The Gold and the Fiddle

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This story is a pastiche of a Norwegian folklore fairytale. A lot of these tales follow the same pattern: Smart underdog encounters lots of weird stuff and in the end wins the glorious price, usually involving some female (like a princess and half a kingdom); in my tale, however, females aren't considered a price worth winning ...

These tales often have many harsh and brutal elements. I've toned some of the usual violence down and added some nookie instead.

(I've yet to come across gay Scandinavian folklore, more's the pity. But fantasy is free, and no one can control dreams.)

THE GOLD AND THE FIDDLE

A fairytale by Magnus Winter

You will meet strange folk in this story, but three of the creatures swapped from Norwegian folklore need a bit of explanation:

Bergekongen -- A male troll who will abduct you into his mountain and keep you there for breeding. Not a nice guy.

Fossegrimen -- A male creature who lives in waterfalls and will teach you to play the fiddle if you bring the right gifts. Not really a bad guy.

Huldra -- A female underground creature, beautiful and seductive, but tricky and mean. You won't know it's her until you see her from behind.

In the days of old, in the days of poverty and drudgery, in the days of ignorance and superstition, two brothers, through circumstances unforeseen and through no choice of their own, set out on a journey.

The evil illness had taken their mother and their father; through the harsh winter the brothers had watched Mother cough up blood and waste away, and when the first day of summer made its appearance, Father followed.

Despite the standing custom, despite the repeated Sunday lectures on Christian charity and Samaritan virtue, despite the embroidered Bible verses of compassion and love that hung on many a wall, no one would take them in. No one. Neither the proud and upright nor the crafty and devious, neither the eager churchgoers nor the reluctant slackers, neither the affluent tradespeople nor the struggling farmers. All feared the brothers would carry the abhorred disease with them, and no one wants to die before their time, that is how it is and how it has always been. Words from the pulpit that loudly taught pity and care, be those words sweetly persuasive or harshly scolding, remained just that: words.

Hence the elders got together, almost before the father's body was cold, to debate and decide what to do with the brothers, and decide they did: The boys, along with a small sum for their upkeep, were to be sent away, as far from the village as conscience allowed, to the pig farmer in the fenland, a man who was driven away from the village and shunned for the rumoured unnatural congress with his livestock. An unsubstantiated rumour, but a rumour that had stuck because of the man's unpleasant manner and refusal to pay alms to the church.

And so, while their childhood home was burned to the ground with all their belongings within, the two boys were sent on their way, their meagre endowment consisting of a nettle shirt each, a pair of course frieze trousers each, and each a pair of worn and stiff leather shoes, a little too small for the one and a little too big for the other.

"I will have no sickness in my house", Pig Man grumbled, leading the pair of skinny striplings to the pigsty. "This is where you will keep."

Pig Man opened the sagging doors to the low, weather-beaten shack. He threw them a threadbare woollen blanket; his sour, cadaverous face sneered at them, and he spat over his shoulder.

"Gallivanting far and wide and doing nothing is not what I will feed you for. Work must be done. Mucking out and feeding them pigs, that is what you will do. And God have mercy upon your souls if any of my pigs get away or come to harm."

And Pig Man slapped their faces for no other reason than that boys' faces are there to be slapped, and he opened his trousers and fished out his withered prick and pissed at the boys' feet.

Grey were the nettle shirts and grey were the itchy trousers, grey were the ramshackle pigsty walls and grey were the pigs when at night they were let in. Grey was the watery barley porridge that in the morning sat in two bowls outside the pigsty, grey was the skin of the fish and grey were the little shreds of meat that stuck to the bones after Pig Man had had his meals and thrown the spoils out. For Pig Man did not think little boys needed more: A dab of porridge, a bone to gnaw, a leaky roof and a moth-eaten blanket.

And when at night the brothers sat huddled together, listening to the chomping and slurping noises from pigs devouring grey and wrinkled last year's potatoes, themselves slowly and furtively chewing grey and wrinkled potatoes stolen from the pigs' feed, they would whisper to each other:

"Oh, Oscar, the smell of fresh bread just out of the oven!"

"Oh, Isak, the taste of butter melting on a thick slice of warm bread!"

And little brother would lean his tired head against big brother's shoulder, and they would sit still, and they would remember. In silent oneness, they would remember Mother's plump arms and soft bosom, remember rosy cheeks and soothing smile. Remember Father's rough hands and hard knees, remember patient blue eyes and prudent reprimands. And the little one would look up at his brother with weary tears in his eyes:

"Oh, Oskar. Do you think we will ever see colours again?"

Every morning they ate the grey porridge, cleaned the bowls in the stream, put the bowls outside Pig Man's closed and locked grey door, let the pigs out to dig and root in the dirt for whatever they could find, walked around the twig fence to look for holes on it, and started to muck out and clean up the pigsty that was now their home.

And the little one would stumble and wilt under the heavy shovel and sink to his knees in the dung and the dregs, and the little one would sniffle and turn his face away, and the little one would let his tiny voice tiptoe out from his weary lips:

"Oh, Oskar. I am tired to death. Come autumn, and I will no longer be alive."

And the not so little one would dry off his brothers tears with his finger.

"Oh, Isak, do not cry. We know not what tomorrow holds."

"Oh, Oskar. Tomorrow holds porridge and pigs. Tomorrow holds struggle and shit. Tomorrow my body will be as worn out as and grey as it is today, as worn out and as grey as these walls."

And they mucked out and cleaned up the pigsty, they cut last year's barley straw into smaller pieces to boil in the vat on the forge in the old smithy to feed to the pigs come evening. They walked around the grey twig fence that surrounded the muddy field where pigs wallowed in the sludge, weaving fresh twigs into every hole so that no pig would get out and drown in the treacherous near-by marshes. They brought out the tattered blanket and shook it out in the wind and scratched their many fleabites.

