In this series of blogs, I explore the detailed musical depths of The Lord of the Rings: The Rings of Power. For a comprehensive look at my score for the series, explore my previous blog entries here, and check out the soundtrack albums (a compilation for each season and a comprehensive album for each episode) available on all platforms.
SCORING EPISODE 201
“ELVEN KINGS UNDER THE SKY”
For the first season of The Lord of the Rings: The Rings of Power I spent six weeks writing main themes, then eight months scoring the episodes, usually clocking in twelve to fourteen hours of work a day. I then spent six more months preparing and rehearsing for performances at various public events to help launch the show, including San Diego Comic-Con and the glitzy red-carpet premiere in London. In that same time, I also crafted a main soundtrack album, as well as an album for each individual episode. And after all that… I started writing blogs! By October 2022, I had been working on The Rings of Power without rest for fifteen months, so I looked forward to the opportunity to step back from the project for a while. Instead, I got the call I had been anticipating with equal parts anxiety and exhilaration: it was time to start writing music for season two.
At that early stage there was no footage to score yet. The showrunners, J.D. Payne and Patrick McKay, asked me to write several songs in pre-production that could be recorded in advance and played back on set for various on-camera musical needs. I laughed when I realized I would not even get a single day off from The Rings of Power between seasons!
The showrunners sent me a working draft of all eight scripts, and I spent a weekend sprawled across the couch in my studio, wrapped up in a blanket, reading. I sensed deepening drama and rising tension in their pages, and I felt like a kid again, reading Tolkien for the first time. My musical imagination flared into overdrive. I heard new, angelic statements of the Sauron theme, joyful variants of “Where the Shadows Lie,” and heroic fanfares of Elrond’s theme. I also began pondering what I might write for new themes, including ones for Rhûn, Eregion, Shelob, the Ents, and of course, one of Tolkien’s most enigmatic and musical characters, Tom Bombadil.
When I was hired on season one, I never concerned myself with trying to match the musical works that preceded me in earlier adaptations. I just wrote the music I wanted to hear as a fan, and hoped that other fans out there would like it. This time around, surprisingly, I suddenly felt the crushing anxiety of working under the shadow of my own body of work! I faced having to write location themes that could rival the majesty of “Khazad-dûm” or “Númenor,” and character themes that could go toe-to-toe with “Galadriel” and “The Stranger.” Finally setting my fears aside, I dove in with the same philosophy that guided me through the first season: to write the music I felt best served this story.
A SHADOW OF THE PAST
SPOILERS AHEAD: As with the first season, the second opens as a choir offers a quiet refrain of an important musical theme against a black screen. Last season, an angelic children’s choir heralded a cut to the sunny fields of Valinor. This season begins with an ominous, low male choir statement of the Sauron theme, presaging an evil coronation of a new Dark Lord. The men sing in Tolkien’s language Quenya, “Heru Morë,” which translates to “Dark Lord.”
Our story begins at the dawn of the Second Age, with a nearly twenty-minute prologue that details the instigation of conflict between Sauron and his ruthless lieutenant Adar. It chronicles Sauron’s journey over thousands of years leading up to his introduction in the first season, when Galadriel finds him on the raft on the open sea. I scored this mammoth sequence mostly with variants of the Sauron theme. The theme begins fractured, deprived of its turbulent string ostinato. I wanted the audience to subconsciously feel that Sauron’s theme was incomplete, the phrases never piecing themselves together into a satisfying whole, until he at last takes the recognizable form of Halbrand.
The audience meets Sauron, here in a form played seductively by Jack Lowden, making a speech before his Orcs at his coronation. In conspiracy with Adar, Sauron’s Orcs mutiny against him in a brutal stabbing reminiscent of Julius Caesar. Initially, I scored this scene with tension and horror. Patrick McKay suggested I was missing a sense of epic, barbarous beauty, and cited the score to Conan the Barbarian. Once you mention Basil Poledouris’ groundbreaking cinematic achievement, you are speaking my language! I knew exactly what to do, and rewrote the passage. This time, I underlined the Shakespearean tragedy of the scene with pounding drums, screaming brass fanfares, and chanting choirs, offering lyrical commentary on the dark ceremony.
