No Dreams In Darkness by cuarthol

Taur-nu-Fuin

Prompt: Never laugh at live dragons

(warning for somewhat gruesome references in this chapter)

The great trees burned for far longer than the plain had, and it was as important to be wary of one falling on you as to mind the spears and arrows of the enemy.  Sparks flew and branches fell and the sound of battle drifted from far away.

She kept tramping toward it but never quite seemed to reach it, and the masses of her kin spread out over greater and greater areas, growing thinner, dividing into pockets and driving into the bright-eyed Elves and the fierce Men who fell before their onslaught not because of weakness but out of sheer overwhelming numbers.

One benefit - or perhaps downside, she was not quite certain yet - was the fires had cooked some of them nicely and when no whips drove them from behind, some stopped and feasted on the dead.

It was better eating than they had ever enjoyed - fresh, clean meat that they could savor, and plenty to go around.  Not that it stopped fights from breaking out regardless.

As bellies filled and care waned, some began to chat lowly among their little groups.  There was speculation on how long this feast might last, others grumbling that no matter how much there was soon they would be driven from it again. 

One laughed about whether Glaurung’s belly would be so full he wouldn’t be able to slither himself back into the gates of Angband.  Another warned him against being too flippant, as he’d likely be in Glaurung's belly himself if not careful.

Kurn had managed to get hold of a chunk of leg and shuffle off into a hollow where she listened to their conversation, chuckling a little at the images it conjured and glad she was not where the dragon was.  Away east, it seemed, in the hills which led further south.

With her own hunger quenched, she settled further into her little hollow, thinking perhaps she might not be noticed or missed for a few hours of sleep.

When she woke the sun had gone down again and the smoke was settled thick over all the land, burning her lungs and eyes.  She crawled out of the little nest she had managed and looked around, but everything was quiet and dark but for the glow of the fire that continued to burn in the trees.

A gurgled little laugh escaped her lips before she bit it back.

She crept carefully through the burning landscape, wanting to neither run into an enemy nor into her own.  It was inevitable that she would find one, she felt, and began to wonder if a lash at the back was truly preferable to a sword at the front.

She scrambled up, up, up the rising smoke-darkened hills until a misplaced step sent her tumbling into the ravine, bumped and scraped all the way down.