An adult stories – Searching for Amarillo Pt. 02 by Jorunn,Jorunn Searching for Amarillo, Pt. 2
This story is about two characters I created in an earlier story called Chasing Fairies. However, armed with the brief summary below, you should be able to enjoy this story without needing to read those earlier stories.
Summary: In Chasing Fairies, a jilted bull rider from Texas escapes to a remote cabin in Norway with a broken heart. There, he meets a forest spirit known as a Huldra. They spend a night in the forest, and she manages to heal his broken heart. He asks her name, but she refuses to tell him, so he call her Amarillo, after his favorite country music song. In turn, she calls him Texas. She tells him that a Huldra and a human cannot have a life together, and she returns to the forest the following morning. In Searching for Amarillo, Pt. 1, Texas returns to Norway to search for Amarillo, but his only clue is to look in a tween place, somewhere between one place and another. Texas gets trapped in a snowstorm, and is rescued by Amarillo. They spend an erotic day together at the remote cabin, where he learns about Norwegian food and customs. This story picks up the following morning.
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CHAPTER 2-1 – Cowboy coffee
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The first rays of morning sun entered the cabin and I rolled over to look at Texas. My movement must have stirred him. He opened his eyes and smiled back. I rose up onto my left elbow, stretched out to kiss Texas quickly on his lips, then reached beneath the blanket in search of his cock.
As I wrapped my fingers around it, I marveled at how soft and flexible a cock can be, at least at times. A little rubbing and squeezing soon changed that.
“I think your recovery from the snowstorm is progressing well, but we should probably test your cock one more time to make sure it still works.”
Texas smiled and questioned, “Just one more time?”
“For now,” I replied. I have not told Texas that I must leave him today, but as warden of the forest I must look after the trees and animals. The same as I told him last fall, a Huldra and a human cannot have a life together.
I rose to a kneeling position next to Texas and pulled back the blanket. His cock had grown, but I knew there was still more work to do. I licked my right hand, from heel to fingertip, then repeated with my left. I used my hands to surround his cock. With the added moisture, I was able to twist my hands around him as I stroked his cock, drawing my hands up and down the entire length of his shaft.
I looked at Texas, ran my tongue over my lips, and said, “It looks like your cock is waking up. I hope you’re having as much fun as I am.”
Texas didn’t reply, or couldn’t reply, his open mouth and glazed eyes speaking for him. I leaned further toward him, extended my tongue, and it touched the head of his cock. Picking up a strand of pre-cum, I pulling back slowly, allowing it to stretch out before snapping back.
I kept stroking, and said to Texas, “I love how your cock feels as it slips through my hands.” Texas began breathing harder. My hands were slowly drying out, and I could tell as the friction was increasing. It was time to fix that, so I pressed a wet tongue against his cock, just below his head, and drew it up and away. I looked at Texas and watched his chest heave, then went back three more times until the head of his cock glistened, and my saliva trickled down his shaft.
My hands grasped him again, spreading the new moisture, and Texas moaned. I said, “It looks like you like that,” then exhaled strongly, took in a breath, and added, “I like that too.” I began making a series of soft coos and moans of anticipation. Texas began pushing upward with his hips, so I softened my grip and let his movements combine with mine.
“Do my warm, wet hands feel like a tight little pussy, pressing and squeezing your cock? Would you like to sink your cock into the real thing?” Texas had his tongue hanging out of his mouth and nodded yes. My hands moved faster, and I stroked him with more intensity.
A ribbon of cum shot into the air, barely missing me, as his cock throbbed in my hands. I kept stroking and four smaller loads of cum gushed from his tip and slowly ran down my hands. “I think we can say that your cock has recovered and is working as expected.”
We cleaned up and I tended the fire, while Texas prepared what he called an American breakfast. Fried potatoes he called Home Fries, along with bacon, eggs, and toast cooked over the fire. He also made his famous cowboy coffee, slowly adding cold water down the spout of the coffee kettle to sink the grounds. It is quite fun sharing our different cultures.
I had to tell Texas, and now was as good a time as any. “I must return to the forest today, and watch over it. I will need to leave you again.”
He looked shocked. “I came all the way to Norway, and we were only together for one day?”
I expected his disappointment. “I told you, that a Huldra and a human can never have a life together. It is my duty to care for the forest.”
Texas pleaded, “Won’t you give me just one more day? The guide who rented me the snowmobile recommended a concert in a small-town east of here. I know you like music and creativity. I was hoping to surprise you by taking you there.”
Texas looked so sad. I gave in. “Very well. I will go with you today, but you must let me return to my forest tomorrow.”
“Every day with you is priceless, Amarillo. If we must part once again, then let us make the most of today. We’ll take the snowmobile to reach my car.”
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Chapter 2-2 – The Snowmobile
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Texas removed a snowmobile suit from a cloth pack, and told me, “I guessed at your size. I hope these fit.”
It looked big, but I replied, “It will work.”
We both dressed in our suits, put on helmets, and went outside. Texas stowed his backpack in the snowmobile, and we climbed on. I wrapped my arms around Texas as he started the motor, and I could feel the vibrations beneath me. We started moving and I jerked backwards from some invisible force. I closed my eyes and hugged Texas even tighter.
As we traveled, I began to feel familiar motions, different, yet similar to when I ski. I opened my eyes and peeked over his shoulder, looking ahead as we flew over the snow. I began to anticipate when to lean and started to enjoy the ride. We passed through a section of old forest, where the trees were larger and further apart.
