Original subtitles

He's dead! Come on!

What...

Up she goes...

Where is it you're from, anyway?

He wants us to help him find those stars.

Nori?

Duty demanded I return to Middle-earth.

It wasn't Elves that chased me from my homeland. It was Orcs.

Was that the mark of your people's king?

My people have no king.

All the far outposts are being disbanded.

Taking a last look?

It has changed much, Watch warden.

But the Men who live here have not.

The blood of those who stood with Morgoth still darkens their veins.

- Someone dug this passage. - Something. Men did not do this.

Get to it.

You there! Anchor him.

Toss him out with the rest.

You toss him out with the rest. I had sun duty yesterday.

You'll stay in the sun till you're black as coal

if Adar wills it.

For Adar, then. But not for you!

For Adar.

Rest's over, slothabout.

Now dig.

She lives.

Our hosts. Saviors or captors?

It's not poisoned. If that's your concern.

Not for humans, anyway.

One of the Eldar. On board my ship?

Strange tides indeed.

What vessel is this?

Be at ease. I'm obliged to deliver you safely to my betters.

They will answer your questions, not I.

To what port do we sail?

See for yourself. We're nearly there.

Nearly where?

Home.

What is this place?

There is only one place it can be.

The Land of the Star.

The westernmost of all mortal realms.

The Island Kingdom of Númenor.

Harbor speed!

- Is that an Elf? - See nothin'...

Since when did Men like me build kingdoms such as this?

These Men are not like you.

In the Great War, your ancestors stood with Morgoth.

These Men stood with the Elves.

As a reward, the Valar granted them this island,

which has changed much since then.

Do I detect a note of envy?

Not envy.

Sorrow.

Once, Elves came and went freely from these shores.

Our people were as kin.

Sharing gifts, knowledge.

What happened?

Númenor began to turn away our ships.

In time, they broke off all contact.

Why?

We may be about to find out.

Keep moving.

You would not want to be lost here without an escort.

Put it with the others.

Too hot.

Patience. Patience.

We are men and women of Númenor.

I suggest we set history aside for the moment and show some restraint.

Let's try not to antagonize these people.

Captain. The Queen Regent is occupied.

As is Chancellor Pharazôn. I suggest that you...

Kneel.

No one kneels in Númenor.

Sorry.

Speak, Elf.

Name thyself.

Galadriel of the Noldor.

Daughter of the Golden House of Finarfin.

Commander of the Northern Armies of High King Gil-galad.

Halbrand.

Of the South lands.

A Man and an Elf, together?

Circumstances arose that...

We are companions by chance. Met on the open sea.

Your captain, here, delivered us from certain death.

All we ask is that Númenor continue his mercy

and grant us ship's passage to Middle-earth.

It's been generations since a ship of Númenor

was permitted to make such a journey on an Elf's behalf.

It is because of the Elves that you were given this island.

What?

Surely you can spare a few planks and a rudder.

Our ancestors were not given anything.

They paid for this isle with the blood of their kin.

What the Elf means...

Then if blood be the price of passage, I will pay it.

But one way or another, I will depart.

I welcome you to try.

I have no need of your welcome.

And you are quickly wearing out yours.

- Guards! - My friends.

It seems to me that our leaving presents some complications.

Perhaps it'd be better if we stayed...

- Stayed? - Long enough, good Queen,

to give you and your advisors adequate time to weigh our request.

A few days, perhaps?

Three days. And the Elf is to be restricted to palace ground.

I will not be made a prisoner.

I would sooner knee-cap a stallion

than seek to imprison the mighty commander of the Northern Armies.

So, you shall be Númenor's guest.

Captain...

My gratitude.

"Good Queen?"

The South lands will still be there in three days.

But will its people?

Look around you. This is a paradise.

Ripe with opportunity.

You really expect me to leap with you back into the furnace?

You leapt into the sea to save one life.

I seek to save many.

I have been searching for my peace for longer than you know.

Please, for both our sakes, let me keep it.

Perhaps some peace would do you good as well.

But at the very least...

do try not to make any new enemies.

It would be wise to resolve this matter swiftly.

She is but one Elf.

An avalanche can start with one stone.

We dare not invite your father's cloud back overhead.

Tell me about this captain.

His name is Elendil.

