THORIN:
What is that?

In your hand.

It's nothing.

Show me.

It...

I picked it up in Beorn's garden.

You've carried it all this way?

I'm gonna plant it in my garden.

In Bag End.

It's a poor prize to
take back to the Shire.

One day, it'll grow.

And every time I look at it, I'll remember.

Remember everything that happened,
the good, the bad...

...and how lucky I am that I made it home.

 

ارسال دیدگاه

Gimli: Certainty of death. Small chance of success. What are we waiting for?

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