"Við erum hérna til að sjá Katrín Tollasdóttir."
The clerk looked at Ari, then at Dagnýr, Matt, Sören and Dooku. "Það eru fimm af þér?"
"Já."
The clerk shook her head with a small, apologetic frown. "Við leyfum hámark fjórum í einu. Einn af ykkur verður að bíða."
Ari sighed, nodded, and then looked at the others. "Only four of us can go in, one of us has to wait here."
Matt raised his hand. "I'll hang back, get some coffee."
Dagnýr patted Matt on the shoulder. "Thanks. Get me one too? I don't think I'll be in there super long."
Matt nodded. "OK." He gave Dagnýr a quick kiss on the cheek, and then they squeezed each other's hands, fingers brushing and lingering for a moment before Matt walked off in the direction of the hospital cafe.
The clerk then said, "Hún er í herbergi Þrír Núll Einn C."
"Takk." Ari gave a polite wave, and then said, "Third floor." Ari, Dagnýr, Sören and Dooku made their way down the hall to the elevator, and once they got in and the doors closed behind them, Dooku noticed Sören shifted his weight uncomfortably. Dooku reached for his hand.
I'm here, Dooku told Sören, directly into his mind, through the Force.
I get a little claustrophobic in elevators. Sören swallowed hard.
Dooku squeezed Sören's hand. We're almost there.
And then, the doors opened. The four men walked out; 301C was a bit of a walk, but it still didn't take long. Ari gave a nervous glance over his shoulder, and then he cleared his throat.
"Katrín, þú hefur gesti," a nurse said, and then gestured for Ari to come in.
A seemingly middle-aged woman with short auburn hair and dark eyes, wearing hospital greens, sat up in her bed and smiled. "Ari," she said.
"Halló móðir. Við höfum ensku hátalara með okkur svo ég biðja um að við tölum ensku svo að hann geti skilið allt."
Katrín raised an eyebrow, but then she nodded. "All right," she said, in heavily accented English.
"Hi, Aunt Kat," Dagnýr said.
And then it was Sören's turn. "Hello, Aunt Katrín."
Katrín's smile grew bigger. "Sören. Goodness. I haven't seen you in years."
Sören gave a nervous laugh. "Jæja. Dagnýr called me and told me... what was happening... and I took the first flight I could."
"Really? I'm touched, Sören. God bless you, that was good of you." Katrín gestured. "Come here."
Sören hesitantly stepped forward, and then walked slowly to the bed. Katrín put out her arms - Dooku noticed that Sören flinched as soon as her hands came near - but Sören gingerly bent and put his arms around the frail old woman. When they embraced, Katrín began coughing, and Sören quickly let go. The attending nurse rushed over, and Dooku watched as Katrín spat blood into a bedpan.
"Oh, no," Sören said, with a frown.
"Jæja, it's been like that," Katrín said. "It was alarming the first few times it happened but now... it just reminds me of the blood of Christ, that paid for my ticket home, where I'll be going soon to be with him."
Dagnýr looked over his shoulder at Dooku and rolled his eyes. Dooku smirked.
After some more coughing, and a sip of water, Katrín said, "So who is here that I have to speak English for?"
"Me," Dooku said, from towards the back of the room, near the door.
"And you are...?"
Sören cleared his throat. "That is my partner, Nico."
"Your... partner." Katrín gave Sören a disapproving glance.
"Já. My partner. As in, I am in a homosexual relationship with that man back there."
Katrín made a little hissing noise, and Sören's nostrils flared. Dooku braced himself.
"You know, Sören, when I'd asked to see you one last time," Katrín said, "I hoped that maybe you'd outgrown that, that it was just a phase, just like I'd hoped that silly painting of yours was just a phase and you'd go back to medical school. But on the chance that you were still involved in this... gay lifestyle of yours... I wanted you to see me like this. Close to death. So you would know that you, too, are not immortal - someday God may stop being merciful and may show his judgment, with AIDS -"
"Vaddírassgat!" Sören swore. "Ég ferðaði ekki alla þessa fjarlægð frá London til að heyra þetta kjaftæði."
"Now, now, Sören, aren't we supposed to be speaking English to be polite to your homosexual lover?" Katrín snorted. "Boyfriend? Isn't he a bit old for you?"
"I can't fucking believe you," Sören said.
"Don't swear at me," Katrín said. "Show some respect, especially when I'm dying over here."
