Chapter 2



Viggo groaned and turned over. He opened his eyes and a shaft of bright sunlight stabbed straight into his brain. As though that were a signal, a hammer began pounding on his skull, dully, rhythmically, and painfully. His tongue was stuck to the roof of his mouth and his teeth had grown fleece coats. He levered himself to a sitting position and nearly threw up. Blearily, he looked around and alarm bells started to go off.

Where the hell was he? This wasn't his trailer. Viggo took another look around at the disordered room and it began to seem familiar. It was Orlando's trailer. What was he doing in Orlando's trailer and where was Orlando? Viggo looked up as something brushed his shoulder. Why the hell was a pair of jeans tied to the curtain rod? And Orlando was probably not going to like the fact that an entire bottle of massage oil had leaked out onto the carpet. Feeling like he was coming down with the flu, Viggo dragged himself up and grabbed onto the back of a chair to keep from losing his balance.

Somehow, despite the blinding rays of the rising sun, his lack of coordination and the fact that his every cell ached, Viggo made it to his trailer and got into the shower. After standing under the nozzle until the hot water was gone, he felt marginally better. He was able to face the thought of breakfast, and then an actual breakfast. By the time he'd finished eating, he thought he might make it through the rest of the day. Donning his costume and picking up his sword, he headed off the set.

"Elijah," he called out as he saw the young actor walking ahead of him. "Have you seen Orlando? I have a little mystery for him to solve."

Elijah gave Viggo an odd look. "What mystery?"

"Why I woke up on his couch this morning with what appears to be a champion hangover."

"I don't know," Elijah said. "You left Ian's party early. I didn't see you after that."

"It's not really important," Viggo said unconvincingly.

What had happened last night? Viggo was not at all comfortable about having spent the night on Orlando's couch or the fact that he couldn't remember how he'd got there.

"He's probably still in Make-up at this hour," Elijah said. "I've got to get into my feet. See you."

Viggo walked to the Make-up trailer but was stopped by Ian McKellan, already in full Gandalf drag. The older actor requested a moment of Viggo's time, and pulled him out of the main flow of traffic behind a large tent.

"Young Orlando knocked on my door at three this morning," Ian said. "He was quite upset about something, but refused to tell me what the problem was. I sat up with him for a while, but he didn't seem to want to talk. He mentioned your name when he first arrived and I wonder if you might know what is troubling him."

"I'm sorry; I don't have a clue," Viggo said. "I think I drank more than was good for me last night. Frankly, I don't remember much about it."

Ian nodded his understanding. "You and me both, my boy. Well, Orlando came to the set, so maybe whatever it was has passed. He did have me worried last night, though. He was in such a state when I opened the door. I thought at first that he'd been in some sort of accident. Gave me quite a turn, I can tell you."

"You said he seemed alright this morning?"

"I suppose. I don't know him that well, but he showered and got dressed and rode in with me like a reasonable person. Still, it was odd him showing up like that."

"He's a kid," Viggo said. "Who knows why kids do anything?"

"Actually, they usually have a good reason," Ian said, "but we should be getting to the set. Just help me keep an eye on the lad, will you? This is a very enlightened crew but still . . . it isn't always easy being honest about what you are."

Viggo looked uncomfortable and moved back out into the open. Ian followed as they made their way to the set. Behind them, two curly heads popped out from behind a stack of crates.

"How does everyone manage to stumble onto our favorite shaggin' spots?" Billy complained.

"Hush, Billy," Dom said. "Weren't you listenin'? Orli's in trouble."

"I didn't hear that, at all," Billy said. "Orli could've had a dozen reasons for goin' to Ian's place in the middle of the night."

"Right. Like maybe he fancies Ian, eh?"

"Could do," Billy said. "Why not?"

Dom shook his head. "You're 'opeless, Billy me love. It's a good job you've got such a cute bottom or I'd never come near ya."

Billy snorted. "You love my ass. You couldn't leave it behind."

"That's what I said, fool." Dom fell silent for a long moment while he thought.

"Dom?"

"What is it?"

"Could I raise a practical question at this point?"

Dom sighed. "Go ahead, Bill."

"Are ya goin' t'finish shaggin' me? 'Cause if ya aren't, could you take yer cock out o'me bum?"



"Viggo!" Peter Jackson called his Aragorn over to the Council set.

Hugo Weaving, Sean Bean, John Rhys-Davies and Orlando were already there in costume. Several extras that would make up the rest of the council of Men, Elves and Dwarves waited on the periphery until they were called. The four Hobbits were still in Prosthetics, but they weren't needed for the next shot. Viggo greeted everyone, glad that the pounding in his skull had been reduced to a dull throbbing.