Quenya:
Herumor orya kéva
Morna ríe vanya lyn
Luituvalve Endóre naite morinen
talan sina Herumorëo serkenen
English:
Dark Lord rise anew
Crown of shadow pass to you.
We shall flood Middle-earth with darkness true,
(And) this floor with Dark Lord blood.
Sauron falls, and his consciousness fades, imprinting on him the last image he will ever see with these eyes: his soldiers’ bloodlust as they stab at his body. Here, I underlined Sauron’s sadness with a haunting statement of his theme from child soprano Juno Goode, singing lyrics in Mordor’s Black Speech that frequently appear in Sauron’s melody, “Burzum-ank nampat,” meaning “Death into darkness.” Her voice appears again moments later when the oily remnants of his body drip through cracks in the cold rock into a reeking underground puddle.
I wrote Sauron’s melody for a child singer at the end of season one, when he made an appeal to Galadriel to join him. I was so struck by the effectiveness of that moment that I decided to incorporate the sound of a child vocalist into the primary vocabulary for Sauron’s theme for season two. Listen for more of Juno’s beautiful vocal tones throughout the rest of this season, especially on moments underlining Sauron’s menace masked by outward vulnerability.
While the vast majority of the opening sequence is scored with Sauron’s theme, I also took the opportunity to reacquaint the audience with Adar’s theme, for the character now portrayed with intriguing depth by Sam Hazeldine. Last season, I experimented with Adar’s theme by recording it with a variety of Asian woodwind instruments, most often a Japanese shakuhachi and a Chinese membrane flute. This season, his story is more fleshed out, so I wanted to clarify his musical signature. Now, we consistently recorded the Adar theme on a solo ney, an end-blown flute that features prominently in traditional Middle Eastern music.
The Adar Theme first peeks into the score before the assassination, as Adar surveys the growing tension in the room between his Orcs and their new would-be leader, Sauron. After the mutiny, when Adar takes the crown and assumes leadership, the drums, low strings, and low woodwinds fire up the signature march that empowered their army last season.
This theme belongs to Adar, though it is called “Nampat” on the soundtrack album, named for the Black Speech word meaning “Death,” chanted relentlessly, both in the score and by the Orcs themselves. By starting when Adar picks up the crown, the “Nampat” march, complete with the ney whispering his enigmatic melody, emphasizes that Adar’s leadership of the Orcs has begun.
Sauron lies in a scum puddle for likely a few thousand years, before he is able to reassemble himself, taking the form of Halbrand and vowing vengeance. This marks the season’s first appearance of actor Charlie Vickers, who will continue to morph his voice and appearance as he brilliantly depicts the wicked shapeshifter in various forms.
As Halbrand takes his first steps, the urgent tremolo string ostinato of the Sauron ostinato finally sneaks in. The theme is hesitant, mirroring Sauron’s awkward first steps in this new form. At the same time, the low male choir offers Sauron’s melody, growing increasingly confident with every line.
Black Speech:
Nampakoz durbol, dorz iklish glugak.
Skarg-sha ralûk, ghubagdafat,
Burzum-ish duthmak
English:
Lord of the dead, cast in a new form.
Filled with revenge, unrelenting,
Reborn in darkness
I was particularly delighted by this sequence, witnessing the actor’s physical gestures and the score’s orchestral phrases linked so closely. Now that Sauron has taken this familiar form, at last, his entire theme is pieced together, presented in full for the first time in season two.
At some point later, Sauron wanders as Halbrand, and encounters Diarmid, an old man fleeing danger with other refugees. Sauron spots familiar heraldry around the man’s neck. Here, the score resonates with the Halbrand theme, a folk-inspired tune played by a duet of Nordic instruments, Erik Rydvall’s nyckelharpa and Olav Luksengård Mjelva’s Hardanger fiddle.
