Quick warning, this chapter is the final battle, so it's going to get quite gory.
Chapter 37: The Power of the Steel
Her eyes were dry by the next morning. Quinn had no room for grief anymore. She felt grim and hardened, and whatever the equivalent of hungover would be for someone who didn't need to sleep and couldn't drink.
Maybe this was how ancient warriors were supposed to feel.
The Black Gate stood silent and imposing as the army approached. It was more or less what she had envisioned before, lined with massive steel plates that resembled teeth and battlements that rose to wicked points of black metal.
They paused at the crest of the hill. Beyond was a wide, barren plain scattered with loose rocks that resembled sun-bleached bones. There was no movement anywhere on the gate. Even the wind seemed to have fallen still.
"Did they not get the memo?" Quinn muttered. If they had to wait another day or two for the other army to get here, she was going to be pissed.
Aragorn nudged his horse forward, Boromir and a bannerman flanking him. Gandalf followed with Pippin seated in front of him, Éomer with Merry on the saddle behind him, and Legolas and Gimli on a third mount. Quinn exchanged a solemn glance with Toven before the two of them rode ahead to join the party.
The gate loomed above them as they drew near, like the snarling mouth of some enormous beast. Quinn shot a glance over her shoulder and cursed softly. Their army looked minuscule from this distance.
"Let the Lord of the Black Land come forth!" Aragorn shouted. "Let justice be done upon him!"
Quinn gripped her reins so tightly the leather creaked. Would Sauron himself come face them? She'd only seen him once before, back in Dol Guldur. How exactly were you supposed to fight a flaming eyeball that could probably kill you with bad vibes alone?
The gate clanged and swung outwards with a deep, metallic growl. Quinn put a hand on her sword, but the two massive doors only opened wide enough to let a single rider through.
It wasn't a man. If it had been once, it definitely wasn't now. The…thing wore a spiked metal helm that covered most of its face, only exposing the most disgusting mouth she'd ever seen. Slimy, cracked skin framed an unnaturally wide mouth filled with long, bloodied teeth.
"My master Sauron the Great bids thee welcome," the thing said in a deep, unpleasant voice, its lips moving unnaturally quickly. Quinn decided to look anywhere else. "Is there any in this rout with authority to treat with me?"
"We do not come to treat with Sauron, faithless and accursed," Gandalf said. "Tell your master this—the armies of Mordor must disband. He is to depart these lands, never to return."
Gandalf's still trying to go the diplomacy route, huh? Quinn wasn't sure why they were still talking to this personified blowjob from hell. She'd rather feed the thing its own teeth and get on to kicking the rest of the army's ass.
The emissary sneered. "Old Graybeard. I have a token I was bidden to show thee."
Quinn had a snarky comment on the tip of her tongue, but it vanished as the thing held up something white and glistening.
Frodo's mithril shirt.
Her ears started to ring.
The creature chuckled lowly and tossed the shirt to Gandalf.
"Frodo," Pippin gasped. "No!"
"The halfling was dear to thee, I see," the creature sneered. "Know that he suffered greatly at the hands of his host. Who would've thought one so small could endure so much pain? And he did, Gandalf. He did."
Quinn's vision narrowed to the creature's wretched face. Her hand tightened around her sword, knuckles popping with the movement.
Aragorn was faster. He trotted towards the creature, his back straight.
"And who is this? Isildur's heir?" Its head followed his movements. "It takes more to make a king than a broken elvish blade."
Aragorn's arm moved. His sword sang through the air and cut the creature's head clean from its shoulders. Pure rage contorted his face as the head toppled to the ground.
He turned to them, gray eyes flashing. "I do not believe it. I will not."
Vaguely, Quinn realized she was shaking. Her vision was riveted on the growing pool of blood soaking into the dry earth.
I'm going to kill them. I'm going to kill every last one of them.
It was the only thought she could form until Toven put a hand on her arm.
"That thing said halfling," he said. "Just one."
"Yeah," she replied, her voice sounding muffled to her own ears. "So?"
"If they'd captured anyone, it would have been two. Do you think there's anything in this world that would have separated Frodo and Sam?"
