"Oh my God, Orli, you should have seen it!" Lij exclaims. "Viggo was taking out those Nazgul like crazy yesterday! He was like, 'feel the pain, motherfuckers!'"
"He's amazing with the sword," Sean agrees with a nod. "It's incredible to think that he's never used one before."
"The guy just *is* Aragorn," Dom tells me. "He's got the role down perfectly after only two days."
"Wow, that's pretty impressive," I say with a weak smile.
"What's wrong, Orli?" Billy asks with a frown.
"Nothing," I lie. "I'm just a bit tired from yesterday's archery practice." The hobbits nod sympathetically and go back to chattering about Viggo and the Weathertop sequences, while I lean back against the wall of the makeup trailer and try not to think about what happened two days ago.
I had been nervous about meeting Stuart's replacement, mainly because so many of my scenes are with Aragorn that I desperately wanted whoever filled that role to be a nice guy and an actor from whom I could learn. When Pete told us that Viggo Mortensen would be flying out to join the cast, I honestly couldn't think of a single movie of his that I had seen. In fact, my first thought was 'who names their kid Viggo?'
Yesterday, Viggo arrived in New Zealand and I immediately gave him a welcome-to-the-set hug. And something strange happened to me. There was some kind of little, I don't know, *spark* or something. I thought my head was tripping me up until I stepped back and really looked at the guy, and there it was again -- this undefinable feeling that there was something amazing about him. There was something in his eyes that just touched me.
It's mad, isn't it? I mean, I had known this guy for all of two seconds and I already thought he was special. Not knowing what else to do, I attempted to talk with him but it all came out as random babble. For fuck's sake, I even invited him to go bungee-jumping. When we reached the makeup trailer, I put my hand on his shoulder just to check if that bloody spark was still there. And it was.
My train of thought is broken at the sound of Billy's voice. "Good morning, Viggo." I look up sharply to see Viggo walking towards us.
"Good morning, everyone," he says with a smile. Oh wow, what a smile. And he looks really nice in khakis and a tee-shirt. Shit, why am I even thinking about what he looks like? It's not as if I'm *attracted* to him -- I'm completely straight! Aren't I?
*****
Okay, time for a quick tally. Number of days Viggo has been here: 6. Number of times I've had the nerve to speak to him: 3. Number of times I've thought about him: 973. The fact is that this man is destroying my heterosexuality. I'm extremely, extremely attracted to him, and the more I think about it, the more I realize that I might just be bisexual. This is very strange.
Yesterday was our day off, and I skipped bungee-jumping to rent several of his movies. He looked extremely handsome in 'The Portrait of a Lady', he was the most seductive man in the world in 'A Perfect Murder', and then I got a huge shock when I saw his arse five minutes into 'Psycho'. He has a very nice arse, as well as a nice chest, and after finishing the last video I went straight to bed and wanked.
Right now, the man with the nice arse and the nice chest is sitting by himself between takes, drumming his fingers on the hilt of his sword. Seeing as I have nothing else to do while Pete reviews the scene with John, I walk over to where he's sitting. Number of times I've had the nerve to speak to him: 4.
"Do you mind if I join you?"
Viggo looks up and smiles. "Not at all, my elven brother."
I give him an answering smile and sit down beside him, stretching my legs out in front of me and sighing. "I hope we get the scene right this time. I'm positively knackered."
"Knackered?" he asks, his brow creasing in confusion. My God, he looks adorable when he's confused.
"Knackered is just Brit-speak for 'tired'," I explain.
"Oh, well then I'm knackered, too," he says, and we both laugh. "I was up until about two last night -- I have a tendency to lose track of time."
"Were you out hitting the clubs?"
Viggo chuckles. "No, that's not exactly my scene anymore. I spent last night looking over my script and the book in an attempt to get into my character's head. I'm just beginning to feel like I have a grasp on who Aragorn is."
"You're doing a great job, man. I mean, to come in and take over a role like that . . . it's pretty amazing." Fuck, could I sound any dumber?
"Thanks." He blushes a bit from the compliment. "You know, Ian told me that this is your first movie. Is that true?"
"Well, I had one line in a movie a few years ago. But yeah, essentially this is my first movie. I got this role just as I graduated from Guildhall."
"I never would have guessed that. You're an absolutely perfect elf."
"Thank you," I say, feeling a bit unworthy of the praise. "I'm just trying to learn all I can from the other actors."
"You don't need to do that, Orli," he tells me with a smile. "You've got as much talent as any of us."
"Thanks."
