#hmbd

“Oh, that’s okay,” Patton said, folding onto his knees to sit on the edge of the bag’s opening. “I can just explain from over here. I would come to sit in the bag with you, but last time I did that I got held hostage and Logan put a ban on interacting with terrified strangers without his direct supervision.”

“That, uh, seems rather fair,” Roman offered, still wildly out of his depth. Virgil rolled his eyes, a hand on the hilt of one of his daggers in case the stranger made any sudden moves.

“Who’s Logan?” He asked, eyes flickering up to what little he could see through the opening.

“Oh, he’s the one who rescued you!” Patton said cheerily. Virgil broke out into a cold sweat immediately.

“Rescued?” Roman echoed in disbelief. “Are you talking about the giant? Because I’m pretty sure he just abducted us against our will.”

“No, no, it’s not like that!” Patton insisted, only confirming Virgil’s theory that he was probably brainwashed and/or had Stockholm syndrome. Or both. Or a variety of other, worse options, such as yet another cult member or another giant in disguise.

“Easy, Virgil.” Roman laid a hand on his shoulder, grounding him. “Uh-- Patton, was it? If we’re not being… y’know… kidnapped and imprisoned, do you think you could back up so we can get out of the bag?”

“Of course!” Patton answered, popping back to his feet. “I’ll be right out here, take your time! I’m sure the last couple of hours have been rough.”

Virgil tried not to snort. Rough was one word for it. His amusement died a quick death when Roman began moving towards the opening. He latched onto the other man’s arm like a steel trap. “I don’t trust this.”

“You don’t trust anything,” Roman retorted automatically before softening. “It’s okay, I’m just checking to see what’s out there. Won’t even get out of the bag, on my honor.”

Virgil reluctantly followed him, grabbing onto him tightly as though he could keep anything out there from hurting him by yanking him back into the bag.

Roman ducked his head back under the cloth a moment later. “Okay. Bad news, there is absolutely a giant still out there. Good news, he’s all the way over across the room, reading a book. He is steadfastly ignoring both us and Patton, who waved at me.”

“What.” Virgil clutched at his hair. “What is going on?”

“I suspect we’ll have to ask Patton that. If we want answers, we’ll have to go get them,” He said, patting Virgil on the back encouragingly. “Don’t worry, my Dark and Stormy Knight, I’ll keep you safe.”

“My job,” Virgil grumbled, not releasing his grip on Roman’s wrist as he led the way out of the bag.

Everything was huge. He should have expected it, seeing as this was a giant’s home, but it still threw him off. They were on a huge table, in a huge living room, and the giant was indeed across the room with a huge book, pretending like they didn’t exist. From this distance, Virgil could actually take in all of him without feeling like he was going to pass out.

Patton was sitting a few feet away, and beamed at their approach. Virgil barely tore his eyes away from the giant long enough to nod distractedly at him. “Hi again! Are you guys okay?”

“We’re… fine,” Roman said, uncertain. “I think we’d just like to know what’s going on?”

“That’s totally understandable!” Patton replied, sympathetic. “I was pretty jittery after Logan first brought me here, too!”

“Oh, great,” Virgil muttered to Roman. “Serial kidnapper.”

Roman shot him a look before turning back to Patton. “He brought you here? Could I ask… why?”

“The same reason he brought you two here! I was in danger.” Patton glanced over to the giant with a fond smile before leaning in secretively. “To be honest, I think he was even more worried than I was! I was sort of stabbed at the time, though, so I guess that makes sense.”

“How were you ‘sort of stabbed’? You’re either stabbed or you’re not!” griped Virgil, who was possibly feeling more snappish than normal after one of the most stressful experiences of his life.

“My goodness, you were stabbed?” asked Roman, who had always been a sucker for a dramatic tale.

Patton tugged up the edge of his shirt, displaying a nasty-looking scar that curved around his side and stomach. In Virgil’s professional opinion, there was nothing ‘sort-of’ about a wound like that; it had been meant to kill. “Yeah, the people you met in town, they’re a cult! And they wanted to do a blood sacrifice for the monsters in the woods, and I wasn’t exactly well-liked, so…,”

“They stabbed you and left you for dead?” Virgil finished, a bit of anger leaking into his voice despite his determination not to sympathize with this guy.

