Second and Last Chance
(A/N: This is my first attempt at Hobbit and Lord of the Rings fanfiction. It's a story that starts out with a much more humorous, and less introspective and logical, tone than what I usually write. Compared to other stories I want to type up for The Hobbit and Lord of the Rings, this is much lighter. At least for the first bit of it. I realized long ago I can't write a humor piece without having at least a little drama, angst, and perhaps tragedy. Or a lot. This is something of an experiment, to delve into The Hobbit fanfiction community, and to try something different than what I usually see on this sight; to focus on characters most don't seem to write about. For those who don't know, Hilda Bianca is the name of the woman of Laketown who *spoiler* rallies the rest of the women of Dale and Esgaroth to join the men in the Battle of the Five Armies, the one that gets snarky and lippy to Alfrid Lickspittle *end spoiler.* I quite liked her character, and for some reason I can't fathom I found Alfrid amusing, in a way, so decided to play with that. Hope you enjoy. This may be the first in a series of stories I want to write.)
One More Chance
He had made it! He had no clue how he'd slipped passed the orcs, trolls, and whatnot, but he was out, his treasure in tow! Farewell Dale, farewell Bard, farewell fruitless existence in a wretched stinking ruins of a town. There was no love lost between him and the Lake Town residents. He couldn't stand them, they couldn't stand him, no one could stand each other, and so he was frankly quite pleased to be gone. Sure the wilderness was dangerous, but all he'd need to do was find a cozy little town to hole up in for a while and establish himself as a most prominent citizen in. Which, given the treasure he carried, couldn't be too hard of an objective. Make like he was some mighty adventurer or fleeing prince from a fallen kingdom or whatnot and he could be living high with servants to boot within a few months.
Yeah. Big words for a slimy, sleazy, greedy, truly and despicably slippery, coward. Needless to say that plan wasn't panning out so well. He hadn't found a blasted town in miles and had realized, by now, that he was hopelessly lost. A cold dread threatened to take hold of him. All this wealth, all his luck, all gone, and now he was going to die in the bloody wilderness and end up where no gold could follow him. What use were riches when he wasn't alive to spend it all?! Blast the bowman, blast the dragon, blast Middle Earth!
He was going to die.
That thought kept creeping back to him, chilling him right through the bones. He was spinning around in the woods, mouth gaping like a fish. He felt closed in, like the trees were constricting him and strangling the life from his body. Trees, trees, trees, trees! Everywhere he looked trees, and they were all exactly the same! He couldn't tell one from the other. What way was he going? Was he looking up or down? Was he already dead?! Damn the forest, damn it! It was driving him mad! He pulled his hair, closing his eyes and gritting his teeth. Was he even carrying the gold anymore? Suddenly he somehow didn't care. Bloody hell, he just wanted out! A scream of terror suddenly erupted from his throat as panic overwhelmed. He collapsed to the ground unconscious.
LotR
"Get up you lazy lout," a voice said. A feminine voice. One that while not entirely unpleasant was more than enough to make him want to cringe, vomit, or run himself through with a blade. "I said get up, useless dog!" the voice said sharper. He felt the person kick him in the side.
He groaned, eyes flickering open to see who it was. Not that he needed to. He had a pretty good guess. Hovering above him, expression dark and hands on her hips as she glared harshly down on him, was a woman. Not just any woman either. "Oh no, not you," he groaned. "Anyone but you."
"Alfrid Lickspittle, you rotting waste of skin!" she sharply shot, hitting him with the apron she'd taken off of her dress for the sole purpose of whipping him with it. She continued to whip.
"Ow! Ow! Watch it, damn you woman!" Alfrid demanded, trying to get his bearings and scramble away.
"You thought you could just run away in the heat of battle, did ya?! Leave us all to die!?" she demanded. "Well here's just what I think of you, you sorry sod, you slimy stain on the underbelly of a slug, you rotting, oxygen scarfing, fop!" She struck him again and again until he had hurried to his feet and was trying to run away or scamper up a tree, whichever got him away from her apron of death. It was the tree, and he scrambled as best he could up to the first branch.
"Go away! Go back to your carcasses you little harpy! Orc spawn, get out of here!" he snapped viciously at her, throwing pinecones down at the woman.
"Orc spawn?! Hah! At least I wasn't born of the mucus blown out a troll's nose!" she viciously said, tearing at his ankles, the only part of him she could reach. "Come 'ere!"
"I'll bet your mother enjoyed every bit of the orc who conceived you with her!" Alfrid shot back.
"Me father was a hard workin' man! Good fisherman, good 'usband, good father, good person. You couldn't in the life-span of an elf 'ope to be a fraction of the man 'e was even if 'e 'ad been an orc! You left your people to rot!"
