Title: The Moose, the Tree, and the Irish Writer
Author: Sairalinde
Type: HET Fan Fic
Pairing: Viggo/OFC
Rating: R
Beta: Glorfindel
Disclaimer: This never happened…this is total fiction…Viggo is a real person but I
make no claims on him other than he is ready made for writing a romance story
about. Artist/Actor/Poet all that jazz perfect fodder for a romance story, saved me
a lot of time making up a character is all. The female character is a figment of my
deranged imagination from reading far too many cheesy romance novels.
Peripheral characters of Sean Bean and Orlando Bloom are also not mine
obviously and do NOT have a relationship as far as I know. This was written in
fun that's all. All other characters are fictitious.
Feedback: Yes please send to sairalinde@hornofgondor.com
Archiving: Yes but ask first please.
Summary/Notes:Viggo meets an Irish writer in a most unusual way. Love story.

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[Chapter 1] [Chapter 2] [Chapter 3] [Chapter 4] [Chapter 5] [Chapter 6] [Chapter 7] [Chapter 8] [Chapter 9] [Chapter 10] [Chapter 11] [Chapter 12]

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Chapter 1

He was mesmerized by the way the morning light filtered through the trees. Yes this was the lighting he had wanted. He needed to get this shot, he had been thinking about it for ages. He finally had found the time to do this.

Click, Click, Click, Click. There he had it...then he heard something rustling in the leaves. He turned in time to see a Bull Moose step into the ditch just before the main highway. The man turned and began clicking away again. Not something you see everyday...though more often here than anywhere else he
thought. Then he saw the moose stepping into the road, about that time a red Jeep Cherokee came around the curve. It wasn't going very fast, and the person reacted to the moose. The man watched helplessly as tires squalled and the Jeep ran off the road, into the ditch, and straight into the biggest tree on that side of the road. The moose just swished its tail and continued across the road like it
happened everyday.

He swore. "Shit, shit, shit...you definitely don't see that everyday!" He said it as he ran toward the Jeep, which had steam coming out of the engine from the smashed radiator. When he got to the door and swung it open he stopped for a few seconds. All he saw was a deflating airbag and auburn curls surrounding a very fairy like face with a tiny up turned nose with a light dusting of just a few
soft freckles.

"Miss, Miss, are you ok?" He asked trying to get her to wake up. He thought maybe she had passed out or was knocked unconscious because her eyes were closed and her head was down.

She shook she wasn't passed out and the man realized she was laughing. Hysterical probably he thought and then she looked up at him, that's when his world tilted. "What the bloody hell was that?"

She had a beautiful lilting Irish accent that caused the man to smile despite the situation. Then he saw her eyes...they were emerald...Christ no that can't be. No one had emerald eyes...yes green, maybe even very green but emerald...had to be a trick of the light or they are dilated...from a concussion more likely he thought.

"It was a moose." He said softly. "Miss, are you alright, do I need to call an ambulance?"

"No, I am fine, the seat belt did its job as did the bloody air bag... I suppose I will feel it later though." She said looking over the hood that was crumpled up in front of her.

"You sure? Perhaps I should call the police, an ambulance, do you need to call family, your husband?" He didn't understand why he was babbling, normally he was calm but he had never witnessed a crash quite like this before...and right in front of his own driveway! Not to mention the heavenly Irish princess that was in that crashed car.

She began to laugh again and pushed her curls out of her face. "Let's see, police...what are they gona' write the moose a ticket? Not very likely I should think, and I don't need an ambulance, I am fine, and my family are in Ireland, and I don't have a husband so I should think he wouldn't need to be called."

The man began to laugh at her response. She was definitely keeping her sense of humor, perhaps she was all right either that or she was loosing her mind.

"Are you sure you didn't hit your head?" He asked reaching toward her face to turn her toward him again.

She turned without him having to touch her and she smiled again. His world seemed to tilt again...yes she had emerald eyes...and that smile. He was a published poet and all he could think of was "wow".

"Yes...I am really fine. Just need to get out is all." She said reaching down to the seat belt buckle. She pushed it and tried again. "Damn...ummm it's stuck."

"What?" He asked.

"The seat belt is stuck." She responded.

"Oh, I have a knife hang on a sec." He went back to his camera bag and dug out his knife that he kept in there for emergencies or whatever. He hardly ever used it but was glad he had it now.

"Fancy that...so prepared." She murmured to herself as she watched the handsome man with sandy blonde hair bound back to a bag he had left by the road. She wondered what the hell he was doing out there on the side of the road and then she worried, what if he was some weirdo hitchhiker...just what she needed. Besides why would he have a knife? Oh God this could be bad...very bad.

When he came back he showed the knife to her as if worried it might scare her. "I uh I keep it in my camera bag for emergencies. Have only ever used it to cut string a few years ago in New Zealand and to pry open a broken trailer door in Montana last year so hope it's sharp enough."

