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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: Ok, so I may be a bit slower, since I have a cold that does not want to leave, but I've had this chapter written for a while. I adored writing Celeborn, even though he really is a terrible tease here. He'll be back later in the story. But for now, I hope you enjoy him too.

Chapter Thirty-five

“Mae govannen, Lord Celeborn,” Elrond said warmly, seeing him approach. He felt happy, actually very content. It was a perfect midsummer evening, the light was beginning to turn, and Elrond was stood outside the entrance to Thranduil's underground palace, staring deep into the woods as he reflected. Celeborn had stepped out of them like some kind of half-forgotten dream, until Elrond had recognised him.

For the moment, Thranduil and Legolas were in deep discussion with the border patrol leaders, and were poring over maps to try and keep an accurate record of the locations of the spiders' territories. They had both acquired a sudden suspicious interest in having safe paths for travel between their own woodland realm and Imladris, and Lórien. So now they were quite busy, and while it was heartening to see them working so closely together, it left both Celeborn and himself at a surprising loose end.

“Elrond, meldir nín,” Celeborn greeted him as he lifted the hem of the silver-white robe he wore to walk up the few stone steps before the cave entrance. He stopped in front of Elrond, however, and gave him an inquisitive look. “Thranduil tells me you are curious about us?”

Elrond felt his composure desert him at the direct question, and he became quite flustered. Thranduil had told him?! Elrond was astonished, and a little mortified. “Well, I –” he began, perhaps meaning to apologise, but then Celeborn spoke over him easily. How, Elrond could never later recall, for he didn't raise his voice above his usual serene tone, nor did he rush to speak.

“Oh, do not be angry with him,” he said, that fair voice full of love. “He tells me everything.” Celeborn smiled and inhaled the sweet woodland air, turning around to gaze back out at the forest too, everything outlined starkly as the day drew to a hushed close. “He cannot help it.”

Stuck for what to say next, Elrond turned to look at the Lord of Lórien. Celeborn was very tall, like Galadriel herself, taller than him. Yet, he, Elrond, was tall enough. “All of your lovers have been younger than you,” Celeborn announced without turning his head.

“Yes,” Elrond replied, perplexed as to what Celeborn could mean by such a statement.

“So,” he said, and then he finally turned to regard Elrond with his mysterious grey eyes. “Are you curious, pen neth?”

“I... I don't know,” Elrond said slowly, because he felt he must say something, and he was confused by the way Celeborn referred to him while his mind was still struggling to catch up.

He had known Celeborn for centuries, millennia, and just as it had many times before, it occurred to Elrond how beautiful he was. Looking upon him had the same calming effect on Elrond as observing the forest at dusk, and he relaxed again. He could not help it. They had been friends for too long. For many centuries now they had even been family.

“Ah,” said Celeborn kindly. “If you are uncertain, I often find that the correct answer is yes.”

Is that what Celeborn wanted to hear him say? “Yes,” Elrond said, attentive as ever to the older elf's advice, entranced by the way Celeborn was speaking, and only then did he remember to wonder. Curious about what?

“Good. For if you are curious, then I would show you something.” Celeborn stepped close, as if to embrace him, as they had so many times before in friendship. Elrond opened his arms instinctively, allowing the taller elf Lord into his personal space without a single qualm. The light was fading, and it seemed to Elrond as if what little was left was attracted to Celeborn. He almost seemed to shine, right there on the edge of that night in Eryn Galen, like a star. When Celeborn bent his head and kissed him, it didn't even occur to Elrond to try and stop him.

He was kissing a dear friend. What could be wrong with that? Elrond gave way before Celeborn without any misgivings whatsoever, those elegant, long-fingered hands cradling his face so softly they almost tickled, and sent a shiver running through him. Elrond had his arms around Celeborn's waist, and yet his hands only reached as far as the Lórien Lord's shoulder blades. It didn't seem like a particularly aggressive kiss, and yet Elrond was enticed to open his mouth, allowing Celeborn to explore him deeply. When Celeborn had tasted him, he drew back, and Elrond swayed forwards, his head still tilted back and his lips parted as if begging for more. “Yes... very beautiful,” Celeborn observed.

