The Captain's Rule
New recruits heard early about the Captain's ban on hunting for sport. An older Ranger would take each young man aside and tell how the Captain had once caught two of his men competing at shooting small, bright songbirds to settle which of them was the better marksman. His wrath, they said, had been memorable.
"Is it not enough that orcs despoil Ithilien? Must you also rob it of its beauties?" he had asked, white with fury. "You claim to oppose the Shadow, yet you slaughter harmless creatures for no better reason than to satisfy your pride!"
"Then what did he do?" the recruit would breathe, expecting perhaps to hear of whippings, or being sent in disgrace to Lord Denethor.
"He made them dig the birds a grave, and compose a lament for them, and sing it for the company."
"Was that all?" Disbelief would be plain.
The Ranger would shake his head. "'Twas not the punishment that stung; 'twas the look in his eyes. Trust me, lad, you do not wish to rouse his anger."
The recruit would look again at the Captain, imagine that sleeping strength awake and unyielding, and understand. And the Captain's rule was never broken.
Author's Note: Written for a challenge on the topic "Anger" at the FaramirFics community on Livejournal and inspired by Anborn's offhand comment in The Two Towers (book): "You will not have us slay wild beasts for no purpose." This is also my first-ever double drabble!