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callboxkat · 3 years

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Those Long, Lonely Nights (part 4/6)

Author’s note: This is a retelling of the story These Deep Dark Woods, but from Roman’s perspective. I recommend reading that story first, but this can also stand alone.

Summary: Roman, a knight, insists on accompanying his best friend Logan, a potion maker, when he decides to head into the notoriously dangerous woods bordering their home to find some rare herbs and minerals for his apothecary. They find much more than they bargained for when they encounter Remus, a bloodthirsty giant. Logince. Angst with a happy ending.

Fic Warnings: food mention, blood, injuries, death mention, killing mention, gun mention, mild body horror (it’s Remus), disturbing imagery (it’s Remus), character death, temporary/believed character death, kidnapping, guilt, attempted self sacrifice, talk of giants, vampires and other monsters. Very unsympathetic villain Remus.

Word Count: 3910

Part 1 : Part 5

Writing Masterpost!

...

“Come out, come out wherever you are,” the giant called in a sing-song voice. “I know you’re theeerrrre, little bugs!”

Roman and Logan were pressed against an outcropping of rock, panting, trying to be as quiet as they could while they caught their breath. Logan, in his darker attire, was peeking through the small gap between the cliff and some undergrowth, towards where the monster was. Roman watched as he shuddered. He went to put a hand on Logan’s shoulder, as if to comfort him, then thought better of it, and took it away.

The giant was well and truly angry now. It was clear that he had been toying with them before—despite having very, very nearly killed Logan once already—and he had at least then wanted them to last a while, while he had his fun. But that was before. Now, he was still definitely trying to have some sick, twisted version of fun, but he did not plan to keep either of them alive for long.

Remus had a club with him now. An enormous weapon that someone of his size should not have reasonably been able to wield—even standing at four times the height of a normal man, with hands large enough to wrap around entire human limbs and with shoulders the width of a decent-sized supply cart, the pink and black boulder wrapped over and over again to that thick, gnarled log serving as a handle was enormous. Had the giant had human proportions, he shouldn’t have been able to lift it, let alone swing it like a bat.

One good hit, and they were both done for.

The giant was getting closer. Logan silently tugged at Roman’s sleeve, and the pair snuck further away as quickly as they dared, doing their best to stay silent. Roman’s ears were still ringing a little, so he could only hope his training was paying off, and that he was being quiet enough. Logan didn’t say anything, but watching how he listed heavily to one side as they went, Roman didn’t really trust him to be a good judge either.

They pressed themselves against the next outcrop. Old Haven was sometimes called Stony Cliffs in older manuscripts, and it was easy to see why—the forests here were filled with these outcroppings, especially to the south and west. They were useful both for Logan’s work, seeking (relatively) easily accessed minerals for his apothecary, and, it seemed, for hiding from homicidal giants.

Roman’s head was spinning, but he was much more worried about Logan. They’d tied a makeshift bandage around his head wound, although the bleeding had mostly stopped, but he was not in good shape. It was still shocking to Roman that he had survived this long at all. Thinking back, it seemed almost impossible. Perhaps he had gotten lucky, being bundled into the giant’s bag after Roman, that his head had been pressed into Roman’s side. Tied up and probably concussed as he was, Roman had been in no shape at the time to try to stop the bleeding, even if he had known that Logan wasn’t already dead at the time. That small, random chance might have been what kept Logan alive.

Roman decided that he really did not want to think about that, actually.

But he could not stop thinking about how pale Logan looked, nor the way he seemed to be just barely keeping himself from collapsing.

The giant was getting closer.

“Come on,” Roman reluctantly whispered, hating that he couldn’t give Logan more time to actually rest. They had to keep moving. He listened for a moment just to be sure he knew where the giant was—although Remus’s movements were hardly subtle—and began to creep out in the opposite direction, pausing to be sure Logan followed.

The dull thuds and crashing of Remus’s movements paused. Roman and Logan both froze.

“Come on, don’t be that way,” the giant called, his voice echoing through the trees. “Where are you trying to run off to?” He cackled, and Roman heard a rustle, the whoosh of air, and a few loud cracks, like Remus had gestured around the dark forest with his club and broken several branches in the process. “Don’t you know what could happen? You could fall and break your legs! You’ll be completely helpless! And then you’d get eaten by birds! Ooh, do you think they’d peck out your eyes first? Or would you get to watch the whole thing?”

