This is part of the House Party universe. It’s romantic and foolish and what happens when two actors meet on the set of LOTR.

The House Party is an AU set in the 1920s/1930s. Elijah is an American student and Viggo is an artist. The story tells of how they met and their life together. There are various offshoots to the story.

Full Circle

Elijah had never been one for dreaming – he usually stayed awake until all his supply of bright energy was gone and then slept deeply and efficiently, charging the batteries for the next day.

But since arriving in New Zealand he had found that more and more dreams were encroaching on his sleeping mind. They weren’t disturbing, far from it; rather they were comfortable and comforting, almost familiar in an unfamiliar way.

"Too much drink," had been Dom’s opinion when Elijah, still a little shy around his new companions, had mentioned it. "You’ve gone from drinking piss-poor American beer – and not much of that – to replacing half your blood with alcohol." He had put his arm around Elijah’s shoulders and the conversation had moved on.

But the dreams continued, never disturbing, almost welcome. In fact, when he didn’t dream, he missed them.

He loved New Zealand, and although he sometimes felt a little homesick, he was making new friends, having new experiences, doing things he would never have done at home.

"You seen the new bloke yet?" Dom asked one morning as they sat quietly in Feet. "He arrived yesterday."

"No," Elijah said, still half-asleep and wrapped in the comfort of his dream. "Have you?" He coughed and shifted his position, grimacing slightly.

"You smoke too much," Dom said. "You’ll get ill one day."

"Shut up, you ponce," said Elijah, trying out some of his new English slang. "I’m too young to have a weak chest, so don’t even think about starting."

"Okay?" Sean’s hand on the back of his neck made him look up and smile.

"Sure," he replied. "Why wouldn’t I be? Ready for Weathertop?"

"I’m not the one who has to keep falling over," Sean replied, holding out a hand to help Elijah up.

"I’ve been practicing," Elijah said, accepting Sean’s hand. "I can now fall over without even thinking about it."

"Well that’s certainly what you were doing last night," Dom said, struggling to his feet and following them out of the trailer.

~~**~~

He saw the new Aragorn from a distance, surrounded by a gang of stuntmen who were obviously putting him through his paces. He found himself watching closely; there was something about the way this man moved that was familiar enough to make his brain itch.

"You’re burning holes in his trousers – leggings – thingies." Dom appeared in his line of vision making him blink, surprised.

"Come on," Dom continued. "We’re summoned."

"Okay," Elijah answered, blinking again as he tried to work out his reaction.

"I think I know him," he said, catching up as Dom walked towards the other hobbits. "I must have seen him in something, you know?"

He looked over again, but there was nothing to see, the stuntmen and their pupil had disappeared.

~~**~~

"Elijah!" Peter beckoned him over. "Come and meet Viggo, our Aragorn. We’ll be set up for the shot soon, but I think we’ve got time to say hello."

Elijah made his way over to Peter, who gestured to the man standing next to him. "This is Viggo."

"Hello," Elijah said, holding out his hand. "It’s good to meet you."

"And you, Elijah," replied Viggo, his voice soft and oddly accented. He took Elijah’s hand, holding it a little longer than was necessary, his gaze piercing and direct, and Elijah again felt an odd pang of something that was almost recognition.

~~**~~

After the day’s filming was over and Elijah had gone through the routine of Feet, he stepped out of the trailer and took a huge breath of air, coughing slightly.

"You shouldn’t smoke," said a quiet voice from the shadows and Elijah smiled, not surprised, as Viggo appeared.

"I know," he said. "I’ll stop one day." He reached into his pocket and pulled out his cigarettes. "But not yet."

The smile widened into a grin as Viggo approached him and reached out, taking the cigarettes from his hand, an action that would normally be guaranteed to earn a person a serious glare. Elijah laughed and reached for them, their hands touching, holding for what seemed to be a long time.

"Would you like to go for a drink?" Elijah asked, looking at Viggo’s strange, translucent eyes.

"No," Viggo replied. "I’ll see you tomorrow, Elijah."

Elijah nodded and watched him walk away. It wasn’t until much later than he realised Viggo had waited to see him just to say goodnight.

~~**~~

He dreamed again that night, the images warm and soft, familiar even though he had never seen them before. He could see a figure moving through them now, achingly familiar in the turn of his head and the way he stood, but always just out of reach. Even so, he still woke up warm, wrapped in nameless comfort.

~~**~~

One Sunday afternoon, Elijah woke from a half doze to a knock at the door. Stumbling and skidding over discarded CDs, he half fell to the door.

"Hello," Viggo said, smiling slightly, one eyebrow raised as he took in Elijah’s slightly dishevelled state. "I thought I’d take you up on that offer of a drink."

