22: The Great Paint Job Incident

As was their custom, Sorondil and Oromendil presented themselves to Master Meneldil after breaking their fast to see what the Master wished for them to do. Their Maiar attendants, Cucuandur (Sorondil’s Maia) and Nornotavaron (Oromendil’s Maia) followed along to ensure that the two ellyn actually arrived at their destination. Oromendil, especially, had the tendency to wander off when something attracted his attention, be it a butterfly or a squirrel or even a leaf fluttering by on the wind. The Maiar were beginning to learn that ‘straight away’ had a completely different meaning for the elflings than it did for the adults.

Today Master Meneldil was waiting for them as usual in the grove where he kept his apothecary. "So, how are you two doing this morning?" he asked them, casting a critical and professional eye over them. Sorondil still was not sleeping well in spite of the herbal teas they had been foisting on him and the other elflings. Oromendil looked a little better but not by much. The last week had taken their toll on the children, especially with Lindorillë not responding even to her brother’s pleas to return to them. It was disheartening to see such pain in these young ones and all of Lord Irmo or Lady Estë’s assurances to the contrary, it was difficult to remain hopeful. Still, he was careful always to keep a cheerful front for their sakes and the Maiar followed his lead.

"We’re fine, Master," Oromendil said, speaking for them both, as was usual. Sorondil had stopped speaking altogether unless directly addressed since his sister had started to fade. "Who are we playing with today?"

Meneldil hid a smile and the two Maiar were also careful not to laugh. "Well, as to that, youngling," he said, "I noticed that Gwindor is feeling rather sad today."

Sorondil perked up at that, much to Meneldil’s delight. "Why? What does he have to be sad about?"

"Ah... well, as to that, Sorondil, he will not tell me. Perhaps you and Oromendil can find out and help him not be sad anymore."

The two ellyn nodded and Meneldil made shooing motions. "Off you go then. You’ll find Gwindor in his grove."

The elflings made their obeisance to the Master (they were finally getting used to doing so without having to be reminded) and ran off, hand-in-hand, to go in search of their Reborn friend. The two Maiar remained behind, for it was Meneldil’s wish, backed up by Lord Irmo, that the elflings not feel that they were constantly being watched and allowed the freedom of unsupervised play.

"Is Gwindor truly sad?" Cucuandur asked the Master Healer.

Meneldil nodded. "Oh, yes. He’s been moping about for a couple of days now. Won’t tell me or anyone else what is bothering him, though. I’m hoping the little ones will get him to talk."

Nornotavaron nodded. "I’ve noticed that since these two have started interacting with the Reborn, many of them are responding more favorably than they were."

"Yes," Meneldil said. "I have noticed that as well. In fact, at least two of the Reborn are being released earlier than anticipated simply because they’ve responded so well to Sorondil and Ormendil’s presence. I am thinking of approaching my lord Irmo with the idea of having other elflings come to Lórien to help with the Reborn. Perhaps we can recruit those children who already are expressing an interest in becoming Healers."

The two Maiar nodded. "That sounds like a wonderful idea," Cucuandur said. "I have to admit that since these children have been here life has gotten a bit more interesting again."

"You mean you’ve been getting bored?" his fellow Maia asked in mock shock.

Cucuandur laughed. "Bored? No... but you have to admit, the elflings do liven things up a bit."

"Indeed."

They all turned to see Lord Irmo standing at the entrance to the grove, smiling benignly, and gave the Vala their obeisance. Irmo addressed Meneldil. "I think your idea has merit, my son. We will discuss it further at another time."

"Thank you, my lord," Meneldil said with a bow.

Irmo nodded. "In the meantime, I have just been informed by my brother that we should expect two new Reborn in the next day or so. I think I want to have them sharing the same pavilion...."

The two Maiar excused themselves while Irmo and Meneldil discussed the needs of the Reborn to check on their charges one more time before attending to their other duties.

