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
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Author's Note: Many thanks to DemonGoddess061 for contributing a word in Sindarin for 'teacher' – I will leave a short list of translations at the end of this chapter. I know I've been very neglectful in that sense recently.

Chapter Twenty-four

“Elrond,” Thranduil said instantly, and the façade of his gaze cracked just a little. Just enough so that Elrond could see the loneliness in him. “Please...”

The 'please' Thranduil uttered wasn't nameless. It was a plea for something in particular, for purpose and clarity. It was a plea for something that he'd resisted giving to Thranduil all of this time. The thoughts flashed through his mind so quickly. What would this mean? What would it do? But then the answers to those questions would come, because there was no refusal in him now, despite his misgivings.

Elrond didn't take Thranduil's hand. Instead, he folded his fingers around the King's wrist. It was a subtle difference, but one he was certain Thranduil appreciated.

“Come with me,” he said briskly, and pulled on Thranduil's wrist as he made his way out of the study. He led Thranduil to the suite of rooms he was staying in. These weren't the same rooms Legolas had taken long ago, and for that Elrond was glad. Such might only have confused him, and that would lessen his authority now.

Elrond didn't need to ask or to consult Thranduil about his likes, his needs, or even his limits. The King could have no business setting limits that he hadn't granted to Elrond himself. Which, he reflected, left rather a large scope of games and practices for them to indulge in.

The first one though. At the thought of it, Elrond felt his heart falter. Perhaps his body would betray him? For Thranduil's sake, he hoped not. He had no thought for himself. It was late for that, and it would seem he had indulged himself for far too long.

When they entered, Elrond instructed Thranduil to lock the door, then looked around for a chair. He found a suitable one. Low enough to the floor, but high backed and upholstered. It was perfect for his purposes. Elrond picked it up and placed it just a short distance from the space in the middle of the room. He was aware of Thranduil watching him do all of this, but didn't look in that direction.

Elrond stood still. He held his hand out, palm upwards. “Key,” he said simply. When he felt the metal pressed into his hand he drew it to him and looked at it. Thranduil was intelligent, and he would see this symbolism for what it was – consent. Elrond closed his eyes briefly, then drew in a deep breath. He put the key into a pocket of his robes, then turned to regard Thranduil, the chair a step or so behind him.

“Draw the curtains,” he ordered, and Thranduil busied himself with doing exactly that. In the meantime, Elrond seated himself comfortably, and as he did so, he began to appreciate the drama of all these little contrivances. They had been purposefully done, and yet it added a certain touch of theatre that he found himself enjoying. Probably far more than he should.

The chair he had chosen was lower to the floor than the others, and that meant he could sprawl in it, legs stretched out in front of him in an attitude of careless audience. Thranduil, finished with the drapes, came to stand in the centre of the room, before him. Like entertainment. The light was muted now, though the day outside was bright enough that some light still filtered through. Enough for this.

Elrond waved a hand at Thranduil. “Undress,” he commanded, secretly thrilled when the King began to obey immediately.

Nothing about this was as he expected it to be, and Elrond had to restrain himself from leaning forward, so interested did he become in what Thranduil was doing. Strong, proud, arrogant, experienced Thranduil was, and yet his fingers actually fumbled once or twice, and Elrond found himself suppressing a smile too. He remembered how it felt.

Little by little, Thranduil was exposing himself in front of Elrond. His silver hair falling down over his bare shoulders as the elven King worked on the coverings of his lower body. As beautiful as he ever was, as beautiful as he'd been in his own palace centuries ago when the vision of him had imprinted itself on Elrond's imagination and fantasies forever.

Despite himself, Elrond found himself leaning forward as Thranduil bared more and more skin to his eyes. He drew up his knees to rest his arms on them, and found he didn't care if he was giving himself away.

When he was done, he stood tall and staight, head bowed in a submission Elrond hadn't yet demanded of him. His body was strong and muscular, his limbs long and shapely. His member was no fully erect, but it would not take much, and it rested against Thranduil's upper thigh, darker in tone than the rest of him, long and thick.

“Thranduil,” Elrond said at last, his voice slightly husky with sudden rekindled desire, even after all this time. The King looked up. “Here,” he ordered, pointing to the floor at his feet, and something in his heart expanded when Thranduil obeyed him.

