The Music of the Ice

Music of the Ice

Two Soft Things Rubbing Together

This is my Lesbian Sex story for the Literotica April Fools Story Contest 2025. As part of the contest rules, you should expect surprise meetings, humor, trick endings, and other themes of deception, chance, and/or misunderstandings (happy or otherwise). The sex scenes in this story are subdued, so if that interests you, please enjoy one of the other fine stories in the contest.

I attended the 20th Annual Ice Music Festival in 2025 in Ilulissat, Greenland. While there, I noticed permits are required for hiking many of the trails, and remembered the old adage, 'Take only Memories. Leave only Footprints.' In Greenland, the Arctic landscape is so fragile it is easily damaged by footprints. I left with plenty of memories but wondered if the people I met were left with memories of me. That is the inspiration for what you are about to read.

This is the fictional story of Leah, a young woman from Norway, who considers herself a wandering spirit. But she does not tell her story. Rather, through a series of Vignettes, the people she met recount their memories of Leah's visit. Because there is no omnipresent narrator, you should expect a few gaps in the story, so please use your imagination. Names, events, and conversations have been altered or invented by the author and should not be considered real. For clarity, each chapter identifies the date, the location, and the person providing the Vignette. Your comments are especially welcome.

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Chapter One

Saturday Evening

A flat in Geilo, Norway

POV - Anne, a flatmate of the main character, Leah

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I returned to the flat just before 22:00 after helping the rest of the kitchen staff at the Vestlia Resort clean up after another busy evening. Upon entering, I looked over at my flatmate, Leah, and then held up a small paper sack. She smiled, knowing what it meant.

"What did you bring me tonight?" she asked.

"Mozartkule."

"Yum!"

Mozart Balls were invented by an Austrian confectioner in 1890, who happened to be a fan of the famous composer. They are popular with tourists to Salzburg and come wrapped in blue and silver foil bearing an image of Mozart. A round core of pistachio marzipan is surrounded by a layer of chocolate hazelnut nougat, then wrapped in a layer of plain marizpam, and finally coated in dark chocolate. Ours are made by hand at the Vestlia restaurant.

The Vestlia is the nicest hotel in the ski town of Geilo, Norway. Its restaurant is considered the finest, and the head chef is renowned throughout Norway. Coming from the Normandie region of France, I was already an experienced chef, but in gastronomy, one can always learn new things.

Leah reached for the bag, but I snatched it away. "For later. Right now, I smell like smoked ling, chanterelles, and black cabbage. I'm taking a shower first."

I placed the bag on my dresser and waved my finger back and forth to let Leah know that disobedience would not be tolerated. Removing my clothing, I stood naked and gave my newly freed breasts a quick rub. As Leah watched, I offered her a smile, grabbed a towel, and walked from our shared bedroom down the short hallway into the shared WC.

Ten minutes later, I returned sans towel. At thirty-one, I was three years older than Leah. Whether due to those extra years or perhaps my employment, I have a nicely rounded figure that includes something Leah lacks, namely breasts. My full C-cups bounce seductively as I walk, while Leah's small breasts cling tightly to her otherwise incredibly fit body.

Leah looked at my naked form and said, "Norwegians are not bashful about nudity, but you make me blush, Anne."

I picked up the paper bag and looked at Leah waiting on her bed. There was hunger in her eyes, and I hoped some of that hunger was for me. She was wearing her usual knee-length flannel nightshirt and had her knees up. Between her legs, hiding in the semi-darkness, were white cotton panties. I hated them! Small tufts of soft blonde Norwegian fur always escaped, forever teasing me. Leah's eyes weren't the only ones that were hungry tonight.

I walked over and curled up next to her on the bed. Leah said, "We haven't talked since this morning. Any word from your parents about finding me a summer job in Normandie?"

"I got a text from my mother at lunchtime. The only openings so far are for seasonal workers fluent in French. Even after two months of my wonderful tutoring, your French still sucks."

Leah looked at me with her angry kitten snarl, "Well pardon my French! Your language has so many oddities. And I can't figure out how you use your tongue. Plus, every Frenchwoman I listen to swallows her vowels."

Gifted in several languages, Leah struggled with French. I needed to cheer her up.

Reaching into the bag, I removed a Mozartkule and placed it between her breasts. She untwisted the foil wrapper and held up her prize.

Leah stuck out her tongue and applied a long and very sensuous lick to the Mozartkule. Then she ran the tip of her chocolate-coated tongue slowly across her upper lip. I was surprised when she said, "Show me how the French use their tongues."

I leaned over and we kissed. Leah used her tongue to spread faint traces of the rich dark chocolate over my lips and onto my waiting tongue. Our tongues played and danced with each other, probing and exploring and teasing. "Wow!" gasped Leah. "So that's how it's done."

Leah is an enigma to me. I am a lesbian, through and through. Leah is not really a lesbian, but wasn't wholly straight either. Rather, she is confused and uncertain. A 'maybe sometimes', and a 'not maybe' at other times. I haven't figured her out. One thing I have learned about Norwegians is that they value their privacy, but once you become a friend, you find them stuck to you for life. Norwegians keep their guard up and love their private time, but if you respect that, they will accept and befriend you.

Pulling back her lips, Leah bared her teeth and took a small nip of the Mozartkule. As she savored some of the light-colored marzipan, I lowered my free hand to her flannel-covered breasts and squeezed the small globes. "Mmmmm," whispered Leah. Two fingers brushed over a firm nipple, and then I let them trace the outline using slow circles. I wondered what it felt like for Leah, as the soft flannel rubbed against her sensitive flesh. As I watched Leah's tongue make love to her temptation, I mimicked the swirling and licking of her tongue as she opened up more of the two sweet outer layers.

"So delicious," said Leah. I drew a sharp breath as sudden erotic sensations shot through me. For me, what lay beneath the flannel was far more delicious than a Mozartkule!

Opening her mouth, Leah's teeth scraped away a section of the chocolate nougat, similar to Nutella, but slightly firmer. As I watched her daintily chew, my hand slipped down between her legs and pressed against her white cotton panties. The gusset was damp, and I suspected that inside, Leah was much wetter. Pressing lightly, I explored the hills and valleys of her soft folds, carefully outlining both her inner and outer labia.

"So nice," moaned Leah. I hoped she was referring to more than the nougat. I located her clitoris, covered by the wretched white cotton, and circled it with my fingers. Leah began breathing harder, her breasts rising and falling, and after a long, "Ahhhh", I snuck in a quick kiss.

Leah held the remnants of the Mozartkule with her chocolate-coated thumb and first two fingers. Lowering the delight to her mouth, she nipped into the green pistachio center as I slid my fingers beneath the gusset of her panties. "This is the best part," she said. And she was right.

Her clitoris popped further out, and I began rubbing in slow circles, using a well-practiced technique I use on myself. Leah writhed under my touch. She looked at me, and her eyes showed her approaching orgasm. As she popped the last of the Mozartkule into her mouth, my middle two fingers entered her vagina and began pumping in and out. I pressed against her vulva with the palm of my hand, and as Leah shouted, "Yes! Yes! Yes!", I felt her inner muscles ripple and clamp on my fingers.

