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fellowshippers2006-01-06 08:47 pm
saklani2.livejournal.com) wrote in fellowshippers2006-01-06 08:47 pm
New: Will You Remember? 9/9 (LOTRps Viggo/Elijah) [NC-17]
Title: Will You Remember
Author: Saklani (saklani@wildmail.com) and Wushu
Codes: Viggo/Elijah
Rating: NC-17
Beta: Wymsie *covers her with kisses*
Dedicated to:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
longshanks05
Disclaimer:We do not own these men, or anything else mentioned here. We are not looking to make money from this... God forbid. And We are NOT them nor is what we put down here real.
Summary: An artist and photographer strikes up an unlikely partnership with a prostitute.
Author's Notes: This story was inspired by a line in one of Curthose's lovely Viggo/Elijah fictions. I would tell you which line, but that would give away a lot of plot, so I'm holding out on everyone. This is definitely an AU with large liberties taken with both men. Please forgive us our trespasses. I hope you enjoy!
Sweetheart, sweetheart, sweetheart,
Though our paths may sever,
To life's last faint ember,
Will you remember?
Hours later, Elijah woke to a dark room, panting at the rush of memories that flooded his mind. He remembered. For the first time, he remembered. Remembered walking back to his shoe box of an apartment, cutting through the alleyway because he was so cold and just wanted to get home. Remembered the large menacing man who stopped him. Remembered the scuffle and being dragged into an apartment. Remembered being raped. Remembered the pain and anger... the humiliation. Remembered why his dreams were of watching on. He had been looking into a mirror.
And he remembered the aftermath.
And it was that, and that alone, that brought tears to his eyes as he gazed at Viggo. Because there was no way they could be together, now that he remembered. For the first, and only, time, Elijah had found love, and that love was doomed. And for that love, he cried.
Viggo heard someone crying in the happiness of his dreams, and it shattered them so completely, he woke up within a second and looked at Elijah with large, aware eyes. He instantly thought of the dreams that had been plaguing his new lover and wrapped his arms tightly around the small frame. "Elijah, its all right. I'm here, love."
Elijah wrapped himself around Viggo and wept. He cried for the future, the one he just started to hope for, that was crashing down around them, although Viggo did not know it. And he did not know how to tell him, did not even know if it was... permitted. So he clung to Viggo, crying and whispering over and over, "I love you."
Viggo held him back, worried and frightened by the uncontrollable tears. He soothed and hushed with his words and his hands and his heart, but nothing seemed to help. "What is the matter, my love?" he pleaded.
Elijah's mind raced as he searched for a way to explain, to make Viggo understand. Without much thought, the story of his attack, of his rape, fell from Elijah's lips, "I- I was walking home. After- after work. It... was a cold night... no johns... I decided to go home. I cut through an alleyway at the back of my apartment block... There- there was this guy..."
Viggo almost asked him to stop because he suddenly wondered if he could actually hear this without falling apart himself. Still, he held on to Elijah, stroking his back gently. "Yes, love?"
"He- he attacked me... I tried to fight, but... he- he was bigger than even you. Much bigger than me." He trembled, pressing closer and taking a deep breath. "He dragged me into an apartment... I think he hit me on the head... things were pretty fuzzy there for a while..." Although tears fell down his cheeks, his voice was surprisingly calm.
Viggo kissed away tears, feeling his own scorch his cheeks with hot tracks. He shook in anger and sorrow and love for his Elijah. The thought of anyone hurting his Elijah made Viggo's pain notch up toward beyond unbearable.
Elijah looked down at Viggo, and it made him more upset than his memories. So, he leaned down and pressed soft kisses to Viggo's face, trying to comfort him without words.
Viggo felt ashamed at Elijah's courage- that he tried to comfort Viggo, when it was he who had truly been hurt. He rubbed his cheek against Elijah's whispering, "I love you so much... I always will, my Elijah."
Elijah answered in an almost desperate whisper, "And I love you, my Viggo, unto death and beyond."
Something sharp tugged at Viggo's breastbone, a despair that countered the feeling of love. "What- what makes you say it like that, my love?"
"Because it is true." Elijah's answer was simple and his deepest truth.
Viggo stroked his cheek with fingers that shook slightly. " I know that, my Elijah. I love you the same." He pressed a soft kiss to the small mouth and shut his eyes.
"Viggo... please..." Elijah could almost feel Viggo's pain and continued his caresses, soft and lovingly, trying to soothe Viggo with his touch.
Opening his eyes, which glistened with moisture, Viggo whispered, "Why am I so afraid, Elijah? I wasn't before."
Elijah's heart broke in that moment, and he damned himself for Viggo's pain- the pain that would grow when the full story came to light. He damned every god responsible for allowing him to cause his Viggo pain. "I'm so sorry, Viggo. I- I shouldn't have... I'm sorry... so, so sorry."
"Don't be sorry," Viggo said, his voice finding strength again. "I may be scared, but I'm not sorry. I love you. Always. And I can't be sad or sorry for that." He pulled Elijah into a deep, passionate kiss, desperate to let him know that whatever happened, he was glad for it all.
Elijah responded to the kiss with all his passion, all the love and desire he felt, and the need to be close to Viggo, to imprint Viggo on his every sense, to hold these few moments forever.
Parting, Viggo lay quietly under his lover, holding him and pressing kisses to his skin as he moved his head lazily. He wanted this morning to never end, for it to stretch on until the world's destruction or beyond.
"Viggo..." Shaking his head, Elijah abandoned the words he could not find, the things he could not express, the rest of the story he could not tell and kissed Viggo again.
Viggo whispered softly into his ear, "Elijah, I want to know what you feel like inside me. I want to be claimed by you." He hoped the request did not sound sordid, but reverent, as he intended. He needed this, longed for it with every fiber of his being.
The request surprised Elijah, and he blushed a little as he made a whispered confession into Viggo's ear, "I've... never..."
Viggo smiled up at him, eyes warm with love. "Doesn't matter, my Elijah. It will be between us." He eased his legs open, shamelessly asking with his body.
"You amaze me, Viggo..." Elijah kissed him deeply, trying to use every touch of their bodies, their lips, their skin, as a way to express his love.
"Not so very amazing," Viggo answered. "I just love you." He reached between them to stroke Elijah's soft belly, watching his eyes carefully. "Your love back, that's what's amazing."
Elijah moaned, in pleasure at the touch to his belly, and at Viggo's words, both inspiring a warm glow deep inside him, and tendrils of pleasure connected to his groin. "I- I find that you love me is the amazing part."
"Then we're even," Viggo said with a smile. He pushed away all his fears, trying to focus only on the now. "Love me, Elijah."
"I do." Elijah said nothing more, just lowered his mouth to Viggo's neck and started kissing and caressing, moving over Viggo's neck and down onto his chest slowly.
Arching, Viggo gave himself completely to Elijah, letting him control every movement. He reacted to every touch, every kiss with abandon that made his heart sing and his limbs ache with longing. Every nerve came alive and demanded attention from the roving hands and lips that surely and knowingly drove him out of his mind.
