Title: Morning's Glory
Prompt: 005. we just can't stop believing, because we have to try; we can rise above, the truth and the lies
Summary: Things always seem more hopeful in the mornings.
Author's Notes: Just a bit of Morwen/Húrin fluff… yes, I'm aware that Morwen and fluff are practically foreign concepts. I'm not a morning person either. I'm trying to write positive fics about Túrin (which I know is definitely a foreign concept) and this came about.
Morwen wondered if this was her infant son's idea of a joke. For the past five days, he had slept through the night, only to begin crying loudly as soon as the sun rose. Hearing his cries for the sixth morning in a row, she rose and walked through the door to where her son lay in his cradle.
Húrin was standing by the window when she returned, and smiled as he saw her holding the baby. 'Our son loves the dawn,' he remarked as Morwen sank wearily onto the bed.
'Perhaps, but I wish he wouldn't praise it so loudly,' she replied shortly.
'Here, give him to me.' Gently holding his son, Húrin sat down beside her. 'Túrin will be a great warrior one day,' he said, 'and a great lord. His life will be blessed, and men will tell of his deeds through the ages. What is wrong?' he asked as he saw his wife frown.
'I wonder how you can be so certain, when the lives of all men are touched with grief and despair,' she said quietly.
'Túrin will be different,' he assured her, and despite her doubts Morwen smiled at the hopeful picture they made.
