#manthor

‘Awake! Help is near’

Manthor and his men find Húrin

by the Breaking News team at Dimbar Daily

(aka, my entry for Day 7: AU of @silmarillionepistolary week! also for @sallysavestheday who prompted me to write an obituary for Túrin, which turned into...this.)

~

2 days ago

The dragon known as Glaurung was found dead upon the banks of the River Teiglin by the gorge of Cabed-en-Aras. A massive wound to the creature’s stomach indicates the mortal blow was caused by a sword. Investigators are at the scene, searching for evidence of the dragonslayer.

2 days ago

Preliminary reports indicate that a Man known as Turambar set out from Brethil with two companions on a quest to slay the dragon yesterday evening. One of his companions, Dorlas, was spotted returning to Amon Obel some time before the dragon was sighted. It is not known if if Turambar and the other Man continued onward, but the dragon’s carcass is proof that their goal was achieved in some manner.

The name of Turambar’s second companion is Hunthor, according to sources in Brethil. The current location of Brethil’s lord, Brandir, is unknown, as is the location of Dorlas himself. Turambar and Hunthor are likewise unaccounted for.

1 day ago

More information has come to light regarding the death of the dragon Glaurung. The situation has evolved into a mass casualty event.

The bodies of Turambar, Dorlas, Hunthor, and Lord Brandir have been discovered at or near the banks of Teiglin. Hunthor’s cause of death appears to be blunt-force trauma to the head. The rest were slain by blows from one or more swords. Investigators have not ruled out murder-suicide. The slayer of the dragon remains unclear.

This morning

New details have been released in the case of the Teiglin mass casualty event.

The cause of death of Hunthor, one of Turambar’s companions, has been officially declared as “blunt-force trauma to the head by a falling rock.” No foul play is suspected.

The same cannot be said for the rest of the deceased...

Then ruth smote the hearts of those that heard him; and though some drew back in fear, many were willing to go, but among these there were more women than men.

Therefore at length they set off in silence on the path that led down along the falling torrent of Celebros. Wellnigh eight leagues was that road, and darkness fell ere they came to Nen Girith, and there they passed the night as they could. And the next morning they went on down the steep way to the Field of Burning, and they found the body of Morwen at the foot of the Standing Stone. Then they looked upon her in pity and wonder; for it seemed to them that they beheld a great queen whose dignity neither age nor beggary nor all the woe of the world had taken from her.

- The War of Jewels: The Wanderings of Húrin

Angband world building and complex trauma masterlist 

this was originally posted in October of 2021 but honestly my original posting was a mess and full of my ranting about Avranc so I've been trying to revise it for so long and finally! The next two parts should be revised but I will be reposting them later too

My new tag for the wanderings is 'tol acharn' because for some reason the original tag broke

So I go into how a complex trauma informed reading of The Wanderings of Húrin is both illuminating and extremely depressing in a couple of places and I wanted to go into the trial scene in more detail because it’s a prime example of the trends throughout the Wanderings, where Húrin is in this state of acute crisis and in so much pain (physically and psychologically) and is met with hostility and scorn (except from Manthor!)

I also want to draw attention to what descriptions we have of Húrin’s demeanor and mental state throughout these events. I’ve tried to find a balance between making inferences from the text and making assumptions based on prior knowledge of complex trauma.

and finally! this series will have discussion of ableism, improper use of manual and chemical restraints, denial of due process, dehumanizing language regarding mental illness and perceived mental illness, suicidal ideation, disordered eating after starvation and intentional antagonizing related to trauma also very brief mention of animal death depending on how literally you take Manthor’s badger comment  (all from canon)

Twenty-eight years Hurin was captive in Angband, and at his release was in his sixtieth year, but great strength was in him still, in spite of the weight of his grief, for it suited the purpose of Morgoth that this should be so. He was sent under guard as far as the east-marches of Hithlum, and there he was let go free.

None that had known him [in] youth could mistake him still, though he had grown grim to look on: his hair and beard were white and long, but there was a fell light in his eyes. He walked unbowed, and yet carried a great black staff; but he was girt with his sword. Great wonder and dread fell on the land when it was noised in Hithlum that the Lord Hurin had returned. The Easterlings were dismayed, fearing that their Master would prove faithless again and give back the land to the Westrons, and that they would be enslaved in their turn. For watchmen had reported that Hurin came out of Angband.

