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Jun. 13th, 2006 08:31 pm![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
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vigorliA Life Known
Moving On Chapter 8/?
Beta: None just my own lousy writing forgive me.
Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. Non profit. Yada Yada!!
A/N: one more chapter of separate stories and then we will have our men meet!
Please please leave feedback it helps the muses think better!!
Based on the movie Return To Me.
Viggo had all but put his life on hold after his wife had died. After her funeral, he had talked to his agent and told him he was going to take some time to figure some things out. He needed time to reevaluate his life. The movie he had just done would have to go on without him, he couldn’t even fathom going to any of the premiers now, not now, not that she had died… they had died. He knew the fans would understand, but his agent, he hadn’t been very happy. He didn’t care though; he didn’t care about anything at this point.
He packed all his stuff up and went up into his cabin in Idaho, and just hibernated there. He occasionally made his way into the nearby small town, but that was about as much as he could do, or about as much as he wanted to face people. The townspeople were very nice to him when he came in. They knew what had happened and knew that Viggo wanted his privacy, and they respected that. So they had left him alone basically, they gave the occasional nod when they met him on the streets, but other than that they let him be. That’s what Viggo loved about this place. People minded their own damn business.
He spent most of his time taking care of his horses. The neighbors usually took care of them when he was absent. It was a great arrangement for him, and they had the joy of riding the horses in return whenever they wanted to. With his spare time he painted and he wrote poetry. He didn’t have much inspiration for either one, but when he finally did sit down and write, the poems were about death and loneliness and his painting had taken on the form of dark and bleak colors.
His agent had called several times about a job here or there and Viggo had so not politely declined. Said he wasn’t interested. He wanted to be left alone. Period!
He had just come into the cabin from tending his horses and the phone stared to ring.
He growled when he heard it, he figured it was his agent again. Damn man wouldn’t leave him alone! He walked over to the phone and looked at the caller ID that he had gotten to avoid those calls, and would still be able to answer the calls from Christine’s family, whom he still loved dearly.
They had seemed to be doing better then he had, going on with their lives more then he was. He almost laughed at that. Life, what kind of life was he living?
The number on the phone was unfamiliar and had lot of numbers. Long distance he noticed, and international. He thought a minute, debating whether to pick it up or not, and then picked up. “Hello.”
“Is this Viggo Mortensen?’ the caller asked in an accented voice.
“Yeah, who’s this?” he asked, he was rather abrupt but he didn’t care,
“Ah, I’m Peter Jackson, I’m a director here in New Zealand.” He said politely. “Um, your agent gave me your number and suggested that I could call you.”
“Oh really?” he asked with sarcasm. “Well wasn’t that nice of him.”
Peter noted the anger in the mans voice. Viggos agent had told Peter about his wife’s death and how Viggo wasn’t interested in doing any work, and had said so when Peter called him. But Peter had explained to him how they had to recast the role in his current picture and how he was desperate for Viggo. His wife and the other writer Phillipa had seen him in the movie G.I. Jane and thought he would be perfect for the part and they wanted him very badly now. The agent laughed and gave Peter the number and told him good luck and to expect to be hung up on. Peter agreed and took the number and said he would bear in mind the accident and be honest with him and to do his best.
“Yeah, Um Viggo. I am in the process of making this movie called the Lord of the Rings… and the actor who we had picked out didn’t have the right angle for the part, and my wife suggested you after she had watched a movie you had done, and thought you would be perfect for the part.” Peter paused for a minute and waited for the actor to flat out refuse or cuss him out or something, but it was quiet on the other end of the line so he continued.
Your agent had told me about your wife Viggo, and I just want to say I am very sorry to hear about what happened and can’t imagine what you must be going through.”
Viggo face took a stern look and he about to tell Peter what he could do with his job offer, but Peter continued rambling and didn’t give him any room for interruption.
