I need your oath.
The first traces of a new ore.
Elrond has been very convincing in his assurances
that Gil-galad bore no ill intent when he sent him here.
There is something more at work.
Go to Lindon. Find out what.
You're off the Sea Guard! All three of you!
Enough!
I just ruined my friends' lives, shamed our family name.
Go to the Men who have taken refuge in the old watchtower.
Deliver to them a message.
That your people may live if you forsake all claim to these lands
and swear fealty to him.
One day, our true king will return.
I believe the man you hold in your dungeons is the lost heir in exile
to the throne of the Southlands.
I call on you to fight with me...
-I will serve! -I will serve!
...before Sauron claims their lands for his own.
You have lied, brought a dangerous outsider into our midst.
We're going to be left behind.
This is how we keep up with the others.
He helps us, and... and we help him.
My great thumb. My great thumb.
No. Mi... Migration.
Like, mi-gra-tion.
Means, like, to move. What we do, Harfoots.
You see, we... we winter in Old Forest,
and mid-summer, we make for Norfield Glen to snail while the snailing's good.
-"Snails, snails"? -Snails, yeah.
And at the first blush of the oak leaves, we head to the Grove.
A whole orchard,
popping with bar apples, plums,
apricots, carrots, you'll... you'll love it.
Of course, the only trouble is there's a hundred perils between here and there.
"Perils"?
Like a danger.
You know, big folk, wolves, fog, rain,
hill-trolls, cave-trolls, anything that'll kill ya.
"Kill"?
Means to make somethin' dead.
I'm peril.
No. No, no, you're not.
-It's more... -No. Fireflies.
-That was just an accident. It's...
You're not a peril.
You're good.
I'm good?
You're good. Because you're here to help.
Nori!
Oh, great. Others should be ready by now.
Quick sticks!
Let's go. Come on.
I... I'm...
I'm good.
Poke me with that crutch again,
I'll pluck the hair off your toes in your sleep.
And I'll pluck off my ears while you're at it.
It'd save me listenin' to your snorin'.
Oh, stuff. I do not snore.
-Yes, you do.
Come on, now. Grove's not gonna migrate to us.
Might help us move faster if you sang us your mam's walking song.
Yeah, go on, Pops, give us a warble.
Oh, come on, it'll do us some good.
-The sun is fast fallin'
Beneath trees of stone
The light in the tower
No longer my home
Past eyes of pale fire
Black sand for my bed
I trade all I've known
For the unknown ahead
Call to me Call to me lands far away
For I must now wander this wandering day
Away I must wander
This wandering day
Of drink I have little
And food I have less
My strength tells me no But the path demands yes
My legs are so short And the way is so long
I've no rest nor comfort
No comfort, but song
Sing to me, sing to me Lands far away
Oh, rise up and guide me This wandering day
Please promise to find me
-This wandering day
-At last comes their answer
Through cold and through frost
That not all who wonder or wander are lost
No matter the sorrow
No matter the cost
That not all who wonder
Or wander are...
Lost
The tunnel is complete, my lord.
Your arm. Show it to me.
How does it feel?
Like fire, Lord-father.
I wish you could feel it like I do.
For soon, it will be gone.
And with it, the part of me that knew its warmth as well.
I shall miss it.
Summon the legions. It is time.
-Our enemy vows to attack.
In exchange for mercy,
we've been ordered to abandon this tower
and swear fealty to their commander.
I know I'm not the king you have awaited.
But if you choose to stand with me and fight,
this tower will no longer be a reminder of our frailty,
but a symbol of our strength.
Who will stand with me?
Who among you will stand and fight?
-Aye, let's do it. -Aye.
Stand and fight?
You will die.
I say it'd be better to take our chances
bowing to the supposed enemy.
I have looked that enemy in the eye.
He's not your deliverance.
You think you are?
Elf?
I'll say this for our ancestors.
They lived!
Together, we can survive this.
Follow me, and together, we will!
