Ballet of Rainbows - 1. Ballet of Rainbows

Bæjarfjall Peninsula, near Straumness Lighthouse, Iceland, March 15^th 2019

 

The night was ink-black and crystal clear over the Norwegian Sea, where it touched the shores of the North Icelandic coast. Many stars sparkled and the water hit the rocks in a low rumble, driven by a gentle northern wind.

Along the whole northern horizon, in the direction of the North Pole, bands of light could be seen. It was not lightning, as one might suspect. It was far more beautiful and enchanting.

Could a lightning flash captivate the attention of an onlooker for maybe a few seconds at the most, this spectacle would keep the eyes focused for as long as it took.

Bands of soft green light were dancing through the night. So every now and then they peaked upward in an explosion of crimson flashes, turning into a hazy lilac before they faded away high in the atmosphere. At other moments the green turned electric blue, that bright, that it almost appeared as white to the eye, topped off and sided by purple bands. Another variation seen was, that the bands were topped by a deep velvet-blue border, hardly discernable against the black sky over the phenomenon. All these colors seemed to dance in the sky, without any pre-arranged pattern, just tumbling over and through one another.

On the ground a young man, in his mid-twenties, stood all alone. He was avidly watching the natural light show over the waters. His short hair, a very dark shade of blond in color during daytime, now changed color from green to blue to crimson, as was his face, as they were illuminated by the lights.

But despite that, it could clearly be seen, that he had a sad expression on his face, while his shoulders were somewhat slumped. The vague smile on his face expressed sorrow and grieve and so every now and then he swept the back of his hand along the cheeks, as if he was wiping away tears. Despite being all alone it looked, as if he was talking to someone, gesturing with his hands so every now and then.

Abruptly his facial expression changed, as if he thought of something, that changed his mood. His shoulders got straight again. The vague sorrowful smile disappeared and was replaced by a strong, even radiant laughter of delight from gleaming eyes. His lips moved, clearly showing he was saying something.

The young man kept staring at the lights in the sky, his eyes moving from a gleaming to a smoldering expression. The smile even broadened. For a second time his lips moved, but again the rumbling of the water on the rocks made it inaudible. And even more funny: he started to jump up and down in great excitement!

He stood there for almost another hour. Then the lights in the sky gradually died down in intensity and disappeared, the night becoming as black as it had been before the spectacle started.

The young man turned around and with strong and determined step he moved to the little road, where he had parked his old Volvo.

 

Downtown Reykjavik, June, five years earlier

 

Stirnir ran out of the building of the University of the Arts in downtown Reykjavik, jumped off the stairs and made a ciseaux once he landed on the sidewalk, following it up by a somersault and topped it all off with a roaring rebel yell. By-passers looked at it with smiles on their faces. The boy was clearly elated about something.

Stirnir had all reasons in the world to be elated. After preparing for years during his childhood and puberty to be allowed to enter the academy and then for three heavy years of hard working to avoid being prematurely washed out of it, he finally graduated. Not only that, he graduated with honors. He was a ballet dancer now! Because the national Dance Company in Reykjavik had a program to support honor graduates as a start-up, he already had a job for the first year of his fledgling career. Now, if that was not reason enough to be elated for a young man of twenty-one?

While walking to his small one room apartment in an old building near the harbor he smiled at the thought, that his parents must have suspected it. His Icelandic first name “Stirnir” meant “to sparkle”. However, despite their premonitions, neither of them was present at the graduation. After their divorce his father went to the USA to work as a jazz musician, while his mother went to England, where she worked in her old profession as a dancer. He was alone at the ceremony, when he received his diploma.

Given his appearances it sounded odd that there was no one in his life, because Stirnir was what one might call a gorgeous boy. He was large with his almost one meter ninety, had a well-trained, muscular but despite that still slim body. His face seemed almost sculptured and was dominated by his always-friendly green eyes. His unruly and wild, shoulder-long bright-blond hair seemed to act as a physical expression of his independence and his zest for living, especially when it was flying in the almost eternally blowing winds coming in from the seas. He had a soft voice, that only expressed what his friendly character wanted to say.

But there was no one on his hand during his evening walks along the waterfront and he always did his jogging in the morning alone. There was no equally gorgeous girl, because Stirnir had no interest in girls, and there was no boy, because for years he had been continuously absorbed by his goal, the goal he achieved on this beautiful summer day.

Stirnir never bothered to hide his preference for boys and it had never caused any problems for him. Icelanders are a liberal lot of people, where nobody had any qualms about who went to bed with who, be it a young couple, a married man with a married woman, two boys or two girls. They simply didn’t care! Despite the situation of gays in other countries of the world, an Icelandic gay had no reason at all to behave secretive about his sexual preferences and life.

His life up to this day, all centered on ballet, did not mean he had been living as a monk. He had his share of one night stands and he actually had something promising going on about a year earlier for a full three months, but when his lover found out, that being in love with a prospective ballet dancer was more than having sex with an exquisite body but also entailed to cope with a rigorous discipline and burning ambitions, he had disappeared with the sunset, not to be seen again. It had hurt Stirnir, but he overcame his broken heart and plunged himself into dancing with even more fanatism than he had already done before.

He had made up his mind to change his solitary existence, making this his second goal after the overruling first, his graduation, was achieved. Not that he was expecting short term miracles. He saw no reason to jump into some hopeless adventure. And another thing he decided, while he was walking home, was that he would relax the discipline for a few days and simply celebrate his success. With a beaming smile on his face, he thought he might allow himself this little holiday and start some partying. And then it was about time for his career!

 

The Tikki Queer Bar, downtown Reykjavik, that same evening

 

After he had showered, Stirnir pulled on his tight white jeans and his gleaming purple tank top and after looking in the mirror he considered himself all good to go to the bar, where no doubt a huge party would be going on during this graduation time at the university. That the Tikki was considered the queer hotspot of Iceland was an added benefit. He was not expecting his great love there right away, but he wouldn’t sneeze at the opportunity of a nice, long and hot night with a beautiful and horny boy as part of his graduation festivities.

Despite the early hour the bar was already pretty well filled with partying people. The music blared from all sides and the dancing floor was full. A quick look around noticed some other people from his year, also graduating this day. There was some banter here, some congratulations there and the whole atmosphere made Stirnir feel great. Most of the people were about his age, making clear that the queer part of the university population held his celebrations in this bar, but being from all kinds of studies there were a lot of them he didn’t know or of which he only had some vague reminiscences of having seen them some time in the past.

He ordered a beer and when he got one in his hand, he just started to observe the party, considering it great fun just to look at all those people, who were cook-a-hoop.

After a while it started to bore him. For a second he entertained the idea to go on the dancing floor himself but, having promised himself a short holiday, he decided against it. He was just thinking about going home and have himself a nice quiet evening. He casted a last glance over the dancing and drinking crowd, when he noticed somebody.

It was hardly impossible to miss him. The boy was incredibly cute: he was somewhat smaller than Stirnir, maybe one meter eighty or eighty-five. He looked like a sportsman, muscled but not the type of overdone body builder with a cute ass in a tight jeans short and tanned legs sticking out underneath it. Stirnir was not able to discern the color of his eyes from this distance, but they were dark. He had a friendly and open face, the kind of boy that was liked by everyone, with a warm smile. His shortly cropped dark blond hair shone in the colors of the party illuminations, while he stood relaxed, in conversation with another boy. Yes, he was cute and yes…he caused a desire, a sudden reaction in the groins.

“Let’s see if I can seduce him”, Stirnir said barely audible to himself, “Who dares, wins!”

He put down the empty beer glass on the counter and started to move towards the boy.

 

Einar saw him coming and noticed right away, that he had the same reaction as the first time he saw this boy. He couldn’t exactly remember when it was, but it was in one of the many corridors of the university. Both times, then and now, his heart skipped a few beats and he felt a sudden outbreak of butterflies in his belly. He excused himself with the boy he was talking with and turned towards the gorgeous boy, that came walking towards him, knowing that he could only wait for the coming developments.

“Hæ…”, Stirnir said, sauntering a bit. For some reason he felt really nervous.

“Hæ”, Einar replied.

„I eeuhh…I hope I didn’t disturb your conversation with that other guy”, Stirnir said…or was he almost stammering? He had no idea.

“Don’t bother”, Einar said with a blinding smile, “He was a bore anyway”.

For a few seconds Stirnir just stood, unable to utter a word. The smile was so enchanting, that he had to digest the wonderful sight. He was now able to determine the boy’s color of eyes: they were grey, a beautiful anthracite-shade of grey and they shone like two suns over the laughing mouth, that showed a regular, spotlessly white set of teeth.

Einar picked up the silence, debited it correctly to uncertainty and decided to go in the offensive so he said:

“By the way, they call me Einar!”

“Oh yes”, Stirnir stuttered.

“What is this, dumbo?” it flashed through his mind, “He ain’t the first one you’re trying to make a pass on!” But he gained some courage and continued by saying:

“I’m Stirnir”.

Einar nodded approvingly and with his voice low said:

“That’s a beautiful name. And so appropriate!”

“Why that?” Stirnir asked puzzled.

Einar looked at him with warm eyes and said:

“Because your wonderful green eyes sparkle like diamonds in the sun!”.

He saw Stirnir blush a little. It made him so cute!

“So, Einar”, Stirnir tried to start a conversation, “What are you doing?”

“Right now, you mean?” Einar asked in return.

Stirnir nodded.

Einar giggled a few seconds and then shamelessly replied:

“At the moment I’m trying very hard to impress you”.

The little blush on Stirnir’s cheeks now became a large one.

“Well…”, he stammered, “I meant…just this time…are you studying or working or something?”

Einar laughed. It was an infectious and an enchanting laugh.

“Sorry”, he said, “I didn’t want to embarrass you. But to answer your question: literally at this moment I’m doing nothing. I just graduated so now I’m looking for a job”. He shrugged and added:

“Well, after some holiday that is!”

“That’s funny”, Stirnir said relieved, happy there was a common subject, “I graduated as well. Actually, just today! And you?”

“Which means you graduated in Performing Arts then. They were today. I graduated yesterday”, Einar said matter-of-factly.

“What was scheduled yesterday then?” Stirnir asked, having no idea what so ever.

“Design and Architecture”, Einar replied, “I did Architecture. But now I know where I’ve seen you before. We were both at the University of Arts”.

Stirnir nodded in confirmation and thought it over. He couldn’t recall he had ever seen Einar before. And what a waste that was!

“What did you do?” Einar asked.

“I’m a ballet dancer now”, Stirnir answered modestly.

“Wow” Einar cried out, “That’s real art! And it explains how you got that gorgeous body”.

Now it was Stirnir’s turn to giggle when he said:

“Hey, I’m already blushing to the maximum. You can’t get my face any more red as it is right now”.

Laughing Einar took both his hands and looked him straight in his eyes. Stirnir felt smitten by them. He never knew that the sun could be anthracite-grey as well, but here it was, right in front of him.

Einar bent slightly over, his face nearer to Stirnir’s and said:

“This party is boring me. How about a nice walk along the waterfront, just the two of us?”