And when evening came and the pigs were in, when the chomping and slurping and grunting filled the darkened room, when they had chewed and swallowed a mouthful or two of the foul-tasting slop they fed to the pigs to mute the hunger that screamed in their guts, they would lie down face to face on the ratty blanket on the hard floor in the fenced off corner where the pigs couldn't get at them. And while fleas feasted on their tender skin, they would remember days of running barefoot on soft grass, remember days of wild strawberries strung like necklaces on straws, remember days of fish caught and spit-roasted on small fires on the banks by the river. And forehead to forehead they would whisper and cry together.

And each brother would sneak a hand into the other's grey and itchy trousers and hold on to what was there to hold, for a boy needs to be held and be touched when the world around him is cruel and harsh and impossible to understand or ignore, to be held and to be touched for no other reason than to feel comfort and belonging, to be held and to be touched and to be sent off to sleep by the warmth and the safety of a brother's hand.

On the twelfth morning, as grey and as miserable and as wretched as the twelfth bowl of porridge, Pig Man stood pissing and shouting outside the rickety door of the pigsty.

"Gallivanting far and wide and doing nothing is not what I feed you for. I have errands in the village and will be gone for the day, and God have mercy upon your souls if I come back to find your work undone."

The boys watched in silence as Pig Man's gawky and graceless back disappeared down the dirt road. They ate the grey porridge, cleaned the bowls in the stream, put the bowls outside Pig Man's closed and locked grey door, let the pigs out to dig and root in the dirt for whatever they could find, and started to muck out and clean up the pigsty that was now their home.

And big brother straightened his back and turned to little brother.

"Oh, Isak. Twelve days, one day for each of my years, and it is enough. I cannot abide this anymore."

"Oh, Oskar. Twelve days are four days more than my years, and four days more than enough."

A locked door is no obstacle when the wood of the door is brittle and rotting, there is precious little art about getting through if getting through is what a boy wants.

There was not much to find in Pig Man's house. What little they could use they wrapped up in two pieces of cloth and tied them up in bundles. >From the grey twig fence they picked two of the sturdiest sticks, tied the bundle to one end so they could balance the stick with the bundle on a shoulder and not wear themselves out on their journey. For a journey it was to be, they both knew, and there was no need to waste words.

Standing by the grey twig fence, the little one looked at his brother and the not so little one looked back, and without a word they picked out twigs until there was a hole in the fence big enough for the pigs to escape should they want to escape, and for Pig Man to never forget them should he wish to forget them.

And as they started walking towards the edge of the forest, a red-breasted bird flew past them and into the shadows, and the little one cried out.

"Oh, Oskar! It is red! The bird is red!" And he wept and he laughed, and he ran after the bird.

The narrow and winding trail took them deeper into the murky forest, but their eyes were used to the dimness of the pigsty, and never did they lose sight of the faint trail.

They had not walked for longer than it takes to boil a bowl of barley porridge when they heard it: A voice, a crackling and squeaky old voice.

And there in front of them on a stone sat an ancient woman, wrinkled and furrowed, stooping and leaning on a stick, the red-breasted bird perched on her shoulder.

"Bless me, two little boys all alone in the woods? Two pretty, little boys although half eaten by fleas and lice? Pray, come closer and let me look at you."

Hand in hand the boys wended their way towards her. Her bony hand reached out and touched their cheeks.

"Dear me, here have I sat, and no one have I seen, and neither food nor drink has passed my lips. Would you from the goodness of your hearts have mercy on an old woman and grant her some sustenance?"

The brothers set their bundles down. The older brother spoke.

"Honoured old woman, we have but little. Some pieces of unleavened bread, a small heel of a dried-up cheese, a tiny pot of honey. But we will gladly share with you if you should wish to partake in our meagre repast. For we both know the torment and misery of hunger."

And from the bundles, out came the slices of Pig Man's flat bread, out came Pig Man's knife to carve off slivers of Pig Man's cheese, out came the pot to drip Pig Man's honey on bread and cheese, and the brothers gave the old woman a piece to eat before they took one for themselves to share.

"Bless you, children, this you will not regret. For many will share of their abundance, but few will share when it is little they have, and your good hearts have earned you a favour in return."

And she took the younger brother's hand, and in it she placed a small silver whistle, no bigger than the finger of an infant child, and closed his hand around it.

"Take good care of this. Use it only when all is danger and darkness, and the way out is nowhere to be seen. Now follow the path until you come to a stream, and there you will take off your sorry clothing and dunk them in the water until they are soaked through, and there you will take your flea-bitten bodies into the water and dunk them until they too are soaked. And after, you must take the path to the right."

The brothers looked down on their grey and dirty nettle shirts and their grey and muddy frieze trousers and wondered how they would ever become clean, and when they looked up again, there was no woman sitting on the stone. Just a red-breasted bird that took to its wings and soared to the sky.

And startled brother turned to startled brother.

"Oh, Oskar! Where did that one go?"

And little brother opened his closed fist, and both saw that the tiny flute was still there.

The little river gurgled and laughed and twinkled under the sunny rays that leaked down through the high crowns of the trees. They put their bundles down, they pulled their grey nettle shirts off and they dropped their grey and course and itchy trousers to the grassy bank.

"Oh, Isak, my little Isak! You are as scrawny and as skinny as a reed, and what little there is of you is dotted red from fleas and lice and scarred and crusty from scratching. You poor sod."

"Oh, Oscar. Not only I. Look at yourself!"

