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[dear-prudence.livejournal.com]

Hi all. Haven't posted anything here for a while Thought this might be of interest, though.

This is my contribution to the LOTRips wedding slashathon.

All the love and thanks in the world and then some to ancabell for being the beta of joy.

Be warned - there is some serious fluff under this cut.

RATING: PG
PAIRING : Viggo/Orlando
TITLE: Untitled
AUTHOR: esso
DISCLAIMER: Lies. Lies from my filthy little mind. I don't know these people.
X-POSTED: in my journal.

Written for sileya

Who wanted to see: Viggo/Orlando, reunion after long separation, planned proposal, romance!
And who didn't want: darkfic, refusals


Orlando was tired. He had spent the morning at the gym, and the
afternoon running around the park with the dogs, so when he pulled up
to the house, and let them out of the car, he nearly missed the small
package that was waiting for him on the doorstep when he went to push
through the door.
When he picked it up, something in his stomach lurched. He knew the
handwriting on the top of the box. It simply said Orlando.
He took it inside and sat with it on the couch, turning it over in his
hands for some time, before peeling the tape away and finding out what
was inside.
He had always known Viggo to be creative and a little eccentric, so
when he didn’t immediately understand what he found inside, he was not
surprised. Instead he put the CD inside and read the letter enclosed
with it.
 
I know it’s been hard. I know I hurt you. I know I should have called.
I also know you are still my dearest love, and I need you.
I’m sorry it took so long for me to understand that. Put it down to me
playing the part of stupid old man too well.
This song reminds me of you. Of us.
 
Orlando listened as the words written on the page, as Viggo’s elegant,
careless handwriting mirrored what drifted from the speakers:
 
“I’m the one who reads your mind
Sees my life in your design
A true companion at your side”
 
Sound familiar? I could always guess what you were thinking... though
I’d kill to know what’s going through your head now.
 
“I’ll give you something
for when I’m not around
to make you smile”
 
Herewith a few things that will hopefully make you smile.
-Vig.
 
Orlando sighed. He had been so angry with Viggo. So hurt. He had cried
till he thought he would die of it. But that had been months ago, and he
had since forced himself into a state of calm - not exactly
contentedness, not happiness... it was a calm quite close to
resignation.
Over the past months, Orlando had managed to convince himself that
their long separation had somehow given him the space he needed to
begin to move on. It wasn’t till he read the package, that he realized how far
from letting go he really was, how close to the surface his love for
Viggo, his heartbreak and longing, still simmered. He took the smaller
package still lying in the bottom of the box. It contained a handful of
polaroids from New Zealand, photographs that had spent so many months
taped to the mirror in his trailer, their corners curling, some with
bits of sticky tape and blue tack still stuck to them, some with
handwritten captions. They were all smiling faces, friends, memories of
when they’d been together...
The phone rang.
 
***
 
After leaving the package on Orlando’s front doorstep, Viggo had gone
back to his hotel in the heart of town. He turned the shower on and let
the water warm up while he undressed. It had been a long day. Airports,
taxis, fast food. He needed to wash it all away. And he needed to do
something that wasn’t just waiting. He’d run this in his head over
and over again, how he hoped it would play out. Leave the package, wait
for the call. Orlando would call.
As the hot water streamed over his body, Viggo’s mind was racing. What
if Orlando hadn’t noticed the package on the doorstep? What if it had
been stolen by some random people on their way past? What if...?
He turned the shower off, hastily grabbed a towel, wrapped it around
his waist and reached for the phone.
He still knew the number by heart.
“This is Orlando.”
“Hi.”
“Vig.?”
“Yeah... ” he could hear the CD playing in the background, “you got my
package, I hear.”
“Yeah, I did...”
“I, uh... I was going to give you space to call, but... I... I’m not
that patient.”
Something that could have been a small laugh echoed down the line. It
made Viggo smile - made him hope.
“Listen, I’d... I’d like to see you. I’m staying in town. Could we have
a drink? Dinner, maybe?”
“Vig... I’m scared.”
“You and me both.”
There was a long silence, Viggo could feel Orlando weighing up the risk
silently.
“You want to come over?”
“Are you sure?”
“No.”
“You want me to come anyway?”
“Yes please.”
 
