Off the Beaten Track for ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
stormatdusk
Jul. 20th, 2009 03:26 pm![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
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wordsontongueTitle: Off the Beaten Track
Author:noalinnea
Rating: G
Warnings: none
Beta: Wonderful Sarah who yet has to register an account
Request: Genres - i really do love it all, but if you want specifics, let's say angst with a happy ending, or humor. but seriously, i read and love all genres so write what you'd like to!; prompt(s) or general mood(s) - spiral, paper cut, smoking
Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction and every little detail is made up.
(1) Elvish wisdom & Tea
"Do you mind if I sit down?"
Viggo snaps out of his thoughts and looks up to find Orlando smiling at him, holding out a Styrofoam cup with steaming hot tea.
"Not at all" he smiles, and handing him the cup the younger man gingerly lowers himself onto the log next to him, all elvish grace, Viggo notes with a smirk.
"You okay?" Orlando asks, his eyes as always startling in their light blue intensity, Legolas' eyes until he removes the colored contacts at the end of the day.
"I hate it when you're eyes aren't your eyes." Viggo sighs not able to push the thought away. Whenever he has those blue eyes directed upon him he has the feeling that all the sometimes somewhat labyrinthine paths of his thoughts are on display.
But apparently they aren't because Orlando raises one inquiring eyebrow, trying to trace back Viggo's line of thought.
"The contacts." Viggo offers.
"Right. They won't be there at the pub tonight."
Viggo smiles at him. "Good. You were saying?"
"I was just wondering if you're okay. You've been keeping a lot to yourself today."
Viggo sighs. Perceptive as only an elf would be. He reaches out to give Orlando's shoulder an affectionate squeeze, nodding.
"I'm fine. Just- I don't know- melancholic might be the expression I'm looking for." He shrugs and takes a sip of his tea.
"I'd say brooding," Orlando says, a small smile chasing over his clean shaven face to make way for a more serious expression, his blue eyes thoroughly scanning Viggo. He furrows his brow, and slightly cocks his head to the side, obviously trying to work up the courage to ask something.
"Yes, you may ask whatever you want to" Viggo says with a smile, "and if there's an answer to your question you'll get that, too."
Orlando bites his lip, searching for the right words.
"Why don't you just tell him?" he then asks, quietly.
Viggo looks at him for a moment before his eyes move straight over to where Sean is sitting in the sun next to Ian at the other side of the clearing, chatting animatedly.
Perceptive, he thinks, so very perceptive, briefly wondering when he's stopped being able to hide things from Orlando. Then he softly shakes his head and says "I can't," not even bothering to try and pretend that he doesn't know what Orlando is talking about.
His eyes still resting on Sean's back he hears Orlando ask: "Why not?"
"I just can't."
"What are you afraid of?" Orlando asks.
Viggo drags his eyes off Sean and turns back towards the elf.
"That's not what this is about."
"Then what is this about? Why can't you just tell him? He likes you, he's not going to slap you for telling him."
Viggo smiles warmly at his insistence.
"I know. But he's in the middle of divorce. I don't want to make things more complicated for him than they already are."
"But how can you know that he's not-"
Viggo interrupts him. "He knows," he says quietly.
Orlando holds his breath for a second. "So you did talk about it?"
Viggo shakes his head, a small wistful smile ruffling Aragon's beard.
"But then how do you...?"
"I just know, Orlando, I saw it in his eyes. He knows. And that's why I'm not going to talk to him about it. It has to be on his terms. He isn't ready."
Orlando sighs. "But how can you possibly know if he's ever going to want to talk about it? It's affecting you. You're restless and gloomy and sitting around all by yourself, brooding. How long do you want to wait?"
Viggo shrugs, his eyes once more darting over to Sean.
"As long as I'll have to, I guess."
Peter calls for them and Orlando quickly drains his cup. Placing a hand on Viggo's arm he says: "Don't do this to yourself, Vig. You can't wait forever, Arwen might be immortal, you aren't. Talk to him before he leaves for England and find out if there's something that's worth waiting for. It'll make you sleep more peacefully. Either way."
(2) Doorsteps & Promises
It isn't more than the shadow of a feeling. He's trying to trace it back to its origins during the better part of the evening but isn't coming to a conclusion. It's there, stirring, unsettling him slightly and he doesn't know what to do about it. Maybe it's Orlando talking. He shouldn't let him be his advisor, he's too young, too inexperienced. Too daring maybe in his complete neglect of the unwritten rules of the world surrounding him, overly trustful in his unbridled enthusiasm.
Viggo sighs. Sean. Sean. Sean. With every breath, every other thought every waking minute.
He looks at his friend, there's a smile playing around his lips, and suddenly he feels overpowered by the urge of pressing his lips to those lips, those lips he's been staring at for weeks. Maybe Orlando is right. He needs to know. Even if it's selfish. He can't go on like this, can't be without seeing that man on a daily basis without knowing if there is a chance that he's coming back. Not to Middle Earth, he definitely will, but if he might be coming back to him. He needs to know if he's chasing a ghost.
It's late and the evening seems to have vanished in the blink of an eye, they always do with Sean, easy, comfortable, flowing freely. Sean's laughter reverberates in his chest and sends a shiver up his spine and he smiles and takes a sip of his wine and just enjoys what feels like the last day of summer, the last evening they have together before he's gone. It's been a mutual agreement, they didn't even have to talk about it. Dinner and their usual bottle of wine. Or two, like today. The taste of the herbs of the pasta Sean's made is mingling with the velvet of the wine that smells of sun and distant shores and he's watching the reflections of the fire in Sean's eyes and drinks in Sean's presence.
It's late and Sean's still there and they are still talking, and he, too, seems to be wanting to prolong their time together, seems unwilling to part.
But then, finally, it's time, there's no way past it and Sean gets up and yawns and Viggo follows him to the door, his heart heavy, his steps light on the wooden floor. The black air of the night is pleasantly cool against his face and he takes a deep breath, filling his lungs with the taste of the mountains of Middle Earth. Sean lingers at the door, leaning against the frame, and both look out into the sparkling immenseness above them, silent for a moment, both lost in thought before they start bantering back and forth again, still not ready to leave and let leave.
And then Viggo voices what he's been wanting to say the whole evening, that he can't imagine not to be spending half of his evenings like this, with Sean, and Sean smiles and agrees, his voice soft and his eyes never leaving Viggo's. That's when he's lost. There's no further thought. The impulse is too strong and he's tired of suppressing it. He closes the short distance between them and kisses Sean, his lips immediately finding what they've been looking for despite the semi-darkness. Sean doesn't move a millimetre, but his lips respond to the soft pressure applied to them, Viggo can't tell if it's a mere reflex and suddenly it feels very wrong to be kissing Sean, suddenly he's very aware that he's invading Sean's personal space and he pulls back quickly. His heart races in his chest, his thoughts are swirling, making him dizzy.
He shouldn't have.
He doesn't quite dare to look into Sean's eyes, too afraid of what he might see there and is almost thankful that there isn't more light, light to illuminate his mistake.
"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have-I-"
He swallows to make his voice stop shaking.
"I see you in three weeks. Take care."
The soft click of the door roars through the empty house, and then it's silent and he feels his chest constrict painfully. Trembling he rests his head against the door and tries to grab one of the thoughts speeding through his brain. Not a sound is to be heard apart from the blood drumming in his ears and he wonders if the world has just stopped existing. He waits, forcing himself to take a couple of deep breaths. The other side of the door's silent, waiting as well.
"You're still standing there, aren't you?" he asks through the wood.
"Yeah." Sean's voice is muffled and he can't say if it's anger or confusion or joy or a mixture of all of it he's hearing. He takes another deep breath and flicks on the lights before slowly opening the door, clinging to it as if for dear life. He needs to see, even if it's going to hurt. Sean needs to see, too.
When blue meets green he almost flinches at Sean's expression.
He's looking at Sean. At Sean himself. Probably for the first time ever. All the different layers of protection are gone, the curtains behind the skilful actor hides himself from the eyes of the world, and it's Sean in his essence, and that almost takes his breath away.
They look at each other for a long moment, too agitated to talk. Sean finally ventures to speak:
"I'm sorry, Vig, I-"
His voice trails off and he looks pained and Viggo wonders if he's going to yell out in pain any second, Sean's words slicing into his heart like paper cuts, his chest constricting further and his surroundings starting to spin.
"You don't have to apologize" he says quickly. "I shouldn't have-"
Sean shakes his head. "Of course you should."
