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fellowshippers2006-08-08 11:48 am
v-angelique.livejournal.com) wrote in fellowshippers2006-08-08 11:48 am
Fic: Controlled 5/45
Title: Controlled (5/45)
Author: Viktoria Angelique
Email: viktoria_angelique@hotmail.com
Rating: NC-17 for series, PG for this part
Pairing: Elijah/Viggo
Warnings: BDSM overall, none this chapter
Disclaimer: If this were true the world might be a better place.
Feedback: I love it!
Summary: Long-arsed chapter featuring Viggo and Elijah, food, holidays, and rain.
A/N: Shit, sorry! Between FQF deadline and all sorts of upsetting RPG drama last night, I just completely failed to post this. Oops! Well, at least it's extra long, and only two days till the next part, which is of a decent link, at least. Also, I haven't been including previous chapters link (oops) but it's below, or rather, my fic index link is. Scroll down for previous chapters.
Previous Chapters
When Liv Tyler first arrived on set, it was a special treat. For Elijah, more than anyone else, it was a slight case of being star-struck—her dad, after all, actually wrote “Sweet Emotion” and “Walk This Way.” However, she was also the first major female actress to take a part in the film, and it was clear that everyone stood a little straighter, spoke with a little less jocular vulgarity, and paid a little bit more attention than they had previously.
For Elijah, once he got over the rock star dad connection, Liv wasn’t all that big of a deal. She treated him too much like a little brother to have a crush, and she was too flighty to be a really close friend. She and Orlando bonded right away, often with the same call time and Orlando acting as chauffeur. She did occasionally come out to the pub with the guys, and on those nights they would perhaps be a little less crass than usual, but still, she was just Liv.
Elijah had to admit he was a teeny bit disappointed.
One down, one to go, but it wasn’t as if he would have much of a chance with Cate Blanchett. Honestly, Elijah hadn’t held out too much hope that his dream girl would be either of the actresses, lovely though they may be. He supposed he could find a girl well enough outside of work, or even one of the female Elves or costume girls, and Dom and Orlando encouraged it. But no one on set really caught his eye, there was something about growing up in Hollywood that made him a bit wary of finding someone in the real world. There wasn’t anything wrong with “normal” girls, per say, but with the exception of someone from home he would be unlikely to see them after a shoot was over, and given the demands of this particular shoot, he wouldn’t have nearly enough time for a regular girlfriend regardless.
So instead, he raided Dom’s porn collection, and found a few choice pieces to get him through the lonely nights.
On one of these lonely nights, which he had planned to spend in his room with a couple of newly purchased CDs from a second-hand shop, Elijah was rudely interrupted by the phone. It was a Saturday, and they wouldn’t be working the next day, so he would bet almost anything that it was Orli, trying again to convince him to come out to the pub and have “just one drink.” His rehearsed response was ready in his head when he answered, but he was surprised to find a different accent altogether on the other end.
“Hey Elijah. I hope I didn’t ring you at a bad time.”
“No, not at all.” Elijah smiled to himself. Only Viggo would actually have the courtesy to inquire; Dom or Orlando would just ring him up at their convenience and start straight away with a request for his time.
“Good. I was wondering, what are your plans for the evening?”
“Um, I didn’t really have any. Hobbits are out but I wasn’t in the mood,” Elijah explained, suddenly feeling that he might not mind leaving the house after all.
“Ah. Just going to put on a record, relax, and enjoy the storm, huh?”
Intuitive bastard, Elijah thought with a grin. He had been in an introspective mood lately, but he wouldn’t put it to anyone else to really notice. “That’s about the size of it, yeah,” Elijah agreed.
“Well hey, if you want to be alone you’re welcome, but…”
“What’d you have in mind?” Elijah asked with a grin. Viggo didn’t know it, but he was easily the best in the bunch at manipulation. He was so damned considerate that you just wanted to do what he wanted, no matter what it was.
“Well I was thinking, you know, I caught some fish earlier, rain’s great for the catch, and I know it’s nearly nine but if you haven’t eaten…”
Elijah smiled to himself. He had been all set for an evening alone, but now, with the melodious laughing tone of Viggo’s voice on the line, he suddenly had a desire for company. “I’d love to join you. Can I bring anything?”
“Just yourself,” Viggo replied. “Oh, and why don’t you bring some music you’d like? I think my tastes might be a little obscure for what you’re used to. But I’ll see you in a few?”
“I’ll be over soon as I can.” Elijah grinned, mood brightening somewhat with the prospect of a quiet evening shared with someone much more introspective than himself, and proceeded to get ready.
The weather was mild, as summer was starting to come on full-blast in New Zealand, but he threw a charcoal jumper on over his black t-shirt in an effort to insulate slightly against the rain, and sprayed his neck lightly with cologne at the last minute. He felt a little silly—he was unlikely after all to meet a bird at Viggo’s house—but he didn’t really question himself, grabbing his leather jacket and the newly purchased CDs as he headed out into the storm.
Half an hour later, clutching the discs and a bottle of wine he had picked up on the way over, he stood on Viggo’s doorstep, looking a bit like a drowned rat. Viggo just laughed when he opened the door, ushered Elijah in, and took the wine and CDs while Elijah hung his jacket and jumper up to dry. Self-consciously, he ran a hand through his hair, but of course it just stood straight up, droplets clinging to the dull spikes, and he grinned apologetically as Viggo gestured to a place at his dining table.
“So what’ve we got here?” Viggo asked, studying the covers of the jewel cases he held in his hands. “Bright Eyes and David Mead… don’t know either of them, I’m afraid.”
“Um, put the David Mead in first. It just came out a couple of months ago; there’s this brilliant song on there that a friend emailed me on the second track.” Viggo laughed to himself as he put the disc into his stereo and let it play while he dished out the fried fish and rice he had made.
“You know, I could almost forget how young you are, Elijah, if it weren’t for the ‘emailing music’ thing,” Viggo commented with a friendly smile as he set down their food and took to pouring the wine Elijah had bought. Elijah blushed, but from Viggo it wasn’t really an insult, just a statement of fact. In fact, with Viggo, Elijah somehow felt even older than he did with the hobbits. Viggo was a smart guy—maybe it was only because he had a son of his own, but he knew how to treat Elijah as an equal rather than the kid on set.
The fish was quite good, some sort of trout fried with onions and mushrooms and garnished with lemon butter. Viggo had cooked up some rice on the side, flavoured with what looked like orange zest, and topped it off with steamed vegetables. For a bachelor, Elijah was impressed.
“This is excellent stuff, Vig. Much better than the frozen burgers I was planning on.” Viggo smiled across the table at Elijah as he sipped at his wine, stretching his legs out under the table so that the leg of his khakis just brushed Elijah’s own ankle.
“It’s not that difficult, you know. But I never cooked before I met my wife, honestly. I’ll give you that.”
“Where’d you learn?”
“It was out of necessity,” Viggo mumbled around a mouthful of fish. “Had to cook for Henry and all that. It was just mac & cheese at first, but she did the whole LA organic food kick and so I learned how to make healthy meals for the three of us. I guess it just carried over to being single again, but I don’t have much of a taste for macaroni anymore.”
Elijah grinned as he tried to scoop some restless peas onto his fork, thinking back to meals with his own family in LA.
“My mom never cooked, really. I mean she’d get decent food for us, but usually Marie Calendar frozen dinners and the like. Hannah can cook, but not like this. She makes the most amazing brownies, though.”
