Jul 9
G/T July day 9 ; Miracle
(based off of this list ; here)
~~~
seen from Ecuador
seen from Argentina
seen from Maldives
seen from United States
seen from Türkiye
seen from Malaysia
seen from Malaysia
seen from Nicaragua
seen from Ukraine
seen from Türkiye
seen from Iraq
seen from United States
seen from Canada
seen from Malaysia
seen from United States
seen from Thailand
seen from United States
seen from Malaysia
seen from Maldives
seen from Venezuela
G/T July day 9 ; Miracle
(based off of this list ; here)
~~~
G/t July 2026 (Unofficial) Prompt List!
Not sure if any official prompts will be released this year but regardless if they are or not, here are some prompts for you all to enjoy! Can't wait to see what everyone makes with them!
(Gtjuly originally by @gianttol)
The fairy and the giant (Part 12)
FINCH POV:
The last thing he heard from the tiny cabin was oddly the sound of wind chimes. Still, his mind couldn’t linger on that much longer. Especially after such a heartfelt farewell they had. When Lavender finally reached the cabin, a subtle handgrip itched him cravingly. Even if it was just for a week … he was going to miss her. And there was no way he could trick himself into feeling otherwise. Not after everything that had just occurred.
The giant’s mind could only reminisce on her flushed cheeks when he handed her the apples. How could someone so beautiful smile at him the way she did?
He was floating with pure joy.
As his enormous arms surrounded the cabin with great care. Sun rays caressed his shoulders gently, reminding him of where his tiny friend had just been sitting. The remaining sensation of her body still tickled the side of his neck. He’d never forget how her thighs felt clinging on to him. They were just so … soft. And even if it was barely perceptible to him, Finch could feel all her little strength like a tiny pinch on his shoulders. Oh, and the way her arms held him …
What was he thinking?!
A wave of guilt overturned him immediately the second he became aware of these thoughts.
Finch didn’t quite understand it. But he knew it was wrong! So wrong! Why couldn’t he stop thinking about her?! She was just so kind and patient with him. Not to mention stunning as well … He wouldn’t be surprised if each time she visited the village, human men would find themselves drawn to such oneiric beauty. For some reason, just imagining Lavender surrounded by other men made him strangely upset. Ugh! Why was he getting all weird and nervous with his own hypotheticals!
Eventually, the dark mantle of a silent night arrived. Finch didn’t want to overthink why he hadn’t heard anything from the fairy in a while. After all, she was most likely resting by now.
The only thing left for him to do was put his monstrously huge body to good use and protect her little cottage with his life. Well … it’s not like it was anything near of a hard task for him. But the giant liked to believe it was the sentiment that counted. Though, he’d prefer if those green little creatures kept their distance.
His night vision wasn’t the best, but if he were to focus slightly on the foliage. There they were. A dozen pairs of glowing golden eyes scattered around the perimeter. Staring at the behemoth of a man rabidly, knowing their prey would live to see another day.
No wonder Lavender was so desperate for protection.
Finch stared at them back. Despite hating the fear he caused on other beings. A part of him was glad the little creatures opted to listen to their instinct. Cause this time around, it’d be the smartest choice.
“If you take a step closer, I’ll …” None of them did. Fortunately, he didn’t have to start swatting them around to get his point across. Although, if it meant ensuring Lavender’s safety, he wouldn’t mind playing the bad, scary giant.
Suddenly, a flash of the past invaded him for an instant. A horrified stare.
… what the hell was that?
His temples and the back of his skull burned profusely just at the thought. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t decipher where did that came from. Thus, and yet again, Finch couldn’t sleep. As he was being accompanied by insomniac crickets, which serenaded his nerves and drowned tiny shrieks emerging from the cabin.
… Wait.
Was she crying? This was bad. Did he do something wrong?!
Was he holding the cabin too tightly?!
— … Lav? — he pondered as quietly as his bumbling nerves allowed him to.
No response. He needed to get a grip of himself. The least she needed was for Finch to make things worse by overreacting.
"Just breathe." — Hey a-are you okay? — His tone was doing a horrible job of hiding his fear. Painstakingly, he managed to place his ear in contact with the roof. After a few seconds, tiny mutters could be heard from inside. The fairy seemed agitated and … agonizing.
A part of him wanted to just rip the roof open and shelter her with his own hands. It would be so simple, just one motion, and she would be safe!
… What the hell was wrong with him?!
Monster or not. He shouldn’t think this way! He had to get it together.
— Lavender?! — He pleaded louder this time. His pulse was muffling his common sense. And his lungs were trying their best to keep up the pace.
No one answered. Why was no one answering?! Just a tiny series of shrieks. But he couldn’t get any of them! On his desperate state, Finch desperately begged Mother Earth to shrink him. Just for a little while! Just small enough so he could enter her home and check if she was okay.
Of course, nothing happened.
A normal person could just get in and help her! That’s what a decent friend would do! But he couldn’t even dare to attempt to open the door without risking it would just end up flying off its hinges.
Even the curtains were drawn, so he couldn't peak inside!
Out of the blue, a tiny, frightened gasp reached his ears. Followed by hyperventilating breathing.
— Are you hurt?! — He didn’t quite realize just how much he raised his tone.
Her voice felt like the lack of moonlight softly caressed his cheeks. — I-I’m fine. I just had a bad dream is all. S-sorry … I didn’t mean to worry you. — Almost imperceptible. Sweet yet shaky. And extremely terrified.
Of him.
Oh no …
Wait, bad dream? … D-did he terrify the crap out of her this morning that she ended up having a nightmare?!
He also felt so guilty after she apologized. After all, she wasn’t the one who was about to rip the roof open like an animal. Just then did Finch realize how brutish his actions were. As shame started choking him and the dim sound of shackles reminded him of his place.
Why did he have to raise his voice like a giant idiot?! No wonder Lavender still feared him!
— … Can you hear me? — It seemed as if she yelled as loudly as she could. Still, her voice was barely there. Lost among the howls of the wind. Why did it sound so distant?! Fear overtook his chest.
— I can but ... just barely. — The only thing he could do was answer the truth. What is this? This wasn’t fair to her … she shouldn’t have to yell just to be heard.
And that’s when Finch remembered the obvious: the fairy had to be back to her original size by now … “You think a flightless fairy would’ve survived if she stayed three inches?! That’s the size of my pinky!” The mental image of the fairy raising her hands to him popped up. Her tiny, fragile little fingers … which all fitted perfectly on the tip of his nose.
— … I’m the one who should apologize. — He whispered, or at least … he thought he did; ocean eyes glued to the shingles. — Am I being too loud? I-I can stop talking if you’d like. — The giant bit his tongue in regret while stumbling over his words. “Idiot.”
Suddenly everything started to spin erratically as the realization of it all sank in. Every part of his body felt heavier. As all the leaves began rustling harder, the chant of crickets was louder, and a couple of bears started fighting for no reason! The giant could hear absolutely everything around the forest. Everything … except for her. She remained silent, or at least he couldn’t hear anything!
His body felt hot and cold at the same time. He definitely had to look like a monster to her now. A mountainous beast. "Get a hold of yourself.” He had to remain gentle.
No matter what. No matter how small she was.
She was still the woman who had accepted his friendship, despite all her doubts. The giant just hoped that she would see it in the same way. No matter how monstrously huge he seemed to the fairy, he’d never do anything to hurt her. She knew that … right?
Much to his surprise, Lavender’s velvet voice reached him again. — Don’t, please. — she answered with an odd sense of urgency. For a moment, he almost forgot what he had asked in the first place. — Could you just … whisper to me until I fall asleep? — She pleaded.
… huh?
An amused chuckle almost escaped from his lips as his stiff shoulders eventually relaxed. Once again, the fairy left him speechless. Despite their bizarre circumstances. Despite the fact that he could now easily hold her just with the tip of his finger … Lavender continued to treat him like a person.
How could he refuse such a favor? In fact, how could he refuse anything if it came from her?
And so, after questioning her if she had finally eaten something. Finch proceeded to awkwardly narrate to his little friend about the first time he got to pet a bear cub a couple centuries ago.
