15

The King Under the Mountain

Most people today have very little to do with kings and queens. With the exception of Great Britain and a few isolated monarchies, much of the world has been split into democracies and dictatorships. This is a relatively new phenomenon: For many prior thousands of years, groups of people both large and small were governed by successive generations of royal families.

That also is true of almost all the people recorded in the Bible, whether their rulers had the title of King or Pharaoh or Caesar. Therefore, maintaining an awareness of kingdoms and their leaders is necessary for a proper understanding of the Scriptures—as it is of Middle-earth.

Bloodlines

I want to say upfront that J. R. R. Tolkien was neither dismissive of nor antagonistic toward what we would think of as the “common man.” Tolkien was a commoner himself, not being part of any royal family.

Nor did Tolkien believe ordinary people were incapable of leadership or of shaping the events of history. He believed quite the opposite, in fact, as is evident in Bilbo’s accomplishments and in how Tolkien’s stories regularly feature the weak shaming the strong (1 Corinthians 1:27–29).

However, it is clear from his books, including The Hobbit, that he did place a special emphasis on royalty. The members of his royal families possess an extra measure of dignity, esteem, and skill in a variety of abilities. Kings, queens, and their descendants are often more courageous in combat, more eloquent of speech, more filled with wisdom, and so on.

For instance, in The Lord of the Rings, Aragorn, lost heir of the kings of Númenor, is among the greatest warriors of his time and a gifted healer. He even has the strength of mind to strive with Sauron using the Palantír. Éowyn, daughter of Théoden, king of Rohan, is a fierce warrior. Boromir and Faramir, the sons of Denethor, Steward of Gondor, also are descendants of the Númenórian kings. The brothers are skilled fighters and eloquent speakers.

We should not be surprised by the inherent value Tolkien placed on men and women of noble birth. After all, he was a citizen of Great Britain, throughout his life a subject of monarchs. Further, he was a member of the British army during the reign of King George V.

Again, emphasis on royal lineage is also prevalent in Scripture. David and Solomon are the best-known examples, but frequently throughout the Old Testament, God worked directly through the royal families of Israel and Judah.

And the New Testament makes it clear that the ancient bloodlines of God’s people pointed to the world’s true Sovereign:

God, the blessed and only Ruler, the King of kings and Lord of lords, who alone is immortal and who lives in unapproachable light, whom no one has seen or can see. To him be honor and might forever. Amen.

1 Timothy 6:15–16

Bloodlines in The Hobbit

There are two reasons I want to highlight Tolkien’s elevated estimation of kings, queens, and their progeny.

The first reason is that the adventures within The Hobbit reflect this perspective by emphasizing several characters with royal bloodlines.

Thorin is a descendant of Durin, one of the earliest fathers of the dwarves and the rightful King under the Mountain. The Lord of the Eagles plays a central role in rescuing the company from certain doom in the Misty Mountains and also saves the day by leading the eagles into the Battle of Five Armies. Thranduil, king of the wood elves, indirectly rescues the company from starvation in Mirkwood and shows great kindness to the people of Esgaroth after their town is destroyed by Smaug. As a descendant of Girion, Bard the dragon-slayer is rightful heir of the kingdom of Dale next to the Lonely Mountain. Even most of the action involving the goblins revolves around royalty (such as it is) with the Great Goblin and Bolg.

Again, by no means are these the only characters of note within The Hobbit. But it’s clear that Tolkien wants Middle-earth’s upper-crust members present and active when major events are taking place.

The second (and more important) reason is to take a deeper look at the story’s “primary royal”: Thorin Oakenshield, King under the Mountain.

A FALLEN HERO

When we first meet Thorin way back at the beginning, he is described as “an enormously important dwarf.”[1] The other dwarves all submit to his leadership, and even Gandalf treats him with a notable measure of respect.

There are times where it really seems he has earned such treatment.

Sure, at certain moments Thorin behaves pompously, even haughtily. But other times the veil is peeled away and we glimpse something deeper and more powerful within the heart and spirit of the king—something noble.

Thorin’s bravery against the trolls is a good example. After Bilbo’s failure as a burglar (and as a hero), Thorin singlehandedly takes on three trolls in an effort to rescue his people. We also catch the foretaste of a quiet dignity during Thorin’s interrogation by the king of the wood elves in Mirkwood. And when he reveals himself to the people of Lake-town during the Master’s feast, he commands attention and obedience through sheer force of will—even while he’s still dripping and bedraggled from his barrel-ride out of Mirkwood.

All of these factors and happenings help us see that Thorin Oakenshield has the potential to be a strong and wise king for his people.

