Disclaimer: All the characters in this story are the sole property of J.R.R. Tolkien, or his estate or whatever.  I’m not making any money from the use of these characters, and because I love them almost as much as he did, no harm is intended.  This is just for fun.

A/N: This story came about from re-reading the Silmarillion after watching the new film, the Phantom of the Opera.  Please note that while the events in this story are based upon the events in both the Silmarillion and The Return of the King, they are probably not what Tolkien intended. 
This is simply what I imagined may have actually happened.  No mention of a romance between Glorfindel and Aredhel Ar-Feiniel was ever mentioned by either Tolkien or his son, who edited the Silmarillion.  If you want a true accounting of what happened, please read the Silmarillion.  If you want to pretend, just for a little while, with me, then read on.
Please note that because I have a severe case of ADD, I write when the mood strikes me, so I don't know how long it will be until the next installment, or how many installments it will be, though I'm thinking it will be three.

Rating: PG-13 for some adult situations

Archive: Yes, please ask first though

~~~*~~~*~~~*~~~*~~~*~~~*~~~*~~~

A groan of frustration echoed through Imladris as the horses  trotted out of the gates and toward Lothlorien. 
Solemn elven faces  watched silently as the mortal in their midst stormed through the house slamming doors until he found the back gate and ran into the forest in a fury.
Tears blinded Aragorn as he escaped from the world that, until recently, had been the only home he’d ever really known.  Tree branches slapped his ungainly form as he plowed through the woods, leaving a rather obvious trail behind him.
Silently, a golden-haired form followed, his ancient eyes never losing sight of his young charge, despite the surprising speed the young man traveled at.
Finally, Aragorn ran out of steam and sank to the ground in frustration .  Elrond’s words still echoed in his ears., “You do not know what you ask of me.  Don’t take from her the life of the Eldar, Aragorn.  Don’t force her to die a mortal death.”
Love has a way of blinding even the wisest of eyes, and Aragorn was no different from any other living being. Mortal or Elf, love has the same power, and it now bound him to Arwen Undomiel, only daughter of Elrond Peredhil, with a chain that could never be broken, should the maid choose Life Eternal, or Certain Death.
Burying his face in his arms, Aragorn wished with all his heart that he were not born mortal.  It was a wish he had made a thousand times as a child, always smaller and weaker than his immortal guardians, never quite able to accomplish the deeds of strength, speed and balance that came naturally to his contemporaries among them.  This time, though, the wish was made for entirely different reasons; he longed with all his heart that Arwen could both love him and not hurt the Elf that had raised them both by being forced to choose Mortality to be with her beloved.
Although that choice was many years in the future for her, it pained Aragorn deeply that either his heart or Elrond’s heart would be broken, no matter what choice Arwen made.
As he lay weeping on the ground, a gentle hand landed on his shoulder, causing him to leap to his feet instinctively.  “Peace, young Dunedain.  I did not come to harm you, or bring accusations, but simply to offer what comfort I may.”
Glorfindel sank to the ground and gave Aragorn a look that strongly suggested he do the same. 
Wiping away his tears, Aragorn sat cross-legged face Glorfindel and gave him a glowering look.  “You’ve never been married, Glorfindel.  Elladan said you’ve never even courted anyone, so what do you know about being in love?”
“Elladan does not know everything, Estel.  There was a time, before I ever met Elrond, before I died defeating a Balrog during the Fall of Gondolin, when the Noldor were still powerful in Middle Earth, that I was indeed deeply in love with a maiden considered to be the most noble of ladies amongst the Noldor.  Her name even meant the same thing that your beloved’s name means: ‘Noble Elf’.
“Her name was Aredhel.”
“Wait,” Aragorn looked at Glorfindel in astonishment, “you mean Aredhel the White?  The daughter of Fingolfin who married Eol against her will and gave birth to Maeglin who brought about the destruction of Gondolin?”
With a small wince, Glorfindel nodded.  “Aye.  The one and the same, but there is more to the story than is told in the histories.  Some of it was lost because of the fall of Gondolin, some was left out, out of respect for that noble lady and myself.  Shall I tell you the true story?”
Eager for a respite, however brief, from his own heartache, Aragorn nodded, “yes please.  Tell me what really happened.”
Glorfindel’s eyes grew misty as he looked off into the distance, as his mind went back to a different time, when an evil far more powerful than Sauron stalked Middle Earth.  In truth Sauron was lieutenant to Morgoth, who began as one of the Valar, but became corrupted by jealously and hatred. 
When Feanor created the Silmarils from the light of the two trees that lit all the world, Morgoth rose up in his hatred and destroyed the trees and stole the Silmarils away from their creator, sparking a war that brought the Noldor from Valinor to Middle Earth, including Feanor’s half-brother, Fingolfin.
Fingolfin had two sons, Fingon and Turgon, and a daughter called Aredhel.  After Fingolfin died heroically in battle against Morgoth, Fingon and Turgon followed their father’s dream of building a city that mirrored their home city in Valinor, Tirion.
The new city was called Gondolin, and all the paths to it were hidden, to keep it safe from the power of the Dark Lord.  Fingon was killed in battle shortly before it was finished, so Turgon ruled the city as the rightful heir. 
Aredhel, his younger sister, dwelled there happily for many decades, for she had many suitors, Glorfindel, a Lord in his own right, among them.
In time, she chose Glorfindel as her betrothed, and the two of them would take many long walks in the beautiful gardens of the hidden city.