And the brothers knelt by the river, for an old woman who knows the art of vanishing from sight is best listened to, and while fleas jumped and lice fled, they dunked their grey nettle shirts and their grey and coarse frieze trousers in the river. Three times they dunked them, and when shirts and trousers were all soaked through and dark as the night from the soaking, they laid them out on the grassy bank to dry.

And brother took brother's hand, and together they waded into the river and dunked their miserable bodies in the water. Three times they dunked them, and when they were all soaked and dripping wet and gleaming in the sunlight, they laid themselves down on the grassy bank to dry.

"Oh, Oskar! Warm sun and soft grass suit my prickling skin and my weary bones far better than mouldy blanket and hard floor."

Drowsiness crept upon them, and face to face the brother's sailed off to dreamland, brother holding on to brother's cock, for a brother needs to be held and to be touched for no other reason than for comfort and belonging, to be held and to be touched and to be sent off to sleep by the warmth and the safety of a brother's hand.

Awakening came slowly upon them. One eye opened, then the other, and brother stared at brother.

"Oh, Isak, my little Isak! Your tainted skin is as white as milk, and nothing moves in your cornfield hair! Rise up and let me see you properly!"

"Oh, Oskar. I will rise if you rise with me, for I see your face is as pure as you say of mine, and I long to see us free of the passengers we took on at Pig Man's farm."

And the brothers rose together, and great was their surprise and wondrous was their joy when all they saw was smooth and unmarked skin with no jumping or crawling uninvited guest thereupon.

"Oh, Oscar. I see tiny hairs sprouting on you, and right above your thing even! What does it mean?"

"Oh, Isak, I do not rightly know. But of late my thing has grown more, and my thoughts go often to it, and sometimes, of its own free will, it goes to stand out like a spear. And the same happens when my thing is touched, and I feel it differently and more than before, and I want to touch it more, for I do not want the feeling to stop."

"Oh, Oskar. I know, for I have held it and touched it when we go to sleep, and of late I have known your thing to go hard as wood from my touch. Will it also happen to me?"

"Oh, Isak, I do not know much of these things, but I do believe all it means is that we are boys, and boys have things, and boys' things are made the way they are made to feel good. And as we grow, our things grow with us, and the good feelings grow with our things, and I suspect that when we grow to be men, the feelings will grow even larger and greater, and we will want our things held and touched at all times."

"Oh, Oskar. You say we are boys with boys' things that are made to feel good, so could it be that we are made so because we are meant to play with our things and feel good the way it feels good to run barefoot in soft grass and play in the fields catching butterflies and taste the first strawberries of summer? Because my poor and puny body wants these things so much more than eating foul porridge and shovelling pig-shit."

"Oh, Isak, my Isak. Never will we eat that disgusting porridge again. Never will we shovel that loathsome pig-shit again. But now we must dress and move on."

And the brothers moved to pick up their clothes.

"Oh, Oskar! Our shirts are white as snow! Our trousers are soft to the touch and blue as the sky! That was a powerful river, that was!"

The two pairs of ungainly and uncomfortable footwear were nowhere to be seen. Nevertheless, silvery peals of boys' laughter rang out across the river and echoed back from the dark forest trees as the boys, hand in hand and barefoot, bundle-sticks on shoulders, ran lightly up the wide path going left from where the path split.

The path was so even and level that an egg could roll on it, and well pleasing for boys' bare feet to walk upon. But they had not walked for longer than it takes to clean two bowls in a stream and put two bowls on a rickety doorstep when the path suddenly stopped and a rock wall rose in front of them, too wide to get around, too high and too smooth to climb.

"Oh, Oskar, my heart is uneasy. This I do not like."

"Oh, Isak, I fear we have gone wrong. Could it be the old woman told us right, and not left? We must go back."

But when they turned, they saw no path. All they saw were dark and grim trees that grew so tightly together only the skinniest of creatures could pass through.

Fear rose in their hearts and brother gripped brother's hand as their backs pushed against the rock wall, for the trees were on the move and would likely squash the lifeblood out of them.

Suddenly and unexpectedly the rock wall opened, and in they were sucked, deep into the blackness of the mountain. And their bare legs felt many a hairy little being swishing and whirling around them, and their ears heard a whir of many whispering little voices, and blindly they were nudged along by the tickles and the whispers, and they came to a vast hall.

There were chairs and benches cut and carved in stone, and there were beds and cradles cut and carved in stone, and a huge and high pyre sparkled and burned in the middle, and they saw their little shoes slowly devoured by the fire there, and here and there trinkets of gold could be seen glimmering in the firelight. And everywhere hairy and tailed and fat little troll nippers were milling about and tumbling around, some young and some older, and on a high throne cut and carved in stone sat Bergekongen himself, crowned with a crown of the purest gold, and larger and hairier and uglier and smellier than any creature the boys had ever encountered, and Bergekongen was bouncing a squealing and giggling little troll kid on his lap.

"Fair of hair and pale of skin!"

The booming voice of the troll king resounded in the hall.

"I smell Christian blood! I smell virgin blood! And we have not had Christian virgin blood here for donkey's years! Now what shall we do with you?"

And he lifted the squealing and giggling little troll kid up to let the boys see, and the boys saw that the squealing and giggling little nipper was impaled on his troll cock, a cock as gigantic and as gnarled and as knotty and as black as sin. And brother squeezed brother's hand and shivered with great fright, for it was beyond belief and their hearts told them they would not live through a turn like that.

"Spouse!"

Bergekongen's voice thundered and ricocheted.

"Spouse! Bitch! String'em up!"

