(no subject)

[ismenin]

I'm still laughing! I found this - it was the very first thing I ever wrote. It was supposed to be a Sean/Elijah, but when I was writing it, I found I couldn't do it. I've been laughing so much at the purple prose contained herein, I thought you'd like to share the joke. So here it is.

No beta, because I really, really couldn't ask ladysunrope to do it. She'd cringe with horror, and rightly so.





Barf.


Ama Me Fideliter


Sean Astin sighed deeply, as he looked across at Elijah, who was engaged in intense and animated conversation about today's shoot with Billy. Hands were flying, arms were waving, and Sean thought that his Lij was poetry in motion, just as the song said. Every line of him, every part of him flowed effortlessly to join with the cosmos. Sean had never seen anyone so elemental as Elijah; earth, wind and fire, he was. And water. In the depths of his enormous blue eyes. Deep, uncharted, virgin pools.

Sean laughed at his overblown reaction, and the exaggerated terms in which he thought of Elijah and shifted in his seat, uncomfortable with the thoughts that were raging through his brain. Elijah was not his - he was no-ones love. Neither was he a beautiful maiden from a book, nor a Knight off to the Crusades. He was a young man in the modern world, and Sean was glad these poetic thoughts existed only in his head.

Elijah was an enigma - he gave his kisses to everyone, but his body and heart were his own. He'd shyly confided in Sean that he had never "y'know" with anyone, and wouldn't until he was in love. Kissing and "hands" were all he'd experienced, oh, and somebody's "mouth," (even shyer), but not that.
Sean, the recipient of these whispered confidences, wanted to seize him by the shoulders and kiss him silly, but he didn't. Elijah loved Sean like a brother. He'd told him so, often enough. It was hopeless. Unrequited love existed for maidens in Victorian novellas, not in the lives of heterosexual Huh! Don't GO there! men in today's world.

Sean put down the glass of orange juice he was holding, and picked up his book, Shakespeare's Sonnets. He opened it, because he didn't want to - couldn't bear to - spend any more time gazing at the man in front of him. The New Zealand sunset had turned the white pages blood red. Sean looked up again, to see if the sun had foundd Elijah. It had. His skin shone red and gold in the fading light. He looked like a fey creature from the world of myth and legend, his hair an aureole of fire.

Then the sun passed, and Sean saw that the object of his desire was dressed in a pair of ragged jeans, and a t shirt that looked like it was ready for the rag bag. His hair stood on end, and his feet were dirty and bare. He was a waif, thrown out to survive in a wicked and cruel world. Sean found him enchanting. He could have been wearing a sack, and Sean would have thought him beautiful. Sean found to his discomfort that his jeans were becoming extremely tight around the crotch. Sean's eyes lowered again to the page he had opened, and read.

"An expense of spirit in a waste of shame, is lust in action". Hm. Was it lust he felt for this boy/man? Lust, not love? Sean wondered at what point during the filming of these epic movies agape had morphed into eros, because it was not brotherly love he felt, now, but a deep, painful, all encompassing urge to protect, and to possess.

Sean didn't understand why he felt so - he had never wanted a man before Elijah. But Sean wanted him with an ache that was almost tangible - wanted Elijah with every fibre of his being. Wanted to kiss him breathless; to run his tongue over the lower lip that drew Sean in like a magnet. Wanted to touch him, feel him, bury himself in him. To run his hands and lips over the planes and curves of his beautiful body, to touch the skin that had been likened to "molten alabaster". Wanted to bring him to ecstasy, screaming Sean's name into the night. Wanted to see the tears of love-desire shining for him in those eyes. Wanted. Wanted. Wanted.
What am I doing?, Sean thought, wildly, his body hot with lust. Stop it, Astin!

He rose from his seat, holding the book to screen his arousal, and went inside the trailer - anything to remove himself from the vicinity of temptation. His temptation. Dark haired, fey, and marble skinned, with eyes that burned like flame.
Sean thought a shower - a cold one - might help.