***
Viggo visited every day. They talked together, sometimes of the past, sometimes of the future, of regrets and hurts, of hopes.
It was weeks before they kissed again and even longer before they made love. When they finally did they each found the other the same.
They still fit together when they held each other, like two pieces of
the same broken object. They each recognized the living proof of the
love they had both thought was lost. Only this time they’d started it from the beginning.
 
***
 
Twelve months later, Viggo sat at the kitchen bench, feeling Henry
looking at him as he traced the patterns in the wooden benchtop with
his forefinger.
"You should probably say whatever it is you want to say, Dad, I have to
get going soon, and it looks like something you'd be better off getting
off your chest."
He stuck the last bite of his peanut butter and jelly sandwich in his
mouth and looked with determined expectation at his father.
"It's not an easy thing to say. I'm just looking for the right
words..."
"You want to give me a hint?"
Viggo chuckled. He loved his son so much. As Henry grew older they were
becoming more like best friends than father and son, and that knowledge
warmed Viggo through. He had somehow managed to raise exactly the kind
of son he'd always hoped to, and more. He took a deep breath,
"It's Orlando..."
"He's okay, isn't he?"
Again Viggo smiled, comforted in the knowledge that his son loved
Orlando dearly, and was beginning to consider him part of their family.
"Yeah, he's fine. It's just..."
"Dad, if you break up with him I'll kill you!"
"Would you let me finish? I'm not breaking up with him. It's kind of
the opposite, actually... I want to marry him. I haven't asked him yet.
I wanted to get your permission first..."
Vig looked directly into his son's eyes as he asked this and saw them
light up with excitement.
"My permission? Could you be more ridiculous, old man? Go and ask him
right now! Now!"
He leapt up from his seat, and started pulling his father towards the
door.
"No, wait, wait. Wait!"
Henry hesitated.
"I want to do it right. It's got to be planned. I want it to be perfect
for him."
"Alright, I guess. Does anyone else know what you're planning?"
"Just you and me."
"Great, so I can't even talk about it to anyone!"
"No, it has to be a secret. Promise me, Henry!"
"I promise - as long as you don't take too long getting around to it."
"I swear I won't."
He hugged his son tightly, so grateful for this, the other amazing man
in his life.
 
***

Orlando knew better now than to be suspicious of Viggo when he wasn’t
forthcoming about his projects. He was confident that sooner or later
Vig would emerge from the studio, covered in paint, or stinking of
chemicals, with that rare glow of accomplishment, and knowing that made
it easier to wait. Loving Viggo was an act of patience, and coming to
understand that had been one of the many things that had helped him to
feel so much more secure in this relationship. They not only loved each
other as they used to, but they truly understood each other now. It was
an understanding that they could never have hoped to have achieved in
the hothouse of a film set with people all around, mad schedules, and
too many demands on precious little time. Now they had real time. Life
together. It made what they had real too.
Orlando was pondering this small epiphany as he poured a drink for
himself early one evening. Viggo had been somewhat elusive lately,
spending long hours in his studio. Tonight he wasn’t home at all.
Orli settled himself down on a stool at the bench to read the paper and
wait for Vig. to come home.
The phone rang.
"This is Orlando."
"Hello, love."
"Vig, where are you? You want me to start dinner?"
"No, I've got something a little better in mind. I'm sending someone
around to pick you up, okay?"
"You want to tell me what this is all about?"
"Not really."
Orlando could hear the smile in his voice.
"See you soon."
They hung up.
Less than a minute later there was a sharp rap at the door. Orlando
opened it to find a chauffeur with a hat and white gloves who showed him
to a stately black car, and opened the door for him.
This was an odd gesture for Viggo. Neither he nor Orlando had
ostentatious tastes - they usually drove around in Orlando's old Jeep.
He felt like a bit of an impostor as they glided smoothly away down the
drive, but he was enjoying it all the same.
 
