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The Teacher - Missing Scenes	By : pip Category: -Multi-Age > General Views: 4116 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Tolkien's world, middle earth, Lord of the Rings or any characters. I make no money from this.

Chapter List
- 10
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- 12
Author's Note: For CL, who wanted to see a more dominant Legolas. Here is a little bit of Legolas/Galion, written before Elrond's arrival after Legolas is injured while on patrol.

Son of the Greenwood
It had been more than a week, and Legolas was well and whole, yet he was not given leave to return to his patrol. Though he wished it, he could not disobey and return to the borders now. Something strange had happened to his father, and it worried him. For long hours Thranduil occupied his throne, in the same position, never moving, seeing nothing. Legolas wished Elrond were here with them to observe this.
Legolas had watched him night after night, and he never moved, though the torches burned out and the advisors all left, leaving him alone in the dark. Well, almost alone. Galion stayed always by his side, stood silent and still beside his father like a statue.
At last Legolas ventured closer, standing before his father the King, but his eyes were unfocused and blank. It scared him a little, and he looked to Galion. The old servant might have been carved out of marble before Legolas' direct regard.
“Galion,” he said, to break the spell, and the elf blinked as if woken from a dream, turning his head. Legolas gestured to his father. “What ails him?” Legolas asked, troubled.
For a long moment, Galion looked on his father, something unfathomable in his eyes, then he smiled sadly. “He sleeps,” Galion whispered. “Fear not, Prince Legolas. You need not watch. I always stay with him.”
And by doing so enable it? Legolas narrowed his eyes, wondering. If he took Galion away, would his father wonder where his faithful retainer had gone? Oh, he knew the uses his father had for Galion. He knew the context of Galion's “service” very well indeed. He would have had to be blind not to see it.
Coming to a sudden decision, Legolas snapped his fingers. “Attend me,” he ordered. Galion drew back in surprise then shook his head.
“B-but your father...” he said softly, almost pleading. Legolas merely tilted his head at Galion's insolence and near refusal. If Thranduil was truly sleeping, as Galion said, then he could not miss him.
“Attend me,” Legolas said coldly, feeling annoyed, “or I shall ensure you are in permanent trouble with him.”
He did not elaborate, trusting Galion would catch his meaning, and strode to the door, gratified when he heard the servant rushing to follow him.
Legolas walked to his rooms quickly, then flung open the door and left Galion to shut it behind them. He threw himself into a chair before the fireplace as the servant went around lighting oil lamps.
“Wine,” Legolas said shortly, holding out his hand, palm upwards, watching with interest as Galion hurried to obey. When the goblet was in his hand, Legolas sipped slowly, his legs stretched out straight in front of him. The wine was warming and spicy over his palate. Legolas relaxed a little.
“Light the fire,” he ordered, then watched from under his lashes while Galion did that too. Other servants had made it up, and all it required was kindling. Soon it gave off warm heat and a flickering, seductive glow.
“Remove my boots,” he said when the servant was finished, and Galion responded by kneeling at his feet and doing his bidding while the fire crackled and popped. Legolas scrunched his toes and warmed them by the fire, still sipping at the wine.
“My feet,” he said, before Galion could get up, while he was still on his knees. “Massage them.” Legolas leaned his head into the back of the chair and enjoyed Galion's ministrations. His experienced hands felt good, working away tenderly. Legolas felt a sense of sweet well being steal over him. No wonder his father enjoyed having the servant around so much. His touch brought out the hedonist in Legolas.
“Stand up,” he commanded, when he deemed it to have been enough, which took a good amount of time. Galion obeyed him.
“Turn down the bed,” Legolas said then, sending Galion scurrying over to the divan. After he had done that, he came to stand before Legolas again. The servant bit his lip rather obviously as Legolas looked upon him, as if playing the part he played for the King in order to tempt him, making Legolas want to keep barking orders at him. It occurred to Legolas that Galion was somewhat of a chameleon. Legolas shook his head slightly, and Galion resumed a more normal appearance.
“Speak,” he said at last, since Galion seemed almost bursting to say something.
“If I may be so bold,” Galion began. “I have known you all of your life, Prince Legolas.” Legolas nodded. It was true. “You are warmer than this. More playful.”