“I would really love that!” Stirnir answered softly.

 

They walked along the waterfront, chatting a bit about normal, everyday subjects. Fishing trawlers gently rocked on the small waves in port and seagulls streaked the water surface, searching for every scrap of possible edible things. So every now and then two or three of them ended up in a midair fight over some small piece of prey on the water surface. Despite the late hour the sun still shone, only to go under shortly before midnight, just to pop up again shortly after the change of day.

Stirnir was sure he was dreaming, that it was not real what was happening to him and that this surreal bubble might explode any second now. It was hard to believe that this tremendous day of his graduation and a job on top of that might grow into the most glorious day of his life, adding the finding of a love to the list as well. But the dream appeared to become only firmer and more realistic when he felt Einar’s hand slip in his.

“I really love watching ballet when it is on tv”, Einar said, “Not that there is a lot of it, but when it is on tv, I want to see it. It is so…delicate, so graceful. It’s more art than architecture. You know, there are days I feel like a glorified construction worker”.

“I don’t agree”, Stirnir replied, “Yes, ballet is a different art from architecture. It is a performing art. That is exactly its drawback: it is fleeting! When the last tone of the music dies down and the dancer performs his last move it disappears into past, never to come back again”.

“But you do a ballet more than once, don’t you?” Einar objected.

“Yes, but each performance is different: the way the public reacts, the way you feel, the way the other dancers feel, how the dancers interact. Each performance is subtly different. Today’s performance is never like yesterday’s one or the one that comes tomorrow. Your art is for years: when you design a building, it stands for fifty or hundred years, maybe even longer and it is there for everyone to look at. So, my art is there one second and gone the next, your art is for the long term. And hey…there are days I feel like a squeezed lemon”, Stirnir added laughing.

Einar looked at him with his smile that could melt the Polar Icecap and breathed:

“Maybe you need someone to get you through these days”.

Hearing this, Stirnir’s heart took another tempo upbeat and his head felt as if it swam in nebulous clouds of emotions.

Abruptly Einar stood still, took both Stirnir’s hands and pulled him against his body. They stood in something akin to evening twilight, while the sun dipped towards the ocean water in the west, just to pop up almost right away in the east again. They must have been paralyzed from the waist down not to feel the arousal in each other’s trousers and totally insensitive not to note the hearts, thumping in each of their chest. Einar’s already radiating eyes got to a barely bearable level of intensity. The anthracite sun-eyes burned in Stirnir’s heart when he heard Einar asking:

“Tell me, Stirnir, in all honesty: are you one of those guys who start a sprint away from me, loudly screaming while doing so, when I say that I think I love you?”

Stirnir thought it over for a few seconds, as far as he was still capable of reasonable thinking, and answered:

“I’m not responsible for what other guys do. But if you ask me: I think the chance is by far bigger that I stay right here where I am and take you in my arms”.

“Then do so!” Einar uttered softly.

Stirnir did as was told and their heads neared each other, resulting in the first high voltage kiss. After that first one both wanted more kisses and after that more again, and more… When their lips finally parted Einar said matter-of-factly:

“The wind is picking up. It’s a bit chilly to stand here in shorts and tank top”.

But then he added with a naughty expression in his eyes:

“How big is your apartment?”

“Only one room”, Stirnir answered truthfully.

“I’ve got two rooms”, Einar whispered in his ear, “So let’s go to my place!”

Totally unable to resist the temptation, Stirnir could only nod and holding each other by the waist they left the waterfront.

 

They were at Einar’s place in no time and in an even shorter time Stirnir saw the boy stark naked for the first time. And he was awed by it! Never before had he seen such a beautiful body, the proportions were perfect, the skin smooth and tanned, there was not a hair to be seen on it. But he wasn’t the only one who was impressed by what he saw.

Einar was mighty impressed by what he saw. Although he really was no newbie in the gay world, he had never seen such a perfect body. Somehow it was totally different from his. His was built for power, necessary in swimming and football. Stirnir’s body was a curious mix of strength and grace. Yes, he was slim, but muscled at the same time. Only, his muscles appeared to remain within the gracious lines of his body, never in protruding bundles as his own were. There was one peculair thing: under a perfectly proportioned shoulder party Einar could literally count the boy’s ribs, but then a real six-pack followed under them. He had long legs, again muscled but with delightful lines, as if drawn by an artist. And when he moved, he did it with a suppleness and a grace of which Einar could only dream of.

“Wow”, he hissed, “You’re even more beautiful than I imagined”.

It made Stirnir giggle in a disarming shy way.

Einar patted invitingly on the free space on the double-bed and watched in delight when Stirnir moved towards him with the gracious step, that only a dancer could make. The boy lay down beside him and took him in his arms.

“Will you love me while you’re with me?” Einar asked timidly.

“Yes…”, Stirnir hissed, “I will love you…I will love you in all possible ways with all the strength I have!”

“Then do it…! And do it all the way!” was Einar’s reaction, suddenly sounding almost pent-up.

The funny thing about thoughts is, that a long and complicated thought can go through one’s mind in a split second. Stirnir had that, when he lay down next to Einar. He remembered his mother telling him, that love must grow and must be nurtured, which he considered an untenable position in her case, since their divorce seemed to indicate that love can un-grow as well. Anyway, his love for Einar needed no nurturing and could well do without an incubator, because this was not a simple love at first sight, but this was more like love by avalanche, an avalanche that had rolled over him with devastating force and had swept him off his feet without any chance to scramble up again and recover from the onslaught. When he looked in these two grey suns, that sparkled, spitted the fire of burning lust, that enticed, enchanted and haunted him, then he knew he was lost for the rest of his life and that he could only give in to what was implored by them. So, he gave in!

Stirnir’s nose picked up Einar’s body scent, intoxicating him. It struck him a bit odd that the boy had a slightly salty smell, until he realized himself that they had been walking and standing along the waterfront for most of the evening. Einar seemed to sense his thought, because he said:

“That’s funny, you smell a bit salty. It sure makes you irresistible, sweetie!”

“You smell the same, gorgeous”, Stirnir muttered softly under his breath.

The kissing started. Their lips and tongues hardly parted each other’s companionship. The only moment when they were separated was during that crown of oral stimulation, Number Sixty-Nine, and for some very brief excursions over each other’s bodies. But for the rest the two pairs of lips and the two tongues were intimately connected, as were their eyes, locked onto each other with the precision of a heat-seeking guided missile.

Stirnir let his fingers play through Einar’s hair, marveling at the softness of it. His fingertips gave him the sensation as if he was stroking a very soft pelt. Then he let them follow the back of Einar’s head, gliding softly over the neck and over the shoulders, causing a soft purring sound of pleasure. In the meantime, his lips and tongue stroke over the throat and along the jaw line, licking the earlobe softly in a tickling move. But then his lips sought out Einar’s again, whose lips accepted their touch eagerly for another time.

Stirnir’s fingers continued their trip, following Einar’s spine, caressing each vertebra they encountered along the journey, until they ended on the smooth, soft skin of the buttocks. Feeling them sent a chill of desire over his own spine.

“I want you!” he whispered.

Einar looked at him, his eyes half closed, his mouth slightly opened. Then he panted:

“Then do it! I will welcome you in me!”

As if to augment his answer Einar laid one leg over Stirnir’s shoulder and the other hooked over Stirnir’s back, offering an inviting barrierless entrance to the intimate, inner parts of his body.

Stirnir was pretty experienced when it came to fucking boys, so he knew what to expect. Although the majority of his previous one night-lovers had screamed for his twenty centimeters, he had always noticed some, possibly unconscious, resistance against the actual penetration, mostly by a tightly closed sphincter, necessitating liberal doses of lube. But not this time: to his surprise he found Einar’s sphincter totally relaxed and his normally narrow hole wide open, ready to receive him. The sight of it made him even hornier than he already was and there was only one thing on his mind: he wanted to get in!

Without needing any lube, he slid in the whole way until his balls touched Einar’s buttocks, enjoying the welcoming warm, damp softness around his tip and shaft. He felt how Einar re-positioned the leg on his shoulder to a position behind his back, clamping him fiercely between the legs and how he started to forcefully pushing him in. The magic eyes were closed now, the mouth open, gasping for breath. Only an “Aaaahhh” came over Einar’s lips.

Einar had his own visualization of the happening. He felt it as if a burning tip of some lance was entering him, burning from the fire of love. He experienced every millimeter of progress, enjoying it thoroughly. When he felt, that it was deep enough, he cupped his hands behind Stirnir’s head, pulled it low towards his face until their lips were able to touch again. At that time Stirnir slowly started his thrusting.

While he continued his in- and-out movements in a quiet, tender rhythm, they kept kissing and tongueing intensely. Stirnir’s lips touched the tip of Einar’s cute nose, tried to extinguish the feverish expression in his eyes by kissing them and nibbled at the skin of his shoulder. When the release came, their lips were glued together again, disabling them to make a single sound while ejaculating, apart from a soft moan, that Einar uttered. Stirnir jolted while having his explosion and within seconds Einar started to shake and shiver as well, feeling something that none of his previous lovers had been able to give him: his first anal orgasm! Without realizing it, he tightened the grip around Stirnir’s neck, almost strangling him in pure delight.

“Wow, my love”, Stirnir joked, “You better keep me alive, if you want this more often”.

“Sorry”, Einar giggled, “I did it without thinking”.

“And that means?” Stirnir asked teasingly.

“That I want it more often”, Einar answered with shining eyes, “As far as I am concerned: every day of my life!”

“You, naughty boy”, was the giggled reaction.

They lay as they were during the fucking, Stirnir half on top on Einar, while they continued their kissing and stroking, until Stirnir’s dick slid out of Einar’s warm corridor.

 

After they had caught their breath and the sweat on their skins had evaporated in the cool evening air, they just lay side by side, so every now and then kissing and stroking. Between those playful activities Stirnir stared to the ceiling, thinking something over, something he couldn’t understand.

Suddenly he said:

“Einar, may I ask you something?”

“Sure”, came the immediate reply, “I’ve got no secrets for you!”

When Einar said it, he looked in Stirnir’s eyes. By now they were without the component of burning desire, that was quenched, but despite that they continued to shine powerful.

“What made you so determined to get my love?” Stirnir wanted to know.

“Because I sensed you are the guy, I was looking for…the sweet, tender and gorgeous guy I wanted”, Einar replied almost casually.

“Yes…”, Stirnir objected, “But there are more sweet, tender and gorgeous guys. Why me? And why this question in which you mentioned these other guys, earlier this evening, you know: these guys that ran away?”

To his surprise Einar’s eyes changed their expression, becoming dim, as if the question had hurt him.

“Do we have to discuss this now?” he asked somewhat irritated, “On this wonderful night?”

“So, you have secrets for me?” Stirnir insisted.

Einar shook his head with determination and said:

“No, but it hurts to talk about it. At the risk you will still run away from me, I tell you”.

He turned around and lay on his belly, his head propped up on his hands when he started to talk:

“I don’t know my parents. My father? Maybe an American service man, who simply went back home when the base at Keflavik closed down. Or maybe a sailor from a ship that stayed a few days in port. Or some guy from Iceland. My mother? I haven’t got a clue”.

