The Eyes and Ears of Melkor by Chilled in Hithlum

---

Chapter 13 The Stirring of Evil

---

The autumn and winter months remained ever pleasant, yet an indeterminate disquiet began to spread throughout the southlands; the very nature of this weather somehow felt unnatural but always remarkable.  Still, there was a bountiful harvest for all peoples and food-stocks were piled high, especially after the privations of the previous Fell Winter.  The free-lands were unsullied by roaming Orcs and families were not harried or plundered in this time; but the wise, even among lesser folk, knew or sensed that this happy situation could not continue too much longer.  Men-at-Arms prepared for battles that never came and, though the conditions were conducive to wandering and adventure, mothers kept their impatient children close to home.  Melkor celebrated this climate of fear, for this was just the circumstance he had wished for ere the awakening of Glaurung; once again The Great Enemy gloated that by his desire alone a status better than his design could come about, and he was most pleased.  Thus it was as the nights expanded, Melkor sent forth a host out of Angband; not to assail scurrying peasants and jaded Elves, but to deliver his commands to the over-lazy Dragon and to bolster the Great Worm at need.  The vast movement of the Orcs went unnoticed by the Men of Brethil for they steered clear of the lands about Teiglin; they passed rather under the shadows the Ered Wethrin and coming to Eithel Ivrin they followed the River Narog down to the once proud and beautiful Nargothrond, now Glaurung's scorched and foul smelling lair.

Debatably the unease of these days was felt mostly by Hurin, who witnessed the regression of his daughter and underwent her sickness of heart; for since her last encounter with Turambar she had fallen into a long silence, and she went not abroad but brooded overlong in her quarters.  Brandir knew not what ailed her and for many days she spurned the presence of any visitors, and would hardly eat.  Brandir graciously let her be and pressed her not, until after a week of Niniel merely pecking at her food he insisted that she eat properly.  At length her malaise lightened and she thanked her host once more for his kindness and patience towards her; however, beyond that she would not go and Niniel spoke not to Brandir of Turambar, or her feelings for him, though she guessed rightly that Hunthor reported to his lord what he had witnessed that night, which in effect was not very much to speak of.  Soon enough Niniel came back to herself and walked out with her friends but oftentimes they found her distracted in her own thought, staring out at the trees beyond Ephel Brandir.  She took to walking alone again in the early dusk, saying that she wanted to savour the last of the sun, but in truth Niniel hoped to catch a glimpse of Turambar on the evening watch.  She was disappointed in her searching because he now continually requested a far out posting; moreover, Brandir always sent out attendants to follow her in secret, and if she tarried too long in the darkness they would feign a chance meeting and bring her home.  Niniel soon tired of their over-protectiveness and would leave Brandir's house earlier in the day to ensure that she returned before nightfall.  This ultimately proved fortuitous for her because now she saw Turambar among his colleagues before he departed into the dense woods; and so it was, the shorter the days became the sooner she would leave the safety of the stockade and furtively watch her beloved at his work.  Those waning days grew ever the sadder for Brandir because his dearest spent less time with him, and whenever she was at home her eyes were always turned towards the door.  Yet his kindness never wavered, and since they had not plighted any troth there was little he could do to restrain her movements; therefore in the most part, Brandir forewent his grief and he provided Niniel with all the security she ever needed and they enjoyed the limited semblance of a happy home together.

There came a day of winter when Hurin watched his daughter and Brandir taking their early morning constitutional, and her father listened to them as they walked as usual with linked arms. 

Brandir said, "Today is beginning of the month of Yule, we shall have a fine celebration this year for the weather is yet kind to us and our stock in plentiful."

Niniel enquired, "What is Yule?"

Brandir smiled wistfully and said, "It is the day when we mark the returning of the light by giving thanks to The Powers, for you will see in after days that the sun will chase away the night."

"How is this possible?" said Niniel, now even more confused. 

"This is what we call the changing of seasons, Niniel" he said genially, "It is difficult to explain this to you since the climate has hardly changed this year but I will try." Brandir went on to explain the changing of weather patterns and finished by saying, "After Yule we will gradually move on to the spring; it was during the last springtime that you came here to us, yet somehow it seems much longer."

"So, it is at Yule that I should thank The Powers for leading me out of my darkness to this place of safekeeping and love?" said Niniel.  

