sage

A giant and tiny are sleeping together, the tiny being pinned under the giant’s cheek as they rest on their side. Maybe they were inebriated, maybe they were just messing with their buddy, but either way the tiny is stuck now. They don’t mind too much; this isn’t the first time it’s happened, and the weight is more comforting than crushing.

The tiny wakes up first in the morning, eyes fluttering open as they feel a strange sensation. They lift up their free arm, noticing a thick string of saliva pulls up with it, hanging from their hand down to their torso.

“YUCK!” the tiny shouts, flicking their arm to get the spit off. The exclamation alerts their sleeping pal, who frees the tiny as they lift their head, now looking down at their friend.

“Wha…” they drowsily trail off, half-lidded eyes eventually falling on the tiny. “What’s wrong?”

“You drooled on me, you big lug!” The tiny’s arms remain lifted, not daring to touch any more sticky saliva than they already have to.

The giant hums, a small smirk spreading across their face. “I can fix that.”

They lean down toward their tiny friend as their tongue appears from between their lips, and in one massive swipe, the giant licks them from legs to head.

The tiny is stunlocked, eyes wide and mouth slightly agape once their friend raises back up and their tongue disappears.

“Got that extra spit off?”

Tiny hands lift a single drop of water to tiny lips, breaking the surface tension of the droplet by sucking in some of the liquid. Refreshing as it is, it has no effect on the tiny’s stomachache, which dances around their insides like there’s no tomorrow.

What is the best course of action? Go back outside? As soon as the thought hits them, one of the branches of the tree outside breaks free from the stump, beating against the window like a thunderclap. If the wind can do that to a giant tree branch, what’ll it do to a minuscule creature like them?

Is there any other option? They can’t hide from the unknown number of giants here, which is some pretty big news to the tiny. The nameless giant’s word choice reverberates through them. “You would regret running into one of them.”

Regret.

The tiny tries to swallow down their own thoughts with another drop of water. There’s no time to dwell on the repercussions of a decision they haven’t made yet.

Maybe they just haven’t hidden well enough yet. Sure, they were under a table that should’ve been out of the giant’s line of sight at all times, but they could of miscalculated, or maybe it was one very attentive giant. They can still avoid the others… hopefully.

They hear shuffling from far behind the door, though not necessarily moving toward the room. Still, it’s enough to snap the tiny out of their own thoughts. Taking in one last drop of water, they continue to scope out their area, taking note of worthy hiding places to dash into if the door happens to open.

A hoodie drapes over a chair in the room, the sleeve of which hanging freely toward the floor, just within arm’s reach of the tiny. Why not investigate? They walk beneath the hole of the sleeve and pull at the fabric, finding it gives way just a bit, flowing further to the floor over the tiny’s head. The investigation stops in its tracks when the door reopens.

Without a second thought, the intruder pulls at the fabric even more, cloaking themself in the sleeve as the lip of the fabric touches the rough carpet. The reverberating footsteps around the room feel familiar. Is it the same giant as before?

Before they can come to a conclusion, the tiny feels their cover start to lift away from them. In a panic, they grab at the inner sleeve’s fabric and grip it between their legs, pulling more of it into a tight hug as they’re lifted.

Their eyes squeeze tightly shut at the immense movement, unable to process the next move as they’re suddenly flipped upside down, feet kicking upwards. The fabric above (or below?) their head begins to contort together, and the tiny takes the opportunity to flip around, head facing the sleeve’s hole as they use the now closed end as a pseudo floor.

Once their head breaches from the claustrophobic sleeve, they’re greeted with a gigantic, blank expression. Their eyes widen. So they were right. Same giant. The titan’s arm extends beneath the tiny, bunching the sleeve beneath them in a fist to serve as their platform.

“Really? That was your master plan?”

Breath hitched and limbs shaking, the tiny looks away, face twisting up at the comment as they avoid eye contact. “I never said that.”

“You sure are lucky, aren’t you?” The giant snickers, to no response. “So, you’re sticking around?”

The tiny shakily peers over the lip of the sleeve, noticing the foliage outside the window still thrashing violently. The giant twists their neck back, noticing the same.

