Chapter 7

Beowulf’s lips were soft against Thedrick’s, and being gently held here in the big man’s lap was all the jester could have wanted. The soldier’s massive hands rested against Thedrick’s back, holding him in place as they kissed, while Thedrick’s fingers tangled into Beowulf’s hair.

Eventually Thedrick managed to pull out of the kiss, lowering himself into a sitting position on Beowulf’s lap and looking up at the soldier nervously. “Oh gods, I, I’m sorry, I may have gotten a little carried away there,” he tried to excuse himself, feeling embarrassment coiling inside him.

Beowulf smiled down at him warmly, and then slowly removed his hands from Thedrick’s back to move them around to cup the jester’s face in them instead. Thedrick’s eyes widened in surprise as the soldier leaned down and closed his eyes as he pressed his lips against Thedrick’s again. Thedrick quickly melted into the kiss, his own eyes also closing again.

When eventually Beowulf pulled away again, he looked down at the jester affectionately. “How are you so small…” he mumbled as he used his thumb to push a stray lock of hair from Thedrick’s face.

Thedrick felt his cheeks burning under the large hands. “B-Because I didn’t eat my greens?” Thedrick joked apprehensively, trying not to squirm under the soldier’s gaze.

“You are so adorable, funny little man,” Beowulf murmured as he stroked Thedrick’s bruised cheeks.

Thedrick felt like his heart was in his throat, he wanted to look away in embarrassment, but the soldier was holding his face firmly in place so that the jester was looking up at him. Thedrick bet he was probably looking as red as a beetroot right now. He opened his mouth to try and speak, but the words died in his throat.

Beowulf chuckled at the flustered jester, which made Thedrick pull his mouth into a wobbly grin. Then he sighed, and half closed his eyes, pressing his cheek up against the large hand stroking it. A look of satisfaction crossed Beowulf’s face. A low grumbling sound started emanating deep within Thedrick’s throat.

Beowulf’s expression changed to surprise. “Are you… are you purring?” the soldier asked in disbelief.

Thedrick’s eyes opened wide and he froze, his whole body stiffening and the sound dying in his throat. “N-No?” he said quickly in a croaky voice. “What do you mean?”

“I heard a rumbling sound coming from here,” Beowulf said, removing one hand from the jester’s face to press a finger against Thedrick’s chest.

“No no, most certainly not, that’s ridiculous, I don’t know what you are talking about,” Thedrick claimed anxiously, trying to pull his face out of Beowulf’s grip now. Beowulf let him go, and Thedrick leaned away slightly from the soldier.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to embarrass you about it,” Beowulf apologised solemnly, resting his hands in his lap in front of Thedrick.

“Ha ha, but there’s nothing to be embarrassed about because I certainly wasn’t doing… whatever it was you think I was doing…” Thedrick dismissed nervously as he looked away awkwardly. “A-Anyway, I, uh, I really have to be going now,” he said as he started climbing down off Beowulf’s lap.

“Oh?” Beowulf said with palpable disappointment.

“Yeah, uh, it’s not because of you though! I’m… not feeling so great after all those drinks,” Thedrick explained as he straightened up, still not even reaching equal height with the seated Beowulf. “This was great, and the… and the kiss was great. I hope we can do it again sometime. Th-The drinking, I mean… though the kissing would be nice too…” he broke off awkwardly as the burning in his cheeks was renewed.

Beowulf looked like he was trying not to laugh. “I enjoyed it as well,” he said with a smile.

“Wh-Which part?” Thedrick asked with beseeching eyes as he worried his hands in front of himself. “The drinking or the… the kissing…?”

“Both!” Beowulf said with a chuckle, eyes sparkling with amusement.

“Y-Yes of course!” Thedrick nodded quickly. “So, I’ll s-see you tomorrow!” he quickly spun on his heels and stumbled off towards the door as fast as he could without falling over. He heard Beowulf call out something about walking him back to the castle, but Thedrick was already rushing out the door.

Thedrick staggered onto the street, and then quickly took off towards the castle before the soldier could catch up with him. His face was burning with red hot embarrassment as he climbed up the streets, trying to focus on keeping his balance. Drinking so much on an empty stomach had maybe not been the best plan, but it also wasn’t out of the ordinary.

