"Does crawling under the beds seem better to you now?” asked Helena.

“Not by much,” responded Findel bitterly.

The four women lay prone on one of the rare cliffs on the plains of Whiterun, observing the situation some distance away and below. It was even worse than Erik suggested. Or maybe it got worse during their trip. In either case, there were almost twenty giants seated around the central firepit. And those were only the male ones. Livia counted almost the same number of females, and a few that were almost human in size and without a wisp of beard. Children, she thought, but not to be taken lightly either.

“So what do we do now?” asked Helena.

“Well...” started Findel, “we could probably catch something.”

Helena looked towards her in disbelief. “Of all the times to think about food-”

“No no no, not for us,” Findel interrupted. “For them. As a peace offering or a gift of good will. So they let us in and don’t clobber us on sight.”

Helena blinked. “That’s not a bad idea, actually.”

“Surprised I thought of it?” quizzed Findel with a sly smile.

“Yes,” said Helena flatly. Findel’s smile immediately evaporated. “But that still leaves the issue of communication. I’m afraid I can’t speak Thars. Giants’ language,” she explained when she noticed Findel and Livia staring blankly at her. “And they don’t really understand our language either. Too complicated for them.”

“I’m surprised,” Findel quipped. “Don’t they teach languages in that fancy magic girl school up in Winterhold?”

“It’s a school for magic,” Helena pointed out, tiny barbs of venom in her voice. “If a language is unaffiliated with any popular magic, they won’t be teaching it.”

Livia sighed in frustration. “So what do we do now? We can’t kill them all, we can’t talk to them…” She turned a hopeful glance to Helena. “You couldn’t Charm them into making peace, could you?”

“I could not,” responded Helena sadly. “There’s too many of them. Too many different minds thinking of different things – even if they are simple. And even if there were only two of them, the spell would only last for a day, maybe two at most. And when it wore off, they’d just be back at it, and probably be more confused and irritable for our trouble.”

A snorted chuckle escaped Findel’s lips. “Well isn’t this just beautifully silly. We get hired to negotiate, and none of us can even speak.”

“I can,” Aeriel said shyly. All eyes immediately turned to her. “I’m not very good at it though,” she added, trying to break the ensuing silence, only to cause an even longer one. Her pale cheeks blushed pink.

Findel laughed. “Well it looks like our little Aeri is full of surprises,” she said, clapping the taller woman on the shoulder.

“How did you learn it?” asked Helena, suddenly serious. “In all my life, I’ve never heard any non-giant speak it, and I’ve heard them all.”

“Does it really matter?” asked Livia. She had to admit, she too was curious, but it was a mystery that could wait a while. Right now, it was an unexpected boon to them. Aeriel’s gentle smile confirmed they were in the same mind, or that the other woman at least didn’t want to talk about it.

“Yes it matters,” snapped Helena. “This isn’t something to be taken light-”

“Oh shush already, princess,” said Findel, clearly annoyed, cutting Helena off. “Stop tormenting the poor girl. You can satiate your academic curiosity later. We have work to do now.”

Helena’s face seemed to turn as red as her hair. After a few moments, she closed her eyes and exhaled. “So be it, then. I’ll not argue with all three of you.” When her eyes opened, they were turned to Aeriel. “But this isn’t over,” she warned. Aeriel looked even smaller than Findel as she desperately tried not to return the look.

“Yeah yeah, sure, whatever,” said Findel. “But now we can do the job. So let’s go do it.”

“Don’t rush,” said Helena. “We need a plan.”

“What we need first is a camp,” Findel responded. “The horses need their rest too.”

“I’ll go take care of it,” chirped Aeriel. She seemed only too happy with the prospect of gaining some distance from Helena’s piercing eyes.

“Make sure it’s somewhere not easily found,” said Helena. Her voice was again professionally calm. “If worst comes to worst, the giants mustn’t find us.”

Aeriel only nodded before darting away. “I’ll go with her,” said Findel. “I need to go get my pointy stick first.” Without further ado, she rushed off after her.

“What was that all about?” demanded Livia as soon as she was sure they were both out of earshot. Whatever reasons Helena had, treating Aeriel like that was not something she would let slide. “She hasn’t done anything wrong.”

“Be quiet!” Helena commanded, not looking away from the distance. Her expression turned solemn and her eyes moved to Livia, suddenly full of guilt. “Forgive me,” she said quietly. “That was inexcusable.”