“How can that be?” Stirnir asked shocked.

“I was found as a baby, abandoned at the entrance of the Reykjavik University Hospital”, came the sad reply.

“Huh?” Stirnir said, genuinely taken aback, “But this is Iceland. Nobody makes any fuss about an unmarried mother. There’s plenty of them!”

“I don’t know”, Einar sighed, “Of course I’ve thought about that. I guess fear makes people do very funny things, even if these fears are for no logical reason. Anyway, I grew up in homes and with foster parents, some of them very sweet people, others less…pleasant to live with. Don’t get me wrong: I had to eat, I had clothes, as a kid I even had toys. But the one thing I lacked was real love, unconditional love. And in a way I felt I could get it with you, this unconditional love. So, that’s why. I really wish and hope, that my feeling about you is right”.

He sighed again and said softly:

“Does that answer satisfy you?”

There was only one thing, that Stirnir could think of in reaction to this story. He took Einar in his arms and pulled his head on his chest, where he started to stroke the soft, dark-blond hair.

“Did you notice, that I didn’t run away?” he asked.

The sparkling came back in Einar’s eyes and he nodded.

“I’ll give you my unconditional love”, Stirnir simply said, his heart almost thumping out of his chest.

“And you’ll have my unconditional love”, Einar said, “I promise. No matter what happens!”.

Then he added:

“Do you have much stuff you have to move over here?”

Stirnir laughed and answered:

“No, only some old furniture and my clothes and that kind of things. But on the other hand, you can forget about that furniture!”

They kissed another time. Cuddled up like they were they fell asleep, while on the streets the city of Reykjavik started to wake up.

 

Bæjarfjall Peninsula, near Straumness Lighthouse, Iceland, January 2015

 

It had been a two-and-a-half hours drive to get there in pitch darkness, but finally they managed to arrive at the spot, that Stirnir knew. They parked their old Volvo along a small road and started climbing uphill, navigating between the many boulders on the grasses. Hand in hand they walked towards the summit in a howling wind, that came in from the north.

“Glad I have my parka on”, Einar muttered, “It’s freezing cold out here”

“You’ll get warm once you see what I wanted to show you, my love”, Stirnir said.

The whole evening excursion had begun about four hours before, while Einar was cooking spaghetti. Life as a couple turned out to entail more than only romance and sex with the gorgeous body of a ballet dancer, but also included the everyday things. And since it was Einar’s cooking day, he was fighting it out with an unwilling zucchini.

While keeping an eye on the sauce he heard the apartment door fall shut and a cheerful voice cried out:

“Hi, my love, I’m home”.

Stirnir walked into the kitchen and with eyes gleaming with excitement he called out:

“Have you heard it on the radio?”

Without saying a word Einar’s ignorant gaze made it perfectly clear, he had no idea what he should have heard, so Stirnir excitedly explained:

“The Northern Lights are visible this night. Especially up north, along the coast. You wanna go there?”

“This night?” Einar exclaimed, “It’s dark then and it’s fucking cold out there”.

“It is supposed to be dark, my love”, Stirnir laughed.

Einar felt Stirnir’s body against his back and noticed how the two arms wrapped around his waist, followed by a tender kiss in the back of his neck.

“By daytime you can’t see them”, Stirnir softly said.

“Hmmm”, Einar said in mock grumbling, „I know what I like better than standing in the cold in the middle of the night. That kiss you just gave me for starters”.

“OK”, Stirnir teased, “You want another then?”

“Yeaaahhhh”, Einar giggled.

It took Stirnir some effort to convince Einar that it was really worthwhile to take a look at world’s largest natural light show and he knew he had won when Einar admitted, that he had never really seen it.

So directly after dinner they put on their winter parkas, took a thermos of hot coffee and jumped in their car for the long trip to Straumness.

 

So, there they were. They sat against each other side by side on a large boulder, looking out over the dark Norwegian Sea, waiting for things to happen. Their arms were over each other’s shoulder.

“How did you know about these Northern Lights?” Einar asked.

“That’s pretty simple”, Stirnir replied, “When my parents divorced and went abroad, I went to live with my grandmother in Akureyri on the north coast. She told me about it. So, when I heard they could be seen, I went to the coast and watched it. And man, it really awed me”.

“You had a good time when you lived with your grandmother?” Einar asked curious.

Stirnir laughed and answered with somewhat dreamy eyes:

“She was a very sweet woman. I think she even spoiled me. And, you know, although she had no connection what so ever with the arts scene, she supported me when it became clear, that my vocation was in ballet. Besides: she also supported me completely in coming out”.

“Sounds like a great lady!” Einar said with a tad of jealousy in his voice, “Is she still alive?”

Stirnir nodded somewhat despondent and said:

“Yeah, she is. She’s in a retirement home now. She was no longer able to live alone…Alzheimer!”

Einar frowned but was too late to say something about it, because Stirnir exclaimed:

“Wait…The show starts!”

A kind of blot of blueish-green light appeared on the northern horizon and expanded itself in a band of light. Other colors mixed in: some crimson, some yellowish, extremely light blue, purple and lilac and all these colors seemed to dance through and over each other in a magnificent light show.

“Wow!! Awesome!!” Einar exclaimed, visibly impressed.

Unexpectedly Stirnir rose. He cupped his hands behind his head, his elbows sticking out and was looking at the light in the sky with mesmerized eyes, humming some music.

“He’s there!” he said, “I see him!”

Einar looked at him, puzzled and shocked. He found the whole spectacle extremely cool, but he hadn’t seen anybody in the lights.

“What are you talking about?” he asked.

“Yeah, it sounded dumb, but let me explain”, Stirnir said embarrassed, “I saw it the first time in my life when I was fourteen. And while looking I had this…vision, that there was a man dancing in the lights. In the years after that I saw myself dancing in the lights”.

“Everything OK, sweetie?” Einar asked a bit worried.

Stirnir laughed and said:

“Yeah, I really have them all listed. What I meant to say is: I started imagining to make a choreography for it, combined with a laser show and the suitable music. In other words: to make a ballet out of it, or maybe even an integrated arts performance!”

“Man!”, Einar cried out, “That’s a great idea!”

Stirnir laughed shyly.

“What music are you thinking of?” Einar asked.

“Well, I’ve listened to a lot of things, but only two remain. If I keep it conventional, I think I will use “The Winter” from Vivaldi’s Four Seasons, but then in a recent recording that really sounds like rock. If I go into the psychedelic spheres it will be “At the gates of delirium”.

“Huh?” Einar reacted.

“It’s a long psychedelic song from a British rock group, called Yes. Somewhere from 1974”, Stirnir explained.

“Man…, 1974. Your parents were in primary school in that year. How come you know it?” Einar asked.

“Quite simple,” was the straightforward reply, “I found it on YouTube. It is on my laptop, so you can hear it, if you want”.

“Shit man”, Einar said in admiration, “That’s really a great idea. Now I understand why they let you graduate with honors. You’re totally good in your art!”

“Slow down, my love”, Stirnir said cautiously, “I have to realize it first. Dreaming alone is not enough”.

“You can do it!” Einar said confident, “How will you call it?”

“Hmmm, somehow it’s not the same but with all these colors and the swirling movements I thought of “Ballet of Rainbows”. That title combines the movement with the colors”.

“Great title!” Einar said in delight, “Do it, sweetie! Just make it!”

Stirnir sat down again and they watched the rest of the spectacle high in the air. When the lights vanished, they rose and walked back to their car for another long drive back home.

“Will be a short night”, Einar laughed while they drove back, “But next time I want to see it again”.

 

Downtown Reykjavik, March 2016

 

Life in general turned into some regular groove. They both had their jobs and their chores at home, which they both dutifully executed in turn. However, the love for each other remained fresh, burning and unconditional and it was the raft on which their whole existence floated.

Stirnir was lucky. The graduation class of the year after him had no honor graduates, so his position in the ballet company was simply extended for another year with some vague indications, that he might become a permanent member after that.

They had been on their first holiday together last summer. Being both pure Icelandic and not only in love with each other but with their country as well, they saw no need to go to Europe or America and decided to stay in Iceland. They had trekked through the uninhabited central parts of the country, marveling at the softly smoking volcano’s, the furiously blowing geysers and enjoying the landscape in general. They had made love in a meadow under the Midnight sun, observed with great interest from a distance by a curious flock of sheep.

This morning Einar hated the idea, that it was his turn to make breakfast. Still sleepy he shuffled into the kitchen and looked at the digital clock on the microwave. It read 07.05.

It had been a very short night. He chuckled at the thought: no, the night had been as long as any other night, it was only a very short night of sleep. But it turned out to become a very long night in passionate, uninhibited, hot love making.

Unfortunately, both their employers weren’t interested in how they spent their nights. The only thing they cared for was, that the two of them appeared at work at the right time. So, short night or not, the alarm went off at the same time as always: 06.30.

He rummaged a bit in the kitchen, got the coffee machine going and put the bread on the table. He heard the shower running, knowing that Stirnir had gratefully used his extra fifteen minutes of slumbering before getting out of bed.

While he was keeping an eye on the two eggs in the boiling water, he heard Stirnir entering the kitchen with his usual:

“Good morning, my love. Slept well?”

Einar heard something funny, something unusual, so he turned around and said yawning:

“A bit short. And you?”

“Same here, but we’ll catch up next night what we lost in sleep”.

There Einar heard it again: it was as if Stirnir was slurring somewhat. He looked at the boy and, half in joke, half seriously, he asked:

“Have you already been drinking under the counter?”

Stirnir looked at him, eyes clearly shocked, and said:

“Drinking? It’s seven in the morning. Even the thought of drinking at this hour makes me vomit! Why do you ask?”

Einar crossed the small kitchen and ended up in front of Stirnir. He cupped his hands in the back of Stirnir’s neck, pushed his brow against the other and kissed Stirnir tenderly on the lips. Somehow, he felt ashamed doing it: it was not only meant as a kiss, but he needed a way to find out if he could smell or taste any alcohol. He genuinely considered it an almost filthy emotion in their intense love, but he simply couldn’t help it: it was suspicion! To his great relief this proved unfounded: there was no trace of alcohol. But there was this slur. What could that be?

“You have a funny slur in your speech. And it wasn’t there yesterday evening. That’s why”, he said.

“Really?” Stirnir reacted surprised, “I didn’t notice it. But now you mention it: I do have this funny feeling in my tongue. As if it is numb, as if I can’t control it properly”.

“Aaaah”, Einar said with his sunlit smile, “Then I know what it is”.

Stirnir looked at him chuckling and said:

“I thought you are an architect, not a doctor”.

“Oh well”, came the witty reply, “We also design hospital buildings!”

“Yeah, sure”, Stirnir laughed, “OK, doctor, tell me: what is it?”

Einar looked cheeky in the sparkling green eyes and whispered:

“You overworked your tongue, sweetie!”

“Overworked my tongue?” Stirnir said with questioning eyes, “How can that be?”

Einar giggled and muttered:

“You tongued too much last night!”