Come on. Let's go.
Come on. Follow me. Come on!
-Come on!
Follow me!
Theo!
It's our chance. It's our time. Come on.
With me. Come on, lad. Follow me, lad.
Right. Okay. Give me a hand, will ya?
Higher. Higher!
-Enough for that run, lads.
Ferry it out now.
-Father. -Isildur.
May we speak?
Why wasn't I chosen for the expedition?
-Thought you were going west. -Not anymore.
Not till I've done something worthy of Númenor.
And what is that? In your words.
I don't have words for it.
That's why I'm trying so hard to find it.
Why I'm asking for your help.
Wish I could provide it.
But we've far more volunteers than we could ever hope to accommodate.
Half the city wants a spot on those boats.
Slip me to the front of the line.
What are your qualifications?
-"Qualifications"? -Do you belong to the Sea Guard?
-You know I'm twice the sailor... -Do you belong to the Sea Guard?
What about the Queen's Guard? Merchant's Guild?
-This is about uniform. -Horseman's Guild?
You're being absurd.
While you were feigning fidelity to the traditions of this isle,
these men were living them.
Finding ways to contribute. To serve.
Something of which you evidently care little.
I care. I'm ready to serve.
Nothing would make me prouder.
But you had your chance.
And you made your choice.
-Risk Númenorean lives
for some grimy Southlander and a warmongering Elf?
Consul Pharazôn!
Why are you sending our kinsmen off to die?
-Pharazôn! Pharazôn!
-Pharazôn! -Come with me.
Forgive me for not sending word to you sooner. Been a trying week.
Why didn't he stop this?
-He's loyal to her. Rightly or... -Wrongly.
There are many who feel as you do.
Not enough to sway him yet, but given the right push...
Then it must be you. He will listen to you.
When I speak, his ears close up.
So speak louder.
Oi, Southlander.
You have visitors.
And where did the enemy head next?
Further south, I should think. Towards the watchtower of Ostirith.
I'll inform the Sea Guard.
My thanks, Lord Halbrand.
I'm certain your fellowship will prove just as invaluable once we make landfall.
"Landfall?"
Galadriel informed us of your aspiration to unite your people.
Did she now?
I trust she was not speaking in haste?
As a matter of fact, it was my intention...
My companion is merely feeling the weight of his task.
I have no doubt, come time, he will do his part.
Given that I've staked my name upon it, I should hope so.
Queen Regent, your father has requested your presence in the tower.
"Galadriel informed us."
I wondered how the queen knew to waylay me at her father's bedside.
It never occurred to me you'd hand me over for a guild crest.
You used me. After I all but begged you to let me be.
I have just convinced Númenor to send five ships
and 500 men to aid your people
and place a crown upon your head.
Many might assume you used me.
Find another head to crown.
I don't like it here.
Oh, it's okay, Dil. It's just the trees.
What madness made them go this way?
Rockfoot Pass must be blocked in.
Won't get any easier in the dark. Keep movin'.
"Easier in the dark."
Wolves.
Why don't you tell me what's really goin' on?
These woods have never been this bare this time of year.
It's as plain as lip fungus.
He is responsible, isn't he? The big fella.
What precisely do you expect me to do about it?
What you ought to have done at the camp.
-Take their wheels and leave them!
What's it gonna take?
Make a widow of somebody?
Or an orphan?
People are gettin' hungry.
Stay close.
Hmm.
Oh, this is very strange. Most peculiar.
Oh!
-You nearly caused my heart to burst. -Malva.
-We saw footprints. -In the mud.
-Lots of 'em! -One at a time, please!
-Run!
-Come on! Run!
Nori!
Nori! Nori!
Nori, get away from there!
-Nori! Nori!
No! It'll get you!
Hold your ground, Ontamo.
Make your father proud.
Their strokes fall like the Stone-giants of the North Moors.
And yet?
They are untested against this foe.
