Scattered Hearts
by
Bluespirit

Fandom: Lord of the Rings RPS
Pairing: Viggo/Orlando
Rating: NC-17
Summary: AU ~ It's the Old West & Viggo is a champion endurance rider.
Word count: 16 449

Disclaimer: The following story is a work of fiction. The author is not making any claims as to the real life sexualities or preferences of the people portrayed here. This is purely for entertainment, not profit.

Notes:
1. This story draws inspiration from Hidalgo but is most definitely a fantasy.
2. Thanks go, as always, to my wonderful beta Xanthe for her hard work & support. Thanks also to the awesome Zen for checking there were no lurking 'Brit-isms' & to the rest of the 'poker gang' for their help. And finally, a huge thank you & choc chip cookie mountain to my personal fic-ness trainer & slash motivational coach, Q.H. for her tireless nagging enthusiasm throughout!

Arabian Desert ~ 1890

"There you go, Little Brother," Viggo said, patting TJ fondly and adjusting the blanket covering the Mustang's strong back.  It was as hot as hell in the desert during the day but as soon as night fell, swift and silent, a biting cold numbed mind and body.  It was dangerous - a man and horse could die before sunrise if they weren't careful - but Viggo was an experienced rider.  This desert, and the stars in the inky sky above it, might be unfamiliar - half a world away from what he knew - but the skills to survive were the same as he'd learnt back home in the West.  With a final check to TJ, he hunkered down and threw more tinder onto the meagre fire.  It wasn't much of a blaze but it was enough as he bedded down under his thick saddle blanket.  He'd been lucky to find anything to burn at all - he'd only come upon this small palm grove as the sun was setting, a final fiery reminder of the torturous day just passed.  The day's journey had been hard - just like the long days before it - mile after mile of loose sand that made going difficult and at times Viggo had walked, helping TJ over some of the trickier tracts of dune.  Another problem was the near lack of distinguishing landmarks that made it tough to navigate - they'd had no sight or sign of the other competitors for several days, not since the last water hole…or the sand storm.  The storm had ravaged for two full days and Viggo had been glad of the tumble down old ruin that he'd managed to find just as the sand had begun to whip around them, stinging skin and eyes.  He'd lain TJ down in the shelter of a wall and covered his head with a blanket.  Then he'd crawled under too and that was how they'd ridden out the storm.  Viggo wasn't certain what had happened to the others or how many were left in the race but from his calculations the end was near - he expected to reach the finish line tomorrow and then he'd know how many of the hundred odd riders had survived and managed to make it across the Ocean of Fire. 

The Ocean of Fire - he'd never even heard of it until a few months ago….

~

Snakejaw ~ three months earlier

"Mister Mortensen?  Mister Viggo Mortensen?"

Viggo looked up from his poker hand at the polite question. The man standing before him seemed a little jumpy and he certainly looked out of place in the saloon, his fine clothes and fancy silk top hat setting him apart from the more usual cowboy clientele.  His skin was dark and his voice rich and slightly accented.

"You got 'im.  Who's askin'?" 

"My name is Al-Aziz," the man said, with a small, formal bow.  "If I may have a moment of your time please?"

Viggo glanced at his cards - nothing, not even a lousy pair.  "Sure, I'm done here anyway."  He tossed his worthless hand onto the table and nodded at the other players.  "I'm out.  See you later, gentlemen."

Viggo picked up his glass and motioned to Al-Aziz.  They moved to a table in the corner.  "So, what can I do for you, Mister Al-Aziz?"  He had to admit to being a mite curious as to why this unknown, and frankly unusual man had tracked him down in a dusty little frontier town like Snakejaw.

"I come on a mission from my ruler - His Greatness, Sheikh Omar Riyadh.  You have perhaps heard of him?"

Viggo leant back in his chair and took a shot of whisky.  "Sorry, can't say that I have.  But he don't sound like he's from round these parts - you neither," he smiled.

Al-Aziz smiled in return and began to lose his nervous look.  "Indeed he is not, Mister Mortensen.  His Excellency is the Sheikh of All Sheikhs, Benevolent Ruler and Most Bountiful Lord of all Arabia.  A greatly honoured man whom is well respected and loved by all his people."

"Well, that sure is a fancy title, Al," Viggo grinned. "So what does your Sheikh want with me?"

"Forgive me, let me explain.  My people hold great store by tradition and the ways of our ancestors - much reverence is given to the ancient customs.  So it has been for thousands upon thousands of years that once every generation a great race is held across the deserts of Arabia.  Only the finest riders and horses are invited to compete - the race is a test of endurance beyond anything that a normal man could imagine.  Three thousand miles along the Persian Gulf, across the sands of Syria and beyond to the blue waters of the sea…three thousand miles across the Ocean of Fire."

"Well, this is mighty interesting, friend, but…."

"No, please, Mister Mortensen, let me continue.  Many riders challenge for the honour of taking part in the race, for it carries far more than the pride of facing and taming the mighty sands of Arabia.  The winner is bestowed with the title of Lord of the Fire and with that comes much more.  It is not merely a title, Mister Mortensen.  No, to the winner of the Ocean of Fire comes a far greater prize - the like of which is seen but once in a lifetime - to the winner comes the Sheikh's most valued and treasured possession…the Jewel of the Desert."

Viggo watched as Al-Aziz clasped his silver handled walking stick and bowed his head almost reverently.

"That must be some prize," Viggo whistled softly.

"I can assure you that it is - the prize of all prizes - greatest in all of Arabia, as it has been for all eternity.  And the Sheikh would like to extend his personal invitation to you to compete for that prize, Mister Mortensen, to compete to be Lord of the Fire.  It is truly a mighty honour that my master does you and not one normally given to one not of our race.  However Sheikh Riyadh is the wisest of all men and has read much of your exploits as America's greatest endurance rider," Al-Aziz continued, taking a worn copy of a familiar looking dime novel from his frock coat.  On the cover Viggo could see a gaudy sketch of himself and TJ under the loudly screeching banner 'Hard Ridin' Viggo Mortensen: Cowboy Legend and American Hero'.  "He has followed your career most closely and finds you to be a noble man with much merit. You are a great champion, Mister Mortensen and my Sheikh finds you worthy of competing in the Ocean of Fire…worthy of possessing the Jewel of the Desert."

Viggo took another drink and closed his eyes as it burnt a warm path to his belly.  He wasn't interested in fancy titles or even the prize money, hell, he never really had been.  It had always been about the thrill of the race, just him and TJ out there against the wind and sky, chasing the sun across the horizon.  But they'd been racing for a good many years now and lately he'd gotten to thinking that maybe it was time to settle down, bow out gracefully while they were still at the top - undefeated long distance champions.  He had a small ranch back in Idaho and more than enough money from his winnings to lead a comfortable life.  He could let TJ grow old, running around the pastures there, and maybe bring in a string of fillies to keep the old stallion happy in his retirement.  And that was another thing - Lord knows, neither of them was getting any younger; he'd be forty himself soon.  TJ was still a fine horse - a legend - but maybe it was time for him to slow down.  Time for them both to slow down. Trouble was, Viggo knew that TJ loved to race - they both did, it was in their blood; two misfits who had found each other and made the greatest racing partnership the West had ever seen. The dime novels might be hogwash but they'd got that part right - they were the best. 

So the real question was - did they still have one last race in 'em?  One last, *great* race - a final glorious stampede to end their career.

Viggo opened his eyes and downed the last of his whisky.  "Okay, Al." He nodded and smiled, a wide toothy grin that lit up his face and warmed the blue of his eyes with a sassy sparkle.   "Looks like you and your Sheikh got yourselves a deal.  Sign us up!"

~

Arabian Desert ~ 1890

The sun was high in the sky, heat blazing down and creating a haze that hovered above every scorched surface.  Viggo had broken camp before dawn and they'd covered mile upon mile of unforgiving sand and rock.  As the day wore on, the loose sand of the dunes had finally given way to more solid ground and Viggo could sense that they were getting close to the finish line, the smell of the sea tantalisingly faint in the parched air.  A hawk screeched loudly overhead and Viggo turned to see the robed figure of a rider galloping hard behind them.  It looked like it was the one he'd heard called the Kurd back at the start camp.  The man was clearly a skilful horseman and his black Arabian was much larger than Viggo's own little painted pony.  But TJ had the heart of a lion - it was his strength that kept them going and Viggo could feel the power and determination surging through the body below him.

Viggo leant forward and whispered into TJ's ear.  "Okay, Little Brother, this is it."  He spared one more glance for the Kurd who was gaining on them rapidly and then looked straight ahead to where a faint shimmering line of silver-blue heralded the finish at the ocean's edge.  He let out a joyful yell and urged TJ on.  "Let 'er buck!"

TJ surged forward, clearly relishing the chance to gallop at full tilt, his sturdy strides eating up the ground beneath them.  Viggo was always amazed at the fortitude of this horse - his companion and friend throughout the years - despite having ridden nearly three thousand miles across the most inhospitable terrain he'd ever known, TJ was still in there, fighting right down to the last mile.  Viggo could hear the shouts of the Kurd as he spurred his horse on, desperately trying to out run the Mustang as the gaily fluttering flags of the encampment finally came into view.  Hundreds of people were there, cheering loudly and waving as the two horses approached almost neck and neck.  Viggo felt TJ give a final spurt and they broke away from the Kurd, crossing the finish line first to deafening shouts and chanting.  Viggo let out a breath - he felt as if he'd run the race on foot and his heart was pumping like a steam train.  He dropped forward to stroke and hug TJ's neck as he whispered, "Good job, Little Brother…good job." They'd done it.  They'd faced the desert and beaten it - all three thousand, gruelling miles of it.  Viggo let out a whoop and punched the air.  They'd done it. They'd won - their last race, their greatest race…the Ocean of Fire.

They were quickly encircled by a joyous throng of people, all wanting to pat TJ and shake Viggo's hand.  The melee was almost overwhelming and Viggo was glad of the respite when one of the Sheikh's formal guard came over and lead them to the shelter of a large shady awning.  Viggo dismounted, feeling stiff and as dry as hell, but with the thrill of winning still buzzing through his veins as he walked TJ to a deep trough filled with water.

