Title: "Reflection" Pairing: Orlando Bloom/Viggo Mortensen Rating: PG Summary: Orlando remembers. Disclaimer: So not reality, folks. Later, Orlando would have plenty of time to wonder whether he'd been fascinated with the idea of Viggo or the man himself. He could no longer be certain, and, in any case, the reflection of what he thought then and what he thought now didn't take away from what was. Memory had nothing on truth. Orlando had believed, and so it had been. Simple as that. Certainly that time would go down as one of the best of his life -- long days of filming, prep work, camaraderie shared, longer nights at the pub, overlapping conversations, Christmas break with Viggo at his house, dreams of Elves and Hobbits during sleep, cigar-flavored kisses, archery lessons on green fields, lazy sex on freshly washed cotton sheets, early morning wake-up calls, sticky glue on sweaty ears, stolen kisses in between takes, location work, friendships created and formed, love given and received -- all of it jumbled together, snatches of perfection, traces of memory. All of it so beautiful and painful and vivid. Fleeting happiness captured like fireflies and released carelessly to fly away. All it ever took was a whisper on the wind, a faint whiff of sandalwood -- and Orlando would be thrown right back to those days, seeing everything in crystalline purity. Would hear that soft voice, feel strong arms close around him, taste the almost bitter tang of desire in a kiss, smell the air, ripe with possibilities -- for a few handfuls of months, a few brief, shining months, Orlando had allowed himself to be truly happy. But all good things must end. If you enjoyed this fic, please leave feedback here. Thanks!