The Prophecy

Eavesdropping

"That. Selfish. Two-faced. Abusive. Piece of filth!" Zarina seethed in syllables as she struck the logs with the axe, chopping her anger out on tonight's firewood.

Mr. Windsor rounded the corner of his barn and examined the scene in front of him, trying to form a picture of the scene in his mind's eye. A small, petite girl taking her anger out on innocent pieces of wood was not a sight one would come across every day.

"I take it last night didn't go well." He spurred on a conversation. His face held a hint of sympathy for the girl with the abusive stepfather, but he kept it well hidden underneath his stoic expression, "Whatever he did to you, I hope you put your training to good use and hit him with a frying pan."

She paused with axe mid-air, "Oh, it's worse, Mr. Windsor. So much worse. He sold me!"

"Sold you?"

"To a merchant looking for a wife for his son!" she threw the axe down in frustration, "If I recall correctly, the contract clearly stated that I will be a wife to a Wallach Whitby and will carry the next line of Whitby kin. It's preposterous! To be married to a man just to bare his children!" Zarina landed a hit on another log, chopping it in half in one blow. After that she was drained of energy and dropped the axe, falling to the grass with it.

Mr. Windsor, despite being blind, could feel the tension coming from her. Today would not be a good day to practise fighting and defence. He had a feeling she wouldn't go easy on him when she was like this. His subconsciously let his hand cover the scar on his shoulder. She was like this one day and he pushed her too far with their training. Zarina had no control over her anger and he was too late to block her sword. The blade went right through his left shoulder. Luckily the wound wasn't too big and with her help, he healed up quite quickly.

Zarina noticed the old man's presence next to her as he sat down on the grass. Even though he was known to be the grumpiest, rudest man in Bree, he has always shown some kind of kindness towards her when after her mother died. He was there when her stepfather raised his hand against her one night after drinking too much. He was there when her stepfather cursed at her when she didn't close the gate of the garden one night, allowing the hedgehogs and rabbits to eat all their vegetables. He was there when her stepfather did nothing to stop his drinking companions from feeling her up. Mr. Windsor didn't like people, but he sure as Valar cared about at least one.

"You're dreaming again, Zarina." He noted when hearing her silence, "What are you thinking?"

"That I've never been outside of Bree ever in my life." She answered, "That running away might be an option, but it also might be an option that will get me killed. I know nothing about surviving out there."

"But anything would be better than being married to a Wallach Whitby, wouldn't it?"

Even though his tone was grumpy, his words lingered in the air. Zarina thought about it. Would she rather spend her entire life as someone's wife and raise children, or would she rather take a risk and see what the world has to offer?

"I just need half a chance to get out of here, Mr. Windsor." She spoke softly, wishing out loud.

Zarina left home as noon drew near. Her work at home was done and her shift at the Prancing Pony would start in a few minutes. No doubt that her stepfather was already there, drinking himself to pulp and gambling away the little money she earned. Fortunately for her, he never paid much attention to her when she worked there. He hated being associated with her, for everyone knew her mother only married him to have someone support them and their farm. That was before he started getting comfortable with a woman doing all his dirty work and started drinking. Zarina had no idea why her mother chose him of all men. She was sure even a troll would make a better husband and stepfather!