It seemed to take eons to reach Viggo's groin, and Elijah could not have been more pleased about it, using every bit of skill he had to bring Viggo all the pleasure he could. This pleasure, this moment, this time was the only gift he had to give, and he gave it unstintingly. Finally, he found himself between Viggo's thighs, the fingers of one hand lubed and the tip of one circling the entrance to Viggo's body.
Viggo groaned at the intrusion, but spread his legs further apart, wanting the pain and the pleasure he knew would soon follow. His eyes fluttered open, lifting to gaze at Elijah for a long moment, before his head falls back again. "More... please."
Elijah considered Viggo's words before discarding them. He wanted to go at his own pace, and make sure that he did not hurt Viggo at all. So his finger continued to stroke and circle, working to relax the tight ring of muscle guarding the entrance into Viggo's body, finally pushing the slender finger in about half way to his first knuckle.
"Oh! More... more!" Viggo pushed up, swallowing the rest of the finger into his body. He sighed happily at the feeling, working to bring the digit in even further if possible. His hands found a purchase in the sheets and twined them around into intricate patterns.
Elijah watched his finger disappearing into Viggo's body with a ragged moan. His eyes fell half closed at the tight warmth around his finger, imaging it around other parts. He shuddered before getting control of himself again.
Viggo sighed several times in rapid succession and then wriggled hard against Elijah's hand. He deliberately clenched his muscles, trying to indicate how much room there was inside him. All he could think of was Elijah buried inside, moving above him and calling out his name in his sweet voice.
"You are an eager one aren't you, Vig?" Amusement and a great deal of affection threaded though Elijah's voice, as he carefully worked a second finger into Viggo's body.
"Yessss," Viggo hissed. He shivered as the second finger stretched him so intimately, opening him further for his lover. Unwilling to do nothing, Viggo unlatched one hand from its grip on the sheets and reached out blindly for Elijah. "Want this so much."
Elijah took Viggo's hand with his free one bringing it up to cup his cheek, pressing kisses to the sweat damped skin. He started moving his fingers in and out of Viggo's body, fingers pressing in deeply, searching for and finding Viggo's prostrate and stroking it firmly.
All thoughts flew out of Viggo's mind as those clever fingers found his most sensitive spot and stroked him toward oblivion. His body acted on pure feeling alone, arching desperately and angling itself over and over to help keep the stimulation going. His hand dropped from Elijah's cheek to re-tangle itself into the sheets and yank until the seams started to give.
Elijah could not help but groan at the amazing sight Viggo made. "So beautiful..." Elijah's words were almost worshiping, even as his fingers got to work, scissoring slightly, stretching and preparing Viggo more aggressively than before, but still with the greatest care.
Head thrown back, Viggo barely registered Elijah's words, though some part of him flushed deeply in response. Physically, the fingers buried inside him caused everything else in the world to recede until the feeling of them moving and stretching overwhelmed him. "Now, Elijah," he begged. "Now, before I can stand no more."
Elijah's own trembling convinced him as much as Viggo's words that now was the right time. He pulled his fingers from Viggo's body carefully. He quickly prepared himself, his motions deliberately to fast and slightly unpleasant to help him regain some control, as he did not want to spill into Viggo with the first thrust. Positioning himself, he very slowly and just as carefully, pushed himself into Viggo's prepared body, a loud moan escaping his lips as he sunk into delicious, tight warmth.
Gripping Elijah tightly inside, Viggo pushed himself into the impalement, desperate to take in everything he could. "I love you," he whispered, as they both paused, waiting to get used to the feeling. After a moment, he rocked gently against Elijah, urging him to move.
Elijah was in heaven- a bliss more profound than anything he ever felt before. "I love you, Viggo..." He realized he did not even know Viggo's full name, the inane thought making him smile before he groaned. Unable to deny either of them, he started moving slowly, pulling out before thrusting back into Viggo's body several times.
Viggo just reacted in mindless pleasure to each thrust. His stronger form made the bed rock and shake with each movement. With every breath, he cried his love for Elijah, the pleasure ten fold- twenty- an infinite amount more than he ever knew before.
Although neither of them knew it, their hearts and bodies moved with a synchronicity most people never knew, as if they shared the same mind, the same heart and the same soul- one perfect whole. Elijah called out his own love for Viggo over and over, sometimes aloud, sometimes with just his heart. As his bliss mounted, Elijah started losing his control, thrusting more rapidly, and with more force into Viggo.
Viggo's release started as a powerful, almost painful, glow near his heart that blossomed throughout his body. When Elijah's thrusts lost all semblance of rhythm, when he drove deepest into Viggo, he felt it all the way into his mind. His orgasm hit him with the force of a runaway train, as he screamed Elijah's name until his throat burned raw.
Elijah could not keep his control any longer, the sweet sound of his name on Viggo's lips, the amazing sight of Viggo lost in his pleasure, the incredible feelings from his own body, all gathered into one moment of perfection. He screamed, calling out to Viggo as his pleasure flooded over him, falling onto Viggo's chest, and catching Viggo's lips for a long kiss as pleasure shuddered through his body.
Viggo gripped Elijah tightly as his body shuddered through pleasurable aftershocks. "I have never felt that way before," he whispered into the stillness. He lifted his weary head to press a series of small kisses on Elijah's head and neck. "I love you."
Elijah felt a tugging on his soul, the sweetest pain he ever felt. "I haven't either, my Viggo. I... you amaze me... we amaze me." '
"That nobody else found you before me and loved you is what amazes me," Viggo said seriously, lifting his head to look Elijah in the eye. "You give so much to me... I can scarcely believe I existed before you came into my life."
Elijah caressed Viggo's face with two small hands, letting his full body weight rest on Viggo. He searched for the words to say what he wanted to, what he needed to tell Viggo before he had to go. He could feel the faintest tugging, a sensation that would grow until he could deny it no longer, letting him know how limited their time was. "I find it amazing that no one snapped you up, Viggo."
"I was waiting," Viggo said with a faint smile, "but I did not know it until I met you."
"I've waited my whole life for you..." Elijah sighed, aware of the irony of the statement, but also its complete truth.
"I'm sorry I took so long," Viggo said, squeezing him tightly.
Elijah had no answer for that, so he pressed a soft kiss to Viggo's lips before carefully pulling out of him. He padded to the bathroom, cleaning up and coming back with a dampened towel, using it to clean Viggo up, before snuggling back into his lover and the sheets.
Tiredly, Viggo wrapped his arms around Elijah and pulled him close. "I'll make it up to you later," he murmured. "I promise, my Elijah."
"I know, my love." Snuggling into Viggo, Elijah relaxed as much as he could, letting the relaxation of his muscles lead Viggo to believe he was falling asleep. Elijah had no intention of falling asleep, but he was too much of a coward to keep Viggo awake, knowing the pain of his leaving would break them both.
Sleep beckoned, but Viggo fought it off for a few more moments, wanting to hold his lover. His eyes began to droop however, and he could not stifle a yawn against warm skin.
