#mini-giant

The ambush had been sudden, and Lady Freyja hadn’t had time to assume a more titanic stature. Between a cadre of clockwork assassins and a Wereboar wielding a gibbering blade of calcified old magic, she was certain that a less experienced knight would’ve easily succumbed to their forces; however, Freyja had fought against far worse odds and the bandits were driven back or destroyed. The caravan was safe, that’s what mattered.

After a moment of catching her breath to cool her lungs, Lady Freyja raised a gloved hand to inspect the gash upon her cheek. She winced at the touch, the wound was still raw. The Wereboar had caught her with his tusk when he came crashing through the treeline–she was just lucky he didn’t get her in the eye. 

The isolated reprieve was cut by the sound of anxious running as Alice bolted across the starlit meadow towards her. Even from this distance, she could hear his labored breathing. She spied glistening tears running down his face as he closed the distance

Hoping to fill him with a degree of reassurance, she weakly raised a hand and forced a tired smile.

“Well now…that was fun, wasn’t it…?” Lady Freyja mused. “Never seen a man argue with his sword before…blighter sure did have sharp tusks though…”

Alice didn’t look amused. He was hyper focused. He threw his gnarled crook down in the grass before clambering up into her lap and kneeling upon her thighs. 

“Are you bleeding anywhere else?” Alice asked breathlessly, his eyes flickering between her open wound and his satchel as he rummaged around for reagents. He was clearly taking charge in this situation, and Lady Freyja had to admit she felt some heat in her cheeks at seeing him so driven to make sure she was okay.

“N-No,” Freyja admitted as she blinked with surprise. “Bruised and banged up, sure…but just bleeding on the cheek.”

Despite the bravado, Alice still quietly cried fresh tears as he fished out some herbs and glowing pink dust. He worked them around in his palms before they dissolved and sunk into the flesh. He flexed his fingers as he reached out, his hand floating just above the gash.

“This will hurt a bit,” Alice warned softly. At that, Lady Freyja smiled and reached a hand up–her fingers gingerly curling around Alice’s forearm. 

“You could never hurt me, my little love,” Lady Freyja rumbled confidently. She guided him the rest of the way till his palm gently rested over the wound–his fingers curling to the fit curvature of her cheek. The contact stung, but it was accompanied by a delighted shiver from the Knight Colossus as she reveled at his touch. “I trust you.”

Alice swallowed, then nodded. He closed his eyes as he rested his forehead against hers.

She heard him whisper things she couldn’t understand. Words and names that made her skin crawl and her spine tingle. And though she could not understand the words, she understood the meaning:

It was a petition.

Lady Freyja couldn’t tell if it was her imagination, or if the night was just getting…brighter. And though the night chill nipped at her skin, Alice’s hand felt like a soothing fire upon her cheek. She felt her heart race a little bit more at what she could only describe to be a moment of intimate communion.

She inhaled slowly as she felt a pain working from the bottom of the cut  that slowly crept its way up. Eventually the pain was replaced with a soothing warmth…and when that warmth faded Alice reopened his eyes. He carefully pulled his hand away from her cheek and visibly relaxed. Steely determination melted to pure relief as his lips quivered into a smile.  

“Oh thank the gods,” Alice exhaled before putting both of his hands on her face now and just started kissing her repetitively. “Y-You’re okay…you’re okay…

“I was so worried…” Alice admitted through tears that wet her skin. “I-I-I didn’t know if that would work, I-I wasn’t sure. I had never tried that spell before, I wasn’t sure if I could be able to pull something like that off-”

Lady Freyja’s other hand went up to take up his other forearm. Alice pulled back with surprise.

“You beautiful, beautiful man,” the Knight Colossus crooned. “May I see your hand?”

Alice blushed and nodded. Lady Freyja took his clean hand and rested hers beneath it. The whole hand was perhaps only the length of her middle finger, yet she marveled at it. His hands, small as they were, had written hundreds of thousands of words both to document creatures near and far and to write passionate poetry to smite her Giant’s heart. This hand had turned stone to silver, and had stitched back together grievous wounds with only the faintest murmur of a prayer.

Her angel had a spark of the divine within him, whether he saw that or not.

