At length did those noises of horror cease, and there arose a great smoking, for Glorund was dying. Then in utter hardihood did Turambar creep out alone from his hiding, for in the agony of the Foalуkл his sword was dragged from his hand ere he might withdraw it, and he cherished Gurtholfin beyond all his possessions, for all things died, or man or beast, whom once its edges bit. Now Turambar saw where the dragon lay, and he was stretched out stiff upon his side, and Gurtholfin stood yet in his belly; but he breathed still.

Nonetheless Turambar creeping up set his foot upon his body and withdrew Gurtholfin hardly with all his strength, and as he did so he said in the triumph of his heart: “Now do we meet again, O Glorund, thou and I, Turambar, who was once named brave”²⁹ but even as he spake the evil blood spouted from that wound upon his hand and burnt it, and it was withered, so that for the sudden pain he cried aloud. Then the Foalуkл opening his dread eyes looked upon him, and he fell in a swoon beside the drake and his sword was under him.

Thus did the day draw on and there came no tidings to the hill-top, nor could Nнniel longer bear her anguish but arose and made as to leave that glade above the waterfall, and Tamar Lamefoot said: “What dost thou seek to do?” but she: “I would seek my lord and lay me in death beside him, for methinks he is dead”, and he sought to dissuade her but without avail. And even as evening fell that fair lady crept through the woods and she would not that Tamar should follow her, but seeing that he did so she fled blindly through the trees, tearing her clothes and marring her face in places of thorny undergrowth, and Tamar being lame could not keep up with her. So fell night upon the woods and all was still, and a great dread for Nнniel fell upon Tamar, so that he cursed his weakness and his heart was bitter, yet did he cease not to follow so swiftly as he might, and losing sight of her he bent his course towards that part of the forest nigh to the ravine where had been fought the worm’s last fight, for indeed that might be perceived by the watchers on the hill. Now rose a bright moon when the night was old, and Tamar, wandering often alone far and wide from the woodmen’s homes, knew those places, and came at last to the edge of that desolation that the dragon had made in his agony; but the moonlight was very bright, and staying among the bushes near the edge of that place Tamar heard and saw all that there betid.

Behold now Nнniel had reached those places not long before him, and straightway did she run fearless into the open for love of her lord, and so found him lying with his withered hand in a swoon across his sword; but the beast that lay hugely stretched beside she heeded not at all, and falling beside Turambar she wept, and kissed his face, and put salve upon his hand, for such she had brought in a little box when first they sallied forth, fearing that many hurts would be gotten ere men wended home.

Yet Turambar woke not at her touch, nor stirred, and she cried aloud, thinking him now surely dead: “O Turambar, my lord, awake, for the serpent of wrath is dead and I alone am near!” But lo! at those words the drake stirred his last, and turning his baleful eyes upon her ere he shut them for ever said: “O thou Nienуri daughter of Mavwin, I give thee joy that thou hast found thy brother at the last, for the search hath been weary—and now is he become a very mighty fellow and a stabber of his foes unseen” but Nienуri sat as one stunned, and with that Glorund died, and with his death the veil of his spells fell from her, and all her memory grew crystal clear, neither did she forget any of those things that had befallen her since first she fell beneath the magic of the worm; so that her form shook with horror and anguish. Then did she start to her feet, standing wanly in the moon, and looking upon Turambar with wide eyes thus spake she aloud: “Then is thy doom spent at last. Well art thou dead, O most unhappy,” but distraught with her woe suddenly she fled from that place and fared wildly away as one mad whithersoever her feet led her.

But Tamar whose heart was numbed with grief and ruth followed as he might, recking little of Turambar, for wrath at the fate of Nienуri filled all his heart. Now the stream and the deep chasm lay across her path, but it so chanced that she turned aside ere she came to its banks and followed its winding course through stony and thorny places until she came once again to the glade at the head of the great roaring fall, and it was empty as the first grey light of a new day filtered through the trees.

There did she stay her feet and standing spake as to herself: “O waters of the forest whither do ye go? Wilt thou take Nienуri, Nienуri daughter of Ъrin, child of woe? O ye white foams, would that ye might lave me clean—but deep, deep must be the waters that would wash my memory of this nameless curse. O bear me hence, far far away, where are the waters of the unremembering sea. O waters of the forest whither do ye go?” Then ceasing suddenly she cast herself over the fall’s brink, and perished where it foams about the rocks below; but at that moment the sun arose above the trees and light fell upon the waters, and the waters roared unheeding above the death of Nienуri.

Now all this did Tamar behold, and to him the light of the new sun seemed dark, but turning from those places he went to the hill-top and there was already gathered a great concourse of folk, and among them were those three that had last deserted Turambar, and they made a story for the ears of the folk. But Tamar coming stood suddenly before them, and his face was terrible to see, so that a whisper ran among them: “He is dead” but others said: “What then has befallen the little Nнniel?”—but Tamar cried aloud: “Hear, O my people, and say if there is a fate like unto the one I tell unto thee, or a woe so heavy. Dead is the drake, but at his side lieth also Turambar dead, even he who was first called Tъrin son of Ъrin,³⁰ and that is well; aye very well,” and folk murmured, wondering at his speech, and some said that he was mad. But Tamar said: “For know, O people, that Nнniel the fair beloved of you all and whom I love dearer than my heart is dead, and the waters roar above her, for she has leapt o’er the falls of Silver Bowl desiring never more to see the light of day. Now endeth all that evil spell, now is the doom of the folk of Ъrin terribly fulfilled, for she that ye called Nнniel was even Nienуri daughter of Ъrin, and this did she know or ever she died, and this did she tell to the wild woods, and their echo came to me.”

At those words did the hearts of all who stood there break for sorrow and for dread, yet did none dare to go to the place of the anguish of that fair lady, for a sad spirit abideth there yet and none sets foot upon its sward; but a great remorse pierced the hearts of those three cravens, and creeping from the throng they went to seek their lord’s body, and behold they found him stirring and alive, for when the dragon died the swoon had left him, and he slept a deep sleep of weariness, yet now was he awakening and was in pain. Even as those three stood by he spake and said “Nнniel”, and at that word they hid their faces for ruth and horror, and could not look upon his face, but afterward they roused him, and behold he was very fain of his victory; yet suddenly marking his hand he said: “Lo! one has been that has tended my hurt with skill—who think ye that it was?”—but they answered him not, for they guessed. Now therefore was Turambar borne weary and hurt back among his folk, and one sped before and cried that their lord lived, but men knew not if they were glad; and as he came among them many turned aside their faces to hide their hearts’ perplexity and their tears, and none durst speak.

But Turambar said to those that stood nigh: “Where is Nнniel, my Nнniel—for I had thought to find her here in gladness—yet if she has returned rather to my halls then is it well”, but those that heard could no longer restrain their weeping, and Turambar rose crying: “What new ill is this—speak, speak, my people, and torment me not!” But one said: “Nнniel alas is dead my lord,” but Turambar cried out bitterly against the Valar and his fate of woe, and at last another said: “Aye, she is dead, for she fell even into the depths of Silver Bowl,” but Tamar who stood by muttered: “Nay, she cast herself thither.” Then Turambar catching those words seized him by the arm and cried: “Speak, thou club-foot, speak, say what meaneth thy foul speech, or thou shalt lose thy tongue,” for his misery was terrible to see.