Leaving the old forest, Texas stopped the snowmobile near red barn and turned the motor off. He opened his helmet and said, “How are you doing?”
“Better,” I said. “I am getting used to riding this snow machine.”
“We will be following an unplowed road up ahead. It goes through tightly packed spruce trees where the branches reach across and almost touch each other. It seems so ancient and dark and primeval to me.”
I looked ahead, and saw where Texas was going to take us. “Texas, that is a spruce plantation planted by man. There is nothing ancient about it. All the trees are the same height, all the trunks are the same size, and soon, all of the trees will be cut down.”
I continued, “We just left the oldest part of the forest, what you might call the heart of the forest. The trees are different sizes and shapes, and there is room between them. There are incredibly old trees and very young trees, and all ages in between. There are also dead trees, where animals and insects make their homes. The old forest is full of life and energy. There is very little of either up ahead.”
Texas looked at me, “I never thought of it that way before, but I suppose you are right. Even in Texas, the birds and animals live along fence lines and windbreaks rather than in the middle of a planted and mowed pasture.”
We took the snowmobile through the spruce plantation, and it was beautiful in its own way. We made it down the mountain to where his auto was parked, then began driving east, neither of us knowing exactly where we were going. Passing through a small town, Texas was able to pick up a cell phone signal, and it showed the route to the small town of Ål.
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Chapter 2-3 – The Tuntre
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We drove into the town, and I marveled at all the buildings, the colors, the people, and the many cars. Then I felt something odd. Texas followed the flow of traffic around a small circle, and I yelled, “STOP THE AUTO!”
“WHOA! What’s the matter?” yelled Texas as he applied the brakes.
“There! Look there! It’s a Tuntre!” I jumped from the auto amid the traffic, and told Texas to find a parking place and meet me here at the circle.
Within the circle was a large and very old Ash tree. I climbed over piles of plowed snow and approached the tree. I tried to wrap my arms around the tree, but the trunk was much too large. I did my best to hug the Tuntre.
“Hello Tuntre,” I said silently in my mind.
The Tuntre silently replied, “Hello Huldra. It has been a great many years since I spoke with one such as yourself.”
“It is good to see you Tuntre. Tell me your story.”
“Very long ago, I was a young tree in the middle of the forest. Farmers came, and cut down many trees for their fields, but they showed me respect, and left me in the middle of one of their fields. The farmer would come and rest under my shade after working on his fields, and his children would play beneath me and climb my limbs. I missed the other trees, but it was a happy time.”
The Tuntre continued, “More people arrived, and a town was established. The town needed roads, and one led directly to me. But they showed me respect, and made the road go around either side of me. They established a park with a bench, where people could come and sit. More and more people came, and the town grew even larger. More cars needed to use the road, and so they made it wider, taking away much of my park.”
“More trees in the nearby forest were cut down to build homes and keep the people warm. As the number of trees diminished, the forest no longer had enough energy for a Huldra, and one day, she was gone, along with the rest of the trees. Now I am alone, the last remnant of my forest, and few people today even remember what a Tuntre is.”
It was such a sad story. I began crying, and the tears rolled down my cheeks and landed in the snow.
“It is winter, Huldra, and I have no leaves. If I had one, I would shed it along with your tears.”
I reached up and pulled down one of the Tuntre’s branches. At the tip was a tiny bud. Cupping it between my hands, I breathed into my hands, giving the bud my energy, and a green leaf sprouted.
“Thank you Huldra. I cannot spare what little energy remains within me to keep your gift green until spring.”
“I ask you to keep it green for one day, to honor the trees that have been lost forever.”
“I will do that for you, Huldra.”
Just then, Texas caught up with me. “Why did you stop here, Amarillo?”
I looked at Texas, “This tree is called a Tuntre. There is an ancient tradition in Norway, stretching back even before the age of the Vikings, and it is still honored by a few people today. A sacred tree is planted in the middle of a town to remind us of the cycles of the seasons. The tree seems to die in the winter, but comes back to life in the spring. Many farmers also plant a tree in the middle of their fields. But sadly, both the tradition and belief are fading away.”
I continued, “These trees provide a direct connection to the nature spirits living inside and beneath it. The people here cared for this tree at one time and showed it reverence. As a result, they prospered under the protection of the guardian spirits and enjoyed good fortune. But now, few people remember. This tree is the last one left from the original forest that stood here ages ago.”
Texas said, “We have a similar tree back in Texas called the Treaty Oak. It is the last of a grove of 14 trees called the Council Oaks. Native Americans considered the trees to be sacred, conducted ceremonies beneath them, and signed treaties there. But the last Treaty Oak almost died when someone poisoned it. Native Americans, white witches, religious leaders, and the whole community came together and tried to connect with the spirit of the tree to transfer energy to it and heal it. Against all odds, the tree survived. It is now a symbol of hope and resilience, of strength and endurance, inspiring all who see it.”
The Tuntre silently said to me, “A symbol of hope and inspiration that brought the whole community together. I like that, Huldra. He is a good man.”
I replied, “I know Tuntre.”
“I will keep the leaf you gave me green, for as long as I can. Many thanks to both yourself and to the man.”
I said, “Goodbye, Tuntre. I hope we meet again.”
