Stigmas by Robinka

Saeros (...) had long begrudged to Túrin the honour he received as Thingol's fosterson; and seated opposite to him at the board he taunted him. (...) Then Túrin in great anger took up a drinking-vessel, and cast it at Saeros; and he was grievously hurt.

~~*~~

If I may ask, why you are staring at me like that, Saeros? Why are your eyes so full of hate?

Eat, please. You ought not to watch if my miserable presence offends thee. Do not bother yourself too much. I shall sit at the other side of the table.

You do not have to answer. Your mouth is full of food. You are laughing... What is so amusing that you find it hard to breathe? Be careful though. Do not spill the wine.

Shall I pass you another glass? No...? Why, pray tell?

I told you to be careful.

Chapter End Notes

Many thanks to LydiaB for beta reading and to Rhapsody for help :)

Túrin, Beleg, Gwindor, Finduilas, Nienor and Saeros belong to J.R.R. Tolkien.

All quotes: The Silmarillion, “Of Túrin Turambar”, Unfinished Tales, “The Tale of the Children of Húrin”. This series was written before the release of "The Children of Húrin".

Agarwaen, “Blood-stained” was the name Túrin gave to himself when he came to Nargothrond.
Gorthol, “Dread Helm” was the name that Túrin took as one of the Two Captains in the land of Dor-Cúarthol.
Mormegil, “The Black Sword” was the name given to Túrin as captain of the host of Nargothrond.
Neithan was the name Túrin gave to himself among the outlaws, translated as “The Wronged” (literally “one who is deprived”).
Faelivrin was the name given to Finduilas by Gwindor.

1. Son of Húrin (gluttony)
2. Neithan (pride)
3. Gorthol (wrath)
4. Agarwaen (envy)
5. Mormegil (sloth)
6. Turambar (lust)
7. Túrin (greed)

"If I stayed beside you, love would lead me, not wisdom," said Beleg. "My heart warns me that we should return to Doriath."

"Nonetheless, I will not go there," said Túrin.

~~*~~

We have come to the end.

The choice is mine to make, and nothing you say or do now will make me change my mind. You shake your head in disbelief...? Yes, you heard me correctly. Do not treat me as if I were a stubborn boy. I will not return, whether you approve of it or not.

If our feet are not meant to follow the same road again, let us say, ill fate, my friend. Will you not shake my hand?

Fare thee well. You may say I am a fool, but I am not the only one.

But as he stood, finding himself free (...) he looked down on Beleg's face. Then Túrin stood stone-still and silent, staring on that dreadful death, knowing what he had done.

~~*~~

What ill path led you here?

Could you not see that love blinded you, my brother? I release you from the bond of friendship undone when wrath was the only thing I could offer in return. Who now dares to believe that fate lies in our bare hands?

I realize that there will be no truce, even if sorrow overcomes horror. My heart is bleeding with your immortal blood, and I shall never dwell in peace again.

Death shall become my dearest friend, for naught but forgiveness comforts, and there is, in the whole world, no greater hate than mine!

But Gwindor sat in dark thought; and on a time he spoke to Finduilas, saying: “(...) A doom indeed lies on him, as seeing eyes may well read in him, but a dark doom. Enter not into it! And if you will, your love shall betray you to bitterness and death. (...) His right name is Túrin son of Húrin.”

~~*~~

Whispers like ghosts kept creeping in the dark when Gwindor's passion turned into dubious envy. His dreams passed away like clouds after the rain and he buried his affection in a shallow grave of unnecessary warnings. How eager a listener you were, my fair Finduilas, so easily putting faith into everything he said.

Can he tell you where the truth lies?

I wish he had spared you his bitter words, spoken in a flush of folly. Yet I know that every breath adds to his suffering since he has realized he will never be a tear drop on your face.

And while he was yet held by the eyes of the dragon in torment of mind, and could not stir, the Orcs drove away the herded captives, and they passed nigh to Túrin and crossed over the bridge. Among them was Finduilas.

~~*~~

My eyes are heavy. My heart is beating slowly, as if it were ice-bound. But from afar, I can hear you calling my name. Where are you? Why are you running from me? Did I not tell you, have no fear for you can trust me? I am no danger. Please, stop for a moment so I can reach you. Do not run away.

My heart is heavy. My eyes see nothing except for two blazing pupils that spread hate and threat. If I could move, if I could hold your hand...

A hissing voice is awakening me to silence.

Níniel (...) learned that she was none other than Nienor daughter of Húrin of Dor-lómin, ere her forgetfulness came upon her, and that Turambar was her brother, Túrin son of Húrin.

~~*~~

Talk to me softly. There is something very familiar in the sweetness of your skin, despite the mystery hidden in your eyes. Tell me your name. Or should I name you to make you mine?

I name you by trailing my fingers down your neck. I name you by claiming your lips until you can breathe no longer, flushed and flustered, my beautiful stranger. You are a riddle I desire to discover, tenderly revealing all your secrets.

Too long have I struggled with remorse. Wipe away my guilt, and I will name you passion and love, which I long for.

Then Túrin set the hilts upon the ground, and cast himself upon the point of Gurthang, and the black blade took his life.

~~*~~

Forgive me, Beleg, Faelivrin, Gwindor, for I have sinned.

Kneeling, utterly broken by shame, I look back upon my life, the life of a sinner. The roar of water mutes everything, even my own dreadful thoughts. Can you hear me? My companion in crime, forever stained with the blood you have always drunk so greedily, listen to the words of a cursed soul.

I am no longer a man worthy of forgiveness. Those who could have granted me their compassion died at my hand or by my fateful deeds.

Hail, Gurthang! Will you slay me swiftly?

Aye, Túrin, I will.