Bella ~ [dis]abled com[plex] (deeply_vile) wrote in lotrporn,
Bella ~ [dis]abled com[plex]
deeply_vile
lotrporn

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Okay...

I promised something, right? Well, here is my official first post... A short fic thing for you. :)
This is my first Lotr one, though. And totally - then - my first Orlijah or... whatever you're calling it. heehee...


Title: "Feigned Surrender" 1/3
Part 1: "Surrender"
Rating: R-NC-17 (Swearing, dirty sex eventually, angst...oi. just stuff)
Disclaimer: I don't own anyone. Nope, natta, zilch. The lyrics belong to Depeche Mode. They are from the song "Surrender". See, I don't own the titles, either. Yeah, I'm a sad llama. ;_;
Pairing: Elijah/Orlando
/Spoiler/: I've spread myself thin and I've tried to beat this out of me. I hate it that I love you. I hate it so fucking much because I know you'd never love me... and this is just another waste of myself.
X-posted... in a couple of places.

*stretches fingers*


Laying on your holy bed
by the hallowed door
Feeling like an infidel
Not worthy of your call
Tempted by your innocence
Beckoned to my fate
I won't face the consequence
I wouldn't hesitate--


Orlando obviously was never a man anyone would suspect to have weaknesses or a faulty confidence. He was crazy and daring and made people around him feel good. But being a man of just what people don't suspect sometimes is hard to deal with. You've got to worry about how people will see you if they figure out that, yes, you are actually really very human and - yes - you have many weaknesses. You've also got the worries of people thinking that with a faulty confidence, the egotism has to be blasting with a man like him. Eloquent eyes, eloquent words, ethereal beauty - so why would one see him as a man with faulty confidence at all, and how would one react to this? Obviously, he doesn't have a problem with getting up in front of a crowd or going off and risking his life. The confidence - or lack thereof in this case - lies in his own romantic life. Always one to be able to sweet talk a woman has been easy - very easy - for him. Seduction, innocently draping a veil in front of someone's eyes for his own play and amusement, has been the easiest thing.

So why - now - does the factor of faulty confidence come up when he's been enjoying life and pleasantly launching himself into friendships with a fabulous career in acting picking up on the whirlwind and dragging him along? Why, now, when he's happiest he's been and able to forget any worries or sorrows he'd picked up along the way?

The fear of finally falling in love - and with someone that seems to so not be his own known type. The most minor detail he tries to focus on is the fact that this person is not, in fact, blond. He attempts to distract himself with this, trying desperately to make himself believe that this could dull his interest. This only engages him in wonderment to how he found himself in such a sticky situation in the first place, and causes him more grief in his flabbergasted mind of his precarious situation.

As he struggles with his own inner feelings that are fighting to take control of his better sense, the dawning horror that falls on him is that - if he does come to agreement with his heart, then he knows he's in for a major letdown, because, even though the soul his own has fallen dangerously in love with - the feelings have to be unrequited. A friendship is more important than a relationship, so, when he comes to acceptance of his feelings, he knows he'll have to stuff them down or he'll be overcome with even more grief than he could handle with the thought of losing his friend over something so...unimportant.



Staring intently into space as if in a spell of sorts is something Orlando's been known to do lately, but in the middle of a lunch with two old friend's he ran into is slightly rude. Besides, they don't have any idea that he's been out of body - not himself - for the best three weeks.

Sean reaches across the table to shove Orlando's shoulder, rather roughly, which snaps his attention on him. His eyes are fiercely clouded over with something that is unrecognizable as Orlando's natural emotions, and Viggo is slightly worried.

"You alright ol' friend?" He smiles a little, tapping Orlando's hand, which is splayed on the glass-topped table; sweating.

"Huh?" He's hear a fuzzy sounding voice and all he caught was "friend". Sean shakes his head and sighs.

"What's the deep pondering for, Orlando?" He questions, ignoring Viggo's more important question about Orlando's health.

"Huh? Oh, um," he looks around sheepishly, blushing. "just some personal stuff." Sean chuckles at this and takes a sip of his drink, looking around the brightly lit restaurant they are seated in. Viggo leans forward again, staring down at Orlando intensely. Suddenly, Orlando is painfully aware of the years Viggo has on him and how unacceptable his answer is.

