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
- 13
- 14
- 15
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 Thirteen

III 140

In the warm dark Elrond stirred lazily with a groan… his body felt sore and used still, no doubt it was all Oropher’s doing. As if to prove his tired thoughts correct a hand snaked around from behind him to stroke across his chest. He was glad that Oropher had ignored his insistence on leaving his house, and was ready to do all he could to convince Oropher to stay. He had a nightmare, he was sure, where he had woken up alone after that strange argument to find his lover gone from him. The relief he felt now was much more real to him than his sense of outrage had been the previous night.

“Do you even know the meaning of tired?” he asked with a touch of temper. For his rebuke he earned a carefree giggle from his companion and Elrond rolled over to trap his lover beneath him. A shocked gasp didn’t stop Elrond from dipping his head at the sight of the blond hair and sucking lightly at Oropher’s neck. Only as he moved did Elrond feel just how sore he was and he moaned in discomfort, letting the kiss turn into a little of a bite in revenge.

“Elrond,” the sleepy voice murmured in protest, the long limbs that Elrond held imprisoned twitching a little as if to try and escape.

“You asked for it,” Elrond returned in kind, playful, leaning down with his weight so as to keep his lover trapped beneath him, stilling him with a lick to his neck that made him writhe and whimper in pleasure.

He knew of course, as he became more awake, that this was not Oropher beneath him but Legolas. How could he continue to believe in the beautiful lie when it had been so long ago now? And yet he clung to it for as long as Legolas did not choose to reveal the truth to him.

Along with this Elrond was still not truly cognizant and he held Legolas down to bed without really considering how far he was from Thranduil’s instructions. Only sighs and meaningless whispers came to his ears as he became the aggressor instead and in preference to being taken again.

Indeed it was some minutes of this before Elrond realised he was on the verge of taking Legolas himself, and he pulled back a little at the thought of it, just vaguely realising that the Prince not only welcomed it but that he was actively enjoying Elrond’s attentions.

“Mmm… more…” Legolas pleaded breathlessly beneath him, opening eyes far enough to show a glint of blue that had Elrond completely spellbound. “Teach me,” he commanded, and Elrond felt his body obey before his mind could fully comprehend what was being asked of him.

There was enough moonlight for him to see what he was doing as he spilled some of the same oil on his fingers that had been used on him earlier. As if captivated he went through the almost forgotten motions of preparing a lover and watched as Legolas threw his head back in the moonlight, showing vulnerability but also exposing the corded tight muscles of his neck and adam’s apple. He was so clearly male, so beautiful… and for one single moment as he moaned with his hair streaming out behind him and his body tuned to every slight touch of Elrond’s hand he was Oropher.

“Teach me,” Legolas moaned again, his voice barely raising above a whisper this time and Elrond couldn’t disobey. As he had been a servant of Oropher’s long before, even in this, so he became one again for his descendent.

“I will teach you,” Elrond repeated, and he hadn’t meant for it to sound like a threat - yet it did. Legolas’ widened eyes and the way his body pulsed around Elrond’s finger did nothing for his composure. It only crossed his mind to remember as he replaced his finger with his hardness that Legolas had been a virgin, and that thought almost made him lose control as Legolas let a submissive whimper pass his lips at the new sensation of being filled by another male.

He whimpered and yet he clung to Elrond as a drowning sailor will cling to driftwood, pleading in his eyes and his body hot and tight as the grip of a hand around him. “I’m sorry!” Elrond breathed in regret for the loss of Legolas’ innocence. Whatever else Thranduil had expected of him, he couldn’t have wanted this for his son, and yet despite his apology Elrond couldn’t stop. Wouldn’t.

When he looked down he saw Legolas, but also all who came before him, and he couldn’t have halted that first thrust inwards for anything in the world, even certain victory over darkness. With that thought he leaned down and clung to Legolas as well, both of them together in the black of night like an illicit intrigue. He began to take the Prince with shallow thrusts, allowing his experience to dominate now as he realised how new this would be for him. Legolas didn’t moan or make any noise now save for a kind of breathlessness, as if he were running too fast.

