The Eyes and Ears of Morgoth by Chilled in Hithlum

Home Surveillance

Morgoth's company enters Hithlum for the first time since the Return of the Noldor

For many days Húrin sat in anxiety, fearing the consequence of his rash words against Morgoth; he expected to be beaten, or tortured, or starved; at least to be left in his own filth; but his fears came to nothing and the deadening tedium continued as before. His days became less evil for he no longer had to suffer the petty whims of Morgoth, who visited not; and life continued in the same fashion as before for many long years to come. The Orb though was ever present, and Húrin knew that whenever he looked into it then whatsoever he saw would ultimately become known to his enemy; albeit his Orb never attuned itself to Morgoth’s or any other of that ilk. However, he had been commanded to use his every day and dared not risk the barrage of unwanted attention that disobedience would bring. Thus he proceeded in this way: he focused his attention in quick bursts on whichever Orbs he could detect, then he’d randomly flit from Orb to Orb and back again so as to scramble what he was seeing; in so doing, he hoped to leave the impression to whomever monitored him that he was impatient and bored; and more, he desired (if it were possible) to obscure the actions of any others that may prove useful to his foes. Indeed he became so proficient in this that he was able to follow the threads of vision from earlier scenes from particular Orbs and therefore formed a coherent, if somewhat disjointed, picture of the world without.

Upon instigation of this process, Húrin repeatedly happened on a specific view that never seemed to change, save only for seasonal effects or the passing by of wildlife. The scene effectively consisted of two vertical semicircles: on the right side stood only tall grass curving and fanning away from the imaginary centre line of this natural composition; and on the left was a dirt road that went off into the distance; and barely perceptible on the other side of the track was a sliver of green, probably the same genus of long grass. The mystery of this site’s location in Beleriand, even its unexceptional nature, made it all the more intriguing to Húrin, whose best guess as to why that Orb was there in the first place was simply that it must have been dropped led him to all kinds of supposition; and in order to pass time he invented myriad scenarios about it, nevertheless he would have to wait a long while until he learned the truth of the matter.

Morgoth indeed plotted retribution as touching the thorny issue of Húrin’s impudence but he could never settle on what it should involve; he took his accuser’s damning appraisal to heart and speculated overlong how best to respond without proving him right. Still, if it were a matter of simply crushing an irksome foe then Húrin would be long dead and none in his retinue would think aught of it. Yet the same questions increasingly plagued him: Why did he have to make a grand show and build that scaffold and continually use it, and what now of its remaining or dismantling, and how will either choice look; What right did Húrin have to speak to him thus, and who or what gave him such audacity; but most vexing of all: Why did it even bother him? The roots to answering these questions lay in the spurning of his tutelage and tutorship by Húrin, but Morgoth was far too conceited to admit this; and thus self-hampered he festered in mind and became inactive, receiving none in his presence. At length, it happened that the survivors of the Havens were brought chained to Angband but Morgoth chose not one among them to daunt in person as was his wont; therefore nothing was learnt of them and they were simply put to work as thralls. It was actually this incident that set tongues wagging (rather than any of the concerns Morgoth held privately of late) and many captains wondered at their lord’s conduct, yet in terror of him they dared not speak openly about it; but who in Angband really cared about their tyrant master’s frame of mind anyway: for their hearts were ruled either by secret defiance or broken acceptance. Moreover, the line between captor and captive was exceedingly fragile there; indeed any slave or any driver could easily find themselves on the wrong end of a blade, whip or flail at any time and for any reason.

During the first decade of Húrin’s captivity Morgoth’s forces reasserted their strength across the vanquished northlands of Beleriand. His garrisons rooted out all the secret byways that connected folk and laid heavy guard and tribute on them, for divers shoots of autonomy sprouted up in the days of their lord’s silence; and the many subjugated ones who rebelled against their petty overlords were slain but the more who couldn’t pay them were sent away into thraldom, and Angband's mines swelled in those days. For a time, Húrin had taken to viewing only the places wholly under Morgoth's domination and he witnessed much evil, again hoping to shield anybody else who opposed his enemy; but in the end all proved futile for Morgoth controlled all the Orbs and for a long, long time his stranglehold only ever seemed to tighten.

