Túrin, Part 3 by firstamazon

Túrin, Part 3

Túrin’s life is marked by tragedy after tragedy. After killing his best friend—perhaps lover, depending on the interpretation of the text—and depleted of all willpower, Túrin was as one dead. If it were not for Gwindor, who with renewed strength helped him bury Beleg and flee the dangerous forests of Taur-nu-Fuin, he would have probably been recaptured by the Orcs. A curious detail from the Book of Lost Tales says that, by the time this happened, Túrin’s hair was already turning to gray despite his young years—most likely because of his many woes.¹

As the year waned and winter approached in the northern lands, they walked westward over the River Sirion. Túrin was still grief-stricken, and neither did he speak nor show any opinion about the path they took. When they finally arrived at the pools of Eithel Ivrin, Túrin drank from its crystalline, pure waters and awoke from his madness.

There he made a lament for Beleg, "Laer Cú Beleg," or the Song of the Great Bow, and Gwindor gave him Anglachel, which he said also mourned its fallen master. It is also at this moment that Túrin learns of Gwindor’s story and inquires about his father. Gwindor tells him that Húrin’s name was heard in Angband, and it was said that a curse was laid upon him and his kin. This is the first time that Túrin finds a hint of confirmation that his family is indeed doomed.²

From the Ivrin, Gwindor took Túrin to his home in Nargothrond, where Orodreth ruled. Once they were spotted by Elven scouts, they were taken as prisoners, but there Finduilas Faelivrin recognized Gwindor, even maimed and changed as he was, who had been her betrothed. There Gwindor vouched for Túrin, saying he was a great friend of Beleg Cúthalion of Doriath, but Túrin stopped the Elf from giving his real name, calling himself Agarwen (which means "Blood-stained" in Sindarin).

The Nargothrond Elves didn’t question him further and welcomed him into their realm, where he dwelt in honor.³ Anglachel was reforged and became Gurthang ("Iron of Death"), and for his exceeding skills⁴ with the sword and its black edges that shone with a strange light, he became known as Mormegil ("Black Sword"). In earlier versions of the text, the sword already shows sentience, for it "leapt in his hand of its own lust, and it is said that at times it spake dark words to him."⁵

The Elves of Nargothrond said the Mormegil couldn’t be killed except for an arrow from afar, so they gave him a Dwarvish mail coat and a golden mask, which caused fear and made his enemies flee before him. It was because of his valor against the Orcs that Túrin gained the hearts of the people of Nargothrond⁶ and Orodreth’s favor and was admitted to his council.⁷

But Túrin didn’t like how the Elves conducted warfare, always using stealth, and he began inciting the people of Nargothrond to come forth and face their enemy in open battle and pursuit. Gwindor, however, opposed him, for his experience had taught him that the combined forces of Elves and Men was not enough to contain the power of Morgoth, and they could only hope for survival if they lived in secrecy until the Valar came to their aid.⁸

The text is clear about Túrin’s whim to make open battle and gain small victories and glory, even if they were short-lived: his Mannish spirit urged him to confront his fate rather than wait for Doom to find him. Gwindor disagreed with him vehemently during the council sessions, but Túrin, in the end, convinced even Orodreth of his urge to fight openly and push the enemy back.

Such as it was that Túrin became Orodreth’s chief counselor, advising him in all things. And, in that time, Nargothrond started making new weapons and forsook secrecy. Túrin advised them to build a bridge over the Narog from the Doors of Felagund without knowing that this would indeed call his Doom upon them all.

Because of his fair face—with dark hair and gray eyes—and the old speech of Doriath he used, the text calls Túrin the most handsome of the Mortal Men in the Old Days and describes his way of talking and walking as resembling those of the Noldorin race. He was courteous to all and, since he started living in Nargothrond, less grim,⁹ and the Elves named him Adanedhel, the Elf-man, and all hearts turned to him.

Given that he was no longer a fighter and for always speaking against Túrin in the councils, Gwindor fell into dishonor. Finduilas’s heart also turned away from her old betrothed toward the Man who now held the most prestige. Although early versions of the draft say that Túrin believed he loved her back,¹⁰ that changed in The Children of Húrin, where it is said that Túrin knew nothing of Finduilas’s infatuation, so he neither returned nor encouraged it. He took pleasure in Finduilas’s company because she "reminded him of his kindred and the women of Dor-lómin in his father’s house."¹¹

This is a reference to his childhood memories of his own father and of Lalaith, the sister who died still very young. Not, of course, of his mother Morwen, who gave him his dark hair and pale-skinned complexion. Túrin explicitly tells Finduilas that he wished he "had a sister so fair,"¹² which points out he found she was beautiful but felt nothing for her romantically. In any case, Finduilas started to seek Túrin out even when Gwindor was not with them. Her love for him grew, and Gwindor resented the Man for it, and their friendship became strained.