He went into the bathroom, and took off his clothes, turning the water on before stepping in. The shock might do him good. Before he had a chance to climb into the cubicle - "Hey, Sean!" his Nemesis called from outside the door. Sean was very glad that he'd double checked that the door was firmly locked. Twice.
"What'ya doing in there?"
"What do you think, Mr. Frodo - gardening? Puttin' in a few 'taters?" Sean replied trenchantly, in Sam's voice.
A fist banged on the bathroom door. "Wanker!" Elijah yelled, laughing.
If only he knew! Sean almost smiled, Almost - but he was too far gone in need.
"C'mon, Sam, we're going for a Chinese or Vietnamese or something. Orli's paying."
At the sound of Elijah's voice, Sean shifted his hand to the insistent throb in his groin, where his flesh was rock hard, and weeping.
Oh, god, he thought, What can I do? I can't let him see me like this! Sean was a practical man, he knew what he had to do, had known when he shut the door behind himself, so he did it.
Trembling with need, his hand moving wildly on his flesh, frantically flying up and down his burning skin, until all his vision was clouded, and the sounds of Elijah coming through the door became the voice of love.
I love you, Sean, Sean heard through the maelstrom of his thoughts (Lij!) as he came, whimpering inwardly, biting his lip to stop himself screaming his name, the hot liquid flooding violently into his hand.
"...so what d'you think Sean. Is it a good idea? Will Chris let you come?" Sean smiled at the irony.
"Come where, Doodle?" Sean called, a little breathless, and still trembling. He ducked himself quickly under the freezing water, and jumped back, grabbed the towel, and rubbed himself furiously with it. "Weren't you listening, Sean? an aggrieved voice asked from the corridor. "Okay, I'll wait until you come out," Elijah's voice faded as he went back into the seating area.
Sean eventually emerged from the bathroom, damp and eased. He could face Elijah, now there was no visible sign of his arousal.
"There you are," exclaimed Elijah, jumping up from his seat like an articulated pixie, and grabbing Sean's arm, tried to drag him through the trailer door.
"Go where, Lij?" Sean asked, disentangling himself from the grip of the animated one, who was chattering away like a monkey on acid.
Elijah, seeing that Sean would not be rushed, sat down again, idly picking at a loose thread in his jeans. He looked at Sean, anxiously. "Y'know how sad Orli has been since the split up with Sarah?"
"Who could fail to notice a depressed Elf slouching about the place?" smiled Sean, sitting down opposite Elijah, on the settee."Whatcha want to do about it, Doodle?"
Elijah rubbed his hands through his already wild and impossible hair, and looked up at Sean.
Beautiful! He is just beautiful! Sean mused. Oh, god, I'm in Trouble with a very big T!
"Well, I thought we could take him out for a couple of days, y'know, up into the mountains, just the three of us. Y'know how much Orli is into this outdoor stuff. I thought the trip might - um - heal him a bit, Sean. He needs something. I thought we could help."
Sean smiled at the anxious face opposite him.
"Great idea, Lij. When?" Elijah lowered his head.
"Will she let you come, Sean?" he asked, quietly.
Sean turned towards the window, so that Elijah could'nt see his face. "She's gone home, Elijah, remember? It won't matter what she wants."
Elijah realised there was more to it than that, but didn't ask what. Sean would tell him, in his own time, he was sure.
Elijah reached into his pocket for a clove, took it out, then put it back in the packet again. He'd lost his lighter somewhere, again.
Bloody typical! Lij thought. It sounded good - he liked the English curses Dom used, they were so satisfying on the tongue!
"I thought next Tuesday and Wednesday, when we all get time off for equipment maintenance," he said.
Sean leapt up, and, grabbing Elijah's hands, pulled him out of the chair."Fine with me, Ring Boy! Now let's go eat - I'm starving!"

Part 2 - In which the opportunity for the outing comes earlier than they'd thought.

Orli was manic during dinner. He laughed and joked and swore and ate the food off everyone's plate. No one was fooled. Orli was still suffering. You could see it in his eyes. The laughter never quite reached them. Elijah didn't know whether he preferred Orli in depressed mode. At least you could eat dinner in peace, then. Not that Elijah was feeling very hungry.
Billy scooted up to Elijah's on the padded bench.
"He's full of it, tonight, isn't he?" he whispered. Elijah looked at Orli, who was now nibbling Beanie's ear, to the accompaniment of much raucous laughter, and ribald comments from Dom.
"Sean and I are taking him camping next week," he told Billy, putting his fork down on his plate, his meal only half finished.
"Camping?" Billy snorted. "Y' needn't take him away fer that. Look at him!" Orlando was now doing the Dance of the Seven Veils with table napkins stuffed in various places. Dom was beating a rhythm out on the table, whilst Orli whirled about like a Dervish.
Any minute restaurant management were going to come over and plead with the group for a return to sanity.
Sean leaned towards Elijah, whose eyelids were beginning to droop.
"Tired, Lij?" Elijah sighed. "A bit," he murmured. "It's been a heavy week."
"Wanna go home?"Sean asked, softly.
"Yes, please, Sean. I'm wrecked".
"C'mon then, let's get you home."
Sean mused that in an ideal world, Elijah would have picked up on the silent longing in his tone. But this wasn't the ideal, and he was stuck with it.
The ride home was silent. Elijah slept with his head against Sean's shoulder, long eyelashes brushing his pale cheek. Sean had to fight to keep his eyes firmly on the road.
As the car drew in to Elijah's place, he woke up, and smiled dreamily over at Sean.
"Thanks, Sean," he said, sleep flooding his voice. "You are a great friend. I love you for it - for the way you take care of me."
Sean smiled back at him, and brushed his fingers over Elijah's brow.
"Love you, too, Ring Boy. Sleep tight!"
Lij waved wearily at Sean, as he closed his front door.
*****
The next morning, when the Hobbits arrived at the make-up trailer, Peter was waiting for them, outside.
"Sorry I couldn't phone you guys, to save you a journey, but I didn't know myself until I got here"
"Why, what's up, Pete?" asked Dom, sitting down on the trailer step.
Pete sighed, and ran his fingers through the riot of his hair.
"Six of the crew have come down with this virus thing that's been going round. It's impossible to film for a couple of days, so I said they could do equipment maintenance this week, instead of next, if it's all right with you. I've okayed it with the others, already."
Dom squinted into the dawn sun.
" 's ok by me, mate," he said, looking at the other three. "What about you lot?"
The other Hobbits all nodded their heads.
"Ok, Pete!" said a excited Elijah. "Sean, shall we go now - with Orli, I mean? I'll go get him before he buggers off." Dom smiled at the Brit profanity. It sounded strange coming out of Elijah's mouth.
"What about supplies?" Sean, the ever-practical, demurred.
"All sorted," grinned Elijah, high on adrenaline. "At my place - food, sleeping bags, tents, stove, water, fuck - everything!"
Sean shrugged. "Ok, Doodle - go find him!"
Elijah raced across the camp. Sean, putty in his hands, followed in his wake, thinking I'll have to check it all out, of course, in case he's forgotten something vital. I'll make a list!
Billy looked at Dom, Dom looked at Billy.
"Hell, I wish we were going with them, now!" said the Scot, wistfully.
"Well, never mind, old sprout! Let's go and get a second breakfast!" said Dom, putting a friendly arm around Billy's shoulder as they made their way back to the cars.

