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: Sorry for this being so late. Computers are stupid. Anyway, after all that excitement, a little bit of calm. Naturally, it's the calm before the storm. Heh heh.
Review replies:
theinklesspen: Very good, I'm impressed. You've been reading my other fics and noticing them (curses, my self-plagiarism has been spotted!). We love Gimli. He's great.
Nemo Returning: Yup, out of Moria. Though the words "frying-pan" and "fire" come to mind. And you don't like the tunnels? Oh dear.
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Chapter 7. The Propensity of a Lady
Neither Greenleaf nor Gimli had left Aragorn's side since they had returned from Moria. They had stood back to allow Lord Elrond and U to work on Aragorn, but they wouldn't leave until they knew he would be all right. U had given them both stern looks but had been too concerned with the Man to chase them out. They stood together against the wall, for once not bickering. G entered, going straight to the bedside. She spoke a little with Elrond, and both looked worried. Bending down a little, she whispered to Aragorn, laying one pale hand on his head. He had been agitated and thrashing about, but at her words he calmed a little, lying more still. Straightening up, G fixed her eyes on Greenleaf and Gimli.
"Out," she ordered firmly, "now." She walked over and gave them both a glare in turn. "Come on. You both have wounds."
They looked like they would refuse, but the look in her eyes was not to be argued with. She followed them out, shepherding them into one of the other rooms.
"Stay here," she told them, "and I'll get someone to treat you." She held up a hand before either could speak. "We can talk after. Got it?" She swept out.
Greenleaf and Gimli glanced at each other, and a brief smile passed over both their faces before being quickly suppressed. Greenleaf was still doing his best to resent the Dwarf, but wasn't doing very well. Despite his generally prickly demeanour and arrogant behaviour (which Greenleaf loathed) he had proved some compassion in his treatment of Aragorn, and his for the Man now stood in his favour. His prowess as a warrior was beyond doubt; Greenleaf had to admire his skill in a fight. To his horror, the Elf found that he was feeling fond of Gimli. He had the uneasy feeling of actually wanting his company and thinking that he would be a good person to talk to. The thought was buried instantly –with Greenleaf vowing to dunk his head in cold water as soon as possible- but it kept niggling. Surreptitiously, Greenleaf looked sideways at the Dwarf, hair hanging forward to conceal his face and what he was doing.
Gimli was sitting now on one of the chairs, his legs hanging above the floor like a child's, but there the parallels ended. His stocky body was in no way childlike, seeming to be hewn from the very rocks he loved. The beard that started at his chin could almost be a growth of lichen or moss. He had removed his helmet, revealing a long dark bruise along his forehead. Greenleaf was half-shocked to see it. The Dwarf had made no complaint or even seemed wearied. Sturdiness was indeed a Dwarvish virtue, either that or Gimli was just too hardheaded.
Greenleaf sat on one of the beds. He picked at the drying blood in his hair, noting as he did that it was a mixture of orc blood and his own. It was well matted in, and he pulled at it until G walked back in, accompanied by two healers. Greenleaf smiled brightly at her, and she couldn't help but smile back, stern expression melting. She stood beside Greenleaf as one of the healers came over, carrying a bag. The healer, a strict-faced older Elf with dark hair, gave Greenleaf a quick look over.
"Right," he said briskly, "tunic off then. Let's get a better look."
Greenleaf undid his tunic obediently, having had previous experience with this particular healer. He was sure that MESS employed the most barbaric ones possible. Or at least, the ones who believed in causing pain to their patients for the betterment of healing. Perhaps it was just with him; he was a fairly frequent visitor to the healers, always with some injury or other. He pursed his lips as his injuries were probed none too gently. Looking across, he saw Gimli receiving similar treatment. They shared a short resigned look, which was quickly broken. Greenleaf knew that G was just waiting for an opportunity to give him an 'I told you so' eyebrow raise.
"Well," the healer's supercilious voice cut across his thoughts, "you're in better shape than you usually are, I have to say. Mostly just bruises," here he pressed at Greenleaf's side, "though these will be particularly colourful. You've got some nice cuts, here on your arm you'll need a bandage, and the one on your cheek needs cleaning. There's this long deep graze down your left side, I presume from an arrow?" He looked expectantly at Greenleaf, who nodded. "I thought as much. That'll need scrubbing out, don't want it to get infected, do we? Even if the arrow wasn't poisoned I'm sure it was utterly filthy. Now, you just sit still while I do that."