“Slow,” he pleaded at last, and Elrond went for more, taking him slower but deeper still until he saw the glimmer of tears in Legolas’ eyes in the darkness. Belatedly, he realised he had returned to holding Legolas down to the bed, and that the Prince couldn’t move away from him even if he wanted to. With no word or thought of apology he used his grip on Legolas’ wrists to lever himself up and change the angle deliberately, laughing in amusement when Legolas suddenly moaned out loud and bucked up as Elrond touched something deep inside him.

“Stop!” he gasped. “It is too much!” Elrond continued undeterred.

“Did you stop?” he asked, feeling a little evil when Legolas blushed and fired a look of apology at him.

“I am sorry, Elrond, truly. I did not know.” The apology was more that he had ever received from Oropher or Thranduil and Elrond began to realise that Legolas was out of his depth with this kind of game. Still, he couldn’t resist a little more as Legolas twisted helplessly beneath him.

“You did not tell me that it hurt,” the tone turned accusing now, and Elrond smiled in the darkness, feeling the victory was too easy but caring little.

“And did you leave me alone when I slept?” Elrond questioned, already knowing the answer, delighting in the haunted, guilty look that Legolas gave to him.

The young Prince hadn’t lasted too long the first time, and Elrond had not expected anything different from him. What he hadn’t counted on was Legolas’ energy and virility. Before long the Prince was ready again and it wasn’t long before he learnt to control himself and make the act last…

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

By the second time, Legolas is learning a little and Elrond lies still and accepting when the young Prince stops moving inside him and fights to regain control before it slips away. His grip on Elrond tightens almost painfully and his breath comes in little gasps as Elrond feels the hard flesh inside him pulse once, twice.

“Now, more,” Legolas says after a few long moments of near-torturous silence and Elrond barely has time to supress a giggle before Legolas begins to move again. After that first time, the way has become slick and slippery - yet he is still tight. It has been a long time since his body was last used in this way. But something about the angle of entry has changed and as Legolas touches that place deep inside him for the first time, Elrond moans, automatically spreading his limbs wider, inviting that exact same movement again. Legolas obliges him, perhaps unknowingly, since Elrond hasn’t told him, and of couse he has never experienced it for himself.

It turns him into a boneless thing, and Legolas gasps as he slides deeper inside.

“Elrond… you feel so beautiful.”

He can’t return more than a breathless moan as the rhythm Legolas has set rubs his member against the sheets. There is no thought in his head anymore save that finally he is back where he is supposed to be and that Oropher enjoys what his body has to offer.

“Meleth nín!” he exclaims at that perfect moment when everything coalesces into one need - light and dark the same, heat and cold the same, pain and plasure the same. It’s somewhat cheap that it ends so quickly, and that all there is to show is a warm sticky wetness on the sheets beneath his stomach - and yet he loved in that moment more than some do in a liftime.

It isn’t over, though, and Elrond in his weakened state begins to whimper as Legolas continues to take him at the same pace - unabated. Slowly, at the same time, once more the illusion of Oropher vanshes like a cruel mirage in the desert. But it’s too much now and Elrond tries to move, only for Leoglas to hold him still for it with a sound of stern disapproval.

“Please, Legolas! Stop for a moment!” He regrets not advising the Prince of this before hand now as his overstimulated body trembles and writhes in Legolas’ grip, unable to do anything but give Leoglas pleasure - a pleasure he takes with enthusiasm, as of a participant in a great feast.

It’s all he can do not to fight, and he knows he has failed in this when Legolas calls his name like a chastisement and lets go of one arm to deliver a stinging slap to his outer thigh. At least this changes the angle, making it bearable, and Elrond drops his head sumissively like a disciplined mongrel dog, burying his face in the pillows, astonished to realise his cheeks are wet with tears.

The young Prince is insatiable and demanding, like Oropher, and yet when he speaks his words are all Thranduil.

“You are mine, Elrond. My father has informed me of this. Do not think that your position as a teacher affords you any authority over me. You will allow me to take what I want from you, and now I want more.”

The contents of the letter appear as words in front of Elrond’s closed eyes as he allows Legolas to chastise him.

Be meek and obedient. Show him how good you are as a pet and plaything. Show him this because I miss you.

His struggles have ceased and now he relaxes, allowing Legolas to take everything his body can give, and the young Prince rewards him with soothing words and touches, making him feel ever more like some kind of domesticated animal. It stops and starts at times, as Legolas strives to make it last, holding off the inevitable for an hour, maybe longer. It truly has been an age since Elrond was last used like this and his breathless sighs change to something that could almost be hisses of discomfort as his body becomes sore at the sudden demands that are placed upon it.

