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.
Chapter 10: Outcasts
"Taking a cue from the richest of kings, they developed a taste for acquiring things. But the one taste that made giants lose all control, was the taste of human blood, bones, and all."
The little princess made a face. "That's revolting," she said, wrinkling her nose.
Her mother smiled gently at her, amusement dancing in her eyes as she turned the page. "Too scary?"
Propped up by a mountain of pillows, the Queen and her daughter cuddled together. It was bedtime, and bedtime was the best time because that was when the little princess got to hear her Mama tell a story. The princess loved stories, but she liked one story best of all.
Outside the windows, thunder rumbled. A late October storm was blowing in, a rare event that she'd overheard Father say would cause trouble for the farmers by drowning any harvest they hadn't got in yet. He'd looked so worried before he'd kissed her goodnight, telling her not to be afraid of the thunder because the storm was still very far away. Only now as she lay snug in her bed listening to her mother chant Fee Fye Foe Fumm, the little princess couldn't stop herself from imagining that the peals of distant thunder were actually footsteps. Footsteps that shook the ground...and were coming closer.
"Giants aren't scary," she said in a huff. It was a tiny lie, but if Mama knew the truth she might stop reading, and that was the last thing the little princess wanted.
Mama smiled down at her. Leaning over so that the book was right in front of her daughter's nose, the Queen pointed to a picture. "Not even their terrifying leader, a monstrous giant with two heads?"
The little princess followed her mother's finger...and her brown eyes grew wide as saucers. For there on the page was a crude illustration of a giant - or two giants. Two giants that were stuck together on a single body twice as big as the other giants milling about in the background. Covered in gray steel armor, the monster stood at the head of a vast army, raising a fist to the stormy, lightning-streaked sky. The heads of the monster were mismatched, with one being larger than the other. And while the smaller head looked disfigured, with a froglike mouth and eyes that looked ready to pop out of their sockets, the larger head could almost pass for human -if it weren't for the darkness around its eyes and the cruel, knife-sharp angles of its face.
But what really frightened the princess was that in its raised fist, the giant held a wriggling human form...and the large head was thrown back, with its mouth open wide.
The little princess shivered, but hid it by snuggling deeper into the thick blankets. "It's only a story."
"It's only a story," Isabelle mumbled, echoing the last words of her dream-self before wakefulness snatched them away. She moved, sluggishly at first, her mind almost begging to be pulled back into the safety of her dream-bedroom full of warm, loving light. Mama didn't finish the story. The complaint flitted half-formed through her head before she registered the cold hardness pressing into her back. Sighing, the princess threw off the sweet memories of sleep and prepared to face reality.
The first thing she noticed was how deep the silence felt. Only the occasional plink of dripping water echoed in the cavernous space around her. The whole cave, from the enormous boulders down to the tiniest pebble, felt still and undisturbed. A nervous cough escaped Isabelle as she propped herself up on her elbows. If there was one thing she knew with certainty about her two-headed giant companion, it was that he was never quiet. Every move Fallon made in this confined underground world caused some sort of damage, whether he was smashing boulders in an angry fit or simply making himself more comfortable. He was like an infant crammed into a basket that was too small; the cave could barely hold him. Even when Fallon slept, his snores shivered the air and rattled any loose stones by his feet. When both heads were sleeping, the racket doubled in volume, making such a din that if Isabelle wasn't nearly dead from exhaustion at the end of each day she'd never be able to sleep through it all. That she wasn't hearing so much as a snort from either one of him now told Isabelle something was wrong.
She strained her eyes, trying to pick out the lumpy shape of the giant amidst the smudged outlines of rock pillars and boulders. The faint, green-tinged phosphorous given off by the moss was barely enough light to see her own hand. "Fallon?" Her small, shaky voice was caught by the cave walls and bounced back to her, multiplied into a dozen fading echoes.
Cautiously, Isabelle inched forward along the rough stone. She stretched out a hand, feeling her way like a blind woman...
...and snatched it back when her fingertips brushed empty air. Reflex took over, forcing her eyes to focus. Shadows took on sharp contours, and Isabelle gasped. Only an inch of solid stone remained before her. Venture any further and she would plunge straight down into a dark, airy void and shatter her bones on jagged rocks streaked with flickering moss, giving them the appearance of glowing green teeth. A panicked cry escaped her as the princess scrambled backwards, not stopping until her back pressed firmly into the point where the ledge melded with the rockface.
Breathing hard, Isabelle silently cursed the giant for forcing her to sleep on a narrow stone shelf every night. She'd guessed the arrangement was meant to keep her from attempting escape. Fallon had every reason to expect it from her when she'd first woken up in his lair, terrified and desperate. Though now that the icy mood between them seemed to finally be thawing, she felt a little annoyed that he still thought trapping her was a necessary precaution. Sighing, she supposed it was too much to hope for the giant to change all his bad habits. Trust didn't seem to come easily to his kind.
Strange that I don't even remember how I got back up here, she thought ruefully. He must've put me here after I'd fallen asleep.
Her last conversation with Fallon felt like a dream now. Heat flooded her face when she thought of how she'd fallen apart before him, leaving her feeling grateful for the darkness hiding her now. Babbling like a child, confessing her sins to a monster; she'd acted like a fool. You had a rough day, she tried telling herself, but the voice of self-recrimination - the voice that spoke with the snide, arrogant tone of Lord Roderick - wouldn't let up. You were lucky the beast didn't flay you for showing such weakness. Chill, damp rock pressed into her back, snaking frost-tipped fingers through her tattered dress. Truly, she would've been a sight in court now, with her finest gold gown ripped and torn, her hair a disheveled brown mess, and her skin sporting a collection of oddly shaped bruises that ranged in color from faded green to dark, angry purple. Frustrated, she opened her mouth to call for help again when a cramp rippled through her abdomen, a reminder from her much-neglected stomach that she was hungry too. Gasping, she bent over while pressing her palms flat against her belly, riding out the waves of pain, feeling thoroughly miserable and alone.
