How Much Do You Love Me? or Something New About King Lear

How Much Do You Love Me? or Something New About King Lear

Posted: March 2003
Title: How Much Do You Love Me? or Something New About King Lear
Type: RPS
Author BC
Characters: Various
Rating: R
Disclaimer: OK, I don't know these guys, they don't do these things, I am just writing about them to entertain some people. No money made etc. My deepest apologies to Shakespeare for using his marvellous words for my own darker purpose - well maybe he would have liked it.
Warnings: Just my way of getting some writing practice, not intended to be in any way serious.
Author's Notes: My cast is just from the Fellowship right now, guess I am just looking at the film not at reality too much. Thanks a lot for AlexCat for the Beta. Whatever it takes to have a nice day

Summary: The fellowship is playing a scene from King Lear a bit differently

*****

"You want to do what?", Elijah was rolling his eyes at Orlando.

"I think you heard just right", stemming his hands I his hips in a mock schoolteacher's pose. "Shakespeare – the greatest poet of all times. Just a few scenes. Or one. Learn it, play it. It will be fun. – See!", Orlando's brows were raised, "it already picks up. I am rhyming."

"Yeah, and very badly. Shakespeare would not want you to be near his plays." Elijah was turning to walk out of the tent the catering company had set up for lunch, trying to escape Orlando and his ideas to fill up their already short free time, which seemed to get stranger with every upcoming long weekend.

The first time, after a couple of weeks getting comfortable in the company of each other, after several nights out to local bars or home get-togethers slowly developing into wilder parties with quite a bit of drinking, especially on the hobbit and elf side, underage and early calls or not, Orlando came up with something this play to "add some spice", Orlando explained. "And the best performance will get a grand prize dedicated from the initiator himself." Orlando was grabbing Elijah's arm to hold him back. The younger man turned, feeling the pressure on his arm, the closeness of the other man's body. He couldn't resist but ask: "And what kind of twist?" He dared not to ask about the prize, dreaming about it the night after their talk.

Orlando was smirking: "We get to that later. We first have to get the others' names in the hat. I'll copy the pages with the lines and everything else will be explained thereafter."

Elijah was rolling his eyes again. Orlando and his thing with Shakespeare was something still slightly disturbing. Was it an English thing, he mused, or something sucked in Drama School, he couldn't quite figure it out. The only thing he knew was that Orlando looked amazingly appealing when being so agitated ad talking about the famous writer and used to be actor. But why King Lear, he wondered and tried to remember what happened in this play and what could be spiced up and how.

Everybody, especially the other three of the hobbit quadruplet, seemed pretty curious about Orlando's Shakespeare party idea and even Viggo and SeanB had put their names down to be put into groups and act out a scene Orlando was still keeping quiet about, although one could feel the energy it cost him to hold back. Ian had been especially delighted to hear that the play in question was King Lear because a couple years earlier he had already been part of the cast of an adaptation of this play for a national British company and speculated of incorporating Lear himself this time. John, however, seemed to have other plans for this particular weekend, so did Hugo and Liv decided to be the jury for the two groups, explaining that she did not want to be the only woman in a Shakespearean play where female roles nevertheless used to be played by men in the author's time.

In a relatively quiet minute during lunch two days after Orlando had tested his idea on Elijah, the group sat together. Liv picked the first little paper out the hat, which happened to be a black sock of Orlando's, clean as he had repeatedly declared. "Actor number one of group one for Orlando's mystery scene of King Lear …", Orlando held out the rolled pages marked purple: " … is Orlando himself", finished Liv.

"Good, then I can keep this one, the King's role", showing everybody that the purple was meant to be Lear's marking and presented the others for his group mates – different shades of green. "The second one is … Ian", announced Liv and the older man couldn't keep quiet and mockingly angry replied: "That is the second time I miss out on the main part, but at least this time Lear won't be such a grumpy, old man." Orlando smiled and handed him his moss-green marked paper. "But wait till everybody has his part and I can explain everything."

As Elijah was drawn next for Orlando's group, his heart leaped forward. He had always enjoyed being near Orlando, at parties, on the set, but in the last little while it had become more than enjoying. He wanted to be near him, close to him, feel his hand casually brush over his own arm, their knees touching when they sat on a couch talking, their fingers meeting accidentally over the salt shaker at lunch time. It was something Elijah had never acknowledged feeling before.

He got olive green marked papers. The last one Liv picked out of the sock was Viggo's name, "completing the happy glover." Viggo just raised an eyebrow looking up from his plate and took the mint colored roll from an heartbreakingly smiling Orlando. "Hope you make a good youngest daughter", Orlando whispered when he was the closest to the long haired man. Viggo's eyebrow was raised even higher, if possible, but Orlando drew back with a laugh.

"The king of our second group will be …", Liv paused, trying to add some more tension and keep a bigger part of their attention, shared unfortunately with some delicious lasagne. "… Sean Bean." He grinned: "Finally, I will be king. Not bad, not bad at all." He got the purple papers and the shades of green were handed to Billy, SeanA and Dominic.