(As I detailed in my last blog entry for this show, the Halbrand theme is a backwards version of the Sauron theme!) The Halbrand theme also represents the Southlands itself, Diarmid’s home country. Hearing here this rustic duet playing a theme that represents both Halbrand and the Southlands underlines for the audience how Sauron eventually got the idea to hijack this man’s identity for his own purposes.
Later, their ship is attacked by the sea worm. I scored this sequence with a new version of the same relentless 3/4 string ostinato and gruesome low brass melody I composed for the creature in season one. (I suppose that makes this music the Sea Worm theme!)
Our prologue concludes with Halbrand awaiting his fate on a makeshift raft. The Sauron ostinato engages in full force after he hears Galadriel call for help. The choir singers foreshadow the words Halbrand will shortly say to her when she reaches the raft, singing in Quenya, “Sólar ambarto,” meaning “The tides of fate.”
The Sauron theme ramps to the season’s first main title card. Here, a triumphant chorale fanfare repeats and fulfills Halbrand’s dialogue, proclaiming “Sólar ambarto siryar,” meaning “The tides of fate are flowing.” The choir singing Sauron’s first line of dialogue from season one over the title card of season two is dramatically fitting, because Sauron’s plan will strategically unfold over the next eight episodes. Supported by soaring French horns and trumpets, the choir sings these words over a melody called “Nolwa Mahtar.” I will explore the strange story behind this theme in a future blog.
GOLDEN LEAVES
After the series title card, the show leaps to the present day, the point in the narrative timeline from which season two’s main stories spring forth. Galadriel relentlessly pursues Elrond, who holds the three Rings of Power in a pouch at his side, across the Elven realm of Lindon. This sequence is charged with a rousing volley of percussion, urgent marcato strings, and brief, clashing fanfares of their two themes. This first appearance of the Elrond theme in a brassy, loud voicing foreshadows his intense variations later in the season.
Elrond eludes Galadriel, and she allows herself to be escorted under guard before High King Gil-galad, heralded in the score by chiming ceremonial bells. Supported by warm, orchestral celli, an expressive English horn solo offers the first appearance of new thematic material in the score, a haunting solo melody called “Golden Leaves.”
This melody recurs in one of the season’s most striking musical performances, when Gil-galad sings a lament to the assembly of Elves gathered at the dying tree at the end of the episode. Characters expressing themselves in song is a core tenet of Tolkien’s writing, so everyone involved loved this opportunity to create a musical performance inspired by the spirit of the source material.
Writing “Golden Leaves” was my first official task of The Rings of Power season two, because it needed to be conceived and recorded in advance of shooting so the actor, Benjamin Walker, could sing it on set. The pensive lyric was crafted by writer J.D. Payne, inspired in part by lyrics Tolkien wrote for a song sung by Galadriel in The Fellowship of the Ring.
Quenya:
Sís laurië lassi taiter,
yénin linwavandië.
Anpalla Vai Ahtalëa,
sí lantar Eldaniër.
Eldalié! Eldalié!
Hrívë túla helda ré úlassëa.
Eldalié! Eldalié!
I lassi lantar celumenna.
(children’s choir)
Cormar nelde aranin Eldaron
Eldalié and’ amárielvë
ambena solor.
Sí néca riëmancan,
viliën an Valinor
Eldalié! Eldalié!
Hrívë túla helda ré úlassëa.
Eldalié! Eldalié!
I lassi lantar celumenna.
English:
Here long the golden leaves grew,
on years branching.
For beyond the Sundering Seas,
now fall Elven-tears.
O’ Elven-kind! O’ Elven-kind!
Winter is coming, bare leafless day.
O’ Elven-kind! O’ Elven-kind!
The leaves are falling in the stream.