I looked at Texas and took his hand in mine. “The Tuntre says he likes your story. We can go now.”
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Chapter 2-4 – Dansende Fe
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Texas said to me, “One thing we have to do is find a hotel so we can spend the night here. I promise I’ll have you back in your forest early tomorrow morning.”
As we walked around the town, we passed a small hotel. I got excited when I saw the name on the sign, ‘Dansende Fe’. “This is the place!” I yelled. Texas asked me why I picked this particular hotel.
“Dansende Fe means ‘The Dancing Fairy'”, I replied with a smile. “What place could be better!”
We entered the small lobby area and went to the check-in desk. Luckily, they had one room available for tonight, but it would not be ready until later today. But we also received some bad news, and were told that the concert was sold out for tonight. The clerk suggested we go to the amphitheater anyway, as it was worth the visit, and we might hear some of the musicians practicing. He gave us a few simple directions and we began the short walk.
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Chapter 2-5 – Broken Strings
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Arriving at the amphitheater we saw a woman outside clearing a bit of snow from near the entrance. She said we were welcome to go inside and look around, but must not touch any of the instruments. Passing through the entrance, we walked toward the stage. It wasn’t wooden, it was made of ice!
“Hei!” shouted a man near the stage. I replied in Norwegian, and asked if he knew English. “Come on over,” he said in an accented English.
Getting a closer look at the stage, there were many odd-looking instruments. Most were clear, and looked to be made of ice. I asked him, “Is everything made of ice and snow? Even the instruments?”
The man introduced himself as the concert leader, and he is also a musician. “We designed this venue, so it requires no permanent structure. When the concert is over, it will simply melt back into nature. The seating has a slight slope so that the heat from the audience rises up and escapes, rather than affecting the instruments. Because the instruments are made of ice, we must keep the stage area as cold as possible during the show.”
He continued, “As you can see, all of the instruments are constructed of ice. We use lake ice for many, but for some, we get ancient ice from a glacier. Man-made ice has too many bubbles, which can deaden the sound. We use chainsaws, hammers, and chisels to shape the instruments. For percussion instruments like the xylophone, we can shape and tune the bars to surprisingly precise notes.”
As Texas and I glanced at the stage, he pointed out a xylophone, hanging chimes, a guitar, two violins, an ice trumpet, an ice harp, a saxophone with two openings, and several odd-shaped horns. The creativity was very impressive.
He resumed, “I like to challenge musicians to make new instruments that might not sound exactly like they are used to. Ice instruments have a softer sound and less resonating space, so we use microphones with all of them. During the concert, the musicians take turns playing, rotating off stage so they can warm their fingers. I do hope you enjoy the show tonight.”
“We just stopped by to look. We got here too late to get tickets.”
“I am sorry, but we are sold out. Lots of people have asked me just today, but we can only fit so many into the amphitheater. We do this every year, so I hope you can come back next year.”
He excused himself, and we strolled among the odd instruments, being careful not to touch any of them or to trip over the many wires. Texas and I approached a musician holding what looked to be an ice guitar.
Using English, he said, “Hello! I heard you talking. This is an ice guitar I made. The body is ice, but the neck, fingerboard, tuning keys, strings, and bridge are from an ordinary guitar. Once we create the body, we chisel out the attachment points and use water as our glue. But I broke a string last night, so you won’t be hearing me play this tonight. I prefer old-fashioned gut strings instead of synthetic ones, which I find too plasticky and thin. Gut strings have much better resonance, but there are none to be found anywhere around here.”
Texas told him, “I’m a traditional cowboy guitar player from Texas, and I agree with you about gut strings. That’s what I use. I have extra strings here in my backpack. Which one do you need?”
“I need a ‘D’ string.”
Texas dug into his pack, found the string, and handed it to the musician. We watched as he carefully put it on the ice guitar and tuned it.
“The challenge with ice instruments is that if you tighten the strings too much, the whole instrument could crack or explode. Another problem is the audience. All those people breathing means the temperature rises, so the strings soften and go down in pitch. That’s what happened last night. I tried to make a small tuning adjustment and the string broke. I really do appreciate this. Why don’t you sit down and try it out? Just be careful, it is made from glacial ice, very dense, and weighs nearly 10 kilograms.”
What a treat this was going to be for Texas. He looped the strap over his head, but the weight must have surprised, so Texas balanced the ice guitar on his knees. Texas then played a short melody.
“Compared to my old wooden guitar, I’d say the sounds are sharper and brighter.”
“You play well, and you have a good ear. Ice doesn’t absorb the vibrations as much, and surprisingly, the sound gets sweeter the more it is played, like with wooden violins. Something with the way the ice crystals are formed.”
I had to add, “He is a real cowboy from Texas and sings really well. American country music songs.”
The musician said, “Thank you so much for the guitar string. How much do I owe you for it?”
Texas responded, “No charge. It was worth the price of the string to get a look at these ice instruments and play one.”
The musician said, “I hope you enjoy the concert tonight.”
I replied, “We would love to be here, but we don’t have tickets.”
The musician replied, “I was saving two tickets for some friends, but they cannot make it. Would you like to use them?”
Texas and I harmonized our reply. “Of course!”
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Chapter 2-6 – The Disappearing Huldra
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Texas and I walked back into town, hoping to find something for lunch. Texas wore blue jeans, cowboy boots, and a cowboy hat. I had on my long flowing white tunic with puffy sleeves.