"There you go, buddy.  Drink deep - you deserve it."

"I think that you both deserve to be congratulated." 

Viggo turned at the polite praise.  "Al!  Good to see you!"  He stepped forward with open arms but stopped as Al-Aziz took a small step backwards in alarm.  Viggo looked at his dusty clothes, caked in sweat, grime and sand, and grinned.  "Yeah, maybe I could do with a wash and brush up."

"Indeed," Al-Aziz said primly, though he smiled broadly nonetheless.  "In fact, I am here to instruct you that His Excellency has set aside a tent for your convenience.  You may go there and bathe before meeting His Greatness.  He is most eager to congratulate you on your splendid victory and to present you with your prize."

Viggo bit back a groan.  At this point he didn't care about prize money or some shiny diamond, whatever this Jewel of the Desert was.  He was tired and thirsty and wanted a long soak in a hot tub and maybe a good bottle of whisky to toast his success - hell, a bad bottle of whisky would do.  After he'd taken care of TJ, of course.  His partner needed a rub down and some feed. Maybe he could find some more of those juicy brown things, what were they called again - dates?  TJ had really liked them back at the start camp and they were pretty good eating for cowboys too, he'd found.

"Thanks, Al.  But I got to see to TJ first…"

"Not to worry, my friend.  My master's horsemen will care for your most worthy mount whilst you prepare to meet His Excellency, Sheikh of All Sheikhs."

Viggo smiled and patted TJ.  It looked like Al wasn't going to take no for an answer and he didn't want to offend his host.  The Sheikh was an important man, obviously well respected by his people and Viggo had warmed to him when they'd met briefly on the eve of the race.  He'd found the Sheikh's fascination with cowboys and 'The Wild West' endearing and had been flattered at the high esteem in which the Sheikh held him.  He smiled as he recalled that night….

~

"Mister Mortensen!  It is good to finally meet you."

Viggo stood awkwardly in the entrance of the royal tent.  The richness and opulence of the surroundings were a little intimidating and he wished that he'd gussied up a bit more, or tried to shine his boots at least. The Sheikh was an impressive man, old but still charismatic and Viggo could imagine that he'd cut a dashing figure in his youth, with his dark good looks and bright, engaging smile.

"Thank you, um…Sheikh…your Excellency, sir."  Viggo nodded, taking off his Stetson and rolling the brim between his fingers.  "I wanted to thank you for inviting me and TJ to your race." 

Sheikh Riyadh opened his arms in welcome and smiled broadly.  "It is I who must thank you.  You honour us with the presence of yourself and your mighty steed."  He gestured towards a seating area of large cushions dressed with luxurious fabrics.  "Come, sit and take coffee and tell me of the legendary Viggo Mortensen and TJ."

Viggo smiled as he sat down, sinking into the soft cushions.  "Well, I don't know about me, sir but TJ - now he definitely is a legend."

"Aah, you speak proudly of your horse and so it should be, my friend," Sheikh Riyadh said.  "I have read much of your adventures and it is clear that you are an admirable man - a man of honour and dignity."

Viggo ducked his head, unaccustomed to hearing that kind of praise.  "Well, there's probably a few saloon keepers that might say different, sir.  I dare say."  He looked up as the Sheikh's booming laugh filled the tent.

"Viggo Mortensen - you are a true American cowboy, just as I have read!  But also a man of goodness and integrity, I think.  You treat the land and its people with respect, you recognise the bond that exists between a man and his birthright."

Viggo was surprised that the Sheikh knew about his time with the Lakota.  Trying to establish rights for a native nation being forced from their lands by the government wasn't the kind of thing that sold dime novels.  It seemed like the Sheikh had done some digging. 

"Now, take some coffee," the Sheikh continued, as a server poured a dark, viscous liquid into ornate gold cups before diffidently melting into the background.  "But I must warn you, foreigners often find our coffee a little too potent, too…." The Sheikh stopped speaking as Viggo took the small cup and knocked it back in one swallow.

"Back home we throw a horseshoe in the pot," Viggo chuckled at his host's look of surprise.  "If it stands up, coffee's ready."

The Sheikh joined in the laughter and then stopped, looking intently at the gun belt on Viggo's hip.  "Tell me, Mister Mortensen, is that a genuine Colt?"  He asked, his voice a little hushed and almost awestruck.

"Why yes, sir, it is," Viggo said easily, unholstering the pistol and passing it across to the Sheikh.  "You know what they say…God don't make men equal - Mister Colt does."

The Sheikh held the gun carefully, his eyes wide as he tested its weight and grip.  "All men are not equal, Mr Mortensen," he said with a small, thoughtful smile as he passed the pistol back.  "But that honour may be earned."

Viggo was unsure what the Sheikh meant so just smiled politely.

"Is it true that you do not have a wife, Mister Mortensen?"  The Sheikh asked as he sipped at his coffee.

"No, sir, I don't," Viggo answered, feeling a little uncomfortable all of a sudden.  The truth was his lifestyle didn't leave a lot of opportunity for romance or love, or even sex.  Not that it bothered him much - he'd known all his life that he didn't really have much interest in womenfolk.  He took comfort and physical release when he needed it with others like himself - cowboys and such. Sometimes he thought what it would be like to have someone of his own - settling down at his ranch maybe.  But his wandering imagination never conjured up a wife - he never knew who his 'someone' might be but it was definitely a man.  He was roused from his thoughts by the Sheikh's laughter.

"Very wise, my friend," the Sheikh said with a wink.  "I have five of them - *five* wives - and I can tell you that they are nothing but trouble!  It is sometimes easier, is it not, when one's inclinations lie on, shall we say, a *different* path?"

Viggo looked up sharply, unsure if the Sheikh was saying what he thought he was.  The Sheikh merely smiled benevolently and spread his arms in an encompassing gesture.

"Ours is an ancient culture, Mister Mortensen.  An ancient culture with ancient practices, rites and traditions.  Some of which might seem very strange to the Western eye."  The Sheikh nodded but said no more.  Before Viggo could think about the implications of his host's words he caught a movement out of the corner of his eye.  He stood politely as a tall, shrouded figure slipped silently into the tent.  He couldn't see clearly as the person stood in the shadows and wore a long hooded cloak that obscured all but their eyes from view.  The Sheikh followed his line of sight and his face softened for a moment, before speaking to the newcomer in a low, gently chiding voice.  Viggo couldn't understand the language but it was clear that it contained a command and the Sheikh motioned to one of the royal guard.  As quickly as it had come, the silent figure slipped from sight and left the tent, escorted by the guard.  Viggo had a momentary glimpse of soulful dark eyes and then the apparition was gone.

"Forgive me," the Sheikh said, drawing Viggo's attention once more.  "More coffee, Mister Mortensen?  And perhaps a tale or two of your heroic exploits with the magnificent TJ?"

Viggo accepted the coffee but as he talked with the Sheikh he found himself wondering about the owner of those beautiful sad eyes.

~

Viggo pushed a few straggling strands of damp hair behind his ear and checked himself over.  He'd managed a quick, grateful bath in the tub that he'd found in his tent and had spruced himself up with some clean clothes.  He'd just had time to eat from some of the platters of delicious food laid out for him before Al-Aziz had arrived to summon him to the Sheikh.  He would have liked a little more time to rest up after the race but instead found himself being escorted to the royal tent by Al-Aziz and two of the Sheikh's guard.  The guards stopped before the grand façade, where silken banners and flags fluttered in the warmth of an early evening breeze blowing in from the desert.

"This way, my friend," Al-Aziz said, gesturing for Viggo to enter.

Once inside, it was cooler and Viggo relaxed a little as the Sheikh approached him with arms flung wide.

"Mister Mortensen!  It is so good to see you again - and all in one piece - I knew that you would survive!" He said, his face wreathed in smiles.

Viggo couldn't help but chuckle at his host's casual acceptance and belief in something that could have easily cost him his life.  This had been a hard race, the toughest he'd ever faced and he for one was more than relieved that he and TJ had made it through.

"Well, I'm glad that you did, sir," Viggo laughed.  "'Cus there was a time or two back there when I wasn't so sure myself!"

"Never," the Sheikh said.  "I had the utmost faith in you, my friend.  The Noble Viggo Mortensen - truly the world's greatest endurance rider.  Come, sit with me a moment before claiming your prize."

Viggo settled down, glad of the comfort of the lavishly scattered cushions after all the time spent in the saddle and sleeping on the hard desert floor.

The Sheikh sat opposite him, a serious look chasing away the smiles of a moment ago.  "Mister Mortensen.  Before this race you were told of its importance - its unique place in the tradition and history of my people.  Only once in every generation does it come to pass - does the Ocean of Fire welcome the finest riders to test their mettle, to try to tame the great and vast expanse of the desert.  And only a man of skill and utmost courage can enter that fire and come out whole on the other side.  Only a man of honour, a good man who respects the land and all that is in it, a man who knows right from wrong and good from evil.  For in the hell's belly of the Ocean of Fire a man's true nature, his true character, is shown and only he with integrity and strength will survive to claim victory…to claim the title Lord of the Fire and with it the ultimate prize…the Jewel of the Desert."  The Sheikh's voice grew hoarse as he spoke the last and his eyes flickered with some emotion that Viggo couldn't fathom.

"Well, I'm real grateful, sir but I don't really race for prizes, um, money and such."

The Sheikh smiled warmly.  "I know this, my friend.  Before we met I had read much of your adventures and knew you to be more than an ordinary man, more than a talented rider using his skills for fame or wealth.  I recognised in you something more and when I finally met you I knew that I had not been mistaken.  You are more than the ordinary man, Mister Mortensen…you are an *extraordinary* man.  A man worthy of being Lord of the Fire.  A man worthy of possessing the Jewel of the Desert…my greatest prize, the thing that I love beyond all else in this world.  Yes, I saw in you a man deserving of this great gift, a man whom I could entrust with its safe keeping."  The Sheikh stopped speaking and stood, walking over to Viggo who rose quickly to face him.