Perhaps the Elf would be willing to offer some instructions?
There are many ways to kill an Orc.
But for you, I will keep it strong and simple.
Stab, twist, gut.
Come at me.
We will see who can score flesh.
Anyone that does, I will promote...
To lieutenant.
Swordsmanship is about balance, rather than strength.
Fight with your feet. Not your arms.
The Elf is fighting a soldier in the square.
Don't plant roots.
-Keep moving.
Never trust brute force to best an Orc.
It's often easiest to outmaneuver them.
Well done, Lieutenant.
Never known a smith's aide who could do that.
It's not too late to stop this.
Your cousin may hold the scepter, but it's you the people follow.
-With their help you could... -Could what?
Assert your influence.
Sometimes the folly of youth is enough to make an old man weep.
Is it folly to try and stop a war?
It's folly to kick against the current.
You see, the tide may rise and drown a man,
or fall and sweep him out to sea.
The trick of mastering the current is to know which way it will turn next.
You all but single-handedly prevented our last king
from dragging us back to the old ways.
Don't tell me you couldn't sway Míriel's mind now.
And what makes you think Míriel's mind and my own are not as one on this?
Because my father would sooner die than take orders from an Elf.
"Orders from an Elf"?
When all this has ended, Elves will take orders from us.
Now, my cousin can go to war for Galadriel if she wishes.
I go to war for Númenor.
How could this be for Númenor?
Have you learned nothing?
Soon, we will save the low men of Middle-earth,
lift them up, and give them the king they've long awaited.
A king who will be forever in our debt.
Now, contemplate, if you can, how that might benefit us.
Ores, forests, trades, tribute...
I wouldn't dare stop that. Not for all the salt in the sea.
And neither should you.
The kingdom!
-The kingdom is in danger. I must... -The danger has passed, Father.
We are doing now what you always believed we must.
We're restoring our connection with the Elves.
I'm going to Middle-earth.
Míriel?
Yes, Father.
It's me.
Don't go to Middle-earth.
All that awaits you there is...
What, Father? What awaits me?
Darkness.
Can you believe it?
Everyone's talkin' about what you did.
Never seen 'em take a shine to an outsider like this before.
Brought you some beeswax.
Slather some on that paw, should help with the tenderness.
Hey.
Stop. Please.
To an enduring union between our two great peoples,
Khazad and Noldor.
-To the union. -To the union.
Before our wines ascend,
Lord Durin, I should like to commend you.
Khazad-dûm has been called the quietest of Dwarven kingdoms,
but in recent months, your furnaces are said to be burning
as bright as the eyes of Aulë himself.
Your mines delving ever deeper.
To what do you credit this new invigoration?
I might ask the same of Lindon.
Shipping off its warriors, expandin' its cities.
Bit sudden for Elves, no?
Typically takes you people weeks just to decide to take a sh...
If I may...
The hand of time crawls so slowly for our kind.
We often overlook the years of effort we perceive as taking but a moment.
In so doing, I would not wish to offend our guest.
I would think our Dwarven friend far too stout of heart
to be offended by an honest inquiry.
I have an honest inquiry for you.
From where did you procure the table?
Why do you ask?
This stone grows only at certain depths.
So rarely do our resonators locate a deposit.
We consider each to be a precious gift.
We reserve its use for the most sacred purposes.
Monuments or tombs,
to our honored dead.
Please forgive our sacrilege, Lord Durin.
We shall have to send it home with you, so it can be treated with proper respect.
It's good to know there's still some honor left among the Elves.
Your Grace.
To the union of our two peoples, then.
To the union.
Your loyalty to the Dwarf is admirable.
Loyalty to a friend ought to be expected.
Regardless of his race.
Does it justify lying to your king?
I wonder, High King, if it is in fact you who has been lying to me.
I went to Khazad-dûm with a proposal of friendship, but in truth,
you sought something far more tangible, didn't you?
Are you familiar with The Song of the Roots of Hithaeglir?
