Thranduil was staring at the goblets in front of him in deep concentration. Gildor could not hide a grin when he saw his young beloved lift a hand to count not only the two vessels present, but obviously more of them.
Oh dear, is he already seeing double? High time to call this a night, I suppose. Gildor put a hand on Thranduil’s shoulder, startling him, but getting a smile of silly happiness in return when he was recognised.
“Gi’dor! I was beginning to miss yuh.”
“I was here all the time, my friend,” Gildor remarked dryly. “It looks as if you have not missed much else, though. Your speech is nearly as bad as when you were injured, which means you have had more than enough. Let us find somewhere more private for the reminder of the night, shall we?”
“A’right. You a’ways know wa’s best Gi’dor. This is goin’ to be the best night o’ my life!”
Thranduil now practically beamed and slung his arms around Gildor to give him another, more thorough kiss.
Gildor laughed, kissed Thranduil back and then helped him up, holding fast onto his arm when he nearly lost his balance with another giggle.
“Come on then, my dear. If this is true, we should make the best of it.”
Temperance was something Thranduil would need to learn for such occasions, but all in good time. Fate had dealt him a difficult hand already, and it was not the place of his lover to begrudge him any fun he wanted to have! His father might not be amused if he found out Thranduil had been so tipsy in public that he openly displayed his affections. But, on the other hand, Oropher was always so very keen about social advancement, and meeting the right people, that he could not very well object to his son being invited to a private dinner by the king. Such an invitation was a high honour, and you did not simply dine with Gil-galad and remain sober.
Linking arms with his beloved, Gildor gave thanks for the good fortune that had given them adjoining rooms and a connecting door, and steered Thranduil discreetly outside, not minding the occasional stop for a quick kiss or a furtive grope.
I must remember to thank Elrond for having a hand in this, he thought. Come to think of it, I suppose I must also thank him for putting in a good word for us with the steward to give us these rooms, and for sending Oropher away.
The young Ëarendilion would make a good leader one day if he was already capable of this degree of ‘organisation’… his foster fathers had certainly taught him well!