“You are,” Elrond replied, completely enthralled now, caught in the depths of Celeborn's eyes, and the Lord laughed. It was such a wonderful sound, a match for Celebrían's singing. If he'd had the presence of mind, Elrond would have been shocked by the strength of the desire that raced through him then. He imagined how it would be to have Celeborn in his bed, writhing in pleasure at his touch. Or, even better, how it would feel to be the recipient of all Celeborn's attention.

He is your elder. And mine... don't you sense it when you are together? How does he make you feel?

“Sublime,” Elrond sighed, answering the question in his mind that he had put to Thranduil about Celeborn. But, no. That was not right. It was a question he had put to Thranduil about Celeborn's age.

As if... I cannot think far enough ahead to deny you. Sometimes, it seems as though you have always been on the path laid out before me, and it has taken so long to get here, where you are. It is as if you are the whole world, and at my very best I only exist within you.

Yes, that was it, Elrond thought dizzily. Thranduil was quite right. The words made perfect sense now. He knew he was pressing himself close to Celeborn, and couldn't help it. The thought that Celeborn might touch, might desire, might... Elrond lost the thread of his thoughts and sighed, quite helpless.

Instead of that, the Lord laid a gentle, steadying hand on his shoulder and walked around him so that they were facing the palace entrance. “Now do you see how irresistible you are to each of them?” he asked reverently, drawing Elrond's attention to it. Each of them, Elrond thought, and in his mind he thought he saw Oropher standing there waiting, one hand raised up to welcome him, surely a memory. Then Thranduil and Nimbrethil. Legolas. It was like seeing a vision of love that lasted through the ages. But the vision could not be them, because some of them were already lost. It was him. He was the love that lasted through the ages.

All of a sudden, he found himself remembering the spellbound look Thranduil had given him when he'd promised forever. He saw himself through their eyes, and through their eyes, he and Celeborn held the same timeless allure. This was not a seduction. Instead, Celeborn was teaching him something, and Elrond paid close attention.

“One after the other they fall,” Celeborn said musically, close to his ear. “Further, deeper with each generation. It is you they want, yet it is also not you. It is age. For age, to us, is like an aphrodisiac for the soul.”

The words were so enchanting, Elrond felt he must fall and drown in them. “How do you know this?” he asked.

“Galadriel is my elder,” Celeborn said simply, and Elrond looked up at him suddenly. Celeborn inclined his head in confirmation, his grey eyes gathering the last light of day before darkness fell. Celeborn, like Galadriel, was older than him. All of them, including Elrond himself, were ancient now. But Galadriel, born in the Years of the Trees, she must have told Celeborn this herself, the lesson that Celeborn was passing on to him. She'd almost managed to give him some of this knowledge in Imladris before Mithrandir had interrupted. She had been speaking to him without words.

Now that Elrond had seen it, he couldn't unsee it, and Celeborn appeared to him now as a source of endless fascination. And this...? This was how he seemed to Thranduil, to Celebrían, and especially to Legolas, the youngest of his lovers.

“Tell me, Elrond,” he said softly, raising a hand to touch Elrond's face with his fingertips, brushing a thumb over his jaw, just that simple caress inspiring an aching soul-deep lust that Elrond could not control or deny. “How should I interpret your games with Thranduil and I if you are not... curious?”

“Love,” Elrond offered immediately, even though his mind was filled with the complicated nature of what Thranduil needed from him. His admission of loss, loneliness and grief in Imladris. His desire for pain by Elrond's hand. His need for healing. Celeborn nodded as if he could see all of that. As if the one word had explained it all, and maybe it did.

“Oh, yes. It is...” he sighed and smiled indulgently, as if distracted by some private thought, “very important.”

“I am sorry,” Elrond said, fearing he had hurt Celeborn in some way. Feeling as if he had cheapened him, and now it was imperative he admitted to his mistake, and corrected it.