"Would you now be so kind as to open your papers, your parts are marked and I will explain the procedure of our little play", said our master of ceremonies.

"The sheets of paper I handed out to you are part of the first scene of King Lear. For everyone who is not familiar with the play, it is part where Lear divides his kingdom in three pieces to give to his daughters through asking them how much they love him. Two tell him exactly what he wants to hear, only the youngest tells him that's /he-(she)/ loves him how he deserves it as her father and the king. He finds out too late, everyone is dead pretty much, he is mad and dies too after screaming against the storm on the heath that the love of his youngest was the only true one. Your task is now to study your lines, its not that much actually, so don't squirm Dom, but don't simply recite them as you would do in a play, but transform them as much as necessary, while keeping style and tone to suit our situation and our players. Nobody else will exactly know what you say, not the members of your group, so it will also be a bit of an improvisation, but it will be a lot of fun."

"… for the others to watch", Billy finished the sentences sarcastically. And Dominic asked sheepishly: "You basically tell me, I should declare my undying love for SeanB while he tries to refrain from laughing?"

"Well, basically yes, but it must fit the constellation of Lear. Your the youngest, being nothing but honest."

"Got it. I just don't know if I can restrain myself from passionately declaring my faithful servitude to my master", Dom was now kneeling down, his arm outstretched, but not touching SeanB, who was standing behind Viggo trying to look concerned. "I thought being a king meant more than learning about love", the addressee of Dom's little scene sighed. Viggo got up, giving SeanB a brotherly clap on the back and asked the director of their play: "What are you looking for Orlando, the love of children to their parent, the love of servants to their master or are you looking for another love, closer to our real life or that we imagine to be real.?"

."Well, the love of children, servants, friends, people or lovers ... I want to be surprised like the other members of our little play, but to add the spoke-of spice, it should be more than Shakespeare intended. Let us transcend the meaning of father and children, king and subjects and play with love."

Viggo was knotting silently, pondering what had been said as Orlando continued. "I hope we'll have fun this weekend. I know it is not the same as with the sweet tropical drinks, but it could also take our minds off the normal routine and reveal some interesting details about life and love." Orlando's twinkle was back in place. "Saturday at my place then."

Love, life, tell what it means to love, reveal what lay under cover for so many lonely nights, speak of the heartbeat that quickened every time he walked in the room, the heat rising up his spine, the blood rushing through his body, everything covered up with a shapeless look in another direction. Could he give way to this artistic expression, brush away the hair and look him directly in his brown eyes. He would soon know. And the words carefully formed in his mind.

The Saturday morning the play was set, Orlando woke up from a strange dream. He remembered little, but kept the feeling of a gentle touch on his closed eyes and a whisper telling him about lies and fear, about friendship and love, about passion and truth. He thought the voice slightly familiar, but as soon as he opened his eyes to find out, the sun was shining through the half-closed curtains of his room and the memory slipped from his consciousness.

The people started arriving after eight, never hesitating, smiling, joking as friends do, although some kind of invisible question could be spotted in their eyes. The first group wasn't to begin before ten, so everybody had enough time to get comfortable and have a drink to calm down any possible nervousness.

"Gentlemen", Liv stood facing the sofa, behind her a larger space had been cleared out for the players, just one wooden arm-chair being set up as the king's throne. Orlando, dressed in black pants and a silky red shirt was walking up to the chair in his best royal attitude, the elven grace mixed with a certain slowness in his gestures, unusual for the eerie ages of middlearth, but all too much a habit for common men even kings who try to be seductive. His eyes wandered over the room and as he spoke, to no-one but himself it seemed, his calm voice reached its goal.

"Attend the lords .../ Meantime we shall express our darker purpose." He sat down, erect and solemn. The only thing that seemed to remain Orlando was a sparkle in his eyes as he continued his lines.

"Give me the map there. Know, that we have divided/ In three our kingdom, and ‘tis our fast intent/ To shake all cares and business from the age, /Conferring all on other strengths while we/ Unburdened crawl toward death." Orlando raised his right hand in a welcoming gesture, smiling, not kingly though, but as his own jester and addressed his three fellow players: "Tell me, my friends/ Since now we will divest us both of rule,/ limits of body, cares of opinions,/ Which of you shall we say doth love us most,/ That we our largest bounty may extend/ Where nature doth with merit challenge? Ian,/ The eldest born, speak first."

Having set the pace of action, mixing Lear with his own wish of reality, he had challenged the three others. And as he had spoken about love, accentuating his question with a look for each of them, he leaned back, lasciviously opening his legs a couple of inches and let his right hand drop over the arms of the chair. He smiled at Ian, inviting him to play.