"So you can shit all over me but I have to show you respect? I didn't come all this way for you to shove your fake, bullshit, garbage religion down my throat. I thought, years ago, when you apologized to me for how you were, that you meant it. But now you just disguise your abuse with religion -"
"This isn't abuse," Katrín said. "I wanted to show you what death looks like so you could think about your life and your choices and see the error of your ways and repent before it's too late so you don't burn in hell for all eternity. That isn't hatred, it's love."
"Aunt Kat," Dagnýr said, "I also came a long way, from Canada, with my boyfriend, who's in the cafe right now getting me some coffee. If you don't have anything nice to say, then I don't have anything to say to you and I'm going to get that coffee."
"You talk about abuse, and me not being nice... but you come here to flaunt your homosexual lifestyles and mock me..." Katrín shook her head. "I take it Magnús didn't come with you."
Sören actually growled at that.
Katrín let out a small, resigned sigh and sipped her water. "I'm not surprised. He hasn't spoken to me in years -"
"Margrét didn't come because you won't even show the common courtesy of using her proper name and pronouns," Sören snarled.
Katrín pinched the bridge of her nose, but continued to sip her water.
"You tell us you're sorry for the abuse, years ago, and you give us a song and dance about how you've changed and you're trying to be a better person, but here we are, we flew out here to be here for you, and you haven't changed at all." Sören's anger was visible now; Dooku could feel it crackling like electricity, and Dooku himself was angry and fighting the urge to say something himself.
"I have changed," Katrín said, but there was ice in her voice, the counterpoint to Sören's fire. "As I said. I tell you these things out of love, not hate. If I didn't care I would be fine with you burning in hell for all eternity, but I am not. And the Lord has given me so much peace in my life... and in my death. But you, Sören? You still seem so terribly unhappy." She reached out for Sören again, who flinched and backed away. "If you only accepted Christ -"
"Unlike you," Sören said, "I live in the real world, and can't just... magic away my problems."
"It seems," Dooku said, rather loudly, "that perhaps the reason why Sören might seem unhappy is because you have caused a tremendous deal of unhappiness in his life, and indeed, are causing it right now. He came all this way hoping that maybe you could put aside your differences to say goodbye, and have some sort of closure. A pity, that."
Katrín's eyes flashed, and her jaw set. She sat up in her bed, squaring her shoulders. "You don't know me," Katrín said.
"Believe me," Dooku said, "just in the course of a few minutes, I have seen all there is to know."
"Fine, then," Katrín said. She waved dismissively at Sören, who flinched again at her hand moving near him. "Go off to your homosexual lover, get AIDS, die and burn in hell." She glared at Dagnýr. "Both of you. Take Magnús with you." She glared back at Sören. "But someday, you'll see that I'm right -"
"You know what?" Sören snapped. "Even if you are right, which you're not? Any God that forgives someone like you of all the shit you did to poor, innocent, defenseless children because you just said 'I'm sorry, God, please forgive me'" - Sören said this in a whiny, mocking voice - "and he rewards you with heaven, but condemns someone like me to hell because I can't help who I love... condemns someone like my sister Margrét to hell because she can't help who she is, and she lived in fucking torment until she transitioned... fuck your God, fuck your heaven, I don't want to fucking go there and be surrounded by people like you!"
Sören stormed past Ari and Dagnýr and Dooku, to head out the door, but paused at the door to look over his shoulder and yell, "Riddu þér, helvítis hóra! "
Dooku was too stunned to move. Dagnýr nodded and said, "Yeah, I think I'll be leaving now."
"Mother," Ari said, "you were completely out of line."
"Oh, you're going to leave me too? My own son? You'd rather side with these homosexuals than the woman who gave birth to you -"
"The woman who gave birth to me and physically and verbally abused me for years," Ari said, "and is showing no sign that you've changed at all. Versus my actual family."
"You're just going to leave me here to die alone?"
"No," Ari said. "You already made that choice for yourself."
Dagnýr put an arm around Ari and turned him around; Dooku led the forward march out of the hospital room. Sören was already gone off the floor; they boarded the elevator and caught Sören near the cafe; Sören's face was flushed and he was in tears, shaking and hyperventilating like he was having a panic attack. Dooku's first response was to draw Sören close to him.
"I'm so sorry, love," Dooku whispered.
"I should have fucking known better," Sören sobbed. "I shouldn't have come here -"
Ari put his hand on Sören's shoulder. "I'm glad you came, if only so I could see you again."
Sören and Ari hugged then, and Dagnýr hugged both of them; Dooku noticed Dagnýr was crying too, now.