And out of the shadows emerged a lady, tall of stature and large of bosom, long, flowing hair fairer than either brother's, robed in gold-embroidered blues, her beauty awesome and terrible, but her gait was devoid of will and her eyes were devoid of life as she gripped one brother and then the other in iron hands devoid of mercy and hauled them off to string them up in the corner meant for stringing up.

But as she had strung their arms up above their fair heads, and looked into their fair faces, and her eyes met their fair eyes, a small flicker of light appeared in those dead eyes, a light of remembrance, a light of hope, and she closed her eyes and left.

And there they hung, and fat little troll nippers came waddling, and rough little troll hands pulled boy trousers down to ankles, and rough little troll fingers tugged at boy things until boy things stood out like spears, and rough little troll teeth nipped at sacks that hung beneath boy things.

"Oh, Oskar! This will be the end of my days, long before they were meant to end."

"Oh, Isak. Do not cry. We know not what tomorrow holds."

"Oh, Oskar. Tomorrow holds piercing and splitting by that unholy spear of the mountain king. Tomorrow holds horror and death. Tomorrow holds two scrawny bodies left to rot in this corner where now we are helplessly strung up to await our bitter end."

"Oh, Isak, my little Isak, speak not so. For all hope is not out, did you not see the flicker of light in the eyes of that dame?"

And rough little troll fingers continued their ministrations and whispering little troll voices turned to giggles and laughter as panting breath turned to moan, for no boy can fight the needs of his body, and a boy's needy thing soon comes to the point where it cares not whether its release comes from beauty or beast.

"Spouse! Bring me the little one, the tender one, the tight one! For the lust for Christian virgin flesh is growing in me and my cock needs the tight sheath of Christian virgin boy hole!"

But when the stately lady of such terrifying beauty came to cut the little boy down, the flicker of hope relighted in her dead eyes, and she pulled the little boy's trousers up instead of off, and her hand went to pocket and silver whistle went to boy's lips, and a piercing sound like the wails of a thousand beasts penetrated the hall, and the mountain rumbled and cracked, and the sunlight poured in, and every ungodly troll creature screamed, and screaming, turned to stone.

And in the rubble the lady stood, her beauty as brilliant and as radiant as the sun itself.

"Twelve years have I here been held, and twelve cups of oblivion have I drunk, and twelve pairs of twins have I borne to the king of the mountain, and now I must off to church, for my soul is in great need of healing."

She tore off the top of her gown, and her hair tumbled down to cover her succulent breasts, and she handed the boys the torn off piece of embroidered silk.

"Gather what gold you find here and wrap it in this cloth but touch not the gold. Bury it by the river, and there it must stay buried for three days and three nights, for it is troll gold, and troll gold is harmful. But after three days and three nights the gold will be purified and cleansed of evil, and the reward will be yours to collect."

At this she bent down and kissed each brother's forehead, then rose and called out a name, her voice rang through the forest like a hundred silver bells, and at once they heard the thunder of hooves, and a magnificent stallion came crashing through the trees, its shiny black coat gleaming in the sun. And the lady mounted the proud steed and rode off.

The path found, the river revisited, and the gold buried, the brothers sat on the riverbank to rest a spell.

"Oh, Oskar. My heart is heavy with things I do not understand. For when those foul creatures played with my thing, instead of feeling defiled and desecrated, I felt a wonderful joy in my limbs, a tingling joy unlike any joy I felt before, and I did not want it to stop. How could that be?"

"Oh, Isak. The same thing happened to me, and when I was sure the joy could not feel any greater, it did, and it was like everything that hid inside my thing was flung from me in a firework of bliss. And God have mercy on me, for I understood why that unsavoury beast wanted his thing, as ugly and foul as it was, inside warm flesh, for I thought I too would much like that."

"Oh, Oskar. Are we learning good things or are we perchance learning bad things?"

"Oh, Isak, my Isak. I think we are learning life."

This time they chose the right path, but their hearts were still troubled and dark from the ordeal in the mountain, and now their bare feet walked on uneven and unwelcoming ground. But the path followed the river, and every now and then their sore feet would cool and heal in the rushing waters.

Although the cumbersome path made time seem to pass slowly, they had not walked for longer than it takes to muck out and clean up a pigsty when the sun set and the moon rose, and their ears caught the sound of music from afar. And what music it was! Melancholy and jolly at the same time, silvery and frail like birdsong and boisterous and lively like baby goats, and the brothers both felt the pull of the music, and neither brother stopped to think twice about following the music to its source.

They came to a waterfall, and under the pale moon and in the cascading waters a man sat fiddling on a fiddle, and it was a man of young years and of great beauty, and what skin on his body that the water did not hide seemed to glow in the faint light of the moon, and both brothers felt the pull grow stronger. The fiddler stopped his fiddling, and his voice when he spoke his words was as soft as a new-born kitten and as caressing as a mother's hand.

"Upon my word, two scrawny boys, and all alone on a moonlit night! Pray, what errand brings you here at this late hour?"

The older brother spoke.

"No errand, good master Fossegrimen, but the call of your fiddle, for never have we heard music as beautiful as yours."

"No Christian man or boy ever comes to me without purpose, and the purpose is to learn to play, and for this learning it is customary to bring me a gift of meat. A leg of lamb, a rump of pork, a plucked and ready goose. Tell me, what gift of meat did you bring?"

"Nothing did we bring, good master, save ourselves, and there is precious little meat to be had from our scraggy bodies. But may we not sit for a while and listen?"

"No gift but yourselves, is it? Well then, rid yourselves of your garments and disclose what little meat your gift may provide. Only then will I play, and only then will you learn a sweet tune."

