Chapter 33: The Fury of Tyrant

Quinn tensed for a moment, then remembered she couldn't be mistaken for Belekur anymore. The crowd around her rippled nervously. One soldier stepped forward, his spear gripped in both hands.

"What business do you have in the White City, intruder?" he asked, barely keeping the tremor out of his voice.

The warrior looked down at him, one hand sliding towards their sword. "I have come for Belekur. Do not stand in my way."

Someone needed to diffuse the situation, and Quinn figured she was the most experienced one here when it came to ancient warriors (though that wasn't saying much). She pushed her way to the front of the crowd and raised a hand.

"Uh, excuse me? Are you one of Belekur's…comrades?" She jabbed a thumb over her shoulder. "They're in the city somewhere. I'm sure if you just hang tight we could get them up here."

She shivered a little as the warrior turned their gaze to her. That was a seriously intimidating glare.

Before she could offer them drinks or something, footsteps sounded from behind her, and she turned to see Belekur move through the crowd, which parted quickly to let them pass.

"I am here, Lieutenant."

The Lieutenant's lip curled slightly. "Decades you have been given in this world, and your task remains unfulfilled. Even now, you wear your shame in undeath."

Quinn winced. Most of that wasn't even Belekur's fault, but she kept her mouth shut.

"You are of no use to our cause," the Lieutenant continued. "You will face your judgement in the Citadel."

Belekur said nothing, but Quinn could imagine their expression was as stoic as ever as they stepped forward.

Another thunderclap sounded, followed by a flash that made everyone avert their eyes. When Quinn looked back, the two warriors had disappeared. It was as if they had never existed.

Belekur was gone.

"Well…" She blew out a sigh. "That just happened."

The crowd parted again as Aragorn and Boromir arrived, looking around for attackers. On their heels were Faramir and Toven.

"Are we under attack?" Boromir demanded.

"No, no, it's all good." Quinn held her hands out. "No one was hurt. It's fine."

"You saw what happened?" Aragorn asked.

Seeing that there was no danger, Boromir turned to the onlookers. "Back to your posts."

"Well, we lost Belekur," Quinn said as the four men gathered around her. "So I guess we could count that as a casualty. Another ancient warrior showed up, basically accused them of not doing their job, then took them out of here."

"We heard a noise like thunder," Boromir said.

"Yeah, that was them arriving and then leaving. Seriously, it's not that big of a deal."

Toven crossed his arms. "We just lost our ancient warrior."

"Well, let's put a big F in the chat for Belekur. Not like they were a huge asset in the first place. No wonder they're getting fired or executed or whatever," she said with a scowl. "Also, what are you doing out of bed? You need to be resting."

Ignoring his protests, she took him by the hand and pulled him back towards the Houses of Healing.

"I thought you'd be more upset about something like this," Toven said once they'd reached his room.

"It's not like we were friends." Quinn shut the door and leaned against it. "And yeah, maybe the reason they didn't get to do their job is because they didn't get the chance to, which is kind of my fault, but I'm not exactly going to be losing any sleep over this. If I could sleep."

Toven sat on the edge of the bed and frowned. "You're still angry over what happened during the battle."

"Of course I am! Belekur's known me long enough to understand that I would do anything for my family. They left you to die, which means they don't give a shit about me or any of the people I care about."

She tried to ignore the sting her words caused. She would have thought, after all they'd been through, that Belekur would have realized how much Toven meant to her, how it would break her if anything happened to him. But even if they had realized, it had done nothing to affect their decisions.

"I don't see why I should give a shit in return," she finished with a sigh.

Toven held up his hands in surrender. "I'm not going to argue with you."

"Sorry." Her shoulders sagged. "I'm a little stressed and sleep-deprived. I shouldn't have taken it out on you." She walked over to the beside table and picked up the empty cup resting there. "I'll go get you some more water. You need anything else?"

"Some pain medication, if you can find it."

"You got it." She gave him a quick, one-armed hug. "Sorry again."

"You don't have to apologize." Toven seemed like he wanted to say something else, but he only looked away.

Quinn pushed open to the door, and for the first time in almost eighty years, stepped into a Belekur-free world.


The next day, Toven ventured out of his room again and immediately made his way towards the cot where Éowyn was lying. Éomer was there, as usual, but his expression seemed lighter today, and his heart lifted at the sight.

He approached the dais and hesitated, but Éomer nodded for him to come closer. Éowyn appeared to have a little more color in her skin today, and her breathing seemed deeper and easier.

"Éowyn," Éomer prompted, and her eyes opened.

Toven couldn't help the grin that spread across his face as he sat beside the cot. "Hey."