Greenleaf, for once, did as he was told, submitting to the healer's rather less than tender care. The substance used to clean his wounds stung abominably. A bandage was pulled viciously tight around his arm, and Greenleaf swore he saw a smile on the healer's face. He kept his own face emotionless, even as the healer moved onto his side. Cold fingers pushed along, washing blood and muck out with what seemed to Greenleaf to be sadistic delight. He bore it in silence though. After all the enemies he had faced, this was nothing, though he would rather face them all including the healer than argue with G in a bad mood. Luckily for now, she seemed to be smiling. Kind of, anyway.
"I'll see you both in my office in an hour," she said, "you both need a bath after this. The baths should be fairly empty at this time of day."
Bathe with a Dwarf? That was Greenleaf's immediate, unspoken response. He didn't dare say it; he could see a look-in-waiting hovering on G's face. He simply nodded instead.
To his surprise, Gimli silently agreed as well. There was not even a hint of a derogatory response. At first, Greenleaf thought that the Dwarf was simply cowed by G's imposing presence, but a look at his face changed that impression. The Elf stifled a laugh. Gimli was obviously rather sweet on the lady! He smiled as G left the room.
"There you go," the healer said, standing back, "all fixed. At least for now. You be careful with those now, you hear?"
Greenleaf nodded, feeling well scolded. He stood and walked to the door, pausing to look at Gimli. He rolled his eyes in the direction of the healer and they both grinned. Then he went out of the door, heading for his rooms to find clean clothes. He carried his worn tunic under one arm, feeling the crackle of paper within it. He would hide the map in his room while he took a bath, and then take it to G later. If she hadn't guessed what they'd found already, that was.
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The baths were, as G had predicted, practically empty. Only a couple of Elves chatted in a corner. They waved to Greenleaf as he walked in, but he didn't join them. Not for any reason he knew, he went over to one of the baths in another corner where a short red-haired figure was. Most of the baths were large pools of various sizes, aside from a few individual ones in alcoves. Gimli pulled a face as Greenleaf walked up. One of his hands held the side of the bath.
"They don't build these things for Dwarves," he complained. "There's no way that my feet will ever reach the bottom."
Greenleaf laughed, stripping off his clothes, un-braiding his hair and sliding into the water. It was hot, wonderfully so after the cold of the Mines. Even though they had been out of them for some time, he could still feel the chill in his bones, deep and penetrating. He sat on the ledge that ran around two sides of the bath a little way under the water (which Gimli had clearly not noticed), keeping his bandages out of it. The last thing he wanted was to go and see that healer again. After a few moments Gimli joined him on the ledge.
"What'll happen now?" he asked.
Greenleaf had a quick look round. The baths' only other occupants were the two on the other side, who were undoubtedly speculating wildly over why he was bathing with a Dwarf. Let them, Greenleaf thought. It had been a long day and he didn't care. "She'll send somebody out there," he told Gimli in a low voice. "It'll be up to her who it is, but I'd love to go." He grinned. "Wouldn't you?"
Gimli raised an eyebrow (and Greenleaf fought the urge to tell him that it was one of G's patent expressions). "She'll just send one person?"
"Maybe two." The Elf shrugged. "It's the whole thing of secrecy. Sauron would notice a huge army arriving on his doorstep, and open war is not what we want." He frowned, thinking fro a moment. "If we had a huge army, that is."
"What can one person do against the might of Sauron?" Gimli asked. "I heard he had a pretty big operation going on, with him as 'Mr. Big', so to speak."
"Ah, but one person may get by unseen where an army may not." Greenleaf gave the Dwarf a sideways look. "And as to what you can do, well, it all depends on you, doesn't it? Get it right and you can bring down the whole thing. You should have seen the mess we made of Isengard."
Gimli laughed a little. "I have heard about it," he said dryly, "it's a very picturesque spot now, I'm told. Popular holiday spot, nice view and everything."
Greenleaf smiled, caught off guard by the Dwarf's humour. He was surprised again by the simple fact that he liked him. But still trying to ignore it, he tipped his head forward, dipping his hair into the water in front of him. He wetted it thoroughly then began to rub soap in, washing out all the dried blood.
"I suppose it'd be just another mission for you," Gimli commented, "another scalp on your belt."
"Oh no," Greenleaf said, glancing at the Dwarf, "not at all. Each one's different, you know. And this, well," he paused, "it's bigger than most. We've known that something was happening in the East for a while, but didn't get confirmation of anything solid until recently. Sauron's probably about the biggest we've had to face in a long time."
"And that doesn't put you off?" Gimli asked. He stared at the Elf. "No," he continued slowly, "you like it. You prefer it, don't you?"