Leah lay her head back. She looked so peaceful, except for one hand remaining in the air. I reached for it, and drew it closer.

"Let me show you another way the French use their tongues."

I ran Leah's fingers against my tongue, licking, lapping, and sucking, as I removed the delicious coatings of Mozartkule. As my tongue slithered between two of her fingers, I could only wish those folds were somewhere more intimate. But Leah was not ready for a full commitment, so I had to be satisfied with what is, for now.

Leah said, "I will miss you while I'm in Greenland. You should have taken off and come with me to the Ice Music Festival."

I laughed, "Only a Norwegian would leave a place as cold and snowy as Norway, and want to visit a place even colder and snowier."

Leah said, "Maybe I should look for a summer job in Greenland while I'm there."

My heart stopped beating. These were words I dreaded to hear. Leah was funny, adventurous, and stunningly beautiful. She captured my heart and I love her! She has tried to show me fun things to do in Norway during the long winter, but it is too dark, cold, and snowy for me. When we both jumped into a hole cut into the ice of a frozen lake, and Leah claimed this to be fun, I knew I could never live in Norway.

I needed to get Leah to my home in Normandie. To show her the wide beaches. To sample the wares at a patisserie. To eat at a sidewalk café. I know Leah likes to write stories about the Viking Age, and the Normandie region is rich in Viking history. She has agreed to visit me in May after the ski season ends in Norway. But I want her to stay the whole summer and see France. I want her to see my world, and I want to find out if we can have a future together.

Leah stood and went to her dresser, pulled out a clean pair of white cotton panties, and went to the WC to clean up. I lay down on my bed, unwrapped a Mozartkule, and popped the whole thing in my mouth. Then I licked fingers that had been in the place that my tongue longingly hopes to explore. I drifted off to sleep with the sweet tastes of chocolate and Leah on my tongue.

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Chapter Two

Sunday Morning

Train Station, Oslo, Norway

POV - Leah's Mother

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I waited at the train station in Oslo for my daughter, Leah. She was on the early train from Geilo and I looked forward to seeing her again, as we had not seen each other since Christmas. At last, I spotted Leah walking toward me, wearing a backpack and pulling a large wheeled duffle-style bag. About three meters away, Leah stopped, lowered the wheeled bag, and we both stepped forward into a most welcome hug.

"Nice to see you again, Moro."

"And you, Leah. How was the train?"

"On time and not crowded."

"Is that a new backpack I see?"

"It is, I bought myself a new one to celebrate my twenty-eighth birthday."

"You're not giving up your sling pack, are you?"

"Not a chance. It's going to be cold in Greenland, so I need to carry more."

"I have a birthday gift for you as well, but it will have to wait until you return."

Leah and I left the train station and we drove the short distance to the Oslo harbor area, mostly to keep the two packs secure while we ate lunch.

Waiting for our food, I said, "I went to see Terje in an ice music concert here in January. He still has the same wild hair."

Leah asked, "Did you stay after and talk with him?"

"No," I replied. "He's famous now and tours all over the world. He won't remember me from his days as a jazz drummer in Bergen. It's been over thirty years. You could have come to see him play his ice instruments here in Oslo. Why go all the way to Greenland?"

"This is not a regular concert, Moro. It's the twentieth annual Ice Music Festival, and this year it takes place in Greenland. I want to be a travel writer, blogger, and influencer, and this is the one concert people most want to read about."

We finished lunch, retrieved both bags and walked over to the ferry. It is so much larger than when I was young, and resembles a cruise ship now.

I hugged my daughter and said, "Oslofjord should be beautiful now. It's early in March and there should be plenty of snow on top of the mountains. Call or text me once you get to Copenhagen."

"I will. I love you, Moro!"

I watched Leah board the ferry. My Leah is a wandering spirit, almost fairy-like at times. I hope one day she will be cured of this affliction, find herself a real job, and more than anything, find someone to love.

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Chapter Three

Tuesday Afternoon

The Town of Illulissat, Greenland

POV - Akimiu, An Inuit Taxi Driver

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I heard the sound of an airplane and looked into the sky. The bright red Air Greenland plane was coming in for a landing, and I was late! Or was it early! It didn't matter. I needed to get to the airport, and get there fast! The rear end of my old SUV slipped and I nearly spun out into the sweeping curve at the airport, but somehow I straightened out. As I pulled up to terminal there were already three hotel buses and four taxis waiting. I joined the end of the line, doubting I would get any passengers today. I stood outside on this cold day, watching, and waiting.

The first passengers emerged and queued up at one of the hotel buses with their baggage. Two families met the second hotel bus, and an older couple took seats in the first taxi. I spotted a young blonde woman walking along the row of remaining taxis. She wore a backpack and pulled a large wheeled bag. She paused to talk to one of the taxi drivers who was sitting inside his nice warm taxi. Then she looked my way and walked past the next two taxis.

Lowering her large wheeled bag, she looked at me and asked in Danish, "Hello! Are you a taxi?"

"No, I'm an Inuit", I said laughing. She smiled. I pointed to my homemade sign, propped up in the front window, with the word TAXI.

"Your car doesn't look like the other taxis."

"I'm an independent. I do this for extra money, but during the rest of the year I hunt and fish."

"I need to get to the Kiviuq hotel, can you take me there?"

"Sure thing."

The young woman said, "There are no signs, no help desk, and no ground transportation information in the terminal building."

"Yeah, that's the way we do things here in Greenland."

I swung her rolling bag into the boot of my car, "This is heavy."

"My whole life is in that bag. At least in winter. I'm a bit of a nomad, and that bag holds most of what I own."

She got into the front passenger seat, and I got a closer look at her. She was tall for a woman, and very slender. Her pure blonde hair was mostly tucked up under an Icelandic Wool hat. She was pretty. Maybe not fashion-model pretty, but then again, she wasn't wearing any makeup, so I wondered. Her eyes were a deep ice blue, and her smile was pure delight.

As we drove off, I said, "My name is Akimiu. Why did you pick my taxi instead of the others?"

"Hi, Akimiu. I'm Leah. The other drivers were waiting inside their taxis, but you stood outside. Their cars were newer, but yours is old. I don't like to follow the crowd."

"How was your flight?"

"Copenhagen to Nuuk to Ilulissat. Almost eight hours. I wanted to fly over the giant Ice Sheet in the daylight. It was wonderful. On the east side of Greenland, I could see the dark-colored mountains topped with snow, and the glaciers cutting down through the valleys. They looked so smooth, like frozen rivers. Then we passed over the Ice Sheet itself. Almost totally white, and stretching out so far, covering everything. I could barely see any mountains because the ice wss so thick. Only a few dark pips sticking up, visible only by their shadow in the low angled afternoon sun."

"No offense, but the way you speak Danish, you don't sound like you're from Copenhagen."

"I'm not. I'm from Norway."

"I'm a pure-blooded Inuit man, born here in Ilulissat."

"I would like to learn more."

"About men?"

She laughed, "About the Inuit."

Arriving at the edge of town, I said, "Welcome to Ilulissat. We are about 250 kilometers north of the Arctic Circle. In the Greenlandic language, Ilulissat means Icebergs. The body of water you see is called Disko Bay, and the Icefjord just south of town has been declared a World Heritage site by UNESCO."