“People are staring at us, Amarillo.”
“We look different than they do, Texas.”
Texas turned his head and looked across the road. “Let’s see if we can fix that.” We headed for a shop selling outerwear. “We need to buy you some clothes like the other women are wearing.”
“But I’m not like the other women,” I replied with a grin. “But I understand. I will be like the mountain hare, who wears a brown coat in summer, and a white coat in the winter. I will blend into my surroundings.”
I picked out a bright and colorful Norwegian wool sweater from Dale along with matching hat, and added wool trousers. I also picked out a white ice-wool scarf with different colored flecks woven into it. I know nothing about the brands, but the clothing seemed well made and fit me well. Texas decided to stay as he was and accept the stares. I admired him for doing so.
We left the store and Texas said to me, “I look like an American cowboy in Norway, but you are now invisible.”
I shrieked and held up my hand in front of me. “I can see my fingers and see my hand! Texas! Can you still see me? Has some dark magic made me disappear?”
“No, no, no,” laughed Texas. “In those clothes, you blend in perfectly with all the other beautiful Norwegian women we pass, all similarly clad, with clear skin, blonde hair, blue eyes, and their natural stunning beauty.”
I frowned at Texas until he added, “But, of course, you are the most beautiful of all!”
“That’s better,” I replied.
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Chapter 2-7 – Fishballs
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Texas and I were hungry, and rather than eat in a restaurant, I suggested we get hot dogs from a convenience store.
Texas scoffed, “Not exactly fine Norwegian cuisine.”
I replied, “If you prefer, we might be able to find some fishballs.”
“No, no, no. That’s all right. Hot dogs sound good to me.”
“Norwegians eat more hot dogs than people in almost every other country. We call them Pølse, and often wrap them in a flat bread called lompe. You’ll like it, because it looks like a tortilla.”
I ordered one for Texas with mustard, ketchup, and fried onions. I asked for mine with rekesalat.
When Texas saw his hot dog he asked, “Where’s the rest of the bun? The hot dog is sticking way out both ends of this lompe thing.”
“That’s how we serve them here. We take pride in the quality of our sausages. You can get them made of many different kinds of meat, such as reindeer. Take a bite of just the hot dog.”
He did, and said, “It is good. What did you get on your hot dog?”
“I got my favorite topping, shrimp salad.”
Texas laughed and said, “Only Norwegians could figure out how to eat seafood on a hot dog. In Texas, we have something called corn dogs. We dip the hot dog into a corn meal batter and then deep fry it. That’s mighty good eating.”
I had another reason for picking hot dogs for lunch, and now was the time. My hot dog hung out from the ends of my lompe by about 8 centimeters, almost as long as one of my fingers. I opened my mouth, wrapped my lips around the exposed hot dog, and drew it deeper into my mouth. Then I slowly pulled it out. Texas stared at me, so I repeated the motion on the bare meat.
“You have an interesting way of eating a hot dog,” said Texas.
I partially unwrapped the lompe to expose the shrimp salad, extended my tongue, then lapped at the creamy filling, being sure to leave a thin white coating above my upper lip.
“Mmmmm, good,” I said.
I opened my mouth again, and partially took in some of the hot dog. Then I made a show of slowly raking the exposed hot dog with my teeth. Almost at the end of the hot dog, I partially bit down with my teeth, then tore off a piece of the hot dog with a shake of my head. Texas watched me intently, and no longer payed any attention to his own hot dog. I chewed the hot dog slowly within my closed mouth, spreading and puckering my lips.
“How about we finish these hot dogs and go see if our room is ready at the hotel,” said Texas, the bulge at the front of his trousers revealing his true intentions.
I hurriedly took several bites of my hot dog, and discarded the rest, while Texas finished his. He took my hand, and we walked briskly to the hotel.
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Chapter 2-8 – The Big Bed
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Texas and I arrived back at the Dansende Fe, and our room was ready. When we opened the door, I saw the biggest bed I had ever seen. Texas said it was a King-sized bed. I ran and jumped on it, spreading my arms, and landing as if I were diving into a lake. The bed was very soft, and the edges went well beyond my outstretched arms.
“It is such a big bed, Texas! Do we have to share it with anyone else?”
“No, Amarillo, it is all ours for tonight.”
“How will I find you when we turn off the lights?”
“Don’t worry, I’ll find you!” laughed Texas.
I got off the bed and removed my clothes. “Take your clothes off and come over and lay down!” I yelped.
Texas did as I asked, but kept his knickers on. As he lay on the bed, he adjusted a pillow behind his head. “Comfy,” he said.
I glanced at his bulge, then straddled one of his legs. Reaching down, I began rubbing his cock with one finger, right through his knickers. Keeping it contained, I switched between outlining his cock with my finger and squeezing it with my entire hand.
“Does that feel good?” I asked.
“Very!” he replied.
I ran my hands over my torso, rubbing my breasts in a teasing manner, and reached down to draw Texas’ attention to my pussy. I turned around to face away from him, and stretched my leg out to straddle both of his, then settled my pussy onto the bulge in his knickers. His cock rested between my legs, pressing against my pussy, as I slowly ground myself against him. Texas reached out and gently squeezed my bum cheeks.
I turned around to face Texas, and knelt beside him. Grabbing the waistband of his knickers, I pulled them down to expose his nearly erect cock. Leaning forward, I wrapped my right hand around his cock, and brought it to my lips. Using my hand to guide him, I licked just the tip, then took head of his cock into my mouth and began sucking. Texas was now fully erect.
