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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: Here is the next one. Enjoy! :)

Chapter Thirty-six

They ate by candlelight in Legolas' rooms, and the knowledge that Celeborn had given him lent an atmosphere to the evening that made everything seem new. And really, where Legolas was concerned, that wasn't actually too far from the truth. It was so long since Legolas had spent that period of time in Imladris, and now Elrond found himself genuinely regretful that he hadn't pursued the affair, that he hadn't asked Legolas to continue visiting him then.

Even when Legolas had surprised him, sent by Thranduil to request his presence at the Greenwood Halls, he'd almost been a stranger. He also hadn't been told his mother was missing, and Elrond intended to question Thranduil about that. Had he sent Legolas that very day? It seemed a painful thing. For both of them.

If Legolas and himself seemed as strangers then, it was even more true now, but if what Celeborn said was real too, then they were already a part of each other's lives. They already were involved, and time could not erase it, only deepen it.

It was impossible not to study Legolas as he had these thoughts. He was not the uncertain youth he had been centuries ago. He was assured and confident. To know him now would almost be like beginning again, and Elrond wanted to know him very much. He'd led Elrond to a place long forgotten, but a place Elrond missed, as if he knew how important it was. The remembered years with Oropher were like old glitter caught in his soul, still beautiful, but here and now Legolas and Thranduil shone like silver and gold.

Over dinner they talked of finding safe routes through Mirkwood, if there was a simple way to do it without running into the spiders' lairs at all. Legolas said that with some judicial application of their border forces, they could engineer such a path to the Anduin. He was animated and young, so alive. Elrond longed to ask him about his relationship with Thranduil, but knew he could not betray Thranduil's confidence. And if he brought up the subject, only for Legolas to beg for the truth, what would he say?

No, it was not his place to affect a reconciliation between them. At least, not for a long time to come. And so Elrond questioned the Prince about his life. Had he travelled? Legolas confessed that he had not travelled as widely as he wished to. He spoke of the beauty he'd seen in Imladris when he first visited so long ago as they drank their wine on comfortable chairs before a small carved table.

“I should very much like to see it again,” he said with a desirous sigh. “And you.” He gazed at Elrond with a small smile. “I cannot separate them in my mind, no matter how many centuries pass by. They are the same. You, Imladris,” he said, lowering his voice, “and deep, abiding pleasure.”

Elrond licked his lips. “Legolas, I...” he began, and could not think for a moment how to continue. The lesson was at the forefront of his mind. He wanted to say that he had belonged to Legolas then, that he did now, that it could never change. But then he remembered it was a lesson given to him. Even if he tried to relate it, Legolas would not be able to make sense of his words.

“Tomorrow, I will escort Lord Celeborn's party to safety by the Anduin, and they will continue on while I return to the Greenwood and to my patrol alone,” Legolas said, and seemed a little dissatisfied. In a flurry, he asked Elrond about the Golden Wood, it being a place that he longed to see.

Elrond described the mallorn trees, and Caras Galadhon. Told him of their height and beauty, of the leaves that turned to gold in autumn but did not fall until Spring, when the floor was carpeted with gold, and the flowers blossomed on branches that held new leaves of silver and green.

“One day, you will see it,” Elrond said, certain, and Legolas smiled as he lingered over the last few sips of his wine.

“I hope so, Peredhil.”

As he gazed on Legolas, Elrond had a sudden sharp vision of him walking beneath the trees on the borders of Lothlórien, but blindfolded. He gasped audibly, placing his goblet on the small table with numb fingers. Was it real, or merely symbolic?

Legolas put down his empty glass too, and looked at him with concern. “What is it?”

The fire crackled and cast a flickering warm glow over them and the room. Legolas did not favour the bright torches in the evenings. Elrond had noticed that the night before. Elrond smiled. “Nothing, do not worry. Just a trick of the light.” The vision was gone now, but it had left Elrond with a desire to make it real, and quite suddenly, he knew he would. He stood and held out his hand. “Let us go to your bed,” he suggested.

With a little laugh, Legolas stood up and then embraced him, lingering lips on his neck before leading him to the divan. Legolas did have a bedroom, but he did not use it, preferring a large day bed in the main room near the fire.