Originally of a noble line, now a Sea Guardsman with a son,

if memory serves, set to follow him into the service.

Heave!

Together now!

Heave!

You'll have to haul a sheet faster than that if you want a spot in my guard!

Come on, cadets!

Together now!

Isildur...

Isildur!

Isildur!

Any cadet who earns their place in the Sea Guard

becomes more than just Númenor's protector.

Not that one!

Imrahil!

Portside! Haul it into port side!

Valandil! Ontamo!

Help! Pull!

Co-ordination, cadets! Back to it!

There is no harsher master than the sea.

The sea is always right!

The sea is always right!

Poor Imrahil.

His father is like to toss him out on the stones.

Blind luck Isil's not joining him.

Me?

Your mind was in the bleeding clouds again all day. What is it?

Just eager to get out there. That's all.

Nine more days. Nine more days!

We pass the Sea Trial, in four years, we'll make officers.

Ten more, we'll have our own command.

- Mmm. Eight more for me. - Eighteen maybe.

Isildur! Your sister's here.

There you are.

Berek, my boy.

Look who put down the sketchbook for once.

Aw, you didn't have to come all this way just to see me.

- Isil, cant in a? - Nah, you go.

Come find us later. Don't be like your brother.

Got your whole life to be an old maid.

Or to be young.

What are you doing here? Where's Father?

The Faithful believe that when the petals of the White Tree fall,

it is no idle thing,

but the very tears of the Valar themselves.

A living reminder that their eyes

and their judgment are ever upon us.

Do you believe that?

In my experience, it is unwise to live one's life

guessing after signs and portents.

"Elendil." An uncommon name.

From our western shores, is it not?

Mmm. It originates there.

Pray tell, what does it mean?

One who loves the stars.

That is not its only translation, is it?

In the ancient tongue of the Eldar,

it can also mean "Elf-friend."

And are you? An Elf-friend?

I'm a loyal servant of Númenor.

And yet, though Elves have been unwelcome on our shore

since the reign of my grandfather's great grandfather,

you chose to break with that precedent. Why?

It was the sea that put her in my path.

And the sea is always right.

The sea cannot commit treason.

With respect, Queen Regent,

given the circumstances, I did only what I believed to be most prudent.

If, Elendil, that is truly your wish,

then I shall have to ask you to perform a service.

These passages reach all the way to Hordern.

Possibly beyond.

This must be how they escaped our detection.

And how they shield themselves from sunlight.

They're searching for something.

Some sort of weapon, perhaps?

I do not know.

But they ransack village after village,

toiling nightly to find it for their leader.

One the Orcs speak of with near-worship,

even reverence, if Orcs were capable of such a thing.

It seems Morgoth has a successor.

"Adar."

Why would Orcs refer to their leader by an Elvish word?

Sauron was said to have many names in days of old.

Perhaps this is one of them.

There is more at work here than we can yet see.

First opportunity either of you has

to get a glimpse above this trench, you'll take it.

Locate the closest tree line,

and when the sun is at its strongest, we will make our escape.

If even one of us makes it home,

we can return in force

and sweep the enemy from these lands

like salt from a table.

Sew those lips and dig, Elf!

- These roots block our path. - Then rip them out.

Rip the whole stinkin' tree down!

Felling a tree will slow our progress. We shall go around.

Try it, Elf. And I'll make a map of your back.

This tree sprang from the earth long before you crawled

from whatever wretched place you grew.

It has earned its place in these lands.

Good, Elf.

Very good.

You showed strength.

You just earned your company a water ration.

Don't be afraid.

Surely you thirst.

There...

Tree.

Húna hravan! Húna hravan!

I will cut it.

I will cut it down!

Ánin apsene...

You will inform Pharazôn that she's escaped.

I informed him last time.

That was a dog.

Be wiser to steal the half-sail.

That skiff will hardly get you out of the harbor.

I assure you it's an improvement on my prior mode of passage.

Still. Can't let you take it.

I'm afraid the Queen has charged me

with seeing to it that you cause no further disturbance.

I believe she saw it as a punishment.

Then she and I have something in common after all.

We both wish you'd never brought me here.

I will take my chances on the skiff.

That would leave me little choice, but to shout for your minders.

Suppose the words never manage to escape your throat?

Supposing they did,

you'd be back at the palace in chains, even further from your destination.