Sadly, this potential is never realized. And in the end, all those hints of something noble in him only heighten the tragedy of his corruption and fall.

The seeds of that corruption were planted in chapter 13, when the dwarves first beheld the awesome treasure. But they come to flower in chapter 15. More accurately, Thorin’s greed comes into full bloom and causes him to make decisions that are both foolish and destructive.

TWO SYMPTOMS OF GREED

Two symptoms best reveal Thorin’s growing greed and corruption. The first is a continuation of the madness that overcame the dwarves in chapter 13.

Remember that when the dwarves first encountered the treasure, they were ignorant of Smaug’s fate. They didn’t know he had been killed, and they expected him to come swooping back under the mountain at any moment. Even so, their lust caused them to linger a long while in the main hall, stuffing their pockets and even singing songs in their mirth.

It took Bilbo’s stern words to help Thorin come to his senses and order a retreat. But their thoughtlessness is repeated on a larger scale when the dwarves learn of Smaug’s destruction—and of the armies currently on the march toward the Lonely Mountain.

Incredibly, Thorin decides to make a stand and fight. He doesn’t seem to care that only a dozen dwarves (plus Mr. Baggins) are in the mountain with him. His plan is for a company of fourteen to withstand the might of two armies and to come out victorious.

His foolishness is intensified when Bard arrives and makes known his requests. He proposes that Thorin relinquish a twelfth-part of the treasure to cover what Smaug stole from Dale during his original attack on the mountain. Bard also asks—not demands—that the dwarves make a contribution to the people of Esgaroth who lost everything in the carnage of Smaug’s last assault.

The proposal is more than fair; it would allow the dwarves to retain the vast majority of the treasure. More, it would allow them to retain their lives, which should have been tempting, besieged as they were on all sides.

Incredibly, Thorin refuses. In avaricious insanity he will risk his life—and those of his companions—to keep his fingers on every last jewel and coin.

Once again, Thorin and the dwarves serve as a vivid example of the many biblical warnings against the desire for wealth:

Those who want to get rich fall into temptation and a trap and into many foolish and harmful desires that plunge people into ruin and destruction. For the love of money is a root of all kinds of evil. Some people, eager for money, have wandered from the faith and pierced themselves with many griefs.

1 Timothy 6:9–10

This attitude points to the second symptom of Thorin’s greed. Namely, he and the other dwarves begin to resemble Smaug the dragon.

Think about it. For decades, Smaug brooded over the treasure in his lair under the Lonely Mountain. He was unable to spend it or use it in any way, but he hoarded it. He obsessed over every piece of gold and reacted in violent rage whenever anyone deigned to threaten what he claimed as his own.

Now think about Thorin. He and the dwarves are surrounded by two armies and so have no means of using the treasure. And yet they decide to stockpile it all for themselves. They spend their time admiring and cataloguing every facet of their wealth. And when Bard’s messengers formally request a portion, Thorin reacts in furious rage, firing an arrow into an envoy’s shield.

Far from resembling the noble king he was meant to be, Thorin takes on the traits of the very monster that long had tormented him and his people.

In this, he becomes the epitome of greed’s corrupting power:

When tempted, no one should say, “God is tempting me.” God cannot be tempted by evil, nor does he tempt anyone; but each person is tempted when they are dragged away by their own evil desire and enticed. Then, after desire has conceived, it gives birth to sin; and sin, when it is full-grown, gives birth to death.

James 1:13–15

The treasure was Thorin’s temptation. He had pondered it for so long; he wanted it desperately. And his desire for wealth allows him to be dragged away from his life’s purpose—to be his people’s wise and noble leader. Greed leads Thorin to all kinds of sins that, in the end, will give birth to his death.

AS THE KING GOES . . .

The regrettable reality of the situation is that Thorin’s actions do not affect Thorin alone. Rather, as the King under the mountain becomes more and more degraded and despoiled, the same happens to his subjects.

After spurning Bard’s herald by firing an arrow into his shield, he becomes so grim that the other dwarves dare not question him—he won’t listen even to those who had risked their lives with him and for him on the long journey.

Even more surprising is that the other dwarves concur. Only Fili, Kili, and fat Bombur seem to understand that anything is wrong. The others have followed their king in his lust for the treasure, and thus they share in his corruption, stubbornness, violence, and uncertain future.

In this way, Tolkien crafted Thorin and his subjects so as to parallel the nations and kings of the Old Testament.

The great wisdom of Solomon, Israel’s last great ruler, helped expand the kingdom’s borders, wealth, and power to its pinnacle. Near the beginning of his reign, God gave him the following promises and warnings:

If you walk before me faithfully with integrity of heart and uprightness, as David your father did, and do all I command and observe my decrees and laws, I will establish your royal throne over Israel forever, as I promised David your father when I said, “You shall never fail to have a successor on the throne of Israel.”

