Original subtitles

Welcome to Mordor.

Do you swear allegiance to Adar?

There is no one left for us to fear.

There is one. An ancient sorcerer.

Set my people free, and I will tell you where he can be found.

So you can destroy him.

Mother. Mother.

A fire-mountain awoke.

The ground-shakes it produced spread through the bones of the earth,

collapsing our sun-shafts.

The hand of darkness has closed around Khazad-dûm.

We can't hear the mountains anymore.

At this very moment, all Middle-earth balances on the brink of the abyss.

And the Rings of Power are our last hope of restoring the light.

It's some sort of invitation...

from Lord Celebrimbor.

The Island Kingdom of Númenor.

Seven Seeing Stones there once were.

This one was passed to my father.

Who is willing to commit themselves

to our Queen-regent's protection?

I will serve.

- I will serve! - I will serve!

- Pharazôn! - Come with me.

Why didn't he stop this?

- He's loyal to her. Rightly or... - Wrongly.

Your cousin may hold the scepter, but it's you the people follow.

- With their help you could... - Could what?

Assert your influence.

- Take shelter! - The Queen!

No!

No!

Isildur!

Where is my son?

What is it?

What do you see?

Give him to me.

No!

You're going home. Do you hear me?

You're coming with us.

Please, Berek.

- Please. - He won't listen to you.

He won't listen to any of us.

Don't be afraid, four-legs.

We ain't gonna eat ya... yet.

Yeah, got ya.

No. Not yet.

Come on!

Back!

- No! It's getting away! After it! - No! Let him go.

That there's the Black Forest.

Nothin' comes outta there alive.

Berek.

My boy.

Berek, go!

Go!

As king he always protected The Faithful. I shall miss him.

You speak so freely of dead kings,

yet you refuse to utter your own son's name.

You blame yourself but you needn't. True blame belongs to another.

What is it you're trying to say?

So know this, our island will fall, and there is still time...

What is it?

Queen-regent.

Captain.

What do you see?

The nobles from the North are here.

It seems Lord Belzagar has come to pay his respects.

Hmm.

One cannot pay what one does not have.

Does Pharazôn have his ear or is it the other way around?

The latter.

Queen-regent?

Is this how we repay our fallen?

- It is only the beginning of our... - No!

Wait! Wait.

Tell me.

Who is it you lost?

My son.

- Your father's effects? - Oh.

I didn't hear you come in.

Possessions of the dead.

They become hallowed keys into doors that are, now, forever shut.

I remember when my father died.

Looking at a cup, half-filled with wine he'd drunk the night before.

It seemed a betrayal to empty the glass,

but he also hated wasting good wine.

So, I drank it.

Why are you here?

Show me what you hide behind your back, and I will tell you.

Nothing, cousin.

But it is time for you to choose.

Your gown.

Crimson, for Númenor's future, or white, her past?

What is the occasion?

Your coronation.

We have mourned the dead long enough.

It is time that we attend to the concerns of the living.

My father wore white.

That's all I can recall.

That, and an eagle.

It is rare for an eagle to grace a coronation.

Should one make an appearance at yours, it would be seen as an auspicious omen.

The white, then.

I'm partial to the red.

"Like the sun, rises a new monarch."

It will show the people you're a new kind of ruler for a new day.

They need change.

The white. It is humbler.

As you prefer.

She's the same as her father, she's never going to change.

She's suffered an infirmity. She's no longer fit to rule.

Why laugh? It's the truth.

It is the ale talking. It would be wise to lower its voice.

All the same, the boy's not wrong.

You were nearly chosen to rule in her stead.

Much of this land still believes that yours was the better claim.

And after Míriel's warmongering, many are ready to raise it again.

"Many" is hardly enough to supplant a Queen.

Queen-regent.

A blind one.

What if someone knew a way to turn "many" into "enough"?

In the event that someone did, why would they not bring it forth?

They might be afraid of what could happen.

There is nothing to fear at this table, my child.

Eärien?

Thought that was you.

Valandil.

You know, I thought Guilds-folk preferred

to keep to the more fashionable part of town.

What are you doing in the Old Quarter?

- We came here to bury a king. - Hmm.

The Valar rest him and keep him.

