Legolas Greenleaf, Agent of MESS, in
You Only Live Forever
:::::::::::::::::::
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: On a lighter note, though I have referred to the troll here as "it", the troll in FOTR is definitely male. I kid you not, when you see that creature without the loincloth (as the model shows in the exhibition at the Science Museum, London) it has what I can only describe as "nadgers".
Review replies: theinklesspen: hmm, just imagine an intelligence test between Aragorn and the troll. Question: You see an enemy. What do you do? Troll: Hit it with big club. Aragorn: hit it with big sword. No differentiation there then.
Nemo Returning: I am rather proud of that one. Funnily enough, the image in my mind was of the elephants in the Jungle Book.
:::::::::::::::::::
Chapter 5. Between A Rock And A Hard Place
"Are you all right?" Greenleaf called, watching as the troll approached.
"Been better," Aragorn replied, readying his sword.
That was the only chance for conversation they had. The troll gave a roar and attacked its new prey. Its fist slammed down with devastating force, but Greenleaf had already moved, leaping to the side. There was a small crater left as the troll lifted its arm again. Its eyes squinted as it tried to understand what had just happened. The Elf didn't give it time to do so. He slashed at the creature's leg across the back of the knee, drawing a growl of agony from it. Its arms swung, but again missed him. Infuriated, it turned back to easier prey: Aragorn. The Man's injuries prevented him from moving fast enough to avoid the troll, and Greenleaf could see it. He ran at the troll, springing up to grab its iron collar. The creature reared as Greenleaf braced himself on the creature's back. He clung on, being tossed from side to side dizzyingly as the troll tried to shake him off.
Greenleaf stabbed at the back of its neck with his knife, but his blade glanced off its thick skin. The troll swiped at the Elf on its head as if trying to dislodge a particularly annoying fly. One of its hands caught Greenleaf on the side, throwing him off and onto the floor. He landed like a cat, spinning to face the troll as he did. It roared and charged towards him. He dodged, but unwittingly led it towards Aragorn. The Man was leaning against the wall of the pit, clutching his chest and breathing rapidly. The troll lumbered towards them, fury in its tiny little eyes. Sharing a quick glance, Man and Elf dived in different directions. Aragorn swore as his body crashed into the floor, and the troll turned his way. It raised its arm high; meaning to slam its fist down on the Man. Greenleaf saw his opportunity and darted forward.
He stabbed at the troll's armpit, wrinkling his nose at the smell. It bellowed and swung round to face the Elf. He had already moved back, forcing the troll to come after him and leave the Man. The wounds Greenleaf had inflicted seemed only to irritate it, much to his disgust. He stood his ground, readying his stance to meet the creature. It towered over him. The only thing Greenleaf could remember about trolls was their stupidity, but he couldn't see how to use this to his advantage at this particular moment. There wasn't really much opportunity to engage it in conversation. He stood steadily as it approached.
It was then that Gimli sent his flaming contraption down onto the orcs. The first explosion, and the second shortly after seemed to rock the cavern. Greenleaf stumbled, thrown off for a second in disorientation. The troll –being several moments behind events and unaffected by the explosion- chose that moment to strike. It grabbed Greenleaf by the leg and swung him into the air. He was spun in circles around the troll's head like some toy being played with. Kicking out with his free foot, he connected with its face but it was like kicking stone. Its skin was too think and solid. Aragorn looked up from his position on the floor, watching with horror. He pushed himself to his feet, gasping at the pain, and lifted his sword. With a cry, he plunged it into the troll's ankle with all his might.
The creature roared, lifting its foot and trying to stamp on the Man. He dodged backwards, almost tripping. The troll let go of Greenleaf to go for Aragorn with both hands, sending the Elf flying across the pit. He hit the wall and fell awkwardly to the ground, where he rolled as he landed. Everything was spinning around him, the floor heaving like the sea as he tried to stand. Before him he could see Aragorn facing the troll, but it all seemed rather blurred. The Man dodged again as a fist came down and sliced down with his sword as it did, lacerating its knuckles. The troll was becoming steadily angrier as it failed to get its Man, roaring and bellowing its frustrations. It lumbered forwards, but even injured Aragorn could outpace it. The only problem he had was running out of space, which he rapidly seemed to be doing. A fist slammed down, which he avoided, but then another did, and he was trapped between them. He looked up at the gleaming rage-filled eyes above him.
"Hey! Over here!" a voice yelled from behind the creature. Greenleaf, having regained enough of a sense of balance to stand, was trying to get its attention. His ploy worked; the troll swung round with a confused grunt. Aragorn leapt over its hand and out of its way. It didn't notice, but stared at the Elf.
"Hey, ugly!" Greenleaf shouted. "Up there!" He pointed upwards, bow in his other hand. The troll frowned and looked where he pointed. It was a big mistake on its part. Seconds later it fell to the ground with a colossal thump, an arrow protruding from its throat. Greenleaf was at Aragorn's side in moments.
