A tiny chapel, made of wood and painted in a warm, dark red, was perched on one of Iceland’s little rolling hills close to the sea. Small white crosses stood in neat, short rows and made long shadows in midsummer’s endless dawn. An old woman knelt before one, smiling softly, and lifted up the chunk of ice that she had brought. She glanced around her, making sure she was alone, then ran a finger over it and hummed a tune.

The ice, it swirled and morphed under her touch and formed a rose in perfect, sparkling detail. She gently laid it down before the cross. A single, glistening tear wound its way down her wrinkled cheek, but she still smiled and whispered softly to the wind, “Goodbye, my love, my heart. May your soul soar among the spirits of the sky.”

Then she stood up. Had anybody watched, he would have seen her thin, grey hair turn full and bright. He would have noticed with astonishment that all her wrinkles disappeared and that her skin grew blemishless and pale. He would have found no explanation how her lips grew cherry red and full again, and how the eager spark of youth once more was back in her bright eyes.

But she, the woman who had shaken off her age, was far too caught up in her memories to realize, and while her steps grew stronger with each blink, she thought back to that fateful, wondrous day.

* * * *

Mist rolled along the ragged edges of the crevice, churning, twisting, and a cold wind howled in from the open sea. Icy rain relentlessly pelted Holly’s face, but she did not care. She did not even notice the overwhelming smell of sulfur anymore when her mouth opened to set free a desperate, gut-wrenching scream. She watched the tendrils, barely visible fingers of cruel light, reach out from Bárðarbunga's depth and wrap around her friend, and in that moment, all hope died.

Lucy teetered on the edge for a long moment, both arms raised towards her friend, seeking help, but hopelessly far away. Then the rumbling under their feet began once more and, without mercy, the loose, black gravel under Lucy’s feet started to roll again, and she slid closer and closer toward the bubbling mound of reddish glowing lava.

Holly could not breathe. She could not scream anymore, and she had to watch her friend get pulled towards her certain doom. ‘I never told her.’ The thought hit her like a hammer in her guts.

Her world shattered.

Silence settled like a blanket, and everything froze.

A single ray of sun broke through the endless, rolling mass of clouds covering the sky, and where it touched the ground, the air wobbled and flickered.

Then she saw her, tall and with hair in pure white that reached down to her bare knees, hair that fluttered in the wind without regard for rain and ice. Bluish strands danced in between the white, blue like glaciers on a sunny day. Her lips, full and seductive, mirrored the bubbling lava right behind her, and her eyes -- fear shot through Holly, devastating terror -- were of a charcoal black.

The woman walked towards her, clad in nothing but a flimsy gown, and she was beautiful beyond mere words.

“I’m snapping,” Holly mumbled to herself. “I’m -- oh God, Lucy!” Her wail of anguish battled hard against the wind but lost and faded.

The woman’s expression stayed unreadable. She came to stop just an arm’s length away and looked Holly slowly up and down. Holly wanted to rage, to scream at her to do something to rescue her friend, but what good would shouting at her figment of imagination do?

The eyes, once more, came to rest upon Holly’s own, and the terror welled up anew. The full, glowing lips parted slowly, and puffs of swirling mist carried the softest voice she’d ever heard towards her ears.

“You saw. You see.”

“I do not understand. But you’re not real!”

Two sleek hands reached out for Holly’s face and took her by surprise. A soft, pained smile flickered over the woman’s face for just a moment. Then there was darkness.

No, not darkness, but the swirling, cold green blue of the deep sea. Then fire welled, and she watched on as molten rock spewed from the bottom of the sea and rose and rose in pillars to the top. It broke the surface, steaming, bubbling, and she gasped for air with wide, astonished eyes.

Before her eyes, an island came to be, the flowing lava hardening to stone. Wind and rain assaulted it at once. Rocks turned to sand under the onslaught, and even while huge plumes of smoke still spread above the newborn land, birds built their homes and trees and grass sprung from the barren ground.

The plumes dissipated. Men came on wooden ships. Sheep grazed the grass, small horses raced along the tracks and huts and fires became visible along the shores.

Black sand and ashes soon replaced the grass again. The trees were gone. Hunger filled the air and desperation covered blanket-like the land. Fresh plumes of smoke rose from the ground and lava spewed from hundred growing mountains, thundering a song of rage.

Then she saw her. That same white hair now fluttering behind her in the storm, she crouched down in the middle of jagged rocks and ice and trembled. Pain wracked her face and tears streamed down pale cheeks, but through sheer will the woman pushed away all that and reached a finger to the ground.

The thunder stopped. Volcanos went to sleep again and where she touched, the ice thawed and fresh grass grew from the soil.

The sun broke through and songs of birds filled up the air. Geysers blew hot steam towards the sky, creating pretty rainbows, and rivers started flowing to the sea.

“Oh God!” Holly stumbled backwards, landing awkwardly on her behind, not knowing what to think or say and overwhelmed by what she’d seen.

A soft smile played around the woman’s lips. “Now you know.”

And Holly knew. Deep inside her, the knowledge’s root was planted, and even though her mind still screamed of madness, understanding came, and with it also… hope?

“Lucy!” she gasped and scrambled to her feet. “My friend! She’s…”

“Come.”

The woman’s hand reached out for hers, but for a moment all of Holly’s thoughts brought images of death.

Her breath grew fast and shallow.

“Come,” the woman urged again, gripped her hand and guided her towards the edge.

