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
- 42
- 43
- 44
Author's Note: By strange coincidence, I have to add almost the same note to this chapter, as the last chapter of my collaboration with TAFKAB. The Denethor who is Steward of Gondor at this time, is Denethor I, and is not the same Denethor who goes insane in the Return of the King.

Apart from that – enjoy!

Chapter Forty-two

III 2475

Much later that day, Elrond was alone, having sent Legolas to his father for them to talk. He had no wish to intrude upon that meeting: the things they had to say to each other were private to them, but Elrond hoped it would be good for Legolas.

He lingered outside the palace with a book, having asked for a cushioned chair to be placed for him in the shade at the top of the steps; it was pleasantly cool out of the strong afternoon sun. He was reading something frivolous, a collection of folk tales of the Silvan elves of the Greenwood. Many of these legends were in existence even before Oropher came east, passed down from generation to generation, gaining fanciful embellishments along the way. Whatever truth was in these stories was probably long lost. Now they were merely fiction, though they still retained something of the Teleri about them, at least those who did not complete the great journey into the West. There was a reluctance in the styling of these tales. A kind of stillness.

Thranduil and Legolas had been closeted away for hours before Elrond turned at a sound behind him. Legolas stood in the palace entrance, and Elrond got up, placing the opened book on the chair as Legolas smiled at him. He did not even have time to form a question before Legolas rushed over and threw arms around him. Elrond returned the embrace with a flicker of glad relief.

“All is well?” he asked, feeling a strong affection that had nothing to do with their more sexual exploits. Legolas released a happy sigh then let him go, backing away a step.

“It is,” he said, biting his lip as if he was afraid the joy would escape him. A patrol exited the palace, bounding off into the trees, a couple of them calling to Legolas. His eyes quickened as his attention was drawn away, and Legolas called back to them. For the briefest moment, he looked at Elrond again.

“I shall never forget this day, Elrond,” he said. “I thank you for it. I will find a way to repay you.”

Elrond laughed and shook his head. “I would see you free of all pain and grief, Legolas,” he said, then nodded to the trees. “They are outpacing you,” he teased. Legolas looked at the trees too, shining gold and green in the sunlight, and his feet moved automatically, backing away.

“I have to go,” he said, distracted, and Elrond could see the longing in him. To be freed to the wood again. To Legolas, it was as if he had been given his life back, for his life clearly was lived out there among the trees. “I will be back in a few days,” he said, more distant now, and before Elrond could think of a suitable reply, Legolas was flitting down the steps to the first of the trees, climbing so swiftly it took little more than an instant before he was gone.

Bemused, Elrond picked up his book and closed it, inhaling a deep breath of sweet air. He should find Thranduil, and make sure the meeting had not left him melancholy, since he had needed to share some things with Legolas which would have required him to revisit his grief over Nimbrethil.

When he turned to go back inside, he was startled to see Thranduil standing there regarding him, having followed Legolas out. The King smiled.

“You were right, as always, Elrondlas,” he said, nodding towards the trees, and he sounded content. “Legolas is happier now.” Thranduil paused, content, and drew in a deep breath of his own. “We are healed of so much more than the past few weeks. We are father and son again. Such a gift...”

He shook his head, then walked forward and took Elrond's hand. “How long will you stay?” he queried.

“I came here with a purpose,” Elrond announced, suddenly reminded of it. “Sauron has attacked Osgiliath, and I brought the minutes of our meeting on it. We should discuss that.” He allowed Thranduil to lead him back inside slowly.

“Were there losses?” Thranduil asked, concerned. While some lives were undoubtedly taken, the city of Osgiliath, once the capital of Gondor, had sustained only a small population, its great splendour having fallen into ruin these last centuries since the loss of Minas Ithil.

“Some. Though most of those who still resided there have been taken in at Minas Tirith by the Steward, Denethor,” Elrond replied. There were a few moments' silence between them then, for both of them knew what it was to retreat from the enemy. With a civilian population too. Something much larger was on the way, and they both knew it, though for now they did not speak.