And so charming was his voice and so spellbinding were his words that the brothers thought no more, and four pieces of clothing disappeared, and soon two boys stood naked and pale before the fiddler.

"Yes, my pretty friends, your gift I will indeed enjoy, for the meat I now desire is in front of my eyes, and delightful it looks, and play I will."

And Fossegrimen fiddled a tune that enchanted the brothers and drove the remnants of darkness from their hearts, and mesmerized they watched him rise from the water and shake out his long, black hair, and his body was slender and sleek, and his member was long and luscious, and little brother whispered:

"Oh, Oskar, look! His thing is a thing of such beauty, and my poor little hands ache to hold his thing!"

"Oh, Isak. In truth you are right. His thing is surely a thing of wondrous beauty, and my hungry little tongue aches to taste his thing, but why it is so, I do not know!"

The man laughed, and his laughter was like the music from his fiddle.

"Come now, my pretty boys, come and lie on the grass, and call my thing by its name, for its true name is cock, and cock you will hold, and cock you will taste, and music you will hear, sweeter than any you've heard before."

And he knelt before the boys that lay prone on the grass, and little hands held his cock, and hungry tongue tasted his cock, and his cock rose to its full glory and the brothers marvelled at its glorious beauty. Brother looked brother deep in the eyes, for they felt a great unity in sharing this worship, and both were fain to learn more of this promised music.

And music it was that the fiddler played upon them. His skilled fingers played dancing tunes on skinny thighs and flat stomachs; his skilled lips played princely melodies on soft earlobes and stiff nipples. And little brother's thing was sheathed between warm lips, and little brother's thing rose to serious stiffness now it got to know the tantalizing impact of licking tongue and the overwhelming thrill of sucking mouth, and delight tingled in little brother's loins, and joy grew in his little body and rose to a storm that chased through his shivering limbs. And big brother's thing was made moist and slippery, and big brother's thing grew bigger than ever as it learned how to plough into the hole between a man's firm buttocks and got to know the guessed at and longed for and immense pleasure of disappearing into warm flesh, and in his bliss, big brother's only thought was that his thing was no longer a thing, but a cock, and it was a cock that exploded deep within the velvety sheath and drained his young balls of all they had in them.

And boys' fingers touched and met on balls big like falcon's eggs in a silken pouch, and boys' lips kissed and met on silken skin that covered a shaft long as an infant's arm and hard as a wooden fencepost, and finally seed fell like rain on the brothers, seed that rained from the cock that had bewitched them with its beauty, seed that rained from the man who had played the sweetest of all music upon them.

And a small voice spoke.

"Oh, good master Fossegrimen, thank you for this music. For this is the sweetest music I have known, and this is the music I do not think I can live without!"

And a not so small voice spoke.

"Oh, good master Fossegrimen, thank you for teaching me my thing is not a thing, but a cock, for now I know my cock can make sweet music too, and this I will practice whenever I can."

And Fossegrimen spoke, and his was a voice dripping honey, his was a voice that swaddled the boys in silk.

"Oh, my pretty boys. Any man or boy can kill a beast and present me with dead meat, but life is far more precious than death, and you have given life."

And he gave the older brother a bow and three silver-tipped arrows, and he gave the younger brother a small violin with its bow.

"Take good care of these, for they will be of help when dire times call for courage and when peril is all that welcomes you."

And at that he dived into the waterfall and vanished, and the boys saw that his feet had fins like the fins of a fish. And listening to the rush and the roar of the waterfall, the brothers fell asleep in each other's arms on grass as soft as a feathered bed.

Morning came, and the brothers took off again, glad of heart and light of foot.

"Oh, Oskar! My poor and miserable body now feels whole and strong, and my downcast soul now feels full of joy. Is it not a wonder and a marvel?"

"Oh, Isak, it is without question a marvel. Who would have thought our boy things, our cocks, had in them the power to heal our misery? Yes, it is a wondrous thing indeed!"

They had not walked for longer than it takes to cut up straw and fill a vat and bring to the boil when hunger started to gnaw at their innards, and in front of them the path led to a low hut, as green and leafy as the forest itself, and a welcoming door stood open and beckoned them.

Inside a table was laden with silver dishes filled to overflowing with food of all kinds, there was meat and there was fish, there was fruit and there were berries and there were nuts, and there was bread fresh from the oven and butter as yellow as the sun. And behind the table stood a young woman of dazzling beauty, hair of spun gold, lips of ripe strawberries, and slender body swathed in the flimsiest of cloth, so misty and thin that her high breasts with pert nipples were clear for all to see, as was the shadowy garden patch between her thighs.

"How now, good brothers, hail and well met! Far from home you are and hungry you must be."

And brother looked at brother, struck by awe they were, and filled with forebodings, but empty stomachs wield a swift whip to dismiss reluctance and reserve.

The older brother let his voice be heard.

"The best of mornings to you, fair maid. Truly we are two hungry boys and far from home, and gladly would we offer some service should you so want, and that for a bite to eat and no more. Pray tell us what assistance we may render."

"Fair spoken, young one, but no service do I require until you have stilled your hunger and quenched your thirst, and then will we speak of such things."

And the boys sat down at the table, and they ate of the meat and the fish, and they ate of the warm bread where butter melted, and they drank of silver cups filled with water as clear as crystal, and they fell into a dark and deep sleep.

By and by the boys awakened from their dark and deep sleep and saw they were naked, and all their possessions taken from them.

"Oh, Oskar! What fiendish state if affairs is this? For I cannot move!"

"Oh, Isak, my little Isak! I fear hunger made fools of us, for we have been subject to treachery and wickedness, and dark arts and evil spells it is that bind us."

