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
- 17
- 18
- 19
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: It's been a long, long time - years, in fact, but there is more of this story. With apologies for the delay, here is the next chapter.

Chapter Seventeen

II 3434

It couldn't carry on forever between the three of them. One of them was going to let go sooner or later, but it wasn't him, yet he felt it all the same. Nimbrethil had been moving slowly upon him, up and down, taking her own time and making him feel like her toy. It was all in the way she maintained direct eye contact, so unapologetic that it was he who looked away, turning all of his ideas about intimacy around. He couldn't stop it, and wouldn't even if he could. The inside of her was so slick, warm and yet so tight around him; he could feel every slight tremor of her muscles as she took him. Then she began to move faster, just a little, and though he was busy with Thranduil, he saw her from the corner of his eye, her head thrown back so that her long silver blonde hair tickled his legs. He saw her lick her own finger, and then move a hand down to herself close to where they were joined, rubbing in slow circular movements.

As she speeded up, so did he, unconsciously rubbing his tongue against Thranduil at the same pace, tasting the fluids that leaked from him and loving the feel of the satin soft stretched skin over hardness. They were so alike in their approach, and yet so different. Thranduil was unbreakable, and despite how busy he was, Elrond imagined how Thranduil would feel inside him at the same time, an involuntary sound of desire coming from his throat. Nimbrethil could not do that to him at least.

Nimbrethil echoed his desire, and though she had moaned before, now it sounded slightly different to his ears as she tangled her own hands in her hair near her temples. The difference was that before it had been deliberate, while now it was involuntary. Elrond pulled back from Thranduil enough to catch a breath or two that was flavoured with the scent of sex, subtly different this time because beneath all of it was Nimbrethil's distinctive perfume.

Elrond had never been with a female, and though he knew enough to imagine what would happen, none of his earlier experiences had prepared him for the way it felt. He remembered what it was like to take another - his beloved Oropher - and to feel their body contract in orgasm around him, but Oropher had never felt like this. When Nimbrethil reached it, her body tensed and muscles contracted just the same, but along with that he felt the waves of her orgasm, her inner muscles massaging and pulsing around him. She was not in control anymore.

If life had a rhythm and a song, then they were close to it here. It was a heartbeat they shared for these few short moments at the peak of intimacy; a reassurance that Elrond needed, a reminder that the song went on and that no one was truly lost. Thranduil and Nimbrethil were merely messengers and he knew there was a truth here, a truth that would escape his futile attempts to hold it because it was not meant to be seen.

She had been slick with juices already, but as she came she was so wonderfully warm, and Elrond felt himself sliding deep inside her; it didn't matter how tight she was when her body made it so slippery like that. He felt sure that he growled when he felt himself reach her limits, the head of his arousal pressing against something inside her that pushed him back, because it was something he had never felt before. Elrond could not decide which he liked best, with a male or a female. They were alike, but so vastly different.

So close to it himself, Elrond closed his eyes, aware that he was neglecting Thranduil because he felt the King brush the head of his hardness against his lips, the salty clear arousal smearing there so that Elrond could taste it on his tongue.

"No!" he cried out, begging when he felt Nimbrethil moving off him, because he was so very near to finding his pleasure inside her, and it had to be right to do so. Though he knew it was hopeless, he put all of his strength into pulling at the binding that held him still and stretched out for them to torment, longing to make her continue or to touch himself and prolong the moment for just that short space of time he needed.

"Hush, little mouse," Nimbrethil commanded, in strict control once more, though her voice was a little breathless. She had moved to lie beside him on the bed, and he opened his eyes to look, finding her lips red, her cheeks flushed and her hair ruffled. She looked so much more beautiful Elrond wondered how it was possible, but she had left him unfinished and he ached with it.

"Don't hurt me like this, Lady," he pleaded, certain that she must know what he meant. "Anything else, but not this." Something softened in her expression as she looked down his body, and Nimbrethil glanced behind him then at Thranduil. A silent command must have passed between the two because their roles reversed in a heartbeat, and Elrond swallowed and relaxed, only to fight to free himself again a moment later when he felt the King sucking and licking him.

He found himself caught by her gaze again, as her husband pleasured him, her hand on his cheek in the attitude of a lover, and that is surely what they were now, wasn't it? Elrond realised his mistake a second later. "Mistress," he corrected his earlier address almost instinctively, and Nimbrethil smiled at him. Her lips were closer to his, so close they shared a breath before the kiss began, and she dominated him in this too, as before, until by the end she was sucking lightly on his bottom lip. She pulled back and sighed in contentment.

"He tastes of you," she commented casually, and for a moment Elrond wondered what she meant. But then Thranduil stopped what he was doing as well, and he heard a throaty chuckle that he had become used to.

