(solo flashback story - private)
The Death of Ryn
Southern Ithilien
A couple of years before the War of the Ring
Ryndir Dringolben, with one of the
Androllius twins
Watching Androllius approach him with his knife in hand, Ryn realized it wasn’t just any knife. It was actually
made for making sacrifices, and it did not look Gondorian. Having grown up learning to craft weapons and other things of metal, he could tell some things at a glance. Androllius wasn’t joking or making up stories about doing sacrifices to Sauron… Ryn realized he was not simply going to die here, and that made it all the more horrifying.
Stopping once he stood over Ryn again, ‘Ric’ kicked his side, the same place where he had earlier stabbed him. Ryn’s cry was weaker now as he struggled even to take a breath, but apparently still satisfying to Androllius. He smiled as he watched Ryn curl up in pain, clutching his bleeding side. “Serves you right, for all the things you’ve done to me.. trying to steal Ric away from me.” He sneered, then crouched down beside Ryn, shoving him so he lay on his back again, rather than curled up.
Ryn was hardly listening; somewhere, nearby, a single bird cry could be heard. Ryn opened his eyes, trying to turn his head toward the sound, though he couldn’t answer it. But he knew that call. His mentor had come looking for him! Ryn had been gone too long, and Duinion had grown concerned. Thank Eru!
Ric’s twin paused, tilting his head as he noticed how Ryn had reacted to the sound. Frowning, he glanced in the direction where the young ranger had turned his gaze. They heard the birdcall again, a little closer now, then another from the left. A call on the right answered, and he cast his glance around the forest warily. “Rangers…” He realized, eyes widening. Cursing under his breath, the murderous young man stood and glanced around, listening carefully.
“Helllp…” Ryn groaned, as loud as he could manage, and with great difficulty.
Androllius cast a glare down at him, then decided not to take the risk. With another muttered curse, he pulled Ryn's armor aside and stabbed the ceremonial dagger into Ryn’s chest, closer to the center, and yanked it back out. “That ought to finish you,” He sighed, then glanced around, a bit worriedly, before hurrying away, apparently unwilling to confront any other rangers. He always was too chicken to face more than one opponent at a time, Ryn recalled vaguely, as he tried his best to cling to life a little while longer.
A moment passed. Silence filled the forest, and Ryn desperately clung on, feeling sure that his mentor would be there any second. Some part of his mind suggested that perhaps, if he got help in time, he could recover from these wounds. But he knew, deep down, that he was fading fast, and these wounds were too grievous to heal. He could taste blood in his mouth, choking him. It hurt to cough, but he couldn’t help but cough, weakly. A friend was coming… he just had to hang on a little longer.
Duinion Raedor, Ranger of Ithilien, with a small company
Ryn had been gone a little too long for Duinion’s liking. Having heard of some trouble with bandits lately, he had been against Ryn setting off alone to practice some things, though Ryn assured him he’d be alright. After he didn’t return for a while, however, the elder ranger thought it wouldn’t hurt to check on him, and set out after the boy. He came upon a few fellow rangers, who reported having recently run off a small group of bandits.
Hearing this news, Duinion hastened to find the young man he’d become close friends with. They had discovered that they were distantly related, actually; Duinion’s wife’s sister had been married to Ryn’s oldest brother, though he wasn’t sure what sort of relation that made them. He usually thought of Ryn as a younger cousin or some such thing.. perhaps a kid brother, even. With a handful of other rangers joining him, Duinion hastened onward to find his young friend.
Bird calls were a much safer than calling out his name, and he employed this means of trying to ‘call’ to Ryn, but without answer. Until, at last, he heard something. A groan? He glanced around, worried, and ventured forward. Still, no answer to his bird calls, aside from those of his fellow rangers. Not Ryn’s, and that worried him.
After a moment, one of his comrades called out, “Over here!” and Duinion hurried to find out what his fellow ranger had discovered. Catching up to the man, he frowned to see a bow leaned against a tree. Ryn’s pack rested beside it, along with his quiver. Duinion glanced down and found some tracks, following them a few paces.
He moved forward. Then, with his view no longer obstructed by the trees, he saw him. Duinion stopped, as did his heart, for a beat or two. “Ryn…” He cast a quick glance around to check for any obvious traps, then threw caution to the wind and rushed forward. He could see the boy struggling to breathe, and knew he was hurt, but he wasn’t sure how badly. Dropping to his knees beside him, Duinion’s stomach clenched into knots, seeing all the blood. “Ryn… can you hear me?” He tried to find where the wound was, desperate to try and stop the bleeding, but then he realized there were multiple wounds. He pressed his hand against the one with the most blood, trying to stop the bleeding.
“Nal..” Ryn muttered, coughing weakly, a trickle of blood making its way down from his mouth.
“No, it’s Duinion,” He correctly softly, feeling a bit choked up. He couldn’t do anything to help him, and it hurt to have to just sit by helplessly. Bandages would do little here, and it take too long to fetch a more skilled healer. Tears welled up in his eyes as Ryn stirred, reaching feebly for his arm, and grasped it.
