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: Not really any. Surprising, I usually have a lot to say for myself. Just that updates may be slightly out over the next couple of weeks, but I'll do my best to keep it on time.
Review reply: theinklesspen: Ingenious plan, huh? Well, I'll do my best.
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Chapter 4. Fools Rush In
Greenleaf couldn't help the feeling of dread that came over him when he realised what the orc meant. And, looking over, he could see that Gimli felt the same. Aragorn had been caught and was, by the sound of it, facing a horrible death. Probably not a quick one either; orcs were known for liking their 'fun'. Death by troll wasn't a nice way to go. Far too messy by Greenleaf's tastes, only to be reserved for the most deserving. And orcs, of course. Nothing was too horrible for them.
The orc who had been the unwitting bearer of such bad news was succeeding in encouraging the other groups of orcs to follow him. "This way!" he said, and hurried down the corridor.
Greenleaf and Gimli followed the group a little distance behind. The Elf's face was set. How dare the Man get himself caught! And after Greenleaf had trusted him. He had thought –after their experiences in Isengard- that the Man would be able to take care of himself. Typical Men. Greenleaf had revised his impression of Men after working with Aragorn against Saruman, and despite himself, had come to like the Man. He hoped that he was still alive, no matter how much trouble he would put them to. This was an unusual feeling for the Elf, as he normally wouldn't allow himself to become emotionally involved, particularly where mortals were concerned. It only led to messiness and complications.
Cursing himself for being soft-hearted, Greenleaf hurried on after the orcs. Gimli was beside him, with a concerned look that vanished as soon as Greenleaf looked at him. He was damned if he was going to appear unprofessional. Especially in front of an Elf, of all creatures. The tunnel they followed twisted and turned, but stayed mainly level. As they went along the level of the noise ahead of them gradually crept up. At first it was just a low rumble, but it soon became more of a roar, and they could hear distinctly the sound of jeering. The caves opened up into a huge cavern, which was filled with orcs. The groups ahead had gone through and were jostling to see.
Gimli touched Greenleaf's arm and motioned to the shadow behind him. "This way," he said.
Greenleaf raised and eyebrow questioningly, exasperating the Dwarf.
"We won't be able to do a thing from here, you daft Elf!" He vanished into the shadows.
Greenleaf sighed, frowned, and followed. A small set of steps was concealed in the corner, narrow and unused. They led to a small balcony, which overlooked the cavern. As all the torches providing the light were below, the balcony itself cast a shadow over its occupants, enabling them to see everything without being seen themselves. What they saw was not hopeful.
The floor seemed black with orcs, all elbowing and pushing each other for a better view of what was going on in the centre. And those goings-on were definitely not pleasing to the eyes of the Elf and the Dwarf. Two Uruk Hai dragged a bedraggled-looking Aragorn over the wide hole in the ground. His face was bruised, and he looked as if he was trying to hide his fear with a mask of anger. Greenleaf's hands were balled into fists as he watched, and Gimli's expression wasn't much happier. The Uruk Hai pulled the Man to the lip of the pit and dropped him in, laughing as they did so. To his credit, Aragorn landed well, rolling with the impact. It was then that he looked up to see the cave troll looming over him.
"We've got to get him out of there," Greenleaf hissed to Gimli, "there's no way I'm leaving him in there."
Gimli stared at him in surprise. "Are you crazy, Elf? Have those eyes of yours not seen the number of orcs down there? We'll be slaughtered!"
"But we're not leaving him." Greenleaf looked out over the cavern, hiding his face in the shadows. He wasn't being emotional and stupid. He really wasn't. It was just that, well, G had sent them out together, and he had a duty to the Man. He couldn't let him die. "We'll save him." After all, the Man had saved him once, or helped anyway.
"Are you listening to me?" The Dwarf was almost beside himself. "There are hundreds of orcs down there. Hundreds! And there are two, I repeat two of us!"
Greenleaf waved a hand at him irritably. "We can use that to our advantage," he said.
Gimli was sceptical. "Oh, really?" he asked. "Forgive me for not instantly seeing the benefits of a mob of bloodthirsty orcs. There must obviously be something wrong with me."
