A Thorny Black Rose

“Hmph!” Shoving the alarm clock off the bedside table, as had become his custom, he slowly raised his head. //Ouch!// That really seemed to be the father of all hang-overs. Slowly he made his way to the kitchen, to mix himself something that might help. He groaned as he saw his reflection in the window. //Great. I look as though I’ve just risen from the dead.//
He frowned. //I’d better take a taxi today.//

He didn’t know how but somehow he managed to go through the shots without confusing his lines. At least till midday. During the lunch break he headed straight for the catering tent.
“Viggo! Over here! Come, sit with us!” He had barely entered it when Sean and Orli waved him over. “So” Orli grinned “how are you this morning?” “A little hung over but why are you asking?” “Oh well, Dom might have mentioned something yesterday…”
“And what did he mention?” “I’m not supposed to tell…” “But `supposed` does not mean that you aren’t going to tell, does it?” Viggo asked hopefully.
“Forget it Vig” Orlando shook his head “I wouldn’t want Dom to kill me because I ruined your surprise.” “Surprise?” asked Viggo slightly worried. “Yes, surprised. But there’s something else I’ve got to tell you.” Orlando exchanged glances with Sean and grinned smugly. “Spill it out elf-boy,” sighed Viggo “before you burst with excitement.”
“Do you remember the day you drove me to the set?” “Yes, that day had started as a nightmare.” “Do you still know what you told me?” “Orli?” Viggo sighed. “Yes?”
“If you’re done paraphrasing Arwen, could you just tell me what this is all about?”
“Of course!” Orlando nodded enthusiastically. “I did it!”
“You did what?” “I told him, you oaf!” “Told whom what?”
“Really Vig, aren’t you listening?” “I am listening, Orli but I’ve got a headache the size of Mount Doom.” “I told Sean.” “You told Sean what, Orli?”
“That I love him, of course. And he loves me back.” Announced Orlando, bouncing proudly.
“You love him? And he loves you back?” Orlando groaned exasperatedly.
“Viggo, would you please stop parroting every word I say?” “Parroting?”
“Yes Viggo, parroting. The thing you keep doing.” “Oh…”
finally realization dawned on him. He looked from Orlando to Sean and back again.
“You’re together?” Orlando shook his head in resignation.
“I think he’s hopeless, Sean.” “What a pity,” grinned Sean, eyeing his lover predatorily.
“maybe a demonstration would work with him?” “Sean?” “Yes, love?”
“I love the way your mind works….” Viggo just stared at the kissing couple in front of him.
//They’re… and I thought…// he groaned //Gods, what an idiot I have been! How could I not see it? But if they’re… then who is… Dom?!?//

“Cut! Viggo that was your line! What is the matter with you today?” Angrily Peter Jackson
towered in front of a very confused Viggo. “Was it? I’m sorry, PJ. I was… a little distracted, I guess.” “That was the 14th time in a row, Viggo!” Suddenly Peter’s expression changed from angry to worried. “Should we get you to a doctor? You know, if you get ill now…”
“No, honestly, I’m alright. Just a little hangover perhaps. Nothing sleep won’t cure.”
Peter nodded and a few instructions later yelled “Take 15! And… action!”

He barely had the patience to sit through the procedure of changing him back to his normal self. “Viggo?” Ian suddenly asked. “Yes?” snapped Viggo. “The more you scowl at the
make-up girls, the longer it’s going to take to get you out of that costume.”
Viggo rolled his eyes. “Thanks for pointing that out, oh mighty McGandalf!” he replied scathingly. “Something specific?” asked Ian, eyebrows almost disappearing into his hairline.
“Please stop doing a Hugo, Ian.” said Viggo. “What do you mean by `something specific`?” “Did something happen to upset you or do you just like being a bitch?”
Viggo stared, mouth agape. “I… no!” “Ah, good.” “What’s good about that?”
“I would have hated to think that you are always moody and unpredictable. So, what happened?” “Nothing. Everything. Hell, damned if I know!”
“Well, do us all a favour and get it settled, will you? You’re impossible to tolerate in that condition.” Viggo nodded dumbly. “I’ll try,” he whispered “I really will.”

