he saw the beast the 
Captain called Goliath grab the princess’ arm, pulling her 
to safety.  The air began to rush up faster as the two men 
fell downward.  Amid his screams, Hakon remembered a 
different kind of scream, one he had uttered long ago...

	"Please father!"
	Andrew sighed.  "For the last time, no."
	"But why not?" pleaded Hakon, tears beginning to 
well in his eyes.
	"Oh, now don’t start wailing like a baby.  I’ve told
you before as I’m telling you now, you’re only ten and too 
young to go on a raid."
	"I can handle myself!"
	Andrew sighed again, one of many he had uttered 
during the conversation.  No, conversation wasn’t the word. 
During the _argument_.  *Why am I even arguing with the 
boy?* thought Andrew. *Why does he not just do as I say, as 
I did with _my_ father?*  Then again, Hakon always had been 
a stubborn child, egar to follow in his father’s footsteps. 
Andrew smiled as he remembered his son’s eyes grow wide at 
the stories he told him about the various raids that he and 
his men went on.
	"I’m tired of this discussion," Andrew said.  "Very 
well, you can go."
	Hakon let out a whoop of joy, and Andrew couldn’t 
help but to admire the boy’s enthusiasm.  His face remained 
hard, in spite of his pride.  "But if you make trouble..."
	"No sir!" Hakon quickly said.  "I won’t make 
trouble.  I’ll be a big help!  You’ll see!"  Hakon ran off,
fighting imaginary warriors with a stick that he liked to 
pretend was a great sword.  Andrew chuckled to himself, 
trying to decide which of his men he should trust to look 
after Hakon.
	"Have you gone mad?!"
	Andrew winced.  He had hoped that his wife had not 
overheard.  Viking warrior or not, Andrew didn’t like 
confronting his wife when she was angry.
	"No, Sarah," he said, as he turned to face his wife.
She was small, a full foot shorter than he, but there were 
times when he felt she could defeat an entire army all the 
same.  "The boy will be well taken care of.  Besides, we are
attacking Wickland.  It’s people are weak, they won’t put up
much of a fight."
	"Whether they are warriors or cowards, I don’t want 
my Hakon tagging along!"
	Andrew took his wife into his arms.  She tried to 
pull away, but he held her fast.  "Nothing will happen to 
Hakon, I promise you that.  Have I ever broken my word to 
you?"
	"No, but...Andrew, he’s only ten!  Don’t you think 
he’s too young to go on one of your raids?"
	"Come now, my love.  I was only eleven when my 
father took me on my first raid, and he was even younger 
than I was when his father took him.  It’s tradition."
	"Well...tradition or not, if he gets hurt, I’ll take
it out of your backside!"  Sarah pinched Andrew, and pulled 
back from him.
	"Oh really?" replied Andrew with a grin.  "And how 
do you know I won’t enjoy it when you do?"
	Andrew lunged at her.  She jumped out of the way, a 
smile spreading over her face.  "Now, we’ll have none of 
that.  I’m cooking dinner."
	"Dinner can wait!" said Andrew as he scooped up his 
wife.  She screamed as he began to tickle her.  "Had 
enough?"
	"Yes!  Yes!" cried Sarah, laughing so hard tears 
were streaming down her face.  Andrew stopped tickling her. 
She looked him in the eyes.  "I really do hate you, you 
know."
	"Oh, I don’t think that’s true," Andrew replied.  He 
looked back at his wife’s gaze, and saw the love in her 
eyes.  "I love you."
	Sarah smiled.  "Aye, and I you.  Now let me down, I 
have to cook!"
	"I told you, dinner can wait!"  He carried his wife 
into the bedroom and closed the door.
	The next morning, Hakon got up extra early to get 
his chores done in time to go with his father.  At noon his 
father came in the house.  "Ready boy?" he asked.  
	"Yes sir!"  Hakon replied, jumping into his father’s 
arms.
	"Oof!  Get down, before you tumble me over!"
	Andrew and Hakon walked to the dock, where the ship 
was already manned and ready to go.  Hakon ran on board and 
sat on a barrel.  "Are you ready then?" asked his father.  
"All right.  Let’s be off, men!  May we have a good bounty!"
	The ship sailed across the cold waters.  In the next
day and a half, Hakon watched all of the men go about their 
jobs with fascinated awe.  Among them all, his father stood 
at the front of the ship, occasionally giving out an order.  
He watched Andrew with admiration, wanting to be just 
like him one day.  His father was the leader of their 
village, and one day he might be too.
	Hakon walked around the ship, watching all of the 
jobs being done.  As the men did their rigging, mopping, 
stacking or hammering, they all sang mighty songs of war and
glory that rang in Hakon’s ears.  He watched his father sing 
along with them, his caring for all of them obvious.  Hakon 
stared at his father and admired him even more.
	Soon they reached the tiny fishing village of 
Wickland.  Although Hakon had not heard his parent’s 
conversation, Andrew was right in what he had said.  The 
people of Wickland were in no way warriors, and didn’t stand
a chance of defending themselves against their attack.  Not 
that they didn’t try.  "A man will fight his fiercest when 
defending his home," his father once told him.  Hakon saw 
that this was true.
	The villagers saw the ship approaching, and knew 
what it meant.  Cries of warning and alarm swept through the
village.  The men ran for whatever weapons they had, while 
the women and children were quickly rushed to safety.  The 
weapons the village possessed were not much, mostly 
pitchforks and hoes with a few swords here and there.  Hakon
looked at them from the ship, and was almost sorry for them.
Almost.
	When the ship was close enough to the shore, 
Andrew’s men jumped out and began to run through the shallow
water to shore.  Hakon was about to jump down into the water
when his father grabbed him by the shirt.  "No Hakon," he 
yelled.  "You stay here."
	"But father," Hakon began.
	"No buts!  You stay here!"  Andrew smiled.  
"Besides, someone needs to stay behind to guard the boat.  
Can you do that for me?"
	"Yes sir!" cried Hakon, his chest swelling with 
pride.
	"Good boy!  Now stay here, and wish me luck!"  With 
that, Andrew was in the water, running to join his men.
	The fight was very one sided.  As Hakon observed, 
the villagers didn’t stand a chance.  He watched as his 
father’s men tore through the villagers.  Death screams 
echoed in Hakon’s ears, and his eyes widened as he watched 
the fight.  He so wanted to join his father, to fight along 
side him.  But, that was not his job.  His job was to guard 
the ship, and he was not about to let his father down.
	The fight was over rather quickly.  Most of the 
villagers dead, the Vikings were free to loot the village.  
A few hours later they were sailing home, the ship laden 
with bounty.  Andrew walked over to his son and patted him 
on the head.  "You did well, by son.  I’m proud of you."

