All language subtitles for The Hobbit II The Desolation of Smaug EXT 2013 UHD

I'm dying of thirst over here.
Come on! Come on!

- Here you are.
- Thank you kindly.

- Oh, watch it!
- Sorry, darling.

- There you are.
- Thank you.

Master Stadle.

Mind if I join you?

I'll have the same.

I should introduce myself.
My name is Gandalf.

Gandalf the Grey.

I know who you are.

Well, now. This is a fine chance.

What brings Thorin Oakenshield to Bree?

I received word that my father...

had been seen wandering
the Wilds near Dunland.

I went looking.

I found no sign of him.

Thrain.

You're like the others.

You think he is dead.

I was not at the Battle of Moria.

No...

but I was.

My grandfather...

Thror, was slain.

No!

- Father.
- Stay back!

No. I will fight with you!

Azog means to kill us all.

One by one, he will destroy the line of Durin.

But by mine's life,
he shall not take my son.

You will stay here.

My father led a charge
towards the Dimrill Gate.

He never returned.

Father!

"Thrain is gone," they told me.

"He is one of the fallen."

But at the end of that battle,
I searched amongst the slain.

To the last body.

My father was not among the dead.

Thorin, it's been a long time since anything
but rumor was heard of Thrain.

He still lives. I am sure of it.

The ring your grandfather wore...

one of the seven given to
the Dwarf-lords many years ago...

What became of it?

He gave it to my father
before they went into battle.

So Thrain was wearing it when he...

When he went missing.

- That's that, then.
- There you are.

I know my father came to see you
before the Battle of Moria.

What did you say to him?

I urged him to march upon Erebor, to rally
the seven armies of the Dwarves...

to destroy the dragon and take
back the Lonely Mountain.

And I would say the same to you.

Take back your homeland.

This is no chance meeting, is it, Gandalf?

No.

It is not.

The Lonely Mountain troubles me, Thorin.

That dragon has sat there long enough.

Sooner or later darker minds
will turn towards Erebor.

I ran into some unsavory characters
whilst traveling on the Greenway.

They mistook me for a Vagabond.

I imagine they regretted that.

One of them was carrying a message.

It is Black Speech.

A promise of payment.

For what?

Your head.

Someone wants you dead.

Thorin, you can wait no longer.
You are the heir to the Throne of Durin.

Unite the armies of the Dwarves.

Together, you have the might
and power to retake Erebor.

Summon a meeting of the seven Dwarf families.

Demand they stand by their oath.

The seven armies swore that oath
to the one who wields the King's Jewel.

The Arkenstone.

It is the only thing that will unite them...

and in case you have forgotten
that jewel was stolen by Smaug.

What if I were to help you reclaim it?

How?

The Arkenstone lies half a world away buried
beneath the feet of a fire-breathing dragon.

Yes, it does.

Which is why we're going to need a burglar.

How close is the pack?

Too close. A couple of leagues, no more.
But that's not the worst of it.

- Have the Wargs picked up our scent?
- Not yet. But they will do.

- We have another problem.
- Did they see you?

- They saw you.
- No, that's not it.

What did I tell you?
Quiet as a mouse.

Excellent burglar material.

Will you listen? Will you just listen?

I'm trying to tell you
there is something else out there.

What form did it take?

Like a bear?

Yes, but bigger.
Much bigger.

You knew about this beast?

- I say we double back.
- And be run down by a pack of Orcs?

There is a house. It's not far
from here, where we might take refuge.

Whose house?

Are they friend or foe?

Neither.

He will help us or...

he will kill us.

What choice do we have?

None.

Come on!

This way! Quickly!

Run!

Bombur, come on!

To the house!

Run!

Come on, get inside.

Open the door!

Quickly!

- Push!
- Push!

Come on, lads!

What is that?

That is our host.

His name is Beorn.

And he's a skin-changer.

Sometimes he's a huge black bear.
Sometimes he's a great strong man.

The bear is unpredictable...

but the man can be reasoned with.
However...

he is not overfond of Dwarves.

He's leaving.

Come away from there.

It's not natural. None of it.

It's obvious.
He's under some dark spell.

Don't be a fool.

He's under no enchantment but his own.

All right, now get some sleep. All of you.

You'll be safe here tonight.

I hope.

Don't blame me!

Come on, Dori!

Well, I say we should leg it.
Slip out the back way.

I'm not running from anyone, beast or no.

There is no point in arguing.

We cannot pass through the Wilderland
without Beorn's help.

We'll be hunted down,
before we ever get to the forest.

Ah, Bilbo.
There you are.

Now, this will require some delicate handling.

We must tread very carefully.

The last person to have startled
him was torn to shreds.

I will go first and... Bilbo?
You come with me.

- Is this a good idea?
- Yes.

Now, the rest of you, you just wait here
and don't come out until I give the signal.

Right, wait for the signal.

And no sudden moves or loud noises,
and don't overcrowd him.

And only come out in pairs. Right.

No, actually, Bombur. You count
as two so you should come out alone.

Remember, wait for the signal.

The signal. Right.

What signal would that be?

You're nervous.

Nervous? What nonsense.

Good morning.

Good morning!

Who are you?

I'm Gandalf. Gandalf the Grey.

Never heard of him.

I'm a Wizard.

Perhaps you've heard of my colleague
Radagast the Brown.

He resides in the southern
borders of Mirkwood.

What do you want?

Well, simply to thank you
for your hospitality.

You may have noticed that we took refuge
in your lodgings here last night.

Who is this little fellow?

Well, this would be Mr. Baggins...

from the Shire.

He's not a Dwarf, is he?

Why, no. No, he's a Hobbit.

A good family and unimpeachable reputation.

A Halfling and a Wizard.

How come you here?

Oh, well, the fact is that we've had
a bad time of it...

from Goblins in the mountains.

What did you go near Goblins for?
Stupid thing to do.

You are absolutely...

- right. No, it was terrible.
- There it is. Go.

Dwalin and Balin.

And I must confess that, several
of our group are, in fact, Dwarves.

Do you call two...

"several"?

Well, now you put it that way.

Yes, there could be more than two.

Wait, that's us.

