Adult-FanFiction.org : Lord of the Rings

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
- 10
- 11
- 12
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:

To Binky: Sorry, lass.. I've left that cliffhanger for now and given you another one *eg* Don't worry - Elrond's recollections will continue in time, but I thought that it was Legolas' turn for a change ;)

To everyone else: Ok, here you have the next part of Elrond’s story. I hope you enjoy it! :)

Chapter Ten

III 140

Elrond took a deep breath before the closed door, quickly glancing around to make sure he was alone. Though it wasn’t unseemly for him to call on an esteemed visitor, he knew he would be embarrassed to be caught. Relieved to find himself alone in the corridor, he raised his hand to the door to knock. In his heart were all the memories he had relived, in his head Thranduil’s letter was memorised, word for word, in his soul uncertainty. Three of them. Elrond swallowed and closed his eyes, knowing it was wrong, but he knocked.

It took far too long for Legolas to answer his knock, and his heart stuttered in his chest. What if the Prince was not even here? Sudden doubt assailed him for his decision, because this was unforgivable. How would he deserve Celebrían’s blessing after this? He was almost preparing to turn and walk away when the door opened, and the Prince stood there looking at him.

“Lord Elrond,” he said, his voice sounding distant and much too polite, as always. “Come in.”

This is an invitation.

The words from the beginning of the letter appeared in his mind as if to taunt him while Legolas opened the door wide and stood to one side to let him pass.

Without speaking, Elrond swept into the room purposefully, only to remain standing seemingly lost in the middle of it as Legolas quietly shut the door and came to stand before him. Wordlessly, Elrond looked into Legolas’ cool blue eyes.

If you could be with me, without actually being with me…

“Have you had a change of heart?” Legolas asked, his composure so perfect that Elrond shook his head slowly, still hearing Thranduil’s words in his mind.

If you could lead someone, whose place in life will be to lead…

Legolas smiled, showing nothing of his thoughts, moving closer, and Elrond stayed still. It took all the courage he possessed not to back away, and yet it was easier like this to begin with. He had wondered how he would encourage Legolas if it came to that.

If you are indeed a teacher…

Closed eyes, hands that gently held his face, fingertips soft and electric. Inexperienced lips brushed against his with a soft sigh of contentment. And Elrond was the one who trembled with his eyes wide open.

“Like this?” Legolas murmured against his lips.

“Yes,” Elrond whispered back, and then, unforgiveably. “Taste me with your tongue.”

Legolas pulled back a little, his eyes opening in surprise. Elrond only stared back, seemingly helpless, captivated by more than the beauty of the Mirkwood Prince.

Will you do these things for me? Will you let him taste you while you dream of me, and of my father? Will you show these things to a familiar stranger with truth in your heart?

Apparently having made up his mind that Elrond was not jesting, Legolas came close to him again, and the aggressive nature of the kiss this time took Elrond’s breath away. His own lips parted willingly for Legolas, and this time it was no tentative touch. Memories of Oropher and Thranduil both came to him, making him as addicted to this as to them. There were echoes of them both in Legolas’ touch.

Be my teacher, my friend, my entrusted… Is there a gift you have left you haven’t given to one of us? Beloved…

Elrond moaned into Legolas’ mouth, feeling his body go weak as the combination of Legolas’ physical presence and Thranduil’s words conspired to dominate him. Even Oropher’s memory hovered in the background, because they had sprung from him.

I would consider it acceptance of my invitation if you touch him in return…

Elrond hesistated, his fingers twitching in uncertainty while he longed to pull Legolas closer to him.

Can you be seduced after all of this time? Can you be tempted by the one that follows me, as I followed my father… as you follow all of us.

As if he couldn’t help it, Elrond reached out and placed his hands on Legolas’ hips, drawing him further forward. Both of them wore formal robes, satin and velvet slid between their bodies, unable to disguise the heat they each generated. Again, Elrond moaned, this time heared a similar muffled sound from Legolas as the awareness spread throughout their bodies.

Our lives and our history are entwined with yours. You know that is true.

At last, the kiss broke, and Elrond was free again. Free to drink in the sight of Legolas with slightly parted, reddened lips, a flush on his cheeks that didn’t come from being outdoors. How was it he could look so lost and distant at the same time? For a fleeting moment Oropher’s visage was superimposed on Legolas, and Elrond closed his eyes. Yes, because Oropher had seemed as fey as the young Prince at times. And hadn’t he been reliving those times?