Again, Legolas stops and instead of allowing it to continue Elrond begins to consciously tighten and relax his body, drawing the orgasm from the Prince in order to have an end to it.

“Elrond!” Legolas says in a shocked whisper. “Stop!” He can feel how close it is, and he refuses to yield or to give up, encouraging Legolas so that he feels the Prince make a couple of sharp uncontrolled, almost violent thrusts before he feels the hardness inside him pulse in long-denied release.

“Bad Elrond,” Legolas admonishes when he has recovered. “Maybe I should punish you.” Elrond only smiles as they adjust their positions to lay beside each other.

“Do you want to?” he asks, and sees Legolas’ eyes darken in sudden desire.

“Yes,” he whispers in return, but then seems to lose his purpose when Elrond touches him. He can touch now, and does so, exploring every part of the young archer’s body until he presses close to Elrond, forcing him to stop. “We should sleep,” he says finally, and they share a deep kiss before wrapping their arms around each other to rest. He can’t help but feel blessed, and loved and wanted, and he doesn’t even need Thranduil’s words to feel that, but there they are in his mind anyway.

Sleep in his arms if he asks this of you. Know that I wish it were me, tonight as every night. I would hold you close to me forever if you would allow it, meleth nín…

He isn’t sure how they got turned around like this as he drifts awake from a deep sleep. One of Legolas’ arms is draped over his waist from behind and he takes hold of the Prince’s hand to kiss it affectionately. It’s all he has energy for before falling back into reverie. Certainly he doesn’t have the energy to say no to Legolas when he wakes with a quiet yawn and moves against Elrond as if eager to begin it all again.

“Sleep,” Legolas whispers to him, and it’s like a spell that Elrond can’t resist. And he dreams of Oropher, and of Thranduil… and of Legolas.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

In the present again, he showed mercy to Legolas that the Prince didn’t show to him and changed the angle to make it less intense, to allow him the time to enjoy it. In this new more intimate position they faced each other and Legolas reached up to cup Elrond’s face with one strong hand. Again he was forcefully reminded of Oropher, feeling like the servant and slave to his lust. He closed his eyes, maybe to escape the impression, maybe to concentrate on it as Legolas’ hand moved to the back of his neck to pull him down for a breathless kiss.

When that was over Elrond moved to Legolas’ neck, prompting a delighted giggle from the Prince that made him smile against the soft skin as he groaned and felt himself reach completion much too soon. But then, it had been a long time since he had known this as well. Legolas wriggled beneath him and Elrond wrapped a hand around the youth’s length in answer, knowing he hadn’t found the same release yet.

It was wonderful to watch Legolas’ face as he manipulated his body to climax. To know he was the first to show him such things.

“I am hungry,” Legolas declared at last when they lay tangled together in the warmth and the early morning. It was still dark outside, yet Elrond threw Legolas a look of disbelief he was sure the archer must see.

“Still? Truly, you are your grandfather.”

Legolas giggled again, the sound of it like a precursor of the sunlight to come in but a few hours. “I mean hungry for food,” he said in amusement, and Elrond nodded. He contemplated leaving the warmth and comfort of the bed and settled for wrapping his arms around Legolas instead and laying a head on his shoulder. Again, Legolas laughed.

“Do you want it again?” he asked pointedly, and Elrond was out of the bed faster than the threat of violence could have moved him.

“You win,” he said, backing away to the door as he pulled on a robe to go walking the halls in. “I shall go to the kitchen and see if there is anything left from dinner last night.” Legolas nodded and Elrond ventured out of the room after retrieving the key from where Legolas had left it on the small table the afternoon before.

The lamps were not lit, but Elrond knew his own home so well that it was no trouble to find his way. He reached the kitchen after an uneventful short walk. Everyone was asleep in bed at this time. From the kitchen he entered a walk-in pantry which he knew was where the head cook usually placed any leftovers and kept the bread and fruit.

A few minutes later, and his arms were laden with bread and fruit, a little sweet pastry with jam and a jug of apple juice in one hand. He scoured the shelves one last time to make sure he hadn’t missed anything particularly good to take back with him and then turned to make his way back. He nearly dropped everything.

