The Eyes and Ears of Melkor by Chilled in Hithlum

Chapter 11 The Lost and The Found

Melkor pondered the events of the previous year and was in doubt; for he endlessly craved the mastery of all wills and hated that free folk made decisions autonomously, moreover, his voracity was such that he was loath to suffer the loss of command and summit his will to those who served him.  Therefore he considered the advisability of releasing Glaurung unrestrained into the world and his old suspicions of usurpation niggled at him.  It was already known to all in Angband that their lord promised much to the Dragon in payment of the fulfilment of the curse; hence Melkor could not be seen to renege on his word now, in private though he did not approve of Glaurung's stealthy tactics and he grew impatient, he would have preferred that Turin and Nienor be now AT HIS MERCY.  Once again it seemed to him that rash pledges surpassed his schemes; yet he remembered how Glaurung wanted to reduce Hurin and his kin to ashes in the first place and said, "I did stay his fire, did I not?  Hmm, mayhap Glaurung takes me fully at my word and plays a longer game, but he gambles too much with fate for my liking and I shall have to rein in my fiery collaborator and show him how stack the odds in our favour at his next rousing.  Although, Glaurung hides nothing from me, but he consults not with me either; I shall simply have to trust in the malice that I poured into him otherwise I will drive myself into madness.  Why will they not just surrender to my benevolence and let me tend to the world, MY WORLD, after all am I not the fittest to rule, am I not the mightiest in body and the cleverest in mind?  Ah!  I am friendless and nobody understands that I too love the earth and would shape it to the benefit of all, by mine own hand.  It is difficult being the Elder King and heavy lays my crown tonight; oh Melkor, you worry too much and that is your only failing, take your rest now and all will become clearer in the morning!"

Hurin was also in doubt; for as his daughter slept on the mound of Finduilas he too pondered recent events and especially the words of Mablung at the camp fire, "Alas for Morwen the proud and fey, if only the Lady of Dor-Lomin had but waited a little time longer as bidden, then she would not be lost and we would be all the more ready and able to met our foe."  Hurin replied posthumously, "You err Mablung, for how could you know whether the beast slept or not?  If you had waited then Glaurung would have been ahead of you and no doubt my intrepid wife and daughter would be as floating cinders on the wind.  But for her haste, I would not now behold my little one astray in the wilderness; Oh Morwen proud and beautiful, where are you?  Please find your way to our children ere the end!"  Hurin would have wept for his sorrows then and there, but Nienor was presently awoken by a riotous peel of thunder and the sound of fighting.  She cowered on the mound, pelted by rain, as the Men of Brethil slew the remnants of an Orc sortie that dared approach the Haudh-en-Elleth.  Suddenly a burst of lightning illuminated the glade and the Men gasped in horror at the sight of Nienor believing her to be the wraith of Finduilas.  Hurin recognised his son among the Men and wondered if Turin remembered the slaying of Beleg at the storm at Anfauglith; and ever did it seem to the father in after days that in those split-seconds of intense light the fate of the son was turned to a more evil end, for even now Turin quailed at this scene as a frightened child.  Before long, a member of the company approached the mound cautiously but Nienor fled not, though a great fear had taken her; she being naked and soaked had now neither the strength nor will to run helplessly into the forest again, and she fell into a weary swoon.  When it was established that Nienor was not a phantom but indeed living flesh and bone, the Men of Brethil erected a hastily built stretcher and carried her away from the grassy cairn to a nearby hunter‘s lodge, and there she rested by the warmth of a fire.

The first thing that Hurin saw as Nienor awoke were a pair of beautiful grey eyes looking back him and for a moment he thought the Morwen was found; however, as they pulled back the compassionate face of Turin revealed itself to him.  Nienor withdrew her right arm from the animal skins that covered her bed and she reached out to the kindly figure before her.  Hurin perceived the lightening of Nienor's spirit as Turin took her hand and reassured her that all was safe.  Had Hurin knew what this first meeting of brother and sister would bring then he would not has been so filled in his heart at this glad encounter.  Yet it seemed to all that a shadow departed from the unfortunate maiden when she rose in that lodge.  The Men, out of concern, asked her many questions but she could answer none; not because she would not but because she could not, for so vicious was Glaurung's spell that Nienor was struck mute and did not know anything of her previous life, and she wept with frustration.  Seeing her distress, they questioned her no more but they feed her and gave her water which she accepted gratefully; the Men of Brethil bade her rest and saying that they would bring Nienor to their homes and there they would take care of her.  At the last Turin said, "Do not be troubled!  Maybe the tale is too sad yet to tell.  But I will give you a name, and call you Niniel, Maid of Tears."  Hurin wondered much at the nearness of his son's guess for her true name means ‘Mourning' and he wondered still as his daughter looked up, shaking her head, and said, "Niniel"; this was her first word since her meeting with the dreadful Glaurung and ever after would she go by that name.    

