"How is it," wondered Erestor as he smeared a dollup of greenish-grey makeup over Gwindor's face as the elfling waited patiently, "that a holiday such a Yuletide, when everyone is cheerful and happy, and gifts are exchanged and songs are sung, is not very popular here in Valinor, while a dark celebration of the night, with all sorts of spooky things is something everyone looks forward to?"
"Exactly," answered Glorfindel with a grin from where he stood at the counter in the kitchen, wrapping warm popped-corn balls the three had made earlier in brightly colored wrappers Lhunerin had provided him with from her sweet shop.
Gwindor fidgeted in his chair as Erestor retrieved a brush and darker green face paint. "I like the candy," he informed his parents.
"There you have it. It's the candy," added Glorfindel. "Don't you like the tricks, too, Gwindor?" he asked the elfling.
"Fin, please don't ask him to speak while I'm doing this," interrupted Erestor as he hunched over and began to draw the brush over Gwindor's cheek.
"Sorry," apologized the blonde, wrapping another one of the festive treats. "It's so nice of Celebdreth to offer to take all of the youngest elflings around to the different tents, isn't it?" Although those who lived in Valimar or another of the heavily populated cities simply went door to door asking for treats, the farmers and shipbuilders, and others on the eastern coast gathered at the King's Kastle, which was turned into a haunted mansion for the weekend. Families pitched tents in the area behind the inn just before the forest, where hayrides took place. "Make sure you behave for Celebdreth, alright, Gwindor?"
Obligingly, the little elfling nodded his head, resulting in a streak of muddled green to now cross over onto his nose. Erestor sighed and pulled a cloth from the table, attempting to salvage his work.
"I'm being positively no help at all," sighed Glorfindel as he walked to the table and took the brush from one of Erestor's hands and the rag from the other. "I'll finish our dear little dragon up," he offered, "while you go and put your costume on."
"I don't have a costume," answered Erestor, trying to swipe the brush back.
"It's on the bed," corrected Glorfindel, nudging Erestor out of the chair with his elbow against the older elf's shoulder. "Go and put it on so I can go and put mine on."
Warily, Erestor wiped his hands and then made his way up the stairs.