'There was a great riding,' they said, 'of the black soldiers of Thangorodrim over the Anfauglith, and with them came this man, as one that was held in honour.'

Hey do you think the flamelike spirit that burns in Maedhros and makes him heal rapidly is ALSO a Morgoth bequest. Like does he heal super fast because his strength was of the ancient world or because Morgoth just unlocked that key in his genome before hanging him up on the wall and never got a chance to turn it off

...anyway how great is hot indelibly recognizable 60yo Húrin, forever. He has exactly his dashing younger self’s button nose.

Also I can’t believe he left Angband with an escort of hundreds of orc riders. After going into Angband still plastered in the orc hands he lopped off. Hey? Remember that? What’s up, Húrin? Do you think when they left him outside Dor-lomin one turned around and waved

Thus freedom only increased the bitterness of Hurin's heart; for even had he so wished, he could not have roused any rebellion against the new lords of the land. All the following that he gathered was a small company of the homeless men and outlaws chat lurked in the hills; but they had done no great deed against the Incomers since the passing of Turin, some five years before.

Of Turin's deeds in Brodda's hall Hurin now learned from the outlaws the true tale, and he looked on Asgon {3} and his men, and he said: 'Men are changed here. In thraldom they have found thrall hearts.'

God I just. cannot. believe. Hurin picks up the refugees that Turin fucking ditched in the mountains, and that they’ve now been downgraded from the bravest survivors of the Dor-lomin occupation to, meh, outlaws. No great deeds since Turin went off. Gotta love that Hurin’s-eye-view: well, what use to me?

'Fear not!' he said. 'I should have needed no companions, if I had come to fight with you. I am come only to take leave of the lord of the land. I have no liking for it any more, since you have defiled it. Hold it while you may, until your Master recalls you to the slave-tasks that fit you better.'

Then Lorgan was not ill-pleased to think that he would so soon and easily be rid of the fear of Hurin, without crossing the will of Angband; and he came forward.

'As you will, friend,' he said. 'I have done you no ill, and have let you be, and of this I hope you will bring a true tale, if you come again to the Master.'

Hurin eyed him in wrath. 'Friend me not, thrall and churl!' he said.

FB FRIEND REQUEST DECLINED. Also I love Lorgan, um, instantly recognizing the cocktail of tsundere threats characteristic of normal Angband introductions. sigh.

‘Fare you ill!'

'Tol acharn!' said Hurin. 'Vengeance comes. I am not the last of the Edain, whether I fare ill or well.' And with that he departed, and left the land of Hithlum.

HAHAHAHA I LOVE HURIN GETTING IT RIGHT... KIND OF... but unfortunately “I am not the last of the Edain, whether I fare ill or well” goes both ways. vengeance will come whatever happens to him but. whatever happens to him will still be awful and unchanged regardless of the survival of his peopleeeeee

[Some have said that] maybe he knew not that Glaurung was dead, and hoped in his heart distraught to take vengeance on this evil thing - for Morgoth would conceal the death of Glaurung, if he could, both because the loss was a grief to him and a hurt to his pride, and because (from Hurin especially) he would conceal all that was most valiant or successful of Turin's deeds. Yet this can scarce be so, since the death of Glaurung was so bound up with the death of his children and revelation of their evil case; while the rumour of the assault of Glaurung upon Brethil went far and wide. Certainly Morgoth fenced men in Hithlum, as he was able, and little news came to them of events in other lands; but so soon as Hurin passed southward or met any wanderers in the wild he would hear tidings of the battle in the ravine of Taiglin.

ahahahahahaha of course part of Húrin hopes that Glaurung survives. I mean I agree it makes no sense but: Of Course He Does. He’s Húrin Thalion, greatest warrior of the Edain! Why else was he released?

