Title: Lost Angels
Pairing: OB/VM
Series: none
Author: Pickle Pixie
E-Mail: picklepixie83@hotmail.com
Beta: Abbi. Thanks darling, you're a star!
Rating: r (I think?) for violence, language and adult themes, Orli
angst/pain
Feedback: yes please!
Disclaimer: SO not true. Never happened, and I'm very glad it didn't.
This all popped out of my bored little head. I don't know what these
guys do in their own time, and it's their business not mine. This is
FICTION! You no likey, you no ready. You know what, I'm just a liar.
Dedication: For my buddie Jaxie. I'd never have finished this without
you. I love you bumble! xXx
Feedback: I'm a feedback junkie, a constructive criticism slut.
Summary: Viggo says we're all angels who've lost our wings. In life
we try to find them. How will Orli find his?

Lost Angels

Part 1: 
Chapter 1.

"Wipeout."

"Nah, he's riding it out. He's been getting pretty damn good at
this!" Elijah's eyes seemed to grow impossibly wider as watched
Orlando teeter on the edge of his surfboard. He turned to grin at
Dominic sitting on the sand next to him, but was greeted with a
grimace.

"Like I said," Dom deadpanned, nodding to the surf. "Wipeout."

Elijah returned his gaze to the water, only to find that Orlando was
nowhere in sight.

"That one's going to leave a mark!" chuckled Billy as he made his way
back to them from the shore. He'd been matching Orlando wave for wave
for the last hour, but finally had to give in to his friend's
seemingly boundless energy on the grounds of sheer exhaustion. Both
he and Dominic loved it when Orlando wiped out. It reaffirmed his
humanity somehow, not always being the poised, elegant elf he
transformed into on set each day. When he tumbled arse over tits from
that surfboard it was classic Orli – thrill seeker and klutz
extraordinaire!

"Well that mark had better not be anywhere that Peter can see." Sean
reminded them. "He wants to do Legolas close up shots tomorrow.
Shouldn't he come in now anyway, those waves are getting rough. I
think a storm's on the way."

Sean and his daughter Alex had joined the boys on the beach today
while his wife Christine went shopping, as Alex needed some serious
sand castle therapy and quality time with her daddy. The Rings'
filming schedule had left both of them seriously lacking in
opportunities for mutual father-daughter adoration. Sean was
showering his little girl with attention, but still managed to take
up his affectionate `parenting' role with the others. Even Billy, who
was his own age, needed grounding when his mischievous side took over
in response to the others' contagious over excitement.

Five pairs of eyes continued to watch the waves, waiting to see
Orlando emerge with a huge goofy grin plastered all over his face.
Another 10 seconds passed, turning to 15… 30… one minute had passed
and still they could not see Orlando. Elijah sprang to his feet as he
saw Orlando's brightly coloured surfboard crash against the shore,
dragged further up the beach by the tide. The group raced over,
staring, horrified, at the sickening split across the brand new board.

"Orlando? ORLANDO!" The cries began in unison, becoming increasingly
panicked and high pitched. Alex tugged on her father's sleeve,
sobbing and asking where Orli had gone.

"Sssh munchkin, it's alright. He'll be back soon." Sean's efforts to
sooth his daughter failed to have any effect on a frantic Dominic and
Elijah. Billy simply stared open mouthed at the horizon, eyes darting
to and fro, searching for any sign of his friends' Mohawk hairstyle.

Just as Dom lost his patience and began to wade out into the water,
the sky darkened and a flash of electricity rent the air. The waves
began rising and thunder that seemed to come from the very ground
beneath their feet accompanied the driving rain that assaulted them,
stinging their eyes and drowning out their heart rending screams.

* * *

"Mr Wood please, if you don't calm down then I'm afraid I'll have to
ask you to step outside."

"But, I need to - I have to see him. Is he ok? What are you doing to
him? Is he awake? Wait, who the hell are you?"

"Lijah man, easy. Just let them take care of Orli"

Dominic had been attempting to compose a very tearful Elijah all the
way to the hospital from the beach. He'd been distraught ever since
he had found Orlando. The coastguard had told them they couldn't
search for him until the storm had tired itself out, the wind was
just too strong and the rain too heavy to send out any search parties
safely. They had no option but to wait. The look on the mans face was
one of pity, as if he'd seen this happen countless times with punk
kids getting too full of themselves and ending up dead, leaving guilt
ridden friends behind. He clearly didn't hold out much hope of
finding Orli, or at least not in one piece. Elijah's response had
been `Bollocks to that!' (having been around British swearing for too
long) and he had dashed back out into the storm, followed by Dominic
and Billy. Sean had stayed behind with Alex, politely asking said
arsehole coastguard if he could use the phone to call Peter.

It was after what felt like days of fruitless searching, when they
had all but given up from the cold, fatigue and the unbearable
heaviness at the realisation that they may never see Orlando again
that Elijah had sprinted away, yelling and crying. Orlando had been
washed up onto the beach, wetsuit ripped across the chest. He was
shaking uncontrollably and his lips and fingers had turned a deathly
shade of blue. When they called to him and shook him, he didn't
respond. It was as if he wasn't there.

That was how Dominic had found himself in this situation; prying
Elijah's fingers from the death grip he had on the collar of a very
P.O'd hospital security guard. If he hadn't been so worried about
Orli, the sight of lil' Lij trying to face off with a six foot
machine built like a brick shithouse would have reduced him to spasms
of laughter. He sent a prayer of thanks skyward as Peter Jackson
strode into the waiting room with Viggo and Ian following.

"What the hell happened? What have you been doing this time? I
thought I told you boys to stay away from this sort of thing. Surfing
during a tropical storm! Are you crazy?" Peter was furious. Elijah
had never seen him this angry.

"Peter listen, we didn't mean to…"

"Billy, I don't care about what you `meant' to do. The fact is you
all ignored me."

"Is that all you can think about, your fucking movie?! What about
Orli? He looked so sick, and he's been in there for an hour and no
one's told us anything, and, he …"

Elijah dissolved into a fresh bout of sobs. His breath hitched in his
throat as he tried to get the words out. Ian attempted to calm him,
giving Dominic a much needed respite from caring from him. He closed
his eyes and took a long, steadying breath.

Dominic hadn't had time to fully comprehend what had happened that
day, that `just another Sunday' they had eagerly anticipated wasting
in each others' company. Those were the best kind of days. But it had
all gone so horribly wrong.

Ian soothed Elijah, rubbing circles on his back and calming him to
small mutters and whimpers before turning to Billy to ask what
exactly had happened. Dom opened his eyes to see Orlando's doctor
coming towards them. He said another prayer, hoping to God that their
luck in finding Orli hadn't run out.

"How is he?" This came from Viggo. It was the first time he'd spoken
since getting to the hospital.

"Are you family sir?"

"No, but we're his friends. He doesn't have any family here. We're
kind of an adopted family."

"I'm afraid I can only divulge confidential information to family or
spouses …"

"What? Just tell us what's wrong with him! His family's on the other
side of the world!" Billy was starting to panic now. It must be bad
if the doctor wouldn't talk.

"What I was about to say however, is that you can ask Orlando
yourselves. He's awake and asking to see some, uh `hobbits'? I hope
that makes sense to you because otherwise he must have hit his head
harder than we thought."

* * *

"Please Fran, stop fussing. I'm fine, really I am. I just want to go
home and sleep in my own bed."

"In your own bed Orli? That'd be a first! Ouch! What was that for?"
Billy rubbed the back of his head where Fran Walsh had just landed a
slap.

"I will not have those sorts of vulgar suggestions in my house, Billy
Boyd. I would appreciate it if you kept your thoughts to yourself.
Orlando does not need upsetting in his condition." Fran returned to
plumping Orlando's pillows like a mother hen on steroids.

"What do you mean `my condition'? I'm fine! Everyone say it with me
now, F.I.N.E!"

"I do not consider hypothermia and concussion as being `fine'. You
could have killed yourself!"

"Jesus! Don't you mean MILD hypothermia and SLIGHT concussion? Don't
have a cow over it!"

"Orlando! You have bruised ribs as well! Don't you care? Do you not
realise how reckless you can be?"

It wasn't only Fran who was finding Orlando's attitude to his
accident intensely frustrating. Since he had woken up in hospital he
had brushed his near death experience off as `no harm, no foul'.
Numerous people had tried to point out to him that `no harm' didn't
really apply in his case. Two nights in hospital and bruising Mike
Tyson would be proud of across his ribs where the surfboard broke
against him by the sheer force of the wave were testament to the fact
that yes, harm had clearly had a field day in the vicinity of Orlando
Bloom. Orlando just told them they needed to chill and drink some
coffee.

"Ah, come on Fran. I know you're just trying to help by letting me
stay here, and I appreciate it, but I just want to go home.
Pleeeaassssse?" Orlando turned big, brown, puppy dog eyes on Fran,
even sticking out his bottom lip ever so slightly and letting it
tremble.

"Oh you are the living end! Alright, you can go home!" Fran exhaled
loudly, but then her eyes softened. "You really are too charming for
your own good. That's going to get you into trouble one day. Well, at
least let me feed you before you go, I know how you boys eat."

* * *

Orlando slumped down on his sofa and sank back into the cushions. He
let his head fall back and closed his eyes with a contented
sigh. `Peace at last' he thought. He stayed there for a few minutes,
but soon felt himself drifting off to sleep. He hauled himself off
the sofa, hissing and closing in on himself slightly as his ribs
protested against the movement. Orlando smiled grimly. `I've had
worse' he laughed to himself.

He made his way through to the kitchen where he'd left his
painkillers. He filled a glass from the tap and picked up the bottle
of pills. He rattled it and looked at the dosage instructions on the
label. `Take two twice a day'. Orli shrugged and unscrewed the lid,
popping one in his mouth. He'd taken so many of these things before,
he knew what kind of zombie they turned him into. He laughed at the
notion of seeing Legolas on the screen stoned.

"Can't have elf boy arrested for operating a bow and arrow under the
influence, stinky humans'll never let me live it down."

Orlando walked back through his house towards his bedroom. One pill
would be enough to let him get some sleep. He could even get through
a day of shooting without any medication. It would be uncomfortable,
sure, but he'd rather be in pain than drugged. The pain reminded him
he was alive. And that was the doozy. He did all these crazy, life
threatening stunts in some relentless obsession with feeling as alive
as possible. He'd so very nearly been lost when he fell and broke his
back. Now he was driven to experience all that the world had to offer
while he still could. After all, if he did die tomorrow then he
wanted to feel he had been worth something. No one would miss him, so
he needed to have something to make the Big Guy upstairs sit up and
take notice of Orlando Bloom.

His sat gingerly on the side of his bed and swung his legs up onto
the soft mattress. Toeing off his shoes he turned carefully to flick
off the lamp. In the newly darkened room he noticed the blinking
light on the answer phone by his bed. He pressed the play button and
rested his head on the pillow to listen. It was his mother. Sentences
such as `Elijah called' and `What DO you think you were playing
at', `could have been killed', `do get some rest dear' and `be more
careful next time' were hurled at him from the little machine on the
bed stand. Orlando mock-groaned as he listened. Poor Mum, God love
her. `She would miss me, I suppose'.

Smiling to himself as he thought about his mother, he began to drift
off to sleep. But not before he registered another voice coming from
somewhere near his head that made a weird tingling sensation run
through his exhausted body. It was Viggo. He was saying something
deep about sunsets, and then calling him an idiot and laughing. That
guy was so random. Orlando wasn't sure what he said after that, and
he dozed off to sleep with Viggo's voice running around in his head.
The last thought he had before he surrendered to the dreams that
always sprang from his hyperactive imagination was `I wonder if Vig
would miss me?' That thought would prove to encompass all his dreams
for many nights to come.


Part 2: 
~Interlude 1~

*Orlando's POV*

"GET DOWN! I told all of you to get.the.FUCK.DOWN! NOW!"

So many noises. Too much noise. No, it wasn't noise, it was voices,
each one teeming with a different emotion. Shock, anger, disbelief,
pain, fear. My friends' – my family, afraid and in pain. That's when
my own pain hit me. WHAM, right in the chest, just like that wipeout.
My family was being threatened and it hurt. I couldn't move or
breathe. I could barely even see. Shapes, both familiar and
disturbing, whirled around me in a grotesque dance of confusion and
agony.

Then I felt myself being pulled into a crouching embrace, sheltered
from the dance. I could breathe again, air rushing into my lungs in
gulped, hurried breaths. The green eyes searching mine called out to
me, asking me if I was okay, telling me I was safe in those
arms. `I'll protect you' those eyes told me, and I believed them. As
long as I was with my family, I would be safe.

Bean was still holding me, pressing me against the wall
subconsciously, trying desperately to keep me as far away from the
danger as he possibly could. I saw Peter and Sean throwing up a
protective wall around Dom, Elijah and Billy. John had obediently
seated himself on the floor against the wall. I could tell he had
something truly profound and dignified on the end of his tongue, but
had decided it probably wouldn't improve matters any. Instead he
clutched the hand of a sobbing Liv.

I will never forget the sound of her breath hitching in her throat as
she fought with all she had to stay calm. It damn near broke my
heart. Then I saw Ian, looking for all fuck like Gandalf sensing the
Balrog. Fear, followed by a tragic recognition. I saw it in his eyes
as he made some kind of peace with himself and his own demons.

Then I finally met the eyes I had been searching for, and I realised
that they had been locked on me since the moment this nightmare
began. His soul was crying out to me, a thousand thoughts and
sensations winging from his heart to mine, the force of the emotion
almost physical in the way my chest ached and my eyes stung. I wanted
those arms around me, the ones that could be strong yet gentle at the
same time. Those arms had guided me home when I had strayed, held me
when I cried, embraced me when I laughed – and saved me when I fell.
Those arms had offered me a love that was unconditional; full of
promises for what life could be if I only asked for it. He had
offered me the world, and now more than ever I wanted to scream at
him Yes! Yes, I love you with everything that I am - I love you.

And in that moment, I had found my wings. Viggo had once told me that
we're all angels, lost angels searching for our wings. When we found
our wings we would fly; we would always fly until we reached heaven.
I never really knew what he had meant, but now I realised I had found
my wings. He was my wings, but now I might never be able to tell him.
This shouldn't be happening. All we had done was go to Peter and
Fran's place in LA to watch a provisional version of Two Towers, and
these bastards had invaded their home, a place we associated with
family and safety. It would never be that for any of us again. I was
thankful for small mercies, that not all the cast had been able to
make it to the screening. But the fellowship was here. My family was
here.