Viggo's mind turns blank like a virginal arch of paper and he can't but stare at him.
"I've been acting like a teenage girl these past weeks" Sean says, "tiptoeing around you, avoiding the conversation we should have had weeks ago. Leaving you completely in the dark."
He sincerely wishes he could say anything in reply but his brain seems to have serious compliance issues.
"I'm sorry for acting like that, it's- I-"
He stops and sighs and his eyes move to his feet for a second before they find Viggo's again.
His voice is hoarse with emotion when he continues:
"I just don't know what I'm feeling, Vig. And the divorce isn't helping either, I guess."
"You don't have to apologize, I-" he says feebly and is thankful for Sean's interruption because he isn't sure if there are more words, his mind feels numb and it's difficult to string together the thoughts.
"But I want to. I want to apologize. Geez, I-"
He sighs again and looks at Viggo for a long moment, a range of different emotions flitting over his face. Then he says quietly:
"You've come to mean so much to me." And with a lopsided smile he adds:
"And it really sucks that I have to go back to England tomorrow, of all days."
He pauses, his eyes sinking into Viggo's before they drift off for a second, then return and he scratches the side of his face while he searches for the right words.
"It's just that... I just don't know, Vig. I don't know if being away for a while will change things. I mean, maybe I just need a little more time and I'll know where I'm standing when I get back. But maybe I'm just not ready yet for something new. Maybe it's too early."
He pauses again, biting his lip. Viggo's stomach has curled into a tight knot and he is sure he's never going to be able to eat again. Ever. Not as much as a walnut. Behind his eyes he can feel tears pool up. Not now. Now isn't the time. Sean's voice is trembling when he continues.
"I'm so sorry. I wish I could tell you something else than that I just don't know. And that I don't know if I ever will know. You've already been so very patient and- I- the last thing I want is to hurt you."
"It's not your fault" Viggo said softly, fighting to contain the tears.
"In a way it is. I don't want you to hurt because of me."
He stops and looks at Viggo and there are tears in his eyes, too, or maybe it's the light, just the light that's reflected, Viggo thinks.
"I don't want you to wait for something that's probably not going to happen."
Viggo tries to fight the desperation that washes over him and threatens to throw him off balance.
"Tell me one thing" he asks, his voice almost a whisper. Upon Sean's asking gaze he adds:
"Don't you want me to wait so I won't get hurt or don't you want me to wait?"
Sean is silent for a moment and he can see him quarrel with himself.
His voice is almost inaudible when he says:
"Maybe it's just easier to draw a line here, a final one and just be friends."
"Don't you want me to wait?" Viggo repeats, trying to fight the panic that stretches out its claws after him.
"I want you to wait. But I can't possibly..." he says, but Viggo interrupts him:
"If you want us to just be friends I'll find a way. But not because it's easier."
Sean casts down his eyes. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to..."
"Don't" Viggo says, gently touching his shoulder.
"Don't apologize. I know what you mean. And I'm so sorry for my terrible timing, you've already enough things going on with the divorce and everything and I-"
He takes a deep breath and looks Sean straight in the eyes.
"I don't want to push any pressure on you- but if there is a chance that you'll know when you get back I'll wait."
There definitely are tears in his eyes now and his voice is thick with emotion when he says: "Vig, I don't know if I..."
Viggo can feel himself nod. "I know, you don't have to be. We can always just be friends if you don't."
Sean looks at him, blinking away the tears and then there suddenly is a smile erupting from the corner of his eyes and spreading through his beard to hug his lips.
"We'll talk when you get back here, okay?"
Sean nods. "I'll give you a call when I know when I'll be back. But don't tell the hobbits."
"I won't" Viggo promises, feeling his lips stretch into a smile as well.
They look at each other for a long moment, trying to adjust to the new angle.
"I should probably get going. My flight's at 6:30 and-"
"You haven't packed a sock" Viggo finishes for him.
Sean's face mirrors his. "Indeed I have not."
"So, then this is goodbye."
"It is. Watch out for the hobbit. And the elf."
"I will."
"So- I see you in three weeks."
Viggo nods. "Yeah. Take care."
"You, too."
They're looking at each other for another long moment before Sean steps closer and wraps his arms around Viggo, hugging him tightly. "Thanks" Viggo hears him mumble into his hair.
(3) The other side of the world
The hours are turning into days, every second a little eternity and he hasn't heard as much as a word. The skies have swallowed him whole it seems. Hope has made way for the sting of insecurity, his certainty fading with every day that passes. He can't sleep and wanders through the empty house at night, the moonlight illuminating the table with Sean's glass on it where he's left it, waiting for him to return. Leaving it there makes it easier to hope.
He's been lying. Or not exactly lying. But he's seemed so strong during that conversation, stable. As if he could wait. But it's eating at him. He misses Sean, misses his smile, misses his presence during the shots and the uncertainty drives him crazy. He wants to call him, several times to just hear his voice, if just for a second, he needs to know he's still there, still caring. But he doesn't because he feels is not his place. Sean's with his family- or what's left of it this time and he doesn't want to intrude, doesn't want to put pressure on him.
But at night he can't sleep and then at the pub there's too many beers, the hobbits definitely are a bad influence, and she's sitting next to him, blonde locks and that smile that's like a sunrise in the mountains, and it's nice and he's enjoying himself for the first time in weeks. And then they are walking over the dark parking lot to her car and her lips capture his and her hands tangle in his hair and he just let's himself float for a moment, his tongue welcoming hers before his brain kicks back in and he pulls back: "I'm sorry, I- there's-"
He takes a deep breath, his eyes finding hers. "My heart's not free."
There's a smile playing around her lips, soft, promising and there's a sparkle in her eyes.
"It doesn't have to be, my king, mine is neither."
And she's so close and it's too much for him too handle, the alcohol fogging his brain and before he can do anything about it his hands are caressing her cheeks and all those weeks of restraint crash down onto him and he seals his lips over hers and pushes away the thoughts that are thousands of miles away in Europe.
(4) London calling
The connection is bad and he sounds continents away. Well, he is.
"Hi, it's me." It's enough to make his heart beat accelerate as if he's sprinted up a flight of stairs.
"S'it still raining?"
He smiles. "It's a pity there are no submarines in Middle Earth."
He can hear Sean chuckle softly. "The horses wouldn't like that" he says.
"They probably wouldn't. How are you?"
He can literally hear him shrug.
"I guess I'll live." And after a short pause he adds: "It's not pretty."
"I'm sorry."
Sean sighs. "Yeah. So am I. But it's great to see the girls. What about you?"
"I'm drenched, most of the time."
Sean's laughter makes Viggo's toes curl and he says softly:
"It's different without you. You're missing here."
The line goes quiet. Viggo bites his lip.
"Actually, I-"
Viggo feels himself hold his breath and he closes his eyes.
There's a loud bang and then there are footsteps and a "Daaa-aaad, I'm hooo-oome!" and he can hear Sean swear softly.
"Damn it, I- I'm sorry, Vig, I need to go- I-"
"It's okay."
"No, it isn't, but-" There's a pause and a deep breath is being taken in Europe.
"I just called to hear your voice."
He turns away from the receiver.
"Hi sweetheart."
"Hi dad. Who's on the phone?"
"A friend from New Zealand" Sean answers.
"Is he going to dine with us?"
He can see Sean's smile.
"Not today. Listen, why don't you go change and I'll be downstairs in a second?"
"Okay," he hears he say before she scampers off.
"Vig? You still there?"
"Yeah."
"I'm sorry."
"Don't be. She sounds sweet."
"She is. But she'll be back every second. I'll be back on Thursday or Friday, I'll let you know when I've made reservations."
"That'd be great."
"Well- have a pleasant week."
"You, too. Take care."
When the line goes dead he sits down, the conversation crashing down on him. He should be happy. He's been waiting for that phone call for a fortnight. His heart should be dancing. But it isn't. Blonde locks are interfering with his joy. He's broken his promise.
(5) There and back again
When he returns to his trailer to part with Aragon for the day Sean's there as if he belongs there, a newspaper spread across his lap. When he looks up his expression is unreadable for a second and Viggo feels as if he won't be able to walk across the room, let alone wait without fidgeting until his make-up and wig are removed. Or talk.
But then there's a smile lighting Sean's face and his own face mirrors it instantly.
"My king" Sean says, slightly bowing his head.
"Lord Boromir" Viggo answers with a smile. "You're back earlier."
