Forever Mine, Forever Young
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Lord of the Rings Movies › General › Lord of the Ring Stars
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
5
Views:
1,413
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5
Recommended:
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Currently Reading:
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Category:
Lord of the Rings Movies › General › Lord of the Ring Stars
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
5
Views:
1,413
Reviews:
5
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Disclaimer:
This is work of fiction! I do not know the celebrity(ies) I am writing about, and I do not profit from these writings.
Chapter 4.
Thanks to Leannan and to others who pointed out the problems with clarity in the previous chapter. Please let me know if I start to babble again, or just reel me gently back in if I'm wandering too far away from what little plot there is. Any feedback at all, including questions and constructive criticism, is always welcome :-)
______________________________________________________
Chapter 4.
Viggo was waiting for Orli on the front steps when he got home. And with one look at Viggo’s cold eyes and tight jaw, Orli’s pleasant mood fled.
Something had happened, and *oh god please,* he hoped it wasn’t, couldn’t be, about that woman.
Lord knows that she had threatened him enough, but she couldn‘t possibly have come all the way to New Zealand. He was safe here. He had to be.
“ ‘S matter, Vig?” He asked, avoiding the older man’s eyes.
Viggo didn’t mince words or dance around the issue. It was too big for that. “There’s someone inside to see you.”
“Shit.” So much for safe, she must have found him. Persistent little bint. He considered running. But where? To whom? The only person who really mattered was sitting in front of him.
“Nadia?” He asked. It was, perhaps, a redundant question.
Viggo nodded. “You have a problem don’t you, Orli. And you can’t run away from it anymore.”
Orli put his bag down, and after a moment consideration, he sat down on top of it. “Not going anywhere.”
“Uh huh. And when, exactly, were you going to tell me about Nadia?” The way Viggo said her name sent chills down Orli’s spine.
Honesty, he decided, was going to be his best policy. “I wasn’t.”
Viggo stood up then, and Orli could see the strain that had been placed on him; he was near the breaking point. “Not going to tell me,” he muttered, moving to loom over Orli. “Because you were ignoring it? Because you were planning on leaving me? Or was it because you are too much of a goddamn*child* to admit to me that you got some girl knocked up the first time I let you out of my sight?” He grabbed Orli’s shirt and yanked him to his feet. “She’s everything I’m not, isn’t she. Small, compliant, worshipful, young, and female. Is that what you want? Stupid question. It‘s obviously what you wanted, ‘cause it‘s what you fuckin‘ had. You cunt.” Viggo spat the last word and raised his hand.
Orli stayed very still; his heart was beating too fast, and his limbs were beginning to shake, but his eyes stayed fixed on Viggo’s hand. Would the older man hit him? Would he care if he did?
The blow never fell; instead, Viggo gave him a shove and he fell backward over his bag and sprawled across the gravel of the drive. His hands burned from catching himself, and his back ached from twisting as he fell, but he didn’t make a sound. He just waited.
Viggo made no move to help him get up, but he did sit back down on the porch with his head in his hands.
After some edgy moments, the most intense of his life, Orli scrambled to his feet and decided to chance moving closer. He wanted to be near Viggo, no matter what the risk.
“I’ll tell you what happened, Vig. If you want to hear it.”
Nothing.
“Umm.” Orli was unsure of how to tell this story, where to start, and how to end it. How to make Viggo understand-- how to make the older man see that he had hidden the whole, sordid thing because he was afraid of ruining everything. Literally everything.
*Start at the beginning*, he thought. “I felt so adrift when I went home.” Not bad. “Faced with London, and my friends, and my family, this all seemed like a dream. You,” he touched Viggo tentatively and still received no response, “seemed like a dream.” He stretched his back before continuing, “I was partying every night, drinking, getting high--” Not event that admission provoked a reaction. “Just to prove that I was still *me*, I guess, because I felt like everything I was, was bound up with you suddenly. And then one night I was testing my limits and I went too far. What you said about Nadia was true. She’s everything you’re not. She’s a woman, she’s young, and she’s manipulative and hard-hearted.”
