My first fic was about Fingon and I thought he deserved another go, because this first story was so flawed...! So the idea was to keep a few things from 'Starlight' (I'm not even sure I like this title anymore) and write a new story, a short one. I did keep the same female OC, although she has undergone a few changes, and I toned down the romance a lot. The starting point was mostly (very) cranky Fingon + tons of snow (I got the idea during winter!). And... that's it (I need help to find catchier titles, I know). I assume you all have an idea of how Aredhel disappeared.

Anyhow, I hope you will enjoy this story!

All credits to Tolkien.

Into the Blizzard

1. Gone

F.A. 316 - Pass of Aglon

Thick snowflakes were falling from the sky, covering the frozen grounds, and the world was slowly turning white, up and down. It was not the first snow of the season, yet this time it would most likely not melt before Spring was to come, and, from the tall dark pine trees to the sleek grey walls of the mountains, the land of Aglon had become eerily silent - this Winter was bitter already.

Fingon had not been expected so soon in Celegorm and Curufin's halls, although the messenger he had sent forth to announce his arrival had fulfilled his mission days ago. Yet since then he had ridden so swiftly, in such a frightful state of emergency, that he had reached his destination a week earlier than what had could have been assumed, and he was alone.

He had departed from Hithlum with few companions – they were all archers who had chased the Dragon with him some years ago - and he had chosen to cross Dorthonion, to travel as fast as possible. He had had little rest since he had left Eithel Sirion, not caring much for sleep, and his weariness only added up to his already dark mood. He had had no patience for delays of any sorts and had ended up leaving behind those who had journeyed with him, for they had become too slow for him.

At long last he had reached the pass of Aglon and since it was early dawn, only the guards were up, and nothing they said or did could convince him to stop – they had no idea who this lone Elf. Having passed the walls of the fortress, he boldly headed towards Celegorm and Curufin's halls and upon having jumped down his horse, he hurried to the wooden gates, not bothering to wait for anyone to welcome him. At that point, Fingon was beyond being concerned with protocol and he slammed the doors wide open, startling the servants who had been busy lighting fires in vast chimneys.

"Where are my cousins?" he bellowed, brushing away a few snowflakes caught in his dark hair.

Tall and terrible, he stood in the entrance and clad as he was in a thick woolen cloak, fox furs wrapped across his shoulders, he cared not for the cold wind that gushed inside the halls, threatening the feeble flames that had just been rising in the main hearth.

"Our masters are in their chambers, my Lord," said one of the servants, who had recognized him and had bowed deeply. "I shall go tell them you arrived, my Lord," he added, shrinking as Fingon glowered down at him.

The servant quickly walked away to his masters' quarters, leaving behind his poor colleague alone to face Fingon.

"And you, will you not help me take my cloak off and fetch me some hot beverage?" asked the Noldorin prince, briskly.

"At once, my Lord," mumbled the second servant, obeying diligently.

Fingon took a few steps towards one of the chimneys, seeking some warmth, but all he really dreamed of was to go back on his horse as soon as possible – he needed to go look for her, wherever she could have gone. He was still quite moody when another servant came to him, suggesting very courteously that he should wait for Celegorm and Curufin in a sitting room, but he complied nonetheless. They probably did not want him to remain in the main hall too long, as he had managed to scare everyone away within minutes and that had disturbed their quiet morning routine.

Fingon was pacing around the room, stopping from time to time by the window to check if the weather had improved - not at all, the gentle snowfall was turning into blizzard. The hot wine that had been brought to him with great care had been already forgotten, on the table where it had been put, along with a plate of food. In the end, he had not even taken his cloak off, thus melted snow had dripped all over the hardwood floor and the thick carpets laying on it. Yet Fingon minded not ruining his cousins' tapestries and he would have happily poured down all the wine on it as well, for thus was his frustration.

He felt the wind was howling within his chest too, and there was nothing he could do to soothe his torments. Cursed be winter, he thought, and cursed the bitter cold of the North! How could he ever hope to find her, in such awful weather conditions? How could he hope for her to be alive? His sister, his dear little sister, had gone missing a fortnight ago, and thus far all had failed to find any traces of her...

"Fingon, you rode fast," Celegorm said, as he entered the room, closely followed by Curufin.

"Not fast enough, I'm afraid."

Gazing at the brothers' faces, it would have been hard to decipher whether they were angry or relieved to see Fingon. Nonetheless, they greeted him in due forms, unimpressed by their cousin's sulky expression.

"The snow might make it near impossible for our hounds to track her, yet it shall not stop us from pursuing our researches," said Curufin, who, of the three, was the less tensed.

Celegorm, like Fingon, severely lacked sleep and these days he was prone to terrible fits of anger that only his brother and his nephew dared deal with. However, no one in his household held him accountable for it, for they knew it was merely the manifestation of his despair, and they pitied him more than they resented him for his awful mood.

"For how long though? Winter is harsh in these regions…"

"A fortnight, at best."

Fingon frowned and quickly inquired, "Do you have any clues as to where we should head first? Would she have tried to ride back to Gondolin perhaps?"

"We ruled out the road to the West, she had not intentions of going back there," answered Curufin, shaking his head.