The Sheikh clasped his hands to Viggo's shoulders and nodded, his face curiously happy yet wistful.  He ran his hands down Viggo's arms and squeezed Viggo's rein roughened palms between his own.  "I entrust to you, Lord of the Fire, my most valuable and precious possession and know that you will treat it as it deserves."  The Sheikh nodded and then stepped away.  He clapped once imperiously.

"Al-Aziz!  Take Mister Mortensen to his tent where he will find the Jewel of the Desert."

~

Viggo followed Al-Aziz as they walked the short distance to his tent.  His friend was curiously silent and Viggo kept his peace, he was never a man for small talk anyway - probably due to being out on the prairies so much with only TJ for company.  He wondered what on earth this prize could be - it didn't sound like cash money - maybe it was gold or some big diamond.  Huh, the Jewel of the Desert sounded like something like that - a diamond or a ruby, maybe.  Whatever it was it sure had the Sheikh worked up.  Not that Viggo was all that bothered about the value of the object - he had enough to live on now that he and TJ were hanging up their spurs and settling down at the ranch.  No, he was more just downright intrigued to find out what this all-mighty prize was.  And there was his fancy new title, of course.  He hid a smile as he thought of that.  Lord of the Fire - yeah he could see that going down well some place like Snakejaw or back in Nugget Point - the small town nearest his ranch.  But he admired the Sheikh and would never disrespect him or his people by refusing the honour they'd bestowed on him.  He just wasn't planning on using the title once he got home!

"Here we are, my friend," Al-Aziz said quietly, stopping in front of Viggo's quarters. 

There was a large muscled guard standing imposingly at the entrance, a wicked looking curved dagger at his waist.  Al-Aziz nodded to the man who moved and took up a post at the perimeter.

Al-Aziz motioned towards the tent.  "Your prize awaits you within - you are indeed a lucky man, a most deserving man.  Blessings be with you and your house," he finished formally, bowing and then moving away quietly into the night.

Viggo nodded and watched him go before turning to see TJ standing in a small enclosure next to the tent.  He moved across to pat his neck.  "Well, what do you think, buddy?  Have we won ourselves a hunk of shiny rock or what?"  He laughed as TJ pushed and nudged against his shoulder.  "Yeah, yeah - I'll never know if I stand out here all night gabbin'. Okay, Little Brother - here we go."

Viggo squared his shoulders and stepped into the tent…and felt the breath catch in his throat.  The interior of the tent was bathed in the soft light of a host of oil lamps and there, kneeling in the centre of the room, was the most beautiful young man that Viggo had ever seen. 

He was dressed simply, in nothing but a pair of loosely fitting silk pants, the ivory fabric almost translucent in the lamplight.  His honeyed skin shone warmly as if oiled and thick gold cuffs sat snugly against finely boned wrists.  The only other adornment to his natural beauty was a scattering of pearls in the lush, brown curls that cascaded down the long muscles of the boy's naked back.

Viggo let out a breath and the kneeling figure looked up, his face so achingly perfect that Viggo felt sure that he was looking at an angel.  He found himself ensnared by dark, bewitching eyes.  He knew those eyes; he had seen them before - that night in the Sheikh's tent - and they had haunted him ever since.  Before he could even begin to put a thought into words the vision before him spoke, his voice as soft and beguiling as a dream.

"Good evening, my Lord of the Fire.  My name is Orlando. I am the Jewel of the Desert…I am *yours*, my Lord."

~

Viggo just gaped at the young man.  This was the Jewel of the Desert?  The Jewel was a *person*? His prize was…the impossibly beautiful boy calmly kneeling at his feet?  Viggo snapped his mouth closed and stared.  He couldn't think straight - this couldn't be right.

"W-what did you just say, boy?"  He asked hoarsely, hoping that he didn't sound too harsh. 

"My name is Orlando, my Lord," the boy said, his lilting voice caressing Viggo's senses.  He spoke with barely the trace of an accent and the cadence was rich and soothing.  "I am the Jewel of the Desert - I am yours, my Lord."

"Mine?"  Viggo couldn't believe it.  He took off his Stetson and ran a hand raggedly through his hair.

"Your consort.  My father did not explain, my Lord?"

"Consort?  Wait, your *father*?"

"Sheikh Omar Riyadh, my Lord - he is my father.  He has given me to you in recognition of your mighty and honourable achievement in taming the Ocean of Fire.  I am yours to command, my Lord."

"Wait," Viggo interrupted, his head swimming as he tried to understand.  "Your father is the Sheikh?"  The boy - *Orlando* Viggo reminded himself - was the Sheikh's son and he was the prize for winning the goddamn race?  "But that's not right, I can't just own you or something.  You can't be mine," Viggo said.

"You do not want me, my Lord?"  Orlando asked, the pain and disappointment clear in his face and in the hesitant, almost whispered words.

Viggo felt his chest tighten.  Yes, he wanted him.  He wanted this beautiful, exotic creature kneeling at his feet like he'd never wanted anything in his whole life before and the sudden realisation shocked him to the core.  He couldn't explain it but it was like there was a connection, some kind of invisible lasso - and he'd been roped, hogtied and was being reeled in.  His hands ached where they were balled into fists to stop himself from just reaching out and touching.  Touching that glowing bronzed skin…those tantalising curls - he wanted to bury his face in them and see if they smelled as good as they looked.  And hell, that sweet pink mouth - he wanted to taste those ripe lips and drink his fill.  Honey, the boy would taste like honey - he was certain.  But he couldn't do that - no matter how much he wanted.  He couldn't just take what he wanted because someone said that the boy was his.

"It's not that, boy…Orlando," Viggo said, hating the crushed look on the beautiful face and needing to explain.  "Your father can't just give you to me.  I can't win you in some damn race!"

"But you can - you have, my Lord," Orlando stated calmly.  "It is the tradition of my people, the way of our ancestors.  I have been chosen for this privilege since before I was born, my Lord.  I have been raised to be the Jewel of the Desert.  It is my purpose, my destiny and an honour which I embrace.  All my life I have known that on reaching my eighteenth year I will belong to the Lord of the Fire - a great man, a man of strength and integrity who will tame the desert and claim me as his own.  I am yours, my Lord, to do with as you will."

Viggo felt his resolve weakening.  He wanted what was being offered but it didn't seem right.  He thought back to that night in the Sheikh's tent.  Those soulful dark eyes had looked sad, maybe even scared.  Had Orlando been standing there, looking at the man he might be given to, and feeling afraid?  Afraid of him or just afraid of being given away to a stranger?

"I saw you - the night before the race, in your father's tent," Viggo said hoarsely.  "I saw your eyes, Orlando - you were frightened.  Frightened of me.  I can't just claim you, especially when you're afraid of me, this isn't right."

"No, my Lord!"  Orlando exclaimed, those same eyes now wide and begging to be believed.  "I was not afraid of you - I could never be afraid of you for I have wanted you for as long as I can remember."

Viggo felt even more confused and dropped to his knees before the boy.  He looked into Orlando's eyes, searching for something - he needed to understand.  "What do you mean?"

Orlando looked down, a faint warmth spreading across impossibly chiselled cheekbones.  In that moment Viggo knew that he wanted to hold him, kiss that heat away…and never let go.  It was crazy; the world didn't work like this - a tired old cowboy didn't just get handed a young, beautiful gift like Orlando.  He gathered his thoughts and listened as Orlando continued to explain.

"My father is a wonderful man, a wise and fair ruler of our people and a kind - and often over indulgent - parent," Orlando said, his nose wrinkling adorably as he smiled.  "From the day that I was born he has spoilt me.  Please do not misunderstand me - my father loves all his children but with me, well, he has always spent that little more time.  He has always called me his Jewel and taken great pride and comfort in knowing that my fate is to be bonded with a valiant, good man - the Lord of the Fire."  Orlando looked up at him longingly before continuing with his story. "All of my life I have loved horses and my father would take me out onto the great plains of his kingdom and we would ride together for hours.  As I grew he began to tell me stories of the heroes of history and then to read to me from books.  He recalled tales of a great rider in a far away land - a man of honour who was revered for his adventures and courage."  Orlando paused and smiled shyly.  "It was you, my Lord, of whom my father spoke - Viggo Mortensen: Cowboy Legend and American Hero.  From that time onward I wished for that man - for you - to battle the Ocean of Fire and claim me as his…as *your* own.  I longed with all my being to become your consort.  My father knew of my desire and approved of you."

"But you couldn't know that I'd come?  Or win?  Any of the other riders might have won," Viggo said, his head spinning.

Orlando lowered his eyes shyly, long dark lashes fanning out against unblemished skin.  "I did know, my Lord - it is written, it is your destiny.  Just as I have always known that my destiny is to be yours…forever."

Viggo still didn't understand.  "But why did you look so frightened - that night in the tent?"

"Ah, that. I had slipped away from Jaffar, my guard and protector, because I wished to see you.  Once I was old enough to read, I devoured every book that I could find about you.  So when I heard that you were here with my father I couldn't let you go out into the Ocean of Fire without first looking upon you, even if only for a moment - I *had* to see you.   And when I did my heart filled with joy, for I discovered that not only were you a noble man, my Lord, but also handsome and strong.  My every wish had been fulfilled and yet I grew frightened, for I knew the hardships which you must face.  Please understand, I was not afraid of you, my Lord.  But I was afraid *for* you.  The desert is a harsh place and though I knew in my heart that you would triumph, I was still worried for the trials that you would endure.  My father was as indulgent as ever with my less than proper behaviour, though I did receive quite the telling off from Jaffar - he has been my guard since birth and is very protective of me.  He was most unhappy that I had managed to evade his watchful eye and steal away to my father's tent to gaze upon you.  He is always concerned for my safety.  He says that I can be too headstrong and am apt to take risks.  It is not seemly for the Jewel of the Desert to be out without a chaperone."  Orlando gave a small, self-deprecating laugh, a light, harmonious sound almost like music.  Viggo found himself becoming entranced by this magical creature but he was still unsure.

"But, but…you don't mind?  Don't mind that your father has just given you to me?  A total stranger?" 

