Turin Turambar I

[soltan gris]

Turin Turambar


Turin, son of Hurin Thalion of Dor – lomin and Morwen Eledhwen, was born in the year 464 First Age, a time of great turmoil for Middle Earth. It was the year when Beren Erchamion met for the first time Luthien, and legends spread for their brave deeds, raising the spirit of the Noldors. Thus the Union of Maedhros was formed, and the free people of Middle Earth marched toward Nirnaeth Arnoediad and their final defeat. In this battle the forces of the Elves and their human allies were utterly destroyed, and only the Guarded Realm of Doriat and the hidden kingdoms of Nargothrond and Gondolin remained untouched by the power of Morgoth. Here also Hurin, Lord of Dor – lomin was captured by Gothmog himself and dragged to Angband with mockery.
There he was questioned by Morgoth Bauglir himself, because he knew that Hurin had the friendship of the King of Gondolin and wanted to uncover the location of his kingdom. He offered him freedom or rank of a general among his own armies. But Hurin the Steadfast mocked him, and said: “A fool is he who accepts what Morgoth offers. You will take first the price and then withhold the promise; and I should get only death.” Then Morgoth laughed and replied: “Death you may yet crave from me as a boon.”

Than he took Hurin to the Haudh-en-Nirnaeth, which was then new-built and reeked of death; and he threatened to harm his family. But Hurin replied:” You will not come tat Turgon through them, for they don’t know his secrets.” Than wrath mastered Morgoth and he cursed Hurin and Morwen and their offspring, saying: “Upon all whom you love my thought shall weight as a cloud of Doom, and it shall bring them down into darkness and despair. Wherever they go, evil shall arise. Whenever they speak, their words shall bring ill counsel. Whatsoever they do shall turn against them. They shall die without hope, cursing both life and death.” And taking Hurin back to Angband he set him in a chair of stone upon a high place of Thangorodrim, from which he could see afar the land of Hithlum in the west and the lands of Beleriand in the south. Then Morgoth cursed him again, and set his power upon him, so that he could not move, nor die, until Morgoth should release him. “You have dared to mock me, and have questioned the power of Melkor, Master of the fates of Arda. Therefore with my eyes you shall see, and with my ears you shall hear, and nothing shall be hidden from you.”

But of all this, in Dor – lomin nothing was hearth. Everyone considered Hurin dead, and thus Morwen, his wife, became the ruler of the remnant of the people of Hador, because Turin was but eight – years old. But Morgoth was clever; and he sent in Dor – lomin his allies, the Easterlings, both to fulfill his promise for a reward to them, and to assure that the spirit of the House of Hador is broken. The Easterlings enslaved the Edain; they took their lands and goods and treated them like dogs. But so great was the beauty and majesty of the Lady of Dor – lomin that the Easterlings were afraid and dared not to approach her manor. Nevertheless the family became poor, and only the secret aid of Lady Aerin, a kinswoman of Hurin and now the wife of Broda the Easterling, kept them from falling in utter misery.

Turin’s childhood




In the years after the Dagor Bragollach the shadow of the fear of Morgoth lengthened. And even after the deeds of Beren and Luthien have stirred the hope for the free people of Middle-Earth, the wiser were not easy, because they knew well the devious paths of the Enemy. Then in the year 469 an ill wind came from the north, and wherever it blew men fell ill and died in torture. The Evil Breath it was called and it stroke hard the lands of Hithlum and Dor-lomin. In that year Turin was yet only five years old, and Urwen his sister was three in the beginning of the spring. The people called her Lalaith, which is Laughter, for she was merry and her bright voice was like the sound of the stream that came singing near her father’s house. But Turin was unlike her; he was not merry and spoke little. He was also slow to forget injustice and mockery; but the fire of his father was also in him, and he could be sudden and fierce. Yet he was quick to pity, and the hurts of others might move him to tears. His father he saw rarely, for Hurin was always with host of Fingon, guarding the borders; and when he came home his words were strange and bewildering. All of Turin’s love at this time was given to her sister, but he played with her seldom, and preferred to guard her unseen.

Alas, when the Evil Breath came, he didn’t pass by the house of Hurin. Both Turin and Urwen fell sick, but only one emerged from the fever and dark dreams. And when Turin regained his strength, he asked for Lalaith, but his nurse answered: “Speak no more of Lalaith, son of Hurin; but of Urwen, your sister, you must ask tidings of your mother”. And when Morwen came to him and hearth his question, she said: “Urwen is dead, and laughter is stilled in this house; but you are still alive, my son, and so does the Enemy who has done this to us”.

Turin wept bitterly this night; and afterwards he never again spoke the name of his sister. His eyes were no longer the eyes of a child. Only one man was able at this time to comfort him – a house-man in the service of Hurin, named Sador. Turin called him Labadal, which is ‘holafoot’, because he was lame; but that name was given in pity and not in scorn. With him Turin often spoke for different things, and from him he learned much about honor, honesty and pity.

But then one night Hurin left his house to join the armies of the Alliance of Maethros, and his family saw him no more. Of the bitter end of the Nirnaeth no tidings came, and thus Morwen, the wife of Hurin, became the ruler of the remnant of the people of Hador, because Turin was but eight – years old. But Morgoth was clever; and he sent in Dor – lomin his allies, the Easterlings, both to fulfill his promise for a reward to them, and to assure that the spirit of the House of Hador is broken. The Easterlings enslaved the Edain; they took their lands and goods and treated them like dogs. But so great was the beauty and majesty of the Lady of Dor – lomin that the Easterlings were afraid and dared not to approach her manor. Nevertheless the family became poor, and only the secret aid of Lady Aerin, a kinswoman of Hurin and now the wife of Broda the Easterling, kept them from falling in utter misery.

As the time passed the hearth of Morwen grew darker with fear for her son, heir of Dor-lomin and Ladros; for she could see no hope for him better than to become a slave of the Easterlings. Therefore she decided to send Turin away in secret, and to beg king Tingol to harbor him, for Beren, son of Barahir was her father's kinsman, and he had been moreover a friend of Hurin, before evil befell. And so in the autumn of the Year of Lamentation Morwen sent Turin forth over the mountains with two aged servants; and after a long and dangerous journey they finally reached the Guarded Realm. There found them Beleg Cuthalion, chief of the marchwardens of Doriath; and brought them before Thingol. Now the king's mood toward the Houses of the Elf - friends was changed after Beren's heroic deeds; and he received Turin with honor and joy, and took him even to his own fostering. Thereafter messengers went north to Dor - lomin, bidding Morwen to follow his son to safety. But the proud Lady was not yet prepared to forfeit her realm; and moreover she had just been given bird of a new child of Hurin, Nienor, which is 'Lamentation'. So the family remained separated, and thus was its fate sealed.

[soltan gris]

Turin in Doriath



For nine years Turin remained in Doriath, and he was raised as the king's own son. He grew tall and strong and received a profound education in elven lore. But his life was marked with sorrow, because he was away from his family. For a long time messengers went regularly to Dor - lomin, and returning they brought good tidings for Morwen and Nienor. But then there came a day when the messengers did not return, and the king decided not to risk his men in such a long and fruitless journey. Turin was filled with grief and fear for his mother and sister; but he could not convince Thingol to send someone again. Then in grimness of hearth he asked the king for mail and sword; and he put on the Dragon - helm of Dor - lomin and went to the borders to become the companion in arms of Beleg. For the orcs had grown bolder and threatened the very lands of the Guarded Realm.

For three years fought Turin for Doriath; and the news of his deeds spread far and wide. But the curse of Morgoth still hanged over him, and the ill fate of the son of Hurin was at hand.

There was one in Doriath, a Nandorian elf in the name of Saeros. He was high in the counsel of the King, and he was deemed wise. But he envied secretly Turin for the honor he received from Thingol; a mere human whom the King loved as his own son. And now there was a day when Turin returned late from the borders, his garments wayworn and his appearance unkempt. And he sat like this on the table, because he was hungry. But then Saeros, who was seated opposite to him, said: "If the Men of Hithlum are so wild and fell, of what sort are the women of that land? Do they run like deer clad only in their hair?" Then Turin in great anger took up a drinking-vessel, and cast it at Saeros, and he was grievously hurt and decided to punish Turin.

