بخش 09

Mr. Frodo?

Who are they? Wicked Men.

Servants of Sauron.

They are called to Mordor.

The Dark One is gathering all armies to him.

It won’t be long now. He will soon be ready.

Ready to do what? To make his war.

The last war that will cover all the world in Shadow.

We’ve got to get moving. Come on, Sam.

Mr. Frodo.

Look.

It’s an oliphaunt.

No one at home will believe this.

Smeagol?

We’ve lingered here too long.

Come on, Sam.

Wait! We’re innocent travelers!

There are no travelers in this land. Only servants of the Dark Tower.

We are bound to an errand of secrecy.

Those that claim to oppose the enemy would do well not to hinder us.

The enemy?

His sense of duty was no less than yours, I deem.

You wonder what his name is…

where he came from.

And if he was really evil at heart.

What lies or threats led him on this long march from home.

If he would not rather have stayed there…

in peace.

War will make corpses of us all.

Bind their hands.

It’s true, you don’t see many Dwarf women.

And in fact, they are so alike in voice and appearance…

that they’re often mistaken for Dwarf men.

It’s the beards.

This, in turn, has given rise to the belief…

that there are no Dwarf women…

and that Dwarves just spring out of holes in the ground…

which is, of course, ridiculous.

It’s all right. Nobody panic.

That was deliberate. It was deliberate.

I haven’t seen my niece smile for a long time.

She was a girl when they brought her father back dead.

Cut down by Orcs.

She watched her mother succumb to grief.

Then she was left alone, to tend her king in growing fear.

Doomed to wait upon an old man who should have loved her as a father.

Gimli.

No, I couldn’t

I really couldn’t.

I made some stew.

It isn’t much, but it’s hot.

Thank you.

It’s good. Really?

My uncle told me a strange thing.

He said that you rode to war with Thengel, my grandfather.

But he must be mistaken.

King Theoden has a good memory.

He was only a small child at the time.

Then you must be at least 60.

Seventy?

But you cannot be 80!

Eightyseven.

You are one of the Dunedain.

A descendant of Numenor, blessed with long life.

It was said that your race had passed into legend.

There are few of us left.

The Northern Kingdom was destroyed long ago.

I’m sorry. Please, eat.

The light of the Evenstar does not wax and wane.

It is mine to give to whom I will.

Like my heart.

Go to sleep.

Where is she?

The woman who gave you that jewel.

Our time here is ending.

Arwen’s time is ending.

Let her go.

Let her take the ship into the west.

Let her bear away her love for you to the Undying Lands.

There it will be ever green.

But never more than memory.

I will not leave my daughter here to die.

She stays because she still has hope. She stays for you.

She belongs with her people.

Nach gwannatha sin (Is this how you leave?)

Ma nathach hi gwannathachor minuial archened (Did you think you could slip away at first light unseen?)

Úethelithon (I shall not return.)

Estelio guru lîn ne dagor (You underestimate your skill in battle.)

Ethelithach (You will return.)

Úbedin o gurth ne dagor (I do not speak of death in battle.)

O man pedich (What do you speak of?)

Why are you saying this?

I am mortal. You are Elfkind.

It was a dream, Arwen.

Nothing more.

I don’t believe you.

This belongs to you.

It was a gift.

Keep it.

My lord?

She is sailing to the Undying Lands with all that is left of her kin.

What is it?

Hama? I’m not sure.