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Description
Iris jumped as the giant suddenly leaned over the table and began rising to his full, towering height above her, somehow seeming even larger than before. Her stomach clenched and she shrank back, the towel slipping from her shoulders, as she watched him turn toward the door. She knew who was behind the enormous portal- the one who had taken her wings and threatened to eat her- almost eaten her- she gulped. And this Capaci was about to let him in.
Frantically, Iris scanned her surroundings for a place to run. The table was empty, all except for a single vase of ginormous foliage on it's center. Scrambling to her feet, Iris sprinted for the dark-green, glass structure, panic creeping up her spine as she closed the distance. The heavy door began to creak lowly on it's hinges. They were going to see her- she could practically feel the giant hand looming over her being. She slammed her bare and featherless back against the cold glass, strangling a cry of shock and a gasp, just as the clank of the latch split the air.
Iris grimaced, as she fought to quiet her labored breaths, desperately listening for the heavy clomp of their boots. “Oh, come now,” he said again, the lilt of amusement in his voice, making her stomach somersault and her skin burn, then instantly pale, “Just where is it you think you're going to run?” She grimaced, burying her face in her hands and pushing the stray tendrils of her raven hair back from tickling her cheeks. Oh, why had she run? This was so much worse than before! Soft footsteps sounded to her right and she flinched as a giant hand suddenly spread out on the edge of the table, bringing with it a towering torso, rising right out of her line of vision.
It was the one that carried her here- she recognized his leaner arms and the greenish waistcoat hanging open over his worn, linen tunic- but where was the other? She glanced to her left with a start, but there was no one there. She panted, her back pressed against the frigid glass, as she slowly drew her gaze back to his enormous chest. Her breath left her like a vacuum and her every fiber began to tremble. “Pigeon,” he lamented softly, “You haven't got anywhere to go.” The giant torso began to ripple in her gaze, as her hands and legs grew numb and her breaths became shallow with helplessness once again. Suppressed sobs racked her frame for released, as she clung to the glass against her back and watched the world begin to swim before her. “Come back around, now,” he said lowly, suddenly shifting his hands, and Iris frantically smeared the tears from her eyes. “You'll catch your death of cold,” he said, holding out one of the large, white towels in his open hands. Iris labored for air, a sob escaping her, as she rubbed her eyes and scowled at the towel in his cupped palms, as if it might jump up and bite her. “Come now, dove,” he said, his voice lilting and wavering. “I could have plucked you up and taken you anywhere I pleased by now,” he said, his head tilting and his brow knitting expectantly. Iris strangled another sob and turned away, knowing she was trapped.
Grimacing against her tears, Iris pressed her back flat against the vase. She was cornered and he had spoken right- he hadn't yet plucked her back up, but he could if wanted to, so if she wanted to avoid it, she should take the other options. Cautiously, Iris glanced back at his hands, slowly pulling back from their place on table. What was he doing? She lifted her gaze, gauging his expression, but he was easing back, his brow knit and the shadow of a smile tugging at his flattened lips. Iris's gut tossed and turned as she dropped her gaze, another shiver ravaging through her, and she turned to her left, warily peeking around the giant, glass structure.
Her eyes immediately locked onto the other Capaci, leaning back against the counter, his arms crossed over his broad chest. His stark, blue gaze, clouded and furrowed, shifted to her, and Iris shrank back an inch and winced at her knotting stomach. Footsteps rumbled through her feet and she frantically glanced back to the other, but he wasn't there. She spun on her heels, frantically searching for him, until she found him, carefully pulling out a chair beside the other, still standing with his arms crossed. “Please,” he said, his gaze fixated on her as he lowered himself to his seat and gently gestured to the nest of towels between them. Iris swallowed, glancing from one giant to the other, her core shivering like nothing else.
