Disclaimer: I don't own any of the caracthers from the Lord of the Rings. You know how it goes, I wish they were mine, but they're not... sadly. However, those caracthers you do not recognize is mine.

Author's note: This is my first fanfic, so be nice and don't judge me too hard. I am always ready to do better, so please tell me if there is something that could be better on the next chapters. I would appreciate reviews. And just so it is said, my native language is NOT english, so I apology for the possible errors I am certain to do before this story has come to an end.

My Elvish and Rohirric that will be used during the story, may also be full of errors, so I apology for that as well. This story starts before the great battles of the War of the Ring, and will go on after Sauron's fall. This is the beginning of some stories I have planned, so enjoy.

Things Worth Fighting For

Prologue

Dol Amroth

The city was peaceful and quiet. People enjoyed the peace and was happy that all was well. The people of Dol Amroth enjoyed this beautiful night in peace. At least, almost everyone enjoyed the night...

The palace were the home of Imrahil, the Prince of Dol Amroth. He ruled Dol Amroth and Belfalas, although they were under the rule of the Steward of Gondor.

Normally Imrahil would enjoyed such a night, but something was different from him to other men except his title. Other men did not have his daughter.

"Get out of my sight! With what right dare you ask for my hand? Why do you turn to my father with your questions and not me? I am fully capeable of speaking for myself!"

The man's face was ashen, his eyes did not leave the floor and he seemed to wish he was any place but in the palace, standing before the beautiful princess of Dol Amroth who seemed ready to rip the man's gut open.

Imrahil pitied the man. Lothíriel had a fierce temper. She was very beautiful with her dark hair and green eyes. Her skin was slightly pale. But she had a temper to match her beauty.

"I would not marry you were you the last man on earth!" Lothíriel said and glared at the man. "If you do not get out of the palace now, I will have the guards throw you out. Do I make myself clear?"

"Of course, my lady," the man muttered and hurried out of the hall.

Lothíriel stared at her father. She did not say a word, but Imrahil knew she wanted to throw him from the highest point of Dol Amroth. She wanted to make sure not a single man ever found his way inside the palace to ask for her hand.

"Sister, did you really need to scare him so? We were debating whether to come to his aid or not, but in fear for our own lives we decided not to," Amrothos, Imrahil's youngest son, said and came towards them, his older brother Erchirion by his side.

"Oh, really?" Lothíriel shot them a glare. "I can assure you you are not entirely safe yet, unless you both keep your mouths shut."

Erchirion and Amrothos looked at each other and nodded. It was safer not to say a thing.

"Liriel, can you not give the man a chance?" Imrahil asked. "He is a good man and I can assure you that he is worthy of you."

"Is that so, Ada?" the princess asked. "Well, I have no intentions of being any man's slave, less alone that man. I cannot see his worth for anything else than drinking and..."

Imrahil cut her off. "I do not want to hear of it, Liriel. You have been acting this way towards any man that even looked your way. In this rate I will never see you married well, and I wish you to be well taken care of."

"I can take care of myself, Ada. I can think and act for myself, I do not need some brainless nobleman to make my decisions for me," Lothíriel said. Without another word, she turned around and walked out of the hall and brushed pass her oldest brother. She disappeared out of sight.

Elphir, Imrahil's oldest son and heir, looked at his father and brothers. "What happened this time?"

Erchirion smiled. "He asked if she wished to meet him for a walk on the beach in a few days."

"She practically threw him out," Amrothos said grinning.

"This is not funny," Imrahil said. "At this rate your sister will never wed anyone, and she will die old and lonely."

"She is still very young, Ada. She have good time to get married," Elphir said.

"Exactly, don't worry about it, Ada," Amrothos said.

"Yes, you are probably right," Imrahil said, but he could not help but wonder if he should just send her to a land far away and wed her off so someone else could handle her temper. But Imrahil was not sure where to find a man who could put up with Lothíriel.

Valinea looked up from her book when the door opened, but continued reading when she saw who it was. Lothíriel seated herself on the bed and took up another book and started reading. She did not say anything.

"All right, what is it?" Valinea asked.

Lothíriel shut the book and looked at her friend. "Why is it so important for women to marry?"

"Another man in search for your heart?" Valinea asked with a grin.

"It's not funny, Val," Lothíriel protested. "I do not wish to wed anyone. It is my life and I want to have a say in what concerns me."

"Of course, Liriel, but you know your life is not easy. You are a public person, and you are old enough to marry and it is expected that you do so soon," Valinea said.

Lothíriel groaned and buried her face in the pillow. She said something Val could not make out.

"Oh, come on, Lothíriel, you know this as well as I do," Val said.

Lothíriel looked at Val and nodded. "Well, when I am ready I will marry someone, but I have no intentions of doing so now, and when I do I will marry for love. Can't anyone understand that?"

"I am sure your family does," Val said, "I do."

"I am not sure my brainless brothers do," Lothíriel said.

Val smiled. "Oh, I am sure they understands."

"You only say that because you like my brother," Lothíriel said and smiled as she saw her friend blush. "I have known for a long time that you like him."

Val blushed even more, her face was almost as red as her hair. "It is nothing like that, Liriel."

Lothíriel's smile grew broader. "It is. I know it is." She looked out of the window. Perhaps she one day would find someone she liked as much as Valinea liked Amrothos.

Edoras, the capital of Rohan.

It was late. Most people had gone to bed. But some were still up.

A man and a woman was in the stables. They fed their horses and took care of them after the ride they had taken.

Their names was Éomer and Éowyn, brother and sister. Their uncle was Théoden, King of Rohan.

Éomer was the Third Marshal of Riddermark and lived in Aldburg in Eastfold. He was in Edoras for a short while to visit his sister who still lived in Meduseld with their uncle.

The siblings was concerned for their uncle. The king was old and could not go to bed without help. And everywhere in the shadows the king's advicor was, listening and looking. No one trusted him.

"Must you leave so soon?" Éowyn asked.

"I am afraid I must, sister," Éomer said. "My duties will not be done as long as I am here."

Éowyn nodded. "I know, but..." she shook her head. "Sometimes I wish I could speak to you or Théodred. It is hard to be here alone..."

It was only to her brother Éowyn would ever admit anything to, it be her wishes or fears. The siblings had been close since childhood, since their parents died when they were young. Often did they seek comfort in each other's company.

"I know, Éowyn," Éomer said. "I know it must be hard for you. It is for all of us. But we must continue to do what is required of us."

Éowyn nodded. "I know. When will you leave?"

"Before the sun is up," Éomer answered.

Éowyn nodded. "I will not make you promise to be safe, but you must try to return in one piece. You and Théodred are the only ones who can keep some control in Rohan."

"It is not lost yet, sister," Éomer said. "We decide our own destiny."

Éowyn smiled. That was something their mother often had said, and the siblings used it to remind themselves not to lose hope.

"Let us go inside," Éowyn said.

Somewhere else...

Three men were inside a dark room, speaking in low voices. Not that they feared anyone to hear them, they had ordered to be left alone, and their servants was to be trusted.

"We must act sooner rather than later," the youngest man said.

The oldest man looked at the two younger men. His sons. "We must be patience. One wrong move may alert the stweard."

"And what will he do?" the youngest man asked. "Denethor is old now, and he seem not to care much for things outside the White City."

"Denethor is no fool," the last man said. He was five years older than his brother. "He will not let anything go against his rule of Gondor. That is the only thing that matters to him."

The old man nodded. "Your brother is right. We must be careful, but you are also right. We must now act. Our plan is ready and it is time for us to make our first move."