Despite the brightening of the days as spring approaches, there seems to be a scent of darkness in the air. I wonder what may be coming? But I keep my thoughts to myself on this. For now. Well, as much as I can...
Anaire: Husband. What keeps you up at this hour? Come to bed.
Fingolfin: *looks up from the book he's writing in* Sorry, love. I'm just putting down some thoughts for myself.
Anaire: Why not share them with me, instead? *goes over next to his chair and wraps her arms around his shoulders*
Fingolfin: *takes her hand to kiss it* There's no need to worry you with my unfounded fears.
Anaire: Your fears are rarely unfounded, husband.
Fingolfin: That's true. *nuzzles her hand* Still.
Anaire: As long as you will tell me, once you are certain.
Fingolfin: I always do, my wife. Do you doubt me? *looks up at her*
Anaire: No, I trust you. I always trust you, my lord husband, I could not love you if I did not.
Fingolfin: Good. *closing his book and setting aside his pen*
Anaire: Will you come now to bed, then? Or are there other matters that need keep you up?
Fingolfin: Nothing more important than you, though I think there are things I should look to.
Anaire: Can I help?
Fingolfin: You do just by being mine, An. *pulls her down into his lap and hugs her*
Anaire: *returns his embrace* It always pleases me to be that. Now come to bed. There is nothing that cannot wait for the morrow.
Fingolfin: That, I suppose, is true.
Anaire: *nods and rises, taking his hands to lead him*
Fingolfin: *goes with*