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Chapter 13 - Falling
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Rúmil made a hard impact as he was tossed casually to the ground. Every inch of his body hurt, and he was tired, so tired.
'Elbereth, make it stop, saes, just make it stop.'
"Forgive me, Rúmil, just give me a moment to locate what… ah, I think it's over there."
Callin let loose a bark of delight and towering over the warrior, again began dragging the elf by his feet, moving toward something in the dark. With a wide grin, he lifted the dazed elf roughly off the ground, trying to steady the warrior.
However, Rúmil's legs refused to support him, forcing him to lean against the man to remain upright, and he turned his head away as Callin's foul breath brushed against the skin of his cheek. Grabbing his chin, Callin forced the elf's gaze upward.
"Comfortable?"
Releasing Rúmil's chin, Callin began to trace the smooth contours of elf's face with his fingers, carefully skirting the small cuts and bruises. Rúmil tried to lift his arms to push the man away, but they would do nothing but lay limply at his side.
"I've heard it said that love and hate are very similar emotions, Rúmil." Callin's finger moved to trace the bow of the elf's upper lip as he spoke thoughtfully. "If you wish it, I would let you stay with me. I would protect you, let no other touch you."
Even in his vulnerable state, Rúmil could not help but roll his eyes wearily at his tormentor. 'He cannot be serious,' Rúmil thought. He would seek succor from Sauron himself before he would willingly spend one more minute with or waste one more breath on this man.
Callin did not seem to notice Rúmil's sarcastic look, so entranced was he, nor did he hear his brother's approach and jumped, almost dropping the elf, as the sound of Daris' furious shouts pierced the darkness.
"Damn it all to the blistering fires of Mount Doom! Why will he not just go away? We can get no peace at all!"
Turning back to the elf, he placed an almost loving kiss on a soft cheek, letting his thumb linger on the supple lips. He was going to miss this creature and wondered how difficult it would be to get another one; if the trap worked once, it should work again. There were many pleasures yet to discover, and he would need an elf to enjoy them fully. However, next time, he would make sure that Daris was not within a hundred leagues of him or his elf.
Callin heaved a heavy sigh, and said, "I wanted to explore my feelings more thoroughly, but because of my brother's constant meddling, it seems we will never get the time we need." Rúmil looked warily at the man as he backed away slightly, supporting him with just one arm.
Holding the unsteady elf tightly, Callin tilted his head to the side and watched, mesmerized. The elf's emotions, usually so tightly controlled, were now quite easy to read, and he grinned malevolently when those wondrous eyes expressed relief at the fast approach of his brother.
"Callin! Release him!"
Whispering to himself, Callin said, "I guess I will have to settle for hate."
Callin twisted around, turning his grin on Daris, waiting for him to come just a little closer. Daris was just a few yards away when Callin's grin widened, and he calmly said, "Whatever you say, brother," and loosed his grip on faltering elf, allowing him to fall.
"Oh, Gods, NO!"
Daris rushed forward in a futile attempt to stop the elf's fall but it was hopeless. Reaching the edge of the pit, Daris fell down flat onto his belly, straining his vision in the moonlight. The fallen elf lay at the bottom, and he would have looked as if he were sleeping, if not for the crimson spikes that pierced his still body. Daris just lay there, numb.
'We are dead, all of us.'
It would not matter that he and his men had nothing to do with the capture and death of the elf. The association alone was enough to damn them.
'And we probably deserve it. No, I deserve it.'
In the back of his mind, he knew that Callin would hunt those woods; he knew it.
'Why didn't I stop him?'
Then the realization hit him. The reason that he had not stopped his brother was because he had hoped that the Elves would teach him a lesson, some discipline, somehow cure him of his recklessness. He had practically pushed his brother into it by just giving him the warning to stay away because as any reckless child, he is drawn to fire, to what is forbidden.
'And what of the elf? What of Rúmil?'
Picked by chance, he had been forced to teach that lesson, a lesson that he himself had not the backbone to teach. Rúmil was innocent in this, and he had sent Callin to him willingly.
Rúmil was of the Firstborn, the wisest and fairest of Arda. A death such as this was not meant for him. No, if death was to come to an elf, it was to be in battle, a hero's death to be lamented and honored by their kin, not in bottom of a dark pit, alone.
Daris felt the bitter sting of tears over the utter waste of the beautiful immortal's life, and he wished desperately that he had been given a chance to know him better, that he had been given the chance to call him friend.
Daris spoke a silent prayer for the fallen elf; one that he was sure would not do him justice, and with one last mournful look, stood to face his brother. His voice unnaturally calm, he said, "You are such a fool. The Elves vengeance will be harsh."
Callin let out a giddy, nervous laugh, but Daris continued to speak, "From this point on, we part company. I no longer recognize you as brother."
Callin's eyes grew wide at this. Yes, he had acted rashly and it had spiraled out of control, but his brother had always covered for him, had always rescued him from his own stupidity.
Daris dropped his eyes from those of his brother, and said, "Make haste away from this place, for I suspect that once the truth is known, you will not be gracing Arda with your odious presence for long."
Daris began walking away, determined never set eyes on his brother again. Callin took a couple of steps in the direction of his quickly retreating brother, trying to figure out what to say to clear the way between them. This was not the way that things were supposed to be. He was the one to despise Daris; it was not supposed to be the other way around. What he said next caused Daris to stop in his tracks.
"But it was just an elf! And how will anyone know? Help me pull it from the pit. We can bury the body… hide it or burn it! We will simply deny any knowledge of its whereabouts."
