One day, as usual, Glorfindel woke up nice and early; all ready to spring up and go to work for the day. Now there was only one more task to do. He looked down.

As usual, there was an elf attached to him. A small elf nestled beneath Glorfindel's left arm with their head leaned on his breast, an arm and leg slung around his middle. A thin tendril of drool hung from full pouted lips, above a little pool of the stuff that lay an inch or so below his nipple.

Glorfindel frowned and reached over with his right arm to prod the elf with his index and middle fingers. "Lindir."

"Mfdadfutperqwf," the snuggling elf replied in a sluggish lilting voice, and snuggled closer to him, if that were possible. "I am sleepy. Be quiet." He licked his lips. The tendril of drool snapped.

"Lindir, I have to go to work." Glorfindel attempted to prise the elf from him. Lindir whimpered as he felt hands settle on his shoulders, pushing him away.

"No! No! Noooooo!" He clung harder; dug in his fingers. Suddenly, Glorfindel broke off his efforts with a cry of pained surprise.

"OW! You feral thing! You pinched me!"

"Want to sleeeeep!" Lindir wailed.

"Lindir! It is dawn and I have to go to work. Why do you always have to come to bed so late and snuggle me in this manner?" Glorfindel grunted as Lindir crawled further over him, still snuggling him tightly.

"Because..." the minstrel responded as he settled into a new resting spot: splayed right on top of Glorfindel, "...I am a minstrel. Minstrels work late and sleep late."

"Well... I understand that, but if you wish to sleep so late, why do you have to sleep on me?"

There was a pause. Then Lindir proposed. "Because you are warm and cuddly?"

"I am not a pillow, Lindir."

"Mmm." Lindir's sleep-imbued voice complacently corrected him of that notion.

"I am not even soft and flabby; not like a pillow at all. Why, I am hard and muscly and sweaty and..."

Lindir purred softly. "Oh, laaa, and I like it, darling!" He shifted his head and dug his teeth gently - playfully - into Glorfindel's nipple. Glorfindel hissed.

"Lindir, this is hardly the time." He struggled to unravel his legs from Lindir's and eventually, thanks to his superior strength to the minstrel's, managed to manoeuvre his legs out of the bed. Unfortunately, Lindir's legs followed his.

"Lindir, I am sitting up now. Sitting up right..." Glorfindel frowned at the elf lying supine on his chest, another strand of drool dangling from his mouth. "Are you already asleep?" He prodded Lindir again. The elf stirred with a soft moan.

"Whaaaa?"

"Wake up! Wake up, wake up, wake up." With each enunciation of the order, Glorfindel jabbed sharply at the elf's ribs. Lindir grumbled softly, but otherwise did not respond at all. His arms and legs remained firmly locked in Glorfindel's.

Glorfindel watched the light of dawn slowly wax inside his room. He wondered how long it would be before someone came to summon him... and help extract him.

As he waited, he considered all the possible wrestling manoeuvres he had ever learnt and wondered whether he should, at last, try one of them on his beloved leech. He looked down at Lindir who had fallen asleep again and was now snoring contently away on his chest, hands curled in Glorfindel's braids, his own unfettered hair a tumbleweed of tangles.

And then it came to him. Why, if Lindir could incapacitate him by sleeping on him, then surely, if he just rolled them over and reversed their positions, he could incapacitate Lindir!

And so he did. With a great whump! he rolled them over. Lindir yelped in pain as he hit the sheets and for a moment, for just a very brief moment, his grip slackened. With a grin, Glorfindel seized that moment to jump up and turn to skip away across the room. He paused by the wardrobe to observe his lover sit up and rub at his eyes with a curled hand, his lips drawn in a pout.

"Meanie." Lindir lowered his hand and glared petulantly at him.

"Sluggard."

"Meanie, meanie, meanie, meanie, meanie."

Glorfindel just smirked. "Go back to sleep, Lindir."

Lindir looked about the bed. Then he sniffed and crawled off it to come over to Glorfindel. "No point now," he said as he reached past Glorfindel to open the doors of the wardrobe. He pulled out his dressing gown.

"Eh?"

Lindir swung on the garment and sniffed again. "My pillow is gone."

Glorfindel watched the elf stalk off towards the bathroom, then, with a smile, hastened after him. He caught him just within the door. "Darling, halt," he whispered, wrapping an arm around the smaller elf. Then, gripping the elf's chin, he bent his head and pressed a kiss firmly to still pouting lips. "I love you too," he told the sleepy face. "And good morning." Then, still smiling, he turned and walked back into the bedroom.