Of course there is, Greenleaf thought, you're a bloody Dwarf. But he didn't say that thought aloud. Others, however, he did. "Well, they're not particularly friendly with each other, are they? I think we can use that." He continued to ponder their options, occasionally going to the edge of the balcony and looking around the cavern. He leaned so far over at times that Gimli was sure he would be seen, but all the attention was drawn to the pit in the centre. The orcs had become strangely hushed as they waited for Aragorn's inevitable defeat. Greenleaf winced as the Man was thrown to the floor by a particularly harsh blow from the troll.
"I've got it," he said, walking back to the Dwarf. He proceeded to tell him his plan.
Gimli's reactions were wide-ranging but largely negative, consisting mainly of "hmm", "what?" and "you're crazy! That'll never work!"
"It has to," Greenleaf told him, heading for the stairs. "Now, you know what you're doing?"
The Dwarf grunted assent, though in a way that clearly indicated his feelings. He followed the Elf down, and at the bottom they split, Gimli going left and Greenleaf right.
A thousand thoughts threatened to run through the Elf's head as he went, and he resolutely shoved them back. But still a few came through. Such as what the hell was he doing? His plan was flimsy at best, relying on far too many things that he couldn't control. Greenleaf hated situations that were out of his control. Unfortunately, he seemed to have a propensity for ending up in them. Under other circumstances he wouldn't have dreamed of trying something so foolhardy. But the fact that Aragorn was out in the middle of those orcs and in terrible danger was making him act so. Had the situation been reversed, he would have expected them to have left him there to get out by himself. The information was the most important thing, and every agent knew that if push came to shove, they were expendable. However, Aragorn wasn't an Elven Secret Agent; he was a Man. Greenleaf didn't want to leave him behind –damnit, he liked him- and he had the skill to get him out. And, hopefully, the luck too.
He reached another tunnel that led into the cavern, about a quarter of the way further round than they had been previously. The orcs were more closely packed here, and Greenleaf had noticed from the balcony that some of them were grouped together, discussing something angrily. The Elf was close enough to smell them, and rather wished he wasn't. It occurred to him that orcs could win battles with their smell, and he had a sudden crazy image of an orc-chieftain ordering his soldiers to flash their armpits. He was too well-trained to laugh though, and he listened to the orcs' conversation, waiting for his moment.
". . .that bloody Man," one of them was saying, "I mean, who knows what he's seen here? And he ain't likely to be alone, is he?"
"Dunno," another said, "he could be. There wasn't anyone with him. If there was more'n one they'd be together, right?"
"Don't think they care," a third grumbled, gesturing towards the Uruk Hai in the centre, "they probably haven't even questioned him. Just chucked him in there."
"Probably doin' it to try and please all us lot," the first said, "they know there's mutiny brewin' and they're trying to placate us."
It was at this point that Greenleaf put part of his plan into action. Putting on his best orc-voice, he growled, "Ah, you're just jealous that you ain't up the front."
The orc reacted angrily. "Jealous of those snobby bastards? Don't think so!" He glared behind him. "Which one of you said that?"
He got no answer. Hidden in the shadows, Greenleaf grinned, watching the orc demanding an answer and getting more and more angry. The orcs he accused also grew angry.
"I didn't say a thing!" one defended himself. "I just keep my head down, me."
"Well, that's very public-spirited of you," Greenleaf muttered loudly from behind, enjoying himself thoroughly, "rest of us are doin' what we can and you're bowin' and scrapin' to them."
The orc, infuriated, turned to the orc immediately at his rear, thinking that he had said it. "You shut your mouth, conk-face! It ain't nothin' like that!"
The other orc took offence at the comment (though it was true that he did have a big nose). He punched the other in the face, sending him crashing into another bunch of orcs. They retaliated in kind, and soon a full-scale fight was in progress. Greenleaf stood back and watched, quite satisfied. Orcs were stupid and quick to anger, making them perfect for this sort of tactic. It wouldn't be long before the brawl spread further across the cavern, causing utter disarray. This was what Greenleaf wanted.
The fighting spread in ripples. As orcs were jostled by those already fighting they shoved back, only to become involved themselves. Soon, half the orcs in the cavern were trying to punch each other's lights out. The Uruk Hai, finally realising that something was going on, tried to bring order to the chaos that was breaking out all around them, but in such an enclosed space it was impossible. The din grew louder, drowning out the roars of the cave troll. The commotion between Greenleaf and the pit was absolute; exactly what he needed.