I was torn out of my reverie by a harsh voice with an accent I didn't
recognize. It was European, but it didn't sound anything like Atti. I
barely had time to register the thought about my best friend before
my attention turned back to our captor. I suddenly felt a surge of
incredible anger towards this man. He was threatening everything I
knew and held dear, my very existence was in the hands of a man who,
judging on the revolver in his hand, didn't care whether any of us
lived or died. I wondered if this was what hate was. I always
despised that word. It's always used so casually for such a strong
emotion. People use it without thinking about the real meaning. I had
never hated anyone, disliked plenty of people, even infuriated by
some. But I never hated anyone. Not even… No, I hadn't thought about
him for over two years, I wouldn't think about him now.

No, this wasn't hate. Now that I've found my wings, I don't think my
heart is capable of hate. But I sure didn't have to like the
muthafucka. Go figure, I won't use the word `hate', but I'll utter
expletives that would make a sailor blush. Fran once asked me if I
kissed my mother with that potty mouth. I looked back up at this man
I had decided not to hate. He wore a mask, but I could still see his
eyes. They were blue, but not the blue of Elijah's eyes, which always
told of innocent laughter bubbling under the surface. They were cold,
empty. They say that the eyes are the windows to the soul. That
thought scared me more than the gun in his hand. This man's soul was
empty, devoid of mercy, compassion or love. Devoid of life.

"Greetings movie goers. May I introduce myself, seeing as how we will
be spending some quality time together. My name is Dragos. It has
been brought to my attention that you people are responsible for a
rather popular film. I, and my friends, are simply here to ensure
that some of the profits of your little adventure through Middle
Earth are distributed fairly. By fairly I mean, of course, between
us."

Trying to focus on anything other than those eyes, I looked around
the room again. There were three other men in the room, all wearing
balaclava's and armed with either a knife or gun. One of them had a
long coil of rope slung over his shoulder. The door opened and
another two men walked in, one pushing Fran roughly into the room.
Her face was pale and she started to make her way to Peter's side,
before one of the men held her back.

"All clear?" barked Dragos. For my own ease I had decided to refer to
this guy as Fuckwit. The mind numbing fear I had felt only moments
ago was starting to wear away. Now I was becoming steadily pissed off.

"There's no one else in the house. All the entrances and exits are
secure."

"Excellent. Let the games begin."

Something in that sentence told me that Fuckwit was out to cause
trouble. Note to self: scared again.

"Listen mate," my gaze snapped back to where it had begun. Bean was
testing the waters, standing tentatively with his hands held out in a
gesture of calm. "I don't know what you're expecting to happen here,
but there's no way you're going to get any money out of this stunt."

The tension in the room was suffocating, I could feel myself being
crushed under its weight. All eyes were on Fuckwit, waiting for his
response. He looked at the ground and laughed. Just a short, harsh
sound really, there was no mirth in it. As he raised his gaze back to
Bean, he raised his gun with it... and smiled.

All I really remember are sensations. The feeling of defiance that
burst from me as I refused to let this happen. I would not let any of
my family die at this psycho's whim. From my position behind Bean, I
propelled myself forward into him, still half crouching. The gun went
off, and I felt myself fly backwards into the wall, my head impacting
with a sickening thud. As I staggered forward and fell to the ground,
I remember being glad I couldn't feel anything. `Had my fair share of
pain, thanks' I thought to myself.

Faces swam before my eyes. All of them beloved images that would be
etched on my soul forever. I think I was remembering instead of
seeing them, because Atti and Sam were there, my mum too.

So this was how it would end, the roller coaster ride that I called
life. My name is Orlando Bloom, and I'm dying. I only wish that I
could hold Viggo now, and comfort him the way he always had done with
me. Tell him I love him, and that I would wait for him. Until the end
of time, even if he never came, I would always wait.


Part 3:
Chapter 2

Thump, thump, thump.

`What's that? Oh, it's gone now.'

THUMP, THUMP, THUMP!

`What now? Can't a guy sleep?'

"ORLI?! Wake up!! Come on, we gotta go! OR-LAN-DO! Get your skinny
ass down to the door right now!"

Orlando shot to a sitting position. Big mistake. Bloody huge
mistake. His head swam and his ribs felt like they were trying to
burst out of his chest. Another knock at the door reminded him why
he was even awake. He could hear Liv cursing outside.

He forced his legs to carry him to the front door and opened it just
a crack, peering round and scrunching his eyes against the sunlight
pouring in. Liv was standing there with a huge smile on her face and
a grocery bag under her arm.

"So you're not dead then. You took a long time to answer the door
though. Still in bed at noon. What are we gonna do with you, huh?"
Liv invited herself in and began bustling around in the
kitchen. "Well, go jump in the shower then. We're gonna be late.
Pete's already pissy. If you show up half asleep and half way
through the reading then he'll have you by the short and curlies."

"Uh, you, uh, wha?"

Liv walked over and gave Orli a peck on the cheek.

"Let's take this slow, in words of few syllables so you'll be sure
to understand. Script - at - Peter's - one - hour - us - late - if -
you - no - shower - now."

"Oh funny. You're so bloody funny my sides are splitting. What's
with the shopping?"

"Fran asked me to bring this stuff round, she didn't think you'd be
up to shopping for a couple of days. Hey Orli, are you ok? You don't
seem yourself."

"Me? I'm as right as rain. Are you coming to Elijah's tonight?"

"Nope, I've got to film some stuff for flight to the ford. It needs
to be kinda twilighty when we do it, so the timeframe needs to be
spot on. You guys have fun though."

* * *

"Hey, come on! That's not fair!"

"Nobody said life was fair, Lijah. You gotta take the rough with the
smooth, roll with the punches."

"But it's my freakin' TV! It's my god damn VCR! We are not
watching `North'! I refuse to sit through you guys laughing at me
for the next two hours, and then live through it again at work
tomorrow!"

"All those in favour of watching Elijah and Bruce Willis making
complete tits of themselves in `North' say `aye'."

Dominic's request was met with a chorus of `aye' from around the
room. A devilish, gleeful grin lit up his face in response to his
triumph over an increasingly flustered Elijah.

"Motion carried." His voice oozed mischief. "Let the torment
commence!"

And with that he hit the play button on the remote control and
shuffled back into his seat. Elijah's shoulders sagged as he
accepted defeat. He dropped to the floor deadweight, his head in his
hands. As he watched Dominic's obvious joy at his humiliation, he
resolved to finally bring out the episode of `Hetty Wainthropp
Investigates' that he had stashed away for a special occasion. Oh
yeah, it was time to bring out the big guns.

As the film progressed, Dominic seemed to enjoy himself less and
less. Elijah should be squirming. He should be red in the face and
vowing vengeance. But he was sitting calmly, quite contented to
laugh along with the others at Bruce Willis' bunny suit and the
giant billboard of his own naked ass, even shouting `What's that got
to do with my crack?' after Billy begging him to. When Dominic
looked over to him he simply smiled sweetly and raised his eyebrows.

"Well, wasn't that a hoot," said Elijah sarcastically as the
finishing credits began to scroll across the screen. He looked
around the room. Billy was still grinning from ear to ear. Dominic
was regarding him with a tilted head and slightly narrowed eyes. He
was worried. Score. The rest of the group, Sean, Orlando, and Bean
just looked amused. Viggo walked back in from the kitchen. He'd only
recently arrived, so Elijah was spared one of his new found heroes
viewing the cinematic pearl that was `North'.

"But now gentlemen, for your delight and delectation, I present Mr.
Dominic Monaghan as `Geoffrey' in one of my favourite episodes of
the popular BBC show, `Hetty Wainthropp'!" Elijah pulled out a video
tape from the drawer in the entertainment unit, an evil glint
shining in his eyes.

"No, no Lij, you wouldn't." Dominic wasn't having fun anymore.

"Oh, I'm pretty sure he would!" Bean sat laughing in the corner,
taking a long swig from the bottle of beer Viggo had brought him
from the kitchen.

"Please Lij, I'm begging you. Don't show it. I ride a fucking moped
for Christ's sake!"

"Oh, I know. And I think it's only fair that the others' get to
enjoy it too!"

Both men moved at the same time, Dominic darting across the room to
block Elijah's path to the VCR. A hilarious game of Cat and Mouse
ensued, leaving both Dominic and Elijah breathless and at a
stalemate.

"Come on Billy," Lij gasped. "Help me. You wanna see this right?
Orli, you'll help me right?"

Orlando had been sitting in his chair watching his friends antics.
Usually he would have thrown himself in there ages ago, but his ribs
had been playing him up. It had been his first day back at work
since his `mishap' at the beach, and it had been *long*. All he
wanted to do was curl around himself in bed and cry. He was
shattered. Every bone in his body felt as though it had been
stretched, and they ached. The ache seemed to go deep.

Since thinking about his accident, he'd started to wonder about his
life. What he'd found here in New Zealand was different to what he'd
had at home. The whole experience was an adventure, and he had new
friends who accepted him for the complete enigma that he was, purely
because they were all maniacs themselves.

He had built something here, even though he'd tried desperately to
cling on to his `devil may care' attitude. He had friends he cared
about. Whether he liked it or not, he loved these crazy fucks. You
can't spend nine months of your life going through shooting schedule
hell with the same people and not develop a bond. It was weird for
all of them. None of them had experienced anything like the shooting
of Rings' before. He wanted to be with these people.

And that was why he was here in Elijah's sitting room, wearing a
mask of normalcy to try and keep them from finding out. Not just
about he pain he knew very well that he'd brought upon himself, but
from finding out that before today, he just hadn't cared. And now,
now he was scared to feel in case it was all torn away from him
again. A million different voices screamed at him, pulling him in
different directions.

"Nah, I think I'll sit this one out." Viggo turned questioning eyes
on Orlando as he spoke. Orlando turning down a playfight - weird.

"Ah, come on then," laughed Billy as he suddenly dove for Dominic.
The shock of the sudden attack hurled both Dominic and Billy
forward, right on top of Orlando. The weight crashing into his torso
was like a thousand wrecking balls all at once. He couldn't help the
cry that was torn from his throat. The weight on his chest
disappeared as quickly as it had assaulted him. Viggo had pulled
both Dom and Billy away from Orlando and was now kneeling in front
of him with his hands on Orli's shoulders, brow furrowed.

"Orli, are you okay? Jesus, I'm sorry, I didn't know you were still
in that much pain. Aren't the meds working?" Billy continued to
apologise and ask the same questions over and over again.

Why, thought Orli as he took short gasping breaths, do people always
ask if you're ok when you're clearly trying to keep from screaming
at the top of your lungs. It must be the most redundant question on
God's green earth. Steadying himself, Orlando rose shakily to his
feet, thankful that Viggo was still holding him and stopped him from
swaying.

"It's alright Bill, don't worry about it. You just shocked me,
that's all. I think I'm just gonna head home now. I'm …… tired." He
shot them all an apologetic grin and grabbed his coat. He pretty
much ran out of the door into the night air. As soon as he heard the
door click shut behind him he doubled over, wrapping his arms around
him.

"Fuck me," he gasped under his breath. Black spots danced in front
of his eyes and he clutched the wall beside him. He was about to sit
down to compose himself when he felt familiar hands back on his
shoulders.

"Not taking those painkillers then? I watched you on set today.
Those pills generally knock you out - I was on them last month. You
were far too coherent today to be on those things. So what, do you
like pain or are you just lazy?"

"Oh sod off, Viggo. Is it any of your business what I do with my
life? If I choose to put up with a little bit of pain rather than
walk around comatose then I bloody well will, so if you don't
mind...Shit." Orlando bit down on his lip as another wave of pain
passed through him, drawing blood as he did so. He turned away from
Viggo so that he wouldn't see the beginnings of the tears that were
prickling his eyes.

"Calm down Orlando, I'm only trying to help you. Look at the state
you're in. Let me get you home."

Reluctantly, Orlando nodded and allowed Viggo to help him get his
coat on. But he couldn't look at him. He could feel Viggo's eyes
searching out his, but he refused to meet his gaze for the entire
taxi ride to his apartment. He was ashamed of the fuss he'd made,
barrelling out of Elijah's place, getting angry with Viggo, and
then, like a complete fucking twat, nearly crying! Crying in front
of Viggo, for fuck's sake!

Only then did it occur to Orlando, as Viggo took his keys and opened
his front door, that he didn't know why he should be so bothered
about crying in front of Viggo. Vig was his friend, and friends
didn't mind when you cried. That's what friends were for, they never
judged you. All the guys had cried in front of each other before
now. Hell, he'd bawled his eyes out in front of Sean Bean himself
for God's sake! He looked at Viggo to see whether there was any
recrimination for his weakness. Viggo just looked right back at him,
and to Orlando it felt as if they were seeing each other for the
first time. He felt a shiver run through his body, from the ends of
his hair to the tips of his fingers and toes. He felt like a child
on Christmas Eve, the anticipation of what would happen next almost
suffocating.

"So, you are in there then. Let's get you inside and dosed up.
You'll feel much better in the morning."

Yeah, right.

Viggo walked into the kitchen, leaving Orlando alone in the semi
darkness of the hallway. The only light came from the kitchen where
Viggo had flicked the light switch. Normally Orlando loved to get
home. It was his space, where he could just be him. He could be with
himself. He didn't pretend around his friends, he was the fun loving
guy they saw each day. But sometimes he wished people didn't expect
that of him. He wished that if he wanted to be quiet sometimes, then
that would be ok. Now though, he wished he could be anywhere else.
Viggo was in his home, where he was vulnerable. He couldn't keep
this up much more, the day had just been too long. He wanted to let
go, just give in to the hurt.

Then Viggo reappeared in the doorway carrying Orli's painkillers and
a glass of water. All he did was smile at Orlando, and the younger
man finally broke before his very eyes. His shoulders began to
tremble and a single tear ran down his face before he crumpled to
the ground, hugging his knees against him. He rocked back and forth
so slowly that Viggo barely registered the movement in the dim light.

Setting down the glass and bottle of pills on the coffee table,
Viggo slowly approached the sobbing form on the ground in front of
him. He had known that there was something wrong with Orlando all
day, and he fully intended to find out what it was. The hobbits had
been on far too much of a high this evening to notice, and Viggo had
had a suspicion that Orlando would need some comfort now, not later.

He didn't know what it was about this boy, no - this man in front of
him. Seeing him in pain like this was almost too much for Viggo to
bear. It pulled at something deep inside of him that he hadn't known
was there before. He had always known that Orlando was special. No
one could fail to be drawn in by that infectious love of life, or
not adore the unique mischievous innocence he managed to maintain in
spite of his sudden exposure to stardom. But now, seeing him for the
first time in such a hopeless state, a little bit of him died
because he hadn't been able to protect Orlando from whatever had
made him cry.

