Tall and lithe and as silent as a stalking cat, the elf swept into her cottage as a cheerful whirlwind, her dress and satchel flapping behind her and almost catching in the shutting door. Copper-red hair bounced around her pale face in a long bob cut, her sharp features beaming with a radiant smile. With a few gentle tugs, her boots fell to the floor, her toes wiggling in freedom after finding their way to the well-sanded planks. Her satchel followed the shoes, landing gently beside them after leaving her hip. And then, silent and graceful as ever, she danced up the stairs and prepared for a warm bath.

The humans were lucky to be alive. Uncountable footsteps had carried them far from home, the quaking and vertigo overburdening their senses beyond the point of uselessness, destroying any chance they had of pathfinding a way back. Most were still alive, though, and those that were already free fell to their knees in prayer, crying grateful tears that they had not been obliterated by the constant barrage of leaves and twigs and pebbles hurled up by the elf's footsteps. Those still stuck to the leather of the giant boots by mud or plant matter avoided the bloody smears around them as they freed themselves and climbed down to the floor.

Compared to the orcs, goblins, dwarves, and lizardfolk, the elves possessed little natural body odor; the dirtiest elf was still more hygienic than the most mysophobic dwarf. However, there was little difference to a creature as small as a human. To those tiny beings counting their survivors beside the monumental cottage door, the miasma radiating from the depths of the elf's boots was as potent as witchfire. The hapless creatures were forced to gaze into those damp caverns, the shoes having fallen so that the shin-high opening of one fell before the toe of another. As the humans organized and debated, the vapors of the elf's sweat flowed around them, hammering in further the weight of their insignificance.

However, those at the boots were not the only souls unknowingly pulled from their forest home by the she-elf's foraging. The poor giant had plowed through the humans' rope walkways, only noticing when she thought she'd walked into a spider web. Several humans were unable to escape, and were dashed against her dress. Most died on impact or from falling, but some managed to cling to the fabric until the elf arrived at her tub. Their shrieks of terror reached not the elf's pointed ears as she undressed, the great cliff-face of her clothes sliding down her body in an avalanche of fabric that swallowed up the puny humans clinging to her. A fortunate few survived the giantess' disrobing, ending up atop the landscape of her crumpled clothes as she stood over them. The elf's legs rose up above as a pair of pale columns reaching up to a moon of a pelvis looming overhead. With a casualness brought on by complete privacy, the giant reached down and tugged at her linen undergarments, freeing the beige cloth from the cleave of her backside, and then hooked the top of the garment with her thumbs. She pulled loose the cloth from her waist and slid it down her supple hips, bending to facilitate the motion beyond her thighs.

To the humans below, they could only cry out in terror as a ceiling of cloth descended, falling freely down to them as the elf released the panties at her knees. Their world darkened, and some of the tiny creatures were obliterated by the cloth slamming down on them. Most, however, were saved by the natural peaks and valleys of the clothes, and found themselves in a wasteland dominated by a sweaty sky that stank of the natural scents of a working elf's nethers. But their torment was not complete; the landscape reeled as the giantess pulled a foot from her pile of clothes, and the sky crashed down beneath its weight as she stepped atop it to free the other foot. Any unlucky humans below were obliterated beneath the soiled cloth as it compressed beneath her full weight. And with that, the elf stepped away, leaving the very few survivors to either find their way out of the cavern of clothes or be drowned later in the wash.

She glided over to her tub and turned a knob. A torrent of water erupted from the spigot, filling the room with its chaotic sound as it crashed into the metal basin. The elf adjusted the water to her liking by turning another knob, and then plugged the drain with a cork. As the tub filled with water, a haze of steam began to swirl around the room. A band of little humans, so far having avoided the fates of their brethren, peered out into the mists. The copper-colored forest they found themselves in offered no clue as to what was happening; their stone-age minds had never encountered indoor plumbing. So, while their host pondered the utilitarian dwarven craftsmanship of her tub and considered seeking out one in the more refined orckish style, the humans cowered and huddled atop her scalp until a metallic squeal silenced the room. They were scattered across the auburn landscape as their world quaked beneath them.