"The bigger they come the harder they fall." Greenleaf turned his attention to his legs, lifting them out of the water one at a time to soap and rinse. Bruises gleamed purple on his right calf, five small marks in an arc on either side of his leg. He rubbed at them gently, feeling the ache as he did so. A sideways glance told him that Gimli was watching him. He didn't really mind though. Greenleaf had never been shy about his body, having bee around too long to worry about trivialities like that. At least the Dwarf wasn't looking at him with pity; pity was one thing that Greenleaf hated, among others. Instead, it was a look of curiosity the Dwarf gave him.
"Why do you do it?" Gimli asked the Elf.
Greenleaf stared at him. It wasn't something he thought about often, if at all. He just did his job, as he had for centuries. He was good enough at it to survive and be able to keep at it. There was nothing else that he would contemplate doing. He could remain in Mirkwood, he supposed, living the life of a prince as his father would have liked him to. But he had lived that lifestyle, and it was boring. He hoped he would never have to become King. The prospect of endless dreary meetings with officious dignitaries concerning the running of the kingdom was far more awful than the worst torture any of his enemies could inflict. He was happy doing what he did; he loved the excitement, danger and intrigue of every mission. He couldn't begin to conceive what life would be like without the risk of death every now and then. It made him feel alive! And now this Dwarf was asking him why. As if there was any doubt for Greenleaf about why. It was obviously a silly question; the Dwarf was trying to push existential doubt on him.
"I just wondered," Gimli continued when he didn't get an answer, "I mean, don't you ever get tired of it? You must have been in this outfit for a long time."
"Before you were born," Greenleaf replied, side-stepping the question more than a little, "before your forefathers even." He submerged his head beneath the water again, rinsing his hair thoroughly and avoiding the need to answer Gimli. It wasn't so much the Dwarf's arrogance in asking the question; more his own suspicion that there was actually some truth in it. He had been at it for a long time, though he had thought little of it, as is the way of Elves. Time passed on in the way it always had. Only now did he properly realise how long he had worked for MESS, maybe due to the fact that he was working with mortals. It seemed only yesterday that his father had been ranting and raving about a group of Dwarves that had escaped from his dungeons, but now he was working with the son of one of them. It was the same with Aragorn; Greenleaf could remember quite clearly when the boy had been taken to Rivendell (though he couldn't be expected to remember particular details, like the boy's lineage; he had never been really interested in the affairs of Men after all). And during all that time he had been working for the Secret Service. At G's beck and call. Maybe he was slightly tired of it.
He pulled his head up again, throwing his hair back and spraying water as he did. He hauled himself out of the bath and reached for his towel. His body was long and pale, glistening with the water until he dried himself. He knew that the eyes of the Dwarf were on him, and put it down to professional jealousy. He looked over at Gimli as the Dwarf climbed out. Nothing to worry about there, he thought, smiling slightly. He picked up his clothes, donning them easily. He had only brought tunic and leggings with him. His boots he had left in his room, but he was as comfortable barefoot as he was with them on. He rubbed at his hair with the towel.
"I'll see you in G's office," he said to Gimli, and left the baths. Stones were cold beneath his feet as he walked, but the sun was warm above. He would have to hurry to the lady's office now, as his bath had taken longer than expected. Probably due to his conversation with the Dwarf. He only had time to pull on his boots before heading off again.
He dropped in to see how Aragorn was faring first. Lord Elrond and Gandalf had finished their immediate treatment, and Aragorn lay still on the bed. White bandages covered much of him.
"How is he?" Greenleaf asked. He stopped at the Man's bedside, looking down at the figure.
"Not too good," Elrond told him. "It will be some time before he is fully recovered. But he will recover, part in thanks to your quick treatment earlier."
Greenleaf nodded his thanks to the half-Elven Lord. He took a long look at the prone Man, saying nothing. Then he turned on his heel and left. G's office was just along the corridor. Greenleaf entered her secretary's office first, where Miss Evenstar was talking to Gimli. They both looked up as he walked in. Miss Evenstar seemed worried, though Greenleaf didn't really notice.
"He'll be all right," he told Gimli. The Dwarf nodded, looking relieved.
"Oh, good," Miss Evenstar exclaimed. Greenleaf was surprised by her concern –she barely knew the Man- but he smiled anyway as he realised why. She coughed. "You'd better go in," she said, indicating to the door. They went in to where G was waiting.
"What did you find?" she asked as soon as the door had been shut. She was straight to the point, as ever.
Greenleaf pulled out the map and handed it over. He didn't need to say anything. G examined the map carefully, frowning a little.
"Orodruin," she said finally, "Sauron has his base in the very heart of Mordor." She paused. "Much as we expected really. But we didn't think he'd be in 'Mount Doom'."
"He was his secret lair inside a volcano," Greenleaf said, and the corner of his mouth twitched, "got a nice sense of drama to it, I suppose. Must be quite a feat of engineering."