Elijah whispered suddenly, softly against Viggo's shoulder, "Wood... Elijah Jordan Wood."
"Elijah Jordan Wood." Drifting off into a pleasant sated sleep that he knew would be full of dreams of blue eyes, Viggo whispered-sang, "I will remember."
"I hope so." It was the softest whisper, full of love and hope, although a part of Elijah damned himself for his selfish desire to have Viggo remember him, knowing his leaving would bequeath Viggo nothing but sorrow.
As soon as Elijah was sure Viggo was asleep, his tears fell freely, although silently, from blue eyes. Laying where he could see Viggo's face, Elijah's eyes never looked away from his lover, trying to memorize the beloved features. His hands ghosted over Viggo's arms and chest as Elijah desperately tried to imprint on his mind and senses the feel, the texture and warmth of Viggo's skin. He tried to ensure no matter how long their parting, he would not forget the slightest thing about the amazing man he loved.
The tugging on his soul changed from the mildest sensation, easily ignored, to near pain from his fighting, from his overwhelming desire to stay with Viggo. No matter how hard he tried, no matter how he fought with everything inside him, this battle, he could not win.
As the night turned to day, and the birds started to sing the morning to the world, Elijah whispered in a desperately fierce voice, "Don't close yourself off to other loves. Please be happy, live long and fully, my beloved artist, knowing that I will be there, at the end." His voice grew fiercer, even as his body started to fade away, cracking with emotions, "Remember me Viggo. Remember that for a few sweet days, you loved a blue eyed boy and were loved in return. I swear, I will watch over you. I will wait for you and if you still want me, when we meet again, I will be yours for the having."
He reached out with a transparent hand, trying to touch Viggo one last time, but his fingers passed through Viggo skin, unable to touch the living world. "I love you."
And he was gone, like a breath of air- swept into the world of insubstantial things, as all ghosts go, once they accept their death and move on.
**********
Viggo woke up slowly, hand groping across the sheets for something he knew should be there. Opening his eyes and lifting his head, Viggo searched the bed for a groggy moment before his heart and mind woke up and remembered fully.
"Elijah?" he whispered into the cold, still morning. He crawled out from under the sheets, which still smelled of their lovemaking and dragged a robe over his nakedness. "Elijah?!" he called louder. He headed for the bathroom, his bare feet barely registering the cold boards underneath them. Opening the door, he peered into the empty room.
"Elijah?"
Something ugly and frightened began to squirm in his heart and belly. Turning from the bathroom, he kept himself from running to the other bedroom by the sheerest force of will.
"Elijah?"
He opened the door and surveyed the bed, messed and missing covers from the night before. Remembering Elijah's nightmares, a line of what his lover told him turned his blood to ice within his veins- "He attacked me... I tried to fight, but... he..."
Viggo ran to where Elijah had left his things and found nothing. "No! What!? Elijah!?" The last word was a near scream into the morning, and birds outside flew from their perches in fear.
Tearing to the front door, Viggo threw it open, unaware of the frigid air that hit his limbs. "Elijah!?"
He stumbled out, still yelling with every breath that plumed from his mouth. "Elijah!"
Passing by his truck un-noticing, Viggo headed for the path they had taken together but a few days ago.
"Elijah!? Please, where are you?"
He began to climb the path and then race up it, not knowing what he was doing or where he was going, only knowing that he had to find Elijah... The familiar trees seemed to menace him, laugh at him, as he moved more and more wildly through them, calling, "Elijah!"
When some local hikers found Viggo, four hours later, curled up and feverish at the top of the trail, they could only get one word out of him- "Elijah."
**********
In the end, what pulled Viggo out of his illness and back into the light was Henry. No other pleas reached him, nor medicines touched his fever, but when his son wept on his hospital bed and begged his father to come back, Viggo could not refuse. So, he drifted back to life and tried to make himself better for the ones who cared about him. But always the memory of those few hours holding on to his blue-eyed lover held him back. He shared the photographs with his closest friends, his agent and finally his son, but only Henry believed him. Eventually, Viggo began to doubt the reality of his own memories and fell deeper into despair. For all the sorrow of having lost his Elijah, the thought of his never existing at all felt a million times worse.
He took to haunting the places they had shared in those few days- the street where Elijah first shimmied over to the truck and where other prostitutes still sauntered. He returned to the small museum, taking photographs of the empty bed, the lonely dolphin and the willow whose weeping now mocked as it mirrored his own state. He even tried to return to the cabin, but the first glimpse of its walls crushed his heart so utterly that he nearly drove his truck into the nearest tree to stop the pain.
Eventually, his neglect of himself took a staunch toll on his body. He became a shadow of his former self- thin, gaunt and ghastly pale. Even when Henry moved in to live with him permanently, Viggo could not find the will to take better care of himself. It was gone, vanished as suddenly as the one who still owned his very soul.
One morning, some indistinguishable time later, Viggo woke up with a name on his lips, the same name he always woke up with, but this time, it seemed to have a purpose. "Elijah Jordan Wood," he muttered, heading for the phone book. He flipped it to the Ws and studied them carefully. One name made him pause, something quiet and sure stirring inside him. "Rose Wood."
He traced the address with his forefinger and then without another thought, grabbed his keys, his photographs of Elijah and headed for the truck. Driving like the mad man he had become, he soon found himself in a senior living complex. After a rather strained conversation with one of the nurses, he was finally led to the small assisted quarters of Rose Wood. He knocked on the door and waited.
The woman who opened the door looked at Viggo with curious eyes. Curious blue eyes of astounding color and shape, which Viggo had seen once before. "Hello?"
Swallowing hard, Viggo asked in a tremulous voice, "Are you the grandmother of Elijah Jordan Wood?"
The curiosity dimmed into deep grief, and Rose gasped, her hand coming up to hold the silver locket hanging from a chain around her neck. "I-" She swallowed before nodding, "Elijah was my grandson, yes. Why? Are- are you from the police?"
"No... I- I loved him," Viggo said, his voice cracking on the word love. His eyes suddenly widened as the word police registered in his mind. "Police? What- what happened to him?"
"You- you knew Elijah?" Her gaze assessed him for a moment before she took a leap of faith, trusting her instincts. She shuffled back from the door, in obvious pain as she moved. "Come in and sit down, please. I can't stand for too long."
Following her, Viggo shut the door quietly and stood awkwardly in the room. "Yes, I knew him. He- he meant- means the world to me. Since I lost him, I- well, I've become what you now see." His hands fumbled with the packet of photographs.
Rose waved him to a chair, as she lowered herself into one, her eyes never leaving him as she sat, "Please sit down Mr..." She let her voice trail away, hoping he would fill in the rest.
"Viggo," he said softly, sitting down. "My name is Viggo."
"I don't remember Elijah ever speaking of you, but I can see that you cared about my grandson, so I will tell you what I can. This- this is not easy for me, so please understand if I get emotional." She looked down at her hands, curled around each other in her lap. "Several months ago, El- Elijah... he..." She took a deep breath before looking up at Viggo. "I'm sorry, but he's gone. He- he was... he's dead." When she finally managed to say the words, her voice crackled with sorrow.