"That Dwarf should be here any second," he said. He helped the Man to sit and then cast an experienced eye over his wounds. Blood trickled from the side of his mouth and bruises were beginning to purple on his face. Anything else Greenleaf couldn't see, but from the way the Man held himself there were worse injuries hidden. The Elf straightened, narrowing his eyes as he gazed through smoke and sniffing. Where did the Dwarf get the blasting powder from?
"Elf!" The call came from above, the edge of the pit. Greenleaf looked up and saw the bearded face of the Dwarf. A rope fell down, landing at the Elf's feet.
"It's secure up here," Gimli called, tugging at the rope to prove his point, "get up here now before the fire consumes all the air!"
Greenleaf nodded, and turned to Aragorn. The Man didn't look like he'd make it up the rope. His face was pale and his breathing shallow. Greenleaf knelt beside him.
"I'm sorry," he said quietly, "this will hurt." He picked up the Man, balancing him over his shoulder and trying to avoid aggravating any injuries. Aragorn groaned, and Greenleaf muttered another apology before standing slowly and going to the wall. He gripped the rope in both hands. "Grab my waist," he instructed, and felt the Man's arms wrap hesitantly around him. "And just hang on," he said, pulling himself up. The climb was about twice as high as the troll had been, and took the Elf longer that it would have normally, due to the additional weight of the Man. His muscles strained as he hauled hand over hand, making his way upwards slowly. Palms began to tingle uncomfortably as the rope rubbed against them. His face showed it. The situation he was in, the weight of the Man on his shoulder, the ever-thickening smoke; all was reflected in his tightly arched brows and set mouth. It seemed to take forever, but finally he reached the top, pointedly not taking Gimli's help. All around was smoke and confusion. Flames filled one end of the cavern, cutting off that side. Orcs were staggering about, dazed by the earlier blasts, but more were coming in, armed and angry. Luckily, they were finding it hard to see through the smoke.
"This way!" Gimli said, tugging at Greenleaf's arm. "Let's get out of here before they work out what's going on."
The Elf nodded, resenting the Dwarf's bossiness but still mindful of the Man over his shoulder. They ran across the cavern, Greenleaf being as careful as he could not to jostle Aragorn. The smoke began to burn in his lungs, and he wondered whether that was the feeling people got when smoking pipeweed. If so, he couldn't for the life of him see why they would want to. He coughed a little, his throat itching. A sudden roar from behind alerted them that the orcs had seen their escape. Black arrows began to fall around them as Gimli led them to a small tunnel in the cavern wall. Greenleaf stared at it. He'd never be able to carry Aragorn through that; the opening was too small.
"You'll have to crawl," he told the Man abruptly, setting him down, "Gimli, help him." He pushed him into the tunnel. "I'll be along in a minute," he called after them, pulling his bow from his back and fitting an arrow to the string. The orcs approached fast, but not so fast that Greenleaf couldn't fell several with his arrows. Further explosions shook the cavern as he dived into the tunnel. A last arrow winged past his head as rocks began to fall around him. He scrambled along the narrow way, hugging his bow to his chest as he did. Falling chunks of ceiling hit him painfully. At least none of the orcs would be able to follow, he realised. Complete darkness surrounded him and the ground still trembled. He hurried on, intent on catching up his companions. It didn't take long: Aragorn's injuries slowed him down quite a bit. His breathing was loud and harsh in the small space.
Greenleaf came up behind him, just in time to catch the Man as he collapsed. Gimli looked back worriedly.
"The tunnel comes out just up here," he said, taking Aragorn's shoulders. Greenleaf took his legs and together they heaved the Man through the rest of the narrow tunnel. It was hard going, as the way was too small to accommodate even a Dwarf comfortably, and Greenleaf was bent over in a most awkward position, completely the wrong one for carrying someone of Aragorn's weight. The muscles in his back were beginning to ache as they left the tunnel, straightening up in a small hall.
"Where to now?" he asked, checking on the Man. Aragorn's eyes were still closed and his breathing shallow. His skin was clammy.
"Give me a moment," Gimli muttered, walking across the hall. Greenleaf's head snapped up.
"Don't you know where we are?" he demanded.
"I'll remember," the Dwarf defended, "just wait a bit." He went over to one of the entrances and peered through it. It was, predictably, dark.
Greenleaf stood and strode over. "You'd better get us out of here, Dwarf," he hissed, using his height as much as possible, "that's what you're here for."
"You mean there's something you can't do?" Gimli asked viciously. Greenleaf shot a glare at him. "And I thought all you Elves were perfect," the Dwarf continued. "I know where we are, I just need to remember which way it is from here. You can't do anything except get out of my face."
They stared each other down, neither wanting to back away. A moan came from Aragorn, and Greenleaf broke off unwillingly to see to him. Having got the Man this far he wasn't going to lose him now. Aragorn was still unconscious, but his face was screwed up and he was moving restlessly. Fearing he would aggravate his injuries, Greenleaf took hold of the Man, trying to keep him still. While Gimli strode about the hall, muttering to himself, Greenleaf spoke to the Man in an attempt to calm him.
