[Kransha]

Tobias Hornblower’s eyes were closed, but they began to drift open, his heavy eyelid uplifting to allow his clouded eyes to look up at his compatriot. He saw the look on Snaveling’s face, a look he’d seen from the start of the brisk morning till this rainy portion of the day. He was not blind, nor deaf to the words and the thoughts of his newest friend here, and he knew what was occurring. He had heard what snippets he needed to of the surrounding conversations, and did not need further prompting. Though he was usually, more or less, in the dark to anything and everything going on around him, he knew, and Snaveling knew he knew, what was going to happen soon enough. With a more solemn air than Snaveling had ever seen on the rodent-like features of Toby, the Halfling spoke first.

“You’re leaving, aren’t you?” he said, oddly cold as his voice faded. Snaveling nodded soberly, having already deduced Toby’s educated guess, “Yes, Toby. I wanted to say goodbye. Toby-” The hobbit cut him off before he could continue, slowly standing from his seat, looking three times as old as he was as he seemed to sluggishly struggle to his feet, but stood fully upright, still considerably shorter than his counterpart. Snaveling’s farewell oration faded and fell back in his throat as, forcing the words, Toby began to speak again, his usual droning voice replaced by one of strength and warmth within.

“My friend…my dear friend, Snaveling…From the first moment I saw you I knew, as you knew when you look upon me, that it was not a good man…or, in my case, a good hobbit at heart who you looked upon. We were thieves, we were rogues then…but, as much of that still lives in us, we have grown much since that day…If I have not already, I wish to again thank you. Snaveling, even though I do not believe you were trying to, you taught me something, which I never expected to learn from a man such as yourself, or any man. I did not know I was capable of befriending foreigners, or much of anyone. The only real companions I’ve had were back in Longbottom, and we were all comrades there, so I held no special bond to them.”

The Halfling’s gaze flinched, almost involuntarily, turning down from Snaveling, who tried in vain to follow it down. Toby had always looked merry to him, at least somewhat, or extremely suspicious, but very rarely this stern. The little being, stuffed so foolishly into his twinkling outfit with the smoke-wreathed pipe still wedged into a side pocket, looked almost philosophical as he pondered his next words, hesitating over each one.

“You…and Roa, and Galadel, and Miss Amanduial as well have all grown in my eyes. You were a scoundrel and a thief, Roa a mysterious and suspicious maid, Galadel an shady elf, Aman a rustic horsemistress, but the shroud over my eyes has been lifted, Snaveling. I don’t see you that way any more, any of you. I see an upstanding man with the first good dreams he’s ever had, I see a fair maiden, noble, kind, I see an elf, beautiful and majestic, and a good friend who happens to have a say in how much ale I get in the morning. I thought I could never look on any of you as such, but now I do…and, Snaveling, I have you to thank for it.”

“My friend, do you see what I see in this room? I see, now more than ever, people who have come together, united, to talk and to sing and to be happy together. These people don’t care about the gold in their pockets or the weed in their pipe, they care about merriment, about happiness…and even, some, about each other…" he drifted off, his phrase withering as he shot the last fiendish glance, tempered with a friendly grin, at Snaveling, considering his 'plight', "Snaveling," he continued, the grin dissapearing as he returned to marble-stiff seriousness, "today I can say, beyond the mystic shadow of a doubt, that I am one of them! When I return in a week or so Longbottom after my stay here, I won’t care about my money, my fields of Longbottom Leaf, my grand estate in the Southfarthing, oh no. When I return, I’m going to call all my young cousins and nieces and nephews together around me, and I’m going to tell them about you, Snaveling, and about Roa, and about all the rest. I’m going to tell them the story of the great fire of the Green Dragon and of the heroes who made all right again. Until today, I’ve known countless tales of hobbit heroes, but I’ve never known any man or woman with the courage I saw. I was honored to be with them, and with you, and I was happy to be there because I saw you and all my friends changing, coming together, and I knew that if I spent one more minute of my short life wrenching for a couple of gold coins, I’d die a miserable old fool without a care for the world around me, unloved and uncared for by anyone on this Middle-Earth.”

He looked up, slowly but surely, looking at Snaveling, a delicate sparkling glint evident in his left eye. Just as they always did, his sharp ears were quivering very meekly as a smile crossed his lips. It seemed to Snaveling that his distinct protrusion had faded, and he looked more a hobbit than he ever had before. Something more than the withered glint was shimmering in Toby’s eye, but Snaveling did not bother to guess as to what it was, since he already knew better than any, though he’d never expected to see such a thing from the roguish Halfling. Toby's face at last broke again into a soothing smile, which crested his face like a new sunrise on a dark night, and Snaveling could not help but smile back.

“Snaveling, I don’t know how many friends you’ve ever had in your life, or how many you have now, but I want you to know, if you ever return to the Shire, you will have a friend there, ready to except you at his door. I wish you as luck as I can and hope your journey will be a safe and good one…And, Snaveling, there will be, in the Southfarthing of the Shire, just a league north of Longbottom, a small house surrounded by trees…empty…waiting for the man who owns it now. Three weeks ago, I promised you a house of your own in Roa’s tent after the fire…I am a hobbit who keeps his word.”