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fellowshippers2002-08-27 05:01 pm
azewewish.livejournal.com) wrote in fellowshippers2002-08-27 05:01 pm
FIC: "Hope" (Fate Part Five) KU/OB
Title: “Hope” 1/1
Series: “Fate” (Part Five)
Author: Brenda
Pairing: Orlando Bloom/Karl Urban
Rating: PG
Summary: Karl faces his fears.
Website: The Rolling Smut Factory
Archive: Beyond the Fellowship, The Factory.
Feedback: As always, much appreciated.
Disclaimer: Never happened. Cha.
Notes: Hmm...is it repetitive that I keep thanking C.? *laughs*
“And if I can't sleep, can you hold my life
And all I see is you...
And I believe in you
You're the other half of me”
--Smashing Pumpkins
Karl rubbed damp palms along his jeans, watched the cabbie drive off. Too late to turn back--course was set. Don’t hope, *don’t* hope. He’s lonely; he just wants someone to keep him company. Except...it was the middle of the night. And Orli was probably asleep. Karl sighed...didn’t matter. He’d made a promise to come. He could do this.
He walked slowly up Orli’s front steps, smelled salt, tasted the ocean air. And was suddenly so homesick he could see his own house by the sea, pretend he was home. And...even more dangerously...pretend that Orli was inside, waiting for an entirely different reason.
He let himself in with the key Orli had insisted he keep, padded through the familiar living room, down the hall to the never-forgotten bedroom. Even in the shadows, everything looked the same. Clothes strewn on the floor, papers and scripts in haphazard piles on the dresser and nightstand. Art on the walls, including a Viggo Mortensen original (and, if Karl thought about it, really thought...he could *almost* remember the carefree happiness of the day Viggo had given it to Orli, remember the old days, back before he’d given his soul to Orli...back before Orli had started to unwittingly shatter him into small pieces). And finally, the bed--still the same four-poster king-sized monstrosity bought by Orli with one person in mind, but shared with another. Shared with Karl.
His gaze finally rested on the warm, restlessly sleeping figure sprawled in the middle of the bed. How odd that just the sight of tousled curls and patches of sun-kissed skin caused Karl’s throat to close, his palms to itch.
Take the step. Follow through. And another. And another. Stand beside the bed, ignore the trembling in your limbs, your fingers, as you brush back a few strands of springy hair from Orli’s face. Pay no attention to the tears threatening to fall behind your eyelids, the love swamping you, the despair overwhelming you. He’d asked you to come. It would have to be enough.
Karl quietly slipped off his shoes, threw off his shirt, slid under the soft, cotton sheets, body weighing down the mattress. Immediately, instinctually, Orli rolled into him, plastered himself on top of Karl. Just like Karl had never left.
“I love you,” Karl whispered, the words so fucking inadequate. But they were all he had left. “So much, Orli...so much...” Closed his arms around Orli, felt the heat, the pull--the *rightness* of it all. “I’m here now.” Another promise. Another one he’d break come morning.
Orli quieted, soft whimpers giving way to even breathing. Karl ran a hand through soft curls, massaging Orli’s scalp the way he'd always loved best. So many little things, so many ways Karl used to bring Orli peace. Back before peace became a lie. Back before the memories got to be too much. So many little things...and Karl remembered them all. If he’d still owned his soul, he’d sell it to forget.
The joy may have been worth it, but the pain was going to kill him, anyway.
* * *
Series: “Fate” (Part Five)
Author: Brenda
Pairing: Orlando Bloom/Karl Urban
Rating: PG
Summary: Karl faces his fears.
Website: The Rolling Smut Factory
Archive: Beyond the Fellowship, The Factory.
Feedback: As always, much appreciated.
Disclaimer: Never happened. Cha.
Notes: Hmm...is it repetitive that I keep thanking C.? *laughs*
“And if I can't sleep, can you hold my life
And all I see is you...
And I believe in you
You're the other half of me”
--Smashing Pumpkins
Karl rubbed damp palms along his jeans, watched the cabbie drive off. Too late to turn back--course was set. Don’t hope, *don’t* hope. He’s lonely; he just wants someone to keep him company. Except...it was the middle of the night. And Orli was probably asleep. Karl sighed...didn’t matter. He’d made a promise to come. He could do this.
He walked slowly up Orli’s front steps, smelled salt, tasted the ocean air. And was suddenly so homesick he could see his own house by the sea, pretend he was home. And...even more dangerously...pretend that Orli was inside, waiting for an entirely different reason.
He let himself in with the key Orli had insisted he keep, padded through the familiar living room, down the hall to the never-forgotten bedroom. Even in the shadows, everything looked the same. Clothes strewn on the floor, papers and scripts in haphazard piles on the dresser and nightstand. Art on the walls, including a Viggo Mortensen original (and, if Karl thought about it, really thought...he could *almost* remember the carefree happiness of the day Viggo had given it to Orli, remember the old days, back before he’d given his soul to Orli...back before Orli had started to unwittingly shatter him into small pieces). And finally, the bed--still the same four-poster king-sized monstrosity bought by Orli with one person in mind, but shared with another. Shared with Karl.
His gaze finally rested on the warm, restlessly sleeping figure sprawled in the middle of the bed. How odd that just the sight of tousled curls and patches of sun-kissed skin caused Karl’s throat to close, his palms to itch.
Take the step. Follow through. And another. And another. Stand beside the bed, ignore the trembling in your limbs, your fingers, as you brush back a few strands of springy hair from Orli’s face. Pay no attention to the tears threatening to fall behind your eyelids, the love swamping you, the despair overwhelming you. He’d asked you to come. It would have to be enough.
Karl quietly slipped off his shoes, threw off his shirt, slid under the soft, cotton sheets, body weighing down the mattress. Immediately, instinctually, Orli rolled into him, plastered himself on top of Karl. Just like Karl had never left.
“I love you,” Karl whispered, the words so fucking inadequate. But they were all he had left. “So much, Orli...so much...” Closed his arms around Orli, felt the heat, the pull--the *rightness* of it all. “I’m here now.” Another promise. Another one he’d break come morning.
Orli quieted, soft whimpers giving way to even breathing. Karl ran a hand through soft curls, massaging Orli’s scalp the way he'd always loved best. So many little things, so many ways Karl used to bring Orli peace. Back before peace became a lie. Back before the memories got to be too much. So many little things...and Karl remembered them all. If he’d still owned his soul, he’d sell it to forget.
The joy may have been worth it, but the pain was going to kill him, anyway.
* * *
Re: Hope
Thanks, hon!!
2 more parts to go. Let me know what you think of the ending.