A/N - Hi everyone, this story has been stuck in my head for a very long time. I have written it and rewritten it many times in my mind. This is my first AU-ish story that I have ever done. I realise that some of the timeline is slightly off as is the geography in relation to the book canon. However, it suited the story better to do this. Hope you like it! As always R&R, Mrs E x

In the dimly lit room of the circular tower, skulked two men. One dressed in black, with greasy hair and sallow skin; a sickly fellow. The other in stark contrast was dressed in white with long flowing flaxen hair. He carried an air of authority and arrogance.

"What are your orders master?" The sickly man asked through an oily drawl,

"The key to the seat of Rohan, where do you feel it lies?" The taller man replied dryly,

The greasy man slunk around his companion to get a better look at his long face,

"Theoden sire."

"Wrong." He almost shouted. The smaller man shrunk at the power of his words.

The greater man walked away from his companion and looked out of the small window to the south. He surveyed below him, his minions of dark power finishing their destructive work on the forest surrounding his tower. He smirked devilishly and continued,

"The key to our power over that land, lies in the sons of Rohan. Remove Theodred son of Theoden and Eomer his sister-son, then the path to the King and his throne will be unchallenged."

"Brilliant master, what an excellent idea." The pale man droned.

"Is it?" Came the cold reply.

The lesser man furrowed his brow and began to think meticulously. As much as his master tried to make him feel inferior he held a keen mind himself.

"My Lord, an open attack on the prince and the King's nephew, would declare open war between Isengard and Rohan. Is this wise?"

The tall man in white turned to face his inferior and his smirk grew into a wicked smile,

"Yes, you are right Wormtongue. But to focus the prince's' attention to something, or someone else, would achieve our first aim quickly. Then when the time is right, we attack with full force."

The taller man gestured towards to the window inviting the worm to peer down to the destruction below. The greasy man matched his friends fiendish smile, with one of his own. The man in white moved back towards the table that stood proud in the centre of the room, and began fumbling through papers and scrolls.

Wormtongue faltered for a second time and asked surreptitiously, "My Lord Saruman, whom do you intend to waylay the prince with?"

Saruman looked up from his papers and replied flatly, "The dark Lord has procured her. Through the weakling steward of Gondor. He planted in his mind the idea to unite his house with King Theoden's."

"When master?"

"She is already on her way Grima."

Grima Wormtongue, slathered his lower lip with his thick and slimy tongue and allowed himself a maniacal chuckle.

o0o

"Why do you look so anxious brother?" Eomer chortled to his cousin, Theodred.

Though they were not similar in age, nor indeed actual brothers. The two men had been raised together under the King's protection and considered the other a true brother by birth. Both men would willingly risk their lives to save the other, it was a closeness and bond that not many men shared, but were lucky to have.

Theodred shuddered as an icy wind whipped through his chainmail and armour. The crown prince pulled his cape further around him for warmth. Their position on the platform outside Meduseld gave them a good view of the city below. But the bitter wind from the north was exacting.

"I've never met the woman, Eomer. What if she's…" The prince faltered, it wasn't polite conversation for the men and women of the court to hear. He lowered his voice,

"What if she's a hag?"

Eomer chuckled but bit back his laughter just as quickly.

"It's no laughing matter, Eomer." Theodred replied just as amused. The prince looked around to see if anyone had heard.

"Can you imagine anything worse, than having to double bag the lady that you are about to bed?"

Eomer and Theodred could barely contain their mirth and both laughed out loud before the court that congregated on top of Edoras' steps. Eomer placed a gloved hand across his mouth to conceal his merriment, after all this was a solemn day.

The two brother were abruptly stopped from their fun by the arrival of Eomer's younger sister. Eowyn of Rohan had grown up around strong minded and strong willed men, and was therefore used to their antics and unrefined banter. She announced her presence through a small cough. The two men froze and bowed their heads to the white lady of Rohan.

"Do not worry cousin, I have heard tell that the lady is quite beautiful. So you will find no problem enticing her."

The knowing woman threw her cousin a sideways glance and continued,

"Although perhaps you should be worried, after all, she may not have you!"

Eowyn smiled at her cousin and returned her gaze towards the lower city as a trumpet blast caught the group's attention.

The heavy wooden gates of the city creaked open and a retinue of horsemen, wagons and carriages eked slowly through into the city. The men atop the horses wore silver armour and helmets adorned with swan wings. Their banners of pale blue were a stark contrast to the darker, richer colours of red, green and brown of Rohan. Their horses too were different. The beast were leaner than the battle-horses of Rohan, but their height was roughly the same. The wagons that followed the men were laden down with wine, salt and spices from the south. A partial dowry payment to the King of Rohan and his son. The final carriage was ornately decorated with carvings of ships, seas and the standard of its homeland of Dol Amroth. It was enclosed from all sides, save for a few slits carved in for air. Inside this carriage was Theodred's soon to be wife, the niece of the steward of Gondor. The man that had orchestrated the deal.

Theodred could feel his heart beat louder and heavier in his chest. He was so nervous. Not battle nervous, like he was the night before a skirmish. This was different.

As the party began to make its way up through the city towards the stone staircase, the crown prince began the descent down the stairs to meet her. Eomer and Eowyn followed, as did the rest of the court. The King was detained at present and therefore did not wait outside to greet the newcomers. He would formally meet them inside.

Theodred and his family had reached the bottom step, just as the carriage pulled up to the edge. A soldier from the rear, withdrew from his horse and opened the heavy door of the carriage. Out came a pale grey slipper on a tanned foot and ankle. Theodred allowed his eye to wander from this intimate part of the lady's body and was pleased to find the rest of her just as seemly. Lothiriel wore a heavy woolen gown of pale blue and silver. The cut was fitted on her small frame, low on her slender neck and the sleeves tightly bound at her wrists. She wore her hair woven, pinned to the nape of her neck. About her was a pale blue mantle that covered her hair and figure demurely. The prince felt his mouth go dry. This woman was anything but a hag.