“Hannah’s your little sister?”
Elijah swallowed around a bite of vegetables and nodded. “Yeah. She’s fifteen now. Goes to high school in LA.”
“Did you go to the same school, then?” Viggo inquired.
“Nah, I didn’t go. Tutors and such. I did graduate, though.”
“Do you regret it?”
“I’m not sure,” Elijah answered thoughtfully. “It was a hard decision. But hey, here I am. I think I did all right.”
Viggo nodded, looking thoughtful for a second as he chewed a mouthful of rice. “Have you ever considered going to college?”
“I will if I have time,” Elijah replied with a noncommittal shrug. “But who knows. I’ve got to make money doing this while I can, right?” Viggo shrugged, seemingly not in agreement but not pressing the point either. “Did you go to college?”
“Saint Lawrence in New York state. Graduated in ’80.”
“Year before I was born,” Elijah commented with a wry little laugh, and then wondered if he shouldn’t have mentioned that. Still, Viggo just smiled in return, shaking his head a bit.
“Hard to believe, huh? Seems like ages ago, now…”
“Well, I know I’m young, but I’m mature for my age,” Elijah commented, instantly regretting the words when they left his lips. He didn’t want to sound petulant, but he also wasn’t interested in screwing up his friendship with Viggo when the other man suddenly realised that he was an eighteen-year old kid.
“Obviously, Elijah. You know, I wouldn’t have traded my childhood for anything, if I had been given the opportunity to act as a child. Hollywood…well it doesn’t seem like a place for children. It has to be insane growing up like that.”
Elijah shrugged and pushed the food around his plate, feeling a little uncomfortable. “It’s just life. I mean, that’s what I did. Some kids play a sport; I acted. It wasn’t that big of a deal, and I made big money. I’m not nearly as fucked up as most kids I grew up with—you seen Macaulay Culkin lately?”
Viggo laughed and sipped at his wine, eyes understanding as Elijah tried to explain himself.
“I know the business changes people,” Elijah went on, “but I don’t think it hurt me too much. Still, I envy you. You seem so cool with it all.”
Viggo laughed again, shaking his head, and his eyes grew distant as if reminiscing. “You know, I never really wanted to act professionally. I mean I like it fine, but like you said, it pays the bills. I’d much rather be painting or writing or something, but that’s not going to put Henry through college.”
Elijah paused for a moment, stirring his rice around with his fork before he spoke softly, meeting Viggo’s eyes. “He’s really important to you, yeah?”
“He’s my only son.”
Elijah nodded, satisfied. “Well maybe if the films do well, you know, you can go home and paint and stuff. Take some time off.”
A small smile crept onto Viggo’s face at the suggestion. “Yeah, I’d like that.” His eyes got a far-off look, suddenly, staring off into space at a point behind Elijah’s left shoulder before he continued. “I have a kind of a pipe dream; it’s silly…”
“Tell me,” Elijah encouraged when Viggo hesitated. Viggo’s eyes had an odd sort of sparkle in them, and Elijah found himself immensely curious.
“Well, I’d like to have my own company. Like a publishing company, so that I could sell my art and poetry. I don’t know if it’ll ever happen, but…”
“You should do it,” Elijah encouraged. “It sounds like a great idea to me.”
Viggo smiled and took another bite, considering. “Businesses are hard work. I don’t know that I have patience for all the nitty-gritty that goes into them, honestly.”
“So hire someone to help you,” Elijah suggested, waving his fork in the air for emphasis. “Nobody does that stuff on their own.”
“Yeah. We’ll see, I guess. But what about you? You have any plans after all this is over?”
“Nah, not really.” Elijah shrugged. “Too soon to tell. I mean, I’m hoping to get some good roles, obviously, but I don’t think that far ahead.”
Viggo smiled and took a sip of wine. “Do you have anything else you want to do outside of acting?”
“Not really…” Elijah shook his head after considering for a moment. “If I can do films for the rest of my life I probably will. If not, I don’t know. I’d like to have a record label or something; that would be pretty awesome.”
“Right,” Viggo agreed, gesturing towards the CD player with his fork. “This CD’s not bad, incidentally.”
“Yeah, he’s kind of poppy but I like it.” Elijah hummed along with ‘Touch of Mascara’ for a second, then smiled apologetically at Viggo, who was watching him curiously. “What sorts of music do you like, then? You said your tastes are pretty obscure…”
“Yeah. I like some experimental stuff, instrumental and world music. Probably not your kind of thing.”
Elijah grinned, eyes twinkling at the challenge. “Try me. You might be surprised.”
Viggo smiled and nodded, getting up from his chair and rifling through a small tower of CDs sitting on the bookshelf next to the stereo. “Here, have a listen to this.”
Elijah sat back, chewing quietly, until he began to recognize the lilting Cuban guitar track. “Hey wait! I know this!”
Viggo raised his eyebrows, slightly impressed, as he poured some more wine.
“It’s ‘Buena Vista Social Club!’” Elijah cried out. “These guys are brilliant! Have you seen the movie?” His face flushed with excitement, and Viggo smiled and nodded as Elijah gestured with his fork. “I just saw it before coming out here, it was so brilliant… when’d you get the CD?”
“Just recently, actually. I saw the movie with a friend in LA, and he sent the CD for my birthday.”
“Oh yeah? When was your birthday?”
“Um…” Viggo lowered his eyes to his plate, looking a little embarrassed. “It’s today, actually… I didn’t want to make a fuss or anything…”
Elijah’s eyes went wide and he jumped out of his seat, nearly knocking over his wine glass in the process, which Viggo reached out and steadied with lightning reflexes as Elijah hurried around the table and crushed him in an awkward hug from the side.
“Viggo! Why didn’t you tell us? Happy birthday, man! Dude, I didn’t get you anything…”
Viggo smiled and returned the hug, then released Elijah and let him return to his seat. “I didn’t want to make a fuss, like I said. It’s only forty one.”
Elijah gave him a disbelieving look, crossing his arms over his chest in defiance until Viggo smiled mockingly in return. Elijah just threw up his hands, refusing to concede the point. “You should have fun on your birthday!”
“I am having fun,” Viggo argued. “That’s why I didn’t say anything. I knew everyone would drag me out to the pub, and I’d rather be here having dinner with you than getting drunk on my birthday.”
“Oh.” Elijah thought for a moment, and nodded, seeing the sense in Viggo’s argument. Going out and getting drunk was beginning to lose its appeal for him as well, to some extent, and Viggo had probably been there and done that before Elijah was even born. “Well, I guess I’m honoured that you’d want to spend your birthday with me, then. But I feel like we should do something special to celebrate, I mean other than you cooking me dinner. Hardly seems like much of a birthday for you.”
Viggo smiled and shrugged his shoulders. “What did you have in mind?”
“Well… Elijah tapped his fingers on the table for a minute, thinking. Then, with a wide smile, he jumped up again, clearing away the dishes as he whistled along with the music. “Wait right there!” he demanded from the kitchen, and began rummaging around the room when Viggo didn’t follow.
“Hey, what are you doing to my kitchen, exactly?” Viggo called from the other room, and Elijah grinned, trying to slam the cabinets a little more quietly.
