Inebriation in Mirkwood

Disclaimer: don't own them. Never have done. Never will do.

A/N: all facial expressions mentioned in this chapter belong to Elrond and as such are Trademarked

A/N 2: little baby Legolas puts in an appearance here!!

Author thanks at bottom.

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Chapter 2

By some minor miracle, they all arrived in Mirkwood without incident ("For what must be the first time ever," Elrond muttered to Glorfindel). The party from Imladris was met by guards at the border and they were escorted into Thranduil's palace. None of the guards spoke to them; they recognised all the Elves – and none dared challenge Elrond.

Thranduil was awaiting them, and crossed the throne room in a few short strides, a warm smile upon a face that more commonly wore a frown (Thranduil was adamant that it was his concentrating-and-deep-in-thought expression, and it was perhaps not far removed from Elrond's own expression of the same nature). "Welcome, folk of Imladris. You have made good time; the Lórien contingent are yet to arrive – Haldir, Orophin and Rúmil sent a message in advance to inform me that they were late in departing."

"All three of them are coming?" hissed Glorfindel in Elrond's pointed ear, a distinct note of panic in his voice. He had not forgotten the last time he had visited Lothlórien – the three brothers had managed to completely humiliate him (in front of the Lord and Lady of the Golden Wood, no less). The Balrog slayer had no doubts whatsoever that they would be an incredibly bad influence on the already-mischievous twin sons of Elrond. Valar save us all, he thought desperately.

Elrond merely nodded, mouth set in a grim line. Glorfindel did not doubt that he was having nearly identical thoughts to himself. It was not really a comforting thought, were he honest with himself.

Thranduil inquired after their journey and requested that a servant show the guests their quarters. The instant they were beyond even Elven earshot of Thranduil, Glorfindel let out a moan of despair. "We are surely doomed, mellon nîn, if that trio are indeed going to be in attendance!"

"Come, Glorfindel. They surely are not as bad as you make them out to be," responded Elrond. He was, however, unsure as to whom exactly it was that he was attempting to convince.

"Alone, no; it is when they are together that they are to be feared!"

"Do not think of such things for as long as you can help it," advised Elrond. "Otherwise I fear I shall not sleep tonight for paranoia. Put those thoughts out of your mind!"

"I have tried. Believe me, I have tried!"

"It will be dinner soon; think of that instead."

Glorfindel's blue eyes widened, and he squawked in horror. Elrond, having not been present on the occasion of his friend's 'complete humiliation', was alarmed at this reaction. "Was it something I said?" he asked in total bewilderment.

Glorfindel nodded violently, his fine golden hair flying up to form a halo around his head. "T-t-that trio…dinner…Lórien…" he choked out, before turning and fleeing into the room that the servant indicated that he was to be staying in for the duration of his visit. The door shut with a loud, emphatic bang.

Elrond raised one well-marked eyebrow. "I see," he remarked to nobody in particular.

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Dinner that evening passed with no notable occurrence. Elrond put this down to the absence of the Lothlórien contingent. Glorfindel had been reasonably calm, but how long that would last remained to be seen.

The baby was with his mother, Olwen, and was quite sleepy, Thranduil informed them, so they would not be meeting him that day.

"How are your sons?" Thranduil inquired of Elrond when all but the aforementioned pair and Glorfindel had retired to bed.

"They fare well – if a little mischievous at times," replied the lord of Imladris wryly.

"That, mellon nîn, is putting it a little mildly," muttered Glorfindel darkly. "Causing absolute, complete and utter havoc, mayhem, chaos and devastation wherever they go, would be a more accurate description."

Elrond cleared his throat loudly. "Excuse me." He shot one of his Death Glares (™) (as the twins called the expression) at Glorfindel, who subsided. "Their personalities are become more distinct every day. Elladan is, more often than not, the leader of the two, and Elrohir is the more sensible one. Slightly only, I hasten to add. Both have more than the usual troublemaking streak that one would see in Elves – even in Elflings. It makes for…interesting…times in Imladris these days." He discreetly kicked Glorfindel's ankle as a warning to not disclose the last acts of mischief that had been inflicted upon them just prior to their departure.

Glorfindel rose. "I have a sudden urge to acquaint myself with an extremely comfortable-looking bed for the night." A (distinctly inelegant) yawn added substance to his proclamation.

"Worry not about rising early for breakfast; although it is usual that we eat early, you are no doubt weary from your travels and may need to rest longer," said Thranduil.

Glorfindel nodded. "Maer fuin, Your Majesty." He left the room.

Elrond also rose. "I think I too shall retire. Maer fuin, Thranduil."

"Likewise. Sleep well, and do not miss your sons too much."

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The party from Lothlórien arrived two days later. In total, there were ten Elves, three of which were the trio of brothers that Glorfindel so feared. The poor Balrog slayer knew not who to fear more – the Lothlórien trio, or the Imladris twins.

Orophin presented Elrond with a number of small, carefully-wrapped parcels in a strong, yet delicate-seeming, finely embroidered bag. "The bag is for your wife, and the gifts for your children, from Lord Celeborn and Lady Galadriel," he informed the lord of Imladris. "There is also, I understand, a gift for yourself."

