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"Don't you think you should be answering those letters?" Caranthir asked sharply, the third time a messenger came from Himlad, from Celebrimbor, and Curufin took his son's letter and put it away without opening it.

Celegorm snorted and smirked as Curufin shook his head and replied, "No, no I do not. I left Telpe at Himlad because he needs the experience of being in charge by himself for a while."

At this, all Celegorm could do was laugh. Huan, who had been asleep with his head resting across Celegorm's knees, woke and looked at him in what could only be described as disappointment. Celegorm rubbed his ears comfortingly. "You know Curvo. If you leave it to him to teach a child how to swim, he'll toss that child into the middle of a river and have them swim to shore unaided."

Curufin shot him a distinctly unappreciative look. "I don't think these two situations are comparable," he said stiffly. "Telperinquar knows what to do; he just needs to be able to do it. He needs hands-on experience, and he's not going to get it with me breathing down his neck."

Celegorm grinned, but for Huan's sake didn't laugh. "You'd rather be breathing down his neck." Curufin glared at him. "No, no, I can tell. I don't think you've really relaxed for a full day since we left Himlad in Telperinquar's hands."

He was cornered, and knew it. Curufin didn't answer.

Caranthir made a harsh noise in the back of his throat. "Fine, don't answer your boy's letters. Don't even read them. Don't come to me for help if you return to Himlad and find it a smoking ruin."

"Oh, brother. It can not possibly be anything as serious as that."

-0-0-0-

"Father? Father!"

Contrary to Caranthir's prediction, Himlad was not a smoking ruin when Celegorm and Curufin returned to it. It was quite intact, just as they'd left it—the stones of the fortress seemed a little more weather-worn than they had when last Celegorm had laid eyes on them, but that was to be expected, and really wasn't anything to be concerned about.

Celebrimbor was right where they'd left him too, and no one could look more relieved to see his father and uncle returning to their home than Curufin's boy, as he came running up to them. Entirely too relieved, Celegorm noted with a frown. Celebrimbor's face was pale, his eyes shining over-bright, and it wasn't the gray sky alone that made him look that way. His brow was furrowed as though he had been spending many a sleepless night in worry. Himlad was still intact. Was there some other sort of crisis afoot?

Curufin seemed to sense none of his son's anxiety as he dismounted and handed his horse's reins off to a stable boy. "Well I'm glad to see you as well, Telperinquar." He raised an eyebrow at his son's rather wild-eyed expression. "There doesn't seem to be anything on fire, son." He peered over Celebrimbor's head for emphasis. "I don't see what could have you in such a state."

Normally, saying something like that would have been enough to give Celebrimbor back some of his equanimity. The assurance that his father wasn't angry and would probably help him with whatever problem had arisen usually gave him confidence. And Celegorm wasn't used to seeing him look quite so worried to start with. But today, Celebrimbor could not be reassured. He stared back and forth between each of them, pale and incredulous, shaking his head in disbelief.

Celegorm's frown deepened as he handed off his own horse. There was something shadowed behind Celebrimbor's eyes, something that gave him a strong sense of foreboding. Huan padded over to Celebrimbor and pressed against his side soothingly, but he didn't even seem to notice. "What's wrong, Telpe?"

At this, Celebrimbor's expression went from wild-eyed to downright panicked. "Did neither of you read any of my letters?" he asked shakily. "I've had riders scouring all of Himlad; I thought the reason you'd stayed in Thargelion for so many more months than you said you would was because you were searching there as well."

There was laughter in Curufin's voice as he questioned, "Searching for what?", but that laughter was starting to sound a little uncertain.

The look that stole over Celebrimbor's face in response was almost pitying—no small feat, considering that he still looked panicked as well. "You won't be laughing when I tell you. It's Irissë. She went missing here last winter."

"Irissë?!"

Had he shouted? They were both looking at him as though he had. Still at Celebrimbor's side, Huan flattened his ears against his head and looked at him anxiously. To Celegorm though, all had gone silent. The wind dropped out of hearing, the guardsmen's conversations vanished into nothingness. Even the beating of his heart was muffled. "She was here?" he asked, all the while telling himself that he didn't sound hoarse. "And… now, she's missing?"

