Protect & Serve LotR-Lord of the Rings Fanfiction - Fan Fiction -WattyAwards2012

Chapter 3: Campfire Stories

I started back towards the newly lit campfire. It was in roughly the same area where I had—woken?—or I guess found myself in. The other man by the fire, I suppose if I was buying into this whole Fellowship thing—and God help me, but I was—that would make him Boromir, was turning my vest over in his hands and examining it. I veered my path for his side of the fire.

"What do you think it is, Pip? It sure is heavy."

"Not sure, Merry. It's just metal isn't it? Not even sharp."

My eyes darted down at the two hobbits as I was walking behind them towards Boromir. One of the hobbits was shaking something much too large for his hands. My eyes widened in recognition and I swooped down over them to snatch my Glock away from the one now trying to hand it to the other.

"Jesus H Christ," I swore. "This isn't a toy! It's a weapon. A very dangerous one," I yelled at the hobbits.

They immediately shrunk away from me to huddle by the other hobbits.

I wasn't sure where my Glock had come from, but remembered that I'd still been holding the pistol when I'd been shot. I had probably dropped it on the ground when I was imitating a fish out of water trying to breathe.

I knew by the weight that it was still loaded and remembered that I hadn't even fired a shot at the warehouse. Once assured that the gun was undamaged and still unfired, I replaced it in my hip holster, thanking my lucky stars that they hadn't managed to accidentally fire the thing. I also took the time to put my .40 back in my ankle holster.

I looked up at the puzzled—and in the case of the hobbits, scared—expressions of everyone. "I'm sorry for yelling and scaring you guys," I apologized to the hobbits. "That's a very dangerous weapon where I'm from."

"And just where is it that you hail from, my lady?" Boromir curiously asked.

I jerked my head towards Aragorn. "I already told him, but I'll say it again. It's just Lane. Not 'lady' anything." I ran my left hand over my head and through the wisps of hair that had pulled out of my ponytail. "I live—lived, in Chicago. But I doubt that any of you have heard of that city."

Their blank stares were answer enough.

"Well shit," I muttered to myself.

Boromir's brow furrowed as he frowned. "Must you use such oaths? I may not recognize many of your words, but I recognize your tone. It is not befitting of a woman, whether you wish to be called a lady or not."

A feather could have knocked me over. A soldier dressing me down for my language? Who'd have thought? Marines had never been known for our sophistication. "I apologize," I sputtered. "Guess I've spent too many years as a Marine and then working with cops."

A puzzled look filled Boromir's face. "'Marine?'" he repeated, the word twisting funnily in his mouth.

I paused, trying to figure out how best to explain what a Marine was. I finally settled for simplicity. "Marines are part of a branch of my people's military. I was a soldier, I guess you'd say." The word tasted sour in my mouth. A Marine was a Marine. We weren't the Army to call ourselves soldiers, but it was easier to keep things simple for now.

Boromir looked skeptical. "You were a soldier?"

"What's a cop?" one of the hobbits added.

I could already see the whole "female soldier" shock setting in, so I decided to cut it off quick. "Yes, a soldier. My people learned that women can be just as deadly, if not deadlier," I answered with a grin. "Being in the military isn't for most women, I'll grant you, but we never forbid them from proving their worth in the ranks." Discourage, dissuade, and downright make it difficult as hell, but not forbid. Not anymore at least.