Chapter 10

Beowulf had been hesitating outside the door to the infirmary for several minutes. He had come here for a reason, he had planned to speak to Thedrick because he knew this was where the jester was hiding from him, but now that he was here Beowulf’s resolve had faltered. He remembered the look of Thedrick’s face the last time he had seen him a few days ago, the expression of absolute genuine terror. Beowulf knew if he went in then that was probably the way Thedrick would look at him again, that he would scare the jester with just his presence. He must be terrified of Beowulf to stay hidden away for so long.

Of course, Thedrick’s fear was entirely Beowulf’s fault, and well warranted. Beowulf had tried to kill the small man, and had he caught Thedrick before he reached the protection of Balthasar, the soldier probably would have gone through with it. In that moment Beowulf had thought he was doing the right thing, and it had all seemed so simple and straightforward to him.

He had all but fully confirmed that Thedrick was a vampire with his various tests, proving his mother right. And Beowulf’s understanding was that vampires were evil, which was supported by his mother when he had gone back to see her after he started to believe what she had said about the jester. She had pushed the wooden stake into his hands and reassured him that the creature needed to be destroyed.

It was Beowulf’s job, after all, to keep the king and queen and the people of their kingdom safe, and a vampire was a threat that needed to be dealt with. His mission to destroy that threat was righteous, or so he had thought. He had spent a good while psyching himself up, strengthening his determination and preparing himself for any mind tricks or manipulation that the vampire might use against him to weaken his resolve. Beowulf had conditioned himself into not thinking of Thedrick as a person, but as a monster, and pushing to the side the feelings he had been developing for the jester.

But everything Beowulf had thought had been shattered by Balthasar’s stalwart protection of the ‘evil’ creature. The chirurgeon’s forthright and logical arguments had caught the soldier off-guard, causing Beowulf’s determination to waver, and snapped him out of the hunting frenzy he had been sucked into. The way the vampire had clung to Balthasar like a scared child had dumbfounded Beowulf, and then the way Thedrick had looked at the soldier with such fear had struck his heart with unexpected pain.

Beowulf had plenty of time since then to consider all that Balthasar said, rethink his whole understanding of the situation, and for that image of Thedrick’s terrified face to haunt him. Now that he wasn’t driven by obsession to expose Thedrick’s true nature and then ‘destroy the evil’, he could actually slow down and think things through properly.

And, during this time, Beowulf was confused to find himself missing the jester. He tried to shake those thoughts away, to remind himself of what Thedrick was, but they kept coming back to him unbidden. His mind would wander back to the moments of holding the little jester in his arms, of kissing him tenderly, and his heart ached.

Time to think did a lot for Beowulf’s ability to accept this new information about Thedrick, and to realise what he had done. Thedrick may be a vampire, but he was still very much a person, clearly not some mindless monster. Beowulf had gone from holding him gently one moment to trying to kill him the next, with the jester not having done anything to deserve being treated like that except existing. What Beowulf had done was actually terrible, despite what Thedrick was, and he started to feel rather guilty about it.

Thedrick was a vampire, but if Balthasar was to be believed, he hadn’t hurt anyone nor was he going to in the future. The chirurgeon was handling the jester’s condition, and Thedrick was just trying to live a relatively normal life without anyone finding out about his secret and trying to kill him for it. But now he was hiding away in the infirmary, terrified that Beowulf might attempt to murder him again. It was up to Beowulf to properly apologise and try and make amends for what he had done.

Beowulf finally rallied his courage and reached for the infirmary door, pushing it gently open and slowly stepping into the room. He saw a quick glimpse of Thedrick staring at him in wide eyed shock from where he was seated on one of the beds before the jester was scrambling off the mattress and fell to the floor in his panic. Beowulf winced slightly under his helmet, and he carefully stepped further into the room, heading towards the bed.

The soldier glanced over at Balthasar’s desk, seeing the chirurgeon giving him a steely glare as he slowly started to get to his feet. Beowulf looked back at the bed, seeing the jester's hat poking up from behind it, his red eyes only just peeking over the mattress to watch Beowulf’s approach with intense fear. There was a light jingling sound as the bells on Thedrick’s costume were shaken as his body trembled.

“What are you doing here?” Balthasar asked very firmly, causing Beowulf to come to a halt a few steps away from the bed Thedrick was hiding behind. He turned his attention to the chirurgeon, who had come out from behind his desk and was giving Beowulf a warning look as he approached the soldier. 