Oh, and here are some more
of our happy troop.

And do you call six a "troop"?

What are you, a traveling circus?

Go.

Go. Go, go.

Dori and Ori at your service.

I don't want your service.

Absolutely understandable.

Go.

Go.

Oh, Fili and Kili.
I'd quite forgotten. Yes.

Oh, yes, and Nori, Bofur, Bifur...

and Bombur.

Is that it?

Are there any more?

So you are the one they call Oakenshield.

Tell me...

why is Azog the Defiler hunting you?

You know of Azog?

How?

My people were the first
to live in the mountains...

before the Orcs came
down from the North.

The Defiler killed most of my family.

But some he enslaved.

Not for work, you understand...

but for sport.

Caging skin-changers and torturing
them seemed to amuse him.

There are others like you?

- Once there were many.
- And now?

Now there is only one.

You need to reach the mountain
before the last days of autumn.

Before Durin's Day falls. Yes.

You are running out of time.

Which is why we must go through Mirkwood.

A darkness lies upon that forest.

Fell things creep beneath those trees.

I would not venture there,
except in great need.

We will take the Elven Road.

That path is still safe.

"Safe"?

The Wood Elves of Mirkwood
are not like their kin.

They're less wise and more dangerous.

But it matters not.

What do you mean?

These lands are crawling with Orcs.

Their numbers are growing.

And you are on foot.

You will never reach the forest alive.

I don't like Dwarves.

They're greedy and blind.

Blind to the lives of those
they deem lesser than their own.

But Orcs I hate more.

What do you need?

You will leave my ponies
before you enter the forest.

Oh, you have my word.

- We're being watched.
- Yes.

The Orcs will not give up.

They will hunt the Dwarves
until they see them destroyed.

Why now? What has made the Defiler
crawl from his hole?

There is an alliance
between the Orcs of Moria...

and the sorcerer in Dol Guldur.

- Are you sure of this?
- Packs have been seen gathering there.

Each day, more and more come.

What do you know of this sorcerer?

The one they call the Necromancer.

I know he is not what he seems.

Fell things are drawn to his power.

Azog pays homage to him.

Gandalf.

Time is wasting.

There is more.

Not long past, word spread...

the dead had been seen walking
near the High Fells of Rhudaur.

The dead?

Is it true?

Are there tombs in those mountains?

When Angmar fell...

the Men of the North took his body
and all that he possessed...

and sealed it within the High
Fells of Rhudaur.

Deep within the rock, they buried him.

In a tomb so dark...

it would never come to light.

Yes, there are tombs up there.

I remember a time when a great
evil ruled these lands.

One powerful enough to raise the dead.

If that enemy has returned to Middle-earth...

I would have you tell me.

Saruman the White says it's not possible.

The enemy was destroyed
and will never return.

And what does Gandalf the Grey say?

Go now.

While you have the light.

Your hunters are not far behind.

The Elven Gate.

Here lies our path through Mirkwood.

No sign of the Orcs.
We have luck on our side.

Set the ponies loose.

Let them return to their master.

This forest feels...

sick.

As if a disease lies upon it.

Is there no way around?

Not unless we go 200 miles north.

Or twice that distance south.

Something moves in the shadows unseen...

hidden from our sight.

Every day it grows in strength.

Beware the Necromancer.

He is not what he seems.

If our Enemy has returned,
we must know.

Go to the tombs in the mountains.

The High Fells.

So be it.

Not my horse!
I need it!

You're not leaving us?

I would not do this unless I had to.

You've changed...

Bilbo Baggins.

You're not the same Hobbit
as the one who left the Shire.

I was going to tell you.

I...

found something in the Goblin tunnels.

Found what?

What did you find?

My courage.

Good. Well, that's good.

You'll need it.

I'll be waiting for you at the overlook,
before the slopes of Erebor.

Keep the map and key safe.

Do not enter that mountain without me.

This is not the Greenwood of old.

There is a stream in the woods
that carries a dark enchantment.

Do not touch the water.

Cross only by the stone bridge.

The very air of the forest
is heavy with illusion.

It'll seek to enter your mind
and lead you astray.

"Lead us astray"?

What does that mean?

You must stay on the path.
Do not leave it.

If you do, you'll never find it again.

No matter what may come, stay on the path!

Come on. We must reach the mountain
before the sun sets on Durin's Day.

- Durin's Day?
- Let's go.

It is our one chance
to find the hidden door.

The path turns this way.

This way.

Air. I need air.

My head, it's swimming!

- We found the bridge.
- Bridge.

We could try and swim it.

Didn't you hear what Gandalf said?

A dark magic lies upon this forest.

The waters of this stream are enchanted.

Doesn't look very enchanting to me.

We must find another way across.

These vines look strong enough.

Kili!

We send the lightest first.

It's all right.

Can't see any problem.

There's one.

Everything's fine.

Something is not right.

This is not right at all.

Stay where you are!

I can't get a grip.

What are you doing?

You shouldn't have done that.

- It's bad luck.
- I don't believe in luck.

We make our own luck.

We need to take a rest.

What is that?

Those voices.

Can you hear them?

I hear nothing.

No wind...

no birds.

What hour is it?

I do not know.

I do not even know what day it is.

This is taking too long.

Is there no end to this accursed forest?

None that I can see.

Only trees and more trees.

This way.

- Gandalf said...
- Do as I say. Follow me.

Attercop.

No, no, wait.

Wait.

Stop.

We can't...

leave the path...
We must stay on the path.

I don't remember this place.

None of it's familiar.

It's got to be here.

It can't have just disappeared.

Unless someone's moved it.

It's not over here neither.

Look.

A tobacco pouch.

There's Dwarves in these woods.

Dwarves from the Blue Mountains, no less.

This is exactly the same as mine.

Because it is yours. Do you understand?

We're going around in circles.
We are lost.

We are not lost.
We keep heading east.

But which way is east?
We've lost the sun.

I thought you were the expert.

The sun.

We have to find...

the sun.

Up there.

We need to get above the canopy.

What was that?

Enough! Quiet! All of you!

We're being watched.

I can see a lake!

And a river.

And the Lonely Mountain.