Orlando looked up and smiled sweetly.  "But you are not a stranger, my Lord.  I have known you all of my life.  I know that sounds strange and I cannot explain how, but there are unknown forces beyond the realms of mortal man, and it is true nonetheless.  I know you, my Lord - I always have.  And though my role as your consort dictates that I bind myself to you in body…I also give to you my soul…and my heart - for surely they have been yours all along."  Orlando spoke quietly but a fire flashed deep within his smoky eyes as he made the vow.

Viggo felt his resolve finally crumble.  The boy wanted him, was offering himself freely.  And lord above, Viggo wanted him too.  And not just for the pleasures of his body - though he was sure they'd be many - no, he wanted more.  He could imagine the two of them sitting and talking, perhaps reading by the fireside at his ranch, or riding together, side by side on the prairie.  It was foolish - the daydreams of a lunatic perhaps - but he wanted it.  He wanted it all.   But he had to be sure.  He had always tried to be a good man - the honourable man that the Sheikh and Orlando seemed to think him.  So he had to be sure that this was the right thing, that he wouldn't hurt the exquisite young man kneeling before him. 

"You really want this?  Want me?"

"I do, my Lord. With all my heart," Orlando said quietly but firmly.

Viggo sat motionless, trying to think and understand.  It was like being given a gift that he'd never realised that he'd wanted but now couldn't bear to lose.  Right or not, he wanted Orlando.  He didn't know about destiny or whatever it was that Orlando was talking about - fate, maybe - but he knew that he felt something for this boy, despite having only just met him.  By nature he wasn't a fanciful man and yet this boy affected him deeply.  He shook his head and sighed, staring at the perfection before him as he tried to make sense of it all.

Orlando bowed his head and lowered his eyes at the deep sigh.  "Do I not p-please you, my Lord?"  He whispered sadly.  "Do you not want me?"

The utter misery of the words tore through Viggo.  He took a deep breath.  The Lakota had a saying, 'Hearts may be scattered upon the winds until they find their true home'.  It felt like he'd been chasing the wind all his life, maybe it was time that he stopped thinking so damn much and just followed it home.

He reached out and gently placed a hand under Orlando's chin, the warmth and softness of the skin sending a tingle along his fingertips.  He lifted until he could look into dark eyes, now moist with unshed tears.  "You do please me, Orlando," he murmured softly.  "Very much."

At that moment Viggo knew that he would strive every day of his life to see the radiant smile lighting Orlando's beautiful face. Happiness shone from the boy and Viggo mirrored that joy with a wide smile of his own.  "Lord help me, but you *do* please me, boy.  More than I can say…a-and…I do want you."

"Then take me, my Lord, for I am yours."

The softly spoken invitation broke the dam of Viggo's emotions and all thought burst from him save for making this boy his.  He stroked the long column of Orlando's throat and slipped his fingers into the thick curls at the nape of his neck.  Viggo urged Orlando closer until their lips were no more than a breath apart.  "Can I kiss you?"  Viggo asked, his breath skittering across the lush mouth so tantalisingly close.

Orlando moaned, a low needy sound that made Viggo's breath hitch and his cock twitch.  "P-please, my Lord," Orlando murmured, "before I die of wanting you.…"

The incendiary words were all it took to torch the tinder of Viggo's need and he pulled Orlando close, caressing his hair and wrapping an arm around his slim waist.  Their lips finally touched and Viggo felt himself consumed by heat and flame, fire flickering along every nerve as the sweet mouth below him moulded itself to his will.  He licked at the full lips, coaxing them to part, and groaned deep in his chest as his tongue pushed into the sweetness of Orlando's mouth.  Honey, the boy really did taste like honey.  Viggo licked and explored, groaning again as a hesitant tongue slid delicately along his own.  He felt a tremor as Orlando moaned softly, slowly returning his caresses, and it was then that it hit him; the boy had never done this before.  Orlando had never been kissed.  Viggo gradually pulled away, smiling as Orlando followed. He stroked the silken skin of Orlando's neck soothingly.

"Orlando?"  Viggo whispered, their lips still touching.  "Is this your first kiss?"  He felt Orlando pull back a little but kept a hold of his waist, not wanting the boy to go too far.  Wide eyes looked up at him shyly, a rosy stain colouring the perfect skin of Orlando's cheeks. 

"Yes, my Lord," Orlando said softly.  "I am chaste…untouched."  He blinked nervously and a tiny pulse fluttered beneath Viggo's fingertips. "I have never b-been with another. I am pure. Everything that I am is yours."

Viggo felt heat rush through him at the innocent confession but tried to smile reassuringly.  He was overwhelmed by the trust shining from Orlando's dark eyes and decided then and there to do everything that he could to deserve that trust.  He could feel his cock throbbing, already hard and aching from just one kiss, but tamped down his desire.  That could wait.  For now he had to think of Orlando, think of the enormous gift that he was being offered.  He knew that he had to take things slowly and make sure that he didn't scare or upset the boy by moving too quickly.  Orlando may have been offering himself willingly but he was an innocent, still a virgin - in every sense - and Viggo knew that he needed to be treated with care and gentleness. Viggo didn't have much experience with making love - hell, he'd never done it - all he'd ever done was fuck, finding the nearest warm, willing body when the loneliness got too much.  Orlando deserved more than that; he was like a flighty young colt that needed to be soothed - Viggo had to gradually get him used to his touch. He had to take his time and be patient, Orlando was special.  He wanted this to be good, wanted the boy to remember it - for the rest of their lives together.  'Cus he sure couldn't see himself giving Orlando up after this - one kiss had sealed the deal for him - the boy really was his now.  And he intended to keep him forever.  It was a silent vow but one that Viggo was determined to make good on.

"That's okay, everything's gonna be okay." Viggo ran his knuckles down the impossibly soft skin of Orlando's cheek and traced the outline of his lush lips with a gentle fingertip. Orlando's mouth opened slightly and a hesitant tongue lapped shyly at his finger.  Viggo almost groaned as he felt his cock jerk in reaction but he tried to ignore the insistent flesh and concentrate on taking things slowly.  He smiled encouragingly and replaced his finger with his mouth, pressing a soft kiss to the alluring lips.

"How about we get a mite more comfortable?"  Viggo asked, nodding towards the low bed with its sumptuous cushions.

Orlando ducked his head for a moment before smiling.  "I would like that, my Lord."

"Me too," Viggo said, keeping his arm around Orlando's waist as they both stood.  The boy was barefoot, standing a few inches shorter than him and he looked up demurely from under sooty lashes.  He really was stunning, with a strong nose and jaw line, and such a tempting, sweet mouth.  Viggo smiled, still not quite believing that this was happening - that this beautiful boy was really his - and then gave in to the succulent lips before him, taking them in a kiss that left them both breathless.  "Come with me," he murmured, taking Orlando by the hand and leading him to the bed.  Once there he quickly shucked off his boots and gun belt.

"What do you wish of me, my Lord?  I am afraid that I have little knowledge of how to please a man but I will do whatever you desire.  I hope that I will not disappoint you."

Viggo felt his cock lurch at the guileless words.  The boy obviously had no idea how appealing he - and his innocence - was.  "Don't you worry about that. We'll take our time," Viggo said gently.  "Just let me take care of you, okay?"

"But it is my duty to serve you, my Lord.  To bring you pleasure."

Viggo trailed his fingers through the dense curls at Orlando's neck. "Oh, you will bring me pleasure, blossom - you already do and I want to do the same for you.  I want to touch you, taste you - is that all right?"

Orlando's breathing grew more rapid, the pulse point at his throat fluttering erratically, and he nodded quickly.  "Oh, yes, my Lord.  Please…."

Viggo drew him closer, feeling the lithe body trembling in his arms.  "You're not afraid of me, are you?"  He asked softly.

"Never, my Lord," Orlando shook his head, silky curls teasing at Viggo's skin.  "Though I am…nervous - I wish so very much to please you and yet know that I am unskilled in the ways of love-making.  But I am eager to learn.  My heart is racing in anticipation of becoming yours completely.  I have waited so long for you, my Lord, please do not make me wait any longer."

Viggo groaned inwardly.  The boy had no idea how difficult he was making it for him to keep control and not just throw him down and fuck him hard.  He took another breath, he had a feeling he'd need to do that a lot before the night was out.  But he was going to do this right.

Viggo stroked a hand down the downy skin of Orlando's back.  "S'okay, blossom…everything's gonna be okay."  He nuzzled at a delicate ear lobe, enjoying the shiver that ran through the supple body so close to his.  He pressed a soft kiss to Orlando's cheek and then kissed a path down the elegant column of his throat before moving back up to the other ear for a final touch.  Orlando shivered again, letting out a tiny moan and Viggo took the parted lips gently with his own, allowing the kiss to grow in intensity until their tongues were wrapped together in an intricate dance.  Without breaking the kiss, Viggo carefully lowered Orlando to the bed, settling them on their sides, their mouths still locked together.  They stayed like this for an age until Viggo finally pulled away, needing to cool things off a little as his aching cock pulsed demandingly in his pants.

Orlando's mouth was reddened and kiss-bruised as he lay back gasping on the bed and Viggo had to fight not to dive straight back in for more of the honeyed sweetness.

"Oh, my Lord," Orlando murmured, his eyes dark and alive with need.  "You make me feel like nothing I can explain…I have never felt this way before."

Viggo winked and grinned at the artless smile lighting the boy's face.  "Just you wait…."

He trailed his hand lightly across Orlando's collarbones, a gentle finger circling each peak before moving lower.  Orlando's chest was hairless and as smooth as satin, the burnished skin glimmering in the warm glow of the oil lamps. Viggo dipped his head and kissed the soft skin, licking a teasing path to first one hard nipple and then the other.  He heard a startled gasp and looked up to see Orlando staring at him with wide eyes.

"Feels good, huh?"  Viggo asked, darting another lick to each juicy nipple.  Even the boy's skin was sweet.

"V-very, my Lord," Orlando moaned and Viggo could see the boy's cock filling and beginning to strain against the flimsy fabric of his pants.  "My Lord?"

"Hmmm," Viggo lapped at Orlando's nipples some more, smiling as he watched the gossamer covered cock twitch with each motion of his tongue.  The boy was so damn responsive.

"Could I…?  Um, may I…?"