Gimli stroked his beard. "I'll bet. Be interesting to see, I'll warrant." His eyes met Greenleaf's, and a brief spark of understanding passed between them. The Elf took his lead gladly.
"All built by orcs, I expect," he said, "but being inside a volcano has got to be dangerous. There's surely some way to use that."
"Maybe setting off an exception would do the trick," Gimli mused. He winked at Greenleaf while G's eyes were on the map.
"An explosion, perhaps," Greenleaf picked up the Dwarf's thread.
"The orcs seemed to have that blasting stuff in abundance in Moria," Gimli continued, running with it. His expression became calculating. "Of course, it'll all be caves."
Greenleaf sent his co-conspirator a deadly glare when he was sure that G wasn't looking. "You couldn't send an Elf on their own," he said, grudgingly continuing that line, "it just wouldn't work. But with a companion..."
"Who would be a Dwarf, naturally," Gimli said, "no one better than a Dwarf for caves. And the heat of a smithy, you know, prepares you for the temperatures in a volcano."
They both stopped talking as G fixed her gaze on both of them. Greenleaf smiled innocently and refused to be cowed. Gimli, beside him, did the same. G came out from behind her desk to stand directly in front of the pair, looking for all Middle-earth like she was about to scold them like children. But her voice remained level.
"Why do you assume that you will be going?"
"Did we say that?" Greenleaf asked, eyes widening. "We were just offering suggestions, that's all. Didn't say a thing about going."
"Drop the act, Legolas," she said, "I know what you two are hinting at. You are not going to Mordor."
Greenleaf looked at her with his piercing blue eyes. "Why?" he asked.
"You've only just been sent on a mission," she told him calmly, "and you're injured, not to mention tired, I'm sure."
"It takes more than that to tire me out," he said, beginning to get angry, "and I'm hardly injured. A few bruises and cuts, and that's all. I'm fine."
G raised an eyebrow at him.
More than a little infuriated, Greenleaf's face became mutinous. "Who else will you send?" His tone was challenging.
G focussed her gaze directly on him. It was unnerving, but he didn't let her see it. Her voice was still perfectly calm. "It doesn't matter. But you're not going."
There was a silent confrontation, a standoff between the two Elves. Blue eyes met blue eyes, neither backing down. Gimli stood to the side, not daring to interrupt; he wasn't that stupid. The lady, tall and elegant, looked across at her rebellious agent. His brows were drawn tight in anger as he came to a decision.
"I'll go anyway," he said. "With all due respect, ma'am, I want to see this through." He forced himself to appear as calm as she did. "You know I can do this."
G gave him a long, searching stare. "I know you can," she said finally, "it's just..."
"I'll be very, very careful," Greenleaf promised, seeing her determination waver.
"Oh, where have I heard that before? Legolas, like I said, you're tired and injured. You can't possibly go."
"And like I said, I'm fine." Greenleaf resisted the urge to put his hands on his hips. It would have seemed childish. "I'm going. That's final."
There was another long silence. Eventually, G sighed. "Very well," she said, "if you must. Yes, I will send you to Mordor, but," here she raised a finger, "you will not go alone."
Greenleaf smiled. "I thought perhaps..." He looked over at Gimli, who had been keeping very quiet. The Dwarf grinned back, teeth showing white between his lips, surrounded by red beard. G gave them both a long look. It seemed to be one of her favourite tactics in a conversation. Greenleaf had to admit that it worked; anyone in a conversation with her would find themselves saying more than they meant to, to try and fill the awkward silences. Either that or they became completely intimidated and told her anything. But Greenleaf was wise to that.
"Gimli, son of Glóin, will you go to Mordor with this Elf?" she asked. A secret smile was on her face, as if she was amused by some private joke.
"Yes," the Dwarf replied, "with your leave, milady." He made a funny little bow with his head.
"Then you must prepare," G said. She went behind her desk again and opened one of the drawers, pulling out a map. She spread it out, laying the orcs' map beside it. With a long finger she traced a route, beginning at Lothlórien and ending deep in Mordor, at Mount Doom. "Will you go on Shadowfax?" she asked. "Both of you?"
Both nodded, though Gimli's nod was somewhat reluctant. He was still unsure about the idea of riding, despite his journey from Dimrill Dale on Hasufel. He had bruises in places he didn't want to mention.
"You'll need a little time before you go," G said, "to get ready and so forth. I'll let U know and you'll have to go and see him. Don't do anything silly beforehand."
Greenleaf and Gimli both feigned looks of complete innocence. Inwardly, G smirked. They were more similar than either would like to admit.
"You leave in a week," she said.
