Six weeks ago

“Keep still, ma’am,” said Master Halmir.

Unseen by Gondor’s foremost portrait painter, Legolas’ fingers, resting at his wife’s waist, twitched.

“Ha-ha-ha!” Eowyn wriggled helplessly.

The artist laid down his chalk. “Perhaps we should take a short break.”

“No,” said Eowyn, fixing her husband with a glare—There will be no more tickling! Then, taking a deep breath and composing herself, she resumed her pose. “I am sorry. I will be fine now.”

…

“Remarkable,” said Faramir, unwrapping the finished drawing. “The way he has caught Eowyn looking so natural—it is as though she were just about to laugh… Thank you!”