Carandol the Novice

Carandol The Novice 5/5 Part 1
Sequel to Carandol the Matchmaker
Author: Sebastian
Email: sebastian.s@btinternet.com
Archive: AdultFanFiction.net. OEAM, Anyone else, just let me know where it is.
Rating: NC-17 overall
Pairing: Carandol (OMC)/Legolas, Thranduil/???, Elladan & Elrohir/Lindir & most of the Elves of Mirkwood.
Genre: Fictional Person Slash. Humour
Warnings: AU, sex, bad language, more sex...even worse language........
Summary: Carandol has been sent to Mirkwood to improve his...er... skills. Can he survive the spiders, the orcs, and, more to the point, can he survive the Mirkwood Cadet Corps?!
Timeline: Third Age, before the Fellowship.
Disclaimer: I only own Carandol and his machinations. Tolkien's estate owns everything else. No infringement of copyright is intended. I bow to the master. This offering is written purely for fun and no profit is being made. Sigh...

Translations:

Anghathel - iron broadsword
Filegluin - small blue bird
Beleg bróg- great bear


Chapter 5: Part 1: Of...getting it all wrong...again...

'Here we see the lovely Carandol modelling this season's divine mithril and pale green tunic made from a lightweight raw silk. This unusual material is spun and woven in Lothlórien by the talented hands of local elf-maids, when not engaged in other manual skills essential to the well-being of the local community. The adorable little buttons are in the shape of embroidered acorns decorated with silver thread, and are easily unfastened when haste is called for. Still popular, the long lines of the tunic emphasize the graceful physique, and provide a degree of modesty for those persistently hard-to-conceal elven packages. To complement the tunic, Carandol has chosen closely-fitting moss green leggings of lightweight velvet that tightly embrace his appealing posterior and legs with just a whisper of downy fabric. The nap of the velvet gives a soft silver sheen in low light conditions, very useful for moonlit pursuits, and, as Carandol gives us a twirl, you can see that this complements the mithril thread gracing the over-tunic. Hard but shapely calf muscles are caressed by boots of the softest suede died to a deep red-gold to match Carandol's hair. The outfit is guaranteed to make a spectacular entrance at the finest of balls, and I think you will agree that the whole ensemble is perfect for the fashion-conscious male who wishes to remain uninhibited throughout the evening. Hand wash only, lay flat to dry.'

I stop nancing about and look in the full-length mirror, only to admire the fine lines of the costume, of course, which Legolas had sorted out for me. I came a bit unprepared... but I'm getting used to that, knocking about with Legolas...

I tear my eyes away from the reflection of the costume and admire the garments Legolas has laid out for himself: a tunic made of gold silk as fine as gossamer runs ovy fiy fingers. I'm looking forward to seeing him in it...then out of it again. I admire the delicate embroidery of leaves and forest flowers and it occurs to mat aat a sprig of 'love in the mist' is possibly as much as many elves will be left wearing tonight.

Having approved of my... attire again, I wander in the direction of the great hall. In the passageway a tall but lissom figure billows towards me in full flow.

'And here we see Thranduil wearing a fetching little number in cobweb muslin...'

Oh my...the twins were right about the dress... and those tits...!
How did he get them to bounce...?

He greets me as he approaches and hitches the gown up in front of him.

"Good evening my lord, you look...er..." words fail me as he smiles broadly and strides past looking every inch a queen...!

I reach the great hall and take a look inside. The large cavern has been decorated with flowers and banners, swags of leaves and ribbons and intricately patterned lanterns.

I suppose I expected to see painted illustrations from the much celebrated manual by Lord Elrond, "The Joy of Impossible Sex" hung from the walls. (The new 10th edition is now available with a free location chart for those bewildered male elves about to embark on a life of grime.)

Bottles have been brought in from the cellars, and some of them have actually made it to the hall. Barrels have been tapped and spigots have been pushed home... the first of many...

The tables are spread with fruits and pastries, sweet delicacies and savouries, pies, puddings, cheeses, strangely-shaped sausages, and other objects of desire...The wonderful smell of exotic foods and spices has been wafting around the caves all day, creating a heady and enticing atmosphere for an already over-stimulated multitude of elves. Nothing new there then...