"Yeah?" Elijah smiled. "Excellent. Let me get my keys…"

"I’ve got my car," Viggo interrupted. "Just don’t forget your door keys."

Nodding, Elijah found them and followed Viggo to his car, brain itching once again as he watched the way Viggo walked, the way his spine moved. Something familiar hovered just out of reach.

"Get in," Viggo said, nodding at the passenger seat. "I’ve found a restaurant I want us to try."

"A restaurant?" Elijah asked. "Thought you wanted to go for a drink."

"I do." Viggo looked over at Elijah. "Not all drinks have to be alcoholic, you know."

"Really?" Elijah feigned innocence. "The things you know."

"I’m very deep," Viggo said.

~~**~~

"Here." Viggo held out the cup. "Drink it."

"The only time anybody drinks hot chocolate is if they’re nine years old and sick," Elijah protested.

"Drink it, monster," said Viggo, and Elijah felt as if the air had been socked out of him.

"Why did you call me that?" he asked his hands moving to take the cup.

"Because it seems to suit you." Viggo lowered his hands and watched as Elijah took a slightly suspicious sip of the drink, before laughing as he watched the reaction. Viggo’s laugh was surprisingly full-bodied and deep, Elijah thought idly, licking his lips.

"That’s fucking – amazing!" he said finally. "Why didn’t my mother force-feed me this stuff when I was little? I would be at least twice as tall as I am now. Or twice the size, anyway." He took another mouthful and let the hot rich liquid run down his throat, sighing in not particularly exaggerated satisfaction. "How did you find this place? You’ve only been in the country about ten minutes."

"Unlike some I don’t spend all my free time drinking," Viggo said. "I want to know something about this country."

"I know something about it," argued Elijah mildly. "I know where most of the bars are." He laughed at Viggo’s expression. "I can’t help it. It’s so strange to suddenly be in a country where I can legally drink. It seems a shame to waste it."

"By the time you get home again you’ll almost be legal there as well," Viggo pointed out.

"Man, that’s a thought," Elijah said slowly. "That’s a lot of years away." He finished off the chocolate and handed the cup to Viggo. "That was really lovely, thank you." He watched as Viggo put the cup back on the table.

"What are you staring at?" Viggo asked finally.

"I know you," Elijah said. "I mean, I know your work, but …" He shook his head. "I don’t know what I mean. But I know you."

"It’s a small world," Viggo said. "Maybe we met before and don’t remember. Maybe we knew each other in a past life."

"Yeah," Elijah said, leaning back in his chair. "That must be it."

~~**~~

"Why do you keep going out with him?" Orlando asked one evening as he sat on the floor of Billy’s apartment, his feet firmly in Elijah’s lap. "He’s a nice enough bloke, don’t get me wrong, but isn’t he a bit – old for you?"

"Bit fucking weird for you as well," Dom added. "Orli’s right, Lij. Nice guy, but off the Monaghan scale of barking madness if you ask me. A definite fifteen out of ten for that one."

"No, he’s a nice guy," Elijah protested, idly tickling Orlando’s ankles. "A bit artistic, I’ll give you that, but underneath the weirdness, he’s a nice guy. Funny."

"Funny peculiar," Orlando muttered, shifting his feet out of the way of Elijah’s questing fingers.

"No, funny ha-ha," Elijah corrected. "If you can’t see it, it’s your loss."

"I like him," Billy pronounced, but he was drunk and so everybody ignored him.

"You fucked him yet?" Dom asked frankly, throwing Elijah another can of beer. "Or if not, do you plan to?"

"No I haven’t," Elijah replied. "But I think he’s wooing me, you know? Drinks and walks and long evenings talking on the phone." He giggled and then put his hand over his mouth, appalled at the sound. "I like it."

"What do you talk about?" Billy asked, but Elijah shook his head, not willing to say anything else.

"Oy." Dominic prodded him rather painfully. "We talk about our conquests, it’s the rules, remember? Don’t go getting all coy on us."

"I’m not," Elijah protested. "There’s nothing to tell … leave it, guys. Please."

"Don’t you want to talk about him?" Orlando asked, nodding sagely when Elijah shook his head. "Must be love."

~~**~~

He had another dream that night. He was wrapped in somebody’s arms, almost smothered in them, being held so tightly he could hardly breathe, and it felt wonderful. He felt protected and safe and deeply loved. He could feel a hand stroking gently through his hair, almost hear the voice whispering his name, and even though he knew he was asleep he tried to move, tried to pull back so that he could see the face of this person who held him so close. He would know them if he could just see their face…

The ringing of the telephone startled him awake, and he lay for a second, staring wide-eyed into the darkness, before rolling onto his side and fumbling for the handset.

"Hello, monster." Viggo’s voice was soft and smiling, and Elijah closed his eyes again, curling himself around the telephone.

