Adult-FanFiction.org : Lord of the Rings

The Protege	By : alpham31 Category: +Third Age > AU - Alternate Universe Views: 3382 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Lord of the Rings or any of its characters. I make no money by writing this story

Chapter List
- 6
- 7
- 8
Imladris had never seen the likes of it. The spring festival had never been so … alive, so merry, so absolutely enthralling. The woodland elves had spun their merry tunes, their warrior chants, they had thrown knives, jumped over fires - their utter rejoicing of life and its renewal had entranced the valley, and yet they had held back. This was the first time they had performed for Imladris, and they did not want to show everything they were capable of, not yet, not until their Prince had achieved his diplomatic goals – they were not going to risk the potentially important commercial agreements that could be sealed for their people, their industry, and so they had showed Imladris a somewhat watered-down version of their Spring Festival activities.

Melven had also been impressed, although he would not have admitted to it, not yet, at least. A fine spectacle they were, dressed as they were, jigging and swirling to the exotic music their bards performed. The voices uplifting in tunes that sometimes were merry, sometimes solemn, sometimes soul-raising, followed by sad lays of warriors and lovers, long gone and sorely missed.

Elrond watched it all, enjoyed it all. Glorfindel, he noted, was there, at the very front of the on-goings, unlike him in every way. He tended to stay at the side lines during events such as these. And yet there he was, jigging along with the others, clapping and goading and … thoroughly enjoying himself, the whole while his eyes fixed on Legolas. He knew then, somehow, deep in his subconscious mind, he knew they would be more than friends, for Glorfindel, in all his years after returning, had never paid more than a night’s interest in anyone save himself and Erestor.

There were no bonding possibilities amongst them, nay, for he did not love them as soul mates would. Deep affection and lust of course, but love, nay, he had not captured that emotion in Glorfindel – until now. But how would he react if he was to invite the Prince to his quarters after the gala?

He decided that he would do it all the same, and if it went ill, then he would talk to his friend in the morning, for this night was for passion, love, and fantasy. Besides, Glorfindel was obviously playing down his attraction to the Prince, insisting that his only malady was lust.

Thus decided, he spared a glance to his left, where Legolas sat sipping at his cup, grinning as he watched his subjects submit to the wine and the forest beat, along with a few of the more adventurous citizens of Imladris.

“Legolas, I and some of the lords present, wish to invite you for a nightcap in my chambers, if that is acceptable to you.”

Legolas looked into Elrond’s eyes. They had changed from lordly calm to something entirely different, they were smouldering, almost. And what did a ‘nightcap’ mean anyway? Well, if he were any judge of innuendo, he would say he was being invited to an orgy. But ever aware of cultural differences, he did not wish to jump to conclusions and make an utter oaf of himself. He would bide his time, accept, and see for himself what it meant. He would think about what to do with Llyniel later, whom he had invited to his quarters.

“I would be honored, Elrond. Let me know when the time is ripe and I shall follow.”

Elrond beamed at this. He was unsure as to whether the prince had understood the nature of his invitation, but he would bide his time, for he did not wish to inadvertently offend, what a bothersome thing politics was.

Legolas began to wonder what ‘some of the lords present’ actually meant. In the Greenwood, a ‘nightcap’ was generally understood as an invitation to one’s bed, But was it the same here, in Imladris? He knew not, but oh, how he wished it was. To take pleasure on this special eve, with the most spectacular of elves, giving and receiving – Glorfindel, Elrond, and Erestor perhaps. His mind was racing not far behind his genitals, he knew. But it had been nigh on two months since he had last reveled in such carnal pleasures, and he was more than ready to indulge himself, utterly.

Elrond sat back, satisfied that he had laid the first stone, and that indeed the forest lord would grace his chambers at his behest, aware or not of what he and his friends had in store for him. Now, he would speak to those that we would invite for the ‘nightcap’.

Meanwhile, Glorfindel had returned to the table from the ‘front line’, for a well-earned glass of red and a rest. Still beaming at the fun he had had for the first time in an entire age, he turned to his second life-long friend.

“What?”

“Well - you are beaming, my friend.” said Elrond, a sly but contagiously happy expression on his wise features.

“Beaming am I? you exaggerate!”

“Nay, I do not. You are happy my friend, and glad I am of it. Now heed me, if you will. I have invited Legolas for a nightcap.”

Glorfindel gaped at his friend. “A nightcap? How did he take it? I mean, was he amenable to it?”