Roman and Logan waited, terrified, until it was safe to move again.

Boom!

The sound echoed through the forest. A tree only a dozen yards away fell to the ground. A single bird let out an alarm call as it finally realized that this was the last place it wanted to be, and fled.

“At least we know where he is,” Logan whispered.

That was true. Remus did not seem to be prioritizing stealth in the slightest. Probably, this was because he was certain that Roman and Logan wouldn’t escape either way, but it was reassuring all the same. Roman would take what he could get.

They made it to the next outcrop of rock. At the base of it, in the mud, was the unmistakable impression of an enormous footprint. It couldn’t have been very old. Roman thought he could see more of them, deeper in the trees, visible even in the dimness. Probably, the giant had come this way not long before he’d captured Roman and Logan.

How long had the giant been watching them? Waiting for them to let their guard down, so he could strike?

Roman thought of how he’d slowly grown bored, pacing the perimeter of their camp, and eventually gone to simply sit sleepily on a boulder. Stupid.

They should have turned back when they had the chance. They never should have gone so deep into the woods at all. They could have been home right now, eating peach tarts by the fire in Roman’s cozy cabin, ostensibly because it was closer to the South Tower and thus less of a trek for Logan that night, but really just to spend time together, listening to the lively music drifting from the pub down the street.

It was too late, now, though. Now, Roman could only hope that he could get them both out alive.

…

As they stumbled as fast as they could through the trees, breathing harshly, hardly caring if they were even going in the right direction, the sky gradually began to lighten. The dawn made it easier to see where they were going, so they were able to move just a little faster, but it also made it all the more obvious just how far they had to go. And the giant was not a welcome sight in the light of day.

“FEE, FIE, FOE, FUM!” the giant called, slamming his feet down on the ground with each step, hard enough to make the ground shudder. “Come on out and let’s have some fun!”

The words, delivered with such a promise of violence, sent a fresh curl of fear into Roman’s chest. It seemed even when he thought he couldn’t be more afraid, he was wrong.

Logan’s hand tightened around Roman, gripping his coat, an effort to keep them from getting separated. Roman was glad for the proof that Logan was there with him. He was afraid to keep looking over his shoulder. Partly because he needed to see where he was going, and partly because he was afraid of knowing just how close Remus might be.

Occasionally, the giant would pause in his pursuit, and just listen. Roman knew that the giant was tracking them, or attempting to do so; he knew that they should be trying harder to be quiet. He also knew that they had no time to slow down. He wasn’t sure either of them was in good enough shape any more to do anything to muffle their footsteps, if they tried.

“Come on, come on,” Roman panted, looking around in desperation as they continued on. Not a moment later, the knight’s foot caught on something, and he and Logan were both sent sprawling.

Roman hit the ground hard, landing on uneven ground strewn with stones and tree roots. His head spun, and a long second passed before the world began to settle around him. He lifted up a hand and touched a newly sore spot on his head, practically on top of where Remus had already flicked him.

He heard a shout in the distance.

Logan was leaning over him, one hand reached out, gasping. “Let’s go,” he said.

Roman blinked, watching the way Logan’s hair drifted slightly in the faint breeze. Now that the sun was coming up and he could see better, Logan’s hair looked kind of amusing. Half of it was sticking up in all directions, while the other half was pasted to his skull. Why would he wear it like that?

And then, suddenly, Roman remembered exactly where he was, and exactly what he was looking at. He shook his head, clearing some of the fuzziness. “Yeah—yeah, let’s go.” He reached up and took Logan’s hand. Logan did his best to haul Roman back to his feet.

A sharp pain told him that something was very, very wrong with his ankle.

No time to worry about that.

They continued onwards on clumsy, exhausted, painful limbs, desperately trying to reach safety. Roman thought he could just barely make out the flags at the top of the South Tower’s turrets. Maybe even part of the castle. He hoped it wasn’t his imagination. Logan seemed to think that was also the correct direction, although it was possible that he was just following Roman, trusting the knight to know the way.

No—Roman had to believe that they were going the right way. They couldn’t turn around if they wanted to. If he let doubt in, he would not make it. Logan wouldn’t make it.

Roman chanced a look back at his friend, who still had one hand fastened on Roman’s formerly snow white jacket like a lifeline, and was alarmed to see blood soaking through the makeshift bandage, dripping down his face and leaving a trail of ruby droplets in their wake. They stumbled to a brief halt. At the alarm on Roman’s face, Logan himself seemed to notice the reopened injury, and he stowed his dagger before reaching up to press the palm of his now free hand to the wound. They took off again, with no time to stop. Remus was still crashing through the woods behind them, all too close, and all too happy to keep up the chase.