She took a step out, reluctantly inching her way around the vase, keeping her eyes on them with caution. She stopped dead center, trembling with her bare back pressed against the cold glass. The sitting giant silently studied her, his brow creasing slightly, but the other, still leaning back against the counter, exhaled and shifted his weight, as he watched her with a tensely furrowed gaze. He studied her intently, his brow cocked and his strong arms crossed over his linen shirt. A stray strand of his straight, blond hair had slipped from it's tie, and dangled beside his defined jaw. Iris scarcely breathed, hugging her arms across her gut, as she watched and waited for the next command. “No one's going to eat you, dove,” the one standing suddenly and quietly said, a hint of exasperation in his audibly deeper voice.
Iris panted, her mind anxiously digesting his words, as she glanced from one to the other again, trying to gauge their expressions. The others brow knit ruefully, his eyes still peering into her. What did he mean by that? She obviously hadn't been eaten yet, but the same act could be committed again- and again. Iris tried to suppress a grimace, holding herself tighter, as she shrank beneath that thought. “Was she hurt?” the broad one asked. Iris clenched her fists tighter and peeked up, following his gaze to the other.
“I don't know,” he replied over his shoulder, before his concerned gaze turned back, resting on her again. Rustling split the silence and Iris flinched, as the broad one suddenly pushed off the counter. Her breath left her like a vacuum and her eyes moistened once again, as she tremulously began to shrink, slipping to her backside against the glass. “Easy, dove,” the other cooed gently, lifting his enormous hand off the table, which did little but make her pause, her heart thrumming against her ribs and her chest heaving for each breath. She glanced back to the broad giant- the true threat- his knit brow raised slightly and his hand on the back of a chair, but he had halted where he stood, his stark blue eyes heavy on her. His gaze furrowed ruefully and his lips cracked open for a moment, before he closed them, his chest rising and falling softly.
“You needn't be afraid,” he said, his voice quiet and low. Iris practically withered beneath another barrage of tremors, striving hard to compose her chaotic, labored breaths. Slowly, he slid the chair out and lowered himself into his seat, his intense gaze weighing her heavily to her place against the glass. Iris lowered her gaze, watching their hands and torsos intently. She didn't want to look into their eyes anymore- she didn't want to see either of them. She flinched as he entwined his enormous fingers and folded his hands. “My name is Stephen,” he said, quietly, “And this is my brother, Phindrel- but we just call him Phinn.” Iris panted, struggling between shallow, uneven breaths.
“And what is your name?” the other- Phinn- suddenly asked, tilting his head to fix her in his concerned gaze. Iris shrank and swallowed, her mind reeling with anxiety. His brow knit as he studied her intently and she fidgeted, her insides wringing with discomfort beneath their patient gazes.
“Iris,” she reluctantly managed, unable to look at them as she spoke. If they weren't going to hurt her- what did they want with her? Iris went over everything in her head a hundred times: what had happened- what was happening. This was a game- all a game- it was the only thing that made sense- she wouldn't dare to hope for anything else.
“Iris,” the other said, his voice deep and thundering. She shuddered beneath his voice, unwilling to meet his gaze, as she waited for her inescapable fate to play out. “I know you're frightened- and that's my fault,” he said, “But I need you to trust us now.” Iris cast him a cold, searing glance, her indignation beginning to stir behind the fresh tears in her gaze.
“We have no desire to use or harm you, dove,” Phinn spoke up again, tenderly searching her gaze. Iris grimaced beneath another shiver, her gut twisting in knots, as she wrestled with all the facts and intuitions.
“I know I could have easily hurt you,” the other said, a tinge of regret in his voice, “I'd like to make certain that's not the case.” Iris digested the words slowly, flinching as his fingers began to unlace. He held his hands open in front of him on the table, and Iris cautiously lifted her gaze up his chest, to his intent and clouded eyes. He dropped his gaze and offered a slight nod toward his hands, “Please. Let me make sure you're alright.” Suddenly it clicked and Iris' stomach dropped like a stone. She braced herself, watching him anxiously, as her lungs began to heave with panic again. She trembled in her seat, her eyes unwilling to leave him now, as she waited for his response. What exactly was he going to do? What would he do when she refused? How could she possibly comply?