(children’s choir)
Three rings for the Elven kings
Elven-kind long have we dwelt
upon this hither shore.
Now fading crown I trade,
to sail to Valinor.
O’ Elven-kind! O’ Elven-kind!
Winter is coming, bare leafless day.
O’ Elven-kind! O’ Elven-kind!
The leaves are falling in the stream.
I got to know Ben quite well during the process of working on “Golden Leaves,” and, like many of the folks I’ve met in Middle-earth, we became good pals. Due to Ben’s extensive background in Broadway musicals, I knew he would bring to this song a powerful range and confident vocal control.
“Singing is such a part of Tolkien’s writing and so intrinsic to who the Elves are,” Ben recalled to me recently. “The song serves a purpose in the story. It’s a funeral dirge. The end is nigh.”
Ben and I communicated frequently during my composition, and I eventually produced a demo of the song that he rehearsed on his own in the weeks before we recorded it in the studio. I composed it on the upper edge of his singing voice. “You know, it was written at that point where you’re singing, where you either pop up into a belt or you roll into a falsetto or you just kind of sing a straight light tone,” Ben recalled.
We discovered, however, when Ben stepped before a microphone at a recording studio in London, that the melody in that key did not sound as we hoped. “It didn’t have the strength and it wasn’t mournful enough,” Ben confessed. “And it sounded labored, frankly. It lacked a grace and ease that the King would have. And then I remember you going, ‘OK, let’s take it down. No, let’s take it down again.’ And that’s where you feel safe as a collaborator. This is new territory, but I am now your instrument.”
By modulating the music down, we found a key in which Ben could channel the rich baritone of Gil-galad’s speaking voice and also effectively communicate the emotion of the lament. The session truly was a group effort. I was producing the recording session remotely, listening from my studio in Los Angeles, offering feedback, while dialect coach Leith McPherson guided Ben’s pronunciation of the Quenya text.
Creative decisions always go more smoothly when everyone is working in a comfortable, open environment. “You’re willing to listen and collaborate, but ultimately it’s your vision and the buck stops with you,” Ben told me. “And the truth is, in collaboration, that makes the other collaborators feel safe. Also, you are by far one of the most passionate collaborators on the show! You understand story; you’re a storyteller. You’re a composer, you’re a musician, but you’re a storyteller through song. I think you’re truly unique in that sense. You have a sound and a point of view, but how you write and what you write is mercurial because it is applied to different narratives.”
Even though he had pre-recorded the song, Ben chose to sing it live on set, instead of lip-syncing to the pre-recorded performance. For actors, “your work off camera is infinitely more important than your work on camera,” Ben said. “The performance that I give, that they capture on film, it has to have the gravitas and the muscularity, and physically match the sound that I know that we’re happy with, that we recorded.”
“Golden Leaves” had a shocking public debut, surprising everyone involved, especially Ben. At the crowded San Diego Comic-Con panel in 2024, showrunner J.D. Payne, in an impromptu moment, asked Ben if he would sing a refrain from the song. Ben had not sung or even heard it in nearly two years! “I took a few seconds to stand,” Ben recalled with a laugh, “because my initial thought was, well, if by the time I’m standing, I don’t remember it, I can make a funny gag and run off stage. But luckily, I had done it fifty, sixty times during production and had the muscle memory of it, and the fact that I was standing just kicked in something. You know, the king is standing there with arms aloft!”
Watching from backstage (after I had performed the panel’s opening fanfare) my heart pounded as Ben boldly sang a refrain of our song, his voice soaring over the seven thousand fans packed into the hall. This was a testament to Ben’s musicality and professionalism and, truly, to the memorable quality of the chorus’s hook.
When I saw the final mix of the completed episode, I was moved by how beautifully “Golden Leaves” fit in the show. I felt like together, the showrunners, musicians, music team, cast, and I had collectively captured a piece of Tolkien’s love of folk music, evident everywhere in his writing, and put it on screen. “Being an actor, you are a conduit, a canvas for other artists,” Ben said. “What a privilege to have been part of this song.”
