PRIVATE THORIN, SON OF THRÁIN, SON OF THRÓR, BEARING THE TITLE “ OAKENSHIELD ” , INTRODUCED IN J.R.R. TOLKIEN’S THE HOBBIT AND BROUGHT TO THE SCREEN BY PETER JACKSON, AS PORTRAYED BY RICHARD ARMITAGE. MOVIES-BASED WITH PARTS AND INFLUENCE TAKEN FROM TOLKIEN’S THE HOBBIT BOOK AND LEGENDARIUM SERIES. JOURNEYED 2020, BACK HOME 2023. SLIDES. SPOTIFY.
* A STUDY IN ... he who dares, the avarice of the raven, searching for the true home, made of stone, that which is to be valued above gold, fighting ‘til death’s final breath, wintery be the crown but not its metal, heart’s tremendous loyalty, borne of loss, true king upon his crumbled throne, pride’s tall mountain and its tumble, and the lonely peak.
𝑰𝑵 𝑬𝑽𝑬𝑹𝒀 𝑶𝑹𝑬 𝑶𝑭 𝑮𝑶𝑳𝑫 , 𝑴𝑨𝑫𝑬 𝑶𝑭 𝑯𝑼𝑵𝑮𝑬𝑹 & 𝑺𝑷𝑳𝑬𝑵𝑫𝑶𝑹 , his own endless prideful greed bled into its beholder . not only becoming a plague of the mind , but a pox upon one’s very spirit . something that did not leave with words , nor will , nor rationale . in some , it even spreads like a curse from the father , to the son , and so on it would turn great men into savage shells of their once - glory . they now called it gold - sickness , and in his absence it had become even more venomous in his lieutenant’s hands . that much was evident , especially in him , son of Thror .
His own influences upon the inflicted , beyond touching them his own obsessive natures to take and claim had grown limited . more and more exhausting and lackluster with each attempt to trickle the fine extensions of his power beyond the Door of Night to lull them into damnation . still , he was far from powerless to act . ❝ 𝙸𝚃 𝙸𝚂 𝙱𝙴𝙰𝚄𝚃𝙸𝙵𝚄𝙻 , 𝙸𝚂 𝙸𝚃 𝙽𝙾𝚃 ? ❞ with a formless voice more reminiscent of embers & frost than of man , he spoke , the sound hard to locate . one would not easily suspect that gold might have a secret voice . fortunately , it did not , but its creator always did .
❝ 𝙰𝙽𝙳 𝙸𝚃 𝙸𝚂 𝙰𝙻𝙻 𝚁𝙸𝙶𝙷𝚃𝙵𝚄𝙻𝙻𝚈 𝚈𝙾𝚄𝚁𝚂 , 𝚃𝙷𝙾𝚁𝙸𝙽 , 𝚂𝙾𝙽 𝙾𝙵 𝚃𝙷𝚁𝙰𝙸𝙽 . 𝚈𝙾𝚄𝚁𝚂 𝚃𝙾 𝚁𝙴𝙰𝙿 , 𝚈𝙾𝚄𝚁𝚂 𝚃𝙾 𝚂𝙾𝚆 . ❞ a thrill of mirth panged within the core of his distant , incorporeal being . it would bring him great joy and amusement to watch the son fall , just as his father’s before him . more than that , it would further prove to his divine brethren that it mattered not how far , or deep they imprisoned him . his will , his presence was already too woven into Arda to ever fully expunge . not unless they should choose to defy their cowardice and ambivalence in favor of purging Arda and its inhabitants with it .
it is beautiful, is it not? o, it is. gold as vast as the night sky, and each shimmer upon the edge of some coin or trinket glimmering in the torch-light a star. how it glazes his sight! (is this what durin saw, peering into mirrormere? stars, stars made of gold pieces, beckoning him into the depths, tumbling in showers atop his head ...) the dwarf’s breaths seemed to echo in his ears, mingling with the distant clink of the others stepping across the gilded mounds. inhale, out, hissing alike a fell wind, and thorin swayed where he stood, gaze staring down from the crumbled balcony overseeing the treasure room. more beautiful ... than mahal’s spark itself. yes. yes ...
“ yes, ” heir of riches told gasped to himself, to a speaker who seems alike the undertone of his own inner thinking, heard yet out of hearing, sounding yet without presence. eyes squeezed shut, gray-stranded head canting forward, beard touching to the finery of his chest. the vision of gold still swam behind his lids, a sea grander than water. i don’t need water, is the dazed thought, no longer, no longer — only the gold. rightfully yours, the speaker promises in some unseen chamber. thorin nodded once, lids lifting sluggishly as he gazed out with an abrupt grimness that curls his upper lip. “ my gold. my father’s, my grandfather’s. my right of birth. ” the baritone is marred by a draconic lilt.
hands grip the battered railing, a tremble to his arms. “ it is mine, and yet many seek to steal it from me, ” he spat, voice hoarsely tinged. a hissing crept onto the very edges of his syllables (the tink of slipping coins and goblets has his face turn possessively towards one of the piles below, fingers pressing into granite ‘til they ached). “ they will try to take it from me, i know it — that is what they seek, these encircling vultures, all of them —!” ere his words reverberate he hushes with throbbing unease, shoulders pinching pensively upwards near his ears. “ who can i trust? my kin? the burglar ...”
