karelian (
karelian) wrote in
fellowshippers2002-12-25 02:22 pm
Fic: We Two Kings (Holiday Schmoopiness)
Title: We Two Kings 1/1
Author: Karelian
Rating: RPS. PG. Please do not read this if you are under 18.
Summary: Happy Holidays, Viggo. Love, Sean.
Notes: For Cinzia, of course, with hugs to SavageSeraph, Divineway and the rest of you.
Disclaimer: This story uses the real names of celebrities but is completely and totally fiction. No disrespect intended.
The hobbits called from the house they were sharing for the holidays to tell him they missed him. Viggo could hear how drunk they were but even that made him nostalgic. They had sent him a strange assortment of books and postcards from their travels -- some that seemed calculated to impress, some that seemed crazy. Plus socks and a red necktie. He didn't dare guess which of them had picked that out.
Ian sent a card. So did John. So did Hugo. Cate didn't, but Viggo hadn't expected her to. Liv sent a photo of herself in costume from one of their scenes together, signed "your wife," with her fiancé's name beneath. Viggo was a little surprised not to hear from Miranda, but he wasn't sure where in the world she'd gone the past couple of months -- everywhere, it seemed from reports, but no place in particular when he asked after her.
Orlando sent bubble bath. Viggo thought it was another smelly human joke until he read the print on the advertisement that had been carefully folded around the packets. Then he wondered whether one of the others had put Orlando up to sending it. He didn't think Orlando had even been in England when the package was mailed. Karl might have known but Karl had disappeared after the last big press junket without calling to say goodbye. It had been a little much for all of them.
Viggo had planned to send cards, nothing fancy, just notebook pages, but the time had gotten away from him so he settled for phone calls when he could. Got Peter on his cell in the middle of the night, and Ian on location when they were in the same time zone. Kiran was away and nobody answered at Dave's. Elijah called again when he was sober and passed on greetings from some of the doubles who'd talked to some of the rest of them.
Viggo knew exactly when to call London. With the time difference, he'd calculated a narrow interval between probable arrival at the theater and getting too close to curtain. But he missed the opportunity a couple of days with work, and once distracted by something he needed to write down before he forgot it, and once on the phone too long with publicity people who wouldn't go away. He was starting to think he'd fucked up. None of them heard all that often from Sean, who had been understandably busy, but it felt a little too much like the Fellowship was breaking and he could have done something about it.
When the package caught up with him, he assumed at first that it had to be another joke from the kids, or something that a strange Scottish fan had gotten someone to forward to him. Whisky wasn't his drink and the hideous tartan boxers had yellow stripes amidst the blues and reds. Then he read the note and started to laugh. Dialed the number even though he had no idea exactly what time it was. Left a message, one king to another.
"Hey, you, still treading the primrose path," he beamed when Sean finally caught him on Christmas Eve. "Thought you'd learned your lesson."
"Yeah, and I die every night," chuckled Sean. "All for bloody Scotland. It's freezing there this time of year. You've got me beat anyway -- I hear you're the king of Hollywood now."
"Till they run me out of town. Next year when all this is over, we should take a vacation. Go be kings of the road." He hadn't really thought before speaking, but as soon as the words were out, Viggo knew that was what he really wanted even if he didn't get it as a Christmas present. He could wait till Macbeth and New Line were through with them.
"One day our paths will lead us there," Sean said in Boromir's accent. "What are you doing for the holidays?"
"Thought I'd do something kingly and indulgent like take a bubble bath." An earful of groaning laughter rang through the long-distance connection. "But I wasn't kidding, before. Road trip. Field and fountain, moor and mountain. You and me."
"As soon as we abdicate our thrones," agreed Sean. "And hey. Merry Christmas."
Author: Karelian
Rating: RPS. PG. Please do not read this if you are under 18.
Summary: Happy Holidays, Viggo. Love, Sean.