At length a long dreaded day dawned upon Middle-earth, being the very same on which for the eighth time the artificial vortex of ‘Evil Breath’ came and went about Thangorodrim; for on that gloomy autumn morn an orc company marched into Hithlum, whose ill-fated folk already suffered under the boot of the Easterlings. Their chief, one Lorgan, was most ill-pleased at this for these lands were gifted to him in return for his treachery during the Nirnaeth Arnoediad; but Morgoth sent messengers feigning that he wanted to bolster Lorgan's power base with a peace-keeping company. “Hithlum is a shielded land and needs no such force,” protested Lorgan, “To the entire south we are encompassed by mountains and in the north stands our protection; indeed we are bottled and sealed, and quite safe!”
    “Nevertheless, our lord wishes it!” said the messengers.
Lorgan guessed randomly at the reasons behind this thinly veiled bequest, knowing that he could do little to prevent ‘his land' from becoming an occupied territory: “I still hold sway in Hithlum!” said he, “These so-called ‘Keepers of the Peace’ must submit to my will while present in these lands!” and the messengers departed, leaving no sign or token of agreement or disapproval. Thereafter the newly dubbed ‘Migrants of Angband’ offered Lorgan no noticeable trouble, and for the most part removed themselves to the southern region of Dor-lómin or east beyond the Mountains of Mithrim. It soon became apparent that the orcs were not there for the benefit of the self styled ‘Master of Hithlum’ but for other undisclosed reasons; verily Lorgan played but a trifling part in Morgoth’s reprisal against the true Lord of Dor-lómin, whom he yet detained.

Lorgan’s Folk tended to shun the region of Mithrim, for in that land there dwelt a remnant of Grey-elves taking refuge in the mountains; these are the same folk that Rían took her infant son, Tuor son of Huor, to be fostered ere she died of grief on the Mound of the Slain. There is an enduring fire in elves that the Easterlings understand not, for it sustains them; which is for the most part manifested in the grace and peace of their disposition or as the wisdom reflected in their eyes; conversely, once turned to wrath their countenances become terrible and their gaze incendiary, with this state being most evident when they enter battle. The Easterlings did not encounter this latter flame in the elves until the Union of Maedhros and the revelation of it caused great apprehension among them; however, mannish culture (and pride) is such that one must dare not show fear in the face of an enemy or a comrade, for shame.

Now the homestead of Húrin stood in South-east Dor-lómin, nigh to the northern slopes of Amon Darthir closest to the mountain pass where elves were known to dwell in adjacent Mithrim; and for a time, during the first spreading out of the Easterlings, these regions they eschewed. At length however, one Brodda (seeing an opportunity to garner recognition among his peers that was otherwise lacking) seized the governorship of Húrin’s domain for his own and in so doing was well rewarded for his boldness. He publicised that there would be an inclusive tour of the territory in which he undertook to impose and initiate his new found authority; to imprint himself upon and daunt any of the disheartened; and to rightly measure the value of what he actually had in his grasp. Thus it was that he happened upon the Lady Morwen who from the start he feared, for the elf-sheen (with which she was named Eledhwen) lit her eyes, and by the force of her will she stared him down; yet had Brodda only known it, she quaked inwardly as she placed her frail person between the great brute at her gate and her young son hidden in her house.

Long ago the first Lord of Dor-lómin, Hador Lórindol, took possession of this property shortly after construction began; at that time it acted as a public administrative centre rather than a home, which he kept separately; however, during the latter years of his governance he added a whole western wing with its own living quarters and private grounds nigh to the stream of Nen Lalaith. This he did in preparation for the succession of his son, Galdor the Tall, and as a homely foundation for his extended family. The public sector of the house opened onto a large circular paved courtyard, around which stood three other structures at ordinal points: the largest faced the Lord’s House and served as a municipal banqueting hall, while the other two were a workshop and stable respectively, both still very substantial in size; and dividing these buildings into quadrants were four roads, similarly pathed to the outer court. These major thoroughfares branched out into the town but met only at the point where they crossed at the central parade, whereupon its point of intersection there stood a pillar and font. This small monument venerated the deeds of Beren and Lúthien being one of many placed in towns across all Beleriand, it was a simple birdbath for nightingales, dear to the Ladies of Menegroth; and being built by craftsman of Doriath they were received upon request as gestures of goodwill from Thingol and Melian. The setting of the font in Dor-lómin corresponded also with the year of the birth of Urwen, Húrin and Morwen’s first daughter, who in her young life loved the singing of the birds that came there. In the years after the capture of the Silmaril from Morgoth’s Crown news of these objects came to the Dark Lord’s ear and he ordered them destroyed on sight; however no orcs had entered Hithlum since the return of the Noldor to Middle-earth and the pillar outside Húrin’s house remained untouched. It appeared that this was the last (or the only) one in Greater Hithlum: and by the command of Morgoth it was topped with an Orb, whereafter a watch was put upon it and explicit threats were made with regard to any abuse or removal of the same.

In those days Húrin feared greatly for his wife and daughter lest they be sought out and dragged to Angband; but the Great Enemy had other plans and ordered that they should be let alone, gambling correctly that a husband’s and father’s anxiety would compel that very one to search for his kin regardless, abandoning whatever caution that one had formerly employed: thus after years of brooding, Morgoth enacted his vengeance against the words of Húrin.

