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
- 2
- 3
- 4
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: Here you have the next part of Elrond’s story. Thanks go to my two lovely reviewers.

@Binky: I’m so glad that you like my version of Oropher! I really like to see him and Elrond together myself, although Tolkien did kill him off, so I guess I will have to write that too at some point…

@Lady Cel: Thank you so much for your comments! I’m really glad to know that others are enjoying this story :)

Chapter Two

II 2000

Turning his horse when the last of his party were across the river, Elrond cast a glance back across where the border guards of Lothlórien were stood waving them off. A thought crossed his mind that he hadn’t meant to end up here… Strange. But then the Lady Galadriel had been so expectant that he hadn’t even thought twice about it. Of course, had he been asked, he would say he was happy to visit Amon Lanc as well – perhaps. But he hadn’t been asked. His prime purpose here was already fulfilled – the promise to visit Lórien as the Lord of Imladris. Yet somehow here he was, heading for the Kingdom on the eastern side of the river.

He knew whose Kingdom it was, and that is why, although he would have said he was happy to be visiting, he would also have avoided it as far as possible. Elrond frowned at the western bank suspiciously. Between the trees he caught a glimpse of a short and slight figure with flowing white robes and silver hair.

Celebrían no doubt… Elrond sighed. His visit had been pleasant, but the child had done nothing but attempt to annoy him throughout. Perhaps, by the time he saw Celebrían again, she would show a little more decorum. Elrond shook his head and bade his horse onward. It was a full ten minutes before he remembered that he hadn’t intended to visit Amon Lanc.

When they arrived, the difference between the two realms and how they were run was apparent. While the border guards of Lothlórien had been effective and orderly, here, they were simply asked to wait in a clearing in the middle of the woods. One by one, servants came to accompany his aides and scribes away, until Elrond found himself quite alone. Another servant came for his horse, and he began to feel uncomfortable.

Without really thinking about it, he absently allowed his right hand to rest on the hilt of his sword. His eyes scanned the trees as he waited, but he was quite alone.

As he waited, he tried to bring Oropher to mind, and he began to feel nervous. Would he be welcome here after so long? Would Oropher even remember him? Elrond closed his eyes, and remembered those laughing blue eyes. Was Oropher as beautiful as his recollections, or was it partly fancy? His heart sped up in frightened anticipation, and then he heard it – a slight rustling behind him. He spun around to find Oropher sat on a hillock of grass watching him.

“Welcome, half elf,” he said with a smile. Elrond staggered back a step or two.

“I d-didn’t know you were there,” Elrond blurted out, and then almost groaned at the stupidity of it. Oropher only laughed, but then jumped up and walked forward. Elrond stepped back again, but then realised the futility of the retreat and allowed Oropher to reach him. The King was smiling – he was more beautiful than Elrond remembered – and he felt himself smiling back as if he had been commanded to do it.

“Walk with me,” Oropher suggested, and took his arm to lead him away, leaving the clearing empty at last.

They walked beneath the trees that surrounded the hill, a natural avenue of silver birch trees. As they walked in silence he looked up as if to escape from Oropher’s knowing, amused gaze. Above him the silver birch raised their ivory arms and slender fingers towards the blue sky. A slight breeze made their leaves tremble and shimmer, some of them giving up their tenuous hold to flutter delicately to the carpeted ground beneath like golden confetti.

“It has taken a while, half elf, but you have followed me.” Elrond stopped walking and shook his head.

“I certainly have not,” he returned with a disbelieving grin. Quick as a flash, Oropher turned and pushed him, until he found himself pressed back against the trunk of a tree, fighting for his breath at the desire that rushed through him.

The electricity was back – Oropher – and for a moment Elrond couldn’t do anything save look into his eyes and hope for more.

“A pity,” Oropher deliberated, sliding a leg between Elrond’s thighs deliberately to torment him – it worked. “Since I was going to reward you with a kiss.”

Elrond licked his lips, and his gaze fell to Oropher’s mouth, his lips generous and full, a perfect pink, curved slightly into a smile that was not arrogant, only playful. “You were?” he asked, as though he were pleading.

“Do you think that is something you deserve, half elf?” he asked in amusement, allowing Elrond to pull him close. Elrond buried his face in Oropher’s hair, noting distantly how he smelled – like fresh air and woodland.

“Yes,” he demanded urgently, his lips racing over the blond elf’s neck and up towards the lobe of his ear.

“Ohh,” Oropher moaned softly, and Elrond felt that sigh in his entire body. All he could think of was how Oropher would taste, how he would feel, how he would –

“Only I wonder why you waited three centuries to visit me.” At the reproach in Oropher’s tone, Elrond finally came back to his senses. He drew back as far as he was able and opened his eyes, almost sighing when he realised once more that his beautiful Oropher was stood before him. His pulse began to race again as his old lover smiled at him, and he could feel himself trembling, as though this was all brand new – and then he knew why he had stayed away.

