Thumbelina

Part One: Seed

To say time had not been kind to Sally Jackson would be at once true and all the same rather misleading; time was not kind on anybody in those times. Nonetheless, Sally Jackson was granted no exception to the cruelties and harshness of her time. Deprived of her parents at a young age, those beloved young souls winked out by the ominous black disease that spread like wildfire through the villages and towns of near and far, and living under the destitution of her cruel uncle, Sally was a rarely beautiful soul in a world of brevity and darkness. Barefoot and clothed in the thin rags of her childhood, the seventeen-year-old Sally watched as her uncle left for town one morning to never return. She waited one week, which turned into two, which turned into an entire summer before her ever watchful eyes.

That he wasn't coming back she understood perfectly clear, but she slipped on her mother's old coat, the best article of clothing they owned in all its patchwork and tattered glory, and undertook the two day walk into town to learn what she already knew. The village did not greet her kindly. The black disease that took her parents also claimed the lives of more than half of the village and her appearance was met with unhampered suspicion.

"They got sick first," could be heard in the whispers that followed her steps.

"They brought it here."

"How did she survive?"

"Witch."

Sally pulled her coat tighter around her, her heart and stomach empty. Her uncle was gone, although a revelation this discovery hardly was. No, it was not the disappearance of her only kin that saddened Sally Jackson, rather the dark and mistrustful looks of the village she could never call home. As quietly as she came, Sally began the trip back to the little farm house she supposed was her own now.

"Somebody's far from home."

"Mothers," Sally greeted kindly, dipping her head respectively when she stumbled upon the small group of travelers just outside the village.

The three ladies that stood before her were no random travelers or vagabonds, rather the three collectively known as and called the Grey Sisters. If they had individual names Sally knew not, nor did she believe the sisters themselves remembered. Witches, the villagers called them too, but behind closed doors under the cloak of night for those who insulted the Grey Sisters rarely breathed for long and death followed their careful, slow tread.

If the sisters had names, Sally mused, it wouldn't matter much anyway for they looked identical. Shriveled up faces hide their eyes, although sometimes Sally thought she caught a glimpse of a singular eye before it disappeared behind a wrinkled forehead again. Only one spoke at a time, each with only one remaining tooth that seemed to always draw the listener's attention.

"You are far from home, child," the middle sister said.

"Your uncle is dead," the third said.

"The villagers have forsaken you," said the first.

Sally could only smile sadly at the trio. "Yes," she agreed simply.

"How will you survive?"

"Oh, I will survive as I always have done," Sally assured them with a tired smile. "My chicken still lays eggs and a wild rooster will one day find her and make one fertile I am sure. I have the farm and the seeds of my uncle's garden and for only one person, myself, there shall always be plenty."

The third sister nodded but it was the middle one who spoke, "Of physical survival, we speak not of."

"You are strong, little one," the first agreed.

"But lonely," the third threw in.

"I'm afraid not much will change that," Sally sadly replied. "Unless perhaps a lost traveler stumbles upon my door."

It was a feeble and foolish hope, one that didn't bring Sally any cheer or real substances but she smiled all the same because to do otherwise was to give up. The sisters stared at her and Sally tolerated it, eager for any kind of social interaction, even if it was uncomfortable and her companions may not be entirely human.

"Here dear—"

"—plant this seed—"

"—and wait for it to grow—"

"—water it—"

"—care for it—"

"—and it shall bring to you what you desire."

The third sister reached her slightest trembling hand out, a single brown seed in the palm of her hand. Sally knew better than to refuse and she politely reached forward to take the seed. She smiled politely and gave her thanks, turning the little seed over in her hand. It was an oval shaped seed, a rich brown in color except for the tip, which was brushed with white. She'd never seen anything like it and as she turned it over in her palm, couldn't decide what kind of seed it was.

"Thank you, I shall take good care of it," Sally promised, closing her fingers around the little seed.

The Grey Sisters smiled.

"We—"

"—know—"

"—dear."

They walked on after that, side by side in a slow, careful rhythm as they continued down the dusty road. Sally watched them go for a moment, wondering sadly when she would see people again, before continuing on her own way. The farm house waited quietly for her under the pale light of the rising sun and Sally smiled wanly as it came into view.

Sally planted the seed in clear view of her window. She picked a nice spot, carefully weeding and tilling the little plot in preparation for whatever the seed might yield. It was a sunny spot, but it had enough shelter if the sun grew too hot.