Surprised, Livia could only offer a weak “sure”. Helena’s gaze moved to the ground, studying the pebbles.

“But what’s so bad about her being able to speak it?” Livia persisted.

Helena turned her eyes towards Livia, looking older than she was. “It’s not that I wasn’t able to learn it because I had nowhere to learn from,” she said. “A mage always finds a way to get to the knowledge she desires. It’s that even if I knew it, I couldn’t speak it.”

Livia frowned, confused. “What do you mean?”

Helena smiled weakly. “You’ll have the chance to see it for yourself soon enough. Or rather hear it for yourself.”

Before Livia could press further, Findel returned, her quiver slung over a shoulder.

“How’s it going, you two?” she started, smiling widely. “Attack plan progressing?” Helena opened her mouth to reply, but Findel cut her of. “You’ know what, I don’t really care. Liv, come with me,” she commanded. Helena and Livia exchanged nervous glances.

“Why?” she asked carefully.

“Because I want to have company right now,” Findel responded simply before grabbing Livia by the shoulder with a surprisingly strong grip and dragging her away. Livia tried to resist, but couldn’twrench herself free from the elf’s hand. Only when they were far away enough that she couldn’t see Helena clearly did Livia feel the grip vanish.

“I heard every word you said to her,” Findel said calmly, but her tone was harsh and scolding. “Yesterday on the wall, I was able to sneak up on you without having to put in an ounce of effort even though you were supposed to be on the watch. You’re as blind as a badger and as loud as a whale.” She pressed her knuckles to Livia’s forehead and pushed, causing the girl to stumble. “We’re called Hunters for a reason. A hunter, no matter his game, must see and hear everything around him, but not be seen or heard by anything around him.” She paused for breath. “I scouted for the Dominion for many years. I would’ve scouted for less than a day if I were anything like you. You won’t be an apprentice forever, Livia. You won’t always have someone to remind you of those things. You must learn them, and you must learn them now.”

Livia stared at her, rubbing her shoulder. “You didn’t have to pull my arm out to tell me that, you know,” she said indignantly.

“I didn’t. But I did anyway. And now you won’t forget it so easily,” said Findel simply.

Several seconds passed in silence. Finally, Livia spoke. “I’m guessing you didn’t bring me here just to lecture me,” she said quietly.

The elf smiled thinly. “You’re learning. Good. And no, not just for that. We need to bring something as the offering to the giants. Something big. So I’ll be hunting elk. And you’ll be with me the whole time. You will find it, and if it gets away, you’ll find another one.”

“Why me?” Livia rebelled. “Shouldn’t it be the other way around?”

“Probably,” responded Findel. “But you’ll learn better this way. And our time isn’t unlimited, so you better hurry up.”

Though this would probably do her good, Livia couldn’t help but feel a small measure of scorn towards the older woman as she strode about, looking for any tracks that could lead her to an elk. She found them in abundance, but none of them matched. Plenty of boar, does, some goats, and – Livia shivered – something that resembled the fresh paw prints of a sabrecat. Even in a company of a seasoned hunter, Livia didn’t wish to meet one. It seemed like an eternity before she finally stopped, having found not tracks, but a small herd in a distance. She was about to shout for Findel when she remembered the need for silence. Instead, she turned around and waved, making sure she wouldn’t accidentally shine her bracer towards animals and give them both up. Findel didn’t seem too happy, Livia thought. Probably because less tracking than she wanted took place before the prey had been found. But an elk was an elk, and they were in a rush.

Instead of responding, Findel took off her quiver and removed the front half of the spear, before laying the quiver and the bottom half on the ground. Turning to Livia, she gave her a tiny nod before sauntering off towards the elks through the tall grass. Livia watched as her walk turned into a crouch, and soon enough a crawl, only being able to trace her because she never lost sight of her position. Every now and then, when one of the elks became restless or alerted, she would stop, waiting motionlessly until the animal lost interest and returned to grazing. She moved with a purposeful sluggishness of a predator, and Livia couldn’t help but wonder if her green skin and outfit helped her blend in with the terrain.

Finally after what seemed as an eternity, she stopped, and Livia could see why. She was only a stone’s toss away from the herd. Still unsure what she was going to do, Livia stood and watched. Another eternity seemed to pass before Findel finally sprung into action.

