Original subtitles

- Have you ever lost someone close? - My brother.

And my husband. Celeborn.

There's something under the mines.

Ancient and powerful.

Your father's passing has left us in a tangle.

The Lords of the Blue Mountains paid him vast tributes.

They're demanding to collect.

But there's more. You are not your father's preferred heir.

Your brother seems to be gathering support.

Theo. Lord of Pelargir.

Pelargir is no longer a colony of Númenor, but a fortress for its soldiers.

And I am its Commander.

We'll deliver a regular allotment of timber

for the construction of His Majesty's armada.

Nine Rings to enslave the world of Men.

As he... enslaved me.

Tell me where you have hidden the Rings.

And I will end your suffering now.

The Rings are beyond your reach.

As I shall be, ere long.

That is the full record of Celebrimbor's works.

The wisdom of all who ever dwelt in this place.

I would have placed a crown upon your head.

The Rings are mine.

Sauron's armies are roving across Eriador.

All Middle-earth is within his reach now. Even Lindon.

- What is this place? - A sanctuary.

Protected... by the Elven Rings.

The war of the Elves and Sauron is in its fifth year.

Sauron has marched his armies across the whole of Middle-earth...

conquering all in his path.

Nothing can stop his advance,

except the three Elven Rings,

forged without Sauron's touch.

In their powers of protection and healing,

two Elven realms endure,

Lindon and Rivendell...

fighting to hold back the shadow.

But Sauron has Rings of his own.

Seven for Dwarves, who so far have resisted his influence.

And nine for mortal Men...

who fall so easily to his will.

But the two most powerful kingdoms of Men...

have yet to declare a side.

Mighty Númenor across the sea

and Rhûn, the vast desert power of the East.

And it is whispered that in the land of Mordor,

the Dark Lord toils without rest...

obsessed with harnessing a power to complete his conquest

and rule them all.

Hail Sauron!

Hail Sauron!

One Ring to rule them all.

Three Rings for the Elven-kings under the sky.

Seven for the Dwarf-lords in their halls of stone.

Nine for men doomed to die.

All creation requires sacrifice.

Celebrimbor's secrets still elude us.

I want the Elven Rings!

Even one will suffice.

Expand the search.

Any Elf who ever met Celebrimbor is to be interrogated.

Every record of his methods studied.

Beg pardon, my lord...

but when Eregion fell, we put them records to the torch.

On your orders.

I also ordered you to bring me the Elven-smiths.

The Elven-smiths is dead.

All of 'em now confirmed and counted for.

Do you reckon... mayhap...

Celebrimbor's secrets died with him after all?

What is your name, Orc?

Marnûkh... my lord.

Marnûkh.

The answers we seek are out there...

somewhere... waiting.

The Orc who finds them and brings them to me

will be celebrated as a savior.

He'll be the Orc who won the war.

The Orc who won all wars.

Don't you worry none, my lord.

I'll... I'll find a way.

You heard him!

Come on, you lot! Move!

Captain.

It's an honor to see you, my lord.

It isn't polite to stare.

I wasn't staring.

Then what were you doing?

Taking the air.

Strange... to make war in such a place, don't you think?

Stranger still to celebrate it.

Is that why you dance alone?

I wasn't dancing.

I was sparring.

Don't you suppose everyone would be better with the sword

if they sparred with somebody else?

I'm splendid with the sword.

Well, as it turns out, I'm not so terrible a dancer.

What is your name?

Touch flesh first... and I'll tell you.

You missed me.

Keep it.

Celeborn.

Galadriel.

I want to live here with you.

This soil is exquisite...

and the rest we'd need but time to shape.

A spiral stair around every tree...

leading up to trellised homes at the top.

Bowers of mallorn limbs draped in silk.

Fields of wildflowers so thick they look like seas of colored glass.

But what of the war?

Wars will come and go.

But this place here...

It could be for always.

Always... is a long time.

Will you marry me?

Yes.

Yes.

I will.

Lady Galadriel!

They're falling back. Should we pursue?

Reform the line.

REFORM THE LINE!

CLOSE RANKS!

HOLD FIRM!

RING-SERVANT OF SAURON!

Get everyone out of here!

FALL BACK!

Your Ring belongs to Lord Sauron.

Give it to me.

The rest of 'em have gone, too.

Some Elf trickery covers their retreat, my lord.

Patience.

The Elven Rings will not protect them much longer.

Holding a hammer from Valinor cannot make you Celebrimbor.

You took part in the forging of the Seven...

and of the Nine.

But the Three... you had no hand in.

Without knowing their secrets,

you will never forge a Ring capable of mastering them.