“This is a beautiful country Viggo, lots of wonderful people, away from the hustle of Hollywood, we have a wonderful staff here, and I would be really, really, be grateful if you would at least think about taking the part. Its one of the lead characters and an important part of the filming process that needs to be done right away.” He took a breath.
Viggo sat back in the chair and pinched the bridge of his nose. Maybe he needed to get away. Really away. He had always wanted to go to New Zealand. “Can I call you back um, Peter is it?”
“Yes, yes of course Viggo. But I need to know right away, we are just getting ready to start principal photography and we need you here as soon as possible. We’re kind of in a crunch so to speak.”
“Okay,” he sighed after a moment can I call you tomorrow?”
“Yes, that will be fine Viggo, I really appreciate you taking the time for me and I hope we will be working together and fulfill this dream of mine to make these movies.”
Viggo nodded, the guy sounded nice, sincere, even when he had brought up the subject of his wife.
“I’ll give you a call tomorrow then,” he said and hung up the phone. He sat in the chair for a while staring out at the trees on his ranch. He ran his hand through his uncombed hair. He didn’t know what to do. Was he really ready to go at it again? Would it get his mind off the pain of the loss? He got up and walked over to the fridge and grabbed a beer and sat down in his favorite chair by the fireplace. This was his and Christine’s favorite part of the house, right next to the fireplace with two chairs close together and a beautiful rug that was so soft to sit on. They had spent countless ours in front of the roaring fire talking late into the night. He leaned over and gently took hold of the picture of his wife that he had placed there over a year ago. This was the last picture that had been taken of her, before her death. He stared at it for some time, his fingers lightly going over her face before he turned it around and took the envelope that was taped on the back of the picture off. He opened the envelope and pulled out the single sheet of stationary that came out. It was from the recipient of Christine’s heart. He had received it months ago and hadn’t had the courage to open it and read it contents. But he did now.
//Dear family,
I am writing this letter to let you know I am the one who has been lucky enough to receive your loved ones heart.
Viggo paused as he felt the lump well up in his throat. But he took a deep breath before he continued.
I want you to know that I am eternally grateful for the gift of life that has been returned to me. I was on deaths door the day the doctor came and told me they had found a match for me.
I decided at that time with the help of my family, to make you and your loved one proud of the way I will live my life, and to live it the best that I can. I strive each day to pray and thank god that they had thought about the gift of organ donation.
I know it must be difficult for you each day to live in the knowledge of your loved ones passing.
Viggo paused and lay the letter down on his lap and lay his head back on the chair his lips quivering, and his heart aching, his eyes stinging from the oncoming burst of tears. He took another deep breath and tried to clear his eyes so he could continue.
Maybe one day we will meet. Then I can thank you in person for the greatest gift that I have ever received and to which no other gift could ever come close to.
I am trying to go on with my life now, as I had thought I would not have one to live. I will live each day with the memory of the one who has given me life again.
Thank you so much.//
Viggo cried as he finished the letter, his tears falling gently on the single piece of paper he held in his hands. The person who received her heart seemed to be a wonderful person. He was very grateful that he had read the letter now, even though it had hurt him to do so. It had brought back painful memories, but also it had brought the fact that his wife’s death wasn’t in vain, and that a wonderful, caring person lived on, and had a part of her with them.
This person said, as he read the letter again. That they were trying to go on with their life now. He knew he should do the same. It had been over a year since her death. It was at that point that he decided that he would take the job in New Zealand. He needed to take the job. He needed to get back to living his life. The life that Christine would of wanted him to live. He wiped his face with the back of his hand and set the picture and letter down carefully on the table.
He got up and went over to the phone and dialed the number.
“Hello?’ the accented voice said.
“Uh, Peter,”
“Yes, yes is this Viggo? I didn’t expect to hear from you so soon,” he said nervously, is this a good sign or bad he thought to himself?
“I…I decided to take the job, maybe its what I need. I’m…I’m sorry I was kind of short with you earlier.