Part 3. In which they reach the mountains, and make a discovery.

"Well, whose brilliant idea was this, then?" asked Orli, as he stuffed another bag into the back of the huge car Elijah had borrowed for the outing. He could be really organised when the mood took him.
"Mine!" Lij grinned, as he threw the last bag into the vehicle, and practically jumped up and down on the spot with excitement.
"Slow down to a gallop, Doodle," said Sean, anxiously, "you'll be exhausted before we get there."
Orli looked at Elijah, and pushed him towards the car door.
"Sit down, you daft prick - you're as white as a sheet. Have you eaten, yet? Did you have breakfast?"
Sean slid into the driving seat, with Lij beside him. Orli was spread along the back seat like a particularly elegant Persian rug.
"Lij?"Sean fixed his eyes on the figure beside him. "Did ya eat breakfast?"
Elijah pulled his feet onto the seat, and folded himself up like a telescope. "Nope." He shrugged his shoulders. "Too excited, I guess."
Sean steered the car out onto the road, and headed east, as Elijah indicated. Orli snorted over Elijah's shoulder.
"Wanker - we didn't know we were coming, then!" He ruffled Elijah's hair, and offered him a potato chip.
Elijah took it - it was easier to eat it than protest. It tasted like ashes in his mouth, but he swallowed obediently, and directed Sean to turn left.
"When did you plan all this, Lij?" asked Orli, consuming what he called crisps with relish. "Where are we going?"
Elijah swivelled round in his seat, to answer his friend, and was promptly admonished by Sean because his seat belt was too loose. "Ok, Mom!" Elijah grinned back at him.
"I went out with the boys from technical, and they took me to this great place, miles from anywhere, and as beautiful as hell. We're doing some filming there, later this month, they said."
Elijah took a sip from a bottle of water, and pointed his finger to the right. "Turn here, Sean"
"Did your Mom not tell you it's rude to point, Lij?" Sean laughed.
"Fuck you, Sean," Lij grinned back.
After they had been on the road for several hours, it narrowed, and the trees that lined the way leaned in on them. The road was difficult, and winding, and Sean was very grateful they had a good map to follow, and two cell phones, just in case. He'd hate to get lost in this "wide blue yonder" - no-one, he thought, would find their bodies for weeks.
Sean suddenly laughed out loud at his usual concerns surfaced. "What?" said Lij, looking at Sean with a grin on his face. "What?"
"Nothing, - just me, is all!"
What seemed to Orli hours later, Elijah indicated to Sean that he should stop. Sean looked at him. "Are you ok, Lij? You're not gonna hurl, now, are you. You're as pale as chalk. I didn't know you got car sick."
"Nope. I'm ok, thanks," Lij replied, leaping out of the vehicle, "we walk from here, men."
Sean and Orli pulled the stuff from the car, and then Sean parked, carefully, off the road.
"Not that anyone will steal it - even God couldn't find it up here!" he said.
Elijah had finished consulting his notes, and led them to a narrow track that wound up the hillside. It was a truly glorious spot. Orli felt his heart lift as he took in the scenery around him.
"God, this is a beautiful country. I could lose myself out here for weeks on end."
Elijah snorted. "Just keep close to me, or you will. I'm the guy with the map."
He led the way up the hillside, occasionally stopping to adjust the tent and supplies he carried on his back. Sean looked at him and marvelled. He was a small man, like Sean, but he had muscles and sinews. No one could call him skinny, he was...lithe is the word, Sean thought. Like a dancer.
Orli raced up the track ahead of Elijah, and stood drinking in the air, which was warm still, and fragrant. Orli looked back, and saw that he could no longer see the road, and the track was dwindling away to nothing.
"How do we know where we're going, Lij?" he called down.
Elijah shifted the weight of his pack, again. It was getting really heavy, now, and he didn't feel too good. He shrugged it off. Nothing he thought, is going to spoil Orli's break. I'll feel better when we stop.
"Isn't it time for food, Elijah?" puffed Sean from behind him. "I could do with a slice of cold pizza, right now, y'know."
Elijah laughed shakily. "Not far, dude. Ten minutes and we eat".
They crested the hill, and came to a clearing backed by trees. In front of them, the unrestricted view down into the valley was staggering. The river ran like a silver ribbon along the valley floor, and the trees on the sides of the hill were flecked with light. Bushes and shrubs looked to Sean and Orli as if they had been planted there, not dropped by the hand of nature.
It was peaceful, glorious, almost holy. Orlando dropped his gear and walked to the edge of the drop, which was edged with huge rocks, and sat down on one, gazing out into the view.
"Oh, Lij," he breathed, "thank you for this."
"Don't thank me, Thranduilon," said Elijah, digging out the stove and food from a backpack. "God made it - nothing to do with me!"
Orli turned and looked at him. "D'you really believe that, Lij - that God made this?" Elijah filled a pot with water, and put it on the stove.
"Yup," he said, staring intently at the water in the bottle beside him, "Sure as hell man had nothing to do with it."
"What d'you fancy, men?" queried Elijah, sorting out packages. "We have prawn curry, chicken noodles, lamb biryani, and for the vegan, vegetable..."
Sean laughed, stemming the flow. "Just food, man. FOOD! I'm fair gutfoundered."
Orli came over to the stove. "Fair what?" he asked.
"Gutfoundered," Sean replied, grinning. "It means "really hungry"".
Elijah looked up from stirring the pot. "And where did'ya read that, O Learned One?"
Sean put the plates and cutlery onto the rug Orli had spread on the floor. "In a novel somewhere," he said, breaking a french stick into sizeable portions. The smell from the pot was surprisingly appetizing, and the three friends were soon sitting down, dipping the bread into the juices on their plates, and eating hungrily.
Or, at least, two of them were.
Elijah looked at his plate in dismay. I can't! he thought, worriedly. I can't! Oh, god. he dipped in his bread, and swirled it around his plate. The others were too busy eating to notice Elijah's abstinence. He quickly stuffed some of the food into a couple of paper napkins, and wiped his mouth with a third.
Perhaps some water might help he thought. His chest hurt, and his throat had started burning. He drank some water, but it didn't help. Mustn't say anything. It'll go away soon.
Orli and Sean had finished eating, and Sean was wiping his hands on the napkin.
"Finished?" he enquired.
Elijah looked up. "Yes thanks, Sean. It wasn't bad, was it?"
As only a small portion remained on his plate, he thought he'd gotten away with it. Orli rummaged in a bag, and brought out some apples.
"Fruit, campers?" he offered, and Lij shook his head.
"No thanks, Orli, I'm ok." But Sean took one, and bit into it avidly.
"I love the fruit here," he munched, looking over at Orli, who was embarking on his second apple. "It's so sweet."
"God, yes," Orli slurped, and threw the apple stump into the bushes, stating, to Sean's raised eyebrow, that he was merely planting a tree, thus adding even more beauty to his surroundings.
Elijah excused himself, and went into the copse.
He leaned on a tree, his head swimming. Behind him he could hear the sounds of Orli and Sean putting up a tent, and being very vocal about each others lack of talent in that department. He was suddenly violently sick, the brackish water flooding down his t shirt, and over his shoes.
He felt faint. The world was turning.
Fuck, no! he thought, wildly, I can't be sick now!
His stomach was cramped with the pain of vomiting. He was cold. Very cold. He sat down for a moment, as his vision became blurred.
Got to get back he thought, holding onto a tree while the earth tilted around him. He started walking forward to the sound of the voices.
He could no longer see properly, and that was all there was to guide him. Sean will help me, he thought, dizzily, Sean. Must get to Sean.
Sean looked up from the tent peg he was hammering in, as Elijah came out of the trees, and he jumped to his feet in terror.
Elijah looked like a ghost. He was grey, now, not white, and the sweat stood out on his brow in huge droplets.
"God, Lij," croaked Orli, rooted to the spot. "What?..."
Elijah stopped walking, and stood, swaying. Sean moved slowly towards him, unable to speak, not wanting to frighten him by running.
"God! What's wrong with him?" Orli gasped.
"Sean?" Lij's faint voice quavered, and as Sean reached him, and touched him, all his resistance fled. His eyes rolled back in his head, his knees buckled under him, and Sean caught him in his arms as he fell.