"I don't believe you, Orlando. If it's something I learned about you in the long period of time we spent together, it's that you don't hide anything; especially things from friends. Now, are you okay? Do you need to lie down?" Orlando lets out a hushed breath, slightly relieved Viggo thinks it's his health getting to him, and not his conscience.

"Oh, yeah. I've just been feeling a little bad lately. You know, busy." He adds a small chuckle on the end as if scolding himself for working too hard, even thought he hasn't been. Viggo takes this as acceptable, and settles back into his chair, back into the content feeling of being with two missed friends again.

Orlando wishes he could do the same.



When he leaves the restaurant after the lunch with promises to call and visit more often, he realizes - rather painfully - that he has to come to some sort of resolution or he's going to be driven insane by his inner demons. So, he pulls his cellphone out and makes plans to meet with Elijah as soon as possible.

I'm a man of flesh and bone
Rapture
Rushing through my veins
Passion
Flaming
In my heart
Heavenly surrender once again
Yeah--


Orlando is playing with the edges of a menu when Elijah walks up, a bright smile on his face and his eyes equally as excited. He all but yanks Orlando out of his chair and into a large bear hug, nearly jumping on him as he's been prone to do. Orlando slowly smiles, hugging back with equal force, and holding on a little too long. Elijah's laughing softly in his ear, and Orlando lets go, as red as a beet. Elijah's friendly banter then ensues at how much he's been missed and why, and Orlando has to admit - the kid is addictive. Addictive smile that reaches his eyes all the time, addictive laugh, addictive humour, addictive feelings.

Orlando notices Elijah's wearing a tshirt with his face sprawled across it as the lovely Elf, Legolas, and just laughs out loud. Elijah looks confused for moment, then realizes what he wore to their lunch as a joke, and giggles, too.

"Dress for the occasion, 'Lij?" The younger man smiles his addictive smile and ads a heart-warming wink.

"Oh I just love it when I can look in the mirror and see you there, too." He bats his eyelashes playfully, and Orlando shakes his head chuckling now. Their laughter dies out and Orlando's suddenly serious, staring out the glass window and onto the street.

"I missed you." Elijah's head jerks head towards Orlando's face, and he leans forward.

"Yeah? I missed you, too." He sees the sadness clouding Orlando's honey eyes and frowns. "Something wrong?" The seemingly always laughing man shakes his head and ducks it down, hiding his face behind the menu. Elijah gives the words a second glance, tempted to jerk it away and fire questions at him until he breaks, but decides against it. Instead, he buries his face in his own menu, searching for something appealing to eat; he's suddenly lost his appetite.



A whole meal later, they're back to their friendly banter and playful mood, and Elijah is vivaciously bouncing in his chair, hyped up with the soda, babbling like a chipmunk. Orlando only picks up a few slurred yet amusing words, and chuckles and laughs every now and then. He shakes his head, tempted to go and tell the cooks to not bring out the desert, lord knows Elijah has had enough sugar already.

A sweet chocolate cake, rightfully titled Decadence, is in front of Elijah, and he's taking bites and chewing as if it was the last thing on earth he'd be able to do. The amusement is plastered all over Orlando's face, and he admires the grace and agility at which he seems to be eating, and at such a fast pace.

"You'd better slow down, you'll give yourself a stomach ache."

"Thank you, Daddy." Elijah grins a chocolate-grin, and Orlando laughs hard.

"You've got something," he's motioning to his own face, still chuckling. "on your...no, lower. Over. Higher. Oh, too much. No,lo--let me." He reaches out with his napkin and gently wipes at the chocolate cream sitting right where Elijah's dimple shows when he smiles. And he's smiling. Orlando smiles, unconsciously, and sits back in his chair shaking his head.

"Ugh, I'm stuffed. What do you want to do next?" Orlando shrugs, playing with the edge of a clean napkin and tearing it to pieces. "I say we go play in traffic so I can run that chocolate cake off." He can't fight the laugh that's stuck in his throat, and he throws a piece of napkin at Elijah.

