A Lover's Education

Posted: December 2003
Title: A Lover's Education
Author: Larien Elengasse
Type: FCS, M/M Slash
Characters: Thranduil/Don Juan, Thranduil/???
Rating: NC-17
Beta: Khylaren
WARNING: This story is rated NC-17 and contains male slash pairings and explicit sexual content. If you find this offensive, or you are under-age, I strongly suggest you stop now.
Disclaimer: I do not own these characters, they are the property of Tolkien and Lord Byron, and I am sure they would both be horrified if they read this…

Summary/Notes: AU (obviously). Thranduil leaves Valinor and travels back to the world of men for one day. There he meets the world's greatest lover, Don Juan. Can he convince the notorious lover of women to broaden his horizons?

~*~

Eighteenth Century, Valinor

Thranduil Oropherion sat upon a rock, gazing eastward at the rising sun. He smiled as its light warmed his face and he leaned back upon his hands, feeling the soft breeze caress his skin, the scent of salt and clean air wafting into his nostrils.

"Adar?"

He blinked and smiled, turning to face his beloved son. "Yes, Legolas?"

Legolas furrowed his brow, even as a smile lit his radiant face. "You are leaving again…"

Thranduil held out his hand, beckoning his son to sit beside him. He placed his arm around Legolas as they gazed out over the ocean together. "Just for a day. Would you care to join me, Iôn?"

Legolas laughed softly and leaned his head upon his father's shoulder. "What is it about the world of men that fascinates you so? I have spent many years among them and have met few that interest me as they do you. Will you never tire of wandering? What is it that you still seek?"

Thranduil chuckled and patted his son on the shoulder. "Valinor is beautiful, and I have found peace here at long last. But one cannot go from a life of excitement to a life of serenity so suddenly. There are no battles to be fought here; I am a King without a realm. In this world, the flame of passion burns low and steady, not bright and hot as it did when we thought our days would be numbered. I sometimes yearn for that heat, Legolas, for that fire that ignites one's very fëa." He shifted and turned to look at his son, trailing his fingers down one long braid. "I will only be gone a day, just long enough to remind myself that I can still burn so hot, to remind myself that I am truly alive."

Legolas nodded. He understood how difficult it was for his father, one who had lived over an age with danger as an everyday part of his life, to now live in a world where none existed. He, himself, had a difficult time at first, having traveled from a world marred with violence and war, to a world filled with peace and serenity. "One cannot burn so hot always, Adar. A fire cannot rage without end."

Thranduil nodded and kissed his son on the forehead. "In that you are correct, Greenleaf. But a smoldering fire can be stoked to full flame again. I only seek that brief moment, when the fire inside me can be brought to life once again, even if only for a single night."

Legolas frowned for a brief moment, then acquiesced to his father's charms; they were indeed formidable. "Alright, Adar. But do not tarry, do not stay so long that you forget the way home."

Thranduil caressed his son's hair and kissed him on the cheek. "I will never forget my way back to you, Greenleaf. You are my reason for being."

Legolas smiled and pressed his forehead into his father's. "Be careful, Adar, come home to me." He stood and made to leave before turning back. "And do not get into any trouble…"

Thranduil laughed heartily and waived off his son, returning his gaze eastward.

* * * *

November 19th, 1770, London, England

Don Juan sat at the end of a long table in the dark hall, the cold night air chilling his bones. His dark eyes drifted over the crowd of revelers, his gaze skipping over drunken soldiers, coming to rest now and again on the women who frequented this type of establishment. Unlike many noblemen, Don Juan saw the beauty in all women, the beauty of their spirit that lay underneath the shell of their bodies. In his moderate span of life he had loved over one thousand women, leaving each one feeling fulfilled, feeling more beautiful than when he encountered them. To him, the act of lovemaking transcended the physical and touched the spiritual. He lived for their sighs and moans, to see them lost in their passion, to see them in touch with who they truly were for the first time. Even after all those encounters he never became bored with it, never became jaded; he was, after all, the world's greatest lover.

His gaze came to rest upon a mature woman carrying a tray full of tankards of mead and ale. She looked weighed down, tired, weary of the world and of herself. She was not the most beautiful woman in the tavern, but she was to him. He saw a tragic beauty languishing in her frame, and he longed to bring it to life.

"You like her, yes?" The deep and honeyed voice drifted into his ear from behind him.

He turned quickly and was momentarily taken aback by what he saw. The mysterious stranger was tall and strong, with broad shoulders and a narrow waist. He wore a cloak that masked his features, the hood drawn close around his head. But even beneath the cloak, Don Juan sensed there was a dangerous and irresistible man, one that might even rival his own prowess.

"Yes, I do," he replied quietly.

"But there are more beautiful women to choose from. Why the interest in that one?" the mysterious figure asked.

"Beauty transcends the physical, my friend," he answered with confidence. "You would do well to learn that lesson."

