Legolas Greenleaf, Agent of MESS, in
You Only Live Forever
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Disclaimer: This is a work of fanfiction, which is why I am posting it on this site. Legolas and associated characters were created by JRR Tolkien. James Bond was created by Ian Fleming. Legolas' appearance belongs to Orlando Bloom in a wig.
Author's Notes: The title is sort of taken from "Pink Lights and Champagne", from "Casino Royale". This whole chapter, now that I read it again, contains what can only be described as dramatic irony. That's what you get from studying English.
A brief note on updates: I shall strive my hardest not to update later than a week apart. The chapters here are twice as long as in "Ringfinger" and consequently take rather longer tot ype. But I'm doing my best, honest.
Review replies:
THECheeseTurkey: Most original? I don't know...I rather nicked a lot of ideas from dear old Mr Fleming. But thanks anyway! That's an interesting name you have there.
theinklesspen: thank you!
Nemo Returning: Oh, I didn't, did I? Not the twinkling eyes! Oh, I am so ashamed. It's just something about old men with beards and magical properties; they just need twinkling eyes. There're probably people paid to follow them round pointing torches in their ears. And this is a lot longer than the last fic.
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Chapter 2. Moonlight and Lembasbread
The journey to Dimrill Dale took only a little time that night. Shadowfax and Hasufel made short work of the distance, following the merry-watered Celebrant up the valley. Greenleaf felt his spirits rise as they rode on, with the stars gleaming overhead. He was out on a job again, away from the drudges of paperwork. There would, hopefully, be orcs to kill and adventures to be had. Life was good and he felt alive again. He was happy.
At least, until the Dwarf behind him shifted and grumbled under his breath. His hands tightened on Greenleaf's waist as Shadowfax went over a rougher patch of ground. The Elf felt the rough beard scratching against his back and he sighed. A Dwarf. Of all the races of Middle Earth, it had to be a Dwarf. He hated the creatures, with their short stature, their haste to anger, and their general hairiness. They lived in deep caves below the ground, where they hewed and slaved at the rock. Such an unpleasant way of life bred unpleasant people. It wasn't that Greenleaf was a racist, per say. It was just that that was how he knew Dwarves.
Men were better, he supposed. They were at least of a decent height. But even they couldn't really compare to Elves. Their senses were dull, their strength lesser, and they had not lived long enough to properly hone their skills. Their lives were laughably short in the eyes of an Elf. If Greenleaf had lived among Men then he would have seen countless numbers die, merely of old age. Men seemed so transient, like a flower that buds, blooms and fades in a few days, or even hours.
Aragorn was different. He had Elven blood in him for a start, from the Numenorean line. He was older than he appeared in comparison to other Men, and would live longer. He had proved his worth in Isengard in Greenleaf's opinion. Obviously, he wasn't up to Elf standards, but Greenleaf was actually quite glad to be working with him again. He didn't feel the need to be watching him the whole time. The Man could be relied on.
The Dale became visible ahead, and they slowed their horses. The entrance to the Mines was a dark mark against the rocks, almost invisible.
"Do you know something of the area?" Greenleaf asked, turning to speak to Gimli.
The Dwarf clutched at the Elf as he almost fell off, short legs unable to grip the horse's bare back.
"I do," he said, attempting to look calm.
"Then where would you suggest we camp for the remainder of the night?" the Elf asked.
Gimli frowned for a moment. "Just up to the left here," he said, "in the edge of the trees. We'll be out of sight there."
Following the Dwarf's directions, the three were soon at the spot he had described. They dismounted –Gimli grudgingly accepting Greenleaf's help- and allowed Hasufel and Shadowfax to wander among the trees a little, though not out of sight. They laid their bags down on the ground.
"We'd better not light a fire," Aragorn warned, settling down by a tree, "it'd be seen."
"Right," Gimli grunted, sitting himself and picking up an axe. He began to whet the edge of the blade with slow rhythmic movements.
Greenleaf remained standing, gazing out over the open area of Dimrill Dale. "You can smell the orcs," he said quietly, "they're in there all right." He turned his head to look at his companions. "Get some sleep," he told them, "I shall keep watch."
That said he turned away again. He heard Gimli grumbling as he fussed around, but finally all was silent. Apart, that was, from the gentle buzzing of the Dwarf's snores. Greenleaf shot a venomous glare at the sleeping form, which of course did no good but made him feel better. The sky was clear above them, allowing the moon to illuminate the area. The Elf, standing completely still beside a tree, surveyed it all with a practised eye.