"Sh, Aragorn, take it easy, my friend," he said, his hands on the other's arms, "you'll be fine, don't worry. We'll get you out of here in no time." He glared at the Dwarf. "In no time," he repeated, trying to convince himself more than anything. He pulled Aragorn closer, murmuring further platitudes as he did. It seemed to work; the Man calmed when he was in the Elf's arms.
"I know where we're going," Gimli said, coming up behind the Elf. His tone was unapologetic.
"What is the route like?" Greenleaf asked, still looking at Aragorn. Carrying him through narrow tunnels would be awkward and only pain the Man further.
"Mostly wide and easy to walk," Gimli replied, understanding the Elf's concern, "but the last part will be small and difficult. I will help you with him there."
But I must carry him otherwise, Greenleaf acknowledged to himself. It made sense. The Dwarf was too small to carry Aragorn's long body; he didn't have the height to keep the Man from trailing on the ground. Greenleaf, however, did. Letting go of Aragorn for the moment, he loosened the strap on his quiver, allowing it to hang low on his back. He rehung his bow on it. Then, very carefully, he lifted the Man from the floor and draped the limp body over his shoulders. Aragorn's head hung down by the left side of Greenleaf's chest. The Elf stoically tried to ignore the Man's moans, but the worry still gripped him inside. He stood slowly, gradually accustoming himself to the weight. He held Aragorn steady.
"Lead the way," he told Gimli. The Dwarf nodded and made his way to the corridor leading out of one end of the hall. Greenleaf followed.
It was, as Gimli had said, an easy path. They went along it as fast as possible. Aragorn's legs swung by Greenleaf's side, even though the Elf held them. Greenleaf stayed close to the Dwarf, not wishing to lose him in the darkness. He was directly behind Gimli, and could hear clearly the jingle of his chain mail and the snorts of his breathing. The heat of the Man pressed on his shoulders and his smell was close to the Elf. Greenleaf could detect the vestiges of fear among the sweat and blood, and he looked at the lax face that was so close to his. The faint light provided by occasional torches allowed him to see the almost corpse-like visage. He had a few horrible moments when he thought that the Man was dead and all he had over his shoulders was a lifeless corpse, but his fears were allayed by the rasping breaths and odd moans. A little blood dripped from the corner of the slack mouth, landing on Greenleaf's sleeve. Aragorn's head bobbed up and down grotesquely with the Elf's strides. Suddenly, ahead of Greenleaf, Gimli stopped abruptly. Greenleaf walked into him, not expecting it.
"What the-?" he managed to ask, but Gimli held up a hand for silence. Scowling, Greenleaf adjusted the Man's weight on his shoulders as he stood there.
"This way," the Dwarf said eventually, pulling Greenleaf after him down to the right into another corridor.
Greenleaf kept his peace and followed. He would take up the issue later, when they weren't still in mortal danger. Right now, Aragorn was depending on him, and starting an argument would make the situation far worse. They hurried on in silence, the only sound being the clump of Gimli's boots and the light step of Greenleaf. The Elf looked around warily. It was far too quiet for his liking. There could be a perfectly rational explanation; he knew that, maybe the orcs didn't come this far. Greenleaf didn't know; he was utterly disorientated by the caves, not knowing where he was at all. Combined with the unnerving silence, it was making him twitchy. He didn't like being twitchy. It wasn't his style.
A sound from behind made him look round. It was a scraping sound, like metal against rock. It was only heard for an instant, and Greenleaf doubted that Gimli, with his dull Dwarven ears, would have heard it. He stopped for a moment, touching the Dwarf's shoulder with one hand. Gimli stopped too, seeing the urgency in the Elf's tense face in the faint light.
"There's something behind us," Greenleaf whispered, crouching to be at the Dwarf's height, "they're trying to be quiet, but I heard them."
"We turn off just up here," Gimli replied. His face was hidden in shadow but his tone was completely serious and professional. "If we can get there without being seen. . ."
"There's no torches for a while along this stretch," Greenleaf commented, "we'll have to be silent."
The Dwarf said nothing more, but Greenleaf sensed his assent. They both crept along the corridor. Occasionally Greenleaf would hear noises from behind: the clank of metal, the tap of footsteps, a harsh exhalation of breath. Gimli's hand touched his arm, guiding him left into another corridor. The ground was rockier and more uneven, causing Greenleaf to stumble slightly. It was only a small misstep, one that ordinarily wouldn't have mattered, but the movement jarred Aragorn's injuries. He, still unaware and unconscious, moaned in pain.
Greenleaf heard the twang and the rush of air behind him, despite him cursing the Man inside his head using every foul word he could think of –which, incidentally, was quite a few, as many of the people he met in foreign places seemed not to like getting hurt. He stepped to the side, but not far enough. The arrow grazed his side, spilling warm blood in its wake. Greenleaf hissed, and then Gimli was at his side pulling him down the corridor. For some reason he trusted the Dwarf's judgement, and allowed himself to be dragged.
"We'll have to fight them off," the dwarf told him, "because we'll never get through the way fast enough."
"What about Aragorn?" Greenleaf asked.
