Inebriation in Mirkwood Chapter 1, a lord of the rings fanfic

Inebriation in Mirkwood

Disclaimer: not mine, never have been, never will be. All I own are the books, the films on video and DVD, and the film soundtracks.

A/N: Although this is a sort-of prequel to Rain in Rivendell, it doesn't matter which one you read first. This was inspired by a comment from one of my loyal Rain in Rivendell reviewers, mirielle, from a comment made by Thranduil. Tolkien never specified when Legolas was born, but I've always been under the impression that he's a bit younger than the twins (maybe I've just read too many fics depicting him as younger than the twins!) The twins were born in the year 130 of the Third Age, so I'm setting this story in the year 160 TA. By my estimation, it's about 400 miles from Rivendell to Mirkwood. A journey of about 6 days, I reckon.

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Chapter 1

"What does King Thranduil have to say?" inquired Glorfindel.

"He has a son, and the child has been named Legolas," Lord Elrond informed the Balrog slayer. "He has invited some of the occupants of Imladris to his kingdom to partake in celebrations of the child's birth."

"Who is to go?"

"Myself and Celebrían, you, Gildor and Lindir," replied Elrond. "Erestor, despite also receiving an invitation, is needed here and shall be in charge during our absence."

"What of your children?"

"I shall be remaining in Imladris with them," Celebrían informed him. "They are too young to journey so far, particularly on a route fraught with such potential danger."

Glorfindel and Erestor exchanged dubious looks. "I am glad that I will be going to Mirkwood and not remaining in Imladris," Glorfindel muttered to Erestor, who narrowed his eyes at him. Both were convinced that there was far more danger in Imladris than on the road to Mirkwood, courtesy of the twins.

Elrond ignored this; the two in front of him could hardly be blamed for such sentiments, having suffered greatly at the hands of the mischievous twins. In fact, if he was honest with himself, he was anticipating a nice break from his children – after Glorfindel and Erestor, he was the twins' favourite target for their pranks. "We leave early tomorrow," he informed the pair. "My wife has a gift prepared, for she has been working on it ever since we first received news of the coming of this child." He nodded at the two Elf-lords in front of him. "Glorfindel, you may go. Erestor, there are a few minor things I wish to go over with you before I depart."

"As you wish," replied Erestor. He heartily wished that he were travelling to Mirkwood, if only to get away from the twins.

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Elrond had been expecting his parting from his sons (however short) to be painful and full of tears. That notion had gone out of the window the moment he had left his room (and nice warm bed that had the added benefit of his wife still in it). He had pushed open his bedroom door and been promptly drenched from a bucket of icy-cold water that had been wedged there. Immediately afterwards, he tumbled to the floor, courtesy of an abandoned ladder. It had been all the more injurious to his pride when he had realised that his wife had not woken, despite the rather loud noises.

Then there had been the falling sheet (quite how the little brats had managed to attach it to the ceiling and create a mechanism that caused it to descend on him, he had no idea). Then the skipping-rope at ankle height across the doorway of the breakfast-room, which had caused him to tumble into the room in a most undignified manner. Erestor's snickers had served only to worsen the situation. Glorfindel had given him a sympathetic look – clearly he had suffered the same fate, as well as receiving his own drenching, given his wet hair.

No; Elrond was more than happy to be leaving the terror-invoking pair behind for a while. He considered pitying his wife, but then recalled how she never seemed to suffer like he did.

"Elrond? What troubles you?"

The lord of Imladris snapped back to attention. "Nothing, Glorfindel. I am merely thinking how relieved I am to be able to spend a few days not being on constant alert for pranks. I love my sons dearly, really I do, but…"

Glorfindel nodded grimly. "I understand perfectly. What I struggle to understand is how Erestor managed to evade torment while we did not."

"I was wondering the same thing. Perhaps they felt that since we were going away, they would make us suffer before our departure and lull Erestor into a false sense of security, before making him suffer in our absence."

Glorfindel momentarily contemplated this idea, then nodded. "I rather think you are correct in your assumptions."

"I almost feel sorry for him."

"Only almost?"

"He did not attempt to hide his amusement at breakfast, and nor did he make any kind of sympathetic gesture."

"Ah. I see. I suffered much the same."

"Skipping-rope in the doorway?"

Glorfindel nodded. "And a bucket of water over my door. And then there was the apple-pie bed I suffered last night. Complete with apple pie from last night's dessert."

Elrond arched one eyebrow. "I have not had that occur to me – yet."

"Give it time, my lord. With those two, there is always time."

"How true."

"What exactly does this celebration consist of?" inquired Glorfindel, ducking beneath a low branch.

"I have no idea. Hopefully not too many speeches and the like – although you know how fond the King of Mirkwood is of those." Elrond grimaced slightly; he was not a great fan of Thranduil's love of long (and, in his opinion, extremely dull and tedious) speeches. "When the terrible twosome were born we held a great feast, with singing, music and dancing."

"Until Erestor fell off the balcony," Lindir, overhearing, put in.

Glorfindel snickered at the memory. "That was highly amusing. I never did find out how it happened."

"He was attempting to find somewhere quiet and was not paying attention to where he was going," Elrond informed him. "Too busy reading his book. He has not read while walking since then."

"I cannot possibly imagine why," replied Glorfindel drily. "When do you plan on arriving in Mirkwood?"

"In the forest or actually at the palace?"

"At the palace."

"Today is Saturday, so I would be aiming to reach there by Thursday. Friday at the latest, barring any hold-ups or major disasters."

"You had better hope that Lindir's horse does not throw him this time, then," Glorfindel remarked.

"I am on a different mount. Ithil and I did not suit one another; she resents me for some reason. I now ride Alfirin," Lindir informed him.

"A much better match," Glorfindel replied. "Have you the gifts for the child, Elrond?"

"Gildor carries them with his horse in the packs. The rest of us carry food, bedding and other necessities." Elrond smiled wistfully. "How nice it will be to see an Elfling that does not cause absolute mayhem wherever he goes. They are incredibly sweet at that age."

"Give it time," muttered Glorfindel. "It was but thirty years ago when you were saying such things about your own pair of terror-invoking brats."

"You insult my children?" demanded Elrond.

Glorfindel's eyes widened as he realised his mistake. "No, my lord! I was merely commenting upon your tendency to go somewhat misty-eyed and – dare I say it – gooey over small Elflings that are too young to be capable of causing trouble." Unlike your two hellions, he thought to himself, knowing better than to speak such words out loud.

"Oh. Glad to hear it."

They travelled on in silence for some way, concentrating on the path ahead.

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TBC