Tamlin had a fine voice. It was not the most phenomenal Ranuk had heard (that would always be Hus the toad, who could produce dual tones so it sounded like a duet in one throat) but it was clear and strong and captivating enough to hold Ranuk's attention.<br/><br/>His ears flickered at the unfamiliar stanzas, and he tilted his head as Tamlin set the scene. It was placed just after the Dark Elve's independence from High Elf tyranny, so that would make it some time after Unak's death which marked the last, dragging legs of the conflict as the demons were steadily pushed out. The shadow people had firmly won the war, the last battles merely skirmishes to root out the rest of the demons, so Danyel's wish for peace and compromise was.... odd.<br/><br/>Demons were born with the knowledge that violence was an integral part of their lives, that war and battle was as eternal as the passage of time, as natural as the turning of the seasons. A demon did not become a full adult until he killed an enemy in combat, and many had come of age during the war. To question it as something cruel and unnecessary was near heresy to demon folk, so Danyel's plight was one of foolishness. Had the roles been reversed, with the demons on the winning side, they would have vanquished every stone skinned man, woman, and child with impunity.<br/><br/>Most of the demons listening showed such an opinion on their face, scoffing as Tamlin sang of a silly female elf interfering with things she knew nothing about. War was not meant for women, and their expressions turned grim when they heard Danyel storm the battlefield for her endangered love. They neither admired her bravery or sympathized with her fears. She should not have been there at all.<br/><br/>Soldiers die, that is their purpose, and she should have known better than to have fallen in love with one.<br/><br/>Every demonic face was creased with disapproval but then slackened with shock when a familiar demon was described. Ranuk blinked in his chair, ears twitching and eyes wide as Tamlin sang soulfully of his act of uncommon mercy.<br/><br/>He remembered that battle, of the valley soaked with blood, the bodies half buried in the falling snow. Most had been elves, only a few demons but there were so little of them left that each death had been a great loss. The mothers had already quit the mountain but Ranuk had stayed behind to secure the escape route and to perhaps find his end (but of course, none could best him).<br/><br/>He had been mad with grief by the death of his sire, swinging like a pendulum between moods of unbridled bloodlust and listless apathy. There was nothing inbetween. He remembered standing in the desolation, one of the last great demons left on the mountain, staring down a small she-elf shielding an elf already dead but too stubborn to stop breathing.<br/><br/>It was not mercy that stilled his hand, that prevented him from uniting the lovers in the afterlife. He had only been tired. So tired he couldnt muster the energy to lift his arm, he hardly had enough in his legs to even leave the field. His anger was burnt out by the battle and he had been left hollow. Her tearful cries had meant nothing to him, her words as immaterial as the cold, as the carnage, as the whipping wind and triumphant caws of the crows circling overhead. Everything had simply lost meaning, so Ranuk had left. He had not thought of her again after that moment and had completely forgotten the event until now, when it was being sung at him in an immortalized ballad.<br/><br/>It was so strange that this is what they chose to remember. His moment of inaction when he had surely killed more than his fair share of elves, women and children included in that number. He even knew the taste of their flesh as the winter had left little to hunt but countless of carrion to feast upon. Why this? Why this moment of supposed sympathy and mercy? Why humanize him to the standards of elves?<br/><br/>How nonsensical.<br/><br/>Ranuk could feel his mother's gaze on the side of his face. He idly considered telling her the truth of it and no doubt she would bray with cruel laughter, amused by the elves romanticizing a moment that had ultimately meant nothing to Ranuk. The whole hall would laugh, but then they would be laughing at Tamlin who had picked the song for a careful purpose, to solidify the yearning for peace, and he sang it so emotionally that some of his feelings must have aligned with poor, mistaken Danyel.<br/><br/>It would be detrimental if they all knew the truth, so Ranuk merely clapped his hands, the sound startling in its volume. Minas joined in a moment later and all the demons, despite their feelings on the song, applauded as well.<br/><br/>"Bravo, bravo," Minas said, hands clasped together and eyes gleaming, "very...<i>sentimental.</i>"