Bregur felt great guilt for the death of Helediril, for he wished only to stop his mother from reporting his misdeeds to the King, not slay her. Lady Helediril was laid to rest among the burial mounds of Haudh Eglan, within the woods of Annúndir which she loved so much in life. He visited her grave many times, though he was always keen to avoid Thorneth when he did so, either out of dislike for his half-sister or fear that she may discover his involvement in their mother’s fall.
Having slain the falcon who was present, Bregur believed the secret was safe with him. However, there was another who bore witness to what had transpired- a bat sent by the Witch-king to spy upon Fornost’s defences. This spy saw more than he could have expected and brought it all back to his master. In this way the enemy learned of Bregur’s evil deed and the Witch-king plotted to exploit it.
As the army of Angmar awaited reinforcements at Ost Galumar, the Witch-king sent out his warbands once again to raid Ost Lagoros and the nearby farmsteads. Thus, the Rangers of Arthedain were drawn to southern Annúndir. While the Rangers were occupied, the Witch-king himself snuck into the depths of the woods and sent forth one of his evil spirits into the body of an ancestor of Helediril.
One day, when Bregur was alone at Haudh Eglan, the wight sprung forth from the barrow. The Knight of Arthedain drew his blade, but the spirit spoke and bid him to hold.
“I am your forefather, Agarlad son of Orthonn,” cried the wight. “I have risen to speak with you.”
In his guilt and grief, Bregur did not recognize this as a trick of the Witch-king and took the spirit for the voice of a true member of the House of Rochanar. He asked, “Have you come to rebuke me for what occurred with Helediril? You need not, for I know the wrongs I have committed.”
But the wight shook his head and said, “No. Helediril had lost her way, as have Arvedui and the other descendants of Númenor in this pitiful kingdom.”
At this, Bregur stared in surprise, “What mean you? Surely you cannot approve of what has transpired upon the watch-tower?”
“I do not disapprove either,” answered the spirit. “If your mother and your King have their way, your half-blooded sister shall be heir to our house in place of a son of Númenor.”
“That will never come to pass under my watch,” Bregur vowed. “The work of the Rangers is dangerous. I shall find another way to ensure she does not have the chance to contest me.”
“Will that be enough?” said the wight. “What of the other houses of our people? The problem lies with your King. Arvedui is weak. His father knew this, for did Araphant not name his son Last King?”
“And what will you have me do? The House of Rochanar has no claim to the throne.”
“There is one who does,” the spirit stated. “The Lord of Angmar has the blood of Númenor and reigned once as a King over our people.”
Bregur laughed, though he found no humour in the wight’s words, “The Witch-king commands orcs and trolls! You would have me believe he is a better ruler than Arvedui?”
“It takes great discipline to command creatures such as these, and he does so only to regain what is rightfully his. When he has rule over Arthedain, he will have no need of orcs or trolls or even Hill-men. He will restore glory to our people!”
The Knight of Arthedain began to suspect the spirit’s intentions then and raised his blade once more. He clove the wight in half, yet the spirit was still able to speak through its mouth, “Heed me, heir of Rochanar! You need not raise arms against your King or your people. Simply open for Angmar the gates of Ost Nuaran, and the True King will reward you greatly. Surely you see the fate that awaits Arvedui. Will you die with your doomed King, or will you serve your new ruler as his right hand?”
That stirred Bregur’s desire for glory and greatness once more, for he did not completely destroy the wight and ran back to Ost Nuaran. He thought over the spirit’s proposal for many days, but the Witch-king knew that he had captured the knight’s heart, at least for the moment.
And so the Witch-king took a risk. When the numbers of his army were finally restored by reinforcements out of Angmar, he marched upon Annúndir rather than Minas Vrûn, where much of Arthedain’s remaining soldiers had gathered to hold him back. As expected, the Rangers harried them every step of the way through the woods and the Witch-king lost many men and orcs and even a pair of his siege trolls.
In the end, the Rangers of Arthedain were too few and the army of Angmar too numerous. The enemy forced their way through the forest and Thorneth had little choice but to order a retreat. They fell back behind the walls of Ost Nuaran, hoping that with the damage they had dealt, the Angmarim would be stopped at the fortress, or at the very least diminished enough that they lacked the strength to lay siege upon Fornost Erain.
As usual, Thorneth held the rear guard and was the last to safety, her arrow finding its mark in the throat of an orc chieftain just before she passed through the gates. When she called for the gate-keepers to shut the gates however, she found her cries ignored. Seeing her half-brother standing atop the walls with his serpent helm, Thorneth rushed up to speak with him.
“Brother,” she said. “Why do your men not close the gates? The army of Angmar is upon us!”
“They have been upon us for many years,” Bregur replied. “The days of Arnor have come and gone. This is the hour of Angmar. I will not waste my life defending a dying realm.”
“The realm is not dead yet,” Thorneth argued, still trying to make her brother see sense. “It will not die, so long as the King and his people stand and fight for it!”
Alas, far gone was Bregur and he laughed and drew his sword, “Rich words coming from a half-breed! Only mutts like yourself remain to defend the Last King.”
Then they clashed blades as the men of Carn Dûm streamed through the open gate below. Thorneth was an apt swordswoman, though her strength lay with striking from concealment behind rock or tree. In a duel, she could not best Bregur, whose heavy plate armour provided him another distinct advantage. Her blade glanced off his helm and the knight kicked her down, raising his sword to finish her.
Yet in that moment, Bregur noticed for the first time how similar Thorneth’s features were to their mother’s. He looked into Helediril’s eyes and it was no longer his hated sister who lay on the ground before him, but his mother’s broken body. Guilt welled up within the knight and he was unable to bring himself to strike the killing blow.
The Witch-king’s orcs of course had no such qualms, and a group of them ran up the steps onto the walls, seeking vengeance upon the Captain of the Rangers for the death of their chieftain. Bregur stepped between them and his sister and bid them hold. The orcs heeded him not, continuing their advance upon Thorneth.
“Fly, sister!” Bregur shouted as he raised his sword one final time, cutting down the orcs. He fought through the Angmarim forces, until at last he was brought down by their sheer number. By then, he had cloven a path for Thorneth to rejoin with the few Rangers who were still holding out, and from there she made it to the horses.
Thorneth escaped with only one of her Rangers, a Hill-man by the name of Faolan. The rest all fell to Bregur’s treachery, dying in the vain attempt to hold the fortress and later to cover their retreat or trying to retreat themselves. The other traitors of Ost Nuaran rallied behind Bregur’s second, himself formerly a mighty captain of Arthedain. Now, he revoked his oath to King Arvedui and swore his allegiance to Amarthiel, Champion of Angmar, bolstering the enemy's numbers after their losses in Annúndir.
As for Bregur himself, the orcs did not kill him, for the Witch-king bid them hold, and his bidding they did heed. They wounded him on the arms and legs so he could no longer stand or hold a blade, then they stripped him of his armour and brought him before the Lord of Carn Dûm.
“You shall serve me whether you will it or not, Serpent-knight” the Witch-king said. “For I will it, and my will is now law in this domain.”
With that, he plunged a Morgul-knife into Bregur’s heart.
