Seattle to Fairbanks is thirty-eight hours of driving through British Columbia and part of Yukon. It takes them six days, with Anthony driving in the morning and Mark driving in the afternoon to evening, and taking stops to refuel and stretch.
The scenery along the Alaska Highway is some of the most breathtaking Mark has ever seen - it reminds Maglor of where his father built Formenos, so long ago, and is the crown jewel of the trip, driving through the boreal forest past mountains and valleys, rivers and lakes. Sören is in awe, and Mark knows he's not just reacting to the beauty of nature - or the wonder of seeing another far-north region, three thousand miles away from Iceland - but the part of Sören that is Fëanor is remembering, and feeling.
On the fifth day they make camp in Whitehorse, Yukon. It's August now, and the sun is setting close to ten PM, so when Mark stops driving for the evening it's still daylight outside. Sören has been watching the landscape and drawing, and Mark has learned that when Sören is feeling more creative, he's also feeling more randy - just like Fëanor - and in the last hour of Mark's driving shift, he can hear Sören and Anthony having sex, the telltale sounds of moaning, slurping and sucking, and wet cunts slapping together. Mark forces himself to focus on the road, mentally tuning them out, and when they've pulled into the campsite Mark gets up and finds them laying naked on the couch, tangled up together, spent for now, musk lingering in the air.
Mark clears his throat. "I would ask what you wanted to eat, but I see you've already done that."
Anthony chuckles. "I could go for some actual food."
Sören, who was dozing off, perks up a little. "Do we have any more of that pulled chicken? Wraps or burritos sound good."
"Yeah, I'm pretty sure we do." Mark walks over to the kitchenette - they hit a supermarket yesterday to stock up on supplies. Mark microwaves some seasoned rice and gets out shredded cheese and taco sauce and puts chicken burritos together, while Sören and Anthony wash up and put on pajamas.
When they're ready, they sit outside in the light of the midnight sun, enjoying the view of the trees. Sören usually eats quickly and with gusto, and tonight he's eating more slowly, staring off into space with his brow furrowed, despite having just gotten laid. At first Mark tries to chalk it up to Sören still waking up from a nap, but when Anthony gives him a concerned, quizzical look, Mark gently nudges Sören. "Hey! You all right?"
"Ah... jæja, I'm... OK." Sören swallows his food and tries to smile, but it's a tight, tense smile.
"You don't seem OK." Mark tousles Sören's curls.
"You know you can talk to us," Anthony says, booping Sören's nose.
Sören nods, looks off to the side, and takes a deep breath. "So... Mark... when you revealed yourself you mentioned that because you don't age, you have to move around from place to place."
Mark knew this topic would have to come up eventually, but he was hoping to have awhile longer before they had to talk about it - and what it means for their future. He sighs. "Yes. I can glamour an aged appearance but it would expend a tremendous amount of effort to do - just the little bit of glamour I use to make myself look more human in public is a lot - and even if I age myself, eventually people's grandkids and great-grandkids will start asking questions about why I'm still alive, and..."
"I get it."
"But I know why you brought it up. You're wondering how this is going to affect... us."
Sören nods again. "I hate to be a downer. I've been trying to not think about it, but I don't want to lose you -"
"Well, you won't necessarily have to." Mark pats him reassuringly. "The CIA knows about me, and we have an arrangement where I won't expose myself to the world - and shake up human civilization by letting them know there are other non-humans around - and they will provide iron-clad paperwork to help me resettle wherever I go. If at some point I wanted to leave the US, they would be in touch with another country's intelligence agency to get them on board, for example if I went to the UK I would be under the protection of MI6. And in case you're wondering, yes my brother is like me and he has the same arrangement. Anyway - that arrangement allows for me to bring chosen family wherever I go, though for most of my life I've found it's usually safer and less complicated to not tell anyone and just disappear when the time comes, I've had some experiences with angry mobs once the truth is out. This was particularly dangerous during the days of witchcraft trials."
"I bet." Sören makes a concerned noise and frowns.
"But that means you and Anthony can come with me. If you want to. And when we eventually get cats, we can take them with us." Mark also frowns. "I held off on telling you because you need to think about whether this is the life you want, having to uproot every ten to twenty years, new location, new job, using a new name in public and taking precautions to not get caught in a web of lies."
