Adult-FanFiction.org : Lord of the Rings

Reflections in Blood	By : JulieDoc Category: Lord of the Rings Movies > General > Lord of the Ring Stars Views: 2338 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: This is work of fiction! I do not know the celebrity(ies) I am writing about, and I do not profit from these writings.

Chapter List
- 7
- 8
- 9
Sorry I haven�t updated in a while. I�m working on a borrowed computer and desperately in search of a job, so my time to do this is limited.
Glamis: Thank you much for your comments. Viggorli gets a bit boring to me, too, at times. I�m happy you find my work original, though. I�m sorry, but I actually don�t have the end . . . you can expect this to go on for quite a long time yet. So glad you are enjoying Alan. I have always been a bit worried about using actors that are outside the LOTR cast for this story, afraid that someone might say "oh, what the heck is HE doing here?" The idea came to me when someone was discussing their fantasy cast for Prisoner of Azkaban, and thought Viggo would be great for Sirius Black, even though it would never happen. I replied that I liked the idea of Sean Bean as Lupin, and this story was pretty much born then.
Ava: There will be more VampireHugo stuff soon. Very soon. I just hope you don�t mind me pairing him with Ian. Some people get rather peeved when one shows older people in sexual situations.
Marionette: Thanks for reading! The story has no end yet, but I am back on track after a long absence.
Lysan: I�m so pleased you�re enjoying the story. As far as I know, since this story was started way back in late �01, early �02, that I am one of the first people to write this kind of AU. I hope to continue to surprise, to enlarge my little magical world, and to be entertaining and original.
Chapter rated R for language, probably.
Warnings: AAAAAANGST (man, is there ever!), h/c. Oh, and the "wet dog, werewolf" wisecrack was actually written in �01 or �02, way before Van Helsing.
Reviews: Please :).
7a. Voices in the Night: Viggo and Sean

"If you woke up from your sleep,

Blood on your hands,

Would you wash the pain away?

No one understands.

There must be someone out there who can help you breathe again.

Would it ever be enough?"

-Def Leppard, "Where Does Love Go When It Dies?"
Viggo stroked a hand absently down Sean's back, feeling the wolf shiver with the touch. He threw an arm over the narrow shoulders. "This explains a lot," he offered, lamely.

Creates more questions than it answers, Vig. I don't want to be a monster.

"And you're not." Viggo was surprised by the truth of his own statement. He expected more fear from himself for this, but he wasn't afraid, at least, not for himself. The body was starting to matter less and less; Sean's thoughts were still Sean's thoughts, even though he was denied a human voice. In this form, he was really less frightening than he had been when he was human and waiting for the wolf to emerge. "Can you stand up?"
It seemed an extremely incongruous question, but Sean answered it nevertheless. I don�t think I can stand on the bed. Maybe on the floor. Why?

"You need to look at yourself. Do you think you can walk?"
Give me a second, Sean sighed, unwilling to abandon the gentle stroking of Viggo�s fingers, which felt as familiar as air. He turned his head to lick the back of his friend�s hand, almost laughing to himself. There were certain liberties he could take in this form.
"What was that?"

A thank you.

"Oh, not a kiss, then?" Viggo�s tone made it impossible for Sean to tell if he was joking, even with his sharpened hearing. Viggo�s hand moved to the thow{ fur just over Sean�s throat, ruffling it.

Mmm, that�s nice.

"If you were a cat, I think you�d purr. Hedonist," Viggo chuckled. "Do you see? You�re not dangerous."
Sean cocked his head at Viggo, reminding him, ridiculously, of one of his dogs. I�m sorry . . . it�s just . . . you�re the only familiar thing in this room. Aside from that, you take away the pain, and I don�t know why. I�m glad you�re with me.

Viggo chuckled. "Okay, �Frodo�. Come on." He got up off the bed, started toward the bathroom. "Don�t make me whistle for you."

Thus speaks Chirpy the Bird-Man.
Viggo laughed, explosive, nervous. "What the what? Oh . . . oh, yeah." It had been a while back when he had done an art flick, The Passion of Darkly Noon, in which his character was mute, and communicated chiefly by whistling. "You actually watched that thing? You must have missed me a Hell of a lot."

