Shadowmaiden, Shieldmaiden

Disclaimer: Eowyn belongs to Tolkien. Dernhelm belongs to Eowyn.

Chapter 1

The Guardian

Eowyn

I was scared at first. There would be times when I would recall nothing for a space of four days. Next I would wake up and wonder what had happened. Then she spoke to me and I realized she was there to help.

She first appeared when the worm, Grima, began haunting my steps in my tenth year. He would pursue me and I had not the strength to stand up to him. But she did. I created her to save me from him. She was all that I was not. Brave, witty, and strong.

It is hard to explain. She is part of me, because she is me and I created her. However, I cannot control her actions and she cannot control mine. But I live in fear, because I am weak and I worry that the small part of our mind that is still mine she will one day usurp.

Nevertheless, she is dear to me. She protects me from the shadows but I sense them seizing her own mind. She makes sacrifices for me, as my brother, Eomer, would.

He does not know that there are two of us sharing the body of the White Lady. Dernhelm (so she names herself) and I decided to keep it secret. They would not understand. They would say it was black magic and would call their physicians to throw one of us out.

I am skilled with the sword, though I have not the will to use it. Dernhelm on the other hand has extraordinary abilities and she puts them to use shamelessly.

Poor dear Dernhelm. The world holds little happiness for her. She loves a man that will never love her back. Or does she love? Sometimes I wonder if she is even capable of it. Does she desire his title? Queen of Gondor, she could be. And she would make a marvellous queen. But it shall not be so, for Aragorn loves another. And perhaps he too is doomed to never have that love returned.

My guardian also puts me in the line of fire. She pushed me to the back of our mind, in the darkness, and seized consciousness. Now I wake to find I am sleeping among the men and I am dressed like one. I know where she is taking us. She whispered to me about it. She wants to fight with the men. I often feal guilt for her. She does not deserve to be weighed down by a coward like me. But now I am dragged along for the ride. It is too late to turn back. Fear takes hold of me. But I will do this. She deserves it. If there is one thing we both agree on, it is that Edoras is a cage. Is she not giving me freedom? Or death?, another part of me whispers. I concentrate hard and call for her in the recesses of our mind. She is coming. She will be brave for us both.

Dernhelm

She knows naught of a cage. This is a cage. Being trapped in another's body. But I cannot blame her. How I would love to slay that worm, Grima. But I never had the chance and now he is out of my reach. Many years I had been with her before she became aware of me. I would watch with her eyes and see the shadow approaching. But she was oblivious to it. As they all were. Perhaps I saw it because I was made of shadow, of her deepest, darkest thoughts. Things she contemplated in the lonely hours by her window, while the worm prowled outside her door. But now doom was upon us and I heeded its call. I knew it was cruel to her but I had to go. I forced her to the back of our mind and, well, took her hostage.

Aragorn. There are shadows in his soul that are akin to mine. But he senses some disharmony when he looks at me and perceives the turbulence of our soul. When he denied my aid on the Paths of the Dead I felt despair. Would I always be left behind? I had skill to match the men and yet they took my sword and placed my hands on the harp. Nay. Leave such placid activities to Eowyn.

She is braver than she knows. For I can only be what she is. But she tells herself that she is not brave, because the men declare she needs protection. So she lends her strength and bravery to me. I am meant to save her. But it is ironic that I am what shall kill her. For she diminishes a little more everyday because I am here. I am the stronger one. But I cannot truly love, for she does not lend that emotion to me. Although soon the decision shall not be up to her. Soon I shall decide what I wish to feel. For I am taking over.

I do not mean to, but she is giving up. The death of Theodred hurt her terribly. She hid for weeks and wouldn't come out. She did not want to deal with reality and her resolve gave her strength. I could not force her back into consciousness (as I was used to doing, for I come and go as I please) but finally she came back of her own accord.

I have brought the hobbit, Merry, with me, for he also wished to accompany the Riders but was refused. As I look about me I know this is where I am meant to be. I do not mind sleeping on the ground at night or the long rides during the day.

Battle calls me.

And I am answering.

***

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