e d u c a t i n g . l e g o l a s

Educating Legolas
[by victoria p.]

Rating: NC-17

Summary: Legolas prepares for his ultimate destiny, with help from Éowyn.

Notes: Thanks to Jen, Pete & M'Rae, Dot, and Meg, who disavow all knowledge of this story. Thanks to DD for the super-quick beta.

If you're a Tolkien purist or you've lost your sense of humor, I suggest you skip this one. All anachronisms, bad puns and other assorted offenses against good taste are entirely intentional.

Date: March 10, 2003

Éowyn Eomund's-daughter, former shieldmaiden of Rohan, current fiancée of Faramir, Steward of Gondor and Prince of Ithilien, smiled as Arwen Undómiel, bride-to-be of King Elessar, formerly known as Aragorn (formerly known as Estel, Thorongil, Strider, and Longshanks) entered her chamber.

Éowyn had only recently been let out of the Houses of Healing, and she was deep in the midst of planning her wedding to Faramir, which would take place shortly after King Elessar's coronation.

"Hail, Arwen Evenstar, soon to be Queen of Gondor and Arnor," Éowyn said, rising.

"Hail, Éowyn Eomund's-daughter, soon to be Stewardess of Gondor--"

"I really prefer Flight Attendant," Éowyn confided.

Arwen looked blank for a moment, then, "Oh, of course." She curled up on the couch and said, "Now that the formalities are out of the way, I have a favor to ask you."

Éowyn was immediately on guard. The last favor she'd done for Arwen had involved helping dress two drunk Halflings in women's clothing. She'd had to donate her second favorite gown "to the cause, to rally the troops," Arwen had said. The hobbits then performed at the barracks of the combined armies of Rohan and Gondor, and Éowyn's second favorite dress had not survived.

"A favor?"

"Yes. It's rather delicate."

Éowyn raised an eyebrow. "I take it Merry and Pippin aren't involved, then."

Arwen grimaced. "No, thank Elbereth. I don't think I could handle them playing another round of 'hide the sausage' with Aragorn." She shuddered elegantly. "No, this concerns our dear friend Legolas Greenleaf, son of Thranduil--"

"I know who he is," Éowyn interrupted. "I think we can skip the list of his titles." Arwen inclined her head. "So, is something wrong? He seemed happy the last time I saw him. Well, except for the whole 'longing for the Sea' thing. But I thought Gimli was taking it all in stride."

"That's just it, you see. Galadriel has had another vision."

Éowyn felt the cold fingers of fear clutch her heart.

"I thought her Ladyship's days of visions were over."

"So did she, so did we all," Arwen said. "Nonetheless, she has had a vision about Legolas, and it concerns us all."

Arwen paused, but Éowyn waited her out. The Elves were all such drama queens, she thought. Operative word being 'queens.'

"Legolas is going to meet with a creature called Márissúë, and to her he will give his heart."

"I thought he and Gimli-- wait a minute. Her? Did you say, 'her'?"

Arwen nodded, and she smiled like a cat who's been in the cream. "Indeed. That's what makes it so delicious. Ahem. I mean, what makes your involvement so urgent."

"My involvement?" Éowyn was still wary. She knew Arwen had never quite forgiven her for her crush on Aragorn, and even being happily engaged to her dear Faramir hadn't cleared the Elf maiden's mind of suspicion.

"Indeed," Arwen said again, and Éowyn wondered what the penalty was for wiping that smug smile off her future queen's face. Arwen raised her voice slightly and said, "Aragorn, Faramir, Gimli, please join us."

The two Men and the dwarf entered the room, followed by Éomer, who hadn't been invited, but couldn't be gotten rid of. He'd been following Faramir around for days, ensuring his suitability as a husband for Éowyn. What with all those rumors about Boromir, one could never be sure, and after all, Éomer had squired for Boromir and...

At that point, Éomer always trailed off, leaving Éowyn to imagine very naughty things indeed.

"Have you agreed then?" Aragorn asked.

Arwen nodded but Éowyn said, "Agreed? I still don't know what I'm being asked to do."

Aragorn raised an eyebrow at his beloved, who shrugged one elegant shoulder. "I thought I'd made it clear, but if you must have it laid out in blunt terms--" she paused and it was evident from her demeanor that she thought Éowyn was uncouth for pressing her on the matter. "Legolas has never been with a woman before, and he needs to be educated before he meets his destiny."

Éowyn stared at Arwen in shock. None of the men, nor Gimli, would meet her eyes.