Standing up on the bed, I squatted over his cock. I reached behind me and through my legs to grasp his cock, then guided it into me. With Texas securely inside me, I released my hand and used it to balance myself as I leaned back. My pussy moved up and down the length of his shaft, enjoying the exquisite sensations as he stretched me out. My fluids were flowing freely, and his cock easily glided within me. Texas began breathing harder.
I leaned forward and reached in front of me, grabbing his cock again. It was slick, so I began stroking it with my hand, up and down the length of his shaft, pressing the head against my pussy. Texas couldn’t hold back. “Uhhhh, Uhhhh, Uhhhh!” He shot a load onto my hairy pussy, but I kept stroking, and three more smaller loads followed.
“What got you so excited, so quickly?” I asked.
“Shrimp salad,” he laughed. “You know what you did to me.”
“I do,” I replied. “Seduction is something Huldras are very good at.”
“You’re the best,” said Texas.
I turned around to face away from Texas, pushed his legs apart, then reached beneath me to grasp his still erect cock. I rubbed him against me before guiding his cock into my pussy, then began slowly moving up and down as I rode his cock. It felt so wonderful. I would stop every so often and just sit back on his hips, his cock fully inside me, to enjoy it.
I could feel his cock start to soften, so I knew I had to move quickly. I rose up and squatted over Texas once more, keeping his cock inside me, as his legs came together. I was now able to move more freely, and much faster, and I bounced rapidly up and down on his cock. I began breathing hard, and moans escaped my lips. “Mmmm, Ohhhm, Ahhh!”
“Ahhh! Oooh!” I threw my head back and looked up at the ceiling, then closed my eyes as my orgasm hit. How many times have I made love to Texas? How can each time be better than the last! I savored the sensations for a moment, before slowly lifting myself off Texas, and letting his cock slip out of me.
I turned once again to face him, and saw his cock lying flat against his lower stomach. Straddling him once more, I allowed his mostly flaccid cock to remain there, and let my slick pussy glide slowly over it as I looked into his eyes.
“Big beds are nice,” I said.
“We can stay here all night, if you want,” said a hopeful Texas.
“No,” I replied. “The man with the guitar gave us tickets, and we should use them.”
“You’re right, Amarillo.”
Texas and I cuddled on the big bed for the rest of the afternoon. Just looking at each other, kissing, and saying how much we loved each other. This was our last day together, and I could not imagine any better way to spend it.
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Chapter 2-9 – Meat Cakes
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It was time to get up and go to dinner, and then to the concert. Since it would be cold, I put on my wool sweater, then put my white tunic over top. When in the forest, the tunic by itself would keep me warm, as I was also able to draw energy from the forest. But my forest was far away, and the only energy I was able to draw was a smaller amount from the earth itself. I needed my sweater, hat, and scarf tonight.
Texas and I walked to a small pub and ordered dinner. We each got a Ringnes beer and Kjøttkaker i brun saus. Texas knew of Swedish meatballs, but I told him with national pride that Norwegian meatballs were much better. They are larger, and we call them meat cakes instead of meat balls. They are served with brown gravy instead of cream gravy. The plates arrived, the meat cakes accompanied by mushy peas, hard boiled potatoes, and lingonberry jam.
Texas took several bites before he spoke, “These are really good. I even bet people in Texas would like this, except for the green stuff.”
It was a hearty dinner, and we would need all of it, as we would be outside in the cold, dark night air at the concert.
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Chapter 2-10 – Valhalla
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There was light snow falling as we approached the amphitheater. The walkway was lined with blazing torches, the flames flicking red, orange, and yellow, reflecting off the surrounding snow. The plain white ice walls of the amphitheater that we had seen earlier now lit with green, pink, red, and purple.
“Those are the colors of the Northern Lights,” I yelped to Texas.
As we got closer, the burning torches melded into the dramatic uplighting of the smooth, glistening walls. “This must be what Valhalla looks like,” I told Texas.
After showing our tickets, the usher led us toward the front, close to the stage. Just like the walls, I was surprised to see the ice instruments lit up.
“Look at the instruments, Texas, it must be some kind of magic!”
“A wise Huldra once told me there is no such thing as magic. But they do look magical. I am guessing they have embedded small LED lights inside the instruments or attached to the outside of them.”
There was no roof on the amphitheater, and it was still snowing, so I looked up. I could not see the flakes falling until they came into the light. When they did, it looked like they magically appeared just above us. How incredible everything looked!
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Chapter 2-10 – The Coolest Concert
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After the audience was seated, the concert leader walked onto the stage, and in several languages welcomed everyone to the ‘Coolest Concert on Earth’. He went behind the xylophone, tinted with green lights, and began playing, tapping the blocks of shaped ice with just his gloved fingers. The surprising tones were crystal clear, and his melodic rhythms filled the amphitheater.
As he played, another musician walked onto the stage carrying a violin with blue lighting and began playing. Several others followed, their instruments a rainbow of color. Then a woman walked up to a microphone and began singing a haunting ethereal song in Norwegian, adding her long fairy-like notes.
Throughout the rest of the evening, musicians would enter and leave the stage, warm their fingers, then rejoin to play with others or to do solos. On some songs, two singers appeared, harmonizing with each other. The sounds were unbelievable, yet had to be believed, because they were happening. If this was the definition of something magical, then this concert truly was.
