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The Teacher	By : pip Category: -Multi-Age > Slash - Male/Male Views: 14764 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 1
Disclaimer: I do not own the Lord of the Rings (and associated) book series, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
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Rating: NC-17
Pairings: Oropher/Elrond, Thranduil/Elrond, Legolas/Elrond, Elrond/Celebrían, Elrond/OFC
Warnings: Slash, het, graphic sex, bdsm, D/s, bondage, canonical character death
Disclaimer: This is a work of fanfiction. I do not own the elves within or middle earth. They belong to Tolkien, and I am just borrowing them for a short while. I make no money from this.
Summary: A fanciful, smutty take on what Elrond’s story might have been through the ages.

Author’s Note:Ok… this is the very beginning of a rather large undertaking written for Esteliel. She gave me a request for Christmas, and before I knew it, the idea had grown so big I realised it was going to take quite a few chapters to tell it all.

I hope anyone who reads will enjoy it.

This hasn’t been beta read. Comments encouraged and appreciated.

The Teacher

Prologue

III 140

“Prince Legolas Thranduilion, my Lord!” Elrond rose from his seat to greet the newcomer with a measured and sincere smile of welcome. The young elven Prince had been in Imladris for a full day already, and Elrond had deemed it appropriate to leave that small amount of time to allow the Prince to recover from his journey, and to find his bearings. It had also helped him, as he strove to come to terms with the memories the visit evoked.

He walked from behind his desk and swept his arm to indicate two comfortable chairs which had been set before the fire. According to his express wishes, his Chief Counsellor, Erestor, withdrew quietly, along with the Captain of Imladris’ army, Glorfindel, and soon they were quite alone.

Elrond smiled a little. Legolas looked even more like Oropher than Thranduil did and it made his heart ache for a moment before he poured them both a glass of wine. “Forgive the lateness of the hour I choose for this meeting, your Highness,” he said, looking up for a moment to catch the icy blue of Legolas’ eyes upon him. “But as you can imagine, with Celebrían away in Lothlórien, the tasks she takes upon herself fall on me in her absence.” His words were light, but in truth, Elrond always felt a little lost without her. The years of his life before Celebrían had been full… He stopped his thoughts before they could lead him back to that fateful day once more. But now, when she was away, he was alone.

“Of course, Lord Elrond,” the Prince said with a smile of his own. “I have taken the opportunity of free time to rest and reflect. There is peace at the moment, but it is still such a long journey.” He took the goblet Elrond offered him with a hand that did not shake, his calm blue gaze so disconcerting and forthright for a moment that he resembled his father, and Elrond shook his head slightly. Those same eyes laughed at him in silence as he sought to gather his suddenly scattered thoughts, as if they knew… but Legolas couldn’t, could he?

“How is the King? I hope he and the Queen are quite well.” It was a pleasantry, but he watched avidly for the answer as he relaxed back in his chair, taking a sip of the Miruvor to compensate for his nervousness at meeting the son of his former lover.

“Yes, thank you,” Legolas nodded. “They are very well. My father wishes to extend an open invitation to you to visit at any time.” Elrond nodded at the expected message. “He is a little disappointed that your visits are so infrequent of late. Indeed, I have not seen you in my home since I was small. But you have responsibilities here, I see.”

How well he remembered that last visit. Legolas had indeed been small, and for a moment Elrond feared the truth of this meeting. The King could not really expect something of such frivolity from him, could he? Looking into Legolas’ eyes there was no answer. Such an impenetrable gaze; all three of them had shared it, and he couldn’t predict what the outcome would be, except that if Thranduil asked it of him… Elrond swallowed. If it was asked of him…

“But I trust that you have read his letter, have you not?” Legolas’ words broke into his thoughts, and Elrond mentally came back to the present again. He had indeed read the letter, feverishly, wanting a word or two of something – not comfort or love, those he shared with his family now – but… something. Something of regret perhaps.

“Yes, I have.” There had been nothing though besides pleasantries and empty turns of phrase, and Elrond had felt the parchment as ice in his hands, unaware of how much he had wanted some measure of feeling to be there until it was absent.

“He truly misses you,” Legolas said softly, one eyebrow quirking up a little as if in mischief. “Whether he admits to it or not.” So he wasn’t completely unaware of the truth? Elrond silently thanked the Prince for those words with every fibre of his being, feeling a warmth in his heart that had nothing to do with the sip of wine he had consumed.

