She could make a flower appear on her face just by looking at it and then thinking about it. This morning she had seen a blue morning-glory in the Baggins garden. And she thought of the lad who had watched her that night, how his eyes were near the same shade.
She bent over the forest pool sparkling greenly and silverly in the noonday sunlight, carelessly ordering her long hair to stay back. And an imprint of the morning-glory showed beneath her left eye, looking pleased to be upon such a lovely background.
I've a mortal tattoo, she thought laughing.