Summary: The Master spends some time with his newborn child. Featuring wee!Meriella and father!Merry.

*****

Eyes that were stunningly wise for one so young gazed up at me with innocent fascination. They were filled with a piercing light and in them I could see the makings of a fine lady.

I played my fingers though the fine, soft blond curls, traced the velvety cheek and studied the tiny hands.

Soft baby feet peeked out from the blanket, forming two neat little rows of pearly pink toes. I couldn’t resist lifting a foot to my mouth, nibbling playfully at the end. A happy gurgle broke forth and the air was filled with its sweet, soft melody.

Author’s Note: I just thought I’d offer up a warning, this is complete silliness. While in a state of slight delusion (after too much partying) I asked my sister to offer me a writing challenge. We decided it would be a drabble and she could choose a character, place, and object. And so what follows is rather illogical (I mean, honestly, what is Arwen doing in Hobbiton?) but I had fun with it and thought I mind as well post it :) Character: Arwen, Place: Hobbiton, Object: Needle.

****

"Who is she?" He stared in fascination at her retreating figure.

"She's one of them Elves. Rumor has it she's even a princess of some sort. Leastways, that's what Olo said down at the Dragon. "

Falco let out his breath, obviously impressed. "They are fine folk, them Elves. But I reckon I still prefer my sweet Ivy any day."

"Oh aye." Jolly agreed. "But one has to admit there's something enchanting about those high folks."

Still, there's nothing as lovely as the simple image of my lady with her needle and thread, mendin' my jacket."

Jolly nodded in agreement.

*****