Of mastering her.

How does that feel?

Knowing that the conquests that you so desire

shall forever elude your grasp.

You held back from me.

From your partner.

Partner?

No, we were never partners.

The machinery of your soul is missing a piece.

The one that allows for a true bond, a true union with another being.

So, in place of connection, you seek control.

But this is beyond yours.

The work simply isn't in you.

Even the Orcs have begun to realize it.

Actually, I think they're starting to pity you.

Lord Sauron...

the delegation from Rhûn is arrived.

The Dark Wizard accepts your alliance, Lord Sauron.

Rhûn and Mordor shall fight as one.

How loyal are you to the Dark Wizard?

It is said your ancestors ruled Rhûn a thousand years before he arrived.

When they refused to grant him a place of honor in their court,

he cursed their flesh and that of their children's children.

Do you really expect to gain our trust by asking us to betray his?

My proposed alliance was never for your master.

It was for you.

For us? Why?

Each of you is lord of a host of Horsemen.

Ten thousand in number.

Would you like to ride them against the Elves?

And the Dark Wizard?

How are we supposed to...

Your people were once kings.

Kings of the desert, with power over millions.

Would you like to be so again?

Yes, Lord Sauron.

Under my instruction,

nine Rings were forged for mortal Men.

Each bound with powers of sorcery...

strength, the power to walk unseen...

the power of life unending.

This one I offer to you.

Rings of Power are precious gifts.

I'm afraid Mordor...

can share but one this day.

How are we to decide who bears it?

Arondir.

Come here, come here.

- Bind the wrist, two branches. - Yes, two branches it is.

- Quickly. - Now, drink some water.

- Father! - Father!

You're here.

Yes. I was afraid I wouldn't see you again.

That leg needs athelas root.

Aye, my lord.

Where are the others?

This new Nazgnagôl, who was he?

I fear he may have been King of the Lossoth.

No.

No.

They pledged loyalty to us.

And now he is a Ring-servant of Sauron.

Just like the others.

Just as well.

We are safe here.

And what of the world outside?

Are we to close our doors and watch as the forests burn?

- We are doing all that we can. - We could do more...

if we had allies of our own.

Galadriel.

Míriel vowed that Númenor would return.

Míriel no longer holds the Scepter.

Then we appeal to her successor.

No. We cannot put our hopes in Men. It is clearly too dangerous.

But the Men of Númenor are your kin.

- Your brother's decision to... - Elros does not enter into this.

This is not my decision.

It's the High King himself who closed the door.

He may reopen it if you went to him and asked.

My place is in Rivendell.

I belong here.

Sauron is close now.

I can feel him.

I can feel his very Eye upon my neck.

He cannot reach you here, Galadriel.

What haunts you now is your own imaginings, nothing more.

I have not seen Sauron in five years,

not in the flesh and certainly not in my mind.

But I do know this.

He will never stop.

And we cannot defeat him alone.

Galadriel.

I see you.

I know your mind.

I would have placed a crown upon your head.

I would make you a queen.

You needn't worry.

He will not be journeying far.

Ill dreams?

Why are you not abed?

I might ask the same of you.

Whenever I closed my eyes...

I saw that boy's face, and I just...

Why are secret pains so much easier to escape in the daylight?

What is yours?

What happened out there today was not your fault.

You did not hand that boy a sword.

But someone did.

And had I not been neglectful in my duty to the Men of Middle-earth...

they might not have.

You fear for Theo.

It has been an honor to serve with you, Lady Galadriel.

- But I must... - Of course, Arondir.

Go to Pelargir.

Thank you...

my lady.

You never answered my question.

Your secret pain?

Loneliness.

Pick it up!

Come on.

Should have heard the wails that tree-talker made

when he saw we'd felled half a forest.

Could hear him bellowing for miles.

I trust you won't see my departure as an excuse to slacken the reins.

The work will continue unabated.

I hope, for your sake, it does.

My father's dealings in Middle-earth are of supreme importance to him.

That's why he sent me here.

Armadas don't build themselves, you know.

What of this summons we received from Mordor?

We are King's Men of Númenor.

If any more of Mordor's slaveys come about peddling magic jewelry,

you're to slaughter them where they stand.

Have I made myself clear?

As cut glass.

What a vile land.

You'll stop when I tell you to stop!

More over there.

- Pick up the pace. - What are you doing?

- Eyes down. - Sorry, sir.

You there, slothabout.

Twelve lashes.

Your glove.

Remove it.

Whom do you serve?

I will die... for Sauron.

No.

You will live for him forever.

When wearing his Ring,

a Nazgnagôl is both of this world and of another.