"Hilda Bianca, you were already rotting, each and every one of you!" Alfrid shouted, hurling another projectile at her.
"Come down out of those branches and face me like you have some semblance of a backbone!" Hilda demanded.
"Make me!" he replied.
"Very well," she said in all too sweet of a tone. It didn't sit well with Alfrid. "I'll just leave you to rot in these woods while I meself just wander on back to Dale and 'ave a good 'ol meal amongst the company of me friends."
"You 'ave no friends!" Alfrid snapped.
"Farewell, Alfrid Lickspittle. The night is comin' on quickly. I wonder if the spiders is searchin'. 'Aven't 'ad a good meal in a while, I'd wager. Best I be getting on my way. 'Ave fun with your new friends. You'll fit among them better than you ever did amongst the human beings you tried to blend yourself into." She turned and began walking away. Alfrid blinked. Wait. She knew a way out?! No, no, it was a trap. She was leading him back to Dale for trial! He wouldn't give her the satisfaction.
"Fine! Better I spend the rest of me days among the spiders of Mirkwood than live within the same vicinity as you! I feel ill enough sharing the air you breathe as it is, you cantankerous, screeching, sickly little Hagraven! The spiders wouldn't even stomach you! Not the smell let alone the sight, sound, and taste! You weren't in any danger in that battle! The orcs would have taken one look at you and named you their queen! Queen of the Repulsive! Queen of the Unseemly! Queen of every man's worst nightmare! Shrew!"
"Slovenly slug!" her voice called back.
"Goblin Queen!"
"Dragon bait!"
"Whore!" Her response to that was best left unrepeated. He blinked at the retort in shock then scowled. "How dare you?! Get back here!" He scrambled out of the tree and set out after her, fuming. "You want a confrontation, I'll give you a confrontation! Hilda Bianca, drag your saggy…"
"I would watch your tongue if I were you," her voice hissed from right beside him as he felt a dagger at his throat. He stiffened, cutting off immediately. "Good. Now come quietly and don't make this more difficult than it 'as to be."
LotR
The celebration was still underway. It had gone late into the night. It had been going on nightly since the victory, pausing only to be dark and sombre again when the King under the Mountain was laid to rest along with his nephews. Once that was done, though, it was fair game, and the people of Esgaroth and Dale relished in this victory. Smaug was dead, the orcs were driven away, and there was peace between men, elves, and dwarves once more. For however long that would last. Bard was making his way through the crowds after having sent his children to bed. He had duties, now, to tend to. It had become a mutual understanding amongst the people of Laketown—of Dale and Esgaroth now, for finally their home was restored to them, and plans to rebuild Esgaroth were underway—that he would become the new Master, Lord of Dale. A king in his own right, he supposed, though he did not want any such title. He was a more humble man than that.
"Bard!" a voice called.
He turned and smiled. "Percy," he greeted, taking his old friend's hand and clapping a hand on his shoulder. The two put their foreheads together briefly then drew apart. "I'm glad to see you well."
"I'm glad for it too," Percy replied, chuckling. "I had no doubts you'd pull through. Was me I wasn't certain about. Too old for fighting, my boy, much too old." He looked around. "This place will need a lot of work still," he remarked.
"With the trade between Mirkwood, Dale, Esgaroth, and Erebor re-established, it will soon be a great city once more," Bard said.
"It's already shaping up to be just that. So the trade treaties have been agreed upon, then?" Percy asked.
"It is being discussed between King Thranduil, Dain, and myself. They are willing, for the most part, to be our allies and aid us in our establishing ourselves once more," Bard assured.
"King Thranduil, then, has come to have a grudging respect for you," Percy acknowledged.
"For us," Bard corrected. "Dale is not mine alone."
"Then we must do all we can to keep the Elven King's respect," Percy said, nodding.
Bard nodded back. "We will manage it. Do not stress now, friend. Enjoy yourself."
Percy began to relax and smile. That smile fell quickly, though, and he gasped, looking passed Bard towards something. Fearing a surprise attack, Bard quickly turned. He started, eyes widening, on seeing who was coming towards them. "Hilda!" he exclaimed in delight. Immediately he and Percy raced across the distance between them and the two men embraced her.
"Oh Miss Bianca, when we couldn't find you in the crowds we feared you had been killed!" Percy exclaimed. The two men drew back from her.
"Humph, I 'eld my own as well as any man," she replied.
"Then where did you go?" Bard questioned.