"And this is all right with you, Faramir?" she finally said.

Her betrothed shoved his hands in his pockets and continued to look at a spot somewhere over her right shoulder. "Yes, darling."

"But--"

"I'll be there the whole time," he continued. "Watching."

She opened and closed her mouth. "I see." All of the men winced at her icy tone. "And Gimli, how feel you about this? Or do you plan on watching, too?"

"Nay, lass. I'll be having an audience with the Lady Galadriel, fairest of all Ladies in Middle-Earth."

Éowyn's eyes narrowed. "Really?" She shot a look at Arwen. "And why have you not remedied this matter, Lady Arwen? Surely a woman of Elf-kind would be more suited for such a task--"

"Believe me, I wanted her to--" Aragorn began, but at a sharp look from Arwen he backtracked, "I mean, I wished to help my dear friend, but it would be unseemly for the Queen to be involved in such a thing."

Gimli leaned over and whispered, "He wanted to play too, but Arwen said no. She's still jealous about that fling they had back in Rivendell."

"And you're okay with this?" she asked him.

"I know that no man alive could take Legolas' love from me, but I'll not begrudge him the opportunity to ... broaden his horizons."

"Your king needs you, Éowyn," Aragorn said, taking her hand and going down on one knee before her, ignoring Arwen's daggered glance.

Éowyn thought of Legolas -- his beautiful face, strong hands, hard body -- and when Faramir nodded, she sighed. "As you will, my lord Aragorn. As you will."

***

The appointed hour drew near, and Éowyn relaxed in her bath. She still couldn't believe that they had chosen her for this duty. It wasn't that she didn't find Legolas attractive. She thought that perhaps one had to be dead not to be attracted to him, but the whole thing was so... sordid. And she still wasn't certain that Arwen wasn't playing some elaborate practical joke on her, the result of which would leave her humiliated in front of everyone.

Éowyn could deal with Nazgul kings and advice-needing Elves, but she could not stand being humiliated.

She had finally calmed her mind and was drifting peacefully in the bath as the water cooled, when she heard a noise.

She rose out of the bath like a shot, reaching for the sword she always kept nearby.

She whirled and faced...

Galadriel and Legolas.

"Oh," she said, lowering the sword in confusion and using her other hand to cover herself, or as much of herself as she could. She crossed her sword-arm over her breasts, blushing furiously.

Galadriel stared at her with curiosity, while Legolas averted his eyes.

"The hour is at hand," Galadriel intoned ominously.

"Obviously this is a bad time for Éowyn," Legolas said. "We can come back."

"Do not be afraid to meet your destiny, Legolas, son of Thranduil," Galadriel said, causing Legolas to raise an eyebrow.

"I fear nothing on this earth or under it, Lady, but we are being rude to the Lady Éowyn, who has never shown aught but kindness to us."

While this discussion was going on, Éowyn edged toward the wall on which her dressing gown hung.

"And she will be showing you more kindness yet, Legolas," Galadriel said. "I think I must not have been clear when we spoke."

Éowyn suppressed a snort. The Lady of Lorien had never been clear when she spoke -- she talked in riddles and vague prophecies that made her look brilliant when she was right and were easily forgotten when she was wrong.

"You said a lot about destiny, Lady," Legolas replied, "and I have found mine. You warned me of the Sea and I was heedless, and now I suffer. What more needs saying?"

"This is a *new* destiny, Legolas. One which will consume you, and you are not prepared--" Galadriel began, and Éowyn sighed.

"Would you mind having this conversation elsewhere?" she interrupted, holding her robe in front of her.

Legolas turned to walk away, acceding to her wishes, but Galadriel laid a hand on his arm.

"Legolas, Gimli is not your destiny, though you may yet be reunited after many long years."

Legolas stopped and turned back. "What, then? Am I to go over the Sea and long for Middle-earth? It's better that I stay as long as I can, and at least I will then have the memories of love to savor for the rest of my unnumbered years."

"You misunderstand," Galadriel replied. "You will soon meet a woman -- the signs are not clear, but I believe she is of Elf-kind. Her name is Márissúë, and you will fall completely in love with her."

Legolas looked blank. "What?"

"And Éowyn has agreed to... tutor you in the ways of men and women."

Éowyn felt herself blush again, but she threw back her shoulders and held her head high. She thought her breasts looked particularly perky, even if the way she was holding the bathrobe obscured them from his sight.

"If it pleases you, of course," she said. "My lord Faramir has given his approval, and so has Gimli Glóin's son."

