Mela had never seen men cry. She did now, as they lamented Gandalf's abrupt and horrific death on the mountainside. Years later and in an entirely different world, one of cell phones and hoods, an audience of Tolkien fans would wonder at the look on Mela's face right then. It appeared almost to be a caring, uncomprehending face reflecting the incident which just occurred, but only Mela knew that it was not. She was looking at her companion's faces. She had thought that they didn't cry, this species, and they had been good at disguising the fact that they did. Besides, Mela's pants were still too tight. Mela wondered if the same went for her own species, the feminine race; if, without knowing it, she too had secrets that she shared with other women but not men.

Mela would find out the answer soon. The fellowship of now eight dragged themselves into Lothlórien. Mela had always dreamed of visiting these woods, but had never gotten a chance. She wasn't grateful for it now.

The leaves were not truly golden; she could see Elves spray-painting them, and the sun didn't shine, but a large set of stage lights did. Mela had seen a postcard once of Lothlórien, and wished now that she could live in the postcard and not the actual forest. Her thoughts were interrupted by the hobbits Pippin and Merry, who were bouncing around her feet and pulling on her tunic.

"So, can we can we can we?" They rambled.

"Can you what?" Mela said, shoving them off of her clothes.

"Go to the gift shop! Galadrim Gifts; only the most infamous store in all of middle-earth!" Merry squeaked.

"Infamous?"

"Of course! It is guarantied that absolutely nothing you buy there will function properly. Instead, it will serve an entirely different purpose!"

"Alright, then. We will visit Galadrim Gifts!" Mela tried to sound enthusiastic.

Boromir looked at Mela. She could tell he was about to correct her.

"Uh . . . I mean, you can't go to Galadrim Gifts. It's all porn." She tried.

"No duh!" Pippin said, shaking his head.

Boromir breathed in, paused for suspense, and then started. "The Galadrim Gift Store, Inc., is only open once every moon. It will not be open again for . . . several weeks."

"Well, I get to be the new leader," Aragorn said, "so I'll decide what we will do." He pretended to look thoughtful. "Hmm . . . I have decided that this expedition is worthless. Let's just move on and forget about the gift shop."

The company looked at Aragorn as if he were insane. They promptly tied him up and stuck him in a tree.

"Come on," Boromir said, "We need to go meet Galadriel now."

"Then the gift shop?" Frodo whined.

"Whatever," Boromir said.

"Sam?" Mela asked.

"Yes, Legolas?" Sam said.

"No, not you, Sam."

"Oh." Sam sighed. "Frodo! Legolas wants you!"

"Did he make an appointment?" Frodo asked from inside his portable shade tent.

"Yes." Mela said.

"Yes." Sam said.

"Damn!" Frodo said.

"Sam?" Mela asked once she got inside Frodo's tent.

"My name is Frodo, but yeah?" Frodo said.

"I was wondering if I could have some of your gold-leaf royal toilet paper."

"What'll you trade me?"

"Trade you? Uh, how about this NES ticket?"

"Wow! Sure!" Frodo said enthusiastically.

Mela laughed on her way out. Hobbits were so stupid.

The next day, Galadriel and Celeborn met their visitors. Galadriel smiled and welcomed them,

"Welcome to Lórien, home of Galadrim Gift Enterprises. Because of your special mission, I will grant you each one coupon for a free gift from the gift shop. Unfortunately, the Galadrim Gift shop will not be open for at least another month. You are welcome to stay here, however, and wait for it to open so that you can collect your prize."

"You're wrong," came a voice from the corner. In a tiny cage was an Elf, crouching and trying to get out of the cage. "The correct line is from The Fellowship of the Ring, on page –"

But the Elf didn't get a chance to finish talking. "Shut up and sit down, Celeborn!" Galadriel ordered. Celeborn obeyed.

Mela watched Galadriel's eyes drift from person to person in the fellowship, apparently speaking with each one with her mind. Her eyes rested on Mela, and opened in surprise.

Galadriel regained her composure and Mela heard a voice in her head.

"What happens does for a reason. You are not very smart, so I will try to be less enigmatic, but I will say this: meet me tonight at midnight. I should be in a better mood; I want to play my favorite practical joke on the Ring bearer."