Who is this mortal who speaks to me as if he has the slightest idea who I am?

I have a daughter who runs fast, and a son who runs blind.

Your eyes bear a striking resemblance to both.

Where I run and how I run there are none of your concern.

Anywhere is better than here, where I'm hated by all who see me.

So call to your guards, or get out of my way.

You're not hated by all, m'lady.

You speak Elvish?

Where I was raised, many speak it.

It is still taught in our Hall of Lore.

Still carved on statues throughout the city, if you look closely.

Your Hall of Lore, how far is that?

A quarter day's ride.

What is it you seek?

Did you say "ride"?

There is not another man on this isle that knows this craft better than I.

I will shovel coal if need be, I'll splinter wood,

I'll shape a sea anchor for you, free of charge,

sturdier than anything you have ever seen. How's that?

I'm here to start anew.

Lend me that chance. Please.

And I won't forget it.

You've a stout heart, lad.

But until you've earned your guild crest, you can't forge steel in Númenor.

That's him, isn't it?

The fellow who sailed in with the Elf?

It's you, isn't it?

Certainly appears that way.

- What are you called, again? - Depends.

Depends on what?

How close we are.

And how close are you and the She-elf?

You're on a lucky streak, low man.

Free sail to our island, eating our food,

drinking our ale...

What will you take next?

Our lands? Our trades?

Don't forget your women.

Look at the mouth on him.

Maybe he and the She-elf aren't so close after all.

Wager she'd prefer someone of better breeding.

You're right. You're right.

Here I am.

I'm a guest on your island,

and I haven't shown you the faintest bit of gratitude.

How 'bout this?

Next few rounds on me!

You're not so bad, low man.

Well, then, I best make my retreat,

while you've still got a warm opinion of me.

Men, ladies, anon!

Hey, low man.

Really thought I wouldn't notice?

Well, I thought it was worth a try.

Take it.

I don't want any trouble.

Bit late for that, isn't it?

I believe it is.

Hmm.

Please. Don't do this.

Why not? Low man!

Go.

Call me Halbrand.

Over here.

We're looking for any information you may have on this.

I will take a look.

You didn't say the Hall of Lore was assembled by Elros himself.

It is rather remarkable.

Of course...

You knew Elros.

An uncommon spirit.

But I was always closer with his brother.

Remarkable.

Thank you for bringing me here.

Thank our last king.

It was because of him this place wasn't torn down.

He was loyal to the Elves?

Is loyal.

We forced him from the throne for it.

They say he spends his days in the tower now.

An exile in his own kingdom.

There.

What is this?

The account of a human spy retrieved from an enemy dungeon.

He drew this. To record the tower's location.

Wait a moment. I must be blind.

This is no sigil.

It is a map of the South lands.

It is as Halbrand said.

And the inscription?

It is the Black Speech.

It speaks not only of a place, but a plan.

A plan by which to create a realm of their own,

where evil would not only endure, but thrive.

A plan to be enacted in the event of Morgoth's defeat...

By his successor.

Galadriel.

Matters are worse than I imagined.

Then the South lands are in grave danger.

If Sauron has indeed returned,

the South lands are but the beginning.

Nobody goes off-trail.

And nobody walks alone.

That's right.

Nobody goes off-trail.

And nobody walks alone.

Nobody goes off-trail.

- Come on. - And nobody walks alone.

Nobody goes off-trail.

And nobody walks alone.

Nobody goes off-trail.

And nobody walks alone.

Nobody goes off-trail.

And nobody walks alone.

Nobody goes off-trail.

- So it's not better. - And nobody walks alone.

Nobody goes off-trail.

And nobody walks alone.

Nobody goes off-trail.

We can't carry the cart without you.

We're going to be left behind.

No Brandy foot has ever been left behind.

You know, after I lost Rose,

felt like the wheels broke out from under me.

And then I saw you in the grass.

Right in this clearing.

You were so beautiful that day.

And in an instant,

I knew I'd grow old with you, Marigold.

We'll make it to the Grove.

All of us?

All of us.

How?

I'll stay at the front of the caravan.

And we've got Nori.

No! Look, once that girl puts her head to somethin',

Nothin' can stop her.

You lay one paw on that book,

and old Sadoc will use your hide to make his next batch of pages!

You got a better idea? The migration's tomorrow.