"We don't know what happened. We can't just make assumptions."
"Right," he said, and the steel in his gaze managed to ground her.
"Right," she repeated, and clasped his arm in return. "Whatever, happened, we're doing this."
The gate creaked again, and widened to reveal the mass that lay beyond. Thousands of armored orcs advanced on them, the thunder of their footsteps rising above the groaning of the metal.
"Pull back," Aragorn called to them. "Pull back!"
They turned their horses and galloped towards the waiting host of men. A red light glinted off their armor, and Quinn glanced over her shoulder.
Within the widening maw of the gate burned a light at the top of a distant tower. Even though it was miles away, she could feel its burn on her skin and an overwhelming sense of malice. She knew the plan had been to draw Sauron's attention to them, but that didn't make it any less uncomfortable.
The soldiers shifted uneasily at the sight of the massive force and the flaming beacon. The ones in front took a few steps back.
"Hold your ground!" Aragorn cried. "Sons of Gondor, of Rohan, my brothers! I see in your eyes the same fear that would take the heart of me. A day may come when the courage of men fails, when we forsake our friends and break all bonds of fellowship. But it is not this day."
Quinn dismounted and joined Toven and the others at the front of their ranks.
"There may come an hour of wolves and shattered shields when the age of men comes crashing down—but it is not this day. This day we fight! By all that you hold dear on this good earth, I bid you stand, men of the West!"
Aragorn drew his sword, and his blade gleamed, not with the menacing fire of Sauron's presence, but with a pure brilliance like a fallen star. A chorus of scraping followed as the rest of the army drew their weapons.
Quinn held up her own blade. The sky was blocked by dusty gray clouds today, and for now her sword was nothing more than a piece of metal.
That was fine. She knew how to kill with a piece of metal.
More orcs began pouring out of the gate, streaming to the sides with their waving black banners. She already knew there would be more than enough to surround them completely.
With her free hand, she reached over and squeezed Toven's shoulder. "Whatever happens, I got your back."
He nodded, his eyes trained on the orcs. "And I have yours."
Aragorn joined them as the orcs continued to flood through the gate. The remainder of the Fellowship exchanged glances that were half-assurance, half-goodbye. A bittersweet smile lifted Aragorn's lips even as tears glistened in his eyes.
"For Frodo."
He charged forward, sword raised, and the rest of them followed. Adrenaline renewed itself in her veins, and Quinn let her powerful strides eat up the scorched earth between her and the orcs. Dry wind streamed into her hair. The clash of the armies was like thunder, roaring with the power of steel, and Quinn let her sword fall.
It took a few minutes before she remembered herself. She was surging through the orcs, cutting off heads and limbs with powerful blows. She would have made piles of their corpses. But this battle was about keeping her friends alive for as long as she possibly could.
Quinn retraced her steps, whirling to decapitate an orc and grabbing the head of another whose helmet had been knocked off. She pulled downwards as she thrust her knee up, and the front of the orc's skull shattered. It only took a few moments for her to find her friends in the confusion. She stepped beside Toven, protecting his left flank.
A haze of blood and dust filled the air, and through the steel and violence she could see the rest of her friends.
Aragorn, his sword shining like a white flame as he cut through the ranks of the enemy.
Legolas, his twin daggers whirling in rhythm with Gimli's axe.
Gandalf, moving with an agility that no longer surprised her.
Boromir and Éomer shielding their comrades in between powerful blows.
Merry and Pippin ducking and weaving through the enemy lines, swords flashing with a ferocity she'd never seen before.
Quinn blocked a sword before it could come down on Toven, then shoved it aside with her free hand and thrust her blade through the orc's neck. She pulled it out sideways and decapitated another orc in the same motion. Every orc that she downed was replaced by another, but she wasn't daunted.
She was already dead. She could do this forever.
A familiar shriek made her tense, and she glanced up to see a group of winged beasts silhouetted against the smoky sky. A cry of distress rose from the men—they had no archers, no way to defend themselves as the monsters descended.
Quinn bared her teeth. Bring it on.
She slashed the back of an orc's knee and thrust her sword through its chest as it fell. "Gimli!"
"Aye!"
