Aunt Mildred is Piggy's Aunt, the one he constantly talks about on the island. Whenever he talked about her, I always assumed that Piggy's aunt was the nicer version of Dolores Umbridge.
Oh, and I found Piggy's real name. It's Hubert.
OK NOT REALLY but I thought the name really suited him well. Enjoy this potentially awkward Lord of the Flies fic.
Disclaimer: I don't own LOTF. Oh Lord of the Flies, of course not. Not that old, not that talented. Enough said.
Aunt Mildred poured Ralph some tea, and handed the shaking cup and saucer to him. He took it with two hands and sat back in his plushy pink seat. As he took a sip he glanced around the house. Despite the overly-used pink spread out throughout Aunt Mildred's house, it was cozy. Ralph was only slightly agitated by the fact that he was surrounded by four walls starting to close in on him—he needed to get out, run about the forest, hide from the—
"You alright, dear? Clutch my china any more I'm a'feared it might break." The woman chirped nervously.
"Sorry," Ralph apologized and set the saucer down on the table in front of him.
She did the same, and sat back in her armchair. "So you were the one who contacted me about my dear Hubert." Mildred took this opportunity to whip out a handkerchief and blow her nose in it. And then she sniffled slightly and pushed her specs back up her nose.
"I am so sorry for your loss." Ralph frowned, the painful memories flooding back to him. Roger, the rock, the sea, the conch, and blood…
Ralph found himself gripping tightly to the arm of the chair and Aunt Mildred looking over at him with pursed lips. "You must be traumatized," she stated.
The golden-haired boy smiled grimly and nodded. What gave it away? He thought sarcastically, and then instantly pushed away the thought. There was Jack Merridew, coming back to him through his thoughts. It had been three years since the return of the boys to civilization. Three years the boys used to try and return to the world they used to know, the world that cut them off. Three years Ralph searched for his dear friend's aunt, so that she might know what happened to her nephew.
And now that she was there, Ralph didn't know how to put it into words. Your nephew's dead, Mildred. I'm sorry for your loss, Aunt Mildred. "Piggy's dead." Ralph hadn't realized how blunt it sounded until it was too late.
She made a noise that sounded like a mix between a sniffle, hiccup and gasp. Mildred pressed her hankie to her mouth and let out a sob that made Ralph shudder.
It sounded just like the one he had uttered when the ship had found the savages on the island.
Without knowing it, Ralph had gotten up from his seat and kneeled next to the crying woman. He placed a hand around her shoulders awkwardly in an attempt to soothe her. Inhaling deeply in an attempt to sedate herself, Mildred patted his arm. She smiled through her sorrow and scoffed into the lace handkerchief. "The last time someone called Hubert 'Piggy' was right before he left on that airplane. It was that name that led him to his…" she burst into tears once more.
"His death." Ralph finished for the older woman. She leaned into his shoulder, sobs once again racking her frail body. Ralph looked ahead blindly as he rubbed soft circles on her back.
The 15-year-old was reminded of a cream-colored shell, a fire, the storm, the pig-runs, the animal, Simon…
Ralph cleared his throat to steer clear of the guilt still burdened with the other boy's name. He had yet to get over the island, and god knows how long it would take for the sandy-haired boy to return to his former self. Ralph subconsciously knew he would never be the same, but he tried all he could. Tried to block out anything that had to do with his haunting island and get back to England.
Finally, subdued from all the blubbering, Aunt Mildred sat back and blew her nose once more before looking into Ralph's eyes and gave him a warm, genuine smile. "Well," she sniffed, "I'm glad to know that before he died, Hubert had at least one true friend."
"Yes." Ralph looked out again, away from Mildred, and thought once more of the better days on the island, full of laughter and friendship and specs shining in the heat. He managed a small grin at the thought of Piggy. "One true friend."
Well. I feel a bit awkward and self-conscious uploading this. BUT UPLOAD I MUST. For I think Piggy (or Hubert, in this case) deserves some closure.
What did you think? By the way, Hubert is a Germanic names that means 'bright mind or intelligent.' Rest in peace, Piggy.
~~AgentAva