Legolas Greenleaf: Agent of MESS


Disclaimer: Legolas Greenleaf and associated characters belong to JRR Tolkien. Legolas' appearance belongs to Orlando Bloom in a wig. The James Bond concept was created, or at least best used by Ian Fleming. A few odd characters and moments belong elsewhere.

Author's notes: I have read of Legolas being described as an assassin. This led, on one dreary day, to the idea of him as a secret agent, very much in the way of James Bond. Of course, Greenleaf has a style quite of his own. Straight from Fleming is the practise of calling our hero by his surname (Bond in that case, Greenleaf in this), apart from in a few notable exceptions. Several of Bond's attitudes have made their way into this -and I'm talking about Bond from the books here- but I shall apologise for this later. Suffice it to say that James Bond has never heard of political correctness and would never subscribe to it. This is not a romance, though it is definitely an AU.

This was originally going to be a comedy piece, but it wouldn't let itself be written like that. A couple of bits are hangovers from the original idea, such as the acronyms, but there are still a few laughs to be had. At least, I thought they were amusing.

Enough notes; on with the story. Hope you enjoy it. Feedback is greatly appreciated, though flames are fed to Saruman's pet fish. Most of the story is actually already written, though not typed. I'll try to update it about twice a week.


The action-packed adventures of Legolas Greenleaf, secret agent, as he fights to save Middle Earth from the machinations of a magic-making mobster.


Chapter 1. The Secret Agent.

The fragrance and flowers and fermentations of the Rivendell halls are nauseating at three in the morning. There are times when even the most ardent and experienced pleasure seeker becomes weary, sick to his soul of the endless trivialities. He must escape this, but his duty bids him stay.

Legolas Greenleaf knew he was approaching this point. The delicate wine, a Lothlorien '82, now tasted bland in his knowledgeable mouth, its delicate bouquet grown tired on his palate. The night had been long, long enough for Greenleaf to wish he was elsewhere. But, mindful of his task, he continued to surreptitiously observe the fellow in front of him. Known as 'the White' for his colour of preference on the roulette, the wizard Saruman was visiting Rivendell, and taking the opportunity to sample the gambling tables. Various tokens lay before him -a few rings, necklaces and other jewellery- showing his skill at the game. He held his cards in his hand, concealing them from any watcher.

Only one player still faced him. It was a hobbit, whose name Greenleaf vaguely remembered as Frodo Baggins, having been introduced to him at some tiresome drinks do a few nights before. Saruman was muttering something to the young hobbit, and Greenleaf casually moved closer to hear.

"A ring in your possession," the wizard was saying, "which I would be greatly interested in."

"I don't know," Frodo replied, fingering his cards nervously, "it was given to me by my uncle."

"I would be willing to pay a fair price for it," Saruman said, then leaned forward and whispered something into the other's ear. The hobbit's eyes widened considerably.

"I suppose I could let you see it," he said slowly, his greed awakening, "but I'd still have to ask Uncle Bilbo."

"Of course," Saruman said charmingly, "but we shall finish our game first, yes?"

Their game continued. Cards were picked up, then discarded or kept, neither face revealing any emotion either way. Finally, just when Greenleaf was beginning to feel tired, Saruman placed his hand on the table in a deliberate movement.

"Tirith Flush," he declared.

"Two pairs," Frodo admitted, laying his cards down also. He pushed a fine- looking bottle of ale across the table. "Good game."

They left the hall after this and headed towards the hobbit's room. Greenleaf followed, being careful not to be seen by either. His feet made no sound on the stone floor, but he could follow the noise of the wizard's and the hobbit's. Reaching behind his back, he pulled out his bow, a Mirkwood 58 Special, specifically designed for concealment. Its easy weight in his hand reassured him as he sneaked along the corridor and up the stairs.

The unlikely pair was just entering Frodo's room as Greenleaf peered round the corner. Slipping out of the nearby window, he climbed round the building, toes on the narrow ledge. Thankfully there was little wind, and Greenleaf's skills enabled him to perform the feat with little difficulty. He soon stood balanced outside Frodo's window, watching as the hobbit pulled a small box out of his bag. Greenleaf could see Saruman's face as the ring was revealed. The wizard's expression became almost hungry and he reached for the ring eagerly, his face creasing into a leer.

Frodo stood back warily, holding the box closer to his chest. Saruman lunged forward, hands outstretched. The hobbit stumbled backwards, falling to the floor. Saruman grasped at the box, but leapt back as an arrow whistled past his head, pulling away a piece of beard. He pulled out his staff as Greenleaf jumped down from the windowsill, nocking another arrow on his string. No emotion showed, much akin to the earlier card game, though with deadlier stakes. Neither would back down, each silently daring the other to move first.

Frodo chose this moment to try and run, scrambling to his feet. Saruman charged forwards, grabbing at the hobbit with his large hands. Greenleaf let go his arrow, firing it at the wizard. It flew straight and landed solidly in his shoulder. Growling in pain, Saruman lifted his staff and fired off a bolt. It shot out of the staff and hit Greenleaf, sending him sprawling into the wall. He slumped to the floor.

Gritting his teeth, he squinted through narrowed eyes as Saruman grabbed the box from Frodo's hands. The Elf found that his body wouldn't obey his command to move, and he could only watch helplessly as the wizard left the room laughing. Fighting the feeling hard, Greenleaf managed to first twitch a finger, and then move the rest of him. Shaking his arms and legs out, he pulled himself up. He staggered over to the window and heaved himself down the ivy, trying to regain his usual Elven agility. He leapt across into a tree and crouched there for a moment.

Hearing the sound of approaching hoof beats a moment later, he looked out to see Saruman heading along the track on a pale grey horse. Waiting his opportunity, Greenleaf held back until the wizard was directly beneath him. He then jumped from the tree to land on the back of the horse. He wrapped his arms round Saruman, trying to pull him from the horse. They struggled, Saruman clawing at Greenleaf's face in a desperate attempt. The horse reared at the unexpected activity on his back, tossing both fighters to the ground.

A kick to Saruman's side left him breathless, allowing Greenleaf to pin him down and hunt in his pockets for the box containing the ring. The wizard struggled beneath the Elf, making the search harder, but at last his fingers closed around the hard lines and corners of the box. A smile crossed his lips as he pulled it out, clutching it in his deceptively slender hand.

Unfortunately, his grip loosened as he did so, a lapse that Saruman didn't miss. Lashing out with his staff, he caught the Elf unawares, throwing him violently off the wizard and impacting on his ribs. In an instant their positions were reversed, Saruman on top of the Elf, weight pressing down. His hand grasped at Greenleaf's, trying to force him to relinquish the box. He ground his fingers viciously against the bones.

The Elf grimaced as Saruman's hand threatened to crush his wrist. He bucked his body up and twisted, pushing the wizard away, but still couldn't pull away from the hand on his wrist. He reached for one of the fine Mirkwood blades strapped to his back, but in doing so failed to notice the wizard's staff raising behind him. It crashed down hard on the back of his head.

He was dimly aware of the box being removed from his now limp hand, and painfully aware of the savage kick to his ribs as Saruman walked away and whistled for his horse. The chuckle of the wizard came to his ears and was the last thing he knew. He blacked out.