Staggered by her words; Brandir said, "Yes!  I am thankful too for your coming here and I deem that since then our days in Brethil have never been brighter.  It pleases me greatly that you have found solace here, but it also saddens my heart when you speak of the dark times that lay behind you; tell me, Niniel, do you remember anything of those days, for I sense that they haunt you still?"

They stopped walking and she rested her head on his shoulder, pausing for thought; immediately Brandir regretted his questioning and, unlinking his arm from hers, he grasped her shoulder in a gesture of support.  At length Niniel said, "I was looking for something, no somebody but I know not..."  Just at that moment Turambar happened to pass by with his company and, for the first time since their last converse, he met Niniel's glance and they both smiled coyly at each other.  When he had moved beyond hearing, she suddenly she blurted out the word "Brother"; Hurin's heart pounded for joy at this, because now he believed that his hope had come to pass and that she finally recognised her sibling.  Alas, this fatherly wish fizzled to ashes as his daughter continued, "...I was looking for my brother but this is all I can remember.  Although this matters not to me any longer, for I have found the finest brother I could ever wish for in YOU my darling Brandir," and she kissed him softly on the cheek.

At that precise moment, before Hurin could hear Brandir's response, the Orb of Thangorodhrim suddenly shut down dead.  Hurin watched with trepidation as the gold inside it began to churn with increasing speed for he knew that the Dragon was roused; he cursed his own lack of readiness for this eventuality, remembering Glaurung's ruling not to surrender control of the Orb.  Surprisingly, the flecks did not amalgamate into solid light but instead span in the opposite direction than they had before, and Hurin wondered much at this change.  The circular motion would cease sporadically and resume again with a hypnotic flurry; until after an hour it stopped completely and the Orb settled to reveal a muddy brown viscous fog.  The nauseating murk began stretching and kneading itself into a thin veil of mist and eventually the golden constellations began to reorganise in the obsidian night of that globe.  Presently the bleak vision of Glaurung the Mighty materialized, smiling so broadly that his eyes became as slits; Hurin said no word but lowered his head to avoid the creature's dread gaze.

Glaurung laughed dimly and said, "Is this how my once valiant opponent would greet me?  Poorly met, Hurin, I am disappointed." 

Hurin remained bowed and said, "I am unwilling to speak with you, be gone!"

Glaurung said, "Unwilling? Ha! Unprepared more likely, surely you must have known that we would have another dialogue together ere the end?"

"I guessed it," said Hurin as he looked up, "What do you want?"

"You are looking old, Hurin," said Glaurung, "Have the responsibilities of fatherhood taken their toll, or could it be too much for you that the little ones are making their own way in the world?"

Hurin intentionally yawned and said, "You are too predictable, beast; but I am in no humour to trade insults today or to indulge in intellectual wrestling, if this is all that you desire then fetch your tirade and have done."

"Older and wiser, very well I shall be brief," said the Dragon, "I have scanned the contents of your Orb and everything that has transpired since our last encounter is now known to me.  You cannot hide your thoughts from me, for as I said before ‘you will feel as your daughter feels.'  I must say I did not expect her to fall into her brother's arms, as she surely will, but I hoped rather that our pretty little Nienor would lead my master to the Halls of Menegroth or reveal the ways Doriath to him."  

Hurin laughed saying, "Ha! Then my enemy is disappointed?"

Glaurung retorted, "On the contrary he is very happy at this outcome, for you surely must see that the fulfilment of his curse is nigh, no?  It is for this reason that he permits them to live now in happiness for a while in this unblemished and mild weather.  Know this mortal, I am fully set and over-anxious to raze Brethil to the ground but my ever romantic master errs to patience and wants to give love a chance.  With this in mind, I have been permitted to offer you two choices: first, stay as you are and sit in the vain hope that you will not witness your children unite as sweethearts or second, return to your original state of gathering reports through myriad Orbs and maybe find news of your hapless wife.  Though whichever choice you take, be aware that I will be watching you ever and anon also, and this is non-negotiable, you shall enjoy the final strike on Brethil in my company; you have until Yule."

Hurin said straightway, "I choose the second evil."

Glaurung said, "I am taken aback that you would abandon your children so quickly; I have given you a month to decide, why not take it?"

"Their fate is beyond my control," said Hurin, "Yet, I know whilst Brethil stands my children are safe and that those lands will be valiantly defended, moreover I would have news of my Morwen if any is to be found."

The Dragon paused and turned his head aside, as though in pity, and looking back he said solemnly, "They will be destroyed, you know this; I deem also that they will destroy themselves in the process, in more ways than one."

