Author's Note: This is smut and assumes you're over 18 in reading it.
	Tags: Dungeons & Dragons, Forgotten Realms, female elf paladin x female frost giant, age difference, sizeplay, VERY guilty sex

	"Today again I pray to thee, Sune, and return to duty mine. That I may stand and weather hardships, so others will follow. That I may judge wisely, and fairly, yet immediately. That I may inspire, as I improve upon myself, my flaws and faults. That I may let my years and trials rule my judgment, and not my heart. That I may speak up and defend those that cannot do so themselves. That my shield may safeguard the travellers, the lovers, the jubilant. That love burns brightly if I can help it. My only wish, a kindness on the way of someone I meet."

	For sixty and one years have I, Serendre, served My Lady as a Knight of the Ruby Rose. Twenty years of which as an initiate, travelling free with my peers and my superiors, taught the way of the sword, the hammer, the weapons of war most of my elven kin forego. Then again, most other elves are not as keen to worship outside the Seldarine. I have acted alongside my mentors as a companion in training, a guardswoman, and at times a delegate for matters diplomatic. I have been taught the arts of the mortals, their fleeting, bright passions put to pen and to song and to life. I have watched and learned to love my mentor, once, before my faithful admission to my duties to Sune. And we were always taught to watch the free, blessed unburdened unable to take up the duties we ourselves would (some would say unwilling but how many can truly be put to the tasks of the clergy and the warriors?), to watch their celebrations and joys and blossoming loves and nourish the free spirit.

	On my twelfth year as a young maiden barely six scores old, I devoted my life to My Lady. And so I forewent my own passions, my own barely explored, for the protection of others' own. A sacrifice that tugs at my heart, admittedly, but one that I feel is worthy. For what love is greater than the love one can feel for all who can be charitable? What single person could be more important than to stand as a beacon against the evils facing this world? My word to Sune is worth my weight in gold, and that inspires me to rise to meet expectations, and to rise above challenge. Ever since then, my duties brought me across the length of the Sword Coast, from Delimbiyr's course westward, to Luskan City north. From the loftiest baron to the lowliest whore I met and bode well. From the bashful farmer's body to the lonely son of a duke, I was at their side to teach them in my journeys. Where I saw love unrequited, I consoled and taught and read. Lonely places of worship I had often stood guard at, and I could provide company, kindness, and a bit of reprieve of the loneliness I felt at times myself. I loved, but never could commit, for I never could love wholly. But that was alright. My only wish is but a kindness on the way of someone I meet a day.

	I never had thought to end up as far north as I did once I was tasked to head to Icewind Dale, but I responded quickly to a call to arms for wandering adventurers and mercenaries alike, tasked to protect a cargo caravan before the great trip overseas. I must've surprised many a sailor-to-be on the nights at rest with my own willingness to engage in their bawdy songs. We even managed to compose ourselves a new song about a fiery red haired lass awaiting a sailor from every port every night for the journey over sea, best not sung in the company of high society at all. We travelled with little bad fortune across our journey, and arrived in Icewind Dale's Caer-Konig, cold, but invigorated. The journey was survived. Sailors and tradesmen could look forward to commerce, mead, and company. I took what little pay I was insisted upon taking, making for my next preparations.

	Yet oddly, as I stayed in the settlements of the Ten Towns Confederate, I saw little duties that I could attend to. No temples needed my aid in maintenance or protection. The slew of traders from far and wide towards the settlements were mostly well protected. Somehow, I felt stranded in this cold no-man's land.

	So I did what I always have done. Travel to the next settlement. The next town over. Wanderlust leads to discovery, after all. Shelter is only a question away. And even in this cold realm, I found I could warm myself to the fires of the clergy, or a dry winter cloak fetched for me at a moment's notice. Every day I prayed again to Sune, with but one wish upon my lips following my oaths and promises to My Lady: that a kindness be imparted on the way of someone I would meet.

	Yet as I travelled south and west, I found fewer travellers in the cold wastes and the ever-blowing snow. My eyes and ears were numbed with cold, and my sight of the tracks of travelled roads I lost until I could only navigate by starlight and the sun itself. My intentions to travel to Termalaine were more than waylaid, as I found myself lost. I feared, naturally. But my worries laid closer to the stranger I would not meet two days, three days in a row, than to myself.

	It wasn't until the fourth day in the blizzard dying and picking up that I saw tracks of a caravan due north and west that I had a hunch of where to go. But my prayers for a kindness towards the stranger would soon be quelled. A band of juvenile blue giants, easily twice and thrice as tall as my own person, had looted the remnants of a small troupe of travellers and their carts and beasts. Whole oxen were carried over the shoulders of one of them. The mangled remains of knucklehead fish and some barrels in the arms of two others. A fourth carried looted bars and rods of metal. A fifth was trailing along, looking out of place from the young men and young women boisterously cheering their fortunes and recounting atrocities. I feared the worst, sprinting towards what could only be summed up as broken bodies, splintered like the wood of their carts, sprawled out in the tossed, and much bloodied snow. I sought survivors, finding only the wheezing, faltering form of an older halfling woman under the wreckage of a cart's wheel and axle.

	She would live. Through Sune, I willed it. My cold hands glowed to heat and mend the woman at least for so long as I could carry her to shelter. But my cold ears already perked at the sound of heavy feet trundling through the snow, the voices of surprised, hooting giants. I could only make out a few words in their crude Jotunise, my own Giantspeak rusty and infrequently used. But there was a call for more blood. A tin man in the snow.