On the next day Saeros waylaid Turin as he set out from Menegroth to return to the marches; he tried to shoot him, but Hurin's son had grown vigilant and fast and he dodged the missile and overcame the elf. Then he took down his clodes and set him to run naked as a hunted beast through the woods. A simple lesson had Turin in mind for the treacherous elf; but that day the fate was stronger. Saeros, wild with fear for his life, failed to see the chasm of a stream ahead of him; and he fell and his body was broken on a great rock in the water.

Now many of the people of Doriath had seen the chase and what happened in the end; but only one had seen the treacherous shot of Saeros, and that was young elf in the name of Nellas. But the others didn't know anything of the cause of Turin's actions, and they accused him to be cruel and to have killed Saeros without reason. Amongst them was Mablung, and he bade Turin to come with him and accept the King's judgment; seeking his pardon. Alas, the son of Hurin was too proud; he didn't want to stand in shame before the King and decided to leave Doriath and to become an outcast.

When Thingol understood what happened, he was at first furious at his foster son and condemned him; but then came Beleg, and with him was the maiden Nellas. She was secretly in love with the young man, and often liked to watch him from the shadows. And so she happened to be there when Saeros waylaid Turin, and finally the true reasons for the chase became clear. Now Thingol, regretted his harsh words and pardoned Turin; but it was already too late, for the man had disappeared. Then Beleg Cuthalion grabbed his armament and said: "I will seek Turin until I find him, and I will bring him back to Menegroth, if I can; for I love him also". And he departed from Menegroth and far across Beleriand sought in vain for tidings of Turin through many perils.

Turin among the outlaws




When Turin left Doriath he went westwards, into the woodlands south of Teiglin.
Now in this time there were many outlaws in that area; for the orcs had destroyed many houses during their raids, and many men became poor and were driven into the wild woods for evil deeds. The remaining communities were forced to defend themselves from the outlaws as well as from the orcs, and they called them ‘Gaurwaith’, the Wolf-men.
And it so chanced that Turin stumbled one day upon one such band. They trailed hum, and drew a ring about him. But Hurin’s son showed no fear; and when one of the men shot accidentally an arrow towards him, he picked up a stone from the ground and cast it with such force and aim that it broke the skull of the archer. The outlaws were impressed; and their chief Forveg realized that it won’t be wise for them to try to kill this man; instead he offered Turin to join the band. And so he did; but he didn’t reveal his true identity and named himself Neithan, the Wronged.

The outlaws grew to trust Turin, because he was not greedy and took little of the plunder; but they also feared hem, because of his sudden angers, and praised him for his strength and valiance. And one day it came to pass an incident in which Turin killed Forveg; and the others understood what happened, but they didn’t want to lose him as a fighter. So, finally the outlaws elected him to be their new captain, and Turin led them away out if that country.

But then, when a year had passed since Turin had fled from Doriath, it happened so that Beleg finally found his trace and came upon the outlaw's encampment south of Teiglin. It chanced that at that time Turin was gone from the camp; and the outlaws knowing not who this elf was seized him and bound him. They treated him cruelly, because they feared him to be a spy of the King of Doriath. But Turin returning and seeing what was done was stricken with remorse for all their evil and lawless deeds; and he released Beleg and rejoiced to see him after so long. Now Beleg told Turin for the King's pardon; and he sought to persuade him by all means that he might to return with him to Doriath. He said that their combined strength alone can stop the orcs who have found a new way down out of Taur-nu-fuin. Alas, in the pride of his heart Turin refused the pardon of Thingol, for he felt ashamed to come back to Menegroth after everything he had done with the outlaws. And he for his part tried to convince Beleg to stay with him; but this the elf wouldn't do.

So on the next day they parted outside the woods. And Turin looked out westwards, where the great height of Amon Rhud stood; and he said to Beleg: "You have said, seek me in Dimbar. But I say, seek for me on Amon Rhud! Else, this is our last farewell."

Beleg returned to the Thousand Caves, and he told Thingol and Melian everything that happened, save only of his evil handling from Turin's companions. Then he begged the King to give him leave; and he said so: "I will guard him and guide him as I may; then no man shall say that the elven-words are lightly spoken." And Thingol granted Beleg' s wish, for he was thankful to him; and he said that Beleg can have any gift he wants from the King's treasury. Then Beleg chose the sword Anglachel; and that was a sword of great worth, forged by Eol the Dark Elf from iron that fell from heaven as a blazing star. But as Thingol turned the hilt of the sword towards Beleg, Melian looked at the blade and said: "There is malice in this weapon. The dark heart of the smith still dwells in it. It will not love the hand it serves; neither will it abide with you long."

"Nonetheless, answered Beleg, I will wield it while I may." And so he departed and went back to the north marches to his brothers-in-arms. There in Dimbar the orcs were driven back, and Anglachel rejoiced to be unsheathed and spread dead and havoc amongst the enemy's servants. But then when the winter came, and war was stilled, suddenly vanished Beleg, and nobody hearth for him anymore.

When Beleg parted from the outlaws to return to Doriath Turin led those away westwards out of Sirion’s vale. They were grown weary of the life ever watchful and in fear of pursuit and they sought for a safer lair. One evening they came upon three dwarves, who fled before them. But one they seized; and a second one they managed to shot, but it fled in the dark. The dwarf they had taken was named Mim, and he was one of the last ‘petty’ dwarves who lived here for centuries. His kin was exiled long ago from the great cities in Ered Luin for some crimes long forgotten, and now from them only Mim and his two sons remained. The dwarf pleaded for his life before Turin and offered as ransom to lead them to his hidden halls which none might find without his aid. And that was exactly the shelter the outlaws were looking for. So it chanced that the band went to Amon Rhud, because there was the house of Mim; and Turin knew that his fate awaits him there.

[soltan gris]

Turin and Mim




The hill of Amon Rhud stood upon the edge of the moorlands that rose between the vales of Sirion and Narog. Its steep grey head was bare, save for the red seregon that mantled the stone. When the outlaws first saw this sight one of them said: “There is blood on the hill-top”.

Mim’s home was a cave near the steep slopes of the hill; and when they arrived for the first time before the entrance the Dwarf said: “Enter into Bar-en-Danweth, The House of Ransom, for so it shall be called from now on”. But inside grave news awaited him; for his son Khim had died from the arrow of the outlaws. Then Turin felt pity for him and promised to pay the dwarf a rich ransom in gold for his son. And Mim looked long at Turin, and said finally: “You speak like a dwarf-lord of old; and at that I marvel.”

So began the life of the band on Amon Rhud. When the winter came they moved little; for the weather was harsh and the winds of Morgoth blew chillingly. But then in the dim dusk of a winter’s day there appeared suddenly among them a man, cloaked and hooded in white, and he walked up to the fire without word. There he threw back his hood and he was Beleg Cuthalion, Turin’s friend. So the two comrades-in-arms joined together once more; for this time Beleg chose to stay with the outlaws, yielding to his love and against his wisdom.

But Mim the Dwarf envied the newcomer. For Turin now paid little heed to him and spoke to Beleg instead of listening to the long tales of the dwarf, as he used to do before. And in his heart a hate toward the elf began to grow.

But then the spring came and the might of Angband moved again; and this time the captain of the marchwardens of Doriath was not with them to instill courage in their hearts. So Dimbar was taken and the orcs poured into the south. But into the Guarded Plain they didn’t dare yet to go, for there a silent menace dwelled that repelled them. And far and wide through Beleriand the wisper went that The Helm and The Bow that have fallen in Dimbar had arisen once more. For Turin put on again the Helm of Hador, which Beleg had brought, and the Two Captains that have repelled the orcs for years from the borders of Doriath joined the fight again.

Many men then who roamed leaderless through the lands, scattered, but still courageous enough to fight the evil, came to the hill to seek the Captains; and they were willing to join them and free their lands once more. Now Beleg advised against their recruitment, because he feared that they will not be able to hide such a large army; and he was right. But Turin’s pride was high again; and he has always wanted to lead an army of his own like his father. And so he named himself anew, Gorthol, the Dread Helm, and he rallied the men and began fight the orcs openly. And in his deep halls smiled Morgoth, because the helm revealed him at last where Hurin’s son dwelled.