Despite his numb tongue Stirnir roared with laughter and cried out:

“You cute, little animal!”

Einar pressed another kiss on his lips, but suddenly he looked startled when he exclaimed:

“Oh fuck…the eggs!”

He ran back to the counter, looked at the eggs and apologized with an:

“Sorry about that. I guess we have hard-boiled eggs this morning!”

“Doesn’t matter, eggs are eggs!” Stirnir closed the subject.

They had their breakfast, just like every morning. They kissed goodbye to leave for work, they came back home in the afternoon, like they did every day. None of them thought about that funny slur. It might be some side effect from a cold or something, that had to do with some unknown allergy. It would go away in due time.

Neither of them had any idea, that they were wrong. How could they have known that in the first place?

 

Downtown Reykjavik, August 2016

 

Their summer holiday was not what they wanted it to be. It certainly wasn’t the same as the one the year before. They had planned to go trekking through the inlands again, but already on the very first day it became clear, that Stirnir lacked the strength to walk long distances. He tired very fast and after two days of trying they simply decided to do it all by car and only walk short stretches. But they both agreed, that they had a good time, despite the long driving and the little walking.

During the months Stirnir’s slur didn’t disappear. To the contrary: it became more distinct, to the point that the bar tender of the Tikki refused to serve him a beer, thinking that this client had already had enough to drink. They weren’t even offended by it and laughed about it as if it was a good joke.

The slur didn’t develop with big steps. It became worse day by day, every day a tiny bit more, making it a hardly noticeable insidious process, as did the decrease in strength. They didn’t notice it. Or…did they simply unknowingly ignore it out of fear? Was it out of the old human defense mechanism of “If we just pretend it isn’t there, it isn’t there”?.

It didn’t matter, because one sunny August afternoon there was no longer an opportunity left to ignore whatever they wanted to ignore.

For a change Einar was working at home. With all his colleagues in summer holidays he was the only one at the office, so he decided he could as well take his laptop home with him to do some complicated calculations for a new project. He was just halfway them when he heard how the apartment door slammed shut. He looked up in surprise. It was about three in the afternoon, pretty early for Stirnir to come home.

“Is that you, sweetie?” he cried out.

There was no immediate answer but after a few seconds Stirnir walked in…no, he staggered in, as if he was dead drunk!

“What is this?” Einar cried out abashed.

Stirnir looked at him, his green eyes devoid of any sparkling but instead showing fear, terrorizing fear.

“I don’t know!” he said, “I had to make this move during the rehearsal, but my legs … they simply refused to function. And…and…and when I wanted to force them to do it, they started to shake uncontrollably. I don’t know what happened!”

“What did they say at the studio?” Einar asked, feeling how the fear was infecting him as well.

“They asked me what was going on. So…I just told them I made a bad landing after a jump and that I must have sprained my ankle”.

“And then?” Einar wanted to know desperately.

“They told me to go home and give the ankle rest and then they ordered a taxi for me”, was the soft reply.

“What did you have to do, when it started?” Einar asked.

“I had to stand at a certain spot and take a particular position and from there make a move. But...I didn’t even manage to stand on the given spot!” Stirnir almost cried out.

“Take it easy, sweetie!” Einar spoke soothingly, “Just show me!”

He took a piece of paper from the table and laid it on the floor. Then he said:

“OK, this is your spot. Now show me!”

Stirnir tried to get on the piece of paper and take his position. But no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t.

“I have to!” Einar heard him mutter.

Suddenly his legs started to shake. It didn’t seem to stop.

With tears streaming over his cheeks Stirnir yelled:

“I can’t! I goddamn can’t! I can’t do it!”

“Stop it, sweetie!” Einar cried out, “I’ve seen enough! Stop it…!”

Stirnir simply went to pieces: his shoulders slumped and started to shock, his head hung low and he cried as a small child.

“Come here, love”, Einar said gently, taking him in his arms.

“I don’t know what it is, I’ve got no control over it”, Stirnir sobbed, “I’ve got no control over my body!”

“It’s OK”, was the only thing, that Einar could think of to comfort the heartbroken boy, that hung against him.

After a few minutes Stirnir calmed down and Einar said:

“I think...no, I feel that you might have overloaded your body in all these years of training and rehearsing. How old did you start?”

“Seven!” was the quiet answer.

“Yeah, and you’re twenty-three now. That’s sixteen years of hard work. Hey, I’m not a doctor, just a dumb architect, but how about taking a few weeks of complete rest to give your body the chance to recover? But...complete rest: no dancing, no rehearsing, no working out. How about that?”

Stirnir nodded silently.

“OK…good boy!” Einar said with a smile, “Now you just sit down to start with your rest and I’ll make you a tea!”

Acting very self-confident he stroked the unruly blond hair and kissed Stirnir on the tip of his nose, but in his mind the fears, doubts and questions tumbled over one another, fighting for his undivided attention.

 

That same evening, they were in bed. Both felt bone-tired and absolutely sapped of energy. Stirnir lay like a limp rag dol next to Einar, his eyes closed. Einar had no idea if he was really asleep or just lying there, but with the boy’s breathing sounding regular he assumed Stirnir was sleeping.

He wished he could sleep himself. But his brains kept turning at high speed over all the things, that had happened earlier this day, the things that felt like some vague threat to both of their lives. He wished he had some button in his mind, that he could push so that his mind would switch off and sleep would come, just a few hours of oblivion. Maybe there was some button, but it didn’t matter: he couldn’t find it anyway.

Stirnir stirred a bit and Einar heard him whisper:

“My love, will you take me in your arms for a while?”

“Of course I will!” he said, wrapping his arms around Stirnir’s shoulders and pulling his head against his chest.

They lay so for several minutes. Einar didn’t look at his watch for how long they had, because he didn’t want to disturb Stirnir, who was quietly weeping, at least that was the only explanation that Einar could think of for the tear drops he felt rolling over the skin of his chest.

After a while Stirnir muttered, sobbing softly:

“I’m so scared! I’m so damned scared!”

“I’m scared too!” was on the tip of Einar’s tongue, but he swallowed it. It made no sense to say it. Instinctively he knew, that under the present circumstances one of them had to take the lead in their relationship and, since it was Stirnir’s body that started to fail grossly, he knew full well that he was the one to take that lead by default, that he was to be the pillar of strength and wisdom for the time to come and that he was the first person to support his love through this crisis. And that frightened him! He had no idea if he could cope with that burden but figured, that he was about to find out.

“What are you scared of, sweetie?” he asked instead.

Stirnir took a deep sigh and said:

“That I have some disease, that gradually destroys my body, destroys my dream of dancing and destroys my ability to express myself in the only thing in which I can express myself, in dancing. It’s been going on for some months now: the decreasing strength, the fatigue, First I blamed myself, thought I had been too lazy in working out, so I did extra work-outs. But then I found out it didn’t help. And then this pain…”

“Which pain?” Einar asked shocked.

“This pain all over my body. In my legs, my arms, my chest, my shoulders. It’s not there all the time at all these places. It’s like shooting around from place to place. I know it sounds funny, but it feels like a tooth ache in your body”.

“What did you do about it?” Einar exclaimed.

“I took pain killers. I can assure you, that I was becoming a very good client of that pharmacy around the corner”.

“But why didn’t you tell me?” Einar cried out, feeling panic coming up.

“I didn’t dare to”, came the soft, almost ashamed reply.

“Why not?” Einar pressed on in disbelief.

“I…I…”, Stirnir faltered, “I was afraid you might run away from me”.

“You silly boy!” Einar exclaimed.

He pressed Stirnir’s face so hard against his chest, that the boy had to fight briefly for breath.

“Did you really think I would run away for this?” Einar asked, tears in his eyes. He wiped them away before he continued:

“Do you remember our first night together?”

Stirnir only nodded.

“And do you remember what I promised you that night?”

Another nod followed.

“What did I promise you?” Einar asked somewhat stern.

“Your unconditional love, no matter what happened”, Stirnir answered hesitantly.

“Exactly!”, Einar confirmed, “Now, if you had been fooling around with another boy every two weeks, yes…I would go! But not for this, my love! I intend to stick to my promise! Never forget that!”

A silent nod was the only reply.

Einar thought about it briefly and then said:

“Sweetie, maybe you have some illness. But…you know, there are many, many diseases in this world and they have found a cure for all of them. So, if you have some disease, maybe you’ll get some therapy or you have to take pills for the rest of your live, but you will regain your strength and coordination, get rid of the pain and you can dance again”.

Einar knew he was lying. No, that was not the correct word: he was only telling half the truth. Because, besides all these curable diseases there were many more, for which medical science had found no remedy. But with Stirnir already on the edge of despair, saying this would push him over that edge, so Einar simply decided to leave this part of the equation open.

“Stirnir…” he wanted to know, “Have you been to the doctor about this?”

“No”, the brief reply came.

“Why not, sweetie? He can help you!”

Stirnir shrugged and somewhat despondent said:

“This answer is getting boring…but I was too afraid to go. I guess I was scared, that he might tell me something I didn’t want to hear”.

Einar shook his head, kissed Stirnir on the brow and said:

“You stubborn fool!”

“No, not stubborn”, Stirnir sighed, “just a very scared fool!”

“Hey, shall I make an appointment with the doctor first thing tomorrow morning?” Einar asked.

“Yes…but only if you come with me”, Stirnir said, almost begging, but then added:

“I know it sounds dumb, but I’m too scared to go alone”.

“Sure I come with you. I’ll even do the driving”, Einar smiled.

Stirnir lifted his head a little and the green diamond eyes stared in Einar’s, a small glimmer of hope visible between all the sadness they expressed.

“Thank you”, he whispered, “Not just for driving me, but…simply for the fact you are there for me”.

Einar laughed and replied:

“You won’t get rid of me in a long, long time. And, hey…we can beat this and we’ll win. Together we can do everything! Come on, sweetie, let’s see if we can catch some sleep. If you need anything tonight, just wake me up! You’ll do that?”

Stirnir nodded. They kissed good night and Einar switched off the bed lamp. With Stirnir still on his chest they both fell asleep.

 

They had their appointment with the doctor very fast, the next afternoon. But neither of them got any wiser from it. The doctor had listened to the story, of what had happened the months before, made Stirnir walk around and then asked him to stand and lift his arms stretched out from his sides to above his head.

Stirnir did as was told, only to end up with his arms hardly at the height of his hips, shaking uncontrollably.

“OK, OK”, the doctor hurriedly said, “No problem, I’ve seen enough! Can you describe the pain you feel, Stirnir?”

“It feels like a tooth ache in my body”, Stirnir muttered, still panting from the exertion of lifting his arms.

“Say again!” the doctor said with a worried look on his face.

Stirnir repeated his answer and the man made a note on his chart. Then the doctor sat down and said:

“I really don’t know what it is right now. We need some more extensive tests, tests for which I haven’t got the knowhow or the equipment. So, I’m referring you to a neurologist. I’ll make some phone calls to get you a fast appointment at the National University Hospital. Until then: no working, no dancing! Is that clear?”

“Guess I won’t be doing much dancing in my present condition, doc!” Stirnir said with a tired smile.