4 - In which Elijah gets worse, and Sean panics.


Sean picked Elijah up, and carried him back into the centre of the clearing. The late afternoon sun still shone benignly on them, but the man in Sean's arms was as cold as stone.
Orli rushed to put a sleeping bag down, and Sean laid the unconscious form on it, tenderly.

"Fuck, Sean," said Orli, rubbing Elijah's hand, "what's wrong with him, man?"
Sean looked at the stricken Orli, and bit his lip. One of them had to stay calm - it had to be him.
"Don't know, buddy; might be that virus everyone seems to have gotten."

Sean covered Elijah with another blanket, and smoothed his damp cheek with his trembling hand. Oh, God help him! was his only thought. His mind was a maelstrom of conflicting images, Elijah, his Elijah, dying up here in the wild, was the biggest one, although he wouldn't admit that, even to himself.

"He'll come round in a minute. Calm down, now - y'don't want him to see you looking as if he's..." Sean's voice trailed away to nothing. The dark eyelashes lay motionless on the pale cheek. Sean bent close towards him.

"Lij? Elijah? Answer me, now. You're scaring us!"
Nothing stirred. Sean put his ear to Elijah's mouth to check his breathing. Sean heard a rattling sound deep in Elijah's chest. His heart nearly stopped. "Oh, God!"

Orlando jumped up, and whipped the phone out of his pocket. He held it to his ear, and froze in horror.

"Fuck, Sean," he whispered, "There's no signal!" Sean got up and shakily handed his phone to Orli, who pushed buttons frantically.
"Nothing," he said, looking at Sean with agony in his eyes. "It must be the trees. I'll try somewhere else."

Orli sprinted off, and Sean sank down to kneel at the side of the unconscious boy. He watched his chest rise and fall raggedly. His breathing faltered. Sean frantically tried to remember what they had done for his daughter, Ally, when she had a chest infection.
Prop him up, that's right, Sean thought, and reached for another blanket to place under Elijah's head. No change.

Sean sat on the ground, and pulled Elijah into his lap, cradling his head in his arms. The breathing eased. He looked down at Elijah, lying there so still, so quiet, in his arms, and a tear rolled down Sean's face.
Cirith Ungol. Oh, shit, no! Please!
Elijah's lips parted, and a breath like a sigh from the bottom of his soul came out from between them.
Oh, please!Sean begged, let him be ok!