Many elves have already gathered and are laughing and chatting with their fellows, and the suggestive body language eloquently attempts to expresses what words cannot. I watch as a rather insistent male, not much older than an elfling, pins a much taller elf-maid against the wall and seems to be trying to indicate that he has a rather pressing problem. Obviously unimpressed by his dilemma, her reply is equally articulate, and I wince as the young male is left grasping his painful pubescence.

Poor thing...from this angle it looks like he's clutching at straws...

Lilting music floats down from the minstrels' gallery and wine is flowing freely, but what puzzles me are the number of sturdy branches planted in large pots dotted around the floor. Just as well the guard dogs are outside...

I step back to the passage where nearby are scattered several cosier rooms and alcoves in which smaller groups are settled on comfortable sofas or lounging on floors. As I walk past one of the entrances I can identify at least three separate voices groaning in passion behind a curtain.

Then I recognise a fourth and can't resist opening the curtain for a peek.

"Captain...Gildor...oh...!"

On the floor are two Galadhrim. One is writhing on the rug with Gildor's hand doing a bit of reconnoitring and, as the captain raises his head, the other elf's large purple prick pops out of his mouth.

"Hello, Carandol. Care to join us?" Gildor says and smiles, invitingly.

"Er...no thanks...I think I'll leave you to entertain the troops."

"As you wish, but I'm simply showing our guests how Mirkwood keeps up its bulwarks," Gildor says, and laughs.

"Anyway, you'd run out of ammo before you got to me," I say, looking up at the collection of enthusiastic students twiddling their thumbs... I suppose it's their thumbs but it's not very bright in here...

"Don't underestimate the military hardware, cadet."

I nod and watch as a third elf fondles himself as he stands behind the captain.

"But, why any any nce?nce?" I ask, fascinated.

Gildor chuckles. "Well now, Carandol, look around the caves. So many elves...so... take three at a time..."

As I reluctantly remove myself, I see Gildor's appealing rump being stroked and fondled by several more impatient hands.

One of them makes an offensive on Gildor's arse and, as I close the curtain behind me, I hear the elf saying something like..."Cover me boys I'm going in...!"

I wander down the walkway again until I spfew few cadets in another alcove and decide to join them.... Well alright, it's not the company so much as the welcome display of drinks on one of the tables that gets my attention.

I pour myself a large restorative and then sink into a squashy sofa.

"Looking forward to the pageant, Carandol?" asks Anghathel, moving over to sit with me.

"Not sure," I answer, still feeling somewhat apprehensive, especially having just witnessed the Galadhrim's blockade tactics, not to mention the enticing trans-sexual Sindar grinnin the the passageway,

""Why?" he asks, surprised. "It's going to be very enjoyable and quite an unusual spectacle."

"It's that part of it that I'm bothered about."

"I don't know why, Carandol. I could understand if it was you in front of all those elves. Anyway, they're not starting yet, which is why we decided to have a small party of our own first."

As I down my drink, Filegluin fills my glass again from a bottle of something called "Moria's Revenge" and then one of the cadets calls for a song.

Filegluin looks at me expectantly and I shake my head.

"My party pieces don't generally involve a lot of music." I excuse myself, remembering one of my rather tuneless but quite explicit contributions involving a few large feathers and some caramel sauce at one of the parties in Mithlond*.

"Give us one of your limericks then," says Anghathel.

Oh well, if you insist...

Ahem....

"A naked cadet on the rum
Tripped over a map and fell dumb.
He looked very silly
With Helm's Deep on his willy
And the Anduin right up his bum."

"Poor bastard..." says Anghathel, laughing, then goes red and moves to the table. Putting down his glass, he turns towards the door.

"Back in a minute. Carandol, fill my glass for me," he says as he's about to exit.

"What, from here?" I say and point at my groin.

"Oh, bravo, Carandol," laughlegllegluin, and wanders over to the table.

