Come Together, Broken Things, and Grow by UnicornsInSpace

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Chapter 4

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495 of the First Age – Forest of Brethil

 

         The forest was uneasy. Finduilas could feel it deep in her bones- there were no birds singing, no small creatures scurrying, and the trees whispered dark words of orcs and elves lying dead along the Teiglin.

         “Danger, danger,” they said, “The creature with fire comes, the elf kingdom has fallen, dead bodies lie scattered along the river, beware, beware…”

         Her anger and sorrow threatened to overcome her, and she took in a sharp breath.

         “Where is Túrin?” She asked them, “Is he alive? I must know.”

         A chilling breeze blew through the forest, cutting straight through her silk dresses, making the leaves rustle and branches sway. After a moment, the trees spoke to her.

         “He wanders far. Walks away from the orcs and fire creature… careful, careful…”

         Her anger burned hot within her.

         “Please, I must find him. I must know.”

         Another moment of perfect silence, and then,

         “Very well. Protect yourself, be wary, wary…” and then the trees were guiding her to the spot he was last seen. She treaded silently through the forest as it led her along a path, over fallen branches and dead leaves. At last, a tree bid her to look to her right. She saw a glimmer of sunlight on something metal, and looking closer recognized it as the Dragon Helm of Dor-lómin. Túrin. She thanked the trees profusely, and they responded with another warning.

         She stormed angrily towards him, meaning to berate him for letting the orcs drag her away while she screamed for his help, but he did not respond at all when she called his name.

Maybe it was too far away for him to hear her with his human ears. She got closer, and called his name again. No answer. She noticed then that he was plodding along as if dazed, not his normal, confident gait. She took his hand in hers. He stopped immediately, but did nothing else. Turning him toward her, she looked up into his gorgeous, dark eyes and saw they were glassy. Covered by some fog, he stared far away, and did not respond to anything she said. Glaurung had put a spell on him. No wonder he did not answer her calls of anguish, he had been put under a spell by one of Morgoth’s dragons. Her anger dissipated and she focused on lifting the spell from her beloved.

         She took the dragon helm from his head, placing it on the ground beside them. Closing his eyes gently, she took a deep breath, and kept her hand hovering over his face.

She spoke of things hidden being found, of fog lifting, of glass clearing. A deep gasp broke through her chanting and Túrin grabbed her by the arms suddenly. She lowered her hand from his face and his grip on her softened. His eyes were no longer cloudy, but clear- clear, bright, and very confused.

         “Finduilas?” he asked.

         “Yes,” she responded.

         “What happened? The last thing I remember was… was…”

         “Glaurung? He put a spell on you.”

         “Of course he did.”

         “You just stood there while I was carried away by orcs, screaming for your help.”

         “Finduilas, I am so sorry, please forgive me. I didn’t know what was happening-”

         “I forgive you. Are you okay?”

         “Am I okay? Are you okay?! You just said you got dragged away by orcs! How did you escape?”

         “I used magic I learned from my aunt. Aunt Galadriel always told me I have to know how to protect myself in case the men in my life fail me. So she taught me all sorts of magic that she learned from Queen Melian. After the orcs captured me, I waited until they were distracted and I used my magic to escape. I freed the other prisoners, and we destroyed them.”

         “I really underestimated you.”

         “Yes, yes you did.”

         “How did you find me?”

         “The trees led me to you. And before you ask, I lifted the spell with magic from my aunt.”

         “Gwindor was right about you.”

         Finduilas laughed fondly.

         “What did dear Gwindor say about me?”

         “He said only you could save me from Morgoth’s curse.”

         “Well, I don’t know about that, but Glaurung’s spell was sure easy to lift. Now let’s get going to Doriath.”

         She turned towards the east, but he stood still and did not move with her.

         “Are you coming?” She asked him.

         “I do not wish to return to Doriath.” He told her.

         “Why not? King Thingol is your foster father.”

         “I accidentally chased this guy Saeros to his death because he taunted me for being human and insulted my people…”

         “King Thingol would surely forgive you if he knew the circumstances.”

         “I… I still do not wish to return.”

         “Very well, then. How about we join the Haladin of Brethil?”

         “I would be amenable to that.” He said, “But you can go to Doriath if you want. You don’t need to stay with me.”

         “Yes, I do.” She took his hand, “If you are okay with that.”

         “After what you did today, of course.” He squeezed her hand. “It could have been worse.”

         He picked up the dragon helm with his free hand, and they walked through Brethil together towards the Haladin’s settlement of Ephel Brandir.