Believing that Gwindor was mad at him for their opposing political positions, Túrin misread the situation. He also believed that Finduilas’s spirit waned because of the fear Gwindor instilled in their hearts—and not because she was in love with him. So although Túrin loved Gwindor as the one who had guided and saved him, and also pitied him for his ailments, he clearly misinterpreted everything.¹³

Not that it changed anything for the three of them, for Túrin’s mind and heart were not in the present but still clung to the past: the pain of Beleg’s death was still too near for him—something that even Finduilas perceives as she gives him yet another epithet: Thurin, the Secret.¹⁴ This name only appears in The Children of Húrin, and it’s not mentioned in any other versions of the legendarium. Túrin tries to speak to both of them without knowing the full depths of their hearts, creating even more dissent. Parallel to that, he continued encouraging the Nargothrondrim Elves to take offensive action against the enemy.

Feeling troubled by Túrin’s presence, Gwindor spoke to Finduilas about it, and in his speech, he admitted that she could love whom she wanted because he was not fit to wed her anymore.¹⁵ But with some short-sightedness—or because Morgoth’s curse was already in action—he revealed that Túrin was in fact the son of Húrin and spoke of the doom that was laid upon that house. Gwindor reminded Finduilas that they were not Beren and Lúthien—that is, they could not hope to be united as the other two had been, beyond death—and that it was not fitting for the Elder and the Younger Children of Ilúvatar to get involved.

When Finduilas asked Túrin why he had lied to her about his true identity, Túrin was enraged with Gwindor, thinking that, by revealing his name, he had awakened the dormant doom that Túrin would have kept hidden. Gwindor answered that the doom lay in himself, not in his name—which is not, in fact, true. The text says that only after Morgoth learned who the Black Sword really was that he intensified his attacks in Nargothrond, bringing it to ruin. But we will get there shortly.

Because it is at this point where facts change a little. In The Silmarillion, it is said that once Orodreth learned of Túrin’s real heritage, it was when the Man gained more power and position in the king’s council, and thus Túrin started to change the way Nargothrondrim Elves made war.¹⁶ It is a considerable change since, in The Children of Húrin,¹⁷ it is implied that Túrin spent some years waging open war in Nargothrond before Morgoth focused his might in that region, while in The Silmarillion, things seem to have happened in a shorter span of time.

Be that as it may, the result is the same: rumors of the Black Sword reached far and wide to Thingol in Doriath—who had as guests Morwen and Niënor, Túrin’s mother and sister, recently arrived from Dor-lómin—and, as mentioned above, to Morgoth himself. In the spring of 495 of the First Age, and five years since Túrin had lived in Nargothrond, Gelmir and Arminas, two Elves of the people of Angrod who dwelled with Círdan (since the Dagor Bragollach¹⁸ or the Nirnaeth Arnoediad¹⁹, depending on the version), came bearing messages from the Shipwright to Orodreth.

The messengers were clear that a message had been sent to Círdan by Ulmo himself: to take shelter indoors and toss the stones of the bridge in the river so that the "creeping evil" may not find the Felagund’s gate. That is an interesting choice of words, for though the messengers spoke of how great forces of Orcs were gathering in the north, there was still no word that Glaurung was ahead of the host—the dragon would only be released that autumn, devastating from Eithel Ivrin in the north to the Talath Dirnen, the plane between Narog and Teiglin.

The moment of fighting arrived, and Túrin rode beside Orodreth instilling courage in the Elves, but they were vastly outnumbered. They were defeated in Tumhalad, Orodreth was killed, and Gwindor was wounded to death. Túrin saved Gwindor from the wreckage, but it was too late for his old friend. Before he died, Gwindor, perhaps with a little foresight, perhaps, said that Túrin should return in haste to Nargothrond and save Finduilas, for only she stood between him and his doom. And he, as we all know, was not wrong.

Túrin returned to find the sack of Nargothrond was complete. There, he learned that the bridge he urged the Elves to build was an evil deed, for it was how Glaurung came to cross the gates and enter the city. He slashed his way through the Orcs to reach the women who were taken captive, but Glaurung blocked his way.

