TITLE: The Only Kind of Love (3/22)
AUTHOR: Elizabeth (sef7881@aol.com)
PAIRING: Viggo Mortensen/Orlando Bloom
RATING: PG-13
SUMMARY: How to announce an engagement (Alt. POV)
FEEDBACK: Makes my day brighter.
WARNINGS: None
DISCLAIMER: Every single word is false. It's fiction!
ARCHIVE: My site. All others please ask, but I'll surely say yes.
AUTHOR'S NOTES: ***** denotes a POV change.
DATE WRITTEN: February 8th, 2005
"I'm back!" a familiar voice calls right before a door slams. "If
you're making out, this is your warning to stop!"
"Thank you, Henry, but we're quite decent," I holler, glad that I'm
able to refrain from laughing.
"Good."
"Did you have fun at Nathan's house?" Viggo asks as his son comes into
the kitchen.
"Yeah, it was great! His mom let us rent four DVDs!"
"So let me guess – you're running on three hours of sleep."
"Four hours."
"Close enough."
"Okay, okay . . . you're both smiling so does that mean what I think it
does?" Henry looks at his father with an unbearably hopeful
expression. "Did Orli ask you? Did you say yes?"
"What do you think?" Viggo laughs.
"I don't know!"
"Of course I said yes, you little conspirator!"
Viggo reaches over and tousles Henry's hair; for the first time, that
doesn't seem to annoy Henry, since he's too busy literally jumping for
joy and emitting what sounds like a war whoop. "You're getting
married!" the younger Mortensen shrieks at a frighteningly high decibel
level.
"Yeah, we are," I affirm. My arm slips around Viggo's shoulders,
pulling him close to me, and Henry doesn't tease us about any
"mushiness", which could be another first for him.
"Orli said that you gave him your blessing," Viggo says, his voice
suspiciously rough with emotion. "That just means . . . it means
everything to me."
Henry looks away, a bit embarrassed. "I want you to be happy, and
he makes you *incredibly* happy. It was a no-brainer."
Viggo and I know that's teenaged-boy-speak for "I love and support both
of you."
"Well, thank you. And you're the first to know about this–"
"I am? Really? Oh, cool!" Okay, so call me
sentimental, but I think it's wonderful that Henry is so excited about
all of this. "Can I tell anyone?"
"You can tell your mum," I reason. "And your girlfriend.
But beyond that . . . we still have to figure a lot of things out, so
we'd like to keep it pretty quiet."
"I totally understand that," Henry says. "I mean, after all the
shit the paparazzi has put you though, you're probably best off keeping
this whole thing a secret until after you're actually married.
You know, just elope or something like that."
I look at Viggo with raised eyebrows. "We could do that."
"It's possible," he echoes.
"Whatever," Henry shrugs. "You guys will work it out. Now
if you'll excuse me, I have four chapters of 'The Grapes of Wrath' that
I have to read before tomorrow."
"Then go be productive," I tease.
"I will."
"And Henry?"
He spins around on his way out of the kitchen. "Huh?"
"We love you."
"Yeah, yeah, yeah," he mutters, trying to hide the blush and grin on
his face as he walks out.
Viggo chuckles and slides an arm around me. "Well, I think that's
about the best reaction one could hope for from a seventeen-year-old
boy."
"Probably."
He kisses my temple. "So, that was pretty easy."
I nod. "One down, everybody else to go."
*****
"Hello?"
"Hey, Mom."
"Viggo!" I smile at the warmth in my mother's voice. God, I
wish I could see her more often. "How are you, sweetheart?"
"I'm doing great, how are you?"
"I'm *exhausted*. I spent all morning chasing Vanilla around the
house until I could get her to take her medicine. That cat
doesn't realize that I'm trying to help her."
"She also likes to be left alone," I point out.
"True," my mom sighs. "So, how's my grandson?"
"Still making me proud every day. His grades are fantastic; I
don't know where that comes from."
"Oh, stop. You and Exene are two of the smartest people I've
met. It's just that neither of you gave much of a damn in high
school."
"Well, Henry's talking about going to college with his
girlfriend. We'll see what happens."
"Ah, teenaged love," Mom sighs over-dramatically. "And speaking
of love, how's your better half?"
"Orli? He's great! Actually, he's kind of the reason I'm
calling."
"Really? And why is that?"
"Because last night . . . ." I take a deep breath. "He
proposed to me. We're getting married." There's silence at
the other end of the line, and I can feel my heart in my throat.
No matter how old I get, I still want my mom (and dad, for that matter)
to be happy with the choices that I make in life. "M-mom?" I ask
tentatively.
"You're getting married?" Her voice is laced with the same
emotion that I heard when I told her she was going to be a grandmother
for the first time. "To Orlando?"
"Who else would I marry?" I tease.
"Oh Viggo, I'm so happy for you! For both of you!"
"You are? Really?"
"Yes. And I'm proud of you."
"Mom, I love you."
"I love you so much. And I adore Orli; you know that. He is
perfect for you, and he makes you so happy . . . I couldn't ask for
anything better for you."
"I'm pretty lucky," I agree.
"It's not luck, sweetheart," Mom says. "You two earned your
happiness."
Maybe she's right. She usually is.
*****
"Orlando? Are you alright, dear?"
"Yes, I'm fine."
"You left a frantic message on the ansaphone telling me to call you,
that it was extremely important. What's going on?"
Shit. I didn't mean to worry my mum, only to make sure that she'd
call me today. "Well, ah, I have some good news."
"You and Viggo were approved for adoption!"
"Um, no. We haven't heard about that yet."
"Oh. I'm sorry."
"Listen mum, do you remember how I told you right after Viggo and I
started dating that I *knew* we were going to spend the rest of our
lives together."