Dooku ordered coffee for himself, and a hot chocolate with whipped cream for Sören. The five men sat down at a table in the corner, in stunned, grieving silence.
When Dooku was almost done with his coffee, he saw Katrín's nurse walk into the cafe, nervously, and then her eyes met Dagnýr's and she hurried over.
"I just wanted to tell you," the nurse said, "I'm sorry for what happened in there. I wanted to say something but -"
"You're at work," Dagnýr said, nodding. "We understand."
The nurse turned to Dooku. "We're not all like this."
"I know," Dooku said. "Your country had a gay Prime Minister, it's consistently one of the most progressive on LGBT rights issues. I didn't think this was a majority opinion."
The nurse smiled apologetically and then she said, "I hope you enjoy the rest of your visit to Iceland."
"We'll certainly try." Dooku gave a small, thin smile back, and the nurse scuttled off.
"I fucking hate myself right now," Sören said, after she was gone. "I jumped on the first plane out here... Nico paid for it... he took time off work... for this."
"So... take a vacation?" Dagnýr shrugged. "And at least you got to see the rest of us again?"
Ari's phone went off then, he took the call, and managed a smile as he said, "Ah, Margrét." Margrét's voice on the other line, speaking fast Icelandic, and Ari nodded and after a minute he said, "Já, við erum nú þegar búnir með heimsókninni." Margrét again, and then Ari said, "Nei, það tók ekki langan tíma." "Frekar slæmt?" Dooku heard Margrét say. "Verri en versta von mín," Ari replied, with a sigh.
Margrét talked for a few more minutes, and then Ari said, "Það hljómar eins og góð hugmynd. Ég skal láta þig vita hvernig það gengur."
Dooku heard Margrét say, "Ég mun hitta þig þarna og sjá það sjálfur," with a little chuckle.
"Allt í lagi frábært! Sjáumst bráðlega." Ari pushed "End" on his conversation, and then said, "How do you guys feel about a little trip? Do you have anything else planned?"
Dagnýr shook his head. "I could use something to get my mind off everything that happened up there."
Sören nodded, and he looked at Dooku. "If you're OK with it -"
"Yes," Dooku said. "I'd rather not waste this trip."
Ari chuckled. "Margrét wants to take us on a field trip."
"Oh no," Sören said. His face lit up, and he turned to Dooku with a smirk. "You think you can handle this amount of fun?"
"Don't threaten me with a good time," Dooku said, laughing.
_
The Icelandic Phallological Museum, in Reykjavik, houses the world's largest display of penises and penile parts.
Dooku was walked into the museum blindfolded, as Sören wanted it to be a "surprise" - Sören seemed to know exactly what his sister had suggested, probably via their Force bond - and when the blindfold came off and Dooku was standing in front of penis specimens from different mammalian species, the look on Dooku's face made Sören start crying again... this time from wild, shrieking laughter that rang out through the museum.
Sören started taking pictures immediately.
Dooku couldn't even make words. He looked at the specimens of penises and penile parts, then at Sören, then at the specimens again, and at last, found his ability to make sound again.
That sound came out as a simple "Er."
Somehow, Dooku continued following Sören, Dagnýr, Matt, Ari, and Margrét through the museum, still not fully able to believe he was in a -
"Dick museum," Matt said. "There is actually a dick museum in Iceland. I knew you guys were weird, but not, like, dick museum weird."
"A dick museum isn't weird," Margrét said. She gestured to the samples that were labeled as being from huldufólk. "A museum claiming it has samples of elf dick? Now that's weird."
"OK but," Dagnýr said, "supposedly, there is a family legend that we're part-elf."
Sören snorted. "And I'm dating the Loch Ness monster." Sören pulled on the tips of his ears. "I don't know," he said, turning to Dooku. "What would you think of me with pointy ears?"
Dooku pictured Sören with pointy ears, and rather liked the mental image... which quickly turned into a mental image of him nibbling on the tip, licking it, as Sören moaned. Dooku didn't know where that came from, and then he realized Sören could see the mental movie as well; their eyes met and Sören blushed.
"Er," was all Dooku could say, again.
"Well," Dagnýr said, "every time I hear the stories about elves, and how some of them might have interbred with humans... hence the rumor that we're descended from elves..." Considering we can do this, Dagnýr spoke into the others' minds, discretely levitating a pen just above his index finger before wrapping his fingers around it. "I think maybe we were visited by aliens."