Their assignment sounded simple enough. Get into the orcs' lair, find out where their boss was and get out alive. Simple, though the caves were a complicating factor. Greenleaf wasn't afraid of caves –far from it, being as their homes in Mirkwood were caves- but these were much larger. They were mines, hewn by the Dwarves. Any race that lived their lives so deep underground couldn't be worth associating with. Greenleaf scowled. Damn Dwarves. He could have done this job on his own, were it not for the fact that it was in caves where a guide would be needed. And G, in her wisdom, had decided upon a Dwarf for that duty. Even Greenleaf had to admit that it made sense, though that didn't mean he had to like it. Aragorn had probably been brought in to keep Elf and Dwarf away from each other's throats.
A pair of orcs left the gateway of the Mines, crossing the rocks at the head of the Dale. They came to a halt a little way from the Hunters' campsite, sitting on two boulders. Greenleaf watched them but didn't move. He listened to their conversation.
"All I'm saying, Mauhúr, is that we lost the entire patrol in that last attempt," one said, pulling out a knife and picking his nails with it. He ate what he picked out.
"It is necessary, Grishnákh," Mauhúr replied, "you know that he wants that thing. We ain't got no option."
"I'm getting sick of that Uglúk and his bunch lording over us. Just 'cause they're bigger and 'better'." Grishnákh spat on the floor.
"And if they hear you say that then you'll be for it," his companion warned, glancing around, "'sides, what've they ever done to you?"
"We've pulled guard duty here for the last three weeks," Grishnákh grumbled, "tell me that ain't coincidence."
"Well, it won't be the same when we get back to Mordor," Mauhúr placated him, "our boss won't stand for it, and their's won't say anything."
Grishnákh agreed with a grunt and they both fell into silence. Greenleaf remained leaning against his tree, perfectly still so as not to be seen. What he had just heard was very interesting indeed. Gimli's snores were still vibrating behind him, but the orcs didn't seem to have heard, luckily. Greenleaf didn't hold much with luck. Dratted Dwarf, he thought, he could jeopardise this entire mission if he's not careful.
"I bloody hate guard duty," Grishnákh muttered, "always sittin' out here in the cold."
"Do you always have to moan?" Mauhúr asked. "It won't be for much longer anyway. And you know it's too bloody hot there."
"I know, I know." Grishnákh stood and paced a little way from his rock. He rapped the butt of his spear on the ground irritably. "But it's boring."
Mauhúr merely snorted and leant himself back. Grishnákh walked across the flat area, swinging his arms. He stared round the edge, squinting his tiny little eyes. The trees comfortably shaded the ground beneath their branches; comfortably for those hidden there at least. The orc eyed the darkness suspiciously, but did nothing more. Too many nights of absolutely nothing had made him complacent. The moon and stars shone brightly overhead, but he wasn't interested.
"You got anything to drink?" he asked, settling himself back beside Mauhúr. "I'm dyin' for a swig of something."
"You always are," the other orc grumbled, but passed him a flask nonetheless. Grishnákh took a long swig and belched loudly.
"That's the stuff," he said, taking another swig before passing it back. "Not as good as we've got back in-."
"Shut up," Mauhúr interrupted, "you've a bloody one track mind, you have. Just for once, let's do guard duty in silence. It'll be good for me ears, at least."
"Don't be such a miserable git," Grishnákh muttered, but was silent anyway.
The rest of the night –as much as it was- passed quietly. Greenleaf leant against his tree, as still as he had been since stopping. He drifted into reverie, but still stayed alert in case anything happened. The moon sank as the remaining hours passed, its silver light gradually fading as it went. The stars disappeared one by one as the dawn glow began to spread across the sky. Dew rose on the small patches of grass and Greenleaf could feel the trees beginning to wake, stretching their branches and sending sap through their wood. Out among the rocks, Mauhúr gave a grunt.
"C'mon," he said, poking the recumbent form of the other, "time to go in."
Still half asleep and blinking his tiny little eyes, Grishnákh followed the other orc up the Dale and into the Mines. They vanished into the darkness. Greenleaf sighed and stretched his back. The orcs wouldn't be out today. Normal orcs couldn't stand the light of the sun, and even the Uruk Hai preferred the cover of night. If they were trying to stay hidden then they would keep down in the Mines. The Elf turned and moved to wake his companions.
