Chapter 34

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A horse's hooves pounded the hard earth as it raced towards the Lonely Mountain, the horse then slowed down to a slow trot before slowing down to a stop just outside of the camp. Tents scattered about near the entrance of the mountain as both man and elves bustled about, seeming to be preparing for a battle.

Gandalf slid off the horse, looking around in horror as he realized they were preparing to infiltrate the mountain whose entrance is blocked by pieces of stone. Gandalf grumbled under his breath, "What trouble have they caused now?" He began to push his way through the people,

"Let me through! Make way!" A man with a unibrow shouted as he squeezed past to men carrying sharpening supplies. "No, no. No! Oi! You!" Alfrid shouted looking up at the grey wizard as he pushed his way through to walk up to Gandalf. "Pointy hat!" He shouted, gaining Gandalf's attention. "Yes. You. We don't want no tramps, beggars, nor vagabonds here. We got enough trouble without the likes of you. Off you go. On your horse." Alfrid ranted, trying to shoo Gandalf away.

However Gandalf seemed very unbothered as he asked, "Who's in charge here?"

"Who's asking?" Alfrid questioned, his eyes narrowing.

"Gandalf the Grey." Gandalf replied as he leaned against his staff slightly. Next thing he knew he was in a tent with the king of the Woodland elves Thranduil, and the current leader of the current LakeTown Bard. "You must set aside your petty grievances with the dwarves." Gandalf spoke in a firm tone as he sent a glare at the elven king who just watched him with a cold expression. "War is coming!" Gandalf continued as Thranduil just rolled his eyes while Bard listened closely. "The cesspits of Dol Guldur have been emptied. You're all in mortal danger." Gandalf spoke as his tone grew softer, sounding sincere.

"What are you talking about?" Bard questioned, taking a small step forward towards the wizard as his brows furrowed with worry.

"You know nothing of wizards." Thranduil spoke as he stood up, while Gandalf merely let out a sigh seeming to know where this was going. "They are like winter thunder on a wild wind rolling in from the distance, breaking hard in alarm." He spoke with a slight scoff before, pouring a drink before looking back at Gandalf, no worry shining in his cold gaze. "But sometimes a storm is just a storm."

Gandalf shook his head, "Not this time." Gandalf began to explain as Thranduil raised a brow, "Armies of orcs are on the move. These are fighters. They have been bred for war.Our enemy summoned his full strength." He spoke with great urgency.

"Why show his hand now?" Thranduil questioned, his voice slightly raised.

"Because we forced him to." Gandalf answered without hesitation, ready to state his true purpose of bringing the dwarves to the mountain, back to their home. "We forced him when the company of Thorin set out to reclaim their homeland." Gandalf walked out of the ten, past the elf guards as Thranduil and Bard followed behind him. "The dwarves were never meant to reach Erebor. Azog the defiler was sent to kill them." Gandalf stopped walking once they had a full view of the mountain. "His master seeks control of the mountain. Not for the treasure within, but where it lies, it's a strategic position. This is the gateway to reclaiming the lands of Angmar in the North. If that fell kingdom should rise again; Rivendell, Liren, the Shire, even Gondor itself, will fall."

"These orc armies, you speak of Mithrandir, where are they?" Thranduil questioned as Gandalf let out a small sigh. This was going to be a long argument, if only this elf was Elrond this would be much easier. Their discussion inside the tent lasted till nightfall as Gandalf began to grow more and more frustrated.

"Since when did my counsel counted for so little?" Gandalf questioned in agitation. "What do you think I'm trying to do!?"

"Save your dwarvish friends, and I admire your loyalty for them." Thranduil answered, speaking truth as he admired Gandalf's loyalty to the dwarvish rats. Not to mention his precious Saharia's loyalty also lies on them, and now she is on death's door inside that mountain trying to heal. "But it does not dissuade me from my course." Thranduil continued, seeming to be telling himself that more than telling Gandalf. "You started this, Mithrandir. You will forgive me if I finish it." Thranduil spoke with much anger and coldness in his voice. He turned to his soldiers, "Are the archers in position?"

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