“Thranduil will make no further 'reports' to you about me, Elrond,” Celeborn said with infinite tolerance, but also some amusement. “Show kindness and do not ask him.”

“Yes,” Elrond said, then became confused again. “I mean, no. I mean, of course I...” Celeborn laughed again as his voice trailed off, and Elrond did not think he could ever tire of hearing it.

“Be gentler with him than he asks. To him, your touch is more profound than you realise.”

Of course it was, Elrond thought. He remembered some of Thranduil's reactions, and how surprised he'd been to find he could inspire them so easily. How lost Thranduil had become during those darker sessions, so that Elrond could only hold him until he returned to reality, completely taken with Thranduil's trust and faith in him. And yet, Thranduil had asked for it. He'd asked for pain and domination because it physically excited him, but what he really wanted was to be utterly overwhelmed. To be possessed. To become lost somewhere that, ultimately, was safe.

“Very good,” said Celeborn, as if he were following Elrond's thoughts. Perhaps Galadriel had taught him that too. “Now, come with me into the woods.” He descended the steps again, slowly, yet Elrond almost felt he was hurrying to keep up.

“Why?” he asked.

“I have travelled from Lórien, in part to speak with you, Peredhil, and I have not finished with you yet.” Elrond stopped at those words. If he was thinking clearly, even now, he might have expected to feel some trepidation, but there was none, and Celeborn turned to look back at him. He beckoned, and Elrond felt his feet begin to move again, as if it was completely out of his control. “Do not be afraid, mellon neth nín.” Celeborn took his hand, closing his fingers around Elrond's, his palm was warm. “Walk with me.”

“Will you take him from me?” he asked as they passed below the first of the trees in the gathering dark, worried now about that very thing. Because surely if he wanted to, Celeborn could take Thranduil from him, so easily. Was that why he had come?

“Elrond,” Celeborn said in reproach, turning to look at him again. “We do not take, we only give.” He frowned. “Have you not followed your own story to that conclusion yet?”

“I do not understand,” Elrond said as they resumed walking hand in hand. Behind them, the giant braziers outside the palace were lit by some unnamed servant and flared into life, so that a golden glow danced and flickered among the leaves that surrounded them. It made this part of the wood feel enclosed and intimate.

“Have you cast any one of your lovers aside forever, like the mortals do?” Celeborn asked, seeming distracted by the reflections of firelight on the trees, to the point where he reached out as if to touch those dancing shadows.

“No,” Elrond replied, troubled, thinking of Thranduil. Perhaps not forever, but he had made Thranduil wait for more than an age. Suddenly, he felt very guilty, after what Celeborn had showed him. To desire like that, for so long. But then he also remembered Oropher, and his dramatics when Elrond refused to accompany him into the east. Elrond had laughed at him, because even then he had known it was not the end. And time had proved him to be right. Of course it had. Just as time had brought Thranduil to him again, as if for his further consideration. As if to allow him to compensate for an earlier error of judgement.

“It is not in our nature. Centuries may pass, but you will never completely abandon those whom you love, and neither will they abandon you.” Celeborn cast his gaze up towards the tree tops, then looked back down, weaving them in a path that took them through the very edge of the forest. “Thranduil will always want you. He will always want me. I will always want Galadriel, and she –” Here, he appeared to collect himself, smiling, squeezing Elrond's hand. Or perhaps, Elrond thought, slightly disturbed, he might be perusing a mental list of candidates. “She will always want Haldir. Do you understand what I am telling you?”

“No,” Elrond said honestly, and when Celeborn looked at him, he said: “I am trying.”

“Haldir is so much younger than her,” he continued. “I am afraid he is completely under her spell. It is very...” He laughed under his breath, “amusing, to watch. Yet Haldir will never stop loving Celebrían. Not even if Galadriel forbade him to love her, outright.”

Now they were back to the tree line again, not too far from the cave entrance, but far enough so their conversation was private. “Love expands, Elrond,” he said patiently, then looked around him at the trees. Elrond followed his gaze. “Love grows, like the trees. Love endures, like us. And we endure like the stars.” He looked away from the trees towards the west at the sky there, now a deep blue, and the first stars were beginning to come out.