In the interlude ere Túrin’s eighth birthday and the last day Húrin parted from his family, he expressed his disquiet to Morwen lest the coming battle against Angband should go ill, and he told her too of his fervent hope that she would follow their son to wheresoever she would sent him; but he knew her heart too well and felt sure that she would not lightly renounce their home or the land they had governed. The mounted Orb offered all-round vision to Húrin but in spite of this never once did the Lady of Dor-lómin venture forth into the public area, and his heart’s desire of seeing her from his seat was denied; indeed some part of him regretted not taking up Morgoth’s offer to have the Orb installed years earlier, but at least this way he was not in the monster’s debt.

Húrin lost count of the days he searched for any sign of his wife in that Orb, and knew not the number of hours he spent watching the communal entrance to the house they had inherited, all to no avail. He found zero activity there whatsoever which was completely foreign to him, for in his time all formal matters of convention took place behind those doors; and indeed it now seemed that such business had switched places with the banqueting hall. The Lady Morwen often had a hand in civic affairs in the former days of Húrin’s rule (predominantly during any absence by him) and her absence at this time disconcerted him; indeed for a short while he feared that the last vestige of his family may have been killed. However, confirmation of life came to Húrin by strangers who gossiped openly about the ‘Witch-wife who lived in the big house!’ and while this disrespect towards his wife angered him, it cheered him too; for he knew she had endured and he laughed at the thought of her formidable temperament keeping those rats at bay.

The familiar backdrop displayed in the Orb (being populated by mostly unrecognisable figures, speaking in a horrid dialect and engaged in awful deeds) soon lost any pleasure for Húrin; for he became saddened by the state of disrepair and by the lack of enthusiasm in his old land. Dor-lómin had always thrived under the patronage of its elven neighbours ere their removal; but now alas, with the loss of a generation of manhood, all ability in woodsmanship, sea-craft and husbandry diminished fast. The Easterlings imported their goods on great wains, having long ago stolen aught of value from the Hadorians; and they were greedy and mean-spirited, sharing nothing of their bounty with the subjugated folk whom they treated as beasts of burden to fetch and carry for them, or worse. Indeed anybody whom Húrin seemed to remember appeared gaunt and weathered to his pitying eyes and within himself he cursed Morgoth all the more.

Among those he clearly recognised was a kinswoman on his grandfather’s side, The Lady Aerin daughter of Indor; she is the same age as Húrin and he fondly recalled when her immediate family relocated nigh to his home at the invitation of Hador. As recent incomers into a new region Morwen and Aerin became close in their formative years, whereupon the former drew on her friend’s familial connection to gain access to the young lord, Húrin, to whom she took a fancy early on; who for his part was protective of Aerin and often warned off unwanted suitors, not least his younger brother; for even now she maintained her natural beauty which she always had from girlhood. Yet, when she was fourteen there was one to whom her eyes turned, but he was a soldier five years her elder and naught could come of it; henceforth he and Aerin pledged to wait and were closely watched. Yet alas, in that same year Morgoth broke the Siege of Angband and the young man didn’t return from the Dagor Bragollach; thereafter her heart’s love was given to no other. How sad then for Húrin to learn now that she was taken perforce into marriage by Brodda the Easterling. Now Húrin knew little of the doings of this ‘Incomer’ Brodda (save by word of mouth) for he dwelt some way up the north road, as viewed through the Orb; for in the days after the usurpation it soon became apparent to all that the new lord seldom ventured abroad in public but preferred to summon others to himself.

Indeed Húrin’s first sighting of Brodda occurred when he oversaw a public flogging outside the stables. It happened that his horse came up lame whilst riding and rather than look to his own lack of consideration for a mount he blamed the smith who last shoed the poor creature. The brutality of the scene was no doubt staged to deter those already under his oppression; for not since the days of Húrin’s administration it seemed had that area been so filled with Hadorians. And yet, even in spite of this poor man’s fate, Húrin looked for Morwen in the crowd and found her not; for even if she had verily beheld that gruesome spectacle (as all were commanded so to do) then perhaps she watched from an overlooking window. For thus Morwen had fully withdrawn from public life and through unanticipated consequences Aerin became the de facto Lady of Dor-lómin, albeit under the dominion of her husband; but the blood of Hador still ran in her veins and she never forgot her people, or the depth of her friendship toward the one whom she replaced. And the Lady Aerin used her position as Brodda’s wife to aid the demoralized folk wherever she could but it wasn’t easy with the persistent eyes of the Easterlings on her most of the time; they were a cowardly lot at heart who exploited betrayal as a currency in exchange for favour, vengeance or sport; therefore anybody (including themselves) having dealings amongst them had need for caution. Still, the Lady of Dor-lómin had excellent leadership qualities and organisational skills which her husband quickly recognised; whence of her he reaped a bountiful harvest, for he instinctively knew how to put ability to work much like aught else under his authority. That is not to say that Brodda grew softer towards Aerin as ever the more she proved her value, for he was a churlish brute and an angry quick-fisted drunkard; yet his subordinates learnt quickly not to speak disparagingly against her, for whenever he was exclusively amongst them he boasted of her as a trophy, and for his part, in this way he prized her highly. However there was this: from the first Brodda put a strict ban on aiding Morwen in any way, decreeing: “IF THAT ‘WITCH-WIFE’ IS TOO HAUGHTY TO COME AMONG US THEN NONE OF US SHALL GO AMONG HER; FURTHERMORE, AND WITHOUT EXCEPTION, ANY THAT ARE FOUND GIVING HER AUGHT OF RELIEF OR SUPPORT SHALL HAVE THE VERY SAME THINGS THEY GAVE DENIED TO THEM!”

