It is late afternoon in the hills of Hollin. The road has been long, the march arduous. The travelers are tired.
Along the way tentative friendships are being forged amongst the members of the fellowship; distinct personality types are emerging.
Aragorn –strong, silent, courageous. Gandalf – wise, solemn, but not without a twinkle in his eye.
Boromir – reserved, watchful. Gimli – gruff, blustery, a bit of a braggart.
Merry and Pippin, both mischievous and always hungry. Frodo – quiet, reflective.
Sam – protective, quick to smile. And Legolas – keen, watchful…
And fashion conscious.
At high noon, after a long morning of walking, the group pauses for a rest and a spot of lunch.
Soon, the smell of roasting sausage and vegetables fills the air, and several of the fellowship stretch
out on the warm rocks, faces up to the glorious sun.
After a cursory inspection of the landscape, Legolas sits down, back against a stone, and opens his pack,
pulling out several bound paper bundles, which he proceeds to spread out in front of him, with obvious
“What, pray tell, are those?” asks Gimli, eyeing the papers with suspicion.
“My mail,” answered Legolas. “It just got forwarded from Rivendell this morning. It’s the beginning of the
month, you know, so all my subscriptions came at once!”
Unwillingly intrigued, the dwarf lumbers over to take a closer look. He hems and haws, scoffing aloud, until
he finds something of interest to him. He mutters something to Legolas, and is rewarded with a hearty,
“sure, sure, browse all you want.” Gimli retreats to a hollow, where he is soon joined by the curious
Samwise. After a moment, their two heads are close together, as they pore over a copy of “Short and
Portly”, geared towards the rotund population of middle earth.
“I haven’t seen one a’ these since we cleaned out Bag End!” exclaims Sam happily. “You know, Mr. Bilbo never
missed an issue. Dressin’ well was real important to Mr. Bilbo, wasn’t it Mr. Frodo?”
Frodo comes over to the two and peers over their shoulders. “Yes Sam, it was. Uncle had back issues of
these all the way back to the Third Age. Said there was no occasion not improved by a nice waistcoat or
“Hmmphh,” grumbles Gimli. “No armor, no boots. Not even a decent beard tie. You call this a fashion resource?”
“Check the dwarf accessories section,” directs Frodo. “Its usually starts around page 100.”
Shaking his head, Legolas thumbs through his pile. “Portly’s not your problem, Frodo. Your problem is
being short.” (Continues to search for several moments, then sighs) “But being vertically challenged
isn’t the end of the world. Let’s focus on the positives; for example, that hair! Is that natural curl?”
“Yes, its always been like this.”
“You are so lucky – I always wanted curly hair. Mine is so straight and just hangs there, no body to it at all…”
“Yes, well, you should try combing it out…arrgghh!”
Legolas nods understandingly, then moves briskly on to other matters. “Well, onto clothes.” Leans back and
squints against the sun. “I see you in dark, rich tones, to bring out your natural coloring while
creating an unbroken, slender line. Maybe a deep burgundy ( brings out a set of swatches) or a rich
brown ( burrows in backpack)…hey, who took my sketch pad?”
Merry and Pippin are seen busily drawing with crayons on Legolas’ sketch pad. “Hey, give me that,” snaps
the annoyed elf. “What do you think you’re doing?”
The two hobbits look askance at each other. Was it possible the elf was not as bright as he seemed?
“We are coloring”, says Merry, enunciating carefully.
“ I can see that!” snipes Legolas.
Pippin says indignantly “So what’s the problem? We stayed in the lines.”
“Ai yi yi!” grumbles Legolas, snatching the pad away. He surveys the pictre and says grudgingly. “Hmmm. Not
bad for amateurs.”
Not knowing what amateur means, but much cheered by the perceived compliment, Merry asks Legolas. “So what
do you think of our outfits?” Pippin looks up, face bright.
“Actually, your look works for you. I wouldn’t change a thing. Who’s the designer?” (Reaches into Pippin’s
shirt collar and pulls out a tag and reads) “Gar-an-imals. Garanimals?” Pippin smiles.
“Yeah, me mum thinks they’re the greatest! Sturdy, well-made and they always match. (Pulls out tag from breeches)
See, I’m wearing a tiger today! Rawwrrrr!”
Merry nods and adds, “And I’m a monkey!”
“And you smell like one too!!!” sings Pippin. Merry and Legolas both glare at Pippin, who skips merrily away.
Closing his eyes and praying for guidance, Legolas turns his attention to another member of the
fellowship. “Now see, Gandalf has made a good choice,” he stated to no one in particular. “Robes are great
because they have that wonderful flow to them and camouflage a multitude of figure problems.”
Gandalf turns to Legolas and growls. “I have no figure problems!”
“Ookayyy, whatever you say. You’re the wizard!”
Legolas returns to his post, and whips out a copy of ELQ – Elf Lords Quarterly – and dives in eagerly.
Aragorn, who has been silent up till now, takes this opportunity to ask, with just a hint of snideness in
his voice “Should I be worried, mellon Legolas, that while others carry food and drink, you carry fashion
Instantly defensive, Legolas replies “Well, you know I don’t sleep and I find reading very relaxing.
After all, I only buy these for the articles.” Tossing his read down on the pile, Gimli snorts and pulls the
copy of ELQ out of Legolas’s hand…
”Ach, look, they’re all wearing dresses!”
“If I’ve told you once, I’ve told you a thousand times, you ill-mannered midget – they’re tunics with belts!
Its very chic right now.” Gimli rolls his eyes and walks away.
Deciding that the best defense is a good offense, Legolas turns to Aragorn and says “And as for you,
mellon Aragorn… the cologne is a nice touch, but just dumping it on, layer upon layer…well, it should be a
friend who tells you this…its not working anymore. Lets face it, eventually you need to bathe and start
all over again. And as for the hair…a good crème rinse wouldn’t hurt. The length is ok, long hair works for
you, but you shouldn’t be a stranger to your comb. Maybe pulling it back would help, I’m not sure…” he
trails off, realizing the evil eye he is receiving from Aragorn is withering the wildflowers around them.
“Ok, we can talk about this later.”
He backs off, whistling, and almost stumbles over Boromir, who is methodically sharpening his short
dagger. The steward looks up, and says pleasantly enough “and what sartorial and hairstyle changes would
you recommend for me, Master Elf?”
Legolas is suddenly very aware of the sharp blade in the practiced hand of the inscrutable man before him.
“ Ah, Boromir, most handsome of men …wouldn’t change a thing!”
Boromir smiles as the sun sets over Hollin.