	I drew back from the woman, unfastening my hammer from my belt and hip, bracing my shield in my left arm. My posture widened as I made my solemn approach towards the first two frost giants calling for the slaughter. Today, a kindness upon the stranger I only just met.

	The giants made for a playful wide kick, fully intending to strike me. I sidestepped the first kick with ease, and smashed my hammer down with a righteous fury, screaming to the cruel beasts towering overhead. Bone and skin fractured under my zeal. The first of the two heartless beasts fell with a howl, doubling over to hold his broken leg. The second swing of my hammer smashed up into the thigh of the second giant, hammering into him again and again until I was forced to step away from his sweeping arms seeking to scoop me up and break me like the travellers they found. The second giant kicked mightily after when I tried to regain my stance, deflecting his powerful blow with shield and posture alike. In the imbalance, my own blows followed, imperfect but sufficient. By the time the other three giants approached, my hammer already struck down into the skull of a prone, kicking giant, silencing the howling brute at last.

	Two of the three giants in the back approached. Great bars of iron were swatted into their own palms, ready to strike at me. I stepped away from the one giant with a broken leg, no longer a threat, and hefted my shield high. The impact of the two metal rods against my shield and shield arm left me in pain, but I only needed to close the distance, darting underfoot to swipe at ankles and to crush feet with my hammer and shield alike. Fear overtook the giants, until I well hobbled them to the point they could barely turn around in the trampled snow. With divine fervour guiding my every strike, and the years of hefting my arms carrying my hammer, I struck true once after another, until one giant fell, battered, beaten, and barely able to stand. My blows caved in his throat and skull when he still tried to attack me, and he too, was silenced forevermore. The fourth stumbled, fled into the blizzard, unwilling to fight any longer. Though hobbled, she moved faster than my burdened self could, and fled the scene without caring for her fellows. 

	I counted the bodies. Three down, one left groaning and alive, two corpses left to steam in the snow. My ears perked to the panicked cries of the fifth giant, who appeared terrified of the brutality of my attacks on her peers. I realized, there and then, this one was not a threat. Stark blue skin stood out from the shock of snow white hair mopped atop her dome, messy braids running down the front of her shoulders. She bore a few scars of cuts and scrapes along her limbs and stomach, and wore a coat of mismatched animal furs and some leather clothes. I even thought I saw animal bones in and on her garb. Nowhere near an adult, tears streamed down the young giant's face as my steel-clad form approached. Even if she towered over me at twice my size, she scrambled back against what ill-gotten loot she was forced to carry when her elders came stomping towards me. 

	My heart slightly ached at seeing her fear. But my face turned to a scowl, as I pointed towards the barrels of fish and food she carried with her. My Jotun was coarse, mostly a mixture of Illuskan, Northern and proper Giantspeak, after the patois ogres used. But it sufficed.

	"You will carry those goods and follow me. You will be máát or you will be dead." I needed to repeat myself only twice. Her fretful voice asked in terms I did not quite understand, but her pointing back to the barrels merely made her quick to obey. Learned a few words of Jotun that day.

	The young giant gathered two of the three barrels left behind with her, carrying them as well as she could in her arms. We passed the three remaining downed bodies, and I took my time to set and right the bone of the one giant I felled the first. There was no retribution. Only fear, and a mute comprehension that I would leave the dullard behind. The teen needed a little coaxing to follow me, before I gathered the lone woman left in the snow. The cart was a total loss, but some boards could have made a make-shift sled. My cloak I offered to the halfling woman as I set her on the sled. What little goods I could salvage, I put on the sled or tied behind it. And then I gave the reigns to the teen, who fearfully regarded this tiny, pointy-eared tin-can woman, speaking up at her direly.

	"You will march with me. If you run, I break you. If you stop, I break you."

	My threats only carried us so far, of course. We stopped before nightfall at a copse of trees. Not the best shelter, but it would suffice. The woman I could heal, feed, nurse to health. The frost giant, meanwhile, stayed put, fearful for her life no doubt, but not fleeing. I made sure she was fed as well, telling her to stay put and rest. My own vigil would be sleepless and without tire. Such is the devotion of a Knight of the Ruby Rose, after all. I could rest after we arrived in Termalaine, the day after.

	That was a mess of its own, with guards ready to attack me and my charge, at least until I called for them to hold fire and to come out to get medics or clerics out. The halfling woman, battered, beaten, weakened, would live. Her livelihood was most likely ruined, but not entirely gone. I stayed at the reaches of Termalaine, mostly to keep watch of the giant, only taking to the hospitality of the locals when I made sure the giant was going nowhere. And even then, I would not leave her at the mercy of the town watch. My orders barked out to her, and she followed dutifully by my side. A baker's bread, a butcher's cuts, my gifts of Termalaine hospitality I shared with my captive in the open streets, not once daring to let her go. 

	We spoke, the giant and I, as she tried to make sense of what happened in the past day and a half. She regarded the curious, fearful townsfolk with as much a wide-eyed expression as every man, woman and child wandering the center. I told her my name, Serendre, which she quickly butchered in her poor mastery of Northern; I learned her name, Inge. She wondered why I would take her along, and I told her she was strong enough to carry loads for the 'maug,' or evil deeds, that her peers committed against the travellers. This of course confused the girl. How was it bad to take from trespassers, if they are not giants? We had not long to discuss giant morality. But it very quickly came down to this:

	"If might makes right, then my acts against your brothers were not maug. But might makes not right, for I would not end if I can avoid it. We all may live, so we all may grow to love."