"The Sisters say you shall bring me what I desire," Sally told the seed as she gently covered it with dirt. "I've seen enough shadows and heard enough whispers in the night to trust in what they say. I don't know what I desire most, little seed, save to not be alone anymore. Grow tall and strong little one, I shall watch over you."

And so she did. She kept the plot carefully groomed and cared for as the year waned on, safe from the cold of the winter and the rain of the spring, in the heat of the sun and the dryness of drought Sally cared for the not yet blossomed seed. It wasn't until two seasons after she planted the seed, when the rain of the spring was coming to an end, that it began to sprout. A little curl of green starting pushing its way passed the soil, reaching its tiny limb towards the sky. A single stalk grew out of the ground until it stopped, standing proud halfway the length up Sally's shin. There it stayed until summer began to call—and then a bud appeared.

"A flower," Sally realized, grinning widely as she knelt down to inspect the little spot of color. "You're a flower!"

Sally was delighted. She didn't have the time or resources to grow flowers on her own and the wildflowers never bloomed near her home.

"Hope," she told the little flower fondly as she gently ran the back of her thumb over the tiny little bud. "You are my hope, little one."

"Oh you're blue," she said in delight the next morning.

"My how big you've grown," she sighed the following.

"I can't wait until you bloom," she confided the next still.

Then, seven days after the bud appeared, Sally came out one morning to find the flower had finally bloomed. She dropped the bucket of chicken feed in surprise, carelessly letting the feed scatter across the ground as she raced off in excitement, coming to her knees beside the flower to stare down in wonder. The flower must have blossomed overnight, the bud bursting open to reveal five beautiful petals, all the same ocean blue as the bud was, a thin line of green running down the center of each one. And in the center, curled up tightly was—

Sally blinked, her mouth falling open as she stared in shock.

"Oh!" She couldn't help but exclaim.

The little creature inside her flower twitched, turning over to blink up at the woman. It was . . . well, it looked exactly like a human child, diminutive size notwithstanding. The minuscule child stared up at her before his tiny face broke into a wide smile.

"Mom," he declared, reaching up towards her.

"Mom?" Sally repeated shakenly but, without even thinking, she held her hand out and the impossibly small child happily climbed into it, making vague voices of joy.

"Mom!" The child repeated, plopping down in the palm of her hand and smiling up at her as though she were the most amazing thing in the entire world.

It shall bring to you what you desire. Sally giggled a little, a slightly hysterical sound that she hastily swallowed back. She didn't know she desired an impossibly small child but, as the thought came to her, she examined the little being in her hand.

The child sat with his knees pulled to his chest, head tilted up towards her. He was a cute little thing, who appeared, once more his size notwithstanding, to probably be around twelve. He had a little mop of pitch black hair that fell messily around his face but what struck Sally the most were his eyes. They were large, well large in comparison with his face because combined they were probably still smaller than the nail on her pinky. But oh were they bright, full of life and love and laughter in that beautiful emerald color that blessed his irises.

"Mom?" He repeated, his smile faltering as his eyes grew fearful.

"I'm sorry, sweetheart," Sally said, her throat constricting, "Oh I'm just so happy to finally meet you."

Her son smiled again, visibly relaxing. "Oh! I'm sorry, I didn't mean to keep you waiting! I'm happy to see you too!"

And with that he launched himself forward and threw his little arms around her thumb, hugging it tight. Sally gave a watery laugh, cradling the hand close as she hiccupped and cried.

"Oh, Mom don't cry!" The beautiful, little voice objected.

Sally laughed, leaning down to kiss the little head the best she could and she knew in that moment that the Grey Sisters were right; the flower gave her exactly what she desired. It didn't matter that her son was tiny or born from a flower instead of her own womb—he was hers and Sally Jackson loved him more than she ever knew was possible.

Sally named her son Perseus, after the vague recollection of a story she once heard about a great hero but, after a week or so, as he tripped over the name and learned more about this strange new world of his, he declared he'd rather be called Percy.

"Of course dear," Sally indulged and so Percy he was called.

Learning to live with Percy was a new and exciting experience. Sally was used to living on her own after all. Percy greeted each day with excitement and enthusiasm, a sweet and innocent wonder that made Sally feel younger and happier with every passing day. And then, of course, there was Percy's unique size to consider. If Percy thought there was anything odd about how he was barely larger than his mother's thumb, he never said. Then again, he didn't know anything else existed to compare it to, Sally mused, so perhaps it was only strange to her.

