relax, I know how to make cement (![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png)
telesilla.livejournal.com) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
fellowshippers2004-02-15 01:21 am
telesilla.livejournal.com) wrote in fellowshippers2004-02-15 01:21 am
FIC: Art and Artist (VM/OB, Rish)
Title: Art and Artist
Author:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
telesilla
Rating: PG-13/Rish
Fandom/Pairing: Lotrips, VM/OB
Archive: Ask first
Summary: Orlando and Viggo are oddly shy with each other for the strangest reasons
Disclaimer: Not RL; didn't happen. If you think this has anything to do with the real actors involved, then you need to put down the crack pipe.
Notes: Written forthoughts_appear in the Love Letters Lotrips Valentine's Day challenge. The challenge was to take a love letter and a pairing and build a story around it. I enjoyed writing this a lot; it's my first challenge/gift fic exchange type thing and it's my first Viggo/Orli. Thank you to the Kool Kidz for looking this over at the insane hour of 3:30am. It's so not their fault if any errors were missed.
Viggo is an artist. They all discover that pretty quickly and it impresses the hell out of Orlando. It's not the partial Method of Viggo's acting, or the way his camera sees people in a way no one else does, or the little scraps of poetry that turn up in odd places, or his oddly compelling flat singing -- no, it's all of those things and the slightly mad look in his eyes that add up to make Viggo The Artist.
Orlando is a work of art. Everyone sees it right away and it amazes the hell out of Viggo. It's not the elegantly sculpted cheek bones, or the smooth way Orli moves from one position to the next during combat training, or the open easy way he smiles and laughs with such abandon, or his casual fashion sense that makes him look different and stylish at the same time -- no, it's all of those things and the slightly seductive look in his eyes that add up to make Orlando The Work of Art.
It takes a long time before people realize that they are oddly shy around each other. Not that Orlando won't tease Viggo the way he teases Bean, calling him a filthy human and accepting things like "prissy elf" in return. They're even physically comfortable with each other the way most of the cast is. But Viggo doesn't like to be alone with Orlando and Orli frequently has trouble meeting Viggo's eyes in unplanned moments.
* * *
"What's with you and the Elf?" Bean asks Viggo one night at the pub as they play darts while the Hobbits and Orli play pool.
"What do you mean?" Viggo says, after a carefully placed throw to the 12 that he's missed three times before. "He's a nice kid."
"No," Sean says, while Viggo pulls his darts off the board. "Henry's a nice kid. Orlando is the only one of us that you don't study like he's the subject of your next work."
"Orlando...." Viggo falls silent. Sean for all his friendliness and his understanding of Viggo's odd flights of fancy, won't understand if Viggo says that Orlando's perfection intimidates Viggo's muse. It's not like Viggo hasn't tried to write poetry or capture Orlando in pencils or paint, it's just that.... "Orlando eludes me," he finally murmurs and Sean, knowing when to quit, lets it go.
* * *
"Why don't you look at Vig?" Dom asks as they stand in the car park outside the pub, Dom catching a breath of fresh air and Orli smoking one of the cloves he caged off Lij earlier.
"I look at him," Orlando says, kicking at the gravel and silently damning Dom for being so observant.
"No you look at Bean and Craig and Karl like you're at some all you can eat lunch place," Dom says. "You look around Viggo."
"Viggo...." Orlando takes another drag of the harsh sweet cigarette. He doesn't have the words to explain it and Dom, for all his shrewd cleverness, won't get it if Orli says that Viggo's creativity is almost too much to take. It's not like Orlando hasn't wanted to spend time with Viggo, it's just that.... "Vig's too intense at times," he says, dropping and stepping on the cigarette before heading back to the bar to forestall any more questions from Dom, who doesn't always know when to quit.
* * *
Four months of night shoots have done something very strange to Orlando and Viggo. Orli's drawn and pale and his back hurts like hell and he saves all his grace for the cameras. Even the easy laughter sounds forced at times. Viggo's too tired to paint or write and he's grumpy and he saves his mad intensity for the battles. Even his singing gets lost among the Maori haka from the angry orcs.