"Lets not and say we did. Too risky, and besides - I don't want to be there to see you drop dead. Everyone will say it's my fault."

"Something too risky for you?" Elijah gasps, mockingly. Orlando throws more napkin at him, and then dumps the entire pile of ripped up pieces on Elijah's head. Elijah stares, mouth agape, and then settles into an unamused face while Orlando laughs his heart out. "Oh, this is so funny. So very funny. It's all stuck in my hair!" Orlando laughs harder, a slight snort at the end of high-pitched yelp sounding laugh, and Elijah points in surprise.

"You snorted!" Orlando laughs harder, snorting again, and Elijah begins giggling. "You never cease to amaze me. Never!" By now he's pulling the napkin pieces from his lap, shoulders, and hair, and putting them in a neat pile. By the time Orlando's done laughing, Elijah's got a handful of paper, and smiles viciously before dumping it all over Orlando's head. He giggles and points, doing a dance in his chair.

"Payback!" He grins, victoriously, and gets up to go pay for their lunch, leaving Orlando in splinters as he attempts to clean the napkin pieces off of himself while laughing - at himself.



Five minutes later finds them in one of Elijah's favourite record stores. He's concentrating deeply on listening to a new band - rather someone he'd never heard of - and Orlando starts laughing out of nowhere. Elijah stares at him for a moment, and then pokes him in the shoulder. Orlando giggles harder and louder, and Elijah takes a step back, eyebrows raised.

"You're loony! What is so fuckin' funny you maniac?"

"This...whole...bloody...situation!" Orlando spits out between giggles, pointing between himself and Elijah, and then being swallowed up by another fit of laughter. Elijah eyes him warily, and then puts the CD back where he found it. He grabs Orlando's hand and pulls the giggling man towards the bathrooms located in the back of the store. He cups his hands under the faucet, then splashes it all onto Orlando's face.

"What the fuck?" Orlando snaps, staring at him curiously.

"Just to be sure you're fine now. Stop laughing you psycho. What the Hell is wrong with you?" Orlando seems to curl in upon himself, looking at the floor and beginning to flush painfully red. "Are you on drugs?" Elijah asks, eyes wide and angry.

"What? NO! Fuck no...I just - I'm not myself lately, tha's it." He shifts, fingers fiddling with his rings.

"You're nervous. What're you nervous about, Orlando? You can tell me, you know." Orlando looks up, eyes wide and his breath hitching.

"I...I'm...I can't. Excuse me, I need air." Elijah steps back and stares, in wonderment, at Orlando's retreating back through the door.

Shackled like an animal
Chained to my desires
Just another sacrifice
To love's eternal fight
Tame me with your tenderness
And break my brittle heart
Easily and elegantly
Tear my world apart--


Elijah walks out of the store a few minutes after with a small plastic bag in his hand, and looks around for his friend. He spots Orlando a few stores down, sitting on a bench with his head in his hands, elbows on his knees, and staring off again. Elijah walks down the sidewalk, and sits beside him on the bench.

"Something bothering you? Because if there is, then I want to know. I want to help fix it, Orlando. You're my friend, and one of the only ones I've got. One of the closest ones I've got. I just want to be sure nothing serious is going on so I don't go home and worry myself to grey hair about you. I already worry enough, wondering if something would happen to you. Psycho fans, drunk drivers, terrorists, bombs, airplane crashes, psychos...period. I just couldn't handle it if something was going on and I couldn't help." Elijah stops when he sees Orlando staring at him with a smile, a bittersweet, sad smile.

"That means more than you could know, Elijah."

"Well it's true. What are friends for, yeah?" He says, lighting a cigarette and looking up at the sky. Clouds are starting to slide in, and he sighs out smoke. "Looks like it may rain. You never really know anymore." Orlando nods, tearing his eyes away from the side of Elijah's head and up to here his gaze is settled in the sky.

"Lets go surfing." He says, randomly. "Before the rain does come, you know." Elijah smiles brightly at him and nods, stubbing out his half finished cigarette and standing. Orlando follows Elijah back to the restaurant where his car is still parked in the lot.



A few hours later, Orlando is sprawled out in the sand, all limbs and sea water, gasping. Elijah collapses next to him and starts chuckling.

