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An uncharacteristically genuine smile came across Snaveling’s face at the mere thought of an attempt to claim the throne of Gondor as his own. He chuckled in a manner that was almost merry as he reassured Aman, “I do not intend to challenge the King, my friend.” He suddenly saw himself before the throne of the King, flanked on all sides by Elessar’s doughtiest warriors and the splendour of his court, and he saw himself hurling a challenge at the King and demanding that the Man who reigned in Minas Tirith step down from thence and yield to Snaveling of the Hunting Folk. His chuckle became a laugh, and his head fell back against the chair in his mirth as he contemplated the picture he had created for himself. When he looked back at Aman he could see confusion and amusement in her eye, so he explained what had made him laugh.
Aman smiled in turn to hear Snaveling describe the scene of his threatening. “Indeed,” she said, “I did not ask if you meant to challenge the King with any hope that you might succeed. But there are those yet in the world who would flock to the banner of one descended from last King of Númenór – although I doubt that you would find any of them to be trustworthy allies.”
“I am still learning of such matters,” Snaveling replied lightly, “so I will take your word for the truth and good sense that I know it to be. But I have yet to answer your true question, although you took care not to ask it as bluntly as perhaps it needs to be: why can I not keep my secret? There are two answers to that. The first is that there are already at least three people who know – Roa, Galadel and Toby. Roa is bound by her oaths and her duty to reveal what she has learned to her lord, and I would not ask her to deny those oaths, even if I thought there was a chance that she would. Galadel is an Elf and thus I do not know what she will do with the knowledge – but you can be sure that if it is a weighty matter she will take it to those among her kin who yet remain in Middle-Earth who possess the wisdom she deems necessary, and they will take counsel on the matter. As for Toby,” and here he smiled again, “I doubt not that if I asked the rogue to keep my secret he would…for as long as he could. Wine or age or forgetfulness would loosen his already infirmly fastened tongue and he would spread the tale of his friend the True King of Númenór to the patrons of the Inn. No, Aman, I am afraid that it is impossible to keep this as a secret now.”
Aman took this all in with a nod. She paused for a moment before speaking carefully. “You said that there were two answers to my question.”
Snaveling settled back into his chair with a sigh. “Yes,” he said slowly, “the second answer.” The sounds of people gathering in the Common Room mingled with the birdsong that came through the open window of Aman’s private lounge. Snaveling noted for the first time how different this room appeared in daylight. No longer was it the close and faintly foreboding place that it had seemed the night before, when it had been the scene of his confrontation with Aman. In a way, it seemed smaller in the light – certainly, much less threatening. The furniture, before solid and dark, was now comfortable and well-made. It occurred to the Man that perhaps the change had not been in the room, but in himself…
“The second answer,” he said again slowly as he fingered his amulet. He stood suddenly and strode to the window and stood there, looking out at the dawn of a new day as though he understood what it meant. “That’s a more difficult answer to explain, but I shall try. All my life I thought I knew precisely who and what I was – and what life was like and what my place should be in it. I had my dreams, but I never really believed in them; not in the way that people with a home and a safe place to call their own can believe in their dreams. But now I find that perhaps I am not the person I thought I was – that perhaps, just perhaps, I am more than that lonely Man who stumbled into this Inn all those weeks ago, with naught but malice in his heart and a gnawing hunger in his belly.” He turned to face Aman, and his eyes blazed with a cold flame. “I do not wish to deny who I am, not any longer. I may find the price of my new self-knowledge to be high, but I shall not shirk from the debt I owe my ancestors. I do not make any claim upon the throne of Gondor – but I will demand recognition from the one sits upon it.”
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