"I want to go out dancing now that we're done," Orlando says to Craig tiredly as they walk to their cars, "but I can't even imagine what I'd wear and I think I've forgotten how to dance."
"I was trying to write something," Viggo says to John, just a few feet away, "but I think my muse left me for someone who sees daylight every once in a while."
Someone calls for Viggo's attention and when he turns back it's to see Orlando staring disconsolately at his car in the rapidly emptying car park.
"What's up?"
"Fucking nail in the tyre. Don't have a spare." Orlando scrubs a hand over his scruffy mohawk and looks at Viggo. "I'm almost too tired to care."
He looks it too, Viggo thinks. I've never seen him looking so ... ordinary.
"Too tired," Viggo replies. "God you can say that again."
A cliche from Vig? Orlando thinks. I've never heard him sound so ... normal.
On the way back into town, Orlando falls into that weird waking sleep state where he can hear everything around him but can't respond to it. Viggo is singing something and after a minute Orlando recognizes Blondie's "Heart of Glass" which seems about as unViggo as he can imagine. It's comforting in a weird way and Orlando drifts off into true sleep.
When they pull up to Orlando's place, Orlando is fast asleep and Viggo can't help smiling. He's wired and he's moved on to "Call Me," and the idea of trying to get Orli into his own bed is ridiculous. Orli's slept on couches all over New Zealand; one more won't hurt him.
By the time they get to Viggo's place Orlando is snoring and Viggo's surprised at how much of "Rapture" he remembers. "C'mon," he says helping Orlando out of the car and smiling at the damp patch on Orli's tee shirt.
"Huh?" Orlando mumbles, as his feet don't go they way they want to. "Oh look .... the moon, 's pretty tonight with the clouds over it like lace" he adds as Viggo digs for his keys. Normally he'd feel stupid saying something like that around Viggo but he's too tired to worry.
"Didn't even notice," Viggo replies, unlocking the door and guiding Orlando through and gesturing to the couch with a showy courtly gesture. Normally he'd feel awkward doing something like that around Orlando but he's too tired to think about it.
They're both half asleep by the time Orlando gets settled on the couch and it's all Viggo can do to pull his jeans off and fall in bed in a tee shirt and nothing before he's fast asleep.
When Viggo wakes up, the lazy afternoon light he loves is streaming in the window and there's someone in bed with him.
"You're not so intense when you're singing old Blondie songs," Orlando says, sliding easily down next to Viggo with a wicked little grin.
"And you're not so intimidating when you're drooling in your sleep," Viggo replies, pulling Orlando into his arms and absently noticing the way the light casts shadows across curtains behind Orlando's head.
Later Viggo will realize that when it comes to making love, Orlando is an artist; innovative and endlessly creative. He's also enthusiastic, raunchy and a little greedy, crying out for more and even more as Viggo thrusts up into him.
Later Orlando will realize that when it comes to making love, Viggo is a work of art, beautiful and endlessly inspiring. He's also fervent, inventive and very generous, urging Orlando on with raspy moans as Orlando moves over him.
* * * *
After that day they make attempts -- one of them trying to be more like the other -- and then laugh at themselves together. Viggo tries to dress stylishly and then spends the evening wondering when his jeans are gonna slide all the way off his ass, or pondering why Doc Martens are so damn heavy. Orlando takes pictures and is sure the composition is lousy or the lighting is bad.
It becomes their in joke as they discover that Artist and Work of Art are -- not unsurprising to anyone but themselves -- a good match.
And so Viggo deliberately dresses badly and insists it's the latest thing, dances bizarrely and insists that's the way people dance at trendy clubs in LA. But he does it when they're alone, just to see Orli laugh because then, when Orli's done laughing, he'll tell Viggo how sexy he is and when Orli says it, Viggo believes it.
And Orlando? Orlando writes poetic love letters.