Orli ran across the clearing.
"Sean," he panted, "where are we?"
Sean looked at Orli in horror. Elijah knew, but Elijah was unconscious in Sean's arms, and couldn't enlighten them.
"Fuck knows!" whispered Sean, realization flooding through him like a cold douche, "because I don't. Look at the map!"
Orli snatched up the crumpled papers from where Elijah had placed them before dinner, and scanned them, hurriedly.


"Somewhere in the region of ...shit! How do you pronounce this?"
He sat down at Sean's side.
"They asked me to check that he's still breathing, Sean."Orli put a hand on Elijah's neck, and looked at Sean.
"He's bloody freezing, man. They don't know if they can get an ambulance up the track, tonight, and it's too late to send a helicopter out. We'll have to hang on 'til tomorrow."

Orlando bowed his head. Neither voiced the agonising possibility that tomorrow might be too late.
"Look, Sean, we can't afford to use the phones unnecessarily, we need them for him. I wanted to ring his Mum. She'd want to know; mine would."

Orli bit his lip, and looked into the lowering sun. It was getting colder, and Elijah's hand felt like a block of ice in his.
"Sean, they said we had to warm him up, if he was cold, somehow, otherwise it could be...dangerous. Can we light a bigger fire here?"

"Don't see why not," Sean replied, glancing over at the trees. "There's plenty of wood over there, and we're not near the trees, or anything combustible. There's no wind, either, to spark off a fire."
Sean sat holding Elijah in his arms, and Orli went back to relay the information he'd gathered to the operator.

The fire was raging, now, casting its heat over the three friends who basked in the glow. The sun had gone, and night was coming in, black winged, hovering above the trees, dark and mysterious. Two of the three were as warm as toast. The third, still silent, was not.

"He's no warmer! In fact, I think he's getting colder!" There was a hint of panic in Sean's voice, now. He drew Elijah closer into him, resting Elijah's head on his shoulder. Sean didn't know if this was the right position for someone in Elijah's state to be in, but he didn't care. His breathing was easier, anyway, so it couldn't be too bad. Suddenly, Elijah stirred in his arms.
"Orli," Sean whispered anxiously, "look!"

Elijah muttered something.
"What, Lij?" Sean asked, gently.
"Let the dogs in, Mom, please," a tiny voice rasped. "It's snowing out there. So cold. Cold." The voice stopped, and Elijah's head fell back onto Sean's chest.
"Orli, we have to warm him up! What can we do?"
Orlando didn't reply for a minute, and Sean thought he was silent because he didn't have an answer.

Orli looked up at Sean.
"Remember the film, "The Outlaw?" Orli asked, looking away from Sean into the fire.
"What the f...!" began Sean, and then realization swept over him. Warm up Elijah as Jane Russell had warmed up Jack Beutel. Climb into bed, and make love to him. Make love to Elijah. His Elijah. His love. No. No! No way!

5. In which a solution is found, and Elijah gets warm.


"No! We can't touch him. It'd be no better than rape! I couldn't live with myself!" Sean unconsciously tightened his grip on Elijah, resting peacefully on Sean's chest.
Sean looked down on him, and, as if Elijah felt Sean's gaze, he shifted slightly, and muttered, "...no, Dom, it's too cold to go..."
He broke off, and became quiet again.
Sean looked at Orli. Orli looked at Sean.

"You want him, don't you, Sean? I can see it in you, man. You want him. Why won't you admit it?"
Sean bowed his head, and smoothed the hair off Elijah's brow.
"Yes, I want him. But I'm not touching him. Now or ever. First, - there are other people to be considered, here - and second, I'm not a fucking rapist, ok?"
Orli could see that Sean was close to breaking. There were tears in his eyes, and the hands that clasped Elijah so comfortingly, were shaking.

"Sean, man - I didn't mean..." Orli stopped. "Can't you even kiss him? Y'know, arouse him a bit. That'll warm him up. You know he's always telling us what hot stuff he is once he gets going!"
Orli smiled for the first time in hours. "I'll do it if you like," he offered.

Sean laughed, shakily, "over my dead..." he stopped and gasped.
"It'll be his dead body, if we don't do something soon," Orlando said in a low voice. "I can't live with that, either."
Suddenly, a thought struck him. "Sean," he gasped, "You need to undo your shirts!"

"What now...? Why?"
"Heat, man - heat." Press your bodies together, y'know. Transfer the heat!"
Sean looked dubious. "Will it work?" he enquired.
"Well," said Orli, leaning over and opening Elijah's shirt, "it can't do any harm, and if you touch him above the waist, your bloody moral code stays intact. C'mon, Sean - buttons."

Orli looked at Elijah's chest, bared to the evening air, and thought of silk, and feather light touches on budding nipples. He sighed. Even in this state, Elijah was a sight to behold. How Sean could resist him, Orli didn't know. His self control was admirable. Orli doubted that being in the same position, he would have the strength to abstain. Even though he didn't love Lij - no, was not in love with Lij - he was still a tasty armful. Who could resist him?

Sean took the end of the blanket Orli was holding around them, and drew it in. He shifted the angle of his body, and pressed the man to his bare chest, resting Elijah's head on his shoulder. A gasp escaped Sean's lips. Orli turned away, and went over to the rocks, and sat down, looking away from them into the night.