Maybe it was for the best that Finch couldn’t see her. The cabin indirectly became a barrier that fortunately hid them from each other. As indulging in their presence would end up being too much for each other. Especially for the little fairy …
Oh well … at least she was alright, and they could still pretend all of this was completely normal. His jaw started hurting. Nevertheless, the giant managed to fall asleep while still surrounding the cabin gently with his arms.
Even if the sea of nerves on his mind had subsided, something else disturbed slightly the waves of his subconscious. Something new and old at the same time.
Ever so slightly.
Ever so …
…
Morning arrived lazily and surprisingly quiet, through dim sun rays accompanied by big drowsy clouds.
A couple of ravens had found their way to rest upon the top of the giant’s head. As he remained in the same position as last night. Fortunately, this time around he got to stretch his legs alongside the mountain range.
Eventually, the tiniest voice carried him back gently from a deep slumber. — Finch? — the fairy pondered. Slowly but surely, he regained consciousness right in time to register where his arms were located before making any regretful movements.
—… Finch, you awake? — She questioned patiently. "What a pretty voice."
— Huh? Yeah, I’m up. Good morning, Lav. — The giant drew out groggily. The fluttering sound indicated the bird's departure. — How did you sleep? Any nightmares?
He hoped his "just woke up" voice didn’t come out as creepy or intimidating. Especially since he forgot he had to whisper. Crap. The last thing he wanted was to burst her eardrums. The remaining lethargy on his mind evaporated. As Finch, could only gulp in regret. Wait. Were her ears capable of catching that?
Could she hear his heartbeat?!
— ... Luckily no, heh. — The little fairy responded calmly. Though, she couldn’t hide the slight tremble in her voice.
He knew it. All too well.
— Though, I hate to break it to you. But I fell asleep right after the part where you found the bear’s den in your story. — She teased as usual, as if she were in complete control of the situation.
With the quietest smile, he managed to reply softly. — Ouh, but that was the best part. — He played along. She was just too cute! Was it wrong that a part of him wanted to nuzzle the shingles with his cheek? ...
Urgh! Why did he have to be such a creep?!
— W-well, I’m glad I could help you out. — He managed to respond with a murmur.
The mental image of the tiny fairy resting on the pillow of her now immense bed, made his heart warm while causing a rather uncomfortable knot on his throat all at the same time. It was a peculiar duality his mind hadn’t gotten used to yet.
— Yep! Your voice at this volume can be rather soothing. — Lavender peeped weirdly energetic ... did something else happen yesterday?
— Soothing … — The word in it of itself seemed so unfamiliar... Who in their right mind would describe him like that?! Was she feeling okay? — I think we have different definitions for soothing.
— You’d be surprised but, it’s like a gentle rumbling, you could say ... when you’re whispering. — She clarified between a giggle that caused goosebumps all over his spine.
Perhaps her and Charlie weren’t as different as he once thought.
As their conversation flowed smoothly; between whispers and screams. His ears slowly found its way towards the shingles once again. Lavender answered all his doubts patiently and explained how she made it work with her small stature. She insisted that she had everything she needed right at her bedside table, where she was currently staying. Though it bothered him a bit that he couldn't do anything else to help her.
Now that he was calm, if he were to close his eyes, Finch could easily imagine the little fairy at her human size just sitting on the rooftop. Right next to him. While her pretty hair danced with the summer breeze. It was silly, but he felt like a dragon guarding a princess at the top of the tallest tower. Just like in the stories Charlie used to read to him ... although, giants and dragons were usually the villains.
... Why didn't he remember any of that until now? What was the first story he ever read to him?
A small voice brought him back from his trance. — Hey, are you alright? I-I can’t talk any louder than this! — She peeped.
— Ah, sorry. I ... got distracted, heh. — He attempted to clarify in a mumble. — W-what were you saying?
A theatrically offended scoff could be heard from inside. — I was saying that I'm feeling a lot better now. I can prepare the protection spell ... s-so you can stop taking care of me. — The fairy reassured. It was their plan after all, but a part of him didn't want to leave. Moving meant shaking the ground, and he didn't want to traumatize the fairy all over again. — Didn't you tell me that you usually clean the forest after a big storm? I don't want to waste your time.
He had completely forgotten about everything regarding the forest. Usually, he would’ve done it by now. But what he couldn't understand was why Lavender thought she was bothering him. She even said something similar yesterday.
Why did she think she was such a burden?
Or perhaps … his presence had become too overwhelming to her, and this was her way of letting him know.
Yeah … that must be it.
He began, unaware of his pouty lip. — I don’t mind taking care of— The telltale signs of hoofs broke his sentence.
Were there two of them?
Four?
— What’s wrong? — The fairy pondered nervously. The hoofs were now mixing up with footsteps.
Maybe even six?
Where were them?
— Something’s getting closer. — Finch warned; his body tensed up while he rapidly inspected the foliage. There were no signs of goblins or any animal for that matter. — But I can’t see anything.
Something so small that he couldn't see wouldn't be able to make such noise. His hand unconsciously barricaded the cabin door.
A small shaky voice caught his attention. — Are you sure this is a good idea? — It whispered.
The giant opted to remain silent, so as to reveal their location.
— No clue, but she stole from us again! — A second voice responded, more nervous than the last.
Were they talking about Lavender? No matter how hard he looked, there was nothing but grass and a lonely apple tree.
He could've sworn he heard a mumble from the cabin.
— But the big guy freaks me out! — The leaves rustled slightly. His confusion outweighed his guilt. He couldn't avoid finding the nickname funny.
— Guys ... — A third, more centered voice emerged. Though, it seemed like all of them came from the same location. Finch had to fight his urge to rub his eyes; something told him he was going insane.
The first one chimed in. — Oh, he’s harmless! I saw him once cry watching a pigeon learn how to fly.
His face felt warm from embarrassment.
— Well, I saw him crush a tree by accident! — The giant was aware that various creatures had observed him from the sidelines throughout his life. But this was something else. He also would’ve preferred that Lavender didn’t hear that last part.
— Guys! — The third voice fruitlessly attempted yet again to intervene.
— You worry too much Opal. It’s not like he can see us! — The leaves rustled yet again. His gaze fixated on the back of the trunk.
— Yeah, but we’ve never gotten this close!— It spat. The patch of grass beneath the tree shifted oddly.
— Finch. — Lavender finally chipped in. — They're druids. Shapeshifters. For the most part their harmless but …
But what?
Dark eyelashes squinted in thought. — Guys! He’s staring!
Abruptly, the space beside the trunk distorted slightly. Revealing three odd little creatures out of thin air. Finch couldn't dare move a muscle, yet his brows furrowed on their own. He'd seen their kind before, yet until now he learned what they were called.
—Gah! Juniper, w-why didn't you say anything before! — The one in the center yelped while placing their trembling body between the other two and the giant. All of them had humanoid features, yet they also had silver hair, and their heads were beautifully adorned with curved horns and fluffy ears. The only male looking one had deer hind legs which remarked his skittish movements.
— I did! But you never listen to me! — The one on the left snapped back. None of them broke eye contact with the giant.
All of them stared at him in horror. As if at any point he was going to snatch them away from the tree.
The sheer thought made him nauseaos.
— Stop fighting! — The last one begged and with the weakest tone managed to mutter. — ... Perhaps he'll just let us take what's ours? — It appeared as if the little being were about to pass out.
Lavender scoffed, although it wasn't loud enough for the creatures to hear. — They believe for some reason that the apple tree belongs to them. — She revealed without trying to hide her frustration.
Oh, that explains a lot.
It took less than two seconds for the creatures to start bickering and arguing recklessly with each other, as if he wasn't there. It seemed none of them had an actual plan, not even the one who wanted to warn them about Finch. The giant had no clue what he should do. For a moment, the druids resembled wild human children, as their dispute was rapidly invaded by chaos. The song of cicadas adorned his bewilderment.
It took a bit until he could find an opportunity to intervene. Finch inferred it was best not to make sudden movements, so he could only muster to tilt his head slightly. Hoping that would make him seem slightly less threatening.
— Hi, can I-uh, help you? — Silence fell instantly, as the trio of druids were reminded of his presence. All of them could easily be mistaken as humans, if one were to only focus on their faces and clothing. Still, as Finch finally got a chance to observe their features, he realized just how big their eyes appeared, similar to prey animals. His gaze fixated mainly on the one in the center. His shaggy, silver hair, his arched nose and elongated face seemed oddly familiar
... too familiar.