****

Sorondil and Oromendil made their way towards Gwindor’s pavilion. The Reborn was a Noldo who died a long time ago, but that was all they knew about him. The ellyn had learned very quickly never to ask a Reborn about how they died. Since befriending Gwindor and the other Reborn, they had begun to understand that these elves were not deserving of their contempt but rather their understanding and compassion. Many of the Reborn were fearful of their welcome among the elves of Aman and seeing these two elflings interacting with them and accepting them gave them hope that things would be well once they left Lórien.

They found Gwindor sitting quietly outside his pavilion before a fire, staring at nothing in particular, sipping on a hot beverage. "Gwindor!" Sorondil called out. "Mae govannen."

"Mae govannen," Oromendil echoed.

The Noldo looked up and gave them a smile. He had been teaching them something of Sindarin and was glad to see they had remembered their lessons.

"Mae govannen, mellyn nîn," he replied, then switched to Quenya. "Come and join me." He gestured and the two ellyn crouched before the fire. It was not cold today, but the morning was cooler than usual so the fire was welcome.

"Master Meneldil said you were feeling sad," Sorondil said, getting right to the point. "Why are you sad, Gwindor? Did someone say something mean?"

Gwindor gave his young friends a surprised look. "Mean? Oh, no, nothing like that." He sighed a bit and stared at the fire again. "I was just feeling... oh, I don’t know..."

"Do you miss your home?" Oromendil asked solicitously. "I miss mine and my atto and ammë."

Gwindor gave the elfling a fond smile. "No. I do not miss my home. Indeed, I barely can remember it yet. No... I was just thinking that as lovely as Lórien is, it’s rather... blah."

"Huh?" Two sets of eyebrows shot up at that and Gwindor couldn’t help but laugh at their absurd expressions.

"Blah... a perfectly good word," he said to them. "Everything is the same here. I think it’s all the trees. They’re all green."

"Well, of course they’re green," protested Oromendil with some exasperation. "What color did you think they should be — purple?"

Sorondil snickered and Gwindor laughed again. "No... I think we should leave the trees alone."

That got their attention, that and the sly look the Noldo cast them. The elflings glanced around as if they were making sure they weren’t being observed before turning their attention back to Gwindor. "What do you have in mind?" Sorondil whispered, looking wide-eyed.

"Well, you know those paints that they have for us to play with?"

The two ellyn nodded. They had gotten the chance to play with the paints themselves and enjoyed that part of their duties the most.

"I was thinking that maybe some of these pavilions could be a bit more... er... colorful."

Sorondil and Ormendil looked up at the pavilion behind Gwindor. It was a typical pavilion. Most were either blue or white or even green but otherwise were rather plain looking. The two elflings exchanged smiles and then turned back to Gwindor. "How do we get the paints without anyone knowing?" Sorondil asked.

"Won’t there be a class?" Oromendil asked almost at the same time.

Gwindor shook his head. "I checked already. No painting class has been scheduled until tomorrow."

"We still have to get them though," Sorondil opined, scrunching his face in thought. "It won’t be easy sneaking in...."

"You snuck into the tournament encampment," Gwindor reminded them.

Both ellyn cringed. "But we got caught," Oromendil replied with a scowl.

"That’s because you didn’t have me with you," Gwindor retorted with a wide grin and the two younger elves grinned back. The Noldo rose and gestured towards the grove’s entrance. "Shall we?"

The other two jumped up, eager to be off. "What shall we paint first, Gwindor?" Ormendil asked as they made their way towards the grove where painting classes were held.

"Well, I was thinking... Lord Irmo’s People wear the emblem of a rainbow. I like rainbows. I think we should have more of them. I noticed that Lord Irmo has a white pavilion by the lake that he likes to sit under at times. What do you think?"

The two children stopped in amazement, not sure if they wanted to tamper with something belonging to Lord Irmo, but the look of anticipation on Gwindor’s face was enough to quell any misgivings they might have had and with vigorous nods they continued on their way....

****

"Lord Irmo’s pavilion?" Finrod interrupted Ingil’s narrative with a shocked look on his face. "They decided to paint Lord Irmo’s pavilion?"

