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Maurine and Edmund Interlude 1

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Maurine scowled at herself. Why did she have to make such an embarrassing noise when a giant stepped close to her? She pushed onward through the afternoon crowd, new artsupplies in hand. She wished Meg was there; she was better at maneuvering crowds.

The architecture in Bergen was beyond what even he had seen in books. To see each and every collumn, each masterpiece of innovative beauty built to house both humans and giants alike only served to bring awe to the short haired man, his dark hair a mess of curls set against alabaster skin. The look in his green eyes never ceased to be one of soft, intellectual awe as he analyzed bits and bobs of the thoroughfare for tidbits of history and the like. Edmund was a man of scholarly upbringing, a bit of a history nut. Some had called him eccentric, others admirable in his pursuit of the past. Mainly, however, most just thought he was crazing for dropping out of mainstream education at the age of seventeen to go galavanting in search of historical information.

He was dressed in a decidedly dorky fashion but there were signs that beneath his exterior of sweatervests and tucked in shirts that a truly charming being lay beneath. He inadvertantly stepped slightly too close to a pudgey man who in turn glared upwards and started shouting in French--and from what Edmund recalled of the language, those words would be enough to make his grandmother faint on sight. He gave a nervous laugh, cleared his throat, apologised then advanced on, keeping his travel pack on securely as he watched the streets with utter care.

"Excuse me!" Maurine's short fuse got the better of her, and she rudely pushed through the crowd of pedestrians waiting to cross the street. If she were queen, she would have her own special sidewalk, Maurine decided. People were so annoying sometimes. She adjusted her bag on her shoulder and dashed to finish crossing before a horse and carriage caught up. In her haste, a flap of her bag caught on the edge of a street lamp, and her momentum tore a gaping hole into the bag with a wince-worthy RIIIIIIIP! She whirled in horror to see all her paintbrushes and pastels spilled out all over the ground.

"No, no, NO!" She whined, hastily dropping to her hands and knees and crawling around to gather them back up best she could. A few had fallen into the middle of the road. "Please don't step on me, please don't step on me..." She prayed under her breath.

With the corner rounded and his eyes fixed practically with entirety upon the ground, Edmund managed to watch poor girl's ordeal. Was she insane? Surely she was for darting out on her hands and knees in the middle of a well travelled road made to hold giants. This girl would get crushed. Deciding it was his duty to do something, Edmund stepped closer, keeping the weight he placed upon the ground as light as he could. T

hough he'd never really interacted with many humans before, he'd read enough and seen enough and guessed that this was how it was done. He could see something scattered on the ground but couldn't quite figure out what they were. Edmund knelt down, giving Maurine a smile as he went to work with incredible dextirity and patience gathering art supplies. He paused a moment to inspect a tiny paintbrush held in between his finger and thumb. His eyes lit up.

"So you're an artist?" Though his volume was kept mostly in check, there was no denying his elation.

Maurine froze and gaped up at what she was sure would be her last sight on earth. But instead,  the stranger knelt down beside her. He saw her. Maurine sat back, gaping dumbly as hands multiple times the size of her entire body descended repeatedly to meticulously pick up her spilled supplies. Oh. That was actually rather nice... She leaned back, trying to get a look at his face. She doubted he was more than eighteen.

Suddenly, those icy blue eyes were locked on hers, reminding her that she looked foolish, just sitting there.  

"S-Sort-of." She sputtered, scooting to the safety of the sidewalk.

Though the paintbrushes had mostly being a doable pursuit, the pastels were delicate and difficult to collect. Once a small section of his palm was dominated by a tiny group of art supplies, he slowly offered them to the girl with a charming, disarming smile.

"Here you are. It would be a travesty for an artist to be without her tools. Edmund, by the way." He tilted his head to the side slightly. Her hair was quite the lovely shade of blonde. Nothing too gaudy but not bland either.

She stood by, biting her tongue and allowing him to complete his  gentlemanly act. She inhaled sharply- instinct more than fear- but scooped her art supplies out of his palm in one large sweep of her arms. 

"Thank you! That was very kind of you to go out of your way." She called up with a polite smile. As suspected, he had smushed some of her pastel chalks together. But still, at least they weren't completely dust. She wrapped then up securely in what was left of her tote bag and wiped her colorful palms off on her pants. 

"Maurine." She enunciated clearly. She studied his face a moment longer. "You new around here?"

Edmund watched her face and noted her discomfort. Though it was severely disheartening to know he was likely the cause, he chose not to highlight this fact. He kept his smile and decided that perhaps some physical space was to be in order for this young human girl.

