Welcome back, everyone!
This chapter made me realize how utterly short my chapters truly are, but I've written up to the halfway point like this, so no point in changing now XD Enjoy the read nonetheless!
Let's roll!
Today had to be the first time Alfred woke up by having fallen out of bed. Quickly getting on his hands and knees out of startle, he desperately fumbled around in the dark for the clock. What in the world was even the time? What if it was way past his waking time due to habit? After all, he was getting up extra early today, so could it be possible that-
RRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR-
Like the little attention seeker it was, the clock shrieked loud enough that Alfred jumped once more landing on his butt, before quickly crawling toward it to shut it off. With shaking hands and rapid breathing, he grabbed the clock from his nightstand and slammed the snooze button so hard he knocked it out of his own grasp. Now on the floor, the clock's face met Alfred, and they both stared at each other with blank expressions. When the world finally settled around him and Alfred could tell left from right and up from down, he released a heavy sigh before he pushed himself to his feet. Though seemingly never running out of energy, he could swear on his collection of university rejection letters that these twenty seconds alone had drained 40 percent of his energy storage. Alfred sloppily hinged at his hips to pick up the fallen clock, put it on his nightstand, finally able to exit his bedroom to get ready… After finding some clothes, of course.
"Huh, fifteen minutes," Alfred muttered under his breath as he opened the door leading to the crisp morning air. He had spent much less time getting ready than he had expected yesterday, which meant the current time was four-forty-five and Alfred had one hour and fifteen minutes to get to his first job of the day. He had found out quickly that breakfast this early wasn't ideal, so he had brought it as a lunch later when he'd be on the train back. Thus, he had set foot outside the house earlier than necessary, which meant he had time to linger in the bakery before time became urgent.
Opening the door, the bell rang and welcomed him into the yellow warmth of the bakery. He tapped the tips of his boots to the floor to dust off whatever was hiding underneath the soles, before entering and closing the door behind him. He uttered a cheerful, yet gentle "Guten Morgen" before approaching the counter. He craned his neck to see if anyone was hiding by the staircase in the back, earning his third jump of fright when the tall and sturdy German peeked up from behind the counter.
"So there is someone here!" Alfred laughed before leaning over the counter slightly in hopes that he could immerse himself even more in the smell of baking bread.
"Good morning, Alfred," said Ludwig, the shopkeeper, as he straightened up, "Are you working early today?"
"Yessir!" Alfred disclosed keenly before leaning back and fetching a few coins from his pocket, "To Hartlepool. Roundtrip ticket, bitte!"
Since the bakery was the closest public facility to the train station, one could also purchase train tickets. Now this was something that used to greatly confuse travelers, and Alfred could recall that one summer three years ago when he and Lily had to make and put up a sign outside the bakery that train tickets had to be purchased there, as well as a sign at the train station that said "No, you can't buy tickets here. Go to the bakery with the scary-looking German (he's very nice) and he'll happily aid you :D". Though it had started as a joke, they ended up writing it and it remained one of Alfred's most memorable achievements to this day.
"If you see Gil, tell him I don't want him back," Ludwig said as he slid the train ticket across the counter toward Alfred. The younger laughed before stuffing the ticket in some random pocket. Ah, brotherly love.
"Will do, sir."
Eventually Alfred stood and waited on the train to arrive, in the company of no one. He had stood outside the bakery after the delightful small talk to appreciate his last minutes in the lovely smell and, had to be reminded of his duties by the honk from afar. Now he followed the train with his eyes as it glided across the empty landscape, honking yet again as if to make sure everyone acknowledged its presence. And if that wasn't enough, yet another honk sang through the February skies, probably waking up the inhabitants of the town that hadn't woken up by the first two. It was a rare occurrence however that someone honked more than once, but today was most probably a bit special. If Alfred didn't know better, the train conductor today had to be…
About five minutes after Alfred had found a seat in the empty train and his body was threatening to doze off, someone screamed into his ear, "Good morning, Schlafmütze!" Looking up in a moment of surprise, Alfred confirmed his intuition; Silvery white hair and eyes a color that wobbled in between crimson and fuchsia, not at all like his brother in the bakery, a uniform-clad Gilbert laughed loudly and heartily.
"Gil!" Alfred exclaimed, his drowsiness wearing off as quickly as cheap anesthesia, as he sat erect in his seat. He intended to ask about his whereabouts these last two weeks, but decided to snarkily comment on the hair that had grown a bit since last time instead.
"Can you believe that I didn't find a single hairdresser anywhere," Gilbert said and leaned against the wall before muttering, "Eliza better do my awesome hair justice when I get back."
"Oh!" Alfred exclaimed quietly before eagerly leaning forward in his seat, "Did you know that she cut her h-"
He stopped mid-sentence. Alfred wondered if maybe it'd be better if Gilbert found out on his own. An urge so strong that he felt it like a knot in his stomach to see his reaction dangerously tempted him to inform Gilbert here and now that Elizabeta had lost her princess-like curls, but Alfred got the better of it and decided against. If Gilbert were to react to her new hairdo in the way most people anticipated, Alfred would definitely hear it no matter where in town he was.