"Months?" Viggo gasped, his hands clenching. "But that's not possible. I met him on All Hollow's Eve... he was alive!" Viggo jumped to his feet, his overwrought mind near to complete meltdown. "I held him... kissed him..." He held out the photographs to her. "I took photographs of him. Look, some of them have the date on them... he was there!"
She took the photos with a trembling hand, wondering if she had done the wrong thing in letting him into her home. As soon as she looked at the first one, she knew, down to her very core, that he was telling the truth. "I- I believe you, but- but Elijah did die. I buried him on a sunny summer afternoon last June. He- he was murdered..." Her voice broke completely, and she could not continue, could not describe the things the police had told her.
"Oh God," Viggo gasped, falling back into the chair. He clutched at his face with his hands, tears rolling from his eyes. "He told me... he remembered... he remembered being killed." The dam broke, and Viggo sobbed again into the circles of his fists, unable to stop the torrent that shook his body. He believed now- Elijah was dead and had been dead when they met.
Her maternal instincts raised by the man sobbing in her living room, Rose got up and moved to Viggo's side, sitting beside him and taking this stranger, who was grieved for her grandson so painfully, into her arms.
"I'm sorry," Viggo said finally in a weak voice. "I know you must grieve for him as well. I do not wish to force myself upon your kindness. Elijah once told me how much he loved you. You were the one person in the world who always loved him." He took a deep, shuddering breath. "I loved him the same way. I always will."
"Grief is an old friend of mine. When you get to my age, he is a constant companion. Do not be sorry for showing me how important my Elijah was to you. But please... I don't understand... you said you met him on All Hallows Eve... he'd been- been gone for some time by then..."
"He was waiting for me," Viggo whispered with conviction. "He was waiting to be loved."
"Elijah spent his life looking for love. He accepted himself during that search, something his parents still cannot forgive him for... I can believe that he was waiting for someone to love, unable to pass on until he found it... you."
Viggo managed the faintest smile. "I'm glad he waited for me. I hope he'll wait for me again, wherever he is now."
"Did he love you as fiercely as you love him? For if he loved you with half I strength I know was within him, he will wait for you for as long as it takes." She smiled back at Viggo, offering him a box of tissues.
Viggo took a few tissues, wiping off the moisture from his cheeks. "I would like to believe he did. We only had a short time together, but he always made it clear with his words and his actions..." Viggo touched the packet of photographs. "May I see where he is buried?"
"Of course..." Getting up, she walked over to a writing desk tucked away in a corner of the room, took a piece of paper with a plot number and directions out and brought it back to Viggo. "Here."
Taking it from her, Viggo grasped her frail hand in his own weakened one. "I know Elijah would not have wanted you to be alone. May I visit you? I have a son, Henry. Until now, he was the only one who believed me, did not think I lost my sanity. He would be happy to meet you, and I want him to know someone who knew Elijah."
Rose smiled and nodded. "I would be honored to have both of you visit me. I- I have been lonely since Elijah... his parents never approved of me, and when I did not support them when it came to Elijah... well, I have not seen them since."
"You'll be good for me, as well," Viggo admitted, softly. He stared down at his feet, suddenly ashamed of his disheveled and sickened appearance. "I want to know all about Elijah- his childhood, his dreams, his loves... all the things he never got time to tell me."
"I think first, you need to take care of yourself. It would break Elijah's heart to see you so unhappy." Rose patted Viggo's shoulder lightly. "Why don't you come back on Sunday for lunch? I will get out all the photos I have of Elijah and tell you ever story I can. And in the mean time, you will take care of yourself."
"I'd like that," Viggo said, standing up. Impulsively, he leaned down and hugged the small framed woman. "And I promise to take better care of myself. For him... and for me."
"Then I will see you Sunday, say... eleven o'clock?" Rose hugged Viggo back, as tightly as she could, before linking their arms and walking with him to the door. "Now, you need to wrap yourself around several good meals and nights of good sleep between now and then."
"I will," Viggo said. "And I'll be here at eleven on Sunday. " He smiled and looked into the blue eyes, so familiar and yet so different. "I promise."
**********
A warm wind ruffled Viggo's hair as he made his way through the graveyard toward the small marker he knew so well. He carried a large, wrapped bundle under one arm and a single yellow rose in the other. As he reached the stone marked very plainly- Elijah Jordan Wood- Viggo knelt down in the grass beside it.
"It's done, Elijah, the way I told you it would be. A lot of working and reworking, but it came together in the end. I'm sorry to have kept you waiting these few years... I seem to be good at keeping you waiting."
He opened the brown paper and revealed a book of photographs entitled, "Will You Remember." Elijah, sitting in the tree that framed forever, beamed off the cover.
"You've made me rich, Elijah, which is why I could not get here sooner. Book signings, photograph sessions, talk shows... its all a bit much for me to comprehend. But it's you they love, not my work. They want to know how I made you look so ethereal, so unearthly, and all I can do is laugh. People tell me they weep at your story, but none of them believe it, except Henry. We know the truth, he and I. He never asks me why I don't try to find someone new... I love him the more for understanding."
Viggo ran a hand threw his hair, noting with a small smile the gray strands now interweaving with the brown. He glanced around him, an older middle-aged man, his features attractive and serene, as if the cares of the world no longer bothered him. "Please say hi to your grandmother for me. Henry and I miss her.... and I miss you. I know you're still with me, but I miss you anyway. I love you, Elijah."
He set the book on the stone, propping it up a little. With a sigh and a small kiss to the air, he stood up and made his slow way back to the entrance, where Henry waited for him. As he neared the gates, the breeze blew again. The pages of the book fell open, blowing gently until they stopped on a page with the inscribed words-
'Til life's last faint ember, I will remember.
AUTHOR'S NOTE: Dear lovely readers, we wanted to say a few words at the end of this tale for all of you who got through it all. First of all, thank you for your patience and kindness in reading and FBing WYR. Secondly, please do not kill us! The very premise of this fiction was that Elijah was a ghost when Viggo met him, but did not realize until the very end. There are scattered hints throughout the story, but we wanted to keep everyone in the dark til this end chapter. It was for this purpose that we did not post the usual Deathfic warning that often accopmanies such stories. We did not want in any way to ruin the ending, so we choose to keep quiet and perhaps upset some people. I apologize to anyone we may have upset and hope you understand our reasons.
Thank you for reading, and we hope you will continue to read our fiction! We promise some happier stuff soon!
Emma and Saklani
Author: Saklani (saklani@wildmail.com) and Wushu
Codes: Viggo/Elijah
Rating: NC-17
Beta: Wymsie *covers her with kisses*
Dedicated to:
longshanks05Disclaimer:We do not own these men, or anything else mentioned here. We are not looking to make money from this... God forbid. And We are NOT them nor is what we put down here real.