“If you do not understand, then look to the quality of the light.” Elrond found himself looking at the sky too, feeling completely bewitched, staring at the Evening Star as it rose just above the verdant green treetops.

It is waiting for you, Eärendilion. In the end, the twilight reveals all.

It was not until much later on that Elrond realised Celeborn had not spoken out loud. A flurry of half-formed thoughts and worries about eternity spilled from him as he looked upon the twinkling stars, seeing them as constellations, connected to each other with invisible threads. They were thoughts he didn't even realise he had. “But how shall we all be resolved? How will we come to rest? How shall we ever know peace?” It seemed impossible to him then.

“You are but one part of an endless, intricate dance that you cannot see. Step where you will, Elrond. Every movement you make only enhances its beauty.”

“You, like all of us, are caught within it, are part of it.” Celeborn still looked at the Evening Star, and it was as if the reflection of it gleamed in his eyes. “You cannot harm it, can do no wrong. It holds you to be a singular expression of a greater light that defeats darkness. Does that ease your mind?”

“Perhaps,” Elrond said, still troubled. “We are like the stars.” He sighed.

But don't stars collide?

Celeborn smiled suddenly, with great amusement, as if he had literally heard the thought. “Shall we walk back?” he suggested, taking Elrond's arm to lead him back to the palace entrance. “We should take the shorter path. I sense we are wanted.”

“I will forget this lesson you teach,” Elrond said then as they began walking. Celeborn patted Elrond's arm with his other hand.

“Yes, you probably will, Peredhil. But then we shall be together again, you and I.”

That simple assurance seemed to assuage all of his fears, replacing them with anticipation. “When?” he asked.

Celeborn sighed wistfully as they reached the steps and let him go. “In time, meldir idhren nín, I promise.”

In good time.

Thranduil and Legolas were stood at the top of the steps. Elrond sighed inwardly when he saw that their cold manner with each other had still not eased, and he shared a look with Thranduil of longing. Soon, they would be together again. Celeborn was due to leave tomorrow, and Legolas would be escorting him, leaving them to each other again.

For now, he approached Legolas and took his hand as the Lord of Lórien led Thranduil away, Celeborn speaking some meaningless nonsense to him about the braziers outside and the potentially devastating dangers of woodland fires. He couldn't help feeling Thranduil was getting away very lightly indeed, considering the depth of the conversation he had just had with Celeborn.

Elrond considered the lesson he had been given, and found himself looking deep into Legolas' eyes. He caressed Legolas' palm with his thumb. “I want you,” he said, deliberately, to see if he could observe that effect in Legolas.

Legolas' eyes darkened and he swayed forward in desire, as if his body was connected to a string that Elrond held in his hand. There it was, and Legolas was the youngest. He considered all that Celeborn had told him.

“When I return to Imladris, I will miss you. You should give some consideration to visiting me there from time to time, so that we can continue this, between us,” he said, and Legolas smiled, his lips so close to Elrond's own he could almost feel it.

“Yes, of course I will,” he breathed, happy. There. Another step. But it was only the truth he had spoken. They kissed, and it was full night now. The lights outside the palace burned like a beacon in the depth of the forest dispelling the darkness. Elrond felt quite safe, and yet he led Legolas back in. They had one more night together, and they would make good use of it.

To be continued...

Author's Note: Thank you for reading – I hope that chapter wasn't too confusing, and that you had fun! Please leave a comment. I will respond here: www2.adult-fanfiction.org/forum/index.php/topic/55964-pippychicks-lotr-fiction-review-responses/

Next chapter will feature Legolas/Elrond, then finally some long awaited Thranduil/Elrond. Time we saw him having his own brand of fun with Elrond now that he has a bit of his mojo back.

Translations:

Mae govannen – Well met

meldir nín – my friend

pen neth – young one

Peredhil – half elf

mellon neth nín – my young friend

meldir idhren nín – my thoughtful friend
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The Teacher