‘On that day, the pride and host of Nargothrond withered away; and Orodreth was slain in the forefront of the battle, and Gwindor son of Guilin was wounded to the death. But Túrin came to his aid, and all fled before him; and he bore Gwindor out of the rout, and escaping into a wood there laid him on the grass.
Then Gwindor said to Túrin: ‘Let bearing pay for bearing! But ill-fated was mine, and vain is thine; for my body is marred beyond healing, and I must leave Middle-earth. And though I love thee, son of Húrin, yet I rue the day that I took thee from the Orcs. But for thy prowess and thy pride, still I should have love and life, and Nargothrond should yet stand a while. Now if thou love me, leave me! Haste thee to Nargothrond and save Finduilas. And this last I say to thee; she alone stands between thee and thy doom. If thou fail her, it shall not fail to find thee. Farewell!’
JRR Tolkien: The Silmarillion: Chapter 21: Of Túrin Turambar