Aragorn woke as soon as Greenleaf squeezed his shoulder. The Dwarf was harder to wake. Eventually Greenleaf succeeded by dripping a little water onto Gimli's face. A snort heralded the Dwarf's awakening. He sat up and glared at the Elf, who sat calmly back on his heels and looked at the other.
"You'll have to wake easier than that, Master Dwarf," he told him, "an orc could have got you, easy as anything."
"I'd have heard an orc coming," Gimli said, still glaring, "but you, Master Elf, are too light-footed. Elves and their damned sneaking around."
"What's for breakfast?" Aragorn asked, breaking up any burgeoning argument.
"Lembasbread," Greenleaf said, pulling some out of his pack. He divided it up and handed it out. Gimli looked at his askance.
"This may keep an Elf alive," he complained, "being as they're skinny as birds. But a Dwarf cannot survive on this!"
"It is more filling than you think," Aragorn cut in, before Greenleaf could retort, "just eat it."
With a sceptical look on his face, Gimli did so, though he seemed more content by the time he had finished it.
"So," he said, picking crumbs out of his beard, "it's reconnaissance today, is it? Sneaking around as the goblins sleep inside."
"I think you'll find," Greenleaf said, his tone somewhat strained, "that most of this mission is 'sneaking around', indeed all of it. And the orcs will not all be asleep."
"That's one thing that puzzled me," Aragorn commented. "How come we're going in at night, when they'll all be awake?"
"We should be less noticed while they're all up and around," Greenleaf explained, "orcs aren't renowned for their eyesight, but they'd hear us if we were the only ones moving about. And we'll be more likely to hear something if they're awake and talking."
He picked up his pack from the ground, refastening it tightly. Grasping a tree branch above his head, he pulled himself up in a quick movement, one foot braced against the trunk. He swung round to balance on the tree's long limb. Gimli watched as Greenleaf wedged his pack high in the branches.
"Pass yours up," the Elf instructed, reaching down. Aragorn did so, and all three packs were soon hidden. Greenleaf leapt down, landing lightly on the soft ground.
"Where are we going to start?" Aragorn asked.
"Spying out our entrance would seem sensible," Greenleaf answered. He turned to Gimli, trying to remember to remain civil. "Do you know of a secret way in?"
"That I do," the Dwarf said, sounding fairly smug, "round to the right of the main entrance there."
"Then that's where we'll start," Greenleaf said, shouldering his bow, "we'll keep to the trees as much as possible. Lead on, Master Dwarf."
The odd threesome made their way round the edge of the open area. The sun was rising in the East, beginning to spread its light down from the tops of the Misty Mountains. Gimli stumped his way along under the trees, humming very quietly to himself. The Elf and the Man followed behind. It wasn't long before they were standing in front of a small insignificant-looking cave in the side of the rock. Gimli moved forward and brushed some of the vegetation aside.
"Here," he said gruffly, "through here. There's a small passageway that comes out in a side tunnel. It's not very well known."
"Looks quite small," Aragorn commented, stooping to see in.
"It gets a bit higher further on," Gimli said, "but it was built for Dwarves, not you tall folks."
"It'll do fine," Greenleaf said, "will we need torches to see the way?"
"They would be more likely to get us spotted, wouldn't they?" Gimli asked, then continued. "I'll be all right. You'll just have to watch your heads, that's all."
"We can do that," Greenleaf assured him, with more than a hint of sarcasm. He walked away from the rock face and looked out over the downward slope of the base of the mountains. "It would seem logical that the orcs will have been using the Dale as their exit and entrance way, if Sauron's base is in Mordor. They'll probably have travelled some way south of Lórien before turning eastwards. We should check the closest part of their route for any clues."
"Good idea," Aragorn agreed, "better than sitting around waiting for dusk. Their trail shouldn't be too hard to find."
It was a short walk round the south side of the Dale, and as Aragorn had predicted, the orc trail was easy to see, though it had not been trodden in recent days. Branches at the side of the track had been knocked and broken, pale ends showing through the dark cracked bark. The grass was still partially flattened, and vegetation was torn. Aragorn, the Ranger, surveyed the trail with an expert eye. He stooped to pick up a piece of metal, holding it out to the others.
"Orcish armour," he said.
Greenleaf took it to examine. It was dark and slightly rusty, splattered with dark substances and something that could have been white.
"There's been more than one lot along here," Aragorn continued, "and at different times, in different-sized groups. It's certainly a well-used route."
They tracked it a little way, but not far. It soon became clear that once further from the Mines, the orcs had taken more care to hide their trail.
