A/N: Guys, I did some work on this, moved some stuff around and whatnot. I combined chapters 1 and 2, and then I added more to what used to be chapter 3 and it's now here as chapter 2. So if you read the first version, this will be the same plus some more. Give it a read and let me know how you feel about it!
Chapter Two: Disloyalty
The war hall always had torches burning along the columns, the only light that the council could read their maps by. Hollith had never liked it down there; it was scarcely less menacing than the dungeons below, and equally as dank and suffocating. But Laethe didn't know how his brother truly felt about the war room. To him, the war hall was symbolic of Hollith and all the things that he stood for. For two years, Laethe had taken comfort in nestling himself in Hollith's chair during council, pulling his knees up to his chest without a care how childish it made him look, because he had Hollith's burning spirit enshrouding him when he sat in his brother's chair.
Today, though, Laethe had to make way for his brother in the chair to the king's immediate right, and settle for the one next to it. It was a fair trade, of course. He would most definitely rather have Hollith back.
"Now that my son has returned home, we must decide our next objective."
Laethe, from where his head rested in his hand, watched his father for about as long as he listened to the old man open the meeting by stating the obvious purpose of this council. One sentence later, the younger prince was twisting a section of his hair, his eyes gradually drifting to his left. He would never tire of watching Hollith, studying him, memorizing the map of his face. What he would give for the attention that Hollith was giving to their father's words. What would it take to usurp Hollith's thoughts, to rise to the forefront of his mind, to be his prime focus? If there was peace, if there were no more battles to distract Hollith, if only Laethe could have the opportunity to just be with him...
Laethe's gaze must have penetrated deeper than he thought, like scratching fingernails rather than a whispering breath. Hollith felt him staring, and turned to meet his eyes. An expression meant to chastise Laethe for not paying attention overtook Hollith's features, to which Laethe responded with a sportive grin. He averted his eyes, redirecting them at their father, but his hand strayed. It found its way over the arm of Hollith's chair before resting on his leg. Laethe drummed his fingers lightly on his brother's thigh a few times, Hollith's only reaction a slight tightening of his lips as he fought to ignore the touch. That wouldn't do. Refusing to be ignored, Laethe took to stroking the elder prince's leg, dragging his fingers up from knee to hip, and then back down again once more.
Hollith squirmed noticeably in his chair at the odd sensuality of what had once been Laethe's innocent cries for his brother's attention. In his younger years, Laethe would often prod or jab Hollith beneath the table to draw his eyes, but this was different. This was childish, but not innocent. Flirtatious, if Hollith didn't know any better. He caught Laethe's hand underneath his own, trapping it there on his thigh because he didn't know what else to do about it without causing a commotion. Daring a glance at Laethe revealed mischievous intentions. What exactly those intentions were, though, Hollith wasn't sure. Was Laethe just being an imp for the sake of it? Why did he think now was the time for play?
"Hollith, you suggested launching an offensive against Lofthale in retaliation for their attack on our city just yesterday. Have you changed your mind?"
The king's tone hinted that he was reiterating a question that he had already asked once and received no answer to. Hollith shook his head vigorously, not only to indicate a negative, but also to clear the bit of fog that Laethe's little game had caused to settle in his mind. "No, I have not changed my mind, your majesty. I still stand by my words from yesterday. The new king of Lofthale has demonstrated his intent to wage war with us; it is clear that once they regroup they will return. We must not give them that chance. We should strike now, while they are vulnerable."
At his words, Hollith felt Laethe trying to recoil, but he held fast to his brother's hand. The abrupt change of the weather, a playful breeze suddenly turning into a gnashing wind. But a sailor could not allow the direction of the wind to determine his path, and so Hollith would not let Laethe's turbulent temperament affect him.
The very man who had warned Hollith of his brother's shifting moods was the next to speak. Felowin's voice expressed dissent. "I must disagree with the prince, unfortunately. We too are vulnerable, recovering not only from their attack, but also from Prince Hollith's absence."
Laethe pulled against Hollith as best he could without drawing any attention, but he was the weaker of the two and failed to escape his brother's grip. He was being forced to stay at Hollith's side. And however furious Laethe was with Hollith's cries for battle, the feeling of being held in place by Hollith gave him a sense of satisfaction.
