"I get the black one!"
Constance Illian-Sims rolled her eyes tolerantly as Jasmine ran pell-mell for the further of the two pedal-boats. "Definitely our daughter," she said sidelong to her husband.
"Definitely a future PPCer," Dafydd said, his tone one of complete agreement. "I'd probably better go after her...?"
Constance laughed and ruffled his hair. "Obviously you get the black one too." She glanced over at the swan pedalos and pursed her lips. "Although... are you allowed to use swan-shaped watercraft?"
"Only if I promise not to set them on fire," Dafydd said gravely. He looked up and down the Muéo River; this early in the day, its customary clouds of mosquitos hadn't yet formed, so it was a pleasant setting for the All-HQ Boat Race. "And we're a bit far inland for Uinen to show up and start making waves, so I should be all right."
"That depends who's driving your boat," Constance murmured, as Bella raced after her older sister. "We should probably separate those two."
Dafydd patted her arm. "It'll be fine," he said, "I'll keep an eye on them." Then he was off and running too, Ilwion the bronze fire-lizard cutting through the air above his head.
"Because you can definitely be trusted to be the sensible one," Constance said to her own fire lizard, Hera. "That was sarcasm," she added over her shoulder to Tanfin.
"I understood, amillë," the boy said with all the gravity of his fifteen years. He turned to his youngest two siblings and put on a smile. "Are we happy with the white swan, wini?"
"That's fine," Daphne said quietly, but Oleander - eight years old and feeling every minute of it - put on a scowl.
"I wanted the black one," he said, glowering after his father and sisters.
Constance fought not to roll her eyes again - or worse, laugh. "But Jasmine and Bella are already in the front of that one," she pointed out. "You'd have to sit in the back."
"So?" Oleander folded his arms, the lines on his face intensifying as he prepared for battle.
Daphne leant over to her little brother. "There's no pedals in the back, Ol," she whispered.
Oleander processed this, his face gradually un-creasing. "Bella could swap?" he suggested, but without much hope. "Jas, atto, and me all have black hair, see?"
"If you want colour-coordination, you need to move to Gondolin," Tanfin said, but waved off Oleander's baffled look. "Never mind; canon stuff."
"Oh." Oleander pulled a face, and then shifted gears in a heartbeat. "So are we going or what?"
"We'd better if we want to keep up with your dad," Constance said, shepherding the trio towards the remaining (white) swan-pedalo. "Littles in the front, all right?"
"Fine by me," Tanfin said, taking hold of the boat to let his siblings climb on board. "It'll be nice to let someone else do the driving."
Constance paused in the middle of helping Daphne into the swan. "Have you been out driving, Tanfin?"
Tanfin put on his blandest expression - the one he only pulled out when he'd been caught doing something he really shouldn't. "I meant the ponies," he said hopefully. "School sometimes takes us riding, and they're very hard to control."
"That is definitely not what you-" Oleander made a valiant attempt to go headfirst into the boat, and Constance had to scramble to catch him. "We'll talk about this later," she threatened as she levered the small boy into his seat. "For now - sit."
Tanfin meekly took his place, and Constance clambered into the last chair. A little further up the bank, Dafydd and the girls had cast off and were spinning in surprisingly rapid circles as they tried to control their black swan.
"Right," Constance said, making sure Hera was securely perched on her shoulder. The little golden queen was watching her mate, who was flitting through manic spirals above Dafydd's boat, but thankfully showed no inclination to follow suit. "Daphne, can you reach the rope? Thank you. Both of you, one hand on the tiller please."
"That's the stick in the middle," Tanfin said, leaning forward to Daphne. "It's how you steer the boat."
"I'm not sure I want to know how you know that, either," Constance muttered as Daphne nodded her thanks. "Okay... pedalling slowly, please, take us out into the river."
It took a little while for Daphne and Oleander to figure out how to control the swan. At first they went too fast, then too slow, then got stuck going right when Oleander tried to hog the tiller. But at last they managed a straight line, and were pedalling sedately out towards where the race was lining up.
... which was when Constance heard her husband shout something frantic in Quenya, and looked round just in time to see the black swan careen into the side of theirs.
There was a terminal-sounding crunch, and their stricken boat spiralled away into the current. "Sorry, Connie!" Dafydd called as Hera flapped her wings in alarm. "Jasmine, I told you to let your sister steer as well..."
Constance grimaced, massaged her temples for a moment, then looked over the side at the giant hole in the white swan's side. "Tanfin," she said, "see if you can flag down someone to help us. Daphne, Oleander - turn us back to shore, please, and start pedalling again." She felt water splash over her feet, and pulled her legs up against her chest. "And quickly."
Dafydd is of course a badfic copy of Maglor, son of Feanor, who has a bit of a history with swan-shaped boats.
The Mueo valley is mentioned in the Guide to New Cal, down in "Out of the Sinkhole: West". It sounds very nice, apart from the mosquitoes.
hS
