"I... what? Giants? What the hell do you mean, giants?" I said, my tone verging on panic. I didn't care. Panic is an entirely acceptable response to "giants".

"What part of giants do you not understand?" Erik dragged me across the small room towards the bedroom. "Get your stuff, now. We have to leave." He threw open the door and shoved me inside before rushing over to the cluttered table, grabbing a rucksack as he went and throwing things into it at random. I stood in the bedroom doorway staring stupidly at him.

"Are giants coming here?" I demanded. "Why? What do they want? Are they going to grind our bones into bread?"

"Now is not the best time to be asking questions!" Erik snapped.

"Now is not the best time for giants to be attacking your house!" I countered, a little hysterically. If I was going to be killed and eaten by something twenty times my size, I wanted to know why, damn it.

Erik spun around to face me. "Weren't you listening to a word I said? My job! I deal with problems, problems that afflict the local villagers, like wolves, or giants. I don't know for sure what a giant is doing outside my house, but I'm positive that it isn't about to invite me over for tea. Will it grind our bones into bread? Maybe, if we don't get out of here while we still can. Now get a grip on yourself, grab your stuff, and let's go!"

Another footstep—for those earth shaking crashes had to be footsteps—rattled the small cottage, and I clung to the door frame to keep my balance.

"I... yes, of course. I'm going." I pulled myself together and ran into the bedroom, grabbing my few belongings and throwing my backpack on. Back in the main room, Erik had his on own rucksack and was pushing piles of papers and dishes and whatever else off of the table.

Before I could ask what he was doing, he found what he was looking for. He pulled out a tall bow and a quiver of arrows out of the rubble, slinging the quiver across his back. The bow was taller than Erik, but looked thin and light. It was already strung, and he slung it over his shoulders.

That done, he wasted no more time. He bounded across the room and grabbed me by the wrist, hauling me towards the door.

"Time to go, hopefully we still have a chance to—" He threw the front door open, pulled me across the threshold, and then skidded to a halt so abruptly that I smacked into him, banging my nose painfully against the back of his head.

"Ow! What—" but then I saw what had made him stop. It was impossible to miss, being about thirty feet tall. "Too late," I croaked.

The giant stood before us, looming over the tiny cottage like a malevolent mountain. It was, in essence, a huge man, bigger than anything that isn't a dinosaur had any right to be; but there was something... inhuman about the face. It was subtle, barely noticeable, but there was a violent edge to every line of the face, the set of the jaw, the hard gleam of the eyes.

Erik swallowed audibly. He stepped forward and to the side, so that he had put himself between the giant and me. I might've made a sarcastic comment about the sudden display of chivalry, but I was too preoccupied with feeling guilty that I felt grateful that there was a human shield between me and the monster.

"Erm, good evening," Erik said loudly. He had to tilt his head almost all the way back to look the giant in the face. "Uh, may I ask what brings you here on this lovely evening?"

"You!" bellowed the giant, his voice the trumpet of a bull elephant. "You are the one who routed out the giantess that dwelt in this forest, the one that burned down her home and sent her flying in fear for her life?"

"I... I don't exactly recall... I meet so many people, you see..." Erik said weakly. The giant took a threatening step forward, which put us, and the house, in serious danger of becoming extremely familiar with the bottom of its shoe.

"I know you are the one!"

"Er, I may have had something—" Erik began to admit.

"She is my sister!" roared the giant.

"Oh my god," I groaned.

Erik elbowed me sharply in the ribs. "It wasn't anything personal," he said quickly. "I was just hired to do a job. She moved in too close to the pastures, and was stealing and eating sheep that didn't belong to her."

"Humans do not need so many sheep, she did not take that many. You burned down her home and chased her from the forest just for this?"

"She also ate a few of the shepherds."

"I fail to see what the problem is."

"No, I don't suppose you would," Erik said, a little hoarsely. "Well, from the villagers' standpoint, it couldn't continue. I gave her a chance, I really did; I told her to clear out on her own and it wouldn't need to come to violence. She responded by trying to eat me too, which I'll admit did not encourage me to be too sympathetic after that."

"I do not care for your excuses. You have brought pain and shame upon my family, and I will bring the same to yours! That little female behind you—she is your sister or your wife?"