She brought his hand up and deeply kissed the entire palm. It was so soft. She closed her eyes and inhaled deeply. She smelt graphite, lavender, and pine needles. She just…melted.

She let go of both his hands and gingerly wrapped both arms around his chest. She brought up a hand to cup the back of his head before leaning in to bury her face against his chest. She could feel his heart racing, she could feel the weight of his breathing. She felt his delicate arms wrapping themselves around her neck. 

It was a special thing he was able to do. Bond with his boys, let him know he loves them. Even if he was still wearing his uniform from either getting home late at night, or needing to leave almost as soon as they went to sleep. The upside of working at a children’s restaurant at least meant he’d learn about new titles to add to their collection. 

When ‘Alice In Wonderland’ came up, Scott became concerned why a ten year old was reading something that wasn’t necessarily meant for someone so young. But then he was displayed the book, the word ‘Disney’ also proudly printed on the cover. 

A moment to flip through it declared he wouldn’t mind sharing the adaptation. As short, filled with color, and different than it was to the original book he read in high school, it’d be interesting to see what his sons thought about it. 

Not much. It wasn’t a completely forgotten story that still got requested at least once a month, but they certainly enjoyed ‘Jack And The Beanstalk’ better. 

Odd he thinks about that now of all times while he should be worried about much more important things. Such as the brown ears constantly getting in the way after magically appearing on top of his head. Dressed in fashionable trousers and vest. 

God, what now? 

He has paperwork to do and he is not in the mood for getting teleported somewhere a bit too bright for his eyes. Why are the leaves blue? And what the hell is-? 

Wait a minute. 

Scott huffs quietly at seeing he’s standing in front of a table. The only problem is he can’t see what’s on it. Not with it currently towering high above him. A glance at his arms and legs confirm he’s in fact still human. But apparently he’s half rabbit, including their height of only two feet tall. 

Great. Exactly what he needs. Being teleported somewhere that looks straight out of a children’s book while shrunk. 

...blue leaves. 

The eldest guard hesitates before slowly backing up. Knowing he can’t possibly make it, but not seeing any chairs around for him to use, he’ll have to try and jump to at least grab the edge and pull himself up. Because he has a sneaking suspicion of what’s going on. Something he certainly doesn’t enjoy. 

Shaking himself, Scott takes a moment to eye the distance. And instead of looking around for something to possibly stand on instead, he immediately runs and- 

“HOLY SHIT!” 

Scott yells as his leap sends him skyrocketing like he bounced on a springboard. Clean over the seemingly small distance to the table top, a few feet into the air and way too high not to get hurt from. His heart thumps are he tries to think of how, but the problem is he’ll never learn as he screams, racing back down to the hard ground, briefly catching sight of what seems to be at least a hundred tea cups scattered across the table. 

OH-! 

“SCOTTY!” 

A wheezing scream emits as the guard finds himself caught. Not by the ground that would’ve left him bleeding, bruised, and with a broken bone, but by something that talks. And holds him like he’s a child in their arms. A worse fate than death. 

“Vince?” 

“Look at you, Scott!” has the man in question stumbling back as he’s set down, still trying to understand what happened and his body stating the sudden halt of momentum wasn’t the best for his health. “Aren’t you the cutest March Hare?” 

A glare is sent toward his best friend at that, only to realize Vincent isn’t only two inches taller than him. Instead the eldest guard has to look up. Tilt his head to properly see the smirk hovering high above. Too tall for him to smack the asshole upside the head. 

Isn’t that just great? 

“Why didn’t you put me on the table?” has the purple man shrug. That’s when the top hat with a 10/6 is finally noticed. The one he distinctly remembers being the- “Of course you’re the Mad Hatter.” 

A wink is sent down at him before Vincent looks around the small clearing Scott still didn’t get a good view of despite his near encounter with death. It’s a minute before his best friend hums and walks away. “HEY!” 

“Better keep up, Scotty!” 

A growl is sent after the one still at least five feet tall before he’s quickly racing after his best friend. Not wanting to be left behind. Especially in a world based around ‘Alice In Wonderland’. Dangerous even before it was potentially altered. 

At least whatever let him jump so significantly allows him to keep up pretty well. Follow after the one and only true Mad Hatter into the horror that awaits them.