Mela nodded, unsure what to say, and Galadriel moved on to address Gimli. When she moved away from him, Mela looked to see why Gimli was laughing. In his hand, he had a large pair of scissors and had sheared off some of Galadriel's hair, which he was trying to stuff into his pocket before anyone saw. He had a mad-axe-murderer look on his face; it really scared Mela. He grinned very evilly and hid the shears back in his beard. Apparently one could store anything in one of those.

"Galadriel," Celeborn interrupted again. He had seen his wife's hair.

Galadriel fished a small box out of her pocket and pushed a button, shocking Celeborn who had the matching collar tied around his neck.

"Ow!" he said.

"Next time, shut your trap," Galadriel told him, annoyed.

"Yes, Gally."

Zap! Galadriel had pressed the button again.

"Ow! What was that for?"

"I told you never call me pet names in public. Refer to me as 'master.'"

"Yesum."

Zap!

"Ow! Yes, master!"

"That's better. Moving on, sleep wherever you want. Just stay away from my bathtub."

Merry, Pippin and Boromir exchanged raised eyebrows. 'Men are disgusting,' Mela thought, then corrected herself, 'Men and male hobbits are disgusting.'

That night, Mela met Galadriel at her tree house. They gave the password and climbed up the rope ladder.

"Soy mocha?" Galadriel offered.

"Yes, please!" Mela sighed. "I haven't had caffeine since I left Rivendell!"

"Oh, you poor, poor dear!" Galadriel put a reassuring hand on Mela's shoulder.

"You have no idea." Mela said.

"What is your name, honey?"

"Mela, daughter of Thranduil."

"A twin?"

"Yup."

"Hmm. You have made it this far . . . how extraordinary!"

"LOOK OUT BEHIND YOU!" Mela shouted. Gimli was standing directly behind Galadriel with the same crazed, wide-eyed expression he had earlier. This time he carried an electric razor and was reaching for Galadriel's scalp. She calmly reached behind her, grabbed Gimli and flipped him over her shoulder, before pushing him off of the edge of the tree house.

"This is why we keep Dwarves as far away as possible." Galadriel said.

"Oh."

"Look," Galadriel said, "I'll stall your brother as long as I can. It should give you enough time to visit the gift shop and start down the Anduin. I will also grant you a private chamber in a private tree house."

"Oh, thank you," Mela said. The lady's reputation was not nearly as generous as it should be, "One thing: is my brother having an affair with any Elves here?"

Galadriel laughed, "Oh, you found out about Arwen?"

"Mmmhmm."

"I wish I had been there."

"No you don't."

"Oh yes I do. No, Legolas only seduces dark-haired girls and everyone here is platinum blonde. Besides, he really loves Arwen," Galadriel said.

"Why don't they get married?" Mela asked, having forgotten.

"Arwen lost a bet."

"Oh yeah," Mela paused, "Does everyone know about this?"

"Aragorn doesn't."

"Ah. My world now makes sense."

"Well, darling, I have to go. I'm going to push Frodo into my bathtub."

"Why?"

"He's a real wimp, and it's funny to hear him scream that he's drowning in the two-some inches in it."

"Oh. Alright, then."

Galadriel stopped before climbing down the rope ladder, "I knew I forgot something. Here," she said, throwing a fortune cookie at Mela's head and disappearing.

"It's vegan!" Galadriel shouted from the ground.

Mela loved fortune cookies. She greedily snarfed this one down, and unfolded the fortune:

"Mela daughter of Thranduil, it is your destiny to fall in love with and be wedded to none other than a very handsome Frodo Baggins."

"Eww!" Mela shrieked, and sputtered the fortune cookie out of her mouth. She heard laughter in the distance. Apparently Galadriel had succeeded in pushing Frodo into her bathtub.

Frodo (or who Mela thought was Frodo), that chubby little hobbit who waited hand and foot on Sam (or who Mela thought was Sam), was destined to marry her? Mela considered her options. If she ignored the prophesy, she was bound to be caught off-guard. If she fulfilled it, perhaps she could control it and willingly fall in love with the hobbit. But why would anyone want to do that? Frodo (or who Mela thought was Frodo) had made fun of her in the NES that one night. But fate could not be fought . . .

"Legolas!" Aragorn shouted from the base of the tree, "There you are! Come on, we're going to T.P. Haldir's tree house!"

Finally some fun! Mela eagerly downed her Soy Mocha and leapt out of the tree house. Apparently only Boromir and Aragorn had been up to the prank, so it was just the three of them as they crept through the night.

