Chapter 9

“Where are you, Thedrick? Come out, don’t make this harder than it has to be,” Beowulf’s voice echoed through the room, a manic edge to his tone.

Thedrick clamped his hand down over his mouth more tightly, his body trembling where he was squished into his hiding spot. He could picture the gigantic soldier stalking through the room, that wooden stake gripped tightly in his armoured hand. Thedrick felt more tears prick in his eyes, and he tried desperately to steady and quiet his breathing and not to sob, less he be discovered.

Less than a week ago, Thedrick would never have pictured himself ending up in this sort of situation, being chased through the castle by his lover who was trying to plunge a wooden stake through his heart. But life certainly takes strange turns, especially for the jester.

It all started simply with Beowulf acting rather strangely, which Thedrick could mostly brush off at first, but after a while it started to become more of an issue. All these strange behaviours were also accompanied by Beowulf becoming a lot more distant from Thedrick, not spending as much time with him and dodging his affections, at first to Thedrick’s chagrin and then leaving him wondering what he had done wrong and if Beowulf was no longer interested in a relationship with him.

As for the other strange behaviours, firstly, Beowulf baked some bread and offered it to Thedrick in what seemed to be a rather sweet gesture. Thedrick was already hesitant to take it, knowing full well he wouldn’t really be able to eat it, but when he smelled it, he found what he thought would be a fair reason not to accept the offering. It seemed that Beowulf had gone very hard on the garlic in this loaf, which Thedrick wasn’t too much of a fan of. So, he politely declined it, stating he didn’t really like garlic. And Beowulf gave him a very strange look when he did so, which Thedrick hadn’t a clue of the meaning in the instance.

The next strange occurrence was when Beowulf offered Thedrick a set of prayer beads, nestled in a box on a piece of velvet. The soldier said it was to keep him safe from evil spirits. Thedrick declined the offering as graciously as he could, stating that he wasn’t religious, but he appreciated the thought nonetheless. When he expressed this, Beowulf’s eyebrows narrowed, and he snapped the box shut and left. Thedrick was worried he had offended him by declining the gift, and maybe he should have accepted the offering instead.

The following incident was where Beowulf had seemingly ‘accidentally’ spilled some water on Thedrick, but then watched carefully for his reaction. Thedrick simply grimaced, shaking the water off as best he could while Beowulf gave his apologies. Thedrick said it was fine, no harm done, but when he looked up at Beowulf’s face the soldier had a very confused expression, which confused Thedrick as well.

If Thedrick had been a little smarter, he might have been able to put the pieces together ahead of time, and of course now they seemed so obvious. But he had actually been caught off guard when Beowulf had confronted him, accusing him of being a vampire.

“W-Wulfy! What are you talking about?” Thedrick had exclaimed, the pitch of his voice rising with his nerves.

“I told you, I’ve figured you out, vampire,” Beowulf spat as he loomed over the smaller man.

“B-B-But, that’s crazy!” Thedrick exclaimed while trying to back away, cowering under the shadow of the giant man. “You’ve seen me outside, in the sun!” he tried to reason desperately.

“Dark magic tricks might be easy for you, but I won’t be fooled,” Beowulf growled, lifting up the wooden stake he held in one hand. “I won’t let you hurt anyone else, monster.”

“I- I- I- I haven’t hurt anyone!” Thedrick cried out, backing up as Beowulf took a menacing step towards him. “Wulfy… please don’t be like this,” Thedrick looked up at the soldier pleadingly.

Beowulf had lunged towards him, trying to grab him. Thedrick had quickly dodged out of the way of his large hand, and scrambled off down the hallway. Glancing behind him he saw the massive man sprinting after him and he couldn’t help but scream with fear, quickly sliding around the nearest corner and scampering off down the next hallway.

Thedrick had run for his dear life, winding his way through the castle corridors as fast as he could with the pounding of heavy footsteps following behind him. He eventually slipped into a nearby room, and quickly looked for a hiding place, climbed into the closet and closed the door behind him.

