The Mithril Chain

The Mithril Chain

Posted: December 29, 2006
Title: The Mithril Chain
Author: LadyHawksShadow
Type: FCS
Characters: Boromir/Elrond
Rating: NC-17
Disclaimer: I do not own these characters. I make no profit from their use.
Warnings: m/m, light kink, light fetish, light bondage
Author's Notes: Written for the slashfest fic swap.

Summary: Lord Elrond must get Boromir to accept that he will not be the leader of the Fellowship. This is as close as I could get to the original request without writing a novel. I hope it suffices.

*****

Elrond watched the arch of Boromir’s brow and the curved line of his back as he slowly straightened. The Man’s eyes swept the assembly and the tilt of his chin suggested more to Elrond than mere stubbornness. There also lay pride in the gray depths and an unwillingness to bend to another--for any reason. Elrond barely concealed a smile as he watched the Fellowship ring around young Frodo Baggins, Boromir of Gondor with joining last. Too well did he understand Boromir, far more than the Man of Gondor realized. He, too, was stubborn and willful--he, like Boromir--did not easily bend to another’s will.

Sensing Elrond’s stare, Boromir turned his gaze to the elf and bowed. “My lord,” he said as his hand went to his heart. “I believe we have concluded our business.”

“At least this much of it,” Elrond said as he rose and swept his robes aside. “Come, let us refresh ourselves.” He led the party toward the Hall of Fire where a repast awaited them. His staff had laid out meats and cheeses and fresh fruits and wine for the council.

The men assembled near one another, Boromir at their center, and talked among themselves as they ate and drank. The Hobbits gathered near Aragorn, as if seeking his protection even among the elven kind. They were joined by Legolas. Every once in a while, Boromir would look up and around, casually as if looking at nothing in particular, but invariably his eyes eventually rested on Elrond.

“My old friend,” Gandalf seated himself next to Elrond and followed his line of sight. “I see you still have your passion for the untamable.”

“Is he?” Elrond stirred and gave the wizard a look. “Untamable?”

“And unbreakable, I’d say.”

“You would be wrong in your assumptions, Gandalf,” Elrond warned darkly. “He has yet faced a force that was beyond him. He is merely untried.”

Gandalf sat up a little straighter in his chair. Was Elrond making sexual innuendo or did he see something in the Man that others had not? “I would say many have tried. Few have succeeded.”

Elrond nodded, keeping his dark thoughts to himself. He suspected, but could not prove, that Boromir might be trouble on the journey. He didn’t wish to alarm his old friend with his unspecified feelings and so said nothing at all. “Breaking in a beautiful stallion is always a pleasure.”

Gandalf merely laughed and turned his attention to Erestor as Elrond excused himself and made his way toward the men huddled in the corner.

Boromir watched Lord Elrond approach and felt a shiver race through his body at the sight. The elf lord was tall and angular, well-muscled beneath his scholarly robes. He emanated barely contained power. The deep eyes held promises and secrets and wisdom and something else that Boromir could not define.

“Lords,” Elrond said as he joined the small knot. “We will begin preparations on the morrow for the journey. There is much to be done. Maps need consulting and provisions need gathering.”

“I hoped that we could be on our way sooner rather than later,” Boromir gazed into Elrond’s eyes and felt a tightening in his chest.

“I do not think that possible,” the deep, melodious voice rejoined. “The young one is still recovering from his wounds and we need to send out scouts to and diversions for the safety of the Fellowship.”

“And we have yet to define a route.”

“Perhaps you can help us with that, Lord Boromir,” Elrond’s hand rested lightly on Boromir’s shoulder and he felt the Man tense.

“The pleasure would be mine,” Boromir rose from his chair so that he and Elrond were nose to nose. Unless he was mistaken, he read an invitation in the depths and he wondered if it was wise of him to even consider taking him up on it.

“Perhaps you would like to see the maps tonight?” The voice was a silken purr.

“I would,” Boromir felt the pull of Elrond’s power, felt the elf’s thoughts brush over his skin and leave it tingling.

Together they bowed and moved away from the rest of the Men, making their way slowly toward the Hall’s exit. Neither was hurried and yet they both felt an unmistakable urge, as if they were bound to one another by an invisible cord as fine as a single strand of hair but stronger than the finest forged steel. They said nothing as they left the merriment behind and strolled the length of silent corridors. Boromir’s boots rang on the stone floors. Elrond’s robes rustled softly. Stopping before a door, Elrond pushed it open and ushered Boromir inside.

The Man suppressed his disappointment. He’d thought he’d read more into the situation than, apparently, existed. The room was nothing more than a rectangular study, filled with cubby holes and shelves and tables and chairs. Candles guttered in their holders. “Perhaps we should have also brought in Aragorn. He is well-traveled, is he not?”

“Aragorn is not needed for this meeting,” Elrond said quietly as he closed and bolted the door.

The click of the bolt brought Boromir around and he almost smiled. “I was not mistaken.”

“Do you object?”

“If I had done so, my lord, I would not have followed you. Although,” he glanced around, “this is not in the least what I expected.”