	Something like that. My Jotun was, after all, very limited and rusty.

	It wasn't until the councilman Agorwal stepped up to offer a reward for returning a citizen of Ten Towns to their walls that I let Inge out of my sight for a few moments. The councilman was, of course, concerned about me taking a giant along. But he had my assurance she would not break laws under my eyes. She would not do 'maug.' The councilman did not rightly understand, but I could hear Inge lean over, listening in, curious but weary. There was talk of a reward, but I needed only as much coin as food and lodging required. The rest could go to the halfling woman.

	So Inge saw me push aside a reward for my deeds, and in my use of Jotun, recognized my curious behaviour as right, as 'máát' in this town of little people.

	I had no intentions of staying long in Termalaine, with Inge complicating things. No doubt the other giants would not take kindly to their own being kidnapped. I called upon the divine magic again to stave off my weariness and kept the watch in town while Inge was forced to rest in the shelter of a tall inn's shadow from the blowing winds and snow. 

	We headed out the next morning. I had no idea how to reunite the teen with her own kin, but she stayed with me, less fearful than before, but still very much weary. I asked her to walk ahead with me, to see if we could return her. That was when Inge posed the most curious question.

	"Why must I return if what the others did was maug? Would I not end up dead someday too? You're small, but you felled us like oaks in summer."

	I honestly had no idea how to respond to that. "Your clan will not keep you safe? Your own will not shield you?" I posed back. The silence was deafening as Inge looked away in doubt. "Your own tried to, and were bested. But only because they acted against those that could not defend their own from you. They acted not for anyone but themselves. That is not máát."

	I could almost hear her groan as the frost giant pondered this. Inge was conflicted beyond measure. "You are mighty, Serendre. So what you did was máát for the little ones. That doesn't have to be maug to us giants. It's our right to take if you can't keep, yes?"

	I gave a loud bat of my shield against the back of the girl's calf. "And that is what got your fellows hurt. It isn't right. It is not máát. It is maug."

	It struck a chord with Inge. She stopped in her track, not wanting to move on. I told her to move on, but she was adamant. She wanted to understand why the little folk stood up for others. Why the giants were wrong, according to me.

	I gave a weary sigh, but part of me was happy I had not needed to delve deep into the tundras again just to find the girl's clan again. So started a peculiar friendship. I took on that fateful day the teenaged giant under my wing, and taught her of how some people stand up for their lessers, as if they were their own.

	The Termalaine populace wasn't too thrilled at us both returning, of course.

	We took to travelling in the frozen wastes up north, Inge and I, to gather supplies for ourselves, and for the town. With the little coin we earned I could get us food, warm spirits, some simple means to tutor and teach as I was taught in the decades of my youth back at the feet of Star Mountains. Language, the creed to Sune, maths, the bounty of the land, Inge took to my lessons, and later a teacher in Termalaine proper, quite readily. In the years that followed, people learned to grow accustomed to Inge's tall, gangly self as she followed me (mostly) obediently. In the years that followed, I grew accustomed to Inge's curiosity and willingness to do right, or 'máát' by her standards, until she better understood our differences of morality and culture. In the years that followed, Inge grew accustomed to acting selflessly.

	I watched Inge try, in her somewhat hampered mastery of Northern, to beg forgiveness for what her 'brothers' had done to the halfling tradeswoman and her own. She was not forgiven, but she took the fear, the anger spat at her in stride, not daring to interrupt the victim of her peers' violence as she vented, let loose her bile and spilled bitter tears. Inge only collapsed in a heap back outside of the town's reach when she realized just how much she and her own were responsible for all that anger and grief the old woman had suffered. It was heart wrenching. I consoled the child, as well as I could, telling her she did what she could. That she did right, just then. She was held accountable for crimes she may not have committed, and that that was a consequence for the suffering the woman had to endure. I believed her when she said she hadn't as much as touched a plank on that cart, but could not say that much. What I could say, was that I was proud she could face a grieving widow and mother like that for what had happened.

	I watched the years go by, and the child grow. Icewind Dale is not kind, but it produces hardy, hearty folk. Inge would be no exception as she took to the tutoring of myself and the elders teaching the youths at Termalaine so well. I hunted with her, and recounted my old lessons creating my first and only bow so she could make her own. We had to find a suitably tall, young tree for the arc and limbs. And boar guts, we learned, made poor bowstrings when we did find a suitable length of wood we could work. I was as amazed as Inge was when we both managed to nock the string proper to each end of the limbs; a hammerwoman making a sturdy, flexible bow worth keeping. No doubt my father, a master fletcher to this day, would be horrified to learn just how poorly I kept my skills compared to this 'dwarven malarkey.' And while the initial practices for fletching ended in blood and tears and me tending to Inge's wounds, through dedication and persistance, her first arrow flew true, deep into a tree and poking out the other side.

	Eventually, even Termalaine saw Inge and myself as regulars of the town. Between hunting and gathering, she did her part in hauling minerals and metals from the Agorwal mines. She became content in the appreciation, and took well to the lessons I imparted on her I was taught over the years before I was admitted to the Knights of the Ruby Rose. "If you can look into the eyes of a person who needed your help, and know that he truly feels grateful for you, that is worth more than any mortal prize. For when you die, you will not be judged by titles, medals, riches, nor by any words save the words spoken by you." I remember well my Master Gwinne teaching me that wisdom. Inge amended those words with a sage observation. "That is truly máát."

