The Fellowship had just set off from Rivendell, when they were forced to take the Pass of Caradhras. But as they were about to go up that fearful mountain, a girl appeared. Her name was Lorraine and she was not from Middle Earth. She had mid-length dark hair, and hazel eyes that even Legolas rivaled.

“Excuse me, good lady, but may I ask what you are doing on top of this stormy mountain?” asked Gandalf the Grey.

“Oh, goodness, are you Gandalf?” Lorraine said, letting out an exhilarated laugh from her pink lips that were glossy.

“I am, indeed, Gandalf the Grey. May I be of assistance?” Gandalf asked, startled.

“I am Lorraine and I have been sent here from another world to help you on your task of destroying the ring. I know all about you, every single one of you, but please don’t ask me how right now,” said Lorraine, wetting her lips.

“Well, how are you going to help us?” smirked Pippin.

“Don’t laugh at me, Pippin. I can help more than you can on this journey. I have a few guns, fully loaded and ready for action with any Orcs that may come into our path. Now, shall we set off?” Lorraine responded, tired of trivial questions.

So the Fellowship set off once more, trudging up the mountain. But Lorraine was wearing snow shoes, so she walked on the snow with ease.

“How are you walking on the snow? You are not an elf,” Legolas said confused.

“These are snow shoes. They enable one to walk on snow without trouble,” Lorraine responded, dashing to catch up with Aragorn.

Lorraine did not want to interfere with her precious book that, in her opinion, Saint Tolkien wrote, so she knew that Caradhras would defeat the group. It came as no shock when Frodo decided to go through the Mines of Moria.

A few days later, Lorraine stood watching Gandalf try every spell he knew to open the doors of Durin. She witnessed the doors open and explored Moria with her eyes. And when the great creature with tentacles grabbed Frodo, she pulled out her Magnum Research Hand Pistol and shot at its legs with an expert’s precision that left even mighty Legolas in awe. But not wanting to change the plot too much, she didn’t kill the beast, letting it survive to bring down the walls of Moria.

Lorraine was never fond of Legolas. She had envisioned him as a spoiled elven prince, too high and mighty to care for the lesser folk. So she was sharp and to the point with him. Except, that is, for when she entered Moria. You see, she was afraid now, of the upcoming battle and was whimpering silently in the corner as Gandalf, yet again, gathered his thought.

“What? Is the brave mysterious lady nervous?” Legolas asked.

“Well, if you ask, yes, I am very nervous of Moria. I grow wary of the thought of Orcs waiting in the dark, ready to shoot at me,” said Lorraine angrily.

“Oh, milady, I am very sorry. I didn’t think that you were scared. If it makes you feel any better, I too am nervous, as are the rest of us. In fact, Aragorn is downright scared and is complaining like a sissy. I won’t let anything hurt you, I promise,” Legolas assured Lorraine.

During those long nights, Lorraine’s opinion of Legolas slowly changed. She no longer thought of him as the stuffy Prince of Mirkwood, and her feelings were indescribable. Legolas’ opinions were changing of her as well. He had originally believed her to be a proud young lady who felt above the Fellowship. He now thought she was a sharp and witty lady who was braver than most of the group, as well as more beautiful than the Lady Arwen (he obviously didn’t confide in Aragorn).

“Legolas, where are you?” whispered Lorraine in the dark.

“I am here, Lady Lorraine,” he responded, grabbing her hand to assure her of his presence.

“You may call me Lori,” Lorraine spoke, “for Lorraine is such a mouthful.”

“Well, then, Lady Lori, are you ready for battle?” asked Legolas.

“I am indeed, with my guns loaded. Why would you ask?” Lori queried.

“Waiting in this room, lingering is making me grow wary of my surroundings. Something is coming. I can feel it,” breathed Legolas.

Legolas was right. A storm of Orcs, in tow with a cave troll, appeared and were slain by the Fellowship. Lorraine was ready and shot down many Orcs. She felt it a comforting thought that Legolas was watching her back, slaying those who came too near her. Soon the group was standing in a room littered with slain Orcs and the corpse of a cave troll. But the Ringbearer was injured.

“Frodo, can you hear me?” Lorraine breathed.

“Yes, it is okay, I’m not hurt. I’m fine!” exclaimed Frodo.

“Can I help you though?” asked a concerned Lorraine.

“You can help me. Go for Legolas. He is a very decent elf and he’s mad about you. The poor guy swoons over you and you’d make a jolly couple,” Frodo said forwardly.

After that sentence, the men came rushing over, ending the awkward conversation, but it left Lorraine thinking all night.

While walking in the dark, Legolas approached Lorraine.

“Lady Lori, might I speak with you?” asked Legolas.

“Of course, Legolas,” Lorraine smiled.

“Lorraine, I love you very much. I can’t explain my feelings as they are indescribable, but I want you to marry me. Will you, Lady Lorraine, marry me?” Legolas asked, bending on his knee.

“Oh my goodness! Yes, yes, yes, I will marry you!” exclaimed Lorraine breathily.

So Legolas took a ring off his finger and placed it on hers. But they were rudely interrupted by Orcs, scrambling to attack them. The happy couple ran after the Fellowship to face their next challenge.

To Be Continued…