"Gimli," Galadriel said, opening her eyes wide and scaring the hell out of Éowyn. "Ah, I am late. He is to have an audience with me very shortly. I will leave you two to deal together, or not." She floated past Legolas and then turned back at the doorway. "Strange are the ways of Eru Iluvatar, and we should not presume to guess what he has in store for us, Legolas, son of Thranduil." And she swept out, leaving Éowyn alone with the Elf Prince of Mirkwood.

"Tutor me?" Legolas asked, brow furrowed. "In what way are you to tutor me, Lady Éowyn? I've been alive longer than your kingdom has stood. I have traveled from one end of Middle-earth to the other, both on land and under it. I--"

There was only one way to shut him up, so Éowyn reached out, grabbed his tunic, and pulled him close. She pressed her lips to his. They were warm and soft and tasted of apples.

She broke the kiss, and he looked down at her, surprised.

"Oh," he said, and then he bent and kissed her. She opened her mouth beneath his and he slid his tongue along hers, sending sparks of heat through her.

It was her turn to say, "Oh," when his lips left hers and he began pressing kisses to her jaw.

It is said that there is no skill the Elves cannot master if it is shown them once, and Éowyn believed it after the masterful way Legolas walked her into the bedroom, never releasing her from the loose embrace of his arms, tethering her to him with the lightest of kisses dropped along the sensitive flesh of her neck.

She clung to him, weak with desire, as he laid her on the bed.

His hands, meanwhile, had begun roving over her body, the callused tips of his fingers catching on her smooth skin, sending frissons of heat through her, centering low in her belly.

With hands and then lips, he traced a path of fire over the curve of her breast, finally sucking the taut nipple into his mouth. She arched her back, anchored her hands in his hair; it felt like silk against her fingers.

He raised his head and smiled; she whimpered at the loss of his warmth. He lavished attention on her other breast, then oh-so-slowly began to kiss his way down her body, stopping to swirl his tongue in her bellybutton, and nip lightly at the curve of her hip. Lips like a warm breeze caressed her thighs, and she laughed aloud when he pressed his mouth to the back of her left knee.

The tension built inside her as he briefly sucked each of her toes into his mouth. She thought the sweet torture would go on forever as he began working his way back up her right leg, easing her thighs apart. Then, he placed a kiss on her mound.

She gasped and quivered, never having even thought of kisses in such a place, and he murmured words she didn't understand, his voice both soothing and arousing in some strange combination.

His fingers stroked at the wet folds of her sex, and then his mouth found the small nub that was the center of her pleasure. He licked and sucked at her, sending bursts of fire through her body. He worked at a leisurely pace, ignoring her pleas for release. She whimpered, making mewling sounds low in her throat to encourage him.

Éowyn stretched her arms above her head, clutched at the headboard as her body tensed, drawn tight as a bowstring, and trembling with desperate need for release. Legolas brought her almost to the breaking point before easing off, leaving her panting and begging for more. Finally, when she was writhing on the sheets, her body humming with anticipation, he sent her into bliss with the skillful swirl of his tongue.

Her hips bucked up against him and a low, guttural cry tore from her throat as wave after wave of ecstasy swelled and crashed through her.

Just when she thought it was over, the shudders of pleasure moving through her slowed almost to stopping, he brought her to another peak, and this time the bliss vibrating through her was deeper and of even longer duration.

He rested his fair head on her belly as she came down. She pushed the heavy, sweaty hair off her brow and managed to breathe his name, imbuing it with surprised satisfaction. "Legolas."

He smiled, which sent another arrow of desire through her, startling her. He moved to lie beside her, and twined his fingers with hers.

"Long has it been since I pleased a woman so. A thousand years and more perhaps."

She blinked. "They told me --"

"That I was untutored in the ways of men with women," he finished, and laughed. "Yes. I have spent the better part of this age coupled with men, or, more recently, a Dwarf. But there was a time, in my youth..." He trailed off and kissed her deeply; she could taste herself on his tongue, earthy and pungent, in addition to his own sweet flavor.

"You are wearing too many clothes," she said when he broke the kiss. Her hands sought the hem of his tunic and drew it over his head. She tossed it to the floor and spent a moment admiring the fine muscles of his chest, golden fair and hairless. She touched him and smiled when she felt his body respond. He lay back and she leaned over him, grazing his hard nipples with her thumbs.

