Tom “Da Bomb” Bombadil had a sweet set-up with the Barrow-wights. They’d pretend to run away when he came along singing a “magic” song (for which rescue he’d charge a pretty penny under the guise of buying something for the wife). This would improve his own rep (and prevent his wife from straying due to fear of the scary wights), and in return he’d just happen to arrive too late on occasion to allow the wights to keep their own rep as baddies and get some loot as well.
Turin was a total douche who did not deserve Belegs friendship, Thingols good will or the love of Niniel and that elf maiden whos name escapes me at the moment. He was like a spoiled rich brat who expected special treatment because daddy was a big shot.
The color of confusion is chartreuse. I’m sending the monkeys over with hair dye.
Of course I know that this is my reading of Manwe & Morgoth, if applied to Christian theology, would be entirely heretical. That’s why I named the thread as I did.