Leah said, "You sound like a tour guide."

"My brother Aaju and I set up our own small travel agency. We mostly do fishing and sightseeing tours, being local guides. We do this at a fair price since we don't have an intermediary. But I think we need to upgrade our website to bring in more business."

"What's your URL?"

I saw her pull out her cell phone and said, "Since you are coming from Europe, your cell phone should work on our GSM network. People coming from North America often discover their cell phones won't work. You can expect service in towns, but there is nothing in remote locations except VHF radio-telephones, like the kind we use on boats."

I gave her the URL to our website, and a minute later she said, "It looks like you used a canned app to build your website. And the word Fleksibility is spelled with an x instead of a ks. I do web design and could create a much better site for you. Let me give you my contact information."

She pulled a small notebook out of her pack, wrote something down, tore out the page, and handed it to me. I looked at it and said, "This isn't much of a business card."

Leah laughed and said, "Yeah, but it's cheaper than having an intermediary!"

I showed Leah the rest of the town. It didn't take long. She wanted to see the Icefjord Centre so we stopped there.

Leah said, "Ilulissat looks a lot like the fishing villages on the coast of Norway. Very similar houses, small and brightly colored."

It was my turn to laugh, "We have six months of winter. Not many people paint their houses white!"

I took her to her hotel and she asked, "How much do I owe? I exchanged Norwegian kroner for Danish kroner at the airport in Copenhagen."

"Free. My treat, Leah."

"Akimiu, if you give away services for free, you won't be here if I ever come back."

I accepted her money, helped her with her bag, and headed home for dinner.

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Chapter Four

Late Tuesday Afternoon

Kiviuq Hotel, Illulissat, Greenland

POV - Nivi, Acting Manager, Kiviuq Hotel

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I watched a young blonde woman get out of an old taxi and enter the small lobby of my parent's hotel. She asked, "Do you speak Danish?"

"A little," I replied.

"I have a reservation," she said.

I took her credit card and ID, looked it up, and then handed over two keys to her room. "Number 11."

She said, "I'm here for the Ice Music Festival."

"Two couples are staying here for that. One of the women said she is a social media influencer, and the guy she is with took some photos and video of the hotel."

"I'm here to write a travel story about the Festival, but I'm not an influencer, at least not yet. There is so much competition today, it takes a lot of production and editing to be successful, including adding music and drone videos. I'm not ready to make that kind of commitment. And even after all that, you may not make much money. One of my friends from University has a half-million YouTube followers, and she still has to work in the radiology department at a hospital. Say, do you serve breakfast here?"

"Just coffee. We only have breakfast in the summer during our busy season. But there is a nice local cafe down the hill and I can give you a voucher for a free breakfast."

"Free sounds good to me. I'm a bit of a nomad and travel a lot. I don't have a permanent job, and eating out takes a bite from my limited budget."

I said, "My name is Nivi."

"I'm Leah."

I asked, "What places have you been?"

"Almost all of the EU. Most recently to Denmark, Germany, Switzerland, and the Netherlands."

I softly sighed. "My parents own this hotel, but they are away in Denmark. My father is Inuit and my mother is Danish. It is so expensive to fly out of Greenland, I don't get to travel very much."

"I don't have any plans for tonight. I'd be happy to share some of my photos and stories of the places I have been."

"I'd like that. Our house is next to the hotel. In exchange, I'll cook us both dinner."

Leah smiled and replied, "Deal!"

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Chapter Five

Wednesday Afternoon

Icefjord Centre, Illulissat, Greenland

POV - Terje, Ice Musician from Norway

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While carefully tuning each bar made of glacial ice on my iceophone, I caught movement from the corner of my eye and looked up. A young woman was standing nearby. I recognized her.

"Hi, Leah! Velkommen til Grønland."

"You still remember me, Terje?"

"Of course. Few people can sing in Old Norse, and even fewer have a voice as lovely as yours. Let me see. How long? How long? Six years it has been! You sang with me at four concerts during a short tour of Norway. Have you been practicing or taking lessons? With a voice like yours, you could be good if you put your heart into it."

Leah replied, "No. I'm afraid I've become too much of a wanderer."

"This year, we have a singer who grew up in São Paulo, Brazil. Born in Norway, she returned to study music for two years in Bergen. She is a jazz singer and is quite good."

"I see you are still touring. Do you still pull that old trailer around with the chilling unit?"

"The very same. We can't let the ice instruments melt between concerts. For this year's festival, we made all the instruments here, mostly from ice we got right here in Ilulissat. But we also managed to get some ice from a nearby glacier. What have you been up to these last few years?"

"I'm a ski rep in Geilo."

"That's where I grew up! Many happy memories there."

Leah said, "After you held the Ice Festival near Geilo for all those years, I got a job there, just in time for you to move the festival to Greenland! It sounds like this will be a wonderful concert this year. I'm here to write a story about it for two travel websites."

I said, "Wait here. Let me get you something!" I turned and unzipped my travel bag, pulling out a pass. "Here's a press pass. It will get you into the Icefjord Centre and all the shows. While many people think of Greenland as a land of ice, the festival is about the most important resource we have on this planet, namely, water."

Leah said, "I flew over the Ice Sheet. It's amazing."

I had a sudden idea. "Say, I've been tuning my iceophone, plus we need to test the sound equipment. Would you mind singing one of my classic songs? You may remember it."

"Wow!" said an excited Leah. "What an honor, Terje. I'd be happy to. Can I record it for my mom?"

"Sure. But no distribution. Agreed?"

"Agreed."

I signaled to one of the sound engineers and asked him to turn on the equipment. Leah set up her cell phone, stepped behind the singer's microphone, and reviewed the sheets of music. I began playing a meditative song as a tribute to nature, by tapping the individual ice bars of the iceophone, Then I motioned for Leah to join in. I watched her head bounce to the rhythms and my ears were graced once more by her lovely voice. When the song finished, I saw Leah crying.

"Thank you, so much, Terje. I really enjoyed this. And I know my mom will love it."

"I would gladly have you back, Leah, if you decide to commit yourself to music. Say, how is your mom doing?"

"She attended your concert in Oslo in January, and said she enjoyed it very much."

"I didn't see her there."

"She told me you wouldn't remember her."

"I never forget a face or a voice like your mother's. We were in a group together in Bergen, and will never forgive your father for stealing her away from us. The Ice Quartet is playing later this month in Oslo. I'll get your mom tickets, and please ask her to stay after the show."

"I know she will be thrilled!"

Leah thanked me again, and then went inside the exhibit area. She reminds me so much of her mother, and I hope one day she will give up her wandering life.

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Chapter Six

Thursday Evening

Icefjord Centre, Illulissat, Greenland

POV - Nivi, Acting Manager, Kiviuq Hotel

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It was overcast and snowing lightly when I pulled onto the parking lot of Kangiata Illorsua, the Icefjord Centre. Leah and I lingered too long at dinner and ended up far back on the lot. Fortunately, we were fortified with large bowls of Suaasat, a hearty stew made with seal, potatoes, onions, and barley. With the temperature at minus 14 degrees Celsius, I tightened my hood and checked my gloves. I taught Leah several words in Kalaalisut, the Greenlandic language. This was a good opportunity for her to learn the word for snow. After I pronounced third different one, Leah waved her gloved hands to interrupt me.

