Stories of Arda - Lord of the Rings Fan-Fiction Archive

A/N: Whilst this story centres on Oropher and Celeborn, it also provides the back story for those readers of “Immortal Friends” (and “An Elf, A King and Blueberry Tarts”), who wished to know more about Tariel’s relationship with Oropher and his family.

The delicate strains of harp music drifted through the forest, its sweet melody gently invited the leaves to dance, and unknowingly called to the troubled spirit that wandered amongst the trees. Oropher was not so lost in his thoughts that he did not hear the siren song, and he pushed his anger aside as he followed the music to its source, a smile lighting his face as he recognised the musician, not by her face which he could not yet see, but simply by her playing. He approached the clearing silently and listened appreciatively until the final notes faded away.

“Ai, Tariel, your music reflects your beauty, and the merry tune you played has lifted a heaviness from my spirit,” he said with a slight bow to the Elf maid as he settled beside her beneath the shade of the mellorn tree. Tariel blushed slightly, as she always did when Oropher gave her his attention, for not only was there warmth and affection in his eyes, but also a suggestion of hidden passion. She knew full well charmed all the maids he knew in the same way, and all felt the same effect as she, but none had yet won his heart.

“Thank you, Oropher. It pleases me to hear that you find solace in my music. I take it you have had another unpleasant discussion with the Lord and Lady?” she enquired candidly as she began playing the slightly more melancholy air she knew to be one of his favourite pieces. Oropher looked slightly startled at her perceptiveness, and the harp music was joined by the silvery sound of her laughter.

“You need not look so surprised, for many of us, both Sindar and Silvan, are aware of your strained relationship with your kinsman and his wife, although most are too polite to mention it,” she explained.

“But you are not?” he enquired, suddenly wondering why he had not taken more notice of this intriguing maid in the past. He knew she was an excellent cook, and harpist, but he now felt as if there seemed to be so much more to her. She was more than simply a maid he often had the pleasure to partner in the dancing that was part of the merrymaking of the Silvan Elves who also lived in Lórien.

Oropher had been one of the first of his kind to join in the almost nightly revels, but had soon been joined by other Sindar of like mind, including Tariel, and they had grown to love the simple way of life of the Wood Elves. Oropher was so entranced with these rustic people that he had taken the time to learn their language that, as far as he was concerned, possessed a simple yet elegant beauty. Silvan was a language of nature, untarnished by politics and strife of their more sophisticated kin, a language that allowed him to speak more eloquently with the trees.

“Oh, I am polite, but I am also direct. It is a useful trait in the kitchens,” she replied with a cheerful smile as if her choice of work explained everything. Oropher sensed that she was one who was possessed of great wisdom and compassion to whom he could speak freely, and he decided to take her into his confidence, for he sorely needed someone to talk to at this moment.

“I have come from a rather brief evening meal with Celeborn and Galadriel,” he admitted, his brow creasing in distaste as he recalled how the evening had ended.

Galadriel and he were not friends, but tolerated each other out of love and respect for Celeborn yet as the evening wore on, the tension between the two had become palpable. It seemed that they had a difference of opinion on just about every topic of conversation but tempers had flared when Galadriel sought to disparage his behaviour and love of the Silvan Elves, accusing him of having more loyalty for them than his own kin.

“I see no need to declare allegiance to anyone, even the self styled rulers of Lothlórien,” he pointed out rather heatedly.

“Not only are you are one of the Sindar nobles, but you are also kin of the Lord of the Golden Wood, surely he deserves your support,” she replied in her coldly arrogant voice.

“Celeborn has my respect, and my affection, but that does not mean I agree with him on this matter. It may come as a surprise to you, but many of the other Sindar nobles share my feelings towards the Noldor,” answered Oropher equally as coldly and glaring unflinchingly at Galadriel. “As for my love of the Silvan Elves, I am not interested in ‘keeping up appearances’ and neither you or anyone else has the right to choose my friends. It is unlikely that they will bow to your rule, I might add, for they are free spirits and see no reason to change their way of life. I believe it is unjust of you to expect them to do so,” he added angrily. “Surely you agree with me in this, Celeborn?” he asked his kinsman, who had remained silent whilst the storm of words raged.