"We can leave him partway up the tunnel," Gimli said, "it's just here." He led the Elf to a small opening in the corridor wall. "Hurry, they're coming!"
Greenleaf said nothing, but eased Aragorn off of his shoulders. He crawled as best he could a little way up the tunnel, which sloped steeply. He was glad that the Man was unconscious really, as with his injuries it would have been even harder to get him up there. It was small, dark and cramped. Greenleaf found a small alcove and managed to lay Aragorn in it.
"Just stay here," he whispered, "please. You'll be fine, I promise. I'll be back soon." He touched Aragorn's forehead gently, and then went back, hurrying to the bottom of the tunnel.
The orcs were attacking by the time he got there. He left the tunnel unseen, and began his counterattack on the other side of the corridor. Gimli was already fighting, swinging his axe in vicious circles. Their opponents were orcs, a fairly large group of them, piling at the Elf and the Dwarf with weapons high. It was too close-quarter for Greenleaf to use his bow, so he could only use his knife. He dodged and ducked, using speed rather than brute force to kill them. A few of the orcs carried torches, their flickering light not particularly helping the fight either way. They roared as they fought. It was a confusing battle, impossible to see exactly what was happening. The confined space made it even worse.
Greenleaf was separated from Gimli, unable to see him. He was fighting almost blind, using his other senses instead. But even they were not infallible. A scimitar glanced off his arm, drawing blood. He slew the orc that had wielded it with a quick slash of his knife, felling it efficiently. Even as he did though, another took its place, bigger and uglier than the first. He was becoming surrounded by the creatures, and there seemed to be no end to their numbers. Greenleaf felt the first rising of panic within himself, the feeling that they'd never defeat all the orcs. He quashed the feeling as quickly as he could. He couldn't afford to fail now! Gritting his teeth, he continued to fight with all the skill he could muster.
But against their numbers, it was like trying to cut the wind. He stayed low for the most part, hoping that in the darkness the amount of orcs would become a disadvantage to them and they would end up harming each other. Yet it seemed that even if they did there would still be more. Of course, it was probably the enclosed space making it seem that way; there probably weren't actually that many, but still enough to kill him and Gimli. He wondered how long they'd been following them, whether they'd sent back for reinforcements and whether they'd realise where Aragorn was. For the first, it depended on how well the orcs knew the Mines as to whether they'd been pursued all the way from the troll pit or simply been spotted by a random group who'd just happened to be nearby. For now that point didn't really matter; it was the others that did, though Greenleaf had no way of answering them now.
He was fighting for his life. A clawed hand grasped at his hood and pulled it back, revealing the golden hair. Hisses and growls echoed around as the orcs realised that it was an Elf they fought. Their attacks came with greater ferocity, pressing him back and down. These orcs –with a couple of Uruk-hai among them- were very well trained. Sauron probably had a training facility somewhere, having realised that sheer weight of numbers wasn't good when the soldiers were as thick as the walls they threw themselves at. A harsh blow caught Greenleaf across the back of the head, sending him to his knees, momentarily dazed. Two orcs grabbed him by the arms and dragged him with them, away from the semi-lit area of the corridor. He tried to regain his feet, but as they ran faster he couldn't. Other orcs ran beside, jeering.
Greenleaf couldn't see a thing of where he was or where he was going. His knife had been knocked from his hand and the orcs held him securely. The only part of him free was his legs. He lifted them and swung them out before him, curving both in a graceful kick straight into the face of the orc on his left. The creature cursed in its foul tongue but didn't loosen its grip one bit. With the arm not holding the Elf it reached over and gave him an almighty clout across the face, smacking him on the cheek with the metal gauntlet it wore. Greenleaf slumped, knocked out for the moment. The orcs ran on, their feet pounding and thumping on the rocky floor.
When Greenleaf opened his eyes again, he didn't know whether he'd been out for seconds, minutes, or even hours. Everything seemed the same; black, dark and disorientating. Twisting his head, he counted five orcs, more from the sound of their feet than anything else. Damn it, he could take five measly orcs! Focussing all his will, he had a second go at the kick he had tried earlier, but with a different technique. He spread his legs, one for the orc on the left and one for the orc on the right, and kicked up with all speed. He caught them both under the chin where the gap in their armour was, then flung his legs upwards, snapping their heads back. They dropped him with cries of pain. He landed easily, hands going instantly behind to pull two arrows from his quiver. He didn't want his bow; in this situation shooting orcs in the dark was more than a metaphor. Instead he plunged both into the throats of the two orcs beside him, yanking them out again straight after. The other three orcs rushed into the fray, but in the dark they found it difficult. The Elf was soundless, as tricky to catch as a beam of light, darting and diving this way and that. It was not long before they too were lying dead.
Greenleaf walked a little way down the corridor, and then realised that he didn't have a clue where he was going. The way he had been dragged had been full of twists and turns, and in the darkness he had seen none of them. He felt faintly dizzy from the knocks on the head and the whole awful realisation was just spilling into his mind. He was stranded in the deep, convoluted Mines of Moria, and he had no idea where to go now.
Greenleaf was lost, alone, and beginning to feel more than a little afraid.
