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: Horribly clichéd dialogue warning! I just couldn't help it. And yes, I owe much to 'Casino Royale' near the end of this chapter, as indicated by the chapter title. Oh, it's mean to the poor Elf. Heh heh heh.
Review replies: Idlewild: so, did you get it right? I expect you did. I almost didn't get that 'Middle-earth is not enough' line in actually. Almost forgot it (shame on me). I'm glad I have a precedent for Greenleaf running around (or lying there anyway) starkers; it's not just me being pervy.
theinklesspen: orcs are such fun to write.
Nemo Returning: is that your guess? Well, let's see if you're right. And I protest; cliffhangers are good clean fun. Tanks aren't so old-fashioned in Middle-earth, you know. It's the whole mechanisation-is-evil thing.
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Chapter 13. "Say Goodbye to it, Prince Greenleaf."
I was sure that he was dead, Greenleaf thought. He stared at the other person in the room, almost not believing what he saw. The person smiled. At least, he showed his teeth.
"Such a pleasure, Prince Greenleaf. I knew we'd meet again, dear Elf, sooner or later."
Saruman walked across the cave to stand beside the captive Elf. He looked down at him, obviously enjoying himself. "Why so quiet? You usually have something to say." He chuckled. "Or maybe you think you've seen a ghost?"
Greenleaf looked back coolly. "I just didn't think you were worth the words," he retorted. Outwardly, he gave no other reaction, but inwardly he was seething. Confusion reared its head, and Greenleaf's thoughts were whirling. How had Saruman survived? He had slit his throat and left him in the rising waters in Isengard. He was sure that the wizard was dead. So how come Saruman was standing before him now with a smug grin? What in the name of the Valar was going on?
"You're always so charming," the wizard said, "I was so pleased to have the opportunity to meet you again. I felt that we had such an interesting conversation last time." He touched the Elf's face with cold fingers. "But I expect you're rather surprised to see me, aren't you? After you did your best to kill me –which, incidentally, makes you one of my least gracious guests." Saruman's face was in an almost comical scolding expression. "And yes, it did hurt, thank you so very much, but you were rather running out of breath by then and shot off without so much as a goodbye. Unluckily for you though it takes a bit more than that to get rid of me." He grinned and pushed his beard to one side. There was a long pink scar across his neck. "But you left your mark, didn't you?" His tone became hard and angry. "That's the closest anyone's come to getting me in a long time. Proud of that?"
"No," Greenleaf said simply, "but only because I didn't finish the job." He jerked as Saruman slapped him across the face, nails leaving lines across his cheek.
"Always being the funny one," the wizard said, "but never getting the laughs. Never mind; to use a cliché, who's got the last laugh now? It's not you for certain. You're the one stretched out and helpless while I'm the one with all the aces. Does that annoy you more than a little? It should do."
"Your luck will turn someday," Greenleaf stated calmly, "quite soon I expect."
That earned him another slap, but irritatingly the wizard seemed to stay quite calm. Greenleaf was trying to make him angry, as in anger mistakes are often made. It was an old tactic but a favoured one. Unfortunately, it wasn't working yet.
"You must indeed possess the gift of foresight to tell me this," Saruman said with heavy sarcasm, "I'm all a-quiver, I can tell you. Apologies if my cheerful outward appearance doesn't quite match my inner terror." He favoured the Elf with a scathing look. "Prince Greenleaf, why should I be afraid of what you say when I work with the greatest crime lord of Middle- earth?"
Greenleaf stared straight back at him. "Does he know you work 'with' him?" he asked. "You've always seemed to me to be one of the dogs that follow at his heels."
"Silence!" the wizard roared.
Oh, there was definitely a spark of anger there. All that was needed was to fan the flames, and Greenleaf knew just how to do it.
"It's a bit like the way you employed that little worm, Gríma, isn't it?" he said airily. "He thought that you and he worked together as equals. What sad delusions. Just like yours."
Saruman said nothing for a long while, but his eyes seemed to blaze with fury. Finally, in carefully moderated tones, he spoke.
"Foolish talk from one who is completely at my mercy." He forced a smile. "My only problem now is, well, what shall I do with you? So many ideas and so much time to employ them. There's too much choice, I fear."
Greenleaf raised a single mocking eyebrow. "Your talking is bad enough," he remarked, "all on the one topic. Me, me, me; that's all you bang on about. Torture enough, I'd say."