In the end, it didn't matter. Sally had Percy now and she couldn't be any happier.

"Ah, I can't believe it's almost your birthday," Sally said wistfully, stirring their breakfast with one hand as she gazed lovingly out the kitchen window where, just barely in sight, Percy's flower could be found.

Percy, perched happily on his mother's shoulder as he swung his feet back and forth, always careful not to accidently hit Sally's collarbone (because doing that hurt a lot but it was mostly okay because it only hurt him and not his mom) craned his head to try and catch a glimpse of the place he was born.

"Yeah," Percy automatically agreed then frowned as he swiveled his head up, "I'll be thirteen right?"

"Well, more or less," Sally agreed. "Watch it, dear, I'm going to reach."

Percy appropriately braced himself, reaching out to grab onto the little pieces of fabric Sally sewed onto her shirt for exactly this purpose as Sally reached her arm out to grab their bowls.

"Why did I start at twelve and not at zero?" Percy asked for what had to be the hundredth time.

"Because you're special," came the even and ever faithful response as she gently picked his bowl up on the tip of her finger before moving her hand back to offer it to him.

Percy took it with both hands, wrinkling his nose. "Special's just a nice way of saying weird," he grumbled as he shuffled his bowl around.

It was a nice bowl, one he made himself. Of course, there wasn't exactly anybody else around to make it for him. Mom tried, especially in the beginning, but her hands were just too large and the work so fine. When it was obvious that wasn't going to work, she taught Percy how to weave. He watched her as she wove her large pieces together and tried to mimic her actions with pieces of grass he plucked from the ground. Several horrible attempts and a few temper tantrums later, he had a working set of dishware that he was insanely proud of.

Hey, it was cool okay? He made them.

"Special's a nice way of saying special," Sally nonsensically replied, reaching her bare hand up.

Percy, knowing what she wanted, scrambled to his feet, untying the loose string from his mother's shirt from around his waist and jumped onto her outstretched hand. He landed with an 'uff' and barely managed to keep himself upright, trying to play it cool and keep his face straight like he didn't just almost face plant into his mom's ring finger.

Sally smiled warmly down at him and Percy felt his dark mood all but evaporate. It was impossible to be anything other than happy when his mom was smiling.

"Do you remember the story of the Grey Sisters and the seed?" Sally asked warmly and Percy groaned, sitting in the palm of her hand.

"Yes," Percy groaned, burying his face in his hands. "You've only told it like a thousand times."

"And I'll tell it a thousand more if it means getting you to understand what an amazing miracle you are," Sally said fondly. "Now, I have to go feed the chicken before she gets angry. Do you want to start breakfast?"

"No I'll wait," Percy said and Sally lowered him towards the counter. Percy hopped off her hand, being sure to tuck his bowl away in a careful resting place as Sally put a cover on their oats.

"I'll be right back," Sally said, kissing her forefinger before holding it out to Percy.

"I'll be right here," Percy dutifully replied, letting her press the kissed finger against his cheek and pretending like he didn't lean into the gesture.

Sally probably noticed anyway but she said nothing, smiling gently down at her son before gathering her apron together and heading out the door. Percy scampered up the windowsill, grunting with the effort it took to jump high enough to grab on and then the strength it took to pull himself up. He was panting by the time he collapsed onto the windowsill, leaning against the edge of the wall just in time to watch Sally disappear around the corner of the house. Percy slumped further in his spot, sighing loudly. It always seemed to take her forever to feed the chicken and no that wasn't the boredom talking.

Percy forced himself to his feet, looking around the giant kitchen. He stared at the bubbling pot of oats beneath him, careful not to lean too far over least he accidently fall in. That happened once before; it wasn't fun. It burned and oh there was just so many oats and he thought he was going to drown before Sally scooped him out. He shuddered at the memory, grimacing to himself as he shook his head and took a step backward.

"Whoa!" Percy exclaimed in surprise, arms windmilling as he slipped on the dew that gathered at the edge of the window.

He tried to reach for something to grab on to but it didn't matter because he was falling, the world tilting sickeningly as the kitchen was replacing with the sky and the sky spun and suddenly all he saw was green and then—

"Ow!" Percy complained, tucking himself tightly into a ball as if it would somehow retroactively protective him from the fall.

"Ow," he repeated, shaking his head and staring blankly at the dirt beneath his nose. He peeked up, turning to gawk at the broken branches of the bush above him and, above them, the window.