And laughter was heard from the darkest corner, and the golden-haired woman rose from the shadows.

"True spoken, young one, you are indeed bound by spells, and so you will remain, and for how long I do not yet know."

And the older brother spoke, and not nicely, for he gathered polite words would bring no relief to their predicament.

"Villainous vixen and black-hearted witch! What use are we to you bound and captive?"

"As you are, none. But I will nurture and tend your useless little pizzles and grow them large enough to give me a proper ride. And then we shall see."

And saying so, she came to them with bottles and pots, and potions were forced in past boy lips, and stinking salves were smeared onto boy things, and boy things were squeezed and pulled and pinched until the brothers screamed.

And when she was done and turned around, they saw no back where a back should be, but a hollow, and the tail like the tail of a cow wagged and waved from her rump.

And brother looked at brother, and dread was in their eyes, and the little one whispered to the not so little one.

"Oh, Oskar! My heart freezes, for is this not Huldra herself?"

And the second day came and left, and potions were forced in past boy lips, and stinking salves were smeared onto boy things, and boy things were squeezed and pulled and pinched until the brothers screamed.

And the third day came, and potions were forced in past boy lips, and stinking salves were smeared onto boy things, and boy things were squeezed and pulled and pinched until the brothers howled and screamed like voices from hell.

But it so happened that a man was out in the woods chopping trees for the winter's firewood, and screams of torment and agony caught his ears, and this he had to investigate.

Axe on shoulder he came to the green and leafy hut, and his booted foot kicked open the door, and his eyes took in what was there to take in, and since he was a man of noble heart and fearless soul, his voice rose and rumbled.

"Vile creature! Malevolent harpy! Release your prey, or my axe will find a home in your wretched brain!"

But Huldra laughed and swished and danced in front of the captive boys, shielding them from his view.

"My word! A man of Christian blood, and a man of courage, and a man of strength! And if I am right, a man who commands some solid equipment to please and satisfy my cravings!"

And she lifted her flimsy dress, and her lady parts twitched and quivered and winked at the man.

"Misshapen hussy, hide your shameful muff! For restless snatch that reeks of low tide has never been dear to me, and your foul display is in vain!"

And the man threw his axe at her, but it embedded itself in the wall, for she ducked, and quick as the wind she picked up the older brother's bow and laid on a silver tipped arrow and drew the bow and aimed.

"Foolhardy cretin! Ill-judged mockery and unwise turndowns are not to my liking, and if your cock you will not give to me, it shall be given to none!"

And a twang sounded from quivering bowstring, and a swish sounded from flying arrow. But just as the silver tip was about to lodge itself in Christian man's chest, the arrow turned and flew back, and the silver point buried itself in Huldra's black heart, and she withered like a dead leaf and fell.

And at once the spell was broken, and the brothers threw themselves at the feet of their saviour, and thankful words sang from their lips, and the man bent down and lifted their chins.

"Rise now, young boys. For it was not I who saved you, but the arrow and the bow, and never have I seen the likes of it. From whence did it come, that bow?"

And the boys rose, and the man's eyes were on them, and a smile curled his lips.

"Oh, good Sir, it was Fossegrimen himself that gave me that bow and those arrows with the promise of safety and protection, but that evil creature took them from me, and my brother's fiddle and my brother's silver whistle to boot, for she intended to grow our things large to fit her hole, and though we were not impartial to having bigger things, she gave us but pain and suffering in the undertaking."

And the man's smile widened, and his voice softened.

"And well I see some success, for rarely has a man seen better equipped boys, and lovely your cocks are to behold, and lovely your cocks would be to have in hand. But now we must leave, and when we have left this den of evil, you must tell me the hows and the whys and the wheres of it all."

And the brothers found their shirts and their trousers and all their belongings, and the man pulled his axe from the wall, and together they left the hut, and when they turned their heads to look back, the hut was no more, bur merely a pile of withering leaves for the wind to play with.

Sat in the man's one-horse cart and bumping along, the brothers told their story. And when they got to the end, the man shook his head and grumbled and spat, and told them his name.

"I know the village from whence you came, for it was once my village as well. And much do I hate them there, for I too was driven from the village, and all for dipping my wick where some thought it should not be dipped, and never did they ask about the love that lay in the dipping. And now I will ask, nay, beg of you to come with me, and stay with me if so you should wish, and sweet music may well be played for all of us to enjoy. For what love there is in my heart, that love is the love for boys like yourselves."

Little brother set his eyes on the man.

"Oh, kind and gentle Sir Lukas, much would I like to be your friend and companion, but only if my brother will, for since our parents died, my brother is my only love."

And big brother laid his hand on wood-cutter's firm knee.

"Oh, kind and handsome Sir Lukas, I will come with you if my brother says he will, for he is my only love, and what he wants, I also want. But I have been thinking that I would much like to pay our village back for their meanness and for their heartlessness and for sending us to live with the Pig Man."

And the man laid his hand on big brother's hand and laid his arm around little brother's shoulder.

"Well now, my lovely and unexpected friends, that sounds like a different kind of music, but it sounds well in my ears. Let us now dig up and collect your booty of gold, and let us then proceed to my modest abode, and there we will share a meal and speak of revenge, and learn more of one another, and come tomorrow we will go to the village."

The brothers found the man's small log-cabin pleasant to the eyes and warming to the heart, and when they had eaten a roasted hare and drunk a tankard of mild beer, and when they had laid their plans for the day to come, the man's simple bed beckoned, and just wide enough it was for a man and two skinny brothers.