"How can you be so sure of it?"

"Her friends, they told us," sneered Celegorm, his arms crossed on his chest. "And even though they have proven to be quite useless as of now, I do believe they are right about this. We have also assumed she would not have gone North either, which leaves the East, where Caranthir has been looking for her as well, and the South, the area between rivers Aros and Celon."

"Indeed, it seems quite plausible she would not have ridden back to Gondolin, indeed..." Fingon paused a while, pondering, then he asked, "Who are these friends you mentioned? Should I understand that some of my brother's guards have reached your halls?"

"No, but there were two ladies with her, some... close friends of hers," said Celegorm and he did nothing to hide his disdain.

"I presume you have already questioned them thoroughly."

"We did, but we thought you would want to hear for yourself what they have to say," said Curufin and, considering Fingon's worn attire, he added, "That is… if you are ready."

"Of course, I am."

"Should you not at least take off your cloak, dear cousin?"

"I should, indeed..." Fingon whispered and he finally seemed to realize he was no more outside and that there was no need for his fox furs and leather boots inside of his cousins' halls.

"I understand you would rather be riding in the wild, yet today we would be wasting our time and our strength..." Celegorm told him, grabbing his shoulder in a surprisingly gentle way. "This blizzard will not last long though and soon we shall be heading South."

Fingon nodded, meeting Celegorm's gaze – it mirrored his own uncertainties.

Aredhel had been traveling with two companions, dear friends she wished not be sundered from and who had agreed to follow her wherever she would lead them. These ladies Fingon was acquainted with already and he was not surprised when Celegorm and Curufin told him their names – he had expected to find at least one of them in Aglon.

Lady Heril was a Noldo whose family had followed lord Fingolfin into exile and she and Aredhel had befriended each other long ago, in Valinor. The two ladies were alike in temper, for they both shared the same love for wilderness, and often they had gone on long wanderings across the Undying Lands. It had only been natural for Heril to be part of Aredhel's escort, out of Gondolin, yet it was strange she had not been with the White Lady the day she had disappeared.

Aredhel's other close friend was lady Giliel, an Elf from the Falas, who was of lord Círdan's kin. This one was different, for she never was restless, and while she did enjoy riding, she had not much taste for hunting. Instead she was fond of more domestic occupations and was a renowned seamstress, excelling at embroidery. Her friendship with Aredhel was sometimes called odd, as they had quite different characters, yet it was exactly the reason they admired each other: Giliel marveled at Aredhel's fierce nature, while Aredhel respected Giliel's tempered wisdom.

These were the two ladies who had last seen Aredhel and their sorrow was great, as they could remember the very moment their friend had left them – forever, it seemed. Fingon greeted lady Heril first, and he noticed that, like it was the case for Celegorm and Curufin, there was something extinct about her, which was truly scary. He had hoped he would be provided with some optimism in Algon, he had hoped they would tell him they had found Aredhel, or that they knew exactly where she had gone, and why… Yet they all looked so stricken and haggard, whatever effort they put into behaving normally, that Fingon felt more and more overwhelmed with his own distress.

"My Lord, it is a great relief to finally see you," said Heril and it was clear she had been waiting for him to come, as if he alone could put an end to this terrible situation.

"I rode as fast as I could…" he muttered, "I am glad to find you both here."

He turned around to face Giliel, nodding briefly at her.

And there it was. When her pale gaze met his, he felt it, this little shock. Time and grief could have weakened such reaction from his part, however it had not. On the contrary, Fingon was aware of her presence more than ever and for a split second, it was as if the two of them were alone in the room. She sparkled, he thought, and it was pleasant to merely look at her, for he welcomed again a secret joy he had he had tasted before. Yet this time it startled him, perhaps because it seems inappropriate to find any sort of delight in her sight while his mind should have been turned towards a single goal, finding his sister. And so, after having cleared his throat, he limited himself to a few common civilities, pushing away any other thoughts, to which Giliel answered with equally prosaic words of greetings.

Then came the time for serious questions and Fingon sat down to ask both ladies to tell him about the last weeks they had spent with his sister. He would have liked to be able to maintain a cool composure, yet he could not help but twist his hands nervously as he listened to what Heril and Giliel had to say – what if they were about to reveal some terrible secrets about Aredhel?

"As you may already know, my Lord, when Aredhel decided we would come here, in Aglon, instead of going to Hithlum, we first tried to pass through Doriath, bidding the Doriathrim to let us enter their woods," said Heril, who spoke first. "Such access was however denied to us and we had to resolve ourselves to cross Nan Dungortheb despite the dreadful creatures lurking there. That was where Aredhel, Giliel and I were separated from the others, due to a mist so thick that we barely could see our own horses' ears. It was some unnatural phenomenon if you ask me…"

"And those brave Gondolindrim lords did not bother looking for you very long, did they? I say, they were rather quick to go back to their hidden city," muttered Celegorm loud enough for everyone to hear him. "What a worthy escort Aredhel was given…"

"I see no reasons we should not believe that lord Echtelion has done his best to find the princess at the time", replied lady Heril, through clenched teeth. "He surely spared no efforts to accomplish the mission the King had trust him with and if he has failed, then surely none could have done better."

