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“A gift…” Snaveling could not believe his ears, and for the time it took Aman to move to the door he fought through the drink and despair toward recognition of what had happened…again. Again, he had erred and committed a wrong and again he had been forgiven. Again, he had revealed his truest nature and again it had been met with pity rather than cruelty; mercy rather than the rough form of justice that he had come to expect in the outside world. The “outside” world? he thought to himself. Am I so comfortable in this place already that I feel as though the rest of the wide world is common in that it is not here? Am I already so at home in this place… At home: the phrase burst open in his mind like a blossom of flame. He was at home here; truly and fully at home.
He leapt to his feet and stayed Aman from leaving the room. “Mistress Aman,” he said, a smile spreading across his features giving his pallid hue a healthiness and warmth that shone through even the livid colours of his intoxication and shame. “I cannot tell you what you have done for me this night. You offer me a gift of the brandy – rather, I will take it in payment for whatever services I can do you in the time that I remain here. You speak of three who are coming who are important to you. Please, if there is aught that I can do to aid you in preparing for them, let me know. As to my accommodation, I have spent a lifetime in the wild and prefer the outside. My bunk in the stables will do nicely for me, if that is acceptable to yourself.”
Aman smiled at Snaveling. She remained a little unsure but clearly took heart from his altered manner. “That is acceptable to me entirely, and understandable for there are many horses whose company I prefer over many peoples!”
Snaveling’s smile grew as well, and he took Aman’s hand in both of his own and kissed it. “My lady,” he began, but the Innkeeper cut him off. “We’ll have none of that,” she said pulling her hand free.
“Very well,” the Man continued, “I shall call you Aman, then, and no longer Mistress Rohan. I’ve come to see of late that many things I held to be true are not, and I begin to believe that my opinion of your people is perhaps formed of too slight an acquaintance. I will not and cannot forsake the grievances of my people, but I will in future attempt to form my opinion of your kin based on their behaviour toward me, rather than what I have heard reported of them by their enemies.” Aman smiled and said that this, at least, was a step in the right direction. But Snaveling’s face grew dark once more, and his aspect grave as his mind turned to another matter. Aman looked at him with the unspoken question in her eye. For a moment, Snaveling hid his feelings, but the frank nature of the woman overcame the last of his secretiveness and he spoke out. “Before I can find real peace, there are people I need to speak with, and hard truths I need to confess. I believe that now, I am ready finally to do so!”
Aman opened the door and, together with Snaveling, they rejoined the party.
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