Dooku was awakened by "Immigrant Song" by Led Zeppelin - Sören's ringtone for his brother Dagnýr. Dooku squinted through bleary eyes to watch Sören fumble around on the bedtable for the phone, finally using the Force to bring it over and answer it.
Dooku was already starting to fade again, put into a trance-like state by the Icelandic words, and was brought back to semi-consciousness by the feel of Sören leaning into him, the feel of Sören exhaling, deeply.
Dooku opened his eyes, and Sören looked up at him, his own eyes too bright.
"She's gone," Sören said, simply.
It was seven-thirty in the morning - past both of their usual wake-up times, but they'd allowed themselves to sleep in.
"When did it happen?" Dooku asked. "Do you know?"
Sören nodded. "About forty-five minutes ago. Dagnýr just got done talking to Ari." Sören smirked. "At least he had the courtesy to call me on his cell this time and not Matt's, that tripped me up yesterday."
Dooku nodded. He sat up, groggily. But Sören just lay there, looking a bit dazed, so after a moment Dooku propped Sören up, and then pulled Sören close, into his chest.
"How do you feel?" Dooku asked.
Sören gave a nervous laugh that was almost a sob. "Too many things," Sören said.
Dooku's arms tightened around Sören, and after a few minutes of petting and rocking him, Sören finally let go and cried.
Dooku held Sören for almost a half-hour, letting him cry it out. At last the tears subsided - for now - and Sören pulled away, slowly, but reached out to touch Dooku's face.
"Thank you," Sören said.
Dooku took Sören's hand and pressed it to his lips. "I am here for you."
Sören nodded. "I know." He looked at the clock and then he groaned. "So... Ari wants some alone time for the next few hours, which I can't blame him for, but Dagnýr and Margrét are insisting that later, he come to dinner with us, and then, we're all going to go drinking at Margrét's bar. You're invited."
"Oh dear."
Sören chuckled. "It can't be worse than the penis museum."
"Er."
"But anyway..." Sören climbed out of bed, yawned and stretched. "I'm not feeling the greatest myself, but staying here moping all day isn't going to do me any good, so how about I take you on a little tour?"
Dooku nodded. "I'd like that."
"Good."
They had breakfast together, and then their first stop was Hallgrímskirkja church, towering over the city at 74.5m tall. There was a viewing platform with the best view of Reykjavik that one could get in the entire city, open for a small fee because no services were being conducted then. Sören and Dooku went into the tower and all the way to the top, and spent awhile admiring the view.
At last Dooku said, "It's ironic that you've taken me to a church, considering what happened yesterday."
Sören nodded. "It is. But this is a famous spot in Reykjavik. And it's just a building. A very beautiful building."
"That it is. Just the glass art is outstanding."
"I'll show you the organ on our way out," Sören said.
Dooku raised his eyebrows. After yesterday, with so many penis jokes... "...organ?"
"Actual organ, you old pervert," Sören said, elbowing Dooku in the ribs with a chuckle.
One of the church staff was nearby and gave them a somewhat scandalized look, and this made Sören laugh out loud. It was good to hear him laugh, and that laughter was infectious, making Dooku laugh as well.
On the way out they did in fact see the organ, which was the largest concert organ in Iceland. Sören took another walk to look at the glass art, taking pictures, and they also lingered at the entrance door so Sören could admire it from an artist's perspective, and take some pictures of that, as well.
And then Sören said, "Can we sit outside for awhile? A few meters away from the church? I'd like to do a rough sketch."
It was a cold November day, but Dooku obliged, and watched as Sören sketched the church - for a rough sketch it was still well-detailed. Dooku wondered if Sören was sketching it for the sake of sketching - to take his mind off things - or if he had a project going, or if perhaps sketching for its own sake would lead to a new project.
At last Sören said, "It's cold, let's get a move on."
They decided to explore the city center by foot, wandering through shopping streets and residential neighborhoods. The houses were colorful; Sören took pictures. "This reminds me of where I grew up in Akureyri," Sören said.
"Ah?"
Sören nodded. He looked sad, then, and Dooku stopped, moved in front of Sören, and put his hand on Sören's shoulders. Then, on impulse, Dooku put his arms around Sören. Sören returned the hug, and they held each other tight for a minute. When Sören pulled back, they gave each other a long, meaningful look, and Dooku found himself moving his face forward. Sören also moved in, and they kissed for the first time in days. It occurred to Dooku, a moment into the kiss, that they were kissing in public where anyone could see them, and yes it was Reykjavik and people didn't care about such things, but it was still so unlike him anyway. And he decided he didn't care, deepening the kiss, making Sören moan, groaning in response.