THE SHIPWRIGHT
I was so excited to discuss “Golden Leaves” that I jumped ahead in the story! Let me back up.
Confronted by both Elrond and Gil-galad, Galadriel reveals to them both the shocking truth that Halbrand is, in fact, Sauron. A tense stand-off follows as the three argue over what to do, while fragments of the Sauron theme, the Rings theme, and the Elrond theme weave through the soundtrack. Convinced the rings should not be used, Elrond leaps with them from a high waterfall, to prevent his King from taking them. His fall into the mists below is mirrored by a descending flourish in orchestral strings and woodwinds.
Surviving his dive and seeking an ally, Elrond sneaks to a seaport known as the Grey Havens, supported by a quick woodwind quotation of his theme as he hides under a stony bridge. As the camera pulls back across this iconic location from Tolkien’s writing, I introduce a serene chorale, built from two unrelated major chords followed by surprising minor chords. The singers gently offer the Quenya words “Mistalondi, nóri Eldaron,” meaning “Grey Havens, Elven lands.”
To declare this passage the Grey Havens theme as of now would be a bit of a stretch, since it only occurs once in the series so far. Should the narrative require a theme for this location in the future, however, the musical seeds are planted here for a proper Grey Havens theme down the line.
The audience is introduced to Círdan the shipwright, portrayed with radiant wisdom by Ben Daniels. Círdan is one of the wisest and oldest Elves in Middle-earth. Círdan firmly reminds an apprentice that perfection is a concept that only exists in Valinor. The audience intuits he has a deep love of, indeed longing for, Valinor. As a result, I chose to represent him with a unique variation of the Valinor theme.
Gentle vibraphone and celeste arpeggios support swirling strings lines that gradually gel together to form familiar lines from the Valinor theme. Finally, as Círdan stares west to the setting sun across the sea, the children’s choir whispers the Valinor theme, just as they did at the opening seconds of the entire series.
The children’s choir offers the same lyrics, further connecting Círdan’s longing to the series’ opening scenes.
Quenya:
Mélamar, Eldamar,
kena kala messen
English:
Home, Elven home,
see the light in us
Swayed by Elrond’s resolve that any ring forged with Sauron’s influence should not be used, no matter the temptation, Círdan volunteers to sail the rings out to sea and drop them into an underwater ravine. Círdan’s scenes on his sailboat are underscored with increasingly urgent string gestures swirling in the lower register, building intensity higher and higher.
Visually, these scenes show Círdan sitting calmly in a swaying little sail boat. However, musically, I’ve scored them like operatic action scenes, implying that the destiny of Middle-earth lies in Círdan’s hands! The symphonic tension reaches a fever pitch at the moment before a gust of wind knocks the pouch containing the Elven rings out of his hand moments before he was to throw it overboard.
Círdan succumbs to curiosity and opens the pouch in his hand. Here, female singers sing sighing gestures of the Rings theme chords, whispering Círdan’s own words in his ear, in Quenya: “Ilvanië sis,” meaning “Perfection is here.” For this moment, one of my favorite orchestral solos in the season, I wrote a delicate French horn solo in its upper register, the kind of line that can only be effectively played by an accomplished player. (Unless I know I’m recording in one of the greatest cities in the world for orchestral music, such as London or Los Angeles, I would never dare to write a French horn solo like this!) In this passage, the orchestra relays to the audience what the visuals withhold: the shimmering beauty of the Rings of Power.
THE LORD OF MORDOR
After the extensive opening sequence, Sauron’s journey is picked up in the present day as he enters Mordor, in the form of Halbrand, shackled to other prisoners of the Southlands. At this point, Mordor is under Adar’s leadership, so I scored this sequence with a powerful statement of the Adar theme in blaring trombones, while his pounding percussion rhythm marches across the soundscape matching the relentless fury of his Orcs marching across the charred soil. Aztec death whistles and various bone flutes wail in the background, the signature instruments for Orcs.