Pressed closely against Sean's warm flesh, Elijah's body was as cold as stone. Sean moved his arms so that Elijah was completely enveloped in him. He ran his hands up and down Elijah's back, spreading the heat. Elijah murmured, once, and was silent.
Sean bent his head closer to Elijah's face. He could feel the breath coming through his lips, onto his neck, damp and inviting. He kissed Elijah on the brow, then his eyes, then his cheeks.

Elijah stirred again. "Kiss," he said, breathlessly. "Kiss me!"
His eyes were still shut, and Sean didn't know if Elijah knew who was holding him, who was embracing him.
"Kiss!" Elijah's tone was more urgent , now. "Please, oh ...!"
Sean fell into the enchantment. He kissed him, softly, on the mouth.

Elijah's mouth opened like a flower. His eyes were still closed, but his hand moved to Sean's chest, and stilled there. Sean thought Elijah might taste of vomit and fever, but his mouth was sweet, and soft.
Sean groaned, and moved his lips gently over Elijah's, taking that soft lower lip between his teeth. How he'd longed to do this - how he'd yearned!
Elijah sighed, and moved his arm up to embrace Sean's neck, pulling them closer.
"Love!" Elijah murmured into Sean's willing mouth. "Love me!"

Sean ran the tip of his tongue over that lip, filling his thoughts with its softness and sweetness. Then he slowly pushed his tongue between Elijah's teeth, and moaned with joy at the silken softness hidden there.

Oh, God, all those Victorian novelists had been right! Sean thought.

No amount of words could define the joy Sean felt in this moment. He continued to lave Elijah's mouth with his tongue.
Elijah whimpered quietly, and opened his mouth further, to let Sean ravish him, sweetly, oh, so sweetly. Sean began to feel lightheaded from lack of oxygen, and was overtaken by the thought that Elijah had less breath than he did to spare. He broke the kiss, breathing heavily.

Elijah whimpered, and Sean, after agonizing minutes, answered the unspoken plea, and lowered his mouth again. Time passed. Sean had no idea how long he sat, savouring his treasure, tasting his delight. Stopping to allow Elijah to breathe. Sean had now became worried that Elijah's breathing - which had become ragged again under Sean's oral ministrations - would cause him harm.

He stopped, with an effort that was palpable, and glanced over at Orlando, who was still staring out into the night, or decorously pretending to, anyway.
Elijah's head fell back, again, and he sank, once more, into the depths. Sean looked down at love - still pale, still trembling - but warm at last.
Thank God.

"Orli," called Sean gently across the clearing. "Orli!"
Orlando disengaged himself from the rock, and came over, smiling at Sean enigmatically.
"Well, Samwise - is Mr. Frodo nice and warm, now?" Sean saw no malice in Orli's gaze, only love and concern.

"Yes, he's warm, Orli, and so am I."
"Want me to hold him for a bit, man? I promise not to touch him,- um...oh, shit!- Y'know."
Sean smiled up at his friend; "yes, I know. Come on, then, I could do with a p..." Sean broke off, as Elijah stirred, and put his hand up to his face.

Elijah licked his lips.
"God, he's coming out of it, Sean. We should have thought of this before!" breathed Orli, holding Elijah's hand.
"Lij? Are you in there?" Sean, still holding Elijah to him, looked into his blue eyes, darkened in the faded light.
"Sean?" he said, weakly. "Orli? I'm so thirsty." Orli rushed to get the water, and Sean held it whilst Elijah sipped at the bottle.

"Get an empty bottle, please, Sam," said Elijah, weakly - "Frodo wants to piss!"


Sean 6 - in which Sean makes an interesting discovery, and so does Lijah.



Elijah spent a disturbed night, falling in and out of consciousness, and sweating so much, Sean and Orli despaired of keeping him dry. Eventually they settled for undressing him, wrapping him in their towels, and putting him in a sleeping bag, where he lay, and alternately woke and fell into what might have been sleep or a stupor, all through the night.


Sean left Elijah in Orli's capable hands, as dawn was rising, and went into the trees. Apart from the need to relieve himself, he wanted a minute or two alone. Eventually, he sat down under a tree, and, lowering his head onto his knees, began to sob wildly, his breath coming in short jerks, hurting his throat.
He didn't think Orli, or Elijah, if he was awake, could hear him this far back.

Oh, god, I - we nearly lost him back there, he sobbed.
Sean had noticed that Elijah's breathing, at one point, was getting shallower and shallower, but he wouldn't admit it, even to himself.
For Sean had discovered something about himself last night, that he didn't quite understand.

He had held his beloved in his arms, naked flesh to naked flesh. He had kissed his beautiful mouth, and bitten gently on that lip - the lip that haunted his night-time dreams. He had undressed him, washed the sweat off him, dried his skin with a cloth, and warmed it again with his hands - and felt not a spark of the ravening desire within himself that he had felt in recent weeks.

The thought that he might have trouble concealing from Orli the passionate feelings that surged through him when he saw Lijah laid out before him, naked, like a fallen statue by Praxiteles, needn't have worried Sean. There had been no rock hard erection to conceal, no lustful thoughts to trouble him, no need to dream about burying himself deep in tempting flesh.

Kissing Elijah had been like capturing joy, and had seared through him like fire, and Sean could have wept from the glory of it; but whilst he felt undoubted pressure in his loins, the most intense feelings had been contained in his chest, where love had bloomed for him, like a rose.