“Mmm...” The elf's voice vibrated their skulls. Steam roiled up from the warm water as she laid herself in a relaxing position. For the humans, all was still: until the sea rose up to swallow them. Like mighty Atlantis, their world plummeted below the waves, its mass sucking them down with it as water rushed into the low-pressure void. None had been able to draw breath. The majority couldn't swim. The little creatures flailed and writhed beneath the weight of water, while below them an enormous face smiled. The elf took in the warmth of her bath, a pleasant sensation on her cheeks and forehead. She exhaled a content sigh, sending up bubbles that grabbed a few lucky humans and yanked them to the surface. However, their comrades were not long behind them. As quickly as it had sunk, the elf's head rose back up, her face leading the way. The humans found themselves pressed against a wall of flesh as they were rocketed upward until they burst above the waves atop a pale island, scattered, sputtering, but alive.

The world in which they now found themselves was much different than where they were mere moments before. For some, the landscape was merely a freckled mound with a singular mountain rising up some distance away. Others found themselves stuck on that very mountain, their gift of altitude laying bare the truth of their surroundings. They gazed down the slope and watched their fellow humans gather on the cheeks below, near indistinguishable from the other specks on the elf's skin. The cheeks flexed and bulged as the giantess smiled. The humans down there screamed as beads of water rolled passed them, some being scooped up and carried down the elf's face to drown in the ocean of her tub. However, those on the nose caught a glimpse of something unexpected. The giant lips widened, spreading their wrinkles. Inside, stuck in the tight folds, were more of the tiny creatures. Where their comrades were gazing upon a landscape of flesh, these humans were in a world of plush crevices. Most didn't know there was anyone else nearby; there were few of them, and they were spread between both of the elf's lips. As the cracks above them widened, the top-lip folk saw the humans on the ivory mountain looking down. Their voices shouted and their arms waved on instinct, but the gestures were pointless.

Quick as a whip, a giant, glistening muscle rushed over the top lip in a tidal wave of bumpy flesh. None saw its full mass in the split-second it was there, but all were affected. Those who'd thought themselves fortunate to be near the surface of their crevice were scooped up by it and carried off to never be seen again. Those stuck deeper could only scream as drops of saliva peeled off its ridges and rushed toward them, burying them in thick liquid. Some drowned, but many were able to make their way to the surface. Their celebration was also cut short; without warning, the lips pursed and squeezed together. Every human trapped on them, including those on the bottom lip, were obliterated within the folds. The elf never knew that her thoughtless motions, mere reactions to the water flowing down her face, had ended over a dozen lives.

Meanwhile, downstairs, the remaining humans were dividing themselves up. To some, climbing into the elf's satchel was clearly the best option. With luck they'd be carried back to where they'd come from, or at least close enough. Others opposed the idea, citing that they'd have no way of knowing if the giantess would ever return to their home, and even if she did they would have to get down from her waist. Many of these decided to gather what supplies they could and begin a long, desperate journey in the direction they thought she'd carried them from. Still, others wanted to stay where they were. These were the young and adventurous, the outcasts and the misfits. To them, the prospect of starting their own society filled their bellies with fire. They followed the supply-gatherers for a time, but soon broke off to find a suitable place to stay.

As these humans went their separate ways, their cousins in more immediate danger wracked their brains for a way to reach dry land. While the elf relaxed in her warm tub, their eyes were drawn to her body. Two islands rose out of the water not far away. Pale and freckled, these looked similar to their surroundings, but the tips of the mounds were topped with a dark circle and a pillar each. Further away, across the steamy sea, the humans saw ten toes wriggling in delight and grasping the edge of the tub. Between these landmasses were the mountains that formed the elf's knees. The tiny creatures turned to see where their hostess was resting her head, but before they could do so their eyes were instead drawn to her arms. They watched as the massive appendages uncorked a bottle and poured out a handful of thick, creamy goop. An aromatic blend of strawberries and anise blew over them, and they stared in awe as the giant hands rubbed together to prepare the soap.