"How many words do you have for snow?"

"Lots!" I laughed. "Do you want to hear them all?"

"Do we have time?" she smiled back.

"No," I grinned.

Arriving at the entrance, Leah used the press pass she had gotten, and I used the concert ticket she had purchased in Norway. Rather than letting us out onto the unheated terrace, we were directed into the exhibit area to wait until it was closer to concert time. Leah told me she stopped here yesterday, and I said I had been here a few times. With the help of the multi-lingual exhibits, I continued my lessons in the Greenlandic language. Confusing to outsiders, and difficult to translate, our language, called Kalaallisut, starts with a root word and then adds noun and verb suffixes, rather than combining multiple words into a sentence. These compound words can grow quite long and can vary in meaning, depending on the sequence of suffixes.

While we were waiting, I said to Leah, "The Icefjord Centre was designed to be one with nature. The building is shaped in a twisted structure, mimicking the wingspan of a snowy owl flying over the landscape. The exhibits themselves tell of the cycle of ice, the abundant wildlife of Greenland, and the history of humans over thousands of years. In the summer, you can walk on the roof of the centre. The views in every direction are amazing. One of the wings overlooks the Ilulissat Icefjord, designated a UNESCO World Heritage site because of the icebergs."

She replied, "The Opera House in Oslo is like this. From the water, it looks like a whale rising up. Plus, you can walk on the roof to get wonderful views of the city."

At 21:00, we moved onto the terrace. The stage area was smaller than I expected, ringed in a poorly constructed half igloo of ice. Definitely not made by Inuit or perhaps done in haste. The stage and instruments were lit by colorful upscale lighting.

Leah said, "The only musician tonight will be Terje, playing his magic ice marimba which he calls an iceophone."

Terje welcomed the audience. Standing beside him was an Inuit translator who turned his Norwegian words into the Greenlandic language. He said tonight's concert would be meditative, using soft sounds to create a tribute to nature. I was surprised when he started playing and did not use any hammers to strike the iceophone. Rather, he tapped the ice bars with his gloved fingers. Each note sounded like a bell, very clear and crisp. I grew up surrounded by ice, and could not imagine such sounds could be made from it!

Lost in the incredible music, I drifted into the spirit world, thinking of my many encounters with ice. I was sad when the concert came to an end. After we stood and applauded, I hugged Leah and thanked her. Then I gave her a kiss on her cheek. She smiled and nodded back.

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Chapter Seven

Friday Morning

The wilderness outside Illulissat, Greenland

POV - Nivi, Acting Manager, Kiviuq Hotel

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I met Leah in the hotel lobby, then drove us to my friend Salik's home on the edge of Ilulissat. After knocking, he answered and invited us in. Leah took a step forward, but I reached out my hand to stop her. Bending down to pull off my boots, I set them outside the door. I told Leah that in Greenland, it is respectful to do this, to avoid bringing dirt and snow melt into the home of your host. Leah nodded and did the same with her boots.

While we drink hot tea, Salik told Leah about his Greenlandic Sled Dogs. Ilulissat serves as a boundary between north and south. To the north, you can only keep this breed of dog. South of Illulissat, sled dogs are called 'Danish dogs' and can be of any breed. The reason for this separation is to keep the Greenlandic breed pure. For two thousand years, dog sleds have been used by the Inuit people in Greenland.

He lamented the fact that fewer people are keeping dogs today. They are expensive to feed and are now used mainly in tourist areas. Salik said sled dogs are working dogs, not pets. The route he planned for us would be crossing a road before reaching the main track to Mountain Akinnaq. Dog teams have the right of way when crossing roads because they are harder to stop than cars. There is even triangular warning sign with a drawing of a dog sled.

We went to the back of his property and saw his dogs lying in the snow. A few heads popped up, but once they saw the leads, the dogs began jumping and barking.

As Leah watched the team being joined up with the sled, she said, "A few years ago, I helped a friend named Toivo in Finland run his dogs for the tourists. These are beautiful dogs. I notice that instead of being paired side by side, he is setting up three teams of three, tied to a single connection point. That's different."

Salik replied, "Different is how we do things here in Greenland. The dogs will spread out more than you may be used to seeing, and will run together in the lead."

Leah and I sat on the sled, with Salik as the musher. Upon command, the dogs started pulling. The lashings and leads pulled tight and began creaking as we started moving. Beneath us, the runners on the sled whistled and crackled against the compressed snow. We crossed a road and headed toward the mountain, joining up with a flat, well-traveled trail used by the mushers running trips for the tourists.

It was not crowded on the trail, but we did pass and wave to two sleds returning to Ilulissat. We moved swiftly, and I suspect Salik wanted to show off his dogs to impress Leah. Reaching the base of the mountain, we stopped. Leaving the dogs behind, Leah and I walked up the steep trail to the top of Mountain Akinnaq. It was cold, and the sky was dark with low clouds. There had been about an inch of snow overnight, so Leah and I held each other's hand when required for the four-hundred-meter climb. Arriving at the peak, we were met by total silence, as there was barely any wind.

The view was breathtaking. We overlooked the town of Ilulissat, and further to the west lay Disko Bay. The bay was partially covered with broken ice, and studded with a mix of both small and large, pure white icebergs. To the south, was the Icefjord itself, the waters hiding beneath a blanket of broken ice. Not visible, but further up the fjord, lay the massive Sermeq Kujalleq glacier, which spawned the icebergs now in Disko Bay.

"My grandfather tells stories about the Icefjord. Generations ago, the glacier reached all the way to Disko Bay. Then it began slowly retreating, paused for two generations, but has retreated again. The glacier is now far up the fjord. But it still calves enormous icebergs and they slowly move down the fjord into Disko Bay. Boats and kayaks cannot go into the Icefjord in winter because of the floating sea ice and icebergs. Sometimes in the summer, a channel opens up and you can boat or kayak a short distance."

Leah said, "I kayaked one winter in a fjord and ran into floating ice. When a sudden storm hit I feared I would get trapped. I was unprepared and had to spend a frigid night on shore. But I met two women who saved me."

"Tour boats can get closer to another glacier named Eqip Sermia, about 70 km north of Ilulissat. It's also huge, over 5 km wide and two hundred meters high. There is also a lodge there, and it is best to go in late summer because there is less ice in the water. I've seen Eqip Glacier, but never Sermeq Kujalleq. The only way to reach it is by helicopter or to fly over in a plane."

"I have an idea. Let me make a call." Leah stepped away and held the cell phone to her ear. She nodded several times and I thought her lips formed the word, "OK".

Then she came and stood next to me. I pointed north. "At the foot of that mountain off in the distance, is 'The Place with Crowberries'. My family kayaks there every summer. We pick the delicious tart purplish-black berries. We try to pick enough to make jam, but they are so tasty that not all of the berries make it back."

Leah asked, "The Place with Crowberries? Doesn't it have a real name?"