Ingil gave him a grin. "Among other things."

"Do you know this Gwindor, brother?" Glorfindel asked, giving Finrod a shrewd look.

Finrod nodded. "The son of Guilin, my seneschal at the time I left Nargothrond. His brother, Gelmir, died in the Dagor Bragollach."

Ingil shook his head. "No. I’m afraid he did not, though he did die... eventually."

Finrod stared at the Maia in consternation, but refrained from asking any further questions in deference to the children listening with wide eyes and wider ears. "You’ll have to tell me the details later. In the meantime, I believe Sorondil and Oromendil were about to do something foolish." He gave the two ellyn a wicked grin and a wink that set them laughing, so they knew their lord was not angry with them... yet.

Ingil merely nodded. "Yes. Gwindor proved rather... inventive, to say the least."

"How did they manage to do what they did without alerting any of the Maiar?" Ingwion asked.

"Ah... well, as to that...."

****

Cucuandur and Nornotavaron, now invisible, entered Gwindor’s grove just in time to overhear the elves’ plans and watch them leave for the painting grove.

"Should we not stop them?" Nornotavaron asked.

"You know we are not to interfere in anything that the Reborn do unless it poses an obvious danger to them," Cucuandur replied with a shrug.

"What about the elflings?" his fellow challenged him. "They are not Reborn."

"True, but stealing paints and brushes does not constitute a dangerous activity," the other Maia countered.

Nornotavaron grinned. "Unless Lord Irmo catches them." They both laughed. "Still," Nornotavaron continued, "ought we not to warn Lord Irmo that his favorite pavilion is about to be attacked by one Reborn and two elflings bent on making things... um... colorful?"

Cucuandur snickered. "We were told not to interfere, and warning Lord Irmo would be a form of interference."

"You may be the one to explain that to him when he questions us about it later," Nornotavaron said with a snort. "Well, what about the other Maiar? Should we warn them off?"

"Nay," Cucuandur said with a shake of his head. "We will leave all to themselves and see how it plays out. I’m off." With that he thought himself away to report to Lady Estë while Nornotavaron remained for another minute watching Gwindor and the elflings make their way along the sward towards the painting grove and trying, rather unsuccessfully to the Maia’s mind, to act nonchalant. Finally, he shrugged and thought himself to the stables to visit with the horses before attending to his other duties.

****

"So how do we get into the grove without anyone seeing us?" Sorondil asked as the three of them made their way along the sward.

"Well, getting in is no problem," Gwindor explained. "None of the groves are barred, at least none that I’ve ever wandered into. I think getting out without anyone seeing us sneaking paint and brushes might be trickier."

"What do you suggest, then?" Oromendil asked.

"I’m sure something will come to mind," was Gwindor’s rather vague reply. "Ah... here it is. Come, let us see what we can find."

They entered the grove which consisted of two pavilions, the smaller one being the supply tent while the larger was where classes were held. At the moment there was no one there. They made their way into the smaller tent and Gwindor began selecting several tubs of paint and some brushes.

"If we’re going to paint rainbows we need all the colors," Sorondil said. "We’re missing indigo."

"Ah... I don’t see anything that says indigo," Gwindor replied, squinting at the various tubs and reading their labels. "What if we just skip indigo?"

"But if we did that it wouldn’t be a proper rainbow," Oromendil protested.

"Well, there is something called midnight blue. Would that work? And we have azure blue as well."

The two elflings shrugged, not really sure what the difference between the two shades was, but finally nodded in agreement.

"Good," Gwindor said with a smile. "Now we need to find something to carry all this in without it being obvious."

The two elflings scattered about in search of something suitable for transportation. It was Sorondil who found the picnic basket. "Will this do?"

"Perfect," Gwindor answered and they quickly piled all their supplies into it, or at least as much as they could. There were two tubs of paint that would not fit no matter what they tried. "Hmm... let’s take the brushes out and see if that will work," the Reborn suggested, but it still did not work.