“Nothing! Just sit still! I’ll be back in a second!” Finding nothing that really resumed a baked good in the small kitchen, he frowned to himself, but then got an idea. Triumphantly, he managed to locate a pack of plain white tea candles, and removed one, setting it on the counter as he went through the fridge. A few beers sat at the back of the middle shelf, and he removed one, popping the top and setting the tea candle in its little metal holder gingerly atop the open bottle. Then, fishing a lighter out of the pocket of his jeans, he slowly returned to the main room with his carefully balanced creation. Viggo shook his head, grinning as Elijah set the bottle on the table in front of him, precariously lighting the candle.
“Hurry up,” Elijah urged. “Before I burn your whole house down.” Viggo laughed, made a quick off-the-cuff wish, and blew the candle out as Elijah whisper-sang a round of happy birthday in his ear, his chin on Viggo’s shoulder. “I couldn’t find cake,” he explained as Viggo sat the extinguished candle down next to the beer.
“You’re a very thoughtful hobbit,” Viggo praised, turning slightly to place a kiss on Elijah’s cheek. “However, you might be warned that alcohol is highly flammable.”
Elijah rolled his eyes as he returned to his seat, taking a sip of wine as Viggo started on the beer. “It wouldn’t be the first time I nearly burned something down,” he mumbled, and Viggo raised his eyebrows.
“Really?”
“Yeah. Last time it was my bedroom.” Elijah laughed lightly at the memory.
“What did you do? Forget to put out a cigarette?”
“Nah. I had a candle burning, and I kind of… well I let it tip over.” Thinking of the actual details of the situation, he realised this wasn’t exactly something he wanted to be telling Viggo, but it was too late now.
“It just tipped off the table? That’s impressive clumsiness.”
Elijah laughed, shaking his head.
“Not quite that bad. I was holding it, at the time… and I was kind of distracted. I dropped it.”
“Oh.” If Viggo had any idea what Elijah’s distraction might have been, he didn’t let on, and Elijah was glad, for though he wanted to be friends with his co-star, talking about his masturbatory activities was not his favourite way to establish a friendship.
“Anyway, I set a couple of magazines on fire and had to stamp them out. The smoke detector went off and my mom ended up setting a no flame in the house rule. Wasn’t a big deal; I didn’t smoke yet.”
“How old were you?”
“Fourteen.”
“I smoked some at that age. Quit long ago though.”
“Really? Cold turkey?”
“Yeah. It was a bitch. I still light up occasionally, but not enough to get in the habit again.”
“Oh. Well hey, speaking of which, all this talk of cigarettes… have you got a covered porch back there?” Viggo laughed and nodded.
“A little bit of one. Knock yourself out.” Elijah smiled and went to retrieve his jacket, throwing it over his shoulder without the jumper and stepping outside into the storm. Floods on the South Island were delaying filming, and he knew they were going to have to stay a little longer than expected until the Christmas break. At the moment, all the residual in Wellington was the occasional thunderstorm such as this one, and it wasn’t all that unlike LA, rain and warm weather being something Elijah was used to. What he wasn’t used to was the violent beauty of such a natural display, the sky flashing deep purple as a backdrop to the stark white bolts of lightning in the distance. It took him awhile to get his fag to light in the wind, and once he had taken a few drags, the door swung open behind him, Viggo stepping out on the porch to lean on the railing next to him. Elijah held out his pack, but Viggo shook his head, just looking out at the storm in companionable silence as Elijah slowly inhaled his nicotine fix.
“Beautiful, isn’t it?” Viggo finally commented, his voice barely loud enough to be heard over the wind. Elijah nodded, leaning back against the warm wood of the house and silently counting seconds between lightning bolt and thunder. By his estimation, the centre of the storm was nearly four kilometres away, but it seemed much closer. “I like this weather better than the real tropical squalls. I lived in Venezuela for a while when I was a kid, and Argentina. Those storms… well they’re amazing, real fear of God type stuff, but you better hope your house is securely fastened to something when one of those whips up. All that natural power in one place, well, it’s quite intense.”
Elijah thought for a moment, tracing the defined curve of Viggo’s back with his eyes, Viggo’s thin shirt a little damp with the rain being blown at the porch. He didn’t look at Elijah as he spoke, and so Elijah felt free to observe his friend as he very rarely did.
“I would think you’d like intense,” he commented quietly, noting the way Viggo’s lengthening hair was beginning to stick to his face and curl slightly.
Viggo laughed, an almost wild laughter, continuing to stare into the storm, and Elijah wondered if this was how crazy people started out.
“I like intense when my house isn’t about to be blown down,” he answered logically. “Hey, you want to go for a walk?”
Elijah raised his eyebrows, stubbed his cigarette on the railing and held it awkwardly between his fingers, not sure if Viggo would object to cigarette ends being tossed in the woods behind his house. “A walk? You are mad.”
Viggo laughed a bit, then slid into an easy grin, wrapping one arm around Elijah’s waist and squeezing him against Viggo’s side.
“I may be mad, but it’s my birthday! Come on, it’ll be fun. You’re the one who wanted to celebrate.”
“And here I was thinking a party, you know, cake…” Elijah mumbled as he went back in the house, Viggo laughing behind, and threw the end of his fag in the bin.
“Where do you want to walk to, then?”
Viggo clapped his hands together, grinning triumphantly, and almost reminded Elijah briefly of an excited four-year old girl. He laughed at the image, and Viggo eyed him quizzically as he shrugged on a worn leather jacket that looked like a vintage version of Elijah’s.
“What’s funny?”
“Oh, just… you’re quite the image, Vig,” Elijah replied, though he didn’t mean it in a pejorative way.
Viggo shrugged and held open the front door for Elijah, who took a deep breath for fortitude and then led the way out into the night, wondering if risking getting lost in the woods with his clearly insane cast mate was such a brilliant idea, birthday or no. Viggo, however, didn’t start off towards the back of the house but instead led the way to the road, walking along the side with Elijah following slightly behind. He frowned as his boots sunk slightly in the mud on the roadside, but Viggo looked quite happy, face turned upwards, grinning as the rain splashed into his mouth.
“Hey Elijah, you ever skip stones?”
Elijah raised his brows, but didn’t answer as he followed Viggo down a path towards the pond that sat about half a kilometre from Viggo’s doorstep. The bank of the pond was even muddier, and Elijah briefly mourned the formerly clean cuffs of his favourite jeans, but it was somewhat amusing to watch Viggo, crouched at the edge of the water, rooting around for the perfect stone.
When he finally found a handful of acceptable pebbles, he grinned at Elijah, demonstrating the correct flick of the wrist as he sent a single stone flying at a perfect trajectory into the water. Two skips before it sank, which wasn’t bad given the driving rain. Elijah, though he tried to copy Viggo’s technique, couldn’t get more than one skip in even with three attempts.
They stood at the pond side for twenty minutes, unable to speak over the fury of the storm, until the wind began to die down and all that fell from the sky was a light mist. It was then that they decided to head back, Viggo splashing at random intervals into puddles that made Elijah squeak embarrassingly as he was drenched by the backlash.
“I have a ranch, you know,” Viggo mentioned when they were almost home. “Back in Idaho.”
Elijah raised his eyebrows, not quite pegging the mad artist for a rancher. “I thought you lived in LA.”
“Well I do, but I have a ranch. It’s great for going on holiday. I mean, Henry’s not too fond of it, but I love the horses.” Elijah nodded, having a little less trouble imagining Viggo raising horses, as the man was positively in love with Ureasus.
“You go there a lot?”
“Not really… a guy takes care of it for me. I guess I should probably sell, but I don’t have the heart to abandon it. A man needs his space, you know?”
