Hello hello readers!

Still there? Hope so! Because strong Jelsa feels are coming after this one (and that can happen anytime soon!). You've been warned.

A/N: I tried to explain why North has that submissive character towards Tudyk, because even though North plays the role of Fezzik, I don't want to picture him as short-witted as that character is. Well, you'll see.

Aaand as always, kindly let me know what you think of it! I love reading your comments and feedback.

Hope you have a fun read! ^-^

-Ael

Chapter X - Unbalanced Fight

"He has beaten Aster!" North said, not quite sure he wanted to believe it, but positive that the news were sad; he liked Aster. He was the only one who wouldn't laugh when North asked him to play rhymes.

They were hurrying along a mountainous path on the way to the Guilder frontier. The path was narrow and strewn with rocks like cannonballs, so the Weseltonian had a terrible time keeping up. North carried Elsa lightly on his shoulders; she was still tied hand and foot.

"I didn't hear you, say it again," Tudyk called out, so North waited for the skinny man to catch up to him.

"See?" North pointed then. Far down, at the very bottom of the mountain path, the man in black could be seen running. "Aster was beaten."

"Inconceivable!" exploded Tudyk.

North never dared disagree with him. "Right. I'm so stupid," North nodded. "Aster has not lost to the man in black, he has defeated him. And to prove it he has put on all the man in black's clothes and masks and hoods and boots and lost eighty pounds."

The Weseltonian squinted down toward the running figure. "Fool," he hurled at the Russian. "After all these years can't you tell Aters when you see him? That isn't him."

"I'll never learn," North agreed. "If there's ever a question about anything, you can always count on me to get it wrong."

"Aster must have slipped or been tricked or otherwise unfairly beaten. That's the only conceivable explanation."

'Conceivable believable', the giant thought. Only he didn't dare say it out loud. Not to the Weseltonian. Tudyk started talking again, and that always meant he had to pay very strict attention. Nothing angered the skinny man as quickly as catching North thinking. Since he barely imagined someone like North capable of thought, he never asked what was on his mind, because he couldn't have cared less. If he had found out North was making rhymes, he would have laughed and then found new ways to make North suffer.

"Untie her feet," Tudyk commanded.

North put the Princess down and ripped the ropes apart that bound her legs. Then he rubbed her ankles so she could walk. Tudyk grabbed her immediately and yanked her away.

"Catch up with us quickly," he said.

"Instructions?" North called out.

"Finish him, finish him!" The Weseltonian was getting peeved. "Succeed, since Aster failed us."

"Oh yes, good, my way, thank you, Tudyk" North said to the little man. Then, summoning all his courage: "I need a hint."

The Weseltonian could barely control himself now.

"You're always saying how you understand force, how force belongs to you. Use it, I don't care how. Wait for him behind there" he pointed to a sharp bend in the mountain path "and crush his head like an eggshell." He pointed to the cannonball-sized rocks.

"I could do that, yes," North nodded. He was marvelous at throwing heavy things. "It just seems not very sportsmanlike, doesn't it?"

The Weseltonian lost control. It was terrifying when he did it. With most people, he'd scream and holler and jump around. With North, it was different: he got very very quiet, and his voice sounded like it came from a dead throat. And his eyes turned to fire.

"I tell you this and I tell it once: stop the man in black. Stop him for good and all. If you fail, there will be no excuses; I will find another giant."

"Please don't desert me," North said.

"Then do as you are told." He grabbed hold of Elsa again and hobbled up the mountain path and out of sight.

North glanced down toward the figure racing up the path toward him. Still a good distance away. Time enough to practice. North picked up a rock the size of a cannonball and aimed at a crack in the mountain thirty yards away.

Swoosh.

Dead center.

He picked up a bigger rock and threw it at a shadow line twice as distant.

Not quite swoosh.

Two inches to the right.

North was reasonably satisfied. Two inches off would still crush a head if you aimed for the center. He groped around, found a perfect rock for throwing; it just fit his hand. Then he moved to the sharp turn in the path, backed off into deepest shadow. Unseen, silent, he waited patiently with his killing rock.

North had been alone for quite a long time before he met Tudyk. Being so big and strong takes a lot of effort to support, so he was abandoned by his parents when he was but a tween. His strength often caused problems, but he never intended to. Nick just wanted to be appreciated by what he could think and do -like his rhymes, for example- and not by what he could smash. He had an innocent soul, and wondered at the mysteries of the world. But one can't feed off wonder alone, so he joined a Circus crew thanks to his unhuman size. However, he did not like to see fear in the eyes of the people -especially of the children- who watched him perform his strength tricks while playing the freaky bad guy.

Then Tudyk found him in a show the Circus gave in the North Pole. Tudyk flattered him and promised him all the 'BOOOOOOOOS' would be kept away. So he followed him. Tudyk needed North. But not half as much as North needed Tudyk. As long as Tudyk was around, he couldn't be alone. Whatever Tudyk said, North did. And if that meant crushing the head of the man in black…

So be it.

But not by ambush. Not the coward's way. Nothing unsportsmanlike. His parents had always taught him to go by the rules. North stood in shadow, the great rock tight in his great hand. He could hear the footsteps of the man in black coming nearer.

