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The world beyond her mother’s realm was wider than Luthien had imagined. The dark was deeper than she could have known, and evil stronger than she could have feared. And yet it was far less absolute than she had assumed. Coming upon the accursed things in Morgoth’s thrall, even Morgoth himself, she found not something other from herself, but only broken and ruined with pain. These were not heartless creatures, their hearts remained, unable to reach out to others, without anyone to reach back and touch them in turn.
Love may have no use for cruelty, she learned, but hatred yearns for kindness the most.