The musicians began playing another song, and their singer began singing in the old Norse language. Somehow, I remembered this song from my past. A dancer appeared, dressed in all white, and in front of the stage moved slowly and rhythmically to the music. The way she moved her arms and body was fairy-like. I could not resist, so I stood up, and joined her.
The dancer gave me a surprised look, but kept dancing as the music continued. After I repeated her last few movements, she nodded. We danced together as I mirrored her movements. The music, the singing, and the dancing, it was such fun!
When the music stopped, the audience showed their appreciation, and the leader spoke to us. He announced there was a young couple who had gotten married earlier today. He asked them to stand up, be recognized, and the audience cheered. Then, he told us there would be an intermission to allow the musicians to set up for the second half of the performance.
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Chapter 2-11 – Intermission
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Texas went to get us both a hot drink, and I walked over to the newlyweds. The bride wore a simple white dress, with a crown of dried flowers. The crown was not unlike the fresh flowers I wear in my hair during the summer. When it was my turn to greet them, I asked about the flowers.
The bride said, “You dance very well. I would have liked to have worn fresh flowers, but they are hard to find in a small town this time of year.”
I said, “Let me help!” I touched the crown of flowers, summoned nature’s energy, and restored them to back to fresh.
The surprised groom asked, “What just happened? Are you some kind of magician?”
“No, I am a Huldra.”
The surprised bride looked at me and said, “My gran would tell me stories about Huldras. I never thought they were real. Can we get a photo with you?”
“Sure,” I replied.
Just then, a female voice from behind us interrupted. I turned and saw a beautiful blonde approaching, along with a bearded man.
“You should not take her photo. I was once a Huldra. We must not let anyone prove that Huldras exist, or people will go out into the forests and try to capture us. It is not enough now that you believe?”
The bride replied, “You are right. One day, I want to tell stories of the ‘hidden folk’ to our children. If the mystery is revealed, then the magic of those stories will be lost.”
I offered my congratulations to the bride and groom, then stepped aside to let others take their turn. I was curious about the other Huldra.
I asked, “You said you were once a Huldra. How can that be?”
The other Huldra replied, “My name is Eyja, and this is my husband, Lars. I left my forest, got married, and we now live in Bergen.”
I asked her, “What about your forest? Who is watching over it?”
Eyja replied, “Does a forest not renew itself after a fire or avalanche? Does not the birch tree drop seed pods every year? I told my forest I was leaving, and it renewed itself, creating a new Huldra to replace me. Perhaps we can talk more tomorrow. Where are you staying?”
“We are staying at the Dansende Fe Hotel in town.”
“I know this place,” Eyja responded. “We are staying there as well. Let’s meet for breakfast tomorrow, say eight o’clock?”
I was curious about what Eyja had told me. “That sounds wonderful,” I replied.
As Eyja and her husband moved back to their seats, an older man approached me.
“I work for the Norwegian government in the Ministry of Climate and Environment. I’m sorry, but I overheard you talking with the bride and groom. Are you really a Huldra?”
I nodded.
“Don’t worry, your secret is safe with me. I always knew your kind existed. I have some interesting news for you.”
He told me about something the Ministry had planned, and then I asked if they might do one more thing for me, and he said he would. Just then, Texas returned with our hot drinks.
The man from the Ministry said, “Pleasure talking with you, enjoy the rest of the show.”
Texas asked me who I was speaking with, but I told him it would wait until after the show.
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Chapter 2-12 – YEE-HAW!
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Just as the musicians took the stage, the leader announced that the skies had cleared from the earlier snow showers, and the Northern Lights were visible. The house lights dimmed, and all eyes turned to the northern horizon. Using only the lights in his xylophone, he played an original composition he called, appropriately, ‘The Northern Lights’. There were tinges of purple along the edge of the swirls of green. It was not an exceptional display, but it was a good one.
After the leader finished playing, the stage lights came back up, and the musicians resumed playing. Many of the melodies were in the slower, old Norse style, which suited me fine. I doubted the ice instruments could manage a more upbeat tempo. There was a moment of humor, when several types of horns were played, each with different sounds, and it showed that bigger was not always better.
The leader then announced it was time for the finale, and they would be bringing all the musicians and singers back out, but would need a few minutes to set up.
The guitar player we met earlier spoke into his microphone. “In the audience tonight, we have a real cowboy from Texas in America. The only reason I was able to play my ice guitar tonight is because he was kind enough to help me replace a broken string. If we encourage him, I think we might be able to get him to come up on stage and sing us a country music song. Put your hands together.”
The audience began applauding, but Texas waved his hand and shook his head no. I leaned over to him and said, let’s play the Amarillo song with our special ending. Texas nodded, stood up, and we both climbed onto the stage. Texas put on the ice guitar and gave it a quick strum.
Texas spoke into the microphone. “I used to ride bulls back in Texas, and this is one of my favorite songs, because it tells the story of a rodeo cowboy who doesn’t have a lot of money, but he has what is truly important, his freedom. My life is a lot like the song, but with one big difference. The cowboy in the song lost his love, but here in Norway, I have found the women I love. Amarillo, will you marry me?”