I should've liked to have been there.

Pity members of the common soldiery weren't invited.

Especially given the low class of folk that were.

Did you just insult my father?

No, I believe I insulted you.

I bled with the Queen on the battlefield.

I watched her walk into an inferno to save lives.

To try and save her brother's life.

You speak ill of the Queen again, it'll be you, suffers an infirmity.

Have I made myself plain?

Or need we settle this through other means?

Plain enough for today.

Well, I'd say that's worth another ale.

What was it you were about to say, Eärien?

I found something...

Something secret.

Something dangerous.

Something forbidden.

The preparations are nearly complete, Lord-father.

But... we are safe here.

We have a home.

Must we go to war again?

You told me Sauron was dead. Let us leave him that way.

There are some dangers in this world about which it is a father's burden to know.

And a son's burden to trust him.

Trust me, my son,

when I tell you that we will never truly be safe,

until we've made certain Sauron is no more.

As you will it, Lord-father.

Be off, will ya?

Damrod. Hill-troll of the Ered Mithrin.

Killer of stone giants.

Eater of Dragon bones.

Welcome.

I gather you received our message.

Where is Sauron?

Welcome. Thank you for making the journey.

You need not hide your troubles here.

We have no intention to take advantage of them,

simply, to, to render aid.

As you once did us.

And exactly what aid do you think you could provide?

Rings.

One for each of Middle-earth's most powerful Dwarf-lords.

You brought us here to barter jewelry?

These Rings will be beyond any power yet devised

by Dwarf, or Man, or Elf.

They shall be Rings of Power.

Power to heal your mountain.

Just as they have healed our Great Tree.

Elrond...

The mithril?

Mithril has reversed our fortunes.

I believe it can do the same for yours.

Perhaps, for all the peoples of Middle-earth.

If we provide you with a steady supply, is that the sum of it?

Mithril, for Rings. Yes.

A generous offer, Lord Celebrimbor,

but why not take it to our King?

For Durin the Elder has always been hesitant

to accept outside aid.

But if our proposal was brought to him instead

by one of his own...

My father and I are no longer on speaking terms.

What Durin means...

You'd sooner convince an Orc

to sit for a sun-bath, than get the two of us in a room together.

I'm afraid, I'd be of little help.

We summoned you here to help you.

Bringing your father a means of saving his kingdom

might be just the way to earn back his respect.

Perhaps, even your inheritance.

I'm sorry, who exactly are you?

Yes, forgive me. This is...

A friend. To the Elves.

And to the Dwarves. Nothing more.

I see. And where's Elrond?

Lindon's restoration demands his full attention.

Does it now?

I assure you, Herald Elrond said he could think of little else

than helping his Dwarven friends.

He speaks of you so fondly.

Funny.

He's never mentioned you. Lord...

Annatar.

Uh-huh.

Elrond said that you were the wisest of all the Dwarves.

Did he speak true, or is there someone else we should be treating with?

My Lords, you've given us much to consider.

Might we have a wee moment to, uh, to mull it over?

- I am afraid we... - Certainly!

Take whatever time you need.

What were you thinking? Were you trying to pick a fight?

I was thinking, whoever that Annatar is,

he doesn't know Elrond from a hole in the ground.

How do you know?

'Cause Elrond would never say such nice things about me.

Aren't you in the least bit relieved?

Uh...

Yes, but magic rings?

Does no part of this sound strange to you?

That's for your father to decide.

Be hard for him to decide about a proposal he never hears.

Is that what this is about?

It is, isn't it?

You'd sooner let our entire mountain roast and rot,

than have to say you were sorry.

You'd sooner feed our family slugworms, than admit to him that you...

I wasn't wrong.

I agree.

But you're wrong now.

I don't care if they're magic earrings.

If there's even a hope of a solution here, no matter how farfetched,

our King needs to know about it.

Either you bring news of this to your father, or I will.

There is a saying, in Khazad-dûm,

"The slow drip splits the boulder."

So give them time.

And time is a luxury we lack.

Supposing your High King were to discover...

What about the High King?

No, I should not.

No. Say what? Speak plain.

Your High King believes the Dwarves to be unworthy of this power.

In fact, he has forbidden the forging of any more Rings at all.