“Well, I have had more than enough heavy discussion for one day, lass nín,” Thranduil said at last, frowning. Elrond was quite certain that was true. Thranduil's hand tightened slightly around his as they walked, the smallest of signals, but Elrond did not mistake it. He remembered the coldness between Legolas and his father. That was over now. He smiled. You are welcome, he thought, but he did not speak.

“I have other plans for you,” Thranduil said then, a very different kind of gravity in his tone, and despite having expected it, Elrond still felt a jolt of arousal. This was what Elrond had dreamed of on the way here. To rest. To let Thranduil make the decisions for him for a time. Yes. Elrond went along willingly... happily...

As it turned out, it was several days before Elrond and Thranduil discussed the subject that had necessitated his visit and what it might mean as time passed on. Long enough for Legolas to return for a break, in fact, and Elrond spent that period in breathless anticipation, wondering if Thranduil would engineer an encounter between the three of them as he had hinted.

But then, Legolas left again without anything out of the ordinary taking place, and Elrond relaxed. When he finally returned to Imladris it was with Legolas as an escort, and he enjoyed the journey home almost as much as his visit. The love between them was a perfect contrast to what he shared with Thranduil.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Of course he'd been expecting it – the day when Thranduil and Legolas visited Imladris together, but it didn't make his heart beat any less heavy when he marked the intention in them, in both of them. And yet he did not flee. A runner had been sent ahead, as a kind of forewarning, and Elrond saw Legolas' hand in that. It was not Thranduil's style.

Their visit was timed to coincide with one of Celebrian's frequent jaunts to Lothlórien, where she had taken Arwen. The twins were out gallivanting somewhere in the mountains as far as he knew. As he watched them approach, waiting to greet them as a host should, Elrond realised he was quite alone. Not only that, but they would be undisturbed for days, maybe even weeks. He sighed inwardly, wishing for an excuse, or perhaps for a rescue that would not come.

“Legolas,” he greeted, trying not to betray his inner turmoil, reaching out to take Legolas' hands in his own. “Welcome.” He smiled, and despite his nervousness, he could never be unhappy to see the Prince. Elrond took in the sight of him with pleasure.

“Elrond,” Legolas said, a mischievous look in his eyes. “It is good to be here again.” Legolas' hands were warm in his own, and Elrond drew in a short breath, then swallowed, longing to say it. Don't.

Thranduil was hanging back, talking to the ostler who had come for their horses, and Elrond looked at him for a moment, then gave his attention back to Legolas.

“I said I would find a way to repay you,” Legolas said quietly, and all at once Elrond regretted not having brought this up with Legolas. Not having explained his reluctance. Now, Legolas believed this was a gift, and Elrond could not bring himself to tell the truth. He expected the kiss. It didn't shock him, and he kissed Legolas back as they held each other's hands. It had been several months, after all, and it felt good to taste his lips again.

When he felt the warmth of Thranduil's body heat behind him, he faltered, and Legolas took advantage of his hesitation as if it were surrender, deepening the kiss in response. Elrond couldn't contain a sound of surprise, muffled by Legolas' lips so it almost sounded like protest.

Warm fingertips moved his hair aside, then Thranduil's hands settled on his waist from behind as Legolas kissed him. Elrond leaned back against the King's strength. He felt lips on his ear. “Give Legolas what he wants, lass nín,” Thranduil commanded. Elrond's hands trembled, and Legolas gripped them more tightly in unspoken reassurance.

After Legolas had tasted all he would, he pulled back with a small sigh of satisfaction. He did not look away from Elrond's eyes. “It is as you said, ada,” he noted with pleasure, teasing. “He is very sweet this way.” Legolas' fingertips tickled his palms, while the heat of Thranduil's breath remained by his ear. He couldn't mean that! Elrond's eyes widened, and he wanted to shake his head, but he didn't dare. He could not refuse, nor even give the appearance of it, as if it were a restraint that had been placed in his soul, he couldn't do that. Not to Legolas.

