First Lord Of The Rings story J hope you like it. Please review!

Summary: Theodred managed to survive the near death experience at the First Battle of the Fords of Isen. He now finds himself reorganizing his priorities. After all he is the only heir to the throne of Rohan. With war coming and reality that his last battle might be soon he can't help but strive to have a heir. However, he doesn't even have a wife yet.

Theodred/OC (**NEW CHARACTER ALERT**)

**She will be a deciding factor in the War of the Ring**

**Theodred is young in this story…maybe around the 25 to 30 mark**

Chapter 1: The Beginning

Theodred's Childhood

Two riders were seen, breaking the silence of the early morning. Mist still clung to the earth, and the sun had not yet breached the western sky. Looking up into a graying beard and lined face, the younger of the two riders smiled, "Father, you owe me now," he said.

"Why is that Theodred?" the man's voice rumbled like the purr of a hunting lion.

"Hama isn't going to be happy when he finds you have snuck out again," the child put on the airs of a prince, and then mockingly said, "After all, it is his noble duty to protect the body and well fair of the King of Rohan."

Grumbling into his beard Theoden, King Of Rohan and The Ridermark, quickly smothered a smile before frowning upon his son. "And I suppose you would tell him?"

"As is my duty as heir to the throne," Theodred responded seriously, but with twinkling gray eyes.

A sigh. "What is it you want Theodred? You know you are too clever for your aging father. Have mercy."

Smirking internally, Theodred gave his father his best puppy dog face and stated his wish.

"Please may I join the Rohirrim for a routine border patrol? Please! Father I turned thirteen last fall and you know my skill with sword, knife, and spear. I won't disappoint you!" He fell silent as the look on his father's face turned pensive.

Expecting a refusal, Theodred mentally prepared more in his defense. While he had sunk into his planning, his father watched emotions flicker across his eldest and only son's face. Shaking his head and placing his carefully practiced King's persona around him like a cloak he nodded, "Fine."

"YES!" His son shrieked, waving his arms in celebration. He never lost his catlike balance on top of his young warhorse, Nightstar. "Thank you Father! I can't wait to tell Eomer!"

Kicking Night's flanks Theodred urged his eager mount on towards home, leaving his Father to follow. Chuckling at his heirs spirit, King Théoden rode at a sedated pace, already knowing he would get a tongue lashing from his Captain of the King's Doorwardens. He was the King, however that had never gotten him off the hook before.

Theodred found patrols with the Rohirrim just as he imagined. Sweaty, dirty, long, boring, and tiring. More than that though he found them to be exciting, exhilarating, and free. The men he rode with joked, laughed, slept, fought, and died together. They had accepted him as one of their own and now were in the middle of teaching their young heir just how unprepared for war he truly was.

"Oooff," Theodred grunted as he hit the hard packed ground underneath him for what seemed the twentieth time that night. Grimacing, he rose to his feet again. Circling his opponent, both their dulled training knives glittered in the fire light. Calculating how his enemies taunt muscles, and balanced footing kept him ready at any second, Theodred imitated him and struck. Catching the grizzly guard by surprise at the swift and ferocious attack his knife slide along the padded stomach in front of him then snapped up to slice across Gaelen's neck protector. Stumbling back Gaelen smiled then laughed as the rest of the eored roared good naturedly and congratulated Theodred.

"I'm rarely beaten, even by the Théoden King's men. I am your man from now on until in formal duel I once again take my win back," the tall warrior smiled and bowed, hand on heart towards Theodred.

Following their leaders example the rest of the men dropped to one knee and bowed towards their one day King. Stunned, Theodred, gaped before straightening and nodding. Gracefully, he bowed back to what he now consider 'his' men. "Please stand," he smiled and tilted his head at a regal angle. Through all the sweat and dirt smeared on the young heirs clothes, the men surrounding him would swear they saw Théoden King starting out through His Heirs steel gray eyes.

Two days after that night the patrol had made their final swoop, and were readying themselves to be replaced by another eored .

"Are you ready Theodred Prince?" Gaelen asked.

"Yes, almost. Have the east riders come back Marshall?" Theodred replied. Smiling down at the young man he had only known for a fortnight, the Third Marshall of the Ridermark (later taken over by Eomer, while Gaelen moves on to be Captain of the King's Guards) nodded his assent and led his charge to where all the men had gathered, already mounted. Swinging into Nightstar's saddle Theodred smiled at Gaelen as he gave the signal to ride. A steady pace was kept for two days, however on the third day there was a sense of excitement that came over the eored. They were almost home.Thundering hooves gave Theodred a sense of unity as all the members of the Rohirrim took up a battle chant when the glistering King's city came into view. Screaming at the top of his lungs as all the riders were doing, occasionally joined by their horses, he along with the eored failed to notice the small group of hooded riders moving at a steady pace towards Edoras, Capital city of Rohan.

