The Lord of the Rings: The Rings of Power

My brother gave his life hunting Sauron.

His task is now mine.

Commander Galadriel.

This company has followed you to the very edge of the world.

It's been years since the last Orc was sighted.

This mark's very existence proves Sauron escaped.

The question now is, where?

The evil is gone.

Then why is it not gone from in here?

These heroes shall be granted a passage across the sea

to dwell for all eternity.

You have fought long enough, Galadriel.

Put up your sword.

Without it, what am I to be?

Are you acquainted with the work of Lord Celebrimbor?

The greatest of Elven-smiths, of course.

What's one of them doing here?

She's got some sort of a sickness.

- Where has she been grazing? - She wandered east a few days ago.

How far east?

Hordern.

Haven't you ever wondered what else is out there?

Beyond our wanderin'.

Nobody goes off trail and nobody walks alone.

The skies are strange. -

- Nori! - Poppy!

Have the wheels come off your cart? Get away from there!

Shh!

You shouldn't sneak up on folk like that.

- Well, you shouldn't be here. - Shh!

It's not hot.

Fine. It's not hot.

Doesn't change the fact that there's a giant in there.

She's making that face. Not that face, Nori...

Nori!

Nori, don't!

Nori, don't! He's dead! Come on!

- No! Don't! Don't! Please! -

No!

What...

Your mam's gonna kill ya.

You're not telling her. Neither am I. Quick sticks.

We can't leave him like this or the wolves will get him.

- So? - So, that's not who we are.

That's not who you are.

I can't carry him alone. Are you gonna help me or not?

- Not. - Poppy!

How exactly are we supposed to carry a giant?

Must've been a star fall.

A big one.

How many signs do you need?

Ask me, we ought to break camp this moment.

- - What about the festival?

Let's not do anything rash just yet.

More'n likely we're safer in camp than we are out.

But keep an eye out, the both of you.

- Malva's right. - Yes.

This does not bode well.

Now, away with you. Go on.

Pssk!

- All right, all right, all right. - Go on. Hurry up.

- -

- -

Look at him. He's bleeding massive.

- He's got to be... - He's not a troll!

All right, smart-foot. Then what is he?

Uh, maybe he's big folk.

Human?

No way. He'd be squished.

Elf, maybe?

- Wrong ears. And he's not handsome. -

Not to mention, Elves don't fall from the sky.

Nobody does. As far as I know.

He did.

- Are you even pullin'? - Yeah, of course I'm pullin'!

- Well, pull harder! - Shh!

This is ludicrous. He's never gonna fit in that old cart.

It's just for one night.

In the mornin', we'll pack him up some food and send him on his way.

- What way? - That's a tomorrow problem.

- This isn't an adventure. - What's that supposed to mean?

- I didn't go looking for this. - But you're not turning away.

- Because I can't. - Because you won't.

This stranger isn't a Man, or an Elf,

or some baby eagle with a broken wing.

- That was one time. - He's something else.

Maybe he's something dangerous.

Now you sound just like Malva and the sisters.

Oh, it's not just them.

Anybody finds out that we helped a stranger,

and anything bad that happens the next three seasons

will be our fault.

If a fog lasts a little too long, a wheel gets stuck in a rut...

Oh, great goats!

Faster, before it crashes!

Oh, so now you care about him.

No, no! The wheelbarrow, it's not mine!

- -

Why you doing this, Nori?

- I feel like he's my responsibility. - You feel like everyone

- is your responsibility. - No.

This is different.

He could've landed anywhere, and he landed here.

I know it sounds strange, but somehow I just know he's important.

It's like there's a reason this happened.

Like I was supposed to find him. Me.

I can't walk away from that. Not till I know he's safe.

Can you?

Fine. I won't tell anyone.

Thank you.

What does a giant eat, anyway?

Hope it's not Harfoots.

Just the ones that can't keep a secret.

The earth is riven with fissures.

Like in a ground-shake.

No bodies.

No wounded.

Perhaps they all fled.

Perhaps.

This was Ciaran's home.

And... Hana. His wife was Hana.

This was no ground-shake. Someone dug this passage.

Something.

Men did not do this.

Go. Warn your people.

You're not coming with me?

I must follow the passage. The other direction.

- You don't know what's down there. - That is the reason I must go.

Fëanor's hammer.

The tool that wrought the Silmarils.

The jewels that contain the very light of Valinor.

Strange, isn't it?

How one object could be responsible for creating so much beauty...

And so much pain.

True creation requires sacrifice.

They say that Morgoth found the Silmarils so beautiful

that after he'd stolen them, for weeks,

he could do nothing but stare into their depths.

Hmm.

It was only after one of his tears fell upon the jewels

and he was faced with the evil of his own reflection,

that the reverie was finally broken.

From that moment, he...

He looked upon their light no more.

Fëanor's work nearly turned the heart of the Great Foe himself.

What has mine ever accomplished?

I... It has turned my heart, my lord.

The heart of many an Elf.

But I aspire to do far more than that.

An Age ago, our kind brought war to these shores.

I want to fill them with beauty.

To grow beyond petty works of jewel-craft, and devise something of real power.

What is it you hope to craft?

"What" is but a glint on the far horizon.

You have come to Eregion to help me achieve the "how."

A tower?

One that can host a forge more powerful than any ever built.

Able to birth a flame as hot as a dragon's tongue,

and as pure as starlight.

The things we could use it to create could transform Middle-earth.

What seems to be the difficulty?

I need it completed by spring.

My lord, that would require a...

A workforce greater than any ever assembled.

Yes. The High King cannot provide one.

So he has sent me you instead.

Have you considered seeking partners outside the confines of our own race?

How far outside?

An alliance with the Dwarves would be

the diplomatic achievement of the age.

Their prince, Durin, is an old and dear friend.

Almost like a brother to me.

I've heard the Dwarves have greatly expanded their halls of late.

They... They sculpt the rock

with the respect of one who cares for an aged parent.

I've long wanted to see them work.

I had no idea you admired them so.

I admire all who can see into the mystery of things,

who can divine from the plainness of what is,

the beauty of what could be...

Might your friend be able to grant me access to their workshops?

Oh, if I know Durin, he'll do far more than that.