The Scrumping Giant

Ophelia sat up in her bed, startled awake by the distant snap of branches in the orchard. The sound was faint, but the  distinct noise set her heart-rate aflutter once more.

“He’s back.” She breathed, shooting a furtive glance at the crack beneath her door as she rose from her mattress as slowly as possible, hoping to  avoid any squeak of coiled springs. Silent as the wind whispering  through her open window, Ophelia shed her night gown and set about  donning the bare minimum clothes required to look at least somewhat  presentable.

Fabric rustled about her shoulders as she clasped her favourite travelling  cloak into place. The Blackwood family crest glinted in the moonlight  streaming down through the gaps in the rolling clouds above. Bending  over to scoop up her travelling bag, she caught a glimpse of herself in  her mirror in that moment, the sight causing her resolve to slip.

As much as Ophelia longed to make a good first impression, she simply couldn’t reconcile the idea with the snowy-skinned woman staring back at  her. It wasn’t simply the blue tinge of the lunar glare that gave her  such a deathly pallor; she had always been that way. Perhaps one could  overlook the jet black curtain of hair that contrasted so sharply with  her impossibly white skin. Perhaps she could pass off the perpetual  shade of deep, almost midnight blue of her lips as some sort of cosmetic  choice, maybe.

But there was no passing off the bloody rings of deep crimson that served as  her eyes. It was a monstrous visage, unbecoming of the daughter of such  a prestigious household – unbecoming of any young woman with even a  faint hope of finding a respectable suitor to wed and call her own. Not  that it prevented noblemen from calling to court her; the wealth and  status of the Blackwood name was too great a prize to let such aesthetic  faults stand in the way.

And perhaps if a single one of them had done anything to make Ophelia feel  like she wasn’t an abhorrent creature that belonged in horrifying  children’s folk-tales, she may well have accepted them.

Clunk.

Ophelia’s heart froze as she pulled the window open a few precious inches,  sending the candle she had forgotten to remove tumbling onto its side.  Her gaze snapped around to the door, the pair of shadows standing guard  moving in response to the sound.

Casting herself swiftly under the covers of her bed, Ophelia pulled her  blankets up to her nose and clamped her eyes tight shut. She could feel  the gaze of the knight upon her, see the polished steel of his  face-plate in her mind’s eye floating as an inky black silhouette framed  by the torchlight beyond.

The door slid shut.

Ophelia returned to the window, setting the candle aside this time as she  opened it fully. One all-too-familiar descent down the cobblestones of  the manor walls and she was off towards the orchards. Above, she could  see the shapes of birds circling nervously in the sky.

He was still there.

Sounds of heavy, careful breathing reached Ophelia’s ears as she picked her  way through the orchard, cautious all the while to watch where she set  her feet. One slip of an apple, one snap of a twig underfoot, and he  would flee once more; Ophelia didn’t know how many more chances she  would have after this.

Her heart jumped into her throat as she saw him through the gaps of the  trees ahead, his silhouette unmistakable amidst the looming apple trees.  A hand almost the size of a grown man reached into the branches of the  tree above, moving with astounding care between the twigs and leaves to  pluck a single apple from its stem. Ophelia clung to the trunk of the  nearest tree, pressed up to its bark like a lizard as she watched him  move with far more care than one would expect of something so large.

He was flat on his back, nestled in the gaps of the trees; one hand held  open a crudely woven basket, whilst the other picked apples one at a  time as swiftly and carefully as possible. Ophelia’s lips parted in awe.  The giant was so, so much bigger than she had imagined. She had  believed that he could be no taller than the trees of the orchard  itself, when in reality he would be twice their size if he stood at his  full height.

There was nothing especially handsome or rakish about his face, though he was  certainly not an ugly creature; Ophelia had seen boys working the farms  who may well have been some distant relation. In the absence of any  known observation his expression was nothing short of comical. A single  eye squinted while the other gauged distance in the darkness, his nose  wrinkled in concentration while his tongue protruded from between his  lips, flitting about seemingly at random in response to his focus.

High above, the churning clouds split apart long enough for moonlight to  stream into the orchard, lighting up the scene in wintery clarity. The  giant’s focus shifted from the apples as he glanced about himself, his  gaze falling at last on Ophelia. Her heart pounded against her rib-cage  with a lurch as she realized she had stepped right out from behind her  tree, one hand clutched to her chest with the other trembling at her  side.

A sharp intake  of breath from the giant preceded a sudden jerking motion as he lurched  onto his side, colliding with one of the trees in a shaking rattle that  sent several dozen apples tumbling down onto his head. Stuffing as many  of the fruits as he could into his basket, the giant rose to a crouch  as he shuffled awkwardly backwards.

“Wait! Wait!” Ophelia said, thrusting out a beseeching hand and speaking with apologetic desperation. “Please don’t go!”

The giant halted in his tracks, peering warily at her from the shadows  beneath one of the apple trees. His free hand was hanging at his side,  fingers the thickness of a soldier’s arm sat partially flexed. Ophelia  was acutely aware that if the inclination took him, he could have  crushed her in a single squeeze, snapped her like a toothpick or plucked  the head clean off her shoulders if he so desired.