“But I didn’t die!” Patton waved his hands a bit as though in celebration. “All the monsters in the woods had already been scared off when Logan moved here, and so he was the one who found me and helped me recover!”

Roman glanced over at the giant again, a speculative look in his eye that Virgil absolutely did not approve of. He scowled, his grip on Roman’s wrist tightening slightly.

“Right, and he just did this out of the goodness of his heart?” Virgil snorted dubiously. “I wouldn’t believe that from another human, let alone someone with a literally huge advantage over us. If your story is true, why didn’t the cult try to gut us? For that matter, if he’s not into human sacrifices, why wouldn’t your buddy over there just tell them to stop? Or, y’know, not kidnap us in the first place?”

“Well, hold on--,” Patton tried, but Virgil was on a roll.

“How do we know that this isn’t some elaborate setup? If he has the magical capabilities to heal a mortal wound, then wouldn’t it be easy for him to enchant a captive into believing that he’s just doing what’s best for him? Before, you said there were other people brought here-- what happened to them? Do you even know?”

Across the room, there was a sharp clap as the giant firmly snapped his book shut.

“They left,” Logan said firmly, the first words that they’d heard from him. “And if you continue to harangue my housemate, I will ask you to do the same.”

“Logan,” Patton said, a little exasperated.

Virgil felt a chill run down his spine at the sight of those huge, dark eyes locked onto him, but he plastered his best snarl on even as he dragged a protesting Roman partially behind him. “We’d be glad to leave, but someone put us on a table ten times our height!”

“Virgil,” Roman tried, but Virgil didn’t have the luxury of not paying attention to the pissed off giant in front of them.

“There’s a staircase down to your left,” the giant informed him coldly, “so if you are intent on watching your companion die from organ combustion, you have my utmost permission to leave.”

Logan!” Patton chided, a lot exasperated. He turned back to them. “He doesn’t mean it like that, I promise.”

“Really?” Virgil snapped, crowding Roman back further. “Because it sure sounds like he just outright threatened to kill us if we leave.”

“Oh, for goodness’ sake.” Logan pinched the bridge of his nose before rising easily from his chair and reminding them all just how big he truly was. “This is why I let Patton handle the talking. I don’t know why humans always insist on making this more difficult than it needs to be.”

Virgil’s heart jumped into his throat as the giant approached, a thousand potential ways they were going to die flashing before his eyes. Behind his back, he flashed Roman a hand sign that meant ‘run for it’, and then released his friend’s wrist to draw one of his knives threateningly.

It was a pointless effort, but he’d known since setting out with his prince that one day he’d die for him.

Sure enough, the giant moved with that same uncanny speed he’d shown in the clearing, and simply grabbed Virgil’s forearm between his fingers as easily as one might scruff a cat, preventing any stabbing.

When Virgil immediately went to grab for another knife with his free hand, he found himself abruptly lifted and maneuvered, and couldn’t help letting out a startled yelp. The giant had essentially flipped him onto his front and settled one hand on his back as a weight, leaving him pinned and the giant firmly out of stabbing range.

More concerning was the fact that he could now see Roman, who hadn’t moved more than a few steps, and not just because he was a stupidly loyal, headstrong idiot. The prince seemed almost dazed, his skin shiny with sweat as he glanced between Virgil and Logan. Something was wrong. “Roman--!”

“You’re beginning to feel it, aren’t you?” Logan said, his cold tone thawing slightly as he looked down at Roman. “The cult of that town has only grown more... inventive with every cruel sacrifice they attempt. Rather than physical injuries, they’ve turned to blood curses, which has made my life exceedingly difficult.”

“Blood-- Blood curses?” Roman managed, looking more pallid by the moment.

The giant set a free hand down, palm up in offering. “I can reduce the effects. If you give me sufficient time, I can unravel the curse entirely, though brewing a countercurse will likely necessitate a drop of your blood.”

“Why go to the trouble?” Roman asked haltingly, meeting Virgil’s frantic gaze for only a moment. “What do you want in return?”

Logan sighed. “If you insist on applying such intentions to my actions, you can call it compensation. It is because of my presence that the cult continues to leave ‘offerings’, and thus your current state is my fault.”