discomfort clung to him alike a shroud, fluttering out of sight despite the corners tucked over his shoulders, ever-draping. this elvish house in its spring-clad finery and fragments of ages long gone felt in tandem tranquil yet melancholy, the pair of feelings alike two birds perched upon the dwarf’s breast, talon-deep. this was a pretty dwelling, there was no denying it, despite how he wished to denounce it as no more than some trickery that lulled him into complacency. more lies. as fanciful as their word, came the panged thought, his shoulders bunching, and i will not give into it.
the steps of his boots on the smooth stone floors seemed over-loud; naught but the branches of trees groaning and the distantly emphatic shouting of the company could he hear. he puffed out of a soft breath through his nose. i have to wonder, he mused to himself, where they find their joviality. the quest was heavy on his mind, making bearded chin falter towards his chest. this was but a brief stop where they could not tarry long. thorin did not want to. the true end still lay ahead. sight’s corners tightened as he stared down without truly seeing. i cannot rest here — can’t find it. wind crept through the strands of his hair, cool, but he turned his wearied face from it and strode into a room apart from the hall.
he had been told many great books were kept in this place, and, tipping his head backwards, he gazed half-lidded up the tall shelves that lined the walls of the room as jewels embedded in rock. there’s a squint to his eyes, lining the corners, as he glanced with apprehensive scrutiny through the titles, arms drawing behind so that a wrist could be grasped at the back of his waist atop velvet and belt. some were too high for him to discern ... but, as brows furrowed and a pebble seemed to catch in his throat, what he sought seemed hopeless. fingers clenched. of course. nothing of it is here. nothing. “ lulkh, ” he scoffed sharply to himself, louder than a murmur, “ to think any of our texts would be saved here. ” nay, they were lost to the bowels of a dragon, tales of his past, and thorin’s broad shoulders sunk slightly, twisting sideward.
“ —! ” king-of-nothing is caught off-guard at the presence of an elf he had not marked before, and his entire posture stiffened, breath inhaled shortly. he did not like that, too akin to being snuck up on. so much for this place being empty. keeping to some sort of dignity, he stood taller, chin at a regal tilt. he must have heard me. tone even, he remarked, “ are you the keeper of these books? ”
however much malice was trapped in the faint glint of unseen eyes, the helm which constrained the dark and cold of his very being hid it ⸻ crownlike it seemed atop his noble head, its hard, steel spikes jutting skywards like angry thorns when the black rider raised his chin to better look at oakenshield ( one king to another ) who lay safe and sound in his high towers and stone walls; and unconcerned with outside troubles and rings of power. if the witch-king missed the feel of his own ring on his hand, he showed it not : the chief of the nine rings, starlike and glittering like something cold and distant, remained safe with He who made it. what a pity that the seven could not be recovered so easily as the nine.
what a pity indeed that the filth that stained middle-earth, those who still fought against the rightful rule of tar-mairon the great / the king of this world, was yet allowed to walk freely. still … there remained those few who could be reasoned with in time. “ aye, your majesty, you did; and my lord has held to His end of the bargain and provided you with time aplenty which would not have been afforded to you by another — but time waits for no man, and we all are gifted with very little of it. ”
his steed made not a sound, nor did anything else surrounding the horse and her master ⸻ how difficult it was to imagine a songbird singing somewhere in the distance, and the sound of a clear river, and the dutiful strike of a hammer against unshaped iron, and the gentle murmurs and mirthful chatters of folk : it all was so far away, unreachable, and so forgettable in the heavy silence brought by a creature who should not still torment the living / this twisted thing that used to be a man. and though he did not breathe, the leader of the nazgûl felt air escape the cruel smile upon his hidden face in faint amusement. “ you are not being rushed, thorin oakenshield ⸻ let your head not be weighed under that thought as it is by your crown. my lord seeks a thing that was unjustly stolen from Him so long ago : one of the lesser rings, an unadorned band of gold that was dear to Him in ages past. but let no mouth say that His gratitude and generosity is not great! He offers rewards for its return. ” and so the helmed head turned to look left, right, and back up at the mithril-haired king so high up above him and out of reach. “ you received my last rider with not even half the hospitality that a peaceful emissary is owed, o king. will you not speak with me eye to eye? ”
hearken, o shield of the east! peak atop the horizon which steadfast stands against the encroaching shadows of the setting light. he who holds the shield, and kept behind that shield, a sword, silver-lit and gilded edge. doth he topple before dread embodied? crack into unruly pieces strewn across this darkening land? he thinks not. this black-clad foe would see me break. his mouth pursed thinly. dare he call it thusly? admit to foes at all? that which shrouds the fringes, which seeps like the void through the crags and crannies of nargûn. crowned head held high alike a full moon, thorin’s white-haired chin jutted outward slightly with indignance wrought blade-sharp upon his countenance. “ i do not know how men spend their hours, ” is begun in obdurate tone, posture pulling tall with pride’s height, “ but dwarves do not give frivolously. ” that last comes curtly.
very little indeed. his hand clenched atop his sword’s hilt with color-less knuckles. a short glance is given over a furred shoulder, to the paired guards stood behind him, and past them, those still at the mountain’s gate. too little. curse these messengers, his thought continued, perturbed despite himself, battle-marred brows drawing in to pinch. though hard be thorin’s features, they betray uneasiness lining the set of his lips, deepening their suspicion. strong it is, the suspiciousness of dwarves and dwarf-rulers in their veins! yet greater is their loyalty, and bilbo’s face held as a last vision in his mind’s eye. something constricts, like hot metal pressed, inside him, locking his jaw. lips then quirk a tad. how fate has turned that we are asked to thieve a thief. it makes his stomach turn.
unbidden, memory of his grandfather’s ring glitters in his gaze as it looked once more to the rider. breathlessness makes his exhale lack a steadiness, slowly blinking. the sickness — overcome, but not conquered (it follows him like a shadow ‘til the end of his days, clinging to the corners of himself and never banished) — calls, and gold it promises as a voiceless echo in the caverns of his head, gold! gold ... thorin shut his eyes firmly, squeezing lashes to the crests of his cheeks, before pushing them open swiftly.
