[Fordim Hedgethistle]

"Yes Snaveling," Roa said, "I think you do owe us all an explanation."

Snaveling was a thief, and a liar; he had no compunction about doing whatever underhanded trick was necessary to see that he benefited from any given situation. He had sneaked, slunk, manipulated and mislead. He had run away from people who needed his help, and put the lives of others in danger when it presented an advantage to him. He helped no-one. He took no risks for anyone's advantage but his own. But in all his life he had never, ever, felt the cold thrill of murderous thought enter his mind.

Until now.

Tobias Hornblower was easily the most ridiculous and simple-minded being that Snaveling had ever had the misfortune to become entangled with. At this very moment, as he bobbed before Snaveling, poking his finger upward at the man who wanted him very much dead, he seemed utterly oblivious to the fact that he was exposing them both for all their perfidity and constructions before the very people upon whom they had been practicing them. Snaveling was utterly speechless with rage. He felt his face grow dark and dangerous, his hands began to twitch and then, something happened that had not happened to Snaveling in so long, that he was the last person there to realise what it was.

He began to laugh. Not the malicious cackle of glee that he usually gave vent to at the misfortune of others. And not the sly, thin, cruel sound that he sometimes uttered when cutting the throat of bird or a rabbit that his trap had caught but not slain. But an honest, healthy, heartfelt laugh, the likes of which he no longer knew he was even capable of. The laugh rose above the heads of those around him, and carried through the yard. And at the sound of its echo returning to him, Snaveling could not help but laugh the more. His sides ached, and tears came down his face. He fell backward against the trestle to catch his balance, and his sides heaved with the effort it took to fill his lungs with air.

Roa was the first to join him, and Valthalion was soon to follow. Galadel's musical laughter mingled with their own, and like the laughter of all Elves, it was as though she were weeping with a joy that went deeper than the mortal heart. The last to succumb was Toby, for his rage was great and his confusion mighty, but even he could not resist.

"Why," Snaveling gasped when he could finally draw breath, "why did I confess? BECAUSE I DID IT, YOU WONDERFULLY RIDICULOUS LITTLE HOBBIT!!!!" Snaveling fought to control himself, in order to explain. Gulping down his laughter he struggled toward Toby and said more quietly. "I can't explain it any better than that, my friend -- yes! I call you my friend you miraculous rogue, and so I hope you will call me. I confessed because I did steal the purse, and I was in an agony of pain and torment because of it, and there was no other way to make it stop."

"But why," Toby gasped, "why are you laughing?"

"Because I just this moment realised how ridiculous the whole thing has been. Do you realise Toby that I have spent an entire week calculating, lying, decieving, worrying and being tortured by a purse of gold!? A purse of gold!! Do you have any idea, how dark my nights have been? How I've longed, each evening, to die rather than face the painful hours until morning? Do you realise that every day I have been so possessed by thoughts of that stupid little purse of gold that I did not feel the sun on my skin, or take the time to enjoy the wind on my face? Toby," he grabbed Tobias by the shoulders and looked into his face. "It just wasn't worth it any more!"

Toby looked like he was going to explode -- with mirth or wrath Snaveling could not tell -- but the look on that rat-like face sent him into another paroxysm of laughter that felt like starshine in midsummer.