Chapter 43: Idiots
Nervously I kept my grin up as they stared at me.
Murphy was the first to approach, studying my face as I took in the features that defined my friend: wide nose, a snaggle tooth, and kind black eyes on a dark face. "Van der Zee? Where are we? Where have you been? It's been nearly a year since you went missing!" he demanded.
"A year?" I parroted, frowning at him, "It's been close to six years here."
Martin and York exchanged frowns. "Something about this ain't right," the former said.
"Well it's obviously van der Zee, with the nose and everything," York reasoned, waving a hand at me.
Self-consciously I touched my poor, mutilated nose.
"But if she's missing, and now she's here, did she get here, or did we go there?" Martin questioned.
I sighed and wished that anything about my situation made sense.
The new guy, Guerra according to his nametag, snapped his fingers. "That's who you remind me of, that princess they dug up in New Mexico!" he exclaimed.
That was a place to start, I decided. "These days they call it Gondor and it's it's own sovereign country," I told him, wishing very much that the stone under me would swallow me whole, "And I look like that princess because she's not a princess, she's me. My DNA, dental work, broken bones, and all. I'm sorry guys, but you're stuck in the past and we're on the verge of an enormous battle."
"You think she needs the padded room again, or this time it's us?" York asked casually.
My ears rang sharply and I winced; phantom restraints cut into my wrists and ankles.
Guerra frowned, looking from them to me and back. "Guys?" he called.
"I've been hoping the whole time that I was knocked out in the humvee and have been dreaming all this," Murphy admitted.
"Sorry mate, no dice," I told him, smiling grimly, "Come on, let's introduce you to King Theoden." I waved for them to follow me and started walking up the cobblestone path.
At my side Iodocus frowned, occasionally looking over his shoulder at the strange men who followed us. "Friends?" he asked cautiously.
"Yeah, really old friends," I answered, smile turning less grim as I thought of all my years with those three. And now all the years ahead, I thought, if our friendship survived their transition to Middle Earth.
"Guys, this is Iodocus," I introduced, "He's a friend and trading partner. Iodocus, the tall guy with the rat-like face is Martin-"
"Hey!" he protested.
I briefly grinned over my shoulder at him and winked. "Mr tall, red-haired and handsome is Sgt. York, my superior officer when I was in the Marines," I continued, "The short black guy is Murphy and-" I then said to Guerra, "Sorry but I don't think we've met."
"Diego Guerra," he replied with a tight smile, "I've heard more about you than I care to say." He raised an eyebrow at York and Murphy, who glared back.
My heart physically warmed a little. "Good to meet you, I'm Cass van der Zee," I introduced myself as I squeezed past a cart of potatoes that was being unloaded, "I wish it was under better circumstances!"
Politely he nodded but his eyes were everywhere. Examining every little detail, from the stonework to the clothing people around him wore and the guards who strolled the parapets high above.
"Right, so to summarize things," I said, wondering how in the world I was going to pull this off, "You're in a country called Rohan which is currently at war with a wizard that made the hardest to kill monsters I've seen since the Kandahar Giant and is sending ten thousand of those things to commit genocide. It's our job to stop them." I paused and then added, "Well, my job. You can help if you want."
"Wizard?" York asked incredulously.
"Monsters?" Guerra scoffed.
"Genocide?" Murphy hissed, much more seriously.
I nodded solemnly. "This is basically the middle ages except add wizards, elves, dwarves, and adorable little people called hobbits," I summarized, "We're currently in a two front war with an evil wizard and Lucifer, who I assure you is real and is named Sauron. He's an enormous dick- well technically he's a giant flaming eyeball on top of a tower in his land of darkness, but he still manages to be the second biggest catheter in this whole place after the wizard Saruman, who sent the army we're about to kill. Any questions?"
Embarrassed, York asked, "Where's the bathroom?"
Oh. The one question I wasn't prepared for, naturally. Thankfully there was a guard nearby who offered to escort him there.
"Once he's done, can you bring him to the king's chambers?" I requested.
"Of course, my Lady," the guard answered and gestured for York to follow him. They disappeared at a quick clip among the flurry of people and items littering the narrow streets.
"My Lady?" Martin quoted, then teased, "Somebody's moved up in the world."
I scoffed out a laugh. "I suppose we should probably get to that before we arrive in front of the king," I said, "Part of my family is in the fortress. My sister Andy married King Theoden's only son and once it's Theodred's turn on the throne, she'll be queen of this whole place." I still couldn't quite believe that, even years later.