“Pigeon,” Phinn said ruefully, “What other choice do you have, except to trust us?” Iris felt faint. “You have nowhere to go.” Her trembling muscles ached with exhaustion. “You're at our mercy.”
“You can do what you please with me,” she said tensely, “But I do not have to trust you.”
“Do you wish to be plucked up against your will?” the other said, inciting a shiver in Iris, “Or would you rather comply to my request?” Iris withered beneath a new wave of tremors, panic sinking it's talons around her heart. He raised brow slightly, beginning to drop his hands back to the table. Without another thought, Iris rose to her feet, shaking as she kept her gaze on his hands, desperately hoping they wouldn't see the heat tingling across her cheeks. She grimaced, gripping her arms tightly and striving to keep her knees from giving way. “Come, dove,” he beckoned and she flinched as his hands shifted, gesturing her nearer and into his clutches.

***

Steph tried to remain still, knowing the pigeon would be startled by any slight movement. She stood a few inches in front of the vase in the center of the table, but she kept her gaze low, desperately hugging herself and trembling vehemently as she neared. He just needed to check her for injuries; he knew how easily a small body such as hers could be injured by hands like his own. She could have a dislocated joint or even internal bleeding. All he needed was a moment to check her.
The small girl stopped in front of his hands, a little further than he would have liked, but he knew she was terrified, so it would have to do. “Easy now dove,” he said, as he carefully began reaching toward her. She flinched and braced herself, but the brave girl stood her ground, closing her eyes and clutching her arms tightly. He cast Phinn a sideways glance as he gently cupped his enormous fingers around her back.
The girl flinched at his touch, a cry escaping her, but he didn't move. He closed his eyes, sensing for anything amiss within her, taking his time to be thorough. He opened his eyes, his chest swimming at the way she shivered like a leaf against his giant fingertips. “Is she alright?” Phinn asked quietly, drawing him back to reality.
“Yes, she's alright,” Stephen replied, just as quiet and without meeting his gaze. She had to be cold- especially without her wings. He huffed, knowing it was the only way she might trust him and he had to shift her back some time. Gently, he let one fingertip rest against her back. She leaned away from his touch, but he followed, blocking her escape with his other fingers- this was the only way he could do this. Closing his eyes once more, the vision of her true form flooded the black behind his eyelids, small- even for an Ave- and winged with iridescent, gray feathers. No wonder her name was Iris. With ease the wings seemed to slip back out of her shoulder blades until they were their full spans. Returning someone was always easier than changing them.

***

Iris jumped, her heart clenching in her chest, as his fingers pressed in around her. Frantically, she scrambled to escape the fray of his assailing fingers, a cry escaping her, as he tucked her back within his grasp. “There now,” he said gently, as she strangled a whimper, desperately waiting for it to be over. Iris panted, holding herself tightly as she fought to silence the uncontrollable quivering in her core. “You see?” he said, tilting his head to search her gaze, “Everything is as it was.” Iris felt a familiar tugging on her shoulder blade; could it be?
Glancing to the side, she saw her large, gray wing, cupped around her. She jumped to clutch it, but was held down by the other side, where he held her outstretched wing captive between his enormous thumb and finger. Startled, she glanced up at him, beginning to tremble again. Was he truly toying with her? “Easy now,” he patronized, “You'll get to fly soon enough.” Iris panted as she glanced to Phinn and back to him, even Phinn appeared to be letting Stephen do as he pleased.
“Please,” she tremulously breathed, glancing from one to the other, “Please..”
“Come now,” he said ruefully, “Haven't I proven myself to you, dove?” Iris stifled a sob, trembling anew. “You will go free,” he said, “only not tonight.” Iris grimaced, dropping her gaze and turning from them, as she fought back a flood of hot tears. “You needn't be afraid, Iris.” She flinched as large fingers began tucking the fluffy, white towels around her again. She clambered from the fabric and fingers pressing in around her, but it was useless and she curled up into her knees, trembling fiercely and trying not to cry.
“Pigeon,” Phinn uttered softly.
“Let her be for now,” Stephen said lowly, “Give her some time.”