His heart is hot against Thingol. He passes it [Doriath] by and goes on to Nargothrond. Why? To seek news, plunder, --- he had been an admirer of Felagund.

w h a t  t h e  f u c k

Sorry nothing to say here just. AN ADMIRER OF FELAGUND? EXCUSE ME? OH MY GOD... DO YOU THINK TURGON TOLD HIM (EXPURGATED) STORIES

When Hurin stood again in the high places he descried far away amid the clouds the peaks of the Crisaegrim, and he remembered Turgon; and his heart desired to come again to the Hidden Realm, if he could, for there at least he would be remembered with honour. He had heard naught of the things that had come to pass in Gondolin, and knew not that Turgon now hardened his heart against wisdom and pity, and allowed no one either to enter or to go forth for any cause whatsoever. Therefore, unaware that all ways were shut beyond hope, he resolved to turn his steps towards the Crisaegrim; but he said nothing of his purpose to his companions, for he was still bound by his oath to reveal to no one that he knew even in what region Turgon abode.

Nonetheless he had need of help; for he had never lived in the wild, whereas the outlaws were long inured to the hard life of hunters and gatherers, and they brought with them such food as they could, though the Fell Winter had much diminished their store. Therefore Hurin said to them: 'We must leave this land now; for Lorgan will leave me in peace no longer. Let us go down into the vales of Sirion, where Spring has come at last!'

I love: Húrin constantly half-consciously aping ‘human capable of hope’ speech patterns just so he can better lie to people. He’s good at lying now. He spent thirty years thinking Morgoth’s hand-me-downs, why wouldn’t he be. Also I love how explicitly negative earlier drafts are about Gondolin and “at least he would be remembered with honor,” another relatively normal human desire among the many parading ostentatiously in Húrin’s surface thoughts, and I love Húrin not able to cook OR farm. Amazing. Sucks to have social stratification, huh, honey.

Also the fact that he has this company of people following him and then he just ditches them to go find Gondolin adds SO MUCH RICHNESS to his plea outside Gondolin? Like whoa oh oh I’m so alone in the world all have spurned me and btw I basically catfished six guys until THEY would teach me how to fish

'The old man's wits are wild. He speaks with strange voices to shadows in his sleep.'

'Little wonder if it were so,' said Asgon. 'But who else could stand as straight as he, after such woe? Nay, he is our right lord, do as he may, and I have sworn to follow him.'

'Even east over the ford?' said the others.

'Nay, there is small hope in that way,' said Asgon, 'and I do not think that Hurin will go far upon it. All we know of his purpose was to go soon to Brethil, and that he has an errand there. We are on the very border. Let us seek him there.'

'By whose leave?' said Ragnir. 'Men there do not love strangers.'

'Good men dwell there,' said Asgon, 'and the [Master >] Lord of Brethil is kin to our old lords.' Nonetheless the others were doubtful, for no tidings had come out of Brethil for some years. 'It may be ruled by Orcs for all we know,' they said.

'We shall soon find what way things go,' said Asgon. 'Orcs are little worse than Eastrons, I guess. If outlaws we must remain, I would rather lurk in the fair woods than in the cold hills.'

The Rohan/Lothlorien/Fangorn mix with Brethil is real intense, though I mostly feel the Rohan parallels. But I also like the reminder that the Hadorians and the people in Dor-lomin really have the most human-centric existence of any society in Beleriand. The Haladin don’t necessary have close ties to particular elves but they’re tangled up in Orcs and a front line of defense against Orcs from the moment of their introduction, and they therefore feel more meshed into the fantastic wild of Beleriand as a whole, whereas the Hadorians really, almost, sorta had a self-contained fortified society from which to look out at the uncanny world, for a while there. Anyway, then with “Orcs are little worse than Eastrons” you got that simultaneous tasty racism and hard-to-resist humanization of Orcs from back at the beginning of time before Species Divisions were formalized beyond hope of unlearning, so, \o_o/ I guess

'To those of proved faith,' said Hardang. 'To be Edain is not enough alone.'

[...]

'This is my judgement. Here Turin son of Hurin dwelt for a time, and he delivered the land from the Serpent of Angband. For this I give you your lives. But he scorned Brandir, right Chieftain of Brethil, and he slew him without justice or pity. Therefore I will not harbour you here.'