"It would probably be possible to follow it all the way to Mordor," Aragorn said, "but we'd have to go slowly for fear of missing it. We couldn't ride."
"That's why we need to get in there," Greenleaf said with a smile. He looked up at the sky, seeing the sun high. "Time for lunch, I suppose."
Personally, he wasn't hungry, but he knew that both the Man and the Dwarf would be. He walked off a little to perch on a rock. Gimli sat against a tree, concentrating his attentions on his axe once again, sharpening the edge. Greenleaf looked up as Aragorn came up behind him. The Man sat down next to the Elf.
"You don't like him, do you?" he asked, gesturing towards Gimli.
"He's a Dwarf," was Greenleaf's short reply. His face was serene as he stared at the sky, following the course of a bird too distant for the Man's eyes.
Aragorn sighed. "We do all have to work together." He sighed. "Can't you pretend to like him or something?"
Greenleaf favoured him with a scathing look. "I am being perfectly civil. I do appreciate the fact that we have to work together, but I don't need to like him."
"All right!" Aragorn said with a laugh. "You'll probably never have to see him again after this mission anyway."
"Here's hoping," Greenleaf commented dryly.
"It's only a short one, at least," the Man said, "just get in, get what we want, and get out. Simple, really."
"I certainly hope so." The Elf rolled his eyes. "Before that Dwarf drives me crazy."
After lunch they checked through the rest of the woods. Knowing the terrain was an essential part of any mission. Greenleaf found himself walking alongside Gimli, through no fault of his own. He frowned darkly whenever he thought the Dwarf wasn't looking. Gimli was just so irritating! He just strolled along humming some awful Dwarvish song –probably one about gold- with no regard for anyone else. Greenleaf wasn't really into Dwarf music; too many 'heigh ho's for his taste.
"What's got you so miserable, Master Elf?" Gimli suddenly asked, noticing Greenleaf's sour look. "Not looking forward to the Mines?"
The Elf looked at him sharply. "I fear no caves, Master Dwarf," he snapped. He turned his head, facing away from the Dwarf. In doing this he failed to see the mantrap before he stood in it.
The metal jaws, edged with sharp points, sprang upwards. There was no time to leap up or out of the way, no way to avoid those teeth. Greenleaf felt them just beginning to dig into the flesh of his calf, when they stopped abruptly. He looked down to see Gimli's axe handle wedged in the trap, effectively holding the trap from closing completely.
"Watch your step," the Dwarf said lightly. Greenleaf's eyes narrowed, but he said nothing.
Aragorn caught them both up and took hold of the axe with Gimli. Together, they used it as a lever, opening the trap. It was slow-going; the trap was old and stiff. Inch by inch, the jaws widened, eventually allowing Greenleaf to slip out of it. Gimli yanked his axe out, leaving the trap to snap shut harmlessly.
"Are you all right?" Aragorn asked, touching Greenleaf's shoulder. The Elf was bent over, rubbing his leg where the trap had caught it.
"Fine," he replied. The metal teeth had not cut into his skin, but there would be bruises. He glanced over to where Gimli stood, fingering a scratch along his axe handle.
"Thanks," he managed to offer, though he consoled himself by thinking how it was the Dwarf's fault really.
Gimli snorted. "Couldn't have you getting incapacitated before tonight, could I?"
Greenleaf almost retorted, but held his tongue. The mission would be over soon, and he would never have to see the Dwarf again afterwards.
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Additional Notes (yes, more. On characters this time): As characters go, fitting them in roles was fairly easy. Legolas Greenleaf is my dashing secret agent, complete with an old-fashioned set of prejudices. Splendid. The fact of him being from Mirkwood makes him different from the Lothlórien Elves, in the way that James Bond has a Scottish father and Swiss mother (according to the biography penned by M in "You Only Live Twice"). Aragorn has, quite nicely, fitted into the role of Felix Leiter (as Idlewild pointed out quite correctly –good work!). That does rather explain some things that happen within this fic (cough –say no more). Rather oddly, Gimli has replaced the ever-present 'Bond girl', though without the physical attraction (unless you happen to like short hairy men with a penchant for axes). This will not be a slash fic, it is not my intention to pair off characters in that way in this fic (I have other fics for that). G is naturally taking the place of M, with all her mysteriousness and power. Gandalf, as U, makes a charming replacement for Q; he's just as much a genius. And as for the bad guys. . .wait and see. I'll say no more now, but read carefully.
