As Samuel peered out through the bars of his cage, wondering what was in store for him. He’d been drafted into the army, he wasn’t sure what the war was about, or even who the king’s men were fighting, but the soldiers had seen him carrying flour from the mill and grabbed him straightaway. As soon as they’d confirmed he was of age he’d been informed he was now a soldier in the king’s army. From there it was a spear in hand and marching orders. The enemy was a coalition of non-human armies. That alone didn’t worry him much, he’d worked as a laborer alongside orcs and dwarves, a few of them were even in the King’s army.

He hadn’t expected to see giants though, he hadn’t even been sure they were real! And when they’d plodded towards his unit’s position, each one the size of a bell tower, the other men had thrown down their weapons and fled. It hadn’t been bravery so much as stark shock that had held him in place, but the giants hadn’t seen fit to hurt him when they’d taken the hill. If anything it seemed they felt sorry for him, but not sorry enough to let him go.

He was tossed into a brass cage with a few cheese wheels and a bucket of water. One of the Giants had apologetically explained that he was being sent back to their capital as a prisoner.

That was how he’d found himself here, in their royal palace. His cage had been handed over to a stern raven-haired woman in what he recognized as a maid’s uniform. She’d brusquely carried him through the oversized halls of the castle until they reached a small kitchen.

“My name is Marisa, I am the head maid in this castle and second only to the Queen herself in all affairs of the household. What are you called human?” the woman asked, holding the cage up to her steely blue eyes.

“S-samuel,” he said nervously.

“Well Samuel I’m sure it does not surprise you to learn that your nation has lost the war?”

“No,” he muttered.

“Our terms were quite generous,” the maid continued, “We took no lands, nor did we plunder any of your cities, but we will be keeping all of you that were captured.”

“So I’m not going home then?” he asked glumly. He didn’t have much to go back to, orphaned as a child he’d worked at the mill for room and board.

“I’m afraid not Samuel,” she said, unlatching the cage. “Most noble houses like to have a few humans living with them, but it is so difficult to entice you to come to our country during peacetime… I suppose you prisoners will satisfy the demand for now.”

“W-why do they have such trouble getting humans to come here?” he asked nervously as her outstretched hand grabbed for him. The maid chuckled, easily cornering him in the cage and pulling him out.

“Many humans are too prideful to admit they’d be happier living under our care,” she said. “Now please stop struggling, I know it can take you little things some time to get used to being held, but you are being presented to the Queen tomorrow.”

Her fingers came up and with a forceful tug ripped his shirt off, he started and looked up at her in shock, but she just smiled and went for his pants next. He squirmed in her grip, now completely naked.

“Those rags will never do, they’re filthy and unbecoming of anyone in the royal household, even one such as you.”

She dropped him unceremoniously into a bowl of pleasantly warm water. She returned a minute later with a bar of soap and, after sudsing her hands, thoroughly scrubbed him free of dirt and grime. She dipped him in the bowl and rinsed him off gently, her fingers lingered over one part of him in particular and she chuckled softly to herself.

“Men,” she said, “no matter what size you’re all the same.”

“I-I didn’t mean to-“ he began, but she cut him off.

“Samuel hold still and let me dry you.”

She brought a towel down and, shimmying both hands up his sides, quickly toweled all of the water off him. Next, she handed him a plain pair of trousers and a white shirt. Despite their mundane appearance he had to admit they were probably the finest clothes he’d ever worn.

When he was dressed Marisa plucked him up again and carried him back to the cage. She stopped briefly to tear a chunk of bread from a nearby serving plate and tossed it in with him before latching it closed again.

“Much better,” she said, beaming at him through the bars, “now you look somewhat presentable…” Her gaze turned serious a moment, “Now Samuel I want you to understand something, this is our QUEEN you are being given to. She deserves the very best, and we all need to earn our keep. In this household those who don’t carry their weight are… removed.”

His eyes went wide, what could she mean by that? Surely she didn’t mean… He’d heard giants sometimes ate people, would THAT be what would happen? Torture maybe? He suddenly had a vision of himself begging the maid for mercy as her shoe came down on him.

