Chapter 6

Thedrick’s song had left Beowulf burning with embarrassment under his helmet for the rest of the evening after he retook his position behind the king’s chair. But that embarrassment coiling in his stomach was accompanied by a warm feeling spreading through his chest. The jester had made up a song about Beowulf to share with the king, and rather than it being overly silly, it was actually awfully sweet.

Now Beowulf found that he was even less able to pull his mind away from thoughts of the jester. Everything the little guy did was so endearing. Beowulf didn’t care about the chirurgeon’s warning relating to keeping Thedrick’s company, even though the soldier had already ended up taking an arrow for his trouble. Beowulf wanted to see Thedrick again as soon as possible, and he struggled to sleep as his mind was consumed with thoughts of being close to him.

The next morning Beowulf spent the time before his guard duty wandering the halls of the castle, searching for the jester. He didn’t even know what he was going to say once he found him, he was just acting upon the urge to. He reasoned in his mind that it was a good idea to get to know the layout of the castle more intimately anyway.

When Beowulf walked out into the courtyard, he noticed a small group of castle guards gathered around the fountain. Beowulf narrowed his eyebrows as he tried to see what they were doing while he walked towards them. He recognised at least two of the soldiers, the one in the middle of the group being the curly haired noble born Emil who had shot Beowulf with an arrow the day prior, and another was the sandy haired youth Landyn which Cassian had Beowulf fight in training.

Beowulf’s eyes suddenly went wide when he saw what Emil was holding in his gloved hands. It was a small black cat, who was writhing around in his grip, yowling as it attempted to escape his grasp. Beowulf picked up the pace as he strode toward the group, and soon he was in range to make out that the other two guards were urging Emil to dunk the cat in the water.

Soon Beowulf was behind the group, his shadow falling on the soldiers. He cleared his throat, which made all the guards jump slightly, and they all slowly turned around to face him, necks craning upwards as they looked up at his helmet.

“What do you think you are doing?” Beowulf growled lowly, and the men visibly paled.

“Uh… we were just…” Emil started trying to come up with an excuse, green eyes looking around nervously.

“Give me the cat,” Beowulf demanded, holding out his hands in front of him.

“Don’t you know black cats are bad luck to have around?” the soldier muttered but placed the frightened feline in Beowulf’s cupped gauntlets. The cat stopped struggling, and trembled instead, looking up at Beowulf nervously. Beowulf withdrew his hands, pulling the cat up against his chest and holding it there, stroking it gently with two fingers to comfort it.

“Says who?” Beowulf retorted, scowling at the man from under his helmet.

Emil shrugged. “They are apparently the familiars of evil witches and demons,” he said with a frown. “There are always heaps of them hanging around that creepy chirurgeon at the infirmary, and we’re all pretty sure he’s cursed them or something,” he finished with a huff, crossing his arms over his chest.

Beowulf noticed that the cat had calmed a little under his touch, seeming to somewhat relax in his arms. “What kind of coward tries to harm a poor defenceless animal?” Beowulf asked pointedly.

“Hey, calm down big guy, it’s just a cat,” Emil attempted to placate with raised hands, sounding a little anxious. “And uh, by the way, no hard feelings about yesterday, right? I mean, it was an accident, I didn’t mean to hit you, but still, I’m sorry about that,” the soldier explained, before offering out a gloved hand for Beowulf to shake.

Beowulf made no move to shake the offered hand, keeping his arms to himself still cradling the cat. “Why did you want to kill Thedrick?” Beowulf asked gruffly.

Emil let out a sound of frustration, withdrawing his hand. “I mean, who doesn’t? The jester has managed to piss off just about every soldier and guard around here with his insults and generally annoying nature,” he sounded very exasperated as he spoke, rolling his green eyes and pushing a chestnut curl from his face. “The better question is why did you protect him?”

“Because I dislike bullies.” Beowulf reached out one large hand to poke the smaller man in the chest, causing him to rock back slightly on his heels from the impact.

Emil scowled up at Beowulf while pushing the large hand away from his chest. “You’ve got it all wrong. The jester brings this all upon himself, he knows what he’s doing, and gets what he deserves. A little friendly advice, I’d keep my distance from him if I were you, lest you want to quickly make enemies.”

Beowulf made a scoffing noise. “Well Emil, I have a little friendly advice for you too,” Beowulf began in a threatening tone, “if you try to hurt Thedrick, or any of Balthasar’s cats, again, you’ll have to answer to me.”