Guerra at least looked impressed as well as incredulous.
"Also the sweaty, dirty guy who rode in with you guys is the heir to the throne of Gondor down south of us," I added, delighting in their deepening incredulity, "And after we reestablished Tharbad across the mountains, my aunt became queen. So she's Queen Elizabeth the First of the Kingdom of Tharbad. Fancy, huh?"
"At least we won't go hungry," Murphy said cheerfully, "Though I really don't hold with this monarchy stuff."
I shrugged. "Eh, big stuff like going to war or altering the trade route has to come for a vote and we can vote her out. It's the closest thing to democracy that exists around here, but thankfully King Theoden is fine and Lord Denethor- well, we don't get along at all but he seems to have a good handle on Gondor. Reforms can wait until we're not struggling in a war for our very existence." I had quite a list of things for Aragorn to look at, once he had an idea of what a king of Gondor did.
"What's this about fighting the Devil himself?" Guerra asked warily.
"Way longer story than we currently have time for and I don't even know all of it. Aragorn is a fantastic storyteller if you can find two seconds when he's not being overworked," I answered as we ascended the stairs to the great hall, "Legolas is also pretty good."
Though the rude guard's lips went thin, he said nothing when I opened the doors. Only watched the parade of strangers like an eagle.
At the other end of the hall an intense conversation cut off as everyone looked up.
Aunt Libby gasped and clapped her hands to her mouth.
Boromir looked from her to me and raised a brow. "More friends?" he asked, almost teased.
"Mhm," I confirmed, smiling as I realized that we had been granted opportunities with their arrival, "Auntie, Boromir, Aragorn, King Theoden, and Lord Erkenbrand," I said, gesturing to each as we paced up the hall toward them, "I am proud to introduce my teammates from home, Andrew Murphy and William Martin, and their teammate Diego Guerra. York will be here soon."
"Ma'am. Sirs," Martin greeted them with uncharacteristic seriousness. Or maybe being introduced to royalty just does that.
I summoned the guard from the corner. "Can you get Andy, Mackey, and my sister Electra? You'll know her by her fire-red hair," I requested.
He glanced at King Theoden, who nodded. "Yes, my Lady," the guard agreed and hurried to the exit.
"Electra is going to want to hug at least one of those there guns you're carrying," I said in a poor imitation of York's Tennessee drawl, "Let's see what ya got."
Martin gave me the most derisive look I've seen since Rivendell. Still, he began unloading himself of what was basically a jacket made of guns and set his pack down on a bench. "That reminds me, I've got something for you," he said and began unzipping his bag.
"It's not a knuckle sandwich, is it?" I asked dryly, because that would be just like him to punch me for putting them through a year of worrying. He sort of deserved a swing, I thought.
Instead he offered me a rectangular black pleather case I knew very well. The breath caught in my throat.
"You're giving up your lucky charm?" Guerra chuckled, "After all that screaming?"
The tops of Martin's ears went pink.
"My glasses?" I asked with a laugh as I opened the case to reveal the most precious of objects: a pair of despicably ugly glasses. "My spare glasses are your lucky charm?" I teased, touched in a way I wasn't sure I'd experienced before. A year of me being missing, and he still carried them?
If Martin replied, I didn't hear. I was too busy unfolding my glasses and placing the now-unfamiliar weight on my nose, then guiding the slightly hooked ends over my ears. "What do you think?" I asked Aunt Libby, grinning as I realized I could actually see down the hall behind her.
"Those glasses are still so ugly," she chuckled.
"They call them birth control glasses for a reason," I joked.
"Not that that's a problem for you anymore," Aunt Libby sassed, eyes going pointedly between me and Boromir.
I scoffed. "Anyways, it may not be much but we've got four more men and I can finally show you some modern razzle dazzle," I said to the men of Middle Earth, playing up my showmanship as I picked up one of the many guns now littering the table, "The M27 Infantry Automatic, best for mid-range fights, decent at spray and pray, but if needed, danger is 3600 meters from the end of the barrel." I tapped the magazine and nodded to myself when I heard the slight rattle of ammo.
"AK-47, the most widespread gun in the world, responsible for hundreds of thousands of deaths and so tough that it'll still work even if you leave it in a bog for a decade," I continued to list, and then added, "If you're confused, it means that these weapons have twice the range of a bow and arrow, and can fire faster and more accurately."
