The next day, they have Muir Woods and Muir Beach on the itinerary.
As much as Mark does not enjoy the polluted energy of southern California, the northern part of the state feels less oppressive, and the redwoods are one of the last wild places in the lower 48. The Song is stronger here, in the powerful presence of nature.
It also feels right to be here, walking under the ancient, enormous trees, with the reincarnation of his long-lost kin. The redwood forest both does and doesn't remind Maglor of Formenos, and the difference and similarity lend to that feeling that they are, together, writing the next chapter of their lives.
Every now and again they pause to take in the view of their surroundings - the redwood trees going up and up and up hundreds of feet, the occasional Douglas firs, the ferns, sorrel and bay laurel, the moss and rocks, the thriving life feeding on the decomposing dead trees on the forest floor here and there, the way the light plays through the trees and mist. After they've been on the trail for close to an hour, they're lucky enough to spot white-tailed deer running past, a moment of pure magic.
Mark can't help but also glance at Sören and Nicholas, from time to time, holding hands, smiling at each other, every so often leaning on each other and stealing a little kiss. It's obvious to Mark that Sören is already in love with Nicholas, and he can tell that Nicholas is smitten with Sören as well - Nicholas's eyes are soft and crinkle at the corners, his cheeks flush pink, and while he's still a bit reserved and formal he's also quite jovial today. After the deer sighting, Nicholas says, "If this were fall, you could see the monarch butterflies migrating through these parts, there's thousands of them."
"That sounds amazing," Sören says. "We might have to visit here again some fall, right, guys? Maybe even this fall."
Anthony smirks, seeming to be amused rather than jealous. "Well, your birthday's near Thanksgiving, right? Maybe we could all have Thanksgiving together." Then Anthony claps his hand over his mouth. "Where are my manners, I don't want to just invite myself -"
"Oh, you're invited." Nicholas beams. "It would be a delight to have you all again." He gives Anthony a pointed look. "We will have quite the feast."
Mark is sure Anthony isn't jealous for the same reason he isn't - this is Fingolfin, though Nicholas doesn't seem to be aware of that yet, and Nicholas is obviously quite taken with them as well, though much moreso with Sören. And sharing Sören with Nicholas is enjoyable - Mark thinks Sören and Nicholas are delicious together.
Even now, the way Sören and Nicholas are handsy with each other looks like a more subtle form of foreplay. Sören and Nicholas come across like insatiable newlyweds...
...or a long-separated couple having makeup sex. Mark swallows hard, feeling that tight ache in his chest as he thinks of Fëanor and Fingolfin's passion turned to strife, Fëanor's love become hate become madness. Maglor remembers Fëanor dying in his arms, crying out his brothers' names... crying out to Fingolfin that he was sorry. Maglor remembers Fingolfin's grief, leading him to face down Morgoth in single combat, knowing he might die and saying he was already dead inside. It hurts in a good way to see Fëanor and Fingolfin rediscovering each other, falling in love all over again... this time with Fingolfin as the elder, looking out for Fëanor who needs a father figure now more than ever.
It hurts in a good way even more to have his family back again, even just for a little while. He's spent the last few holidays with Anthony and Sören, of course, and quite a few with Maedhros since his release from Mandos in the 1960s, but many more than that alone, for decades, for centuries, from the days since there were officially recognized holidays anywhere - an acute reminder that he was alone among strangers, not really human and yet living too long among them to want to return where he came from, even without the other complications of return. But now, they're making Thanksgiving plans with Fingolfin.
Sören meets his eyes and blinks. "Mark, are you OK?"
"Yeah." Mark's voice is raspier than he intends. "I'm. I'm OK."
Anthony knows what's up without being told. He squeezes Mark's right hand and his thumb lovingly traces the burn scar. "Mark's a little choked up. Most of his family is dead, apart from his brother. Thanksgiving is usually a sad occasion for him, and I think he's touched by your invite."
Mark nods, thanking Anthony via ósanwe for saying what he couldn't put into words just then. "It's nice to feel like I have a family again," Mark says with a tight smile.
Sören's eyes widen, then without a word he lets go of Nicholas's hand, marches forward to grab Mark by the left hand and pull him a few steps, then Sören flings his arms around Mark, hugs him tight, and gives him a deep, passionate kiss.
Caught up in emotion - once again feeling like he's being immolated by the intensity of Sören's love and passion - Mark's own hunger rises, never too much after being touch-starved for so long. They kiss feverishly, stumbling off the trail a little ways into the forest... not far enough to get lost, just enough to not be immediately observed by any hikers.
