The Eyes and Ears of Melkor by Chilled in Hithlum

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Chapter 15 The Release of Hurin

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For many grim days Hurin sat in bitter loneliness on high Thangorodhrim, and for the first time since his imprisonment, he sickened; nevertheless he continued under the influence of the binding spell, hence remaining physically intact.  Fear and doubt gnawed at him, for he knew not for certain the true fate of his children; and since the departure of the Orb he was devoid of any news or whispered rumour.  In the days that followed he spent long hours mentally replicating that last conversion of the Orcs, until in the end his own dark thought blended with actuality and he could not confidently remember all that had been said.  However enlarged reports of the fate of Turin and Nienor quickly proliferated all over Beleriand, and Melkor soon knew all that had transpired beyond the loss of Glaurung; and when the facts were sifted through the distortion he was glad, and he gloated thereafter for many days.  He sneered smugly when he recalled the law of Mandos: that damnation would befall any siblings that brought forth life between them, be it born to the world or not.  And Melkor boasted, "Ha!  Truly my curse is now accomplished and the House of Hador is despoiled.  Only I could have contrived that the pious law of my siblings should bring ruin upon the children of my foe, who in their turn serve my greatest foes, my siblings.  I am Melkor, The Master of the Fates of Arda."  

Once a great evil has been fully achieved its perpetrator soon tires and craves a more thrilling pursuit.  Thus it ever was with Melkor and before long he grew restless again; and for long months after the Lord of Angband, wholly forgetting his victory, now brooded alone in his chamber, looking for superior foes to defeat.  And sure enough his sinister thought returned to Thingol and Melian, and it bent especially upon Turgon.  To this end he sent out spies to seek out the hidden ways of his enemies but they always returned unavailing.  Melkor sought in his heart for new counsel but found no solution; and since Sauron and Glaurung were gone, he turned instead to his High-Captain, Gothmog.  He said to himself, "After all, he has never once disobeyed me or failed in his duty."  So it was that the mighty Balrog answered his master's summons and stood before Melkor in that vast inner hall.

"How may I serve you My Lord?" said Gothmog, bowing low.

Melkor smiled, and gesturing with his hand he said, "Come and sit with me a while my friend!  It has been far too long since we last spoke together and I require your counsel."

"My counsel, Lord?" enquired Gothmog.

Melkor laughed, "Ha!  Do look so shocked old friend; to whom else should I turn in matters of war?"

Still surprised, Gothmog said, "My Lord, you flatter me but..."

"But?" said Melkor impatiently, "You dare to gainsay me when I beckon you here in friendship?"

"Forgive me, Lord" said Gothmog hastily, "I, I, that is; how may I offer you counsel?" 

"Hmm!" uttered Melkor, now thinking that it may have been an error to converse thus with an over-glorified soldier.  However after a short silence he continued, "Gothmog, you are a brilliant strategist in battle, and therefore my High-Captain; so I forgive you for being an inept counsellor.  But what you should understand, my dear old Balrog: counsel and strategy are one and the same.  That being said; I have some problems that I want you to put your military mind to, so that we might devise a strategy in the solving them."

"Ah!" said Gothmog, "Please say on, Lord!"

Melkor fingered his scar saying, "Whilst my adversaries wander freely in their hidden realms, Middle Earth remains unconquered.  I cannot, and I will not tolerate this; for as I said to my brother long ages ago, ‘This shall be my own kingdom; and I name it unto myself!'  Melian confounds me with a girdle of enchantment about Thingol's land; and even though I know where she skulks with her silver fox, I cannot assail her.  And the other, the dead-eye, Turgon; long has the memory of his glance in Valinor vexed me, and for far too long has he eluded me.  It is on him, of all my foes, that I would relish in applying my slow arts; yet, it is he who remains hidden from my sight.  Would that my winged Uruloki were full grown, they could seek him out; but I deem that his lands are guarded by the ones who notched my face."

"An impasse indeed, Lord," said Gothmog, "In such a situation I would use a ‘Rover' to gather intelligence." 

The Dark Lord said mockingly, "A what?" 

"A Rover, Lord," continued Gothmog calmly, "It is difficult to define because it is not any one thing in particular.  A Rover is one, or sometimes more, that is non-Orc and that has something to lose, or maybe to gain; a Rover must be independent and not assailed because it is followed in secret, and its actions are noted according to its motives.  I am sorry that I could not clarify my explanation in better terms My Lord."