Elijah nodded, not actually knowing but not choosing to go into it. The subject appeared to be dropped until, shaking off their wet clothing in the doorway, Viggo brought it up again.
“Do you have a special place, Elijah? Back at home?”
Elijah thought a moment, then shook his head. “Not really. I’m too young to have my own place, and there’s not much about LA that’s intrinsically special.”
“What about where you grew up? Iowa, right?”
Elijah nodded, impressed that Viggo remembered that detail. “I used to like to play at the end of the cul-de-sac, but that’s it. We grew up in suburbia, pretty much. As a teenager I spent most of my time off set in Angela’s room, or at the library.”
“The library?” Viggo questioned, and Elijah grinned at the expression on his face, knowing that he didn’t exactly come off as the most studious guy ever.
“Don’t look so shocked. I had to go there, anyway, to do my work when I was being tutored. And in reality, I spent most of my time on the computer, avoiding my work.”
“Ah, now that’s more like what I would expect.”
Elijah smiled and sat gingerly on the couch, trying not to get it to wet when Viggo did the same. “Does your son like computers much?”
“He likes video games,” Viggo replied, laughing to himself and then groaning slightly. “God, he loves them. Always making me play the damned things, and I’m horrible. Just don’t have the hand-eye coordination, I guess.”
Elijah grinned, sensing familiar territory. “Now there’s something I can do. You should fly him out here sometime. Orli and Dom and I mess around on Playstation all the time.”
Viggo smiled and nodded. “I think he’d like that. He loves Lord of the Rings; he’s really excited about seeing the set.”
“He’s read them?” Elijah asked, surprised. “And he’s how old?”
Viggo smiled, taking on the tone of a proud parent. “Eleven. Henry’s a smart kid.”
“Jesus. I could never get through something like that at that age.”
“You read scripts,” Viggo argued.
“Minor roles,” Elijah countered. “Lord of the Rings is a fucking epic.”
“Well, like I said. He’s smart.”
“Gets it from his father,” Elijah replied in a flattering tone. Viggo smiled but didn’t deny it.
Elijah wondered momentarily whether Viggo realised how unusual he was, and suspected that he probably did.
“You know, Buena Vista comes out again in New Zealand in April,” Viggo commented suddenly, changing the subject. “We should go.”
“Yeah,” Elijah agreed. “That would be fun. Maybe we could drag the guys along.”
“The hobbits?” Viggo asked, incredulously.
Viggo laughed, and Elijah joined in, imagining Dom and Orlando trying to sit through the documentary. “Maybe Billy would like it, though. I bet John would.”
Elijah pondered the idea for a moment. “Probably. We can bring Ian McKellen. Are you looking forward to meeting him?”
“Of course,” Viggo replied. “He’s an amazing actor. Have seen any of his work?”
“Not really, but I watched what I could to get ready for the shoot. I’m surprised they didn’t bring him in earlier.”
Viggo didn’t seem at all surprised that Elijah had done his homework for the shoot. In LA, he had quite the reputation for maturity and intelligence, and it was showing both in his work for this film and in his way of interacting. “He’s working on X-Men in Toronto, I think,” Viggo explained. “Liv will be gone when he shows up, anyway, so they can do his scenes when hers are already shot.”
“Oh yeah. I hope our Christmas isn’t cut too short by the delays.”
“Who knows?” Viggo shrugged. “We might get a little more in January, anyway. You’re going home, I guess?”
“To LA, yeah,” Elijah replied, looking down at his hands. “We’re spending Christmas with my grandma in Iowa though, and Zach’s coming with his wife.”
“Your brother?” Viggo asked, trying to keep up.
“Yeah,” Elijah affirmed. “He’s twenty-five. Married with a little girl, now. They still live in LA, so I see them a lot when I’m in town.”
“That must be nice,” Viggo replied. “Do you like your niece?”
“I adore her,” Elijah agreed, a smile lighting up his face at the mention of the little girl. “I can’t really see myself with kids at this point, but she’s gorgeous. Ally reminds me a bit of her, actually.” He paused for a moment, lost in thought. “But what about you? Going back to LA?”
“Yeah,” Viggo confirmed. “I’ll be there the whole time we have off, Christmas with Henry and his mother and then I think I’m just taking some time to myself in January.”
Elijah wasn’t surprised, knowing how Viggo could get when he needed his privacy. “What about the New Year? You know, this movie might be over before it starts if the Y2K predictions comes true.”
Viggo smirked at the suggestion and rolled his eyes. “Still, I’m not emptying my retirement fund just yet. I’ll probably spend the New Year’s alone with a glass of wine if I can help it. Exene will be taking Henry to her band’s New Year’s show, and I don’t really want to hang around with them for that.”
“Oh,” Elijah replied, thinking that spending the New Year alone sounded downright depressing to him. “Well, if you get lonely, give me a call.”
“Not going to any big Hollywood parties?” Viggo teased. “Come on ‘Lijah, you’re young. Don’t spend your New Year’s with a boring old codger.”
Elijah laughed, hoping that he was like Viggo when he reached “codger” age. “Hardly. For one, all those parties are lame anyway, and you never know. I might be able to convince you to come to a club with me or something.”
“Again, unlikely.”
“Well, no big deal. I can’t get into most clubs anyway, so…”
“Oh, right. Eighteen.”
“Such is life,” Elijah brushed off the statement with a nonchalant tone. “It’s even a problem here, sometimes. Liv and I tried to get into a rock club with absolutely no luck. Kind of embarrassing.”
“You just wait.” Viggo gave Elijah a sympathetic smile. “This movie’s getting hype already, I’m sure they’ll let you slide in before too long.”
“I hope so,” Elijah replied, wishing that it were true so there wouldn’t be yet another thing separating him from the rest of the cast. “Hey, I have an idea. If shooting’s delayed again, you’ll be out fairly early Thursday, right?”
“Yeah, I would imagine,” Viggo agreed.
“Well come over, then,” Elijah suggested. “I think Sean and Christine are bringing the munchkin; we’re going to do Thanksgiving at my apartment.”
“I thought you didn’t cook.”
“No,” Elijah laughed, “but Christine does. And Hannah taught me to make a mean pumpkin pie.”
“Elijah, you know pumpkin pie is nothing but canned pumpkin and evaporated milk, right?” Viggo asked with a small grin.
“Technicalities.” Elijah waved his hand in the air, dismissing the idea. “It’s still damned good. So you’re coming?”
“Yeah, sure. Why not?”
“Awesome,” Elijah replied with a grin. He really was looking forward to seeing more of Viggo without dirt all over his face and a sword at his side. “Well I should go, then. Get dried off.”
“Yeah, sorry about that.”
“No worries, man,” Elijah replied as he headed for the door. “Nothing a nice hot shower can’t cure. I’ll see you on set Monday then? I’ll bring your present.”
“You don’t have to get me…”
“Shut it. I’ll see you?”
“Yeah. Drive safe.”
“Will do. Trying not to shift into neutral by accident on the motorway, again.”
Viggo laughed and stood, pulling Elijah into a tight hug. “You do that, hobbit. See you Monday.”
“Later.”
As Elijah drove across town to his apartment, he noticed the distinctly squooshy feeling of his clothes against the leather seats, but paid it little mind. His chat with Viggo had put him in a good mood, reminding him of a Thanksgiving that wouldn’t be spent alone and the upcoming holidays with his family. With a month to go before break, things were looking pretty good.
