The next day, they passed through a pretty country, a woodland with copses of beeches and aspens alternating with grassy meadows and threaded by babbling brooks. Strange that no one had settled what seemed ideal country.
As Dahl fell to his belly to take a drink from a stream, a strange voice called out:
"Stand up youngling that I might take thy measure."
Dahl jumped to his feet and spun around to confront a giant of a man. He loomed over the elf, standing well over seven feet tall and massively built, with shoulders as wide as an ox yoke. The red-haired giant wore a sleeveless leather jerkin over a dark green blouse and deerskin trews and stout sandals.
The hilt of a two-handed sword protruded over his right shoulder. His left hand gripped a quarterstaff, one end planted planted on the ground next to him.
Clean shaven, and with a handsome leonine profile, he regarded the elf steadily, a half-smile on his friendly face. A broad leather belt carried a dagger a hatchet, a cudgel, and a canteen.
For all his size and weaponry, the stranger seemed benign rather than threatening, and the wink he gave Dahl left no doubt that he would not mind sampling the elf's charms.
"Well, sir, as you can see by my diminutive stature, my measure really doesn't amount to much, though, in my defense, I should say that I have always thought that my slight physique was more about quality than about quantity."
"Which would be my department, of course," the giant answered genially. "Small you are but well-knit together, but then the elves were ever a fine looking people, and you are among the very best of the best. What are you doing in these parts so far from any of your people or anyone else for that matter?"
"Just passing through. I hope we haven't trespassed on your lands or somehow given offense, sir giant."
"We?" he asked, looking around.
"That would be my cue to show myself," Merry mind-spoke to them, stepping out of the woods.
"Unusual company too, a unicorn no less. Wait, is that you, Merry? Forgive me, you one-horns really do all look alike."
"I suppose I should take offense at that Balandur, but I am just glad to have run into you. This is my protege Dahlderon, or Dahl for short."
"Short he is for sure, so Dahl, I shall call him. But only your protege, is he, Merry? Such an exquisite elf with that impossibly pretty face, slight build and clean limbs, running around without a stitch on. Humph. That pert rump of his constitutes a perpetual courtship display. Everyone knows how keen unicorns are on elves, from having been elves themselves in a previous life. It's a wonder if you haven't mounted him yet."
"Sounds like you fancy Dahl yourself. Don't you then, Balan?"
"Why shouldn't I? Only a blind man would not be stirred by his beauty. He is a walking wet dream."
Dahl flushed. They might make a game of their banter and sexual innuendo, but it made him squirm the way they talked about him liked that. It seemed that every male he met wanted to take him carnally, either by blandishment, by payment, or by force.
He suddenly realized that physical beauty like his had a downside to it. Combined with his slight build and perpetual nudity, it made others look at him hungrily seeing him not as a person in his own right, but as a sex toy for them to play with, to possess, to mount, and to fuck.
Still, he could not deny his own attraction to the giant, standing there the very embodiment of strength and manliness.
Thunderstruck by the giant's overwhelming masculinity, the elf stood transfixed, mind awhirl as he wondered what it would be like to be hugged by those huge arms and nearly engulfed in that huge body.
What would it be like to be covered by such a giant, taken like a stallion, takes a filly. Or would he want Dahl on his back, heels in the air, legs in a wishbone? Were the giant's manhood were in proportion, he might literally tear Dahl apart.
Dahl's eyes widened as his gaze traveled down to the bulge in the giant's trews. The elf's face reflected his conflicting emotions, lust and anticipation warring with trepidation for his bodily integrity, as he visualized himself impaled on the giant's prong.
The giant grinned, having followed the lad's gaze and guessed his thoughts.
"I don't need mind powers to know what you are thinking, young man." he chuckled amiably.
He then stepped close enough to reach out and to take the elf in hand, as it were, cupping his chin and turn his face side to side, putting his huge hands to the elf's shoulders then running his fingers lightly down the chevron of his ribs, even weighing and gauging his shapely genitals, skinning back the foreskin with his thumb and rolling the spheres in the palm of one giant hand.
His ministrations had the expected effect as Dahl's already half way tumescent cock plumped up further and lifted toward the sky. The giant nodded approvingly.
Dahl wanted to protest, to say that he could control himself. He wasn't wanton by nature. His half-erection from the giant's roaming hands was involuntary -- just a hormonal reaction to tactile stimulation.
As to standing there so meekly while the giant felt him up, surely it was not Dahl's fault that elves were sexually submissive. And everyone knows that the dicks of young men often have minds of their own especially after manipulation by super masculine strangers.
Besides, it would only be polite, age-old custom among elves being what it was, that he not only let other males pet his body and toy with his manhood but actually to offer to satisfy their carnal desires.
Between the dictates of custom and his own cravings, Dahl knew that before the end of the day the giant would likely have him on his knees or on all fours, letting the giant take his pleasure of him, as so many had done in his short life already.
Dahl wondered whether Merry would watch their lovemaking. Would he enjoy the spectacle vicariously? Would he insist on a turn for himself and cover the elf like a stallion does a filly?
Giddily, Dahl thought maybe the way to thwart the dark force was for him to seduce the physical incarnation of evil before the coming battle and turn him from his foul purpose.
It wasn't vanity for Dahl to acknowledge that even for an elf, he was extraordinarily beautiful and sexy. He suggested as much to the unicorn who responded with a head butt that put him down on his ass.
"Don't even think that! The avatar would use your sexuality to turn you from the light, to turn you to his own dark purposes. I am not the only being who can transform the right kind of elf by sexual impregnation."
Dahl was appalled at this bit of news. Gods, was there no end to the use that magic could make of his small elvish body. Now he had to worry that an incarnation of evil might seduce him, literally fucking him into joining the wrong side.
The giant warrior explained what had brought him to these woods.
"I had reports of Trackers in the hills to the southeast, heading this way, so I came to check things out."
"Do you think they are coming for us?"
"You could probably answer that better than I could. What are you doing here anyway, Merry, and why with this callow youth in tow?"
The unicorn explained his mission and asked the giant to join them at least till they got clear of the Trackers.
"What are these Trackers?" Dahl asked.
"Demon spawn, Dahl, dire-wolves sired by demons, so they are half-demon themselves and very hard to kill. They never give up once they take the scent.
"What can we do then?"
"We shall camp here for the night. This vale is warded by elven magics from the old days, which is why no one lives hereabouts. We shall be safe till the morrow. Then we shall see. Meanwhile, we still have two hours of light. Let us put it to good use with some weapons practice. Have you ever used a staff before elf?"