[Fordim Hedgethistle]

Snaveling moved through the crowd and tried to look as though he had come to help combat the fire. At first he was delighted by the chaos caused by his fires, but then an accursed rain began to fall and as it did, all his lovely flames began to go up into smoke and ruin. He spat with disgust into a puddle at his feet and joined the crowd of people rushing to combat the fire that was consuming the Inn.

In the press of bodies, Snaveling kept one eye open for an unattended purse or bag that might be needing a new owner, and another eye for the young Man who he was sure had seen him amongst the trees. Fierce young Men with swords and something to prove were something that he had seen too much of in the past: always they sought to prove their mettle by persecuting and shunning him. That is why he took such delight in depriving them of both their possessions and their showy pride.

Even more worrisome to him was the tall Woman whom he had seen running into the Inn, and who had been the first to organize a defense against his fires. Now that he could see her at closer quarters he was able to recognize in her the haughty bearing and distant contempt of a Dunedain Ranger. It was precisely people like her who had made life in the South unbearable to him after that accursed King had retaken the throne of Gondor. She was clearly suspicious of his fires and each time her eyes fell upon him he could feel them boring through his tattered cloak. He hated the eyes of such folk and would have tried to put them out, had the Woman been conveniently asleep and unready.

In all his long years of wandering the lonely wastes between this land of Shire and his home south and west of the White Mountains, Snaveling had learned that it was wisest in circumstances such as these to keep ones enemies as friends. And he knew with every bolt of his subtle cunning that the young Man, and this tall Ranger Woman were very much his enemies. He moved into the bucket line and began to lend them a fervent hand. He called to those further back in the line to bring the water more quickly, and he urged those at its front to be more bold in their attack.

As soon as he could manage it, he got close to the Ranger Woman in order to speak with her. “I think that you share my opinion of the flames that overtook the trees,” he began. “If they were begun by chance, then I am King Under the Mountain.” He dropped his voice low and stepped closer to her. “I saw someone running through the trees just before those new fires started.” The Woman looked at him with caution and asked whom he thought he had seen. Snaveling gathered all of his guile and skill as a liar, pointed at the Young Man and said, “I think it was him.”