A Rivendell Regatta, Mirkwood Style

Disclaimer: All recognizable people, places, events, and concepts are the property of the J.R.R. Tolkien Estate.

~*~~*~~*~

Chapter 2~*~Paddlers and Boats

Aldandil flipped through the papers he held, a pleased smile gracing his face. On top of the stack was the set agenda for the boat races, spanning a full three days. Under this were sheets filled with the names of participants. The turnout had been better than expected, and the young Elf perused the lists, grinning at a few of the unlikely teams that had been formed.

 "Those aren't letters, are they?" an incredulous voice asked, and Aldandil looked up to see a widely grinning Meril coming his way. The light-haired young maiden slid an arm through one of his own, peering at the heading scrawled across one paper, "Oh, good. I was rather worried that you were going to spend the next few days in that summerhouse pouring over them." She took the sheets handed to her, shuffling through them, "Haven't you signed up, Aldan? I don't see your name."

"I still have to ask Nimaron if he'll race with me. Legolas said he is a very good boater," Aldandil took the papers back, slapping them against a leg as he continued to walk across the bridge, "And then I need to find one more person, as we need someone to paddle on the right, someone on the left, and someone to steer through the rapids."

Meril laughed then, leaning closer to Aldandil as they walked and looking up at him with a glint in her grey eyes, "Why, Aldan, I can race with you!"

~*~

Legolas sat on the bench, anxiously peering around the large room. His friends' voices echoed off the far walls since there were not many people in the spacious dining hall at the moment. The long tables had been covered in threadbare old sheets, and he could see Master Rossion and another training instructor placing pots of paint and brushes on the empty tables at the other side of the room. It was not very often that group training was cancelled in favor of activities like this, but the recent summer festivities had upset the routine, and since there was nothing planned for the children this evening a morning of fun had seemed appropriate.

The Elfling picked up the small wooden boat in front of himself, turning it in his hands. The wood was finally smooth after several rubbings with sandpaper, and he knew how he wanted it to look when it was finished.

"What does yours look like?" Arasil leaned across the table, pushing his own boat forward for Legolas to see. The dark-haired Elfling turned the other child's craft in his hands, then passed it back, "They are quite a lot the same."

"They won't be after they're painted," the blond Elfling on Legolas' left spoke up, his own boat protectively held in one hand. Cúran looked at the other children, "I'm going to make mine blue."

"Mine will be green, and I think I want a yellow stripe here," Legolas ran a finger along the side of his boat, "Or maybe white. I don't know yet."

Arasil leaned further forward on the table in an effort to speak with his friends, "I'm painting mine red. Bright red. And I'm going to call it the Dragon." He stopped talking as another group of children were led in and to a table, each carrying a small wooden boat. Anyone not old enough to race in real boats was allowed to enter a toy one, and soon enough the room was filled with young Elves. There were toddlers barely old enough to lift a spoon balanced on their parents' knees, boys nearly old enough to go on hunts, and little girls with their hair carefully tied back.

"I will call mine the Green Leaf," Legolas pronounced, looking at Arasil and Cúran for approval, "It's going to be green, and leaves float on top of the water."

"You can't name a boat after a person, especially not yourself," Arasil sighed, twirling a brush around in his fingers.

Cúran nodded fiercely, "Yes he can. My ada named our boat my nana. I'm going to call mine the Crescent. You could call yours the Deer."

"I'm not calling it that," Arasil gave Cúran a grin. Nobody would call a boat the Deer. He tossed his boat into the air, catching it in his hands, "I'm going to call it the Dragon, because it will fly right over the water. And because it will be red."

~*~

Aldandil stopped abruptly, meeting Meril's sparkling eyes. Several maidens had signed up to participate in the boat races, but he was not sure of what he thought about Meril entering. The rapids were especially swift and turbulent in some places, and he certainly did not want her getting thrown or dumped out of a boat. He wasn't even sure if he wanted her splashed. He had pictured her sitting with her parents on the bridge, watching for his boat and waving as he rowed under it. Afterwards there would be celebrating on the banks, and he had already imagined her teasing him over his wet hair and rubbing hard at his head with a towel.

But then, the idea of racing with Meril was rather pleasing. It would mean spending a good three or four hours with her on the river, and during the slower stretches they would be able to talk. He regarded her beaming face for a moment, truly wondering for a split second what she might look like drenched. Maybe he would not like her splashed, but a dripping wet Meril might not be so very bad.

"You really would like to?" he asked, smiling and deciding to tease her, "And you think you can keep up with Nim and me?"