"Orlando, please sweetheart. Don't cry. Whatever it is, we can fix
it. I'll help you, I promise." And as Orli raised his deep,
chocolate eyes to look at him, Viggo knew that it was the truth. He
would always do anything to keep this angel safe, to keep him warm
and content. He reached forward to wipe away the tear threatening to
fall, but resisted the urge to caress the face looking at him with
such awe. It heartened Viggo to see that look in Orlando's eyes. It
spoke to him of a hope for the future that didn't recall ever seeing
there before.

But as soon as it appeared, it was gone. Orlando shook himself and
stood again, snuffling and wiping his face on the back of his
sleeve. He cleared his throat loudly.

"I'm sorry Vig, I didn't mean to. Please don't tell anyone I cried.
I'm tired, I think I'll go to bed now. Do you mind letting yourself
out?" As soon as he said it, he regretted it. Viggo had been kind to
him and, if he were really honest with himself, he didn't want his
friend to go.

"You have nothing to be sorry for Orlando. Sleep will do you the
world of good. Now, are you going to take these pills or do I have
to force them down your throat?" asked Viggo, shooting Orlando a
lopsided grin.

`Great.' Orli thought. `How the hell do I tell him I don't want
them. Oh yeah Vig, I don't take them because I'm scared of not
feeling everything I possibly can? Because I would rather feel pain
than feel nothing. I don't think so.' Instead he simply decided to
suck it up. He nodded and quickly knocked back the pills that Viggo
offered him before he could change his mind. The defeat he had
finally accepted weighed heavily on him, and an overwhelming desire
to sleep crept over him. Waving to Viggo, he walked into his bedroom
and threw himself onto the bed, not bothering to close the door or
even take off his shoes.

Viggo didn't leave right away. He knew that the drugs would knock
him out pretty quickly, but he wanted to be there in case he needed
anything. He made his way quietly into Orli's room. He set Orlando's
alarm clock for him, laughing at Peter's reaction if he were late to
the photo shoot. Orli was already in Peter's bad books after the
surfing stunt. Luckily, Orli didn't have to shoot scenes for a
couple more days. Soft snores from the bed told Viggo it was safe to
remove Orlando's shoes and jacket. After he pulled his blanket over
the sleeping form, he couldn't help brushing a quick kiss goodnight
on his forehead.

"Sweet dreams," he whispered.

Orlando stirred and his eyes opened ever so slightly. "Would you
miss me Vig?"

The question was so soft Viggo wasn't even sure if he'd heard it.
But he was left to ponder what Orli had meant, as the return of his
snores told Viggo he would be sleeping until morning.


Part 4:
~Interlude 2~

*Viggo's POV*

I could hear Livvie screaming, screaming so loudly it was deafening.
She wasn't the only one. Elijah was yelling, trying to push past the
arms of Sean who held him back. While Sean refused to watch the
scene unfolding before us, Elijah's eyes were wide; fear and anger
radiating from him like some kind of primal force. It scared me to
see such raw hatred in those eyes. I truly believe that in that
moment, Elijah finished growing up. Whatever emotions he felt then,
they completed his transition from childhood. It made me so very sad.

I was watching all this in some futile attempt to ignore what was
happening. Seconds before, I thought I had seen my life fall apart.
I thought I had seen God put his hand on my shoulder, and then rip
my heart from my chest. I wouldn't believe it had happened. Life
could not be this cruel. Surely I had never scorned God so much that
he would be so vengeful as to tear away from all of us the kindest,
sweetest soul we had ever known.

Stop the train, I want to get off. Pinch me, I'm dreaming. These and
other nonsense phrases swirled behind my closed eyes. When I opened
them, it would all be all right. I'd open my eyes and there he'd be,
my angel, sleeping soundly next to me. I'd reach out and pull him
close, feel his heartbeat against my chest, hear him sigh, content
to be just where he was, with me. I imagined this, stretching my
hand out to touch him. I did it in my mind, but when I touched him
he was cold. I pulled my hand back and looked at it, covered in
blood. My gaze shot back to Orlando in front of me, but instead of
his beautiful face I was met with a rotting, festering corpse.

My eyes snapped open, and I realised my own voice had been added to
the screaming. It was real, it had really happened. Orlando was
lying on the ground shaking and gasping for breath. Blood was
soaking his shirt and beginning to pool on the floor beneath him.
The cream carpet was soaking up the precious fluid like a sponge.
Bean had dropped to my angel's side, pulling him into his lap and
cradling his head. He brought his hands up in front of his face,
staring dumbstruck at the blood staining his skin.

I mentally shook myself back to awareness. My senses became acutely
aware of everything around me, the initial numbness wearing off.
Ignoring the enraged cries coming from our captors, I virtually
leapt across the room to Orlando's other side. I could hear Sean's
distraught apologies as I examined my lover. I laid the back of my
hand on his face. His usually glowing olive complexion was dull and
pale. His skin was clammy to the touch and sweat beaded across his
forehead and upper lip. The dark eyelashes fanning across his cheeks
fluttered slightly. His breathing was shallow.

I thanked God that Orlando was still alive. I knew deep down that he
couldn't have left us. He had too much to do, too much to live for.
Even though I knew it was useless, I begged whoever was listening to
let me take his place. I vowed to him once that I would always take
care of him, never let anyone hurt him. Not again. I'd broken my
promise, and now I might never be able to make it up to him.

"Orlando, angel, can you hear me? Open your eyes… please?"

Nothing. No sign, not even a whimper, to tell me that he'd heard me.
They say that even people in coma's can probably hear people talking
to them. Why couldn't he answer? And if he really couldn't hear me,
what must he be thinking? He must be wondering why I wasn't there to
soothe the pain, he must be thinking I'd abandoned him. He looked so
small, so young just lying there, completely helpless.

Rough hands grabbed me from behind and dragged me away from Orlando.
I struggled against the arms that restrained me, crying `no no no'
over and over again. I was thrown to the ground, landing next to Liv
and John. Sean had taken a punch to the jaw while trying to stay at
Orli's side, and his face was covered in blood from where his lip
had been split. Ian pulled Bean to his feet, warning him off with a
stern glance. They'd all seen the furious glint in Sean's eye
before, even though he had been careful never to lose his temper in
front of any of them. Dragos walked over to Orli, who had ceased to
shiver and lay worryingly still. It wasn't natural for Orlando to be
completely motionless. He only ever stayed still when something was
very wrong.

"Stupid brat," he spat, kicking Orlando viciously in the side,
eliciting a tiny moan from his lips. My own rage was drowned out by
Elijah's incensed screams.

"YOU BASTARD!! You fucking bastard! Why'd you that that? How fucking
dare you! I'm gonna KILL you, you mother fucking son of a bitch!"

"Elijah, hush. Don't make a bad situation worse," Ian advised as I
watched Billy attempt to help Sean keep Elijah from hurling himself
at Dragos. The damage was done though.

"Shut up, whelp," Dragos growled, snapping his fingers. Two of his
cronies ripped Elijah from Sean's arms, pulling him towards their
leader. To his credit he put up a good fight for someone his size,
almost wriggling away from them at one point. Dragos stepped in
front of Elijah, roughly seizing his face in one hand.

I watched despairingly as, in one final act of defiance, Elijah
pulled back his head and spat in Dragos' face. I shut my eyes and
swallowed, hardly daring to look back at what would happen next.
Dragos however merely wiped the saliva from his face and began to
turn away. Then in a flash he spun, propelling all his might into a
staggering backhand slap across Elijah's cheekbone. Lij's head
snapped back, and only the men holding him kept him from crumpling
to the floor.

"Are we no better than animals? You cannot possibly think to treat
people like this. He is no more than a child, no threat to you, and
yet you beat him. Can we not conduct ourselves in a civilised
fashion?" John's booming voice cut across the room, as always
commanding the attention of all present.

"Listen, all of you. Whatever treatment you Hollywood types are used
to, I assure you now that you will not be coddled so while in my
presence. From now on, you will do exactly as I tell you, unless you
want to end up like young Mr. Bloom. Maybe as a punishment for this
little weasel's disobedience I should just finish his friend off?"

Dragos turned back to Elijah, and I felt something deep inside me
give up. This man was completely mad. He wasn't just after the
money. He fully intended to cause us harm, and seemed to revel in
the fear he caused

"If you were my son, I'd have taken my belt to you years ago, you
arrogant little shit." Dragos' face was only centimetres from
Elijah's as he snarled the words at him, before grabbing his collar
and tossing him back towards where Dominic had been watching in
terror. He reached forward to Elijah, and I could see where his
knuckles had gone white from clenching his fists for so long.

"What about Orlando? You can't think to just leave him there. He
needs medical attention. Have some mercy for pities sake! He's done
nothing to you! Do you really want murder added to the charges that
will be brought against you?" Fran's impassioned pleas seemed to
break through the maniacal shell of Dragos' mind. Her face was so
earnest, and I knew I would always be grateful to her for trying to
help my angel.

Dragos nodded to another of his men, who made his way to Orlando and
crouched next to him. This one was much more uncertain than the
others' Dragos had in his employ. His hands shook slightly as he
unbuttoned the top of Orlando's shirt. I felt an irrational wave of
jealousy as I watched this man touching Orlando's skin. Only I was
allowed to do that. He was mine and I was his: body, mind and soul.
No one else had the right to touch him.

My thoughts must have been evident on my face, as I felt Liv place a
trembling hand on my arm. Our eyes met for the first time, and the
love I saw shining there made me forget my anger for a second. I
felt worry for her, and all the others for the first time. Until now
I'd been focused purely on Orlando. She squeezed my arm, silently
offering her support despite her own fear. Liv had been the first to
find out about Orlando and I, and she'd been nothing short of
perfect. It was as if she got as much joy from seeing us happy
together as we found in each other. I held her to me firmly now,
holding on to her as if she were the embodiment of those memories.

"The bullet's passed all the way through his shoulder, boss. The
blood loss looks worse than it is, no major arteries have been hit.
If we bind both wounds tightly and elevate his legs we can buy time.
But make no mistake, if we don't get him to a hospital he *will*
bleed to death. Infection will set in too. There's not much I can do
for him here except try to make him comfortable." This one's accent
was American.

"Fine, do what you can. Now, Mr. Jackson. You and I are going to
have a little chat and make some phone calls. The sooner your
friends at New Line pay up, the sooner you all get to go back to
your fairytale lives. Just make sure they're aware that Mr. Bloom's
situation puts somewhat of a time limit on proceedings."

Dragos gestured for Peter to follow him to the next room. He walked
tentatively behind, squeezing Fran's shoulder as he passed her. The
door clicked shut, the sound ominous as we all took in that one of
our family had been separated from us. We were completely out of
control of the situation, we had no influence over what would happen
to us next.

The rest of Dragos' men seemed to have lost interest in us, talking
between themselves. Watching them for signs of disapproval, I
crawled back to where Orlando was lying. I took his hand and kissed
his palm before smoothing his dark curls back from his sweaty
forehead. I searched his face for any chance that he was waking, but
still he didn't stir.

"Help me lift him." I returned my attention to the man who had
examined Orlando, and was now talking to me. I could tell by the
sound of his voice that he was young, maybe around Orlando's age. He
was attempting to remove Orlando's shirt. I helped him pull out
Orlando's long arms and lay him back down. He began to tear it into
strips.

"What are you doing?" I reached forward to stop him. That shirt was
Orlando's favourite. All frills and clashing colours.

"I need something to bind the wound with. In case you hadn't
noticed, we came bearing guns, not bandages. Damn it, I can't do
anything wearing this thing."

He pulled the balaclava off his head. Jesus, this kid looked younger
than Elijah. I watched him as he worked on Orlando.

"How do you know all this stuff. I mean, what to do for him?"

"My dad was a doctor. We need to put something under his feet."

Ian passed me a pillow from the armchair in the corner. He stayed
next to me watching Orlando closely. As the kid started to wrap his
shoulder Orlando suddenly jerked awake, shooting into a sitting
position with an anguished cry. I felt like laughing and crying at
the same time. My angel had come back to me, but the pain radiating
from his eyes was almost too much to bear.

Then he spoke.

"Vig? Vig, please help me."


Part 5:
Chapter 3

Dominic Monaghan was a man on a mission. He was calm, collected - and
ready. Ready to nail that cheeky little arsewipe Elijah for taking
the piss out of him the other night. He crept around the outside of
the camera crew, thankful for the first time in his life that he was
short. Well, the second time. He wouldn't have landed the part of
Merry if he hadn't been a little lacking in perpendicular.

Dom couldn't stifle the chuckle that popped out at the sight of a
completely vulnerable and totally unsuspecting Frodo sitting not
three meters in front of him, talking animatedly to an amused looking
Legolas. The words `moped' and `fucking hilarious' reached his ears.
Elijah was no doubt conveying to Orlando all that he had missed after
he left. His resolve strengthened tenfold, Dom moved in for the kill.

"Hey Lij!" he yelled.

"Present!" Elijah hollered, turning to see who had called him. Before
he could even blink, he was struck full in the face with a very
large, very cold snowball. They had been shooting the Caradhras
scenes today. Spluttering and batting snow from his nose and mouth,
Elijah opened his eyes to be confronted with a triumphant Dominic. He
spun to see Orlando laughing so hard he could barely breath.

"Oh, so you think that's funny do you, prissy pants? Lets see how you
like it when that pretty hair of yours looks like its been dragged
through Moria five times over!"

Elijah scooped up some snow and began to advance on Orlando, whose
continuing bout of the giggles rendered him virtually defenceless. He
backed away slowly, struggling to control himself and holding out his
arms in surrender.

"NOT THE WIG!"

The warning in the voice was enough to stop both Elijah's aim and
Orlando's laughter. Peter glared at them, instantly squashing any
further thoughts of mischief. The days filming had not gone well, and
soon they would lose the light. He turned back to his conversation
with Bean and Viggo about the scene they had coming up. Sean and
Peter were engrossed, talking animatedly. This was a big Boromir
moment, with the whole tempted by the power of the ring mojo going
on. It was pretty crucial to the plot of the entire trilogy.