	As Hakon began the fall to his death, he twisted his
body to avoid the jagged points rushing past him.  If he 
would die, at least he would try to make it painless.  A 
rock came up to greet him, tearing into the flesh of his 
arm.  Hakon howled in pain...

	He grabbed his arm, as if trying to hold the pain at
bay.  The cut had been deep.  He stumbled backward, the 
soldier he was fighting seeing opportunity.  Hakon rolled as
the soldier stabbed down, and barley missed being impaled on
the point of the soldier’s spear.  Hakon began to panic.  
*What am I doing here?!* he thought.  *I’m only fifteen, I 
can’t fight in a battle!*  
	The soldier lunged at Hakon again, and this time 
Hakon somehow managed to get to his feet.  Delirious with 
pain, he began to run.  The soldier chased Hakon through 
the battlefield, trying to catch him and finish what he had 
started.  Tears blurred Hakon’s vision as he ran.  He 
tripped and tumbled to the ground.  The soldier stood above 
him, laughing.  He was about to end Hakon’s misery when an 
arrow shot through the air, ripping through the soldier’s 
throat.  As blood poured down his chest, the soldier made a 
final gurgle as he died.
	Hakon looked in the direction the arrow had come 
from and saw his father running to him.  The blood loss was 
beginning to make Hakon black out, and he saw his father 
lean over him before everything went black.
	The darkness began to fade away, and Hakon tried to 
see where he was.  *Am I dead?* he thought.  *Is this 
Valhalla?*  He opened his eyes to see Andrew standing over 
him, his face full of worry.  
	"Hakon!  Thank Odin you’re alive!  I thought I’d 
lost you!"
	Hakon looked around.  He was on the ship, sailing 
back homeward.  "I’ve failed you, father," Hakon said 
miserable.  "I was defeated.  I don’t deserve to fight 
alongside the others."
	"Hey now," said his father.  "You have done no such 
thing.  You are still a boy, and you were fighting a soldier
almost twice your age.  All in all, you did pretty well."
	"But...I lost," Hakon insisted.
	"All that means is that you’re not ready yet.  Maybe
I’ll take you on a raid again in a year.  But for now, get 
some sleep.  When you’re strong enough, we’ll start your 
training.  For a while, you had him right where you wanted 
him.  I’m proud of you, son."
	"But...but..."  But it was too late.  A deep, 
dreamless sleep overtook Hakon.
	A year later,  Andrew took Hakon on another raid, 
true to his word.  It had been only a year, but the change 
in Hakon had been remarkable.  He was a full half foot 
taller, and much broader in the shoulders.  He had the 
beginnings of what would become a full beard, and he could 
lift three sacks of flour without any strain.
	As the ship arrived at its destination, Andrew 
pulled his son aside.
	"Remember what I taught you, my son,"  he said.  "Be
proud and strong, and never show fear."
	"I will, father," replied Hakon, his voice 
possessing more confidence than his spirit.  *Am I ready for
this?* he thought.  Hakon looked into his father’s face.  
Andrew beamed at his son with pride.  *Yes* thought Hakon.  
*I can do it.  With my father behind me, I can do anything.*
	Hakon ran into the small town, his sword ready for 
battle.  A warrior came to meet his challenge.  Hakon looked
him over quickly.  He was about the same size as Hakon, and 
a little older.  The warrior attacked first, and Hakon 
fended off the attack without effort.  The battle was over 
within minutes.  Every time the warrior attacked, Hakon 
defended himself like a master and countered.  First blood 
was his, and second, and third.  He felt a rush of power 
flow through him as he beat the warrior to the ground.  With
a final blow, His foe was no more.
	Hakon stood over the corpse of the fallen warrior, 
and let loose a mighty cry of victory.  He had defeated a 
warrior, he had won!  But it was more than that.  He had not
simply defeated the warrior, he was superior to him.  He was
the master.  For the first time in his life, Hakon felt like
he was in charge.  And he liked it...

	Hakon screamed as the cavern floor rushed up to meet
him.  At least he had the pleasure of knowing that that 
miserable Captain of the Guard would die as well.  Hakon 
looked at the Captain as they fell, and saw the fear in the 
man’s eyes.  *Good* thought Hakon.  *He’s afraid.  Let that 
bastard die afraid*  As the ground came into sight, Hakon 
thought of another time he had that same thought...