In the end of the year Mim and Ibun his son went out from Bar-en-Dandwedh to gather roots for their winter store; and they where taken captive by orcs. Then for a second time Mim promised to guide his enemies by the secret paths to his home; but yet he sought to delay the fulfillment of his promise and demanded that Gorthol should not be slain. And the orc captain laughed and replied that Turin, Hurin’s son shall live for shure.

Thus was the two Captain’s hideout betrayed, for the orcs came upon it by night at unawares, guided by Mim. Many of Turin’s company were slain as they slept; but the rest fought for their lives on the top of the hill and their blood was spilled upon the seregon. But a net was cast over Turin as he fought, and he was taken alive and carried towards Angband.

After the battle Mim crept out of the shadows, and he climbed to the hill-top to look for one particular dead body. But Beleg was not dead when he found him; then with all the hatred burning in him drew Mim forth the sword Anglachel and raised him for the lethal blow. But the elf was one the mightiest warriors of the Sindar; and he seized back his sword and trust it at the dwarf, and mim in terror fled wailing from his home. And Beleg cried after him: “The vengeance of the House of Hador will find you yet!”

Although Beleg was grievously wounded he recovered over time. And when he did not find Turin among the dead he knew that Hurin’s son is still alive and taken to Angband. Then he emerged on a rescue mission, and followed north the old track of the orcs. And they feared no pursuit and traveled at leisure; and so Beleg managed to reach them in Taur-nu-Fuin. But while passing through this evil land he found an unexpected ally: Gwindor of Nargothrond, who had been taken captive after Nirnaeth Arnoediad, but had managed to escape. Now when he heard Beleg’s intention to save Turin, he sought to dissuade him. But Beleg would not abandon his friend, and so the two elves continued the pursuit together.

The orcs have made their last camp just before the barren dunes of Anfauglith, and there is where the elves came upon them. Now they waited for the night to come; and with it a great storm rose out of the west. In the darkness shot Beleg one by one the wolf-sentinels, and in great peril entered the camp. There they found Turin bound to a great tree, and he was senseless in a sleep of great weariness. Beleg and Gwindor cut the bonds and silently carried him out of the dell; yet they stopped near a thicket of thorn-trees and laid him down. Now the storm drew very near; and Beleg, drowing out his sword Anglachel cut the fetters that bound Turin. And in this very moment arose the curse of Morgoth, for the blade slipped and hurt Turin’s foot. Aroused into a sudden wakefulness of rage and fear, and seeing one bending over him with naked blade Turin leapt up with a great cry, believing that the orcs are here to torment him again. And feeling free at last he seized the sword and slew his friend Beleg Cuthalion, thinking him a foe. In this moment, as he stood ready to sell his life dearly, a great flash of lightning came, and Turin looked down on Beleg’s face. Then he stood stonestill and silent, staring on that dreadful sight, knowing what he had done; and so terrible was his face, lit by the lightning that flickered all about them, that Gwindor cowered down upon the ground and dared not raise his eyes.

But now in the camp the orcs aroused in tumult, because they believed the thunder was sent against them by the great Enemies beyond the Sea. A great rain fell then and a wind arose, but Turin still stood beside the body of Beleg and despite Gwondor’s cries wouldn’t move, nor weep.

In the morning the sun arose hot and bright; and then the orcs discovered that their captive had escaped. But believing him to be far away already, and with the rain having erased all possible tracks they didn’t bother to give chase and continued towards Angband. But Turin still stood crazed and unwitting on the slopes of Taur-nu-Fuin

Finally Gwindor roused Turin to aid him in the burial of Beleg, and he rose as one that walked in sleep, and together they laid Beleg in a shallow grave, and placed beside him Belthronding his great bow. But the dread sword Anglachel Gwindor took, saying that it should better take vengeance on the servants of Morgoth than lie useless in the earth.

Thus ended Beleg Strongbow, truest of friends, greatest in skill of all that harboured in the woods of Beleriand in the Elder Days, at the hand of him whom he most loved. That grief was graven forever on the face of Turin and never faded. He wandered wordless after Gwindor and followed him as if in a dream; but the elf led him to Eithel Ivrin, where the river Narog began its path beneath the Mountains of Shadow. There he spoke to Turin, saying: “Awake, son of Hurin Thalion! On Ivrin’s lake is endless laughter. She is fed from crystal fountains unfailing, and guarded from defilement by Ulmo himself, who wrought her beauty in ancient days.” Than Turin knelt and drank from that water; and suddenly his tears were unloosed and he was healed of his madness.

Then Gwindor gave him the sword Anglachel, and Turin knew that it had great power, but its blade was black and dull and its edges blunt. “This is a strange blade, said Gwindor, and unlike any I have seen in Middle-earth. It mourns for Beleg even as you do. But be comforted, for I return to my home in Nargothrond and you shall come with me. There you will find rejuvenation and love and your life will start anew.” And both of them went southwards to the Guarded Plain and finally they were seized by the invisible guards and taken to Nargothrond.

[soltan gris]

Turin in Nargothrond


Only Finduilas daughter of Orodreth the King knew finally Gwindor who had changed after his years in Angband; and welcomed him, because she had loved him before the Nirnaeth. But Turin named himself Agarwaen, the son of Umart (Bloodstained, son of Ill-fate), a hunter in the woods, and the Elves questioned him no more and admitted him for the sake of Gwindor.

In that time Turin had already reached his full manhood, and he was in truth son of Morwen Eledhwen – pleasant to look upon. His face was more beautiful than any other among mortal Men, and he was furthermore strong and skilled in warfare. His speech and bearing were that of the ancient kingdom of Doriath, and even among the Eldar he might be taken for one of the great houses of the Noldor. Therefore some called him Adanedhel, the Elf-Man. So Turin grew high in favor with Orodreth and all the other Elves in Nargothrond. He chose to fight alongside them against the orcs, and the sword Anglachel was forged anew for him by cunning smiths. It was still black, but now its edges glowed with pale fire, and Turin named it Gurthang, Iron of Death. He wielded it in battle; and he was fierce and spread horror in the hearts of his enemies; and they began to call him also Mormegil, the Black Sword.

Then the heart of Finduilas was turned from Gwindor and against her will her love was given to Turin; bit he didn’t perceive that and paid her no attention. So Finduilas became sorrowful and silent. But Gwindor was aware of what has befallen her and sat in dark thought. Finally he spoke to her one day, saying: “ This Man is not Beren! A doom indeed lies on him, as seeing eyes may well read in him, but it is a dark doom. If you enter it, your live shall betray you to bitterness and death. Hear this! Though he be indeed agarwaen son of umarth, his real name is Turin, son of Hurin, who is held in Angband, and whose kin Morgoth himself had cursed.” Then Finduilas sat long in thought, but at last she said only: “Turin son of Hurin loves me not; nor will.”

Now when Turin learnt from Finduilas of what had happen, he was wrathful, and he accused Gwindor, saying that by revealing his name he had drawn the evil fate upon him. But so Gwindor answered: “The doom lies in yourself, not in your name.”

When it became known in Nargothrond the great lineage of Mormegil, the Elves praised him even more; and Orodreth himself gave him great honor and listened to his counsel. But now Turin yearned for brave strikes and battle in the open, and he spoke thus to all in Nargothrond. Only Gwindor was against this change of tactics, but no one heeded him anymore because of his weakness in battle. So finally the Elves of Nargothrond forsook their secrecy and went openly to battle. A great bridge was built over the Narog from the Doors of Felagund for the swifter passage of the elven armies; and all the servants of Angband were driven out of the plains between Sirion and Falas.
Thus was the secret kingdom also revealed to the wrath of Morgoth; but the name of Turin was still not spoken and far and wide the people talked only of the brave deeds of Momegil, the Black sword.

In that time of hope, when the evil was once again driven out of Beleriand, Morwen fled at last from Dor – lomin with Nienor, and traveled to the Halls of Thingol. But there grief awaited them, when they found Turin gone; nevertheless they were treated with honor and remained there as guests of the King.

