Gwyne had still felt her wriggling, though faintly, after she had washed her feet and come in. The innkeep would not allow her to enter back into the building with so much filth on her ("you look like you deliberately stomped in the mud!"), and so she had begrudgingly used the water bucket at the door to clean her feet and sandals off, their tiny passenger included. She had hoped to make the bug clean her foot off (either with rag and water or tongue, which would have delighted her), but there wasn't much left after, except between the toes. Maybe she'd make her clean between those, she thought, giving her digits a twitch and feeling the girl's tiny body barely respond. 

She drew a bit of water from the basin provided and got some cloth from her bag, tossing it into the bucket. She took off her sandals and let Litea roll out onto the floor, who slumped loosely and unceremoniously onto the hardwood. The girl wasn't moving, save for the light respirations that marked her as barely conscious. Had Gwyne been too rough, perhaps? 

Maybe, she thought. Maybe for a girl who just showed up suddenly in her dinner. 

That thought provoked her again and made her remember- the circumstances were just too suspicious to ignore. Perhaps the girl was just in her food by a very unfortunate accident. But was it likely? No.

Tired of waiting, Gwyne took the rag out of the bucket and threw it on the tiny mage. She jerked up instantly, gasping and sputtering haltingly. Gwyne took off the cloth, and watched as Litea tried to readjust herself and get her bearings. 

"So, bitty bug," she crooned over, causing Litea to jump and look terrifyingly up to the sky, "are you ready to tell me what you were really doing? Besides making a string of very bad decisions?"

Litea hovered just above unconsciousness, shivering from the freezing water dumped onto her. She stared at the towering knight dumbly and gaped at her. Gwyne frowned, feigning disappointment. 

"Too bad. I guess I'll have to think of some more ways to..." She placed a finger to her lip, "persuade you."

She began to reach for the girl, who scrambled to her feet and started to cower, when there was a faint knock at the door. Gwyne's eyes shut over to the portal, then back to Litea, who had done the same. The mage looked at the door, almost longingly, and the knight saw it. 

"Nuh uh," she growled, starting to reach for her. "I will very much step on you. In fact," she wrapped her fingers about the mage, "let's keep you away... Just in case." 

The second knock came on the door just after Gwyne had folded her boot leg in half and setting it to rest on the opening, trapping Litea inside. Gwyne hurried to the door and opened it, where an adorable old woman handed her a plateful of fare. 

Gwyne brought it to the table and felt her stomach rumble. She hadn't had breakfast, and so her stomach growled. Or course, that made her think about her... Er, guest. How long had it been since she had eaten? Since at least last night. 

Unless she got into my dried beef in my bag last night, she thought with a sour face. That stuff's expensive. If she did, I may just replace the loss with her...

No matter. She picked up stale heel of bread and took a bite, weighing her options. She knew she ought to feed the girl, give her some wine. She wanted her guest fresh and ready for fun, after all. Oh, and that whole not starving thing, either. She didn't want her to die, previous events notwithstanding. In fact, she hadn't decided, in truth, whether or not she was going to kill her. It would be easy. Crushed under boot, thrown to an animal. Her horse ate anything. Or, she thought, with a stir in her loins, she could eat her herself. She'd never eaten someone like her. Not even a pixie, if that's what she was indeed.

Still, she thought with a wicked smile, there ought to be some fun in this while she might have her.

She bit into the bread again, a mouthful to tide her over until after her planned game. She tore a mite off of the heel and set the rest down, trotting to where the folded boot was. 

When she dumped Litea out of her boot, the girl was still crying. She frowned at that- she couldn't well enjoy herself if she was going to cry the whole time. 

"Okay, little Litea," she said hovering over her on the bed. She sat down and placed her feet to flank either side of her. "I've got a feeling you're pretty hungry." She held the tear of bread up to her face. 

"You want this?"

The girl nodded meekly and Gwyne saw the lump come down her throat.

"Well then," smiling at her, "I'll give it to you. If, and only if, you can come up and get it."

The knight placed the piece of bread precariously in the crook between her shoulder and scapula, which twisted and writhed when she moved her white neck. 

"However, if you fall, or if you can't get up my shirt, you won't get your dinner. In fact, I may just..."

