There was once a friendly giant who lived on a mountain by the sea with his love, a handsome stag. George the Giant and Tim the Stag were very happy together on the Green Mountain, building a life for themselves that was full of each other. But they had not always lived on this mountain, and they had not always been so happy. Some years ago, in a land not so far away, Tim’s love for George had been called unnatural, perverse and wrong. Tim’s herd did not understand his love, and his father, The Great Stag, had banished him from the herd for loving a giant. The young stag felt the cruel pain of rejection and buried the pain deep in the middle of his soul, where it was hidden, and forgotten over time. Despite this, Tim and George were brave. They knew their love was as natural as the shining stars at night and the rising sun at dawn.

They left their lives behind and set off together on a wild adventure, fleeing the busy places where they had been judged and cast out, and found the Green Mountain on the coast. The mountain was covered in a lush green forest where they could smell the flowers and walk together, free to love without fear. It was the safest place they knew, and it soon became their home. Here, they lived their lives between the thrilling pulse of excitement and the still peace of contentment. This was their kingdom, and they believed nobody could pull them apart.

Both the lovers were a sight to behold. Tim had magnificent antlers that were like two powerful arms clasping an invisible halo above his head. At times, he fancied himself as an angel that had dropped out of Heaven to bring devilish beauty into the lives of others. He had a chiseled face and a slender neck that curved down smoothly into a lean body of golden brown fur. By contrast, George was as tall as a small tree, with dark ruffled hair like a bird’s nest. His tanned skin covered a portly frame; a light layer of flab jiggled over his thick, strong bones. To those around them, it seemed that they each provided what the other lacked.

One afternoon, Tim and George were lying together in the grass, fooling about. Tim could feel the lazy sunlight on his cheek, and was pretending to ignore George’s much-practised impression of a sloth hanging from an imaginary tree.

“Give me attention,” George demanded, feeling quite neglected.

Tim really did not know how to respond to these little performances, and decided that he would not indulge him today. He told him, “Stop prancing about like a fairy and give me attention.”

George replied, “But you’ve always loved my fairy tail.”

On this point, it was impossible for Tim to disagree. So they sat and snuggled and said very little. That is, until Tim looked out to sea and saw something he did not expect. There in the bay, sailing towards the beach, was a huge beast with white wings that towered up into the sky. From a distance, up above, he could see tiny moving specks on the back of the floating creature. Humans! And there was something else, something bigger on the creature’s back, that he didn’t recognise. It looked as if it was covering something. As the huge creature got closer, he saw that it wasn’t alive at all. It was a man-made monster, tearing through the sea to the shore.

“What is that?” Tim pointed his horns down towards the sea. He had not seen a thing like this before.

George was startled from his slumber, and peered down over the edge of their spot. He was silent, shocked by what he saw, and then managed a few words,

“That is a ship. Those are humans. What on earth are they doing here?”

Tim leapt up and cried out “Race you there!” He sprinted off down the mountain, through the trees, before George had a moment to object.

***

The boat had landed on the beach, and the people were climbing down onto the sand with huge fishing nets. Tim had heard so much about humans before, but had never seen one up close. These strange tall bodies had bright shining eyes and wide smiles. They seemed kind, and Tim wandered over to greet them. Maybe they’re lost, and want my help, he thought.

As Tim went over to speak to them, they threw the net over him. They chortled and they cried, “We’ve got one! A beauty! What fine horns. Younger than the other one, and shinier. Tie him up and put him at the bow, away from the other one – we don’t want them talking and conspiring against us. Oh yes, the Dark Giant is going to be very pleased with us now.”

George was wandering down through the forest, calling out for Tim. There was only birdsong for an answer. George wondered, where is he? He called out again, speeding up now. He started to run down through the forest, his head bopping up above the tree tops. Where is Tim? he thought. At that moment, something caught George’s eye.  There, there was the ship. Sailing away from the beach. The pack of people, and… Tim’s horns, poking out, trapped in a net. George’s stomach leapt with fear. The island shook with his footsteps as he ran down to the shore. The ship was going faster and faster. George made it to the beach and waded out into the water, but he was too late.

He stood still, watching Tim being carried away, further and further, out to the point where the sea meets the sky.  George the Giant fell to his knees in the sand, and he wept a second sea.

Written by Henry Hudson
@henrycehudson

Illustrated by Rebecca Hopkinson