She just nodded; he traveled all the way to New Zealand, hmm well most weirdo hitchhikers wouldn't be so well traveled. Plus she didn't think a man who looked like him would be dangerous, at least not in that way anyhow.

His blue gray eyes flickered to hers and he said softly "I am going to slide the flat of the blade here just under the strap so don't move, I don't want to accidentally poke you with it."

She sucked in a breath and waited while he nudged the knife under the belt and over her thick sweater. Then he twisted the knife so the blade was against the seat belt and pulled. The belt cut in two with a whooshing sound and she let loose the breath she had been holding. Then she looked down as he slid the knife between the seat and the lap belt cutting it in two as well. She quickly turned and jumped
out of the Jeep and then realized her legs weren't as steady as she had thought they were.

The man reached out and grabbed her arms to keep her from falling. She fell against his chest and breathed in his scent...ooo he was just as handsome up close. He smelled of sandalwood...such a nice scent. Nice strongly muscled chest and arms, it was like one of her characters had just stepped off the page and into her own life. Then she straightened herself and stood up.

"Sorry...guess my legs were not quite ready for standing yet." She smiled up at him. He was tall but compared to her five foot nothing frame most people were.

She practically fell into his arms. He thought, God she is gorgeous and her hair...oh it feels like silk against my chin and neck and mmm it smells like wild flowers. When she pulled back his arms almost wanted to protest and hold her close again. The next thought struck him...she was an Irish fairy, tiny probably no more than five feet tall...adorable little woman. He thought.

"That's alright...umm town is still twenty miles away. Do you have a cell phone?" He asked.

How could she tell him she had gotten mad at her agent and threw it out the window somewhere in Nevada? So she just shook her head. "No, I don't."

"Well at the risk of sounding like some kind of bad guy in a horror movie...would you like to come back to my place and we can call a tow truck?" He invited.

She laughed. "A tow truck, yes, and I need to call my insurance company." She said nodding her head. "Oh I need to grab some things out of the Jeep though."

"Sure." He said putting his knife back into the camera bag and then gathering it up.

She climbed back into the Jeep and came back out with a purse, another bag, and a backpack.

"Before I go to your house, what is your name?" She asked as she turned back to him.

"Oh, sorry, my name is Viggo Mortensen." He responded.

"Great to meet you Viggo, though I would have preferred other circumstances. My name is Tabitha O'shea but you can call me Tabby." She said smiling at him.

Viggo smiled. "Tabby...like a cat." Fitting he thought with those huge green eyes.

She laughed despite herself. She got that all the time, but from him in that oddly inflected American accent it sounded entirely different.

"Yes...exactly...now lead on kind sir...I am getting quite cold out here. Is it always this cold in September?" She asked smiling at him.

"No not normally but this year has been quite cool." He said waving one of his hands.

"So what is it that you do out here in the middle of nowhere?" She asked walking beside him. He had taken her heaviest bag, which she greatly appreciated.

"Oh, well here in Idaho I work on my art and my poetry. I was taking some photos there at the end of the driveway when your accident happened." Viggo
explained.

"You said that as if Idaho isn't your only home?" Tabby asked.

"Well you are right...I am an actor and have a home in Los Angeles. I spend most of my time lately here though with my horses, it allows me to work on my art and poetry more than I can in L.A. Guess acting is just the art that pays the bills anymore." He added laughing.

"So you are a successful actor...not just a waiter who says he can act?" Tabby teased.

"You don't watch movies much do you?" Viggo asked curiously.

"No I don't. I am more of a reader I guess. I haven't been out to the movies in 10 years I think, and well the last time I watched American television I think I had to have been in college." She responded shifting her backpack on her shoulder.

Then she stopped. It dawned on her who he was. "Viggo Mortensen? Didn't you take Stuey's place in the Tolkien movies?"

"Stuey? You mean Stuart Townsend...yes, you know him?" Viggo asked, stopping and then dropping back to where she had stopped.

"Yeah, he and I shared the same agency back in Ireland. He was an arse...I am sure you did a much better job of it than he ever could. Aragorn was a much more complex character in Tolkein than he could have pulled off I think." She said with determination. Viggo tried to suppress a laugh at the way her nose scrunched up when she called Stuart an arse.

"Thanks, I think." Viggo said smiling at her.

She shrugged and started walking again. "Christ, Viggo where the hell do you live?"

He laughed. "Just over the hill here...I know it's a long drive way, I like it though, guaranteed privacy."

"I suppose." She said shaking her head and mumbling something about actors.

"You said you and Stuart shared the same agency...you aren't an actress though right?" Viggo questioned.

"Lord no...I am a writer." She said simply.

"What do you write?" He asked interested.

"Nothing of any importance really. Fluff by most people's standards." She responded again shifting the bag on her shoulder.

"Is that heavy?" Viggo asked concerned.

"Aye a little." She admitted.

"Here." He said a little exasperated and took it from her. Damn it was nearly as heavy as the bag he already had of hers. No wonder she kept shifting it...she was so tiny he doubted should could have carried it much longer. Stubborn Irish lass he laughed to himself...Sean would love it.