'He said it again,' Daris thought, 'He said IT!' His brother still did not understand what he had done.
Daris spun around and briskly walked back toward his brother, actually causing Callin to stumble backward in fear. Grabbing the man's arm, Daris dragged him over to the edge of the pit, and grasping him tightly by the back of the neck, he forced his brother's gaze downward.
"He was not an IT! Rúmil! Rúmil was his name, and he was a living, breathing being! You callously and hatefully destroyed that life and for what! Because of some petty annoyance? You brought it upon yourself! You could have moved on!"
Daris released his brother, wiping his hands against his breeches as if trying to remove some unseen filth, and backing away a step, snarled contemptuously, "Or was it because of your desire to sink to the level of slave trader, just a meager step above rapist, for there are few lower -- except for murderer of course. Which, I am loath to say, you now are."
Callin looked at the body in the pit, listening to his brother's words but twisted their intended meaning. "Killing an elf isn't murder, at least among our kind it's not. And anyway, won't it be reborn or something?"
Callin cocked his head toward his brother expecting a calm, matter-of-fact answer. He had heard of such things happening. When the only response he received was the bewildered expression on his brother's face, he jerked away.
"Again I say -- how will anyone find out?"
Daris just stared in wonder. His brother was truly lost to him. Unable to look at Callin anymore, he turned away to gaze sorrowfully into the pit and with a tilt of his head and a hand to his heart, gave a final gesture of respect to the fallen elf.
Daris sighed loudly, and said, "If by some miracle his kin do not manage to track you down, which is highly unlikely, I will most gladly supply the information they require to find you and mete out the justice you deserve."
Now it was Callin's turn to stare in stunned silence.
'You choose an insignificant elf over your own blood?' he thought snidely. His mind balked at the betrayal, and his face took on a look of loathing. His brother was indeed weak, a weak betrayer.
Lips curling into a sneer, he said, "Well, brother, if your choice is the elf over me, then so be it. By all means, join the elf."
Daris did not have time to absorb the meaning of his brother's words before Callin rushed him, knocking him off balance. He teetered on the edge of the pit, arms flailing, desperately seeking purchase. In a moment that seemed to last an eternity, the brothers looked at one another; one silently pleading for rescue as the other conveyed a hatred-filled farewell. Callin stood transfixed as Daris' silent plea shifted into the one of finality and regret, and then he was gone.
It was not until the deed was done that the enormity of it hit Callin. He had gone way passed killing an elf. He had just killed a man, his own brother; that was definitely considered murder among his kind.
He paced nervously around the pit.
'Maybe he's not dead,' he thought hopefully, and he dropped down to his knees, calling his brother's name.
"Daris! Daris?!"
However, there was to be no reply. Tears made their way down Callin's cheeks as his brother's vacant gaze met his. They were not tears of remorse but tears of fear. He grabbed the sides of his head with his hands and shook himself violently.
'This is the elf's doing. It taunted me. Taunted me and manipulated his soft heart.'
Callin angrily began kicking small piles of debris and dirt onto the elf's body while yelling into the black maw.
"If you hadn't toyed with my traps, none of this would have happened! You're the killer here -- NOT ME! YOU. SON. OF. AN. ORC!"
Callin collapsed onto his back, staring up at the stars, a whispered mantra pouring from his lips.
"It was the elf's doing."
"It was the elf's doing."
"It was the elf's doing."
He said it over and over, and as he did, it somehow became real to him -- it became the truth.
"It was the elf's doing. It killed Daris."
Sitting up, Callin cast a gloomy look into the pit, and speaking to his now dead brother, said, "I'm sorry, brother, but if they come looking for you, it must be clear what happened."
He pulled Rúmil's daggers from his boots, taking a few moments to admire the exceptional artisanship. The ivory handles had an inlay of what he thought was mithril in a leaf and vine design that twined around the hilt and onto the blade. They were well balanced, neither too heavy nor too light, perfect, and they were probably very valuable.
His covetous nature actually made him unsure if he wanted to part with them. After a thoughtful moment, he tucked one of the daggers back into his boot, and then facing the pit, he whipped the other dagger downward and deep into Daris' body.
"Farewell, my brother."
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It was hours later before Callin returned to camp, and only Daris' men remained around the campfire. Having decided that the exclusion of unnecessary details would limit any questions or undeserved accusations, he created a simple tale to tell and prepared for the inevitable when he stepped into the bright circle of light.
"Where's Daris?"
Callin stood before them coolly, his face a mask of combined truth and remorse.
"When Daris released the elf, it ran, and we gave chase. The elf, in its weakened condition, could not go far unaided but would not return with us to camp. I offered to accompany it home, but it refused my help, with good reason I suppose, and Daris feared for my safety if I should meet up with its kin."
They all watched as Callin circled the camp while speaking in a flat, calm voice, collecting his things on the way.
"You all know Daris well. He would not let the elf return home alone without an escort, and unlike my company, his it does not seem to abhor."
Callin glanced toward the river, his eyes following the trail his men had been forced to take earlier.
"He bade me to tell you to continue on home with the horses, and he would join you within a fortnight."
Callin slung his gear over his shoulder and turned his back to his audience nonchalantly. The men gave each other questioning looks but did not speak. Callin had no reason to lie, and they did know Daris well. While his abrupt departure was uncharacteristic, his reasons were not. Escorting the elf home was something that would be expected of Daris' kind and caring nature.
"I must now join my men. I wish you all a swift and safe journey," and with that, he walked away.
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~* To Be Continued *~
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