"Is that so, my dear Prince?" Saruman asked, with a hint of gritted teeth. "Then let's talk about your future, or lack of it. Sauron wants rid of you –no surprise there, I must say- and he doesn't care how it's done. Painful is the name of the game though, as I'm sure you can predict. And luckily for you, pain is one of my favourite subjects. I've studied it for rather a long time, you'll be pleased to know, and you're about to get the benefit of that experience." He smiled cruelly. "But oh, how to start?
"There's always burning, I suppose. That's quite a favourite tactic. I do so love the way skin blisters before it goes black. And I bet you'd love to smell your own flesh burning, wouldn't you? Hmm." He stroked his beard. "Or there's chopping little bits off and making you eat them. The look on people's faces at that point is sublime. Maybe I could combine the two; cook you then make you eat yourself." He chuckled. "Poison is always rather popular, but you have to get it just right or they die on you too soon. Decisions, decisions. I've spent so long thinking about it, you see."
"Nice to know I mean that much to you," Greenleaf commented. It was a blasé comment, aimed at hiding his growing feelings of worry, dread and even fear.
Saruman made no reply, but instead walked across the cave where Greenleaf couldn't see him. The Elf strained his ears but had no idea of what Saruman was doing. He found out though when the wizard returned to his side.
"This looks sharp enough to begin with," Saruman said, holding up a knife.
It was Greenleaf's knife, his Elven knife with its white handle. A few black spots of orc-blood clung to it. Greenleaf eyed it with mixed attitudes. Firstly anger that Saruman would dare to use his knife for such a purpose. But secondly hope; if his knife was here then the rest of his weapons probably were too. Not that he could get at them at the present, but it was useful to know. U would probably do something very nasty to him if he lost his bow. Probably not as far as killing him, more likely turning him into a frog, or maybe just making him believe he was one. That would be just like U, Greenleaf though wryly, something clever and psychologically disturbing. Unlike a certain other wizard he could name who preferred brute force and pain.
"Are you listening to me?" Saruman snapped, fiddling with the knife in his hands.
"Sorry, must have drifted off for a moment there." Greenleaf gave him a bright smile. "Today's been a bit of a fag, to be honest. I've met some frightfully tiresome people. You were saying?"
"Obviously nothing of importance," Saruman said with biting sarcasm. "Since it seems pointless to continue discussing this, I think we shall move on to the practical demonstration."
With one quick movement he opened a cut along Greenleaf's chest. The Elf didn't even flinch. He could feel the blood gathering in the wound and beginning to drip down his skin, noticing it in a rather detached manner that surprised even him. The second cut, parallel to the first and an inch further over, he treated similarly. It was probably the exhaustion, he supposed; he just couldn't be bothered to feel the pain at that point, though he would soon. Saruman continued across Greenleaf's chest, looking rather pleased with himself as he did. Another flick of the knife, another slice, and another red line blooming across the Elf's skin. It was only a little pain each time, but little pains add together in perfect multiples, growing in their undeniable way.
Soon the entire front of his chest was stinging fiercely and Greenleaf was finding it increasingly hard to keep up a calm face. Saruman was clearly enjoying it far too much. He chuckled a little every time he added a fresh cut.
"Well, Prince Greenleaf," he said after a little while, "are you enjoying yourself?"
Greenleaf forced himself to smile sweetly. "The accommodation is the best that can be desired given the location, "he said, "though the hospitality is somewhat lacking, I am sorry to say."
"I'm all cracked up with laughter," Saruman remarked coldly. He moved to hold the knife by Greenleaf's face. "How would you like me to improve that lovely face of yours?"
"I've always been rather happy with it, to be honest," Greenleaf responded. There was blood dripping from the blade onto his cheek, his blood.
"I think it's time for a change," Saruman said. He drew a line along the Elf's cheekbone slowly, and then slashed fast down the flesh of his cheek. Greenleaf couldn't but cry out a little. Saruman laughed.
Greenleaf mentally scolded himself. "It must be a great achievement for you," he said out loud," he said out loud, though his tone was more strained, "to be able to hurt someone who can't fight back."
"I wouldn't call it achievement," Saruman answered, smiling, "just pleasure, really. I have other things to be proud of. This is just fun. And, of course, art."
He grabbed Greenleaf's side and pulled him over onto his front as much as possible. The Elf's arms were twisted uncomfortably, straining against their sockets. He was lying half on his stomach, half on his side, legs twisted also. The change in position meant that his body was pulled tighter against the bonds. Saruman stood behind him, surveying the cuts, bruises and burns across Greenleaf's back. Finally, he picked his spot and laid his hand against it. Greenleaf tensed as the cold hand pressed against his left shoulder blade. Then he gasped as the knife dug into his back beside the hand and dragged its way across his skin. It traced a pattern, and he realised that it was cutting the outline of the hand onto his back.
