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Prince in Training	By : Pippychick_TAFKAB Category: -Multi-Age > Slash - Male/Male Views: 24084 -:- Recommendations : 4 -:- Currently Reading : 2
Disclaimer: We do not own Tolkien's world, Middle Earth, Lord of the Rings or any of the characters. We make no money from this.

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Chapter Nineteen

Good to his word, Erestor spoke to Thranduil, who summoned Legolas to attend him in his rooms when the feasting ended. Legolas went as directed, feeling somewhat sullen; Erestor’s promise meant that once again, he would not have his ada’s touch. Not that Thranduil would feel like getting up to very much, not after suffering such a beating!
When he arrived at his ada’s rooms, Thranduil bade him enter, but he was surprised to find his ada stripped to the waist, with Erestor carefully tending his bruises, rubbing in a mint-scented salve with gentleness Legolas would not have suspected him of possessing. Thranduil looked up, his face flushed as if with pleasure.
“Thank you for coming, ion nín.” Thranduil sounded relaxed and content. “Please, sit.”
Legolas glanced about the room and selected a straight chair; he was not at ease, and he did not mean to pretend to a comfort he did not feel.
The gentle massage continued, wordless, for a moment, until Legolas’s impatience flared and he spoke.
“Noldo, you said we would discuss why you beat my father. I am eager to hear your excuses.”
Erestor did not answer him instantly, sparing a moment to shush Thranduil, who began to raise himself to speak in his defense.
“Your father tells me he has punished you on occasion.” He gave Legolas a direct look. “He struck you, his hands upon your body, leaving red marks that bruised.”
Legolas flushed, angry that the elf apparently knew all the intimate details of their time together. “What of it?”
“Did it hurt?”
“Yes, of course,” he all but spat the words, not wanting to dwell on himself.
“Did you refuse it?”
Legolas merely glared at him, and Erestor raised a brow. “Did you derive pleasure from it?”
Legolas opened his mouth to give a hot denial, and then found he could not. He could not lie; after fully submitting to his ada, he had grown to become aroused while being beaten; he had enjoyed feeling the marks on him afterward and knowing his ada had made them. The pain of being had while freshly punished had intensified his pleasure, and he could not deny these things.
“Ah.” Erestor touched Thranduil’s back, making him gasp and quiver. “Turn over, raun ernil.”
Thranduil did, easing onto his side… and Legolas could see his cock was hard inside his breeches, leaving a wet spot on the thin fabric. “Your father derives pleasure from extreme forms of punishment and physical pain,” Erestor said calmly. “He is aroused now from the touch of my hands on the welts. I have left worse damage before, at his desiring, than I inflicted for this so-called punishment. And yet, this was a punishment as well as a test of his resolve.”
Erestor’s hand glided over Thranduil’s waist. “You may come and test his response for yourself, if you like. But I assure you – the punishment was to gauge his resolve and his penitence. The former, he has in abundance. Of the latter, I received none, though he acknowledges me his master. This speaks highly of his devotion to you.”
Legolas could see his father’s eyes were glazed as Erestor discussed him, his breath short in his lungs; his hips twitched as though he could barely keep from thrusting. Was this how he looked himself when Thranduil dominated him? Legolas tried to repress a shiver, unable to wrench his gaze away. Resentment boiled in his mind, doing battle with lust. He licked his lips, then realised what he had done and flushed, forcing his gaze to meet Erestor’s.
The Noldo smiled, a much more genuine amusement than any he had displayed so far.
“You wish to touch him. Come,” Erestor waved a magnanimous hand over Thranduil’s body. Legolas stood, but hesitated. “You feel the temptation,” Erestor said, and Legolas suddenly shuddered, feeling his body respond with quick arousal. Erestor could not know what he said! The word was one Thranduil had used on him time and again. He looked at his father, then looked at Erestor. He did know.
He decided not to let the manipulation put him off, and walked slowly over to the bed, kneeling down beside it, encouraging his ada to roll back onto his front. Legolas smoothed his father’s hair away from his face. It did not matter what Erestor thought. There was just Thranduil and himself here.
“I will ease you, if that be your wish, Ada,” Legolas said softly, as if to keep his words between them. He ignored the broad expanse of his father’s back, and rested his palm on Thranduil’s still-clothed hip. He could not help himself. In this situation, which seemed so unfamiliar, Legolas remembered his submission to his ada first, and he would give it even now, while his father seemed broken the same way he had been broken by the collar.
He listened for a response, but all he heard was the hated Noldo’s thinly veiled sigh. A hand grasped his tunic and hoisted him up to his feet. By contrast, Erestor’s words were smooth instead of harsh. “You seek reassurance. Such is selfish. He is beyond decision making. You must decide for him.”