“Thank you,” Elrond replied, closing his eyes for a brief moment as he fought the urge to smile in elation. He was not forgotten either, then. He opened them again when Legolas cleared his throat.

“There is another letter.” He reached into the folds of his tunic and pulled out a small scroll tied with a thin green ribbon. “I was told to deliver this into your hand personally. Perhaps you will find some of what you seek within.” Legolas shrugged nonchalantly. “Perhaps not. I didn’t read it. I cannot say for certain what it contains.”

Slowly, Elrond set his own goblet to rest on the table, beside the decanter, and turned to reach out for the missive Legolas offered to him. As he took it, the soft brush of Legolas’ fingers against his own made him look into the Prince’s eyes. He felt he was giving too much away. Didn’t Legolas already seem to know what he hungered for? But then the parchment was in his hand and Elrond sat back, fingering it thoughtfully before untying the ribbon and beginning to read in silence.

He began slowly, taking in the informal address with a tender smile, but then his eyes greedily began to skim the contents, and before he could stop to think he had stood up abruptly in shock, his knees hitting the side of the small table, knocking the half-empty goblet of miruvor to the floor. It all seemed to happen so slowly, yet Legolas was there immediately, righting the goblet and then taking hold of his upper arms as if in alarm.

“Are you all right, Lord Elrond?” he asked mildly, his voice and the calm blue of his eyes a stark contrast to the drama of his actions. Still, Elrond couldn’t see anything in his eyes save for impassivity. He refused to look down again at the parchment he still held tightly in his grip. Fingers curling, it almost crumpled in his hands as he swallowed.

They were the same height, and yet the Prince was so much younger than him. This couldn’t be! But it could… because they had been so young too. Younger than him. “Do you know the purpose of your visit here?” Elrond demanded, a little emotion in his voice at last, as if he pleaded for an answering glimpse of warmth in Legolas. Those hands were still on his arms, as if unwilling to let him go, and despite wanting to step away, Elrond simply couldn’t do it.

“I do,” he replied quietly, for a moment his reflective gaze cracked to show a flicker of concern.

“And are you aware, then, some of what this…” Elrond swallowed, “…‘letter’ contains?” Legolas smiled hesitantly and nodded once.

“I am.”

Elrond looked down then, away from those blue eyes that seemed to see into him so easily. But all there was to look at was the letter. Not only the words he longed to hear from a former lover and friend, but also a set of instructions from someone who had for a short while become something more than a lover or a friend, or even yet a teacher. Instructions. Elrond swallowed thickly, before shaking his head in denial.

“I cannot do this!” he accused the letter. “You cannot ask me to do this!” He looked at Legolas again, and saw something like sympathy in his eyes. “Please, I must be alone.” The Prince nodded and let him go at last, for which Elrond was exceedingly grateful. The nearness of Legolas was beginning to affect him, and combined with the contents of Thranduil’s letter to him, it made him feel weak and dizzy.

“Of course, Lord Elrond,” he began, “there is a choice for you to make.”

“There is?” he asked absently, walking to look out of the eastward-facing window with a slow smile of amusement, and also willing devotion.

“Of course there is a choice,” the Prince stated in clipped tones, making Elrond shiver as he recalled a similar voice from so long ago. But then the voice became warmer, and he was pulled back to the present. “There may not be a choice in your hands, but I will give one to you regardless.” Legolas shrugged. “I don’t claim to understand this, but my father assures me it does not cause you distress. I can only trust him. But should you find yourself unwilling, I will not hold it against you.”

With that said, Legolas left the room before he could reply, leaving Elrond alone. There was no choice, Elrond thought as he held the letter in his hands, looking out of the window accusingly, as if the King could see him. He smiled then, almost bitterly, feeling something inside him give in to the inevitable, and understanding that in spite of his shock, he wanted to do it. He wanted to please, and he wanted to be told what to do, just once more.

Elrond half-elven smiled secretly at that; every time was the last time.

Quickly, Elrond crossed the room and locked his door, then he calmly sat behind his desk to read through the letter more carefully.

That night, Elrond of Imladris dreamed of the past – when he had been someone else – when he had been Elrond of Lindon…

To be continued…

Author’s Note: Thank you for reading, I hope you are enjoying it. Please review and rate!
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The Teacher

The Teacher