We're almost there!

Can you hear me?

I know which way to go!

Hello?

Hello.

Oh, no.

Oh, come on.

Kill them! Kill them.

Eat them now,
while their blood is running.

Their hide is tough,
but there's good juice inside.

Stick it again. Finish it off.

The meat's alive and kicking!

Kill him.
Kill him now.

Let us feast.

Feast! Feast!

Feast! Feast!

Eat them alive!

Feast!

- What is it?
- What is it?

Eat them alive!

Fat and juicy.

Just a little taste.

Curse it! Where is it?! Where is it?!

Here.

It stings!

It stings!

Sting.

That's a good name.

Sting.

You all right there, Bofur?

- I'm all right!
- Get it off me!

Where's Bilbo?

I'm up here!

Pull!

Pull!

Where is it? Where is it?
Come on.

Where is it?

No!

No! No!

Thorin! Get them!

Come on!

Look out, brother!

Fili!

Mine.

Come on, keep up!

We're clear!

Do not think I won't kill you, Dwarf.

It would be my pleasure.

- Help!
- Kili!

Throw me a dagger!

Quick!

If you think I'm giving
you a weapon, Dwarf...

you're mistaken!

Search them.

B'ey! Give it back! That's private!

Who is this?

- Your brother?
- That is my wife!

And what is this horrid creature?

A Goblin-mutant?

That's my wee lad, Gimli.

Where did you get this?

It was given to me.

Not just a thief, but a liar as well.

Thorin, where's Bilbo?

This is not the end of it!

- Do you hear me?!
- Hey, let us out of here!

Get off me!

Aren't you going to search me?

I could have anything down my trousers.

Or nothing.

- Again!
- Leave it!

There's no way out!

This is no Orc dungeon.

These are the Halls of the Woodland Realm.

No one leaves here
but by the king's consent.

Some may imagine
that a noble quest is at hand.

A quest to reclaim a homeland
and slay a dragon.

I myself suspect a more prosaic motive.

Attempted burglary.

Or something of that ilk.

You have found a way in.

You seek that which would bestow
upon you the right to rule.

The King's Jewel.

The Arkenstone.

It is precious to you beyond measure.

I understand that.

There are gems in the mountain
that I too desire.

White gems of pure starlight.

I offer you my help.

I am listening.

I will let you go if you
but return what is mine.

- A favor for a favor.
- You have my word.

One king to another.

I would not trust Thranduil,
the great king...

to honor his word, should the end
of all days be upon us!

You, who lack all honor!

I have seen how you treat your friends.

We came to you once, starving,
homeless, seeking your help.

But you turned your back!

You turned away from the suffering
of my people...

and the inferno that destroyed us.

Do not talk to me of dragon fire.

I know its wrath and ruin.

I have faced the great
serpents of the North.

I warned your grandfather
of what his greed would summon.

But he would not listen.

You are just like him.

Stay here if you will and rot.

A hundred years is a mere
blink in the life of an Elf.

I'm patient.

I can wait.

Did he offer you a deal?

He did.

I told him he could go
�sh kakhf� ai-'d d�r-rugnu!

Him and all his kin!

Well, that's that, then.

A deal was our only hope.

Not our only hope.

I know you're there.

Why do you linger in the shadows?

I was coming to report to you.

I thought I ordered that nest
to be destroyed not two moons past.

We cleared the forest as ordered, my lord.

But more spiders keep
coming up from the South.

They are spawning in the ruins of Dol Guldur.
If we could kill them at their source...

That fortress lies beyond our borders.

Keep our lands clear of those foul creatures.
That is your task.

And when we drive them off, what then?

Will they not spread to other lands?

Other lands are not my concern.

The fortunes of the world will rise and fall.

But here in this kingdom, we will endure.

Legolas said you fought well today.

He has grown very fond of you.

I assure you, my lord.

Legolas thinks of me as no more
than a captain of the guard.

Perhaps he did once.

Now I am not so sure.

I do not think you would allow your son
to pledge himself to a lowly Silvan Elf.

No, you are right. I would not.

Still, he cares about you.

Do not give him hope where there is none.

The stone in your hand, what is it?

It is a talisman.

A powerful spell lies upon it.

If any but a Dwarf reads
the runes on this stone...

they will be forever cursed.

Or not.

Depending on whether you believe
in that kind of thing. It's just a token.

A rune stone.

My mother gave it to me so
I'd remember my promise.

What promise?

That I would come back to her.

She worries.

She thinks I'm reckless.

Are you?

Nah.

Sounds like quite a party
you're having up there.

It is Mereth e-nGilith...

the Feast of Starlight.

All light is sacred to the Eldar.

But Wood Elves love best
the light of the stars.

I always thought it is a cold light.

Remote and far away.

It is memory, precious and pure.

Like your promise.

I have walked there sometimes.

Beyond the forest and up into the night.

I have seen the world fall away...

and the white light of forever fill the air.

I saw a fire moon once.

It rose over the pass near Dunland. Huge.

Red and gold, it was. It filled the sky.

We were an escort for some merchants
from Ered Luin. They were...

trading in silverwork for furs.
We took the Greenway south...

keeping the mountain to our left.

And then it appeared.

This huge fire moon lighting our path.

I wish I could show you the caverns...

Galion, you old rogue,
we're running out of drink.

These empty barrels should have been
sent back to Esgaroth hours ago.

The bargeman will be waiting for them.

Say what you like about our ill-tempered king.
He has excellent taste in wine.

Come, Elros, try it.

I have the Dwarves in my charge.

They're locked up.
Where can they go?

I'll wager the sun is on the rise.

Must be nearly dawn.

We're never gonna reach the mountain, are we?

Not stuck in here, you're not.

Bilbo!

What?

There are guards nearby!

Close the doors.

- It'll buy us more time.
- All right, Nori.

- Up the stairs.
- You first.

Ori.

Not that way. Down here.
Follow me.

Go.

Easy, now.

This way.

Come on.

I don't believe it.
We're in the cellars!

You were supposed to be leading us out,
not further in!

I know what I'm doing!

This way! This way!

Everyone, climb into the barrels quickly.