Thranduil raised an eyebrow and the corners of his lips curved into a smile. "Would I now?" he teased. "What makes you think she will entertain the flirtations of a mere boy? For that is surely what you are."

Don Juan calmly rose from his seat and squared his shoulders. "A boy, think you? I assure you, sir, is has been long since I was a boy. I am Don Juan, the world's greatest lover. I have made love to and satisfied many women in my lifetime. What have you done?"

Thranduil chuckled to himself and leaned back against the wall, crossing his arms over his chest. "Well, let me see… Compared to your list of accomplishments I am afraid I am sorely lacking. I am but a simple soul, not a great lover such as yourself."

Don Juan began to turn away, a triumphant smile gracing his lips, when Thranduil added, "Would you care to make a little wager?"

Don Juan turned back again and looked at the stranger leaning against the wall. "What sort of wager?"

Thranduil smiled and leaned forward. "I wager that I can attract that woman's attention away from you, that I can steal her from your grasp by uttering two simple words."

Don Juan laughed heartily. "You think you can steal a woman from me? That is laughable. What are the terms of this foolhardy wager?"

Thranduil cocked his head and softly replied. "If I succeed, then you will do whatever I require of you for a night, no questions, no exceptions. If I do not, then you may have whatever you want of me that I have to give, services, money, whatever."

Don Juan, in his supreme confidence that there was no way this man could best him, agreed to the terms and set about wooing the woman in question. Thranduil watched the handsome young man go about his task and was pleasantly surprised to see how quickly the female acquiesced to his charms. In a short time, Don Juan had said female sitting upon his lap in a wide chair by the fire, his fingertips caressing the line of her jaw as she blushed as pretty as any maiden. The mysterious figure then threw back his cloak, exposing his unbound, flaxen mane and bright sapphire eyes. He seemed to glide across the floor and Don Juan observed him with wide eyes. The figure leaned forward, his hair caressing the woman's cheek, his pink lips brushing her ear as he whispered two words to her. The woman, as if in a trance, left the arms of the world's greatest lover and followed the mysterious stranger from the tavern.

Don Juan leapt from his chair and followed them outside, shocked at what he had just witnessed. **How could this be? What could he have said?** he wondered. He found them under a lantern post, the King's fingers brushing her auburn hair from her face, her gaze upturned to his. He approached them and heard him whisper to her. "Remember who you are, my flower. Your charms should not be purchased cheaply. You are worthy of far more than a pretty man with pretty words."

"Yes, my Lord," came the woman's reply, and she turned and stepped into a carriage, riding away into the night.

Thranduil turned to face Don Juan and smiled gently. "Well, my friend, it seems I have won this foolish wager."

Don Juan was incensed and amazed at what he had witnessed. He realized that it was his own foolish pride that caused him to lose the wager, and now, being an honest man, he was bound to this stranger for one night.

"What did you say to her?" he asked, his voice nearly a whisper.

Thranduil smiled and stepped forward, his hand coming to rest upon Don Juan's shoulder. "I said, follow me."

Despite his efforts to keep his composure, Don Juan's jaw dropped and a gasp of disbelief escaped him. "How is this possible? How…"

Thranduil smiled and shook his head gently. "Ai, my friend, still so much to learn about love. Do you not yet understand that it is not what you say, but how you say it?" He tugged upon the young man's arm and led him away from the tavern. "Come, you will remain true to your word, will you not?"

Don Juan nodded, a lump of apprehension forming in his throat as he wondered what this mysterious man would require of him.

* * * *

Don Juan crossed the threshold of a well-appointed room in a boarding house in a fine part of the city. In the center of the room stood a large, soft bed, covered in thick blankets and pillows. A fire burned, warming the room, and the soft flickering light of candles caused the walls to glow amber. He watched the stranger remove his cloak and throw it upon a chair, exposing one of the finest bodies he had ever seen on a male. He felt small and weak by comparison, but followed suit, removing his cloak as well. The stranger poured a thick draught of brandy and handed the glass to him. He drank it down quickly, eager to quell his nerves.

"I do not know your name or your station, friend," he said quietly.

Thranduil smiled and motioned to his guest to sit by the fire. "My name is Thranduil. I am a nobleman in my land."

Don Juan sat in a large chair next to the fire and leaned back into it as the stranger sat across from him. "Thranduil, that is an unusual name. Well, what do you require of me, my friend? Money? Instruction in swordsmanship? It is apparent you do not need instruction in wooing."

Thranduil laughed and sipped his brandy before answering, "What I require of you is to put aside all you think you know of love and passion, to open your mind and imagination to possibilities you never dreamed of."

Don Juan frowned and answered, "I do not understand. What do you mean by this?"

Thranduil pulled his chair closer and leaned forward. "You have loved many women. This has been established, if I am to take you at your word, which I believe I can."

Don Juan nodded. "Yes, I am an honest man."

Thranduil smiled. "I sense that from you. I also sense your experiences with passion have been limited to that of the fairer sex."

