Legolas Greenleaf pulled several strands of his long blond hair over his forehead and into sight. He began to braid the pieces together in an intricate weave. By the time he had completely finished with his hair, they would be ready. Tradition was boring, but he understood the need for it. Elders hated change almost as much as Mother Nature herself. Middle Earth was not known for hospitality to those that went against the grain. Still, tradition made the wait before meetings almost unbearably long.
The blue eyed elf Prince had just finished when footsteps approached, his sharp hearing picking them up several doorways away from his position. He quickly ran his hands through his hair, frantically tearing the braids out so that his sleek blond locks were once again flowing in the acceptable style. Elrond had been known to kick elves out of meetings for wearing cornrows, it was frowned down upon by all Elders. The footsteps got closer and Legolas started to backpedal away from his hiding place as he continued to de-knot and un-braid the hair.
"Legolas? Your presence is needed."
The Prince relaxed, his shoulders slumping in relief. It was Arwen. She shared his love of alternate hair styles. Everything would be alright.
-THE END