Title: Seed of Darkness
Rating: T
Summary: A new threat descends upon Cloister and Jack must use the Crown of Erik to call on some unlikely allies. Fallon/Isabelle, Fumm/OC
Disclaimer: I make no money whatsoever off this story or any of the characters.
AN: The ice finally breaks between Isabelle and Fallon. Oh, and there's fanservice.
Chapter 9: Trust
"There it is. I knew I smelled it!"
You sound ever so pleased with yourself. The princess silently admitted that her giant companion had good reason to be happy. The lake was the most beautiful sight she'd seen in days. Wide as the moat that surrounded Cloister, the water sparkled a healthy blue that was tinged in places by green algae. Fallon had followed the scent of water for hours, tracking the paths of fast-moving mountain streams. Stepping across rivers strong enough to wash away a normal man, their waters splashing and foaming around his ankles, while the princess rode with her arms locked tight around the neck of his second head and prayed that he wouldn't trip on the jagged rocks beneath the water. Their journey had taken them out of the deepest recesses of the mountains, down steep hillsides and through narrow ravines until they'd finally found the bowl-shaped depression where all the streams joined. Where even a giant could have a bath.
Beside her, the second head huffed and rolled its eyes, unhappy with its brother for taking all credit for the discovery. Keeping a tight grip on its neck with one hand, Isabelle lifted her other hand up to stroke its cheek. The little creature immediately brightened. The princess cast a wary glance at the bigger head, wondering if her gentle touch also affected him.
Aside from a slight twitch in his cheek, Fallon's attention stayed focused on the lake as he headed down the gradual slope to its shore. He did, however, seem to be in a conversational mood. Smug satisfaction practically dripped from the giant's deep voice when he spoke. "Plenty of room for all of us, eh, little songbird?"
Isabelle cringed, her face turning beet-red. What he implied was indecent enough; the use of his new nickname for her added an extra layer of embarrassment. Singing him to sleep the other night had left her feeling unexpectedly happy and accomplished...until he'd woken up. "You did well last night, my little songbird," he'd grinned. She wasn't sure if he meant the name as a taunt or an endearment, and wasn't quite sure how to respond to it either way. Which was, she suspected, exactly what the sly old monster wanted.
As the heat drained from her cheeks, some of her old boldness returned. Turning to glare at the side of Fallon's nose, Isabelle shot back, "You need a bath more than I do."
Fallon's upper lip curled. "Of course. Because princesses never lose their sweetness. Or their temper." He touched a finger to the palm of his right hand, stroked a tiny scar nestled among the lines of his veins. It was, Isabelle realized, the scar she'd given him when she'd stabbed him in the garden.
Your one to talk about losing your temper. She didn't dare voice the thought aloud, unsure how far she could push him.
Thick fingers closed around her, and the princess shut her eyes against the dizzying change in perspective as the giant lowered her to the ground. Taking a moment to brush down her dress, she then took a tentative step closer to the water. Damp sand clotted between her toes, a sensation both unpleasant and oddly reassuring. Reeds and cattails grew in clumps along the shoreline, swaying whenever a light breeze ruffled them. Tiny ripples flowed over the surface of the water, otherwise all was still. If she could just forget about the reptilian menace - plus one unpredictable giant - that might suddenly come at her with teeth gnashing and eyes blazing, Isabelle thought she might be able to relax.
Steel armor rattled and clanked behind her as Fallon moved away. She'd only been half-joking when she'd said he needed a bath more than she did. The wounds he'd received in yesterday's battle needed to be kept clean. And while she felt thoroughly filthy clothed in a tattered, mud-spattered dress with unwashed hair and dirt grimed under her fingernails, going another day without a bath wouldn't leave her in danger of dying from infection.
Just like you, to put others needs before your own. Her father's voice drifted like old, sweet incense through the back of her mind, raising a brief flare of bittersweet pain in her heart. To you, even the life of a selfish, savage giant is worth saving.
A smooth voice from behind her jerked her roughly back to reality. "It's good to feel wind against my skin again."
She turned, and felt her jaw drop while her lungs forgot how to breathe.
Oh my...
During her brief stay in Fallon's castle, she'd found herself in the presence of many huge, nearly naked men. At the time, the threat of a gruesome, violent death at the hands of her captors had left her terrified brain incapable of noticing or appreciating any of their physical attributes. Indeed, she liked to think she was indifferent to her baser instincts concerning the opposite sex, what with her royal upbringing and father's nearly zealous crusade to keep her confined to the palace. That indifference, real or imagined, was being sorely tested at the moment by the sight before her now.
All the pieces of Fallon's armor lay in a silvery pile on the ground near his feet, along with the human and dragon bone trophies he liked to wear. Standing bare-chested, with only a ragged brown loincloth as a flimsy token of modesty, the giant was a living, breathing mountain of raw masculinity. Isabelle found herself rubbing at her arms and shifting from foot to foot just to keep from staring like a blushing maid at the curvature of each powerful, well-defined muscle.
She took a few steps back, trying to look everywhere but at the two-headed beefcake in front of her.
Glaring down at her, Fallon tilted his head to one side. The second head mimicked him while making a small burbling sound. Judging from the way Fallon's eyebrows were drawing together, her sudden shift in behavior mystified him. "What?" he snapped.
Isabelle felt her cheeks burning. "Do you have to-?" She waved an arm at the discarded pieces of armor, their sharp edges glinting innocently in the sun.
Fallon stared at her a second longer before comprehension hit him. His expression stayed perfectly blank, though for a princess who'd spent years at court learning - with mixed success - to read the subtle nuances of feeling behind the masks people made of their faces, the flicker of amusement in the giant's eyes did not go unnoticed. "Yes, I do. Not that you would know this, princess, but it's harder to swim when you're weighed down by steel."
You seemed to have done well enough in the fire-moat. Isabelle knew better than to voice that thought aloud, though.
Fallon took a step toward her, prompting her to take one back, so that she was almost standing ankle-deep in the water. A slow smirk crinkled the corners of his mouth. "You could undress too, Your Highness."