They pulled apart, breathless, and Sören stroked Dooku's face and whiskers, then leaned in to kiss the tip of his nose.
"Thank you," Sören said.
Dooku stroked Sören's face in return. "Last night," Dooku said.
"What about it?"
"You were already sort of asleep when I was done showering..."
"Oh, já, I'm sorry about that, I was exhausted -"
"No need to apologize." Dooku's gloved finger touched Sören's lips. Dooku went on, "You said something to me in Icelandic."
Sören smiled. "I vaguely remember that."
Dooku nodded.
"Well..." Sören said, "now to say it in English." He leaned in and whispered, "I love you," and then kissed Dooku again.
The play of their lips and tongues made Dooku's cock stir, and he made himself pull away before he got the urge to take Sören right there in the snow. Feeling flushed and fluttery, his head spinning, Dooku heard himself repeat what he heard Sören say last night. "Ég elska þig, elskan mín."
Sören's laughter rang out through the street. "Nico, I love you... but your accent is atrocious."
Dooku also laughed. "I know."
Sören took Dooku's hands in his, and patted them. "You get points for trying."
"What kind of points?"
"...Points." Sören winked, and then pulled Dooku along.
They walked to the city pond, Reykjavíkurtjörn, which was right across from City Hall. Even though it was winter and a weekday afternoon, there were still a decent number of people there, some of whom were ice skating on the frozen pond. Sören took pictures again, and then they sat as Sören did a little sketching, and then Sören stopped, watching some small children play with their parents. He looked sad, on the verge of tears. Dooku reached out to take Sören's hand, and squeezed.
"It's all right, love," Dooku said.
Sören sighed, looked down, closed his eyes, shed a few tears, and then, at last, he looked up and said, "I have an idea."
"Yes?"
"I want to build a snowman."
"Oh."
Sören gave Dooku a quizzical look, raising his eyebrows. "You've... never... built a snowman, have you."
"No, I have not."
"Well, there's a first time for everything. Come on."
Somehow, Dooku wound up on his knees next to Sören, in the snow, rolling snowballs, packing snow together. There wasn't enough snow on the ground yet to make a large snowman, and Sören being artistic decided to make it aesthetic anyway - Dooku was amused by Sören making a snow puffin instead of a snowman, and some children and their parents gathered around, delighted. Soon Dooku found himself copying what Sören was doing, making a mate for the snow puffin. People snapped photos, and Sören took pictures of his own, including a few selfies - a couple of which also had Dooku in them, smiling awkwardly.
Sören showed Dooku.
"Those are terrible," Dooku said, blushing.
"We look like dorks." Sören grinned. "Probably because we are."
"I beg your pardon." And then Dooku surprised himself with what came out next - playing in the snow seemed to put him in a younger frame of mind. "Speak for yourself, my dear."
"Oh, is that how it is."
"Yes." Dooku got up, brushing off the snow.
The minute his back was turned, a snowball hit him in the small of his back - Sören's response. Dooku whirled around, and Sören gave a guilty grin before throwing a snowball at Dooku's chest.
"You are a brat," Dooku said.
"News at eleven."
Dooku internally cursed that he couldn't make a public display of the Force, and dropped back down to his knees to scoop up snow, pack it together, and throw a snowball at Sören, who ducked. Sören sat up again to laugh, and the moment he did, he got a mouthful of snowball.
"Oh no." Dooku's concern was genuine. "Are you all right?"
Sören spat, and wiped snow off his face. He was laughing so hard he was shaking, and he threw another snowball at Dooku, who ducked. "I would have preferred a flavored snowcone."
Dooku took Sören's hand and pulled him up, and Dooku kissed him again. Then they walked together - Sören was marching him in the direction of a pylsa stand.
There were a couple of kids in front of them, freshly out of school for the day. They waited their turn as the boys ordered "ein með öllu", but when it came time to pay, they were a krónur short, and the owner of the hot dog cart shook his head.
Dooku reached for his pocket, but before he could intercede, Sören stepped forward and said, "Einn fyrir mig líka, og þetta ætti að gæta þessara stráka líka." He used his own krónur, and when he got change, he gave bills to each of the boys, who thanked him profusely. Sören affectionately tousled their hair and watched them run off to eat their pylsur. Dooku's heart was warmed by the gesture, and it made him love Sören even more.