“ so you say. ” low yet clearly doth he speak, though the deep of it hints at distrust, no matter its levelness. the sudden cold seemed to curl its way under his layers and chill his very skin. behind him, he can hear the clink of armor and the murmur of the guards. the pitch of the guise before him, indiscernible, swathed of metal-dark, quickened the hammer-beat of his olden heart. silence seemed to reign save for its rhythm in his ears. resolutely he remains taut despite his guards’ shuffling. i will not yield before my own gate —! “ erebor has heard your lord’s request. ” eyes, though not far-seeing, stared with veiled frustration at the rider’s head. what does it hide? “ it is one that i listen to neither lightly nor with a hurried choice. ” it dawns on him then ... someone must warn master baggins. that, and this ill voice must somehow be satisfied. a purposeful stride forward takes him to the end the bridge, nearer, without bidding the guards to follow. ah, dwalin will be cross. one scarred brow lifted. “ i stand before you. seldom do we meet with those who are not our allies. what say you that would impress this need greater than what has already been said? these ... rewards seem a high promise to offer. ”
“ — kíli, ” deep tone errs on exasperation as deathless struck to his sister-son’s distracted sword, edges met. his heavy boot slid forward upon the ground as he leant into the crossed metal with a grunt, heel stomped. this was supposed to be practice. the dwarf’s mouth pinched. if one can call such an effort that. (crown-less yet his head bears unseen its fate; can he teach as well as lead? he, father-less, in an unlit dark. he must be their silver spark.) with a clang and a swift swing upwards, deathless comes short of striking through kíli’s shoulder. one of thorin’s fine-haired brows lifted. the creased lines at the corners of his sight are unimpressed.
“ adrub. ... you are not paying close enough attention. ” the sword tapped once to the other’s shoulder as the older dwarf went on with a brusque exhale. always with his ears closed, i swear it, since he was a pebble ... “ you bring your arms too high — i told you this yesterday. should i trade your sword for dwalin’s training stick until you listen? ” the weapon withdraws, point brought downwards to the ground. stout fingers clenched uncertainly around its hilt. dís had spoken to him earlier, for this was not the first time. tunic-draped shoulders drew somewhat taut. how did he approach this? i must, somehow. he is so much like him. a throb kept within him, dimming his light for a moment. he sighs it out unheard, alike wind keeping back fog’s rolling murkiness. quiet capped the air ‘tween them briefly before, gaze gentling a tad, “ balin told your mother you did not remember his lessons, either. what is it, kíli? ”
THE ARKENSTONE, ONE OF THE SILMARILS; A SHORT ESSAY.
what we wanted was to say that even with all the wealth of erebor, thorin could not rest until he had the arkenstone. this one peerless jewel that, in thorin’s estimation, bestowed kingship upon its possessor. without it he was not whole. he had invested so much meaning in the arkenstone that without it he felt his identity and legitimacy were incomplete. in the end, as impressive and otherworldly as it was, the stone was just a material object, a bauble, a trinket. its power was attributed and not innate. though he does not understand it, thorin has given that power to the stone and trapped himself. weta’s the hobbit chronicles, PHILIPPA BOYENS’ COMMENTARY.
the story already had the ring and the gold, so another talisman may have been one too many, but the right to rule, it being the king’s jewel, is where the power of the arkenstone lay. [...] ultimately, the arkenstone was just a gem and the power of loyalty was beyond a talisman. weta’s the hobbit chronicles, RICHARD ARMITAGE’S COMMENTARY.
like the crystal of diamonds it appeared, and yet was more strong than adamant, so that no violence could mar it or break it within the kingdom of the arda. [...] and the inner fire of the silmarils fëanor made of the blended light of the trees of the valinor, which lives in them yet, though the trees have long withered and shine no more. therefore even in the darkness of the deepest treasury the silmarils of their own radiance shown like the stars of the varda; and yet, as they were indeed living things, they rejoined in light and received it and gave it back in hues more marvelous than before. [...] for fëanor began to love the silmarils with a greedy love, and grudged the sight of them to all save to his father and his seven sons [...] the silmarillion, OF THE SILMARILS AND THE UNREST OF THE NOLDOR.
but the jewel burned in the hand of maedhros in pain unbearable; and he perceived it to be as eönwë had said, and that his right thereto had become void, and that the oath was in vain. and being in anguish and despair he cast himself into a gaping chasm of fire, and so ended; and the silmaril that he bore was taken into the bosom of the earth. the silmarillion, OF THE VOYAGE OF EÄRENDIL.
