Chapter 1

It was surprising that Thedrick was still in the tavern, considering how deep into his cups he already was. Usually, by now he would have managed to piss off one of the soldiers enough that they would beat him up and throw him out onto the street. It wasn’t from lack of trying, though; but the worst the jester had gotten so far that evening was a bunch of grunts, growls and death glares from the other men before they moved away from him.

Though Thedrick was slightly hunched over the bar, bells from his hat hanging around his pale, downturned face, he couldn’t ignore the presence of the man who sat down next to him. The bar stool creaked audibly under his weight, grabbing Thedrick’s attention and making him raise his head slightly and glance to his side to see who had taken the spot next to him at the bar.

Thedrick straightened up quite a bit more as he took in the sight of the massive man who had sat down beside him. Of course, Thedrick was very small, and most other men were much taller than him, but this guy towered well above any other soldier the jester had ever seen. Thedrick would look like a child standing next to this man. Not only was he so tall that he definitely would need to duck through any doorway, but he clearly had a muscular build under the leather armour which covered his chest.

Thedrick mostly managed to tear his eyes away from the giant man for a moment so he wouldn’t get caught staring, raising his cup with a slightly trembling hand to take a sip whilst watching the newcomer out of the corner of his eye. He didn’t remember ever seeing this man at the tavern before. Was he perhaps a visitor to the kingdom? Thedrick watched with intrigue as the giant removed his helmet, setting it down on the bar next to him.

The man shook out his blonde, shoulder-length hair, smiling at the bartender before ordering a drink with a voice that had a deep, warm timbre. The light from the wall sconces reflected in his bright blue eyes, which creased at the corners from his cheery expression. A scruffy beard covered his square jaw, and his other features were soft, like his rounded nose.

Thedrick felt his breath catching in his throat as he glanced at the man. Not only was the guy built like a mountain, but he was incredibly handsome as well. However, if Thedrick made a move and it pissed this guy off like it did all the other soldiers, he could probably crush the jester’s skull with one hand. That only made the fool want to try it more, though.

Thedrick shuffled around on his seat to better face the stranger, straightening himself and peering up at him, clearing his throat. The giant must have heard him, for he turned his head and raised an eyebrow at the jester questioningly.

“Hey there, handsome,” Thedrick said with a smirk and a wink, fearless in the face of death.

“Oh, hello!” the stranger said with surprise, peering down at the much smaller man before him. “Why, thank you. You’re quite handsome yourself, little man,” he added with a friendly smile.

Thedrick stared up at the large man in shock, his smirk having fallen from his face. That wasn’t how it was supposed to go. That wasn’t supposed to happen. He had no idea what to say in response to that, he hadn’t planned on getting this far. He was stunned into silence for one of the few times in his life.

The stranger gave a slightly awkward chuckle. “You okay there, jester?” he asked gently, with a look that was expecting an answer.

“Y-Yeah, I’m great!” Some nervous chuckles spilled out after Thedrick’s words. “I just… that’s not the sort of reaction I was expecting, I… usually when I call the soldiers handsome, they beat me up… haha.”

“Oh no, that sounds terrible,” the large man said with what sounded like genuine concern, which only served to increase Thedrick’s confusion. “But, if you know they don’t like it, then why do you do it?”

“It’s just in my nature, I’m a merchant of mischief after all!” Thedrick said dismissively with a reassuring grin. “But what brings you here tonight, big man? I haven’t seen you around before, are you new in town?” Thedrick inelegantly changed the topic.

The stranger smirked and took a sip of his own large tankard. “I’m celebrating because I just got accepted into the royal guard. Been training as a soldier for several months now,” he explained cheerily.

“Well, congratulations, then. I’ll drink to that.” Thedrick raised his cup before downing the rest of its contents. “So, what can I call you, friend?”

“Beowulf. You?” The response was short, and the question quickly turned back to him.

“Thedrick!” the jester stated proudly, grinning up at Beowulf. “Where do you hail from, Beowulf?”

Beowulf looked slightly awkward for a moment. “I’m from here, actually… My family lives in town; they are bakers and butchers by trade. I was recruited into the army for… well, obvious reasons,” he said with a smirk. “But I don’t really like fighting much, which is why I’m happy to be recruited into the royal guard rather than get sent out on the front lines.”

Thedrick had to stop himself from laughing at that. This gigantic ox of a man didn’t want to fight? The notion was definitely humorous. This guy seemed to be a walking contradiction. Thedrick had expected him to be hard and gruff, but instead he seemed soft and sweet after only a few moments of speaking to him.

“I’m guessing that you’re the court jester, Thedrick?” Beowulf asked, and Thedrick nodded with a smirk.

“What gave it away?” he quipped sarcastically, giving the soldier a serious look. “Was it the hat? It was the hat, wasn’t it?” That got a hearty chuckle out of the large man, which made Thedrick smile even wider.

“From where do you hail, little jester man?” Beowulf asked, and Thedrick felt a strange feeling stir inside him at being called that.