An amused chuckle spilled out of Legolas’ lips, one that belonged to Thranduil, and Elrond forced his eyes open again as Legolas dragged one thumb over his lips, still wearing that bewitching look as though it belonged to him. He was a combination of them both, but he was not only that.

“Elrond, you look…” Legolas stopped and frowned a little, tilting his head as if to figure out a puzzle. “Different,” he continued at last. “You make me want…” Again he stopped and this time instead of attempting to continue his hips moved against Elrond, disturbing the easy grip of his hands, making his hardness jab into Elrond’s thigh as if to prove his point.

As you give yourself to this, and as I write, know that I am imagining it. How your hands feel on my hips, how you look when you are defeated, how you moan when you are mastered.

At the thought that he was going to give himself to Legolas, Elrond swallowed. He was going to let Legolas possess him. He couldn’t think of anything he wanted more… except perhaps one thing. He leaned forward, tucking his head underneath Legolas’ as submissively as possible while he kissed the Prince’s neck, unable to help himself imagining Legolas beneath him, writhing in lust like Oropher would. Still in command but not in control. A tremulous moan came to his ears, and he grinned against the soft skin, using his teeth to nip gently.

“Enough…” Legolas groaned, the vibration of his voice a buzz against Elrond’s lips. His forearms rested on Elrond’s shoulders now and his hands still cradled Elrond close to him.

“You will have to let me go,” Elrond whispered wickedly, half hoping Legolas could not do it.

“No,” he said childishly, and Elrond laughed against the Prince’s throat. “I can’t,” Legolas admitted, “but…”

“But what?” Elrond questioned, slowly licking up towards Legolas’ ear diligently while the young elf trembled. At last they were even then, and Elrond began to feel like the elder, as he should have done from the first.

Legolas stretched out his neck with a little sigh of pleasure. “Do you not think we should lock the door?”

Elrond was away immediately, his robes whispering in protest around his feet as he strode quickly to the door and tested the handle, his heart hammering in fear that they could have been discovered. It didn’t budge. For a single moment he stood staring at the unopened door, not understanding – then he turned.

Legolas was no longer stood in the middle of the floor. Now he was seated at the other end of the small sitting room in a chair of leather and ebony, holding up the key for Elrond to see. As Elrond watched in stunned silence, Legolas put the key on the table beside the chair with a clink and poured himself a small goblet of the miruvor waiting there. That otherworldly, distant look was back, and he looked up and caught Elrond staring at him.

Deliberately, he put down the goblet and his hands moved to untie the sash that held his robes together. He raised one eyebrow inquisitively. “Am I wrong or do you have instructions, Lord Elrond?”

“I…” Elrond began, leaning back heavily against the door, the illusion of superiority taken from him so easily that he wanted to fall to his knees.

I hear you as I always hear you, and I know you ask. What should I do? He is royalty. Kneel before him.

“I have instructions, your highness,” Elrond managed weakly, crossing the room on legs that felt like water as Legolas graced him with that same steady expression.

He fell to his knees awkwardly, hardly able to keep the eye contact. Legolas’ hands moved in quick, jerky movements as he exposed himself, and Elrond licked his lips. He placed his hands on Legolas’ knees, and saw a flash of something that was almost fear in Legolas’ expression but he made no protest.

Unable to keep from looking any longer, Elrond felt his gaze drawn down to Legolas’ hard flesh as the Prince caressed himself with one hand. He eased the Prince’s knees apart so that he could shuffle further forward on his knees, his eyes narrowing in lust for what he was about to do.

He is not accustomed to being worshipped, but you do it so well I think he will grow accustomed to the idea in time.

“Kiss me,” Legolas pleaded, but Elrond didn’t look up. Instead he leaned forward to do as he was bid, placing the first kiss on the tip of Legolas’ shaft as if this was indeed worship. The kiss turned into something more when he tasted the slightly salty fluid that leaked from Legolas and without thinking too much Elrond sighed, sealed his lips around the head of Legolas’ shaft and suckled.

“Ohhh!”

Elrond paid no mind to Legolas’ sudden moan, or to the hands that tangled in his hair as if to pull him closer. All he could think of was what he was doing.