“I… I came to apologise again…” Beowulf explained timidly, almost shrinking under the chirurgeon’s burning gaze.

“Yeah? Well great job so far, you are scaring the absolute shit out of him, well done,” Balthasar said, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “How about you try taking your helmet off first, at least?” the chirurgeon suggested with a roll of his eyes.

“Ah, yes, right,” Beowulf stuttered awkwardly, and reached up to pull his helmet off, tucking it under one arm. He noticed Balthasar’s eyebrows rise in mild surprise and remembered the chirurgeon hadn’t seen him without his helmet before now. Beowulf looked back over at Thedrick, who had raised a bit more of his face over the edge of the mattress and didn’t seem to be trembling as much as before. 

Beowulf stepped over to the bed and knelt down beside it, on the opposite side of the mattress from Thedrick, to try and put the two of them more of the same level, while keeping an object and some distance between them. Beowulf gave the jester a half-hearted smile, while Thedrick eyed him with suspicion, looking ready to flee.

“Thedrick… I’m sorry for trying to kill you, my actions were completely unjustified, you hadn’t even done anything wrong,” Beowulf started to apologise. “And I promise I will not try to do it again, so you don’t have to hide away in here anymore. And I know that you are scared of me now, so I will try to keep out of your way as much as possible.”

Thedrick looked very unsure for a moment before he spoke in a quiet voice. “Do you hate me?”

Beowulf was slightly taken aback by the question. “Do I hate you? Well… I thought I did… but I was mostly lying to myself because I thought it would make it easier to kill you… which I thought I had to do,” Beowulf tried to explain awkwardly. “But no… I don’t hate you Thedrick. But I would understand if you hated me now.”

“I mean I probably should but… I don’t hate you,” Thedrick said softly, then slowly stood up while avoiding eye contact. “But I am a little afraid of you still… please Beowulf, don’t ever do anything like that again, I was so scared!” The jester’s voice rose in volume from distress, and Beowulf could see tears forming in the corners of his eyes.

“I won’t, I’m sorry Thedrick,” Beowulf said quickly and started getting to his feet himself, suddenly overwhelmed with the desire to comfort the jester. As the soldier rose to his full height, however, he noticed Thedrick recoil in fear, eyes widening. “Please Thedrick, I promise I’m not going to hurt you,” Beowulf tried to reassure, placing his helmet down on the bed and raising his hands in surrender.

But Thedrick already had tears rolling down his cheeks, staring up at the soldier in fear while his body seemed to be frozen in place. Beowulf slowly stepped around the bed towards the jester, noticing that Thedrick had started to tremble and was breathing quickly. Beowulf could see Balthasar in his peripheral vision, looking like he was about to try and intervene.

Beowulf gave in to his instincts and quickly closed the distance between himself and Thedrick, reaching out to pick up the terrified jester and pulling him against his chest, wrapping his large arms around Thedrick’s tiny frame. Thedrick gasped in shock, then started to cry, soon pressing his face into Beowulf’s chest as he was held. Beowulf looked up and saw Balthasar had taken a few steps towards them but had stopped, though was watching Beowulf carefully with suspicion. 

“Thedrick, I still care about you, but I know after what I did, I don’t even deserve your forgiveness… and sorry for this, I didn’t mean to scare you, I just wanted to comfort you so badly…” Beowulf tried to explain clumsily, moving the jester slightly so he was gently cradling him, trying to look down at his face with worry.

Thedrick just kept sobbing and trying to hide his face by turning it downwards. He didn’t struggle in Beowulf’s arms or anything, but his body was still shaking. Beowulf made shushing sounds and gave apologies and simple words of reassurance that he would never try to hurt him again, gently squeezing the jester as he held him.

While Thedrick was calming down, Beowulf noticed Balthasar take a few more steps towards them, glaring intensely at Beowulf. He pointed an accusing finger at the soldier while scowling deeply. “If you ever try to hurt him again, I will show you pain and suffering the likes of which you never knew were possible,” the chirurgeon’s voice was dripping with venom. Then before Beowulf could respond Balthasar turned and stalked back over to his desk, took a seat, and proceeded to continue to glare at Beowulf menacingly with his arms crossed over his chest.

Thedrick mumbled something into Beowulf’s chest, causing the soldier to return his attention to him. “What was that Thedrick?” Beowulf asked gently.