Summary: An artist and photographer strikes up an unlikely partnership with a prostitute.
Author's Notes: This story was inspired by a line in one of Curthose's lovely Viggo/Elijah fictions. I would tell you which line, but that would give away a lot of plot, so I'm holding out on everyone. This is definitely an AU with large liberties taken with both men. Please forgive us our trespasses. I hope you enjoy!
Sweetheart, sweetheart, sweetheart,
Though our paths may sever,
To life's last faint ember,
Will you remember?
Hours later, Elijah woke to a dark room, panting at the rush of memories that flooded his mind. He remembered. For the first time, he remembered. Remembered walking back to his shoe box of an apartment, cutting through the alleyway because he was so cold and just wanted to get home. Remembered the large menacing man who stopped him. Remembered the scuffle and being dragged into an apartment. Remembered being raped. Remembered the pain and anger... the humiliation. Remembered why his dreams were of watching on. He had been looking into a mirror.
And he remembered the aftermath.
And it was that, and that alone, that brought tears to his eyes as he gazed at Viggo. Because there was no way they could be together, now that he remembered. For the first, and only, time, Elijah had found love, and that love was doomed. And for that love, he cried.
Viggo heard someone crying in the happiness of his dreams, and it shattered them so completely, he woke up within a second and looked at Elijah with large, aware eyes. He instantly thought of the dreams that had been plaguing his new lover and wrapped his arms tightly around the small frame. "Elijah, its all right. I'm here, love."
Elijah wrapped himself around Viggo and wept. He cried for the future, the one he just started to hope for, that was crashing down around them, although Viggo did not know it. And he did not know how to tell him, did not even know if it was... permitted. So he clung to Viggo, crying and whispering over and over, "I love you."
Viggo held him back, worried and frightened by the uncontrollable tears. He soothed and hushed with his words and his hands and his heart, but nothing seemed to help. "What is the matter, my love?" he pleaded.
Elijah's mind raced as he searched for a way to explain, to make Viggo understand. Without much thought, the story of his attack, of his rape, fell from Elijah's lips, "I- I was walking home. After- after work. It... was a cold night... no johns... I decided to go home. I cut through an alleyway at the back of my apartment block... There- there was this guy..."
Viggo almost asked him to stop because he suddenly wondered if he could actually hear this without falling apart himself. Still, he held on to Elijah, stroking his back gently. "Yes, love?"
"He- he attacked me... I tried to fight, but... he- he was bigger than even you. Much bigger than me." He trembled, pressing closer and taking a deep breath. "He dragged me into an apartment... I think he hit me on the head... things were pretty fuzzy there for a while..." Although tears fell down his cheeks, his voice was surprisingly calm.
Viggo kissed away tears, feeling his own scorch his cheeks with hot tracks. He shook in anger and sorrow and love for his Elijah. The thought of anyone hurting his Elijah made Viggo's pain notch up toward beyond unbearable.
Elijah looked down at Viggo, and it made him more upset than his memories. So, he leaned down and pressed soft kisses to Viggo's face, trying to comfort him without words.
Viggo felt ashamed at Elijah's courage- that he tried to comfort Viggo, when it was he who had truly been hurt. He rubbed his cheek against Elijah's whispering, "I love you so much... I always will, my Elijah."
Elijah answered in an almost desperate whisper, "And I love you, my Viggo, unto death and beyond."
Something sharp tugged at Viggo's breastbone, a despair that countered the feeling of love. "What- what makes you say it like that, my love?"
"Because it is true." Elijah's answer was simple and his deepest truth.
Viggo stroked his cheek with fingers that shook slightly. " I know that, my Elijah. I love you the same." He pressed a soft kiss to the small mouth and shut his eyes.
"Viggo... please..." Elijah could almost feel Viggo's pain and continued his caresses, soft and lovingly, trying to soothe Viggo with his touch.
Opening his eyes, which glistened with moisture, Viggo whispered, "Why am I so afraid, Elijah? I wasn't before."
Elijah's heart broke in that moment, and he damned himself for Viggo's pain- the pain that would grow when the full story came to light. He damned every god responsible for allowing him to cause his Viggo pain. "I'm so sorry, Viggo. I- I shouldn't have... I'm sorry... so, so sorry."
"Don't be sorry," Viggo said, his voice finding strength again. "I may be scared, but I'm not sorry. I love you. Always. And I can't be sad or sorry for that." He pulled Elijah into a deep, passionate kiss, desperate to let him know that whatever happened, he was glad for it all.
Elijah responded to the kiss with all his passion, all the love and desire he felt, and the need to be close to Viggo, to imprint Viggo on his every sense, to hold these few moments forever.
Parting, Viggo lay quietly under his lover, holding him and pressing kisses to his skin as he moved his head lazily. He wanted this morning to never end, for it to stretch on until the world's destruction or beyond.
"Viggo..." Shaking his head, Elijah abandoned the words he could not find, the things he could not express, the rest of the story he could not tell and kissed Viggo again.
Viggo whispered softly into his ear, "Elijah, I want to know what you feel like inside me. I want to be claimed by you." He hoped the request did not sound sordid, but reverent, as he intended. He needed this, longed for it with every fiber of his being.
The request surprised Elijah, and he blushed a little as he made a whispered confession into Viggo's ear, "I've... never..."
Viggo smiled up at him, eyes warm with love. "Doesn't matter, my Elijah. It will be between us." He eased his legs open, shamelessly asking with his body.
"You amaze me, Viggo..." Elijah kissed him deeply, trying to use every touch of their bodies, their lips, their skin, as a way to express his love.
"Not so very amazing," Viggo answered. "I just love you." He reached between them to stroke Elijah's soft belly, watching his eyes carefully. "Your love back, that's what's amazing."
Elijah moaned, in pleasure at the touch to his belly, and at Viggo's words, both inspiring a warm glow deep inside him, and tendrils of pleasure connected to his groin. "I- I find that you love me is the amazing part."
"Then we're even," Viggo said with a smile. He pushed away all his fears, trying to focus only on the now. "Love me, Elijah."
"I do." Elijah said nothing more, just lowered his mouth to Viggo's neck and started kissing and caressing, moving over Viggo's neck and down onto his chest slowly.
Arching, Viggo gave himself completely to Elijah, letting him control every movement. He reacted to every touch, every kiss with abandon that made his heart sing and his limbs ache with longing. Every nerve came alive and demanded attention from the roving hands and lips that surely and knowingly drove him out of his mind.
It seemed to take eons to reach Viggo's groin, and Elijah could not have been more pleased about it, using every bit of skill he had to bring Viggo all the pleasure he could. This pleasure, this moment, this time was the only gift he had to give, and he gave it unstintingly. Finally, he found himself between Viggo's thighs, the fingers of one hand lubed and the tip of one circling the entrance to Viggo's body.
Viggo groaned at the intrusion, but spread his legs further apart, wanting the pain and the pleasure he knew would soon follow. His eyes fluttered open, lifting to gaze at Elijah for a long moment, before his head falls back again. "More... please."