“A kingdom very far away,” Thedrick said in a serious and mysterious tone, sweeping his hand across the air in front of him for dramatic effect. “You’ve probably never heard of it,” he added with a shrug.

“Oh, what’s it called? I don’t know much about the surrounding kingdoms, but I guess I will find out after working in the guard for a while,” Beowulf admitted sheepishly.

“Uh… well, it’s called… the kingdom of…” Thedrick looked around himself quickly. “Bar… door… Bador. The kingdom of Bador,” he finished with the utmost confidence.

“Oh… you’re right… I haven’t heard of that one… it must be very far away,” Beowulf seemed to genuinely accept this, and Thedrick had to stop himself from laughing at the man’s naive gullibility. “What trade does your family ply?”

“I come from a long and venerated line of thieves and assassins!” Thedrick exclaimed proudly, though quickly noted the unsure look on Beowulf’s face. “I’m kidding, I’m kidding!” he placated quickly, waving his hands up and down. “I’m actually from a noble house…” he said that last part very quietly.

“Oh, your family is noble?” Beowulf asked with slight confusion. “Why did you leave to become a jester here, then?”

Thedrick shrugged in response. “Because… I didn’t want any responsibility, I just wanted to have fun,” Thedrick explained quietly, his grin having fallen away.

“… did you run away from home?” Beowulf asked quietly.

Thedrick sighed and nodded in response. “But don’t tell anyone that, okay? I don’t want my family to come looking for me…” he muttered unhappily.

“But… your family must be worried about you…” Beowulf suggested melancholically.

Thedrick made a dismissive, waving gesture. “Don’t worry about them, they’ll be fine. They never liked me much anyway. Let’s talk about something else?” He gave Beowulf an imploring look.

Beowulf’s eyebrows knitted as he took another swig from his tankard. He was frowning slightly. “Alright. You didn’t fully answer why you became a jester,” he suggested.

“What, did you expect me to join the army instead? Have you seen me?” Thedrick joked as he gestured down to his small, thin frame. “I became a jester because I was the perfect size for the outfit, of course.”

Beowulf burst into laughter at that, and Thedrick couldn’t help his grin returning to his face. Apart from the briefly uncomfortable topic, this was going better than he could have ever hoped or imagined.

“You’re a funny little guy, I’ll give you that. Guess I can see why you’d take up clowning professionally,” Beowulf said mirthfully, giving Thedrick a big smile. Thedrick was desperately attempting to not to look up at the large man like a puppy that had just been praised. He needed to play it cool.

“Guess we’ll be seeing quite a bit of each other at work from now on, then?” Thedrick asked casually, thinking of the guards around the castle; especially in the places he mainly performed, like the throne room and dining hall.

“Oh! Yes, I guess so. I’ll look forward to a front row seat to your jokes,” Beowulf replied cheerily. “But, if I may ask… why do you wear the outfit outside of the castle?” The large man gestured to Thedrick’s black and red clothing, complete with bell-tipped shoes and hat.

“Well, why do you wear your armour when you are off work?” Thedrick shot back with a smirk.

The question seemed to take Beowulf off guard for a moment. “Oh, well, because I’m proud of my work, and you never know when duty may call…”

“I’m proud of my work as well,” Thedrick stated with a confident nod. “This outfit signifies I am the funniest guy in the entire kingdom, which is quite the feat considering how many fools we have around here.”

Beowulf chuckled again, and Thedrick couldn’t help but feel pleased with himself. “Do they pay you well for your jokes?” the soldier asked through his laughter.

“Actually, they do. Can I buy you a drink?” Thedrick offered with a grin.

Beowulf’s blue eyes widened slightly in surprise, and he blinked a few times in a moment of stunned silence. “Alright, that was pretty smooth, I’ll give you that. Sure,” he agreed as he put down his empty tankard and pushed it across the bar.

Thedrick grinned widely, then got the attention of the bartender, ordering them both a drink. He then climbed up and sat on top of the bar so he would be more at eye level with his gigantic new friend.

They talked away as they drank, Thedrick cracking many more jokes; all of which Beowulf laughed at, to the jester’s delight. He kept the drinks coming for the big man, though not so many more for himself as his head was already starting to spin a bit.

"... so the young prince was crying, the dining table was on fire; the queen was screaming, and I was there absolutely shredding it on the lute..." Thedrick continued to recount a tale to an enrapt Beowulf, grinning maniacally, "and that's how I lost my previous job!”

“They fired you?” Beowulf enquired with a chuckle.

“Yes. Out of a catapult. Over the castle walls. I landed in the lake,” Thedrick explained in short, punchy sentences.

Beowulf’s eye widened in shock. “Dear lord, that sounds like a bit of an overreaction,” he said uncertainly, mouth pulled into a slight frown.

“It was the middle of winter, so the worst part was the pneumonia,” Thedrick continued nonchalantly, shrugging.

“Wow, how are you still alive? You must have the luck of the devil!” Beowulf exclaimed, looking at Thedrick with disbelief.