“No, no, Viggo don’t worry about. You have made me a very, very happy director.”
Viggo smiled at the joy in the man’s voice.
“So, when do you need me there?” he asked.
“Is tomorrow to soon!” Peter replied with a chuckle.
“Tomorrow?” he asked surprised.
“Yeah, I’m really sorry, but like I said, we have a long shoot ahead of us and I don’t want to get behind.”
“Oh, okay well, can I ask a question then?”
“Sure go ahead,” he answered happily.
“How long is this shoot, you said it was kind of long, 4-6 months?”
“Oh no Viggo. This is movie is going to be a trilogy, and were shooting the whole three movies in one shot, so I’m planning on it taking 16 months or so.”
Viggo mouth dropped at that, he hadn’t prepared himself for being gone for so long.
“Oh,” is all he could say.
“Viggo? Is that going to be okay? I should of said something earlier I am so sorry.” He rambled.
“No, that’s okay Peter, I’ll get my things here at home situated and get there as soon as I can.”
“Oh great, great, I am so glad to have you aboard Viggo, my wife says you have a nice ass.”
Viggo nearly choked when he heard that. “Well…I guess that’s good to know,” he laughed.
Let me know when your flight arrives and I will meet you at the airport okay?”
“Sure Peter will do, and thanks,”
“No, thank you Viggo, you have just saved my neck! Cheers!” and he disconnected the line.
Viggo hung up the phone and sat back in the chair slightly dazed. Sixteen months! Oh shit! What have I got myself in for he thought? He picked up the phone again and rang up his agent and told him he had accepted the job. After the initial stunned silence on the other end…they made the necessary arrangements and Viggo hung up the phone and called his neighbors and Christine’s family, he then headed up to his room to pack his things, taking the picture of Christine with him along with the letter, which he taped back to the picture. It was going to be a long flight to New Zealand so he had better get plenty of rest.
Tbc…..
Moving On Chapter 8/?
Beta: None just my own lousy writing forgive me.
Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. Non profit. Yada Yada!!
A/N: one more chapter of separate stories and then we will have our men meet!
Please please leave feedback it helps the muses think better!!
Based on the movie Return To Me.
Viggo had all but put his life on hold after his wife had died. After her funeral, he had talked to his agent and told him he was going to take some time to figure some things out. He needed time to reevaluate his life. The movie he had just done would have to go on without him, he couldn’t even fathom going to any of the premiers now, not now, not that she had died… they had died. He knew the fans would understand, but his agent, he hadn’t been very happy. He didn’t care though; he didn’t care about anything at this point.
He packed all his stuff up and went up into his cabin in Idaho, and just hibernated there. He occasionally made his way into the nearby small town, but that was about as much as he could do, or about as much as he wanted to face people. The townspeople were very nice to him when he came in. They knew what had happened and knew that Viggo wanted his privacy, and they respected that. So they had left him alone basically, they gave the occasional nod when they met him on the streets, but other than that they let him be. That’s what Viggo loved about this place. People minded their own damn business.
He spent most of his time taking care of his horses. The neighbors usually took care of them when he was absent. It was a great arrangement for him, and they had the joy of riding the horses in return whenever they wanted to. With his spare time he painted and he wrote poetry. He didn’t have much inspiration for either one, but when he finally did sit down and write, the poems were about death and loneliness and his painting had taken on the form of dark and bleak colors.
His agent had called several times about a job here or there and Viggo had so not politely declined. Said he wasn’t interested. He wanted to be left alone. Period!
He had just come into the cabin from tending his horses and the phone stared to ring.
He growled when he heard it, he figured it was his agent again. Damn man wouldn’t leave him alone! He walked over to the phone and looked at the caller ID that he had gotten to avoid those calls, and would still be able to answer the calls from Christine’s family, whom he still loved dearly.
They had seemed to be doing better then he had, going on with their lives more then he was. He almost laughed at that. Life, what kind of life was he living?