If she didn’t see it with her own eyes, Livia wouldn’t believe someone could do something like that. Straightening up as if launched from the ground, Findel flung the spear at the closest elk, a large male with a magnificent pair of antlers. It all happened so fast that the spear managed to find its mark before even the first animals only just started to flee. It hit the elk above the left hind, burying itself deep into the muscle. Finally spurred by the pain, the elk tried to run, but it was too late: the horrible wound as well as the weight of the spear itself slowed it down, and it was all the time Findel needed to catch up to it, tackling it by the neck and pulling it down. The sounds of a struggle and panicked moaning filled the plains, and Livia felt sudden gratitude for the distance that wouldn’t permit her to clearly see what was happening. She accompanied her father on the hunts several times as a child, but this barely sounded like a single shrill cry the animal would make when stuck with an arrow. Her mind wandered to faint memories of hearing the deer die in the distance, torn by the maws of ravenous wolves, and she shivered.

As abruptly as they started, the sounds ended, leaving only the dying echoes. Moments later, Findel appeared, waving for Livia to come over. She obliged, lingering only long enough to collect Findel’s quiver.

Findel was wiping off the spearhead when she got to her. She turned around and smiled. Nauseatingly, Livia noticed that her teeth were bloody. Her eyes wandered to the elk’s corpse, spotting an unmistakable bite mark in its neck. She shivered again. Findel’s habits started to unnerve her.

“Did you really have to do that?” she asked. “Couldn’t you just… stab it again?

Findel thought for a moment. “I guess I could. But that’s not fun at all.”

Livia grimaced. “And this is fun to you?” she puzzled.

“Yeah,” responded Findel simply. “Yeah it is.”

“Remind me,” Livia started, “never to go to a celebration with you.”

Findel smiled again. She ran her tongue across her teeth and spat. “Noted. But now we have to carry this thing back.” She paused. “I don’t suppose you have any rope on you, do you?”

“I actually do,” said Livia.

“Good,” Findel responded. “give it here and give me the other half of my spear.”

Livia did as she was bid, and they got to work. She didn’t need to be explained what they were about to do, having seen it herself numerous times. Even so, seeing Findel assemble her spear was interesting to say the least: the ends of the shaft fitted in the connecting tube with no room to spare. Once they were in place, a couple of bronze spikes that Findel produced from her pouch locked the whole thing in place. Put together, the spear was almost twice as tall as Findel was.

“Lovely thing, isn’t he?” she said proudly. “Let’s get going. We’re losing daylight.”

Carrying the elk, fastened around the shaft by front and hind legs, was much easier than Livia expected for an animal of such size. It probably helped that the bulk of the weight fell on the shorter Findel. Still, it was gruelling, and her shoulders were screaming by the time they returned to the camp.

“That was quick,” Helena noted when they returned. “But then again, it never did take you long to find your quarry,” she said to Findel.

“Oh, Livia found this one,” Findel admitted. “Well she found a whole little herd of them, but none the difference.”

“Did she now?” Helena quizzed. “Guess there’ll be a tracker from her yet.”

“Yeah right,” Findel said under her voice. “But yeah, we got the meat, we got the translator; let’s go before night catches us and-”

“Right right,” Helena cut her off before she could continue. “We go. But remember, this is a diplomatic mission first. No killing, and let’s try keep injuring and maiming to the minimum.” Her eyes darted over the three other girls, lingering a moment longer on Findel. “If we fail, we run. We can’t win against that many, and if we upset them, they might attack early.”

“Noted,” Findel said dryly.

Ten minutes later, they were hiding behind the same cliff that they observed the giants from earlier. Two of them distanced themselves from the group and were intently staring into something on the ground between them.

“Watchmen,” Helena concluded. “They set out watchmen. Clever. And better for us.”

“I guess trying to walk in on the whole tribe unannounced would be a poor idea,” said Findel.

“You guess correctly,” Helena replied. “This way, we have better odds.” She turned around. “Everyone ready?” she asked. Findel and Livia responded by nodding. “Aeriel?” she continued.

Aeriel, who was blankly staring at the giants, suddenly snapped towards her. “What? Me? Yeah! Yeah, I’m ready!”

“You don’t… sound ready,” Findel said with more than a hint of suspicion in her voice.