"The future is unknown," said Hurin defiantly. 

"Some things ARE KNOWN," continued Glaurung, "Heed my words Hurin, and do not rebuke the honour of a truthful foe!  My master will not brook any resistance or defiance and this is why Brethil cannot stand.  It is his will alone that shall triumph; and it is his will that the curse shall play itself out whether you or I like it or not.  Believe me or no, Hurin, in my heart I was made for battle and I hope that is how I shall end my days; I too wish for glory and valour but if my lord demands that I play games of malice then it is what I must do."

"Truth or no; my heart is cold and I have made my choice," said Hurin.

"So be it," said Glaurung, "Until we meet again at the end," and with that the countenance of the Dragon faded from Hurin's view. 

Hurin sat in bewildered silence as the enormity of what had just happened sunk in; his first comprehension was that Nienor was gone and he immediately felt the loss, he questioned then if he had made the right decision.  He became disorientated as a flood of thoughts and words engulfed him; he felt sickly as of old before gaining mastery of the Orb and finally swooned under the dominance of this sensation.  He awoke after an undetermined span of time with a crashing headache; and though the sun was still high, he sat with his eyes closed for the rest of the day not daring to look at the Orb, lest its power overtake him again.  Remaining thus for many hours focussed Hurin's mind and at length he began to enjoy the feeling of detachment from the world beyond and the wicked ways of Morgoth; furthermore it aided his sleep, which lasted undisturbed through the early evening until to next morning.  His first sight upon waking was as usual the Orb but now it held no fear for him and the phantoms of his doubt dispersed in the early sunlight.  He thought turned now to food, for in his fainting he had missed yesterday's feed and he was famished; alas, he would have to wait some hours before his hunger was sated but he determined not to chance the Orb on an empty stomach in case nausea took hold once more.  Meanwhile, as the morning dragged on, he considered the context of the words of Glaurung and when at last the time came for Hurin to delve into the Orb, he sought north and west for any scrap of news about wife and did so for many months beyond.  That is not to say he abandoned his beloved children in his thought, for he prayed at least once daily to The Powers for their safekeeping and constantly he formed their likenesses in his memory.

It is been told elsewhere by the wise, that in the Yule of that year the son and daughter of the last Lord and Lady of Dor-Lomin had fallen in love; and thus it was, the anxieties of Hurin and the spiteful purpose of Melkor entangled and came to pass.  Yet these were happy days, for there was still peace across all the southlands and the fine weather of the old year continued into the new.  Now, by the following spring Turambar and Niniel plighted their troth and everybody in Brethil considered that their union of would be blessed, save one; for Brandir ever urged Niniel not to rush into this marriage.  Whilst it was true that he too dearly loved her, his motives in this were not wholly selfish; for as has been told, he felt great unease on first meeting Turin Turambar and deemed him a portent of doom.  Brandir relayed his concerns to Niniel but she told him that he worried needlessly, telling him that her betrothed and she had discussed the passing of their own shadows since finding peace in the secluded woods.  Brandir pressed his case by stating that Turambar was, of old, a fearsome warrior and foreboded that the shadow of his past would master him should he return to battle.  Niniel thanked Brandir for his ‘brotherly concern' but asserted that the sooner she and Turambar were wed, the better placed she would be to restrain his will to engage in warfare.  

In after days Brandir became forlorn, for he knew in his heart that he could not dissuade Niniel from her course and that his only hope of love was lost; however, his words reached her and she was troubled in mind.  When Turambar heard of Brandir's counsel he was wroth but rather than react hotly, as was his wont, he give Niniel this choice: either to do as her heart bids and marry as they had planned otherwise he would take to the wild again and wage war against his foe.  This also he added; should they be wed, he pledged never to go into battle again, even if evil came to their land, lest it be in defence of her alone.  So it was on the day of mid-summer NARN I CHIN HURIN, The Tale of Children of Hurin, reached its culmination and they were wed; there was joy in Brethil but the blot on Brandir's heart grew ever the blacker as the shadows lengthened.  Never afterwards, whilst the remaining years of Beleriand lasted, was there a fairer day than that of the wedding of Turambar and Niniel; for heavy clouds soon blighted the blue skies and the last of the summer was beset with fat and thunderous rain.  In this time no news, be it by Orb or by Orc, came to Hurin's ears of the union of his children; however on mid-summer's day an uncommon change did come to Angband, for in the deeps of that hell-pit there was heard the echoing of enthusiastic laughter, and Hurin recognised the rasping timbre of that screech and he knew that his enemy was much amused but at what he could not guess.  