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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: Sorry for this being so late. Computers are stupid. Anyway, after all that excitement, a little bit of calm. Naturally, it's the calm before the storm. Heh heh.
Review replies:
theinklesspen: Very good, I'm impressed. You've been reading my other fics and noticing them (curses, my self-plagiarism has been spotted!). We love Gimli. He's great.
Nemo Returning: Yup, out of Moria. Though the words "frying-pan" and "fire" come to mind. And you don't like the tunnels? Oh dear.
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Chapter 7. The Propensity of a Lady
Neither Greenleaf nor Gimli had left Aragorn's side since they had returned from Moria. They had stood back to allow Lord Elrond and U to work on Aragorn, but they wouldn't leave until they knew he would be all right. U had given them both stern looks but had been too concerned with the Man to chase them out. They stood together against the wall, for once not bickering. G entered, going straight to the bedside. She spoke a little with Elrond, and both looked worried. Bending down a little, she whispered to Aragorn, laying one pale hand on his head. He had been agitated and thrashing about, but at her words he calmed a little, lying more still. Straightening up, G fixed her eyes on Greenleaf and Gimli.
"Out," she ordered firmly, "now." She walked over and gave them both a glare in turn. "Come on. You both have wounds."
They looked like they would refuse, but the look in her eyes was not to be argued with. She followed them out, shepherding them into one of the other rooms.
"Stay here," she told them, "and I'll get someone to treat you." She held up a hand before either could speak. "We can talk after. Got it?" She swept out.
Greenleaf and Gimli glanced at each other, and a brief smile passed over both their faces before being quickly suppressed. Greenleaf was still doing his best to resent the Dwarf, but wasn't doing very well. Despite his generally prickly demeanour and arrogant behaviour (which Greenleaf loathed) he had proved some compassion in his treatment of Aragorn, and his for the Man now stood in his favour. His prowess as a warrior was beyond doubt; Greenleaf had to admire his skill in a fight. To his horror, the Elf found that he was feeling fond of Gimli. He had the uneasy feeling of actually wanting his company and thinking that he would be a good person to talk to. The thought was buried instantly –with Greenleaf vowing to dunk his head in cold water as soon as possible- but it kept niggling. Surreptitiously, Greenleaf looked sideways at the Dwarf, hair hanging forward to conceal his face and what he was doing.
Gimli was sitting now on one of the chairs, his legs hanging above the floor like a child's, but there the parallels ended. His stocky body was in no way childlike, seeming to be hewn from the very rocks he loved. The beard that started at his chin could almost be a growth of lichen or moss. He had removed his helmet, revealing a long dark bruise along his forehead. Greenleaf was half-shocked to see it. The Dwarf had made no complaint or even seemed wearied. Sturdiness was indeed a Dwarvish virtue, either that or Gimli was just too hardheaded.
Greenleaf sat on one of the beds. He picked at the drying blood in his hair, noting as he did that it was a mixture of orc blood and his own. It was well matted in, and he pulled at it until G walked back in, accompanied by two healers. Greenleaf smiled brightly at her, and she couldn't help but smile back, stern expression melting. She stood beside Greenleaf as one of the healers came over, carrying a bag. The healer, a strict-faced older Elf with dark hair, gave Greenleaf a quick look over.
"Right," he said briskly, "tunic off then. Let's get a better look."
Greenleaf undid his tunic obediently, having had previous experience with this particular healer. He was sure that MESS employed the most barbaric ones possible. Or at least, the ones who believed in causing pain to their patients for the betterment of healing. Perhaps it was just with him; he was a fairly frequent visitor to the healers, always with some injury or other. He pursed his lips as his injuries were probed none too gently. Looking across, he saw Gimli receiving similar treatment. They shared a short resigned look, which was quickly broken. Greenleaf knew that G was just waiting for an opportunity to give him an 'I told you so' eyebrow raise.
"Well," the healer's supercilious voice cut across his thoughts, "you're in better shape than you usually are, I have to say. Mostly just bruises," here he pressed at Greenleaf's side, "though these will be particularly colourful. You've got some nice cuts, here on your arm you'll need a bandage, and the one on your cheek needs cleaning. There's this long deep graze down your left side, I presume from an arrow?" He looked expectantly at Greenleaf, who nodded. "I thought as much. That'll need scrubbing out, don't want it to get infected, do we? Even if the arrow wasn't poisoned I'm sure it was utterly filthy. Now, you just sit still while I do that."