Quickly, he found himself turned around in their arms, his body shaking as he put his hands up to Thranduil's shoulders. Legolas' palms were on his hips, pulling him back flush against the young archer's body. Thranduil gave him a shrewd look.

“Would you refuse one of us?” he asked, knowing the answer. Elrond shook his head.

“I cannot. Valar, help me. I will not.” He sighed, certain he could hear the regret in his own voice, but thought Thranduil and Legolas were beyond such awareness now. Thranduil had engineered this trap, he knew that, but he was caught in it and there was nothing he could do to escape now. “You must do as you wish,” he said, resigned.

Thranduil smiled. His dangerous smile that usually portended any number of little humiliations. Elrond swallowed. “Very good, lass nín. Now say: 'I submit.'”

Elrond's mouth went dry at the request, and Thranduil stared at him intensely. He was aware of Legolas too, waiting. Thranduil was not just going to blithely share him outright, he was going to show Legolas his submission! Elrond gave Thranduil a pleading look that Legolas could not see, and yet the King did not relent in this either.

“I submit,” he breathed, defeated, knowing that Legolas listened. He sighed when Thranduil did not move. “I submit,” he said, louder now, trying to pull Thranduil forward with his hands because if he had to do this, they may as well get on with it. Thranduil was immovable, and then Elrond realised what he was waiting for. He closed his eyes. “I submit, Master,” he said, aware that Legolas heard it, and then at last he felt Thranduil's warm lips on his, hands holding his head still for it while Legolas kissed the back of his neck.

Elrond moaned helplessly, but the kiss, while deep, was short-lived. “Take us somewhere for this now, or we will both have you out here in full view of your staff,” Thranduil said slowly, running a thumb over Elrond's jawline.

For a moment he stared into Thranduil's eyes, caught, but then just as he had resolved to move and to obey, both Legolas and Thranduil took a hasty step away from him. Elrond almost staggered, but managed to recover quickly. Then he saw Elladan and Elrohir riding up fast, the clicking hooves of their horses echoing in the courtyard where they all stood. Elrond was certain he had never been more pleased to see them.

“Legolas!” They both shouted, in glee-filled voices that reminded Elrond of when they were very small.

“You are here! You have to ride out with us! Get a horse from the stable – we have found an orc nest. We are going to flush it out,” said Elrohir. Elladan gave his father and Thranduil a minute bow from the saddle of his horse as it whinnied, eager to be moving.

“A nest?” questioned Legolas with sudden excited interest. Elrohir nodded, then looked past Legolas.

“Mae govannen, King Thranduil. Adar.”

“Legolas!” Thranduil's voice was forbidding, and he shook his head slowly, as if to remind his son they had other business. But just as the twins had grown beyond Elrond's ability to direct or control. So too had Legolas outgrown his father's guidance. The Prince gave Thranduil an apologetic look and shrugged.

“It is a nest,” he all but pleaded. He looked at Elrond, who nodded instantly. Legolas grinned. “I will be back later,” he assured them then, gifting Elrond with a smile of promise, and ran lightly beside the twins in the direction of the stable as they discussed what weapons they wanted to take with them.

Elrond watched the three of them go, then smiled. He drew in a relieved breath as Thranduil came to stand beside him. “Well,” he said happily. “I think that this will become a source of great frustration for you, celebmîr nín.” Elrond couldn't contain a light laugh. “Will we? Won't we? When will we?”

Thranduil almost growled, and that was even funnier. Elrond looked straight at him, then backed away just a bit, trying to become serious and failing utterly. He could feel his lips twitching in a helpless smirk. “Just how many punishments are you looking to earn, lass nín?” Thranduil asked mildly.

That, at last, made Elrond more serious. He bit his lip and looked away. At that moment, three horses came cantering out from the stable block and away up the path towards the mountains. He had no fear for any of them. The three were well seasoned fighters. “Oh,” Elrond said, laughing again. “Maybe one or two more...” Hands closed around his waist and pulled him forward so that he almost lost his footing. He found himself staring into Thranduil's eyes.