Now, to any degree of certainty, all that is known of Morwen thus far has already been told.  She was a contradiction to all that knew her; for even as she aged and through her many privations, she never lost her air of nobility whilst always maintaining a measure of beauty, and hitherto nobody's will could ever overwhelm her keen determination when The Lady of Dor-Lomin set about a task.  Even now, beyond that sundrenched day, Hurin continued looking for her as the premature autumn came in cold, robed with a muddy grey-brown mantle.  His hope began to wane somewhat in these darkened and dismal days for he knew that she would need a better shelter than the wilderness could provide.  Hurin also knew, as did Mablung, that there were only a few places south of Ered Wethrin where free folk yet dwelt that could aid her; and even in spite of all this, the husband of Morwen never lost faith in her ability for endurance.  In addition, it subsequently became known to the wise in after days that she did indeed survive the encounter at Amon Ethir and despite her age, quickened by grief, she journeyed stealthily across the wide lands and many rivers of Beleriand into Brethil.  Melian and Galadriel were saddened by her plight but both marvelled at how she achieved this feat without leaving any trace or rumour of her movements, and the fortitude of ‘Mother Morwen' has long passed into the annals of Elven lore.

There came a day in late autumn when Hurin received news that would divert his gaze; for in his fruitless search for Morwen he would only direct his focus on the few Orbs situated west of the Narog, however on this day he discerned new voices.  After first noticing the scarce heard thump of many marching feet in that part of Beleriand, Hurin met sight of a hefty Orc General barking at an officer. 

"Your troops are too slow, Scum, hurry them up!  If we do not reach the Dragon-King by sundown then I will personally see to that..."  Hurin jolted out of concentration on hearing this for he realised that he had tarried overlong combing the western wilds whilst the ‘Dragon-King' apparently grew in power.  On resuming his surveillance Hurin heard, "...Understand?  Your troops came highly recommended; perhaps this has inflated their conceit?  I am unimpressed by their dispassion; go back to your whinnying girls and reiterate our orders, and remind them that tardiness will lead to frontline service in Brethil, go!"  

Presently, the Orb Bearer turned to the General and said, "Sir we are making good time, surely you would not recommend that ‘Ravenous Watch' should merely serve as arrow-fodder?"  

The General looked askance at the Bearer and said, "Are you questioning my command, Slime?"  And after a charged silence the General punched the Bearer's shoulder, then with a deep throaty laugh he continued, "Ha!  You are too deferential and that is why you are still a Bearer.  Never show respect to subordinates!  Ha!  What am I saying?  That is fine advice to give to an Orb Bearer, ha, ha, ha!"

The sound of The General's laughter faded as Hurin hastily redirected his gaze towards Brethil in the frantic pursuit for news of his children.  He flitted uselessly from Orb to Orb, as an inept conjurer seeking that missing but vital card in a loaded deck, until after a half hour he saw familiar faces engaged in battle.  He alternated between two affrays on the marches of Brethil, one lead by Dorlas and the other by Hunthor; and whilst both fought hardily with little loss, Hurin could not help but wonder why his son was not fighting with them.  His thought naturally turned to the worst and he feared that Turin was slain by some ill chance; but then again if this were so then his enemies would not resist the opportunity to gloat before him, either way Hurin needed an answer.  He remembered Morgoth's words, ‘Nothing will be hidden from you' and he considered the mode in which the Orb relayed information; it was here that Hurin determined to call upon Glaurung if he could, since it was only at these meetings when he could converse remotely.  Hurin closed his eyes tightly and girt himself, then with a concentrated yell he called upon the Dragon by name; he persisted unavailing for some time with a clear and loud, "Glaurung, Glaurung!"  

After a short rest he steeled himself again and shouted, "I, HURIN OF DOR-LOMIN, CALL UPON GLAURUNG THE MIGHTY, GREAT WORM OF ANGBAND; AND I DEMAND THAT HE ANSWER ME FORTHWITH!"  

Hurin was not surprised when the Orb responded with a shudder but he not expect the livid flames that ranged wildly across its glass face, and he did not presume that the Dragon would be so agitated at this summons.  Glaurung said, "How?  How dare you venture to beckon me at your own whim, speak mortal, what do you what?"

"Just one thing," said Hurin resolutely, "I know of your reinforcements and your assault on Brethil; tell me Dragon, does my son live?"

