Silveria joins the battle for the lonely mountain and shows that not all dragons are evil and that even tho a dark lord creates them, it doesn't mean they'll serve him. She reunites with some she never thought would be friends and flys to the silver...
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Legolas and Tauriel leave their horses and scramble up a rocky outcrop. They crouch behind some rocks at the top and see a fortress ahead. "Gundabad. What lies beyond?" Tauriel says, glancing at Legolas. "An old enemy - The ancient kingdom of Angmar. This fortress was once its stronghold. It is where they kept their great armories, forged their weapons of war." He answers. A light flickers in a window of the fortress then disappears. "A light! I saw movement." Tauriel said; Legolas looked at the fort, then at her again. "We wait for the cover of night. It is a fell place, Tauriel. In another age, our people waged war on those lands." He pauses, looking pained. Tauriel looks at him.
"My mother died there. My father does not speak of it. There is no grave, no memory, nothing." He ends. Tauriel gets a look of worriedness and sympathy.
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In Dale, the people prepare for war, sharpening swords and collecting supplies. They jump out of the way as Gandalf gallops into town on his horse. "Let me through!" "Make way!" He calls. He then dismounts in the central courtyard and looks surprised to see men drilling with swords and companies of elves marching by. Alfrid comes up to him, upset. "No, No, NO! Oi! You - pointy hat!" He yells, and Gandalf turns to look at him. "Yes, you. We don't want any tramps, beggars, or vagabonds around here. We got enough trouble without the likes of you. Off you go! On your horse." Alfrid says as he goes down the stairs and over to Gandalf, who looks down on him.
"Who's in charge here?!" He commands, and Bard walks up. "Who is asking?"
A little bit later, Gandalf meets Bard and Thranduil in a tent. "You must set aside your petty grievances with the dwarves. War is coming! The cesspits of Dol Guldur have been emptied. You're ALL in mortal danger!" Gandalf bellows, trying to get the elven king to understand. The bowman looks at him confused and asks, "What are you talking about?" Thranduil then speaks up, his voice quiere rude as if he's mocking Mithrandir. "I can see you know nothing of wizards. They are like winter thunder on a wild wind rolling in from a distance, breaking hard in alarm. But sometimes a storm is just a storm." Gandalf looks at Thranduil.
"Not this time. Armies of orcs are on the move. And these are fighters! They have been bred for war. Our enemy has summoned his full strength." Gandalf says. "Why show his hand now?" Thranduil says, his voice harsh slightly. "Because we forced him! We forced him when the company of Thorin Oakenshield set out to reclaim their homeland. The dwarves were never meant to reach Erebor; Azog the Defiler was sent to kill them. His master seeks control of the mountain. Not just for the treasure within, but for where it lies, its strategic position." Gandalf says, and as he talks, they have left the tent and walked outside to a spot from where they can see the gates of Erebor.
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