A wicked grin slashed her lips and she eyed the tiny woman wolfishly with her merciless sapphires. 

"Well... Just make sure you get it- how about we leave it at that?"

Litea nodded weakly and started to walk around the towering ped, digits still encrusted with dried and smelly mud. Gwyne barked at her, making her jump with fright. 

"Not around, little one... Up and over."

She wiggles her toes, making some of the dried mud fall off onto the sheets. Litea whimpered and doubled back, going over to where Gwyne's foot loomed over her, the calloused pads of her sole outlined in minute detail, the dirt and sweat creating a intricate drawing of the lines. Litea could see knots of wear on her heel and ball, and she idly wondered how many miles this foot had walked. 

She approached it reverentially, trying to figure out how to surmount it. Just as she figured she might not, it lowered slightly, the result of Gwyne pointing her toes downward, and the tops of her digits hovered just level with Litea's head.

"Here, that might help," came a giggle from above. 

Litea, her arms already weak from a couple's days exhaustive work and malnutrition, had trouble pulling herself up onto the wiggling tootsies. On her third try, Gwyne whipped her foot up, catapulting the tiny mage up and over, causing her to help cutely and land arms first onto the bony part of Gwyne's foot. Litea let out a frustrated moan, uncharacteristic of her behavior thus far, but Gwyne herself giggled and put a hand to her mouth coquettishly. 

"Sorry. Couldn't resist."

She watched the mage traverse her leg after brushing herself off, feeling the minute steps of this tiny thing pad across (somehow grudgingly) first her ankle, then shin, and knee. The mage occasionally looked up at her hostess/mistress, stealing glances from the woman who was, all at once looking at her with by a hint of malice- it was a childlike wonder, in fact, mixed with something... 'Lustish,' a look that Litea didn't like in the slightest. The faint curve of a smile riding up her lip, a shimmer in the eyes. It occurred to Litea that this woman may not be all evil... Or for that matter, predictable. She was enjoying this. 

And how she was.

Gwyne had relished the novelty of the woman (she decided that she probably wasn't one of the Fair Folk) walking across her- she felt absolutely enormous, and she toyed with the idea that, for here and now, she was Earthborn, and this little girl her charge. 

This idea was somewhat of a fulfillment- she remembered years ago the Great War that had threatened the whole world with destruction- she and her father were refugees, and crossed the Solarian Sea to a camp with the other's fleeing the city. The camp had not one, but two Earthborn, tall and gaunt and emaciated as they might be with hunger. She remembered, despite those terrifying times, the thrill she felt seeing men and women interact with those Giants. How they peeped about their feet and legs, were held in hands, and in the case of two very lucky ones, kissed and made love to. Since then, the idea had become a bit of an infatuation. 

She grinned widely at the woman, now crossing her ample thigh and trying to stay as centered as possible. She couldn't help herself- she chuckled wickedly and tilted her leg up, sending Litea screaming and sliding down the rough pants towards Gwyne's crotch. She laughed as she saw her cling desperately to stray strands, trying to pull herself up. 

"Hey," she said between laughs, "I thought you were hungry? Why aren't you still climbing?"

She bumped her leg again, sending Litea up with her legs flailing in the air. She cried out again.

"Or did you..." She feigned horror, her blue eyes wide and her mouth barely covered by a hand, "did you you think you could skip straight to my dessert?" She clicked her tongue with disapproval, eyeing Litea and the between-legs part of her ware (already slightly moistened) back and forth. 

"I'm pretty selective about who eats at that buffet... And you yourself might still be eaten!"

She shivered at Litea's sudden trembling. How amazing was this power! To cause so much pain with just words.

"Now then, why don't you just keep going? You have to finish your dinner before you have your dessert, young lady..."

She allowed her leg to flatten and Litea stabilize her grip. She watched her slowly pull herself up. 

"If you can even get to your dinner, that is."

Litea continued on with an abundance of caution. She made sure to give herself plenty of space while traversing up to the woman's shirt, and grabbed tightly to the rough spun garment when she did arrive to it. 