They just had to break the tree line. They just had to get close enough to the wall for help to arrive. They only had to make it that far. The knights, with their numbers and weapons, would make quick work of the giant. Roman and Logan just had to get to them. The knights would help, would bring them home.

Roman sent up a silent prayer to the gods. Please, help us.

As the sun rose higher and the sky lightened further, Roman grew surer and surer that he really was seeing signs of Old Haven. The trees were thinning—it was imperceptible, at first, but compared to how densely packed they had been nearer the giant’s lair, the difference was clear. Yet their pace was slowing. They simply couldn’t keep running. Roman wasn’t sure that their pace could even be called a run, at this point.

Logan’s grip on Roman’s jacket slipped, sending a jolt of alarm through the knight. It tightened again, briefly, but moments later, he felt as the apothecarist stumbled, and fell to the ground.

“Logan!” Roman gasped, turning around.

Logan looked horrible. Pale and flushed through the blood and dirt and ash on his swollen face, his eyes unfocused and only half open.

Roman pulled him up, put an arm around him, and they continued on as best they could, adrenaline numbing their pain. Their speed was hardly faster than a walking pace, but Roman simply could not go any faster. Logan seemed to be growing rapidly weaker, now leaning heavily on the knight.

Please, Logan, just hold on a little longer.

They were so close. So close. They only needed to—

SNAP!

The sound of hysterical laughter came from off to their left, and the giant materialized. “There you are! Oh, there you are! My new friends!”

Roman took a step back, stumbling on his injured ankle as he pulled Logan with him.

The giant had not escaped Logan’s brilliant distraction unscathed. A patch of hair had burned away on his scalp, he was streaked with ash, and his clothes were a charred mess. He smelled even worse than before. Yet, he smiled when he saw them, his lips cracking apart into a soot-stained grin. “I missed you,” the giant whined. “But… I’m afraid I have to kill you now.” He raised his club up over his head. “Don’t worry! It’ll be exciting! It’ll be so fun; you’ll be like meat pancakes!”

Roman’s adrenaline spiked as the giant brought down the club. Square over where Logan stood.

Roman yanked the apothecarist back, screaming as the effort set his ribs and ankle on fire, flinging them both away from the club.

He wasn’t quite fast enough.

There was a sickening crack, and then Logan was letting out a cry of pure agony, tears of pain in his eyes as he clutched at his leg.

Oh, gods. His leg.

But the giant wasn’t finished yet. He was cackling, getting ready to raise the club for the finishing blow.

Only for the tree trunk of the handle to come away in splinters, and for the boulder to roll several feet away.

Finally. Finally, some luck. Roman sent up a hasty thank you and quickly knelt by Logan, patting his coat in a fervor until he found what he was looking for—Logan’s dagger.

He spun around and brandished the weapon towards the giant, steeling himself. “Get back!” he shouted with all the strength he could muster.

Remus, meanwhile, seemed confused by the state of his club. Apparently, he had not expected it to break. He was trying to nudge the pieces together as Roman spun around. At the knight’s commanding voice, though, the giant looked up. He dropped the broken log. And he laughed.

He reached towards them, and Roman slashed the dagger across the giant’s palm. It was little more effective than a deep papercut, but the giant yelped and backed up, rubbing at his hand with a wounded look.

“That’s not very nice,” he said. “I was just trying to crush you!”

Logan was moaning in agony. Roman chanced a glance back. Logan still clutched at his leg, his face pale and slightly green. No way was he walking out of here on his own.

“Oh, you’re alive!” the giant cried, seeming to notice, for the first time, that it was Logan who lay on the ground at Roman’s side. Perhaps he had thought a third human had come to Roman’s aid—it was unlikely, of course, for more humans to be out that far, but even less so for one to come back from the dead. “I get to kill you twice! That never happens!”

Roman remembered the sound of Logan’s head cracking against a metal chain. The way his body had gone instantly, utterly limp. Those horrible, horrible hours when he had thought Logan was gone.

Roman’s hand tightened into a fist. “And it won’t!” Roman he declared. He didn’t know how, but he would stop Remus. He would fight off the giant, alone, barefoot, his body bruised and exhausted, because he had no other choice.

