For Pippin's Wolf, who put the idea in my head.
"Really,
Merry, it doesn't look that bad," Pippin said in a reassuring
voice. "I don't think anyone will even notice."
"Not even notice?" Merry answered, his voice rising to a scratchy
peak. "How could they not notice?"
"Hush, Merry, and hold still," Frodo said, not
quite able to keep the amusement out of his voice. "You should be
glad that the worst damage here is going to be to your vanity."
Sam, carefully rubbing salve onto the now-furless top of Merry's
left foot, muttered something that sounded suspicously
like, "Not that his vanity couldn't use some trimming."
"What's that, Sam?" Merry said sharply. "If I didn't know
better, I'd think you were pleased by all this."
"Mr. Merry, you know I'd never want to see you hurt," Sam said
stoutly, and then dug his fingers firmly into Merry's
foot. Merry gave a little squeak and his leg, held aloft in Frodo's hands,
twitched. "There now, hold still," Sam added. "It's for your own
good."
"Pippin," Merry said, gritting his teeth, "no more roasting nuts
for you. Ever."
"I'm sorry, Mer," Pippin said
mournfully. "It was hot. It just flew out of my hands -- I couldn't
help it!"
"It was hot because it was on fire, dearest," Frodo said. "Which you might have noticed if you had not been blinded by
your greed."
"I was hungry," Pippin said woefully, and blinked back
tears of remorse.
"It's all right, Pip," Merry soothed. "My foot fur will grow
back. And it would seem my vanity could use some trimming."
"If you think so, Mr. Merry," Sam said, not bothering to hide his
grin.
"Frodo, why don't you have proper servants?" Merry asked.
"Because they wouldn't allow the likes of you in the smial,
Merry-lad," Frodo said without hesitation, and Merry could not help but
laugh with him.