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As they had before, Toby Hornblower’s eyes fluttered open foolishly as he looked, a dumb expression peeled over his features, at Snaveling.
“Ye…yes, I’m awake, of course I’m awake, I’m more awake than…than…” his voice faded into blurs and slurs and incomprehensible babbling as he examined the oddly friendly, though consternated look on his friend’s face. He blinked and felt a sudden swelling in his belly and throat. Though he knew it blasphemous to allow such a thing after such a song, he could not contain it. A small, gurgling, muffled belch escaped Toby like a contained explosion, but that didn’t seem to faze Snaveling.
“I do think it were a good song….I especially like the part about the wine….yes, yes, t’was a good bit. Ye should sing more often, me friend, people would think better of ye.” Toby’s words became rustic, as did his look. All his lessons in high-class hobbit behavior failed him as his posture crumbled, his face looked drunker than ever, and he found himself hiccupping continuously. Snaveling nodded pensively, smiling just barely beneath his normal façade. Suddenly, Toby’s merry but befuddled expression changed as he dug a hand into his pocket slowly, his gaze straying from Snaveling.
His dimmed eyes turning back to the man, he thumped his filled hand on a small round table sitting beside his armchair. He pulled the hand drowsily off the table to reveal what he’d been holding. It was a small but weighty cloth purse, filled with the shapes of many jingling coins that chimed together like small delicate bells as the elder hobbit’s hand sifted the bag back and forth. The coin purse held the worn mark of the Hornblowers, an intricately inked horn with a precise laurel around it. The hobbit shot Snaveling a meaningful but tired look and leaned forward, speaking as seriously as he could when drunk.
“Snaveling. I do b’lieve the time has come ta make my little ‘plan’ public, since I don’t think I can trust myself to remember it any longer. Ya see, I’ve been savin’ somethin’ fer tonight…A little recum…recom…recompense for all the trouble I’ve caused and such…Bein’ a prosperis hobb’t of the south, I have a lot of money nowadays…I decided that t’would be best ta give a li’l ‘donation’ to Miz Aman and the Green Dragon…But now, I fear I might spend it on a tall mug of ale if I’m not careful, so I thought I might entrust it to a trustworthy someone until the time comes ta present it to Miz Aman or someone of that caliber…So, perhaps you could keep the gift until it’s required…”
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