Howard hissed as he heard the screech of the Fellbeast that signaled the arrival of the Witch King (or Tim, if you prefer). He swept out of the entrance and prowled up to the Witch King, who merely regarded him silently.
They just stood there, looking at each other, for a good ten minutes, before the Witch King finally said, "You've been dusting, again. Haven't you?"
Howard just nodded, mutely.
"Are the troops in order?" the Witch King asked.
Howard nodded again, before he peered around the Witch King's shoulder at the Fellbeast, who was eying some of his orcs, hungrily, "Digby's looking good."
The Witch King turned around and regarded his pet with a sense of pride, "Yes, he is having a field day with all of the fighting going on," he whistled, "Come here, Digby, come here boy!"
Digby stopped eying the orcs and bounded over, "Who's a good boy, huh?" the Witch King said affectionately, scratching the Fellbeast's neck. Howard just silently shook his head in disapproval.
The Witch King straightened himself and his robes before saying, sternly, "I believe the elves may be up to something, be wary."
He then proceeded to examine the troops, with Howard silently trailing behind him, feather duster clutched in a vice-like grip.
A few months later…
Howard mounted his Fellbeast (whose name was Trumpy) and with a few extra commands to the orc chieftan, took off in the direction of the Black Gate.
He had been summoned by Sauron wilst he had been right in the middle of multitasking; dusting the parlor and torturing the she-elf's mind. Apparently there was a miniscule army marching towards the Black Gate and he had to assist in it's eradication. He shrugged to himself.
At least he gets to beat up something, housekeeping was becoming boring.
In everyone's favorite Elvenking's castle…
Thranduil sighed as he looked out his window at the setting sun. The different colors merged into a beautiful shade of red and he looked down at his wine goblet, comparing the two shades.
He and the Lord and Lady of Lothlorien, had been preparing to storm Dol Guldur and rid the Greenwood of it's darkness for good. He found his thoughts drifting to the young elleth who had been taken to Dol Guldur, it had been over a year and a half since she had been captured. If were to be honest, he did not really care all that much, as beautiful as she was, she had been extremely rude to him.
Some part deep inside of him, hoped she was still alive, that maybe she had survived and that they would be able to help her…
Shaking his head a little, he refocused his thoughts on the matter at hand. He had his troops armed and ready to march as soon as the Lady told him when. He scowled to himself. He really did not like having to wait for others to give him the order to march. But it was necessary.
Somewhere in between Lothlorien and Smirkwood…
Lady Galadriel looked over to her husband and he gave an almost imperceptible nod, before turning and signaling to their Marchwarden, who in turn signaled the scouts to move ahead.
"Should I tell him that we are nearly in position?" Lady Galadriel asked Celeborn.
He nodded and she closed her eyes and reached out with her mind.
Aaaaaaand, back in Smirkwood…
Thranduil looked up from his wine glass and gazed unseeingly into the horizon as the melodic voice of the White Lady drifted through his mind.
It is time…