Viggo noticed sheepish expression on Orlando's face. Noticed, that's
a laugh. He hadn't been able to keep his eyes off him for more than
thirty seconds all day. He pretended to be angry, shaking his head
and wagging his finger. Orlando raised his eyebrows, making his eyes
go wide and opening his mouth. He pointed at himself, feigning a hurt
innocence. Viggo laughed and returned his attention to Peter's
extravagant hand gestures. Well, most of his attention anyway. He was
confused. He couldn't find a single trace of the Orlando he had left
sleeping the other night. That question, `Would you miss me?' had
been troubling since. Was Orlando planning on going somewhere? He
made a mental note to ask Orlando what he had meant the first chance
he got.

* * *

"A campfire? Look mate, I may look good in a uniform but a boy scout
I ain't!" Orlando looked at Billy and Elijah as if they'd finally
fallen off the fruit cart and descended into the depths of insanity.
They'd planned an evening round a campfire/barbeque at their house
that evening.

"Not that kind of campfire, with the Kum Bye Ah and dib dib, dob dob.
A man's campfire, where we all get drunk, put the world to rights and
congratulate each other on being masters of the universe," explained
Billy.

"Just like Yoda," added Elijah.

"Yoda wasn't master of the universe, it was He-Man you twit." Orlando
still wasn't convinced.

"Ah come on, it'll be just like `Stand By Me'. Maybe we can finally
work out what in the name of all things holy Goofy actually is!" Dom
had always been baffled by that particular question.

"He's a dog. A genetically engineered dog."

* * *

"More beer over here! Oooh, I rhymed! I'm a poet and I don't know
it!" Liv giggled at her own joke, spraying beer out of her nose.

"Oh, that's attractive. I think someone's had more than enough for
one night. That's right love, give Uncle Sean the bottle, there's a
good girl." Sean tugged at the beer bottle that was virtually welded
into Liv's hand.

"Spoilsport!" Liv called after him. She tapped Viggo on the
shoulder. "Viggy, Samwise is all grumpy again. Can't you, like,
banish him or something? You are the king after all. And I'm the
queen, so off with his head!" Liv looked at Viggo sincerely, as if
what she had just said and the hiccup that followed had all been
perfectly reasonable.

"Liv, sweetheart, don't call me Viggy."

"Tell me again Lij how this `man's campfire' involved both Liv and
Christine being invited?" Orlando laughed as Elijah's face turned a
charming shade of beetroot.

"Lij could never say no to a pretty face," said Dominic.

"Oh, bite me," Elijah said, trying to ignore them.

"Ooh tiger, you know I love it when you talk dirty!" Billy walked up
behind Elijah and tickled him.

"William Boyd, not in public! What would your mother say if she found
out!"

"My darling boys! I'm so happy for the both of you. Remember if you
need any advice you know where I am," Ian joined in the joke.

"Oh yeah, this campfire's real manly. All we need now is a rendition
on the `Village People' and we'll be all set for Mardi Gras." Sean
tried to be prim and proper, but couldn't help laughing as Billy
started to mince around the table, swinging his hips out as far as
possible.

"Come on, back to the campfire! Who's turn is it in the Hot Seat?"
Dominic wanted to get someone else in line for embarrassment. His
turn in the Hot Seat, having questions fired at him for sixty seconds
and having to answer honestly as quickly as possible, had revealed
the rather unfortunate truth that his favourite colour was pink. It
really was incredibly difficult to lie under the pressure of the Hot
Seat, especially when you had ceased to be sober five pints
previously.

"I do believe it's Orli!"

"Ah crap, I was hoping I'd get away with it. Come on then, do your
worst. I dare you." Orlando walked forward and sat on the stool
allocated. Christine had dubbed it the `Stool of Cruel', and refused
to have anything to do with the questioning.

"Ready……GO!"

"How old were you when you lost your virginity?"

"Fifteen."

"Why'd you get a Mohawk?"

"Cos Liv fucking Tyler told me to."

"Where's the funniest place you've had sex?"

"Lijah's room."

"Hey, you bastard. I have to sleep in those sheets!"

"Sorry mate, I was there, she was there, know what I'm
saying?"

"When was the last time you cried?"

"Last night."

"Why?"

"I was scared."

"Scared of what?"

"Being too happy. I was scared of being too happy."

"Have you ever snogged a guy?"

"Yes. Oh shit! You're not s'posed to know that!"

"Seriously?! Are you gay?"

"I, uh ……"

"Answer the question Orlando, those are the rules."

"Honestly? I kinda think I might be."

A stunned silence followed. Orlando could almost see the tumbleweed
blow past. All eyes were on him, and the only sound heard in the next
twenty seconds was another hiccup from Liv. Orlando cleared his
throat loudly.

"Well, that must have been one minute. Who's next?" Orlando stood
quickly, rubbing his sweaty hands on his jeans.

"WaitwaitwaitwaitWAIT! Did you just come out? Was it just my twisted
imagination, or did you just *jump* out of the closet! Orli, are you
gay?" Elijah was right in front of him now. He was acting so hyper
that one could be forgiven for thinking he'd sucked the candy store
dry.

"No Lij, I just… I'm just undecided, that's all. I don't really know
what I am. I've never really thought about it that much. Can we drop
it now, please?"

"It's alright Orli, now who's for Twister?" Ian placed a comforting
hand in the small of Orlando's back. Orli was silently cursing his
fat mouth. He knew he shouldn't have drunk so much, especially when
the last of the painkillers Vig forced on him weren't out of his
system. He felt a huge surge of gratitude towards Ian. He'd often
wondered whether he should try to talk to the older man about his
sexuality. He knew now that he would understand.

"But wait a minute, you can't just drop something like that on us and
then just ignore it! What gives? Who'd ya snog?"

"Elijah, *drop it*," warned Dom. Everyone had seen the embarrassment
on Orlando's face and the way he was fidgeting uncomfortably. As
Elijah carried on his interrogation, tears began forming in Orlando's
eyes. Eventually he couldn't take any more and made a break for the
door, knocking a glass to the floor as he ran. He heard the
shattering of the glass behind him as he fled.

"What bit his bum?" Elijah looked totally confused.

"Do you even think before you speak? I swear your foot must live in
your mouth. You know, for such a smart kid you can be as thick as
shit sometimes!" Dom shook his head at Eijah in disbelief.

"That was incredibly insensitive of you Elijah. Next time you might
like to use a little something we normal people like to call tact.
Should someone go after him do you think?" Ian turned his attention
from Elijah to the rest of the group.

"No," said Bean. "I think we'd just make him more embarrassed. No one
speak to Orlando about this. If he feels comfortable talking about
it, let him be the one to bring it up. Otherwise he'll just be on the
defensive."

"You're right Sean," said Viggo. "Just give him time."

* * *

"Oh, Sweet Jesus that didn't just happen. That so DID NOT just
happen. Tell me I did not just do that. I'm screwed. I am well and
truly fucked!" Orlando was virtually hyperventilating as he thought
about what he'd just told his friends, the friends he had been so
worried about losing. He knew they wouldn't judge him over his
sexuality, they accepted Ian after all, but they must be hurt that he
hadn't told them. He would have been.

It wasn't that he didn't trust them, just that he'd never really
thought about being `gay' before. He'd been attracted to men, but
he'd never been looking for a relationship. He had fun. If he was
attracted to a guy, he acted on it. But he'd never gone all the way
with a man, purely because he hadn't ever been comfortable with his
feelings. With girls he'd been with it was just sex, no emotional
baggage. He knew now that he had never been after anything serious
with a woman because he had never really felt that way about them.
And because he'd never wanted a relationship, he'd never had to face
up to defining his sexuality before.

The closest he had ever come to any meaningful event with a man was
with his fucking best friend! Atti was bisexual, and they'd always
been close. They'd both been really drunk one night, and
unfortunately needed some mutual TLC. One thing led to another, and
pretty soon they were both butt naked on the floor. Luckily for both
of them, Atti had stopped things before they went any further. He
knew Orli had never been with a guy, and told him that he would never
have been able to forgive himself if he made his best friend's first
gay experience a drunken fumble on the floor.

Instead of calling a cab, Orlando decided to walk home. He needed to
clear his head, he had a lot of thinking to do. He couldn't deny it
any longer - having to make a committed decision like that had made
him finally admit how he really felt - but he had no idea what to do
now. He could have lied, but what was the point? He hadn't the
slightest idea how to act around his friends tomorrow. And more
importantly, what would he do now? How the hell was he supposed to
chat up blokes?! The very idea filled Orlando with dread. What the
hell was going on in his head?

"Why is life so bloody confusing?" he muttered, setting off in the
direction of his home. He wondered whether he should wait outside and
travel home with Liv, seeing as she lived so close to him, but the
thought of seeing any of them sent an involuntary shudder through his
body.

Shoving his hands deep into his pockets, he stepped out into the
road. He was so focused on his own problems that he didn't notice the
bright glare of headlights racing towards him. The sound of a revving
engine brought him back to his senses just in time to dive towards
the curb. He hissed as his outstretched palms scraped along the
gravel, and the force of the impact jarred his shoulder. He felt a
familiar twinge pass through his chest, his body still not totally
over his surfing accident. The sound of screeching tyres and a
blaring horn tore the air.

"Fuck," muttered Orlando, looking at the blood on his hands. He
cringed at the dirt stuck between the flaps of torn skin.

"Oh son, I'm sorry! I didn't see you there. Here, let me help you
up." Orlando looked up to see the dark form of a man standing over
him. He didn't know why, but something about it unsettled him. The
headlights blaring out from behind the driver meant Orli could not
see his face. He put a hand up to shield his eyes. The stranger held
out a hand to him, which Orlando took to help him back onto his feet.

"You really need to be more careful out here at night. I nearly
killed you. I'm so very sorry. Are you alright?" The man looked like
he was in his forties. He was large, even taller than John R-D, and
unshaven, with mousy looking eyes. He smelt of BO.

"Yeah, I'm fine thanks."

"I'm Terry," he said, moving forward for a handshake. "And you are…?"

"Oh, right. Orlando, but my friends call me Orli."

"Well, nice to meet you Orli. Sorry again about the nearly killing
you."

"No, it was my fault." Orlando felt incredibly uncomfortable. He
didn't know whether he was still feeling shaky from when he was
inside, or whether it was the way Terry was keeping the handshake
going just a little too long. He didn't like the way he stood so
close to him, or the look in his watery little eyes. `Christ Orli,
get a grip. The guy's just being friendly', he thought to himself.

"So, can I give you a ride anywhere? I think it's going to rain
pretty soon. Wouldn't want a skinny thing like you catching cold now,
would we Orli!" the short laugh that followed worried Orli even more.
This stranger using his nickname and the way his eyes were darting up
and down his body made him feel very sober very quickly.

"No, thanks anyway. My friends are waiting for me inside. I'm late
for a party." Orlando wanted to be anywhere but there right at that
moment, even if that meant going back to the campfire.

"Ah, a party animal are we? You know, if you like I could take you to
one hell of a party." Terry attempted to lead Orlando towards the
open door of his car.

"No really. I'm expected. I've got to go." This was way too creepy
for him.

"Oh well, your loss. Maybe I'll see you around some time Orli. I'd
like to see you again."

"Yeah maybe. Well, bye." Orlando turned and walked back towards
Elijah and Billy's house.

"Bye yourself."

Terry took one last look before climbing back into his car. Turning
the ignition, he screeched off again into the night. Orlando waited
until the sound of the car had faded into the night before turning on
his heels and heading home again. He was aware that his whole body
was shaking, and not from the cold.


Part 6:
Chapter 4

`Thank God it's Friday' thought Orli as he sat in make-up having his
wig removed. He took a deep breath and rubbed his eyes. He'd had a
beast of a hangover all day, and he hadn't slept a wink.

"Penny for them," said Jen, the girl working on him.

"Don't bother honey, you'd be wasting your money. My thoughts are
more trouble than they're worth."

"Rough day?"

"That, sweetheart, would be the understatement of the millennium."

Jen just smiled and carried on with her work. Orlando had never been
anything but a gentleman around girls. He always used terms like
sweetheart or darling around them, and somehow he managed to never
sound offensive. Maybe that was why Lij had been so shocked when
he'd `come out' last night. And maybe that's why he managed to get
away with it - because he was gay and girls could sense that there
were never any further intentions behind his words.

When Jen had finished he thanked her and left the trailer, grateful
just to be out in the fresh New Zealand air - and on his way home.
While he had been in costume it had been easy to avoid the others.
Legolas was unshakeable, and so was he. But now that he was de-elfed
he didn't want to risk running into any awkward questions.

As he walked towards his car he looked up at the horizon. The sun
was just setting and the sky was streaked with purples, reds and
golds. It was so striking, Orlando had to stop to take it in. He
wanted to savour every moment. The sight instilled a sense of
tranquillity in him. He tried to remember the last time he'd felt so
peaceful, so sure that everything would be alright. Then he realised
it had been the other night, when Viggo had held him and promised
him it would all be ok. Viggo would love this sunset. Orlando
finally realised why Vig always seemed so in awe of a sunset. He
wished he could be watching it with him. He couldn't help the coy
smile that appeared on his face as he thought he would prefer it to
be a sunrise he was watching with Viggo.

As if he could read his mind, Viggo appeared silently behind Orlando
and whispered in his ear.

"Breathtaking, isn't it?"

"It's ok I suppose," grinned Orlando.

"Where've you been today?"

"Uh, I seem to recall fighting imaginary baddies and beasties with
you Vig. Are you feeling ok?" Orlando's sarcastic reply did not
receive the response he was hoping for.

"You know very well what I mean, Bloom. Don't be so pedantic. Why've
you been avoiding us? And don't you dare blame last night. No one
cares."

"I care. Elijah cares."

"Oh, stop it. You know very well that you just surprised Elijah
while he was on a sugar high. Did you see how many Dr Pepper's he
drank last night? Seen that TV ad, `What's the worst that could
happen?'. Well the answer is that Elijah's the worst, scariest thing
that could happen. He adores you Orli, we all do."

"What did you call me?"

"Sorry?" Viggo was worried. Orlando sounded offended. He looked at
Viggo in mild shock.

"What did you call me?"

"Your name. Orlando."

"No, you called me Orli. You've never called me that before. Why do
you never call me Orli?"

"I ….. It's odd. I guess it's because everyone calls you Orli.
Everyone knows Orli, has access to Orli. I want to get to know
Orlando. Because it wasn't the fun loving, carefree Orli I tucked
into bed the other night. It was Orlando. I don't think it's fair
that Orli gets all the attention."

Whatever Orlando had been expecting Viggo to say, it had been
nothing like that. Orlando once again found himself speechless
before his fellow actor. Viggo never failed to amaze him.

"I thought you didn't like me. Well, just not as much as the others'
anyway."

