Lunar Flare Book 2: Midnight Eclipse

Chapter 2

It did not take long for Beowulf to find Thedrick, as he knew of the jester's favourite places. He could often be found out in the courtyard or in the roof garden, always basking in the sun's warm rays. It made sense, as the small man was usually very cold to the touch, that he'd want to warm himself like a lizard on a rock. And if he wanted to be alone to grieve, the roof garden was barely frequented by anyone, so he could be left undisturbed. Except if Beowulf had any say in the matter.

Beowulf stepped out into the open air, the world around him illuminated by the dimming rays of the setting sun. He quickly spotted the jester, seated on the wall surrounding the roof, knees pulled up against his chest and arms wrapped around them. He appeared to be staring off into the distance, at the sun which was already partially obscured by the hills on the horizon.

Stepping as gently as possible over to where Thedrick sat, Beowulf lowered himself down to take a seat next to him on the wall, facing the garden. Thedrick's eyes glanced at Beowulf for a moment, but he didn't turn towards him. Beowulf placed a hand on Thedrick's back while examining his pale face. Wet streaks from tears ran down his cheeks, causing his makeup to smear.

It was a little strange, seeing Thedrick so genuinely upset like this. Sure, he had been upset each time someone had tried to kill him, though that was a different kind of upset, one caused by fear. This time was different, Thedrick seemed a lot more despondent. Beowulf wondered if he was feeling guilty about the queen's death after all, despite the fact he had stated it wasn't his fault.

"This isn't your fault, Thedrick, and anyone who thinks so is wrong. You didn't cause the queen's death," Beowulf attempted to gently reassure.

"I know it's not! Though I am sad that she is gone," Thedrick stated, sniffling.

"So you're grieving. I hadn't quite realised... how close you two were." Beowulf couldn't stop himself from sounding rather awkward. He was as surprised as anyone at the new information about the relationship between the jester and the monarch. Though he understood it would have taken place before he and Thedrick had met, as the queen was already visibly pregnant by then.

"A bit but... I'm also worried..." Thedrick mumbled, pressing his forehead against his knees.

"About people blaming you?" Beowulf tried to coax Thedrick to explain what he was feeling.

"Well, a little, but... I'm worried about her..." Thedrick's breath hitched in his throat slightly as he tried to talk.

"... About your daughter?" Beowulf asked plainly.

"... y-yes..." Thedrick stuttered hesitantly. "Gods it's... weird to hear you call her that."

"What are you worried about?" Beowulf prompted, but could already make a fair guess as to the answer.

"About how much she will be... like me. How much of a... vampire..." Thedrick sighed wearily. "Will she hunger for blood? Will she be able to control it? What if people find out what I am, then she would be persecuted as well!" Thedrick looked up at Beowulf in distress now, tears pooling in his large red eyes once more.

Beowulf put his large hands around Thedrick's small body and then gently pulled the vampire into his lap, leaning him against his broad chest. Thedrick buried his face into Beowulf's chest as he sobbed, the soldier holding him tightly.

"You managed to control your hunger in your childhood and not be discovered, right?" Beowulf asked gently.

Thedrick sniffled and shook his head. "No... that's why I had to run away... or they would have killed me..." he explained through shaky breaths.

Beowulf frowned. "Look, it will be alright, Thedrick. If Maerwynn needs blood, I can keep you both fed. And I'm sure Balthasar will help us to keep it all a secret," Beowulf offered as assurance.