There were other ladies too (whom Húrin knew to be the widows of his fallen brothers) who faired much less comfortably than Aerin; many of whom were pressed into drudgery in their own homes without the covering of a husband nor the authority of themselves being a wife, and their lot was harsh. Moreover, there came no word to Húrin through the Orb regarding the fate of any boy who was too young at the time to go to war ere the great defeat, and never once did his eyes or ears chance upon the flourish of Hadorian youth; the best he could hope for these young men was that they had been put out to work by their oppressors but realistically he feared the worst for them. One among the aged whom Húrin knew well was his servant, Sador, the self-maimed ‘Labadal’ and beloved friend of his son; he was often alone in a corner of his workshop, labouring on trifles, having none to teach in the craft of working wood. In those days the hapless old man had been charged with the safe keeping of valuables that the Easterlings wished to stow away, for the greater part of his sawmill had become naught but a storage area for their illicit goods. However, there was one who visited Sador at whiles in his isolation, a young girl of six or seven years who would deliver a covered basket containing fruit and bread. Húrin had also seen the child in the company of Aerin who treated her as a favourite, and he took her to be the daughter of the Lord and Lady of Dor-lómin for the resemblance to Aerin’s younger self was strong: fair hair, a slight frame and natural beauty; verily he guessed near, for truly the likeness was that of the House of Hador but her beauty stemmed from her mother, Morwen; yea this was Húrin’s third child, Niënor, whom he never cradled in his arms.

If there had been an Orb stationed at the Caves of Androth within the Mountains of Mithrim then perhaps Húrin would have laid eyes on a certain child there, who being of a similar age to Niënor he could not mistake for he so resembled his brother as a boy; for in that place dwelt and throve his nephew, Tuor son of Huor! The lad was fostered in this region by Annael, the leader of a small group of Grey-elves at Mithrim, when his mother Rían begged him to take care of the child upon hearing of the likely loss of her husband.

Now the chief reason for Morgoth entering Hithlum (besides retaliation against Húrin) was the rumour of this last remnant of settled elves that still evaded him, and whom in his spite he would hitherto flush out. He found them out when a covert scouting party from Mithrim was intercepted nigh the eaves of the Woods of Núath and brought before him at Angband. He guessed that they were seeking safe passages to the coastal lands where his orcs do not venture; for news had spread through all Beleriand that many displaced peoples were gathering for safety in the regions away south about Cirdan's Isle nigh to the Mouths of Sirion. And so, after a considered period when Annael’s folk did not return to Androth, the Mithrim elves were compelled to halt the search and were again forced to continue to live by stealth in the caves; only now their lives were further straitened with the encampment of orc spies about their lake. After a year of deadlock Morgoth grew impatient with the unsuccessful capture or slaughter of a single Mithrim-elf and he sought in his private counsels to come at them by another course; at length he sent forth a superintended gang of thralls out from his mines to the river sources about the mountains at Ered Wethrin, requiring them to find fissures, caves and tunnel complexes so as to discover an alternative pathway in order to reach the hidden Elves, and all this he attempted in secret. However, with the transportation of thralls, overseers and machinery there came the inevitable overflowing of undesired elements about the Northern Marches of Doriath; therefore, before long King Thingol was put on alert and he would not suffer any enemies to patrol so close to his lands. Queen Melian advised against provocation, deeming that: "A hot dispute can soon lead to an avoidable war!" but Thingol sent out armed wardens out to deter them. As always, the wisdom of Melian proved true; and although Morgoth could not yet come against Doriath (because of the enchanted Girdle round about it) he was determined that his plan would work, thus he lessened his workers numbers but increased the frequency and intensity of their quotas. Therefore, the thralls of Angband endured back-breaking work for several years, but the mountains were too densely clustered and Morgoth's hope was wholly denied.