A Rivendell Regatta, Mirkwood Style

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

Chapter 6 – The Perils of Paint

Arasil looked down at the small red boat in his hands. The shiny paint sparkled with glimmers of sunlight, and with his thumb he could feel the grooves on one side where his father had carved his name into the wood. Suddenly he extended the little boat to Cúran, keeping his eyes focused on a patch of worn grass near the other elfling's feet, "Here."

Cúran managed to catch the boat as Arasil dropped it into his lap, not hugging it close as he might if it were his very own boat, but only keeping it from falling off of his knees and onto the ground. This was not the Crescent, but the Dragon, and it was red, not blue. Most, it was not his, but Arasil's. His eyes darted from Arasil to Eldor, and back to the boat, "You don't have to give me this."

There was a momentary sparkle in Arasil's eyes, which lifted quickly from the ground, and Legolas leaned to Cúran's ear with a grin, "I will share mine with you."

"Yes, he does," Eldor forced the words out, knowing that if the boat were returned so soon, his son would quickly forget the mistakes that had resulted in him having to give it away. He did not want to discourage Cúran's kindness though, and there was a part of him that was happy to know that his child would eventually get the special possession back, so he drew in a breath, continuing, "I would like for you to at least keep it for him for awhile, until you have something to replace your own, all right?"

After a slow nod from Cúran, the father watched Arasil trail after Lalwen, then nodded his head towards the path, "I suppose I had better get the both of you home."

"Look!" Meril crowed, triumphantly holding what appeared to be a battered bit of wood above her head, "I knew I saw something earlier!" Her treasure began to drip on her head, and she hastily held it out in front of her with one hand, patting her hair with the other to be sure that no water bugs were now crawling on her head.

Aldandil took it from her, turning it in his hands, "It looks like one of the children's little boats; see, the paint is still so fresh that it's already begun to chip and slough off in places. I'll have to tell Legolas to let keep his out of the water for the most part, at least for a day or two."

"Oh, his has been in the pond already," Nimaron commented, pulling again at his sopping tunic. He glanced at the small boat in Aldandil's hands, "It is a shame that there are only a few bits of paint left – you do not see a name anywhere, do you?"

"No," Aldandil shook his head, handing the boat back to Meril, "What are you going to do with it?"

"I think I'll paint it myself," Meril tucked the small boat under the plank she was sitting on, grinning, "The elflings looked like they were having such fun yesterday, and I'm sure your brother can find someone who would like it when I'm finished with it."

"Lovely idea," Nimaron nodded absently, noticing that Aldandil was again reaching for his paddle, "You said there were more rapids, didn't you?"

"Galion!"

The king of Mirkwood hurried down the corridor, already in an irritable mood. Finding his butler asleep in a splattered hall was not a good way to start his day, and he only wanted to find Galion quickly in order to give a few specific instructions regarding the dinner for the evening. This had been delayed by the arrival of one of his horse masters, Legolas in tow, accompanied by an explanation that the elfling had been far too close to the river, which had necessitated a talk with his son and the development of a fitting punishment. The news had disturbed his wife, who then had to be assured that their child would not have the opportunity to get so close to such a body of water for quite some time. He had not even bothered to tell his older son not to drip on the carpets when he'd arrived home drenched to the bone – he only wanted to instruct his butler to have the seating arrangements changed so that he could speak to one of his ambassadors – the one with the heart and sense-stealing daughter, to be specific.

"Careful!"

Thranduil was careful indeed, especially after nearly stepping into a pie dish conveniently left right inside the doorway, and sloshing with forest green paint. The dining hall did not look like a dining hall at all – all of the furniture and hangings had been moved out, and on the floor knelt his butler, one of the younger servants, and an elf he recognized as the person who had painted the ceilings in his sons' rooms. The three were crouched over several sheets of paper, and surrounded by dishes and pans of paint.

The entire floor was covered in lines of colored chalk. And…numbers.

"I do not even want to know," the king stared at the mess for a moment, then decided it would be best not to even speculate. With that he turned, striding down the hall and muttering something about holding feasts out-of-doors.