Darting forward, he snatched the grimy cloak of an orc, pulling it from its shoulders. The orc turned, but the Elf was already back out of sight. Making its own assumptions, the creature fell on those its kind that had been behind it, suspecting nothing else in the confusion. Greenleaf threw the cloak over his back, covering his bow, quiver and Elven cloak. Thus disguised, and with his knife in his hand, he moved out among the orcs, crouched over to conceal his face. He had already ensured that his hair was well tucked back under his hood; one flash of that would reveal his presence too soon. He ducked and weaved among the fighting creatures, occasionally getting hit by an elbow or fist, but ignoring them. In places he would push and shove his way through, not drawing a second look as he did. A flailing hand caught him on the cheek as an orc fell on top of him, knocking him to the ground. The orc itself was out cold, so Greenleaf pushed him off easily. But now he was on the ground among the stamping feet of the angry orcs.
He rolled as one almost landed on him, pulling the orc-cloak with him. He was on his knees, curled over to avoid the orcs. It was impossible to stand again immediately; the crush of orcs above being confining. Greenleaf struck out at the legs of those closest to him, using either fist or knife. Some orcs fell back, while others kicked at the figure on the floor angrily. A few managed to connect, though not with enough force to knock the Elf over. He regained his feet, shoving through the orcs. They, assuming him to be just another one of them, ignored him and continued to address their differences with each other. It didn't take him long from there to reach the edge of the pit where the Uruk Hai stood, surveying the mêlée around them with disdain and frustration. They were taller than the orcs and stronger, and obviously above such petty brawling. Either that or too intelligent to get involved. Greenleaf noticed that one –the one that looked like it was in charge- had Aragorn's sword tucked into its belt. As a trophy, most probably.
Discarding the orc-cloak, Greenleaf attacked the creature. Caught by surprise, the Uruk Hai didn't react until the Elf's knife was slipping past a weak spot in its armour, plunging into flesh. It thrashed out at him in pain and anger, but the damage had been done. As the creature fell, Greenleaf yanked the sword from its belt. Then, as the other Uruk Hai began heading his way he leapt into the pit, somersaulting once and landing gracefully on his feet. Aragorn was just struggling to his feet beside where the Elf had landed. He smiled crookedly despite his agony as Greenleaf handed him his sword. Looking up at the looming troll, the Elf hoped that the Dwarf was doing his job properly.
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Gimli was having more than a little difficulty with his task. "Find something to burn," he had been told. Of course, he thought with more than a small amount of sarcasm, there're always lots of flammable things around in a mine. It's the best place to keep them, in the very place where a fire could do the most harm. Stupid Elf.
He headed down one of the corridors from the cavern, checking in each room as he passed. Most were empty, though others showed signs of being lived in. Sacks and blankets littered the floor. Perfect, Gimli thought, I'll come back for those. Having reached the end of the inhabited part of the corridor, he turned back and followed another, hurrying. He could hear much more noise from the large cavern now. The Elf was obviously doing his job. Gimli wasn't going to let him be the only one doing everything; he could be as good, even better than some Elf. Keeping that thought in mind, he hurried on, scowling.
The third room he looked into was the armoury, or what the orcs had converted into one. Gimli knew that it had been a storeroom before, when the Dwarves had lived in Moria, but now it was full of weapons. Pikes leaned against the walls, and mixed on the floor were swords, scimitars, shields and daggers. Bows and arrows were ranged on racks on the back wall. But it was what was by the right hand wall that interested Gimli most. Three large barrels stood there, with a pile of small black sacks beside them, all filled with something. Gimli crept into the armoury to see if his suspicions were true. He opened one of the sacks, smiling as he recognised the black gritty powder within. It would come in very useful.
"Who's in 'ere?" a voice asked from the doorway. An orc stood in the doorway, squinting into the dark room. It was alone. "I know there's someone 'ere," it continued, walking into the room.
Gimli wasted no time, but had his axe in his hands in seconds. It took him only slightly longer to swing the weapon in the orc's direction. It found its target in the orc's side, burying in deep and being pulled out instantly to swing again. The orc grunted, trying to knock the Dwarf back but failing. It pitched forwards, putting its neck firmly within reach of Gimli's axe. The opportunity didn't pass unused, and the sounds of first the body, then the head hitting the ground were heard. A clanging kind of squelch echoed in the room.