Elrond parted his knees so that Thranduil could kneel between them, then held that familiar face in his hands. He'd seen Thranduil in a million different guises. Mischievous, obstinate, bored, cruel, loving, pleading, cold, even selfish. He seen this look on him too. Quiet submission. But Elrond had never inspired it before. He'd only ever seen the look Thranduil wore now displayed to one person, and she was gone. Elrond frowned then, but put the thought to one side to deal with later. It had no place here.

Obviously, Thranduil thought the frown was a part of the game they were playing, because he actually blushed. Elrond was utterly enchanted. He leaned closer still, and as he inhaled he could smell the sweet almond oil that Thranduil must have bathed in that morning.

That moment earlier in his study hadn't counted as a kiss, Elrond thought. So he inclined his head to rectify it, strands of Thranduil's silken hair between his fingers as their lips touched. He opened his mouth slightly, and Thranduil mirrored him, giving him what he wanted. He felt Thranduil's hands come up to cover his as he slid his tongue into the King's mouth, but they didn't push him away or try to stop him.

It wasn't like other kisses they had shared, because Elrond was directing it this time, even if Thranduil tasted exactly the same. Although it wasn't really a taste, he decided. Instead he was aware of a slight sensation of coolness, as if Thranduil ran at a slightly lower temperature than himself. He tasted of clear water, of life. Elrond couldn't help wanting more of it.

Thranduil's tongue was pushed down, flat against his bottom teeth, and Elrond curled his own tongue to tickle at the roof of his mouth, gratified when Thranduil swayed towards him with a moan that was muffled by the kiss.

By the time Elrond drew back, Thranduil's eyes had darkened. Sometimes emerald, but mostly peridot, now they were as green as the boughs of the trees under which he'd lived most of his long life. Elrond could have become lost in the way Thranduil looked at him, but it was not time for that. So as to keep him confused and off balance, Elrond suddenly let him go, and Thranduil's hands dropped to rest on Elrond's knees, as if just waiting for an instruction.

If their positions were reversed, he knew what Thranduil would want from him now, and so Elrond determined to take a different line, even though he desperately wanted to have Thranduil pleasure him. He could feel his own arousal, heavy against his leg beneath his clothing. Despite the years, his body recognised his old lover easily, and longed for him.

“I know you have brought it with you,” he said, hoping Thranduil would know what he meant, because surely the same thing was in his mind too. The thing they had never done. The thing they were going to do here, now, even if under the layers of a game Thranduil seemed to require. “Bring it to me.”

Thranduil blinked and then stood up, walking over to a small set of drawers. He came back with a small bottle of oil, his own favourite which he had brought with him from the Greenwood.

“Turn around and get on your knees. Face to the floor,” he instructed, and Thranduil carried out his directions so gracefully, submitted so easily Elrond almost faltered as he undid the bottle. At least, facing away from him, Thranduil hadn't caught it. Elrond scolded himself silently. This had to be seamless.

He leaned forward again, and Thranduil's new, more humiliating position meant that his posterior was raised in the air, right in front of Elrond. For a moment, Elrond did nothing but draw gentle circles over Thranduil's buttocks with his fingertips. The King was breathing quickly, almost ragged when Elrond used the fingers of one hand to hold his buttocks apart.

Shaking some of the oil into his free hand, Elrond set the small bottle aside, and sighed. It's scent was familiar. He knew Thranduil had to have brought this with him. It was the same oil Legolas had brought when he came to Elrond for his first experiences, and it had been used on Elrond himself many times. Never had it been used for this. At least, not by him, he noted with a raised eyebrow.

Surprised, he stroked his oiled fingers over Thranduil's entrance while the elf-King gasped and swayed invitingly. But Elrond knew, and it had to be woven in, played with. Thranduil would expect nothing less. Thranduil had been with someone very recently, intimately, as Elrond intended to be with him. It was clear to see.

“Who else knows you this way?” demanded Elrond, ensuring his voice was deep and dominant.

“Ai!” gasped Thranduil as he pressed a finger into him, doing it deliberately just when he would have been preparing to answer. “Celeborn...” Thranduil said with a little moan as Elrond moved his finger in and out, slow, steady. “...he has been visiting of late. He,” here Thranduil paused, clearly wondering what to say next, “...offers me affection.”

