Legacies of Greenwood

None of the characters that you recognize are mine, the rest are either from one of the books by Tolkien that you haven't read, or they are my own.

Book One:
Oropher the Starborn

Varda created the stars and set them out into the sky, and upon Arda, near the lake of Cuiviénen, the Firstborn awoke.

Orodfaer opened his eyes and gasped in amazement at his first sight – the stars.

They glittered like the purest jewels and twinkled happily in the dark sky, like nothing ever before.

He blinked and turned his head sideways, as the brilliance of the stars threatened to blind him. When he opened his eyes again he saw the forests on the mountain slopes and his heart was moved.

With a loving cry Orodfaer jumped to his feet and began, uncertainly, taking uneven, wobbly first steps towards the trees that seemed to beckon to him to climb in their branches and sing under their eaves. He opened his mouth and let the tune that sang in the back of his mind to take over; over the still water and swaying branches came the blessed melody of Iluvatar, and the trees were happy.

After three attempts and two banged up knees, Orodfaer figured out how he was to stay steady upon his legs and, with a mad dash, sprinted to the trees, through them, and far up into the wooded hills around the base of the mountain, singing all the while.

He climbed higher and higher, greeting each tree in the forest with his song, wrapping his long, slender arms around the bases of the trees.

When the ground became too steep to climb and the rocks too slippery, the trees welcomed him into their branches and made a bridge for him to climb nearly to the pinnacle of the mountain.

When Orodfaer finally ran out of trees that could bear him, he was so high up upon the mountain that the clear lake below looked so far in the distance that he wondered how long it had taken him to get that far.

Orodfaer knew no concept of time, and so he stayed long and dwelt up high on the mountain, exploring the forests and the caves. When he felt hunger, he taught himself to hunt for the small furry animals that lived in the forest. When he felt thirst he quenched it at the small mountain stream near the base of the hills.

The oldest trees in the woods told him many stories, tales that had traveled to them from trees more ancient than they. These stories told of great beings that sang, fought, and hunted in the west – and Orodfaer was amazed.

The trees told him of the great shepherd's of trees, and of strange beings that dwelt in the mountains that used sharpened stone and iron to cut down trees and burn them in fires.

The trees all seemed to hate these beings and, as they were the only beings Orodfaer knew, he hated these evil tree-killing things too.

It was many long years before Orodfaer ventured out of the woods and back to the lake – the trees told him that more of his kind was there.

Orodfaer walked out from under the eaves of the forest to the bright light on the lake's shore where many people were gathered around a fire.

Unsure as how to greet them, he simply stood silently near the edge of the group, yet it wasn't long before he was noticed by another such outsider.

A tall being with bronze hair and bright grey eyes walked up beside him and dipped his head; Orodfaer did the same in reply. He knew this token at least – the trees told him that the greatest of the beings in the west was the wind, and when the wind passed by they bowed their lofty branches to him.

Knowing not in which tongue this person spoke, Orodfaer quietly began speaking in the language of the trees. To his amazement and delight, the other spoke back in the same language.

"I am called dreamer, or Olwë, if you like. I have not seen you before, did you just awaken?"

Orodfaer shook his golden trussed head, "nay, I awoke a three seasons ago, in the calm cool time before the hot and rapid time which we have just passed out of."

Olwë tilted his head to the side in a confused manner.

"If you have been awake long, where have you been?"

"I lived up there," Orodfaer pointed towards the tall, wooded mountain. "The trees called me mountain spirit, so that is Orodfaer. I am Orodfaer."

Olwë extended his right hand towards the wood elf, "well met... Oradfir... Orodfur... Oronfer... how do I say your name?"

Orodfaer shrugged, "however you like."

That seemed to appease Olwë, who called out a different name.

"Elwë!"

Instantly another elf appeared, this one looked the exact same as Olwë, but had silver hair.

"Ai? Brother, who is this?"

Olwë gestured towards Orodfaer, "Elwë, this is Oropher. Oropher, this is my brother Elwë."

Elwë smiled, "Oropher. That is a strange name, though a good one. Well met, friend."

And so was the meeting of Elwë (King Elu Thingol of Doriath and Beriland) and Orodfaer (King Oropher of Greenwood the Great)