In our previous episode on the trials and tribulations that befell Túrin,
son of Húrin, due to the curse Morgoth had imposed upon the House of Hador,
we continued his tale until the destruction of the Kingdom of Nargothrond.
Yet this was not to be the end of the woe which was to be wrought upon Túrin, for
the honeyed words of Glaurung were to drive him far away from the one woman who could avert his
doom. Glaurung’s magic made Túrin think his mother and sister were suffering in Dor-Lómin. The scene
was set for a tragic and bitter end to the tale of the Children of Húrin as their father watched on.
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Following a long and arduous trek through the frozen wilderness of Beleriand in the harsh
winter, Túrin finally came to the land of his birth and found himself a stranger among his
people. The Easterlings had asserted their rule over Dor-Lómin, with Túrin’s people now becoming
the serfs of the region. Coming to his mother’s home, he found it to be a pale reflection of the
former dwelling of Húrin as Easterlings had sacked it. It was occupied by their
chief Brodda who had taken Túrin’s kinswoman Aerin as his wife. Having been informed that
his mother Morwen had made her way south with his sister Nienor in tow a year and three months ago,
Túrin was driven to immense anger and drew his black blade within the great hall.
In the blink of an eye, Túrin grasped the chieftain in his arm and placed
Gurthang to his throat. Only then was the deception of Glaurung revealed:
Morwen and Nienor had made their way to Doriath in search of the bearer of the Dragon Helm.
At that moment, as the deception faded in an instant, the cries of Finduilas could be heard
in a brutal pitch to the perpetually cursed son of the House of Hador, yet it would be
too late to upend the cruel dictates of fate. Túrin threw Brodda at the other Easterlings,
breaking the chieftain’s neck. A battle ensued within the hall, and Túrin slew
three more Easterlings in a heartbeat. The men of Dor-Lómin, who were enslaved for so long beneath
the cruel yoke of their oppressors, rose up, and with their aid, Túrin killed many Easterlings.
Túrin then left Dor-Lómin, and although the Easterlings hunted him, he could hide out the
brutal winter with a number of the men of his father’s former domain who had decided
to live as free men rather than thralls to the Easterlings. As Túrin turned to view the land of
his forefathers one final time, the plumes of smoke rising from Dor-Lómin indicated that in
a final act of defiance, Aerin had set the Great Hall on fire and ended her life in the process.
One of the men of Dor-Lómin explained that Túrin had misjudged his kinswoman Aerin’s
patience for weakness. “Many a man of arms misreads patience and quiet. She did much
good among us at much cost. Her heart was not faint, and patience will break at the last.”
When the snow melted, Túrin, now at a crossroads and uncertain of what course
to take, came upon the much-depleted men of Haleth within the Forest of Brethil.
Following multiple encounters with the forces of Angband, they had been significantly reduced
in number and were so few to now mainly reside within a bare wooden stockade named Ephil Brandir
under their liege lord Brandir, son of Handir. Devastated though they may have been, the Men
of Brethil were far from a broken people, and some of the woodsmen who lived within the Ephil Brandir
continued to strike against Morgoth by hunting his Orcish warbands. As Túrin made his way through the
forest, he heard a confrontation of man and orc and quickened his pace to lend his aid. A small
band of men had been trapped by a much larger orcish rabble and would be slain to a man in their
current predicament. Túrin began to make a great noise as if to indicate a large group of men were
on their way to reinforce the weary defenders. Then he uttered a cry to initiate the charge.
When Túrin emerged from the treeline with Gurthang in hand, his appearance caused most
of the Orcs to take flight, with the remaining being chased off by the surviving men of Brethil.
However, the victory was fleeting for Túrin, as he enquired about Finduilas and their leader
Dorlas relayed the sad tale. Having followed the progress of the slow-moving Orcish force
which had come from Nargothrond, the men of Brethil conducted an ambush,
and as the orcs were assaulted, they began to slaughter their captives. For Finduilas,
a particularly brutal end was envisaged by her captors as they fastened the daughter
of Orodreth to a tree using a spear. Her final words were to tell Túrin of her resting place.
As a result, they buried her in a mound upon a hillock at the Crossing of Teiglin, and
when Dorlas and his company brought Túrin to the mound, he broke down into such inconsolable grief
that they believed him to be dead. At this point, the men of Brethil realized that the Black Sword
himself had saved them, and they then brought him back to the Ephil Brandir. Their Liege Lord
Brandir, despite the reservations he maintained due to the curse which lay upon the shoulders of
the man brought before him, still tended to Túrin, and he woke once more in the spring.
The courage of his forebears was awakened in Túrin, and a new optimism for his future with it.
