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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
- 9
- 10
- 11
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.

Chapter Nine

II 3434

The victory on the plain, Talathnen, which came to be known as Dagorlad was muted by the loss of King Oropher and many of those who charged with him. Many of the dead would never be recovered, and the empty plain began to take on the atmosphere of a giant human graveyard, only there were no stones to mark the passing of the lost. The camps of the alliance were moved closer to the mighty gates, and soon plans were made to gain entry to the dark land beyond.

It was a time of victory, and there were those who celebrated. But an equal if not greater number mourned. Reinforcements arrived to take the place of the weary, and so it was that Elrond found himself facing the scenario Thranduil had painted for him when Oropher was first lost to them.

Thranduil had taken up the mantle of his father with such ease that Elrond couldn’t help but admire him. In the midst of his own grief, Elrond found himself grateful for the times when they were alone, and he began to submit to Thranduil much more willingly, finding in it a release from responsibility and, rather ironically, a refuge from pain.

But at last it was time for them to return, to share the joy of what they had achieved, and the burden of what they had sacrificed with those at home. It was all too soon, and it wasn’t until Elrond found himself facing Glorfindel that he realised he didn’t know how to say it. Yet say it he must, for Thranduil had already made clear the punishment for disobedience.

“My Lord,” Glorfindel said in greeting when he noticed Elrond watching him. There were a few days yet before they would leave the field, and it really couldn’t wait any longer.

“My friend,” Elrond replied, “I need to ask you a kind of favour.” There. At least some of it was out. Elrond turned away to glance beyond the plain, back towards the kinder lands they hailed from, imagining how Imladris would look now at the end of autumn.

“You are not coming with me,” Glorfindel noted, making Elrond jump in surprise and guilt. He turned to look, and the two smiled at each other.

“No. You knew already, didn’t you?”

For a moment he recalled that night Thranduil had bade him to betray his desire with cries and moans, and wondered now if he had been heard. No one had intimated anything since, yet still… He sighed, smiling a little as Glorfindel nodded at him.

“Yes. You are one of my oldest friends. Should I not know?” Glorfindel grinned amiably, and Elrond shook his head.

“Of course. But it would be pleasant if you would at least allow me to confide in you,” Elrond teased.

“Ah, then forgive me. I thought you were about to find it difficult.” Elrond narrowed his eyes, and Glorfindel continued, folding his arms as he straightened up, his own gaze echoing Elrond’s a few moments ago to look back over the land they were soon to travel. “I may be wrong, but I believe you are going to ask me to lead those injured and weary back to their homes. You are going to ask me to speak with those famlies who have suffered losses, and tell them how bravely their loved ones fought.”

They looked at each other now; both of them wore the same melancholy smile. “Yes, I am.”

“You are going to ask me to do this alone, because you are going to return with King Thranduil.”

“Yes.” Elrond closed his eyes briefly, afraid of seeing accusation and disapproval in Glorfindel, and then he felt a heavy reassuring hand on his shoulder.

“I will do this for you, because I am your friend.” Glorfindel paused, and Elrond heard him sigh affectionately. “And because I know how much he meant to you.”

Elrond was sure he couldn’t open his eyes now, but somehow he did, and he smiled at Glorfindel again as he clasped the hand that rested on his shoulder in gratitude. “Thank you.”

“You are welcome,” Glorfindel returned, amiable as ever. When the moment was over, and Elrond turned away, Glorfindel called to him again and he looked around. “Just don’t be late,” he advised with a wink, and Elrond laughed as he walked away.

When they did set out, it was a long slow march back to the north of the Greenwood, and with each passing day, Elrond felt the truth of his situation a little more. Now Thranduil’s words came back again and again as if to taunt him – when this is over, I will take you to my home as a captive and a plaything.

They still slept together on the journey, and Thranduil still demanded his submission. The one time he had mentioned Nimbrethil, Thranduil had laughed throatily, and assured him that she would find him just as entertaining.

His ideas of what would happen were being torn down one by one. The idea that Thranduil would need him for guidance was quickly becoming laughable. He did indeed possess the same charisma as his father, and he dealt with those under his command so efficiently that Elrond began to feel embarrassed for having thought he would need help at all.

