It was my world and everything and everyone in it were nothing more than mere satellites orbiting my bright sun.
Everything and everyone in it was mine for the taking.
Or so I thought.
How could I not believe it? I was rich, I was beautiful, and I was adored by all who saw me.
Right out of drama school I'd been tapped for the role of a lifetime, that of the elven prince Legolas Greenleaf of Mirkwood in Peter Jackson's epic Lord of the Rings trilogy, and there it all began. From the moment I stepped onto that tiny island in the South Pacific, I knew I was special, that whatever gods there were had indeed touched me with their gifts.
It didn't matter whether I was in my elven costume or not, the looks - the touches, the naked desire for me was there in the eyes of many who saw me. Sometimes I pretended not to notice, feigned innocence - my best acting role yet. I was completely unlike my partner-in-crime Elijah Wood, who let others think him innocent until he seduced them right out of their knickers (literally).
Me? I preferred drawing out the game, for it was a game to me, the best kind. I'd watch my suitors - men and women both - seek even the merest hint of interest from me - a look, a smile, perhaps even a fleeting touch.
And even for that, I knew they'd barter their very souls. For more than that, they'd barter their families' souls.
With the wild success of the films, my status was thusly assured. Everything was possible, nothing impossible. Studios sent me tantalizing offers for leads in their upcoming films - most I did not bother to look at for I was too busy enjoying the material trappings of my hard-earned fame.
And yes, though it looks effortless on screen, I did work very hard, sometimes in great pain and hardship, for Peter was an ogre when it came to his movies.
Perhaps then, my sense of entitlement stemmed from the fact that I did earn it.
Women threw themselves at me. Men who'd never thought they could ever desire a man gazed hungrily upon my face and body, lusting for me with the same passion they'd had for a beautiful and unattainable woman.
Yes, it was my world and no one denied me anything in it.
Except him.
---
The moment I laid eyes on Viggo Peter Mortensen, no one else mattered.
I was determined to have him.
It didn't matter in the least that the man was at two decades older than myself, there was something about him, something I couldn't explain but felt deeply.
There was something about his eyes, the intensity of his stare - the way he could just gaze at you as if you were the only person who mattered.
It was how he just became Aragorn, as if Tolkien had written the character with him in mind. When he got into character, you could easily forget that Viggo Mortensen even existed. Even out of costume, most of us referred to him as our ‘King'. Like Peter, he was a perfectionist and would push himself beyond all endurance, swallowing back the pain he had to feel at almost every turn.
Sorry Stuart, but you made a much better Dorian Grey.
I was certain when our eyes met, he'd swallow me in that stare, mark me as his own. I'd never felt so passionately about anyone in my life.
Not to mention, why shouldn't I have him?
Summary: Orlando thinks the wrong man has Viggo - but in war and love all means are allowed, aren't they?
Rated: NC-17
Categories: Actor RPS Pairing: Sean/Viggo/Orlando Bloom
Warnings: NoneChallenges:
Series: CaravaggioChapters: 9 Completed: Yes
Word count: 21869 Read: 8326
Published: 30 Jul 2009 Updated: 30 Jul 2009
Story Notes:
Kink, Violence