There was a shuffling from behind Roman, another moan of pain. Roman blinked away tears at the sound. He stayed put, the dagger brandished before him, the dull bronze blade all that held back the monster.

“Hey, Re—Remus?” came a weak, slurred voice.

Roman actually flinched, he was so surprised. What was Logan doing?

“I have something… to show you. You’ll… you’ll like it,” Logan continued, his voice wobbling with pain. “It’s… nasty, and gross. Just like you.”

Far from being insulted by the man’s words, the giant appeared intrigued. His rancid green eyes narrowed suspiciously, but still, he crouched down. He let out a heavy breath, and so close, the smell of decay was overwhelming.

It took everything Roman had not to attempt to gouge at the giant’s face while he had the chance. He hoped Logan knew what he was doing. Half dead or not, Logan was still the smartest guy he knew.

Remus leaned forward even more, so his face was less than a foot from Logan. “Show me,” he crooned.

“Of course.” Logan sounded far calmer than Roman felt. Logan’s arm came up from behind his back, holding… a small bag of powder. Which he hurled straight into the giant’s face. The bag exploded, sending out a cloud of white dust.

Remus howled, clawing at his eyes, rearing back and all but uprooting a nearby evergreen in his haste. He tripped and fell to the earth, screeching as he tried to get the dust out of his eyes.

Roman shoved the dagger in his coat pocket and dashed to Logan’s side, hauling him to his feet by the underarms, being as mindful of Logan’s leg as he could in what little time Logan had bought them.

“No,” Logan moaned, hitting out weakly at Roman. “No—put me down, put me down!”

“It’s me!” Roman said, holding Logan’s arms away from his face. “It’s me, Specs, it’s me!”

“Leave me here—go!”

It dawned on Roman. Logan expected him, wanted him to leave him behind. That was not happening. Even if both of them died because of it. Didn’t Logan know that Roman would never—absolutely never—do something like that? Hadn’t they known each other long enough for that to become obvious? Roman knew that Logan didn’t know how he felt, but he had to know how important he was to him. Didn’t he know that?

Logan kept fighting as Roman dragged them away from the giant, trying to get Roman to drop him. Logan’s leg was completely useless, and Roman bore nearly all of Logan’s weight.

“I can’t even walk,” Logan cried.

“But I can!” Roman growled. “I can walk for both of us! Dammit, Logan, I am not leaving you here to die! I—I need you! I can’t do this without you!”

Logan’s protests paused at that. Roman hauled them both onward, putting all of his focus in making it to that tree line. Finally, Logan seemed to accept that he was coming along whether he wanted to or not, and rather than trying to stop Roman or simply be dragged along, he started trying to help them move along. He couldn’t do much other than hold on to Roman and try to hop along on his one usable leg, but he was trying.

They could do this. They had to do this.

All too soon, Roman heard the sounds of the giant beginning to follow after them once more. He must have cleared his eyes enough to see, or perhaps he was simply following the sound of them crashing through the undergrowth. It didn’t matter—the result was the same.

To Roman’s immense relief, the trees were definitely thinning now. The giant already knew where they were, so Roman saw no harm in it as he began to shout and scream for help, desperately hoping that the guards on the wall would hear, that they would come to help.

Logan was not doing well. He was getting weaker and weaker, hardly managing to hold on. Roman was all but carrying him. They needed to get the bleeding in his leg stopped, but there was just no time.

“Don’t give up, buddy, come on,” Roman said, between shouts for help. “Come on.”

He could see clear grass up ahead. Just there—through the trees. He could see clean gray stones. He could see the sky. Roman cried out for help again, then turned to Logan as they scrambled over loose stones and broken branches. The jagged edge of one of the stones cut deep into Roman’s foot. He paid it no mind.

“There it is!” Roman said to Logan, desperately trying to keep him awake. “Do you see it? There’s the tree line. We’re almost there, buddy. Just a little further!”

“Almost there, buddy,” Logan echoed blandly. Roman could hardly understand him anymore.

Remus was still yelling behind them, bounding through the trees, getting closer and closer. He threw a boulder, and it crashed to the ground just beside the pair. The ground shook, leaves and pine needles raining down from nearby trees. Roman nearly fell, and Logan lurched forward heavily. The potion maker’s eyes briefly rolled up into his head, before the lids fluttered, and he seemed to come back, just a little.