LOL REVERSE OF Húrin’s propaganda machine “I am not the last of the Edain, whether I fare ill or well.” idk that I have much to say about the completely unstable shifting identities here but <3

Asgon, therefore, turned and went back towards Brethil; and the others followed him, for he had a stout heart and men said that he was born with good luck.

[...]

'Well, thy luck has held,' said Ragnir, 'for at least we are not slain, though we came nigh it. Now what shall we do?’

Rasgir/Asgon is a good ship I hope they had a nice time being lost in the woods forever

Thus Turin was the second cousin of Brandir on the 'Hadorian' side, and he was also his second cousin on the Haladin side; while in the 'Beorian' line he was Brandir's second cousin once removed - a genealogical situation to delight the heart of Hamfast Gamgee. Pointing out these relationships in an isolated note of this time, my father observed that 'Turin would be more readily accepted by the Haladin when his true name and lineage were known or guessed', since he was akin to their lords in these ways.

I’m very ... Emotion ... about Brandir being this barely-tolerated lord, son of a Beorian mother with a great big polarizing Hadorian strain as well, alternately prized by the other anxious part-Hadorians and viewed as an outsider by scared, bitter Haladin rival branches. Do I headcanon that Beldis put him on the Wise track at all?? I don’t know! I think I do! I don’t think she was a Wise-woman though she probably just gave him like, five poison berries once and a pat on the head

The only obscure point concerns the failure of Asgon's party to encounter Hurin on his return. My father was in two minds about this. The rejected fourth paragraph in C (p. 267) shows him (having decided that Asgorn and his men were not imprisoned) taking the view that they were ejected from Brethil near the Crossings: it is 'the captain of the Taiglin-guard' who restores their weapons; and they remain lurking in that neighbourhood. Thus they missed Hurin, 'who entered out of Dimbar' (i.e. came into Brethil from the north after crossing the Brithiach, as Asgorn had done). Hurin, he wrote, must not enter Brethil at the Crossings and be found lying beside the Haud-en-Elleth (as the story was already in the draft manuscript).

But he at once, and understandably, thought better of this, and (in the fifth paragraph) retained the existing story that Hurin was found by the guards near the Crossings; he said now that Asgorn and his men were put out of Brethil in the same region as they entered, and that they lurked 'near the eaves in that region' - hence their failure to meet with Hurin. But in the replacement passage B 2 (p. 265) he has them decide not to stay near the north eaves of the forest, and they go down towards the Crossings.

Tbh this. impossible continuity fuckup is my FAVORITE and instantly enshrined as Fairy-tale Meaningful in my mind, for no particular reason. Hurin went to the Crossings! Asgorn and his men headed down to the Crossings! HURIN IS TAKEN CAPTIVE AND THEY NEVER MEET AGAIN. Thanks, Connie Willis.

...he halted and looked about him in little hope. He stood now at the foot of a great fall of stones beneath a sheer rock-wall, and he did not know that this was all that was now left to see of the old Way of Escape: the Dry River was blocked and the arched gate was buried.(28)

Then Hurin looked up to the grey sky, thinking that by fortune he might once more descry the Eagles, as he had done long ago in his youth.(29) But he saw only the shadows blown from the East, and clouds swirling about the inaccessible peaks; and wind hissed over the stones. But the watch of the Great Eagles was now redoubled, and they marked Hurin well, far below, forlorn in the failing light. And straightaway Sorontar himself, since the tidings seemed great, brought word to Turgon.

But Turgon said: 'Nay! This is past belief! Unless Morgoth sleeps. Ye were mistaken.'

Obviously this is all in the Silm-silm but man the... stereoscopic movement from Húrin staring up at the mountains from way down below the cloud layer TO THE EAGLES, watching from ABOVE the clouds, seeing everything illuminated. What the fuck. Also I love the repeated “Unless Morgoth sleeps” phrase, ha ha ha ha, like Morgoth is a dragon and Húrin is his FAVORITE goblet (tru)

As darkness fell Hurin stumbled from the stone, and fell, as one aswoon, into a deep sleep of grief. But in his sleep he heard the voice of Morwen lamenting, and often she spoke his name; and it seemed to him that her voice came out of Brethil.