Don Juan's eyes widened. He had heard tales of men lying with men before, but had never considered doing it himself. "Of course, I am a man; a man who loves women, as is natural," he replied.

Thranduil smiled again. "Are you so wise that you profess to know all that is natural? I am also honest, and I have lived many more years than you have and seen far more of this world than you. Even the wisest of all do not know all ends, as a friend once said."

Don Juan frowned. "How could you be older than me? You certainly look no older."

Thranduil placed his hand upon the man's knee. "Trust me when I say that I am, and in all my long life, I have loved many, male and female alike. Unlike you, I am not a man," he smiled as Don Juan's eyes widened again. "Nor am I a woman, I am a being the likes of which you have never encountered. I am male, most certainly, but I am not a man."

Don Juan pressed back into his chair and quickly crossed himself, praying to the Virgin Mary. "You are a devil, a demon…" he gasped.

Thranduil smiled and shook his head gently. "No, my friend, I am not evil. I am of the first born, from a race that walked the earth long before men; I am an elf. If you look into my eyes, you will see this is true. There is no place evil can hide from a just and pure soul."

A warm tingling sensation began to spread outward from where Thranduil's hand lay upon Don Juan's knee and the panic he had begun to feel subsided. "An elf?" he whispered as he looked into eyes that were a color of blue he had never seen before. "But that is a pagan belief. Elves do not exist. To speak of such things is heresy."

Thranduil reached up and tucked his hair behind his ears, exposing them to the man's gaze. "Those of my kind departed this world long ago. There are a few of us who return on occasion, to see how it has changed, to see how the race of men has fared." He smiled as he saw the young man beginning to relax. "But back to the terms of our wager. You agreed to give me whatever I asked for this night, did you not?"

Don Juan swallowed and nodded, reaching for another stiff drink of brandy.

Thranduil held the young man's gaze with his own. "What I ask for is you to yield to me, to let me show you pleasure such as you have never felt or known before. To let me give to you what you have given to so many others."

Don Juan stammered, "But it is unnatural, it is forbidden by the…"

Thranduil pressed his fingers to the young man's lips and leaned forward. "But is it what you agreed to do? Is it what you want deep inside?" He leaned closer, releasing Don Juan's lips and sliding his hands up his thighs. "I will not force anything upon you that you do not want. That is not the way of my kind."

Don Juan breathed in the elf's scent; it was rich and heady, like rosemary and fresh heather and something else that was spicy, like frankincense. Thranduil's soft breath brushed his lips and he felt a spark blossom in his loins as the elf's hands slid up his thighs so very slowly. His gaze was held fast by eyes that were an impossible and ever-changing shade of blue, and he felt his body soften, begin to betray all that he had been taught in his life. Never had a man touched him this way, never in all his most strange imaginings had he entertained what this would feel like; but he found himself doing so now, the elf's touch tempting him beyond reason.

Don Juan nodded slowly, his mind still not believing what he was doing. "Yes…" his voice whispered huskily, thick and dripping with lust and fear.

Thranduil smiled and whispered against the young man's lips, "You will not regret it…"

He then felt the elf's lips press against his own and was surprised at the faint mewling sound that escaped him. Those wicked hands slid up his hips and waist, the nimble fingers unbuttoning his vest. He leaned forward as the vest slid off, his mouth opening to a questing tongue, the small spark flaring bright as that tongue slid inside his mouth. **Mother of God, he tastes so good…** his mind cried out, that tongue still tasting of him, wrestling with his own. He placed his hands upon the elf's shoulders, feeling their strength and unconsciously pulling him closer. His body and his conscience were at war with one another, but it was lust that was winning the battle. Kissing a male was so different than kissing a female, more powerful, more carnal, and he quickly found himself yielding to the hands and mouth that claimed him.

Don Juan pulled back; a moment of clarity breaking through as the elf's fingers found their way inside his shirt and grazed a pebbled nipple. His body tensed with fear and apprehension and he closed his eyes, his breath coming heavy. "I will burn for this," he whispered.

Thranduil smiled and whispered to the world's greatest lover of women, his soft lips brushing his ear, "Yes, you will, but not in the way you imagine now…"

Don Juan felt those lips move from his ear to his neck, drawing more moans from him, battering his resistance. They continued lower as he closed his eyes, crossing his collarbone and moving to his chest. He cried out as they found a sensitive nipple and found himself arching in the chair, pressing his chest into the elf's mouth. "Please…" he whispered. "I am afraid, I am confused…"

Thranduil's mouth left Don Juan's chest and the young man moaned at the loss. Don Juan opened his eyes and looked into his face. A kind smile crossed his lips, and whispered, "There is nothing to fear, pen neth. I will not hurt you. I will not take you further than you are capable of going." Thranduil cocked his head and whispered, "Do you want me to stop? Do you want to leave me?"

Don Juan sat with his mouth open, unable to speak for what felt like an eternity. "I do not know," he answered quietly.