At last the day arrived, and Elrond strode out in front of the first of their returning troops to meet Nimbrethil outside the caves, embracing her with decorum and gravity before watching her turn to her husband and give him a relieved kiss in welcome. Private words were exchanged between the two in whispers before Thranduil bowed his head to rest it on Nimbrethil’s shoulder; the first sign of vulnerability Elrond had seen in him since the battle began.

With a few last orders to the elves that were still waiting, Thranduil efficiently sent them about their business as he allowed his wife to lead him inside by the hand. Elrond followed, at a loss for what to do or where to go, feeling a sudden sadness because deep down he had almost expected to find Oropher here, even though he had never set foot inside the caves before.

A couple of elves attended him carrying his belongings, but these were quickly dismissed by Nimbrethil, and soon the three of them were alone as they wandered down the torchlit corridors, Thranduil’s hand still in hers as if for guidance.

Any doubts Elrond might have had about Nimbrethil’s capabilities as a hostess were soon put to rest when she spoke to him about the journey, her voice calm and quiet in the corridor. In fact, the entire place began to feel quite familiar and safe. Elrond frowned and let his fingers drag over the wall as they passed. The caves had been monstrous caverns at first, and the walls had been put in by the people of the Greenwood so that now it did indeed resemble the interior of a palace or castle – except for the fact there were no windows. Still, the atmosphere lingered, that of ancient quiet and stillness… Elrond smiled. It was like a library.

“These rooms will be yours for the moment, Lord Elrond. Should you require anything, there is a bell which you can use to call a servant. They will attend to your needs.” Elrond paid attention again and followed Nimbrethil into a suite of rooms that seemed quite light and airy, despite the absence of windows. The effect was obtained by mirrors that caught and reflected the light of the torches of course, and Elrond nodded and sighed.

“Take your time, Lord Elrond,” she continued kindly. “Rest, sleep, bathe. And when you are ready, ask to see us.”

They were leaving him alone, and suddenly there was a small blossom of panic. Elrond hadn’t really been alone since Oropher’s death. Since then he had spent seemingly every moment of free time with Thranduil – pleasing him. Elrond tried to see back out of the door into the corridor, looking for Thranduil until he realised he was looking past Nimbrethil to do it, and he felt a crushing sense of guilt for what he had done and what he had taken.

“I am sorry,” he said to her without thinking, realising somewhat belatedly that she had lost her father-in-law, and that he hadn’t acknowledged that, never mind offered her his condolences and sympathy. To his surprise, Nimbrethil laughed lightly, turning her head to look back out at the corridor where Thranduil waited.

“When you feel ready, come to us,” she said again, ignoring his apology as if he hadn’t uttered it. Elrond felt totally lost, and so he just nodded, sweeping his gaze around the room they were in as though he was lost. His possessions had been grouped near a desk that faced a large fireplace, and by the time he looked around again, it was to find that he was quite alone, the door to the suite of rooms shut and his hosts gone.

With a sigh of defeat and despair, Elrond explored the suite of rooms he had been given. They were more than adequate, perhaps they could even be considered opulent. Rugs covered the floors, woven in such intricate patterns that they were works of art on their own. The feeling he had earlier of a library came back to him now, the hushed clinking of the water clocks adding to the silence but not alleviating it. Of course, he would need clocks in here, simply to tell the time of day. Who was to say if it was dark or light outside?

Feeling claustrophobic, Elrond completed his survey of the rooms but for one door, which he opened expecting to find a wardrobe or a storage room. Instead, what he saw beyond the boundary of the door took his breath away, and Elrond walked forward as if hypnotised, hardly daring to breathe in case the vision might vanish and leave.

The door had opened onto a small balcony, hardly big enough for three people to stand abreast. Yet it was easily large enough to accommodate him, a comfortable iron chair, and some strange plants that seemed to be thriving in the half-light.

Beyond the railing was a wide-open space, and far below others could be seen going about their business. At last Elrond saw the other side to life in the Greenwood. This reminded him of his first sight of Caras Galadhon. The air was fresher and cooler out here, as though he had truly stepped out of a window onto an outside balcony. The light too… Elrond looked up, and far above he saw the space that allowed light to filter down into the caves.