And the truth is he does not even know I am here.

Well. What business is it of his, how I conduct myself in my own realm?

- Celebrimbor... - No!

Countless lives are at risk.

We have not the time to bandy words about, convincing him who is worthy of aid.

Nevertheless, sooner or later, Gil-galad will discover the truth.

Supposing he doesn't?

What are you doing?

I am congratulating the High King on the efficacy of The Three

and telling him that I am closing up the forge.

With a promise to join him in Lindon as soon as possible.

You would lie to your High King?

I would grant us the space to complete our work.

I have spent an age preparing for this.

I have apprenticed, I have studied,

I have reached the very height of my craft.

This... This is my moment.

Now, he will not take it away.

Sorry, sorry, sorry! I'm so sorry.

I thought you were an Orc!

It's all right. Doesn't hurt. Oh!

Doesn't hurt? Of course it hurts, I just stabbed you in the thigh!

Could've been worse.

- Here, let me pull it out. - No, don't...

- You're meant to leave it in! - Was I?

Yes! Whenever you're stabbed, you leave it in.

- I've never been stabbed before! - Neither have I!

You sure it doesn't hurt?

No, now it hurts.

Sorry. I, uh...

Here.

No, stop. I'll do it.

Oh! Ah!

Let me.

I'm Estrid.

Isildur.

You're Sea-folk. Were you headed for the ridgeline?

The survivors will be waiting for us where we made camp.

My father, too.

I think you may have missed them.

You don't know my father.

You've already been there, haven't you?

I was searchin' for someone too.

Nothin' left but hoofprints and mud.

But... I found this.

Here. And there's a path marked.

"Pelargir."

Of course. Father didn't leave, he led everyone there.

Your folk too, any luck.

I didn't see any ships in the harbor.

Keep hope.

There's no telling who we'll find down there.

You hoping to find kin as well?

My betrothed.

Don't.

- What's happened? - Orcs.

Was on me way to Pelargir when they waylaid me.

- Took everything. - Can you travel?

Look at me.

We ought to keep movin'.

Least we can do is give him something to eat.

Ah!

Estrid, go!

Grab hold!

Berek!

You should've listened to the girl.

Go! Get the horse. Get on. Go! Let's go.

Move. Get down. Come on. Let's go. Come on. Come on.

Thank you.

It's Isildur. Remember?

Elven memories do not dim.

Wildmen outnumber us many to one in these woods.

My horse. I can't abandon him.

Settle your own affairs as seems you best.

I have my own to attend to.

In Pelargir.

What affairs?

Narvi, Narvi! Tell the King about the weans.

We're doin' what we can. I see.

Well, we'll do what we can.

I know, I know.

Narvi, does the King know the children are hungry?

Have patience.

Narvi, come on.

Speak the truth, Narvi.

I'm speaking with the King now.

Speak to the King on our behalf.

Narvi.

Sire. The food-merchants are outside.

Um, they're going to petition you to open the royal grain-reserves.

How long will the reserves last?

By most accounts... Three months.

Send them in.

Sire.

You can go.

Celebrimbor claims these Rings will give us the power to solve our dilemma.

I felt it my duty as a Dwarf to bring you his offer.

Is that all you come to say?

No.

What else?

That I am your son.

I'm hard as you, stubborn as you.

As crusted with pride. And, uh...

I was wrong.

I was wrong to disrespect you.

And...

I'm sorry.

You look terrible.

Miners have calloused fists.

Their punches land hard.

Wait till your children grow up.

Father, uh...

this power in Eregion, I don't trust it.

You told me once,

the fate of Elves is decided by wiser minds than our own.

That to try and alter it, to try and cheat death,

might lead to an even greater catastrophe.

I keep wondering...

What if you were right?

Did your mother teach you how to do this?

What happened?

What d'you think happened?

I failed. Failed to stop Adar. Failed... to protect her.

I thought she was getting better.

There is a foulness in Orc arrows not easily forgotten by human flesh.

Pleases me to see you, Isildur.

So few who slept in the fire made it this far,

save those who took the Mark of Adar.

I wish I could share my relief with your father.

He did not abandon you.

Númenor will return.

Your family will be whole again.

These people are fortunate you're here.