Thranduil looked at the young man and answered, "Yes you do. Search your heart, Don Juan, in it lies the answer. Heed the plea of your body…"

Don Juan felt the elf's finger draw down his torso and he moaned again, arching into his touch.

Thranduil whispered, "Feed the fire that burns within you, Don Juan. Yield to me, give me mastery over it for just this one night."

Don Juan's hands traveled from Thranduil's shoulders up into his hair, his arousal began to pulsate inside his trousers and he heard himself whisper, "Yes…"

The elf pulled him from the chair and he stood on shaky legs, hands that once caressed him softly now claimed his body hungrily and the last bit of resistance he felt faded away. That marvelous and wicked mouth claimed his once again and he whimpered into the punishing kiss, tangling his fingers in hair that felt like the finest spun silk. He felt his shirt fall away, exposing his upper body to the elf's questing hands, and he moaned deeply as those hands molded and kneaded his flesh, pulling him closer even still.

Thranduil burned with a fire that had been dormant for many years. He consumed this young man with urgency and passion he once feared was dead within him. Don Juan tasted of salt and lavender and smelled of fine leather. He was trying to go slow, trying to be patient, but he wanted this man so badly it was difficult to restrain himself. He broke their embrace and their kiss long enough to begin to unbutton his tunic. He was surprised when he saw Don Juan's hands cover his own and heard the young man's voice ask to be the one to do it.

Don Juan reached for the fine buttons on the tunic, slowly opening the garment and sliding it off the elf's shoulders. His gaze came to rest upon a smooth, hairless chest: hard muscles encased in the purest ivory skin he had ever seen. Small, bright silver rings pierced each nipple and his fingers lightly grazed them. He saw the elf's eyes close and lips part, a small moan escaping him, and he felt a rush of power at being able to elicit that moan from him. He slowly closed the distance between them, his lips moving to taste of his flesh, his body trembling with anticipation and fear of the unknown.

He opened his mouth and closed it upon a pebbled nipple, his tongue fondling the cool metal of the ring on its tip. He suckled it as he had many a breast, his hands traveling up the elf's back, coming to rest upon his shoulder blades. A thrill coursed through him as he felt the elf yield to his action and arch his back, pressing his chest further into his mouth. It was a strange sensation to hold and touch a male this way, to suckle upon a hard nipple resting upon a taut muscle rather than a soft mound of pliant flesh. He moaned as he felt Thranduil's hands move into his hair, cradling his head as he savored the taste of the elf's body.

Thranduil struggled to maintain regularity of breathing as Don Juan worked his hard nipple, the sensation of the young man's beard tickling his flesh, driving him onward, fanning the flames of his desire. This was what he had missed, this all consuming, burning want and desire; this was what it meant to feel truly alive.

His hands drifted lower, down Don Juan's back, his fingers tracing the waistband of the young man's snug, velvet trousers. His fingers skillfully worked the fasteners, and he quickly slid the young man's boots and breeches off before he had time to protest. He felt Don Juan pause his ministrations and his body tense beneath his touch. The young man's body was now bared to him completely, nothing to hide his imperfect human beauty from his hungry eyes. He whispered, "Sssh… brave one. Do not falter now, do not let the fears of those who raised you keep you from what your heart and body desire most."

Don Juan hesitated for just a moment, but was soon consumed again as the elf's skillful touch beat back his fear. Thranduil's hands caressed his bare skin and he felt himself flush under the elf's hungry gaze. He gasped as he felt the elf's fingers caress the juncture of his thigh and hip, gently tracing the crease that led from his hip to his groin. He shuddered as he felt his arousal swell to full hardness and felt the wet drops signaling his impending release drip from the small opening at its tip. Part of his mind kept screaming at him that this was unnatural, that this was a man; nay, not a man but an elf, a supernatural being that was seducing him to his soul's doom. However, his lust overrode his conscience and he succumbed to Thranduil's irresistible touch.

Warm lips pressed against his stomach as strong hands held his hips. He moaned uncontrollably, shamelessly as the elf's lips brushed through the mass of hair that grew around his arousal. He tangled his fingers in that silken, luxurious hair as Thranduil's warm tongue touched the root of his lust for the first time. He gripped the post of the bed and held on as if he were a drowning man, for that was what he became when the elf took him in his mouth.

Never in all his life, nor with any of the women he had lain with, had he felt anything like this. He never asked anything of those women; he only gave of himself. This warm, wet mouth engulfed him, sliding along his swollen length, milking his essence from his body. He trembled and shook like a schoolboy during his first sexual encounter, lost utterly to this beautiful, bewitching being. He remembered what the elf had said to him before that first kiss, that he would give him what he, himself, had given to so many women. Even he had not been aware of what he gave, for in this moment, in this room, his soul was set afire and set free. Pleasure coursed through his body and he moaned wantonly; this was how he wanted to feel every day for the rest of his life. His head fell back and he cried out his release as he had never done before, lost in complete abandon as he thrust deep into the elf's mouth.

