Second and Last Chance
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"Three days and not a word," Hilda complained to her friends as they were all down washing clothes. "Not one solitary word."
"Don't be surprised, my dear. It is Alfrid," Percy's wife said.
"Hilda, did you know your 'usband could look so good?" one of her other friends questioned. "Why we didn't even believe it was 'im for a while."
"I was as surprised as any of you," Hilda replied, rolling her eyes. She was growing tired of the town gossip—especially the gossip of the women—being how well her husband could clean up. No, she wasn't jealous, just bugged. It was a shallow thing, he was still the same traitor he was before, after all, only looked nicer. "On the bright side, probably some woman from one of the settlements will fall for him and I won't 'ave to ever worry about seeing me 'usband again."
"Ooh, Hilda, that man over yonder is looking at you," one of her friends teased. Hilda glanced warily up. One of the shopkeepers, she noted, one of the few single ones. He was good looking, she'd always thought so. He'd been flirting with her the past while. She'd tolerated it, been flattered even. Once upon a time she might have even considered pursuing him in turn. Except now she had a point to prove to Alfrid. She would be loyal whether he liked it or not, so she smiled impersonally at the man and went back to washing.
"Doesn't 'e know I'm a married woman?" Hilda grumbled.
"Everyone does, dear. And everyone pities you it," another of her friends said. "Some of the men 'ave gotten it into their heads that they must rescue you from a loveless marriage or some other such thing, and whisk you away to a life much better than this one you 'ave now."
"Wildly romantic when you put it that way," Hilda replied, smirking. "And true. The marriage is definitely loveless, but the perks make up for it."
"Are perks worth your happiness, my dear?" Percy's wife questioned
"Mum, I 'aven't 'ad a 'appy day for as long as I can remember," Hilda replied. "The only difference between now and before is that now I 'ave a man to cuddle up with on cold nights."
"The man is Alfrid Lickspittle," one of her friends deadpanned.
"That 'e is, but a man nonetheless," Hilda replied. "I've never been in love, never will."
"Is he good in bed?" one of her friends asked, smirking mischievously.
Hilda chuckled. "'E is," she answered, but she wasn't about to give them any more information than that. "But we despises each other so that don't 'appen often, and won't 'appen when 'e gets 'ome if I doesn't receive word from 'im soon. At least a letter saying where 'e is."
"Hilda Bianca," the voice of the courier who usually came to town said. She dropped everything in a heartbeat—which was surprising even to her let alone her friends—and ran to the man, snatching the letter from his hands and looking it over.
"Bah," she said. It wasn't from him. She opened it up. A bill or taxes no doubt. Sure enough it was. She harrumphed. She'd need to pay this quick. "Thank you," she muttered to the courier, turning to head back to the other women.
"Oh, there was one more thing," the courier said. She raised an eyebrow, turning around. The courier pulled out a necklace. Hilda's eyes widened. Was that a dark Emerald? "From your 'usband. He forgot to write anything so bought up the first expensive looking piece of jewelry he could and sent it off with me. He told me to tell you he hopes it strangles you in the night."
Fury crossed her features and she snatched it. "Well the next time you see 'im, tell 'im I 'ope 'e falls off 'is bleedin' 'orse and breaks his wretched neck. And 'e'd better 'ave a letter next time," she shot. The courier stammered out an agreement and was quick to get away from the livid recipient. Harrumphing, she clasped the necklace around her throat. It was beautiful, she noted. Nodding in satisfaction, she went back to join the other women. "The bad news is 'e's alive. The good news is I got jewelry." They began 'oohing' and 'aahing' over the piece.
LotR
Alfrid listened to the courier's message in annoyance and anger. "She 'opes I break me neck, does she? Bollocks to 'er! You tell 'er she can go drown in the lake. And tell 'er I know about that ruddy shopkeeper eyeing 'er. She isn't the only one in contact with me, you know. So are Bard and Percy," he said. The courier sighed and nodded as Alfrid gave him over the letter. "Tell 'er, too, that I 'ope she runs off with 'im. I can set meself up in Esgaroth, Dale, or one of these 'ere settlements just fine. Love is for the birds anyway, so she can 'ave it. Better she 'ave love than me gold."