That boastful smile, typical of old, returned to Glaurung's face and he said, "It must be such a disappointment to have such a craven whelp for a son; one whom deserts his new found brethren at the first sign of, heat."

"Answer me plainly, Glaurung, and I will not bother you again!" said Hurin.

"That is twice now," said The Dragon to a silent Hurin, "Twice you have addressed me properly by my name; once just now and the other at your summons, I am glad that the years have tempered you with some respect.  Thus I will answer you plain but the bargain I will take also, and if you ever dare to whisper my name again without my bidding then I will pour out my malice double-fold, understood? Yes, your son lives." 

Hurin nodded but said no word; and at the last Glaurung said, "Well met again son of Galdor." 

The onslaught upon Brethil deepened with the first bite of winter and it soon became apparent to all factions that the woodsmen would be worsted and their homes overrun.  Those who watched these proceedings from afar waited expectantly for the arising of Turin Turambar; for it was the chief objective of Glaurung to snare him and Nienor Niniel and bring them before his master, and to this end he would employ ‘The Ravenous Watch.'  Now this breed of Orc was prized mainly for its cunning, strategy, and stealth; they were numerous but functioned in small units that could spread far across the arena of war.  To a greater degree they were fully autonomous and operated independently of the common soldiery; because of this they would often run foul of Orc commanders if their missions clashed.  The Ravenous Watch were so named because they vowed not to eat any enemy-flesh until their assignment was completed, also by law, they were not permitted to share the spoils of war with regular Orcs.  The influx of these ‘New Orcs' did not go unnoticed by the wardens of Brethil; and when it became known that they could be espied inland from the wooden bridge at Dimrost, only then did Turambar take up the Black Sword, Gurthang, once again.  Now as fierce and fell as The Ravenous Watch was, these Orcs were not apt to the woods; for they were trained in Angband and better suited to mounds, rocks and dirty plains, indeed their closest forest was Taur-nu-Fuin in the long-time burnt out remains of Dorthonion.  The charred sticks of the north were no equivalent to Brethil's lush trees, which in all Beleriand are most akin to the woods of Doriath.  So it happened that Glaurung's endeavour ultimately failed; for as is known, Turin Turambar was in his beginnings taught by one Beleg Strongbow, the most skilled in the ways of forestry and warfare.  Moreover, Turambar was not idle in Ephel Brandir whilst his colleagues fought marauding Orcs; he had organised the non-combatant villagers, instructing them in strategic defence and hand-to-hand combat, ever should the sentinels be overcome without.

Thus Turambar came with greater host than the Orcs had anticipated and they were routed by the Men of Brethil to the least and very last of them.  Before long new tidings came to the captains, for now a greater Orc host had already issued from Nargothrond and was in far sight of the river; therefore Turambar caused ‘The Dead Watch' Orcs to be hung from the trees that lined the banks of the Teiglin in a direct challenge to them.  Scores of enemies quailed at the sight of their presumed elite members displayed like carrion fodder on gibbets; furthermore, they became ensnared by several ambushes and the Orcs on that day knew that the Mormegil was returned, and the dread of him was upon them.  And even though they had little hope of victory and nobody foresaw it, the Men of Brethil won out; few Orcs survived to tell the tale of that battle but that mattered little, for the woodsmen heaped all the slain on bonfires and in a great burning they told Glaurung in the plainest terms that his day was lost.  The infuriated Dragon stood alone and defeated in the empty hall of kings; he knew that he would have answer for the wastage of a specialised company, but more than this, he had underestimated his foe and he realised now that he was blinded by his own vanity in aspiring to parade Hurin's children before Melkor, unbidden so by his lord.  Glaurung resolved that such stratagems were better left to the lawmakers and since he now found himself un-kinged he again took to himself the role of Melkor's vassal.  He was wholly aware that he alone would now have to raze Brethil to the ground; but he knew also that he would require much rest in order to accomplish this, therefore the Men of that land enjoyed peace for a season or two more.

The fame of the Men of Brethil spread far and wide, and the renown of their deeds grew in the telling; all eyes across Beleriand now looked to that land with increasing hope and respect, for peace had returned to the south.  Now, it is not known if in this time whether Morwen chanced her secret excursion towards Brethil; for it was plain to all that the Mormegil wielded the Black Sword there once more, and that name was held in high honour by any who spoke it.  Yet in the midst of optimism one of Morgoth's enemies remained subdued, since he already knew what the future held and could tell nobody of it; and by the late spring of the following year the day came that Hurin had long dreaded.  For Glaurung was risen again and he took control of the Orb of Thangorodhrim; but the worm did not, or could not, fully overthrow Hurin's mind as he had feared, indeed, Hurin perceived the Dragon's might, wrath and malice but he did not undergo it as of old, and for this small mercy he silently thanked The Powers with a prayer. 