A snapped order from Gaelen brought the singing to an end. A hand signal brought out the expertly made spears. The riders seemed not to have noticed the eored's quick descent on them. Using surprise to their advantage Gaelen signaled a swift split of his forces. Each half maneuvering in a tight wheel to circle and then completely surround the party which was only half a days ride from Edoras. Whether this impressive display of controlled poweress had any effect on the circled strangers couldn't have been determined. Their black hoods covered their faces all the way to the jaw, with only a black void where the face should be.

The tight, serious lines of the Third Marshall's face confirmed the danger Theodred had felt prickling at the edges of his senses since sighting the mysterious bunch.

"By Order of the Third Marshall of the Ridermark, with power given to me by Theoden King, Ruler and Guardian of the Horse-Lords, I command you to state your name and business in our Capital City," Gaelan's voice boomed out, met with complete silence.

Drawing back the hood of his cloak, a man in his late thirties responded in a slightly chilled voice, "Theoden King is expecting us." Theodred gasped. This man spoke perfect Rohirric, without an accent, yet he did not look native to Rohan. The man had slightly wavy, shoulder length pitch black hair. Black hawk eyes stared out of a handsome if aging face. Slightly upturned ears and wispy eyes gave him an elfish, unnatural appearance.

Narrowing his eyes Marshall Gaelen's voice seemed to descend into darker tones, "Theoden King may be, but I am not. State your name and business in the Ridermark."

Thunderclouds came swiftly across the plains as the man seemed to grow angrier. Intense frown lines dug rivets into his forehead as lightning and thunder clashed and roared above them. Suddenly just as swiftly as they had come, the dark ominous clouds were gone and a peaceful sky returned. Directing wary gazes towards the man Gaelen and the rest of the eored shifted uncomfortably under the steady eyes of the second rider. A relatively tall woman sat regally, with one hand laid casually across her husbands arm. Her brown hair was loose and free to tumble down her back in large lazy curls. She too was in her late thirties with few lines in her face besides the ones she was employing now to frown at her husband.

Striking blue eyes shifted and the frown lines eased as she addressed the Marshall, "Excuse my husband, he does not like to travel far from our home. I am Lithen of Fangorn Forest, and this is Aithkel of Fangorn Forest," a pleasant musical voice followed by a tilt of those curly locks quickly dissipated the anger between both factions.

"I apologize also for being hasty. You can never be to sure these days. If you wouldn't mind to much my men , and I are headed to Edoras also, we will accompany you," Gaelen responded with a nod towards both.

A smile so radiant was bestowed upon poor Gaelen that he blushed before signaling forward. The smile had made him forget there was a third rider, just as Lithen had hoped.

"Oh, I am sorry but who is the third rider? For safety purposes," Gaelen asked after being nudged by Theodred.

On the back of a large black feline, which's head was almost higher than the warhorses surrounding it, the third rider tilted it's head at Lithen, who nodded in return. Slowly, two finely sculpted porcelain arms reached up and lowered the black silk hood and revealed what most men would call a goddess if asked later. Blue-black steel colored hair sparkled in straight perfection, a high forehead, chiseled cheekbones and large, innocent eyes seemed to look at everyone at once. Full lips the color of wild berries offset the breathtaking emerald green eyes that sat in stone above them. The beauty of this human seemed unreal to the men under Gaelen, Marshall of the Ridermark. Curving in a graceful arch, her neck like that of the swans in Dol Amroth, sloped downward perfectly. Many men caught themselves staring and averted their eyes, lest such an angelic creature be tainted by the looks of mere mortals.

With eyes staring straight into Gaelen's face the girl spoke in a soft voice, "I am Sirith Of Fangorn Forest. Daughter Of Aithkel and Lithen. This is Ragor, my faithful." She pointed towards the overgrown housecat she was perched upon.

Only then did the fact that the Rohirrim horses should have been going insane with such a large predator in their midst reach Gaelen's mind. Shaking his head at the wonders he had witnessed this day, he beckoned for them to follow, however not before sneaking another coveted glance at the girl he now understood to be his younger by at least 20 years. Their eyes met for a brief instant and he blushed again, having been caught. Where is Theodred?

Whipping around, Gaelen sighed when he found him right where he had last known him to be. To the right of him, the position of honor. Catching the heirs eye, Theodred raised an eyebrow before rolling his eyes and indicating the sun. It was on the decline, but when they had first caught up wit the three Fangorn mysteries it hadn't yet been noon. Had it really been that long? Shrugging, he turned towards his guests.

"My Lord and Lady, if we are to reach Edoras by nightfall we must ride at a rushed pace. Can you and your mounts handle that?"