"Aliens?"
"I'm not saying it was aliens, but it was aliens."
Margrét made the "ok" gesture with her hand, and they continued walking, then she gestured to the badly-preserved, unfortunate human penis on display. "And here's the dick of the last guy who called me a slur -"
"Really?" Dooku's eyebrows went up.
"No," Margrét chuckled. "I wish."
Sören laughed at this like it was the funniest thing ever, and took some pictures of Margrét next to the human penis, throwing the metal horns and making faces.
The group visited the gift shop on their way out; Sören bought two bags of penis-shaped pasta, a penis mug, T-shirts in his and Frankie's sizes, and a "Willy warmer" that was a striped snake.
"Please tell me you don't intend on actually wearing that," Dooku said.
Sören just smirked and waggled his eyebrows. "Meh heh."
After the museum, Sören and Dooku rode in the direction of a hotel, where Sören had finally conceded to getting a room. A few blocks from the hotel, Sören pulled over.
"What are you doing?" Dooku asked.
"Getting a pylsa." Sören pointed at a hot dog cart.
Dooku got out of the jeep too. "Odd that you'd be in the mood for that after..."
Sören laughed. "I was almost a doctor. I've seen far worse, Nico."
Dooku shuddered.
Sören approached the cart. "Ein með öllu," he told the vendor, pulling out krónur. A moment later he had a hot dog in his hand. The bun was steamed, and the dog was topped with raw white onions and crispy fried onions, ketchup, sweet brown mustard, and remoulade, a sauce made with mayo, capers, and mustard.
Dooku had never eaten a hot dog, and after the museum he wasn't exactly in the mood for it, but he enjoyed watching Sören eat - Sören was clearly savoring it, and Dooku could feel the nostalgia through their Force bond. When Sören was finished he said, simply, "I haven't had a real pylsa since I left. They just don't make them the same way in England."
Sören and Dooku got back in the jeep, and Sören said, "It's a bit of a comfort food for me."
"Ah."
"When I was a kid." Sören looked down. "Katrín... wasn't horrible all the time. She was horrible a lot of the time, but once in awhile she'd do nice things like take us out for pylsur and ice cream. So when I eat a pylsa there's sort of that feeling of being a kid again."
"I'm very sorry for... what you went through," Dooku said with a sigh. "I can only imagine."
Sören nodded. "Já, I don't want to talk about it right now."
They checked into their hotel room - one bed. Dooku could feel Sören internally marveling at how "posh" it all was, even though it was far from the most expensive room Dooku could have gotten for his money. Sören called Frankie's aunt - his boss - and Dooku gave him some privacy. When Sören got off the phone he told Dooku, "I still have a job."
"That's good."
"I was a little worried." Sören sighed. "I can take a couple weeks here, if I need or want to, and still have a job to come back to. Now to call Frankie and tell her."
Sören was on the phone with Frankie for a good long time - Sören expressed some of his outrage over Katrín's homophobia and transphobia - but Dooku could feel in the Force that Sören didn't want to work himself up too much, so eventually the conversation topic changed to "the dick museum". Dooku had learned that Sören enjoyed making other people laugh, especially Frankie, whose laughter he could hear even when he was in the bathroom.
At last Sören was off the phone, and he said, "I need a nap."
Sören napped while Dooku read; Dooku woke Sören up when it was around time for them to think about dinner plans. "I don't want anything too fancy," Sören said. "I'm pretty beat."
They opted to eat in the dining room of the hotel. The hotel restaurant was still well-reviewed, and pricey, but it didn't involve traveling far, and they could get a table in relative privacy. Dooku enjoyed fish, and Sören had lamb. They shared a rich cheesecake together, and Dooku tipped well on their way out.
As they headed back to their room, Sören's phone rang. Sören answered it without looking at who was calling. "Frankie, what's - oh. Hvað segirðu?"
Dooku recognized Dagnýr's voice on the other end. Dagnýr sounded upset, and Sören stopped walking; soon Sören looked upset as well.
"Ég skil," Sören said.
"Ég geri ráð fyrir að þú munt ekki koma aftur á sjúkrahúsið," Dooku heard Dagnýr say.
"Ekki ef þú borgaðir mér," Sören said, shaking his head. "Skít fyrir Ari þó. Við verðum að vera þarna fyrir hann eftir að það gerist."
"Við munum," Dagnýr replied. "Sennilega ekki safnið."
Sören managed a small chuckle and said, "Við munum hugsa um eitthvað."