Notes: For Cinzia, of course, with hugs to SavageSeraph, Divineway and the rest of you.
Disclaimer: This story uses the real names of celebrities but is completely and totally fiction. No disrespect intended.
The hobbits called from the house they were sharing for the holidays to tell him they missed him. Viggo could hear how drunk they were but even that made him nostalgic. They had sent him a strange assortment of books and postcards from their travels -- some that seemed calculated to impress, some that seemed crazy. Plus socks and a red necktie. He didn't dare guess which of them had picked that out.
Ian sent a card. So did John. So did Hugo. Cate didn't, but Viggo hadn't expected her to. Liv sent a photo of herself in costume from one of their scenes together, signed "your wife," with her fiancé's name beneath. Viggo was a little surprised not to hear from Miranda, but he wasn't sure where in the world she'd gone the past couple of months -- everywhere, it seemed from reports, but no place in particular when he asked after her.
Orlando sent bubble bath. Viggo thought it was another smelly human joke until he read the print on the advertisement that had been carefully folded around the packets. Then he wondered whether one of the others had put Orlando up to sending it. He didn't think Orlando had even been in England when the package was mailed. Karl might have known but Karl had disappeared after the last big press junket without calling to say goodbye. It had been a little much for all of them.
Viggo had planned to send cards, nothing fancy, just notebook pages, but the time had gotten away from him so he settled for phone calls when he could. Got Peter on his cell in the middle of the night, and Ian on location when they were in the same time zone. Kiran was away and nobody answered at Dave's. Elijah called again when he was sober and passed on greetings from some of the doubles who'd talked to some of the rest of them.
Viggo knew exactly when to call London. With the time difference, he'd calculated a narrow interval between probable arrival at the theater and getting too close to curtain. But he missed the opportunity a couple of days with work, and once distracted by something he needed to write down before he forgot it, and once on the phone too long with publicity people who wouldn't go away. He was starting to think he'd fucked up. None of them heard all that often from Sean, who had been understandably busy, but it felt a little too much like the Fellowship was breaking and he could have done something about it.
When the package caught up with him, he assumed at first that it had to be another joke from the kids, or something that a strange Scottish fan had gotten someone to forward to him. Whisky wasn't his drink and the hideous tartan boxers had yellow stripes amidst the blues and reds. Then he read the note and started to laugh. Dialed the number even though he had no idea exactly what time it was. Left a message, one king to another.
"Hey, you, still treading the primrose path," he beamed when Sean finally caught him on Christmas Eve. "Thought you'd learned your lesson."
"Yeah, and I die every night," chuckled Sean. "All for bloody Scotland. It's freezing there this time of year. You've got me beat anyway -- I hear you're the king of Hollywood now."
"Till they run me out of town. Next year when all this is over, we should take a vacation. Go be kings of the road." He hadn't really thought before speaking, but as soon as the words were out, Viggo knew that was what he really wanted even if he didn't get it as a Christmas present. He could wait till Macbeth and New Line were through with them.
"One day our paths will lead us there," Sean said in Boromir's accent. "What are you doing for the holidays?"
"Thought I'd do something kingly and indulgent like take a bubble bath." An earful of groaning laughter rang through the long-distance connection. "But I wasn't kidding, before. Road trip. Field and fountain, moor and mountain. You and me."
"As soon as we abdicate our thrones," agreed Sean. "And hey. Merry Christmas."

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*rolls on the floor*
I love you so much.
Road trip. Field and fountain, moor and mountain. You and me.
The perfect Christmas gift. Thank you! :)
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Merry Christmas, Minion of Satan!
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Oh yes, much with the camping & the poignancy of not being able to say goodbye (and squee! Karl mention!) and abdicating. Perfect.
*mwah*
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Isn't someone's birthday next month? *g*
Re:
Yes, yes, it is. Karlfic!!!
*grins*
*whistles innocently*
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*cries* Dammit.
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Happy holidays!
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