O rowen mine

I saw you shine

Upon a summer's day

Upon your head

How golden-red

The crown you bore aloft

Such a beautiful verse

Is it much further?

Bru-ra-hroom. Don't be hasty. You might call it far, perhaps. My home lies deep in the forest ... near the roots of the mountain. I told Gandalf I would keep you safe. And safe is where I'll keep you. I believe you will enjoy this next one too. It's one of my own compositions. Right.

Beneath the roof of sleeping leaves

And the dreams of trees unfold

When woodland halls are green and cool

And the wind is in the West

Come back to me

Come back to me

And say my land is best

Sleep, little Shirelings. Heed no nightly noise. Sleep till morning light. I have business in the forest. There are many to call. Many that must come. The Shadow lies on Fangorn. The withering of all woods is drawing near.

The veiling shadow that glowers in the east takes shape. Sauron will suffer no rival. From the summit of Barad-dur, his Eye watches ceaselessly. But he is not so mighty yet that he is above fear. Doubt ever gnaws at him. The rumor has reached him. The heir of Numenor still lives.

Sauron fears you, Aragorn. He fears what you may become. And so he'll strike hard and fast at the world of Men. He will use his puppet Saruman to destroy Rohan. War is coming. Rohan must defend itself, and therein lies our first challenge, for Rohan is weak and ready to fall. The king's mind is enslaved, it's an old device of Saruman's. His hold over King Theoden is now very strong. Sauron and Saruman are tightening the noose. But for all their cunning ... we have one advantage. The Ring remains hidden. And that we should seek to destroy it has not yet entered their darkest dreams.

And so the weapon of the enemy is moving towards Mordor ... in the hands of a Hobbit. Each day brings it closer to the fires of Mount Doom. We must trust now in Frodo. Everything depends upon speed ... and the secrecy of his quest.

Do not regret your decision to leave him. Frodo must finish this task alone.

He's not alone. Sam went with him.

Did he? Did he, indeed? Good. Yes, very good.

The Black Gate of Mordor.

Oh, save us. My old Gaffer would have a thing or two to say if he could see us now.

Master says to show him the way into Mordor. So good Smeagol does, master says so.

I did.

That's it, then. We can't get past that.

Look! The gate. It's opening! I can see a way down.

Sam, no!

Master!

I do not ask you to come with me, Sam.

I know, Mr. Frodo. I doubt even these Elvish cloaks will hide us in there.

Now!

No! No! No, master!

They catch you! They catch you! Don't take it to him. He wants the precious. Always he is looking for it. And the precious is wanting to go back to him. But we mustn't let him have it.

No! There's another way. More secret. A dark way.

Why haven't you spoken of this before?

Because master did not ask.

He's up to something.

Are you saying there's another way into Mordor?

Yes. There's a path ... and some stairs. And then ... a tunnel.

He's led us this far, Sam.

Mr. Frodo, no.

He's been true to his word.

No.

Lead the way, Smeagol.

Good Smeagol always helps.

Hello? Treebeard? Where has he gone?

I had the loveliest dream last night. There was this large barrel, full of pipe-weed. And we smoked all of it. And then ... you were sick. I'd give anything for a whiff of Old Toby.

Did you hear that? There it is again . Something's not right here. Not right at all.

You just said something ... Treeish.

No, I didn't. I was just stretching.

You're taller.

Who?

You!

Than what?

Than me!

I've always been taller than you.

Pippin, everyone knows I'm the tall one. You're the short one.

Please, Merry. You're what? Three-foot-six? At the most? Whereas me, I'm pushing 3'7"

... 3'8"!

Three-foot-eight. You did something.

Merry, don't! Don't drink it!

Merry! No, Treebeard said that you shouldn't have any.

I want some!

lt could well be dangerous!

Give me it back. Merry!

What's happening?!

Aarargh! It's got my leg!

Merry!

Help!

Away with you. You should not be waking. Eat earth. Dig deep. Drink water.

Go to sleep. Away with you. Come, the forest is waking up.

It isn't safe. The trees have grown wild and dangerous. Anger festers in their hearts. Black are their thoughts. Strong is their hate. They will harm you if they can. There are too few of us now. Too few of us Ents left to manage them.

Why are there so few of you when you have lived so long? Are there Ent children?

Bru-ra-hroom. There have been no Entings for a terrible long count of years.

Why is that?

We lost the Entwives.

Oh, I'm sorry. How did they die?

Die? No. We lost them. And now we cannot find them. I don't suppose you've seen Entwives in the Shire?

Can't say that I have. You, Pip?

What do they look like?

I don't remember now.

Edoras and the Golden Hall of Meduseld. There dwells Theoden, King of Rohan...... whose mind is overthrown.

Saruman's hold over King Theoden is now very strong.

Be careful what you say. Do not look for welcome here.

Oh, he must have died sometime in the night. What a tragedy for the king ... to lose his only son and heir.

I understand. His passing is hard to accept. Especially now that your brother has deserted you.

Leave me alone, snake!

Oh, but you are alone. Who knows what you've spoken to the darkness ... in the bitter watches of the night ... when all your life seems to shrink. The walls of your bower closing in about you. A hutch to trammel some wild thing in.

So fair. So cold. Like a morning of pale spring......still clinging to winter's chill.

Your words are poison.

You'll find more cheer in a graveyard.

I cannot allow you before Theoden King so armed, Gandalf Greyhame. By order of Grima Wormtongue.

Your staff.

Hmmm? You would not part an old man from his walking stick.

My lord, Gandalf the Grey is coming. He's a herald of woe.

The courtesy of your hall is somewhat lessened of late ... Theoden King.

He's not welcome.

Why should I welcome you ... Gandalf Stormcrow?

A just question, my liege. Late is the hour in which this conjurer chooses to appear. Lathspell I name him. Ill news is an ill guest.

Be silent. Keep your forked tongue behind your teeth. I have not passed through fire and death to bandy crooked words with a witless worm.

His staff. I told you to take the wizard's staff.

Theoden ... son of Thengel ... too long have you sat in the Shadows.

I would stay still if I were you.

Hearken to me! I release you ... from the spell.

You have no power here ... Gandalf the Grey.

I will draw you, Saruman, as poison is drawn from a wound.

Wait. If I go, Theoden dies.

You did not kill me ... you will not kill him.

Rohan is mine.

Be gone.

I know your face. Eowyn. Eowyn. Gandalf?

Breathe the free air again, my friend.

Dark have been my dreams of late.

Your fingers would remember their old strength better ... if they grasped your sword.

I've only......ever served you, my lord.

Your leechcraft would have had me crawling on all fours like a beast!

Send me not from your sight.

No, my lord! No, my lord. Let him go. Enough blood has been spilt on his account.

Get out of my way!

Hail, Theoden King!

Where is Theodred? Where is my son?

Bealocwealm hafað fréone frecan forth onsended

giedd sculon singan gléomenn sorgiende

on Meduselde þæt he ma no wære

his dryhtne dyrest and mæga deorost.

(An evil death has set forth the noble warrior

A song shall sing sorrowing minstrels

in Meduseld that he is no more,

to his lord dearest and kinsmen most beloved.)