Yikes. I really hoped the giant hadn't noticed me, but I suppose he had a pretty good vantage point all the way up there.

"Nope, no, neither. She is absolutely no one of consequence, just a complete stranger who happened to find her way to my house, I have never seen her before in my life and in fact, I was just about to throw her out to fend for herself because she means so very, very little to me."

"Liar!" the giant bellowed. "Sister or wife, it does not matter. I will take her and I will burn her up in my hearth, like you tried to burn my sister, and then I will grind her bones and bake them into my bread! And then your bones will follow, little man!"

"Okay, I don't think we're going to be able to talk our way out of this," Erik said under his breath to me.

"You think?" I squeaked back.

"Just do exactly what I say, when I say it, and I'll try to get you out of this alive."

"Oh, I feel so reassured!"

"No more talk," said the giant, squatting down so he was only a mere fifteen feet tall, and putting us within his grabbing range. "If you give up easily, I shall break your necks now so that you feel no pain when I burn the flesh from your bones."

And with that lovely sentiment still ringing in the air, the giant reached out a hand the size of a baby whale and made a swipe at us. Erik shoved me out of the way and then threw himself to the ground, just barely avoiding the clutching fingers.

"Run!" he shouted at me.

"What?" I shrieked back, utterly panicked. "Run where?!"

"Into the forest! Just picked a direction and run!" Erik did an awkward half-roll thing to escape the giant's next grab.

"What about you?" I said frantically, dancing on the spot. I was torn between taking good advice and just booking it, and doing the right thing and... dying with him, I guess? Morality is complicated in situations like these. I didn't know the guy that well, but somehow it felt wrong to just run away with my tail between my legs while he continued to fight what was clearly a losing battle.

"I'll be fine!" he hollered, trying to get his bow from around his neck while simultaneously dodging and weaving every swipe of the giant's hands. "But if you don't get the hell out of here and stop distracting me, I might not be! So go!" He leapt to the side, barely avoiding being crushed by the giant's huge fist as it came crashing down into the ground.

I didn't waste anymore time, I just turned and ran, sprinting into the forest as fast as I could, determined to put as much distance as possible between myself and anyone who wanted to turn me into a loaf of bread.

Night had fallen properly now and the forest was dangerously dark. I ran blindly, no idea in what direction I was heading, trying to avoid low hanging branches and thorny bushes without slowing my pace. 

I ran until I started to get a stitch in my side, and my breath came in short, uneven gasps. I was painfully aware that I hadn't been running for very long or gone very far, but I was so out of shape that this brief flight had already left me exhausted. God damn, why didn't I just do more cardio before my life depended on it?

Somehow I forced myself to keep going, alternating between bursts of all out sprinting, and staggering, spluttering half-jogging.

And then...

The stupid root was a good four or five inches off the ground, and in the darkness of the night, I never had a chance. My foot caught suddenly and I went down like a sack of bricks, face planting right into the soft dirt.

I didn't bother getting up at first. I just lay there, panting hard, tasting the clay and metal in the soil and feeling pathetically, hopelessly sorry for myself.

What was I going to do know? Where was I going to go? I was all alone in the woods; woods probably filled with wolves and witches and God knows what else, with no idea where the nearest town was, and completely separated from the one single person who had offered me any sort of help.

"What am I going to do now?" I asked aloud, tears springing unbidden into my eyes.

To my utmost surprise, I received an answer.

"You could always ask for help, you know," said a harsh, high-pitched voice. I scrambled to my feet, my emotions swinging wildly from relieved to frightened, and wishing I had more to defend myself with than my searing wit and a black belt in sarcasm.

"Who's there?" I demanded. I peered through the darkness, straining to see the person that belonged to the voice. I was about to ask again, but just then the culprit stepped into my line of vision.

The first thing I noticed about him was that he was unusually short. The top of his grey haired head only reached my hip. He was rather stooped, and "old" didn't seem quite as appropriate as "dangerously past his expiration date"; but he moved with a lithe quickness that seemed inappropriate for his age and stature. Especially his eyes. They darted from my face to the surrounding trees with such a vigor and youthful intensity. They seemed misplaced in the old man's wrinkled face.

