As his eyes idly follow the puff of smoke vanishing into the air, his mind replays something that has been bugging him since the chat he's had with that journalist yesterday.

They'd been talking about Boromir, about his place in the Fellowship, about the lure the Ring exerted on him.

"Well, Boromir's a flawed hero," the journalist had commented. "But then so many of the characters you played in your career have been like that.. flawed heros.. fallen angels.."

Sean tips his face up to catch the sun, eyes closed, thinking..

A flawed hero... What the fuck does that mean? Sean asks himself, inhaling deeply and blowing the smoke out explosively, almost angrily.

There is no such thing as a flawed hero.. A hero is a hero, he can't have flaws.. At least when he's the being the hero in front of the world..

But heroes get time off now and then.. They get to be simple human beings now and then.. And at the same time fallen angels get to remember that they used to be angels now and then..

There was a long dark hair on his pillow when he woke up this morning, the only trace left of the presence of someone with him during the night.

That hair was also a contradiction, just like the flawed hero concept the journalist was rattling about.

It was Viggo's hair, only it was not really Viggo's hair, it was Aragorn's hair.. Long, dyed dark, nothing like the blond hair Viggo had sported when he'd first arrived in New Zealand..

Viggo.. Aragorn.. One man, two men, the same man.. The perfect hero who would come apart at the end of each day and become the man who would spend the night in a fallen angel's bed begging to be held, to be taken, to be loved for his flaws.. The man who needed someone to make him whole again each night so that he could go back to being the perfect hero in the morning.

Sean drags deeply on the cigarette, narrowing his eyes, then smiles into the morning sun.

A flawed hero, a fallen angel, still someone who can heal a hero.