Strong arms encircled him as he nearly collapsed in bliss, and he vaguely felt himself laid upon the bed, soft covers being drawn up around him. He was too weak to protest as Thranduil gathered him in his arms, pulling him close and cradling his head upon his shoulder. The elf's warm hands caressed his back and against the will of his conscience, he cuddled closer, suddenly realizing that the elf was now devoid of clothing as well. He jumped a little as his inner thigh grazed Thranduil's arousal, at the unfamiliar sensation of another male's organ touching him.

"Ssshh…" Thranduil crooned. "I know this is strange for you, Don Juan. But relax, give it a chance. I promise you what you have felt so far is just the beginning, there is still so much pleasure to experience." He smiled in satisfaction as the young man relaxed against him. He would give him time to bask in the afterglow of his spent desire before his real education began.

* * * *

Don Juan blinked, the dim light of the room slowly coming into focus as he returned from sleep. He was nestled against the elf's side, curled about him like a lost child seeking the comfort of his parent's embrace. One of the elf's hands rested upon the swell of his bare buttocks, the other was tucked beneath the flaxen mane that crowned the elf's head. He slowly inclined his head, turning his gaze up to that of the elf's and blinked when sapphire eyes met his own.

"Have you rested well, mir nín?" Thranduil asked softly.

"Mir nín? What is the meaning of that?" Don Juan asked quietly.

"It means, my treasure, in my native tongue," the King replied.

Don Juan lowered his head, returning his gaze to a vacant spot on the wall across the room. "Why do you do this?" he asked quietly. "Why did you choose me?"

Thranduil sighed, his fingers lightly stroking Don Juan's round buttocks. "I do this because I take great pleasure in it. You should understand that, Don Juan. What I did for you is no different than what you have done for the women you laid with." He smiled and pressed his lips to the top of Don Juan's head. "As for why I chose you… well, what better accomplishment than educating the world's greatest lover of women to the pleasure of a male's flesh?"

Don Juan moaned quietly as those bewitching fingers teased his buttocks, whispering over his tanned skin. "What have you done to me?" he questioned softly. "What have I become?"

Thranduil whispered against the top of the young man's head. "I have given you a great gift, Don Juan. You now know what it is to receive the pleasure you so freely give. You are different only in that way. I do not expect you will repeat this experience."

Don Juan sighed. "No I do not expect that I will, ordinary men are not as beautiful as you are." He pressed his lips to the elf's chest once again. "Nor do I imagine they taste as good."

Thranduil crooned, "Do you wish to taste of me? As I have tasted of you?"

Don Juan's heart skipped in his chest. There was still a part of him that was repulsed by the thought of taking another man in his mouth. But then there was the part that grew stronger, the part that imagined the elf's hard, silken length sliding between his lips, his warm seed spilling down his throat. **If I am to truly be the world's greatest lover, should I refuse this opportunity?** his lust addled conscience questioned. **I think not…**

After a pause Don Juan answered, "Yes, I do…" He rose to his hands and knees, straddling the elf's powerful body, the blankets sliding off his back as he rose. He crawled backward, toward the foot of the bed, until he came to rest between the elf's powerful thighs.

He took a long look at Thranduil and noticed his body was devoid of hair other than what crowned his head and a mere dusting that lay between his legs. His trembling fingers reached out and caressed it and he marveled that it felt like silk, just as soft as that which grew upon his head. The elf's arousal was a thick column of nearly smooth flesh, the skin even in color, save for a slight blush of rose upon its head. He settled himself between the King's legs and looked up at him with unsure eyes.

"I have never…" he began, then stopped himself. "Well, I suppose you know that already."

Thranduil smiled and replied kindly, "Just remember what I did to you, remember how it felt. Take your time; do not worry, you will please me."

Don Juan swallowed and nodded, returning his focus to the task at hand.

First, he reached out and touched it, his fingers gliding up and down the smooth column of flesh. His feathery touch elicited a ragged gasp from the elf, then a deep moan. He leaned in closer, nuzzling the down-like hair that grew at its base before taking a swift, tentative taste, drawing his tongue up the underside.

Thranduil groaned, his hips rocking forward reflexively. He could feel Don Juan's warm breath upon his heated flesh, the rough pads of his fingers tracing his length, and his beard tickling his sensitive skin. He closed his eyes and focused on the sensation of warmth spreading out from his core, blood pulsating in his hardened length, tingling in his thighs. "Yes," he whispered, "that is it, do not stop…"

Don Juan grew braver, his tongue circling the column of flesh, his lips pursing and lightly sucking on the tip. He braced himself upon the elf's hips, holding them still as he opened his mouth, slowly taking the hardened length inside it.

Upon the first brush of the tip upon the back of his throat he gagged, withdrawing his mouth quickly as he felt tears prick at his eyes. He felt the strong, reassuring hands of his strange bed partner upon his head, stroking his hair as his deep voice whispered words of encouragement. He blinked and swallowed, opening his mouth and taking him in again.

