Disclaimer: I am not J.R.R. Tolkien and I make nothing from this but my own entertainment.
– fighting and losing, losing terribly, a sea of smoke and fire – lightning vivid, a hammer shattering the dark – and bodies falling all around, the smash of iron and thunder, her ears assailed by screams –
– the Dark Lord on his knees, terrible in defeat –
– she took to wing. Not her huge, ragged wings that blotted out the stars, but wings soft and dark, mere tissues of skin. They were fighting and falling. She darted through the broken night.
Finally silence fell. Still she trembled in her lair. She was so thirsty.
Blood dripped through rent iron, puddling on ruined stone.