FIC: Rain Chain (Viggo/Bean, PG)
Jan. 15th, 2005 07:11 pm![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
telesilla.livejournal.com posting in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
rugbytackleTitle: Rain Chain
Author:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
telesilla
Rating: G? PG?
Fandom/Pairing: Lotrips, VM/SB (implied VM/OB)
Archive: Ask first
Summary: Viggo's built a house in the desert.
Disclaimer: Not RL; didn't happen. If you think this has anything to do with the real actors involved, then you need to put down the crack pipe.
Notes: Rain Chains are used in place of downspouts primarily in Japan, although you can get them in the US as well. I first saw them in a Sunset magazine years ago and looked them up this afternoon for some sort of bunny that quickly vanished once I saw these pictures. Add to that the fact that I've been listening to Jennifer Warnes' cover of Leonard Cohen's "Famous Blue Raincoat" and had wanted to write about Viggo and that song in some way, and the whole thing just came together. It's been years -- ten OMG! -- but when I first started writing I headed my fics with ambiance lyrics. As usual, many thanks go out tohelens78 for the excellent beta
I hear that you’re building your little house deep in the desert
You’re living for nothing now, I hope you’re keeping some kind of record.
Famous Blue Raincoat -- Leonard Cohen
"Why do you need gutters at all?" Sean asked, looking at the stark beauty of the red rock formations that were easily visible from the deck of Viggo's new house in the New Mexico desert.
"It actually rains here," Viggo explained a little sheepishly. "On occasion."
"If you say so," Sean replied. "I like them," he added, running a hand over the smooth copper links of the rain chain that hung from the corner of the house to the point here it was anchored in the ground. "They're really well made. In a couple of years they should be nice and green."
"I hadn't thought about that, but yeah," Viggo said. Sean watched as Viggo stepped back and looked at the house, which was all stark grey angles -- not at all the kind of house Sean had imagined when Viggo had called and told him he'd built a house in the desert. "I like the way they look, as if they're keeping the house anchored to the ground. As if, without them, the whole thing would float off like a giant hot air balloon."
"It's your house," Sean said with a fond smile. "It might just do that."
"For a while, I'd have liked that idea," Viggo said, his voice a barely audible mumble. "But lately I think I'm ready to stay here on Earth."
It was the first time Viggo had talked about his break with Orlando in even the vaguest terms, and Sean couldn't help feeling a little tug of relief in his chest.
"I think we all left our Earth for Middle Earth," he finally said, his eyes once more fixed on the dry, red landscape, so unlike that of New Zealand. "I don't think any of us realized how hard it would be to come back home. I certainly didn't, and I wasn't even away as long as you were."
Not to mention that I didn't try to bring something that worked in Middle Earth back to the real world.
"And for you, home had changed," Viggo murmured.
"Yeah, but that was happening anyway," Sean said with a slight shrug.
"I wish you wouldn't do that," Viggo said. "Shrug when you talk about it. It belittles the experience."
Sean had heard that more than once from Viggo, but now he was seized with a certain degree of irritation. "You're calling the kettle black," he said. "You belittle your own experience by not talking about it at all."
"'For me the grief is yet too near,'" Viggo murmured in a surprisingly good imitation of Orlando's Legolas. Although he tried to keep his expression even, Sean's feelings must have shown in his face, for Viggo laughed a little. "It surprises you, me quoting him?"
"I think it's a little odd, yeah," Sean said. "But if I called you on every slightly odd thing you do or say, we'd never have a real conversation."
Viggo looked at Sean for a long moment before replying. "There are," he said, "very few people with whom I can have real conversations." He glanced at the sky. "Let me get dinner; I don't want us to have to do anything while the sun is going down."
From anyone else, Viggo's statement would have been either ambiguous or a warning to stay off dangerous topics. But I know he includes me in that number, and I know he'll talk to me when he's ready.
Much later than night, it did rain, complete with thunder and lightning. The noise woke Sean out of a light, jet-lagged doze, and he saw Viggo framed in the door way of the guest bedroom, his hair rumpled so that he looked oddly young.
"Sometimes," Viggo said, as if they were still having the conversation of the afternoon, "I think that I might be like the house and float off like a hot air balloon."
It was in Sean's mind to offer to be Viggo's rain chain, but he dismissed it as being too obvious a thing to say. Instead he just moved over in the bed and lifted the covers.
Orlando Sean thought as Viggo slid into bed with him, would said that.
end
Author:
telesillaRating: G? PG?
Fandom/Pairing: Lotrips, VM/SB (implied VM/OB)
Archive: Ask first
Summary: Viggo's built a house in the desert.
Disclaimer: Not RL; didn't happen. If you think this has anything to do with the real actors involved, then you need to put down the crack pipe.
