Date: Tue, 6 Jan 2015 11:25:16 -0500
From: George Gauthier <georgegauthierdc@gmail.com>
Subject: Elf-Boy's Friends 5

			Elf-Boy's Friends 5
			The Far West Part I of V
 			by George Gauthier

[The further adventures of characters from the novel 'Elf-Boy and Friends']

			Chapter 1. Drew

"Pardon me, Sir Giant. Could you direct me to the Wayfarers' Inn?"

The huge townsman peered quizzically at his diminutive interlocutor.

"Hmm, I did hear that Old Arn had a notion to hire another human wine boy
to serve drinks and to entertain his customers upstairs. I suppose you
might be him, small though you are."

"What makes you think I'm a wine boy?"

"Well, for one thing, here you are running around town stark naked. Not
that I object, mind you, quite the contrary. You are a cute little thing
for sure, but while casual public nudity may be common practice for youths
in the Commonwealth proper, out here on the frontier and in a town
inhabited mostly by Frost Giants it is not. And even dusty and sweaty as
you are, I can see that your sexy little body is bronzed everywhere from
the constant kiss of the sun, as such bare-assed boys are wont to be from
almost constant exposure."

"In both senses of that word." he added smiling.

"Also your skin is utterly smooth -- with nary a feather anywhere -- not
even at the fork of your legs, no doubt thanks to application of a
depilatory compounded by elven alchemists. Throw in that impossibly cute
face of yours with its fine-boned features and the sum of it is that you
are likely a rent boy and a supremely desirable one at that. You certainly
appeal to me. What do you say that once you get settled in, I call on you
at Arn's place? Uh, and if I have jumped to the wrong conclusion about you,
no offense pretty one."

"None taken, Sir Giant. Actually I get that a lot from strangers, so it's
hardly a surprise anymore. I am acutely aware that with my slight build,
androgynous look, and glabrous skin, I fall considerably short of normal
male standards in height, muscular development, and secondary sexual
characteristics like beard, body hair, and voice register. And that goes
double around Frost Giants."

"But no, I am not a rent boy, nor even a boy anymore, not really. Despite
appearances I am of age and as fully grown as I will ever be. I realize
that I look to be no more than sixteen, but I am actually in my early
twenties. And though at home I am entitled to wear a genital pouch or even
a breechclout, I prefer total nudity day in and day out, except when on a
work assignment."

"A work assignment, eh. What sort of work would that be, young one? From my
years in the Commonwealth, I know that most young humans strip before
sweaty work if they aren't already naked to begin with. They don't dress
for work."

"That is true, but in my case I work with my head not my hands. I am a
journalist, a correspondent for the Capital Intelligencer, the most
prominent news-paper in the Commonwealth, My byline is Drew Altair and my
beat is national news and special features. When on assignment as a
journalist, I always don a tunic for interviews and public events. Sober
garb helps me be taken by my interlocutors as a serious journalist rather
than be dismissed as a nosy bare-assed kid who asks too many questions."

"And for your information, I arrived in town just this afternoon, which is
why I am all hot and sweaty and dusty and in the nude. You see, I made the
entire journey on foot, alternately running, loping, trotting, and walking
the whole way, leading a pony with my gear."

"That must have taken weeks. All that exertion explains the sculpted
musculature on your wiry physique. Your stamina must be well above normal
too."

"I expect it is. Anyway all my gear is back at the stable on the outskirts
of town where I left my pony. You giants won't allow beasts of burden
within the town's walls."

"Right you are about that. As you know, we giants are not equestrians. Our
bodies are too large and heavy for a horse or mule. No, in town all hauling
must be done with the ubiquitous hand carts you see around you, something
easy enough for us giants, given our size and strength. Plus there is no
mess or smell from animal droppings. Much better that way."

"I agree completely. I am quite impressed that you have already paved the
streets with well-set flat stones even though your town of Flensborg is
less than five years old."

The giant nodded.

"The paving lets carts roll freely, and they never get stuck in mud. They
don't make much noise either with those new-fangled rubber tires on the
wheels. We Frost Giants are a neat and orderly people, a trait we share
with you humans of the Commonwealth and also the elves."

"Yes, I can see that. And the way to Old Arn's, if I may remind you, sir?"

"Yes, well his place lies just down the street and around the corner. I am
heading that way myself so you can tag along with me, but I have to warn
you that his inn caters to Frost Giants. The rooms and furniture are sized
for patrons eight or nine feet tall, not for an undersized human boy. Why
you can't stand more than five feet (152 cm), and I doubt you carry more
than a hundred pounds on your slight frame."

"You have a keen eye and have my measure exactly. But no problem. Old Arn
has set up a room sized for humans. You see, Arn is expecting me. We are
old friends and comrades in arms during the recent war. I am proud to say
that I fought at the Battle of the Ravine and stood with Old Arn and Young
Finn in the Breach."

Wiping dust away, Drew turned his left shoulder to display the small blue
tattoo which marked him as a Giant Friend, one to whom all giants would
automatically extend their hospitality and protection. He had earned it
helping Arn and Finn hold the breach against the centaurs till others
rallied to them.

"Of course! You would be that Brave Little Fetcher who fought with us
giants during the war against the centaurs. Your exploits at the Battle of
the Ravine have been immortalized in paintings at Arn's inn which show you
wielding those small steel spheres of yours against the centaurs, smashing
their heads and splashing their brains all around."

Fetchers were those blessed with the magical gift of telekinesis and are
able to move things by thought alone. Strong Fetchers like Drew could Lift
or even Throw a man-high boulder without strain. In combat Drew wielded a
pair of steel spheres about the size of a peach, sending them careening at
and often right through his foes. Since they were so light, he could keep
it up for hours.

Most members of intelligent races on the planet of Haven had one or two
magical gifts such as Calling Light, Healing, a Green Thumb, or an Unerring
Directional Sense. Other gifts such as Mind Speech, Fetching, and
Firecasting were less common. The rarest gift of all was ability to wield
many sorts of magic. That was the gift shared by war wizards and druids
alike, despite their very different approaches to the magical arts.