In the year 495 of the First Age befell the doom of Nargothrond; but first in the spring there came before Orodreth two Elves named Gelmir and Arminas. They have journeyed a great deal along the cost, and brought news for a great mustering of evil creatures under the eaves of Ered Wethrin and in the Pass of Sirion. And also a warning they delivered, from the Lord of Waters himself; to conseal Nargothrond again, lest it be destroyed.
Orodreth was troubled by these dark words; but Turin would hear none of this. Alas, his pride had risen high again, and by no means would he abandon the open war, or destroy the great bridge. And so it came to pass that in the autumn of the year the Orcs invaded the land, and Morgoth unleashed all the strength he had long prepared.
Then the army of Nargothrond went forth, and king Orodreth led them, but Turin was at his right side. But the host of Morgoth was far greater that the scouts had reported, and Glaurung was unstoppable - wherever he went death and fear crept and the courage dwindled. So finally the Noldors were driven back and pressed by the Orcs into the field of Tumhalad, and there was their power and pride broken. There fell Orodreth, son of Finarfin, and Gwindor, son of Guilin was mortally wounded. In the last minute came Turin to safe him, and all fled before his terrible wrath. But it was too late, and so the dying elf spoke: “ Haste thee to Nargothrond, and save Finduilas. And this last I say to thee: she alone stands between thee and thy doom. If thou fall her, thy ill fate shall not fail to find thee. Farewell!”

Then a chill feeling crept over Turin, and he sped back to Nargothrond, mustering as many of his fellows as he was able to find in his great haste. Alas, the enemy had reached the gates of Felagund before them; and in this moment the great bridge Nargothrond betrayed its creators, because the defenders have been not able to destroy it in time. Glaurung himself had come in full might and overthrown the doors, so when Turin reached Nargothrond, he found it already ransacked by the orcs.

So great was his fury that everybody fled before him. He passed over the bridge and hewed his way towards the captives, who have been herded on the terraces before the doors. But then Glaurung issued suddenly from the gaping doors and lay between them and the bridge. And the evil spirit that was in him spoke: “Hail Turin, son of Hurin. Well met!” Then Turin leaped forth and tried to hit the dragon, but Glaurung evaded the strike and directed his gaze to the face of Turin. And so terrible and powerful was the magic of his spirit that Turin froze at place, unable to move, nor talk. Glaurung spoke again, taunting Turin, and said: “Evil have been all thy ways, son of Hurin. Thankless fosterling, outlaw, slayer of thy friend, thief of love, usurper of Nargothrond, captain foolhardly, and deserter of thy kin. As thralls thy mother and thy sister live in Dor-lomin, in misery and want. Thou art arrayed as a prince, butthey go in rags; and for thee they yearn, but thou carest not for that. Glad may be thy father to learn that he hath such a son; as learn he shall.” And Turin, being under the dragon’s spell, believed every word and he saw himself as in a mirror misshapen by malice, and loathed that which he saw.
And while he was yet held by the eyes of the dragon in torment of mind and unable to move, the Orcs drove away the herded captives and they passed near Turin and crossed over the bridge. Among them was Finduilas, and she cried out to Turin, but he was not able to help her. And not until the captives vanished in the distance withdrew Glaurung his gaze. Then Turin stirred slowly, as one waking from a hideous dream. And sprang again upon the dragon, but he was swift and coiling back swiftly towered above Turin and said: “Nay! At least thou art valiant; beyond all whom I have met. And they lie who say that we of our part do not honor the valor of our foes. See now! I offer thee freedom. Go to thy kin, if thou canst. Get thee gone! And if Elf or Man be left to make tale of these days, then surely in scorn will they name thee, if you spurnest this gift.”
Turin, being yet bemused by the dragon’s magic, believed him – as were he treating with a foe that could know pity. Turning away, he sped over the bridge, but Glaurung still had more to say: “Haste thee now, son of Hurin, to Dor – lomin! Or perhaps the orcs shall once again come before thee. And if thou tarry for Finduilas, then never shalt thou see Morwen again, and never at all shalt thou see Nienor thy sister, and they will curse thee.” And then he laughed, because he had fulfilled his master’s errand. Deciding to amuse himself, Glaurung sent fort his blast, and burned all around. Then he routed forth all the ransacking Orcs, and drove them away, denying them their plunder. The bridge he broke down and cast into the foam of Narog; and being at last secure he gathered all the hoards into the innermost hall of Nargothrond and lay upon them to rest.
But Turin hastened northwards; and the Fell Winter came down to meet him; for in that year snow fell ere autumn was passed, and spring came late and cold. Ever it seemed to him that he heard the cries of Finduilas, calling his name, and great was his anguish. But his heart was hot with the lies of Glaurung, and he imagined the ancient house of Hurin being burned and his mother and sister being tortured. So he forsook the Elven captives and sped northwards; and his fate was sealed.

[soltan gris]

The Return of Turin to Dor-lomin




At last worn by haste and the long road Turin came with the first ice of winter to the pools of Ivrin. But they were now only frozen mire, and were defiled by the evil of Glaurung. Thence he came to the passes in the mountains, and the ways were perilous and cold. Each step there reminded him of his past, when he had departed from his mother to go to Doriath; but finally he overcome the difficulties and entered again the land of his childhood.

Dor-lomin was now the land of the Easterlings, and the people were few and churlish and spoke the harsh tongue of the East. So Turin walked warily, hooded and silent, towards his old house. But when he reached it he found it empty and silent; for Morwen and Nienor were gone, and Broda the Incomer had plundered their belongings. His own house was nearest; and thither Turin came, seeking answers.

When he begged for shelter it was granted him; because some of the old kindlier manners were kept still here by Lady Aerin, Broda’s wife. Turin was given a seat by a fire among the servants, and he asked news of the land. Then the company fell silent, and some drew away. But one old vagabond man, with a crutch said: “If you speak the old tongue, master, speak it softer, and ask for no tidings. Would you be beaten for a rogue, or hung for a spy?” Then he came near and spoke low in Turin’s ear: “Whence are you and what news do you seek?”

Then Turin suddenly recognized the old man; he was Sador, his childhood friend. And revealing him his true identity, both went outside. There Turin learned all that has come to pass, and suddenly a black wrath shook him; for his eyes were opened, and the spell of Glaurung loosed its last threads. Out of the night about the hall it seemed to him that he heart again the cries of Finduilas, and he was seized by a blind rage. He slew all of the Easterlings in the House, beginning with Broda; and then he incited a rebellion amongst the slaves. Lady Aerin joined too and put the hall on fire; but the others let Turin away towards the mountains by strange paths, for soon the hunt for them was up with many men and dogs. But the rebels knew many secret paths and hideouts; in one of them they waited for the snow to stop and then showed Turin to a pass little used that led south to Sirion’s vale. There they parted, and one of them said: “Farewell now, Lord of Dor-lomin. But do not forget us. We shall be hunted men now; and the Wolf-folk will be crueler because of your coming. Therefore go, and do not return, unless you come with strength to deliver us. Farewell!’

Leaving Dor-lomin, Turin went southwards to the Vale of Sirion. Heavy thoughts occupied his mind, because he now realized the hard life of his own people and sought to help them. At least he knew now that his mother and sister are safe in Doriath, and he decided not to disturb them by going back into Thingol’s realm. Because Turin realized that an ill fate indeed follows his steps; and everywhere he goes dead and mayhem erupts.

And so Turin now turned to another duty, forgotten because of the lies of Glaurung – Finduilas. Alas, too long had been since the slaves have been dragged out of Nargothrond, and all trails and tracks have been washed away by the rains and the snow. In vain he roamed the roads to the Sirion pass. And so happened that Turin at last descended to the Forest of Brethil, and there he came upon some of the People of Haleth. Now these men were dwindled in the last years by the constant raids of orcs, and dwelt for the most part within a stockade upon the Hill of Amon Obel deep in the forest. Brandir, son of Handir was their leader now; but being lamed by a leg broken in childhood he wasn’t of the fighting sort. Instead he preferred the secret and secluded life apart from battles. But some of his men still made occasional raids on their borders and hunted nearby passing orc companies.