Glorfindel loved the feeling of her hand in his, the silky caress of her lips pressed lightly against his own, the softness of her skin when he caressed her cheek, but more than all of that, he loved her strength and courage, for the lady knew no fear.
In Valinor she had been known as the Huntress, for she could hunt as well as any warrior, rode better than most, and never backed down from a fight.  Being one of only two females with many male cousins and brothers may have accounted for that, for her cousin, Galadriel, was reputed even then for her own wisdom and power.
Whatever the reason, Glorfindel loved her more than life itself.  But in time, the lady grew restless inside the city, longing for the wide open fields she saw over the walls that kept her and her people safe.  She missed her cousins, who were actively fighting the war against Morgoth, and she missed the freedom she had cherished in Valinor.
So despite her brothers warnings, she took a contingent of guards and rode away from the city.  Loving her beyond all reason, Glorfindel was, of course, among those guards who were to see her safely to her cousin Celegorm’s encampment.
It was hoped, both by Glorfindel and Turgon, that this journey would satisfy her wanderlust for a time, at least until Morgoth could be defeated.  Sadly, their hopes were in vain.
Upon reaching Celegorm’s encampment, it was discovered that he was visiting his brother a few days journey away.  Though Glorfindel and the rest of her guards pleaded with the stubborn lady to wait, she could not be contained, and rode onward to find her cousin.
Faithfully, Glorfindel followed his beloved, even as the sun was setting in the west, and a storm was brewing in the east.
Aredhel pressed on through the night, Glorfindel by her side, the seven guards at their heels, even as the wind picked up and rain began to fall.
Wind whipped his golden hair around his face as Glorfindel signaled a halt.  “My lady, we cannot ride on further in this weather,” he called over the wailing wind.  “It is not safe!”
Aredhel nodded, her own dark curls blowing wildly in the wind as she met the eyes of her future husband with a smile.  “You’re right.  We should rest here and move on in the morning.”  She dismounted, her riding attire soaking wet from the rain, and led the uneasy horse to an area sheltered by several large trees.
Glorfindel and the guards followed, grateful for a chance to get some rest from the long journey.
Thunder clapped overhead as the nine elves settled down for some rest in the soft, dry pine needles.  Glorfindel and Aredhel sat a little ways away from the other seven.  His back was resting against a tall pine tree, her damp head against his chest as they murmured softly to one another. 
Nestling into the warmth provided by her beloved and his thick, wool cloak, Aredhel closed her eyes for a moment and listened to his steady heartbeat beneath the light armor he wore.
Stroking her silky hair affectionately, Glorfindel tightened his arms around her slender form, simply enjoying their closeness for a moment.  He lost track of time as he drifted into the elven version of sleep, his blue eyes open to the world around him, his mind wandering into the not-so-distant future, when he would marry the noble lady who dozed lightly in his arms.
Around the shelter created by the trees, the storm intensified, thunder booming in the nearby hills, and lightening crackling across the sky in a spectacular show put on by Eru himself.  While the seven guards marveled at the sight beside the crackling fire, with warm cups of tea in their hands, disaster struck.
Lightening connected with a tree far above their heads, splitting it down the middle and sparking a fire much more powerful than the cheerful little blaze they had been warming their hands over moments before.
The horses bolted, running away from the copse of trees and out onto the plains.  The guards gave chase, forgetting about Glorfindel and Aredhel for the moment, intent on catching their skittish mode of transportation before they got away completely.
Glorfindel and Aredhel were jerked from their comfortable nap when the prickly branches of the pine tree landed around them, inflicting many painful scratches, and bruises, but causing no real injuries to the young couple.
Rising to his feet, Glorfindel pulled Aredhel up behind him, and  unwittingly lead her in the opposite direction their guards went in a desperate attempt to get away from the fire that threatened to devour them.  Smoke threatened to choke them as they ducked into a  dark forest in an attempt to avoid the flames.  Glorfindel led his beloved to an outcropping of rocks that provided some protection while the rain that began to pour in earnest from the dark clouds above smothered the fire.
When the smoke and flames had cleared, Glorfindel and Aredhel rose to take stock of their situation.
“Where did you lead us?  I cannot see the way out!”  Aredhel looked around anxiously, toying with an errant curl that had sprung from her once-neat hair.
“I’m not sure, I was thinking only of finding a way to keep you safe, beloved.”  Glorfindel wiped a smudge of soot from her cheek.  “Don’t worry, we’ll be alright.”
She smiled up at him and rested her had on the hilt of her sword, “Of course we will.”
The pair climbed over the outcropping and found themselves at the edge of a vast forest, deep and dark, full of strange animal cries and trees so tall, they seemed to blot out the sun.  To their right was a narrow path, Aredhel spied it first and pointed, “Perhaps that path will lead us back out?”  Glorfindel nodded, and the two began to make their way towards it.
Meanwhile, the guards had caught up with the horses and managed to restore some semblance of calm amid the mad confusion that the errant lighting bolt at caused.  One guard, who was busy calming Aredhel’s horse for her, turned to the rest.  “Where is Lady Aredhel and Lord Glorfindel?”
The others looked around in confusion, then looked back at one another.  Another guard replied, “We’d best start searching for them, there are rumors of one of Morgoth’s dragons having a nest here.  There’s safety in numbers.”