The giant added:

"Understand, I myself didn't arrive here till the year after the conquest
of New Varangia. Still everyone has heard the stories and seen the
paintings at Arn's place. Welcome then young Drew Altair. Anything you
need, just call on me. My name is Ragnar Svenson, I run a shipping line on
the river from premises down by the docks. My place is easy to find. Just
ask anyone down that way."

The oddly matched pair walked the few blocks to Arn's place of business,
the Wayfarers' Inn, which was located on a sunny square with a public
fountain in the middle. Awnings and newly-planted trees shaded the
entrances to the shops and taverns that lined the square including the
two-storey building with a sign proclaiming it the Wayfarers' Inn.

"There's your destination, young Altair. My own business takes me farther
down this street. Good day to you."

"And to you Ragnar Svenson."

When Drew entered the Wayfarers' inn through the wide open double doors,
the buzz of conversation faltered as all eyes turned toward the
newcomer. The common room was full of giants, all of them in a genial mood
and plainly dressed in linen or silk trews and shirts. The faces of the
patrons were friendly enough though most registered surprise at the
appearance of a small, nude, and impossibly comely human youth in their
favorite tavern. Others leered at him, obviously taking him for the new
wine boy they had heard about.

"I'd pay a whole silver for a tumble with this new lad," one giant bragged
to his drinking companions. "I've never seen a prettier youth."

"Yes you have, Donnar," Arn's deep voice growled as he walked up to the
front. "Actually you've admired his image often enough," the proprietor
added pointing up to the dramatic paintings hung on the walls.

The series of paintings portrayed the Battle at the Ravine between the
Frost Giants and the centaurs, carnivorous alien monsters with six limbs
that resembled a cross between an insect and a reptile, if such a thing can
be imagined. During the battle, the press of the centaur attack opened a
breach in the shield wall of the Frost Giants. Had they broken through in
strength, their horde would have turned both flanks of the line held by the
giants and rolled it up.

At that crucial moment Arn and his protege Finn Ragnarson surged forward
using their shields and bodies to block the centaurs. Wielding their twelve
foot spears they stabbed and slashed at their enemies for all they were
worth. The pair held the breach long enough for others to rally to
them. Their stand went down in history as that of "Old Arn and Young Finn
in the Breach".

A series of three dramatic paintings portrayed the action. In the first
picture, giants and centaurs in the front line go down in a tangle of
flailing limbs and weapons, opening the breach. In the second picture Arn
and Finn fight alone in the breach, holding back the centaurs by sheer
courage and ferocity. The blades of their spears decapitate and eviscerate
their enemies as a reserve force of giants rallies to them.

Drew has taken a position directly behind Arn and Finn and stands in the
path of the centaur breakthrough. He wields his steel spheres with an
unusual up and down or 'pile driver' motion to prevent potential fratricide
among his allies. The motions of his fists help him concentrate as he
smashes the death-dealing spheres through the bodies of the centaurs and
into the ground only to raise them high again for the next strike.

Just behind the end of the shield wall and up the slope of the ravine, two
splendid human youths send arrow after arrow over the shield wall to pick
off the unit commanders of the centaurs, identifiable by the insignia
painted on their chitinous armor, throwing their attack into confusion.

In the final picture, Drew goes back to controlling the flight of his
spheres with his trademark 'shadow boxing' technique, sending them whirling
through the heads and upper torsos of the foul creatures.

"Now that you mention it Arn, I can't see how I failed to recognize the
lad. How many times have I sat here practically drooling as I fantasized
about making love to that exquisite boy whom the artist, sensible of his
audience, portrayed in the nude, historically inaccurate though it is. Uh,
sorry Sir Drew Altair for my boorishness just now."

"Don't mention it. If anything I am flattered by your devotion, if I may
call it that," Drew replied with a wink, drawing a chuckle from the Frost
Giants. "And I am no knight but merely a lowly reserve ensign in Army of
the Commonwealth of the Long River."

Old Arn smiled and drew the boy into a warm embrace then set him atop a
table, then formally introduced him to his customers. Pointing to Drew's
tattoo, he reminded the giants that, for his heroism, Drew had been
declared a Giant Friend, a very rare honor indeed.

Picking up on that cue, Drew observed that the reason it was such a rare
honor was that Frost Giants were so big and strong and tough that they
could usually take care of themselves and seldom needed anyone else's
help. That drew nods and murmurs of 'Hear, Hear' from Arn's clientele.

"I've sent for Finn. He's at work over at his lumber yard down by the
docks." Arn told his young friend. "It's a new venture since you were last
in New Varangia. He and his brother also own a sawmill and timber lands
upriver which supply the cut lumber. Finn is doing quite well for himself
these days."

"You must be doing all right yourself, Arn. This is quite a place you have
here with a large taproom, a restaurant for sit-down dining, plus lodgings
for travelers through a connecting door."

"And a brewery over by the river." Arn added.

"I hear your wine boys entertain guests upstairs. I mention it only because
twice now I have been taken for your new wine boy."

"Which is only natural given that pretty face of yours and that trim and
taut body which you habitually put totally on display. You are a vision of
youthful male pulchritude, if I may wax poetic. Of course, the Wayfarers'
Inn is a full-service sort of place. So naturally we offer cute boys of
both races. Of course. though we ourselves don't offer female
companionship, we do point the way to establishments across the square
where girls are available."

			Chapter 2. Finn

Just then Finn Ragnarson showed up.

The young giant had hardly changed in the few years since his first
appearance in the Commonwealth, but then those of his race can live for
nearly a thousand years and really show their age only near the end of
their lives. So Finn was still the apple-cheeked young male Drew had met
four years earlier just after the conclusion of the Long March of the Frost
Giants. No older than Drew, Finn was very much a youngster by giants'
reckoning and still growing. He now stood a few fingers less than seven
feet and was powerfully built under his green silk shirt and trews. Finn's
boyishly handsome face featured a straight nose and firm chin, graced by
grey eyes, all framed by a tousled thatch of dark hair.

