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Theoden managed his kingdom with an iron fist. His kingdom had been called Ulidell, though most could never truly even call Ulidell a kingdom, for they lacked the necessary trade routes. Ulidell began the moment Theoden had been exiled from his home kingdom, for his elder brother, Daesious, the now crowned king, had viewed him as a threat to his throne. King Daesious was supposedly at least kind enough to not put the young prince on trial for a treason he didn't commit, nor had any intention of. Though Theoden had been forced to leave nonetheless.
A small group of citizens, servants, and friends went along with the young prince in his exile, not trusting his brother’s reign, and not wishing to betray the beloved Theoden. As they traveled, distancing themselves from their former home, they came across an old palace, falling apart and vine-ridden as time reached its core, but it was outside of the boundaries of Arythia, Daesious’ kingdom. They dared not risk seeking asylum within a neighboring kingdom, fearing the reputation of said kingdoms, so this dilapidated structure, and the surrounding land, were now home.
They built shelter first, for the citizens to rest the night, and have somewhere to truly call home, though they soon started on the castle itself. As well as a stone wall surrounding their small piece of land, their capital city, their home.
The sturdy stone and brick wall was completed sooner than the palace, the citizens agreed it would soon need to be taken down and rebuilt as they expanded but for now, it served its purpose. It took five years for the same small village to become something more, the dilapidated castle was still under construction but the citizens had comfortable homes and enough farms to keep everyone fed. They had even begun attempting to officially become a known kingdom, not just some pathetic village of misfits and an ex-prince.
The first alliance they had tried to make was with Arythia, their former home, however, Theoden was still under exile, and while these stand-up citizens, the rest of their humble town, had followed Theoden's lead, they also followed his fate. For they had been banned from entering Arythia walls, under the same restrictions as their former prince.
Friends and citizens alike assisted the prince in making a decision, they trusted Theoden not to lead them astray just as Theoden trusted their input. They had come to a vote, deciding to soon attempt to ally with Esmor, a large kingdom, one Arythia had its eyes set on. With war on the horizon between Esmor and Arythia, Theoden traveled to Esmor and struck a deal with their king for resources to build and expand, in exchange, they would offer armies in case of war.
This kingdom they had befriended via their shared hatred of Daesious however, did not allow them to act as their own kingdom, they could not be Ulidell anymore. Esmor forced their ideals upon the small town, claiming Ulidell as a part of Esmor’s land. They had no intentions of allowing Ulidell their freedom as they had initially hoped and planned for, this was not an allyship, this was a takeover.
So Theoden stepped down and waited. Waited until their new alliance had given them power, had helped them to their feet in a way they had failed to on their own. But the citizens’ loyalty didn't rest with this new king, it rested with Theoden, and he had no intention to break that trust.
The moment this kingdom had trusted the once small village enough to remove their guards from their walls, the citizens started planning, there was not much Theoden and his fifty-five, or so, subjects could do to overthrow the kingdom, but there was surely no harm in trying.
It didn't take long to rally troops or learn necessary magicks. Theoden's charm had always been his strongest selling point, their forces grew until they could not keep their operation secret anymore, that was the moment they struck. Fifty-five was now nearing two thousand as they brought riots to the capital, burning things to the ground, using what magicks they had available to cause havoc. Pitchforks, swords, and mismatched, put-together weapons in hand they marched to the castle, the castle that hadn't ever needed five years of maintenance, the palace with no other purpose than to show the power of the king, that couldn’t show the power of the people. It was not a battle they won, none of the battles had they won, except one, one that ended with the only deaths that really mattered.
Their forces were weak, they had managed to go from fifty-five to two thousand, and plummet back down to fifty, they had been forced back, the capital putting up walls of soldiers, and they had found themselves back where they started, their pathetic little village, with a half repaired castle and a long-since knocked-down wall, built and broken after barely two years, but they continued to fight, they defended their homes valiantly even as the Esmor armies brought them down one by one. That was the last battle they lost, the survivors now prisoners, being dragged by chains to the capital once more, this time for their execution.
But Theoden had survived this battle and he showed no fear as he was chained and tied. He was brought before this king, and he was glared at and spit at as he was dragged past, as were his loyal citizens, but whilst they cowered away, Theoden held his head high. He knows no fear for the man who he's forced to kneel before, nor does he intend to learn it now, he meets the king's eyes with a charming smile and a glint in his eyes he had not had in quite some time. As the king looked at the prince, he felt no pity, nor did Theoden feel any guilt, neither spoke, you could have heard a pin drop, if anyone had been brave enough to let it fall.
A moment passed then two, and suddenly, a noise. The distinct sound of shackles falling to the floor, in a split second, another sound, one of a knife being drawn from its sheath, and with that, the hall was full of noise; primarily footsteps. The small tricks of magic they had learned and used in their initial riots came into play once more. Theoden's men ran, escaping quickly. More footsteps, from armored men, running to Esmor’s king. A single set walked calmly away from the king’s corpse, not clad in armor, and not bothering to run. Theoden wipes the blood from his dagger, he smiled, he smiled happily at the queen before she too, was dead. He smiled subtly at one of the armored men who had drawn their weapons to fight him. They hadn't stood a chance. He smiled at a servant boy he passed as he walked calmly out of the palace, the servant boy lived, Theoden was no monster. The servant boy was left that day with a bloodied crown atop his head, and blood seeping into the cracks of the stonework of this palace gone to ruin.
No kingdom or empire recognized Theoden's town as a kingdom, nor did they recognize Theoden as its king, but no one dared attempt to question his power. He had mastered his magicks in the time it took to bring his kingdom back to its former glory, and as his kingdom grew, so did his power. His citizens trusted him, they would say Theoden was frightening, a force not to be doubted. They knew that rumors claiming he was a murderer were not quite rumors, but they agreed he had earned their loyalty.