“Lucy!” It was just a gasp. Frozen still in time, her friend still stood just a few feet below the crater’s rim, both hands reaching upwards and with eyes so full of fear that it broke Holly’s heart again. “No!” she screamed in helpless protest. “Not Lucy! No! Not her!”

She was twirled around until she faced the woman. “The fire gives. It warms and nourishes us all, but for what it gives, it also needs to take. It is the law of fire and ice.”

Rage and despair like she had never felt before welled up in Holly, but then she took a breath of icy air and clarity took hold of her.

“Take me then,” she demanded, and when the woman didn’t instantly react, she gripped her by the shoulders. “Please! Take me! You -- God, you do not even know her! She is so -- wonderful! She mustn’t die!”

“I see.” The woman’s hands once more cupped her cheeks, but no visions came to Holly this time. Instead, a smile spread on the woman’s lips. “You love her.”

“Yes, I do.” It was the first time that she said the truth aloud, and now too late.

“And you would willingly switch places with her now, knowing all that waits is just a painful, fiery grave?”

Holly caught her fingers digging painfully into the woman’s skin and let her go. “Anytime. I will.”

This kiss was unexpected. Cool lips pressed tightly against Holly’s own, and then a tinkling laughter rang like crystal bells in Holly’s ears. She stumbled back.

“Do not forget. One day the fire and ice will ask their price, and while no life needs taking, do make sure to love. For once that payment’s due, your only loves left will be Iceland’s fire and ice. We’ll meet again, on the endless dawn, where the water spans a curtain to the sun.”

“Wait!” The woman’s form began to shimmer, but Holly’s fingers gripped her wrist. “What -- who are you? What does it mean?”

“Haven’t you guessed? You call us elves, or hidden people. We call ourselves the wardens of the land, preservers of the fire and ice and keepers of the balance. I am Hekla.”

“Hekla, as in…”

“...the volcano that is my home. But I must go.”

*****

In an eye’s blink, Hekla faded from her sight, and Holly’s hand clenched empty air. Hissing, rumbling, bubbling once more filled the air, and with a mighty, “Ooof,” she toppled backwards, Lucy in her arms.

“Oh God! Oh God! I almost…” Lucy’s trembling lips were just an inch from Holly’s own.

“But you didn’t.” Awe and wonder swung in Holly’s voice, followed then by joy. “You didn’t!” And before she could think twice, she pressed her lips against those of her friend and poured all emotions she had penned up deep inside herself for years into that single, loving kiss.

Her heart sung out in joy when Lucy didn’t pull away but answered her lips’ touches with her own, and then she parted them and tongues sneaked out to dance that old, intimate dance of love.

“You…?” Holly gasped in joyful disbelief and felt a tear streak down her cheek.

“Forever,” Lucy answered, misty-eyed, and once more attacked her mouth with breathless need.

Nervous, trembling fingers nestled with the zippers of their clothes, no word necessary to transport their urgency. Jackets, trousers, tops flew to the ground.

Then, no remains of modesty were left, and Holly gasped, bedded on a mattress of discarded clothes as Lucy knelt astride her thighs. “So beautiful,” she whispered, trailing fingertips in teasing little circles upwards Lucy’s legs, drinking in the absolute perfection of her lover’s firm, round breasts and gasped in wonderful delight when Lucy leaned towards her chest and caught a hardened nipple with her lips.

“I love you,” she confessed into her lover’s ear and let her hands discover every soft, smooth patch of skin. Their hungry lips trailed burning lines of love across each other’s body, only to meet up in fiery kisses in between, and without conscious thought, their thighs slid smoothly over heated mounds.

The cold, the wind, the wetness didn’t matter. Sparkling drops soon coated all their skin but only added to their beauty, and between their thighs burned bubbling hot volcanos needing to erupt.

They held their motions, and a look of understanding passed. Holly couldn’t grasp her joy when Lucy’s fingers slid between her moist, hot petals, so forbidden and so intimate. She gently mirrored Lucy’s touches, slow and teasing, full of love.

Their breaths hitched in time when daring fingertips pushed deeper inside satin folds. Moans filled the air. Holly gyrated her hips on that delicious finger spearing her and felt her walls clench down on it to never let it go. She moved her own first out, then in, and felt delicious trembles race through Lucy’s womb.

Their kisses soon turned frenzied. Holly felt a joy she’d never known bubble up on waves of heated pleasure from her loins, and then she toppled off the cliff and tumbled through the purest love.

She came and came, with Lucy’s name flowing forth in jubilation from her lips, and heard her own name shouted in delight as they both writhed in passion, surrounded by fire and ice.

Close by, behind a pillar of basalt, a beautiful, white-haired woman wiped away a tear and smiled.

* * * *

The waterfall of Seljaland gushed eagerly from high above. The low sun broke and sparkled in its spray. Holly took another careful step along the mossy cave.

A white-haired, timeless beauty joined her walk. “You did well,” she told her with a smile and took her hand.

Then they were gone.

* * * *

Hidden from the mortal eye, a beautiful blond woman overheard a bunch of youngsters plan a trip across the steaming field and saw, hours before it happened, rocks cave in and boiling heat gush from the ground. She took a breath and poked a backpack. It went careening down the slope and, with a splash, landed in a hot, acidic pond.

She giggled at the outcry. No journey over steaming fields today. Inside the backpack’s pocket was its owner’s money and a treasured photograph. Slowly, both dissolved.

It was just a tiny price, but it fulfilled the law of fire and ice.