The Eyes and Ears of Melkor by Chilled in Hithlum

Chapter 14 The Accursed Night

At length the Great Worm came within two leagues of Brethil; up until this point his course led straightway to the Crossings of Teiglin but now he halted for he was in doubt.  He recalled the route which Nienor's rescuers took when they carried her to Amon Obel and he deemed that the wet walls about Dimrost may be too treacherous to negotiate.  Moreover, he guessed that since there was no secret about his advance, then surely the Men of Brethil would lay cunning devices in his path to hinder his progress if he went that way; therefore he waited awhile before moving forward.  Now, ahead of him in a small copse at the forest eaves hid a frightened deer; it watched terrified as the Dragon drew to a standstill, and after a prolonged wait the nervous animal decided to run for it.  Glaurung had already marked the deer's location with his keen vision, as it cowered behind the leaves; but rather than seek to destroy it he decided to see what it would do.  The young doe flew at all speed southwards, staying as close to the edge of the forest as possible; suddenly a wild cat leapt out from behind, barely catching her, and immediately the she sprang onto some rocks in order to cross the now rushing Teiglin.  On the other side, the she continued her breathless flight and disappeared from the Dragon's view; he followed in that direction and saw her run down towards the high ravines, cut deep in the long ages by the river.  At length, the deer stopped at narrowest point and with a great leap it safely traversed the gap and ran into the southern clearing of Brethil Forest.  Glaurung now knew what course to take and turning aside he followed to deer down to the ravines, and at the tapered cleft he waited.  Heavy clouds crammed overhead filling the twilight air with thunderous electricity, but there was no rain to cool a Dragon‘s heat or quash his flames.  The Dragon lay motionless on the high ledge of Cabed-en-Aras, ‘The Deer's Leap', listening to the rushing of the waters of Teiglin below; he felt somewhat at ease here, for the sound of the rapids reminded him of Nargothrond but there was misgiving too, faint at first and indistinguishable.  Hurin also sensed his hesitation and at this he wondered much, since the Worm was never before wont to hold back once he held seemingly good ground.  Glaurung hardly stirred as he looked long at the chasm before him; all his reason told him that he could easily make the gap and the craving to burn gnawed at his throat, but still he delayed, why?  

His thought now turned to Hurin and he grew wrathful and remotely spoke to him, "What spell of doubt hast thou cast upon me, Hurin son of Galdor?  Could it be that some other aids you by impeding me?"  

Hurin said nought and feyly laughed; but the truth of the matter was that he did not possess magic, let alone enough to stop a Dragon, and that night he received no sign that any was done, save that of evil.  Alas for Hurin, his perceived insolence roused the Glaurung's wickedness and he spoke again to him, "Spell or no, your foolish laughter has spurred me on; watch now as your feckless children smoulder in my flames and see how they bring ruin to those in the refuge of their choosing!"

Accordingly, Glaurung rent the ground before him with his monstrous fore-claws until he attained firm footholds with which to spring forward from; he lit his way with a powerful blast, and flaming saliva drooled from his mouth igniting the floor below him.  The wall of the ravine rumbled as he tensed himself for the jump, unsettling many loose rocks which crashed about the dangerous waters beneath.  With a great pounce, Glaurung cast his huge bulk into the gorge and effortlessly caught hold of the firm loam on the opposite side; he then began the process of hauling the sagging, massive girth of his serpentine body over the ravine, amid much destruction to both of its walls.  At no time during Glaurung's adjournment at Cabed-en-Aras did he or Hurin notice any other living thing about the ravines of Teiglin.  At no time did they mark the coming of two stealthy night-time wayfarers along the perilous river that courageously scaled the cliff face opposite, and clung for life under its dark overhang.  At no time during the crossing of the Dragon did they hear the cries of one who fell to his death by means of a plummeting rock striking his head.  At no time did Glaurung expect the coming of one in wrath who fatally smote his putrid, dripping belly from below with a large and lethal blade.  And at no time in all Beleriand was there heard such a shriek since the confrontation of Melkor and Ungoliant at Lammoth ere the coming of the Noldor.  In his death throes, Glaurung's undercarriage heaved upwards rending his flesh as the pommel of the sword left its bearer's grasping fingers; and with mighty convulsions the remainder of the Dragon thrashed its way to the furthermost cliffside.  He twisted and flung about himself in agony, unable to reach or dislodge the bitter blade that voraciously held fast; until at last amid the carnage and flames there was silence.  However, there were tears of laughter and relief on the seat that lay embedded in the shag-packed central cone of Thangorodhrim as Hurin witnessed the unlooked for stroke against his foe; and beneath him the walls of Angband shuck with rage, but the tale of Glaurung was not yet through.

