ficpost: "Know, That is to Say, Yes" Fridwulfa
Title: Know, That is to Say, Yes
Fandom: Harry Potter
Featured Characters: Fridwulfa, Hagrid Sr
Do They (Want To) Have Sex (With Each Other)? As per canon?
Spoilers: Through Order of the Phoenix
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: JKR, Scholastic, etc.
Notes: Written for a hogwarts_elite challenge, reposted here for the first time.
Summary: Giants know.
Word Count: 639
Know, That is to Say, Yes
Giants know. Giants know. Giants know.
Giants know slow thinking slowly.
Know it well.
Giants know caves.
Caves. Vast and round and endless, giants know. Giants born from caves return to caves to know when sensing overwhelms outside the caves. Giants retreat to origins.
Giants know giants, dimly, from the grasping terrain of terrible height. They see stonily, giants. They see giants.
Giants know patterns, giants know, after endless repetition more times than giants can count, giants know: myself, and not-myself, the things that are larger than I, and the small. There are many small.
The small are too many to count, too many to remember, too many to name. They are easier when they are silent. The complicated, invisible buzz of the small can intrude on a giant and her knowing, internal, cavernous.
The small intrudes. He pokes and intrudes, prods and intrudes, buzzes words that are not words at the edges of her knowing. It is easier to crush into dust the intrusions, as she did with the other small, the other giants, whose bones she wears as reminders of their silence. She lets out a roar that is the beginning of the silencing, but the small stops her. It holds another small, then... it larges it. The small becomes a large, a boulder. The giants knows boulders. She knows the strength of boulders, the heft of bounders, the shatter of boulders when they fly from her hands to earth. She knows the strength of a boulder. The place of a boulder. She lifts it, to know its outside. The small buzzes. The buzzes are a pattern. "Engorgio," they say, engorgioengorgio. Engorgio engorgio magic. Magic.
The small is complicated. The boulder is handy. It has familiar heft. She weighs the boulder and the knowledge. Somewhere in the cavern that hides her memory, magic is a word with meaning. Giants know magic. They know magic. They know magic... they fear magic.
Magic is the strength of small. Magic makes small things large and large things small, takes power from giants, feeds power to the small. Magic is contrary, and wrong for giants. It belongs to the wizards.
Wizard.
The giant she emerged from, the giant who made her, told her the words for magic, for wizard, for crush. Before she asked questions, before the cave grew too small for her, before. Before she wondered, she only knew. She knew as the giants knew. Wizards were complicated. Wizards were destructive.
The wizard larges another boulder into being. He makes it weightless. She could carry it on a long journey, to the hillside where giants gather. She could hold it above her and become the strongest giant, the gurg. The the wizard would magic the weight back, the boulder would fly, and the giants would all become silent and small. She smiles. The plan is complicated. The plan is new. The plan is heavy with new power.
A wizard could be useful.
A wizard could be trouble.
Troublesome, difficult utility. Crushing is much easier. She bends down. The wizard has a face like a giant's face, though small and pinched. He smiles. He says, "Tomorrow." She doesn't know tomorrow. She doesn't understand. She likes the wizard's power. She likes the wizard's strength. She likes the wizard. She does. She does not. The wizard is a small. The wizard is a very small small. The wizard is too small to understand.
The small are difficult. The small are meddling. The small live in small places and have small minds. They are not like giants.
Giants know this. She knows this. She distrusts him in her whole large body, deep distrust that coils in her gut. The wizard is not to be trusted. She knows this.
Giants know.
Fandom: Harry Potter
Featured Characters: Fridwulfa, Hagrid Sr
Do They (Want To) Have Sex (With Each Other)? As per canon?
Spoilers: Through Order of the Phoenix
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: JKR, Scholastic, etc.
Notes: Written for a hogwarts_elite challenge, reposted here for the first time.
Summary: Giants know.
Word Count: 639
Know, That is to Say, Yes
Giants know. Giants know. Giants know.
Giants know slow thinking slowly.
Know it well.
Giants know caves.
Caves. Vast and round and endless, giants know. Giants born from caves return to caves to know when sensing overwhelms outside the caves. Giants retreat to origins.
Giants know giants, dimly, from the grasping terrain of terrible height. They see stonily, giants. They see giants.
Giants know patterns, giants know, after endless repetition more times than giants can count, giants know: myself, and not-myself, the things that are larger than I, and the small. There are many small.
The small are too many to count, too many to remember, too many to name. They are easier when they are silent. The complicated, invisible buzz of the small can intrude on a giant and her knowing, internal, cavernous.
The small intrudes. He pokes and intrudes, prods and intrudes, buzzes words that are not words at the edges of her knowing. It is easier to crush into dust the intrusions, as she did with the other small, the other giants, whose bones she wears as reminders of their silence. She lets out a roar that is the beginning of the silencing, but the small stops her. It holds another small, then... it larges it. The small becomes a large, a boulder. The giants knows boulders. She knows the strength of boulders, the heft of bounders, the shatter of boulders when they fly from her hands to earth. She knows the strength of a boulder. The place of a boulder. She lifts it, to know its outside. The small buzzes. The buzzes are a pattern. "Engorgio," they say, engorgioengorgio. Engorgio engorgio magic. Magic.
The small is complicated. The boulder is handy. It has familiar heft. She weighs the boulder and the knowledge. Somewhere in the cavern that hides her memory, magic is a word with meaning. Giants know magic. They know magic. They know magic... they fear magic.
Magic is the strength of small. Magic makes small things large and large things small, takes power from giants, feeds power to the small. Magic is contrary, and wrong for giants. It belongs to the wizards.
Wizard.
The giant she emerged from, the giant who made her, told her the words for magic, for wizard, for crush. Before she asked questions, before the cave grew too small for her, before. Before she wondered, she only knew. She knew as the giants knew. Wizards were complicated. Wizards were destructive.
The wizard larges another boulder into being. He makes it weightless. She could carry it on a long journey, to the hillside where giants gather. She could hold it above her and become the strongest giant, the gurg. The the wizard would magic the weight back, the boulder would fly, and the giants would all become silent and small. She smiles. The plan is complicated. The plan is new. The plan is heavy with new power.
A wizard could be useful.
A wizard could be trouble.
Troublesome, difficult utility. Crushing is much easier. She bends down. The wizard has a face like a giant's face, though small and pinched. He smiles. He says, "Tomorrow." She doesn't know tomorrow. She doesn't understand. She likes the wizard's power. She likes the wizard's strength. She likes the wizard. She does. She does not. The wizard is a small. The wizard is a very small small. The wizard is too small to understand.
The small are difficult. The small are meddling. The small live in small places and have small minds. They are not like giants.
Giants know this. She knows this. She distrusts him in her whole large body, deep distrust that coils in her gut. The wizard is not to be trusted. She knows this.
Giants know.