"Of course I can!" Meril nearly laughed, then quieted. She leaned again to rest her head on his shoulder, already looking forward to the day on the river. There would be good talk with him and Nimaron, and the exhilaration of bouncing through rapids and paddling through swift water would be doubled if enjoying it with Aldandil. She stole a glance at his pleased face, a suppressed smile spreading over her lips as she imagined his silver hair hanging around it in dripping strands. "I think we shall have a very nice time together. Let's go talk to Nimaron now."

~*~

"No red?" Arasil looked up at Eirien, then glanced around the room. After searching for an untaken pot of the color himself, he had finally asked the lady if there was any available.

"I'm afraid not," Eirien shook her head, searching through the box of paint jars on the table. She lifted a pot for the child's approval, "We have got this though. It's almost red."

Arasil took the pot into his own hands, staring into the liquid inside. There was a lot of it in there, and it was not hard to tell why. The color was not exactly appealing; it was just the right mix of red and orange to be rather distasteful.

"It looks sort of pink," Legolas commented, kneeling on the bench to better see Arasil's work.

"No it doesn't," Arasil responded tartly, brushing the paint over the surface of his boat. The boat looked better without that horrible color. Why couldn't it be red? All morning he had made plans for his perfect boat, able to picture the bright, gleaming red on the surface of the water, bits of white and gold catching the sun. The Elfling sullenly swirled his brush around in the paint again, looking at Cúran and Legolas' boats nearby. The Green Leaf looked splendid, and the Crescent was coming along nicely.

Gooey paint dripped off Arasil's brush and onto the faded sheet on the table. It wasn't fair that their boats should turn out so wonderful, or that they should get to name them after themselves. The dark-haired Elfling smoothed paint over the surface of his own boat, rather sorry that he had ever started covering it in the color.

He would have to call it the Deer. The Very Ugly Orange-Red-Pink Deer.

~*~

Nimaron looked at the two faces that stared at his own, surprised at the expectancy in the two sets of eyes. He pushed a jar of healing paste onto the shelf behind him, putting down the sheet of paper he was taking inventory on, "Why do you want me to race with you?" Surely Aldandil and Meril had young friends of their own they would rather race with.

"Legolas said that you were a very good boater," Aldandil pointed out, and then added, in case the healer thought it silly of him to base his selection on the testimony of an Elfling, "And you are our friend, Nim. We thought you might like it."

"All right," Nimaron nodded, pleased that they would ask him because they considered him a friend. Their faces lit up considerably, and he headed towards the door with them, "I was surprised when your father announced the races, Aldandil. There are really stretches of the Forest River suitable for them? And you have got a good boat?"

Aldandil nodded, "Of course. We've mapped out the perfect course on the river; there are some lovely views along the way. You can come and see the boat later this afternoon; Rhosalch agreed to set it out in one of the large rooms near the armory so that we could make sure it is fit for the races."

Nimaron smiled to himself as the young couple left the room, returning to his task. It would be pleasant to boat again, and Aldandil had mentioned that there were nice views along the way. He had really not seen much of the Wood, and he wondered if it would look something like Imladris, or completely different.

~*~

Thranduil walked into the large dining hall with his wife, surprised at how many children had actually arrived with their little boats. The activities seemed to be over for the most part, and now adults and children were carefully carrying the small crafts to a covered table along one wall. Already the table was nearly full, tiny boats in various colors sitting on top of it. Most were green and white and yellow, the colors often chosen for real boats, but a good number were red or blue, and there was an occasional odd colored one here and there.

"Ada, look at mine!" Legolas pointed urgently towards the middle of the table when he saw his parents, "Guess which one it is."

Thranduil looked from his paint splattered child to the table, wondering which of the many little boats his son's was. The paint on his Elfling was a forest-y green and there was a good deal of white and gold on his fingers. The king turned back to the table, effectively finding and pointing at the toy boat painted in colors that matched, "Is it that one?"

"Yes!" Legolas exclaimed, nodding. How Ada had managed to guess in only one try was beyond him. He pointed to the little boats next to his own, "That blue one is Cúran's, and the orange is Arasil's."

"They are all very nice," Thranduil glanced to the two Elflings standing with Legolas near the table, noting the truly pleased look that came over Cúran's face at the comment and the sullen way Arasil continued to stare at the little boats. It was unusual for the child to look so gloomy, especially when something fun was happening. "Is something the matter, Arasil?"

"No," Arasil looked at King Thranduil, not wanting to contradict Legolas' father even with the truth, with the fact that his own boat was not 'very nice' at all.