Elrond took it. "Thank you, Orophin. I shall see that they are received." Celeborn and Galadriel were, after all, his in-laws, and the twins their grandsons. Elrond just hoped that Orophin and his brothers had not supplied the twins with their own gifts. Perhaps they were the ones to 'advise' the twins on placing rope at ankle-height across a doorway, he thought suspiciously. It might be an idea to go through the gifts before the twins laid their hands upon them. When one was the father of Elladan and Elrohir, one could never, in Elrond's experiences so far, be too careful.

"Who has accompanied you from Rivendell?" asked Orophin with polite interest.

"Lindir, Gildor and Glorfindel. Erestor received an invitation, but he is needed to look after affairs during my absence. My wife, also in receipt of an invitation, chose to remain at home with the twins."

"And how are they faring?"

Elrond's eyes narrowed. "The entire population of the Rivendell Valley is permanently on full alert and wary of them due to all the mischief they have carried out."

All three brothers averted their gaze. Orophin focused on the architecture of the palace, Rúmil began whistling and Haldir averted his stare to a point just above Elrond's shoulder.

"You three would not, by any small glimmer of a chance, happen to know anything about that, would you?"

"Lord Elrond, you wound me!" exclaimed Orophin. "You wound all of us!"

"Hmmm."

"The Lord and Lady send their best wishes and blessings to all in Imladris," put in Rúmil (ever the diplomat) hastily, in an attempt to smooth over the situation.

"Thank you. And I return them." He was prevented from further speech by a squeal of delight from Lindir, who stood nearby. Turning to see the cause of such behaviour (seeing as there was a lack of twins, who were usually at the root of this kind of noise), Elrond was unable to prevent himself from smiling widely. Thranduil stood in the doorway with Olwen at his side, a small bundle in her arms.

"Is that the baby?" asked Orophin with interest, a sudden gleam in his blue eyes, which mirrored the gleams in his brothers' eyes. Elrond had seen this gleam before and swallowed – hard. He knew all too well what it meant.

Thranduil nodded, a silly grin upon his usually serious face. "Meet Prince Legolas, Orophin of Lórien."

"He must visit my home when he is old enough. My brothers and I have much to teach him," replied Orophin sincerely.

Elrond somehow managed to bite back the squawk of disbelief and scepticism that was threatening. He caught Thranduil's eye, and the Mirkwood King raised one eyebrow. "Indeed? We shall see." He glanced around the small gathering of Elves, his blue-eyed gaze coming to rest on an unaware Glorfindel (his attention was focused on a beautiful painting hanging on the wall). "Glorfindel, perhaps you would like to hold him?"

Glorfindel's eyes widened and he gulped. "Your Majesty…I – I have only limited experience with children…I fear I may do him some harm…"

A smile of amusement played at the corner of Thranduil's lips. "But surely this is an opportunity to learn? Elrond, my wife and myself are all here. No harm shall come to you. He is a well-behaved Elfling."

"I – er…"

Elrond moved behind him, preventing the Balrog slayer from taking further steps backwards. Glorfindel sighed in resignation; he was not going to win this battle. "Very well," he sighed reluctantly, awkwardly accepting the child.

Unfortunately, he had not thought to take precautions. The oh-so-innocent-looking Elfling reached out a perfect, tiny hand and grasped a lock of Glorfindel's fine, long, golden hair.

He yanked.

Hard.

"OUCH!" cried Glorfindel in pain. Legolas grinned and proceeded to tug harder. Poor Glorfindel howled in agony and used the sort of language that one would more usually find coming from the mouth of an Orc (and the sort of language that the twins were, naturally, desperate to learn). "Your Maj – OW! – esty, please – OWWWWW! – could you – OW! – remove you son – OUCH! – from my arms before I – OWWW! – am rendered hairless – OWWWWCH! – by him?"

Thranduil sighed. "If you insist."

"I do. Most vehem – OW OW OW OW OW! – vehemently!"

Thranduil kindly relieved Glorfindel of the Elfling, who appeared most put out at the removal of his amusement. "Perhaps we should adjourn to the Great Hall?" he suggested. "It is, after all, almost time for the celebration feast."

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TBC

Author thanks:

Prettyfoot, Karri, Lady of the Twilight Woods

A Monkey's Harp: Thanks for the travel tips!! However, there are apparently some cross-country horse-riding events that cover up to 100 miles in a day, and remember that these are Elven horses…(I'm working on that premise).

Lucidity: you've got your wish to see little Legolas!! And in all honesty, I expect that very few, if any, punishments will have any long-term effect on the twins!!

Coolio02: don't panic! I'm continuing!! I've written it all (I never post anything until I know it's finished) – I just have to post it.

Mirielle: but of course Elrond can insult them and Glorfindel can't - Elrond, as their father, is perfectly entitled to complain!! ;) Hope you enjoy this chapter!!

Radioactive Bubblegum: --accepts Pixy Stix and gives Fizzing Whizzbees as bribery for more reviews for future chapter--

Also to Lutris and Lord Elrond of Hogwarts (via e-mail when the review windows weren't working)

Elvish translations:

mellon nîn – my friend

maer fuin – good night

Olwen – dream-maiden

(from, as always, the Council of Elrond website)