//

The waters of Cabed Naeramarth roared on, but he heard no sound and saw nothing, and he felt nothing, for his heart was stone within him, and he thought that he would sit there until he too died.

But there came a chill wind that drove sharp rain into his face; and he was roused, and anger rose in him like smoke, mastering reason, so that all his desire was to seek vengeance for his wrongs and for the wrongs of his kin, accusing in his anguish all those who ever had dealings with them.

He arose and lifted Morwen up; and suddenly he knew that it was beyond his strength to bear her. He was hungry and old, and weary as winter. Slowly he laid her down again beside the standing stone. 'Lie there a little longer, Edelwen,' he said, 'until I return. Not even a wolf would do you more hurt. But the folk of this hard land shall rue the day that you died here!'

So of course the “anger rose in him like smoke, mastering reason” passage is the only rival for Fingolfin’s last ride in my affections, I should have listed it as an alternative because they really are just, The Two Favs, but anyway: other things I’m into here include the... kind of... the relatively innocent-seeming childlike oblivion of grief, interrupted by a perhaps braver (?) and more adult/heroic (??) impulse to answer Morwen’s call---his love! that takes priority!---and then the same process happening again after she dies, except now all that’s summoning him is his grief, and it’s soured completely in his absence. But like, the repeated habit of ‘shaking himself awake,’ the shape is the same, the feelings that fill it are the reverse

Also I can’t. can’t. BELIEVE the ... seamless transition from the factual, wrenching, sweet gallows humor of “Not even a wolf would do you more hurt” --- he’s looking at her, he’s flirting a little, he sees her clearly, she’s a corpse! --- STRAIGHT into “But the folk of this hard land shall rue the day that you died here.” He was calm for as long as he’s talking directly to his dead wife, it occurs to him he can hurt someone, it’s time to hurt someone. No one can hurt her now. What does that have to do with it? He wants to hurt someone!

'Shame upon you!' cried Manthor the captain, who coming behind had heard what they said. 'And upon you most, Avranc, young though you are! At least you have heard of the deeds of Hurin of Hithlum, or did you hold them only fireside fables? What is to be done, indeed! So, slay him in his sleep is your counsel. Out of hell comes the thought! '

'And so does he,' answered Avranc. 'If indeed he is Hurin. Who knows? '

'It can soon be known,' said Manthor; and coming to Hurin as he lay he knelt and raised his hand and kissed it. 'Awake!' he cried. 'Help is near. And if you are Hurin, there is no help that I would think enough.'

'And no help that he will not repay with evil,' said Avranc. 'He comes from Angband, I say.'

'What he may do is unknown,' said Manthor. 'What he has done we know, and our debt is unpaid.'

God Manthor you male feminist. I mean, uh, I, ‘out of hell comes the thought’ / ‘ and so does he’ put this on my .... portfolio website, also... the hand kiss.... the unintentional brain-cleaving accuracy of ‘and if you are Hurin, there is no help that I would think enough’ ... I do legit love What he may do is unknown. What he has done we know, and our debt is unpaid. Manthor is a good, rationalizing, sleazy kid who has already had TWO prophetic dreams :(

Then Manthor gave him a little bread and meat and water; but they seemed to choke him, and he spat them forth. 'How far is it to the house of your lord?' he asked. 'Until I have seen him the food that you denied to my beloved will not go down my throat.'

[Húrin after having his mouth scalded by a bite of lembas] ‘Hmm, must be because THINGOL and MELIAN mistreated my WIFE’

the food that you denied to my beloved. holy shit. he’s an evil slam poet.

Then he turned towards Hurin, who sat meanwhile bent on the low stool; his eyes were closed, and he seemed to take no heed of what was said.

LOVE HÚRIN’S FUCKING... SHITTY-ASS COMBINATION THEODEN-DENETHOR-GANDALF VIBE... WHATS UP. IM A HARMLESS OLD MAN. BUT I HATE YOU. BUT IM CRAZY MAGIC SO

Then Hurin looked at him and the wrath left his eyes; and together they drank and ate in silence. And when all was finished, Hurin said: 'By your voice you have overcome me. Never since the Day of Dread have I heard any man's voice so fair. Alas! alas! it calls to my mind the voices in my father's house, long ago when the shadow seemed far away.'

