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
- 43
- 44
- 45
Author's Note: At long last. Sorry about the wait. Here is Thranduil/Elrond/Legolas, with the tiniest bit of Thranduil/Legolas at the end. For all those, like me, who wondered if Thrandolas was going to make it into this story. Well, it is.
Erm, quite a long chapter, but there was no way I was splitting it up. Just a warning.
Hope you enjoy!

Chapter Forty-three
Despite knowing it would happen, after a late breakfast, Elrond found himself with free time. Thranduil and Legolas had made themselves scarce, perhaps to discuss some kind of wicked conspiracy. Elrond found he did not mind, and went wandering in his favourite places, as if to seek peace. Neither their conspiracy or his wandering was necessary. He had made his decision, and would see it through, whatever the consequences turned out to be.
Nevertheless, he walked a short distance and then seated himself on the grass at the edge of a small pool fed by a bubbling spring, a mere run off of the more impressive waterfalls that surrounded Imladris. He half hugged his knees, letting the sunshine and the water work its magic in his soul. The grass around him was dotted with pink clover. Elrond plucked one of the leafy stems and sighed. Three leaves. He twirled it in his fingers with a small secret smile and found himself thinking of Oropher instead. He flicked the leaf away and watched it follow the eddy of the sparkling water.
Content for the moment, he stretched out his legs and leaned back on his hands, lifting his face to the sun as he dreamed. When someone sat at his left side, he did not startle. Nor did he flinch when he sensed someone else on his right. He did not even open his eyes. The three of them sat side-by-side on the grass for a while in silence. Then, in unspoken accord, Elrond's companions began to gently remove the braids from his hair.
“What are you doing?” he asked, drowsy, the heat of the summer's day sinking pleasantly into his bones.
“You will not play the Lord of Imladris with us today, lass nín,” said Thranduil on his left.
“Today you will be merely Elrond for us,” added Legolas.
Elrond felt a thrill in his stomach, but said nothing else and did not move, did not protest, allowing them to do as they would. They finger-combed the braids from his hair, and it felt so pleasing that Elrond sighed and swayed, occasionally turning his head into their touch. Legolas giggled at him, but Thranduil responded by massaging fingertips against his scalp until he was leaning that way constantly, longing for more.
At length he opened his eyes and was caught by the look of hunger Thranduil gave him. Elrond did not speak, merely rose to his feet in silence. He held out his hand to Thranduil with a smile, feeling the warmth of the King's palm next to his as he stood up too. Then, another hand slipped into his right, fingers interlacing. Elrond turned his head to look at Legolas. Though he did not know what they planned, it probably mattered little, the three of them were of one mind at last. They walked back inside together, hand in hand, and Elrond wondered if anything would ever be the same again after this. If he and Thranduil would be the same together, alone. If he and Legolas would.
He was still pondering that as they walked the corridors of his home. Somewhere the minstrels were practising: some kind of melancholy and graceful music for the elves who were departing Middle Earth. More and more of them passed through Imladris every day. It was the end of the time of the elves. The music. It sounded more like a sad and sombre retreat than an advance. He and Celebrían were not ready for that final journey yet, and neither were his lovers. All of a sudden, Elrond was glad of it.
It was strange and exciting, walking between the two of them. He felt somehow cherished, warmed and outnumbered all at once. He regarded them, looking first one way and then the other. They were as beautiful as Celebrían. As the sorrow in the music swelled, Thranduil squeezed his hand. Legolas too. Elrond felt a strong surge of love that eased his mind and heart as he opened the door to the rooms set aside for them and ushered the two of them inside, locking the music out.
He almost expected to be pounced upon before he had the chance to turn around. When it didn't happen, he slowly pulled away the sash he wore draped over his shoulders and faced them. Thranduil and Legolas were stood in the centre of the room, watching him, eyes occasionally darting to each other. Now Thranduil finally had them here, he seemed unsure of himself. Elrond shook his head, incredulous, his own resolve unchanged, and shrugged off his robes, draping them over the chair in front of the dressing table.
The room held little else in the way of furniture. An uncommonly tall wardrobe, a small bedside table, and the largest bed Imladris possessed. It should accommodate all three of them comfortably. It was the same room Celeborn and Galadriel occupied when they visited here. Elrond gazed at Thranduil, who stood still watching him, then at Legolas, who seemed to understand more than his father, for he was halfway out of his upper clothing already, just like Elrond himself.