Are you mad?

- They'll find us.
- No, no.

They won't, I promise you.

Please, please. You must trust me.

Do as he says.

Move your big ginger head.

Bifur, get in the barrel! Move!

Everyone's in.

What do we do now?

Hold your breath.

Hold my breath? What do you mean?

Where is the Keeper of the Keys?

Well done, Master Baggins.

Go! Come on, let's go!

Hold on!

Bilbo!

Hang on!

No!

Watch out! There's Orcs!

Get under the bridge!

Kili!

Kili!

Kili.

Kili!

Nori!

Cut the log!

Bombur!

Tauriel.

Oh, it's you!

Why am I here, Gandalf?

Trust me, Radagast.

I would not have called you here
without good reason.

This is not a nice place to meet.

No.

It is not.

These are dark spells, Gandalf.

Old and full of hate.

Who's buried here?

If he had a name,
it's long since been lost.

He would have been known
only as a servant of evil.

One of a number.

One of nine.

Why now, Gandalf? I don't understand.

The Ringwraiths have
been summoned to Dol Guldur.

But it cannot be the Necromancer.

A human sorcerer could not summon such evil.

Who said it was human?

The Nine only answer to one master.

We've been blind, Radagast.

And in our blindness...

the Enemy has returned.

He is summoning his servants.

Azog the Defiler is no ordinary hunter.

He is a commander.

A commander of legions.

The Enemy is preparing for war.

It will begin in the East.

His mind is set upon that mountain.

- Where are you going?
- To rejoin the others.

Gandalf.

I started this. I cannot forsake them.

They are in grave danger.

If what you say is true
the world is in grave danger.

The power in that fortress
will only grow stronger.

You want me to cast my friends aside?

- Anything behind us?
- Not that I can see.

- I think we've outrun the Orcs.
- Not for long. We've lost the current.

Bombur's half drowned.

- Make for the shore!
- Aye.

Come on, let's go!

Gloin, help me, my brother.

Come on, lift yourself.

Come on!

Come on, you big lump, you!

I'm fine. It's nothing.

On your feet.

Kili's wounded. His leg needs binding.

There's an Orc pack on our tail.
We keep moving.

- To where?
- To the mountain. We're so close.

A lake lies between us
and that mountain.

- We have no way to cross it.
- So then we go around.

The Orcs will run us down,
as sure as daylight.

We've no weapons to defend ourselves.

Bind his leg, quickly.

You have two minutes.

Do it again and you're dead.

Excuse me but you're from Lake-town,
if I'm not mistaken.

That barge over there, it wouldn't be
available for hire, by any chance?

What makes you think I would help you?

Those boots have seen better days.

As has that coat.

No doubt you have some hungry mouths to feed.

How many bairns?

A boy and two girls.

And your wife, I imagine she's a beauty.

Aye.

She was.

I'm sorry. I didn't mean to...

Oh, come on, come on.
Enough of the niceties.

What's your hurry?

What's it to you?

I would like to know who you
are and what you are doing in these lands.

We are simple merchants
from the Blue Mountains...

journeying to see our kin in the Iron Hills.

Simple merchants, you say?

We need food, supplies, weapons.

Can you help us?

I know where these barrels came from.

What of it?

I don't know what business
you had with the Elves...

but I don't think it ended well.

No one enters Lake-town
but by leave of the Master.

All his wealth comes from trade
with the Woodland Realm.

He would see you in irons before risking
the wrath of King Thranduil.

Offer him more.

I'll wager there are ways
to enter that town unseen.

Aye.

But for that...

you would need a smuggler.

For which we would pay double.

Such is the nature of evil.

Out there in the vast ignorance
of the world it festers and spreads.

A shadow that grows in the dark.

A sleepless malice as black
as the oncoming wall of night.

So it ever was.

So will it always be.

In time, all foul things come forth.

You were tracking
a company of 13 Dwarves.

Why?

Not 13.

Not anymore.

The young one, the black-haired archer...

we stuck him with a Morgul shaft.

The poison's in his blood.

He'll be choking on it soon.

Answer the question, filth.

I would not antagonize her.

You like killing things, Orc?

You like death?

Then let me give it to you.

I do not care about one dead Dwarf.
Answer the question.

You have nothing to fear.

Tell us what you know
and I will set you free.

You had orders to kill them. Why?

What is Thorin Oakenshield to you?

- The Dwarf runt will never be king.
- King?

There is no King Under the Mountain,
nor will there ever be.

None would dare enter Erebor
whilst the dragon lives.

You know nothing.
Your world will burn.

What are you talking about?

Speak!

Our time has come again.

My master serves the One.

Do you understand now, Elfling?

Death is upon you.

The flames of war are upon you.

Why did you do that?

You promised to set him free.

And I did.

I freed his wretched head
from his miserable shoulders.

There was more the Orc could tell us.

There was nothing more he could tell me.

What did he mean by "the flames of war"?

It means they intend to unleash a weapon
so great it will destroy all before it.

I want the watch doubled at our borders.
All roads, all rivers.

Nothing moves, but I hear of it.

No one enters this kingdom.

And no one leaves it.

Watch out!

What are you trying to do, drown us?

I was born and bred on these waters,
Master Dwarf.

If I wanted to drown you,
I would not do it here.

Oh, I've had enough of this lippy Lakeman.

I say we throw him over the side
and be done with it.

- Bard, his name's Bard.
- How do you know?

I asked him.

I don't care what he calls himself.
I don't like him.

We do not have to like him.
We simply have to pay him.

Come on now, lads.
Turn out your pockets.

- How do we know he won't betray us?
- We don't.

There's... just a wee problem.

We're 10 coins short.

Gloin.

Come on.

- Give us what you have.
- Don't look to me.

I have been bled dry by this venture.

What have I seen for my investment?

Naught but misery and grief and...

Bless my beard.

Take it.

Take all of it.

The money, quick. Give it to me.

We will pay you when we get
our provisions but not before.

If you value your freedom,
you'll do as I say.

There are guards ahead.

What's he doing?

He's talking to someone.

He's pointing right at us.

Now they're shaking hands.

- What?
- The villain.