Finally, Viggo turned red-rimmed eyes to look at him.
Orli stumbled on, feeling hot, sticky and ugly. “It was only one night, and a night that I don’t even bloody remember.” Viggo snorted. “It’s true, Vig. And although it bothered me, I was going to tell you all about it.”
“But it’s more complicated than that, isn’t it?” Viggo sounded defeated.
“Yeah.” Orli reached and arm around the other man and was encouraged that he didn’t pull away. “I thought it was all over, obviously. But after she found out she was pregnant, she tried her damndest to find me . . .” This was the hard part.
“And then what?”
“Then she began calling and,” he took a deep breath, “asking for money.”
Viggo blinked. “She’s blackmailing you?”
Orli shut his eyes; it felt good to let it go. It had been eating at him for so long. “Yes. She wants money for an abortion, and once she figured out what I was doing down here, with the movie, and with you-- I don’t know how she knows that-- she started asking for money to keep quiet about the whole damned thing.”
“Have you been paying her?” Viggo rested a hand on Orli’s leg. He sounded slightly less angry, but no more understanding.
Orli made a small, contented noise at the feel of Viggo’s hand on him, and murmured, “I’ve been giving her what I can. But it’s apparently not enough, because now she’s here. And, oh god, Vig, she could destroy so much . . .”
And then Viggo said what Orli had been wanting him to, counting on him to. “I’ll take care of it.”
“Oh g Orl Orli slouched against Viggo in utter relief, and kissed the older man lightly on the neck. There was one other thing, a not-so-small thing, but it could wait.
Viggo eased Orli out of his arms and pushed him away. Firmly. “Let me go, Orli,” he muttered, but even as he said it, the door behind them opened.
It only took Nadia a minute to understand what she was seeing before she swore quietly in Russian and went back inside.
~*~
Viggo stood up to follow her in and Orli could tell that the older man intended to *take care of it* right then. Perhaps that other little thing wasn’t going to be able to wait.
He tugged at Viggo’s shirt to get the other man’s attention, “Vig, ah, there’s something else.”
“What?” Viggo looked decidedly impatient.
Christ. “It’s important.” And Orli stood up so that he was eye level with Viggo. “I don’t want her to have the abortion.”
Viggo’s eyes widened. “What are you saying, Orli?”
“I want her to have the baby, and I want to keep it.”
Orli saw Viggo’s expression go black, and he hurried on. “I think I’m gay, Vig. I mean the there’s one thing I’ve learned it’s that I don’t want really women anymore.” It was a stupid, meaningless thing to say, and Viggo’s expression of vague disbelief was disconcerting. “But I know that I want children,” Orli blundered on, “and this may be my only chance . . .” *our only chance,* he thought, but didn’t say it aloud.
He had been bing,ing, not expressing what he really wanted, and not saying what was necessary to salvage the situation. He always lost what little eloquence he had at the most important times.
What he wanted was a family, a real family. It was an admittedly sudden yearning, but he believed it was valid. From the first time that he had heard that he was going to be a father, he had felt a longing to hold his child in his armst het he didn’t want to do it alone; he didn’t want to do it without Viggo.
But looking into Viggo’s empty blue eyes, he realized that he wasn't capable of conveying those feelings convincingly to the angry older man.
~*~
Viggo had heard what Orli said--he’d heard everything that the boy had said-- but this was *Christ*, this was the worst.
This, this, *child* standing before him, all wide-eyes and hurt innocence, wanted a child of his own.
The child of a stranger.
The pain of Orli’s betrayal was only compounded by his desire to keep a reminder of that betrayal with him, forever.
‘This might be my only chance . .’ Orli had said.
Part of the sorrow of gay relationships, Viggo understood, was the difficulty in having and raising children. That Orli was willing to accept the child of a one-night stand because he felt that he might never have children any other way was simply devastating.