“Ah. Got it.” They turn back to their captor. “Well, guess I can’t stop you.”

The tiny pauses. “You won’t do anything to me?”

The giant cocks an eyebrow. “Do anything to you? What do you mean?”

“… never mind.”

“I’m not that type of person. Your presence makes no difference to me. Even if I can’t say the same for…”

The hinges of the door groan as a new figure enters the space. The tiny barely has time to process the new giant before ducking beneath the lip of the hoodie sleeve, staring up at their slackjawed captor.

All they could take note of is their smug grin, and much more impressive stature.

A tiny whose been trying to adjust to being around their giant for a while now, stepping more and more outside of their comfort zone despite being a little jumpy. Their giant buddy is really kind and accommodating, taking things slow and letting their little friend adjust at their own pace (while occasionally teasing them).

The giant is lying on their back on a couch or bed, lounging around while the tiny is lying on their big pal’s tummy. The tiny found this terrifying at first but has come to really enjoy it, thinking the soft, warm surface is like a massive hug.

Out of nowhere, the giant’s tummy rumbles, reverberating through the tiny with a loud groan. In a panic, the tiny scrambles backwards, frantically abandoning ship.

The giant feels the movement and shoots upward, finding their tiny’s slipped off of their torso and fallen to their side, cowering at the sound. They can’t help but chuckle at the sight.

“Aww,” a coo slips out from them as they laugh. “I didn’t scare you, did I?”

Like a rodent, the tiny scampers along the wall, silently running underneath tables and countertops to avoid detection. There’s no time to gain awareness of their surroundings, not in such an active living space. It was their mistake to sneak in and scope out this space at this hour, since any normal human would be awake in broad daylight like this.

Not like they had much choice. The tiny winces at the crash of a branch slamming against a nearby window. Some of the worst wind they’ve ever experienced, its consequences sending shockwaves through the empty room.

Well, empty for now. Subconsciously, the tiny’s breath hitches at the all-too-familiar tremors of footsteps approaching the room they’re in. Figures. At least they’re already hidden. One less thing to worry about.

Hinges squeak ever so slightly as the giant of the hour walks into the room, clicking the door closed behind them. They have a smaller stride. Short… by giant standards. The sudden sound of flowing water alerts the tiny to the presence of a sink in this room.

Unsatisfied with their current placement, the tiny takes advantage of the present sound and slowly and silently shuffles sideways, plastering themselves against the wall as they move away from the door and toward the sink, hidden well beneath a table occupying the space next to it.

The water stops, and the massive feet in front of the tiny step back away from the sink as the giant indulges in a drink. Chills are sent up the tiny’s spine before they can even process what happens next.

“I don’t want to tell you what to do,” the giant speaks, seemingly to no one.

“And it doesn’t bother me that you’re here,” they continue. Oh no.

“But I’d be remiss if I didn’t at least warn you.”

The giant walks slightly to the side, the tiny tracking their every movement. They stop once their feet are positioned in front of the tiny’s hiding spot. “I know my housemates well. And I know tinies well. You would regret running into one of them.”

The color drains from the tiny’s face as the larger-than-life being bends down, making effortless eye contact with the now horrified intruder. “And you aren’t as great at hiding as you think you are.”

The giant sets down their water cup on its side, allowing the last bit of water to slide down toward the lip of the barrel-sized container. “Drink up,” they tell the tiny. “What you do after that is up to you.” The titan stands up once again, exiting the room and closing the door behind them as they had when they walked in.

cw: implied death, soft fatal unwilling v/re (indirectly depicted)

One breath in, one breath out. Weak in the knees, Adelaide pushes the wooden door forward.

“Her Majesty advised for me to come see you,” the young slayer murmurs.

Sigmund looks up from his desk, his deep black eyes meeting her hazel ones. “Did she? What ails you?”

Adelaide slowly walks into the room, sitting on the soft ottoman in the middle. It’s not her first time here, and it won’t be her last. “I have been dancing around the truth with you. With everyone.”

The shaman cocks an eyebrow, turning around and carrying his candle over to sit across from her. “Go on, then.”