-Recount it for me, please.
An obscure legend regarded by most to be a apocryphal.
Recount it, Elrond Peredhel.
It speaks of a battle,
high among the peaks of the Misty Mountains.
Not over honor or duty. But over a tree.
Within which some claim was hidden the last of the lost Silmarils.
On one side, fought an Elven warrior,
with a heart as pure as Manwë,
who poured all of his light into the tree to protect it.
-On the other, a Balrog of Morgoth,
who channeled all his hatred into the tree to destroy it.
Amidst their duel unending, lightning ensnared the tree...
Forging of their conflict, a power...
A power as pure and light as good.
As strong and unyielding as evil.
They say it seeped down the roots into the mountain depths,
where for centuries now, it has waited.
Durin was right.
Then you admit the Dwarves did find it.
The ore containing the light of the lost Silmaril.
I admit only this.
I promised Durin never to reveal his people's secrets.
And what if keeping your promise to his people
meant ensuring the doom of your own?
We first took notice of it just prior to Galadriel's return.
We hoped that by sending her away,
and so bringing an end to the last vestiges of war,
we might arrest the decay.
But despite our every effort,
our decline has only quickened.
The blight upon this tree is but an outer manifestation
of an inner reality.
That the light of the Eldar,
our light, is fading.
Who else knows about this?
Precious few.
I ask again, and for the last time,
did the Dwarves find the ore or not?
I swore an oath to Durin.
To some, that may now hold little weight.
But in my esteem,
it is by such things our very souls are bound.
I do not intend to let mine slip away on the basis of mere hope.
Hope is never mere, Elrond...
even when it is meager.
When all other senses sleep,
the eye of hope is first to awaken, last to shut.
If the Elves abandon Middle-earth now,
the armies of darkness will march over the face of the earth.
It will be the end,
not just of our people, but all peoples.
If the hope of preventing that is not reason enough
to make you reconsider your oath,
I suggest you find another.
What was the land immortal hands
Rose up from Sundering Sea?
-Land of the gift, land of the star
To shine eternally?
'Twas Númenor Fair Númenor
Bright isle filled with grace...
I said it won't be dangerous.
I wager it'll all be over by the time I get off the boat.
Just don't tell my father.
He keeps crowing to everyone with ears, his future son-in-law's a war hero.
Sing! Come on, sing.
You remember the words, don't you?
After hearing you squawk them all night, I fear I'll never forget them.
Perhaps Isildur will sing with you.
Oh, bless our every breath...
This should be interesting.
Make our great land to ever stand
Our swords to conquer death
-The answer's no. -I haven't said anything yet.
I've known you 15 years.
You think I don't know what you're here to say?
-It's actually 16, but I mean... -Ontamo.
Right. What have I come to say?
A fairly lavish apology, which Ontamo, of course,
would've accepted instantly,
-but I wouldn't have.
And do you know why?
You're only apologizing because you think now that I've been promoted,
I can get you on the expedition.
-Can you? -Right.
I'd just like to say, I wouldn't have accepted instantly.
-But I am glad that you apologized. -No, he didn't.
I did!
But I'll gladly do it again. I'm sorry I started the fight.
Now please bring me with you.
No.
What'll it take to make this right?
Fine, you get a free hit.
Jaw, gut, your choice. One hit.
Three.
Uh, two.
-Actually...
That felt like three.
So, you'll bring me on the ship?
Isildur, you're my oldest friend.
And if you want to know the truth, you're probably still my best, but...
-What? -Ontamo, please.
I can't, in good conscience, stake my name
recommending you for a duty that you might well decide to abandon.
-It'll be different this time. -Hmm.
One day, I hope it will be.
One day, I hope you find something
that you would be willing to sacrifice anything for.
I'll take care of Berek for you. I promise.
Berek's going?
The horsemaster recruited him.
Sorry, Isil. The sea is always right.
Are you stowing away?
