Chapter 35: The Warrior's Pride
His ears were ringing as Toven pushed himself into a sitting position. He looked again at the dark substance splattered across his hands, his tunic, the grass—then up at the cold-eyed warrior looking down at him.
"What did you do?" he asked, his voice barely more than a rasp. "What did you just do?"
Belekur flicked their sword to the side, shedding a few droplets of the thick substance. "I destroyed the monster."
Tears pricked his eyes. "Where is my mother?"
Belekur glanced to the side, though Toven couldn't tell what they were looking at. "Her soul is bound to mine once more."
He swallowed, then winced at the sharp pain in his throat. If Belekur was speaking the truth, then Quinn was still here…just without a physical form. The warrior would have no reason to lie, would they?
"What is this?"
Toven turned at the sound of Boromir's voice. He and the others that had attended the council—Gandalf, Aragorn, Gimli, Legolas, and Éomer—were striding out of the great hall towards them.
Boromir pulled Toven to his feet and stepped in front of him as the others took up positions beside them.
"Speak now, warrior," Gimli growled, fists clenched. "What makes you think you can attack one of our own?"
Belekur's gaze flickered over the group, sizing each of them up. None of them were armed, Toven noticed, but they were still willing to protect him.
"It's all right," he said, as loudly as could manage with his sore throat. "They didn't attack me."
Legolas's eyes fell to his neck, where bruises were no doubt forming. "Then who did?"
Toven shook his head, unsure how to even begin explaining what had happened. "A monster. Belekur took care of it. I'm fine."
Aragorn stepped forward, addressing the warrior. "Why have you returned to us?"
Belekur met his gaze coolly. "My oath remains unfulfilled. I am sworn to defeat the enemies within Mordor."
"Then you will ride with us tomorrow."
Tomorrow? Toven rubbed at his neck as Belekur gave a curt nod and limped away. Whatever they had spoken of during the council, he hadn't expected them to plan on leaving so soon.
The others turned to him, and he suppressed a sigh. Unlike Quinn, he would be expected to explain things in a way that actually made sense.
"Where is Quinn?" Boromir asked—softly, as though he feared the worst.
"She's…not gone," Toven said. "I know how to get her back, but I need some time."
"What does that mean, exactly?" Gimli asked. "You're talking like the wizard, now."
Gandalf narrowed his eyes slightly.
"Toven, you owe none of us an explanation at the moment," Aragorn said, holding a placating hand out towards Gimli. "You are injured."
"I will take him to a healer," Boromir said.
Toven shot Aragorn a grateful glance and allowed himself to be led away, towards the Houses of Healing. He still felt shaken up, but besides the fact that he'd nearly been strangled to death, things were better than they'd been this morning. Nothing had been certain after Quinn had left this world, but now that she was back, he had a little more control over helping her.
That was assuming, of course, that his plan didn't get him killed.
Quinn lurched through a darkened hallway, the fluorescent lights blinking above her. She wasn't sure where she was, or where she'd come from—it felt like a dream, where she couldn't quite take in everything that was around her.
She pressed her hands to her eyes. If this is a dream, then wake up. The one thing that was making itself all too clear was the insistence in the back of her skull that she was missing something.
A phantom pain jabbed at her chest. She gasped, clutching at the skin over her heart, and the scenery changed with a sickening lurch.
She was standing on a patch of grass, and towering above her was a hall of white stone. Her eyes immediately fell to the man sitting on the grass, his body splattered in dark ooze. He was shaking slightly, his breathing wheezy and uneven.
"Toven." She fell to her knees beside him. "Are you okay? What happened?" She tried to grasp his shoulders, but her hands passed right through him.
Shit. She glanced over her shoulder. Belekur was standing there, looking down at him.
"What did you do?" Toven rasped. "What did you just do?"
Belekur flicked the blood off their sword. "I destroyed the monster."
Quinn took another look at the ooze spattered on the ground. That was Goopy's remains, no doubt, but if she didn't remember her former body getting destroyed…
"Where is my mother?" Toven demanded, tears in his eyes.
"Tell him." Quinn looked up at Belekur, not bothering to keep the plea out of her voice. "Please tell him I'm okay."
Belekur barely gave her more than a glance, but they said, "Her soul is bound to mine once more."
Quinn reached out again, her hand hovering over Toven's cheek. She wished she could hold him, tell him everything was going to be okay. It terrified her that she had to sit here and just watch.
She relaxed slightly as she noticed the group coming out of the hall nearby—Boromir, Gandalf, Aragorn, Legolas, Gimli, and Éomer. Boromir helped Toven to his feet, and the others formed a defensive line in front of him.
