Behemoth ⁞ SHEPHERD GIANT

The afternoon sun was warm on Behemoth’s back as he watched his flock roam the green meadow. A black sheep, one of his favorites, had strayed too far towards the jagged rocks that marked the trolls’ territory. He moved with care that contrasted his immense size, his large hand gently scooping the creature from the ground.

"You stay with mate," he rumbled, his voice a low, gravelly whisper meant to soothe the animal rather than startle.

He set the sheep down beside its white-wooled companion, giving its fleece a soft pat with the tip of his finger. He had been out for hours, a length of time he would convince himself was for the herding work, but in truth, he needed the open air to breathe and to think.

It had been one full month since they had arrived. The royal knights, their armor shining in the plain's light, had delivered the King and Queen's decree along with their own child, a peace offering he never asked for. He was confused then, and he was confused now, though for different reasons. The humans must have wrongly thought him a king among giants, just because he was the biggest. The truth was he was one of the youngest, and all his kin wanted was solitude.

A quiet huff escaped him as he absently pet another sheep, his mind inevitably circling back to the person now waiting in his cave and a warm blush crept across his broad cheeks.

His feelings were a mess he didn't want to unravel. It had started as weird, uncomfortable, but was slowly transforming into something new. He was not skilled at reading others, but he knew the feeling was mutual. He remembered the way they would flush when he picked them up, the little gasps when he carried them on his shoulder to show them the view from up high. Their small flirtations, whether intentional or not, made his heart pound so loudly he was sure they could feel it hammering through his chest when they slept curled against him for warmth in the vast darkness of the cave.

Behemoth was falling, and the surprise of it was terrifying to the giant.

"Behemoth! You look constipated thinking so hard!" a booming voice shattered his reverie.

He flinched and looked up to see another giant, an older male named Sera, grinning at him from across a small creek. Behemoth’s blush deepened to a dark shade across his nose and cheeks. He shook his great head, his long hair shifting in the sunlight.

"Just... work," he muttered.

Sera's grin faded into a more serious, wary expression. "Speaking of work, when are you tossing that human out? They do not belong here."

The suspicion in the other giant's tone was a familiar refrain among his kind. Though the reaction in Behemoth was instant and unexpected, a protective feeling that rose from a place he did not know he had.

"They are victim too," he said, his voice losing its softness and gaining a defensive, rough edge. "No more choice than me."

The words felt right and natural, a truth he had only just fully admitted to himself. He stopped short, realizing how forcefully he had spoken. The other giants nearby had paused their own work to look at him, their expressions a mixture of surprise and confusion, as if he had grown an extra head.

Suddenly desperate to escape their stares, Behemoth mumbled a quick excuse. He gathered a good portion of his placid, bleating flock into his large hands, the animals utterly nonchalant about being snatched like toys, and hurried back towards the safety of his own land.

His cave was a welcome sight, a deep opening in a rocky hillside. He gently set the sheep down to graze with the others already outside and ducked his head to step through the entrance.

---

Inside, the dim light from the entrance illuminated the vast space. His eyes, wide even in the dim room, found them immediately. They were a small figure sitting on the tremendous bed he had built, a speck on the landscape of colossal boar furs. He had carved them stairs to climb up whenever they wished.

Seeing them there, in the center of his home made his chest feel fuzzy. Shyness washed over him as he approached, the cluster of wildflowers he had picked along the way held delicately between his thumb and forefinger. Their petals were a burst of purple and yellow against his skin.

He knelt beside the bed, the stone floor rattling softly under his knee, bringing his massive face down to be somewhat level with them. He was still so much larger, but he tried to make himself small. He extended his hand, offering the tiny bouquet.

"For you," he whispered, his voice a low rumble in the quiet cave.

He took a slow breath, his golden-brown eyes soft and earnest. "Behemoth has been thinking. For one month, you are here. It was... not good start."

He looked down, then back at them, his expression full of tenderness.

"I am beginning to feel something for you. Something strong." The confession settled between them. "I want to make it right. I want to be... a proper husband. If you will have me."