"We need the orange and green paint," Ormendil said in disgust, scowling at the uncooperative basket. "We can’t have a rainbow without them."

"Wait!" Gwindor said. "I have an idea. I’ll be right back." With that, he left them, returning about ten minutes later with another smaller basket. "Here. We can use this, and I’ve even brought some food so if anyone asks we can truthfully tell them we’re going on a picnic." He lifted the lid of the basket to reveal a tablecloth and some bread, fruit and cheese as well as a skin of water. There was just enough room to add the two tubs of paint.

"You two carry the smaller basket and I’ll handle the larger one," Gwindor said and soon they were off again.

As luck would have it, though, no sooner had they cleared the grove, when they were accosted by two other Reborn, an ellon and an elleth, who wanted to know what they were up to. They spoke Sindarin rather than Quenya, and too rapidly for the elflings to follow.

"We’re going to the lake for a picnic," Gwindor told them, speaking in the same language.

"Oh, can we come?" asked the elleth, a silvery-haired Sinda from Doriath named Region.

"Well... I don’t think we have enough bru... I mean food for everyone," Gwindor replied with a scowl.

"Oh, that’s all right, we can fetch some for ourselves, can’t we Celepharn?"

Her dark-haired companion, clearly a Noldo, nodded. "Region and I were heading for the lake, too," he explained. "We wanted to see if it is true that Lady Estë sleeps during the day."

The two Reborn giggled and Gwindor rolled his eyes. Sorondil and Ormendil were becoming impatient, not caring about sleeping Valiër.

"C’mon, Gwindor, you promised," Sorondil protested.

"Why don’t you two go on ahead?" Gwindor said to the two other Reborn. "There’s something we want to do first."

"We’ll stop at the kitchens and ask for something for the picnic and meet you at the lake," Celepharn suggested with a nod, then he took Region’s hand. The two of them fairly skipped down the sward giggling.

The elflings watched them with a scowl. "They’re going to ruin everything," Oromendil whined.

"Not if we hurry," Gwindor said and with that he set off. The elflings trailed behind him.

They reached the lake without further incident and soon were standing before Lord Irmo’s pavilion. Three of the walls were down, the fourth side was open to the lake. There was no one else in sight. Quickly putting down the baskets and pulling out their ill-gotten goods, Gwindor handed each of the elflings a large brush.

"Sorondil, you take the left wall and Oromendil can do the opposite one. I’ll do this one. I’ll lay the tubs out and you can choose whichever color you want to start with. Here are the other brushes. I brought one for each color."

The other ellyn nodded and soon Sorondil was dipping his brush in green paint while Oromendil chose purple. Gwindor started with red. They attacked the walls of the pavilion with the brushes, though it was not easy to paint on sendal. It was not as stiff as canvas for one thing, and the two elflings were not tall enough to reach further than halfway up the wall. That did not matter, though, for they were all having too much fun to care. They made arches of color, switching brushes as they finished with one color. Gwindor’s artwork was more exact than that of the other two. Sorondil and Oromendil simply painted rainbows in no particular order of color.

"Hey, Gwindor, can we paint other things besides rainbows?" Sorondil asked at one point, wiping a smear of orange across his forehead.

"Sure," Gwindor replied. "Anything you like so long as it’s colorful."

The two elflings giggled and soon Sorondil was painting a wildly colorful butterfly while Oromendil was trying his hand, not very well, at painting a horse that was blue with a yellow mane and tail. Gwindor had turned his attention to painting flowers underneath his rainbow.

None of them were paying attention to anything else so it came as a shock when they heard someone calling to them.

"Hey! I thought you were going on a picnic."

The three ellyn, now splattered with different colored paints, stopped to find themselves facing Celepharn and Region who were carrying a picnic basket of their own between them. They gave the two newcomers guilty looks. It was Gwindor who answered them. "Ah... well, we...um... decided to have some fun first."

"Would you like to join us?" Oromendil asked, holding out his brush dripping yellow. "I’m painting a horse."

Celepharn and Region looked at each other, then at the three painters. "Why are you painting Lord Irmo’s pavilion?" Region asked.