Roman regained his footing and dragged them on. They were so close. “HELP US!” he screamed, shouting so loud it felt like his vocal cords would tear from the strain. “HELP US, PLEASE, WE’RE HERE! THERE’S A GIANT! PLEASE, WE’RE HERE!”

Mercifully, mercifully, he was heard. For the first time, Roman heard other human voices. He heard horses whinnying. He could hear the grinding of gears and the screech of metal as one of the gates on the wall opened. Shots rang out, and he could hear people shouting orders.

They had made it, Roman dared to think. And then Logan became dead weight in his arms.

“No—no!” Roman cried. Not again, no, please, not again.

Knights were breaking through the trees, some on foot, some on horseback, each armed either with a sword or with a rifle. Many swarmed towards the giant, while others made a beeline for Roman and Logan. Roman kept shouting until he was sure, absolutely sure, that they had seen them, and that help was coming. Please, they had to help them—they had to help Logan.

At the sight of the knights finally arriving, the fatigue and pain all seemed to hit Roman at once. He grew suddenly lightheaded. His stomach flipped, and his vision began to swim. Every second he stayed upright was torture, taking a monumental amount of effort, but he would not drop Logan. He wanted to run to the knights, but it was all he could do to stand there. He stood firm until the knights had reached them. People were talking, shouting, but Roman just stood there, swaying, as they neared. Roman could see medics among the knights. Good. Logan was badly hurt.

Finally, finally, Logan was taken from Roman’s grip. He hardly noticed the arms that came to help support his own weight.

The sound of gunshots and the clang of swords on armored skin filled the air. The giant roared. There was a huge crash, and then… nothing. The gunshots went quiet, and forest was still. There was a howl of victory, echoed by cheers that Roman hardly noticed.

The giant was dead.

“Please be careful,” Roman murmured in the newfound quiet, watching as the medics began to tend to his friend, ignoring the medics and knights who were trying to speak to him. He blinked, long and slow.

Then, he collapsed completely.

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thecozywhaleshark · 5 years

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Giant BTS

A/n: I don’t think I’ll make this into a series like the Pockets, but I couldn’t get the idea out of my head. So, love it or hate it, but here is BTS as big friendly giants of lore ~

Namjoon:

BFG

Keeps to himself half the time

loves interacting with humans but is deathly afraid of squishing them

accidentally knocks over trees or causes avalanches (mini to him, large to mankind)

has built many towers and ramps to make it easier for people to talk to him

nobody is scared of him

kids love him

kids will spend entire summer days with him asking him questions

he sets up obstacle courses for them and is an honored teacher

patron of the arts ~ loves to watch but has learned not to touch

his cave is full of paintings and sculptures he has bought or been gifted from the artists in his country and he’s so proud of them all - will show them off to anyone who visits

Jin:

the wandering giant

doesn’t really have his own country to roam, roams them all

is kinda like a giant bard

travels to every town - tells wonderful stories with theatrics and in song

everyone gets super excited when they hear the Giant Jin is in the area

everyone flocks to the valley he has chosen to stay the night in and listen to his tales, sitting on the rooftops

they all bring him food for payment of his tales

Hobi:

the helpful giant

jolly giant

another giant whom everyone loves

helps farmers in their fields

is always nearby to help villagers build their barns and houses - lifts the heavy beams from above

his laughs shake the ground

so there are many mini earthquakes every day

but the people don’t mind bc hey at least their giant is happy

Yoongi:

sleeps most of the time

in fact, he slept for so long he kinda became a mountain

when he woke up he had to brush trees off him

the humans who lived at the base of his curled up form thought the world was ending

he did his best to calm them down, speaking with the elders

known as the ‘Gentle Giant of Greensvillge’

has knowledge of lots of healing remedies and gladly shares

Taehyung:

likes to sit in the middle of the farm fields where all the villagers send their flocks to eat

will spend all day sitting cross legged in the middle of the sheep naming them and petting each one

very polite

knows when one of the sheep he looks after is missing and the farmers have to tell him if they sold them or killed them

will shed a few tears for Bertha #35 but understand the process of things

the mothers of the village love him

they take turns coming to him in his cave and reading him a bedtime story and making sure he’s all tucked in for the night