That is the difference, now, Astin. Love, not desire. Not merely physical want, but spiritual joining. Worse, far worse than lust. Oh, God!
Sean made sure his face was dry. He couldn't hide the evidence of his tears. It would be obvious to Orli that he had been crying, but Orli would understand that.
Elijah still slept, wrapped in his cocoon, safe for the moment. Soon the emergency services, helped by the morning light, would find them.

Sean walked back into the clearing. and Orli clasped Sean's shoulders in a warm embrace, as he got up from Elijah's side, and picked up the phone, which was ringing. He moved away, but shook the thing as the signal faded.

"Have to go further out, again, Sean." Sean nodded as Orli moved quickly away. Sean studied his love, asleep in his nest.
What about Christine? he thought, wildly, what - shall I tell her? Tell her what? There's nothing to tell.
He shook his head. These thoughts would have to wait until a more convenient time. For now, all that mattered was that Elijah was safe.

Orli came running back into the clearing.
"They're sending a helicopter to locate us, but it won't be able to land nearby. An ambulance is on its way, and should be here within the hour," Orli panted, as he stopped in front of Sean, and looked into his eyes.
"It's ok, now, pal. It's ok!" he said , turning away. His shoulders began to shake, and Sean grabbed him, and drew him into a bear hug.

"You saved him, not me. It was your idea that got him warm. But for that, hell, he might..."
Orli turned anguished eyes on Sean.
"He wouldn't have been here in the first place, if it wasn't for me. Fuck - I've been a self indulgent prick, man! All this moping about over a stupid girl!"
Orli swiped his hand across his streaming eyes. "He would have had medical attention hours ago, if it wasn't for me."

"Orli?" a ragged voice called from the depths of the nest. "Orli? where are you, you wanker! I can hear your voice, but I can't see you.
Two blue eyes appeared over the top of the sleeping bag, and fixed blearily on the men standing there, speechless.
"And where the fuck are Frodo's clothes, Sam?"

The ambulance ride proved uneventful. Elijah succumbed, once more, and Sean was left holding the hand without the saline drip in it, and contemplating the new curses that Orli would invent, following behind the ambulance, alone in their borrowed car.

As they arrived at the hospital, the well-oiled machine swung into motion, and Elijah was whisked off by two doctors and a coterie of nurses, whilst Sean and Orli were left to answer such impossible questions as "what blood group is he? What illnesses has he had? Has he been vaccinated against...? Who is his next of kin?" being posed to them by a senior nurse.

Orli and Sean exchanged glances. Elijah's mother! Hell, they'd have to ring her, straight away!
"Don't panic!" said a doctor, scribbling in his notebook, nearby. "He'll be fine, I'm sure. We've had a dozen cases here, this week, only he has a more severe dose than most I've seen. Ring his Mum - it is his Mum, isn't it - by all means, but tell her he'll be fine."

The doctor smiled at the two bemused friends, and said, "I've a thirteen year old daughter. I know everything there is to know about Elijah Wood, including his shoe size!" and with that, rushed off to follow his colleagues.

Orli and Sean sat down in comfortable chairs, ready to prepare the edited version of events that they would impart to Elijah's mother. Hell, this was a "need to know" situation, and Debbie Wood did not need to know how Sean had warmed her Monkey up!

Sean was shown to a room with a phone, and allowed to ring Debbie, whilst Orli went outside with the other cellphone, and rang Peter and Fran.
Debbie was assured that Elijah had sworn most profanely at Sean only an hour or two before, when he demanded the return of his clothes.
Sean then had to explain to Elijah's mother exactly what had happened to her son's clothing. Debbie managed a weak laugh at this, and was reassured.
Sean promised to ring her every two hours with an update, and went back to join Orli in the waiting area.

The doctor came back. He was smiling, which was good.
"We've sedated him, now - he needs to rest. So do you two, by the looks of it." Sean reached into his pocket.
"Orlando, you go back and fill them all in, and bring us some clean clothes, will ya? I'm staying here until things look up a bit."
Orli took Sean and Elijah's apartment keys off Sean, and kissed him on the cheek.
"Ok, Sam," he said softly, and went off. A passing nurse raised her eyebrows at the doctor. Actors!


7. In which Elijah recovers in hospital.


Sean was sitting by Elijah's bed, reading a book. It wasn't a particularly interesting book. The two books that Sean had brought with him on this ill-fated expedition had gone back, with Orli, in the car.
Sean was stuck with Dr. Ivan Something's "Lecture Notes on Neurology", lent him by a doctor sympathetic to the long, boring hours one could spend sitting beside a hospital bed.

God, I hope I never get that, anyway, thought Sean, cringing, as he read the symptoms of another neurological disaster. His thoughts turned to Elijah, lying fast asleep, in drugged peace, beside him.
What if being so cold has damaged his brain? What if being without liquid for so long has...?
Sean shook himself, mentally. He knew the "What Ifs" were the road to madness. No, he wouldn't go there.

Dom and Viggo erupted through the door, and folded Sean in a double embrace.
"Hell!" said Viggo, looking closely at Sean, "You look like..."
"Don't say, death, Viggo," Sean muttered, softly. "Just don't say it." Sean's eyes turned once more to the bed, and Viggo and Dom went around to the opposite side, to look at Elijah's face, serenely asleep.
"God," Dom murmured, "he looks like an...". He glanced across at Sean, who was looking at Elijah with an expression the two men found hard to fathom. Dom cleared his throat.