When it was over, Isabelle slumped down onto her bed of stone, curled her hands into a pillow for her head, and tried to go back to sleep. As soon as she'd shut her eyes a memory of being inside Fallon's mouth flashed before her like a burning arrow, and was quickly caught and extinguished. Pinned by the meaty weight of his tongue, nearly drowsing in his spittle; it had been the single most disgusting experience of her life.
He did it to save me. The idea sounded ridiculous, but if she could believe the giant, then it was true. Why he'd done it still baffled her, especially since he'd seemed so keen on eating her in the past. And if the taste of anything human made giants lose all control, then it must've taken a king's ransom of self-discipline for the monster not to have started munching the second he'd gotten her in his jaws. Self-control wasn't something she'd believed Fallon to possess, not in large quantities at least.
Uneasy thoughts drifted like fog through her mind, pulling her down into a murky half-sleep, when the clatter of stones scraping together jolted her awake. Raising her head slightly, she watched the chink of light around the boulder widen as huge hands rolled the makeshift door aside. A cold breeze freshened the cave's stale, dust filled atmosphere, studding Isabelle's skin with goosebumps. Her breath caught at the sight of the massive figure standing at the cave's mouth, silhouetted by beams of late-afternoon sunlight. The giant had returned.
Isabelle swallowed, fighting down the urge to hide. Giants aren't scary. The words of her six-year old self seemed unbelievably stupid now after she'd come face to face with real giants. They were scary, especially Fallon, and the princess wasn't sure if she'd ever feel wholly safe around him. Sitting up, Isabelle scooted until her back was once more pressing against solid rock, giving her small comfort. Her dress pooled around her legs and she crossed her arms over her chest, watching with mingled fascination and fear as the behemoth make his entrance.
The light from outside was sharp, but she could clearly see the giant stoop to avoid knocking his heads against a cluster of overhanging stalactites. He'd recovered his armor - she saw the glint of steel on his chest and arms - and something dangled in his right fist. When he stepped out of the light, the princess studied the expressions on both of Fallon's strange faces, trying to guess his mood. The pair wore identical smug grins, their flabby lips appeared stained with something disturbingly dark. After pausing for a moment to sniff the air, Fallon's steel-gray eyes fastened on her. "At last, she awakens," he grunted, making his way toward her perch. Isabelle fought down the urge to cringe as his thumping footsteps came closer.
Gathering all the courage she could find, Isabelle asked, "Where have you been?" She sounded small. She felt small as the giant gazed down at her.
"Hunting." The small head tried to mimic the word, instead producing only a bubbly, half-strangled sound, Fallon rolled his broad shoulders, jostling the little creature so that its wide eyes bounced in their sockets. Loose skin around its eyes and mouth wrinkled as the smaller head gave its larger counterpart the evilest of looks, which was wholly ignored. Fallon's mouth opened slightly and his tongue slid out to lick at the dark substance coating his lips. Isabelle could only stare, feeling like a mouse hypnotized by a snake. "We wanted to bring you dragon meat, but this is just as tasty."
His right fist came up, and Isabelle saw its fingers were curled around the neck of a large, brown sack. The giant tipped the sack into his left hand. Something fell out onto his palm, and Fallon dropped that something onto the ledge before her.
Isabelle gaped at the dead boar. It was a swineherd's nightmare, a battering ram of corded muscle and thick rolls of fat wrapped in tough, bristly hide. The tusks alone were three feet of curving ivory death. A whole hunting party of armored men, trained hounds, and mounted knights might have balked at going up against this monster, yet she could tell from the circular patch of crusted blood marring the animal's chest that Fallon had simply driven a finger through its heart.
As easy as biting someone's head off. Bile splattered the back of her throat and she swallowed, trying to keep her gorge down.
"Well, go on! Eat!" Fallon wrinkled his nose. His little twin cocked its head to one side like a dog. "We thought you would be hungry." He sounded, of all things, let down by her reaction.
Isabelle stared down at the fresh carcass, then back to the giant. Did he expect her to eat it raw? One furtive look at Fallon's blood-dyed skull necklace and she had the answer: of course he did.
"I-I can't eat it like this." She clasped her hands together, trying to sound as reasonable as possible. Fallon blinked down at her, mouth set in a straight line, his expression having gone from confused to mildly irritated. The second head merely watched her with bright, curious eyes. "It has to be cooked first."
"Do we look like palace cooks to you?" Fallon's upper lip curled and a vertical crease appeared between his eyes as he glowered down at her. Isabelle lifted a hand, palm facing outward in a peacemaking gesture. The small head turned on its neck to stare at its brother with large, puppyish eyes, its lips puckered, one eyebrow raised. Without saying a word, Fallon spun around in a whirl of clanking armor and stomped away. Isabelle could only watch his retreating backside as he exited the cave, grumbling to himself like a lion disturbed from sleep.
The princess released the breath she hadn't even realized she'd been holding. From outside came brittle cracking sounds she recognized as trees being ripped up by the roots. He's angry. The thought was accompanied by a flurry of conflicted emotions: sadness, guilt, and frustration, all dancing like court jesters in her heart. Why do I even bother trying to befriend him? I'm going to be his dinner when all this is over. The ledge suddenly felt very high and lonely. Isabelle let her hair hang forward so that the loose strands partially blocked the sight of the dead boar; its glassy, dead brown eyes were not a reassuring sight.
Outside the cave, sounds of rending, splintering wood continued to fill the air while the princess sat alone. For the first time in days, she became conscious of the engagement ring on her finger, its soft weight a reminder of the world she used to live in. It felt like years since Jack had proposed to her, bending his knee outside the theater where they'd first met. That he was a commoner hadn't made a whit of difference to her and Father had felt honor bound to reward the boy who'd saved the life of his only child. Now she doubted she would ever see his sweet face again. Her heart felt leaden as she began twirling the gold band around her finger, wishing she were back at Cloister with Jack and Elmont and Father. Her living, breathing Father...
A heavy thump followed by a muttered string of indecipherable curses snapped Isabelle to attention. Fallon's shadow flowed before him as he reentered the cave, and the princess swallowed, one hand nervously going to her collarbone. Under his arms, he carried bundles of wood, their mingled scents of pine and spruce making Isabelle's nose twitch.