He and Legolas smiled at each other, and Elrond walked towards him as he unbuttoned his undershirt. They kissed lightly as their fingers worked. Elrond turned his head slightly to Thranduil, who seemed a little awestruck at the picture they made.
“I do hope you are planning to participate, Oropherion,” Elrond noted, “else all of your conniving to bring this about would seem to be a wasted effort.” Legolas laughed at that and began pulling him over to the bed, drawing his attention easily.
They tumbled onto it, still half-dressed, Elrond on top, Legolas' palms on his face, urging him into another kiss. Elrond obliged him, aware that Thranduil came to sit on the other side of the bed watching them. The King had not removed a single thing. Not so much as a shoe.
“I would watch,” he said, faintly breathless as Elrond deliberately rubbed against Legolas, making him groan. “I would see you... both...” Elrond turned his head again, holding a finger to Legolas' lips before he could protest the loss of the kiss.
The look in Thranduil's eyes was so dark and intense, and yet his body leaned forward, as if he would consume the scene before his eyes. It was very him, very dramatic. Elrond rolled to lie between Legolas and the side of the bed upon which Thranduil was sitting. He patted the space beside him.
“Come here, Thranduil,” he instructed, and the King obeyed him, nestling up against that side of him, while Legolas pressed against the other. Keeping his head turned that way, Elrond kissed Thranduil, aggressively at first, then letting him in to chase the taste of Legolas on his tongue. After some moments, he wrenched his attention to Legolas on the other side and kissed him too, knowing he was tasting his father. Thranduil laid a hot palm against his chest and rested his forehead on Elrond's shoulder.
When those first kisses had been shared between them, Elrond let his head fall back onto the pillows and looked at the ceiling.
“Aníra-nín,” Thranduil murmured against his neck, his fingers flexing on Elrond's chest as he sighed. “I had a plan.”
Elrond smiled, having suspected as much, and flickered his eyes down. “Was it a good one, celebmîr nín?” he asked indulgently.
“Yes,” Thranduil replied, a little petulant. Legolas was unlacing Elrond's breeches, fingers reaching in to free him. Elrond felt his body respond to that touch, the flow of his blood subtly altered and it became that much more difficult to think.
“He was going to trick you into getting all tied up,” said Legolas helpfully, and Elrond laughed, his fingers trailing through Thranduil's hair.
“Was he really?” he asked, affectionate, his voice deep as Legolas' strong hand caressed him. Suddenly Thranduil looked up, his eyes flashing.
“Yes. I was going to show Legolas how beautifully you submit to me, Elrondlas. How you crave my touch.” The King smiled. “Even when I hurt you.”
Elrond nodded slowly, seeing it quite easily in his mind's eye. “Perhaps we will save that one for next time,” he said, then nodded to the side of the bed. “Take off your things. Legolas and I are going to get a little more comfortable.” He turned his attention to Legolas. “Aren't we?”
Legolas merely nodded and let Elrond go, kicking off his leggings. Elrond too removed his breeches and resumed teasing Legolas with kisses and touches, making Legolas gasp and writhe beneath him. Thranduil came to lie close beside them, naked, just watching as if spellbound.
“Are you just going to watch as I seduce your son?” Elrond asked between kisses, reaching down to caress Legolas with a firm hand that made him arch upwards.
“I thought I might,” murmured Thranduil, quite pleased with himself.
“Ada!” Legolas gasped, turning his head in shock, one relaxed hand flinging out that Thranduil caught and held. Elrond noticed the joining of their hands, and stared down at Legolas.
“And you? Do you need to hold his hand as I do this?” he teased. Legolas bit his lip and shook his head as he clung to his father's hand, twisting his head in a mixture of defiance and pleasure.
“You know I do not,” he said, then moaned as Elrond rubbed a thumb over the head of his erection. He looked up at Elrond, his eyes dancing with mischief and desire. “But perhaps you would like to instead?” Legolas suggested, and Elrond laughed, feeling a frisson of lust.
“Maybe I would at that,” he admitted, smiling, then set Legolas free as he put himself between them again, breaking their hold on each other. He grasped Thranduil's hand and looked into his eyes.