“No no, I’m ready,” Aeriel insisted. “I can do this. Oh gods no, I can’t.”

Findel gripped her by the shoulders. “Hey hey, calm,” she demanded. “All fine. You won’t mess this up. You’re not dumber than those giants, are you?” Aeriel shook her head. “Good.” Reaching into her pouch, Findel produced a small brass flask and offered it to Aeriel. “Calm your nerves a bit. You got this.”

Unauthorized tale usage: if you spot this story on Amazon, report the violation.

Aeriel gratefully accepted the flask, taking a long swing out of it before returning it to Findel. A strong smell of liquor and plums wafted towards Livia.

“Better?” Findel asked.

“A bit,” Aeriel admitted. “Let’s go.”

“Remember,” Helena spoke. “No sudden moves, no loud noise, no violence. Giants respond poorly to act of violence. I’ll do the talking, Aeri will translate. If that fails, we run. Nothing more we can do.” The remaining girls nodded in unison.

The short walk to the giants seemed to last forever to Livia. Helena took the point, with Aeriel at her side, and Findel and Livia walking behind, carrying the elk by its legs. Being in the rear, however, didn’t help ease her anxiety one bit. The shorter of the two watchmen was almost three times her size, and his face didn’t help the impression. As they got closer, she noticed that they were busy spilling coloured stones engraved with spirals out of an odd, misshapen bowl, and comparing them amongst themselves. She recalled scenes from her childhood, seeing older men playing the dice in the taverns or the village square. This didn’t seem too different. She felt slightly relieved, which immediately disappeared when she realized that the bowl they used to stir the rocks was actually a skull of a forest troll. It was lacking a jaw altogether, and a poorly patched crack along its brow ridge left little to imagine on how the creature perished.

The giants noticed them sooner than they wanted. One shot up from his seat and pointed at them a finger as thick as Livia’s forearm, tumbling out a string of words in a language that sounded like nothing human. Helena’s earlier words came back to hit her with terrifying clarity: Aeriel’s high, melodic, almost singsong voice was nothing alike the verbal rockslide that the giant produced.

Before Helena could react in any way, Aeriel jumped in front of her and spread her arms wide before taking a deep breath.

“Vartr!” she howled, in a voice that sounded almost nothing like hers. All heads turned towards her in an instant.. All probably thinking the same thing, Livia thought. Aeriel’s voice was distorted to beyond recognition, deeper and firmer.

“Bring the elk out,” she ordered, but her voice was now tainted by a note of hoarseness. “Quickly, while they’re still surprised!”

They didn’t need to be told twice. Findel and Livia dragged and hurriedly dumped the carcass before rushing back to the safety of back lines.

“Gigt fiur jotrar!” she continued, reverting to the guttural voice. “Wi dag við jot-goðir jalar.”

The giants stared at her in dumbfounded silence for what seemed like hours before exchanging glances and several words that Livia couldn’t even begin to grasp. One of them grabbed the elk before hurrying away towards the encampment with earth-shaking steps, while the other remained, eyeing them suspiciously without blinking.

Helena was the first to break the silence. “That was… what was that?” She turned to Aeriel wide eyed. “How did you do that?”

“Practice?” Aeriel said sheepishly. “I guess. I think I sound strange to them, but I also think I can pass for a young girl.”

“What do you mean by ‘pass for a young girl’?” Livia asked. “What does any of his mean?”

“The giants,” Helena started, not taking her eyes off of Aeriel for a second, as if fearing the girl might disappear if she did, “are chronically untrusting towards any of the ‘smaller races’, as they call us. They only trust their own in most cases. If you would speak to them in their own language, you need to sound the part. Or they suspect you’re up to no good.” She paused for breath. “I’ve heard of recorded cases of would-be speakers clubbed into mush on the spot because they drew too much suspicion by sounding wrong. Only a very select few grown men, with naturally deep voices, can replicate the tone closely enough to speak it properly… and… our little Aeri, I suppose.” She finally allowed herself to blink. “That was… impressive, I must say.”

“Practice,” Aeriel repeated. “I guess.”

“So…” Livia started, “it’s all about the tone?” Helena and Aeriel both nodded. “Can’t magic help you there?”

“Magic such as that is difficult, even for seasoned mages,” Helena explained. “And dangerous. Voice boxes aren’t something you want to play with. Too much work and too much risk for too little a reward. And on top of that, I was never good at Alteration.”