Nearer.

North leaped from hiding and threw the rock with incredible power and perfect accuracy. It smashed into a boulder a foot away from the face of the man in black, who almost jumped in surprise while grabbing and enlarging his magical weapon.

"I did that on purpose," North said then, picking up another rock, holding it ready. "I didn't have to miss."

"I believe you," the man in black said.

They stood facing each other on the narrow mountain path.

"Now what happens?" asked the masked man.

"We face each other as nature intended," North said. "No tricks, no weapons, skill against skill alone."

"You mean you'll put down your rock and I'll put down my staff and we'll try to kill each other like civilized people, is that it?"

"If you'd rather, I can kill you now," North said gently, and he raised the rock to throw. "I'm giving you a chance."

"So you are and I accept it," said the man in black, and he began to take off his magic staff and scabbard. "Although, frankly, I think the odds are slightly in your favor at hand fighting."

"I tell you what I tell everybody," North explained. "I cannot help being the biggest and strongest; it's not my fault."

"I'm not blaming you," said the man in black.

"Let's get to it then," North said, and he dropped his rock and got into fighting position, watching as the man in black slowly moved toward him.

For a moment, North felt almost wistful. This was clearly a good fellow, even if he had killed Aster. He didn't complain or try and beg or bribe. He just accepted his fate. No complaining, nothing like that. Obviously a criminal of character. Was he a criminal, though, North wondered. Surely the mask would indicate that. Or was it worse than that: was he disfigured? His face burned away by acid perhaps? Or perhaps born hideous?

"Why do you wear a mask and hood?" North asked.

"I think everybody will in the near future" was the man in black's reply. "They're terribly comfortable."

They faced each other on the mountain path. There was a moment's pause. Then they engaged. North let the man in black fiddle around for a bit, tested the man's strength, which was considerable for someone who wasn't a giant. He let the man in black feint and dodge and try a hold here, a hold there. Then, North locked his arms tight around.

North lifted.

And squeezed.

And squeezed.

Then he took the remains of the man in black, snapped him one way, snapped him the other, cracked him with one hand in the neck, with the other at the spine base, locked his legs up, rolled his limp arms around them, and tossed the entire bundle of what had once been human into a nearby crevice. That was the theory, anyway. In fact, what happened was this:

North lifted.

And squeezed.

And the man in black slipped free.

'Hmmm', thought North, 'that certainly was a surprise. I thought for sure I had him.'

"You're very quick," he complimented.

"And a good thing too," said the man in black.

Then they engaged again. This time North did not give the man in black a chance to fiddle. He just grabbed him, swung him around his head once, twice, smashed his skull against the nearest boulder, pounded him, pummeled him, gave him a final squeeze for good measure and tossed the remains of what once had been alive into a nearby crevice. Those were his intentions, anyway.

In actuality, he never even got through the grabbing part with much success. Because no sooner had North's great hands reached out than the man in black dropped and spun and twisted and was loose and free and still quite alive.

'I don't understand a thing that's happening', North thought. 'Could I be losing my strength? Could there be a mountain disease that takes your strength? That must be it, I must have caught a plague, but if that is it, why isn't he weak? No, I must still be strong, it has to be something else, now what could it be?'

Suddenly he knew. He had not fought against one man in so long he had all but forgotten how. He had been fighting groups and gangs and bunches for so many years, that the idea of having but a single opponent was slow in making itself known to him. Because you fought them entirely differently. When there were twelve against you, you made certain moves, tried certain holds, acted in certain ways. When there was but one, you had to completely readjust yourself. Quickly now, North went back through time. 'Yes', North thought. Of course. And suddenly he readjusted his style to what it once had been.

But by that time, the man in black had him by the throat!

The masked man was riding him, and his arms were locked across North's windpipe, one in front, one behind. North reached back but the man in black was hard to grasp. North could not get his arms around to his back and dislodge the enemy. He ran at a boulder and, at the last moment, spun around so that the man in black received the main force of the charge. It was a terrible jolt; North knew it was.

But the grip on his windpipe grew ever tighter.

North charged the boulder again, again spun, and again he knew the power of the blow the man in black had taken. But still the grip remained. North clawed at the man in black's arms. He pounded his giant fists against them.

By now he had no air.

North continued to struggle. He could feel a hollowness in his legs now; he could see the world beginning to pale. But he did not give up. He was the mighty Nick North, lover of rhymes, and you did not give up, no matter what. Now the hollowness was in his arms and the world was snowing.

North went to his knees.

He pounded still, but feebly. He fought still, but his blows would not have harmed a child. No air. There was no more air. There was no more anything, not for North, not in this world. 'I am beaten, I am going to die, he thought just before he fell onto the mountain path.'

He was only half wrong.

There is an instant between unconsciousness and death, and as the giant pitched onto the rocky path, that instant happened, and just before it happened, the man in black let go. He staggered to his feet and leaned against a boulder until he could walk. North lay sprawled, faintly breathing. The man in black looked around for a rope to secure the giant, gave up the search almost as soon as he'd begun. What good were ropes against strength like this? He would simply snap them.

The man in black made his way back to where he'd dropped his staff. He put it back on.

Two down and (the hardest) one to go...