— W-wait, are you ... Oak? — Finch questioned innocently, without even realizing he knew that name until it came out of his mouth. He wasn't sure who that was, but something told him his subconscious did. He'd seen that face before.
The creatures gave him a perplexed look and stared at each other in disbelief. — You have the wrong druid, big guy. That's my grandpa. — The being scratched the nape of his neck; poorly attempting to appear untroubled. — He said you might get confused. Though, I personally don't see the resemblance. — The being grumbled that last part mostly to his companions who hadn't stopped using him as a living shield. The short-haired one seemed to be in awe, while the other continued to tremble in fear.
He couldn't stand that look in their eyes; it made his heart ache profusely. The giant fought the urge to appear smaller. After all, he still needed to protect Lavender.
— A-anyways, the name's Bo. And as representatives of our kind, my siblings and I kindly ask you to step back so we can discuss with the renegade fairy. — The little being stood up straight and stared right through him. Despite being terrified, Finch knew he was making such an effort. Part of him wanted to commend the little one for acting so bravely.
—Oh, nice to meet you Bo, — He couldn't grant their request, so being polite was the least he could do. His gaze landed upon the other two. Juniper and Opal, if he wasn't mistaken. But he couldn't decipher which one was which. — ... and company. I’m Finch.
— Isn't that a human name? — One in the back whispered to their siblings. Clearly unaware that the behemoth could hear them.
"Remain gentle, don't raise your voice." — I'm sorry, but I can't do that. — He informed with the warmest, most apologetic tone he could manage.
The druids stared at each other, analyzing the situation. — What do we do?! — The long haired one fretted in a murmur.
— Relax, I got this. — Bo replied in the same manner. Swiftly, he faced him once again.
The little one placed his hands on his waist. — All fairies do is lie and cheat. Trust me, you don't wanna get involved with any of them. Especially that one. — He gestured with his head towards the cabin. His last words left a bitter taste on the giant's throat. Feeling slightly offended on behalf of his friend. Lavender was nothing like that ... right?
Nevertheless, he couldn't dare show his discomfort. Not even a bit.
— She stole our tree. We just want to take it back to where it belongs. — The druid on the right attempted to reason with him. Guilt grappled his chest
He nodded while weighing his choices. — I was the one who uprooted it. I didn’t know it belonged to anyone.
Suddenly Bo appeared to have an 'Aha!' moment. As if the final missing piece had fallen in place. — Oh, so she fooled you to do her bidding, huh? Don't worry Finch, we'll just take it back after we have a word with her.
Why were they so adamant about speaking with her? Did they know how small she was now? And if they did ... what would they do to her? Three against one already seemed unfair. They didn't seem to have an apparent malicious intent. But he'd rather not risk it.
Unbeknownst to him, Lavender was fuming. — Tell Bo he can eat my!—
— She’s not feeling well right now! — The giant interjected louder than he would've anticipated due to the shock. His face was invaded by a pink tinge of shame. He immediately went stiff when he noticed.
As the druids had already backed away, covering their ears. There it was again.
That horrified stare. Why couldn't he ...
If the humanoid creatures had reacted that way. He couldn't even fathom how terrified his three-inch-friend must be.
"Idiot!"
Mentally, he reached for his handcuffs once again. And this time, he made sure to tighten them shut. If Lavender were to give him that exact look now, he would've burst into tears and bury himself alive.
He cleared his throat as quietly as he could. — I-I mean-uh, she didn’t ask me to take the whole tree. That was my idea. — He admitted. The druids fortunately didn't seem to want to flee yet. — So, technically, I was the one who stole from you.
— … Are you sure? — Bo's tone was full of incredulity. — Fae tend to trick other creatures for their own benefit. It's kinda like their thing. — He assured with certainty while his siblings nodded.
— Bullshit! — The little woman grumbled. — Ugh! I'm going to kill him next week!
— Please don’t. — Finch implored while staring at the roof. The druid's horns seemed rather flammable.
The creatures didn't understand who he was talking to though, so they could only stare at him rather confused. His gaze returned to them. — I'm sorry, Lavender had nothing to do with this. This is all on me.
— Hey, you don't need to take the blame. — She reassured scoldingly. — Druids just think they own everything!
The corners of his lips quirked up softly. — So, if you need to discuss something with anybody, it should be me.
Blue eyes found themselves staring at the three creatures, as his features were naturally filled with kindness. He wasn't about to argue with beings a hundred times smaller than him. Whether the tree belonged to them or not was between their kind and the rest of the inhabitants in the forest.
Bo exchanged looks full of skepticism with his siblings, without saying a word. As if staring at each other gave them the ability to communicate telepathically. Maybe it was the case, yet the giant man had no way of knowing.
— Alright. Would you be willing to give us our tree back and place it where it belongs? It'd be way easier if you did, big guy. — He queried.
Finch bit the inside of his cheek in contemplation. He could easily do it, but...
The long-haired druid tried to say something yet couldn't find the courage. — Please, it has been one of our sources of sustenance for generations. — The other fretted.
— I see. — He would've never imagined that such simple action would affect the order of the forest so much. Then again, he hadn't been awake for a long, long time. — Perhaps we could reach an agreement?
Bo's eyes drifted to various directions, processing what he just said. —... huh?
However, his short-haired sibling covered his mouth before the druid could speak. — What kind of agreement? — They questioned dubiously.
All of them got closer. Even if it was subconscious, it was a clear sign that they were less scared. Or their curiosity was greater. His heart tingled slightly. Finch couldn't recall when was the last time he had exchanged so many words with more than one person!
Who wouldn't be ecstatic?
His brows furrowed in thought. — Well, if you're so desperate for getting this tree back, I'm guessing you don't have plenty to eat. — He hoped that didn't come off as disrespectful. Yet, it strangely made sense. Even if, throughout all his waking moments, the soil had always been rich and full of life. — S-so, I'll plant as many fruit trees as you desire if you let my friend keep this one.
— ... friend? — Bo had already managed to remove his sibling's hand out of his mouth. He stared at the giant as if he had two heads.
— Oh, Finch ... — The fairy sighed. — You don't need to do all that. — Dimples decorated his features.
But he did. Instinctually, he knew it was his responsibility. And maybe that would give him a chance to discover the mysteries of his apparently broken mind. It could even be possible that the grandfather of this trio had some answers. Besides, this was the perfect opportunity to get close in a non-threatening way!
The druids began whispering to each other, weighing the pros and cons. Every couple of seconds, they would stare back distrustfully.
They were taking an awful lot of time. He hadn't noticed how his stomach had become a ball of nerves until now. — Of course, you can take as many apples as you want while they grow. I-In fact, why don't you take some now? — Finch offered, staring anxiously at the fruit.
Bo scoffed hesitantly; crossing his arms. — It's true that in the last couple of centuries we've been ... struggling to get by ... — His gaze found its way to the apple tree. The others avoided making eye contact with the giant.
Who would've guessed these creatures were living in such distress? ... What happened while he was gone?
— We want twenty-No! — Bo's raspy voice brought him back. — Fifty fruit trees planted by the end of summer! — He barked, probably louder than he expected. His deer legs were trembling incessantly. No matter how hard he tried, the little druid was still scared shitless. Nevertheless, he remained firm, staring at him defiantly. Even if they had just met. Finch couldn't avoid feeling proud of him. No one on their sane mind would even dare to get close enough to demand anything from a giant.
He couldn't avoid letting out an amused scoff as he decided right there that he liked the kid. — I can get it done by the end of the month. — Finch revealed with a subtle challenging tone.
A giggle arose from the little cottage. — Look at you, sounding all confident. — The fairy flattered with an alluring cadence.
— I’m just happy I get to help out. — He thought out loud.
— Then I’m glad. — Just imagining Lavender’s smile while tilting her head to the side made his heart flutter in a way he’d never experienced before. The pink tinge had already expanded to the tip of his ears.
The druids took a moment to get back to their senses. None of them could believe the mountain giant had not only agreed to their absurd request, but also that he assured he could get it done earlier.
