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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: Warning for het content (Elrond/Celebrían). If that isn't your cup of tea, don't worry, the latter half of the chapter is Elronduil. Enjoy!
Chapter Forty-five
When they arrived at their rooms, Elrond toed the door open before him then tossed Celebrían onto the bed, only pausing to lock the door behind them. When he turned to her, he pounced, making her laugh and declare surrender almost immediately. Now, in the light of the lamps in their rooms, he could see it wasn't a dress she wore, but a two piece outfit. He freed her from the white lacy vest top she was wearing, then grinned and shifted down, moving aside the layers of her skirts as she lie still.
“How is it that you can wear so many skirts?” Elrond demanded, and Celebrían giggled. For a moment her head appeared over the layers of ruffled material as she watched him trying to find the end of them. They hadn't seemed this voluminous in the intimate semi-darkness of the Hall of Fire.
“Let me take th –” Celebrían began, then gave a startled sound. Elrond had found the centre of them, and slid his palms under her upper thighs to pull her down to him. Her skirts – all of them – were high waisted and so there was plenty of room for him to run his hands over her toned legs, pausing to dip his head and graze his lips against her hip bones.
“Elrond,” she said, and he heard the gentle thud of her upper body falling down onto the bed as she lifted her pelvis eagerly. Elrond chuckled.
“Easy,” he said, keeping his palms flat, and his lips confined to the innocent places. She was strong, and so she almost lifted him. He had to use the whole of his upper body weight to keep her pinned to the bed. Her legs were already parting wide to make room for him, and he turned his head, nipping at the inside of one of her thighs as he held it in his hands. Celebrían squealed.
“You are such a terrible tease!” she accused, and tried to move again, with little success.
“What do you want, hmm?” he asked, using his biceps on her legs to keep her still while he nudged at her linen-covered pubic mound with his nose and his chin. Her scent and intimate heat surrounded him, and when his blood answered, it rushed down his body, but that could wait for now: he had something else in mind. She moaned and tried to press upwards. He didn't allow it, and instead poked his tongue at her slit through the cotton, dragging his tongue down until she shivered.
“Elrond! You know!” she said, breathless from this more than she had been from the dancing. “Off!” she demanded, and Elrond laughed slowly, relenting, lifting his weight so he could drag the underwear down her legs. Celebrían's long legs worked around him, freeing one leg, then the other, her toes flinging the underwear onto the floor somewhere as Elrond went back to his prize.
Despite her demands, he took his time, kissing and nibbling lightly at the crease between her thigh and labia. First the left, then the right, working his way inward with little kisses until she was trembling beneath his mouth. He brought his arms in so that he could spread her outer lips with his thumbs, and just looked at her laid bare before him.
“So beautiful,” he said, and made his tongue into a stiff point to explore every fold of her, circling around her clitoris while she moaned for him and begged. At last he took pity and kissed her there, resulting in a sudden jolt as her body lifted. Somehow, impossibly, she had folded and raised her right leg so that her foot was up near his head, the point of her toes touching his ear. Elrond turned and kissed those toes before going back to his task, this time suckling at her clit as he sealed his lips there, rubbing his tongue in heavy regular circles that he knew would drive her wild with wanting.
And wild she was, her hips moving slightly in time with his teasing while inarticulate high pitched cries drifted down from her lips. Beneath his chin, he could feel her heat increasing, and he left off for a moment to dip down with his tongue, tasting the first of her arousal, wet and sweet. Celebrían gasped.
“Yes!” she whispered harshly. “Please! Please do it, Elrond!” His lips curved into a smile against her intimate parts, and he knew she would feel it. But he knew what she wanted too, and he let his lips and tongue get back to work on her clitoris while he pressed a finger inside her, the way made easy by her body. Celebrían seized around that finger, and Elrond paused for her to relax again before he went further, feeling her open up to him. Her body knew his touch, and soon he was taking her with that finger while he suckled rhythmically, sending her into spasms of delight. Her legs were shaking now as he tickled upwards, his finger deep inside, pressing, as if he would touch that finger to his lips.