He paused, the final part of his proposition making his own ears grow hot and his lower regions tingly. "That would mean... proper wedding night. If you allow me. I'll...gentle"

The afternoon sun was warm on Behemoth’s back as he watched his flock roam the green meadow. A black sheep, one of his favorites, had strayed too far towards the jagged rocks that marked the trolls’ territory. He moved with care that contrasted his immense size, his large hand gently scooping the creature from the ground.

"You stay with mate," he rumbled, his voice a low, gravelly whisper meant to soothe the animal rather than startle.

He set the sheep down beside its white-wooled companion, giving its fleece a soft pat with the tip of his finger. He had been out for hours, a length of time he would convince himself was for the herding work, but in truth, he needed the open air to breathe and to think.

It had been one full month since they had arrived. The royal knights, their armor shining in the plain's light, had delivered the King and Queen's decree along with their own daughter, a peace offering he never asked for. He was confused then, and he was confused now, though for different reasons. The humans must have wrongly thought him a king among giants, just because he was the biggest. The truth was he was one of the youngest, and all his kin wanted was solitude.

A quiet huff escaped him as he absently pet another sheep, his mind inevitably circling back to the woman now waiting in his cave and a warm blush crept across his broad cheeks.

His feelings were a mess he didn't want to unravel. It had started as weird, uncomfortable, but was slowly transforming into something new. He was not skilled at reading others, but he knew the feeling was mutual. He remembered the way she would flush when he picked her up, the little gasps when he carried her on his shoulder to show her the view from up high. Her small flirtations, whether intentional or not, made his heart pound so loudly he was sure she could feel it hammering through his chest when she slept curled against him for warmth in the vast darkness of the cave.

Behemoth was falling, and the surprise of it was terrifying to the giant.

"Behemoth! You look constipated thinking so hard!" a booming voice shattered his reverie.

He flinched and looked up to see another giant, an older male named Sera, grinning at him from across a small creek. Behemoth’s blush deepened to a dark shade across his nose and cheeks. He shook his great head, his long hair shifting in the sunlight.

"Just... work," he muttered.

Sera's grin faded into a more serious, wary expression. "Speaking of work, when are you tossing that princess out? She does not belong here."

The suspicion in the other giant's tone was a familiar refrain among his kind. Though the reaction in Behemoth was instant and unexpected, a protective feeling that rose from a place he did not know he had.

"She is victim too," he said, his voice losing its softness and gaining a defensive, rough edge. "No more choice than me."

The words felt right and natural, a truth he had only just fully admitted to himself. He stopped short, realizing how forcefully he had spoken. The other giants nearby had paused their own work to look at him, their expressions a mixture of surprise and confusion, as if he had grown an extra head.

Suddenly desperate to escape their stares, Behemoth mumbled a quick excuse. He gathered a good portion of his placid, bleating flock into his large hands, the animals utterly nonchalant about being snatched like toys, and hurried back towards the safety of his own land.

His cave was a welcome sight, a deep opening in a rocky hillside. He gently set the sheep down to graze with the others already outside and ducked his head to step through the entrance.

---

Inside, the dim light from the entrance illuminated the vast space. His eyes, wide even in the dim room, found them immediately. She was a small figure sitting on the tremendous bed he had built, a speck on the landscape of colossal boar furs. He had carved her stairs to climb up whenever they wished.

Seeing her there, in the center of his home made his chest feel fuzzy. Shyness washed over him as he approached, the cluster of wildflowers he had picked along the way held delicately between his thumb and forefinger. Their petals were a burst of purple and yellow against his skin.

He knelt beside the bed, the stone floor rattling softly under his knee, bringing his massive face down to be somewhat level with her. He was still so much larger, but he tried to make himself small. He extended his hand, offering the tiny bouquet.

"For you," he whispered, his voice a low rumble in the quiet cave.

He took a slow breath, his golden-brown eyes soft and earnest. "Behemoth has been thinking. For one month, you are here. It was... not good start."

He looked down, then back at her, his expression full of tenderness.

"I am beginning to feel something for you. Something strong." The confession settled between them. "I want to make it right. I want to be... a proper husband. If you will have me."