Bo smirked candidly. Juniper and Opal remained quiet, yet their black eyes were now twinkling with serene intrigue. — Y’know, you’re not what I would’ve expected. You’re not like ... any of us would’ve expected at all honestly. — The druid admitted in between a nervous chuckle, right at the moment his arms surrounded each one of his siblings in a brutely caring manner. Causing one of them to almost trip over.
However, when they realized their brother used the gesture in order to keep his composure, they instantly held him deftly in solidarity. Finch could only grin sheepishly in response. He knew that if he were to start thanking them all excitedly, he'd probably raise his volume by accident. Even so, internally his heart started jumping all over like a little kid.
— Can you start tomorrow? We need to prepare all the seeds. — The druid questioned eagerly, still holding on to their peers.
— Yeah, it's actually perfect. — He nodded. That would give him just enough time to fix up the forest.
Afterwards, the druids proceeded to each gather a handful of apples giddily. Their simple, energetic motions easily managed to reveal just how young they probably were. Finch's chest felt warm as his mind was still processing everything that had just transpired.
Before the trio left, Bo skittishly turned back to the giant man. — Hey, big guy ... — Except this time, his demeanor showed no trace of terror. At first, his mouth opened, uncertain about what he should say. — Thank you. — He simpered.
The giant’s expression softened further when he noticed how their gazes glimmered hopefully. — It was nothing, kids. I’ll be at the pond tomorrow morning, okay? — Finch notified with a caring tone.
There was nothing the little creatures could do to guarantee the giant was going to keep his promise. Nevertheless, they departed calmly; a full sense of tranquility filled their hearts, as their arms were filled to the brim with apples. A symbol of trust between the two races. And perhaps, even an olive branch from the fairy.
— Wow, and to think I’ll have to share you from now on. — The little woman quipped playfully. He knew that she was just joking, but he couldn’t help feeling oddly excited everytime she used that tone.
Finch didn’t want her to stop teasing him.
He suppressed a breathy chuckle. —You’re sure you’ll be alright? — He questioned slightly worried, while his hand retreated from the entrance.
— Yep, in fact, while you were chatting with your new friends, I had just enough time to perform the protection spell. — Lavender affirmed.
Surely enough, if the giant were to focus, he could manage to hear a sort of twinkling, hollow chant emerging from the cabin. Which apparently indicated traces of magic. A quiet expansion from his pupils revealed astonishment, barely perceptible. He would never stop feeling amazed at the little fairy's capabilities. — C-Can I still come to check up on you? I’ll be careful.
— I’m going nowhere, big guy. — She reminded him, using the new nickname to tease him even further. — It’ll actually be nice to have someone to talk to. Speaking of which, you could even save me from dying of boredom. — Finch hoped he’d be able to hear that laugh for the rest of his life. — Just ... please try not to shake the ground so much.
His field of view registered carefully where all of his limbs were, as the giant nodded to himself. — I’ll do my best. — His tone was secure as it softly travelled through vibrations that caressed the fairy’s entire body. — I promise. I’ll see you tomorrow then, yell if you need anything, okay?
And with that, he painstakingly departed his friend's abode by crawling, trying to center his weight through every single movement. It turned out to be harder than he expected, as there were various instances where he couldn't tell where to place his folded knees. Fortunately, the behemoth didn't tumble or crush any trees, not even with his belly. Which even shocked him.
Despite the sun rays that had gradually increased that morning, the fresh air of the forest still had traces of humidity. He hoped there wouldn't be any critters stuck amongst the wreckage of the storm. If that were the case, he owed more than just one apology. Eventually, the giant determined that he was far enough he could get up without disturbing Lavender. As his gaze elevated and the breeze became thinner, he felt the sudden urge to look back. It was baffling that the little cottage could appear even smaller from here. Almost imperceptible if he weren't looking for it.
He couldn't help but wonder if he would even be able to see the fairy now if she weren't inside the cabin. Better yet, how would the fairy react? Would she eventually allow him to see her in her original form? Just imagining it made his head start spinning. And part of him knew it was best to stop haunting his consciousness with the impossible.
It took an immense amount of strength for him to eventually continue the path to venture into the heart of the forest. Calculating each booming step like second nature through the uneven ground, moving and shifting his immense body so as not to disturb anyone. The remaining droplets from the treetops tickled his thighs and knees, reminding him of his unfinished task. Finch had just been so focused on absolutely everything regarding Lavender that he hadn't noticed all the branches and whole limbs from the trees that had ended up knocked down due to the storm, not to mention the immense amount of debris left by the tumbling mountains.
Yesterday during their walk, nothing else mattered to him but her safety, as she quite literally trusted him with her life. Everything that didn't involve getting the fairy back home just seem to blur in a blink of an eye. A pit of worry slowly began to eat him whole. He was aware that he should have done this sooner, and yet, when the fairy asked for his help, he unconsciously abandoned everything else. Including his responsibilities.
This discovery not only left him more confused than before, but it also began gnawing the back of his skull. Because, no matter how he put it, he didn't feel the usual suffocating guilt that pierced through his chest.
He just couldn't.
He inevitably found various sizes of piles scattered throughout the entire area; some hidden better than others beneath the foliage. Swiftly he got to work; strong hands began to gently pick up remnants of fallen pines and rocks, whilst his eyes remained attentive in order not to harm anyone that would've possibly gotten stuck amongst all the chaos. Fortunately, no critter or creature was trapped under the rubble. Finch just had to clean up the entries of multiple burrows and dens, which was entirely worth it. Since the cutest family of rabbits climbed into his palm. — Aren't you the sweetest little things? — With a single digit he methodically managed to pet them all.
… Though, after a bit, they didn’t want to jump down. No matter how much the giant begged them. Thus, he had no choice but to do the rest with one arm. Which doubled the workload, but he didn't mind. He opted to put away anything that might get in the way near the remains of his mountain. When night fell, he placed the little fuzzballs on his chest and surprisingly fell asleep with ease under a mantle absent from moonlight; yet accompanied by the dim glow of stars. Reminiscing on little druids and a certain dragonfly fairy.
The week flew by in a heartbeat, whilst his mind and body remained occupied under the summer heat. Working with Bo and the others turned out to be way more exhilarating than he would've expected. Through each new seed planted, the giant was finally able to distinguish Juniper from Opal. Even though neither of them dared yet to speak to him directly. Unlike their brother, who after getting over his initial doubts, started using Finch as his personal ladder.
— See? I told you he was harmless! — The little druid boasted cockily to Opal while standing on his shoulder as if he were a pirate at the top of his ship's mast.
The giant still couldn't wrap his head around how quickly other inhabitants revealed themselves to him as if it was nothing. He assumed it was because he had already managed to gain the trust of the peculiar trio. They explained to him that druids use their magic to hide their settlement from intruders, and that if the majority agreed, sooner or later their entire community would be revealed to him.
Never in his long-lived existence had something like this happen, or at least he couldn't recall. It all seemed so surreal, as if out of nowhere he began living the life of somebody else. There wasn't a day that went by that didn't end up with his cheeks sore from smiling so much. And the best part was that each time the sun went down, he got to chat with Lavender until one of them fell asleep, who was usually the fairy. It was fascinating to realize that when she did sleep peacefully with her current form, her body would eventually glimmer golden or purplish hues which timidly revealed themselves to the giant through the corners of the curtain.
A warm sense of peace gently surrounded him.
On a particularly sunny day, Finch casually asked the druids if he could meet their grandfather. He couldn't stop thinking about his revelation regarding his memories. — Believe me, the old man wants to see you. But, he's not been feeling well lately and needs as much rest as he can get. — Bo insisted. — I basically had to strap him to bed this morning! — The giant understood and hoped for the best. Getting answers would have to wait.
He was aware that perhaps his mind was just blowing all of this out of proportion. Hence, the reason why he hadn't told Lavender yet. He didn't want her to think that he had gone insane.
However, on her end, across each moonless night it struck him that her playful demeanor had slowly dissipated. And almost every night, Finch would ask her if she was feeling alright and if she had eaten something. To which the fairy would give short answers or deflect, explaining that she was just exhausted and felt desperate for the next moon phase. — I'm just tired of feeling so weak. Don't worry about it, Finch. — She declared. But that's all his brain could do.
Despite his growing doubts, the fairy unconsciously maintained his nerves at ease quite easily: She'd always ask him if he'd be back the next day.