"What do you want, blossom?"  Viggo asked gently, mindful of the boy's hesitancy.

"May I touch you, my Lord?  I would be honoured to do so," Orlando murmured, his cheeks warming as he ducked his head shyly.

Viggo smiled, the thought of those graceful hands on his body making his blood pound.  "'Course you can.  How about I take my shirt off?  That be okay with you?"

"Oh, please, my Lord…may I do it?"

Orlando's eyes shone with excitement and Viggo lay back on the deep mattress and smiled.  "Whatever you want, blossom."

Orlando smiled gratefully and sat up, carefully reaching out and unbuttoning the worn fabric of the shirt.  As each button was undone, Orlando tentatively touched the newly exposed skin.  Viggo felt each touch like a brand and breathed in deeply, shocked at how arousing a simple touch could be.  His wayward cock throbbed dully again and he tried to ignore it and enjoy the almost innocent touches to his chest and belly.  When all the buttons were finally undone, Orlando spread the shirt open and smiled, his eyes wide and appreciative as he slipped it from Viggo's shoulders and carefully placed it on the floor.

"You are so beautiful, my Lord, so handsome," Orlando whispered, trailing gentle fingers across Viggo's skin and tentatively stroking a hardened nipple.

Viggo drew in a sharp breath as the touch sizzled deliciously across his skin.  Orlando immediately drew his hand away and lowered his head.

"Forgive me, my Lord.  I did not intend to cause you pain."  The boy's voice shook.

"Hey, it's all right," Viggo crooned, taking Orlando's hand and placing it firmly on his chest again.  "You're doing good.  Real good, so don't worry.  You didn't hurt me, blossom - just the opposite!"

Orlando opened his mouth, his lush lips forming a silent 'oh' and then he smiled mischievously.  "Then I may continue, my Lord?"

"Absolutely," Viggo winked and then drew in another shaky breath as Orlando leant forward and dropped a teasing kiss to his chest.  The boy was a quick study, that was for sure. 

Orlando swirled his tongue across the firm muscles, seemingly worshipping the tanned skin and reddened nipples.  He looked up questioningly and trailed his fingertips through the wiry hair in the valley of Viggo's chest.  "You are very masculine, um…here…"

"You mean I have a hairy chest?"  Viggo chuckled and stroked Orlando's chest, the bare skin as smooth as porcelain.

"Yes," Orlando nodded, looking a little anxious.

"What's the matter, blossom?"  Viggo asked, pulling Orlando to him, his skin tingling and scorched wherever they touched.  Everything about this boy drove him wild and made his pulse race but he was determined to take it at an easy pace.  No point trying to gallop before you could trot.  "Don't you like it?"

"Oh no, my Lord.  I do like it - you are very manly.  You look how a man should…I am, um…I fear that I am lacking and that you will find me unattractive," Orlando murmured miserably, dropping his head to Viggo's shoulder.

"Look at me, Orlando," Viggo instructed softly and the boy's head shot up, his obedience immediate.  "There's nothing wrong with the way that you look.  You're beautiful and I wouldn't change a single thing about you."  He nodded as Orlando's eyes widened in surprise.  "You're perfect just the way you are.  You know what I thought when I first saw you?  Kneeling over there?"  Orlando shook his head.  "I thought you were an angel.  Thought that I must a died and gone to heaven to look at something as pretty as you."

Orlando smiled tentatively.  "That it how I felt when seeing you for the first time, my Lord.  You are the most beautiful man that I have ever seen, could ever have dreamt of…." He stroked Viggo's face gently, just skimming the pads of his fingers across the slight growth of beard that Viggo hadn't had time to scrape away before his visit to the Sheikh. 

Viggo mirrored the touch, the skin of Orlando's jaw line feeling as soft as satin.  "Well, I don't know about that but as long as you don't mind putting up with this old cowboy…."

Orlando giggled, an intoxicating sound that Viggo found himself wanting to hear forever more.  "You are not old, my Lord!"

"Older than you."

"Distinguished, my Lord."  Orlando giggled again.  "And very, *very* handsome!"

"Ah, well, as long as you're happy," Viggo grinned, delighting in the boy's energy.  He pulled him closer, rolling them over until they lay on their sides again, facing one other. "That's all that counts, blossom."  He kissed the still giggling mouth and stroked the lean muscles of Orlando's back.  As his hands moved lower and brushed across the firm, silk covered globes of Orlando's ass, the giggles soon turned to sighs and moans.  Despite the layers between them, he could feel the heat of Orlando's cock against his hip, growing harder as their bodies pressed together.  He slowly pulled his mouth away, peppering tiny kisses to Orlando's cheeks and neck before pushing him to lie flat on the bed.  He continued with the kisses, covering every inch of satin-soft skin with butterfly touches as he moved down the lithe body, caressing and kissing all the way.  He paused when he reached Orlando's flat belly, noticing for the first time a small tattooed sun, fiery flames radiating from its centre.  "What's this?"  He asked, tracing the patterned ink curiously with his fingertips.

"Your mark, my Lord," Orlando answered simply, as if it explained everything.

"*My* mark?"

"The mark of the Lord of the Fire.  It was placed upon me when I was but a child to signify to all that I was your consort - that I was the Jewel of the Desert.  I bear it with pride, my Lord and have done so during all my years of waiting and longing for you."

Viggo kissed the yellow and red ink, and smiled.  "I'm here now."

"Yes, you are," Orlando whispered breathily, his eyes darkening with desire.  "Please?  Make me yours, my Lord."

Viggo pushed his hips against the mattress, his cock straining against his pants.  If the boy carried on like this he didn't know if he'd be able to control himself.  He closed his eyes and breathed deeply.

"My Lord?"

Viggo kissed the taut belly again and looked up. "S'okay, blossom.  We're getting there."

Orlando wriggled a little, the movement sending delicious aftershocks tingling along Viggo's nerves.  "Could we get there a little more quickly, my Lord?"

Viggo laughed at the gentle teasing, captivated by the boy's spirit.  "Oh, you're gonna be trouble, I can just see that!"  He chuckled, ghosting his fingers across Orlando's sides and making him squirm and giggle. He moved up and pulled the still laughing boy closer, swallowing the giggles in a deep kiss.  He pushed into Orlando's mouth and coaxed the boy's tongue back into his own, sucking on it gently.  Orlando's wriggling changed and soon he was pushing rhythmically against Viggo and letting out breathy little moans that made Viggo's heart beat faster.  Viggo broke their kiss as he reached between them and placed his hand at the waistband of the flimsy silk pants that Orlando wore.  He paused and saw Orlando nod and push his hips upward, begging for more.  Slipping his hand inside he stroked the dusky curls at Orlando's groin before lowering the pants and freeing his straining cock.  The boy was even beautiful here, his long slender shaft arching up towards Viggo's hand.  Orlando hissed and thrust his hips again as Viggo took hold of his cock. The hot flesh felt perfect in his palm and he held it for a moment, letting Orlando get used to the feel of being touched there for the first time.  He lifted his head slightly, checking that Orlando was okay.  What he saw made his own cock jerk.  Orlando lay with his head thrown back, swollen lips open and panting, and his eyes dark with want.

"My Lord?"  It was both a question and a plea.

Viggo nodded reassuringly.  "Just feel, blossom…." He kissed Orlando again and began to stroke the hard cock with firm strokes, root to head, swirling his thumb in the crystal droplets now weeping freely from the tip.  He was amazed at how good it felt to do this, to bring such pleasure to the boy in his arms.  It didn't take long - between Orlando's inexperience and state of arousal, and Viggo's skilful pleasuring, Orlando was soon shaking and panting as his body grew rigid and then convulsed helplessly in ecstasy, his breathy cries ringing out.  Viggo soothed the pulsing flesh through the contractions and tremors of completion before carefully wiping Orlando clean with a nearby swatch of silk.  He stripped the ivory pants from Orlando's long legs and held him close.

Orlando continued to pant and Viggo stroked and comforted him, scattering kisses across his face until he grew calm once more.

Eventually Orlando stirred.  He reached up and held Viggo's face gently between his hands for a moment.  "Thank you, my Lord.  That was…I cannot…I do not know what to say.  I have never felt such a wondrous feeling in all of my life.  Thank you."

"Well, that's good, right?  So why the sad face, blossom?"  Viggo was relieved that Orlando had obviously enjoyed his touches and that he'd managed to go slowly with the boy - though his cock felt half strangled in his pants.  But he was concerned at Orlando's doleful expression.

"But I have failed you, my Lord," Orlando whispered.  "It is my duty - my honour - to serve you and yet I lay here and received pleasure.  I gave you nothing in return."

"Okay, first thing," Viggo said, kissing Orlando gently.  "You have given me pleasure.  Watching you like that, knowing that it was me making you feel that way?  That was a wonderful feeling.  This is a two-way thing, you know - I don't just expect you to do everything for me - I want to make you happy too.  Got that?"

Orlando nodded a little unsurely and Viggo kissed him again, the boy was irresistible when he was like this but he wanted to make sure that he understood before they went any further.

"Second thing," Viggo continued.  "Who says we're done here?  There's a lot of things I want to show you, to share with you and if you want to, we can carry on right now."  Viggo's cock pulsed in agreement and he had to grit his teeth to stop himself pushing against the sweet body in his arms.  He couldn't stop the deep moan though when a moment later a tentative hand rubbed at the bulge in his pants. He looked up in shock at Orlando's cautious face.

"Please, I wish to learn…to bring you pleasure as you did me.  May I look upon you…t-touch you?  Will you teach me, my Lord?"

Viggo moaned, the boy's guileless enthusiasm making him harder than ever.  He stroked Orlando's face and nodded.  "'Course I will, boy - if that's what you want.  How about we start with me getting out of these," he said, his hands going to the waist of his pants.

Orlando blushed, his cheeks staining a beautiful pink, yet his eyes flashed with want.  "Yes please. I would be honoured...I need, um…I would like to see you.  If that pleases my Lord?"