“Ahhh...” she cried, and this was a lower, more animal sound, not the high-pitched breathy moaning of before. Her muscles clenched around his finger and then twitched, firing off all at once so that Elrond could only think of getting his cock in there, into that maddening texture of squeezing sensation. But he held, she was coming for him, the motions of his finger were producing a tell-tale slick sound, and he removed it when she had subsided, raising his head a little to lick the shiny, thick cream from it as Celebrían flopped down to the bed. She moved now and again, moaning from aftershocks as Elrond flickered his tongue out to tease them from her, dipping down once more to get a last taste of that honey before he withdrew.
When he reappeared from beneath her skirts, he immediately pulled them all down past the flare of her hips as she laid on the bed, her eyes dark and her cheeks flushed. She was a vision! Her lips were wet where she had licked them, dark because she had bitten them in her passion. Elrond undressed himself as quickly as he could, never taking his eyes away from her. He didn't care where his clothes went, and left them scattered over the floor as he crawled onto the bed between her spread legs. He let his hands capture the shape of her body, from her pelvis, over her flat stomach. His fingers curled around her ribcage, then settled on her breasts, squeezing lightly.
At last Celebrían seemed to come back to life, raising herself up to claim a kiss from him. A kiss that must still be flavoured with her own sweet musk. Her delicate hands rested on the side of his face and he wrapped his arms around her, palms flat on the flawless expanse of her back. He pressed her close, could feel the bones under her skin – so fragile – and he felt an fierce need to protect her. And to make love to her.
He made a sound low in his throat when one of her hands moved down to wrap around his erection, her long thin fingers squeezing perfectly. Elrond moved forward, only one thought in his mind. To take her, to be inside her while she cried out. Yet Celebrían moved back, her free hand on his shoulder to forestall him. His mind was cloudy with lust and desire. She was not strong enough – she couldn't stop him – and yet he waited for an instant, staring into her eyes.
“Cel,” he said deeply, possessive – wanting – but she tilted her head in expectation of being obeyed. Wait.
When she was sure he would not move, she moved her arms back behind her and lifted herself up onto them, her legs suddenly wrapping around Elrond's back, pulling him forward. Yes... now! Elrond looked down between them, taking himself in hand to guide his cock into her heat. Quickly he slid his hands under her buttocks and drove forward at the same time as pulling her body towards him.
Celebrían cried out, and so did he. She was so tight like this and he almost growled. His fingers curled around her hips, sinking into her skin, certain to leave bruises, yet she did not protest. Her body seemed to know, and it relaxed slightly, just enough so that every thrust Elrond gave her was so pleasurable it made him work faster and harder. He kept looking down, and he could see his cock moving in and out. The rim of her vulva was stretched tight around him, so that every time he drew away he could see it trying to hold onto him as well as feel it. Her body seemed so slight compared to his own, almost as if it should not be possible to take her like this, and that only made him want more. It was like a whip to his lust, driving him on.
“Cel,” he managed, looking up, and then he saw her. She was moaning again, had been since he began, little pleading hitches of sound. Her weight was on her hands, keeping her body up from the bed, and her head was thrown back. Her hair was slightly damp, a dark mithril colour that clung to her shoulders, and sweat was trickling down from the hollow of her throat towards her breasts. They bounced with each of his movements.
Groaning with lust, Elrond let his weight move forward and down, moving her arms as gently as he could to encourage her down onto her back, trapping her breasts between their bodies. “I need to... I need to...” he said, burying his face in her neck and her hair as he continued to move, wanting in, wanting deeper. More. Her arms were around his shoulders then, holding him close, fingernails digging into his back, her legs still wrapped around him.
Elrond lost all reason and restraint, driving into her heavy and hard, pounding until he could hear the slap of their skin at the end of each thrust. She seemed to do well taking it, begging for more, those fingernails digging deep now as she tightened around him again in a kind of fluttering when she came for the second time. Clinging on just barely, Elrond managed to last it out, then spent inside her, letting everything go into that act of possession until he collapsed onto her softness, empty, his skin damp with sweat and his heart thundering.