"Yes, indeed, my little water spout. I'd like to see that. Your aim, if I remember, is quite exact." says a familiar supercilious voice.

I cough in surprise and some of my drink squirts out through my nose. I turn and look at Haldir leaning against the doorway, smirking at me and stroking his lips with a long, curling tongue.

"Or perhaps you'd like to give us another rhyme instead?" he asks, and moves into the room.

Well, I suppose that's better than having him survey my plumbing again.

"Oh, alright...er...

"A sailor alone in his craft
Sang songs to the gulls, and then laughed.
'I haven't a lute
And no elven flute
So I'll whistle and play with my shaft!'"

"You are quite talented," says Haldir, chuckling, and sits in Anghathel's place moving an arm behind me.

I sit forward.

"Pps, ps, a little more?" he says, and I eye him cautiously before I drag up another rhyme from the vaults.

Gideaidea. I take another sip. "Bottoms up!"

"Exactly what I was thinking..." says Haldir, and moves his arm a little closer.

"Me and my big mouth." I say, and glare at him.

"Whatever you prefer," he says, but I ignore him and begin.

"An elf with an enviable todger
Was entertaining his lodger
The tenant got scared
When the monster was bared
And he realized the rent was a roger."

By now I think that maybe the laughter is due to our increasing inebriatiotherther more than my talent. But I really don't care as I carelessly lean back straight onto Haldir's arm.

"There you are," says a voice from the doorway. "I came to find you. They're just about to start. But, of course, if you're more comfortable where you are...."

Legolas stands in the doorway, a vision in gold and I peel myself off of the sofa and pick my way over the bodies towahim.him.
He throws a filthy look towards Haldir the harlot and puts an arm possessively around my waist.

"They've probably started already," he says and pulls me towards the great hall.

"Legolas...you're jealous," I say, feeling curiously pleased at the prospect.

"Maybe," he answers, peremptorily.

"You are. Admit it."

"Not now."

"Yes...now," I say, and stop.

We are near the main doorway and I hear gasps and applause and the sound of a single flute floating through the cavern and as my curiosity is aroused I forget our little tiff for the moment.

If they're going to put on a show I've decided I've got to see it. Legolas pushes me silently in through the doorway and I see that the large room is now only dimly lit and at the end of it stands a tall elf also dressed in a gold tunic. As the elf begins to recite, I recognise Serafir's voice:

"The leaves were long, the grass was gre The The hemlock-umbels tall and fair..." **

Oh no, if we're going to have a poetry recital I'm off for another drink...

I'm about to whe when I see an elf dancing among the branches in the pots.

I shudder. As I back away, Legolas grips hold of my arm.

"Wait, Carandol, you will enjoy this," he says.

So far, every time he's said that he's been right, so I sigh and pause.

The dancer then moves out from the twigs and I see the elf clearly. He is beautiful, dark and agile... Elrohir.s mus must have been the reason for the gasps, as he is moving with such sensual abandon my leggings begin to tighten.

Thank the Valar for my designer tunic...my little elven package has decided to turn into a mail bag...

I stare at the erotic movements and Elrohir's lustrous dark eyes enticing the audience with his sultry gaze. Gods...what a temptress...

"Tinúviel was dancing there
To music of a pipe unseen..."

Another figure moves slowly through the branches until he spies Elrohir dancing. It is Elladan as Beren. Slightly largean han his brother, he still moves with astonishing grace and then peers through the twigs as if in a trance as Elrohir weaves his spell.

"There Beren came from mountains cold,
And lost he wandered under leaves..."

An arm snakes around my waist as Legolas moves in close behind me and I can feel that he's also excited by the floorshow.

I turn my head to the side. "Why is Luthien being played by Elrohir and not Serafir?" I ask in a whisper.

"Serafir can't dance. Well, not like this. We're very fortunate to have such a lovely pair," whispers Legolas.

I nod. "So is the king," I say, gesturing to indicate Thranduil's false breats.

Legolas giggles, then we both watch the twins in silence as we succumb to their magic along with the rest of the audience as Elladan and Elrohir unite their bodies to move and sway together through the story of Beren and Luthien.