Had there been anywhere to hide, Isabelle would've gladly made herself scarce, for the sound of his thickly accented voice dragging out the sibilant hiss at the end of "undress" ignited her face like a torch. Refusing to look at him, she let her hair partially shield her features while she struggled to make the sizzling-hot butterflies in her stomach go away, feeling confused, awkward, and more than a little disgusted with herself. Fallon wasn't even human. He shouldn't be able to affect her like this, his intense stare and overwhelming maleness notwithstanding. And what about dear Jack, who'd thrown himself into Fallon's hands to save her from a hungry childhood nightmare made real...
It's the end of the line, princess.
Calling to mind the memory of Fallon's wide-open mouth coming closer and closer to her while she screamed provided the jarring reminder she needed to rethink the kindlier thoughts she'd had about him earlier. Cruelty was in his nature, and he enjoyed tormenting his intended prey. True, her future as sacrificial lamb to sate Fallon's lust for revenge in exchange for the safety of Cloister was wholly her own choice, but the knowledge that it was the right thing to do wasn't enough to staunch the hot tide of resentment boiling up towards the giant and his sick games. He was like a child, playing with his food before he ate it. The Royal Guardians, Elmont, Jack, Crawe, all of them had fought so hard to save her from the terrible fate written in the old legend, only to have it snare her again anyway.
It wasn't fair.
Folding her arms across her chest, she managed to sound as much like a pampered, snobbish princess as she could. "I'd rather keep my clothes on, if it's all the same to you."
The smirk didn't leave the giant's face. If anything, it grew larger as he raised a hand to scratch at a scabby claw mark that trailed like blood-colored ink over one bulging pectoral."As you like, little songbird."
His use of the pet name rankled, and Isabelle had to fight against the unladylike temptation to grind her teeth.
Fallon stared at her a moment longer, impassive, with the dark flecks in his gray eyes swirling. Then he grunted, giving a slight twitch of his head as he dismissed her and turned his attention to the giant strode past her, causing Isabelle to splash backwards through shallow water, overcome by the instinctive urge to get out of his way. The air around her grew cold as she was momentarily blanketed in his shadow. Water sprayed up wherever he stepped, some of it spattering over her dress, though his great feet never came too close to her. Soon he was past, wading deeper and deeper into the lake.
Watching him as he stood submerged in cool blue up to his waist, it occurred to Isabelle that her only source of protection was leaving her, alone and vulnerable on the shore of a remote lake, while it went off for a merry little swim. And even though they hadn't seen - or in Fallon's case, smelled - any dragons around, that didn't mean that the crafty lizards weren't just biding their time.
"Fallon!" she called out.
The giant paused mid-stride. Still keeping his back to her, he growled, "What?"
""What about the dragons?" Isabelle hoped she didn't sound as nervous as she felt.
Apparently, she did. Fallon partially turned, giving her a quarter-profile view of his face, and she could see his lips press together in an exasperated grimace."Are you always so easily frightened?"
Her pride stung, Isabelle couldn't stop herself from snapping back. "When I'm surrounded by legendary monsters who want to kill me, yes!"
She soon regretted her rash words when she heard a soft mewling sound, and caught a glimpse of the second head as it strained to look past its brother. Its big, droopy eyes looked moist and sad, and its puffy lips puckered in a perfect, upside-down U as it frowned at her. Isabelle bowed her head, shamed. In her emotional state, she'd forgotten all about the little deformed misfit, who was the only "monster" to show her any kindness since this whole ordeal had started.
Dear God, she thought, worrying her lower lip. I think I just hurt its feelings.
If Fallon took offense at her words, he didn't show it. He did, however, sound extra-gruff when he snarled back at her. "Stay close to the water, then! Dragons won't come near that which quenches their fire."
The second head tried to say something, but was cut short when Fallon abruptly turned away. Sunlight streamed down on his broad back, and Isabelle once again found herself staring at all the rippling muscle beneath his skin. Tearing her eyes away took some effort, much to her dismay. More water splashed as the giant waded deeper, grumbling all the while, until he gulped in air and plunged beneath the surface of the lake.
Isabelle breathed deep, feeling flustered and confused and slightly nauseated at herself for behaving so wantonly. She was engaged, after all! And Fallon was a giant. An enemy.
Not all of him. Guilt coated her mouth with ashes when she remembered the genuine hurt she'd seen in the eyes of his second head when she'd unintentionally labeled it a monster. She'd spent the past two days clinging to its rubbery neck, taking comfort in its childlike, non-threatening presence while Fallon ranted and raved. The little misfit was starting to feel like a friend, the only friends she had in this mad adventure. Including the poor creature in the category of "enemy" seemed wrong. And that bothered her.
Wading into the shallow water, she dropped to her knees in cold, clear liquid that soaked the hem of her dress. She really did need a bath, and washing up would distract her from the war of conflicted feelings going on inside her. Though the dress was a hindrance, she refused to take it off, fearing Fallon would surface at any moment. Scooping water into her hands, she splashed her face until she felt clean skin again, then ran her soaking fingers through her tangled hair. As baths went it was meager fare, but it made her feel better. More civilized.
Though I wish Fallon would hurry up. How long does it take a giant to bathe, anyway? Every few seconds, she cast nervous glances at the sky, expecting at any moment to see huge wings fly across the sun. The forest near the lake also made her uncomfortable. The branches of the trees tangled around each other like pythons, creating a canopy so green and thick no light reached the ground. It looked, she thought, like every forest spoken about in childrens' stories: dark, deep and full of monsters.
I'm not afraid, she told herself. Fallon can disappear for as long as he likes. I'm not afraid. She peeled back her damp sleeves, intending to scrub at her arms, only to stare in dumb fascination at the purplish latticework of scars twisting over her skin all the way from wrists to elbows. The sight made the scanty breakfast she'd had flip over inside her stomach. It seemed a lifetime ago since she'd knelt on the abbey steps, with her sword buried deep in the mouth of a dragon and her arms covered in its burning blood. After the itching blisters had healed, she'd hoped that any marks left behind would be faint. Cupping a handful of water, she splashed it over her right arm, only to make the purple streaks look even more ghastly against her pale skin.