There the dragon spoke to him and Túrin, ever brave and fearless, stared head-on into the dragon’s eyes, falling into his spell. Perhaps it is the mythical similarities between Túrin and the hero Sigurd that makes this moment so powerful and one that certainly sticks with the reader. Even as Glaurung said that Túrin's mother and sister were slaves in Dor-lómin and other evil things, the Man was as one turned to stone, and he could not move nor speak.

So it was that, when the sack of Nargothrond was complete and the enemy withdrew, taking the captives with them, Finduilas saw Túrin and called to him. But he was under Glaurung’s spell and was not released from it until she was far away. Once he was released, however, Túrin even tried stabbing Glaurung in the eyes but failed, and the dragon, in his utter malice, let him go, urging him to go back to his family.

Believing the words of the dragon, Túrin departed in frantic haste to Dor-lómin, unaware that Morwen and Niënor had left those lands and were living in Doriath for a year—and fate, or Morgoth’s curse, would play yet another trick on Morwen’s children that day. Túrin also believed when the dragon told him that if he stopped to save Finduilas, he would be too late to save his family. Thus, another sad chapter of Túrin’s life was carved in stone as he made the way forty leagues to his old home without stopping.²⁰

In the Book of Lost Tales,²¹ Finduilas watched the ransack with Túrin when the Orcs attacked, and she died with an arrow that pierced her eye while he fought. In later versions, we know that Finduilas and the other captives were carried to the woods of Brethil, and there they are killed: the Orcs spear Finduilas against a tree, and it is the Men of Brethil who find and bury her.

So Finduilas is murdered while Túrin ran in the opposite direction of Brethil, towards the Pools of Ivrin, where he had once been with Gwindor. Twenty-three years had passed since Túrin had left Dor-lómin, and at age thirty-two,²² with the first ice of winter, he returned to find his home empty, and the land, tongue, and people changed. There he learned of how Morwen and Niënor suffered because of the Easterling Brodda, who invaded the land and took away all of her goods.

He learned of those things with his old childhood friend, Sador Labadal, although neither recognized the other at first. Labadal couldn’t tell Túrin much, for he knew little, so Túrin barged into Brodda’s hall, grabbed him by the hair, and spoke to the one he had taken forcibly for wife, Aerin, Húrin’s kinswoman. Aerin told Túrin, then, that his mother and sister had fled for Doriath for the way had been clear because of the Black Sword who defended the south and that they went looking for him.

Glaurung’s spell upon Túrin lost its power, and he saw then what the dragon had done to him. His wrath was great, and in his rage, he killed Brodda and many of the Easterlings that were in the hall. Labadal was mortally injured and also died there. As for Aerin, she bade him leave and not return unless it was with greater strength of arms, for he would be hunted down. So Túrin fled with some remnants of the old people of Dor-lómin, and they took him to a shelter where he hid until the snow stopped falling.

When it did, Túrin retraced his steps towards the Pass of Sirion and away from his childhood home, where he had brought only pain to his father’s people. He thought that if his mother and sister were safe in Doriath, then he would not seek them in fear that the shadow he carried over his head would fall over them, too.

He arrived in Brethil just in time to see the woodsmen being surrounded by Orcs and went to their aid. A little fun detail in The Children of Húrin that was also published in the Unfinished Tales says that Túrin jumped from the trees, pretending that an army was behind him, and that the Orcs, seeing first him and his sword, fled in haste. 

After a month since the sack of Nargothrond,²³ he learned that these were some of the Men of Brethil, of the people of Haleth who lived in Ethel Brandir, deep in the forest, and that Brandir was their lord. He asked them about Finduilas, and Dorlas, their leader, told him about her fate and showed him her burial mound, Haudh-en-Elleth, the Mound of the Elf-maid.

Once he knew what happened, Túrin fell, prostrated, before the mound and laid as one dead. Dorlas then realized that he was the Mormegil that Finduilas had cried for when she died. So they carried Túrin back to their village, and once Brandir saw who it was, he knew that Túrin would be the end of their people. It is such a sad portent, but it would prove to be true, nonetheless. 

