The Weakest Link

Title: The Weakest Link
Author: Foofy
Pairing: Celeborn/Boromir, implied Aragorn/Boromir
Rating: R
Disclaimer: Not mine, don’t own them. Honest!
Summary: The Fellowship enters Lothlorien after the Mines of Moria. Boromir is plagued with guilt as the ring continues to call to him, causing the magic of the elves to bond his spirit with one who is strong enough to resist. However, this saviour has emotions of his own to contend with

Original Challenge: Must be elf/man pairing where through some "magical doodad" elf is now bonded to man. (cannot be legolas/aragorn, too cliche) elf resents man, man gets hurt either emotionally, physically what elf does when he finds out is up to you

Bonus challenge: elrond/faramir or celeborn/boromir......(something that isn't helm's deep related)

*****


“ How did this happen?!”

Galadriel watched her husband walk up and down the clearing, the fury showing clearly on his face at his predicament. Not that she needed to see to know; the anger, so unusual in Celeborn, flowed from his psyche in waves.

“ I have told you how.” Her voice was calm, gentle as she surveyed him. “ Calm yourself.”

“ Calm?” the elf lord stopped and stared at her, before smiling incredulously and shaking his head. “ I find myself hampered by that creature and you wish for calm? I fear I cannot be as complacent as you!”

Celeborn continued to walk up and down the glade, assessing his problem. His wife watched his pacing calmly, awaiting the moment where she would be able to offer assistance where he would be able to listen to it. She knew well his growing dislike for the Men of the world, and Gondorians were especially badly thought of. Their historical involvement with the ring had not escaped her husband’s attention in the least, and merely served to increase his annoyance.

“ It is unfortunate,” she conceded, her eyes bright on him. Celeborn gave a snort of laughter.

“ Unfortunate?” he echoed. “ It is something more than a mere inconvenience, my love!”

“ It is an unfortunate side effect brought about by the additional security measures, which I seem to remember you believed to be a good idea,” her eyes were soft upon him. Celeborn shook his head irritably.

“ With the presence of the ring, we could not do anything less. The magic that protects these lands needed to be increased.”

“ Indeed so.” Galadriel smoothed her dress. “ I do not disagree with the precautions.”

“ But why the Gondorian? Why *that* creature?” the elf lord frowned angrily and continued his pacing. Galadriel’s expression never altered.

” That creature fights to save Middle Earth,” she reminded him gently. Celeborn looked at her, his eyes narrowing.

“ And yet his mind is clouded already by the proximity of the ring. You know how it is calling to him, the sheer force of the longing and the guilt that controls his mind . It will be only a matter of time before he will not be able to resist its call.” He shook his head. “ Without Gandalf, his control will be shortened even further. No, he will fail.”

His wife’s eyes looked at him thoughtfully. “ Perhaps it is his heightened emotion and your own that is partly the reason for your current predicament,” she mused lightly. He looked at her.

” I do not understand. I do not have a heightened emotion.” His voice was clipped.

” I speak of your extreme reaction to the Gondorian.” The she-elf’s voice was tactfully light, words chosen carefully. There was another snort from Celeborn.

” I fail to see how understanding that Men should never have set foot anywhere near the ring could be seen as an extreme reaction rather than a sensible one. You see his mind!” his voice held his concerns clearly. Galadriel nodded thoughtfully.

” I do,” she acknowledged.

“ Then how can you argue?” Celeborn had finished his pacing to be able study his wife clearly. Galadriel delicately paused, her blue eyes resting on him steadily.

” I see the way that the ring calls to him. And I see the way he resists. His spirit is weak, but he still fights. Nothing is yet decided.”

The elf lord stared at her, then shook his head in disagreement. “ Your optimism is misplaced,” he advised.

Galadriel gave the smallest of shrugs to indicate her opinions upon this matter. “ Regardless,” she continued softly. “ it is with he that you are tied with, and he that you must speak to.” Her eyes rested on him again. “ A solution to your difficulty must be sought, and your link broken. If this is indeed connected to the emotional levels of you both, then these emotions must be lowered.”

“ And your solution is?” Celeborn looked at her sternly. Galadriel seemed entirely unruffled.

“ It is not for me to say. Your suspicions have linked you to the Gondorian, and your suspicions must be appeased. How you wish to conclude this matter is entirely your own affair, my love.” Luminous eyes stared at him gently.

The elf lord frowned slightly, then shook his head. “ I suppose given time a solution would be found.” He said grudgingly.