"He tastes of you," Thranduil answered from lower down the bed, and Elrond lifted his head to look, just in time to see Thranduil licking his lips, staring back at him like a predator. "Honey," Thranduil informed Elrond, as if teasing, and he was because suddenly Elrond wondered what she tasted like. Was she like a man, or would it be different? Honey... Elrond wanted to know, only the King continued to suckle on him, drawing everything from him he had to give while Nimbrethil watched, occasionally giving out directions.

They were using him to make love to each other, that was clear, and when Elrond was spent, Nimbrethil rested her head on his chest to gaze down at her husband.

"You came back to me," she said in a kind of dreamy satisfaction, her fingers drawing swirls of patterns on Elrond's chest, occasionally brushing a nipple so that he sighed. Nimbrethil ignored him, and so did Thranduil. Was this his punishment for earlier? Elrond let his head fall back on the pillow in utter defeat and sighed.

"Yes, Mistress."

There was a moment of silence and tense expectation before Nimbrethil untied him, her fingers working fast on the knots Thranduil had made earlier.

"Thank you, Mistress," he said, rubbing at his wrists carefully, and Nimbrethil laughed, gracing him with a look that he felt everywhere at once.

"Do not believe you are free, little mouse," she said, and Elrond shook his head immediately in agreement. "I have not forgotten," she warned him then. Elrond swallowed at the dangerous look in her eyes, but soon it was gone as Nimbrethil had her husband lie back on the bed. He parted his legs for her to sit between them, her hands already reaching beside the bed for a small bottle of oil.

Elrond didn't know what he had expected, but he had thought Nimbrethil might pleasure her husband somehow. He watched her covering her fingers in oil, and switched his gaze to Thranduil, who looked at her and waited patiently.

"Do you think you can resist, slave?" Nimbrethil asked without looking up, still concentrating on her fingers as she rubbed them together and replaced the oil on the nightstand. Resist, Elrond thought, wondering what she could mean. Thranduil knew it seemed, and his eyes widened a little. He looked to Elrond, grabbing at his hand as if he needed the reassurance.

"Yes, mistress," he replied, and Elrond waited to see what would happen, but he also remembered Thranduil taunting him with the taste of Nimbrethil, and he leaned closer to the King to kiss him, and taste what he could of her through it. He could taste Thranduil, a lot of himself, and something wholly different and somewhat sweet. He pulled back and drew in a breath, smiling slightly.

"Honey," he said, amazed, though it wasn't quite the same taste it was close enough, and Thranduil laughed lightly at him for a moment. Thranduil's hold on his hand tightened suddenly.

"Don't let go," the King asked earnestly, and Elrond shook his head slightly, turning to pay attention to what Nimbrethil did again. What he saw didn't make any sense.

She was sat between his parted legs, and her hand was beneath him, not on his hardness. Elrond knew what it was she was doing; hadn't he done it often enough himself for Oropher? Hadn't Thranduil done it to him many times? He couldn't see in detail, but he knew she was penetrating the King with her slim fingers. Why? To what purpose? Elrond had time to dream that she was preparing him, and that it could only end with Elrond taking the King at Nimbrethil's command before he realised that was not Nimbrethil's aim. If that was the case then it would be over more quickly, but it continued, and then Thranduil began to moan and tremble.

"I have you," Nimbrethil said softly as if it were a reassurance. Thranduil murmured a thankful assent as he gripped Elrond's hand.

She didn't touch him anywhere else except for inside, and yet Elrond witnessed the King's approaching orgasm, felt it in the way Thranduil's fingers tightened around his hand. His breathing quickened and stuttered and Thranduil's eyes rolled back. It seemed impossible. Elrond could see Thranduil's hardness; straining, untouched and twitching. "Do you want me to touch you?" he whispered, wanting to give him some relief, wondering if Thranduil even heard him.

Then, the hold on his hand tightened so it was almost unbearable and Thranduil squeezed his eyes shut and called out, his voice a mixture between a growl and low bellow.

Elrond looked down, only to realise that Thranduil was still hard. The level of self-control was stunning, and Elrond looked at Thranduil in amazement, aware that the hand in his was no longer crushing, only trembling.

Did it hurt? How did he do it? How long had he needed to practice? Elrond imagined some of what Thranduil's life must be like with Nimbrethil, and was amazed that he had wilfully chosen it. What could the King find in this? And then he knew, because he knew that Thranduil found the same thing in it that he did. Hadn't he been with Thranduil since Oropher's death? Hadn't the way Thranduil treated him and mastered him saved him in more than one way since? It had enabled him to fight and forget the pain, to experience love and pleasure without guilt because the choice was taken from him. What Thranduil did for him even encouraged acceptance of his loss, when he remembered how Thranduil had punished him while describing their return to Mirkwood without Oropher. It was rescue.

He was only lost in these thoughts for a minute or two, but it was a minute or two of pleasure for the King, and Elrond realised again that the crescendo was building.

"Mistress," Thranduil said, sweat on his brow and his voice vulnerable and aching. Elrond had never wanted to touch him so much. Elrond cupped a hand around Thranduil's cheek and was there looking at him when the King opened his eyes.