“He’s coming back,” Findel announced. All heads turned just in time to see the returning giant. When he arrived and knelt before them, his face seemed a hint less suspicious.

“Ði ge’e við mir,” he said slowly, as if trying to make sure he was understood. “Jot-goðir Kimir dag við ðu jalar.” His breath smelled strongly of soured milk.

“What did he say?” Findel demanded.

“We must go with him,” Aeriel translated. “The chieftain Kimir wishes to see us.”

“And it’s safe to go?” Findel inquired.

“He… didn’t mention anything about that.”

Not emboldened by that in the slightest, they set out after the giant, having to almost march just to keep pace with his huge steps.

They seemed even larger up close. Observing from the cliff, Livia jokingly suggested that they were burning whole trees in the central fire. Now that she was there, she realized she wasn’t far from truth. They were seated around it in a crude crescent, aligned – as they now noticed – from the smallest on either sides to the largest in the centre. Their primitive, rugged faces, were similar enough that it would be difficult to tell them apart if it weren’t for their diverse and clumsy clothing, which appeared to be made from anything they could get their hands on. Despite that, their large, moist eyes, shone with intelligence, observing them with what seemed an almost polite curiosity.

Kimir wasn’t hard to single out. Large even for a giant, he was seated in what seemed a place of honour. Wrapped in a crude patchwork tunic that seemed to be stitched together from skins of a dozen different species of animals, he rested his hand on the butt of a huge club, crowned with teeth that seemed to match dragon’s in size. His scarred face was remarkably pleasant for such a massive creature, but Livia didn’t assume for a moment that it would mean he was amicable.

“Should we… speak to them?” Findel asked.

“I should think so, yeah,” replied Helena tartly. “But only me.”

“What, you wouldn’t trust me with that,” said Findel jokingly.

“I wouldn’t,” Helena replied dryly. “Aeriel, come here,” she called. Stepping out before the huddled giants, she lowered herself into a curtsy before addressing the present with a smile.

“Most esteemed chieftain Kimir,” she started. “My name is Helena Laurent. On behalf of me and my companions, I greet you.”

Nothing sounded in response.

“Aeri!” Helena hissed under her voice. “Hurry up.”

Aeriel appeared to be struggling for a bit before pushing out a response. “Helenær jal hail þu jot-goðir Kimir.”

Silence resonated for a good dozen seconds before Kimir burst into thunderous laughter, followed almost immediately by the rest of his tribe. Like their steps, it was ground-shaking, and Livia felt her bones vibrate from the sound. It was by no means pleasant, and she hoped that whatever Aeriel said wasn’t too funny: she couldn’t take much more of her humour’s results.

“What did you say to them!?” Helena’s voice was almost drowned in another salve.

“I didn’t really know most of the words you said, so I just said ‘Helena says hi to chieftain Kimir’!” Aeriel responded, blushing.

Helena’s expression crumpled as if she was just dealt a deadly insult. She opened her mouth, seemingly set on eviscerating Aeriel, when Kimir spoke back.

“Mægi-Augar-Kinð jalva hunrir!” he howled, prompting another salve of laughter from the gathered giants.

“What did he say!?” Helena demanded again.

“He said I speak funny,” Aeriel cried over with a smile. “He also called me Star-Eyed-Child.” Her blush seemed to deepen even further.

“En Kimir jal hail þu Feir-Haðr-Fjoda Helenær!” Kimir bellowed happily.

“And Kimir says hello to Fire-Hair-Woman Helena,” Aeriel translated.

Helena seemed to be takes aback with this, if the blush that appeared on her face was anything to go by.

“Noble chieftain,” she started, somewhat stammering for a moment, “we have heard that you have a quarrel with the chieftain of another tribe.”

Aeriel translated, to which Kimir’s expression suddenly turned sour.

“Aj!” he bellowed so hard that Livia’s heart skipped a beat. “Það ruþ-kopar Garmr minir doðir rene!” The rest of the tribe responded with a cacophony of cries.

“He say that Garmr stole his daughter,” Aeriel explained.

“Ah. Wonderful. Marriage politics. Just like back home in Dunlain,” Helena sighed. “But, noble chieftain, there must be another way. If it comes to battling, your lands will drown in your own blood.”