"Oh that could've been bad," Percy thought out loud, wincing as he uncurled himself. "It's a good thing those bushes helped break my fall."

He flexed his right arm, which was a little stiff around the elbow but otherwise seemingly uninjured, and then proceeded to take careful stock of the rest of his limbs, muttering to himself all the while, "Oh Mom's gonna be so mad at me, she's always telling me to be careful, gotta get back up there before she—"

A rustling sound caused his head to snap up, body tensing as he looked around. As his eyes warily panned across his surrounds, a lurch in the shadow caught his attention and he jerked around, not quite fast enough and hey—!

"Get off of me!" Percy exclaimed, violently thrashing as a heavy body settled on top his own. "Hey!"

"What is this?" The creature croaked and Percy found himself scowling up at a large, ugly toad.

The toad was almost twice his size, quite squat around the middle where its gross bump-covered skin bulged out at. Dark browns and greens camouflaged its body and around the eyes, little rings of black could be found. Its bottom jaw puffed out as it tilting its head to survey him.

"What kind of creature are you?" The toad asked in confusion.

Percy scowled harder at the irritating amphibian. "Not food, now get off of me before I, hey—"

The toad butted its nose against his chest, cutting his words off. "Very pretty," the toad mused. "It is very pretty and lively."

"Hey now!" He exclaimed angrily, not sure what the toad was getting at.

"It will make a good match for my children," the toad decided, blinking its eyes before opening its mouth wide and clamping down on his arm.

"No, hey, let me go!" Percy objected, twisting violently around and almost able to wrench his arm free from the slippery, toothless grip when the toad jerked him to the side, tossing him aside.

Percy only had a moment of relief before he collided with a rock and everything went dark.

When he woke up again it was to the sound of strange, croaking voices;

"What is it, Mom?"

A low gurgle and then—"I don't know, but it's very pretty and rather small. It probably won't eat much, just a couple snails or flies."

Snails and flies? Ew, Percy thought, prying his eyes open and groaning. His head hurt awfully, like he banged it against Sally's collarbone or worse, the edge of the windowsill. He rubbed his forehead with one hand, trying to make everything stop hurting so much and maybe he would open his eyes and everything would make sense, Sally would laugh and smile, it would be okay—

Three big ugly toads blinked down at him.

Percy blinked back.

Then he exclaimed, "Ahh!" and tried to back away as quickly as he could. His back hit something squishy and soft and his head whipped around, staring at the small, dark place he was in. He backed into something spongy and green, leaning on it made water drain out so he yelped and pulled away, frantically looking around the space.

It was a cave of some sort, or a shallow, or something underground-ish.

"Where am I? Who are you?" Percy demanded, proud of how little his voice shook as he glared at the three toads. He recognized the middle one as the toad that attacked him at the house and tried to give it his best stink eye.

"You're at your new home," the middle toad croaked, "I am Leto, these are my children Apollo and Artemis."

The other two toads were lighter in coloring than their mother. At the introduction, the left most toad grinned, puffing its chest up. This one was an almost golden brown with a large yellow spot between its eyes. The other one, on the right, eyed Percy almost disinterestedly, practically identical to their sibling except the large spot between this one's eyes was silver.

"I'm Apollo!" The yellow spotted toad announced. "The boring one is my sister Artemis."

Artemis huffed, not looking amused.

Percy ignored them, gaping at the mother instead. "What do you mean my new home? I have a home! A perfectly good home! And I have my own mom, who is probably worried sick—"

"New home," Leto repeated, speaking over him. "Until one of my children builds their own home, then that will be your new, new home. Now go ahead you two, which one of you would like it?"

"I'm never getting married," Artemis declared venomously, turning to the side and giving an indignant sort of croak. "Ever. Apollo can marry it, whatever it is."

"What do you mean whatever it is?" Percy repeated, insulted. "Can't you see I'm a boy?"

Then her words hit him and he gasped, recoiling as he stared at the remaining two toads in horror, "Marriage? I don't want to get married! I'm not even thirteen!"

"I've never heard of a boy before. But thirteen?" Leto repeated, "hm, it's older than I thought. Still, very pretty. Do you want to marry it Apollo?"

Apollo blinked his golden eyes down at Percy, who squawked indignantly. "It's not a toad," he said slowly.