"The winds were fortunate" Sean grins and Lucy just rolls her eyes at them.
"You're nuts. And now sit down before you decide to make a run for it in your costume."
The sun is setting when they emerge from the trailer. Sean's eyes find his and he needs to force himself to meet his gaze. "Can we talk?" Sean asks softly and again he can't breathe. But manages to nod. And adds: "I don't think I can drive."
His voice is hoarse. Sean eyes him closely for a second, then nods and holds out his hand for the keys.
They drive in silence, the car not being the adequate surrounding for a conversation. Viggo is too wound up to make small talk. There'll be time for that the next day.
The house is cool and smells of the flowers Viggo has cut that morning. He walks into the living room, Sean behind him and when he turns Sean's standing a step too close and both hold their breaths for a second. Then Sean takes an audible breath, an apologetic smile around his lips: "I didn't think it would be this hard, I-"
He pauses and looks at Viggo before continuing. "I'm sorry, Vig" he whispers and Viggo feels as if he's been hit in the face with a plank. He casts down his eyes, trying to hold back the tears. Then there are two gentle fingers lifting his chin up, a thumb brushing over the distinctive cleft in his skin. When his eyes meet Sean's once more there are tears weighing down his lashes. One is falling and trickling down his cheek.
"I'm so sorry I've kept you waiting that long."
Sean's voice is soft but firm and Viggo blinks once, twice, not daring to believe but when he sees tears in Sean's eyes, too and the little smile that tugs at the corners of his mouth he feels his lips twist into a smile as well, the tears falling freely at the same time. Sean leans in and brushes his lips over his cheeks and eyes, soft, featherlike and when Viggo turns up his face their lips meet. Carefully, gentle, probing and Sean's eyes circle around him and pull him close, and Viggo can taste the salt on his lips as well and then there's Sean's tongue nudging his lips apart and every coherent thought is a distant memory.
There's a knock on the door and Viggo doesn't care, nothing else matters than these lips and these hands and that man but Sean pulls back and rests his forehead against Viggo's, smiling and brushing some stray strands of hair behind his ears. Viggo groans. "Just ignore it."
But Sean shakes his head. "I don't want four hobbits to be storming through your flowerbeds and cheering us on through the window."
Viggo sighs. "You may have a point there."
Blonde locks and that smile, that smile that has never hurt as much before.
"Hi." She steps closer and places her lips on his in a quick kiss, slightly too long to be just friendly and Viggo can't pull back, his body refusing to move. He feels Sean's eyes burn into his back and just wants to cry out in pain.
"I thought maybe you'd want to dine with me?" she asks with a smile, unaware of the damage done and holds up a bag of groceries.
Finally he finds his voice and moves to the side, so she can look past him to where Sean's standing.
"Sean's back" is all he manages to say.
Her smile widens and she steps past him into the hallway and again he can't move, can't turn around, can't see the pain in Sean's eyes.
"Hi Sean, it's good to see you" he hears her say.
"You, too." His voice is calm, too calm.
"How was your flight?"
"A nightmare" Sean sighs and Viggo mentally whacks himself for not being as considerate. Of course.
"Do you have any plans I'm interrupting?" she asks and Viggo turns around. Their eyes meet and for split second Sean let's his guard slip and Viggo's stomach turns at the pain his eyes display but then the mask is firmly back in place and he turns to Miranda with a smile
"No. I was just on my way home. It's been a long day. He's all yours. You two have a nice evening."
Then he steps past Viggo and Viggo doesn't want anything more than to reach out for him, to wrap him into his arms and explain. Explain that she's not what matters.
There's no expression whatsoever in Sean's eyes when he looks at him. "I'll see you."
Then there's only his back as he walks away over the lawn and Viggo notices he didn't know shoulders could cry.
(6) Hurt
He emerges from the trailer to get his sword that he's left in the car and walks headfirst into Sean. Their eyes meet for a moment and the crystal clear mirror image of his own pain in the features he loves so much takes his breath away. Then Sean just steps aside and is gone without as much as a second look and Viggo wonders if it's going to be like this, just looks, looks that hurt like hits, just pain and no words. No words at all.
Orlando crouches down next to him when he adjusts his shoes.
"What happened?" he asks, clearly worried.
Viggo swallows, impatiently tearing at a knot that doesn't want to come apart before Orlando gently swats away his hands and unties it swiftly.
"What happened, Vig?" he repeats. "You look as if you haven't slept at all. Not in a good way, though."
"I messed it up" he says through gritted tears.
"What? How?" Orlando's voice is pure astonishment.
"I betrayed his trust."
"I don't understand."
Viggo looks up and into the elf's blue eyes. "I broke a promise I made. An important one."
"Then go make it right."
Viggo got up, brushing the dust off his trousers.
"I can't. Some things just can't be made right."
He reaches for the reins of the horse patiently waiting next to him and is in the saddle the next second, leaving Orlando's brow furrowed in concern.
It isn't getting better. It's getting worse. Sean's looking like as if he's not doing very well at sleeping either but does a hell of a job in avoiding him. Whenever someone yells 'cut' he's already on his way in another direction or joking with the hobbits or in conversation with Ian or John, and Viggo just stands there, disappointment and anger and frustration coloring his cheeks, and there barely is as much as a glance shared.
Finally he leaves a note at his mirror.
-Can we talk?-
When he returns to his trailer in the evening there's one waiting for him in return.
–There's nothing to talk about. You're a grown man, you do whatever you want.-
He walks over to his door and waits there in the dark, evening after evening, never managing to bring up the courage to knock. He has no right. He's had his chance and he's blown it and it's not fair to try and force Sean to listen to him.
(7) Gone
They're drenched and dirty and Viggo's cold to the bone and so tired he can't see straight anymore and Peter finally calls it a day and they walk back to where the choppers already are waiting, rotor blades cutting through the thick curtain of rain. Sean's two steps ahead of him, Andy at his side, both as tired as he is, he can see it in their slumping shoulders. All of them have stopped trying to dodge the rain hours ago and it's drumming upon their heads and running into their collars. He stares at the broad shoulders in front of him and wonders if he shouldn't give it another try. But he's too tired and it's just going to hurt even more and it's probably more than he can deal with today.
They walk over to the chopper at their left and Viggo isn't too sorry that it's already packed. He climbs into the second chopper and gratefully accepts the towel a dripping wet Ian hands him. The doors are slammed shut and he closes his eyes for a second. Then the chopper lifts, swaying in the wind and automatically his thoughts are with Sean again and he half wishes he was in the other chopper with him. If he wouldn't be able to calm him his presence might unsettle him as much that he'd be distracted he thinks, bitter.
His eyes follow the other chopper through the raging sky, it has lifted off before them and is already farther down the mountain side. He sees it sway violently and his heart skips a beat and then there's another heavy gust of wind and it goes into tailspin, its circles getting smaller and smaller, the wind angrier with the second, tossing it around like a ball. And then the green tree tops of the steep hilltop swallow it and it's gone. He can't but stare out of the window, his thoughts spiraling out of control. At the border of his conscious he hears their pilot call for his colleague. "Zealand Star- come in--- Zealand Star- can you here me? Ted?" But there's just the static and the sound of the rain and wind and the panic in the pilot's voice when he starts all over, calling into the roar of the unleashed sky around them. They are loosing height now and Viggo tries to keep his eyes fixed on the spot where the chopper has vanished but everything is zooming in and out of focus and the contours are blurring when he suddenly feels Ian's hand on his shoulder, almost bruising in it's intensity and then he sees what Ian has seen: A thin line of smoke emerging between the three tops, engaging in a short battle with the rain before it vanishes. The pilot's voice wavers and then falls silent and the trees lie still as if nothing has disturbed them.
(8) Done waiting
He's cold and tired and every muscle in his body is sore and all he cares for is a hot shower, a glass of brandy and his bed.
The faces around them were ashen when the emerged from the chopper of the air rescue services and where Peter's embrace almost had choked him John's almost had caused multiple rib fractures, to judge from the pain at least. He was dizzy and felt drained and it hasn't been easy to convince the doctor to let him go home. Finally she's agreed though, yet telling him she didn't like it. In his hand she's placed a couple of mild sedatives. To help him sleep. He's become that used to sleep eluding him that he's almost asked if she doesn't have anything to dull the constant pain in his chest. But there are no pills against heartache, he knows from experience.