"I would follow you guys to the ends of the earth." Sören touches his face and gives him a loving smile before he scowls again. "What about... Anthony's daughter? What if she doesn't want to follow us around, and if and when she eventually has a partner, kids -"
Mark raises a hand; he's already had this talk with Anthony. "It's not quite like the Witness Protection Program where I have to completely disappear and nobody from my old life can ever be in contact with us. A very few people, not a lot. It does mean that the CIA would be talking to Rhiannon and keeping tabs on her so she can safely remain in touch."
"OK. So Nicholas..." Sören's eyes tear up.
"You wouldn't lose Nicholas." Mark puts an arm around him and gives him a squeeze. In his mind's eye he sees Fingolfin standing against Morgoth, he hears Fëanor crying out for his brothers as he dies; it makes him ache in a good way to know the love and passion between Fëanor and Fingolfin has been reborn, quite literally.
Anthony chimes in. "Sören, you said Nicholas is considering hiring a few people to help out with the farm, right? Maybe, eventually, when it's time for Mark to get on the move, we could start over out there, if he doesn't want to move around with us."
"But your career." Sören's eyes widen. "You put so much hard work into becoming an archaeologist -"
Anthony nods. "It wouldn't be for awhile. We still have time. But it's more important to me to keep us all together."
Sören's jaw drops. Then his eyes meet Mark's. "Nicholas is one of us, isn't he?"
Mark looks down and exhales. "Yeah." He nods. "I didn't want to say anything this soon, because I don't want to be unintentionally manipulative and come off like 'you have to be with him because you were together in a past life' - I love you guys for who you are now, not just who you were."
"I get it, but I've been suspecting it since he had weird dreams and I felt that instant connection with him." Sören puts his hand on his heart. He gets choked up, and Mark pulls him into a hug. Anthony leans in and hugs both of them.
"We found our way back to each other," Mark says, rubbing Sören's back and petting his curls, feeling his own tears come - regret for what was lost, relief for what was found. "And we'll find a way to stay together."
Sören sobs into Mark's shoulder, arms tightening around him. Anthony rubs his nose in Sören's curls and makes tender noises. The three of them rock together in the golden glow of the midnight sun, as if the Earth itself is saying their light shall not fade this time around.
They resume driving in the early morning, and make it to Fairbanks, Alaska in the early evening. They'll be staying in a log cabin for the next few days, in a particularly picturesque area heavily forested with spruce and birch trees. The way Sören's face lights up with joy as they get out of the RV and walk down a trail towards the cabin, breathing in the crisp air, makes Mark melt. He melts even more when Anthony grins too.
"It's beautiful." Sören does a twirl.
They're farther north than they were in Whitehorse - the sun won't be setting until after 10 PM tonight - and the air has that hazy golden quality to it that makes their surroundings seem like an enchanted forest. They pause to take a few pictures, and after they unload their baggage in the cabin and take a look around, Sören bounds right back outside, raising his arms to greet the sky.
"I'm north again." Sören's laughter rings out. "But it's so different here than where I'm from. I feel like an explorer."
Anthony walks out more slowly, with Mark following beside him. They sit on the steps of the porch, watching Sören happy-dance around in front of the cabin. Though Mark knows Sören still has long COVID and struggles with fatigue and shortness of breath, it also seems like being out here in the wild is good for him, injecting life into his veins.
And Mark wonders if the Silmaril might be healing him, somehow.
"This is really amazing." Anthony sighs appreciatively, looking around. "Maybe someday we could live up here."
Mark takes Anthony's hand and squeezes it. "That would be nice."
"I bet Nicholas would like it too." Sören puts his hand on his heart.
"I wish my mum and dad could see this." Anthony closes his eyes for a moment, reverently, then he looks up. "I wish Rhi could see this."
The thought of living here in Alaska - again, so much like where Fëanor built Formenos - appeals to Mark more than living in California wine country, not that they can't necessarily do both. Mark feels that ache as he thinks about building a life, a future with the men he loves, enjoying what time they have together. It almost seems like coming full circle, if they end up here, someplace so similar to the place where he began to lose them so long ago.
Sören walks over and takes them both by the hand. "Come on, let's walk one of the trails, stretch our legs a bit."