Still fuming he exited the make-up trailer and turned left to the car park. “Ouch!” he groaned as he suddenly collided with something, no someone solid. “Karl! Sorry, I wasn’t looking…”
“Don’t bother.” Said Karl “It’s nothing.” “Look…” Viggo shuffled his feet nervously
“What Dom said yesterday… I didn’t mean to… I should never have… I mean… I’m sorry.”
“Are you?” “Yes, I should never have said that.” “Thank you.” Said Karl and smiled softly,
“It’s good to hear you say that.” //Why isn’t he angry?// thought Viggo panicking
//is this some sort of trap?//
“You see,” continued Karl “I’ve got to tell you something as well…” “What?!?....”
Viggo stared incredulously at the single black rose Karl offered him.
“You?!?” he croaked finally.
“I’m afraid so…” whispered Karl, his voice shaking.
“But… but why?”
Karl gulped and smiled sadly before answering. “I guess I learned to believe in love at first sight after all…” he offered shyly.
“You…” Viggo shook his head, suddenly noticing how close Karl was //and those lips…//.
He didn’t recall either of them moving but suddenly he was in Karl’s arms and Karl was kissing him and he never wanted to stop kissing again. “Karl…” he moaned, as his lover’s tongue sought entrance, their lips moving passionately against each other’s, desperate to please. He moaned again as his arousal pressed against Karl’s, their tongues duelling to gain some sort of control over the kiss. Karl’s scent enfolded him, drugging his senses and making him want even more. Viggo moaned in protest as the kiss ended and leaned into Karl’s arms, pulling him as close as he possibly could. “I love you.” He whispered without thinking.
Karl happily returned the embrace. “I love you too.”
Viggo looked up and stared at Karl, for the first time really seeing him, when he suddenly remembered. “I… sorry… I… I can’t” he stumbled, pushing Karl away “this is…
it can’t be that… I’m sorry.” He shook his head, staring at the floor.
“This shouldn’t have happened. I’m so sorry.” unable to think cly hly he turned and run,
never looking back.


//Stupid, stupid, stupid!// he thought staring at the flowers Karl had given him.
“Viggo, damn you! Open this door at once!” He had tried to ignore the pounding and knocking on the door but it was becoming increasingly difficult.
“Viggo Mortensen! Let me in! Now!” Finally Viggo got up and opened the door.
At oa fua fuming Dominic rushed inside. “Why? Why did you do that, Viggo? How can anyone be so bloody fucking stupid?” “Dom,” said Viggo quietly “I’m not in the mood for one of you games, so would you please tell me what this is about?”
“How could you kiss him like there’s gonna be no tomorrow and the just say `I’m sorry`
and run off? He loves you, you brainless idiot!”
“Wait… this is about… Karl?” “Of course it is!” yelled Dominic, hands gesturing angrily
“It always has been!” “But…” said Viggo confused “you gave me that flower yesterday…”
“Ofrse!rse! Hope! Hope that the two of you would finally manage to get things sorted out!
You were starting to get along so well!”
“Wait. Just wait a moment.” Viggo paused. “You” he said quietly “saw that Karl and I were finally talking to each other?” “Yes.”
“Then why for fuck’s sake did you tell him what I said about him on the phone?”
yelled Viggo. “To show you how wrong you had been you stupid git!”
“You knew. You knew all along.”
Sighing Dominic sat down on the sofa. “Yes, of course I did. I saw how Karl looked at you.
How hurt he was, when you kept insulting and ignoring him. I made him tell me. And I offered to help. How did you think could he always know where you were?”
“That first evening at your house,” Viggo suddenly remembered “you set me up!?!”
Dom had the decency to at least wince at that memory. “Yeah, yes I did. And I would do so again.” “I can’t believe this. I… just… can’t!” “Viggo” Dominic said calmly “sit down.”
Viggo settled himself on the sofa but kept fidgeting.
“Why you you run, Viggo? You really hurt him.”
“I didn’t mean to.” Whispered Viggo. “I really didn’t. It’s just that… I was scared. I still am.”
Dom frowned. “What scared you Vig?”
“After he kissed me… the way he held me… I just panicked.”
“Why Viggo? You still haven’t answered the question.”
“I almost felt the way I did when Exene accepted my proposal… longing to stay in that embrace… to never let go again… to wake beside him e mor morning…”
“Let me get this straight” said Dom “you ran because you wanted exactly what you knew that he wanted, too?”
“No! I mean… I guess yes… I did…”
“I can’t believe it!” Dom groaned “What a marvellous pair of fools you make! Please go and talk to him. He’s truly miserable.”
“I can’t.” whispered Viggo.
“Why for god’s sake?” “I don’t know how. I haven’t got the words to tell him.”
Frustrated Dom rolled his eyes. “Just what he said when I first asked him why he didn’t tell you.” “Is it?” “Yes and he found a way, so would you please do the same and think of something?”
//Wait, that’s it!// a sly smile spread across Viggo’s face. “Thanks Dommie, I believe I just found a way!” Grinning like an idiot he raced off into the garden.
“Well, seems like my job is done then.” Said Dominic to the now-empty room.

He stopped himself nervously, his fingers hovering just a few centimetres over the door bell.
//Of.. fuck..// he thought //I have to do this… but what if…// finally making his decision, Viggo pressed the button and rang. //Ohmygod, this is it!// came to his mind as he heard footsteps on the other side of the door.//
He smiled nervously as the door opened. Karl seemed shocked to see him but quickly forced his face into a mask of indifference. “Viggo. What do you want?”
Instead of answering Viggo offered a small, delicately shaped flower trl. rl.
Karl’s eyes widened.
“Do you know its meaning?” he asked shakily. Viggo nodded.
Smiling Karl took the flower and touched it gently to his lips.
“I accept.” He said.
“Jonquil,” recited Viggo “means love and affection returned.”

~the end~


This is it. I can't believe I've actually done it! *bounce* I never finished anything I wrote before!

BTW: In victorian england you accepted a flower (and its meaning) by touching it to your lips. To reject one you plucked off a petal and tossed it to the ground.