He's selling us out.

Quiet.

We're approaching the tollgate.

Halt!

Goods inspection!

Papers, please!

Oh, it's you, Bard.

Morning, Percy.

Anything to declare?

Nothing, but that I am cold
and tired and ready for home.

You and me both.

There we are.

All in order.

Not so fast.

"Consignment of empty barrels
from the Woodland Realm."

Only...

they're not empty.
Are they, Bard?

If I recall correctly you're
licensed as a bargeman.

Not a fisherman.

That's none of your business.

Wrong.

It's the Master's business,
which makes it my business.

Oh, come on, Alfrid, have a heart.
People need to eat.

These fish are illegal.

- Empty the barrels, over the side.
- You heard him. In the canal.

Come on. Get a move on.

Folk in this town are struggling.

Times are hard.
Food is scarce.

That's not my problem.

And when the people hear the Master is dumping
fish back in the lake...

when the rioting starts...

will it be your problem then?

Stop.

Ever the people's champion eh, Bard?

Protector of the common folk.

You might have their favor now,
bargeman but it won't last.

Raise the gate!

The Master has his eye on you.

You'd do well to remember:

We know where you live.

It's a small town, Alfrid.

Everyone knows where everyone lives.

All this talk of civil unrest.

Someone's been stirring the pot, sire.

Gout playing up, sire?

It's the damp.

It's the only possible explanation.

Get me a brandy.

The mood of the people, sire,
it's turning ugly.

They're commoners, Alfrid.
They've always been ugly.

It's not my fault they live in a place
that stinks of fish oil and tar.

Jobs, shelter, food.
It's all they ever bleat about.

It's my belief, sire, they are being
led on by troublemakers.

Then we must find these
troublemakers and arrest them.

My thoughts exactly, sire.

And all this talk of change
must be suppressed.

Can't afford to let the rabble band
together and start making noises.

The next thing you know,
they'll start asking questions...

forming committees...

launching inquiries.

Out with the old, in with the new?

What?

That's what they've been saying, sire.

- There is even talk of an election.
- An election?

That's absurd.
I won't stand for it.

I don't think they'd ask
you to stand, sire.

Shirkers.

Ingrates.

Rabble-rousers.

Who would have the nerve
to question my authority?

Who would dare?

Who?

Bard.

You mark my words.

That trouble-making bargeman
is behind all this.

- No one else would have the...
- Bollocks, sire.

Ram and goat, saut�ed in a lovely
little mushroom gravy.

In an ideal world, sire, we'd arrest him.

But Bard has the favor of the people.

They see him as a leader.

Someone they can truly admire.

Modest, intelligent...

handsome, athletic...

Yes, he's clearly modeling himself on me.

That's no crime.

I wonder...

I wonder if some ancient law might exist
that forbids bargemen from asking questions.

You think such a venerable
statute might exist?

Almost certainly, sire.

I'll write one immediately.

You picked the wrong man
to tangle with, Master Bard.

I hope you're watching yourself,
because I'll be watching you.

Get your hands off me.

You didn't see them.
They were never here.

The fish you can have for nothing.

Stay close.

Follow me.

What is this place?

This, Mr. Baggins, is the world of Men.

Get it over here now.

Grab the other end. That's it.

Keep your head's down, keep moving.

Quickly, now.

God, how many more are there?

Halt.

Come on. Move.

In the name of the Master of Lake-town.
I said halt.

Halt!

Stop them!

- Get back.
- Come here.

What's going on here?

Stay where you are. Nobody leaves.

Braga.

- Sorry?
- You.

What are you up to, Bard?

Me?
Nothing.

I'm looking for nothing.

Yeah.

Hey, Braga.

Your wife would look lovely in this.

What do you know of my wife?

I know her as well
as any man in this town.

Da!

Our house, it's being watched.

You can tell the Master I'm
done for the day.

Da! Where have you been?

Father! There you are! I was worried.

Here, Sigrid.

Bain, get them in.

If you speak of this to anyone
I'll rip your arms off.

Get off.

Up there.

Da, why are there Dwarves
climbing out of our toilet?

Will they bring us luck?

They may not be the best fit
but they'll keep you warm.

Thank you very much.

A Dwarvish windlance.

You look like you've seen a ghost.

He has.

The last time we saw such a weapon...

a city was on fire.

It was the day the dragon came.

The day that Smaug destroyed Dale.

Girion, the Lord of the City...

rallied his bowmen to fire upon the beast.

But a dragon's hide is tough.
Tougher than the strongest armor.

Only a Black Arrow fired from a windlance
could have pierced the dragon's hide.

And few of those arrows were ever made.

The store was running low when
Girion made his last stand.

Had the aim of Men been true that day...

much would have been different.

You speak as if you were there.

All Dwarves know the tale.

Then you would know
that Girion hit the dragon.

He loosened a scale under the left wing.

One more shot
and he would have killed the beast.

That's a fairy story, lad.

Nothing more.

You took our money.

Where are the weapons?

Wait here.

- Tomorrow begins the last days of autumn.
- Durin's Day falls the mom after next.

We must reach the mountain before then.

And if we do not?

If we fail to find the hidden door
before that time?

Then this quest has been for nothing.

What is this?

Pike hook.

Made from an old harpoon.

- And this?
- A crowbill, we call it.

Fashioned from a smithy's hammer.

It's heavy in hand, I grant
but in defense of your life...

these will serve you better than none.

We paid you for weapons.

Iron-forged swords and axes!

It's a joke!

You won't find better outside the city armory.

All iron-forged weapons are held
there under lock and key.

Thorin...

why not take what's on offer and go?
I've made do with less.

So have you.

- I say we leave now.
- You're not going anywhere.

- What did you say?
- There are spies watching this house...

and probably every dock
and wharf in the town.

You must wait till nightfall.

Thorin.

Da?

Don't let them leave.

Tauriel, you cannot hunt
30 Orcs on your own.

But I'm not on my own.

You knew I would come.

The king is angry, Tauriel.

For 600 years my father has
protected you, favored you.

You defied his orders.
You betrayed his trust.

The king has never let Orc
filth roam our lands.

