Dooku didn't expect Sören to call him immediately, so he was not particularly surprised when the day after the gallery opening, there was no call. He was a bit more surprised when one day turned into three, and by the time of the fifth day, Dooku began to assume there would be no call.
Dooku was however still interested in the paintings - and somewhat disappointed that he wasn't going to get a chance to get to know the man who had painted them. He decided to call Leja, and see if she could coordinate the purchase of those paintings, and possibly contacting Sören for a commission. But he didn't state that as his business when he called her - he genuinely wanted to see his daughter, and have a real opportunity to catch up. It had been too long.
Leja suggested they go for Indian food. Dooku got a reservation, and showed up early, and was brought to the table right away; he was there when Leja showed up. Dooku was in his usual "evening out" attire - black tunic and trousers with brown cape. Leja wore a steel blue pantsuit, hair in its usual braided bun. Sapphires gleamed in her ears, and Dooku had no doubt they were the real article.
"You didn't bring Hans with you?" Dooku asked.
"He had to work late," Leja said, "but he says hello."
Dooku nodded. He passed Leja a menu, even though he knew she would probably order chicken tikka, as she always did, and he would order lamb vindaloo, as he always did; they also ordered a plate of samosa pastries to share. A basket of fresh naan was set down, and Dooku and Leja broke bread together.
"Thank you for having me at the gallery opening," Dooku said.
"Thank you for coming," Leja said. "I know you don't like crowds of people, and it means a lot that you were willing to endure that for me."
"Well, I do enjoy art," Dooku said. "There was one artist in particular - you and he spoke briefly while I was there -"
"Ah yes, Sören." Leja nodded.
"I take it you and he met during one of your trips to Reykjavik?"
A pause, and Leja laughed nervously. Dooku braced himself. Leja said, "His brother is dating my son."
"Which one?"
This had been the first time Leja had voluntarily brought up her sons in months. She had twins, Matt and Ben. Matt had left the UK five years ago and was now living in Canada, working as a radar technician. Ben had left for Japan around the same time Matt left, and Ben was why Leja didn't like to bring up the boys; Hans had encouraged Ben to go to Japan, being that he was half-Japanese and Ben a quarter and some of the Sulu family was still there, but after he'd lived in Tokyo for awhile Ben changed his name to Kylo Ren, started a visual kei band called the Knights of Ren, and the Knights of Ren had recently become internationally famous... or, more accurately, infamous. The Knights of Ren had evolved from a more generic visual kei band into a bit of a shock rock sensation, with Kylo Ren pulling outrageous stunts onstage and inciting controversy that rivaled that of Ozzy Osbourne, Alice Cooper, and Marilyn Manson. One of the many controversies of the Knights of Ren was claiming to be vampires, and Kylo Ren had also claimed to completely disavow his family per "an ancient vampire oath" - Leja and Hans and Matt had no contact with Kylo after this happened, despite trying to get in touch with him. Some months back, Marilyn Manson had mocked Kylo Ren in the press, calling him a "wannabe" and telling him "call your mom, you pathetic fuck", and Kylo's response had been to burn a gigantic effigy of Marilyn Manson in Paris while singing the hit "Burn Hot Topic"; over the last few months a rash of masked, cowl-wearing youths had begun setting fire to Hot Topic stores in the US screaming "FUCK MARILYN".
"Matt," Leja said.
Dooku nodded, breathing a small sigh of relief that this wouldn't involve the latest Kylo Ren drama - he was already tired of seeing it on the news.
"Sören has a brother and a sister," Leja said. "I'm friendly with the sister."
The way Leja said "friendly" made Dooku raise an eyebrow - Leja and Hans were in an open relationship, and Dooku was aware Leja was bisexual. Dooku wanted to comment on "friendly", especially since Sören and his siblings seemed to be the same age of Leja's children, but he chose not to.
"Anyway," Leja said, "Sören has been in London for awhile, and I promised him when the gallery opened he could showcase there. As you've noticed, he's very talented and I would love to see his work get more exposure. He deserves to be able to make a living from his art and dedicate his life to that if he wants to."
"He does," Dooku said. "I was quite impressed with him." Dooku caught himself. "Er, his paintings."
Now it was Leja's turn to raise an eyebrow, and her lips quirked. Before she could say anything in response, the waiter brought their food, steaming hot from the kitchen. Dooku poured both himself and Leja a cup of tea.