“You know that the Fellowship cannot continue whilst this is unsolved. ” The she-elf murmured softly.

“ We can keep the man here,” Celeborn replied, firmly. “ It would benefit both the man and the ring-bearer.”

“ Estel would never agree,”

“ Estel can be told.” Celeborn’s words were forceful.

They looked at each other for a few moments. Finally the she-elf broke the gaze, and smoothed her dress once again with the palm of her hand.

“ How is Boromir coping?” she queried lightly, then the faintest of frowns appeared at the momentary flicker in her husbands mood. “ You have spoken with him, have you not?”

“ He will cope,” replied Celeborn coolly. Galadriel stared at him.

“ He is already confused, bereaved and tired. Do not put him under any further stresses than could be avoided,” her voice was steady. The elf lord looked at her silently, then nodded, despite his misgivings. His wife smiled to herself fondly, and watched him as he turned to seek out the human that had managed to cause him so much annoyance.

Poor Boromir, she reflected sadly. This would be an experience he would have had no preparation for in the least.

*****

The forests of Lothlorien had been a not entirely pleasant experience. The very air felt weighted down with mysteries, leaves rustled where no wind blew. There was almost a low background noise that spoke of joyful singing but just at the very border of Boromir’s hearing. And then, of course, there was that feeling, the feeling that he had not been able to shake since he set eyes on the elf lord and lady of this realm, a feeling of anger and disappointment that seemed to be always present in his mind no matter what he did or where he went.

In desperation, Boromir had sought solitude. Gandalf’s death had, at least, allowed him this opportunity. The hobbits were subdued, their voices whispered across where once they would have cried out joyfully, regardless of how sensible it was. Aragorn had made his excuses and had vanished, presumably to speak to the elf-warden who had finally allowed them access. Legolas and Gimli remained, helping the hobbits in their grief, but even they could find no words of comfort.

The elven voices lifted again in song, and now Boromir could hear it properly. A lament for Gandalf. The words both confused him and yet made perfect sense. He frowned slightly, puzzled. The faint rustling of leaves drew his attention to the nearby forest path where Aragorn walked towards him, a concerned look on the king’s face.

Pausing in front of the Gondorian, Aragorn dropped to a crouch directly in front of where Boromir sat, his eyes searching the younger man’s.

“ Boromir,” the ranger said softly. “ I hear you have been missing for hours. Do not say you have been sitting here alone for all this time?”

The Gondorian said nothing, simply sat and waited. Aragorn’s appearance had managed to trigger so many memories that did not seem to belong to him, so many pieces of knowledge that Boromir knew he should not know, should not even begin to comphrend. The ranger noticed this look of confusion and fear cross his future steward’s face and put his hand on Boromir’s knee comfortingly, mistaking Boromir’s distress for grief.

“ You should eat,” he said kindly.

” I am not hungry,” Boromir managed to speak.

“ Then you should rest.” Aragorn’s eyes were firm on him. Boromir suddenly felt Aragorn’s need to check on those he was destined to lead, to confirm that they were well and thriving under his command, and smiled to himself. He shook his head.

” I will not find rest here,” he said softly. The ranger stared at him thoughtfully and opened his mouth to speak further, however the sounds in the woodlands caused him to pause. He stood as he listened to the elvish call, looking in the direction it had come. Boromir smiled again.

“ You’d better go see what that security discussion is about,” he said softly. Aragorn stared back down at him, slightly shocked.

” I did not know you spoke the elvish language,”

Boromir waited until the ranger had nodded his apologises and had left swiftly, heading towards the call. He smiled sadly to himself once again.

” I can’t.”

******

The elf lord sensed the human much earlihan han he saw him. Since their union, finding the location of the human was a mere moment of concentration. Said union also appeared to be getting stronger; now he could feel flickers of the human’s emotions, the occasional drift of his memories and thoughts which flashed into his mind before disappearing just as quickly as they came. He could see tan’san’s younger brother in his minds eye, laughing up at him with adoration shining from his eyes, promising he would behave himself whilst Boromir was gone. And then simply the feeling of sadness.

Boromir watched the elf lord enter the glade, his own senses telling him of Celeborn’s approach without him even understanding the reason why. His back stiffened slightly, his eyes already warning of caution although he carefully kept this emotion from his face. However, he couldn’t shake the feeling that the elf already knew what Boromir so carefully hid. Diplomacy and etiquette demanded he at least try, however.