Viggo smiled to reassure the boy.  "That pleases me, Orlando.  *You* please me."  He stripped off his pants, taking his underwear with them so that he lay back naked on the bed.  He had a moment of worry.  He was so much older than this perfect boy, had seen a lot of life and had the scars to prove it - what if Orlando was disappointed?  His worries faded as he heard a soft gasp and looked up to see Orlando's face wreathed in wonder, his eyes shining appreciatively.

"Oh, my Lord.  I had no idea…you are so beautiful, so handsome - all over!"

Viggo couldn't help but chuckle as he pulled Orlando to him for a brief kiss.  "I'm mighty glad that you think that way, blossom."

"Oh, I do, my Lord.  Surely I am most fortunate to be the consort of such a fine and impressive man.  May I touch you please?"

Viggo smiled and took a steadying breath.  He really needed to keep himself under control.

Orlando stretched a gentle hand to Viggo's chest, stroking the firm muscles there before cautiously moving lower.  The touch was electrifying and Viggo felt as if his skin was afire - he'd never been treated so carefully and reverently before, like he was the most important thing in the world.  And perhaps to Orlando he was - he certainly spoke of him in that way.  Viggo sighed happily as he realised that the boy was rapidly coming to mean the same to him.

Orlando continued to worship his body with gentle caresses, his hands skating over the flat planes of Viggo's belly before stopping, his fingertips unsure as they touched the wiry curls at his groin.

"My Lord?"  Orlando asked, his dark eyes uncertain.  "It is permitted?"

Viggo blew out a breath.  "Anything you want, blossom - whatever you feel comfortable with."  He didn't want to rush the boy but his cock was standing up hard with want and he was aching to feel Orlando touch him there.

The first hesitant touch to his throbbing flesh made Viggo groan out loud, a low sound deep from his soul.  The boy might be unskilled but he was a natural.  Viggo looked up and nodded encouragingly, worried that the boy might think that he had done something wrong again.  But Orlando's face was a picture of amazed concentration as he grew bolder and grasped Viggo's cock in both hands, sliding the hard flesh between his palms in a slow rhythm.

"Like this, my Lord?"  Orlando asked, smiling up in wonder.

"Oh, yeah, boy - that'll do it," Viggo huffed, trying to hold back from just giving in and thrusting his hips up violently.

"Do it, my Lord?"

The innocent question made Viggo pause.  He had to make sure that Orlando knew what they were doing.  He wouldn't have him frightened or unhappy.  "Like when I was touching you before, blossom.  You keep on with what you're doing and you'll make me come."

"And that is wrong?"  Orlando's hands stopped moving and held Viggo's cock as if it were something precious.

Viggo smiled and stroked Orlando's curls.  "Nope, it's very, very right.  There are a lot of ways that we can pleasure each other and that's one of 'em."

"Is that what you would like?  Or is there something else that you would prefer?  What can I do for you, my Lord? Teach me, please." 

Orlando spoke so earnestly that Viggo couldn't help the picture that suddenly flashed into his brain - pushing his cock into the boy's sweet, tight body and taking him until they both exploded in ecstasy.  Heat rushed through him at the tantalising image but he managed to stay calm - on the outside, at least.  He took Orlando's hands gently in his own and pulled them to his lips, kissing them softly.

"There are lots of ways that a man, a lover, can please another - with kisses and simple touches like you were doing, or with something more."

"More?"

"Yeah, a man can use his mouth on another man's cock.  That can be a wonderful feeling," Viggo said carefully, not wanting to spook the boy.

"Is that something that you would like, my Lord?  For me to use my mouth in such a way?"

Viggo felt his cock lurch at the thought of those lush pink lips stretched wide around him.  Orlando looked down at his hardened flesh and licked his lips. Viggo shuddered.  Oh, it sure was a temptation. 

Before he could speak, Orlando asked tentatively, "How may I serve you, my Lord?  Please tell me what you desire for I ache to bring you all the pleasure that I can."

As much as that beautiful mouth tempted him, Viggo desperately wanted to take the boy fully, to spread him wide and sink into that hot body.  But he didn't want to push too quickly.  The boy was so willing and Viggo was worried that he might do something that he really didn't want to - just to please him.  However it seemed that Orlando could sense his reticence, obviously already tuned to his needs.

"Is there more?  Something else that you wish of me, my Lord?  I am eager to share all that I am with you, I wish to be yours in body, heart and soul.  Please tell me."

Orlando sounded so eager and hopeful that Viggo decided to explain it all.  If the boy seemed scared or unsure in any way then he'd just leave it.  There was no way that he was going to influence or force Orlando to do anything that he wasn't ready for.

"Like I said, there's a lot of ways for two men to be together and to share pleasure.  But there is a way that's really special - when one man takes the other inside him - kinda like a joining."

Orlando's eyes grew wide and his breath came in soft pants.  "Oh, yes please…I want to be yours in all ways, my Lord - for us to joined as one and to experience all that there is.  But how would this happen?  I do not understand.  In what manner may this bonding occur?"

Viggo could see the desire in Orlando's dark eyes and could feel him trembling with want.  He pushed Orlando to lie flat on his back, gently parting his legs, and then guided him to raise his knees, his feet on the bed.  The boy complied easily, his face showing no concern, merely intense anticipation.  Viggo smiled reassuringly and touched a single finger to the small hole between the luscious cheeks of the boy's ass.

"Here," Viggo said carefully.  "A man can put his cock in here."

Orlando's mouth opened in surprise and he blushed warmly.  "There, my Lord?  But surely such a large thing," he gestured at Viggo's cock, lying hard against his belly, "will not fit in this place?"

Viggo rubbed his finger lightly over the puckered opening, pleased as he saw Orlando's enjoyment of the sensation.  "Well, it can be a tight fit but if it's done carefully then it can be the best feeling in the world - good for both men."

"And you would do this?  With me?"  Orlando asked, his voice vibrating with desire.  "You wish to bond with me in this way so that our bodies can truly become one?"

Viggo closed his eyes briefly, Orlando's obvious willingness and excitement causing his breath to catch.  "I do.  I can't deny that I want you, I want all of you, blossom.  But it may hurt at first and I don't want you doing this just to please me, understand?"  Orlando had to know all of the facts and come to his own decision about this.  No matter how much Viggo wanted him, he wasn't going to push the boy.

Orlando smiled, his face glowing.  "My Lord.  I have wanted you all of my life, have longed for your touch for as long as I can remember.  I trust you to take care of me and to teach me in the ways of lovemaking.  But you must believe me when I say that I truly wish for this - for this ultimate union between us.  Please understand…I *love* you, my Lord and all that I am is yours…forever."

Viggo couldn't speak, his throat was dry and a long forgotten prickle of teary heat blurred his eyes.  Love?  This boy loved him?  He might be older, more experienced, but when it came to love he was a novice.  He'd never been in love and wasn't even sure how it felt.  He looked again at the smile warming Orlando's face and realised that he never wanted to see it fade.  This beautiful boy's happiness meant more to him than his own, meant more than his own life.  He was shocked.  He'd never known feelings like this before and suddenly he knew, not the how or even the why of it, but he knew that he'd fallen in love.  Hard Ridin' Viggo Mortensen was finally in love…with a dark eyed boy with the face of an angel.

Viggo sighed and smiled, content to just accept this unexpected hand that he'd been dealt.  Life sure could be a gamble but this time it looked like he was holding all the aces.

"My Lord?"  Orlando hadn't moved and was staring at him with such open longing that Viggo couldn't have denied him, no matter what.

"I want you, angel," Viggo murmured, leaning over until their lips barely touched.  "And I love you."  Orlando's joyful sigh was swallowed as Viggo took his mouth in a kiss, pushing forward and tangling the boy's tongue with his own.  They stayed like this for a long while, Viggo's body pressing Orlando into the soft bed as their mouths moved synchronously, sharing breath and desire.  Gradually Viggo slowed the kiss down until he could pull away and look into the achingly lovely face below him.

"Are you ready, blossom?  Still want to do this?"

Orlando sighed dreamily and nodded.  "Yes please, my Lord.  I wish for us to be joined - to take you within my body.  But I am unsure what I should do…."

"Now, don't you worry about that," Viggo smiled.  "Let me take care of everything."

"So you will join with me now?"  Orlando asked, his face alight with hunger.

Viggo felt his cock lurch yet again - this boy was going to kill him.  "Not yet, blossom.  It's going to be a tight fit and I have to make sure that you're ready for me, kinda ease the way.  I don't want to hurt you."

Orlando's eyes flashed with excitement but Viggo could sense some lingering nervousness.  He stroked his knuckles down the boy's cheek and kissed him softly.  "No need to worry, angel - everything's gonna be all right."

Orlando smiled - the sweetness making Viggo's head spin.  He just wasn't used to feeling like this.  "I trust you, my Lord."

Viggo pressed another kiss to the smiling mouth, he was determined to be worthy of that trust.  He nodded.  "Okay, blossom.  I want you to lie on your belly for me and spread your legs nice and wide."

Orlando obeyed immediately and Viggo's pulse quickened at the sight of the perky little ass presented so eagerly for him.  He stroked Orlando's back soothingly and took a couple more deep breaths to calm his over anxious cock and then slid down the bed until he was level with the peachy globes.  He could feel Orlando squirming slightly and kissed a pert buttock gently.  "Don't you worry about nothing, just relax and enjoy.  Okay, blossom?"

Viggo parted the firm cheeks and blew gently across the boy's tight pink hole.  Orlando's response was muffled as he pressed his face into a silk pillow and Viggo could feel the lithe body trembling beneath him.  He whispered softly, his breath just caressing the tiny pucker.  "Relax, blossom…."

Viggo pressed forward and teased the fluttering hole with his tongue, lapping around it and carefully pushing inside with soft searching licks.  Orlando was whimpering into the pillow, his body taut as a bowstring and his hips pushing rhythmically into the mattress.  Viggo smiled and hummed happily as he continued to lap at the boy's tender sweetness.  It felt good to bring his boy so much pleasure, even if the wait was almost killing him and his complaining cock.  But he was determined to do this right and make it good for Orlando.  He continued to coax the boy's hole open with his tongue for a while until it was time for more. 

