Prompt: Drowning in Wine

Rating: T (for mentions of drinking)

Setting: Second Age pre Battle Dagorlad

Characters: Thranduil, Oropher, Mírdis (OC)

Summary: Thranduil is a sloppy drunk; Oropher admires his family and waxes philosophical. The Queen is done with them both.

"I feel like I'm drowning in wine."

"There are worse things to drown in," Oropher stated matter of factly though there was a smile on his lips as he looked fondly down at his drunken son who lay in a heap at their feet.

Mírdis did not feel nearly as charitable as her husband and she shot him a reproving look. "Do not encourage Thranduil's foolish behaviour Hervenn. It is most unbecoming for one of his station."

Oropher gave a hearty laugh, both at his wife's disapproval and at Thranduil's confused and gormless expression as he tried and failed to sit up. Their son had been dragged into them by his bodyguard Duron – a completely legless wreck after a day spent drinking with friends in the Red Acorn public house. After one too many trips Duron had deemed it time to return the Crown Prince to the palace, to sleep off the worst of his excesses, but Thranduil had caught sight of his parents sitting in Mírdis' rose garden en-route and had demanded Duron leave him there instead. The Avari bodyguard who was thoroughly fed up hefting Thranduil's bulk around had been all too happy to oblige and so his son found himself moaning over his excess intake of wine before them.

"I am not unbecoming Nana," Thranduil slurred miserably as he turned puppy eyes to Mírdis. "I did nothing wrong I promise."

Oropher laughed again as his son clumsily crawled his way over to cling to his wife's legs and placed his head in her lap. Thranduil was an affectionate drunk.

"Too right you didn't," Oropher assured his offspring before he turned to Mírdis. "You are too harsh on the boy Hervess; no one will think any less of him for getting a bit drunk. If anything, it will show the people he is one of them – which is just what is needed right now with war looming."

Oropher reached over to stroke Thranduil's ash blonde tresses so like his own before he gave Mírdis' hand a loving pat. "And anything could go ill in said war. Let the boy enjoy his wine whilst he might Meleth-nin, it may well be the last time he gets to do so this side of the Seas."

Mírdis gave an emphatic roll of her striking silver eyes, "You spoil the boy," she scolded though there was no heat in her tone as her own hand idled in the silken locks of Thranduil's hair. "And don't give me all that morbid 'we're off to war' stuff as an excuse. You should be firmer – he'll develop an awful habit if you let him carry on this way." Mírdis had dropped her voice to a soft whisper to avoid disturbing her son who was now snoring ever so softly in her lap.

"Thranduil is an elf – elves don't develop things like 'habits' – he'll be just fine."

Mírdis said nothing this time, only shook her head at her husband and stroked the flushed cheek of the intoxicated and bedraggled mess that was her son - the tiniest of smiles creeping to her lips.

Oropher beamed at the scene the pair made, committing it firmly to memory; for no matter how Mírdis brushed it off war was all but upon them and when it finally came the happy times such as this would be few and far between. Oropher would take what he could get now and savour it.

Thranduil may have drowned himself in wine but Oropher just then was drowning in his own heady mixture of happiness, contentment and love.

END.

Hervenn – Husband

Nana – Mamma (Mommy)

Hervess – Wife

Meleth-nin – My Love

Prompt Credit: THEFAKEREDHEAD . COM

A/N: Just a silly, little tale to hopefully bring a smile to your face in these anxious and strange days. Drop me a one liner if you feel like it and let me know what you think. Take care and stay safe out there!