They stood there for a long moment, linked together, looking up at the portrait of the future Master of the Hall. Then, of course, Merry fidgeted.

"Feels odd, me hanging on the wall looking down at me like that," he muttered.

"Not at all," Rory responded. "It will hang here for a long, long time, lad, get accustomed to it."

Sara stepped away, pulling a soft hat out of his jacket and Esmeralda turned to look expectantly at the package leaning against the trestle.

"So, are you gifting someone as well, Frodo?" she asked. "It isn't your birthday for a good while yet."

"Gift?" Frodo blushed, realizing his mistake. "Uh, well, no. Actually, it was-- I was--"

"From what I hear, you were considering getting a portrait done, or some such, yes?"

Frodo turned and, out of view of the others, glared at Merry, who merely stuck out his chin.

"Some such, yes. I was, but it didn't quite work out."

Esmeralda was nothing if not persistent. She walked over to the package and tugged at the cloth, looking back at him. "Well, can we see it?"

"It's just a preliminary sketch. It-- apparently Mister Bunce had an accident after I left the parlour and it was ruined. Your staff was kind enough to wrap it for me, in case I wanted to keep it." Frodo gestured to the painting glowing on the wall. "Merry's portrait is much more worthy of our attention, I think."

Esmeralda looked up at her son's portrait. "Yes, it is beautiful. But you have piqued my curiosity now. At least let us see what our Frodo would look like captured in oil. Perhaps one day you will complete a sitting for a portrait yourself."

"Perhaps." Frodo looked around at the expectant faces.

Even Rory was leaning over to see what the fuss was about. "Well, bring it over here where I can see as well!" he complained.

Sighing, Frodo picked up the canvas, undoing the wrapping as he walked. He sat it against the wall under Merry's portrait and uncovered it.

"It's wonderful," Merry said in a hushed tone.

"No, he's right. It is you. Certainly it is spattered and smeared, but someone might be able to clean that up," Esmeralda agreed.

"Looks altogether too casual to me," Rory said. "Didn't ye have a decent jacket to put on then?"
 

Merry stepped forward, his eyes still glued to the ruined drawing. "May I have it?" he asked quietly.

Frodo stared at the picture, then at his cousin. "Certainly -- if you want it, Merry. Of course."

Merry just stood there, continuing to gaze at it.

Esmeralda had moved up right behind Frodo and leaned in to take another look. "You know, it reminds me of something."

"Well, it reminds me there's work to be done around here before the entire Westfarthing shows up on our doorstep. Can I help you to your study then da?" Sara said quickly, walking over to his father's chair and offering his arm.

"No," Rory declined, looking up at the painting of Merry, then over at Sara's and Merimac's portraits, then, pointedly, down at Frodo's sketch. "I think I'll sit here and enjoy my lads for a bit. I can get myself around, son."

"Fine then. Well, Merry, if you can come up to--"

"Merry's busy this afternoon, Sara. Remember?" Esmeralda said quickly.

Merry's head jerked up and he looked back and forth between his parents.

Sara hit his hat against his thigh. "Slipped my mind in all this excitement.  Then I will see you all at supper." He pointed at Frodo and then at Merry with a stern glare. "Including you two young gentle-hobbits -- and try not to ruin any more parlours before the festivities." Cramming the hat onto his head, he headed for the outside door.

"I know!" Esmeralda's voice was right at Frodo's shoulder and he nearly jumped through the ceiling. "It looks exactly like that little waistcoat we found hidden in one of the lower cellars a while back. Spattered with oil paint, just like that. How odd."

Frodo's stomach went through the floor. Luckily no one but Merry could see his face blazing. But she knew. She had known all along. Likely she knew every single prank he had ever pulled in the Hall or around it. He blushed harder when he thought about all the other things she likely knew as well.

Merry frowned at them both. Ah yes, Frodo would have to share the terrible tale of Merimac and the silk wallpaper and Frodo the apprentice prankster.

"Well, no matter." Fingers squeezed his shoulder. "It is a beautiful likeness of a lovely lad. Merry should be proud to own it." Frodo heard the fabric of her skirts rustle as she moved away. "Don't worry about dressing for supper, Frodo. It will just be us. What you have on is fine -- even with the paint spatters."

His mouth quirked and he almost laughed out loud, shaking his head, still unable to turn and meet her gaze. She was a bit of a tease, his aunt. "Yes m'am. Thank you," he managed in a choked voice.

Merry was looking at him quizzically. "What was that all about?" he asked quietly as his mother headed for the kitchens.

"We will see you at supper then, Uncle." Frodo called out, pulling Merry toward the doors into the front hall.

Rory waved vaguely in response.

"Well?" Merry asked, as they headed for the main stairs.

"It is a long story which I will tell you, I promise," Frodo said quickly. "And I want to hear all about your lunch."

"Yes, well--" Merry stopped on the landing, panting. "Why are you in such a rush, Frodo?"

Frodo finally stopped and turned back.  He looked around cautiously, then reached into his jacket and pulled out a large paintbrush, waving it slowly in front of Merry's face.  "I have an appointment in your room with a very talented artist and some warm caramel paint."   

Merry's eyes grew very large and his grin grew very wide, then he grabbed Frodo's arm and dragged him up the stairs at a rapid clip.

******

FINIS

The ruined sketch of Frodo mentioned in the story and used in the graphic is found here, as well as the original source sketch.

And much thanks to my wonderful beta ConnieMarie! 

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