Yet he would let this Orc pack cross
our borders and kill our prisoners.

- It is not our fight.
- It is our fight.

It will not end here.

With every victory, this evil will grow.

If your father has his way,
we will do nothing.

We will hide within our walls...

live our lives away from the light...

and let darkness descend.

Are we not part of this world?

Tell me, mellon. When did we let
evil become stronger than us?

Hello, Bard. What you after?

There was a tapestry!

An old one! Where's it gone?

What tapestry you talking about?

This one.

They were Dwarves, I tell you.
Appeared out of nowhere.

Full beards. Fierce eyes.

I've never seen the like.

What are Dwarves doing in these parts?

- It's the prophecy.
- The prophecy?

The Prophecy of Durin's Folk.

Prophecy.

Prophecy.

The old tales will come true.

Vast halls of treasure!

Silver and gold and jewels beyond measure.

Can you imagine?

Can it really be true?

Has the lord of silver fountains returned?

The lord of the silver fountains

The King of carven stone

The King beneath the mountain

Shall come into his own!

And the bell shall ring in gladness

At the Mountain King's return

But all shall fail in sadness

And the lake will shine and burn.

Da, I tried to stop them.

How long have they been gone?

- Can you see anything?
- Keep it down.

As soon as we have the weapons
we make straight for the mountain.

Go, go, go!

Go, Nori.

Next.

Prophecy?

Who dragged up that old nonsense?

People, sire.
They're gathering in the streets.

They're saying that a king
will return to the Lonely Mountain...

and that the rivers will once more
run with gold.

- Rivers of gold? Poppycock.
- As you say, sire.

But people will believe
what they want to believe.

It's been a long time
since they've seen any riches.

The old tales offer them hope.

You all right?

I can manage.

Let's just get out of here.

Run!

Quickly! Move now!

Get off me! Get off!

Move them along here.

Move on!

What is the meaning of this?

We caught them stealing weapons, sire.

Enemies of the state, eh?

A desperate bunch of mercenaries,
if ever there was, sire.

Hold your tongue!

You do not know to whom you speak.

This is no common criminal.

This is Thorin...

son of Thrain, son of Thror!

We are the Dwarves of Erebor.

We have come to reclaim our homeland.

I remember this town
in the great days of old.

Fleets of boats lay at harbor
filled with silks and fine gems.

This was no forsaken town on a lake.

This was the center of all trade in the North!

I would see those days return.

I would relight the great
forges of the Dwarves...

and send wealth and riches flowing
once more from the Halls of Erebor!

Death!

That is what you will bring upon us!

Dragon fire and ruin.

If you waken that beast
it will destroy us all.

You can listen to this naysayer
but I promise you this:

If we succeed...

all will share in the wealth of the mountain.

You will have enough gold
to rebuild Esgaroth 10 times over!

Why should we take you at your word?

We know nothing about you.

Who here can vouch for your character?

Me.

I'll vouch for him.

I have traveled far with these
Dwarves through great danger...

and if Thorin Oakenshield
gives his word...

then he will keep it.

All of you!

Listen to me!
You must listen!

Have you forgotten what happened to Dale?

Have you forgotten those
who died in the firestorm?!

And for what purpose?

The blind ambition of a Mountain King...

so riven by greed, he could not
see beyond his own desire!

Now, now!

We must not, any of us be
too quick to lay blame.

Let us not forget that it
was Girion, Lord of Dale...

your ancestor, who failed
to kill the beast!

It's true, sire.

We all know the story.

Arrow after arrow, he shot.
Each one missing its mark.

You have no right.

No right to enter that mountain.

I have the only right.

I speak to the Master of the Men
of the Lake.

Will you see the prophecy fulfilled?

Will you share in the great
wealth of our people?

What say you?

I say unto you...

Welcome!

Welcome!

And thrice, welcome...

King Under the Mountain!

You do know we're one short.
Where's Bofur?

- If he's not here, we leave him behind.
- We'll have to.

If we're to find the door before nightfall,
we can risk no more delays.

Not you.

We must travel at speed.
You will slow us down.

What are you talking about?
I'm coming with you.

Not now.

I'm going to be there
when that door is opened.

When we first look upon
the Halls of our Fathers, Thorin.

Kili, stay here.

Rest.

Join us when you're healed.

I'll stay with the lad.

My duty lies with the wounded.

Uncle.

We grew up on tales of the mountain.
Tales you told us.

You cannot take
that away from him!

I will carry him if I must!

One day you will be king
and you will understand.

I cannot risk the fate of this quest
for the sake of one Dwarf.

Not even my own kin.
Fili, don't be a fool.

You belong with the company.

I belong with my brother.

By my beard, is that the time?!

Go now with our goodwill
and good wishes.

And may your return...

- bring good fortune to all!
- Wait!

Good bye.

Out of the way!

No! No!

So you missed the boat as well?

Kili? Kili!

Hey.

Get out of there. Go on.

Masterfully handled, sire.

Your popularity has never been so high.

The entire town twittering your name.

Yes, it was rather clever.

Either our little friends return triumphant...

in which case, I stand
to make a pretty penny...

or old Smaug dines on Dwarf
for a day or two.

The important thing is,
they're off our hands.

Please, wait.

Please. We need your help.

- My brother is sick.
- Sick?

Is it infectious?

Get back.

Alfrid, Alfrid...

- don't let them come any closer.
- Please.

We need medicine.

Do I look like an apothecary?

Haven't we given you enough?
The master's a busy man.

He hasn't got time to worry
about sick Dwarves.

Be gone with you. Go on.
Clear off.

What this town needs, Alfrid,
is a good purge.

Starting with a certain troublemaker
who saw fit to question my authority.

- A certain bargeman, sire?
- Precisely.

No.

I'm done with Dwarves. Go away.

No, no, no! Please!

No one will help us. Kili's sick.

He's very sick.

So quiet.

Wasn't always like this.

Once, these slopes were lined with woodlands.

The trees were filled with birdsong.

Relax, Master Baggins.

We have food, we have tools,
and we're making good time.

What is this place?

It was once the city of Dale.

Now it is a ruin.

The desolation of Smaug.