Elrond understood that Legolas didn't spend much time here at all. Instead he lived out in the woods, coming back here for short periods of rest when absolutely necessary. It was a wild life, but it suited him. He was not uncivilised or roughened by it, but he would find soft and easy living, say at Imladris, constrictive and uninspiring. He would be a great traveller when he finally found it in himself to venture from the woods of his home.

They sat side by side on the divan, and Elrond held Legolas' face in his hands as he felt strong graceful arms link loosely around his waist.

“Are you going to teach me anything new tonight?” Legolas asked, teasing, and Elrond laughed, thinking about his little ambition with the blindfold.

“Perhaps I will, even now,” he said mysteriously, deciding to let it be a surprise as he gave in to temptation and kissed Legolas on the lips, feeling the younger elf give way before him so sweetly he made a sound of pleased appreciation. He pressed Legolas down onto the bed, covering him, enjoying this just for the moment, though he had something else in mind entirely.

“I want you,” Legolas whispered when their lips parted, hands on his biceps to hold him close. Legolas arched his whole body up against Elrond in unmistakeable invitation. Elrond smiled and kissed him again, briefly. There was time for that. Maybe later in the night, when they awoke at some unknown hour, warm skin against warm skin with the firelight burnt so low they could touch but could barely see.

For now, he sat back up and busied himself with undoing the buttons on Legolas' tunic. As if he knew what was happening, Legolas pulled himself into a sitting position too and reached out to push Elrond's robes from his shoulders. Elrond stopped him from that by taking hold of those hands and leading them to the ties of Legolas' own leggings.

“If you would help,” he suggested, but it was a request, and Legolas' eyes twinkled as he did exactly what Elrond wished, and worked on removing his own clothing, exposing himself to whatever Elrond wished to do.

He was so easy, so wonderful, and when Legolas was finally naked Elrond found himself putting off his plans for a short while to indulge in his own desires. In the firelight, Legolas was completely bewitching, his skin and hair cast in pale golden tones that led Elrond to worship him.

Fully clothed, he sat astride Legolas and lifted up one of the archer's arms, taking his relaxed hand only to tickle at Legolas' palm with his fingertips before dipping his head to brush lips across the inside of his wrist. Slowly, he worked his way down that arm to Legolas body, taking time to tease the inside of his elbow, massaging Legolas' bicep and shoulder so that all the tension left his muscles. Tenderly, he moved aside the long hair, and turned Legolas' head so that he could lay a line of gentle kisses up from his shoulder, over the back of his neck to just behind his ear.

Legolas gave him little gasps and murmurs as Elrond did all of this, and he noted the places that seemed to pleasure him the most. There were more ways than one to get to know Legolas again, and this was important. Elrond took his time, making love to Legolas as sweetly and thoroughly as he wanted, while the Prince urged him on, becoming more and more vocal as Elrond discovered more and more of the places that made him moan, made him breathless, made him shiver.

By the time Elrond had worked his way down Legolas' body, the Prince was hard. And yet, Elrond ignored it for now. He moved his weight to sit on the side of the bed and nudged at Legolas to turn over, laughing quietly when Legolas told him he was cruel, but he did as he was asked. Elrond reached for a bottle of oil kept by the bed in full view of Legolas, and the Prince sighed, but he spread his legs a little.

“Oh, is that what you think?” Elrond asked with interest, uncorking the bottle to pour a little of it into his hand. Legolas sighed again and buried his face in the pillows. It was quite endearing. But Elrond had the oil in his hand, so he rubbed his palms together to warm it, until his touch would slide over the skin in just the right way.

Moving fluidly to sit astride Legolas again, this time over the back of his legs, Elrond kept his weight on his knees by Legolas' hips and laid his palms down at either side of the base of his spine. After a second or so to allow Legolas to recognise his touch, he pressed down slightly and moved his hands up to his shoulders, spreading the heat of his touch over as much of Legolas' skin as he could before dragging the tips of his fingers down the archer's sides, never losing contact with him.

Legolas sighed, but this time in pure pleasure. Elrond was surprised, and then remembered Celeborn: To him, your touch is more profound than you realise.

