A/N: Please ignore the collective Out of Character-ness of the Elves. I did that on purpose. Except in the case of Legolas, who is not intended to be OOC, so if he is, please let me know.

I own nothing. As for my stand on what Legolas' real hair color is, I really have no idea. I don't see why he couldn't be blonde as his father and a bunch of his people are, but it is more likely he is a brunette, due to his heritage. Just do your best to enjoy the chapter, whatever your stand on the subject is.

On another note, I seem to have been stricken with the Pernese Plague (I.E. the flu). Chapters may be a little slow in coming (or quicker, since I have more of a reason not to do schoolwork now). *cough*


The Mall of Arda

By Andtauriel Longwood Baggins


Chapter 2: Come to the Blonde Side, Legolas!

At first I thought that the strange building of glass and stone was deserted. Were I not an elf, my footsteps would have echoed in the vast hall. Even the soft sound of my shoes against the smooth squares spread evenly across the floor was audible in the silence. My sharp ears picked up the faint sounds of footsteps other than my own somewhere in the structure (WAS this Rivendell? It looked so strange!), so I knew I was not the only one there. I ran my hands along the smooth wall, marveling at the alien feel of the surface. I had never seen a place like this in my life, and as I am an elf, that is saying something.

"Legolas?" a voice called behind me, and I looked over my shoulder. At the end of the long hall a blonde elf was peering out one of the many doors at me. I recognized him instantly, and smiled.

"Lord Glorfindel!" I called, striding swiftly down the hall to meet him. " Elen sila lumenn omentilmo!"

" Mae govannen," Glorfindel replied, smiling back at me. I am afraid I was so relieved to see a familiar face that I must have looked a bit overeager to see him. If I did, he did not appear to notice. I took heart from this and went on.

"I was on my way to Imladris, but I must have gotten lost . . . What IS this place?" I said, looking around at the unfamiliar architecture. Glorfindel stared at me, looking perplexed.

"But this IS Imladris!" he said, and I stared at him. "Surely you knew Elrond was redecorating?"

"I would say this is a great more than redecoration . . ." I said, raising one smooth, dark brow. Glorfindel merely smiled.

"You must not have heard." He said vaguely.

"Heard what?" I asked.

"Elrond has decided to go into the business of commercialism. Times are hard, Legolas, and a dollar does not go as far as it used to. But surely you know that."

"What?"

"Imladris is now Arda's first ever shopping mall!" Glorfindel beamed expectantly at me, but I only continued to stare.

"What in Eru's Name are you talking about?" I asked, utterly bewildered. Half of the words Glorfindel had told me I had not recognized and the rest made no sense. "What in Middle-earth is a shopping mall, and why is Lord Elrond turning his beautiful home into one?"

"But I just told you!" Glorfindel protested.

I sighed. "Please, my friend, explain again."

So Glorfindel explained in great deal what a "shopping mall" was. I must admit that by the end of his lecture I was still quite perplexed. I understood that a shopping mall was a place for large amounts of people to spend a great deal of money purchasing anything from clothing to food to replacement axe handles, but I can't say I found the idea of Rivendell full of a crowd of people particularly attractive. However, Imladris belonged to Elrond, not me, but I hoped he had not posed the idea of a "Mall" to my father. I do not think I would have liked one in Mirkwood.

"I . . . see." I said finally, once Glorfindel had finished speaking (although to be perfectly honest, I didn't see at all). "Perhaps I should find Lord Elrond now."

"Nonsense!" Glorfindel said, grinning cheerily at me. "You haven't seen my shop yet!"

"Your . . . shop?" I asked in bewilderment.

"Certainly. I couldn't let Elrond get himself into this wild venture without taking part, now could I?"

I thought he most certainly could, but didn't say so. Glorfindel was eyeing me like a Dwarf eyes mithril, and such scrutiny made me quite uneasy.

"No, really, I must be going . . ." I insisted, but Glorfindel grabbed my arm firmly and began steering me down the hall.

"A few more minutes can not hurt, my dear Prince. You can be my first customer!" The Elf Lord said happily.

"Your what?"

"Well technically, the Mall of Arda does not open to the public for a month or so. But for you, I shall be quite happy to make an exception." Glorfindel stopped in front of a pair of elegantly cut glass doors, behind which was a small room full of bottles of various shapes and sizes and many pictures of elves with very lovely hair. A few small chairs were set around a table containing a few elvish books, and about three larger padded chairs were fixed to the ground in the smooth stone-like floor at the back. The whole place was brightly lit, and ornately carved letters above the doors spelled out what I presumed was the name of the shop (again, I could not read the unfamiliar runes).

"Welcome," Glorfindel said, releasing my arm and gesturing happily at the room. "To Glorfindel's Hair and Beauty Salon!" He beamed at me brilliantly, and I merely stared.

"It's . . . um . . . nice," I said after a few seconds. What else could I say? The valiant Elf Lord seemed to have taken leave of his sanity. And his usual personality.

