Chapter Text
“What do you mean ‘gone’?” Elijah asked after Peter Jackson made the announcement to the cast and crew. His blue eyes were huge and expressed intense concern.
Viggo, who’d known about the departure for some days now, glanced across to where Orlando stood. Whether because the young man was decked out as—and therefore currently channeling—Legolas, or because he also had known about the departure well ahead of time, he did not react to Peter’s words. Unless his lack of a reaction was indeed a reaction in and of itself.
Aside from Orlando, Dominic, Billy, and Viggo himself, no one else in the cast knew about Sean’s absence until this moment. As for the crew, only those who needed to know were informed ahead of time. There were confused glances and murmured questions.
“Sean’s taking a leave of absence,” Peter explained. “He had an emergency pop up that he needs to tend to in England. But no worries, we can film around him easily enough. He’ll be back in a couple of months. Now, let’s get started on our scenes for the day…”
As Peter’s voice droned on in the background, Orlando turned and faded away from the edge of the crowd.
Dominic caught Viggo’s eye. He’d obviously seen Orlando’s non-reaction to the announcement as well. The Brit raised his eyebrows at Viggo and tipped his head pointedly in Orlando’s direction.
Viggo nodded, then headed off to find Orlando.
He found him easily enough with the wig of long flaxen hair practically glowing in the sunlight. He’d wandered over to where the horses were grazing contentedly. Orlando looked up as Viggo approached.
“How’re you holding up?” Viggo asked, wishing there were some better way to ask.
Orlando gave a ghost of a smile. “It’s for the best,” he began, “that he’s gone for now. I know it is. But… there’s still a part of me that misses him. Or rather, a part of me that misses a part of him. The good part. That part needs help coming out again.”
Viggo shook his head, still faintly astonished. “I knew, of course, that there’s therapy for victims of abuse. But I’d never realized there was therapy for the abusers, too.”
Orlando nodded. “Yeah. I’d never really thought about it either. My therapist says it’s a good sign that he sought it out for himself, that a lot of the time, they’re court-ordered to get therapy. I think… I think he really wants to change.”
Viggo thought back to the morning of Sean’s flight to England. To his surprise, the other man had sought him out. Rage had surged through Viggo’s body, and it had been all that he could do not to punch him a good one in the jaw again… but then had come one of the most soul-wrenching, heart-breaking apologies he had ever witnessed in his life. Until then, Viggo had thought Orlando terribly naive for taking him at his word for his desire to change, to do better, but seeing Sean there before him, a man who had taken a hard look into his own character and found it lacking, Viggo also believed.
“Keep an eye on Orlando, would ye?” Sean had asked, breath hitching. Then he had stooped to pick up his luggage.
Viggo had stood at that spot long minutes after the other man had departed. He wasn’t sure he could ever think of Sean as a friend again, but he would love not to consider him an enemy.
“I think he wants to change, too,” Viggo replied at last. And since the topic had been broached, he ventured, “Are your sessions going well?”
A small smile. “Good days and bad. Still early yet. But I think I’m starting to understand why the good days are good and why the bad days are bad. It doesn’t prevent it, but… it helps. A little.”
They stood a moment, as Aragorn and Legolas, listening to the contented munching of the horses. The soft breeze lifted their manes and sent ripples dancing across the fields.
“What I have the most trouble with,” Orlando continued after a time, “is… the conflicting feelings? I loved him, I hated him. I wanted to be with him, I never wanted to see him again. He could be so gentle and warm, but…” The thought trailed off. Came back, with fresh purpose. “Should I have called the cops? Shouldn’t I? That still goes around in my head. All the time. He hurt me, but he was also hurt. His father…”
“His hurt is not an excuse, Orlando,” Viggo began.
Orlando chuckled wryly. “That’s what my therapist keeps drilling into me. ‘His past abuse is a reason, but it’s not an excuse,’” he parroted. “I suppose. Doesn’t make it easier, though.”
There was something wistful in Orlando’s tone. Something that concerned Viggo. He had to ask.
“When Sean comes back, do you…?” Viggo was unsure how to complete the question, and part of him regretted even saying that much, but god, how on his guard would he have to be when Sean returned?
“No,” Orlando replied with a comforting amount of finality. “I hope the best for him. I really do. But I’m done with him. I deserve better.”
Viggo felt a smile warming his face. “You do. And I’m very glad to hear you say that. I won’t lie, I’ve been worried about you.”
Another small smile, but bigger than the others. “Thank you. You…” Orlando paused, seemed to organize his words. “You… you’ve helped me a lot this past year. More than you know, probably.”
This surprised Viggo. “I spent so much time thinking about what I could’ve—what I should’ve done different… or sooner… or—“
Orlando shook his head, stopping Viggo’s words. “Trust me, I know that circular thinking. It doesn’t get you anywhere. And most importantly, it wasn’t your job. I… I had to open my own eyes, you know? You tried, and Dom tried, and Billy and… hell, pretty much everyone at one point or another tried, I think. I didn’t see it, though. Just thought they were telling me that I wasn’t good enough for Sean.”