"No it's a boy, whatever that is," Leto agreed. "But it will make your home beautiful and be there for you when you return from hunting and maybe tell you a story or two."

"I would trash your home, run away every chance I get and maybe give you a punch or two," Percy venomously countered, stomping his feet. "I'm not marrying anybody! I'm going home to my mom!"

"It's very pretty," Apollo mused. "And something that will appreciate my poetry."

"Not even the deaf appreciate your poetry," Artemis snidely grumbled.

"Mom! Did you hear that? I told you she's always being mean to me!"

"Mom, have you heard his poetry? Why must we have to suffer through that?"

The toads dissolved into bickering and croaking as Percy watched with wide eyes. They didn't seem to be paying him much mind anymore so he took a step to the side. Nobody noticed so he took another, and then, when nobody tried to stop him, sprinted to the end of the tunnel.

"Ah!" Percy cried, backpedaling as he reached the end and the ground suddenly stopped.

He was up some place high and below the mouth of the cave was a fierce, roaring river. Percy gaped in horror. He'd never seen a river before. Sure, Sally told him about them but the most water he'd ever seen was the water that his mother used to clean and water the plants with. He didn't even know this much water existed. Maybe it was actually an ocean, he thought, staring out with wide eyes. It certainly seemed big enough. Behind him, the toads were still arguing.

"Okay, okay," Percy said to himself, looking frantically around. "I can't swim soooo . . . I'll climb out. Yeah, that's a good plan."

Perfect. Now all he needed was something to climb out with. Percy looked around. Aside from the three bickering toads, there wasn't much else in the cave. Some of the spongy green stuff, dirt, the wings of various insects that he pretended not to notice. Nothing useful though. Percy walked out to the edge of the cave again, gingering feeling around the edge for grass or roots or anything that he could use.

The dirt at the edge of the cave was practically black, fully saturated with water from the torrent below. Percy took a step forward, wincing as little clumps of dirt crumbled away and plumped into the river below. Yikes. Trying to distribute his weight carefully, Percy crept along the mouth of the cave. Maybe there was grass growing just outside the cave he could grab onto. He put his right foot forward, leaning into the motion and—

"Oh be careful."

Percy jerked himself backward in alarm, in part due to the fact that the ground beneath his feet was disintegrating away and threatening to plummet him into the wild river below and in part due to the sudden voice that called from the sky. He automatically crouched low, tensing as something large and bright fluttering before him. He blinked in surprise as he got his first, real good look at the creature.

It was a butterfly, a big, beautiful butterfly. Her wings were great and impressive, a stunning marble of every color imaginable in gorgeous swirling patterns as they strongly fluttered in the wind.

"Are you lost, little one?" The butterfly asked fretfully, drawing closer to the edge of the cave.

"Yes," Percy stressed then shook his head, throwing a looking over his shoulder. "Well I mean—these crazy toads kidnapped me and they want to marry me. I need to get home to my mom."

"Oh dear," the butterfly worried, sounding awfully kind and sweet and it reminded Percy a little of his mother. "Yes I understand dear one, you do not wish to marry these ugly toads."

"I do not wish to marry anybody," Percy huffed, "I'm not yet thirteen." Then, staring up with hopeful eyes, asked, "Do you think you could get me a piece of grass or something to use as a rope?"

"Dear one I can do you one better, here stand back," the butterfly instructed and Percy scrambled back.

The beautiful butterfly gave one pump of her great wings and landed softly on the outskirt of the cave.

"Climb onto my back, sweet one, and I shall carry you somewhere safe," she promised.

"Really? Oh, that'd be awesome," Percy said, "Thanks!"

He lurked forward and the butterfly lowered herself to the ground, lying flat. Trying to be gentle and careful of her wings, Percy climbed onto her back, gingerly situating his legs around her wings.

"Hey, what should I call you?" The yellow spotted toad, Apollo, called suddenly, turning around to shout down at Percy. He froze as he realized what was happening, croaking in surprise.

"Gone!" Percy gleefully shouted back, sticking out his tongue for extra (if slightly childish) effect. With that announcement, his carrier spread her wings and nimbly took to the sky, her passenger whooping with joy.

"Hey wait, my boy!" Apollo cried in distress, his gross croaking growing weaker and weaker as they soared away. "Mom, my boy!"

"Come back!"

Percy threw his head back and laughed, watching as the toads faded from sight as his kind butterfly glided on the breeze, carrying them further and further away from the mean amphibians.