Your body is learning to dwell in both.

The pain will pass.

The power will not.

Be grateful for it.

What is your name, Easterling?

Khamûl.

Khamûl.

Fairest of the Nine.

We have work to do.

Durin.

Elrond.

There you go.

Send your folk back in a few days.

Narvi'll have eight more like it.

You do too much, old friend.

Well, not near enough, you ask me.

We are managing, Durin.

Aye.

Managing to lose.

I tell you, it's rank Dwarven pride

to think that we can stay out of this war forever, Elrond.

Rushing into it would be no wiser.

Durin, the Elves of the Greenwood report

that your brother's en route from the Iron Hills.

I know. I'm not afraid of Thráin.

He had two Dwarf-lords with him.

Of sizable wealth, judging by their banners.

I fear he intends to contest your claim.

Strange he'd contest it now, though, with the war at such a tipping point.

Gil-galad's offer to formally back your kingship stands.

No, no, no, no, no.

You don't hire a fish to stoke a fire.

No, this is a Dwarven matter. It needs to stay that way.

Am I the fish in this equation?

Aye.

The fish with the fairest hair.

Give my regards to Disa, won't you?

And the wee 'ns.

Oh, not so wee anymore.

Gerda just toasted her 17th.

- No. - Aye.

How?

Time crawls for Elves and mountains, Elrond.

For the rest of us, it's bounding away.

Then I shall return soon.

- Stay longer next time. - Aye.

And don't get your ears in a twist about Thráin.

I promise, we're ready.

No! Make it stop!

Aulë's arse, Gamli, it sounds like you're murdering whatever poor goat

you got that horn from.

It's a ram's horn, Da.

Well, ram it... somewhere else!

Mum said I had to practice for the welcoming ceremony.

If you haven't learnt it by now, your cousin Gila can play it.

Has anybody seen the gold beard thread?

Well, last I saw it, it was by Aulë's shrine.

Why does no one bother

- to put things back? - I smell something burning.

Is there something burning back there?

Who left it in here? It's all frayed...

You said, "Well done."

I said, "Don't put the bacon fat in until after the ale cooks off."

- I didn't! - Same way you didn't hang

- the washing over the fireplace. - Put that thing down before I break it!

- That wasn't my fault! - You said I could play.

Why does Gila get to? It's not fair!

'Cause she won't bollocks it up.

Honestly, the amount of headaches that horn has given me...

Don't fret!

Just go finish getting dressed, the pair of you.

When did they get so grown?

I was thinking the same about us.

This is the false stuff. Where's the good thread?

Agh. No one can tell the difference, love.

Anyone who says they can is a liar.

I just want you to look your best.

As long as I have you by my side, I look like a king.

Fasten me up.

You haven't worn this one since before we were married.

Haven't I?

Well, it still fits. Mostly.

Look, let's both just take a breath.

For all we know, Thráin's just coming to pay his respects.

With Blue-lords in tow.

It's Rings that're on his mind, not respects.

You've never liked Thráin.

And you've always welcomed him with open arms,

no matter how many times he blacks your eyes.

He's my older brother, Disa.

And he's all the family I've got left.

You need to be strong.

I will be.

My lords, ladies, and distinguished guests...

Khazad-dûm welcomes from the Iron Hills,

Lord Balbur the Beardless.

And from the Blue Mountains,

Lord Frór and Lady Freyja the Fair.

What a marvelous beard.

That cannae be real, can it?

She must have had it done.

And returning to the halls of his birth, Thráin, Prince of Khazad-dûm.

What? What is it?

What?

It seems he's fallen in with some old friends

and will be along shortly.

Would you be so good, Delvemaster Narvi, as to go and fetch him?

Now.

Prince Thráin!

Prince Thráin!

The King respectfully...

Tell my wee brother to ditch the swan dance he's hosting and,

and join us down here instead.

For a celebration befitting a king!

Nearly there...

Tell Thráin if he doesn't march

his princely arse to this hall this moment,

I'll pluck his beard out, hair by hair, and feed it to him!

Come on.

A princely arse?

That's a princely arse!

I'll give him more than that.

Tell the Tavern-master, by order of the King,

all inns are hereby shut.

And six ale barrels are to be brought to the Great Hall at once!

Only six?

Ten! Ten barrels of ale.

Can someone else... tell him?

- Thank you, my King! - You're very welcome.

Where are our Rings?

The Seven Rings your father promised. The Rings we paid for.

We gave your father half our mine yields for months.

Sauron had a hand in their creation.

It was over-digging caused by those Rings led to my father's death.

In a mining accident.

Aye. A tragic one.