Brandir healed Túrin for he was gentle of heart and knew the arts of healing. At the beginning of spring, Túrin awoke and decided he would put his name and family behind and would live in Brethil in peace. So he called himself Turambar, Master of Doom, from that day forth. In the Book of Lost Tales, Túrin adopts this name much sooner, when he faces Glaurung (then Glorund) over the treasure of Nargothrond.²⁴ It has been changed later to better fit with the narrative and the many occurrences in Túrin’s life since he left for Dor-lómin, and I think it’s much more effective in this later version.

Túrin put down Gurthang and didn’t carry it to battle anymore, favoring bow and spear, but he couldn’t forget his past and grievances. He kept fighting the Orcs and not suffering them to use the Crossings of Teiglin or come near the Haudh-en-Elleth. Dorlas was the only one who knew Túrin’s true identity, which Túrin had begged to be kept hidden.

Even though he changed his name, fate laughed at him again, for he didn’t know that Morwen and Niënor were not, as he thought, in Doriath any longer. There is a whole chapter in The Children of Húrin dedicated to their journey from Doriath, where they were supposed to remain, to Nargothrond. It is told that once Thingol learned that the Mormegil was indeed Túrin and that he may be in danger because of Glaurung, Morwen decided she would go looking for him. She had told Niënor to stay behind, but her daughter disobeyed her and followed the party led by Mablung against the will of the Marchwarden.²⁵

Thus it was that the company from Doriath went to Nargothrond seeking news of the fallen kingdom, and Mablung commanded ten riders to keep watch over Morwen and Niënor on the hilltop of Amon Ethir, close to the Doors of Felagund. Even though nobody saw him, Glaurung lurked in the shadows and was aware of the Elven spies. While Mablung went into Nargothrond seeking news of Túrin, Glaurung drew near Amon Ethir and prevented Morwen and Niënor from fleeing back to Doriath as they were bidden. It is said that Morwen, mounted on a horse, vanished in the mist of Glaurung’s breath, crying for Niënor, and disappeared.

As for Niënor, her horse threw her down, and she found herself lost and alone in the mist, so she headed back to the hill to wait for Mablung—and there she met Glaurung’s eyes, and in her foolhardy courage, revealed to him that she was another child of Húrin’s line. Glaurung dragged her into his will, and Niënor fell into a spell of forgetfulness: "she knew nothing, and heard nothing, and remembered nothing."²⁶

When Mablung came from the wreck of Nargothrond, Glaurung sensed his presence and told him to haste towards his charge, who stood as one frozen. Mablung led her by the hand, and she allowed it; if he let her hand go, she would stay still. They walked like that until they reached the western border of Doriath, when they were attacked by Orcs. Afraid, Niënor ran away from the company and into the forest. The Orcs chased her and the Elves after them, but she outran them all. The Orcs were slain, but Niënor was lost. Mablung returned to Doriath empty-handed, knowing both Morwen and Niënor were beyond his reach. For three years, he searched for them, but no news came to Doriath about their fates until much later.

Fate, indeed, or Morgoth’s malice, wanted Niënor to be found by none other than Túrin, who went by the name of Turambar. The men of Brethil whom he led found Niënor laying over the Haudh-en-Elleth after wandering alone in cold and hunger through the forest. Túrin had thought at first the spirit of Finduilas had come to haunt him, but one of his men cried to him that the maiden was still alive.

Moved by pity, he took Niënor into his care without knowing who she was, for she had forgotten speech. When Niënor awoke, she recognized that Túrin was the one she "had sought in the darkness"²⁷ and was comforted. But as he asked for her name and she wept, for she could not give one, he called her Níniel, Maid of Tears, and so she was known henceforth.

Before they reached Ephel Brandir, Niënor caught a fever. Brandir cared for her health, but she would only be comforted by Túrin’s side. She slowly recovered, and the women in Brethil had to teach her how to speak again, and she was delighted to learn. She would go to Brandir to ask for the name of living things, and they walked together in the glades. It is not surprising that Brandir fell in love with her, for it is said that she was a beautiful young woman. But Niënor called him brother only and didn’t reciprocate his love. 

Instead, as the tale takes another dark turn, Niënor fell in love with her own brother. Túrin, too, felt that he had at last found happiness since the day he found her in the woods, and he took the matter of her finding—that is, in the place where Finduilas rested—as a good sign. Alas for the both of them.

Niënor stayed with the Men of Brethil for at least two years in peace—for the Orcs didn’t approach the Crossings of Teiglin²⁸—before Túrin asked her for marriage. Niënor was fully healed in body, if not in mind, and accepted the proposal even against Brandir’s counsel, who now was heartsick with jealousy. He told her that Turambar was, in fact, the son of Húrin of Dor-lómin, and that he would go back to war soon.