She stared, wondering, as the giant dropped the wood and snatched up a heavy, flat-edged stone. Holding the stone in one hand, the giant rose to his full, impressive height while letting his eyes roam until they found Isabelle crouched on her ledge. Satisfied that she was watching, Fallon brought the stone's edge down on hard ground with a crash that reverberated throughout the cave, making the princess jump halfway out of her skin. He struck again, once, twice, three times, grunting with effort until the last strike broke the gray upper crust into a lacework of white spiderweb cracks. at the center of which was a crater large enough for three men to lie down in. Biting her lip, Isabelle edged further into the shadows while never taking her eyes from the giant. What in all of Albion is he up to?
Her answer came when Fallon, having discarded his crude stone tool, gathered up the biggest pieces of wood and threw them into the crater. For a moment his back was turned, and the princess was treated to a brief glimpse of uncovered bare skin below his right shoulder. Muscles stretched and flexed from exertion. When he faced her again, Fallon held two boulders, one in each hand, hefting them as if they weighed no more than eggs.
Isabelle stared, her eyes gone wide. Her muscles were so tense they felt ready to snap. She had to know what was going on.
"What are you going to-"
With amazing force, he slammed the two boulders against each other. A red spark leapt from between them to land among the wood. Soon flames spread among the largest pieces of dry timber, eating them up hungrily.
Dropping the two now significantly dented boulders, Fallon stomped over to the cave mouth and flung his arms around the mountain-sized rock door, preparing to roll it closed. From outside came the trilling of evening birdsong, and Isabelle felt a sudden pang. She called out to the giant as he grunted and strained, pushing against the boulder that was nearly as big as he was. "I'm not going to run." A faint note of pleading was in her voice. Too much time spent in dark caves was making her truly appreciate the light.
"We know you won't, princess," Fallon said, growling the words out as he gave the boulder a mighty shove. It rolled into place, cutting off the fresh air and sinking sun. "But we need to stay hidden. We don't want a dragon catching the scent of your dinner, do we?"
"My...dinner?" Her eyes flicked from Fallon, to the lumpy shadow that was a dead boar, then to the huge crackling fire, and finally back to Fallon, who was striding toward her. She huddled on the ledge, waiting.
"You say you can't eat raw meat." He reached down, and Isabelle gasped as dry, cracked fingers closed around her. The dead boar disappeared into the palm of his other hand. "Don't know what you're missing, really." He lifted her off the ledge, and Isabelle held onto her roiling stomach as her legs dangled fifteen feet above a bone-shattering impact. Gritting her teeth, she hooked an arm around his thumb and tried to focus on the reassuring way his palm pressed against her back. With both hands full, Fallon spun around and carried the princess and the boar toward the fire. Isabelle's face grew damp from the heat. "But we can't have you turning to skin and bones so..."
Something about the way Fallon said we can't have you turning to skin and bones made her think that the meaning behind the words was we want you nice and fat when we eat you, but she hoped very much it was just his odd way of teasing. Soon the giant knelt and opened his hand, releasing her before standing back up. She took a few wobbly steps forward before plopping down at the very edge of the firepit, curling her legs in and tugging down the hem of her dress. The huge fire had dwindled somewhat since Fallon had blocked up the main exit but was still the height of a harvest bonfire. It belched forth clouds of orange-tinted smoke that drifted up among the stalactites and were sucked away by natural openings in the cave's roof.
Between the flames, she caught glimpses of Fallon as he squatted on the other side of the fire. A sitting giant was still a daunting sight - and the source of much neck pain as Isabelle found she still had to crane her neck to look up at him. Firelight danced in the eyes of his second head, rendering them bright and childlike. The gaze of his other head was entirely directed at his hands -hands that Isabelle saw between bursts of flame were cradling the boar. She caught only glimpses of what he was doing to the animal, just enough to know that he was skinning it.
Her life in the palace had never afforded her the opportunity to watch a butcher at work. Even during her short escapes into town, she'd avoided crossing paths with all the lines of goats, sheep, and cows being led to the slaughterhouse, knowing she wouldn't be able to stomach the sight of so much blood and pain. She was certain, however, that what Fallon was doing would make even the most hardened butcher flee in terror.
The giant was peeling the skin off the carcass with his fingernails the same way a fruitseller would peel a fat grape. His dexterous fingers tore off strips of thick bristled hide, exposing slick red muscle and internal organs. A detached part of her mind pondered the mystery of how his big hands could do such careful work without crushing the small animal to pulp. It helped distract her from the wet snaps and pops as he excised the bones before stuffing each one into his mouth, crunching them up while continuing his work. Soon all the human-edible bits were arranged in piles of red meat so juicy that even the princess couldn't miss the copper-sweet bloodscent hanging on the air. Then, using foot-long pieces of wood, Fallon speared the biggest chunks of meat and held them over the fire. Isabelle squirmed inside, uncomfortably reminded of the Cook making hors-d'oeuvre's out of live, squirming pigs. Then the smell of roasting pork filled her nose, and her mouth flooded with saliva.
Neither of them spoke. Around them, the cave was dappled with shifting patterns of red-golden light from the cookfire. Isabelle took her eyes off the giant long enough to watch a hanging skein of the glowing moss shrivel into white flakes from the heat, leaving behind a smell like rancid butter. Several more clumps of the strange fungus were curling up moon-pale tendrils in a futile attempt to escape the unwelcome light, a few disintegrated with little puffs. The world is changing all around me. The thought was so painfully true that the princess ducked her head, becoming momentarily mesmerized by one of her dirty kneecaps poking through a gaping tear in her dress.
She was in the middle of trying to cover the exposed skin when a chunk of sizzling-hot meat was dropped before her, so close it almost fell in her lap. From the other side of the fire, Fallon growled, "There! Now eat!"
Isabelle studied the proffered supper dubiously. Fallon's idea of cooking meat seemed to follow the simple principle of holding said meat over a fire until it got hot. Half of it was burned black, while the rest was still red, tender, and speckled with drops of pig blood. She lifted the meat in both hands, sniffed it cautiously.
"We took the trouble of preparing your meal for you. The least you could do is taste it." Fallon's voice was a bass rumble, followed by a high-pitched chirp from his twin.