One of these fights unfolded when Turin came, and he was fast to help the men. Fort sprang again Gurthang and when the orcs saw the familiar black blade they fled in horror. Now Turin presented himself to the woodsmen by the name of Wildman-of-the-Woods, and asked for tidings about the Nargothrond slaves. Then the leader of the woodsmen, Dorlas, looked upon him with pity and said: “Seek no more. For an Orc-host came up from Nargothrond, and we had long warning of it: it marched very slowly because of the number of captives that were led. We ambushed the orcs with all the bowmen we managed to muster, and hoped to save the prisoners. But alas! As soon as they were assailed the orcs slew every single captive, and first the women; and the daughter of Orodreth they fastened to a tree with a spear.”

“How do you know this was her?” - asked Turin, mortally stricken.

“Because she spoke to me, before she died, said Dorlas. She told us to tell Mormegil that Finduilas is here.”

Then Hurin’s son went to that place, and he laid himself down and darkness fell on him, so the woodsmen thought he was dead. But Dorlas looked upon him and said: “Too late! This is a piteous chance. But see: here lies Mormegil himself, the great captain of Nargothrond. By his sword we should have known him, as did the Orcs.” Then the woodsmen lifted Turin up and bore him to Amon Obel, and there Brandir their lieder recognized the doom that lay upon him. “Why did you hold back death from this man?- said he. “Whit great labor you have brought hither the last bane of our people.” But nevertheless, he took care of Turin, and because he was a master healer he managed to return him to life.

Now Turin decided to stay with the woodsmen; but he took a new name and called himself Turambar, Master of Doom. He laid his black sword by and took it no more to battle, and wielded rather the bow and the spear. He suffered not the orcs to use the Crossings of Teiglin, or to draw near the mound where Finduilas was laid. Haudh-en-Elleth it was named, The Mound of the Elfmaid and soon the orcs learned to dread that place.

[soltan gris]

The journey of Morwen and Nienor to Nargothrond


When the Fell Winter withdrew new tidings of Nargothrond came to Doriath. Many refugees of the destroyed kingdom bore different stories about the Sack; and some said that Mormegil was slain, but others claimed that he is turned to stone by the spell of Glaurung to stay forever before the gates of Nargothrond. But all declared that it was known before the end that Mormegil was none other than Turin, son of Hurin of Dor-lomin.
Great was the sorrow and fear of Morwen and Nienor; and they wanted to know for sure what happened to Turin. So, Morwen went before the King to ask him to dispatch an expedition to Nargothrond. But Thingol believed that Turin has already found his fate and is either slain or beyond rescue; and he loathed the hour when Morwen should know this clearly. “I will not have you wander abroad in the black peril of these days” said he, and refused to send men with her to Nargothrond. Alas, Morwen was indeed brave and determined; and she was determined to go to Nargothrond alone, if nobody else would come. And even Nienor could not restrain her.

So Morwen left Doriath; but after her Thingol sent in secret a small company under the command of Mablung; and they have been commandeered to reveal themselves if Hurin’s wife reach indeed the borders of the Guarded Realm. That she did, and finally, joining her company, the elves led the ill-fated expedition to Nargothrond. But among them was also Nienor; for she had disguised herself with the hope to persuade her mother to turn back. But so great was the determination of Morwen to learn the fate of her son that no word of wisdom, or tears or pleads were to change her mind.

And so Mablung led them to the hill of Amon Ethir, which had been raised with great labor in the plain before the Doors of Felagund. It was tree-grown, safe on the summit, where a wide view might be had all ways. There stopped the group, and Mablung commandeered the women to stay hidden while he and most of his company went cautiously toward Nargothrond.

But the eyes of Glaurung were sharp and his malice infinite; he knew already that spies approached his dwelling and that some of them remained behind on the top of the hill. Thus, even as Mablung crept among the rocks seeking a place to cross the Narog, suddenly Glaurung came forth with a great blast of fire and crawled down into the stream. There was a great hissing and huge vapors arose, and Mablung and his followers were engulfed in a blinding steam and foul stench; and the most of them fled. Only Mablung himself had managed to hide behind a rock when the dragon came, and remained; for it seemed to him that he had an errand yet to do. He knew now for sure that Glaurung abode in Nargothrond; now he wanted to search the halls for some clues to the fate of Turin. He thought that Morwen and Nienor should now be safe, speeding towards Doriath; for the coming of the dragon could be easily marked. Alas, he had mistaken.

The watchers on the hill-top saw Glaurung indeed, and they bade the women to mount and to flee eastwards. But even as they came down from the hill into the plain, an ill wind blew the vapors upon them, and all the horses went mad. They raced wildly this way and that; and the guards were dispersed, and some of them fell down to great hurts. And Morwen was lost into the mist and no living person saw her again in Beleriand.

The horse of Nienor had thrown her as well, but she had fallen softly into the grass and was unhurt; but when she got on her feet she found herself alone, lost in the mist without companions. She decided then to return to the top of the hill; thither doubtless Mablung would come before he went away, if only to be sure none of his company remained there. Therefore walking at guess she found the hill by the rising of the ground before her. And finally after a long walk upwards she rose above the mist and reaching the top in the sunlight looked westwards. And there right before her was the great head of Glaurung, who have crept up silently from the other side; and before Nienor was aware her eyes looked in his eyes, and they were terrible, being filled with the evil spirit of Morgoth.

“What seek you here?” the dragon asked. And constrained to answer she said:” I do but seek one Turin that dwelt here a while. But he is dead, maybe.”

“I know not, said Glaurung. He was left here to defend the women and weaklings; butwhen I came he deserted them and fled. Why seek you such a one?”

“You lie, said Nienor, The children of Hurin at least are not craven. We fear you not.”

Then Glaurung laughed, because Nienor had just revealed her lineage to his malice. “Then you are fools, both you and your brother. And your boast shall be made in vain. For I am Glaurung!”

Than he drew her eyes unto his, and her will swooned. And it seemed to her that the sun sickened and all became dim about her; and slowly a great darkness drew on her and in that darkness there was emptiness; she knew nothing, and heart nothing, and remembered nothing.

In the same time Mablung explored the halls of Nargothrond; but they were long emptied by the orcs and the dragon and no evidence of Turin’s fate could be found there. At last, fearing that Glaurung would return any moment, the ranger came back to the doors. And really, he was barely able to evade the dragon, creeping now slow back towards Nargothrond. But while Mablung ran away there came behind him the laughter of Morgoth, and the voice of the dragon, saying: “Ill do you run the errands of Thingol. Haste you now to the hill and see what is become of your charge.”

And really, climbing on the top Mablung saw Nienor standing dark and still, as a statue of stone. Great was his grief and bewilderment, but he had no other choice but to lead Nienor upon the long eastward road. And when morning came she stumbled and fell, and lay still; and Mablung sat beside her in despair. Because he realized that he had utterly failed; not only did he find no news as to the fait of Turin; but also had he lost all of his company and the mother of Turin; and both he and Turin’s sister were as good as dead without any help in this orc-roamed land.

Thus they were found by three of the company that had fled from Narog at the coming of Glaurung. And now hope returned to Mablung and they continued their journey to Doriath. But so happened that when they had reached its western border they were attacked at night by orcs; they were few and the elves slew them easily, but in the middle of the fight a great fear came upon Nienor and with a great cry she jumped up and ran. And it seemed that the fear had given her wings; for none of the elves, as swift as they were, was not able to reach her. And despite all their efforts they found no tracks of her passing, for she had ran barefooted; and finally the battered remains of the reckoning mission returned to Doriath without news of Turin, and without his mother and sister too.

[soltan gris]

Nienor in Brethil




But as for Nienor, she ran on into the wood, hearing the shouts of pursuit coming behind her; and her clothing she tore off, until she went naked. Finally she fell down in utter weariness and slept, heedless of all. And when she woke up in the morning she rejoiced in the light as one first called to life; and all things that she saw seemed to her new and strange, and she had no names for them. Behind her lay only an empty darkness, through which came no memory of anything she had ever known. A shadow of fear only she remembered, and so she was wary and sought ever for hidings.

Thus she reached the river Teiglin and the green mound were the remains of Finduilas rested; and there she cast herself down; for she was spent and it seemed to her that the darkness is coming for her again. And indeed, there was a great storm coming, with lightning and great rain; and Nienor lay there cowering in terror of the thunder and the dark rain smote her nakedness.