Gwindor shrugged. "We decided Lórien needed some color."

Celepharn nodded, his expression becoming gleeful. "Come on, Region. Let’s join them and then afterwards we can go over to the island and have our picnic."

"How are you going to do that?" Sorondil asked in confusion. "There’s no bridge."

"Ah..." Celepharn reached into the basket he and Region were carrying and pulled out some hísilia. "We’ll make one."

That was good enough for the elflings and soon they were back to painting with Celepharn and Region joining in. By now the pavilion was unrecognizable as the pristine white sendal walls became a riot of color. Gwindor and Celepharn even boosted Region up so she could paint the roof. The two elflings wanted to do it too so they took turns.

Finally, they decided that there was no more white to be painted on and they stepped back to admire their artwork....

****

"Celepharn!" Glorfindel exclaimed.

"You know him?" Finrod asked in surprise.

Glorfindel scowled. "If it’s the same Celepharn... Does he also go by Artelemnar?" he turned to Ingil.

The Maia nodded. "Yes. It is the same person. He has... changed since last you saw him."

"He was funny," Ormendil piped up suddenly and Sorondil nodded, "He taught us some words in Sindarin but Gwindor and Region thought they were not good words for us to learn."

"They were, in fact, quite naughty," Ingil said with a wink to the older elves.

Finrod raised an eyebrow. "I hope we do not have the occasion of hearing them coming from your mouths then," he said as he gave the two ellyn a significant look. Both of them shook their heads.

"We know better than that, lord," Sorondil said solemnly. Finrod was privately pleased that the youngster had addressed him correctly but said nothing more.

He turned his attention back to Ingil. "So what was Lord Irmo’s reaction when he saw what had been done to his pavilion?"

"And did they truly get away with it without anyone seeing them?" Ingwion asked, looking skeptical. "I cannot imagine no Maia was watching."

Ingil’s grin widened. "Oh, there were plenty of Maiar watching them. In fact, most of Lórien was aware of what they were doing...."

****

The five elves were sitting around the pavilion, spattered with paint, happily munching on some roasted chicken and admiring their efforts. In the end they had decided not to attempt the crossing to the island, deciding to save that for another day.

"Well, it’s certainly no longer white," Celepharn said with a straight face and the others all laughed.

Indeed, not only was the pavilion no longer white, the sward around it for about two feet was now every color but green. The two elflings were covered from head to toe in paint though their older friends were more pristine looking.

"Do you think Lord Irmo will like it?" Sorondil asked.

"Why don’t you ask him and find out?"

The elves all turned around, gasping in surprise, to see a Maia standing behind them, looking less than pleased.

"Oh, hello Ingil," Gwindor said as he rose, looking suddenly nervous. The others showed similar signs of dismay at the sight of the Maia glaring at them.

"Don’t ‘oh, hello Ingil’ me, child," the Maia said. "What were you all thinking of? Lord Irmo is not going to be happy."

"But it’s so colorful," Sorondil exclaimed. "How can he not like it?"

"Were you watching us all this time?" Celepharn asked, giving the Maia a shrewd look.

Ingil stared at the Reborn ellon for a moment before a small grin stole across his visage and with a single gesture, suddenly the entire area was filled with Maiar. The elves just stared in shock at the grinning faces. The elflings noticed their own guardian Maiar standing right behind Ingil and cringed slightly at the sight of them.

"Wh-why didn’t you stop us?" Oromendil asked, feeling confused by what he considered unadult-like behaviour on the part of the Maiar.

"Because we were enjoying watching you enjoy yourself, child," Ingil said.

"What about Lord Irmo?" Region enquired with a frown. "Does he know yet?"

"Indeed I do, daughter."

They all turned to see Lord Irmo striding towards them with a faintly amused expression on his face. The five elves gave him his obeisance, though none were quite able to look him directly in the eye. They watched the Vala circle the pavilion, checking on their handiwork, and waited with some trepidation as to what his reaction would be. Sorondil and Oromendil were wondering what sort of punishment they would be receiving while the three Reborn were hoping they weren’t going to be sent back to Mandos for what they’d done.