He walks over to the parking lot where David ushers him into his car. He doesn't have it in him to ask where Viggo is, it doesn't matter anyway, not anymore. He sighs, watching the rain cascade down the windshield. Maybe the sedatives aren't too bad an idea after all.
David hasn't said a word since they have left he notices through the fog of tiredness enveloping his brain and when he looks at him there are tears in his eyes. Sean has to swallow down the lump in his throat before he says: "We're all fine, David."
David nods and swallows, his eyes firmly fixed on the road.
"I know. But it'll take a few hours until the shock wears off."
Yeah, Sean thinks, probably not just a few hours. Briefly he wonders if there are ships going from New Zealand to London on a regular basis and if he would have to share them with apples and sheep before his eyes drift shut
A flock of shaken looking hobbits and a disheveled elf are waiting for him in their trailer, and involuntarily his eyes scan the room for Viggo, in vain, and then there's another round of hugs, and he can't look into their eyes, there are too many tears and the shock's still too fresh, it's not going to take much to reduce him to a sobbing bundle and he'd prefer if he was alone when that happens. Gratefully he accepts a huge mug Orlando hands him, a mug of something hot with something alcoholic inside and lets himself be pushed onto the couch. A blanket is being wrapped around his shoulders and Elijah is plastered to his side, almost in his lap actually, and any other day he would bother and move him but for now he doesn't care. It would be slightly comforting, actually if the kid didn't look that scared.
The silence is hanging heavy above their heads before Dom finally tries to ease the tension:
"We thought we'd have one hell of a dead Boromir to shoot with" he says.
"I'm sorry to disappoint you" Sean answers without a second thought, thankful for the opportunity to make clear that he's fine and that it's okay to joke about it.
"If you absolutely need me dead to improve you're acting performance you'll have to kill me yourself" he says, winking at Dom who snorts in mock indignance.
"I take it your strange sense of humour wasn't damaged in the crash" he mutters.
"Sorry to disappoint you in that respect, too."
The faces around them are gradually brightening and even Elijah is sporting something similar to a smile. There's a mischievous twinkle in Billy's eyes and he nudges Dom with his elbow.
"Oh, stuff it, you're just pissed off that Sean's now the one with the real near-death experience, your splinter is a fleabite compared to that."
They all start laughing, even Dom and the tension is being lifted a good part of the way when Karl opens the door and steps into the room, his expression grave. He shrugs out of his dripping jacket and searches Sean's eyes. He nods, a tiny smile appearing around his lips and for Sean there are no more words necessary.
He settles down next to Billy who immediately asks:
"Have you heard anything from Viggo?"
Karl shakes his head. "No. Peter says they're going to send out a search party if he's not back within two hours."
"What about Viggo?" Sean asks, his breath hitching in his throat. Karl and Orlando share a quick look, clearly uncomfortable.
"He's---" Orlando starts hesitantly but Elijah blurts out:
"He was all pale and silent and then he just stormed off into the rain."
"Yeah" Dom adds. "It was-spooky. He was completely-"
A stern look from Orlando causes him to stop.
"What?" he asks "Why can't I-"
"Just because, Dom, shut up" Karl sighs. Orlando looks up at Sean, his eyes darker than usually.
"Thing is, he probably doesn't know yet that you guys are okay" he says, quietly.
Sean's head starts swimming. The room vanishes for a second before zooming back in, but somewhat distorted. But something else is missing and then he realises, everything's silent, his friends' mouths are moving but he's not hearing anything, his blood drumming in his ears, his heart pounding in his chest, and the panic that hits him with full force makes him feel nauseated and he breaks into a slight sweat. His mind is racing but he can't form a clear thought and then there's a gentle pressure on his arm and he manages to force the room back into focus and finds Orlando's eyes still fixed upon him.
"You okay?" he hears him ask, and he nods, relieved.
Everybody looks uncomfortable again, the concern and worry creeping back into the room. It's not a good day for Middle earth.
"Do you want us to leave?" Elijah asks. "You look terrible. Maybe you just want to try and sleep" he adds with a small smile.
Sean feels himself nod. "Yeah, maybe that's a good idea."
They say their goodnights and troop out through the door. "I'll call if I hear anything" Karl says and he and Orlando both nod. "Thanks" he hears Orlando say. Then the door closes and it's just the two of them left.
"What happened?" he asks, almost breathless, his voice hoarse.
Orlando shakes his head. "He was-I don't know. He seemed-I've never seen anything like that before. He didn't say a word. He just looked- hollow, I guess. And in the commotion he was gone before anyone noticed. Aragon gear and everything. Apparently just walked out into the rain."
Sean nods and sighs, suddenly feeling twice as tired. If that's even possible. When he looks up into Orlando's eyes he sees an almost panicky expression spreading there, now unchecked as his friends are gone.
"You're worried" Sean says quietly.
Orlando bites his lip. "Yeah. I know, it sounds silly-but you didn't see his expression-he-you mean so much to him. I just-"
He swallows and casts down his eyes and Sean, too, can feel the contained tears starting to surface but he wills them away. He swallows down a snarky comment about just how much Viggo cares about him apparently and tries to pull himself together. Tears aren't what Orlando can handle right now. He brings up his last ounces of willpower and strength and reaches out for Orlando's shoulder.
"Don't worry, I'm sure he's fine" he says, as confident as he can.
"But what if-"
Sean shakes his head. "He's grieving. That's terrible because there's no reason but he probably just needs time. The rain and the night will drive him back home sooner or later."
Orlando doesn't look as if he's convinced but at least he's a little calmer now. He sighs.
"Maybe we'd better try and get some sleep."
Sean nods. "Yeah. Or try to at least."
There's a sympathetic little smile on Orlando's face and he nods. "Just tell me if you need anything. Even if it's just company to sit through a sleepless night" he offers.
"Thanks, Orlando. I really appreciate it."
Orlando winks at him, grinning. "Hey, no need to get all warm and fuzzy, Bean. Don't get used to it, it's just because you almost died."
Sean nods, smiling. "Alright, understood."
There are hasty footsteps on the gravel and then the door's being shoved open and Viggo is standing there, panting, dripping wet, his hair plastered to his head, eyes wild. He quickly scans the room, freezing when his eyes fall on Sean. Closing his eyes for a moment he exhales shakily, his shoulders slumping.
Sean has risen from his seat, his eyes glued to Viggo and Orlando somehow manages to pull an elvish stunt and disappears without making a sound.
When Viggo opens his eyes they just stare at each other for a long moment, both trying to exert something that resembles control over their feelings. Viggo's eyes are burning into his while he tries to convince himself that what he seeing is true, that Sean's unharmed and Sean can feel the tears he's tried to hold back the whole evening shoot into his eyes but before they can fall from there's a broken sob escaping Viggo's lips and he launches himself at Sean, grabs his shirt and drags him into a hug that makes John's look like the pet of a child's hand.
He's shaking with violent sobs and Sean just holds him, his own tears mingling with the rain's wetness in Viggo's hair.
"I'm still here, Vig, I'm okay" he whispers.
"I thought you-"
"It's alright, I'm not. I'm okay" he says, all gentle reassurance.
Viggo squeezes him tightly then pulls back slightly to look at Sean but without letting go of him. His eyes are bloodshot and tears are still clouding them. He's silent for a moment before the words he's been holding back for long start tumbling from his lips:
"I'm so sorry, Sean, I so sorry I didn't-"
But Sean just smiles through his tears and shakes his head.
"Don't" he says softly. And adds: "There's no need to explain. I can see it in your eyes."
Viggo blinks in astonishment, once, twice, before his face twists into an almost manic grin, his eyes twinkling with joy and relief, and he seals his lips over Sean's in a kiss that's almost bruising in its ferocity and leaves both of them panting and trembling in each others arms. Viggo smiles and runs his hands through Sean's hair and down his cheeks and gently traces his cheekbone, the one without the band-aid. He leans his forehead against Sean's and his voice is soft when he whispers:
"I'm so sorry I've kept you waiting."
Author:
noalinneaRating: G
Warnings: none
Beta: Wonderful Sarah who yet has to register an account
Request: Genres - i really do love it all, but if you want specifics, let's say angst with a happy ending, or humor. but seriously, i read and love all genres so write what you'd like to!; prompt(s) or general mood(s) - spiral, paper cut, smoking
Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction and every little detail is made up.
(1) Elvish wisdom & Tea
"Do you mind if I sit down?"
Viggo snaps out of his thoughts and looks up to find Orlando smiling at him, holding out a Styrofoam cup with steaming hot tea.