“Well, yes. But remember, it may not have been understood in the way it was meant if you follow, Findel. He may simply have understood that we will share a brandy and an exchange of impressions.”

“Um, perhaps. But he accepted?”

“Yes, he did. I also said that I and some of the lords would invite him. He knows that it will not just be me present.”

Glorfindel’s mind was racing. If Legolas had truly understood the meaning of ‘nightcap’, and knew that some of the lords would be present, he was basically acquiescing to an orgy. And how did he feel about that? ‘Good, better than good, happy? Nay, that was nowhere near what he was feeling. It would be the best session he and his erstwhile lovers had ever had, of that he was sure. To contemplate him in the throws of passion, to see others take their pleasure in his exquisite form, feel him, touch him, dominate him, spill over him… it was too much – he could not continue, for he himself would spill something that was not wine, right there at the high table.

Glancing at Erestor, he found him exchanging pleasantries with Maeron, the healer. However he must have sensed Elrond’s attention, for he immediately turned his head in his direction, an inquisitive look on his dark, exotic features. Elrond simply nodded in his direction.

‘A nightcap’, he thought. ‘Oh yes, yes!!!’ Had Elrond had the dexterity of including the forest lord? Sweet Valar, if he had, it would be the most memorable session they had ever had.
Legolas, meanwhile, had managed to extricate himself from his many would-be dance partners and companions. He wished for a quiet moment and a refreshing glass of wine. Gliding back to the high table, he sat beside Elrond and served himself, as he watched Glorfindel chatting amiably with Celeborn and Galadriel. She had momentarily glanced in Legolas’ direction and gave him a slight nod, a charismatic half smile upon her lips.

Elrond stood then, as did Glorfindel. Addressing the elves at his table he proceeded to extricate himself and his companions from the festivity.

“My Lords, ladies. Please continue to enjoy the festivities for as long as you desire. Tomorrow will bring many novelties to Imladris – after a late breakfast, of course! I shall see you all then!”

The hall chuckled at the comment, and were glad of it, for the wine was flowing freely and spirits were still high.

And with that he turned towards the staircase, catching Legolas’ eyes. Glorfindel followed his lord, as protocol dictated, only of course he would not be returning to the revelries.

After five minutes, Legolas excused himself to his two guardian friends, telling them that they were free for the rest of the evening, and to enjoy themselves thoroughly, and he knew they would. Galdithion merely nodded, a sneaky smile on his fair features.

“Enjoy the nightcap, my lord.”

Legolas smiled back, nodding, and promptly left the hall of fire, bound for the Lord of Imladris’ chambers.

.................................................

“Ah, Legolas, come in – please”

“Thank you my Lord”

“Take a seat – wine?”

“Yes, thank you.”

The prince sat on a wide sofa, opposite the roaring fire of Elrond’s spacious chambers, accepting the goblet of wine the lord passed him. Nodding his head in thanks, he turned his beautiful face to the bright flames, their reflection dancing in his expressive eyes.

“So, my prince. Did you enjoy the festivities this eve?”

“I did, my lord. Good food - mushroom delights, no less! Imladris offers fine entertainment indeed.”

Elrond listened to the prince’s comments as his eyes rolled over the most exquisitely made elf he had ever beheld. Still in his formal attire, a mithril and emerald crown upon his fair head, silken locks of waist length hair weaved in among the twining swirls of the leaf pattern, intricately braided in that style he could not place.

Styles and fashions were radically different between Imladris and Greenwood, as Erestor had previously warned him. While the Sylvans were given to wearing generally less clothing, what clothing they did wear was often of silken or gauzy linens, except of course their warrior attire, which was quite the opposite. The Sindarins had partially adopted their Sylvan brothers’ fashions, but had added to it the use of jewellery of every shape and form. Their love for piercing was also adopted and often took on symbolic meanings, which then had to be explained for their non- Sylvan or Sindarin kin. Legolas had obviously adopted both legacies, for while his clothing was essentially Sylvan, his accessories betrayed his half-Sindarin origin.

And there sat Legolas, knee-high boots hugging bulging calves and quadriceps. His upper tunic, if one could call it that, had only one sleeve, showing the entirety of his right arm, in pure Sylvan fashion. High upon his bicep, sat an exquisite mithril arm band - there was clearly a design to the swirls, but said design suggested nothing to him – perhaps he would ask later. He knew it was something symbolic. Moving his gaze down the arm towards the forearm, another band sat there, wider, almost in the fashion of an archer’s vambrace, even his index finger was bejewelled.