Gimli dragged the body away from the door, grateful both for the noise of the orcs in the cavern and that they were all in there. The body was easily hidden in a dark corner, to be discovered probably at some time in the future. There seemed to be a lot of dark corners in these Mines. Gimli went back to the barrels and picked up several of the small sacks, carrying as many as he could. They were heavy, but he was stout and strong, and able to carry them. He took them back down the corridor, careful to stay in the shadows as much as possible. The sacks he held would have slowed him if he had to reach for his axe, so being spotted was not really an option. He left them in one of the handy dark corners just outside the cavern and went back to the room where he had found the empty sacks and bedding that the orcs used to sleep on. They smelt terrible, but Gimli needed them.
On the way back he saw something else that would be very useful. A long ladder was half-hidden in shadow. Gimli smiled, a plan forming in his mind. He put his sacks and blankets down with the powder sacks and went back to get the ladder. It was rather awkward to carry, being long and weighty, and the only way to do this was to hold it exactly in the middle and try to keep it balanced. Luckily, there were no corners along the route, and the Dwarf got it there with the minimum of difficulty. He laid it along the floor and wrapping sacks and blankets around the wooden frame. The fighting was still going strong; hopefully distracting the rocs enough for what Gimli was planning to work. He tied the small sacks at intervals at measured intervals along the ladder, mostly near one end. The first four he tied string to the tops of, looping the string up to the top. Having finished, he dragged the creation across the floor towards the doorway into the cavern and through it.
It was dark at that end, with little light from torches. All the orcs were fighting furiously and everything was confused. None of them noticed the small figure of the Dwarf, camouflaged in his Lórien cloak, as he pulled the ladder through. The furthest he could get it in was a third of its height along the floor; any further and the orcs would be stepping on it. He had already unwound the rope from his waist, attaching one end to the top of the ladder and weighting the other with a stone. He hefted the stone in his hand, gauging the distance up to the balcony above the doorway before throwing it. His aim was good, and the stone landed where he wanted it, looping the rope over the rail. Gimli wasted no time in getting up there.
From above, he had a good view of the entire cavern. The fighting had led the orcs to move away from his side of the cavern, giving him what he hoped was enough room. In the centre he could see the pit where the crazy Elf and the Man were fighting the troll. Muttering to himself about the cockiness of certain Elves, Gimli picked up the rope and began pulling up the slack. Once it was taut, he heaved, bringing the loaded ladder up from the floor. It was slow going, but seemed to be successful. The darkness hid the contraption as it swayed on its way up. It was going fine until it suddenly jarred to halt. Still holding up the rope, Gimli realised what had happened. The ladder hadn't been far enough through the doorway to clear it and had jammed against the lintel. He wrapped the rope around the balcony, hitching it securely, and then hurried down.
He pushed at the base of the ladder, sliding it towards the cavern. The angle of it changed drastically as he did so, hanging out above the heads of the orcs. Gimli pushed as hard and as fast as possible, hoping against hope that none would look up and see. And, miraculously, they didn't. Even if any did, there was no hope in the mêlée that they could do anything or make the others notice. As soon as he judged the ladder to be far enough out, Gimli ran up to the balcony again to pull the ladder all the way up. He unfastened the rope from the top, dropping it to the floor to be used later. The ladder was straight up against the wall, reaching a little way higher than the balcony. Gimli estimated that it would fall over halfway towards the centre of the cavern, though its impact would be far greater. He had brought a torch up from the corridor below, which he now gripped in his hand. He lit the strings leading to the small sacks, waiting for a moment before setting light to a couple of the sacks and thrusting the torch into the material. Then, with some speed, he pushed the flaming ladder outwards, letting it fall towards the battling orcs. Snatching the rope up, he ran from the balcony.
A loud explosion boomed out, followed quickly by another. Shrieks and roars arose from the orcs, mingled with the sound of falling rock. There were stampedes of orcs from all the exits. Gimli stood aside to let them pass, not wanting to become trampled beneath their heavy feet. He peered out as the flow of the creatures lessened.
Right, he thought. Now to get that Elf out.
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Notes on the use of blasting powder: As I'm sure you know, Tolkien referred to "a blasting fire" in the books, and this was shown in the films as a black powder that when lit would explode, used to blow the Deeping Wall at Helm's Deep. I coupled this with Bond's seeming propensity for blowing everything up and that led to explosions aplenty. Huzzah!