“I’ll carry my weight!” he said hurriedly, “I’ll make her the happiest she’s ever been! Honest!”

Marisa smiled, “I’m glad to hear that. Queen Catherine is our monarch but I also care very much for her, as I’m sure you’ll soon understand.” With that she left, snuffing out the last of the lamps as she went.

The next day Marisa returned, leading a group of other maids that eagerly took up positions in the kitchen. They set about preparing breakfast, though a few smiled or winked at him for the most part they ignored him.

“Would you like anything to eat before you are brought to the queen?” Marisa asked.

“No,” he said shakily, he was nervous enough… the last thing he needed was nausea striking.

Marisa shrugged and his world moved as she lifted his cage. To her credit she did her best not to let it sway, but he still found it difficult to keep upright. As they rose through the levels of the castle the décor became more ornate, until they reached what he could only assume were the areas where the Queen and her guests would spend most of their time.

Finally, they came to a large set of double doors, Marisa pushed them open to reveal a massive throne room the size of Samuel’s entire village. A few giants were milling about, and a few spared a glance at the maid as she walked to a crimson carpet that led up the center of the room to a throne on a raised dais.

Rather than seated on the throne like he’d expected the Queen was standing and conversing with another woman. She turned to see Marisa approaching and smiled warmly, giving Samuel a good view of his new owner.

She looked to be in middle age, with just a few stray grey hairs in an otherwise well styled dark brown bob. Her figure was plump, with wide hips and breasts that would have impressed him with their size even if she’d been a normal human. Being a giant… he gulped and tried to fight down thoughts of just how much larger than him each of those breasts were, either one would dwarf him for certain.

“My Queen!” Marisa said with a curtsy, “As you requested I’ve brought your new human.” She presented the cage to the queen.

A pair of piercing green eyes peered in at him, and the Queen’s eyebrows rose in shock, “Why he’s just a little thing!” she cooed, stroking the bar of his cage with a finger, “He can’t possibly be the soldier that was captured?”

“I can assure you he is my lady,” Marisa said, “a soldier delivered him to me personally.”

“We just won a war with the humans,” The queen said offhandedly to the other giant lady, “I decided we would keep a few of the ones we captured, they’re just so helpless on their own…” She turned back to him, “Do you have a name sweetheart?”

“Samuel m-my queen,” he said, trying to keep his nerves steady.

“Oh, that’s precious,” she said, “Marisa this one is so small and sweet, even for a human. Are you sure he needs to do chores?”

Marisa frowned, “Queen Catherine,” the queen seemed to stiffen slightly at the use of her name, “I know he is… appealing, but he was an enemy soldier. As your head maid I must insist we put him to some manner of work.”

Samuel gulped and rushed to the bars of the cage, gripping them tightly, “My Queen!” he shouted, “I can work, I worked in a mill! I’ve a very strong back and I’m very eager to show you what I can do!”

The Queen and the lady at her side giggled at his outburst, “Oh Catherine you MUST keep this one, there is so much a lady can do with an obedient and eager young man like that.”

The Queen blushed and waved Marisa away, “Put him in my chambers then, I’ll have to spend some time examining him later.”

As the cage was carried away the two women laughed uproariously, both sparing glances at him. He swallowed nervously, wondering what they’d said… he spent little time with the wealthy, and less time with the nobility. He’d always viewed them as a hazard, something capricious and potentially cruel, best avoided.

“I think that went very well,” Marisa said pleasantly, “Her Majesty seems to like you.”

He was carried into an ornate royal bedchamber, and he marveled at the luxury. A canopy bed larger than a wheatfield, flowing red curtains over the windows, her own fireplace! At any size it was a far cry from his straw stuffed mattress back home. The cage was placed on a mirrored desk, a number of small tubes and brushes were strewn about. Makeup?

Marisa unlatched his cage and gestured for him to come out, “Your duties are simple,” she began, “you are to polish and arrange all of her majesty’s makeup containers, lipstick tubes, and anything else she stores on this desk.” She opened a tiny compartment revealing a set of human sized wash rags. “You will find that all of the furniture in this room has ladder or stairway access in your size to the floor,” she explained, “humans were at one time much more common in this castle, and everything in here should be accessible to you.”

