The Life of a Stable Hand

Orders

It was near noon when Grima Wormtongue walked into the stables. He looked around, but did not see anyone.

"Stablehand?" he called to the girl who worked there, his favorite punching bag when he was stressed.

"Yes, Master Wormtongue," the girl answered, stepping out of a stall and into the center aisle.

"No matter what anyone else tells you, do not let Lady Éowyn leave," he ordered, turning to leave.

"Yes, Master Wormtongue," she said.

Grima turned back to the girl, surprised at her answer. Testing her, he commanded, "If Éomer does not take his leave by sunset tonight, come find me."

"Yes, Master Wormtongue," she said, obedient as ever.

"Why do you not glare like other servants?" Grima questioned, stepping closer. "I just gave you orders above your king."

"There are many I must follow, sir," she replied honestly.

"Stablehand, have I ever hurt you?" Grima asked, though he did not mean physically. He knew very well that he had hurt her. The bruises on her arms, legs, and face were his doing. He meant emotionally, and she knew this.

"I cannot say," the girl said. Servants were not supposed to share thoughts and opinions with people of higher rank. It just wasn't done.

"Have I?" Grima pressed.

"Yes," she wispered, afraid of what would happen if she did not answer.

"I must go," Wormtongue said suddenly.

"Master Wormtongue-" she started, but stopped short. Servants do not speak unless spoken to. The most important rule around Wormtongue.

Grima turned hard eyes on the girl. "Yes?" he questioned, giving the girl permission to speak.

She relaxed a little, saying quietly, "My name is Alana."

Without another word, Grima Wormtongue walked out of the stables, eyes cold and glaring.

...

Not long after Wormtongue left, Lady Éowyn, the niece of King Thèoden, came into the stables.

"Stablehand?" the Lady called nervously.

"Yes, Lady Éowyn?" The girl asked.

"Were you here when Thèodred returned this morning?" Éowyn questioned.

"Yes, Lady," Alana answered.

"Who else was here?" Éowyn demanded to know.

"King Thèoden, Master Wormtongue, and my sister, Alena," Alana answered.

"What happened?" The older girl asked.

"Your uncle decreed that only Master Wormtongue shall tend to his son, saying he trusted no one else," Alana explained.

"Oh, no! No, this is not good," the Lady wispered worriedly.

"Lady, what is wrong?" Alana asked, though she already knew.

"I fear for the life of my dear cousin," Lady Éowyn answered.

Alana paused, wary to share more information. I am forbidden! He will kill me if I am caught, she tried to tell herself, but she said the words anyway. "I know where he was taken," she said quietly, praying no one else could hear.

"Will you take me to him?" the Lady practically begged.

"It is against my orders," Alana explained.

"Please," Lady Éowyn pleaded.

"Yes, my Lady, but not now," Alana said, giving in. Following orders, as she always did.

"Of course," Éowyn agreed. "We must wait until Wormtongue has left him."

...

"Stablehand?" called Éomer, the older brother of Éowyn.

"Yes, Master Éomer?" asked Alana, not forgetting that the man was supposed to be leaving soon.

"Have you seen Wormtongue?" Éomer questioned the girl. He was here often to help tend to his horse, but still often confused her with her sister, who looked almost exactly like her.

"Yes, Master Éomer. Twice this morning," she said.

"Twice?" the man demanded.

"Yes," Alana confirmed. "Once this morning, when the prince returned, and again when he came to say that you were to leave by sunset."

"Yes," Éomer agreed. "He wishes for me to leave. He has banished all of Rohan's best Riders. Prepare my horse, please. Did Wormtongue say anything else?"

"Yes. Lady Éowyn is not permitted to leave," Alana said while going to get the man's saddle.

Éomer nodded. "Stablehand, I must ask you a favor," he said. "Please, if you are able, keep my sister safe."

"Yes, Master Éomer," Alana answered. "I will do my best. My sister, too."

"Your sister?" Eomer questioned. "Alena, my twin. She works in the kitchens, sir."

"Then what is your name?" Éomer asked.

"Alana," the girl said, finishing preparing the man's horse.

"Yes, thank you," Éomer said kindly. "Well, I am afraid I must be going."

"Please be careful," Alana said in farewell.