"Finn!" Drew exclaimed happily then threw himself into Finn's arms. The
young giant picked the boy up and hugged him close. They kissed
passionately; Drew's slender legs circled Finn's waist, displaying his
shapely bum to advantage.

"Hey, get a room!" Donnar called out.

"I can arrange that!", Arn interjected jocularly.

The young lovers broke their clinch and grinned sheepishly at the crowd.

"I see time has not weakened the bond of affection between you too," Arn
added indulgently. "But you know Drew, I think Finn would like to have you
all squeaky clean when he takes you to bed. Why don't you show him the
washroom. Finn. You know the way."

"You'll probably want to wash the sweat and sawdust off yourself as well."
Arn suggested with a broad wink, adding helpfully: "I'll see that no one
barges in on you."

Finn and Drew adjourned to the washroom and quickly turned it into their
playroom, soaping down, scrubbing each other's backs, touching each other
in naughty ways, turning their bath into foreplay. At one point Finn yanked
Drew's legs toward him, smiling evilly as his young lover's head sank below
the sudsy surface of the tub water. Drew came up for air, spouting soapy
water, eyes blazing as he used his gift to hurl sopping sponges at Finn's
face.

"Hey! No powers!" the giant complained, which Drew countered with:

"Oh? Don't you Frost Giants owe your size and strength to your magical
origins? If that isn't a power, then what is?", punctuating his
pronouncement with a emphatic nod of his head. The boy then used both hands
to splash sudsy water in Finn's face, as further physical punctuation for
his retort.

Drew made no protest though as a smiling Finn drew them into an embrace and
kissed him.

Finn loved to hold Drew's small slick body in his arms as he kissed him and
stroked and petted his arms, chest, and back and squeezed his butt
cheeks. He could never get enough of that delightful little body. Still, a
degree of payback for the flung sponges was in order.

Finn turned the boy belly-down over the rim of the tub and delivered
playful slaps to the rump which produced pitiful wails from the auburn
haired boy. Drew's arms flailed and his slender legs kicked and splashed
ineffectually as he pretended he was trying to escape his captor.

"Shameless boy! Not only are you prancing around our town without a stitch
and nary a feather on you anywhere, not even at the fork of your legs. You
declare yourself proud to have run the roads all the way from the capital
in that same state of total nudity, exhibiting yourself to who knows how
many hundreds of fellow travelers!"

Finn added a couple more smack for emphasis, then leaned back to admire the
reddish blush his ministrations had brought to the smaller male's pert
rump.

In truth, Drew craved light spankings and trash talk. Scenes where a
dominant male took charge of him and had his way with him turned Drew on
unbearably. He was a young male totally oriented to his own gender as a
bottom boy. The human youth was a natural submissive, one who long ago
realized that he was a boy born to be fucked hard and often and by males
who knew how. He couldn't wait for Finn to really get down to business and
impale him on his prodigious member. His quim needed to be filled. It had
been far too long.

Drew just loved Finn's body. Finn was so huge and strong and manly, just
what a bottom boy like him craved. The young giant abruptly got to his feet
and pulled his lover up with him and clambered out of the tub. It was time
to make love and Drew liked to do that standing up. With Drew's legs bent
upward, Finn lifted the boy high enough for Drew to throw his ankles over
Finn's shoulders while the back of his thighs were pressed to Finn's
chest. The giant supported Drew's slight weight on his arms -- at least
till he got the boy settled on his cock. Slipping it inside was awkward
since Drew couldn't easily reach back there to guide him in. They took it
slowly and carefully, especially since Finn had grown since the first time
he had taken Drew.

For such a big guy Finn was a gentle lover. He did not batter his way
inside but let Drew set the pace and the degree of penetration. Drew also
did some of the work himself, lifting his body, letting it fall back onto
the cock inside him, basically fucking himself, though Finn helped with his
arms raising and lowering Drew bodily. It wasn't long before Finn climaxed
in Drew's ass, his big frame shuddering with the force of his
release. While he did go a little weak in the knees, he didn't let go of
his young lover or drop him to the floor.

The pair rinsed off and toweled down then made their way in the nude up the
back stairway to the room Arn had reserved for the young
journalist. Although the chair and table were sized for humans, the bed was
large enough for a pair of giants, so plenty of room for the mis-matched
couple.

Finn put Drew down on all fours and covered the boy like a stallion does a
filly. His hand played with Drew's own cock, stroking and pumping and
sliding the foreskin back and forth, thumbing its sweet spot, making the
smaller male shudder with desire until he came explosively, which set Finn
to coming in a chain reaction as the muscles of Drew's quim contracted
spasmodically, squeezing the cock that was inside him and sending its owner
into orgasm as well.

As the afternoon wore on the pair alternately made loved and talked,
catching up on their lives since Finn's last visit to the capital.

Finn described how he and his brother has gotten started in
business. Finn's brother Holgar, a later immigrant to New Varangia,
provided the expertise in timbering. Finn provided the capital, drawing on
a government grant given to veterans of the Second Centaur War, as the
conquest of New Varangia had come to be called. Years earlier the pay chest
of an entire barbarian army had fallen into the hands of the Frost
Giants. The government of New Varangia would stake any citizen-veteran who
had a plausible scheme for setting up a business or start a farm. Veterans
had earned these stakes with their blood.

For his part, Drew told of his career as a journalist for the Capital
Intelligencer, as editor of a monthly newsletter, the Transactions of the
Confraternities of the Gifted, and as a celebrated author of best-selling
books. His first book told the saga of the Long March of the Frost Giants
and the Centaur Wars. His second book covered the Wars of the Plains
against the eastern barbarians. Both had won coveted Writer's Prizes,
awarded annually for the best work in several categories. The first book
won in the category of journalism, based as it was mainly on interviews of
participants. The second won the prize for history. Drew had spent long
hours in the archives in the capital, studying campaign and battle plans,
tactical orders, after action reports, citations for decorations awarded to
soldiers, and the like.