“This is fine wine, Elrond, one you did not serve at the feast.”

“Nay, indeed, this is a vintage, reserved for my special guests.”

“Then I am honoured, lord.”

As he waited for his fellow lords to join them, Elrond’s casual perusal of the woodland prince’s form continued. Up the muscled arm to the neck and further up to his right ear lobe, where he found a small golden stud piercing it. Next to this was another pierced object, a simple flattened curve of mithril which rose up to almost the tip of a perfectly pointed ear.

Moving down the prince’s torso, he tried to capture something of what lay between his slightly opened thighs, but much to his chagrin, that area lay covered by the trails of the prince’s two long skirts, slit to the thighs though they were.

The prince was relatively tall, matching his own height, but he was of heavier build than most, slender yes, but very well muscled, as he had seen the previous night. This elf was a swordmaster for sure, but he was also an archer, the configuration of his shoulder and forearm muscles told him as much. Glorfindel would appreciate this body with relish, and he would relish watching him doing so...

Elrond was snapped out of his appreciation as the door was pushed open, revealing two others. Both Elrond and Legolas stood to greet the newcomers.

Legolas could not help feeling ecstatic that he was getting the chance to enjoy the company of these three elves’ company on this special night, he would not have chosen any differently.

As Elrond invited Glorfindel and Erestor to share their vintage wine, all took seats before the fire to enjoy a first sip of the exquisite liquid.

“Did you enjoy the festivities, Prince?” enquired Glorfindel.

“I was just commenting on it with Elrond. The music and dance was wonderful, although so different from our native woodland culture. I hope our own renditions were equally entertaining for your folk.”

“Indeed, I for one enjoyed it immensely. So different from our music, alien in fact, yet of much beauty and so skilfully played. I am sure Lindir will learn much from the festival with Amanthor as his tutor,” commented Erestor.

“So, Legolas,” began Glorfindel. “What do our woodland lords do as entertainment, after a formal feast?”

Legolas turned to his friend, more than understanding the undertone. He was no innocent after all. The others looked towards him with anticipation.

“Well, Glorfindel, that would depend on the circumstances, and of course … the company. Is this different to your customs Elrond?”

“Indeed not, he replied. There are many forms of entertainment that we enjoy. Some we have already seen, and some we may yet experience. There is good food, wine, song, dance, … and bodily pleasure.”

Legolas held his gaze for a moment, glad of the forthright manner in which Elrond broke the tension in the room.

“Ah, yes. Bodily pleasure. And yet there are so many ways to achieve it, are there not?” replied Legolas. If Elrond was forthright, Legolas was nothing if not bold.

A soft chuckle escaped the lips of Erestor.

“Indeed there are. Some males prefer females, others those of their own sex. And then within same sex coupling, there is a whole host of preferences, fantasies, fetishes …”

Some soft intakes of breath were heard, although Legolas held his composure well, noted Glorfindel.

It was Glorfindel who spoke next. “I am completely convinced that gender is but a secondary issue, beauty is to be found in both males and females, wouldn’t you agree, Prince?

“Indeed I do.”

“As do I”, added Elrond, but ever have I achieved my greatest pleasure with males.”

Taking a long sip from his goblet, he sensed all eyes fixed onto him.

“I invited Llyniel to my quarters after the festivities, and I would like her to join us, if that is amenable to you all...?”

“I for one would be delighted, Legolas, what say you Elrond, Erestor?” asked Glorfindel.

At identical nods of agreement, Legolas smiled, he felt sure the lusty Llyniel would be more than willing to lie with these great lords.

“Then you must excuse me for a few moments, my lords, for in the Greenwood there is some protocol to satisfy before Carnal Delight. If you will excuse me?”

“Of course Legolas, we eagerly await your return”.

Exiting the room, Legolas went to find Llyniel, who indeed was overjoyed and somewhat inhibited, but she would not let this opportunity escape her. They agreed to meet in Legolas’ rooms in 15 minutes.

Once in his own quarters, he extricated himself from the crown and stripped himself entirely, refreshing himself in cold water. Drying himself, he perfumed his body, and chose a long green silk skirt which reached down to his ankles, sitting low on the hips and split up the sides to almost the waist. He wore simple leather sandles, and attached a decorative band to the left foot. He walked over to the dresser then, picking up a brush, he began to comb through is extraordinarily long hair, leaving it completely loose.