Jimin:

the smallest giant

but does his best to protect his people

a jolly giant whom everyone loves and knows

will sit cross-legged on the ground and let the children climb all over him

everyone knows to give him hugs

but don’t get on his bad side unless you want endless mischief to come upon your household

will go “fee fie foe fum” for fun

Jungkook:

the youngest giant in the lands

tries his best but doesn’t really know what he’s doing

often leaves to get advice from Giant Namjoon in tough situations

wants to play with the school kids

really into games - tries to make some that are giant and human inclusive

protective of his area - best at scaring and shooing away invaders

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mythsnfairytales-blog · 6 years

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Once upon a time, there was a boy named Jack. He lived with his mother in a cottage on the outskirts of a kingdom, right between the town and the outlying farmland. The kingdom was going through a period of drought: everyone was starving, and Jack and his mother were no exception. One morning, his mother said to him, “Jack, we are going to starve. You must take the cow into the village and sell her for what you can get. We will live on what she sells for a few weeks and then we will die.”

So Jack took the cow and headed down the path to the village. On his way, he met a hobbling old man who carried a little handkerchief. Inside the handkerchief, the old man said, were four magic beans, and he offered to trade Jack the beans for the cow. Jack saw that this was the most he would get for the dried-up, starving cow and gratefully accepted. When he got home, however, his mother was less than pleased and grabbing his ear with one hand, threw the beans out the window with the other. “How could you!?” she cried. “We were supposed to live for another few weeks, but now you will go to bed with no supper tonight, because we have no food to make a supper with!” And at that, Jack went to his bed, tired out from his walk and his empty stomach.

The next morning when Jack woke up in the early light, he found a great plant had grown up where his mother had thrown the beans. All the way up to the sky it reached, and further even than that. It was taller than the tallest skyscraper in our world.

Well, Jack knew he had not long to live and decided that there is no moment like the present, so he started making his way up the vine. “Maybe I’ve already died,” he thought, “and now I’m climbing up to heaven.”

But eventually he found himself at the top, and the beanstalk supported a great castle – a castle larger than the biggest prison in our world. It was a castle made for giants.

Jack went inside and was in awe of all the magnificent things he saw there: sparkling gold, glistening jewels, gorgeous velvet, and exotic spices. Most of the things were far too large for a normal-sized man like Jack, but some were people-sized, and these he picked up and fingered: some were softly embroidered, others were prickly-plated, and still others glassy smooth. He breathed deeply and there wafted a most heavenly scent upon the air. Jack could have stayed in that castle forever; he was beginning to lose himself in the radiance of it all when he was suddenly startled by something far more beautiful. Through the door at the other end of the room emerged a lovely girl of normal, person-sized height. She was adorned in a dusty apron, carried a dirty broom, and her hair curled around her forehead in sweaty, frazzled wisps. But nothing could dim the vibrant, fresh beauty in her face or the stately way that she held herself erect.

She started when she saw Jack and dropped her broom. “What are you doing here?” she cried in alarm.

“I did not mean to startle you, miss. I found a giant beanstalk and climbed it to find myself in this beautiful place.”

“This place is not beautiful at all,” exclaimed the girl. “I know it glistens and dazzles, but it is all false finery that covers the den of a troll. My master eats any man that he can find, and he will eat you if he smells you here. You must leave immediately.”

As you might have guessed, Jack was instantly head-over-heels in love with this beautiful girl, and because of this, her concern did not fill him with proper caution; instead, since he had a dreamy nature, he was grateful for her concern, and he saw her through stars and galaxies, shining in the glow of the stained-glass window draping its light upon her.

“My name’s Jack.”

“Please, Jack,” she begged, “please leave.”

“If I leave,” he said, “you must come with me for I will not leave you to live with a man-eating troll.”

“I cannot go,” she started to tell him, but then Jack, who really was starving to death, suddenly fainted.

When Jack awoke, he was lying on cold stone beside a ginormous fire with a cold cloth on his forehead. The smell of hot soup wafted to him from a bowl at his side.

“You should really eat,” came the voice of the girl, and he turned to see her standing on top of a giant wooden countertop cutting up vegetables. “You look like you’re starving.”

Jack ate without another word, practically swallowing the entire bowl in one gulp. He was that hungry.

“Thank you.” He started to climb up the leg of the counter-top.

“No!” cried the girl. “I was telling you earlier, I can’t leave but you must!”

“Why can’t you leave?”

“I am the princess of the kingdom below.”

“Princess Miranda?”