"His boat is that bad color, Ada," Legolas whispered carefully, pointing again to the bright orange-y toy on the table.

Cúran patted Arasil's stiff shoulder as the other child tried to shrug him away, "He wanted red, but it was all gone."

"Silly Elflings," Thranduil ruffled Arasil's dark hair on his way out of the room, smiling, "That color dries a most brilliant shade of red." 

~*~

"What are you doing to it?!"

Nimaron stared at the overturned boat in front of him, watching as Aldandil and Meril spread a sort of sticky black tar over the bottom. It was a beautiful boat, expertly fashioned from several joined pieces of wood and painted over in a deep green edged with silver. Now the entire bottom of it was covered in the drying goop, and the two young Elves were using flattened bits of wood to pile on more.

"It is to protect it," Aldandil explained, smoothing out a lump of pitch, "It keeps the water from getting in through the bottom, and it will help shield the wood if we go over any rocks."

"Yes," Meril nodded, looking up at Nimaron with a grin, "It wouldn't be very good if we scratched up the bottom."

Nimaron watched at the couple continued to tar the surface, beginning to get worried, "Scratch up the bottom? I thought you said that the water we were going to race through was suited well for such a thing."

"Of course it is," Aldandil paused in his work to glance at the healer, "We chose a stretch with a low bank at the beginning so that we can get the boats in, and then it runs through a few good, fast stretches and some especially nice rapids before slowing down near the bridge. After that it speeds up again and we can turn hard onto another low bank where there is some nice sand."

"And there are the falls," Meril put in, patting another glob of pitch onto the boat, "I wish they were bigger though, Aldan. Only three feet. That is hardly more than a little bump."

"Aldandil!" Nimaron managed to capture the younger Elf's full attention, "You had me under the impression that this was going to be a regatta!"

"It is a regatta," Aldandil responded, a little confused, "We are racing boats."

"In rapids!" Nimaron exclaimed, "A regatta is on smooth water, with rowers."

Aldandil gave the healer a long look, his brow creased. Rowing boats on smooth water? What kind of race was that supposed to be? He smiled then, picking up the pot of pitch and daubing more onto the boat, "Our race will be much more fun than that, Nim. Just wait and see."

"I've never boated in water like that!" Nimaron pointed to the small bit of the Forest River that he could see out of the window in the room. The idea of anyone boating in such water for the pure enjoyment of it was unbelievable, and the fact that they were going to race in it was something he would have never imagined on his own. He stared at Aldandil and Meril a moment. King Thranduil was letting his son race on that river? And a young maiden? "You can't race on that!"

"Of course we can," Meril laughed, "Aldan and I have been boating forever and ever."

"You'll love it," Aldandil grinned, patting the healer heartily on the back, "We can practice as soon as this dries. Trust me, as soon as you have gone with us, you will never want to race on those dull stretches again."

Nimaron stared at the pitch-covered boat, visions of people being dumped into frothy water and hitting their heads on jagged rocks drifting quickly into his mind. Rapids, white water, three-foot falls.

Dull stretches were good. Very, very good.

~*~~*~~*~

Responses to Reviewers

*Dragon-of-the-North: I don't know about you, but I can see Thranduil getting just a tad irritated in any situation where he does not have much control. *g*

Yes, there is Aldandil romance, though it will not get very mushy-gushy…unless you count pies with soft fillings. I do not think Aldandil has gotten adventurous enough to eat the pie the way his brother ate oatmeal...not yet, anyway. *g*

I will admit to basing parts of Nimaron's character off of myself...*shrugs helplessly*…I'm glad you like him.

LOL! No, the boat races will not be on the enchanted river! That would certainly be something.

*Nilmandra: I am glad to hear that your enjoying Aldandil's relationship with Meril at this stage—it is not quite the typical fiction romance.

I think everyone is in for several surprises!

*daw the minstrel: Glad you liked Thranduil's observation…it was something fun. I doubt small Legolas would find the lovely stretches of the Bruinen very interesting compared to his own Forest River. *g*

*Starlit Hope: Thank you for reading!

*Tinnuial: I have had lots of fun boating on rapids, and after watching a real regatta, thought the combination could be fun. I hope you like what's next!

*kingmaker: Hopefully this will turn out interesting…I have a good feeling that not everything will go according to plan. *g*

*lutris: Well here I am, continuing!  I'm glad you like Aldan's "romantic" thoughts of Meril and her pies, and am happy to hear that you continue to enjoy Nimaron. I've actually started an OC-based fic for him, though it is not exactly a nice one.