“ the arkenstone! the arkenstone! ” murmured thorin in the dark, half dreaming with his chin upon his knees. “ it was like a globe with a thousand facets; it shone like silver in the firelight, like water in the sun, like snow under the stairs, like rain upon the moon! ” the hobbit, CHAPTER TWELVE.
it was the arkenstone, the heart of the mountain. so bilbo guessed from thorin’s description; but indeed there could not be two such gems, even in so marvelous a hoard, even in all the world. [...] now as he came near, it was tinged with a flickering sparkle of many colors at the surface, reflected and splintered from the wavering light of his torch. the great jewel shone before his feet of its own inner light, and yet, cut and fashioned by the dwarves, who had dug it from the heart of the mountain long ago, it took all light that fell upon it and changed it into ten thousand sparks of white radiance shot with glints of the rainbow. the hobbit, CHAPTER THIRTEEN.
the elvenking himself, whose eyes were used to things of wonder and beauty, stood up in amazement. even bard gazed marveling at it in silence. it was as if the globe had been filled with moonlight and hung before them in a net woven of the glint of frosty stars. the hobbit, CHAPTER SIXTEEN.
they buried thorin deep beneath the mountain, and bard laid the arkenstone upon his breast. “ there let it lie ‘til the mountain falls! ” he said. “ may it bring good fortune to all his folk that dwell here after! ” the hobbit, CHAPTER EIGHTEEN.
the arkenstone, the heart of the lonely mountain named erebor by the dwarves, and found deep beneath its roots, was unearthed during the reign of king thrór and declared to be a divine show of his right to rule. thus the jewel was established to be a crowner of kings¹, bestowing as much power as the descent of durin, for the dwarves believed it to be a gift of mahal, put forth in the mountain as a homage to their race. in their creator’s honor did they mount it above the throne of thrór, where it glittered for all who sought audience with the king of dwarves to behold². inscriptions depicting the arkenstone were carved all throughout the mountain halls³ and upon great tapestries that hung in the places of history and remembrance. so it remained ‘til the coming of the dragon, smaug, who claimed the mountain and all of its treasure, devouring the dwarves within it. in this manner the arkenstone was lost, for thrór took it from his throne and carried it with him to the treasury, where the dragon was reveling in its hoard and causing great flying mounds of gold and gems with its wings. thrór fell and the arkenstone fell with him, out of his grasp and into the swell of coins that mounted the steps before him. as it was to be, the arkenstone remained in smaug’s piles ‘til the company of thorin, son of thráin, son of thrór, descended upon the mountain, and with the help of the contracted burglar and hobbit, bilbo baggins, procured the arkenstone from the dragon, a creature later slain by one of the race of men. the arkenstone exchanged hands ‘til, at the death of thorin, it was placed upon his breast by bard, dragon-slayer, in a display of good will to the dwarves who were now to be the allies of the men of dale henceforth under the reign of king dáin, son of náin, son of grór, and king bard, descendant of girion. no longer would the arkenstone crown a dwarf on the throne, for it was decided, in honor of his great sacrifice and the mourning of the cost of his quest, that the jewel would be buried with thorin, so that he would be crowned forevermore.
the arkenstone, though called by the dwarves to be the heart of the mountain, may never have been so, and instead be a silmaril forged by fëanor and lost to the depths of the earth with the undoing of maedhros, son of fëanor, who flung himself into a gaping chasm.
the choice of arkenstone is significant, since in other writings tolkien was making at the same time he was using a variant of the same name as a term for the silmarils themselves, forging a link between the jewels of fëanor and the arkenstone of [thrór] in the legendarium [...] the idea that the arkenstone could be a silmaril, or was at least somehow linked to the silmarils in tolkien’s mind, has additional support from the philosophical roots of the word. [...] like the silmarils in the main branch of the legendarium, and unlike the one ring in the sequel, the arkenstone inspires greed but is not itself malicious in any way [...] THE HISTORY OF THE HOBBIT.
though many will point to the finality of one statement that the silmarils could not be found again unless the world was broken and re-made anew:
tolkien had in fact at that point changed his mind four times in the previous fifteen years about the holy jewels’ fate, all in a series of unpublished works that remained in flux and were each to be replaced by a new version of the story [...] it is thus more than possible that tolkien was playing in the hobbit with the idea of having one of fëanor’s wondrous jewels re-appear, no doubt the one that had been thrown into a fiery chasm, and lost deep within the earth — which is, after all, exactly where the dwarves find the arkenstone, buried at the roots of an extinct volcano. THE HISTORY OF THE HOBBIT.
the silmarils may inspire greed, but they merely reflect the heart of the one who possesses them, and are no source of evil, nor do they hold magical sway beyond the manner with which all covet them for their great beauty⁴. the silmaril named the “ arkenstone ” by the dwarves did not encourage madness in either thrór nor thorin⁵. while they both desired the jewel greatly, it was because of the power that they themselves attributed to it, and not anything that the arkenstone itself was able to exact. the light of the valinor, which the arkenstone encases, is a good and beauteous light, and it is only the imperfect heart that all carry and that drives those who see the silmarils to commit treacherous deeds for them which taints the jewels⁶. in the end, it was the corruptions of the dwarf ring given to the line of durin long ago that wholly cursed them with a dark greed and a darker madness. as said by balin, the arkenstone would not have stayed thorin’s madness, nor prevented it, but exacerbated it by its presence.
FOOTNOTES:
1 “ that stone crowns all. it’s the summit of this great wealth, bestowing power upon he who bears it. would it stay his madness? no, laddie. i fear it would make him worse. perhaps it is best it remains lost. ” THE HOBBIT TRILOGY FILMS.
2 fëanor, having been supposedly taught by aulë (mahal), and with the dwarves being the creation of aulë, leads to the belief that they would be able to facet the otherwise impervious silmaril, whilst any other race would not be able to do so, no matter any secrets learnt. however, this interpretation will adhere to the film portrayal of the arkenstone, which has it smooth and further supports the theory.