I was too stunned to move, so he took the initiative and hobbled up to me, using a gnarled old walking stick for support. He didn't stop until he was uncomfortably close, glowering up at me.

"Stupid girl doesn't know when to ask for help," he muttered, and he whacked me hard across the knees with his cane.

"Ow, hey!" I yelped, jumping hastily out of his reach.

"In these parts," he growled, "there is always someone around to... help maidens in distress." 

The way he said help made it sound like there was some secret, sinister meaning of the word that no one had told me about before, and a grin I did not like spread across his wizened face.

I groaned again. Great, what was he going to do to me? Eat my flesh? Kidnap me and make me serve him for the next 100 years? Make me sell my eternal soul to him in exchange for becoming really good at playing the blues?

"And what exactly is it you want in return?" I asked without any real hope, knowing help always came at a price in these stories.

The old gnome's grin widened. "Me? Want something in return? No, just the satisfaction of knowing I helped such a lovely lady is enough for me. But—" he added quickly, when I opened my mouth to say that sounded just fine by me, thank you very much. "If you insist... We'll make a deal. A contest, actually. If you win, I'll help you with whatever it is you want."

"And if you win?" I asked wearily, expecting something appropriately horrible.

"If I win, I get your first born child." He grinned even wider, if that were possible. 

The first thing I felt rush through my body was fear. I sucked at contests of any sorts, and the stakes were high, unreasonably high—ridiculously, impractically high...

But then relief flooded through me. I almost laughed aloud, but managed to hold it in. "Hm, well, I don't know..." I said with a straight face, tapping my chin. "It seems like a tough bargain."

The old man shrugged. "Fine then. I'll be on my way," he said, and he spun around.

"Wait!" I called, like he knew I would. He turned again to face me, his wicked grin back in place. "I'll do it. What's the game?" I asked.

"The game is simple. All you have to do is guess my name. Not too hard, is it?" he asked, peering up at me.

I grinned back at him, which only made his own grow even wider, since he seemed to take my smile as a sign of overconfidence. He was sure I wouldn't get it.

"I am not unreasonable, however. I can give you the information you wish now, and then I shall leave you be, until the birth of your firstborn. You shall have until that meeting to try to discover my true name."

"Actually," I said, "I think I'll have a go of it right now, if you don't mind."

The gnome was clearly shocked. He blinked a few times at me, and then his eyes narrowed in suspicion. "Right now? Are you sure?"

I shrugged. "I'm a pretty good guesser," I assured him.

For a moment, I thought he was going to refuse, that he knew something was up. But then his hubris overtook him, and his certainty that he was far too clever for the likes of me pushed any doubt from his wicked little mind. 

"If you insist, who am I to argue? The rules, then. You have three guesses, no more. If you don't guess my true name by the third guess, I take your first born. I will find you no matter where you go, so there will be no point in hiding."

"Believe me, I know," I muttered under my breath. "So your name, huh?" I said louder. Three guesses, huh? I played it up a little, worked with what I had. "Let me see... is it Conrad?" I asked, trying to look pensive.

He shook his head. "No. Not Conrad."

"Hmm... might it be... Harry?" I ventured.

The little man grinned so wide I though his head would split in two. "No, not Henry either!" he said, now eagerly jumping from foot to foot with anticipation. He was sure I would never get it.

I sighed hugely. "Well then, I guess this is my last guess. I have to make it worthwhile." I said sadly. I feared I was overdoing it, but the little manikin didn't seem to notice through his own glee. "Now what could it be? Perhaps... perhaps your name is Rumpelstiltskin?" I asked, trying to look as innocent as I could, as if the ridiculous name had organically and randomly occurred to me.

The little man froze in place, his grin suddenly wiped from his face. "The devil has told you that! The devil has told you that!" he shrieked, turning purple in the face. In his anger, he stomped his feet, like a little kid throwing a temper tantrum. Only when he brought his right foot down, his leg plunged right through the ground with the force of it, so deep into the earth that his whole leg went in. And then, his fury apparently overcoming him, he grabbed his leg with both hands, intending to pull it out, but instead he pulled at his thigh so hard with both hands that he tore himself in right half, blood flying through the air, splattering my face and clothes.