"…and I really do not want to have to find someone to look after you every single minute. Your Ada and I thought you were old enough to be allowed to play between home and Arasil's house when you like, but now we are not so sure…"

"I know."

"…the banks are very high up, and the water is much deeper than you think…"

"I know."

"…I know I've already told you this, but it does not hurt to repeat again that the river is still a dangerous place for anyone, especially elflings like you…"

"I know, Nana."

Legolas listened to his mother continue, her hand much closer around his fingers as she walked him to supper than it normally was. He knew his mother was worried – nanas tended to worry – but sometimes, he thought, his nana worried too much. It had not been a good idea to drop Cúran's boat from the bridge, or to lie by the bank, but he was well aware of that now. No matter how many times he said "I know" though, Nana continued to talk.

"…we care about you very much, and we do not want anything to happen to you," Nana bent to the ground and hugged him snugly, "I love you."

"I said 'I know', Nana," Legolas replied automatically, then realized what his mother had said and managed to hug her back, "I love you, too."

Elves do not huddle with cups of hot tea, especially in summer, Nimaron thought to himself, doing just that, Unless they are engaging in self-indulgence.

There had not been one set of rapids, but two, and the first of these had involved enough jolting and bouncing sufficient to give anyone a headache, and then there had been the chore of dragging the boat out of the water and carrying it all the way back to the palace. Finally the healer had walked – no, squished – to his room, apologizing for the wet footprints all the way there.

Healers did not squish. At least, not without good reason.

Nimaron blew the steam from his tea, taking another long sip. It felt so nice to be in dry clothing again, to be sitting in a quiet, perfectly safe room. It did not usually feel this nice – usually it felt simply ordinary, if not mundane and boring.

Now it was noticeably nice, though. So nice, in fact, that perhaps he would not mind getting wet and worried and tired for the sake of it again tomorrow.

Legolas pushed himself onto his chair, glancing across the table to where Lady Meril had a number of things set out for a project. There were jars of paint in various colors, shiny flecks from shells, bits of colored glass, and a variety of other interesting things. Lady Meril sat in the midst of it with Aldandil, who was pushing colored beads onto a piece of metal wire.

"What are you making?" Legolas knelt on his chair to see better, a list of things that could be made from the supplies quickly forming in his head. He had been hungry a moment ago, but playing with the stash that Lady Meril so rarely set out would be worth skipping a meal.

"A bracelet," Aldandil responded, twisting the first wire around another, "Except that it is being very stubborn."

Legolas picked up the roll on his plate, breaking off a piece to eat, "What about you, Lady Meril?"

Meril smiled to herself, grinning over the way Aldan's younger brother still used her title, even though she was quite familiar with him. "Well," Meril stayed bent over her work, unbothered by Aldandil, who watched over her shoulder, "I found a little boat while we were out on the river, and I thought I'd paint it, since it was in rather bad condition."

"A…a little boat? Like the elflings' boats? For the race?" Legolas watched as Lady Meril swirled her brush around in a pot of pale pink paint, then bit his lip when she swept it back and forth over the wood before her.

"Yes," Meril grinned widely, covering the wood in more pink paint, "I was so surprised! But I've got a wonderful idea on how to decorate it, and I really am enjoying myself! I'd actually wanted to do a boat when you and your friends were working on yours."

"Oh," Legolas nodded, picking up his fork and stabbing absently at some greens on his plate. Lady Meril had found the boat in the river…so it was almost undoubtedly Cúran's…and she was painting it pink. He glanced nervously at the paint pot, trying to see if someone had written the color name on it. Perhaps the paint would turn color later, like it had on Arasil's boat. Dribbles of it had dried on the container, and there was no denying that it was going to look positively pink after it set. The elfling bit at his lower lip again, then looked at the lady, "Cúran lost his boat in the river today."

"He did?" Aldandil straightened in his chair, looking at his younger brother, then at Meril, "That one is probably his then, Meril."

"Oh, how wonderful!" Meril crowed, smiling and dunking her brush into the pink paint again, "Tell him that I'll return it as soon as I'm finished with it, Legolas, as I'd so like to see how it looks when I'm done."

