Ten days ago King Brand and King Dáin died defending the gates of Erebor. Now their sons Bard and Thorin lead the men and dwarves out of the mountain to retake Dale. The Easterlings are soon in full retreat.

They will rule as King Bard II of Dale and King Thorin III of Erebor.

An Eagle of the north reaches Minas Tirith.

‘Sing now, ye people of the Tower of Anor
for the Realm of Sauron is ended for ever
and the Dark Tower is thrown down.
Sing and rejoice
ye people of the Tower of Guard
for your watch hath not been in vain
and the Black Gate is broken.’

Frodo and Sam reach the mountain’s foot. ‘What a tale we have been in, Mr. Frodo, haven’t we? I wish I could hear it! And I wonder how it will go on after our part.’ Molten rock flows past. Ash rains down.

They fall, senseless, but are caught up by two great Eagles of the north.

‘I am glad that you are here with me. Here at the end of all things, Sam.’ Frodo is himself again. ‘We are lost in ruin and downfall, and there is no escape.’

‘Well, Master, we could at least go further from this dangerous place here, from this Crack of Doom. Now couldn’t we?’

Standing with Éowyn on a wall of Minas Tirith, Faramir sees a shadow rise above Mordor. ‘It reminds me of Númenor…of the great dark wave climbing over the green lands and above the hills, and coming on, darkness unescapable. I often dream of it.’

The Shadow departs. They kiss.

Gandalf proclaims: ‘The realm of Sauron is ended! The Ring-bearer has fulfilled his Quest.’ The Black Gate and its towers fall. Orcs turn and flee.

Gandalf asks the great eagle Gwaihir to carry him south.

‘I would bear you whither you will, even were you made of stone.’

Gollum bites off Frodo’s finger. Holding both finger and Ring aloft, he squeals, ‘My Precious!’ Stepping back, he falls with the Ring into the chasm.

Fire leaps up. Sam carries Frodo out. As they watch, the shadows around the distant Barad-dûr lift, then the tower crumbles.

Frodo enters the Sammath Naur. ‘I have come. But…I will not do this deed. The Ring is mine!’ He puts on the Ring and vanishes.

Sauron’s forces suddenly waver. The Nazgûl turn and fly away south. Gandalf cries: ‘Stand, Men of the West! Stand and wait! This is the hour of doom.’

Gollum attacks Frodo, who grasps the Ring and dooms Gollum with a curse: ‘If you touch me ever again, you shall be cast yourself into the Fire of Doom.’ Sam draws Sting, but can’t bring himself to slay Gollum.

One hundred miles away, Gandalf looks north. ‘The Eagles are coming!’