But when Thedrick reached the castle, he didn’t head straight for his room. Instead, he wound his way through the familiar halls until he reached the infirmary. The hour was late, but the jester paid that no mind, pushing open the door and stumbling into the room.

“Baz holy fuck!” he exclaimed as he entered the room, which was dimly illuminated by wall sconces and candles.

Balthasar was standing behind his desk, staring at Thedrick with wide eyes, which soon narrowed with annoyance. “What are you doing here at this hour?” the chirurgeon asked testily, putting something down on the desk he had been holding.

“I kissed him!” Thedrick announced as he wobbled further into the room, towards Balthasar. “And he kissed me!” The jester had his hands clasped into fists held close to his chest as he looked up at his friend eagerly.

Balthasar made an expression of disgust, and then sighed and pinched his nose above his glasses. “Good for you, Thedrick,” he said begrudgingly.

“And now I’m drunk, and hungry. Can you give me some food Baz?” the jester asked with a pleading look.

Balthasar let out a groan. “I gave you some last night!” the chirurgeon grumbled with exasperation.

Thedrick put on his best begging look. “Pleeeaassee?” he whined pathetically; hands clasped in front of him.

Balthasar rolled his eyes. “Fine, fine, if you’ll stop looking like a kicked puppy,” he said with a frown, while Thedrick smiled eagerly instead.

****

Thedrick was dragged from his pleasant sleep by a knock at the door to his room. Wincing, he cracked his eyes open, blinking in the light which already filled the room from the windows. Thedrick let out a long groan as he pushed himself up and out of the bed, padding over to the door wearing nothing but his undergarments, his hair a complete mess.

“Do you have any idea how early this is?” he grumbled in irritation after opening the door slightly, even knowing full well it was likely nearing the middle of the day by now. “Oh…” was the next thing to come out of his mouth when he finally looked up to see who it was.

“Oh? Is this a bad time?” the towering, armoured man asked apprehensively, wringing his hands together in front of him.

“Oh, Wulfy! It’s never a bad time for you!” Thedrick quickly amended, leaning against the doorframe as he looked up at Beowulf, completely oblivious to how much of a mess he looked.

“W-Wulfy?” Beowulf’s confusion was clear in his voice, despite his hidden face.

“What are you doing here?” Thedrick asked cheerily, ignoring Beowulf’s puzzlement about the nickname.

“Oh, well, I was looking around for you but couldn’t find you anywhere, so I thought I’d try here,” the soldier explained awkwardly. “Well, actually, I asked Balthasar, and he said something like ‘stop bothering me about the clown’ and ‘he’s probably in his room’.”

“What do you want with yours truly?” Thedrick asked slyly, smirking up at the soldier. “Looking for an encore of last night?”

Beowulf seemed to stiffen slightly and glanced away for a moment. “M-Maybe…” he said, sounding embarrassed.

Thedrick’s expression changed to surprise, heat rushing to his cheeks. He ran a hand through his wild mess of pale hair, trying to think of a response.

“I- I mean, I would like to spend more time with you. Like, you know, when I’m off duty,” Beowulf clarified, looking down at Thedrick as beseechingly as one can with their face covered.

“O-Of course!” Thedrick said quickly, smiling awkwardly. “Let me just get dressed… unless you wanted to come in?”

“A-Alright,” Beowulf choked out, and followed Thedrick into his room, closing the door behind him.

“I won’t be a moment,” Thedrick said as he waltzed over to the chair he had thrown his outfit over. As he started pulling on his clothes, he glanced back over at Beowulf, who was standing very awkwardly, trying to look anywhere but in his direction. Soon however Thedrick was fully clothed, and back to jingling with every movement.

“You look like you’ve been trampled by a horse…” Thedrick heard Beowulf say quietly.

“Hey, I thought you said I was handsome!” Thedrick exclaimed dramatically, pouting and crossing his arms over his chest as he approached the soldier again.