She just smiled at him and watched as he walked ahead of her. She couldn't help but appreciate the view. "Nice." She whispered.

"Huh?" He asked looking back at her.

"Nothing." She said turning red and jogging to catch up.

Viggo had heard her though and it took his entire acting prowess to keep from snickering. She had really been checking out his ass. Tabby O'Shea was definitely very interesting.

When they topped the little hill he heard her suck in a breath.

"Beautiful isn't it?" Viggo asked indicating his ranch he loved so much.

"Aye." She whispered stunned. The house itself wasn't overly large, it was a gorgeous modern cabin though and the barn matched its architecture as well.

It was truly a lovely place and the view around it...absolutely gorgeous. Once they reached the porch Viggo opened the door and let her step in before him. It was his turn to check out her ass that looked damn good in those snug faded jeans she was wearing.

He stepped in behind her and said, "Welcome to my home, Tabby."

She looked around at all the beautiful hard wood and was in awe. Nearly every wall was covered in shelves of books...beautiful old books and some new and paperbacks mixed in along with a few pieces of brightly colored modern abstract paintings and photographs.

"These are yours?" She asked pointing at a small group over the large stone fireplace.

"Yes, a few I kept at my son's request." He answered setting down the bags on the desk by the door.

"Your son?" She asked.

"Yes I have a 15 year old son named Henry. His mother and I are divorced." Viggo explained. For some reason he felt compelled that he had to mention he was divorced.

"Ah." She simply nodded.

Then the phone rang. Viggo went over and picked it up.

"Hello."

"Hey Sean! Really? That's great, congratulations. Here? Well, uh, well sure when? .... Next week? .... Well alright..... You want me to pick you up?...well if you think you can find it...sure.... See you then!" Viggo hung up the phone smiling.

"Friend?" She asked curiously.

"Best friend...his name is Sean Bean, an actor from England." He answered.

"Sean Bean? I believe I saw him in a play last year in London, he's quite good." She responded and looked at Viggo curiously.

"What?" He asked trying not to smile at the way she was staring at him.

"Umm weren't you going to call a tow truck?" She asked.

"Oh...oh...sorry yes." He said then grabbing the phone and punching in Bob's number.

"You have the tow truck driver's number memorized?" She asked.

"Bob's a friend." He answered then the other person picked up.

"Hey Dave it's Viggo is Bob there? ……Yeah he Bob...there was a wreck this morning right out in front of my drive way...I have the nice lady right here in my living room that the tree jumped out in front of...yeah pretty bad but she is ok. Yeah could you come by and pick it up. I hope you can fix it for
her...yeah...yes...Jesus Bob...ok tell Kate I said hi. See ya in a bit."

Viggo put the phone down.

"Need to call your insurance company?" He handed the phone to her.

She pulled the card out of her purse and started punching the numbers. Once she explained what happened and there was no police report but she did have a witness who nodded yes when she said, "Would they sign an affidavit...Uh yes, yes they will." Then she got off the phone.

"Good Lord like I ran into the tree on purpose!" She said handing the phone back to Viggo rather abruptly smacking it into his palm.

He smiled. Irish temper as well. "They are just doing their job...lots of people pull insurance fraud you know." He had no idea why he was antagonizing her on this.

"Bloody hell, don't defend the blood suckers." She laughed and he did too.

"It's going to be about thirty minutes before Bob can get over here...would you like some tea?" He asked.

"Oh aren't you a God? Tea? An American offering me tea...oh I could kiss you for that." She said in a rush and just as quickly turned blood red.

Viggo laughed, he thought for a second that the kiss didn't sound half bad. "I have always drank Yerba Matè an herbal tea from Argentina…lived there as a kid. Then I spent fifteen months with many folks raised drinking English tea so I tend to keep it on hand these days for guests like my friend Sean. Find myself drinking it instead of the matè sometimes. Habit I guess." He said as he led her into the kitchen, which she found just as lovely as the rest of the house.

"This house is wonderful, Viggo." She stated as she sat down at the small kitchen bar.

"Yeah, I fell in love with it when I saw it." Viggo answered as he filled the kettle with water and set it to boil.

They talked for several minutes while the kettle heated and while they drank their tea. She asked what kind of name was Viggo Mortensen and he told her Danish. They talked more and he told her that he had lived all over the world and spoke Spanish and Danish along with a few other languages.

She told him she too traveled a lot as a child, but always back to Ireland. She was from County Clare, the village of Kilfenora, and spoke fluent Gaelic as well as some French, Italian, and Spanish. She also had four older brothers.

Then he asked again. "So you never told me what you write."

She looked away for a minute and saw a blue tow truck coming down the drive. "Oh your friend is here." She said taking a sip of tea and smiling into the cup. That's the second time she hasn't answered him because of an interruption.

Viggo set his cup down and headed out onto the porch to greet Bob.

Go to Chapter 2