The sensation of the thick column of flesh sliding between his lips was utterly foreign and strangely pleasurable; the elf tasted sweet, like violets and clover and spice. He grew more confident and learned to relax his throat, taking him deeper each time, drawing on him as he remembered the elf doing to him.

A string of words that were unintelligible to him spilled from the elf's lips and he began pumping his mouth along his rigid length, faster and deeper with each pass. He could not still take him all the way in, but sensed he gave his partner pleasure nonetheless. He heard Thranduil whisper, "Swallow, my treasure…"

And he complied. A small gasp escaped him and he felt the elf's seed spill into his mouth; it was warm and thick, and it was sweet, much like honey. He swallowed greedily, sucking and drinking until the elf's nectar ceased to flow. He allowed the warm flesh to slip from between his lips and he lapped at it with his tongue, eager to taste more of him.

Thranduil arched as his essence spilled down the young man's throat and then collapsed upon the bed, his chest heaving and a thin sheen of sweat beading upon his skin. He shivered as he felt Don Juan's tongue slide along his length and he smiled when he imagined the magic that tongue worked upon the many women he had lain with.

Don Juan snaked back up the elf's body, his hands and mouth gliding through the sweat that covered Thranduil's skin. As he arrived at the elf's lips he whispered, "Even your sweat is sweet, my beauty. You are indeed as sweet as any woman God created."

Thranduil blinked, turning his midnight gaze upon the young man. "I am glad to please you so, lover. You have pleased me more than I had imagined you would."

Don Juan's lips curved into a mischievous smile. "Is that a fact? You have so little faith in me, my lover. Pleasure is pleasure, that is a lesson you have taught me well. I may be inexperienced in your ways, but I am still this world's greatest lover."

Thranduil chuckled and stroked his dark hair. "Indeed you are, my treasure, indeed you are."

Don Juan caressed the elf's face, his fingers tracing over the fine cheekbones and elegant nose, ghosting over rosebud lips and a strong jaw. He settled himself against his newfound lover, propping himself upon one elbow. His free hand drifted into the elf's hair again and he pushed it back behind his ear. He trembled slightly as his fingers followed the elegant curve and circled the point. His eyes widened in surprise as he saw the reaction his exploration caused.

"Does that feel good?" he asked quietly.

Thranduil drew a shuddering breath and whispered, "Yes, very good." The sensations elicited from Don Juan's skillful touch traveled from his ear straight to his groin as he began to moan softly and wrapped one leg around the young man. What he wanted was to plunge into his lithe body, to bury himself in Don Juan's heat. But he knew before he could take, he would have to give, or risk losing all that he had accomplished that night. He would have to prove to his lover that it was pleasure that was worth suffering pain for.

He placed his hands upon Don Juan's shoulders and pried him away from his body. The young man frowned as he was rolled to his back.

"Have I done something wrong, my beauty?" he asked softly.

Thranduil smiled, hovering over him, his lips brushing through his beard. "No, young one, you have not." He lowered his body to Don Juan's allowing him to feel the hardness of his arousal. "You can feel what you have done to me, yes?"

Don Juan drew a shuddering breath and nodded, his own desire responding in kind.

Thranduil whispered into Don Juan's ear, "I offer myself to you now." He placed a small vial of oil in the young man's hand.

Don Juan's wide eyes drifted from the bottle oil to his lover and back again. "You wish me to…" his voice trailed off, he was still not ready to say it aloud.

Thranduil smiled and nodded. "Yes," he answered softly. "It would give me great pleasure."

"It would?" Don Juan questioned with the wide-eyed innocence of a schoolboy.

Thranduil chuckled and placed a gentle kiss upon Don Juan's lips. "Yes," he murmured, his mouth nudging Don Juan's lips apart. "It would." He plunged his tongue into the young man's mouth, tasting of him, savoring his deep moans and undulating body. He pulled back from the heated kiss, tugging on Don Juan's lower lip as he pulled away. "Coat yourself and your fingers with the oil, then prepare me as you would a maid."

Don Juan nodded as Thranduil moved to his side, waiting on his hands and knees for him. He knelt behind the elf, his eyes taking in his powerful back, the graceful curve of his strong buttocks and thighs. He ran his hand down the elf's back, feeling the rolling curves of muscle and warm, soft skin. He did as instructed, thoroughly coating himself with the oil and covering the fingers of one hand in it. He slid one finger into the cleft of the elf's buttocks and saw him arch slightly in response. He found the small entrance and circled it with the tip of his finger, listening to the soft moans coming from his lover. He slowly slid one finger inside, biting his lip as he felt tight heat envelope it. He imagined that heat mercilessly squeezing his arousal, pulsating and throbbing as he plunged in and withdrew. He sensed he caused his lover no pain and inserted a second finger, having to push a little harder to gain entrance. The elf moaned louder and arched his back, rocking back against his hand. He began to slowly rotate his fingers, scissoring, stretching him, preparing the way. He slid deeper in and began to explore the tight channel when Thranduil groaned and bucked back against his hand, arching his back further and throwing his head back in response. He gasped and began to pull out when the elf barked at him to continue.