Elijah considered Viggo's words before discarding them. He wanted to go at his own pace, and make sure that he did not hurt Viggo at all. So his finger continued to stroke and circle, working to relax the tight ring of muscle guarding the entrance into Viggo's body, finally pushing the slender finger in about half way to his first knuckle.
"Oh! More... more!" Viggo pushed up, swallowing the rest of the finger into his body. He sighed happily at the feeling, working to bring the digit in even further if possible. His hands found a purchase in the sheets and twined them around into intricate patterns.
Elijah watched his finger disappearing into Viggo's body with a ragged moan. His eyes fell half closed at the tight warmth around his finger, imaging it around other parts. He shuddered before getting control of himself again.
Viggo sighed several times in rapid succession and then wriggled hard against Elijah's hand. He deliberately clenched his muscles, trying to indicate how much room there was inside him. All he could think of was Elijah buried inside, moving above him and calling out his name in his sweet voice.
"You are an eager one aren't you, Vig?" Amusement and a great deal of affection threaded though Elijah's voice, as he carefully worked a second finger into Viggo's body.
"Yessss," Viggo hissed. He shivered as the second finger stretched him so intimately, opening him further for his lover. Unwilling to do nothing, Viggo unlatched one hand from its grip on the sheets and reached out blindly for Elijah. "Want this so much."
Elijah took Viggo's hand with his free one bringing it up to cup his cheek, pressing kisses to the sweat damped skin. He started moving his fingers in and out of Viggo's body, fingers pressing in deeply, searching for and finding Viggo's prostrate and stroking it firmly.
All thoughts flew out of Viggo's mind as those clever fingers found his most sensitive spot and stroked him toward oblivion. His body acted on pure feeling alone, arching desperately and angling itself over and over to help keep the stimulation going. His hand dropped from Elijah's cheek to re-tangle itself into the sheets and yank until the seams started to give.
Elijah could not help but groan at the amazing sight Viggo made. "So beautiful..." Elijah's words were almost worshiping, even as his fingers got to work, scissoring slightly, stretching and preparing Viggo more aggressively than before, but still with the greatest care.
Head thrown back, Viggo barely registered Elijah's words, though some part of him flushed deeply in response. Physically, the fingers buried inside him caused everything else in the world to recede until the feeling of them moving and stretching overwhelmed him. "Now, Elijah," he begged. "Now, before I can stand no more."
Elijah's own trembling convinced him as much as Viggo's words that now was the right time. He pulled his fingers from Viggo's body carefully. He quickly prepared himself, his motions deliberately to fast and slightly unpleasant to help him regain some control, as he did not want to spill into Viggo with the first thrust. Positioning himself, he very slowly and just as carefully, pushed himself into Viggo's prepared body, a loud moan escaping his lips as he sunk into delicious, tight warmth.
Gripping Elijah tightly inside, Viggo pushed himself into the impalement, desperate to take in everything he could. "I love you," he whispered, as they both paused, waiting to get used to the feeling. After a moment, he rocked gently against Elijah, urging him to move.
Elijah was in heaven- a bliss more profound than anything he ever felt before. "I love you, Viggo..." He realized he did not even know Viggo's full name, the inane thought making him smile before he groaned. Unable to deny either of them, he started moving slowly, pulling out before thrusting back into Viggo's body several times.
Viggo just reacted in mindless pleasure to each thrust. His stronger form made the bed rock and shake with each movement. With every breath, he cried his love for Elijah, the pleasure ten fold- twenty- an infinite amount more than he ever knew before.
Although neither of them knew it, their hearts and bodies moved with a synchronicity most people never knew, as if they shared the same mind, the same heart and the same soul- one perfect whole. Elijah called out his own love for Viggo over and over, sometimes aloud, sometimes with just his heart. As his bliss mounted, Elijah started losing his control, thrusting more rapidly, and with more force into Viggo.
Viggo's release started as a powerful, almost painful, glow near his heart that blossomed throughout his body. When Elijah's thrusts lost all semblance of rhythm, when he drove deepest into Viggo, he felt it all the way into his mind. His orgasm hit him with the force of a runaway train, as he screamed Elijah's name until his throat burned raw.
Elijah could not keep his control any longer, the sweet sound of his name on Viggo's lips, the amazing sight of Viggo lost in his pleasure, the incredible feelings from his own body, all gathered into one moment of perfection. He screamed, calling out to Viggo as his pleasure flooded over him, falling onto Viggo's chest, and catching Viggo's lips for a long kiss as pleasure shuddered through his body.
Viggo gripped Elijah tightly as his body shuddered through pleasurable aftershocks. "I have never felt that way before," he whispered into the stillness. He lifted his weary head to press a series of small kisses on Elijah's head and neck. "I love you."
Elijah felt a tugging on his soul, the sweetest pain he ever felt. "I haven't either, my Viggo. I... you amaze me... we amaze me." '
"That nobody else found you before me and loved you is what amazes me," Viggo said seriously, lifting his head to look Elijah in the eye. "You give so much to me... I can scarcely believe I existed before you came into my life."
Elijah caressed Viggo's face with two small hands, letting his full body weight rest on Viggo. He searched for the words to say what he wanted to, what he needed to tell Viggo before he had to go. He could feel the faintest tugging, a sensation that would grow until he could deny it no longer, letting him know how limited their time was. "I find it amazing that no one snapped you up, Viggo."
"I was waiting," Viggo said with a faint smile, "but I did not know it until I met you."
"I've waited my whole life for you..." Elijah sighed, aware of the irony of the statement, but also its complete truth.
"I'm sorry I took so long," Viggo said, squeezing him tightly.
Elijah had no answer for that, so he pressed a soft kiss to Viggo's lips before carefully pulling out of him. He padded to the bathroom, cleaning up and coming back with a dampened towel, using it to clean Viggo up, before snuggling back into his lover and the sheets.
Tiredly, Viggo wrapped his arms around Elijah and pulled him close. "I'll make it up to you later," he murmured. "I promise, my Elijah."
"I know, my love." Snuggling into Viggo, Elijah relaxed as much as he could, letting the relaxation of his muscles lead Viggo to believe he was falling asleep. Elijah had no intention of falling asleep, but he was too much of a coward to keep Viggo awake, knowing the pain of his leaving would break them both.
Sleep beckoned, but Viggo fought it off for a few more moments, wanting to hold his lover. His eyes began to droop however, and he could not stifle a yawn against warm skin.
Elijah whispered suddenly, softly against Viggo's shoulder, "Wood... Elijah Jordan Wood."
"Elijah Jordan Wood." Drifting off into a pleasant sated sleep that he knew would be full of dreams of blue eyes, Viggo whispered-sang, "I will remember."
"I hope so." It was the softest whisper, full of love and hope, although a part of Elijah damned himself for his selfish desire to have Viggo remember him, knowing his leaving would bequeath Viggo nothing but sorrow.