"They said he was going to be ok, though, didn't they, Sean? He will be ok, mate - won't he?" Dom sat down in a chair by the wall, and stared intently at Sean.
"That's what they told us outside, Dom," Viggo said, drawing a chair up to Dom's, and flinging an arm around his shoulder. "Fine," was the word the doctor used. In a couple of days he'll be jumping all over us again." Dom stared at the wall.
"Yeah," he said, quietly.

Peter and Fran came in, and Dom and Viggo went out to make room for them. It was not a big room, and Sean was worried about the oxygen uptake of five pairs of lungs, when Elijah's lungs were full of water or stuff.
Eventually, Dom elected to stay with Sean to divide Elijah sitting duties. The doctors had said they could leave him for a couple of hours, as he wasn't going to wake up any time soon. Dom sat with Lijah, whilst Sean went out to ring Debbie Wood with her two hourly update.

Dom stared at Elijah. He was lying on his side, with his free hand curled under his cheek. The skin on his face was like polished, white Carrara marble, and just as pale.
Dom had never had, or desired the opportunity of studying Lijah whilst he slept, and therefore he perused him, now, without fear.

His friend looked so peaceful, lying there; it brought a lump to his throat. Yes, Dom mused, like an angel, finishing the sentence that he wouldn't finish in front of Sean. Too near the truth to be comfortable. He realised that was what Sean had meant, when he told Viggo not to complete his 'like death' remark.

Dom didn't understand what Orli and Sean had suffered up on that mountain, because it was Elijah who had been sick. The only visual evidence that remained of this was a faint purple bruising under the eyes, and the stark paleness of his skin.

Whilst his friends, judging from the state Orli had been in when he'd got back with the news, had been devastated by the events. Orli had bags under his eyes, and had wept copious tears on Viggo's shoulder, and Sean looked as if he hadn't slept in a fortnight.
Only Elijah 's face seemed untouched by the trauma.

Even in extremis, he'd be beautiful, Sean thought, as he came back into the room, checking the occupant of the bed as a matter of course. Dom smiled over at him.
"Still no change, mate," he offered, quietly.
"Go and get something to eat, Dom. It'll be a long night, otherwise."

Dom didn't feel like eating, but realised that he needed his strength if he was going to play Florence Nightingale that night.
Not that Lijah had any need for extra nursing. An inordinate number of staff seem to have found an urgent need to take Elijah's pulse, and flitted in and out of the room like so many sterile butterflies.

A couple of male nurses drifted in to catch a glimpse at him, and smiled reassuringly at Dom .
"Won't be long, now, until he wakes," they invariably said. Dom hoped their words came true - soon.
He went to eat.

Sean returned to his book. "Migraine," he read, reluctantly. Oh, well, better than nothing.
He shifted in his seat, pulling the pillow thoughtfully provided by an older nurse, into the small of his aching back. He'd told her he'd spent hours yesterday, holding Lijah so he could breathe more easily.
She knew what that did to your back.
Kind. These people were kind.

Sean fell into a trance-like state, as he mulled over the events of the previous day.
>Could I have done more for him? Will his mother hold me responsible, when relief gives way, as it so often does, to anger?
Sean's eyes rested on the slight frame in the bed. He realised that the love he felt for this man/child was not rational - but what did rational have to do with love?

Love fell where it will - It didn't ask permission. Sean thought of Mrs Browning - Elizabeth Barrett Browning - poet, and wife of Robert. She knew love. "Love strikes one hour - LOVE!" she's written.
Love had struck him, and struck like a hammer blow to his heart. He would never get over it, didn't want to get over it. It was his, and he clutched it to his chest and savoured it, even though the pain was overwhelming.

He is mine, whether I have him, or no, the thought beat into his brain. No-one can take him from my heart. No-one!
Sean bit his lip, and forced his thoughts elsewhere. Suddenly his reverie was interrupted by a small, shaky voice.

"Sean? Where am I? What...?"
"Shush, now," Sean was on his feet and leaning over Elijah before he'd finished speaking. "You're fine, now. everything's ok, Lij. Ok".
Lij reached up and tried to remove the oxygen mask from his face.

"Leave it, now. It's doing you good." He took Lijah's wandering hand in his own.
"How did I get here? And where is here?"
Sean smiled at the boy, fondly. "Well, it sure as hell wasn't Gwaihir took you off the mountain, this time," Sean said.
Elijah managed a small chuckle, which a bout of coughing stopped dead.

Sean pressed the buzzer by the bed, and a nurse came in, and confirmed to Sean that Elijah was awake, and rushed off to find a doctor.
Sean glanced over at Elijah, who was grinning behind the mask.
"Bright, isn't she?" Sean observed. "How she knew you were awake is beyond me, Medical science is a wonder, and no mistake!"
"Aw, shit, Sean - don't make me laugh. It bloody hurts!"
Elijah shifted his position, wincing as the intravenous needle pulled at his arm.

"Oh, god, I'm dying!" he cried, casting Sean an anguished look. "Sean!"
Sean reassured Elijah with a warm smile.
"No you're not, stoopid. You're just dehydrated. Drink plenty, and that'll soon come out."

The doctor came in, took a few readings, told Elijah (and Sean) to get some rest, permitted the drinking of water, (in moderation), and left, promising to come back in an hour.

"Pass me the water. Sean. This needle's coming out when he comes back - or I'll take it out myself!"
Sean knew that Elijah didn't really mean it.
He hoped that Elijah didn't really mean it!

Continued in next post!! Oh, joy!!!!