Looking to the right and left of him he saw that his balcony appeared to be built into the side of an underground cliff. Much of this must have been carved out over centuries by water, and indeed, the semi-circular nature of the giant cavern seemed to bear that theory out. Other balconies led out onto the view of the cavern below too, but they were all unoccupied at present, leaving Elrond to wonder which of them belonged to Thranduil… which of them had belonged to Oropher.

Turning away from the amazing spectacle, Elrond went back into his rooms and closed the balcony door. Now he was at a loss, but then a knock startled him and he crossed the room in large strides to admit several servants carrying large jugs of heated water for his bath.

“The lady has sent us to attend you, Lord Elrond,” one of the maids said softly in explanation. Nodding, Elrond followed to the bathroom, watching them go about their work filling the bath and adding a mixture of oils that sweetened the air and reminded him somehow of Oropher. When it was done a couple of the serving maids stood around waiting expectantly, until Elrond realised what they were waiting for.

“That will be all, thank you,” he said, understanding that they would attend to him personally if he wished. With a curt nod, the maid who had spoken to him when she entered waved to her companion and they left him alone in his rooms.

Alone.

Elrond walked up the couple of steps to the edge of the bath and sat beside it fully dressed, his long legs stretched out over the steps carelessly, swirling his fingers in the hot water as though he were lost. He looked around, feeling suddenly self-conscious though he knew no one was watching him. Then, angered at his own foolishness he stood and began to undress, still feeling the uncomfortable prickling of eyes watching his every move.

“Foolish!” he said sternly to himself in the silence, and he knew it was, but as he stepped into the bath naked, he imagined for one moment that Oropher was watching him, and he closed his eyes as he breathed in the sweet scented steam, letting the warmth of the water enfold and embrace his body.

Why hadn’t Oropher insisted on showing him the palace? This wondrous place could have been theirs… relaxing into daydreams, Elrond imagined taking Oropher on the giant bed with its satin sheets and waking with him there in the morning. He imagined the two of them on the balcony, and knew that Oropher would have loved to tease him there, making him fear that others would see… It was such a compelling daydream that Elrond lowered his head under the water to escape it. When he came up he was still alone, and he couldn’t be sure if he was crying, because the water too ran down his face like tears.

When he was clean and refreshed, and much more relaxed, Elrond wandered vaguely around the room that could best be described as a study. He wasn’t tired enough yet to seek reverie, certain that alone, his mind would torment him before he slept, and so he searched for something to occupy his thoughts.

He ran his fingers over the spines of the books on the small bookshelf, smiling at their titles, each of them books that were known to him. Laughing when he came upon a particularly loved volume, he pulled it from its place happily. It was a story book, something he and Oropher had read together in Lindon so long ago the memory was almost gone. He walked to the small desk as he leafed through it, smiling in remembered happiness at each of the stories, remembering a time when he could be touched by stories.

Then he frowned. Something was wrong here. Leafing back, Elrond noted where the tengwar changed, and settled down in his chair to read it carefully. Before long, it became clear that Oropher had written this section, hidden in the middle of a favourite book, and Elrond became full of nervous fear, shutting the book with a soft thud and putting it on the desk to stare at it as though it might rise up like a snake and bite him.

When nothing changed, and the only sound in his rooms was the continuing measurement of the still silence by the waterclocks, Elrond picked up the book again, more carefully this time. Taking a deep breath, Elrond turned to the centre pages and began to read again. There was a decanter on the desk beside a small goblet, and Elrond gratefully poured some of the strong wine to assist him while he read through this personal account.

It was as he feared, and Elrond found himself reading of Oropher’s hopes and fears since he came to the north of Greenwood the Great. And so he had the confirmation that hurt his soul. Oropher had known all along that the War of the Last Alliance would cost him his life.

… Sometimes I question myself why I came here. All seems hopeless, all seems as dust before me. These plans that I have, that I make real – I cannot fully engage my soul in them. Every soldier, every day is one more step towards what I know will come to pass.

I wish I could confide in someone, I… Elrond comes tomorrow, and again I will not tell him. What difference would it make? The sacrifice is what is required. No, it would make him miserable and me more so. Again he will refuse to stay within these caves, and perhaps that is safer. Were he to wander in these rooms he may pick up this book – but I must have some outlet.