“Whether they accept my Lady and me as rulers of this realm is certainly their choice, but you are mistaken if you believe that by doing so their way of life will be changed,” he said.

“By her very attitude, Galadriel tells me differently. I believe you believe what you are saying, but I do not trust her,” he said, pointing to Galadriel and trying hard to prevent the hatred in his eyes from reaching his voice. “You may have lived in the Light of the Trees, but we are more than content to remain children of the stars, there is much that binds us to Arda.”

“Yet that is one of the reasons why you should accept me as your Lady, as is my due,” said Galadriel haughtily. Celeborn could have wished for a little less pride from both his wife and his kinsman, but wisely realised that it was time to put a stop to further argument.

“Perhaps it would be best if you left, Oropher, for there is obviously nothing more you two have to say to each other,” suggested Celeborn.

“There is but one thing… never will I swear allegiance to a Noldor!” swore Oropher through clenched teeth as he stormed out of the talan.

He did not hear Celeborn’s sigh of disappointment, nor feel his eyes watching him make his way into the forest, and he certainly did not see the small smile Celeborn allowed himself as he reflected on the notion that although neither would admit it, in their stubbornness, Oropher and Galadriel were of the same mould, and thus the conflict between the two would not be easily resolved.

“It seems to me that you are being shown as much disrespect for the way you choose to live as you are being accused of showing towards Galadriel and Celeborn’s rule,” she said, putting her harp aside to take Oropher’s hands in hers causing him to give her his full attention. “You must follow the path that has been set, no matter how difficult, just as they must, as is the will of the Valar.”

“Ai, you speak wisely, my lady,” he replied, his heart feeling a little lighter. They held each other’s gaze for a moment longer, ending it when their lips met in a sweet kiss that both sensed promised nothing more than a deep friendship.

“It seems we are not destined to travel the path of love together,” Tariel sighed sadly as they parted. “However, I hear there will be some new faces at the feast tomorrow evening.”

“Ai and I take it you think our true loves will be among them?” teased Oropher.

“Only the Valar know the answer to that,” laughed Tariel, accepting his hand as they made their way back to Calas Galadhon.

Later that evening, Oropher found sleep eluded him, for he was troubled more than he cared to admit by the increasing distance between himself and Celeborn. Without conscious thought he made his way deep into the wood and climbed into the comforting bough of his favourite mellorn. The familiar noises of the night went unnoticed as he allowed his mind to wander back over the unpleasantness of the dinner, and the sweetness of Tariel. As he recalled her words, he realised that she had in fact subtly accused him of being disrespectful, and although he was prepared to admit that might be the case, his feelings remained unchanged. A wisp of cloud passed overhead, momentarily blocking the soothing touch of starlight on his face, and he was overcome with a sense of dread that darkness would cross his path. The starlight returned, and he shook off his foreboding, and lifted his voice in a song of praise for the beauty of the jewels of the sky.

Celeborn stood silently in the archway that served as a door to the talan, and continued to peer out into the darkness long after Oropher had disappeared from view. Although he spoke not a word, to one who knew him well, his silence was but an indication of his anger and frustration at being forced to act as mediator between the two strong willed Elves in his life, who both should have learned how to hold a civil conversation by now, and he was also was furious with Oropher for expecting him to take sides. It distressed him to have to hurt his friend with his refusal, because it was his beloved who ever had his loyalty and support, just as he had hers.

“What are you thinking, my love?’ asked Galadriel calmly as she came to stand by his side, offering comfort to the distress she sensed her husband was feeling.

“I was merely reflecting on how alike you and Oropher are in some ways,” he replied as he placed his arm about her shoulders and drew her close. Galadriel looked at him with displeasure when she realised that he had not spoken in jest.