Glaurung spoke, "So Hurin, we come to it at last; this is the day that the defiance of your son ends and the folly of Men will be revealed."

Hurin answered, "Since I have no power against you and my will wavers, I have no words." 

"Very well," said Glaurung, "Let us have at it!"

The Dragon burst forth from Nargothrond and greeted the morning sun with a high shot of jetted flame.  He left the great doors swinging behind him as he traversed an Orkish bridge which replaced the old one of stone, destroyed in Orodreth's day; his weight was such that metal twisted and wood creaked as he went, and the hastily built crossing almost gave way before he alighted on the other side.  It seemed strange to Hurin that Glaurung forsook the king's hoard and left it unprotected thus, but the Dragon was fey and ready to meet whatever now lay before him.  The crashing of Narog below compounded this sense of peril as Glaurung stopped for a moment to survey the desolate plain and consider his best course.  Perhaps the jeopardy lay in Hurin's heart, for he was only able to interpret sharp focus and single-minded determination from his mighty foe at that moment.  Looking, Glaurung recalled the location of the burning of his troops and those humiliating flames stung at his black heart and belly, therefore he strode apace headlong in that direction; he advanced with great fire and no living thing withstood his coming be it stalk, root or flesh.  Hurin was utterly dismayed by this action but alas he no longer had the resolve to voice his disgust and wept inside, besides such protestation would not have reached this fell creature for it was totally self-absorbed in bloodlust.  Gone now from Glaurung was any sign of intellect and Hurin could scarce believe that a beast blinded by rage such as this had the use of cunning words or even a sense of humour, wicked though it be; and for the first time since meeting The Great Worm of Angband, and despite all previous evil, Hurin truly feared him.

After the first day of travelling thus, reason once again mastered Glaurung's wrath and the ever canny beast relaxed, the more to conserve his strength.  It was not long before tidings reached Brethil that the Dragon was abroad and terrorising the land, and it seemed to Hurin that he tarried in his burnings to give fair warning to his foes or at the very least to cast down a challenge before them; for despite his now slowed pace Glaurung never diverted from his path.  However the closer to Brethil Glaurung got, the more he bought to bear and the longer he stayed awake.  Hurin was unable to rest whilst the Dragon was active, and this was the only influence of Glaurung that he could not vary; this state not only had a physical effect on his person but he detected a strange impingement on the Orb also.  Now, Hurin was never wont to overuse the Orb for any prolonged length of time, simply because this was too taxing; and for the twenty-seven years or so in Hurin's company it grew accustomed to his routines, in addition, howsoever perverted, perhaps living rock is not meant for extensive misuse.  Consequently: when Glaurung did rest, the gold within the Orb would burn brightly as glowing embers that eventually flickered out until all was wholly black, and after a few days the flecks were all but gone. 

There was one who watched the coming of Glaurung with both trepidation and relish; and when it became plain that Dragon would pass by and not assail Amon Rudh the Petty Dwarf, Mim, thought greedily about the treasure of Nargothrond.  For ever since his lengthy exile from Belegost, long before the coming of the sun, Mim's kin were among the first to delve in the location of Felagund's halls.  And though it is that his people were hunted to near extinction by Doriath's hunters, it was not until the Dwarves of mightier stock did commerce with Thingol that the Petty Dwarves were let be; all the same, these foraging people never contributed to the majesty and glory of Nargothrond under the Noldorin Kings.  Yet and all, ever did Mim's kin eye those halls with great jealousy and harbour a longing to return.  So now, Mim watched and waited in the secret fissures of Amon Rudh to see whether the Dragon would continue northwards or return to his stronghold when his evil was done.  Still, when Glaurung drew nigh to Brethil Mim's heart misgave him; for he too had heard the rumours that the Mormegil had returned to that land and he also knew him to be his friend of old.  In truth, Turin, or at least the memory of him, was the closest thing Mim had left to living kin since his son Ibun had indeed been killed when the treachery of the old Dwarf failed; but since he could not make amends in the face of a Dragon, Mim easily forsook his woe and allowed lusty greed to govern his existence.