Disclaimer: Lord of the Rings belongs to J.R.R. Tolkien, etc. I am only borrowing his characters for this fanfiction and am making absolutely no profit whatsoever from them.

Credit: Thainsbook dot net (formerly tuckborough dot net), henneth-annun dot net, thesaurus dot com.

Gwaihir the Windlord

Gwaihir circled Isengard in dismay. Ugly pits now scarred the once beauteous gardens, their sweet scent supplanted by acrid, billowing smoke. Upon the pinnacle of Orthanc stood an unkempt figure in grey, gesticulating wildly in an attempt to attract his attention.

"Mithrandir!" he cried, alighting on the towering platform. "What brings you to this high place?"

"Most assuredly not the view," croaked Gandalf wryly. "Saruman has betrayed us. Will you bear me from my gaol?"

Gwaihir nodded without hesitation, and Gandalf sprang gratefully upon his back.

"Come. Let us linger no longer in darkness!"

They soared noiselessly into the night.

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