Chapter 4 - Carolyn's POV

Carolyn took the proffered hand, shaking it one in the style of French acquaintances before introducing herself. In French. It seemed to take the men aback slightly, as if they had expected some other beginning, some other introduction. She gestured them to the seats around the small table and took her own place at the board, writing what she had just said. She turned to them again, finding them settled and attentive. She repeated her introduction and asked them their names, guiding them through the responses.

At first, Carolyn had to concentrate on keeping her professional demeanor intact, not wanting to seem like one of the screaming fans who so often pursued the two. She felt like screaming. Her two favorite actors, the ones she indulged in hopeless fantasies about, were sitting in her classroom, at her table, learning French from her. As the first lesson continued on track, though, she was finally able to relax a little. They knew nothing of her secret fantasies and would never find out about them. They were just two men who needed a service she could offer. They acted just like her other students. As they practiced introducing themselves, and each other, giving names, nationalities, professions, and what languages they spoke, the tension eased, and Carolyn was able to view them almost objectively. Almost. Because she couldn't quite forget who they were, even if she was able to smile more naturally.

Viggo was certainly quicker to pick up the language than Orlando, but that was not surprising given that he already spoke Spanish fluently. Orlando was managing credibly, though. Carolyn suppressed a smile at the teasing competition between them. She didn't encourage it. That would be unprofessional, but she certainly didn't discourage it either. Not when it was so obviously pushing them both to work hard at understanding and memorizing the phrases she was teaching them. Hearing their voices, so well known to her from their movies, struggling but succeeding in forming the sounds of the language she loved so well sent chills down her spine, especially when they finally mastered a phrase. She varied the order of questions from time to time, trying to make sure they were understanding, and not simply memorizing lines. When they could answer her questions correctly, she had them ask her the questions, and then ask each other. The latter was the most fun, as they tried to trick each other into giving the wrong answer. Finally, she smiled, stopped them, and said, "Do it as a skit this time. Imagine you're meeting for the first time."

"So you do speak English," Orlando commented with a smile.

"Of course," Carolyn replied, studiously ignoring the fluttering in her stomach that had returned with that megawatt smile. "Just not very often in class. Allez. On joue," she added, gesturing for them to begin. It was an activity she did with every class, often several times, to practice the basic introductions that were such a part of any social gathering, but she had never seen it done quite this way. Orlando and Viggo went to opposite corners of the room, before pretending to mill about in a mass of people, shaking hands with the invisible guests at a party. Carolyn could all but see the others. Then they turned to each other, shaking hands correctly as they introduced themselves and ad libbed a scene. If she hadn't known better, Carolyn would have had no trouble believing that they were two strangers meeting for the first time. They ran through the French phrases smoothly, never even glancing at the board like so many of her students had to do. As she continued to watch, she thought she caught an interesting undercurrent in the exchange. These weren't just two strangers meeting. These were two strangers experiencing a new and mutual attraction. The thought of these two incredibly sexy men together sent an erotic thrill though her. Not that she believed it could ever happen, but she realized she would give quite a bit to see such a sight.

"Magnifique," she praised them when they finished, speaking of both the language and the acting. Still feeling a little warm, she turned back to the board to erase it for the next step when Viggo spoke.

"Let's try it once more, with you at the party as well."

"D'accord," she agreed. The more practice they got, the better they would learn, after all.

They returned to their respective corners. Then, as if someone had said "Action!" they began circulating through the room, meeting people, shaking hands. Carolyn mirrored their actions, working her way toward Viggo. He seemed less of a threat to her composure than Orlando. He was no less handsome; he just seemed more in control of his charm. She believed that until she shook his hand and he turned the full force of his smile on her. "Bonjour, mademoiselle," he said in a husky voice, little more than a whisper. Carolyn caught herself leaning closer to hear him.