Adelaide freezes. She’s been preparing for this conversation for weeks, but once the time finally comes to speak, her throat is hitched and her mind is cloudy. One breath in, one breath out. “It’s about the giant.”

Beads of sweat begin to form on the slayer’s forehead, which she quickly pats down with the back of her hand. Must she be so nervous? She has to pull herself together. “I am unsure of the proper manner to report this, but… it has not been slain. The kingdom is still in danger.”

Sigmund’s eyes widen. “Adelaide…” he trails off.

“Shaman, you simply do not understand,” she replies. “The beast alone was not enough to frighten me. There’s more to the story.”

One breath in, one breath out. She begins to elaborate.

When I had walked into the giant’s place of residence, it was sleeping. The monster’s immense body seemed to never end, sprawled across a proportionately large set of furniture. Its hand hung off the side, fingertips nearly touching the floor. The length of the hand was nearly twice that of my entire body, and I am one of the taller warriors.

Though I had prepared for fending off a waking giant, I would be foolish in not taking advantage of its sleeping state. Precariously, I scaled the immense furniture, finding myself even with the monster’s stomach, which groaned and heaved as though it had just eaten. Just when I was to run toward its neck to make the fatal blow, a sound stopped me.

Screaming. Soft, muffled screaming.

My heart sank as it dawned on me where the sound originated. Eyes widening, I began trembling as I leaned toward the monster’s stomach. The screaming grew louder… I could almost make out the pleas. Goose pimples pricked up across my limbs as my blood turned to ice. Humans. Like me.

Slowly, my sword went back into its sheath. The giant’s stomach was barely exposed, its top shifting up in sleep. Soft as a feather, I placed my bare hands against the soft flesh of the monstrous torso, lightly pressing my ear up to it to try and hear better.

Two hands immediately pressed up against mine from the other side as a bloodcurdling scream rang through the giant’s stomach.

I yelped in response, jumping backwards as my hands clasped over my mouth. Just then, I felt the entire world move around me. Fear and regret exploded inside me, drowning my stomach as it dropped to the floor.

It was awake.

I didn’t even begin to process the situation as I frantically clambered down the furniture the same way I ascended, leaving behind my rope. Leaving behind all those people.

I sprinted out the cracked entrance I came through, ignoring the booming footsteps, the floor shaking beneath me, and the hackneyed “Fee, fi, fo, fum.” I had never even made a scrape. I had chickened out.

Adelaide looks down, tearing up. “The screams have permeated my dreams. I am unable to go a day, an hour, even a minute without hearing them. I can still feel the digesting human’s hands grasping mine through the beast’s stomach.”

Sigmund blinks. “Adelaide, please look at me.”

She doesn’t. “I am aware my own cowardice has costed the safety of the kingdom, and the lives of the innocent. I cannot apologize enough.”

“Adelaide, please.”

The slayer slowly looks up, eyes puffy. “I’m sorry.”

“Young warrior,” he replies. “I understand the fear. You already know I find you to be one of the bravest warriors this kingdom has ever seen.”

“So brave of me to flee at the first sight of danger…” Adelaide stammers. “There’s… there’s blood on my hands, shaman.”

“Not the way I see it.”

She doesn’t reply.

The shaman continues. “You are the head of the fleet for a reason, Adelaide. Your consistent loyalty and bravery have gone without question for as long as you’ve been with us. Do you know why you stopped to listen to those people instead of slaying the giant?”

“I was distracted. I prioritized incorrectly.”

“Nay,” he cuts in. “You had done it out of empathy. Had you not been thrown off, would you have ever gone in for the fatal blow?”

The slayer pauses. “I suppose I’ll never know.”

Sigmund narrows his eyes. “You’re discrediting yourself, young warrior.”

“My actions have discredited me more than my words ever will,” she retorts.

He pauses, scratching his chin before letting out a soft chuckle. “So, this is the mindset you choose to hold.”

Adelaide doesn’t reply.

“The way I see it,” he continues. “You have two options.” The shaman rises, picking up his candle. “You can either let the cries of the people guide you to their justice…”

He blows out the candle, shrouding the small shack with darkness “Or you can let them go to waste.”

