Laer: 1. Laer

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1. Laer

Premise: This is a poem about Beleg and Turin which occurs a bit after Beleg's death. Here's the catch: What *did* really cause Turin to come to his senses after killing Beleg? Was it simply the Ivrin, or was it something deeper, more meaningful?


O'er moonlit field and quiet fen
The form has come to walk again
Above, the moon is full and fair
Yet touches not his midnight hair
One gray of eye and fair of face
An echo of the Firstborn race
He mourns to walk and walks to mourn
A friend, who by betrayal torn
Has lost himself within the fen
To mourn who'll not come out again
With bow of shadow, quiver white
A bare shade of his former might
His sadness shrouds him like a cloak
To die for love! - 'twould be a joke
But it is not; in freeing friend
The form wrought his own tristful end
And friend's as well--in killing, died:
He sunk to madness, terrified
Of guilt which like a summons laid
A burden heavier than his black blade
And now each one doth mourn the other
Of different race, yet troth-pledged brother
While man moans treason wrought in hate
The Firstborn grieves his comrade's fate


The night is dark, all doth conceal
Save what the wheeling stars reveal
Below, they ripple from a mere:
Two poor met companions camp here
Their fire light and courage brings
But mirrors not from the pure springs
Which shirk in blackness from the hilt
Of blood-stained blade, bearer of guilt
The first is sad, but with bright eyes
A thrall who made to enterprise
His own escape; yet black his gaze
When it on his companion lays
Companion grim, soul struck with blight
Whose eyes upon the sword alight
And wish that it should slay him hence
To make for wrong small recompense
For better death than to be free
And bear this guilt eternally


The form arrives at this sad scene
And crouches by the fire unseen
He gives no call nor speaks no hail
Yet gazes on the dragon-mail
Of man who was adopted kin
And sits now mute and torn within
No tears are shed; the form can't weep
Nor long can he this visage keep
For pain consumes it, sears the fair:
The form grieves for his friend's despair
To heal and save him, time is small
So moves he to the man in thrall
And wraps him in unseen embrace
To give strength, so grief might efface


There is no magic in the hold
Save that of friendship, tried and told,
Forgiveness deep and love potent:
The form's last strength in these is spent
And as a river, warm with rain
Will coax to growth a fertile plain
And cause green roots to spring anew
The ghost's touch warms the mortal through
His whispers the mute ears awake
His love the thrall of dumbness break
And as the sun ascends the hills
And sets to song the whip-poor-whills
The form with smile bright departs
While his love to his friend imparts
A gayer change: his heart aglow
With the last gift he'd never know
He wakes and descends to the mere
And makes a song of homage here
And this he sings without constraint
Nor fear of capture, foe, or feint
Then by the spring he weeps freely
And drinks a toast to memory
Of friend faithful to his last breath
Who gave for him his life---and death


And so among the beechwoods green
Beside the Ivrin's silver sheen
The man called Turin, weeping, praised
His friend, and to the sky he raised
His supplication to the dawn:
Sleep well, Beleg Cuthalion!


A/N: Explanation (for those who didn't understand the poem): Ok, this was basically my version of what happened to Turin to break his madness after he killed Beleg. Sure, Tolkien says it took the waters of the Ivrin plus some consoling from Gwindor---I, however, like to think there was more to it than that. Say Beleg's spirit, right before it departed for Mandos, saw Turin's grief and wished to break it, to give him a final gift, and in that gift of spell-breaking compassion to waste all of his spirit "energy"? Basically, Beleg not only gives his *life* for Turin---he gives his *death*, too. That's what I meant in the 7th to last line. I love that idea---of a friendship so strong and so utterly selfless that it transcends death. I consider the Gimli/Legolas friendship to be this way, and I love it every time Tolkien includes these type of relationships.

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.

Story Information

Author: Fambrena

Status: Reviewed

Completion: Complete

Era: 1st Age

Genre: Poetry

Rating: General

Last Updated: 10/09/02

Original Post: 10/03/02

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