Unfortunately, the three never made it to Haldir's tree house. They were bowled into by Celeborn, who looked as though every hair on his head had just been through shock collar treatment. It was more than Mela could deal with.

"Aragorn," she said, "Quick! Get me Gimli! Sit, Celeborn." Celeborn, well- trained, sat as Mela fished several bottles of hair products out of her travel bag (so that's what they were for) and got to work.

"What's the situation?" Gimli said, running up. Then he saw Celeborn's hair, "Oh, my cookies! Legolas, hand me the gel."

Two hours, four lemons and nine bottles of hair spray later, Celeborn looked himself. Mela, satisfied, turned to continue on with her friends and T.P. Haldir's house, but Celeborn caught her, Gimli and Aragorn by the sleeves. Boromir, glad that he was not imprisoned by an abused and insane Elf, ran off happily to T.P. Haldir's tree house.

"Children," Celeborn said, barely able to speak, "Children, listen to me. Never, in all of your existence, marry an Elf maiden." He stopped to catch his breath, then continued, "They're mad, every one of them!"

Aragorn looked uncomfortable, but Mela now fully supported the way Galadriel treated Celeborn. Aragorn left to T.P. Haldir's tree house, while Mela and Gimli retired to their chambers to replenish her hair supplies.

About a month later, The Galadrim Gift Shop was open, and the fellowship could leave after each choosing one souvenir. Mela was able to talk Boromir, Pippin and Merry into selecting a stylish belt, with the excuse that it could hold up their swords. She intended on stealing the belts later (they were so cute), but didn't realize that the belts' owners wouldn't be taking them off.

Gimli stole what was officially recorded as his "gift." He finally managed to sneak up from behind Galadriel and pull out a large chunk of her hair. What he used his coupon for, however, was a loom. Gimli was very excited about this; he couldn't wait to get to work on his braid.

Just to piss her off, Sam picked a BOX OF DIRT, which he ACCIDENTALY managed to SPILL ON MELA every FREAKING CHANCE HE GOT. Aaaagh! Mela saw that Aragorn had chosen an axe, and in her most manly voice possible said,

"Nice axe!"

Aragorn shook his head and walked away to check out, while Boromir screamed at the top of his lungs,

"IT'S A BLOODY SWORD!"

"Oh," Mela said. She busied herself in deciding what to get. It was between a pretty light bulb thing (with no specific purpose) and play-dough which was labeled, "Love Potion for the Lovelorn." Mela was not lovelorn, but the stuff might help her with the prophesy.

"Oooooo, pretty, I want one!" Frodo whined, pointing at the light bulb.

"Yes, Your Highness," Mela sighed as she unhappily handed over the light bulb. Darn! She was thinking of actually getting that one, too.

Galadriel came up behind Mela and poked her in the back, "You have to get the bow," she hissed, "I'll keep it here until your brother gets here and then I'll give it to him."

"Do I have to?" Mela whined.

"Of course," Galadriel said, then noticing what Mela was holding (the love potion), "Oh, not a bad choice. Just smuggle it out," she suggested, ripping off the anti-theft device on the packaging, "For the fortune cookie?"

Mela nodded.

"Do you plan on feeding it to yourself or Frodo?"

"Both of us will need it for the prophesy to happen," Mela sadly said.

From the Diary of Legolas Greenleaf:

Two days into my journey, Gwahir the eagle flew down and informed me that I had won a trip to Mordor World, the greatest amusement park in Middle- Earth! I landed here about lunch today and so far have ridden Mt. Doom and the Watchers' Merry – Go – Round. The Watchers' Merry-Go-Round was my favorite; I went on it nine times until I threw up! Hard core! It's too bad that the gift shop for it is all the way in Lothlórien; wow that place sounds familiar . . .

This morning I set out for the most popular ride in Mordor World, the Tower of Barad-Dur, which drops you dozens of black stories all the way from the top! Unfortunately it was closed for repair, but should be open soon. The crowds here are enormous compared to the last time I was here!

It is supper now (several weeks later; I've been waiting for the Tower of Barad-Dur to open) and I just realized that I am supposed to be in Lothlórien. Oops. Well, Gwahir disappeared as soon as he dropped me off, so I guess I'll have to walk. Sigh. I miss Arwen. I wish I had some tic-tacs so that I could be depressed and curl up in a corner.