"Bonjour," she remembered to reply. She let him lead the conversation. It was better for him to do so anyway, but she wasn't sure she could have done differently. She felt trapped in his diamond blue gaze. She was thankful she'd worn a suit that day. Hopefully, the jacket hid the effect his voice and gaze were having on her nipples. Then Orlando appeared, commanding her attention, shaking her hand correctly, but standing much to close for neutral interest. The situation went from hot to hotter. Viggo's approach had been subtle, though the attraction he had been portraying was clear. Orlando didn't even pretend to be subtle as he introduced himself, openly staring at first her face, then her body. His approval was obvious in the tone of his voice when he uttered the formulaic "Enchanté" in response to her introduction. Carolyn had to remind herself that these were actors, used to portraying whatever emotion seemed appropriate for a given scene. Modesty aside, she knew she was reasonably attractive. If she had met either of them in a social setting, she would have expected at least some acknowledgement of her charms. She just wasn't used to dealing with it in class. With students. When she couldn't quite decide if it was real or feigned. She glanced desperately at the clock. It was time. The lesson was over.

"Très bien," she said in her best teacher voice, breaking character and the spell Viggo and Orlando had cast. "I will see you both Thursday at 4, at your place."

When they nodded in agreement, she smiled and said, "Au revoir," her tone clearly a dismissal. She turned and erased the board slowly, waiting until they left to let out a sigh of relief. She collapsed in her chair and made a mental note to put clear guidelines on any future scenarios. She couldn't deal with any more like today's! Not if she wanted to stay sane. She was gathering her composure to report to Joan when Orlando reappeared in the door.

"Forgot my pen," he said with a sheepish grin. He grabbed the errant pen and left again, flashing her another, knee-weakening smile on his way out. Carolyn sighed at the fresh surge of lust. She supposed he couldn't help being attractive, but they both should have come with warning labels.


Chapter 5 - Viggo's POV

Viggo shook Carolyn’s hand, paying close attention to her body language.  He didn’t know if she was already in full European mode or not, but he was aware enough of cultural morays to know that he and Orlando had more to learn than just the language if they were going to portray people at home in France.  The director of Universal Language had assured the studio that her instructor could teach them all they needed to know.  Up. Down. One time. Viggo stored that away for future reference, noting at the same time the firm grip and soft skin.  He appreciated the softness of feminine hands. Just as he appreciated the strength of masculine ones.  He was surprised when she started speaking French immediately. He’d expected her to introduce herself and talk a little about her plans and their interests before beginning the lesson.  Just so everyone would know what to expect.  He was flexible, though.  When she gestured for them to sit and went to the board, he switched to student mode, his focus on what she was saying and how. The rhythm, the tone, the intonation. Everything that went into speaking a language.  He repeated her words in his mind and aloud, committing them to memory.  Years of acting had given him an impressive, if not photographic, memory.  Name, profession, nationality, languages.  It was not so very different from Spanish, he realized.  Beside him, Orlando was taking diligent notes.  Though his memory was good as well, he always doubted himself, preferring to reinforce what he was learning by writing. Handwritten copies of his scripts were forever littering their house.

Viggo could see Carolyn relaxing as the lesson continued.  From the first, she was generous with her praise, but genuine warmth crept into her voice as she became more at ease. Viggo wondered in passing if she was nervous at the beginning of every new course, or if he and Orlando had made her nervous.  It happened when they dealt with people who weren’t used to being around celebrities, people who needed a little time to realize that they were just ordinary men who had a talent that put them in the public eye. Viggo had never considered his talents any different than those of people less famous.  Carolyn spoke four real languages, unlike his fourth, Elvish, which didn’t really count.  Though the talent didn’t make her a celebrity, Viggo respected her for it. He hoped she would come to realize that as they worked together.  He squeezed Orlando’s thigh in gentle reassurance. He knew his lover’s insecurities and he didn’t want him to feel intimidated by Carolyn’s language skills.

When Carolyn changed the order of her questions, asking them randomly instead of in any logical order, Viggo forced his mind back to the matter at hand. He sent a challenging glance at Orlando when he stumbled over an answer, having anticipated the wrong question.  Orlando scowled and applied himself with more diligence. He hated it when Viggo was better at something than him, Viggo knew. It would make him learn faster.