“I was afraid,” he admitted quietly, showing a vulnerability here that he hadn’t shown to anyone in hundreds of years. Oropher tilted his head to one side inquisitively, and Elrond had to hold in a giggle at the unconsciously attractive display.

“Of what, half elf?”

“So many things,” Elrond sighed. “That you might have forgotten about us. That you might have changed.” He shook his head. “I do not know,” he said awkwardly, beginning to feel miserable and looking away from Oropher to the forest around them.

The first velvet touch of lips on his made him melt in Oropher’s embrace, and he moaned, parting his lips in invitation – an invitation Oropher took advantage of immediately. He feared he would fall, Oropher’s tongue in his mouth, Oropher’s hard body pressing him back against the tree until he realised he was aroused. The King ground against him slightly, and Elrond tried to voice his desire as Oropher possessed his mouth.

When Oropher pulled back, Elrond gasped and kept his eyes closed, knowing that if he opened them he would be lost. “Well, half elf?” Oropher inquired. “Have I changed?” He ground his hips against Elrond again to draw an answer from him, and Elrond groaned suddenly as if it hurt him.

“Oh, please!”

Oropher laughed lightly, and Elrond opened his eyes then, knowing he had lost anyway.

“Yes… you sometimes like to beg if I remember correctly.” Elrond looked down self-consciously, feeling out of his depth with his old lover. But then, he had always felt that way with Oropher – as if he was out of control – the only trouble was that he had spent so long surrounded by those who catered to his needs that he truly felt uncomfortable now.

He felt himself blushing, and the more he tried to control it, the worse it became, with Oropher’s amused smirk on the edge of his vision, infuriating him even more.

“Has it been so long, half elf?” Oropher asked perceptively, as though he knew everything – just like he was before, so long ago. “You need me,” he stated, and Elrond shook his head, trying to move away from the blond’s embrace now.

“I need –” He had been about to say that he needed to be left alone, but then he made the mistake of looking into Oropher’s endless blue eyes, and he sighed. It was autumn around them. The trees were golden like fields of corn after a summer full of sun. The year itself was ripe and ready to fall – and so was he. As he looked at Oropher, he felt the blessing of the coming Spring – it’s warmth and promise flirted with him in Oropher’s eyes – and he couldn’t possibly finish the sentence.

“I need you,” he said softly, knowing it was true because of the fear he felt. The fear of losing decorum and propriety. He did need Oropher, but what was in it for the King? He had a family now; land, subjects, responsibilities… Then he saw it, and he laughed a little, despite his fluttering stomach and racing heartbeat.

“You need me,” he said in wonder, remembering the light-hearted and flirtacious nature of their relationship long before, in Lindon, where he had mostly given as good as he had got when it came to teasing. Was it still in him? Elrond wondered, and as he did so, he smiled with the echo of every one of their memories in his mind, and he saw Oropher eyes darken in response.

“I thought I would be waiting for you forever, meleth nín,” Oropher admitted in a voice so low it was almost a longing sigh.

There was a good reason not to be seduced like this. Elrond knew it, but he couldn’t stop himself from falling under Oropher’s spell. They had been first, before anyone else. First for each other, and that became his reasoning as he gladly allowed Oropher to lead him on, knowing that there was nothing to really take.

Was it a week or a month before Elrond faced the truth? The last golden days of mid-autum poured over their lives like syrup – sweet and intense – loving and drinking in all they could of each other as though they had thirsted for centuries.

Avoiding the truth was easy, as long as Elrond made sure that all he knew in a day was Oropher’s body, his perfect warm skin and endless blue eyes. But it was the eyes that would eventually bring the short affair to a halt.

Often, Elrond went walking alone to reflect, aware that those who had travelled here with him were restless to be moving on and going home. They had been away for several months in total. When someone joined him, at first Elrond thought it was one of his own, until he looked up, and found the Prince regarding him thoughtfully.

It was the eyes that ended everything, because although Thranduil looked almost exactly like Oropher, there was one important difference – his eyes were a piercing green, like his mother’s.

It had to stop, this affair between Oropher and himself. Authiriel had sailed west after the war in Eriador – Oropher himself had explained the reasons why. How it was that she had lost her father and brothers in the war, and how impossible it had been for Oropher to console her. Elrond had felt a stab of guilt then, because he hadn’t known how alone his old lover had been, and he could at least have been a friend, and made the letting go easier.

As it was, now, instead of offering comfort, he was helping Oropher to betray her memory and the reality of their eventual reunion in Valinor. It was inexcusable, irresponsible and rogueish – all qualities he would swear he didn’t possess, and yet Oropher encouraged them in him. He would talk to Oropher soon, and end this dalliance once more.