“Then why not just do it?” Roman asked, staring at the offered hand with clear suspicion. Virgil was almost proud.

“Patton has gone to great lengths to teach me manners for interacting with smallfolk,” Logan replied dryly. “The first of which being ‘don’t grab.’”

There was a brief moment of silence as they all looked to Virgil, who was still pinned and sorely wishing he was in biting range of Logan’s hand.

“Manners don’t apply if someone is trying to stab me,” Logan added, a beat late.

Patton waved from where he was half-hidden behind Logan’s arm. “It’s true, my lessons did make an exception for stabbing!”

“Let him up,” Roman requested, his voice lacking its usual bravado. He still appeared concerningly ill. “He won’t stab you, right Virgil?”

Virgil grumbled something uncomplimentary under his breath, before sighing and going limp. “All I want is to protect my prince. If you actually mean to help him, I won’t stab you.”

“Now that stabbing is off the table, I’ve gotta say, it’s knife to meet you,” Patton chimed in, his grin audible in his voice.

“Patton, please,” Logan groaned, lifting his hand off Virgil to instead massage his temples in exasperation. “You’re going to disturb our guests.”

“Aw, are you sure? I think my jokes are stabsolutely hilarious!”

Virgil ignored the ridiculous byplay between the two of them to scramble to his feet and hurry to Roman’s side, ignoring the way Logan moved his arm slightly to be between him and Patton. “Roman, are you okay?”

“Are you? You’re the one who just got gently tenderized by Bignoramus over there for the second time today,” Roman countered, matching Virgil’s whisper.

“Fine, stupid question, clearly neither of us are okay. Are we really doing this, though? We could still run.”

“I’m… not sure we can, actually.” Roman’s hand hovered over his chest, face drawn tight with pain. “They definitely did something to me, and I doubt either of us will figure out how to fix it or get aid in time. … Look. This may be my only option, but you don’t have to--”

“Can it, Princey,” Virgil cut in, dragging a hand through Roman’s hair roughly and ignoring his resulting squawk. “Where you go, I go.”

“Even there?” Roman asked, tilting his head toward Logan’s palm somberly.

Virgil looked over to Logan, watching the attentive way he was listening to Patton speak and contributing words of his own. The giant could have done away with any of them at any point, and he hadn’t. That wasn’t enough to really trust him, it could still all be part of some scheme, but... it had to count for something.

If it was the only thing that could help Roman, Virgil could push aside his fear and his anger.

He wasted a few moments wiggling his hands around to try and reach the knives in his boots, before realizing that whoever had left him tied to a tree had taken those as well. Thorough. He was almost impressed.

He cleared his dry throat. “Hello? Anyone there?” 

“Oh, finally awake, Charming?” A dry voice called out from behind him. 

Roman brightened at the sound of his trusty bodyguard. “Virgil!” 

“Shut it!” Virgil snapped, still out of sight. “These ropes are enchanted and those goddamn cultists only just left, so keep your voice down.”

“Cultists?” Roman responded, voice lowered slightly. “For what purpose?” The ropes around him tugged painfully, but Virgil still answered. 

“Don’t sound so intrigued. I don’t know why, I only just managed to slip out the inn window after I heard the ruckus you were making downstairs. Y’know, getting yourself captured?” 

“I was drugged!” Roman complained, shoulders shrugging as he tried to throw his arms up for emphasis. “We can’t all be vigilant enough to check for poisons every minute.” 

Virgil hissed. “You’re a prince, I’ve had to foil so many assassination attempts, you should know better than- !” 

He cut off suddenly, and Roman waited for the rogue to sigh with irritation, or maybe tug at the ropes again to vent his frustrations, but nothing happened. “Virge?” He asked, visions of the locals sneaking up behind his friend to attack crossing his mind. 

“Shhhh.” Virgil said, suddenly right beside him. “Something’s coming.” 

“Something?” Roman whispered, alarmed. 

“Yeah, did you think they were stringing you up for the birds to eat? Hate to break it to you, but human sacrifices to monstrous creatures is a pretty common tactic of cultists, Princey!” Virgil ranted under his breath, pulling another blade from somewhere on his person to saw at the ropes. 

