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
- 3
- 4
- 5
Title: The Teacher
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: Middle Earth and the elves do not belong to me – they are Tokien’s and I am just borrowing them for a bit. I make no money from this, and I promise to wash all of the elves down personally when I have finished and give them back.
Summary: A fanciful, smutty take on what Elrond’s story might have been through the ages.

Author’s Note:

To Binky: Thank you so much for your review! I know you sent Erestor around with a nice whip to encourage me, but it sort of backfired. I have spent the last two weeks enjoying his company… *eg*

Seriously, though, I will have to kill Oropher. Mostly because Tolkien did – but also because Elrond has to marry Celebrían.

To Anon: Thank you for commenting – I hope you’ll enjoy this new chapter. And don’t worry, I have turned ‘anonymous’ comments on ;)

And so, on with the next chapter. If you enjoy it, please leave me a word or two. It will make me write faster.

Chapter Three

III 140

He went to work that day with little appetite for that either. The words of his trusted advisor Erestor washed over him like a lullaby, albeit a rather materialistic one. But instead of falling asleep in his chair, Elrond found himself drifting back into the past again…

II 2025

His suspicions had proved to be entirely correct, of course, and he found himself required to visit Oropher’s Kingdom again and again over the years, long after the wedding of Thranduil and Nimbrethil had taken place.

Ending the dalliance was no longer an option, since, as Oropher had put it: “Now that I have found the fire again, I have no intention of letting it burn out. It’s dark and cold and lonely without you, meleth nín.” Those words had made him give in to Oropher’s wishes for at least a decade or two, along with his own desire, until he once more began to feel shame and guilt for his selfishness.

Resolute, the next time he visited Lothlórien, he didn’t cross the river, and instead sent Oropher a note of apology explaining his reasoning. Satisfied that it was over, Elrond relaxed – or rather, forced himself – into his role as Lord of Imladris, and as keeper of the ring, Vilya, which Gil-Galad had entrusted into his care.

There was something comforting to be found in responsibility – Elrond had always found it so – and yet that comfort was abruptly shattered when Oropher turned up at the Last Homely House with a contingent of royal guards and lots of fanfare and finery.

Striving to be the perfect host, Elrond became infuriated and mortified when Oropher used every opportunity during his visit to molest and maul him. Of course, there was a measure of willing acceptance too, and so he found himself in his lover’s embrace on that last day, used up and unbelievably satisfied as Oropher rested happily in his arms, his blond hair mussed and adorable to Elrond, and his wandering hands stilled for at least an hour.

“If I promise to continue to visit you,” Elrond began, “will you promise not to do this again?” Oropher stirred, yawning and stretching like a cat in Elrond’s arms before smirking.

“Do what, half elf?” he asked innocently. Elrond glared furiously.

“We are not in Lindon anymore, Oropher. I’m talking about the way you accost me in the corridors. How you cannot keep your hands to yourself. Yesterday in the library when you…” Elrond’s words trailed off, reluctant to describe what Oropher had done to him behind the shelves. “Erestor could hear!” Elrond ploughed on, oblivious to the look of tolerant amusement Oropher directed his way.

“And this morning at breakfast. No one should be doing that beneath the table!” Shaking his head, Elrond sat on the side of the bed and held his head in his hands. The benevolent look changed to one of tender love, but by the time Elrond looked at him, Oropher had schooled his features into a mixture of fear and shock. Somewhat mollified, Elrond sighed shakily. Little by little his reputation and respect were being destroyed, and he just didn’t know what to do about it. If one thing was certain, he couldn’t hate Oropher, and he relaxed a little when he felt the King’s arms encircle his waist where he sat.

“Do you think they suspect anything?” he whispered, and for Elrond it was the last straw. He got up, extricating himself from Oropher’s embrace, and paced across the room to the window, running a hand through his hair, without even looking back.

“I cannot do this anymore,” he said softly. “You have to leave.” Elrond wasn’t joking. He simply could not endure any more of Oropher’s antics in his own home – the King of the Greenwood was quickly making him a laughing stock, he was sure.