Legolas was just taking a sip of wine, and nearly spluttered it out at Galion's frank assessment. “Am I indeed?” he asked, as coldly as he could manage. Galion smiled.
“May I speak freely?” he asked. Legolas nodded, laughing inwardly. “You cannot possibly keep this up,” Galion told him, referring to Legolas' own act. His eyes twinkled in playful challenge, and Legolas decided to take him up on it, beginning to enjoy himself.
“We shall see,” he said carelessly, becoming deliberately haughty. He waved his hand. “Undress.”
Galion actually seemed a little shocked at that, as if he hadn't expected it, and yet he removed his clothing piece by piece while Legolas watched him avidly, his eyes becoming hungry for each patch of ivory skin as it was revealed. He did not malinger about the task, or seek to hide himself in any way. Nor yet did he show any great pride in himself. Legolas mentally gave him points for dignity.
“Pleasure me,” he ordered, using one hand to pluck at the laces to his leggings, and spreading his legs when Galion immediately knelt between them. Being withheld from the patrols kept Legolas from other things beyond killing spiders. His closest lover was out there now, away from him, and Legolas felt the distance keenly. Galion would fill that gap willingly, Legolas was sure.
Without any hesitation or teasing, Galion began his task. He was very old, very experienced and very good. Just as with the massage of his feet, Legolas found himself sitting back in the chair, drifting into some pleasant place as Galion's mouth and tongue worked on him. Not too fast, or too slow. Just right. It was beyond pleasure. It was like heaven. He imagined his father, keeping Galion occupied like this for hours each evening, and it made him burn with lust to have the same. It was a pity there weren't two of him, Legolas thought dazedly, staring at the ceiling while Galion attended to his need.
“Enough!” Legolas gapsed when he felt himself close to resolution, and Galion stopped immediately, sitting back to await his next order. Legolas stood up and held out his arms to either side of him.
“Undress me,” he commanded graciously, secretly thrilled when Galion did that very thing in the same no nonsense way. Actually it reminded him of when he was a child, and he wondered if Galion had been the servant who attended him then. It was too long ago for Legolas to remember clearly. When Galion had done his work, Legolas nodded over at the divan. “To the bed.”
Legolas was aching with need as he followed, lying down on the bed with his father's companion, but he took the time to explore Galion slowly, knowing the servant would not stop him. It made him feel dizzy with power as his hands explored the other elf's body, making him react and respond. Galion was very beautiful, slender and toned, though not as tall or muscled as Legolas or his father. Where Legolas' lips trailed, his skin was soft and the taste of him was addictive as the wine.
He had the most beautiful honey-coloured hair, which made him impossible to place, and Legolas wondered just how old Galion was, but that was a mystery for later. For now, Legolas wanted to touch, and he used his hand on the other elf's erection, watching his face and listening to his quiet moans. Until, that is, Legolas continued, and he realised Galion was close to climax. Then something in his submissive and accepting manner finally changed.
Galion lay on his back, pleading gaze levelled on Legolas. “Please,” he begged as Legolas' hand moved up and down on him. Legolas ignored him. He'd brought the goblet of wine to the bed with him, and picked it up now with his free hand, sipping from it as he continued. “Please, don't, Prince Legolas. Don't!” His hands came down to make Legolas stop.
For a moment, Legolas looked down, then back up at Galion's face, staring intensely as if he would see into Galion's very fëa. “Take your hands away from mine!” he uttered, shocked at the refusal. “Let me do what I will with you.”
Gasping, Galion obeyed, his hands dropping weakly to either side of his body as it arched up. Legolas continued the motion of his hand, spellbound by the look of defeat and desire the servant gave him. “But I am commanded by the King,” Galion said urgently, begging now. “I cannot come! Not even for you! Please!”
“No, you had better not,” noted Legolas, refusing to drop the imperious act, remembering Galion's playful challenge earlier. He took another leisurely sip from the goblet, letting the taste of it spread over his tongue as Galion entertained him. “You are in our service, mine and my father's.” He drew his hand up quickly, then back down, making Galion moan wretchedly. “This is what it means to serve us both, and yet you will not leave, will you?”
“Never!” He was so close now, so hot in Legolas' hand. “I promised Oropher I would not leave his son!” he cried out.
