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Ancestress  by Dreamflower

 

Chapter Sixty-one: The Sketchbook, part 1

Frodo sat with his sketchpad on his knee, his charcoal flying over the page as he drew rapidly the scene before him. It was some minutes before his subjects noticed his activity.

They were in the front garden of Adamanta's smial in the Vale. Frodo was beneath a tree, his back against the mighty trunk, as he did his best to capture the three of them: Bilbo, Adamanta and Gandalf, admiring a bed of riotous colors-- lilies in shades that Frodo had never seen back in the Shire: rich reds, glorious golden yellows and outrageous oranges. He wished he had some colours with him-- he knew his memory could never capture the scene so well. Still, perhaps one day when they visited, he could bring his paints and the easel one of Elrond's household had built for him. But he wasn't sure that the colours he had could capture those vibrant shades anyway.

Still, he could capture the expressions on the faces of the three whom he loved. Gandalf was looking at the two hobbits more than the flowers--his eyes twinkling, and a fond proud smile twitching at his lips. Bilbo was clearly enjoying the flowers--Frodo heard him invoke Sam's name and laugh. Frodo was sure he was wondering how Sam would react to these new flowers. Adamanta seemed very pleased with herself, and Frodo knew that she was glad she could tend her garden as a hobbit should, with toes in the grass and fingers in the soil.

But now they had spotted him, and turned.

"You can't draw the flowers from over there, Frodo!" Bilbo admonished him. "Why I know you cannot see them properly from there!"

Frodo laughed. "And what makes you think I am drawing the flowers, Bilbo? I have much more interesting subjects than flowers."





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