“I… I don’t understand why… but even though you tried to kill me… I missed you…” Thedrick mumbled between sniffles, rubbing at his eyes with his hands. “I wanted you to come back… even though I was scared you’d try to kill me again…”

“Perhaps, you would give me a chance to rebuild your trust in me?” Beowulf asked carefully, trying not to get his hopes up. Beowulf took a seat on the bed, lowering Thedrick down until the jester was seated in his lap, though with Beowulf's large arms still wrapped around him.

“You… you could let me feed off you?” Thedrick suddenly blurted out, looking up at Beowulf with huge, pleading eyes.

Beowulf was shocked by the request, which left him speechless for a moment as he stared down at Thedrick’s face in disbelief. Thedrick had his mouth slightly open, and Beowulf could see two fangs pointing up from his lower jaw, and one from his upper jaw on his right-hand side. Beowulf didn’t remember those being there before, surely he would have noticed them, especially when they were kissing. He had to stop himself from flinching away and try not to betray his emotions on his face.

“I… I, um, I’m uh not sure how I feel about… that… ah…” Beowulf stammered nervously, his words jumbling up like his thoughts as he tried to find a way to excuse himself.

Thedrick’s hopeful expression fell away quickly. “Oh… I’m sorry… of course… I apologise, it’s just your blood smells so good and I’ve wanted to drink it so badly ever since I met you… oh fuck that probably doesn’t help, I’m sorry.” The jester ducked his head like he was trying to hide in shame.

“It… it’s okay, I just need some time just to even get used to the idea that you are… a…” Beowulf swallowed deeply, hesitant to say it, “a vampire. It’s kind of… a lot to take in…”

“Ah, right,” Thedrick acknowledged, lifting his head slightly again. “Can I ask… what was it that gave me away?”

Beowulf grimaced slightly. “My mother said you were one… I didn’t believe her at first. I didn't want to believe her. But then I saw your eyes glowing in the dark one night, so I tried to find out the truth with some… experiments,” Beowulf admitted with some embarrassment, glancing away from Thedrick. “You were averse to garlic and prayer beads…”

“Oh gods, is that what the garlic bread was about?” Thedrick asked, looking up at Beowulf in surprise. Then he shook his head. “I… I just don’t like garlic, that has nothing to do with me being a vampire! And the prayer beads, well, I’m not religious, it was such a confusing gift… but they wouldn’t have hurt me or anything…” Thedrick let out a half-hearted chuckle. “Wait… the water… was that…?”

“Blessed water…” Beowulf reluctantly admitted, feeling his cheeks burning slightly as Thedrick laughed some more at that.

“Well, obviously that did nothing to me! And as I said while you were trying to kill me, you have seen me out in the sun before!” Thedrick exclaimed, gesturing with his hands now. “Your case against me was pretty weak… you were only correct through sheer luck…”

“H-How are you able to go out in the sun?” Beowulf asked with confusion. This was something he had been trying to figure out since it was confirmed Thedrick was a vampire. “I thought that at least was a key part of being a vampire?”

“Well… I’m only half vampire,” Thedrick admitted with a shrug. “My mother was a human… I mean, my skin is still pretty sensitive though, I can burn quickly in the sun.”

“Oh… so you are half human?” Beowulf asked in wonder. He knew vampires were a separate species of humanoid creature, but unlike something such as elves, he hadn’t heard of half breed vampires.

Thedrick nodded. “That might be why most of the vampire lore doesn’t apply to me… or it’s just all a load of bullshit, I’ve never met any other vampires to find out,” he explained with another shrug.

“Can you… turn into a bat?” Beowulf asked, despite feeling embarrassed about the question.

Thedrick barked out a laugh. “No!” he said with a grin, and Beowulf noticed the fangs had disappeared. “I don’t get any cool powers apart from night vision. Just an inability to digest food and a reliance on blood and it… kind of sucks…” his sentence ended rather morosely. “I… I’m not evil, I promise,” Thedrick looked up at Beowulf beseechingly, his smile having fallen away.

“I know, I’m sorry I assumed you were,” Beowulf apologised again, gently stroking Thedrick’s back with one hand.

“I mean, look at me!” Thedrick exclaimed, throwing his arms up in the air slightly in emphasis. “I’m tiny! How am I supposed to hurt anyone?”

Beowulf felt a little stupid for thinking the jester could pose a danger to anyone. “Well… I thought vampires had like, charm spells, to bend mortals to their will…” Beowulf tried to defend himself.

“What, aren’t I charming enough already?” Thedrick quipped quickly, pouting up at Beowulf.