“More…” Legolas demanded, and Elrond obeyed that command gladly, taking more of Legolas into his mouth so that he could slide his tongue against the velvety hardness. He continued to suckle until the fluid couldn’t keep up with his hunger, then lifted his head a little and let Legolas slip from between his lips. Bringing his hand up, he grasped hold of Legolas’ shaft to keep it in place as he dragged the flat of his tongue over the underside, taking pleasure in his service to the Prince.

After the slow drawn out movement he looked up and found Legolas looking down at him with darkened eyes. “Do it again,” he commanded, and Elrond obliged, allowing Legolas deeper this time so that the Prince swore and moaned again, bucking his hips up from the chair slightly. Elrond was aware of their clothing. He was still fully dressed, and Legolas nearly so. Strangely it made the act he was performing all the more exciting and illicit and he moaned as he rubbed his tongue against Legolas, loving the feel of demanding hands in his hair, pulling him further down.

He took a preparatory breath and then flattened his tongue before swallowing Legolas, loving it to be used this way once more by somone who should be a stranger, but somehow wasn’t.

Please me, half elf… give me a reason to moan your name as I write this. Make me miss you… your tender care, your attention to detail, your dedication… Let me use you again...

Elrond tried to moan, but Legolas was too deep and the sound was trapped inside him. To Legolas it must have felt like reluctance and the hands in his hair loosened in sudden insecurity.

“I am sorry, Lord Elrond!” he said quickly, already pulling away. Unable to answer, Elrond lifted the hand that still rested on Legolas knee and placed it over the hand in his hair, pushing down. Legolas either understood or couldn’t stop himself and the hard length in his throat moved forward then back a couple of time before pulsing in orgasm as Legolas cried out in pleasure.

Elrond swallowed around him, pulling back to get the last taste of Legolas on his tongue before it was over and swallowing that too before taking another breath. It had lasted perhaps a minute, probably less, and Elrond looked up only to find a vision from his dreams awaiting him.

It was Oropher who sat there, undone by him, satiated and thoroughly pleased with it. His half-lidded eyes stared at Elrond, dark and inscrutable, and Elrond felt his own lust overtake him.

He grasped hold of Legolas’ knees and pulled him forward on the chair, enjoying the way the Prince inhaled sharply. Strangely, it wasn’t Oropher’s name that came from his lips as he raised himself on his knees to thrust against the soft and willing body before him.

“Legolas,” he groaned, unable to stop, wishing he was unclothed as he felt his own shaft sliding between Legolas’ buttocks, stopped from touching him by layers of silk and satin. “I need you!” he vowed, leaning over as he began to thrust into that welcoming crevice, achieving nothing more than rubbing against the Prince like an animal.

Legolas’ hands gripped the arms of the chair to steady himself, perched dangerously on the edge of it, the very image of Elrond’s lost love from centuries ago.

“Kiss me,” he pleaded again, coming round a little and seemingly understanding. Elrond leaned closer to Legolas’s lips, still thrusting as though he really could take the Prince with all of their clothes still on. “Kiss me, Peredhil,” Legolas whispered as their lips touched, his aggression perfect and unexpected, but so like his grandfather.

Groaning, Elrond came without any further ado, holding Legolas close to him greedily, arms curling around his back as though he were a possession or a doll. Legolas was still kissing him but Elrond couldn’t respond to it and he let Legolas take what he wanted as he came down from the high, finally breaking the kiss so that he could lay his head on Legolas’ shoulder.

“Elrond…” A voice broke into his satisfied state, amused and confident. It made him smile.

“Mmm?” he murmured back, kissing the skin that was conveniently close to his lips.

“You will have to let me go,” the voice suggested, and Elrond sighed.

“No,” he replied, feeling childish, hearing the laughter and smiling at it. He did let Legolas go however, and then sat back on his heels with a sigh.

The Prince stood over him now, looking down regally, his robes closed and tidy once more. He offered his hand and Elrond took it, regaining his feet unsteadily. At Legolas’ constant regard, Elrond looked away, realising how out of control he had been.

“I think that is a beginning,” Legolas noted darkly, finally revealing how much he knew, even if he was inexperienced, and Elrond bowed his head. “You do have further instructions, do you not?”

Some of them flitted across Elrond’s mind now and he shivered in arousal even though he was spent. “Yes.”

“Good.” Legolas began to lead Elrond to the bedroom by the hand, and the elven Lord had no strength left to resist. “We can explore those after I decide whether you are in trouble or not.”

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