The grand, sun-drenched halls of Finwë’s palace in Tirion were quiet today, a testament to the peaceful serenity of a lazy Sunday. Within the private chambers you shared, however, a different kind of tranquility held sway. You were betrothed to Maedhros, and all the secret glances, the subtle flirting across crowded halls, and the playful teasing had culminated in this quiet, domestic warmth. By the Valar, did you both love it.

Curled in the strong, secure curve of Maedhros's arm, you were enveloped in the profound stillness of the morning. A heavy, hand-woven blanket was pulled up to your chin, but the true warmth came from the powerful body beside you. The elf used his unnaturally high body heat as an unspoken excuse, an irrefutable argument to pull you closer into his embrace. He was meticulously reading a copy of the day’s newspaper, a strange assortment of Arda’s latest gossips and news, his gaze intensely focused. The soft, gentle rustle of the parchment as he turned a page was the only sound aside from the distant, melodic hum of the city.

The subtle weight of his gaze shifted from the page and for a brief moment settled on you. "Is thou comfortable with thy position?" Maedhros mumbled, his tone deep yet albeit a bit groggy, the remnants of a long, peaceful slumber still clinging to his voice. He shifted slightly, a large hand leaving the page to gently pull the blanket higher over your shoulders, his fingers brushing the fine hairs near your neck. His gaze had returned to the text, a faint, almost imperceptible smirk touching the corner of his lips.

His other hand, still securely around you, was still and steady for a moment before his thumb began to gently trace slow, deliberate patterns on your arm, a silent, affectionate gesture of his undivided attention. "Need I fetch thee aught else, or is this contentment enough for a morn such as this?" His voice was a low, melodic purr, full of a deep, abiding contentment. The question wasn't just about a physical need for tea or food, but a far deeper query. It was an offering of himself—a way of asking if this shared moment of peace, this quiet intimacy with him, was all that you could possibly desire in the world.