 

National University Hospital, Reykjavik, August 2016

 

Their doctor had kept his promise: within a week they sat opposite an elderly doctor in a spotless, starched white coat. Einar didn’t have much experience with medical specialists, but the little he had, gave him the idea there was a commonality between them. They all seemed to be curt in their words and all their faces seemed to express a regret, that they had chosen a profession in which they only had to witness human ailments and misery. The neurologist was no exception. And the man and Einar didn’t get off at a good footing right away when the man haughtily asked:

“And who are you in relation to the patient?”

“I’m his partner!” Einar answered matter-of-factly, suppressing upcoming anger.

“Partner in what way?” came the next clipped word question:

“In life and love, if you have no objections to that!” Einar answered terse.

It seemed to warrant his presence in the room, because the doctor nodded without saying a word and went on with what was needed to be done.

Initially the appointment had the same character as the visit to their own doctor. The man wanted to know what had happened during the last months. But then the tests came and they continued for about four hours. Stirnir had to walk, had to lift each leg, each arm, lift both arms and so on. Finally, the neurologist said:

“Well, I will order an EMG for you to find out what is going on!”

Stirnir just nodded, weary as he was from all the pain, emotions and tests. Einar however was more critical and asked:

“What is an EMG, doctor?”

“It is a very extensive test to find out how the muscles react to stimuli, in this case electrical stimuli. In that way we can find out how the nerves transfer them to the brain”.

“How does it work?” Einar asked bluntly.

The doctor looked annoyed but since Einar’s eyes made it very clear that there was no alternative to answering, he said:

“We put small needles all over the body and charge them with electricity. Yes, it is a tough test, not a pleasure at all. But I think it is absolutely necessary”.

Einar sighed. In a way he felt if he was losing hope, but he mentally shook himself up: it was too early to lose hope in the first place! He looked at Stirnir, who just sat with expressionless eyes, as if he was unable to comprehend all that was happening to him. The sight made him almost weep, but the real effect was, that it confirmed him in his overall feeling: he had to be there for Stirnir, support him through all this and then, in the end, they would win together!

The doctor ordered them to the lab for blood tests and to an ophthalmologist for an eye test. Stirnir just seemed to endure it as if all his will was broken, but what the eyes had to do with it went beyond Einar’s comprehension.

 

 

 

 

National University Hospital, Reykjavik, September 2016

 

The test, that was called EMG, turned out to be the horror, almost comparable to sheer torture. Small needles were stuck all over Stirnir’s body, in his fingers, his toes, his arms, shoulders, tongue, legs, eyelids and any other place where you really don’t want needles stuck in, and then charged with electricity. Stirnir had had his share of pain: sprains and lots of heavy muscle pains after hard and long workouts and rehearsals but all this became minor discomforts when compared with the excruciating pain he experienced during this test.

When they rolled him out of the examination room, he was clearly showing exhaustion. Einar was waiting anxiously for him. He kissed Stirnir carefully and asked the ubiquitous question:

“Hi sweetie, how do you feel?”

He regretted it right away: one look at Stirnir made clear that he was feeling like shit.

“It was pure hell”, Stirnir answered softly, “but at least it had one advantage!”

“What was that?” Einar asked surprised.

“When they charged the needles with electricity it felt as if my body was on fire”, Stirnir replied with a weak smile, “But, you know, at least I felt, that it was on fire. That’s more than I have felt in my body in the last months”.

“You cute sweet idiot!” Einar laughed with tears in his eyes, giving Stirnir a firm hug.

This afternoon however both felt extremely tensed when they sat in the waiting room. It was the day, that the doctors had evaluated all the test results and that the two of them would get the verdict, as they had started to call it somewhat cynically among themselves.

As soon as they entered the doctor’s room Einar’s sixth sense detected a kind of sinister, ominous atmosphere. He brought Stirnir, who was in the meantime barely able to walk independently, to a chair and then sat down himself. He looked at the doctor, who kept shuffling through his papers, clearly avoiding any eye contact with his two visitors. The man only muttered something, that, with a lot of good will, could be explained as a “Good afternoon”. Einar had no intention to accept it: they had come to get answers, not to look at a doctor shuffling around in his paperwork.

“Well, doctor, what’s the verdict?” he asked provocative.

The doctor looked at him, clearly annoyed, but since he was given no chance to postpone a reaction, he started to talk:

“I freely admit, that this was a very nasty surprise! I don’t mean you boys, but the diagnosis”.

Einar was in doubt that he had heard it well and asked:

“What do you mean?”

“I have been a neurologist for over thirty years now and as such I know this disease, but only in theory. I’ve never encountered it here on Iceland in all my years of practicing”.

“What is it then?” Stirnir asked with his ever-increasing slur.

The doctor sighed and looked away from them.

“No, doctor”, Einar insisted sharply, “No looking away! What is it?”

The doctor took a deep breath and said:

“It is what we call juvenile ALS. ALS is on itself pretty rare and it starts normally at the age of forty to seventy. But the juvenile variant starts before twenty-five. Only one percent of all ALS patients has this variant, so it is very infrequent”.

“What does it do?” Einar asked, not grasping the consequences of what was said.

“It is very difficult to explain, but it destroys certain elements in the nerve system, that control the muscles. So, the muscles start to degenerate”.

Still not understanding what was coming towards them, Einar laid his hand on Stirnir’s and said:

“You see, sweetie, it’s some disease. Now they’ll give you medication and you can dance again after you have recovered. Ain’t that so, doctor?”

The doctor looked at him, his eyes almost in shock, his mouth open in amazement. Then the man slowly shook his head. Einar saw him do it and he felt, as if a cold fist clamped around his heart.

“What no?” he asked in desperation.

The doctor sighed another time and answered:

“We can’t cure it. We hardly know what is happening in this disease and we don’t know the cause. So there is no cure! We can only give physiotherapy to mitigate the effects on the muscles and pain killers to ease the pain. That’s all we can do”.

“Wait a minute!”, Stirnir uttered with difficulty, “Does that mean I will never dance again?”

Einar’s hand on Stirnir’s started to squeezed it very firmly.

“I’m very, very sorry”, the doctor answered, “But no, you won’t be dancing any longer!”.

“My God!” Einar whispered. He turned to look at Stirnir, who sat motionless in his chair but then he turned his head to face Einar. The expression in that once sparkling diamond green eyes was etched in Einar’s memory forever: they were totally empty and forlorn. It broke his heart to look into them. He squeezed Stirnir’s hand even tighter in a futile attempt to provide some small measure of support after this devastating message. With great difficulty Stirnir said slowly:

“My love, if I can’t dance any more, than I don’t want to live any longer!”

“And where does that leave me?” the thought flashed through Einar’s mind. But he swallowed it again: Stirnir had more than enough on his hands to burden him additionally with his own doubts and fears. He looked to the doctor and asked:

“Where does it lead to, doctor?”

“Do you really want to hear it, my boy?” the man asked with a warm voice, much warmer as Einar had expected from this stern, cool man. He just nodded.

For another time the doctor looked away from him but then he said with a subdued voice:

“Very well. He will paralyze completely and when the muscles, that are needed to breathe, are paralyzed as well…he…he’ll die”.

That did it: Einar felt as if he was losing all control over himself. It was, as if the floor under his feet was torn open and if he was falling free fall through a gaping hole to the darkest crevasses of the center of the earth. He had no idea how long he had been in that state, but sometime he heard the doctor’s voice ask:

“Are you OK, my boy?”

“No, damned”, he whispered, “I’m not OK. How could I feel OK after what you’ve told me?”

But with supreme effort he decided against it. The man was only the messenger of the bad news, he wasn’t the one who had caused it. No matter his thoughts, he recovered somewhat and asked:

“Now what?”

“I’ll arrange a bed for him at the neurology department where we can take care of him until we find a place in a nursing home”, the doctor answered.

“No!” Einar cried out.

The doctor looked at him with eyes full of incomprehension.

“No, no nursing home. I won’t accept that”, Einar said vehemently, “I’ll take him home with me and I will take care of him”.

“Are you sure?” the doctor asked, “You will take a very heavy burden upon you!”

“I know”, Einar said with determination, “And it might even cost me my own health, especially mentally. But he is my one and only love, he’s all I have in this world. And I feel it is my task to take care of him. Even if I have to pay a price myself”.

The doctor seemed to consider it but finally he gave in with a:

“Very well. But you have to promise me two things”.

“What?” Einar asked.

“First: you will accept help from the district nurse. Secondly: if you can’t handle it any longer, let me know. We will then admit him to hospital right away. And you will take care that he gets his physiotherapy. It makes live somewhat easier for him”.

“Agreed”, Einar said matter-of-factly. But he was glad, that the doctor couldn’t see his trembling knees.

“Here’s a prescription for pain medication. And I’ll set up the physiotherapy, organize help from the district nurse and get you a wheelchair. It looks he might need it pretty soon”, the doctor said, giving him a small paper. Then he added with a deep sigh:

“All the strength and luck in the world to the both of you. And we’ll stay in touch”.

Once they were back home very little was said, actually they both stayed silent. Stirnir sat motionless in his chair, his intensely sad eyes staring ahead of them. It hurt Einar to see him that way. It hurt him even more, that he was unable to gauge what went on in Stirnir’s mind.

His own mind was in turmoil, but with an almost inhuman effort he was able to do his thinking in silence. It was no use to disturb Stirnir, so in his head he screamed at nature for developing such a terrible disease, he yelled at medical science for their omittance to develop a medicine for it and he thundered at God, deciding right away, that a God, who was taking all this misery and suffering for granted, was no longer entitled a place in his life.

In early evening Einar felt he was suffocated by all the problems and emotions and that he needed fresh air, some time to think it over.

“Sweetie, I really need some fresh air”, he gently said to Stirnir, “Do you mind if I take a walk for a short while?”

Stirnir only nodded, without saying a word.

“Can you handle it while you are on your own?” Einar asked, “I won’t be long!”

Another silent nod was the only answer.

Einar took his key from the table, kissed Stirnir on the head and wanted to walk to the door, when Stirnir grabbed him by the hand. The boy looked at him, total despair in his eyes and softly asked:

“Will you be coming back?”

Einar looked at him, initially shocked, pulled Stirnir’s head against his body and said:

“Of course I will, silly! I really won’t run out on you. I’ll be back. I just need some fresh air!”

Then he pressed another kiss on Stirnir’s head and with a “Won’t be long!” he left this place of suffering.

 

He just walked around, actually enjoying the fresh air, that he almost sucked in in his lungs as soon as he came out. He had no specific goal but suddenly he realized, that he had ended up at the waterfront of the harbor, coincidentally at exactly the same spot where they had kissed that very first time, when everything was still beautiful and full of hope.

“Yeah, coincidence, you bet!” he muttered under his breath, a wry smile on his face.

He found a bench, sat down and stared over the water, thoughts milling through his mind.

“It can be done”, one of them was. Yes, he had his car keys with him, his wallet with his bank card and credit card, so he could do it. Just not returning, rent another place to live, buy new clothes and furniture. He could choose for himself, simply start a new life of his own, without pain, without frustration and suffering and, maybe the most important, without having to be witness to the total destruction of that once gorgeous boy! It would make his life a lot easier.