“Why aren’t there any humans living here anymore?” he asked before he could stop himself.

In spite of her serious demeanor Marisa chuckled, “You don’t know much history do you Samuel? Until the last hundred years or so we would simply take any humans we wanted. We no longer do so.”

She gestured to a few other areas of the room, “You will also be expected to sweep and occasionally mop behind furniture, under the bed, and other hard to reach areas. Her majesty may leave her shoes out, you should take this as an order to polish them. At the end of the day return to your cage and await her majesty.” She paused, glancing over the cage, “I will try to get you something soft to sleep on.”

“Yes Ma’am,” he said, surveying the room. “I’ll do my best.”

“See that you do,” Marisa said with a wry smile, “After that outburst in the throne room expectations are high… and you don’t want to know what will happen if you let me down.”

He gulped, “Yes Ma’am,” he repeated.

With a final smile, and a curtsey he couldn’t help but feel had a sarcastic edge to it, she left.

With a sigh he decided he would get started. His work at the mill served him well, instead of hoisting bags of grain though it was a lipstick tube as long as his leg. It didn’t take him too long to gather the scattered makeup supplies and arrange them in what he thought was an appropriate fashion. Grabbing the rags he polished the brass casings, the long, to him at least, brushes, and even a small mirror.

Marisa had been telling the truth about access to the floor, but it was by far the longest ladder he’d ever seen. He realized that there would be a similar climb up and down for any of the building sized furniture in the room.

He did his best anyway, and by the end of the day as he trudged to his cage, he looked around the room and felt proud of the clean desktops, nooks, and crannies throughout the room. He collapsed to the brass floor and huffed, wishing he’d taken the breakfast offered in the morning.

The queen entered a short time later, humming quietly to herself as she kicked off the day’s shoes and sighed. Walking over to her vanity desk she peered into his cage.

“Where is my little human?” she said in a singsong voice, “Come out of there and say hello!”

Fighting his aching muscles he forced himself upright, “Yes your majesty,” he slowly trudged out of the cage.

She frowned, “Samuel, are you alright?”

“Yes your majesty,” he insisted, “Just a bit tired.”

“Oh, Marisa really did put you to work didn’t she?” the queen said soothingly. He started as he was scooped up into her hands, gently carrying him around the room as she looked it over.

“Everything looks very nice,” she said, “Let’s just try to relax, have you eaten dinner sweetheart?”

“No your majesty,” he said, the reminder made the hunger in his stomach return.

“That won’t do,” she muttered, “you’re nothing but skin and bone.” She walked to the doorway and briefly tugged on a string, ringing a small bell above the doorframe. A few moments later there was a knock at the door. The queen opened it revealing a silver dining tray. She picked it up with her free hand, keeping him clutched in her fist as she walked to the bed.

“I was always told not to eat in bed growing up,” the queen giggled, “But why be the queen if you can’t break a few rules?” She sat herself in the bed and opened the tray, revealing a large collection of pastries and a few chocolates. Samuel’s mouth watered as she set him down next to them.

“Go on!” she encouraged as he gingerly stepped forward.

The first pastry he grabbed was as big as his torso, hefting it eagerly he took a bite and his mouth filled with a warm sweetness. For him this was the kind of food a man could only eat on a holiday, or when the mill owner felt particularly generous.

The Queen’s massive hand drifted past his shoulder and grabbed a cookie that was nearly as large as he was. He watched in awe as it was easily lifted up to her mouth, and casually popped in. The queen chewed it slowly and sighed happily as she swallowed it, a few crumbs caught on her chin.

“I really shouldn’t eat these,” she muttered, reaching for another one, “The Gods know I don’t want to explain to the royal tailor that I’ll be needing a new wardrobe this winter AGAIN… who wants to look at a fat queen?” she chuckled softly at that last part.