Her hands stroked over his skin like a promise, and her voice was his companion, soothing and gentle while he regained something of himself. He groaned and rolled away to let her breathe, and she followed him, curling up against his chest, as precious and beloved to him as their children. Celebrían.
“I love you,” he said, holding her close and safe in his arms, one hand reaching up to move a stray wisp of hair from her flushed face. She smiled with her eyes closed.
“I love you, too. My Elrond, I have missed you.” She drew in a breath and let it out, as graceful in this as in her dancing.
“Don't be gone so long next time?” he needled, and she laughed tiredly, stretching her arms up to his shoulders.
“I can't think of a next time,” she said. “I will stay here with you, in this moment. Forever.”
He nuzzled his cheek against hers, her skin was so soft. Then they slept, holding onto one another as if they would never let go. As if between them they really could stop time.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
After a couple of days, when they could bear to be apart, Celebrían had excused herself to go and practice with the dancers. Whatever it was they were planning, it was pandemonium. There were elves rushing to and fro from the tailors, the carpenters, the smithy. The Hall of Fire was now completely out of bounds while the musicians learnt the new pieces, and entire portions of his home were taken up by artists, painting scenery.
Seeking some measure of serenity, Elrond more or less barricaded himself in his office, and Arwen was his company until she too began shooing him out out of the way, complaining that he had no work, and was merely disorganising things. There was nothing else for it. Elrond went walking.
It was early afternoon, so there was still some light to be had in the day, yet before he had got very far away from the main house, someone fell into step beside him, so silently he hadn't even realised they were there.
“Legolas,” he said warmly, turning his head, but he was wrong. It was Thranduil, who smiled in apology.
“Legolas is nowhere to be found,” Thranduil announced. “I am sorry to disappoint you. But I think you may be right – he has joined the dancers.”
Elrond chuckled at his woebegone expression. “You have never disappointed me, Thranduil,” he said, then took the king's hand in his as they continued strolling.
After a minute or two, Elrond could not contain his curiosity. “Since we are alone,” he began, giving Thranduil a quick glance. “How are things between you and Legolas?”
Thranduil smirked, and his palm was warm and dry and Elrond's own. “I hear the real question behind your words, and the answer is no. We are not.”
That meant when he and Legolas were together that way, it was always with him. Elrond thought about his role as facilitator for a moment or two, troubled.
“Don't you realise yet, I share everything with you?” Thranduil stopped walking, turning to face him. Elrond stared, and knew it was true. Thranduil asked nothing in return, but gave everything. It occurred to Elrond that if he tried to present Thranduil as an unselfish, unspoiled and generous soul he would not be believed by many, and that made him feel sad for an instant. Because to Elrond he was all of those things.
“Where would you like to go?” Thranduil asked suddenly, turning away before Elrond could kiss him. Not quite everything then, Elrond reflected ruefully, seeing the slight curve to Thranduil's lips. Really - he and Legolas suited each other!
As one they looked out at the valley, at its myriad bridges and streams, its waterfalls and graceful arches. Elrond smiled. “Have we light enough?” he asked, and Thranduil shrugged.
“Only one way to find out,” he returned, and then he was off down the path, slipping out of Elrond's grasp, running ahead. “Follow me!” he called back, his deep laughter resonating back up the path to where Elrond stood.
Grinning, Elrond hurried to catch up. They were both dressed for walking out, and it became a kind of competition between them as they raced through the city, drawing looks as they went. For once Elrond did not care. Soon they were free of their passing audience as the country around them became wilder, and Elrond remembered when he'd once walked out here with Legolas. Back then, Legolas had wandered into the darkening woods on his own. Not so for Thranduil. Elrond followed him, chasing the glimpse of him as he passed between the trees.
They had a favourite place in here, on the edge of Imladris, and Elrond did not have to see Thranduil to know he made for it. When he got to the cave entrance, the king was nowhere to be seen. Unfazed, Elrond walked inside and climbed the fall of rock at the rear of the opening, hoisting himself up.
He emerged onto a grassy plateau that was a kind of promontory, giving a view over the tops of the trees that led to the Trollshaws in the distance. Behind him was a cliff, its surface worn smooth and shiny with water. It trickled down the cliff face constantly, and Elrond took a deep breath of the cool, sweet tasting air here.