“I think we do it now,” Thranduil said at last, his lips curving in pleasure as his thumb rubbed circles into Elrond's palm. There was no mistaking his meaning. “Not next time. This time.”
Suddenly Thranduil seemed full of purpose, and he reached behind him, revealing that he'd brought Elrond's discarded sash to the bed with him. “Give me your other hand,” Thranduil ordered. Elrond hesitated, and Legolas laid a hand on his shoulder.
“Elrond, I would see you surrender to us like this,” Legolas said softly. “I begged to be shown it. Would you refuse me?”
His mouth was suddenly too dry, and he felt as if this was all inevitable. “I refuse you nothing,” he said, giving Thranduil his other hand, and he wasn't even sure which one of them he was speaking to. Thranduil immediately began to bind his wrists, so well practised at it he never even looked away from Elrond's eyes.
Looking at Legolas was out of the question, even though his palms roamed over Elrond's chest as Thranduil secured his bound wrists to the bedstead, leaving him mostly helpless. He needed Thranduil for this, needed him to fulfil his role.
“I will have your obedience here, lass nín,” Thranduil said, as always seeming to understand what he required, moving one hand to caress Elrond's face with the back of his fingers. “Tell me I have it.”
It was like falling under a spell, and Elrond could not help himself, seeing the intent in Thranduil's eyes. “Yes, Master,” he murmured, ignoring Legolas' gasp at the side of him. “I will do as you wish.”
“I already share you with my son,” Thranduil said, keeping his voice low and hypnotic. “We have shared you for many years. What we do today is no different, and you should not count it as such, do you understand?”
“Yes, Master.” Elrond said the words, and yet his eyes flickered briefly to the side – to Legolas, and he drew in a deep breath.
“If you require it, I will blindfold you,” Thranduil said, and Elrond shook his head quickly, imagining how lost he would feel between the two of them if he could not see.
“No!” he said immediately, and closed his eyes briefly. “I mean, I do not need it.”
For a long moment, Thranduil just looked at him, then appeared to accept his preference. “Very good. Now let us begin.”
Thranduil placed a restrictive hand on his shoulder, nodding to Legolas, who did the same on his other side. “I hope you are daring, ion nín,” said Thranduil, his voice smooth, darting in to lick at the point of Elrond's ear, instantly reigniting the desire he'd felt when he had been teasing Legolas. Elrond moaned softly, and they both ignored him.
“In this, I shall be at least as daring as you, ada,” Legolas promised, then turned to Elrond and smiled wickedly. In that moment he was almost a match for his father, and Elrond wondered if Thranduil had in fact spent the time this morning giving him instruction.
“Do as I do,” Thranduil instructed, “and note his reactions.” Those lips moved down from his ear, and Elrond was relieved until the King's tongue was circling his nipple, not quite touching. He began to tremble with need, arching his chest up in a wordless plea. And then Legolas, almost the same on the other side.
“Master...” Elrond groaned, burning for their touch, hoping that would gain him some relief. “Please.” He looked down, but wasn't sure which one of them he wanted to watch, and settled for closing his eyes.
“Gently now,” said that seductive voice, ignoring his pleading. And instead of lips or tongue to ease the yearning, it was teeth, just tugging slightly at his erect nipple, nibbling, so that he wanted to beg for softness. When Legolas mirrored the touch, Elrond whimpered helplessly. Yielding, desperate.
They tormented him between them, eventually beginning to move down his body as if they were one, mirroring each other so perfectly Elrond almost fought the bindings around his wrists.
When they got to his hardness, his body surged upward to meet them, and Thranduil chastised him sternly for that until he subsided. They each held down one of his thighs, keeping him still, and then Elrond felt one of them licking at him. The flat of the tongue felt so good Elrond could not help raising his head to look, seeing Legolas. But then Thranduil joined him, and Elrond's mind fled.
Two tongues stroking over him, from root to tip, hot, wet, pressure, all combining into one sensation. Elrond could not help his body moving beneath their hands. All of his heat and blood seemed to rush down to meet their touch as they licked at him, moving over him in impossible spirals and delicate flickering flutters of wet muscle.
