Carandol The Matchmaker

Thank you so much to Minuial Nuwing, MGC, Anita and Qwe for taking the time to review. Its much appreciated...blush... Also...apologies for the delay...hangs head and shuffles feet...

Carandol The Matchmaker 6/6

Author: Sebastian
Email: sebastian.s@btinternet.com
Archive: AdultFanFiction.net. Anyone else, just let me know where it is.
Rating: NC-17
Pairing: Carandol (OMC)/Legolas (eventually), Glorfindel/would ruin the plot, Erestor/wait and see, Elrond/half the garrison from Dol Amroth, Elladan & Elrohir/just about anyone who asks.
Genre: Slash. Humour (Almost)
Warnings: AU, sex, bad language, more sex…even worse language……..A little bit of Erestor bashing to start with. (Sorry babe, I love you reall
S
Summary: Carandol is visiting Imladris on an extended visit from the Havens. He decides to interfere in a few elves’ love lives whilst he has some self-discovery of his own to do.
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…


Caution: there’s a bit of angst in here somewhere…

Chapter 6 – Of jerking, juicing and judgement.


“Er…Hello Erestor…um, nice night for it!” I say, trying to make light of the fact that I am more than a little apprehensive and very confused.

“For what, Carandol?” he asks, licking his lips, slowly.

I’m in big trouble. That tongue definitely wants to play.

“Well…er…for a nice…um…jaunt…in the woods.” And I know I’m digging myself a hole…

“You want to go into the woods, my sweet?”

“No…” I say hastily and continue moving backwards.

This is a bit of a tight spot… and I don’t want Erestor poking around in it…

“Why are you here?”

I can feel that he is almost ready to launch an attack so I quickly look around me for a way to escape. I have nowhere to go, and even if I had, I’d never get there fast enough, not with a determined Erestor on my tail.

Which is exactly where he wants to be…

He moves closer and I back into a column with a jolt. Erestor rubs lightly at his own pillar and stands in front of me.

“I think you know why I’m here, Carandol,” he says and there’s that wanton tongue again.

I look down and watch his hand in fascination as he plays with himself, and my eyes are glued to his bulge as it swells. I look up at his face in alarm, hitting my head against the stone.

“Careful, young one, or it won’t be in any fit state,” he says, coming forward and lightly stroking my scalp.

Hands off, I’m not giving you any head, that’s for sure!

Erestor is smirking at me, and I swallow nervously.

“Look, Erestormeanmeant, why are you… here?” I ask, to keep him talking and give his mouth something else to think about.

“You invited me, Carandol. You didn’t sign the note but you didn’t need to. I recognised your writing.”

Then it hits me. The bloody twins! I should have known they were being too helpful, after almost helping themselves to my person.

His warm breath is soft on my face and I move my head to one side to avoid his eyes and the closeness of his full, red lips, which I know want to eat me alive. He turns my face back to him but my gaze is still buried somewhere on the floor.

“Look at me, my treasure,” he says, softly.

“No.”

His fingers become firmer in my hair. And I lift my eyes to his and they are blazing and dark and full of animal lust…

I shouldn’t have looked. He pounces.

His kiss is firm, strong, hard and insistent as he presses himself against me. I’ve never had a kiss like it, and it takes me by surprise. So much so that I gasp softly and, as my lips foolishly open, his tongue makes a raid on my mouth as he tightly holds the back of my head.

It is neither tender nor sweet and I can’t decide if I like it or want it. But I definitely need it.

I groan as Erestor pushes his tongue as deeply as he can go and probes all around, massaging the roof of my mouth and my gums, and finishing by stroking my own tongue which, without permission, starts to curl around his.

Oh, gods… an urgent message flstrastraight to my groin to tell it that my defences are being plundered and my bolt must get ready for firing. And all my body wants to do is surrender.

He moves away and I’m breathless and stunned and I rest my head back against the column as I try to recover. I lick my raw mouth and move my sore neck, wondering if elves can get swollen glands.

I don’t need to feel my crutch to solve that one…

“I know you are new to such things, Carandol, so I’ll not rush this,” he says, as his hands are already opening my laces.

Er…excuse me, what do you call this then?

“I want to taste you… now.”

“Oh…no…Erestor…I…”

“It’s alright, little one, you’ll enjoy this.”

That’s what I’m afraid of.

“Put yourself in my hands.”

Well, if you insist, I’ll just plop it into your palm...