He does have a point. And I'm starving. Isabelle barely tasted her first bite, caution having given way to ravenous hunger. The second bite was chewy and tasted slightly of ash, but she no longer cared. She devoured it greedily, and Fallon gave her another piece. Through the flames, she saw him reach inside a sack and pull out something white and fluffy that could only be a sheep. Together they ate in silence, the princess struggling not to wolf down her food while the giant shamelessly gobbled whole sheep and cows, giving every other bite to his second head. Soon there was nothing left between them but a few bones and a dwindling fire.
A colossal belch tore the air loud enough to wake a sleeping bat colony hiding high up in the cave's darkest recesses. Their frightened chittering filled the air while the fire sputtered. Isabelle frowned up at the two-headed monster. Both heads shared identical looks of pure innocence, though the bigger head had a single eyebrow raised. Isabelle rolled her eyes in response.
Unfazed, Fallon studied her grease-stained lips and hands. "Hungry, were you?" he asked, sounding amused. He picked up a bone and began picking his teeth with it. Isabelle wiped her mouth with the back of one hand, having decided the concept of proper table manners didn't apply here.
"Yes," she said, then added carefully, "Thank you."
The giant answered with a grunt, then stretched his arms behind his head and yawned, showing all his chipped teeth. His smaller head broke into a yawn of its own seconds later.
With the fire between them, Isabelle watched Fallon nervously. His body was a lumpy tower of glinting armor and muscle that stretched the length of the cave. His immense size made it hard for him to find a comfortable spot, and Isabelle was afraid things were going to start breaking soon.
"Were you hunting all day?" she asked. Conversing with her old tormentor felt awkward, but keeping up a semblance of normalcy helped rein in her ever-present desire to flee.
"Most of it." Stones cracked as Fallon turned onto his side. He propped up an elbow, cupping the chin of his large head in one hand while trying to stretch out his legs. A mound of fist-sized rocks tumbled over in a collision with his knee. Isabelle flinched. The giant growled.
Like a whale on dry land, Isabelle thought. She'd never seen a whale herself, but had begged to hear bits and pieces of lore about them from a castle servant who'd used to be a fisherman. Think of a beast too large to exist, he would say. So huge that the whole ocean shouldn't be enough to hold it. She clasped her hands together and fought down her amusement while Fallon tried - and failed - to get more comfortable. "Why didn't you take me with you?"
Fallon spared her a brief look that implied he thought the answer was obvious. "You were sleeping."
It was true. She'd been exhausted and he hadn't woken her. Which meant that the giant had taken her well-being into account for once. Still... part of the reason why she insisted on joining the monster in his wanderings was so she could keep an eye on him and - possibly - save any unfortunate people who might cross his path. What exactly was he up to while I wasn't watching? And where did he get the livestock? She pushed the thoughts away, deciding it might be better not to ask.
Instead, she focused her attention on the present. "What now?"
"We rest. A tired hunter catches nothing." Fallon said the words with such conviction Isabelle wondered if it was one of the Rules of the Hunt. She said nothing, but continued to keep a wary eye on the giant, who seemed to finally have found a tolerable position. Then his second head frowned and made a pitiful whining sound as its pudgy nose wrinkled. Isabelle was trying to decide if she should ask what the matter was when Fallon lifted a hand to help his twin - and promptly banged his elbow against a stalactite, which shattered into dust on impact.
"OW!" The furious bellow echoed like a thunderclap. More squeaks came from the frightened bats overhead while Isabelle removed her hands from her throbbing ears. Then the loudest sounds in the cave were Fallon's heavy breathing and Isabelle's own pounding heart. She could see Fallon's face contort in a grimace, the lips pulled back and brows drawn together. Between them, the fire sputtered as more wood burned to ash. Soon there would be no flaming barrier, no burning wall of protection, however feeble it might be, to separate Isabelle from the giant, whose enormous body lay sprawled out like a ruined castle.
Feeling more and more like a mouse locked up with an irascible cat, Isabelle began fidgeting with her engagement ring. Fallon continued muttering dark things under his breath as he reached over to scratch the nose of his second head, who thanked him by sneezing into his hand.
Growling, Fallon tore his hand away and wiped it on the ground. "I scratched your itchy nose for you, you ingrate!" What followed was the most bizarre sibling squabble Isabelle had ever seen: two heads stuck on one body, the smaller head tripping over its own tongue to form half-intelligible insults while Fallon snarled and cursed in Gantish. It occurred to the princess that now might be a good time to sneak away and find a dark corner to hide in. She began edging away from the fire, an inch at a time, and had almost made it out of the ring of light when Fallon spoke.
"You wear a betrothal ring."
Isabelle froze, sensing both pairs of giant eyes fastened on her. Looking down at her left hand, she stifled a curse of her own. The gold band shone in the firelight, cap of diamonds twinkling innocently, announcing its presence to all and sundry. She quickly covered her hand, but Fallon continued to stare down at her. His face had gone flat. Calm, but with a hint of something explosive bubbling beneath the surface.
"Ring," his second head croaked. Its eyes rolled madly, the veined whites showing starkly against the gray irises.
Hastily, Isabelle stammered a reply. "What! I-"
"We aren't fools, princess. We know what that is." Fallon grew quiet, still. A silence hung between them, an expectant silence that made Isabelle squirm. Fallon brought a hand up and pressed a finger to his chin, then slowly traced it along his jaw. His expression was unreadable. Like stone. Around them, ruddy light still played along the cave's harsh angled walls, joined by an occasional spark as the fire died its slow death.
Fallon's deep voice took on a thoughtful cast. The bone spikes on his left shoulder gleamed a sickly yellow as he leaned forward. "When that coward Roderick came to our castle, he spoke to you as though you were his betrothed." He paused, running a finger along his jaw. "But you wore no ring."
Isabelle struggled to find words, knowing Fallon expected an answer but unsure what to tell him. Her heart felt strangely hollow as she remembered her former fiancee. "I know. We-" She gulped, "We were supposed to be married."
Fallon leaned even closer, so that wisps of smoke curled around his face. "Did you want him?"