You Only Live Forever
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Disclaimer: This is a work of fanfiction, which is why I am posting it on this site. Legolas and associated characters were created by JRR Tolkien. James Bond was created by Ian Fleming. Legolas' appearance belongs to Orlando Bloom in a wig.
Author's Notes: The title is sort of taken from "Pink Lights and Champagne", from "Casino Royale". This whole chapter, now that I read it again, contains what can only be described as dramatic irony. That's what you get from studying English.
A brief note on updates: I shall strive my hardest not to update later than a week apart. The chapters here are twice as long as in "Ringfinger" and consequently take rather longer tot ype. But I'm doing my best, honest.
Review replies:
THECheeseTurkey: Most original? I don't know...I rather nicked a lot of ideas from dear old Mr Fleming. But thanks anyway! That's an interesting name you have there.
theinklesspen: thank you!
Nemo Returning: Oh, I didn't, did I? Not the twinkling eyes! Oh, I am so ashamed. It's just something about old men with beards and magical properties; they just need twinkling eyes. There're probably people paid to follow them round pointing torches in their ears. And this is a lot longer than the last fic.
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Chapter 2. Moonlight and Lembasbread
The journey to Dimrill Dale took only a little time that night. Shadowfax and Hasufel made short work of the distance, following the merry-watered Celebrant up the valley. Greenleaf felt his spirits rise as they rode on, with the stars gleaming overhead. He was out on a job again, away from the drudges of paperwork. There would, hopefully, be orcs to kill and adventures to be had. Life was good and he felt alive again. He was happy.
At least, until the Dwarf behind him shifted and grumbled under his breath. His hands tightened on Greenleaf's waist as Shadowfax went over a rougher patch of ground. The Elf felt the rough beard scratching against his back and he sighed. A Dwarf. Of all the races of Middle Earth, it had to be a Dwarf. He hated the creatures, with their short stature, their haste to anger, and their general hairiness. They lived in deep caves below the ground, where they hewed and slaved at the rock. Such an unpleasant way of life bred unpleasant people. It wasn't that Greenleaf was a racist, per say. It was just that that was how he knew Dwarves.
Men were better, he supposed. They were at least of a decent height. But even they couldn't really compare to Elves. Their senses were dull, their strength lesser, and they had not lived long enough to properly hone their skills. Their lives were laughably short in the eyes of an Elf. If Greenleaf had lived among Men then he would have seen countless numbers die, merely of old age. Men seemed so transient, like a flower that buds, blooms and fades in a few days, or even hours.
Aragorn was different. He had Elven blood in him for a start, from the Numenorean line. He was older than he appeared in comparison to other Men, and would live longer. He had proved his worth in Isengard in Greenleaf's opinion. Obviously, he wasn't up to Elf standards, but Greenleaf was actually quite glad to be working with him again. He didn't feel the need to be watching him the whole time. The Man could be relied on.
The Dale became visible ahead, and they slowed their horses. The entrance to the Mines was a dark mark against the rocks, almost invisible.
"Do you know something of the area?" Greenleaf asked, turning to speak to Gimli.
The Dwarf clutched at the Elf as he almost fell off, short legs unable to grip the horse's bare back.
"I do," he said, attempting to look calm.
"Then where would you suggest we camp for the remainder of the night?" the Elf asked.
Gimli frowned for a moment. "Just up to the left here," he said, "in the edge of the trees. We'll be out of sight there."
Following the Dwarf's directions, the three were soon at the spot he had described. They dismounted –Gimli grudgingly accepting Greenleaf's help- and allowed Hasufel and Shadowfax to wander among the trees a little, though not out of sight. They laid their bags down on the ground.
"We'd better not light a fire," Aragorn warned, settling down by a tree, "it'd be seen."
"Right," Gimli grunted, sitting himself and picking up an axe. He began to whet the edge of the blade with slow rhythmic movements.
Greenleaf remained standing, gazing out over the open area of Dimrill Dale. "You can smell the orcs," he said quietly, "they're in there all right." He turned his head to look at his companions. "Get some sleep," he told them, "I shall keep watch."
That said he turned away again. He heard Gimli grumbling as he fussed around, but finally all was silent. Apart, that was, from the gentle buzzing of the Dwarf's snores. Greenleaf shot a venomous glare at the sleeping form, which of course did no good but made him feel better. The sky was clear above them, allowing the moon to illuminate the area. The Elf, standing completely still beside a tree, surveyed it all with a practised eye.