Sören's own pylsa was ready a couple of minutes later. Before Sören took a bite, he said to Dooku, "You sure you don't want one?"
"Yes, I'm sure."
Sören shook his head. "You don't know what you're missing."
It didn't take long for Sören to finish the hot dog, wipe his beard, and then they were off, heading back the way they came, to where the jeep was parked. Though the exertion of walking around Reykjavik kept them warm enough, Dooku was still grateful for the heating in the jeep, and grateful further for Sören's suggestion that they get coffee before they head back to the hotel and get ready for their dinner with Sören's family.
_
The sun set early and it was already dark when they met Margrét, Dagnýr, Matt, and Ari at the restaurant where Margrét had made reservations. The restaurant was in Grandi, Reykjavik's "fish packing district", where old fishing factories and boat repair shops had been turned into more trendy establishments. Dooku went with fish - the seafood in Iceland lived up to its reputation - though Margrét encouraged Dooku to have something heavier "because we'll be doing a lot of drinking."
"Someone has to stay sober to be designated driver," Dooku said.
"Same," Matt said, knocking back coffee.
"Foreigners," Dagnýr snarked. "You don't know the real Iceland until you wake up with a hangover so splitting you think it ripped a hole in the space-time continuum."
Sören almost choked on his soda. "You are such a nerd."
"That's why they pay me the big bucks back in Toronto." Dagnýr sighed. "Speaking of which... day after the funeral, we're going back. I have classes to teach, students to annoy."
Ari patted Dagnýr's shoulder. "I appreciate that you're even staying this long."
Dagnýr nodded. "We don't see each other often enough, and I'd like to change that."
"Same here," Sören said. "I've missed all of you a lot."
"What do you all think about a return trip next month for Christmas?" Margrét asked.
"I think that two visits to Iceland within less than two months of each other wouldn't really be doable," Dagnýr said, "and also, I think I'd get so nostalgic that I wouldn't be able to leave."
"Maybe you all could come to Toronto?" Matt asked.
Dooku considered that, and then thought of seeing Qui and Obi for the holidays, the first time he'd see Qui for Christmas in years - disappointing them by being all the way in Canada. He frowned, and then he said, "Why don't you all come to London next month and have Christmas with us?"
"Really?" Margrét's face lit up. "You don't mind?"
"No," Dooku said.
The look of joy on Sören's face made Dooku's heart race and stomach flutter, made him warm and glowy. Sören squeezed his knee under the table, and then he threw his arms around Dooku and gave him a big sloppy kiss on the cheek.
"Awww, Nico," Sören said. "That makes me so happy."
"If you don't mind meeting a few friends of the family," Dooku said.
"You'll be inviting Leja, yes?" Margrét asked.
Dooku nodded.
"Yes, good," Margrét said.
"Leja... my other adopted child, Qui and his partner Oberon..."
"Frankie," Sören said.
"All right, Frankie can come too," Dooku said.
"You and Frankie would hit it off," Sören said to Margrét.
"What's this boy like?" Margrét asked.
"Frankie's a she," Sören said. "I've been rooming with her since not long after I moved to the UK. We met at a punk show, and she beat up that shitty ex I told you about."
"Oh, yes, I probably would get on with her," Margrét said.
"I'd like that," Dagnýr said, and Matt nodded. "I haven't been to London in ages. The last time I went there, actually, was to visit Stephen Hawking... I was the doctoral student of one of his doctoral students, who wanted me to meet him."
"Nerd," Sören teased.
Dagnýr stuck his tongue out at Sören, before drinking more water.
Then Margrét turned to Ari. "So, you gonna come with me?"
Ari nodded. "Just have to... get through the next while first."
"Awwww." Margrét leaned in and hugged Ari, who accepted the hug. "Well, tonight we're going to help you get your mind off things."
"I don't think that's completely possible," Ari said, "but it feels better than being alone, right now."
"How... was it... in the end?" Sören asked.
"She was completely comatose," Ari said. "No awareness of what was going on, no pain, as far as I could tell. Just... gave out." Ari pinched the bridge of his nose and winced as if he were in pain. "I thought about not going back, just letting her die there, alone, but... I couldn't. Even after all she put us through, I didn't feel right about doing that to my own mother. But I didn't feel entirely right staying there with her, either."
Sören nodded.