Are you about to burn the boat?
Get out of here this moment. I won't let anyone know I saw you.
-Hand me the lantern. -Don't.
-Give it.
Gather every hand. Hurry!
Get them out. Quickly.
Get them out! Isildur?
Isildur?
What happened?
He was in a fishing boat. A cask must've gone up.
-A cask?
He saved my life.
He could've just left, but he saved my life.
Captain!
We have reason to suspect a passing brigand,
but we've yet to identify him.
We're fortunate we didn't lose the rest of the ships as well.
This was clearly an attempt to kindle your doubts, Queen Regent.
-Do not let it. -I'm forced to disagree with the Elf.
Perhaps we did act in haste.
A kingdom should be led. Not dragged.
I recommend we delay the voyage
until we've had time enough to win more hearts to your cause.
Our enemy grows stronger every day. Perhaps every hour we hesitate.
Remember why you chose this path. Remember your faith.
Do you think I could forget?
We still have three ships. And your father's blessing.
What of Lord Halbrand?
He awaits our departure.
I'm sure he does.
Shall I tell the Sea Guard to stand down?
This council will reconvene at first light to make a final decision.
See to it Lord Halbrand attends.
What have you been able to ascertain?
Elrond, forgive me.
Forgive you?
That I did not tell you sooner.
You knew.
I begged him to allow you into our confidence from the start,
but the High King forbade it.
And this... this mithril...
It is our only salvation?
Elrond, I have tested it under every duress.
Nothing diminishes its light.
We believe if we can secure vast quantities of it quickly,
enough to saturate every last Elf in the light of the Valar once more...
Then, yes.
Yes. It very well could be.
I am sorry.
That the High King deceived me?
Or that now our people are doomed unless I break an oath?
And betray a friend?
I was there, Elrond, the night your father set sail.
A mortal man, who believed he could convince the very Gods
to come to war in our aid.
I heard your mother pleading with him not to go,
asking him, imploring him, why, why must it be him?
And do you know what he said?
Because he was the only one who could do it.
I was wrong to use you.
For that, I'm sorry.
Tomorrow, the queen will call you to audience.
Your voice at that meeting may well decide whether this mission stands or falls.
-Help me. -I think I've helped you quite enough.
Then help yourself.
Stop fighting me, and together, let us fight them.
Not so long ago, men like me were fighting alongside them.
Men like you. Not you, yourself.
You're wrong.
You don't know what I did before I ended up on that raft.
You don't know how I survived.
How we all survived.
And when these people discover it, they will cast me out.
So will you.
Sometimes to find the light, we must first touch the darkness.
What do you know of darkness?
Whose dagger was it, Galadriel?
Who is it you lost?
My brother.
What happened to him?
He was killed.
In a place of darkness and despair.
By servants of Sauron. Is that enough for you?
So this is about vengeance?
One cannot satisfy thirst by drinking seawater.
Then what is it? Why do you keep fighting?
You are asking me to go to the one place that I swore never to return.
The least you can do is tell me why.
Why do you keep fighting?
Because I cannot stop.
The company I led mutinied against me.
My closest friend conspired with the king to exile me.
And each of them acted as they did...
Because I believe they could no longer distinguish me...
from the evil I was fighting.
I'm sorry.
For your brother.
For all of it.
I'm sorry.
Your sorrow cannot ease my pain.
And nor will a hammer and tongs ease yours.
There is no peace to be found for you here.
And nor for me.
No lasting peace in any path,
but that which lies across the sea.
I have fought for centuries, seeking to earn mine.
This is how you earn yours.
Long have I awaited this day.
The day your kind would return at last,
lift us up from the muck and the filth,
to take our rightful place at your side.
I pledge my undying service to you.
I pledge my loyalty to Sauron.
You are Sauron, are you not?
Hey, hey... Wait...
I'll serve you, then. Whoever you are.
Only blood can bind.
Waldreg?
Waldreg...
Waldreg, no.