"Darling, I can't forget that. It was enough of a jolt to learn
that you were in love with a man, let alone one whom you wanted to
dedicate your entire life to."
"Right, well, we've sort of always known that we're going to be
together forever, you know?"
"Yes, of course. And anyone with half a brain can see that you're
not making an empty promise there," she says. "What of it?"
"Well . . . I wanted to make our plans official instead of just some
vague promise. Last night I asked Viggo to marry me–"
"Oh!" she gasps.
"Mum?" I ask, suddenly nervous.
"No, keep going!"
"He said yes, so we're getting married."
"Orlando, I am so happy!" There's a suspicious sniffling sound.
"Mum, are you crying?"
"Yes! Of course I am! My baby is getting married!"
I blush furiously. "Mum, I'm not a baby."
"You're *my* baby, dear. You always will be. Even if you're
all grown up and planning to get married, I still see you as the shy,
pudgy seven-year-old who was afraid of the dark."
"Thanks, Mum," I sigh.
*****
"DAD!" Henry shouts. "Exene's on the phone and she wants to talk
to you!"
"Thanks!" I pick up the cordless and flop down on the
couch. "Hey."
"Hey yourself. So, you're getting hitched to the Boy
Wonder?" I know she's grinning from her tone of voice.
"News travels fast."
"Yeah . . . well, Henry is pretty happy about it."
"Really?" It's nice to hear that from someone else.
"C'mon, Viggo. You know he's crazy about Orlando."
"And do *you* approve?"
She snorts. "Since when did you ever need my approval?"
"Since you became one of my closest friends," I tell her sincerely.
"Okay, you got me there. So for the record, I heartily endorse
your future marriage to Orlando."
"Thank you, Ex."
"Just do us all a favor and don't wear a wedding dress on the big day –
you'd make a fucking ugly woman."
*****
"You're getting married!" my sister squeals.
"Mum called you already? That's a new record."
"Tell me all about everything! Who proposed? Did you
cry? Did he cry? Did you shag afterwards?"
"Whoa, slow down, Sam."
"Give me the details, Orli!"
I laugh. "Fine. I proposed. I'm sure that I cried,
but it's all kind of a blur. I don't think Viggo cried. And
yes, we shagged. But we never need a reason to do *that*."
"You proposed? That's so sweet! Do you think he was
surprised?"
"Yeah, he really was. I was just terrified that he'd say no."
Sam scoffs at that notion. "Are you serious? Like that man
would ever say no to anything you asked of him. God, you are so
lucky. If I didn't love you so much, I'd hate you."
"Thanks, I think."
"Who else knows?"
"Just the families so far, his and mine."
"And when are you getting married? You should have a spring
wedding; that would be so pretty. You could even use Mum's house!"
"To be honest, Sam, we haven't talked about any of that. We don't
want anything big or fancy, just a simple, straightforward ceremony
with the people we love. We might even elope."
"You can't do that!"
"Why not?"
"Because I need the excuse to get a fancy dress!"
"Nice to know you're keeping your priorities straight," I laugh.
*****
"Ian, if I tell you something, you have to swear to keep it a secret."
"Is everything alright, Viggo?"
"Everything's wonderful, it's just that Orlando and I have some news
that we'd like to tell everybody *ourselves* instead of having our
gossipy friends do the job for us."
"I'm wounded," Ian chuckles. "But I'll keep your secret
safe. Now what is this big news?"
"We're getting married." Yup, there's still a rush every time I
say those words.
"Married? That's wonderful!"
"Thank you."
"When did you decide this?"
"Just last night . . . Orli proposed."
"Did he now?" Ian's voice is filled with the tenderness of a
wonderful friend. "Well, one could never doubt his dedication to
you, or yours to him. After all I've watched you go through
together, both good times and bad, I think this is the best way to
commit yourselves to each other."
"I'm glad you think so. You're the first person outside of our
families whom we've told."
"Really?"
"Come on, Ian. You know what you mean to us. Especially to
Orlando; he really sees you as a father as much as a friend."
"Viggo, I treasure the friendship I have with both of you. You
know that whatever you need from me, just say the word and I'll do
it. So if you need any help with a wedding . . . I'm here.
Not that I've ever been married before, but you understand."
"Yes," I nod. "I understand."
"I should talk to Orlando, too. I'd like to congratulate both of
you."
"Definitely. Hold on a minute."
I gesture for Orlando to take the phone from me, which he does.
As he starts talking to Ian in his mile-a-minute babble that I adore so
much, I kiss the top of his head and decide to start making lunch for
us. Turkey sandwiches sound good, maybe with lettuce and
mustard. And ginger ale for Orlando.
By the time I've finished preparing lunch, the phone conversation with
Ian is over. Orli stretches and comes over to the table, his eyes
lighting up as he sees that I've put extra mustard on his
sandwich. "You really are the best, Vig. I mean it every
time I say it."
"The secret to keeping you happy is Dijon mustard?"
"Something like that," he mumbles around a mouthful of food. "You
know, it's interesting – nobody seemed really shocked that we're
getting married. I mean, they just thought it was, I don't know .
. ."
"Natural?" I suggest.
"Yeah." He grins. "Like they were expecting it, or
something."
"My guess is that they all know exactly what I do."
"What's that?"
"We belong together. Simple as that."
"Like turkey and mustard?"
I chuckle. "Like hobbits and pipeweed."
"Like Legolas and Aragorn."
"They don't end up together," I remind him.
"They do in my version," he says very seriously.
"And what about our story? Where are we going to end up?" I ask
him.
"Oh, I'm thinking that we'll live happily ever after." And he
gives me a big kiss.
The
Only
Kind of Love Part 4
More
Viggorli
Back
to Random Insanity