"Not at all" he smiles, and handing him the cup the younger man gingerly lowers himself onto the log next to him, all elvish grace, Viggo notes with a smirk.
"You okay?" Orlando asks, his eyes as always startling in their light blue intensity, Legolas' eyes until he removes the colored contacts at the end of the day.
"I hate it when you're eyes aren't your eyes." Viggo sighs not able to push the thought away. Whenever he has those blue eyes directed upon him he has the feeling that all the sometimes somewhat labyrinthine paths of his thoughts are on display.
But apparently they aren't because Orlando raises one inquiring eyebrow, trying to trace back Viggo's line of thought.
"The contacts." Viggo offers.
"Right. They won't be there at the pub tonight."
Viggo smiles at him. "Good. You were saying?"
"I was just wondering if you're okay. You've been keeping a lot to yourself today."
Viggo sighs. Perceptive as only an elf would be. He reaches out to give Orlando's shoulder an affectionate squeeze, nodding.
"I'm fine. Just- I don't know- melancholic might be the expression I'm looking for." He shrugs and takes a sip of his tea.
"I'd say brooding," Orlando says, a small smile chasing over his clean shaven face to make way for a more serious expression, his blue eyes thoroughly scanning Viggo. He furrows his brow, and slightly cocks his head to the side, obviously trying to work up the courage to ask something.
"Yes, you may ask whatever you want to" Viggo says with a smile, "and if there's an answer to your question you'll get that, too."
Orlando bites his lip, searching for the right words.
"Why don't you just tell him?" he then asks, quietly.
Viggo looks at him for a moment before his eyes move straight over to where Sean is sitting in the sun next to Ian at the other side of the clearing, chatting animatedly.
Perceptive, he thinks, so very perceptive, briefly wondering when he's stopped being able to hide things from Orlando. Then he softly shakes his head and says "I can't," not even bothering to try and pretend that he doesn't know what Orlando is talking about.
His eyes still resting on Sean's back he hears Orlando ask: "Why not?"
"I just can't."
"What are you afraid of?" Orlando asks.
Viggo drags his eyes off Sean and turns back towards the elf.
"That's not what this is about."
"Then what is this about? Why can't you just tell him? He likes you, he's not going to slap you for telling him."
Viggo smiles warmly at his insistence.
"I know. But he's in the middle of divorce. I don't want to make things more complicated for him than they already are."
"But how can you know that he's not-"
Viggo interrupts him. "He knows," he says quietly.
Orlando holds his breath for a second. "So you did talk about it?"
Viggo shakes his head, a small wistful smile ruffling Aragon's beard.
"But then how do you...?"
"I just know, Orlando, I saw it in his eyes. He knows. And that's why I'm not going to talk to him about it. It has to be on his terms. He isn't ready."
Orlando sighs. "But how can you possibly know if he's ever going to want to talk about it? It's affecting you. You're restless and gloomy and sitting around all by yourself, brooding. How long do you want to wait?"
Viggo shrugs, his eyes once more darting over to Sean.
"As long as I'll have to, I guess."
Peter calls for them and Orlando quickly drains his cup. Placing a hand on Viggo's arm he says: "Don't do this to yourself, Vig. You can't wait forever, Arwen might be immortal, you aren't. Talk to him before he leaves for England and find out if there's something that's worth waiting for. It'll make you sleep more peacefully. Either way."
(2) Doorsteps & Promises
It isn't more than the shadow of a feeling. He's trying to trace it back to its origins during the better part of the evening but isn't coming to a conclusion. It's there, stirring, unsettling him slightly and he doesn't know what to do about it. Maybe it's Orlando talking. He shouldn't let him be his advisor, he's too young, too inexperienced. Too daring maybe in his complete neglect of the unwritten rules of the world surrounding him, overly trustful in his unbridled enthusiasm.
Viggo sighs. Sean. Sean. Sean. With every breath, every other thought every waking minute.
He looks at his friend, there's a smile playing around his lips, and suddenly he feels overpowered by the urge of pressing his lips to those lips, those lips he's been staring at for weeks. Maybe Orlando is right. He needs to know. Even if it's selfish. He can't go on like this, can't be without seeing that man on a daily basis without knowing if there is a chance that he's coming back. Not to Middle Earth, he definitely will, but if he might be coming back to him. He needs to know if he's chasing a ghost.
It's late and the evening seems to have vanished in the blink of an eye, they always do with Sean, easy, comfortable, flowing freely. Sean's laughter reverberates in his chest and sends a shiver up his spine and he smiles and takes a sip of his wine and just enjoys what feels like the last day of summer, the last evening they have together before he's gone. It's been a mutual agreement, they didn't even have to talk about it. Dinner and their usual bottle of wine. Or two, like today. The taste of the herbs of the pasta Sean's made is mingling with the velvet of the wine that smells of sun and distant shores and he's watching the reflections of the fire in Sean's eyes and drinks in Sean's presence.
It's late and Sean's still there and they are still talking, and he, too, seems to be wanting to prolong their time together, seems unwilling to part.
But then, finally, it's time, there's no way past it and Sean gets up and yawns and Viggo follows him to the door, his heart heavy, his steps light on the wooden floor. The black air of the night is pleasantly cool against his face and he takes a deep breath, filling his lungs with the taste of the mountains of Middle Earth. Sean lingers at the door, leaning against the frame, and both look out into the sparkling immenseness above them, silent for a moment, both lost in thought before they start bantering back and forth again, still not ready to leave and let leave.
And then Viggo voices what he's been wanting to say the whole evening, that he can't imagine not to be spending half of his evenings like this, with Sean, and Sean smiles and agrees, his voice soft and his eyes never leaving Viggo's. That's when he's lost. There's no further thought. The impulse is too strong and he's tired of suppressing it. He closes the short distance between them and kisses Sean, his lips immediately finding what they've been looking for despite the semi-darkness. Sean doesn't move a millimetre, but his lips respond to the soft pressure applied to them, Viggo can't tell if it's a mere reflex and suddenly it feels very wrong to be kissing Sean, suddenly he's very aware that he's invading Sean's personal space and he pulls back quickly. His heart races in his chest, his thoughts are swirling, making him dizzy.
He shouldn't have.
He doesn't quite dare to look into Sean's eyes, too afraid of what he might see there and is almost thankful that there isn't more light, light to illuminate his mistake.
"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have-I-"
He swallows to make his voice stop shaking.
"I see you in three weeks. Take care."
The soft click of the door roars through the empty house, and then it's silent and he feels his chest constrict painfully. Trembling he rests his head against the door and tries to grab one of the thoughts speeding through his brain. Not a sound is to be heard apart from the blood drumming in his ears and he wonders if the world has just stopped existing. He waits, forcing himself to take a couple of deep breaths. The other side of the door's silent, waiting as well.
"You're still standing there, aren't you?" he asks through the wood.
"Yeah." Sean's voice is muffled and he can't say if it's anger or confusion or joy or a mixture of all of it he's hearing. He takes another deep breath and flicks on the lights before slowly opening the door, clinging to it as if for dear life. He needs to see, even if it's going to hurt. Sean needs to see, too.
When blue meets green he almost flinches at Sean's expression.
He's looking at Sean. At Sean himself. Probably for the first time ever. All the different layers of protection are gone, the curtains behind the skilful actor hides himself from the eyes of the world, and it's Sean in his essence, and that almost takes his breath away.
They look at each other for a long moment, too agitated to talk. Sean finally ventures to speak:
"I'm sorry, Vig, I-"
His voice trails off and he looks pained and Viggo wonders if he's going to yell out in pain any second, Sean's words slicing into his heart like paper cuts, his chest constricting further and his surroundings starting to spin.
"You don't have to apologize" he says quickly. "I shouldn't have-"
Sean shakes his head. "Of course you should."
Viggo's mind turns blank like a virginal arch of paper and he can't but stare at him.
"I've been acting like a teenage girl these past weeks" Sean says, "tiptoeing around you, avoiding the conversation we should have had weeks ago. Leaving you completely in the dark."
He sincerely wishes he could say anything in reply but his brain seems to have serious compliance issues.
"I'm sorry for acting like that, it's- I-"
He stops and sighs and his eyes move to his feet for a second before they find Viggo's again.
His voice is hoarse with emotion when he continues:
"I just don't know what I'm feeling, Vig. And the divorce isn't helping either, I guess."