"Nay Gothmog, it is I that should apologise to you," beamed Melkor, "That is fine counsel indeed; tell me, where would I obtain such a thing as this Rover?"

Gothmog said contritely, "That is just it: I do not know.  My usage of them has been mainly amongst Men; you know, family held hostage, false rumours of riches and such.  But your need is of High Elves and they are tricky customers to compromise, let alone to follow if magic is involved.  Besides, and begging your pardon, Rovers are not obtained; they just are.  You see Lord, in battle the majority of my work is done beforehand by observing the unguarded actions of a foe; and this is obviously best achieved when what is being studied is ignorant of your presence, this is why we follow a Rover at unawares.  At first nothing apparent may be yielded; but always after reassessing the given circumstances I have gleaned something useful."

"Ha!  I have such a one at my disposal," laughed Melkor, "O Unsung Balrog, how didst thou devise such simple genius?"

"It was not I, Great Master, but the Lord Sauron that first utilised the Rovers in the war against Dorthonion," said Gothmog.

Melkor snorted audibly at that name and said curtly, "Very good High-Captain, you may return to your duties."

Gothmog's counsel gave Melkor pause for extensive contemplation; for at the very first he knew that Hurin would be his best vessel as a Rover, but even after all these years he felt unready to face him.  He was as an adult that irrationally feared a spider and he knew not why, and much worse he was ashamed.  For indeed he was stayed by shame; shame for truth that Hurin told, and shame that this truth penetrated his dark heart and festered there.  Moreover, it perplexed him that he allowed no other who had the courage to contest with him to live or remain further unpunished; but he remembered the curse on Hurin's House and his desire to see it through to its bitterest end.  He questioned now why this was so, and wondered if he had wasted too much time in chasing down this feeble mortal.  "No!" he said, "He is friend to my foes, and therefore my foe; he is cunning of word and that is my province, he rejected my tuition and would not break, he is not to be trusted."  He cajoled himself, "Just let it go; let it scuttle off and be rid of it", but pride intervened, "Listen to yourself, who is the master here?  You know what is required; do it!"  And thus he went on for several days until at last his wrath conquered him and he set aside triviality.  Now, it so happened that the anniversary of the death of Glaurung was near and Melkor chose this day to commence with his plan, and until then he waited in silence.

The day came fair and bright but Hurin had no idea of its significance until he heard the familiar sounds of platform assembly below, which the Orc children would use to soak him.  This struck him as odd since he was only cleaned but two days ago, and for a moment he thought that he was losing his senses.  Indeed it is true that Hurin knew not the connotation of this particular day, or in fact that the years of his captivity now exceeded twenty-eight years; but he always found a way to mark the time of any given week, even more so since the loss of the Orb.  At length, the mechanical noise of the platform grew louder and Hurin prepared for his customary drenching; however, to his surprise, a great iron crown appeared bearing two beautiful white gems that exalted the light of the morning sun, and the prisoner of Thangorodhrim knew that his most hated enemy was come.  The Dark Lord appeared exactly as Hurin had remembered him, save that his eyes had yellowed somewhat; but to Melkor's eyes, his captive had aged considerably, and yet for one so old his eyes were as steel.

Melkor raised his head as he gazed down upon Hurin, and with a half smile he said, "I have been remiss, I promised that nothing would be hidden from you; and since the Orb is lost, I come now personally to fulfil my oath.  What wouldst thou know?"

"What doom has befallen my children?" said Hurin coldly.

"Doom indeed," said Melkor, "But surely you heard the rumours after the end?"

"Rumours are worthless," snapped Hurin.

"Not entirely, but I take your point," retorted Melkor, "I see that the years have not dimmed you resolve.  Very well, but do not question what I tell you for I shall not be repeating it; after all you have spurned my knowledge before and..."

 "I promise that I shall listen intently," interrupted Hurin, "Please continue."

 Melkor remembered their debates of old and laughed, "Ha!  Glaurung has trained you well;" and after pausing for a while he said, "Hmm Glaurung.  Your son murdered my closest ally and fell in the process, but he did not die..." 

"Then he is not dead?" blurted Hurin.

