himself into Gandalf for the benefit of the cameras. To be able to
do that, he marvelled, to be able to change your way of standing,
walking, even talking - that was what it was like to be a good
actor. He wanted to do that, wanted to learn.
He wanted to learn so much. It was as if he had been let loose in a
music shop and had to pace himself over what he chose, which section
he browsed.
A soft touch on his shoulder made him look up, and he smiled as
Orlando sat down next to him, silently watching Ian as well.
As the scene finished and Peter approached Ian to discuss notes,
Elijah sighed and shifted, taking a breath, and then another.
"He's so fucking good," he said softly, catching Orlando's nod out of
the corner of his eye. "Makes the rest of us look like amateurs."
He paused. "Must be nice to be able to just turn it on and off like
that, you know?"
"What, and you think you don't?" Orlando laughed, loudly enough for
Ian to look over in semi-annoyance. "You're a weird little sod, you
know? One day you'll understand how good you are, and that will be
the day that you absolutely turn into a Hollywood fuckwit." His
voice and tone softened, and he leaned over to drop a kiss on
Elijah's cheek. "Hope it never happens." With that, he stood up and
bounded off, looking for more people to annoy.
Elijah watched him go, and then turned his attention back to the set
in front of him. He watched as the scene was set up again so that
the cast could try once more to reach Peter's exacting standards. As
he watched Ian begin to interact with those around him, he finally
let his mind start to wander.
Ian. This had started almost as an exercise; he wanted to learn as
much as he could, as quickly as he could, and who better to ask than
somebody with such a huge wealth of experience? The fact that Ian
wasn't exactly hideous had certainly made one part of his education
very enjoyable, and without realising it, a smile crossed his face as
he thought of what he had learned so far in that area.
But it was more than that. Ian was a kind, amusing companion. A
word Elijah had never had to use before perfectly described him:
urbane.
"Hobbit!" Peter's voice broke Elijah's reverie, and he looked up,
startled. "Don't you have work to do?"
"Guess," Elijah agreed, holding up one hand to forestall anything
Peter might have to say. "Sorry."
"A Ringbearer's work…" Ian positively twinkled, and