At least I earned those scars. The thought gave her little comfort. If anything, it only made her sadder. Maybe if I had a sword again I wouldn't feel so-
\
Something slammed into the ground less than a dozen feet away from her, showering her with dirt and sand. Nearly toppling over in her rush to get to her feet, she caught a wavering reflection in the water of a pair of slitted yellow eyes framed by spiky brow ridges. Shock made the underside of her skin tremble; the creature's gliding approach had been so stealthy she hadn't even sensed it. Shaking, with water running in trickling gold streams over her dress and dripping off her arms and hair, she turned to face the creature.
A winged, demonic- looking lizard, it crouched at the water's edge. Its muscular torso was fully armored in hard, overlapping green scales that scraped against each other when it moved, or even breathed. The princess took a tentative step back, deeper into the lake. Keeping its thick-lidded yellow eyes fixed unerringly on her, the dragon opened a set of jaws wide enough to swallow a human arm whole, Isabelle kept backing deeper into the lake, step by step, until she stood waist-deep in cold water. Still, the dragon remained on shore. Something about it seemed hesitant, uncertain. A fringe of silver-tipped spikes around its jowls spread out like a peacock's fan as it sniffed at the water. Its nostrils dilated, becoming black pits at the tip of its snout.
Isabelle's heart threatened to tear itself out of her chest. Where was her giant? "Fallon!" Her shout came out rough and half-choked with fear.
The dragon dipped a scaly forepaw into the water, and abruptly pulled it back, hissing. It ruffled its wings as a wisp of superheated steam leaked from a gap in its rows of crooked teeth. Inching forward, it lifted a foreleg and cautiously stepped into the water again, sinking wickedly-sharp claws into the soft mud.
Isabelle took another step back...and felt her foot slip. She barely had time to gasp before cold water closed in around her, filling her nose and mouth. For a brief second her vision filled with a whirl of green and blue bubbles, then she broke the surface...just in time to see the dragon's claws reaching for her.
"Fallon!" she screamed.
The lake churned behind her, then fountained thirty feet into the air as a single massive body with two mismatched heads raised itself from the lake bed. Two pairs of dark-rimmed, angry eyes latched upon the dragon. A dragon caught in the act of trying to steal his princess! Battle rage filled the giant's heart as he charged forward, water sheeting off his torso in glittering streams. Startled, the dragon leapt backward, putting distance between itself and the princess just as the giant crashed into its side. Isabelle could only bob in the roiling water and watch, awestruck, as the dragon was pinned like a green butterfly beneath Fallon, who rained blows down upon it without stopping. His heavy fists were soon coated in steaming purple blood.
If the princess hadn't known better, she might've thought the giant was defending her honor.
Soon, the dragon's frantic wingbeats slackened, It squirmed less, making only weak attempts to rake Fallon with its claws. Sensing victory, Fallon's lips curled away from his teeth as he grabbed the dragon's neck in one hand, while keeping the other firmly planted on the beast's chest to hold it still. Forcing the dragon to bare its throat, he fastened his mouth around the vulnerable flesh. His teeth sliced through the dragon's neck like guillotine blades, and Isabelle had to swallow bile when she heard bones snap. Unable to watch anymore, she looked away.
When she looked back, the dragon's head hung from its neck by a single braided cord of skin and dripping, eggplant-colored muscle, nearly decapitated. Blood had spattered all over the face of Fallon's smaller head, painting its cheeks, nose, and forehead as though it had been dunked in grape juice. More rivulets of the strange blood were coursing down its temples, threatening to flow directly into its eyes. The little creature gibbered at its brother, who grudgingly offered assistance, flicking away the blood before it could hamper his brother's sight. Fallon himself was spitting out gobbets of purple-tinged saliva. His chest bore a fresh set of ragged gashes above the older, partially healed ones. He let the dragon's body fall among a clump of reeds, where it lay as a crumpled pile of scales, spikes, and bony protrusions The body made a soft, papery noise as it settled, like old snakeskin drying in the sun.
Floating in the water, Isabelle debated within herself. Even though she was soaking wet and freezing, Isabelle wasn't sure she wanted to approach her savior just yet. He just bit the head off a dragon. The crunch of monstrous teeth biting through bone awakened too many memories, none of them pleasant. She was still locked in indecision over what to do when Fallon decided the matter for her by taking two swift strides forward and snatching her out of the water.
Being lifted into the air by a giant's hand didn't help her increasingly tenuous grip on control. Panic threatened to overwhelm her, never mind that Fallon's grip on her wasn't as bruisingly tight as when he'd tried to eat her. Never mind the way his brows drew together in a look that might possibly be called concern.
She tried to speak, but Fallon cut her off.
"Quiet!" he snapped. "Do you not hear it?"
And then she did hear it. Hissing so loud it sounded like it came from the throats of a million angry cobras. Slowly, she turned her head until her gaze landed on the forest, sure beyond any doubt that the source of the danger lay concealed among its dark paths. She was right. From her vantage point off the ground she could see the trees shaking, bending as streamlined predators slipped among them, with only the telltale flash of green scales to betray their identity.
Dragons. Lots of them, all converging on the spot where Fallon stood. And judging from the winged shadows passing overhead, they were in the skies as well. Turning back to Fallon, she blinked as she stared into the bulging eyes of his second head.
They looked frightened.
She looked up at Fallon, whose expression turned hard and focused. "Can you fight them?"
He looked at her as if she'd just posed the most ridiculous question ever asked since the beginning of time. "Do you still think we are fools? We can't fight an entire army of them on our own, Your Highness!"
Isabelle followed Fallon's gaze as he returned his attention to the lake. Vast, deep, and with an opposite bank that was so remote it was invisible.
He turned back to her. "Can you swim?"
Isabelle shook her head. "Not very well, no."
It was probably fortunate Isabelle didn't understand Gantish. The guttural curse the giant used to express his feelings sounded so nasty in his native language no human translation could possibly do it justice.