The elf started with her hair. Enormous digits massaged the potion into her roots. Suds rained down around the humans, carrying with them the spicy-sweet smell that was intoxicating to their minuscule noses. And then, before they knew it, the elf's massive fingers were upon them. Fortunately, the slippery soap preserved most from being crushed outright. Instead, they were scattered and mashed and buffeted around as the giantess massaged her face. The viscous fluid trapped them, and their eyes and airways burned from its intensity. The movement stopped for a moment, and only a moment; a second later they were plummeting down to the freckled mounds, stuck to the elf's hands as she sat up and washed herself. They died alone, scattered from each other and trapped within the layer of bubbles and soap. The last one alive choked as he tried to scream, watching two giant fingers close around him and the nipple his drop of potion was stuck to. He suffocated beneath her thumbprint, her all-vibrating moan the last thing he consciously perceived.

The elf descended the stairs as noiselessly as ever, but her beaming smile was practically humming with delight. She glided back toward her entryway, wrapped in nothing but a warm, plush towel. However, unbeknownst to her, a group of humans were well on their journey to her kitchen. Though she never saw them, they immediately saw her. Within three seconds of revealing herself, the shadow of her foot loomed over them. They cried out in terror as her bare sole fell from the sky, the weight of her whole body behind it. The tiny creatures were obliterated in an instant. Their supply mission was ended by a single step of her dainty foot, and their remains were never noticed above the ambient dirt of her floor. As such, the elf's next few steps brought her to where she'd dropped her satchel. She plucked up the bag, twirled into her kitchen, and let it slide from her hand and onto the counter. Practiced fingers flipped up the clasp and lifted the back of the bag. Its contents spilled onto the table in a controlled chaos.

The humans that had been inside were shaken, but otherwise whole. They had not expected her to dump the bag, and so had took some time to regroup. Above them, the elf busied herself with inspecting her haul. Her body rose up over them as a living land form, so large as to not notice them despite being only inches away. When her hand swung overhead to collect one of the massive plant parts surrounding them, it seemed to block out the world with its shadow. But, when it carried away the ingredients, the minuscule people were left disturbingly open on the endless plain of her counter. Still, only when the elf was preparing to put away her satchel did the crowd of humans finally catch her eye. She thought them to be a strange powder at first, but when her eye dipped so low that its sapphire core became as deep and vast as the sky to them, she realized they were sentient creatures. Her first thought was that they were fairies. However, she quickly ruled that out; even fairies were much larger than these creatures. Realization struck when she noticed that some of the tinies appeared to be male.

Of course she'd seen humans before, but she'd never thought about them much at all. Her race had been relatively unaffected by them back when the two species were roughly equivalent in size. They also lacked any inherent magical properties, and so were never called for in her alchemical pursuits. She watched them for a moment, holding her breath so as to not scatter the impossibly small beings. There was only one benefit she saw in the humans.

“Sell them,” she whispered. Her face rocketed away from the humans as fast as it had descended. With an uncharacteristic seriousness she grabbed a vial from her cupboard. She dumped the silvery fluid it contained behind the humans, and watched as it flowed toward them. Panicking, the tiny creatures ran, but the fluid had a mind of its own. It reached out for them, scooping them up and pulling them along in its rush to the edge of the counter. Silent and frowning, the elf held the vial down to the edge. Like a cat coming to its owner call, the fluid slid over the edge and down into the container, the humans suspended within it. It seemed satisfied with itself as its mistress regarded it from above. Then, from some unseen bottle, the elf collected a clear liquid with a glass dropper. The measured amount was released into the vial, and the semi-conscious silver fluid instantly turned a milky blue. The giantess capped the vial with a cork, and when she was satisfied with its seal she turned it upside down. The humans cried out, catching a glimpse of the gurgling abyss that was the drain to her kitchen sink. The liquid that had collected them slowly drained out through the cork, but the little people remained inside, even as small as they were. When all the liquid had disappeared through the invisible holes, the elf turned their container back upright and then placed it back on its rack.