The sun will soon reach midday.

We must find the hidden door
into the mountain before it sets.

This way.

Wait. Is this the overlook?

Gandalf said to meet him here.

- On no account were we to...
- Do you see him?

We have no time to wait upon the Wizard.

We're on our own. Come!

Dol Guldur.

The Hill of Sorcery.

- It looks completely abandoned.
- As it is meant to.

A spell of concealment lies
over this place...

which means our Enemy is not
yet ready to reveal himself.

He has not regained his full strength.

Radagast, I need you to carry a message
to the Lady Galadriel.

Tell her we must force his hand.

- What do you mean?
- I'm going in alone.

On no account come after me.

- Do I have your word?
- Yes, yes, yes, yes!

Wait, Gandalf!

What if it's a trap?!

Turn around and do not come back.

It's undoubtedly a trap.

- Anything?
- Nothing.

If the map is true the hidden
door lies directly above us.

Up here!

You have keen eyes, Mr. Baggins.

Thrain?

Son of Thror?

My old friend.

Gandalf?

A lifetime.

I have been here a lifetime.

I'm so sorry I gave you up for dead.

I had a son.

I will fight with you.

Thorin.

And you will see him again, my friend.

Come, we must leave.

The Orcs had taken Moria.

War. We were at war.

I was surrounded.

The Defiler.

Azog the Defiler had come.

They took it.

The last of the seven.

Come on, let's get you out of here.

There is no way out.

They will stop you.
The serpents will stop you.

It's an illusion.

Just an illusion.

What have they done to you?

I never told them.

They tried to make me,
but I never said a word.

Have you kept them safe, Gandalf?
The map and the key?

I gave them to Thorin.

You'd be proud of him.
He's taken up the quest to reclaim Erebor.

Erebor.

He will retrieve the Arkenstone.

The seven armies of the Dwarves
will answer to a new king.

No, no. Thorin must not go near Erebor.

No one must enter that mountain.

This must be it.

The hidden door.

Let all those who doubted us rue this day!

Right, then. We have a key.

Which means that somewhere
there is a key-hole.

"The last light of Durin's Day...

will shine upon the key-hole."

Nori.

We're losing the light. Come on.

Be quiet! I can't hear when you're thumping.

I can't find it.

It's not here!

It's not here!

- Break it down!
- Aye.

Come on!

Break!

It has to break.

It's no good.

The door's sealed.
Can't be opened by force.

There's a powerful magic on it.

No!

"The last light of Durin's Day...

will shine upon the key-hole."

That is what it says.

What did we miss?

What did we miss?

- Balin?
- We've lost the light.

There's no more to be done.

We had but one chance.

Come away, lads.
It's over.

- Wait a minute.
- We're too late.

Where are they going?

You can't give up now!

Thorin.

You can't give up now.

"Stand by the gray stone...

when the thrush knocks."

The setting sun.

And "the last light
of Durin's Day will shine..."

The last light.

Last light.

The last light!

The key-hole!

Come back!

Come back!

It's the light of the moon!
The last moon of autumn!

Where's the key? Where's the key?
Where's the...?

It was here.

Come on, it was... It was here.

It was just...

Erebor.

Thorin.

I know these walls.

These halls.

This stone.

You remember it, Balin.

Chambers filled with golden light.

I remember.

"Herein lies the Seventh
Kingdom of Durin's Folk.

May the Heart of the Mountain unite
all Dwarves in defense of this home."

The Throne of the King.

And what's that above it?

The Arkenstone.

Arkenstone.

And what's that?

That, Master Burglar...

is why you are here.

Can you not do something?

I need herbs.
Something to bring down his fever.

I have nightshade. I have feverfew.

They're no use to me.
Do you have any kingsfoil?

No, it's a weed.
We feed it to the pigs.

Pigs?

Weed.

Right.

Don't move.

You want me to find a jewel?

A large, white jewel.

Yes.

That's it? Only, I imagine
there's quite a few down there.

There is only one Arkenstone
and you'll know it when you see it.

Right.

In truth lad...

I do not know what you
will find down there.

You needn't go if you don't want to.
There's no dishonor in turning back.

No, Balin.

I promised I would do this
and I think I must try.

It never ceases to amaze me.

- What's that?
- The courage of Hobbits.

Go now...

with as much luck as you can muster.

Oh, Bilbo?

If there is, in fact a...
live dragon down there...

don't waken it.

He is waiting for them.

They are in league.

The dragon and the One.

Hurry. We must hurry.

Where is your master?

Where is he?!

He is here.

Tell Thorin, that I loved him.

Will you do that?
Will you tell my son that I loved him?

You will tell him yourself.

It is too late.

Sauron!

Hello?

He's not at home.

Not at home.

Good.

Good, good, good.

What's that?

Arkenstone.

Arkenstone.

A large, white jewel.

Very helpful.

Well...

thief.

I smell you.

I hear your breath.

I feel your air.

Where are you?

Where are you?

Come, now...

don't be shy.

Step into the light.

There is something about you.

Something you carry.

Something made of gold.

But far more precious.

Precious! Precious!

There you are...

Thief in the Shadows.

I did not come to steal from you...

O Smaug, the Unassessably Wealthy.

I merely wanted to gaze
upon your magnificence.

To see if you really were
as great as the old tales say.

I did not believe them.

And do you now?!

Truly...

the tales and songs fall utterly
short of your enormity...

O Smaug the Stupendous.

Do you think flattery will keep you alive?

- No, no.
- No, indeed.

You seem familiar with my name but I don't
remember smelling your kind before.

Who are you and where
do you come from...

may I ask?

I come from under the hill.

Underhill?

And under hills...

and over hills my path has led.

And through the air.
I am he who walks unseen.

Impressive.

What else do you claim to be?

I am...

Luck-wearer.

Riddle-maker.

Lovely titles.
Go on.

Barrel-rider.

Barrels? Now that is interesting.

And what about your little Dwarf friends?

Where are they hiding?

Dwarves?

No.

No, no. No Dwarves here.

You've got that all wrong.

Oh, I don't think so, Barrel-rider!

They sent you in here to do their dirty
work while they skulk about outside.