Description
Iris jumped as the giant suddenly leaned over the table and began rising to his full, towering height above her, somehow seeming even larger than before. Her stomach clenched and she shrank back, the towel slipping from her shoulders, as she watched him turn toward the door. She knew who was behind the enormous portal- the one who had taken her wings and threatened to eat her- almost eaten her- she gulped. And this Capaci was about to let him in.
Frantically, Iris scanned her surroundings for a place to run. The table was empty, all except for a single vase of ginormous foliage on it's center. Scrambling to her feet, Iris sprinted for the dark-green, glass structure, panic creeping up her spine as she closed the distance. The heavy door began to creak lowly on it's hinges. They were going to see her- she could practically feel the giant hand looming over her being. She slammed her bare and featherless back against the cold glass, strangling a cry of shock and a gasp, just as the clank of the latch split the air.
Iris grimaced, as she fought to quiet her labored breaths, desperately listening for the heavy clomp of their boots. “Oh, come now,” he said again, the lilt of amusement in his voice, making her stomach somersault and her skin burn, then instantly pale, “Just where is it you think you're going to run?” She grimaced, burying her face in her hands and pushing the stray tendrils of her raven hair back from tickling her cheeks. Oh, why had she run? This was so much worse than before! Soft footsteps sounded to her right and she flinched as a giant hand suddenly spread out on the edge of the table, bringing with it a towering torso, rising right out of her line of vision.
It was the one that carried her here- she recognized his leaner arms and the greenish waistcoat hanging open over his worn, linen tunic- but where was the other? She glanced to her left with a start, but there was no one there. She panted, her back pressed against the frigid glass, as she slowly drew her gaze back to his enormous chest. Her breath left her like a vacuum and her every fiber began to tremble. “Pigeon,” he lamented softly, “You haven't got anywhere to go.” The giant torso began to ripple in her gaze, as her hands and legs grew numb and her breaths became shallow with helplessness once again. Suppressed sobs racked her frame for released, as she clung to the glass against her back and watched the world begin to swim before her. “Come back around, now,” he said lowly, suddenly shifting his hands, and Iris frantically smeared the tears from her eyes. “You'll catch your death of cold,” he said, holding out one of the large, white towels in his open hands. Iris labored for air, a sob escaping her, as she rubbed her eyes and scowled at the towel in his cupped palms, as if it might jump up and bite her. “Come now, dove,” he said, his voice lilting and wavering. “I could have plucked you up and taken you anywhere I pleased by now,” he said, his head tilting and his brow knitting expectantly. Iris strangled another sob and turned away, knowing she was trapped.
Grimacing against her tears, Iris pressed her back flat against the vase. She was cornered and he had spoken right- he hadn't yet plucked her back up, but he could if wanted to, so if she wanted to avoid it, she should take the other options. Cautiously, Iris glanced back at his hands, slowly pulling back from their place on table. What was he doing? She lifted her gaze, gauging his expression, but he was easing back, his brow knit and the shadow of a smile tugging at his flattened lips. Iris's gut tossed and turned as she dropped her gaze, another shiver ravaging through her, and she turned to her left, warily peeking around the giant, glass structure.
Her eyes immediately locked onto the other Capaci, leaning back against the counter, his arms crossed over his broad chest. His stark, blue gaze, clouded and furrowed, shifted to her, and Iris shrank back an inch and winced at her knotting stomach. Footsteps rumbled through her feet and she frantically glanced back to the other, but he wasn't there. She spun on her heels, frantically searching for him, until she found him, carefully pulling out a chair beside the other, still standing with his arms crossed. “Please,” he said, his gaze fixated on her as he lowered himself to his seat and gently gestured to the nest of towels between them. Iris swallowed, glancing from one giant to the other, her core shivering like nothing else.