Still, despite his bad feelings, he didn’t have it in him to be cold when he felt Oropher embrace him, and he looked out of the window to the waterfall below with a slight smile on his lips as he leaned back, letting his head rest on Oropher’s shoulder.

To his surprise, he heard the King sigh, and then something stranger – Oropher gave in. “If I vow never to bother you here again, do you swear to keep visiting me in Amon Lanc?” His voice was devoid of the usual warm humour now, but there was a little resigned sadness in it, and Elrond realised suddenly that his insistence was a kind of rejection to Oropher.

Sighing, Elrond remained looking out of the window. Hurt in those beautiful eyes was the last thing he wanted to see. “Meleth nín,” he said softly, “you must understand. It’s not as it was for us in Lindon. I have so many more responsibilities…” His voice trailed off when Oropher laughed strangely.

“Worry not, Lord Elrond,” he returned, so formally that Elrond shivered in contrition. “Well do I know the stresses and strains of caring for a population.” And so he did. Oropher was a King after all. “But it never stopped me from loving you,” he added quietly, his lips sweeping over Elrond’s neck until he moaned and tilted his head to make it easier.

“I am sorry,” he whispered, knowing it wasn’t adequate, but not knowing how to manage his leadership the way Oropher did. Perhaps, Elrond reflected sadly, he couldn’t. Oropher was blessed with a charisma that meant others would always follow him, whatever he did.

“You have my promise,” Oropher whispered, his voice quiet, and somewhat dull for the first time. Suddenly Elrond wanted to deny his earlier words and take them back. He didn’t want that kind of promise – to force Oropher into a retreat when he hadn’t backed away from anything in his life before. “I will depart in the morning.”

Oh, it hurt to hear him say that – but on reflection Elrond couldn’t deny he would be relieved to have his privacy back. He closed his eyes before he turned around in Oropher’s embrace, not willing to see the pain in his eyes that was so clearly present in his voice.

With a smile, he allowed his lover to guide him back towards the bed, and by the time he looked at Oropher again, any melancholy had been replaced by the familiar hunger and lust. They made love slowly and tenderly, and Elrond was so exhausted at the end of it he slept soundly through the night and the early morning.

He slept as Oropher crawled out of his bed when it was still dark to knock on doors, and alert his party to their immediate departure. He continued to sleep as ostlers were woken to ready the horses, the jangle of the harnesses far away from his bed as the colour of the sky lightened to a deep blue. He was walking in dreams as the royal party from Greenwood left the Last Homely House in an almost silent and sombre retreat, the clip-clopping of the horses hooves just barely reaching inside his window.

When he did finally wake, he awoke alone, his hands clutching the empty sheets in a kind of grief, and inbetween the night and the coming day – Elrond wept in regret for sending away his lover. He wept when there was no chance of Oropher hearing it. The sound carried out of his window and drifted down into the stable – but everyone there was long gone.

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

“Lord Elrond?” Startled from his daydream, Elrond nodded at once. Various arguments had been put forth for and against allowing men to settle inside the borders of Imladris. The men who dwelt in large communities alongside the river Anduin had been reliable and fair trade partners with both Imladris and Lothlórien for many years. Most had come to the aid of the elves during the war before the Numeroreans had arrived to defeat Sauron. Yet, on the other hand, a large enough shift would change the character of Imladris from an elven realm, to something altogether more mixed.

As always, Elrond turned to his counsellor, Erestor. “What say you, Erestor? You have heard the argument as well as I.”

Taking a deep breath, Erestor nodded at both parties before speaking. “With all due respect, I believe the opponents to this idea are fearful and are letting that affect their judgement. I do not believe there will be a mass of men moving to reside within Imladris’ borders should we decide to allow it.” At this there was an unbelieving snort from one of the elves present, and Erestor fixed the offender with a glare before continuing.

“These are not times of war. The men already live in worthwhile and rewarding communities. Besides which, even if we were in times of trouble, I feel I should not need to remind anyone here that Imladris was founded and built on the effort and work of many refugees – including men. For us to close our arms and our doors to others would be to deny the basic principles on which our home was established.”