So some woodsmen from Brethil found her, and Turin Turambar was among them. In this very moment a great lightning came down, and the Hauth-en-Elleth was lit as with a white flame. And in that flame it seemed to Turambar that the wraith of the elf-maiden laid on her grave, and he started back and trembled. But afterwards they found out that the girl is indeed alive; and marveling that she was so naked Turin cast his cloak about her and bore her away to the hunter’s lodge in the woods. There they lit a fire and wrapped coverlets about her, and she opened her eyes and looked upon them; and when her glance fell on Turambar a light came in her face, for it seemed to her that she had found at last something that she had sought in the darkness, and she was comforted. Now Turin questioned her, but she made no answer and wept only, and she didn’t remember her name. “Maybe the tale is too sad yet to tell, said then Turin. But I will give you a name, and call you Niniel, Maid of tears.” Then she looked up and shook her head, but she repeated ‘Niniel’. And that was the first word she spoke after her darkness, and it was her name among the woodsmen ever after.

In the morning they bore Niniel towards Efel Brandir; but as they came to the watter fall of Dimrost, were the air was cool and refreshing, she grew cold and shivered, and nobodu could comfort or warm her. That place was henceforth called Nen Girith, The Shuddering Watter. But by the time the woodsmen reached Efel Brandir Niniel was already wandering in fever. And Brandir had to fight for a long time for her life; and during this he grew to love her. But to Turambar her heart was given and only at his coming would she smile, and only when he spoke gaily would she laugh.

Thus began Niniel’s life in Brethil. As with a child the women had to teach her how to speak, word by word. But in this she was quick and took great delight, as someone who finds again great treasures that were mislaid. And one day she asked Turambar about his name. “It means, said he, ‘ Master of the Dark Shadow.’ For I also had my darkness, in which dear things were lost; but now I have overcome it, I deem.”

And in that evening, as he went back to his house in the twilight, he said to himself: “Hauth-en-Elleth! From the green mound she came. Is that a sign, and how shall I read it?”

Now that golden year waned and passed to a gentle winter, and there came another year. There was peace in Brethil, for the orcs shunned the Crossings of Teiglin, and passed westwards far beyond the river. At that time Nienor was fully healed, and had grown fair and strong. And Turin decided not to restrain himself any longer, but asked her in marriage. Niniel was glad; but when Brandir learned of that his heart was sick within him; and he warned her not to be hasty. “There lies a shadow within this man, and I am afraid” said he. “So he told me, replied Niniel. But he has escaped from it, even as I. And is he not worthy of love? Though he now holds himself at peace, was he not once one of the greatest captains, from whom all enemies would flee, if they saw him?” Then Brandir grew angry and revealed to her all the truth for Turin; his lineage and the curse, which was rumored to lie upon him. “Have a care, Niniel, he finally said, for I forebode that if Turambar goes again to battle, then not he but the Shadow shall have the mastery”.

“Ill would I endure it, she answered, but unwedded no better than wedded. And a wife, maybe, would better restrain him, and hold off the shadow”.

Nonetheless she was troubled by the conversation and bade Turambar wait yet a while. He found out what had happen between her and Brandir, and was displeased. But when the next spring came he said to Niniel that he could wait no longer, and will either go back to war or wed her and forget the battles once and for all. Than Niniel was glad and she plighted her troth, and at the mid-summer brother and sister were wedded. They dwelt for a while in happiness, but Brandir was troubled, and the shadow on his heart grew deeper.

[soltan gris]

The death of Glaurung



During all this time the power and malice of Glaurung had grown apace, and he waxed fat and he gathered orcs around him and ruled as a dragon-King. And feeling strong and secure at last he began to assail Brethil, for it was well-known to him and his master that there abode still some free men – the last of the Three Houses of the Edain to defy the power of the North. And so it came to pass that in the third year since Turin’s coming to Brethil the orc raids became regular and they pressed the woodsmen even to the borders of the forest. Whether Glaurung guessed where Turin was hidden, or whether he wanted simply to eradicate the People of Haleth was of little matter. For in the end the counsels of Brandir prove in vain; only two choices remained now for Turin – to sit deedless until driven forth like a rat; or to go forth soon to battle, and be revealed.
But for a long time he yielded to the prayers of Niniel and left Dorlas and the other fighters to heed the orcs off. He believed yet that this was another routine push of the unorganized creatures who longed for plunder and slaves. But their numbers were now far greater than before and they didn’t retreat when hit by Dorlas’s company. And so finally the woodsmen were driven back with great losses, and Dorlas himself came to Turambar and said: “Did you not ask to be counted one of our people, and no stranger? Is this peril not yours also? For our homes will not remain hidden if the orcs come further into our land.”

Therefore Turin arose and took again the sword Gurthang and he went to battle. And all the woodsmen were greatly heartened and gathered to him until he had a force of many hundreds. Then they hunted the orcs all over Brethil and slew every last of them. And when a new host came they trapped them and hit them by surprise; and seeing again the dreaded Black sword the orcs fled in terror and were slain in great numbers. But still some of them managed to return to Nargothrond; there Glaurung was furious because of the defeat, but he was in the same time content to have found again the son of Hurin; and he lay still for a while pondering the news.

Thus the winter passed in peace and the People of Brethil rejoiced, thinking that they had driven back the enemy for good. But Turin knew better; he was aware now that Glaurung knew again where to find him and his doom is approaching. But he said to himself: “The die is cast. Now comes the test, in which my boast shall be made good, or fail utterly. I will flee no more. Turambar indeed I will be, and by my own will and prowess I will surmount my doom – or fall. But failing or riding, Glaurung at least I will slay.”

So the next spring came and Niniel conceived and she became pale and wan, all her happiness going away. And soon there came tidings from the men that had gone to watch beyond Teiglin, that there was a great burning to the south towards Nargothrond. Soon it became apparent that the fires drew closer and that Glaurung himself made them. Thus Turin knew that the dragon is coming for him; and that there will be no more hiding.
Then he asked for some fighters hearty enough to accompany him in his quest to slay the dragon, and Dorlas was the first to step forth. But no others were so fast to answer the call, for the dread of Glaurung lay on them. Then Dorlas cried out: “Hearken, Men of Brethil, it is now well seen that for the evil of our times the counsels of Brandir were vain. There is no escape by hiding. Will none of you take the place of the son of Handir, that the House of Haleth be not put to shame?” Then Brandir was scorned, and he was bitter in his heart, for Turambar did not rebuke Dorlas. But one Huntor, Brandir’s kinsman, arose and said: ”I will go on behalf of the House of Haleth!”

Then Turambar finally said: “Three is enough. But, lord, I do not scorn you. See! We must go in great haste, and our task will need strong limbs. I deem that your place is with your people, for you are wise and you are a healer; and it may be that there will be great need of wisdom and healing before long.” But these words, though fair spoken, did but embitter Brandir the more.

Then Niniel tried to dissuade Turambar once more from this suicide mission; but he comforted her and said: “Neither you, nor I shall be slain by this Dragon, or by any foe of the North.” And with these words they parted; but Niniel’s goodbye kiss was cold.

When the three companions reached the Nen Girith and the scouts, which watched the dragon, the sun was already going low and shadows were long. And now it turned out that Glaurung approaches exactly how Turambar had hoped; for he headed directly to Brethil, instead of going north to the Crossings of Teiglin. So big was he now that he intended to cast himself over the Cabed-en-Aras – a deep chasm where one could hide and wait for the Dragon. That was the plan of Turambar, but Dorlas’s heart sank as he realized that; for the banks of the river were sheer and perilous at night, and the water ran fiercely among rocks. But there was useless to gainsay Turambar; and so the three men crept cautiously to the chasm in the night, and approached their doom.

In the same time Niniel stood silent as stone; but when Brandir came and tried to comfort her he achieved the opposite.
"I will go there to meet the tidings myself!”cried Niniel. Then Brandir’s dread grew black by these words, and he sought to dissuade her. But alas! The heart of Hurin’s daughter was hot, and she scorned Brandir and summoned the other woodsmen to follow her. So a great company gathered and moved toward the forest borders; and Brandir was bitter but he girt himself with a short sword and went after them as fast as he could.