Blinking drowsiness from her eyes, Éowyn turned to him, and an answering smile graced her own lips. "Toven."

"How are you feeling?"

"Better now that I know you are all right," Éowyn said. "Éomer told me you had survived the battle, but I am comforted to see it with my own eyes."

He laughed softly. "You were right about the helmet."

"Now you know to trust my wisdom," she said with a small smirk. "And I would like to hear the tale of how you fared in the battle."

"I think you have the better tale to tell. Quinn told me you slew a Nazgûl."

"I did. I will tell you about it when I am fully healed." Her expression fell. "The memory is…too near, right now."

Toven remembered she had lost her uncle in the battle. "Right. Of course." He wanted to reach out to her, but he became aware that Éomer was watching them. "I should let you rest. I'll, um, visit you later."

"Take care, Toven."

The sound of his name in her voice lingered at the back of his mind as he stood and made his way outside. His earlier relief spooled into a knot in his chest. He'd promised her they would talk after the battle, but the thought filled him with more anxiety than anything. He wasn't stupid—Éowyn was part of Rohan's royal family, and she would likely be expected to court someone for political reasons over romantic ones. There was that, and then there was the way most people saw him.

In a way, it was easier to think about the impending doom that awaited them to the east. With that, at least, he knew exactly what was expected of him.

"Toven."

He turned to see Éomer walking towards him, and he cursed inwardly at the strained expression on his face. Maybe he'll make the decision for me.

"Did you know Éowyn was planning to ride with the men?" Éomer asked, a deep furrow in his brow.

"I did," Toven said, trying to keep the wariness out of his voice. "I helped her do it."

Éomer stepped closer, and Toven realized how tall the other man really was. "She could have died," he said, his voice nearly a growl. "If she had perished in that battle, her blood would have been on your hands."

His words brought up a familiar lash of guilt, but Toven fought it down. Before he could respond, footsteps sounded behind him.

"Hey." Quinn inserted herself between the two of them, despite the fact that the top of her head barely cleared Éomer's chin, and pushed a hand against his chest. "You need to take a step back, buddy."

Toven put a hand on her shoulder, nudging her aside, and met Éomer's gaze. "You know your sister better than I do. You know she would have ridden into battle with or without my help. I wish more than anything that I'd been there to protect her. But it was her choice."

Éomer's eyes were hard. "You know nothing of the customs of my people. Next time you decide to interfere, I will not be so forgiving." He turned on his heel and walked back inside.

Quinn glared at his back, jaw twitching. "Next time he threatens you like that, I'm kicking his ass."

"You didn't have to step in like that," Toven said lowly. "I can handle myself."

"Sorry. Motherly instinct." She turned to face him. "You okay?"

"I'm fine." He looked away as a lump appeared in his throat. Éomer's words had stung more than expected. He'd hoped they could have been friends.

"Listen." Quinn walked in front of him and grasped his arms. "Nothing that happened during that battle was your fault, okay? If you start throwing around blame at yourself or anyone else, it's gonna drive you crazy."

He met her gaze. "But you still blame Belekur."

She blinked. "Well—that's different. That was…intentional negligence."

"I can tell this is bothering you, even if you think it isn't."

Quinn sighed. "It's only bothering me because you keep bringing it up. I haven't thought about Belekur at all today."

"If you say so."

"I say so." She spread her hands. "Anyway, I've come to the conclusion that nothing's going to get you to stay in bed short of me boarding up your door, so do you want to go get some food?"

He nodded. "Let's see if we can round up some of the others."

Maybe spending time with his old friends would ease some of his nerves.


Quinn felt her eyes sliding closed, and shook herself. She'd stopped for a moment and leaned against the battlements, telling herself she would just rest her eyes, but apparently that was a bad idea.

It was nighttime, and she was running out of things to keep her busy. Aragorn had kicked her out of the Houses of Healing for pestering the healers about small tasks she could do, and all of her friends were asleep except for Legolas, who had made himself scarce.

She sighed and resumed her pacing. She really did want to sleep, not just because she was dead tired, but because she needed a stop to her thoughts, which kept coming back to one thing.

Belekur was probably already dead, if dying was even a possibility for them at this point. Quinn guessed whatever punishment they were facing wasn't going to be a mild one—something told her ancient warriors didn't really believe in jail time or community service.

But it was her fault. She hadn't ended up here in an ancient warrior's body on purpose, but she had spent most of her eighty years in Middle-earth screwing around. It wasn't like she didn't care about protecting people, but Belekur was more experienced when it came to fighting wars. If they'd been in control, maybe they would be closer to winning right now.