Thranduil was stood looking out at the forest, and the setting sun. As he turned, the light changed, and Thranduil's beauty stood out in such clarity Elrond was momentarily stunned. Thranduil too looked upon him the same way. Elrond walked forward to touch his perfection, fingers tracing the shape of his face, alighting gently upon the fall of his hair. “Celebmîr, indeed,” Elrond said, and Thranduil smiled.
“Lass nín,” he began, and Elrond put a finger to his lips, silencing him.
“If you don't mind,” he said pointedly, “these are my woods. This is my realm. When the sun has set, you will need me to guide you back.” Elrond raised an eyebrow as Thranduil stared at him, longing to yield. Yes.
Elrond pulled Thranduil back from the edge of the plateau, towards the shimmering cliff face. “You will give me everything I desire here, Oropherion, won't you?” Thranduil's eyes darkened with pleasure as Elrond drew him forward, to a place where the grass turned to soft, springy moss.
They sank to their knees, already kissing, their hands fumbling with each other's clothing as the light cast tones of rose and bronze over their skin. A button or two tore loose and ricocheted against the cliff like pebbles. How was it he could know Thranduil so many times and still want him this badly, desire him so much?
Elrond knew every inch of Thranduil, but that didn't stop him wanting to capture it all over again with the touch of his hands, with his lips. The king was uncharacteristically subdued, and Elrond paused in his eager exploration and seduction.
“What is wrong?” he asked, concerned. Thranduil bit his lip, looking a little uncomfortable.
“You do not have any ropes or such here?” he queried, and Elrond shook his head, mystified.
“No. I do not.”
Thranduil heaved a great sigh, and his cheeks flushed with colour. After everything they had done, he could blush? Elrond had to stifle his laughter. “Well, then,” Thranduil said at last, his hands clenched into fists. “I am attempting to surrender. By my own will.”
At that Elrond did laugh. “Oh?” he said. “And how is that going for you?” he asked, beyond amused, pressing a line of kisses over Thranduil's collarbone towards his chest.
Thranduil threw his head back, a sound like a growl coming from his throat. “It was going tolerably well until you remarked on it.”
Elrond leaned over Thranduil's prone body, shaking his clothes until he found what he expected, a small vial of oil. Without saying anything else, he used it to touch the king intimately, watching him as he struggled to stay still and accept it. At times Thranduil sneaked an eye open, only to find Elrond watching him. At times he sighed in pleasure at Elrond's caress, his legs parting further, unconsciously. He trembled with the necessity to hold still, to be passive, and his knuckles were white with the tension of it.
“You must relax, Thranduil,” Elrond ordered, and the king's body answered him, opening around his fingers as he let go of a pent up breath, his fists loosening on the ground, his fingers opening out, splayed flat on the moss.
“How are you feeling now?” Elrond asked, considerate, and felt a pulse of Thranduil's muscles as he answered.
“Like I want to fuck you until you've forgotten your own name,” he replied with a sigh, and Elrond smirked. Thranduil did not raise his head, and for a long moment Elrond considered the king's considerable erection, untouched and untried. At least so far.
“You know I can't allow that, Thranduil,” Elrond said, letting his authority as Lord here creep into his voice. “I am your elder still,” Elrond reminded him, and the king shivered. “But you are doing well. I am pleased.”
Finishing with the internal massage, Elrond finally touched himself with the oil on his palm, groaning deliberately as he looked upon Thranduil, laid out on the ground before him like a sacrifice, his skin and hair gilded with the tones of sunset, like a fall of golden leaves in the green of the wood.
As he moved to cover Thranduil's body with his own, he raised one of Thranduil's knees to make it easier. The king tensed, and Elrond hummed in disapproval. “Do you still need your teacher, Thranduil?” he asked sternly. “Do as I wish, else you will find your every waking moment filled with lessons!”
“I will always need you,” Thranduil declared, his arms coming up to pull Elrond closer, lifting his head for a kiss that Elrond gave to him. “I am ready,” he said then, with a puff of warm breath against Elrond's lips, hips lifting, urging him on.