And of course, he did.
On the last night of the week, Lavender shocked him when she spontaneously asked him if they could meet the next day by the pond in the evening. She even requested that he'd bring the shirt she had forgotten on his cave the night of the storm, because she needed it for "something special" and refused to explain herself even further. He had to suppress his excitement from such sudden invitation that taunted him with all the mystery surrounding it.
Finch made sure to finish his work way earlier, so he could wash the little shirt as best he could and let it all day by the sun to dry. He was elated; it felt like an eternity ever since he had seen the fairy!
What was this surprise about?
Did she find something regarding whether she could shrink him?
Or perhaps she only wanted some company? Then, what did she need the shirt for?
Would she hate that his beard had already grown again?
Questions like this filled his sporadic mind during the entire day.
The crescent moon arose proudly to the entire forest. Its shine reflected seductively on the cool water of the pond, as the usual crickets, the howls of the wind and the occasional owl complemented its tempting serenade.
The giant had managed to convince the same fawn he had terrified more than a week ago that he meant no harm as he profusely apologized while waiting for his friend to arrive. He had suggested carrying her like last time, to which the fairy respectfully rejected the idea. Mainly cause she missed being able to walk by herself.
Currently, the little fawn was peacefully resting on Finch's palm near the pond. A single digit bigger than its entire head pet the creature with unexpected dexterity. He was desperately trying to calm his excitement by distracting himself, but to no avail, unbeknownst to the critter who was ever so slowly falling asleep.
The fairy was taking an awful long time. It was rather odd; she didn't seem to be the type of person that showed up late for no reason. A knot began painfully forming on his throat imagining all kinds of "worst case scenarios".
Had something happened to her?
Was she in danger?!
Even the tranquility of the pond was affected by the giant's nerves. His folded legs shifted slightly, anxiously sending vibrations to the body of water.
Before Finch could stand up to look for her, however, a velvet voice reached him.
— Fiiiiiiinch, where are youuuu? — She mused loudly in a drawled out singsong tone. But he couldn't find her exact location beneath all the treetops. Furthermore, her steps sounded closer, yet, for some reason, they stumbled on each other carelessly. He determined the best course of action was to not move an inch.
... What was going on?
The fairy even giggled strangely. — Come out, come out, where ever you aaare! — She went on; it sounded like she was imitating someone or something. But the mountain giant had no clue what came over her.
— Lav? — He called out to her, though received no response. Perhaps the anticipation just made time pass at a turtle's pace. Yet when the fairy finally revealed herself, Finch instantly understood that something was definitely wrong.
Lavender's beauty was truly accentuated by moonlight. Nevertheless, her long locks of hair covered most of her gorgeous face haphazardly. Which explained why she couldn't see him. But that wasn't the end of it. The corners of her lips were elevated into an enraptured smile; a type of smile he had never seen before on her. While her confident posture ironically seemed to barely hold her from just collapsing into the ground.
On her right hand, the fairy sloppily held onto a weird little bottle he instantly recognized. He gulped. — H-hey ... Did you drink all that? — He pondered worringly. Lavender could only giggle excitedly in response.
— Why? Do you want some? — The reflection of the glass almost blinded him.
... He was speechless.
And something told him it was going to be a long, unusual night.
I started making this for gtjuly day 4 but I am the worlds slowest drawer so wtvr!!!
it's funny getting mad at your own characters like "aaa tell her you like her!!" as if its not me writing... oh how I love yuri....
Gt July Day 10 — Squirm
Colfax is being mean to himself (Coco), whooooops. Surely this is not necessary for the magical testing he needs to do.
Happy Hug a Giant Day! ♡
Definitely not late to this at all. Started writing this just this morning so it’s probably still a bit sloppy in parts—sorry about that—but here’s some solid, Curtis and Romanius G/t action. Hugs involved.
Word count: 3.1k
The End (short):
The Calm During the Storm
It had been a slow day. Rain poured in sheets outside the storefront windows, slipping into storm drains with little fanfare besides the occasional thunderclap that sounded much worse than it probably was. Every now and then, a flash of light would illuminate the tiled expanse around them both; the shelves having been pushed up against the walls to create space enough for a twenty-eight foot presence to exist with some amount of comfort. Albeit, without being able to stand.
Curtis listened to the rain as it drummed up against the glass on the wall opposite to themself. It had become some sort of game, determining just how far they could give into the delusion of pretending that this was an entirely different set of drums, in an entirely different world than this one.
The tile was cold beneath their back, the feeling seeping in past the thin of their long-overdue borrowed tee shirt and making them bite down an oncoming shiver. Ceiling panels—despite their intense observation of them going on literal hours now—were really not that exciting. But the individual flecks of paint were worth counting out if it meant not thinking about why the extra space was needed in the first place, who the shirt had come from, or how long it had been since they’d seen him.
Despite their every attempt to avoid it, that oncoming shiver still ran defiantly through them. Unfortunately, the same could be said of their thoughts. Of home, of friends, of places and people far, far away from here who were likely also stranded in places even farther away, and who had maybe also begun tearing up like a bunch of overemotional idiots over it; whose tears were possibly also getting lost in the endless downpour outside and the still, starry patterns of a boring ceiling panel that were all too quickly blurring together into a formless, wet blob of color.
But maybe that was just them. Yeah, in hindsight, it was probably just them. One single, overemotional idiot, stranded utterly alone in the world and about five times as tall as they should be.
Well, okay, fine. Only half of that was true.
“Curtis…?” A voice drifted up, all hushed with worry and drowned out by the storm almost to the point of being rendered inaudible. There was no room to debate whether it had been heard or not, however, because the individual in question promptly winced at the sound of it.
Romanius’ careful approach was signaled only by a pair of boots clicking across the floor, coming to an abrupt halt when a barricade of white fabric and dark hair proceeded to rise up in front of him as Curtis turned onto their side. Blocking his path and, more importantly, his view of their red, tear-streaked face. It wasn’t like the guy hadn’t seen it before. Hell, Curtis was on the verge of a breakdown or two the very day they met. Yet somehow it was that same notion that urged them into hiding it now; he had seen them cry enough as is, they’d reasoned.
When the voice piped up again, it was noticeably louder and more direct. “Curtis,” it scolded once, almost disappointedly, before turning soft in a way that made them want to melt into the earth. “Esne bene?”
It wasn’t a futile effort. The words had not been lost to the cavernous trench of the language gap between them. Hung just a few inches from their head, the repurposed back of a poster marked with the words ‘Conversation Guide’ worked well to prove that. On it, an equal sign scrawled in black marker, among many others, bound the word ‘bene’ to the words ‘okay,’ ‘yes,’ and ‘good.’ Not that they had to reference it too often to recall what each one meant anymore.
Having at least that piece of the puzzle, the rest of Romanius’ sentence essentially worked itself out. “Are you okay?” He’d asked.
Those kind, dark, and infinitely worried eyes of his bored into the back of Curtis’ neck. At least that was the excuse their mind gave for why they found themself choking on their words all of a sudden, the only one that managed to make it out turning short and jagged along the way.
It was yet another that had made it onto their handy language guide. One of the first, actually.
“No,” they answered back, voice raspy and damp to the point of it becoming nearly unrecognizable to themself. Although that particular sensation was far from unfamiliar. “No, no,” the chords broke into sharper and smaller shards with each repetition, their head subtly wagging from side to side as a hand came up to clutch a section of their hair in a loose fist; the other wrapped around a shoulder.
A quiet sigh was lost amid another flash of light and the echoey boom that followed it. Curtis had taken the opportunity to let it drown out one—and only one—shattered, guttural sob. Forgetting completely to account for the way it shuddered through the floor beneath the other’s boots, feeling it for a moment as if it were his own. In doing so, Curtis had instantly given themself away. And, as far as Romanius could tell, they remained unaware of this fact.
Not only that, but Romanius had been noticing a lot of things about this new friend of his lately. Even in just the length of time they’d known each other, since their initial meeting about a week ago.
A week since he had saved their life, the same as the first time he had seen them cry.
A week spent traveling side by side, wandering through empty city streets and camping out inside the grocery store at night; sorting food and trying to talk and playing games to pass the time. Romanius took another step forward.