Khazad-dûm will compensate you for your losses,

but the Rings have been hidden away someplace, known only to the King.

There to remain till we've a means of destroying them.

Destroyin' 'em? With Middle-earth at war?

Elves bear Rings. Men bear Rings.

- The Dwarves cannot be left behind. - Aye!

You dinnae' bring a dagger to a dragon fight.

"Pick 'em up, ya whelp-rats!"

That's what our father used to say when he'd find our toys in here.

"Pick 'em up."

And I'd always tell him, "Durin left 'em out,"

but somehow he always knew it was me.

But not even as babes would Durin or I have dared sully this hall

with such mouncin' as you lot have today!

Are you Dwarves or dogs?

Your king has spoken.

Now bow your heads.

Guards, kindly see our guests find their chambers.

Might I be permitted a word with my brother first?

Tell me.

None of that pish.

What really happened to Father?

I wish I could have seen it.

When he made that leap.

No, you don't.

What'd you put in the casket?

Cloak, axe and his favorite boots.

The ones with the squeaky latch?

I gave those to him.

Why'd ya think I put 'em in?

Your move.

It's funny.

I hadn't spoken to him in years,

but as soon as I heard I couldn't anymore...

it's all I wanted to do.

When they crowned me...

for a moment...

I swear, I thought I could hear his voice.

What'd he say?

Tell me.

"I'm with you."

You should've just told me.

About Father, about the Rings, Durin.

It's me.

You can trust me.

You can come out now, Disa.

I didn't want to interrupt, is all.

Bat wings! My favorite.

Durin, Narvi's sent word. He's waiting for you in the armory.

Don't cheat while I'm out.

Why cheat? I always win.

'Cause you always cheat.

Didi.

Don't call me that. Ever.

My husband might be blind to your pish, but I'm not buyin' a drop of the stuff.

What are you really doing here?

What? Isn't visiting an old flame reason enough?

There was never a flame.

And now there aren't even embers.

Come on.

It was so long ago.

Can't we laugh about it now?

There's nothing to laugh about.

Mum?

Gamli.

Your Uncle Thráin was just saying how well he thought you did today.

Aye. Aye. You...

You played that goat horn like you were born with it.

It's a ram's horn.

Aye. Aye.

Tell Elrond, soon as he needs more, to send word.

How long you been runnin' swords?

You shite weasel. You followed me.

Be glad it was me and not the Blue-folk.

If they found out you were supplying the Elves in secret...

You are after my throne, aren't you?

- Aren't you? - Durin, just calm down!

- You cave-crawling... - Durin! Don't be daft!

I have knowledge that could save Middle-earth.

Did you see it?

The Orc?

Thousands of Orcs bearing down on us for months.

Now the Rings show us one.

Why? What does it mean?

It means that whoever he is,

his actions will somehow shape our fortunes in this war.

But for good or ill, we cannot yet see.

There's more, isn't there?

We have fought Sauron to a stalemate.

And now his Eye turns to Men to bolster his ranks.

Lossoth from the North, Haradrim from the South.

Where will he turn next?

Rhûn.

Between the Dark Wizard's followers and your Horsemen,

how many can you bring to my banner?

A hundred thousand, my lord.

We could never hope to withstand such a force.

Then let us pray there is some other power out there... that can.

There is another wizard in Rhûn,

one who opposes us at every turn.

It is said his power comes from the Secret Fire itself.

Ride to Rhûn.

I will see to Gandalf myself.

Lord Sauron, another delegation of mortal Men have arrived.

Men of Númenor?

No, my lord.

If granted Rings, these Men promised to lead a rebellion against Númenor.

The Rings of Power...

are precious gifts.

Mordor can share but one this day.

Now is the mighty hour come.

Let the hunt begin.

The Dark Lord is on the brink of craftin' a new power.

What is preventing him?

Celebrimbor's secrets.

He's got armies scouring Middle-earth to find the answer.

I cannot trust an Orc.

We have no choice.

Then I shall go with you.

The Dark Lord summons the armies of Rhûn to Middle-earth!

Middle-earth will burn.

That death might well be the price of saving it.

Celeborn.

Where were you?

Trying to get back to you.

The Elves will fall.

His eye will turn to Númenor.

If you can't make your own subjects kneel, how can you make Sauron?

- Snuff out this rebellion. - I am ready, Father.

You made us weak,

I'll make us strong.

A Master Ring would give Sauron the power...

to govern our minds.

Come with me.

You and I can see to it Sauron never completes his Ring.

The Dark Lord, we have to stop him.

The shadow rises in Middle-earth.

How would you like to rise with it?