Elrond’s smile was slow and sensual, as if distracted by other thoughts. The eyes crinkled at the corner. “For now, it suits my purposes.” He came forward and put his hand under Boromir’s chin. “This is as good a place as any to begin your education.”

Boromir laughed. “I need no education, Lord Elrond. I am well-versed.”

“So you think,” Elrond replied as his grip tightened. “Tonight I will teach you things you never thought to learn.” And when Boromir tried to jerk his chin away, Elrond pinned him firmly against an unmovable table. “Tonight, Boromir, you will gain knowledge far beyond even the ken of the Captain-General of Gondor.”

Elrond’s wine-flavored breath fanned his face and the vice-like grip hurt his jaw. But what he saw in Elrond’s eyes made Boromir’s heart race and his loins ache. Fear and longing curled together in his belly. His tongue touched his lower lip and he thought for a moment to offer a Elrond a clever quip. A slight shake of the elf’s head changed his mind.

“Better,” Elrond said quietly as he moved his body away from Boromir’s. “You will do well, I think, if you curb your impulses.” He glanced away for a moment, scanning the room, gathering his thoughts, pushing down his own needs. “Sometimes we must bend to the will of others, submit our bodies and souls into the keeping of another.”

Boromir felt a crawling along his spine and the fine hairs on his arms rose. “My Lord Elrond, I do not think I like the gist of your conversation.”

Elrond only smiled as he pawed through a small, carved box among the clutter of books and scrolls and ink pots. He located a mithril chain and held it aloft so that the candlelight played off it. “Someone--a close friend--gifted me this. I wore it for many years before I was ready to remove it. I’ve never given it to another, but then I’ve never met anyone I felt worthy of the gift.”

Boromir shook his head with a frown. “I do not think gifts are necessary.”

Moving back to Boromir’s side, Elrond allowed the fine chain to dangle loosely from his fingers. “I think they are most necessary. And appropriate. Boromir, today you agreed to bend to the will of the council.”

“And I shall hold true to my oath.”

“I have no doubt of it,” Elrond acknowledged. “You, however, who are used to leading and being in control must learn to give up leadership and control. This is no easy thing for a man such as you, who know nothing of submission. While you may hold to your oath, you will resent those who come to make all the decisions.”

The Man nodded his agreement. It was true, what the elf said. He only ever bowed to one man--his father--and even that was tempered. “And this fine bit of jewelry? How will that help me?”

Elrond’s smile grew wider and the twinkle in his eye grew mischievous. “Open your trousers and I shall demonstrate.”

Boromir shook his head. “Nay, Lord Elrond. While I am not averse--”

“Now!”

The command was so unexpected and the force of Elrond’s will so strong that Boromir moved to comply before his mind even registered the fact. It wasn’t until he felt warm hands on his body that he realized what had happened. He was expertly turned so that he was bent over the table and his breeches bunched down around his knees. The first sting of a palm against his bare bottom brought him completely to his senses and he pressed his knuckles to the table and pushed back, trying to move away.

“Be at ease, Boromir of Gondor,” murmured Elrond patiently as he slapped Boromir‘s flesh. “Let me teach you how to submit.”

Humiliation colored Boromir‘s thoughts. “’Tis not something I ever wished to learn.”

His bottom burned and his face felt as red as his arse must have been. Adding to his embarrassment was the reaction of his cock. It stiffened perceptibly and grew heavier with each smack to his bottom.

After a few more whacks, Elrond spun Boromir around to face him. He longed to continue that particular lesson, but he knew that Boromir would only take so much before he revolted. He smiled, however, at Boromir’s obvious discomfort. The man’s cock, contrary to the opinion of his mind and will, had enjoyed the first lesson thoroughly.

Elrond felt the smooth skin, soft as velvet, sliding over the rigid muscle. “There is a lesson beyond intercourse that I wish you to learn.”

Boromir tilted back his head and closed his eyes and the elf’s hand moved expertly over his cock. The fingers grasped him just so, as if already aware of how to touch him without his ever saying anything. If it was Lord Elrond’s intention to teach him something besides the lesson he was learning, Boromir failed to see what it could be.

“For example, I want to show you how to submit so that you may learn control.” Elrond’s hands moved to the base of Boromir’s cock and gave it a light squeeze before releasing it. Moving his hand between the Man’s thighs, he fondled the heavy balls and watched the way Boromir’s stomach muscles clenched beneath his skin. “There is no shame in this.” He spoke quietly, exerting his will over Boromir, bending him gently. With his other hand, he slipped the mithril chain over the head of Boromir’s cock and down the rigid shaft and over the tight sacks between the Man’s legs until it nestled against the darker curls of his pubic hair. A quick twist of his wrist tightened the slip-knot and Boromir gasped a little as the cool metal bit his flesh.

With a wide-eyed stare, Boromir tried to push away Elrond’s hands. “What is this? I am not an animal to be put on a leash.”

“Even if you, yourself, hold the end?” Elrond slipped the end of the chain over Boromir’s head and fastened it around his throat.