But then, why? Two people who did not share a language had managed so far to agree on what piles to sort things into, they had formed inside jokes and successfully taught each other the rules to old games they remembered from childhood. Why didn’t that seem like enough? Romanius calmly placed a hand over their shoulder.
Even in this jumbled mess of a situation both people found themselves in—and yet neither could be quite sure of that truth—there was still so much he didn’t know. After all, he had no way of simply asking: ‘are you experiencing the same thing I am?’ Or ‘did you appear here too?’
He wished desperately to know the person whose life he had saved that fateful, foggy day. Such as where they had come from, what home was called, what home was like, and whether they had friends or family waiting for them there. He wanted to know what his companion did for a living and if all people dressed that way where they were from.
But most of all, the question that sat right at the tip of his tongue, suspended in that moment, burning hot like a candle he just couldn’t snuff out; Romanius longed to know who it was they kept crying for.
It didn’t seem like enough because it wasn’t enough, he told himself. This person was not only several times his size, but also barely understood him, in the exact way he’d just been fretting about barely understanding them. There was nothing he could say or do that would be enough to comfort someone like that. Not in the way they needed.
And yet, no matter how hard his mind tried to convince him of that particular sentiment, the less his stubborn heart believed it.
At least there was the one thing he remained certain of, and he would pronounce it as many times as it took to get his friend to turn around and face him again. “Curtis,” he demanded for a third time with a light tug at their sleeve.
Third time’s a charm, apparently, because the man’s persistent nagging had worked like a spell. The shoulder shifted under his touch, causing Romanius to pull his hand back. Stepping even further back as their body slowly repositioned itself, almost sluggish in its care not to ram into him. Those tense, white-knuckled and calloused hands of theirs unclasped from around themself, something Romanius took as a minor victory. A step in the right direction.
As soon as Curtis had finished sitting up, Romanius moved to close the short-lived gap between them, fully aware that the former’s shoulders were now situated at over twice the man’s entire height. Factoring in, of course, the reality that Romanius himself wasn’t always the tallest presence in a room. He’d hit his current height sometime around his early teens and his body had seemingly called it quits then, something his superiors used to mock him relentlessly for. Not that he had any jurisdiction to complain about height issues around the one person who couldn’t stand up under the fifteen-foot-high ceiling of the store.
Simply put, once he had stepped in so close that he was practically brushing up against their side, Romanius was no longer quite sure where to take things from there. And thus, simply put, he stopped thinking about it.
A shallow gasp escaped from somewhere overhead as two surprisingly strong arms seized around either side of their torso, held just above the waist where they were sitting. His reach did not make it the other side.
One could say that all the world fell quiet then. Instead, the honest truth was that this world they’d both stumbled into had always been eerily silent. It would be more accurate to say that the silence, for all of its definite eeriness, and for the first time Curtis could really recall, suddenly felt bearable.
He had a way of making everything feel bearable, didn’t he?
For all the weather’s attempt to ruin whatever day plans the two might have had, the droning cacophony of rain still pounding against the windows had so easily slipped into a static noise. The unforgiving chill in the air that Curtis had felt through every surface, shuddering through each breath, melted effortlessly away beneath the small, solid warmth affixed to their side. A warmth that, to the smaller of the two, was nothing short of all-encompassing. Reinforced by the open hand that had since closed in behind him, draping loosely around what he was certain must’ve been the totality of his upper and lower back combined.
How he hadn’t thought to initiate something as simple as a hug before astounded him, in weather this frigid. To be honest, he was feeling progressively more inclined to stay in this position for the foreseeable future. Perhaps indefinitely. He hoped that Curtis thought so too.
As far as Romanius was concerned, the singular downside to this was that his vision was so wholly consumed by the white wall of fabric in front of him that he’d have to practically fold his neck in half just to catch a glimpse of their face; to search for some hint on their expression that could tell him whether this desperate excuse of a hug was truly effective or not.
Except, he didn’t have to.
As quickly as one massive hand had turned into two, there was a dizzying rush of air before Romanius—back, boots, legs and all—had abandoned the face of the earth.
The ‘hug’ had evidently been relocated to the one place which, to be fair, did seem like the most fitting place for a hug: someone’s chest. At least, it would’ve been for anyone of similar size. The breath had been knocked out of him the second he made impact, more so out of shock than forcefulness. Medically speaking, he was fine. They had just never been this… forward, before. He decided that it was most likely the effect of their emotions acting on them. But still.
In spite of himself, Romanius let out a laugh; short, bright, and unmistakably dazed.
“Sorry,” he heard—as well as felt—the living surface utter through him. Now there was a word he had gotten to know all too well, and wouldn’t mind hearing a bit less of lately. “You… bene?” The guilt in their scratchy throat was thick and tangible.
“Ita!” He replied automatically, his voice returning after he’d finally caught his breath, pushing himself slightly off the fabric cushion. “Yes, Curtis. Bene.” Then, just in case they’d missed it the first time, “bene,” he repeated, collapsing back into the hold with a huff.
There was another crash of thunder outside, but he didn’t notice any light this time. From where he was, there was only warmth, two steady heartbeats, and the faintest blend of smoke, laundry soap, and something vaguely sweet.
As for his own heart, now loud enough from the sudden rush of adrenaline to hear in his own ears, he felt it skip another beat. Could these lingering scents be the answers to his extensive list of unresolved questions? He thought, his mind running a mile a minute trying to make sense of what his heart was telling him. Or, at the very least, were they clues into his companion’s past?
If so, he hadn’t needed the words at all to receive it. He was practically enshrouded by it; that echo of a life impossibly far away from here. The one that constantly killed him over his inability to just up and ask.
Tears and rain alike continued to fall without end. It didn’t matter. Not to him, or to the person he had been lucky enough to stand beside throughout what had surely been the worst week of both their lives.
How lucky that warmth, fabric, smoke, and laundry soap was all they had to show for it.
There was still so little he knew, so little he understood, and yet being there with Curtis felt like the simplest thing in this whole, broken universe.
Beyond the illusive bubble of time and space they both had created for themselves, was a poster hung backwards on a wall, and on it was a word that in Romanius’ speech there was no real translation for. When Curtis had tried to explain it via gestures and context clues, all they’d ended up with on the other end of that equal sign was a small drawing of a heart. And on the English side—
“Thank you,” Curtis quietly sobbed, followed up by a predictable “sorry.”
Romanius scoffed, elbowing the part of their body closest to his right arm, though he couldn’t tell what part that was, exactly. “Non,” he argued back, an almost playful edge to his tone, “non sorry.”
Romanius’ eyes widened upon remembering something, though why in the world the memory had chosen to resurface, he could only be thankful that it did. It was something he’d heard Curtis remark once or twice in an offhand, joking tone to him, whenever he’d gone off on a tangent and, in the heat of the moment, forgotten entirely that all of it was going straight over the other person’s head. Only now, the short phrase stuck out in his mind, its syllables slightly distorted as he attempted poorly to recreate them, but it was worth the risk.
“Shut up, you… desine! Shoosh!”
While sandwiched between an upper torso and a pair of arms that were all respectively longer than his body, he really should have anticipated that startled laugh of theirs to be as incredibly overwhelming a sensation as it probably was. If only he hadn’t been even more distracted by the fact that his stupid, silly attempt at a joke had actually landed. He’d made his friend laugh, and however weak it was from crying, it sounded solely of sweet success to its instigator’s ears. His mind wondered absently whether that face high above even realized how hard or how proudly he was grinning right then.
Minutes that could’ve been hours passed by until he began to sense that his job had been accomplished. A few lazy, reflexive kicks in the air did the trick to get that message across, and the ensuing decent felt notably gentler than the reverse had been. The pair’s minds and bodies were visibly worn out. Romanius even stumbled slightly once his boots hit solid ground again, Curtis’ hand returning briefly to help him regain his balance, which he had accepted with a grateful, eye-squinting smile.
That lasted for about half a second before he felt the chill in the air promptly slice into him, reacting as though he’d just stepped out of a sauna into the icy sheet of winter.
Without so much as an ounce of hesitation, Romanius acted purely on instinct, lunging directly for Curtis’ side in hope of returning to that profound warmth he had since become acquainted with. At ground level, it was more of a wall than an everything, but it would have to do.