It was interesting,, fu, fuck! Sean swore as he crawled off the bed, sore paws impacting with the floor harshly. I thought your character was fairly charming. Aside from the temper, he actually reminded me a lot of you.
"You have a weird sense of �charming�, if you watched that. I would hardly call me dry-humping Ashley Judd all over a house in the middle of nowhere �charming�."
Sean hadn�t even been thinking of that scene. He felt himself bristle. Viggo against the doorjamb, on the couch, the bed, the kitchen table, knocking aside the overhanging lamp, throwing himself into the kisses, broad hands stroking everything within reach, it really didn�t matter who he was with. The desire was coming back, but he fought it back down; no, it wouldn�t do. As he kept it hidden, Sean simply tilted his head to the side again. No, I wouldn�t call that charming. Erotic beyond description is what he would call it, and he prayed that Viggo wouldn�t ask what he�d thought.
The fates were with him. Viggo simply gestured him forward, clicking on the light. There was a chair in the bathroom, and Viggo dragged it in front of the sink and the mirror. It was too small for Sean to actually sit on, so he rested his front paws on the counter and looked at the mirror. He was almost afraid to see.
He was able to see in color, as he�d learned when he�d transformed, and the harsh light was actually a little punishing to eyes better suited for darkness. He was as big as a tiger, if he had to gauge his size. This alone made him afraid the chair would break, and, as it was, it was creaking precariously. He recognized his own eyes, almost human eyes in the animal�s face that stared back at him. His wolf form was arrayed for winter, fur long and thick, and soft-looking. The main shade of his coat was a tawny color, and the white started right beneath his eyes, covering his whole muzzle, bleaching half of the ruff that started at his cheeks and ran down his neck. Somehow, the thought that his throat was white disturbed him; it felt like a target. Viggo apparently thought otherwise. "You make a beautiful wolf."

Thanks. There was no enthusiasm at all behind that thought. He might make a magnificent specimen of an animal, but this didn�t feel like his body. Despite Viggo�s presence, he�d never felt more alone. He felt like the only one of his kind, and the loneliness of it pulled at his heart. There�s something I need to do. He leaped from the chair, knocking it aside. He trotted through the suite over to the sliding doorst clt closed the balcony off from the rest of the room. Open these up, would you, Vig?

"You�re not going to jump, are you?"
Sean looked over his shoulder. It hadn�t crossed my mind, but now that you mention

it . . .

Viggo slid the door aside warily; Sean�s mind-voice hadn�t contained any teasing when the werewolf had answered him.
Sean padded out onto the ledge, the cacophony from the cars below stinging his sensitive ears. The city smelled of exhaust and food wafting upward from restaurants, and the riotous scent of human bodies permeated it all. Uh, Sean shut his eyes, wincing. I never realized how much cities stink.

"I have. This makes me miss Idaho." Viggo�s hand fell on the back of Sean�s neck, his fingers lightly rubbing his skin. His affection was more than to calm Sean, it was so he could grab Sean easily if he did decide to jump. Viggo really thought that Sean could probably take him over too, but it was worth the risk.
Sean only walked a little closer to the rail and sat. The pain, the confusion, the loneliness tore through him, sharper than the transformation itself had. There were tears on the wolf�s cheeks as he tilted back his head and howled.
It was like the call of every wolf that Viggo had ever heard in films or recordings, but more intense than any of them. Viggo thought it was more like singing, Sean crying his anguish to the night sky. It was a long, low, eerie note, chilling, but filled with the deepest sorrow. The sound lifted in pitch slightly, unwavering and icily clear in the cold air. It was spellbinding, beautiful, and every second of it broke V�s h�s heart. When Sean finally shut his mouth and let the note diee poe poet was also crying.
"Oh, Sean, I�m sorry." He knelt down, protected little by his clothing from the frigid December air, and held his friend close.

There�s nothing to apologize for. I should be sorry. Sean instinctively turned his back to the direction of the wind, sheltering Viggo from it.
"Why?"

For needing you so much. Sean�s thought had more behind it than simple need, and he was unsure whether he wanted Viggo to know that. He rested his chin on Viggo�s shoulder. Every evil smell created by the city was drowned out by the sweet, wild, delicious scent of Viggo�s body. His assaulted ears focused on his friend�s soft breathing, the quiet thudding of his heart. Sean felt warmth through his fur, but also trembling, despite his best efforts to shield the man. You�re cold, Viggo. Let�s go back in.