She glanced up again. One of the beasts was nearly upon them, its claws outstretched. "Throw me up at that thing!"
Thankfully, he didn't question her. Legolas covered him as Gimli cupped his hands. She stepped into them, and then she was flying upwards, straight into the path of the beast. She held her sword up, perpendicular to her body, and thrust it into the gray flesh of the monster. She let gravity pull her down, leaving a deep gash straight down the creature's body. Blood and innards cascaded from the opening as the beast let out a strangled cry.
Quinn landed on one knee, and stepped back as the monster fell in a tangled, bloody heap. It looked like it had crushed a few orcs beneath it, and with any luck, its rider had gotten the same deal.
As she looked up to find her next target, a feathery shape caught her eye. A massive bird sunk its talons into another one of the beasts, twisting it off balance.
"The eagles!" Pippin's voice rose above the din. "The eagles are coming!"
That takes care of that. Quinn readied her sword—more orcs were already coming from either side of the massive carcass she'd taken down. The earth beneath her feet had turned to gory mud, and her boots squelched against it as she thrust her sword into an orc's stomach.
The rhythm of battle was in her veins, now. She parried and slashed and killed and did not tire. The wounds she received were of no consequence. Even as her friends began to falter with exhaustion, she pushed forward, giving them space to recover.
A thunderclap rent the air, and Quinn narrowly avoided the lightning-flash of a blade aimed at her throat. She took a step back and looked up at the towering figure in black armor.
"Oh, shit."
The Lieutenant struck at her again. "You are a coward to try to escape your fate."
She tried to parry the blow, but the force of it was enough to send shockwaves of pain up her arm. Quinn hissed in pain. "You know, now is really not a good time."
Her arm was still slightly numb, so she ducked beneath another horizontal slash. A scream of pain behind her made her freeze. A fresh pool of blood washed over the earth. She turned to see one of the Gondorian soldiers cut completely in half, hands grasping uselessly at his severed waist as his jaw stuttered in silent agony.
Horror skittered down her spine. With a cry, Quinn stepped around the Lieutenant's thrust and delivered a strike of her own. Their elbow slammed into the side of her face, forcing her to the ground. She turned her fall into a roll and pushed herself up behind him.
I need to get away from the men. She was caught in the turmoil between the front lines, and there was barely enough room to dodge, especially from such an enormous blade. But she'd rather have orcs at her back while she fought.
Quinn stepped to the side, deflecting another blow from the Lieutenant's sword. The tip of their blade sliced through an orc's face, and it howled as blood gushed from the wide slit in its nose.
If this fucker decided to go after the orcs instead of obsessing over this weird vendetta against Belekur, we'd have won the battle by now.
The Lieutenant came after her again, and their blades locked. They shoved backwards, sending her to the ground, and she rolled to the side as they tried to bring their boot down on her leg. An orc slashed at her back, and she grunted in pain. The orcs were surging behind her, and she had nowhere to go as the Lieutenant lunged.
Toven appeared from between two soldiers and brought his sword down on the Lieutenant's sword arm, deflecting their blow. They turned with a snarl, their blade locking against the guard of his and knocking it away. Toven reached for the dagger on his belt, but the Lieutenant was faster. Their fist slammed into his face, knocking him backward.
"Get away from him, you piece of shit!" Quinn lunged again and thrust her sword upwards. It sank into the flesh of their bicep, striking bone and making them cry out in pain. The Lieutenant whirled, cutting a deep gash into her thigh. She took the blow and came at them again. "You should've stayed beneath that pile of rocks!"
A wild fury was driving her now. She didn't let the wounds she took slow her down any more than the momentum of the blows she received. She hacked at any exposed piece of skin she could reach, pushing forward with sheer desperation.
The Lieutenant stepped back and did something she'd never seen before. They flipped their sword, gripping the end of the blade, and swung sideways. The guard cracked against her temple, and she saw stars. Ringing filled her ears as Quinn staggered to the side. The next thing she saw was the blade coming down at her, and she held her sword up in a desperate attempt to block the blow.