But Erestor kneels instead then swiftly pulls my leggings down.

My eager penis leaps out knowing its going to get something special and bounces towards him horizontally almost poking him in the eye.

“Your impatient friend is pleased to see me,” Erestor says and I look down at him as he leers.

I am just thinking how the cool night air is a relief on my hot dick as it starts to stretch upwards, pleadingly, towards my belly, when his mouth is on me and I shriek at the sudden wet heat. He sucks along the length pushing back my foreskin and stroking me with his tongue before letting it pop out again. Then he licks up the underside, lightly grazing his teeth along the length of my pulsing hot tube.

I hiss at the exquisite pain of it and he smiles at my reaction.

Erestor looks up at me then opens his mouth wide and engulfs my impatient organ. And I wonder at his enviable control as he sucks me in his throat without gagging, and I moan in ecstacy as I feel the heat of his mouth dancing along my over-sensitive erection. He is sucking so hard now and with such relish that his saliuns uns down my shaft and trickles over my balls which he now caresses very gently, moving them around in their sacs like skinning soft plums.

“Oh…fuck…Erestor…”

“I will…soon, my impatient one,” he says, letting me drop from his lips again.

“What?” I have no idea what he’s saying and I’m desperate for him to suck the life out of my prick again. “Ohhh…fuck… Erestor, please…!”

“Ah…I see you like a bit of the common tongue?”

Yes!…so lick me you tease… just don’t leave me like this…

“More…please.”

He draws me inside him again and I am becoming even harder and more swollen with every insistent pull from his hot mouth.

He then moves his hands around to my buttocks and kneads them, firmly parting my cheeks and rubbing his fingers in my cleft. I squirm a little and he looks up, leaving my anxious penis for a moment.

“Sshh…Carandol…I will not hurt you.” And he continues to rub deeply along my cleft with one hand, and massaging a cheek with the other.

I look down at my cock which is now oozing liberally from the slit and he pulls it into his mouth once more and sucks on the crown with relentless skill.

I throw my head back. Oh, yes, this is what I crave. The rippling sparks I feel in my whole body intensify as they settle in my groin, smouldering, before building to an uncontrollable furnace.

My balls are charged and ready to explode their load along my shaft. And I am dangerously close to boiling poinOh…EOh…Erestor…I’m…”

“Oh…Erestor…what?”

A sharp voice from behind my seducer makes me jump.

Legolas! And a very angry Legolas…who storms forward and pulls Erestor backwards and off my panic-stricken cock.

No, no…not now…not again…

“What are you doing?” He shouts at both of us.

“What does it bloody look like?” I shout back, distressed.

Erestor gets back on his feet and turns to meet Legolas’ fierce glare. The advisor’s voice is cold steel.

“Finishing what you started,” he says, “what you should never have neglected.”

“What happens between us is none of your business,” Legolas rages.

“But nothing was happening between you,” answers Erestor, and his voice hisses a little.

Er…lads…I’m still here…

Legolas leans in menacingly towards the advisor. “Now look… you bag of orc vomit…”

“Trollop!”

“Bitch!”

I stop listening to their mutual endearments and let my body slide to the base of the column and take myself in hand.

“Just you and me again, I’m afraid,” I say, and run my fingers along my burning length. It jumps slightly as if to agree that my hand is better than nothing. I immediately start to rub, urgently needing to liberate my over-charged balls, though I know it won’t take long. My breathing speeds up, fireworks flicker in front of my eyes and as the lava races along my shaft I roar as I jet thick strands of semen over my hand.

I’m still panting slightly and my head is hanging down watching my juices dripping through my fingers.

Suddenly, I register the silence and look up. Both Erestor and Legolas are staring at me and I just stare back as if to say: well, someone had to do it…

Legolas turns away and begins to walk back up to the Last Homely House and I want to laugh at the name of the place. But I also want to cry at my own stupidity.

I stand, weakly and Erestor moves towards me.

“Please, leave me alone,” I say, softly and with no emotion.

Without a word, he s ons on his heels and walks away.

* * *

Next morning I wake up with a terrible feeling of dread, guilt or unfulfilled lust or something and make my way to the bathroom where I drench myself in cool water.

I decide to skip breakfast…too humiliating…and I wander outside for some fresh air and a little peace and quiet.

“Carandol!” ell,ell, that didn’t last long.