"Please, let me, I can help," he said, licking his lips, meaning it as an aid, but he wasn't prepared for the way Thranduil laughed at him, reminding him who always had the upper hand.

"Green leaf," he said in amusement. "If you do that I will certainly lose the game." Thranduil looked past him for a moment at his wife, then back at Elrond meaningfully. "Much as I love you, I must win," he said.

"I do not understand," Elrond replied, utterly confused.

"You will," Thranduil stated, then closed his eyes again as another wave rose within him. "Just hold my hand, leaf."

His own needs and desires were completely forgotten as he watched Thranduil do it again, this impossible thing, and he hoped that Nimbrethil would not ask it of him, because he would never have so much control. Not for centuries.

"I knew you could do it," Nimbrethil breathed, seemingly as much in awe of the King as Elrond was. She ceased with the massage of her fingers and pulled away slightly, a feverish gleam in her eyes. "I knew it."

Suddenly, Thranduil's eyes opened, and he moved so quickly that Elrond was astonished. But in moments Nimbrethil was beneath him, that strange and dangerous excitement never leaving her eyes. "I want you," Thranduil said, and she smiled up at him.

"Make me feel it," she challenged, and Elrond could only watch them, beginning to understand what was happening beneath all of the games. They had been together for centuries, and yet their passion was as green and new as the spring. It was so very raw it was violent. Thranduil's fingers left small bruises on Nimbrethil's ivory skin as he held her down to the bed. Yet she must welcome it, because she wrapped her legs around him and whimpered in pleasure beneath him.

Thranduil demanded the same from her as she had of him, and with a sudden flash of insight, Elrond began to understand that they exchanged roles easily. This was why it had been so easy for Thranduil to master him; he was well practiced at it. They truly were meant. They would endure the ages together, because they wanted and needed the same things, throwing the control back and forth between each other in an endless dance. Elrond remember his earlier impression that he was watching a fairy story, and it was true, even if it were a somewhat darker version than the books whispered.

"Oh, my wonderful, Nim," Thranduil groaned at last, when Nimbrethil had ceased to count and was delirious and utterly lost in his arms. "I have missed you so." Her eyes opened, a glint of silver, and she seemed to realise where she was.

"There is so little time," she murmured, her hands reaching up to caress Thranduil's face. "Too little. I miss you as well, but it cannot be now." She was refusing him; Elrond knew that well enough. Gently, but she was doing it.

"No!" Thranduil protested, and moved again, apparently just to hear her moan. "Just one more moment, with you like this..."

"There is a war, Thranduil." Nimbrethil's voice was colder now, and haughty. Thranduil paid it no mind whatsoever.

"There is always a war."

"You will still come at my command," Nimbrethil noted, and Thranduil looked into her eyes, seemingly caught by what he saw there. "Whether you want to or not."

"I need you, Mistress." It could have been anything, but for Elrond, who had been party to the whole exchange, he could see what it was fair enough. It was an entreaty to her to be in control, and Nimbrethil rose to it as she must. Thranduil still moved inside her, and she beneath him, yet she was the one who directed this now.

"I know," she whispered. "It is all right. Let go." And Thranduil did, shuddering in release deep inside her while she held him close and safe in her arms. "Do not be afraid. I will not leave you vulnerable," she vowed, "not yet." Her words were at odds to the way Thranduil was now, his body warm and pliant in the safety of her embrace. It was that same spark of tenderness that he had witnessed earlier, when Thranduil had been on his knees before her.

"Thank you, Mistress."

"I do not give you what you want," she said quietly, in her voice a shadow of regret, and then it was gone. "Only what you need."

Thranduil looked down at her, and Elrond understood that they rarely went this long without changing the dynamic. War was with them even here, and the King's words made a terrible kind of sense to Elrond. "I worry for you," Thranduil said quietly. "Are you lost?"

"I am safe," Nimbrethil replied, as an assurance but she couldn't hide the fear as she reached up to caress Thranduil's face with her hand. These were words of love, under the surface, and he knew they feared to lose each other. They feared it even if the war should be won.

"But are you all right?" Thranduil pursued. For a moment there was a deeper and even lonelier terror in Nimbrethil's eyes that Thranduil and Elrond did not miss.

"When the time comes, you must show me no mercy," she said. Thranduil merely kissed her hand with a smile of confidence and a little apology.

"I know it."

Elrond knew it too, and he knew that Thranduil would not shrink from the challenge of bringing back their ever-changing dynamic when the war was won. They were so young, and so they did not see things as he did. They were meant, and so they would never lose each other, at least not in that way, and never for long.

They slept for a while and drifted in satiated exhaustion, only when he awoke, Elrond found he was to be the recipient of their attention again, this time it was to be punishment for his behaviour with Nimbrethil...

Author's Note: Thank you for reading; I hope you are enjoying it.
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The Teacher