The words seemed ominous to Niënor’s mind but she didn’t understand the shadows lurking behind the name. But, in any case, she asked Túrin to wait, which he did—although ill-pleased—until the spring of the next year, when he told Niënor he would either go back to war in the wilds or wed her and settle down and never go to war again, except in the defense of their home. So she accepted, and in mid-summer, they were married and went to live in a house upon Amon Obel where, for a time, they dwelt in happiness.

In the third year since Túrin was living with the Men of Brethil, Glaurung—who had been ruling as "king" in Nargothrond and gathering Orcs around him—began to assail the land. From the text, it is not clear if Glaurung knew that Túrin dwelt there or not but, doing Morgoth’s bidding to subdue all of Beleriand, the dragon intensified the attacks, leaving little choice for Túrin.

At first, as Orcs didn’t come near their homes, he did nothing. But as the Men of Brethil were not enough to drive back the enemy, Dorlas came to Túrin and begged that he pick up his sword again—and so he did. With Gurthang by his side, Túrin went to battle once more with the promise that he would kill Glaurung. The Orcs were terrified to learn that the Black Sword still lived, and the few that remained went back to Nargothrond to tell the dragon of this news.

The Men of Brethil started to listen to his orders, for he was mighty in arms, and no one paid attention to Brandir’s counsel anymore. Things started to go downhill when Niënor became pregnant, and in that same spring, Glaurung was spotted going northward in their direction—and Túrin knew the dragon was coming for him. Now, this is such a wondrous image, for it puts Glaurung and Túrin as more than mere opponents, and it elevates Túrin to a status of great power, one that would be capable of defeating one of Morgoth’s most terrifying monsters that no Elf could kill.

That summer, after much thinking and after learning that Glaurung came in a straight line in their direction, Túrin decided it was time to move against his enemy. He sent three men to keep watch of the dragon’s movements and urged the Men of Brethil to flee if Glaurung kept advancing—he knew it was useless to stand and fight as an army might. As for him, he would seek out Glaurung’s belly, which was supposed to be softer than his back and sides, and asked some of the sturdier of heart to go with him.

Dorlas, his steadfast friend, readily volunteered, but others were not so keen. And when Dorlas cried that the counsels of Brandir had been in vain for evil had, at last, reached their doors, scorning him in front of all their people, Túrin didn’t gainsay him. Hunthor, one of Brandir’s kinsmen, jumped to their lord’s defense and said he would go in the name of the house of Haleth. But Brandir was already embittered by Túrin’s presence, and though Túrin tried to placate the moment, his hatred for Túrin only grew.

Heedless of that, Túrin went forth with Dorlas and Hunthor and devised a plan where they would wait for Glaurung to cross above the Cabed-en-Aras, where they would be waiting below in the steep ravine. Dorlas didn’t like it, but he took Túrin’s counsel nonetheless.

Meanwhile, for Brandir’s despair, Niënor claimed she would not wait for the news, but rather she would seek them on her own. She wanted to follow Túrin, and when she asked if any would follow her, many indeed wanted to go, whether because they pitied her, wanted to befriend her, or wanted the news as badly as she did—like Hunthor’s and Dorlas’s wives—or simply wanted to see the dragon for themselves, for they believed the dragon was no match for the Black Sword.

Once Niënor had left, Brandir renounced his power and lordship over the Men of Brethil, and, breaking his staff, he decided to go after his beloved, who was the only thing he still cared about. Meanwhile, Túrin and his two companions reached the Cabed-en-Aras, but Dorlas was unable to cross it for fear of the river running dangerously below. Therefore, when Túrin went forward, only Hunthor followed him.

As they approached the place where Glaurung slept, the stench was nigh unbearable, and they had a hard time keeping still. But they did wait until the great worm stirred again, laying his assault on Brethil. Though Glaurung did as Túrin had predicted, his crossing began more to the north from where they were, so both Men had to hurry in order to catch the dragon while he threw the enormous bulk of his body over the ravine to cross it.

The heat and the smell proved to be a worthy enemy to Túrin, and had Hunthor not been there to steady him, he would have fallen. As the words of thanks left his mouth, though, a stone hit Hunthor in the head and killed him. Thus it was that Túrin went to seek Glaurung’s end on his own. Placing himself under the dragon’s belly, Túrin stabbed Glaurung with his sword to the hilt and gave him a deadly injury. Glaurung destroyed the place all around him with his thrashing and writhing, and when he finally lay still, Túrin managed to climb back and meet his foe in the eyes.