Would it?

Would he be able to live with the guilt of abandoning Stirnir in his almost helpless condition? Would he be able to look at himself in the mirror each morning if he did so? Could he still bear with his own eyes, when they stared back at him from that mirror? Would his eyes still be human then, or would the reflection send back the image of the eyes of a rat to him?

“Have you sunk so deeply that you would abandon him in his present state, you filthy rat?” he said to himself, unknowingly quiet loud. The thought was enough to make him retch, the bile already burning in his throat.

A young couple, boy and girl, coincidentally passed him when he said it, both looking annoyed at him.

“Sorry….”, he stammered, “I was thinking out loud. It was not meant for the two of you. Excuse me!”

Shaking their head both walked on, leaving Einar red-faced with shame, feeling himself like the regular city fool.

It was such an enticing idea to just walk out of it all and lead another carefree, frolicking life. But, would his life then be really carefree? Or would he have to live with guilt, with a burning conscience, that he couldn’t just erase and that would trouble him every day and each night until his dying day came?

“You just can’t say you love someone and then just leave him to his own, very limited devices”, he murmured, carefully keeping his voice down to prevent another shameful event, “It’s immoral, lowly, dastardly and it’s bordering to a criminal act. Time of frolicking is over, it’s about time to act like an adult and accept your responsibilities”.

He sighed, felt how some tears rolled over his cheeks and swept them away.

“I’m going back!” he whispered, “I’ll take care of him as long as it is possible or as long as he lives”.

The matter definitely settled he rose, stretched himself and walked back home.

When he came home, he felt like he was rewarded for doing so. He found Stirnir looking at him with almost sparkling eyes, not as sparkling as they had once been but much and much brighter as when he had left and with a smile around his lips, that gave him vague reminiscences of the evening he had first met him.

“You came back!” he said.

“Of course I did”, Einar replied, feeling a bit uncertain, “I promised I would come back”.

“You have been crying, haven’t you?”

Einar nodded in silence.

“Doesn’t matter”, Stirnir said, “You’re human, not a block of cold marble, that can absorb all abuse. Have you been thinking of running away?”

Einar dropped his eyes and wondered if Stirnir was able to read thoughts. He decided not to lie about it and replied:

“The thought has crossed my mind, yes!”

“That’s normal, my love. And I can’t blame you”, Stirnir reacted with a deep sigh, “Who wants to spend his life with a wreck?”

“Shut up, Stirnir!” Einar said sharp, “You’re not a wreck! You’re still the same beautiful person I met. Yes, you’re ill, but love is not only about health and a great body. Love is more. So, because of that: yes, I’ve considered walking away in a moment of weakness, but I decided to stay and stick to my promise I once made you!”

He took Stirnir’s head in his hands, pulled the boy again against his body and kissed him on the head, holding him in his arms for a short while.

“Thank you”, he heard him whisper, “I love you!”

“I love you too, sweetest”, Einar said, “But now for something completely different: are you hungry?”

“Somewhat…despite all what happened today”, Stirnir smiled weakly.

“OK, sweetie, then I’ll start my role as cook-of-duty and make us something to eat. You like that?” Einar asked cheerfully.

“Yes”, Stirnir said with still slightly sparkling eyes.

 

Downtown Reykjavik, January 2018

 

It is no fun at all to describe the degradation of Stirnir’s body in detail. It gives no pleasure to go into each and every trifle about all the pain, both physically and mentally, that he and Einar were going through with each small step of loss of bodily functions. And there is no joy in describing how Einar had to feed Stirnir spoon by spoon or help him to drink tea by holding the cup against his lips. One can only summarize it as total despair.

Einar did what he could. He was really lucky with the help he got from the district nurse, Miss Valdisardottir, a middle-aged woman, who came each morning to do the more complicated things, like washing a paralyzed patient and dress him for the day. Besides, Miss Valdisardottir didn’t limit her work to Stirnir, but she talked to Einar as well, trying to give him strength and support and keeping him updated on the developments of the disease. One morning, while she was leaving after all was done, she said:

“I think you are a very brave boy, Einar!”

Einar looked at her in disbelief and cried out:

“Brave? Forget it! I’m scared to death!”

She had just looked at him with warm, kind eyes and had replied:

“That is only normal. Don’t forget you’re only human. And there’s not that many of your age who are at the point of losing their beloved one. So, it is perfectly normal you are scared. I would be, I can tell you!”

With her hand on his cheek, she continued:

“You’re doing just great, brave boy!”

But for the rest of the day Einar had to cope with it alone. If Stirnir had to go to the toilet, he had to bring him there, had to hold his dick when he had to pee or had to wipe off his ass after a shit. He had to cook, wash, clean up, do the shopping, all the chores they had normally divided between the two of them in better days. And he sat long hours beside Stirnir, just talking to him and holding his limp hand.

Day after day made Einar feel he was more and more exhausted. He wanted to carry on as long as possible, postponing the moment that Stirnir had to be brought to a nursing home, for the simple reason that his caretaker was no longer available after collapsing.

Maybe it was sheer coincidence or maybe Stirnir suspected something, because one evening, when he lay on bed, Einar next to him, gently stroking his hand, he said:

“My love, we need to talk!”

“Sure, sweetie”, came the cheerful reaction, “What do you want to talk about?”

“About me, about us, about all of it”.

Einar looked at him, not knowing what to expect but as a precaution he said:

“As long as you don’t come with this crap, that I must save myself and just leave you alone!”

“No, I won’t”, Stirnir said, managing a tired smile.

“What then?” Einar wanted to know.

“Just listen before you react”, Stirnir said, “We have to talk now, since I am still able to talk, although with great difficulty, and I still have my common senses. When I have lost that as well, it is going to be difficult”.

“Why would you lose your common sense?” Einar asked.

“My days as a dancing god are over, my love, but even I can google”, Stirnir said, “It is the next phase of this fucking disease, the phase of dementia!”

“Come on”, Einar objected, “You’re hardly twenty-five, not eighty-nine”.

“It’s not Alzheimer”, Stirnir explained, “but another form of dementia, caused by brain damage, when this damned disease starts attacking my brains as well. So, I’ll grow demented!”

“Jeez”, Einar hissed between his teeth.

“But it won’t come that far”, Stirnir continued, “You know, even the old Greeks acknowledged any person’s right to die in dignity at a time of his own choosing. Don’t ask me why, but we western peoples developed another view on that. A view that is all very well when you’re healthy and lucky, but of no use for someone like me or someone, who is suffering from terminal cancer or some other terrible disease I don’t know”.

He took a long pause, the talking visibly tiring him, but then he came to the point:

“I have no pleasure what so ever and very little dignity left in my life. I told you when we got the diagnosis: if I can’t dance no more, I don’t want to live any longer. Dancing is my life and I still miss it every day. As far as dignity is concerned…don’t get me wrong, I’m not blaming you for it. Rationally I can understand that it has to be done. But I’m not really happy when you have to wipe my ass when I’ve shitted, like I was a new-born baby. And I don’t relish it when you have to feed me spoon by spoon, as if I was a two years old toddler. When I have to go to a nursing home my dignity will sink to zero. And if I become demented, there’s no dignity left as well. So…I won’t accept both of them. I simply choose my own time of death. Just to say it in normal words: I commit suicide”.

Despite the fact he was fighting with his tears, Einar asked:

“But, how will you do that? Forgive me for saying so, sweetest, but you can only move a couple of fingers”.

“I know”, Stirnir said more self-confident than he had been for months, “Let’s start with the technical side. There’s a pot of ultra-heavy painkillers in the kitchen cabinet. I doubt that, if someone takes them all in one go, there is little chance of survival left, don’t you think so?”

Einar nodded, but the question of how Stirnir wanted to do it was still unanswered as far as he was concerned.

“And about how to do it…”, Stirnir said with a sigh, “That is where you come in!”

Einar looked at him in shock.

“Are you serious?” he yelled out.

Stirnir’s green eyes made it perfectly clear he was dead-serious.

“But that’s murder!” Einar objected.

“No, it isn’t”, Stirnir replied soothingly, “Murder requires premeditation, malicious or criminal intent and you would kill me without my permission. In this case it is also premeditated, but there’s no malicious or criminal intent and I would welcome my death. It would be an act of kindness, of mercy. Actually, I beg you to help me in doing this. I have enough of living! And what is the difference, my love? If I don’t take my own life, death will overtake me a short while later. Maybe a few weeks or a few months, I don’t know, but with more misery and no dignity at all”.

“All very well, these legal niceties” Einar said, shaking his head, “But I would kill you, no matter how you look at it!”

“No, my love, I would be killing myself. You only have to give me the means to do it. Please, don’t let me down on this. I want to die! I really do!”

Einar just stared at a spot on the wall, not seeing anything really. His eyes were clogged by the tears. After a deep breath he said:

“I have to think it over. It is not something to decide right away. Don’t get me wrong: I didn’t say no, but I haven’t said yes yet. I just have to think it over!”

“I can understand that”, Stirnir said, “I’m not pressing you, my love, but don’t take too long. My body doesn’t tell me much, but it tells me time is running out”.

 

Einar did think it over. He thought so much about it, that he had trouble to concentrate on the myriad of things, that needed to be done during the day. It felt so unnatural to him: “just” helping the one, he loved, to kill himself. For him it was the exact opposite of love.

But gradually his train of thought took some switch to end up on another track. Was it really the opposite of love? Or was a denial to Stirnir’s request only aimed at keeping away from the pain it would bring, only to avoid the grieve it would surely bestow upon him? Could saying no only be considered as selfish? It would rob Stirnir of a dignified death and would only serve to prolong his pains and sufferings until “natural” death would come. And as Stirnir had made quite clear: death would come anyway and with it the inevitable pain and grieve for himself, the only difference being the moment his sorrow would start.

Since he was no fool, he also considered the possible consequences. What if somebody got wind of his help at the suicide? The person would probably report it to the police, he would be arrested, trialed by a court and if luck really went sour, he was to serve a number of years in jail.

“So what?” he murmured, “Doesn’t make much difference. There’s nobody waiting for me at home! The place will be empty without Stirnir”.

With a wry smile on his face, he added:

“Actually, being in jail might be more sociable than being at home!”

It was just part of the price he had to pay to save Stirnir from further agony.

He was sure he would never forget at what ridiculous place he finally came to his decision. He was doing the shopping, still absorbed in his reflections, when he made up his mind, in the middle of the supermarket, right between the vegetables and the shelves with coffee and tea.

“I’ll do it!” he said softly to himself, “I owe it to him!”

He rushed home, went to Stirnir, who lay on the bed, eyes closed.

“Sweetie”, he cried out, “Do you remember what we talked about a few evenings ago?”

Stirnir opened his eyes and with a tired smile he answered:

“Of course I do. It was not exactly small talk we did, was it?”

Einar shook his head and simply blurred it out:

“I’ll do it! I’ll help you”.