What? Warmth radiated from her skin, a blush that had nothing to do with the fire. Sand coated Isabelle's throat as she answered."No. The whole thing was my father's idea. I never cared for him."
Fallon leaned back, and Isabelle felt something tense and stormy that had been brewing in the air between them dissolve. She rubbed at her shoulders, trying to soothe the taut muscles. Strands of hair fell in her face, were swatted away irritably. The fire was down to its last log, sending up a few halfhearted flickers that didn't touch the bulky shadow of Fallon looming over her. She could sense the giant's eyes boring into her, intent and watchful. When she dared to look up at him, she almost gasped at the change. He looked happy. A spark was in his gray eyes, and the princess could've sworn she caught a flash of a smile on his face.
A smile that was almost immediately replaced by a scowl. "And we suppose now you intend to give yourself to that farmboy of yours?"
Isabelle sat up straighter. The scornful way he'd said farmboy rankled. "He saved me!" The words From you! almost tumbled out, but the princess bit them off just in time. The clenched fists and flared nostrils told her Fallon was in no mood to be reminded of the details.
"He shoved a beanstalk down my throat!" the giant shouted.
"You were going to eat him!" she shot back.
The giant appeared to grope around for something to say in his defense and, finding nothing, settled for grumbling to himself. "That little trick with the bean was well played, we'll grant him that."
'Bean," his second head whispered. A tremor passed through it, rippling from its helm all the way to the base of its neck, and its droopy eyes grew wide and fearful. Its tongue poked through its teeth as it mumbled, "Yuck." Fallon growled in agreement.
"Does your Guard Captain approve? I thought the rules of courtship forbade royalty from marrying commoners."
"I don't care about the rules!" Isabelle's answer was a bit more forceful than she'd intended, but the giant was rubbing at all the raw places in her heart. This is absurd. She lowered her eyes, refusing to look at Fallon, instead focusing on the flames eating away at the last remaining log. With the fire guttering low, a chill was beginning to creep back into the air. Here I sit, tired, grumpy, cold and discussing my marriage plans with a giant who wants to eat me. The princess withdrew into a protective ball, drawing her knees up to her chest and hugging herself.
Resting her head on her knees, Isabelle mumbled, "Why do you care so much? Is this an interrogation?"
His answer was a menacing rumble. "Not yet."
"Then why are you the one asking all the questions?"
"Because we always get answers." A thoughtful pause, then, " You surprised us, though."
Her curiosity roused, Isabelle lifted her head up a fraction of an inch. "I...did?"
"When you were caged, we expected you to tell us anything to save your own skin. It was what we'd come to expect of human prisoners." His words trailed off into a low growl, and even if she hadn't been looking the princess would've felt the frown pass over his face. "But you refused to talk."
"If I'd told you about the beanstalk, you would've taken an army down to conquer Albion and thousands of people would've died." And I would've been right.
The giant grew quiet, solemn. Isabelle didn't dare speak, but let Fallon mull over whatever was going through his oversized head. Now that the fire was almost out, she could sense Fallon's presence more easily than she could see him. Around them, any patches of moss that hadn't roasted in the fire's heat sputtered back into life, sending out an undersea glow that shimmered over the giant's armor. It was an eerie half-light that only revealed him in pieces: a glimpse of a gauntleted arm, a flash of chest plate. Mostly, he remained a looming dark shape surrounded by more darkness.
"You would've died to keep them safe?" His voice had gone soft, like a whisper in some old, barren place.
"Father would say that's what any good ruler should be willing to do." Even if it feels like suicide. Isabelle tried to curl into an even smaller ball. Something was bothering the giant, and she had no idea what it was, what had caused it, or what she could possibly do about it. And whenever a giant like Fallon became upset, people usually died.
Isabelle watched warily as Fallon reached into the firepit and snuffed out the last burning log between thumb and forefinger. "And would you still die for them, princess?"
She tried not to sound bitter. Tried very, very hard. "I think that's obvious." Elmont. Jack. Ana. It hurt to think of them. Hurt to imagine their grief-stricken faces when they heard of her death. But she would gladly trade her life for theirs if that was the price of keeping Cloister safe.
It happened so fast Isabelle didn't have time to run, hide, or even scream. One moment the giant was immobile as sculpture, the next he was sweeping an arm through the remnants of the fire, sending burned, blackened wood everywhere. His hand came down on her, snatching her up roughly, bringing her up to his face where she could see the furious gleam in his eyes. Breathing in ragged pants, too frightened to speak, Isabelle flopped bonelessly in his hand, her mind groaning out a single, miserable thought. What have I done now?
"Why does God show mankind such favor?" Fallon growled. His nostrils flared, his thick dark eyebrows drew together in a tight knot. "You have more land, more, happiness, more lo-" Whatever he'd been about to say got choked off, to be replaced by a ripping growl. Fingering his skull necklace, the giant seemed to see past Isabelle to some ancient time rife with grief and hatred. And jealous eyes are looking down on peaceful fields in Albion. The old rhyme came back to her in a searing flash. The princess was certain she was looking into those eyes now.
"I don't know!" she cried, frantic. "I don't know. I don't know. I swear I don't know!"
The fingers squeezing her loosened. Isabelle swallowed a sob as Fallon came back to himself. His second head frowned, its mouth a perfect upside-down u. With a heavy sigh he lowered the princess to the ground, setting her down gently. She crumpled in a heap, shaking.
"You don't know, do you?" Fallon rumbled, his voice softening as his rage cooled. "Of course, how could you know?"
Isabelle's voice nearly broke as she stammered out, "I-I don't know anything about giants, really." She sounded like a frightened child, and felt like one, too.
The princess yelped as Fallon caught her in his hand again. "Shhh...we won't hurt you." A finger prodded her closer to his side. She went reluctantly, a shaking mess, resigned to whatever incomprehensible thing the giant would do next.
What he did was about the last thing Isabelle had expected.
"You like stories, don't you, princess? Then be still, and listen..."
{O}
"I'm hungry, Fumm."