Their assignment sounded simple enough. Get into the orcs' lair, find out where their boss was and get out alive. Simple, though the caves were a complicating factor. Greenleaf wasn't afraid of caves –far from it, being as their homes in Mirkwood were caves- but these were much larger. They were mines, hewn by the Dwarves. Any race that lived their lives so deep underground couldn't be worth associating with. Greenleaf scowled. Damn Dwarves. He could have done this job on his own, were it not for the fact that it was in caves where a guide would be needed. And G, in her wisdom, had decided upon a Dwarf for that duty. Even Greenleaf had to admit that it made sense, though that didn't mean he had to like it. Aragorn had probably been brought in to keep Elf and Dwarf away from each other's throats.
A pair of orcs left the gateway of the Mines, crossing the rocks at the head of the Dale. They came to a halt a little way from the Hunters' campsite, sitting on two boulders. Greenleaf watched them but didn't move. He listened to their conversation.
"All I'm saying, Mauhúr, is that we lost the entire patrol in that last attempt," one said, pulling out a knife and picking his nails with it. He ate what he picked out.
"It is necessary, Grishnákh," Mauhúr replied, "you know that he wants that thing. We ain't got no option."
"I'm getting sick of that Uglúk and his bunch lording over us. Just 'cause they're bigger and 'better'." Grishnákh spat on the floor.
"And if they hear you say that then you'll be for it," his companion warned, glancing around, "'sides, what've they ever done to you?"
"We've pulled guard duty here for the last three weeks," Grishnákh grumbled, "tell me that ain't coincidence."
"Well, it won't be the same when we get back to Mordor," Mauhúr placated him, "our boss won't stand for it, and their's won't say anything."
Grishnákh agreed with a grunt and they both fell into silence. Greenleaf remained leaning against his tree, perfectly still so as not to be seen. What he had just heard was very interesting indeed. Gimli's snores were still vibrating behind him, but the orcs didn't seem to have heard, luckily. Greenleaf didn't hold much with luck. Dratted Dwarf, he thought, he could jeopardise this entire mission if he's not careful.
"I bloody hate guard duty," Grishnákh muttered, "always sittin' out here in the cold."
"Do you always have to moan?" Mauhúr asked. "It won't be for much longer anyway. And you know it's too bloody hot there."
"I know, I know." Grishnákh stood and paced a little way from his rock. He rapped the butt of his spear on the ground irritably. "But it's boring."
Mauhúr merely snorted and leant himself back. Grishnákh walked across the flat area, swinging his arms. He stared round the edge, squinting his tiny little eyes. The trees comfortably shaded the ground beneath their branches; comfortably for those hidden there at least. The orc eyed the darkness suspiciously, but did nothing more. Too many nights of absolutely nothing had made him complacent. The moon and stars shone brightly overhead, but he wasn't interested.
"You got anything to drink?" he asked, settling himself back beside Mauhúr. "I'm dyin' for a swig of something."
"You always are," the other orc grumbled, but passed him a flask nonetheless. Grishnákh took a long swig and belched loudly.
"That's the stuff," he said, taking another swig before passing it back. "Not as good as we've got back in-."
"Shut up," Mauhúr interrupted, "you've a bloody one track mind, you have. Just for once, let's do guard duty in silence. It'll be good for me ears, at least."
"Don't be such a miserable git," Grishnákh muttered, but was silent anyway.
The rest of the night –as much as it was- passed quietly. Greenleaf leant against his tree, as still as he had been since stopping. He drifted into reverie, but still stayed alert in case anything happened. The moon sank as the remaining hours passed, its silver light gradually fading as it went. The stars disappeared one by one as the dawn glow began to spread across the sky. Dew rose on the small patches of grass and Greenleaf could feel the trees beginning to wake, stretching their branches and sending sap through their wood. Out among the rocks, Mauhúr gave a grunt.
"C'mon," he said, poking the recumbent form of the other, "time to go in."
Still half asleep and blinking his tiny little eyes, Grishnákh followed the other orc up the Dale and into the Mines. They vanished into the darkness. Greenleaf sighed and stretched his back. The orcs wouldn't be out today. Normal orcs couldn't stand the light of the sun, and even the Uruk Hai preferred the cover of night. If they were trying to stay hidden then they would keep down in the Mines. The Elf turned and moved to wake his companions.