There's a comfortable silence for a minute and then Viggo looks at me with a grin. "So did you go bungee-jumping this weekend?"
"No, I ended up staying home." I leave out the part about watching his movies all day long.
"I can't understand why anyone would ever bungee-jump," he remarks.
"It's all about living life to the fullest," I explain. "Experiencing all that you can. You really should come with us the next time we go."
"Thanks, but I'm quite content to live life to the fullest without throwing myself off of a bridge," Viggo laughs.
"Then what's your concept of living life to the fullest?" I ask curiously.
"Just being who you are and expressing what you feel. I guess that's part of the reason I became an actor, because it was a form of expression."
"So to you, acting is part of living life to the fullest."
"Yeah, it's sort of emotional bungee-jumping," he laughs. "Especially when I really get into a role. I can already tell that I'm going to get lost in Aragorn -- something about him really resonates inside of me."
"Is that why you took the part on such short notice?" I ask, playing with the blonde strands of my wig.
"Not exactly," Viggo chuckles. "I didn't know the first thing about the story when Pete called me, and the pressure of taking the role was immense, but my son talked me into it."
His son. He has a son. He's straight. This is perfect. My sexuality has been turned upside down in a matter of days over a man who is as heterosexual as I used to be. Once again, I have mastered the art of the fruitless crush. Okay, maybe 'fruitless' isn't the best word to use when talking about a same-sex attraction.
"You have a son," I say as nonchalantly as possible. "I didn't know that."
"Yeah, he's eleven. He's a huge 'Lord of the Rings' fan and told me that I would be making the biggest mistake of my life if I turned down the part of Aragorn. Plus, he called Aragorn 'cool', and if I can do anything that makes him think I'm cool, it's worth it."
"So what's his name?"
"Henry." Viggo smiles at the thought of his son, and I have to smile as well at the affectionate look on his face. "He's coming out here in a few months to see everything, and he's already counting the days."
"Is your wife coming, too?" Because I'd really like to meet the woman who's ruined my chances with Viggo.
He laughs loudly. "No, Henry's mother and I are divorced."
Yes! I mean . . . well, that sucks for Viggo, but at least he's single. Score one for Bloom. "I'm sorry," I say, using all of my acting skills.
"Don't worry about it. We're lucky enough to still be very good friends."
"So do you have, like, a girlfriend or something?"
"No, there's no one." He smiles at me. "What about you?"
"Me? Well, my girlfriend and I broke up a little while ago, so I'm completely single. I guess I'm just looking for the right person." Was that too obvious? It felt too obvious. Shit, I don't want to scare the pathologically straight man I'm falling head-over-heels for.
"Aren't we all?" he muses.
Whatever I was planning to say is forgotten as Pete walks over to us. "We're ready to go again, guys."
"Great," Viggo says as he stands up, extending his hand so he can pull me to my feet. Wow, he has really great hands. Okay, I'm *not* going to think about that.
"Thanks," I tell him shyly. Why does all of my confidence disappear when I'm around him?
"You're welcome. Ready to be Legolas again?"
"Are you kidding? I was born ready," I joke.
Viggo laughs and picks up his sword. "Then let's go." He walks back to where everyone else is standing and I follow him, feeling like an overeager puppy dog. Yeah, that's me. Orlando Bloom -- obsessed puppy dog.
*****
"Hello?"
"I need your help," I say miserably, sitting down on the couch with the cordless phone.
"What's wrong?" Atti's voice is concerned. "Are you okay?"
"No, I'm fine," I assure him. "It's just that . . . well, I'm falling for someone and I'm really confused."
"Why?"
"Because it's a man." There's a long pause and then I hear my best friend begin to laugh. "Don't take the piss, Atti! I don't know what to do here!"
"I'm sorry, OB," he chuckles. "I'm not laughing at you, I swear."
"Could've fooled me," I grumble.
"Look, why are you so surprised by this? We both know that you're way too pretty to be straight."
"Very funny, you prick. Now come on, help me."
"What do you need my help for? Just talk to the guy."
"That's the problem -- he's way out of my league," I explain. "Not to mention that he's straight."
"Okay, first of all, nobody is out of your league," he tells me. "Second of all, how do you know that he's straight?"
"Well, he has a son and an ex-wife."
"That doesn't mean anything," Atti says. "There isn't one man in this universe who wouldn't turn gay over you."
"Thanks, I think."
"Besides, who's to say that his marriage didn't break up because he woke up one morning and realized, 'hey, I love cock!'"
"That's doubtful."
"So who is this guy anyway? One of your co-stars?"