"Vulnerable? To what are we vulnerable, Felowin? The only threat at present is Lofthale, and if we are attacking them, we don't very well need to worry about them attacking us," said a new voice, a general named Pallock.
Felowin was not prepared to announce to the entire council that he feared danger from inside the city walls. He did not know who he could trust, and he didn't want any of the suspected traitors to know that he was onto them.
When Felowin did not defend his position, Laethe spoke up in his place. "General, do you wish to go to war merely for the sake of your pride?" He turned to his brother briefly, making eye contact and holding it a moment before facing outward toward the council once more. "Are we here to discuss how we can get back at Lofthale for their insolence? Or do you truly fear them? Are we truly worried about a ragged group of miscreants under the command of an unestablished king? This issue demands that we be honest with our intentions and weigh their virtue."
For a few seconds, there was silence, and Laethe was sure that he had dealt the opposition a blow to crush their arguments.
But, despite his triumphant hopes, all Laethe had really done was lift the restraints that had been keeping the discussion civil. By questioning the integrity of those who sought to go to war, he had given them permission to lay siege to his own conscience.
Pallock scoffed, his lip curling in a cruel sneer. "Who are you, boy, to think you have earned the right to speak among us? How many men have you led into battle? How many soldiers have you watched die? Obviously not enough to teach you the value of a man's life. We drove back the armies of Lofthale, but at what cost? Do you think that because the plains were not stained with blood, that the sacrifice made by those who perished at the hands of Lofthale—few though they may have been—was any less than those who gave their lives in the war six years ago? The loss of a single man is the greatest tragedy of our people. Perhaps you are content to sit cozy in your safe place, Prince, but the rest of us have not this luxury. I suggest that you leave the decisions to those of us who have actually seen the true horror of the battlefield. Those of us, like your brother, who would rather stand up and fight tyranny in honor of our friends who have given their lives doing the same, than sit back and idly subject those we believe beneath us to serve as our shields."
Laethe felt the brutal lashes of Pallock's tongue cutting into him, slicing deep down to his pride. Neither his father nor his brother came to help soothe the sting of the verbal blows that came down upon him, and he himself certainly had no response. The kingdom of Wesfeld did not honor men for birthright alone; a prince who had not earned respect was not granted it and Laethe would be held accountable for his words. He was left to withdraw alone into his mind and stew in the bitterness of defeat silently for the remainder of the council, the exchange of words around him muddled together with no meaning. The echoes of Pallock's harsh accusations bounced erratically about Laethe's head, deafening him.
Hollith wished that he could defend Laethe from the scathing rant, but he couldn't deny the truth in the point that Pallock had made. He didn't think any less of his brother, though; the foolish words Laethe had spoken betrayed not selfishness or cruelty as Pallock may have implied, rather naivety. Hopefully, it was a lesson well learned, and Laethe would now take care to thoroughly think his words through before speaking. He would not shield his brother from the blows, because a man only became stronger by learning what he was capable of enduring. He would, however, help Laethe back to his feet after sustaining a hit, and he held fast against his brother's continued attempts to yank their hands apart. If Laethe wanted to be angry with him, that was fine, but he wouldn't back down on this one. Eventually, the younger prince would realize that they had to remain loyal to one another and remain united despite disagreeing.
Throughout the remainder of the meeting, Laethe continued to fight against Hollith. Part of it was his anger at his brother for not standing in his defense, anger at him for trying to leave again for the battlefield. And he also kept struggling because he was worried that if he ever stopped, he was giving Hollith permission to let go and take for granted that he would always stay. If Laethe became passive, it would be all too easy for Hollith to forget him.
"The council is dismissed. We shall convene again in three days' time, after I have had time to take into account all that has been said here and come to a decision as to our course of action," the king finally announced. Three hours had passed since all the members of the council had entered the war hall that afternoon, and it was plain to see that keeping them there any longer would not bring them any closer to agreeing on a single plan. It was nearly an even split between those who stood behind Hollith's call to arms and those who thought it best to do as Felowin suggested and stay put for the time being.
As anxious as he was to get out of the stuffy dungeon, Hollith remained seated as all the other men flowed out the door. And Laethe had no choice but to stay behind as well. Soon, it was only the two princes and their father left in the room.
The strange behavior of his sons did not escape the king. He offered them a piece of advice before getting to his feet and sweeping past them for the door. "You will not always see eye to eye. But your quarrels must not leave this hall."
