This is of course AU and rather dark but it is also very likely what would have happened if Barahir had not managed to arrive exactly when he did. Tolkien himself says that Finrod would have been "slain or taken" so here is a thought on the fairest of the princes of the Noldor being dragged to Angbond.
And Finrod Fell
The Leaguer is broken, blown away like leaves in the cold north wind. Trampled under the iron-shod heels of the Lord of Fetters. To call it a defeat is too mild; it is a rout, a slaughter.
Angrod and Aegnor, stubborn and gallant have fallen. Not even their bodies survive the wreckage of Glaurung. Few if any of their people have escaped, and he does not wish to See where they have fled those grim survivors.
There are voices around him, most are harsh and uncaring as they speak of the king's fall. But he needs no rumor, no orc-scraps of intelligence. Fingolfin rode uncaring in defeat and challenged the Enemy, alone, unaided; a single elf against one of the Worldsingers. He wonders if his gift is indeed that, or rather a curse, doomed to watch his kin slain, however valiantly.
What joy is there in foresight when all he sees is darkness? When he had no warning before battle but a plenitude after it. When it still holds him in terrible embrace, shrinking at the life before him. No quick death in battle for him (and yet he cannot envy his brothers their rest), no gallant, hopeless charge in glory (and still he is glad that the High King's body was rescued, though there shall be none for him).
Wounded, stripped of his armor and clinging to consciousness by a thread he feels gentle arms around him, guarding him still even here in the hands of the enemy. And the hard, defiant spark flares anew, he who walked the ice and survived, who carved a kingdom with his own hands, who befriended elf, dwarf and man alike, he will not fade quietly into the darkness.
And perhaps some little good might come it after all, it maybe that with the Enemy's attention on him some other might escape. His city is still safe for as long as he is silent. He worries then for those with him, whose loyalty has led them here, an honor-guard for a captive king.
There will be no songs sung of this battle, no heroic stories of the last stand of Finarfin's son, nothing to reward courage or kindle compassion. But it is the battle he has been sent, lord of the youngest house though he is. To stand in the footprints of his elder cousin and still hope. To prove his words to Andreth in blood and tears, to hope beyond reason or wisdom. To trust even as he walks into the shadow.
Nota Bene:
Tolkien notes that like his sister Finrod is foresighted, so while not strictly canon it is hardly unlikely that a desperately wounded Finrod might also have to cope with Seeing the deaths of his brothers and uncle.
Shire Rose