I was stunned. Until tonight, I never thought a Huldra and a human could have a life together, because every forest needs their Huldra. But Eyja proved me wrong, and now I realize Huldras can get married and have a life with a human. Of course, I love Texas. My eyes began watering, and I blurted out, “Yes, Texas! I will marry you!”
“YEE-HAW!” yelled Texas, sending the sound technician into a panic.
I ran over to Texas, wrapped my arms around him, and hugged him. The audience erupted in applause, and flashes went off from many cell phones.
Texas announced, “Our lives and voices were once separate. Now they are together. Are you able to sing, Amarillo?”
I wiped the tears of happiness from my eyes and nodded. Texas began playing the ice guitar.
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CHAPTER 2-13 – This is Our Song
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Texas played through the melody once and the other musicians picked up the simple rhythms. They gradually joined in with their ice instruments. The sound of country music blended with ice instruments. It sounded like a fairy tale, which I suppose it was. As Texas began singing, I joined him, turning his solo into our duet. It was a symbolic moment, my voice joining his.
The technician controlling the lights added swirling multi-coloured lights on the walls all around us and the audience started swaying back and forth, holding up their lit cell phones. As we reached the end of the song, Texas looked at me. I smiled back and nodded.
We finished one final line together. “We ain’t rich, but we are free!”
Texas sang, “Amarillo by morning, in her arms is where I’ll be.”
I sang, “Amarillo by morning, in his arms is where I’ll be.”
Then I added an outro in Norwegian, singing it acapella. “Amarillo om morgenen,
I armene hans, er der jeg vil vaere.”
The crowd erupted with applause and neither Texas nor I could steady ourselves. Texas put down the heavy guitar and hugged me. Our tears flowed freely.
After Texas and I regained our composure, we returned to our seats for the finale. I smiled at Texas, then rested my head on his shoulder.
The leader announced that a full moon was rising, and that the house lights would be dimmed during the finale. He said ancient people did not have electric lights, and instead worshipped the power of the full moon. To honor them, the finale would be played under moonlight, as nature intended.
As the house lights were dimmed, the amphitheater was bathed in a silver-blue light. The dim lighting enhanced and brightened the colors of the ice instruments. The final song was called ‘Moonlight in Norway’. The finale began with a montage of highlights from earlier songs, and then the new song in tribute to the moon.
When the music ended, the leader thanked everyone for coming, and hoped they would return again next year. He said the entire amphitheater and all of the instruments will now be allowed to melt and return to the Earth. I was sad that it was over, but what better way could it have ended? Then, somehow, it got better.
The blonde singer spoke, “Attention everyone. An Old Norse wedding tradition is a torchlight procession back to the newlywed’s bed. If anyone wants to join in, grab a glass of Aquavit outside the amphitheater, and pick up one of the torches outside. Then follow the bride and groom back to the Dansende Fe Hotel!”
As the audience made their way out, Texas and I went up to the guitar player and thanked him for the opportunity. He congratulated us on our engagement, asked us to wait for a moment, then went over to the hanging chimes and removed one. He handed it to me and told me it was made from a piece of glacial ice, thousands of years old. I thanked him, removed my scarf, and wrapped the ice within it.
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Chapter 2-14 – Aquavit
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We stepped outside the amphitheater and found several people holding trays of Aquavit. Texas and I both picked up a glass, and he downed his quickly.
“No Texas, we do not drink Aquavit that way in Norway. We look into the eyes of our partner, take a small sip, and say skål. We always maintain eye contact with each other. Let’s try it together.”
Texas picked up another glass and did as I asked, then said, “I can taste a hint of caraway, almost like rye bread in spirit form, mixed with some vanilla and cumin. I use cumin when I make my Texas Red Chili. This is pretty good stuff.”
We each took another sip and then joined the procession as everyone walked back to town in the moonlight. As the bride and groom entered the hotel, Texas and I met up with Eyja and her husband.
Eyja asked, “Well, when are you two tying the knot?”
I looked at Texas and said, “How about tonight?”
He looked at me skeptically, and said, “I doubt we can find a minister or get all the paperwork done tonight.”
Eyja said, “Huldras are ancient woodland creatures, and we follow the laws and traditions of the old Norse. I can perform a handfast ceremony right here if you want.”
Texas said, “That would be fine with me.”
“I know a better place,” I replied.
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Chapter 2-15 – The Handfast
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The four of us walked over to the small park and I visited again with the Tuntre. I looked at the leaf I had made earlier, and it was still green.
The Tuntre spoke silently to me, “Two Huldras! To what do I owe this honor?”
I replied silently, “I am going to marry this man, and I could not think of any place better than to be wed under your limbs.”
Eyja spoke, “I will say everything three times. Once in Old Norse, once in modern Norwegian, and once in English.”
Eyja looked at me and asked, “Would you mind if I used your scarf?”
I unwrapped the glacial ice and set it down, then handed her my scarf. Texas and I turned to face each other, and we joined hands, right to left and left to right, creating an infinity symbol if viewed from above. She picked up the scarf and began slowly wrapping it around our hands.
“This cloth is a symbol of your love and commitment, and the bond between you. As your hands are bound together, so shall your lives be bound as one. May you forever be one, sharing all things, for all time to come. These hands will build your future together. These hands will comfort you. These hands will wipe the tears of sorrow and joy from your eyes. These hands will give you strength and support for you to pursue your dreams. Do you promise to love each other today, tomorrow, and forever?”
Texas said, “I do.”