"I'm pleased to meet you, Maurine. And...no. I'm from overseas, actually, a town called Portsmithe in England. Lovely place, really, but hardly much to study in the ways of architecture." Edmund remained crouched but shifted closer to the sidewalk in order to prevent himself from getting in the way. The scholarly giant situated himself beside the human.

She held perfectly still while he shifted, silently marveling at how graceful he managed to make such monumental movements. She could see the tendons in his wrists straining to lessen the impact his weight caused for her. Her previous rush was fading fast. 

"Huh. Well, plenty of that around here. You're an architect?"

She tucked some hair behind her ear, backing up a bit so she didn't have to lean back so much to see his face.  Man, he had a great smile...

"Aspiring one, actually. Though I'm not much good with designs." He chuckled and kept his eyes down upon the girl. He could see, even from this perspective, that her hands bore smudges of all sorts on them from what he guessed to be every kind of art medium under the sun. "My passions lie with history and all things to be discovered. There much you can find when you step outside of books and witness the world with your own eyes."

History bored her to be honest. But Maurine was beginning to think Edmund could make it interesting.. "Absolutely!" She agreed. "School can only take ya so far and all that.."

She wished fleetingly to be a bit taller so he wasn't looking down at her like that. Oh well. 

People passed, walking around the two and reminding Maurine that time was passing. This was weird, talking to a stranger. She never did that! 

"Well, Edmund, it's been nice meeting you. Hope you find what you're looking for around here." She used a polite, clipped tone and picked up her bundle, making to leave.

"I wish you luck with your artistic pursuits. It is always a pleasure meeting someone new." He smiled and pushed himself to his feet, adjusting how his pack sat on his back. Edmund turned to glance downwards towards her then made a show of a chivalrous bow, drawing up with a goofy, goodnatured grin before turning to walk away a few steps. He paused, an idea occurring to him. "The Silver Owl inn. I'm staying there on the off chance you might wish to speak to me again." he chuckled.

"I'll keep that in mind!" She called after after him. She wasn't  even aware of the smile of her face.  She was able to watch him leave for nearly a mile, given his stature, naturally. Butterflies flew around her stomach at the replay of their hands touching. "Not every day you meet a gentleman..." 