"Have I hurt you, friend?" he asked.

"No, quite the opposite, Don Juan," Thranduil gasped. "Do it again…"

He repeated his motion, and the elf growled and bucked back against him a second time. He was no longer sure he had the ability to wait, so strong was his need to bury himself inside the elf.

"Are you ready for me, my beauty? For I am not sure I can wait much longer," he questioned softly.

Thranduil nodded his head and answered, "Yes, now, do it now…"

He withdrew his fingers and watched the elf rise to his knees and turn to face him.

"Sit." Thranduil guided Don Juan to the head of the bed and directed him to lean back. He straddled his pupil and positioned himself over his lover's arousal.

Don Juan grasped Thranduil's hips and closed his eyes as the elf lowered himself upon his rigid arousal. He groaned deeply as he sheathed himself inside Thranduil's powerful body.

"Mother of God…" he whispered huskily. It was far tighter than the most blushing maid was; a hot, silky, pulsating blanket of pure carnal pleasure enveloped him. He lingered for a moment, holding his lover still, savoring the elf's velvet luxury, struggling to stave off his impending release.

"Please," came Thranduil's hushed whisper. "Do not make me wait for you…"

Don Juan began to move, rocking upward into that warm, silken bliss. He gradually quickened his pace, pushing deeper each time, angling for the place he found earlier. He moaned as he found it, Thranduil's body tightening around him as he uttered a keening cry and threw back his head. He stuck his mark repeatedly, each time sending unbearable waves of pleasure through his lover, watching him become lost to their shared passion. He closed his eyes and clung to Thranduil's shoulders, his head thrown back against the bed.

"Open your eyes," Thranduil whispered.

Don Juan opened his eyes and gazed into those of the elf. They were a deep midnight blue and his lips were swollen, a pale blush lay upon his cheek. Don Juan thought that he had never seen a being so beautiful as that of this magical creature. He opened his mouth willingly and moaned into the bruising kiss his lover bestowed upon him, his hands sliding around the elf's back and clutching at his shoulders.

Thranduil released Don Juan's mouth and hissed in pleasure as he tightened around him, drawing him further in as the young man cried out his release. He lingered atop him, his own desire burning his blood, his arousal throbbing mercilessly between them.

Don Juan smiled and whispered, "Thank you, my beauty, for the gift you have so freely given me." He took a deep shuddering breath and continued. "What would you have of me now? What can I give you that equals so wonderful a gift?"

Thranduil's lips brushed against those of Don Juan's, his tongue flicking against the young man's beard. "You could give me the same in return, you could give me the honor of being the first to have you in such a way."

Don Juan swallowed and nodded. He whispered, "Will it be painful?"

Thranduil caressed his face and replied, "Only for a little while, then you will know pleasure the likes of which you have never felt before." He slowly rose from his lover's limp form and pulled two pillows from the head of the bed. He gently placed his lover face down, his hips elevated by the thick pillows. He slowly stroked his lover's hips and back, his lips ghosting over the tanned mounds of flesh, his tongue gliding into the cleft.

Don Juan moaned and wadded the covers in his fists, the elf's hands and tongue reawakening his desire. He gasped and arched as he felt Thranduil's tongue circle his virgin entrance and he unconsciously spread his legs wider. "Oh God…" he groaned, as Thranduil's tongue breached his body, sending shock waves of pleasure coursing through his veins.

Thranduil diligently prepared his lover, opening him, slickening him with his skilled tongue. He then slowly inserted an oiled finger inside his entrance and placed soft kisses upon his buttocks.

Don Juan hissed through his clenched jaw, his body involuntarily tightening around the invading finger. "It hurts, it burns…" he whispered.

Thranduil stroked his hips and whispered, "Ssshh… relax, my treasure. Breathe and open to me, I promise you, you will not regret it."

Don Juan took a deep breath and tried to relax, focusing on those soft, warm lips caressing his buttocks rather than the burning sensation he felt. Soon the burning became mere pressure, the pressure became pleasurable and he began to moan quietly. A second finger was added and the burning renewed briefly, but he again focused on the warm lips and soft hair caressing his flesh and the pleasure returned. Just as he began to move against the elf's hand a third finger was added and he gasped.

"Relax, my lover, you are about to learn the true meaning of pleasure," Thranduil crooned. He crooked his forefinger and found what he was seeking; he smiled as Don Juan cried out and arched powerfully.

Fire roared through his veins, his body aflame with wanton desire and heady lust. His arousal rose to full attention, throbbing between his body and the soft pillows. "Again…" he pleaded, and his lover complied, sending him on an upward spiral of rapture. He groaned as the fingers withdrew from his body and he felt slightly dizzy at their loss. He tensed as he felt the head of his lover's arousal press against his entrance and he gripped the sheets tighter.