"To track a rat," Hilda answered, glaring scathingly behind her. "Look who I found lingering in the wilderness and getting 'imself into all sorts of panic. Bah, wouldn't 'ave made it through the night. Should 'ave left 'im for the spiders."
Bard and Percy looked quickly over. Grimacing, a figure stepped into sight. Their eyes widened. "Alfrid Lickspittle!" Percy exclaimed.
Bard's eyes hardened. "Coward," he said to the man.
"Oh bite me," Alfrid grumbled. "Well then let's get this over with. Arrest me, try me, whatever the bloody 'ell it is you intend to do."
Bard smirked coldly. "Alfrid, if you were worth the breath it would take to execute you, I would have done it already," he replied.
"It's me youth all over again, bullied and pushed around by the big shots," Alfrid snidely sneered.
"And you gave, albeit more subtly, as much as you got. Get him some food," Bard commanded. He felt a brief pang of guilt. They had been quite cruel to Alfrid at that, he and the other boys of their age. He wished he could feel guilty about it, but given what the man became… Of course that could have perhaps been because of their treatment of him. This time he inwardly cringed, but there was little time to feel fault at the moment. Not to mention holding that sensation for very long at all was a task in futility. Alfrid was… not exactly likeable.
"Come here, you," Percy coldly said, roughly taking Alfrid's arm and leading him off towards the food as the townsfolk began registering he was there and glaring bitterly at him. "Oh get over it, he's no spectacle!" Percy ordered them. They turned back to what they were doing, paying little more attention to the cowardly traitor. They were all accustomed to Alfrid by now. Really, little he did surprised them anymore. He couldn't get any slimier than they already knew him to be. Cowardly actions were really just another day in the life and whatnot.
Alfrid, eating, took to admiring the mass of gold and such that he had taken with him. He was relieved he hadn't dropped it. It was his, all his! He just had to keep his newfound riches to a gross worth that stayed more plentiful than what the rest of the dregs in this disease infested dump of a ruin would gain when the gold started 'flowing like a river' down the mountain. His concern, right now, was whether he'd be allowed to even stay after his running away. He doubted it, but at least this time when he was banished he would have an idea of how to go about it. Said idea was primarily avoid Mirkwood Forest, but still! It was a work in progress. Give him a break. Not that he'd have much of one before this incident came to trial.
LotR
Hilda, Bard, and Percy were gathered together, watching Alfrid from a distance. "We should send 'im on his merry way again. He's got no place with us," Percy said.
"He was born and raised on the lake," Bard replied. "He has as much a right to Dale and Esgaroth as anyone else."
"It's not that, Bard. Even if 'e could be allowed to stay, it's possible the people would riot. Not against you, but against 'im," Percy said. "Besides, our law says he can't be allowed to come back. Not after what he did."
"I do not intend to leave him to die in the wilderness," Bard said.
"It's all that can be done," Percy replied.
"We already nearly killed 'im once. The townspeople would do anything to 'ave 'is 'ide in their 'ands again," Hilda snidely sneered in Alfrid's direction. "I say let Bard allow 'im to stay regardless. Whenever things get tough, 'e can be there for us to let out our anger on."
"If he stays, he will not be subject to that persecution. Not even him, though Valar know he deserves it," Bard replied.
"If 'e stays 'ere, at least make 'is life a living 'ell," Hilda said.
"I'm sure you'll cover that just fine," Bard said to her, smiling.
"Right I will," Hilda replied.
"You are not understanding, neither of you. What's done is done. Alfrid can't be given leniency. I'm sorry, Bard. All that can be done is to send 'im away again," Percy said.
"No it isn't," Hilda grumbled.
"Hilda?" Percy asked. An explanation would be helpful to have.
"'E's keepin' that money you let 'im get away with, isn't 'e?" she asked.
"Yes. But what does that have to do with…?" Bard began.
"It don't. I'm back to the subject of Alfrid's fate now. You 'eard the sayin' 'appy wife makes for a 'appy life?" Hilda asked. "Insert the opposite of 'appy in that rhyme."
"What are you getting at?" Percy asked.
"By law he can't be allowed to stay… But by law there's also a way around that. 'E's well off enough to provide for a wife. As it stands, that is 'is only chance at bein' able to stay 'ere. Marriage. If someone from the city is willin' to marry 'im, it would bind 'im 'ere by law. That union trumps the banishment laws. Otherwise 'e's as good as dead," Hilda said.
"What woman would marry him?" Percy dryly questioned. He and Bard smirked knowingly at each other, stifling chuckles.
"Good point. We'll figure it out when it comes to it," Hilda answered. "If no one does, the worst that can 'appen is 'e gets 'imself tossed out again. 'Ardly a loss." With that the three separated.
