Inebriation in Mirkwood

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

A/N: in response to something Lucidity mentioned in her review – I completely made up how long it takes Elflings to sleep through the night!! Human babies generally take between 3 and 9 months to do so. As it takes Elves about 150 years to reach full maturity/adulthood, I figured it would take them longer to sleep through the night.

A/N: WOWEEEE!! SIXTEEN reviews for ONE chapter – I LOVE you guys!! (dances madly round the room)

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Chapter 4

It was not long before poor Glorfindel was heartily wishing he were somewhere else. He was on his second glass of wine (having had a glass of water in between the two glasses of wine). Elrond, however, was not.

He was just draining his seventh straight (large) glass of the stuff.

Glorfindel, if you asked for his opinion (not that anyone was forthcoming with such an inquiry), would have said that the lord of Imladris was tipsy.

Elrond hiccuped. Loudly.

Make that drunk, the Balrog slayer mentally corrected himself, wincing. Elrond, seated next to him, had hiccuped right in Glorfindel's ear. The hiccup was promptly followed by a highly unpleasant belch. Glorfindel wanted to move to the other end of the table. It was fortunate, he reflected grimly, that Thranduil was engaged in a rather engrossing conversation with Orophin on the spider population of Mirkwood.

Glorfindel turned to speak to Elrond, just as the latter reached out with an erratically-wavering arm. The blond Elf suspected that his lord wanted the wine pitcher. "Perhaps you would like some water this time, mellon nîn?" he suggested, grabbing hold of Elrond's arm and forcing it back to resting on the table.

Elrond shook his head firmly, body swaying from side to side. "Noo-ooo. I do not desire w…w…whassit called 'gain?" He hiccuped.

"Water," Glorfindel replied. He beckoned to a nearby servant. "Please fetch Lord Elrond a glass of water. A large glass. Several glasses if you can."

The servant bit back a grin of amusement. "Several glasses can be done."

"Good. And the sooner the better, I think."

The servant scuttled off. Glorfindel fancied he faintly heard the servant erupting into laughter the moment he left the Great Hall. He didn't blame him.

The servant soon reappeared with the requested water in a large pitcher and a clean glass. Glorfindel thanked him as he removed the wineglass.

"Let us partake in some joyous song!" declared Lindir (who, despite being on his sixth glass of wine, appeared to be unaffected by the stuff, having developed a tolerance for it). "With your permission, of course, Your Majesty," he added hurriedly, turning to Thranduil.

Thranduil waved his hand in his general direction. "Go ahead, go ahead. It all adds to the celebrations, after all." He stood, and waved to silence the gathered Elves. "Does anyone wish to sing?"

A pause, then Haldir rose. "If I may?" he said politely. At Thranduil's nod of approval, he began.

Glorfindel, however, was unable to pay much attention to the song. Elrond had just managed to completely misjudge the position of his glass in relation to where he held up the water pitcher.

His best outfit was drenched.

Glorfindel winced.

Elrond hiccuped.

Glorfindel again prayed to the Valar to remove him from this horrifically embarrassing situation.

Then it got worse.

Elrond, swaying from side to side, clumsily got to his feet. Haldir, distracted, stopped singing. Elrond held up his finger. "I have a shong as well," he slurred.

Thranduil attempted to mask his panic. "Perhaps you could allow Haldir to finish first?" he suggested diplomatically.

Elrond shook his head emphatically. "Nnnnoo-oooo. I can't. My shong ish far more sh-sh-shuperior." He hiccuped. After a brief pause as he collected his thoughts, he began. (1)

"I went to an ale-house I used to frequent; (hiccup)

I shaw evil Saurrrron, all his money was shpent. (hiccup)

He ashked me to play,

I anshwered him 'Nay'; (hiccup)

Shaid, 'Rubbishhhh like yoursh I could beat any day –"

He broke off with a cry as someone (it later transpired to be an extremely annoyed Haldir) threw water over him. Then he hiccuped.

Glorfindel stood and shoved him, somewhat unceremoniously, back into his seat. "And stay there!" he hissed furiously. Elrond merely blinked blearily up at him and Glorfindel sighed wearily. This was going to be a long day.

And it was still only lunchtime.

Haldir cleared his throat and continued on from where he had been so rudely interrupted. Glorfindel allowed himself to relax after having poured Elrond some water (he did not trust the intoxicated lord of Imladris to carry out the task himself). All was well for ten minutes, and Haldir, Orophin and Lindir sang (the latter of which was a merry song about summer).

Then Elrond got to his feet again.

Thranduil could not prevent the cringe from spreading across his face.

Lindir bit down hard on his fork.

Glorfindel screwed up his eyes and silently begged the Valar to send him another Balrog to battle. Or that the floor would open up and that he could slip through it. Or perhaps Elrond could slip through it. Yes, that could work.

"I jusht want to shay…" began Elrond, swaying violently as he stood.

The gathered Elves listened. And waited.

"I juuuusht wanted to shay…"

Thranduil looked rather annoyed and impatient by this point. "Yes?"

"I – I jusht wanted to shay…" Elrond broke off, then, frowned in confusion as he looked at Glorfindel. "Wha' did I jusht want to shay?"