'That may well be,' said Manthor. 'Hiril my foremother was sister of thy mother, Hareth.'

'Then thou art both kin and friend,' said Hurin.

'But not I alone,' said Manthor. 'We are few and have little wealth, but we too are Edain, and bound by many ties to your people. Your name has long been held in honour here; but no news of your deeds would have reached us, if Haldir and Hundar had not marched to the Nirnaeth. There they fell, but three of their company returned, for they were succoured by Mablung of Doriath and healed of their wounds.’

1) Seriously the amount of time Húrin spends on offhand, awful, overwhelming flattery 2) I REMEMBER BEING EXACTLY AS WOWED BY THE MABLUNG CAMEO LAST TIME. “Oh, shit, they got healed by Doctor Who!” Fuck I just realized Mablung visited again ~2 weeks ago and probably talked to none of those people. Amazing.

Soon all the Moot-ring was filled. This was shaped as a great crescent, with seven tiers of turf-banks rising up from a smooth floor delved back into the hillside. A high fence was set all about it, and the only entry was by a heavy gate in the stockade that closed the open end of the crescent. In the middle of the lowest tier of seats was set the Angbor or Doom-rock, a great flat stone upon which the Halad (40) would sit. Those who were brought to judgement stood before the stone and faced the assembly.

... Then he stood facing the assembly and hallowed the Moot according to custom. First he named Manwe and Mandos, after the manner which the Edain had learned from the Eldar, and then, speaking the old tongue of the Folk which was now out of daily use, he declared that the Moot was duly set, being the three hundred and first Moot of Brethil, called to give judgement in a grave matter.

I don’t have anything to say about this it’s just the best and I regret not including it in my Nienor fic. Take me to turf ampitheater. Btw Niniel definitely spoke on that doom-rock right, that’s where she convinced the folk of Brethil to go rubberneck with her, right

also NAMED MANWE AND MANDOS AFTER THE MANNER WHICH THE EDAIN LEARNED FROM THE ELDAR and then goes straight to the old largely-ceremonial human language I. just. I love it so much. I love Beleriand.

The horn sounded twice, but for some time no one entered, and the sound of angry voices could be heard outside the fence. At length the gate was thrust open, and six men came in bearing Hurin between them.

'I am brought by violence and misuse,' he cried. 'I will not walk slave-fettered to any Moot upon earth, not though Elven-kings should sit there. And while I am bound thus I deny all authority and justice to your dooms.' But the men set him on the ground before the Stone and held him there by force.

Sorry I included a lot of Húrin quotes that I don’t even have anything to say about I Just... the vision... Húrin’s slightly fake flailing and perfect enunciation/projection techniques....

But when Hardang stepped down and Avranc came to the Stone there was a loud murmuring like the rumour of a coming storm. Avranc was a young man, not long wedded, and his youth was taken ill by all the elder headmen that sat there. And he was not loved for himself; for though he was bold, he was scornful, as was Dorlas his father before him. And dark tales were whispered concerning Dorlas; for though naught was known for certain, he was found slain far from the battle with Glaurung, and the reddened sword that lay by him had been the sword of Brandir.

But Avranc took no heed of the murmur, and bore himself airily, as if it were a light matter soon to be dealt with.

My secret favorite WoH thing is not even the Hurin garbage, it’s just the indiscriminate revengelike murder mystery consequences of Brandir’s death on This Entire Small Community. Also, Avranc is cute. Cuter than Dorlas because I cannot imagine Dorlas behind the bench in an Ace Attorney game. Pats.

‘We gave him food and he spat on it. I have seen Orcs do so, if any were fools enough to show them mercy.’

[vs Manthor:] ‘Yet as for despising our food: he took it from my hands, and he did not spit upon it. He spat it forth, for it choked him. Have you never, my masters, seen a man half-starved who could not swallow food in haste though he needed it? And this man was in great grief also and full of anger.’