Drew also spoke of his adventures when called into service by the
Commonwealth government. The young journalist held a commission in the
Commonwealth army reserve as an ensign. He had helped free victims of an
earthquake, lifting heavy wood beams, stonework, and piles of bricks and
debris to rescue victims trapped under the rubble of their homes, shops,
schools, or bureaux. More recently he had helped with rescue work during a
flood on one of the Long River's main tributaries. Drew used his gift to
propel his skiff much faster than it could be rowed and through channels
too narrow for oarsmen. He plucked people and their pets trapped by rising
waters from roofs and trees and set them down in the skiff with him.

That evening a boy brought supper up to them on a tray and removed it
afterwards. It wasn't till the next morning that the young lovers went down
together for breakfast in the restaurant. Finn simply sat on a short bench
on one side of the square table. Drew had to sit on a pair of cushions set
atop a second bench. Finn's eyes glittered with mischief as he opened his
mouth to comment on the arrangement, but he subsided under Drew's glare,
contenting himself with a grin.

Arn greeted them and sat down with them to talk.

"Now Drew, your letter was a little vague about the purpose of your
trip..." He left the rest hanging.

"True enough, Arn. The fact is that I am vague about it myself. Ostensibly
I am here to write a series of articles, following up my earlier reporting
about the conquest and taming of this second homeland for the Frost
Giants. In actual fact my commission in the reserves has been activated and
I am here on a mission so secret, even I don't know what it is. I expect
though that all will be explained when the twins get here."

"So Jemsen and Karel are on the way, are they?"

"Yes, they should arrive any day now. Meanwhile I will have the chance to
get around, talk to folks, find out what's been happening, and write about
it. Draw sketches too. And of course, spend time with Finn getting
reacquainted."

"Oh, is that what you call it?" Arn asked chuckling and ruffling Drew's
auburn locks with a massive paw.

			Chapter 3. The Twins

The twins arrived by coach eight days later, finding Arn's place with no
trouble at all thanks to a map of the town and their magical gift of
Unerring Direction.

Of fully human stock, medium height, blond, slender, and incredibly cute,
Jemsen and Karel were identical twins, young palomino colts whose
well-defined wiry musculature evidenced the high level of fitness the boys
maintained from running and swimming and drawing their heavy bows. The boys
were blessed with fine-boned faces, their heads crowned with cornsilk blond
hair. Although young men in their late twenties, the twins looked like
teenage boys a decade younger thanks to their parentage and to the
druidical healing magic that would let them live for half a millennium or
more and keep them perpetually young. The scrumptious blond beauties
practically glowed with vitality. The effect was incredibly sexy.

The colorful sarongs wrapped around their hips helped folks distinguish one
twin from the other. Jemsen always wore green and Karel blue on those
occasions when they bothered with clothing. Usually Jemsen and Karel went
about skin-clad -- like their friends the elves. Years earlier, when they
were only fifteen, the twins had fought slavers to rescue a party of
elves. After doing what they could about the wounds the elves had taken,
the twins got them home to their enchanted vale. The elves adopted the
human boys into the tribe, incising a small blue tattoo on their left
shoulders to mark them as a Elf-Friends, persons to whom all elves would
automatically extend their hospitality and protection.

The boys lived with the elves for several months adopting their clothing
free life-style as well as their preference for same gender sexual
relations. Since that time, over further adventures, the twins had become
Dwarf-Friends and Giant-Friends as well, the only living humans to be so
honored.

The vitality conferred on them by druidical magic had strengthened the
twins' resistance to disease and their ability to heal wounds and
injuries. It also doubled their physical strength and stamina, quickened
their reflexes, and sharpened their senses. The twins had been the very
first to benefit from the new technique developed by their friend, the
elf-boy and druid Dahlderon and his fellow druids and lovers Meirionnydd
and Owain.

Drew was a later beneficiary, one of thirty citizens of the Commonwealth
blessed with magical gifts of Fetching or Firecasting who were selected for
the treatment in return for service when required. They all held reserve
commissions as ensigns which would be activated when they were called up.

The twins had served in the military as scouts during the Second Plains
War. For their exemplary service they had been decorated with the coveted
Military Cross for Valor. They had also taken part in important missions
for the Commonwealth, in earlier years with their mentor Balandur, one of
the Dread Hands of the Commonwealth. More recently they had shared
adventures with the young Hand, Artor Klarendes, a powerful firecaster in
his own right.

The four of them: Finn, Drew, Jemsen, and Karel, all of them each other's
lovers as well as sometime comrades in arms, hugged and kissed
demonstratively.

"Get a room!" a voice called out.

"Already got one!" Drew retorted.

Jemsen smiled then said:

"Let's all go up to your room where we can talk in private. And I do mean
talk. That includes you Arn."

Upstairs Jemsen and Karel bounced on the big bed experimentally and
grinned, thinking of what was in store for later. First things first
though. Time for serious talk.

Jemsen explained that their new mission was to journey to the Far West of
the continent where the Commonwealth had been engaged for several years in
a major strategic campaign to head off the expansion of an aggressive
military power, the Despotate of Dzungaria. The Commonwealth had no
intention of allowing any state on the continent of Valentia to become its
military peer and a potential challenger.

Seeking its protection, the fragmented polities of the region: princedoms,
city states, maritime republics, and tribal confederations, had already
petitioned the Commonwealth for annexation, but they were far from ready
for that whether socially, politically or militarily. Also their transport
and communications links were far from adequate. Maps ranged in quality
from poor to non-existent especially for those states closer to the
aggressor.

That was where Jemsen and Karel came in. Their magical gift was that of
Unerring Direction. They could sense the azimuth and elevation to any place
they had ever been to or could see from afar, a great advantage for
military scouts or the hunters they had originally been. They were also
gifted cartographers. Indeed for their signal achievement in inventing
contour lines to show elevation on maps they had been knighted by the
governing council and also inducted as masters in the Honorable Guild of
Cartographers, without ever having been apprentices or journeymen.