“You are not,” Elrond noted darkly. “You have neglected something. What is it?”
He waited, poised, head tilted as an angle as he watched the dawning realisation on Thranduil's face. He gave a little cry of need, and now there it was at last – his submission. Thranduil's eyes opened at last, and Elrond had seen so little of this lately it made his heart jolt. Yes. Give in, he thought tenderly. When they were with Legolas, he did not see this in Thranduil. Not so deep, not so total.
“Fuck me,” Thranduil said, the remaining tension seeping from him suddenly as he broke. “Please, Elrond. Please.”
Elrond smiled. “Very good, Thranduil,” he said, giving praise where it was due, seeing how it deepened the submission in his lover. Then he pressed inside slowly, ignoring the will of his flesh which demanded that he make his claim sudden and deep. Thranduil moaned, his eyes closing again.
Only when he was buried in Thranduil to the root did he give rein to his body's wishes, his hips thrusting and pumping harder and faster as the king's body yielded to him. He drew his weight back and aimed up as well as inside, making Thranduil shriek in need. His hands were in fists again, ripping up the moss from the ground.
“Is this what you wanted, pen neth?” Elrond asked harshly, and Thranduil let out his breath in a sob of pleasure.
“More, Elrond,” he begged. “Take it from me. Take everything you want. Please...” Elrond wrapped his fingers around Thranduil's erection, moving his hand in time with his hips. Thranduil's jaw wrenched at a slight angle.
“I cannot endure!” he cried out. “I will come!”
Elrond did not stop. “Very good,” Elrond remarked, trying to hide his breathlessness, trying to keep some semblance of mind for Thranduil's sake. “Come for me, Thranduil. Show it to me. Show it to your teacher.”
After a few seconds, Thranduil's body began to seize, over and over. Every movement of Elrond's hand resulted in a string of essence, flinging out to land on Thranduil's chest and stomach. His passage was constricting around Elrond, but he gritted his teeth, continuing to fuck, drawing everything from Thranduil that he could.
At last, it was over, and Elrond managed a last few mercifully mindless movements before he came too, feeling his lip curl so that he must be almost snarling. When he was done, he leaned over Thranduil again, slipping palms underneath him to hold him close as they relaxed together, hearts beating wildly.
The sunset was red now, shining onto the cliff as crimson as if in some kind of terrible premonition. In the afterglow of his orgasm, it made Elrond think of his vision of Thranduil lying dead just as Oropher had, and he suddenly shivered, feeling cold as the sweat on his body cooled.
“I cannot lose you!” he vowed suddenly, desperately, clutching at Thranduil as if he might fade with the last of the sun's light.
“Lose me?” Thranduil asked, bewildered. “Elrond,” he said, in a long-suffering way, one hand coming to rest on his hair, petting him fondly. “I tell you: it is for all time.”
When they had rested, the sun had moved below the horizon, and twilight was deepening quickly. They dressed and hurried back down into the cave, making it out of the wilderness and back into the outskirts of the city while elves were still lighting the lamps. They walked hand in hand, in comfortable silence.
“I will leave soon,” Thranduil said. “It grows colder, and Legolas and I must make the mountain pass ere we be trapped over the winter.”
Elrond nodded. The surprise Celebrían had planned was due at the end of the week, and he was certain Thranduil would want to leave almost immediately afterwards, perhaps even the next day. “I will miss you,” Elrond said, squeezing his hand.
“When the spring comes, follow me east. Come to the palace,” Thranduil suggested. For a moment Thranduil reminded Elrond of Oropher, in Lindon long ago. Then he had said: 'I will not.' But so many things had changed since then, himself among them.
“At the sight of the first snowdrop. Count on it,” Elrond vowed, smiling, and this time Thranduil squeezed his hand.
By the time they made it back to the house it was full dark, and the lights were welcoming them in. They hadn't been missed, and in fact they still had a few hours to be with each other before they were finally sought out and pulled in opposing directions. Thranduil, by Legolas; and Elrond, by Celebrían.

To be continued...

Author's Note: I hope you are enjoying it, and that the het content didn't put you off. Please leave a 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