So you've told me, ever since we came out here. Fumm might've growled if he hadn't been preoccupied with catching the heavy granite block hurtling straight for his head. Raising both hands, Fumm caught the stone missile before it could shatter his skull and shoved it into place, closing a gap in the curtain wall that wound like a ribbon around the city. It slid in on a cloud of chalky dust, coating Fumm's hands in a layer of gray powder. With a finger, the giant prodded the block, decided it was as well-placed as it was going to get, and reached down into the mound of stone piled at his feet.
"I mean, we're in a place with loads of tasty little mankind running around. Why shouldn't we eat them?" Foe was standing with both arms crossed over his barrel chest and a surly scowl on his craggy face, waiting for an answer. Fumm still searched for a granite chunk to lob at the other giant; he wanted a nice, thick one.
"I told you. They're our allies." But for how much longer? Fumm could smell human fear wafting like hot smoke through the whole city. The skies were a constant threat, with dragons materializing from the clouds at erratic intervals. The beasts would circle like vultures, diving upon the tallest towers and snatching up any humans stupid enough to be in them. Most of the little people had gone to ground in vaults and cellars, leaving only an exhausted City Guard, an inexperienced boy-king, and two giants - who were just as big, terrifying, and hostile to human life as the dragons - to defend them.
Fumm sighed. In short, they were doomed.
This city is ripe for conquest, a small, secretive voice tickled the back of his mind. It was the voice of his baser nature, of battlelust and greed and stolen treasure heaped in glittering piles. Like it or no, destructive urges were a part of him - as they were for all giants - and sometimes they were hard to ignore.
Like now, as he catapulted a stone block roughly the size of a cow barn at his brother.
Foe caught the spinning slab in one hand and forced it into place. It had been Jack's idea to put them to work repairing the wall. The boy had asked them himself - very politely, Fumm had noticed with a smirk. Fumm had consented, not bothering to point out that walls were about as effective as spit against enemies who could just fly over them. The boy's probably afraid we'll get bored in the lull between battles. The thought gave him grim amusement. Doubtless the little king lost sleep at night imagining what gruesome things might happen in a city full of humans should two man-eating giants become bored.
They took to the task with enthusiasm. Work had rapidly degenerated into a sort of game, with the giant brothers hurling pieces of the wall at each other. It made the job more interesting, but unfortunately didn't make the time pass any quicker. Not with Foe complaining like a hundred year-old child. "But they're delicious allies." Foe's face turned dreamy as he licked his lips, no doubt imagining sweet human blood trickling down his throat. "We don't even need them. We can kill dragons all by ourselves."
A swirling cloud of gray dust drifted into Fumm's eyes, making him squint. Foe took advantage and tossed another stone at him, but Fumm had more than a thousand years experience with his brother's tricks and caught the block without needing to see it. It was hard to sound patient, but Fumm tried. "You were there when the scorpions shot that dragon out of the sky three days ago. The humans are proving themselves."
"Only after you showed them how to fletch their arrows the right way."
Foe meant the comment to be cutting, but it secretly pleased Fumm that the humans were listening to him. Getting the City Guard to heed his advice about the arrows hadn't been as hard as he'd thought. They need to be sharper. Thinner, to slip between a dragon's scales. He'd done his best to demonstrate the technique on a folded piece of treebark. Carve them like this, he'd explained, bending the wood until it resembled a ragged lightning bolt. In return for the secret of arrow-shaping, he'd demanded to have a look at one of their scorpions. This seemed only fair; the devices had given him no end of grief when he'd laid siege to the city. It was for that reason he liked them. Fumm wished he could bring down a few of his brothers who were skilled crafters, then put them to work assembling a scorpion large enough for a giant to wield. And what would the flying lizards make of that?
He could never speak of it with Fee, Fye, Foe, and especially not Fallon, but he was coming to realize humans weren't the stupid, weak little creatures his kind had always believed them to be.
And there was something else. Something that tugged at his mind even as he stared unblinking back at his brother's hard, accusing face.
"They have something we don't."
Foe sneered. "Really? What's that?"
"Girls."
For a moment, neither spoke. The look on Foe's face was somewhere between confused, incredulous, and disbelieving before finally shaping itself into a nasty leer. It was as close as he ever came to a smile."I knew it! I knew it!" he crowed, shaking a stubby finger at his brother, "Your heart's going soft for that human girl. The one that looks like a strawberry."
"It's the color of her hair, you fool," Fumm growled. He was already regretting the whole subject.
Foe moved, and Fumm suddenly became aware that his brother had been keeping one hand behind his back for a while. This time, the rock sailed over his head and clipped the top of the wall, taking out a previously undamaged guard tower. Dust rose up in a billowy cloud while stone fragments tumbled down in a minor avalanche.
"You're aim is off," Fumm remarked drily, nudging a toe against the rubble. "We're supposed to be making repairs."
"But I want to eat!" The bald giant's lower lip protruded in a fresh sulk. "Can't I just nibble on one of those little men in the brown robes? You know how good they taste."
Fumm knew. He also knew that the monks were staying well inside their abbey and Foe would have to tear the place apart if he were to get at them. Such destruction would not go unnoticed. He needed to end the matter in a way Foe would understand, and he needed to do it now. Straightening to his full height, Fumm locked eyes with his brother. "The humans are under my protection." He snarled fiercely, pouring all his pent-up frustration out through his yellowed, chipped teeth.
Scowling, Foe took a step back, unhappy but submissive. "Fallon will just have to knock some sense into you when he gets back."
Fumm crossed his arms, proud and defiant. "We'll see."
Foe turned back to the wall, kicking at the mound of stone bricks left unmortared. Evening was settling over Cloister and they weren't even close to being done. Fumm sighed, picking up a brick and staring at his brother's profile. Foe wore his anger in the lines of his face; it boiled in every stiff, shuffling move he made, and yet Fumm sensed a trace of genuine puzzlement beneath it all.
Reaching up to adjust his helmet, Foe seemed unusually pensive. He refused to look at Fumm, but his brother plainly heard curiosity riding on his voice when he spoke. "What are human girls like, anyway? I know they taste good but-"
"Ahem."
The voice came from somewhere close to their feet. Looking down, the giants saw an assembly of at least a hundred unsmiling human soldiers, armored in plate mail and pointing lances directly at them. The menacing display didn't carry much weight, however, since none of the soldiers stood higher than the giants' ankles. Fumm inhaled, smelling a great deal of fear among the paltry throng. His mouth began to water.