The next morning Hurin awoke in a fever which seemed strange to him since no illness had ever beset him during his incarceration on Thangorodhrim, however, he soon realised that he but felt the side effects of his daughter's exposure to the wild elements; yet through the malaise, Hurin clearly heard Turin speaking with the other Brethilim.  

"My lord Turambar," said one named Dorlas, "the lady is too unwell to chance the road to Ephel Brandir."

Turin answered, "I agree, we shall tend her here the best we can.  I shall send you forward, good Dorlas, to bring back such aid as we need."

Another named Hunthor wisely interposed, "But Lords that would take too long; and besides my kinsman the Lord Brandir is skilled in healing, the sooner we reach him the better he aid her."

Dorlas said, "Yes, that is why I will go now and return with him," and with that he ran on ahead.

Hunthor continued, "I know the way is perilous but Niniel's need is great; if you care for this unfortunate, Turambar, then I beseech you, let us go now and increase her chances of survival." 

Turin relented to Hunthor's will and the Men of Brethil bore Niniel aloft once more made for their homes; Hurin was relieved that his son saw sense in that end but he shook his head disappointedly on hearing that he had changed his name again, and even as Gwindor spoke many years ago in Nargothrond, Hurin said, "The doom lies in yourself, not your name."  And Hurin disliked this new name, which signified Master of Doom, for he deemed it too alike to his enemy‘s favourite title, Morgoth, Master of the Fates of Arda.  Thus it was that they transported Niniel along the sloping road towards Dimrost, the Rainy Stair; which lay aside the narrow ridge of splash worn and step-carved rocks leading up to the crossing of, the swiftly plummeting and rocky, stream of Celebros.  The jagged and slippery turns of this ledge were difficult enough to negotiate when travelling in single file and were especially perilous whilst baring an invalid on a stretcher, but this was the only way to reach the wooden bridge that spanned the stream.  By taking this way the travellers saved hours but the cold air and spraying waters deepened Niniel's fever; consequently, they came with much haste to the expansive wooded hill of Amon Obel, upon which stood the stockade walls of the Ephel Brandir where the woodmen had their homes.  They were met by the long prepared nurse-maids of the town and Niniel was brought to the house of Brandir, Son of Handir, for healing and long he tended to her ailments; but she rested uneasily with much agitation and she moaned unintelligibly in her sleep, save only when Turambar stayed by her bedside.  Hurin endured his daughter's symptoms, although they did not afflict him, and he felt her relief when Turin sat with her; their father hoped that the bond of blood would bring healing to the insensible Nienor and he felt sure that once she recouped somehow their kinship would reveal itself and the siblings would be together at last. 

Hurin's chief fear in those days lay in the certainty that his enemy would assail his children and mar their happiness; indeed all this did was known to the Dark Lord of Angband but he laughed rather than grow wrathful, for he saw what Hurin could not and was perfectly happy to let matters take their course.  Finally, Melkor now understood the designs of Glaurung and he was glad; he wondered why he had not devised this plan himself since the Uruloki sprang from his creation and he said, "Our malice is the same but our bodies are different, he needs sleep and I take none, mayhap I should rest more and let my fuse burn slower.  I have erred in the past, for in my eagerness to create and imbue I have not replenished myself; Manwe knew this, how could he let his own brother spend himself thus?  Ha!  Once again dear brother I have uncovered your deepest secrets and once again I will be more than ready to meet you in the days that hasten.  I was right to expend my power, for who can defeat me when I conceive such things that surpass even mine own expectation?"  For long years after Melkor remained untroubled in mind; he believed that if let his ongoing creations grow unhampered and if he convalesced, then his final victory would be undisputed amid the trammels of Ea. 

No news of Morwen reached Hurin's ears in those days and nobody knew for certain whether or not she lived, or indeed where she might have fled to.  However, when Mablung returned to Menegroth empty handed he told what he knew of Morwen and Nienor; and deeming himself a failure he offered to surrender his captaincy, but the king and queen would hear none of it, declaring that he came as bidden with news of Nargothrond and they told him that there was no dishonour in being outmatched by a greater foe.  Still, Mablung was not reassured and felt responsible for losing his wards; he begged the king's leave to search for them and bring them back if he could to the safety of Doriath and Thingol granted him three years.  Thus Mablung went far across the lands in pursuit of them but when at last he returned unavailing the king said, "It is no fault of yours that those whom your tidings touch nearest are beyond hearing.  Grievous indeed is this end of Hurin's kin, but it lies not at your door."