TITLE: Shelter From the Storm (7/?)
AUTHOR: Elizabeth (sef7881@aol.com)
WEBSITE: https://www.angelfire.com/scary/randominsanity/RandomInsanity.html
PAIRING: Viggo Mortensen/Orlando Bloom
RATING: PG-13 for this part
SUMMARY: Finding hope in the darkest times
FEEDBACK: It's a giddy little thrill at a reasonable price
WARNINGS: AU, references to war and violence throughout the fic
DISCLAIMER: This story is solely a product of my twisted imagination
ARCHIVE: Of Elves and Men, Mirrormere, my site; all others please ask,
but I'll surely say yes
AUTHOR'S NOTES: This will be my last post until I get back from my
road trip on July 18th. Hope you all enjoy
DATE WRITTEN: July 2nd
"Is there anything else I can help you with?" Orlando asked as he finished clearing the dinner table.
"No, thank you," Viggo told him with a smile. "I can wash the dishes; don't worry about that."
"Are you sure?" Orlando stifled a yawn.
"I'm sure," Viggo laughed. "And you sound tired. Maybe you should get some sleep."
"What time is it?"
Viggo glanced at the clock. "Almost ten."
"Perhaps sleep *is* a good idea," Orlando conceded. "I've had a long day."
"That's putting it mildly," Viggo said with a wry smile, and Orlando couldn't help but join him. "Alright then, is there anything you need before turning in?"
"I can't think of anything."
"Would you like me to wake you at a particular time tomorrow morning?"
"No thanks, I think I'll just sleep as long as I can."
"I don't blame you. Well, goodnight then."
"Goodnight, Viggo," Orlando said softly, smiling at the other man. "And thank you again."
"You're welcome. Sleep well."
"You, too."
Orlando walked to the spare bedroom and shut the door behind him. He still was unable to believe the situation -- he had found a place to hide, and he didn't have to pay all of his money to stay safe.
He slipped under the blankets, sighing from exhaustion and grief. Doing what he had done every night since that fateful encounter with the SS on the outskirts of Berlin, he reached for his sack and retrieved the photograph of Andre. He brushed his fingertips reverently over the protective glass of the frame, tracing beloved features that he would never see in person again.
"I love you," he said softly, placing a kiss on the cold glass surface. "I miss you." The photo was placed gently back in the sack, and Orlando curled into a ball, trying unsuccessfully to stop the tears from falling yet again. He doubted that there would ever be a night when he would not cry himself to sleep.
*****
It was after nine in the morning when Orlando finally awoke. Once again, he was jolted into consciousness by the nightmare of fleeing into uncertainty after witnessing Andre's murder, and once again, he awoke to find his body shaking and heart racing. He calmed slightly as he remembered where he was and that he was actually safe.
Orlando stepped out of bed and stretched his limbs, inhaling deeply as he tried to shake off the aftereffects of the nightmare. A quick peek out the window revealed that it was a beautiful autumn day in Copenhagen, and Orlando suddenly felt like a caged animal. He knew that hiding was the only way to stay safe, but he abhorred sacrificing his freedom in order to do so.
He ventured out of the bedroom, going down the hall to the bathroom. After relieving himself, he decided to look in the mirror; he had briefly glanced at his reflection the first night he had been here, but now he wanted to truly look at himself. His face was gaunt from hunger and his already slender frame was painfully thin, making him look far younger than his twenty-six years. There were shadows under his eyes from a lack of sleep, and his dark curls were tangled and unruly. It was as if a stranger was staring back at him. Unable to stand the sight of himself, he turned away and walked out of the bathroom.
Deciding to search for his host, Orlando made his way to the kitchen. No Viggo. However, he spied a note on the kitchen table. He picked it up with a frown and read it. "Orlando: I went out to get a few things, and hopefully I'll be back by eleven. Help yourself to some fruit for breakfast. If you need something to do, I left some books on the table in the living room. Viggo."
Orlando hesitantly took an apple from the refrigerator and went into the living room, immediately spotting the books that had been left for him. There were two Shakespeare plays, a biography of Ptolemy, and a book of assorted American poetry. He returned to the kitchen with Viggo's worn copy of "Hamlet", then sat down at the table and began reading. A smile crossed his face as he saw scribbled notes in the margins, which were apparently Viggo's interpretations of the play.
It was over an hour later when the front door opened and Viggo walked into the apartment with two shopping bags. "Good morning," he called.
"Good morning," Orlando said, looking up from the play that he was still engrossed in as Viggo entered the kitchen. "Thank you for leaving me something to read. I love Shakespeare, especially 'Hamlet'."
"So do I. I think it might have something to do with the Danish setting, though," Viggo told him as he sat down across from Orlando. "Did you find something for breakfast?"
"I had an apple."
"Good. I went to the market and bought a number of non-meat items so you can have some balanced meals. I don't want you to be living off of just fruit and biscuits."
"Thank you."
"You're welcome. I also got you a toothbrush and a hairbrush."
"You didn't have to--"
"It was no trouble," Viggo assured him with a dismissive wave of his hand. "After all, you should have the ability to keep yourself groomed."
"Yes, I suppose so," Orlando said with a slight chuckle.
"I know that it will get boring here for you," Viggo admitted. "Most of the time, I'll be working on my paintings or writing poetry, so you'll have a lot of empty time to fill. But I do have a number of books that you're welcome to read."
"Thank you. I'm sure I'll find some way to keep myself occupied."
"Also, I really don't have any visitors here, and my landlady minds her own business. I really can't imagine that you'd be in jeopardy of being discovered. However, it might make sense for you to stay in your room just to be safe; except, of course, if you need to use the bathroom. I hate to confine you to one room, but I think it's necessary for your safety."
Orlando nodded. "I agree."
"But I can't think of any reason why you wouldn't be completely safe here." Viggo smiled at him. "And if you need anything, please ask. You're a guest here, Orlando; I don't want you to feel like a prisoner. This is an extremely difficult time for you, and I want to do whatever I can to make you feel comfortable."
"Thank you."
"Should I leave you to read Shakespeare in your room now?" Viggo asked.
"That sounds good."
"If there's anything you need, I'll be in my studio. Just call my name, alright?"
"Yes. Also . . . would you mind if I used your shower?"
"Go right ahead," Viggo told him. "And I'll try to find some clean clothes that won't be too big on you."
Orlando nodded and gave Viggo a smile. "I appreciate that."
"It's no problem. Let me know if there's anything else I can do for you."
"I will, thank you." Orlando smiled again and then took "Hamlet"
to his room, dropping it on the bed and deciding to relax for a minute
before heading for a shower. As he thought about it, he realized
that he felt oddly at ease around Viggo. He knew that having this
man's generosity, and possibly friendship, could help survive the most
difficult time of his life.