Not that he couldn’t tell what the elf was feeling, however. Sheer annoyance aimed itself at him despite the mildest of expressions on the elf lord’s face. Even during the most explosive of family feuds, Denethor’s anger was a mere imitation of Celeborn’s. Boromir watched him as the elf came to a halt.

“ Boromir of Gondor,” Celeborn studied the human in front of him. “ I need to speak to you,”

“ It would be my honour, my lord.” Boromir’s voice couldn’t stop the caution entering it. This had to be about the ring. He could hear it calling in his mind for some time now, faint at first, but growing in strength day after day to the extent that he did not dare look towards Frodo for what it might result in. His dreams were plagued with it. It whispered to him whenever he did not focus his mind properly. And now it had affected his mind to the extent where he could see strange visions, memories he had never known before, understood languages that he did not speak. Could he honestly blame the elves for their reaction?

Celeborn watched him further, recognising the guilt, embarrassment and wariness that crossed the man’s mind. He relented slightly. Galadriel was right. There was already a significant weight on his shoulders.

“ It seems that we have been afflicted with the same type of difficulty,” the elf said finally. Boromir stared at him, confused.

“ I do not understand,”

“ You have been experiencing unusual sensations, have you not?” Celeborn paused as he watched the indecision cross Boromir’s face, the human trying to work out exactly what the elf implied.

“ And if I have?” the man asked slowly, his eyes firmly fixed upon the elf, recognising the fact that there was no realistic way to avoid whatever consequences were to happen. Celeborn frowned slightly.

” There is no need to become aggressive, Boromir,” he said coldly. Boromir looked at him for a moment more, then sighed and dropped his eyes.

“ No,” he said to himself, almost amused. “ I suppose there would not be.” His green eyes sought the elf lord’s gaze once again, a little firmer. “ My apologises.”

Celeborn took the time to consider his words. After all, there would be a limit to what the human would understand, magic not being of their nature. Neither, of course, was the patience to use or understand it but that was a mere irritance.

“ Regardless of my personal opinions on the matter,” he began. “ it seems that our essences are joined.”

Boromir was watching him with an expression that spoke volumes on how much the man was taking in.

” Essences?” he echoed. Celeborn looked at him.

“ Spirits. Souls. Despite your limitations, the concept cannot be entirely foreign to you considering the amount of unnecessary risk men put themselves each day,” Celeborn raised an eyebrow. The Gondorian looked surprised, before the traces of his own irritancy started to show.

“ My limitations?” Boromir smiled to himself and shook his head. “ This from the elves!”

Celeborn’s eyes narrowed slightly. “ And what, prey tell, is that supposed to imply?” he asked coldly. However, Boromir refused to be cowed.

“ It means that I would gladly take all the ‘limitations’ Men had to offer rather than an elf’s flaws. Can you honestly stand there and say that you welcomed the chance to assist with the Fellowship? That yontrontributed anything to the battle against the Shadow? Or has your arrogance kept you from doing this?” Boromir’s eyes flashed in anger.

Celeborn gave a snort of amusement. “ You do not approve of caution? Of course! What else could I expect from such an impatient race, a race that seems to be solely focused on speeding their own extinction by their constant bickering amongst each other!”

“ Bickering?” Boromir had stood, managing to keep his hands from forming into fists which would really not assist his case. Celeborn stared at him icily.

“ Bickering. Your borders have to be constantly patrolled against the Haradrim, do they not? Your lands have been split many times through politics and endless debates!” The elf lord’s voice was level and steady, although his irritation for the conversation was clear. “ You accuse us of failing to help. You cannot even help yourselves!”

“ But at least we try. You hide behind your magic and your realm, assuming that we will defeat the Shadow for you!” Boromir had completely forgotten who he was speaking to, his anger already reaching levels where diplomacy failed to be noticed. Celeborn raised an eyebrow.

” And this is from a man whose home is the great White City, whose walls and defences are well known?” hked ked softly. “ You know of nothing, Boromir of Gondor.”

“ Of course not.” Boromir’s voice was dry. “ Whereas the elves, they know everything don’t they?”

” Our wisdom certainly surpasses your own.” Celeborn fixed his eyes firmly on the man in front of him, lowering his voice slightly. “ As does our willpower against mental suggestions,”

The Gondorian opened his mouth to speak but no sound came out. He whitened, finally looking away. Feeling his annoyance lessen as the man’s guilt returned as the primary emo, th, the elf lord watched as Boromir struggled to find words.

“ You know,” the man said finally, the defeat clear in his voice.