Legolas has spotted me from a balcony and shouts at me to stay put as he’s on his way down.

I really don’t need this now but I know I have to get it over with.

“Well, what have you got to say?” he says as he approaches me.

“Not much,” I answer, and I try to be defiant.

“I find you with your leggings down and being sucked off by Erestor, and you say…not much?”

I look at him squarely. “Why should you care? Its not as if you’ve paid me much attention.” I accuse, and think I sound like a petulant youngling.

“I kept my distance because I thought too much at once would turn you away.”

“Oh, so you think that fucking my leg that night and having me suck your balls off was keeping your distance?” I remark, becoming exasperated.

“No…but…”

“Quite.” I say, smugly.

“Let me explain.”

“Explain what?”

“Why I did what…I did.”

“Well, that’s obvious,” I say, in my best huffy voice. “You just wanted to get your end away.”

I turn my heath mth my nose in the air. Oh…I’m so good at this.

“No, I didn’t!” he protests.

I raise a sceptical eyebrow…and hope it looks like that as I haven’t yet perfected this eyebrow stuff.

“Well, maybe I did at first, but…”

It must have worked…

“…but…look…Carandol…” Then his beautiful eyes seem to be pleading with me, so I let ho ono on.

He takes a deep breath. “When I first saw you, you took me by surprise.”

“Yes, I have the same effect on myself in the mornings,” I say, sarcastically.

“Please…don’t.”

I nod, and sigh.

“I thought you were very striking, your eyes and your hair.”

“Yes, I have both. Strange, that.”

Legolas ignores me. “I had never seen such glorious red hair on an elf before, and it fascinated me. But then I found the rest of you quite irresistable, and I wanted you.”

“I noticed,” I say, remembering the drool.

“When I metioned this to Elladan and Elrohir, they told me I was wasting my time as you didn’t like males. I wanted to prove them wrong.”

“So, all this was just a challenge, then?” I ask, in disbelief. “To see if you could get into my leggings and have a look at the rest of my red hair. I thought you at least liked me.”

“But I do like you, Carandol. And the more I was with you…”

“…which wasn’t often,” I say, making a face.

“No, alright, it wasn’t, but I did start to think you were more fascinating than your hair.”

“Oh, wonderful.” More sarcasm. “Was that before or after you had a helping of my sausage and mash?!”

“Look, I’m just trying to tell you that I started to like you more than my other lovers.”

“Other lovers? How many have you got?” I ask, a bit insulted.

“Carandol, please,” he says, and reaches out to touch me.

I take a step backwards.

“And you didn’t come near me often… because…?”

“I am a male. I thought you would need more time.”

“To do what? Work out where I’m supposed to shove my…”

“To come to terms with us…” he interrupts, “to come to terms with me…what I want…what you want, oh, I don’t know.” Suddenly he looks lost and I almost feel sorry for him. “I thought I’d scare you away.”

“No, that should have been Erestor.” I sigh and he looks at me hopefully.

“Do you like me, Carandol?” he asks, and now I’m stuck. My eyes begin to roam and start by looking at his intense blue eyes, his silky fair hair, his delicate but tempting mouth, his slim but strong torso… and then I pull my gaze away as my cock is already starting to twitch andckencken and I don’t want a stiffie to do my thinking for me.

What am I going to tell him? That I’m crazy about him, that I want to be near him, that I want to touch him, smell him, taste him, that I want to lose myself in him, and…that I want him to fuck me until I scream?

“Yes,” I say. And my cock also thinks I’m a coward and it wilts in shame.

“Only…yes?”

“Yes.”

“Oh.” And I hope that’s disappointment I hear in his voice.

“Tell me something, Legolas? What did you feel when you saw me with Erestor?”

“I was shocked, angry and hurt. I wanted to harm him.”

“Not me?”

“No, never you.”

Well, that’s a relief, you’re bigger than me.

“Carandol…let me kiss you…please?” And he asks so nicely, and I know that one kiss is all it will take, but I’m still wary.

I turn away from him.

“Carandol?”

“Not yet,” I answer, and walk away.

* * *

I slip back into the house, but see Thranduil down one of the corridors. I turn, swiftly, in the other direction.

“Carandol!”

I keep walking.

“Stop!” It is a command, and I obey.

I turn around and he’s looking down at me with a very forbidding expession on his face.

“Well, Carandol?”

“My lord?”

“Don’t play games with me Carandol. I can do it better than you.”

