It Begins With a Smile

This was my entry for the quarterly SizeRiot contests – specifically GiantJuly19 – organized by AborigenGTS. I was pretty surprised with how good it did, personally. It managed to entice the readers of that contest enough to name it one of the most attractive/arousing of the entire lot.

Link to SizeRiot

Link to GiantJuly19 Stories

This version of the story has about an extra 270 words, and a lot more editing, and hopefully it conveys each characters’ circumstances a bit more.

If you’re interested in the original story that complied with the word limit, and how incredibly haphazard my editing for that one was, please click the above link to find it. There are some fantastic stories in that collection, and it makes me glad to see giant men explored.

I remember thinking I wanted to put a little spin on the topic for that month, which was the idea of a “First Date”. It didn’t take long to brainstorm the idea, which is good because I think I wrote it all in around 5-6 hours of non-stop, frantic writing.

One thing I recall I especially enjoyed with this story was describing how absolutely smitten both the main characters are from the start, because you know what, first impressions are important. Like the title says, a lot of times it really does just begin with a smile. And despite the overwhelming physical disparity between the two, I wanted to place the two on something of a level playing field somehow: Talos with his relative isolation, and Lynd with his fascination.

Content Warning: giant man, tiny/shrunken man, gentle, M/m, brief F/m interaction, NSFW, mentions of past violence

Estimated Reading Time: 11 minutes

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Despite the circumstances of his predicament, Lynd could admit the grounds were gorgeous. They stretched beyond his sight; the borders obscured by distance and fading into blurs as his eyes watered from trying to take it all in. The expanse of the royals’ lands was breathtaking.

In another life Lynd would’ve loved to capture the view on a canvas. Without all the jostling and haphazard bumping of his transportation.

Said transport, a low-class servant judging from her drab gray dress, cupped him closer to her body as she traversed over a vast canyon which to her probably counted as a stream. Lynd winced as his ears popped from the change in elevation.

Finally, after being thrown around in the cage that was her palm, the servant stopped. Precious seconds of peace.

There was an expectant air, followed by a hum. That hum culminated in an offended huff after a few moments of no response.

“Sir, your guest has arrived.”

Lynd frowned and tried to force the servant’s hand open so he could see his host. Her grip, dainty as her fingers seemed, was unbreakable.

A soft baritone voice chuckled. “You can let him down, Marisol.”

Lynd’s breath burst from his lungs as the servant pressed him closer to her dress and pivoted, as if to shield him from the speaker.

“I won’t harm our little guest, my dear.” The words were gentle, but the tone was warning. “But I won’t repeat myself a second time. Put him down.”

What followed was more akin to thunder than any human sound Lynd ever heard. It ran through Marisol’s body like the promise of a hurricane on the horizon. After a second of hesitation she released Lynd from against her mud-stained dress. Then the hands that were his cage lifted him up and unfurled, gentler than a spring flower on the precipice of bloom.

Lynd squinted against the onset of light and noise, grateful for the reprieve. When his vision cleared, he saw something even more astonishing than the mountain ranges and valleys that served as the garden they now stood in.

A giant three- no, four times larger than Marisol. Whereas the servant woman was casually enormous compared to Lynd, this man was vast. Anything short of superlatives would do him a disservice. 

With hair like captured midnight, and the sharply cut cheeks of his bloodline, the giant rose from his lying position and propped himself up on both hands.

“Well met, Prince Lynd,” the giant purred.

Lynd swore. That immense size… there was no one else it could be.

Talos’ stare was beatific as he locked stares with Lynd. The royal court’s infamous bastard prince was a standard human in appearance: he had the same general shape – a head, a body, and all the associated limbs – but whether by sheer size or simple aesthetics Talos’ form, propped up on arms thicker than the largest of tree trunks back home, demanded attention.

Talos’ lips pulled back in coquettish amusement. “Judging by your reaction, I suppose this arrangement was sprung on you as well?”

Lynd floundered, trying to find the right words amidst the rising sea of inspiration that threatened to overcome him. 

By the empty sky, no one had ever told him Talos was gorgeous in addition to heart-stoppingly massive.

“Prince Lynd?”

After a few more seconds of his tongue stuck in his throat, Lynd recovered and said, “It wasn’t sprung on me so much as I was thrown into it. By catapult.”

