- Chapter Three -
trusting the snake

I blinked. What had he said? Had I actually pestered the poor bloke long enough for him to agree with me?

It was shocking, yes, but I have never been one to find myself speechless. I thrust out my hand to him as he was turning away. "Shake on it. We're friends, shake on it."

He looked at my hand as if it was something horrifying and appalling, but his expression slowly changed to look up at me and on his face was neither a scowl or a frown, which was most unexpected. He took my hand and shook it, I noted on how weak his handshake was, and decided to mention it at a later date.

Releasing his hand, I smiled at him. "Never fear, Lord Wormtongue, this won't be painful in the least."

-

That was the beginning. The rest came and went easily, without a hitch, hardly.

-

It was probably the most obedient thing I've ever done in my life, but I stayed away from Gríma for the rest of the day and the day following, as he'd asked me to.

But of course two days anon and I was back to bumping into him quite often.

I knew that Gríma wasn't the type of person to pounce on, and I'd been lucky that I'd gotten away with what I'd forced him into so far, so I kept the friendship bit going slowly. After a few weeks Gríma was slowly getting used to me, though it hadn't taken me nearly as long to get used to him.

But then, I've always been prompt to adapt to things. I wasn't originally from Rohan. My father, Eru bless him, was of Aldburg and my mother of Gondor, and when I was very young we came to Rohan. My parents became very good friends of Éowyn and Éomer's parents, and were at absolutely all of their parties. Unfortunately my parents were a tad too wild and adventurous.

I was all set to become a noble woman of Rohan at thirteen, until my parents squandered all of my inheritance in one night and sorrowfully returned to Aldburg after making certain that my future as Éowyn's handmaiden was secured. Sweet of them, eh?

Washing dishes was not my responsibility as Éowyn's maid, but the poor lass who usually cleaned up after the King had his supper looked faint, so out of the goodness of my heart I took over for her. What a hard job that girl of ten had, I never knew how hard it was until I did it for her.

First, there was scrubbing the dishes- then along with that I had to mop the kitchen floor, wipe down the tables and put away all the food that the cooks had kindly left me on the counter tops. At the rate I was going I would never get any sleep.

My back was aching as I mopped the kitchen, and I was so wrapped up in dreaming about my comfortable bed and warm chambers that I didn't hear whoever came into the kitchen open the door. The footsteps came up behind me and I started, spinning around and swinging the mop like a mad person.

"Who is it?!" I yelled, batting the mop around and hoping to hit someone.

When I finally came to my senses, Gríma was standing just out of reach of the mop and looking at me as if I were demented. Along with his apparent concern for my sanity, he was attempting to hide a half loaf of bread and some cheese behind his back, looking a touch embarrassed that he'd been caught with it.

"Stop your vile racket, woman! You'll wake the whole of Rohan with that screech." Gríma hissed, glaring at me.

I forced myself to breathe, and pressed a hand to my chest as I steadied my breathing. "Perhaps you should stop sneaking up on people like you do. You frightened me."

"I tend to have that effect on people." Gríma said softly, regrettably. I wondered why he was still here, on all our previous meetings he'd tried to escape as quickly as possible. Perhaps I had frightened him too and that's why he didn't flee as usual.

As soon as this thought crossed my mind, Gríma began backing out of the kitchen and I made no move to stop him. Though I did raise a question, which he would most likely choose to ignore, "Do you often steal food from the kitchen in the middle of the night, or did you just wish to seek me out?"

Moving to pick up the mop where I had rested it against the table when he surprised me, out of the corner of my eye I could see Gríma staring at me, turned halfway to the door. I could tell he was working out an answer to this as he turned to face me and stopped hiding the goods behind his back.

"It is more likely, Matséona, that I would wish to avoid this sort of engagement, than go in quest of your presence." Gríma shot back, his voice a usual hushed whisper and his head cocked to the side slightly.

The smile I fixed on him was maddening to his sight, I was sure, all the more reason to use it in my defense. "You do not truly mean that, dear Gríma, do you?"

"Of course I do, girl!" Gríma hissed, "And you will call me Lord-" He broke off. I knew he hated the name Wormtongue, I knew it.

"Wormtongue, is the word you are seeking, is it not?"

Seething, Gríma was silent, his cold blue eyes narrowing into tiny menacing slits.