I replied, "That is its real name. We do not name places for people like the Danish do. Sermeq means 'glacier' and Kujalleq means 'southern'. Thus we know it is a glacier south of Ilulissat. The colonizers call it the Jakobshavn Glacier. In Greenland, we name places after what we find there. For example, Kapisillit is 'the place with salmon'. Ammassalik is 'the place with capelin'."

Leah asked, "Capelin is a type of smelt, isn't it?"

"Yes," I replied.

"We catch and serve smelt in Norway too. Delicious!"

Standing still after an energetic climb, I was chilled, so I suggested we return to the sled, and then go back to Ilulissat.

Leah nodded, then added, "We need to warm up because I'm taking you someplace even colder this afternoon."

**********

Chapter Eight

Friday Afternoon

Illulissat Airport

POV - Captain Torstein Berge, Royal Norwegian Air Force, retired

**********

I returned to the terminal building at Ilulissat Airport after looking over the AS 350 helicopter. The travel company I worked for had received a last-minute booking for a flight to see the Sermeq Kujalleq glacier. We had an arrangement with Air Greenland to lease their helicopter for scenic flights, and they kept their choppers in tip-top shape. I pulled the pilot weather briefing, reviewed the usual flight restrictions, and then filed my flight plan. Checking the text message from my travel company, I looked up the names of the two passengers while waiting by the 'Helicopter Tours' sign.

An attractive Inuit woman in her early twenties approached, along with a blonde European woman. Both were bundled against the cold. They introduced themselves, and I welcomed them using my rather poor Danish. Then I asked if they spoke English, the lingua franca of pilots, and was happy when they both nodded. I learned Aviation English over twenty-five years ago, and have used it ever since.

"I am Captain Torstein Berge, Royal Norwegian Air Force, retired. We will be flying east to the Sermeq Kujalleq glacier. The trip should last about two hours, and we will make a short ground stop overlooking the glacier."

The pretty blonde smiled gleefully, and said, "Jeg er fra Norge."

She told me she was from Bergen, Norway, but was working at the ski resort in Geilo. I told her I used to fly with the Maritime Helicopter Wing of the 139 Air Wing based in Barufoss Flystasjon. She knew of it, having visited Tromsø. The travel companies in Greenland like to recruit Norwegian helicopter pilots, since we have quite a bit of experience flying in Arctic conditions.

Since it is difficult to talk in the air, I began my well-practiced overview of the flight. "Sermeq Kujalleq is the largest and most productive glacier in the Northern Hemisphere, the face being over 7 kilometers wide with a depth greater than 1 kilometer. Fed by the huge Ice Sheet covering Greenland, the glacier moves up to fifty meters each day, calving off forty-three million tons of icebergs each year. Scientists speculate that Sermeq Kujalleq may have produced the iceberg that sunk the Titanic."

Moving to practical matters, I let them know we would fly about seventy kilometers up the Icefjord, flying as low as regulations allowed, passing over snow-covered mountains, frozen lakes, and icebergs in the fjord. I could not promise they would see the glacier calving, since calving peaks during July and August. However, one of the largest recorded events happened in February, so it was possible. Before returning home, I told them we would fly low along the entire width of the glacier.

Their excited looks told me they were ready to go. I led them to the helicopter and reviewed additional safety rules. Securing their belts, I took the command seat and shortly thereafter, we were in the air. The trip went as planned, and even the low clouds did not lessen the incredible views. I set the helicopter down on a small mountain overlooking the glacier, and we all exited.

Both women rushed to the edge of the mountain. Even though they faced away from me, I had seen this look of awe many times. Not only could they see the glacier, but beyond it on the eastern horizon was the Ice Sheet itself. An additional two kilometers thick, it rose as a massive wall of pure white ice.

In front of the face of the glacier was tightly packed floating ice, studded with small icebergs. It looked solid, but it wasn't. While the women were taking photos with their cell phones, the glacier began to calve! A loud sharp crack announced the event, and a small section of ice broke free and crashed into the ice-covered water with a resounding splash. Then more bits and pieces of ice began to drop, throwing off a powdery mist of fresh snow. Against the enormous size of the glacier, everything appeared to move in slow motion. Then a larger section of the glacier fell, almost as if pulled downward by an invisible hand. A deep rumble reached us, sounding like thunder, and the layer of broken ice floating on the surface rippled outward. A moment later, a newly born iceberg bobbed up, ready to begin its journey to the sea.

"I got it!" shouted the blonde. "On video! So freaking amazing! It's like stepping back in time, to when Norway's fjords were full of ice."

She ran over to me, gave me a tight hug, then kissed me on the cheek. I was glad my wife didn't see us, as she was working in the emergency room at the hospital back in Ilulissat. Maybe it was the private pilot's uniform? My military uniform sure worked on my wife back in Tromsø!

It was time to return to the airport, but before doing so, I flew past the face of the glacier. The jagged needles, deep crevasses, and sparkling ice never appear the same when flying this close. Except for the beauty. That is always the same. Ever present. Raw and unchanging. Unique and unpredictable. The ultimate force of nature.

**********

Chapter Nine

Friday Evening

Icefjord Centre, Illulissat, Greenland

POV - Nivi, Acting Manager, Kiviuq Hotel

**********

Lured by the promise of a larger concert tonight, I invited Leah to dinner at my house so we could get there earlier than last night. I prepared kapisilik, which Leah recognized as salmon, for dinner. Stuck in this lingering cold, we again waited inside the exhibit area.

Leah pulled me over to the closed doors leading to the terrace and we peeked out. "I see the iceophone, but Terje has added some hanging chimes, and it looks like he has a horn. It's interesting how he makes the horns. They are formed from two separate pieces and then glued together. You'll never guess what kind of glue he uses."

"You're right. I have no guess."

Leah grinned, and said, "Water! He uses water to glue the two halves together. The water freezes into the perfect glue! I see something that looks like a bowl. He fills that with ice and uses two rods made of ice to make a soft crushing sound. And look! You'll love this one. I see an Ice Guitar!"

I doubted such a thing was possible, so I looked closer. There it was, leaning on a stand. "How?" I asked.

"The body is carved from ice, but the bridges, strings, neck, and fingerboard are from a regular guitar. As you play it, the sound resonates within the ice body of the guitar. It sounds almost like a regular guitar, perhaps better, if you know where the sound comes from."

Leah and I backed away from the doors to let others catch a glimpse.

I told Leah, "I went to Copenhagen with my mother years ago to visit relatives. When we were there, we went to a symphony concert where I saw these types of instruments. But it is expensive to fly to anywhere place from Greenland, so I have not been back."

At concert time we were allowed out on the terrace and took our seats. Terje began speaking again, and the interpreter translated. Joining them on stage was a tall thin woman with black hair. She was introduced as Gabriela Garrubo. Born in Norway, she grew up in São Paulo, Brazil, but has since moved back to Norway. Terje spoke about the importance of the earth's most valuable resource, water. He highlighted the connection between the rainforest in Brazil and the Ice Sheet in Greenland, two of the most important sources of fresh water on the planet.

Then the concert began, the softly lit instruments creating music to once again join us with nature. Gabriela was a soft jazz singer, and it was interesting to hear her sudden voice changes, pauses, and varying volumes. The concert also included different meditation songs, where once again, nature spoke to us through the ice instruments. Lasting longer than last night, with more things happening, I slid forward to the edge of my seat and stayed there for the entire concert. I looked over at Leah and her face was lit up, but not only by the stage lights.