The slayer’s breathing deepens.

“At any rate…” the candle softly clinks against the table as Sigmund sets it down. “You will be plagued by them until you choose the next step. And either way, there is still a maneater out there plotting its next meal.”

Adelaide pauses, pondering over the darkness. At once, she stands, bustling toward the door.

“What are you doing?” Sigmund asks.

Light floods back into the room as the door is pushed open, illuminating Adelaide from behind. One breath in, one breath out. “I’m getting my sword. Thank you, shaman.”

“You want to hurt me… don’t you?”

As soon as the words leave my mouth, the silence becomes deafening. It clings to the entire atmosphere, thick enough to choke on.

“When I try to leave,” I add on, hoping to break the silence.

Their eyes remain unwavering, with only a slow blink in response. As if taking in the question before answering.

“No,” they finally reply, unnervingly soft. “I don’t.”

I wait for them to continue, but they don’t. The silence fills the room again, basking in all its maddening glory.

Silence is a clawed creature, digging its talons into my skin and trying to rip into my insides. The beast in front of me loves it- all the more time for them to think. All the more time for me to panic. I can’t take the quiet anymore.

“You always act like it! You’re capable of it!” I snap. “I can feel it in your eyes, I can hear it in your tone! What’s stopping you?”

The creature stays in place, barely furrowing their brows as an indication of offense.

“What good would that do? You don’t think I wouldn’t have done it already if i intended to?”

I blink, perplexed. Did they willingly give me information? Or is this another power play? I can never tell. My eyes narrow as I let the silence hang. A test. Would a lack of reply serve up more information?

It seems not, as the giant takes in the quiet again. They huff slightly, as if frustrated. Maybe they know my tactic. They often do.

“Hurting you is no show of power,” they speak again. “I wouldn’t be strong to even kill something as small as you. If I wanted to exert power, I’d do it over the powerful. Not the powerless.”

I’d be insulted by the comment, but I’m left more confused than anything. Did staying quiet work?

“Why are you telling me this?” The question escapes before I can fully process it.

“Because,” the giant sighs. “I know it’s not going to change anything. You don’t believe anything I say.”

I break eye contact, trying to process everything. Do I believe anything they say? I second guess all of it, but not knowing when they’re telling the truth can’t be equated to knowing they aren’t.

“I believe you sometimes,” I finally speak up. I could elaborate more, but I’ve already said too much.

“What do you mean?” They ask, unsatisfied with the comment. Always aware.

I look them up and down. Calm composure, almost a bored expression. Tired as always. Too aware. “You know what I mean.”

last

first

Rico’s back to work soon enough. Though he’d been dreading it before, he feels much better about having something to take his mind off things now.

As he gets home one night, he tosses his keys on the coffee table and flops down onto the living room couch. A sigh escapes him, as usual after a workday.

Rolling onto his side, he looks at the legs of his coffee table. As if expecting something to walk out from behind one of them.

Nothing does, as he expects. A relief, if anything. Maybe wrapped in a thin layer of disappointment, but he’s not sure what he’d do if another tiny person came into his life.

He’d probably help them from the start this time around. At least, his mind would scream at him to. It wouldn’t be nearly as fun, but maybe it’s not about him.

Rico looks away from the floor eventually. Nothing’s going to pop out for him. He hoists himself up, stalking over to the kitchen. He hasn’t eaten all day.

Opening the refrigerator, lots of miscellaneous ingredients scatter the shelves, but not much to gather into a meal. He’ll work with what he has tonight, and go shopping tomorrow, he decides.

After another rough night without much sleep, Rico wakes earlier than usual. Might as well get shopping out of the way, he figures.

Partway through his trip, he stops at a shelf and looks around, but pauses. An all-too-familiar feeling creeps up on him.

Someone’s looking at him.

Quickly, his eyes whip to the right. No one. To the left. Also no one.

But he notes a quick flash of blonde hair at the end of the aisle. Every muscle in his body begs him to go after the person, but he refrains. It wouldn’t do anyone any good to give chase to them. Besides, he was probably overthinking it. It couldn’t have been her.

