The Hobbit King

Once upon a time, in a little kingdom, there lived a Hobbit King. He was short, and kinda ugly, and old and wrinkly, with snow-white hair. He'd only become King in his old age, and even that role was a relatively newly-created one.

See, even though there was a King in the country, he served a purely ceremonial purpose. Everyone knew that the real power lay in the hands of the Grand Vizier and his White Knights of the Lightning Bolt. However, to appease the people, and to fool outsiders, the role of a King was created some years back.

The (puppet) King had "served" the kingdom for a while, and it was time to find his successor. He had no heirs, so the Vizier and his Knights began looking for one among the population. Theoretically, everyone could be nominated, but to ensure that they remained in power and got a "ruler" who wouldn't challenge them, the Vizier and his Knights built in a clause - well, actually, tons of clauses - that would allow them to filter out unwanted candidates.

Thus, one had to meet a whole list of ridiculous criteria before one could even be nominated. These included being in charge of a division of the White Knights for a certain number of years, being one of the prominent merchants of the kingdom, and so on so forth. Being pretty much in control of who does what in the kingdom meant that the Vizier and his Knights were basically restricting the selection pool to a group of their associates and ex-compatriots.

One little trader, however, found the guts to put in an application. The White Knights laughed. Who was this little man? A nobody. He had a snowball's chance in hell. If this was a fable, you'd eventually find out that this little trader somehow managed to overcome all his obstacles to become King. However, this is not a fable. He was basically laughed out of the picture.

There was a big merchant who felt that he too, could be King. He seemed to meet all the stringent criteria, and thought he was on pretty good terms with the Grand Vizier and his White Knights. But one of the clauses they had built into the selection process was that the nominees had to pass through a group of Elders - supposed wise men of the land who would, in effect, decide for the entire Kingdom whether these people were fit to run for King. Of course, the Elders were comprised of flunkies of the Vizier and his Knights, and as such, there was complete control over the process. Of course there was a show of democracy, but that was all there was to it, a show.

The Vizier and his Knights decided that they wanted someone they could control, someone who wouldn't talk back, someone who didn't have a mind of his own. In short, someone exactly like the old Hobbit who was currently King. Then someone had a brilliant idea: Why not make him King again? That would save trouble and hassle, and minimize risk. After all, he had one leg in the grave already; he wasn't going to upset the status quo.

But here they found they had some public relations problems. People didn't really like the old coot very much. He was kinda stand-offish and didn't get out much. Plus he really wasn't very attractive-looking at all. He also had a reputation back in the day for being a real bastard. So really, the people of the kingdom couldn't care less if he took a nosedive off the citadel. And they were half-expecting him to, because he really was quite old and decrepit.

So the Grand Vizier and his White Knights embarked on a campaign to show people what a great ruler he was, and how fit he was for his post. First they made a huge show of announcing his intention to be King again. The minstrels had a field day singing it everywhere. Then they got all the best doctors in the land to see him, and pronounce him in the pink of health (after letting them have a go at the Palace Treasury, of course). Now this was a stretch, given that he looked rather like a corpse, but the minstrels spun that story as much as they could, and people seemed to believe it.

Next, they had to show that people actually did like the old bugger. They forced him to make a public appearance in the East Gardens and arranged for silly people who were desperate attention-seekers to show up and shout out their love for him. As the minstrels were forcing this story down the public's collective throat, they were also delivering, at the same time, a song smearing the competition (i.e., the merchant. No one really gave any thought to the trader at all). This was a basic setup for what was to follow, which was...

The Announcement of the Candidates for King. The Elders "deliberated" over the three choices. Little trader, big merchant, and present Hobbit King. The big merchant was denounced in public for alleged "crimes" and such, and deemed unworthy. The little trader was just dismissed because he was not worth the time. And finally, they announced that since everyone else was unqualified, the Hobbit King was the only one approved.

The selection of the new King was thus made via elimination and walkover. They swore the old coot in again, and everyone in power was happy. The status quo had been maintained. There would be no change. At least, not for a while. Medical science being what it was, they could probably still keep the old bat going for a while...

The End.

Note: This is a work of fiction. Any similarity to persons and situations living or dead is purely coincidental and unintentional.