His breath was harsh and rhythmic, his heart racing, the rush of a chill spreading over his skin as if they touched him everywhere at once as he felt something inside him on the verge of opening outwards. For a long minute, Elrond didn't even realise it had stopped, but his climax retreated and he lifted his heavy head to see Thranduil looking up at him, his hand on Legolas' shoulder to keep him back. Elrond saw and felt his own cock jerk towards them, and groaned.
“Hold!” Thranduil said, commanding him, a note of warning in his tone. “Hold back, do you hear me?”
Elrond actually sobbed, his body seizing and then relaxing into a bone-deep shudder. “Master...” he moaned as Thranduil watched him. “I need...” he begged, and yet without their touch his body drew back from that edge, obeying Thranduil.
“Can you take more?” Thranduil demanded then.
“Yes, Master,” Elrond replied, though he had no idea if he could or not. All he knew was that he needed them to continue, whatever the price, even if that was his Master's displeasure.
Thranduil lifted Elrond's leg, tucking himself beneath it. Elrond raised his head to watch, uncertain what was to happen next.
“Legolas,” Thranduil said quietly, drawing him forward. Elrond gasped when he felt his erection sliding between Legolas' lips, inside his hot mouth, pressing against the flat of his tongue. But then suddenly he felt hot breath lower down, beneath his hardness, and understood what Thranduil intended.
“Please!” he cried out, unsure if he wanted Thranduil to stop or to continue. And then it was happening. Legolas sucking him in deep, undulating his tongue against Elrond's shaft while Thranduil licked and sucked at his balls one by one, so gently it felt like he must come or go insane. He heard himself, constantly whimpering as they had him, both together, and after some time they finally stopped. Elrond was trembling deeply, almost as if in shock, his hair damp with sweat against his scalp, and yet he'd managed to get through it still hard and wanting.
As if to reward him, Elrond felt Thranduil's hand curl around him, firm, squeezing, and his breath caught in his throat, but in truth even Thranduil's skilled massage was easier than the licking – at least until Legolas moved up the bed to diligently torment his ear, sucking on the tip of it, throwing him into that lost place again where he didn't know anything except for the sensations they gave him, and the responses they garnered.
It seemed he remained suspended there between them for an age, trapped between their body heat until he was begging and lost, craving, so hard and eager. No longer did he know the words that tumbled from his lips. And then at last, Legolas stopped tormenting him to speak.
“Ada?” Legolas' voice, uncertain. “Should I?”
Elrond did not hear any response, but he felt Legolas' fingers, slippery with oil, pressing and sliding inside him. He struggled, but he didn't mean to, and his heart clenched as he opened his eyes and turned his head to beg Thranduil's forgiveness.
“I am sorry, Master! I do not protest!” Elrond said, forgetting why it was important except that he had promised he would not. Had vowed he would not. With a sound of desire, Thranduil caught those murmured apologies with his lips, as if he would taste them, his tongue hot and purposeful in Elrond's mouth.
Legolas' fingers were unerringly accurate as he massaged Elrond deep inside, skimming over his prostate so that he moaned into Thranduil's kiss, while his Master's hand on him was compelling him closer and closer to the edge again.
Before he could get there, Legolas had finished preparing him, and Elrond turned obediently, drawing himself up to his knees, hands gripping the bedstead as Thranduil stroked fingers down his back, praising him, but then the tone of his voice changed.
“You owe me this, Elrondlas. You owe me eternity,” Thranduil murmured, and Elrond gave him a hasty assent as Thranduil got into position behind him.
“Ada?” said Legolas, clearly confused.
Without answering straight away, Thranduil pressed inside slowly, and Elrond felt every solid inch of the King filling his passage. With a deliberate groan, Thranduil pulled back, and then thrust back in quickly.
“He made me wait, Legolas,” Thranduil said, and Elrond whimpered, spreading his knees wider, encouraging. Thranduil laughed softly. “Yes. You give me everything now. I do not resent, meleth nín,” he said tenderly, and Elrond felt his heart expand at those words as Thranduil began to move, slow, as if he intended to keep going for a long time.
Elrond moaned. He could feel his own neglected erection swinging idly below him as he moved to meet each of Thranduil's movements. “Pengolodh,” he whispered, his hands sliding over Elrond's back. “I have you now.”
