TITLE: Pretty Good Year (19/22)
AUTHOR: Elizabeth (sef7881@aol.com)
PAIRING: Viggo Mortensen/Orlando Bloom
RATING: PG-13
SUMMARY: Something's premiering in the state of Denmark (Viggo's POV)
FEEDBACK: Please! I'm a total whore for it!
WARNINGS: None
DISCLAIMER: I made this all up in my crazy little head. It's
FICTION
ARCHIVE: I'd be honored, just let me know where it's going
AUTHOR'S NOTES: My undying gratitude goes out to Myr for being my Copenhagen
encyclopedia for this chapter
DATE WRITTEN: November 16th, 2003
"This is such a beautiful city," Orli sighs as he gazes out of our
Copenhagen hotel suite.
"All you've seen so far of the city is what's between the airport and
the hotel," I laugh.
"No, look out the window!" he protests. "I can see . . ."
"The tops of buildings?" I finish for him. "Yes, Copenhagen has
some very fine rooftops."
"Oh, stop it. I'm serious, this is a lovely place!" he insists.
"It's much quieter than London and there's no evil smog like in Los Angeles.
It just welcomes you somehow. Honestly, I'm thrilled that I got to
come along with you."
"Well, I wouldn't have it any other way." I take his hand and
pull him away from the window, then close the curtains (not like I actually
think that a paparazzi lensman can see into our room, but better safe than
sorry). "From the moment that Pete okayed this premiere, I knew that
no matter what I was going to get you here somehow."
"Yeah, and all we had to do was persuade half the cast to come along
so that it wouldn't look suspicious if just the two of us went by ourselves,"
Orli laughs, wrapping his arms around me.
"Thank God that Ian, Liv, and Lij were willing to come along.
Otherwise, you might have had to skip this premiere."
"That would have been awful. I know how much this country means
to you, and getting a chance to visit it together is something special."
I smile and kiss his mouth softly. "Yeah, it's special.
And you're right, this place does mean a lot to me."
"I know it does. After all, isn't this the city where you had
sex in a public park? For all you know, there may be a warrant out
for your arrest for public lewdness."
"I somehow doubt that Queen Margrethe would agree to meet me if I was
a wanted man," I snort.
"Oh, but you *are* a wanted man," he says with a wicked gleam in his
eyes. "I happen to want you very badly."
His mouth covers mine for a demanding kiss that practically sucks my
soul out in one fell swoop. Nice. What a lucky man I am!
And as we make our way towards the bed, his hands starting to pull impatiently
at my clothes, I have a sneaking suspicion that I'll get even luckier before
the night is over.
*****
"Cafe Sommersko?" Lij reads as he looks at the doors of the restaurant.
"Am I pronouncing that right?" he asks me. "My Danish totally sucks
ass."
"Hey, what a coincidence!" Orli exclaims. "So does *my* Danish
-- but I'm not talking about the language!" He looks at me and giggles
maniacally.
"Orli, that's gross!" Liv squeals.
"You have no shame," Ian rebukes, despite the grin on his face.
"Not to mention that his statement is completely incorrect," I add.
"What? It is?" Lij asks with confusion.
"Yes. A Danish is a pastry. A person from Denmark is a
Dane," I clarify. "And I'm not even from Denmark. I was born
in New York City and live in California, which makes me an American.
Besides which, if a Danish sucked anyone's ass, that would be amusing more
than anything else."
"Yeah, can you imagine a pastry going down on Orli?" Lij cackles.
My boyfriend blushes a very amusing shade of red at that comment.
"I can't believe we're even talking about this!" Liv says, her voice
getting even more high-pitched. "We're in the middle of the *street*
for God's sake!"
"It's noon on a Sunday; there's nobody around, sweetheart," Ian assures
her.
Indeed, the street we're on isn't exactly bustling despite the holiday
season, and the few people who pass us by either don't speak English or
don't really want to know why we're talking about desserts performing oral
sex. Still, I'm somewhat relieved that Pete was too busy to attend
lunch today, because I somehow doubt that this conversation would exactly
be his brand of humor. And it's also not exactly my father's idea
of what's funny, which means we should probably end the conversation, since
he'll be joining us any minute.
One of the reasons I desperately wanted Orli to come to this premiere
was because I had convinced my father to come to Copenhagen, and I wanted
the two to get a chance to meet each other. Despite the fact that
Orli and I have been together for four years, he and my father have never
met in person. They've spoken on the phone before, and I know that
Henry has given my father glowing reports of what Orli is like, but meeting
face-to-face is different and I wanted to give them that opportunity.
So I was able to rent out a very good restaurant for lunch, then booked
it for myself, Dad, and Orli. Just so it wouldn't look suspicious,
we asked our friends to come along and they graciously agreed. Now
all we're waiting for is my father to arrive; he's driving in from the
town of Ringsted, where he's lived since he split up with my mom back when
I was a teenager. And yes, many of my castmates find it greatly ironic
that my dad lives in a town that has the word 'rings' in its name.
"Where are you, Viggo Sr.?" Lij muses as he watches the passers-by.
"I want my lunch!"
"Elijah, it's five minutes earlier than when we're supposed to meet,"
Ian laughs. "Calm down."
"Hey, I'm freezing my butt off," Lij says defensively.
Liv rolls her eyes and pulls him into a hug. "Poor little hobbit.
All alone against the cold." She looks at me with a smile.
"What's your father like? Is he all brilliant and artistic like you?"
"Um, he was a salesman for years," I chuckles. "I got the art
genes from my mother. But he's incredibly smart and very funny; you
guys should like him."
"And did you get the crater in your chin from him?" Ian asks, his eyes
sparkling with mirth.
"It's a lovely cleft, not a crater!" Orli protests.