“We are all alone,” Thranduil observed, looking him up and down deliberately.

Elrond nodded. “Yes,” he replied, still jubilant.

“You arranged for this,” he accused slowly, his eyes narrowing. Elrond laid a hand on his heart.

“I swear to you, I did not. It is... fate. I could not organise a nest of orcs. I am no sorcerer.”

Thranduil considered his words for a moment that stretched out just a beat too long, then conceded the truth of it with a quirk of his lips.

“It matters little if you did or you didn't,” Thranduil said at last, and Elrond relaxed, looking away to the waterfalls of his home. “We are all alone,” he said again, and Elrond heard the intention in his words.

“Thranduil...”

“Lead me somewhere private, or I at least will have you out here in full view of your staff. After they have seen you beg for mercy from my hand, of course. It is your choice where we do this.”

Elrond swallowed thickly, and led Thranduil to the rooms he had ordered to be prepared for their visit, quaking at the voiced intention. Having been denied his wish, then laughed at, this particular punishment might prove difficult to endure. Elrond wondered if he would even be able to sit down afterwards, and envisaged the long meetings that Erestor had scheduled in for him. He shook his head in resignation. Perhaps no one would notice if he remained standing by the fireplace?

After that day, and night, which was how long it took for Legolas to return with the twins, there always seemed to be something that stymied Thranduil's attempts to get them all together. Erestor insisted Elrond's meetings could not be postponed. Their presence would be required at a banquet quietly organised by the other elves of Imladris in honour of Thranduil, or a crisis would demand Elrond's immediate attention. Glorfindel challenged Thranduil to a sword fight against what he called a “worthy opponent” which Thranduil could not in honour refuse, and then became a 'best-of-three' match, after which he was completely exhausted. The archery Master would request Legolas to demonstrate his notable skill to young trainees. So many things, until it was clear the coincidences were so well-timed that something was keeping back the inevitable. Thranduil's disappointment at each of these “events” was so comical Elrond actually felt a little sympathy. But his own relief was stronger by far.

Every morning, Thranduil would wake up beside him with a question. Would it be today? And each time Elrond's answer was more certain – and it was always no. There would always be coincidences. There would always be space between them, for as long as Elrond wished it.

And then something changed.

Elrond woke up from a dream that involved all three of them, and instead of being disturbing, it was strangely arousing. He sat up in bed, elbows on his knees as the white sheet that had covered him fell around his hips, and he realised the dream had left him hard, although he could not recall the detail of it. Thranduil was still asleep beside him, and Elrond looked from there to the side of his bed. His gaze fell on the book he had been reading; a book of stories Legolas had brought as a gift for him. He'd been reading it at Eryn Galen before. Stories that originated with the Teleri once upon a time, as doubting as the Avari in their own way. Unwilling flights of fancy with an element of doubt. Did he doubt? Did he doubt either of them? No... they wished only for pleasure. Did he doubt himself? Again, no. He loved them both.

Again Elrond looked at the book as he let his hands fall down over the front of his shins to his ankles. He rested his head on his knees, and considered the character of the stories within. They were written along prescribed lines, as if all creativity and imagination had been restrained and imprisoned in order to set them down. They were intriguing but vaguely unsatisfying. They should have gone further, just like the Teleri themselves. They would have known paradise. That conclusion gnawed at him suddenly. He remembered the atmosphere of freedom in the dream, the delight of it – of them, together.

Next to him, Thranduil stirred and sat up beside him, arms reaching around him, sleep warmed and drowsy. He allowed Thranduil to pull him back down to the pillows.

“It will be today,” Elrond said at last, looking up at the ceiling while Thranduil's head rested on his shoulder. The King suddenly moved, half sitting up to look down on him, a victorious gleam in his eyes that made Elrond smile despite himself.

“Really? You know this?” he asked.