The tightening of the chain around his cock felt both painful and pleasant at the same time and Boromir tilted his head a little, experimenting with the odd sensation of the metal around his neck. As he moved his head, he realized that the chain tightened or loosened, according to the position of his head. When he leaned back, the pressure on his cock increased. Leaning forward caused the pressure to slacken, although it was never completely relieved. The ache in his loins increased.

Elrond quickly shoved the heavy cock against Boromir’s belly and laced the leggings once more, making sure they were extra tight. He smiled at Boromir’s soft grunt. “I think it suits you,” he said softly as he leaned forward and put his hands against Boromir’s chest. The warm flesh against his palm made him long to take the Man, right then and there on the table. But his own self-control would not allow it.

“I will not--”

“’Tis already done,” Elrond interrupted. His hands moved so quickly that Boromir never saw them until he felt the warm fingers digging into his scalp. The elf pulled Boromir’s head down until their lips met. He shoved his tongue deeply inside Boromir’s mouth, bruising the full lips, so that their tongues touched. At first, Boromir resisted and then, as the kiss continued, he tried to wrest control from Lord Elrond, but the elf would not give in and he would not relent. Slowly, Boromir began to relax and allow the elf to lead, submitting himself wholly to the kiss. Sensing the Man’s capitulation, Elrond relented some, although he never allowed Boromir any control, and the pressure on the Man’s mouth lessened. He slid his tongue over Boromir’s, gently caressing it with his own, until the Man whimpered.

At last, he broke the kiss and stepped back. Boromir’s eyes were glazed and his face flushed. He nodded once, as if satisfied. “Now, Captain-General, your body belongs to me.”

*~*

Boromir felt ill at ease the rest of the evening. The ache in his loins did not diminish and every turn of his head brought sweat to his forehead. He was certain every one could see the bulge in his breeches and the flush on his cheeks as he sat in the Hall of Fire listening to some tale of Elder Days. His eyes remained narrowed and he seriously contemplated retiring to his quarters and removing the damn chain and pleasuring himself, since the elf refused to do it for him. Yet, one glance in Elrond’s direction stirred the hairs at the back of his neck and he pushed thoughts of mutiny aside.

The other Men of the council retired and even the Hobbits, known for their hardiness, began to drift off to sleep on their stools and still the elves sang. The confinement chaffed Boromir and, when at last he could stand no more, he rose from his chair and made his exit from the chamber. He did not notice the shadow that followed after.

In his room, he closed the door and stood in the center of his suite. His temper was slowly growing. He was angry at Elrond for the strange trick. And he was angry at himself for allowing it to happen. Stripping off his clothes, he tossed them aside, and sat in a chair with his knees splayed. He stared down the length of his flat stomach to his throbbing cock. The plum-colored tip bobbed gently against his belly and his balls felt as hard as rocks. A hand, not his own, reached down and stroked him from base to tip and Boromir nearly climbed out of his skin with shock and pleasure.

“I thought perhaps you might think of defying me,” said Elrond quietly. “You seemed most reluctant to accept our bargain.”

“I’m not certain that it is something I want,” Boromir acknowledged.

“Because you do not know what it is that I give to you,” Elrond settled in between Boromir’s legs. “You have yet to understand either the importance or the significance of this gift.” He fondled Boromir again, squeezing and needing the sacks between the Man’s legs. “As time goes on, you will come to appreciate the sacrifice I have made for you this evening. And you will, also, learn to beg me for more.”

Boromir’s jaw tightened and his eyes narrowed. Before he could speak, however, Elrond grasped his cock and stroked it again, only this time, he established a punishing rhythm that left Boromir grasping and clutching the arms of his chair with both hands. Unthinkingly, he threw back his head and the mithril chain tightened dramatically around his balls and cock and his back arched in response. He tried to relax, but his body refused to cooperate as Elrond’s hand continued its ministrations. Every muscle in his body went rigid and the pressure in his loins increased until he thought he might simply break apart. He trembled and breathed through his mouth as though he’d run a long race. The air in his lungs burned. The chain grew tighter and tighter around him and Boromir cried out in both pleasure and pain. His thigh muscles strained as his legs pushed against the floor and his hips raised from the chair. Lights burst behind his eyes and he screamed out loud as he tried desperately to find his release.

Elrond watched disinterestedly as Boromir’s body reacted. He’d known what would happen, of course, for it had happened to him, that first night. He watched as Boromir reached the very edge of his climax and then stopped. Sitting back on his heels he smiled gently. “That is part of the first lesson,” he said as he climbed to his feet.

Boromir writhed on the chair, feeling as though he might simply disintegrate if he moved to quickly. His ragged breath echoed in his ears and the entire lover half of his body felt aflame. “I do not know if I have the strength for the rest of it,” he panted heavily.

Elrond laughed softly. “You’ll take all I have to give and beg me for more,” he promised as he turned and walked toward the door.

*****

THE END

Go to the sequel to this story: Breaking the Stallion

If you enjoyed this story, please send feedback to: LadyHawksShadow