Talos blinked, and then threw his head back, laughing. His voice was thunderous and deafening, and it felt less like a man’s laugh than a force of nature’s. The closest sound Lynd could compare it to was his stepfather’s favored war drums.

He was just glad he’d thought to grab some wax from his stores and stuff it into his ears before his stepfather, the king, ordered him to leave posthaste.

“Come, come, join me!” Talos patted his bare chest, burned bronze with the blessings of a life unconstrained by walls or darkness. “There’s plenty of me to spare!”

The woman holding Lynd twitched at the statement. “Sir, I must insist-”

“Marisol, you’re still here?” Talos interrupted, his smile as white and blinding as the sun. “Do you wish to keep me company during an official function again?”

For all her attempts at composure, Lynd was in a prime position to see her reaction. He turned and saw Marisol glance down the length of Talos’ body and stare at the loincloth covering the mass of something immense. Luminous pink crawled up from her neckline as she stiffened at the suggestion.

“Forgive me, Milord,” Marisol muttered, bowing her head. In a low breath, she added, “Brute.”

Talos moved. 

A split-second heartbeat of terror for Marisol tore through Lynd and he flinched awaiting the giant’s response and-

Marisol squeaked and Lynd’s world was thrown askew as she clutched at him. Scrambling, Lynd reoriented himself and stared up at the giant’s outstretched hand which was… cupping Marisol’s face?

“I heard that,” Talos chided, smiling softly. He let go of her face, reverting to his lounging position. “Now, why don’t you run along now before someone important thinks you care for this brute.”

Marisol placed Lynd on the edge of Talos’ abdomen, clearly reluctant. She fussed over him for a second before Talos cleared his throat, eliciting a girlish eep from the servant. He dismissed her with a gruff grunt and a swiping gesture that, back in Lynd’s homeland, would have toppled a good section of a forest.

“She’s protective of your kind, our Mari,” Talos said as he and Lynd stared after the woman, disappearing over the bridged ravine. It was impossible not to notice how alive the surface he stood on was. “And around me especially. Sadly, I can’t say it’s not without good reason.”

Lynd tried to pin down why his heart was lurching in his chest. It currently resided somewhere in the valley of petrifying terror and dazzling enchantment.

He forced himself to swallow and reply, even as he started walking along the rippling surface of Talos’ midriff. “Her concern is why this is happening. Who’d have thought our kingdoms would ever entertain peace? Though, having the Butcher of the Plains be the emissary…”

“Ludicrous, no?” Talos relinquished his sitting position and laid back down, arm under his head. Lynd threw himself against him so as to not fall off. It was like the earth was alive and, even worse, feeling playful. “Almost as insane as sending the youngest of the Blessed Seven to meet said Butcher for the opening talks. No retinue in sight.”

He raised a good point. Lynd’s stepfather had set him up.

Talos raised an outstretched hand to the sky. Lynd traced the lines of the man’s arm in his mind’s eye. There was so much to capture. Too much. He’d need a lifetime to ingrain all of the man’s body respectfully, without insulting the masterpiece. Talos was the perfect blend of softness of the human condition combined with the angular rigidity of a warrior.

There he went, sinking into his thoughts. Despite the clear and present danger of the most infamous monster of recent years, Lynd kept getting distracted. At this rate his heart would prove more dangerous to himself than Talos.

“My family won’t be happy to learn you were appointed as emissary,” Lynd warned. “They won’t abide the insult.”

“And mine will be all the happier for it,” Talos sighed. He blew a lock of hair out of his eyes, and propped a hand behind his head to look down at Lynd, who was navigating the treacherous and warm terrain that was his host’s chest. “Last I knew, you had no formal training beyond some tutoring in Magicks.”

He let the unspoken question hang, even as Lynd climbed up the trough between Talos’ pectorals. Every step was coiling, tense, but he gained confidence with every inch of progress.

When he finally reached the Talos’ collarbone, Lynd looked up. Talos was focusing on him with an intense expression that would have singed a human. As it was, it stunned Lynd into gaping at the man’s beautiful features, eyes like almonds and the color of dark chocolate, before he regained his senses.

The mention of Magick brought memories of fractured friendships and lost dreams. He’d always been a poor student. “My talents lie elsewhere than the arcane.”