This village needs a healer.

Their healer just burned on a pyre.

What do you know of Beleriand?

Elf-city, wasn't it?

An entire Elf-realm.

I was born there.

Now, it lies under the wave.

After it fell, I felt such anger.

Toward Morgoth.

But I felt the most anger towards myself.

It is a thirst that can never be slaked, Theo.

And in the end it will drink you dry.

All right, yeah. More can do it in the same time, yeah.

All those years you were watching us...

d'you ever know my father?

No. I did not.

Neither did I.

But I know this much, he wasn't you.

And anything you were to me, is ashes now.

So for my part, we don't ever need to speak again.

Fetch me some more of that wood, lad.

Yeah, from that pile there. Yeah.

This is from old Númenor.

Some fountain. Barely spits a drop.

It's not a fountain. It's an aqueduct.

It's supposed to bring water into your homes.

Men can't build things like that.

In Númenor, we can. You should see it.

If it's so grand, why'd you leave?

Heard there were grander things in Middle-earth.

D'you really want your horse back?

You know where he is?

Meet me here. Tonight. Moonrise.

Bring a sword.

Don't burn yourself.

Any word of your intended?

No.

He'll make it. If he's even half as strong as you, I'm certain of it.

I'm not so strong as you think.

It's hard, not to blame myself.

What for?

Being alive.

For surviving. When so many others didn't.

I was ten when I lost my mother.

Swam out further than I was supposed to.

Got caught in a riptide.

She drowned.

Saving my life.

After my mum...

I keep wondering what it's like for her now.

Sometimes, I see mine in dreams.

You seem to have found peace with it.

No.

The truth is, what I just told you,

back home, nobody knows.

I just told them she drowned.

Nobody knows it was my fault.

Ever since, I've felt bound.

To try and do something singular.

Something special.

To try and find a way to earn what she did.

I don't know if you can earn a thing like that.

I think you just have to accept it, as a gift.

One she gave freely because you were precious to her.

Isildur.

Someone's out there.

Just them trotters we stole. I'll quiet 'em down again.

Share your fire?

What are you doin' out here in the dark, boy?

Lose your mum?

I'm one o' you.

I serve Adar.

That's not Adar's brand.

It's proof I've done more for him than any of you can claim.

Try us.

Look how well-fed he is. I'll wager this one comes from Pelargir.

Are you here to attack us, lad? Same as your folk done the others?

We've never attacked you.

You attacked three of our camps.

Hold him!

No!

It's an ambush!

Help!

Isildur!

Theo! Theo!

Queen of lies!

She's unfit to rule!

No voice but the prayer of a king or a queen

is permitted during this ceremony.

And yet...

the grief of Númenor is sacred to me.

Your pain, a prayer within these walls.

I hear your sorrow, and your anger.

I share it.

We have bloodied and been bloodied.

But know this... We will find our course.

Should there be another among us who feels moved to speak...

firstly ask yourself this,

for whom do you cry out?

For those we have already buried?

For your kingdom?

Or for yourself?

For Isildur.

With his dying words, the King spoke to me,

and said it was from this... she took counsel.

It is because of this, our kinsmen died in Middle-earth!

This Elf-stone is your queen!

Silence!

Lies.

Númenor's true ruler would never place trust in an Elvish artifact.

Take it away and destroy it.

No!

The palantír is mine.

We need it.

- Elf sorcery! - Murderer!

Queen of lies! Queen of lies!

- Dark magic! - To the Queen.

- Stop! Stop! - Stand down.

Míriel!

- My Queen! - Míriel!

Save my Queen!

Míriel!

Take my hand.

Míriel! Míriel!

Pharazôn! Pharazôn! Pharazôn! Pharazôn!

The eagle favors Pharazôn!

Pharazôn! Pharazôn! Pharazôn! Pharazôn!

Pharazôn! Pharazôn! Pharazôn! Pharazôn! Pharazôn!

Pharazôn! Pharazôn! Pharazôn! Pharazôn!

Pharazôn! Pharazôn! Pharazôn! Pharazôn!

Pharazôn! Pharazôn! Pharazôn! Pharazôn!

Pharazôn! Pharazôn! Pharazôn! Pharazôn!