	Inge and I took to travel across the plains and highways, doing as I always had done. But now, I had a page at my side. Wanderlust and wonder was best shared with someone of like mind. Her tireless stride strove me to match it. My muscles ached after every day of marching, of keeping the roads clear of danger, but I welcomed it. Inge became all the more versed in bowmanship, and learned of the little peoples' customs readily, proving herself to be an attentive and inquisitive young woman. Throughout the Ten Towns, we would become a familiar sight, aiding merchants and patrols where we could. Even when we inevitably faced off against marauding frost giants, Inge acted without reservation and shot to impair, to hamper, or to warn. 

	The years only made her grow taller, thicker, and leaner. I could see how she lost the lanky, ungainly posture of her teen self to the tall, steadfast and bright-eyed giantess Inge had become. Her long, white hair we combed and braided together into thick braids tied behind her back with bands of tourmaline and silver. Her body filled out to lose the lack of definition a boyish girl tended to have until they grow into women proper. She grew into an enviable young lady, towering almost three times my height if she stood on tip-toes. Inge loved to sing, and took to songs readily, even learning that one song about a fiery red haired lass awaiting a sailor from every port every night that to this day still makes my ears flush. Books and stories she devoured, provided I could read them to her from those small, little-folk tomes, which I gladly did for the sake of inflaming my own passions.

	My heart swelled with joy at every little victory of ours across the tundra, the plains, the rolling hills of Icewind Dale. Inge was becoming a deadeye with her bow. She could pierce a dire boar through the eye socket from one end of a dense copse to the far end ahead. Her manner, while a bit coarse, showed a refinement and a mindfulness for etiquette I sometimes had to browbeat into her. I called her squire, for her care for my gear certainly earned her that much of a proper title, and she set out to herald me like a bard might do. Every day, we both prayed together, to our ancestors, to do right, and to renew my word and hers to Sune. I would lie if I said my only wish being but a kindness on the way of someone I met a day. Nothing could make me happier than to watch my young charge grow up as she did. Those sixteen years were among the fondest days of my life, indeed.

	That is why it was so difficult to help her in her understanding of love. She was not bound by an oath to chastity, so young as she was, barely two scores of age. And while I could explain the concepts of romance, courtly love, and physicality, there was my oath making it difficult to fully explain away her questions.

	So it was during a chilly summer afternoon, both of us lounging against the heated stone under a clear sun, clothes, armour, kit discarded away for us to just dry up after some bathing in a river away, that she asked me, frankly and without fear of offending me, the dear heart trusting me, her knight.

	"Did you fall in love before, Serendre?" Inge asked with a soft, airy tone to her voice, belying her size and age.

	"Twice," I answered, "but I was tempered by two truths. Humans live not as long as elves do. And the second truth came, when I realized that I could not seperate my belief that all the world's evils and harm could not match the true love of two hearts as one. My place was at the forefront, as a shield for every man, woman and child I could keep."

	"Don't you find that difficult?"

	I slowly turned around on my side to regard Inge. The frost giantess turned around to match my movements, her tall, pale blue form drawn by thin blue lines of scars healed over along her every limb. Her hair was neat and clean, almost as white as driven snow, tightly wound against her scalp by our braiding. Her eyes were a lighter shade of blue, almost as if I looked upon unsullied skies. Her limbs, her chest, her stomach, all had the contours of tight, lean muscles that I know could spring to action quite readily. Her breasts were small, but plump, shaping slightly under their own weight against each other and the stone beneath. She had the loveliest face, pointed slightly, like a frozen drop of rain, her features sticking out from her, pointed and sharp. Her neck was long and slender, framed by the jangling chains of silver and tourmaline that hung from her pierced ears. Her lips looked pale and small, not quite having lost some of those boyish looks. The curve of her body, however, while lean and muscular, did show she was a shapely young woman. 

	I slightly averted my gaze, feeling guilty about regarding Inge so openly. Not like it would be a first time I have seen her like this, but in the light of her question, it weighed upon me.

	"At times, yes," I admitted with a low voice. "There have been times that I wonder if my decision was a right one. It is a doubt I am not ashamed of to tell you."

	Inge nodded sagely. "Máát," she simply said in Jotunise. It was good. It was right.

	I lightly reached out with my own arm towards Inge's hand splayed out in front of her. My somewhat bronzed skin was a sharp contrast to the blue of the giantess' hide, and my skin was taut, more taut than hers, from the rigors of my exercises and my continued martial prowess. Her eyes slightly lit up, a small smile playing along her face, as Inge curled her pointer and middle finger with her tumb gently against my much smaller hand, giving me a fond squeeze.

	"Was there something bothering you then, Inge?" I asked in a soft voice. "Feeling something for that hunter at Caer-Konig?"

	Inge pulled her hand away, turning away and on her back to burst out into laughter. I couldn't help but join in on her reaction, heaving a deep breath when we both fell silent again.

	"Nah. Bit too simple in the head. He's a nice guy, but I doubt I could recount the great Hunt of the Barbarian Tribes with him so easily for some songs back and forth," Inge finally said, shaking her head slightly. "But there is... someone."