The hissing was so loud now it was deafening. One
dragon had already emerged from the trees and was stalking toward them with slow, leisurely steps.
Trapped in Fallon's hand, Isabelle was struggling not to hyperventilate when she was lifted so high she could look directly into the giant's eyes. Being able to lock eyes with him was always a jarring experience, only now it was doubly so because she couldn't decipher what was going on behind that hauntingly direct gaze.
"Do you trust me, princess?"
She gaped at him. Was he joking? Since she'd met him, she'd been locked in a cage, chased by dragons, and stuffed in a bag of bones. Without thinking, she blurted out, "No!"
Unfazed, the giant shot her a grim, tight little smile. "Better start now, then."
And before Isabelle even had time to scream he shoved her into his mouth.
{O}
Fallon would've laughed, if his mouth hadn't been full.
It was ridiculous enough, cramming an entire human into his mouth. Knowing that he was doing so in order to protect said human was so hilarious he only hoped his brothers back home never found out about it. They'd never let him live it down.
Around him, the dragons came. Their hisses and snarls filled the air. Easy enough to hear, despite his right ear having nearly gone deaf from the screeching raised by his second head. The little half-wit thought he was going to eat its human pet. There hadn't been time to explain his plan to either of them and there wasn't any more time now. Sparing a quick, wistful glance at the pile of discarded armor, he ran for the lake, splashing into the water until it closed around his waist, then dove headfirst below the surface.
Unlike most of his kind, he'd never really liked getting wet, but he was a strong swimmer when it came down to either swimming or dying. He'd spoken the truth when he said he couldn't fight an entire army of dragon's on his own, though it galled him to have to flee from battle, even a hopeless one. Chances were he could take at least a couple of the bastards down before they got him. The princess would've been killed for certain, however, and that was a death he couldn't allow, unless he was the one doing the killing.
The water was icy cold, but clear. Much clearer than the castle moat he'd been dunked into. He swam fast, fighting against the currents with powerful strokes of his arms, kicking with both legs. The princess was helping to spur him on by wriggling like a scorpion in his mouth: kicking, punching, and just adding to his general discomfort. Never mind that his cheeks were stretched so far they felt ready to burst. It was a struggle simply not to give in to the temptation to just swallow her whole. But if he did that, he knew he would be breaking their agreement by taking his revenge too soon.
When has a little detail like that ever stopped you? a voice spoke up inside him. He didn't like that voice. It made him think there might be other reasons he'd want to keep her alive.
She would kick going down, Fallon told himself. As an excuse for showing mercy, it felt weak until he flashed back to the time he'd swallowed a knight wearing reinforced steel boots. The little upstart had nearly choked him before he'd quaffed an entire cask of beer to help the little human on his way.
I hate it when they kick.
CRACK! Wincing, Fallon almost opened his mouth in response to the sharp pain where a jab from inside damn near knocked two of his teeth out. Girl, I'm getting you across this thrice-damned waterhole as fast as I can! He normally found it amusing when the princess tried to fight him; he was finding it less amusing now. Fire and Thunder, I HATE it when they kick! He consoled himself by savoring her taste in his moat, the richest ambrosia he'd had in centuries. Sweet as apples drenched in spiced honey, but also mixed with a curious sour tang that reminded him of...
The foul juices of a dragon? Yes, it was there. Soaked into her very skin. Interesting. He hadn't tasted it on her the day he'd sampled her flavor in the garden. Of course, she'd been wearing armor that time.
He'd question her about it later. Right now he had to focus on getting her out of his mouth before her wild flailing dislodged every tooth in his head.
Relief swept through his aching body and burning lungs as the lake grew shallow enough for his toes to touch the bottom. Pebbles and rocks chafed the soles of his feet as he waded to shore, inhaling deeply through his nose when he could finally raise his head above water. His second head released its own held breath in a ripping, noisy gust, then glared at him expectantly. He knew what it wanted, and he was more than happy to oblige. Striding quickly onto shore, he spat a miserable-looking princess into his hand. With her arms and legs dangling over the sides of his hand, the girl lay across the flat of his palm unmoving and gleaming wet as a golden fish. Fallon watched her, expecting her to scream or curse him. Instead, she just lay in his open hand like a dead thing, her sopping hair sticking to her shoulders in a tangled, hazel-colored mess, her glazed eyes wide-open and staring at nothing.
Pain shot through Fallon's waterlogged ears as his second head let loose with a high-pitched, anguished yowl, the meaning of which was obvious. What did you do? Some of its concern started to affect him as he raised the stunned human to his nose and sniffed her. No smell of blood. She wasn't hurt and he saw the rise and fall of her chest. Most likely, she was simply in shock and they'd just have to wait for her to come out of it. Perfect
Why do humans have to be so damn fragile? He grumbled to himself as he cradled the little female in his hands. He gazed down at her, studied the strange, beautifully soft angles of her face, and felt something brittle give way inside his heart. She was so small, so defenseless and vulnerable...
"Princess?" he asked tentatively. A low murmur came from beside him, the sound of his little brother chiming in.
Something rustled in the tall grass nearby. Fallon's hackles rose. Cursing himself for a fool, he tore his eyes away from the princess and scanned his surroundings. He was on open ground, with a dangerous clear sky above him and a long trek through hilly terrain before they would find shelter. Swimming across the lake might've thrown the lizards off his scent for now, but it wouldn't be enough to make them give up the hunt. He worried little about himself if they were ambushed, but the princess wasn't in any shape to fight, even if it were possible for her to hold her own against a fire-breather.
Checking the position of the sun, Fallon set off for the northern hills, carrying the princess in his cupped hands. He'd barely taken ten long strides before a dragon thrust itself in his path. The beast's scale-covered chest nearly hugged the ground as one foreleg extended to bar his way, while its spike-studded head whipped around to face him, teeth bared and eyes flashing.