When they had mastered the answers, Carolyn had them ask her the questions. She had given them her answers once, as an example, but Viggo listened carefully as she gave them again, trying to imprint the finer nuances on his brain. They would make the difference between a decent performance and an excellent one. He had always prided himself on the quality of his acting. He was going to absorb everything he could. When she told them to ask each other the questions, he tried to trick Orlando into making a mistake, Orlando had learned from Carolyn, though, and paid too much attention. Viggo couldn’t trip him up.

“Do it as a skit, this time. Imagine you’re meeting for the first time,” Carolyn said, stopping their competition. Viggo smiled as Orlando made a comment about her speaking English and she gave an acerbic response. He wondered if she had any idea what she was setting herself up for, asking two actors to replay a scene that had been so explosive in reality.  She couldn’t have known, of course, because few people outside the Lord of the Rings cast and crew knew about the first time he met Orlando.  He had only just arrived on the set. He’d come out of his trailer to face the first day. He’d already met the Hobbits, and he’d known Beanie on and off for years.  Beanie had taken it upon himself to introduce Viggo to the rest of the cast. He’d failed, though, to prepare Viggo for Orlando.  Orlando had been late as usual and had come bounding up to the trailer, all in disarray. Beanie had stopped him to introduce them. Viggo had taken one look at the dark chocolate eyes and his life had never been the same.  It had taken time for him to admit his attraction to anyone, longer still before he acted on it, but it had only taken one look at Orlando to turn his life upside down.

He smiled at Orlando as they moved to opposite sides of the room.  By silent agreement, they began working the room of invisible guests like they would at any cocktail party or reception, pretending to talk, feigning interest. Then their eyes met and they moved toward each other. They said and did all the things that Carolyn had taught them, but Viggo let the attraction that he had felt since that first meeting show, just a little. Orlando responded, turning on the charm, hanging on Viggo’s simple answers to his simple questions as if they were pearls of great wisdom.  As soon as they finished the exchange, Carolyn broke the mood.  “Magnifique.”

Viggo thought he heard the slightest tremor in her voice.  Had she noticed the attraction between them?  Interesting. He caught Orlando’s eye as she turned.  Orlando nodded.  A little misdirection was in order.  Not that it would be feigned.  Carolyn was an incredibly attractive woman, even in her conservative suit and schoolmarm hairdo.

“Let’s try it once more, with you at the party as well,” he suggested.

“D’accord,” she agreed.

She stayed where she was as he and Orlando returned to where they had begun the last scene.  Of one accord, they began to play the scene again. Viggo observed Carolyn out of the corner of his eye as she imitated their actions. She was a decent actress, he realized. She probably got plenty of practice with scenarios in class.  She was working her way toward him. When she reached him, he turned on the charm, greeting her with the same appreciation he would have given her if he had met her at a real event.  He deliberately pitched his voice low, forcing her to stand closer to him so she could hear him.  So close he could feel the heat from her body and smell her perfume.  The only acting he was doing, he realized, was saying the prescribed lines.  The attraction he had been feigning was turning real quickly.  She was slightly flushed, he noticed, but the room was rather warm.  He couldn’t tell whether it was a sign of a mutual attraction or not, though he suspected it was.  Then Orlando was interrupting, drawing her attention. He didn’t even try to be subtle. Viggo suppressed a smile as his lover all but leered at Carolyn. He was definitely the cause of the flush on Carolyn’s face now.

“Très bien,” Carolyn said as soon as Orlando had finished the dialogue.  Her tone of voice said very clearly that play time was over.  “I will see you both Thursday at 4, at your place.  Au revoir.”

Viggo hid his amusement when she turned away to erase the board. He and Orlando gathered their things.  He noticed that Orlando had left his pen on the table. He started to say something, but Orlando shook his head.  They left the room and started down the stairs.  When they reached the bottom, Orlando smiled.  “My pen!” he exclaimed. Viggo rolled his eyes at the pathetic delivery.  Of course, Orlando didn’t need to convince him. He knew it was a set-up.  He watched with an amused grin as Orlando scampered back up the stairs and into the room.