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: Not really any. Surprising, I usually have a lot to say for myself. Just that updates may be slightly out over the next couple of weeks, but I'll do my best to keep it on time.
Review reply: theinklesspen: Ingenious plan, huh? Well, I'll do my best.
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Chapter 4. Fools Rush In
Greenleaf couldn't help the feeling of dread that came over him when he realised what the orc meant. And, looking over, he could see that Gimli felt the same. Aragorn had been caught and was, by the sound of it, facing a horrible death. Probably not a quick one either; orcs were known for liking their 'fun'. Death by troll wasn't a nice way to go. Far too messy by Greenleaf's tastes, only to be reserved for the most deserving. And orcs, of course. Nothing was too horrible for them.
The orc who had been the unwitting bearer of such bad news was succeeding in encouraging the other groups of orcs to follow him. "This way!" he said, and hurried down the corridor.
Greenleaf and Gimli followed the group a little distance behind. The Elf's face was set. How dare the Man get himself caught! And after Greenleaf had trusted him. He had thought –after their experiences in Isengard- that the Man would be able to take care of himself. Typical Men. Greenleaf had revised his impression of Men after working with Aragorn against Saruman, and despite himself, had come to like the Man. He hoped that he was still alive, no matter how much trouble he would put them to. This was an unusual feeling for the Elf, as he normally wouldn't allow himself to become emotionally involved, particularly where mortals were concerned. It only led to messiness and complications.
Cursing himself for being soft-hearted, Greenleaf hurried on after the orcs. Gimli was beside him, with a concerned look that vanished as soon as Greenleaf looked at him. He was damned if he was going to appear unprofessional. Especially in front of an Elf, of all creatures. The tunnel they followed twisted and turned, but stayed mainly level. As they went along the level of the noise ahead of them gradually crept up. At first it was just a low rumble, but it soon became more of a roar, and they could hear distinctly the sound of jeering. The caves opened up into a huge cavern, which was filled with orcs. The groups ahead had gone through and were jostling to see.
Gimli touched Greenleaf's arm and motioned to the shadow behind him. "This way," he said.
Greenleaf raised and eyebrow questioningly, exasperating the Dwarf.
"We won't be able to do a thing from here, you daft Elf!" He vanished into the shadows.
Greenleaf sighed, frowned, and followed. A small set of steps was concealed in the corner, narrow and unused. They led to a small balcony, which overlooked the cavern. As all the torches providing the light were below, the balcony itself cast a shadow over its occupants, enabling them to see everything without being seen themselves. What they saw was not hopeful.
The floor seemed black with orcs, all elbowing and pushing each other for a better view of what was going on in the centre. And those goings-on were definitely not pleasing to the eyes of the Elf and the Dwarf. Two Uruk Hai dragged a bedraggled-looking Aragorn over the wide hole in the ground. His face was bruised, and he looked as if he was trying to hide his fear with a mask of anger. Greenleaf's hands were balled into fists as he watched, and Gimli's expression wasn't much happier. The Uruk Hai pulled the Man to the lip of the pit and dropped him in, laughing as they did so. To his credit, Aragorn landed well, rolling with the impact. It was then that he looked up to see the cave troll looming over him.
"We've got to get him out of there," Greenleaf hissed to Gimli, "there's no way I'm leaving him in there."
Gimli stared at him in surprise. "Are you crazy, Elf? Have those eyes of yours not seen the number of orcs down there? We'll be slaughtered!"
"But we're not leaving him." Greenleaf looked out over the cavern, hiding his face in the shadows. He wasn't being emotional and stupid. He really wasn't. It was just that, well, G had sent them out together, and he had a duty to the Man. He couldn't let him die. "We'll save him." After all, the Man had saved him once, or helped anyway.
"Are you listening to me?" The Dwarf was almost beside himself. "There are hundreds of orcs down there. Hundreds! And there are two, I repeat two of us!"
Greenleaf waved a hand at him irritably. "We can use that to our advantage," he said.
Gimli was sceptical. "Oh, really?" he asked. "Forgive me for not instantly seeing the benefits of a mob of bloodthirsty orcs. There must obviously be something wrong with me."