“Yes,” said Elrond, and in his mind he tried to imagine that he was instructing a servant or dealing with some kind of dreary day-to-day business, else he would not have the self-control to resist and would give up the act. “He may think to please you. I do not.” The slow in and out of his finger was affecting him more than he would have predicted even a few minutes ago. Hands and fingers are very sensitive. As a healer he knew that. And while this was personal and intimate to Thranduil, to him it was intimate in another way. He could feel Thranduil's muscles, deep inside, relaxed and yet pulsing around that one digit, proof of his desire. “I do this for my pleasure.” Every word he spoke he used to heighten the sense of domination for Thranduil's sake, and through the touch, he knew how well it was working.

“Your own is merely incidental,” he added, and Thranduil groaned quietly. Now that he had one finger inside, he had no need to hold Thranduil's buttocks with his other hand, so he reached beneath him now to find his erection, hard and no doubt aching. He curled his fingers around it, and pumped once, twice, three times before letting go, much to Thranduil's dismay if his whispered oath was to be believed. “I know you cannot help it.”

As gently as he could, Elrond added a second finger to the first, twisting them around together to get deeper. “You will continue with him,” he said then. “It pleases me.” Thranduil voiced a deep moan of desire, and something occurred to Elrond. Something he knew Thranduil would appreciate very keenly.

“Whenever he uses you this way, you will tell me,” Elrond said, feeling very wicked and extremely surprised to find he liked the sensation, “and I will give you a reward.”

“Ai...” Yes. Now he would urge Celeborn to take him at every opportunity, so as to make the report, and to Thranduil, it would seem as if he was being used even when they were apart. “Elrond...” Something in his voice was finally beginning to sound broken, as if he had not expected Elrond to take up the role so well.

“Address me as you once did, long ago and far away from here, thann bŷr nín.”

“Pengolodh...” Thranduil said immediately, and hearing the old title from Thranduil did not have the result Elrond had been afraid of. Instead of feeling wrong and dampening his desire, he had a sudden need to take Thranduil, to make him say it again and again. Instead he continued with the internal massage for a few moments longer, as he registered his own arousal, his breath becoming heavier with lust.

“I wanted you,” Thranduil confessed quietly, “from the very moment I began to understand such things.”

He was talking about when Elrond had been Pengolodh to him in truth. He'd taught Thranduil as a child, through adolescence and on into young adulthood. The crush had been obvious, and Elrond had hoped it would die over time. When Thranduil went east with Oropher to found the Kingdom of Amon Lanc, he supposed it had. When Thranduil married, he was certain it had. But then there had been that day... now was not the time for these thoughts! Elrond pushed them away too. “Oh, I know you did,” he replied at last. “I marked it. I ignored it. It was the right thing to do.”

Elrond finished with his fingers, drawing them out slowly before standing up and motioning for Thranduil to follow him to the bed.

“And now?” Thranduil asked as he laid down upon it, so bewitching, some question in his eyes that Elrond needed to answer the right way. The only way he could, given that his body had most definitely not let him down. His body knew things his mind did not, and it wanted Thranduil. Elrond frowned as he removed his clothes hastily, taking himself in hand at last, smoothing the last of the oil over his erection.

“No more ignorance,” he promised, and he did not miss Thranduil's genuine smile as he turned away onto his side, allowing Elrond to tuck in behind him.

So it was now. Elrond closed his eyes. He guided himself true, and let his body do what it wanted. Somewhere in his mind, the little voice that had protested against this inevitability for so long gave one last warning, then was silent forever. As it turned out, it hadn't been foresight after all. Only concern misplaced by some several hundred decades.

To be continued...

Author's Note: Hope you enjoyed. More to come. Why not leave a comment? I will respond to them here: http://www2.adult-fanfiction.org/forum/index.php/topic/55964-pippychicks-lotr-fiction-review-responses/

Translations:

pengolodh – teacher of lore

thann bŷr nín – my true follower

bainnon nín – my beautiful

peredhil – half-elf

meleth nín – my love

mellon (nín) – friend (my)

talan – a wooden platform in the trees of Lothlórien

Nazgûl – Ringwraith (Black Speech)

lendeth nín – my sweet

flet – house

aníra-nín – my desire

lass nín – my leaf

Elrondlas – Elrondleaf
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The Teacher