Stigmas by Robinka  

Agarwaen

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.