"Hello," he said. "Why aren’t you asleep?"

"I was thinking about you," Viggo replied. "I wanted to talk to you. Were you asleep?"

"Mmm," Elijah said. "I was dreaming again."

"The usual?"

"Kind of," Elijah admitted. "But not quite. I’m so close to seeing him, Viggo, seeing who it is. It’s so frustrating. I feel as if he’s always just ahead of me, as if he’s just left the room when I walk in."

"Your dream lover?" Viggo laughed softly. "I hope for your sake that he isn’t some monstrously deformed creature."

"I wouldn’t care if he was," Elijah replied seriously. "He makes my dream self very happy, and that’s what counts."

"Don’t you want beauty? A beauty like you should seek out beauty," Viggo said. "Reach for the stars, Elijah. Even if you don’t quite manage it, you’ll still soar higher than most of us."

"It would be lonely," Elijah said. "Don’t you think?"

"Not if somebody was there with you."

"Do you think that’s what he is? My lover?" Elijah shifted, smiling. "He looks so familiar to me! Do you think I did know him before? Do you believe in reincarnation?"

"You can’t disprove it," Viggo said simply. "So why not? What if you met somebody you loved, somebody you wanted to be with forever? How unhappy you would be to think that one life is all the time you would have."

"And do you think I would recognise him if I saw him in this life?" Elijah asked slightly wistfully. "It would be a horrible thing to miss each other."

"I think you’d find him," Viggo said.

~~**~~

"You paint light," Elijah said, leafing through Viggo’s rough sketches. "Things have some kind of sheen when you draw them."

"Only in the last few weeks," Viggo replied, but didn’t explain further.

~~**~~

"At last, a whole week off!" Elijah positively crowed as he made his way to the trailer.

"What shall we do with it?" Billy asked. "Dom and I were thinking of driving into the hinterland – interior – country –."

"But then we decided to go surfing because we don’t know what the countrified stuff is called," Dom interrupted. "Orli’s coming with us, Sean’s got wife and kidlet." He flung his arm across Elijah’s shoulders. "What do you say, small person? Coming with us?"

"Tempting as it is to be ritually humiliated by the ocean, I think I’ll pass," Elijah said. "Thanks though, guys. I plan to sleep for at least two days and then see what happens."

"Viggo?"

"He may happen," Elijah said.

"Shut up," Billy said, nudging Dom. "Not allowed to talk about him, remember?"

Dom looked at Elijah and for a second his eyes looked different; older and infinitely wiser, but then the moment was gone, and he was just Dom again, and Elijah smiled and agreed to go for a drink that night to celebrate their freedom.

~~**~~

"I was hoping you’d come," Viggo said as he opened the door. Elijah, strangely calm, just smiled.

"Where else would I go?" he asked. "We have a week."

"Have we been waiting for this?" Viggo asked. "Waiting for time to be together rather than grasping stolen moments?" He opened his arms and Elijah, with a sigh of utter contentment, walked into the embrace.

The second he was pressed against Viggo, he relaxed, aware of the slight change in breathing and balance in the body he was holding, knowing what it meant.

"It must be because I’ve spent so much time shooting with you," he said, his face muffled against Viggo’s shoulder. "You feel so comfortable." He inhaled deeply, the smell of paint and turpentine bringing to mind long hot days full of sunshine and comfort and love.

"You belong here," Viggo’s voice was little more than a rumble. "I feel as if I’ve been waiting for you for a long time. Marking the days until you came."

"I’m here now," Elijah said, raising his head. "So I think you should kiss me, and I think we should get off your porch."

Viggo pulled him inside and closed the door and then held himself still, hands in Elijah’s hair. "I prefer it without all the wax and gel," he said. "I liked it when it was longer."

"It’s never been long," Elijah said, pushing into the touch.

"Hasn’t it? I thought it had." Viggo lowered his head and his lips just brushed Elijah’s, making both of them startle at the sheer familiarity of it and they both froze briefly before pressing forward, both of them reaching for the kiss.

"I’ve been waiting for this," Elijah whispered, his hands roaming Viggo’s back. "So long."

"It’s over now," Viggo said. "No more waiting for either of us."

~~**~~

Later, curled comfortably against Viggo, head resting on his shoulder, one leg hooked across his hips, Elijah smiled, sated and content.

"What are you laughing at?" Viggo asked, his fingers working slowly through Elijah’s hair, now free of all chemicals.

Elijah pulled back and looked up, the breath catching in his throat as he realised that this was what he had been trying to do in his dream.

"What?" Viggo asked.

"No," Elijah said, settling down again. "Nothing. Just a weird idea." He closed his eyes, letting Viggo’s steady breathing lull him to sleep.

He didn’t dream.

The End

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