Aragorn woke as soon as Greenleaf squeezed his shoulder. The Dwarf was harder to wake. Eventually Greenleaf succeeded by dripping a little water onto Gimli's face. A snort heralded the Dwarf's awakening. He sat up and glared at the Elf, who sat calmly back on his heels and looked at the other.
"You'll have to wake easier than that, Master Dwarf," he told him, "an orc could have got you, easy as anything."
"I'd have heard an orc coming," Gimli said, still glaring, "but you, Master Elf, are too light-footed. Elves and their damned sneaking around."
"What's for breakfast?" Aragorn asked, breaking up any burgeoning argument.
"Lembasbread," Greenleaf said, pulling some out of his pack. He divided it up and handed it out. Gimli looked at his askance.
"This may keep an Elf alive," he complained, "being as they're skinny as birds. But a Dwarf cannot survive on this!"
"It is more filling than you think," Aragorn cut in, before Greenleaf could retort, "just eat it."
With a sceptical look on his face, Gimli did so, though he seemed more content by the time he had finished it.
"So," he said, picking crumbs out of his beard, "it's reconnaissance today, is it? Sneaking around as the goblins sleep inside."
"I think you'll find," Greenleaf said, his tone somewhat strained, "that most of this mission is 'sneaking around', indeed all of it. And the orcs will not all be asleep."
"That's one thing that puzzled me," Aragorn commented. "How come we're going in at night, when they'll all be awake?"
"We should be less noticed while they're all up and around," Greenleaf explained, "orcs aren't renowned for their eyesight, but they'd hear us if we were the only ones moving about. And we'll be more likely to hear something if they're awake and talking."
He picked up his pack from the ground, refastening it tightly. Grasping a tree branch above his head, he pulled himself up in a quick movement, one foot braced against the trunk. He swung round to balance on the tree's long limb. Gimli watched as Greenleaf wedged his pack high in the branches.
"Pass yours up," the Elf instructed, reaching down. Aragorn did so, and all three packs were soon hidden. Greenleaf leapt down, landing lightly on the soft ground.
"Where are we going to start?" Aragorn asked.
"Spying out our entrance would seem sensible," Greenleaf answered. He turned to Gimli, trying to remember to remain civil. "Do you know of a secret way in?"
"That I do," the Dwarf said, sounding fairly smug, "round to the right of the main entrance there."
"Then that's where we'll start," Greenleaf said, shouldering his bow, "we'll keep to the trees as much as possible. Lead on, Master Dwarf."
The odd threesome made their way round the edge of the open area. The sun was rising in the East, beginning to spread its light down from the tops of the Misty Mountains. Gimli stumped his way along under the trees, humming very quietly to himself. The Elf and the Man followed behind. It wasn't long before they were standing in front of a small insignificant-looking cave in the side of the rock. Gimli moved forward and brushed some of the vegetation aside.
"Here," he said gruffly, "through here. There's a small passageway that comes out in a side tunnel. It's not very well known."
"Looks quite small," Aragorn commented, stooping to see in.
"It gets a bit higher further on," Gimli said, "but it was built for Dwarves, not you tall folks."
"It'll do fine," Greenleaf said, "will we need torches to see the way?"
"They would be more likely to get us spotted, wouldn't they?" Gimli asked, then continued. "I'll be all right. You'll just have to watch your heads, that's all."
"We can do that," Greenleaf assured him, with more than a hint of sarcasm. He walked away from the rock face and looked out over the downward slope of the base of the mountains. "It would seem logical that the orcs will have been using the Dale as their exit and entrance way, if Sauron's base is in Mordor. They'll probably have travelled some way south of Lórien before turning eastwards. We should check the closest part of their route for any clues."
"Good idea," Aragorn agreed, "better than sitting around waiting for dusk. Their trail shouldn't be too hard to find."
It was a short walk round the south side of the Dale, and as Aragorn had predicted, the orc trail was easy to see, though it had not been trodden in recent days. Branches at the side of the track had been knocked and broken, pale ends showing through the dark cracked bark. The grass was still partially flattened, and vegetation was torn. Aragorn, the Ranger, surveyed the trail with an expert eye. He stooped to pick up a piece of metal, holding it out to the others.
"Orcish armour," he said.
Greenleaf took it to examine. It was dark and slightly rusty, splattered with dark substances and something that could have been white.
"There's been more than one lot along here," Aragorn continued, "and at different times, in different-sized groups. It's certainly a well-used route."
They tracked it a little way, but not far. It soon became clear that once further from the Mines, the orcs had taken more care to hide their trail.