That was where he was currently cowering, listening to Beowulf’s heavy footsteps on the floor in the room, his booming voice calling for the jester to come out. Thedrick had actually been hiding here for quite a while, as at first he had lost his pursuer by going into a room, but Beowulf had decided to systematically search through the rooms to find him. Thedrick’s body had shuddered more and more with fear as he heard the soldier searching the nearby rooms and calling out his name.

Despite his best effort to keep quiet, eventually the doors of the closet were flung open, and the shadow of the large man fell upon Thedrick’s trembling form, his eyes instantly drawn to the stake raised high.

“Found you!” Beowulf crowed in triumph as he leered down at the small man.

“Please don’t kill me!” Thedrick shrieked, and then quickly scrambled out of the closet between Beowulf’s legs, pushing himself to his feet and running for the door.

Thedrick was back to running through the castle hallways again, Beowulf hot on his tail. Where could he go where he would be safe? Well, there was one possibility. He prayed feverishly that Balthasar would be in the infirmary as he ran there as fast as he could, his low stamina already flagging. The fear that Beowulf would catch up to him before he reached safety was coursing through his veins. The whole situation felt very familiar.

Blood pounded through his ears and his lungs burned as he ran as fast as his small legs could carry him, desperately holding onto his brother’s pale hand as he pulled him along. The clattering of the guards' sabatons echoed down the corridor from behind them, along with the shouts. His vision blurred with tears.

When Thedrick reached the infirmary door he was snapped back to the present, and he quickly pulled it open and ran inside. “Baz, save me!” he cried out in distress, sprinting over to the chirurgeon’s desk. Balthasar, who was seated in his chair, looked up in surprise as the jester launched himself at him, crashing into his chest and locking his arms around Balthasar’s neck.

“What in the world?” Balthasar exclaimed as Thedrick buried his face in the chirurgeon’s shoulder, panting heavily from the exertion. He was filled with relief, he was safe now, Balthasar would protect him.

Thedrick heard the heavy footsteps enter the infirmary, causing both himself and Balthasar to look up and over towards the doorway. Beowulf stood across the room panting slightly, stake still clutched in his hand. He started striding purposefully over towards Balthasar’s desk, and the chirurgeon quickly got to his feet, wrapping his arms around the jester that was still hanging off him, turning his body slightly to the side.

“What is the meaning of this?” Balthasar demanded in a very annoyed tone, scowling at the approaching Beowulf.

“He’s a vampire!” Beowulf exclaimed as he stopped a few steps away, pointing accusingly at Thedrick who was clinging to Balthasar for dear life.

“You told him, Thedrick?” Balthasar growled in irritation.

“No, no I swear I didn’t!” Thedrick cried out, sniffing back tears.

“Wait, so he really is a vampire?” Beowulf sounded slightly surprised.

Balthasar looked at him in puzzlement. “You didn’t know for sure? You were going to kill him on just a suspicion?” he asked angrily, frowning with heavy disappointment.

“I mean I… I was pretty sure… but hold on… you knew?” all the fury seemed to have left Beowulf now, replaced with bewilderment.

Balthasar sighed heavily. “Yes, I knew he was a vampire,” he admitted.

“But then… why didn’t you…” Beowulf broke off as he made a stabbing motion with the wooden stake.

“Beowulf. Look at him,” Balthasar said, nodding towards the trembling Thedrick he held in his arms. Thedrick had removed one arm from around Balthasar’s neck and was using his hand to try and dash away his tears while he took shaky breaths, coming down from the adrenaline rush. “You really think he’s dangerous? The only danger he poses is to himself,” the chirurgeon finished with a roll of his eyes.

“But… doesn’t he kill people, and drink their blood?” Beowulf asked, sounding like he was losing his conviction.