Gwyne had to tilt her head slightly to see past her breast. Her prisoner had taken to gripping in between the strands and finding footholds where she might. Up she climbed, taking her sweet time, all the while Gwyne getting not bored, but perhaps eager. Her endurance was admirable- Gwyne had gone before two days without food or drink, and she had nearly passed out. Still, that prompted the thought- what was indeed driving her? Why hadn't she just fessed up and made it a lot easier on herself? Gwyne probably would've just given her back to her employer in the end, and would've been on her way. 

A sonorous growl brought Gwyne back, and she felt the insides of her quake. She peeked back down at Litea and saw the girl dead frozen with a fear in her eyes. Gwyne moaned, satisfied, and waited until she looked up to lick her lips slowly, dragging the pink muscle across the soft pillows of her lips, whetting them with a thin sheen of saliva. 

"Hurry up now... You're not the only one who's hungry! In fact..." She placed a cupped hand over Litea and stood up from the bed. She felt the girl scream and fall onto her pinky, her tiny thin arms groping around her skin, trying to find a handhold. 

She chuckled and stood straight up, slowly letting the light trickle in and seeing her eyes peep up at her. 

"Hello again. Now, how about a little wager? I'm getting hungry and a little impatient, so let's raise the stakes- I'm going to let you hold on to me, as tight as you can- and I'm going to do some jumps. Some big ones- but don't worry, I'll give you a few seconds to really hang on. Sound okay?"

The tiny girl immediately redoubled her grip, wrapping the fibers around her hands and sticking her boots in and doing the same. 

"And again, the stakes are raised, so... If you don't fall, I'll let you eat as much as you need. By the gods, I'll let you go. You'll be free. I'll take you to wherever you want to. However, if you lose..." She looked past Litea at the hardwood floor below, her feet pigeon-toed, and then back at the girl. "Well... If you fall, and you're still alive, I'll just crush your head before I eat you. Waste not want not, right?"

She chuckled as she felt the woman shake, her belly laughs bouncing her prey off her at each sound. Boing boing boing. 

"You ready?"

Without waiting for an answer, Gwyne leapt high into the air, her arms flung up as high as she could. Both felt themselves lift off the ground, Gwyne the familiar sense of jumping and Litea that terrifying feeling of freefall. They came down with a thunderous crash, Gwyne's bare feet pounding onto the rickety floorboards, her shirt with its cargo barely stretching as she landed- with no elasticity, the motion was translated in full. 

Litea felt, the bike rising in her throat, her foothold loosen just a little.

Again Gwyne jumped, and again. And again. Up and down, she lifted herself into the air with practiced athleticism, each time, Litea's grip loosening just a little. On the eighth jump, it was too much- he made the mistake of opening her hand right as Gwyne landed, knocking her off and sending her careening down. She flailed desperately, screaming, to get another purchase but to no avail- her other hand followed suit, then one of her feet, and on the tenth jump she hung precipitously by her left leg. She screamed bloody murder as she felt herself rise up again, the thoughts of a gruesome death filling her mind with unabated fear. She was going to die, she knew, in that limbo-like freefall, and everything else before, every Gwyne-related peril, seemed to be so... Filled with hope then, in painful retrospective clarity. Gwyne landed, Litea's foothold broke, and she fell... 

Right into a calloused palm.

"Gotcha!" 

Litea's stomach lurched up, right along with her body, as she was lifted to Gwyne's expansive and smiling face. Litea had just enough time to think about how blue her eyes were when the rest of her stomach caught up with her, and the bile rise in her throat. She scrambled, haphazardly, to the edge of the hand, where she let issue a watery, heaving retch. Fear expelling itself from her already dehydrated body. Gwyne watched the spectacle and frowned.

"That's gross. Thanks for not doing it in my hand, I guess. It's too bad, though," she produced the bite of bread, and popped it into her mouth, chewing and making a big show of it. "You don't get dinner, since you lost."

Litea looked up at Gwyne with her brown eyes, and began then, to sob. Deep, painful, lurching sobs. No tears came out- no water left. Her cries continued, even after Gwyne had swallowed the morsel down. But then, she realized, Litea was trying to say something between breaths.

"What was that?"

A sputtering cough and inhale.

"I said," she croaked, "just do it already... Just kill me. I don't want to live anymore."