"It would probably be possible to follow it all the way to Mordor," Aragorn said, "but we'd have to go slowly for fear of missing it. We couldn't ride."
"That's why we need to get in there," Greenleaf said with a smile. He looked up at the sky, seeing the sun high. "Time for lunch, I suppose."
Personally, he wasn't hungry, but he knew that both the Man and the Dwarf would be. He walked off a little to perch on a rock. Gimli sat against a tree, concentrating his attentions on his axe once again, sharpening the edge. Greenleaf looked up as Aragorn came up behind him. The Man sat down next to the Elf.
"You don't like him, do you?" he asked, gesturing towards Gimli.
"He's a Dwarf," was Greenleaf's short reply. His face was serene as he stared at the sky, following the course of a bird too distant for the Man's eyes.
Aragorn sighed. "We do all have to work together." He sighed. "Can't you pretend to like him or something?"
Greenleaf favoured him with a scathing look. "I am being perfectly civil. I do appreciate the fact that we have to work together, but I don't need to like him."
"All right!" Aragorn said with a laugh. "You'll probably never have to see him again after this mission anyway."
"Here's hoping," Greenleaf commented dryly.
"It's only a short one, at least," the Man said, "just get in, get what we want, and get out. Simple, really."
"I certainly hope so." The Elf rolled his eyes. "Before that Dwarf drives me crazy."
After lunch they checked through the rest of the woods. Knowing the terrain was an essential part of any mission. Greenleaf found himself walking alongside Gimli, through no fault of his own. He frowned darkly whenever he thought the Dwarf wasn't looking. Gimli was just so irritating! He just strolled along humming some awful Dwarvish song –probably one about gold- with no regard for anyone else. Greenleaf wasn't really into Dwarf music; too many 'heigh ho's for his taste.
"What's got you so miserable, Master Elf?" Gimli suddenly asked, noticing Greenleaf's sour look. "Not looking forward to the Mines?"
The Elf looked at him sharply. "I fear no caves, Master Dwarf," he snapped. He turned his head, facing away from the Dwarf. In doing this he failed to see the mantrap before he stood in it.
The metal jaws, edged with sharp points, sprang upwards. There was no time to leap up or out of the way, no way to avoid those teeth. Greenleaf felt them just beginning to dig into the flesh of his calf, when they stopped abruptly. He looked down to see Gimli's axe handle wedged in the trap, effectively holding the trap from closing completely.
"Watch your step," the Dwarf said lightly. Greenleaf's eyes narrowed, but he said nothing.
Aragorn caught them both up and took hold of the axe with Gimli. Together, they used it as a lever, opening the trap. It was slow-going; the trap was old and stiff. Inch by inch, the jaws widened, eventually allowing Greenleaf to slip out of it. Gimli yanked his axe out, leaving the trap to snap shut harmlessly.
"Are you all right?" Aragorn asked, touching Greenleaf's shoulder. The Elf was bent over, rubbing his leg where the trap had caught it.
"Fine," he replied. The metal teeth had not cut into his skin, but there would be bruises. He glanced over to where Gimli stood, fingering a scratch along his axe handle.
"Thanks," he managed to offer, though he consoled himself by thinking how it was the Dwarf's fault really.
Gimli snorted. "Couldn't have you getting incapacitated before tonight, could I?"
Greenleaf almost retorted, but held his tongue. The mission would be over soon, and he would never have to see the Dwarf again afterwards.
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Additional Notes (yes, more. On characters this time): As characters go, fitting them in roles was fairly easy. Legolas Greenleaf is my dashing secret agent, complete with an old-fashioned set of prejudices. Splendid. The fact of him being from Mirkwood makes him different from the Lothlórien Elves, in the way that James Bond has a Scottish father and Swiss mother (according to the biography penned by M in "You Only Live Twice"). Aragorn has, quite nicely, fitted into the role of Felix Leiter (as Idlewild pointed out quite correctly –good work!). That does rather explain some things that happen within this fic (cough –say no more). Rather oddly, Gimli has replaced the ever-present 'Bond girl', though without the physical attraction (unless you happen to like short hairy men with a penchant for axes). This will not be a slash fic, it is not my intention to pair off characters in that way in this fic (I have other fics for that). G is naturally taking the place of M, with all her mysteriousness and power. Gandalf, as U, makes a charming replacement for Q; he's just as much a genius. And as for the bad guys. . .wait and see. I'll say no more now, but read carefully.