“Yes,” Elrond nodded, certain there would be no “coincidences” today, throwing an arm over his forehead. “I...” He considered his next words carefully. “I am not unwilling. I would venture this... I would go further.”

“Excellent,” said Thranduil, and subsided back down to his original position, his head nestled on Elrond's shoulder in the morning light. He patted Elrond's chest with one hand in satisfaction, as if he had done something particularly pleasing. “I knew you would see things my way eventually.”

For a long moment or two, Elrond waited, but Thranduil did not say anything else. “I am surprised you are still here,” he noted dryly. “I thought you would run to fetch him.”

Thranduil only chuckled, his eyes closed. “And disturb myself this early in the morning?” he asked, stretching out and then snuggling close once more. “Today is enough.”

“You tease me now,” Elrond accused, trying to relax back on the bed, but all he could think about was what it might be like. Just the thought of Legolas watching made his pulse race. To think of him participating... Elrond stared at the ceiling, biting his lip. When had his desires changed? He could not tell the moment. It had happened so slowly he had not even noticed.

“Ai!” Thranduil cried happily, flinging himself onto his back, overacting the part for all he was worth. “Revenge is mine at last!”

“Thranduil!” Elrond admonished, hitting him with a pillow. But the King only closed his eyes again and snored softly, probably deliberately, since he didn't snore as a rule. Elrond huffed. After a minute or two of watching Thranduil on the bed, tormenting himself with vague imaginings, he reached a hand down to touch himself, breathing out silently. He needed to ease himself if Thranduil would not.

“If you do that,” Thranduil said without bothering to open his eyes. “I will prohibit you from release until the end of the day.” Elrond sighed. How did he even know?! “Whatever the day brings,” Thranduil threatened, and Elrond moved his hand away reluctantly. Thranduil was quite capable of making good on those threats, he knew.

After a minute, Elrond sighed again.

“You are very needy,” Thranduil taunted, turning onto his side and gathering Elrond close, reaching down to caress him. Elrond thrust into Thranduil's grip with relief, throwing his head back, knowing that Thranduil watched his responses. Elrond gave them to him gladly.

“And you very willing,” he managed between firm and encouraging strokes, “for a descendent of the Avari.” Elrond teased, but Thranduil and Legolas may well be so. Some of those elves had merged with the Sindar in later times.

Thranduil's hand stilled, leaving Elrond desperate. “Is that a complaint?” he asked, then rolled over to trap Elrond beneath him, sliding one muscled thigh between his. Elrond could feel how hot Thranduil's erection was against his pelvis. “You know what happens when you complain, lass nín,” he said with dark delight. Elrond gulped.

“I am sorry!” he said instantly, opening his eyes to beg for his release. “Please, Master!”

For too long, Thranduil let him wait, looking down on him, haughty and unimpressed. Then he smiled, his hand beginning the caress again, making Elrond moan. “Well, I do feel rather inclined to show mercy. You will give me much pleasure today, Elrondlas,” Thranduil promised, then hummed as if imagining it. “It will be a thing of beauty to share you with my son. You will surrender wholeheartedly. Won't you?”

“I will!” Elrond gasped, his voice and breath stuttering, right on the edge as Thranduil watched him. “I promise!” A few more little pants that were barely breaths and then he came hard, his body jolting a few times, over and over. He pressed upwards, but that only served to remind him of Thranduil's weight, and his erection pressed against Elrond's hip.

When he had recovered, Thranduil pushed him down the bed, demanding. Elrond obliged, pleasuring the King under the covers. “I will make do with your mouth for now, lass nín,” he said. “And save the endurance of your body for later. We will wear you out between us, I assure you.” He stopped when Elrond used his skill to put Thranduil beyond words. He was much easier to manage when he could not speak.

Author's Note: Thank you for reading. I hope you enjoyed it. Expect smut next time. Please leave a word or two – I will respond here: http://www2.adult-fanfiction.org/forum/index.php/topic/55964-pippychicks-lotr-fiction-review-responses/
- 42
- 43
- 44
You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.
Report Story

The Teacher