Viggo laughed. Not a short laugh, a full blown, booming,
Frodo/Gandalf guffaw. Orli looked hurt. Why was Viggo laughing at
him? Hadn't he just said he wanted to get to know him better? He
didn't understand.

As if reading the hurt in the dark eyes staring at him, Viggo
attempted to stifle his laughter. He spoke through shorter
chuckles. "I'm sorry Orli, it's just ….. sometimes you can be so
dense. No, I didn't mean that," Viggo backtracked again. Insulting
Orlando's intelligence obviously was not the best way to reassure
his friend, judging on the pursed lips and crossed arms.

"What I mean is, I'm sorry if I made you feel unwanted or that you
couldn't talk to me. From now on I will make it my aim in life to
solve the mystery that is Orlando Bloom. I know that you're
confused, that there's something you need to deal with. I just ask
that you trust me enough to let me help you. Cricket?"

"Huh?" Orli thought he was hallucinating. Not only did Viggo like
him, really like him, but he wanted access to his deepest darkest
secrets. He'd said all this so sincerely, and then without batting
an eyelid had said `cricket'.

"Dominic has taken it upon himself to teach Elijah, Sean and Liv how
to play cricket. He'll need all the help he can get from his fellow
Brits. You know how hopeless those Yanks are with cricket."

Thoughts still preoccupied with the conversation he was now sure he
had imagined, Orlando shook his head to try and clear it. "I don't
think so, I just feel so awkward around them now. Besides, cricket
was never really my thing. Too tame, too much standing still doing
nothing, just watching."

"You can learn a lot by just watching. I intend to teach you that on
my quest to find Orlando,"

So he hadn't imagined it.

"And I highly doubt that this game will be tame. Elijah and Dom with
bats and hurling balls at each other. I reckon much hilarity may
ensue. Orlando, they're your friends. Don't shut them out."

"You know, you should write a book or something," Orlando teased,
finally giving in. He'd missed those nutters that day.

"Been there, done that. My new project is you."

Orlando turned his face away, trying to hide the blush he was sure
had appeared all over his face. Following Viggo back towards the
trailers to meet the guys, he wondered what would happen to amaze
him next. The blush deepened when Viggo put his arm round his
shoulders as he told Billy that Orlando would be joining them. Just
a touch from Viggo made him feel things he never had before. The
sensations were alien, but so inviting. Orlando realised that a
sunrise with Viggo might not seem like such a stupid idea after all.

* * *

"HOWZAT!!!"

"What? What's that supposed to mean. Christ Dom, speak fucking
English!" Elijah looked totally bemused.

"That, my hairy hobbit friend, means I just bowled you out! Now get
away from the crease. You're an insult to the noble name of cricket."

"What? How was that out? Bill, was that out? That was so not out.
Ref, tell him!"

"It's not a ref Lij, it's an umpire. A referee is football."

"You mean soccer."

Dominic held his head in his hands. Elijah truly was hopeless. Maybe
he should have been cast as Pippin.

Orlando watched from his fielding position with a smile on his face.
The game looked to be breaking up. Lij and Dom were both red in the
face, arguing about God knew what. Orli was sure it had started on
cricket, but now he heard the words highway and motorway being
yelled back and forth, followed by Dom insisting that as an
Englishman, he spoke English correctly.

"Fancy taking a walk Orli?"

It was Viggo. Viggo looking very sexy Orlando corrected himself.

"Sure. It doesn't look like I'm gonna get to bat any time this
century." They started off. The field they were in was huge, so they
started following the hedgerow around the outside, occasionally
hearing a yell from the guys carry across the air. They walked for
about ten minutes in silence. "So, what did you want to talk about?"
Orlando had stayed quiet just about as long as he could stand.

"You really gay?"

"Uh, ok. Well yeah. Yeah I am."

"That felt good didn't it. To just say it." Viggo was smiling at him
now. Orlando felt like kissing him there and then. Was this guy too
good to be true or what!

"Yeah it does. But I don't know how to act around the guys yet. I
mean, I can't go over there and just spit it out, can I. `Hi guys,
how ya doing? Guess what, I'm gay! So where are we going today?' I
don't think so."

"You don't need to act any different. If it comes up it comes up.
Don't deny it, but don't make an issue of it either. You're still
the same guy. This isn't something you've just decided on. It's part
of what makes you you. It's a part of who Orlando is, and those guys
love Orlando."

"I know, it's a bit scary, that's all. Thanks Vig. Hey, you ever
tried surfing? Why don't you come with us next week?"

"You're going surfing again? Are you sure that's a good idea Orli?"
Viggo stopped at the indignant expression that began settling on the
younger man's face. "I don't mean surfing in general, just this
soon. Are you well enough for that?"

"Viggo, I'll be fine. That's why we're going next week, not
tomorrow. I'm not completely reckless." Orlando grinned broadly, and
Viggo couldn't help laughing with him. This kid could charm himself
into or out of anything.

"HOWZAAAAAT!!!"

"NO WAY! DOM, YOU FUCKING CHEAT!"

"I think we'd better get back before we have two dead hobbits on our
hands." Viggo slapped Orli on the back and set off back towards the
game.


Part 7:
~Interlude 3~

*Elijah's POV*

"Vig? Vig, please help me."

My eyes snapped away from Dominic as I heard the familiar sound of
Orli's voice. The sound was so welcome, yet it grated on my ears. The
voice that was once so full of joy was laced with pain and fear.

"Orli, oh thank god. I'm here angel, I've got you. You're ok, I've
got you." Viggo kept whispering to Orlando, nonsense phrases and
impossible promises of safety and peace. I watched as he held him so
tightly, as if his hold on Orlando was the same as Orlando's hold on
life. Orlando couldn't go anywhere so long as Viggo held him. Viggo's
hands ran up and down his back as he tried to soothe the tremors
coming from Orli's body.

"I thought I was dead."

"No, no don't say that. Don't even think that. You're here with me.
You're not going anywhere."

All eyes were on them. No one dared speak, hanging on Orli's every
word as though it would be his last. I realised I was holding my
breath as I waited for my friend to speak again. The wait was
agonising, and I felt a wave of dizziness pass through me as Orli
spoke, almost too softly to hear.

"He didn't get Sean, did he?"

"No." Viggo's voice was harsh. I felt Dom flinch next to me.

"Hurts ….. so cold."

As if confirming his words, a series of violent tremors wracked
Orli's lithe frame, eliciting a cry from him as the convulsions
caused the gun shot wound in his shoulder to tear. He retched and
vomited. Viggo turned him so that he wouldn't choke. The fit seemed
to pass, and Orli returned to small shivers and whimpers.

"I need a blanket. He must be so cold."

"No, we need to keep his temperature down. He's running a slight
fever already."

This came from the guy trying to help Orli. Who were these assholes
anyway? I couldn't really call them terrorists, they weren't
campaigning against or for anything political or religious. They just
wanted money. They had shot Orlando, invaded Peter's home for money.
No, not they - *he*. Dragos had done this. That psychotic bastard
hurt my friend, my brother. One of the fellowship was in pain, dying
even. And I just let it happen.

The searing pain in my face reminded me of the manic glint I had seen
in his eyes as he struck me. I'd tried, I'd tried to fight them. Why
was no one doing anything? Why didn't they fight back? I felt so
angry at the others as I felt the pain in my face intensify. They'd
let him hurt me. It was strange to me, that in a room holding Sean,
Viggo, Bean and Peter, I'd been purposely hurt by another for the
first time in years. They were supposed to protect me, just like they
always had.

The sight of Orli's blood on Viggo's hands as he angrily gestured,
arguing with this guy about Orli's condition, was branded on my mind
in that moment. I saw it every time I closed my eyes. I knew it would
haunt me forever, however long that was for me now.

I couldn't feel angry with Vig. He was caring for Orli. But he hadn't
been able to protect him, not when it really counted. Just like
before. I avoided Sean's intense gaze as he sought me out. I was
frustrated. Why didn't he do something? I knew he only wanted to be
sure I was ok, but I didn't acknowledge him. I wanted to make him
suffer, punish him for letting this happen. I knew he had no control
over any of it, but I didn't care. I didn't care about anything but
grabbing one of those guns and going reservoir dogs on these fucking
pricks.

I hadn't even looked at Bean. If he'd just kept his mouth shut, Orli
would be fine. Orli had done what I was so angry that the others
hadn't. He had given himself to protect Bean, protect the fellowship.
Protect the family. I forced myself to look up at the older man I'd
respected so much only moments before.

Oh God, I didn't mean it. Not a word, I'm sorry, I'm so, so sorry.
Bean looked so broken. So lost. His eyes were a storm of different
emotions. He stared straight ahead at something only he could see,
tears flowing silently down his face. He didn't try to stop them. He
hadn't even attempted to stop the blood that had poured from his
split lip. He blamed himself, just as I had blamed him moments
before. I hated myself then, more than I hated any of the men holding
us. I disgusted myself.

Looking away from Bean, I turned finally to look at Sean. The love I
felt for him in that moment was overwhelming. He wasn't angry at me
for turning him away before. He was just there for me, as he always
had been. I prayed that he always would be.

We all stayed like that for a long time. Watching, waiting. Listening
so intently to every ragged breath Orlando took. I had counted four
hundred and twenty three of his breaths when Peter returned. His face
was ashen as he took a seat next to Fran, clutching her hand and
shaking his head. Dragos emerged, his shoulders shaking in rage. He
spoke quietly to one of his men, who proceeded to part the blinds
with his forefinger and peer through into the darkening sky.

"They're there," he said.

Dragos obviously understood him. He began a stream of curses in an
accent that sounded Slavic. Then he reverted to English and spoke to
us directly.

"Your colleagues at New Line decided to call the FBI. Now there are
armed officers outside. And obviously, you Americans `do not
cooperate with terrorists'. But we're not terrorists my friends, oh
no. You see, we have no cause but ourselves. We care for no one but
ourselves. We have nothing to lose and everything to gain. The only
way your friends outside will save you is if they pay, and I will see
everyone in this room dead at my feet before I leave without my
money. I will bathe in your blood before I admit defeat. Do I make
myself clear?"

Dragos let his eyes travel around the room. I still sat, biting my
nails, next to Dominic, and Sean had painstakingly managed to edge
his way over to my other side without attracting attention. Fran and
Peter were close by. Dragos signalled Ian over to the gap between our
groups, and he sat slowly next to Dominic. The process was repeated
with John and Liv. John never once let go of Liv's hand. His
impressive stature dwarfed the woman, and I didn't worry for her.
John, ever the gentleman, would be her knight in shining armour. He
would keep her safe.

After getting no response from Bean, Dragos had two of his men drag
him over to the rest of us. He was pulled in by Fran, who began
looking at his lip and dabbing away the blood gently. Dragos turned
his attention to Billy. He was sitting against the wall, hugging his
knees and trying to make himself as small and inconspicuous as
possible. His eyes were wide and his breathing was laboured. He
stared in absolute terror at the man now crouching before him. My
heart cried out to him then, feeling such sorrow at the sight of such
a caring, fun loving guy being so terribly, mortally afraid. Billy
was one of the sweetest people I knew. He was kind through and
through. There was not one malicious bone in his body.

And Dragos laughed. He laughed right in Billy's face.

"Scared? You should be."

No shit.

Then Dragos marched over to where Orlando lay.

"Still alive? Shame. You," Dragos kicked Viggo, "Get over there with
the others."

"No chance. He needs me. I won't leave him. You'll have to kill me
first."

"And what makes you think I won't?" There was a dangerous edge to
Dragos' voice.

"Go to hell."

"Oh, I've no doubt I will. In fact, I look forward to it. But what
about your friend? Is he willing to go to hell?"

For a split second I thought he was making some sick joke about Orli.
Then I saw him walk back to Bill, grabbing him by the hair and
yanking him to his feet. He cried out in pain, and I started forward.
Sean and Dom both grabbed me again. I knew there was nothing I could
do, but my instinct was to help Billy. I ran my hands back through my
hair and let them rest there, gripping tightly. I stared, numb, as
Dragos kicked Billy's legs out from under him, sending him crashing
to his knees. Dragos circled him, like a predator closing in for the
kill. He spoke again to Viggo.

"Now, you have two choices. You can stay where you are, that's fine
by me. But I'll shoot your friend through the head. Or you can do
what I tell you and sit the fuck over there."

Viggo began to protest, we all began to shout, scream, cry, beg. But
all Dragos had to do to silence us was take the safety off his
shotgun. Just like in the movies. My nerves were so frayed I almost
laughed. We were all actors; we could well have been shooting a
movie. Except that the blood on the floor left a coppery scent in the
air, and the crying was not a result of tear sticks.

"You have to the count of three to make your decision Mr. Mortensen.
One... "

Breathe in, breathe out. My heart thudded in my chest. I thought it
would explode.

"Two..."

Darkness crept into my consciousness, my vision narrowing to a dark
tunnel. Somewhere in the distance I heard a dry sob escape Billy's
throat. I love you Bill, I love you...

"Three."


Part 8:
Chapter 5

Orlando tugged his new wetsuit out of his sports bag and hurriedly
tried to haul himself into it. He jumped up and down trying to yank
the tight material up over his hips. He was running late to go
surfing with Viggo and the hobbits. He'd been stuck in costume being
measured by Ngila for a new tunic. The one he'd been wearing was
getting worn down. Orlando had been looking forward to this all week,
and he didn't want Viggo to think he wasn't coming. Orli cursed as he
lost his balance as, with a final haul, the wet suit covered his bum.
He toppled to the floor with all the grace of a hippo.

"Mr Bloom, are you ok?"

Someone was knocking on his trailer door. Orlando pushed himself up
off the floor and opened it. One of the runners was standing there
wearing a puzzled expression and holding a huge bunch if roses.

"Uh, I'm fine - thanks. Are those for me?"

"Yes sir, they just arrived. Special delivery too."

"Thanks." Orlando took the flowers from the runner and shut the door.
It was a bunch of twelve red roses. Orli wrinkled his nose at the
smell, it was really strong. They must have been really fresh - and
really expensive.

Orlando looked at the card attached to the wrapping. It was in a red
envelope.

` Thinking of You '

"That's weird, no one's signed it." Orli puzzled over who could have
sent the flowers, and what he was going to do with them. He decided
on giving them to Liv, or maybe Fran. They'd get much more pleasure
out of them than he would.

Throwing some jogging bottoms and a sweater in the sports bag, he
locked up the trailer and headed over to hobbit central. Hopefully
they'd all be waiting for him there. As he walked around the back of
the catering tent, he heard voices inside. He stopped to listen when
he heard his name.

