Bergljot

Bergljot and the Woodchopper

Once upon a time... within the woods of the old north where mountains grew far and wide, down from the hills she came, the mountain troll disguised as a maiden. Her name was Bergljot, her nose was like a hook, her hair shaggy moss, skin like a boar and horns and fangs all the same. Down she came, trotting, into the woods when there she saw a handsome young man, the woodchopper. Fair and tall he was, his body slim and broad with hair like gleaming gold and the eyes were like jewels. He gazed upon her with disgust and told the hag he said:

"Be gone; be gone, beast of the night. Trouble me no more, be off, or thou shall be skinned like this log."

The maiden sank her gaze, treading lightly toward him, she fell to her knees. Softly speaking, she asked of him:

(1) "Woodchopper, woodchopper, fair and bold, I grant thee this gift, and to me, thou'll be betrothed." <Ghast> the young man sneered revolted. But then the maiden brought forth a horse wild and strong, hair black as the night, darker than the coldest blight. The young man brightened with a smile. He accepted the horse, though not pleased as of yet he told the maiden:

"I take this with care; thou shall fill my days with delight. Come back tomorrow, and I shall give my vow in the cold light of night." The maiden smiled and off she went, into the woods in which she spent. But when the moon was bright, the man never came. On knees, she wept that she was one to blame.

Next came the day and the sun was high; the man was back with bliss in his eye. He chopped and carved; his arms though strong, turned pale and bright like the moon that had gone. Into his land the maiden came, again on her knees she began to claim:

(2) "Woodchopper, woodchopper, fair and bold, I grant thee this gift, and to me, thou'll be betrothed." "Fiend!" The young man <Ghasped> with fright:

"Be gone; be gone, out of my sight. Gaze upon this filth, my hands drenched in blight." The maiden bowed and offered him a shirt of the whitest silk, neither sown nor threaded, whereupon the breast buttons of gold were embedded. The young man took the shirt; its silk-covered his devilish skin and told her again he did with words so thin:

"Come back tomorrow when the bells are ringing, there in the glade, I shall give my answer when the birds are singing." The maiden smiled and off she went, again to the forest where the night she spent. When morning came, the bells came on ringing, but the man never showed, and no birds were singing. Fooled yet again, she wept until night; till the moon was past and Ravens took flight.

Later that day the man was back, with an axe in hand he struck with a hack. Timber fell and sun rays gleamed, when onto him there came a stroke, and horror he had ever seen. Ears long and pointy and a mouth foul and sore, when later on the maiden came, and with a heavy heart, she asked him once more:

(3) "Woodchopper, woodchopper, fair and bold, I grant thee this gift, and to me, thou'll be betrothed."

"Demon!" the young man cried, his voice no longer golden: "A curse upon me. My skin is torn, my face is moulded. Neither axe can I hold, my hand unfolded." The maiden bowed, and onto him, she bestowed a mighty sword, a hilt of gold, blade bright and gleamed, gems of red and green and powers beyond dreams. The young man held the sword aloft, wherein the sun its edge then glossed. The maiden smiled and he told her to wait:

"Come back tomorrow, I shall meet thee at the gate." And off she strolled, into the woods amongst twig and aching cold. But when morning arrived, and she stood at the gate, there was no one there, only trees and bark. Down she fell, weeping at her feet. Is this my faith, will I be lost in the dark?

There came then the final day, the man stood broad and strong at the bay. With a swing of his sword no man challenged his arm, when at last the maiden came the final hour, her body worn out as days turned sour:

(4) "Woodchopper, woodchopper, fair and bold," she pleaded, wrinkled and old: "I grant thee this gift, and to me, thou'll be betrothed."

She pleaded for his blessing. The young man laughed, bragging of his power impressing:

"My arm is strong; my will is fierce. Undefeated, I walk the land, my foe whose heart I pierce. Though missing still is the peak of my power, grant me a fortress in which I shall tower. A kingdom of the divine, a yard full of treasure, and in my wake shall come, a king beyond measure." The maiden granted his wish, a goal so desired. And there a tower raised, walls miles high, a sight to behold one you could admire. This was her final gift to where she demanded his word, the young man merely laughed, gleeful as a fluttering bird. Once again, he told her the same:

"Come back tomorrow, and I shall call thee by name. In the garden of dozen roses, my blushing bride to be; a queen of most desire, forever mine alone, where other men shall crawl or burn by pyre." The maiden smiled, her final hour ahead. Her strength had run dry and her body almost dead. The day came at last, and she waited till night. But the man never came, he was nowhere in sight.

High atop the young man cheered, his hall of gold flourished with gems both red and clear. His sword was sheathed, the shirt in sheen. The horse tall and neighing, a king clothed in gold and green. But when the sun came down, a curse fulfilled, a wave of furious anger and blood were later spilt. By his hand, he slaughtered many, women and children their bodies spread. With rage, the beast had awakened, in fear the man fled in terror. In the darkness of the woods they heard him growl:

(5) "Bergljot; Bergljot hear my howl! I take thee as my bride, though rid me of the curse, my skin so pale and foul. Hear me, oh maid of the land, take back what you have given and thou shall have my hand!" But no maiden ever came. When sunlight rose, the young man gazed, in the eyes of an angel whose hair gold and glazed. Within the light, she spread her wings, her feet so light, and around her neck a pair of golden rings. Through leaves there whispered a gentle voice:

"Be that as it may, for I have made my choice. I now leave this earth, neither weeping nor grieving. Keep your gifts for when I sore into the evening. Do not be frightened, ye who bears my face. For beauty lies within and is what we all shall embrace. Farewell now, and do not weep. Forever with you, I'll be, and thou love I shall always keep."

Then in a beam of light, she descended, took her final goodbye. With tears of sorrow, the man turned to stone, deep in the woods he stands there today, a man long forgotten, silent and alone.