"I'm Percy, by the way," Percy introduced, leaning forward to properly greet his rescuer.

"I'm Psyche," came the melodious reply. "And most happy to be of service little one. Now, let's get you home to your mother. I image she is quite worried."

Percy frowned, squirming a little at the uncomfortable thought. He hated it when Sally worried. "Yeah, she will be."

"Where is home, Percy?"

"It's—" Percy said, only to falter, unsure.

Where was home? He knew home was a giant house, with four giant rooms and a field he couldn't even walk across in a day. Home had a blue flower and the chicken coop for one, but where was home? Percy wasn't sure how to answer that. He'd never been farther than the chicken coop before, and that was only when Sally carried him.

"It's a house," Percy said. "A big house, with a chicken coop and a blue flower. My mom and I live there alone. I've . . . I've never left there before. I don't know where I am."

Percy looked around with a frown. Psyche cruised over the river and, peering down at it, Percy marveled at the giant expansive of rushing water. There was so much of it, he thought in wonder. And the trees around them. He knew there was a forest just beyond the house, he could see them after all, but he didn't know how many trees there really were.

It would be real cool, Percy thought, to explore it all. So many new things to see! He shook his head, pushing the thought away. Some other time, Sally had to be worried sick about now. He needed to make sure his mom was okay before he went on any adventures. Maybe she could go with him, that sounded fun.

"That's not much to go on," Psyche mused. "But Leto couldn't have carried you far. Toads never stray too far from their homes, especially Leto, who worries so about her children. I'm sure we can find your home and your mom."

"That sounds good," Percy agreed, nodding even though Psyche couldn't see it.

"Do you have a mom?" Percy asked, curiosity getting the better of him. He didn't know much about butterflies. He would often see them visit his flower but they never stuck around for long and he could never remember actually talking to one before.

"I'm sure I do, somewhere," Psyche said as they glided over the river, little sprays of water brushing against Percy's face. "But I don't know her. She laid me and my siblings on the underbelly of a leaf and when I hatched, that was it. We're not close-knit, us butterflies. It's rather hard after all. We can't fly when we're babies."

"You can't?"

"No. Baby butterfly are called caterpillars and we—"

Psyche went on to explain how she was born (it was a nice tree, Psyche remembered, large and beautiful but the leaf she hatched on was the best in the whole forest). She had lots of siblings so she had to move out pretty quick and find her own spot. Caterpillars needed lots of food to form their chrysalis, whatever that was.

"Oh, that's neat," Percy said, nodding along even though the butterfly couldn't see it. "I was born in a flower."

"A flower?"

"Yeah, my mom said when my flower bloomed there I was, curled up in the middle."

"How peculiar, I didn't know that's how boys were born," the butterfly mused. "Hold on dear, branches ahead."

Percy leaned forward and held on tight as Psyche elegantly dipped low to fly between two branches that hung low over the river.

"I suppose I rather thoughts boys—" Psyche said when suddenly they lurched to a stop, the butterfly's words cutting off sharply with a cry.

Percy found himself being thrown from the butterfly's back and he didn't have the time to understand what was happening before he was floundering in the air, desperately trying to grab onto something as he tumbled towards the water below, and oh the bottom branch! He managed to catch himself on a twig of the branch, the impact knocking the air clean out of his lung as he crashed into it. Winded, black spots dancing before his eyes, Percy clung on, dazed.

"Psyche?" He finally managed to call, breathlessly, "Psyche?"

"Percy? Oh dear little one, pull yourself up."

"Right, right," Percy gasped, a little more focused on getting oxygen at the moment. He took a deep breath, then another, shaking his head as he tried to focus.

The river roared below him, a rather terrifying incentive to pull himself up from where he dangled listlessly. His legs kicked uselessly in the air, arms wound tightly around the twig, the only thing keeping him from falling.

"Alright, alright," Percy muttered, more to himself than his worried companion. He tightened his arms and started to pull himself up.

"Oh boy, oh god," he groaned, arms trembling from the effort as he hauled himself up, legs kicking vainly in the air as he pulled. Inch by painful inch, shoulders screaming in pain, he forced his body upwards. His upper body felt like it was on fire, muscles trembling as he huffed and puffed.

"I got it, I got it," he panted, daring to reach one arm out to claw at the bark.

He got a good grip and grabbed on tight, pulling himself the rest of the way up, finally getting leverage with his feet so his whole body was safely on the branch. He collapsed onto the rough bark, gasping and trembling from the exertion.