Ari closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and said, "In the end, I realized why I did it. I needed to see that she was dead, that she was truly gone. That... she wouldn't be opening her eyes again, opening her mouth, that this was it, the end." A shuddery sigh. "That she no longer can do anything to me, or the rest of us."
Margrét and Dagnýr hugged Ari, and then Matt got up, and Sören did too, and the five of them group-hugged, while Dooku watched, feeling awkward about joining in.
Ari cried, and then started apologizing, and Dagnýr made soothing noises and Sören finally said, "That was why I came out here. Well, that... and to be here for you. Because I feel the same way. I'd hoped that maybe she'd changed, and we could make peace. But I also knew, from all those years with her and her shit, that she probably hadn't changed. And in that case, I needed to see her... dying. Weak. Powerless."
Ari's crying turned into sobbing, and Sören rocked his cousin, crying too. They were making a scene at the restaurant, and it wasn't long before they were asked to pay their check and leave. In the frigid November night air, Ari and Sören attempted to pull themselves together, shakily.
They weren't far from the bar Margrét owned, and their vehicles were safe, so they walked there. Dooku didn't much care for the night temperature, but the cold seemed to snap Sören out of it, for now, which was a weight off his own shoulders - his heart ached for his beloved.
Dooku felt wildly out of place in the bar - dressed in his usual cape, dressy trousers and tunic, under his winter coat - and being at least two or three times older than everyone else there, not to mention that he was keeping it light to be safe to drive home.
Sören had more than one shot of Brennivín - he got progressively more animated with each shot - and finally, after they'd been there a couple hours and The Smiths started playing, Sören climbed off his stool, staggered over and said, "Dance with me."
"What." Dooku looked from side to side. "I... don't dance."
"You do now." Sören pulled Dooku off his stool, dragged him into the crowd, and began dancing awkwardly.
Dooku felt completely ridiculous - he stood and watched Sören, until Sören put his hands on Dooku's hips and began walking him back and forth, and soon his hands were on Sören's hips and their hips were swaying together in time.
The Smiths was, strangely, followed up by Shakira - Sören pointed out a DJ and people were making requests. The song had to be "Hips Don't Lie", of course, and Sören worked his hips even more, until he and Dooku were grinding on each other in the middle of the dance floor, and Dooku felt embarrassed and electrified all at once.
At the end of the song, Sören kissed him - he tasted like licorice from the Brennivín. Dooku kissed Sören back, and then they heard one of the bar patrons snark, "Fá herbergi þú krakkar."
"Afsakið mig? Ætli ég færi á skoðun þinni?" Sören snapped.
"Haltu kjafti typpatottari!" the man snapped back.
Sören rolled his eyes, and then "accidentally" bumped into him when the next song came on. "Sleiktu píkuna á mömmu þinni," Sören muttered.
The man's response was to sucker punch Sören, dropping him to his knees. Sören started to have an asthma attack. Dooku had to exercise every ounce of restraint he had to not Force choke the man, and instead, kicked the man in the shin, then grabbed him by the throat and shoved him into several other people, knocking them all over.
Another man came at Dooku then, and Dooku swung his fist. The original attacker came back over to Sören, intending to punch him again, and Sören got up and landed a mean right hook, making the man's nose bleed. When another attacker rushed at them, Sören dropped an elbow and then kicked the man on the way down, and Dooku landed a hit in the stomach before grabbing the man who hit him and throwing him in the direction of an empty table, knocking over chairs.
Margrét, Ari, Dagnýr and Matt had hurried over now, and Margrét began shoving Sören and Dooku towards the back entrance.
Once they were out in back of the bar, Sören coughed again, took a puff from his inhaler, and then let out a howl like a wolf.
"Go back to the hotel," Margrét said. "I'll deal with the mess in there."
"I'm sorry," Sören said, but the grin on his face said he wasn't, really.
Margrét shook her head, but she couldn't restrain a smile of her own. "Goddammit, Sören. Did you have to get so drunk?"
"Uhhh... let me get back to you on that."
Dagnýr was staggering, and Matt said, "Yeah, I think we're gonna go too, because Dagnýr just falls asleep after he's had a few."
"Huh?" Dagnýr raised an eyebrow, but he only had one eye open.
"Yup." Matt put an arm around Dagnýr. "You're drunk, dude."
"So much for helping Ari," Sören said.
"You helped plenty," Ari said, laughing. "That was entertaining."
Sören hugged Ari, and then he said, "You want to do the honors of giving the Iceland tour tomorrow?"