” I do.”

Boromir stared back at him desperately. “ I would not take it.” The words came out in a rush. “ I swear,” Celeborn could see the anxiety in his eyes, in his mind, pleading with the elf to believe him. Celeborn sighed.

” But what if you do not have the power to resist?” he asked, not unkindly. Boromir looked forlorn, his fears spoken aloud. He opened his mouth to speak, but closed it once again and shook his head. He turned slowly.

“ Boromir-“ the elf put out his hand, placing it on the man’s arm to stop him. The shock of the touch almost caused him to lose his footing; memories crowded in his mind, of days gone past in the walled city of Minas Tirith. Of childhood days playing soldiers with other young boys round the cobbled streets, of stealing apples and cookies from the kitchens with the much younger brother in tow as a loyal scout in case of cooks returning. Of battles, endless battles. Of the white tree of Gondor, now dying. Of the flag of Gondor, flying ragged but true over the ruined city of Osiligath. Of every type of emotion, fear, sadness, joy, anger, pride mingling in amongst each other.

The pride of being Gondorian. The determination of saving a beloved city, a beloved land. The resolve to return to his much loved brother.

In the same instant Boromir’s back stiffened. The man gave a strangled cry, then fell to his knees as thousands upon thousands of years of memories assaulted his mind. Celeborn managed to catch him before Boromir finally lost consciousness entirely.

******

The groan, when it came, was soft but no less demanding.

“ What happened?”

His back resting on soft blankets, his balance still shaky and strange, Boromir blinked in the room and pushed himself up slightly. A wave of nausea hit him, causing him to reconsider his actions. Sliding back down he looked around the intricately carved room in bewilderment before resting his eyes on the figure sitting near his bed.

Celeborn’s expression was troubled. Boromir could feel his mixed feelings almost as strongly as he could feel his own. The Gondorian frowned and shook his head as though to clear it. A headache threatened.

“ Stop it,” the elf instructed quietly. “ You wonlyonly make yourself worse,”

And give them both that rather significant headache, he almost added. However, that went without saying. Thankfully Boromir seemed willing to listen to reason and stilled his movements, his eyes dark and fixed on the elf beside him.

” What happened?” he repeated, steadily, finding previously untapped levels of calm that he never realised he had. Celeborn raised an eyebrow, and sighed heavily.

” You mean you do not know?” he asked. Boromir looked confused.

“ How could I know? I …,” the man trailed off as he searched his memories. Searched the memories that were present in his mind anyway; through someone else’s eyes he could see himself stumble, fall. He could hear the words of Galadriel comment about their predicament from an earlier conversation that he knew he had not been present in. Boromir stared back at the elf, transfixed with shock.

“ Bonded?” he was obviously still struggling with the concept, although now further glimmers of understanding were beginning to show. “ How can that be?”

“ You are currently residing in a realm that is protected and hidden by magic. Thanks to the ring bearer, additional strength had to found to fight against anything that threatened us, or sought the ring. This apparently is a side-effect to those precautions.” Celeborn shrugged slightly. Boromir narrowed his eyes slightly, further memories surfacing.

“ Why me?” his voice was of one who already suspected the answer.

Celeborn paused for a few moments, allowing the man time to properly assess the memories that the elf knew he had. The elf lord could see the man’s confusion, coupled with an increasing feeling of guilt. Ah yes, Boromir was beginning to understand why it had been Celeborn that the magic had linked with the new ‘threat’, knew well of the elf’s already strong suspicions when it came to men. And the Gondorian also knew well what ion ion had caused him to be so open for invasion.

“ I disliked the concept of men entering these woods. You seemed to be racked with guilt.” Celeborn confirmed, looked towards the window. “ It seems that a link was formed between these.”

Boromir watched him. “ Disliked?” he echoed softly, seeing in his mind’s eyes the strength of the conviction.

Celeborn glanced back at him, knowing there was no point in hiding anything from one who could easily pick it from your mind if he so wished. Or indeed could find the ability to do. Boromir was not a natural. “ Fine. Hated.”

Boromir shifted on the bed. The elf looked at him. “ You are uncomfortable?”

“ No. Just … ,” Boromir glanced longingly towards the window himself, then back again. “ How long was I out for?” he sighed.

“ About ten minutes.” The elf lord watched the human give the window another longing glance, feeling his desire to get up and do something. Obviously the human was a very poor patient indeed. “ I would not recommend you moving until you are truly better.”