Of course there is, Greenleaf thought, you're a bloody Dwarf. But he didn't say that thought aloud. Others, however, he did. "Well, they're not particularly friendly with each other, are they? I think we can use that." He continued to ponder their options, occasionally going to the edge of the balcony and looking around the cavern. He leaned so far over at times that Gimli was sure he would be seen, but all the attention was drawn to the pit in the centre. The orcs had become strangely hushed as they waited for Aragorn's inevitable defeat. Greenleaf winced as the Man was thrown to the floor by a particularly harsh blow from the troll.
"I've got it," he said, walking back to the Dwarf. He proceeded to tell him his plan.
Gimli's reactions were wide-ranging but largely negative, consisting mainly of "hmm", "what?" and "you're crazy! That'll never work!"
"It has to," Greenleaf told him, heading for the stairs. "Now, you know what you're doing?"
The Dwarf grunted assent, though in a way that clearly indicated his feelings. He followed the Elf down, and at the bottom they split, Gimli going left and Greenleaf right.
A thousand thoughts threatened to run through the Elf's head as he went, and he resolutely shoved them back. But still a few came through. Such as what the hell was he doing? His plan was flimsy at best, relying on far too many things that he couldn't control. Greenleaf hated situations that were out of his control. Unfortunately, he seemed to have a propensity for ending up in them. Under other circumstances he wouldn't have dreamed of trying something so foolhardy. But the fact that Aragorn was out in the middle of those orcs and in terrible danger was making him act so. Had the situation been reversed, he would have expected them to have left him there to get out by himself. The information was the most important thing, and every agent knew that if push came to shove, they were expendable. However, Aragorn wasn't an Elven Secret Agent; he was a Man. Greenleaf didn't want to leave him behind –damnit, he liked him- and he had the skill to get him out. And, hopefully, the luck too.
He reached another tunnel that led into the cavern, about a quarter of the way further round than they had been previously. The orcs were more closely packed here, and Greenleaf had noticed from the balcony that some of them were grouped together, discussing something angrily. The Elf was close enough to smell them, and rather wished he wasn't. It occurred to him that orcs could win battles with their smell, and he had a sudden crazy image of an orc-chieftain ordering his soldiers to flash their armpits. He was too well-trained to laugh though, and he listened to the orcs' conversation, waiting for his moment.
". . .that bloody Man," one of them was saying, "I mean, who knows what he's seen here? And he ain't likely to be alone, is he?"
"Dunno," another said, "he could be. There wasn't anyone with him. If there was more'n one they'd be together, right?"
"Don't think they care," a third grumbled, gesturing towards the Uruk Hai in the centre, "they probably haven't even questioned him. Just chucked him in there."
"Probably doin' it to try and please all us lot," the first said, "they know there's mutiny brewin' and they're trying to placate us."
It was at this point that Greenleaf put part of his plan into action. Putting on his best orc-voice, he growled, "Ah, you're just jealous that you ain't up the front."
The orc reacted angrily. "Jealous of those snobby bastards? Don't think so!" He glared behind him. "Which one of you said that?"
He got no answer. Hidden in the shadows, Greenleaf grinned, watching the orc demanding an answer and getting more and more angry. The orcs he accused also grew angry.
"I didn't say a thing!" one defended himself. "I just keep my head down, me."
"Well, that's very public-spirited of you," Greenleaf muttered loudly from behind, enjoying himself thoroughly, "rest of us are doin' what we can and you're bowin' and scrapin' to them."
The orc, infuriated, turned to the orc immediately at his rear, thinking that he had said it. "You shut your mouth, conk-face! It ain't nothin' like that!"
The other orc took offence at the comment (though it was true that he did have a big nose). He punched the other in the face, sending him crashing into another bunch of orcs. They retaliated in kind, and soon a full-scale fight was in progress. Greenleaf stood back and watched, quite satisfied. Orcs were stupid and quick to anger, making them perfect for this sort of tactic. It wouldn't be long before the brawl spread further across the cavern, causing utter disarray. This was what Greenleaf wanted.
The fighting spread in ripples. As orcs were jostled by those already fighting they shoved back, only to become involved themselves. Soon, half the orcs in the cavern were trying to punch each other's lights out. The Uruk Hai, finally realising that something was going on, tried to bring order to the chaos that was breaking out all around them, but in such an enclosed space it was impossible. The din grew louder, drowning out the roars of the cave troll. The commotion between Greenleaf and the pit was absolute; exactly what he needed.