:::::::::::::::::::
You Only Live Forever
:::::::::::::::::::
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: On a lighter note, though I have referred to the troll here as "it", the troll in FOTR is definitely male. I kid you not, when you see that creature without the loincloth (as the model shows in the exhibition at the Science Museum, London) it has what I can only describe as "nadgers".
Review replies: theinklesspen: hmm, just imagine an intelligence test between Aragorn and the troll. Question: You see an enemy. What do you do? Troll: Hit it with big club. Aragorn: hit it with big sword. No differentiation there then.
Nemo Returning: I am rather proud of that one. Funnily enough, the image in my mind was of the elephants in the Jungle Book.
:::::::::::::::::::
Chapter 5. Between A Rock And A Hard Place
"Are you all right?" Greenleaf called, watching as the troll approached.
"Been better," Aragorn replied, readying his sword.
That was the only chance for conversation they had. The troll gave a roar and attacked its new prey. Its fist slammed down with devastating force, but Greenleaf had already moved, leaping to the side. There was a small crater left as the troll lifted its arm again. Its eyes squinted as it tried to understand what had just happened. The Elf didn't give it time to do so. He slashed at the creature's leg across the back of the knee, drawing a growl of agony from it. Its arms swung, but again missed him. Infuriated, it turned back to easier prey: Aragorn. The Man's injuries prevented him from moving fast enough to avoid the troll, and Greenleaf could see it. He ran at the troll, springing up to grab its iron collar. The creature reared as Greenleaf braced himself on the creature's back. He clung on, being tossed from side to side dizzyingly as the troll tried to shake him off.
Greenleaf stabbed at the back of its neck with his knife, but his blade glanced off its thick skin. The troll swiped at the Elf on its head as if trying to dislodge a particularly annoying fly. One of its hands caught Greenleaf on the side, throwing him off and onto the floor. He landed like a cat, spinning to face the troll as he did. It roared and charged towards him. He dodged, but unwittingly led it towards Aragorn. The Man was leaning against the wall of the pit, clutching his chest and breathing rapidly. The troll lumbered towards them, fury in its tiny little eyes. Sharing a quick glance, Man and Elf dived in different directions. Aragorn swore as his body crashed into the floor, and the troll turned his way. It raised its arm high; meaning to slam its fist down on the Man. Greenleaf saw his opportunity and darted forward.
He stabbed at the troll's armpit, wrinkling his nose at the smell. It bellowed and swung round to face the Elf. He had already moved back, forcing the troll to come after him and leave the Man. The wounds Greenleaf had inflicted seemed only to irritate it, much to his disgust. He stood his ground, readying his stance to meet the creature. It towered over him. The only thing Greenleaf could remember about trolls was their stupidity, but he couldn't see how to use this to his advantage at this particular moment. There wasn't really much opportunity to engage it in conversation. He stood steadily as it approached.
It was then that Gimli sent his flaming contraption down onto the orcs. The first explosion, and the second shortly after seemed to rock the cavern. Greenleaf stumbled, thrown off for a second in disorientation. The troll –being several moments behind events and unaffected by the explosion- chose that moment to strike. It grabbed Greenleaf by the leg and swung him into the air. He was spun in circles around the troll's head like some toy being played with. Kicking out with his free foot, he connected with its face but it was like kicking stone. Its skin was too think and solid. Aragorn looked up from his position on the floor, watching with horror. He pushed himself to his feet, gasping at the pain, and lifted his sword. With a cry, he plunged it into the troll's ankle with all his might.
The creature roared, lifting its foot and trying to stamp on the Man. He dodged backwards, almost tripping. The troll let go of Greenleaf to go for Aragorn with both hands, sending the Elf flying across the pit. He hit the wall and fell awkwardly to the ground, where he rolled as he landed. Everything was spinning around him, the floor heaving like the sea as he tried to stand. Before him he could see Aragorn facing the troll, but it all seemed rather blurred. The Man dodged again as a fist came down and sliced down with his sword as it did, lacerating its knuckles. The troll was becoming steadily angrier as it failed to get its Man, roaring and bellowing its frustrations. It lumbered forwards, but even injured Aragorn could outpace it. The only problem he had was running out of space, which he rapidly seemed to be doing. A fist slammed down, which he avoided, but then another did, and he was trapped between them. He looked up at the gleaming rage-filled eyes above him.
"Hey! Over here!" a voice yelled from behind the creature. Greenleaf, having regained enough of a sense of balance to stand, was trying to get its attention. His ploy worked; the troll swung round with a confused grunt. Aragorn leapt over its hand and out of its way. It didn't notice, but stared at the Elf.
"Hey, ugly!" Greenleaf shouted. "Up there!" He pointed upwards, bow in his other hand. The troll frowned and looked where he pointed. It was a big mistake on its part. Seconds later it fell to the ground with a colossal thump, an arrow protruding from its throat. Greenleaf was at Aragorn's side in moments.
