Work Text:
Maglor had never liked the cold. It made his limbs stiff and his joints ache. It reminded him of the desperate times next to Lake Mithrim before the sun rose. It made him feel lonely. So, of course, Maedhros had to choose the most Valar forsaken corner of frozen hell to build his fortress. Now that he was here, Maglor was fairly certain that Maedhros had built his fortress here not for tactical reasons (though there were plenty), but rather to keep his brothers away.
This was his first time to visit the newly completely Himring and Maglor vowed that it would be the last. The day had been tolerable, but once the sun had set, the temperature had plunged. It was now cold enough inside the fortress that the glass of water sitting on his bedside table had completely frozen solid.
Maglor shivered and tried to huddle closer to the dying fire. Due to the rather scare supply of wood in the area, the fires were kept at the lowest possible blaze. It was a great solution to stretch wood rations, it was not a great solution to keep an elf warm. The fire in Maglor’s room barely heated the stone hearth, let alone his chilled frame. He pulled the blankets that he had stripped from his bed tighter around his shoulders and blew on his numb hands. A glance out of the window showed that he had only been sitting there for an hour. The night wasn’t even old yet.
Finally, he could take the cold no more. He knew where he could go to get warm. With his blankets draped over him in a makeshift cocoon, Maglor shuffled to Maedhros’ room.
"Timo?" He called plaintively, not caring that he sounded like a child.
Nothing stirred in the room.
When he received no answer, Maglor let himself in. The interior of the room was dark, save for a few glowing coals left on the hearth. In their dim light, Maedhros could be seen, sprawled on his bed, long limbs askew. It was just as cold here as in Maglor’s room.
After padding softly across the room, Maglor wormed into the bed next to his brother. Maedhros stirred slightly, but didn’t waken. That wasn’t surprising. Maedhros had always been a heavy sleeper. His time in Angband had made it worse. There were sometimes that his brothers were unable to waken him from his nightmares.
The change of temperature from being next to his brother was very noticeable. Maedhros was like a veritable furnace. Maglor snuggled closer, laying his head on Maedhros' broad chest. He let his brother’s nearness and warmth chase away the chill in his body and spirit. Pulling the blankets tighter, Maglor finally drifted off to sleep.
He didn’t stir unit Maedhros woke up.
"What are you doing in my bed Laurë?" Maedhros’ voice rumbled through his chest. The deep vibrations, combined with Maedhros’ steady heartbeat, were soothing to Maglor and he pressed closer to the sound.
"Warm," he murmured, still mostly in Irmo’s realm and not yet wiling to leave.
"Mmmh, yes, well, can you move?" Maedhros asked, "I have other things to do besides act as your pillow."
"Nope," Maglor sighed contentedly, "M staying right here."
Sleep was quickly tugging him back under. He stretched briefly and made sure that when he relaxed he was laying firmly atop his older brother.
"Really?" The sigh was both fond and frustrated. This was clearly not what Maedhros had wanted to do this morning.
Maglor responded with a halfhearted grunt. He pulled the blankets up over his face to block out the first morning light.
"You are ridiculous, you know that right?" Maedhros hummed.
Maglor didn’t answer.
It didn’t take Maedhros long to figure out that the musician had fallen back asleep. He sighed. He knew that technically he could move his younger brother, but if he was being honest, the physical contact made him feel safe. Maedhros carded his hand through his little brother’s sleep tangled hair. At the touch, Maglor began to snore ever so softly, an indication that he was sleeping soundly. It was a sound that Maedhros didn’t remember when he had heard it last. He smiled.
Maybe a few more minutes in bed wouldn’t hurt?