Darting forward, he snatched the grimy cloak of an orc, pulling it from its shoulders. The orc turned, but the Elf was already back out of sight. Making its own assumptions, the creature fell on those its kind that had been behind it, suspecting nothing else in the confusion. Greenleaf threw the cloak over his back, covering his bow, quiver and Elven cloak. Thus disguised, and with his knife in his hand, he moved out among the orcs, crouched over to conceal his face. He had already ensured that his hair was well tucked back under his hood; one flash of that would reveal his presence too soon. He ducked and weaved among the fighting creatures, occasionally getting hit by an elbow or fist, but ignoring them. In places he would push and shove his way through, not drawing a second look as he did. A flailing hand caught him on the cheek as an orc fell on top of him, knocking him to the ground. The orc itself was out cold, so Greenleaf pushed him off easily. But now he was on the ground among the stamping feet of the angry orcs.
He rolled as one almost landed on him, pulling the orc-cloak with him. He was on his knees, curled over to avoid the orcs. It was impossible to stand again immediately; the crush of orcs above being confining. Greenleaf struck out at the legs of those closest to him, using either fist or knife. Some orcs fell back, while others kicked at the figure on the floor angrily. A few managed to connect, though not with enough force to knock the Elf over. He regained his feet, shoving through the orcs. They, assuming him to be just another one of them, ignored him and continued to address their differences with each other. It didn't take him long from there to reach the edge of the pit where the Uruk Hai stood, surveying the mêlée around them with disdain and frustration. They were taller than the orcs and stronger, and obviously above such petty brawling. Either that or too intelligent to get involved. Greenleaf noticed that one –the one that looked like it was in charge- had Aragorn's sword tucked into its belt. As a trophy, most probably.
Discarding the orc-cloak, Greenleaf attacked the creature. Caught by surprise, the Uruk Hai didn't react until the Elf's knife was slipping past a weak spot in its armour, plunging into flesh. It thrashed out at him in pain and anger, but the damage had been done. As the creature fell, Greenleaf yanked the sword from its belt. Then, as the other Uruk Hai began heading his way he leapt into the pit, somersaulting once and landing gracefully on his feet. Aragorn was just struggling to his feet beside where the Elf had landed. He smiled crookedly despite his agony as Greenleaf handed him his sword. Looking up at the looming troll, the Elf hoped that the Dwarf was doing his job properly.
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Gimli was having more than a little difficulty with his task. "Find something to burn," he had been told. Of course, he thought with more than a small amount of sarcasm, there're always lots of flammable things around in a mine. It's the best place to keep them, in the very place where a fire could do the most harm. Stupid Elf.
He headed down one of the corridors from the cavern, checking in each room as he passed. Most were empty, though others showed signs of being lived in. Sacks and blankets littered the floor. Perfect, Gimli thought, I'll come back for those. Having reached the end of the inhabited part of the corridor, he turned back and followed another, hurrying. He could hear much more noise from the large cavern now. The Elf was obviously doing his job. Gimli wasn't going to let him be the only one doing everything; he could be as good, even better than some Elf. Keeping that thought in mind, he hurried on, scowling.
The third room he looked into was the armoury, or what the orcs had converted into one. Gimli knew that it had been a storeroom before, when the Dwarves had lived in Moria, but now it was full of weapons. Pikes leaned against the walls, and mixed on the floor were swords, scimitars, shields and daggers. Bows and arrows were ranged on racks on the back wall. But it was what was by the right hand wall that interested Gimli most. Three large barrels stood there, with a pile of small black sacks beside them, all filled with something. Gimli crept into the armoury to see if his suspicions were true. He opened one of the sacks, smiling as he recognised the black gritty powder within. It would come in very useful.
"Who's in 'ere?" a voice asked from the doorway. An orc stood in the doorway, squinting into the dark room. It was alone. "I know there's someone 'ere," it continued, walking into the room.
Gimli wasted no time, but had his axe in his hands in seconds. It took him only slightly longer to swing the weapon in the orc's direction. It found its target in the orc's side, burying in deep and being pulled out instantly to swing again. The orc grunted, trying to knock the Dwarf back but failing. It pitched forwards, putting its neck firmly within reach of Gimli's axe. The opportunity didn't pass unused, and the sounds of first the body, then the head hitting the ground were heard. A clanging kind of squelch echoed in the room.