3 one such inscription can be seen in the film, read as: herein lies the seventh kingdom of durin’s folk. may the heart of the mountain unite all dwarves in defense of this home.
4 in the film, smaug tells bilbo that the arkenstone shall corrupt thorin’s heart and thus destroy him and drive him mad. the dragon was, of course, lying, attempting to sway the loyalties of bilbo’s heart, as it had been trying to for most of the conversation, whether that scheme was lying about the arkenstone’s power, or that the dwarves valued bilbo so little. in truth, as smaug’s powers of cleverness knew, thorin would be the one to drive himself mad over the stone, and not the stone itself.
5 nor did the arkenstone inspire any such madness or lust within bilbo baggins, who was in possession of the jewel for quite some time, and did not feel any such inclinations past how heavy it seemed to be in his hold:
his small hand would not close about it, for it was a large and heavy gem; but he lifted it, shut his eyes, and put it in his deepest pocket. the hobbit, CHAPTER THIRTEEN.
6 it is true that those with evil intent (forgoing the idea that mortals cannot touch the silmarils, which shall not be considered for this, as it does not fit no matter how holy they may be, and appears to be an inconsistent particular) cannot touch the silmarils lest they be burned. one must consider that bilbo baggins had no evil intent, and thus was able to carry the stone. neither did bard, who also held onto the stone for a period of time. evil intent, however, is a manner of perception; was thrór truly being evil by his greed, or disagreeing on the payment of goods for the elves, should he believe himself in the right? was thorin, up to a certain point in the delirium of the dragon-sickness, behaving evilly as he protected the mountain and what lay inside of it against the perceived threats? disregarding the fact that we, as the readers and viewers, know these to be bad choices, these characters believed in their hearts, however swayed, that they were justified. ‘til later deeds, thorin may have been able to hold the arkenstone, as thrór had, but his treatment of bilbo baggins after the hobbit’s betrayal would have rendered him unable to touch the arkenstone, for that was an ill-committed deed and a black mark upon the feelings they shared for one another. should thorin have lived, he would still not have been able to touch the arkenstone until he had made amends with bilbo and otherwise honored his word. it is possible that he may have never been able to ever touch the arkenstone at all.
seven rings [sauron] gave to the dwarves [...] the dwarves indeed proved tough and hard to tame; they ill endure the domination of others, and the thoughts of their hearts are hard to fathom, nor can they be turned to the shadows. they used their rings for only the getting of wealth; but wrath and an overmastering greed of gold were kindled in their hearts [...] the silmarillion, OF THE RINGS OF POWER AND THE THIRD AGE.
long hours in past days thorin had spent in the treasury, and the lust of it was heavy on him. though he had hunted chiefly for the arkenstone, yet he had an eye for many another wonderful thing that was lying there. the hobbit, CHAPTER FIFTEEN.
and already, so strong was the bewilderment of the treasure upon [thorin], he was pondering whether by help of dáin he might not recapture the arkenstone and withhold the share of the reward. the hobbit, CHAPTER SEVENTEEN.
while sauron could not tame to his will the dwarves, through his seven rings he kindled in the hearts of the bearers and their descendants a great desire for gold so long as they possessed their particular ring. such is the tragedy that befell particularly the ruling descendants of the line of durin who treasured their ring and wore it age upon age. the gold-sickness ran deep in thrór’s lineage. thrór did not take off his ring save to present it to his son, thráin, on the eve of the battle of azanulbizar (2799 of the third age), though the sickness and passing years had long-since robbed thrór of his ability to rule unhindered by his constant and greedy ruminations on gold and the acquiring of it, which had tinged the last decade of his reign upon erebor’s throne and waned the formerly present good-will of his dwarf heart. thráin had grown in the presence of the ring since birth, sharing in his father’s gold-sickness as it too mounted steadily within him. the ring was taken from thráin on the battlefield by azog the defiler, and thus the last and mightiest of the dwarf rings was held once more by sauron. remnants of the magical madness, kindled yet dormant, remained in thorin¹.
thrór’s love of gold had grown too fierce. a sickness had begun to grow within him. it was a sickness of the mind. THE HOBBIT TRILOGY FILMS.
“ a strain of madness runs deep in that family. his grandfather lost his mind. his father succumbed to the same sickness. can you swear thorin oakenshield will not also fall? ” THE HOBBIT TRILOGY FILMS.
“ yes, i’m afraid. i fear for you. a sickness lies upon that treasure hoard. a sickness which drove your grandfather mad. ” THE HOBBIT TRILOGY FILMS.
“ dragon sickness. i’ve seen it before. the look, the terrible need. it is a fierce and jealous love, bilbo. it sent his grandfather mad. ” THE HOBBIT TRILOGY FILMS.
dragon-sickness differs from gold-sickness in that the former is brought about because a dragon has long-brooded over gold now in the ownership of another. the potency of a dragon’s greed is a cause of concern for all, for few can shelter their hears from its hissing, slithering call. many become consumed by it, while others find its effects, though pervasive, fleeting². the effects of dragon-sickness are alike to gold-sickness, but more swift than the latter that has crept into the heart for decades. in this way, dragon-sickness can be more easily overcome, but gold-sickness cannot be wholly cured once it has taken hold. dwarves under the influence of such a madness (whether slowly or suddenly) let their greed for gold define them. their thoughts, their dreams, and their actions are consumed by the want to see gold, touch gold, and gather gold, ‘til such necessities such as eating, drinking, and sleeping no longer interest them. they either flee with their gold (sometimes in search of more of it), never to be seen again, or die malnourished and sleep-less upon their hoard (in some instances they may try to consumed the gold and jewels, thus choking and destroying their insides). one can either exacerbate or work in tandem with the other to pull the unfortunate dwarf into the throes of a hopeless gold-lust³.