She hummed a cheerful time all the way home.

~~~~

Edmund sat in a fine dark wood chair with a polished finish and intricate reliefs carved into the surface in select places, an earlier piece of Italian make, if he was correct. Keen eyes scanned word by word of an old novel filled with information on the ancient vikings and the frost giant legends they often spoke of. His door, he'd inadvertantly left the slightest bit ajar, the chain lock still in place, at the very least. He tended to be a bit scatter brained like that. Too much going on in his head to recall to do simpler tasks. Picking up his espresso, Edmund took a sip, savouring the strong flavour, a taste he'd aquired whilst visiting the Vatican.

Maurine carried with her a travel-sized sketchbook, a stick of white charcoal, and two helpings of anxiety. But something about her charming encounter with the giant brought her to the cusp of knocking on his door. At least, the receptionist SAID this was his door...  Strangely enough, it was open. She poked her head inside and scanned the enormous room. There, on the far wall, she saw he same young man from earlier, sitting at the provided desk. The nerves increased with every step she took towards him. What if Edmund had just been polite? Maybe he didnt really want to see her again. Or maybe it was too soon. 

Standing at the base of the building-sized desk, she decided it was too late to turn back. "Edmund!" She cleared her throat. He merely turned the page. He couldn't hear her. 

"Stupid giants...." She muttered,  struggling use the cravings on the chair as a foothold to climb upwards.

Though this particular rendition spoke of certain occurences in a sketchy sort of fashion in Norse mythlogy, he did not begrudge the authors. The method of keeping track of legends had been poor in those days long since passed, so much of the lackluster recounting made it difficult to find much coherancy and continuity in it. Still oblivious to the presence of the small girl currently scaling his chair, Edmund continued to read, utterly entrenched in his stories.

The engravings stopped at the seat of the chair. She nearly fell when he shifted his weight, and Maurine realized this was indeed as dangerous as any feat her favorite heroines had attempted.  She could push his leg, but if he moved- which he surely would- she would plummet to her death.

Next idea: leapt the drawer handle. She took a deep breath and jumped.  Her fingers ached from the strain of gripping the smooth iron bar, but the handle, once scaled, was the perfect stepping stone to grab the edge of the desk. She hoisted herself up and panted. He still hadn't noticed her. Unbelievable. He had the cutest frown on his face, though. And he looked more handsome from this angle; she could see his face more proportionally. She approached his hand, the one resting aside while waiting to turn a page. 

"Edmund?" She touched his knuckle.

Something made contact with his knuckle that made the giant nearly jump out his skin, inadvertantly knocking someone over. Edmund sucked in a nervous, strained portion of air and quietly set his book down on the table top before moving his hand closer.

"Oh good lord, I am so sorry about that. I didn't even see you." His tone was genuinely apologetic, even worried "I didn't hurt you, did I? Do you need any help?"

The next thing she knew, she was lying on her back nearly a yard away. The giant loomed nearby, but Maurine dusted herself off and stood to the side, trying to pretend that I didn't even see you didn't sting a little.

"I'm fine." She shrugged. "Dropping things again though..." She laughed and shook her head as she bent down to pick up her sketchbook.

Edmund let out a chuckle and set his elbow on the tabletop, cushions by rolled up shirt sleeves, his chin in his palm. "That does seem to be a recurring theme with you." His eyes studied Maurine with something like a mixture between academic fascination and a personal longing for furthered knowledge. He honestly hadn't expected her to show up but she had. That was something spectacular. "What brings you over to visit?"

She ran a hand through her tousled blonde locks in a way that she hoped would show off how shiny that conditioner made it. 

"Curiosity, I guess." She lifted her gaze, following the human pillar of his arm up to his face. "I..." His unwavering gaze made her mouth run dry. Dang it all. "I hope that's okay."  What had she gotten herself into, putting herself under the spotlight like this?

"Of course." Edmund gave a reassuring smile, an inviting warmth and tenderness locked within his eyes like individual cloudlessly blue skies. He was, by nature, someone who needed to shift his weight a fair bit but with a human so close, he felt embarrassingly aware of his every body. He could not allow the whims of stiff muscles to dictate his actions now. "You are most welcome. I invited you myself, didn't I?"

"You did." She agreed cheerfully. Her tension was slowly disappearing, replaced by a tingling sensation of exhalation. His voice was like a sound and a solid object all at once. Maurine shyly lowered her gaze, focusing instead on the open volume before her. 

"So... What book is this that you're so absorbed in?" She paced closer.

Edmund lifted his head then lowered his wrist onto the desktop, feeling the well attended to surface, smooth and polished and solid beneath his limb.

"Norse myths and legends. It's really only a small snippet in this particular tome as the full book is about Viking culture and to get the full grasp of their myths would require a much more substantial book." He leaned back a bit. "You're quite welcome to have a read, if you'd like."

Maurine arched an eyebrow at the large man, but climbed onto the open page. There was no was she was going to try and read the whole thing- that would take ages with words printed so big! But she ambled along the paper, pausing over an illustration of norish gods and monsters. She laughed quietly, tapping a foot over the paler visage. "My mom used to tell me scary stories about these guys."

"The frost giants. Ah yes, plenty of interesting tales on these folk. Though..." He pursed his lips "I often feel as if these tales are a tad racist against us real giants." he chuckled "I mean, I am hardly blue and seeking the destruction of humanity."

The little blonde gave a small start, grateful she was turned away at the time. She had never thought about it from a giant's perspective. 

"They're just stories. I'm sure you have fables about stupid little humans back home, right?" She turned around to face him.

Edmund chuckled before standing and pushing his chair out, lowering himself down to the floor to stand on his knees, arms folding on the edge of the table top and chin rested there again. "I'd say we have the odd one. Utter rubbish, really. Much the same as these fables though I will honesty say that I am rather entertained by several. Jack and the Beanstalk? Such a silly notion. Frost giants? Argueably almost moreso."