Gimli dragged the body away from the door, grateful both for the noise of the orcs in the cavern and that they were all in there. The body was easily hidden in a dark corner, to be discovered probably at some time in the future. There seemed to be a lot of dark corners in these Mines. Gimli went back to the barrels and picked up several of the small sacks, carrying as many as he could. They were heavy, but he was stout and strong, and able to carry them. He took them back down the corridor, careful to stay in the shadows as much as possible. The sacks he held would have slowed him if he had to reach for his axe, so being spotted was not really an option. He left them in one of the handy dark corners just outside the cavern and went back to the room where he had found the empty sacks and bedding that the orcs used to sleep on. They smelt terrible, but Gimli needed them.
On the way back he saw something else that would be very useful. A long ladder was half-hidden in shadow. Gimli smiled, a plan forming in his mind. He put his sacks and blankets down with the powder sacks and went back to get the ladder. It was rather awkward to carry, being long and weighty, and the only way to do this was to hold it exactly in the middle and try to keep it balanced. Luckily, there were no corners along the route, and the Dwarf got it there with the minimum of difficulty. He laid it along the floor and wrapping sacks and blankets around the wooden frame. The fighting was still going strong; hopefully distracting the rocs enough for what Gimli was planning to work. He tied the small sacks at intervals at measured intervals along the ladder, mostly near one end. The first four he tied string to the tops of, looping the string up to the top. Having finished, he dragged the creation across the floor towards the doorway into the cavern and through it.
It was dark at that end, with little light from torches. All the orcs were fighting furiously and everything was confused. None of them noticed the small figure of the Dwarf, camouflaged in his Lórien cloak, as he pulled the ladder through. The furthest he could get it in was a third of its height along the floor; any further and the orcs would be stepping on it. He had already unwound the rope from his waist, attaching one end to the top of the ladder and weighting the other with a stone. He hefted the stone in his hand, gauging the distance up to the balcony above the doorway before throwing it. His aim was good, and the stone landed where he wanted it, looping the rope over the rail. Gimli wasted no time in getting up there.
From above, he had a good view of the entire cavern. The fighting had led the orcs to move away from his side of the cavern, giving him what he hoped was enough room. In the centre he could see the pit where the crazy Elf and the Man were fighting the troll. Muttering to himself about the cockiness of certain Elves, Gimli picked up the rope and began pulling up the slack. Once it was taut, he heaved, bringing the loaded ladder up from the floor. It was slow going, but seemed to be successful. The darkness hid the contraption as it swayed on its way up. It was going fine until it suddenly jarred to halt. Still holding up the rope, Gimli realised what had happened. The ladder hadn't been far enough through the doorway to clear it and had jammed against the lintel. He wrapped the rope around the balcony, hitching it securely, and then hurried down.
He pushed at the base of the ladder, sliding it towards the cavern. The angle of it changed drastically as he did so, hanging out above the heads of the orcs. Gimli pushed as hard and as fast as possible, hoping against hope that none would look up and see. And, miraculously, they didn't. Even if any did, there was no hope in the mêlée that they could do anything or make the others notice. As soon as he judged the ladder to be far enough out, Gimli ran up to the balcony again to pull the ladder all the way up. He unfastened the rope from the top, dropping it to the floor to be used later. The ladder was straight up against the wall, reaching a little way higher than the balcony. Gimli estimated that it would fall over halfway towards the centre of the cavern, though its impact would be far greater. He had brought a torch up from the corridor below, which he now gripped in his hand. He lit the strings leading to the small sacks, waiting for a moment before setting light to a couple of the sacks and thrusting the torch into the material. Then, with some speed, he pushed the flaming ladder outwards, letting it fall towards the battling orcs. Snatching the rope up, he ran from the balcony.
A loud explosion boomed out, followed quickly by another. Shrieks and roars arose from the orcs, mingled with the sound of falling rock. There were stampedes of orcs from all the exits. Gimli stood aside to let them pass, not wanting to become trampled beneath their heavy feet. He peered out as the flow of the creatures lessened.
Right, he thought. Now to get that Elf out.
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Notes on the use of blasting powder: As I'm sure you know, Tolkien referred to "a blasting fire" in the books, and this was shown in the films as a black powder that when lit would explode, used to blow the Deeping Wall at Helm's Deep. I coupled this with Bond's seeming propensity for blowing everything up and that led to explosions aplenty. Huzzah!