Dispelling such notions from her mind, Ophelia took another tentative step forwards, keeping her hands clearly visible.

“My name is Ophelia, I mean you no harm; in fact, I have something for  you.” She spoke, sinking to her knees peaceably and setting her bag down  before her. The giant watched silently, his expression invisible in the  darkness.

From the folds of her bag, Ophelia produced what had originally been an apple  pie. Though it had been large and hot on its creation, two days spent  wrapped up in a travel bag had rendered it rather cracked and cold, not  to mention partially squashed. If Ophelia had been capable of blushing,  she would be.

“I’m…  sorry, it’s not very good, b-but I’m sure it will taste delicious!” She  held up the pie in both hands, trying not to shake with raw nerves as  she watched the looming shadow with baited breath.

For a time the giant remained still, glancing between Ophelia and the pie.

“That’s for me?” Ophelia nearly jumped out of her skin as the low, rumbling  voice rang in her ears. The giant clearly intended it as a whisper, but  even his quietest tone was still enough for Ophelia to feel it in her  chest.

“Yes, yes! It  is an apple pie, I baked it myself. You always come to the orchards you  see, so I thought you must really like apples; I thought it would be a  nice surprise. Though,” she added, her confidence taking a slight blow  as she looked more closely at the pie, “it might, in retrospect, be a  little small for you.”

The  lumbering figure shuffled back towards Ophelia, walking at a low crouch  so that his head did not rise above the tops of the trees. His  expression as he entered the light of the moon was curious, if a little  wary.

“Ophelia?” He  asked for clarification as he stood crouched before her. “I am Lump.”  He too knelt down, settling onto his heels as he cleared his throat  awkwardly.

“Yes  indeed; it is a pleasure to meet you, Lump.” Ophelia replied, relief in  her tone. This was going well already, much better than she’d expected.  Sitting up a little further, Ophelia leaned forward to bring the pie a  little closer to Lump.

The giant accepted it carefully, clearly trying his best to be polite as  Ophelia set her gift down in the rough palm of his hand. Once she was  back in place, Lump lifted the little article of food to his mouth,  sniffing it warily before he set it on his tongue. Ophelia watched in  anticipation as his lips closed around it, chewing and munching  experimentally.

His eyes lit up.

“Thank you, Ophelia.” He rumbled, his voice stilted as though he was not  overly familiar with speaking. “I have never tasted apples this good;  what tree do they fall from?”

Ophelia had to stifle a laugh as she grinned joyfully.

“It is more than just apples; it has cinnamon and pastry and all sorts of  things. If you like, I can bake more for you. Will you come back again  tomorrow?”

Lump considered the question.

“Why does Ophelia bake for me?”

Ophelia’s heart skittered as she thought about how to answer him.

“Because I would like to get to know you, Lump. I would like to spend more time with you, and learn more about you.”

A low hum escaped the giant’s throat as he thought about it.

“You  are strange.” He decided, though there wasn’t a trace of judgement in  his voice. “Most humans are afraid I will eat them. Humans do not  normally want to get close to me.”

“I understand, honestly, I do.” Ophelia replied, her tone rueful. “Not so  much the ‘eating’ part, but… wait…” She paused, looking up at Lump  cautiously as though she were concerned about potentially offending him.  “…do you eat people?”

“Most giants eat humans; I do not. I am not fond of apples, but apples do not make me sad to eat.”

Ophelia’s very spirit yearned to throw her arms about Lump’s shoulders and hug  him, but she was doing her best to be proper. All the same, she rose  slowly to her feet and offered her hand to Lump.

“Then, will you come back again tomorrow?”

Lump’s  nose wrinkled in concentration as he looked at Ophelia, the beginnings  of a smile on his face as he let the idea sink in.

“I-“

Thunk.

An arrow stuck itself in the giant’s bicep. It was barely the size of a  thorn to the enormous figure, but he winced in pain all the same as he  threw himself backwards, crashing into one of the trees. Ophelia’s mouth  dropped open in dismay, dread in her stomach.

“The watchman was right; that scrumping monster is back!”

“Yes, he’s over here! I found him! He has Lady Blackwood!”

“LEAVE YOUR FILTHY HANDS OFF HER YOU BRUTE!”

A swarm of the estate guards hurtled through the orchard, weapons  gleaming in the lunar rays as Lump’s expression twisted to fearful  horror. He lurched to his full height, the ground quaking beneath him as  he turned to run.

“NO!” Ophelia cried, her voice cracking as she stood, throwing her hands out  pleadingly at the knights. “Leave him alone! He’s not-” They ignored  her, the front-most knight taking her outstretched hand and pulling her  protectively behind him.

Branches snapped amidst thundering footsteps as the giant lumbered away, arrows peppering his back to mark his retreat.

Ophelia’s  red eyes brimmed with tears as she wept, the knights vanishing into the  darkness after Lump, leaving in their wake nothing but the smeared and  spoiled remains of squashed apples.