Seeing approval in his eyes, she returned the kisses and caresses he'd earlier bestowed on her. She swirled her tongue around the whorls of his ear, fascinated by the shape of it, before taking his earlobe gently between her teeth. She laved away the sting and then slid her lips along his silken skin, pausing to nibble at the fluttering pulse at the base of his throat and nipping a little harder at his clavicle.

He wound his hands through her hair and enjoyed her caresses, urging her on with murmurs of, "Yes," or soft cries of, "Éowyn!"

She learned he was slightly ticklish along his ribs and enjoyed making him squirm with light touches of lips and fingers, before she slid her mouth down the center of his chest, stopping at the top of his breeches.

He brushed his thumb over the curve of her cheek.

"If you wish to stop--" he said.

"No!" she replied. She was having far too fine a time to stop. She wanted to see if she could render this elegant, self-controlled creature speechless and gasping in pleasure, as he had done to her. She deftly untied his breeches and, with his help, slid them down over his slim hips. He kicked them away gracefully as Éowyn eyed him with interest. She'd wondered -- she imagined most women did -- if there was any difference between Men and Elves in this area. Now she saw there wasn't.

"Is everything to your liking?" he asked, his lips curving in a wicked grin.

"Quite," she said, reaching out to touch his hard cock. She stroked him gently, until his hand curled over hers and increased the pressure.

She bent and placed a kiss on the head. His breathing became ragged, and his eyes closed. She took him in her mouth, drawing her teeth lightly along the sensitive underside. She wrapped her tongue around him, enjoying the way he quivered beneath her lips.

"Ai! Ai!" His hands threaded through her hair and lifted her head.

"Is something wrong?" Had she offended him?

"No, no," he answered quickly. His voice dropped to a whisper. "I wish to find release inside you."

Her body responded to his words with a rush of heat between her legs, and his nostrils flared. She'd forgotten about his Elvish senses.

There was something incredibly arousing about how attuned he was to her body.

"Oh. Oh my." She allowed him to draw her up for another kiss; he rolled them over and positioned himself between her legs. He brushed the head of his cock, slick with fluid, against her wet entrance, and she gasped. He twined his fingers with hers and stretched her arms above her head. Slowly he pushed his way into her, until he was fully sheathed. It was a languid, pleasurable torture. Her bones felt like water, her blood, fire.

He paused, and she thrust her hips up, craving the velvet slide of his flesh against hers. He stilled her with a kiss. "Patience," he murmured. "Wrap your legs around me."

She did as he said, enjoying the feel of his taut solidity cradled within her thighs. He began to move then, slowly pulling out before sliding back in, inch by glorious inch.

"You're teasing me," she said, swallowing hard at the sensations washing through her.

"But it is a sweet torture, is it not?" he replied, dropping kisses along her cheekbones. "Sweet, and hot, and a gift to be savored, Éowyn." He slipped his hand from hers to brush the hair off her face. "We shall not have another night like this; we ought to make it last."

She couldn't form a coherent sentence to respond and it didn't matter anyway, he was kissing her again, his tongue thrusting into her mouth the way his cock pushed into her body. He increased his pace and she ran her free hand down his back, urging him to go even faster.

The tension was building within her again, and she wanted so badly to bring him the same pleasure. She clenched her inner muscles, pulling him in deeper. He growled against her ear, and she did it again. She rubbed her breasts against the hard wall of his chest, enjoying the feel of him surrounding her inside and out.

She absorbed a jumble of sensation -- the satiny texture of his skin over the supple, corded muscles of his legs, the way his golden hair fell around them like silken sunlight, a curtain shutting out the rest of the world, brushing her with feather-light touches that made her shiver in delight.

He drove into her, and she met him with fierce thrusts of her own. She was close, so close... She could feel it in the way they bucked wildly against each other, all semblance of rhythm lost as they both reached for the bliss that drew ever nearer. She took his lips in a fierce kiss, their tongues tangling in frantic mimicry of their bodies' motion.

He slipped a hand between them, and with a quick touch of his fingers against her, the world exploded into a shower of stars. Her body was awash in pleasure that felt as though it would never stop rippling through her. She convulsed around him, and with another thrust he came as well, spilling himself deep inside her, and crying out in Elvish before collapsing upon her.

They lay in a spent and sticky heap, his head buried in the crook of her neck, his lips tracing sweet nothings against her skin in a language she couldn't understand. He moved so his weight would not be on her, and gathered her in his arms before they both drifted off into a contented doze.