An outsider, were they in the room, might have said that something in Gwyne's face changed. The years of war had etched onto her once girlish face naught but two- anger and joy. Anger at her enemy, self, comrades, and joy at her pleasure, bloodlust, or sadism. But sadness? One might not even be able to recognize it even if it ever did cross her face. In this case, with was simply a stone stare and a hard swallow.

"Are you really so eager to die? I could do it y'know."

"You keep saying that... But you don't. Please, just get it over with."

A pause. "You're right. I guess..."

She frowned, looking down the side, away from the tiny girl in her palm. She felt just a little bit more weighty in her hand.

"I guess..." She reached up and scratched her nose while looking back up at her. "Well. Do you want something to eat?"

-----------------------------------------

Gwyne had finished her portion long before Litea did. She sat there, sipping timidly at a cup of wine, watching this girl devour handful after handful of her shared bread, carrot, and honeyed capon. Every now and then, Litea would stop and sway, and then take very large drink of water (provided in a thimble by Gwyne). Gwyne thought about how hungry she was, and felt just the smallest tang of pity. Not remorse, she supposed- just pity. Pity that she was in this situation. Still, Litea's crime was unknown to her, and despite all her pleadings and proddings, she was no closer to knowing. Perhaps if she tried reason. It might calm the girl down enough. 

"So, little one..." Gwyne said, setting her stone cup down. "Let's talk."

Litea wiped her mouth with the back of a dirty sleeve. 

"About what?"

Gwyne smirked, rolling her eyes. 

"You know damned well what- don't act stupid." She felt we anger flare up and pushed it back down, letting it dissipate. "Listen, what I did was out of... You being uncooperative." She leaned over and set her elbows on the table. "Granted, I suppose I was quick to... Refer you to my stomach the first time we met, but I was mad. And I guess maybe..." 

She twisted her lips, as if her face was helping her choose her next words. She huffed.

"Well. You know, Litea..." She picked the girl up by her tunic, the same dull woolen one she had donned at the start of this ill fated journey, swinging her perilously away up to her face. Litea dropped the food from her hands and swallowed her last quick bite.

"I'm getting really tired of this. I'm getting tired of you, frankly, your stubbornness and your refusal to talk. Don't you you think..."

She brought the mage to rest on her nose, her blue eyes crossing to see. Litea quivered under that gaze. 

"...that it would be easier just to tell me?" The vibration shook her and made her yelp. Gwyne let go of the girl and she slid down, screaming, into the waiting hand of her captor. The blonde giantess laughed, amused. She took another draft of her wine, her eyes never breaking with the girl.

"I mean, I hardly believe that anything you say could get you into a deeper hole than this... Right?"

She looked down at the girl in her palm, who trembled. Gwyne watched her as she shook, her own stomach churning from the excitement. She had felt powerful before, God-like even on the battlefield... But this was something else entirely. 

Litea, herself trying desperately to find a way to escape, averted her eyes when Gwyne had made her observation, capped with a confirmation- a bad mistake. The cast down eyes did not go unnoticed by Gwyne. She widened her eyes and leaned her head in closer, her long locks drifting forward and covering her face and a bit of the palm. 

"Unless, of course..." 

Gwyne shifted her legs from the chair and pushed off, walking towards the the bed's nightstand. With her free hand she picked up the dagger by the hilt and flicked the hilt off, revealing the near-luminescent blade she kept razor sharp. The girl in her hand, kept ever steady by Gwyne, started to whimper.

"There IS something else that would get you deeper..."

The palm lifted, and Litea was brought shivering to her face. The girl had sat down and made herself into a ball. 

"Please, Gwyne, I beg you... Just let me go..." Her voice quaked and tears streamed down her eyes. "I'll leave you alone, I s-s-swear."

Gwyne shook her head slowly. 

"You need to tell me. Now." Gwyne closed her hand around the girl and walked over to the table, her footsteps never sounding so loud to either of them. She tossed Litea onto the table, who landed with a thud and rolled off, her mewls increasing. Gwyne pulled up her chair then, dragging it across with a horrid screech and sitting down heavily into it. It creaked, years of usage. She put the knife blade down onto its tip, her fingers at the butt of the handle, spinning it and twisting it. It dug into the warped table. Her anger came flaring back in all its fury. 

