Chapter 3: Shadows are Coming
"Yo, this place reeks."
Quinn dismounted her horse and led it through the front gate of Isengard. In the center of the circular yard stood the Saruman's tower, a spire of black stone with four sharp peaks at the top that looked like teeth.
In her opinion, designing a tower like that was basically announcing, Free villainous monologues inside! She knew Saruman wasn't exactly a chill guy, but he could've at least put up a couple decorations or something to make the place look more inviting.
The one saving grace had been the lush trees that had filled the space outside the tower. But they'd all been cut down since the last time she'd been here. Several pits had been dug across the barren land, and foul-smelling smoke was rising from a few of them. There were a few Dunlendings milling about as well, using ladders to climb in and out of the pits. They watched her with glinting eyes and she passed, and she ignored them.
Quinn walked beneath the shadow of the tower and, as her eyes adjusted, she noticed a pale man in black descending the steps to the front door.
"Greetings, warrior." He leaned forward in a very minimum-effort bow. "I will show you upstairs."
Guess Saruman got himself a PA. She gave a short nod and released the reins of her horse. The guy looked so pale she had to wonder if he was recently deceased—and that was coming from someone who had been dead for almost eighty years.
The man looked at her coldly, and disappeared through the doorway. Quinn glanced at a trio of Dunlendings nearby who were leering at her horse. She lifted two fingers to her eyes, then pointed them at the group.
With that out of the way, she took the stairs up and into the tower. The inside was of a similar design to the outside, all black stone with lattice windows to let the light in. The tower was narrow enough that there was only space for one room on each floor, and a set of stairs leading to the next. The first four floors were pretty empty, and Quinn wondered every time why Saruman didn't set up shop on the first floor so he didn't have to walk up all those stairs. The man in front of her was already out of breath, though he was clearly trying to hide it.
Eventually they reached the floor where she usually met with the wizard. Quinn pretended not to notice while Saruman's PA caught his breath. After a few moments, he gave another half-hearted bow and said, "Saruman will be with you shortly."
She gave him another short nod, and he descended the stairs. It still felt weird having to pretend to be someone else every time she came here, but she'd gotten a little more comfortable with it over time.
She frowned and took a couple steps forward. Saruman was nowhere to be seen—and the dude always stood out against the black decor in his white robes. He was usually sitting on the raised chair at the other end of the room, but at the moment it was empty.
There were two other doors besides the one she'd come through, and she tried to peer through each, but it was hard to see much behind the frosted glass. Quinn turned her attention to the pedestal in the center of the room.
"Okay, for twenty bucks…" She glanced at Belekur, who had appeared beside her. "What do you think is under that cloth?"
It was some sort of sphere, but it was covered by dark fabric, and Quinn had to try not to stare every time she visited. Saruman always acted like he didn't even know the thing was in the room.
"Maybe it's a control unit, and this tower can turn into a giant mech or a laser cannon or something." She pinched the cloth between two fingers and looked at Belekur again. After a moment, they nodded for her to take the cloth off.
Carefully, she lifted it, revealing what looked like a big black marble beneath.
"Okay, control unit theory's still on the table." Quinn reached out and touched it.
A low growl filled her ears, like a rush of fire. Bright orange flashed in her vision, flaring out in the shape of an eye with a slitted black pupil. Quinn leapt back, letting the cloth fall back into place.
"What the fuck was that?" she gasped, even though she already knew the answer. She'd seen that eye before, years ago, during the attack on Dol Guldur. "Was that Sauron?" She took a step forward. "Is he stuck in the marble?"
"That is a Palantír," Belekur said. "A Seeing-stone, used to communicate over long distances."
"Oh. Okay." She straightened. "It's a FaceTime marble. But does that mean…"
"The wizard has betrayed us. He has allied himself with Sauron."
"Are you kidding me? Fuck." She sucked in air through her teeth. "And I was definitely not supposed to see that." She reached out to adjust the cloth. "Does it look like I touched it?"
Before Belekur could respond, the door to the right swung open, and Saruman entered the room.
Quinn lowered her hands to her sides and cleared her throat. "It's been ten years since the last time you called me here. I assume you have a lead you want me to follow."
"Indeed." Saruman stopped on the other side of the pedestal, letting his staff rest on the floor with a small click. "The task I would give you may be the most decisive of them all." He paused. "And yet…my mind has been plagued with doubt as of late."
Yeah, we all got doubts, buddy. At least I'm not two-timing with an evil flaming eyeball. Quinn tried not to glare.
"I fear this world has softened you, perhaps weakened your resolve."
She stiffened. "What?"
Saruman grinned, though it looked more like a grimace on his narrow face. "I have eyes all over Middle-earth. And I do not only watch my enemies, but my allies as well."
Fuck. Quinn went completely still. Did that mean he knew about her friends—about Toven? What if he'd already sent people after them? If this sicko had switched sides without telling her, she had no idea what he was planning to do next.