Author: Viktoria Angelique
Email: viktoria_angelique@hotmail.com
Rating: NC-17 for series, PG for this part
Pairing: Elijah/Viggo
Warnings: BDSM overall, none this chapter
Disclaimer: If this were true the world might be a better place.
Feedback: I love it!
Summary: Long-arsed chapter featuring Viggo and Elijah, food, holidays, and rain.
A/N: Shit, sorry! Between FQF deadline and all sorts of upsetting RPG drama last night, I just completely failed to post this. Oops! Well, at least it's extra long, and only two days till the next part, which is of a decent link, at least. Also, I haven't been including previous chapters link (oops) but it's below, or rather, my fic index link is. Scroll down for previous chapters.
Previous Chapters
When Liv Tyler first arrived on set, it was a special treat. For Elijah, more than anyone else, it was a slight case of being star-struck—her dad, after all, actually wrote “Sweet Emotion” and “Walk This Way.” However, she was also the first major female actress to take a part in the film, and it was clear that everyone stood a little straighter, spoke with a little less jocular vulgarity, and paid a little bit more attention than they had previously.
For Elijah, once he got over the rock star dad connection, Liv wasn’t all that big of a deal. She treated him too much like a little brother to have a crush, and she was too flighty to be a really close friend. She and Orlando bonded right away, often with the same call time and Orlando acting as chauffeur. She did occasionally come out to the pub with the guys, and on those nights they would perhaps be a little less crass than usual, but still, she was just Liv.
Elijah had to admit he was a teeny bit disappointed.
One down, one to go, but it wasn’t as if he would have much of a chance with Cate Blanchett. Honestly, Elijah hadn’t held out too much hope that his dream girl would be either of the actresses, lovely though they may be. He supposed he could find a girl well enough outside of work, or even one of the female Elves or costume girls, and Dom and Orlando encouraged it. But no one on set really caught his eye, there was something about growing up in Hollywood that made him a bit wary of finding someone in the real world. There wasn’t anything wrong with “normal” girls, per say, but with the exception of someone from home he would be unlikely to see them after a shoot was over, and given the demands of this particular shoot, he wouldn’t have nearly enough time for a regular girlfriend regardless.
So instead, he raided Dom’s porn collection, and found a few choice pieces to get him through the lonely nights.
On one of these lonely nights, which he had planned to spend in his room with a couple of newly purchased CDs from a second-hand shop, Elijah was rudely interrupted by the phone. It was a Saturday, and they wouldn’t be working the next day, so he would bet almost anything that it was Orli, trying again to convince him to come out to the pub and have “just one drink.” His rehearsed response was ready in his head when he answered, but he was surprised to find a different accent altogether on the other end.
“Hey Elijah. I hope I didn’t ring you at a bad time.”
“No, not at all.” Elijah smiled to himself. Only Viggo would actually have the courtesy to inquire; Dom or Orlando would just ring him up at their convenience and start straight away with a request for his time.
“Good. I was wondering, what are your plans for the evening?”
“Um, I didn’t really have any. Hobbits are out but I wasn’t in the mood,” Elijah explained, suddenly feeling that he might not mind leaving the house after all.
“Ah. Just going to put on a record, relax, and enjoy the storm, huh?”
Intuitive bastard, Elijah thought with a grin. He had been in an introspective mood lately, but he wouldn’t put it to anyone else to really notice. “That’s about the size of it, yeah,” Elijah agreed.
“Well hey, if you want to be alone you’re welcome, but…”
“What’d you have in mind?” Elijah asked with a grin. Viggo didn’t know it, but he was easily the best in the bunch at manipulation. He was so damned considerate that you just wanted to do what he wanted, no matter what it was.
“Well I was thinking, you know, I caught some fish earlier, rain’s great for the catch, and I know it’s nearly nine but if you haven’t eaten…”
Elijah smiled to himself. He had been all set for an evening alone, but now, with the melodious laughing tone of Viggo’s voice on the line, he suddenly had a desire for company. “I’d love to join you. Can I bring anything?”
“Just yourself,” Viggo replied. “Oh, and why don’t you bring some music you’d like? I think my tastes might be a little obscure for what you’re used to. But I’ll see you in a few?”
“I’ll be over soon as I can.” Elijah grinned, mood brightening somewhat with the prospect of a quiet evening shared with someone much more introspective than himself, and proceeded to get ready.
The weather was mild, as summer was starting to come on full-blast in New Zealand, but he threw a charcoal jumper on over his black t-shirt in an effort to insulate slightly against the rain, and sprayed his neck lightly with cologne at the last minute. He felt a little silly—he was unlikely after all to meet a bird at Viggo’s house—but he didn’t really question himself, grabbing his leather jacket and the newly purchased CDs as he headed out into the storm.
Half an hour later, clutching the discs and a bottle of wine he had picked up on the way over, he stood on Viggo’s doorstep, looking a bit like a drowned rat. Viggo just laughed when he opened the door, ushered Elijah in, and took the wine and CDs while Elijah hung his jacket and jumper up to dry. Self-consciously, he ran a hand through his hair, but of course it just stood straight up, droplets clinging to the dull spikes, and he grinned apologetically as Viggo gestured to a place at his dining table.
“So what’ve we got here?” Viggo asked, studying the covers of the jewel cases he held in his hands. “Bright Eyes and David Mead… don’t know either of them, I’m afraid.”
“Um, put the David Mead in first. It just came out a couple of months ago; there’s this brilliant song on there that a friend emailed me on the second track.” Viggo laughed to himself as he put the disc into his stereo and let it play while he dished out the fried fish and rice he had made.
“You know, I could almost forget how young you are, Elijah, if it weren’t for the ‘emailing music’ thing,” Viggo commented with a friendly smile as he set down their food and took to pouring the wine Elijah had bought. Elijah blushed, but from Viggo it wasn’t really an insult, just a statement of fact. In fact, with Viggo, Elijah somehow felt even older than he did with the hobbits. Viggo was a smart guy—maybe it was only because he had a son of his own, but he knew how to treat Elijah as an equal rather than the kid on set.
The fish was quite good, some sort of trout fried with onions and mushrooms and garnished with lemon butter. Viggo had cooked up some rice on the side, flavoured with what looked like orange zest, and topped it off with steamed vegetables. For a bachelor, Elijah was impressed.
“This is excellent stuff, Vig. Much better than the frozen burgers I was planning on.” Viggo smiled across the table at Elijah as he sipped at his wine, stretching his legs out under the table so that the leg of his khakis just brushed Elijah’s own ankle.
“It’s not that difficult, you know. But I never cooked before I met my wife, honestly. I’ll give you that.”
“Where’d you learn?”
“It was out of necessity,” Viggo mumbled around a mouthful of fish. “Had to cook for Henry and all that. It was just mac & cheese at first, but she did the whole LA organic food kick and so I learned how to make healthy meals for the three of us. I guess it just carried over to being single again, but I don’t have much of a taste for macaroni anymore.”
Elijah grinned as he tried to scoop some restless peas onto his fork, thinking back to meals with his own family in LA.
“My mom never cooked, really. I mean she’d get decent food for us, but usually Marie Calendar frozen dinners and the like. Hannah can cook, but not like this. She makes the most amazing brownies, though.”
“Hannah’s your little sister?”
Elijah swallowed around a bite of vegetables and nodded. “Yeah. She’s fifteen now. Goes to high school in LA.”
“Did you go to the same school, then?” Viggo inquired.