"Now what's so amusing to you?"

"The sky is blue again." He looks over at Orlando, one eye squinted from the angle of the sun on his face. Orlando chuckles, too, and looks over at Elijah, then blushes and looks away as his eyes meet Elijah's. "You're so not yourself today, Orlando." He says, accusingly, and sits up to unzip his wet suit.

"I'm just...thinking about things. I can't stop thinking about these things, either. I'm trying to come to an agreement with myself in so many ways that I'm confusing myself more. I just gotta resolve some things, you know? Actually, more like accept some things and create them some way or whatever." Elijah chuckles, laying back down and rolling onto his stomach, his cheek pressed into the sand.

"I love your Orlando." Orlando nearly chokes on his own breath and spit and looks over at him, bewildered.

"What?"

"You're just so funny sometimes, and a great friend." Orlando lets out a shaky breath, slightly startled, and stares out at the ocean. He smiles a bit, tenderly, and sits up.

"Love ya, too, 'Lijah." He stands, grabs his board again, and runs back into the water before he finds himself wanting to cry and scream at his feelings and situation.

I'm a man of flesh and bone
Rapture
Rushing through my veins
Passion
Flaming
In my heart
Heavenly surrender once again
Yeah--


By nightfall, the beach they've occupied is pretty vacant. They're laying side by side in the sand, too prostrated to leave the beach yet. The stars twinkle to life one by one, showing up as if drawn, and the moon shines down onto the water. It's full and abundant and casting a glow seemingly only on Elijah. The light bathes him and makes him look more inviting and beautiful than before. Orlando's fingers itch to rub his scalp and feel his back, feel the muscles in his stomach and chest, feel his hips flex. His lips itch to taste his mouth, explore his flesh, run their greedy reign over his body, as if owning it. He longs with his whole soul to feel the kind of hazy afterglow and comfort of anything and everything.

His lip trembles and he bites it, pulling it into his mouth and letting a moan die in his throat at the images he's titled forbidden to himself. All of his self-control goes into not throwing himself out in the open, not begging for Elijah's love and touch and soul and heart. His self-control is growing thin, and nothing is being built up to reinforce it. He's got no more soldiers inside of himself to fight the battle he knows, now, he's going to lose. A noise tears himself out of his thoughts, and he looks over to find Elijah gone from his spot beside him. He sits up, looking around, and his eyes slide onto the water.

Elijah is laying on the surf, sighing happily, and talking to Orlando. He blushes, knowing he didn't catch half of what the boy has said, and crawls over to him.

"I was staring off again. I didn't hear a thing you said. I didn't even know you were gone until I heard the water splashing and you laughing."

"You're and poet and you didn't know it." Orlando smirks, shaking his head, and brushing back the wet hair from Elijah's forehead, then pulls his hand back as if it would be bitten. He looks at it with wide eyes and then down at Elijah, who's looking happily up at him, a liquid smile on his face.

"Sorry - I...get weird sometimes."

"It's quite alright." He smiles, sitting up. "I like it when you touch me, it makes me feel loved...or not alone, you know? Although I'm not feeling alone most of the time because I'm not, but it's just that kind of thing. It doesn't really make sense, but you know what I mean right?"

"You ramble a lot, Elijah."

"I know. I do it when I'm... nervous."

"Nervous?" Elijah blushes at the inquisitive glare from Orlando.

"You don't have to be so sever, Orlando, but yes. Nervous."

"Why, my dear friend, would you feel nervous?" Again, more blushing, and Orlando's stomach is overcome with butterflies, a sort of sick feeling he doesn't like. It makes him feel like hang-overs or mornings with the flu.

"I just do. I want to swim!" The lithe young boy in front of him jumps up, and takes off into the water, far away from Orlando, who's trying to decide between swimming or watching. His want wins over his better judgment. He takes off after Elijah, finding himself laughing, because Elijah is just addictive. The laugh he has is addictive and rings off of everything and bounces back to whoever surrounds him, causing them to laugh, also. No matter if what is being laughed at is not funny and no matter if it is inappropriate to laugh, whoever surrounds him is laughing when he is.