"I'm okay," he called, turning onto his stomach and taking another deep, calming breath. Oh geez, he thought, blanching slightly as he stared at the rushing water just below. Wow, that was a close call. All that water right below him, he certainly would have drowned if he fell in.

"You okay Psyche?" He called, letting his head fall on the branch as he tried to calm his racing heart and relax his overtaxed muscles. His shoulders burned angrily but he valiantly ignored them.

"I'm afraid not dear."

Percy frowned and, with a grunt of exertion and pain, flipped himself over to search for the butterfly. He didn't have to search for long; Psyche was suspended above his head, her beautiful wings twisted up in—Percy gasped in horror—a spider's web.

The web was gigantic, easily spanning across the river. The webbing was thick and gross, little globs of sticky whatever shimmering in the sunlight. The stuff had completely wrapped around poor Psyche's beautiful but delicate wings, holding the butterfly fast in its terrible web. Psyche thrashed around, causing little strands of the web to tear lose.

"I'm caught pretty good, little one," the butterfly called and despite her best effort, her voice betrayed her anxiety. "The spider that built this web shan't be far behind."

"It's okay, we can get you free," Percy said quickly, scrambling to his feet, sore muscles ignored in favor of concern for his new friend, as his eyes frantically scanned the edge of the web. He couldn't see the spider and one didn't come running out at Psyche's arrival so that was good.

"Don't worry Psyche I'm coming up!" Percy called, running along the edge of the branch.

"Be careful dear, I'll keep trying to tear free. I'm just afraid of falling, because my wings are caught and . . ."

Percy looked down at the rushing water below. If Psyche tore herself free from the web but her wings were still tied together she wouldn't be able to fly and she'd drown.

"Okay, don't worry, I'm coming," Percy promised.

He ran down to the edge of the branch where the end melded into the tree trunk. It took a while to run the entire length and he could barely hear Psyche when he reached it. He paused at the end, gasping as he hunched over, leaning against the rough bark of the tree to catch his breath. Oh god were his muscles ever going to ache in the morning.

Need something sharp, Percy thought, frantically looking around. Something to cut Psyche's wings free with before getting her out of the web. He reached forward and dug his fingers into the bark of the tree.

"Ow," he muttered as he clutched the bark, the sharp edges slicing his fingers open but Percy didn't care, having bigger worries on his mind.

Wait a minute, he thought, flexing the injured finger. That was exactly what he needed. He wiggled his fingers until they were completely under a loose piece of bark, curling them as far under as he could before wrenching the piece away. The bark broke off in his hand, the edge jagged. Percy experimentally ran his finger over it. Would that be tough enough to cut Psyche free? He hoped so. Tucking the bark safely away under his shirt, Percy glanced back out at the web. Psyche had stopped struggling, one of her wings tore free from the webbing but still tightly bound. She would be in serious danger of falling if she moved anymore.

"I'm coming Psyche!" Percy shouted.

He eyed the distance between himself and the next branch on the tree. It was almost twice his own height.

"I'm coming Psyche," Percy repeated determinedly to himself, throwing his arms around the tree and searching for any sort of grip to pull himself up with.

It was slow work climbing up to the next branch. He had to tear bark away, letting the pieces float down to the forest floor as he gouged out spots for his hands and feet. He slipped once, falling back down to the first branch with an 'hmph' and a subsequently bruised posterior but he immediately scrambled back to his feet and started again. Psyche was counting on him. She saved him, now he had to save her. He was panting and perspiring heavily by the time his jelly arms pulled him onto the higher branch. His entire body ached from the exertion of the day. He blew out a long breath, giving himself a quick second to catch his breath as he patted himself down for the bark-knife. Oh good, he still had it.

"Almost there," Percy shouted, his voice coming out a little breathless.

The spider web anchored itself to this branch. Percy approached the sticky mess, eyeing it cautiously as he crept closer. There weren't many spider webs around at home. Sally kept an eagle eye out for such hazards, always watchful and careful of her son's diminutive size. Percy put his foot on one of the strands. The web trembled, the line buzzing from the place Percy put pressure on all the way to the end. In the distance Psyche bobbed. Percy winced.

Careful, he reminded himself, scowling, he had to be careful. Percy put his full weight on the strand. When nothing more happened then a trembling spider web, he took a step forward.