	This definitely piqued my curiosity, and I leaned up to plant my feet against the warm stone, my elbows bracing me against it as well. "You're just not sure how to approach them?" I asked, not daring to pry about who my squire might fancy. I caught her biting her lower lip in thought as she stared up at the sky, mulling over how to answer my question. She glanced at me back from the corner of her eye.

	"Yeah. That's exactly it."

	"Best way to find out is to ask. To tell them how you feel. You've sung more shocking ballads before than telling them how you feel about the one you fancy." 

	I didn't even need to hum a few bars of 'Rivers Gold' before Inge began to hum and burst into a fit of giggles. She raised her eyes skyward again, slightly rolling them.

	"The thing is, Inge," I continued, "is that your love comes from your very soul. It reveals your true face to the world, fair or foul. You needn't hide it, for if it's true, it may be reciprocated, brighter than your own love for them. Speak out, and see where it takes you. There is no loss in being denied, only in never daring."

	The giantess slightly quivered her lip as she seemed to speak up, but then silenced herself. "I don't think she could-"

	I smiled, and then openly laughed as she realized I at least gathered this much. She cursed, but I did not feel the need to reprimand. "I think we're going to seek out your fancy when we have returned to civilization, my dear."

	Inge's expression slightly fell, though she smiled at me, nodding after my words of consolation and affirmation. "You will woo her with a song on your lips, and with deeds in your wake. Sune will surely watch over you."

	"I hope so, yes," the giantess answered, but I found her tone a bit meek compared to how she spoke earlier.

	In hindsight, I should have perhaps seen it coming.

	The morning prayers were uneventful. A call to ancestors, giant and elven alike, what I had taken from her, and which she joins in on with me with reverence. And then our pledges, hers as a squire, my own as her paladin. Our only differences were our arms and tools. But in so doing, our pledges were our own.

	"Today again I pray to thee, Sune, and return to duty mine. That I may stand and weather hardships, so others will follow. That I may judge wisely, and fairly, yet immediately. That I may inspire, as I improve upon myself, my flaws and faults. That I may let my years and trials rule my judgment, and not my heart. That I may speak up and defend those that cannot do so themselves. That my shield may safeguard the travellers, the lovers, the jubilant. That love burns brightly if I can help it. My only wish, a kindness on the way of someone I meet."

	"That love burns brightly, if I can help it. My only wish, a kindness on the way of someone I meet," Inge echoed after me, waiting for me to blow out our candles before we inhaled the fragrance of our candles after our prayer. 

	She fitted her clothes and boots, and made sure her bow and cudgel were secured, but easily drawn from her person. I took to her gentle, great hands to clasp my heavy, mostly undecorated armour around my body, reaching around for my clasps while she pushed my breastplate against my breasts and lower back. I fastened my gorget around my throat a little tighter, leaving enough room for my head to move. My gauntlets and kettle hat were last to be fitted. And with that, we were out from our hidden resting place, out to Caer-Konig for rapport and perchance to see if we could find ourselves a trade vessel willing to carry us across the great Lac Dinneshere.

	The journey was about a day's march, but for the most part, it was uneventful. Goblins raiding the roadside, and barely having had a chance to flee when Inge's bow struck them true. The little runts were barely deserving of mercy, and would have otherwise harassed travellers later, elsewhere. She left only a smattering alive, which would do well in keeping the superstitious beasts away from the roads for a few days again.

	Beyond that, I tried to pry Inge for who exactly she fancied, and if she had something on her mind already to speak. The fact that she was unsure what to say, when otherwise she spoke freely and openly, should have clued me in. But I simply took that as nervosity in the presence of her lady-knight keeper. Shy and withdrawn, to a fault I had not yet recognized in my charge to that day.

	There were a few miles yet to the town to go, but already we could see in the dark of evening the lights of the town ahead. The moon loomed high overhead, the stars shone bright.

	"Shall we try to press on and reach town tonight?" I asked Inge. "Such a blessed clear sky is a good omen, after all."

The giantess, surprisingly, gave a chipper smile and reply. "Isn't it just? But I think we will be fine not to march on. Clouds look right. No blizzard tonight, yes?"

	I wasn't exactly sure what to make of that, simply acquiescing in her desire to just find shelter for the night. We found a mostly abandoned cave just a ways northwest, barring some bats roosting. It was a bit snug, especially if we wanted to make a small fire with our last firewood, but we made do. It just meant disrobing most of the clamping, pinching armour and to be cosy together against one another.

	By the time I had started a fire, and I settled myself against Inge's spread thighs and against her leather-clad stomach, she gingerly helped me get out of my armour and gear until I was in my chain undercoat and my thick pants and socks. The size difference was a little disorienting, even to this day, making me like a doll in the embrace of a child. But just as tenderly, Inge held and removed my garments until I settled against her thick, muscular legs, gently drumming my fingers across her legs against her pants.

	We ate. We drank. We heated up with ample amounts of warming wine settling in our bellies. Inge awkwardly nudged me, trying to catch my attention. I looked up at her, her expression looking a little sullen.

	"Actually. I wanted to practice something tonight if that were alright with you, lady Serendre," Inge stated all proper and terse. This definitely caught my attention.

	"If you would, please listen to this? I haven't thought about singing it to you before, but I wanted to make sure I would... please her with a song I thought up over the past few days."

	I leaned back into her stomach, smiling brightly up at my charge. "I would be honoured to hear your lady's song, my dear."