This time, it took Aeriel a good five seconds to string up a translation. “Jot-goðir, ðurgi vje musr verr. Jufr orsur gerst, þyrr hvenjar mun vasrkæf in þyrr bluð.”

Silence fell over the camp as if some giant hand suddenly swiped away all noise.

“Oh no,” Aeriel said weakly. “No no no, no, wait. Hvanjar! I meant hvanjar!”

Whatever she was trying to salvage, the giants didn’t seem to like it. Many of them started getting up with grim expressions on their savage faces. Deadlands broke loose when one of them roared.

“RUN!” Aeriel screamed, before taking her own advice. The rest didn’t need to be told. How or why didn’t matter. The thundering of over two dozen pursuing giant feet and shouts that didn’t sound a least bit friendly were all the reason they needed.

---

It was almost two hours later when they finally managed to lose the giants fully. They were outnumbered and outpaced, but the looming darkness was their ally, and a haphazardly cast illusion bought them precious seconds they needed to hide behind a fallen log, large enough to house half a dozen grown men. They didn’t know what Helena showed to the giants, but whatever it was, it distracted them well enough that they completely lost interest in girls. After a while, they lost interest in the illusion too, and sauntered off back to their camp.

“What the fuck did you say to them!?” Findel hissed as soon as she was sure that the last of the giants was out of an earshot.

Aeriel was hugging her knees, seeming to be on the edge of tears. “Mothers,” she said miserably. “I said mothers. I wanted to say lands, but I said mothers.”

“You did what?” Findel demanded. “How do you mistake that? The fuck is it with that language?”

“Giants revere the elements of nature,” Helena said. She was out of breath, and her pale skin was drenched in sweat. “I’m guessing that they revere earth as their mother.” Aeriel nodded weakly. “Well there you have it. They were probably a bit suspicious of us from the start. And now they think we threatened them too. Wonderful, just bloody wonderful.”

Findel stared at Aeriel as if trying to burn her through with her eyes. “Next time, no nerve-soothing,” she said fiercely. “And if you mess up again, I’ll trip you and let them beat you into the ground. Every elf for herself.”

“Next time, I’ll make point not to speak like I’m in a court,” Helena said. “Lesson learned today: don’t use large sentences with giants. Especially when your translator isn’t fully certain.” She turned to Findel. “And you might want to keep your tongue leashed. I won’t have you threaten anyone here.”

Findel seemed all too eager to rise to a quarrel, but Livia interrupted. ”You talk like this will happen to us again.”

“It will,” Helena answered wearily. “Don’t forget, there’s another tribe. We will have to go speak to them too.”

“Do we have to?” said Findel pleadingly.

“Yes, we do,” responded Helena firmly. “If we can talk them into giving Kimir his daughter back, maybe we can resolve all of this.”

“You think it will all be that easy?” Findel asked.

“I hope it will,” Helena said. “Though I must say: killing them all now seems an easier way out.”

They slept poorly that night. By the time they got back to the camp, it was already deep night. Far too dark to go foraging or hunting. None of them dared to light a fire over the faint suspicion that some of the more foolhardy giants may still be looking for them. With Helena being to exhausted to warm them up with magic, they resorted to huddling together to escape cold, but the only illumination came from the moons.

“Look at them,” Findel said, eyeing the horses with contempt. “Stuffing their faces with grass while we must starve here.”

“We’re all hungry, you know,” snapped Helena. “You’re more than welcome to join them if you want.”

“Very funny,” Findel retorted. “We had to leave the whole elk to the giants,” she sighed. “That big, juicy elk-”

“If you don’t shut up, I might take after your kind and eat you in your sleep,” Helena snarled.

“Fine fine, whatever,” Findel said. “Thanks for reminding me to snore even louder tonight.”

“If neither of you minds, I’d like to get some sleep,” declared Livia.

“She’s right,” said Helena. “It was a long day. And tomorrow might be longer still.”

Sunlight woke them up the following morning. Helena was the first to stand up, grunting in discomfort as she stretched her stiff joints. It was far too cold to change last night, and she had to sleep in her chainmail. She firmly promised herself not to do it again.

“Next time, I think I’ll go crawling under the beds,” Findel moaned as she stood up, ruffling her hair. “At least it’s warm in the castle.”

“Good gods, how can you people handle this.” This time, it was Aeriel. She seemed the worst off from the lot. “I’m never going on a mission again if it takes me somewhere without trees.”