They undress each other quickly, not thinking, just feeling. Giving into primal, frenzied lust here in this wild place, at one with nature. Soon Nicholas and Anthony join in, also stripping down, clothes and backpacks strewn on the ground. When they're all naked they take turns kissing, running their hands over each other, until Mark gives into his need and pushes Sören up against a tree, drops to his knees and begins lapping at Sören, who's already drenched. Sören clutches Mark's head and slowly rolls his hips, gently fucking Mark's mouth, panting "yes, yes..."
Mark moans into Sören's cunt, licking harder, faster, electrified by Sören's moans. Out of the corner of his eye he watches Anthony shove Nicholas next to Sören, and Anthony kneels before Nicholas - but gives Nicholas that smirk to let him know he's still the one in charge. Then Anthony also gets to work, sucking at Nicholas's hard t-dick while Sören and Nicholas turn their heads and kiss.
As Sören and Nicholas make out, Mark sucks Sören's cock and Anthony sucks Nicholas, and a few minutes into it Anthony reaches over between Mark's legs, playing with him. Mark groans at Anthony's skilled fingers knowing just how to pleasure his cock, and Mark can't resist playing with Anthony too. Both of them are dripping, and Sören is making a creamy mess on his face.
Mark and Anthony kiss, sharing Sören and Nicholas's juices between them, then Mark's tongue is inside Sören, wanting to taste him more fully, while Anthony sucks Nicholas harder, tugging on it with his lips, making Nicholas groan. Sören's broken cries echo through the trees, pulling Mark's hair as he rocks his hips. Mark growls, tongue fucking Sören's inner walls like he's starving for it. He's addicted to Sören's flavor and the look of ecstasy on Sören's face as he shudders against the tree, before Nicholas claims another kiss, open-mouthed, tongues slowly licking and rubbing, making Mark groan appreciatively at the sensuality.
Mark and Anthony kiss again, doing the same before kissing more deeply, and now Anthony moans into the kiss as he tastes Sören's musk. "Let's trade," Anthony rasps.
Mark gets in front of Nicholas, and Anthony before Sören. Sören smiles at him, love in his eyes, and takes a moment to touch Anthony's face - Anthony leans into his touch, smiling back, and whispers "Love you, sweetheart," before he dives in, making Sören howl as he licks and sucks. Mark takes slow, playful licks at Nicholas's cock before sucking it, suctioning hard but letting it glide back and forth in his mouth ever so slowly, teasing. Nicholas's deep groans drive Mark wild, fucking himself on Anthony's fingers.
"God, I love you," Anthony husks, just before mashing his face into Sören and slurping. Sören cries out again and from the way he trembles with a shaky gasp, Mark knows Sören is getting close. Mark is almost there himself, rocking on Anthony's hand, almost coming when he and Anthony kiss again, making a mess with Sören and Nicholas's cream.
Anthony pulls back. "I don't know about anybody else, but I'm in the mood to fuck."
Sören catches his breath and grins. "Hi In The Mood To Fuck, I'm -"
Nicholas facepalms and groans loudly, and Anthony gets up and pulls Sören into a hard, fierce kiss - presumably to shut him up - and lands a firm smack on Sören's ass. Sören moans and giggles, and turns around, shaking his ass. "You can do better than that," Sören purrs.
Anthony swats him again, harder, and Sören cries out.
Mark is so desperate to come he doesn't care if it's in someone's mouth or on someone's cunt. He lays back in the grass and looks up at the stretching trees, the bits of sky peeking between. He can almost feel the Earth thrum underneath him, the Song singing through his veins. He parts his thighs, giving the three men a good look at how hard and wet he is.
Sören drops down to his knees this time, and then crawls over Mark. Mark doesn't think Sören has topped since they've become a throuple, and as much as he enjoys Sören being submissive to both of them, his cunt throbs with anticipation, loving the wilder side of him. They both cry out as their cunts mash together, and they kiss and Sören begins to rock his hips, cock fucking cock. Mark grabs Sören's hips, bucking, matching his rhythm, breathing each other's ragged breath.
Nicholas swears in French and drops behind Sören with a growl. Sören's eyes roll back and he cries out - Mark feels him flutter just slightly, and knows Nicholas is inside him. Mark's arms wrap around Sören's back as Nicholas holds onto Sören's hips, thrusting. Nicholas groans, a look of bliss on his face.