Greenleaf, for once, did as he was told, submitting to the healer's rather less than tender care. The substance used to clean his wounds stung abominably. A bandage was pulled viciously tight around his arm, and Greenleaf swore he saw a smile on the healer's face. He kept his own face emotionless, even as the healer moved onto his side. Cold fingers pushed along, washing blood and muck out with what seemed to Greenleaf to be sadistic delight. He bore it in silence though. After all the enemies he had faced, this was nothing, though he would rather face them all including the healer than argue with G in a bad mood. Luckily for now, she seemed to be smiling. Kind of, anyway.
"I'll see you both in my office in an hour," she said, "you both need a bath after this. The baths should be fairly empty at this time of day."
Bathe with a Dwarf? That was Greenleaf's immediate, unspoken response. He didn't dare say it; he could see a look-in-waiting hovering on G's face. He simply nodded instead.
To his surprise, Gimli silently agreed as well. There was not even a hint of a derogatory response. At first, Greenleaf thought that the Dwarf was simply cowed by G's imposing presence, but a look at his face changed that impression. The Elf stifled a laugh. Gimli was obviously rather sweet on the lady! He smiled as G left the room.
"There you go," the healer said, standing back, "all fixed. At least for now. You be careful with those now, you hear?"
Greenleaf nodded, feeling well scolded. He stood and walked to the door, pausing to look at Gimli. He rolled his eyes in the direction of the healer and they both grinned. Then he went out of the door, heading for his rooms to find clean clothes. He carried his worn tunic under one arm, feeling the crackle of paper within it. He would hide the map in his room while he took a bath, and then take it to G later. If she hadn't guessed what they'd found already, that was.
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The baths were, as G had predicted, practically empty. Only a couple of Elves chatted in a corner. They waved to Greenleaf as he walked in, but he didn't join them. Not for any reason he knew, he went over to one of the baths in another corner where a short red-haired figure was. Most of the baths were large pools of various sizes, aside from a few individual ones in alcoves. Gimli pulled a face as Greenleaf walked up. One of his hands held the side of the bath.
"They don't build these things for Dwarves," he complained. "There's no way that my feet will ever reach the bottom."
Greenleaf laughed, stripping off his clothes, un-braiding his hair and sliding into the water. It was hot, wonderfully so after the cold of the Mines. Even though they had been out of them for some time, he could still feel the chill in his bones, deep and penetrating. He sat on the ledge that ran around two sides of the bath a little way under the water (which Gimli had clearly not noticed), keeping his bandages out of it. The last thing he wanted was to go and see that healer again. After a few moments Gimli joined him on the ledge.
"What'll happen now?" he asked.
Greenleaf had a quick look round. The baths' only other occupants were the two on the other side, who were undoubtedly speculating wildly over why he was bathing with a Dwarf. Let them, Greenleaf thought. It had been a long day and he didn't care. "She'll send somebody out there," he told Gimli in a low voice. "It'll be up to her who it is, but I'd love to go." He grinned. "Wouldn't you?"
Gimli raised an eyebrow (and Greenleaf fought the urge to tell him that it was one of G's patent expressions). "She'll just send one person?"
"Maybe two." The Elf shrugged. "It's the whole thing of secrecy. Sauron would notice a huge army arriving on his doorstep, and open war is not what we want." He frowned, thinking fro a moment. "If we had a huge army, that is."
"What can one person do against the might of Sauron?" Gimli asked. "I heard he had a pretty big operation going on, with him as 'Mr. Big', so to speak."
"Ah, but one person may get by unseen where an army may not." Greenleaf gave the Dwarf a sideways look. "And as to what you can do, well, it all depends on you, doesn't it? Get it right and you can bring down the whole thing. You should have seen the mess we made of Isengard."
Gimli laughed a little. "I have heard about it," he said dryly, "it's a very picturesque spot now, I'm told. Popular holiday spot, nice view and everything."
Greenleaf smiled, caught off guard by the Dwarf's humour. He was surprised again by the simple fact that he liked him. But still trying to ignore it, he tipped his head forward, dipping his hair into the water in front of him. He wetted it thoroughly then began to rub soap in, washing out all the dried blood.
"I suppose it'd be just another mission for you," Gimli commented, "another scalp on your belt."
"Oh no," Greenleaf said, glancing at the Dwarf, "not at all. Each one's different, you know. And this, well," he paused, "it's bigger than most. We've known that something was happening in the East for a while, but didn't get confirmation of anything solid until recently. Sauron's probably about the biggest we've had to face in a long time."
"And that doesn't put you off?" Gimli asked. He stared at the Elf. "No," he continued slowly, "you like it. You prefer it, don't you?"