“That we both love you I freely admit, but I was not aware we had anything else in common,” she said, her anger vanishing to be replaced by a tingle of pleasure when Celeborn kissed her hair softly as she laid her head against his chest.

“I was thinking that you are alike in your stubbornness, but perhaps it is the fact that you are both fiercely proud of your kin and your heritage that keeps you two at odds,” he said.

“I can not deny that the actions of some of the Noldor deserve his wrath, and that of the other Elves, but we are not all the same, just as the Sindar and Silvan Elves are different. It confuses me that Oropher accepts a Noldo, as your wife, yet when it comes to leadership he cannot see past his prejudice, an attitude in which he is not alone. Come, the night is still young, let us not dwell on that which mere words will not alter. I am only sorry our animosity causes you such pain,” said Galadriel as she lead Celeborn back inside away from his melancholy watch. “Would it help if I admitted that I actually hold him in great respect, not for his opinions, but for his willingness to speak his heart and his mind,” she said, smiling as she felt Celeborn’s eyebrows lift in surprise.

“Perhaps it is Oropher you should be telling this to,” Celeborn dared to suggest.

“There is certainly a measure of truth in that observation,” Celeborn agreed, “but I think the real reason you make no friendly overtures is that you like arguing with him,” he teased.

“Not exactly, but you know as well as I that it is unlikely that we will ever speak as friends, yet it is not the heated words I enjoy, but the fact that he is one of the very few who are not intimidated by me. It is refreshing to be spoken to with such honesty,” she explained.

“Oropher does not bandy sweet words to achieve his goals, and he is considered extremely arrogant by some of his peers. Hey are almost as afraid of him as they are of me,” declared Galadriel unable to contain her amusement.

Celeborn was also amused at Galadriel’s perception of herself, for it was accurate although he had never told her so. Many of the exiled Noldor and the Sindar who now resided in Lothlórien were afraid of the mysterious Lady of the Wood.

“Then I expect I may look forward to acting as intermediary to many such ‘discussions’ in the future?” asked Celeborn, not entirely happy with the prospect. Galadriel sensed his unease with his role and turned to face him.

“You may need to, if you do not wish to lose his friendship. You and I love this realm we have created, and you will ever be the keeper of my heart, but do not distance yourself from you kin out of love for me, or disapproval of our arguments,” she entreated.

“I fear my feet are already travelling that path after tonight,” he sighed sadly.

“Then perhaps you should seek him out before the distance becomes too great, and see if you cannot forge an agreement for certain level of tolerance,” she suggested as she wrapped her arms about her husband’s waist. Celeborn was humbled by the depth of her love for him that spoke to his heart with her offer to at least try and abide Oropher for his sake.

“Nay, I think it best to leave him to his thoughts for now,” replied Celeborn who knew his kinsman well enough to realise that there would be no point in speaking to him until his rage had calmed. “Besides, it is you who commands my attention right now and I feel you are in need of tender words and a loving touch. Shall we retire?” he asked, kissing his wife passionately to ensure his meaning was well understood.

As twilight fell on Caras Galadhon the following day, Celeborn decided to try and speak with Oropher, but finding his talan empty, he chose to take a walk in the woods instead. As he wandered among the trees, listening to their whispering voices, he was surprised to hear music coming from the clearing he knew lay up ahead. For reasons he could not explain, he felt the urge to approach unseen, and he remained out of sight as he watched in fascination the merrymaking of a large group of Silvan Elves. Eyes full of life shone brightly and golden hair glinted in the starlight as the dancers twirled gaily by, and he drew in a breath as he saw Oropher was one of them. The Sindar noble he should have seen was nowhere in evidence, his robes and boots discarded in favour of tunic and leggings in the brown and green hues of the Wood Elves. His feet were bare, his golden hair hung unbraided and the light in his eyes spoke of such happiness and love of life as Celeborn had never seen before. There was no denying that this was truly where Oropher belonged.

