vigorli

All my love to everyone to enjoyed that last fic and told me so in such wonderful ways. *blush* "Lifeline" was an idea that came to me when my friend who has a farm was complaining about how her hands were all calloused and dirty and very unlady-like. Later, when we were watching "The Followship" she made a comment about Aragorn's dirty hands as he told Frodo he would have gone into the very fires of Moria, closing his hands over the hobbit's. So the story was for her. This next offering is from Billy's POV, and if I know little about Viggo or Orlando, I know even less about Billy Boyd, so be gentle. I don't like this one as much as the first, but it is a continuation of sorts. And excuse the fumbling use of a British insult. *grin*

Title: Lifeline - Watching
Author:

ranmaru
Rating: PG
Summary: Billy sees a moment between Orlando and Viggo.
Disclaimer: Don't know, don't own, just playing.

Billy Boyd liked to have a good time. He liked being the center of attention and he loved to make people laugh. He considered it a gift and a gift is nothing if it’s not shared with others. But there were also times when Billy liked the quiet, liked studying the environment and the people around him. Being on a movie set was the perfect place to indulge in both of his favorite things and, having just left the trailer he shared with the other Hobbits, he thought it was high time he spent some quality People Watching Time with himself.

He ambled over to the refreshment tent and chatted a bit with the cute girl who made the best coffee he’d ever tasted. He knew he knew her name but every time he saw her, poof, it was gone. He’d begun to think of her as ‘There’ as in “Hi There!” What’cha doing There?” “Need some help There?” It was utterly ridiculous and he felt like an idiot but she didn’t seem to notice that he never used her name, so he felt safe.

It seemed strange to be drinking coffee on such a hot day but Billy knew without it, he’d be asleep faster than Elijah on a break. He grinned to himself as he blew on his drink. He’d never known anyone who could just sleep anywhere, anytime. Elijah sat down, you blinked and he was asleep. If Billy had been a scientist he’d have made a lifetime study out of the kid.

The Scot stopped and looked around the busy set, trying to find a place that was out of the way but still had a good view of the layout. A pickup truck with the tailgate down was sitting alone at the end of the lot and Billy began to make his way over. He stopped to let a couple Orcs pass, rolling his eyes at their friendly ribbing. As he watched them trudge to the set his eye was caught by a curious thing.

Viggo and Orlando were sitting at a picnic table. That in itself wasn’t strange, the two were usually seen together, the elf hounding the ranger’s steps like a faithful puppy. It would have been funny if not for the earnestness in Orli’s eyes and voice as he talked to Viggo about the movie and his part in it. Billy admired the younger man for his eagerness to learn anything and everything from the veteran actor. He had to hand it to Orli, not everyone was willing to risk Aragorn’s wrath, for make no mistake, when the costume was on, Viggo was Aragorn, with all of his brooding airs and intensity.

Today was different for two reasons. For one, they weren’t talking, just looking at each other like they were having a staring contest or a battle of wills. And two, it seemed as though they were holding hands. Billy squinted, no, not seemed like, they were. Viggo’s hand was covering Orlando’s and they were gazing into each other’s eyes like lovestruck teens.

It was an interesting contrast, those hands folded one upon the other. Billy was reminded of a black and white photo he’d seen once on a card. He couldn’t remember what the card had been for. Or maybe it was like those Oreo cookies that Elijah’s mom never failed to send down in a care package. Well, half of an Oreo. And now he was hungry.

Orlando had very young hands, the Scot determined. When he wasn’t Legolas, those hands were energized, fluttering and twitching, like they were frustrated when not in use. The skin looked smooth and flawless though Billy knew the younger man had to have formed calluses from all of the archery and sword practice he had. And no one could have escaped the occasional nick and cut from the sword practice.

On the other side of the spectrum were Viggo’s hands. Not old so much as worn, cracked knuckles and dirt under the fingernails. His natural abilities with a sword made Billy think the artist had warrior’s hands, which was strange considering he was painter and a poet and had such a gentle heart. It was as though his hands didn’t match his soul. The Scot knew Viggo was an accomplished horseman and that’s why his hands looked so weathered but Billy couldn’t banish the image of a sword, not a bridle or paintbrush, as the natural companion to such experienced hands.

Seeing those two mismatched hands together didn’t make sense, as if they should act like two positive magnets and repel each other. Maybe that’s what made the scene so interesting and what made it so impossible to pass up.

“Is this a moment or can anyone interrupt?”

Billy watching in amusement as his friends jumped like they’d been given an electric shock, Orli going as far as to fall over backwards which almost had Billy on the ground but one look at Viggo’s face and laughter was the farthest from the Scot’s mind. He quickly transferred his gaze to Orli and was horrified to see him crouched there, looking like some kind of cornered animal, shaking and terrified.

No one moved for a moment, the air became heavy and tense, broken only when Orlando stood and walked away, his steps unsteady. Billy felt like the worst kind of bastard as he glanced down at Viggo. The poor man looked like his heart had been broken, and Billy wondered if it really had. He’d obviously stumbled in on something new and fragile and there was a good chance he’d ruined it.

“I’m sorry,” Billy said, knowing his words were inadequate. “I didn’t realize…”

Viggo shook his head as he gazed down at his hands. “Neither did I.”

Billy was glad the older man didn’t look up at him. He didn’t want to see that sad look in his eyes again, it was almost like a physical pain in his chest. The Scot swallowed and looked longingly towards the pickup. He tried to say he had to go but nothing came out. He left anyway.

He passed the truck once he’d reached it, knowing it was too close to the disastrous scene and not wanting to be reminded of his own idiocy. He absently sipped his coffee, thinking that it didn’t taste as good as it had before he’d come upon Viggo and Orlando.

“It isn’t what you think.”

Billy tripped, spilling his coffee to the ground, and landing in a heap at Orli’s feet. At least, he thought as he stood up, brushing off his knees, that he hadn’t fallen in the puddle of coffee. He opted for looking at his empty up, slightly crushed in his hand, than at the Brit. “I wasn’t thinking anything.”

“He just…I mean we…”

Orli’s hands came into view, clenched and still trembling, as his arms hung at his sides. Billy sighed. “You don’t have to explain anything to me, lad.”

“Billy.”

Now he had to look up. Orli wasn’t wearing his contacts and but it still seemed as though his iris were dominating his eyes. It was a little freaky. Billy focused on Orli’s nose and hoped he didn’t look cross-eyed. “Whatever is going on is your business.”

“Nothing is going on.”

The frustration in Orlando’s voice caught Billy’s attention. “But you want there to be.”

“Yes. No! I mean, fuck, I don’t know.” For the first time in his life Billy witnessed someone scuffing their toe in the dirt. How very much like Orli.

“I’m not the one you should be talking to, you know that.”

“Yeah.”

“We’re not having a sleepover to talk about your feelings.”

The beginnings of a smile curved Orli’s lips. “I know, you git.”

“So go back and talk with Vig. Or just go over there and give him a good snogging.”

“I’ve never heard you say snogging before,” Orli commented, looking back towards the picnic table. It was out of sight but Billy had a feeling Viggo was still there.

“I’m attempting to sound like English.” Billy shuddered. “Quit stalling.”

Billy watched Orlando walk away, again, but this time felt a little better about things. Maybe he should go back and get a new cup of coffee. He quite enjoyed his little chats with Nancy.

END