“I think you look beautiful your majesty,” he blurted without thinking. As soon as it was out of his mouth he wished he hadn’t said it, but… it was true, there was no denying it. The queen was certainly no waif, but her weight had gone to all the right places.

“So my new human is a little flatterer?” she said in an amused tone, she was trying to be dismissive but her smile was certainly genuine.

As he continued eating she slowly got up and went to go change, when she returned in her nightgown he almost choked on his pastry. She was a pretty figure in her court dress, but the nightgown… It seemed almost deliberately shaped to prop her immense breasts up in a pleasing manner, and as she sauntered back towards the bed he realized that up close the material was sheer enough that her black smallclothes could be seen underneath. The bed creaked as she sat on it again, gently she lifted the serving tray away and placed it on the nightstand as she got under the covers.

She regarded him a moment, “Samuel,” she said suddenly, “Has Marisa given you bedding for your cage yet?”

“No your majesty,” he said, “I think she just forgot, she seems very busy-“

“It won’t do,” the queen huffed, “you’ll sleep here in my bed tonight.”

His heart skipped a beat, he felt blood rushing downward.

“In bed with you?” he asked, his voice cracking slightly.

The Queen noticed his discomfort, and from her smile he could tell she was enjoying it on some level. For Queen Catherine’s part while she’d initially just wanted him to be warm, or perhaps use the pillow next to her, now she had something else in mind.
 
She picked him up by the back of his shirt and, after dusting him off slightly with her other hand, slowly lowered him into her massive cleavage. His face was red as could be as she parted her breasts slightly, causing him to fall a bit further in, becoming trapped.

“Y-Your majesty?” he breathed, only his head was sticking out now, and as he helplessly tried to shift himself between the breasts, he realized he simply couldn’t.

“Try to get some sleep darling,” she said sweetly as a single finger came down on his head and pushed him slowly, but firmly, downward. He saw her smiling face one more time before he disappeared into her pillowy flesh.

Queen Catherine sighed in contentment, feeling her tiny man squirm trapped in her bosom. Reaching for the nightstand she decided to read a little before going to sleep.

…

When Samuel woke up the first thing he noticed was that his arms and legs felt simultaneously like they were on fire and made of jelly. He groaned as he forced himself up, he blinked remembering the night before and looking around. He was back in the cage… but there was a carefully folded silk handkerchief underneath him, one that smelled very much like the perfumed warmth he’d fallen asleep in the night before. There was also another pastry in the cage, as well as a note twice as large as he was with a flowery script written on it.

“Samuel,” he read groggily, “had to go to court, don’t over exert yourself, signed Queen Catherine.”

He lay back on the handkerchief and sighed, she was… a goddess. He felt himself growing hard just thinking about her, and his head swam. She could be older than him, she could be a hundred feet tall, she could be a gods blasted QUEEN! The rational part of his mind was protesting it every minute but the rest of him didn’t care. She was the most beautiful woman in the world.

 Where the previous day he’d worked himself into fatigue worried about punishment, today he did so hoping to surprise the Queen. He polished her shoes until he could see himself in them, he arranged her makeup on the vanity a dozen times trying to get it just right, he summoned all of his strength and made her bed, pulling the covers like a sailor pulled at ropes during a storm at sea.

Sometime around noon Marisa appeared with food for him, bread, a cut of ham, and a bit of cheese. She looked around the room and pursed her lips.

“Samuel,” she said hesitantly, looking over the extensive amount of work he’d done, “I must clarify that when I threatened punishment for failure to perform… I mean that perhaps if you were slacking you would write lines or receive a light spanking, at worst be sent to live in the village…” She cleared her throat, “As a human living among giants I’m sure it can be intimidating-“

“That’s nice,” he said, picking himself up and walking to the end of the nightstand where his mop lay, “But I’m really just trying to do a good job now! I love it here!”

Marisa’s mouth hung open a minute and she tried to gather her thoughts, “S-Samuel did you make the bed?”

“Of course!” he said eagerly.

“I appreciate the enthusiasm but perhaps let a giant handle the giant chores,” she said nervously, “I never thought I’d say this but there is a time when slowing down a bit can be appropriate.”