Anthony chuckles as he gets up. "We've been awake since early this morning and on the road all day, and you want to go for a hike?"
"Just a little one. We don't have to go that far." Sören pouts. "Please, Daddy..."
Though Anthony teasingly grumbles, he quickly quiets down, awe on his face as they walk the trail into the boreal forest, warm golden light through the trees. A frisson goes through Mark as he hears the Song in the land, feeling the heartbeat of the Earth as the ground crunches beneath their feet. Sören starts happy dancing again, making Anthony laugh.
"Kinda makes me want to take my clothes off and just... walk around naked." Sören giggles. "Or, you know, not walk." He gives Anthony a pointed look.
Anthony shakes his head, laughing harder. "Sören, you're bloody incorrigible. Sex on the brain."
"It's not just sex, I'm appreciating nature." Sören holds out his arms and does a spin. Then he turns back to Anthony, grinning. "But jæja, sex out here would be nice too."
Mark remembers their foursome in the redwoods, and he feels that stirring of desire, wanting to rut with his mates, one with nature, one with the Song. Anthony seems to like the idea - Mark recognizes that look in Anthony's eyes, and that smug little smirk. But rather than indulging Sören right away and starting to undress, Anthony says, "Well, if you really want to fuck out here in the wild, then let's not do anything half-arsed. Let's be total animals." Anthony smacks Sören's ass and growls. "That means you better run."
Sören attempts a wink - it's a clumsy blink, which Mark finds endearing - and Sören gives a sassy butt wiggle before he scampers off, giggling. Anthony and Mark give him a minute for a head start before they chase after him.
Mark knows Sören can't run very fast or very far, but Sören still gives it his best shot, jogging down the trail, laughing and breathing harder. Mark can run faster than Anthony, with his Elven constitution, but he deliberately keeps his pace matched with Anthony's, having a good idea of what Anthony's got in mind. It doesn't take long for Anthony and Mark to be on Sören's heels, and Sören starts running in zig-zags to try to outmaneuver them if he can't entirely outpace them. After a few zigs and zags, Anthony finally sprints ahead of Sören and gets in his way, before grabbing Sören in an aggressive bear hug, making Sören squeak.
Together, Anthony and Mark strip Sören - roughly, almost tearing off his clothes. Sören's panting isn't just from exertion now, and once he's fully naked he licks his lips, as if to ask What are you going to do with me now?
Anthony stands behind Sören, holding him in a lock so he can't break free, while Mark undresses. Anthony starts kissing down Sören's neck and whispering, "You want this, don't you, little slut?" Sören whimpers and nods, and cries out when Anthony nips where the neck and shoulder meet.
Once Mark is naked, he grabs Sören and holds onto him while Anthony gets naked. Mark reaches between Sören's legs - Sören is already soaked - and gently plays with him, continuing Anthony's work on his sensitive neck, his cunt throbbing at Sören's breathy moans.
Anthony walks over to Sören, kisses him fiercely, and then he snatches Sören from Mark and shoves him down in the grass. While Sören is submissive to Anthony, this time he puts up a little bit of a fight, kissing Anthony hard while attempting to grapple. Mark watches, touching himself, electrified by Sören and Anthony kissing, biting, grabbing, scratching, as they roll around in the grass, trying to pin each other. Mark and Anthony have done this before, play-fighting before rough sex, and Mark goes mad with lust at seeing Sören's primal, animal side come out, the heat and hunger in Sören's eyes as he bites Anthony's neck and digs his nails in Anthony's ass, growling.
Anthony finally looks up at Mark, who takes that as his cue to saunter over. Mark kneels in the dirt and grabs Sören's wrists, pinning them. Anthony gives a menacing laugh and says, "I've got you now." He touches Sören's face and kisses him before he works his way down Sören's body, kissing and nibbling, while Sören's breath comes out in shuddery gasps - Mark can smell how aroused Sören is, and his own cream drips in response.
Anthony rubs his nose in Sören's bush and growls into Sören's cunt, furiously tongue-lashing. Sören bucks and cries out. "Oh, fuck," Sören yells, echoing through the trees. "Oh, Daddy..."