Neither of the princes moved or spoke until long after the last echoes of the closed door had been engulfed by the eerie silence of the now empty chamber.
"I do not need you on my side in this, Laethe," Hollith finally said. "But if you could find it in yourself to stand by me, that would lift my heart." His fingers slowly loosened their grip on his brother's, allowing him the choice to retreat if he wanted.
Drawing his hand away from Hollith's was like dragging a boulder through an overgrown field. It was grueling, and at the end of it, when his hand was safely in his own lap, Laethe was in agony. "It would be foolish of you to think that I don't wish exactly the same of you, Hollith. Two years ago I would have followed you blindly into the very jaws of death thinking that was my duty, but now I understand that it is my responsibility to lead you away from danger."
Somewhere along the way, Laethe had learned to lie so terribly, to seize his enemy by the strings of his heart and twist them until he was in full control. He wasn't worried for Hollith's safety. There was no force strong enough to hurt the Beast of Ethelfast. Hollith's body was invincible. But his mind and his heart, Laethe could tear those to shreds. And he would do it if that was what he had to in order to ensnare his brother. He got to his feet and started for the door, waiting for Hollith to spring into action.
Just as Laethe had hoped, his words sent Hollith reeling. He had only been able to take a few strides before Hollith stepped in front of him, blocking his path to the door.
Hollith took Laethe's face in his hands and searched there for some clue as to what was happening to them. How could it have come to this, that Laethe felt he was the one obligated to bear the responsibility? Hollith had left him alone so long that he had resigned all faith. "All your life I have watched over you, yet so easily you lose your trust in me?"
"It was not easy," Laethe said. He flattened his left palm against Hollith's chest while his right hand busied itself toying with a lock of hair that had found its way in front of Hollith's shoulder. "It took months of despair hammering relentlessly at the gates of my heart until they splintered, then countless arrows of doubt lodging in its last shield of defense, and finally, the hands of men overwhelming and disarming it. My heart isn't as flighty as you seem to think it is, so perhaps instead of accusing me of disloyalty, you should turn your critical eye inward."
With only the elegant fluttering of his lips and the tender touches of his fingers, Laethe rendered Hollith defenseless. Now was the time to leave him, when he was vulnerable and would suffer the most from desertion.
And suffer Hollith did. The thoughts that consumed him were poison. Laethe had painted a sickening picture for him with his description of how Hollith had fallen from his favor. All that Hollith could see were visions of his brother cornered by faceless, shadowy soldiers, unable to fight them any longer, a breadth away from doom…until the sea of enemies was split. Not by Hollith, but by others. Faces that were familiar. Algar and Crasto were among those who came to Laethe's rescue. He didn't allow himself to imagine how his brother had shown his gratitude to them. Whenever his mind got that far, Hollith forcibly redirected it to think of something else. He went to the training grounds and hurled some javelins, then to the stables to groom his favorite horse, and when the sun began to drop in the sky, he made his way to the kitchens for some dinner.
For all his travels about the castle and the surrounding vicinity, Hollith never ran into his brother. He wanted to speak with Laethe again, now that the cold words passed between them had had time to melt. There was much work to be done if he was going to rebuild the younger prince's confidence in him. Hollith was sure that once he restored Laethe's faith, all of this would blow over and he would have his brother's support once more. After his meal, he trekked up to Laethe's quarters and rapped loudly on the door.
There was no answer, even after Hollith knocked a second time, so the older of the two brothers pushed open the door. "Laethe, I'm coming in," he made sure to announce. But still, nothing. A quick search of the room revealed that Laethe was not there.
If he was not any of the places that Hollith had already been, only one other location would make sense. Though, Laethe had not visited it much since the death of the queen. A long time ago, before Laethe was old enough to begin learning warfare and horsemanship, he had spent most of his days in the courtyard garden with their mother. Even when he was older, mother and son would still often steal away there in the evenings. Hollith didn't know what they did while they were hidden amongst the walls of flowery vines and green shrubbery, but he had always assumed it had something to do with the birds that nested there. Doves.
They abandoned the branches when Hollith tramped down the path lined by trees, rustling leaves as they disappeared above the canopy where they would be safe from him. He appeared at the threshold of the clearing, walled in by bushes that grew taller than his head, and stopped as a plume of panicked birds took to the skies. Laethe was there, sitting in the grass surrounded by a circle of seeds, no doubt there to coax the birds close to him. But Hollith had scared them all off, leaving himself the sole target for his brother's stormy eyes.