Before the conversation can continue its descent into madness, I mercifully
spot my father walking down the street towards us. "Dad!" I exclaim,
waving him over to where our little group is standing.
"Yup, that's where Viggo gets the cleft from," Liv says under her breath
as she looks at my father. Her comment goes unnoticed as Dad makes
his way over to us and we go into the warm sanctuary of the restaurant
so we can proceed with introductions.
Naturally, Dad's seen 'Fellowship' and 'Two Towers', so the moment
he meets Ian, Lij, and Liv, he proceeds to tell them how talented he thinks
they are. And when I make the introduction to Orli, my normally-reserved
father surprises me by hugging him -- usually he only gives hugs to his
grandchildren. Much to Orli's delight, he also says that Legolas
was one of his favorite characters.
"You were able to rent out the entire restaurant?" Dad asks me incredulously
as we're seated and handed our menus. "How on earth did you manage
that?" For the benefit of everyone around us, he's speaking in his
accented English.
"I know that you like this restaurant, and I wanted this to be private.
The studio was willing to pick up the tab of renting it out," I explain.
"I can't believe you have film studios at your beck and call," he says
with a shake of his head.
"They're not quite at my beck and call," I laugh. "This premiere
is good publicity for them and they wanted to do me a favor, since the
fact that I have ties to Denmark is what prompted this event in the first
place."
"So," Dad chuckles, "you've finally become a star."
Once we've placed our orders and the waitress is out of earshot, Orli
shoots my father one of his megawatt grins. "It's *so* fantastic
to finally meet you," he enthuses. "After all those telephone conversations,
I finally get to talk to you face-to-face!"
"You two have talked on the phone?" Ian asks with amusement.
"Last year, Dad randomly asked if he could talk to Orli while on the
phone with me," I say. "Since then, they've spoken on the phone about
fifteen times."
"Yes, now when I call the house it's to talk with Viggo, Henry, and
Orlando," Dad tells our friends. "But it's much better to be able
to sit and meet with Orlando in person -- and with all of you. I've
heard so many stories about your little group of friends! What did
you call the group, son?"
I can hear Lij stifling a snicker at my being called 'son', and Orli
gives him a swift kick in the shin. "The Fellowship, Dad. Just
like in the movie. Although Liv technically isn't in the Fellowship,
so Orli dubbed her our Princess."
"And what stories have you heard about us?" Ian interrupts. "I
hope you haven't heard anything about a goat, a candle, and shaving cream."
"A goat?" Dad looks at me bewilderedly.
"Ian, be quiet," Liv giggles.
"What happened with this goat?" Dad asks me.
"Nothing," I tell him, glaring at our perpetually mischievous wizard.
"Ian's making it all up."
"He never acts his age," Orli explains. "None us ever do."
Dad laughs. "Sounds like you and your brothers," he tells me.
"Imagine what would happen if those two hung out with your friends."
"Now there's a frightening thought," I remark. "Bringing my real
family into my Fellowship family. I think that would be too much
insanity even for me."
The waitress returns with our drinks, and before we can take a sip,
Lij clears his throat. "I propose a toast -- to the two Viggos."
"Here, here," Ian says, lifting his glass.
I blush along with Dad but dutifully participate in the toast.
"Thank you very much," my father tells everyone. "Now I understand
why my son adores you like he does."
*****
"I can't believe I met the fucking Queen of Denmark!" Does our
beloved hobbit have no tact?
"Elijah!" Pete scolds. "That's not appropriate! She's royalty,
for God's sake -- and a very nice woman!"
"Um . . . sorry." Lij looks very embarrassed as he suddenly focuses
on the carpet pattern of the hotel elevator. "I meant to say, I can't
believe I met the wonderful, lovely, very nice Queen of Denmark."
I laugh tiredly, unfazed by the latest manifestation of Lij's potty-mouth,
and wait for the elevator to make its way up to the floor where our hotel
room is. The premiere is over and we'll make our way to the next
stop on the 'Return of the King' tour tomorrow. To paraphrase Bilbo,
our road goes ever on. But this stop in the journey was something
special; seeing my father was a wonderful treat, and getting to meet Queen
Margrethe was a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity that I'll never forget.
I can now say that I, Viggo Mortensen, have met the wonderful, lovely,
very nice Queen of Denmark.
The elevator reaches the tenth floor, and our party makes its way out
into the hallway; bidding each other a good night, we all go to our separate
rooms. Once we're safely inside our own room, Orli and I wrap our
arms around one another and share a leisurely kiss. "So," I murmur
when our mouths finally separate, "all in all, I'd say that it's been a
very nice day."
"Well, I know that I certainly enjoyed it," Orli says with a smle as
I gently push off his coat. "Lunch with your father was absolutely
wonderful; it was even more fun than I thought it would be."
"What did he say to you before leaving that made you blush and smile?"
I ask. "It's been driving me crazy all day."
He laughs. "Just that he's never seen you so happy and he thanked
me for making you smile so much. I told him that it was my pleasure."
"He likes you a lot, although everyone likes you a lot."
"Of course they do. I'm irresistible," he jokes, kicking off
his shoes and pulling off the suit jacket he wore to the premiere.
"Oh, I'll definitely second that opinion," I tell him after I shed
my own coat and shoes.
"Then if I'm so irresistible, come and get me," he challenges, sprawling
haphazardly on the bed.
I pounce on him, getting the desired yelp of surprise and also some
massive giggling. Soon the laughter turns to whimpers as I start
pulling at his shirt, and he firmly attaches his lips to my neck.
It looks like we're going to go a few rounds tonight, so it's time to break
out the lube. No wonder Orli makes me smile so much.
Pretty
Good Year Part 20
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