Anyway okay I joked earlier but obviously the moment with Húrin spitting out the food/these successive interpretive frames are just... so... again like, this is as close as we get to textual acknowledgment of like... the HORROR of those scenes where Gollum is burned by the elf-rope and the moon, the fact that what’s spoken of in the abstract as a sure sign of evil reads on the page as just this terrible, wasteful injustice, that no one’s actively inflicting but that people have some duty to correct. And like. come on. the only explanation for orcish allergies that makes sense is that they’ve been deprived for so long that they just can’t handle [radiance/nutrients/silky touches of elf-hair]. Avranc and Manthor, I have great news, you think you’re making different arguments and through my sciences I have discovered, it’s ONE argument

'Prisoner, will you not speak?' said Avranc, and still Hurin gave no answer. 'So be it,' said Avranc. 'If he will not speak, not even to deny the charge, then there is no more to do. The charge is made good, and the one that is appointed to the Stone must propound to the Moot a penalty that seems just.'

But now Manthor stood up and said: ‘First he should at least be asked why he will not speak. And to that question reply may be made by his friend.'

'The question is put,' said Avranc with a shrug. 'If you know the answer give it.'

'Because he is fettered hand and foot,' said Manthor. 'Never before have we dragged to the Moot in fetters a man yet uncondemned. Still less one of the Edain whose name deserves honour, whatsoever may have happened since. Yes, "uncondemned" I say; for the accuser has left much unsaid that this Moot must hear before judgement is given.'

'But this is foolishness,' said Avranc. 'Adan or no, and whatever his name, the prisoner is ungovernable and malicious. The bonds are a needed precaution. Those who come near him must be protected from his violence.'

Sorry I just... really like Avranc...

Hmm I was going to put this observation somewhere else but I don’t really feel like attaching a quote: it is always soothing to me when Tolkien doesn’t quite know how to translate his ideas into an archaic register either. Like with the whole subplot of Hurin’s food being drugged. “IDK, HIS FOOD WAS DRUGGED.” Or when he tries to backdate idioms? “Third time shall thrive best!” mmhmmm

But the gathering and counting would take much time, and meanwhile Manthor saw that with each moment the mood of Hurin grew worse.

'There is another way more simple,' he said. 'There is no danger here to justify the bonds, and so think all who have used their voice. The Halad is in the Moot-ring, and he can remit his own order, if he will.'

'He will,' said Hardang, for it seemed to him that the mood of the assembly was restive, and he hoped by this stroke to regain its favour. 'Let the prisoner be released, and stand up before you!'

Hardang also a pretty great prototype of other doomed Tolkien politicians :[ from chilling in his chair with a bleeding headwound to bursting out petulantly about REMEMBER MY HEADWOUND? DO YOU THINK THIS IS A FANCY HAT? in court. He’s just... “trying his best”... I, too, suck at catering to the crowd while wishing to do nothing except cater to the crowd, Hardang.

'Ashamed ye may be. But this is not my charge. I do not ask that any in this land should match the son of Hurin in valour. But if I forgive those griefs, shall I forgive this? Hear me, Men of Brethil! There lies by the Standing Stone that you raised an old beggar-woman. Long she sat in your land, without fire, without food, without pity. Now she is dead. Dead. She was Morwen my wife. Morwen Edelwen, the lady elven-fair who bore Turin the slayer of Glaurung. She is dead.

[...]

Now Hardang was aghast at this turn, and his face went white with fear and amazement. But before he could speak, Hurin pointed a long hand at him. 'See!' he cried. 'There he stands with a sneer on his mouth! Does he deem himself safe? For I am robbed of my sword; and I am old and weary, he thinks. Nay, too often has he called me a wild man. He shall see one! Only hands, hands, are needed to wring his throat full of lies.'

With that Hurin left the Stone and strode towards Hardang; but he gave back before him, calling his household-men about him; and they drew off towards the gate. Thus it appeared to many that Hardang admitted his guilt, and they drew their weapons, and came down from the banks, crying out upon him.

Now there was peril of battle within the hallowed Ring. For others joined themselves to Hardang, some without love for him or his deeds, who nonetheless held to their loyalty and would at least defend him from violence, until he could answer before the Moot.

L M A O I JUST FUCKIN. THE NEGGING. “Not that I expected you to be braver than my son!” The as if just-remembered other detail: you killed my wife, though. Remember when you totally killed my wife, as I decided when I realized I needed someone to have killed her, because I wanted a reason to live? Remember that? Oh, okay, I’m walking forward now. No rush. I’m just briskly walking forward to strangle your leader. Everybody with m---oh look, he’s running away. After him! On your own time.