No.
-No.
No!
Lift your aim next time.
And don't be so afraid of the string.
Why bother trying to teach me?
Because it took me over 200 years
to develop the bravery that's keeping me standing here tonight.
You found it in only 14.
And we're going to need it in the fight to come.
All my life, your kind has watched us.
Counting every whisper.
Every kitchen knife too sharp.
We're all about to be buried in this tower.
So why be buried with us?
Because in counting the whispers and the knives,
I've come to know the voices and the hands of those behind them.
Half of us just left.
But half stayed.
Including you.
So lift your aim.
There's something you don't know.
I've seen this before.
It is a key.
Conjured by some forgotten craft of the enemy, to enslave your ancestors.
A key to what?
I do not know.
The enemy commander spoke of becoming a god.
Of giving the Orcs a home in these lands.
But whatever his design, this much is certain.
Our enemy knows your son has what he needs to enact it.
How long?
Days.
Maybe hours.
We can survive this, Bronwyn.
There is a way.
There must be.
There is one.
No! Bow to the enemy, and you take away everything.
From your son, and his sons after him.
Your people have worked an entire age to earn back their virtue.
Would you undo it all in just one moment of despair?
There must be another way.
Name it. I beg you.
See?
You were right to watch us.
Because we are destined for the darkness.
It's how we survive.
Perhaps it's who we are.
Who we will always be.
There's far more at stake here than just our lives.
When Morgoth was at war, whole continents sank.
Who is to say what horrors this might unleash,
should our enemy obtain it?
What power do we have to stop him?
Look around. It's over.
-Not yet. -Soon enough.
And when they march upon us, this tower will fall.
Nampat!
You made it up, didn't you?
Disa's been wanting a new table for years, so...
Ah, come on, it's not that heavy.
It is not the weight of the table that burdens me.
So why don't you come out with it?
Because a burden shared may either be halved or doubled.
-Depending on the heart that receives it.
Aulë's beard! Enough with the quail sauce.
Give me the meat, and give it to me raw.
I have not been truthful with you, Durin.
I did not come to Khazad-dûm for friendship, but ambition.
I did not know it.
But I came for mithril.
Why?
Without it,
my kind must either abandon these shores by spring, or perish.
Perish?
Perish how?
Our immortal souls will dwindle into nothing,
slowly diminishing,
until we are but shadows,
swept away by the tides of time.
Forever.
So the fate of the entire Elven race is in my hands?
So it would appear.
Say that again.
The fate of the entire Elven race is in your hands.
Whose hands?
Yours.
Hmm.
Fetch your feathery shirts. Let's start walking.
-Durin... -Don't thank me yet.
Thank me after we find a way to convince my father.
Now can we please get moving?
It's a long journey back.
And all this sunlight is startin' to give me a sour stomach.
Under one condition. Tell Disa the table's from me.
Don't push your luck, Elf.
Lord Halbrand, the Queen Regent summons you.
Look whose father secured him a post. Again.
I earned mine. Same as you.
Soldier.
Report to the horsemaster.
Thought I was in cavalry.
You are.
Stable sweep.
Soldiers!
Clear the lines!
Square the sail!
We head nor'-east.
For Middle-earth.
Yes!
The sun is fast falling
Beneath trees of stone
The light in the tower
No longer my home
Past eyes of pale fire
Black sand for my bed
I trade all I've known
For the unknown ahead
Call to me Call to me lands far away
For I must now wander this wandering day
Away I must wander
This wandering day
Of drink I have little
And food I have less
My strength tells me no But the path demands yes
My legs are so short And the way is so long
I've no rest nor comfort
No comfort, but song
Sing to me, sing to me Lands far away
Oh, rise up and guide me This wandering day
Please promise to find me
This wandering day
At last comes their answer
Through cold and through frost
That not all who wonder or wander are lost
No matter the sorrow
No matter the cost
That not all who wonder
Or wander are...
Lost