Burrowed deep within the belly of a towering mountain, a young dragoness slumbered. Each rise and fall of her flank whispered tales of peaceful dreams. Her wings fluttered unconsciously in sleep, the leathery web tinged with hints of regal purple. Her beak bore the same vibrant streaks, a touch of royalty in the primitive wild. Dangling off her earlobe was a pearl earring, an anomaly like a gem strewn across a stony shore.

The whispering serenity was soon shattered by the erupting chaos outside. The unruly grunts of wargs echoed through the mountain cavern, jolting the dragoness from her sleep. Her eyes popped open, and teeth bared threateningly until she saw it – a frenzy of wargs dashing past her den, their heels licked by the determined pursuit of elven hunters.

And just like that, she found herself propelled into action. Leaping from her cave, she spread her wings wide, flapping them violently as she surged upward into the open skies. The sudden draconic apparition sent the remaining wargs and orcs into a comical state of panic.

Their high-pitched shrieks polluted the crisp mountain air as they stumbled over each other, several of them tumbling off the mountain ledge in their haste. She swooped down on the unprepared horde, her claws tearing into them without mercy, their terrified cries echoing back empty and futile.

Just as she was about to turn back, a stinging sensation prickled her wings. She hissed, twisting her head to spot the offenders. Those elves she'd seen chasing the orcs had changed their target to her, letting their arrows loose in her direction. One arrow had the audacity to nick her tail, drawing a streak of thin blood.

If they expected her to back off, they were sorely mistaken. With a snarl rumbling deep within her, she collected a throatful of blazing plasma. A lead orc, who'd been overseeing the chaos from the uphill, became her chosen victim. With a swift swoop down, she did him in, right before his dumbstruck comrades. Better yet, it gave her a perfect trajectory towards the miscreants down the path.

Loosing the pent-up plasma ahead morphed their path into a streak of burning terror, the stone pathway falling apart under the blistering heat. The elves lost their brave front, their screams echoed around as they scrambled away, narrowly escaping the rain of rubble.

Just like that, the orcs' rebellion met its fiery end.

"Bring the dragon down!" boomed a deep voice, sending a shiver down her scales. Shadow swiveled around and let herself be guided by the wind, high above the forest of elf arrows. She didn't exactly sign up to face an army of ticked-off elves today.

But lo and behold, as she soared into the safer open plains, she spotted another curious pack. Dwarves, a whole bunch of 'em. And sticking out like a sore thumb was a tall, grey wizard. Disciples trudging through the dead plains.

A pang of sympathy struck her. A treacherous journey lay ahead for them, a journey through orc territory. Without giving it a second thought, she turned the wind under her wings, swooping down like a wrath-filled night fury onto the unsuspecting orcs surrounding the travellers.

The silent night came alive with the echoed roars of the cornered orcs as death descended upon them. Their lifeless bodies kissed the ground as their oblivious wargs registered the fallen masters, screaming into the dark before scampering off into the shadows.

The company below could only stand and watch in awe.

"Watch it!" squawked a dwarf, flinching as Shadow's wing nicked perilously close to his head. Shadow, in her heart-racing aerobatics, simply twirled around for another go at the orcish menaces.

With a triumphant bellow, she landed in front of the company. Her predatory teeth bared as an undeniable promise of violence, her giant black wings flaring threateningly as a show of her alpha-ness. The bright glow from her spine illuminated the now dreaded plains while her purple eyes flashed a warning at the orcs.

Charging up her inner fire, she let a plasma blast loose, a searing wave of destruction that torn through the orcs, wiping out hordes in a single breath. A few fortunate ones, unseen in the mayhem, slipped away, tails tucked between their legs in fear.

"Thank you." The dwarf leader's voice came out in a breathy sigh, the throbbing adrenalin finally seeping from his body. Turning to meet his gaze, Shadow saw the surprise etched across his aging face. She offered a respectful nod.

"Ah, Lady Shadow. Didn't reckon I'd see you again," he said with a touch of nostalgia. "You made it quite clear that dealing with our elder isn't really your cup of tea."

She let out a soft chuckle, nuzzling the old dwarf in good humor. "Well, Greyhame, it seems the world's changing. Guess the Night Fury needs to extend her claws once in a while," she mused, amusement twinkling in her purple gaze.

Her eyes shifted to take in the company spread out before her - a mixed bag of shock and curiosity painted onto their faces. "Ah, the company of Thorin Oakenshield," she purred, settling herself onto her haunches, her tail neatly curled over her talons. "Heading for the Hidden Valley, are we now?"

"And how do you know of us?" Thorin, the King under the mountain, shot back, suspicion cutting through his words.

Shadow answered his glare with a wry smirk. "Ah, nothing much. Just whispers from orcs and elves, rumors floating in the wind. And yes, that prophecy. What an enthralling tale, wouldn't ya say?" she chuckled, shaking her head in mock disbelief.

With a sigh, she leaned back, her gaze sweeping the group. "Fear not, Thorin. I mean you no harm. I am Shadow, a guardian of this grand Middle Earth," she declared, bowing her head in a show of respect. Then, she added, "And it would indeed be a sight for sore eyes to see a worthy dwarf reigning the kingdom of Erebor. That dragon Smaug's had his run far too long."

Then, with a fluid gesture, she conjured a soft glow that enveloped her, morphing her dragon form into something much smaller, much softer. The figure that stood before them was a strikingly beautiful young lady, her hair the shimmering dark of a moonless night, and her eyes sparkling like the richest, deepest-hued amethyst. She dipped her head in a courteous nod. "Nice to meet you all."

Turning to Gandalf, a soft smile gracing her lips, she offered, "I can lead you folks to Lord Elrond's quarters. He always has a place for me."

At this, Thorin bristled. "You expect us to follow you into the shield of the enemy?"

Amethyst just laughed in response, her purple eyes dancing with hidden amusement as she addressed the young dwarf king, "Oh, my dear Thorin, I, myself, am a force to reckon with. Trust me, if I'd wanted, I could slit your throats before you knew what was happening," she shrugged, nonchalantly. "As I said, I am willing to help."

"For what price?" chimed in a seasoned dwarf, Balin. He made his way to the front, an assertive grip on his scepter, his eyes a touch uneasy.

For a moment, Shadow glanced at him, her gaze softening. "Peace in Middle Earth. That's all I require," she stated, her voice barely above a whisper. "My kind has been hunted down to extinction. I am the last of the Fires. And with Smaug's reign, the last of Middle Earth's dragons. But know this well," she added, a new firmness to her tone, "I am not under the sway of Morgoth or the Necromancer."

Gandalf gaped in surprise. "You know of him, then?"

In response, she only nodded, a knowing gleam catching her eyes. "Let's just say, I've listened to the whispers."

And then, turning to the company – their eyes hung up on her every word, she presented them with a question, her eyes looking into Thorin's. "And what would be your choice, my king? Would you have me?" She asked, her voice softened, a thinly-veiled challenge playing in her gaze.