Pitying still, but now devoid of panic, Celebrimbor nodded wordlessly. Curufin took over the conversation, grim and tense, putting a hand on his son's shoulder and motioning him inside. "Let's go inside. Tell me everything."

Celebrimbor told them his tale. Last summer, Aredhel had appeared outside of Himlad, leading a weary horse to safety and staggering a bit herself. She who had followed her brother to his hidden city and dwelled there with him for more than two hundred years had finally left, and had made for her cousins' lands. After being denied entry into Doriath, she and her escort had been forced to cross through Nan Dungortheb, and there had encountered Ungoliant's spawn. Aredhel had been separated from her escort, had long searched for them, but eventually the peril she faced forced her to leave the region and seek safety. She had been wounded—not badly, Celebrimbor assured them; she'd either caught none or negligible amounts of venom, and the main problem was the amount of blood she'd lost through the wound—and not being a healer, needed someone to see to her wound.

They'd received her courteously, Celebrimbor told them. The guardsmen on duty had recognized her; probably more miraculous was the fact that Celebrimbor had recognized her, considering how young he had been when last they met. Her wound had been seen to and she recovered quickly, back to her full strength within a week. There was no need to worry about her being somewhere in the wild, wounded and weak.

Aredhel had never planned on staying in Himlad for good; she'd made that clear from the beginning. She had, in fact, planned on moving on once Celegorm and Curufin returned from Thargelion, to Nargothrond, in fact. At this, Celebrimbor glared reproachfully at his father, saying that she had wanted to speak with them and he had sent letters conveying her desire, but all of his letters had, of course, gone unanswered. Curufin had the grace to look abashed.

"Did Irissë say what she wanted to speak with us about?" This was the first (only) time Celegorm interrupted his nephew's tale, and again he told himself that he did not sound hoarse. He told himself that he could hear his heart beating.

"No, Uncle. She didn't." Celebrimbor shifted his weight uncomfortably. "I did not think it meet to ask."

"You said earlier that Irissë went missing during the winter," Curufin interjected sharply. "What part of winter was it exactly, Telperinquar?"

It was easy to see what he was getting at. The snow had come late this past winter, but once it did, it was unusually heavy and deep for this part of Beleriand. Aredhel was hardy and resourceful. She knew how to survive in the wild, and by the winter she would have had months to recover from the wound she'd been dealt in Nan Dungortheb. All the same, a wise person wouldn't have put good money on her being able to survive the entire winter out in the wilderness, without aid or shelter.

Celebrimbor tilted his head to one side, brow furrowed as he remembered. "It was in the waning of the year; we'd yet to have any snow. Irissë…" He shrugged helplessly. "She went out riding one day, said she'd be back in a few hours. Her horse returned, certainly, and a right state the poor beast was in. But she never did. I… Like I said, Father, I've had riders searching for her here, but beyond that…" He faltered, shook his head. "…I really don't know what to do."

In the face of his son's nearly tearful pallor, Curufin could not remain stony, and he was rather pale himself, though he didn't show his worry otherwise. He put a comforting hand on Celebrimbor's shoulder. "Alright. I'll send messengers to Himring and Estolad and the Gap—if she was in Thargelion, we probably would have come across her there, but I'll let Carnistir know as well. To Hithlum, Dorthonion, Minas Tirith and Nargothrond as well, since Irissë had decided to move on to Nargothrond anyways." His gaze turned to Celegorm, and for the first time, Curufin's face was creased with hesitation. "Tyelkormo?"

"What? Oh… Yes. Yes, do it."

Curufin's pale eyes searched his face. Really starting to look worried, now. "I wouldn't put it past her to have made for Nargothrond without giving word," he said, even, measured, too much so.

Celegorm said nothing. They both knew better than that.

Celegorm felt… He felt… He would admit it. He felt breathless. He felt sick. Aredhel had been here. She had actually been here. When was the last time he'd seen her? In Hithlum. But she had been here. Why had she come here? And then, she'd gone missing, nearly six months ago. Six months. That seemed like such a short time. But then, the six months Aredhel would have spent waiting for them must have seemed like an eternity to her.

So where was she now?

Telpe, Telperinquar—Celebrimbor
Curvo—Curufin
Irissë—Aredhel
Carnistir—Caranthir
Tyelkormo—Celegorm