“P-please, don’t..let Nal die,” He whispered. “Please.. Duinion.. s-see that he’s safe?”
Duinion swallowed past the lump in his throat. “Ryn.. I..”
“Please.. just.. make sure he’s.. safe…” Ryn pleaded, looking desperate.
How could Duinion tell Ryn, at a time like this, that he had no idea how to find his friend? He knew that Nal was a close friend of Ryn’s… he’d heard about him and his other friends often enough, and he knew ‘Nal’ was short for something but he didn’t know what. He managed a small nod. “I’ll keep him safe, I’ll look after him, I promise,” He finally answered, blinking back tears, though not really sure how to go about that promise. Then, recalling Ryn talking about how his friend Nal was going to join the rangers soon, he realized all he had to do was wait until he had joined up, and meet him then.
Ryn relaxed slightly, satisfied by his promise, but he was trying to say something else now. Duinion leaned closer, tempted to tell him to save his strength, but… he knew it would do no good, so he might as well say what he wanted to say.
“R-Ric..” Ryn managed after a moment. “He..wasn’t lying,” Gripping Duinion’s arm, he looked up at him intently, as if imparting some urgent message. “He..he
does have a brother… tell them, he.. Rip..wasn’t lying…” He started coughing, feebly, and grimaced in pain as he struggled to get a breath.
It pained Duinion to see his young friend in such pain, and the lump in his throat grew larger. He tried to hold Ryn still, keeping pressure on the worst wound, clinging to some vague hope that he might preserve the boy’s life, somehow. Meanwhile, he was trying to make sense of these strange words. “He wasn’t lying? What does that mean? Is that some sort of code?” He asked, puzzled by this statement. Who was that? Did he say Rip or Ric? He was aware that Ryn and his friends had a lot of secrets and inside jokes between themselves, but he couldn’t help wondering if Ryn were uttering nonsense in his last moments, not knowing what he was saying.
“J-just..tell them..” Ryn pleaded.
“Alright, I’ll tell them,” Duinion nodded, trying to reassure him. “Just lie still, Ryn.. please, don’t move.”
“I’m..cold,” Ryn mumbled. Every shallow, painful breath seemed more difficult than the last.
Duinion fought tears, watching Ryn struggle to stay alive for a few more moments.
“Cali,” Ryn murmured after a moment’s silence. His sister, Duinion knew the name, though he’d never met her. His heart broke further, thinking of the heartache this would bring to her, and to the rest of Ryn’s family.
“Cali.. I’m sorry..” Ryn muttered. “Tell her.. I’m sorry... I couldn’t.. keep my promise..” He managed a weak smile. “I tried…” He winced as a wave of pain passed through him. “I’m..s-sorry.. Cali…”
“I’m sure she’ll know… you tried..” Duinion’s voice broke, and tears spilled over as Ryn slipped away at last. No longer needing to stay strong for Ryn’s sake, he bowed his head, finally letting his grief take over.
It was some time later before the ranger lifted his head again, wiping the tears from his eyes. One of his comrades had returned, waiting quietly to the side with his head bowed. Duinion took a shaky breath. “He’s gone.” He gently moved Ryn from his arms and sat back, struggling to recompose himself. “What happened here?”
“We believe the bandits were dividing up the meat from the deer over there, and he must have surprised them.”
“Tell me you caught them…”
He shook his head regretfully. “Not yet. We followed the tracks to where they joined with a larger group, and then a couple of my men went on to follow those tracks as far as they can. The bandits must know we'll be after them, so they'll press on for as long as they can, if they're smart. It might be a while before we catch up to them, but we'll get them.” He spoke confidently.
Duinion sighed, looking down at Ryn, frowning as he noticed the absence of the daggers. “They took his weapons.” He remarked softly, frowning.
His comrade quietly rested a hand on his shoulder, trying to comfort him. "Then.. when we find the daggers, we'll find the ones responsible for this." He mentioned at last, not knowing what else to say.
“He was too young for this...” Duinion started choking up again. “Why did he have to.. if we’d only come a few minutes sooner…”
“It isn’t your fault, Duinion... but at least he had a friend with him, at the end.” The other ranger pointed out. “We’ll find those responsible and make them pay for this. For now, though, we need to get back. We must return him to the city, so that his family can bury him properly.” He motioned to a couple of others to carry Ryn back with them and led Duinion along.
Duinion followed, silently disagreeing; he should have insisted harder that Ryn not go off alone. He might have come looking for him sooner, too. Now, he probably ought to go along and speak some words of condolence to the family, but he couldn't. He couldn't bear to face them and tell of how he had failed to get to Ryn in time... and how could he then tell them that they hadn't even been able to catch the bandits responsible?
With heavy hearts, the company silently traveled back through the forest, bearing their fallen comrade toward home.
(The end)