“Vig, we’re lost!” Orlando had repeated the phrase at least ten times now, sounding somewhere between petulant and horrified.
“Calm down, Lando. This is not ‘Blairwitch Project’!” But if Viggo had to be completely honest with himself, this little outing had stopped being fun an hour ago. He could barely make out Orlando beside him, but he could feel the vicelike grip the younger man had on his hand sure enough. He headed into the direction he assumed their car was, or at least a road. At this point he’d gladly take a gingerbread house, complete with witch and all.
However, all they found was a little clearing, thankfully a bit lighter than the oppressing dark of the woods. Orlando was to his right, eyes wide, still clutching Viggo’s hand, literally trying to creep into his skin.
Suddenly, Orlando gave a suprised yelp, which was followed by the sound of a sword being unsheathed. Viggo sought the origin of the sound and seriously considered never drinking a drop of alcohol again.
“Lando, you see what I see?” he whispered.
“If you see an elf and a ranger at the edge of the clearing, then yes,” Orlando answered, seriously shaken.
It looked like a Mexican standoff: Orlando, huddled against a flustered Viggo on one side of the clearing and a ranger stepping in front of his elf with his sword drawn on the other. Viggo raised his hands in the worldwide gesture of peace and slowly stepped back into the trees. In the darkness of the woods, both men could see the two in the clearing talking quietly, sharing a quick kiss and retreating.
Orlando nudged Viggo, wearing a smug grin the older man could hardly see in the darkness. “I always told you Aragorn and Legolas were getting it on!”
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“Calm down, Lando. This is not ‘Blairwitch Project’!” But if Viggo had to be completely honest with himself, this little outing had stopped being fun an hour ago. He could barely make out Orlando beside him, but he could feel the vicelike grip the younger man had on his hand sure enough. He headed into the direction he assumed their car was, or at least a road. At this point he’d gladly take a gingerbread house, complete with witch and all.
However, all they found was a little clearing, thankfully a bit lighter than the oppressing dark of the woods. Orlando was to his right, eyes wide, still clutching Viggo’s hand, literally trying to creep into his skin.
Suddenly, Orlando gave a suprised yelp, which was followed by the sound of a sword being unsheathed. Viggo sought the origin of the sound and seriously considered never drinking a drop of alcohol again.
“Lando, you see what I see?” he whispered.
“If you see an elf and a ranger at the edge of the clearing, then yes,” Orlando answered, seriously shaken.
It looked like a Mexican standoff: Orlando, huddled against a flustered Viggo on one side of the clearing and a ranger stepping in front of his elf with his sword drawn on the other. Viggo raised his hands in the worldwide gesture of peace and slowly stepped back into the trees. In the darkness of the woods, both men could see the two in the clearing talking quietly, sharing a quick kiss and retreating.
Orlando nudged Viggo, wearing a smug grin the older man could hardly see in the darkness. “I always told you Aragorn and Legolas were getting it on!”