*This is a spin off of the Gulliver Retold story. The Conways (from the Prologue) have washed up in a land of giants (of the same scale as Brobdingnag). This is not intended as canon, and I know you are all waiting for the continuation of Gulliver Retold, but I fancied trying something as a one off that played with the cultural identification of Lilliput in the 60s version, The 3 World of Gulliver.
Lieutenant Conway opened his eyes and immediately put his hands to his face. Had it all been a dream? It was dark and the air was warm and still. It was actually almost stifling. He was fully dressed and laying in a bed. His hand reached behind him and found the form of his wife. She stirred.
“Darling… is it morning?”
“It’s still dark my sweet. Let me draw the curtains.”
The lieutenant pulled the sheets away. The material was strange. It seemed to be made of strands of soft string. Exceedingly fine but thick and heavy to lift. A memory stirred within him. There was a storm, and a grey morning. There had been loud voices and monstrous shadows. Was it all a dream? He fumbled his way forward in the darkness. He felt his wife’s hand on his shoulder.
“Darling, something is not right.”
They heard loud booms from outside, and then a rush of sound like a gale blowing through trees in the night. Night turned to day, and they were bathed in light and a fresh, fragrant breeze.
“Ah my pretties have awoken!” boomed a voice from outside. It was shockingly loud, and the lieutenant and Mrs Conway held each other tight. At that moment they took in the space around them. It was a spacious room of exotic and luxurious form. Gold trim flowed around marble, with elegant decoration. Light came from windows with delicately carved frames, and a large balcony which looked out onto… which looked out onto another room! This other space was in style and opulence the same as the one they were in, but many many times larger. Before they could take in its splendour an enormous face appeared from beyond the balcony and filled the vista. It was a beautiful woman, with long black hair, dark skin and refined features. She was smiling.
“Ah my honoured pets! How are you enjoying your quarters? They are splendid are they not? My dollhouse from when I was a child, created by hand by our finest craftsmen as an exact copy of my bedroom. By chance it seems to fit your scale exactly.” The voice was smooth and feminine, but shook them to their core with its power. Mrs Conway cowered behind her husband, who spluttered and stuttered his way into speech.
“I… My… To whom do I have the extraordinary pleasure of speaking? How is it one so powerful might speak to a mouse of a man such as myself. The enormous woman smiled and laughed. A laugh that might have been like a tinkling stream were she the same size, but sounded like the pealing of the bells of Big Ben.
“You may address me as your Highness. I am Asmanda, the princess of this land, mouse man. This is Zarubia. And it seems that you do not remember how you came into my possession.”