"I heard someone coming, but I didn't expect it to be you," Laethe said. He both loved and hated this surprise. Knowing that Hollith had come looking for him inflated his heart, but he didn't want to surrender his anger already. He had no choice, though. His brother severed the chains weighing his mood down merely by showing his face.
"Who did you expect?" Hollith asked, moving to sit on a stone bench against the green wall. "Crasto?"
The mention of that name drew a smile to Laethe's lips. Not a smile of nostalgic fondness, but of mischief. "Well, he and I did leave some business unfinished earlier…"
Hollith had to know. "Do any of them care for you?"
"Any of who?" Laethe asked, even though he knew what his brother meant.
"Your lovers." Hollith could hardly say it.
A light laugh that could easily be confused with the giggle of the small brook that flowed nearby passed through Laethe's lips. "Oh, them. I don't really know. How would I be able to tell if they did?"
"You would know," Hollith assured him.
"I suppose, by the things that Crasto is willing to subject himself to for the sake of fucking me, that he might."
Hollith blinked at Laethe's use of such crude terminology, the only outward sign of the way he internally flinched. "If that's the only reason he does those things, then that is likely the only thing he cares for. What about you? Do you have feelings for any of them?"
"My feelings for them depend on their performance." Laethe was on his feet, heading toward Hollith. He sat down on the bench next to the other prince. "And lately, they have been quite lackluster. I'm craving something new. I would imagine you had no problem satisfying your passion while you were away, what with all the untried prospects I'm sure you were offered."
The easy way that Laethe spoke of bedroom matters was disconcerting for Hollith. It was fairly normal for two men to discuss such things, but this was a first for him and his younger brother. "There was not much time for that. Politicking is far more tiring than you would expect."
"Obviously you didn't find anything that you really wanted, then," Laethe said with a smirk. "What's your type, Hollith? Are you like Crasto, who loves a cruel tease? Or maybe you're more like Algar? I'm fairly certain all that matters to him is how I look. He insists that there is always light in the room, and he stares at me the whole time."
Hollith should have stopped Laethe and ended the conversation, because this was not what he had come to discuss, but he didn't. He found himself overcome with a strange curiosity which demanded to know just what went on between his brother and those other men. "You are easy on the eyes," he said with a nod.
"Imagine me the way that he sees me," Laethe dared Hollith. Or, even better, why have Hollith imagine it, when he could just demonstrate. He stood and then moved before Hollith, bending at the waist to place a hand on either of his brother's knees, leaning in until they were face to face. It looked like Hollith was about to speak in protest, so Laethe silenced him by pushing apart his legs a bit more to make room enough to kneel between them.
Hollith didn't like this. He couldn't stand for Laethe behaving this way. "No," his bark a bit angrier than he had expected. It chased away the smirk from Laethe's face, leaving the younger prince's lips straight. His eyes widened slightly when Hollith reached down and took the collar of his top in both of his hands and heaved him up along with as he got to his feet. "No one else will ever see you this way again, Laethe. I forbid it. I forbid you from ever kneeling before anyone beneath you. Do you understand me?"
"I understand," Laethe breathed, wondering just how carefully Hollith had chosen his words. The display of not only strength, but also authority awed Laethe, spurring his heart to race and his lungs to gasp for more air. "No one else."
It took Hollith a moment to convince his fingers to release the fabric of Laethe's shirt, but letting go seemed to calm the strange and sudden anger that had possessed him. He wasn't sure what exactly had come over him, all he knew was that he hated the idea of Algar seeing Laethe as he had just witnessed. The promise that his brother uttered guided one of Hollith's hands upward to find the back of Laethe's head, which he pushed forward until he was able to plant a kiss on the younger prince's forehead.
"It's dark," Hollith murmured into Laethe's hairline. "We should go inside."
For the first time in two years, Laethe felt the chaotic whirlwind whipping about his heart abate, as though Hollith's lips pressed to his brow sucked them away. He returned to the castle with his brother, walking in silence to revel in such a peaceful moment. Everything was as it should have been. Hollith was there next to Laethe, so close that from time to time their hands bumped clumsily. It happened as they mounted the stairs up to their bedrooms, and Laethe curled his fingers around his brother's, casting a smiling glance from the corner of his eye up at Hollith.