Viggo kissed the slick pucker and eased up, moving to lie at Orlando's side, stroking the long lean muscles of his back tenderly.  He dipped his fingers into the valley of the firm ass and circled one finger around the hole. "Blossom?" Viggo leant close to Orlando's ear and kissed the soft skin. "Do you have anything that can help us out here?  Something slick and slippery?"  Saliva wasn't going to be enough, not if he didn't want to cause the boy pain.

Orlando lifted his head from the pillow, his eyes so dark and heavy that he looked almost feverish - feverish with arousal.  He slowly focussed and glanced towards a low ornate table at the bedside with various fancy glass bottles and jars.  "There, my Lord.  There are unguents and sweet oils for soothing the skin.  Will that be sufficient for your needs?"

Viggo reached over and picked up a blue glass vial with a long elegant stopper.  He poured some of the oil onto his hand and rubbed it through his fingers - it was slick and smelled of some kind of spice.  "Perfect - that'll do the job."

Orlando was lying with his head to one side, watching his every move and Viggo smiled, reassuring him before returning his hand to the boy's perfect ass.

"I'm going to use this to help open you with my fingers."

"Your fingers, my Lord?"

"Yeah, I'm going to use my fingers first to stretch you and make it a mite easier.  Then when you're ready - and remember you have to tell me if you're not - then I'm going to put this inside you."  Viggo stroked his reddened cock for a few moments, the oil making the slip and slide of his palm feel sublime.

Orlando's eyes followed the motion and he whimpered softly.  "I want that, my Lord.  I wish to feel you inside me, to feel us joined as one."

Viggo nodded.  "I want it too, blossom."  He slicked his fingers with more oil and reached between Orlando's cheeks, pressing against the shadowed hole.  His finger slipped inside a little and Orlando sighed, his hips lifting and making the finger slide in to the first knuckle.

"Oh, oh - so good, my Lord…."

"I know, blossom.  You just keep telling me how you're feeling." Viggo pushed in deeper.  The boy was so tight.  He moved his finger carefully and the narrow channel gradually relaxed, the pressure easing. "I'm going to add another finger now…"

Viggo could see the tiny nod as Orlando squirmed beneath him, his breath coming in fast pants.  He pulled out briefly, just long enough to add some more oil to his fingers, and shushed Orlando as he began to whimper in need.  "Shhh, s'okay - I'm just using some more oil - want to keep you slicked up so that it won't hurt."

Viggo stroked the little pink hole and slid one finger back inside and then added a second.  He heard Orlando's quiet grunt and stopped moving.  "Does it hurt?"

Orlando looked back across his shoulder and smiled hesitantly.  "Not hurt, my Lord.  It just feels…full.  I am unaccustomed to this sensation."

"I know but it'll soon start feeling a whole lot better, I promise," Viggo winked.

"My Lord?"  Orlando's face was bemused and then Viggo twisted his fingers and rubbed at the tiny nub he'd been searching for.  Orlando's reaction was immediate - his eyes opened wide, his body went tense and he shook.

"W-what?  My Lord?"  Orlando whispered, his voice hoarse and awestruck.

"That's a little place that a man has back here," Viggo explained, "and when it gets touched right it's like firecrackers on the Fourth of July!"

Orlando nodded and then moaned as Viggo teased the gland again.  "And I will feel this when you are inside me, my Lord?"

"That and a whole lot more, blossom," Viggo said, working his fingers to carefully stretch and pleasure the boy's tight passage.

Orlando just groaned and pushed his hips into the mattress.  "Oh, please…I want you so much, my Lord.  Will you not take me?"

Viggo's cock leapt at Orlando's begging, the pleading tone making his blood surge in anticipation.  He quickly added one last oil-drenched finger and gave a final, thorough stretch.  The walls of the tight channel were relaxing and growing accustomed to his touch, and Viggo knew that it was time.  The boy was ready and so was he - if he waited much longer it'd be all over before he even got inside the enticing body that was waiting so eagerly for him. 

"Okay, blossom.  You're sure you're ready for me?"  Viggo had to ask.  He didn't want to hurt Orlando.

Orlando turned and looked at him with serious eyes, flashes of desire lighting their dark depths.  "I am ready, my Lord.  But I am…there is one thing…" He hesitated, his face uncertain.

Viggo pulled him close and kissed at the tiny furrow on Orlando's brow.  "What is it?"  He wanted everything to be all right, he wouldn't risk hurting him.  He needed to know that his heart and mind were ready, not just his body.

"I am unsure, my Lord - of the way in which you would do this.  The way in which we would join and complete our bond but…I would like to be able to see your face as you enter me.  Is…is that allowed?  Is it acceptable?"

Viggo smiled in relief.  "That sounds perfect.  But sometimes - for your first time - it may hurt a little. Are you sure you want to do it this way? I'll try to be careful."

Orlando nodded.  "I wish to see you, as we become one.  I wish to see your handsome face, the face of the man whom I belong to, my Lord. "

Orlando knew what he wanted and Viggo wanted it too.  The thought of pushing into him - his boy, *his* - and watching that bewitching face as he experienced it all for the first time was too tempting.  He couldn't deny the boy - or himself.  "I want to see you too, angel."  He kissed Orlando deeply and laid him back against the pillows before positioning himself between the widespread legs.

"I'm going to put your legs onto my shoulders to start with, okay?  So that I can get at you a bit easier," Viggo said and reached for the oil to coat himself.  As he slicked his hard cock, Orlando's hands reached down and joined him, the sensation of those long fingers touching him so delicately and with such reverent desire making his breath short.  "I won't last too long if you do that, blossom.  You feel too good."

Orlando smiled, looking pleased at the compliment and opened his legs wider, the invitation clear.  Viggo lifted Orlando's legs, kissing a path down each calf to the shapely ankles before gently resting them on his shoulders.  Orlando's hole was exposed, quivering and slick in the lamplight.  Viggo wanted this so much, wanted to feel his boy squeezing down on his cock, wanted to make him see stars and remember this for the rest of his life.  He eased forward and took his hard flesh in his hand, slowly guiding it to rest against the pucker.  He teased the hole lightly, circling his cock around the glistening flesh.

"Okay, blossom?"

"Y-yes, my Lord, please!"  Orlando panted, his face flushed with want.

"Take a deep breath," Viggo instructed, breathing in himself as he slowly pushed forward.  There was a moment of resistance and then the tight ring relaxed and he felt himself sink inside just a little.  The body below him stilled and he looked up in concern.  Orlando's eyes were squeezed shut but his face was a blank mask and he was panting shallowly.  He was obviously hurting but not saying anything.

"Orlando?  Blossom?  Just breathe for me.  Take some big breaths and blow 'em out, okay?"

Orlando nodded and did as he was told.  Viggo felt the tense muscles around the head of his cock relaxing and huffed out a relieved breath as he saw that Orlando looked calmer.

"That's it, you're doing good - real good.  Now keep breathing and bear down for me."  Viggo pushed a little more, his cock slowly sliding in an inch at a time until eventually he was fully sheathed, Orlando's body opening in welcome.  "That's it, you got me.  You got me, blossom."  The feeling was indescribable, slick velvet walls pulsing around his hard flesh, the glorious heat nearly searing him in its intensity.  He'd never felt anything like it, sinking into this boy - his boy - had felt like finally coming home.

"Orlando?  Are you okay?  Just stay still a spell until it feels easier."

Viggo held himself steady, though the urge to just pound into the heaven of the hot sheath surrounding him was almost overwhelming.  Orlando was lying still, breathing deeply.  There were small lines of pain around his eyes but they quickly faded as his breathing evened out, and they were replaced by a look of pure joy and wonder - a broad smile slowly transforming his face as Viggo looked on.

"My Lord…we are one…we are joined.  I feel you within me."  Orlando's voice was an astonished whisper.  "I had no idea, never imagined that such a feeling could exist…it is though I feel your very heart beating within me."

Viggo knew how the boy felt.  Despite all the fucking he'd done, this was the first time that he'd entered a body with love. There was no comparison - having both the emotional connection as well as the physical was almost beyond his comprehension.  He felt alive in a way that he could never remember feeling before.

"I feel you too, angel."

Viggo couldn't say anymore, he didn't have the fancy words to tell Orlando just how special this moment was for him too - how special *he* was - and what this all meant.  He was just a simple cowboy and he didn't know how to take these unfamiliar, jumbled up feelings of happiness and love, and string them into a sentence.  He'd just have to try and show Orlando.

He guided Orlando's legs down until they clasped his waist and leant forward, their mouths almost touching.  He could feel warm breaths caressing him as he gazed into dark loving eyes.  "I feel you…." He closed the short distance that kept him from the sweetest mouth he'd ever known and took it in a deep kiss.  He immersed himself in the feel of the soft lips moving so pliantly with his own, pushing his tongue inside the warm haven.  It was as if Orlando's body cradled him completely, he felt consumed as he buried himself within his boy; soft mouth sucking on his tongue and hot tightness embracing his cock.  It made his heart thump hard enough to burst. 

Viggo pulled back slightly, feeling the muscled channel grasping deliciously at his hard shaft, and then pushed back inside once more.  The sensation caused him to moan and the sound mingled with Orlando's delighted gasp.

"Oh, my Lord, my Lord - do that again, I beg of you!"

Viggo repeated the movement, his cock dragging over Orlando's gland on each stroke.  He could feel the boy's erection pushing against his belly and continued to rock in and out of his body, each stroke drawing ever louder cries.  He reached between them and took Orlando's weeping cock in his hand, pumping it in time with the rhythm of his movements.  He felt Orlando's reaction immediately, the walls of his channel squeezing down with sublime heat and pressure.  He slowed a little, not wanting to come too quickly - he wanted to do this forever, to feel Orlando's body around him, hear his breathy cries of arousal and joy.  He pulled Orlando up onto his thighs, the wiry curls of his groin brushing against the silky smooth skin of the boy's ass.  The change in angle let him bury himself even more deeply into the hot, tight passage and Orlando cried out, his hands reaching for Viggo and pulling him down to seal their mouths together.  The pace of their lovemaking increased, Viggo couldn't help it - it felt too good, he couldn't get enough of the beautiful body writhing beneath him.  He worked the turgid flesh in his hand - he wanted Orlando to come, wanted to feel himself coming as his boy did.  It only took another few strokes and he felt Orlando tense and the velvety walls that enclosed his cock contract.