Legolas tried to think, but he had no clue what Thranduil desired, and that left him too free. Erestor was staring at him, expecting something, and he couldn’t leave his father as he was. Legolas looked back at Erestor, feeling helpless. “What should I do?” he asked. Erestor smiled, again genuinely, only this time without amusement. He was pleased, Legolas thought, and was surprised to find himself responding to Erestor’s approval.
“Here,” Erestor pressed the pot of salve into his hand, standing up to allow Legolas to take his place. “Finish tending him,” he said, not unkindly. “That is what he needs first.” Erestor pointed to the marks he had not managed to soothe, and Legolas nodded.
He dipped fingers into the salve, then hesitated over the angry marks upon his father’s back. These were mild? He shuddered, then made himself reach forward before the Noldo could speak. He traced along the weal with the cooling gel.
Thranduil moaned, arching to thrust his cock against the bedding, making a low, sweet sound Legolas had never heard before. His body rose to instant, full readiness, aching for his ada’s touch, so long delayed.
“He is beautiful, is he not?”
Legolas could not deny it; his throat was dry as he looked upon his ada, vulnerable and exposed and needing. He continued to spread the salve, trying not to respond sensually, but by the time he had finished his body was aflame, aching for a pleasure he had enjoyed only once – the tight clasp of his father’s body surrounding his cock. He imagined it; imagined his father making those same sweet sounds of surrender as Legolas fucked him. He bit his lip savagely, reproaching himself, and replaced the lid on the salve, setting it aside.
Thranduil moaned, sounding lost, deprived of the pleasure of hands upon him.
“You wish to touch him,” Erestor said, that silky voice coming from behind him. Legolas nodded, saying nothing. “But this Thranduil you see here is mine. I was his first. I made him. I created him out of his own desires.”
Legolas did not understand. “The same way he is creating you.” Erestor’s words dropped into place in his mind, and Legolas gasped.
“I will grant you permission to touch him,” Erestor whispered, hands on Legolas’s shoulders. He longed to shrug them off. “In as far as you give me consent to touch you.” Legolas shook his head.
“That is not fair,” he said.
“I have given no promise to be fair. Touch him as you will. And if you will not, then do not come between us.”
Looking down at his ada again, Legolas longed for help, but there was none. Thranduil, he knew, was in a place where he was lost. Legolas remembered the feeling, how frightening it was, how much he had needed his ada to anchor him. And there Thranduil was, in need of the same thing. Legolas swallowed and reached out. He would not fail in this.
As he rested his hands on his father’s hips, encouraging him up to his knees, Erestor’s hands slid down his clothed body, making him close his eyes briefly at what it meant. His dream of taking his father was gone. He would not consent to that. But Legolas could relieve him.
He was aware of Erestor sat behind him, hot palms on his hips, the heat radiating through his clothing. As he reached around to free his father’s erection, unlacing his breeches, Erestor mirrored him. Legolas faltered a little, and Thranduil groaned in need.
“Ada,” he said, trying to soothe him, but that was not required. Assurance was what was needed here. Legolas freed his father’s aching hardness, and almost whimpered when Erestor’s hand was on him, matching everything he did in absolute precision.
“Do not be afraid, neth ernil,” Erestor whispered. “I will not hurt you.”
Legolas nodded and bit his lip, beginning a smooth, easy motion with his hand that made his ada moan. Erestor copied him, and Legolas strove to remain quiet, even though the feel of another stroking his flesh seemed dangerous and forbidden. It felt different, but the pleasure was the same. His father was thrusting into his grip, and he, Legolas, was doing the same for Erestor, rocking his hips as the firm caress continued.
“I do this for him, not because I want you,” Legolas hissed, trying to withstand the pleasant sensation of the hand on him, focusing instead on watching his ada.
“Your desire is not required, merely preferred.” Erestor sounded perfectly serene. “His needs are my greatest concern.”
In that, at least, Legolas could agree with the Noldo. He gritted his teeth and stroked his father, murmuring soothing words to him – until his body began to betray him, his voice shaking as pleasure gathered under Erestor’s expert hand. Thranduil, too, was nearing his peak, shivering and pressing himself into Legolas’s hand. Legolas ached so much to kiss him, caress him, touch his nipples… but he resisted, knowing the same would be done to him, and that he must submit to it.
Thranduil moaned then. “Legolas…” his voice thick with longing, and his tongue wet his lips as he tilted his chin, seeking.
He could not kiss his father from this position. Legolas knew that, and yet he could not resist the unspoken plea. Withholding the caress for a moment, he urged Thranduil down and onto his side. It did not relieve him when Erestor’s hand ceased to torment him. He knew what was likely to happen now.
Legolas stretched out on the bed alongside Thranduil, looking into his eyes, aware that Erestor had moved to lie behind him. He tilted Thranduil’s chin up and kissed him slowly, giving him what he wanted, his hand moving down to begin stroking again.
Erestor’s hand, too, captured his erection and moved at the same pace of his own. Legolas’ squeezed his eyes closed as he continued with the kiss, aware that Erestor was watching, that he saw how long it lasted, how deep it was.