He arched his head back, trying to ignore the pain. Saruman seemed to be taking an inordinate amount of time. Greenleaf's eyes fell on his wrists and the hard leather straps that held them tightly. Face hidden from the wizard's view, he smiled. He could get out of them. Pulling up as much as he could without Saruman noticing, he tried to get as much movement in his hands as possible, but there was little slack and no room for manoeuvre. Bending his fingers as far as they would go, he set to work on the buckle, trying not to give into tugging frantically at it.
"Perfect," Saruman said suddenly, catching Greenleaf by surprise. He stopped fumbling at the straps for a moment. The hand left his back and pressed the edge of the wound. He gasped.
"Exquisite, even," Saruman continued, staring at the bleeding hand drawn on the Elf's back, "you're marked now with my sign. Does that annoy you?"
He didn't wait for an answer but instead pulled Greenleaf onto his back again, landing him heavily against the stone. Greenleaf screwed up his face as his various wounds made themselves known vociferously. He opened his eyes again to see Saruman leering over him. He pulled a face back, revelling in the opportunity to be just a little childish. Saruman wasn't particularly amused by that, and he sneered before walking away a little. Greenleaf began to work on his straps again. He was panting with the effort of keeping the pain at bay.
"You didn't answer my question," Saruman said. "Doesn't it annoy you at all?"
"Oh no," Greenleaf replied as cheerfully as he could manage, "it'll heal after all."
"Fool of an Elf!" Saruman snapped, backhanding Greenleaf across the face. "You are not going to be surviving long enough for that to heal. Yes, you will take a long time to die, but not that long. And there will be less of you by then."
Greenleaf's eyes narrowed. "What is that supposed to mean?" he asked slowly.
Saruman smirked. "Oh, you'll see." He ran the flat of the Elven blade down Greenleaf's leg and back again, watching the slight tremble in the long tense limbs. It was only a light touch of the metal, leaving a trail of blood from the wounds inflicted earlier by it. It stopped at the juncture between his legs, almost caressing the body part there.
"Ever wondered what it would be like to be emasculated?" Saruman asked. "Prepare to be a eunuch.
"Say good bye to it, Prince Greenleaf."
It was, fortunately, at that moment that Greenleaf freed his hands from their restraints. He sat straight up immediately, knocking the knife away and punching Saruman in the face. He began to undo the straps from his ankles, ignoring the agony that accompanied his sudden movements. Light was filling his vision, almost causing him to miss Saruman coming at him again, knife in hand. Greenleaf threw his arm up in defence, pushing Saruman's knife hand away. They wrestled for a moment until Greenleaf gained his knife and thrust it at Saruman, wounding him in the shoulder. The wizard fell back and Greenleaf sliced the straps around his own ankles, finally freeing himself completely. Saruman attacked again, and again Greenleaf fended him off. This time the wizard stayed on his feet but also turned and hurried across the chamber. He grabbed his staff from where it leant against the wall and pointed it directly at the Elf.
"It would be unwise to try any foolish moves," Saruman said, panting heavily, "I would hate to kill you so soon but if I have to then I will."
"Foolish moves?" Greenleaf asked with a humourless laugh. "I regret to say that I have never learned to juggle. Though I'm sure I could think of a joke to tell you."
"Do not toy with me, prince!" Saruman snapped. "Do you not find your imminent death a matter for seriousness?"
"I recall you threatening me with much the same before," Greenleaf answered, "and I didn't believe you then either."
Saruman snarled and ran at the Elf, swinging the staff at him. Greenleaf caught it mid-swing, wincing as he did but holding firm. There was a silent standoff, both straining to control the staff.
"I thought so," Greenleaf muttered, staring the wizard in the eyes, "it's not your real staff, is it? It's a fake. You can't use it for magic, can you? What happened, did you lose it somewhere?"
"It is in Isengard," Saruman hissed in reply, "but I can still hurt you with this one."
He released his end of the staff for a split second and pushed it to the side. Greenleaf, not expecting such a move, was still pulling on it, and the staff connected abruptly with his side. Despite his surprise and pain, he used the opportunity to yank the staff away while Saruman wasn't holding it. He swung it round and knocked the wizard back.
"Can you?" Greenleaf asked, challenge shining in his eyes. He looked murderous.
Saruman got up and fled. Greenleaf cursed and leapt from the stone slab, meaning to pursue the wizard. Instead, he fell flat on his face, his body protesting at the strain it had been under. Swearing even more, Greenleaf watched the wizard vanish around the corner. He rested his forehead on the cold stone floor for a moment, trying to persuade his limbs to move with at least some co-ordination. I'll make you a deal, he told his body, you help me out of here and then I'll let you have a rest, all right?