After the concert ended, Leah smiled and leaned towards me, looking as if she wanted to kiss me. "Teach me how to do an Eskimo nose kiss."

I replied, "In Greenland, it is called Kunik, better known as an Inuit kiss. But it is not what you think it is. We don't rub the tip of our noses together. It's more like smelling."

"What? Smelling?"

"We show love for each other by placing our nose against someone's cheek. Then we inhale deeply to smell them, while gently rubbing our nose against them."

"Can we practice?"

"I would love to!"

**********

Chapter Ten

Saturday Afternoon

Disko Bay, just west of Ilulissat

POV - Nivi, Acting Manager, Kiviuq Hotel

**********

I once again met Leah in the hotel lobby, and we drove to the harbor area of Ilulissat. The temperature had climbed to minus eight degrees Celsius, still cold, but it felt much warmer on this sunny day. Leah had arranged for a boat tour of Disko Bay, due west of town. Disko Bay connects to Baffin Bay, and from there you can follow the coast of Greenland north into the Arctic Ocean, or south into the North Atlantic.

Exiting the car, Leah waved to an Inuit man who stood in front of a moored boat, and he waved back. Another Inuit man waited aboard the boat. After introductions, I learned that Akimiu and Aaju were brothers who ran an independent tour company here in Ilulissat. Leah had been in touch with Akimiu during the week and traded web design services for this boat tour.

Akimiu said, "It's been cold here the last few days, so we need to break through some ice in the harbor before reaching open water. Don't be afraid, our steel hull is reinforced so we can do this."

Once aboard the boat, I looked out over at least three hundred meters of floating ice we needed to pass through. After untying the lines, the two brothers entered the small pilot cabin and started the engines, while Leah and I remained on deck. Progress was slow as we weaved between the larger pieces of ice, pushing the smaller ones aside. I cringed at the sound of ice scraping along the hull. Our speed varied, depending on what lay before us.

Free at last, we entered Disko Bay. Merely an illusion from shore, Disko Bay was far from clear, with sections of floating ice and a few small icebergs. As we boated between them, I saw our destination, a cluster of much larger icebergs. The closer we drew, the larger they became!

Several whales passed near the boat, but the brothers told us they were not permitted to chase after them. We had not yet reached the larger icebergs when the brothers cut the engines and we drifted to a stop. Except for the calls of the pure black ravens and white gulls everything was silent. The brothers pointed back to the harbor and told Leah to get her cell phone camera ready. A moment later, a large whale breached less than twenty meters from the boat! Crashing back into the water with a huge splash, the spray nearly reached all the way to the boat! Rippling waves followed, rocking the boat as we stood in awe.

"How did you know that," asked Leah.

Aaju replied, "I saw the whale moving down the bay, and watched its course, breathing, and speed. Then I steered the boat to where the whale would come up. It is a skill my father taught me, and his father taught him. I do not use my skill to hunt whales, but I practice it, so I can show whales to the tourists."

The engines roared to life, and with less sea ice in front of us, we soon arrived at the larger icebergs. The combination of sunlight and light winds allowed the icebergs to be reflected in the water. The air chilled as the brothers moved the boat slowly around and in between. This close, I could smell the ice. We were in a valley of giants, mainly pure white, but there were subtle shades of blue. The most intense blue was found in the deeper crevasses of the crenelated surfaces. I listened to the waves as they struck the waterline of the icebergs, and jumped at the occasional loud cracking of the ice.

"Look down!" yelled Leah as she pointed. Directly beneath the boat, was a blue-tinted iceberg!

Aaju said, "You only see part of the iceberg above the water. Most of it lies beneath the surface, where the danger is greatest. White ice is young and not compacted. Because it has many air bubbles, light can pass through it. Blue ice is older and compressed so there is less air. But what every boat fears is black ice. Rare and very beautiful, it is almost transparent. It is very hard, difficult to see, and forms from rainwater frozen within crevasses."

The brothers gave us their tour guide talk, much of which I already knew. They served Lean and me hot tea, and we stood on deck watching the icebergs as we sipped. The brothers were disappointed when Leah told them she was leaving in two days. They said their favorite time on the bay was near sunset, watching the icebergs change colors in the setting sun.

As we stood on deck, Akimiu yelled and pointed to a small iceberg floating nearby. Leah raised her cell phone camera just in time to see the iceberg flip over in the water! Aaju said this sometimes happens when the weight distribution of the iceberg changes. Seeing the waves heading for the boat, Leah took my hand and braced herself.

As we headed back to the harbor, Leah and I held hands. Looking at each other, we smiled. It had been an amazing boat tour of Disko Bay. Despite being on the bay many times before, this trip was special for me, because I shared the experience with Leah.

**********

Chapter Eleven

Saturday Evening

Icefjord Centre, Illulissat, Greenland

POV - Nivi, Acting Manager, Kiviuq Hotel

**********

Leah met me in the hotel lobby at 22:00, and we exchanged Inuit nose kisses. Leah smelled nice. Almost too clean, too perfect, and totally unnecessary. The last concert was to be something special and would start at midnight. As we drove to the Icefjord Centre, Leah kept looking at the skies.

"Terje likes this last concert to start at midnight, so everyone can see the Northern Lights. But there is a thin overcast, and the moon is out, so I doubt we will get a good view of the lights."

I told Leah, "Overcast skies mean warmer air is coming."

Leah said, "The Inuit are amazing. Can you tell the weather just by looking at the skies?"

I laughed, "No. I checked the weather forecast. We finally warm up tomorrow, a little."

Leah said, "I remember going to the Ice Music Festival one year in Norway. The temperatures rose above freezing and the instruments started to melt. After that, Terje built a special sloped arena with the stage at the bottom, so the cold air would sink down to it. He has also tried using cloth tents and igloo shells."

The concert began and was similar to the one we saw on Friday evening, but with different songs. I enjoyed listening to the ice horn, and Leah told me that it was played with the lips like a trumpet because it has no reed. Thus, the changing of notes depends on the musician using his lips.

The concert paused, and I saw an Inuit woman walk onto the stage. Wait! I know her! Paninnguaq Jensen, the famous singer from Greenland! Paninnguaq sang a song in the Greenlandic language, accompanied by wonderful ice instruments. I began crying. What a perfect blending of my Inuit culture, to Leah's, and to nature.

After the concert, Leah and I walked to a viewpoint overlooking the Icefjord. The nearly full moon penetrated the veil of clouds, painting the ice and rock in soft silver-blue light. I have seen the Icefjord many times and every time it is special. Leah and I stood motionless for at least ten minutes, trying to take in everything that lay before us. Then Leah took my hand. We sat down on the last bench and cuddled against the cold.

Thin mists hung low over the sea ice, a soft blanket of white. Bleak, jagged crags reached upward as if trying to escape what lay beneath. But everything stood still in reverence to the enormous icebergs. Long plateaus of white and towering castles, defied earthly belief, stirring my imagination. The icebergs were locked in place by winter's grip, awaiting the arrival of Spring, to break their chains.

