Comments

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What a sad story... The house of Húrin got the short end of the stick where fate was concerned.

I laughed so hard at your description of Tuor's decision! I reread that part and you're right XD But I always assumed he'd gone to ask for help too.

 

Thank you very much for reading and commenting! Hurin certainly makes you think about the reward for heroism. In his case, it can't even be argued that he brought it on himself in any way, as you might for his son. But as far as this story is concerned, I think perhaps the saddest part is that by the standards of the time Sador's niece isn't all that unlucky and she knows it. For every escaped thrall that reached the Havens, there must have been many that were caught and made an example of or died in the wilderness or were captured by orcs. But she managed to get her brother there in one piece--and the people of the Havens did the best they could for her

I'm glad you put that bit on Tuor's midlife crisis into the end notes - that made me laugh. I was on the verge of sniffling before that. Which is not a bad thing, really, because it means that the story got to me - but it's always so embarrassing to cry over a story.
Anyway! Despite the sniffling, I enjoyed this story - thanks for writing and sharing!

I like this story. It's very bleak, but also very well-written.

The fate of the people of Dor-lómin after Túrin's chaotic visit is one of the many tragedies of the Silmarillion that Tolkien implies more than describes, and it isn't something I've seen explored a lot in fanfic. I like how this story brings one of those people to life, in the person of the unnamed narrator. I also think it's fair to consider, as this story does by implication, what responsibility the Elves and the Valar have for their situation.

It's deeply sad and moving to me how the narrator and her mother still have faith in King Fingon and dream of him coming to save them -- but then, they have so little hope otherwise. I like this description of Idril visiting the hospital: "Lady Idril never forgets to smile at everyone before she goes in. She never remembers to smile at anyone when she leaves." It underlines what the narrator is realizing, that the Elves can't fend off death and tragedy either. And this is beautiful and evocative: "I hope my lady Idril is going home, back to the country where the light comes from, the place where she was born and that King Fingon also hailed from, they say." I like the description of her half-admitted love as "a last late gift of life." The poor narrator has had so little good in her life, so I'm glad for whatever bits of hope or comfort she can find at the end.