A Change of Direction
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Originally Posted by Alcarillo
When it was all over the Witch-king kicked Ringwraith #4. "Why do you faint so much? It's not like they would've killed you. They're gone now anyways, and we must continue our journey. We can't slow down every time you feel like taking a nap."
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Shaking himself to clear his head, Ringwraith #4 stood up. It was rather embarrassing to be fainting so much, but what could he do? Ever since he had been a wee lad, he could not stand overbearing stenches. And not standing them meant fainting and being on the ground. He was rather sore that becoming a wraith had not rid him of his sense of smell, but there was nothing he could do. So he trudged dejectedly towards the dungeon, where he had been instructed to go and get the orcs moving yet again. He'd rather be taking a bath to get the nasty orc blood off of himself, but that was a luxury the Witch-King had taken for himself first. And there being only one bathtub in the whole of Minas Mor-go meant that he'd have to wait for hours to get in. The Witch-King was notorious for taking excessively long bathes.
Regardless, after a little while (the orcs still had their shoes off, so he fainted twice before getting them back to work) he had Minas Mor-go back on the move and was up on the helm steering westward. It seemed like smooth sailing. He could see the Misty Mountains rearing up ahead of him, and was thinking how they were going to get up over them. Suddenly, King Eärnur's ghost floated up beside him. Annoyed at just his presence, #4 remained silent, hoping that Eärnur would do the same. No such luck.
"Are we there yet?" asked the dead king.
"No."
"So, where are we going, again?"
"West," #4 replied bluntly.
"True, but what is to the west."
"Mountains."
"Ah, true again. And beyond those?"
"The Witch-King's realm of Angmar." said Ringwraith #4, remembering how much he didn't want to be going west and thus forgetting for a moment who he was conversing with. "I really hope he doesn't decide to stop there."
"Oh, sounds interesting." said Eärnur, clearly not interested. "When's the nearest rest stop?"
"What?!"
"The next rest stop. I have to go to the bathroom."
"No, we're not stopping. There are plenty of places to go here in Minas Mor-go. Besides, you're a ghost, you can't have to go to the bathroom."
"Oh." The ghost stopped for a moment, looking off into space. "Do you have any Ád'vîl? I've got a horrible headache."
Ringwraith #4 looked at the sword sticking through the ghost's head. "You'd have to ask the Witch-King about that, and I don't think Ád'vîl works for ghosts."
Just then the Witch-King came up.
"Ah, perfect," said Eärnur's ghost, "do you have any Ád'vîl I can have? My head is killing me."
The Witch-King replied, "First off, you're already dead, so your head can't be killing you. Second, you're a ghost, so Ád'vîl won't work on you. Third, I wouldn't let you borrow any even if the first two things weren't true, because I have you here to suffer. Now get out of my sight."
After he had gone, the Witch-King said to #4, "I regretfully think we need to start heading more towards the Grey Havens. Going west will take us farther off of the course. I'm still thinking of sending someone to Angmar to rally some extra orcs to meet us on the road, but I don't know yet."
Ringwraith #4 kept looking straight ahead, hoping that he would not be the one who was sent to Angmar. "Sounds good to me, sir, do you want me to start right away."
"Yes, #4, I want us heading
SOUTH-WEST, STRAIGHT FOR THE HIGH PASS NEAR RIVENDELL as soon as possible."