Now she is dead. Dead. She was Morwen my wife.

'Out of the dark days of our past it comes,' he said, 'before we turned our faces west. A shadow is upon us.' And he felt one lay a hand on his shoulder, and he turned and saw Hurin who stood behind him, with a grim face watching the kindling of the fires; and Hurin laughed.

'A strange folk are ye,' he said. 'Now cold, now hot. First wrath, then ruth. Under your chieftain's feet or at his throat. Down with Hardang! Up with Manthor! Wilt thou go up?'

'The Folk must choose,' said Manthor. 'And Hardang still lives.'

'Not for long, I hope,' said Hurin.

a. strange. folk. are ye. now cold. now hot. down with hardang! up with manthor! wilt thou go up? Hurin, I know you can’t, but listen to me, I have to ask: can you control your jollies for even a second. Until the house is ashes? If you recall, your wife is dead and not here and can’t unsmilingly appreciate your shit

'You are a mightier man than I, Hurin of Hithlum,' he said. 'I had such fear of your shadow that all wisdom and largesse forsook me. But now I do not think that any wisdom or mercy would have saved me from you, for you have none. You came to destroy me, and you at least have not denied it. But your last lie against me I cast back upon you ere I die. Never' - but with that blood gushed from his mouth, and he fell back, and said no more.

I know you haven’t read ASOIAF and you are the only person who might conceivably have scrolled this far down, but, god when people claim GRRM is more grimdark in his interest in deflating backhanded anticlimax than Tolkien, I ... I just...

‘I must go to the Field of the Worm and the Stone of the Hapless, where Morwen their mother lies untended. Will any come with me?'

Then ruth smote the hearts of those that heard him; and though some drew back in fear, many were willing to go, but among these there were more women than men.

<33 <3 they loved Nienor

But Hurin said: 'Nay, Nienor is not here, but it is fitter that she should lie here near her son than with any strangers. So she would have chosen.'

[...] But it is said that after that day fear left that place, though sorrow remained, and it was ever leafless and bare. But until the end of Beleriand women of Brethil would come with flowers in spring and berries in autumn and sing there a while of the Grey Lady who sought in vain for her son.

I have to single out every time someone mentions “Nienor is not there,” also the implication that obviously Morwen would MOST want to be buried where Nienor is, um, soothing to me. Personally. Not because I don’t care a ton about Morwen and Turin, it’s just, the Morwen-Nienor relationship is like... you know. Anyway I can’t believe how lovely and unqualified this is even though Brethil is on fire in another tab.

Now Manthor sat gasping with his back to a tree. 'It is a poor archer that will miss his mark at the third aim,' he said.

Hurin leaned on his staff and looked down at Manthor. 'But thou hast missed thy mark, kinsman,' he said. 'Thou hast been a valiant friend, and yet I think thou wert so hot in the cause for thyself also. Manthor would have sat more worthily in the chair of the Chieftains.'

'Thou hast a hard eye, Hurin, to pierce all hearts but thine own,' said Manthor.

THANKS HURIN. THANKS FOR THE SOFTWARE UPDATE. THANKS FOR RUNNING A DIAGNOSTIC ON THIS DECEASED MAN. great job leaning on your staff for effect, you maniac

‘...I would weep for thee, Manthor; for thou hast saved me from dishonour, and thou hadst love for my son.'

'Then, lord, use in peace the little more life that I have won for thee,' said Manthor. 'Do not bring your shadow upon others!'

'Why, must I not still walk in the world?' said Hurin. 'I will go on till the shadow overtakes me. Farewell!'

The History of Middle-earth \ House of Haleth Part II

Angband World Building and Aftermath of Captivity Masterlist

Anyways, Húrin in Angband plus a new short epilogue in Brethil

Not super gory but warning for blood, torture, Morgoth being Morgoth, enforced nudity, and unreality. vague The Wanderings of Húrin related warnings for the epilogue

three houses of the edain ➴ house of haleth ➴ headcanon disclaimer