LotR
"Your fate has been decided, Alfrid Lickspittle," Bard announced a few days later when the agreement on Alfrid's punishment had been reached.
"Yes sire," Alfrid said, desperately trying to get into the suck-up mode in a last ditch hope that it would earn him some leniency.
"By law I cannot allow you to remain. I'm sorry. You are to leave, first thing in the morning…" Bard began.
"Now wait a minute…" Alfrid began.
"Or…" Bard cut off. Alfrid became silent, curious but at the same time apprehensive. "Or you may keep the money and remain here. But there is a condition."
"What condition?" Alfrid questioned.
"Marriage," Bard replied.
"You're pretty enough, but I'm afraid I don't lean that way, sire," Alfrid replied, smirking tauntingly at Bard.
Bard started and blinked. Percy and some of the subjects snickered. Bard blushed in embarrassment. "Not to me!" he sharply shot. "To a woman of the village."
"What woman?" Alfrid asked.
"Whichever will have you," Bard answered. Alfrid cringed and looked out over the crowd. None of the women looked for even a second as if they'd consider being with him if the whole of the treasure of Erebor was offered to them. "It seems the second option is not boding well for you," Bard said to Alfrid.
"Oh shove it up your…" Alfrid began.
"Oh bloody 'ell, I'll take 'im," a woman said. Alfrid stiffened and literally went white. As in so white he could have blended in with the snow. No. No! They wouldn't. Not her. He spun around, gawking in horror.
"Hilda Bianca!?" he exclaimed in horror.
"Hilda?!" Bard asked in shock.
"Have you lost your mind?" Percy questioned, much more direct in his line of questioning.
"Well it ain't like I've got any other prospects in future. Every man in this forsaken community who isn't married is either a widower with too many children to count—no offense, Bard—a poor slob begging on the streets, a fisherman hardly scraping by with enough to feed 'imself let alone a wife—no offense Percy—elderly—again, no offence Percy—a child, or intending to leave the moment opportunity presents," Hilda replied.
Percy and Bard started, looking at her in shock. "You're willing to marry Alfrid Lickspittle?" Bard doubtfully asked.
"I'm willin' to marry 'is gold," Hilda replied, smirking wickedly.
"You sneaky wench. You had this all planned out!" Percy exclaimed in realization. "That's why you suggested it!"
"Oh come on. It was obvious Bard wasn't going to make 'is life misery in itself if 'e were allowed to stay, and if 'e went all that gold would go with 'im, so obviously the task of making 'im suffer and keeping that money in the city 'as to fall to someone else," Hilda replied. "'E's rich, I'm provided for, and I get to torment 'im day in and day out until 'e wishes the orcs or trolls or spiders 'ad got 'im. Meanwhile, I get fat off of the food 'is money can buy and spoiled with the clothes and whatnot."
"Hilda, are you sure?" Bard asked.
"Will you marry me, Bard?" she demanded. "I isn't going to deny I've 'ad feelings for you a long while now."
"M-me?!" Bard exclaimed.
"Take her!" Alfrid pled.
"Hilda, not that I wouldn't want to, because I have certainly tossed the idea around, but I just… It is too soon. I have not even fully gotten over the death of my wife, and as to love…" Bard began.
"Yes, yes, the old story. Never love again and all that. I don't care for love, I want the benefits marriage brings," Hilda said. "You, Percy? You want to marry me?"
"Were I twenty or so years younger I would have delighted—you're a real beauty, Miss Bianca, under that dirt and grime—but I'm married, and I love her very dearly," Percy replied.
"Well that settles it, then. Marry us up already. And make sure, my dear Alfrid, that your will is set up to reflect a respectable marriage," she cruelly taunted. Oh how she loved every minute of this. She utterly despised, hated, and loathed—realizing they all meant the same thing—him. She could think of no worse torment for the weasel than this, and apparently he thought the same, because the next instant he was begging Bard to banish him or execute him or feed him to the spiders, even throwing in the offer of Bard taking the gold as well on top of it all. Hilda listened in sick satisfaction. It was taking her all to refrain from wickedly laughing in his face and spitting upon him.
"I like this arrangement," Percy murmured to Bard as Alfrid continued to plead. "He is punished. Severely. He'll still be welcome back in the city, but…"
"Enough said," Bard said, smirking. "Congratulations on your pending marriage, Alfrid. I'm afraid in this instance you have no choice." Inwardly he was laughing his head off. This was just too rich, the situation that Alfrid was now jammed into. He almost considered marrying Hilda for coming up with it. "Have fun, my friend," Bard said. Alfrid screamed to the skies.