The Lord of Lothlórien watched the gaiety for quite some time, observing that many other Sindar were also present, and he was surprised to note that Oropher obviously favoured dancing with one particular maid. It pained Celeborn to realise just how little he really knew of his friend, and he resolved to learn all he could…. another time, for he had no intention of interrupting the revelry.

Oropher felt as if he was being watched, and briefly spared a searching glance into the surrounding wood, but seeing nothing, except for a wink of approval from the mischievous Tariel, he returned his attention back to the lovely maid in his arms. Amiel had just arrived in Lothlórien, but Oropher felt in his heart that he had known her all his life. Tariel had unknowingly spoken the truth when she suggested one of them would meet their soul mate this night; for Oropher had no doubt that he had done just that.

As soon as Amiel had entered the clearing, he had felt as if tender fingers were pulling at his heart, drawing him closer to the beautiful maid who Tariel was leading in his direction.

“Oropher, this is Amiel, the daughter of one of the Sindar nobles who once resided in Doriath,” said Tariel as she introduced her companion.

“I am pleased to meet you, my lady,” said Oropher, kissing her hand lightly with his usual display of charm.

“Tariel has told me much about you, and you are even more beautiful than she described. I feel as if we have met before. Perhaps in Doriath?” she asked, equally disconcerted by the strange feeling of recognition. The music in her voice was mesmerising and Oropher momentarily lost all sense of reason as he felt the tingle of the melody surge through his body.

“Nay, for had I met you there, we would still be together now,” declared Oropher with certainty, a delicate blush tingeing his cheeks as he realised what he had just said.

“That is rather forward, even for you, Oropher,” admonished Tariel, secretly delighted with her friend’s discomfiture, and the feelings she realised provoked it. Oropher had finally given his heart in love.

“Ai, please forgive me, Amiel, I seem to have lost control of my words. I meant no offence,” he said with undisguised passion in his eyes and a smile that melted her heart.

“They were beautiful words, and gave me no offence, only hope that the feeling in my heart may be returned in kind,” Amiel replied, returning his gaze in kind.

“Would you dance with me?” asked Oropher after a sharp poke in his ribs from Tariel focussed his attention on his surroundings rather than the depths of Amiel’s eyes.

“Of course,” she replied taking his hand as they made their way to the dance circle.

Neither accepted any other offers to dance that night, and when they slipped away to find a more private place to talk, they found words unnecessary as their lips met and their hearts sang in unison.

Silver and Gold

Chapter 3.

Celeborn tried to arrange a meeting with Oropher on numerous occasions following their angry parting, but the Sindar was proving to be extremely elusive. He had not returned to his talan, as Celeborn discovered when he saw his unread message still pinned to the curtain that covered the doorway and several weeks passed before their paths finally crossed, and even then it was by mere chance rather than design.

“So, I have found you at last!” Celeborn muttered to himself as he picked up the carefully folded robe that lay beside a pair of soft leather shoes that he recognised as belonging to Oropher. He looked up into the foliage of the tree beneath which the clothing had been left and called to his quarry.

“Oropher! Come down here, I wish to speak to you!”

“But I have only just made myself comfortable,” protested Oropher as he peered down at the silver haired Elf lord. “You must come up here if you wish to speak to me,” was the stubborn reply carried on silvery laughter. Celeborn sighed with exasperation and tried again.

“My attire is not suitable for climbing,” he said, indicating the voluminous robes he wore.

“Then put those heavy garments next to mine, unless of course you hesitate because you have forgotten how to climb without the aid of fancy stairs,” taunted Oropher, who now stood in full view on a wide branch midway up the tree. Celeborn was not surprised to see he was clad only in his under shirt and leggings, but he was astounded that his inner voice was urging him to do likewise. It had been so very long since he had walked freely among the treetops, and he was suddenly overwhelmed with the desire to do so.