Once roughly eye level with her but giving Maurine space to a degree, he could make out more details. She was most definitely a lovely girl, the smaller details all the more attractive.

     

"Silly..." She echoed, more a mumble to herself than anything. His sudden change in position was both disarming and considerate. She stared, transfixed, at the giant's face, so close to her.  He was the perfect proof frost giants were fiction: far from gnarly and ghastly, Edmund was handsome and kind.

"Wow... You have seriously beautiful eyes. They're so blue!" She gushed, leaning forward as she sat on the edge of the page with her feet just touching the desktop.

     

Thousands of tails of borrowers and tiny shoe making elves and fairies flooded his mind the moment he watched her seat herself. It was strange how mesmerizing humans were, how small yet full functional they could be. Though he'd never had a single doubt about their strength as a race growing up due to being blessed with unequivocally understanding parents, there was something so frail, an instinctive feeling of awe at the existence of beings so unbelievably tiny in the world. Her words, of course, spoken by such a small voice made him rub his lips together a bit, the corners of his lips lifting.

"Thank you very much for your flattery, but let's not neglect you, shall we?" For a few moments, Edmund formulated what would be best to compliment her on. "Your hands, which are rather graceful looking things, I should add..." He tilted his head to the side. "I find the graphite and charcoal stains and even some chalk pastel, I possibly detect on them to be rather fetching."

     

"What?" A slow blush ignited as she surveyed her stained hands. Charcoal wedged under her fingernails that was impossible to get out, making them look perpetually filthy. She laughed, looking back up to him with a skeptical smile. "You like a girl with dirty hands?"

     

"Mmn. There is always a story associated with dirty hands whereas clean ones are like wiping away a history. Not that I don't mind clean hands as well for the sake of sanitation." Edmund gave a small noise of confirmation, lips spread wide in a smile before he lifted his head and one hand off the desk, moving a hand in closer. "May I?"

     

She leaned away instictively at the massive movment, but made herself relax. His voice had that effect on her. Maurine wrung her hands, eyeing the giant fingers extended towards her. "Um… I guess so." The girl held out her hands, a sign of trust.

     

Though a moment of something akin to hurt passed briefly over his features at her shying away, it was only momentarily, hardly much to be called truely lasting pain. He changed the expression into a coaxing, reassuring smile and gently, slowly lifted a finger to take her hands onto it. The tiny appendages were entirely unreal, so dainty, so small and he guessed dextrous as well. Awe and fascination claimed the giant utterly as he lifted his thumb and very careful smoothed it over top of the tiny hands.

     

Her breath hitched, and she had to take deep breaths to make up for it. She stared fixedly at how both her hands could lay atop a single fingertip of his. She could feel the blood thrumming to and fro, the swirling texture of his fingerprints. Maurine checked his reaction, back to his hand, to his face again.

"Can you even feel them?" She asked quietly.

     

His lips parted in a low, spaced out breath, the sensation of such small appendages upon his finger more interesting than the oldest of historical relic. He honestly would have taken this experience over meeting King Arthur...at least in his present mind set.

"I can feel them." He practically whispered, his voice inadvertently husky.

     

She was utterly enthralled and overwhelmed, unsure what to say. His lips forming words, those bright blue eyes. Eyelashes. Strong jaw line sweeping up to imperfectly perfect curls of hair as black as india ink. She wiggled her fingers ever so slightly, beginning to feel fidgety. The movement was restrained, pressed between the finger and thumb. He was so strong. He could crush her hands into a bloody pulp at any moment; yet, he was so gentle...

     

Edmund's eyes widened in unrestrained curiousity at the minute movement upon his fingertip, forgetting his manners and leaning in closer to look at them. He eyed the tiny fingers, each so individual like dashes of a skinny pen stroke.

"Amazing..." he breathed, gently smoothing his thumb over them again just to feel the surface again.

     

"I'll say." Her breathing accelerated silently, eyes dialating. She saw giants on a daily basis, but being scrutinized, one-on-one, was just… eyeopening. He was so big. So close…  She tilted her head, mind racing as she observed him. He was looking at her like she was… a prized painting on display. She had never felt smaller, but then again, no one had ever called her amazing before.

     

Edmund's tundra eyes slowly lifted from her hands to her face, his lips parted. Then at once, he caught himself and slowly released her hands, moving back to give the girl some space. He ran his hands through his hair in a flustered manner, letting out a puff of sheepish air.

"My apologies. I may have almost gotten carried away there." He chuckled and glanced back down at Maurine. "I do hope you'll forgive me."

     

She watched him unfold overhead, her hands sliding back into her lap. The air suddenly felt cold with the absence of pulsating warmth.

"Almost?" She squeaked. Her eyes darted to his lips. Had he been about to… kiss her? Her heart pounded, and she quickly busied her hands anew with working out a knot in her mid-length hair. "I, um, it's fine! You seem like you don't get out enough." She offered him a casual smile.

     

"Mmn." Edmund agreed but his head seemed elsewhere for the moment; he rubbed his lips together before pursing them in an occuring thought. He glanced back down towards the human on the desk "Would you like to go for coffee by any chance?" He inquired politely.

     

"I could go for a hot drink." She played it off with a shrug, though she was sparklers on the inside. Tossing her hair back over her shoulders, Maurine hopped off the book and meandered toward the vast expanse of his torso beyond the edge of the desk. "I can show you this nifty place downtown. Just opened a few months ago.”

     

The fact that she'd said yes at all made Edmund's heart soar--not that he wasn't good with the ladies. On the contrary. Most just seemed not to be his type and his focuses generally were elsewhere. The giant placed his hand palm up on the table, keeping it as steady as he possibly could.

"Lead away." He smiled.

Set in the post-Wander universe. We originally had this tied in with the Adrian vs. the Boyfriends short story, but it really took on a life of its own. Maurine is a good friend of Megumi's, one that we met briefly in the beginning of the aforementioned short story. And now she's getting a giant crush she never asked for!
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FlyingKitten35's avatar
OMG! You always write the fluffiest things! Amazing job!
And what a gentleman Edmund is... XD