Meanwhile Turambar and his companions finally reached the water, and when they looked down into the Cabed-en-Aras they saw only darkness and heart a great noise; and they were glad for that because it would conceal every movement and noise they make. So they went down into the perilous darkness; and sometime afterwards only two of them emerged on the other shore, for Dorlas's heart had been not brave enough to dare the crossing.
And so now Turambar and Hunthor waited for the coming of Glaurung. And suddenly there was a great noise and the chasm quivered and echoed. Than Turambar cried to Hunthor: “He stirs. The hour is upon us. Strike deep, for two must strike now for three!”
And so the hunt for Glaurung commenced. The dragon crawled with slow weight to the edge of the cliff and made ready to spring over the chasm. Now was the time to be bold and swift, and Turambar and Hunthor raced to the place where the shadow of the beast hung over the rocks. And while the giant dragon hurled himself forward the two heroes began to climb heedless of danger; but in the middle of the way up Turambar tottered and would have fallen down if but Hunthor, who seized craftily his arm and steadied him. “Great heart! Happy was the choise that took you for a helper!” But even as he spoke a great rock smote Hunthor on the head and he fell in the abyss.

And so finally The Master of Doom was the only one to face Glaurung. And in this moment he remembered all that Morgoth and his servant had inflicted upon Turin’s kin; and he stabbed the stanching belly with the Black Sword of Beleg; and so great was the might of his arm, enhanced by his hate, that Gurthang went deep even into the heart of the beast, wounding him mortally.

Then Glaurung, feeling his death-pang, gave forth a scream, and the watchers at Nen-Girith were agast. Turambar reeled as from a blow, and slipped down, and his sword was torn from his grasp and clave to the belly of the dragon. For Glaurung in a great spasm bent up all his shuddering bulk and hurled it over the ravine, and there upon the further shore he writhed, screaming, lashing and coiling himself in his agony, destroying the whole space around him, and lay there at last and was still.

Now Turambar had managed to survive the turmoil, and climbed back to the other shore. There Glaurung lay, with jaws agape, but his eyes were closed and his fires were gone. Then the heart of Turambar rose high within him, and he tried to recover his sword; for he now valued it above all treasures of Nargothrond. He seized the hilt of Gurthang, and setting his food upon the belly of the beast he cried: ”Hail, worm of Morgoth! Well met again! Thus is Turin son of Hurin avenged!” and he wrenched out the sword. But even as he did so a fountain of black blood spout out of the wound and fell upon his hand; and the poison burned Turin’s flesh and he cried out in pain. In this very moment the eyes of Glaurung opened and he looked upon Turin with such malice that he felt like smitten with a hammer and lay as one dead beside the dragon; and his sword was beneath him.

[soltan gris]

Doom


Now the watchers at Nen-Girith saw all this, but from afar, and they thought that the dragon is destroying the three that assailed him, and terror engulfed them. But they remembered Turambar’s words that Glaurung would come first to Feel Brandir if he prevails; and didn’t dare to move from their location. And Niniel shuddered and could not still her limbs, for when she heard the voice of Glaurung she felt the darkness creeping again upon her. Thus found her Brandir when he came at last to the bridge over Celebros, slow and weary. “The dragon has crossed the river, men told him, and the Black Sword is surely dead”. Than Brandir thought that the dragon shall go to Amon Obel, and he pitied his people not, fools that had flouted his counsel and had scorned him. But he wanted to lead Niniel away, and he cast his cloak upon her and said: “Time passes Niniel! It is time to go. If you will let me, I will lead you!”. Then silently she arose and took his hand; and they went down the path to the Crossings of Teiglin.

But then suddenly Niniel stopped and asked: “Is this the way? I thought you are leading me to him! Or would you deceive me? Turambar was my beloved and my husband and only to find him I go.” Nad even as Brandir stood amazed she sped from him, and she would not hear his cries and curses. But nonetheless, Brandir followed her towards the destruction were Glaurung and Turambar lay.

Now the moon rose white in the sky, and was near the full when Niniel reached the Crossings and the Hauth-en-Elleth stood there before her. And suddenly a shadow crept upon her, for she remembered the place and feared it. With a cry she turned then and fled south, casting off her cloak; and beneath she was all clad in white so she shone in the moon like a star. Finally she reached the place where the worm lay; and she saw Turambar, whit his sword beneath him, and he lay as dead in the moonlight. Then Niniel threw herself down wiping and kissing him; when she saw his hand burned by the dragon’s venom she tore a strip from her raiment and bound the wound. But during all this time Turambar didn’t move, nor answered her, and he appeared to be dead.

But instead of him Glaurung stirred, and for the last time he opened his eyes and spoke: ”Hail Nienor, daughter of Hurin. We meet again ere the end. I give thee joy that thou hast found thy brother at last. Here is he: a stabber in the dark, treacherous to foes, faithless to friends, and a curse unto his kin. Turin son of Hurin! But the worst of all his deeds thou shall feel in thyself!” And with these words the Great Worm of Angband finally died; and with his death the spell withdrew from Nienor and she remembered all her life again, along with all that has befallen her since she lay on Hauth-en-Elleth. Her whole body shook with horror and anguish. But Brandir, who had come near enough to hear everything, was stricken, and leaned against a tree.

Than suddenly Nienor arose to her feet and stood pale as a wraight in the moon, and cried:”Farewell, o twice beloved! A Turin Turambar turin’ ambartanen; master of doom by doom mastered! O happy to be dead!” Than she fled wildly, distraught with woe and horror, and Brandir stumbled after, crying to her to wait. One moment she paused, looking back: “Wait? She cried Wait? That was ever your counsel! Would that I had heeded! But now it is too late. And now I will no more wait upon Middle-earth!”

And with these words she cast herself in the chasm of Cabed-en-Aras; and this place was hence called Cabed Naeramarth, Leap of Dreadful Doom, and all living things shunned it.

And Brandir stood there aghast, and though he hated now his life, he could not there take the death that he desired. He turned towards Turin instead, and said: ”Do I hate you or do I pity you? But you are dead. I owe you no thanks, taker of all that I had or would have. But my people owe you a debt. It is fitting that from me they should learn it.” And he began to limp back to Nen-Girith; but as he climbed the steep path he saw a man peering from behind a tree, and knew his face. “Dorlas, he cried. “What news can you tell? How came you off alive?

Than Dorlas told him of the perilous crossing of the river at night; but Brandir saw through his words and knew that he had been afraid to go with Turambar. So he scorned him, saying: “You are begetter of our woes; egging on the Black Sword, bringing the Dragon upon us, putting me to scorn, drawing Hunthor to his death, and then you flee to skulk in the woods! Dorlas, I hate you!” Then Dorlas, being for his shame the readier to wrath, aimed a blow to Brandir with his fist; but the latter, being unnaturally swift in this moment, drew his sword and stabbed Dorlas to death. Then, for a moment, he stood there trembling, sickened by the blood, and casting down the sword he turned and went on his way. And when he reached finally Nen-Girith the night was fading; and the people there saw him as a shadow. Brandir then revealed everything to them, what has befallen near Cabed Naeramarth, and he said:” The Dragon is dead, but dead also is Turambar, and those are good tidings; yes, both of them are good indeed!” But the people still didn’t understand all evil that had come to pass, and they honored Turambar and decided to go to him and prepare a suitable grave for him and Niniel.

[soltan gris]

The Death of Turin




Now even as Nienor fled away, Turin stirred, and as Glaurung died the black swoon left him, and he breathed deep again and passed into a slumber of great weariness. Alas, his movements were not noticed by Nienor or Brandir, and so they thought that he is dead.

When the morning came Turin woke up; and he noticed the bond on his arm and marveled, for he was alone and yet someone had tended him. And there was no one to answer his call. So he arose and taking back his sword he walked slowly towards the forest. And even as the people at Nen-Girith were setting forth to seek his dead body, he stood before them. Then they gave back in terror, for they thought this is a ghost. But Turin spoke to him, saying: ”Nay, do not weep but be glad! Do I not live? And have I not slain the Dragon?”