She took a step out, reluctantly inching her way around the vase, keeping her eyes on them with caution. She stopped dead center, trembling with her bare back pressed against the cold glass. The sitting giant silently studied her, his brow creasing slightly, but the other, still leaning back against the counter, exhaled and shifted his weight, as he watched her with a tensely furrowed gaze. He studied her intently, his brow cocked and his strong arms crossed over his linen shirt. A stray strand of his straight, blond hair had slipped from it's tie, and dangled beside his defined jaw. Iris scarcely breathed, hugging her arms across her gut, as she watched and waited for the next command. “No one's going to eat you, dove,” the one standing suddenly and quietly said, a hint of exasperation in his audibly deeper voice.
Iris panted, her mind anxiously digesting his words, as she glanced from one to the other again, trying to gauge their expressions. The others brow knit ruefully, his eyes still peering into her. What did he mean by that? She obviously hadn't been eaten yet, but the same act could be committed again- and again. Iris tried to suppress a grimace, holding herself tighter, as she shrank beneath that thought. “Was she hurt?” the broad one asked. Iris clenched her fists tighter and peeked up, following his gaze to the other.
“I don't know,” he replied over his shoulder, before his concerned gaze turned back, resting on her again. Rustling split the silence and Iris flinched, as the broad one suddenly pushed off the counter. Her breath left her like a vacuum and her eyes moistened once again, as she tremulously began to shrink, slipping to her backside against the glass. “Easy, dove,” the other cooed gently, lifting his enormous hand off the table, which did little but make her pause, her heart thrumming against her ribs and her chest heaving for each breath. She glanced back to the broad giant- the true threat- his knit brow raised slightly and his hand on the back of a chair, but he had halted where he stood, his stark blue eyes heavy on her. His gaze furrowed ruefully and his lips cracked open for a moment, before he closed them, his chest rising and falling softly.
“You needn't be afraid,” he said, his voice quiet and low. Iris practically withered beneath another barrage of tremors, striving hard to compose her chaotic, labored breaths. Slowly, he slid the chair out and lowered himself into his seat, his intense gaze weighing her heavily to her place against the glass. Iris lowered her gaze, watching their hands and torsos intently. She didn't want to look into their eyes anymore- she didn't want to see either of them. She flinched as he entwined his enormous fingers and folded his hands. “My name is Stephen,” he said, quietly, “And this is my brother, Phindrel- but we just call him Phinn.” Iris panted, struggling between shallow, uneven breaths.
“And what is your name?” the other- Phinn- suddenly asked, tilting his head to fix her in his concerned gaze. Iris shrank and swallowed, her mind reeling with anxiety. His brow knit as he studied her intently and she fidgeted, her insides wringing with discomfort beneath their patient gazes.
“Iris,” she reluctantly managed, unable to look at them as she spoke. If they weren't going to hurt her- what did they want with her? Iris went over everything in her head a hundred times: what had happened- what was happening. This was a game- all a game- it was the only thing that made sense- she wouldn't dare to hope for anything else.
“Iris,” the other said, his voice deep and thundering. She shuddered beneath his voice, unwilling to meet his gaze, as she waited for her inescapable fate to play out. “I know you're frightened- and that's my fault,” he said, “But I need you to trust us now.” Iris cast him a cold, searing glance, her indignation beginning to stir behind the fresh tears in her gaze.
“We have no desire to use or harm you, dove,” Phinn spoke up again, tenderly searching her gaze. Iris grimaced beneath another shiver, her gut twisting in knots, as she wrestled with all the facts and intuitions.
“I know I could have easily hurt you,” the other said, a tinge of regret in his voice, “I'd like to make certain that's not the case.” Iris digested the words slowly, flinching as his fingers began to unlace. He held his hands open in front of him on the table, and Iris cautiously lifted her gaze up his chest, to his intent and clouded eyes. He dropped his gaze and offered a slight nod toward his hands, “Please. Let me make sure you're alright.” Suddenly it clicked and Iris' stomach dropped like a stone. She braced herself, watching him anxiously, as her lungs began to heave with panic again. She trembled in her seat, her eyes unwilling to leave him now, as she waited for his response. What exactly was he going to do? What would he do when she refused? How could she possibly comply?