"The bigger they come the harder they fall." Greenleaf turned his attention to his legs, lifting them out of the water one at a time to soap and rinse. Bruises gleamed purple on his right calf, five small marks in an arc on either side of his leg. He rubbed at them gently, feeling the ache as he did so. A sideways glance told him that Gimli was watching him. He didn't really mind though. Greenleaf had never been shy about his body, having bee around too long to worry about trivialities like that. At least the Dwarf wasn't looking at him with pity; pity was one thing that Greenleaf hated, among others. Instead, it was a look of curiosity the Dwarf gave him.
"Why do you do it?" Gimli asked the Elf.
Greenleaf stared at him. It wasn't something he thought about often, if at all. He just did his job, as he had for centuries. He was good enough at it to survive and be able to keep at it. There was nothing else that he would contemplate doing. He could remain in Mirkwood, he supposed, living the life of a prince as his father would have liked him to. But he had lived that lifestyle, and it was boring. He hoped he would never have to become King. The prospect of endless dreary meetings with officious dignitaries concerning the running of the kingdom was far more awful than the worst torture any of his enemies could inflict. He was happy doing what he did; he loved the excitement, danger and intrigue of every mission. He couldn't begin to conceive what life would be like without the risk of death every now and then. It made him feel alive! And now this Dwarf was asking him why. As if there was any doubt for Greenleaf about why. It was obviously a silly question; the Dwarf was trying to push existential doubt on him.
"I just wondered," Gimli continued when he didn't get an answer, "I mean, don't you ever get tired of it? You must have been in this outfit for a long time."
"Before you were born," Greenleaf replied, side-stepping the question more than a little, "before your forefathers even." He submerged his head beneath the water again, rinsing his hair thoroughly and avoiding the need to answer Gimli. It wasn't so much the Dwarf's arrogance in asking the question; more his own suspicion that there was actually some truth in it. He had been at it for a long time, though he had thought little of it, as is the way of Elves. Time passed on in the way it always had. Only now did he properly realise how long he had worked for MESS, maybe due to the fact that he was working with mortals. It seemed only yesterday that his father had been ranting and raving about a group of Dwarves that had escaped from his dungeons, but now he was working with the son of one of them. It was the same with Aragorn; Greenleaf could remember quite clearly when the boy had been taken to Rivendell (though he couldn't be expected to remember particular details, like the boy's lineage; he had never been really interested in the affairs of Men after all). And during all that time he had been working for the Secret Service. At G's beck and call. Maybe he was slightly tired of it.
He pulled his head up again, throwing his hair back and spraying water as he did. He hauled himself out of the bath and reached for his towel. His body was long and pale, glistening with the water until he dried himself. He knew that the eyes of the Dwarf were on him, and put it down to professional jealousy. He looked over at Gimli as the Dwarf climbed out. Nothing to worry about there, he thought, smiling slightly. He picked up his clothes, donning them easily. He had only brought tunic and leggings with him. His boots he had left in his room, but he was as comfortable barefoot as he was with them on. He rubbed at his hair with the towel.
"I'll see you in G's office," he said to Gimli, and left the baths. Stones were cold beneath his feet as he walked, but the sun was warm above. He would have to hurry to the lady's office now, as his bath had taken longer than expected. Probably due to his conversation with the Dwarf. He only had time to pull on his boots before heading off again.
He dropped in to see how Aragorn was faring first. Lord Elrond and Gandalf had finished their immediate treatment, and Aragorn lay still on the bed. White bandages covered much of him.
"How is he?" Greenleaf asked. He stopped at the Man's bedside, looking down at the figure.
"Not too good," Elrond told him. "It will be some time before he is fully recovered. But he will recover, part in thanks to your quick treatment earlier."
Greenleaf nodded his thanks to the half-Elven Lord. He took a long look at the prone Man, saying nothing. Then he turned on his heel and left. G's office was just along the corridor. Greenleaf entered her secretary's office first, where Miss Evenstar was talking to Gimli. They both looked up as he walked in. Miss Evenstar seemed worried, though Greenleaf didn't really notice.
"He'll be all right," he told Gimli. The Dwarf nodded, looking relieved.
"Oh, good," Miss Evenstar exclaimed. Greenleaf was surprised by her concern –she barely knew the Man- but he smiled anyway as he realised why. She coughed. "You'd better go in," she said, indicating to the door. They went in to where G was waiting.
"What did you find?" she asked as soon as the door had been shut. She was straight to the point, as ever.
Greenleaf pulled out the map and handed it over. He didn't need to say anything. G examined the map carefully, frowning a little.
"Orodruin," she said finally, "Sauron has his base in the very heart of Mordor." She paused. "Much as we expected really. But we didn't think he'd be in 'Mount Doom'."
"He was his secret lair inside a volcano," Greenleaf said, and the corner of his mouth twitched, "got a nice sense of drama to it, I suppose. Must be quite a feat of engineering."