	She cleared her throat, loud enough to spook a few bats, and for her to break the tension a little. And then, with that familiar low thrum I could feel and hear when she started her deep singing, she began. It was Jotunise bellowing, melodic and low. Throaty long syllables drawn out like the long notes of great pipes. The words came in slow and crept in like a trickle of melting ice water.

	"Would~You~Love~Me~True," the Jotunise started, deep tones that actually made me rumble pleasantly, and reverbrated against the walls of the cave we were in,
	"If~Words~Would~Be~Broken"
	"If~Harsh~Truths~Would~Bend"
	"And~True~Love~Be~Spoken"

	In there, the song broke, her voice taking on the more familiar higher lilt, and with the voice of an angel, she besieged her dear listener in more common parlance to hear her speak most faithful, most truthful, her affection for someone so beautiful. That I could forgive her for her heart to be crying with joy?

	She shook a little where she sat, and I could feel a warm, salty tear fall on the back of my right hand. I immediately looked up at her from my reverie from her song to see her just sit, bolt upright, barely able to speak or breathe but cry.

	"S-Sorry," Inge appologized. "I g-guess I needed to compose myself a little more."

	"You wouldn't want to break down in tears for your beloved on your serenade, after all," I said softly, gently stroking along her side with my right arm.

	I watched her try, and fail, to compose herself. I slowly righted myself against her body until I could stand up straight before her, calling to her with a firm voice. "You moved me. I would count myself lucky to be her. She will be honoured with that kind of adoration so plain as day on your lips."

	Inge shook again, sniffing deep and loud. Her pale blue eyes slowly opened up to meet my own, her large hand lowering to stroke a large pointer finger along my fiery red locks, down towards my cheek. 

	"Is it?" she asked

	"As plain as day," I responded with mothering affection, resting a hand on the back of her nail of the finger brushing my face.

	Maybe the years in solitude dulled my senses. I ignored every little note, sign, and omen. I am not worthy of being anyone's tutor on love at all.

	We prepared for the night. She laid with her back towards the mouth of the cave. I laid opposite of her, keeping watch of the flames against the wall of cave, lest Inge might burn herself if she turned in her sleep. Without my magic, I admittedly fall asleep quite easily. The warm wine also helped, and we drank a little extra as a nightcap following Inge's tearful pause.

	I guess I deserved whatever came to me.

	I felt warmth touch my skin as I barely had closed my eyes. Or at least, it felt like such. Soft, pliant cushioning warmth caressed my feet and legs. Gentle pressure caressed my cheek. When I adjusted my eyes to the light, I saw my charge sprawled out across her stomach before me, looking up towards me with her fingers reaching out for my face. Her face looked a little sullen and forlorn as she stroked my small face in comparison to her own, breathing her breath across my skin, causing me to get goosebumps. I sat, petrified, mortified at what happened. I only barely realized she had removed her upper garments as she gently clasped her fingers around my lower body, gently canting me back while her other hand cradled my shoulders, neck and head. Her giant-kin chill suffused me as she dared press her lips to my face, an awkward, oversized kiss that left me speechless.

	"It's you, pin-ears," she said sadly. I hadn't heard that name in over a decade from her, a short-lived name from her early days under me. "You said it was clear as day."

	I struggled to find the words. The words to answer her. The words to express my indignant anger. I wanted to demand she release me. I wanted to ask her what she thought she was doing. All that, and more. But in all these days, I neglected two duties. The nurturing of the love's flame that burns brightly if I could help it was one of them. 

	As I still found no way to express myself, Inge cradled me closer to her face, stroking my  body with all the care she could muster, easily able to overpower me without my gear. Without my strength. Without my conviction.

	"There's no-one else in the world I can look up to. I love you. You are máát."

	I felt myself grow lax. I felt my heart grow weary and weighty and heavier than the burdens of deaths upon my conscience, than collapse of stone and earth on my person, than the crushing grip of evil. I felt a betrayal take hold of me as I slowly reached out towards my Inge, my squire, my charge, my limbs slowly curling around the curve of her jawline, the lobe of her ears.

	"We can't do this, Inge," I finally had the courage to say. I kissed her nose gently. I did not want to hurt someone so dear to me. "This isn't right."

	Inge forcefully pressed her lips against my own again, kissing me earnestly. It was pleasantly cool to my skin, it was making my head swim, and I feared for a moment how far I could betray her, betray myself, betray Sune.

	"This is máát," she said with a certainty in her voice that made me keenly aware of just how small I was to her. Her fingers against the back of my head curled and passed my long ears, flicking them just slightly in passing. I could feel myself burning against her cool touch. I watched how she parted her lips and kissed me again, slowly pressing my head back to press her lips against my jaw and throat. When she pulled back, I held on. I pulled her back in. I kissed her, and offered her her first kiss back, sucking on her lower lip.

	My second duty I neglected that night would be my oath of chastity to Lady Sune.

	I didn't break the kiss until I gently drew back to draw breath again. Inge slowly held me up in her hands, letting her fingers wander over my armour coat and down my limbs. A momentary impassé. And then I made the first move, carefully undoing the buckles of my belt, opening up my coat. Inge pealed it off me leaving me only to squirm against her slender hands dressed in a simple pair of pants, shirt and socks of wool. Like a little doll, she canted my arms up and over, nudging with her nose against my taut, toned stomach until she could gently lift my shirt off my chest and over my arms and head. I allowed it. I had already given in to transgression for her.