"You don't have to apologize, I-" he says feebly and is thankful for Sean's interruption because he isn't sure if there are more words, his mind feels numb and it's difficult to string together the thoughts.
"But I want to. I want to apologize. Geez, I-"
He sighs again and looks at Viggo for a long moment, a range of different emotions flitting over his face. Then he says quietly:
"You've come to mean so much to me." And with a lopsided smile he adds:
"And it really sucks that I have to go back to England tomorrow, of all days."
He pauses, his eyes sinking into Viggo's before they drift off for a second, then return and he scratches the side of his face while he searches for the right words.
"It's just that... I just don't know, Vig. I don't know if being away for a while will change things. I mean, maybe I just need a little more time and I'll know where I'm standing when I get back. But maybe I'm just not ready yet for something new. Maybe it's too early."
He pauses again, biting his lip. Viggo's stomach has curled into a tight knot and he is sure he's never going to be able to eat again. Ever. Not as much as a walnut. Behind his eyes he can feel tears pool up. Not now. Now isn't the time. Sean's voice is trembling when he continues.
"I'm so sorry. I wish I could tell you something else than that I just don't know. And that I don't know if I ever will know. You've already been so very patient and- I- the last thing I want is to hurt you."
"It's not your fault" Viggo said softly, fighting to contain the tears.
"In a way it is. I don't want you to hurt because of me."
He stops and looks at Viggo and there are tears in his eyes, too, or maybe it's the light, just the light that's reflected, Viggo thinks.
"I don't want you to wait for something that's probably not going to happen."
Viggo tries to fight the desperation that washes over him and threatens to throw him off balance.
"Tell me one thing" he asks, his voice almost a whisper. Upon Sean's asking gaze he adds:
"Don't you want me to wait so I won't get hurt or don't you want me to wait?"
Sean is silent for a moment and he can see him quarrel with himself.
His voice is almost inaudible when he says:
"Maybe it's just easier to draw a line here, a final one and just be friends."
"Don't you want me to wait?" Viggo repeats, trying to fight the panic that stretches out its claws after him.
"I want you to wait. But I can't possibly..." he says, but Viggo interrupts him:
"If you want us to just be friends I'll find a way. But not because it's easier."
Sean casts down his eyes. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to..."
"Don't" Viggo says, gently touching his shoulder.
"Don't apologize. I know what you mean. And I'm so sorry for my terrible timing, you've already enough things going on with the divorce and everything and I-"
He takes a deep breath and looks Sean straight in the eyes.
"I don't want to push any pressure on you- but if there is a chance that you'll know when you get back I'll wait."
There definitely are tears in his eyes now and his voice is thick with emotion when he says: "Vig, I don't know if I..."
Viggo can feel himself nod. "I know, you don't have to be. We can always just be friends if you don't."
Sean looks at him, blinking away the tears and then there suddenly is a smile erupting from the corner of his eyes and spreading through his beard to hug his lips.
"We'll talk when you get back here, okay?"
Sean nods. "I'll give you a call when I know when I'll be back. But don't tell the hobbits."
"I won't" Viggo promises, feeling his lips stretch into a smile as well.
They look at each other for a long moment, trying to adjust to the new angle.
"I should probably get going. My flight's at 6:30 and-"
"You haven't packed a sock" Viggo finishes for him.
Sean's face mirrors his. "Indeed I have not."
"So, then this is goodbye."
"It is. Watch out for the hobbit. And the elf."
"I will."
"So- I see you in three weeks."
Viggo nods. "Yeah. Take care."
"You, too."
They're looking at each other for another long moment before Sean steps closer and wraps his arms around Viggo, hugging him tightly. "Thanks" Viggo hears him mumble into his hair.
(3) The other side of the world
The hours are turning into days, every second a little eternity and he hasn't heard as much as a word. The skies have swallowed him whole it seems. Hope has made way for the sting of insecurity, his certainty fading with every day that passes. He can't sleep and wanders through the empty house at night, the moonlight illuminating the table with Sean's glass on it where he's left it, waiting for him to return. Leaving it there makes it easier to hope.
He's been lying. Or not exactly lying. But he's seemed so strong during that conversation, stable. As if he could wait. But it's eating at him. He misses Sean, misses his smile, misses his presence during the shots and the uncertainty drives him crazy. He wants to call him, several times to just hear his voice, if just for a second, he needs to know he's still there, still caring. But he doesn't because he feels is not his place. Sean's with his family- or what's left of it this time and he doesn't want to intrude, doesn't want to put pressure on him.
But at night he can't sleep and then at the pub there's too many beers, the hobbits definitely are a bad influence, and she's sitting next to him, blonde locks and that smile that's like a sunrise in the mountains, and it's nice and he's enjoying himself for the first time in weeks. And then they are walking over the dark parking lot to her car and her lips capture his and her hands tangle in his hair and he just let's himself float for a moment, his tongue welcoming hers before his brain kicks back in and he pulls back: "I'm sorry, I- there's-"
He takes a deep breath, his eyes finding hers. "My heart's not free."
There's a smile playing around her lips, soft, promising and there's a sparkle in her eyes.
"It doesn't have to be, my king, mine is neither."
And she's so close and it's too much for him too handle, the alcohol fogging his brain and before he can do anything about it his hands are caressing her cheeks and all those weeks of restraint crash down onto him and he seals his lips over hers and pushes away the thoughts that are thousands of miles away in Europe.
(4) London calling
The connection is bad and he sounds continents away. Well, he is.
"Hi, it's me." It's enough to make his heart beat accelerate as if he's sprinted up a flight of stairs.
"S'it still raining?"
He smiles. "It's a pity there are no submarines in Middle Earth."
He can hear Sean chuckle softly. "The horses wouldn't like that" he says.
"They probably wouldn't. How are you?"
He can literally hear him shrug.
"I guess I'll live." And after a short pause he adds: "It's not pretty."
"I'm sorry."
Sean sighs. "Yeah. So am I. But it's great to see the girls. What about you?"
"I'm drenched, most of the time."
Sean's laughter makes Viggo's toes curl and he says softly:
"It's different without you. You're missing here."
The line goes quiet. Viggo bites his lip.
"Actually, I-"
Viggo feels himself hold his breath and he closes his eyes.
There's a loud bang and then there are footsteps and a "Daaa-aaad, I'm hooo-oome!" and he can hear Sean swear softly.
"Damn it, I- I'm sorry, Vig, I need to go- I-"
"It's okay."
"No, it isn't, but-" There's a pause and a deep breath is being taken in Europe.
"I just called to hear your voice."
He turns away from the receiver.
"Hi sweetheart."
"Hi dad. Who's on the phone?"
"A friend from New Zealand" Sean answers.
"Is he going to dine with us?"
He can see Sean's smile.
"Not today. Listen, why don't you go change and I'll be downstairs in a second?"
"Okay," he hears he say before she scampers off.
"Vig? You still there?"
"Yeah."
"I'm sorry."
"Don't be. She sounds sweet."
"She is. But she'll be back every second. I'll be back on Thursday or Friday, I'll let you know when I've made reservations."
"That'd be great."
"Well- have a pleasant week."
"You, too. Take care."
When the line goes dead he sits down, the conversation crashing down on him. He should be happy. He's been waiting for that phone call for a fortnight. His heart should be dancing. But it isn't. Blonde locks are interfering with his joy. He's broken his promise.
(5) There and back again
When he returns to his trailer to part with Aragon for the day Sean's there as if he belongs there, a newspaper spread across his lap. When he looks up his expression is unreadable for a second and Viggo feels as if he won't be able to walk across the room, let alone wait without fidgeting until his make-up and wig are removed. Or talk.
But then there's a smile lighting Sean's face and his own face mirrors it instantly.
"My king" Sean says, slightly bowing his head.
"Lord Boromir" Viggo answers with a smile. "You're back earlier."
"The winds were fortunate" Sean grins and Lucy just rolls her eyes at them.
"You're nuts. And now sit down before you decide to make a run for it in your costume."
The sun is setting when they emerge from the trailer. Sean's eyes find his and he needs to force himself to meet his gaze. "Can we talk?" Sean asks softly and again he can't breathe. But manages to nod. And adds: "I don't think I can drive."
His voice is hoarse. Sean eyes him closely for a second, then nods and holds out his hand for the keys.
They drive in silence, the car not being the adequate surrounding for a conversation. Viggo is too wound up to make small talk. There'll be time for that the next day.