"Speak now, warrior." Gimli glared at Belekur. "What makes you think you can attack one of our own?"
Quinn whirled around. "You didn't."
It didn't make any sense. Belekur went after monsters and villains, not innocent people. She didn't even want to consider that she'd done so much to save them and this was how they had repaid her.
"It's all right," Toven said hoarsely. "They didn't attack me."
Quinn noticed for the first time that there were dark bruises on his neck. Someone had tried to strangle him. But if it hadn't been Belekur, then…
She looked down at her hands. "Oh, fuck."
The realization was nearly enough to bring her to her knees. She'd been knocked out in the room with the portal. Goopy had taken control again, and had tried to kill Toven while wearing her face.
If she'd still had a body, her heart probably would have been pounding. She wanted nothing more than to tear apart that slimy bastard with her own hands, but Belekur had already taken care of that for her.
"You're a fucking idiot," she whispered to herself, pressing her hand to her mouth. If Belekur hadn't been there…
Pull yourself together. Toven was okay. This wasn't the time to fall apart over it, not when there were important questions she needed answered.
She looked up and saw that the ancient warrior was walking away, still limping but trying to hide it. She cast a worried glance at Toven, but she knew the others would take care of him for the time being. Steeling herself, she ran to catch up with Belekur.
"Tell me what happened after I blacked out," she said, falling into stride next to them.
"The stone brought us back to Middle-earth. The monster attacked the Ranger, and I killed it."
That was about the bare minimum when it came to details, but it confirmed what she had already feared. This was probably the first time she was grateful that Belekur had been there to do their job. As she thought about it more, she realized she probably owed them more than she'd thought. The enemy warriors must have busted into the portal room and knocked her out, but somehow Belekur had fought them off and…and brought her back themself.
She cleared her throat. "Look, I really owe you one. You saved Toven's life. I mean, you also left him to die a few days ago, so…I don't know. Maybe those two things cancel out."
Belekur said nothing.
Quinn fiddled with the hem of her ghostly t-shirt as they continued walking. Maybe she was just seeing what she wanted to see, but it seemed like Belekur had been more open with her during their escape. Not to mention she'd finally gotten a glimpse of their own world. It had been a long time since she'd tried to press them for answers, but this might be her chance.
"Can we talk about what happened back there, in your world?"
Belekur stopped at an empty section of the wall that encircled one of the upper levels, looking out over the scarred plains below.
Quinn decided not to take their silence as a rejection and pressed on. "Well, it was definitely close to what I was expecting. I ran into this big, ugly looking monster while I was trying to find you."
"Scavengers. They clear the battlefields."
"Makes sense, makes sense." She leaned against the wall, encouraged by a response. "What about all those bodies we saw inside the Citadels? Were those dead warriors?"
"No. They were new ones."
She blinked. "New ones, as in…you guys don't have children? You just come into the world all beefy and fully formed?"
"It would be a waste of time to protect and raise the young. I do not know how new warriors are made, but they are sufficient to replace our dead."
"Wow." That also made sense, given the brutal nature of their world. She wondered how it would feel, to just come to life after being grown in a test tube or something. "How do you wake 'em up?"
Belekur was silent for a moment. "There is no power we possess that can imbue life or the will to fight in new warriors. We must take that which already exists from the souls of those who have passed from life."
She raised an eyebrow. "So if you die, you get reincarnated as another warrior?"
"No."
Quinn thought back to the portal in the tower, how Belekur had mentioned that it connected to several different worlds. "You…You mean the souls of people who died in another world. People like me."
"Yes."
"Holy shit." She leaned against the wall with both hands. All those years ago, when she'd fallen from that skyscraper, she could have been sent somewhere else. She could have been downloaded into a manufactured warrior body and forced to fight in a war for the rest of her life. Another realization hit her, and she looked up. "That means you had a past life. Right?"
"I do not remember it," Belekur said, their tone growing harder. "And it does not concern me."
Quinn opened her mouth to press the subject, then let out a short sigh. Maybe, somewhere deep down, there was some ounce of humanity in the warrior standing next to her. But she had a feeling she'd only scratched the surface just now, and reaching that point would take a whole fucking excavation team.
Still, it was strange to think she could have been fighting alongside them in a different life.
"Do you think that's why we're stuck together?" she asked quietly. "I mean, I was on my way to being brainwashed into a ruthless soldier, you were on your way to save Middle-earth, and maybe we just…bumped into each other in the doorway."
Belekur didn't respond, and Quinn rolled her eyes, knowing what they were probably thinking. Even if both of them knew the cause for their situation, that didn't exactly change their current circumstances.