"Unfortunately ammunition is limited," Guerra put in apologetically, "We just took samples from the cache we found."
Aunt Libby waved it off. "Anything is better than nothing," she stated.
"Pistols," I said, picking one up. Then I picked up an old snub-nosed bulldog and labeled it a revolver as I spun the full cylinder. "And last but not least, my favorite," I declared and carefully selected a piece with sand-weathered olive paint, "Grenades."
That spooked Aragorn and Boromir more than the other items put together and they eyed the grenade in my hand like it would explode any minute. "Are you sure those are a good idea?" Boromir asked, frowning.
"If we toss them over the walls, say, at any siege ladders they have, nobody will be able to throw them back. That's about as safe as it gets with these little beauties," I assured him, "As long as this pin here is still in, it's neutral. If the pin isn't in, throw yourself on the ground, cover your head, and pray." And don't pull the same stupid stuff I did, I added silently as my ears rang.
Grimly Aragorn nodded. "Can you put them away?" he requested, still eyeing the grenades in particular distrustfully.
"Sure thing," I told them, "Don't want any accidents." I wiggled the grenade from side to side before I finally handed it to Martin.
Once it was away, Boromir and Aragorn seemed to relax a bit.
The doors opened but it was only York, asking, "What did I miss and why aren't there any actual toilets around here?"
"Because they haven't been invented yet," I replied, sighing as I wished that the rest of Middle Earth would catch on, "Tharbad has Roman style disposal, but otherwise it's chamber pots and moss. Anyway, everyone, this is my former superior officer, Sgt. Alvin York the Second."
Here was the moment of truth, I thought, and took a deeper breath than usual when I introduced, "You've met Aragorn. This lovely lady is my Aunt Libby, officially Queen Elizabeth, and this is King Theoden whose fortress we're standing in, and Lord Erkenbrand."
To each of them York dipped his head respectfully, a much better statesman than the rest of us rabble.
"And this is Lord Boromir of Gondor," I said, suddenly breathless as I gestured to him, "Lord Denethor's son... and my husband." I tried smiling but everyone with eyes could see my nerves.
Murphy's jaw dropped. Guerra's eyebrows flew up his face. Martin smiled tightly.
"I wish we could meet under better circumstances, Boromir," York told him sincerely and offered a hand.
Expecting the usual wrist grip, Boromir very awkwardly got his hand shaken. "I wish so as well," he replied, "Cass mentions you and your team often."
"If your intel is right, you'll see what we're made of before long," York put in, grinning darkly.
That brought sly smiles and smirks to all of us Americans.
The doors opened again, admitting Electra and the twins. "You rang?" Electra asked sarcastically. Then her eyes caught up with her and she whistled an impressed little tune at my squad. "Well well well, is this fresh meat I see?" she purred and winked at Guerra.
He looked taken aback, which made her laugh.
"Guys, these are my sisters Electra, Andy, and Mackey. Sis, you can read their name tags," I said shortly before I picked up an M27 to hand to Andy, "Happy Christmas, courtesy of the fresh meat over there."
Her face went blank with shock before she squealed. "Just what I wanted!" she told me, giggling gleefully. Then she hugged me in an awkward gun sandwich, all fingers and fastenings carefully away from the safety and trigger.
"Erm, pardon, but are they trained?" York asked sensibly as they began to chatter like hens while handling the various dangerous weapons.
"Green Beret sniper," I said, pointing at Electra, who was so happy that she wasn't even insulted, "Navy gunner," Andy was looking through the unattached scope, "Air Force pararescue," Mackey was checking an AK-74's magazine, "And Air Force pilot," I finished, thrusting a thumb over my shoulder at where Aunt Libby was talking to King Theoden again, "Nobody else here has ever seen a gun before though."
"More for the rest of us," Martin said cheerfully, then struggled with a yawn.
Yeah, I was beat too.
Suddenly Andy was a hostess, assuring her father in law that, "I can take them somewhere to rest for a bit," and chivvying us all down the hallway behind the great hall with our arms full of weapons. "This is yours and Boromir's room," she said and opened the door to a small windowless room that nonetheless had a nice bed, "Most of the stuff should go in there; people would be less likely to run into your room than your friends' I think."
The various modern weapons were carefully laid on the floor well away from the door and the bed, not counting sidearms. With satisfaction I took one of the pistols to slide onto my belt, comforted by the not-so-familiar-anymore weight.