“ I am fine,” protested Boromir. Celeborn raised an eyebrow. The Gondorian looked slightly sheepish, and stopped his arguments, staring towards the window again. The elf ran his eyes down the man’s body, assessing, knowing that he would attempt to leave the room as soon as possible. The elves who had carried him to the room had stripped the man of the majority of his clothing, which lay in a neat pile on a chair, the sword propped up against it. To allow for the usual human embarrassment of their own bodies, they had left him his breeches, although by the travel stains they looked like they could benefit from a good wash.

Celeborn frowned as another memory flashed through his mind; rough, calloused hands, tanned by so many years in the wild, reaching for that same drawstring of the breeches. A soft laugh, which echoed in the surrounding dark. Focusing on Aragorn’s face through Boromir’s eyes, Celeborn watched the ranger’s gaze soften and yet still demand, his hands already speeding up on their task. He could hear Boromir, himself, murmur somet abo about waking the hobbits, then Aragorn respond. They will not wake. Do not fear.

It took him a moment or two to stop focusing on this memory, the first of what appeared to be several whilst the Fellowship crossed the mines of Moria. Of Aragorn taking him roughly, both their es ses still cold and wet from their tussles with the Watcher in the Water, feeling the blood pump strongly through their bodies. Of the few hours that they shared, cuddled together in their shared bedrolls, sharing body heat whilst also relaxing in the other’s proximity

And since the fall of Gandalf…

“ His affection has ceased for you?” the elf could not resist the question. The human had already flushed, aware of what the elf had been reflecting upon. His gaze fell back onto the window.

“ His concentration is elsewhere,” he said softly, then added hastily. “ It was only for motivation. To seek out comfort to get through the journey.” Celeborn could feel the man’s anxiety that he had accidentally informed Arwen’s grandfather of her betrothed's defection. The elf smiled to himself.

“ I see.”

Boromir could sense Celeborn’s amusement but for the life of him could not understand it in the slightest. However, death and damnation failed to be aimed in his direction. Celeborn placed his hand on the human’s bare shoulder in comfort, falling silent for a moment at the spark of contact between them. Boromir trembled, his eyes wide and so very young, a child scared by the unknown horrors of the dark.

“ It is alright, Boromir,” the elf lord tried to take the confusion from the man’s face. “ This will be finished.”

Cautious but trusting eyes turned to him. Celeborn resisted the urge to ruffle the man’s hair. There was an amused chuckle from Boromir.

” I haven’t had my hair ruffled since Faramir jumped me when I was fifteen,” he smiled. “ It caused my hair to look messy just before a parade. Father was not amused.”

“ My apologises,” Obviously Boromir was gaining some ability with his link already. Celeborn smiled slightly. “ You seem so young to me.”

“ I might be young in comparison but I do have experiences, you know. I am not innocent and naïve.”

“ I find that the very innocent and naïve never realise that they were until they have lost it,” mused the elf. Boromir raised an eyebrow.

” You’re calling me naïve?” he asked incredulously.

“ I doubt whether I could call you innocent,” Celeborn brought forward the thought of Boromir on his knees, taking his king deep into his mouth, Aragorn’s hand fisted tightly in his Steward’s hair as he came down Boromir’s throat. Boromir flushed again.

” That’s not fair,” he protested. “ You don’t seem to have any I can find,”

” Are you calling me innocent?” the elf looked affrontBoroBoromir laughed lightly.

“ After however many years? That would be willpower indeed. And I doubt whether your wife would approve,” he added. Celeborn watched him in amusement, his hand moving to stroke the young man’s neck as though testing how smooth it was. Boromir lay in silence, his eyes dreamily set on Celeborn as the elf continued his caresses, both feeling simultaneously both aspects of the touch.

The elf moved his hand down to rest on the man’s chest, feeling the rhymic rise and fall of the ribcage in fascination; the heat of the man through his palm was fantastic. He was aware that the Gondorian was simply watching him silently, feeling the man’s thoughts through his mind, Boromir’s idle wonder exactly what the elf would do next and whether the hand would wander further. The shared pleasure had also not been missed; the touch of his hand had caused an extremely pleasant tingling sensation through both of them, as though all nerves had been faintly stimulated. Celeborn could still feel the tremble through Boromir now.