"Yeah, had to take a bunch of flowers to Orlando. Honestly, Peter
thinks we've got nothing better to do."

"Tell me about it. Bloody actors. Mind you, I wouldn't mind being at
Orlando's beck and call. Talk about hot. I guess I'll just have to
wait my turn, he's working his way around the set. I tell you, if I
ever got my hands on him I'd..."

Orlando blushed as he listened to the guys in the tent. Is that how
people really though of him? Is that how his friends saw him?

* * *

"Go on Vig, just give it a go. You'll love it," urged Elijah.

"What kind of pansy king are you, afraid of a little bit of water!"
added Dom.

"You did promise me Viggo." This time Orlando.

Viggo looked down at himself, clad in nothing but a wet suit. He
cursed himself for the dozenth time that day for allowing himself to
be dragged into this madness. Surfing, it's crazy. He wondered how
the hell Orlando could be back out here doing this already. It had
only been two weeks since he had put himself in hospital by doing
this exact same thing. And now he was letting Orlando talk him into
it!

"Why do I let myself listen to you, you little hellion."

Orlando's face lit up as he grinned from ear to ear, and his eyes
sparkled. He'd got his way. Viggo knew that this was the beginning of
something. The beginning of Orlando always getting his way. The puppy
dog eyes he had used to persuade Viggo down to the beach in the first
place had rendered Viggo defenceless. He knew that he'd always give
Orlando anything he asked, deny him nothing. He would do anything
just for one of the smiles Orlando was gifting him with right now. It
had drawn him in like a spell he was powerless to resist. And he
found that he didn't want to try.

"Last one in the water's a poof! Oh, sorry Orli!!"

"You think that's funny do you Boyd? Who's the one who's national
dress is a skirt?!"

"Oi, wanker! It's a kilt, not a skirt."

* * *

"So, how'd you enjoy the surfing?"

"Well, it was certainly exhilarating. But I can think of, uh… safer
ways of having fun." Viggo was driving back to his cabin with Orli at
the end of the day's surfing. He had really enjoyed himself, but he
wasn't going to tell Orlando that. He loved how passionate he got
when he was talking about the things he loved. Viggo was rewarded by
an onslaught of the many benefits of extreme sports form Orlando, and
he just sat back and soaked it all up.

"What? Why're are you looking at me like that?"

"No reason, it's just refreshing to hear you talk about something
with such feeling. Ah, the joys of youth. You, Orlando, make me feel
old."

"You're not old Vig, you'll never be old. Not to me."

"Ha! What do you know; you're still wet behind your ears. I've been
acting almost as long as you've been alive!"

"That's why you'll never be old to me. You act, you paint, you write
poetry. Your photographs are the most amazing things I've ever seen.
You capture everything about a person in one shot, because you see
everything about them. You see their souls. How do you do that Vig?"

"Like I told you, you can learn a lot from just watching."

Viggo was taken aback by the conviction behind Orlando's words. His
voice was more animated talking about Viggo's photography than it had
ever been while he was talking about surfing. Viggo couldn't help
feeling flattered as he looked into Orlando's soulful eyes. He
couldn't quite believe that someone like Orlando would be so
interested in his work.

They sat in silence the rest of the way back to Viggo's cabin. Viggo
kept his eyes on the road, not noticing the secret looks Orlando kept
stealing in his direction. Orlando was feeling a little embarrassed
about what he'd said earlier, and was worried that Viggo's silence
now was because he'd made him uncomfortable. He'd been so happy when
Viggo had agreed to come surfing with them, but now he was sure he'd
ruined everything by coming on too strong.

He laughed at himself in his head. What was he worried about ruining?
He and Viggo weren't in any kind of relationship, and Viggo had never
given him any reason to think they could be. And Orli didn't even
know what he would do if Viggo did express an interest in him. Not
that he would. Someone like Viggo deserved someone mature,
sophisticated, like Ian maybe. Even Beaner, although Orlando knew
there was no chance that Sean was gay. Orlando was just a kid. A
careless, over zealous, thrill seeking kid. A kid who had never given
his heart to anyone before because of some misguided fixation with
living life in the fast lane.

They turned onto the track that led up through woodland to the cabin.
They pulled up in Viggo's driveway. Viggo put on the handbrake and
turned the ignition. Everything went dark as he switched off the
headlights. Neither of them made to go into the house. Viggo put his
hands back on the steering wheel and stared ahead, while Orlando
twiddled his thumbs.

"So," began Orlando.

"So …… coffee? Beer?"

"Coffee would be good."

They still sat there.

"Well, the kettle's inside."

"Oh, right." Orlando laughed nervously as he climbed out of the car.
Viggo let himself into the cabin, holding the door open for Orlando
behind him. Orlando had only been here once, and that had been to
pick Viggo up before he had a car. He hadn't got a good look around.

"Make yourself at home," Viggo called from the kitchen. Orlando could
hear a tap running, and then the clinking of mugs. He knew he should
probably go and help Viggo with the coffee, but he couldn't resist
exploring. It was very tidy, not what he'd expected from an artist.
He'd been expecting clutter. But the noticeboard on the wall was
anything but tidy. It was huge, taking up most of the wall. Covering
every inch were photographs of things, people, places. He couldn't
see a speck of the board beneath the pictures, except for one blank
space in the very centre. He could see his own face staring out at
him from the collage, as well as all the other cast members. He
didn't even remember half of them being taken. Viggo's mirror in his
trailer was just like this, covered in memories. He reached out to
touch a picture of Viggo that he remembered taking himself when Viggo
had asked him to. A voice behind him made him jump, snatching his
hand back like he had when his mum found him raiding the biscuit jar.

"Do you like it?" asked Viggo.

"It's brilliant. What's with the gap though? Don't tell me you don't
have one to go there."

"No, I've got plenty of others, but I'm saving that space for a
special photo."

"What of?"

"I don't know, I haven't taken it yet."

Viggo walked over and handed Orlando his coffee. He signalled for
Orlando to sit on the sofa. Sitting in the armchair near the sliding
door that led out into the garden, he watched Orli as he perched
himself on the edge of the sofa.

"You can sit back you know. The sofa won't bite. Just relax." Viggo
laughed softly as Orlando let the tension leave him and sank back
into the cushions.

"I'm glad you came today Viggo. I wasn't sure if you'd want to."

"Why wouldn't I want to, it gave me the chance to study Orlando Bloom
in his natural habitat. I'm surprised you experts would want an old
fart like me cramping your style!"

"You're not old, I won't tell you again! We're not experts anyway,
just having a good time. If we were experts it wouldn't be any fun
anymore. Now, what's with this wanting to `study' me?" Orlando raised
an eyebrow suggestively. He was only playing, but secretly he hoped
Viggo meant it literally.

"I told you Orli, I want to get to know you."

"I thought you wanted to get to know Orlando?"

"I do," Viggo moved over to the sofa to sit next to Orlando. "But
Orli and Orlando are the same person, they're just always in
different places. I want Orli and Orlando to be comfortable around me
at the same time. I want to spend time with Orli, but if Orlando
needs to cry, then I want him to."

"You want a lot of stuff don'tcha?" Orlando smiled.

"Yes Orli," Viggo said, cupping Orlando's face in his hands. "I want
everything."

Orli was stunned. He couldn't believe he'd just heard that. He
couldn't believe that Viggo Mortensen, the man he'd dreamt about, was
holding his face and telling him he wanted everything. Everything,
for fuck's sake. `Okay, this is moving way too fast' he
thought. `Only just realised I was gay, only just started crushing on
Vig. I am so not ready for this. Leave Orli, high tail it out of here
right now.'

But he didn't. He was lying to himself now. He'd known he was gay and
denied it. He'd known he was head over heels for Viggo and pretended
it was just some sort of hero worship. So he sat in front of Viggo,
watching him. He wasn't sure what for. Maybe to see whether his eyes
told him the same thing his mouth had. He was waiting for Viggo to
laugh at him, tell him it was all a joke. He was waiting for a hobbit
to jump out and say `Gotcha!'

But nothing happened. There was no sound other than the thumping of
his own heart. Without realising he was doing it, he reached out a
shaking hand to Viggo and splayed his fingers across his chest. He
could feel Viggo's heart beating just as fast and hard as his own. He
looked down at his hand and breathed in sharply. He felt Viggo tilt
his chin back up and move one hand from his face to the back of his
neck, drawing him in. He was so close. Orlando could feel Viggo
breathing his name on his face, could feel his heart speeding up
beneath his fingertips.

"Orli…"

Orlando shuddered as Viggo planted a butterfly kiss behind his ear.
He closed his eyes and arched his neck as the soft caresses moved
down his jaw. He wanted to savour every single shiver than ran
through his body. He finally looked back at Viggo as the kisses
stopped, just before reaching his lips.

"Are you sure?" Orli whispered. He had to ask. He couldn't bear for
Viggo to kiss him now and then never feel his lips again.

Viggo didn't speak, he couldn't. Just one look at the eyes locked on
his, begging for his approval, took his breath away. He couldn't have
spoken if his life depended on it. So he answered him the only way he
knew how. He leant in and kissed him. Slowly at first, nipping and
pulling at Orlando's lower lip. As he felt Orli respond, he couldn't
hold himself back any longer. He delved his tongue into Orlando's
mouth, twisting and plunging, deepening the kiss so that he couldn't
breath. He didn't need to breath, or eat or sleep ever again. Orli
was the air, the sun, the moon, and the stars. Orli was all he would
ever need. And he wanted everything Orli had; He wanted to offer him
the world. He heard Orlando moan and bring his hands up to fist them
in his hair.

Viggo felt like he would die if the kiss ever ended. But Orli pulled
away, as he knew he would have to, his breath coming in gasps.
Neither man let go of the other. They just breathed deeply, exploring
each other's faces. Viggo leaned back in and began to kiss Orlando's
neck. He gasped as he felt Viggo's teeth graze his skin. His lips
were still on fire from the kiss. But that had been more than a kiss
to him. That kiss had been like a lifeline, pulling him back from the
storm to love and life... and hope. Since his accident, Orli knew he
had been losing himself. Not since the surfing, when he was trapped
in the water, or in the oblivion of unconsciousness. But since the
day he broke his back. He had lived for the moment he was in, not all
the moments that were to come. Viggo had thrown him that lifeline,
and he vowed then and there that he would grasp it with both hands,
and haul himself back to life before it was too late. He would do it
for Viggo. He would do it for himself. He finally wanted to be saved.

* * *

"Orlando, have you been listening to a word of what I just said?"
Sean stopped impatiently in his tracks, grabbing Orli's arm. Elijah
and Billy had to stop short before they bumped into him. They'd been
following Orlando to his trailer to search for the keys to his
apartment. He couldn't find them anywhere.

"What? Sorry Sean, I'm all over the place today. What were you
saying?"

"It's not important. Just about filming today. You were really good
in the council scene. What's up?"

"Yeah Orli, you're all spacey. And you keep grinning all the time.
Who's pants did you get into last night huh? Maybe you left your keys
at their place!" Elijah couldn't help ribbing Orlando.

"No one! I'm not a complete slut you know." Orlando stopped, again
halting the groups progression. He spoke very quietly, eyes on the
floor as he did so. "Guys, do you really think I'm a slut?"

"Orli, are you alright? What's brought all this on?" Billy stepped
forward and put a hand on his friend's arm.

"Nothing, I just heard a couple of guys talking about me. I got the
impression that most people around here think I'm, well, easy. You
know, anyone's for the taking."

"Orlando, don't think like that. We just joke. I mean, have you seen
you? You're so good looking people are bound to be jealous." Sean was
worried now. Orlando usually revelled in the banter they had going.

"But you, you didn't hear what they were saying. It was …. vulgar.
Really disgusting." Orli was chewing his bottom lip and scuffing his
shoe in the dirt on the ground.

"Listen mate, ignore them. They're just like that because they know
they'll never be good enough to get anywhere near you. They not even
good enough to skulk around in your shadow. Don't think about it for
one second longer." Elijah gave his friend a sympathetic pat on the
back and started back towards the trailer.

Orlando let them in and flicked on the light switch. The first thing
he noticed was the open window. He was sure he'd closed it. The guys,
however, had noticed something entirely different. Several cards were
lying in their opened envelopes on the table, and a vase full of
tulips was on the shelf.

"So Lij was right, you did get into someone's pants! That's why
you've been all gooey and doe eyed lately. Come on, `fess up! Who's
the lucky fella?" Billy's blue eyes were dancing.

"Ah crap, I meant to put those away."

"Orli, none of these are signed. Have you got a secret admirer?"

"No, but it is a secret. Mind you, I have started to wonder if
they're from who I think they are."

Orlando had been in heaven in the two weeks he and Viggo had been
seeing each other, but the fact that he sent Orli all these things
and then never mentioned them was slightly worrying. Mind you that's
his style. He's an old fashioned gentleman. Orlando was brought back
to the present by Sean's voice.

"Here's your keys Orli, you bloody space cadet. They were on the
table all along. Now let's go, I need to work on my hobbit paunch."

The others rattled down the trailer steps and into the night air,
laughing and joking all the way. Orlando pulled shut the open window,
making sure it was locked firmly this time. Frowning and throwing his
keys in the air, he flicked off the light and locked the trailer.
Wondering about how he'd missed his keys, he jogged off after the
hobbits.


Part 9:
Chapter 6

Orlando forced his eyes open, blinking owlishly as he pulled himself
back to consciousness. Orlando was usually terrible in the mornings,
burrowing his head into the pillow and ignoring all the sounds of a
new day. This morning though, he wanted to wake up. But he definitely
didn't want to get out of bed yet. His eyes focused on the familiar
form next to him. Smiling slightly, he shuffled forwards into the
arms that had been opened to him. Resting his head in the crook of
Viggo's neck, he breathed deeply, savouring the scent.

"Mmm, morning."

"That tickles. Are you hungry? I've got breakfast on the stove."

"Does eating breakfast mean I have to move?" Orlando was happy just
where he was.

"Yep."

"Then who needs food?"

"Well, I'm getting up anyway, so you can stay there as long as you
like, lazybones." Viggo shifted away from Orli, teasing him by moving
in for a kiss, and then brushing his lips with his own before moving
away. Orlando growled slightly before getting up and padding after
Viggo into the kitchen.