"I'll tell her," the courier said. Though he doubted she would like it. Nonetheless he left with the message. Alfrid turned back to his current task. Alright, so as of yet he hadn't found a steady job, but he was certainly getting a lot of side ones that paid a good bit of coin. Maybe he should have taken Bard's advice and gone with the teaching spiel. He wouldn't be bothering with these side jobs either if not for the face his wife would be livid if he came home empty handed, and he just wasn't in the mood to deal with that.
LotR
Hilda fumed at the spoken message the courier delivered. "Tell 'im I'm damn sure a good number of women 'ave been looking 'im over as well! And tell 'im I'm counting the days until he reports 'ow many 'e's bedded. Maybe I will run off with the shopkeeper! Then 'e'll be sorry 'e will!" she said. She took the letter that came with it and read it through. It told her where he was now, what little odd jobs he'd been doing and what aspects looked more promising for more permanent work. He wrote of the places he was seeing and the sorts of people there, and the obstacles he ran into on the road. Which weren't many. Alfrid was good at avoiding danger. Was the coward's blood in him it was. She sighed. "Come back in an hour and I'll 'ave a message for you," she said to the courier. The courier nodded and left to get something to eat and drink.
Hilda finished reading the letter then sat down to practice her writing. It would be a short reply, but he'd understand why. He knew where she was in her writing. She wasn't great at it yet, and there would be errors, but at least it would be something. She wrote to him, telling him that the teaching position was still open and she'd much prefer it if he took it rather than go gallivanting about the land. She was surprised herself that she'd written as much. Every moment away from him was paradise, or so she believed, so she'd have thought she'd prefer him to be gone weeks on end… But truth be told it seemed empty without him around to bicker and snark with. She was surprised she wrote that bit down, that it seemed empty without him around to fight. Would probably surprise him too. Closest thing to anything affectionate or romantic she'd ever said to him or ever would for that matter. She paused a moment, starting. Was she actually missing the wanker? Nah, that wasn't it. She shook her head and finished it off, threatening him that he'd better bring gold home when he came back, and that he'd better be in one piece too for… For what reason? Why did she want him back in one piece? So she could rip him down herself? She'd go with that. She finished off the letter. When the courier came, she sent it off with him.
LotR
Alfrid read the letter with a critical eye. It wasn't clean, it wasn't filled with great grammar or spelling, but all in all it was better than he'd thought it would end up being. He read it again, this time for the message. He started at the admittance it felt empty without him there to fight with. He had to say he was… touched wasn't the word, but more flattered. Even if only slightly. It was about that time as well that he felt a twisting in his gut. What was this? Hunger. No… His eyes slowly widened and he blinked. He missed her as well, he realized. Ugh, heck no! He didn't give a damn about what she did or being away from her. He was loving this time apart from her, and with his appearance change he was getting plenty a look from young maidens. He approved of those too. Nice to have them without worrying about Hilda harping on him and saying he'd be disloyal first.
Speaking of disloyalty, damn the shopkeeper, he dryly found himself thinking on recalling her verbal message that maybe she would run off with him. You know what, he didn't care. They deserved each other. Still, why did he feel suddenly more eager to return home all the sooner? Wasn't jealousy, but it was… was something. He determined he'd head home in two more days—and it would take two more on top of that to arrive, because he'd extended his stay a bit in this town for the generous pay for menial tasks—and wrote as much in his letter back to her. There was no verbal message this time.
LotR
Hilda was reading through his letter. "From your husband, Ms. Bianca?" a voice said. She looked over curiously and blushed faintly on seeing who it was. The shopkeeper who'd been doing an awful lot to try and stay close to her lately.
She smiled cordially at him. "It is. He's due back in four more days," she replied.
"I was led to believe Alfrid would only be gone a week," the shopkeeper said.
"Yes, well things change, doesn't they? Said 'e'd extended 'is stay in one of the settlements because the people there was generous with their pay," she said.
"I see… You didn't find it odd?" the shopkeeper asked.
"You 'inting at 'is 'aving an affair?" Hilda asked bluntly.
"Why else would he stay?" the shopkeeper questioned.
"Because the greedy rat couldn't get as well as 'old a woman no matter 'ow good looking 'e got. They'd see the truth of what 'e is soon enough, and no self-respecting female would stay with 'im. Excluding me, of course. I, though, was in it for 'is gold," she answered.