"Shit." She ran her hands over her face. Toven had been right. This was bothering her, no matter how many times she reminded herself that Belekur wouldn't have given a second thought if their positions were reversed.

Combing her hair out of her face with her fingers, Quinn walked over to the spot on the grass where the two warriors had disappeared. The air smelled faintly like something burning, but other than that, there was no trace of them.

Even if she did acknowledge her guilt, what could she do about it? Find a way to travel worlds, end up in a war zone she knew nothing about, and try and rescue Belekur—if they even could be rescued? There was too much at stake here in Middle-earth, where they had their own war to win, for her to just abandon her friends.

Besides, she wasn't about to forget that Belekur had been willing to let Toven die. That alone was enough to even the score. And she would just have to live with that.

The next morning, she brought breakfast to Toven's room and ate with him, sitting cross-legged at the foot of his bed. He was quiet, picking at his food as his gaze remained fixed on a random spot on the bedsheets.

"Are you okay?" she asked. "Still upset about Éomer?"

Toven blinked and looked up. "There's more to it than that."

"Okay. Talk to me."

He was silent for a moment, focusing on peeling the crust off his bread. "Promise me you won't overreact."

"Wait…" She narrowed her eyes. "Do you have a thing for him?"

"What? No!" He shook his head, even as his cheeks flushed slightly.

She leaned closer. "You know I won't judge if you do."

"Now I don't want to tell you."

"Sorry. I won't overreact." She put her hands in her lap. "I am going to sit here and very neutrally listen to what you have to say."

Still, Toven hesitated. "Have you ever been in love? Or had feelings for someone?"

"Not really." She shrugged, tapping the rim of her cup. "Maybe I just never found the right person, or maybe it's just not my thing. Except my one true love, the Lady Galadriel…"

Toven snorted. "Maybe I'm better off asking Aragorn for advice."

"Hey, just remember." She raised an eyebrow. "Coaches don't play. Now, spit it out. Who's on your mind?"

"Éowyn," he said, the flush returning to his face. "We grew close after the feast. And I think she returns my feelings, but…"

"Oh, right." Quinn smacked her forehead. "I can't believe I forgot about that."

"Well, you were occupied."

She tilted her head. "So you're worried Éomer's gonna get in the way of you two."

"She's royalty," Toven said, his expression darkening. "Sister to the king, now. I know there are…expectations she has to follow."

Quinn sighed. "Well, I can't help you there. There's so many rules with what royalty can and can't do that I don't even bother keeping up with it. But I get the feeling that's not everything that's bothering you."

Toven swallowed, staring hard at the bedsheets. "I met Faramir yesterday, and I…I felt such a strong connection to him, even though we barely know each other. I feel so confused, and part of me wonders if I should even try to make sense of it. The war isn't over yet, and none of this is going to matter if we're all dead within the week."

"Listen." She scooted closer and took his hand. "It still matters. All these tiny little moments, everything that makes you happy, it all matters even if we do lose. It's what we're fighting for, yeah?" She gave him an encouraging smile. "I think you should talk it out with both of them. It's as much about what they want as what you want."

"That sounds absolutely terrifying."

"Oh, it is. God knows I can't talk about my own feelings. But maybe something good will come out of it." She nudged him, and he looked up. "You deserve that."

"Thank you," he said quietly. "And thank you for not overreacting."

She smirked. "Well, if something happens, it'll be a different story. But I think you should go for it."

"I'll think about it."

"Good." She leaned back. "By the way, you were right. The Belekur stuff is bothering me. I've been thinking about it all night."

Toven's expression cleared a little, and she guessed he was glad to not have to continue discussing his own predicament. "Are you going to go after them?"

"I don't even know if that's possible." She glanced out the narrow window, which didn't offer much of a view except a sliver of the pale sky. "And what if I never come back? I'd be risking my ass when there's still a war to be won here."

"You could ask Gandalf." Toven sat back against the headboard. "If there's nothing you can do, then that's the end of it. But I know you. I know you always make the right choice."

"That's not true."

"It is." He smiled slightly. "You're not smart, but you're good."

"I try." She took a deep breath. She couldn't really call Belekur a friend, and she didn't even know if ally was the right word. But something had bonded them together, and saving them, or trying to…it was the right thing to do. If she just let this go, it was going to bug her for the rest of her life, however long that was going to be. "If I go through with this, are you gonna be okay with that? I don't want to disappear on you again if you need me here."

"We've known this was going to happen for a while," Toven said, his voice trembling slightly. "No child gets to keep their parent forever. If you leave, I'll be all right."

