Labadal and Túrin: Farewell
Feb. 14th, 2011 04:57 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
dreamflowerHere is the last of my drabbles about Labadal and Túrin. Túrin was only nine when his mother sent him away to Doriath, to get him out of the clutches of the Easterlings who had taken over their home after Húrin's captivity.
Labadal and Túrin: Farewell
A bitter farewell we have come to. So young he is, still. How painful the world that one so young must become so hard. Yet to me he clings; he will not take back the knife he gave me. His heart is true. I am not noble, not one of the high men, though I fought in the Elf-king's army once. A foreboding comes over me: his child's heart will break, and of the shards will grow a heart of stone and pride. He is his mother's son.
"Let the unseen days be," I say, "Today is more than enough."
A bitter farewell we have come to. So young he is, still. How painful the world that one so young must become so hard. Yet to me he clings; he will not take back the knife he gave me. His heart is true. I am not noble, not one of the high men, though I fought in the Elf-king's army once. A foreboding comes over me: his child's heart will break, and of the shards will grow a heart of stone and pride. He is his mother's son.
"Let the unseen days be," I say, "Today is more than enough."