"Sir, I love you more than word can wield the matter", he approached the seated king. "Nothing dearer to my eyesight, ear, and touch"; he raised his hand as if to touch the figure in front of him, but stopped inches short of his face. "Almost beyond what can be valued, close and able,/ No less than a life's dream, with grace, health, beauty, honour", finally his fingers slightly touched Orlando's cheek, "As much as old men e'er lov'd a youthful fantasy", he let his hand drop to his side, but kept looking deep in the brown eyes of the person opposite of him. "A love that makes breath poor and speech unable;/ Beyond all manners, and so much I love you." With these last words, he bowed, placed a feathered kiss on Orlando's forehead, turned and walked ,shaking his head ever so lightly, to where Elijah and Viggo stood. Nobody noticed him.

Viggo smiled as their eyes met and he whispered: "What shall be said. Love, never be silent."

Orlando composed himself, the smile reappeared on his lips and he said: "What says the second here,/ Our dearest friend, endless days' companion? Speak."

Elijah walked up to him, hesitantly at first, close, so close to revealing his desires, but masked in Words not entirely his own, he stepped closer to Orlando, further away from Elijah. "I am made of that self-mettle as my friend", he gestured to Ian, never breaking eye contact with Orlando in front of him, "And prize me at his worth. In my true heart", Elijah dropped on his knees. "I find he named my very deed of love", he laid both hands on Orlando's knees, "Only he came too short of my confession." Elijah slowly walked further, inch after inch, "I am an enemy to all other joys", his hands slipped over the inner side of the pants covering Orlando's tights. "Of tell-tale dreams at night I am possess'd", his hands wandered, touching their way up Orlando's body. "And then I am alone felicitate", coming to a hold an his shoulders, "In your dear companion's love." And with the last ‘love', Elijah closed his eyes, leaned up and kissed Orlando. As their lips touched, nothing but the echoes of words spoken could be heard in the room.

The kiss lasted a lingering moment, wanting, but as Orlando's tongue slipped through opened lips, Elijah drew back, as if awakened from a dream. He stood up and without looking into Orlando's eyes again, he made his way to the other two players.

He wouldn't look in the eyes of his friends. If he had stood in front of a mirror, he doubted that he could have looked himself in the eyes out of fear to see what the others had seen when he had kissed Orlando. But then, he didn't know it himself. Elijah stood there, close to the wall and watched Orlando slip back into the regal role and speak.

"Now our joy and pleasure,/ Although our last and least,/ What can you say to draw/ A third more opulent than your rivals? Speak." Viggo came forward; proud, elegant, almost the mysterious ranger, but something in his eyes said that it was not the dark background that was sufficient for him today.

A hint of a smile crossed Viggo's lips, "Nothing my lord."

"Nothing?"

"Nothing."

"Nothing from the poets mouth, no picture painted for my everlasting glory? Nothing will come of nothing", Orlando was leaning forward in his chair, closer to the figure standing in front of him, straight and erect", Speak again."

"Unhappy that I am. I cannot heave/ My heart into my mouth", Viggo drew closer, looking Orlando straight in his eyes, whispering, "though something else." But he went on for everyone to hear, "I love you/ According to my bound, no more nor less."

Orlando still holding a kingly composure, answered: "How, how my friend? Mend your speech a little", he raised his arm, inviting Viggo to step closer, "Lest you may mar your fortunes."

Viggo smiled, took Orlando's outstretched arm with his left hand and pulled him up and closer to him. "Good my lord,/ You have invented me, mocked me, loved me. I", still holding Orlando's right arm in a firm grip, he placed his free hand on the other man's crotch, "Return those duties back as are right fit." Orlando could hardly restrain himself from moaning as Viggo brushed over the front of his pants.

The first time something had stirred was when Ian had made eye contact shortly before kissing his forehead. And although Orlando knew that there was nothing but acting in those eyes, he felt strangely excited, turned on. By the time Elijah laid hands on him, he couldn't help but harden, those lips speaking the words he wanted to hear, those eyes pleading to him, those hands wandering over his body. And then the kiss. But Elijah drew away the moment he couldn't resist but let fall the part of the king.

Viggo, however, was different, controlled as he pulled down the zipper of Orlando's pants and pushing his hand closer to the pulsing flesh of his king. The whole time his body was hiding the more important aspects of this scene form the other spectators, who could only hear the words continuing to come out of Viggo's mouth.

"I obey you", he gripped harder, slowly pushing upward, "love you", his fingers were circling the crown, "and most honour you." His hand was moving in rhythm with his words, the other holding Orlando close to him, keeping him steady, "They love you all?" As Viggo's hand moved to this last question, Orlando let out an inaudible cry of release and gripped the other man's arm.

Orlando closed his eyes, trying to remember his next line and asked the seemingly calm Viggo, who was already zipping up his pants: "But goes thy heart with this?"

"Ay, my good lord." With these words he pushed the still unsteady figure of the king on his chair, stepped back and smiled.

"So young and so untender?" Orlando was slowly regaining his composure.

"So young, my lord, and true." Viggo hinted a bow to the seated Orlando, licked his fingers, turned his back on him and went passed the others to get a drink from the kitchen.

*****

THE END

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