I replied, “I do.”
Eyja continued, “If you look closely at this scarf, you will see that it is not a single color, but has small flecks of many colors. It has the binding of blue to symbolize water. The binding of green to symbolize the earth. The binding of red to symbolize fire. The binding of yellow to symbolize air. But the largest color is white, to symbolize the purity and unity of your bond.”
“You may now remove your hands from the knot. Would you like to exchange rings?”
I looked at Texas, and he was as puzzled, as I. I did not have any ring to give him, and I doubted he had brought one for me.
Texas looked down at his left hand and removed a pinky ring. “I had this ring made from the belt buckle I won on my first bull ride. It means the world to me. But not as much as you do, Amarillo. I want you to have it. This ring represents a starting point in my life, but today my life has become a circle, without beginning or end. Take this ring as a symbol of my love for you.”
He slipped the ring onto my finger, and it fit perfectly. I looked down at the musical chime made from glacial ice and had an idea. I summoned energy from nature and broke off a piece, then wrapped my hands around it. I felt heat within my hands, then cold, as nature melted away some of the ice, like a sculptor. I opened my hands and revealed a clear ring made of ice. I slipped it onto Texas’ finger.
“I take you, Texas, as my husband. I pledge to you my heart until our lives are completed. Accept this ring from me. It is a symbol of my love for you, crafted from ancient glacial ice, and like my love for you, it has never melted and never will.”
Eyja announced, “I pronounce you husband and wife, by the ancient laws given to us by the Norse gods. You may kiss the bride.”
Texas and I kissed and I have never felt happier.
The Tuntre spoke silently, “Congratulations, Huldra.”
I turned to face the tree, and replied aloud so all could hear, “I have news for you, Tuntre. I spoke with a man from the Norwegian Ministry today. The Ministry has purchased several farms on the outskirts of town, and will be planting new trees this spring, where the original forest once was.”
The Tuntre replied silently, “That is good news, Huldra. But they will be young trees, and I am so old.”
I replied, “The young trees will need the guidance of one with wisdom and experience to watch over them.”
“Perhaps you are right, Huldra. I look forward to sensing the new trees, and helping them grow.”
“I have other news, Tuntre. I asked the man from the Ministry if he could refresh your small park, with a new bench, a pedestrian crosswalk, and a sign to let people know what a Tuntre is.”
“I am honored, Huldra, and thank you.”
“We will be leaving you now, Tuntre. I will try to visit you again in the spring.”
Texas and I spoke with Eyja and her husband, and we agreed to meet for breakfast. Since they had been through this before, they offered to help me get an official identity and a marriage certificate acceptable to the Norwegian government.
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CHAPTER 2-16 – Return to Dansende Fe
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Texas and I returned to our hotel. It was quite late, and we were both very tired. We removed our clothes and laid down on the bed.
Texas said, “Norway is such a beautiful country and I really do want to see more of it. The people here are so warm and friendly. But, Amarillo, I want to take you to Texas, and show you my home. Would you be willing to go?”
I replied, “Marriage is about putting the other person first and doing things together. So, yes, once we get the necessary paperwork, I will go with you to see Texas.”
Texas smiled, “It would almost be like we are living between two countries.”
“Yes,” I replied, “We can spend the rest of our lives living in a tween place.”
I reached over and turned off the light.
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Chapter 2-17 – One Week Later
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Texas and I returned to the cabin the day after the ice concert, and have been waiting for news on the identity papers that Eyja was getting for me.
Yesterday, I went into the oldest section of my forest, thanked the trees, and let them know that I would no longer be able to serve as a warden of the forest. It was a sad day for me, until the forest let me know that life would go on for both of us. There was no great ripple or disturbance within the energy forces of the forest, as this was a natural process of renewal.
To pass time in the evening, Texas played his guitar, and we sang songs together. Then, one night, we heard a noise outside the cabin. Texas went outside to investigate.
He called to me from outside the cabin, “Hey, Amarillo! There’s a young blonde woman in a white dress dancing on our fence rails.”
I knew immediately who this was, and rushed outside. Looking up at the dancing forest spirit, I waved my hands and yelled, “SHOOOO!”
The new Huldra looked down at me, swished her cow’s tail, and jumped off the fence railings in a huff. I smiled as she ran off into the night, knowing that my forest would be well cared for.
THE END
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AUTHOR’S NOTES
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If you enjoyed this story, please consider voting or leaving a comment. Those two things are the food for a writer’s imagination.
Ice Music festivals are real events, and can be found in Norway, Sweden, Colorado, and a few other places. Terje Isungset is a well-known ice musician in Norway, and Tim Linhart shares time between Sweden and Colorado. Some venues even build concert halls from large igloos with seating inside to help control the temperature. You can hear ice instruments and learn more about them on Youtube videos. The ice concert portrayed in this story is an amalgamation of many such concerts, is not intended to represent any single venue or person or event.
There is an interesting video on Youtube called “Cloudberries” by Ste van Holm. Sung in English, it shows a Huldra walking through the forest in the different seasons. One of the scenes has the Huldra breathing on a tree bud and turning it into a leaf, just like in my story.
This concludes the story of Amarillo and Texas. I have never been to Texas, and considered writing “A Huldra in Texas”, but don’t really have enough details to flesh out a full story about what Amarillo would encounter, so I will stop here. If you want to learn more about Huldras, just come to Norway and search for one!