The house is cool and smells of the flowers Viggo has cut that morning. He walks into the living room, Sean behind him and when he turns Sean's standing a step too close and both hold their breaths for a second. Then Sean takes an audible breath, an apologetic smile around his lips: "I didn't think it would be this hard, I-"
He pauses and looks at Viggo before continuing. "I'm sorry, Vig" he whispers and Viggo feels as if he's been hit in the face with a plank. He casts down his eyes, trying to hold back the tears. Then there are two gentle fingers lifting his chin up, a thumb brushing over the distinctive cleft in his skin. When his eyes meet Sean's once more there are tears weighing down his lashes. One is falling and trickling down his cheek.
"I'm so sorry I've kept you waiting that long."
Sean's voice is soft but firm and Viggo blinks once, twice, not daring to believe but when he sees tears in Sean's eyes, too and the little smile that tugs at the corners of his mouth he feels his lips twist into a smile as well, the tears falling freely at the same time. Sean leans in and brushes his lips over his cheeks and eyes, soft, featherlike and when Viggo turns up his face their lips meet. Carefully, gentle, probing and Sean's eyes circle around him and pull him close, and Viggo can taste the salt on his lips as well and then there's Sean's tongue nudging his lips apart and every coherent thought is a distant memory.
There's a knock on the door and Viggo doesn't care, nothing else matters than these lips and these hands and that man but Sean pulls back and rests his forehead against Viggo's, smiling and brushing some stray strands of hair behind his ears. Viggo groans. "Just ignore it."
But Sean shakes his head. "I don't want four hobbits to be storming through your flowerbeds and cheering us on through the window."
Viggo sighs. "You may have a point there."
Blonde locks and that smile, that smile that has never hurt as much before.
"Hi." She steps closer and places her lips on his in a quick kiss, slightly too long to be just friendly and Viggo can't pull back, his body refusing to move. He feels Sean's eyes burn into his back and just wants to cry out in pain.
"I thought maybe you'd want to dine with me?" she asks with a smile, unaware of the damage done and holds up a bag of groceries.
Finally he finds his voice and moves to the side, so she can look past him to where Sean's standing.
"Sean's back" is all he manages to say.
Her smile widens and she steps past him into the hallway and again he can't move, can't turn around, can't see the pain in Sean's eyes.
"Hi Sean, it's good to see you" he hears her say.
"You, too." His voice is calm, too calm.
"How was your flight?"
"A nightmare" Sean sighs and Viggo mentally whacks himself for not being as considerate. Of course.
"Do you have any plans I'm interrupting?" she asks and Viggo turns around. Their eyes meet and for split second Sean let's his guard slip and Viggo's stomach turns at the pain his eyes display but then the mask is firmly back in place and he turns to Miranda with a smile
"No. I was just on my way home. It's been a long day. He's all yours. You two have a nice evening."
Then he steps past Viggo and Viggo doesn't want anything more than to reach out for him, to wrap him into his arms and explain. Explain that she's not what matters.
There's no expression whatsoever in Sean's eyes when he looks at him. "I'll see you."
Then there's only his back as he walks away over the lawn and Viggo notices he didn't know shoulders could cry.
(6) Hurt
He emerges from the trailer to get his sword that he's left in the car and walks headfirst into Sean. Their eyes meet for a moment and the crystal clear mirror image of his own pain in the features he loves so much takes his breath away. Then Sean just steps aside and is gone without as much as a second look and Viggo wonders if it's going to be like this, just looks, looks that hurt like hits, just pain and no words. No words at all.
Orlando crouches down next to him when he adjusts his shoes.
"What happened?" he asks, clearly worried.
Viggo swallows, impatiently tearing at a knot that doesn't want to come apart before Orlando gently swats away his hands and unties it swiftly.
"What happened, Vig?" he repeats. "You look as if you haven't slept at all. Not in a good way, though."
"I messed it up" he says through gritted tears.
"What? How?" Orlando's voice is pure astonishment.
"I betrayed his trust."
"I don't understand."
Viggo looks up and into the elf's blue eyes. "I broke a promise I made. An important one."
"Then go make it right."
Viggo got up, brushing the dust off his trousers.
"I can't. Some things just can't be made right."
He reaches for the reins of the horse patiently waiting next to him and is in the saddle the next second, leaving Orlando's brow furrowed in concern.
It isn't getting better. It's getting worse. Sean's looking like as if he's not doing very well at sleeping either but does a hell of a job in avoiding him. Whenever someone yells 'cut' he's already on his way in another direction or joking with the hobbits or in conversation with Ian or John, and Viggo just stands there, disappointment and anger and frustration coloring his cheeks, and there barely is as much as a glance shared.
Finally he leaves a note at his mirror.
-Can we talk?-
When he returns to his trailer in the evening there's one waiting for him in return.
–There's nothing to talk about. You're a grown man, you do whatever you want.-
He walks over to his door and waits there in the dark, evening after evening, never managing to bring up the courage to knock. He has no right. He's had his chance and he's blown it and it's not fair to try and force Sean to listen to him.
(7) Gone
They're drenched and dirty and Viggo's cold to the bone and so tired he can't see straight anymore and Peter finally calls it a day and they walk back to where the choppers already are waiting, rotor blades cutting through the thick curtain of rain. Sean's two steps ahead of him, Andy at his side, both as tired as he is, he can see it in their slumping shoulders. All of them have stopped trying to dodge the rain hours ago and it's drumming upon their heads and running into their collars. He stares at the broad shoulders in front of him and wonders if he shouldn't give it another try. But he's too tired and it's just going to hurt even more and it's probably more than he can deal with today.
They walk over to the chopper at their left and Viggo isn't too sorry that it's already packed. He climbs into the second chopper and gratefully accepts the towel a dripping wet Ian hands him. The doors are slammed shut and he closes his eyes for a second. Then the chopper lifts, swaying in the wind and automatically his thoughts are with Sean again and he half wishes he was in the other chopper with him. If he wouldn't be able to calm him his presence might unsettle him as much that he'd be distracted he thinks, bitter.
His eyes follow the other chopper through the raging sky, it has lifted off before them and is already farther down the mountain side. He sees it sway violently and his heart skips a beat and then there's another heavy gust of wind and it goes into tailspin, its circles getting smaller and smaller, the wind angrier with the second, tossing it around like a ball. And then the green tree tops of the steep hilltop swallow it and it's gone. He can't but stare out of the window, his thoughts spiraling out of control. At the border of his conscious he hears their pilot call for his colleague. "Zealand Star- come in--- Zealand Star- can you here me? Ted?" But there's just the static and the sound of the rain and wind and the panic in the pilot's voice when he starts all over, calling into the roar of the unleashed sky around them. They are loosing height now and Viggo tries to keep his eyes fixed on the spot where the chopper has vanished but everything is zooming in and out of focus and the contours are blurring when he suddenly feels Ian's hand on his shoulder, almost bruising in it's intensity and then he sees what Ian has seen: A thin line of smoke emerging between the three tops, engaging in a short battle with the rain before it vanishes. The pilot's voice wavers and then falls silent and the trees lie still as if nothing has disturbed them.
(8) Done waiting
He's cold and tired and every muscle in his body is sore and all he cares for is a hot shower, a glass of brandy and his bed.
The faces around them were ashen when the emerged from the chopper of the air rescue services and where Peter's embrace almost had choked him John's almost had caused multiple rib fractures, to judge from the pain at least. He was dizzy and felt drained and it hasn't been easy to convince the doctor to let him go home. Finally she's agreed though, yet telling him she didn't like it. In his hand she's placed a couple of mild sedatives. To help him sleep. He's become that used to sleep eluding him that he's almost asked if she doesn't have anything to dull the constant pain in his chest. But there are no pills against heartache, he knows from experience.
He walks over to the parking lot where David ushers him into his car. He doesn't have it in him to ask where Viggo is, it doesn't matter anyway, not anymore. He sighs, watching the rain cascade down the windshield. Maybe the sedatives aren't too bad an idea after all.
David hasn't said a word since they have left he notices through the fog of tiredness enveloping his brain and when he looks at him there are tears in his eyes. Sean has to swallow down the lump in his throat before he says: "We're all fine, David."
David nods and swallows, his eyes firmly fixed on the road.
"I know. But it'll take a few hours until the shock wears off."