The number on the phone was unfamiliar and had lot of numbers. Long distance he noticed, and international. He thought a minute, debating whether to pick it up or not, and then picked up. “Hello.”
“Is this Viggo Mortensen?’ the caller asked in an accented voice.
“Yeah, who’s this?” he asked, he was rather abrupt but he didn’t care,
“Ah, I’m Peter Jackson, I’m a director here in New Zealand.” He said politely. “Um, your agent gave me your number and suggested that I could call you.”
“Oh really?” he asked with sarcasm. “Well wasn’t that nice of him.”
Peter noted the anger in the mans voice. Viggos agent had told Peter about his wife’s death and how Viggo wasn’t interested in doing any work, and had said so when Peter called him. But Peter had explained to him how they had to recast the role in his current picture and how he was desperate for Viggo. His wife and the other writer Phillipa had seen him in the movie G.I. Jane and thought he would be perfect for the part and they wanted him very badly now. The agent laughed and gave Peter the number and told him good luck and to expect to be hung up on. Peter agreed and took the number and said he would bear in mind the accident and be honest with him and to do his best.
“Yeah, Um Viggo. I am in the process of making this movie called the Lord of the Rings… and the actor who we had picked out didn’t have the right angle for the part, and my wife suggested you after she had watched a movie you had done, and thought you would be perfect for the part.” Peter paused for a minute and waited for the actor to flat out refuse or cuss him out or something, but it was quiet on the other end of the line so he continued.
Your agent had told me about your wife Viggo, and I just want to say I am very sorry to hear about what happened and can’t imagine what you must be going through.”
Viggo face took a stern look and he about to tell Peter what he could do with his job offer, but Peter continued rambling and didn’t give him any room for interruption.
“This is a beautiful country Viggo, lots of wonderful people, away from the hustle of Hollywood, we have a wonderful staff here, and I would be really, really, be grateful if you would at least think about taking the part. Its one of the lead characters and an important part of the filming process that needs to be done right away.” He took a breath.
Viggo sat back in the chair and pinched the bridge of his nose. Maybe he needed to get away. Really away. He had always wanted to go to New Zealand. “Can I call you back um, Peter is it?”
“Yes, yes of course Viggo. But I need to know right away, we are just getting ready to start principal photography and we need you here as soon as possible. We’re kind of in a crunch so to speak.”
“Okay,” he sighed after a moment can I call you tomorrow?”
“Yes, that will be fine Viggo, I really appreciate you taking the time for me and I hope we will be working together and fulfill this dream of mine to make these movies.”
Viggo nodded, the guy sounded nice, sincere, even when he had brought up the subject of his wife.
“I’ll give you a call tomorrow then,” he said and hung up the phone. He sat in the chair for a while staring out at the trees on his ranch. He ran his hand through his uncombed hair. He didn’t know what to do. Was he really ready to go at it again? Would it get his mind off the pain of the loss? He got up and walked over to the fridge and grabbed a beer and sat down in his favorite chair by the fireplace. This was his and Christine’s favorite part of the house, right next to the fireplace with two chairs close together and a beautiful rug that was so soft to sit on. They had spent countless ours in front of the roaring fire talking late into the night. He leaned over and gently took hold of the picture of his wife that he had placed there over a year ago. This was the last picture that had been taken of her, before her death. He stared at it for some time, his fingers lightly going over her face before he turned it around and took the envelope that was taped on the back of the picture off. He opened the envelope and pulled out the single sheet of stationary that came out. It was from the recipient of Christine’s heart. He had received it months ago and hadn’t had the courage to open it and read it contents. But he did now.
//Dear family,
I am writing this letter to let you know I am the one who has been lucky enough to receive your loved ones heart.
Viggo paused as he felt the lump well up in his throat. But he took a deep breath before he continued.
I want you to know that I am eternally grateful for the gift of life that has been returned to me. I was on deaths door the day the doctor came and told me they had found a match for me.