Finally, Irmo came back around to where the elves were standing waiting for his judgment. All around were the Maiar, most of them with amused though sympathetic smiles. "So, whose brilliant idea was this?" Irmo finally asked, knowing full-well the answer.

Gwindor winced slightly at the Vala’s tone and raised his hand.

"Ah... I should have known," Irmo said, nodding. Then, he glanced at the two elflings. "And you decided it was a good idea."

Sorondil and Ormendil both nodded, somewhat reluctantly. "We... we thought it would be... um... fun." Sorondil replied, swallowing nervously.

"And was it?"

The question was so unexpected that none of the elves knew how to respond at first, but the elflings both nodded vigorously and Gwindor and the other two Reborn grinned. "Best fun I’ve had since trying to burn down half the Gardens," Celepharn said with a laugh.

Several Maiar rolled their eyes at that, remembering all too clearly that particular incident, while Sorondil and Oromendil just gave the Reborn shocked looks.

Irmo merely chuckled. "Yes... and less dangerous," he retorted.

"So, what do you think... um... lord?" Oromendil asked, concern written all over his face.

"What do I think?" Irmo echoed, gazing serenely at the five elves, all waiting for doom to fall upon them. "I think you missed a spot on the right wall near the top." He turned to go, ignoring the snickers from the Maiar and the looks of dumfounded disbelief on the faces of the elves, then stopped and gave Celepharn and Region a more severe look. "I’ll take the rope," he said, holding out his hand.

There was a brief moment of silence and then Celepharn was scrambling for one of the picnic baskets and pulling out the rope, sheepishly handing it over to the Vala. Irmo nodded.

"If I catch any of you even thinking about going to the island without permission, I’ll have my brother come and speak to you about certain matters. Do I make myself clear?"

All five elves nodded, unaware that the Maiar were smiling, for they knew full-well that their lord was more amused than angry. Irmo turned his attention to the Maiar standing about. "Make sure the elflings are cleaned up before dinner, and see if you can’t get rid of the paint on the grass. Pavilions I can see, but I prefer my grass to be green."

With that, the Vala strode away. Ingil stepped forward. "You heard Lord Irmo. Finish up with the painting and then it’s a bath for the lot of you."

"We’re not elflings," protested Gwindor as Region and Celepharn nodded in agreement.

Ingil merely smiled. "Oh, child, you have no idea just how elfling-like you truly are...."

****

There was laughter from the grown-ups as Ingil finished his tale.

"I wish I could’ve helped paint," Veryandur said with a pout. "All I got to do that day was pull weeds." Eruanna nodded, looking equally morose at being left out of all the fun.

Finrod laughed again, tousling the ellon’s hair. "I think your weed-pulling was more productive than painting a pavilion that didn’t need it."

"Well, if you wander down by the lake you’ll see it," Ingil said with a smile. "Lord Irmo decided to leave it as it is. Lady Estë claimed it was an eyesore when she saw it."

"Oh?" Glorfindel said with a chuckle.

Ingil nodded, giving them a mischievous look. "Which is probably why she immediately ordered every pavilion in the groves set aside for the Reborn painted. The elves were quite enthusiastic about it and even some of the Maiar helped."

"Including you?" Ingwion asked, giving the Maia a shrewd look.

Ingil held up his hands where they could see splotches of red, blue and purple. "I had to fight off half my fellows for the privilege."

They all laughed at that.

****

All words are Quenya unless otherwise noted.

Cucuandur: ‘Dove’s Servant’.

Nornotavaron: ‘Oak Tree Spirit’.

Mae govannen, mellyn nîn: (Sindarin) ‘Well met, my friends’.

Hísilia: The Quenya form of hithlain, or Elvish rope.

Note: Celepharn was introduced in Elf, Interrupted: Book One, chapter 11, as Glorfindel and Sador’s roomate in Lórien. Also known as Artelemnar.