	"Attack, men!  Show no mercy!"
	The men ran into he village, swords drawn.  Hakon 
was now a strong young man of twenty three, and his father’s
second-in-command.  He looked behind him, and saw his father
resting against a tree.  The years had not been kind to the 
old man, and he appeared much older than he really was.  A 
serious wound to the leg some time earlier had left him with
a severe limp, and he was no longer able to lead his men 
into attack himself.  Instead, he lead through his son, who 
had turned into a fine warrior in his own right.
	Hakon ran into the village, his broadsword flying.  
The men who stood in his way posed no challenge for his 
might, and they had soon killed almost off of the village’s 
warriors.  The man ran through the streets, taking whatever 
they could carry.  Hakon charged into the doorway of a small
house, where a young woman was hiding in fear.  He smiled 
and redrew his sword.  The woman’s eyes widened in fear as 
she begged him in a hoarse whisper not to hurt her.  Hakon 
walked into the house.
	From a short distance, Andrew saw his son draw his 
weapon and walk into the small dwelling.  *What’s he up to?*
Andrew thought.  *All of the village’s warriors are dead, 
the place is ours.  Why would he still need his broadsword?*
Andrew began to hobble over to the small house to find out 
for himself.
	"Please, please don’t hurt me!" cried the woman, her
arms in front of her face as if to offer some protection.  
Hakon looked her over.  She was in her late teens, and quite
lovely.  Her autumn hair flowed down over her shoulders, and
her skin was like smooth silk.  *Pity,* thought Hakon.  *But
I can’t risk having her attack while I’m not looking.*  A 
venomous grin spread over Hakon’s face, as he lifted his 
broadsword to deliver a deathblow.
	"Stop!"  yelled his father’s voice from behind him. 
Hakon turned around to face his father, who was leaning 
against the door frame for support. 
	"What are you doing?" Andrew asked in astonishment.
	"What does it look like I’m doing.  I’ll leave no 
one to risk jeopardizing our plunder."  Hakon turned back to
the girl, and raised his sword again.  Andrew grabbed his 
wrist, and pulled him around.
	"The village is ours!  You have no need of killing a
helpless woman!"
	Hakon pushed his father away.  "Of course we do!  
She could be trouble.  We can’t take the chance.  Besides, 
killing is our way!  I’ve seen you do it dozens of times!"
	"Hakon," Andrew said, his voice filling with 
concern.  "To kill while in battle is one thing, but we are 
not murderers.  I taught you better than that."
	"You taught me to survive, and that’s what I’m 
doing."  Hakon whirled around, and swung at the woman.  
Andrew lunged at him, pushing him aside before his sword 
could reach it’s mark.  Seeing her opportunity, the young 
woman ran from the house, screaming.
	"What are you doing?!" cried Hakon in rage.
	"I’m still the leader of this clan, and you will do 
as I say!"
	"You are a foolish old man.  Age has feebled your 
mind.  How dare you stop me from killing her!"
	Andrew looked at his son with rage.  "I dare because
I am your father.  You shall do as I say!  I LEAD THIS 
CLAN!"
	"Not anymore," replied Hakon, as he ran his sword 
through his father’s gut.  Andrew’s blood ran over Hakon’s 
hand, and he stared up at his son, who was wearing an evil 
grin.  
	"Betrayer..." gasped Andrew, as he fell to the 
floor.
	Hakon looked down at his father’s corpse, and spat. 
*Weak old fool* he thought.  *I will take these men to 
victories that you could never have dreamed.*
	Hakon walked outside, still holding the bloody sword
in his hand.  "Hear me now!" he yelled to the men.  All of 
them stopped what they were doing to listen.  "My father is 
dead, slain by my own hand!"
	The Vikings looked to each other in disbelief.  How 