Yeah, Sean thinks, probably not just a few hours. Briefly he wonders if there are ships going from New Zealand to London on a regular basis and if he would have to share them with apples and sheep before his eyes drift shut
A flock of shaken looking hobbits and a disheveled elf are waiting for him in their trailer, and involuntarily his eyes scan the room for Viggo, in vain, and then there's another round of hugs, and he can't look into their eyes, there are too many tears and the shock's still too fresh, it's not going to take much to reduce him to a sobbing bundle and he'd prefer if he was alone when that happens. Gratefully he accepts a huge mug Orlando hands him, a mug of something hot with something alcoholic inside and lets himself be pushed onto the couch. A blanket is being wrapped around his shoulders and Elijah is plastered to his side, almost in his lap actually, and any other day he would bother and move him but for now he doesn't care. It would be slightly comforting, actually if the kid didn't look that scared.
The silence is hanging heavy above their heads before Dom finally tries to ease the tension:
"We thought we'd have one hell of a dead Boromir to shoot with" he says.
"I'm sorry to disappoint you" Sean answers without a second thought, thankful for the opportunity to make clear that he's fine and that it's okay to joke about it.
"If you absolutely need me dead to improve you're acting performance you'll have to kill me yourself" he says, winking at Dom who snorts in mock indignance.
"I take it your strange sense of humour wasn't damaged in the crash" he mutters.
"Sorry to disappoint you in that respect, too."
The faces around them are gradually brightening and even Elijah is sporting something similar to a smile. There's a mischievous twinkle in Billy's eyes and he nudges Dom with his elbow.
"Oh, stuff it, you're just pissed off that Sean's now the one with the real near-death experience, your splinter is a fleabite compared to that."
They all start laughing, even Dom and the tension is being lifted a good part of the way when Karl opens the door and steps into the room, his expression grave. He shrugs out of his dripping jacket and searches Sean's eyes. He nods, a tiny smile appearing around his lips and for Sean there are no more words necessary.
He settles down next to Billy who immediately asks:
"Have you heard anything from Viggo?"
Karl shakes his head. "No. Peter says they're going to send out a search party if he's not back within two hours."
"What about Viggo?" Sean asks, his breath hitching in his throat. Karl and Orlando share a quick look, clearly uncomfortable.
"He's---" Orlando starts hesitantly but Elijah blurts out:
"He was all pale and silent and then he just stormed off into the rain."
"Yeah" Dom adds. "It was-spooky. He was completely-"
A stern look from Orlando causes him to stop.
"What?" he asks "Why can't I-"
"Just because, Dom, shut up" Karl sighs. Orlando looks up at Sean, his eyes darker than usually.
"Thing is, he probably doesn't know yet that you guys are okay" he says, quietly.
Sean's head starts swimming. The room vanishes for a second before zooming back in, but somewhat distorted. But something else is missing and then he realises, everything's silent, his friends' mouths are moving but he's not hearing anything, his blood drumming in his ears, his heart pounding in his chest, and the panic that hits him with full force makes him feel nauseated and he breaks into a slight sweat. His mind is racing but he can't form a clear thought and then there's a gentle pressure on his arm and he manages to force the room back into focus and finds Orlando's eyes still fixed upon him.
"You okay?" he hears him ask, and he nods, relieved.
Everybody looks uncomfortable again, the concern and worry creeping back into the room. It's not a good day for Middle earth.
"Do you want us to leave?" Elijah asks. "You look terrible. Maybe you just want to try and sleep" he adds with a small smile.
Sean feels himself nod. "Yeah, maybe that's a good idea."
They say their goodnights and troop out through the door. "I'll call if I hear anything" Karl says and he and Orlando both nod. "Thanks" he hears Orlando say. Then the door closes and it's just the two of them left.
"What happened?" he asks, almost breathless, his voice hoarse.
Orlando shakes his head. "He was-I don't know. He seemed-I've never seen anything like that before. He didn't say a word. He just looked- hollow, I guess. And in the commotion he was gone before anyone noticed. Aragon gear and everything. Apparently just walked out into the rain."
Sean nods and sighs, suddenly feeling twice as tired. If that's even possible. When he looks up into Orlando's eyes he sees an almost panicky expression spreading there, now unchecked as his friends are gone.
"You're worried" Sean says quietly.
Orlando bites his lip. "Yeah. I know, it sounds silly-but you didn't see his expression-he-you mean so much to him. I just-"
He swallows and casts down his eyes and Sean, too, can feel the contained tears starting to surface but he wills them away. He swallows down a snarky comment about just how much Viggo cares about him apparently and tries to pull himself together. Tears aren't what Orlando can handle right now. He brings up his last ounces of willpower and strength and reaches out for Orlando's shoulder.
"Don't worry, I'm sure he's fine" he says, as confident as he can.
"But what if-"
Sean shakes his head. "He's grieving. That's terrible because there's no reason but he probably just needs time. The rain and the night will drive him back home sooner or later."
Orlando doesn't look as if he's convinced but at least he's a little calmer now. He sighs.
"Maybe we'd better try and get some sleep."
Sean nods. "Yeah. Or try to at least."
There's a sympathetic little smile on Orlando's face and he nods. "Just tell me if you need anything. Even if it's just company to sit through a sleepless night" he offers.
"Thanks, Orlando. I really appreciate it."
Orlando winks at him, grinning. "Hey, no need to get all warm and fuzzy, Bean. Don't get used to it, it's just because you almost died."
Sean nods, smiling. "Alright, understood."
There are hasty footsteps on the gravel and then the door's being shoved open and Viggo is standing there, panting, dripping wet, his hair plastered to his head, eyes wild. He quickly scans the room, freezing when his eyes fall on Sean. Closing his eyes for a moment he exhales shakily, his shoulders slumping.
Sean has risen from his seat, his eyes glued to Viggo and Orlando somehow manages to pull an elvish stunt and disappears without making a sound.
When Viggo opens his eyes they just stare at each other for a long moment, both trying to exert something that resembles control over their feelings. Viggo's eyes are burning into his while he tries to convince himself that what he seeing is true, that Sean's unharmed and Sean can feel the tears he's tried to hold back the whole evening shoot into his eyes but before they can fall from there's a broken sob escaping Viggo's lips and he launches himself at Sean, grabs his shirt and drags him into a hug that makes John's look like the pet of a child's hand.
He's shaking with violent sobs and Sean just holds him, his own tears mingling with the rain's wetness in Viggo's hair.
"I'm still here, Vig, I'm okay" he whispers.
"I thought you-"
"It's alright, I'm not. I'm okay" he says, all gentle reassurance.
Viggo squeezes him tightly then pulls back slightly to look at Sean but without letting go of him. His eyes are bloodshot and tears are still clouding them. He's silent for a moment before the words he's been holding back for long start tumbling from his lips:
"I'm so sorry, Sean, I so sorry I didn't-"
But Sean just smiles through his tears and shakes his head.
"Don't" he says softly. And adds: "There's no need to explain. I can see it in your eyes."
Viggo blinks in astonishment, once, twice, before his face twists into an almost manic grin, his eyes twinkling with joy and relief, and he seals his lips over Sean's in a kiss that's almost bruising in its ferocity and leaves both of them panting and trembling in each others arms. Viggo smiles and runs his hands through Sean's hair and down his cheeks and gently traces his cheekbone, the one without the band-aid. He leans his forehead against Sean's and his voice is soft when he whispers:
"I'm so sorry I've kept you waiting."
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no subject
Date: 2009-07-20 09:50 pm (UTC)watching the reflections of the fire in Sean's eyes
tries to grab one of the thoughts speeding through his brain
"It's different without you. You're missing here."
"We thought we'd have one hell of a dead Boromir to shoot with"
oh goodness, this is so romantic, it's almost like a fairy tale. i didn't see the helicopter accident coming at all and i was definitely hoping for a very happy ending! this fic, and the men you've drawn, are lovely and gentle and very heart-warming. thank you so much!
no subject
Date: 2009-08-07 10:43 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-07-21 08:14 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-08-07 10:44 am (UTC)Off the beaten track
Date: 2009-07-21 02:15 pm (UTC)Re: Off the beaten track
Date: 2009-08-07 10:48 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-07-21 04:10 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-08-07 10:50 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-07-22 11:00 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-08-07 10:55 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-07-24 06:07 pm (UTC)Lots to enjoy here, but this particularly tickled me:
Briefly he wonders if there are ships going from New Zealand to London on a regular basis and if he would have to share them with apples and sheep before his eyes drift shut
no subject
Date: 2009-08-07 10:56 am (UTC)Thanks for reading and commenting and than you for picking up on the apple and sheep ships, that was my personal favorite bit of the story ;)