Boromir’s gaze on him seemed to grow in intensity. Celeborn attempted to ignore him, but it was extremely difficult to ignore the growing desire to simply keep going with his caresses. He knew of men’s low willpower when it came to sexual encounters, a side-effect of their limited lifespan, yet the elf’s own willpower was being slowly eaten away by Boromir’s influence and the flashes of me tha that kept entering his mind. Lust filled nights spent with Aragorn, occasionally so clear that it was almost as though he had been there, took up much of Celeborn’s concentration.

The elf lord’s eyes drifted towards Boromir thoughtfully. There was the faintest flush on Boromir’s face through embarrassment, but his eyes were still firm on him. Celeborn realised with a start that the man was actively waiting for him to consider it, deliberately bringing the more stimulating memories to the front of his mind to encourage him; Celeborn could her Aragorn’s huskily whispered elven words of desire spoken as Boromir reached orgasm. Through Boromir’s eyes the elf could see the ranger positioned over the Gondorian’s willing naked body, watching him hungrily for a moment before plunging into him. And of earlier memories, of a pair of lighter, delicate hands working Boromir’s erection skilfully. Celeborn felt all of it as though it had been he who was the centre of their attention.

The elf shook his head.

” You are incorrigible,” he commented.

“ Am I?” Boromir’s voice was innocent, his embarrassment dying.

Celeborn smiled slightly. “ Is this truly what all men think about?”

” Unfortunately we often do not get the time to give it the attention it deserves,” Boromir’s eyes were steady upon him, his voice still soft. Celeborn idly traced a pattern on the Gondorian’s chest before flickering his finger over one of the man’s nipples. Boromir gasped as though in pain.

” You forget that I dislike men,” murmured Celeborn.

“ I know.” Boromir seized control of his breathing.

” You are rude and unspeakably crude creatures,” the elf lord raised an eyebrow, his voice still mild and without bite. Boromir shrugged slightly.

“ So I hear.”

“ Completely devoid of long term wisdom, only really able to react,” Celeborn’s hand had started it’s journey again. Boromir arched his back slightly to allow the elf to touch him.

” If you say so.” The Gondorian’s mouth appeared to be working automatically, his eyes fixed on the elven hand that now rested at the drawstring of the breeches. Celeborn could feel the tenseness of the man, the desire as though his own.

” What you are suggesting is inappropriate,” murmured the elf. Boromir gave a soft laugh.

” I offer you affection and all you can say is that it is inappropriate?” he murmured. Celeborn surveyed him, a half smile on his lips.

“ You know, I have killed men for less than what you have just said,” he mused. Boromir shrugged.

” Lucky me,” his eyes showed his amusement, even if Celeborn was not already aware of it. “ Now, do you think that all your wisdom and experience could work out how to un-do those breeches?”

They watched each other. Finally Celeborn smiled ruefully to himself and Boromir chuckled.

“ Impudent pup.” The elf responded.

“ That’s me,” agreed Boromir, his eyes meeting the elf’s.

“ What makes you think that I would be interested?” Celeborn continued in the mildest of voices. Boromir raised an eyebrow and smirked. A particular memory crossed between them, one that Celeborn had been desperately trying to keep away from the human. The elf groaned softly. Boromir’s smirk widened slightly.

“ I have no idea,” the man murmured.

There was only the briefest of pauses before the hand swiftly moved into action.

*

Boromir’s stamina had fallen first, although neither had doubted this particular ending. Trembling from over stimulation and several long and intense orgasms, the Gondorian lay sleepily next to the elf, his arm resting across Celeborn’s stomach as though in possession.

Celeborn smiled and amused himself by playing with a lock of Boromir’s soft golden brown hair whilst thinking to himself. He had already been with several of the human race, although the last had been so long ago that he doubted whether Boromir’s grandfather had even been born. He was amused that there seemed to be some human characteristics shared by many of their race; the impatience yet the eagerness to please, despite the inexperience in all but the very basics of sexual interaction. The look of shock that crossed Boromir’s face as Celeborn had recounted somethe the more adventurous examples would keep the elf amused long after the human would leave with the others.

And leave he would. Celeborn still had not found his proof that the ring would be safe. He had not discovered untapped willpower or ability to resist from the human. However, throughout the entirety of their bonding and lovemaking Celeborn had realised the sheer determination of the man, the pride he held for his land and, most importantly, the love he held for his brother. Yes, it would be Faramir’s influence that would tackle the ring’s power in Boromir’s mind.

Perhaps all was not lost after all.

Celeborn leaned over and kissed the now sleeping man on the forehead. Boromir mumbled something in his sleep and rolled over. The elf could catch the last glimpses of his dream before that too faded.

The link, it seemed, had been broken.