“Thranduil,” Elrond said, almost begging, for his whispered words had conjured up the relationship as it had existed between them so long ago, and it was not compatible with what Thranduil was doing to him. Not at all. Try as he might to relax, his body was tightening in spasms of protest that only increased Thranduil's enjoyment. “Please...”
“It is for all time,” Thranduil said, reminding him, proving that he knew very well what he was doing. Elrond gasped as Thranduil's hand reached around to caress his erection. “Stay nice and hard for us, Pengolodh,” he warned. Elrond whimpered, his hands twisting in the bindings as the past and present collided in him, clashing. And then, impossibly, they began to coalesce. “Obey me,” said Thranduil, stroking him, claiming his body.
“Yes, Thranduil,” Elrond said, and heard his changed response; not 'Master' but Thranduil, and he knew they were one and the same. He ceased his struggles and relaxed again, giving in. He turned his head slightly, and saw Legolas touching himself, his hand moving slowly over his hardness while he watched his own father. Elrond shivered and closed his eyes to the image.
“Very good, Elrondlas,” Thranduil said. “But you have another pupil here.” Gently, Thranduil withdrew, still hard. “I would have you show me how well you submit to him.”
Then it was Legolas pressing inside him, sliding deep so that Elrond arched his back, hissing at the change of sensation, for they were different, felt different inside him.
Thranduil hummed in pleasure by the side of him now. “Oh, I wish you could see yourself, lass nín, as my son fucks you.” Elrond gulped, suddenly realising that Thranduil was really watching, and he couldn't stop himself imagining the image of Legolas' erection disappearing into his body. “How does he feel, Elrond?”
Legolas' thrusts were a little faster than Thranduil's had been, and he suddenly nudged Elrond's prostate, making him cry out in pleasure. “Ai! He feels good, Master!”
Now that Legolas had found the correct angle, he kept doing it, until Elrond was constantly crying out and moaning, his mouth wide open in pleasure, incapable of words.
“Imagine, Elrondlas,” Thranduil said wickedly, “this is how your twin sons feel when he has them.”
“Ada!” Legolas said in shock as Elrond cried out, slowing to a sudden stop, but it was true and they all knew it. How many times had he seen the three of them heading off together? Studious Elladan and irrepressible Elrohir, both with Legolas. Legolas who was currently buried deep inside him. For an instant he did not dare move, and hoped Legolas would not. Such a sinful thought. Elrond licked his lips, waiting for time to move forward again.
“Continue, Legolas,” drawled Thranduil at last. “He wants it. Don't you, lass nín?”
Elrond could not speak, but Thranduil was right, and he moved back as far as the bindings on his wrists would allow, impaling himself a little until Legolas gave in with a helpless moan and began moving again, harder now.
Thranduil moved closer, until his lips were touching Elrond's ear. His next silently whispered words were meant for Elrond alone. “Do you think he takes them one after the other?” Elrond instantly imagined it. “When they moan beneath him, it is you who taught him how to give that pleasure. He surely must think of you then.”
“Stop!” Elrond said, shaking his head, but Thranduil only laughed softly. He tried not to think of it, but as Legolas fucked him he couldn't help it. Elladan and Elrohir, done just like this, feeling these sensations. He imagined Legolas in the mountains with them, taking his time with them and thinking of him. He moaned loudly at the idea of it. Legolas found that perfect angle again, making him forget all else, just as Thranduil wrapped a hand around him.
“Stay wanting,” Thranduil said, and it was easy to obey. The thoughts of his sons did not put him off. They had been adults for well over two thousand years.
Thranduil's hand left him, and he moved to confer quietly with Legolas – more conspiracy. But then Legolas became still again, deep inside him, as if waiting, the warmth of his palms on Elrond's buttocks, kneading them.
“Pleasure my son,” Thranduil commanded. “Make him come, Elrondlas.”
Privately, Elrond began to wonder how much humiliation he could bear, but he did as Thranduil wanted. He concentrated, working his muscles to stimulate and massage Legolas' hardness, squeezing and releasing, rhythmic, until Legolas was gasping at the sensation as Elrond continued.
“Ada!” he said, then, “Elrond!”
“Ion nín,” Thranduil said affectionately. “He feels good, doesn't he?”