Dearest Viggo,
Roses are red,
Violets are blue,
Sugar is sweet,
I love you (even though you are human scum)
He slips them under Viggo's pillow and Viggo reads them and laughs, and when he's done laughing, he'll tell Orlando how creative he is and when Viggo says it, Orlando believes it.
end
Author:
telesillaRating: PG-13/Rish
Fandom/Pairing: Lotrips, VM/OB
Archive: Ask first
Summary: Orlando and Viggo are oddly shy with each other for the strangest reasons
Disclaimer: Not RL; didn't happen. If you think this has anything to do with the real actors involved, then you need to put down the crack pipe.
Notes: Written for
thoughts_appear in the Love Letters Lotrips Valentine's Day challenge. The challenge was to take a love letter and a pairing and build a story around it. I enjoyed writing this a lot; it's my first challenge/gift fic exchange type thing and it's my first Viggo/Orli. Thank you to the Kool Kidz for looking this over at the insane hour of 3:30am. It's so not their fault if any errors were missed.Viggo is an artist. They all discover that pretty quickly and it impresses the hell out of Orlando. It's not the partial Method of Viggo's acting, or the way his camera sees people in a way no one else does, or the little scraps of poetry that turn up in odd places, or his oddly compelling flat singing -- no, it's all of those things and the slightly mad look in his eyes that add up to make Viggo The Artist.
Orlando is a work of art. Everyone sees it right away and it amazes the hell out of Viggo. It's not the elegantly sculpted cheek bones, or the smooth way Orli moves from one position to the next during combat training, or the open easy way he smiles and laughs with such abandon, or his casual fashion sense that makes him look different and stylish at the same time -- no, it's all of those things and the slightly seductive look in his eyes that add up to make Orlando The Work of Art.
It takes a long time before people realize that they are oddly shy around each other. Not that Orlando won't tease Viggo the way he teases Bean, calling him a filthy human and accepting things like "prissy elf" in return. They're even physically comfortable with each other the way most of the cast is. But Viggo doesn't like to be alone with Orlando and Orli frequently has trouble meeting Viggo's eyes in unplanned moments.
* * *
"What's with you and the Elf?" Bean asks Viggo one night at the pub as they play darts while the Hobbits and Orli play pool.
"What do you mean?" Viggo says, after a carefully placed throw to the 12 that he's missed three times before. "He's a nice kid."
"No," Sean says, while Viggo pulls his darts off the board. "Henry's a nice kid. Orlando is the only one of us that you don't study like he's the subject of your next work."
"Orlando...." Viggo falls silent. Sean for all his friendliness and his understanding of Viggo's odd flights of fancy, won't understand if Viggo says that Orlando's perfection intimidates Viggo's muse. It's not like Viggo hasn't tried to write poetry or capture Orlando in pencils or paint, it's just that.... "Orlando eludes me," he finally murmurs and Sean, knowing when to quit, lets it go.
* * *
"Why don't you look at Vig?" Dom asks as they stand in the car park outside the pub, Dom catching a breath of fresh air and Orli smoking one of the cloves he caged off Lij earlier.
"I look at him," Orlando says, kicking at the gravel and silently damning Dom for being so observant.
"No you look at Bean and Craig and Karl like you're at some all you can eat lunch place," Dom says. "You look around Viggo."
"Viggo...." Orlando takes another drag of the harsh sweet cigarette. He doesn't have the words to explain it and Dom, for all his shrewd cleverness, won't get it if Orli says that Viggo's creativity is almost too much to take. It's not like Orlando hasn't wanted to spend time with Viggo, it's just that.... "Vig's too intense at times," he says, dropping and stepping on the cigarette before heading back to the bar to forestall any more questions from Dom, who doesn't always know when to quit.
* * *
Four months of night shoots have done something very strange to Orlando and Viggo. Orli's drawn and pale and his back hurts like hell and he saves all his grace for the cameras. Even the easy laughter sounds forced at times. Viggo's too tired to paint or write and he's grumpy and he saves his mad intensity for the battles. Even his singing gets lost among the Maori haka from the angry orcs.
"I want to go out dancing now that we're done," Orlando says to Craig tiredly as they walk to their cars, "but I can't even imagine what I'd wear and I think I've forgotten how to dance."