Emil’s face paled slightly at this, though he quickly attempted to hide the anxiety in his expression. Then he held up his hands in surrender and smirked. “Turning everyone against you isn’t very smart, but what do I know,” he said smugly with a shrug.

“Is that your best attempt at intimidation?” Beowulf asked incredulously, looming over the three guards. The other two soldiers looked slightly more nervous than the leader of their little group.

“I think you got me all wrong, big guy. I am simply being considerate of your wellbeing,” Emil explained with another smirk.

“Thanks, but I don’t need your concern,” Beowulf said dismissively. “Now, if you’ll please excuse me,” he added, before stepping around the group and walking off across the courtyard, still holding the black cat. Beowulf felt like the eyes of the guards were boring into his back as he walked away from them, but he didn’t glance back at them.

Beowulf headed towards the infirmary, winding his way through the castle halls once more. He stepped into the room, eyes trying to adjust to the dim lighting. As things became clearer, he soon spotted the chirurgeon sitting in a chair at his desk, reading a book, just like the last time they had met.

Beowulf approached him, catching Balthasar’s attention, who glanced up at him with a tired look and a raised eyebrow.

“Been shot again?” Balthasar asked cynically in his sharp accent.

Beowulf shook his head. “I had to rescue this little guy from some castle guards who were trying to hurt it,” he explained, holding out the cat towards Balthasar.

Balthasar’s eyes widened at first, and then his eyebrows drew together in a deep scowl, with accompanying frown as he reached out and took the offered feline. “Which guards? When I next see Cassian, I’m going to give him a piece of my mind about this. Can’t keep his own damn men under control,” the chirurgeon snapped angrily, pulling the cat into his lap and stroking its fur.

“The ringleader was Emil, and Landyn was there too. I don’t know the name of the third, most of the soldiers don’t really interact with me…” Beowulf tried not to let any melancholy into his voice with the last part.

Balthasar nodded sharply. “Thank you for what you did… I’m glad you’re not like their lot,” he muttered in appreciation, before turning his eyes down to his cat, who was purring and rubbing its face against his shirt.

“By the way… have you seen Thedrick around?” Beowulf asked as casually as he was able.

“Not since last night,” Balthasar said without even looking up.

“Wh… What was he doing in here last night?” Beowulf asked, worried the jester may have been left worse for wear from the fall onto his head from Beowulf’s shoulder the previous evening.

“He was ranting and raving and carrying on,” Balthasar explained in a long-suffering tone.

“About what?” Beowulf couldn’t help but pry, his curiosity getting the better of him.

“About you of course!” Balthasar scoffed, finally looking up at the soldier. “He’s obsessed! ’Beowulf is so handsome and strong, and I want him to hold me in his big strong arms!’” Balthasar quoted in a high-pitched mocking voice, then made a face of disgust.

“R-Really? Did he really say that?” Beowulf couldn’t help his own voice slightly rising in register with eagerness.

“Yes, it was really rather annoying, I had half a mind just to kick him out of here,” Balthasar had turned his gaze down at the cat again for a moment, but suddenly his eyes widened. “Wait… he hasn’t told you that’s how he feels?” the chirurgeon asked incredulously.

Beowulf shrugged. “He hadn’t exactly said those sorts of things…” he said quietly, feeling a little embarrassed. “Do you know where he might be?” he decided to try and ask instead.

“Where who might be?” a voice called out from behind Beowulf, and he turned to see Thedrick standing halfway between him and the door.

“You,” Balthasar said before Beowulf could say anything. Beowulf felt his cheeks flush, the embarrassment hidden under his helmet. Thedrick had made his way over to them, and hopped up on the desk, grinning up at Beowulf while he swung his legs back and forth. Balthasar sighed.

“You came here looking for me?” Thedrick said cheerily, raising his pale eyebrows at Beowulf.

“We-Well actually I saved one of Balthasar’s cats from some mean guards, and I was bringing it back to him,” Beowulf explained nervously, trying to save face.

Thedrick’s expression changed to surprise. “Another act of chivalry from the great Beowulf! We’ll make a knight of you yet!” Thedrick teased with a cheeky grin up at Beowulf, which made the large soldier blush harder.