Rico makes sure to watch his step once he gets home as he walks around the house to put various groceries away.

next

last

first

-

After some deep searching, Margot is returned to her family. The conversation her brother has with Rico as she’s held within her captor’s hands is all gibberish to her, nonsense words flowing into one ear and out the other. All she can focus on is how she’ll soon be out of his grip for the last time. Home at last.

She deeply wishes she had the energy to pay attention and soak in his words, see where he’s lying. But she’s just too drained. Besides, she clearly can’t figure out when he’s lying anyway. She supposes she’s made it this far by giving him a second chance, but it shouldn’t have taken two chances. None of these revelations are new to her, though. Maybe she processed it too quickly. Maybe she never processed it at all.

She’s handed off to her brother, Dimitri, and the door closes. Margot is thoroughly exhausted, but remains alert. New hands. Familiar, yet entirely novel. She can’t be too trustworthy, as much as she’d be quick to trust Dimitri.

“My god,” he sighs once the door closes. “You’re alive. What happened to you?”

She looks up and meets his eyes, deeply comforting, yet just as terrifying. He’s usually so relaxed, seeing anxiety in his eyes strikes something in her. Her throat catches, unable to answer. She looks down again, eyes tracing the ridges of his hand.

“Let’s set you down somewhere,” Dimitri responds to the silence, setting her on a nearby table and squatting, backing up as to not flood her view. A nice gesture. One she doesn’t know how to take. “Were you okay with that guy? Was he telling the truth?”

Fatigue washes over her again at the thought of Rico. She didn’t pay attention. “Wh… what did he say?” she asks quietly, barely audible.

His gaze breaks further. “Oh, my god… you need rest. I’ll ask questions later. Let’s get you to bed for now. We can discuss once you’re in better shape.”

He softly scoops her up and carries her to her bedroom. It’s all the same, though much larger now. She’s set lightly on the mattress, a familiar feeling. Physically colder. Unoccupied. But warmer in every other way.

“I’ll check back in soon but let you rest up. Let’s talk about this more when Dad gets home.”

As soon as the door closes, she’s asleep.

Dimitri comes back in what feels like seconds later, lightly knocking on the door and waking up Margot. “Hey,” his voice floats through the room as her eyes open. “Feeling any better? You’ve been asleep all day. We want to make sure you’re fed.”

She looks up at her alarm clock on the nightstand. It’s almost 9:00 PM. She’s been asleep about ten hours. But she still feels her eyes drooping. Barely a wink of sleep for her.

With a yawn, she looks at Dimitri. “I guess,” she lands on an answer, not sure if he can hear her properly.

He takes her to the living room. A hundred questions are thrown to her- about her disappearance, her size, the guy who brought her back.

She doesn’t have a clear answer for most of them. Margot sits on the coffee table quietly after the brigade of interrogation, looking off into space.

“Well,” her dad caps off the session. “At least you’re back home, even if it’s in this state. It might not even last forever. Let’s just be thankful that young man was kind enough to bring you back as soon as he found you.”

Her eyes snap open wide, immediately looking to her father. Without skipping a beat, she bursts into tears.

By the end of the night, she’s asleep in bed again with therapy appointments lined up. Not that they’d matter. She can’t explain her height. She can’t explain her situation. If she talks about Rico one more time, she might pass out.

By the end of the week, she begins getting taller. She doesn’t have an explanation. No one really does. She gets a new phone too. There’s no telling where her old one went, but lost texts and pictures aren’t Margot’s biggest concern.

By the end of the month, she’s back to her normal size. If only she could go back to her normal mind.

Her therapist suggested a higher water intake. She’ll think clearer if she does, she’s told. A small suggestion in the grand scheme of things, but one she couldn’t help but laugh at. She’s been told that one before.

As she fills a glass of ice water, she looks over to the vegetables on her counter for a cucumber to cut into it. Hm, she notes. They ran out.

She’ll head to the store later to get some, she decides, rising the glass to her face and taking in the water. Once she lowers the glass, she pours a bit into her hand, letting it swirl around her palm. She holds her hand upside down over the sink, watching the small pool splash onto the bottom.