Receiving nods from both elders, he turned toward the youngest rider and her strange animal. She gave a slow nod and by some unspoken agreement between her and her mount they took off. Surprised by the speed at which the cat that size had moved he shouted an order and raced after her. Looking to his left, he saw the child's mother and father keeping pace easily their spotless white horses. Looking to his right, he smiled as he saw Nightstar and Theodred pull ahead and fly in pursuit. Nightstar was the best horse in Theoden King's stables, there was no doubt. If any horse could catch that giant feline, it would be Theodred's beauty.

Sirith's Childhood

Years ago there was a story told by the famous weaver of tales Mithalius. A story that told the great doings of the Sorcerer Lithen the Powerful, and of the Elemental Aithkel the Furious. This story told of powers only Gods wield, and the love between these two people. Both these ageless being had a great impact on the First War for Middle Earth. They aided the Elves, Dwarves, and Humans in destroying Sauron, all the while knowing he would return, knowing there was nothing that they could do to stop him. They disappeared soon after the wars end, and were never seen again. Their story soon faded from memory.

"Mother! I can't find Ragor! Have you seen him?" a small child's voice beckoned from another room.

"Oh, Sirith. He's a two hundred pound cub, how can you possibly lose him?" Lithen fondly scolded her beautiful daughter before pointing towards the stream that fed the Entwash of Fangorn Forest.

Lazily twitching his tail by the side of the stream lay a blue-black feline roughly the size of a large buck.

Cooing softly Sirith hugged her mother before lightly racing over towards her faithful. Lithen's faithful, a large brown eagle-owl, shrilled from her shoulder. "Yes, my dear, they do make a lovely pair. He will protect her and she him. I just wish sometimes he didn't eat so much." she sighed, before laughing and turning back to her drying clothes.

"Come Sirith. It is time for your lessons," Aithkel said lightly, steeping out of the cave they used as their home and walking forward until he reached the center of the small clearing. Having been followed by his daughter he stopped and drew a runic power circle to help her focus on her powers. Glancing towards Sirith who sat perched on a boulder, intently watching him he smiled. She may look to be almost eleven however her real age was somewhere closer to four hundred. Their kind aged much slower than Humans, however they were not immortal like Elves. She almost had full mastery over the elements. He was a weather weaver, meaning he could control the winds to some extent but he mostly could focus lightning and thunder in any part of a region he wanted to and make it rain for days on end. He had tested himself. He could go full out for 7 days before he must rest. His daughter to his disappointment had not been born a weather weaver. She was the Weaver. The one being born every ten thousand years who had control over every element to the same degree. In times of lasting peace, the Weaver is weak. In times of strife and war the Weaver is strong.

Sirith was very strong in all elements, leading him to believe the Second War for Middle Earth was coming. Soon. He just didn't know when or how.

In another ten years Sirith would gain mastery over all her elements, allowing her mother to take over her training. Teaching her to use the powers of a Sorcerer. Being born of both an elemental and a Sorcerer had given Sirith both those powers along with a strong connection to an animal of nature. Hence Ragor. Ragor serves more than one purpose for Sirith as a Sorcerer's faithful; One he is a companion. Two he helps focus the her power, and Three he is a guardian to her seer's body while her spirit is separated.

Most Sorcerer's are Seer's to some extent. Sirith and her mother are very powerful, selective Seer's. A Selective Seer can choose which time period to see and decide the fate of those in a time period, to effect the past or future.

Smiling at Sirith as she stepped into the power circle, he told her to focus and allow her elements to do the work for her. A hurricane of all the elements tore through the glade, destroying everything in it's path and in the center was Sirith and Ragor. Both with closed eyes. After what seems like days however was merely a few minutes the winds slowly died down showing the destruction around them. The reason they built their home in a cave was the prevent the torn up bits of trees scattered around the glade from being their house.

"Now repair it."

Closing her eyes once again, Sirith's hands started to emit a soft, healing blue glow that spread outward until it had covered the entire clearing. All bits of wood were mended back onto their respective trees and every stone that had been unturned was set perfectly back into it's original place.

Allowing the glow to fade Sirith jumped up and gave her father a squeeze, "I did it!"

"Yes, darling daughter of mine, you did wonderful. I thought it would take another ten years at least to get your mastery however I was wrong. You may begin you mother's training tomorrow," he said with a smile.

One hundred and fifty years later

My lord how I loathed being stared at. Consequently it also made me hate almost everything that looked at me, but what can I say? Maybe my father is right. I should live in seclusion the rest of my unnaturally long life or get over it. Seems as if I must get over it, for my lovely parents and I are on our way to Rohan. Theoden King, a human, has ruled those lands for many years fairly. My mother and father do not want me to end up alone without friends like them so they are sending me to live with the Rohirrim. I am suppose to await there for Aragorn, Heir to the throne of Gondor, and the White Wizard Gandalf. My destiny is very clear.

Stop Sauron from destroying Middle Earth. Greaattt.

Please review J this was really fun to write I have to say! I've needed to get this out of my head for days! Alright I hope you like it. Byee!