Was that literally true? He didn't allow any of this to make the easy motion of his hands falter or stop, and beneath him Legolas was making sounds of pure contentment. Elrond almost pitied him. He hadn't even truly started yet. He was just warming the skin, and the healer in him had a particular desire to work on the muscles of Legolas' shoulders.

Elrond gave Legolas a little time to come around while he got a little more of the oil. Yet when he began again, Legolas was obviously right back in that place. Though, by the sound of him, it was quite pleasant.

He let himself concentrate on what he was doing, the placement of his hands, the heat of his palms, his fingers. Allowing his experience to dictate the perfect combination of pressure and touch, while beneath him Legolas' moans became so low they were barely audible. Elrond could feel his vocalisations through his hands. It made him smile.

His shoulders needed the attention. Legolas' muscles there were large and hard working. Elrond worked on them for the longest, soothing, kneading, rubbing, and he felt his success when the tension in them fled from his hands.

“Elrond,” said Legolas, his voice so deep now, so relaxed, almost lost.

“Yes, Legolas?” he asked, never ceasing with his massage, although it was nearly done now. He returned to the same touch as he began with, long strokes, minimal pressure, but they covered the whole of Legolas' back.

“I love you.” It wasn't a confession, because if it had been, Elrond would have felt some tenseness in him. It was a statement brought forth by touch. The massage was over. Elrond dipped his head and pressed a series of little kisses down the entire length of Legolas' spine, shuffling back on the bed with his knees as he did so. Then he raised his head.

“I love you too, Legolas.” For this, for showing him where to find the past, and for the trust Legolas had always placed in him. Elrond had taught him much of love, had taken his virginity. Now, he found himself wanting to give something back.

Thinking of that, Elrond got up from the bed and began to remove his robes as Legolas turned around onto his back to watch. He saved the navy blue velvet sash that was draped over his shoulders, but folded the rest of his clothes neatly and put them to one side.

“A game,” Elrond said, holding out the sash. He folded it just so. Thick, but narrow enough to only cover Legolas' eyes. Long enough to tie at the back. Legolas sat up with a contented sigh.

“I know this game,” he said confidently. “I have played it.” Elrond smiled.

“No, you haven't.”

Legolas submitted to the blindfold, and at last then he seemed to be coming around from the massage a little. He got up to stretch his arms, the blindfold in place over his eyes as he threw his head back in the flickering light. He was astonishingly beautiful. So much so that Elrond held his breath, unmoving.

Arms reached out to the air, and Legolas laughed. “Where are you?” he asked, playful. “Help me.”

As if waking from a spell, Elrond stepped forward quickly, taking Legolas' hands in his. The Prince sighed happily, lifting his hands to touch Elrond's face. “You have been touching me for so long,” he said, as Elrond steered him back to the bed. “I want to touch you now.”

“I know, and you will.” Legolas reclined back again with a sigh, Elrond following him to lay by his side.

“How do you want me?” Legolas asked directly, and he was so forthright Elrond laughed a little. He shook his head, then realised Legolas could not see it. Time to explain.

“No, not that,” Elrond said. “How do you want me?” He pulled Legolas' hands to rest on his shoulders. “Touch if you will. Guide my hands if you want. Position me however you wish. Use my mouth for your pleasure if you desire that. I will please you, I promise. I will help you by passing you the oil when you request it. But take me, feel me. I am completely yours.”

Legolas moaned.

“Just don't look,” Elrond added mischievously, watching the parts of Legolas' face that he could see. His lips were parted and his tongue darted out to lick them.

“I admit I have never played the game this way, Peredhil,” he said then. “But I like it.” So saying, he pushed Elrond down to the bed and kissed him, deeply, dominantly, and Elrond submitted. The blindfold brushed against his own closed eyelids. Soft velvet the only thing between them.

Legolas' hands moved, and then it was as if he couldn't stop. Elrond submitted to that too, as Legolas sought to capture with his hands what he couldn't see. Every now and again, Legolas' hands would return to his face, as if to catch his expression or mood. Elrond kissed those hands.

When Legolas guided Elrond to touch him, he did that too, watching Legolas' face. “Get me ready for you,” he said, his tone dark even though there was a small smile upon his lips, and Elrond wished then that he could see Legolas' eyes, to see the expression in them. “Touch me. Feel me. Soon I will be deep inside you, Peredhil.”