"That you were going to retire to bed because you felt unwell," put in Glorfindel firmly, hoping that it would escape Elrond's notice that Elves did not suffer illness. Though they did suffer hangovers.

"I did?"

"Yes. You did."

"Oh. Welllllll, as I shaid that I will do that, I shall retire to bed." He attempted to turn and was only just caught in time by Glorfindel and Thranduil as he lost his balance. The latter assisted the former in restoring Elrond to an upright position, though he still swayed rather too much. Thranduil caught Glorfindel's eye. "Perhaps you should ensure that he reaches his room," he murmured to the Balrog slayer.

Glorfindel nodded grimly. "Oh, I shall. Believe me I shall. I dare not leave him alone until he is safely in his room. I think I shall lock him in if it is at all possible to do so."

"Call a servant and they will provide you with a key."

"Thank you, Your Majesty."

Thranduil smiled wryly. "It is no problem. He will, though, have the most almighty hangover tomorrow – I believe that is what Men refer to such things as, is it not?"

"It is." Glorfindel smirked. "Oh, I shall enjoy informing him of this tomorrow – or whenever he is sufficiently recovered." He straightened. "Come, mellon nîn. Let us get you to bed." He threw Elrond's arm around his shoulder and placed his own arm around Elrond's waist while hanging on with his other hand to the arm that was slung over his shoulders.

He gritted his teeth. He had not entirely anticipated Elrond's weight and was now suffering for it. But not as much as Elrond will hopefully suffer tomorrow, he thought rather uncharitably to himself. He straightened up and, amid the stares from numerous guests, began hauling Elrond from the room. Elrond was reluctant to move, but a none-too-gentle nudge from Thranduil got him moving. Unfortunately for Glorfindel, Elrond's level of inebriation was such that the lord of Imladris – who really should know better, thought Glorfindel irritably – was unable to walk straight.

'Staggered' was probably a better description of his movements. It took substantially longer to cross the room than it would normally have done, as Glorfindel had little choice but to partially follow Elrond (until he strayed too far from their course). The blond Elf had to keep tugging Elrond to keep him going in (roughly) the correct direction. And his clothes, thanks to Elrond's inability to pour himself a glass of water, were beginning to get distinctly damp. And if Glorfindel hated, it was being wet. That had not always been the case; thirty years ago it had not been a problem.

Then the twins had been born. Memories of being soaked at bathtime, being pulled into the bath, being knocked into rivers and lakes during outings and, more recently (since they had discovered the skill of climbing and the joy – or otherwise, depending on who you asked – of ladders), being drenched from buckets above doors, flashed through Glorfindel's mind. He could recall loving being out in the rain on border patrol, particularly thunderstorms, because of the wonderful washed, clean smell that always permeated the world afterwards.

Now, though, thanks to the terrible two, he hated the rain.

Glorfindel was vaguely aware of someone singing, but his attention was too focused on Elrond to pay enough attention to it.

Elrond hiccuped.

He had been in mid-step and promptly fell to the floor.

Glorfindel was dragged down with him.

The Balrog slayer groaned. Taking a deep breath to prevent himself from losing his temper, he disentangled himself from Elrond before gritting his teeth and hauling the lord of Imladris to his feet. They were so close to the door now!

"Wan' a driiiiiink," Elrond mumbled, stumbling.

Glorfindel caught him just in time. "You can have a drink of water when we get you to your bedroom," he said firmly.

"Wan' wiiiiiiine," Elrond whined, like a petulant child.

So that's where the twins get that whining trait, mused Glorfindel. This sort of information, if stored and used tactically, could prove to be very useful indeed.

He breathed a sigh of relief as he reached the door. A servant opened it for them and ushered them through. He could do it. He could get Elrond to his room, lock him in and return to the party. No problem.

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TBC

To the traditional folk tune of Wild Rover

Author thanks:

Prettyfoot, Haldir's Heart and Soul, crazy-haldir-fancier, Deana, anticipationnation, banana nut muffin (for reviewing all 3 chapters in one go!), Radioactive Bubblegum

A Monkey's Harp: looks like I'm doing my job, then!

Lord Elrond of Hogwarts: hold on there! I've got to do Haldir and brothers tormenting Glorfindel in Lórien! And you'd only bolt the door 5 times? I'd bolt it at least 25 times!!

Lady of the Twilight Woods: I agree – I'm horribly cruel to him!

Aerlalaith: it certainly isn't Elrond's day – and it's not over yet!

Lucidity: fate? I am fate in this fic!

Lutris: I couldn't resist Trademarking Elrond's Looks – Hugo Weaving is brilliant at them (particularly anything involving The Eyebrows)!

Mirielle: I'm going to write the story! Promise! However, I've got a Harry Potter fic to type up, another one to continue typing up (it's got about 30 chapters), another one to continue writing, a prequel to Why? AND a sequel to Why? to do as well. Patience!

Ak-stinger: Maybe Glorfindel should have known – but be kind; he's not used to baby Elflings! And a new reviewer! Yay!

Uineniel: I shall inquire no further about certain comments made about a certain Balrog slayer (no, not you, Gandalf). Also, please enlighten me as to the meaning of your name; I'm curious.