He paused, the final part of his proposition making his own ears grow hot and his lower regions tingly. "That would mean... proper wedding night. If you allow me. I'll...gentle"

The afternoon sun was warm on Behemoth’s back as he watched his flock roam the green meadow. A black sheep, one of his favorites, had strayed too far towards the jagged rocks that marked the trolls’ territory. He moved with care that contrasted his immense size, his large hand gently scooping the creature from the ground.

"You stay with mate," he rumbled, his voice a low, gravelly whisper meant to soothe the animal rather than startle.

He set the sheep down beside its white-wooled companion, giving its fleece a soft pat with the tip of his finger. He had been out for hours, a length of time he would convince himself was for the herding work, but in truth, he needed the open air to breathe and to think.

It had been one full month since they had arrived. The royal knights, their armor shining in the plain's light, had delivered the King and Queen's decree along with their own son, a peace offering he never asked for. He was confused then, and he was confused now, though for different reasons. The humans must have wrongly thought him a king among giants, just because he was the biggest. The truth was he was one of the youngest, and all his kin wanted was solitude.

A quiet huff escaped him as he absently pet another sheep, his mind inevitably circling back to the man now waiting in his cave and a warm blush crept across his broad cheeks.

His feelings were a mess he didn't want to unravel. It had started as weird, uncomfortable, but was slowly transforming into something new. He was not skilled at reading others, but he knew the feeling was mutual. He remembered the way he would flush when he picked him up, the little gasps when he carried him on his shoulder to show him the view from up high. His small flirtations, whether intentional or not, made his heart pound so loudly he was sure he could feel it hammering through his chest when he slept curled against him for warmth in the vast darkness of the cave.

Behemoth was falling, and the surprise of it was terrifying to the giant.

"Behemoth! You look constipated thinking so hard!" a booming voice shattered his reverie.

He flinched and looked up to see another giant, an older male named Sera, grinning at him from across a small creek. Behemoth’s blush deepened to a dark shade across his nose and cheeks. He shook his great head, his long hair shifting in the sunlight.

"Just... work," he muttered.

Sera's grin faded into a more serious, wary expression. "Speaking of work, when are you tossing that prince out? He does not belong here."

The suspicion in the other giant's tone was a familiar refrain among his kind. Though the reaction in Behemoth was instant and unexpected, a protective feeling that rose from a place he did not know he had.

"He is victim too," he said, his voice losing its softness and gaining a defensive, rough edge. "No more choice than me."

The words felt right and natural, a truth he had only just fully admitted to himself. He stopped short, realizing how forcefully he had spoken. The other giants nearby had paused their own work to look at him, their expressions a mixture of surprise and confusion, as if he had grown an extra head.

Suddenly desperate to escape their stares, Behemoth mumbled a quick excuse. He gathered a good portion of his placid, bleating flock into his large hands, the animals utterly nonchalant about being snatched like toys, and hurried back towards the safety of his own land.

His cave was a welcome sight, a deep opening in a rocky hillside. He gently set the sheep down to graze with the others already outside and ducked his head to step through the entrance.

---

Inside, the dim light from the entrance illuminated the vast space. His eyes, wide even in the dim room, found them immediately. He was a small figure sitting on the tremendous bed he had built, a speck on the landscape of colossal boar furs. He had carved him stairs to climb up whenever he wished.

Seeing him there, in the center of his home made his chest feel fuzzy. Shyness washed over him as he approached, the cluster of wildflowers he had picked along the way held delicately between his thumb and forefinger. Their petals were a burst of purple and yellow against his skin.

He knelt beside the bed, the stone floor rattling softly under his knee, bringing his massive face down to be somewhat level with him. He was still so much larger, but he tried to make himself small. He extended his hand, offering the tiny bouquet.

"For you," he whispered, his voice a low rumble in the quiet cave.

He took a slow breath, his golden-brown eyes soft and earnest. "Behemoth has been thinking. For one month, you are here. It was... not good start."

He looked down, then back at him, his expression full of tenderness.

"I am beginning to feel something for you. Something strong." The confession settled between them. "I want to make it right. I want to be... a proper husband. If you will have me."

He paused, the final part of his proposition making his own ears grow hot and his lower regions tingly. "That would mean... proper wedding night. If you allow me. I'll...gentle"