Notes: Rain Chains are used in place of downspouts primarily in Japan, although you can get them in the US as well. I first saw them in a Sunset magazine years ago and looked them up this afternoon for some sort of bunny that quickly vanished once I saw these pictures. Add to that the fact that I've been listening to Jennifer Warnes' cover of Leonard Cohen's "Famous Blue Raincoat" and had wanted to write about Viggo and that song in some way, and the whole thing just came together. It's been years -- ten OMG! -- but when I first started writing I headed my fics with ambiance lyrics. As usual, many thanks go out to
helens78 for the excellent beta I hear that you’re building your little house deep in the desert
You’re living for nothing now, I hope you’re keeping some kind of record.
Famous Blue Raincoat -- Leonard Cohen
"Why do you need gutters at all?" Sean asked, looking at the stark beauty of the red rock formations that were easily visible from the deck of Viggo's new house in the New Mexico desert.
"It actually rains here," Viggo explained a little sheepishly. "On occasion."
"If you say so," Sean replied. "I like them," he added, running a hand over the smooth copper links of the rain chain that hung from the corner of the house to the point here it was anchored in the ground. "They're really well made. In a couple of years they should be nice and green."
"I hadn't thought about that, but yeah," Viggo said. Sean watched as Viggo stepped back and looked at the house, which was all stark grey angles -- not at all the kind of house Sean had imagined when Viggo had called and told him he'd built a house in the desert. "I like the way they look, as if they're keeping the house anchored to the ground. As if, without them, the whole thing would float off like a giant hot air balloon."
"It's your house," Sean said with a fond smile. "It might just do that."
"For a while, I'd have liked that idea," Viggo said, his voice a barely audible mumble. "But lately I think I'm ready to stay here on Earth."
It was the first time Viggo had talked about his break with Orlando in even the vaguest terms, and Sean couldn't help feeling a little tug of relief in his chest.
"I think we all left our Earth for Middle Earth," he finally said, his eyes once more fixed on the dry, red landscape, so unlike that of New Zealand. "I don't think any of us realized how hard it would be to come back home. I certainly didn't, and I wasn't even away as long as you were."
Not to mention that I didn't try to bring something that worked in Middle Earth back to the real world.
"And for you, home had changed," Viggo murmured.
"Yeah, but that was happening anyway," Sean said with a slight shrug.
"I wish you wouldn't do that," Viggo said. "Shrug when you talk about it. It belittles the experience."
Sean had heard that more than once from Viggo, but now he was seized with a certain degree of irritation. "You're calling the kettle black," he said. "You belittle your own experience by not talking about it at all."
"'For me the grief is yet too near,'" Viggo murmured in a surprisingly good imitation of Orlando's Legolas. Although he tried to keep his expression even, Sean's feelings must have shown in his face, for Viggo laughed a little. "It surprises you, me quoting him?"
"I think it's a little odd, yeah," Sean said. "But if I called you on every slightly odd thing you do or say, we'd never have a real conversation."
Viggo looked at Sean for a long moment before replying. "There are," he said, "very few people with whom I can have real conversations." He glanced at the sky. "Let me get dinner; I don't want us to have to do anything while the sun is going down."
From anyone else, Viggo's statement would have been either ambiguous or a warning to stay off dangerous topics. But I know he includes me in that number, and I know he'll talk to me when he's ready.
Much later than night, it did rain, complete with thunder and lightning. The noise woke Sean out of a light, jet-lagged doze, and he saw Viggo framed in the door way of the guest bedroom, his hair rumpled so that he looked oddly young.
"Sometimes," Viggo said, as if they were still having the conversation of the afternoon, "I think that I might be like the house and float off like a hot air balloon."
It was in Sean's mind to offer to be Viggo's rain chain, but he dismissed it as being too obvious a thing to say. Instead he just moved over in the bed and lifted the covers.
Orlando Sean thought as Viggo slid into bed with him, would said that.
end
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2005-01-16 03:52 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-01-16 05:55 am (UTC)Anyway, I'm glad you liked it enough to want more. Thank you!
no subject
Date: 2005-01-16 04:33 am (UTC)Best cure for a broken heart *sigh*
I live in the Southwest, and it sure does rain like that!
Will you write us a Southwest fluff with SeanandViggo? *please*
no subject
Date: 2005-01-16 06:04 am (UTC)I live in the Southwest, and it sure does rain like that!
I'm glad I got that right; I once watched the most amazing thunder storm from a hotel balcony while in NM but there wasn't any rain with it. But I've lived in deserts were you did get rain, plus whoever that house actually belongs to felt they needed something for the gutters, so....
I'm not sure about the fluff, I think Viggo's got a ways to go before I could imagine them being fluffy. But if they do tell me they're getting fluffy; you'll see it here.
Thanks for the feed back!
no subject
Date: 2005-01-16 07:30 pm (UTC)Beautiful and subtle... and this line: Not to mention that I didn't try to bring something that worked in Middle Earth back to the real world. So perfect! And it ends so well... I love the slight ambiguousness of Sean's gesture... for comfort, or more?
I'd love to see more of this, but yes, it does feel finished!
~Kris
no subject
Date: 2005-01-17 03:08 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-01-20 11:54 am (UTC)I really enjoyed this and hope you do decide to do a sequel or prequel!