When they finish, the elves applaud rapturously, many adjusting their robes.

Then I turn to Legolas. "Is that what they've been doing all this time with Thranduil?"

"Of course," says Legolas, looking puzzled. "Ada was helping them practice. What did you think he was doing?"

I shrug my shoulders and must look embarrassed.

"You didn't think..." Legolas begins, "that the twins and Ada were..."

I nod.

"Oh, Carandol...!"

"Alr so so I'm a perfect fool...but at least I'm good at something!"

"Oh, my love." Legolas laughs. "In any case, Ada has a lover already...someone, he says, who makes him feel... well... blessed."

"He does?"

And the relief in my voice is evident as Legolas presses closer against me and we watch as the branches are moved into a different pattern and two lengths of silver cloth are strewn along the floor. At each end of the cloth, almost hidden in the darkness, stand two elves who move the cloth slightly to represent a stream flowing across the floor. The music begins again as Lindir's sublime voice begins to sing.

"An Elven-maid there was of old,
A shining star by day..." ***

The king enters and glides effortlessly through the boughs. I watch in awe as the king begins to shed the mantle of a fierce warrior-king dressed in drag and becomes a lissom and enthralling elf, full of grace and elegance, at one with the song and the music.

If anything, he entices us even more than Elrohir as his commanding bearing gives way to an allure of unsurpassed magnetism. I loo the the faces of the audience and see their spellbound expressions. Then I turn back to Thranduil and I understand where the prince gets his charisma from.

"Beside the falls of Nimrodel,
By water clear and cool..."

As the song flows over us, a light falls on a far wall and highlights a large model of the side of a swan-ship. The silver cloth is m to to sideside of the ship and undulated up and down to indicate the movement of the sea.

"Amroth beheld the fading shore
Now low beyond the swell,
And cursed the faithless ship that bore
Him far from Nimrodel."

As we watch, Glorfindel appears as if on the ship as it sails upon the sea. He stands tall, proud and magnificent, then leaps softly from the ship and into the gap between the cloth as both lengths are lifted rhythmically as if he were in the water.

"From helm to sea they saw him leap,
As arrow from the string,
And dive into the water deep,
As mew upon the wing."

The light upon Glorfindel fades and next we dimly see him with Thranduil as if they are moving together in a dream sequence. And I realise that this scene could easily have turned into one of sexual hunger and carnal lust, for together the king and Glorfindel exude both. But instead they force us to explore the mystery of union, and the deep longing that one feels for another.

The light is extinguished again and we return to Glorfindel as Amroth as if he has just jumped from the ship. He wades through the water towards the now faintly-lit figure of Nimrodel who is looking into the distance, as if out to sea.

"...Afar they saw him strong and fair
Go riding like a swan."

As the song comes to an end there is a big sigh from the corner where some Galadhrim have gathered, before the applause becomes deafening.

How could I have been so wrong? This was enchantment of a very superior sort and I sullied it with my impure thoughts and mistrust, with my suspicions and fears ....

...wait a minute though...what about Lindir and his latest?

As I'm lost in thought the branches are moved to the side and the cloth is gathered up as the music changes again and a single harp is heard. Lindir begins another song and as I listen to the
voice Ilúvatar graced with near perfection I hear the words... 'Beleg brog'.

I turn to Legolas and see him smiling.

"It's a present for Ada. Lindir describes him as a great bear with a gentle spirit. It's a lovely song," says Legolas, and I have to agree with him, it is a wonderful tribute.

As the end ends I try to explain what I also thought had been going on with Lindir.

"...and I assumed that as the twins were with Thranduil, Lindir had found himself another lover and I thought...that there was going to be some sort of explicit sexual display...you know, like a mass orgy," I finish, lamely.

"Oh...my sweet Carandol. You've been worrying about this haven't you? summsummer is a magical time, as you know...a time for love and...yes, a time for sexual exploits, and the caves will be bursting with both," Legolas says, and squeezes me firmly. "And tonight...my confused little elfling...you will also taste something new..."

* * *

TBC Chapter 5 Part 2.