The tired smile on Stirnir’s face changed as if by magic to his old, enchanting and breathtaking smile, the one which made Einar fall in love with him in the first place. The green eyes sparkled like diamonds in a way they hadn’t done in many, many months. Using all the strength he could muster, Stirnir said:

“Thank you! Thank you, my loving angel! Thank you, my loving angel of mercy!”

“It’s very hard to refuse something to a boy as wonderful as you”, Einar said, tears in his eyes.

He took the almost completely paralyzed boy in his arms, kissed him time after time and then said:

“As far as the time is concerned: that’s up to you! Just give me the word!”

Stirnir just nodded weakly, indicating that the sudden surge of emotion had exhausted him. Einar held him in his arms, wondering if he could find the strength to actually do it. But he had decided and he wouldn’t let Stirnir down. He was in for a penny, so he was in for a pound as well!

 

Downtown Reykjavik, March 12^th 2018

 

The day had been as exhaustive as any other since Stirnir had fallen ill. The only extraordinary and almost catastrophic thing, that had happened, was that Stirnir nearly choked when Einar was giving him his dinner. But Einar’s quick reaction saved him for more trouble. However, it was very clear, that even this tiny function, that nobody consciously thinks about, was malfunctioning as well. For the remaining time Einar would have to consider the deteriorating swallowing reflex when giving Stirnir a bite to eat or his cup of tea.

After Einar had read Stirnir a chapter of one of his favorite novels, they were in bed, just cuddling, hugging and kissing before they would go to sleep. By now it was one way-traffic with Einar doing the cuddling and Stirnir, almost completely incapable of any movement at all, only enjoying the caressing but it was all that was left to them.

This enjoyment seemed more than sufficient to trigger something in Stirnir, something that Einar didn’t think possible any longer, because without any warning he wheezed:

“I need you!”

Einar looked at him in shock.

“Just love me one last time, now we still have the chance!” Stirnir uttered softly.

Einar shook his head, not in denial but in disbelief.

“But, my sweetest”, he protested, “You are too ill. We can’t do it. I would feel terribly guilty if I would ask you to!”

Now Stirnir shook his head in protest. His green eyes looked penetrating when he said in an almost begging tone:

“Just have sex with me for this last time, please! We can still do it!”

Einar stared at the ceiling, feeling utterly distraught. It was not that he didn’t want to. He loved their intimate togetherness and their loving, but there was this feeling that withheld him from doing it: he found it by far too inhuman to expect it from Stirnir.

He stared in Stirnir’s feverishly sparkling eyes and said, barely audible:

“Don’t do this to yourself and me, my sweetest. I still love you dearly, don’t you doubt that. It’s just…you demand too much of yourself if you ask me to do that!”

“Just do it!” Stirnir said determined, “Consider it as our own way of celebrating the physical parting, that will come. As our own way of saying goodbye”.

The words were spoken without cynicism or mockery; Stirnir was deep serious about it. His eyes gleamed in determination and his voice was that forceful, that there was no misunderstanding possible to what he wanted.

“No, you aren’t going to die yet!” Einar protested meekly.

“Liar!” Stirnir chuckled, “Yes, I am. And it won’t be long. And I told you before: if I have to live like I do now, without my dancing, with this hellish pain and this dependency, like some plant that is waiting for water because it can’t walk to the water tap itself, then I don’t want to live any longer. As far as I am concerned this sex can kill me right away. Now that would be a beautiful death. So, my love…love me one last time!”

The last words were exclaimed like an order.

“Well, OK”, Einar sighed in resignation.

He had no idea at all where the next thirty minutes might lead to. But he knew damned well he was in emotional splits and that he would end up with a feeling of guilt for the rest of his life. If Stirnir would overburden himself, then he would feel guilty that he had agreed with the whole idea in the first place, knowing how ill the boy was and despite the fact that Stirnir had asked…no, literally begged for it. And if all the stress was too much for him, resulting in the fact he was unable to get in a state of arousal, he would feel guilty that he had refused this last, yearning intimate appeal.

The outcome became very clear very fast. No matter what he tried, his genitals remained limp so he decided to limit the whole thing to give Stirnir a blowjob to give him at least the idea, that he still loved him very, very much.

But even that was akin to mental torture. In all his years of sex he had made the whole range of noises and sounds: he had giggled in seduction, moaned, groaned and squealed out of lust, had panted, roared and screeched at cumming. Never before he had felt sex as something sad, never before he had wept while doing it. This was the first time that it happened to him and he experienced it as a very strange sensation, deep sadness mixed with joy.

While he licked and sucked gently at Stirnir’s completely aroused phallus, the tears rolled over his cheeks. They clogged his nose and with the big dick tip in his mouth, breathing became difficult. But he persisted. The last thing he wanted was to let the love of his life down in this last act of intimacy between them. Fortunately, it seemed to please Stirnir, at least the noises he made indicated that. And, when he was honest, despite the tears it felt like heaven! It had been so long that his tongue had tickled over Stirnir’s most intimate part. It seemed like an eternity, that he had tasted the precum. Never before had he given such an intense blowjob with so much devotion and selflessness.

When Stirnir’s culmination came, Einar greedily sucked the white gold in, in the knowledge it would be the very last sperm his love would give him. He enjoyed its taste for the final time before he swallowed it all. It was delightful and heartbreaking at the same time.

Still panting from the effort Stirnir whispered:

“I’m so sorry I can’t return the favor, my love”.

“It doesn’t matter”, Einar replied, wiping away the tears from his reddened eyes, “I would have loved to give you more, but I simply couldn’t”.

“I understand”, Stirnir said gently, “I think, I might have over-asked you. Just take me in your arms and rock me to sleep. Will you do that for me?”

Einar nodded, muttering:

“Come here, sweetie. Come and lay with me and slide into slumber. I love you so incredibly much”.

“Even in this condition?” Stirnir asked with a cynical smile.

“Now watch what you are saying”, Einar replied, “before you have the last fight as well!”

Stirnir shook his head slowly, his smile changing to good-humored.

“No“, he said, “we don’t want to have that, do we? Besides, I think I haven’t got the energy for it”.

In a tender and dear embrace Einar rocked Stirnir to sleep. It didn’t take long, the boy clearly being exhausted. He himself needed much more time to fall asleep. Hurricanes of emotions swirled through his head and the flood of tears was beyond stopping. At least he knew now which guilt he had to carry with him for the rest of his life, as one of many!

 

Downtown Reykjavik, March 15^th 2018

 

They had had their dinner and Einar had finished washing the dishes, so he sauntered at leisure to the bedroom, where Stirnir lay on the bed with his eyes closed.

“Are you asleep, sweetie?” Einar asked in a low whisper.

Stirnir shook his head.

Einar took the book from the night stand and asked cheerfully:

“Shall I read you the next chapter of the book?”

“No!” was the brief answer.

“What do you want to do then, sweetie?” was the logical next question.

Stirnir opened his eyes and looked in Einar’s. His answer hit Einar like a sledgehammer:

“In the last weeks my breathing has become weaker and more difficult. It means, that the disease is now attacking my chest muscles, the muscles I need to breathe. When they are paralyzed, I can’t breathe at all”.

He stopped talking for a moment. Einar felt himself getting cold and warm at the same time. The ominous message would come soon.

“You know, my love, after all I have endured, I can’t say I fancy the idea of suffocation. So, what I really mean to say, is: it is time!”

Einar nodded without saying something. He had seen it coming.

He took a deep breath and said:

“Then…then I’ll make things ready, sweetest!”

“Yes, do that”, Stirnir replied.

Einar walked back to the kitchen, but just as he was about to leave the bedroom, turned around and hung against the door post.

“Sweetie…I really can’t say it is a happy occasion, but I think it is only fair to say, that it is a very special occasion. So…”

“So?” Stirnir asked with a vague smile.

“So…, I bought the most expensive bottle of cognac I could find to give it a special cachet. I know, it sounds silly. Would you like some?”

Stirnir’s vague smile transformed into a broad one when he said:

“Yes, it is a very special occasion. I can appreciate, that it is not a very happy one for you. For you the pain and sorrow are about to start. But, my love, I consider it as that something very happy is about to take place. Finally, I will be liberated from pain and from living like a dying plant. So, yes, let’s celebrate this special evening. I would love some cognac!”

“I’ll be right back!” Einar replied with a forced smile.

He went back to the kitchen, took the bottle of cognac and two cognac glasses from one of the cabinets, the jar of pain killers from another and filled a large glass with water. He had checked the pot’s contents: there were forty-one pills in it.

With buckling knees he went back to the bedroom. His hands were shaking a bit when he poured cognac in the glasses.

He gave Stirnir the glass against his lips so that he could take a sip. His smile clearly showed, that he still enjoyed it.

“My love, before I go, there are some things we have to talk about”, he said.

Einar nodded, frantically fighting back the tears.

“First”, Stirnir started, “the practical things. Under my laptop you will find an envelope. It contains a statement in case the authorities start to bother you about your possible participation. In it I state, that my disease, present condition and prospects were such, that I decided to commit suicide. You’re not even mentioned in it. I took all responsibility and blame. No need to let you pay for my decision”.

“Thank you, sweetest”, Einar muttered, in a way impressed and grateful, a way he couldn’t understand.

“Then, “Ballet of Rainbows”, Stirnir continued after a long pause, “I would have loved to dance it myself, but fate decided otherwise. There’s a full choreography in the right desk drawer. Give it to Daniel in the ballet company. In my professional opinion he’s the only one who can do it”.

Einar nodded. He didn’t need to write it down. He would always remember this last talk!

Stirnir took another long pause, visibly fighting for air.

“You want another sip of cognac, sweetest”, Einar asked with a shaky voice, close to crying.

The only answer was a tired nod, so Einar put the glass back to Stirnir’s lips.

When Stirnir had his sip, clearly enjoying it, he said softly:

“My love, will you lay my hand in yours?”

Einar bit his lower lip until it bled in a superhuman effort to choke back the tears and did as was asked.

“Thank you…”, Stirnir said, “You know, Einar? As much as this disease was the worst disaster, that hit me during my life, you are the best thing that happened to me. I loved you from the very first second in the Tikki and I was not mistaken. I love you, I still love you!”

In a seemingly totally illogical reaction Einar giggled.

“Why are you laughing, my love?” Stirnir asked, smiling in amusement.

“Suddenly I remember, that I lied to you that evening”, Einar answered.

“How that?”

“Well,” Einar answered, “Do you remember I told you I tried to watch ballet on tv as much as possible?”

Stirnir nodded.

Giggling Einar continued:

“To tell you the truth: I had never seen a second of ballet in whatever place. I just wanted to impress you, hoping that something would grow from it”.

“You cute little rascal!” Stirnir chuckled.

They kept silent for a while, both enjoying the sweet memory of their meeting. Then Stirnir said:

“Einar, my love, promise me one thing. Promise me you won’t succumb to grieve for ever. Of course, you will feel pain and sorrow the coming time, but don’t get bogged down in it. Just go on with living your life and find yourself a new love, who makes you happy. I admit: I’ll envy that guy! But my envy doesn’t matter. Just live your life. I’ll be happy when you think of me so every now and then. But I thank you for all your love from the bottom of my heart”.

