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#Dernhelm
thelien-art · 2 months
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Shieldmaiden of Rohan, and Lady of Ithilien; Warrior and Healer
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Eowyn lived in Ithilien with Faramir, who had been declared ruling Prince of the land, after the war of the ring, and dwelt together in the hills of Emyn Arnen, where she was known as both the Lady of Ithilien and Emyn Arnen, as well as Shieldmaiden of Rohan, and shield arm.
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Yes, yes, Sean Bean was afraid of the helicopter and Ian McKellan hated Elijah Wood’s music choices in the makeup trailer and Billy Boyd had to go to the emergency dentist in full hobbit get-up, but my absolute favorite behind-the-scenes tidbit from the LOTR movies is that half the riders of Rohan were actually women. A whole army full of Dernhelms, it just couldn’t be more *chef’s kiss*.
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jackthegiantkiller · 6 months
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so i have a little nonsense theory about the name Dernhelm, the name used by Eowyn when she rides with the Rohirrim to Gondor in The Return of the King.
just a couple things i noticed on my read through:
the prefix 'dern' means secret or hidden (also seen in Derndingle, the location of the Entmoot).
the captain, Elfhelm, and the rest of the company 'Dernhelm' was riding with ignored her, and she rarely spoke.
the way its described in the book its implied that the captain and company were simply turning a blind eye to her coming along, however, i think that its unlikely that the men of Rohan would allow beloved Eowyn to ride to war and likely death, especially when she was supposed to be governing the people left behind in Meduseld- surely at least ONE would disagree, and then the jig would be up. additionally, why Dernhelm? its a good name, but with people who understand the meaning of the words, you might as well be calling yourself something like sneaky bill.
so here's my extravagant, unnecessary and probably incorrect proposition: the name Dernhelm is a mantle that anyone can take up when they dont want the trappings of their old name. maybe they did things in the past that they arent proud of, or maybe their family name has been somehow dishonoured, or maybe even they dont want their actions in the upcoming battle to be associated with themselves. in any case, Dernhelm is simply a name that anyone can use, and people will politely act like they do not exist, and not try to learn the name or the face behind the helm. Eowyn takes up the mantle, and can fade into the company of riders unchallenged
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theworldsoftolkein · 2 months
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Dernhelm by Matthew Stewart
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katajainen · 15 days
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There seemed to be some understanding between Dernhelm and Elfhelm, the Marshal who commanded the éored in which they were riding. He and all his men ignored Merry and pretended not to hear if he spoke. He might have been just another bag that Dernhelm was carrying. Dernhelm was no comfort: he never spoke to anyone.
I'm pretty certain Elfhelm knows who Dernhelm is. He's essentially going "I'm not going to say anything about it unless you do, my Lady".
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camille-therinde · 5 months
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"What do you fear, lady?" he asked.
"A cage," she said. "To stay behind bars, until use and old age accept them, and all chance of doing great deeds is gone beyond recall or desire."
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"I want to be a healer, and love all things that grow and are not barren."
First pic is before the Pelennor Fields, when Éowyn is at her lowest point.
The second is somewhere in the gardens of the Houses of Healing, where Éowyn reflects on her life, the past and what the future holds for her.
The weather was warmer today so I wore the Dernhelm shirt with the trousers I originally planned to, and my mum took the photos in the gardens of an old monastery.
Shirt is by me using a vintage pattern, trousers are hand-me-down from my sister and the belt is a lucky find at the antique shop yesterday.
Ignore the fact I have dark hair when Éowyn is described as light blonde with flowing hair. It was also windy af so there was no way I’d let my hair down all day.
Also, on this blog we support Genderfluid!Éowyn.
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dhelglore · 10 months
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"But no living man am I! You look upon a woman. Éowyn I am, Éomund's daughter... Begone, if you be not deathless! For living or dark undead, I will smite you, if you touch him." Dernhelm // Éowyn Shieldmaiden of Rohan
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arwendeluhtiene · 1 year
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Tolkien throwback - Sketches and doodles of Éowyn and King Théoden (mid-to-late 2000s) . .🎨Media: Graphite . ✨References: Screenshots from The Two Towers and The Return of the King . Also on:
✨Instagram art page
✨ArtStation
✨ DeviantArt
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kindlythevoid · 4 months
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"There seemed to be an understanding between Dernhelm and Elfhelm, the Marshal who commanded the eored in which they were riding.”
Return of the King pg. 101
OH REALLY. IRREGULAR-LOOKING NEWCOMER DERNHELM has an UNDERSTANDING with ELFHELM, THE MARSHAL THEY ARE RIDING UNDER WHO FALLS UNDER THE COMMAND OF THE HOUSE OF EORL. HOW INTERESTING.
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themysterytrip · 1 year
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1. Faramir
2. Merry
3. Éowyn
4. Éowyn/Dernhelm
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tenth-sentence · 11 months
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It seemed that Dernhelm laughed, and the clear voice was like the ring of steel.