“I have not forgotten how,” he answered sharply as he quickly shed his robe and boots and climbed nimbly up to join his friend. The branch was wide enough for them to sit facing each other, and for a few moments, no words were spoken as Celeborn allowed the serenity of the rustling leaves to wash over him. He took a deep breath of the sweet, warm air and sighed with pleasure as he felt the mellorn rumble a friendly welcome.

“Is this where you have been hiding of late?” Celeborn asked as he relaxed against the rough bark that covered the trunk of the ancient tree.

“Hiding?” scoffed Oropher.

“Ai, I have made at least three unsuccessful visits to your talan, and my messages have gone unanswered. If you were not hiding, where were you?” he asked insistently.

“In the woods, courting the lovely Amiel,” replied Oropher with softness in his voice that hinted at his love.

“The maid you were dancing with at the Silvan gathering a few weeks ago?” Celeborn enquired, realising too late what he had said. Oropher’s eyebrows rose in astonishment.

“How do you know who I was dancing with, mellon nin? I do not recall seeing you at the feast,” he commented. Celeborn made no reply, but his discomfiture was apparent to Oropher, who suddenly realised why. “Ai! Now that I think on it, I felt as if someone was watching us. Where were you? In the bushes?” he asked in jest, and laughing so hard that tears fell freely when Celeborn confirmed his unlikely guess with a nod.

“What ever possessed you to do such a thing?” Oropher asked when his laughter subsided.

“I was looking for you when I came upon the merrymaking, and I decided to remain out of sight watch rather than approach. I have never seen you so happy and carefree and I did not want to interrupt your fun,” Celeborn explained.

“I thank you for that, and am glad you finally saw me as I see myself,” he commented serious for but a moment until his mirth returned. “So you hid in the bushes? That is incredible. Does Galadriel know?” Oropher was unable to keep the astonishment from his voice or gleam of delight from his eyes at the image of the stately Lord of Lórien crouching behind a bush and spying on his kin.

“I do not believe I mentioned the incident to her,” replied Celeborn haughtily but with a grimace as he imagined what his wife would think of such behaviour. A brief flash of fear lit his eyes as he suddenly realised that Oropher was likely to use the information as a weapon the next time he and Galadriel had words regarding what they each considered to be appropriate behaviour.

“Then neither will I, it will remain our secret,” Oropher assured him as if reading his thoughts. “I doubt she would take too kindly to the knowledge, and I have no desire to see you two at odds.” Celeborn was both relieved and grateful for the reassurance until he saw the wicked gleam in Oropher’s eye. “However, I have no control over what the trees might tell her. How do you suppose she would react to learning that we are sitting up here in our undergarments?”

“She would expect such unseemly behaviour from you, and be disappointed in me for allowing you to convince me to do this,” replied Celeborn, stating the obvious. “But enough of that tell me more about your lady.”

“Amiel is her name, and I will be happy to speak of her until you fall asleep with boredom, but first tell me what was so important that you needed to persist in seeking me out?” enquired Oropher in all seriousness. “Surely you are not still angry with me for losing my temper with Galadriel the other evening?”

“My anger over your arguing has calmed, but you had no right to ask me to take your part against my wife,” Celeborn stated.

“So my love for Amiel has made me realise, and I see now how difficult it must be for you to be caught between your love for Galadriel and your affection for me. I hope you will forgive me for the pain I must have caused you,” Oropher said, reaching out to place his hand on Celeborn’s shoulder in a gesture of brotherly affection.

“I am amazed to see you in such a mellow mood, no doubt due to your lady’s influence. Does this mean you can learn to put your hated for the Noldor behind you? It has always been my heart’s desire that one day you and Galadriel would put aside your differences.” There was such hope in Celeborn’s voice that Oropher was loathe to answer, for his words could do nothing but hurt.