It seemed to work, though there were protests from the more injured areas of his body. He managed to stand and stay standing, which was enough to begin with. Clothes were the next thing. Going by the fact that Saruman had picked up his knife from the far corner, Greenleaf looked there. Sure enough, his leggings, boots, belt, arm braces, cloak, bow and quiver were there, along with the few remaining shreds of tunic. Greenleaf dressed quickly, wiping his knife clean with one of the scraps and sheathing it on his belt. He would have to go bare-chested of course, but thinking about his wounds he was glad that he wouldn't have fabric rubbing against them. He strapped his quiver on his back, hanging his bow from it. He held his cloak in his hand.
Greenleaf staggered a little as he made his way out of the chamber. Unless Saruman had stopped not far away then he wouldn't catch him up. In the corridor he paused, looking first one way then the other. Eventually coming to a decision, he went left, limping slightly down the corridor. There was no one else around, which was just as well in his current state. It was completely dark. Greenleaf followed the way by running his hand along the wall, listening all the time. There was something horribly familiar about the whole scenario: he was lost and alone in a huge sprawling mess of dark caves. Not to mention the possibility of walking straight into some bloodthirsty bunch of orcs. Greenleaf shuddered a little at the thought.
Eventually he reached a lit part of the caves, illuminated by torches. A few orcs were walking past. Greenleaf concealed himself in the shadows, crouching by the base of the wall and pulling his cloak over himself. After they had gone he stood again, wishing for a moment that he could just sit there for a while longer. He walked forward, but as he did so he realised that they had not all gone. A figure was just approaching up one of the corridors. There was no chance that he hadn't been seen. Greenleaf drew his knife as the other drew his own weapon.
The two opponents headed for each other. In covering the distance between, Greenleaf noticed the height of his enemy and the nature of his weapon. He took a quick step to the side and grinned.
"Aren't you a little short for an orc?" he asked, grinning as he grabbed the other's shoulder. The axe swung around, stopping just before the Elf's stomach.
"What the-?" Gimli spluttered, staring up. He smiled suddenly. "Ah, I was just coming to find you." He looked Greenleaf up and down. "You look terrible."
"Yes, well," Greenleaf said, grin leaving his face, "it turns out that Saruman isn't quite as dead as I thought. He's still alive and more than kicking, as I found out the hard way."
"Saruman?" Gimli rested his axe on the ground and leant on it. "That's an unexpected piece of news, and an unwelcome one."
"It is," Greenleaf agreed, "but we cannot dwell upon it. If we are to blast this place then we need to do it quickly. Every delay could prove fatal to our plan."
"I think that I know where the stuff is to blow up the place," Gimli said, "it's about as far from the core of the volcano as it could be, and separated into smaller chambers, but it wouldn't take long to gather it all together. The entirety of it would be enough to set this place off. But in laying it out undetected..." He left the point unfinished.
"You'll need some form of distraction," Greenleaf understood. He pushed his hair back where his braids had come undone. "That can be arranged quite easily."
Gimli made a snorting noise. "In your state?" he asked incredulously.
"I've been in worse," Greenleaf replied coolly.
"Hmm. That's not the only thing though. I can leave trails to the powder, to give us time, but not long. To leave too long a trail would be open to, well, sabotage."
"Leave several trails," Greenleaf suggested, "and try to make some of them hidden. Plan out your escape route beforehand. Try to get it to go past wherever I'll be." He leant against the wall. He was tired, that couldn't be denied, but he would do whatever he had to, to get the mission finished. He looked up to see Gimli staring at him.
"And where are you going to be?" the Dwarf asked.
"Creating a distraction, of course," Greenleaf answered. "Who else is going to do it?"
"How are you going to do that?"
"Cause a disruption elsewhere," Greenleaf said evasively. He didn't want to divulge the exact details; he could already imagine the Dwarf's reaction.
"How?" Gimli pressed. When Greenleaf gave no reply, he continued. "If I'm to grab you on the way out, I need to know where you'll be."
"Well, that depends really," Greenleaf said.
"On what?" Gimli asked impatiently.
Greenleaf sighed. "On where Sauron is."
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A/n: on "Say goodbye to it, Prince Greenleaf". I've wanted to use it since I read the end of 'Casino Royale'. If you haven't read it, it's one of the best torture scenes I've ever read (involving a carpet beater and Bond's rather tender under parts). Talk about hitting a man where it hurts. And I just had to slip the word "eunuch" in, of course.