I’m sure you can…

“Why did you send me an invitation for me to meet with the goblin from Gondor?”

“But I didn’t…” I begin, and check myself before I reveal all. “They’d run out of dwarves…” I say instead.

“Don’t be smart, Carandol.”

“No, my lord.”

“That ruffian tried to take advantage of me.”

“Really?” I grin.

“Don’t smirk.”

“No, my lord. Where is he now?” I ask.

“In the infirmary.”

“Is he…”

“He’ll live. But he won’t be riding his horse any time soon. What I want to know is why an elfling such as yourself, who has been in Imladris for five minutes…”

“Oh, a bit longer, my lo…”

“Don’t interrupt.”

“No, my lord.”

“…and on Arda for barely ten…”

He pauses while I consider interrupting again. I keep quiet.

“…should think of interfering…”

“But..”

Another glare.

“…interfering in another elf’s love life, is beyond me.” Pause. “You may speak.”

“I…I… wasn’t trying to interfere, I was trying to help.” I say, forlornly.

“By setting me up with an oaf?”

“He wasn’t that bad, surely?”

“An oaf, Carandol.”

“Yes, my lord. But it wasn’t meant to be Balar, I mean you, I mean…” Oh crap.

“I do not appreciate practical jokes, Carandol.”

“No, my lord.”

“Some punishment is in order.”

“What?…But…I.”

He glares at me again.

I sigh. “Yes, my lord.”

“I will talk to Elrond…”

Oh no!

“…and determine the most suitable penalty.”

As long as it doesn’t involve the boys from...

“That is all, Carandol.”

“Yes, my lord,” and I make a hasty retreat, to find Glorfindel.

* * *

I eventually find my friend in a pool underneath one of the waterfalls.

“Glorfindel!” I call to get his attention. He turns, sees me and swims over.

I sit down on the bank and consider joining him. Then I just consider him instead. My friend has such a desirable body; packed with muscle and…

He gets out of the water. Oh, by the stars! Thranduil just has to see this monster!

“Hello, Carandol, did you have fun last night?” he smirks, and is completely unconcerned by my popping eyes.

“Oh…er…Fun? With Erestor?”

“Of course.”

Glorfindel starts to dry his body and I am totally engrossed by the way he fondles his heavy balls and the beast swinging over them.

“Give me a rub down, Carandol?”

“What?”

“My back, rub me down?”

“Oh…yes, yes of course.” I blush.

“Carandol, you really have to get control of your raging urges. What’s wrong with you?”

I take the towel from him and start to dry his back. “Nothing… everything. Look…females I could handle. But now I’ve had a taste of this male stuff, it makes me…oh, I don’t know… rampant but bewildered, I suppose.”

I finish off and slap his bottom for emphasis. He chuckles, starts to dress and then looks at me.

“So, I repeat, how was it with Erestor?”

“You left me,” I accuse, “left me alone with him. Where did you go anyway?”

“Don’t change the subject, Carandol. Did you have a good time?”

“No.”

“Why not?”

So I tell him what happened and even confess that Erestor had me incapacitated in seconds.

“But…” I add, “the kiss was very arousing and I wanted him to… do things…but I felt…empty. It was very strange. He’s a great kisser and he sucks like a tornado… But…nothing.”

“Nothing?” Glorfindel asks.

“I was as hard as the Argonath*… but I felt no effects of any kind. No shivers, shakes, trembling…nothing.”

“No stars? No bells? No chorus of elven voices?” Glorfindel enquires.

“No.”

“How about big slimy orcs, or the hairy inhabitants of Mirkwood, or…” he asks.

“Thranduil?”

“Spiders!”

I laugh. Well, we are talking about Erestor.

“So…you were simply aroused. I can’t see your problem, apart from the prince. Or…” Glorfindel stops and faces me. “Is he the problem?”

I take a deep breath. “Yes.”

Glorfindel grins at me. “Look at us…lusting after father and son. Are we dense?”

Well, I’m not, but yours is as thick as Thingol’s** thigh!

* * *
On my way back to my room I’m once again assaulted by King Thranduil.

“Carandol!”

Will this day never end?

I slap a smile on my face and turn.

“Come with me.” There is no room for argument and the smile disappears.

I follow the king and he leads me to the Hall of Fire where I expect that Elrond will mete out his punishment. There is quite a crowd in here tonight and, as I suspected, Elrond is in here too. I must say he is looking rather good this evening with his wickedly thin robe and even more wicked gleam in his eyes.

