'When you rock 'n' roll with me
No one else I'd rather be
Nobody here can do it for me
I'm in tears again
When you rock 'n' roll with me'
"Are you sure this is wise?"
"Of course I'm sure. I'm the king." A brief pause, and then: "You know there's no-one else I'd rather be with and certainly nowhere else I'd rather be."
There was the soft sound of silk sheets sliding over heated bodies, then the quiet was broken by the padding of feet across the marble floor. A drawer opened and closed, followed once again by the return of oddly dainty footsteps and the very faint creak of the wooden bed frame.
"You know, you move quietly for such a big elf."
"Yes, well -- I learned the hard way."
The two lay quietly for a time, luxuriating in their stolen embrace. Such moments were all too rare but they finally began to move in a much more rhythmic fashion, sweat and oil dripping onto the silk.
"Don't the laundresses ever wonder about the amount of oil
they find on your sheets?"
"You're forgetting my many charms."
"Charms indeed. I'll show--"
Just then the bed gave an ominous creak and crashed to the floor with enough force to rattle the windows. Within moments, it seemed there was a frantic pounding on the door.
"Lord Glorfindel! Are you alright? Do you need any help?"
"I'm fine, Erestor. Just one of my nightmares. Balrog, you know." He paused to glare down at the other elf. "Shut up, Gil," he mouthed silently, which only caused the king to shake with silent laughter. It was clear that he was desperately trying to keep quiet and not break into loud guffaws.
"Are you sure, my lord?"
"Quite sure, Erestor. Now please, let me try and go back to sleep."
"Very well then, my lord. If you're sure."
"Yes, Erestor." Glorfindel said with a sigh.
Erestor walked slowly down the hall, muttering to himself. "I will speak to the healers first thing in the morning. These nightmares of his seem to be getting worse; perhaps young Elrond will have a suggestion or two."
Chapter end notes:
Thank you to Glorfindel for suggesting the lyrics.