“Oh! I’m sorry, I just meant the bruises all over your body,” Beowulf exclaimed abashedly. “I still think you’re good looking…”

Thedrick shrugged as he uncrossed his arms. “Well… maybe I have been trampled by a horse… drawn wagon… and fallen down the stairs… and off the roof…” he started to explain hesitantly, “and chased by a pack of starving wolves through the forest… and struck by lightning… on three separate occasions…” he was counting off on his fingers now, “tied to the back of a horse and dragged across the city… tied to a large kite and thrown off a cliff…”

“Are you serious?” The dismay in Beowulf’s voice was clearly evident.

Thedrick nodded and frowned. “Y-Yeah? I’m just… a little unlucky…” he said softly, looking away while rubbing one of his arms absent-mindedly.

“If even half of all that is true, I must ask once more: how are you still alive?” Beowulf asked, his voice rising slightly in distress.

Thedrick shrugged again, with an overexaggerated frown. “Guess I’m also very lucky at the same time,” he offered, turning up the corner of his mouth in a humourless smile.

Suddenly Beowulf took a few steps towards Thedrick, causing the smaller man to shrink back as the giant soldier towered over him. Then Beowulf knelt down on the floor in front of the jester, putting them at almost equal height, and then wrapped his massive arms around Thedrick’s thin frame. Thedrick’s whole body went stiff as he was held gently.

“I’ll keep you safe from now on,” Beowulf mumbled through his visor, resting his chin on Thedrick’s shoulder.

Thedrick felt his breath catching in his throat, his mouth felt dry, and he struggled to push any words out. He felt like he should protest being coddled, but it was difficult when he actually enjoyed it. He heaved a sigh. “Thank you,” he breathed out, pressing into the hug.

Beowulf pulled away, though still held Thedrick by the shoulders, and the jester cleared his throat before speaking again. “So, you wanted to spend time together? What did you want to do?” he asked awkwardly.

Beowulf stared at him silently for a moment, before shrugging with equal awkwardness. As they were finally at eye level for once, Thedrick could see through the slit in the helmet, catching a glimpse of Beowulf’s blue eyes, looking at him with such earnestness. “I didn’t think that far, I just… wanted to be with you…” he trailed off towards the end of the sentence, clearly embarrassed.

Thedrick let out a laugh to try to lighten the situation, else the feelings swelling in his chest might suddenly swallow his voice. “Well, I promised to play some music for you, remember?” he said, gently pulling away from Beowulf. Thedrick crossed the room to where his lute was resting against the wall while Beowulf got to his feet. Thedrick grabbed up the instrument and headed for the door, gesturing to Beowulf to follow. “Let’s go sit in the garden, it’s a beautiful day after all.”

The large soldier followed the little jester out of the room and down the hallway. Thedrick started talking animatedly as they navigated the corridors, gesturing with his hand and lute. Beowulf didn’t say much, just nodded and chuckled along, helmet following all of Thedrick’s movements, like he couldn’t take his eyes off him. 

The jester led the soldier up to the roof garden again, knowing not many people visited it besides Queen Vivienne, and perhaps Balthasar to take some herbs she planted for him for medicine. When they arrived though there seemed to be no one around, and Thedrick gestured for Beowulf to follow him over to the low wall at the edge of the roof. He hopped up on it and took a seat, and the soldier sat down close to him, looking down at him expectantly. 

Thedrick held up the lute and started strumming on it, breaking out into song. His voice carried across the rooftop garden, where there wasn’t much other sound to be heard. He glanced up at Beowulf, who seemed to have his gaze firmly trained on the jester still. Thedrick raised an eyebrow at him but continued to play and sing until he had finished the song.

“Why do you always have the helmet on, big guy?” Thedrick asked after he finished, looking up at Beowulf questioningly. It was hard to tell Beowulf’s reaction to his singing when his face was covered.

“Oh… well… Cassian said I look too… soft… so I should keep it on to appear more intimidating,” the soldier explained hesitantly, gesturing awkwardly with his hands.

“Well, there’s no one else around right now, so you don’t need to keep it on, right?” Thedrick pointed out as he absently strummed on the lute.

“Oh, I guess so,” Beowulf said, and reached up to remove his helmet, setting it down on the wall beside him. His golden hair caught the midday sun and almost seemed to glow. Cassian was right, his face wasn’t intimidating at all, he looked kind and friendly with his soft features.