Truly you are mistaken. O Smaug,
Chiefest and Greatest of Calamities.

You have nice manners...

for a thief and a liar!

I know the smell and taste of Dwarf.

No one better!

It is the gold!

They are drawn to treasure
like flies to dead flesh.

Did you think I did not
know this day would come?!

That a pack of canting Dwarves would come
crawling back to the mountain?!

Was that an earthquake?

That, my lad...

was a dragon.

Da?

It's coming from the mountain.

You should leave us.

Take your children.

Get out of here.

And go where?

There is nowhere to go.

Are we going to die, Da?

No, darling.

The dragon.
It's going to kill us.

Not if I kill it first.

The King Under the Mountain is dead.
I took his throne.

I ate his people like a wolf among sheep.

I kill where I wish, when I wish.

My armor is iron.

No blade can pierce me.

All right.

A Black Arrow?
Why did you never tell me?

Because you did not need to know.

Listen to me carefully.

I need you to distract the guards.

Once I'm at the top of the tower,
I'll set the arrow to the bow.

There he is!

Bard!

- After him!
- Quickly! Down there. Go!

Stop him!

Stop him!

Stop!

Bain! Bain.

Keep it safe. Don't let anyone find it.
I'll deal with them.

- I'm not leaving you.
- Now go!

Braga.

You're under arrest.

- On what charge?
- Any charge the Master chooses.

Where's he gone?

What about Bilbo?

Give him more time.

Time to do what? To be killed?

You're afraid.

Yes, I'm afraid.

I fear for you.

A sickness lies upon that treasure hoard.

A sickness which drove
your grandfather mad.

- I am not my grandfather.
- You're not yourself.

The Thorin I know would not
hesitate to go in there...

I will not risk this quest
for the life of one burglar.

Bilbo.

His name is Bilbo.

It's Oakenshield...

that filthy Dwarvish usurper.

He sent you in here
for the Arkenstone, didn't he?

No. No, no.
I don't know what you're talking about.

Don't bother denying it.

I guessed his foul purpose some time ago.

But it matters not.
Oakenshield's quest will fail.

The darkness is coming.

It will spread to every corner of the land.

You are being used, Thief in the Shadows.
You were only ever a means to an end.

The coward, Oakenshield, has weighed the value
of your life and found it worth nothing.

No.

No.

No, you're lying.

What did he promise you?
A share of the treasure?

As if it was his to give.

I will not part with a single coin.
Not one piece of it.

My teeth are swords.
My claws are spears.

My wings are a hurricane.

So it is true.
The Black Arrow found its mark.

What did you say?

I was just saying your reputation
precedes you, O Smaug the Tyrannical.

Truly. You have no equal on this earth.

I am almost tempted to let you take it.
If only to see Oakenshield suffer.

Watch it destroy him.
Watch it corrupt his heart and drive him mad.

But I think not.
I think our little game ends here.

So tell me, thief.

How do you choose to die?

Da? Is that you, Da?

Stay down!

Get down!

You killed them all.

There are others.

Tauriel.

Come.

We're losing him.

Tauriel.

Athelas.

Athelas.

What are you doing?

I'm going to save him.

- You're alive!
- Not for much longer.

- Did you find the Arkenstone?
- The dragon's coming.

Did you find it?

We have to get out.

Thorin.

Thorin.

You will burn!

Run!

Come on, Bilbo!

Come on.

Hold him down.

Tilda.

We've given him the slip.

No.

He's too cunning for that.

- So where to now?
- The western guardroom.

- There may be a way out.
- It's too high.

- There's no chance that way.
- It's our only chance.

We have to try.

Come on.

I've heard tell of the wonders
of Elvish medicine.

That was a privilege to witness.

Tauriel.

Lie still.

You cannot be her.

She is far away.

She is far, far away from me.

She walks in starlight in another world.

It was just a dream.

Do you think she could've loved me?

Stay close.

That's it, then.

There's no way out.

The last of our kin.

They must have come here...

hoping beyond hope.

We could try to reach the mines.
We might last a few days.

No.

I will not die like this.

Cowering.
Clawing for breath.

We make for the forges.

- He'll see us, sure as death.
- Not if we split up.

Thorin...

- we'll never make it.
- Some of us might.

Lead him to the forges.

We kill the dragon.

If this is to end in fire then
we will all burn together.

This way.

Flee.

Flee.

Run for your lives.

There is nowhere to hide.

Behind you!

Come on!

Run!

Hey, you!

Here!

This way. It's this way!

Come on!

Thorin!

Follow Balin!

- Thorin.
- Come on!

Thorin!

Hold on!

Thorin!

Go. Go!

The plan's not gonna work.
These furnaces are stone cold.

He's right. We've no fire hot
enough to set them ablaze.

Have we not?

I did not look to see you so easily outwitted.

You have grown slow
and fat in your dotage...

slug!

Take cover. Go!

Bombur!

Get those bellows working.

Go!

Bilbo! Up there.
On my mark pull that lever.

Balin! Can you still mix a flash-flame?

Aye. It'll only take a jiffy. Come on!

We don't have a jiffy.

Where's the sulfur?

You sure you know
what you're doing?

Come on!

Now!

Lead him to the Gallery of the Kings.

Keep going, Bilbo!

Run!

You think you can deceive me, Barrel-rider?

You have come from Lake-town.

This is some sordid scheme hatched
between these filthy Dwarves...

and those miserable
tub-trading Lakemen.

Those sniveling cowards...

with their long bows and Black Arrows.

Perhaps it is time I paid them a visit.

Oh, no.

This isn't their fault!

Wait!

You cannot go to Lake-town!

You care about them, do you?

Good.

Then you can watch them die.

Here!

You witless worm!

You.

I am taking back what you stole.

You will take nothing from me...

Dwarf.

I laid low your warriors of old.

I instilled terror in the hearts of Men.

I am King Under the Mountain.

This is not your kingdom.
These are Dwarf lands.

This is Dwarf gold.

And we will have our revenge.

Revenge?!

Revenge?!

I will show you revenge!

Listen to me!

Do you not know what is coming?

I am fire.

I am...

death.

What have we done?