A lump appeared in her throat, and she leaned forward to hug him. "I'm gonna stick around for as long as I can, okay? And we don't even know if I'll be leaving in the first place." She sat back on her heels. "I'll ask Gandalf about it. If he thinks there's a way for me to follow Belekur, I'll let you know."

Toven nodded, and Quinn climbed off the bed with a shaky sigh. As she left the room, doubt began to thread its way through her consciousness. Even if going after Belekur was the right thing to do, she didn't have anything to prove to anyone. Besides, staying here and protecting her friends was also the right thing to do.

Do you think rescuing the warrior will save you from me?

"Shut up, Goopy." She scowled. "No one invited you to be part of my thought process."

A few healers gave her strange looks, but she ignored them. It didn't take long to find Gandalf standing outside the main hall, and she jogged up the stairs towards him.

"I'm assuming you've heard what happened to Belekur," she said, skipping the preamble.

Gandalf glanced at her out of the corner of his eye. "I have. And it has also come to my attention that a strange fate has befallen you."

"Uh, yeah." Quinn looked down at herself, assuming he was talking about her new form. But that was a topic for another time. "Listen, I want to go after Belekur. I don't know how I'm going to get to their world, but I figured you might have an idea."

"I see." Gandalf set off down the steps, and Quinn fell into stride next to him. "Tell me, what do you plan to do once you have reached this other world?"

"I guess I'll find Belekur, make sure they're still…intact, and bring them back here."

Gandalf shot her a stern glance. "I do not know what they told you, but the world of the ancient warriors is almost entirely unknown to us, and most certainly dangerous. There is no telling what you will find when you arrive."

"I know. I know it's a crazy, stupid idea and there's not much of a chance I'll make it out alive, but…" She sighed. "I have to try, at least."

They reached the stretch of grass where the warriors had disappeared, and Gandalf stopped, the wind ruffling his white hair. After a moment, he said, "There is a trace of magic left here. I believe it would be possible to open another passage between worlds." His tone darkened. "But there is no guarantee you will end up in the right place."

Quinn raised her eyebrows, a sinking feeling appearing in her stomach. "So you can do it? You can send me there?"

"It would take but a few moments to prepare."

"Okay. I just have to take care of one thing, and then I'll be ready to go." She hesitated. "Actually, can I ask you something first?"

Gandalf gave her a slight nod.

"Do you think we need an ancient warrior to win this war?"

He turned his gaze to the barren white tree situated in the middle of the grass. "I have always been of the mind that true strength comes not from a sword or spear, but from bonds of love and acts of kindness." He looked back at her, and his expression softened. "And in that regard, I think you are a better aid to our cause than Belekur."

Quinn blinked at him for a minute. "Oh. I thought you were going to sandwich that with something mean, but…that was pretty nice. Thanks."

Gandalf waved his staff at her. "Go. There are other things I must attend to today."

"Sir." She saluted him and ran back towards the Houses of Healing.

Toven was still in his room, and he'd barely gotten a word out when she walked in before she was climbing on the bed and wrapping her arms around him.

His shoulders sagged as he hugged her back. "You're going, then?"

Quinn pulled back, forcing her eyes to remain dry. "I'm going to get Belekur, and then I'm coming back. Two deaths haven't stopped me, and you'd better believe some interdimensional travel isn't going to, either. My time isn't up until I say it's up."

He gave her a shaky smile. "Glad to hear you have the right attitude."

"I'm not gonna let you down." She looked into his eyes. "You hear me? I don't care whose ass I have to kick."

Toven nodded. "I'll come see you off."

They walked down to the grass together, where Gandalf was waiting. Nothing had visibly changed, but there was a tension swirling in the air, like the moment before a lightning strike. The hair on her arms stood up.

Toven reached for her and pulled her into another embrace. "I have faith in you," he said softly. "Just don't take too long, or we might have won the war by the time you come back."

"Less work for me to do." She pulled back with a smile. "I'll see you soon, T." She walked onto the grass and turned around. "Oh, and when I get back, you better have had that talk with your new friends."

He flushed and rolled his eyes.

"Are you sure you want to do this?" Gandalf asked.

"I am." She smirked. "Hey, maybe if you get lucky, you'll never have to see me again."

Gandalf grumbled something she couldn't quite catch as the wind began to pick up, blowing her hair into her eyes. He raised his staff and brought it down with a thunderous crack, and the world went dark.

Came up with Goopy's name in like 5 seconds, spent 2 hours trying to think of a name for the Lieutenant, eventually got lazy and decided not to give them one. But anyway...next chapter we'll be jumping right into Belekur's world! It's gonna be a title chapter, it's gonna get intense, and I'm really excited to share it with you all. Until next time!