He waited with bated breath, eyes wide. The web vibrated but held his weight. Of course, it'll hold your weight, Percy scolded himself as he took another ginger step forward. It held Psyche's weight and could withstand the fierce wind of the river. Percy weighed nothing compared to that. Careful to keep his arms and knees away from the sticky strands, Percy began to walk across the web.

"Be careful," Psyche whispered, her voice barely carrying on the breeze.

"I got it," Percy whispered back.

They said nothing more as he crept along the web, one slow step at a time. The web was shaking violently at this point and each tremor had Percy wincing, knowing the spider had to be around somewhere and heading right for them.

Maybe it has other webs to tend to, Percy thought desperately. Or it fell into the river.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, Percy reached Psyche's side. He smiled bravely at the butterfly, who blew out a soft breath.

"Alright," Percy whispered, staring at her web-encased wings. "How should I do this?"

"See the wing that is almost loose from the web?" Psyche whispered back, "Get all the webbing off it first."

"Got it, good plan," Percy hissed, pulling out his bark-knife.

Making sure to take great care, Percy began to saw away at the sticky stuff encasing her right most wing. The stuff stuck to his fingers, threatening to glue them together and Percy frequently had to stop, cursing under his breath, to use the knife to cut his own fingers free.

"Aha!" Percy exclaimed victoriously, sweat dripping down his arms and muscles aching but grinning victoriously. "One wing free!"

"Thank you, thank you," Psyche whispered feverously. "The next one now and we can go find your mom."

"Got it," Percy said, grinning broadly, his chest puffed up with pride. He shuffled around, maneuvering around the butterfly to reach her other wing.

His head was bowed, sawing away at Psyche's bonds when he heard it. At first, he thought it was the breeze, a light little hiss drawing across the strings of the web, but then Psyche gasped in horror and he looked up.

"The spider!" Psyche gasped in despair.

At the edge of the web, where Percy started out at what felt like a forever ago, was a large black body rapidly crawling towards them, cackling and hissing all the while.

"What have we here, what have we here, a butterfly for me?" The spider sang as its eight legs propelled it forward with frightening speed.

"Go Percy, go, hurry!" Psyche cried. "You can't save me, it's too late, run little one, go find your mom."

Percy's mind froze, staring at the horrifying spider in dismay. Psyche frantically urged him to run, to get away while he still could but he couldn't leave her. Percy's eyes flickered down to the branch below them, the one he had fallen on when he was thrown from Psyche's back, and he had an idea.

"Psyche, see that branch below?" Percy demanded urgently, sawing feverously away at her bonds as the spider sang her terrible song and drew closer.

"Yes, yes jump down there."

"I'm going to cut your wing loose," Percy pressed urgently, "do you think you could fall onto that branch?"

"I—I," the butterfly fluttered beneath him. "Yes, yes I could do that Percy, that's a great idea, hurry, hurry little one."

Percy cut through the last layer of the web and Psyche fell loose from its bond, her one freed wing beating frantically as she spiraled down. Percy didn't have the time to watch, to make sure she made it, oh please make it, oh please—he tensing his legs, jumping, but he never made it.

"Ah!" Percy cried as something sticky thwacked against his back, jerking him backward out of his leap. Percy collided heavily with the web, his arms and legs becoming entangled as he unconsciously struggled against the attack.

"Psyche!" He cried in distress but black was all he saw.

Heart hammering in his chest, Percy stared at the great spider that grinning evilly down at him, all eight eyes sparkling with hunger and dark humor.

"Well, well, well what do we have here?" The spider hissed in delight, its terrible mouth opening and revealing two long, dangerously glistening fangs.

A/n Obscure fairy tale anyone? Or should I say, well-known fairy tale in the fairy tale world that nobody else knows about because Disney didn't make a movie about it? Would you believe this is the third fairy tale by Hans Christian Andersen I've done? (He's my favorite, sorry Grimm's Brothers)

What is my scale for this you may ask? (Or is that something only I worry about?) Well, Percy's roughly the size of the average person's thumb so more or less 2.75 inches (between 7 and 7.5 cm). The largest butterfly in the world can get up to 25 cm, so a thumb-size person could definitely fit on their back and even some of the smaller large butterflies could hold him. Spider webs do catch butterflies but they generally don't leave the butterfly alone for as long as I did here because of the destruction their wings cause to the web. They either cut them lose or eat the poor critter. I pled creative license for my embellishment.

Anyway, hope you enjoyed part one and let me know what you think! ~ *