“Nah, I didn’t go. Tutors and such. I did graduate, though.”
“Do you regret it?”
“I’m not sure,” Elijah answered thoughtfully. “It was a hard decision. But hey, here I am. I think I did all right.”
Viggo nodded, looking thoughtful for a second as he chewed a mouthful of rice. “Have you ever considered going to college?”
“I will if I have time,” Elijah replied with a noncommittal shrug. “But who knows. I’ve got to make money doing this while I can, right?” Viggo shrugged, seemingly not in agreement but not pressing the point either. “Did you go to college?”
“Saint Lawrence in New York state. Graduated in ’80.”
“Year before I was born,” Elijah commented with a wry little laugh, and then wondered if he shouldn’t have mentioned that. Still, Viggo just smiled in return, shaking his head a bit.
“Hard to believe, huh? Seems like ages ago, now…”
“Well, I know I’m young, but I’m mature for my age,” Elijah commented, instantly regretting the words when they left his lips. He didn’t want to sound petulant, but he also wasn’t interested in screwing up his friendship with Viggo when the other man suddenly realised that he was an eighteen-year old kid.
“Obviously, Elijah. You know, I wouldn’t have traded my childhood for anything, if I had been given the opportunity to act as a child. Hollywood…well it doesn’t seem like a place for children. It has to be insane growing up like that.”
Elijah shrugged and pushed the food around his plate, feeling a little uncomfortable. “It’s just life. I mean, that’s what I did. Some kids play a sport; I acted. It wasn’t that big of a deal, and I made big money. I’m not nearly as fucked up as most kids I grew up with—you seen Macaulay Culkin lately?”
Viggo laughed and sipped at his wine, eyes understanding as Elijah tried to explain himself.
“I know the business changes people,” Elijah went on, “but I don’t think it hurt me too much. Still, I envy you. You seem so cool with it all.”
Viggo laughed again, shaking his head, and his eyes grew distant as if reminiscing. “You know, I never really wanted to act professionally. I mean I like it fine, but like you said, it pays the bills. I’d much rather be painting or writing or something, but that’s not going to put Henry through college.”
Elijah paused for a moment, stirring his rice around with his fork before he spoke softly, meeting Viggo’s eyes. “He’s really important to you, yeah?”
“He’s my only son.”
Elijah nodded, satisfied. “Well maybe if the films do well, you know, you can go home and paint and stuff. Take some time off.”
A small smile crept onto Viggo’s face at the suggestion. “Yeah, I’d like that.” His eyes got a far-off look, suddenly, staring off into space at a point behind Elijah’s left shoulder before he continued. “I have a kind of a pipe dream; it’s silly…”
“Tell me,” Elijah encouraged when Viggo hesitated. Viggo’s eyes had an odd sort of sparkle in them, and Elijah found himself immensely curious.
“Well, I’d like to have my own company. Like a publishing company, so that I could sell my art and poetry. I don’t know if it’ll ever happen, but…”
“You should do it,” Elijah encouraged. “It sounds like a great idea to me.”
Viggo smiled and took another bite, considering. “Businesses are hard work. I don’t know that I have patience for all the nitty-gritty that goes into them, honestly.”
“So hire someone to help you,” Elijah suggested, waving his fork in the air for emphasis. “Nobody does that stuff on their own.”
“Yeah. We’ll see, I guess. But what about you? You have any plans after all this is over?”
“Nah, not really.” Elijah shrugged. “Too soon to tell. I mean, I’m hoping to get some good roles, obviously, but I don’t think that far ahead.”
Viggo smiled and took a sip of wine. “Do you have anything else you want to do outside of acting?”
“Not really…” Elijah shook his head after considering for a moment. “If I can do films for the rest of my life I probably will. If not, I don’t know. I’d like to have a record label or something; that would be pretty awesome.”
“Right,” Viggo agreed, gesturing towards the CD player with his fork. “This CD’s not bad, incidentally.”
“Yeah, he’s kind of poppy but I like it.” Elijah hummed along with ‘Touch of Mascara’ for a second, then smiled apologetically at Viggo, who was watching him curiously. “What sorts of music do you like, then? You said your tastes are pretty obscure…”
“Yeah. I like some experimental stuff, instrumental and world music. Probably not your kind of thing.”
Elijah grinned, eyes twinkling at the challenge. “Try me. You might be surprised.”
Viggo smiled and nodded, getting up from his chair and rifling through a small tower of CDs sitting on the bookshelf next to the stereo. “Here, have a listen to this.”
Elijah sat back, chewing quietly, until he began to recognize the lilting Cuban guitar track. “Hey wait! I know this!”
Viggo raised his eyebrows, slightly impressed, as he poured some more wine.
“It’s ‘Buena Vista Social Club!’” Elijah cried out. “These guys are brilliant! Have you seen the movie?” His face flushed with excitement, and Viggo smiled and nodded as Elijah gestured with his fork. “I just saw it before coming out here, it was so brilliant… when’d you get the CD?”
“Just recently, actually. I saw the movie with a friend in LA, and he sent the CD for my birthday.”
“Oh yeah? When was your birthday?”
“Um…” Viggo lowered his eyes to his plate, looking a little embarrassed. “It’s today, actually… I didn’t want to make a fuss or anything…”
Elijah’s eyes went wide and he jumped out of his seat, nearly knocking over his wine glass in the process, which Viggo reached out and steadied with lightning reflexes as Elijah hurried around the table and crushed him in an awkward hug from the side.
“Viggo! Why didn’t you tell us? Happy birthday, man! Dude, I didn’t get you anything…”
Viggo smiled and returned the hug, then released Elijah and let him return to his seat. “I didn’t want to make a fuss, like I said. It’s only forty one.”
Elijah gave him a disbelieving look, crossing his arms over his chest in defiance until Viggo smiled mockingly in return. Elijah just threw up his hands, refusing to concede the point. “You should have fun on your birthday!”
“I am having fun,” Viggo argued. “That’s why I didn’t say anything. I knew everyone would drag me out to the pub, and I’d rather be here having dinner with you than getting drunk on my birthday.”
“Oh.” Elijah thought for a moment, and nodded, seeing the sense in Viggo’s argument. Going out and getting drunk was beginning to lose its appeal for him as well, to some extent, and Viggo had probably been there and done that before Elijah was even born. “Well, I guess I’m honoured that you’d want to spend your birthday with me, then. But I feel like we should do something special to celebrate, I mean other than you cooking me dinner. Hardly seems like much of a birthday for you.”
Viggo smiled and shrugged his shoulders. “What did you have in mind?”
“Well… Elijah tapped his fingers on the table for a minute, thinking. Then, with a wide smile, he jumped up again, clearing away the dishes as he whistled along with the music. “Wait right there!” he demanded from the kitchen, and began rummaging around the room when Viggo didn’t follow.
“Hey, what are you doing to my kitchen, exactly?” Viggo called from the other room, and Elijah grinned, trying to slam the cabinets a little more quietly.
“Nothing! Just sit still! I’ll be back in a second!” Finding nothing that really resumed a baked good in the small kitchen, he frowned to himself, but then got an idea. Triumphantly, he managed to locate a pack of plain white tea candles, and removed one, setting it on the counter as he went through the fridge. A few beers sat at the back of the middle shelf, and he removed one, popping the top and setting the tea candle in its little metal holder gingerly atop the open bottle. Then, fishing a lighter out of the pocket of his jeans, he slowly returned to the main room with his carefully balanced creation. Viggo shook his head, grinning as Elijah set the bottle on the table in front of him, precariously lighting the candle.
