Fingon woke to the sound of his chamberlain shifting things in the room next to him. He moved his hand to his eyes and at the flicker of gold and blue realised he was still wearing his tunic. He did not remember when he had fallen asleep, but he had been exhausted. He slowly pushed himself up and leant his head in his hands. The sun had already risen. He was much later than usual.

A soft knock on the door interrupted his thoughts. "Sire, can I come in? Is all well?"

"Yes, come." Relieved he noticed that at least his voice sounded normal. He might not be able to hide his red-rimmed eyes, but he would not give them any further reason to gossip. Let them blame his many sleepless nights.

When his servant entered, he saw the worried expression on the man's face. "What is it? Is anything amiss?"

"No, not really, sire." The chamberlain hesitated, "it is just that the guards told me that the lord Maedhros was here to see you yesterday evening and it is not like Your Majesty to refuse him entrance."

"I did not wish to be disturbed." He had indeed ignored his cousin's pleas. He had not been able to stop his tears for long enough to answer him. All he had wanted was to be alone. No one could see his grief.

He started to change tunics while his servant folded some clothes. After a while Fingon noticed how he lingered, almost as if he had something more to say.

"What else is the matter? You know you can speak your mind."

"It is just that the guards told me that Lord Maedhros has returned a few times during the night. Apparently he only gave up just before sunrise."

"He did what?" Fingon whispered, shocked. Why had Maedhros not forced his way in, if he had needed him so? It was not as if he had not done so before. Of course that had been a lifetime ago, before he had become king. He heaved a frustrated sigh. "Send someone to him. Tell him I'm available now."

The chamberlain straightened the covers of the bed. "I will sire, as soon as I am done here."

Fingon paced his living room, and nearly jumped a foot in the air when he heard a knock on the door.

"Come in!"

However it was not the one he had been waiting for.

"Father! Father! Have you seen? There is snow outside, have you seen? Can I go and play before my lessons? Please? Pleasepleaseplease?"

The boy stormed towards him and hugged his waist, forcing him to step back a few paces from the impact. A smile curled his lips. "Why, you are up early, Ereinion! But yes, you can. As long as you dress warmly. We don't want that little curious nose of yours to freeze off." He grasped his son's nose between his two fingers and laughed out loud at Ereinion's subsequent mirth. "Go, penneth, and be back for breakfast before the second hour!"

"Thank you Atar!" The little one darted out the room again, and almost collapsed against another figure that chose that moment to open the door.

Maedhros narrowly escaped the crash. He smiled as he entered, shaking his head while Ereinion ducked underneath his arm. "Good morning to you too, Ereinion!"

" 'morning uncle!" Fingon could just hear his son scream through the empty hallway and he cringed. If all inhabitants of the palace had not been up yet, surely they would be wide awake now.

Maedhros laughed out loud, "Fingon, I think you're being paid back for all those times you did exactly the same thing to your own parents. He is so much like you when you were little."

"Your brother told me the same yesterday." Fingon sourly replied. "I do not think I was that loud though."

"True, you were infinitely worse." Maedhros replied with a twinkle in his eyes. "You asked to see me?"

Fingon gestured to the armchairs. "I was told that you were looking for me yesterday, cousin." He sobered and played with the signet ring that he wore around his finger. "I'm sorry I did not receive you. I… I needed some time alone."

Maedhros reached out and put his hand over his own fingers, effectively stopping him from fidgeting. "I doubt if being alone was the solution to whatever problem you are having, cousin. You look horrible. But I did not intent to force my company upon you. I wouldn't have returned during the night if I had not been in quite a panic myself."

"What happened?" Fingon looked up.

Maedhros sighed and leant back. "Maglor did not return yesterday."

Fingon wanted to say something, but was stopped by his cousin's raised hand.

"He is back now. Do not fret. Otherwise I would not sit here. It just took him longer than I had anticipated."

Fingon shook his head. "Was he still angry?"

Maedhros made a dismissive gesture, "We differed in our opinions and we had to talk. There were too many things left unspoken. You know how Maglor is."

"So he most definitely was still angry." Fingon dryly answered. "Sometimes I do indeed wonder, how one so great in voicing other people's emotions, fails time after time again to express his own feelings until it is too late."

"He just doesn't want to burden me – or anyone else for that matter." Maedhros stared out of the window, and Fingon followed his regard. Snowflakes whirled before the thick glass. Up and down, dancing to a tune only they could hear.

"Maglor had already said that the snow would be coming." Maedhros whispered after a while. They both knew what that meant.

Fingon rose and went to stand near the cold glass, his hands on his back. He dug his nails into his palms. "When do you leave?"

Maedhros joined him by the window. "I wish I could stay."

"When, Maedhros?"

"Latest tomorrow. We have a long journey ahead of us and Maglor does not want to tarry. He insists on making our stages short. We cannot tire the men, we need them."

Fingon nearly smiled. Leave it to Maglor to find a way to keep Maedhros from overexerting himself. "I understand."

"Spring will come again, my friend, do not doubt that. The light will always return. Auta i lómë, aure entuluva…."

"But when that light returns, Ereinion will leave." Fingon whispered. "There is nothing to look forward to this time, Maedhros." He looked into his cousin's stormy grey eyes.

"Aure entuluva. Light will come again." Maedhros said again, as if he was trying to convince himself too. "We've been through so much already Fingon, we've fought so hard. We just cannot give up now. You are not alone. There are so many people out there who look to you for guidance. You cannot give up. You owe it to your people, to our people. We have to keep their hopes up."

Fingon straightened his back. "Do not think that I do not know that. I will play my part. I will not forget the crown on my head."

"I do not doubt that at all." Maedhros softly said, "but you have to keep hope too, my friend. You cannot give up when Ereinion is gone. Especially not then. He needs you to fight on, to stay alive."

Fingon sighed. "I know that too." He paused a moment, "I told you that I did not understand my father, but perhaps I was wrong. I've been thinking on it again last night. Perhaps I understand him better than I have wanted to acknowledge. Sometimes, to fear the blow that you expect to land, to dread the pain that you know will come, to know that destiny threatens to strike, is far worse than just to face the agony headfirst."

"Perhaps."

Fingon blinked a few times. "If I have to move on, I will need something to look forward to. And I will need your help."

"I'm listening."

"Let us make a plan. Ask Maglor how he has managed to get his spies past the enemy's lines before. Help him rebuild his troops." He stared at his cousin, who did not react and added, "I do not care how long it will take us to rebuild our troops. We have time. As soon as Ereinion is safe in the havens, there is nothing that will stop me from visiting you in Himring to discuss this further."

Maedhos sadly smiled. "You know, even though I fiercely disagreed with him, part of me wanted to believe Maglor when he assured me that you would change your mind before we left. I will do as you have asked, and perhaps more. And when the day finally comes that you decide to fight, I will be right there with you, and so will my brothers. You are not the only one who has to keep believing."

The next morning Fingon watched the Feanorian host ride out of his courtyard. The snow was melting in the pale sun, but he knew it was only a temporary thing. Soon all would be covered in a thick white blanket. A feeling of melancholy washed over him as he walked back into the keep. Now he was alone again, and he would be for a long time to come. But he would try to remember Maedhros' words. Somehow they had struck a chord deep inside.

Light would come again, the night would pass someday. He had to keep the faith.