Túrin was proud of his deed and of the valor of his sword, which proved to be, indeed, a mighty weapon. When he tried to recover it from the dragon’s body, however, a gush of blood fell on his hand. Now, taking its influence in Norse mythology, the dragon’s blood didn’t make him invulnerable as it did for Sigurd,²⁹ but it burned his hand, for it was poisonous. Túrin cried out in pain and woke Glaurung, whose eyes burned in him with such malice that Túrin fainted as though stricken by an arrow.

On the hill where she waited with the Men of Brethil, Niënor shuddered with the sight of the destruction below them and froze when she heard Glaurung’s terrible voice. Brandir found her and tried taking her away from that place, but when Niënor realized what was happening, she fled from his side and went to find Túrin.

Niënor found him lying by Glaurung’s side, pale and cold as though he was dead, and even though she called him and cared for his burned hand, he did not wake. But even as she cried his name, Glaurung opened his eyes and revealed to her, with his last breath, the terrible truth of her parentage and relationship with Túrin. Niënor, horror-stricken, fled from that place and threw herself over the Cabed-en-Aras. Brandir, who had followed her even there, heard and saw everything and tried calling her once more, but to no avail.

Though he hated and pitied Túrin, Brandir went back to give the tidings to his people, for they deserved to know what had happened to the one they admired so much. On his way, he met with Dorlas, who had been hiding all this time in fear and shame. They exchanged hateful words, and when Dorlas meant to strike Brandir, the latter was faster and killed Dorlas with his sword. Then Brandir met with the people waiting and told them of the fate of the children of Húrin.

But even as all these things happened, Túrin awoke and found his hand bound with cloth, wondering who had done it and yet left him for dead. He slowly made his way back even as the Men of Brethil went to the place he had been seen to bury him. The woodsmen were furious with Brandir when they saw Túrin still lived, and slowly Túrin drew forth the painful truth from Brandir. The horror of his doom finally caught up with him, and in his madness and grief, Túrin slew Brandir—another innocent entangled in Morgoth’s curse—and ran to the Haudh-en-Elleth.

There, Mablung found him in his distress, and Túrin asked him for news of Doriath, of his mother and sister, and Mablung told him what had happened. As they spoke, Túrin revealed something that gives the reader pause:

"O the fair Niënor! So she ran from Doriath to the Dragon, and from the Dragon to me. What a sweet grace of fortune! Brown as a berry she was, dark was her hair; small and slim as an Elf-child, none could mistake her!"³⁰

Now, this is a piece of information we didn’t have before. For, as a confused Mablung explains to Túrin, Niënor was in fact tall and blond with blue eyes in the likeness of Húrin. From this, we might suppose that Glaurung’s spell over Túrin was more than mere forgetfulness. Maybe the dragon had such power as to change how Niënor would physically look, making sure Túrin had absolutely no clue that she was indeed his sister.

It is a believable theory if we remember that the Men of Brethil were not of the people of Hador—with their golden heads—but from the Haladin, even if no color of skin or hair is ever provided for them. So when Túrin sees her, instead of seeing a tall, blond woman that would immediately make him think of the women of his country—like we know he did with Finduilas—he saw a different person altogether. It makes the development of the tale more intricate and much more tragic.

In any case, as Túrin finally learned the truth of Brandir’s words and that he couldn’t outrun his fate, he fled from the Elves and stood upon the Cabed-en-Aras, calling it Cabed Naeramarth (the Leap of Dreadful Doom). There he drew forth Gurthang and bade the sword to drink his blood, taking him swiftly to his death. The text says the blade spoke to him sometimes, as noted above, but we hear its reply for the first time, for "from the blade rang a cold voice,"³¹ saying it would drink Túrin’s blood to forget those of Beleg and Brandir.

This is another piece of fascinating information because it is this strange, sentient sword that tells Túrin of his unjust act of slaying Brandir. It is no Elf or Man who calls Túrin to his reckoning, but the very sword he had been wielding all along—perhaps another dark turn in the curse that destroyed so many innocent lives. Thus, with Shakespearean flare, Túrin’s life ended, for he cast himself upon the blade’s point and killed himself. 