And the man held them and kissed their lips, and he stroked their smooth backs and their smooth bottoms, but lightly, lightly as the wings of a bird, and he whispered sweet words in their ears. And face to face, and cheeks resting on the soft hairs of the man's wide chest, and with strong arms cradling them the boys fell asleep.

And when morning came and the man eased himself out of bed and out of door to relieve himself, brother looked at brother.

"Oh, Oskar. Could it be that here is where we are meant to be, for this morning my heart feels full, and my thing is long and stiff and hankers for Sir Lukas' touch. Feel you not the same?"

"Oh, Isak, indeed I do. Tonight, we will make it clear to Sir Lukas that our lips and our hands and our cocks will be at his disposal, should he want them. For although the horrible creature came only halfway with her cultivation, your thing is now truly worthy to be called cock, and sweet music it will give, and sweet music it will receive, of that I am certain."

"Oh, Oskar, I must confess strange thoughts to you, for upon seeing Sir Lukas leave our bed with his cock solid and hard and all but the length of Fossegrimen's, I have wondered what cock would feel like inside me, for the horror of seeing the troll spear his kid has left me, and I have at this moment a finger in my most secret hole."

"Oh, Isak, my little Isak, I know not what to say. Does your finger bring you joy? For I know nothing of finger in hole, but I do well remember the delight of having my thing turn to cock in Fossegrimen's hole, and I do well remember Fossegrimen's delight at having my cock in his hole, but Sir Lukas' weapon is twice the size of what mine was and I fear the pain would overshadow the joy. Think you it would be too forward to ask Sir Lukas about these things? But for now I will do as you and my most secret hole will learn the feel of my finger."

And the man came in and his eyes blinked twice at the sight that met him, for on his bed lay two naked boys, one small and one not so small, face to face staring into each other's eyes, and each had first finger hidden in the depth between skinny buttocks. And the sight delighted the man more than he could give voice to, and he knelt and kissed each skinny shoulder and each skinny hip.

"Oh, my precious boys, I would like nothing better than to please my eyes with the sight of you for a while, and perchance join in the celebration of your flesh, but the sun is up and the day advances, and our scheme should be put into action. So rise now and let us dress and eat and be on our way."

Evening drew nigh when horse and cart with man and two boys rolled into the village. All through the village they rode, and many were the stares, and many a chest was crossed, for man and boys were none of them forgotten by the villagers. All through the village they rode, and at the edge of the village the horse halted by himself in front of a house with many gables and small towers and a wide porch along the whole front.

The man stepped out, and with one foot on the porch, his voice rose to thunder.

"Come out, you sanctimonious devil! For this is not your home, and your stay here is nothing but thievery!"

And out came the oldest of the elders, and his countenance was not best pleased.

"Shut your foul mouth, depraved filth that you are! For you are not of this village anymore, and this is now my home, and leave it I will not!"

"We will see about that!"

And the oldest of the elders' mouth fell open, for he saw the oldest of the brothers draw bow and take aim, and fear came into his heart, and he sank to his knees and his voice turned into a timid squeak.

"For the love of God, shoot not! And where would you have me go? I have no other place to reside!"

"Little I care! For did you care that I had no other place of housing when you outlawed me two winters ago? And did you care when you sent two unhappy and bereaved brothers to inhabit a squalid pigsty and suffer hunger and despair in slavery? Out now! Or this arrow will swiftly find its target!"

And the oldest of the elders left in a hurry with nothing but the clothes he stood up in.

And Sir Lukas and the boys went into the house, and the brothers gaped in wonder at the large room with ornamented panels and two carved staircases and a huge soapstone fireplace.

"My house! My chairs and my tables tarnished and tainted by that dirty hypocrite! My cups and my saucers stained and soiled by that filthy Pharisee! His disgusting garments flung about, and were I to go into my bedroom, the stench of his limbs would surely cling to my linen! Phooey!"

And the man gathered the oldest of the elders' belongings and with the help of the brothers threw them out, and a big heap they made on the cobblestones, and when all was out and heaped up, he put his hands on the boys' shoulders.

"Now, my young friends, let us bring in what we brought with us, and put the horse in the stable, and take residence here, if for nothing else than to spite the pious and self-righteous scoundrels of this village."

Evening meal was shared and downed, and man and boys stripped down and immersed themselves in the stream behind the house to do away with the day's exertions. And nightfall came and the man looked thoughtfully at the boys.

"I have in my house two rooms with beds of equal size, one on top of each staircase, and now that I have rid the beds of sheets polluted by that hypocrite, and fresh sheets have taken their place, I leave it to you to choose your roost for the night."

And brother looked at brother.

"Oh, good Sir Lukas, would you think us too forward and too bold if we were to ask to be bedded with you? For we both long to share with you what is ours to share, and we both have a need in our hearts for seek for more than last night."

"Oh, handsome Sir Lukas, we have but once met the fullness of the joyful music that lips and hands and cocks bring about, and we both long to seek for more than last night, for we both reckon there is more to find."

"Oh, my lovely lads, those words are sweet to my ears, for I am more than fain to obey your wishes, and if I could have my wishes fulfilled also, the journey of our bodies towards bliss will be a journey of love as well as carnal rapture. For when cocks and hearts play together, there is no sweeter music in this world."

And many kisses were shared on the man's bed, and much skin was felt, and smells tickled nostrils and tastes tickled tongues, and cocks rose to the delight of hands and lips, and the youngest brother could no longer keep within what weighed on his mind.

"Oh, kind Sir Lukas, do not think me brazen, but lately I have been much given to thoughts of cock inside me, and I feel compelled to ask about the feasibility of this."

And the man laughed softly and kissed the young brother's lips.