The strength and purity of Adar’s musical support are undermined as Halbrand is brought before him. Hinting at the return of Sauron, eerie string harmonics echo the Sauron theme, gnawing at Adar’s confidence. For this scene, I employed a technique that I would go on to utilize throughout the season: the score makes plain for the audience the true identity and dire threat Sauron presents to unsuspecting characters. The score practically screams, “This is Sauron!” The dramatic tragedy in each of these scenes comes from the audience realizing no one can put all the pieces together and see him for who he is (until it is too late).
This concept is on display again towards the end of the episode, when Halbrand lays at Adar’s feet, vowing allegiance to “the Lord of Mordor.” Here, eerie singular harp notes pluck the notes of the Sauron theme. The melody, though not muscular in its arrangement, nevertheless suggests Sauron is in complete control.
Sauron’s manipulation scenes throughout the series are aided by the presence of an eerie synth drone, built from digitally altered voices and singing bowl. I time stretched them beyond recognition. The resultant musical miasma, a fog seeping across the soundscape, suggests to the audience that Sauron casts a spell of influence. The best example of this in “Elven Kings Under the Sky” can be heard when Sauron speaks to a chained warg and charms it into doing his bidding. This subtle, droning underbelly can be heard in nearly every Sauron scene in the second season, providing the canvas upon which I painted his thematic material.
TO THE EAST
The third primary storyline in “Elven Kings Under the Sky” involves the Stranger and Nori wandering the deserts towards Rhûn. Unsurprisingly, I scored these scenes with an emphasis on their two respective themes.
The Stranger theme appears first in a dream sequence, in which he envisions a mysterious staff floating before him. His theme returns when he tries, unsuccessfully, to use his magic to make a tree grow fruit.
The Nori theme highlights their light-hearted optimistic banter, showing that Nori is still very much her optimistic self, even in dire circumstances.
One of the most touching moments in their story this season occurs when they are roasting bugs by a fire. Here, Markella Kavenagh offers a beautiful portrayal of yearning, as Nori. Clocking Nori’s sudden pang of longing, the Stranger remarks it is understandable that a Harfoot would miss friends and family. Here, violinist Paul Cartwright marks his return to the score with a wistful fiddle performance of the Harfoot theme.
This moment at the campfire is the only time the Harfoot theme appears in season two. That this theme is absent in subsequent episodes further underlines, subliminally, the idea that Nori and her people are homeless wanderers.
The Stranger and Nori are joined by Poppy, who reminds them of “This Wandering Day.” As originally sung by the delightful Megan Richards, the lyrics to her mother’s old walking song are revealed to contain hints to navigating the strange lands on the border of Rhûn. I was delighted to see that lyrics like “beneath trees of stone,” “the light in the tower,” and “black sand for my bed” allude to actual, geographic landmarks.
For this sequence, I enjoyed quoting the melody of “This Wandering Day” with all the musicians who contributed to the Harfoot musical storytelling last season. A joyous melody from Paul Cartwright’s fiddle and Eric Rigler’s pennywhistle and uilleann pipes lilt above a jaunty bodhrán frame drum pattern from Bruce Carver. These three musicians have been a part of my musical life for the last fifteen to twenty years, having played on my scores to Battlestar Galactica, Outlander, Black Sails, God of War and many more, and I am always honored to work with them.
(The wanderers are unknowingly watched from afar by mysterious masked riders, announced by fractured statements of a new theme. I will explore this theme further in the next episode’s blog.)
THE LIGHT RETURNS
In the episode’s climactic sequence, Círdan interrupts Gil-galad’s ceremony at the tree and presents Celebrimbor’s three Rings of Power. Two rings fall to the feet of Gil-galad and Galadriel; Elrond watches in dismay as they slowly pick them up. Above an ominous synth drone, female choral singers offer the Rings theme chords. Despite the mysterious, even ominous orchestration, the Quenya lyrics offer hope, singing “Ainima oialëa kala, oia túre,” meaning “Blessed eternal light, eternal power.”