Gimli stroked his beard. "I'll bet. Be interesting to see, I'll warrant." His eyes met Greenleaf's, and a brief spark of understanding passed between them. The Elf took his lead gladly.
"All built by orcs, I expect," he said, "but being inside a volcano has got to be dangerous. There's surely some way to use that."
"Maybe setting off an exception would do the trick," Gimli mused. He winked at Greenleaf while G's eyes were on the map.
"An explosion, perhaps," Greenleaf picked up the Dwarf's thread.
"The orcs seemed to have that blasting stuff in abundance in Moria," Gimli continued, running with it. His expression became calculating. "Of course, it'll all be caves."
Greenleaf sent his co-conspirator a deadly glare when he was sure that G wasn't looking. "You couldn't send an Elf on their own," he said, grudgingly continuing that line, "it just wouldn't work. But with a companion..."
"Who would be a Dwarf, naturally," Gimli said, "no one better than a Dwarf for caves. And the heat of a smithy, you know, prepares you for the temperatures in a volcano."
They both stopped talking as G fixed her gaze on both of them. Greenleaf smiled innocently and refused to be cowed. Gimli, beside him, did the same. G came out from behind her desk to stand directly in front of the pair, looking for all Middle-earth like she was about to scold them like children. But her voice remained level.
"Why do you assume that you will be going?"
"Did we say that?" Greenleaf asked, eyes widening. "We were just offering suggestions, that's all. Didn't say a thing about going."
"Drop the act, Legolas," she said, "I know what you two are hinting at. You are not going to Mordor."
Greenleaf looked at her with his piercing blue eyes. "Why?" he asked.
"You've only just been sent on a mission," she told him calmly, "and you're injured, not to mention tired, I'm sure."
"It takes more than that to tire me out," he said, beginning to get angry, "and I'm hardly injured. A few bruises and cuts, and that's all. I'm fine."
G raised an eyebrow at him.
More than a little infuriated, Greenleaf's face became mutinous. "Who else will you send?" His tone was challenging.
G focussed her gaze directly on him. It was unnerving, but he didn't let her see it. Her voice was still perfectly calm. "It doesn't matter. But you're not going."
There was a silent confrontation, a standoff between the two Elves. Blue eyes met blue eyes, neither backing down. Gimli stood to the side, not daring to interrupt; he wasn't that stupid. The lady, tall and elegant, looked across at her rebellious agent. His brows were drawn tight in anger as he came to a decision.
"I'll go anyway," he said. "With all due respect, ma'am, I want to see this through." He forced himself to appear as calm as she did. "You know I can do this."
G gave him a long, searching stare. "I know you can," she said finally, "it's just..."
"I'll be very, very careful," Greenleaf promised, seeing her determination waver.
"Oh, where have I heard that before? Legolas, like I said, you're tired and injured. You can't possibly go."
"And like I said, I'm fine." Greenleaf resisted the urge to put his hands on his hips. It would have seemed childish. "I'm going. That's final."
There was another long silence. Eventually, G sighed. "Very well," she said, "if you must. Yes, I will send you to Mordor, but," here she raised a finger, "you will not go alone."
Greenleaf smiled. "I thought perhaps..." He looked over at Gimli, who had been keeping very quiet. The Dwarf grinned back, teeth showing white between his lips, surrounded by red beard. G gave them both a long look. It seemed to be one of her favourite tactics in a conversation. Greenleaf had to admit that it worked; anyone in a conversation with her would find themselves saying more than they meant to, to try and fill the awkward silences. Either that or they became completely intimidated and told her anything. But Greenleaf was wise to that.
"Gimli, son of Glóin, will you go to Mordor with this Elf?" she asked. A secret smile was on her face, as if she was amused by some private joke.
"Yes," the Dwarf replied, "with your leave, milady." He made a funny little bow with his head.
"Then you must prepare," G said. She went behind her desk again and opened one of the drawers, pulling out a map. She spread it out, laying the orcs' map beside it. With a long finger she traced a route, beginning at Lothlórien and ending deep in Mordor, at Mount Doom. "Will you go on Shadowfax?" she asked. "Both of you?"
Both nodded, though Gimli's nod was somewhat reluctant. He was still unsure about the idea of riding, despite his journey from Dimrill Dale on Hasufel. He had bruises in places he didn't want to mention.
"You'll need a little time before you go," G said, "to get ready and so forth. I'll let U know and you'll have to go and see him. Don't do anything silly beforehand."
Greenleaf and Gimli both feigned looks of complete innocence. Inwardly, G smirked. They were more similar than either would like to admit.
"You leave in a week," she said.
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