Balthasar shook his head. “I let him drink my blood, or I give him some if I get any out of patients using leeches. He doesn’t hurt anybody… he couldn’t hurt anybody,” Balthasar explained wearily.

“Oh…” was all Beowulf responded with, hand holding the stake falling to his side.

“I’m disappointed in you Beowulf. I thought you loved him. He sure loves you, more than anything. Though, maybe not now after you tried to murder him,” there was a sharp edge to Balthasar’s tone, and he put an emphasis on the word ‘murder’, which seemed to cause Beowulf to flinch slightly.

“But I thought that vampires are evil, right? Don’t they kill people?” Beowulf asked hesitantly.

Balthasar rolled his eyes again. “Packs of wild wolves will kill and eat people. Are wolves ‘evil’?” he asked tiredly. “No. They are just hungry. I’m not sure if vampires are really evil; if they take joy in killing to survive. But Thedrick certainly isn’t evil, I can assure you of that.”

Beowulf shuffled uncomfortably in place. “I… I’m sorry… I didn’t realise…”

Balthasar made a ‘tch’ sound of disapproval. “If you want to start making amends, hand me the stake,” he said as he lowered Thedrick down to the floor. Thedrick hesitantly let go of the chirurgeon’s neck and stood on his own two feet, before quickly hiding behind the tall man, peeking out to watch Beowulf.

Beowulf stepped forward cautiously, holding the stake out towards Balthasar. “So… the stake would have worked?” he asked as the chirurgeon took it from his hand.

Balthasar gave the soldier a withering look. “If someone stabbed you through the heart, would you die? Of course, it would work, it would work on anyone, you fool,” he said in derision, opening a drawer in his desk and shoving the stake into it before closing it again. 

“Now, why don’t you, I don’t know, apologise to your boyfriend?” Balthasar snapped at Beowulf, which made the soldier flinch again.

Beowulf turned to look down at Thedrick, which caused Thedrick to shrink back further behind his protector. “Thedrick I’m… I’m sorry…” Beowulf said, though sounded a bit unsure.

“And now, it’s probably best that you leave, as you’ve terrified him enough already,” Balthasar said, making a shooing gesture towards Beowulf with one hand. The soldier looked like he was about to protest, but then sighed and turned and headed for the exit.

“Oh, and by the way Beowulf,” Balthasar called out, causing the soldier to pause for a moment and glance back at them, “If you tell anyone Thedrick’s secret, I will steal your spleen while you are sleeping.”

Beowulf seemed to consider that for a moment, before nodding and heading out the door, closing it behind him.

Thedrick let out a deep breath he didn’t know he had been holding, while Balthasar sat down on his chair once more. Soon, the little vampire was climbing into the chirurgeon’s lap again, which Balthasar didn’t protest against. Thedrick curled up against the tall man’s chest and started to sob.

“H-He was actually going to kill me,” Thedrick stuttered out through the sobs as Balthasar gently stroked his back to comfort him.

“I’m pretty sure I warned you about this outcome, Thedrick,” Balthasar pointed out in an emotionless ‘I told you so’.

“H-H-How could he do that?” Thedrick wondered aloud, almost wailing. “I thought, I thought he loved me!” the jester cried harder.

“I have tried to tell you before Thedrick, most humans are dumb and easily give in to hysteria if they think they are in danger,” Balthasar repeated something he had said many times before. “You know how they feel about your kind, and you’ve experienced this sort of reaction before.”

“I was hoping… he would be different…” Thedrick mumbled, sniffling. “Plus… he wasn’t supposed to find out…”

“You should have been ready for this, you know,” Balthasar sighed while he wrapped his arms around Thedrick’s thin frame.

****

The continuous, rhythmic sound of the juggling ball landing in Thedrick’s gloved hand before being thrown into the air again echoed through the otherwise near silent room, the only other sound being the scratching of Balthasar’s quill against paper. That was, before the chirurgeon let out a sound of annoyance.