Thedrick started singing another song for him and was delighted to see the smile spread across Beowulf’s face as he did, his blue eyes looking down at the little jester with such affection. Warm feelings curled in Thedrick’s stomach, and he tried not to let them crack his voice as he sang. He had never had anyone look at him this way before.

When Thedrick finished the song, Beowulf clapped his hands together slowly in appreciation, and Thedrick grinned up at him happily.

“So, do you sing at all?” Thedrick asked the soldier with a sly smirk.

Beowulf’s eyes widened and he shook his head. “I- I don’t even know any songs,” he exclaimed in defence.

Thedrick pouted. “Aw come on, I want to hear your voice,” he whined. “Surely you know some common tavern songs or something.”

Beowulf’s cheeks started to redden slightly. “W-Well… I do know the words to a lullaby that my ma used to sing when I was too scared of the dark to sleep at night as a babe…” he said hesitantly.

“You were scared of the dark?” Thedrick asked suddenly with a humorous smile.

“Were?” Beowulf asked with confusion, then instantly looked like he regretted it. “Oh, uh, I mean, yes.”

“You’re still scared of the dark?” Thedrick exclaimed with glee and disbelief as he stared up at the increasingly embarrassed soldier. “Really? You?”

“H-H-Hey! Leave off!” Beowulf protested, frowning now.

“I’m sorry, I just find it hard to believe you’d have any reason to be scared of anything,” Thedrick explained as he tried not to laugh. “But alright, let’s hear it.”

“Huh?” Beowulf asked, perplexed.

“The lullaby. Come on,” Thedrick urged, turning towards Beowulf and crossing his legs under himself, resting his lute in his lap and then gazing up at the soldier expectantly.

Beowulf looked away in embarrassment, bringing a hand to his mouth to cover it slightly. “… Alright, but promise not to laugh?”

Thedrick put a hand over his heart. “I promise,” he said.

“Fine…” Beowulf sighed and cleared his throat. “Sleep now my darling, there's nothing to fear. Close your tired eyes while I dry all your tears…”

Beowulf’s voice was a deep, rich timbre, which didn’t really suit the theme of the song at all, which had obviously been written to be sung by a feminine voice. However, Thedrick was enrapt by how deep the soldier's voice was, while still being smooth and pleasant to listen to.

Beowulf broke off singing when he saw the way the jester was looking at him. “Wh-What?” he asked indignantly, looking embarrassed again.

“That was great!” Thedrick exclaimed joyfully, leaning forward towards him. “You should sing with me! You have the perfect backing voice!”

Beowulf started shaking his head and waving his hands back and forth in front of him in denial. “No no no!” he simply protested, cheeks ruddy. “I am happy to leave the singing to you.”

Thedrick put on a look of dramatic disappointment for a moment. “Ah well, I’m sure I’ll talk you around to it one day,” he said with a shrug and a smirk. “You’ll find I can be very persuasive!”

“If that’s true, how come you haven’t managed to persuade any of the soldiers not to beat you up?” Beowulf asked with a slightly sardonic smile.

Thedrick sighed theatrically and let his shoulders droop. “They usually don’t give me the opportunity to try, or they don’t listen,” he explained mournfully, looking down.

Suddenly Beowulf’s large hand was cupping the jester’s chin, forcing him to tilt his head up again while the soldier’s thumb caressed the bruised pale skin of his cheek. Beowulf was looking down at Thedrick with such soft kindness it made his heart melt. Beowulf used his other hand to pluck the lute off the jester’s lap and then gently set it down on the wall next to him. Then he gathered Thedrick up in his arms and pulled the small man into his lap.

Thedrick was lost for words once more as the large man held him against his chest. No one else except Balthasar treated him this gently, with kindness. Thedrick didn’t mind being picked up and held like a doll, it was at least nicer than what other soldiers did to him. Thedrick raised his head to look up at Beowulf’s face, who was smiling down at him softly. Beowulf leaned down and pressed his forehead and nose against Thedrick’s fluffy hair, eyes closed and humming softly.