The twins's mission was to surreptitiously map those largely unknown lands
without using normal mapping techniques, a time consuming process which
relied on stakes, chains, and precision instruments. Only persons with
their magical gift could map terrain unobtrusively. The pair would traverse
those foreign lands on foot, relying on their magical gift to triangulate
the landscape, filling their notebooks with annotations about azimuths and
angles of elevation plus readings from a box barometer (for altitude), plus
terrain sketches, all of which they could later use to construct regular
maps.

The mission might turn dangerous given the unsettled conditions in those
lands. Stout fighters though they were with their bows, quarterstaffs, and
bent-bladed kukris, even the twins needed protection. Serious firepower
might be needed. Unfortunately, their young friend and ally Artor Klarendes
could not be spared for a mission which might easily last six months. So
Drew Altair got activated.

Drew's gift was powerful enough to shift a house off its foundations, to
throw an aurochs through the air, or to topple a fortified tower. Like a
fox, he had many tricks or techniques for using his gift to counter
threats: he could wield steel spheres with deadly effect or Fetch weapons
out of the hands of attackers or even yank their eyeballs out of their
sockets. Thanks to the twins, Drew was well trained in the use of the
kukri, the ideal blade for close-in fighting, and in unarmed
combat. Non-magical fighting skills might come in handy in situations where
Drew would not want to reveal his powers.

"Well you not going off without me." Finn declared. "I been hankering for
another adventure with you guys. My brother is the businessman in the
family anyway. He can handle things at the lumber yard while I am gone."

During the Long March of the Frost Giants, the twins had scouted ahead of
the column of giants with Finn with them out in front for protection. The
three could tell tales about close encounters with tawny panthers and slash
bears. Later, the four young males had all fought together at the Battle of
the Ravine.

"Thanks, Finn. Your size and strength will serve all our party as a
deterrent to aggression or violence. For all his deadly powers, our friend
Drew here is so short and slight of build and so pretty he looks completely
harmless, your basic bare-assed boy toy." Jemsen said.

"I'll take that as a compliment!" Drew asserted airily.

"Well I hope you don't expect me to go traipsing off into the wilds,
younglings. These old bones are going to stay right here. And a word of
advice, Finn, based on life experience. Every time you give in to a
hankering for adventure, it becomes that much harder to say no the next
time."

Finn nodded. "That's good advice, Arn, but it really is time for another
adventure with my friends."

"I am sure you've had all sorts of adventures in your day, Arn. No one
expects you to come along for this one." Jemsen assured him. "No, what we
need from you is the supplies we wrote to you about."

"Already collected and waiting in the storeroom for you. And everything was
procured unobtrusively, so folks wouldn't wonder what I needed such gear
for. I got good prices too and saved you some money. You boys have a refund
coming from that bank draft you sent me."

"Thanks Arn. I knew we could count on you." Karel said, then with an
expansive wave of his arm and a mischievous twinkle in his eyes, added:
"Oh, and you can keep the change!".

He ducked to avoid Arn's retaliatory cuff to the head.

"Young whippersnapper!" Arn growled good-naturedly. "By rights, I should
turn you over my knee and tan your bottom."

"No, that would be just wasted on Karel. For a boy who really gets turned
on by that sort of thing, you'll want little Drew over there." Finn
interjected, pointing at his auburn-haired lover.

"Hey!"

That night, Finn bowed out temporarily to let the twins and Drew "get
reacquainted". Actually they were acquainted well enough for Drew to tell
the identical twins apart not just by their appearance but also by their
lovemaking.

For his part Drew was glad to have the twins take him to their bed. Early
on he had tried females and found that it was so much better making love
with a boy. Girls are soft and round and jiggly. Boys have hard bodies, all
muscle and bone and sinew and cock. Nothing is better than to wrestle a boy
in bed, grappling with his strong body, so much like your own, to join with
him in a passionate embrace, also known as a hard fuck.

Also a boy gives head so much better than a girl. He knows cock better than
any female ever could. Drew looked so damn cute when he knelt in front of a
twin, all submissive like, hands along his flanks, using just his tongue
and his lips on the cock of the male he was worshiping.

Drew never had to work to arouse either of the twins down there. With him
their cocks sprang into action, hard even as the young auburn-haired beauty
sank to his knees. Drew always started with a kiss on the head of the cock
he was servicing, a light peck at first, then a smooch. Then his tongue
went to work, twirling around the glans, poking the tip into the piss slit,
tapping the knob with little flicks with the tip of his own tongue, often
targeting the sweet spot.

Karel liked him to open his mouth and take just the head in and let it rest
there for a minute, to let it get used to the sensations of moisture and
warmth, to let the shaft feel his pouty lips close around it possessively,
proprietarily. Jemsen liked to slide farther back initially, but he never
forced his thrusts.

Drew loved it when the twins double teamed him, putting him on all fours
and thrusting their shafts into both his orifices at the same time. Drew
loved cock and for him this was the best way to enjoy it. Plugged at both
ends, his small body rocking back and forth from the thrust of the twins'
hips, Drew became the plaything, the boy-toy of dominant males who used him
as boys of his sort were meant to be used.

Their evening together was a celebration of unbridled youthful lust, sexy
kids sparking off other cute guys their own age, romping, stomping, and
rocking, their surging hormones rising in a crescendo of eroticism and
spunk.

Before the druids had changed him, Drew had been quite the social
butterfly, a boy in a hurry, aware of how fleeting his youth would be. His
mantra then had been: So many boys; so little time. These days his mantra
was more like: So many boys; so much time for them now.