	She regarded my trim, toned form with large, bright eyes, letting her fingertips wander across my nearly small breasts. Compared to Inge, my body bore little extra padding, and my breasts always were nothing much to write home about. But to Inge, my small tits were a gorgeous treasure dotting my frame, slightly pliant and bouncing back against her finger's soft push up before she drew her digit away. I could see her look at me, rather than from the corner of her eyes, openly gawking me.

	"You're beautiful."

	My long ears flushed at the words.

	I should have stopped. I should have said that this was all she could see. But it was I that kissed her. It was I that didn't say stop there and then. She adored me. I loved her true. I spoke, not with experience, not with restraint. It was the first thing that came to mind.

	"Take it all in. Take your time."

	She did. Sune, blessed love, she did. Her chilly lips slowly wrapped around my mounds, sucking lightly on my breasts and letting the cool and broad tip of her tongue lash over my tits that made me cringe and squirm and feel as if I was on fire. I squeezed her earlobes tightly in my hands as she made me moan around her sloppy tongue's caress, and the following kiss I returned in earnest. My tongue met the small groove of her halfway parted lips. She slowly returned the favour, overpowering my tongue easily and just probing and pushing against my wide-open mouth.

	Our kiss was awkward, unnatural. But we lost each other in one another's embrace. I could feel her fingers gently clench around my body. I slowly ground to meet with her. I lost count how long I kissed Inge. I didn't want it to stop, which was the point where I realized my word to Sune was worth nothing. And yet I cared not, at that moment, at that time. I simply slowly spread myself in my squire's hands, panting like a dog as the she-giant slowly peeled my pants down from my groin, admiring the way my legs and groin stood, the chisel of my adductors to the rest of my inner thighs. She slowly let her pointer finger travel down my abdominals, caressing the faint lines of my stomach until she followed the outward curve of my nearly hairless pubic mound with her digit.

	In all these years I had nearly forgotten how the anticipation was such a delight. In Inge's inexperience, she took her sweet time in wandering my naked body with her breath, her eyes, her fingertip, until she carefully pulled my pants free from my legs, leaving me dressed only in my winter socks.

	Inge stayed silent and regarded me, breathing her breath across my naked vulva. Every little hair on my body stood on end. I was helpless before her.

	"I've... only read the books and heard the stories," Inge started. "So... please..."

	I was beyond redemption. I squeezed her earlobes tenderly.

	"I will guide you. Part your lips just slightly."

	She did. My thoughts, for just a moment, wandered to my youth, to my own fancy, long before my oath I was willingly breaking. My own worry, my own inexperience, only having seen the hairless bodies of my peers in our explorations. If the voluptuousness and the hair was as confusing for me towards Lady Gwinne as my chiseled, nearly hairless self was to inge, I could perfectly relate. And like how I was guided by the ears towards my destination, so too I did so for the giantess cradling me in her great hands.

	"Slowly press them against me, and suck just so."

	I puckered my lips, and saw how she canted her head to watch me, and at the same time to kiss me. Her lips brushed over my stomach, sucking, kissing, smearing spittle just slightly across my bronzed hide. At the bump of my mound, she paused, and I continued my instruction.

	"Hold me just like that, a little closer. And carefully nudge. And nuuudge. And touch. Look at what you touch."

	She did. She slowly canted me back, my lower body upwards and aimed towards her mouth as she took her first tentative kissing touches against my spread thighs. She saw how my lips neatly spread, how not a tiny fold of skin pushed past my outer lips. A tiny crease that made me see sparks was something she realized to be very much like her own clitoris. And when that broad tongue began to lather across my thighs, my puss, my arse... my spread, shameless self, I simply could not hold back my crying voice.

	My resolve, gone. I was just there for my squire.

	She used my sounds as a gauge, determining what worked, what did not. Admittedly, in my charged state, in my absolute devotion to Sune up to then, everything felt right. I could feel the chill of her tongue press my most sensitive flesh apart, numbing some of me, putting me to fire elsewhere. She sucked. Oh Sune, she sucked, and I squealed like a young girl as she held the suction and then let it go with a muted smack. 

	She nudged my lips and my rump with her nose, and I could feel how her moist spit spread all the further across my skin until she was back to pressing her lips into my own lips, her nose resting square atop my pubic mound. 

	"Your tongue. Please. Your tongue."

	She obliged, her cool, slimy taster pressing into my puss until I surprised her with my eager bouncing against the crook of her fingers, grinding my vulva right against her tongue. Muted wet splats could be heard as I used her tongue to masturbate, one smack at a time, until she pushed back into me, sucking at my swollen spread lips.

	I didn't even recall blacking out. But when my vision did return, stars still filling my eyes, I could see her, breathing heavily across me, her lips and chin slightly moist with my juices and hers.

	I gently squeezed Inge's ears, pulling her closer until I was caressing her face, her hair, my feet resting on her breasts. I kissed her, peppered her cool blue skin with affection every which way, until Inge cried out with laughter and returned my affection, forcing me to stay put, lest I'd get smothered by the giantess.

	We stayed put like this, for a little while. Stroking each other's faces, her caressing my naked back and sides. I could collect my thoughts. I felt jubilant. I felt like I changed something wonderful in my squire, even if it costed dearly. My regrets were, at that time, abated.

	"How about I return your kindness, Inge, my dear?"