Apparently, Legolas could not spare the breath to answer. He made a little sound of something that was almost anguish, then began moving again, fast and hard, driven past the point where he was in control. Elrond immediately relaxed as Legolas fucked him hard, bringing tears to his eyes, each of his movements ending in the sound of a slight slap that they all heard. And then, at last, he came, jerking in spasms as his breathing slowed and became shaky.
Elrond thought it was over. Legolas pulled away, and it sounded wet and so dirty. But then Thranduil was behind him again, the tip of his erection pressing against Elrond's entrance, demanding.
“Master!” Elrond gasped, sure his body could not take it. Not again. But Thranduil hushed him, pushing inside, determined, until he was fully there. It was easy for him. The inside of his passage was slick with Legolas' seed. Elrond felt sore and used as once more Thranduil reached below him, working his hand until Elrond was rock hard again. “Please...” he begged, but Thranduil let him go without finishing him.
“Not much more now, lass nín. You've done so well here.” And then he began to rock inside Elrond, slowly at first, barely moving. Then as the way eased and Elrond relaxed, Thranduil let go, taking him as hard and fast as Legolas had done before him. Elrond turned his head, and saw Legolas had fetched a dampened cloth from the dressing table to clean himself with. He caught Elrond's eye and then smiled, moving down the bed out of Elrond sight to watch.
Thranduil's hands were on Elrond's hips, but not tightly. His fingertips twitched and tickled against Elrond's skin, dictating his movements, the touch so light in contrast to his thrusts. It did not take Thranduil long to come like this, with Elrond encouraging him, and he placed a line of tender kisses down Elrond's spine before he finally pulled out.
More whispers, and Elrond wondered if he should turn over again now, but a harsh slap against his buttocks made him gasp, and he realised this wasn't over. Hadn't Legolas seen enough? Clearly not.
“For pleasure, not punishment,” Thranduil announced, instructing him, and Elrond nodded as the inevitable tears stung his eyes. They had both taken him, and he was too tired to resist the strong emotions this treatment evoked.
“Yes, Master,” he said, and earned another slap. He sobbed helplessly, but remained in position and did not beg.
“Ada?” Legolas questioned, his voice quiet.
“Watch, and learn,” said Thranduil patiently. “He will stay hard through this.” Another strike, and Elrond's entire body jolted forward, while his head dropped down as far as it would go. “Won't you?” Thranduil asked, demanding a response from him.
“Yes, Master...” Elrond was quite sure he would do anything Thranduil wished, and that his body would obey its Master before anything else.
“Would you like to try him?” Thranduil asked Legolas, and Elrond awaited his answer in a kind of dread. He had it when he felt Legolas' flat palm strike him too. His face burned with embarrassment, but he said nothing as they took turns with him. At one point, the cloth was used to clean him, wiping away the oil and essence that leaked from him, and that was as humiliating as the rest. Yet as Thranduil had predicted, his desire did not wane, but increased, so that he was sure he must be dripping onto the bed. His cock felt hot, while the rest of him was becoming cold and shaky, the sweat of earlier drying on him now.
When it was over, there were tears streaming down his cheeks, but he was so hard he thought the first touch would undo him. Thranduil reached below him, and he felt himself jerk, but the King didn't touch his erection. Instead he cupped Elrond's balls in one hand, feeling at them in his palm. The King drew in an awed breath through his teeth.
“Very tight. Good, lass nín,” he said, and Elrond whimpered. “I think you deserve a reward. Turn over now.”
He could barely obey, his muscles useless and weak, shivering and trembling, but they helped him until he was laid on his back between them again, his hands still bound above his head. He gave Thranduil a pleading gaze. No more teasing. He could not bear it. Thranduil looked inscrutable.
“Legolas,” he said, never looking away from Elrond's eyes. “Ride him to completion.”
Elrond pulled at the bindings and shook his head. “No!” he cried out, and Thranduil frowned at that, misunderstanding him completely.
“No, Master – Thranduil... Please... you... If this be a reward,” he begged, throwing a glance at Legolas who smiled and then nodded, appearing to understand. “If it be that, let it be you.”
Comprehension dawned on Thranduil's face, and he reached out a hand to trace his fingers along Elrond's jaw. “Elrond,” he said, clearly stunned into using his name. Without losing eye contact, he held out that same hand for the oil, watching Elrond all the while as he prepared himself. He did not dawdle, and when he was poised to take Elrond inside, he drew in a sudden breath as he sank down, closing his eyes.
