#eventually will incorporate other Jack Tales into the adventures of Giant Dad and Reluctant Tiny Son

[radioactivepeasant]

Fic Prompts: Folklore Friday

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Jack woke to someone’s thunderous sneeze. He was somewhat surprised that he’d fallen asleep at all, considering the predicament he’d found himself in. Having failed to steal back the magic harp -- which he was now very certain was a person and not an object, which made his original goal a little different -- he’d been caught by the giants and popped into a doll’s house the size of a city townhouse. The furniture had all clearly been made by a giant’s hand, and wasn’t actually as soft or high-quality as the furnishings a real townhouse would have held. But the sturdy wooden bedframe and feather bolster still felt like unimaginable luxury for young Jack, who had become accustomed to sleeping in hay lofts and on hard stone.

The room was darker now than it had been when the giant called Thunderboots had brought him there. Jack found that he could no longer accurately guess what time of day it was. It was similar to when he’d first snuck into the castle. He’d gotten lost in the larder for a full day and hadn’t known whether it was day or night for a long time.

“You know we’ll have to let him leave, Tom.”

Jack sat up when he heard the giant woman’s voice. He slipped out of the doll bed and crept to the little window in the front. There wasn’t any glass, but the shutters could open and close. Through the little gap he’d left open (after determining that there was no way to safely climb down from that window) he could just see the two giants on the far side of the room. The man was holding some kind of lamp in one hand, and the woman looked like she was holding pillows. Jack ducked under the windowsill as they got closer to the bedside table holding the dollhouse.

Peony laid the pillows down on the floor around the bedside table. Their unexpected “guest” was so awfully small, she’d realized, that if he tried to leave the dollhouse and fell off the table, he could hurt himself very badly. Better to have some kind of safety measures in place, just in case.

“But Peony,” Tom argued softly, crouching over her with the lamp, “We don’t even know where he comes from! I’ve been in the Underground-Lands once or twice, sure. I’ve seen a handful of tiny people in tiny towns there before, but never more than a hundred at a guess. We haven’t got a guarantee that he came from them! And anyway, how could someone as tiny as our wee cheesethief have gotten here from the Underground-Lands?!”

“It does make you wonder if there are any of them living up here,” Peony reluctantly acknowledged. “I don’t think I like the idea of a civilization of miniature humans living secretly in my house. Privacy aside, we could be putting them in mortal peril every day without knowing it!”

“If they are living in the castle,” Tom mused, “It’s probably Marmalade that makes up the worst of the danger.”

Peony set the last pillow in place and stood up, brushing off her skirt. “Marmalade is a little overzealous when it comes to pest control,” she admitted.

“Marmalade is a demon-cat,” Tom grumbled under his breath, “And she hates me.”

This was more or less true. Tom certainly hadn’t meant to step on Marmalade’s tail the night she’d decided to weave around his ankles after the lamp had been snuffed out. And he’d felt terrible about it. But Marmalade was the sort of cat who held grudges, and ever after she had made it abundantly plain that Tom was not forgiven.

Peony looked at the dollhouse for a moment, worrying at her lip with her teeth. “Tom,” she said slowly, “Do you remember what the boy said when we found him in the cheese? He said something about stealing back the harp. Where exactly did you get that pretty little harp, dear?”

Thunderboots thought hard about this. “Y’know, I can’t quite recall?” he admitted, “It was somewhere Underground, at least. I think there was a little structure, and there it was on the tiniest little balcony. Right about to fall off and break, Peony, can you imagine? I was so surprised that it played loud enough for me to hear that I just picked it up.”

“Oh Tom,” Peony sighed, “We’ve talked about this! Just because that’s how you got the goose doesn’t mean everything golden and magical is free for the taking!”

Thunderboots had the grace to look embarrassed, and flushed red to the tip of his nose. “Ah, you’re right, you’re right. Sorry, love. Old habits and all that. D’you suppose if I found out where the harp came from, we’d find wherever this little “Jack” comes from?”

Peony suspected that this might be the case. However, like her husband, she also suspected that their young intruder might not have anyone to go home to. “At the very least, you ought to give back what you pinched, darling.”

She made for the door. “Come on then, best not wake him up.”

Tom cast a knowing eye on the dollhouse and chuckled. “No, best not.” And when Jack peeped out the shutters again, the giant winked at him.

Tom had been a youngster once, full of the dickens and off on Quests that probably inconvenienced a great many innocent bystanders. He knew it was more than likely that the boy was awake, maybe even eavesdropping on them. Ah well, he wouldn’t tattle.

Jack sat in the darkness after they’d left, pondering what he’d heard. They sounded as though they wanted to let him go -- with the harp, no less! But at the same time, Jack wasn’t so sure that two giants knowing where the humans lived was such a good idea. What if they told their friends? What if other giants came down to gawk at them and destroy things with their great big feet? Surely they weren’t all as apparently goodnatured as these two.

At the very least, Jack decided that he needed to get some answers from the harp-girl. Did the giants know she was alive? Had the prince known? Jack wondered if she really was a harp that was alive, or if she was a girl enchanted to look like a harp. Neither one sounded like much fun to him.

When he was sure that the giants had gone, Jack pushed the shutters open all the way and peered down below. The pillows were thick, and would break his fall nicely. The chief difficulty would lay in finding the storeroom again when he didn’t even know where this chamber was in relation to it. Jack imagined himself wandering the castle, lost until he starved to death or met some equally unpleasant end, then shook himself. It was no use wondering about maybes. He just had to do it.

One leg at a time, the boy swung out of the window and, scrunching his eyes shut and bracing himself, let himself fall. He bounced several times before rolling off a pillow and onto the floor. So far, so good. Sticking to the edges of the room, so as to go for cover if need be, Jack made his way to the door. The faint light on the other side was blocked suddenly as something moved in front of it. Jack froze when he heard soft breathing, and smelled some kind of animal.

On the other side of the door, out in the antechamber, Marmalade the cat smelled something unusual in her domain, and growled.