“Hurry up,” Elijah urged. “Before I burn your whole house down.” Viggo laughed, made a quick off-the-cuff wish, and blew the candle out as Elijah whisper-sang a round of happy birthday in his ear, his chin on Viggo’s shoulder. “I couldn’t find cake,” he explained as Viggo sat the extinguished candle down next to the beer.
“You’re a very thoughtful hobbit,” Viggo praised, turning slightly to place a kiss on Elijah’s cheek. “However, you might be warned that alcohol is highly flammable.”
Elijah rolled his eyes as he returned to his seat, taking a sip of wine as Viggo started on the beer. “It wouldn’t be the first time I nearly burned something down,” he mumbled, and Viggo raised his eyebrows.
“Really?”
“Yeah. Last time it was my bedroom.” Elijah laughed lightly at the memory.
“What did you do? Forget to put out a cigarette?”
“Nah. I had a candle burning, and I kind of… well I let it tip over.” Thinking of the actual details of the situation, he realised this wasn’t exactly something he wanted to be telling Viggo, but it was too late now.
“It just tipped off the table? That’s impressive clumsiness.”
Elijah laughed, shaking his head.
“Not quite that bad. I was holding it, at the time… and I was kind of distracted. I dropped it.”
“Oh.” If Viggo had any idea what Elijah’s distraction might have been, he didn’t let on, and Elijah was glad, for though he wanted to be friends with his co-star, talking about his masturbatory activities was not his favourite way to establish a friendship.
“Anyway, I set a couple of magazines on fire and had to stamp them out. The smoke detector went off and my mom ended up setting a no flame in the house rule. Wasn’t a big deal; I didn’t smoke yet.”
“How old were you?”
“Fourteen.”
“I smoked some at that age. Quit long ago though.”
“Really? Cold turkey?”
“Yeah. It was a bitch. I still light up occasionally, but not enough to get in the habit again.”
“Oh. Well hey, speaking of which, all this talk of cigarettes… have you got a covered porch back there?” Viggo laughed and nodded.
“A little bit of one. Knock yourself out.” Elijah smiled and went to retrieve his jacket, throwing it over his shoulder without the jumper and stepping outside into the storm. Floods on the South Island were delaying filming, and he knew they were going to have to stay a little longer than expected until the Christmas break. At the moment, all the residual in Wellington was the occasional thunderstorm such as this one, and it wasn’t all that unlike LA, rain and warm weather being something Elijah was used to. What he wasn’t used to was the violent beauty of such a natural display, the sky flashing deep purple as a backdrop to the stark white bolts of lightning in the distance. It took him awhile to get his fag to light in the wind, and once he had taken a few drags, the door swung open behind him, Viggo stepping out on the porch to lean on the railing next to him. Elijah held out his pack, but Viggo shook his head, just looking out at the storm in companionable silence as Elijah slowly inhaled his nicotine fix.
“Beautiful, isn’t it?” Viggo finally commented, his voice barely loud enough to be heard over the wind. Elijah nodded, leaning back against the warm wood of the house and silently counting seconds between lightning bolt and thunder. By his estimation, the centre of the storm was nearly four kilometres away, but it seemed much closer. “I like this weather better than the real tropical squalls. I lived in Venezuela for a while when I was a kid, and Argentina. Those storms… well they’re amazing, real fear of God type stuff, but you better hope your house is securely fastened to something when one of those whips up. All that natural power in one place, well, it’s quite intense.”
Elijah thought for a moment, tracing the defined curve of Viggo’s back with his eyes, Viggo’s thin shirt a little damp with the rain being blown at the porch. He didn’t look at Elijah as he spoke, and so Elijah felt free to observe his friend as he very rarely did.
“I would think you’d like intense,” he commented quietly, noting the way Viggo’s lengthening hair was beginning to stick to his face and curl slightly.
Viggo laughed, an almost wild laughter, continuing to stare into the storm, and Elijah wondered if this was how crazy people started out.
“I like intense when my house isn’t about to be blown down,” he answered logically. “Hey, you want to go for a walk?”
Elijah raised his eyebrows, stubbed his cigarette on the railing and held it awkwardly between his fingers, not sure if Viggo would object to cigarette ends being tossed in the woods behind his house. “A walk? You are mad.”
Viggo laughed a bit, then slid into an easy grin, wrapping one arm around Elijah’s waist and squeezing him against Viggo’s side.
“I may be mad, but it’s my birthday! Come on, it’ll be fun. You’re the one who wanted to celebrate.”
“And here I was thinking a party, you know, cake…” Elijah mumbled as he went back in the house, Viggo laughing behind, and threw the end of his fag in the bin.
“Where do you want to walk to, then?”
Viggo clapped his hands together, grinning triumphantly, and almost reminded Elijah briefly of an excited four-year old girl. He laughed at the image, and Viggo eyed him quizzically as he shrugged on a worn leather jacket that looked like a vintage version of Elijah’s.
“What’s funny?”
“Oh, just… you’re quite the image, Vig,” Elijah replied, though he didn’t mean it in a pejorative way.
Viggo shrugged and held open the front door for Elijah, who took a deep breath for fortitude and then led the way out into the night, wondering if risking getting lost in the woods with his clearly insane cast mate was such a brilliant idea, birthday or no. Viggo, however, didn’t start off towards the back of the house but instead led the way to the road, walking along the side with Elijah following slightly behind. He frowned as his boots sunk slightly in the mud on the roadside, but Viggo looked quite happy, face turned upwards, grinning as the rain splashed into his mouth.
“Hey Elijah, you ever skip stones?”
Elijah raised his brows, but didn’t answer as he followed Viggo down a path towards the pond that sat about half a kilometre from Viggo’s doorstep. The bank of the pond was even muddier, and Elijah briefly mourned the formerly clean cuffs of his favourite jeans, but it was somewhat amusing to watch Viggo, crouched at the edge of the water, rooting around for the perfect stone.
When he finally found a handful of acceptable pebbles, he grinned at Elijah, demonstrating the correct flick of the wrist as he sent a single stone flying at a perfect trajectory into the water. Two skips before it sank, which wasn’t bad given the driving rain. Elijah, though he tried to copy Viggo’s technique, couldn’t get more than one skip in even with three attempts.
They stood at the pond side for twenty minutes, unable to speak over the fury of the storm, until the wind began to die down and all that fell from the sky was a light mist. It was then that they decided to head back, Viggo splashing at random intervals into puddles that made Elijah squeak embarrassingly as he was drenched by the backlash.
“I have a ranch, you know,” Viggo mentioned when they were almost home. “Back in Idaho.”
Elijah raised his eyebrows, not quite pegging the mad artist for a rancher. “I thought you lived in LA.”
“Well I do, but I have a ranch. It’s great for going on holiday. I mean, Henry’s not too fond of it, but I love the horses.” Elijah nodded, having a little less trouble imagining Viggo raising horses, as the man was positively in love with Ureasus.
“You go there a lot?”
“Not really… a guy takes care of it for me. I guess I should probably sell, but I don’t have the heart to abandon it. A man needs his space, you know?”
Elijah nodded, not actually knowing but not choosing to go into it. The subject appeared to be dropped until, shaking off their wet clothing in the doorway, Viggo brought it up again.
“Do you have a special place, Elijah? Back at home?”