At that, Legolas stopped. He stared down, and saw the truth of it in Galion's eyes. So that was why he remained, playing his part. Because it was a part Galion played for his father, Legolas was certain of it. All that steadfast loyalty and desperate submission. It was an act!
“You were not always the submissive servant, were you?” Legolas asked, troubled by the conclusion he had come to and ashamed of his own behaviour. Galion smiled up at him, and he was so pretty Legolas had to suppress a groan. Something about Galion made him want to continue. It was almost as if he asked for it, to be treated in such a way.
“For your grandfather, I was something else,” he confided, confirming Legolas' thoughts on the matter. Though Oropher had died before he was born, he could imagine a different Galion, more sedate, and an existence that was less subservient and humiliating. He wondered if Galion missed that. Legolas frowned as he put the wine back down on the floor at the side of the bed.
“Were you more yourself then?” he asked, wondering if there was some way he could right things for Galion.
“I see your worry, but it is misplaced, Prince Legolas,” Galion said with a slow smile and a sinuous stretch of his body. “I am not a captive here, I assure you. I choose my service, and I enjoy it very much.” As he spoke, he lifted a hand and slid it up over Legolas' arm, as if encouraging him to touch again.
Legolas was nonplussed, having no option but to believe what Galion told him. “But who are you?” he asked, feeling frustrated and worse, feeling that he might soon take that frustration out on Galion's body if he did not stop gazing up like that. As if he needed a lesson or two to be reminded of his place.
“No one of consequence,” Galion assured him. “I am a mere servant. Yours, if you wish it,” he said with a sigh, his fingertips brushing against Legolas' skin, leaving no doubt what he desired.
“I want you now,” Legolas said. “Turn over.” Galion complied immediately. So quickly in fact that Legolas wondered if he himself had been taken in. Was Galion not giving him exactly what he wanted too? But then it did not matter. All that mattered was that he gave it freely. Legolas used his thumbs to open him, staring down at his puckered entrance.
“You are ready?” Legolas asked, seeing the tell-tale sheen of oil there. Galion twisted his head to look back at Legolas and pulled a face.
“I am your father's servant,” he explained. “He is not always... patient.”
Legolas had an idea, and he decided to act upon it. Instead of just using Galion for his pleasure, Legolas took up the oil and used his fingers to properly prepare the servant's body. Galion made such beautiful noises as he worked, little breathless sighs of pleasure that made Legolas want to take him hard and subdue him. Make him cry tears, perhaps. He imagined it as he touched, staring down at the lithe and inviting body that wriggled maddeningly beneath the touch of his hand.
“Stop that,” Legolas said, more harshly than he meant, and Galion stilled. Something about him seemed to bring out the worst in Legolas. He knew it, yet could not help it.
“I am sorry, Highness!” Galion said, trembling with the effort to stay still. “Would you punish me, as your father does?” he asked, and he sounded so helpless and almost innocent that Legolas felt an answer to that question immediately. Oh, he imagined it easily, and it shocked him to find he could contemplate such things.
“Is that what you want?” Legolas demanded. “Can you not accept pleasure when it is put to you like this?”
Galion only groaned. “I cannot accept pleasure. The King's command forbids it.” So that is what bothered him? Legolas sighed; he would have words with his father over this, but Galion continued. “Save from you and the King I serve no other. I give myself to no other. I love no other.”
Suddenly the depth of Galion's loyalty to the realm was clear, and Legolas was stunned. “Truly?” he asked, dumbfounded. “Who are you?” Legolas repeated his earlier question as he covered his aching erection with oil and held himself at Galion's entrance. He did not expect an answer, and yet it was given to him.
“Oronwë,” Galion said quietly as Legolas pushed inside of him. He moaned, then breathed in. “My first name was Oronwë.”
“Oronwë,” Legolas repeated as he plunged deep, his eyes closing in pleasure. Suddenly all that mattered was being in him, taking him, fucking him, making him accept it. All of it. Legolas could do nothing else, and his body took over for him, feeling Galion squeeze so perfectly around his length.
“Does my father know of your true name?” Legolas demanded, feeling Galion alternately relax then clench around him as if rebellious. The sensation of it made Legolas almost growl, and Galion whimpered.
“He does not. Only you,” Galion moaned. “No one else knows.”