“I’ll consider it!” he said, beginning to clean the top of the dresser.

…

“Oh my,” the Queen said quietly, looking at Samuel’s unconscious form laying in his cage.

“I swear Catherine I did NOT do this to him!” Marisa said defensively. When alone the two of them rarely bothered with titles.

“If I thought you abused the staff you wouldn’t be my head maid,” the Queen said softly. “Did you find out anything more about where he came from? He just seems so soft to have been a soldier.”

“From what I understand their king drafted a great number of young men,” Marisa said, “the only thing our human contacts could confirm is that he was an orphan.

“Well he’s mine now,” the Queen said firmly. “Marisa go and prepare something for him in the kitchens, I don’t have anything important scheduled for the next few days, I think I’ll take over his care, at least until things get busy again.”

…

Samuel groaned and opened his eyes. This time he’d done it, he’d really pushed himself too far. If he’d been shaky the previous day now he was positively quaking.

“Oh Mr. sleepy is finally up!” the Queen said eagerly. She got up from the bed and placed the book she’d been reading on the nightstand, approaching where he lay sprawled on her handkerchief. She reached into the cage and gently pulled out his limp form.  

“Y-your majesty!” he stammered, “I was going to get more work done but-“

“Enough,” she said sternly, “Samuel, you’ve worked yourself half to death. I won’t stand for it any longer.” She sighed, “this is what happens to young men who don’t have anyone to look after them, you go off and do such foolish things!”

She walked over to a small wash basin by her bed, poking a finger in to see that it was still warm she nodded and set him next to it.

“Strip,” she commanded.

He gulped and began unbuttoning his clothes, evidently she didn’t think he was going fast enough because her fingers came down and pulled the shirt away from him. He was roughly de-pantsed in the same fashion as soon as his pants were unbuttoned. He nervously tried to keep his privates covered as he looked up at the enormous queen.

She had a satisfied smile on her face, Samuel certainly was an appealing physical specimen, and briefly she wondered about some of the things she’d read from a time when humans were far more common in the kingdom… but she put it out of her mind. As much as she wanted to order him to put his hands at his sides and let her see everything, that wasn’t what he needed right now.

She picked him up and dipped him slowly into the water, although she could see his little bottom he was still minding his modesty, so with a chuckle she reached for a small bag next to the basin. She gently dropped a few white pellets into it, causing bubbles to foam up in the warm water, obscuring it.

“I really can work,” he insisted, “You can tell Marisa I’ll do all the cleaning in your room-“

“No,” the Queen said simply. She cupped some of the water in her hand and gently poured it over him, soaking his hair as he protested.

“At least let me wash myself!” he began, but another handful of the sudsy water drowned out his next statement.

“You are just the cutest thing,” she cooed, “trying so hard… Shhh… just let me take care of this.”

When the third cupped hand full of water washed over him he didn’t fight it. He might have if he’d had more energy, but he was spent. As he looked up at her warm smile he felt his heart sink, this… wasn’t how he’d hoped to get her attention, much less affection. A part of him had hoped she’d be impressed with his feats of strength, small though he was. Now he was being washed like a disobedient pet.

“Good boy,” she muttered, slowly rubbing the soap into his hair. With another cupful of water she rinsed, and satisfied she reached into a drawer and placed a small white robe in his size next to the basin. He gingerly waded to the side and began to climb out when he was lifted up by what he thought was a towel, with dismay he realized it was only a small wash rag to her but it performed all the same.

She roughly dried him off and then draped the cloth over him, wrapping him like a crepe. Gently she placed him down again and admired her work.

“Can I… put on the robe now?” he asked.

She sighed and turned around, “Go ahead, I won’t peek.”

Despite her promise he felt that she turned around just a LITTLE too quickly for him to have properly secured the robe. As it was, she seemed slightly disappointed when all she caught sight of was him tying the knot to hold it closed.

She carried him into bed with her as she had the first night, and as she placed him in her lap again, he was confronted with a small saucer plate with a large chunk of cheese in the center.

