Giant (G/T) One-Shots

The Pirate's Booty

 **Warning: Cussing, mentions of kidnapping & Stockholm Syndrome (kinda)**

         "I dun' know what t'do with Clarabelle," the giant murmured, holding the little glass jar that contained the human. 

          "What do ye mean, Tref?" Pey asked. 

          "Well, we're almost t'land, and I don't know if we're supposed t'keep her as a prisoner or if we should let her go. She's technically our enemy and she knows too much, but she's been helpin' us and she's kind of our friend." Tref muttered. 

          "Is that why you put me in the jar, asshole?" Clarabelle snapped. 

          "Look, shortie. I'm still trynna figure out if ye're evil or na'." Tref huffed. He put the jar down in the middle of the table. "Alright, lads. T'keep or na' t'keep, that is the question." 

          "How about we just eat her?" Dyrt suggested.

        Clarabelle just rolled her eyes.

        "Do it then. Eat her." Tref challenged. He plucked Clarabelle out of the jar and handed her to Dyrt. 

        "Oh come on. I can't eat our lass." Dyrt complained, rubbing Clarabelle's backside with his thumb.

        Clarabelle snorted. "Pussy ass pirate."

        "Shut up, morsel." Dyrt flicked her backside.

        "Would it be moral t'keep her any longer?" Sevet asked. 

        "Do we have morals?" Iwo questioned. 

         The five men debated whether they should keep their prisoner or release her for about an hour. Then, Clarabelle piped up. 

        "Have you considered what I might want?" she asked, still perched in Dyrt's hand. 

        "It's nothin' personal, lass, but we can't trust ye na' t'give out information about us if we let ye go," Pey explained. 

        "First of all, you better not leave me stranded here. I have nothing but these salty ass clothes on my back, everyone I ever knew is miles away across the ocean, and I probably don't even speak the same language as these people." She pursed her lips. "Second of all, who said I wanted to leave? Maybe I'm happy here. I know I'm too small to be helpful around ship, but I don't take up that much space or food. Surely I'm not that much of a burden that you need to get rid of me."

        "Of course ye're not," Sevet assured her. 

        "Wait...do ye want t'stay, lass?" Tref asked. 

        "I mean...yeah. But if you don't want me to, then it's whatever. You guys better take me home though, or at least give me some gold, so I can get a ride." Clarabelle crossed her arms. 

        Everyone kinda just stared at her, mouth open. 

        "What?" Clarabelle demanded. 

        Iow chuckled. "I s'pose everyone's shocked that ye'd want t'stay with yer big, nasty captors."

        Clarabelle shrugged. "Maybe it's Stockholm Syndrome."

        Dyrt grinned. "Oh shaddup. We all know ye have a soft spot fer us. Might as well own up t'it now."