"She what?" Gilbert inquired, crossing his arms.
"I meant- She got really sick recently," Alfred said as he leaned back in his seat again, "Because she drank from the lake."
The German let out another vigorous guffaw, clutching his stomach and wiping a tear before holding onto his knees and leaning forward slightly.
"For reals, man," Gilbert squeezed in between small fits of chuckles.
"Yeah."
Apparently, Gilbert hadn't believed Alfred the first time, because now he stood stiff like a walking stick with eyebrows raised. His smile had faded and become more reminiscent of a ruler.
"Wait, for real?"
"Yeah."
The two fell into a solemn, gloomy silence in respect for their fellow townsperson. Perhaps most sympathetic of the two was Gilbert, as he too had been stupid enough to drink from the lake once (multiple times) during his residency. It had caused him various stomach issues, bipolar fevers and thinking he was going to die, which displeased him greatly because he'd rather not his death be remembered because of diarrhea. Then again, unlike Elizabeta who was usually smart but happened to make a wrong decision, Gilbert's stupidity was a constant which meant that there was endless potential for him to make another great mistake very soon.
"She better recover soon or else I'm gonna grow a mullet, which is totally un-awesome," Gilbert sighed eventually. He straightened his posture where he stood and adjusted the Prussian blue cap that matched his uniform, before reaching out his hand toward Alfred.
"Ticket."
Though surprised by the sudden change in atmosphere, Alfred fetched his train ticket from his coat's pocket and held it out between the tips of his index and middle finger. Gilbert chipped it.
"Say, what are you even saving up money for? If you're willing to get up before the goddamn sun, you gotta have some image in mind?" Gilbert asked.
"Wouldn't you like to know," Alfred said and smirked secretively.
It was clear Gilbert wanted to be let in on the fun, but suddenly Alfred remembered something. There was a brief silence.
"Also, Lud doesn't want you back."
Gilbert wheezed.
"I'll make my return so awesome he'll even less want me there."
A little more than an hour later, including walking distance, Alfred arrived at the farm that he visited every now and then to help with sowing or harvesting. Familiar with the process, he needed not make his presence known to the owners of the farm but would of course not pass an opportunity to greet them if he saw them. With a big basket in hand, as well as gloves that would keep his hands clean and warm, the blonde stripling energetically made his way to where the leeks grew. If he were lucky, perhaps the owners would give him a little basket of assorted crops again when he was done.
Not unlike other times Alfred had been to the farm, he didn't catch a single glimpse of the owners until his work was done. When he dropped the last leek into the basket, he wiped the sweat from his forehead with his forearm, checking if he smelled funny yet in the process. He got to his feet and made a deep backbend, rejoicing at the delicious cracks from his spine. He picked up the basket and walked across the acre toward the house. Once there, he placed the basket in a shed right outside the entrance before ringing the doorbell. Like always, it took some time, but eventually a timid figure opened the door.
"Ertu búinn?" he said a bit stiffly, which Alfred presumed was shyness. Though he wasn't sure if the boy had asked a question or just made a general statement due to linguistic unintelligibility, he happily exclaimed a "I'm done, sir!" and gestured to the basket that was full of leeks. The boy nodded promptly before heading back inside, but not before telling Alfred "komdu inn". Closing the door gently behind him, Alfred looked around inside the rustic home. It had better insulation than his own house, and it was bigger, but the interior looked just as shabby. He had been inside this house once or twice before, and even if it was around two or three years ago, it didn't seem like anyone had tried to renovate. Apparently, no matter how rich someone was, there were simply some things that could never be shielded from the effects of war.
The boy returned to Alfred with a small, auburn basket. While keeping his distance, he reached the basket filled with parsnip, turnips, leeks, and Ashmead's kernel apples, as well as a little fabric pouch containing coins, forward. The poor boy's cheeks resembled an early sunrise, and Alfred couldn't help but slightly resent whoever had sent him in their stead.
"Þakka þér fyrir... Mik- mikla vinnu," he stuttered. Alfred gladly accepted the basket and gave the boy a little ruffle on his head. It wasn't necessary for him to understand the words to catch a vague idea of what the sentiment behind them was.
"Thanks, little man," he chirped before exiting the house with a little salute. With the sun finally above the horizon, Alfred marched contentedly across the acre with sunshine lighting up his eyes. Although a bit tired and probably starting to smell like the hard worker he was, he headed to the train station and waited for the train en route back to Smalltown. There was still lots of work to get done today.
Translations:
- "Guten Morgen". German, "good morning".
- "Bitte". German, "please".
- "Schlafmütze". German, "night cap". Figuratively it means "sleepyhead" :D
- "Ertu búinn?". Icelandic, "are you finished?"
- "Komdu inn". Icelandic, "come in". Literally translates to "come you in".
- "Þakka þér fyrir mikla vinnu". Icelandic, "thank you for your hard work".
I just want to say that I check the languages as well as I can, but I sadly do not know many Icelandic nor German people to fact check for me, so apologies for any mistakes.
Seeya next week, folks!