A Song of Devotion

 Image Credit: Rise Bosch

Welcome to my first entry in this year's #SeptKinkyScribble Challenge, hosted by the incomparable and search-banned Elle Largesse.

The conceit?  Write a story.  Write it quick.  Do minimal edits.  Publish it.  Do not, under any circumstances, over-think it.

This 1056-word story took approximately two hours to write and edit.

Minor Eve's Boutique Spoiler Warning.  This takes place in the EB universe, and contains characters you'd recognize, but it only gives away things you'd learn in the first third of the book.  This story is canon, but I'm not saying when it happens in the timeline relative to the events of EB.

This story is romantic, but 100% safe for work.  Sorry, fellow perverts.  I'll do better next time.

The plot of this story is almost entirely based on an Indigo Girls song.  Don't take legal action, there's no commercial applications.  And like... I'm sure Amy and Emily are just sooo litigious. 

Content Tags: Safe for work, Shrunken woman, Mini-giantess, muscle growth, romance, depression, Indigo Girls fan faction

A Song of Devotion
by pseudoclever

It was a late November morning on the farm.  The sky was the cloudless blue of unshed tears.  There was so little color this time of year.  The bright orange and red of fall had faded to winter gray.  All around them the trees stood useless, swaying somber in the breeze.

Alana stood on the porch, shivering in the wind.  It was unseasonably cold for this time of year, and her outfit didn’t offer much protection.  Doll clothes weren’t meant for outdoor work.

The eight-inch girl sighed, and surveyed the fallow land.  “There’s only one thing left to do before winter comes.  But it’s a dirty task, and I’m in no position to help.”

“I’m up for it.  Just tell me what to do.”

Eve stood at the bottom stair.  The girl bounced on her toes, limbering up for the day ahead.  There were few things Eve enjoyed more than having orders to follow.  Her body spoke of the joy of it: she’d been over eight feet tall for the last month, utterly towering over Alana.  The two made quite the pair, especially when you considered physiques.  Eve was broad-shouldered and powerfully muscled these days, the build of a well-fed lumberjack.  Alana couldn’t have asked for a better farmhand.

“Alright,” Alana said.  “But feel free to change your mind when you hear what I’m asking.  You know the pine trees, out on the west end?  Three of them died this year.  They’re liable to fall right on the fence if we get a storm.  We need to take them down before that happens”

“Can do.”  The muscular giantess hoisted an axe, grinning from ear to ear.

“This isn’t going to be fun,” Alana told her.  “They’re covered in old sap.  A hundred feet tall at least, and you can’t grow too big.  The Henderson Farm is out that way, and they’ll make trouble if they see you.”

Eve nodded, already walking off.

“Wait.  Why don’t you do this tomorrow?  I can knit you something.  A sweater maybe.  Even at this size, I can find enough magic to do that.  The weather’s turned too cold for what you’re wearing.”

The witch turned, adjusting her bedsheet toga.  “Have we really never talked about this?  I don’t feel cold.  As in, I don’t have the capacity to sense it.  Never have.”

“I bet you aren’t immune to it.  That’s all the more reason to be cautious.”

Eve leaned against her axe.  “True.  But that just means I need to work up a sweat.  Stay warm, the way humans have for thousands of years.”

The eight-inch woman narrowed her eyes.

“I know my own body,” Eve said gently.  “I’m not in danger.  I promise.”

Alana chewed her lip, then sighed.  “Okay.  Sorry.  I… shouldn’t second-guess you like that.  I trust you.”

“Oh!” The axe clattered to the ground.  Eve’s hands covered her mouth, tears welling in her eyes.  “You have no idea how much it means to hear you say that.”

The giantess stomped forward, knelt at the base of the stairs, lifted Alana with both hands.  They looked at each other shyly for a moment, and then Eve kissed her.  Her lips utterly engulfed the tiny woman, half the length of Alana’s body at least.  They were cool to the touch, and faintly chapped.

“We can have some fun,” Eve whispered.  “Later tonight, after the work’s done.  There are so many things I can do with you, Alana.  With your trust.  You just have to say the word.”

Alana looked away shyly, and nodded.  “Yes.  Please.”

A long silence played out between them.  The wind howled.

“There’s more you want to say,” Eve said softly.  “I can feel it, like a thorn stuck in your paw.  Do you want to let it out?  If not, we can leave it for now.”

The eight-inch girl sighed dramatically.  “You and your empathy powers.”

“Do you really think I need them to know something’s bothering you?”

“I suppose not.  It’s just… what even is the point of this, anymore?  Letting one day turn into the next.  Mending fences that don’t need to exist.  Those trees… Eve, I changed my mind.  Don’t cut them down, okay?  They’ll fall this winter, and the Hendersons will complain.  But if they take out the fence… maybe that’s okay.  Actually.  As soon as I’m not stuck at this size, let’s take the whole fence down together.”

“Fences aren’t the problem.  They’re necessary.  The Hendersons exist – that’s all the proof we need.  Besides that… Alana, you built that fence, stone by stone, with your own two hands.  You built it for me, for us.  That fence is your love.  I’m honored to help maintain it, even when you can’t.”

The tiny woman smiled, and rest her hand on Eve’s lip.  “I just wish I could help.  I feel so useless when I’m this small.”

“Believe me, I know what it’s like to be size-stuck.  I’ve been eight-foot-six since we got here, and it’s getting old.  But as for being useless… I sometimes forget, you aren’t a witch the way I am.  Don’t you know what winter is for?”

“It’s when things are at their worst.  It’s a period you just have to survive, so you can see spring come.”

Eve mussed the girl’s hair.  “Wrong.  Winter is a period of renewal and reflection.  Of plowing under what’s old, and giving it time to rest.  Even if it looks like nothing is changing, that inaction is the whole point.  In other words, winter is a time for doing nothing.”

“Then… come do nothing with me today.” Alana smiled at her hopefully.

“Soon.  Let me protect your fences first.”

Alana’s face fell.

“But you can help,” Eve went on.  “Even at this size.  For one thing, I could use a little company.  You have a lovely singing voice.  Why don’t you sing me a work song?”

The tiny woman felt herself being lifted.  Eve sat her upon her shoulder, and curled off a lock of long black hair to use as a hand-hold.  Together, they trudged off toward the pines.

“That isn’t the song I want to sing you,” Alana said softly.  “It’s something more down-tempo, not appropriate for chopping down trees.”

“No problem, my love.  I’ll listen to whatever you want to sing.” 

“Thanks, Eve.  For trusting me, too.”