They'd been driving for about 20 minutes before the driver pulled over
near the Earl Burns Miller Japanese gardens. This was one of Orlando's
favorite places in LA. The trickling water, careful landscaping, and
lush greenery calmed him, and he loved to come and sit here, sometimes
for hours and hours at a time.
They sky was turning that washed out shade of grey-blue near the
horizon, and above his head it was quickly darkening do a deep blue.
At the chauffeur’s instruction he made his way to the gate, and there
he found a trail of pillar candles leading down gravel walkway. He
followed them around a small bend in the path, where he found an easel,
and propped on it was a painting, its bold energetic brushstrokes and
flamboyant use of color made it unmistakably one of Viggo's. It
depicted a male torso, slim, tanned, and with a sun tattoo near its
navel. It held its arms out in the foreground of the painting, and
from its hands blossomed large heavy flowers in a rich shade of red.
It was beautiful. Orlando was captivated by it for a moment, unable to
take his eyes away from the beautiful form - was this how Viggo saw
him? So elegant, glowing with life and beauty...
The trail of candles continued, throwing a warm yellow glow over the
path. He followed them down a slight incline to a place where the path
ran alongside a small water feature in the garden. Water trickled
gently over rocks, and bright orange fish swam in the bubbling pool at
their base. Nearby was another painting, standing on an easel like
before.
At the bottom of the canvas was a face, most obviously Viggo's, turned
upwards towards the top of the painting. There, were the same hands as
had been depicted in the last painting, slender, graceful, and cupped
together, this time with water streaming from them. It was pouring down
onto the face at the bottom of the canvas, rolling over his cheeks,
into his mouth. His hair was glistening with it. Viggo had masterfully
captured the movement of the water. It glinted and sparkled. It was
washing him clean.
Still the candles led on.
The third painting on the path, was very simple - two hands with their
palms pressed together. When Orlando looked beyond the painting, he
could see that the trail of candles lead to a small pergola, the candle
light was brighter there, and as he approached it he could see that
Viggo, now sitting among them, had lit hundreds of candles and arranged
them all around the shelter making it shine with a mesmerizing
brilliancy.
"Hello," he said, as Orlando approached.
"Hello... " he gazed around him, the floor had been laid with soft
fabric and cushions, and a small table sat in the center of it, set for
dinner with a red flower, like the one in Viggo's first painting,
floating in a small bowl. Orlando smiled, loving that part of Viggo
that always had to attend to detail, to continuity, and to poetry. They
ate together - a small meal that Viggo had prepared himself, and sat
quietly enjoying the peacefulness of the night.
"What do you think?" Viggo asked softly.
"I think this is the most romantic dinner ever, and I love you." He
replied, kissing him slowly, with his eyes open, tracing his jaw
lightly with his fingertips.
Viggo smiled.
"So, chauffeurs, candles, dinner... what's the deal?"
"It's a special occasion."
"What kind of special occasion?"
"A very romantic one."
"I know that much already."
"If you stop asking questions, you'll find out the answer."
Orlando laughed "that's very Zen of you, Vig. How apt."
Viggo laughed a small laugh and then they were silent for a moment.
"Did you like the paintings?"
"Yes. Very much."
"I wanted you to see what you mean to me... and what I want for us. I
want us to always be together, Orli, and that's... that's why I want
you to marry me."
 
***
“Well?!”
Henry was waiting up for them when they got home. He already knew what
Orlando’s answer had been because they were both smiling hugely, and
holding each other tightly by the hand, but he wanted to hear them say
it.”
“We’re getting married!”
“Alright!” He launched himself at them in a half tackle, half hug.
“Can I tell people now?”
“As long as we don’t tell them first.”
Henry grabbed his cell out of his pocket,
“Lij? Yeah hi, GUESS WHAT!?”
 