Ari nodded. "All right. One o'clock work for you?"
Sören started walking backwards and attempted to give the thumbs up, saw he had put up his index finger instead, and when he put up his thumb, he walked into Dooku, who quickly steadied him.
In the jeep on the way back to the hotel, Sören inexplicably began singing Smiths songs, at the top of his lungs, with his window down "so I don't barf."
"I AM THE SON, AND THE HEIR," Sören belted out the window, "OF A SHYNESS THAT IS CRIMINALLY VULGAR... I AM THE SON AND HEIR... OF NOTHING IN PARTICULAR..."
"Sören..."
Sören put his gloved fingertip to Dooku's lips and wailed, "SHUT YOUR MOUTH, HOW CAN YOU SAY, I GO ABOUT THINGS THE WRONG WAY... I AM HUMAN AND I NEED TO BE LO-O-O-VED..."
"Sören."
"JUST LIKE ANYBODY ELSE DOES..."
By the time they pulled in the hotel, Sören had gone through four Smiths songs, and then, for whatever reason, switched to Evanescence. "How can you see into my eyes like open doors? Leading you down, into my core... Something something numb, uh, something, soul... something something cold..."
"Sören, we're here. Are you going to be able to walk? Shall I carry you."
"Uhhh... I think... I just gotta..." Before getting out of the jeep, Sören paused for dramatic emphasis and started singing-yelling, "WAKE ME UP, WAKE ME UP INSIDE, I CAN'T WAKE UP..." And then as he attempted to climb out of the jeep, he fell into a snowbank.
Dooku did in fact carry Sören into the hotel, who was singing "SAAAAAAVE ME, SAVE ME FROM THE NOTHING I'VE BECOME" on their way past the reception desk.
Once they were in their hotel room, Dooku placed Sören down on the bed, took off his winter coat, and Sören stopped singing.
"Would you like some hot chocolate?" Dooku said. "I am going to have some, because I feel as if my bones are frozen solid."
"All right."
Dooku ordered up room service, and soon a pot of hot chocolate and two cups arrived, with a basket of pastries.
Sören's motor skills were impaired enough by the drunkenness that he made a mess all over himself, and when Dooku went to help Sören clean up his shirt, he said, "We ought to just get in our pajamas for bed."
"I think I need help," Sören said. "I forgot how to move my toes."
Dooku dropped to his knees in front of Sören and reached in; Sören was wearing a button-down shirt and nothing underneath, and the sight of Sören's pale, creamy flesh exposed made Dooku hard. His hands trembled as he peeled the shirt off Sören's naked torso, looking at Sören's pierced nipples hard from the cold air. Sören felt Dooku's hard-on pressed against his shin, and their eyes met.
"Fuck me," Sören said, his voice husky.
It took Dooku a minute to weigh the decision carefully, and respond. "No," he said, even though he was aching for it.
"No?"
"No." Dooku shook his head.
"Why not?"
"Because you are very, very, very drunk," Dooku said.
"And?"
"And," Dooku said, "I would feel more like it was consent if you were fully sober. Not to mention the fact that..." He swallowed hard. "Our first time... and especially my. First time." He took Sören's hand, and squeezed it. "I want you to remember it, and I feel as if we went there now... I don't know how much of tonight, you'll remember tomorrow."
Sören sighed. "All right."
They were under the covers shortly afterwards, and just held each other. After awhile Sören started giggling.
"What's so funny?" Dooku asked.
"You've never been in a barfight before, have you?"
Dooku sighed. "No. Not even once."
"In the course of a single day, you've played in the snow for the first time and danced for the first time and have been in your first barfight. If you fucked me today that would have been four firsts."
"Yes, well," Dooku said, patting Sören's shoulder, "again, you're too drunk for that right now."
"I suppose that's just as well," Sören said. "I'm not superstitious or anything, but in Japanese culture, four means death. But three is lucky, so... maybe our first time should be when that would be your third first in one day."
"You are definitely quite drunk."
"Já. And you need to try Brennivín, sometime. But you know what you need to try, even more? A pylsa."
"Ugh. No thank you."
"Nico, you are going to eat a goddamn fucking pylsa before we leave Iceland."
Dooku kissed Sören's forehead. "Right now, you are going to get some sleep."
"Sleep is for the weak," Sören mumbled, right before he passed out.
chapter 13 | return to Northern Lights | return to Other Tolkien Fic | return to index