"That Dwarf should be here any second," he said. He helped the Man to sit and then cast an experienced eye over his wounds. Blood trickled from the side of his mouth and bruises were beginning to purple on his face. Anything else Greenleaf couldn't see, but from the way the Man held himself there were worse injuries hidden. The Elf straightened, narrowing his eyes as he gazed through smoke and sniffing. Where did the Dwarf get the blasting powder from?
"Elf!" The call came from above, the edge of the pit. Greenleaf looked up and saw the bearded face of the Dwarf. A rope fell down, landing at the Elf's feet.
"It's secure up here," Gimli called, tugging at the rope to prove his point, "get up here now before the fire consumes all the air!"
Greenleaf nodded, and turned to Aragorn. The Man didn't look like he'd make it up the rope. His face was pale and his breathing shallow. Greenleaf knelt beside him.
"I'm sorry," he said quietly, "this will hurt." He picked up the Man, balancing him over his shoulder and trying to avoid aggravating any injuries. Aragorn groaned, and Greenleaf muttered another apology before standing slowly and going to the wall. He gripped the rope in both hands. "Grab my waist," he instructed, and felt the Man's arms wrap hesitantly around him. "And just hang on," he said, pulling himself up. The climb was about twice as high as the troll had been, and took the Elf longer that it would have normally, due to the additional weight of the Man. His muscles strained as he hauled hand over hand, making his way upwards slowly. Palms began to tingle uncomfortably as the rope rubbed against them. His face showed it. The situation he was in, the weight of the Man on his shoulder, the ever-thickening smoke; all was reflected in his tightly arched brows and set mouth. It seemed to take forever, but finally he reached the top, pointedly not taking Gimli's help. All around was smoke and confusion. Flames filled one end of the cavern, cutting off that side. Orcs were staggering about, dazed by the earlier blasts, but more were coming in, armed and angry. Luckily, they were finding it hard to see through the smoke.
"This way!" Gimli said, tugging at Greenleaf's arm. "Let's get out of here before they work out what's going on."
The Elf nodded, resenting the Dwarf's bossiness but still mindful of the Man over his shoulder. They ran across the cavern, Greenleaf being as careful as he could not to jostle Aragorn. The smoke began to burn in his lungs, and he wondered whether that was the feeling people got when smoking pipeweed. If so, he couldn't for the life of him see why they would want to. He coughed a little, his throat itching. A sudden roar from behind alerted them that the orcs had seen their escape. Black arrows began to fall around them as Gimli led them to a small tunnel in the cavern wall. Greenleaf stared at it. He'd never be able to carry Aragorn through that; the opening was too small.
"You'll have to crawl," he told the Man abruptly, setting him down, "Gimli, help him." He pushed him into the tunnel. "I'll be along in a minute," he called after them, pulling his bow from his back and fitting an arrow to the string. The orcs approached fast, but not so fast that Greenleaf couldn't fell several with his arrows. Further explosions shook the cavern as he dived into the tunnel. A last arrow winged past his head as rocks began to fall around him. He scrambled along the narrow way, hugging his bow to his chest as he did. Falling chunks of ceiling hit him painfully. At least none of the orcs would be able to follow, he realised. Complete darkness surrounded him and the ground still trembled. He hurried on, intent on catching up his companions. It didn't take long: Aragorn's injuries slowed him down quite a bit. His breathing was loud and harsh in the small space.
Greenleaf came up behind him, just in time to catch the Man as he collapsed. Gimli looked back worriedly.
"The tunnel comes out just up here," he said, taking Aragorn's shoulders. Greenleaf took his legs and together they heaved the Man through the rest of the narrow tunnel. It was hard going, as the way was too small to accommodate even a Dwarf comfortably, and Greenleaf was bent over in a most awkward position, completely the wrong one for carrying someone of Aragorn's weight. The muscles in his back were beginning to ache as they left the tunnel, straightening up in a small hall.
"Where to now?" he asked, checking on the Man. Aragorn's eyes were still closed and his breathing shallow. His skin was clammy.
"Give me a moment," Gimli muttered, walking across the hall. Greenleaf's head snapped up.
"Don't you know where we are?" he demanded.
"I'll remember," the Dwarf defended, "just wait a bit." He went over to one of the entrances and peered through it. It was, predictably, dark.
Greenleaf stood and strode over. "You'd better get us out of here, Dwarf," he hissed, using his height as much as possible, "that's what you're here for."
"You mean there's something you can't do?" Gimli asked viciously. Greenleaf shot a glare at him. "And I thought all you Elves were perfect," the Dwarf continued. "I know where we are, I just need to remember which way it is from here. You can't do anything except get out of my face."
They stared each other down, neither wanting to back away. A moan came from Aragorn, and Greenleaf broke off unwillingly to see to him. Having got the Man this far he wasn't going to lose him now. Aragorn was still unconscious, but his face was screwed up and he was moving restlessly. Fearing he would aggravate his injuries, Greenleaf took hold of the Man, trying to keep him still. While Gimli strode about the hall, muttering to himself, Greenleaf spoke to the Man in an attempt to calm him.