“I promise”, Einar whispered, “And you will be forever in my heart. Some new love will just have to accept that, provided that it will ever happen!”

“I need a short break now!” Stirnir said, fighting for breath.

Einar nodded, tenderly stroking Stirnir’s hand. After some minutes he said:

“You can rest, just listen. I have something to say as well. You know…yes, I also want to thank you for all your love. I loved being in its sunlight. But there’s something else I want to thank you for”.

Stirnir looked questioningly at him.

“I always thought of myself I was a flyer, a weakling. As soon as things got tough, I tended to run away. But this time…you simply taught me I’m much stronger than I knew myself. You taught me I can handle difficult situations. So…there’s more to thank you for than only for your love, but don’t get me wrong: that’s the most important thing I am incredibly grateful for”.

With a smile Stirnir whispered:

“Just kiss me, my love!”

They kissed, long and intense. Then Stirnir said:

“I would love to have another cognac. And I suggest that after that we start with…how do I call it?…with the procedure!”

After they had their last cognac together Einar put Stirnir in a comfortable position. Then he embraced him. He craved for Stirnir’s arms around him as well, but knew that was impossible.

“Have a good voyage to that world beyond the rainbow, my sweetest Stirnir. And know that I love you with all my heart”, he whispered, feeling how he was losing his battle against the tears.

“Thank you. And you, Einar, love of my life: farewell! Make sure you become happy again! I love you!”

Their last kiss followed. Yes, the first kiss along that waterfront was never to be forgotten, but this last one was even of greater importance.

With trembling fingers Einar opened the jar of pain killers and the first of them was laid in Stirnir’s mouth. Then the next, again the next. Einar had to be careful. It would do no good if Stirnir choked on one of the pills. It made it an agonizingly slow process, pill after pill! It was that agonizingly, that Einar started to wish it could go faster, not as a cold and indifferent “to get it over with”-attitude, but because he felt his courage and determination diminishing with each new pill, that Stirnir took. It seemed to take hours, but finally all forty-one pills were taken.

Stirnir looked at him and almost inaudibly asked:

“Do you realize what you just did?”

Einar looked in the green diamond eyes in shock. With a re-assuring smile Stirnir lisped:

“No, my love, nothing terrible. To the contrary: you just gave me the ultimate proof of your unconditional love, no matter what happens. Thank you for that. Thank...you…I love you…! Farewell!”

While he spoke these last words Stirnir’s voice trailed off and his diamond eyes closed. Einar had no idea what happened: was he just falling into some kind of slumber or in a coma? Or was he gliding in…?

Einar’s brain refused to think that last word.

He lay beside Stirnir and watched the boy, whose breathing continued, although it was very clear, that it took more and more effort.

Einar decided to watch over him. He wanted to be there when the final moment came. But nothing peculiar happened. Maybe Stirnir was just asleep. His breathing still continued. Maybe the pills were not enough.

“What then?” Einar’s mind flashed in panic.

He kissed Stirnir cautiously and stroke through the long blond hair. However, no matter how much he wanted to wake, he was overwhelmed by physical, mental and emotional exhaustion and drifted off in a deep sleep. His last conscious thought was, that his finger was stroking Stirnir’s cheek.

 

He started to wake up, because his sub-consciousness warned him, that something out of the ordinary was happening, that something cold was beside him in the bed. He had no idea at all how long he had slept, but still sleep-drunk, he shook his head clear and opened his eyes, focusing them in the direction of this source of coldness. They ended on Stirnir!

Although he could have expected it, Einar nevertheless felt shocked. He stared intently to Stirnir’s chest for a few minutes, waiting for his breathing. The chest didn’t move any longer.

Einar’s finger stroked over Stirnir’s cheek: it felt incredibly cold and the always light-tanned skin had turned to a palid white. The normally wild long hair hung limp and lifeless along the head.

“You went over the rainbow, sweetie!” he whispered, knowing nothing else to say.

He started to stroke Stirnir’s hair and with an intensely sad smile he said:

“Even your hair is no longer unruly!”

He studied Stirnir’s peaceful face for a while. Even the gorgeous smile, the same that hit him like lightning in the Tikki, was around his lips, as if he had been happy, when he died. Einar kissed the cold forehead and then the cold lips with a whispered:

“Farewell, sweetest man in the world!”

The sparkle had extinguished at the age of twenty-five.

Einar fell apart emotionally.

When he became quiet again, after a long time of crying, he looked at his watch. It read 08.38, so their doctor must be already in the practice. He knew he had to call him, he knew that some doctor had to certify the death. With a sigh he took his cell phone and pushed the pre-set.

 

The doctor was there in about fifteen minutes. He checked Stirnir’s body for pulse, heart beat and that kind of things and then shook his head with sympathizing eyes:

“Sorry, son. There’s nothing I can do for him anymore. He’s gone!”

Einar just nodded. He didn’t need any medical study to see that.

The doctor grabbed in his case, took some form from it and started to fill it out. When he was ready, he gave the form to Einar and said:

“The funeral home will need this when they report his decease to the city council”.

Then the elderly man laid his hand on Einar’s shoulder and said kindly:

“The two of you had a very bad time. I hope it comforts you a little bit, that Stirnir is no longer suffering. For you it is just about to start. I wish you all strength it the world!”

While the doctor packed his stuff in the case, Einar looked at the form. Under the head “Type of Death” the box “Natural Death” was neatly crossed, while under “Cause of Death” it read:

“Acute respiratory failure based on paralysis of intercostal muscles and/or thoracic diaphragm based on final stage ALS”.

It was as simple as that: no doubts raised and no questions asked. Einar couldn’t help but admire Stirnir for his thorough planning and delicate timing of the “procedure”, as he had called it.

From the corner of his eyes, he saw Miss Valdisardottir come in at about the time, that the doctor was leaving. They had a short talk in the hall, but Einar was not interested in what they said.

After the doctor left the district nurse came to him with a warm look in her eyes. The only thing she said was:

“Come here, Einar. I guess you need a shoulder to cry on!”

Yes, he did! And he seized the opportunity with both hands.

After another round of gushing tear-shedding he whispered:

“I guess he’s happy now. Maybe he can even dance”.

The nurse nodded and said:

“Yes, I know he can. How about if I wash him and dress him in the clothes you want him to wear?”

Einar nodded, replying

“Yes. Dress him in his ballet clothes. He would have loved that!”

 

Bæjarfjall Peninsula, near Straumness Lighthouse, Iceland, March 15^th 2019

 

The circle of the story closes.

As was to be expected life was rough for Einar in the period immediately after Stirnir’s death. He felt lonely and depressed, was mourning day and night and all kinds of small things and happenings seemed to trigger memories of happy times but also of the times of agony.

But with the passing of time another emotion developed: it was a feeling of relief, relief from the unbearable burden and responsibility of caring for his very sick and slowly dying love. Initially he felt guilty about it. To him it felt as indifference over the loss of Stirnir but he could not suppress this surging relief. Actually, it gave him the space for mourning: there were no competing priorities any longer, like always trying to show strength, when he cried his heart out during the lonely nights. At times when he felt bad, it gave a bit of counterweight of feeling good and it gave him a measure of freedom for emotional breathing. Gradually he understood it: Stirnir was relieved of pain and illness, he was relieved of the responsibilities and the continuous fear for what the next stage of the disease might be.

Exactly one year after Stirnir died, Einar climbed the hill on his own. When he arrived, he sat down on a boulder, but, being restless, he rose pretty soon and stood, waiting for the Northern Lights to appear.

When they finally came it hurt him deeply. It reminded him of happier days, when he had stood here, together with Stirnir. Days, in which hopes were high: their professional hopes, and, of by far greater importance, their hopes for a long life together. And now, he was here all on his own. Stirnir had gone, not by choice, but because some dreadful disease had forced him to do so.

Knowing that he was all alone here, Einar let his tears flow freely, without shame. And, although it sounded weird, he started talking to the one who was not there, the one who was so sorely missed:

“Hæ, sweetheart. It’s been a long time since we talked. I just wanted you to know I miss you! It hurts without you. There’s not a moment, that you’re out of my thoughts. But…on the bright side: Daniel did the premiere of the “Ballet of Rainbows” in Reykjavik last week. It was a huge success. It became a standing ovation, during which the light crew projected your picture. And then that damned Daniel literally dragged me on stage, which was quiet embarrassing, because by then I was in tears. Hey, I would have preferred that you had danced it, but real life had other plans, I guess. They want to do another five performances in Reykjavik and then they take it on tour in Europe. Ain’t that great, my sweetest?”

He wiped the tears away and took a deep breath before he continued:

“They asked me what I wanted to do with the money, that came in from it. I don’t want it. I just told them to donate it to some foundation, that finances ALS research. I know…”

Another waterfall of tears followed, but Einar regained his strength and continued:

“I know, it’s too late to be of any good to you…or maybe I should say: too late to help us. But at least it will help other people in the future!”

He wiped his tears away for another time, still staring at the lights on the northern skies. But suddenly, he startled visibly and he stared intensely to the skies.

“Am I losing it?” he whispered to himself.

He was certain! He saw a man dancing in the flickering, undulating bands of blue and green hues. No, it was not just any man dancing: it was Stirnir!

“Hæ, my sweetest”, he whispered, his face in a blissful smile, “How are you up there in that other universe over the rainbow?”

He absorbed the image his eyes registered, while the tones of “At the Gates of Delirium” drifted through his mind, savoring each gracious and delicate movement Stirnir’s image made.

“You’re dancing again!” he cried out, jumping up and down in excitement, “My sweetest, you’re dancing again! That’s so incredibly wonderful. You’re dancing your own “Ballet of Rainbows”.

Slowly the image vanished, the music went out of his head and the Northern Lights faded in the ink-black darkness of the night.

Einar just stood there for a while, staring at the point where he was certain he had seen Stirnir dancing. His face showed a heavenly smile.

Only after a while he made up his mind: Stirnir was happy in that other universe. The thought gave him the strength to scramble up and to get on with his own life, a life in which Stirnir would remain forever as a fond, warm memory.

Smiling and humming he turned around and walked back to his old Volvo.

 

The ballet “Ballet of Rainbows” was a real success all over Europe and even America and quiet some money was transferred to the ALS research foundation. But more important: after a while Einar found the courage to start a new life with a new love. While working closely with him during rehearsals, Einar became very good friends with Daniel, the young dancer who danced Stirnir’s ballet.

“It looks as if I have some soft spot for ballet dancers”, he giggled when he realized, that he felt really attracted to the boy. With a glance on Stirnir’s picture he said with naughty eyes:

“Or did you plan it that way, you wicked boy?”

And since the attraction turned out to be completely mutual it was only a matter of time that their friendship changed into something of a higher level of emotional attachment. And it didn’t stay “emotional” only!

But despite all that, the picture of Stirnir in a flying cabriolé remained prominently on the wall of the small apartment’s living room, with always fresh flowers underneath. And it was the only thing in his new relation, about which he did not particularly care, how Daniel felt about it.