“I need your advice, Lord Elrond,” Thranduil confided suddenly, breaking into Elrond’s thoughts, his eyes narrowing as he worried his bottom lip. He was centuries old, but in that moment he seemed so very young to Elrond, and he saw not quite the adult, but the child he had taught centuries earlier.

Smiling, Elrond laid a hand on Thranduil’s arm as they walked, thankful that his affair with Oropher had been kept secret from the people of Amon Lanc, and from the Prince.

“Anything I can do for you, pen neth,” Elrond said warmly. “You know I will do it.”

The Prince stopped walking, and sighed, looking at the trees and smiling a little. “I have been courting the maid Nimbrethil for a while now,” he began, and Elrond’s eyes widened. Evidently, he and Oropher weren’t the only ones to keep secrets. “I need your advice because I desire very much to marry her.” Thranduil looked troubled. “I am uncertain, though. How does one go about these things?”

Elrond took an involuntary step back when Thranduil suddenly turned on his heel to regard him. His gaze was so forthright and direct that Elrond felt a little overwhelmed by it. He hadn’t spent much time with Thranduil during his visit, and now at last he appreciated how much the youth he once knew had changed. His mouth went dry and he swallowed before speaking.

“Could you not approach your father with this?” he asked faintly, managing to wonder why Thranduil hadn’t asked Oropher. Once again, Thranduil turned away, and Elrond felt grateful for the loss of the eye contact, though he couldn’t have said why.

“I do not want to draw his attention to our happiness yet, because I fear to unsettle him. When my mother left he was…” Thranduil’s voice trailed off, as though he was thinking, and he closed his eyes. “I do not want to cause him to remember what he has lost, however temporary that loss might be.”

Immediately, Elrond felt guilty again, and in his mind the decision to let Oropher go gained strength. But through his own preoccupation, he caught the inference in Thranduil’s words, and he smiled.

“She will accept you then? Are you sure of this?” He felt happy when Thranduil nodded slowly, despite his companion’s obvious concern for his father. “Then you should approach your father. I am sure he will only be happy for your choice.”

If there was one thing he knew, it was that this news would lighten Oropher’s heart. They had not just become close again physically. Once more they had rekindled their friendship, and Elrond knew how much Oropher feared his sadness at the departure of Authiriel would discourage Thranduil from seeking love for himself.

“You are certain?” Thranduil asked, once again looking straight at him, and Elrond met that gaze with a confident smile.

“I know it,” Elrond replied, and Thranduil smiled.

“You are a great friend to us all, peredhel,” he said, and Elrond’s smile faltered at hearing the pet name fall from the lips of his lover’s son. “Since you came here he has shed some of the sadness, I think,” Thranduil continued, a little secret quirk to his lips that made Elrond wonder just how much he knew. To deflect the suspicion, Elrond changed the subject.

“I wish you and Nimbrethil all the happiness you deserve,” he said lightly, and was slightly dicomfitted when Thranduil laughed, seemingly at him.

“Happiness? Oh, yes… we will be ‘happy.’” Thranduil nodded, and then grinned. “I would do anything for her,” he vowed. “Anything she asks…”

It sounded somewhat as though Thranduil meant something else, but what Elrond couldn’t be quite certain. It was obvious he was happy though, and so he urged the Prince to speak to his father as well as her parents, sure that this match would only cause happiness to all those involved.

Elrond left Amon Lanc later that very week, after he had witnessed Oropher’s joy at the upcoming union. Although he attempted to end their relationship, the King extracted a promise from him to return for the wedding some months later, and Elrond consented because he did not want to slight Thranduil. He knew that Oropher intended to continue with him, however, and he had no idea how to stop it.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
III 140

In the morning, Elrond felt as though he hadn’t rested, his dreams of Oropher and Thranduil had exhausted him, and he went to breakfast with little appetite.

Indeed, he found little desire for food, and instead spent much of the meal watching Legolas at the other end of the table, speaking politely with Glorfindel – about Imladris’ defences if the animated replies the Captain graced him with were any indication.

After an amount of time, Legolas glanced his way, smiling at something Glorfindel had said, and Elrond couldn’t help feeling the young Prince was laughing at him. He looked so much like his grandfather when he smiled, mischievous and charismatic, but there was something of Thranduil in him too, and his smile seemed to say that he knew what Elrond was thinking.

If it had been suggested, he would have strongly denied that he was fleeing from the table – after all, he wasn’t hungry. Yet that is what it felt like, and he sensed Legolas’ attention on him as he walked away, his stomach clenching in nervousness for what he had to do.

There was no choice.

To be continued…

Author’s Note: Thank you for reading, I hope you are enjoying it. Please don’t forget to leave a few words before you go! :)
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The Teacher