Inspired by the Book of Lost Tales actually... I had the image of Elwing on the edge of a cliff with her hair flying wildly... so I wrote it.
Elwing turned sharply, long black hair flying around her. The NauglamÃr was clasped around her neck, the Silmaril shining brightly upon her breast.
It was what they had come for, kinslayers, murderers. They had killed her family, destroyed her home. She would not yield.
They approached, and she noticed with mingled fear and fury that they had her sons. Before they could speak, before they could demand that she exchange the Silmaril for her sons, she again turned, long hair flying as before.
And then, gathering her courage, resigned to following her family to the halls of Mandos, she leapt.