When at last he drew back from his father’s lips, he did not wait to be pulled that way, but rolled over onto his back, allowing Erestor to do what he would to replicate the kiss. For a moment the Noldo only looked down at him. Now he was aware of his father watching them. Legolas continued to move his hand over Thranduil’s hardness, and Erestor did the same.
“Ready?” he asked, though Legolas didn’t think it would matter either way, if he was or if he wasn’t. He lowered his gaze in an affirmative, and then suddenly Erestor’s lips were on his, the kiss deep and questing, as his own had been. Legolas felt Thranduil climax in his hand, and yet Erestor did not let him go, that hand pumping him with the same expert grip as the kiss continued.
He felt overwhelmed, and Erestor was different to his father. Nothing was the same about this, and yet it was similar. The pleasure building up in him felt as good. Erestor was dominating him, and his body responded. His body did not care about the difference, did not care if it was Erestor or his father, just as long as it continued.
Legolas moaned into the kiss as he came, and he felt the curve of Erestor’s lips when he felt his victory. He pulled back, teeth lingering to pull at Legolas’s bottom lip. Then he made a deliberate sound of satisfaction.
“Your father is right about you,” he said, and Legolas turned his face away. Erestor smiled at that. “You are very beautiful when you submit.” He sounded almost as if he would like to laugh, and Legolas felt himself flush with the onset of anger.
“Your father is still in need of intimate contact. I will have him, since you are unwilling to allow me that far, even for his sake.” Erestor arose and moved behind Thranduil, nestling up behind him. “You may stay or go, as you will.”
Legolas felt his temper flare at the insinuation of his cowardice, and refused to stir from his father’s bed. He belonged here more than this interloper! Thranduil had spoken his name.
But oh, it felt so wrong to hold his ada and feel another’s touch stirring the body that lay against him – to hear Thranduil’s breathing quicken and know he had not made it happen, to feel Thranduil mouthing desperate kisses against him, kisses that belonged to another.
Legolas would not look at Erestor, but he knew the Noldo was watching him, judging him, planning ways to make him agree to more. He was fiendishly clever; Legolas would never have agreed to any of this – none of it! – if not for his ada. He would do anything his ada wished, anything he needed. And Erestor knew it, and he commanded Thranduil’s will.
Thranduil, who was now moaning softly with pleasure, his breeches around his knees, enjoying the sensation of being fucked – and Legolas might have done it, if he had the courage to claim it for himself.
Legolas bit his lip, resentment mingling with reluctant awe at the skill of the Noldo’s manipulations. “You will not have things all your way, Erestor of Imladris,” he vowed quietly. But feeling his father’s seed growing sticky on his hand, remembering how Thranduil had climaxed at the sight of Erestor kissing him… he had a strong sense the battle he fought was a losing one.
Erestor merely groaned with pleasure, his embrace coming around Thranduil’s body, sliding between Legolas and his father, and tucked his head against the welted back as he spent himself inside Thranduil’s body with a quiet shudder.
At last, his father seemed to come around a little, and a heavy arm fell over Legolas, pulling him close. “Ada?” he asked, still wanting the same reassurance as earlier.
“I am here, ion nín,” he said. “Stay with me.” Legolas felt a flush of pride and love upon hearing that, and snuggled close into his father’s arms, with only a lingering look of challenge at Erestor.
He secretly hoped Erestor would leave, but knew that wasn’t likely. Failing that, he’d been prepared for Erestor to lie down at the other side of his father, leaving them to argue over him throughout the night, so when Erestor undressed and lay down behind him, Legolas froze.
Thranduil was kicking his breeches from his legs where they had been pushed down, and Legolas was suddenly surrounded by naked flesh.
“You may wish to stay clothed this night neth ernil,” Erestor whispered in his ear. “But I assure you that you will soon feel hot and suffocated between the two of us.”
“Undress, ion nín,” commanded his father tiredly. Legolas sighed, and then undressed in his place, refusing to leave the bed under any circumstances. “Better,” his father said, and draped an arm around him again.
Legolas faced his father, and Erestor lay at his back. Too close. Legolas wriggled, but he was pressed between them. One of Erestor’s hands came to rest on his waist, stilling him. “Do not fidget,” he said.
He felt vulnerable with Erestor pressed against his back, but there was no chance he would turn away from his father, and the Noldo probably knew it. Legolas sighed, and he suspected he was the last to fall asleep, fretting about what the morning would bring for the three of them.

To be continued…
Authors’ Notes: Thank you for reading – I hope you are enjoying it! Please leave us a word or two! Review responses will be found here: http://www2.adult-fanfiction.org/forum/index.php/topic/62499-prince-in-training-review-responses/
Ada: Daddy, dad, father
Ion nín: My son
Raun ernil: Errant prince
Neth ernil: Young prince
Ernil: Prince
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Prince in Training