"Yeah."
"Which one? You've got about a hundred of them."
"It's the new Aragorn -- the one who replaced Stuart Townsend."
"What's his name?"
"Viggo Mortensen. He's been in a bunch of movies."
"Wait a second, was he in 'G.I. Jane'?"
"Yeah."
Atti starts laughing again. "Holy shit, you're hot for the psychotic Master Chief!"
"Fuck you."
"No thanks. So tell me, what's so great about this man that he's opened your eyes to the wonderful world of bisexuality?"
"Everything," I sigh. "He's just . . . well, he's incredible. And he's beautiful."
"Hmm, he didn't do it for me in that movie."
"Rent 'A Perfect Murder' or 'Psycho'. Then you'll see what I'm talking about."
"Okay, so he's good-looking. What else?"
"He's a *brilliant* actor. And he paints, and writes poetry, and he's a photographer. He's even published books and CDs, and he speaks Danish and Spanish--"
"So? You're a wonderful actor. You sculpt. You speak French and Pig Latin."
"But it's more than that," I explain. "It's his sense of humor, and his eyes, and his incredible way of looking at life. It's the way his face lights up when he talks about his son. Viggo is the nicest man I've ever met -- whenever I have the bollocks to talk to him, he never brushes me off. Every morning he greets me with a smile and asks how I'm doing, no matter how early our call is. The other day when I was a bit chilly between takes, he let me borrow his Aragorn cloak to warm me up."
"Sounds like he might fancy you," Atti remarks.
"No, he's just a friend," I sigh. "He probably thinks I'm some stupid kid."
"Oh, he does *not* think that. If he did, he wouldn't be so nice to you. Besides, anyone who sees you as a stupid kid doesn't deserve you. You're an amazing person, and he'd be a fool not to want you."
"Thanks, Atti."
"Hey, that's what I'm here for." He pauses. "So does this mean you're bi?"
"I guess."
"How weirded out are you?"
"It was bizarre at first," I admit. "I've never been attracted to a man before meeting Viggo. But if this is the way I feel, I'm not going to fight it."
"Do you need me to talk you through the essentials?"
"The essentials?" I ask with confusion.
"How to suck, how to fuck," he explains.
"Atti!"
"I'm just trying to help you, OB." I know he's wearing an evil grin. "I could tell you about the wonders of the prostate, or what kind of lubrication is best."
"I don't know why I put up with you."
"Because you love me," he says cheekily.
I smile. "Yeah, I do."
*****
"Cut!" Pete shouts. "That was perfect! Good job, everyone; we're done for the day."
I sigh in relief and start walking back to the trailer. Halfway there, I hear familiar footsteps walking behind me. Viggo. Yes, I'm able to discern what his footsteps sound like. Me? Obsessed? Never. "Are you tracking me, Ranger?" I call over my shoulder.
He laughs and quickens his strides to catch up with me. "Maybe."
"I'm so glad this day is over. All I want is to go to the pub and unwind."
"I know how you feel," he commiserates.
"Do you want to come to the pub? A few of us are going."
"No thanks. I have an urge to paint tonight."
"Really?" I manage to hide my disappointment.
"Yeah. The way the light was slanting over the trees today was incredible, and all day I've been thinking about painting splashes of green and yellow. I want to see if I can try and capture the beauty of the colors -- they seemed almost rhapsodic." He smiles. "God, that sounded pretentious, didn't it?"
"No, it sounded amazing," I tell him honestly. "I wish I could be inspired like that."
"What about sculpting? You mentioned that you love to do that."
"I haven't done it in a while."
"You should pick it up again."
"I really wasn't that good," I laugh.
"That's hard to believe," he says, looking at me in that gentle yet intense way that makes my insides turn to mush. "You have such a wonderful way of seeing things that I'd imagine you're a terrific artist. Your sense of wonder about life is still intact."
"Breathe, Orli. Just because the incredibly beautiful and wonderful man thinks you're talented is no reason for you to start hyperventilating. You might freak him out a bit. "Thank you," I say, not knowing how else to respond.
"You're welcome, elf boy." He grins again, and I feel like fainting. Elf boy. He has a nickname for me! He doesn't have a nickname for anyone else! Maybe I should give *him* a nickname.
"Filthy human," I tease. Shit, that's an *insulting* nickname. But Viggo just starts laughing and reaches out to tug on one of the braids on my wig.
"Prissy elf," he says almost fondly.
"Human scum," I growl playfully. He laughs louder and shakes his head, and right then it hits me.
I'm in love with Viggo Mortensen.