could this man, who as a boy was so loyal to his father, 
commit such an atrocious act?
	"My father was a weak fool, who could not see the 
possibilities for all of us!  I am now leader, and I will 
take us to victories that we have never dreamed!  Does 
anyone dare oppose me?"
	The men looked to each other.  Hakon was the 
mightiest warrior in the clan, and by tradition he had 
earned the leadership.  One by one, they began to chant.
	"HAKON!  HAKON!  HAKON!  HAKON!  HAKON!"

	Hakon landed on the cavern floor with a sickening 
thump.  He groaned, feeling the blood pour out of him.  As 
the world around him went black, he thought of how his doom 
had started, when he announced to his men where his next 
target would be...

	"CASTLE WYVERN?!  ARE YE MAD??"
	Looks of worry spread over the men.  "What’s the 
matter?" demanded Hakon.  Do you think we can’t overthrow 
it’s army?  We have grown strong since I took command!  We 
can do it!"
	One brave man stepped forward.  "It’s not the men we
fear, Hakon.  Castle Wyvern is protected by monsters."
	"Come now.  I’ve heard the stories just as you have.  
Fearsome gargoyles that come to life when the sun sets to 
protect the castle.  I say now they are just stories and 
legends!  My grandmother used to tell me tales of dragons 
when I was a child, but that doesn’t make them real."
	"Yes, but these are more than stories.  The 
gargoyles _are_ real!"
	Hakon jumped down off of the table he was standing 
on and grabbed the man by the throat.  "Listen, Eric, you 
sniveling coward.  I’ll hear no more of this.  We attack 
Castle Wyvern.  We have enough of an arsenal that we can 
destroy the inhabitants, and any monsters that may be hiding
within."
	A nervous laughter spread through the Vikings.  
"Gather our arms!  I want catapults as well. We leave for 
Castle Wyvern in the morning!  And we all go!  The entire 
clan!  We’ll need great numbers if we are to defeat them.  
Remember!  A man will fight his fiercest when defending his 
home."  Hakon began to walk away from his nervous men.
	"But Hakon," began Eric.  "If we leave in the 
morning, it will be almost sunset when we arrive..."
	Hakon snapped around.  Eric saw the fury in his eyes
and said no more.
	The next night they arrived at the castle.  The 
people within were taken by surprise as they began the 
attack.  Archers appeared at the castle walls, and the 
arrows began to rain down.  Using the catapults, the Vikings
were able to smash down a few areas of the wall.  The 
archers began to shoot flaming arrows, and soon the entire 
area was ablaze.
	In the midst of the battle, Eric leaned over to the 
Viking standing next to him.  "Attacking a castle full of 
gargoyles near nightfall.  This is crazy, and Hakon knows 
it."  Hakon, who had been standing right behind him, grabbed 
Eric by the shoulder and whirled him around.  "No, my
_friend_," he said, a dangerous rage filling his eyes.  
"That’s not crazy.  Questioning my sanity when I’m in 
earshot, _that’s_ crazy."  Hakon pushed Eric away.  
	"I say those gargoyles are naught but chiseled 
stone," he yelled.  "And even if they aren’t, it’s worth the 
risk for the plunder within."  Hakon drew his sword.  
"ATTACK!!"
	The entire Viking army ran toward the castle.  The 
catapults continued to pulverize the castle wall as Hakon 
and a few other men threw grappling hooks up the parapet 
wall.  As they scaled up, Hakon squinted to block out the 
glare of the setting sun.  His rope led him to the top, 
next to the largest of the statues.  *A handsome statue* he 
thought.  *It will look nice on my own wall*  As he stared, 
the stone form began to crack.  Hakon’s eyes widened in 
fear.  *By Odin, it was true!*  The statue burst into life, 
eyes aglow.  The gargoyle grabbed Hakon by the wrist and 
held him aloft.  It opened it’s mouth and spoke with a deep,
rumbling voice.  "You...are trespassing."