Addictive. Orlando smiles inside, like he's looking down at himself from some other channel of life, and suddenly understands why he's come to loving Elijah and how he's come to bearing it; accepting the fact that he loves Elijah, and that something must be done to let this out before he bursts.

We're living in a world full of illusion
Everything is so unreal
My mind is in a state of confusion
But I can't deny the way I feel--


The splashing and wrestling is fun, until the self-induced fear of sharks from Orlando's behalf makes them scramble back onto the beach and lay down gasping for air through their dying laughter, again. This time, Orlando rolls onto his side, close to Elijah, and brushes his wet hair back from his forehead again, smiling the happiest smile he's had to have smiled. An addictive smile, an accepting smile. He leans down slowly, his lips brushing the spot where a dimple shows in Elijah's cheek when he smiles, and he's smiling. Orlando smiles again, from serious to happy to serious he pings inside. His lips brush the corner of Elijah's mouth, playing it tentative, careful. Elijah opens his mouth to say something, but stops at the sight of Orlando's troubled eyes.

"This is what you've been mulling over?" He exclaims, breathless. Orlando blushes and nods indecisively, before leaning forward again and whispering his lips across Elijah's. He leans black, jaws clenched and eyebrows furrowed in painful consideration and thought. Elijah sits up, blinking and shaking unsteadily, before standing and walking down the beach, away from Orlando, slightly freaked and slightly excited. Orlando trembles, falling upon himself and collapsing on the inside. He curls up, cradling his head on the curve of the inside of his elbow, and heaving a sigh.

"I'm so fucked." He whispers, biting his lip and trying not to cry.



Elijah stops walking. He looks behind him and doesn't see where he and Orlando were, then flops down into the sand and staring at the water. So many emotions flying through his mind and body, biting his lip in thought. His eyebrows are furrowed and he's praying - hoping - for guidance from anyone, any deity he's ever heard of. He sighs, falling back and staring into the sky. His thoughts keep moving, a hundred miles per hour, slamming into his skull and then turning around to slam into the other side, repeat. His closes his eyes tight, rubs his eyes with his palms hard, pressing them into his eyeballs, feeling the light-headed sensation and then the sparkling. He sighs, again, and falls limp, staring into the deep night.

"Twinkle twinkle little star," stopping, he smiles a bit. "how I wonder what you are. Up above the world so high; like a diamond in the sky." He stops again, giggles, and shakes his head, rolling onto his stomach, worry creeping into his mind. He gets up, the better half of him choosing to not ignore his friend, and at least talk. He sets off back in the same direction, waiting to see Orlando sprawled across the sand.



He hears footsteps, gentle humming of a childhood nursery rhyme, and sniffles, rolling over, putting his back to the direction it's coming from, and hiding his face with his hands. He's trying to hide the fact he's actually crying. Right about now he wishes he was an Elf, and didn't cry; couldn't cry. Elijah collapses next to him, and eyes him with raised eyebrows, before prodding him with his index finger.

He gets a muffled sniffle in reply, and Elijah frowns, grabbing Orlando's upper arm and pulling until he's rolled onto his back. His face is still away from him.

"Will you look at me, damnit?" He demands angrily. Orlando reluctantly looks over at Elijah, biting his lip.

"I'm sorry, 'Lij. I... Sometimes I get fucked up. I've been plenty fucked up lately. All I keep thinkin' about is you and it's killing me, honestly. I can't stand it but I've got to accept it sometime, understand that my feelings are deeper than a friendship. I know I don't want them to be but - God damnit I haven't gotten any peace since we've finished filming and parted ways because of you. You're driving me fucking insane and I can't stand it. If I were to go another moment without you I would have lost it, so I called you and we met up...but I've been driven crazier throughout the entire day than I had being without you. I don't know what hurts worse. Not seeing you or being with you without being to let you know that I love you. Genuinely fucking love you. Lord knows I fought with that for weeks. It's still an ongoing battle because I hate it that I love you; and I hate you because I love you. I don't want to love you and never did, but my heart loves you and something inside of me seemed to agree with it, something powerful, because every part of me loves you now. You're so fucking addictive and I feel pretty damn lost without being around you, without hearing your laugh or seeing your smile. I'm," he pauses for a deep breath and his eyes cloud over with tears again as he looks away from Elijah and back to the water. "I'm being beaten up inside my head and my heart. God how bloody cliché is this? I'm pouring myself out here because I'm broken and lost without seeing you for a day. I feel like nothing, like I have nothing, and am not fulfilled because you're not there and it makes me feel shitty. I've spread myself thin and I've tried to beat this out of me. I hate it that I love you. I hate it so fucking much because I know you'd never love me... and this is just another waste of myself. God, I'm just throwing myself away constantly. I can't...stand it that I want you, need you, near me to feel right." His voice breaks a bit and he bites his tongue to swallow a sob that hurts his chest, and he attempts to get up but falls on his bum, leans forward with his elbows on his knees, shoves his face in his hands, and cries. His whole body shakes with his cries and he sobs violently against his skin, trying to block out the silence from Elijah.