If you want to help him find those stars,

our best hope is in that book.

I don't want to help him.

He's a giant with a brackish temper, who sometimes murders fireflies.

That was an accident.

Now, I say the sensible thing to do is top off his food,

point him to the nearest human village, and "Fare thee well, stranger."

- That's not where he belongs. - And where does he belong?

- That's what I'm trying to find out. - Why's it your problem?

What sense is it sticking your neck out for him any more than you already have?

There's head-sense, Poppy, and there's heart-sense.

There's common sense and nonsense.

And if you're all out of the first, then you can borrow some of mine.

Rather borrow some star charts out of that book instead.

And you're gonna help me. Or would you rather I let slip to Malva

it was you who put fire weed in her toe cream?

- Hmm? - I'll keep watch.

Go.

Aren't you supposed to do your speech now, Mr. Burrows?

Certainly. I just have to fetch it from my cart.

Oh, good idea. You do that. Fetch it from your cart!

"Rested legs and full carts"?

No...

Mmm. No, no, no.

Ah-ha!

"Full carts and fuller bellies."

Mr. Burrows!

What is it now?

Oh, no, it's just, um, everyone's waitin'.

Are you all right?

Yes, yes. Almost done.

How much have you got left?

Just a little left?

Just tell them I'm almost ready.

Right. No! I mean left. Yes. No, I...

I'll tell 'em right now, go straight now.

Calm yourself, and get yourself some chestnut pie.

Strange girl, that one.

Most agreeable, honorable Harfoots.

Another season has passed in this glade,

leaving us with full carts and fuller bellies.

Some fuller than most, if we're being honest about it.

Uh, what else...

The Moon is very full,

so be careful where you're having your shenanigans later on.

It'll be in full view of the entire camp.

And nobody wants that.

I'm only jokin' ya.

And now, before we begin our next journey,

we remember those from prior migrations,

- who fell behind. - Hear, hear.

And should any Harfoot fall behind this migration,

they likewise will be carried with us

in our hearts and in our memories.

In life, we could not wait for them.

But here, now, we welcome to our circle...

Miles Bright apple.

Stuck in the snows of the mountain pass.

We wait for you.

Chance Proud fellow.

Yarrow Proud fellow.

Strap, Dewis,

Linseed Proud fellow.

Taken by landslide one rainy winter day.

We wait for you.

Daffodil Burrows.

Wolves.

We wait for you.

Druda Bumbelly. She ate the sunshine yellow berries.

We wait for you.

Blovo Bolgerbuck.

Bees.

We all loved him, but he was an ijit.

We wait for you.

Ma Hambley. Was making a sculpture...

We wait for you.

Nori?

You have lied, stolen,

brought a dangerous outsider into our midst.

And she lied.

- He already said that. - Well, she did.

But, no, he was lost. Hurt.

What was I supposed to do? Leave him there?

You must admit, Sadoc, it's quite extraordinary.

Have you ever heard tell of beings falling from the stars?

I've heard of beings who were turned into stars.

Never the other way around.

It's very troubling.

But what about the stars on that page?

What's it say they mean?

Nothin'. The pages are all burnt up. Why didn't you bother to read them?

I thought we'd have time later.

Who's "we"?

No one. Just me. He's my friend.

We don't need friends, girl.

We need to survive.

Without friends, what are we surviving for?

"Good little Harfoots, stick to the path, flee every danger,"

heaven forbid we explore something new for once!

Elanor Kellamark Brandy foot!

Our way has kept us alive a thousand years.

Our laws are clear.

Any Harfoot that breaks them is to be decaravaned.

Our laws are clear, indeed. But...

Miss Brandy foot is young.

With as much hair still to grow on her toes as sense between her ears.

Tomorrow we depart as planned.

And the Brandy foot cart will be with us.

At the back of the caravan.

- At the back? - At the back.

Wait, wait, wait a sun-sliver, now, Sadoc.

We have to talk about this.

Now, you mean the back of the back, or do you mean the middle of the back?

I mean the back.

You may as well have stamped our name in the book of the left-behinds.

There's a reason he came to us.

Honestly, Nori.

Do you see a destiny in this?

Do you think the stars reached down and touched ya, is that it?

Do you think you're special? You're just a child.

I know I'm not special.