He also looks content, and that’s only to be expected as his wife frequently buggers off back to Lothlórien to get shafted by most of the Galadhrim. He also has a daughter who knows how to keep her mouth shut, when she hasn’t borrowed one of her mother’s toys. And Elrond has more than enough enthusiasm to enjoy his hobbies, that is when he’s not engaged in minding bits of Arda, or fighting for them.

He says that his leisure activities keep him sane. That and the garrison from…etc etc.

I wouldn’t want to disabuse him…but sane?…Now that stretches the imagination to its limits.

Of course, there are drawbacks to this existence. I can think of three: the two identical biological hazards and the smooth-tongued, dark-haired witch-queen of Arda.

I smile as one of the guys from Minas Tirith tries to persuade Elrond into a bit of tongue wrestling. He probably took one look at Elrond’s tall but slight form, and thought “what a pushover”.

Well, he is actually, but only against the desk in his study.

There are several very strapping reasons why the Gondorian shouldn’t come between an elf lord and his barrack room boys. But, I decide that, as entertaining as this might be, I really must go before they start to play ‘spin the bottle’.

You see, the Imladris version of spin the bottle involves a lot of oral exercise and saliva…and none of it is used on the face.

I never did fancy orifice work!

I start to move towards the main door.

“Not so fast, young one,” says the king, and grabs hold of my shoulders.

I’d forgotten about him.

I turn back when there’s a loud roar from the crowd. I can just see an unconcerned but victorious Elrond smiling to his guests and the Gondorian is flat on his face on the floor.

If I was him, I’d get up pretty sharpish, there’s some rum folk in this hall tonight…and a few of them wouldn’t worry about the splinters!

Then someone picks up an empty bottle and places it in the centre of the gathering and a large circle begins to form.

Oh dear…

Thranduil pulls me further into the room.

“Elrond!” the king calls. The room goes instantly silent and several pairs of eyes rake over Thranduil’s incredible physique.

He turns to me. “Stay here, Carandol, while I talk to Lord Elrond.”
And then he’s gone, leaving me alone to protect myself from a room full of libidinous troops.

I’d call for the cavalry if I didn’t know who they’d send. I can’t handle a pair of rearguards at the moment.

Elrond and Thranduil return and my relief fades dramatically when I see the look on the king’s face.

Elrond peers at me. “King Thranduil has told me all, Carandol. And, although he has been considerate enough to say that your plan was made from the best of motives, I can’t have you frightening the quests like this.”

“But…”

“Poor Balar’s nerves are shot to pieces,” Elrond continues.

I gape at Thranduil.

“These good soldiers have come here for some relaxation,” the Lord of Imladris states.

I gape at the ‘good’ soldiers. And guffaw.

Elrond frowns at me. “And I intend to see that they get it.”

Well, I know that. I should imagine they all will…twice!

“So, I think you need more practice using your warrior skills. Therefore, with Thranduil’s blessing, I have decided to send you to Mirkwood where you will need all of your techniques.”

I gape at Elrond. And then consider the bit about needing all of my techniques…and with whom…

“And on his suggestion, I will send Glorfindel with you, and a few others, to ensure you fully utilise this opportunity. I understand they have a stricter regime there.”

Images of getting up at the crack of dawn, living on bread and water and taking cold showers come to mind. I suppose the cold showers might not be a bad idea, but still....

Then I register what else Elrond has said and I look up at Thranduil. So…your rogue-ship…you suggested that Glorfindel should come?

I look at him in awe as I realise I’m in the presence of a master. The king’s eyes are smiling and he winks at me. Winks?!

Oh, Glorfindel…you jammy….!

Then I sigh in defeat.

So, we’re off to Mirkwood again after all.

Oh, goody…

* * *

End of this part…see you in Mirkwood in ‘Carandol The Novice’

* * *

*The Argonath – or the Pillars of the Kings, of Gondor. (Stones, that is.) Two enormous statues of Isildur and Anárion carved into the rock standing on each side of the river Anduin and marking the northern boundary of that kingdom. Anárion stands with his arm raised. (Probably at an angle Carandol would recognise.)

**Thingol – or Elwë, one of the greatest Teleri lords of the First Age. He was known as the tallest of the Children of Ilúvatar, and I imagine that the rest of his body was in perfect proportion!

Sebastian