Elrond was not expecting the game to bring this out in Legolas, but he loved it. Legolas began to stroke him too, their rhythm of their hands matching, gasping, moaning until Legolas stopped him. “Pass me the oil,” he said, and Elrond turned his head, reaching down to it at the side of the bed. Legolas laid full upon him then, hands on his face once more, holding him quite still, and when he realised Elrond had exposed his neck, Legolas licked at his skin there.

“Shall I bite you?” he deliberated. “So that Ada will see when you return to him tomorrow?”

Elrond's heart jumped. “No, don't,” he said. “Please!” And then he thought might be the wrong thing to do, because Legolas laughed.

“Why not? He knows you are here with me. He knows what we are doing.” Legolas let Elrond feel the edge of his teeth, then paused. “He sent me to you from the beginning, remember? He sent me for you to love. Do you refuse the gift, Peredhil?”

His words were dark and yet Elrond knew it was playful. He'd just never suspected Legolas capable of it. Not like Thranduil. He felt strangely weak, and though he wasn't tied down, and he knew he did not have to submit to this, it was awfully tempting. Just as it had been long ago, with Legolas' father.

“Do you refuse me, Elrond?” Legolas asked, prodding him for an answer. Elrond felt himself tremble beneath Legolas now.

“I do not refuse you, meleth nín. Take me as you will. Do what you wish.” He drew in a breath. “You were not given to me, Legolas,” he said. “Never think that.” He swallowed. “Don't you know that I was given to you?”

At that Legolas finally did what he threatened, and Elrond moaned loudly as Legolas bit him, deeply, sure to leave a mark that would be clear for days to come. And even then, when Legolas kissed the bruise he had left, it was not over.

“Oil,” Legolas said, holding out his hand, and Elrond passed it to him, still shocked. He'd forgotten he was holding it. It was just a game. Thranduil would definitely play with it, but still. Just a game.

He gasped suddenly, startled from his thoughts when Legolas began to prepare him with quick, efficient, oiled fingers. It didn't seem to take any time at all until Legolas was poised to claim him, one of Elrond's legs over his shoulder.

As he pressed deep inside, Elrond moaned. Legolas moved quickly, just once, as if to demand his attention.

“Say my name, Peredhil,” he commanded.

“Legolas!” Elrond cried, and then again, and with every movement. He looked up, and Legolas was still blindfolded, but Elrond couldn't remember the last time anyone had managed to surprise him like this.

Legolas pulled out of him before it was over. “Turn over,” he said, with a gentle kiss to Elrond's lips. “I want to be further in you than this. I want to touch you deeper than this.”

With a moan of acquiescence, Elrond did just that, and then Legolas began taking him again immediately, keeping his fingers close to the place where they were joined as if he wanted to know, as if not being able to see made him want to touch.

Then at last he relented and reached around to stroke Elrond too, no longer demanding to hear his name from Elrond's lips. He seemed pleased with the moans and whimpers for more that Elrond did voice until they were both done. Legolas stayed inside of him for a long moment or two before pulling away.

“Were you expecting that?” Legolas asked, and Elrond turned over again just in time to catch him pulling off the blindfold.

“Not quite,” Elrond admitted, and Legolas laughed. “But then I've never played the game like that before either.”

Suddenly, Legolas bit his lip and winced. Elrond frowned. “Whatever is the matter?” he asked.

Legolas looked regretful. “Ada will definitely see that,” Legolas said, nodding at Elrond's neck. “Even if you weren't due to be with him until next week.”

Elrond reached up with his fingers to touch it, and then shook his head. “It will be all right, Legolas. Let us sleep now.” The fire had burned low, and the light of it was fading. But it would keep them warm while they slept. Elrond pulled Legolas down onto the bed, and they slept in each other's arms.

To be continued...

Author's Note: Oh, dear. How much trouble is Elrond in? Find out next time. Please leave a comment. I will reply here: www2.adult-fanfiction.org/forum/index.php/topic/55964-pippychicks-lotr-fiction-review-responses/
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The Teacher