This left only his most intimate piercing to see to. Opening his skirts, he inserted the mithril bead through the head of his penis.

Walking over to the side table, he took out a small flask of Miruvor and took as swig from it, that would boost his natural stamina and keep him going for a good while.

Just then, Llyniel entered his quarters, looking stunning in her purple gauze dress that revealed almost everything, and yet nothing at all. She looked beautiful, if not a little anxious. Legolas smiled reassuringly at her, and offered her his glass, which she accepted, gulping down the contents in one generous swig as she eyed the prince hungrily.

They were ready
...................................................

As they approached the door, Llyniel took Legolas’ arm and pulled him back.

“What if I do something wrong, my Lord? Tis not my first time in Carnal Delight, but these are high lords, I do not wish to leave the Greenwood in bad regard”.

The prince smiled at her reassuringly. “You will not disappoint, sweet Llyn. Go with the tide and all will be well, enjoy the moment!”

She smiled, then nodded, stepping forward with the prince as he knocked on the door.

Glorfindel opened it and promptly stepped back, wide-eyed. Knowing better than to try and utter a word, he ushered them over to the fire and his companions, however, instead of taking seats on the sofas or plush armchairs, they knelt down on the floor.

Once there, Legolas introduced Llyniel and both received a goblet from Erestor, who had poured a generous amount of apple liquor into them.

“It is said to prolong the stamina, draw out the pleasure, so to speak”, explained Erestor, taking sip from his own cup.

Llyniel smiled then, “my Lord does not need it, he will still be active at dawn, I assure you!” She blushed a little then, unsure as to whether she should have said that, looking to Legolas for reassurance, which he gave with a smile, as he promptly gulped down the entire contents of this glass.

There were a few chuckles, which turned into soft gasps as Legolas leaned over and softly kissed Llyniel. She deepened the kiss, holding to his arms for balance.

It was always the case with Carnal Delight, that with first-time partners, one had to find the way of breaking the ice, and Legolas favoured this tactic – he would perform with Llyn, he would take her – his companions would either watch and then continue when he had finished, or they would join in – he did not know them well enough to take a guess.

He held out his hands then in a gesture for her to go to him which she did, turning her back to his chest.

He wrapped his arms around her, kissing her neck and adjusting his own kneeling posture so that he fit snugly to Llyniel’s backside, his bare muscled thighs on either side of her. He pushed the fabric of her gauzy dress down her shoulders, until it pooled at her waist, revealing her ample breasts to the three lords, who looked on avidly as the show continued.

Moving his ringed hands over her more avidly now, they kissed and bit, caressed and kneaded, until Legolas eased her down to the floor and half covered her, letting his hands roam further down her, to the very tips of her feet. Llyniel was alight, her hands avidly raking across his chest, his back, over his skirted backside, down his thighs – she wanted him so badly and told him so in but one simple expression on her face. Legolas caught it and was more than ready to oblige her, as he pushed his skirt to the side and penetrated her in one swift thrust. She gasped then, but was not the only one, for the three lords were at the brink, yet they could not see what they wanted to, as the green skirt was covering most of his lower body, save for his impressive legs. Legolas closed his eyes then, enjoying that first moment of bliss and the knowledge that he was being watched and coveted.

Setting a slow pace at first, he glided in and out of her, pushing himself in to the hilt and then back out, giving her extra pleasure from his piercing at the very tip of his cock. Before long, she could take no more, as Legolas set a strong hard rhythm, not taking his eyes from her the entire time. She finally cried out her bliss as Legolas let himself go and came inside her for long moments.

He rolled off her then, onto his back, closing his eyes for a moment to compose himself, but when he opened them again, he found Elrond and Glorfindel sitting at either side of him, with Erestor kneeling at his feet. Glorfindel cupped his cheek and turned the prince’s head towards him, but startled momentarily as he realized that Legolas’ eyes had deepened to a dark amethyst color, the effect was nothing short of breath-taking – he smiled then as he moved in to kiss Legolas for the first time, which he did with such utter tenderness and complete ecstasy.

Elrond watched on as Glorfindel kissed this astonishing woodland warrior with amethyst eyes. He turned then to Erestor who had crept forward, taking the moss green cloth of the prince’s skirt and laying it to the side, uncovering the prize beneath. He gasped then, although Elrond knew not why, until he leaned forward and espied the mithril bead that has given Llyniel such pleasure.

Oh yes, this was going to be a very memorable night....
- 6
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The Protege