As soon as Elijah was sure Viggo was asleep, his tears fell freely, although silently, from blue eyes. Laying where he could see Viggo's face, Elijah's eyes never looked away from his lover, trying to memorize the beloved features. His hands ghosted over Viggo's arms and chest as Elijah desperately tried to imprint on his mind and senses the feel, the texture and warmth of Viggo's skin. He tried to ensure no matter how long their parting, he would not forget the slightest thing about the amazing man he loved.
The tugging on his soul changed from the mildest sensation, easily ignored, to near pain from his fighting, from his overwhelming desire to stay with Viggo. No matter how hard he tried, no matter how he fought with everything inside him, this battle, he could not win.
As the night turned to day, and the birds started to sing the morning to the world, Elijah whispered in a desperately fierce voice, "Don't close yourself off to other loves. Please be happy, live long and fully, my beloved artist, knowing that I will be there, at the end." His voice grew fiercer, even as his body started to fade away, cracking with emotions, "Remember me Viggo. Remember that for a few sweet days, you loved a blue eyed boy and were loved in return. I swear, I will watch over you. I will wait for you and if you still want me, when we meet again, I will be yours for the having."
He reached out with a transparent hand, trying to touch Viggo one last time, but his fingers passed through Viggo skin, unable to touch the living world. "I love you."
And he was gone, like a breath of air- swept into the world of insubstantial things, as all ghosts go, once they accept their death and move on.
**********
Viggo woke up slowly, hand groping across the sheets for something he knew should be there. Opening his eyes and lifting his head, Viggo searched the bed for a groggy moment before his heart and mind woke up and remembered fully.
"Elijah?" he whispered into the cold, still morning. He crawled out from under the sheets, which still smelled of their lovemaking and dragged a robe over his nakedness. "Elijah?!" he called louder. He headed for the bathroom, his bare feet barely registering the cold boards underneath them. Opening the door, he peered into the empty room.
"Elijah?"
Something ugly and frightened began to squirm in his heart and belly. Turning from the bathroom, he kept himself from running to the other bedroom by the sheerest force of will.
"Elijah?"
He opened the door and surveyed the bed, messed and missing covers from the night before. Remembering Elijah's nightmares, a line of what his lover told him turned his blood to ice within his veins- "He attacked me... I tried to fight, but... he..."
Viggo ran to where Elijah had left his things and found nothing. "No! What!? Elijah!?" The last word was a near scream into the morning, and birds outside flew from their perches in fear.
Tearing to the front door, Viggo threw it open, unaware of the frigid air that hit his limbs. "Elijah!?"
He stumbled out, still yelling with every breath that plumed from his mouth. "Elijah!"
Passing by his truck un-noticing, Viggo headed for the path they had taken together but a few days ago.
"Elijah!? Please, where are you?"
He began to climb the path and then race up it, not knowing what he was doing or where he was going, only knowing that he had to find Elijah... The familiar trees seemed to menace him, laugh at him, as he moved more and more wildly through them, calling, "Elijah!"
When some local hikers found Viggo, four hours later, curled up and feverish at the top of the trail, they could only get one word out of him- "Elijah."
**********
In the end, what pulled Viggo out of his illness and back into the light was Henry. No other pleas reached him, nor medicines touched his fever, but when his son wept on his hospital bed and begged his father to come back, Viggo could not refuse. So, he drifted back to life and tried to make himself better for the ones who cared about him. But always the memory of those few hours holding on to his blue-eyed lover held him back. He shared the photographs with his closest friends, his agent and finally his son, but only Henry believed him. Eventually, Viggo began to doubt the reality of his own memories and fell deeper into despair. For all the sorrow of having lost his Elijah, the thought of his never existing at all felt a million times worse.
He took to haunting the places they had shared in those few days- the street where Elijah first shimmied over to the truck and where other prostitutes still sauntered. He returned to the small museum, taking photographs of the empty bed, the lonely dolphin and the willow whose weeping now mocked as it mirrored his own state. He even tried to return to the cabin, but the first glimpse of its walls crushed his heart so utterly that he nearly drove his truck into the nearest tree to stop the pain.
Eventually, his neglect of himself took a staunch toll on his body. He became a shadow of his former self- thin, gaunt and ghastly pale. Even when Henry moved in to live with him permanently, Viggo could not find the will to take better care of himself. It was gone, vanished as suddenly as the one who still owned his very soul.
One morning, some indistinguishable time later, Viggo woke up with a name on his lips, the same name he always woke up with, but this time, it seemed to have a purpose. "Elijah Jordan Wood," he muttered, heading for the phone book. He flipped it to the Ws and studied them carefully. One name made him pause, something quiet and sure stirring inside him. "Rose Wood."
He traced the address with his forefinger and then without another thought, grabbed his keys, his photographs of Elijah and headed for the truck. Driving like the mad man he had become, he soon found himself in a senior living complex. After a rather strained conversation with one of the nurses, he was finally led to the small assisted quarters of Rose Wood. He knocked on the door and waited.
The woman who opened the door looked at Viggo with curious eyes. Curious blue eyes of astounding color and shape, which Viggo had seen once before. "Hello?"
Swallowing hard, Viggo asked in a tremulous voice, "Are you the grandmother of Elijah Jordan Wood?"
The curiosity dimmed into deep grief, and Rose gasped, her hand coming up to hold the silver locket hanging from a chain around her neck. "I-" She swallowed before nodding, "Elijah was my grandson, yes. Why? Are- are you from the police?"
"No... I- I loved him," Viggo said, his voice cracking on the word love. His eyes suddenly widened as the word police registered in his mind. "Police? What- what happened to him?"
"You- you knew Elijah?" Her gaze assessed him for a moment before she took a leap of faith, trusting her instincts. She shuffled back from the door, in obvious pain as she moved. "Come in and sit down, please. I can't stand for too long."
Following her, Viggo shut the door quietly and stood awkwardly in the room. "Yes, I knew him. He- he meant- means the world to me. Since I lost him, I- well, I've become what you now see." His hands fumbled with the packet of photographs.
Rose waved him to a chair, as she lowered herself into one, her eyes never leaving him as she sat, "Please sit down Mr..." She let her voice trail away, hoping he would fill in the rest.
"Viggo," he said softly, sitting down. "My name is Viggo."
"I don't remember Elijah ever speaking of you, but I can see that you cared about my grandson, so I will tell you what I can. This- this is not easy for me, so please understand if I get emotional." She looked down at her hands, curled around each other in her lap. "Several months ago, El- Elijah... he..." She took a deep breath before looking up at Viggo. "I'm sorry, but he's gone. He- he was... he's dead." When she finally managed to say the words, her voice crackled with sorrow.
"Months?" Viggo gasped, his hands clenching. "But that's not possible. I met him on All Hollow's Eve... he was alive!" Viggo jumped to his feet, his overwrought mind near to complete meltdown. "I held him... kissed him..." He held out the photographs to her. "I took photographs of him. Look, some of them have the date on them... he was there!"