I know I'm just one little Harfoot in a grand wide world.

But he is special.

I can feel it.

My darlin' girl.

Ever has your heart been like your father's.

But the tallest milkweed gets snipped.

It's time to pack.

Oh, no!

Oh!

- You will die, Queen! - Oh, no!

- Oh, no! Galadriel! - I smite you!

Oh, no!

Take that!

Galadriel?

The Galadriel? Scourge of the Orcs?

Never mind what she's the scourge of. Why is she in Númenor?

Waiting for a ship to Middle-earth.

Queen Regent's raised me to Post Captain, to keep account of her in the meantime.

You brought in an Elf, so Míriel promoted you?

Who gets to escort her back?

Looking for a promotion, cadet?

Nine days until the Sea Trial.

- Tell him. - You ready?

I'm afraid our north side relations have taken the liberty

of inviting themselves over for a feast to see you off.

- Trust that's all right? - I was thinking I might defer.

- Defer? - Just for a season, perhaps.

Did you know about this?

Well, I listen to him on occasion, so, yes, I had my suspicions.

And you didn't bother telling me about them?

- I'm only thinking about it. - I was talking to Eärien.

I've been carrying a bit on my shoulders lately, Father.

Is this really so tragic? Anárion told me you deferred twice...

Anárion? What's your brother have to do with this?

- Nothing. - Well, slightly more than nothing.

Thanks.

Oh, good gods.

I'll tell you what I told him.

There is nothing for us on our western shores.

The past is dead.

We either move forward or we die with it.

And do you think it was easy convincing the sail-master you were up to the task?

I never asked you to do that.

Yes, you did when you got into a scrap with the Queen's guards.

- They started that! - Or got thrown out of your horse training.

That wasn't my fault!

Actually, Isil's right, that one wasn't...

I wasn't talking to you!

- Pardon me, Captain. - What?

Message for your daughter, Eärien.

I know you've doubts, son.

But... But can you not trust that I have ever your best interest at heart?

The watery part of this world has a way of healing even the deepest of wounds.

The way it's healed yours?

In nine days' time, when the Sea Trial begins and that ship launches,

you will be on it.

- Father. - What is it?

I made apprentice.

I've been accepted to the Builder's Guild.

How? I thought the guild never reconsidered.

Isildur convinced me to reapply.

Isildur convinced you?

How fares the quest for peace?

Better than expected.

What happened?

Dispute about a woman.

Halbrand.

Don't start.

You do not belong on this island.

If there's one of us that doesn't belong here, Elf, it's you.

I'm not so sure of that anymore.

But of one thing I am now certain.

You are more than you claim.

I found this in the Hall of Lore.

That's funny. I found this on a dead man.

Thought the pattern suited me.

Many ages ago,

a man bearing that mark

united the scattered tribes of the South lands under one banner.

The very banner that might unite them again today.

Against the evil that now seeks to claim their lands.

Your lands, Halbrand.

Your people have no king, for you are him.

That's an odd thing to say to a man in a cage.

A cage you have landed in because you chafe under the rags of the common.

And the armor that ought to rest upon your shoulders

weighs upon your soul.

Be careful, Elf.

The heir to this mark is heir to more than just nobility.

For it was his ancestor who swore a blood oath to Morgoth.

I am not the hero you seek.

For it was my family that lost the war.

And it was mine who started it.

Ours was no chance meeting.

Not fate, nor destiny,

nor any other words Men use to speak of the forces

they lack the conviction to name.

Ours was the work of something greater.

You must see it.

All I see is an Elf who won't put down her sword.

Come with me to Middle-earth.

And together we will redeem both our bloodlines.

How?

You're stuck on this island.

And you're still short an army.

That is all about to change.

It is here, Father.

The moment we feared.

The Elf has arrived.

Off we go! Push!

Go on, Poppy, you'll fall behind.

Just give me a moment to get my breath under me.

Back!

Uh... Hey, hey...

Hey...

Friend.

This is it.

This is how we keep up with the others, all of us.

He helps us, and we help him.

Can we, Mum? Can we bring him?

Release the warg!

Free yourself!

Arondir!

Háno!

No!

Wait!

Bring him to Adar.

Adar! Adar! Adar! Adar!

Adar! Adar! Adar!

Adar! Adar! Adar!

Adar! Adar!