A/N – This is the story untold of Túrin and Finduilas, where history is changed, and a hero is redeemed.  In this story, Tolkien's, "The Silmarillion" is quoted in dialogue, but all else is extrapolated and altered information given by Tolkien in his story of Túrin.  Read on if you are yet intrigued.  Note* This is an appended version of the story originally posted in the LoTR section, in which I made clear that which has been kindly pointed out.  Enjoy. =)

Disclaimer:  I don't own them; I only borrow them for a time in order to bend them to my infinitely cruel and twisted, malicious will.  Alas, dear Professor, forgive me!

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Chapter 1 – Fate Anew

The day was long and all hope for victory had been lost as Túrin Turambar stood over his friend, Gwindor, who was fatally wounded and would soon die.  Túrin's heart ached within, for though Gwindor had done ill by him, he had once saved Túrin from the hands of Orcs at peril of his life, and that bond was ever strong.

Gwindor looked on the face of Túrin wrought with pain at his impending death, and a peace long sought for settled over him.  His vision then was long, seeing that only one love could bare Túrin forth from his doom, and his old love for the yet young Man swelled in his breast, and he motioned to Túrin and bade him forth.

Túrin then kneeled at Gwindor's side, and took in his own hand the trembling hand of Gwindor.  And Gwindor smiled faintly and said: "Let bearing pay for bearing!  But ill-fated is mine, and vain is thine; for my body is marred beyond healing, and I must leave Middle-earth.  And though I love thee, son of Húrin, yet I rue the day I took thee from the Orcs.  But for thy prowess and thy pride, still I should have love and life, and Nargothrond should yet stand a while.  Now if thou love me, leave me!  Haste thee to Nargothrond, and save Finduilas.  And this last I say to thee: she alone stands between thee and they doom.  If thou fail her, it shall not fail to find thee.  Farewell!"

Then Gwindor took a long, slow breath, and his forehead creased, then laxed, and he smiled upon Túrin and brushed a hand along his face, wiping the tears thence.  Then it was that the spirit fled forth from Gwindor son of Guilin, leaving forever Middle-earth.

Túrin flung himself upon Gwindor's body and wept, for the pain was sharp as a well-honed blade upon his breast, and he called to Gwindor, saying, "Farewell, friend!"  And then he rose and departed from that place, and rushed toward Nargothond, intent on finding Finduilas, whom his heart loved though he knew naught of it; and he was bent on rescuing her at pain of death.

And so Túrin then came to Nargothrond, and seeing it laid waste, his heart beat fierce, for it was a place he loved and held high in his heart, and all that was black had laid it claim for the works of his hand.  And he entered therein, seeking to find Finduilas so they might yet flee from danger.  But before he could cross forth the bridge over the Narog, Glaurung the Dragon laid forth the doors of Felagund and sat himself between the bridge and the door, saying, "Hail, son of Húrin.  Well met!" 

And seeing this, Túrin became mad with anger, and unsheathed his mighty sword intent upon victory or death.  Charging then forward, Túrin cried out, and came at the Dragon, but Glaurung held back his black breath and fixed his eyes on Túrin, unleashing all their malicious enchantment forthwith.

Túrin was caught then in the stare, for he feared not the gaze of the serpent and met it full and hard, and was locked therein.  He came then under the dragon's spell and became as stone, standing still and motionless, hearing and seeing naught of what went on around him. 

And Glaurung snorted, and said, "Evil have all thy ways been, son of Húrin.  Thankless fosterling, outlaw, slayer of thy friend, thief of love, usurper of Nargothrond, captain foolhardy, and deserter of thy kin.  As thralls thy mother and thy sister live in Dor-lómin, in misery and want.  Thou art arrayed as a prince, but they go in rags; and for thee they yearn, but thou carest not for that.  Glad may thy father be to learn that he hath such a son; as learn he shall."

The words fell then onto the mind of Túrin, who was yet under the dragon's spell, and they stung at his heart as if true.  And he judged himself harshly as failed of his blood, and saw that all his ways had brought down what the Enemy could not.  And so, his heart was cast down in grief, though he gave no sign of it.  Yet, hope still remained, unquenched by the black treachery, which held fast in the heart of Turambar, for one yet lived who could break the spell and the Doom that ever sought him. 

Moreover, within in the city there were held captives, which were women and children of Nargothrond not yet slain by the marauding Orcs, who now pillaged the wrecked city.  Among them was Finduilas, and as the captives were led thus by the place where Túrin stood still as stone, she cried out to him, saying, "Mormegil!  Mormegil!" 