“Don’t suppose it would be diplomacy?” Without even checking to see if it was okay, Talos brought his immense hand up to Lynd, and brushed him with a graze of his fingers. Lynd, in turn, tumbled down the vast angled cliff he’d just climbed, coming to a stop in the amphitheater formed by Talos’ raised legs and his abdomen. Talos continued, unfazed by Lynd’s fall. “Did your king purposefully send his most inexperienced and least valuable prince to wreak havoc on these peace talks?”

“Just important enough to die, but not useful enough to live,” Lynd repeated the phrase he overheard around the kitchens whenever he left his room for some snacks. “Such is the fate of the sparest of heirs. Unwanted by the crown, unknown to the people.”

Talos stilled, conflict fleeting across his face before he resumed his normal insouciance. “They expect me to kill you.”

“They expect someone to kill me, not necessarily you.” Lynd wasn’t sure why but he had to make sure Talos understood the distinction. He wasn’t what Lynd had expected. He was calmer, for one. Magnificent, for another. “I imagine they’d be surprised your maid didn’t crush me on sight.”

“Marisol is a gentle woman,” Talos offered. “She’s mouthy, and oversteps her bounds half the time, but she is one of the few able to come near me without running in terror. She would never hurt another soul.”

It seemed he was done laying down, because soon Lynd was rolling and struggling to right himself as Talos lifted, rising into a proper sitting position, bent legs spread. Lynd had lived through earthquakes more peaceful than Talos rising, but the experience was infinitely more exhilarating. What kind of change could a being like Talos enact if they so wished? Not with magic, not with steel, but pure physical power.

“It would seem then we’re at an impasse,” Lynd said at last, stopping his vantage search to admire the hard lines and creases in Talos’ skin. The loincloth rested loosely between Talos’ thighs, but there was no mistaking the mind-numbing heat that emanated from beneath the covering. “My people and your people both wish to sabotage these peace talks, and yet here we are, both absolutely miserable at it.”

Talos’ chest rumbled with assent. “Truly, we are terrible negotiators. What say you to a truce?”

“A truce within a truce?”

“An actual truce. My father thinks himself the grand politicker, and me the brutish warrior. Naturally, I take umbrage with his opinion of me.” Carefully, deliberately, Talos spread his legs further apart. Both ends of the loincloth now draped over his mammoth member. “And clearly there is more to me than you expected.”

Lynd’s eyes fixed on Talos’ risen cock, barely hidden by the cloth anymore. He couldn’t resist the urge to be cheeky. “A lot more.”

Talos laughed. “Oh, I like you! Most people are afraid when they see me at my proudest. But you! You only see a summit to climb!”

It was dangerous, how much his praise stoked feelings Lynd long thought lost to him. Pride. Giddiness. Lust.

“But still, what say you? Wouldn’t a sunset without war be kind for once?” Talos’ expression turned melancholic as he looked out at the sun on the horizon. “I tire of bloodshed, my dear prince. So very much. These talks… they could change things. For real.”

“I-” Lynd hesitated. It was ludicrous. He understood what Talos was hinting at, how could he not, but as enticing as an indulgent bacchanalia sounded, he had something to say. One burning wish, taking up space in his chest. “Before I agree to this, I’d like to make a request.”

That piqued Talos’ interest. He was massive and encompassing on all sides, his sheer scent and presence effusing Lynd’s own logical and restrained compulsions.

“Before I leave, before I go back and report our…. success, I’d like to do one thing.”

Talos face was massive. Lynd would need days just to capture the outlines of his features. “Do tell, little prince.”

“I want to paint you.”

Confusion and then shock graced the man’s features. For the first time, true vulnerability lingered in the air. “That is a most unusual request.”

The tension remained. Lynd shrugged helplessly. “I’m an unusual person.”

“You’re a very small person,” Talos teased. He was dodging the question. “What are you? About the width of my finger? So much courage in such a small body.”

One of Talos’ fingers brushed down, and knocked Lynd on his back, but instead of offense, he couldn’t help the bubbling of laughter rising in his chest. He bravely batted the giant’s probing digit away and stared up at his newest compatriot in uncharacteristic challenge. “Well? What say you, Talos?”

“Any attempt worth the effort would take weeks, months even.” Talos warned, but he didn’t sound discouraged. Only exultant.

“Then it’s a good thing our people have so many troubles to address, I expect we will need to meet many times in the coming months.” Lynd stood, emboldened by Talos’ presence and his own intoxicating aura. “We have to be thorough, after all.”

“Thorough,” Talos repeated slowly, before the curl of a grin appeared once more. “Of course. Thorough.”