Thranduil stroked his lover's hips and back, chanting to him in Sindarin, his lyrical voice lulling the young man into a state of relaxation. He then entered him very slowly, his oiled arousal pushing into pure heated luxury. After what seemed an eternity, he was sheathed inside Don Juan's trembling body, his hands and his voice lovingly caressing the young man, whispering words of comfort and encouragement. Very slowly, he began to move, only a little at first, then more as he felt Don Juan open to him. He gently lifted his hips from the bed and reached around him, taking his arousal in his hand and stroking it.

Don Juan was caught between the elf's hand and his rigid length, swaying back and forth as he was entered repeatedly. He moaned wantonly, spreading his legs and beginning to rock back against his lover, the sensation of being filled almost more pleasure than he could bear. Just when he thought he could take no more, he gasped and bucked back against the elf, that same fire that burned him earlier now roaring through his body with even greater intensity. His arousal jumped in his lover's strong grip and he cried out Thranduil's name as he arched his back. He felt the elf's lips caress the back of his neck and he whimpered, utterly lost and undone to his touch.

A keening moan signaled Don Juan's release and Thranduil's followed hard upon, a deep growl echoing his lover's cry of passion. He lingered inside his young lover as long as he could, until his length finally slipped from its velvet prison.

He rolled to his back, pulling Don Juan into his arms and cradling him against his chest. He stroked the length of dark hair beneath his hand and whispered endearments to the young man as he felt him drift into sleep.

* * * *

Soft lips caressed his neck as he fastened the lowest button upon his tunic. He smiled and turned, caressing flaxen hair that never ceased to amaze him at its softness. "What are you doing here?" he whispered.

"You are late again. I grew tired of waiting so I came to look for you."

He gazed into sapphire eyes that sparkled with mischief and wisdom. "Are you my keeper now?" he asked huskily.

Pink lips descended upon his own and he moaned quietly as they nudged them apart. A warm, sweet tongue entered his mouth and he felt his heart race at its touch. As what was perhaps the sweetest mouth he ever tasted left his own, he opened his eyes.

"I am if you wish me to be…" the deep, silky voice answered.

He raised an elegant eyebrow and smiled devilishly. "And when did you decide this would be your role?"

"Just now," the deep voice answered. "As I watched you dress." A strong hand brushed the hair back behind his shoulder. "I have always thought you to be beautiful, I suppose I never realized how much until just now."

"Well then," he replied, "I suppose we should return home, I would hate to ruin this young man's reputation by being caught here by a chambermaid."

"Yes," the deep, soft voice replied, "Let us go home."

He yawned and stretched, then smiled as those strong hands finished buttoning his tunic. He grabbed his cloak and wrapped it around his shoulders and opened the window. He and his companion climbed out onto the balcony and he looked the short distance down to the ground, seeing a carriage waiting below.

"I see you have thought of everything," he answered.

"Your chariot awaits, my Liege," the deep voice answered.

He grabbed his companion by the back of the neck, gently yet forcefully pulling him into a kiss. He tasted of him long and slow, savoring his unique essence before releasing him again. "I could grow used to you, marchwarden," he whispered.

"Could you now?" the deep voice answered huskily.

"Yes, I could," he paused, his lips caressing those of his friend. "Rúmil."

Rúmil smiled and slid his hands into the King's hair, "I will hold you to that, Thranduil." He nipped at the King's lower lip and whispered, "Now, I must get you home before Legolas sends both of my brothers after us; he may yet throttle us when we return."

Thranduil laughed quietly, "It would not be the first time I have born my son's wrath, bain nín."

The two elves hopped over the balcony railing and disappeared into the pale dawn.

* * * *

Don Juan awoke the following morning; vaguely aware of the pleasure he felt the night before. He rolled to his side and stroked the soft blonde hair that was spread out over the pillow next to his. A soft sigh greeted his ears and his lover rolled over, bright blue eyes gazing up into his.

"Good morning, my beauty," he whispered.

"Good morning, my Lord," the soft voice replied. She was vaguely aware of spending the night in the legendary lover's arms but the memory was hazy, incomplete.

"Are you happy, my flower?" Don Juan asked in his most sensuous voice.

"Mmm, yes," she crooned. "However, I may need a reminder of your unparalleled skills, my Lord."

"But of course, my beauty," he whispered in her ear as he covered her body with his own.

* * * *

Epilogue

Don Juan, the world's greatest lover of women, carried with him the passion Thranduil ignited in him, but he would never remember the elf that gave it to him. He would go on to love women with a renewed fervor. Unbeknownst to them, women the world over would owe the King of Eryn Lasgalen a debt of profound gratitude.

Thranduil Oropherion returned to his home of Valinor in the company of Rúmil of Lorien. He would never again visit the world of men, having found in the onetime marchwarden all the passion he could hope for. And for that, Legolas was eternally grateful.

*****

THE END

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