Her voice to him was as a faint sigh and it carried sorrow long unheard by ears of Men and Elves, yet it found him well and the shadow fled forth from his min, causing the faint hope of Túrin that sparkled within to burn forth and his heart was roused within his chest.  Still, he remained unmoving, knowing not whether his hearing was true or deceived. 

Then Finduilas cried out again: "Túrin Turambar, dost thou hear naught of my words?  I am Finduilas who loves thee, though that love is not returned and cost a price beyond all reckoning.  Wilt thou not save us?"

The frantic desperation in her voice rang within Túrin's mind, though there it said, "Wilt thou not love me?  I have placed all my hope and love on thee.  Wilt thou not save me?" 

His heart shook then free and love filled its depths, and when he finally heard true her words, his rage was turned in full.  For the dragon had sought to deceive him and cause him to wander away from Nargothrond, thus forsaking Finduilas to a fate worse than death. 

And Túrin cried out in a great voice, then leapt forward, the edges of Gurthang alight with flame.  He called forth to Glaurung as he ran, saying, "Hear this, thou wretched worm.  Though I be but a Man, I shall slay thee this day!" 

Túrin dove then in reckless abandon towards where Glaurung stood and the dragon laughed full and aloud at the folly.  The terrible sound of his laughter caused all motion to stop, and the Orcs there came stark still and held their captives at bay.  Then Finduilas, seeing the valor and beauty of Túrin and the hopelessness of the act cried out in anguish and fell upon her knees weeping. 

But by his pride, Glaurung again withheld the flame of his breath and in his wrath sought to slay Túrin by running him through, as Turambar would him.  And by this, he was deceived, for as he slashed out at Túrin, bearing his mighty black claws, Túrin swerved and rolled onto the ground, then drove his blade deep within the belly of the beast.

Glaurung then toppled over onto his back, and in his shock, he lay still, disbelieving of the passing of events; and even as he lay motionless, Túrin withdrew Gurthang and stood before Glaurung.  And he said, "To the shadow I commit thee, and may thy name be heard no more upon the tongues of Men and Elves."  And then he drove deep Gurthang into the heart of the dragon, the piercing of the hide causing the black sword to break asunder.  Yet still, the blade went deep, and pierced true the heart of Glaurung the Urulóki.  Thus, the dragon lived no more, and the Orcs who had followed him stood dumb.

Now Túrin, seeing the despair wrought upon them, went forth bearing what remained of the once mighty Gurthang and slew all of the company holding the remnant of Nargothrond captive.  And when he had laid bare the entrails of the last of them, Finduilas saw him in his glory, the remnant of Gurthang was gleaming in the rising sun, and she sprang to him, crying his name.  She leapt into his embrace and cried upon his shoulder, caring naught of the peril that stood still before them. 

But Túrin kept his wits and though he wished not to release Finduilas from the sweet embrace, he spoke firm, saying, "The dragon is slain, but many dangers lie yet ahead if we flee not from this place.  We must make haste.  Come."  Then he bid the survivors follow him and they fled from the ruin of Nargothrond.

When the days were accomplished that the remnant had passed from their realm and neared Amon Rûdh, which lie south from the forest of Brethil, they stopped and rested upon the green grass of Parth Bronadu, which is the Enduring Field.  Many days they had traveled as Túrin led them north and east in hopes of reaching Doriath, where they might take refuge.

And while those who remained slept and rested, Finduilas arose, took Túrin by the hand, and led him away.  They walked for a mile, until they saw a quaint thicket, and Finduilas took Túrin there. 

She bade him then to sit, and he did so, leaning back against the bark of a great oak tree, and she knelt down before him and smiled.  Her keen eyes traveled over his face, which was worn and tired, yet more becoming to her than the light of the stars.  "Thou hast come and given hope when none was to be had," she said.  "My heart has oft been fraught with sorrow since it turned to thee when bidden not.  However, I would seek not to change it's beat, though it has brought me great pain.  Yet, I do not expect thee to return my love, but know that I give it freely and wholly and without remorse."

Túrin then took her by the hand and in his eyes his heart was laid bare, for her words had brought understanding to him and he loved her even then.  And he said to her, "That the love of thy heart could be given me, though I have brought naught but ruin to thy lands and to thy people, is beyond my means to understand.  But fear not, Finduilas, ellethbain Nargothronduin, for thy love is returned."