"Sh, Aragorn, take it easy, my friend," he said, his hands on the other's arms, "you'll be fine, don't worry. We'll get you out of here in no time." He glared at the Dwarf. "In no time," he repeated, trying to convince himself more than anything. He pulled Aragorn closer, murmuring further platitudes as he did. It seemed to work; the Man calmed when he was in the Elf's arms.
"I know where we're going," Gimli said, coming up behind the Elf. His tone was unapologetic.
"What is the route like?" Greenleaf asked, still looking at Aragorn. Carrying him through narrow tunnels would be awkward and only pain the Man further.
"Mostly wide and easy to walk," Gimli replied, understanding the Elf's concern, "but the last part will be small and difficult. I will help you with him there."
But I must carry him otherwise, Greenleaf acknowledged to himself. It made sense. The Dwarf was too small to carry Aragorn's long body; he didn't have the height to keep the Man from trailing on the ground. Greenleaf, however, did. Letting go of Aragorn for the moment, he loosened the strap on his quiver, allowing it to hang low on his back. He rehung his bow on it. Then, very carefully, he lifted the Man from the floor and draped the limp body over his shoulders. Aragorn's head hung down by the left side of Greenleaf's chest. The Elf stoically tried to ignore the Man's moans, but the worry still gripped him inside. He stood slowly, gradually accustoming himself to the weight. He held Aragorn steady.
"Lead the way," he told Gimli. The Dwarf nodded and made his way to the corridor leading out of one end of the hall. Greenleaf followed.
It was, as Gimli had said, an easy path. They went along it as fast as possible. Aragorn's legs swung by Greenleaf's side, even though the Elf held them. Greenleaf stayed close to the Dwarf, not wishing to lose him in the darkness. He was directly behind Gimli, and could hear clearly the jingle of his chain mail and the snorts of his breathing. The heat of the Man pressed on his shoulders and his smell was close to the Elf. Greenleaf could detect the vestiges of fear among the sweat and blood, and he looked at the lax face that was so close to his. The faint light provided by occasional torches allowed him to see the almost corpse-like visage. He had a few horrible moments when he thought that the Man was dead and all he had over his shoulders was a lifeless corpse, but his fears were allayed by the rasping breaths and odd moans. A little blood dripped from the corner of the slack mouth, landing on Greenleaf's sleeve. Aragorn's head bobbed up and down grotesquely with the Elf's strides. Suddenly, ahead of Greenleaf, Gimli stopped abruptly. Greenleaf walked into him, not expecting it.
"What the-?" he managed to ask, but Gimli held up a hand for silence. Scowling, Greenleaf adjusted the Man's weight on his shoulders as he stood there.
"This way," the Dwarf said eventually, pulling Greenleaf after him down to the right into another corridor.
Greenleaf kept his peace and followed. He would take up the issue later, when they weren't still in mortal danger. Right now, Aragorn was depending on him, and starting an argument would make the situation far worse. They hurried on in silence, the only sound being the clump of Gimli's boots and the light step of Greenleaf. The Elf looked around warily. It was far too quiet for his liking. There could be a perfectly rational explanation; he knew that, maybe the orcs didn't come this far. Greenleaf didn't know; he was utterly disorientated by the caves, not knowing where he was at all. Combined with the unnerving silence, it was making him twitchy. He didn't like being twitchy. It wasn't his style.
A sound from behind made him look round. It was a scraping sound, like metal against rock. It was only heard for an instant, and Greenleaf doubted that Gimli, with his dull Dwarven ears, would have heard it. He stopped for a moment, touching the Dwarf's shoulder with one hand. Gimli stopped too, seeing the urgency in the Elf's tense face in the faint light.
"There's something behind us," Greenleaf whispered, crouching to be at the Dwarf's height, "they're trying to be quiet, but I heard them."
"We turn off just up here," Gimli replied. His face was hidden in shadow but his tone was completely serious and professional. "If we can get there without being seen. . ."
"There's no torches for a while along this stretch," Greenleaf commented, "we'll have to be silent."
The Dwarf said nothing more, but Greenleaf sensed his assent. They both crept along the corridor. Occasionally Greenleaf would hear noises from behind: the clank of metal, the tap of footsteps, a harsh exhalation of breath. Gimli's hand touched his arm, guiding him left into another corridor. The ground was rockier and more uneven, causing Greenleaf to stumble slightly. It was only a small misstep, one that ordinarily wouldn't have mattered, but the movement jarred Aragorn's injuries. He, still unaware and unconscious, moaned in pain.
Greenleaf heard the twang and the rush of air behind him, despite him cursing the Man inside his head using every foul word he could think of –which, incidentally, was quite a few, as many of the people he met in foreign places seemed not to like getting hurt. He stepped to the side, but not far enough. The arrow grazed his side, spilling warm blood in its wake. Greenleaf hissed, and then Gimli was at his side pulling him down the corridor. For some reason he trusted the Dwarf's judgement, and allowed himself to be dragged.
"We'll have to fight them off," the dwarf told him, "because we'll never get through the way fast enough."
"What about Aragorn?" Greenleaf asked.
"We can leave him partway up the tunnel," Gimli said, "it's just here." He led the Elf to a small opening in the corridor wall. "Hurry, they're coming!"