	*Yes* Hakon thought to himself as he lay dying.  
*The battle went badly.  If not for those damned gargoyles, 
the castle would be mine.  I got them though.  I got them...*

	Hakon sat in the mouth of a cave, brooding over his 
loss as he ate a leg of mutton that wasn’t even cooked all 
the way.  A shadow passed over him.  He looked up to see a 
stranger, his face covered by the hood of his cloak.
	"What do you want?" grumbled Hakon.
	"You seek the fall of Castle Wyvern," said the 
stranger in a hushed, yet oddly familiar, voice.  Hakon 
looked up, interested but unsure.  Was this man mocking him?
*If he is, he’ll die for it*  Hakon thought.
	"What of it?"
	"Perhaps a bargain can be made."
	Hakon tossed his mutton aside.  This might be worth 
hearing.  "I’m listening."
	The stranger pulled back his hood to reveal a long, 
gray mustache and a round, balding face.  "You are the 
Captain of the Guard!" Hakon gasped.  "What are you doing 
here?"
	"As I said," answered the Captain, his voice 
returning to it’s usual thick Scottish accent.  "I wish to 
make a bargain.  I help you take the castle.  In return,  
you leave the castle be. Take the people prisoner, and bring 
them with you.  You may loot as you wish but the castle 
itself is to remain unharmed."
	Hakon thought it over.  "Why are you so concerned 
with the castle?  That’s where those beasts roost.  I would 
think you’d thank me for smashing it to the ground.
	"No!" ordered the Captain, his voice carrying more 
force than it ever had before.  "The gargoyles you leave 
alone.  They won’t bother you.  They are stone by day.  You 
know that."
	"They won’t bother me, will they?"  *I can’t take 
that risk* thought Hakon.  *Of course I’ll smash those stone
monsters.  But this fool doesn’t need to know that...*  
Hakon pulled a long face, trying to conceal his glee in the 
situation.  "Hmmm...doesn’t sound like much of a challenge. 
And I hate taking prisoners.  But...all right.  I accept."
	The two men shook hands.  "Tomorrow morning, you and
your men make your attack," said the Captain as he pulled 
his hood over his head.  "I’ll have things ready for you."
	The Captain remounted his horse and rode back toward
Castle Wyvern.  Hakon watched him leave.  *Can I trust him? 
Ah, what’s the matter.  Even if he tries to betray us, we 
can still beat them easily.  Besides, I want a chance to 
even the score with those beasts...To smash those stone 
bastards to pieces...it is worth the risk*

	Before he died, Hakon heard Goliath roar far above 
him.  "I have been denied everything!  EVEN MY REVENGE!!!"  
	*Yes beast* thought Hakon, the darkness surrounding 
him.  *But mark my words, I too will have my revenge...
someday...*
	As the darkness took him, he felt hatred, bitter 
hatred.  Never before had he had someone that this much he 
could hate...
	Revenge...