			Chapter 4. Making Plans

The next day, all five of them sat down together to breakfast the twins
sitting directly on the bench with Drew sandwiched between them. Thanks to
their slender builds there was just enough space for the three of them on a
short bench intended for a single giant, though their proximity left the
twins pressing their nude flanks against the boy in the middle. But that
suited Drew and the twins just fine. They welcomed tactile contact with
cute guys any way they could get it. And if the table was rather too high
for convenience, so be it.

"What is that light scent?" Arn wondered, sniffing.

"Rose water", Karel replied. "We splashed some on after our morning
ablutions." the blond boy explained. "And if that makes us smell like one
of your rent boys, so be it. After all, as I have admitted on more than one
occasion, been there, done that," he remarked with an unrepentant toss of
his head.

Drew smiled then popped his own question:

"What do we do about transportation to the West? Are we traveling all that
way on foot? Why not ride or take a coach. You twins took the mail coach
from the capital, didn't you? I wish you had invited me to come along with
you."

"No need for hurt feelings on that score, Drew,"Jemsen assured him. "All
that running we had you do was to build your stamina, just as we told
you. Also to indulge your exhibitionist streak too. Karel and I remembered
how you envied us for traveling in the rude nude for months on end when we
made the Long March with the Frost Giants. So we gave you your own chance
to do much the same."

"Anyway, to maintain the highest levels of fitness, all three of us will be
running much of the way. Bare-assed of course. Barefoot too, the way we
usually do thanks to horny calluses that protect our feet as effectively as
moccasins. We will take off on foot down the road early each morning, let
the coach catch up, then hop on. The coach will transport our clothing,
weapons, and other gear."

"I am fine with that coach transporting me too."  Finn asserted. "I don't
need that kind of exercise. I am in fine shape, thank you, what with all
the tramping about the woods I've been doing to select stands of trees or
particular ones for felling. I didn't get these broad shoulders only from
working at the forge, wielding a hammer. These days I also swing an axe as
a lumberjack. Though I no longer to earn my bread as a blacksmith I do fire
up the forge once or twice a ten-day to repair or replace metal parts of
the sawmill mechanism and fittings for wagons, bang out crampons the jacks
use to climb trees, and that sort of thing."

With a smile on his face, he added:

"So no thanks to all that walking and running you have planned. No, best I
ride in the coach and thereby husband my strength, as it were, for the
trials that no doubt lie ahead." Finn claimed deadpan. Then added:

"Now I don't want to come across as mercenary, but it would only be fair
for the Commonwealth to cover our expenses. It's not that I really need the
money; it is the principle of the thing. I am in business now, after all."

"You can count on expenses plus a salary that will match what our little
red-haired friend here earns as a reserve ensign in the army."

"As much as that! Don't spend it all in one place, Finn." Drew warned
sarcastically. Then added:

"Actually I am getting paid twice for the same job. Thanks to the
generosity of my publisher, I will continue to collect my salary as a
reporter for the Capital Intelligencer while gathering material for
articles to be published later."

"His publisher is his father." Karel reminded Arn.

"OK we run or take a coach to Lord Zaldor and General Urgaart at their
headquarters. How do we travel from there?" Drew asked the twins.

"It's Marshal Urquaart now. Our old friend now commands both the
Commonwealth and Allied military forces in the region." Karel noted.

"Fine, what about it?" Drew persisted.

Jemsen responded.

"We will take a pony to carry our gear. Our travels around the Far West
will be made on foot, walking and running while leading the animal."

Finn wondered:

"Why travel the slow way? With my long legs, even at a walk I could keep up
with a trotting horse."

"Who said anything about going slow?" Jemsen replied shaking his
head. "Remember, our strength and stamina is at least double the norm
thanks to our magically enhanced vitality. Any of the three of us can run
all day long and keep that pace day after day. If anything slows us down it
will be the pony packing our gear. Besides, we cannot very well keep a pace
count from atop a horse, now can we?"

"Without horses we will be less conspicuous, something not very easy to
achieve for humans as memorable as we three are. I say this with no false
modesty, you understand. Toss in a Frost Giant and three mounts or maybe
six with remounts, well you see the problem. Also we will often be passing
through rough country, which is fine for sure-footed pack animals but you
wouldn't want to be perched atop a mount. Which reminds me, are you any
good at climbing, Finn?"

"I can clamber up hills or scale cliffs or rocks given decent hand and foot
holds. We do a lot of climbing in the mountains of the old country. I know
all three of you have made a sport or game of climbing walls and towers and
structures in towns and taking to the rooftops. In forests you can take to
the trees to throw off pursuit. All of that is quite beyond me."

"Fair enough. I expect you will get back to mountain climbing as this
mission progresses. Drew you wrote us that you had developed new climbing
techniques?"

"Actually, it wasn't me but a Fetcher who lives in the Eastern
Mountains. He sent a contribution in to my newsletter, the Transactions of
the Confraternities of the Gifted."

"Not a very catchy title." Arn murmured.

"Be that as it may, Arn, this Fetcher is a natural philosopher who is
surveying mineral deposits and the geological structure of the
mountains. For easier access to uplifted strata he threads ropes through
holes in special spikes called pitons, then raises them high and drives
them into the rock face. Easy enough then to haul himself up by main
strength or with a pair of pulleys for mechanical advantage. You see, for a
Fetcher it is simple to lift gear or supplies or these ropes and pitons. We
just invoke our gift. The one thing we Fetchers cannot Lift is our own
bodies. No one knows why. Nothing happens when we turn our gift on
ourselves."

"Another thing." Jemsen added. "Clothing. Public nudity is less usual in
the Far West especially in the larger towns and cites where nudity taboos
linger from the old days maybe because folks live packed closer together
than in the countryside and so many of the people one meets on the street
are strangers. Except for nudity in exercise and sports, prancing around as
we usually do in the rude nude would get us taken for country bumpkins,
peasants stripped off for sweaty work in the fields and too poor for more
than one set of clothing."

"Or, with your epicene looks, you three would be taken for rent boys out on
the streets trolling for custom." Arn observed.

Drew shook his head.