All he could do was shake himself free of Orli’s clinging grip, mentally and physically, and repeat himself. “I’ll take care of it.”
And he meant it. He must have failed the boy in some way for their lives to have come to this. So, he would do what he could, while he could, to see Orli safe and happy.
TBC
______________________________________________________
Chapter 4.
Viggo was waiting for Orli on the front steps when he got home. And with one look at Viggo’s cold eyes and tight jaw, Orli’s pleasant mood fled.
Something had happened, and *oh god please,* he hoped it wasn’t, couldn’t be, about that woman.
Lord knows that she had threatened him enough, but she couldn‘t possibly have come all the way to New Zealand. He was safe here. He had to be.
“ ‘S matter, Vig?” He asked, avoiding the older man’s eyes.
Viggo didn’t mince words or dance around the issue. It was too big for that. “There’s someone inside to see you.”
“Shit.” So much for safe, she must have found him. Persistent little bint. He considered running. But where? To whom? The only person who really mattered was sitting in front of him.
“Nadia?” He asked. It was, perhaps, a redundant question.
Viggo nodded. “You have a problem don’t you, Orli. And you can’t run away from it anymore.”
Orli put his bag down, and after a moment consideration, he sat down on top of it. “Not going anywhere.”
“Uh huh. And when, exactly, were you going to tell me about Nadia?” The way Viggo said her name sent chills down Orli’s spine.
Honesty, he decided, was going to be his best policy. “I wasn’t.”
Viggo stood up then, and Orli could see the strain that had been placed on him; he was near the breaking point. “Not going to tell me,” he muttered, moving to loom over Orli. “Because you were ignoring it? Because you were planning on leaving me? Or was it because you are too much of a goddamn*child* to admit to me that you got some girl knocked up the first time I let you out of my sight?” He grabbed Orli’s shirt and yanked him to his feet. “She’s everything I’m not, isn’t she. Small, compliant, worshipful, young, and female. Is that what you want? Stupid question. It‘s obviously what you wanted, ‘cause it‘s what you fuckin‘ had. You cunt.” Viggo spat the last word and raised his hand.
Orli stayed very still; his heart was beating too fast, and his limbs were beginning to shake, but his eyes stayed fixed on Viggo’s hand. Would the older man hit him? Would he care if he did?
The blow never fell; instead, Viggo gave him a shove and he fell backward over his bag and sprawled across the gravel of the drive. His hands burned from catching himself, and his back ached from twisting as he fell, but he didn’t make a sound. He just waited.
Viggo made no move to help him get up, but he did sit back down on the porch with his head in his hands.
After some edgy moments, the most intense of his life, Orli scrambled to his feet and decided to chance moving closer. He wanted to be near Viggo, no matter what the risk.
“I’ll tell you what happened, Vig. If you want to hear it.”
Nothing.
“Umm.” Orli was unsure of how to tell this story, where to start, and how to end it. How to make Viggo understand-- how to make the older man see that he had hidden the whole, sordid thing because he was afraid of ruining everything. Literally everything.
*Start at the beginning*, he thought. “I felt so adrift when I went home.” Not bad. “Faced with London, and my friends, and my family, this all seemed like a dream. You,” he touched Viggo tentatively and still received no response, “seemed like a dream.” He stretched his back before continuing, “I was partying every night, drinking, getting high--” Not event that admission provoked a reaction. “Just to prove that I was still *me*, I guess, because I felt like everything I was, was bound up with you suddenly. And then one night I was testing my limits and I went too far. What you said about Nadia was true. She’s everything you’re not. She’s a woman, she’s young, and she’s manipulative and hard-hearted.”
Finally, Viggo turned red-rimmed eyes to look at him.
Orli stumbled on, feeling hot, sticky and ugly. “It was only one night, and a night that I don’t even bloody remember.” Viggo snorted. “It’s true, Vig. And although it bothered me, I was going to tell you all about it.”