Leah said, "This chilly night has sharpened my senses, but the silence here is total. There are no sounds of waves, wind, or cracking ice, and there are no birds. And there are no words to describe it all."

I took Leah's hand and we looked at each other. Was I dreaming? I closed my eyes and opened my heart, hoping to capture the night and reach out to Leah's spirit. Dreams and memories fade, but what is kept in the heart lives on.

Disturbing the solitude, I needed to tell Leah something important. "I am a lesbian."

Leah smiled and replied, "I know. I felt your spirit."

I said, "The Inuit have a word for it, qaigajuarit, which means two soft things rubbing together."

"Your language, Kalaallisut, is amazing. You express thoughts in simple terms, yet they can be incredibly descriptive and thought-provoking. I suppose gay males are two hard things rubbing together?"

I nodded. "People tell me it is not an Inuit custom to be a lesbian, so I am uncomfortable being open and honest about my sexuality. I try to keep it hidden, even from friends I grew up with. A few friends know this, and have been accepting, but I always fear what others will say once they find out. I identify as a lesbian and an Inuit, and those identities cannot be separated. One of my LGBTQ friends moved away from Ilulissat, her spirit torn between who she was, and the expectations of the community."

"That's so sad," replied Leah.

"There is no way to express ourselves, and we cannot talk about it with the people we love. Especially the older generations, such as my grandparents. They have become really cool towards me once they found out."

Leah said, "My own sexual identity can be summed up in one word, confused. I wander, unsure, searching for my own identity, searching for love. Beyond physical, I am looking for something much deeper. An emotional connection that binds my heart to another, and I don't care about someone's sexuality."

I continued, "I have a better relationship with my parents. They spend time in Denmark and seem open to the changes happening in the world. Despite being Inuit my father encourages me to pursue what I believe in. As an only child, I did things with him that a son would normally do. I often dress like a man, not to make a statement, but because it helps me stay warm. I have never felt I was a man. But I refuse to do 'women things' only because I am a woman."

Leah said, "Being a woman should not prevent you from doing 'man things' or anything you want to do. I despise society at times for trying to define my role within it. I travel by myself, but don't consider that to be liberating, it's just living."

I nodded at Leah's words, which touched something much deeper within me. Then I said, "I told my grandparents I met a new friend, and they invited us to a barbecue tomorrow on the shoreline."

I was glad when Leah replied, "That sounds great! I would love to meet them."

"There is something else you should know, Leah. They think I do too many manly things, and because of that, consider me to be a Rwo-Spirit person."

"What is that?" asked Leah.

"It means different things to different people and to different communities. Most often, a Two-Spirit person is said to have two spirits within one body. One is female and one is male. It represents the dual nature of gender and sexuality, allowing a Two-Spirit person to easily switch between male and female roles. Two-spirit people are also said to have close ties to the spirit world. Despite that, our community is not accepting of them."

"I feel like that at times. Being independent, I have to fill both male and female roles. Does that make me a Two-Spirit person?"

"No, only indigenous people can have two spirits. Two-Spirit is the intersection of being indigenous and being LGBTQ. They cannot be separated. In fact, sexual orientation is secondary to ethnic identity. The word itself covers a variety of indigenous concepts for gender and sexual diversity. Many indigenous languages have other established words to describe people who are neither men nor women. I think the word reflects opposition to the two gender concepts of the colonizers."

Leah said, "You are Inuit. You said you fill male roles. And you told me you are a lesbian. Doesn't that make you a Two-Spirit person?"

I replied, "LGBTQ and two-spirit may overlap, but they are distinct and not equal. I can be a lesbian, but still not be Two-Spirit."

Leah took my hand and said, "I feel like our spirits touched each other earlier tonight."

I replied, "I feel that way too."

It was cold, so Leah and I walked back to the car. When we reached it, Leah looked back to see our footprints in the snow and said, "I fly back home on Monday. Are footprints the only thing I am leaving here in Greenland?"

I replied, "No. You have left me wonderful memories of the time we spent together."

"Won't memories fade, just like footprints in the snow?"

"Not if I keep those memories safe in my heart!"

"I love you, Nivi!"

"And I love you, Leah! Can we? I mean, would you spend the night with me?"

We moved towards each other, our arms intertwined, and our frosty breath met in the frigid night air. A moment later, our warm lips touched."

**********

Chapter Twelve

Sunday, just after Noon

The Shoreline of Illulissat, Greenland

POV - Nivi, Acting Manager, Kiviuq Hotel

**********

At last, a warm sunny day, or more correctly, one just above freezing. Not too windy, and perfect for a Barbecue on the shoreline of the Icefjord with my grandparents. As Leah and I approached, I saw a cooler, a small fire, and an iron grate propped between two rocks. Seeing us, my grandfather and grandmother stood.

Leah told my grandparents her name, using Danish.

My grandmother said, "You speak Danish poorly. You are not a colonizer."

I whispered to Leah, "Use the Greenlandic language I taught you."

Leah hesitated, but a quick poke with my elbow loosened her tongue, and Leah said her name and where she was from.

My grandfather looked at us sternly and said, "You also speak Greenlandic poorly." Then he smiled and said, "Learning our language shows respect for our ancestors, our culture, and our people. I thank you."

I handled the rest of the introductions, using an odd mix of English, Danish, and Greenlandic, then continued to act as an interpreter between Leah and my grandparents.

My grandmother offered us Mattaq, the most popular snack in Greenland. This chewy delicacy is made from the skin and underlying fat layer of a narwhale. Sometimes salted, sometimes not, it is meant to be chewed almost like chewing gum. I warned Leah about mattaq but she did not hesitate to try my grandmother's version. Non-Inuit people often chew and discard, but I prefer to swallow.

Between chews, my grandfather asked Leah, "Why have you come to Ilulissat?"

She replied, "I am a storyteller, and I want to tell the story of the Ice Music Festival."

Then, Leah surprised me, pulling out her cell phone. She wanted us to show a video she made, something called, 'The Music of the Ice'. We gathered together as Leah held up the small screen and pressed the play button. Scenes of everything Leah and I had done for the past three days appeared, plus others I had not seen. Nature blended with ice instruments as gentle sounds played in the background. A voice joined in. It was Leah, singing! A glacier calved, sled dogs barked, an iceberg rolled, and a whale breached. Paninnguaq Jensen sang in our language. The video was amazing. When it stopped, I wanted more!

"When did you have time to do this?" I asked.

"This morning. It's rough, but I wanted something to show your grandparents, to tell them the story of my visit. I will do the same thing for my mother."

I watched my grandmother take my grandfather's hand and squeeze it gently. In response, my grandfather said, "The Inuit culture and the history of our people are kept in stories. You have created a story worthy of our people. Let me share a story of your people. One from long ago, when they lived among us. Today, the colonizers prefer to dig in the mud, looking for answers to what became of the Vikings. They do not ask the Inuit. Only we know. Here is the story I have been told."

My grandfather began, using Greenlandic, and I translated for Leah. "It was warm when the Vikings arrived in Greenland. There was little sea ice. They made farms, planted crops, and kept their animals. They called us skraelings, or wretches, in their language. For many years, they hunted walrus for their tusks, sending them away in their ships. Then came a time of Ice and Snow. Your people could not grow their food, nor feed their animals. They began eating our food, whales, seals, and musk oxen. At last, the weather grew warmer, but with it came many ocean storms, and sea ice made it difficult for them to hunt using their large boats."