“Pigeon,” Phinn said ruefully, “What other choice do you have, except to trust us?” Iris felt faint. “You have nowhere to go.” Her trembling muscles ached with exhaustion. “You're at our mercy.”
“You can do what you please with me,” she said tensely, “But I do not have to trust you.”
“Do you wish to be plucked up against your will?” the other said, inciting a shiver in Iris, “Or would you rather comply to my request?” Iris withered beneath a new wave of tremors, panic sinking it's talons around her heart. He raised brow slightly, beginning to drop his hands back to the table. Without another thought, Iris rose to her feet, shaking as she kept her gaze on his hands, desperately hoping they wouldn't see the heat tingling across her cheeks. She grimaced, gripping her arms tightly and striving to keep her knees from giving way. “Come, dove,” he beckoned and she flinched as his hands shifted, gesturing her nearer and into his clutches.

***

Steph tried to remain still, knowing the pigeon would be startled by any slight movement. She stood a few inches in front of the vase in the center of the table, but she kept her gaze low, desperately hugging herself and trembling vehemently as she neared. He just needed to check her for injuries; he knew how easily a small body such as hers could be injured by hands like his own. She could have a dislocated joint or even internal bleeding. All he needed was a moment to check her.
The small girl stopped in front of his hands, a little further than he would have liked, but he knew she was terrified, so it would have to do. “Easy now dove,” he said, as he carefully began reaching toward her. She flinched and braced herself, but the brave girl stood her ground, closing her eyes and clutching her arms tightly. He cast Phinn a sideways glance as he gently cupped his enormous fingers around her back.
The girl flinched at his touch, a cry escaping her, but he didn't move. He closed his eyes, sensing for anything amiss within her, taking his time to be thorough. He opened his eyes, his chest swimming at the way she shivered like a leaf against his giant fingertips. “Is she alright?” Phinn asked quietly, drawing him back to reality.
“Yes, she's alright,” Stephen replied, just as quiet and without meeting his gaze. She had to be cold- especially without her wings. He huffed, knowing it was the only way she might trust him and he had to shift her back some time. Gently, he let one fingertip rest against her back. She leaned away from his touch, but he followed, blocking her escape with his other fingers- this was the only way he could do this. Closing his eyes once more, the vision of her true form flooded the black behind his eyelids, small- even for an Ave- and winged with iridescent, gray feathers. No wonder her name was Iris. With ease the wings seemed to slip back out of her shoulder blades until they were their full spans. Returning someone was always easier than changing them.

***

Iris jumped, her heart clenching in her chest, as his fingers pressed in around her. Frantically, she scrambled to escape the fray of his assailing fingers, a cry escaping her, as he tucked her back within his grasp. “There now,” he said gently, as she strangled a whimper, desperately waiting for it to be over. Iris panted, holding herself tightly as she fought to silence the uncontrollable quivering in her core. “You see?” he said, tilting his head to search her gaze, “Everything is as it was.” Iris felt a familiar tugging on her shoulder blade; could it be?
Glancing to the side, she saw her large, gray wing, cupped around her. She jumped to clutch it, but was held down by the other side, where he held her outstretched wing captive between his enormous thumb and finger. Startled, she glanced up at him, beginning to tremble again. Was he truly toying with her? “Easy now,” he patronized, “You'll get to fly soon enough.” Iris panted as she glanced to Phinn and back to him, even Phinn appeared to be letting Stephen do as he pleased.
“Please,” she tremulously breathed, glancing from one to the other, “Please..”
“Come now,” he said ruefully, “Haven't I proven myself to you, dove?” Iris stifled a sob, trembling anew. “You will go free,” he said, “only not tonight.” Iris grimaced, dropping her gaze and turning from them, as she fought back a flood of hot tears. “You needn't be afraid, Iris.” She flinched as large fingers began tucking the fluffy, white towels around her again. She clambered from the fabric and fingers pressing in around her, but it was useless and she curled up into her knees, trembling fiercely and trying not to cry.
“Pigeon,” Phinn uttered softly.
“Let her be for now,” Stephen said lowly, “Give her some time.”