He still couldn't believe his luck. He was here in a woodland cabin
in New Zealand, watching the light morning mist roll around the
trees. He could hear the birds singing, feel the fresh air drifting
in through the open door to the garden. And he was with Viggo. The
last five weeks had been like something out of a dream. That night
when he and Viggo had kissed had been the first day of the rest of
his life. Vig treated him so good. He cooked for him, he read to him,
he sent roses and cards to his trailer and then never even mentioned
them. He left so many messages on his answer phone that there was
never any room on the tape for anyone else to leave one.

Orli wondered when he left those messages, seeing as they spent
almost every minute in each other's pockets these days. Night shoots
on Helm's Deep had started, so they spent the days together sleeping
and relaxing, amongst other things. He missed spending time with the
hobbits, but it was handy not having to think of excuses to spend
time alone with Viggo. If he were brutally honest though, the tough
hours were starting to take their toll, and they'd only been at it
two weeks. Orlando realised the only reason he went home was to pick
up those messages. Viggo must leave them at night, he didn't sleep
too well. Countless times Orli had woken in the night to find Viggo
just watching him.

Orlando felt at home here. It was so natural just to relax in the
cabin. He didn't feel bad about leaving his mess around. When he
opened the wardrobe he would find several of his eclectic shirts
staring at him. He and Vig had decided it would be a good idea for
Orli to leave clothes at his place so that he never showed up to work
in the same clothes he'd had on the day before. They hadn't told
anyone at work about their relationship yet, purely because Viggo
wasn't sure Orli would cope well with all the whispers and nudges
that would follow him around the set. It was the same on any movie
when co-stars got together. But this was different. Orlando, although
certain, was still accepting his sexuality, and the Rings' set was
not your average movie shoot. The community was tight knit, and they
still had a long way to go until filming was wrapped up.

And it was because Orli felt so at home here that when he heard a
knock at the door while Viggo was in the bathroom, he thought nothing
of jumping off his stool at the breakfast bar, strolling to the door
wearing nothing but pyjama pants, and jauntily swinging it open with
a huge smile on his face.

"ORLANDO?"

"Liv… uh, hi. Um, what are you doing here?" `The ground's not
swallowing me', he thought. `That never happens when you want it to.'

"Not the same as you obviously. I mean I knew you were gay but…
Viggo? You and Viggo?"

"Liv, I… I can explain…"

"Explain what? That's fucking fantastic!!"

Liv flung her arms around Orli's neck, squeezing and jumping at the
same time. It knocked Orli for a loop. He couldn't believe it.

"You're not bothered?"

"Why should I be bothered, you're perfect for each other. Where is
he?"

As she spoke, Viggo walked into the room, wearing even less than
Orli. He looked up at Liv in surprise, seemingly not bothered about
her seeing his boxer clad form. She didn't seem to mind either for
that matter. Orli reminded himself that by now these two had filmed
plenty of snog scenes, and they were both unfaltering professionals.

"Aragorn, you cad! You rogue!" she squealed at him, rushing towards
him. "How could you do this to me? Wait `til I tell my father. He'll
glare you to death!"

"My humblest apologies, Lady Evenstar, but I'm afraid my heart
belongs to another fair elf. I beg your forgiveness."

"Ah well, at least I can chase Glorfindel now, make up for stealing
his spotlight. Come here Orli, stand with Vig."

Orlando complied, hands subconsciously snaking around Viggo's waist.
Vig responded by planting a kiss on Orli's temple. Liv stood back and
looked, and then burst into tears. Both Orlando and Viggo surged
forward to her in concern. When they asked her what was wrong, she
forced her tears under control.

"Nothing," she sniffed. "I must be P.M.Ting. You just look so happy,
and you're gorgeous together. I'm just so happy!"

And the sobs began again.

* * *

Rain, always with the rain. Viggo forced himself, for the thousandth
time, to imagine how the Helm's Deep battle would look when it was
finished. `Only two more nights' he reminded himself.

They'd been filming this accursed sequence for weeks. The only thing
that had made it bearable was going home each morning with Orlando.
Steeling himself against the cold, he readied himself for Peter to
call to decide the cameras' were ready to roll. He marvelled at how
Orlando had been coping. That light costume in that rain and cold,
constantly having his make-up and wig readjusted. Playing an elf,
Orli had to appear completely unconcerned by the elements.

But that marvel was accompanied by worry. Orli had been looking
tired. He chanced a look at his lover for the first time during the
night's shoot. Orli had been filming on the other side of the set.
Viggo gasped at the sight. Orlando was dripping wet. He walked
slowly, his shoulder's slumped and trembling.

"Bernard?" Viggo turned to Bernard Hill who was standing next to
him. "Would you excuse me for a moment? Peter won't be ready for a
while yet."

Viggo made his way to Orlando, avoiding anyone who attempted to speak
to him. He only had eyes for his lover. It was testament to Orli's
condition that he didn't notice Viggo until he had hold of him. His
world was spinning, shapes blurring. The feel of Viggo's strong hands
holding him was too much for Orlando. His legs shook and gave out
from under him. He was aware of Viggo's voice calling something, and
then talking urgently to him.

"MEDIC!! Orli? Orli - wake up. Come on angel, open your eyes."

Viggo was unconcerned by the raised eyebrows in the crowd that had
huddled around he and Orlando as he cradled his lovers body. `Who the
fuck cares?' he thought. `Orlando needs me.'

The medic was at his side then, examining Orlando carefully. A
blanket that looked like a giant sheet of tin foil was brought over
and wrapped around the elf at the medic's instruction. As the medic
continued, Orlando's eyes snapped open.

"What? Gerroff me! Where'd my bow go? Who's got it?"

Orlando looked down to realise that his bow was still clutched
tightly in his hand. That seemed to calm him.

"Easy Orli, you collapsed. Please angel, just let them look at you."

"I'm fine, really. Just leave me be."

Orlando forced himself to his feet, despite hands trying to force him
back down. He swayed slightly before righting himself and storming
off, a look of crushed pride on his face.

"What was that all about?" asked the medic.

"I have no idea." Viggo replied.

* * *

"Orlando please, calm down. I don't know what I've done. Please baby,
just look at me. Is it because people found out? Talk to me!"

Viggo grabbed Orli's arm, swinging round to look at him and stopping
his furious pacing.

"Don't call me baby! I'm not a fucking baby. I'm twenty-three years
old God damnit! Stop treating me like a child!"

"Orlando, you *collapsed*. What did you expect me to do, huh? Tell
you to stop being such a wuss and give you a good kick? You terrified
me! You looked so fragile and …"

"*Fragile?*" Orlando's eyes glistened dangerously. "Fragile? I'm not
a bloody woman, no matter what people may think!" Orlando was panting
and red in the face. "Do you even know what it's like playing
Legolas? I don't care that people know I'm gay, or that I'm with you!
Hell, I've wanted to tell for ages. But I play an elf!"

Orlando stopped pacing and stared at Viggo, as if that explained
everything. But Vig still looked confused. More than confused, hurt.
Orlando let the anger drain from him and walked to Viggo, taking his
hand gently.

"I'm sorry Vig. It's just so hard. You spend hours in make up being
made sweaty and dirty. I spend twice as long in there being prettied
up. I hear what people say about me. I'm only here because I'm a
pretty boy. And they talk about other things. Don't look at me like
you don't know Vig. They think I'm anyone's after half a pint. I even
heard a couple of guys talking about what they'd like to do to me if
they got my hands' on me. And if you coddle me Vig, it'll just make
it ten times worse. Peter already embarrassed me by making me go
home. I haven't been working harder than anyone else, so they must
just think I'm soft."

A tear slipped down Orlando's face as he looked down at his feet. He
suddenly found his shoes very interesting. Viggo walked forward and
took both his hands. He pressed his forehead against Orli's and
sighed.

"Oh Orli, I'm sorry. I had no idea. I'm sorry."

"'S okay." Orli snuffled, trying to stop more tears from
falling. "Was that our first domestic?"

"I think it was. Orli? Can I still call you baby?"

"Course you can," Orlando laughed.

"Thank you angel."

"I'd prefer you not to call me angel in public though. Angel's wear
dresses. Why'd you call me that anyway?"

Viggo sat on the couch, pulling Orli down into his lap. "Well, I
think that everyone starts life as an angel. But us lot here on earth
are a very careless bunch, and we've gone and lost our wings." Viggo
watched Orlando's face. The tears hadn't completely stopped, so he
wiped one away with his thumb and kissed the end of Orli's
nose. "We're all searching for our wings, us lost angels. And when we
find them, we'll be able to fly. We can fly all the way to heaven.
You know, the first time I looked at Henry and his tiny fingers
grabbed my hand, I had found my wings. I've been flying every day
since."

Orlando smiled, watching Viggo's eyes mist over as he thought about
his son. He must miss him terribly. "I wish I could fly." Orli
whispered.

"You will, angel. You will. Maybe jumping out of planes will be
enough for now, eh?"

"Yeah, for now."

They sat there a little while longer, just watching each other and
enjoying the moment. A small shiver from Orlando caused Viggo to take
the comforter from the chair arm and wrap it around the boys
shoulders. As Viggo went to kiss Orlando, he was rudely interrupted
by a loud banging on the door. He got up to answer it, nibbling
Orli's ear as he passed. He opened the door and was immediately
bombarded by a hoard of hobbits and a wizard.

"You didn't tell us, you meanies!" yelled Elijah.

"Wow. The grapevine's even faster than I thought," laughed Viggo,
hugging each of his friends as they came into the cabin.

"I knew all along, you know." Ian declared. "You both had such a glow
about you." The hobbits scowled at him, angry at being left out. "Ah,
the innocence of youth," he chuckled.

"Orli, are you ok?" asked Dom, sitting down next to him on the couch
and pulled the blanket tighter around his friend. "We heard you
collapsed."

"Yeah, I'm fine. Just got a little tired. I hadn't eaten all day.
It'll all be over soon. I'm looking forward to just sleeping for a
week."

"If Viggo lets you," sniggered Billy.

"Boyd, you slut!"

"Anyway Orli, you won't be getting much sleep. We've got a break from
filming next week too. We, my friend, are hitting the town. I think
this old guy's had you to himself for far too long!"

Orli couldn't help smiling to himself. He had Viggo, Helm's Deep was
nearly over, he had the hobbits back, and now all his friends knew
about him and Viggo. Oh yes, life was good.


Part 10:
Chapter 7

"No thanks luv, I'm spoken for."

Orlando laughed at the fake pout sent at him by a blonde whose number
he'd refused. She seemed to get over it pretty quickly though, as her
eyes were drawn to another guy who passed behind Orli, following his
ass all the way into the crowd. Orli'd had to do that five times
already that night. It felt good. He remembered the shoebox in his
apartment, full of phone numbers he'd collected since arriving in New
Zealand. He smiled to himself as he realised he would never open that
box again. In fact, he hadn't even thought about it once in the last
few months. Every thought he had involved Viggo somewhere.

He made his way back to Elijah, who was sitting in their booth,
forehead resting on the table. Billy was there rubbing his back. He'd
hoped to find Viggo there. He was even more surprised that Dominic
wasn't with them.

"He puked."

"No shit Sherlock," Orli quipped. "Where's Dom?"

"Dancing over there like a bitch on heat. He's found some grabby
girl. From here he looks to be having a very good time."

Orlando thought Dom looked like he was having a bloody brilliant
time. He hoped he remembered to get his tongue back before they left.
Orli sat down and looked around the club, leaning back and letting
the thump of the dance music course through him. He found his
thoughts drifting back to Viggo again. He thought about last night.
Vig had been *very* inventive, claiming he wanted to help Orli relax,
seeing as their night shoots were over. What Viggo did to him was
anything but relaxing.

Orli looked up to see Viggo walking towards him. But the smile on his
face fell when he saw Viggo's expression.

"Love, what's wrong? Aren't you having fun?"

"No Orlando, I'm not. You begged me to come out here, even though you
knew I had plans with Ian and Beanie, and then you just ignore me all
night. It's not on."

"I'm sorry, I was just having fun. I haven't done this in so long.
Please love, don't be angry with me." Orlando could see Billy looking
at them in concern. Lijah still seemed oblivious to everything around
him.

"Look Orli, I'm going. It's not too late for me to get to Ian's for a
drink. You'll have more fun without me. But maybe next time you'll
think about someone else before you ruin their plans."

Ouch, that hurt.

Viggo got up and left. He didn't even kiss Orli goodbye. Orlando
couldn't believe what Viggo had just said. He'd made up his mind to
follow his lover and have it out with him when he heard an oddly
familiar voice call his name.

"Orli! I thought that was you. How've you been? Not walked out in
front of any more cars I see. Here, I bought you a drink."

"Hi, uh… Terry? Yeah, I've been good, thanks. You?" Orlando accepted
the drink that was thrust into his hands and poured it down his neck.
After that row with Viggo he needed a drink. It was rum and coke, the
same thing he'd been drinking all night. Orli got the suspicious
feeling that Terry had been watching him.

"Oh well, you know. Busy, busy! Are you going to introduce me to your
friends?"

"Um, sure. Terry, this is Billy and Elijah."

"Hi mate," said Billy quickly, too preoccupied with soothing Elijah's
heaving stomach to llok up and notice Orlando's discomfort. Lij just
held up a hand in an attempt to wave before letting it drop back
limply to his side.

"So, how've you been? I've seen you around in a few clubs, but not
for a while. Have you been sick?" Terry's gaze was almost suffocating.

"Nah, just been,.. uh… working night shifts." Well, it was true,
wasn't it? Orlando didn't want Terry knowing where he worked.

"Aren't you working that movie? That Tolkien thing?"

Fuck.

"Yeah. It's not really as fun as it sounds. Long hours, small part."

They were both distracted by the table in the booth being thrust into
their stomachs. Elijah had flown from the group and disappeared in
the direction of the toilets. Billy had started after him.

"Well, looks like you've got your hands full. Catch you later."

Terry was off again, disappearing into the swirl of dancing people.
Orlando was relieved, and a little surprised. He thought he was going
to have to give Terry the slip. Maybe he'd been wrong about him after
all.

* * *


Viggo finally made it to Ian's at around 11:30. He could see the
lights on inside and hear the muffled sound of laughter. Three times
he'd u-turned his car to go back to the club to apologise to Orlando,
and three times he'd changed his mind. Why should he apologise? Orli
had been in his own little world all night, dancing and drinking.

Viggo had changed his plans to fit in with what Orlando had wanted,
and then he hadn't even had the decency to appreciate it! But every
time Viggo started to get really angry he remembered Orlando's face
when he'd left. He'd looked confused. And hurt.

Viggo decided again to go back and say sorry for storming out to Orli
even as he rang the doorbell. He'd almost reached his car again when
he heard Ian's voice behind him.

