They were born free, yet Fate abides, like the hangman's noose.
: the soul, unrelieved of suffering, shrivels, grows husk dry. Tears find no more purchase; the soul hardens as drought-blighted earth and no more opens or gives forth, lest even little loves shatter it.
Nienna dogged Túrin, yet sorrow that scorns pity kills. Húrin she strove with every tortured step, yet her gifts he refused, following Nienor to death by water.
Dry, dry, their wells run dry and barren! Húrin's House sows grief and greatness, itself reaps gracelessness – ruin worse than nothing!
This is a work of fan fiction, written because the author has an abiding love for the works of J R R Tolkien. The characters, settings, places, and languages used in this work are the property of the Tolkien Estate, Tolkien Enterprises, and possibly New Line Cinema, except for certain original characters who belong to the author of the said work. The author will not receive any money or other remuneration for presenting the work on this archive site. The work is the intellectual property of the author, is available solely for the enjoyment of Henneth Annûn Story Archive readers, and may not be copied or redistributed by any means without the explicit written consent of the author.