Beowulf couldn’t help it, he let out a short laugh at that. “Well, obviously you are if you don’t have any magic. I thought that maybe you had charmed me, and soon you would be feasting on my blood…”

“Gods I wish…” Thedrick mused, and startled suddenly when he saw the slightly horrified look Beowulf was giving him. “Sorry, sorry… I just get so hungry…”

Beowulf gave the jester a gentle pat on the head. “Don’t worry, I’m not mad… just a little unsettled…” Beowulf tried to reassure, though it didn’t seem to improve Thedrick’s mood much. “Is Balthasar the only one who knows? … oh gods, what am I going to tell ma…”

Thedrick looked up at Beowulf with slight fear again. “Yes, only you and Baz know, please don’t tell anyone! Just, just tell her that you were wrong! I’ll be good I swear,” Thedrick pleaded in a panicked tone.

“Hey, it’s okay, I won’t tell anyone I promise,” Beowulf reassured quickly. “I can try and convince ma that she’s wrong… I just hope that she will listen.”

“Thank you,” Thedrick breathed with a sigh, body relaxing slightly. “And… uh… you don’t really have to stay away from me so as to not scare me… in fact I'd rather have you close… li-like this…” the jester stumbled through the sentence very awkwardly and clearly embarrassed.

“You won’t be scared about me trying to hurt you?” Beowulf asked carefully, raising an eyebrow.

Thedrick squirmed slightly under his gaze. “Ah… well… Balthasar will probably call me a fool for wanting to trust you again so quickly but… being a fool is my job after all,” Thedrick said with slight humour while avoiding eye contact.

“So, you still have feelings for me, even after what I did?” Beowulf asked bluntly, watching Thedrick’s expression with suspicion.

Thedrick froze up at this. “W-Well! L-Look… you’ve been so nice to me, what happened didn’t really feel like you. And n-now you’re… holding me here in your lap… and my heart is racing, and I can hear your blood rushing through your veins…” Thedrick quickly covered his mouth after that came out.

Beowulf frowned slightly. “So, the only reason you were interested in me is because of my blood?” the soldier asked huffily, trying not to feel too offended.

“No! It’s not like that!” Thedrick exclaimed panickedly. “I like you for many reasons… you’re very handsome and kind and strong… the blood is just a little part of it maybe… I’m sorry I can’t help it…” the jester sighed in defeat.

Beowulf felt his heart soften at that. He couldn’t deny that he still had feelings for Thedrick as well, fairly clear from the fact he had scooped the little jester into his arms to comfort him and had held him throughout their entire conversation. He was still a cute little funny guy, despite his apparent intense desire to feast on Beowulf’s blood that he had been hiding up until this point.

Beowulf moved his hand up and cupped Thedrick’s chin, tilting his face up to look at Beowulf’s. Thedrick looked anxious and uncertain but didn’t try to pull away. Then the soldier lowered his head down until he pressed his lips against the jester’s, his hand moving away from his chin and around to hold the back of his head. Beowulf kissed him softly for a few moments before breaking away and smiling gently down at Thedrick’s flushed face.

“Ugh. I appreciate the fact that you two are making amends, but could you perhaps do that somewhere a bit more private?” The sound of Balthasar’s voice caused Beowulf to look up and over at the desk, where the chirurgeon sat with a look of disgust on his face. Beowulf felt more heat rushing to his cheeks in embarrassment.

Beowulf was about to open his mouth to apologise when Thedrick suddenly spoke up. “What, jealous because you aren’t getting any, old man?” the jester teased as he sat up in Beowulf’s lap, leaning towards Balthasar’s desk.

The chirurgeon grimaced. “I assure you I have no desire to be ‘getting’ any of that.”

“That’s a lie!” Thedrick exclaimed as he hopped down off Beowulf’s lap. “I have seen the way you look at Cass!” the jester pointed an accusing finger at Balthasar.

Balthasar glared at Thedrick with wide eyed surprise and anger, then pushed back his chair as he quickly stood. “Get out of my infirmary!” he growled, pointing at the door.

“So, it’s true then? You didn’t deny it!” Thedrick pressed while Beowulf also got to his feet and grabbed up his helmet to put back on.

“Thedrick…” Balthasar started in a low and dangerous tone, “leave right now before I cut out your tongue and put it in a jar on my shelf.”

“Come on, let’s go,” Beowulf encouraged Thedrick in a soft tone, putting a hand against his back and gently pushing him towards the door. The jester poked his tongue out at Balthasar and winked as he was pushed away. Beowulf quickly glanced back over his shoulder to see the chirurgeon seething.