"Viggo! I thought you couldn't make it! Come in, come in!"

The warmth and light filtering out of the house behind Ian in the
doorframe was just too tempting for Viggo. Given the choice between
that and going back to the dark, smoky club, Ian's place won hands
down. He could hear Beanie's voice inside. It had been far too long
since they'd spent time together. Maybe Orlando had had the right
idea in spending the night with the hobbits instead of him.

Viggo smiled at Ian and walked back towards the house. Ian clapped
him on the back as he closed the door, shutting out the night.

"Drink? Go through, Sean, John and Peter are there already. Make
yourself at home!"

Viggo was greeted warmly he as he entered the sitting room. Ian was
next to him again handing him a beer. He smiled gratefully and
plopped down onto the couch. Four sets of eyes looked at him with
eyebrows raised. When it became apparent that he wasn't going to talk
they returned to their card game.

A while passed and suddenly Sean slapped his cards down on the table
and looked at Viggo.

"Right, out with it. You were supposed to be out with Orlando
tonight. But instead you've turned up here, stinking of smoke, and
with a face like a bulldog sucking a wasp. What's the problem?"

"Is it really that obvious?" asked Viggo, looking at Sean from under
heavy eyelids. Brooding can be very tiring.

"What has our fair Mirkwood Prince done this time? Did he borrow
Anduril without asking? Damn Elves!" John laughed deeply and took a
long draught of his beer.

"No. He's just being selfish. He dragged me to that club even though
he knew I had plans with you and then he just danced and drank all
night." Viggo felt himself becoming wound up again and drained his
glass.

"Well I'm no expert, but isn't that what you're supposed to do in
clubs? Shouldn't you have been expecting that? He was just having a
good time Viggo, lord knows he needed it after the way I've been
driving you guys these last few weeks. It's different for him Viggo.
You and John are experienced actors. Helm's Deep was tough on you,
but you knew it was necessary. Poor Orlando got thrown in there
straight out of school." Peter almost looked guilty for working his
actors so hard as he spoke, as if reconsidering his methods.

"Don't be too hard on him Viggo. Orlando's a lovely boy, but that's
exactly what he is at heart, a boy. He's still so young, has so much
of the world to experience. He will approach things differently to
you. It seems he's only selfish in wanting you around him all the
time, which I would consider quite flattering. You're the role model
he's chosen." Ian spoke sagely to the group, eliciting nods from
Peter, John and Sean.

Viggo sighed and let his shoulder's droop. He suddenly felt how tired
he was. And feeling guilty about shouting at Orlando wasn't helping.
But Ian was right, as usual. Orlando had been thoughtless, but not
intentionally. That was just the way of the young. He smiled at Ian.

"Ah Mithrandir, is there no end to your wisdom?"

"Not that I've found. Now, I don't appear to be winning. You take my
place in the next game so that I can look at all your cards and `um'
and `ah' knowledgably. It'll be good for my character development."

* * *

He had to get out. The room was spinning, and it was so loud. He felt
sweat pouring off his forehead. He didn't know where he was or what
he was doing. He had to get out - he needed to breathe.

Orlando felt like he had at the shoot the other night, only ten times
worse. He couldn't remember where he was or whom he was with. Viggo
must be near by. `Maybe I'm coming down with something after all' he
thought. He felt arms grab him, steering his feet. He felt air on his
face, but it smelt stale. Yes, Viggo must have come back to say sorry
and brought him outside. It must be Viggo, because whoever it was had
started kissing him.

No, no it wasn't Viggo. Vig didn't kiss like that. His kisses were
loving, passionate. The lips on his were cruel and punishing. He
tried to push whoever it was away, but his limbs wouldn't obey. He
hissed in pain as he was slammed back into something solid. It must
have been a wall. He felt something wet and sticky running down the
back of his neck. Blood.

No, no this was wrong. He had to get away. He couldn't let this
happen. Not to him. Viggo would never want him if this happened.
Orlando didn't know why, but he felt an overwhelming sense of
sadness. Not for himself, but for Viggo. He was betraying Viggo.

He tried to struggle, tried to say no. This, whatever this was, was
wrong. Why wouldn't this fog lift? Why couldn't he see? He mentally
screamed as he felt a sweaty hand shoved down the front of his pants.
There was a sharp pain in his neck as teeth sank into his flesh,
branding him. Marking him as spoiled. He tried one last time to save
himself, and he heard an agonized cry rip from his throat. He was
rewarded with a devastating impact to the side of his face.

The lips were on his again, and he felt the tang of blood as teeth
bit down hard. The hand in his pants was working furiously. He cursed
his body for reacting to the touch. Then the hand was gone, but it
didn't go far. He felt something hard press into his thigh, and
realised the hand was now down the pants of his attacker, pumping
away. Orlando felt a tear slip down his cheek.

The `kisses' stopped, and he was vaguely aware of more beatings as he
sank down the wall. He felt hands working on the buttons of his
jeans. Orlando thought of Viggo one last time before losing his
battle with consciousness. As the fog that had been enveloping his
mind bean to thicken, he imagined he heard a voice calling his name.

* * *
"And then, he fell flat on his arse! Again! Seriously, that boy is a
walking disaster area! I'm amazed he hasn't broken his neck by now!"
Viggo laughed as he told Sean about Elijah's latest tumble during
filming, and how he'd knocked Dominic and Billy clear off their feet
in the process.

"Ah Pete, the second two movies sound like so much fun. I know the
hardcore book fans might get a little pissy, but can't you just,
maybe, not kill me off?" Sean had tears in his eyes from the story.
By now it was one a.m and the party was starting to wind down. John
had already left, and Peter was thinking about making a move to go
home.

"No can do I'm afraid. It would make the whole `three hunters'
scenario rather bizarre, what with there being four of you left."

"Then cast me as Faramir! I could be Boromir's twin brother! David
won't mind if you give him the boot!"

"Again, no can do! Never mind Sean, we'll make sure your death scene
is memorable!" Peter got up and grabbed his coat. He was just
thanking Ian for a lovely evening when the telephone cut across his
voice.

"Who would be ringing me at this hour?" Ian grumbled slightly as he
walked over to the receiver and answered.

"Hello? Yes . . . Wait, slow down Dominic. What's wrong? Viggo? Yes,
he's here, hang on." Ian covered the receiver with his hand and spoke
to Viggo. "It's Dominic, he seems quite distressed. He won't talk to
me, only you."

Viggo's brow creased in concern. Why would Dom be upset? And Orlando
was with Dominic, so why wouldn't he have called?

"Hello Dom? Calm down and tell me slowly what's happened." The others
watched tensely as Viggo listened to Dominic. They couldn't hear what
was being said, but they could pick up the panicked tone in Dom's
voice. And there was no mistaking the devastation that had descended
on Viggo's face.

"Thanks Dommie. I'll be right there. Stay with him ok?" Viggo put
down the phone and brought his hand up to his face.

"What is it? What's wrong?"

"It's Orli. He's in the hospital. Dominic said someone attacked him.
He said . . . Oh God. He said they tried to rape him."

* * *

"Angel, can you hear me? Sweetheart please, wake up."

Orlando could feel a hand squeezing his. But it wasn't the same as
the hands he could feel before. This hand was gentle. He could feel
another hand stroking his hair. He didn't want to be touched like
that. But the voice was calming. It was a voice he loved. No, voices.
Voices he loved. He could feel something cold across his face,
running into his nose. He didn't like it, it reminded him of when he
broke his back. No, he didn't want to think about that. All he wanted
to think about was the voice in his head and the hand holding his.
And he hoped, he *prayed*, that Viggo would find him; and forgive him.
* * *

"Angel, can you hear me? Sweetheart please, wake up."

Viggo watched Orlando's face intently for any sign that he had heard
him. He breathed in sharply as Liv ran a hand through Orlando's hair.
Orli had flinched away from the touch with a tiny whimper, face
troubled. Viggo tore his eyes away from the sight, squeezing them
tightly shut to stop the tears threatening to overflow.

He forced himself to look back, and resumed the whispered
endearments. He surveyed the bruising all over his lovers face and
the dried blood on the pillow below Orli's head. Six stitches could
be seen closing a gash on his scalp. Viggo tried to avoid the angry
bite mark on Orlando's neck, the only visible sign that this had not
been your average assault. Indecent assault the police had called it.
That's not what it was, it was evil. It was pure unadulterated evil
and Viggo felt his blood boil just thinking about Orlando being
touched like that. His angel deserved to be loved, not abused. Viggo
wasn't sure that he could believe it had happened if Dom hadn't seen
it with his own eyes.

Yes, Dom had seen it, and stopped it. Stopped it before his gorgeous
Orli was hurt beyond comprehension. Viggo loved Dominic anyway, but
now he would spend his life trying to thank him for saving Orli when
he couldn't. Yes, Dominic Monaghan would always be welcome in his
home. He only wished that the animal who had done this hadn't gotten
away.

"Viggo, he'll be ok. He'll wake up soon and we can get him home. We
can take care of him." Liv's voice was barely more than a whisper.

"But he shouldn't be here Livvie. If I'd stayed with him this would
never have happened. I should have taken care of him before, then he
wouldn't need it now. My God Liv, what if he never forgives me? What
if he hates me and I've lost him? I can't even forgive myself, so why
the hell should he?"

"Vig, please honey, don't say things like that. It's nobody's fault,
at least no one here. We've got him now and he's going to be ok."

"I told him to have fun Liv. I was angry with him for having fun,
angry that he wasn't having fun with me. But I sent him away to this."

Viggo heard a soft knock at the door, and let Liv answer it, not once
taking his eyes from Orlando. Bean walked in and clasped his hand to
Viggo's shoulder. Liv left silently after kissing Orli's brow. The
doctor's had said that only two visitors were allowed in at one time,
much to Elijah's distress. The boy had been in a state of shock since
Dominic had told him what happened. He couldn't grasp how one human
being could do such a thing to another. Dom had been furious he'd let
the guy get away. He'd had to choose between giving chase to someone
who may have been armed, or tending to Orlando. It was a no win
situation, but it was no use telling Dom that. He just said he would
never forgive himself, like Viggo. But Vig couldn't forget that Dom
had been there when he should have been.

"What is it with this kid and hospitals?" Sean joked softly.

"Don't fucking say that Sean. This wasn't his fault! Dom found him in
a fucking alley with that, that twisted fuck! He drugged him. What if
Dom hadn't gone looking for him? He could be dead!"

"Easy, easy Vig. I know. And if I ever find the man who did this,
I'll kill him with my bare hands."

"No," said Viggo darkly. "Death's too good for him."

"You really love him, don't you Vig." It wasn't a question.

"Yes. I love him."

* * *

"Yes. I love him."

Viggo, that was Viggo! `He found me, thank God he found me,' thought
Orli. `I'm safe now.' Orlando slowly tried to open his eyes. They
felt stuffy. He wondered who Viggo was talking about. It couldn't be
him, not after … Orlando felt revulsion rip through him like wildfire
at the memory. He pushed it away and concentrated on focusing his
eyes. God he ached. He just wanted to curl up and go back to sleep,
but he knew he had to wake up. He had to get away from the beeping
machines and the tube in his nose. He could feel where the cannula
ran into the back of his hand. He wanted it out. He wanted control of
his body again. And he wanted to see whether he'd be going back to
his own cold apartment, or going home to Viggo's arms.

"Orli," Viggo breathed, noting the recognition in the deep, haunted
eyes. "There you are. We were so worried. You're safe now, angel.
You're safe. It's over." Viggo leaned forward to kiss Orlando,
relieved that he didn't pull away. `At least he knows the difference
between me and that monster', he thought.

"I'm sorry." Orlando's voice was scratchy.

"Baby, you have nothing to be sorry for. It's me who should be sorry.
I didn't protect you. Orli, do you remember what happened? Do you
remember what he did?"

"He didn't… I don't remember. He didn't… did he?" Orlando knew there
was no use in ignoring it. Viggo obviously knew what had happened. He
just wished he hadn't blacked out. Anything could have happened when
he was unconscious. He had to ask, but dreaded the answer. What would
he do if that man, that thing, had raped him?

"No! No baby. Dom stopped him, he stopped him. You're fine."

"I want to go home." Orlando sobbed once as he spoke.

"Soon angel, soon."


Part 11:
Interlude 4

*Liv's POV*

"Wait!"

No shot. I didn't hear a shot. Thank you God, thank you thank you
thank you. Viggo had given in at the very last second. He was now
being pried away from Orli's body. No - not his body, he's not dead.
Not dead. Orli cried out as he was forced from Viggo's embrace. Billy
had been tossed back to us sobbing, and was now enveloped in
Dominic's arms. Ian was fussing over him, reassuring him. I could see
Lij gripping Billy with one hand, the other hand over his face. His
eyes were screwed tightly shut, the furious hold he had on Billy
reassuring him that he was still really there. Viggo was my main
concern. At hearing Orli cry out Viggo tried to call to him. He
sounded so forlorn.

"Orlando, baby, I'm here. I'm still here. I won't leave you."

"Vig, please. Help me…"

I couldn't listen anymore. It hurt too much. I couldn't bear to hear
Orlando in so much pain. I love him so much. Each agonised cry was
like a dagger through my heart. Then Dragos' voice cut across
everything. It was dripping with loathing and contempt.

"Baby? You called him baby? Don't tell me you two are faggots. You
people sicken me. I'm glad I shot the little prick. And you," he
pointed at Viggo, "get to watch him die as your punishment. I guess I
will see you both in hell, you perverts aren't going anywhere else."

Panic gripped me then as Dragos surged forward and grabbed me. I
tried to hold onto John, but my hand slipped from his fingers. Dragos
dragged me to my feet and held me before my friends, between them and
Orli. He stood behind me and I couldn't stop myself from flinching as
he buried his face in my hair and breathed deeply. He grabbed my face
in his hand and turned me to look at him, just as he'd done to Elijah
earlier. And for the fist time, I truly feared for my life. He spoke
again to Viggo.

"Look at her. She's a beautiful woman. How can you look at her every
day, and then go home and bugger that!" He flung his arm furiously in
Orlando's direction.

"Orli's beautiful. To me he's the most beautiful thing in the world."

As much as I love Vig, sometimes I wish he didn't always have to be
so fucking noble. Dragos was seething, pure venom shone from his
eyes. With a cry of rage he tore the safety off his gun once more and
aimed at Orlando.

"No! No please don't! Don't hurt him. I'm begging you, please don't
hurt him." My voice sounded hysterical even to my own ears. I had
t