But if you or your descendants turn away from me and do not observe the commands and decrees I have given you and go off to serve other gods and worship them, then I will cut off Israel from the land I have given them and will reject this temple I have consecrated for my Name. Israel will then become a byword and an object of ridicule among all peoples.

1 Kings 9:4–7

Note how the actions of Solomon and his descendants connect to the entire nation. If he or his descendants drifted into sin and rebellion, then Israel would be cut off from the land and from God’s favor—all God’s people would experience negative consequences of the kings’ transgressions.

Tragically, that’s how things turned out, historically. After Solomon’s death, the kingdom was split into two nations: Israel and Judah. And of the thirty-nine kings who ruled over them, only eight were righteous. The rest worshiped false gods—and led the Israelites into the same evil.

As a result, both were conquered—Israel by Assyria, Judah by Babylon—and most of the people in both nations were taken captive into foreign lands.

Thorin’s guidance likewise results in high cost to himself and his people.

More Leadership Lessons From Middle-Earth

Thorin’s actions in chapter 15 are a far cry from noble leadership, yet as with the Master of Esgaroth, we can glean valuable lessons from negative examples.

Specifically, we can explore two aspects of Tolkien’s views on good leadership in light of Thorin’s attitudes and actions.

TRUE LEADERS TAKE WISE COUNSEL

Proverbs 15:22 says, “Plans fail for lack of counsel, but with many advisers they succeed.” This principle is played out again and again in the lives of the Old Testament kings.

One reason David was a great king was his willingness to surround considered advice from “outsiders,” such as Nathan the prophet.

Thorin is not such a leader. When he hears of Smaug’s ruin from Roäc—the leader of the great ravens who still live near the Lonely Mountain and can speak to other races—he (like the other dwarves) is overjoyed by the news.

But then Roäc tells him about the events that followed the dragon’s death, including the march of the armies from Esgaroth and Mirkwood. Roäc concludes by offering three pieces of advice: He (1) reminds Thorin that thirteen is a small remnant of Durin’s folk with which to wage a war; (2) encourages Thorin to trust Bard, who killed Smaug, rather than the Master of Lake-town; and (3) advises Thorin to take advantage of the chance to make peace among dwarves, men, and elves—even if it requires much gold.

This excellent advice is filled with commonsense guidance and inside information. However, Thorin refuses to listen, instead wanting messengers sent to nearby settlements of dwarves that might come to aid him in his war.

This entire conversation is juxtaposed with the earlier interaction between Bard and the thrush. Bard listened to wise counsel and changed his actions accordingly—thereby effecting Smaug’s downfall.

TRUE LEADERS SHOW COMPASSION

King David himself is proof that no leader is perfect. All make mistakes. But the best ones acknowledge missteps and seek to rectify them. More, they understand that everyone errs, and so they learn to demonstrate compassion.

Because David was aware of his own faults, he was able to show mercy to those who wronged him—even, for instance, when his own son (Absalom) attempted to wrestle away his throne.

Also, most significantly, David had experienced compassion from God:

The Lord is compassionate and gracious,

slow to anger, abounding in love.

He will not always accuse,

nor will he harbor his anger forever;

he does not treat us as our sins deserve

or repay us according to our iniquities.

For as high as the heavens are above the earth,

so great is his love for those who fear him;

as far as the east is from the west,

so far has he removed our transgressions from us.

Psalm 103:8–12

We’ve already highlighted how Bard demonstrated compassion on his people after the destruction of Esgaroth. Thranduil, king of the wood elves, shows even greater compassion by changing his course away from the Lonely Mountain and instead stopping to provide comfort and support to Lake-town.

Demonstrating true compassion, both leaders are blessed because of it.

Thorin, on the other hand, demonstrates no compassion whatsoever. He even mocks Bard for mentioning the people of the Lake being in dire need—the same people who cared for Bilbo and the dwarves after their harrowing journey out of Mirkwood. Thorin’s coldness evokes Proverbs 11:24–26 when he goes so far as to say that he has no responsibility to help others just because the same monster that harmed him also happened to harm them:

One person gives freely, yet gains even more;

another withholds unduly, but comes to poverty.

A generous person will prosper;

whoever refreshes others will be refreshed.

People curse the one who hoards grain,

but they pray God’s blessing on the one who is willing to sell.

Showing cruelty instead of compassion, Thorin reveals yet another flaw in his role as a leader—a flaw he and his people will pay for in days to come.