“Eat up little mouse,” she said teasingly. He did so, conscious of her occasionally stroking the top of his head as he did. It didn’t take him long to finish. He leaned back against her, full and satisfied.

“Now, off to bed with you!” she said, reaching for him again.

He blinked and glanced at the clock in the corner, “I’m… not terribly sleepy,” he protested, “I was sleeping almost all day!”

“And it wasn’t nearly enough,” the queen replied, “You can set your own bedtime when you’ve shown you won’t run yourself ragged.”

“Can’t I stay up and read with you or something?” he asked

She rolled her eyes and chuckled, a bit of care and he’d become a brat. She stood up and carried him over to his cage on the vanity. He was pouting a bit as she placed him down on the surface.

“I suppose I do know two surefire ways to tire a man out…” she joked, “A plate of cookies and milk for one.” She wondered if he got the subtext but he just stared at her blankly.

“What’s the other?” he asked obliviously, “I’m a bit full for milk and cookies.”

By the gods he was cute, and she wanted nothing more than to turn around and act out the lewdest things she’d read about humans and giants… but she forced herself to calm down. Samuel needed to know he was being cared for, he needed to feel safe.

“It was a… joke Samuel,” she said, “The uhh… other thing that tends to tire men out.” She giggled slightly, “Well you’d need to take that robe off for me to show you.”

His eyes went wide as the realization hit him, and she felt her heart melt again. She chuckled softly as she turned to head back to bed herself.

The sound of a human sized robe hitting the surface of a giant-sized vanity wasn’t loud, but to her attentive ears it might as well have been a cannonball.

She sucked in a breath and blinked once. Slowly she turned around to see her human, her Samuel, naked on her vanity.

“C-Could you show me your majesty?” He said with as much bravery as he could muster.

“Catherine,” she growled lustily as she slowly walked back towards him, “Catherine when we’re alone.”

His eyes went wide and he felt a touch of fear as she slipped out of her dress, approaching him less like the matronly queen he’d been used to and more like a stalking lioness. A stalking lioness the size of a small castle… She loomed over him in her smallclothes, grinning down at his naked form with lust burning in eyes the size of wagon wheels.

He realized as he took in the sight that her clothes had obscured some of her form, those breasts were truly immense once freed, and the slight jiggle of her bottom made him wonder if he’d one day find himself trapped there too… he was becoming overwhelmed just from the thought. He almost laughed madly at the queen’s earlier japes about her weight, this was a goddess on earth.

He cried out in surprise as her hand swept him off his feet. Where her hands were normally gentle and soft, now she was forceful. He was roughly shoved feet first down the hem of her smallclothes. He could smell her arousal wafting over him as she pulled them tightly closed again. The two of them gasped together as from outside the cloth barrier her hand came down to force him against her womanhood.

He felt a wetness washing over him, he had little experience with women, but calling upon memories of ribald tavern talk he decided to do his best, reaching upward and beginning to writhe himself against what he hoped were the right areas. From the pleased moans overhead at least SOME of that tavern talk was true, and as he felt her slick folds rubbing against him he wondered how long he would last himself.

He wasn’t sure how long this went on, but as the pressure from her hand increased, and he continued his movements the Queen seemed to spasm. She almost screamed and the movement stopped as he was roughly forced against her one final time. He felt himself beginning to climax at the same time and let the pleasure wash over him.

…

“You’re going to need another bath,” the Queen mused, holding his glistening form over herself while she lounged on the bed.

“Maybe we should take one together Catherine,” he said, relishing the opportunity to use her first name again.

“Tomorrow morning maybe,” she mused. She yawned loudly, “I set out to tire you out and all I’ve done is done it to myself…”

Samuel returned the yawn, “I think I could sleep now…” he muttered, gazing back at the cage.

She followed his look and chuckled, “Oh no,” she said, “You sleep in here from now on.” She parted her breasts and he looked down into the now familiar cavern. Without letting him get another word in the Queen lowered him in, adjusting herself so that he was firmly trapped. Satisfied that her human was both comfortable and immobile she turned on her side and rested her head on the pillow. Sleep came quickly.