They ate while their food was hot, and then midway into their meal Leja wouldn't let it go. "So Sören's work caught your eye, did it?"
"I found it fascinating."
"I bet you did."
Dooku glared, and then his phone went off.
Any other time Dooku would have been annoyed to be interrupted in the middle of dinner, but now it was a lifesaver. Dooku reached for the flip phone in his pocket. He didn't recognize the number on the other end. "Hello," he said.
Click.
"Hm." Dooku put the phone down on the table, next to his plate, and resumed eating. Leja was dipping her naan in the sauce now, almost finished with her meal. A minute later, Dooku's phone went off again. It was the same number. "Hello," Dooku snapped.
A deep breath. "Er, hello... um... you know, you never gave me your name."
It took a few seconds for it to register with Dooku, and then he recognized the lilt, the rolling r's, the soft voice. "Sören. Hello."
"Hello... you."
Dooku laughed nervously. "My name is Ion Nicolae Dooku. Everyone calls me by my surname, Dooku."
"...Why?"
"They just do." Dooku cleared his throat. "Sören, I'm in the middle of dinner here -"
"HI SÖREN," Leja yelled, waving.
"Oh, is that Leja?" Sören raised his voice so Leja could hear, and Dooku had to move the phone away from his ear. "Halló Leja, hvað segirðu?"
"Allt fínt, takk!" Leja laughed.
Dooku put the phone back to his ear. "Yes, as you can tell, I'm having dinner with Leja, so perhaps you should call me back later?"
"Jæja, but this won't take long, já? I have your handkerchief."
The way Sören said "handkerchief", Dooku found it oddly adorable, and picturing Sören say it made him smile. He felt a little flutter in his stomach, and then immediately kicked himself internally, feeling foolish for having such a reaction, especially at his age, to someone Sören's age. "Oh, you did have it laundered?"
"I told you I would. And you wanted to talk to me about a commission?"
"I did. I'm having Leja handle the aspect of buying the paintings currently in the gallery, when we're finished with dinner here, but perhaps we could get together so you could help me find suitable spots to hang them in my home?"
"I, uh, don't go to strangers' houses on the first meeting? No offense. We could maybe go have lunch or dinner somewhere first and then I'll see if I'm comfortable going to your house at a later date?"
"Fair enough." Dooku had seen enough about predators and kidnappings on the news to understand Sören's caution, caution probably intensified by Dooku knowing Sören was Force-sensitive. Dooku pulled out a pocket calendar and thumbed through the pages. "I have the weekend free, how does Saturday afternoon sound?" It was Thursday evening, so that was a day and a half away.
"2 PM?"
"2 PM is perfect. Where would you like to meet?"
Sören suggested a pub in Southwark. That was a bit working-class for Dooku, and he would have gladly paid for Sören to eat somewhere more upscale, but he could sense in the Force that Sören was already nervous, never mind feeling indebted to someone who was still a stranger, so Dooku agreed.
"All right, I will see you then," Sören said. "Have a good evening, Nico."
Sören hung up before Dooku could tell him nobody calls me Nicolae. He knew from years around Icelanders that it was convention to use a first name rather than surname with Icelandic names, but he wasn't an Icelander...
When Dooku flipped his phone closed, the amused look on Leja's face amused and infuriated him all at once.
"What?" Dooku snapped, glaring.
"You're blushing," Leja said.
"I just ate spicy food. It's normal to be a little flushed -"
"Dad, I've seen you eat lamb vindaloo dozens of times and not flush like that," Leja said. "You got a twinkle in your eye when you asked me about Sören. It's all right to fancy him, he's very hot."
"Have you...?"
"No. He's also very gay." Leja smirked. "Up until now, I didn't know you were."
Dooku wished he could use the Force to drill a hole in the floor and crawl there and die. "I don't know what I am," Dooku said. "Just an old man, who's been married to his job for the better part of forty years."
"I know you're lonely, Dad," Leja said.
Dooku sighed. He wasn't going to deny that some part of him craved companionship and touch, but he wasn't the type of person to have someone for the sake of having someone.
"Anyway," Leja said, "I hope this date with Sören goes well."
"It's not... a date."
Leja smirked. "OK. If you say so."
"Check, please."
chapter 3 | return to Northern Lights | return to Other Tolkien Fic | return to index