"Only a single set of clothes! I didn't know that such poverty existed
anywhere on Valentia except among the eastern barbarians. Not with the
price of cloth so much lower than in the past thanks to advances in the
mechanical arts and the switch from cottage industry to central
manufactories."

Karel explained the situation.

"Jemsen and I had a chance to read Lord Zaldor's reports. The Far West is
economically, politically, and socially backward. The region is a congeries
of political units of all types. Oligarchies control most city-states
except for a couple of the maritime republics. More than a few
principalities are ruled by haughty and in-bred aristocracies of the blood,
allowing little room for men of talent and enterprise to rise to the
top. Their societies are handicapped by rigid social and political
hierarchies."

"There are even a couple of theocracies, ruled by priests who claim to
speak for their gods. In one of them the chief deity is an earth
goddess. Procreation is their chief sacrament. Fertility and fecundity the
chief virtues."

"Sounds daft but harmless," Drew observed.

"Not exactly. Same gender sex is deemed unnatural because it is sterile,
hence both sinful and criminal. In other places slavery is still legal. In
most areas, peasants are serfs owing feudal obligations to landowners. The
directorate which rules the single strongest state out there calls its
realm the Despotate of Dzungaria. It has risen to power by fomenting
revolutions in no less than five formerly separate states which it has
absorbed."

The next day Jemsen and Drew arranged for exclusive service by mail coach
for just the four adventurers. It would leave the next day. Drew wrote a
short letter to his father, letting him know of their plans.

Before the twins showed up, Drew had gone on walkabout both in town and in
the country wearing one of his trademark sleeveless tunics made of white
silk. In town he visited the docks, the shipyards, the central market, the
monument to the fallen during the Second Centaur War, the fort built next
to the town, and other points of interest.

Everywhere he went Drew was recognized. The arrival of the famous blond
twins and the plucky young Fetcher was news. A story about their reunion
with Finn and Arn appeared in the local news-paper. The publications were
now called news-papers instead of news-sheets since they had gone from a
single sheet to eight pages. In a reversal of roles for once the young
journalist sat as the interviewee rather than the interviewer. Even folks
who might have missed the story in the paper recognized the tattoo marking
him as a Giant Friend or had seen Arn's paintings at the Wayfarers' Inn.

The young journalist interviewed both ordinary folks and prominent figures
like Oddr Bjarnson, the Frost Giants' long-time political leader and
currently the elected governor of New Varangia under the suzerainty of the
Commonwealth. Harald Sigurdsen, their former war chief, was now commanding
officer of both the mounted constabulary and the Fyrd of New Varangia,
their militia.

"We have made a solid start in building a second homeland for us Frost
Giants. Would you believe our population has risen to over fifty thousand,
virtually all of it from immigration, given our slow rate of
reproduction. Frost Giants have moved here from both our original homeland
and our diaspora. In twenty years, we might number half a million and still
not be crowded like we were back home." Oddr said proudly.

Sigurdsen nodded, adding:

"Those numbers plus our political, military, and economic ties to the
Commonwealth augur well for both our security and our prosperity. You and
the twins played a big role in making this possible."

"As I remember it, I was just one of a thousand who fought in the Battle of
the Ravine against the Centaurs. You were there too. When the battle was
over, both you and Oddr were covered with blood, fortunately mostly not
your own."

Major Ter Horst commanded the fort outside the town and the battalion of
Commonwealth cavalry that patrolled the roads which the Commonwealth had
built across the land of the Frost Giants to connect the lowlands of the
Far West to the rest of the Commonwealth. A man in his thirties and of
middling height but powerfully built, he too was a veteran of the Centaur
War, a fact which helped promote a productive relationship with his
counterparts.

In fact Drew had watched Ter Horst's battalion swoop down on the right wing
of the centaur army and annihilate it. That happened right after Drew and
Artor had teamed up to blunt the attack of the centaur wedge that
threatened to destroy the Commonwealth cavalry force, which the centaurs
had brought to battle alone without the support of the heavy infantry of
the Frost Giants.

Drew handed over a copy of the orders that activated his commission as a
reserve ensign in the Commonwealth Army. The orders also required civil and
military officials to expedite his and the twins' travel to the Far
West. From the major Drew wanted an extended interview about conditions in
New Varangia, What he got was an invitation to dinner that evening in an
atmosphere more congenial for an informal talk than the major's busy
office.

"Hmm, aren't you out of uniform, Ensign Altair?" the major challenged
Drew. "I'll allow that that white silk confection flatters your physique
better than any uniform could, but still...."

Drew could see that the major was not serious. Though the officer kept a
straight face, merriment danced in his grey eyes.

"It's mentioned in my orders. Major. that I am concurrently on assignment
as a journalist for the Capital Intelligencer. Here in Flensborg, I do not
have any official duties to perform, so I dress in civilian garb."

"Just so you know, young man, that if we ever run into each other when both
of us are in uniform, I will expect a salute." the major added with mock
severity

"Aye aye, sir!"

"And do try to remember, Ensign, that you are in the army not the navy."

"Yes sir."

"Now on your trip out West? Will you travel in uniform or in white silks?"

"Neither, actually. We, that is me and the twins, need to keep up our
stamina, so we will cover much of the ground on foot, setting out early
each morning before the mail coach leaves and letting it catch up to us,
then hop aboard for the remainder of that day's journey. Since it is just
the four of us, so except for Finn Ragnarson, we three will run naked the
whole trip."

"The whole trip, eh? Stark naked."

Drew shrugged.

"Why not? It's how I got here from the capital, running the whole way
without a stitch on, leading a pony with my gear."

"Did you really? You must like being naked. A bit of an exhibitionist,
maybe?"

"No maybe about it, and more than a bit, I'll admit." Drew conceded with a
laugh. "What can I say? I am beautiful. The gods or nature, if you will,
have graced me with physical beauty well beyond the norm. In my view, that
makes it my duty to share my, er, youthful male pulchritude with my fellow
citizens of the Commonwealth." Drew opined blandly.