"Oh, pretty one, to have his cock inside a lovely boy is every man's notion of paradise, but time is not ripe for that, for my cock is much too large for your little body and would bring only pain. But do not fret, for there are other ways of pleasing that hidden place where in a future year my cock would most happily seek lodging."

And with this he steered the two boys to lay side by side, and their legs were lifted high and spread, and two rosy and wrinkled little flowers lay open for him, and his tongue tickled and prodded first the one and then the other, and many surprised moans and many purrs of pleasure rose from the bed, and bodies writhed and wriggled. And the man pulled back the skin that covered the tip of his cock, and an egg-shaped head was revealed, and moist and slick it was, and the man held his cock in his hand and rubbed the tip against those little rosebuds in turn, and brother looked at brother, and in silent accord lips met, and lips opened, and lips sucked, and the brothers shared their first kiss that was a proper kiss.

And the beauty of the kissing boys struck the man with such force his balls drew up tight in his groin and his cock throbbed and erupted and spread his seed all over the brothers' puckered and closed little holes. And the man rubbed the moisture into the little holes and carefully inserted a finger in each, and then he bowed down, and as fingers slowly ploughed deep into boy holes, boy cocks were in turn swallowed and sucked until little brother first felt the tingles of bliss spread through and shake his limbs, and not so little brother next felt the throbs of ecstasy spread through and shake his limbs, and he shot his seed out to be tasted and eaten by the man.

Man and brothers woke with the clamour of shouting voices ringing in their ears. And the man's face turned grim with resentment and hatred, and the boys' hearts were filled and weighted with anguish.

For outside had gathered the most prominent men of the village, nine in number, and six of them with son and heir at their sides, and big sharpened sticks were in some hands and lighted torches in others, and their angry words sounded clear through the walls.

"Get you all out from this house and away from this village, for there is no room here for depravity and disease! And will you not leave of your own free will, your bodies will know our spears and this house we will burn down!"

And little brother looked at not so little brother, and then at the man who had shown them so much joy and so much comfort, and his little heart swelled, and he straightened his little back.

"Oh, Oskar! Oh, Sir Lukas! My heart tells me my time has come, but I think not in a bad way, for time has come for me and my gift to play our part, for surely these are dire times that call for courage and this is a day when peril is all that welcomes us, and it is as foretold by Fossegrimen."

And the assembled mob's noise abated as the door opened, and gasps were heard when out came not the man they expected, but a slip of a boy with a small fiddle in his hand. And naked he was as the day he was born, and skinny as a reed, but fair and pleasing of face, and his boy thing could boast of more than that of any other little boy in the village, and a few of the men felt that perhaps they had been a little hasty in banning this boy from the village, for though he was still underfed, he looked not sick at all, but quite beautiful.

They had not thought that thought to its end before the boy lifted the fiddle, and the moment bow touched strings music unlike any music ever heard in the village poured out, and the music sidled into all ears, and flowed into all limbs, and every man and boy that heard it lost every cold and mean thought that had filled their hearts, and none could withstand the joy and the lust that grew in them, and limbs trembled, and blood pounded in chests and in groins.

And nine men shed their clothes, as did six boys in their wake, and all their inherited and ingrown ideas of shame and propriety were chased off by lustful need and desire for the pleasures of the flesh. Cocks grew to stand up, big ones and small ones alike, lips were licked, and fingers itched to touch skin, and before long hard flesh vanished between soft lips, and stiff poles were firmly lodged within willing holes, and presently the sheriff had his mighty cock thrust deep in a tight cave, a cave that was found between the silversmith's son's young and coltish legs, and two members of the clergy, out of their canonicals and flabby arses jiggling, had their puny cocks in mouth and arse of the schoolmaster's son, a boy of a mere seven years. Fifteen bodies writhed and wriggled, fifteen mouths drooled, and fifteen throats moaned, and soon all cocks of seeding ability throbbed and twitched and spat their pearly fluid high up in air or deep in fleshy tunnel, and those with no seed to eject quivered and tingled and whimpered.

And out on the porch came Sir Lukas, and big brother Oskar came out, and not a stich of clothing was in sight, be it on porch or cobblestoned yard, and little brother Isak was lifted to sit on Sir Lukas' powerful shoulders, and little brother Isak let bow fall from fiddle, and music died. And Sir Lukas's eyes fell on the jumble of prone villagers, for like a herd of contented cattle lay the drained men and the spent boys, and his booming voice rose.

"Now, you men of this village, with your stony hearts and your recipes of proper conduct and your catalogues of sin, with your misguided and twisted concept of charity and care, with your dark fears of everything carnal, and your blind dismissal of desire and of pleasure, now go to your homes and think twice about what you have here learned, and let your lips remember this day, and let your cocks remember this day, and seek you then to share the joy of the flesh and the love of the heart with those who will share with you, and let us all reside here in peace."

And nine prominent villagers rose, tired but well satisfied, and six giggling sons of prominent villagers rose with them, and no word was again spoken against Sir Luke or the brothers.

And Sir Luke and the boys lived high and merry, for both love and gold they had in abundance, and much joy they shared and many friends they found, and one moonlit night little Isak finally learned what it feels like to have cock inside him, and the feeling was much to his liking.

And the village prospered and thrived, and should strife arise, and quarrel turn up, the adversaries would take themselves to a house with many gables and small towers and a wide porch along the whole front, and a boy would fiddle sweet tunes to them on a small fiddle, and foe would turn friend, and peace would again reign in the happy village.

Snipp, snapp, snute

Saa var eventyret ute.

****

A few of my other stories:

https://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/adult-youth/the-willow-flute.html

https://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/adult-youth/mr-marshall-stops-running.html

https://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/adult-youth/oh-martin