Whisper In the Wind

Whisper in the Wind
Author: LadyofLegolas
Fandom: LotR-RPS
Pairing: Viggo/Orlando
Rating: NC-17; slash
Disclaimers: Just my imagination running wild. I don’t know them and as far as I know it never happened or will never happen. No claims and no money have been made. Only my wishful hopes, so don’t sue!
Summary: “ If you don’t love me baby- lie to me! ‘cause you’re the one thing I believe. Let it all fall down around us, if that’s what’s meant to be! Right now if you can’t love me baby-lie to me!” Bon Jovi
Feedback: Yes, please!
Author’s note: AU; slash; romance; angst; explicit sex between males.
If that is not your cup of tea or you’re underage, please, leave now! You have been warned, so all responsibility befalls the reader!
This is my first attempt at RPS and I owe my heartfelt gratitude to halfelflost for being my friend and my beta. I love you babe! All mistakes that remain are entirely mine!


Viggo slowly opened his eyes. It was still an hour ‘til dawn, but the artist couldn’t sleep any longer. It had been like this for a year and a half now. He woke up every morning just before the night began to fade.

Viggo let out a deep sigh and sat up in his bed. He listened in the dark as the rain softly washed the windows . After a few minutes the artist pushed back the covers and made his way to the bathroom.

Twenty minutes later the Dane was downstairs in his kitchen making coffee. Just as he opened the cabinet to get some cereal, the phone rang.

The artist glanced at time on his microwave; it was 4:50 am. After the fourth ring his answer machine picked up the call.

‘Vig? Are you sleeping, you wanker? Pick up the soddin’ phone, it’s me!’ said the familiar voice and the artist had to smile as he reached for the receiver.

‘Good morning to you too, Sean. What made you think that I would be sleeping at the crack of dawn?’ said the American.

‘Bloody hell, I forgot that you’re five hours behind my time! Sorry mate!’ hissed the Brit into the phone.

‘That’s all right Sean, I was already up. How are you doing man? Is everything OK? ‘ Viggo replied as he poured some coffee for himself and sat down at the table.

‘Yeah, mate everything’s fine. I’m calling to let you know that I’ll be in L.A. after tomorrow. Want to hook up and chat? ‘ asked his friend.

‘Of course I want to see you, you big oaf! I’ll pick you up at the airport. When does your plane land?’ asked Viggo with a happy grin on his face.

‘Around nine in the morning. But you don’t have to pick me up, mate. I’ll be so jet legged that I’ll sleep through half the day. How about if you come to the hotel at 6?’ asked the British actor.

‘Sean, I hope that was joke. You’re not going to stay in a hotel. My home is your home whenever you’re here. I thought that we established that a long time ago.’ scolded Viggo.

‘Thanks Vig. I would’ve hated to call the hotel back and tell them that I actually need the room.’ came the reply from the other end.

The Dane chuckled. ‘Cheeky bastard. I’ll make sure that your favorite pink blankie is freshly washed,’ added Viggo with a snort.

‘You bloody wanker! I know I’ll never hear the end of it! I’ll kick your arse for that as soon as I get there. By the way, what did you get for Orly?’ asked Sean.

Viggo’s heart skipped a beat. ‘What do you mean?’ asked the American, feeling panic rising from his guts.

‘For the wedding, you daft Ranger! But what am I talking about, you probably painted something beautiful for the happy couple. I can’t believe that our prince got hitched! I mean Kate looks like a very nice girl, but I always thought that it would take more time to tame that wild boy.’ laughed the Brit.

Viggo dropped his mug and the mix of shattered pieces of china and hot coffee hit the artist’s shin, piercing and burning his skin.

‘Vig? What was that? It sounded like you dropped something,’ inquired Sean.

The Dane didn’t hear his friend’s voice nor acknowledge the searing pain. Green eyes wide open, his throat suddenly closed in a silent cry that never left his lips, and the artist was frozen in shock. Viggo’s whole world had slipped out of focus. The pain in his chest made the Dane grip the phone with such force that the plastic handle cracked under the pressure.

‘Vig? What’s happening, mate? Are you all right?’ came the Brit’s worried voice from the other end.

Viggo tried to breathe and as he managed to force some air into his lungs a strangled sound escaped from between his lips. With great effort he choked down the scream that threatened to surface.

“Yeah, fine, Sean. I just dropped my cup,’ came the artist’s reply with a tone that even he didn’t recognized.

‘Bollocks! You didn’t know, did you, Vig? Bloody Hell! I’m going to skin the whelp alive! He didn’t even have the decency to tell you! There will be no wedding but a funeral when I get my hands on his neck!’ yelled the English man into the receiver.

‘Sean, no! It’s OK. He don’t owe me nothing. Maybe he was just too busy to mention it or maybe he thought that he wait for the right time’ replied the artist.

‘The right time?? And when would that be? After his honeymoon?’ bellowed the blonde actor in outrage.

Honeymoon. The word hit the Dane like a brick. Viggo swallowed hard. He desperately tried to keep himself from falling.

‘I’m so going to murder that little shite!’ raged on the English actor.

Viggo grabbed the edge of the table to steady himself.

‘Sean, please, it’s not a big deal, really. We kind of lost touch in the last few months and maybe that’s why he forget to mention it’ said the Dane with much difficulty, trying to sound “normal”.

‘Bloody Hell, Vig! Why the fuck are you defending the bastard? What kind of friend forgets to invite his best mate to his own bloody wedding?’ yelled Sean into the receiver.

Viggo squeezed his eyes shut and slowly counted to ten.
‘Sean. Just let it go. Orlando is a grown man, if he wants me there he will let me know’ tried to reason the Dane, but the words sounded fake to his own ears.

‘Vig, you haven’t answered to my question yet. Why are you defending him? Why aren’t you furious?’ asked the Brit in a quiet tone, sensing that he must have missed something.

“Because I love him so much that I would die with a song in my heart as he tears it from my chest” thought Viggo, but did not say it out loud.

‘I’m not defending him, Sean, just trying to give him the benefit of a doubt’ answered the actor.

‘For the love of GOD! How could I be so stupid? You are still in love with him!’ exclaimed suddenly the Englishman.
Viggo’s heart skipped a beat and his sun-kissed cheeks suddenly grew two shades paler.
‘What are you talking about, Sean?’ asked the poet with a cautious tone.

‘Mate, don’t even try that shite with me or I’ll beat you to a bloody pulp! Vig, I have eyes and we were close enough on a daily basis that I could be sure of what I saw in them. When you thought that no one is looking, you watched him like a drowning man watches the boat the he fell from’ came the quiet reply from the other end.

For a few moments no words were spoken between the two friends. Then Viggo let the first teardrop fall down on his cheek.

‘Yeah. I was drowning. And there is nothing or no one could save me then or could save me now’ murmured the artist into the receiver.

Sean was about to say something when one of his daughters rushed into his room, demanding immediate attention.

‘Vig, I have to go, mate. I’ll call you back later tonight, ok? ‘ said the Brit with a sincere apology.

‘Sure. Talk to you later’ responded the Dane and hung up the phone.

The first rays of the Sun painted the horizon on the Eastern sky bringing light and warmth to the world, but as the artist looked at the land through his falling tears his on world turned into darkness and ice.


To be continued…