"Right! Oh I can see you are a sexy little thing, but understand that my
own tastes do not run in that direction. No offense, Ensign Altair, but I
consort exclusively with the female half of the species."

"Good luck with that, sir!"

"Impertinent scamp!" the major exclaimed, a feigned scowl on his face. "Now
be off with you till later."

The major suppressed a smile long enough for Drew to close the door behind
him. No, he did not fancy pretty boys but how could anyone fail to respond
to the intelligence, good will, and cheery insouciance embodied in the
young officer.

"That lad could charm a gold piece from the death grip of a miser!", Ter
Horst thought to himself, then added a prayer: "May the gods watch over
you, young Ensign Altair."

Drew also visited Ragnar Svenson, the shipper who had lead him to the
Wayfarers' Inn. On a day trip out of town Finn's brother Holgar showed Drew
around their operation both at their lumber yard and at their sawmill
upstream.

In the countryside Drew saw that the Frost Giants harnessed the huge
aurochs, cattle standing six feet tall at the shoulder, to draw their
plows. New Varangia would never be self-sufficient in grain and really had
no need, not with ready access to the flourishing grain trade around the
shores of the Great Inland Freshwater Sea and up its tributary
rivers. Close to town, farmers devoted their acres to vegetable gardens,
orchards, and dairy operations. Farmers also grew special strains of wheat,
barely, and hops, ingredients for the potent beers quaffed by the Frost
Giants.

Two days before their departure Drew wrote up his impressions of Flensborg
and New Varangia and sent a pair of articles off to his older brother, the
editor of the Capital Intelligencer. Now he was free for pleasure.

As a journalist, author, and omnivorous reader of books, Drew was as
devoted to the life of the mind as any young male whose juices were flowing
could be. But he knew that a life lived to fullest had to have time for the
pleasures of the table, of the glass, and of the bed.

Drew enjoyed the first two in moderation, steering a middle course between
self-indulgence and abstemiousness. In Drew's view, outright gluttony was
reprehensible while even gourmands who did not overeat devoted entirely too
much time and energy to the subject of food. And fasting was both folly and
its own well deserved punishment. Same thing applied to both drunkards and
wine connoisseurs on the one hand and teetotalers on the other.

For Drew, food and drink were among life's principal pleasures though they
were always enjoyed in moderation. The young human ate till he was full but
not till he was stuffed. Same thing with drink. Beer and wine went fine
with a meal, but a tankard of beer or ale or a couple of glasses of wine
were plenty for him. His small body simply could not tolerate any great
quantity of drink.

Drew weighed only one hundred pounds, whereas a giant like Finn could
indulge himself as both trencherman and imbiber since his huge muscular
body already weighed four hundred pounds though Finn was not yet fully
grown. Their host Old Arn was taller but with a rangy build and weighed six
hundred. Either could drink little Drew under the table just wetting their
whistles. Drew know that and restricted his consumption accordingly. So did
the twins who weighed only a third more than Drew.

Drew's idea of a fun evening started with a three course dinner at the
restaurant washed down with a mug of Arn's best brew, the one he had
trademarked as "The Same". It was his best seller even though it cost
more. Folks would order it as a joke, just to be able to say "I'll have The
Same." They almost always ordered another; it was that good.

Dinner was followed by an evening of music and song and dance in the common
room of the tavern. Drew paired with each of the twins in energetic pas de
deux and somewhat awkwardly with Finn. During Drew's and Karel's gyrations
on the dance floor, a hand reached out from a table and snatched the sarong
right off Drew's hips, rendering him naked instantly.

Whistles, hoots, stomps, and thunderous applause greeted this
development. The pair paused in their dancing. Drew's eyes twinkled
naughtily as he said to his dance partner:

"If that's the way they want it, let's really give the crowd something to
remember!" Drew snatched the blue silk sarong off Karel's hips and tossed
it to Donnar.

"I know it was you, Donnar, who did the honors for me just now. So hang on
to both of these, would you?"

Donnar nodded, a big grin on his face. He held the garments to his face and
sniffed, taking in their scent.

"Attar of roses!" he announced. "We all know what kind of boy uses that
scent."

As the crowd nodded and chuckled, Drew lead his dance partner through
erotically charged dance steps, a routine that could only be described as
foreplay. At the finish of their number the dancers' slender athletic
physiques gleamed with perspiration as they breathed hard, looking like
lovers who had just climaxed in sexual congress. Taking his cue, Drew
kissed Karel long and hard. Their hands roamed... In no time, their young
manhoods rose to half staff.

"Get a room!" Someone yelled.

"No! Let's watch them do it right here on a table." Another enthusiast
suggested.

"Sorry fellas, but we are taking this upstairs."

As Drew and Karel turned toward the stairs, Jemsen retrieved their sarongs
from Donnar and followed the boys and Finn upstairs where they all fell
into bed together.

The rest of their evening was spent in an noisy, sweaty, and energetic
celebration of same gender sex.

			Author's Note

This story is entirely fictional, with no resemblance intended to any
person living or dead.

If you have enjoyed this story and others like it, consider making a
donation to the Nifty Archive. It is so easy. They take credit cards. Point
your browser to http://donate.nifty.org/donate.html

This story is part of an occasional series about the further adventures of
the characters introduced in the fantasy novel 'Elf-Boy and Friends' and
published by Nifty Archive. The chief protagonist of the novel, Dahlderon,
elf-boy and druid, will appear in these stories in a supporting rather than
starring role. Each story arc in the sequence stands on its own, with the
focus on one or just a few of the original characters.

Readers who like these stories might want to try my two series 'Daphne Boy'
and 'Naked Prey' in the Gay/Historical section of the Archive. My 'Jungle
Boy' series of Hollywood tales is posted in the Gay/Authoritarian section.
The recent series 'Andrew Jackson High' relates the trials and tribulations
of five of its gay students. For links to these and other stories, look on
the list of Prolific Authors on the Archive.

Comments and feedback welcome.