“I don’t know if I would call getting tossed over the castle walls into the lake and getting pneumonia ‘lucky’,” Thedrick pointed out with a dubious look.

“Well, you lived to tell the tale, that is pretty lucky,” Beowulf argued back. “And it seems you managed to get a new job here, and hopefully won’t get tossed over the castle walls again.”

“This king is a pretty nice guy, and he likes my jokes and pays me well. I hope to remain in his service for the foreseeable future,” Thedrick stated rather earnestly before picking up his cup, peering into it to find it empty once again.

“I like your jokes as well,” Beowulf said with a reassuring smile.

“Then that makes two whole people!” Thedrick jested dramatically, grinning again. His loud voice echoed through the now mostly quiet tavern, making him look around and finally notice that most of the other patrons had left for the night.

“Welp, it seems it's about time to go,” Thedrick said, and started to try and climb down off the top of the bar. He slipped and went crashing to the floor, landing on his face. “Ow ow ow,” he muttered as he overcame the shock of the impact, trying to lift himself off the wooden floorboards.

Thedrick froze as he felt metal gauntlets grab his body, and soon his lithe frame was being lifted into the air. He raised his spinning, aching head as he was turned upright, looking up into the concerned face of the large soldier who was lifting him as easily as a doll. Beowulf set Thedrick down on his feet, moving his large hands from the jester’s waist to his shoulders to steady him.

Thedrick blinked up at the blurry visage of the soldier, feeling his cheeks flush with heat. “Th-Thank you,” the jester stuttered, trying and failing to meet the others' gaze with his unfocused eyes.

“You alright?” the large man asked gently, looking the jester up and down.

“Y-Yeah, I’m fine,” Thedrick lied, shrugging Beowulf’s hands from off his shoulders. The soldier removed his hands, reaching out to grab his helmet from the bar and putting it on, his worried gaze soon hidden under the metal.

“Well, this has been delightful, I hope we can do this again soon!” Thedrick announced cheerily before he started trying to walk towards the door, promptly stumbling and falling against a table. He gripped the edge of it with his gloved hands, trying to steady himself before making another attempt for the door. Thedrick tripped over his own feet and fell to the floor again, knocking the air out of his lungs, and he struggled to lift himself back up.

Once again, Thedrick felt Beowulf’s gauntlets grab him around the middle and lift him into the air effortlessly, his cheeks burning red with embarrassment. But instead of being set down on his feet again, the small jester was pulled up against the soldier’s broad chest.

Thedrick let out an indignant squeaking noise of confusion as Beowulf cradled him in his large arms against his chest. The jester moved his mouth to speak, but no words would come out.

“How many drinks did you have before I arrived, funny little man?” Beowulf asked with obvious humour in his tone.

“Uh… maybe this many,” Thedrick said sheepishly, holding up all ten fingers. Then he was thoughtful for a moment, before slowly putting down one finger, and smiling up at the soldier nervously.

“It seems you are in no state to walk back to the castle, so allow me to assist you,” Beowulf offered, the smile clear in his voice.

“Ah… th-there is really no need for that!” Thedrick objected, shrinking down in Beowulf’s arms while his heart rate increased.

“But I insist,” the soldier said in a manner that warranted no argument.

“O-Okay…” the jester squeaked out as he was carried out of the tavern, the large man almost having to crouch to squeeze out the door. Thedrick tried to shrink in on himself as Beowulf made his way up the street towards the castle; the jester glanced between the soldier’s helmet and the buildings around them, remaining mostly unusually silent during the journey.

By the time they were traversing the halls, Thedrick was struggling to maintain consciousness. Beowulf was trying to ask him where his room was, but the jester was having trouble responding in a comprehensible manner; he was confused about where he even was, the walls swimming around him. So, the soldier just asked one of the castle guards they went past. Thedrick glimpsed the confused look on the guard’s face as he pointed Beowulf in the right direction.

They finally made it to the jester’s room. It was quite small and unremarkable, the moonlight which streamed through the window illuminating a fairly large but simple bed. Beowulf carried Thedrick over and gently laid him down on the mattress.

But as he was being lowered down, Thedrick had reached up and wrapped his arms around Beowulf’s neck, and before the soldier could pull away, the jester had leaned up and planted a kiss on his visor. He then let go of Beowulf and collapsed onto the pillow in a fit of giggles.

The large man was frozen in place for a moment, before he slowly reached up and touched a gauntleted-hand against his visor, the spot Thedrick had kissed. Thedrick was grinning up at him stupidly before wriggling around on the bed to get comfy, as if he hadn’t just done anything weird or awkward.

“Goodnight, Thedrick,” Beowulf finally said as he straightened up to his full height.

“Thanks for getting me home safe, good sir,” Thedrick slurred, fighting the sleep that threatened to overcome him at any moment. “I hope to see you on the morrow…”

Beowulf nodded, then turned and walked for the door while Thedrick’s eyelids fluttered closed.