The wall in question chuckled to themself again, every motion sending tremors that he selfishly hoped they’d never realize they were causing.
“Esne bene?” They teased lightheartedly, a hand sliding in to rest beside him on the floor while the other was busy wiping broadly at those deeply tired, and now somewhat puffy eyes.
All Romanius did was drop down right next to it, reclining back until his head met with the wall behind them both, swiftly setting his hands up for support as his legs crossed in front of him. “Shut up,” he teased them back, quieter this time, and a light breeze blew past as Curtis exhaled pointedly.
Something else was muttered under a breath, an “I can’t believe I taught you that…” though it was only understood by one, whose voice was now gradually repairing itself from its broken state. It wasn’t perfect, but it was progress.
There was one last thing he wanted to add. Any longer and Romanius was ready to pass out cold—or rather, unexpectedly warm—on the floor.
“Thank you,” he mumbled, the room already forgotten in favor of the backs of his eyelids. And just in case there was any question as to what it was for, he nudged himself slightly further into the corner of Curtis’ nearest wrist.
Just when he thought more short, easy words would return from above, all he received was a languid hum of recognition from his companion. Proving to him that they were clearly as emotionally exhausted as he was.
It was a lazy night inside the campgrounds they had made for themselves. The world beyond the windows remained as foreign as it was foreboding. But somewhere inside, two figures sat side by side as usual, leaning heavily into each other to evade the storm clouds that, mere moments ago, had just begun to part.
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
Prompt comes from @arc852 's Prompt List
Summary:
A thumb-sized Mumbo finds himself stranded on a lilypad. Thankfully, he meets a certain pesky bird who comes to his rescue.
Or Thumbelina, but it's a Grumbo AU.
Vote Story | A Borrower's Bestiary | Part Four | Islands
~ Part Four | Islands ~
“Islands. Let’s go for the islands.”
“You sure?”
“No,” Chance sighed. “But I figured we can check everywhere between here and there and gives us a chance to look for clues.” She watched as the little man sighed, scratched the back of his neck, quite possibly was doubting his life choices, and then nodded stiffly.
“Alright then. Hope you’re a good swimmer,” Garrick said. “Come on. Follow me.” He turned away from Chance and, without waiting, began to maneuver over roots and under leaves in a north, north-east direction. Chance scrambled to her feet to follow as instructed, map crinkling unevenly in her hand, but the need for haste was unnecessary. One of her steps was easily ten of his and simply standing had her towering directly over him, foot landing closer than the Borrower would’ve liked, making him jump as the crash rang out beside him.
“Hey! Watch out!” Garrick darted to the side and made sure Chance could see him.
“Sorry. I’ll be more careful,” Chance apologized briskly, oddly feeling small as she was scolded by the little man. He stared, sternly, but didn’t press further as he turned around and began leading the way once more. He ducked under leaves and balanced along fallen branches. His movements were reminiscent of a squirrel or some small forest creature completely in control of his body. Each leap or twist reminded Chance of an elaborate gymnastics routine.
Unfortunately, it didn’t matter how fast this strange person could twist, flip, and balance. It didn’t change how slow he was by comparison to Chance. Even his top speed had the adult human woman walking heel to toe over the uneven terrain, and Garrick knew it. He could keep a fair pace for days on end, but the Borrower found himself nearly at a full run, sprinting when under the cover of leaves to suggest he was faster when unseen. It wasn’t sustainable, and ten minutes passed in a threatening agony.
He’d just ascended a particularly gnarled branch, catching himself winded, when he noticed that Chance looked like she wanted to say something.
“What?” he heaved, each breath poorly stifled. Throat raw as sandpaper, he attempted to swallow but failed, instead awkwardly gagging on the air he desperately craved. It was the look the human gave him that made her words apparent before she even spoke. He could read it in her features but, winded, couldn’t stop from hearing her spine shuddering suggestion.
“It’s just… I know you’re fast, but if we want to get there by nightfall, would… it be better if I… gave you a lift?” Chance gestured to her shoulder before shuddering. “Gosh! Gosh, that sounds so weird to say! Well, I mean… it would be weirder to say do you want to ride on me because that’s just… uugghh…” Chance groaned, turning scarlet in the cheeks and at the tips of her ears, and covered her face with her hands, which was to Garrick’s benefit as he felt his own cheeks burning at the human’s accidental innuendo. The Borrower quickly recovered, however, and caught his breath as he weighed his options.
He hated the idea of losing his autonomy, relying on this human to move around, especially when this human was so meek of mind to be lured by a splasher. At the same time, ten minutes of sprinting was a compelling motivator. His heart still thundered against his ribs. The lack of water combined with the cracked parched sensation in his throat. Nothing displeased him more than requiring help, especially from a human; and yet he was considering it. It was unnerving. The thought of riding on a human’s shoulder close enough to count freckles and pores on their face sent chills down his spine. To see the fine hairs on the edges of a cheek as tall and as broad as him might be too much. At the same time, he promised three days and there was possibly a child who they could still save.
At the very least, if we end up finding this kid, she might give me more intel if we manage to succeed.
“Fine.”
Chance, eyes widening and ears still scarlet, gawped. “What?”
“I said fine. Are you hard of hearing?” Garrick snipped.
“I… j-... no. I just didn’t think you’d… you know?” While Chance sputtered, Garrick steeled himself, hoping silently he was appearing braver than he felt.
“Look, you made a good point. If we want to get to the islands before dark, we need to move faster, especially if you want to find the kid; if he’s still around. I don’t like it and if you want to take it back, that’s too bad. A good idea is a good idea, even if I don’t like it,” huffed Garrick. Unease filled the space between their words. Neither could look at the other.
Just get it over with!
“Well? Put your hand down here if you’re going to do it.” Garrick noticed Chance’s subtle hand flex as the act of consciously picking up the small man. Obviously, something had changed from earlier to now. Reassuring, but didn’t lessen the roiling in Garrick’s gut. That same unease threatened to beat his heart out of his chest as he watched the woman’s arm swing down, hand extended toward him. He nearly stepped back and away, but hesitated as he saw the tremble in her fingers.
Scared… like me. At least she can’t see me shaking.
Garrick examined the dirt smudges in the prints of the hand in front of him before his eyes traced up the length of the arm. The long sleeves he hadn’t noticed before creating patterns in his mind like how bark on a tree would. Within a fraction of a moment, he’d tracked a path with his eyes all the way up the arm and up onto the shoulder. Jump at the wrist. Grab for the fold at the elbow. Snag the sleeve at the top at the seam and then onto the shoulder. Easy peasy. He bit his lip and jolted his head to one side, as if it were a piece of debris he could shake away, before sprinting up the woman’s arm.
He realized too late that he’d failed to communicate his intentions as he ran past the awaiting hand and felt the arm jolt beneath him as Chance flinched. The world threatened to turn on its side, but the reflexes of the Borrower were quick to adapt. Garrick lunged onto all fours as the arm that was once inclined was now a vertical wall. He caught himself from falling, but slammed into a wall of flesh he hadn’t anticipated. His fingers clasped desperately at the shirt as his attention snapped up to Chance.
“What was that?! You trying to knock me off?” Garrick demanded. Chance’s eyes were wide, mouth agape. Thankfully, she made no additional flailing motion.
“I… sorry… I just… I th-thought you’d… um… that I’d…”
Their miscommunication was plain as day.
“That you’d lift me up? Yeah, well thanks for the heads up. I thought I’d just run right up the side all easy like, but if you’d rather…”
“No. I… it just… I mean… you just… startled me… that’s all. I’m sorry.” Chance’s apology felt genuine enough, though Garrick couldn’t stop the scowl he shot up at her. He swallowed roughly, heart thumping in his throat, before looking back up at her.
“It’s… fine. Just… choose now before I do anything. Are you raising your arm so I can walk over or am I climbing this thing?”
“I’ll raise my arm,” Chance said, nerves making her talk a bit quicker than normal. Garrick watched her exhale as her arm raised slowly, eyes fixated only on him in fascination as he adjusted his stance to compensate for the moving limb beneath him. Arms out to steady himself, Garrick managed to balance as he was brought to be level with Chance’s shoulder. It felt impossible to ignore the woman’s blue-green eyes as they watched his every move, but Garrick attempted to do so all the same. It was only a dozen steps or so, but every step felt heavy simply with the weight of Chance’s eyes. He hated the way her neck craned to look down at him as he knelt on her shoulder and secured himself by slipping a safety pin into her clothes and tying a line onto it.