Aghast; Melkor said, "What did I say, just a moment ago, about questioning me whilst I speak?"

Hurin looked up sheepishly and said, "Not to, my apologies; but..."

Melkor repeatedly slapped his own forehead with an open palm saying, "But, what but?  There is no but; I speak and you listen, otherwise I go and you rot.  Last chance; what is it to be?"

"I speak and you rot; no, no, I listen and you speak," said Hurin nervously, "I am sorry, please..." 

Melkor shook his head in disbelief and said, "But, but; now where was I?"

After a lengthy pause and some more ‘buts' Hurin offered, "But he did not die..."

"That is right, he did not die; who did not die?" teased Melkor.

"My son," said Hurin reluctantly.

"Your son?" smirked Melkor, "Oh yes, your murderous son; but your daughter, his wife, thought him dead.  Of course you know this already, and you know then that you had a grandchild on the way.  That is right; I said had, for you see when Glaurung's spell lifted from her she remembered, everything.  Imagine, Hurin, her grief at the loss of a husband and brother at the same time, coupled with the realisation that she carried an abomination in her womb; it proved too much for the delicate flower so she ended her own life, and its, by leaping into the rushing waters below, where she finished up none can say.  As for your son; by the way what was his name, he had so many?  Do not answer!  He did not die, then; however, I love this part, there was one who loved your daughter, whom she called ‘brother', and he saw everything as we did, and when he afterwards spoke the truth your son unjustly slew him as a liar.  Only later did he learn of the wickedness of his folly; only then, and only once in his wretched life, did your son act justly by surrendering to that accursed blade of his."

After a stretched silence, Melkor said coolly, "Anything else?"

Hurin, desperately staying his tears said, "My Wife?"

Melkor said, "No, nothing; any more?"  

Hurin, half answering and half pleading said, "No more."

"Then we are done," said Melkor, "You may go."

"Done, go; what do you mean?" said a stunned Hurin. 

"You have paid for your insolence; my curse is complete and I am avenged," said Melkor, "Go!"

"You are letting me go, just like that?" quizzed Hurin.

"Just like that," said Melkor smiling as softly as his contorted face would allow, "The truth is, Hurin, I feel that I may have been too harsh with you at the first; but you see, a curse is a curse and it must run its course.  They called you Thalion, The Steadfast, did they not?  If only such endurance, such steadfastness, were shown in better cause, surely then would it have been otherwise rewarded.  But now, your little life is waning and I have no further use for you; of course, if you wish to work in the mines again then that can be arranged, hmm?"

"I will go," said Hurin.

"Oh good!" said Melkor insincerely. 

The Dark Lord chanted a spell of reversing; and the lit runes on the Seat of Sauron that had held Hurin captive for so long began to dim, until at last their sickly pallid light died forever.  Melkor extended his hand and bade Hurin to stand up, and in so doing the unsteady man collapsed into that immense and scorched palm.  Pain unthought of ripped through Hurin's limbs and he writhed in agony as his body moved freely for the first time in twenty-eight years; at length he was given a hot draught of Orc brew to limber him up, with a narcotic constituent to make him sleep.  He did not know how he had slept for; save only that an early sun now rose in the sky when he awoke and he was lay outside on a rug of knotted hair, Elvish he thought.  A familiar voice said, "We tried to place you in a bed but you would not have it; it must be all that night air you are use to."  Hurin rolled over to see the evil colossus stood by him arrayed in burnished black armour and an iron crown; how fragile he felt at that moment, how easy it would have been for Melkor to squash him underfoot, but that was not to be his fate.  

Melkor pointed towards a meagre bundle containing tatty rags and scraps of food, also their was a sturdy walking staff of black wood; and as though bestowing his former prisoner with a mighty gift he said, "Take now these things to aid you on your way.  My elites will see to it that you shall return to your homeland unmolested and there you shall be free at last.  I can say truthfully, Hurin son of Galdor, that it really has been a pleasure having you to stay at my humble home; farewell."

Hurin said nought since he ill trusted his enemy's bitter honey-dipped words; and though he scarce knew or the reason for his release, he took his freedom gladly and he walked unbowed ahead of the great host.  They came out of Angband to the ash ridden desert of Anfauglith that lay between Hurin and home; but he knew that nobody awaited him there, and that one coming thus arrayed would receive a scant welcome.