Galadriel and Gil-galad put on rings, while Círdan wears the third. Beneath the singers, orchestral strings ignite into the swirling threads of the Forging theme. Originally added to the score in the first season finale, this rippling little motivic idea is connected to the concept of making, and now using, the Rings of Power.
In a visually glorious sequence, light bursts forth once again from the tree of Lindon. I underscored this inspiring moment with the score’s first triumphant iteration of the Valinor theme. In place of the delicate tones of a children’s choir, the theme reverberates with mighty French horns, while the sudden eruption of leaves is represented with jubilant, swirling, ascending string lines. The Valinor theme here helps draw connection to the series’ first season prologue, the tragic destruction of the two trees of Valinor. As the leaves illuminate, the Valinor theme in the brass is supported by a massive text from the choir, offering a joyous response to the lament of Gil-galad’s “Golden Leaves.”
Quenya:
Lírenye súre,
súre hwestane mí olbali,
Lírenye lassi laurië,
alanter lasseli.
Sólar ambarto
English:
I sang of wind,
A wind blew in the branches
I sang of leaves of gold,
Leaves grew.
The tides of fate
The Elves are all relieved, but Elrond remains suspicious. I underscored the aftermath of this revelation with a moody rendition of the Rings theme. This enigmatic theme was initially teased throughout the first season as mysterious chords, developed throughout the finale as a full theme, and finally emerged as a song, “Where the Shadows Lie,” performed by the legendary Fiona Apple.
Henceforth, “Where the Shadows Lie” will become arguably the most important musical material for the second season, as its variations come to simultaneously represent concepts including mithril, forging, the Rings of Power, Sauron’s machinations, and Celebrimbor himself.
The presence of the Forging theme and “Where the Shadows Lie” at this crucial juncture in the narrative sends a strong signal to viewers that events from the first season’s finale will impact the story to come. As the three Elven leaders hold their Rings of Power close, the insistent ostinato of the Forging theme and the ominous chords of the Rings theme carry the audience across the cut to Celebrimbor’s new forge in Eregion.
In the episode’s coda, Halbrand enters the front gate, and Celebrimbor is faced with the decision whether or not to let him in. The episode concludes on a sweeping shot of the peaceful city of Eregion, while the orchestra and male singers snarl a menacing statement of the Sauron theme, offering the bleak Quenya text, “Ulko termare,” meaning “Evil persists.” In contrast with the serene visuals of the final shot, the music serves as a harbinger of dark days to come.
BONUS TRACK
“Elven Kings Under the Sky” was a beautiful and challenging episode to score, and yet many of its best musical moments could not make the cut for the main soundtrack album for season two. I am grateful to Amazon Music for helping me to release episode-specific albums, one for each episode, as we did last season. In addition to the primary season two album, all eight episode-specific soundtrack albums for The Rings of Power season two are also available to stream on all platforms. (With season one and two, I have released now a total of eighteen soundtrack albums for The Rings of Power—absolute madness!)
This time, I was inspired to do something a little different, and I threw in some bonus tracks!
For the soundtrack album for this episode, I included the bonus track “The Rings of Power – Season One Overture,” the fanfare I composed for the San Diego Comic-Con orchestral performance in Hall H in 2022. The track features the incredible Sandy Cameron on violin, whose virtuosic sound fans might recognize from her dexterous performance of “Scherzo for Violins and Swords.” I have seen many fan requests for this track over the last two years, and truly, your enthusiastic comments inspired me to release this music.
From the bottom of my heart, I am grateful to all of you for listening to my music, watching the show, reading my blogs, and for your positivity online. I am excited for you all to experience where the second season of The Lord of the Rings: The Rings of Power goes from here.
—Bear