"One day, we went to trade with them and found they had gone. Vanished as if by some unknown magic. We looked into their homes, but everything of value was gone. Colonizers today claim we killed the Vikings, but that is nonsense. The Vikings conquered much of Europe using their metal weapons. Our weapons are made of bone. How could we defeat them?"

Leah said, "One of the stories in Norway is that the demand for walrus tusks collapsed, replaced by larger elephant tusks from Africa. After that change, it made no sense to remain in a land that was more difficult to farm than the one they left."

My grandfather said, "Your story is a good one. I shall add it to that of my people."

Leah asked, "How did the Inuit survive for so long, with primitive weapons?"

My grandfather replied, "Our stories."

"What do you mean?" asked Leah.

My grandfather said, "Our knowledge and culture is passed down in our blood, our bones, and our stories. Stories tell us how to hunt, where to hunt, and when to hunt. They connect our spirits to those of the land and the animals, so we may live in harmony with the natural world."

My grandmother removed the seal meat from the iron grill, placed it on a cutting board, and sliced a piece for my grandfather. He ate it hungrily and smiled.

My grandmother said, "Many Inuit prefer to eat seal raw, but Nivi likes it salted and lightly seared, so I prepared it this way for her. Our hunters often had no wood to start a fire. I hope you like it." She continued slicing more meat and passed around plates with seal meat, potatoes, and carrots.

I watched Leah take a bite. "This is good," she said. "A little like beef, smooth and tender. A bit more gamey, and I think I taste a hint of the ocean as well."

My grandmother smiled at the compliment. As we ate, Leah and I kept looking at each other. My grandmother must have noticed, because she said, "Nivi is a two-spirit person. Few Inuit accept this, some reject it, and she has made it difficult for us."

I shouted, "Grandmother!"

**********

Chapter Thirteen

Sunday Afternoon

The Shoreline of Illulissat, Greenland

POV - Nivi, Acting Manager, Kiviuq Hotel

**********

Leah must have sensed something was wrong, and said, "My own culture rejects me because I do not have a permanent job, or a home, or a husband. I'm a bit of an outcast and move around in my country. I enjoy living in the mountains and think of myself as a wandering spirit."

I regretted saying the translated words the moment they passed my lips.

My grandparents dropped their plates and yelled, "Qivittoq! Qivittoq!" With a horrified look on their faces, they fled up the hill as if trying to escape a great danger. Along the shoreline, parents within earshot took children by the hand and walked rapidly away from us.

"What was all that?" Leah asked. "I'm sorry. I thought I was helping."

"Qivittoq are men or women, who due to shame, or a deep sense of anger, are banished. It is death to be alone in the wilderness with no support from the village. Once gone, our society considers them to be dead. Qivittoq roam around abandoned settlements, live in caves, or hide in the mountains. To survive they develop animal-like instincts, becoming hungry and aggressive. Some believe they take on magical properties in order to survive. Even after death, they remain this way, as ghosts or wandering spirits."

Leah said, "Surely, no one believes in Qivittoq today."

"To most Greenlanders, Quivittoq are as real as you and I. Some Greenlanders even fear walking inland on the chance of meeting one. Qivittoq means 'Mountain Walker' in Greenlandic. I told my grandparents in our language you lived in the mountains and are a wandering spirit. To them, that makes you a Qivittoq, and they will never accept you as anything else. Even worse, they will tell others how they met a Qivittoq today in Ilulissat!"

**********

Chapter Fourteen

Monday Morning

The Airport at Illulissat, Greenland

POV - Nivi, Acting Manager, Kiviuq Hotel

**********

I pulled on the parking lot at the airport and announced, "We're here."

"Yeah," Leah replied sadly.

We had spent the whole night together at my house, talking about our future. What is, what could be, and what will never be. After checking in for her flight, Leah sat next to me. These would be our last moments together before she boarded her plane back to Copenhagen.

I looked at Leah and said, "You will forever be known in Ilulissat as a Quivittoq, a wandering spirit. I am an Inuit, and I fear your country will not accept me and will treat me the same way as a Quivittoq."

"Do not fear such a thing, Nivi. You would be welcomed in Norway."

"It is more than that, Leah. Ilulissat is my home, and the Kalaallit are my people. How am I to choose between you and my heritage?"

"I understand," said Leah. "I have only been here for a few days, but I have seen the connection between your people and the land. I am a nomad, and although I love Norway, I have never felt a similar connection. It is so beautiful here. So amazing. I felt something special as if the spirits in your land somehow called out to me. But even more important, I felt my spirit touch yours."

I replied, "And I felt it too."

Leah said, "I need time to think. There has to be a way for us to be together."

An announcement was made to begin boarding, and I hugged Leah for the last time. We kissed in the Inuit style, one I did not want to end, for I knew what that meant. Finally, Leah broke away, picked up her backpack, and walked out the terminal door to her plane. She climbed the stairs to her plane, then turned and waved. I wondered if I would ever see her again.

I began to cry. The spirit inside Leah can never be captured. It is too powerful. I have but one heart, and right now, my heart is full of pain, torn between two peoples.

I whispered Leah's last words to myself, "There has to be a way." Through the window, I watched the red Air Greenland plane take off. On the tail are a series of white dots, radiating outward in spokes, the design representing frost flowers. These small, delicate ice structures grow in clusters atop a thin briny layer on the surface of newly formed sea ice. Science is still unsure how this happens. Perhaps it is by magic. Magic? Magic! That's it! I will speak to the Angakkuq! Our wise shaman must know a way to convince my grandparents to accept Leah, so we can be together!

THE END

**********

Author's Notes

**********

My exposure to the Inuit culture was very brief, and I have added some of my own research to this story. I apologize if I have inaccurately portrayed any aspect of their unique and fascinating culture.

If you enjoyed this story, you may also wish to read my recent poem entitled 'Greenland'.

The Kiviuq Hotel mentioned in this story is fictional. I took the name from a famous Inuit hero named Kiviuq. He is known as the "Eternal Inuit Wanderer" because he undertook long and arduous quests, similar to Odysseus, and not dissimilar to Leah. The Inuit have a long tradition of storytelling, and I was surprised to learn how well-developed their mythology is.

The ice instruments are described in greater detail in my story, "Searching for Amarillo, Part 2", which features an Ice Music Festival held in Norway several years ago. The story is the third one in my Chasing Fairies trilogy.

Leah was introduced in my lesbian story, "A Wandering Spirit". While winter kayaking in a Norwegian fjord, a sudden storm forces her to stop paddling for the night and seek shelter on the shore. Cold and wet, Leah receives unexpected help from two women with unusual abilities.

The helicopter pilot, Captain Torstein Berge, Royal Norwegian Air Force, appears in my historical romance, "Sic Transit Gloria Mundi". He assists an investigation by the RAF into two WWII identity discs found in an old German bunker in Bergen. The mystery deepens after the RAF learns the discs once belonged to a pilot who was presumed shot down over the cold North Sea.