Nostalgia bloomed in Hollith's heart at his younger brother's gentle grasp, but something else sparked a delicate, glowing heat that began to warm him from the inside out. Something that Hollith was unable to definitely identify, although he suspected it might have been due in part to the grin on his brother's face. One that playfully encouraged Hollith to go ahead and stare all he wanted, drink in Laethe's fresh allure until he became inebriated. Tempting as that invitation was, Hollith was certain that getting lost at sea in his brother's eyes would not bode well for him. When they came to a halt between the doors of their bedrooms on opposite sides of the hallway, Hollith pulled his hand from Laethe's.
"You know that I didn't seek you out to talk about your bedroom affairs, Laethe," he reminded the younger prince, chasing any lingering gladness from the air between them. "Will you come into my chambers so that we may have an earnest discussion?"
"Of course." Laethe would have liked nothing better than to join Hollith in his bedroom. No matter what they ended up talking about, no matter how it ended, it was better than ending his time with his brother. He did as Hollith gestured and entered through the door held open for him, not hesitating to make himself comfortable by stretching out his limbs across his brother's mattress. "What do we need to discuss?"
"You. We need to talk about you, Laethe."
It came as quite a surprise when Hollith didn't bring up war. Laethe had been expecting an attempt by his brother to persuade him to get behind the notion of going to battle with Lofthale. "What about me?" he wondered, hiding his true intrigue under a guise of boredom.
"I feel as though there is something that you're keeping from me. Something that happened while I was away. Something that changed you," Hollith explained, with a bit of difficulty. He didn't know how to say exactly what he meant. He didn't know how to ask Laethe what had snuffed out the flames in his heart and left it so barren that the only thing it seemed capable of producing anymore were treacherous gales. Why was it that the familiar spark he had known in his little brother now seemed more dangerous than lively?
"You are my baby brother, Laethe," Hollith went on. "I am here to watch over you and to keep you. There is nothing that I cannot protect you from. I would never lead you astray. Yet somehow you have lost your faith in me. Felowin spoke to me of danger within our castle, but you do not have anything to fear now that I am here, Laethe. All you need to do is but point your finger and I will dispatch any who would dare threaten you. You are safe with me."
Hollith's words drove a chisel into every weak spot Laethe had kept hidden and then shattered him. This was what he had wanted. But he never could have imagined that it would play out like this. He never could have imagined that Hollith's proclamation would take the shape of a hammer to break him. Laethe wished that he could take Hollith up on his offer, send his brother to defeat his demons and then be safe under his protection. But Laethe would not lead his brother into a shadowy den without knowing exactly who or how many the enemy was.
"Brother," Laethe began, lifting off from the cozy nest he had made for himself in Hollith's bed and approaching him. "You're being quite dramatic. All you need is a bit of time to readjust yourself and you'll realize that all here is still well, and the only thing that has changed is you. Now, I'm going to retire to my room for the night."
Laethe may have smoothed things over with his gentle dismissal of his brother's worries, but Hollith couldn't help but feel as though something was underneath the glassy surface, clawing to get out. Laethe hugged him too tightly, lingered in his arms too long, kissed the line of his jaw too delicately for a goodnight bidding.
"Sleep well, Hollith," the younger prince said, pulling away from the warmth of his brother's embrace and gliding backward for the door.
"You as well," Hollith responded, watching the door even long after Laethe had disappeared behind it, as though he could see through it, see that Laethe stayed there outside his door for some time, leaning against it and hugging himself tightly.
Several minutes passed before Laethe had the strength to straighten up and head down the hallway instead of across to his bedroom. There was much work to be done in the next two days if he was to emerge victorious over his brother's wishes at the next war council. It was a bit difficult to find a servant at this hour of the night, but eventually Laethe located a page and sent him off to find the one person that the prince knew would be able to help him. He wasn't thrilled about the idea of working with Felowin, but it was necessary if he was to keep Hollith from going to war.
Felowin was reading by candlelight when an apologetic page came knocking at his door with a message that the prince was requesting his presence in the war hall immediately. He dressed himself and then rushed as best an old man with a limp could to castle's lower level, only to be surprised by young Laethe lounging in his older brother's chair there. The possibility that he had been summoned by the younger prince and not Hollith had never even crossed Felowin's mind. This was quite suspicious, considering that he and Laethe didn't have the steadiest of relationships since Hollith had gone away. It was safe to assume that Laethe had called him here because he wanted something; the questions was what? Felowin only approached as far as the opposite end of the long table, where he sat.