"You all know this scene," Peter was saying. "Legolas leaps to Aragorn's defense when Boromir sneers at Isildur's heir."

"Yeah," Sean chuckled, "Boromir really strikes a nerve there. Could it be that Mirkwood's fair prince has a crush on the Ranger?"

Everyone chuckled except for Viggo and Orlando. No one noticed that the two were not laughing, as Hugo added to merriment.

"Arwen's not going to be too keen on that," the Australian actor said to Viggo. "Better not let the girl catch you pashing on Legolas, mortal. She might ask me to turn you into a frog or something like that."

"Stop it, you two," John said gruffly. "I don't want to go through this production picturing Aragorn bending the Elf over and showing him the Sword Reforged."

Hugo and Sean cracked up but sobered when Orlando walked quickly away without a word.

"Where's Orli going?" Sean asked no one in particular.

"Orlando," Peter called. "We need you at this meeting."

The young actor threw up a hand in an unclear gesture and kept moving. He nearly bowled over Ian, who took the boy by the arm and stopped him. The two spoke briefly and then Ian let Orlando go.

"Orlando asked me to convey his apologies," Ian said, as he reached the group. "He thinks he had some bad seafood last night. He's just dashing off to the bog."

"Poor kid," Sean said. "I had food poisoning once. Thought I'd puke me guts up."

"That's nice, Sean," Peter said. "Let's work on your speech until Orlando gets back."

Sean ran though his 'it is a gift' monologue a couple of times and then Orlando trotted up. Peter had the young actor spring out of his chair several different ways until he saw something he liked. Positioning the three central actors of the scene, the director asked them to run through it loosely.

Viggo told Sean that he could not wield the Ring. Sean haughtily inquired what a Ranger would know of it. They waited for the Elf to jump up and declare that Aragorn was no mere Ranger. They waited a while longer and then turned to look at Orlando.

"Orlando?" Peter called. "I said play it loose, but that's a bit too casual. I'd like you to actually say your line."

"Sorry, P.J." Orlando said, looking at the flagstones under his feet. "Can we do it again?"

"That's why we're here," Peter said.

This time, Legolas got to his feet and coldly informed Boromir that Aragorn was indeed 'a mere Ranger'. They started over and when Sean delivered his line, Orlando leaped up and his chair went flying backward. Peter called someone to make sure the chair was fastened to the ground and they began again. Legolas surged to his feet and hotly let this Boromir character know that he was outranked, outclassed and should be down on one knee. It was a beautiful line reading and Peter was smiling broadly. Then Aragorn turned and sharply told the Elf to sit down.

Orlando stared at his co-star long enough to make everyone uncomfortable and then tears spilled over to run down his pale cheeks. "My contacts," he choked out.

Peter turned and hollered for someone to come and help Orlando. "Just pop 'em out," the director said to his Legolas. "Don't worry about the bloody lenses."

"No, it's okay," Orlando said. "They just made me tear up for a minute."

"Sure? All right, then, that was looking good everybody. Game for another go? Viggo, not so vehement when you scold Legolas, eh?"

Billy and Dom exchanged a glance and resumed watching the rehearsal from behind Hugo.

"Ian's right," Dom said. "There's somethin' wrong with Orli."

Billy nodded. "Poor Orli. He looks so sad."

"That he does, Billy me love, and we're goin' t'find out why."

"All right, then," Billy nodded. "I'm in."

Hugo turned and glared at the two young actors. "I'm trying to listen to the run-through," he said. "Do you mind taking your conversation elsewhere?"

"Touchy," Billy said.

"Aye. What a crab. Let's go over there."

A half hour later, the cast broke for lunch, and Viggo called after Orlando.

"Hold up a minute," he said. "What's going on with you?"

Orlando looked quickly around. People were scattering, but there were still plenty of crewmembers on the set. "What's going on with me?" he repeated incredulously.

"You're really jumpy today," Viggo said. "More than usual. What the hell went on last night?"

Orlando's eyes widened and he was struck dumb for a long moment. "Are you fucking with me?" he said at last.

"What?"

"This isn't funny in the least."

"I agree completely. Are you going to answer my question, or are you going to space out the way you did during rehearsal?"

"Son of a bitch," Orlando said. "Get away from me."

"What's up your butt?" Viggo asked, annoyed by the irrational response to his question.