Legolas watched with worry as Lady Meril continued to cover the boat in pink paint, "It…it was blue before. Blue and white."

"It will be a bit different when I'm through," Meril grinned again, her wonderful plan seeming even better now, "But I'm sure he'll like it."

"Lady Meril is quite creative, Legolas," Aldandil winked at his brother, smiling, "Cúran will be especially pleased when he sees it."

Legolas only nodded again, quite sure that Cúran would be especially not pleased with a horrendously pink boat.

Number fourteen, number fourteen…ah, that golden yellow color! Cerveth drew the jar of paint over, swirling his brush in it before drawing it along King Thranduil's floor. It felt almost wonderfully disobedient to be covering the king's dining hall floor in paint, especially after King Thranduil's longsuffering look into the room a few hours earlier. Hopefully the king would like the end result. The young servant leaned back on his heels, glancing around the room. The floor was covered in an intricate pattern of yellows, greens, and – especially – reds, which would all match the tapestries and banners that normally hung on the walls and from the ceiling.

Cerveth glanced to the mastermind of this undertaking, watching as Ondren covered another large section of the floor in green paint. The dark haired Silvan knelt a few yards away, smoothly brushing on a coat of paint the color of thick pine needles. He knew the artist was familiar with painting ceilings, walls, and floors, but he had never known anyone could take a picture and map it out for a large surface within so little time.

'There is a system to it,' Ondren had explained, making everything sound much simpler than possible, all while drawing on the floor with sticks of colored chalk, 'You measure both the area and the picture, divide it into sections, and enlarge it accordingly. Quite easy, really.'

Perhaps for someone who had done it hundreds of times before…

Cerveth was content just carefully filling Ondren's lines with color, imagining how pleased Ninglor would be to find out that he had been one of the few to decorate the king's floor. He could walk her into the room, gesture to the magnificent floor with one (now ever-so-slightly manly) hand, and point out the sections he had painted while she stood impressed. No need to tell her that Ondren had found it necessary to number the sections and matching paints for him…

"Cerveth, fetch me another tin of this red," Galion called, not as excited about this project now as he had been before. It was taking an awfully long time, and he predicted another late night ahead of him. "Number one, I think it is."

"Ah, the color that started it all!" Ondren grinned, placing his brushes in a jar of water and getting up from the floor, "I'd best be leaving, I suppose. It has been wonderful working with you both, but my wife will be looking for me..."

Cerveth stood next to a large section of drying green paint, staring towards the door, "I don't think your leaving is a possibility."

Across the room stretched yards of wet paint, beautiful swirls of gold and green on a red background. The door was on one side; the elves, on the other.

"Oh, Valar," Galion slumped against the wall behind him, "We've painted ourselves into a corner."

Responses to Reviews

daw the minstrel: Ah, yes – the "boating" is probably quite good for poor Nim. He may even find himself enjoying it eventually.

kingmaker: As you've probably figured out, Arasil will eventually get his own boat back, and Cúran…well…he does and doesn't get his.

Starlit Hope: (In his current bad mood, sopping Nim glares at the kind reviewer and very nearly throws a pitcher-full of river water at her.)

Lutris: Cerveth must be lacking excitement if he's so thrilled with scrubbing things – I'm afraid his imagination gets the best of him. And yes, poor Arasil does seem to get into trouble, though I really think he's well-meaning most of the time.

farflung: Poor, poor Galion – it's hardly over yet. After this I'm sure he'll be avoiding paint at all costs. And 'manly' Cerveth had better watch out – those dishpan hands might just give the girl ideas about getting him to do kitchen-duty when he comes over!

Cúran will get his own boat back – though as Meril states, it will be different.

Dragon-of-the-North: As you've found out now, Cúran was a bit in between over taking Arasil's boat – he doesn't quite want it, but he doesn't want to challenge Arasil's father either. Poor elfling…it will probably just make him miserable having it at his house. : (

I'm beginning to think poor Galion should hire someone experienced in interior design crisis. ("And the Gollum-owl tapestry…put that in the special guestroom. You know, the one Thranduil reserves for visitors he tries to encourage to leave early…")