As ecstasy overtook him, Orlando cried out in wonder.  "Oh, my Lord…my…Viggo!"

Viggo knew a moment of perfection as he heard the euphoria in Orlando's voice, heard his name falling from those sweet lips, and then the tight heat surrounding his cock clenched and spasmed and his boy was coming, ropes of pearly fluid covering Viggo's hand and smearing onto their bellies.  Viggo followed him into bliss, his seed shooting from him and filling the still shuddering body held tightly in his embrace.

Long moments later Viggo's frantically thundering heart slowed and he managed to lift his head from where it had fallen on Orlando's shoulder.  He knew that he would never forget the sight that greeted him.  Orlando was smiling up at him, his curls in disarray and his mouth reddened and swollen from their kisses.  But his face shone with joy, it was as if he was lit from within and utter contentment and peace radiated from him.  Viggo felt humbled that he had been able to give such a gift, such happiness to his boy.  But also humbled by the enormity of the gift given in return - Orlando had trusted him, with his body and heart.  Viggo knew that he would never give up either; Orlando was truly his now - forever.

"Are you all right, blossom?"  Viggo asked softly, his voice feeling scratchy and unused.

Orlando's smile grew broader, his whole face beaming.  "Oh, yes, *yes*, my Lord.  That was…I have no words, my Lord.  It was beyond anything that I could ever have imagined.  *You* are beyond anything that I could ever have imagined."  He lifted his head and brushed a gentle kiss to Viggo's lips.  "Thank you, my Lord."

Viggo could only return the smile and deepen the kiss.  He didn't know what to say, how to tell Orlando how much he meant to him.  As the kiss gradually grew softer, he slowly pulled away, sliding Orlando's legs to the bed carefully and gently easing himself from his body.  A brief look of pain and loss flitted through dark eyes.

"Sorry, blossom," Viggo soothed with another kiss.  "Let me make you more comfortable."  He wiped Orlando's skin with another swatch of silk, tenderly cleaning the slightly reddened pucker between his cheeks, before settling back on the bed and pulling Orlando into his arms.  He stroked his fingers through the soft curls trailing across Orlando's shoulders.

"Thank you, my Lord," Orlando whispered, nuzzling at Viggo's chest.  "I love you."

Viggo sighed happily and cuddled Orlando closer.  "I love you too, angel."  He wasn't going to question it, even if he still wasn't sure how it had happened.  One minute he was crossing the finish line after the toughest race of his life and the next he was here - holding the most beautiful boy he had ever seen and planning to spend the rest of his days loving him.  Looked like Lady Luck had definitely been on his side today….

"I am most honoured to be loved by you, my Lord," Orlando said happily.

"Viggo," Viggo corrected softly.

"My Lord?"  Orlando looked uncertain.

"My name's Viggo."

"B-but…you are my Lord, my Lord," Orlando mumbled, his words unsure.

"You called me Viggo before - when we were making love," Viggo said, careful that his voice held no note of censure.  He didn't want Orlando to think that he'd done anything wrong.

"I am sorry, my Lord.  I did not mean to…it was a mistake.  I forgot myself, I felt driven beyond my senses.  I meant no disrespect, please forgive me, my Lord," Orlando whispered miserably.

"Hey!  You didn't do anything wrong, blossom.  I liked hearing you saying my name like that."

"But it is not seemly, my Lord.  You are Lord of the Fire and I am merely your consort." 

Orlando looked genuinely upset and Viggo hurried to explain.  "You're not my possession, Orlando," he said gently.

"But I am, my Lord…and I wish to be," Orlando's voice grew quieter, as if he feared rejection.  "I wish to be yours - to belong to you, my Lord."

"You do belong to me, angel - just like I belong to you," Viggo soothed.

"My Lord?  I am sorry but I do not understand."

Viggo pulled Orlando closer and touched his lips to the top of his head, the luxurious curls smelling sweet and fresh with a hint of some exotic spice.  He needed to explain this and help Orlando understand. He decided to try another tack.

"I was making a joke with your father before the race."

Orlando looked up questioningly. 

"I told him that God didn't make men equal but that Mister Colt did." 

Orlando smiled shyly and his eyes moved to the gun belt lying close to the bed.  "My father would read to me when I was a small boy - stories of you and other cowboys. He was always fascinated by the famous Colt pistol.  B-but I still do not understand, my Lord."

Viggo continued.  "Well, your daddy told me that all men aren't equal - but that they can earn it.  I didn't understand what he meant then but I think I do now.  You're of royal blood - the son of a Sheikh and I'm just a cowboy."

Orlando shook his head, clearly disagreeing with Viggo's description of himself as '*just* a cowboy', but Viggo smiled and carried on.  "Then I won this old race and I figure that your daddy sees me as more of an equal now, what with me being a Lord and all."  He drawled out the title and chuckled at Orlando's infectious giggle.  "Well, that should at least mean that we're on more of a level footing, shouldn't it?  I don't see myself as 'your Lord', Orlando.  I'm not more than you, you see?  We're more like equals - the same."

Orlando nodded hesitantly but Viggo could see the confusion still clouding his eyes. He'd been raised to see himself as one thing and here was Viggo telling him something different.  It would probably take a time to get used to…but hell, they had time - he could spend the rest of his life making the boy see his own worth if he needed to.

"I'm Viggo and you're Orlando, okay?"

"But you are still *my* Viggo, are you not, my Lord, um, my Viggo?"  Orlando murmured timidly.

Viggo chuckled and pulled Orlando closer, pecking a line of tiny kisses from his cheek to mouth.  "Yeah, I'm your Viggo," he smiled, "and you're my Orlando, got it?"

Viggo felt the smile against his lips.  "I am yours and you are mine.  Yes, my Viggo?"  Orlando said.

"Yup, you got it," Viggo said contentedly, deepening the kiss a little before settling back comfortably, Orlando warm and pliant in his arms.

"Blossom," Orlando said thoughtfully.  "You have called me that often…and angel."

Viggo felt his face heating for a moment, glad for the dimness of the tent.  Cowboys never blushed, even if they were hopelessly in love.  "Yeah, well blossom just seems to fit you…and you are an angel.  I thought so from the moment that I set eyes on you.  You don't mind?"

"Of course not, my Lord...my Viggo.  They are special names?  Just for me?"  Orlando's eyes looked hopeful.

"Yeah, just for you, angel," Viggo whispered softly, honoured to be the reason for the sweet smile curling at lush pink lips.  "Like love names…"

"*Love* names, my Lord, my Viggo?"  Orlando's smile grew wider.

"Yeah, 'cus I meant what I said, angel.  I do love you."

"As I love you, my Viggo - as I always have…and as I always will…"

Viggo smiled at the joy evident in Orlando's face, knowing that his own mirrored the feeling.  "Always, angel," he murmured before giving in and taking the sweet lips in a brief, gentle kiss.

"Time to sleep now, blossom," Viggo sighed happily.  He pulled Orlando to him and covered them with a blanket as his boy snuggled close in his arms.  "Tomorrow's a new day."

"Yes, my Lord…my Viggo," came the sleepy response.

Epilogue

Viggo pulled back a touch on TJ's reins and the old stallion trotted to a stop as they reached the brow of the small rise. He looked out over the prairie; the afternoon sun was dropping low in the sky but the roof of the ranch house was just visible in the distance.  He turned at the sound of hooves and smiled as Orlando brought Percy to a stop at his side, patting the horse's neck affectionately.

His boy was now a man…but still as breathtakingly beautiful as the day that he'd first set eyes on him.  And every day it seemed that Viggo grew to love him more.  Their life was all that he could've wished for.  They shared everything - from days spent riding for no better reason than the thrill of feeling the wind in their hair, to evenings sitting close together by the fireside, reading and swapping stories as the crackling logs hissed and popped in the hearth.  Orlando loved to hear tales of Viggo's racing days and they spent many a happy winter eve cuddled together just talking and laughing.  Orlando's humour and spirit was infectious and he could still be relied on for some high jinks or other.

Viggo looked over and caught the hint of a grin.  "What you up to, blossom?"  He drawled, chuckling as Orlando's face became suspiciously contrite and obedient.

"Why nothing, my Lord," Orlando said softly but his eyes twinkled with fire.

Viggo nodded seriously for a moment before breaking into a wide toothy grin.  My Lord, indeed!  They had long treated each other as equals and this was just Orlando's way of letting Viggo know that he was horny!

"Really, boy?"  Viggo said, playing the well loved game.

"It is just that I fear that I have been neglecting my studies, my Lord.  You know that I wish to please you in all ways and I feel that I need further guidance - in the ways of pleasuring a man.  Could you teach me, my Lord? Please?"  Orlando asked, his tone sincere but his eyes dancing beneath darkly smudged lashes.

Viggo pretended to think it over.  It had been years since he'd needed to teach Orlando anything in the bedroom - or in the barn or stables for that matter.  They both enjoyed making love, the passion they found as they shared their bodies with each other only reinforcing the depth of their love and commitment.  "Well, I'd hate you to fall behind, blossom," he winked.

"I always strive to be a good and obedient student, my Lord," Orlando nodded innocently.  "To be attentive to your...*needs*."

Orlando practically growled the last word and Viggo felt his cock lurch in agreement.  It was definitely time to be riding home and getting his boy naked and panting in his arms.  He reached across and pressed a brief but thorough kiss to Orlando's teasing lips.  "Home, blossom.  Now."

Orlando's eyes darkened with desire and his smile was filled with sweet promise.  "Anything for you, my Viggo."  Then he spurred Percy on, galloping away towards the ranch and calling behind him,  "Come on, my Lord!  I want you!"

Viggo smiled.  Orlando had been an unexpected and undreamt of gift and he was thankful everyday for having found him.  He'd had to travel half a world away but the Lakota had been right, his heart had finally followed the winds home - home to Orlando.

His smile grew broader as he watched the beloved figure racing off into the distance.  Yep, he was home at last.

He laughed loudly and then let out a whoop, urging TJ on and chasing after his love.

"Let 'er buck!"

The end

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