Viggo stepped quickly back and evaded the punch Orlando aimed at his jaw. The man grabbed Orlando's arm to prevent a second attempt and the young man wrenched violently away from him. Viggo stared in astonishment at the obviously frightened boy and something in the dark eyes triggered his memory. He let go of Orlando as if the boy's skin were red hot and stepped away from him again.

*God, no, please, no, don't let this be true* went through Viggo's mind endlessly as images of his bestial behavior flashed strobe like in his brain. He saw himself pounce on the boy. The makeshift denim rope. Forcing his cock into . . . Viggo suddenly bent double and retched helplessly, as the boy moved farther away from him.

"Oh God," Viggo said weakly. "Orlando. I'm sorry . . . I . . . " Nausea hit him again and he heaved dryly. "Tell me it was an alcohol induced hallucination," he begged when he straightened up again.

Orlando's gaze flicked about the set, returning to stare warily at the man. "People are beginning to stare at us," he said. "I don't want to be alone with you, but I think we should find a bit more privacy."

Viggo followed the young man into the edge of the faux forest of Rivendell. Orlando turned, Legolas' silken tresses floating in his wake and faced his co-star.

"Do you expect me to believe that you don't remember what happened last night?"

"No, I remember now," Viggo said miserably, "but last night, I didn't know what I was doing."

"Bullshit! You tied me up and raped me. You knew what you were doing all right."

"I swear to you that I didn't mean for that to happen."

"But it did happen," Orlando said. "You forced yourself on me. How can I work with you? I can barely face you."

Viggo dropped to his knees, his head bowed and his eyes closed. He had never felt lower. Not even when Exene had walked out taking Henry with her.

"I'm sorry," he said knowing how inadequate the words were, but compelled to say them anyway.

"I can't even stand your voice," Orlando whispered. "You said the most awful things to me while you were . . . inside me. The worst was when you told me that I deserved what was happening." Tears overflowed his lovely eyes again. "I looked up to you. I even had kind of a silly crush on you. Silly 'cause I could see you didn't like boys, but I daydreamed about you anyway." Orlando swallowed, and then continued. "Why did you do it?" he asked. "I would have laid down for you for one of your smiles. Why did you have to rape me?"

"I was insane," Viggo said dully. "What other answer can there be?"

Orlando looked down at him. "Well don't worry. I won't tell anyone."

Viggo's head came up. "Why not?"

"Who would believe me? I'm not some ninety-seven pound girl. I'm a reasonably strong young man who's been taught to fight. I should have been able to fend you off. You were blind drunk, for fuck's sake." Orlando's voice had risen steadily until he practically shouted the last words. When he spoke again, it was in a much more subdued tone. "I didn't fight you off," he said. "I let you tie my up so I could pretend I didn't want it, but it's hard to hide it when you come." His voice dropped to a whisper again. "You were right. I wanted it and you gave it to me. What right do I have to go to the police or anyone else?"

"You weren't . . . injured, were you?" Viggo asked hesitantly.

Orlando shook his head. "I'm just . . . I'm afraid of you," he said.

"I'm never going to touch alcohol again," Viggo vowed, "and I'll talk to a therapist about what happened."

Orlando blinked. "Well that sounds like a good plan for you," he said finally. "I hope it works out."

"You should talk to someone, too," Viggo said.

"I'll think about it. I just wish . . ."

"What?"

"Nothing. Get up. If anybody sees you, they'll think you're proposing."

Viggo's heart contracted unexpectedly. "I'm so sorry," he said again.

"You can't keep apologizing," Orlando said. "Someone's going to ask about it."

"You're being very calm and understanding about this," Viggo said.

"You think so? What else can I do? It happened and I have to deal with it. Am I going to let it cost me the chance to work on this film? Absolutely not, not if I can help it. I won't say anything to anybody about what happened and I'd appreciate it if you told no one but your therapist."

Viggo nodded. "I'm grateful," he said. "You've no reason to be generous to me."

"You're right. I just don't want anyone knowing about it. It's too humiliating."

Viggo's hand went out in an instinctive gesture of comfort, but the boy stared at it as though it were a tentacle. "You're right," Viggo said. "I'm a monster. I should leave the production and just get help."

"No! You can't do that to Peter. He's already been through one Aragorn. Don't make him replace you, especially as you're so bloody perfect for the part." Orlando stared through the trees at nothing in particular. "You are Aragorn," he said softly, "and I have to believe it's because Viggo Mortensen is basically a good man."

Without another word, Orlando walked away in the direction of the craft services tent. Viggo stared after him, torn between his desire to run after him and the knowledge that his company was not wanted. Then the man went to fetch his cell phone and make some arrangements.

Read Chapter 3 of 12 of Bailey's Casualties of Love