Lunar Flare Book 1: Crimson Moon

Chapter 3

Beowulf took a hand and rubbed the back of his helmet, in a nervous gesture. "As I said... I've been training in the king's army for a few months now..." he started to explain rather awkwardly.

"But... how old are you?" Thedrick asked in confusion, raising one pale eyebrow questioningly.

"Nineteen summers..." The large man seemed rather embarrassed.

Thedrick looked the soldier up and down with an exaggerated thoughtfulness, cupping his chin in one hand and sticking his tongue out while squeezing one eye shut. "I'm struggling to see how the king's recruiters missed you..." the jester said doubtingly, gesturing to the man's stature.

Beowulf chuckled awkwardly. "My mother is rather overprotective... she knew I would surely be recruited and didn't want me to be sent off to fight and die. So, when the recruiters were making the rounds, she would either hide me from them, or pay them off if they saw me," Beowulf explained. "But that couldn't last forever, of course."

"Wow, so you've only been training a few months and you already made the royal guard? The king and queen's closest protectors?" Thedrick said in amazement.

"Heh... well... it's easy to win fights when everyone is so much smaller and weaker than you..." The hesitant smile was evident in the soldier's tone. "Though I think they just wanted me in the throne room as an intimidation tool... make visitors nervous. It's fine though, ma is happy that it will keep me away from the front lines."

It was slightly hilarious, how this man could look so intimidating, but as soon as he started talking you would instantly realise he was just a big softy. Though that didn't rule out the fact he could probably crush someone's skull with his bare hands if the need arose. Thedrick was trying not to get over excited at the thought of the soldier's strength.

Beowulf retrieved the pie from the oven, sitting it down on the bench to cool. Thedrick had to admit that the smell was tantalising. Having a slice sounded great, though he just hoped he could keep it down, and that the big man wouldn't insist on trying to make him eat too much. He didn't want to seem rude, but also didn't want to explain why he was really so thin.

Thedrick wasn't sure if he was imagining that the soldier was standing closer to him or what, but it sure felt like he was standing rather close, still towering over him despite his seat up on the countertop giving the jester a little extra height than normal. It almost felt like Beowulf was leaning down towards Thedrick a bit as they talked, and the jester tried to keep his anxious excitement at bay.

As he was seated on the counter, Thedrick was facing the entrance to the kitchen, and so was the first to notice someone appear in the doorway. His eyes widened slightly as he recognised the woman who stood in the doorway, flowy white nightdress clinging to her pregnant stomach, soft face framed by long dark hair.

"Good evening your majesty!" Thedrick sang out in a tone of confusion, and Queen Vivienne took a hesitant step into the room, giving him an awkward smile.

Thedrick noticed how Beowulf's body instantly stiffened and straightened up, and the soldier mechanically turned around to face the door. "Y-your majesty!" he exclaimed in disbelief before ducking his head slightly, falling quiet.

"What are you doing here, sweetheart?" Thedrick asked jovially, ignoring the large awkward soldier beside him.

The queen sighed and smiled ruefully. "For probably the same reason as yourself, Thedrick; I was feeling rather peckish," she explained in a soft tone.

"Oh?" the jester said in puzzlement, hopping down off the counter in one swift motion. He noticed that Beowulf was still holding himself stiffly to attention, not moving at all. "But why wouldn't you simply send one of your handmaidens to fetch whatever you might desire?" Thedrick asked as he approached her with a gesture of confusion. He had to look up at her now, as she stood quite a bit taller than his small frame.