“Yes. I was kidnapped three years ago and forced to cook and clean for the giant. I have a spell on me, and if I try to escape, this whole castle will fall down upon the kingdom and kill everyone.” Jack had reached the top of the counter, and she handed him an apple. “Now you must go. It is almost his lunchtime and he will be down shortly. Then he will eat you and I will have to watch.”

Jack’s heart leapt at her concern. “There must be a way to break the spell?” he asked.

“So long as he has his magic items, he will have power over me.”

“What are his magic items?”

The princess pointed to the corner of the kitchen. “His magic golden eggs and magic golden harp give him all his spells.”

Suddenly the entire room shook, and Jack fell against the wooden counter-top. The princess, who was more used to it, just wobbled a bit.

“Quick!” she cried. “We are too late, he is coming! You must hide.”

She slid down the leg of the counter, and he followed her, then she grabbed his hand and raced to a cupboard. Jack was too overcome by her touch to do anything but completely obey her. She pushed him inside, and before he realized what had happened, she had sliced his hand with a knife.

“Ah!” he cried, pulling away.

“No time!” she cried and taking his hand, dripped his blood into a bowl. “Wait until he is eating then leave through that door. Go down your beanstalk and never come back here again.” Then she shut him up into complete darkness except for a small sliver of light between the cracks.

He saw the princess take the blood that she had drawn from his smarting hand and pour it into the giant’s bowl of soup. If he had not been so completely in love, Jack might have shuddered at the fact that he himself had just eaten that soup.

“FEE, FIE, FOE, FUM!”

The room shook and the pottery on the shelves clinked and rattled. “I SMELL THE BLOOD OF AN ENGLISHMAN!” The ground quaked as the largest man you have ever seen rumbled into the room. Jack peered through the sliver of a crack and bounced up and down with each heavy footfall. The giant turned his head so that he could see the hugeness of his face, the wideness of his shoulders, and the fierceness of his eyes. Then he did shudder. No, he quaked; and not from the vibrations of the giant’s steps.

“Do you, sir? That’s just a little something special I put together for you. I managed to bargain it off Mrs. Dungbury of Gigantic St.”

“AH! YOU KNOW WHAT I LIKE!” The giant sat down at the large table and started eating like a mad animal, pouring soup in his mouth before even having time to swallow.

Then Jack took his chance. He leapt out of the cupboard, and the giant was so busy with his soup that he noticed nothing else. The princess watched him anxiously, but Jack did not head straight for the door like she had told him; he jumped up onto the table in the corner, where the golden eggs and harp were laid out in all their glory. The princess in fear shook her head at him, but he ignored her and picked up the eggs one by one (there were three of them, and each was very heavy). Then he reached for the harp, but it was magical, and played music whenever anyone touched her, so now she began to play herself, and at hearing the sound, the dinner table shook as the giant lifted up his mighty head.

“WHY DOES MY BEAUTIFUL HARP PLAY MUSIC?” he asked the princess.

Jack rabbited and raced across the kitchen floor for the door to freedom, but he still clutched the golden eggs to his chest.

“I do believe she just wants to make your dining experience more enjoyable, sir,” said the princess, and sighed with relief when she saw that Jack was safely out of the room.

Jack climbed down the beanstalk as quick as he could. When he got to the bottom, he found his mother waiting for him.

“And where have you been all morning? Do you expect me to starve to death alone?!” She stood before him with arms crossed over her chest in her strictest manner, but he could see how thin her cheeks really were.

“Mother, look!” he cried, holding out the eggs that he had wrapped in his shirt.

“Oh, my!!” she cried out and threw her hands high into the air in astonishment.

They sold the eggs and got enough money from them to live on for the next ten years.

But Jack could not forget the Princess Miranda, so the very next morning, he got up earlier than the sun and started climbing the beanstalk again. As soon as he entered the palace, he headed for the kitchen to find her.

“Princess!” he cried, when he saw the lovely girl at the giant fireplace. She was standing on an iron ladder to reach a huge, boiling stew pot and using a great spoon to stir it. Her face was flushed and her arms straining, but her back was strong and she looked more beautiful than ever.

“Jack!” she yelled at him, “you’ve come back! But why? You must have sold those golden eggs and are no longer starving. You’ll get eaten!”