Viggo’s chest clenched with pain. “Orlando…”
“No, it’s all right, mate. I… well, I was going to say ‘I know that’s not true now,’ but it’s still something I’m working on.”
To Viggo’s surprise, Orlando raised his blue Legolas eyes to meet his. He couldn’t remember the last time the young man had had the wherewithal to hold his gaze when it didn’t involve being Legolas and Aragorn in front of the cameras.
“You did the most to help get me there, Viggo. I… I’m sorry you got pulled into it the way you did. But the way you pulled me out of there, the way you reacted and the things you said that night… If I’d been left to my own devices, I probably would have found a way to fool myself that it’d been my fault somehow, or that it wouldn’t happen again, or… or something. Shit, I can’t start crying. Maggie’ll have to do my makeup again.” Orlando laughed, eyes sparkling with unshed tears. He sighed and sobered. “So yeah, I just wanted to say, even though there were a lot of people who tried something, you were the one who did something, Viggo. Thank you.”
Viggo wanted to say something, needed to say something, but his throat was tight and his lips would not cooperate. Instead, he stepped forward and embraced Orlando. Orlando seemed surprised at first, but then returned the hug tightly.
Orlando pushed through the filming schedule for that week. He could feel himself starting to fray around the edges. The effort of holding himself together emotionally was actually physically exhausting. And the more physically exhausted he became, the harder it was to hold himself together emotionally. So when Peter called an end of shooting for the week, Orlando went immediately to the trailer to get his costume off, then made straight for the apartment. He showered, then lay down to squeeze in a power nap before the Hobbits came home. They had talked about wanting to bring home pizza and inviting a couple of people over. He wanted to have enough energy to socialize with his friends.
He was in a sort of twilight sleep when he heard the others come into the apartment. While he didn’t fully fall asleep, the doze he managed did a lot to briefly recharge his batteries. He threw his clothes back on, then headed out to greet the voices filling the living room.
Liv looked over at his entrance, her face lit up in her usual bright smile. There was always a lightness on set when Liv Tyler was in New Zealand for filming. She’d spent the day at another location with the other unit, filming scenes with Hugo Weaving. She stepped forward and pulled Orlando into an embrace. “Hey, Orli!”
Orlando grinned, hugging her. “Stumble over your lines today? Miss your marks? Stand in Hugo’s light?”
She laughed, stepping back. “You know it.”
“Comin’ through!” Billy said, weaving through the group while holding a couple of pizza boxes aloft. “Dom’s righ’ behind me wi’ the booze.”
In addition to Orlando, Dominic, Elijah, and Billy, there was now Liv, Ian, Hugo, Sean Astin, and finally—walking through the door last—Viggo. On its own, their apartment would not have been able to comfortably accommodate the group, but the evening was pleasant and their backyard patio inviting. Billy and Dom set to work settling everyone in, Elijah opened the sliding glass door that led to the patio, and Orlando set plates and glasses out as well as more drink choices. Soon everyone was seated outside in the pleasant evening air, enjoying pizza and each other’s company while a little music played in the background.
When it grew dark enough that making out faces became more difficult, Elijah shot up from his seat. “Oh! I forgot! I left the lights up from Christmas. I thought they might come in handy.” He leaned inside the patio door and flicked a switch.
What looked like thousands of tiny white-sepia lights suddenly flashed into existence. The faces of those in attendance seemed to glow from within with a soft golden light.
Liv looked around in delight. “Good call, Eli! This is gorgeous.”
Elijah beamed as he returned to his seat. “Mostly we were just too lazy to take them down.”
“At least they’re not the colorful ones,” Sean Astin added. “These ones… they kinda work year round, don’t they?”
Orlando, feeling a sense of peace and contentment he had not felt in some time, looked around at his friends, cherished the smiles on their faces, and felt fully, for the first time, that he belonged.
"That looks nice on you."
Orlando looked to his right, where Viggo had pulled up a seat next to him. Unsure, he glanced down at his clothes. Just a t-shirt and jeans. Nothing special. He turned his gaze back on the other man. "What looks nice on me?"
"The smile."
Since it had been brought to his attention, Orlando realized he had indeed been smiling to himself. He shifted, wondering what else his face had been doing while he wasn't paying attention.
"Sorry, I didn't mean to make you self-conscious," Viggo added.
"It's okay." After a pause. "I'm glad you came tonight."
The two were sitting close together enough that they could speak in low voices but still hear each other over the background conversation and ambient music. Dom and Billy were having a tag-team conversation with Elijah, with Eli playing his usual role of not being quite sure what was going on but being a good sport about it anyway. Liv and Hugo seemed to be continuing a conversation they'd begun at some point when filming Rivendell scenes together. Ian listened politely while Sean Astin told him about why he had felt compelled to direct the helicopters when they filmed atop the mountains.
"That night, at your place..." Orlando shifted. There had been something he had needed to get off his chest for some time. "When I kissed you..." Now that he had begun this topic, he wanted to curl up and die. "I'm so sorry about that. The alcohol—"
Viggo held up a hand to stop Orlando's words. Orlando took a breath and listened.