“You’ll live.” Livia was the last to rise. “At least it didn’t rain.”

“Don’t jinx it,” warned Findel. “It just might, just to spite you. But it doesn’t worry me much: I’ll be sleeping in the inn tonight, and I don’t care what it costs.”

“Let’s just hope we’re still alive enough to sleep tonight,” said Helena.

The day didn’t get much warmer as they rode past Erikstead, moving towards the territory of a second tribe of giants. The smoking chimneys tempted them, but Helena firmly forbade it.

“It wouldn’t look good if we came back without a job done,” she explained. “Even if for a bit. We have a reputation we have to uphold. Or nobody hires us again, and we have to look for other lines of work.”

“Who died and made you the boss?” Findel protested. “It’s customarily that the eldest is in charge.”

“It’s also customarily that the eldest is the most mature and level-headed one of the lot, but you don’t uphold that,” Helena responded smugly. Findel’s face soured.

“How old are you, anyway?” asked Aeriel. “I never thought to ask you that.”

“Good, because you don’t ask a lady her age,” said Findel snobbishly. “But to sate your curiosity, I’m twenty nine.”

“She’s lying,” Helena said flatly. “She’s fourty-nine.”

“What? No, I’m not,” Findel protested angrily.

“Actually you’re right,” admitted Helena. “You turned fifty a few months ago, didn’t you?”

Findel turned as red as her skin allowed her to. “I’m going to smack you behind the ears for that,” she declared.

“Please, you aren’t tall enough for that,” Helena retorted.

“Please, let’s save some of that energy for the giants,” Aeriel said pleadingly.

“What about you?” Findel shifted.

“What about me?” Aeriel asked back.

“How old are you?”

Aeriel stopped to think. “I don’t know.”

All heads turned to her.

“You… don’t know?” asked Helena incredulously.

“Not really. Nobody was there to write down the date of my birth,” Aeriel admitted. “And by the time I learned to count, it was a bit too late to try it myself.”

“Wait, that’s not possible,” Findel said. “There must be something.” Aeriel shook her head in response. “Nothing at all?” She nodded.

“So, you can only estimate?” Livia asked. Aeriel responded with another nod. “So what’s your estimate?”

“What’s yours?” Aeriel inquired.

“Twenty-ish,” said Findel.

“Hmm… I think that’s about right,” said Aeriel.

“You don’t seem too worried about not knowing your age,” Findel noticed.

“It’s just a number,” said Aeriel. “We’re as old or as young as we feel. I mean, just look at you. And look at Gareth: he’s acting like he’s twice his age.”

“Good point,” Findel concluded. “So we have a little ol’ me at five banks, Helena at twenty seven, Livia at fifteen-”

“Sixteen,” corrected Livia scathingly.

“-and Aeriel at ‘twenty-ish’,” she finished. “And we’re all still young.”

“We are,” Helena agreed. “But let’s make sure we live to be old.”

It wasn’t too long before they spotted the second giant encampment. This one seemed only somewhat smaller, but no less threatening than the other one.

“Another elk hunt?” Findel asked. “I don’t care what you say, I’m cutting off a slice from-”

“Let’s… try something different this time,” Helena suggested. “We already have some knowledge, and these ones didn’t seem to set out anyone to keep watch.”

“So what are you suggesting?” asked Findel. “That we just walk in there empty-handed?”

“More or less, yes,” Helena agreed. “Trust me, it is an option this time.”

“I wish I could,” said Findel resignedly.

“What was the other giant’s name again?” asked Helena as they paced carefully towards the camp.

“Garmr,” Aeriel answered.

“Garmr, right. Well, we’ll walk up to Garmr and you’ll introduce us. Should confuse them into good will.”

“Should?” Findel asked carefully.

“Unless you’re seeing any elk here, it’s the best plan we’ve got,” Helena responded. Findel remained quiet.

As expected, the giants spotted them soon enough. These ones, however, seemed somewhat less suspicious and only started to get up when Aeriel got too close.

“Helenær jal hail þu jot-goðir Garmr.” She announced. “Wi dag við ðu jalar.”

Helena’s prediction proved correct. The giants were surprised enough by her appearance and her speech that they did nothing, until one of them stepped out. He wasn’t as tall as Kimir, but made it up with being twice as portly.