“Do you have to do that?” Balthasar snapped, glaring at Thedrick where he lay in one of the sick beds, throwing his ball in the air while watching it with unfocused eyes. When Balthasar spoke to him, he snapped his vision back into focus, looking lazily over at his friend.

“But I don’t have anything else to do, and I’m bored,” Thedrick complained, though didn’t throw the ball up again, just sighed unhappily instead, holding it against his chest.

“Feel free to leave then,” Balthasar said dismissively, turning his attention back to his notebook.

The thought of stepping out of the doors of the infirmary filled Thedrick’s mind with memories of being chased through the castle by a murderous Beowulf a few days prior, sending a pang of panic through his chest. He shook his head. “What if he comes after me again?” he asked in a fearful tone.

“What, are you going to stay in here for the rest of your life?” Balthasar asked with scepticism.

“Maybe…” Thedrick said quietly, sitting up on the bed.

“I can only lie to the king about you being sick for so long you know,” Balthasar pointed out without looking up from his work.

Thedrick gave the chirurgeon a pleading look, even though he wouldn’t see it. “If I see him coming at me with a wooden stake again, I may just die on the spot from fear,” he tried to explain, finding it difficult to put his terror into words.

“Ugh, this is worse than when you were gushing about how handsome and amazing he is, and how you wanted him to hold you so badly…” Balthasar grumbled, finally looking up slightly from what he was doing to give Thedrick a weary look.

“Yeah, well, like there’s any chance that’s going to happen anymore…” Thedrick mumbled dejectedly, looking at the floor in front of where he was dangling his legs over the edge of the bed.

“You… still want him to?” Thedrick could basically hear the raised eyebrow in Balthasar’s tone.

The jester sighed heavily, feeling a squirming sensation in his guts. “It… it doesn’t matter if I do… because he clearly hates me for what I am, so he won’t be interested anymore, obviously.”

Balthasar was silent for a long moment, which caused Thedrick to look up at him, to see a look of extreme disbelief and bewilderment on the chirurgeon’s face. “Thedrick… he tried to murder you, remember?” Balthasar asked in a slow, unsure manner.

Thedrick felt heat creep into his cheek as he shrugged, looking away awkwardly. “Y-Yeah… I know… it’s stupid… I shouldn’t be missing him, shouldn’t be hoping he’ll burst through the doors and sweep me into his embrace… ughhhh…” Thedrick groaned loudly and buried his face in his hands. “I should just be happy if he doesn’t try to kill me again… that should be enough,” he added, voice muffled in his hands.

“Have you ever tried using your brain for thinking, rather than your dick?” Balthasar asked in a playfully mocking tone.

“Shut up!” Thedrick groaned as he folded in on himself more, burning with embarrassment. He knew his feelings didn’t make any sense, but he couldn’t help it. He’d fallen deep and fast for Beowulf, and even almost being murdered by him didn’t seem to dampen those feelings that much. It had simply made him feel very sad, and scared.

“Well, if you are going to keep hiding in here, you better keep quiet, or I’ll kill you myself,” Balthasar said, though clearly with no real threat behind his words.

Thedrick uncurled himself and looking up saw Balthasar’s attention was back on his work again. The jester flopped back down on the bed with a heavy dramatic sigh, going back to staring up at the ceiling. He knew Balthasar was right, that he couldn’t hide in the infirmary forever. Perhaps it was about time he left. He would just have to be super vigilant and avoid Beowulf at all costs, and maybe if he was lucky, the soldier wouldn’t want him dead anymore.

Thedrick sat up again, about to make a move to get out of the bed, when suddenly his attention was grabbed by the infirmary door opening. The jester’s head quickly snapped towards the door and his eyes went wide as he saw the tall, broad figure standing there. Thedrick let out a squeak of fear before he scrambled out of the other side of the bed, falling to the floor. He quickly turned around and peaked over the mattress towards the door, trembling as the soldier walked across the room towards him.