"Thank you." Viggo stood.
Sean followed suit, and his shoulder brushed against Viggo�s waist as his still-human companion closed the door. He backed up, watched as the blue-eyed man rubbed his arms absently to warm them. Suddenly, the sight of Viggo came to him as sharply as any of the forest in his dream, moie fre from the air flecking the light brown hair, thoothooth line of Viggo�s back beneath his shirt, the fluid, clever way his fingers moved. Sean wanted to wrap his arms around that familiar form and cry until he was empty.
In order to do that, he�d have to do that thing he feared most to do: change back. It wasn�t that this form was becoming comfortable, it was simply that the pain was incredible. It didn�t take Sean long to realize that what he needed from Viggo, that closeness that only a human body could provide for him, took precedent over any physical torment. He felt Viggo turn to look at him as he closed his eyes to concentrate.
In his mind�s eye, he saw the wolf again, and it was unlike himself, seeming to be made of silver energy that flowed like fire. Sean looked it in its blazing gold eyes and screwed up his courage. Go, I need my body back. The wolf-spirit snorted, seeming to wait for different words, and when none came, it trotted away from Sean.
The werewolf felt as ifethiething was being ripped out of his body, and with a breathless gasp, his legs crumpled from beneath him. He vaguely heard Viggo calling his name, until it crackled and died, a radio frequency just out of reach. Sean tried to relax his body as Ian had advised him, waiting for the pain that was to come. A burning began deep in his bones, but they did not feel as if they were twisting into the new shapes now, it was more the pain after a long period of exercise. Then, the burning changed to cold as his fur seemed to evaporate, stinging slightly. There was pain, but it was more like mng, ng, floating like mercury on water. The wolf seemed to spit him out suddenly. Sean�s shivering golden body seemed to spill out onto the floor.
Sean stood, shaking violently, looking at the hands that were no longer paws. Tiny droplets of sweat covered Sean from head to toe, and much of it was streaked with blood. Sean didn�t seem to notice that he was hurt, and wrapped trembling arms around his friend in a surprisingly strong embrace.
Viggo carefully slid his arms around Sean. "Jesus . . ." his fingers were streaked with blood and sweat as he let Sean go. "You're hurt, you're sweating blood." The stress to his body from the change must have caused it.
Sean was horrified when he broke from Viggo, looking intently at his fingers again, at the crimson moisture he'd missed in his relief at beinman man again. He broke into a run to the bathroom, moving impossibly fast, and Viggo ran after him. The artist found Sean hunched under the shower spray, face in his hands, blood and salt streaming away off that perfect skin. The shivering was even more violent now, and Sean was weeping openly, though his sobs were quiet.
Not caring tha was was still dressed, Viggo climbed into the shower with Sean, leaning over the curled form, rubbing his friend's bare back. Sean moaned softly, but did not growl or push him away. The wolf in Sean seemed to have left completely, and now there was only the destroyed man, naked and vulnerable. Viggo pulled up, dropping light kisses on the top of Sean's head, hand lightly running over the curve of his spine. He wanted only to comfort his friend, but Sean still looked, felt like an awful temptation, which Viggo pushed from his mind. He intended to let Sean cimseimself into exhaustion if it was necessary, and to be there as long as Sean needed him. They sat, an entwined mass of sodden hair and flesh and fabric, beneath the burning rain of water.
Shuddering, Sean pulled himself up to his knees and embraced Viggo again, warm tears mingling with the hot water flowing into the older man's hair. He cried Viggo's name, mumbling softly into his neck. Despite the warm, reassuring touches on his back, he continued to sob, tears burning his skin, which had miraculously std bld bleeding. "Viggo, I don't know what to do."
"Shh. I know you don't. It's all right. I'm here with you."
Sean scrambled to his feet, slid up against Viggo, pulling the other man to standing. Choking, he buried his face in Viggo's jacket, his head against one shoulder. He heard Viggo's ragged breathing against the side of his neck, could have sworn he felt Viggo turn his head a little to drop a light, chaste kiss there. He dismissed it as a pipe dream, sighing painfully. "I feel so alone."
"Take me with you, then, Sean. I'll go." Viggo let go of Sean, and stood a little distance away, arms spread only a little from his sides, as if displaying himself. Hesitantly, he offered Sean his hand, but he opened his fingers with a little more confidence, palm out.
Sean knew what Viggo wanted him to do: to bite him, change him. The love he felt, the respect that welled in him at the self-sacrificing gesture threatened to stop his heart. "Viggo, I can't. I can't subject you to this. I wouldn't wish this on anyone, least of all you."
"Then let me stay with you, for as long as you need me ."
"Won't ever stop needing you."
Viggo saw something golden gleam in Sean's eyes, and then Sean's lips were fused to his. He wanted to push Sean away, to tell Sean that this was just pent-up emotion. He had never wanted to take advantage of such a stat Sea Sean, but, to be honest, he never thought he'd be afforded such a ripe opportunity to do so. So, Viggo stayed inside that moment, responding passionately once the initial shock had worn off. Humming with pleasure, he received Sean's tongue as it drilled deep into his mouth, twining his own around it.
Sean's eyes snapped open in surprise, bright amber flecks glittering in the stormy green, then he shut them again, still unable to stop the tears. Viggo pulled back away from him for air, only to capture Sean's mouth again, tasting salt. Sean took the next break, gasping, then desperately placing silky kisses anywhere he could reach, Viggo's eyelids, his neck, his mouth, a flurry of seeking lips and heated water.
"I'm sorry," Sean began, between breaths. "It's just, I've loved you for almost a year," he caught Viggo's bottom lip, thoroughly wetting it with his tongue. "I want you more every time I see you, and my new . . . condition isn't helping at all." He trapped Viggo's mouth with his own quickly before they broke again.
- 7
- 8
- 9
You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.
Report Story

Reflections in Blood