	The she-giant bit her lower lip anxiously as she slowly released her grip on me, allowing me to adjust my posture in her fingers' embrace. When I finally, wobbly, stepped to the cold cavern floor, I leaned up against Inge, gently urging her to turn around on her side. She flopped over further, carefully scooping me up to hold against her chest. Perfect.

	My broad figure stretched out across her prone body, my knees lightly digging into her ribs as I righted myself and hugged myself against her plump mounds. Her dark blue areolae looked puckered, taut, and firm. Each nipple was easily the size of my fist. I gripped them in my hands and firmly squeezed them as best I could. A twist that made her clench and squirm almost had me lose balance, until I called down to her to stay put. And she heeded.

	I took my time to slowly lower my face towards her right nipple, squeezing it, pumping it, stroking the blue teat until I could wrap my lips around it. Too big. I craned my head down, instead, and bit into the puckered skin instead. Inge's response was immediate, a loud yelp that caused her lower body to rock up and her breathing to stutter as she whimpered out. I struck gold. I started slathering her teat with my saliva before I bit down again, earning a muted mewl from my squire as she bit her own lower lip. My hands took over from my mouth at her right nipple, until I could angle myself to tend to her left. I sucked, I kissed, I bit, I bucked. She bucked, she squealed, she tensed and twitched. 

	I didn't stop kneading and biting at her until my jaw was sore. Her squeals and peals were the sweetest, most joyful sounds I ever had heard. I loved hearing her like so. Sune forgive me, I love my darling squire.

	She was helpless to my kisses, my touches, as I slid down her breasts and across her stomach. It was literally a slide away from her own mount, a bushy but trimmed forest of snowy white curls around dark blue curtains of silk. I slowly approached her between her legs, planting my feet in the messy puddle gathered between her thighs and glutes on the stone floor with a splat. I set my hands down on her lower abdomen, looking her tersely in the eyes.

	"Try not to close your legs," I warned. Inge just mutely nodded after me, staring at me as I regarded what I could only describe as the most beautiful vulva I had regarded in quite some time. I stood easily twice as tall as her pelvis was high, and saw how far the hairs trailed down along and past her labiae. Her inner lips were crinkled and loosely folded together. I could see a faint fog rising from her mound. I leaned my face down, could taste her very scent heavy and heady on my tongue and nose. Pleasant. Earthy. I brought my fingers towards her vulva, exploring the coolness of her outer flesh, until I found my fingers dipping into her blue, almost pale so flushed with her blood, pliant honeypot. Her insides were as hot as I had been, so deep down, but my fingers reached in just easily. I balled up my right hand into a fist, slowly pushing inwards I pressed my fingers up into her walls.

	The response was immediate, her body clenching around me, trapping my arm painfully against her tight muscles until she relaxed, shivering, panting, her legs barely able to stay open. Yet I stayed, I even leaned in low, dipping my face into her moistened, plump pubic mound, tasting and smelling her womanhood. My left hand joined, slowly inching one after the other finger in until I used my two arms to caress her canal, and could literally bump my head into the hood of her pearl.

	Inge squealed, I could tell how her joy oozed out of her with every slow nudge of my face into her lips. But she called for me to stop. This time, I heeded.

	"This won't... this won't work," she hiccupped, caught between joyful laughter and her concern. "C-C-Come here, Serendre."

	She scooped me up in her right hand, and sat up on her haunches and her rump, pressing her back against the wall of the cave. I craned back against her arm as she held me up against her breasts, looking down dotingly at me. She slightly turned, spread her thighs, and I could see her left hand draw down to her own mound, curving her fingers against and into her juicy opening.

	"Bite... Bite me, please," she whispered.

	I stayed put, a smile playing over my lips.

	"Please. Bite me."

	I made no motion at all even as she pressed herself all the closer towards me, nearly forcing her breast into my body.

	"Please bite my titty!" she all but squealed through clenched teeth.

	I heeded. I needn't be told any further as she mewled and clenched and tensed while I alternated nursing on her puckered nipple and biting down hard on it to cause her to cry out. All the time, I could hear her fingers dipping deep into her own body, squelching, smacking, squishing with her every inwards plunge.  Inge had her eyes closed, just mewling and squeaking through her clenched teeth – it looked and sounded absolutely so unlike her, my squire. But here I was, biting down a final time, causing her to twitch a last and knock her head against the cavern wall hard enough to make it echo.

	Inge slumped forwards, not worse for wear despite the blow. She slowly collapsed back, holding me against her chest. I could hear, feel her beating heart. I stayed silent. I stayed put. As she recovered from her ordeal, she actually slowly slumped back further, looking at me with lidded eyes. We just stayed like that for I don't know how long. She closed her eyes at last, and spoke with a soft, clear voice.

	"I love you, my lady Serendre."

	I stayed quiet still, and stared up at her with lidded eyes, feigning sleep. My mouth parched. I couldn't speak one word. She mumbled softly.

	"Is truuueee."

	And then she was out like a light, and started to lightly snore overhead.

	I slowly untangled myself from my squire's fingers. I pressed closer against Inge, trying to make myself comfortable. But all I could think of, is why I couldn't find the words to answer her. I knew the answer, and it made me feel like I took a sword to the gut.

	For what worth are those three words, 'I love you,' from a paladin that cannot keep her word, that cannot even keep her godsdamned legs closed? I sobbed softly and hugged my squire's body against myself, trying not to make too much noise.

	Sune forgive me. I have broken my vows. But I cannot deny the truth, either. Inge was right. It was máát.