Sure enough, when Roman strained his ears, he could hear a distant thunder. Whatever was coming, it was big enough to shake the ground beneath them. He was the main hitter of their undersized party, and whatever it was, Virgil couldn’t take it alone. “Virgil, hide!” 

The hooded man spent another second slashing at the ropes before cursing and ducking away. 

Just in time, as only a moment later, the trees in the distance were gently pushed aside to make way for a huge figure. 

“Giant.” Roman breathed, craning his neck to look up and up and up at the creature. “Of course it would be a maneater.” 

Virgil made a small, choked sound from behind the tree. Roman privately agreed, though he kept up a brave face.

The giant was easily taller than any building he’d ever seen, with dark brown hair and handmade glasses sitting atop his nose. He crouched down onto one knee, lowering himself enough that he could properly see Roman, and stared at him with a placid gaze. Roman almost wished there was some hunger or disgust visible, so he’d at least know what to expect. 

“Are you the one for which the cult-like townspeople have left me like this?” He asked, raising his voice slightly. 

The giant stared back, quiet. Roman wondered if he even spoke the same language. He wouldn’t particularly want to learn the language of what he was eating. Of course, he wouldn’t want to eat something that spoke back to him at all. 

“Wh- What are your intentions?” He tried, and then immediately regretted it when the giant reached out with a massive hand. He flinched as it came close, and then his eyes popped open at the sound of tearing. 

The giant was simply shredding through the ropes with one sharp nail, heedless of whatever enchantment had been put on it. Roman was quite suddenly glad Virgil had hid; the rogue’s combat ability was heavily spell-based, and if this giant was resistant or even immune… it would have been a disaster. 

His thoughts were interrupted as he dropped to the ground fully, no longer held up by the ropes. He stumbled slightly, his hands still bound together, and took a step back, looking up at the giant. “Uh, thank yoOOH NO.” 

He attempted to duck away from the hand now descending upon him, but it was a futile motion. Warm, leathery skin wrapped around him, pressing in and stopping his struggles to get away. The hand was big enough to enclose most of his body in the fist, and he felt utterly helpless. “Let me go!” 

Contrary to his demand, the giant lifted him higher, until he was eye level. Roman tried not to look at the dizzying drop below, but the face before him was little comfort. The keen gaze trailed over him, the giant hand opening slightly and fingertips pressing him back against the palm. He felt… assessed. He shivered, twisting to try and get some leverage. “I’m serious, let me down! You can’t just grab people!” 

The giant looked away, dismissively, probably because he knew that he could just grab people, as currently evident by Roman’s inability to stop him. The giant lowered his hand, turning on his heel in a motion that made Roman feel sick. The giant took a step, apparently intending to bring Roman to whatever lair he had come from, and Roman took some solace in at least knowing that Virgil wasn’t in his place. 

“Hey! Stop right there!” A familiar voice yelled, and the giant paused. 

Roman’s stomach dropped. Or not.

Virgil swallowed thickly as the giant’s cold eyes turned to him. He had his dagger out and pointed at the giant, as though it wasn’t smaller than the giant’s smallest fingernail. 

“Virgil, just run!” Roman called, and groaned when the man only answered with a sharp shake of his head. “You stubborn asshole!” 

Virgil ignored him entirely, body tense. “P… Put him down. Or else.” 

The giant sighed through his nose, and then reached down again, making Roman’s heart drop. He yelled a warning, but Virgil was already darting away from the grasping fingers. Silver flashed in Virgil’s hand, and a line of red opened up on the side of the giant’s palm. 

Roman didn’t even get to cheer for first blood, because the hand around him tightened in response to the pain, forcing all the air out of his lungs in a wheeze. 

On the ground, Virgil looked up at him with concern, and the moment of distraction cost him. The giant hand slammed into him, throwing him a few feet forwards and knocking the knife clear from his grip. Virgil scrambled towards it on hands and knees, but before he could get far, the hand settled on him, palm down. Just the weight of it was enough to immobilize Virgil. 

“Wait, wait!” Roman cried, terrified that the giant was going to increase the pressure of his hand until Virgil popped like a grape under the force. “Don’t hurt him! Please, I’ll do anything, just let him go!” 