"Or shall I call you Lord Quiet-Tongue, for you do not seem to be ready with an answer?" I mused, pausing in my work and leaning on the mop. As I lifted my brows and waited for an answer, I wished there were more light in the drafty kitchen, for I could not see all of Gríma's expressions.

Gríma's fingers gripped the bread he was holding tighter, until I was sure it would crumble, "Call me what you wish, for if Eru is with me I shall not be troubled with your presence again."

With that and a looming stare, Gríma swept from the kitchen, leaving me to sigh and continue my work, hoping that it would not take too much of my sleeping time to finish.

-

"I would not bring it up lest I thought it was of grave importance, Matsi, you must be careful around that man. Lord Wormtongue is not to be trusted." Éowyn was darting around the room like a scared rabbit, pestering me as I prepared her newly washed sheets for sleeping in.

Whipping the sheet into the air and watching it float to the mattress, a smile flickered across my already cheerful face, "Then it is very agreeable that I do not put my trust in him, eh?"

Éowyn flinched. She had been trying to teach me to stop my habit of putting 'eh?' at the end of my sentences for some time now. I had picked up the custom from my father when he was alive and could not seem to stop it, so I smiled apologetically after it slipped again.

But Éowyn's annoyance with my grammar did not phase her from continuing in her quest to educate me in my friendship with the King's advisor. Darting after me as I went to the closet for one of the heavy woolen blankets she was fond of sleeping with, Éowyn's eyes were at their roundest, "The why do you insist on striving to claim friendship to the man?"

"Because he is-" Pausing, I tossed the blanket on the bed and bent to tuck in the sheets tightly, "-much more interesting than anyone else in the fort-" I stood, and took Éowyn's hands in my own, speaking dramatically, "-and it will only keep him from harassing you in the future!"

She knew my sarcasm when she heard it and pulled her hands from my grasp. I laughed. Éowyn looked hurt, "So you are saying that he is the only person of interest left in Rohan?"

"I am saying that he is different. You know me Éowyn, I am intrigued by what is different." There was no 'milady' name calling between the princess and I, our relationship had been purely friendship before I was appointed as her maid, and hardly anything had changed due to my own stubbornness.

Finishing my work on her bed, I looked to Éowyn, who was standing there watching me looking somewhat dumbfounded. I took her by the shoulders and led her to the bed where I made her sit, then I smiled at her, "Now I must go to finish the rest of my duties, try not to hurt yourself thinking about it too hard. Have my doings ever made much sense?"

-

I had not expected a warm greeting from Gríma's bedroom when I burst in a morning three days after our kitchen conversation. It was not early enough for him to still be asleep, and thankfully he had dressed all ready or I was sure I would never be heard from again. Instead he was seated at his desk, quill in hand, dressed in black, appeared to be writing a letter.

Gríma's head shot up upon my entry and I smiled at him but as usual did not receive the same greeting. He sneered, setting down his quill but not bothering to stand, watching me standing in the doorway expectantly, "I wonder what it is you think you are doing, handmaiden?"

"Only taking your bedding to be washed Lord Wormtongue," The door shut behind me as I hurried to the bed, being sure to put an emphasis on his name as I spoke, "Unless you would like the sheets to remain grimy, is that what you wish, m'lord?"

A glare was shot in my direction, "Take them, quickly."

Of course this meant that I would take as much time as I possibly could, folding the sheets to extend my stay in his room. Gríma seemed determined to ogle at me intently until I made my leave instead of returning to his letter, which he had considerately covered up. His stare really did not bother me, as it would only anger him more for me to take my time.

"Folding the sheets seems a bit unnecessary does it not?" Gríma finally snapped as I tugged off each sheet and blanket and folded them nicely. "You shall only throw them in the wash anyway, why waste the time?"

My smile was hardly noticeable as I flicked my wrist to whip the wrinkles out of the sheet. "Only doing my job, m'lord."

"Stop calling me that." Gríma said so softly it was hard to hear him.

Pausing in my work I looked up at him, smiling, "Sorry?"

"Call me Lord Gríma or call me nothing."

"As you wish 'Nothing'."

"Masti…"

"You called me Matsi!"

"I should think not. You imagined it."

"You did. I heard you."

"Back to work, servant girl." Gríma snapped harshly, but he was smiling.

Smiling.

Matsi takes a bow.