“Forgot my pen,” he heard Orlando say, much more convincingly.  His grin as he walked back down the stairs was triumphant.



Chapter 6 - Orlando's POV


I was already mortified to be caught playing like a kid when we were supposed to be serious students. When Carolyn started out in French without even giving us a chance to adjust, I was overwhelmed as well. Languages have always been my weakest subject, my dyslexia making it even more complicated. I hoped this time would be different since we were focusing on speaking, not writing. I would have to read enough to learn my lines, but if this worked with Carolyn, I hoped that wouldn’t be a problem.  When she moved to the board and began writing, I had a moment’s panic, but I forced it down. I had learned how to cope with my disability in English. I would do it in French as well. This time, I could always get Viggo to check my notes if I had doubts.  When she turned back and began speaking again, making it clear that what she had written was only an aide to our learning, I relaxed. It was really quite easy, I discovered. Name, profession, nationality, languages. My name was the same in French as in English, though Carolyn’s accent made it sound sexier. Actor, acteur. That was easy enough, just change the stress on the word.  Anglais took a little work, but at least it was the same as the language. Viggo had to learn américain as well as English since he continues to insist that he speaks English, not American.  He also had to learn Spanish and Danish to give all the languages he speaks.  I was a little embarrassed to say I only spoke English when Viggo listed his three languages, and Carolyn her four, but I reminded myself that I had other talents, and had no reason to be insecure. Just then, Viggo reached beneath the table and squeezed my thigh reassuringly. I love the man.  He is always so aware of me and what I might be feeling. He never gets tired of taking care of me and never makes me feel like I’m a burden. Even when I probably was.

Carolyn asked us the same question, in the same order, over and over until we could give the answers easily. I wished in passing that my language teachers in school had been so inclined. I might have learned more than just enough to pass my exams.  I was getting comfortable.  Too comfortable.  Carolyn changed the order of the questions and I wasn’t paying attention. She didn’t make a big deal out of it when I gave the wrong answer; she just repeated the question, but I was still embarrassed. I answered the question correctly and made myself pay closer attention.  Viggo sent me a challenging glance, daring me to prove myself.  I hate it when he does that because I can never resist.  Of course, since it always has the desired effect, he keeps doing it. Someday I’ll learn not to react.  Maybe.  Or not.

As always, it worked. I focused on the task at hand, refusing to let him do better than me, and I didn’t miss any more questions.

Then Carolyn had us ask her the questions. I let Viggo go first, saying the questions in my mind as he asked them aloud.  I listened to her answers, but only marginally. My focus wasn’t on getting to know her; it was on mastering the language.  When it was my turn, I made it through the little conversation with no mistakes.  No finesse, but no mistakes.  I began to think that I really could do this. Then she had us ask each other the questions. I relaxed even more. Viggo might try to trip me up, but I could do the same to him, and I wasn’t above playing dirty if necessary.  It wasn’t necessary.  I answered all of his questions correctly and managed to ask them all reasonably well, too.

“Do it as a skit this time. Imagine you’re meeting for the first time,” Carolyn directed.

“So you do speak English,” I teased with a smile. I’d heard her say she spoke English when she introduced herself, of course, but I hadn’t heard her use it.

“Of course. Just not very often in class,” she replied. That would have scared me half an hour earlier, but she had proven to me that I didn’t need her to speak English for me to learn.