“All my deeds and past days were dark and full of evil. But a new day is come. Here I
will stay at peace, and renounce name and kin; so I will put my shadow behind me,
or at least not lay it upon those I love.” From that day, Túrin decided he would now
dwell within the Ephel Brandir and take a new name - Turambar or Master of Doom.
He set aside Gurthang and would instead fight with the spear or bow as he continued to hunt the Orcs
and defend the mound of his beloved Finduilas, which came to bear the name Haudh-en-Elleth.
This Mound of the Elf Maid came to be an area much feared by the warbands of Morgoth,
who would only tread upon it in great numbers and even then suffer dire casualties at Túrin’s hand.
In Doriath, however, word had long since reached the Kingdom of the fall of Nargothrond.
Many within the Girdle believed that the Túrin lay among the slain but hesitated to investigate
due to the presence of Glaurung within the Halls of Felagund. This infuriated Morwen, who worried
about her son’s fate, whom she had entrusted to the elven king Thingol, who would not risk his
people to uncover his current whereabouts. Despite the urging of Melian not to leave the Girdle,
Morwen would not be stopped. Leaving Nienor within Doriath, she set out to find her son.
Thingol would not have her dragged back to the Kingdom as it was not his way, so instead,
a company of battle-hardened marchwardens with Mablung at their head was sent out
to follow and protect the wife of Húrin. Once she reached the Sirion, a wide and swift river,
Mablung had to reveal himself and offer his aid, as Morwen did not know how to cross.
As the company began to cross at the Twilit Meres, another rider was spotted: Nienor had
also left Doriath, unwilling to have others risk their lives while she remained safe. Despite
an argument between mother and daughter, Nienor would not be swayed, so she joined the expedition,
seeking out the truth of Túrin’s fate and that of the Kingdom of Nargothrond. When they finally
reached the river Narog, Mablung led a company of a score of Elves to ford the river. However,
Glaurung was aware of their presence and drove off all but Mablung as he emerged from Nargothrond.
The latter evaded detection by hiding under a rock and waiting for the dragon to pass over the rocky
outcrop before fording the river. Unfortunately, the remaining 20 Elves tasked with protecting
Morwen and Nienor looked upon the dragon’s might and bade their wards to mount and flee.
An ill wind blew the vapours of the dragon across the fog-strewn plain, which drove the horses to
madness, separating the company as they lost control of their mounts. In the chaos of the
retreat, Nienor’s horse stumbled, throwing her to the ground, and she decided then to return
to the hill upon which they had initially been camped, hoping Mablung would return.
Having reached the summit where the fog was at its thinnest, Nienor was surprised by the
appearance of Glaurung, who immediately caught her gaze, allowing him to use his powers to bend
her will to him. The dragon then besmirched her brother’s name, claiming he was little more than
a coward who abandoned the womenfolk to the orcs, and Nienor reacted with an outburst,
which revealed her identity. This caused Glaurung to laugh, and with the utmost cruelty of purpose,
he took from the daughter of Húrin her memory as all grew dim to her, and she collapsed.
Meanwhile, Mablung had explored the Halls at length and, fearing the return of Glaurung,
left the Halls. During the crossing of the Narog, he was spotted by the great drake. However, the
power expended in breaking the will of a member of the House of Hador had left the dragon weary.
Instead of killing Mablung outright, he bade him make his way to the hilltop to see what had become
of his charge. Mablung made with all haste to the Amon Ephir as Glaurung returned to his horde.
When the elf arrived, he found Nienor near comatose, but when he took her hand,
she stirred and allowed him to lead her away from the hilltop. Left with little choice,
Mablung brought Nienor eastwards, although she remained unresponsive and soon fell and lay still.
Hope was returned to Mablung when three of the company came upon them and granted him aid.
The journey was a slow one due to Nienor’s condition, however, the farther they drew away
from Nargothrond, the more strength returned to her. After many days of travel, they came
to the western border of Doriath near Teiglin. Taking a rest before crossing into the Girdle,
they were set upon by a band of Orcs, and Nienor fled into the forest. Mablung was unable to find
her despite his valiant efforts and returned to Doriath with grief in his heart. He was absolved
of all blame for the matter, as Melian stated, “You did all that you could, and none other among
the king’s servants would have done so much. But by ill chance you were matched against a power too
great for you, too great indeed for all that now dwell in Middle-earth.” Despite this reassurance,
the guilt of the loss of Morwen and Nienor remained a heavy burden, and for three years,
Mablung ranged from the Ered Wethrin to the Mouths of Sirion fruitlessly in search of his charges.
Mablung would never find Nienor despite his unceasing efforts.
In fact, the curse of Morgoth was to reunite her with her brother Túrin. A brutal and heart-rending
end to our tale is on the way, and in the next video in this series will cover the
final chapter of the story of the children of Húrin and their great foe, the dragon Glaurung.
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