Since the northern defenses had been completed, Kaen Eowenríel no longer feared the cold shadow that had so long pressed down upon his realm. For a time, peace seemed to hold. Yet scarcely had he returned to Elarothiel when a thought struck him—one grim and urgent, a matter that would shape the fate of Middle-earth in the wars yet to come.

It was in the sixth year of the Age of the Golden Tree, the Third Age 2951, when Kaen had still been locked in that bitter stalemate with the Witch-king in the North. In those same days, far to the south, the White Wizard Saruman had begun his secret descent into darkness.In the original tale,eventually, Through the seeing-stone, the palantír, he had spoken with Sauron and, in secret, bound himself in a dreadful alliance , that which later ages would call the Pact of the Two Towers.

Saruman, in his pride, made of Isengard a western bastion for the Dark Lord's growing power. In return he believed he would be granted knowledge of the One Ring and aid in hidden strength. Thus did he cast aside the ancient oath of friendship with Gondor, declaring Isengard a realm apart."

Though Kaen's presence in the world had altered many strands of fate, his dominion lay far in the North, and news of the South reached him only faintly. Yet whispers came from the shadow-wardens of the Caladhîn elves: Saruman had sealed Isengard from all visitors, claiming that he would stand alone against the Darkness. Messengers from both Rohan and Gondor had been turned away from its gates.

These strange and secretive acts stirred Kaen's suspicion. Could it be, he wondered, that the White Wizard had again strayed into the shadows, just as the story he knew?

So, under the pretense of journeying south to pay respects at the funeral of King Fengel of Rohan, Kaen set forth with a company of one hundred of his King's Guard and an equal number of Caladhîn shadow-wardens. On the road he sent word to Saruman, announcing his intent to visit Isengard soon. After that, he made no further contact, only dispatching his Caladhîn scouts to observe the tower and report any strange movements.

…

When Kaen entered Rohan, he was received by King Thengel, the wise ruler who was known in the chronicles of Men as one of Rohan's most just and noble kings. That Thengel already knew of Kaen's coming surprised him, and Kaen inclined his head courteously.

"I have long dwelt in the North," he said. "I had thought my name would mean little in these southern lands. I am surprised that news of me has reached even your court."

Thengel smiled. "You underestimate the reach of your own renown, my friend. In all the Free Kingdoms of Middle-earth, north or south, who has not heard of Kaen Eowenríel — the dragonslayer, the builder of Rimwinter, the friend of Elrond?"

Kaen laughed softly and shook his head. "Then I stand humbled. Such praise I scarcely deserve, though I thank you for it."

In truth, Kaen cared little for the tongues of the South. Between the endless burdens of Eowenría and the lurking threat of Angmar, he had no leisure for politics beyond his borders. Were it not for his concern about Saruman, he would not have set foot in Rohan at all.

The two kings spoke cheerfully as they rode together toward Edoras, the Golden Hall gleaming in the afternoon sun. Thengel received Kaen with the highest honors of his realm and rightly so, for Eowenría was now Rohan's greatest ally in trade. From Kaen's kingdom came golden grain, for which Rohan had long been grateful. War had made Eowenría's needs vast, but the gold that flowed from her coffers enriched Rohan greatly, and her trade in food kept their people well-fed and thriving.

That night a grand feast was held in Meduseld. There, among the gathered nobles and warriors, Kaen beheld a child of five years,Théoden, son of Thengel and Queen Morwen Steelsheen. Already there was a spark of greatness in the boy's eyes, a mingling of Rohirric vigor and Dúnedain grace.

The child peered shyly at Kaen from behind his mother's gown, his wide eyes full of awe. Kaen smiled and beckoned him closer. Théoden glanced up at Queen Morwen, who gave him an encouraging nod. Summoning courage, the boy stepped forward, bowed with surprising solemnity, and said, "I greet you, great King of Eowenría. I am Théoden, son of Thengel, Prince of Rohan."

His voice was small but steady, and the hall filled with warm laughter and approving nods. Kaen knelt so that their eyes were level and removed from his finger a silver ring set with a pale-blue gem.

"I see in you," Kaen said, "the makings of a true king — strong in heart, steadfast in honor. Take this ring as a token of friendship. Should you ever find yourself in need, come bearing this gift, and the gates of Eowenría shall open to you."

Little Théoden accepted it with innocent wonder, not knowing the weight of what he held. But the eyes of the court gleamed with astonishment and joy. For to receive the favor of Kaen Eowenríel,the creator of the Elven Sacred Trees, the father of the Rune Cores, the founder of Eowenría itself was no small honor.

He was the High King of the Caladhîn Elves, the patron of Khazad craftsmen, the teacher of Dwarf-lords like Thorin Oakenshield and of Bard, King of Dale. Among Men, Elves, and Dwarves alike, he was revered as the Kingmaker. And now his blessing had fallen upon a child the very one who, in years yet to come, would lead Rohan through its darkest hour.

…

When the feast had ended, Kaen went down to the foot of the mountains where the tombs of Rohan's kings lay. There he paid his respects to the line of their forefathers, laying flowers before the mound of Fengel.

In the days that followed, he asked Thengel to send messengers to Isengard, to learn what they could of Saruman's dealings. But they returned with little good news, the wizard refused them entry.

Only Kaen's own envoy was admitted, receiving a courteous reply: Saruman, it was said, welcomed Kaen's visit and would prepare the tower for his arrival.

So Kaen made ready to depart. Before he left, King Thengel took him aside, concern shadowing his brow.

"Your Majesty," he said quietly, "I fear for you on this journey. Isengard is not what it once was. The wizard who dwells there has shut himself away these many years. He no longer aids Rohan as once he promised; he sends no word, and none know what he now labors upon within those walls."

Kaen listened in silence, his gaze distant, as though he could already see the black tower rising against the western sky. Then he said, "Whatever Saruman is weaving, I must see it with my own eyes. He is powerful, perhaps too powerful, and I would not see him fall into the snares of darkness.

"But if he has indeed turned astray…" Kaen's voice grew cold, and a faint light burned in his eyes. "Then be assured, I am no soft-hearted lord. I shall deal with Isengard in my own way."

He had weighed all outcomes already. Should the need arise, he would face the White Wizard without fear. For Kaen Eowenríel had long since passed into the realm of legend, a hero of near-mythic strength. Save for Sauron himself, he feared no being of Middle-earth.

And indeed, it was known among the wise that those who had attained the stature of the mythic heroes of old could, if fate demanded, strike down even gods. The ancient chronicles of Elves and Men had shown this truth before — and Kaen Eowenríel was ready, if it came to it, to prove it once again.

…