“Okay, tied down,” he stated as he crouched and braced for her first step, but she didn’t move.
“You… sure you’re good?” asked Chance.
“Yeah, but we won’t be if we’re caught in the water when the sun starts going down, so let’s move,” Garrick’s unease translated into tension in his voice. It went unaddressed as Chance nodded shakily and took that first step forward. He expected to be thrown forward or tossed backwards. Maybe jolted forward. Maybe encased in a hand that feared he was fragile and would fall at a moment’s notice.
Thankfully, that didn’t happen.
Of all the creatures he’d hitched a ride on, Garrick silently acknowledged that this was the easiest by far, which he found surprising. Some of these creatures glided through trees silently while others stomped and scraped up against every tree to spread their scent. Chance seemed to be a complement of the two. He felt each step without feeling the threat of falling at any point. The rhythm let him catch his breath and anticipate when they would connect with the ground. It was like riding an immense wave, and it wasn’t altogether unpleasant.
Not that I’m going to tell her that.
While Garrick clung to the metal safety pin on her shirt, Chance made every effort to walk as normally as possible while ignoring the slightly shifting weight of the mysterious man riding on her shoulder. She kept her eyes focused on the ground beneath her. It was the most unnerving walk she’d ever taken in the woods, and she found a random staircase for crying out loud. Her boots maneuvered over branches and stepped onto clusters of briars that clawed at her pants. Slick mud and brush attempted to trip her. Chance was never more grateful that she was sure footed.
Pays to be an experienced hiker.
Step after step, Chance maneuvered through the woods, eyes scanning the ground for anything and everything that might be a clue as to where the boy might’ve gone. This whole thing about the staircase being some kind of portal felt beyond her, like it wasn’t real. Then again, who was she to question what was or wasn’t real? There was a tiny man on her shoulder afterall.
Time was hard to tell, but Chance guessed she’d been walking for about an hour when the water finally came into clear view. The sound of the water lapping at the edges of the banks created a soothing, rhythmic white noise. It reminded her of home. The miniscule waves cresting along the silt shores. The way the water blended into the scenery with the islands poking out from the surface like dandelions in full bloom in a well trimmed yard.
The beauty of the scene’s tranquility was interrupted as she felt a harsh tug on the lobe of her ear.
“Ow!” She winced.
“What did I say earlier about the water!?” The little man scolded as he tugged on her ear lobe again. “One eye closed!” Chance ignored the bristling feeling rising in her to snap back at this hand-sized person, but thought better of it and instead closed her right eye so he could at least see she was making an effort.
“Sorry. I forgot and… wait… I thought the whole mint blood thing was protecting me.” Chance couldn’t read the man’s expression, but she did hear him sigh.
“Some things are warded off by the mint and the blood as well as cattail fluff. Other things, however, aren’t deterred by it. It’s safer to approach and assume it isn’t going to work rather than assume it is,” he scolded. “Now, big steps. Into the water. I’ll get on top of your hat thing and…”
“What? You mean just wade right into the water?” interrupted Chance.
“Yes. Can you not swim?” retorted Garrick.
“I mean… yeah, I can. I worked as a lifeguard for a few summers and was part of the swim t-”
“Then what’s the problem?”
Chance had to take a breath as she clasped her hands together in a kind of praying motion. “Not to be that way, but you’re being difficult to work with. You tell me one thing and then you tell me another. I don’t have a Matrix style download of what you know, Tiny, so just let me catch up. Okay?” Met with silence, Chance continued. “Anyway, I can swim, but I have questions. Does the blood and mint trick need to be reapplied like sunscreen to keep me from getting attacked? Is there a chance I could get sucked under here? And, if that’s the case, wouldn’t it be better to find a boat or something nearby to float on? I mean, there’s got to be something nearby, right?”
Chance felt distinct footsteps on her shoulder walking to the edge by her arm, a novel and yet unnerving sensation, before hearing, “Fair enough. Though I don’t know what a Matrix download is or whatever, you’re taking all of this better than I suspected a human could.”
“Careful, or I might think that was a compliment.” Chance’s snarky comment slipped out before she had a chance to stop herself. She heard the little man snort as his weight shifted. An image of him sassily folding his arms and looking incredulous filled her mind, but instead she focused on what he said next.
“Well, I used it earlier, so repeat performance. Don’t count on it happening again. At any rate, I thought you wanted to get to where you needed to go quickly. You can take the time you want to try and find a boat or something, but I’m telling you swimming is going to be your best option,” he sighed. “That said, the blood and mint will need to be reapplied for safety, so tilt your face down here and try not to knock me off.”
Chance held her breath out of sheer politeness and tilted her forehead toward her right shoulder while keeping both eyes closed. She could only imagine what his perspective was like, and seeing two massive eyes the size of his body was probably the last thing he wanted. Chance could’ve sworn she heard a wince just before she felt the weight shift and her hat tug as she felt a light, brushing motion on her forehead.
“Done. Safer to keep one eye closed still, but a splasher won’t get you at the very least,” the tiny man stated. “As for your other concern, there are other things in the water, but if you are quick and don’t thrash around, we should be good to go.”
“Then you’d better get on my hat. We’re going swimming, apparently.” Chance approached the water’s edge. The squelch of the mud under her shoes was an unpleasant sound, but not as much as the smell as she waded into the slick mud water. She maneuvered deeper and deeper, pack firmly on her back and not bothering to change, while keeping her one open eye fixed on the island in front of her. The chilled water soaked through her clothes and crept up past her midsection and to her chest. The tiny man scrambled from her shoulder to the top of her hat, using her ear as a foot hold as he secured himself onto the top of her head.
Before pushing off, she asked, “You really think Aiden is on that island?”
Garrick wished he had a definitive answer. He wanted to guarantee the safety of this human kid. Sadly, he couldn’t. He spent years perfecting his skills. The possibility of a kid surviving was next to none.
Then again, stranger things had happened.
“I don’t know. I don’t think so, but if he’s alive, this is the best place to go looking for him,” replied Garrick.
“As good of an answer as any. Hold on.” Chance sunk into the water past her shoulders while sucking in a deep breath. The air in her lungs kept her afloat and, pushing off the bottom, began a very easy breaststroke across the water. The scent of the water that lingered on the surface filled each breath, but she made every effort to keep her head level for the sake of her passenger; that and putting her face in the water was the last thing she wanted when the water clung to a kind of silty, putrid scent of moist earth and decay.
Garrick, fortunately, had fresher air from his vantage point on the top of the human’s head. He crouched and, like a periscope, kept a watchful eye on the horizon to make sure nothing was creeping up on them from above, beside, or below; though that last one was the trickiest. The murk of the water made even the first few inches of the water nearly impossible to see through. Even Chance’s body looked like a hazy blob, edges wavering and smudged beneath the water’s surface.
They were about halfway when Garrick’s keen eyes saw past the surface of the water down to the murk below. The shapes of plants and small fish flickered in and out of visibility, sometimes only for a fraction of a second. The shape of those long, thin tentacles, on the other hand, continued to linger inches away as those familiar yellow-green eyes peered up beside the stones at the base, blending with refracted light.
Don’t freak her out. She’s taking all of this well, but she doesn’t need to know it’s right beneath us, right?
Each stroke brought them closer to the banks, but they were still only halfway. There was no way they were going to be attacked. Garrick had already taken the precaution of the mint and blood, and he was already spreading the cattail fluff behind them.
I should just tell her when I get to the other side, right? It would be safer, right? What if she freaks out here in the middle of the water? She might attract something worse. Then again, she’s taken everything so well so far. She might want to know if there’s something nearby in case she needs to avoid it or swim faster.
Garrick looked down at the hat bill hiding Chance’s face and wondered what he should do. Tell her? Possibly protect them and keep her in the loop? Or just wait? What she didn’t know right now wouldn’t hurt her, right?
| ~ What should Garrick do? ~ |
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What should Garrick do?
Tell Chance about the splasher below them now
Don't tell Chance about the splasher until on the banks of the island