The impact forced her onto her back. With a desperate thrust, she managed to force the other sword to the side, and the blade pierced the ground next to her head. The Lieutenant let go of their sword and delivered a vicious kick to her forearm. Quinn screamed as the bone snapped and her sword clattered to the ground.
It wasn't the first time she'd had to fight using her other hand. She rolled to the side, trying to reach for her weapon, but a heavy boot planted itself on her shoulder, forcing her to the ground. The sword slid from the ground, so close to her ear she could hear the grating of soil against metal.
The Lieutenant brought their sword down into her chest, her ribs cracking under the force of the blow. A red haze filled her vision as a burst of pain erupted from her heart.
The next thing she could focus on was cold, steely eyes looking down at her.
"A true warrior would have met their death in a battle on the home world."
Quinn laughed, blood bubbling up with the sound. "I'm not even Belekur, y-you stupid idiot."
The Lieutenant pushed the sword deeper. "If you are an impostor, coward, you have still met your fate."
Anger sparked through the haze of pain, and her eyes widened. She wasn't finished here. She was going to find a way to beat this monster, and she was going to make it back to her friends.
"That…is not for you to decide!"
Gritting her teeth, she grabbed the guard of the sword with her free hand and pulled herself up the blade, closer to the Lieutenant's looming face. She spat a mouthful of blood right in their eyes, then grabbed their hair and headbutted them as hard as she could.
They stumbled back with a grunt, and Quinn fell painfully back to the ground. She fumbled to pull the rest of the blade out, but her hands slipped on the bloodied metal.
Seething, the Lieutenant twisted their sword and yanked it out of the ground. A long red streak followed it like the first stroke of a painter's brush. Quinn grunted as hot liquid filled her mouth. That's a lot of blood, she thought dizzily.
The Lieutenant knelt on top of her, pressing hard on the hole in her chest. Their free hand clamped around her throat with bone-crushing force.
The world spun as pain overtook her senses. Quinn thought she saw an eagle flitting across the sky, though it just as easily might have been one of the black spots spiraling through her vision.
The Lieutenant's voice broke through her consciousness. "Your end will mean nothing." The sword loomed like a dark viper as they raised it for the killing blow.
There was a flash of metal like a lightning strike, shining so fiercely it made Quinn flinch. She opened her eyes to see an armored limb topple to the ground, the sword falling from its limp grasp. With a howl, the Lieutenant tilted to the side as if thrown off balance. Blood spurted from the stump below their shoulder.
Toven stood just behind them, his armor blood-spattered and his eyes gleaming with vengeance. He raised his weapon for a backhanded strike, and his sword flashed through the air. The Lieutenant's head toppled off their shoulders and struck the ground with a dull thud.
Quinn tried to push herself up, but she was overcome with a wave of dizziness that sent her back to the ground. A moment later, Toven's face appeared in her vision.
"Quinn. Talk to me."
"I'm okay. A little fucked up," she said, her speech slightly slurred from the blood in her mouth. She tilted her head up so she could give him a once-over. There was blood running from his nose, and his gambeson was torn in several places, but none of the scratches looked too severe.
"We need to get you out of this mess." Toven gripped her shoulders, but before he could do anything, a piercing shriek echoed over the battlefield.
It was nothing like the Nazgûl's cry. This sounded infinitely deeper, echoing through her very bones, like the world itself was being shredded apart. The sound made everyone on the battlefield freeze.
A moment later, a ferocious cry went up from the men, and they surged forth.
"What's happening?" Quinn asked, trying in vain to push herself up.
"The orcs are scattering," Toven said, sounding breathless.
"Huh?"
"It's—the tower is crumbling. H-He's gone. Sauron is defeated."
Frodo. You crazy son of a bitch, you did it. A numbing relief washed over her. She didn't have the strength for a hug, so she reached for Toven's hand and squeezed it.
"It's over." The joy faded from his expression, and he looked down at her. "Mom?"
"I'm here." She held his hand tighter. "It's okay. You made it. You're okay."
Tears pricked her eyes, but they were happy ones. Her friends were safe. Her son had survived the battle. This was more than she could have hoped for a few hours ago.
"I…I don't want you to go." A tear slipped down his face and lingered at the tip of his nose.