She clenched her jaw and forced herself to calm down. She had to do whatever it took to make it out of here alive.
"Nothing would sway me from my purpose," she growled. "I was brought to this world to defeat Sauron, and I will not allow anything or anyone to stand in my way."
Saruman continued to watch her closely, his eyes glinting like black ice. "I have received word that the Nine have crossed the Fords of Isen. They are headed north in search of the Shire. I have long suspected that the bearer of the ring is hiding there."
Quinn narrowed her eyes slightly. It didn't make much sense to her that someone in the Shire of all places would have the One Ring, but a lead was a lead.
"Follow the Black Riders to the Shire, and they will lead you to the Ring. Bring it back to me to prove your loyalty. And then we will destroy Sauron together."
"The wizard means to betray you," Belekur said. "And he has outlived his purpose. Kill him now."
If her heart had still been beating, Quinn was sure it would have been going a mile a minute. She ignored the urge to grasp the hilt of her sword. "I have nothing to prove to you, wizard. I'll follow the Nine like you asked. And Sauron will fall."
She turned and left the room, feeling the wizard's piercing gaze on the back of her neck.
The pale man was waiting on the ground floor, and she swept by him without a word. The Dunlendings from before were gathered around her horse, but when they saw her they scattered. Quinn snatched up the reins and mounted, then set off at a trot down the path.
It wasn't until they were out the gate that Belekur spoke. "The wizard is preparing for war. He desires the ring so he himself can hold dominion over this land. If you allow him to live, it will be at the cost of other lives."
"I know that." Her grip tightened on the reins. "He is such an asshole. But what was I supposed to do, run up and cut off his head?"
"Wizards bleed as any other man."
"But he's not a man. I don't know what I'm up against. He could have…blown me to pieces with his wizard staff for all I know."
"You are afraid." The words came out as an accusation.
"Of fucking course I'm afraid. And it doesn't help when you project your suicidal tendencies on me." She turned to glare at them. "I have to look out for my son. I can't do that if I'm in twenty different pieces on the side of the tower wall."
"Saruman was right. Your attachments in this world have weakened your resolve."
"Doesn't matter. We're going with my plan. I'm going to find Gandalf and tell him what Saruman is planning. He should at least be able to tell me how to kill a wizard." She smiled to herself. "'Never pounce on an advantage as soon as it appears. Wait until it stands to have maximum effect.'"
The Isen came into view, and Quinn steered her mount towards the undulating water. She was going to have to move hard and fast to make it to the Shire.
"In the meantime, I say we go Nazgûl hunting. Maybe that'll cheer you up."
She spurred her horse to go faster. Her last showdown with the wraiths hadn't exactly gone in her favor, but she'd had decades to prepare between then and now.
And she wasn't going to let them hurt anyone else.
Quinn was in a terrible mood.
She'd reached the Shire, but she hadn't yet caught up to the Nazgûl. Either Saruman had given her outdated information, or the wraiths had the fastest horses in Middle-earth—either way, she had to catch them before they found the ring. She had no idea what would happen if they actually found it. She wasn't really in the mood to deal with a bunch of powered-up super-wraiths.
Night had fallen, and fog shrouded the forest. She kept the Brandywine River on her right, scanning the trees for any black-cloaked horsemen. It had been mostly a shot in the dark, tracking them across Eriador (especially since she couldn't track for shit), but here the hobbits would probably be able to point her in the right direction. It was pretty hard for anyone, much less creepy evil ghosts, to sneak by in a place like the Shire.
At least Bilbo doesn't have to deal with any of this shit. After the incident at his birthday party, he and Thorin had disappeared, but she'd run into them a few years later in Rivendell. Apparently Bilbo had wanted a change of scenery (and a dramatic exit) and Thorin was cool enough with elves to hang around too.
They were out of danger for the moment, but that didn't include her other friends. Quinn slowed her horse to a walk, chewing on the inside of her cheek. Who in the goddamn is keeping an evil ring in the Shire?
She paused and tilted her head. At first, she'd thought it was the wind, but now she recognized the distinct sound of breathing coming from the brush. She turned and scanned the forest, but even her enhanced senses couldn't pick anything out of the shadows.
"Who the hell is hiding there?" she called out. It probably wasn't the wraiths, but maybe whoever it was could give her something more to go on. "Come out and say hi."
"Quinn?" A head of curly hair emerged from the bushes.
"Frodo?" She watched him wade through the brush and onto the road, followed by Sam, Merry, and Pippin. "Wow, the gang's all here. What are you guys doing so far from Hobbiton?"
"We—We're trying to get to Bree."
"In the middle of the night?" Quinn searched their faces. All four of them were pale and out of breath. "Are you guys okay?"
Frodo glanced down either end of the road, then took a couple steps towards her horse. "Quinn, we're being followed. We need to make it to Bucklebury Ferry to try and lose them."