“It will be our secret,” Legolas whispered harshly. “If you wish me to keep it, you will continue to please me.” He gave Galion a sudden deep thrust. “Won't you?”
“Legolas...” Galion moaned, and Legolas tried to calm him with caresses while still taking what he wanted. Every single one of the elder's reactions only spurred him on. He was utterly delicious.
“You feel very sweet around me,” he said, aware that his movements were hard and fast now, almost punishing for poor Galion, but he could not stop, even though Galion was so much slighter than himself that he seemed almost breakable. To break him... Legolas did not know where the thought had come from, but he responded strongly to it.
“You were made for this,” Legolas managed. “To take my hard cock inside you.”
“Yes...” Galion whispered in response. “I am yours, Prince Legolas.” He whimpered at a particularly harsh stroke. “Say that I please you,” he begged, responding to the threat of earlier, and it granted Legolas more of that strange new power. He could lose himself in this – it was as heady as any wine.
“Oh, you please me,” Legolas said darkly. “I will not do without you from now on, and you will learn to obey me in all things.”
“Yes, I will, I swear!” Galion was desperate, but then Legolas reached around to pump his erection in time with his own thrusts.
“Beginning with this,” Legolas said, feeling his own impending climax, while Galion was as hard in his hand as before. “I have changed my mind,” he announced, as imperiously as he could manage. “Come for me,” he ordered. “I care not what my father commands. Come for me now.” He paused. “Oronwë.”
Galion's reaction was immediate and spectacular. He cried out loudly, his head turning so that Legolas could see his open mouth, his full red lips trembling as his warmth spilled over Legolas' hand. His passage pulsed around Legolas and brought him over the edge, his essence drawn from him little by little deep inside Galion's body. So perfect.
“Your father...” Galion moaned in regret beneath him some moments later, moving slightly so as to make Legolas aware of his own bodyweight, and how he pinned Galion to the bed. “I have disobeyed him.”
“Yes, you are very naughty, Galion,” Legolas teased, sensing what Galion wanted from this interlude between them, feeling the servant's body tighten around him even now. “I shall ensure that you are in permanent trouble with him,” he repeated, feeling fantastically evil. But then he grinned, remembering Galion's insistence earlier that he chose this – all of it – even the strange relationship with his father. “What do you have to say to that?”
“Thank you, Prince Legolas,” he said softly, closing his eyes so that his long lashes rested on the top of his cheeks. “Thank you for your consideration.”
At that admission, Legolas laughed lightly and pulled out, letting Galion out from beneath him. He sat up and swatted at the servant's behind playfully.
“Very good. Go now and return to him,” Legolas instructed. “Have me informed immediately if there is any change.”
“Yes, Prince Legolas.” Galion got up from the bed, his pale thin limbs trembling, and found his clothing, putting it on hurriedly now as if harassed. Legolas found himself responding to that too, lounging on the divan while he admonished Galion to do up his buttons properly, to ensure the laces of his shoes were tied correctly, as if he were a mere elfling and not Legolas' senior of many hundreds of years. Perhaps even thousands. His hands shook as he obeyed Legolas, his eyes flicking up occasionally for reassurance.
“Oh, Galion?” Legolas said as Galion finally laid a hand on the door handle. As if nervous, Galion turned to face him, looking into his eyes, and Legolas felt a sudden spike of lust all over again. The servant had given him what he wanted, yet Legolas could not escape the sense that Galion had manipulated him in some way, coaxing that dominant behaviour from him so cleverly he had not even realised it.
“Do be sure to attend me in the morning. I would have you awaken me with your hot, sweet mouth,” he said, his gaze lingering on those soft red lips. Galion lowered his head and bowed slightly, his hair tumbling around him in unruly loose curls. Legolas found he wanted to bind that hair to make it behave, much like the servant himself. For a moment he imagined having Galion bound to his bed, unable to move. Something for tomorrow, perhaps.
“Yes, Prince Legolas,” Galion said, meek and obliging as ever. Then he gave Legolas a daring smile of satisfaction and victory, and was gone.
Legolas flung himself back on the bed and laughed, looking forward to the morning.

~ finis ~

Author's Note: Hope you had fun! Thank you for reading. Please drop me a word or two as you leave! :)
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The Teacher - Missing Scenes