She took the photos with a trembling hand, wondering if she had done the wrong thing in letting him into her home. As soon as she looked at the first one, she knew, down to her very core, that he was telling the truth. "I- I believe you, but- but Elijah did die. I buried him on a sunny summer afternoon last June. He- he was murdered..." Her voice broke completely, and she could not continue, could not describe the things the police had told her.
"Oh God," Viggo gasped, falling back into the chair. He clutched at his face with his hands, tears rolling from his eyes. "He told me... he remembered... he remembered being killed." The dam broke, and Viggo sobbed again into the circles of his fists, unable to stop the torrent that shook his body. He believed now- Elijah was dead and had been dead when they met.
Her maternal instincts raised by the man sobbing in her living room, Rose got up and moved to Viggo's side, sitting beside him and taking this stranger, who was grieved for her grandson so painfully, into her arms.
"I'm sorry," Viggo said finally in a weak voice. "I know you must grieve for him as well. I do not wish to force myself upon your kindness. Elijah once told me how much he loved you. You were the one person in the world who always loved him." He took a deep, shuddering breath. "I loved him the same way. I always will."
"Grief is an old friend of mine. When you get to my age, he is a constant companion. Do not be sorry for showing me how important my Elijah was to you. But please... I don't understand... you said you met him on All Hallows Eve... he'd been- been gone for some time by then..."
"He was waiting for me," Viggo whispered with conviction. "He was waiting to be loved."
"Elijah spent his life looking for love. He accepted himself during that search, something his parents still cannot forgive him for... I can believe that he was waiting for someone to love, unable to pass on until he found it... you."
Viggo managed the faintest smile. "I'm glad he waited for me. I hope he'll wait for me again, wherever he is now."
"Did he love you as fiercely as you love him? For if he loved you with half I strength I know was within him, he will wait for you for as long as it takes." She smiled back at Viggo, offering him a box of tissues.
Viggo took a few tissues, wiping off the moisture from his cheeks. "I would like to believe he did. We only had a short time together, but he always made it clear with his words and his actions..." Viggo touched the packet of photographs. "May I see where he is buried?"
"Of course..." Getting up, she walked over to a writing desk tucked away in a corner of the room, took a piece of paper with a plot number and directions out and brought it back to Viggo. "Here."
Taking it from her, Viggo grasped her frail hand in his own weakened one. "I know Elijah would not have wanted you to be alone. May I visit you? I have a son, Henry. Until now, he was the only one who believed me, did not think I lost my sanity. He would be happy to meet you, and I want him to know someone who knew Elijah."
Rose smiled and nodded. "I would be honored to have both of you visit me. I- I have been lonely since Elijah... his parents never approved of me, and when I did not support them when it came to Elijah... well, I have not seen them since."
"You'll be good for me, as well," Viggo admitted, softly. He stared down at his feet, suddenly ashamed of his disheveled and sickened appearance. "I want to know all about Elijah- his childhood, his dreams, his loves... all the things he never got time to tell me."
"I think first, you need to take care of yourself. It would break Elijah's heart to see you so unhappy." Rose patted Viggo's shoulder lightly. "Why don't you come back on Sunday for lunch? I will get out all the photos I have of Elijah and tell you ever story I can. And in the mean time, you will take care of yourself."
"I'd like that," Viggo said, standing up. Impulsively, he leaned down and hugged the small framed woman. "And I promise to take better care of myself. For him... and for me."
"Then I will see you Sunday, say... eleven o'clock?" Rose hugged Viggo back, as tightly as she could, before linking their arms and walking with him to the door. "Now, you need to wrap yourself around several good meals and nights of good sleep between now and then."
"I will," Viggo said. "And I'll be here at eleven on Sunday. " He smiled and looked into the blue eyes, so familiar and yet so different. "I promise."
**********
A warm wind ruffled Viggo's hair as he made his way through the graveyard toward the small marker he knew so well. He carried a large, wrapped bundle under one arm and a single yellow rose in the other. As he reached the stone marked very plainly- Elijah Jordan Wood- Viggo knelt down in the grass beside it.
"It's done, Elijah, the way I told you it would be. A lot of working and reworking, but it came together in the end. I'm sorry to have kept you waiting these few years... I seem to be good at keeping you waiting."
He opened the brown paper and revealed a book of photographs entitled, "Will You Remember." Elijah, sitting in the tree that framed forever, beamed off the cover.
"You've made me rich, Elijah, which is why I could not get here sooner. Book signings, photograph sessions, talk shows... its all a bit much for me to comprehend. But it's you they love, not my work. They want to know how I made you look so ethereal, so unearthly, and all I can do is laugh. People tell me they weep at your story, but none of them believe it, except Henry. We know the truth, he and I. He never asks me why I don't try to find someone new... I love him the more for understanding."
Viggo ran a hand threw his hair, noting with a small smile the gray strands now interweaving with the brown. He glanced around him, an older middle-aged man, his features attractive and serene, as if the cares of the world no longer bothered him. "Please say hi to your grandmother for me. Henry and I miss her.... and I miss you. I know you're still with me, but I miss you anyway. I love you, Elijah."
He set the book on the stone, propping it up a little. With a sigh and a small kiss to the air, he stood up and made his slow way back to the entrance, where Henry waited for him. As he neared the gates, the breeze blew again. The pages of the book fell open, blowing gently until they stopped on a page with the inscribed words-
'Til life's last faint ember, I will remember.
AUTHOR'S NOTE: Dear lovely readers, we wanted to say a few words at the end of this tale for all of you who got through it all. First of all, thank you for your patience and kindness in reading and FBing WYR. Secondly, please do not kill us! The very premise of this fiction was that Elijah was a ghost when Viggo met him, but did not realize until the very end. There are scattered hints throughout the story, but we wanted to keep everyone in the dark til this end chapter. It was for this purpose that we did not post the usual Deathfic warning that often accopmanies such stories. We did not want in any way to ruin the ending, so we choose to keep quiet and perhaps upset some people. I apologize to anyone we may have upset and hope you understand our reasons.
Thank you for reading, and we hope you will continue to read our fiction! We promise some happier stuff soon!
Emma and Saklani
no subject
I kinda wished at the end, after a time, i could read that Viggo woke one night to a hand on his cheek and Elijah whispering that it was time for them to journey together. Viggo leaving his body behind...not fully understanding but rejoicing in being rejoined with the softest faint touch and breath of his love, Elijah, leading them to forever.
Maybe this thought will make this easier.
no subject
*kiss*
I hope you will try out some of our other stories. I promise some happy endings!
Saklani
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I have ached and cried to Anum Cara (cried alot on the last chapter of this--still there is hope) and Damaged but never quite lost it like this (or felt the need to write down my own ending to make it a little easier on myself).
I will definitly keep reading you..you obviously affected me...
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Thank you for such lovely and detailed feedback.
Saklani
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Saklani
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Thank you for such glowing FB!
Saklani
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Saklani
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This was wistful, tender and beautiful. Thank you.
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Thanks for leaving FB!
Saklani
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The nice thing about the concept, though, is that because Elijah was a ghost, that gives us the surety that they WILL be together again.
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Saklani