Fallon growled, deep and slow and threatening. He tracked his adversary's every movement: the swish of its pointed tail, the positioning of its folded wings, each time its ribs became visible when it breathed. This dragon was small, lightly muscled but with a sleekness that spoke of a wolf's gift for speed. Fallon began racing through possible attack stratagems in his mind. A single dragon, no matter how fast, could be easily dealt with by an experienced Gantuan warrior, especially in a straight fight, but it wasn't standard practice for his kind to do battle while shielding very traumatized, very breakable humans. Fortunately, this dragon didn't seem in any hurry to attack. Lambent yellow eyes glared at him from down the end of its sickle-shaped beak. Then its throat began to work, the pale green flesh bulging as the creature forced out harsh, half-choked cries.
Fallon began to understand. The ugly snake didn't intend to attack, but to deliver a message. Though they were all capable of speech, dragons hardly ever deemed it worth their while. Unless the creature to whom they spoke had several times thwarted their schemes. In which case, they always had something unpleasant to say.
It took several moments for the choked sounds to coalesce into words. When they did, they were raspy, crowlike utterances barely recognizable as speech. "I speak for the nest. First and last time I will ask it of you, Two-Heads!" The dragons eyes swiveled in their sockets, each working independently to keep both of his heads in view. It was unnerving, but the giant hid his uneasiness behind a snarl. "Give us the sweet little maiden!" The dragon snapped its jaws shut in a decisive click.
That wasn't exactly asking, Fallon thought as he stared down at the hunched reptile. Of all the pretentious arrogance! Fallon's second head expressed its own feelings in a vicious snarl a millisecond before his larger brother repeated the gesture. Clutching the princess to his chest, the giant shouted, "She is MINE! My claim was on her before you worms ever poked your foul snouts from your shells."
The dragon spread its wings, then folded them again like an irritated bird. It shut its eyes and reopened them in a long, slow blink, a sign Fallon recognized as expressing indifference."And we claim her now, Two-Heads. The pretty princess killed our egg-brother. Robbed him of rightful hunt-prize. Food should not fight back."
Fallon hid his surprise at this revelation behind a mask of stony calm. Whereas his smaller, more excitable brother failed completely, barking out a quick string of garbled -up words that vaguely sounded like She did WHAT? The dragon paid his little brother no mind, however, keeping its slitted yellow gaze entirely trained on Fallon, who sneered back, "Really? No fighting takes all the fun out of it, if you ask us."
"Place her in my jaws, and your tribe may hunt human meat with us." Curving its neck, the dragon opened its toothy jaws and waited, like a baby bird expecting food.
If the giant had still carried his flail, he would've let it do the answering for him. As it was, his fist made a fine substitute for the iron ball when he stooped and sent it flying at the dragon's face, while cradling the princess in his other hand. His knuckles connected hard with the curved tip of the beast's snout, knocking a few scales loose before sending the beast cartwheeling backwards. By the time it rolled to a stop, it had crashed through a thicket of young beech saplings, flattening them like wheat stalks. "We would rather suck flyblown corpses than hunt with you! The princess belongs to us!" A raucous shout echoed his declaration as his second head agreed. The dragon rolled on its back like a turtle, wings flapping and jaws snapping. In a moment, it had regained its feet and crouched amid a ruin of smashed wood, sap, and leaves, glaring at the giant with shining, hate-filled eyes.
The dragon hissed, prompting Fallon to sneer back. He cradled the princess even closer to his chest before speaking. "You want her, you'll have to shed blood for her. I've already sunk my teeth into one of your kind today. I can easily kill more."
Though I hope I don't have to. Tensing, Fallon watched as the dragon's throat puffed out. Then it seemed to gag, its whole body shivering in quick little spasms while nothing more dangerous than a few white smoke clouds burst from its mouth.
Fallon grinned. "Not feeding well lately, are you?" A gleeful giggle from his second head. "Not enough fuel for your fire."
Things crunched and broke as the dragon extricated itself from the pile of debris that used to be a thicket. It spread its wings, ribbed supports stretching, transparent membranes backlit by the sun so that they practically glowed with green light. "Doesn't matter!" it screeched. "Bastard sons of filthy angels! Mother will soon swallow you all!"
It pushed off with its hind legs and vaulted into the sky. Fallon watched it until it was barely more than a black pinprick against the blue, feeling oddly jealous. Such loathsome beasts should never have been blessed with flight.
In his arms, the princess began to stir. Her small hands pushed feebly against his chest.
"Be still!" he snapped. His second head repeated the order in a voice that creaked like rusted iron hinges. Miraculously, she obeyed, going rigid as death in his hands. A breath of fear drifted up to him, causing both giants to wrinkle their noses.
Today was a pleasant little disaster, he thought archly. A fresh set of claw marks streaked his chest, he had lost his armor, and every dragon in the entire cursed world wanted a piece of his princess. More than a piece, if they could get it. A growl built up inside him, but was smothered when pain flared from the wounds on his chest. He'd have to find more of the healing plant later. First task was to get Her Majesty back to the cave in one piece, then he'd deal with the consequences when they came. Who knows? Perhaps he'd have a grateful little princess at his beck and call tonight.
{O}
"PRINCESS! COME OUT!"
"No!"
"COME OUT OR I'LL-"
"SQUAWK!"
Fallon sighed, and brought his big hands up to rub at his aching temples. He should've known the girl would try something like this. She'd been quiet the whole way back to the cave. Fear had boiled from her skin, tainting her usual sweet scent with its pungent reek. Normally, he liked the smell of fear on humans but smelling it on her made him feel...different. He'd been so distracted that, upon reaching the cave, he'd made the mistake of setting her on the ground, instead of on the shelf of rock where he usually kept her. Once he'd done that, he'd meant to roll the boulder to bar the entrance and scarce had turned his back before the insufferable girl was dashing off for the smallest, darkest crevasse she could find and squeezing herself into it. Her scent had betrayed her, of course. Sniffing out her whereabouts took only moments, but she'd evidently learned a thing or two about him, the crevasse was only a chink in the rock wall, barely wide enough to poke his fingers into. For a frightened, pint-sized human, it made a very neat little hidey-hole, especially when said human was pressed so far back he couldn't even see her.