"Litea, I'm gonna make this really simple." She swallowed and pushed a lock of her blonde back. "You're a bug. I'm big. Bigger than you, at least. I can do," she said, pulling the knife up and flicking it around her fingers, "anything I want to you. Now, that in mind," she said, her voice lilting, "you are going to tell me exactly why you were near me last night, and why you're small, and why in the many hells you're hiding something. You're going to do this," Gwyne lifted the blade and held the very top of it on Litea's minuscule cheek, "or I will fillet and roast you alive." 

Litea felt her tears stream down and wash the tip of the blade, sharp even this close up. 

"So what'll it be?"

The silence hung on the air, and Litea felt that white hot indecision tear her stomach in half. She thought about, in that horrifying few seconds, everything that would or would not happen to her- she knew Gwyne was dead serious, but then again, she had been dead serious that first night she almost ate her and decided not to. Whereas Litea telling her the true intent of her actions... That most assuredly bring death. 

It was guaranteed death versus only slightly less chance of death. 

Slowly, resolutely, with her barely holding her urine in for fear, she shook her head. 

Gwyne felt the wind go out of her. She screwed up her face and snarled silently, shaking her own head in disgust. 

"You're an idiot. You godsdamned stupid girl."

When Gwyne flipped her over, Litea began to scream- ugly, howling noises that one might hear in the wild, a deer crying as the lion begins to eat her alive.

"No, noooo!"

Gwyne pinned her to the table with her thumb and forefinger, by the head and legs respectively, pressing her painfully to the wooden table. Litea's arms flailed uselessly at the huge fingers that held her down, her tears again flowing and letting her bladder run. 

"No, please, gods no!"

Again Litea pressed up, trying to wriggle free of the grasp, but stopped immediately when she felt the knife's tip pierce her clothing and barely break skin. Just like that, all the bravado and foolish courage melted out of her, the unimaginable edge of death just inches away. 

"Okay, oh gods, please! I'll tell you! I'll tell you!" She squealed. "My na, my name is Litea of house Avernhill!"

The blade stopped. 

"My... My..."

"Go on." The startlingly huge voice booming from above. 

"My brother was killed by you! At the battle of Amon Ursa... You killed him, and I came to kill you!"

"What?!"

"I... I was going to shrink you down during the battle and let.... Oh gods...   Let someone else kill you, crush you, or... Whatever. I'm sorry, okay? I'm sorry! Please, please, don't... Don't kill me! Please, for the love of the gods-"

"Shut up!" Gwyne barked. 

She did. Litea shook and shivered, her body doing so on its own with the flood of adrenaline pumping through her. The two fingers held her still. She waited, waited for what seemed an eternity. Finally, with a sharp inhale of relief, she felt the cold blade leave her skin, followed by a slow trickle of blood. 

Gwyne above her uttered a irritated sigh, and she slammed the knife tip first into the wood of the table, causing Litea to yelp. She them yanked, yanked, Litea up and held her a few inches from her face.

She scowled at her and glared through her two lapis lazuli eyes. She bit her lip, possibly in consternation. Finally, with a deep breath, said, 

"I killed your brother."

Litea waited before she realized that it wasn't a statement. 

"Yes," she squeaked, small as a mouse. 

"And you want revenge."

She blushed as she said it. 

"Yes..."

Gwyne sighed loudly and rubbed her eyes with her free hand. She looked suddenly very tired, gone the mirth of this morning. 

"Uh huh..."

She then gave a look at Litea something like... Well, she didn't know. Something maybe like guilt and anger and sadness and hate and joy all at once. But instead of doing any action that would be pursuant to any of those emotions, she instead simply stood up from her chair, causing Litea to grab on to her two fingers. 

"Listen, kid... I'm gonna put you away for a while."

Litea piped up, the sudden question springing to her mind. 

"Are... Are you going to kill me?" She dared to ask.

Gwyne said nothing, but instead walked to where her boot was. He picked it up, and opened the mouth of it, hanging Litea there right above- but then, she stopped.

"I haven't decided yet."

And in she dropped her, and the last thing Litea saw was the only black growing as Gwyne folded the boot in half.