"Can I ask you one more thing? Since you're being so generous today?" She took their answering silence as assent, and continued. "Was I hurting you when I was doing my own thing?"
Belekur turned to her, eyes narrowed. "What?"
"I mean, I always assumed I was just majorly inconveniencing you, but…were you afraid, when that warrior brought you back and tried to kill you?"
"I fear nothing."
She sighed. "I know, you're so tough and nothing ever gets to you. But if it did bother you, I wouldn't judge you or shame you or anything. You know that, right? It's okay to be afraid."
"Your concern for others is a weakness that has only brought you suffering."
"Not only. I love my friends. They make me happy, and they make me a better person. And what about you? I've seen every scar you have. I know you suffer. And for what?"
Belekur turned back to the horizon, to the dark ridge of Mordor in the distance.
"Let's say we win this war, and you get the job done," Quinn said. "Let's say you have a choice of where you want to go afterwards. Let's say you don't get punished since I crushed your boss under a ton of rocks. What are you going to do then?"
"I will return to fight in the war."
"Is that what you want?" She tried to grab their arm, but her hand passed right through it. "If you don't know what you want, then you should take some time to figure it out. Do something for yourself for once."
She leaned her elbows on the stone and let silence overtake the wall. She was tired of trying to keep tallies on who owed who when it came to her messed up relationship with Belekur. Maybe they could continue on not caring and screwing each other over when the opportunity presented.
But she couldn't help but hope that they could go the other way, and maybe find a way to make this work.
Thunder growled in the distance.
Toven would have been grateful for some rain. None could escape the stench of rot permeating from the battlefield, despite efforts to burn and bury the dead, and perhaps some rain would wash the smell away.
He turned his gaze to the small package in his palm. It was wrapped several times over in leather and secured tightly with string. He'd had the foresight to slip it into his boot before the battle, and he was glad of it—all the rest of his things had been lost along with his horse. He'd carried it so far, hoping he'd never have to use it, and still he hesitated.
Footsteps made him look up. Aragorn was walking towards where he was sitting on the stairs leading to the great hall, his own cloth-wrapped package secured under one arm.
"How are you feeing?" Aragorn asked, sitting next to him.
Toven ran his fingers over his throat. It was still sore, and his voice hadn't completely lost its hoarseness. "Better than this morning." He glanced at the covered object Aragorn had set beside him. From its round shape, he could guess what was inside, but he held off on asking about it for the moment. "You said we're riding out tomorrow."
Aragorn nodded, his gaze dimming. "Frodo and Sam remain our only hope for Sauron's defeat. If they have made it into Mordor, thousands of orcs lie between them and Mount Doom."
Toven blew out a sigh. Thousands more… They'd survived two battles against enormous hordes of enemies, and it was beginning to feel as though they'd only scraped the top of the anthill away.
"We will draw Sauron's forces out of Mordor," Aragorn continued. "And give Frodo and Sam a chance to reach their goal."
"We don't have the numbers to take on a force that size."
"No," Aragorn said quietly. "But if Frodo destroys the Ring, then we will still have won the war."
The if hung heavy in the air. Toven swallowed with some difficulty. "Do you think Sauron will fall for it?"
"I intend to make sure that he does." Aragorn rested a hand on the package at his side. "I will reveal myself as Isildur's heir, descendant of the line he failed to vanquish all those years ago. He will have no choice but to meet my challenge."
Toven frowned. "The last time you touched that thing…"
"I was caught off guard. This time I will be prepared." Aragorn touched the sword at his hip.
A cool breeze swept over the city, rustling the bare branches of the white tree. Toven thumbed the edge of one of his bracers. "You're riding into battle as king, then?"
"I will only take the title of captain. If I claim the throne now, others might seek to challenge me, and the last thing we need is a distraction from the task at hand."
"Right." Toven didn't bother asking what he planned to do afterwards. The only future he could see was that Gondor would continue to be ruled by a Steward. If Boromir joined them in battle, then the title would pass on to Faramir. "You're not going to try and stop me from coming with you this time, are you?"
"I know now that it would be madness to do so," Aragorn said with a slight smile. "I would only ask you what you are planning to do with that." He nodded to the small package loosely clasped in Toven's hand.
Trepidation flooded through him once more. He turned the bundle over in his palm. "A contingency plan. I'm going to try and get Quinn back, but it's going to be risky. And Belekur would not be able to aid us in the battle."
"Belekur has not aided us for most of this journey. Do not let that concern you."
Toven nodded. If they were going to be facing the whole of Mordor's forces, one ancient warrior could hardly make a difference.