“Ih sul Garmr, saun Gormir. Var dag ðu?”

“He says he is Garmr, son of Gormir,” Aeriel translated. “He’s asking us what do we want.”

“Tell him we wish to negotiate the return of Kirmir’s daughter,” said Helena. Aeriel obliged.

“Nej!” Garmr shouted. “Ih haþ Boðra rene firur minir saun Germur! Ih gerb ir nej nadr!”

“He says he stole Boðra for his son Germur.” Aeriel translated. “He’s not giving her back.”

“Damn him,” Helena swore under his breath. “We’ll have to offer him something else.”

Before anyone could inquire as to what she had in mind, a giant separated from the group and approached them. He seemed young, being only by two heads taller than Helena, with gentle, naïve eyes. He spent some time observing them before rushing to Garmr, who lowered his head, starting a hushed conversation between two of them.

“I’ll bet my money on the lad being Germur,” Findel said.

“You think?” Livia asked.

Garmr seemed finished talking. He straightened himself back up and spoke.

“Ih Boðra mun gerb nadr, jufr ðu gerb mirir saun Galdar-Haðr-Kinð.”

Aeriel turned towards the girls, eyeing them each uncertainly.

“He said,” she started, “that he will give us Boðra back, but we must give his son the Gold-Hair-Child.”

“What’s a Gold-Hair-Child?” Livia asked, before noticing all eyes were on her. “Oh no. No no no no no, you can’t be serious.”

Findel couldn’t suppress a snorted chuckle. “What, he likes you? I think that’s really sweet.”

Livia frowned at her. “You go marry him if you think that’s sweet!”

“What, and get in the way of true love? No way,” said Findel teasingly.

Germur approached them again, and was eyeing Livia with unhidden interest. She wished she could ask Helena to make her invisible.”

“So you’re the Gold-Hair-Child,” Findel started. “Helena is Fire-Hair-Woman. And Aeriel is Star-Eyes-Child. What’s that make me? Hey Aeri!” she shouted. “Aeri, ask the big guy what I am.”

Aeriel obliged, speaking a string guttural noises. Garmr took a look at Findel and responded without missing a beat. “Jalvir-þuk.”

“Jalvir-þuk!” Findel repeated eagerly, a smile blooming on her face. “Yeah, I like that. What’s it mean?”

“It means ‘Talking Bush’,” Aeriel admitted. Findel’s smile disappeared. “Oh yeah?” she snapped defiantly. “Well up yours, fat man.”

“You’re lucky he can’t understand you,” Helena said, trying not to giggle.

Meanwhile, Livia tried her best to make herself less noticeable, but Germur wouldn’t stop staring at her. He seemed fascinated by her blonde hair. Without warning, his hand shot out towards her. Surprised, Livia yelped and slapped it away, finally losing her cool and stepping back.

“Oy,” she cried, trying not to sound terrified. “Hands to yourself!”

Again, silence fell over a giants’ camp. Germur backed away, clutching his slapped hand, seeming much more shocked than really hurt.

“Hey, Helena,” Livia called as reality settled in. “Helena, please tell me that that doesn’t count as an act of violence.”

“We’re outsiders so I’ll say yes, it does,” Helena responded, her eyes darting across the slowly rising giants.

“Fuck…” Livia squeezed.

Aeriel desperately turned to Findel. “I didn’t mess anything up this time. Please don’t trip me.”

---

“So now what?” Findel demanded when they finally managed to return to the relative safety of their camp. This escape wasn’t particularly daring, as they managed to quickly lose the giants on the horseback, but as the adrenaline wore off, the harsh reality of the situation came to take its place. “We managed to anger both tribes. How will we get them to make peace now.”

“I don’t think we can,” said Helena.

“So what, that’s it?” rebelled Livia. “We just go home and let them pound Erikstead into rubble.”

“Nobody said anything about going home,” Helena declared. “But I really don’t see what we could do.”

“What, no magic to help us here?” Findel asked.

“Like I said once already, no,” Helena retorted bitterly. “I can’t do it. A whole group of mages couldn’t do it. We’d need a god to pull of som-” She froze halfway through the word, staring off into the space.

“Helena?” Aeriel asked.

She turned so suddenly that the other girls jumped back.

“I have a really, really terrible idea,” she announced, but the smile that dawned on her face suggested otherwise.