"Isn't it, though?" Glorfindel said fondly, looking at the shop. He then turned to me and began running his hands through my dark hair. My eyes widened and I jumped to evade his hands. I did not welcome such physical proximity.

"Oh, don't be so jumpy, Legolas!" Glorfindel laughed. "You MUST let me do your hair."

I stared some more. "Do what with it?"

"You know! Wash it, trim it, style it! It's about time you had a change."

"I like my hair the way it is, thank you. And I REALLY must find Lord Elrond . . ."

"He won't notice if you're a few minutes late. Please, Legolas? Do me the honor of being my first customer, won't you? It's on the house!" Glorfindel looked at me beseechingly. I was speechless. Was Glorfindel of Rivendell actually *pouting* at me? This was rapidly turning out to be the strangest day of my life. And why would I want to have my hair done on a house?

"Oh . . .fine." I said, rolling my eyes and sighing. "Please, don't do anything drastic to it, though." I ran my hands protectively over my smooth, dark hair.

"Of course not." Glorfindel said, grabbing my arm again. Before I had a chance to react, he had dragged me over to one of the padded chairs, wrapped white cloak around my neck and across my front, and pushed me into a chair. He grabbed a lever on the side of the chair, and the back suddenly went down, and I with it. I stared in surprise up at Glorfindel, who grabbed a pitcher of water from the side of what seemed to be a basin under my head, and poured it over my hair. He grabbed a bottle and poured a thick substance from it into his hand, which he then began to work across my damp scalp.

"So! What brings you to Imladris, Legolas?" he said as he worked his fingers through my hair. It felt rather nice, actually, having someone wash my hair for me. Perhaps this "Salon" was a better idea than I had thought it would be.

"Lord Elrond sent a summons to Mirkwood. It sounded urgent, and I -"

"That's nice. So tell me, how is your father?"

I humored Glorfindel with small talk of Mirkwood as he washed, dried, and trimmed my hair. I assumed he was done after he placed his delicate scissors back on the small table, but he pulled me back down as I tried to rise.

"Oh no you don't," he chuckled. "I've got something else in mind for you."

With some misgivings, I settled back and let Glorfindel continue working.
---

"Done!"

The Elf Lord whipped off my white cloak and spun my chair around to face a mirror.

"What did you DO to it?!" I cried, after I had finished staring in shock.

"Dyed it!" Glorfindel said brightly. "Do you like it?"

I sputtered wordlessly for a rather long time. My hair, my lovely dark hair, was blonde. Platinum blonde. I was speechless. Oh, my father was blonde, and some of our people were blonde as well, but I had always had very dark hair, like most of the Elves of Mirkwood did. Certainly there was nothing wrong with blonde hair. I had just never imagined myself with it. It was rather shocking to see my reflection staring back at me as a blonde.

"Oh, I just KNEW you'd like it!" Glorfindel was beaming. "I'd do your eyebrows as well, but that would just wash them out completely, what with your skin tone."

I stared. I had been doing that a lot that day.

"Blonde is so in this year, you know." Glorfindel chattered on, stopping up various bottles and replacing them on the shelves.

"In what?" I asked. Merciful Eru, my hair was BLONDE!

"In!" Glorfindel seemed to think this explained everything. "You'll have to beat the ladies off with a stick."

"I don't really want to beat any ladies at all."

Glorfindel chuckled. "I can't believe you didn't dye it sooner. Blonde is SO your color."

I decided that was a compliment. "Do you think so?"

"Oh, definitely."

I stared at my reflection and tilted my head to the side. I had to admit, now that the shock was over, I DID look quite good with blonde hair . . .

"Well . . . thank you, I suppose . . ." I said, standing up and brushing stray hair clippings off my tunic. "I really must find Lord Elrond now. Have you seen him?"

"Not today." Glorfindel pressed a bottle into my hand. "Now if you MUST wash it, use this. The color should stay for at least three years, but after that you'll need a touch up."

"Three years?" I exclaimed. "Won't my hair have grown out by then in my natural color?"

"Not if you touch up the roots with that." Glorfindel pointed to the bottle.

"How is that possible?"

"Now now, Legolas," Glorfindel said, preening. "I can't go revealing my secrets to just everyone, now can I? My competition would just DIE to get their hands on that information!"

I had no idea what competition would want Glorfindel's hair care secrets, but I did not say so. I was late enough to see Lord Elrond as it was. I gave Glorfindel a polite farewell and started to leave the shop. Just in front of the elegant doors, I stopped and looked over my shoulder, smiling mischeviously.

"You've been dying Father's hair for years, haven't you?" I said, with the air of one who has just reached an epiphany. Glorfindel grinned.

"Maybe," he said impishly.

"Well it's very realistic." I complimented him, and exited the store, laughing.

---

Second A/N: forgive me if that was a little unbelievable. I know next to nothing about the care of dyed hair. But I'm sure that if Elves got it into their heads to start changing each others hair color, they'd be very good at keeping it looking nice.