"The Lord of the Rings: The Return of the King" - J.R.R. Tolkien
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thelien-art · 2 months
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Faramir & Eowyn - Holding hands
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First Valentine drawing, Valentine Event Post
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Sanity check, Elfhelm and Éowyn edition:
I have spent my entire LOTR-reading life feeling certain that Elfhelm knew perfectly well that Dernhelm was Éowyn, and he made a conscious decision to look the other way about it. Like, it never really even occurred to me that other people don’t read it this way…until literally this morning, when someone told me that I’m flat out wrong. I’m not the only one, right??
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I mean, first of all, Elfhelm’s a smart guy, and an éored is only 120 people. I think it’s more than fair to assume he had enough familiarity with his own men to notice an unexplained outsider and then ask some basic questions (especially when the unexplained outsider also had an unauthorized hobbit in tow!). Secondly, the text itself says:
There seemed to be some understanding between Dernhelm and Elfhelm, the Marshal who commanded the éored in which they were riding. He and all his men ignored Merry and pretended not to hear if he spoke.
Now, I included that second sentence because you could argue that the understanding between Dernhelm and Elfhelm is just about their agreement not to acknowledge Merry’s presence. But I don’t think it has to be read that way. This paragraph is from Merry’s perspective, so that’s the element of the understanding he’s focused on, but it doesn’t mean that’s the full extent of the agreement. And, again, it seems unreasonable to me to think that Elfhelm could have enough interactions with Dernhelm to be able to reach an understanding of any kind with him without also realizing in the process that a) Dernhelm is not one of his regular men; b) Dernhelm is acting kind of squirrely; c) Dernhelm is atypically light/small; and d) Dernhelm’s face looks an awful lot like the king’s niece.
Ultimately, it doesn’t matter because I’m gonna keep thinking of Elfhelm the way that I always have–as a good dude who keeps his mouth shut about both Merry and Éowyn because he knows how to mind his own business and he doesn’t begrudge anyone their desire to fight for the greater good. But I have to admit that my mind is kind of blown that other people never saw it that way!
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theelfmaiden · 1 year
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"A sword rang as it was drawn. 'Do what you will; but I will hinder it, if I may.'
'Hinder me? Thou fool. No living man may hinder me!'
Then Merry heard of all sounds in that hour the strangest. It seemed that Dernhelm laughed, and the clear voice was like the ring of steel. 'But no living man am I! You look upon a woman. Éowyn I am, Éomund's daughter. You stand between me and my lord and kin. Begone, if you be not deathless! For living or dark undead, I will smite you, if you touch him.'"
- the Battle of Pelennor Fields, March 14-15th 3019 T. A. ...
... aka "why not to celebrate Tolkien Reading Day with smth that happened ten/eleven days ago" me thinking 🤔
Anyway, Happy Tolkien Reading Day folks!!! 📖⚔️🐎
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boromithril · 2 years
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"[M]aiden of the Rohirrim, child of kings, slender but as a steel-blade, fair yet terrible. A swift stroke she dealt, skilled and deadly. The outstretched neck she clove asunder, and the hewn head fell like a stone ... and with its fall the shadow passed away. A light fell about her, and her hair shone in the sunrise."
Éowyn at the Battle of the Pelennor Fields
J.R.R. Tolkien, The Return of the King
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When Gríma visits Dernhelm-Éowyn-whatever-the-name-is-now, it is dusk and the army is two days out from Minas Tirith. He has put off this visit, thinking it wouldn’t be appropriate. Or warranted. Or anything either of them would want to experience.
Yet, despite his reluctance, Gríma ends up knocking on a tent pole as a horn call signals the changing of the guards. Dernhelm-Éowyn says, ‘I suppose you can enter.’
So Gríma does. It's dim, inside the tent. Lit by two lamps and a small, charcoal brazier. Grabbing a stool, Gríma seats himself at a reasonable distance from the cot.
They proceed to stare at each other with no discernable emotion on either face. Then, Dernhelm-Éowyn speaks, wanting to know: why did he do it?
Why did he do what?
‘The Witch King. You helped. Or tried to. I must admit I’m surprised. I thought you would have run. Why?’
The first instinct is to say: I wished to not be murdered by your overprotective brother for standing by as you went and did something so stupid it can only be called inspired.
But that is not the truth. What is the truth? He hardly knows himself. And look at the two of them, in this moment. Dernhelm-Éowyn with arm bandaged and slowly healing, drinking athelas tea after athelas tea, bathing the wounded limb in athelas draught after athelas draught. As for Gríma? He is shaky, frenetic, longing for a bath in a way he has never longed before and gods he wants to get drunker than a lord at midsummer jol after a good first-harvest.
So he says, ‘I think. Well, I wasn’t thinking. Not exactly. Nothing beyond: I suppose fire could be helpful. And it’s something I can do with a fair bit more authority than swordplay. I suppose, if I had been thinking. Properly. Philosophically. I would say that I did it out of a fear of death. I could die swiftly, as collateral in your fight with the Witch King, or I could die potentially slowly. Bleed out from a dagger stroke. Break something inside and it takes days. Poisoned blood from an unhealed wound. Intestines spilled over saddle. How I saw one man die at some point that day. He looked at them and then tried to put them back in and he couldn’t because his hands were slippery because of course they were. Though, there was less blood than I expected—’
‘Gríma.’