Thanking Erestor for his advice, Elrond turned to face the elves before him. “I give a recommendation that free movement between our peoples should be facilitated, with those who emigrate in full reciept of all the benefits and priviledges of any other resident. However, since it would seem to be an emotive issue, it shall be put to a vote at our next free meeting.”

When all were dismissed, and Elrond was alone with Erestor, he raised an eyebrow at his long-time friends’ knowing look.

“You were daydreaming, mellon,” he remarked, and Elrond smiled.

“Was I so very obvious?” Erestor smirked.

“Of course not! Never you – no one else suspected a thing.” They both laughed. “I was going to go over our trade agreements with you, but I think now that I should advise you to take some exercise.”

“As always, you are quite right, Counsellor. I think a walk would do me some good today. I am quite distracted by something that requires thought.” Elrond frowned when he considered the letter again – and Legolas.

“Is it something you would benefit from discussing with a friend?” Erestor asked. Shaking his head quickly, Elrond got up and stood for a moment. The idea of a walk was gaining more and more appeal. It would be good to be alone for a short while with the fresh air, away from the rigidities of dealing with others.

“I am afraid it is something I must reflect on alone.” It wasn’t unusual for him to make such a statement, and the fact that Erestor didn’t pressure him was one of the things that made them such close friends. They wished each other a courteous good day, and quite soon Elrond found himself strolling through the formal gardens.

For a while he walked, going over the same things again and again, wondering what he should do, and then realising it wasn’t a question of what, but when. Someone fell into step with him, and Elrond noticed only after a minute or two. So silent… he turned to find that Legolas walked with him, and he made a soft sound of surprise.

“You were so very quiet,” he said, stopping walking as Legolas turned that cold blue gaze on him. “I didn’t realise you were there.”

Like Oropher. Elrond shook his head to clear it as Legolas smiled, his eyes sparkling with a little warmth at last.

“I am a wood elf, Lord Elrond. Silence is something of a habit for me.” His words were light and amused, almost condescending.

Like Thranduil.

Feeling confused, as though he was playing a game he didn’t know the rules of, Elrond swallowed audibly. He looked around at the deepening twilight, realising they were quite alone.

“Were you seeking me, Prince Legolas?” he asked quietly, willing the answer to be no as he stared helplessly now into those blue eyes, made bewitching by the quality of the light. Legolas smiled, and Elrond took an involuntary step backwards.

“Should I have been? Have you come to a decision?” Elrond shook his head and Legolas sighed as if in disappointment, but it was so slight Elrond couldn’t really be certain.

“I was out walking when I spotted you,” Legolas explained then, looking away into the distance where the garden grew wilder and more trees grew. “I was finding the walls constrictive, and the people too noisy. I wished simply for some peace and space to reflect.”

“I can understand that,” Elrond said tenderly, feeling a great sense of relief wash over him. That soon ended when Legolas looked at him again, however.

“Can you?” he asked quickly, almost demanding. When Elrond offered no answer, Legolas looked to the distant trees again, almost with longing. “I wonder…”

As he watched Legolas, Elrond became painfully aware just how like Oropher he was, and that combined with the recent restirring of his memories affected him so deeply that he was surprised to feel tears on his cheeks.

“I wish to see the trees,” Legolas said without looking at him. “Will you follow me?”

The words sounded like home to Elrond’s ears, and they completed the vision so perfectly that before he knew it he was sinking to his knees the way he never had before Oropher. What for he didn’t know. Maybe just one more moment.

“Of course I mean will you walk with…?” Legolas stopped speaking, having turned and seeing that Elrond was on his knees. “What is it?” he asked, his voice full of a concern that was neither Oropher nor Thranduil, but entirely his own, and Elrond took a deep breath.

“I accept,” he breathed, and when Legolas smiled down at him, he closed his eyes.

To be continued…

Translations:
Meleth nín – my love
Mellon – friend

Author’s Note: Thank you for reading, I hope you are enjoying it. Comments welcome and appreciated, and will make me write more quickly. :)
- 3
- 4
- 5
You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.
Report Story

The Teacher