Every day I count the centuries I have seen, and I count those still to come, and it is so far away… and it is much too close. I am greedy for more. I resent it. I resent knowing that I will choose to leave those I love. But what else is there to do? I know what I saw… one day Elrond will understand.

I will be reborn in Valinor long before Thranduil sails to the west, and when he meets with Authiriel and I on the shores of that blessed land then we will know peace, and the sacrfice will seem like but a short space of time…

Elrond shut the book with a decisive snap, taking another long drink of the strong wine. It hurt to hear Oropher envisage that meeting with his beloved… It hurt because Oropher was leaving him, but going to her. So be it. Before he left the small study to go to the bed, Elrond replaced the book carefully on the shelf. Perhaps it was right to show it to Thranduil, but it would also be cruel. Now, when it was too late to say goodbye to his father or to explore possible escapes from fate, it would be cruel to show his father’s truth to him.

Feeling somewhat betrayed by Oropher’s words, Elrond crawled naked under the covers and waited for reverie to claim him, which it did an hour or so later, after his mind had tormented him by pointing out that he too was guilty of betrayal, and with Oropher’s own son, no less.

When he rose, feeling a little more alive and animated, Elrond rang for one of the maids to bring him fresh water for washing. When he was done he dressed slowly in his formal robes, readying himself for the meeting with the new King and Queen. His preparation took on the feel of a ritual. Nothing good could come of this. Had Thranduil confided their ill-timed affair to Nimbrethil? It didn’t matter. Elrond would take the blame fully upon himself if it should come to that. Then, perhaps, he would go home to meet with Glorfindel and rest for a week before going back to the front where he was needed.

At last he was ready, and he rang again to be led to the room he would meet Nimbrethil and Thranduil in, clasping his hands in front of him in supressed nervous dread. To his surprise the servant was dismissed when he came upon them, leaving the three of them alone in a kind of formal reception room. Elrond stood before the two, looking to Thranduil first, then Nimbrethil. Both of them were seated on slightly raised thrones before him, studying him as only a King and Queen could.

“Your majesties,” Elrond said quietly with a bow of respect. Nimbrethil laughed, and Elrond looked up at her, disconcerted.

“You see, my dear?” Thranduil murmured. “Do you see his potential?”

“Oh, yes,” Nimbrethil replied with a satisfied sigh as she stood and walked to stand before him. Completely lost, Elrond gazed past her at Thranduil. She wasn’t as tall as him, which made the way she ran a single finger down the gap between the folds of his robes all the stranger. Thranduil only sat, smirking at him, and Elrond took a step back in confusion.

“What? What are you doing?” Elrond asked them both, keeping his gaze on Thranduil at first, then bestowing it upon Nimbrethil.

“Be quiet,” she advised, the timbre of her voice deepening in a way that commanded respect and obedience. “You know how to be quiet, do you not?”

“I…” Elrond was mesmerised by the look she gave him, and he was dismayed to find himself trembling when she raised a finger to his lips in playful dominance.

“Shhh…” she reminded him, and Elrond closed his eyes as he felt her hands on him again, this time pushing the robes from his shoulders. “There is no need to be afraid, Lord Elrond. I know what you have been doing, and at the moment I have no intention of punishing you for it.”

“No…” Elrond swallowed, shaken to the core of his being by the casual revelation that she knew. “N-no punishment?”

“No, not yet. Though you may earn it if you are very good.” Elrond gasped and opened his eyes as his outer robes fell to the floor in a puddle of material at his feet. Nimbrethil held his astonished gaze for a moment before turning to her husband and nodding at him.

“You are quite right, beloved. I think I will enjoy him. I think we both will.” At the inference in her tone, Elrond couldn’t hold back a whimper of fear and desire. This was all wrong! He closed his eyes and took another step back, and another, until he felt himself pressing against a familiar hard masculine body. Thranduil had moved. Now he placed his large warm hands on Elrond’s waist and nuzzled his ear.

“Come, green leaf… be calm now. You didn’t think I was going to keep you all to myself, did you?”

To be continued…

Author’s Note: Thank you for reading, I hope you are enjoying it. Comments/constructive criticism welcome. Please review! :)
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The Teacher