Elijah thought a moment, then shook his head. “Not really. I’m too young to have my own place, and there’s not much about LA that’s intrinsically special.”
“What about where you grew up? Iowa, right?”
Elijah nodded, impressed that Viggo remembered that detail. “I used to like to play at the end of the cul-de-sac, but that’s it. We grew up in suburbia, pretty much. As a teenager I spent most of my time off set in Angela’s room, or at the library.”
“The library?” Viggo questioned, and Elijah grinned at the expression on his face, knowing that he didn’t exactly come off as the most studious guy ever.
“Don’t look so shocked. I had to go there, anyway, to do my work when I was being tutored. And in reality, I spent most of my time on the computer, avoiding my work.”
“Ah, now that’s more like what I would expect.”
Elijah smiled and sat gingerly on the couch, trying not to get it to wet when Viggo did the same. “Does your son like computers much?”
“He likes video games,” Viggo replied, laughing to himself and then groaning slightly. “God, he loves them. Always making me play the damned things, and I’m horrible. Just don’t have the hand-eye coordination, I guess.”
Elijah grinned, sensing familiar territory. “Now there’s something I can do. You should fly him out here sometime. Orli and Dom and I mess around on Playstation all the time.”
Viggo smiled and nodded. “I think he’d like that. He loves Lord of the Rings; he’s really excited about seeing the set.”
“He’s read them?” Elijah asked, surprised. “And he’s how old?”
Viggo smiled, taking on the tone of a proud parent. “Eleven. Henry’s a smart kid.”
“Jesus. I could never get through something like that at that age.”
“You read scripts,” Viggo argued.
“Minor roles,” Elijah countered. “Lord of the Rings is a fucking epic.”
“Well, like I said. He’s smart.”
“Gets it from his father,” Elijah replied in a flattering tone. Viggo smiled but didn’t deny it.
Elijah wondered momentarily whether Viggo realised how unusual he was, and suspected that he probably did.
“You know, Buena Vista comes out again in New Zealand in April,” Viggo commented suddenly, changing the subject. “We should go.”
“Yeah,” Elijah agreed. “That would be fun. Maybe we could drag the guys along.”
“The hobbits?” Viggo asked, incredulously.
Viggo laughed, and Elijah joined in, imagining Dom and Orlando trying to sit through the documentary. “Maybe Billy would like it, though. I bet John would.”
Elijah pondered the idea for a moment. “Probably. We can bring Ian McKellen. Are you looking forward to meeting him?”
“Of course,” Viggo replied. “He’s an amazing actor. Have seen any of his work?”
“Not really, but I watched what I could to get ready for the shoot. I’m surprised they didn’t bring him in earlier.”
Viggo didn’t seem at all surprised that Elijah had done his homework for the shoot. In LA, he had quite the reputation for maturity and intelligence, and it was showing both in his work for this film and in his way of interacting. “He’s working on X-Men in Toronto, I think,” Viggo explained. “Liv will be gone when he shows up, anyway, so they can do his scenes when hers are already shot.”
“Oh yeah. I hope our Christmas isn’t cut too short by the delays.”
“Who knows?” Viggo shrugged. “We might get a little more in January, anyway. You’re going home, I guess?”
“To LA, yeah,” Elijah replied, looking down at his hands. “We’re spending Christmas with my grandma in Iowa though, and Zach’s coming with his wife.”
“Your brother?” Viggo asked, trying to keep up.
“Yeah,” Elijah affirmed. “He’s twenty-five. Married with a little girl, now. They still live in LA, so I see them a lot when I’m in town.”
“That must be nice,” Viggo replied. “Do you like your niece?”
“I adore her,” Elijah agreed, a smile lighting up his face at the mention of the little girl. “I can’t really see myself with kids at this point, but she’s gorgeous. Ally reminds me a bit of her, actually.” He paused for a moment, lost in thought. “But what about you? Going back to LA?”
“Yeah,” Viggo confirmed. “I’ll be there the whole time we have off, Christmas with Henry and his mother and then I think I’m just taking some time to myself in January.”
Elijah wasn’t surprised, knowing how Viggo could get when he needed his privacy. “What about the New Year? You know, this movie might be over before it starts if the Y2K predictions comes true.”
Viggo smirked at the suggestion and rolled his eyes. “Still, I’m not emptying my retirement fund just yet. I’ll probably spend the New Year’s alone with a glass of wine if I can help it. Exene will be taking Henry to her band’s New Year’s show, and I don’t really want to hang around with them for that.”
“Oh,” Elijah replied, thinking that spending the New Year alone sounded downright depressing to him. “Well, if you get lonely, give me a call.”
“Not going to any big Hollywood parties?” Viggo teased. “Come on ‘Lijah, you’re young. Don’t spend your New Year’s with a boring old codger.”
Elijah laughed, hoping that he was like Viggo when he reached “codger” age. “Hardly. For one, all those parties are lame anyway, and you never know. I might be able to convince you to come to a club with me or something.”
“Again, unlikely.”
“Well, no big deal. I can’t get into most clubs anyway, so…”
“Oh, right. Eighteen.”
“Such is life,” Elijah brushed off the statement with a nonchalant tone. “It’s even a problem here, sometimes. Liv and I tried to get into a rock club with absolutely no luck. Kind of embarrassing.”
“You just wait.” Viggo gave Elijah a sympathetic smile. “This movie’s getting hype already, I’m sure they’ll let you slide in before too long.”
“I hope so,” Elijah replied, wishing that it were true so there wouldn’t be yet another thing separating him from the rest of the cast. “Hey, I have an idea. If shooting’s delayed again, you’ll be out fairly early Thursday, right?”
“Yeah, I would imagine,” Viggo agreed.
“Well come over, then,” Elijah suggested. “I think Sean and Christine are bringing the munchkin; we’re going to do Thanksgiving at my apartment.”
“I thought you didn’t cook.”
“No,” Elijah laughed, “but Christine does. And Hannah taught me to make a mean pumpkin pie.”
“Elijah, you know pumpkin pie is nothing but canned pumpkin and evaporated milk, right?” Viggo asked with a small grin.
“Technicalities.” Elijah waved his hand in the air, dismissing the idea. “It’s still damned good. So you’re coming?”
“Yeah, sure. Why not?”
“Awesome,” Elijah replied with a grin. He really was looking forward to seeing more of Viggo without dirt all over his face and a sword at his side. “Well I should go, then. Get dried off.”
“Yeah, sorry about that.”
“No worries, man,” Elijah replied as he headed for the door. “Nothing a nice hot shower can’t cure. I’ll see you on set Monday then? I’ll bring your present.”
“You don’t have to get me…”
“Shut it. I’ll see you?”
“Yeah. Drive safe.”
“Will do. Trying not to shift into neutral by accident on the motorway, again.”
Viggo laughed and stood, pulling Elijah into a tight hug. “You do that, hobbit. See you Monday.”
“Later.”
As Elijah drove across town to his apartment, he noticed the distinctly squooshy feeling of his clothes against the leather seats, but paid it little mind. His chat with Viggo had put him in a good mood, reminding him of a Thanksgiving that wouldn’t be spent alone and the upcoming holidays with his family. With a month to go before break, things were looking pretty good.
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Elijah so clueless.
Loves this fic.
With the end of Damaged I am eternally grateful to have this to look forward to. Badly missing House Viggo and Elijah so this is filling two voids.
Thank you
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I'm enjoying this a lot.:)
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