I decided at that time with the help of my family, to make you and your loved one proud of the way I will live my life, and to live it the best that I can. I strive each day to pray and thank god that they had thought about the gift of organ donation.
I know it must be difficult for you each day to live in the knowledge of your loved ones passing.
Viggo paused and lay the letter down on his lap and lay his head back on the chair his lips quivering, and his heart aching, his eyes stinging from the oncoming burst of tears. He took another deep breath and tried to clear his eyes so he could continue.
Maybe one day we will meet. Then I can thank you in person for the greatest gift that I have ever received and to which no other gift could ever come close to.
I am trying to go on with my life now, as I had thought I would not have one to live. I will live each day with the memory of the one who has given me life again.
Thank you so much.//
Viggo cried as he finished the letter, his tears falling gently on the single piece of paper he held in his hands. The person who received her heart seemed to be a wonderful person. He was very grateful that he had read the letter now, even though it had hurt him to do so. It had brought back painful memories, but also it had brought the fact that his wife’s death wasn’t in vain, and that a wonderful, caring person lived on, and had a part of her with them.
This person said, as he read the letter again. That they were trying to go on with their life now. He knew he should do the same. It had been over a year since her death. It was at that point that he decided that he would take the job in New Zealand. He needed to take the job. He needed to get back to living his life. The life that Christine would of wanted him to live. He wiped his face with the back of his hand and set the picture and letter down carefully on the table.
He got up and went over to the phone and dialed the number.
“Hello?’ the accented voice said.
“Uh, Peter,”
“Yes, yes is this Viggo? I didn’t expect to hear from you so soon,” he said nervously, is this a good sign or bad he thought to himself?
“I…I decided to take the job, maybe its what I need. I’m…I’m sorry I was kind of short with you earlier.
“No, no, Viggo don’t worry about. You have made me a very, very happy director.”
Viggo smiled at the joy in the man’s voice.
“So, when do you need me there?” he asked.
“Is tomorrow to soon!” Peter replied with a chuckle.
“Tomorrow?” he asked surprised.
“Yeah, I’m really sorry, but like I said, we have a long shoot ahead of us and I don’t want to get behind.”
“Oh, okay well, can I ask a question then?”
“Sure go ahead,” he answered happily.
“How long is this shoot, you said it was kind of long, 4-6 months?”
“Oh no Viggo. This is movie is going to be a trilogy, and were shooting the whole three movies in one shot, so I’m planning on it taking 16 months or so.”
Viggo mouth dropped at that, he hadn’t prepared himself for being gone for so long.
“Oh,” is all he could say.
“Viggo? Is that going to be okay? I should of said something earlier I am so sorry.” He rambled.
“No, that’s okay Peter, I’ll get my things here at home situated and get there as soon as I can.”
“Oh great, great, I am so glad to have you aboard Viggo, my wife says you have a nice ass.”
Viggo nearly choked when he heard that. “Well…I guess that’s good to know,” he laughed.
Let me know when your flight arrives and I will meet you at the airport okay?”
“Sure Peter will do, and thanks,”
“No, thank you Viggo, you have just saved my neck! Cheers!” and he disconnected the line.
Viggo hung up the phone and sat back in the chair slightly dazed. Sixteen months! Oh shit! What have I got myself in for he thought? He picked up the phone again and rang up his agent and told him he had accepted the job. After the initial stunned silence on the other end…they made the necessary arrangements and Viggo hung up the phone and called his neighbors and Christine’s family, he then headed up to his room to pack his things, taking the picture of Christine with him along with the letter, which he taped back to the picture. It was going to be a long flight to New Zealand so he had better get plenty of rest.
Tbc…..
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Date: 2006-06-16 07:32 am (UTC)Orlando's letter was lovely and very moving, and it has at least made Viggo now realise his wife's actions were important.
Lovely update!
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Date: 2006-06-16 07:39 am (UTC)