Mablung and the Men of Brethil came to see the wreckage done by the dragon and found Túrin’s body. The woodsmen told the Elves of what had happened, and together they burned Glaurung’s body and made funerary rites with laments from both races in honor of Túrin’s valor and Níniel’s beauty. The brothers were buried in a mound, and a tombstone was laid for them with Doriathrin runes—that later, as it is told with greater detail in The War of the Jewels, would be found by Morwen and Húrin themselves.³²

In documenting earlier versions of the story, Christopher Tolkien speaks about Túrin’s fate postmortem from a manuscript the Professor wrote. Túrin is one of the few Men to whom an ending other than death is given—the other one is his cousin Tuor, who sails to Valinor with Idril but whose actual fate is unknown. The Second Prophecy of Mandos speaks about the Last Battle, or Dagor Dagorath—an end-of-the-world battle similar to the Norse Ragnarök—where Tulkas will fight Morgoth and

on his right hand shall be Fionwë, and on his left Túrin Turambar, son of Húrin, coming from the halls of Mandos; and the black sword of Túrin shall deal unto Morgoth his death and final end; and so shall the children of Húrin and all Men be avenged.³³

Thus, Túrin is the only person in Tolkien’s entire legendarium to truly achieve the status of Morgoth’s nemesis (though Fëanor would arguably disagree) and the one who would put an end to Evil forever.

The scope of the Professor’s mythology viewed Men as those who took definitive actions in the world’s great events. Through incredible hardship, tragedy, blood, misery, and equally incredible heroic feats, Men are the game-changers in Tolkien’s legendarium. It is so for Túrin in the First Age, Elendil in the Second, and Aragorn in the Third, closing the cycle with something more akin to a happy ending than any other Man before him.

Túrin would not have known of his predestined fate as the slayer of Morgoth until the time came, but we, as readers, feel that it is more than apt that his suffering would end at last with Morgoth’s throat at the tip of his black sword.

Works Cited

1. The History of Middle-earth, Volume II: The Book of Lost Tales, Part Two, "Turambar and the Foalókë."
2. The Children of Húrin, "The Death of Beleg"; The Silmarillion, "Of Túrin Turambar."
3. The Silmarillion, "Of Túrin Turambar."
4. The Children of Húrin, "Túrin in Nargothrond."
5. The History of Middle-earth, Volume II: The Book of Lost Tales, Part Two, "Turambar and the Foalókë."
6. The Silmarillion, "Of Túrin Turambar."
7. The Children of Húrin, "Túrin in Nargothrond."
8. Ibid.
9. The Silmarillion, "Of Túrin Turambar."
10. The History of Middle-earth, Volume II: The Book of Lost Tales, Part Two, "Turambar and the Foalókë."
11. The Children of Húrin, "Túrin in Nargothrond."
12. Ibid.
13. Ibid.
14. Ibid.
15. Ibid.
16. The Silmarillion, "Of Túrin Turambar."
17. The Children of Húrin, "The Fall of Nargothrond."
18. The Silmarillion, "Of Túrin Turambar."
19. The Children of Húrin, "The Fall of Nargothrond."
20. The Silmarillion, "Of Túrin Turambar."
21. The History of Middle-earth, Volume II: The Book of Lost Tales, Part Two, "Turambar and the Foalókë."
22. The Children of Húrin, "The Return of Túrin to Dor-lómin."
23. The Children of Húrin, "The Coming of Túrin into Brethil"; Unfinished Tales, Narn i Hîn Húrin, "The Coming of Túrin into Brethil."
24. The History of Middle-earth, Volume II: The Book of Lost Tales, Part Two, "Turambar and the Foalókë."
25. The Children of Húrin, "The Journey of Morwen and Niënor to Nargothrond."
26. Ibid.
27. The Children of Húrin, "Niënor in Brethil."
28. Ibid.
29. There is a mention of the influence of the Edda in the notes of the The History of Middle-earth, Volume II: The Book of Lost Tales, Part Two, "Turambar and the Foalókë, Commentary on The Tale of Turambar, Túrin among the Rodothlim; Túrin and Glorund."
30. The Children of Húrin, "The Death of Túrin."
31. Ibid.
32. The History of Middle-earth, Volume XI: The War of the Jewels, "The Wanderings of Húrin."
33. The History of Middle-earth, Volume V: The Lost Road and Other Writings, Quenta Silmarillion, "The Conclusion of the Quenta Silmarillion," §31.