Legolas stood in the doorway watching him, clad in a robe that was undone at the front to display his body. “I am coming back,” Elrond assured him, backing away as Legolas came forward.

“I could not wait,” Legolas said softly, closing the door to after him and pursuing Elrond to a corner where his legs hit a small table that stood against the wall. He watched as Legolas reached out and brushed fingers over his left nipple, torn between the need to drop everything and push Legolas away, or perhaps to pull him close. Only when Legolas replaced his fingers with his lips did the jug of juice fall to the stone floor and smash at their feet.

“Turn around,” Legolas whispered, already guiding Elrond’s body the way he wanted it to be, “and lean over the table… teacher.”

He had suffered indignities at Oropher’s hands plenty of times; in Lindon and then later on even here. He had endured the most painful humiliations at the behest of Thranduil; things that even now made him colour when he considered them. Never had he felt so mortified as when Legolas kicked his legs apart and prepared him with oil from a shelf in his own kitchen before using him.

And despite that he moaned.

Sore from earlier, his body protested at Legolas’ use of it. Never had he been so shocked at the handling of his body by another.

Yet still he begged for more as Legolas leaned over him, milking him with one hand while not losing the rhythm. He had learned much already. Thranduil would be pleased, no doubt.

Then, layered inbetween the sounds of their breathing he heard someone enter the main kitchen. More than one person, actually, since they were speaking to each other. They were guards from upstairs, guards that amazingly were guarding early in the morning instead of sleeping away their shift.

“I tell you I heard something break in here,” one voice said urgently.

“Looks all right to me,” the other said after a pause, presumably to look around. Legolas didn’t even slow, though he did fall quiet, and Elrond closed his eyes tight to keep in the moan that threatened at the way Legolas treated him, even now while there was a chance they would be caught.

“Maybe we should check the side rooms,” the second voice from outside suggested then, a little more uncertain. Elrond shook his head desperately with his eyes closed as if the guard could already see him. “If an animal gets into one of the larders again the cook will kill us.”

Elrond could feel his body tighten in fear and nervous dread as the threatened search of the larders began. Thankfully, the two guards started at the other side of the room and Legolas speeded up, becoming rougher as Elrond not only fought the moan now, but also tried to hold the table still and stop its legs scraping across the stone floor.

A few last long, deep thrusts and it was over, but not before he lost his fight with the table and it moved on the floor with a deep rumble so loud that Elrond let out a little of his moan in dismay.

“Over there!” a voice called from outside. “Whatever it is, it’s feasting on the bread and fruit!”

There weren’t words for how quickly Elrond straightened up, drew his robe around him decently once more and faced the door as it opened towards him. His eyes were drawn by a movement as Legolas darted to the other side of the door, remaining hidden by it as the guards peered inside.

“Lord Elrond? What is happening in here?” He looked around him at the smashed earthenware jug and ruined bread and fruit on the floor, then back to the guard and shrugged a little.

“Erm… midnight feast?” he tried haphazardly, aware of the way Legolas was giggling silently on the other side of the door out of sight of the guards. They looked back at Elrond strangely.

“Why didn’t you call out and let us know it was you?” Legolas had tears rolling down his face as Elrond imagined calling to the guards while being bent over the table and he felt a little heat steal into his cheeks. He had no answer, and he could see one of the guards preparing to stride properly into the larder where Legolas would be discovered and took a quick step forward to forestall it.

“Please, don’t trouble yourselves. I will clean up this mess and then retire until morning. I didn’t mean to startle anyone.” He used his very best Lord of Imladris voice and registered the way it worked on the guards who seemed to have no more questions. “Return to your posts.” He watched after they bade him goodnight and then crossed the kitchen to return to their positions, once more cursing his rotten luck that they weren’t asleep at this time of night. Once they had gone Legolas crept out from behind the door with an insolent smirk that Elrond shook his head at.

“I think I’ll leave this, and leave the cook a note. She can bring it up with me if she wants,” he said, beginning to feel too tired to clean up the broken jug and spilled food and protect himself from Legolas at the same time. “We’ll just take something to eat and drink.” He loaded Legolas with the food and drink this time and then wrote a quick note which he left in the main kitchen before leading the way back to the guest room Legolas was staying in during his visit.

A short while later when they had eaten and returned to the bed together, Legolas let his hand roam lazily over Elrond’s back and buttocks. “Now… about that punishment…”

To be continued…

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