thorin, a dwarf already affected by the gold-sickness inside himself awoken by the presence of erebor’s great hoard, had these effects quickened by the presence of dragon-sickness as well. while it took thrór many, many years of the gold-sickness building upon itself before it changed the manner in which he ruled his kingdom, thorin was taken almost immediately upon the sight of it because of smaug’s powerfully mountainous greed⁴. there would have been no hope, no matter how diligently he tried to manage himself or attempted with gandalf’s wizardry, to separate from the longings that had plagued his family since the gift of the ring for the longbeards. while he strove to fight it, to proclaim that he was not his grandfather⁵ and that he would not succumb to the same weakness, it had overtaken him and his demeanor the moment the gold glittered around him. he no longer understood anything besides the piles of riches. he did not trust his company, the dwarves he no longer recognized. the intensity of his reaction to bilbo’s betrayal becomes entirely uncharacteristic⁶ and driven solely by the greed to keep what he had claimed in the mountain. it was the only thing that had meaning for him, a meaning that went far above his own life or his bonds.
thorin witnessed his grandfather experiencing the sickness of the gold; it had been coming to him, something he feared. [...] i saw the sickness as a mental disease that manifested itself in an irrational mind in a degenerative way. thorin did not recognize himself or those around him. there was forgetfulness, fury, sudden clarity, memory loss, memory gain, but it was also a kind of fever. when close to the gold, thorin felt its heat, and when it was distant he craved its warmth, like a drug addict. the gold was restorative and regenerative, but had side effects, draining him, fatiguing him, slowing him down. weta’s the hobbit chronicles, RICHARD ARMITAGE’S COMMENTARY.
it is through incredible fortitude and a noble heart that thorin is able to overcome for a time the gold and dragon-sickness so that he could go forth and lead the dwarves in the battle of the five armies for erebor. the supportive (and accusatory) words from the company, his friends, served to temporarily push, or let be swallowed, the sickened part of him that had put him in a perilous daze of greed. this overcoming was not forever, and while the dragon-sickness was conquered, the gold-sick part of thorin still remained, though buried⁷. without both the loyalty of his company and the necessity of bilbo’s well-intentioned stealing, as well as thorin’s own resolve, he would not have come out of it in time, perhaps even not at all. the moment depicted upon the golden floor is not a triumph, but a show of determination and resilience against the battle within his head. it was a battle he needed to fight with himself before he could fight for his people and their home.
[...] in a way, his possession of gold, the totality of “ everything ” he had wished for, which had brought him to this lonely place, was the turning point. seeing and hearing what he had become reflected back at him, the gold consuming him and sucking him under, his last breath nearly taken, drowning, is as close to death as thorin had come. it was as if he was jolted awake. weta’s the hobbit chronicles, RICHARD ARMITAGE’S COMMENTARY.
the gold-sickness of durin’s line ended with the death of thorin (and sauron’s reclamation of the last dwarf ring). while the hearts of dwarves forever remain fond of gold and the beauty of all that glimmers, the greed would never become hereditary as it had with thrór’s family. thorin may not have remained impervious to his grandfather’s madness, but it was with the stout heart of a true king that he fought that madness and rose above it for the dwarves, his kin, his people.
FOOTNOTES:
1 thorin’s sister, dís, and his brother, frerin, both also had exposure to the greed of sauron’s dwarf ring. frerin died without his gold-sickness showing, and dís never once felt the tug of the call. fíli and kíli never came into contact with the ring, thus breaking the line of gold-sickness. it is said that those fair-haired of durin’s line, such as dís and fíli’s blonde hair, is a manifestation of the durin line’s greed for gold, turned that color by it.
2 each member of the company felt the effects of dragon-sickness and the enchantment of the gold, including bilbo, but it passed, unlike with thorin. as described in:
all the same mister baggins kept his head more clear of the bewitchment of the hoard than the dwarves did. long before the dwarves were tired of examining the treasure, he became weary of it [...] the hobbit, CHAPTER THIRTEEN.
3 some have speculated whether or not the carrying of the one ring by bilbo baggins exacerbated thorin’s sickness, but given the dwarves’ ability to resist the will of sauron, it would have had no impact on thorin or the rest of the company. they would not have been tempted by it on its own.
4 the moment thorin steps out into view of the hoard, his breath is taken away, and his pallor pales further, as if immediately sickened and enchanted by the sight of it and being in its presence.
5 thorin states in the film, “ i am not my grandfather ”, and balin returns with “ you’re not yourself ”.
6 it is unclear whether or not thorin would have truly thrown bilbo off of the ramparts. thorin’s sickness had become a singular trust and obsession with bilbo over the rest of the company, and the perceived betrayal pushes thorin into a disbelieving hurt that is turned to fury with the audience before him. if gandalf had not arrived, thorin may very well, in his addled state, thrown bilbo over.