#fairytale #jack and the bean stalk #story #short story #retold fairytales

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kittyrinn-aiko · 7 years

Text

A look back

A little about Kitzumi first. Kitzumi originated as a kitty girl, the character was to be a typical Manga type character, but I didn't want to use a real name. I started with Kitten Zooming, and melded that to Kit-zum-i, and can be pronounced as Kitsumi to make it the likeness of a Japanese name. For all I know it is a Japanese name, and that was me in a past life. I may never know. As for Kitzumi the character, she's bugging me because she wants a new story. She also wants to be an Alicorn, and I'm like, no you can't be an Alicorn, the Bronies won't like it. Then she gives me her pouty pony face and ask if she can have wings, and I'm like, but I thought you wanted to be a unicorn? She wants to fly – and do magic. Don't we all. How about wings, and a little horn hidden under the mane? We'll see, but if I give you that, I'm not giving you any flight feathers; there'll be no flying till you're older. She says she'll accept it. Now I need a new pony picture.

But enough about that. What I wanted to share was, what is to the best of my knowledge, my Kitzumi's first appearance. The background is the story of 'Jack and the Bean stalk' while the characters would have fit nicely in a manga. Kizumi is a kitty girl who's gotten herself a rather cushy job as the house cat in the giant's castle. Originaly posted in Panhistoria under the character name Kitzumi Asaku on Date: 11-20-06 10:41 With a few edits for clarity. "Meow, meow, meow! Mistress, I think there is strays in here already meow! Look, foot-e-prints, meow!" I said running up to the maid, and turning this way and that while pointing. She leaned down to pet my head. The giantess had on a maids outfit, and there was a workman who'd come to fix the front door as the mistress of the household was afraid strays, and wild animals might get in. "Now, now... what are you on about?" asked the maid kindly. She had the most beautiful baritone voice. Well she is a giantess after all. "Why that's a very cute kitty girl you've got." Boomed a big workman. "Ho, and I see muddy footprints... seems you've already had some strays wonder in here." "Oh, ho my! Kitzumi you didn't track those muddy prints in did you?" asked the maid. "Meow... My paws are clean, meow! We've got strays. Meow!" I say holding up one foot then the other. "I'm scared!" "No miss, she's not the culprit... this little one would never go traipsing about out in the mud." Replied the work man. "Looks to me you've at least three kitties, a beastie of some sort, and..." but then he trailed off, and in an angered tone... "And at least one Englishman!" "Oh my!" Said the maid. "I'd better go call animal control right away." And at that she was off to find a phone. "Meow, meow! wait for me, meow!" I said dashing off after here, but stopped just as I was coming to the potted fern. {Actually a clump of giant bamboo.} I'd heard a strange sound, I turned slowly, looked at the clump, and with a horrid realization knew that that was where the strays were hiding. "Mistress, meow!!" "Grab her, Meow! Before she gives us away!" said one of the kitty girls hiding in the clump, and next thing I knew three of them had pulled me in and were tying me up with the twine used to hold the plants upright. "Mrert, mew, mmmfff!" I protest as I was bound and gagged.

Things quickly went down hill, and a short time later... "Mrow? What have you don to my masters?!! Mrowl!" I said hopping into the room still tied up in twine. The giants were racing about with frog heads instead of their normal heads, and a dog, or donkey, or whatever boy was hanging onto a chair as if his life depended on it. "Hey, as long as this is the Jack and the beanstalk story we're stuck in, aren't we supposed to be stealing Something in order to progress this story?" Said one of the kitties who'd tied me up.

"Oh no, don't you be steeling from my masters!" I said struggling to get loose.

Fee! Fie! Foe! Fum! I smell the blood of an Englishman. Be he 'live, or be he dead, I'll grind his bones to make my bread.

Oh no... it was the master himself, and he didn't sound happy. The English man on the other hand had taken advantage of the general confusion, and was waist deep in a jelly doughnut. "Beats porridge." He said with jelly all over him. "Oh I know, the maid was supposed to give us some coins, then a golden chicken, and eggs that hatch singing harps..." Said one of the Kitty girls. "Honestly Carolyn, it's a golden goose that lays the harp." Says the one I'd over heard called Kaitlyn. "No, no, no, its a boom box that plays golden oldies... isn't it?" asks the youngest of the kitty girls. Suddenly the door swings open with a slam that is deafening. The big man himself, and... oh great, he's brought home a dog. "Hey, isn't that the dog from the Harry Potter story?" asks a dog, or donkey, or whatever boy, who was hanging on to a chair. "!RUN!!!" They all shout in unison. "Hey, wait for me!" I say hopping along as fast as I can. What can I say, I don't like dogs.

#Kitzumi #Jack and the Giant

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