The ongoing battle in Elijah's mind breaks at the look of Orlando looking so helpless and alone. Suddenly he becomes such a fragile image in his mind that it hurts to think of him as anything different than what he'd known before. He sits up, wrapping an arm around his shoulders, and pulling him tightly against his body. He rubs his side, cooing in his ear as he cries, trying to calm the older man down before he punctures a lung with his violent gasping and sobbing.



The suns coming up before they're sitting in silence in Elijah's driveway. The entire main house is dark and unlit, and he's staring straight ahead, afraid of what to say; of what he will say. Orlando looks washed up and tired. His eyes are heavily lidded and blood shot, and he's leaning against the window looking broken and so alone. Elijah feels his hands trembling first, then his throat feels blocked and he's got the feeling of having to puke. He swallows hard and recognizes the lump as the warning he's going to cry. He looks out his own window, attempting to shove it down into his gut. His tears fall silently and he bites his lip angrily, so hard it bleeds lightly. He doesn't want to say anything for fear it'll be wrong. He looks over at Orlando again, who seems to look even more fragile than a few seconds ago. He heaves a sigh and leans over, grabbing Orlando's shoulder and pulling him closer and closer until he's on his lap.

I'm a man of flesh and bone
Rapture
Rushing through my veins
Yeah...


Fresh tears spring to Orlando's eyes and he puts his hand over his face trying to block them from falling and leans into the warm embrace of Elijah's arms. He feels tears on his own shoulder, and clutches Elijah's sides strongly, a death grip he's afraid to let go of. Elijah clutches his back, pushing his face against Orlando's shoulder and rocking him gently.

"There's a lot of things I could say to try to make this okay, but it's all wrong to me. There's nothing I can say to tell you how fucking touched I am and more than convinced you're not just shitting me. I wish I could say something that might mean I know how you feel, but I don't. The closest I can get to it is that I know how lonely it is. I know somewhat how you feel and it hurts me even worse to know that you are fucking feeling it. I hate seeing you like this, so drained of the life we all know and love. I wish I could make it come back, Orlando. I wish I could make it all better. I wish I could make it not hurt, or at least pull the hurt onto myself. Because you hurting is not right to me. I wish I could take it all from you, I wish there was some magic word to make it all okay for you." Orlando's shaking in his arms, sobbing again and clutching at his shoulders. Elijah's fingers are digging painfully into his back, but he doesn't care. Everything running into his ears and into his brain makes him feel a little light is flickering, trying to light. He digs in closer to Elijah, wanting to be as close as humanly possible, and cries harder.

"I'll do anything you need me to, Orlando. I'm so fucking touched by everything you've said to me, I'll do anything you need me to. I'll try as hard as I can to be something to bring life to you, back to you. I hate seeing you in pain because it makes me feel hopeless. I'll do anything." His gentle rocking stops and he's pulled back making Orlando look at him. He's shaking and trying to stop crying and Elijah's doing the same thing. "I'll try, I'll try so fucking hard. Anything to make you smile, anything for you."

*falls over*
Okay... that was probably major suckage. But... Sorry.
Feedback is appreciated. *blush*
Constructive, destructive, whatever...
And the next part comes when I have the patience to read this through and then write again! heh... good god.
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