She stared at him as a sinking feeling appeared in her stomach. "Who's following you?"
"Horsemen, dressed in black. They nearly discovered us earlier today."
Quinn sat back in the saddle. "Motherfucking shit…" She turned back to Frodo. "You have it?"
"Have what?" Merry stepped forward. "Frodo, what's going on?"
Frodo glanced at him. "We're not safe here. We need to keep moving." He turned back to Quinn. "Will you help us?"
"Dude, you don't even have to ask." She looked at him for another moment, and he sent her a We'll talk about this later look. "I'd ask you to hop on, but I don't think all five of us would fit."
"The ferry isn't far from here," Merry said. "About half a mile."
Quinn motioned for the hobbits to start moving, and nudged her horse into a walk so she could keep pace with them. "When did the riders start following you?"
"Only today," Frodo replied. "Gandalf warned me that I should leave the Shire for my own safety. I'm supposed to meet him in Bree."
"Oh, good. I might come with you. I have some news for him, too."
Frodo sent her a curious glance, and she forced a smile. She didn't like keeping secrets from him, or knowing that he was keeping secrets from her.
"We'll talk once we get to Bree," she said. "You're right—it's not safe out here."
They traveled in tense silence. Every rustle or animal noise made Frodo tense and whip his head around. Merry and Pippin walked together near the horse's flank, whispering quietly to one another. Sam stayed close to Frodo, gripping the straps of his pack.
Quinn frowned as a cloud passed over the moon. "How far to the ferry, now? I don't—"
A bone-chilling shriek rent the air, making all of them jump.
"Jesus shit, I will never get used to that." Quinn made sure her sword was free in its sheath, then turned to the hobbits. "Make a run for it. I'll keep 'em busy."
The hobbits broke into a run, and Quinn spurred her horse into a gallop. It wasn't long before she spotted the rider coming down the path.
"Hey, dipshit!" The moonlight returned in full brightness. Quinn drew her sword and raised it to the light, then swung it in a wide arc towards the Nazgûl.
A beam of light struck the rider directly in the chest, and it dissipated with a hiss, leaving a tattered black cloak fluttering to the ground. Its black mount passed by harmlessly.
Quinn turned to see the hobbits running up the path, and they flinched away when the horse ran past.
"Come on!" To her right, she could see the glint of the river, and to the left were two shadows flitting between the trees.
She sent another beam of light towards the two riders. The energy cracked against the trees, leaving charred marks behind, and the Nazgûl screeched and veered away.
Not long afterwards, the ferry came into sight. It was only a wooden raft tied to a small dock. Quinn pulled her horse to a halt, scanning the woods as she waited for the hobbits to catch up. They passed her, breathing hard, and hurried towards the dock.
"Sam, get the rope!"
Frodo stopped and turned back to her. "Quinn?"
"Go!" She waved at him to move on. Another Nazgûl was barreling down the path towards the ferry. "I'll catch up with you later!"
She nudged her horse into a gallop and raised her sword, but another cloud had passed over the moon, and the blade remained dim.
"Okay, old-fashioned way it is." Quinn stood up, bracing both hands on the saddle. At the last second, she put both feet on the back of the saddle and launched herself off the horse. She collided with the rider at an angle, sending them both crashing to the ground. Her hands and knees sunk into the black fabric, and Quinn hissed through her teeth—it felt like she'd just submerged her skin in ice water.
She fumbled for her sword, which had landed on the ground nearby, and raised it high. It crossed a beam of moonlight, and white energy seared across the blade. The Nazgûl shrieked and reached for its own weapon. She stabbed downwards into the swirling black cloth, and the wraith dissipated with a hiss.
Quinn stood up and shook her hands to get some feeling back into them. The Nazgûl had a strange energy about them that she could only describe as a Bad Vibe, and it always left her feeling slightly shaken. She frowned at the wicked-looking blade lying in the grass. That was the one weapon she feared—if Belekur gained control again, she doubted she would ever get it back.
She rolled her shoulders and turned to the river. The dark shape of the hobbits crowded on the raft was visible on the glimmering water. They were safe for now, but she would have to head off the other two riders before they reached Bree.
Quinn looked around. "Epona?"
Her horse was nowhere to be seen, and the two riderless horses had disappeared as well.
"God dammit. That's the second horse this year." She reached down to pick up the Morgul blade and tossed it into the river. "Old-fashioned way it is, then."
She sheathed her sword and started jogging down the path.
I know it's funnier to have Quinn as a fumbling idiot, but I really enjoyed writing fights scenes where she gets little badass moments. And there's some pretty crazy fight scenes later on that I'm really looking forward to.
And just to be clear, last chapter took place during Bilbo's birthday party. This one is after the 17 year time jump between the party and the War of the Ring. Just wanted to make a note of this since some fics give the impression that these events happen within the same year. This also means Toven is an adult now, so I'm probably going to give him some POV sections when he shows up again.