Some time later as the waning Dragon lay inert and hardly breathing, Hurin heard footsteps approaching the fallen beast; he recognised his son's voice hailing Glaurung in mockery and bidding him a swift death.  Hurin discerned a blow to his gut as Turin yanked out the sword from the belly of the Father of the Uruloki, which sent forth a column of black combustible blood that burnt Turin Turambar's right hand.  At his slayer's cry, Glaurung flickered open his sinister eyes and with all the malice he could muster he gazed so evilly upon Turin so that he fainted where he stood; to Hurin's horror the last sight he had of his son was one of a fallen valiant, prostrate at the side of his enemy.  Hurin quailed as the tremors of Angband shook his chair to such a  degree that the Orb clattered and dropped down a fraction in its brazen claws; he erroneously took as a sign that the Dragon was now dead but, once the quaking below had abated, he soon realised his mistake as he heard the slow rasping breath once more.  Indeed for the longest time, this was the only sound in the cold dark stillness; until again there was heard the muffled approach of running footsteps.  Glaurung was weakening fast, so Hurin could only barely make out the faint voice of a weeping woman and he could discern no words.  At length the Dragon opened his eyes for the last time and hailed the daughter of Hurin; he told her that the search for her brother was over since he now lay at her feet, and he congratulated her on the conception of their child.  Hurin's final sight of her was so loathsome to him that he wept at the very thought it; for at this final revelation, the spell of forgetfulness finally left Nienor and her father saw her pained expression as she was beset by past memories and harsh reality, then Glaurung died at last.

The Orb blackened completely for there was no gold left in it to catch the moonlight and Hurin sat utterly isolated and miserable in the dark.  At length, the caverns of Angband shuddered once again and he wished now that the tremors would take him crashing down, chair and all; the brazen rods actually bent out and started to loosen from the seat and the Orb nearly departed, being now precariously held by single points at each side.  But now instead of wrath, Hurin heard the sounds of riotous laughter and celebration and he realised that Morgoth's concern was not for Glaurung's wellbeing but rather for the fulfilment of his curse.  For this fact alone he would have pitied the Dragon, since to use a valuable asset in such a wasteful way brings dishonour to his memory; but this was the beast that brought ruin to his children and he hated him, and laughed at his disgrace.  And as happened with Nienor, a veil of deceit lifted from Hurin's eyes and the folly of his false hopes stung his heart; and that night for the last time, his tears unloosed and he wept for himself in the bitter night, until at last he fell asleep through total exhaustion.  The morning came bright and early, dazzling Hurin's already stinging eyes and causing his head to throb.  He came around slowly and his senses gradually returned to him.  In the light of day Hurin remembered the previous night and immediately thought of his children; he craned his neck to look upon the now drooping Orb in order to find out what had become of them.  This new position soon became most uncomfortable, but in desperation he persisted; at length he heard Orkish voices sensationalising about the night before.

"So the Dragon-King's dead then?" said the first.

"Killed in the night he was, done in by them forest men; chopped him to bits as I heard," said a second.

A third interrupted, "Then you heard wrong, since he cannot be pierced with axes or spears or arrows and I know that for a fact."

"He's right," said the first.

"Alright," said the second angrily, "If you're so clever, then what killed him?"

After a short pause the first said, "Don‘t know, maybe the Dark Lord took revenge for Ravenous Watch; after all he had it coming."

"Nah!" said the third, "He'd a done it ages ago, and why would he do it on the doorstep of the enemy?  That's daft; I think one of us should ask the boss."

The other two said in unison, "Go on then, it was your idea!" and as he left they laughed together and said, "Numpty!"

Presently, the third Orc returned and said, "He chewed us out for gossiping, but..."

"Well?" said the others expectantly.

"Well," said the third, "Turns out, by all accounts that the Worm was stabbed in the belly by the Black Sword as he crossed the ridges over the river.  But before he died he got the man, so we don't have worry about him any more," and he smiled smugly. 

"And?" said the second.

"And what?" protested the third with a grin.

The second Orc said, "I know that stupid smirk; come on, what else?"

"Apparently," said the third, "His bird came along and found him dead alongside old Glaurung.  Seems like she couldn't take it and legged it over the top, and drowned; here's the best bit..."

Suddenly an authoritative voice interjected and said, "Right you lot, that's enough..."

Just then, the brazen rods creaked and detached from Hurin's seat and went clanging down to the hard rocks of Angband below, and so ended the Orb of Thangorodhrim.  Hurin fell back aghast into his seat; it took him a moment to comprehend what had just happened, and what he had just heard.  The sense of loss for his Orb was profound and panic set in almost immediately, and he felt cut off from the outside world.  There were so many questions left unanswered: what now?