A bearded, flinty-eyed human who must've been either suicidal or very brave stepped forward. "I believe you two are supposed to be fixing the wall, not bashing more holes into it."
A growl from Foe made the mob take a collective step back. Fumm waved a hand, signaling him to stand down. "It was an accident, nothing more. My brother and I were-"
His eyes widened. A familiar scent was in the air, though almost obscured by clouds of human fear. A sweet scent, like sun-ripened berries. Ana. She was close, but where?
A commotion was taking place among the mass of humans at his feet. Fumm watched two soldiers rush to restrain something - or someone.
"You shouldn't be here!" an angry soldier shouted.
"Please, don't hurt him!" It was her voice, sweet and clear. Fumm's eyes roved, searching the crowd.
"Girl, he's a giant! He's like as not to hurt us!"
There he spied her, a flash of red hair among steel-clad manikins. Ignoring the panicked shouts, Fumm took a step forward. Humans scurried to get out of his way, their weapons forgotten. Three more steps and he'd reached his goal: a slender girl gowned in white silk, with a mane of red-golden hair hanging down past her waist. Bending down, the giant scooped her up in his hands, to the shocked cries of several humans. Fumm ignored them all and set off carrying Ana through the deserted city streets, though he did cast a sideways look at Foe's bewildered face. His brother giant seemed undecided about whether to laugh or curse. The soldiers were still milling about, torn by their reluctance to throw themselves into a hopeless battle and their chivalrous desire to rescue the helpless maid. Looking down, Foe snarled at them. "Oh, don't worry, he won't eat her. The fool thinks he's in love." And then, before Fumm passed out of earshot: "Do any of you tasty men have any pretty daughters? I want a girl like his."
Fumm picked his way carefully through the streets, choosing only the paths wide enough to admit him. Any humans he encountered were quick to get out of his way, running like frightened rabbits. It made it easier not to step on them, though the giant prickled at the curses that were occasionally flung at him. As he rounded a corner, Fumm surprised a mother and her young son, who pointed up at him in wonder. The mother shrieked, grabbing at the little boy's arm and dragging him into an alley. Fumm sighed.
A small hand patting his wrist drew his attention to the girl. She lay nestled in his cupped hands, peering shyly up at him.
"Are you all right?" she asked.
Fumm shrugged. "Fine."
"I thought they were going to attack you."
Deep black curls bounced as he shook his head irritably. "They wouldn't have hurt me." Fumm grunted, stepping high to avoid crushing a cart tipped onto its side in the street. "You know that."
Ana stared down at her hands. "I-I know...I just wanted to...to...
"You wanted to see me?" Fumm felt a grin inside that almost managed to creep outward to his face. It was an unfamiliar - but entirely welcome- sensation.
Ana was blushing scarlet and not doing a good job of hiding it. She seemed fascinated by his dirty fingernails as she admitted, "I like seeing you."
Carefully, Fumm curled his bulky forefinger around her arm. "I like seeing you too." It was true. He did like seeing her. Even if her ears weren't wide enough or her teeth were unnaturally straight and even. She was no giantess, but she was still the brightest beauty he'd seen in a long time.
And that worried him.
He carried her to an open, grassy place, one of the ornamental lawns close to the palace. The sun was traveling low in the sky when he set her down, then lowered his huge body down beside her. Water splashed in a nearby fountain, sounding almost like the gurgling river that flowed over the edge of Gantua, spat out of a gargoyle's mouth. The sound soothed him.
He stretched out a hand to curl his fingers lightly around Ana. "You need to be more careful, little one. I don't know how much longer this alliance between our kinds will last."
The girl looked up with green eyes that were big, lovely, and worried. "Jack will help."
Fumm shook his head. "Jack can't hope to control my brothers without the Crown. And the princess is still missing."
Ana's face crumpled, prompting Fumm to hastily add, "She may still be alive." But don't get your hopes up. No news of the princess had been heard since her abduction. The odds on her survival weren't good. If she'd been taken to a dragon's nest, she was as good as dead. If Fallon had her, well, who knows what he would do? Surely he wouldn't be stupid enough to eat her? She's more valuable as a hostage.
The hostage scenario seemed more likely. Fumm also knew from many painful injuries that his brother harbored a strange desire for the girl that might possibly go beyond eating her. Thinking of the implications made Fumm want to chuckle. The princess is terrified of him, the savage brute. God help the poor girl if she can do to Fallon what Ana has done to me.
Ana. Fumm snapped his attention back to the girl, who remained silent and downcast. He stroked her back with his thumb, regretting having mentioned the princess at all. The whole kingdom mourned for Isabelle, but Ana most of all.
After a moment she spoke. "You promised to tell me more about giants." Her head still hung, her voice sounding very small and sad. "Where you came from, why you live in the sky...and why you hate us."
"I don't hate you!"
"But can you say the same for everybody?" She raised her eyes to him then, and Fumm noted they were bright with a hint of fear. "I know what your weapon is made of."
The weapon in question rested in its pouch tied to Fumm's waist. One of his hands covered the bulge it made guiltily. If he'd known how attached he was going to become to the human girl, he would never have let her see the sling he'd fashioned from a dead man's skeleton. "He was a soldier who tried to kill me by hurling rocks at my head. Stupid, but brave." Fumm paused, remembering the muscular man who'd screamed curses while throwing the biggest rocks he could find at the black-haired giant who'd just smashed through his entire army, trampling warriors like grass. With his sword broken and shield gone, rocks had been the only weapons he'd had left. "After eating his flesh, I took his bones and made them into a stone-slinger. It seemed fitting."
Ana shuddered. With his fingers still folded around her, Fumm felt the tremors course through her little body. He pulled her closer, wanting to give comfort if she would let him.
"Why do you eat people?" she asked, blinking. Her eyes were wet.
Fumm sighed. "We have always been slaves to our appetites. Our hunger got us banished from the Earth."
"Banished?" Ana was a warm, soft flower in his hand, gazing up at him with curious eyes. Fumm felt something twist inside his heart. This wasn't going to be an easy story to tell, but he owed it to her.