"Yeah." A warm numbness was filling her body like euphoria. "You're gonna be okay, though. You are so brave and strong and smart…and sassy and a little stubborn at times, but what else could I expect from a kid who was raised by dwarves?"
He let out a stuttering laugh. "I-I owe you so much. I don't know—"
"You don't owe me a damn thing." She let go of his hand and cupped his cheek, taking in every detail of his face. "You deserve everything this world can give you, T. You don't have to fight anymore. You deserve a chance to be happy."
Toven nodded, another tear cutting a trail through the bloodied mark she'd left on his skin. "I'll stay with you."
"Okay." Vaguely, she could see soldiers moving around them, chasing off the remaining orcs and tending to the wounded. "You look after the others, yeah? Especially the hobbits. And…And tell Frodo I'm sorry I couldn't be there for him."
"I will."
She smiled weakly. "You remember that time I took you to the beach for your birthday?"
"And you got bitten by a crab." Toven sniffled. "I remember."
"God, I thought that crab was never going to let go." She choked out a laugh. That was one of her most treasured memories—lifting him up onto her shoulders as the waves crashed around them, drawing silly shapes in the sand, lighting a fire that night and watching the sparks mingle with the stars. "I probably should've taken you more than once, huh?"
"It's okay," he said softly.
Her hand flopped onto her chest. Her limbs felt numb and heavy. A white glow filled her vision, making her squint.
"I…I can see a light."
Toven glanced behind him. "I think that's just the sun. The clouds are clearing up."
"Oh." She shifted. There was a rock poking her back, and she hadn't noticed it until now. "Hey, did you ever get that talk with Faramir and Éowyn?"
"No. But I will, a-after."
"Good." She shifted again and groaned in pain as her chest protested. "I feel like I never got to really sit you down and have the talk, you know? About relationships and all that."
Toven blinked. "It's fine. I'll be able to figure it out."
"Okay, but just…five quick tips. Before I go. Humor me." She held up a finger. "Remember ABC. Always be communicating. Or consenting. You gotta be straight up."
"Quinn, you don't have to…"
"No, seriously. This is important. You need to put yourself out there, okay? Don't be afraid to find the people who love you." She patted his hand, clumsily. "Also, don't listen to what I said earlier. You can still ask Aragorn for relationship advice. He's definitely got the long distance thing covered."
"I'll be all right." He wiped a tear from his cheek with the back of his hand, smearing blood and dirt across his face. "You don't have to worry about me."
She tilted her head back. "God, this is taking a while." She smacked her lips. "Do you have any water? There is so much blood in my mouth, and it does not taste good."
Toven let out a watery laugh. "You really know how to ruin the mood, don't you?"
"Sorry, sorry. I didn't even come up with what I want my last words to be. Or who gets all my stuff. You can have my sword. Don't let Gimli have my armor, or he's going to dump it in an incinerator."
"Okay."
A few moments of silence passed. "You know what? I feel like my soul would've left the premises by now." She grit her teeth and tried to push herself up with her good hand, and Toven helped her into a sitting position. "I'm gonna keep going."
He searched her face, eyes wide. "Are you sure?"
"Yeah." She looked into his eyes and nodded. If she could keep herself on this plane of existence through sheer force of will, that was worth a try. "Still feeling a little off, but I think that might be the blood loss." She pressed a hand to the hole in her chest and felt a fresh trickle of blood leak out.
Toven leaned forward and wrapped his arms around her neck, and she held him tight.
It hit her then. She wasn't gone yet. Whatever magic was supposed to summon her back…it would have worked by now. The one person who might have taken her away was lying in three different pieces nearby.
Maybe things didn't have to end here.
Quinn looked up at Belekur's ghostly form, and for the first time saw uncertainty on their face.
Originally I was going to have the end of the chapter be Quinn "dying" and then reveal next time that she'd just passed out from blood loss. But I felt like that would be super mean and I kind of already pulled that trick in PTH so…instead y'all get the, uh, Deadpool 2 death. Anyway, I'm done traumatizing y'all so the next five chapters will mostly be fluff/recovery and then we'll be done. See you next time!