Elrond had been denied for a long time, but he needed to make this last for at least a few movements. He held his breath and almost growled, trying to resist the sweet clench of Thranduil's body wrapped around him, so heated. Thranduil opened his eyes, saw Elrond looking at him. He raised himself up.
“What do you call me, Thranduil?” Elrond asked, all of his muscles taut with concentration, hoping Thranduil would understand the gift he intended. He intended it as Legolas looked on, his hands reaching up untie the bindings that kept Elrond their prisoner.
Thranduil's eyes darkened. “Pengolodh,” he said, and Elrond lifted his hips, thrusting upwards, making Thranduil moan.
At last his hands were free! And though his arms ached, Elrond slid his palms up Thranduil's thighs until he could curl his hands around Thranduil's hips.
“That is right, Thranduil. Again,” he ordered, enjoying himself now as Thranduil obeyed him. Calling him 'teacher' while he took all the pleasure that Thranduil's body could give him. It was an old fantasy, and they'd enacted it so many times, but now it seemed to Elrond as if things were finally right, how they should be. The Thranduil of the past and the present were no longer separate in his mind. Thranduil was the King, the Master and his pupil. They were the same.
Elrond drew his knees up to get more leverage, and when at last he came too, holding Thranduil still, a sense of peace and well-being suffused him. “Thranduil,” he whispered and dragged the King down to hold him close as Legolas threw an arm over them both. At last it was done, this thing between the three of them. It would not be the last time, Elrond was certain, but it was a beginning.
Thranduil rolled away to his other side, then they were both cuddling him, their body heat welcome and pleasant as Elrond drifted happily. He sensed them leaning over him and opened his eyes lazily. He would not forget what he saw next for many hundreds of years.
Thranduil held Legolas' chin inbetween his thumb and forefinger. They smiled at each other.
“Thank you for this, ion nín,” said Thranduil, confirming that it had been his fantasy all along.
“Ada,” Legolas said, lowering his lashes in acknowledgement, then darted forward and kissed Thranduil's lips. It was meant to be a chaste kiss, and it almost was. Except that Elrond could see how they both startled and the kiss lengthened. Their tongues touched – Elrond could see it – Legolas moaned and pulled away, some kind of colour in his cheeks that was not due to shame but sudden interest.
Elrond sighed, and they both stared down at him. “You are each as bad as the other!” he observed, and they glanced at each other, then gave him a look of surprise.
“That is strange,” Thranduil deliberated. “Because from the moment I first desired, I desired you, and you taught me that the forbidden is sweet. You kept me near you far longer than you should have done... You dominated my every waking moment, even when I did not choose it. And you made sure I obeyed you.”
Elrond groaned, covering his eyes with one arm to escape Thranduil's assessment of his faults. He was quite right, of course he was. “And Legolas?” Thranduil queried in mock astonishment. “You certainly taught him about desire. Did he not, ion nín?”
“I never knew desire until he showed it to me,” Legolas commented. “I was a blank page, and he wrote upon it. If I am wrong now, then it must surely be the fault of my teacher.”
“Please, stop,” Elrond said from beneath his arm. But they didn't, continuing to discuss the many lessons they had learned from him as if they were comparing notes. Elrond covered his face with his hands.
At last they had teased him enough, and settled, one at each side, hands sneakily caressing him. Elrond lowered his hands and dared to open his eyes. They were both looking at him. Thranduil was smirking, and Legolas was almost an exact replica of his father.
“Of course, you could always teach us both a lesson,” suggested Thranduil innocently. Elrond laughed harshly at that. Perhaps they even deserved it.
“Yes,” Legolas interjected. “You would have our attention if you did,” he added, his eyes twinkling.
The fantasy Elrond's mind came up with then was not repeatable. Not even to Thranduil. He drew in a breath, deliberating. “When I have rested,” he announced, and could not help noticing how pleased they both looked. They were all of them completely doomed, Elrond thought.

Author's Note: Thank you for reading. I hope you enjoyed this chapter – please leave me a word or two on your way out! :) If you comment, I will respond here: http://www2.adult-fanfiction.org/forum/index.php/topic/55964-pippychicks-lotr-fiction-review-responses/
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The Teacher