Agarwaen, formerly known as Turin son of Hurin, blinked as he entered the forge. It was darker than the passageway outside, and noisier as well. At least the ring of metal on metal suggested there was someone here he could talk to about getting his sword reforged.
"Celebrimbor," someone called, "you have a visitor."
"I'm just in the middle of this clang I really can't leave this clang can it wait 15 minutes?"
The owner of the first voice walked up to Turin. "My name is Carantir, and I am one of Celebrimbor's apprentices. What is it you need?" he asked.
"I need to get my sword reforged," said Turin. "It's a very unusual blade, and I was told to ask for Celebrimbor."
"Well, he would definitely be the person to ask. How is the blade unusual?"
"If I may?" Turin drew it. "I understand this is made of meteoritic iron by Eol the Dark Elf. It's dull, and nothing I do will sharpen it. I think it's grieving for Beleg, who was its previous owner."
"Eol, now that is interesting. I've never had the chance to examine any of his work before. May I?"
Turin passed him the blade, which they took out into the corridor for better light. After somewhat longer than 15 minutes, Celebrimbor joined them. His eyes lit up as he caught sight of the sword. "Now that's interesting," he said. After some discussion they agreed that the sword could be reforged and that Turin was to come back for it in two weeks, borrowing a spare sword of Celebrimbor's in the meantime. As Turin was about to leave Celebrimbor stopped him. "What is your name?" he asked. "You probably told me but I don't remember."
"Agarwaen son of Umarth," said Turin.
"Really," said Celebrimbor, raising an eyebrow. "We must be related. I often think I'm Umarth, and my father is certainly Agarwaen." He shook his head. "But if you don't want to say any more of your past than that, I'm certainly not going to press you. See you in two weeks."
A/N: Agarwaen: the bloodstained
This would make Turin the bloodstained son of ill-fate, and Celebrimbor the ill-fated son of the bloodstained.