My first fic! Hope you enjoy:) please leave a review if there's anything I could improve. Thanks for reading!
"No pauses, and no stops" Èomer instructed.
"And no regurgitation!" Gimli laughed looking at the elf realising the task before him.
"So, it's a drinking game?" Legolas queried.
Gimli smiled at him "Last one standing wins.." he chuckled, grasping the tankard of drink. He raised it at the elf and began tackling the ale. The barkeep handed Legolas a tankard, the elf gently bringing the ale closer to his face, he smelt the bitter-sweet liquid and as Gimli had tackled his first cup, Legolas began to drink.
Gimli was barely visible behind his towering stack of empty tankards, his face deep in his cup. His opponent was steadily drinking opposite him. They were deep in contest, and people had gathered to watch the two compete and were cheering with every cup of drink consumed. Èomer stood fascinated, laughing to himself and wondering who would win. The dwarf was now sat as he began staggering around his chair, and did not want the elf to see him struggling to stand. The elf -on the other hand-stood gracefully with ease, not effected by the drink at all. As he drank he look around to see the people cheering them on, and saw Aragon talking to Eowyn, they seemed to be getting along. His attention was drawn to his hands, where his fingers had begin to lose feeling.
"I feel something. A slight tingle in my fingers. I think it's affecting me." He worried.
Èomer glanced, intrigued that an elf can have such effects from ale. Gimli grinned. "Hehehe.. what did I tell ya... He can't hold 'is liquor-" he crashed to the floor. The crowd surrounding then burst with cheering and laughter.
"Game over" the elf exclaimed, with a smile on his face.
"Not yet, my friend." Èomer smiled, stepping up to Gimli's tower of tankards, and grabbing a full cup " let's see if you can beat two of us!" He jested. The crowd jeered to the idea, wanting to see who would be victorious.
The ranger heard the commotion from behind him, and decided to investigate. He approached the crowd and smiled when he saw it: Legolas and Èomer drinking with the biggest grins on their faces. Èomer was almost drunk; he was swaying where he stood, and his voice was jolly. Legolas, next to the horseman, was laughing too. His posture was a little more relaxed than usual, but he looked like he enjoyed the game. The elf's golden hair was slightly disheveled, which was unusual to the Elves, who always looked impeccable. The two had been drinking for a while. Gimli, who had passed out on the hard floor, was now asleep in the corner of the inn, escorted with the help of Eowyn who wished to help any friend of Aragon. The ranger approached the two.
"Who won?" He asked, curious yet amused at the thought of the two bonding over such a dauntless game.
"There is no competition amongst friends, Son of Arathorn." Èomer chuckled. "But as the drinks came, we lost count!" He added.
Legolas nodded in agreement.
"Care to join us, Estel?" Legolas chimed. "You look like you need a drink." He held out a drink for his friend. Aragon looked at his friend, who had brightened up, taking the tankard from his hand.
"We'll never hear the end of it!" He laughed, and took a mouthful of the ale. The inn was jolly, Merry and Pippin were dancing and singing on the tabletops, adding happiness to the room. Frodo and his loyal friend Sam were sat around the long table, singing along with their halfling companions, and Boromir of Gondor was drinking with the Hobbits, whom he'd grown fond of over their quest. This night was a night to remember for the fellowship of the ring. Or was it?
The newly dawned sun shone through the windows of the inn, lighting the dim room.
Legolas sat up, a drumming pain in his head. What had he done the night before? He squinted his eyes, protecting them from the bright light. He saw Estel and Èomer passed out on the floor, their tankards surrounding them, then it came rushing back to him. What a night. He called out:
"Es-Estel?" He groaned at the sound of his own voice. Legolas stood up using the old dark table as support. He approached the men asleep on the ground, tapping the ranger on his shoulder. Instinctively, the man shot up, gritting his teeth with his hand covering his forehead, before looking at the elf. Aragon rubbed his eyes
"Legolas? Wha-" he looked around, remembering the night before. Èomer had awoken, hearing the two. Legolas helped him up.
"Thank you. How are you feeling?" He glanced at the elf.
"My head aches, and the bright lights hurt my eyes, I am unsure why." The elf answered, puzzled.
"We are hungover Legolas. We drank too much ale and now we are being punished." A small smile cracked Aragorn's face. "C'mon, we need to find the others" he instructed. They returned to their quarters, where they would likely find their companions.
"Gimli's going to enjoy this." Estel thought, as the three returned to their friends. Legolas smiled, almost embarrassed at the thought of the dwarf having the last laugh. That's the last time he'd let the dwarf persuade him to drink. He'll never hear the end of it.