"I turned you away," the older man continued, "but not for the reason you might think. You were in a bad headspace, which was certainly not helped by the alcohol. I didn't want to take advantage of you." He sighed. "I feel like I drove you out. That... maybe you wouldn't have gone with Sean if..." Another sigh, almost a growl. "I'm not sure what I'm trying to say. Just... I don't want you to feel that you did wrong, okay?"
Orlando blinked. "...Really?"
"Sure. To tell the truth, these past several months, I rather envied Sean a bit." His expression soured. "Not any more. I can't envy someone who throws away what... what he had. Love from a beautiful soul is hard to find."
Somewhere through Orlando's racing thoughts, he heard Ian asking Sean to "sit inside with me so I can rest my old bones on a proper cushion."
The evening strolled along peacefully into full night, allowing the fairy lights to shine without impediment to their subtle soft glory.
Though he occasionally was good-naturedly pulled like a swimmer caught in rip into others’ discussions, Orlando found himself spending most of the time peacefully wading in the tide pool that was conversation with Viggo.
“I’m goin’ t’ grab another slice,” Billy announced as he rose. “Anyone else want one?”
There were murmurs of no thank you . Dominic jumped up with an, “I’m coming with you!” and followed his friend back into the apartment.
Orlando watched the two step through the patio door, heard muffled conversation pick up anew from within as the pair joined Sean Astin and Ian. He caught Viggo’s eye while glancing toward the patio door and smiled. The smile felt shy to him. His cheeks had felt a little warm all evening. At some point, he couldn’t remember when, his right knee and Viggo’s left had come to rest against each other.
The two discussed scenes they’d shot that week, what new things they’d like to see in New Zealand, news from their respective homes. Viggo told him that he was toying with the idea of approaching a small local gallery to show some of his work for the proceeds to go to charity.
Orlando sat up. “That’d be amazing! I’d help you hang it!”
“Really? Do you have any experience hanging shows?”
“Well… no. But I can hammer where you tell me to.”
Viggo looked at him appraisingly. “You’d do that?”
“Yeah. I, um… I enjoy your company.” A change came over Orlando with that admission. A sense of relief commingled with a sense of standing on a narrow ledge. A sense of releasing a pressure he hadn’t known he’d been holding, but also a sense of a void waiting to be filled with… something. Acceptance? Rejection? A resolution of some kind.
“I appreciate that,” Viggo replied softly. “I enjoy your company, too.”
It dawned on Orlando that it had grown very quiet out on the patio. He looked around to find that at some point, Liv, Hugo, and Eli had also slipped back into the apartment.
The night slipped on, and other than an occasional popping out of heads to “check on you two,” Viggo seemed content to remain on the patio with Orlando, illuminated by the fairy lights and the glow of the apartment’s living room through the glass door. Gradually, so gradually, Orlando began to relax in Viggo’s presence. He had grown self-conscious when he realized they were alone—and he had a sneaking suspicion that his friends had planned that—but he also came to realize that he was nervous because this alone time with Viggo meant something to him. More than he wanted to admit to himself. Was he stupid for falling for another person? Would the feelings ever be reciprocated?
No, of course not. Get hold of yourself. You’re damaged goods. He’s seen what a mess you can be. He’s seen you hung up on another man. He’s seen—
“—thoughts?”
Orlando blinked. “Sorry?”
“Penny for your thoughts,” Viggo repeated. “You looked… really far away there. And sad.”
Orlando wasn’t sure how to respond to that. There was certainly no way he was going to spill what he’d just been thinking to the older man. Finally, he managed a cheeky smile. “Sorry, mate. Inflation. A penny’s not gonna cut it.”
Viggo smiled. With his lips. With his eyes. With his face. A small smile, but one that Orlando trusted.
“Something that age has given me,” Viggo said, “is the ability to be more direct than I might have been when I was younger.”
Whatever level of relaxation Orlando had managed melted away with those words. Where was this going? Was he about to be confronted with something painful?
Despite his claim of age allowing him to be more direct, Viggo still had to take a breath to steel himself. “I haven’t said anything for so long. So long. Because I had to get to know you, then you were with Sean… then you weren’t, but it wasn’t the right time.” A nervous—nervous, from Viggo?—chuckle. “It’s probably still not the right time, but… Heh, I guess I’m not as direct as I thought I’d be.”
“Whatever it is, Viggo, you can tell me. You know that.”
Viggo smiled. “Sometimes actions are better than words. Is there something here, Orlando?” He leaned forward, slowly closing the distance between them. His eyes were focused on something below Orlando’s gaze… on his lips. “I’ve felt it. Have you?”
Orlando felt the virginal blush spread up his skin again. His peripheral vision faded into meaningless noise as Viggo’s face jumped into sharp focus, because he had. He had felt it. Thought it had been only on his side. Thought he was stupid for ever thinking that maybe… maybe…
He leaned forward ever so slightly, waiting for Viggo to pull back with a laugh. Ha ha ha, you didn’t think I was serious, did you?
But Viggo didn't pull back. He didn't laugh. When Orlando leaned forward, Viggo accepted it for the cue it was and closed the distance.