"Is there no love, Hilda?" the shopkeeper questioned.
"Hah! Who needs love?" she replied.
"It is not a matter of needing it. It's a matter of being blessed by it, touched by it, deserving of it… I believe you are deserving of love, Miss Bianca. Why do you trap yourself in a marriage where there is none?"
"The perks are 'andy," she replied.
"But is gold worth your happiness?" the shopkeeper questioned. Hilda sighed. Her friends had asked the same thing. It was getting old and clichéd now.
LotR
Hilda looked up at him ponderously, finally stopping long enough to listen and think up her response. "What does you want from me, Jorgen?" she finally questioned.
"I want to see you happy and satisfied," he answered.
"Why can no one believe I'm satisfied with Alfrid?" she asked.
"Because he is the man who dressed like an elderly woman to simply try and get away with not fighting in a battle for his own home?" the shopkeeper deadpanned. "And he is the man who shoved aside women and children in a desperate attempt to get himself to safety in the grand hall as well as shouting to abandon the crippled. And he is the man who hid masses of gold coins in his dress's bust. And he is the man who made life miserable for the people of Esgaroth under the master's orders. And he is the man with not a redeeming quality to his name. And he is a man who is not even fully a man. And he is not…" Jorgen trailed off.
"Not what?" Hilda questioned, raising an eyebrow. The rest of it she had already known, of course, and every single point was a good argument against her being with him, but this last one that the shopkeeper left unfinished had her curious.
The shopkeeper shook his head. "It is the pettiest reason of all, Ms. Bianca, and I'm ashamed to finish the thought," he answered.
"Well out with it, man. Come on now, spit it out," Hilda said.
"He is not one of us," the man answered.
"What does you mean?" Hilda questioned, raising an eyebrow.
"Ms. Bianca, do you not know what your husband is?" the man questioned in surprise. Whether it was feigned or not was hard to tell. Hilda looked lost. "He is an Easterling, or a Haradrim, no one is certain. Perhaps a mixture of both. I am near sure he is a mixture of both."
Hilda started, but she couldn't say she was surprised. Not when she remembered the taste of spices in his mouth when he kissed her. The sorts only found amongst the Easterlings and Haradrims. "If I recall it right, 'is mother was just like you or me," Hilda said.
"His mother, perhaps, but not his father," Jorgen said. "Can you not see it in him? In his looks, especially, and his actions. The way he behaves, the cowardice and treachery, it is all a giveaway."
"I'd be careful if I was you, Jorgen, 'bout who you say things like that in front of," Hilda warned, catching sight of one of the few Haradrims in this city.
"It is what they are. It is their nature to self-serve," Jorgen unapologetically replied.
"And that's presumptuous. What does 'is being an Easterling, Haradrim, us mix 'ave to do with my satisfaction with being 'is wife?" she demanded.
"He cannot be trusted," Jorgen said.
"'E never could. Isn't nothing I can't handle," Hilda replied. She turned to leave.
"Should he try to hurt you, Ms. Bianca, please come to me, or to Bard, or to someone," the shopkeeper pled.
She paused. "'Urt me?" she questioned. Of course he'd come damn near to striking her down after Esgaroth was burned down and he'd tried to get a blanket from her once out of the water, but she got the feeling that wasn't the sort of 'hurt' the shopkeeper meant.
"Should he try… Anything rougher than you welcome," the shopkeeper said.
"You mean if he tries to rape me," Hilda deadpanned, folding her arms. "Now hear you me, Jorgen Kinderbark. I could fight away Alfrid Lickspittle any day of the week. I always keep me knife near, and besides, 'e's too self-loving to risk putting 'imself in 'arms way to try and cop a feel undesired."
"What do you know of the Easterlings and Haradrims, Ms. Bianca?" the shopkeeper questioned.
"More than enough to know why you're concerned about the whole assault angle. Well I isn't worried so you gots no business fearing for me either," Hilda said.
"Nevertheless, should he ever determine to follow in his father's footsteps, come to me. I will help you," the shopkeeper vowed.
"Follow 'is father's footsteps?" Hilda tentatively questioned.
"Ah here I go. I have spoken too much. That is a question for your husband," he answered. Bowing to her, he went back to his duties subtly smiling. Seed of doubt planted, she turned and walked away lost in thought and unease.