Speaking slowly, he struggled to keep the angry tremor out of his voice. "Princess." The angry tremor still found its way in, and was accompanied by another reproachful squawk from his twin. "Come out, and we promise not to hurt you."
Her high, terrified shout came from deep inside the wall. "Please, just leave me alone!"
This is useless. Fallon clenched and unclenched his fists, itching to do some damage. It would've been so easy to just punch a hole through the wall and drag her out, but she could very easily be injured by falling debris, and as frustrated as he was, he didn't want to hurt her.
Yet.
Growling to himself, the giant brushed a vast space clear of rocks and moss, then sat down outside the princess's hiding place.
"Then we shall sit out here and wait for you."
No answer came from within the wall, and for the first time in over a century the giant found himself at a loss over how to handle a situation. This wasn't warfare or an interrogation or any of the countless hunting games he was good at. This was a human girl frightened out of her wits. He'd guessed something like this would happen eventually. He'd seen captured human soldiers break under pressure, mostly because he'd been the one supplying the pressure. Usually, such captives were disposed of after no more use could be made of them, but the princess was far too valuable to cast aside.
Minutes crawled by in total silence, and with each ragged breath he took the blazing hot anger in him slowly cooled, leaving an uncomfortable emptiness inside. His shoulders slumped, his head hung low, and his hands lay together in his lap, long fingers twisting and fidgeting. Never before had a human's fear of him made him so dejected. He searched his whole being for reasons why this should be, and the answer, when it came, unnerved him.
Cracks were forming in the outer crust of his hard heart. So far, they were no bigger than hairline fractures, but there were many of them, and the princess's sweet nature was their cause. Her face, her scent, her voice, all of it was chipping away at the unfeeling stone in his chest, bringing forth the great furnace at its center. His soul burned from the molten heat as he was filled with desires and emotions that had lain buried for countless ages of forgotten years.
It was the same condition that had taken his Father. And now it was taking him too.
Proof that, of all things, God still had a sense of humor.
An army of conflicting feelings clashed as a violent war raged inside him. A siege upon his very nature. His warrior spirit shouted for him to kill the girl, rip her body to pieces and season her tender meat with pepper and vinegar before gulping it all down until there was nothing left of her. But the small, disorganized army fighting on behalf of his heart's desire would not give up easily. He'd felt drawn to her ever since he'd first seen her as a terrified prisoner. Bloodlust and hate had clouded his judgement, for he should've guessed there was more to her arrival than mere accident. A suspicion took root in his mind as to a possible reason behind her unexpected arrival in Gantua. And if what he suspected was true, then he and his entire race had missed their chance at salvation. Again.
Fallon's thoughts were so bleak he soon lost himself in staring morosely into the dark recess where the princess had hidden herself, wondering how to get her out.
Simple enough, lad. You have to make her trust you. Imagining his Father's advice was more irritating than helpful. How the hell was she ever going to trust him, the ancient enemy of her family? Fallon glanced over at his second head, who returned his stare with a small noise accompanied by a quizzical lift of an eyebrow. It was no secret to him that his halfling twin had taken a liking to the girl, a liking that he thought was returned. Never before had he bothered to ask advice from the little half-witted growth on his shoulder, but he figured now he had nothing to lose by trying. "What do we do?"
His twin's eyes shone, his dopey smile was huge, and Fallon's spirits lifted as he hoped to hear the little misfit speak comprehensible words to him for once.
"Glurrrrgher! Barfen! Squeeee!"
All his hopes plummeted out of the sky, were dashed into pieces, and swirled into dust. "What?" Resting his chin in one hand, Fallon could barely muster the energy for his usual caustic reply. It was pitiful, his little brother's eagerness to help. He lowered his eyes again, fixed them on the spot of darkness where his quarry was hiding. His brow furrowed as he thought over possible ways to approach her. A frightened human will hide until it thinks it's safe to come out. He'd learned that from experience. So we just have to make her feel safe.
He took a deep breath. This wasn't going to be easy.
"Princess," he said, keeping his voice low and even, "why do you hide from us?"
When it finally came, her reply was sharp and accusing. "You tried to eat me."
A growl thrummed in the back of his throat before it was choked off. He reminded himself that she didn't know what had happened once they'd made it across the lake, didn't know that she owed him her life yet again. "Princess, if I wanted to eat you, you'd be in my belly by now. I did what I did to save you. I promised I would not take my revenge until after the dragons had been dealt with and to that I will hold true." His small head chirped in agreement.
Silence greeted him, broken only by the occasional drip of water. He bent closer and squinted, trying to peer into the girl's dark sanctuary. Thought he spied a flash of tattered gold silk that vanished almost as soon as he'd laid eyes on it. Leaning back, he exhaled sharply through his nose, clearing it of dust. The fear scent was still strong around her. Stroking his chin, he tried a different tactic.
"One who has slain a dragon should have little to fear from us." He leaned back and waited. If she didn't answer this time, he would tear down the wall and...
"How did you know? I-I mean who told you I did any such thing?"
At last, we're getting somewhere. One corner of his mouth curved into a triumphant smirk, which was mirrored by his twin's lopsided grin. Carefully, he shifted himself so that he was a fraction closer to the opening.
"You're scars told me, princess," he said, keeping his voice as low and soothing as it was possible to make it. "Only one who has drenched themselves in dragon's blood comes away with marks like those. An impressive feat, Your Highness. No human has ever slain a dragon and lived."
His ears pricked up, catching the sound of rustling fabric. Small stones crunched beneath him as he scooted just a tiny bit closer. If she ventured far enough out of her hole, he'd have a chance of snatching her.
When she finally spoke, her voice was small and hesitant. "But in all the old stories..."
Try as he might, the giant couldn't hold back his snarl. "You mean the lies of dead men?" An angry squeal from his twin reminded him to stay focused. The girl was too young to know that the reason no dragonslayer's ever survived was because they were all systematically hunted down by the snakes and eventually killed. The lust for vengeance ran hot in both Gantuan and dragon blood. As long as fire-breathers roamed Albion, they would never stop hunting her. Worry, outrage, and a territorial desire to protect his rightful prize all rose up within him, making his nostrils flare and hands clench into fists.