…

It had been several weeks since Samuel had arrived at the Giant Queen’s castle, and things had settled in to a comfortable routine. He only did his “chores” a few days a week, the rest of the time he spent with the Queen as she conducted various meetings and affairs of state.

Marisa had been very understanding, “I think you’re earning your keep performing a different set of chores now,” she’d told him with a wink. Samuel got the sense that the Queen and Marisa were perhaps closer than merely employee and employer… what HAD Catherine told Marisa about him?

Today though the Queen was meeting with three other noble ladies for wine. Despite their high stations he’d quickly learned most of their meetings were as much gossip as politics, although sometimes the line seemed to blur, no doubt aided by Marisa’s dutiful refilling of each woman’s glass.

He was placed on a small cushion in front of the Queen, to be cooed over by the ladies as they enjoyed their wine.

“Samuel,” the youngest of the ladies called cheekily, “Would you fetch me a cherry?” The bowl was in the middle of the table, evidently giants had their own variety which grew to be the size of watermelons. He sighed and got up to bring it to her. She could easily get it herself, but the women seemed to enjoy the opportunity to ogle him.

“Do you like the new clothes we brought you?” Another woman asked, sharing a knowing glance with the Queen.

The clothes themselves were fairly inoffensive, the blue was a bit bright for his taste but other than that it wasn’t all that different from what the giant noblemen, or the human noblemen for that matter, would wear.

“I love them my lady,” he said politely, “They are umm… a bit tight in the back.”

“No I think they’re perfect,” The younger lady said, leering at him as he bent to pick up the cherry. The ladies burst into tipsy laughter at the joke, the Queen included.

“So anyways for my birthday this year-“ The queen began, then she stopped, “Samuel when is YOUR birthday?”

He shrugged, “Just after the summer solstice I suppose, this will be my twentieth summer.”

“Really?” one of the ladies mused, tracing a finger around the edge of her glass, “Have you considered growing a beard Samuel? It might make you look a bit more… distinguished.”

“Ugh no,” The Queen said as Samuel delivered the giant cherry, “Samuel face just wouldn’t look right with one, isn’t that right?”

“If you say so your majesty,” he chuckled.

“Well the NEW human king has a beard,” The older woman began again, “And he is DASHING,” she waved drunkenly at Samuel, “don’t get me wrong Samuel, is cute in a way where I want to smother him to death… but that new king of theirs? Ooof, sweep me off my feet handsome!”

“He’d need all the king’s horses and all the king’s men,” the younger woman mused.

“I’ll wait for him to gather whatever army he needs,” the older woman said, playfully fanning herself.

“He’s certainly an improvement over that other fellow they had,” Queen Catherine commented, “He’s begun negotiations to get the human prisoners returned home… I don’t think the last one cared in the slightest.”

“Does that mean we have to send our humans… home?” another woman, a bit plump with a coiffed blonde hairstyle, asked in a horrified tone.

“Some of them at least,” the queen sighed. “It’s going to be rough getting everyone to agree to it, but at least we should send the married ones back.”

“Forget that,” the older woman said defiantly, “send for their wives and families to come here!” The women all muttered in agreement.

“Now girls,” The queen said firmly, “We all want more friendly relations with the humans, and nobody wants more of them living here than me… this is a step towards that. It’s showing them we aren’t monsters.”

“And what about Samuel?” The younger woman asked aggressively, “Are you sending HIM back?”

Samuel watched as the queen stammered something about having not made a decision yet. He felt a pit form in his stomach…

Later, when the ladies had gone and it was just the two of them at the table, the queen looked down at him with a worried expression.

“Samuel,” she said softly, “The… path for some humans to return home has already been somewhat agreed to. If you want to… you could be among the first humans returned.”

He looked up at her and just laughed, she looked at him quizzically until eventually his mirth spread and she smiled with him.

“I’m staying Catherine,” he said finally, “I’m yours.”

She snatched him up and snuggled him into her cheek, “My little Samuel,” she sighed contentedly, “I’m going to love you forever!”