“I am sorry, but my feelings towards the Kinslayers and their descendant will never change, there is nothing so precious that warrants Elf slaying Elf. Anyway very soon you will no longer be forced to suffer from being caught between Galadriel and myself. I intend to leave Lothlórien.” Celeborn’s eyes widened with shock at the unexpected turn of events.

“You do not need to leave for my sake,” he said.

“In fact, I do. I would have you remain you as happy and relaxed as you are now, which you will no doubt find easier to do if you are not required to negotiate peace between Galadriel and myself all the time. But that is not the only reason. As you saw at the feast, I much prefer the simpler way of life, and find that the Noldor influence over both Sindar and Silvan Elves in Lothlórien is becoming overpowering. Do not misunderstand,” he said holding his hand up to silence the protest he could almost see forming on Celeborn’s lips, “just as I have the right to live my life as I choose, so do you and Galadriel and your followers. It is just that your choice is different from mine. Of course, now that those Dwarves are infesting Moria, and once again trading with some of the Elves here, I find leaving even more appealing,” explained Oropher.

“Where will you go?” Celeborn whispered sadly, as his imagined fear of being distanced from his friend was becoming a reality.

“Come, I will show you,” replied Oropher as he stood, jumped lightly onto the branch above and then continued to climb to the very top of the tree. There was only a small space for them both to stand, and he put his arm about Celeborn’s waist to anchor them both. “I am moving across the river to the Great Greenwood,” Oropher said, pointing to the forest that stretched further than even elvish eyes could see. “That is why I did not answer your summons, I have spent several weeks over there, scouting suitable locations to start another colony,” he explained.

“Are you going alone?” asked Celeborn as he continued to gaze at the forest. It was not far away, just a short row across the Anduin, but he wondered whether either of them would bother to travel the distance to meet in the future.

“After we are wed, Amiel is of course coming with me,” said Oropher, casually announcing his betrothal.

“I expect an invitation to the marriage ceremony, and I hope to meet Amiel at least once before then,” said Celeborn smiling with delight at the good news.

“I will brave your lady’s displeasure and bring mine to meet you both before we are married I promise, and I will personally invite Galadriel to attend the marriage feast with you. Perhaps Amiel will also have a good influence on your wife’s attitude towards me,” said Oropher lightly.

“No one influences Galadriel unless she wishes them to do so, as you well know, but she is welcome to try,” laughed Celeborn. “Are any others to be included in your new realm?”

Oropher frowned at that choice of words and became very serious.

“I do not style myself as a ruler, although it is undeniable that one is necessary to develop a new colony. Once I made my plans known, many of my friends, both Sindar and Silvan, expressed their intention to join me and look to me as their leader. I will accept the responsibility,” he explained.

“Then I take it you plan to merge the Silvan Elves with the Sindar who accompany you? It sounds to me that you are about to do in Greenwood what you accuse Galadriel and I of doing here,” observed Celeborn.

“Not at all, for I am not influencing anyone’s way of life but my own,” Oropher replied sharply. “I am going to live as leader of the Silvan Elves and the Sindar who desire to fully embrace the Silvan way of life, including the language, and who will freely follow me across the river. Those who do not will remain here with many of the Silvan who have also decided to stay.”

“Are you saying that some actually accept our rule over Lothlórien?” asked Celeborn with some surprise.

“Ai, some do, but others simply do not wish to move away from their homes and their kin who are also staying. So tell me, what do you think of my plans?” enquired Oropher as he turned to Celeborn.

“I heartily approve of your plans to wed, but it seems I must now learn how to row,” replied Celeborn as he placed his arm about Oropher’s waist and drew him close.

Silver and gold hair mingled in the breeze as the two stood silently, needing no words to affirm their friendship.

***************

“But as yet there was little to fear between the Greenwood and the Mountains and there was constant intercourse between his people and their kin across the River, until the War of the Last Alliance.” JRR Tolkien, Unfinished Tales ( Harper Collins 1998 ed, p334).

Silver and Gold by jenolas