Shaking himself, he forced his attention back to the girl. Perhaps it was time for a little flattery. "Such a feat took great courage, Your Highness. Know that we do not offer praise lightly."
Her voice, low and resentful, echoed around the cave. "You don't even like me. You gave me to your Cook."
It took a full minute of controlled breathing before the giant could get a grip on the fraying leash of his temper. "Only because Roderick commanded it," he said. A muscle twitched in his cheek as he recalled the arrogant little man. "I would never have given you to such a foul cook. The fool couldn't even stew a lamb's heart without spoiling it. I would rather have eaten you raw than-"
The giant stopped mid-sentence as a familiar high-pitched wail shot daggers into h8is ears. Slapping a hand to the side of his head while baring his teeth in a pain-filled grimace, Fallon endured yet another incoherent tirade from his second head, a spluttering, mashed-up string of angry jabber where the only words he could remotely make out sounded suspiciously like You idiot!
Curling one hand into a fist and making a threatening gesture proved successful in persuading the raving little lunatic to shut its mouth. Lapsing into sullen silence, his twin narrowed its round eyes into slits while jutting its lower lip out in an angry pout. Its glare made Fallon feel oddly self-conscious, like something was expected of him. Something he needed to say if he was ever going to get the girl to come out of her stinking hole. A tremor passed through his body as he thought back to how, on the cliffs of his homeland, he'd been chastised by Fumm concerning the princess. She was helpless and a prisoner! You had no right!
He cleared his throat.
"Princess," he called out. "When you were caged, I should not have treated you so roughly. I am" - he found he had to force the next words through gritted teeth - "sorry for what I did to you."
The words hung in the air. The two giants held their collective breath, waiting.
"No, you're not," she said.
Her rejection hit Fallon like arrows fired from a phalanx of scorpions. Snatching up a small boulder, he turned and, snarling, hurled it into the flickering gloom at the opposite end of the cave. The sound it made as it shattered echoed through the stone chamber, bouncing hollowly among the twisted spears of stalactites. Fuming, the giant's entire body quivered in pent-up fury as he whirled back to regard the chink in the wall. Never before had he dealt with a woman so frustrating. If he'd had hair, he would've been tearing it out by the handfuls. Whatever his second head was yammering was quickly drowned out by Fallon's own angry outburst, his strained voice barely staying below the level of a roar. "Fire and Thunder! Have we not been punished enough? Do you know what it felt like when that cursed beanstalk sprouted inside us? We are no strangers to pain, my twin and I, but being rent asunder from within was an agony like none other. The imps of Hell have yet to devise a more cruel torment. "
Her reply, faint and scared, drifted out to him. "I'm sorry you suffered, but that wasn't my fault."
A tidal wave of red rage nearly overwhelmed him. He pounded a fist into the cold stone floor, leaving a two-foot deep crater surrounded by a spiderweb of cracks. All control finally slipped and his voice became a full-fledged roar as he shouted at her. "NOT YOUR FAULT? You, my little princess, have brought us nothing but misery and suffering since we saw your face in that dungeon! How many of my brothers died because of you? And how many of your own? Your friend, Crawe, might yet live had he not thrown his life away. For you! Death follows your footsteps wherever you roam. And you claim it's not your fault!"
As soon as the words were out of his mouth, he regretted them. Throughout the cave, dim green moss-light sputtered in clumps like beds of fireflies as Fallon grew silent, the inferno within him slowly cooling. His throat was beginning to hurt from all the growling and yelling, he was still wet from swimming in the lake, and his head felt like an entire castle had fallen onto it. Deep creases etched themselves on hi forehead as he leaned against the stone wall beside him, all the fire and bluster draining out of him in a long, deep sigh. Sparing a glance at his twin, he saw the edges of its ears droop in a comical show of defeat. He knew what it was thinking. That last outburst likely sent the princess scurrying so far back into her shelter that not even seeing a dead man's apparition would be enough to force her out. His chest twinged, the wounds he had suffered today once again making themselves known. He closed his eyes.
When he opened them, the princess was sitting on a lump of rock within easy reach of his hand. A shivering wisp of a girl in tattered gold, with her arms wrapped tight around her middle as if she were about to fall to pieces and, most distressing of all, there were tears flowing freely down her cheeks.
"You're right," she said, wiping at her eyes. "It was all my fault. When the beanstalk reached Gantua, I had a whole day where I could've climbed back down. But I didn't and-" Her face crumpled as she nearly choked on her sobs. "My mother used to tell me that when I was Queen, I could make the world a better place. And now that I am Queen, my kingdom's falling apart, my people are dying all around me, and I can't do anything to stop it. I haven't even been crowned yet and I'm already a failure."
A soft, mewling note of distress came from his second head. Then its neck began to strain and pull against his shoulder, like it would tear itself away and go to her. An unsettling tightness was in his body. Watching the princess weep was sloughing more layers of stone from his heart. Months ago, he would've laughed at her weakness. He couldn't bring himself to laugh now.
Heaving a resigned sigh, he reached down and gathered the princess up in his hands. Her little frame shook from cold and fear; her clothes still damp, icy, and clinging in ways that were not entirely unpleasant to his eyes. Any giant who said human women were ugly was a fool. The beauty was there, it just took some getting used to.
He lifted her up, hesitated, then pressed her against the naked skin of his belly. Judging from her surprised gasp, such gentle treatment had not been what she'd expected. She made a token show of resistance, pushing and squirming against him, but soon gave up and allowed herself to be held. Her weight seemed unbelievably light in his hands, as if she were made of clouds and air. Fallon could feel the press of her cheek against his flesh, was aware of her tear-stained eyes blinking up at him in confusion.
Gazing down on her, he spoke very slowly, letting his second head chime in whenever it wished. "You could've climbed back down." He paused, waited until th princess answered him with a nod. "Why didn't you?"
Her eyes misted over, seeing visions of a legendary world full of wonder and danger. "I wanted to look around first." She lowered her eyes, looking almost embarrassed. "I'd heard stories about Gantua all my life. I...just wanted to see it."