The giant glanced at him for a moment, and then drew his hand upwards, fingers pinching inwards like a hawk’s claw until Virgil’s wriggling form was caught in the bend of his fingers. Roman strained against the ropes binding his hands desperately as Virgil was lifted into the air. “Please!” 

This time, the giant didn’t even spare him a glance before he moved both hands to a relatively small pouch on his hip. To them, of course, it was massive, and when he tipped his hands, they both easily slid into the soft fabric, colliding in a corner of the bag. 

The giant began to walk again, long strides that swung the bag back and forth, and Roman cursed as his head collided with what was probably Virgil’s shin. “What were you thinking? I don’t want you stuck here with me!” 

“Oh, I-“ Virgil sucked in air between words, face pale, “I was not about to let- my only friend get carried off by a giant- to who knows where- never see you again!” 

Roman felt his eyes grow hot with angry tears, and he kicked out at the flexible wall of the pouch. “This is my fault.” 

“Oh yeah, the- the fucking giant has nothing to do with it.” The rogue pulled out a knife, trying to work it into the huge fibers, but it just slid off the cloth ineffectively. Virgil tugged on his hair, near-hysteric. “What am I doing- even if I got through, we’d just- fall!” 

Virgil’s breathing grew shallower, and he turned to his friend, concerned. “Hey, Virgil? Breath with me, buddy, it’s okay, it’ll be okay-“

“Can’t-“ Virgil choked out, body trembling. “Can’t breathe, I-“ 

He cut himself off with a sob, and the movement around them suddenly paused. Virgil went frozen, locking wide eyes with Roman for a heartbeat.

Without warning, fingers dipped into the pouch again, making both of them scramble to get away. Roman twisted around just in time to see Virgil’s leg get pinched between two fingers, and he lunged for Virgil’s hands. 

They brushed fingertips before Virgil was pulled up and out of reach, and Roman tumbled back to the bottom of the pouch. He shouted wordlessly, terrified for his friend. Why had the giant taken him? Because he was making too much noise by having a panic attack? What was the giant doing to him?

He went dead silent, straining to hear past the rustle of fabric as the giant started moving again. He knew he didn’t want to hear it, whatever fate the giant decided on, didn’t want to hear Virgil scream or sob or go suddenly quiet. Were they just snacks to the giant? Morsels that he could eat if he got peckish along his journey, or if they were too bothersome, too loud in their fear? 

Roman couldn’t hear Virgil’s screams, or the sound of molars grinding down on flesh and bone, but that didn’t really mean anything, did it? Not when the giant’s mouth was easily big enough to fit one of them whole. He shuddered, bile in his throat, and wished again that Virgil had just run, had just left him to the consequences of his idiocy. 

Stuck in his self-loathing, he didn’t realize the pouch was being opened until Virgil was dropped on top of him. He yelped, and then immediately latched onto the rogue like a starfish. “Oh my god, you’re okay, you’re okay!”  

Virgil, stunningly, seemed calmer than before, reaching up and hugging Roman firmly for a long second. Roman leaned back. “What did he do? Did he talk to you?” 

Virgil shook his head. “No, it was... he just held me against his chest. All I could hear was just breathing. He didn’t do anything else, he didn’t even look at me.”

“What?” Roman said, and then pressed his forehead against Virgil’s. “Whatever, I don’t even care. I thought-“ His throat closed up.

Virgil patted his back, awkwardly. “There, there. Leave the worrying to me, okay?” 

Roman chuckled weakly, and they fell into a hushed silence. Now that he wasn’t flooded with adrenaline, his headache was pounding a painful rhythm against his skull. His head drooped slightly.

“Go to sleep, Princey.” Virgil said, quiet. “I’ll wake you up if anything changes.” 

He wanted to protest, but he trusted Virgil, and he was truly tired.

When he woke up, it was to Virgil holding a finger to his lips in the sign for quiet. 

“He stopped walking. I think we’re- woah!” Virgil was cut off by the bag around them abruptly shifting in altitude, and then being plopped down on a solid surface. The fabric bunched around them, and they shared a look before the bag opening was pulled open, but not by oversized fingers.