Anthony watches them for a moment, then he gets behind Nicholas, shoves him so his chest is against Sören's back, and drops his mental shield just enough for Mark to feel the wet velvet heat of Nicholas's cunt welcoming Anthony's hard, aching cock. Mark almost climaxes from that. He moans at the sight of Nicholas kissing and licking Sören's neck, whispering to him in French as he keeps thrusting, while Anthony fucks him. Sören is panting, moaning, rutting against Mark frantically, and Mark loses himself in that moment of pure lusciousness, cock teasing cock just right, the sweet rubbing almost as good as coming, never wanting to stop...
...But he can't hold out forever, and the instant he feels Sören contracting and gushing it sends him over the edge into his own orgasm, hearing himself yell as the pleasure surges through him, Sören whimpering and almost sobbing with release. Nicholas makes a guttural noise and gasps for breath and Mark knows that he's coming too, and then a few thrusts later Anthony lets go, crying out as he shudders.
They pile together in the grass, a lazy tangle of limbs - Mark is aware of holding one of Nicholas's hands and one of Sören's hands - and Mark watches the forest spin as he feels that rise and fall of relief, euphoria, his orgasm pulsing like the heart of the Earth. For the briefest moment he can almost feel the grass grow, the trees breathe.
Anthony gently rouses him awhile later; Sören and Nicholas are getting dressed. Mark and Anthony put their clothes back on but slowly, both of them watching Sören and Nicholas hugging each other, smiling, rubbing noses. Mark feels that ache in his chest again, so glad to see them happy together, yet wishing there was some way to tell them their instant connection had roots even more ancient than the trees of this forest.
Suddenly Anthony nudges him and speaks directly into his mind. Your glamour is dropping.
Mark realizes he can feel the full length of his hair - he looks down at his hands and notices the subtle glowing aura around his body. He takes a deep breath and tries to contain it as quickly as he can. Do you think they saw anything?
No. Anthony smirks. I think they wouldn't even notice if lightning struck one of the trees closest to them, right about now.
Mark tries not to laugh at that. He takes Anthony's hand once he's sure his glamour has returned. At some point I am going to have to reveal myself to Sören. He looks at Nicholas, cheeks pink, dark eyes twinkling as he and Sören are talking to each other softly. And probably Nicholas, too.
Yeah. Anthony exhales. At some point. I don't think now is the time, considering we literally just met the guy a few days ago.
No. Definitely not now. Mark thinks of Thanksgiving, which is still months away, yet that time is like a drop in the bucket to one of the Eldar, even one who has been wandering among mortals for ages. Soon.
Muir Beach is one of the more beautiful beaches Mark has seen on the continent, a quiet cove with rocks and grasses, and a view of tree-lined hills in the distance. Mark has brought his harp, and he plays a combination of cover songs from the 80s and 90s as well as his own original compositions - keeping the mood light and happy, reflecting the joy he feels at this little family reunion in such a scenic location.
Eventually Sören and Nicholas go for a walk by themselves along the shore, and Mark watches them strolling hand-in-hand, while Anthony leans on him, basking in the warmth of the sun like a cat. Mark takes a break to skritch Anthony, making him laugh, and then Mark's keen Elven eyes get a glimpse of Nicholas mouthing the words I love you to Sören.
Mark's breath hitches and a frisson goes through him. If this were anyone else, Mark would say it was too soon, but...
Mark looks out at the tide rolling in, making himself focus on his surroundings before he starts to cry, not wanting to disrupt their moment. He's happy for them, of course - but it makes him ache even more, every nerve in his body screaming with the urge to tell them. And he knows just waltzing up to them and saying, "Excuse me, but you were incestuous brothers in a past life who feuded and this is your second chance to be together" isn't going to go over so well. Dropping his glamour tonight back at Nicholas's cottage is tempting, but the timing doesn't seem right - he feels like he should give the feelings a chance to breathe and grow before dragging Nicholas into the maelstrom of his identity and all the complications.
He also knows that history has the potential to repeat itself, and it would be just like the Valar to continue punishing them by letting them be happy together for a little while then tearing it asunder. Especially if it involves either Sören or Nicholas - or both - reacting badly to him not being human, or who and what they were to each other, or somehow not believing him. The icy hand of fear grips his heart, a chill going through him despite the warmth of the summer sun. He truly wants to believe that the worst is over and what they have, they will hold, but his fear is as strong as his hope, if not stronger.
Give me a sign, Macalaurë Fëanorion calls out in his soul to the Song, watching the waves. Before I say or do anything regarding the truth, I need a sign that the Doom is over. I need proof that it is safe now.
He knows he can't just demand things of the universe, but if there is any way to spare another flood of unnumbered tears... so be it.