Then Finduilas laughed for the joy in her heart, and Túrin took her into an embrace.  But he thought then of Gwindor and halted ere they kissed, saying, "Lo! I thought naught until this moment to tell thee for the pain in my heart, but Gwindor is slain upon the fields of Tumhalad.  And ere he died, he told me to fail thee not, for by thy doom was mine own bound.  But, alas, I fear no good thing, not even the love of so beautiful a creature as thee could stem the tide of that rushing stream and sunder me from my fate.  Yet, I will take what peace may come to me while it may and love thee true as well I can.  But I would caution thee yet against it, for I am a Man and shall die and go where thou can not follow, and I would not see so grievous a thing befall thee."

Finduilas sighed, for she had expected the speech, and caressed his cheek tenderly.  "This truth is known full well unto me, for ere we were ever met, another such union transpired.  I know not what my heart will desire when the time of thy death has come to pass, but I will face it just the same by choice.  I shall take the risk."

Her last words were but a whisper, and as she spoke them, she drew night unto him and took his lips in her own, sealing there their doom.  And so they stayed there together for a while until the sun was hovering low in the sky, and then they departed and rejoined with the others.

Now when Túrin once again stood before them at dawn of the next day, Finduilas was by there by his side, and would remove not away, and all looked to him alone to lead them forth; and he did so, baring himself with dignity.  They traveled then for two days, finally coming onto Amon Rûdh.  And when they approached, Túrin heard a voice cry out as if in song, saying, "Behold!  Túrin, son of Húrin, fostered son of Thingol.  Well met!"  And Túrin knew the voice of Mablung and rushed forth, baring Finduilas with him. 

Mablung took Túrin by the hand then, and delivered him forth onto the hill, then bade him sit.  "What has befallen thee, my friend, for I sense thy sorrow and weariness," he said.  He looked then to Finduilas, whom he knew as daughter of Orodreth, King of Nargothrond, and saw her graveness and a chill ran through his bones.

Then it was that Túrin and Finduilas told Mablung their tale of all that had occurred and of the defeat at Tumhalad and the sack and destruction of Nargothrond, and Mablung sat horrified by all he heard. 

"These people are all that remain of the city," then said Túrin who stood and his face grew dark and wan with grief.  "I have wrought this thing alone and brought down what the Enemy could not.  I am as a servant of Morgoth, though ignorant of the knowledge, which carries with him the dark shadow wherever he goes.  Therefore, I pray thee to take these people into Doriath and seek Thingol's leave for their refuge, for I will not risk entering it, as surely my doom would follow therein."

Then Mablung arose and clasped Túrin by the shoulder.  "Thou hast saved all these people from certain death, Turambar," he said.  "Think thee I hath heard naught of the Worm being sent forth to seek and destroy Nargothrond?  I tell thee I have, for that is my reason for being in this place, where any threat to Doriath might yet be spied.  And still the Lady Finduilas tells of the rescue of these folk from the ruin of the city, which surely Glaurung besieged.  Thou hast then escaped from the dragon and brought forth a remnant of that once proud and mighty place.  I ask thee: what ill is there in that?"

But Finduilas arose ere Túrin could speak and said unto Mablung: "Escaped from Glaurung we have not, nor had we need.  For Túrin Turambar hath slain Morgoth's Worm by the black blade and won freedom from captivity for those who would be taken into thralldom in the accursed lands."

Mablung then looked on Túrin in wonder and saw the truth of the tale of Finduilas upon his face.  "Thou hast truly slain the dragon?"

Túrin sighed and nodded, then gazed upon Finduilas, whose eyes glistened with the light of the sun, and she was beautiful.  "Aye," said Túrin then, "though he cast upon me a spell which rendered me dumb and still as stone.  But for a voice lovely and desperate as ever heard by living ears, I would not have broken free of the spell.  It was by his pride then that Glaurung was felled.  For he wished to skewer me upon his claws, and unleashed not his breath, which would have slain me even there."

"This accomplishment is high, indeed, and thou art truly great among Men, Turambar," said Mablung, who was yet amazed by the deed.  "But I say to thee: thou shalt enter into Thingol's kingdom, and only by his judgment wilt thou take thy leave."

Túrin accepted the words of Mablung and gathered the last of the house of Orodreth, and Mablung led them forth from Amon Rûdh into Doriath itself, where unbeknownst to Túrin, Morwen and Nienor, his mother and sister, awaited.

Translations:

1) Mormegil: Name of Túrin in Nargothrond ere his right name was revealed by Gwindor, which means, "the Black Sword"

2) ellethbain Nargothronduin: Beautiful Elf-maid of Nargothrond