Greenleaf said nothing, but eased Aragorn off of his shoulders. He crawled as best he could a little way up the tunnel, which sloped steeply. He was glad that the Man was unconscious really, as with his injuries it would have been even harder to get him up there. It was small, dark and cramped. Greenleaf found a small alcove and managed to lay Aragorn in it.
"Just stay here," he whispered, "please. You'll be fine, I promise. I'll be back soon." He touched Aragorn's forehead gently, and then went back, hurrying to the bottom of the tunnel.
The orcs were attacking by the time he got there. He left the tunnel unseen, and began his counterattack on the other side of the corridor. Gimli was already fighting, swinging his axe in vicious circles. Their opponents were orcs, a fairly large group of them, piling at the Elf and the Dwarf with weapons high. It was too close-quarter for Greenleaf to use his bow, so he could only use his knife. He dodged and ducked, using speed rather than brute force to kill them. A few of the orcs carried torches, their flickering light not particularly helping the fight either way. They roared as they fought. It was a confusing battle, impossible to see exactly what was happening. The confined space made it even worse.
Greenleaf was separated from Gimli, unable to see him. He was fighting almost blind, using his other senses instead. But even they were not infallible. A scimitar glanced off his arm, drawing blood. He slew the orc that had wielded it with a quick slash of his knife, felling it efficiently. Even as he did though, another took its place, bigger and uglier than the first. He was becoming surrounded by the creatures, and there seemed to be no end to their numbers. Greenleaf felt the first rising of panic within himself, the feeling that they'd never defeat all the orcs. He quashed the feeling as quickly as he could. He couldn't afford to fail now! Gritting his teeth, he continued to fight with all the skill he could muster.
But against their numbers, it was like trying to cut the wind. He stayed low for the most part, hoping that in the darkness the amount of orcs would become a disadvantage to them and they would end up harming each other. Yet it seemed that even if they did there would still be more. Of course, it was probably the enclosed space making it seem that way; there probably weren't actually that many, but still enough to kill him and Gimli. He wondered how long they'd been following them, whether they'd sent back for reinforcements and whether they'd realise where Aragorn was. For the first, it depended on how well the orcs knew the Mines as to whether they'd been pursued all the way from the troll pit or simply been spotted by a random group who'd just happened to be nearby. For now that point didn't really matter; it was the others that did, though Greenleaf had no way of answering them now.
He was fighting for his life. A clawed hand grasped at his hood and pulled it back, revealing the golden hair. Hisses and growls echoed around as the orcs realised that it was an Elf they fought. Their attacks came with greater ferocity, pressing him back and down. These orcs –with a couple of Uruk-hai among them- were very well trained. Sauron probably had a training facility somewhere, having realised that sheer weight of numbers wasn't good when the soldiers were as thick as the walls they threw themselves at. A harsh blow caught Greenleaf across the back of the head, sending him to his knees, momentarily dazed. Two orcs grabbed him by the arms and dragged him with them, away from the semi-lit area of the corridor. He tried to regain his feet, but as they ran faster he couldn't. Other orcs ran beside, jeering.
Greenleaf couldn't see a thing of where he was or where he was going. His knife had been knocked from his hand and the orcs held him securely. The only part of him free was his legs. He lifted them and swung them out before him, curving both in a graceful kick straight into the face of the orc on his left. The creature cursed in its foul tongue but didn't loosen its grip one bit. With the arm not holding the Elf it reached over and gave him an almighty clout across the face, smacking him on the cheek with the metal gauntlet it wore. Greenleaf slumped, knocked out for the moment. The orcs ran on, their feet pounding and thumping on the rocky floor.
When Greenleaf opened his eyes again, he didn't know whether he'd been out for seconds, minutes, or even hours. Everything seemed the same; black, dark and disorientating. Twisting his head, he counted five orcs, more from the sound of their feet than anything else. Damn it, he could take five measly orcs! Focussing all his will, he had a second go at the kick he had tried earlier, but with a different technique. He spread his legs, one for the orc on the left and one for the orc on the right, and kicked up with all speed. He caught them both under the chin where the gap in their armour was, then flung his legs upwards, snapping their heads back. They dropped him with cries of pain. He landed easily, hands going instantly behind to pull two arrows from his quiver. He didn't want his bow; in this situation shooting orcs in the dark was more than a metaphor. Instead he plunged both into the throats of the two orcs beside him, yanking them out again straight after. The other three orcs rushed into the fray, but in the dark they found it difficult. The Elf was soundless, as tricky to catch as a beam of light, darting and diving this way and that. It was not long before they too were lying dead.
Greenleaf walked a little way down the corridor, and then realised that he didn't have a clue where he was going. The way he had been dragged had been full of twists and turns, and in the darkness he had seen none of them. He felt faintly dizzy from the knocks on the head and the whole awful realisation was just spilling into his mind. He was stranded in the deep, convoluted Mines of Moria, and he had no idea where to go now.
Greenleaf was lost, alone, and beginning to feel more than a little afraid.
:::::::::::::::::::