7 if thorin had lived, the gold-sickness would have remained with him for the rest of his life. it is not a curable madness, only able to be tamed and endured with a careful discipline and the watchful gaze of his friends and family. while it would not have progressed to the same intensity as thrór (such as leaving him unable to rule) as thorin did not wear sauron’s dwarf ring, his involvement in the treasure hoard would have been reduced to very few visits and some restricted overseeing, nor would he had been able to don much gold. he would have gone through periods of flaring gold-lust before calming a day or five later and regaining his head.
“ how far do you think it is? ” asked thorin, for by now they knew bilbo had the sharpest eyes among them. “ not at all far. i shouldn’t think about twelve yards, ” said bilbo. “ twelve yards! ” exclaimed thorin. “ i should have thought it was thirty at least, but my eyes don’t see as they used a hundred years ago. ” the hobbit, CHAPTER EIGHT.
dwarves, with their preference in remaining underground in the dim and dark¹ of their mountains where in such places little light oft reaches the eye, are more near-sighted than any other race in middle-earth. whereas elves can look across great distances, dwarves can see very fine details not caught by others when anything is brought close (a trait that lends itself to the unmatched workmanship that they are able to achieve with their craft). the near-sightedness of dwarves does not hinder them much², and while it becomes less and less easy to see far away unaided with age, they are otherwise unaware or indifferent to any difficulties. their architecture and ornamentation, comprised of straight lines, large, prominent statues, stamped patterns, deeply embedded runes, and embossed beads are aspects that reflect this lacking in their sight and ensure that the dwarves do not need faraway sight to be able to see these designs and journey through their realm (though tapestries have a large part in depictions of family history and lineage, flat decorations are rarely seen, if made at all, and many such sorts may emit a glow), nor would they need eyesight itself to be able to relate to their adornments that are as physically interactive (able to be perceived through contact) (i.e. the rune-stone received by kíli from dís is meant to be felt as much as looked at) as they are and can be visually³.
“ [...] but fíli is the youngest and still has the best sight, ” said thorin. “ come here, fíli, and see if you can see the boat mister baggins is talking about. ” the hobbit, CHAPTER EIGHT.
rare is it that a blow comes down hard enough to cause a dwarf any lasting harm, but when fighting azog the defiler during the battle of azanulbizar (2799 of the third age) before the gates of khazad-dûm (moria), a swing of azog’s spiked mace caused the oaken branch that thorin wielded to strike backwards into his head. he fell to the ground with a blow that was aggressive enough to promise further destruction of his eyesight, more than what is common for a dwarf, and quicker than age. his sword cutting off azog’s arm instead of his head is because of this, as he could no longer see clearly enough to translate the abruptly indistinct appearance of his foe, nor was he able to see azog carried into khazad-dûm alive (the blow left him with temporary “ double vision ” that cleared itself before the final charge, and henceforth marked the gradual loss of his far sight).
[...] a young dwarf prince facing down the pale orc, his armor rent, wielding nothing but an oaken branch as a shield. blow after blow the orc delivered upon this branch, ‘til one such powerful swing drove it back into the prince’s head, sending him down to the ground [...] THE HOBBIT TRILOGY FILMS.
the adjustment was difficult the more it deteriorated, but with determined practice and training, as well as a gradually heightened hearing (he has become particularly adept at hearing and recognizing sounds, and when certain people are speaking), has him able to do battle with as much skill as any other warrior (instead of mostly direct attacks, thorin tends to twirl with his weapon or use broad, upward strokes as a means to make sure that he strikes his enemy and does not fall short because he cannot strike as precisely) (i.e. this form can be seen most notably during the escape from the goblin tunnels)⁴. his eyesight is not so far gone that he cannot recognize shapes and surroundings, albeit distorted or faint depending on the distance between him and what his eyes search for. around one meter (sometimes a little farther, sometimes less) is as far as he can see without beginning to struggle, but this depends on how well-rested he is, and the distance is oftentimes less than that rather than met. thorin can see up close as crystal-clearly as his fellow dwarves.
seasons passed, and he adapted to not being able to see as well as others, not thinking much on it save for when journeying required someone with sharper eyes than his (the blur is not so great that he cannot make plenty a journey himself, which he usually does). his experience serves him well and makes up for what he lacks in his eyesight. save for a few strange instances that may cause the unaware dwarves to scratch their beards⁵, balin, dwalin, dís, fíli, and kíli are the only ones aware of the truth and do their best to discreetly support him without tramping upon his position of leader (this can be disheartening and infuriating for thorin, who either bears it silently if he has no choice, or resists their efforts).
amidst the mourning for those who were lost during the battle of azanulbizar, which claimed the lives of thrór, thorin’s grandfather, frerin, thorin’s younger brother, and ended with the disappearance of thráin, thorin’s father, his eyesight was not forefront on his mind, and remained far from it for a while. indeed, it took nearly a year before he realized the change (though he may have realized it earlier, it took him at least that long to acknowledge it and far longer still for him to accept it). however, others around him, namely his battle brother, dwalin, and víli, fíli and kíli’s father, noticed much sooner, and kept a closer guard around thorin. he moved on without taking a moment to grieve his eyesight, one more thing that battle had cost him. working himself to nearly the end of his fortitude, he toiled ceaselessly to regain the skills that had lessened or left him in the wake of this impairment. he neither cursed it outright nor cared so little about it that it did not make him brood, the ever-looming gloom of being hindered and thus, in his mind, lesser than his forefathers. it was a weight set atop so many others, another strain upon the dimming of his mind’s light, but one that he had no choice but to bear, even if it snuffed him out.
thorin fumbles now and then, enduring humbling mishaps, yet pushing on regardless in true dwarven stubbornness without letting himself or other dwarves take much notice. he is set on still embodying the leader he wishes to be to the greatest of his abilities (and perhaps past them), and he does not slow simply because he cannot see the path as clearly. he knows it is there, and that is enough. he will make it be. he carries rectangular, thin-wire spectacles in one of his packs, but only wears them privately.