Meanwhile there was some bitching to be done about sleeping arrangements before anyone could get a nap. While Murphy and Guerra were quick to claim the room assigned to Legolas and Gimli (with two beds), York and Martin were stuck with Aragorn's room and its single bed. They then made everyone listen to their argument about who got what side, then more arguing about who was at fault for their last bout of sleep-cuddling.
"For the love of Eru, who fucking cares! It's the middle ages!" I shouted, exasperated as their argument then ventured into who was more gay, "Everybody kisses everybody during meaningful times!"
"How very Soviet," York observed.
I rolled my eyes and joked, "Besides, the gayest person in this castle is obviously Murphy, with me and Electra tying for second."
Beside me, Murphy huffed. "Thanks for outing me," he muttered.
I swivelled my head so fast in his direction that I cricked my neck. "Wait, you really are gay?" I just had to ask as I rubbed my neck.
"As Peter Pan on ice skates," Murphy confirmed, unimpressed with my lack of insight, "And now that I can say it, I think I might have died in that humvee explosion and gone to heaven, 'cause it's raining men." He grinned and winked at me.
Andy and I just had to look at each other and burst out, "It's raining men! Hallelujah, it's raining men! Amen!" then collapse into giggles.
Guerra muffled a laugh.
"Well, I mean, if I wasn't married, I'd have to agree," Andy said mischievously, "It really is raining gorgeous men around here. But we can gossip after you wake up." She then proceeded to plump the pillows, giving my bickering friends a withering look as she did.
"Right. So either grow up, or somebody's sleeping on the floor," I told them, "Good night for now." I then left them to their arguing and closed the door on them.
That went decently, I thought as I went to look for Aragorn. While they could be much more professional, my old friends at least had the foresight to not start throwing hands. Pretty decent for what all they've been through today.
My own gratitude for their presence troubled me. There was no returning them home, to their own families and their other friends who need them and will miss them; people who will never know what happened to their loved ones. But we desperately needed good news and extra men, and these were people I trusted to have my back any day. Plus Guerra, who would probably join that list soon.
Would they be angry when they realized that they couldn't ever return? Probably. Would our friendship survive? That was much less certain.
No, don't focus on that now, I told myself and rolled my shoulders. There was a sharp crack, making me wince. I need a nice, restful nap, I told myself, after I see to El Capitan.
He was easily found in the great hall, embroiled in tactical discussions with the other leaders. I was tempted to join a much happier Legolas and Gimli in the peanut gallery but the tourniquet around Aragorn's arm called to me. The second he wasn't talking, I cleared my throat for his attention.
Wearily he turned his head, only to close his eyes with impatience when confronted by my pleasant smile. "Yes, I know, this is important," I said before he could get a word out, "But so is seeing to your injuries after you fell off a cliff. Savvy?"
Aragorn looked ready to argue, but then he looked in the corner at where Legolas stood.
"If you do not cooperate, I may have to drug you," the elf teased.
Smiling, Aragorn shook his head and shed his long leather overcoat. "No, my friend, is it my turn to drug you," he countered.
"No, I'm sure it's my turn," Legolas insisted, then laughed.
Some of the tension lifted and Aunt Libby giggled.
Suddenly Aragorn stopped in the middle of removing his tunic, face going a bit pink. "If you do not mind, my Lady?" he asked politely.
"Oh, I don't mind at all," she told him, eyes sparkling delightedly, "Please continue." She then giggled again before very obviously turning to face King Theoden and Lord Erkenbrand.
I smacked myself. "Is it me or is the entire universe attracted to you?" I muttered to Aragorn as I pestered him out of his tunic, then undershirt.
Thankfully, he didn't try answering. Just hissed when fabric stuck to dried blood, sometimes dislodging a scab.
"If you don't already have an infection, it's a miracle," I said, then clucked at him and asked for Legolas to bring me something to clean up with. In the meanwhile I made a disapproving noise with each new scab and cut I discovered, some disguised by the horrid bruises that littered Aragorn's torso.
I then pressed on his ribs, only to glare at him when he flinched away with a hiss. "You tried getting away with a broken rib?" I demanded.
"He has a habit of trying to not be seen for injuries," Legolas said, unimpressed as he delivered a bowl of water and a linen.
The two friends glared at each other a moment, then broke into smiles.
I just wetted the linen, sighed, and got to work on my mess of a friend.