"Hmm," he grunted. He'd thought as much. "When we were younger," he said, careful not to growl lest he frighten her, "we dreamed of one day climbing Old Stormshiver, the highest peak on Gantua. It is said to be so tall its summit touches the feet of God himself." He paused, while the princess stared at him with very wide, wondering eyes. "Do you believe in God, princess?"
It was the first question he'd put to her when he'd conducted her interrogation, and judging from the pained look in her eyes, she remembered. Unfamiliar guilt tied Fallon's gut into a knot as the princess gulped, no doubt thinking of dark dungeons and cages. "I'm...finding it a little difficult at the moment."
"Do you know how Gantua came to be in the sky, princess? Why it floats there, unaided, and is forever separate from your world?"
She blinked at him, causing another tear to slide down her cheek. "No, I don't."
He nodded, having fully expected her not to know. Mankind's ancestors were still crawling in mud and throwing rocks at the stars when all this had taken place. "It is there because God's angels put it there." He paused, feeling her start to tremble a little in his hands. Carefully holding her against him with one hand, he moved his other hand so that he was free to trace a finger down her spine."Long ago they decided giants could not stay on Earth. So they created a place in-between, a place that was neither of Heaven or Earth, and gave it to us to be our home."
"Do you know what it is like, my princess, to be trapped between two worlds? Knowing that one rejects you and the other is already full of-" He'd been about to say worthless little meatsacks but fortunately his brain cut him off just in time.
With his hands wrapped around her, he could feel the unnatural beat of her heart - twice as fast as his own - and worried it might explode inside her chest. He stopped stroking her spine and began drawing lazy circles over the tense muscles of her back, careful not to apply too much pressure. A dark, hateful corner of his mind wondered what the hell he was doing, but he found it was becoming easier to keep that part of himself at bay. At least when the princess was looking at him the way she was now.
Isabelle stared up at him, tears glimmering on her long lashes. She licked her lips nervously, not fully relaxing under his touch but not fighting to get away either. "After my mother died, I-I kept running away from the palace. Because I felt like I didn't belong there. Everyone treated me like the pampered daughter of the King but they never tried to understand who I really was. They didn't care about the real me, people just wanted to be my friend so they could curry favor with my father." She sighed, her voice growing very soft and sad. "They wouldn't have bothered with me if I wasn't a princess. So I would run off and mingle with common folk whenever I could. To them, I was just another face." She sighed again, was unable to meet his eyes. "If I hadn't run away from home the night the beanstalk sprouted, I wouldn't have been taken to Gantua, and you would never have caught me."
Fallon permitted himself a silent smirk. Oh, we would've found a way to catch you, princess. Never fear. Even if we'd had to grow wings and fly down to Albion like a bird. "When you are born with two heads, princess, finding 'the real you' is not only impossible, but pointless." An indignant screech from beside him, a word that sounded like a strangled Hey! Fallon ignored it, focusing all his attention on the girl in his arms. "And I was wrong about you, princess."
Blank surprise greeted him. "You...were?"
This time, saying the words was easier, and even a little rewarding when the princess's mouth opened in a look of pure amazement."We don't believe you ever truly meant any harm, little one. We don't even believe you ever truly had a choice in the path laid out for you. "We...I am sorry, princess." There was a wriggling on his shoulder, then a small croak as his second head mimicked him, all sad-eyed and droopy-eared. Sorry.
One of her small human hands lay against his skin. He found the touch...distracting. "But...but...why?" she stammered.
"Isabelle," he said, feeling a strong desire to use her given name. "What were the chances that a daughter of mankind, a girl descended from the divine blood of kings, would be brought to us on the leaves of the first beanstalk to sprout in more than a thousand years?"
She shrugged. "Coincidence?"
"No, little princess." One of Fallon's fingers moved to touch her hair, and he found he liked the silken feel of it. "Your coming was likely a test." A test that we failed miserably.
"And all this with the dragons is also a test?" she asked, sounding uncertain.
Fallon lifted his left shoulder in a half-shrug. "It could be." He didn't give the question much thought, finding himself more interested in the princess's hair. Not many of his kind had hair; getting to touch it was a true novelty. "God likes to do these things now and then, just to make all our lives interesting."
"I wish He'd warn us first."
The giant chuckled softly. "Don't we all, little songbird."
Time passed. The princess leaned against him, a thoughtful look in her eyes. Fallon growled to himself, a low, contented rumble.
"What about your armor?" Isabelle asked finally.
"I'll go back for it in the morning." And hope that the dragons haven't melted it all to slag.
Cold air swirled around the cave, heavy wit the scent of water, moss, and petrifaction. Fallon inhaled, catching a heady draught of Isabelle's scent, and noticed it had changed slightly. A silly grin spread over the face of his second head, almost from ear to ear.
"You smell better when you aren't soaked in fear, princess."
"I thought you hated the way I smelled," Isabelle said, her mouth quirking up in a half-smile. "You said I smelled like Eric the Terrible."
Fallon leaned toward her, prompting Isabelle to cringe ever-so-slightly away. There was no way for her to escape, however, and the giant felt his heart burn with pleasure at having her in his grasp and at his mercy/ "You carry a trace of his scent in your blood," he growled. "But the rest of you...," he paused, and inhaled deeply,"...smells like Heaven."
That caused her face to turn a delightful shade of red before she looked away from him. And so the two-headed monster held the princess a while longer, continued to stroke her arms and shoulders and play with long strands of her soft, nut-brown hair, while his heart further softened to molten goo in his chest. And it occurred to Fallon to wonder how, if this kept up, would he still have the heart to eat her in the end.
{O}
AN: I've tweaked this chapter so many times and I'm still not sure how I feel about it. I didn't intend to get too deep into the theological stuff, but the movie set it up so that theological references are hard to leave out. I also found out that the plant Jack used to treat Isabelle's wounds on Gantua was yarrow, not moss. Tiny little mistake, I know, but I still felt the urge to facepalm when I caught it.