FOOTNOTES:
1 dwarves can see incredibly well in darkness, and despite his near-sightedness, this includes thorin.
2 this is because of stone-sense, something that all dwarves have. stone-sense, in a summarized definition, is the dwarven ability to sense the stone around them, noting where it is safe and where it is not, and using it to make their way through the mountains both in general and with mining and other such stone-related endeavors. thorin’s near-sightedness is completely unnoticeable to anyone watching him in the mountain because of how his stone-sense guides him, resonating a little more loudly than most because of his disability.
3 information was drawn in part from this post.
4 in regards to archery, thorin learned how to use a bow during his erebor years before his injury, and while he can only use it to a certain extent depending on the situation, he is still capable of shooting from one. that is not to say that he is very good at it, however.
5 thorin is very practiced at hiding it, and while your character and others may figure it out eventually, it is not outright apparent that he is so very near-sighted. your character and others would most likely not catch it ‘til they are explained to by thorin, or are in a situation that reveals it because he made a distinct blunder. he will mostly ignore the questions when asked.
6 that is not to say that he does not lead the company over treacherous paths, which he does, only that he merely hands over his place in the front when he thinks it is necessary (and he is not always right about when it is not).
OCCURENCES ARE NOTED BELOW:
the hobbit (AN UNEXPECTED JOURNEY) one: he arrived late to bag end because he could not see the mark that gandalf had left upon bilbo baggins’ door, which resulted in him becoming rather off-track. he walked up and down bagshot row twice before, on the third attempt, he drew close enough to see the mark. it is a myth that thorin gets lost easily; this is entirely untrue. two: instructing balin to lead the way when they journeyed out of rivendell was partly because balin knew it, and partly because it was unfamiliar enough that thorin did not trust himself to lead the company with his impairment and the steep fall to one side⁶. three: in the misty mountains during the battle of the stone giants, thorin’s eyesight was obstructed considerably with the heavy rain-fall, and he could not see whether it was fíli or kíli beside him when they were separated from half the company. as indicated in the film’s subtitles, he does accidentally call for kíli, mistaking fíli for his brother. four: thorin does not realize that bilbo is not with them when they make it out of the goblin tunnels because he simply could not see well enough to notice he was not there (one of two such accidental occurrences, and not because he disvalued bilbo’s safety). five: azog the defiler’s warg bringing thorin to the ground may look like bad form on thorin’s part, but when the warg leapt into the air, thorin could no longer tell for sure how close it was in front of him, and by the time it was close enough for him too see it, it was too late, and he had charged too near. other commentary: the ending scene with thorin looking out at erebor in the distance was moreso him knowing it was out there on the horizon and not because he could see it as well as the others in the company.
the hobbit (THE DESOLATION OF SMAUG) one: the hardness of the stone path in mirkwood aided thorin in being able to lead the company for most of the way, but, as seen in the film, there are several instances where dwalin has to find the path for him if it was coated in too much greenery. two: the longer he remained in mirkwood, the more his eyesight slacked under its enchantment, ‘til nearly all of his surroundings were a blur, and his abrupt command for the company to follow him and stray from the path was because he could not see and felt cornered into making an unwise and hasty decision when he spotted distant (false) firelight. three: thorin does not realize bilbo is missing when battling the spiders because he still could not see well enough (the second occurrence, still as much an accident as the first, and still not because he disvalued bilbo’s safety). four: his boot stepping on the cord tied to the key before it fell down the mountainside was completely unintentional, which is why he gives bilbo the look he does before he stoops to pick it up. other commentary: archery is thorin’s least mastered skill because of his eyesight, but that does not mean he does not still attempt it every now and then, as one sees with the white stag. he saves it for when he is certain he would not accidentally strike the wrong persons. the incident with the barrels had him relying quite a lot on his instincts, but was also attributed to the culmination of his rigorous training to ensure that others, including himself, would not die because of his eyesight. his throw that saves legolas’ life is a show of hard work. most of his confident running around in erebor can be attributed to stone-sense, but several of the leaps he makes were ones of faith rather than knowing for certain something was there to grab.
the hobbit (THE BATTLE OF THE FIVE ARMIES) one: he could not see and be sure that bard held the arkenstone until kíli’s exclamation, and that is when thorin’s face darkens with realization and his suspicions of the glowing colors that he could distinguish are cleared. two: the tragedy is that he could not see fíli’s final moments, not truly. azog and fíli were at such a distance that while he knew who was standing there and what was happening, the details, such as the last emotions on his nephew’s face before he perished, were lost to him. other commentary: throwing the ruby was mostly the assumption that the shapes of either fíli or kíli noticed through stone-sense would catch it if he aimed it enough in their direction. he has a decent aim that he worked on diligently throughout the decades. the warning shot let loose at thranduil was a miss. he had been aiming to wound thranduil’s ride from the start.
“ it is said that thorin’s shield was cloven and he cast it away, finding upon the battlefield a branch of oak. he held it in his left hand to ward off the strokes of his foe, and in this way, he got his name. ” THORIN OF TOLKIEN’S THE HOBBIT, STORIED BY KATHLEEN. PREVIOUSLY EREBORSKING.