Viggo sent me a very private smile as we moved to opposite sides of the room to play the scene as Carolyn had asked, and I knew he was remembering our first meeting, just as I was.  I still marvel sometimes that something as simple as being introduced to someone could be such a life-altering experience, but it had been.  For both of us.  I was late. As usual. I hate being late, but I couldn’t seem to help it at the time. I came bowling onto the set and almost bowled into Viggo.  I caught myself before I did, but it was close.  I was sure he thought I was a total unprofessional, a kid with no place on a serious film. And when Beanie introduced us and I realized this was to be Aragorn, I was mortified.  I had wanted to make a good impression. Viggo hadn’t said much, because he’d been busy falling in love, I later learned, but at the time, I thought I’d totally turned him off. Which was a real bummer because he was the hottest thing I’d ever seen. Still is, 10 years later. I fell into instant lust. I was still young enough, shallow enough, for that to come first.  It had turned to love long before either of us dared act on what we were feeling. I don’t know how anyone can know Viggo and not love him. In one form or another.

When we were in place, we began our skit, but instead of simply shaking hands and saying our lines, we put on a real show.  We are actors, after all. We worked the room, pretending to meet and greet like we have to do at the obligatory Hollywood functions that I hate so much. I don’t mind the ones with our friends, but that’s different.  That’s not “real” Hollywood. Finally, we pretended to meet each other. I was going to play it straight, treat Viggo like any other stranger. We weren’t public knowledge and I wasn’t planning on letting Carolyn in on our secret. At least not so soon. Then Viggo started flirting with me as he spoke. It was discreetly done, the way he held his head, the way he stood just a little closer to me than necessary, but it was there.  I have never been able to resist Viggo’s flirting. Even when I didn’t know what he really felt, I couldn’t resist.  I certainly can’t resist him now, when I know that the slightest encouragement will land us in bed as quickly as possible.

Carolyn’s voice broke the spell. I blinked a couple of times, coming out of the role I was playing.  What had she said?  Then Viggo caught my eye as she turned away. He thought she’d noticed the undeniable sparks between us. I nodded. Whatever he saw fit to do as a distraction, I would play along.

“Let’s try it once more with you at the party as well.”  Okay, we were going to sweep her off her feet, make her think we flirted with everyone, so she wouldn’t read too much into what she’d seen. I could do that. I love women.  Not like I love Viggo, but women are wonderful with their soft curves and alluring differences. Loving Viggo hasn’t decreased my appreciation of those differences at all.  We returned to our marks and began the scene again.  Carolyn approached Viggo first. I imagine she thought him the safer of the two of us.  How wrong she was!  Viggo could be absolutely lethal. I ought to know.  I watched, amused, as he turned on the charm.  And turned her on as well.  When they reached the end of what we had learned to say, I broke in, taking Carolyn’s hand in my own. I shook it as she’d shown us, rather than kissing it like I would have done at a party, but I had no qualms about standing too close to her, invading her personal space. Of course, she didn’t step back so I didn’t feel too guilty.  I looked her over carefully, studying her face and body with eager eyes.  Beneath that teacher suit was a woman’s body.  When she finished introducing herself, I smiled.  “Enchanté!” I told her, and I was.  Enchanted.  I would have to see what Viggo thought of her. This could get interesting!  We finished the conversation and she quickly put back on her teacher persona.  “Très bien. I will see you both Thursday at 4, at your place.  Au revoir.”  It was clearly a dismissal.

Viggo and I gathered our things. I deliberately left my pen on the table. Viggo started to say something, but I shook my head. Carolyn wouldn’t let the teacher persona drop while we were in the room, and I really wanted to know if we’d gotten under her skin.  The pen was the perfect excuse to come back after she’d had time to relax.

Viggo and I walked down the stairs. When we reached the bottom, I feigned surprise and annoyance, just in case anyone could see and hear us.  “My pen!” I exclaimed. It was hardly the most convincing delivery of a line.  It didn’t really matter. Viggo knew what I was up to.  I hurried back up the stairs to our classroom.  As I hoped, Carolyn had indeed let down her guard. She was slumped in a chair, looking decidedly ruffled.  “Forgot my pen,” I told her with a sheepish grin.  I grabbed the pen and sent her another smile, one calculated to leave her even more flustered than when I entered.  I walked back down the stairs with a triumphant grin on my face. Viggo and I would have to talk, to decide what, if anything, we were going to do about Carolyn, but I was sure something could be decided to the satisfaction of all three of us.