Then the people turned upon Brandir, crying that he was a fool and liar, but Brandir was aghast, and stared at Turinwith fear in his eyes, and said nothing.

“So, said Turin, it was you then that was there, and tended my hand? I thank you. But your skill is fading if you cannot tell swoon from death” And then he turned to the people, demanding to know why they are here, and not on Amon Obel, and where is Niniel. But no one dared answer him

Brandir was the one that finally said: ”Niniel is not here. Your house is empty. She is dead!” One of the women than cried:” Pay no heed to him. Lord! For he is crazed. He came crying that you were dead, and called it good tidings. But you live. Why then should this tale of Niniel be true: that she is dead and even worse?”

Turin now strode against Brandir: “So, my death is good tidings? What lie have you begotten in your malice, Club-foot? Would you slay us with foul words, since you can wield no other weapon?” And then Brandir cried: ”I do not lie! I saw her leap. She fled from you, Turin son of Hurin, and in Cabed-en-Aras she cast herself, that she might never see you again. Niniel? Nay, Nienor, daughter of Hurin!”

Then Turin seized him, and shook him, for in this words he heard the feet of his doom overtaking him, but in horror and fury his heart would not receivethem. “Yes, I am son of Hurin, so long ago you guessed. But nothing do you know of Nienor my sister. Nothing! She dwells in the hidden kingdom, and is safe. It is a lie of your own vile mind, to drive my wife witless, and now me!” But Brandir shook him off. “She that you name wife came to you and tended you, and you didn’t answer her call. But one answered for you. Glaurung the Dragon revealed the whole truth to her, and on their deathbed men will speak true, they say. And even a Dragon, it seems! Turin, son of Hurin, a curse unto thy kin and ynto all that harbor thee!”

Then Turin grasped Gurthang and a fell light was in his eyes. “And what shall be said of you, Club-foot? Who told her secretly behind my back my right name? Who brought her to the malice of the dragon? Who stood by her and let her die? Who would now gloat upon me? Do men speak true before death? Then speak it now quickly!”

And Brandir, seeing his death in Turin’s face, stood still and said:” All that has chanced is a long tale to tell, and I am weary of you. But you slander me, son of Hurin. Did Glaurung slander you? If you slay me, then all shall see that he did not. Yet I do not fear to die, for I may seek then Nienor whom I loved, and maybe I shall find her beyond the sea.” And Turin cried: “Nay, Glaurung you shall find, and breed lies together! You shall sleep with the Worm, and rot in the darkness!” Then he lifted Gurthang and hewed Brandir, and smote him to death. And after that he went as one witless through the wild woods, now cursing Middle-Earth and all the life of Men, now calling upon Niniel. And finally he reached Hauth-enElleth, and cried: “Bitterly have I paid, O Finduilas! That ever I gave heed to the Dragon. Send me now counsel!’ And even as he cried he saw twelve huntsmen that came over Teiglin – they were Elves and Mablung, chief huntsman of Thingol, led them.

The company rejoiced to see him; and Mablung told him how he had heart of the dragon coming to Brethil, and had led his comrades hither to aid the woodsmen. “You are not swift enough, said then Turin, for Glaurung is dead.” Than the Elves praised him, but Turin replied: “I care not, for my heart also is slain. But since you come from Doriath, give me news of my kin.” “They are not there now, alas!” replied than Mablung, and Turin’s heart stood still. “Say on! He cried, hearing the feet of doom that would pursue him to the end, “And be swift.”

And now for his utter despair, Mablung revealed to him the story of the hapless expedition to Nargothrond, and how Turin’s mother and sister were lost in the woods.

And Turin laughed loud and shrill, and said: ”O, the fair Nienor! Brown as berry she was, dark was her hair, small and slim as an Elf-child, none could mistake her!”

But Mablung was amazed, and he said: “Some mistake is here. She was tall, and her eyes were blue, and her hair fine gold, the very likeness in woman’s form of Hurin, her father. You cannot have seen her.” “Can I not, Mablung, cried Turin, can I not? But why no, for see, I am blind! Blind, groping since childhood in a dark mist of Morgoth! Leave me! Go back to Doriath, and may winter shrivel it! A curse upon Menegroth! A curse upon your errand! This only was wanting. Now comes the night!” And he fled of them, like the wind, and they were filled with wonder and fear. But Mablung said: “Some strange and dreadful thing has chanced that we know not. Let us follow him, and aid him if we can, for he is now fey and witless.”

But Turin ran with inhuman speed, and he reached the Cabet-en-Aras far before them; and standing there he saw that all the trees and grass around were withered, and their leaves fell mournfully, as though winter had suddenly came it the beginning of summer.

“Cabed-en-Aras, Cabet Naeramarth!” he cried. “I will not defile your waters where Niniel was washed. For all my deeds have been ill, and the latest the worse.”

Then he drew forth his sword, and said to it: “Hail Gurthang, iron of Death, thou alone now remainest! From no blood wilt thou shrink! Wilt thou take Turin Turambar? Wilt thou slay me swiftly?” And from the blade a cold voice answered him: “Yea, I will drink thy blood, that I may forget the blood of Beleg my master, and that of Brandir, slain unjustly. I will slay thee swiftly!”

Then Turin set the hilt upon the ground, and cast himself upon the point of Gurthang. So ended Turin, son of Hurin Thalion, slayer of Glaurung, victim of the malice of the Enemy.

But his name was forever remembered amongst the greatest of heroes, despite his ill fate; and his body was laid in a high mound where he had fallen, and the shards of Gurthang, which had broken asunder under him, were set beside him. A great grey stone was also brought and set upon the mound, and thereon the Elves carved in the runes of Doriath:

Turin Turambar Dagnir Glaurunga

And beneath this:

Nienor Niniel



Thus ends the tale of Turin Turambar, the longest of all the lays of Beleriand.


This text is derived from both TheSilmarillion and The Unfinished Tales ("Narn I Hin Hurin"). Comments welcome:D

[Gil-Galad]

That is really impressive work.:)It will take me some time to read it :) and to ask you some questions if I have any :)

Great work Soltan :)

[soltan gris]

thanks, Gil, I'll wait for your questions (if there are any:)))))

meanwhile can I ask you how one becomes a member of the Guild of Tolkienology?
I'm willing to join:cool:

[Lhunithiliel]

Fantastic work, Soltan !!! :)
Thank you so much!
* * *
Re: The Guild of Tolkienology >> You see, there was a time-span of about two years when guilds there were various and quite a number in TTF. GoT was one of the largest and strongest. Me and GG, btw, were two of the first invited to join it ... Yeees, those were times, when people were invited to guilds! :rolleyes: :D The Guild was founded by Grond ( though some question this!) and it soon developed into an a society of actively interacting and contributing people, and that the result were many and various wonderful activities ...
Well.... see it for yourself! ;) :D
http://www.thetolkienforum.com/forumdisplay.php?s=&daysprune=-1&f=120

Anyway, those times are gone now. :(
Still, a couple of months ago, the community of GoT decided that instead of seeing the guild closed, it's better to transform its existence ...
And here you now have its successor - the Halls of Tolkienology, with its own URL address, thanks to the Webmaster of TTF:
http://www.tolkienology.com/ !!!

And there is no need to slay a dragon' in order to be an active member of the community of the HoT! Just be here and have fun while providing more of such wonderful writings as your "Turin" discussion and profile! :D

[Manveru]

Re: The Guild of Tolkienology >> You see, there was a time-span of about two years when guilds there were various and quite a number in TTF. GoT was one of the largest and strongest. Me and GG, btw, were two of the first invited to join it ... Yeees, those were times, when people were invited to guilds! :rolleyes: :D
oh, gosh... and i stepped in the guild uninvited, like a fly into one's soup... *pondering*
Anyway, those times are gone now. :(
maybe what did confuse soltan was that some people still have their signatures with the letters "sturdy" standing and creating: member of Guild of Tolkienology etc.

sorry, soltan, that i cannot say ath about your project right now (am just passing by...). but... it's great to see something fresh here, in these halls :)

[Astaldo]

I must say that your work soltan is absolutely great. So much time of research and writing! Congratulations. :D