"It's getting late." He stood up. "I should just get it over with."
"I as well." Aragorn copied his movement.
"Well…here's to surviving the night." Toven embraced him briefly.
"Have courage, Toven." Aragorn squeezed his shoulder, and they parted ways.
The city felt eerily quiet as Toven made his way back to his room. He collected some bandages that he'd cut into thin strips earlier, then unwrapped the leather package. Inside was a sliver of metal, glinting dully with the light of the setting sun. He wrapped the bandages around his palm, then used another couple of strips to bind the metal to his left hand, parallel to his fingers. When his hand was open, the makeshift blade would be concealed, but in a fist the tip of it would protrude between two of his fingers.
Now he just had to hope he didn't accidentally stab himself.
Toven closed his eyes and took a deep breath. If tomorrow truly was the beginning of the end, then he had to get Quinn back. He had to try.
He left his room and wandered through the upper levels. It wasn't long before he found Belekur—the ancient warrior was hard to miss, after all. They were standing in one of the open-air hallways overlooking the city, their posture still and steady. Their head tilted slightly at his approach, and he hesitated.
He wasn't a particularly good liar. There hadn't been a need for it, living with dwarves and then Rangers. If Belekur caught wind of his deception, this would all be over before it had begun.
Have courage. He held Aragorn's words in his heart, then stepped closer to the warrior.
"Do you have a moment?"
Belekur turned to face him. He'd caught a few glimpses of them after the battle, but seeing them up close was entirely different. It was Quinn's face staring back at him, but with none of her kindness and humor. Somehow, he found it more disturbing than the doppelgänger that had tried to strangle him earlier that day.
When he realized Belekur was not going to speak, he forged on. "I-I didn't get the chance to thank you earlier." Sweat was beginning to soak into the bandages on his hand. "You saved my life."
Belekur looked him over, their lips pursing slightly as though they were about to speak, but remained silent.
"I don't know if you have come to an agreement with my mother," Toven continued, his voice growing steadier. "But I don't carry the same grudge for what happened during the battle. If we are going to be riding out tomorrow, then I would have us be allies." He held out his unbandaged hand and tried not to let it shake.
Belekur considered him for another moment, then gave a short, barely perceptible nod and turned away. A moment of panic enveloped him as the warrior began to walk away.
Fuck it. Toven closed his fist around the sliver of metal and darted forward. The tip of it grazed the bare skin of their bicep, and he was rewarded with a few droplets of blood.
Belekur moved faster than what should have been possible. The next thing he knew, he was stumbling against the wall, his cheek stinging from a brutal backhand. He fell to the ground and scrambled away, narrowly avoiding Belekur's hand as they tried to grab the front of his tunic.
"What is this?" Belekur snarled, one hand clasping the small wound. Their arm went limp, as though it was completely numb.
Toven staggered to his feet, his heart pounding so hard he could feel it in his throat. He was beginning to wish he'd brought his sword, though he didn't know how much that would have helped.
"It's nothing personal. I promise," he said, holding a hand out as if to ward off any more attacks.
Grimacing, Belekur advanced on him, then stumbled and fell. Toven took several more steps backwards, his hand clutching the dagger on his belt. Belekur didn't move.
He watched the body until it blurred in his vision. Please wake up. Please be there.
After the longest minute of his life, the body stirred again and rubbed its head. "Holy shit."
Relief weakened his knees. "Quinn?"
Quinn pushed her hair out of her face and stood up. Her face broke into that familiar grin. "Hey, you." She wrapped her arms around him, and he returned the embrace, careful to keep his left hand at his side. "How the hell did you do that?" she asked, pulling back.
"I've been planning this since Rivendell." Toven began unwinding the bandages on his hand. "When you told me about your contingency plan, I knew carrying the Morgul blade itself would be too obvious. I asked Lord Elrond to help me break a shard from it that I could carry it in secret." He gave a half-apologetic shrug. "I would have told you about it earlier, but then Belekur would have known, too."
Her mouth had fallen open, though she was still smiling. "You…are so freaking smart. I'm so proud of you."
Toven smiled, wrapping the bandages around the metal shard. "Well, that trick's only going to work once, so you'd better stay the way you are from now on."
"You don't have to worry about that. On my life, I am never going into any more creepy caves." She hugged him again, and he felt her head turn to the side, like she was looking at something. "Sorry. Like my genius son said, it's nothing personal."
His smile wavered as they broke apart. "So, you'll be riding out with us tomorrow."
"Tomorrow." Quinn blinked. "What's happening tomorrow?"