The next day, she carried the humans and some potions she'd made to the market in a village near where she lived. The potions sold quickly, but the locals were also elves, and so had little interest in the humans. But, a noblewoman returning home from a stay in the orc realm happened to approach while seeking a potion to help her sleep. She noticed the creatures and remarked that the orcs had interesting uses for the humans that she'd like to try. She purchased the vial without question, and the alchemist elf returned home with a full belly, a new dress, and a pair of new foraging boots.

Her life went on as it had before, foraging, making potions, singing, and more, but all the while still unaware that there were other beings watching. The last group of humans had set up a camp in her kitchen cabinets, but after many years they'd spread out to most of the rooms in her cottage. As she lived her life, so they lived theirs, loving, fighting, and dying underneath her notice. It took less than a generation for the tiny creatures to view her as their protecting goddess. She went out into the dangerous world and gathered food and resource, and all they had to do was collect what they needed from her and avoid being crushed as she moved about. They did not pray to her; they knew she could not hear. However, the tiny people revered anything of hers they came in contact with; lost toenail clippings became the centers of their towns, and they performed pilgrimages to her clothes when the garments lay discarded for too long. The elf finally discovered them during one such journey. Her toe crashed down atop a sweat-encrusted sock that had laid abandoned where she'd thrown in an oft-overlooked part of her bedroom. The humans fell to their knees in holy fear. Few had actually been so close to her, and now the cliff-face that was her toe print loomed over them, and had obliterated some as it landed. When the elf bent to retrieve the hardened cloth, she noticed the same dust she'd seen years ago. She quickly grabbed a magnifying glass and focused on the tiny creatures. With her giant eye now appearing even larger, the humans spewed out a spiritual wail and kissed at the filthy cloth and, if close enough, the ridges of her toes. Her mouth dropped, astounded, but after a few minutes the lips crept back into a sweet, slightly devious, smile.

The elf whirled into her cottage, closing the door behind her with a bump from her hip. The weather had been horrible: blazingly hot, and yet rainy enough to keep the air a sweltering miasma. Regardless, her routine was enough to put a smile on her face, even without the spells which kept the house a comfortable climate.

“I'm home, my lovelies!” She called. Of course, she didn't have to say it. They were already well aware, and didn't even have a grasp of her language. But, they knew the routine as well. She removed her satchel with a dainty toss and then stepped out of her boots. Her soaked socks left fog on the cool floor as she retrieved a book from a shelf and then collapsed onto her couch. She shifted her feet into a comfortable position before becoming entranced by the story on the page. Below, the humans began climbing as soon as her feet were still. They poured from where they'd laid in wait within the cracks of the floorboards, and crawled through the fibers of the filthy socks. Their goddess' stench was strong, but they were used to it by now. They set to work rubbing and kissing her feet, and clawing out the microscopic specks of dirt and dead skin within their particular work area. The elf never felt a thing, though her toes twitched and squirmed in delight. Knowing her humans were there was enough to make her feel better, no matter how the day had gone. When she was satisfied and ready for a bath, she called down a warning, setting the creatures clamoring to escape back to the floorboards. They rushed back through the tiny holes in her socks, but inevitably the slow would be left behind. They would be lost, trapped and never seen again when she stood and walked away, sacrifices to their goddess' whims as she went about her evening rituals. Later, before she resigned to bed, she would place some of her dinner down for the little society to enjoy. A few crumbs would do; the creatures were so small, and they'd praise her regardless of what it was. That was the deal... even if the little humans had never agreed to it.