It was clear these two had gone over this argument a few times already and that they probably would not mind fighting over it once more, but Fingon's presence helped them to keep some decorum – they did glare at each other for a few seconds nonetheless.

"I am convinced lord Echtelion did everything in his power to track Aredhel, but Nan Dungortheb is a dark land where the dreadful children of Ungoliant crawl everywhere and he might have had some troubles of his own to deal with, back then," said Fingon, who had no doubt concerning Ecthelion's bravery.

"Alas, we have yet to receive tidings from him or any of the Gondolindrim who rode with us," sighed Heril and after a small pause, she resumed her story, "After having crossed the river Aros, Aredhel, Giliel and I eventually reached these halls where we were welcomed by lord Celebrimbor and thus we thought we were safe, at last."

"When was that?"

"A month ago, my Lord. Upon our arrival, we were told lord Celegorm and lord Curufin were away, hunting, but we could rest here while waiting for them and that was quite enough to satisfy us at the time. It never occurred to me that… Oh, well, Aredhel, she... she was so happy to be out of Gondolin... Not that she was miserable dwelling there, yet she yearned ever for vast lands, great forests, rivers and... such things. Thus, barely a few days had passed before she became restless once more and she wished not to remain idle while her cousins were gone."

So far Heril's tale did not bring anything new to what Fingon had already been told, but he somehow needed to hear it again, from an actual witness of the events.

"Did you not accompany her, on her wanderings?" he inquired.

"We did at first, but every time she wanted to ride farther than the previous day and she became daring, overlooking dangers such as Orcs and other foul enemies from the North. She even mocked us for warning her about it, calling us 'soft little ladies'... Then the weather became colder, oft it would snow on mornings and we did our best to convince Aredhel it would be wiser to wait for lord Celegorm and lord Curufin's return before undertaking any other travel. And for a while, she listened to us, but for a while only..."

Lady Heril, lowering her face, began shedding tears and Giliel took one of her hands in hers, in a vain attempt to comfort her. Standing by the hearth, Curufin gestured at one of the servants who came back quickly, carrying a handkerchief and a hot beverage, while Celegorm was staring at the snow through the window, oblivious of what was going on in the room – or so it seemed.

Fingon would have liked to come up with a few hopeful words, but he found he was too weary himself to be of any use with this sort of things – and it'd feel like he would be lying. He simply waited, till Giliel took upon herself to tell him about the last time she and Heril had seen Aredhel.

"One day, Aredhel and lord Celebrimbor argued during dinner over some silly matter, something that should have not caused such a stir," Giliel told Fingon, as she was patiently wiping away the tears from Heril's eyes. "In retrospective, I would say that we all failed to notice how much Aredhel was longing to travel throughout Beleriand, how frustrated she felt. Since her desire to wander was still unfulfilled, it made her rather… upset at times and that day her anger blew up suddenly. I… I believed I had managed to reason her, to calm her down, and she did apologize to lord Celebrimbor before retiring to her chambers. However next morning we realized she was gone… she had left before dawn. No one had seen her leave the fortress, not even the squires or the guards, and since then, we have sought her, vainly…"

A heavy silence fell in the room and everyone was carefully avoiding looking at Fingon. He felt devastated, even more than on the stormy day a messenger had arrived in Hithlum, carrying the awful tidings about his sister's disappearance.

"Were there places she had taken a liking to, in this area?" Fingon finally managed to ask, with great effort. "Anywhere she would have gone to first…?"

"We traveled to most of these places already, my Lord, but there was nothing there for us to find, I'm afraid," said Giliel, in a sympathetic tone.

She was afflicted by her friend's loss, yet she felt sorrier for Fingon than for herself, and she wished she could have given him something to hope for, somehow.

But now that he was in Aglon, Fingon could no more fool himself into thinking that Aredhel would reappear soon or that Celegorm and Curufin had simply not known where to look for. What more could he do than the Fëanorians, who knew their lands so thoroughly? What could he sense that Huan, the hound of Valinor, could not? What could he guess about Aredhel's behavior that her friends had not already understood?

"Our eyesight is keen, Fingon, and our hounds are the best of all Beleriand," Celegorm said, still gazing at the snowflakes. "Trust me, it is only a matter of time before we find her."

"Indeed…" whispered Fingon, somberly.

There was one question Fingon had not yet dared to ask, though. Celegorm and Curufin had ruled out the North during their searches, deeming that even Aredhel was not reckless enough to venture there alone. Yet what if she had been brought there forcefully? What if Orcs had crossed her path? Surely Celegorm and Curufin would have known, had there been Orc skirmishes nearby Aglon, would have they not?

He'd ask later, he decided. For the moment, he wanted to be left alone to ponder, and he needed maps, plans and hope – a lot of hope.

I don't especially ship Aredhel/Celegorm (I've always wondered why Tolkien specified that Aredhel did not marry any of the Fëanorians, could it have even happened? Aren't they too closely related or are half-cousins alright?) or Aredhel/Eöl, but I do believe Celegorm loved her especially whether it was platonic or not.