"Góða nótt, Sören."
"Góða nótt. Elska þig."
"Elska þig líka."
Sören pressed "end" and sighed.
Dooku gave Sören a quizzical look, and Sören took his hand and kept walking. Once they got in their room, Sören said, "Katrín entered a coma. It was also her wish to not be kept on life support when that happened..."
"...so it looks like any time now," Dooku said.
"Yes," Sören said.
"Good riddance," Dooku said under his breath.
Sören heard him, smirked, and then frowned. "Ari... went back to the hospital and is at her bedside. He's pretty pissed off at her -"
"- and rightly so -"
"- but that's still his mother and... I get it." Sören nodded. "I know why he has to be there. The chances are good that she'll pass tomorrow and once that happens, we want to take Ari out... few drinks, probably."
"How long after..." Dooku cleared his throat awkwardly. "Does the funeral take place, here?"
"Usually five days to two weeks after, but in this case it'll be sooner, five days," Sören said.
"We don't have to go to the funeral if you don't want -"
"I wouldn't be going for her," Sören said. "I'd be going for Ari."
Sören showered first, and came out in a towel - though he looked delicious, he also looked exhausted, and Dooku didn't want to impose, especially for what would be their first time. Dooku did finally notice, as Sören turned his back to him, that Sören's back was tattooed - the fire on one arm and water on the other led to a pair of phoenixes on his back, one made of fire, the other made of water.
"Did you design that?" Dooku asked.
"Design what," Sören said, his voice sounding flat and far away.
"The... work on your back."
"I did. I didn't tattoo myself, obviously, but I drew it, showed the artist what I wanted, and he copied the design."
"It's... nice." Dooku never thought he'd be saying that about tattoos, but on Sören, it was nice.
It was Dooku's turn to shower - and he felt like he needed it, having been in the same space as Katrín that day. He too came out in a towel, but Sören was already asleep. Dooku quietly changed into his pajamas, climbed next to Sören, and spooned him, his arms wrapped around Sören, holding him safe.
It took a long while for Dooku to fall asleep. His heart ached for Sören, and Sören's siblings and cousin - he admired the young man who could make such beautiful art after having lived through such spectacular ugliness. Sören was physically pleasing to look at, but even more than that, Dooku admired Sören's heart - the way he tried to keep his family together, the way he soothed Frankie who got anxious being alone at night, even when he was exhausted and feeling close to the breaking point emotionally. That Sören thought this hotel room was "posh" when it wasn't even the classiest hotel room Dooku had been in - Sören had known privation, and Dooku wanted to spoil him. He wanted to make this trip count, somehow, to give back a little life to the man who'd breathed life into him.
Dooku's memories took him to when he was a young boy, attending the Romanian Orthodox Church, entranced by the rituals and the chanting and the mystery of it all, praying fervently, trying to understand the Force as a gift from God rather than something of the devil. And then, later, as a young man, in that same church, the mystery gone as he had seen the injustice of the world, and thought if there was a God who let these things happen, he was cruel and it was the moral obligation of humanity to forget him.
Master Yodha had once said that humanity had been visited by aliens many times over, that they as powerful, technologically advanced, Force-sensitive beings had decided to prey upon humans, presenting themselves as gods, and fed off the energy of the prayers and offerings given to them. For years Dooku's internal jury had been out on how much of that was true - he simply liked to think that there was no higher power, and the Force existed independently of such things, something that could eventually be explained by science when humanity had the right technology to figure it out. But in the eyes of Katrín Tollasdóttir, he saw something that made him wonder if Master Yodha had been right about that after all, and if Earth was in the grip of something terrible.
Dooku didn't want to think about that for long. He shuddered.
Sören felt it, and made a noise.
"It's all right," Dooku assured him.
Sören made another noise. "Nico," he mumbled. "You feel nice."
"You feel good too," Dooku said, his arms tightening around Sören. He buried his nose in Sören's curls, nuzzled them, planted a kiss atop Sören's head.
"Ég elska þig, elskan mín."
Dooku didn't speak Icelandic, but nonetheless, he knew exactly what Sören had just said. I love you. He swallowed hard, tears burning his eyes as his heart soared. He wanted to say it back, in response, but words failed him, and he heard himself saying only, "I know."
Sören gave a little chuckle, patted Dooku's hand, and then fell back asleep. A few minutes later, Dooku's face rested in the crook of Sören's shoulder, and breathing in his scent, feeling Sören's pulse, he fell asleep also.
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