“But it’s more complicated than that, isn’t it?” Viggo sounded defeated.
“Yeah.” Orli reached and arm around the other man and was encouraged that he didn’t pull away. “I thought it was all over, obviously. But after she found out she was pregnant, she tried her damndest to find me . . .” This was the hard part.
“And then what?”
“Then she began calling and,” he took a deep breath, “asking for money.”
Viggo blinked. “She’s blackmailing you?”
Orli shut his eyes; it felt good to let it go. It had been eating at him for so long. “Yes. She wants money for an abortion, and once she figured out what I was doing down here, with the movie, and with you-- I don’t know how she knows that-- she started asking for money to keep quiet about the whole damned thing.”
“Have you been paying her?” Viggo rested a hand on Orli’s leg. He sounded slightly less angry, but no more understanding.
Orli made a small, contented noise at the feel of Viggo’s hand on him, and murmured, “I’ve been giving her what I can. But it’s apparently not enough, because now she’s here. And, oh god, Vig, she could destroy so much . . .”
And then Viggo said what Orli had been wanting him to, counting on him to. “I’ll take care of it.”
“Oh g Orl Orli slouched against Viggo in utter relief, and kissed the older man lightly on the neck. There was one other thing, a not-so-small thing, but it could wait.
Viggo eased Orli out of his arms and pushed him away. Firmly. “Let me go, Orli,” he muttered, but even as he said it, the door behind them opened.
It only took Nadia a minute to understand what she was seeing before she swore quietly in Russian and went back inside.
~*~
Viggo stood up to follow her in and Orli could tell that the older man intended to *take care of it* right then. Perhaps that other little thing wasn’t going to be able to wait.
He tugged at Viggo’s shirt to get the other man’s attention, “Vig, ah, there’s something else.”
“What?” Viggo looked decidedly impatient.
Christ. “It’s important.” And Orli stood up so that he was eye level with Viggo. “I don’t want her to have the abortion.”
Viggo’s eyes widened. “What are you saying, Orli?”
“I want her to have the baby, and I want to keep it.”
Orli saw Viggo’s expression go black, and he hurried on. “I think I’m gay, Vig. I mean the there’s one thing I’ve learned it’s that I don’t want really women anymore.” It was a stupid, meaningless thing to say, and Viggo’s expression of vague disbelief was disconcerting. “But I know that I want children,” Orli blundered on, “and this may be my only chance . . .” *our only chance,* he thought, but didn’t say it aloud.
He had been bing,ing, not expressing what he really wanted, and not saying what was necessary to salvage the situation. He always lost what little eloquence he had at the most important times.
What he wanted was a family, a real family. It was an admittedly sudden yearning, but he believed it was valid. From the first time that he had heard that he was going to be a father, he had felt a longing to hold his child in his armst het he didn’t want to do it alone; he didn’t want to do it without Viggo.
But looking into Viggo’s empty blue eyes, he realized that he wasn't capable of conveying those feelings convincingly to the angry older man.
~*~
Viggo had heard what Orli said--he’d heard everything that the boy had said-- but this was *Christ*, this was the worst.
This, this, *child* standing before him, all wide-eyes and hurt innocence, wanted a child of his own.
The child of a stranger.
The pain of Orli’s betrayal was only compounded by his desire to keep a reminder of that betrayal with him, forever.
‘This might be my only chance . .’ Orli had said.
Part of the sorrow of gay relationships, Viggo understood, was the difficulty in having and raising children. That Orli was willing to accept the child of a one-night stand because he felt that he might never have children any other way was simply devastating.
All he could do was shake himself free of Orli’s clinging grip, mentally and physically, and repeat himself. “I’ll take care of it.”
And he meant it. He must have failed the boy in some way for their lives to have come to this. So, he would do what he could, while he could, to see Orli safe and happy.
TBC