“I just… did the right thing,” Beowulf mumbled shyly, looking away. “I told them firmly to leave the cats, and you, alone, though they warned me about making enemies…”

Thedrick suddenly jumped to his feet on the desk, turning to Beowulf and reaching out to grab him by the arms. “You defended me once more?” he asked excitedly, his red eyes sparkling. He took one hand off Beowulf’s arm and rested the back of his hand against his forehead, leaning backwards slightly. “Swoon!” he said in an over exaggerated manner as he pretended to do just that.

Beowulf attempted to keep a straight face and not laugh, while he noticed that Balthasar was rolling his eyes. “Do I get a reward for defending your honour? Perhaps you could buy me another drink?” he asked playfully, resisting the urge to scoop the little jester up into his arms.

“Good lord can you two take it outside!” Balthasar exclaimed, making a face of disgust.

Beowulf wasn’t expecting Thedrick to jump into his arms, throwing himself at the soldier’s chest and wrapping his arms around his neck. “Quickly, we must escape! He gets scary when he’s annoyed,” Thedick said as Beowulf wrapped his arms around his small frame to support him.

Beowulf grinned under his helmet and turned to quickly stride out of the room carrying the jester who was having a fit of giggles in his arms, leaving the grumbling chirurgeon behind them as they left.

“My hero!” Thedrick exclaimed brightly once they had stepped out into the hallway, relaxing against the soldier’s arms and grinning up at him cheekily.

“Hey, wait, what was your reason for visiting the infirmary again?” Beowulf asked as he set the small man down on his feet. “Did we leave before you got what you needed?”

Thedrick blinked up at him in confusion. “O-Oh! Ha, I was simply bored and looking to annoy Baz, as usual,” the jester explained with a smirk.

“Baz?” Beowulf asked, cocking his head slightly.

“Oh no, don’t ever call him that, he’ll probably kill you for it!” Thedrick exclaimed, and Beowulf would have taken it as another joke if the jester’s smile hadn’t fallen away and he appeared to be serious.

“Ah, okay,” Beowulf said with a nod of understanding. “By the way, how about that drink later on?” he prompted, trying not to come off as overly eager. Even if he now knew about Thedrick’s feelings for him, he was still a little embarrassed about his own.

“Of course! See you at the tavern this evening?” Thedrick asked, a smile returning to his face.

Beowulf nodded again, grinning to himself. “I’ll see you then, I have to complete my guard duty first,” he explained, despite his heart not wanting to spend a moment away from the jester.

Thedrick nodded in understanding. “Don’t keep me waiting too long, big guy,” he said before waving up at the soldier and turning to skip away down the hallway.

Beowulf waved back before he turned himself and started striding away, glancing back to see the jester had paused and was watching him leave. Beowulf turned back and continued on, heading off towards where he was stationed for the day.

Once again, guard duty was a plentiful opportunity to think about the jester, as it wasn’t like anything ever happened. The hours went by so slowly as Beowulf awaited the end of his shift. When he was relieved, he rushed away as fast as possible, heading straight out of the castle and into town without a second thought.

Beowulf made a beeline to the tavern he had met Thedrick at before, squeezing in through the small doorway and looking around the room for him once again. This time he spotted the jester sitting at a small table, waving at him. Beowulf smiled to himself as he headed over, sitting down in the small chair while hoping it wouldn’t break as it groaned under his weight. A tankard full of beer was already sitting in front of him, and a smaller, half finished one in front of Thedrick.

Beowulf reached up and took off his helmet, placing it down on the table next to him before running a gauntleted hand through his freed hair. He smiled at Thedrick when he noticed the jester was looking at his face with slight awe, pale cheeks slightly colouring when he saw the smile.

“Good to see you’re not getting into trouble here without me this time,” Beowulf joked, grabbing up the tankard and taking a swig of the refreshing drink.

“Me? Trouble? Never!” Thedrick claimed, feigning offence.

“Of course, how dare I imply such,” Beowulf said with a chuckle, taking another sip. “And I bet this is also only your first drink?” he nodded towards the half-finished drink.

“Y-Yeah, of course! Cause the other three didn’t count, you see,” the jester explained with a nervous laugh.

“Of course, of course,” Beowulf said with a nod and a smirk. “By the way, I liked your performance for the king last night, you’re very good at jokes,” Beowulf decided to try and start the conversation properly.