"Good evening, Prince."
"Have you left the door wide open on purpose, Felowin?" Laethe asked.
Felowin nodded. "I have, Your Majesty."
"And why is that? Do you want people to know that you were here with me after my father and brother were in bed?"
"At least one person already knows," Felowin replied, referring to the messenger who had brought him here. "And should he happen to wonder what is transpiring, it would be better that he be able to look in and see for himself, rather than be left to conjure things from imagination." He didn't need anyone thinking that he was the latest to fall prey to the wily seductions of Prince Laethe.
"Next time I'll spare any potential damage to your reputation and call upon you myself, then," Laethe said as he got to his feet and crossed the room to pull the neglected door closed. That was a bit of a threat, as they both knew it would be even worse if the prince was seen entering or leaving Felowin's abode in the middle of the night.
It was in Felowin's best interest to finish whatever business the prince had with him as soon as possible. "What is this about, Laethe?" he asked, dropping the formalities.
"Politicking," Laethe replied, using his brother's word. It sounded better than scheming or conspiring. He sat down around the corner of the table from the older man. "I'm here to discuss strategies, Felowin. After all, you and I are on the same side. We're both trying to prevent a move against Lofthale. We must work together if we're to persuade others to join us."
Felowin was almost entirely sure that whatever reasons Laethe had for not wanting war were selfish. The things that Hollith had told Felowin about his brother at the banquet last night were true: Laethe was consumed by a lust for the glory that battle brought with it. He had relished every moment of fighting the attempted invasion while Hollith was away. He took immense satisfaction from winning sparring matches at the training grounds. And now all of the sudden the young prince was opposed to fighting? There was something suspect about all of this.
But, then again, what did it matter what Laethe's motives were? Felowin had already begun to make plans to maintain the peace, and if the prince was offering himself up as a pawn to carry out those plans, it would be foolish not to use him.
Laethe seemed to have read his mind. "Surely you've some ideas already, Felowin. My charm could only make them better."
The boy was partially right. On his way to being clever, but not quite all the way there yet. "You may have many admirers, Laethe, but your brother has the respect of the men of the council. Your charm, as you call it, only beguiles some, while the others who are immune to it see you as a foolish child."
Laethe's lips tightened in a slight pucker of annoyance at Felowin calling him a foolish child. But he didn't lash out at Felowin the way he would have at anyone else to accuse him of such. He needed this advice. "What should I do to change this perception and become respected?"
"You must be more like your brother if you wish to win them over. He is a man's man. He excels at all the things that our society uses to gauge a man's prowess," Felowin explained.
Laethe nodded. He could do that. The past two years had sculpted him into a capable fighter. All he needed was a way to showcase himself in a masculine light. "Do you have a plan, then?"
"I do," Felowin said with a nod of his own. He had in fact only just cooked up this idea, inspired by weighing the strengths of the prince before him. "You have excellent aim with a bow; we will put that skill to use. Before the sun rises tomorrow, I will go out into the forest and place bait to draw out the wolves. You will suggest a hunt to the men and lead them to the baited locations where there will surely be animals prowling about, exhibiting your excellent animal tracking abilities. Once you find a wolf, killing it should be fairly easy work for you; the challenge will be doing it before your brother has the chance to beat you to the glory."
That sounded straightforward enough. After ironing out a few more of the plan's details, Laethe and Felowin parted ways, the prince going up to his bed and the advisor setting out to prepare for their hoax. By the time Laethe woke up the next morning at dawn, Felowin was on his way back from placing the bait of fresh meat in the forest at the foot of the mountains to the west of the castle. It would be about an hour's ride back home, which gave Laethe plenty of time to announce his intention to lead the men on a hunting expedition.
A/N: Thoughts? Questions, comments, concerns? What do we think of Laethe? And Hollith? And Laethe's erratic and harmful behavior? Perhaps a potential power struggle tickles your fancy? Maybe a bit of bloody battle… Whatever it is that you find interesting, please share. I am lonely. The more feedback I get, the more excited I become, and the faster I work. Love you guys!