‘—what?’
‘Stop.’
‘Fine.’ He glares. ‘I was only trying to be honest for once, out of some misguided attempt to meet expectations laid out in my weregild to your uncle. Please inform him that I was honest.’ He sucks in a rattling breath. ‘Also what name is it? Your brother says Éowyn but I disregard most of what he has to say at any given moment. Also, you chopped all your hair off and it looks worse than my brother after a pub fight. Either of them. Dernhelm suits, I suppose.’
‘Whichever.’
‘That’s not an answer.’
‘It very well is. Anyway, I fail to see why I should be gracious to you.’ Dernhelm halts his speech. Attempts to master himself. ‘Well, I will say that for once your cowardice served a useful purpose.’
Gríma sneers.
Dernhelm chews something over in their sudden silence. Gríma isn’t sure where to go with this conversation. They are in a small tent, the smells of campfire drift in and Gríma is certain Éomer is hovering nearby to make sure he doesn’t go and do anything untoward with the sweet, baby sister he has yet to acknowledge is not longer a baby and has never been sweet a day in his life.
‘You feared death,’ Dernhelm says, eyes cutting. ‘But you have your friend. The one who saves you.’
‘Indeed,’ Gríma replies. ‘But that has never stopped me from being afraid of death in the past. I fail to see why it would stop me now, or in the future.’
The god—they are gone and whatever agreement they had ended. A fact Gríma is loath to admit to anyone, let alone Dernhelm.
‘I suppose.’ Dernhelm looks him up and down. ‘You are remarkably spineless. It’s a wonder you can stand up.’
‘And you remarkably stupid, it’s a wonder you’re alive.’ He glances as Dernhelm’s arm. The discoloured fingers that peak through the bandages. ‘Was it worth it? Being a rider, a soldier—is it what you always imagined?’
What a studious expression. Dernhelm’s always cold face narrows, a knife point of interest in this question. Gríma does not expect an honest answer. Éomer may be an honest man. Dernhelm is not. Well, not to the same degree. No matter how much he might wish to believe himself to be.
A state of being Gríma sympathises with for there are some existences that by simply living as the world expects you to live, you are necessarily lying.
‘No,’ Dernhelm replies at length. ‘It was different. But I have no regrets and would willingly, happily, do it again.’  
‘I see.’ Gríma tilts his head to the side. Weighs the young soldier before him and thinks there’s a point he can slide in a little blade. ‘And the future? When we all return to Éomarc and you go back to being Lady Éowyn, Shieldmaiden of the Éotheod. Do you fear that life, my lord?’
‘Do you?’
Gríma shrugs. ‘I’m not returning to what I had been before. You are. To go from what and who you are now, back to a lady expected to marry, have children, heal the rifts and wounds this war made. Would that make you happy?’
Dernhelm glares. ‘That is an impertinent question. Inappropriate too. You are not a friend, you do not get to ask me those things.’
‘I shall take that as a yes, then.’
‘What is it that you want, Gríma? You’re making insinuations with your questions. Speak plainly for once.’
‘I want nothing. My lord.’ Gríma pushes the stool back, rising and bowing at the same time. A fluid gesture he perfected from sitting at Théoden’s sickbed for two years.
What a lifetime ago. It feels another world. He could not go back to that country, even if he tried.
‘I’m sure you are tired,’ Gríma continues. ‘We are marching again tomorrow. I’m sure you wish to be well rested.’
At the tent flap Dernhelm’s voice comes over, ‘And what about you, Gríma?’
Gríma’s hand is on canvas, ready to pull it back to show them the cool purple of sunset. ‘What about me?’
‘One time, I can’t remember when, but you said we weren’t too different. I had thought you were trying…’
‘Trying it on?’ Gríma supplies.
‘Yes. Were you?’
Gríma smiles.
Dernhelm becomes deeply unimpressed. ‘Regardless, I can’t help wondering: what did you mean by that?’
Gríma looks at Dernhelm in a clean tunic someone procured (it is in Gondor's style), unevenly cut hair sticking out at angles filled with grease and dirt, his eyes distant and grave. If Éomer were not to be king, Gríma could easily see Dernhelm on the throne.
‘Nothing more and nothing less than what I said.’
‘If you could be someone else, who would you be?’ Dernhelm asks, insistent. Hanging in these questions is a heavy need to know. Gríma cannot bear it.
‘That is a dangerous question, my lord, and one I do not ask myself for I suspect I would be scared to see the answer.’
‘Why?’
‘Because I have spent much of my life being one thing, and it is a fearful notion to think you’ve done it wrong for over forty years. I will bid you good-evening my lord.’ With a solemn bow, he sweeps from the tent.
hands down my favourite scene in the entire Swimming Through Fire series. Like every scene with Eowyn-Dernhelm and Grima is sheer gold, but this one is my absolute favourite. Mostly for the ambiguity of the ending the things they’re both talking around. 
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