***
The ocean hushed and whished peacefully, in the thickening darkness
that spread like a bruise over the evening sky.
“What a beautiful night for a wedding,” Liv remarked, distractedly
stroking the tiny new bundle in her arms.
It had been warm and clear all day, and the night was set to be balmy
and fragrant, filled with whispering breezes.
“It’s perfect,” Elijah agreed pulling back the baby’s blanket for a
closer look at its tiny fingers.
The trees had been hung with dozens of red and white paper lanterns,
illuminating the secluded bower where the wedding was to take place
with a soft warm light.
Sean hovered around them nervously, “all these lanterns seem a bit
excessive. They seem like an unnecessary fire hazard to me.”
“I’m sure they thought of that, Sean,” Elijah replied fondly, “have you
seen Billy? He was looking a little worried before.”
“He’s okay. He just didn’t know where he was supposed to be when they
get here. I introduced him to the celebrant and she filled him in. Did
you bring your camera?”
Elijah pulled a small silver digital camera from the pocket of his
jacket.
“Oh good. I can’t believe I forgot mine. Today of all days!”
“Dom has his too, and Peter, and Beanie. There’ll be lots of photos.”
 
When two cars pulled up, Billy began to play,
“In this heart lies for you,
A lark born only for you,
Who sings only to you,
My love, my love, my love.”
The clusters of chatting friends and family hushed, and two people got
out of each car.
“I am waiting for you,
For only to adore you,
My heart is for you,
My love, my love, my love.”
Viggo, dressed in a wine red kaftan-style shirt, dark brown linen
pants, and sandals was accompanied by Henry, who whispered a few final
words of encouragement into his father’s ear, then took him by the arm.
“I will have you with me,
In my arms only,
For you are only,
My love, my love, my love.”
Orlando, in a loose, white, open necked shirt and fawn colored pants,
was accompanied by Maya. They joined Viggo and Henry and together they
solemnly approached the celebrant who stood to her feet and began,
"Welcome, friends, family, loved ones, to a very special ceremony.
We’re here this evening, to join two people in the sacred bond of
marriage.
I have taken some time to get to know Viggo an Orlando in the weeks
leading up to this special day. I know that they stand before me, two
strong, brave, passionate people, with their hearts full of love for
each other. I know that they are absolutely committed to each other,
and that is what they come here to demonstrate today - commitment,
love, and a mutual hope for a future together.
Like all of us, they will face hardships and struggles in their lives.
They will experience sadness, grief, and hurt, but the solemn oath they
take here, before you today, will resonate through their future,
keeping them strong in each other.
They will also have times of great happiness together, for there is no
happiness in life equal to that of loving and being loved. Viggo,
Orlando, are you ready to make these vows of love?”
“We are.”
“Viggo, will you begin?”
Viggo turned to Orlando, and took both his hands. His voice was quiet
and strong, and as always his words were measured and heartfelt,
"Orlando, my love, my joy, my muse. I love you wholly and completely,
with my body, my heart, and my soul.
I swear to be strong and constant. To always love you, always protect
you, always care for you.
This is my most solemn oath, from now till the end of my life."
He took a simple platinum wedding band from his pocket, fumbled with it
slightly - the only betrayal of his nervousness - and slipped it onto
Orlando’s finger.
“Orlando, would you like to make your vow?”
“I would.
Viggo, you have been my love, my strength, my hope for the future. You
have encouraged, inspired, loved, and supported me through all things.
I swear here today, before our friends and family, that I will always
do the same for you - in sickness and in health, in good times and in
bad, till death parts us."
He took a matching band from his own pocket, and placed it reverently
on Viggo’s hand, then spontaneously kissed it.
“Through the vows you have made today, the exchanging of rings, and by
the power vested in me by the state of California, I now pronounce you
married. Congratulations!”
There was an eruption of applause and cheering from all the assembled
guests, and the newly wedded couple kissed each other for the first
time as the happiest of husbands.