"Our ancestors - the fathers of our entire race - were the angels. Sons of God who loved mortal women, and these women bore them powerful children. The first giants."
Far away, in a cave chiseled out of a mountainside, Princess Isabelle cried out in disbelief, "Angels?"
Tactful as ever, Fallon grumbled. "What did you expect, princess? That some wizard magicked us into being?"
"Well, actually...something like that, yes."
Fallon said nothing, but his second head burped and rolled its eyes at humans and their crazy ideas.
Back at Cloister Fumm continued his tale, recalling the old legends he'd learned as a nestling. "The first giants were the Titans. They were like nothing ever seen before, monstrously huge, gods on the Earth. The men were mighty warriors, and so were their women. Together they had children, and multiplied, and spread across the world."
In the cave, Isabelle tried to imagine a world teeming with giants. Pictured them leveling entire forests for firewood, grinding mountains like millstones, and drinking whole lakes in single gulps. It must've been an absolute nightmare. Peering up at Fallon, she chewed her lower lip, hesitated, then finally let the question fly. "Were you alive back then?"
His reply was a derisive snort. "At the dawn of creation? We're not that old, princess."
"The first giants overran the Earth, and the Earth wasn't a vessel meant to hold them. Mankind was being pushed aside, despite the blood ties they shared with the Titans. And this couldn't be allowed, since God has always favored mankind." Fumm paused as his sad eyes met Ana's. "That's why mankind tastes so good. Because you all are God's chosen."
"God punished your ancestors?" Ana asked,
"The angels did, since we were their creations." Seeing Ana entranced like a child was enough to make Fumm forget that he was describing the sordid, nasty history of his own kind. It was a history so old that it had become just another story, and, as the sinking sun blazed gold in the west, Fumm warmed to his role as storyteller. "The Titans were banished to a land in the sky, caught between Heaven and Earth. There, they began to diminish, shrinking in size through each generation, until we are no bigger than we are now."
"You're still very big to me," Ana pointed out.
Fumm inclined his head, musing. "I suppose it's a matter of perspective."
Huddled in the cave, Isabelle asked, "So how do the dragons fit in?" She didn't really expect an answer, and so was surprised when she got one.
At Cloister, Fumm continued, "The dragons came when Fee, Fye, Foe, Fallon, and myself were still young." Fumm leaned back, recalling the day they'd finally been allowed to set foot in their father's castle. He'd been seated on a massive throne carved from mountain rock so ancient the shapes of fossilized bones were clearly visible within, making it appear as though he reclined upon a hill of skulls. He'd taken one look at his five sons and decreed that they should all fight to determine who was strongest. After Fallon had left his four siblings in a bloody, battered heap, Father had made him war chief. General Fallon. Recalling that humiliating day made Fumm want to hit something. Then he felt Ana's little fingers touch him, and relaxed.
"The dragon's war wasn't with us, but with Heaven itself. Our home was in their way." Fumm growled, remembering. "Their leader was old, powerful, and cunning. Many giants fought him, and were burned alive. Even Father was wounded by him and bore the tainted scars from that fight until his own death. But that wasn't the worst of it."
"You said all the giantesses died in a war," Ana asked quietly.
Fumm nodded. "The dragon's wanted to wipe us out, for all time. What better way to drive us to extinction than by killing all the females?"
"That's horrible!" Ana cried out.
"That's terrible!" Isabelle shouted.
"Indeed." Fumm said, remembering how the dragons had stalked sleeping giantesses in their caves, burning them out. Smaller than males, a giantess still made for a formidable fighter, but even the bravest warrior can fall when half a dozen dragon band together with the intention of tearing their prey to pieces. "But they didn't go down without a fight."
In the cave, Isabelle sat spellbound, almost forgetting she was in the presence of a legendary killer. "What did they do?"
"There were three sisters. Old crones who were the last living Titans, though they had diminished. They were still powerful enough to send the dragon's leader back to Earth as a fiery comet, but the three of them burned to ash as well."
Isabelle suddenly remembered the picture she'd seen of the three haglike giants, hunched over by their great age, each sporting a single, glaring eye. "Did these Sisters, by any chance, have only one eye instead of two?"
Fallon's eyes narrowed suspiciously. "You know of them"
Isabelle gulped, remembering who she was talking to. "I...saw their picture in a book once."
Fallon growled; no doubt guessing exactly which book she meant.
At Cloister, the last rays of sunlight disappeared. Deep purple twilight settled over the besieged city. No one saw the woman and the giant sitting together in peace, and might not have believed their eyes if they had. Curled in Fumm's hand, Ana asked, "So the dragons were defeated?"
"Any dragons that survived the final battle fled back to Earth." A sharp twinge at the base of Fumm's neck made him sit up straighter. He rolled his shoulders trying to massage the stiffness out of them. "Sometimes on Gantua we come upon nests that were left behind, and deal with any young or eggs within." Fumm sniffed. The night air was heavy with the scent of roasting meat, and of humans fearful that they would be the next ones roasted. "Now the scaly bastards have returned," And I should be happy, Fumm thought. I should be eager for vengeance. His own mother, Freya, had died when a dragon tore open her chest and ate her still-beating heart. Freya's heart had been soft, not because she was weak but because she'd loved her children.
Fumm looked down at the tiny girl in his hand, this kind, vulnerable, and fragile human female that he'd inexplicably grown to care for. If Cloister falls, she will be devoured along with all the rest. He imagined the city in flames, burning under torches held by his own brother giants as they sacked the city, plundering and laughing and eating to their heart's content...
"Whatever happens, I will not let you be harmed, little one," he murmured while stroking her hair.
"I promise."
AN: This ending is kind of rushed and I don't know if I like it or not, but it was past time I get this chapter up. Just so it's clear, I switched between Fumm and Fallon during the storytelling because I wanted to make it feel like the beginning of the movie where two characters are hearing the same story at the same time. Transitioning like that is tricky to do in writing but I gave it my best shot. Lots of backstory in this chapter; I dug into mainly Christian and Greek mythology for the origins of the giants. I hope I made it work.