She woke from her light slumber some minutes later at the feel of him once again growing hard against her. This time, she took the initiative, rolling them over so she was on top. She laughed with joy to have so beautiful a creature beneath her. He pulled her down for a kiss, and then his hands settled at her hips, guiding her as she rode him to yet another stunning climax, quick this time, but still flooding her with pleasure.

He rose from the bed then, and she cried out in protest. "Where are you going?"

"Just to the basin, Lady," he replied, smiling. "We both need cleaning up."

Her eyes widened and a thought no one had mentioned made itself known to her. "Legolas, what if I become pregnant?"

He returned to the bed and set the basin on the night table. He began washing her with a warm, damp cloth. "You will not. It is not my wish that you bear my child, so there will be no quickening from our union."

"Really?"

"Really. It is a gift of the Elves to choose the time and manner of procreation, rather than leave it up to chance."

When he had done washing them both, they settled comfortably under the covers, Éowyn sitting between Legolas' outstretched legs as he braided her hair.

"You will be called Elf-friend," he said, "and the light of my people shall shine on you and your husband, even in the days of our waning."

She smiled. "Thank you, Legolas. Though I was uncertain of this duty when the Lady Arwen approached me, I am glad that I was chosen and that thus I have fulfilled it. A most pleasurable duty, indeed, though quite an unnecessary one."

He laughed at that. "I am glad, then, that you were chosen, even if there was no need. Though I would prefer that remain our secret." She nodded and brushed her fingertips across his cheek. He stopped laughing and took her chin gently to turn her face toward him. "Faramir gave his consent, yes? I would not wish to be the cause of a falling out between two so in love as you."

She nodded. "Aye, consent he did, and Gimli as well."

"Good, good. I wonder if Gimli has had as pleasurable a time with Galadriel as we have had together."

"Surely you jest?"

"Nay. Galadriel has ever been jealous of my lovers. Why, when Nimrodel and Amroth-- but I shall spare you my reminiscences. Suffice it to say that Galadriel never has but one target in mind when she aims her words. I'm sure she knows of Gimli's feelings toward her."

"And his toward you?"

"Ah, that is a different story. Gimli and I shall spend many long years together. I do not doubt it, though my thoughts turn ever to the West. We shall be happy in Ithilien for as long as the Valar allow."

He finished the braiding then and was admiring his work when Faramir burst into the room.

"Éowyn! Legolas!" he said, all out of breath.

"My lord," Éowyn replied. Legolas inclined his head slightly.

"Is it over then? Did I miss it?" Faramir asked.

Legolas raised his eyebrows in question. "Miss it?"

"Aye. The ... tutoring you were to receive from my Lady Éowyn."

"Oh. Yes. We're finished," Legolas said. "I have learned much this day."

"And I," Éowyn murmured.

"Damn. Arwen just did not stop talking," Faramir said, disappointment plain on his face. Éowyn snickered, but Legolas kept his expression blank.

"I must be going," the Elf said. "I'm sure Galadriel is done with Gimli now." He rose from the bed and slipped into his clothes gracefully, not at all embarrassed at being naked.

Éowyn admired his fine form one last time but felt not a pang of regret as he left. He dropped a kiss on her forehead and said, "Thank you, Éowyn. Remember, the grace of the Valar will be with you."

He clapped Faramir on the shoulder and said, "You are indeed a lucky man." He then departed.

Éowyn rose from the bed as well and drew on her robe. "Come, my lord Faramir," she said, linking her arm through his, "I would walk in the gardens with you and hear of your day."

"Would you, Éowyn? Have you no second thoughts about me, now that you have lain with an Elf?"

"Never, my lord," she said, resting her head on his shoulder. "That was but a pleasurable duty. You I love and wish to spend my life with."

He let out a breath in relief. "Excellent." He kissed the top of her head. "I'm not sorry I missed it, after all. I don't think I could have borne seeing you with another."

"Well, you could have joined in." The words slipped out before she could stop them. He stopped and turned to face her, and she burst into laughter.

"You are a saucy wench, my lady."

"And you like me that way."

"Aye."

And so Éowyn and Faramir allowed no discord or jealousy to mar their happiness. After their wedding she taught him some of the tricks Legolas had shown her, though she always made sure he thought it was his idea.

Gimli, son of Glóin and Legolas, son of Thranduil, spent many happy years together in Ithilien before sailing over the Sea to the Undying Lands. The Lady Márissúë turned out to have a yen for Halflings, and spent all her days chasing Sam, despite his devotion to his Rosie, until his only escape was to sail West to join the other Ringbearers in Valinor.

end

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