"Mmmmmmm. Such a wet, slutty pussy." Anthony growls again, before making filthy slurping noises as he sucks.
While Anthony licks and sucks at Sören, Mark leans in to kiss him, and Sören moans into each kiss. Mark plays with Sören's pierced nipples, making them harden into long, thick, delectable peaks. They look too tantalizing and Mark can't help himself, moving down to lap and suckle one nipple as he plays with the other, and Sören moans louder, gently rolling his hips to fuck himself on Anthony's tongue. Mark's cunt aches for relief, but he follows Anthony's lead, knowing Anthony always conducts a good performance.
After awhile, when Sören's thighs are visibly quivering and Mark knows he's close, Anthony leans up and gives Mark a sensual open-mouthed kiss, tongues teasing, making streamers with Sören's cream. Tasting Sören on Anthony's tongue makes Mark's cunt throb again, dripping.
It's even hotter when Anthony kisses Sören, the two of them moaning together into the kiss. Anthony spreads Sören and settles between their thighs; Mark hears himself sigh as he watches their cunts kiss. Mark leans back, playing with himself as he watches Anthony fuck Sören, holding him by the wrists, Sören rocking his hips to match Anthony's rhythm, panting "yes Daddy, yes, yes... Daddy, fuck me Daddy..."
Mark goes wild, pawing himself frantically as he watches their cunts slap together, making that deliciously lewd wet suctioning sound. He loves it when Anthony turns into a beast, fucking hard, and Sören gives that passion right back, bucking and panting and snarling. When Mark feels himself getting closer, he stops playing with himself and sticks his slick fingers in Sören's mouth, cunt throbbing as Sören's full lips wrap around his fingers, sucking with lust in his eyes, relishing the cream. When Sören licks Mark's fingers clean, Mark can't take it anymore and he straddles Sören's shoulders, facing Anthony. Sören gets right to work, viciously devouring him, licking fast and sucking hard, slurping. Mark plays with Sören's nipples, rubbing them as Sören's tongue laps, pinching and pulling them when Sören sucks on him. "Fuck, that's good," Mark groans, rolling his hips, fucking Sören's mouth.
Anthony leans in and starts sucking on the nub of Mark's hard cock, while Sören's tongue slips into Mark's cunt, rubbing the inner walls, the two of them still grinding together as they share. Mark cries out, trying to hold back from coming right away, needing to feel the lavish pleasure of two hungry mouths on him. He loves it even more when Anthony and Sören kiss open-mouthed, tongues rubbing together, making a sloppy mess with his juices before they resume feasting on him, pleasuring him. Mark loses himself in the sweetness of Anthony's lips and Sören's wicked tongue, the sensations more and more intense until he shatters, squirting all over their faces.
That sets Sören and Anthony off, climaxing together, kissing passionately and clinging together as they spasm and shudder. With their foreheads close they breathe each other's breath, lips close enough to kiss, before they kiss again, tenderly and sensually. Mark throbs again watching them, beautiful and delicious.
"I love you, baby boy," Anthony husks, kissing the tip of Sören's nose, eyes crinkled in a sweet smile.
"I love you too." Sören hugs Anthony tight. "And you." He reaches out to touch Mark's face, and Anthony takes Mark's hand and squeezes.
"Yes." Anthony kisses Mark's hand. "Love you guys SO much."
"I love both of you more than you know." Mark feels that tight ache in his chest again, glad he has them, grateful for magical moments like this. Grateful for the first glimpse at the future they might have together.
"That was fun," Sören says. He laughs and gives a contented little smile.
Mark licks up his juices from both their faces - and skritches Sören's beard like he's a cat - before kissing each of them in turn. "That was really hot." He thinks to himself, Profane, yet sacred, but does not speak the words aloud. Something tells him they still heard, and agree.
They rest for awhile, curled up together, naked in the forest. Mark wonders if it was like this for the awakened Eldar in Cuiviénen, ages ago, wild and untamed before the Laws. It's as if they've reclaimed something - as debauched as their fuck was, it also feels like a return to innocence.
And to Macalaurë Fëanorion, it's a return of hope. Laying naked with his mates, loving and being loved, he reflects on how this seems like a reverse of the Helcaraxë journey... finding home, in each other's arms. The Doom might be far behind at last.
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