“You like my jokes?” Thedrick said with wide eyed sincerity, looking up at Beowulf almost piteously. “Usually only the king and queen like them…”

Beowulf nodded in affirmation. “And I liked your song too, even though it felt a little embarrassing to be at the centre of attention…” he added with an awkward smile.

“Please, you’re going to make me blush,” Thedrick implored as he pushed a stray piece of hair from his face, clearly already blushing.

“You have a lovely singing voice,” Beowulf pressed on, watching in delight as the smaller man squirmed under his gaze.

“Ha ha, do you enjoy music?” Thedrick asked, obviously trying to deflect his embarrassment.

“Well, I haven’t had a lot of chances to hear music before, mostly at the fair each year,” Beowulf explained plainly.

“I shall have to play the lute for you sometime!” Thedrick exclaimed eagerly.

Beowulf nodded in agreement. “I should very much enjoy that,” he said. There was a moment of silence between them, while they both took swigs of their drinks, Thedrick struggling to maintain eye contact. Beowulf decided to break the silence with another topic, to hopefully put the jester at ease. “So, how did you and Balthasar become friends? Are you close?”

Thedrick’s eyes widened, and he looked more awkward for a moment. “Well, you know, since I get beat up so much I ended up in the infirmary a fair many times, ‘more than is funny’ according to Balthasar,” Thedrick explained.

“It just seems like a rather odd friendship, given he seems so humourless,” Beowulf pointed out.

Surprisingly, Thedrick seems to bristle at that comment, upper body tense and both of his palms pressed against the wood of the table as if he wanted to rise to his feet to defend his friend. “He’s,” he started quite forcefully, but then paused, and continued more quietly, “He’s one of the few people who are nice to me, so I like hanging out with him.”

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to insult him,” Beowulf said apologetically, brows knitting.

“No no… it’s fine, you’re fine…” Thedrick said awkwardly, rubbing the back of his neck as he looked away from the soldier.

Both of them finished off their drinks. Beowulf felt his stomach complaining. “I could really use something to eat, have you eaten yet?” he asked the jester to break the awkward silence once more.

Thedrick looked a little surprised at the question. “Oh, uh, yes, I’ve already eaten earlier, but I’d be happy to shout you a meal along with another drink,” he said, pulling out the coin purse he had earned from the king the previous evening.

Thedrick went up to the bar and ordered food and fresh drinks to be brought to their table, before returning to Beowulf. They started talking some more and managed to fall into some more comfortable conversation while they waited. Once the food was delivered Beowulf became quieter as he ate, listening as Thedrick continued to drink and tell him a story that may or may not have been true, fantastical as it was in its nature.

As the jester became more relaxed again, he began to insert more jokes, wit and puns into the conversation, leading Beowulf to soon be overcome with raucous laughter which caused him to nearly choke on his food. Thedrick’s smile grew wider and wider, his eyes brighter and expression more animated as he went on and drank more and more alcohol.

Once Beowulf finished his food he sat back in the rather uncomfortably small chair as much as he could, smiling at Thedrick who had gotten to his feet to act out an exciting tale for Beowulf. When the jester realised what he was doing his face flushed and he took a seat awkwardly again. Beowulf chuckled, and Thedrick smiled back at him with both his mouth and his eyes.

“Thank you for treating me, Thedrick, this was very pleasant,” Beowulf said, knowing it was starting to get late as the tavern had started to feel a bit emptier.

“Oh, of course, anything for my valiant hero who saved me from being skewered by an arrow,” Thedrick said with a dismissive wave of his hand. “In fact, I wish there was more I could do to demonstrate my gratitude, this doesn’t feel like a lot of reparations considering you were hurt because of me,” he added with a shrug.

“Well, how about a kiss for the hero?” Beowulf asked jokingly, tapping a finger against his cheek while smiling.

Thedrick stared at him in shock, his smile having suddenly fallen away. Then suddenly he scrambled over the table towards the soldier, which took Beowulf by surprise. Soon the jester was hurling himself at Beowulf, throwing his arms around the soldier’s neck and crashing his mouth into Beowulf’s own.

Beowulf flinched; his whole body went rigid as Thedrick kissed him. Then he slowly wrapped his arms around the jester whose body was pressed up against his, kneeling in his lap. Beowulf started kissing the little man back gently, while Thedrick was burying his gloved fingers into Beowulf’s blonde hair at the back of his neck.