"I was trying to write something," Viggo says to John, just a few feet away, "but I think my muse left me for someone who sees daylight every once in a while."
Someone calls for Viggo's attention and when he turns back it's to see Orlando staring disconsolately at his car in the rapidly emptying car park.
"What's up?"
"Fucking nail in the tyre. Don't have a spare." Orlando scrubs a hand over his scruffy mohawk and looks at Viggo. "I'm almost too tired to care."
He looks it too, Viggo thinks. I've never seen him looking so ... ordinary.
"Too tired," Viggo replies. "God you can say that again."
A cliche from Vig? Orlando thinks. I've never heard him sound so ... normal.
On the way back into town, Orlando falls into that weird waking sleep state where he can hear everything around him but can't respond to it. Viggo is singing something and after a minute Orlando recognizes Blondie's "Heart of Glass" which seems about as unViggo as he can imagine. It's comforting in a weird way and Orlando drifts off into true sleep.
When they pull up to Orlando's place, Orlando is fast asleep and Viggo can't help smiling. He's wired and he's moved on to "Call Me," and the idea of trying to get Orli into his own bed is ridiculous. Orli's slept on couches all over New Zealand; one more won't hurt him.
By the time they get to Viggo's place Orlando is snoring and Viggo's surprised at how much of "Rapture" he remembers. "C'mon," he says helping Orlando out of the car and smiling at the damp patch on Orli's tee shirt.
"Huh?" Orlando mumbles, as his feet don't go they way they want to. "Oh look .... the moon, 's pretty tonight with the clouds over it like lace" he adds as Viggo digs for his keys. Normally he'd feel stupid saying something like that around Viggo but he's too tired to worry.
"Didn't even notice," Viggo replies, unlocking the door and guiding Orlando through and gesturing to the couch with a showy courtly gesture. Normally he'd feel awkward doing something like that around Orlando but he's too tired to think about it.
They're both half asleep by the time Orlando gets settled on the couch and it's all Viggo can do to pull his jeans off and fall in bed in a tee shirt and nothing before he's fast asleep.
When Viggo wakes up, the lazy afternoon light he loves is streaming in the window and there's someone in bed with him.
"You're not so intense when you're singing old Blondie songs," Orlando says, sliding easily down next to Viggo with a wicked little grin.
"And you're not so intimidating when you're drooling in your sleep," Viggo replies, pulling Orlando into his arms and absently noticing the way the light casts shadows across curtains behind Orlando's head.
Later Viggo will realize that when it comes to making love, Orlando is an artist; innovative and endlessly creative. He's also enthusiastic, raunchy and a little greedy, crying out for more and even more as Viggo thrusts up into him.
Later Orlando will realize that when it comes to making love, Viggo is a work of art, beautiful and endlessly inspiring. He's also fervent, inventive and very generous, urging Orlando on with raspy moans as Orlando moves over him.
* * * *
After that day they make attempts -- one of them trying to be more like the other -- and then laugh at themselves together. Viggo tries to dress stylishly and then spends the evening wondering when his jeans are gonna slide all the way off his ass, or pondering why Doc Martens are so damn heavy. Orlando takes pictures and is sure the composition is lousy or the lighting is bad.
It becomes their in joke as they discover that Artist and Work of Art are -- not unsurprising to anyone but themselves -- a good match.
And so Viggo deliberately dresses badly and insists it's the latest thing, dances bizarrely and insists that's the way people dance at trendy clubs in LA. But he does it when they're alone, just to see Orli laugh because then, when Orli's done laughing, he'll tell Viggo how sexy he is and when Orli says it, Viggo believes it.
And Orlando? Orlando writes poetic love letters.
Dearest Viggo,
Roses are red,
Violets are blue,
Sugar is sweet,
I love you (even though you are human scum)
He slips them under Viggo's pillow and Viggo reads them and laughs, and when he's done laughing, he'll tell Orlando how creative he is and when Viggo says it, Orlando believes it.
end