Enabling

Author’s note: Holla’ to my two anons! This one is for you.

Hope had risen through the ranks once more. Many of the men believed that this next battle would determine the outcome of the war. With all three branches gathered in one spot, it was believed that they simply could not lose the war.

“The outcome is still undetermined. Keep in mind that the reason we’re battling here is because we lost this ground long ago. That does not speak well on our behalf.”

Albel cast a sidelong glance of annoyance at Woltar. Like he needed to be reminded of the fact that they were recovering previously lost land. He didn’t need to hear ridiculous drivel such as that. Judging by Vox’s expression, the man shared the same feelings.

The captains had been given one large tent to share. Rather than house each captain in a separate smaller tent surrounded by their specific branch, it was decided that the men and captains should mingle. It was wise; a great deal of plotting and planning would need to be done and those plots and plans should be made together. The arrangements saved the captains multiple trips back and forth.

The tent was in a large square shape. Two cots were placed to the right and left of the door, while another sat directly across from the opening. Being the lowest on the totem pole of age and experience, Albel was assigned to sleep on the bunk across from the entrance. The table in the center of the tent proved to be semi-useful in blocking drafts that blew through the thin canvas entrance, but if there was a harsh gust of wind its cold would waft right over the table and through Albel’s thin blanket. He would shiver, feeling the coldness in his bones.

After only several hours he tired of freezing to his core and the boy decided to make use of one of the other beds. There was no way he would be able to slumber peacefully if he shivered helplessly all through the night. Carefully, Albel crept from his bed and slid under the covers of one of the beds. He minded not to bump against the occupant, knowing better than to rouse his husband during the night. Albel huddled at the edge of the cot, wrapping his blanket tighter around himself then tugging on the man’s blanket and pulling that over himself. The added insulation helped to chase the chill from his flesh and the warmth from the body next to him seeped over and warmed him quickly.

Banging outside of the tent roused Albel early the next morning. For a moment he lay still, enjoying the warmth of the bed. But he should move before the man woke up and realized he had been sharing his bed. It was in that dim early morning light that Albel took stock of the tent and realized that he had not paid very close attention as to whom had slept where. In the dark one form looks like another and all Albel could do was thank whatever deities floated about in the sky that he had not tried to huddle closer for warmth.

~~~~~~~ It felt odd to Woltar to be in such close living proximity to the Duke and his charge. The two did not seem to mind, when the captains were in private, openly displaying their affection for one another. Just over a day of being quartered together and he had already seen Vox squeeze the boy’s ass several times, had watched them exchange sloppy, wet kisses, and he was certain he had seen Albel throw a teasing glance at the duke as the boy undressed for sleeping. At least the couple had refrained from having sexual intercourse while he was about.

Luckily for his old heart the two did little more than kiss and touch one another in private for the remainder of the battle. Even so, it shocked him the first time he saw Albel lean down and kiss the duke firmly on the mouth. Even more startling than that though was waking to find Albel curled in the duke’s bed, in the man’s arms. He had held Albel as a baby, Albel had run about in his yard as a toddler, he had cared for the boy after Glou’s untimely passing—to see him so grown was startling.

~~~~ The battle was progressing slowly. Seven days in and all their troops had managed to do was push the Aquarian soldiers back to the border they had lost ages ago. But it was progress. While the Dragon Brigade was in flight, swooping down on unsuspecting Aquarians, Albel manned the front lines, leading his men to death or glory. Each branch played a vital part. Aquaria boasted new war technology and it was the Dragon Brigade’s duty to take out that technology before to took out the front line. With the weight and size of the dragons, it was easy to maul a piece of equipment and render it useless for the Aquarians.

The Black Brigade fought valiantly at the front, restraining the opposing forces from pushing forward. It was most likely the bloodiest part of the field, but Albel desired to be no place else. The Cavalry of the Storm Brigade was used mostly for backup. When Albel’s troops became overwhelmed or fatigued the cavalry would ride in so that the men could retire and a new squadron could take their place.

When dusk fell the fighting would cease. Though there was truly no reason to fear a night attack, patrols were set up to be on the cautious side. Everyone welcomed the momentary pause that night brought, even if they were eager to reclaim their land.

At the end of the first week Woltar returned to the capital to deliver the progress report to the king in person and to personally request more weapon shipments. The battered, chipped, weak steel that the men acquired at the training facilities were not adequate to go to war with. Perhaps with better weapons to defend themselves, the men would be able to fight better as well. Albel had laughed at that idea—once a worthless, talent-less fighter, always a worthless, talent-less, fighter—but Woltar had hushed him.

~~~~~ With Woltar returned to the capital, the other two captains were left to their own devices. Vox made use of this sudden privacy the very night that the man had departed. After he had addressed a soldier outside of their tent he watched from the entrance as Albel leaned over the table, studiously taking in the ground they had gained and trying to find a way to use the land to their advantage.

He walked into the tent, securing the flap behind himself then going to put his armor away. When he had freed himself from the heavy burden he sat on his cot and continued to stare at his young spouse. He could see Albel’s face, bent over the map, carefully plotting a new move for the army to take. The way the boy parted his lips ever so slightly, the fierce determination in crimson eyes, and the way he shifted his weight from foot to foot, causing a small bit of thigh to peek out from under his sarong—it was enrapturing. He had to make us of his young spouse.

“Come to me, my brat, I wish to have a conversation.”

Albel looked up and glared at the man. “About what?”

“Oh, nothing in particular. I wish to speak of idle things and I know you are well versed in idle chatter."

The boy scowled, but tossed his quill down and went to stand by the man’s cot. Vox had lain back into the pillow, relaxing his body. It had been a long day and his arm ached from holding that god awful heavy lance. When Albel approached he reached out and took the boy by the human wrist and tugged him down.

Albel made a soft yelp as he fell forward, across the duke’s lap. The man laughed at him and slapped his behind.

“My, what a position to find yourself in!”

With a nasty growl, he managed to shift his weight off of the man’s stomach and legs and curl up at the man’s side. The duke kept a hold on one of his legs though and that was swung over the man’s thick thigh. Vox wrapped his arm around the boy’s shoulders and ran his other hand up and down the leg.

“What did you want to talk about?” Albel snapped peevishly.

“Nothing particular, I’d much rather DO something with you” the man answered, looking at his spouse with a soft, mocking expression.

“It’s still early yet. I wouldn’t dare to start anything, lest one of those maggots comes running in with a report.”

Vox sighed in exaggerated disappointment. “You are right, we must wait another few hours. Is there something you’d like to discuss? ”

“Since you mention it—and since you apparently have no plans on releasing me—why don’t you tell me about your past in battle. Tell me exactly why you hate Aquaria.”

There was a pause for a moment. The duke examined Albel carefully then sighed again, this time in serious exasperation. “Why do you want to hear that story?”

“Because it seems important.” Albel answered honestly. “It has made up a large part of who you are now.”

The duke ran his knuckles down the boy’s soft cheek. “You care about discovering the truth about me, hmmm?”

“Not really.” Albel said, opening his mouth to bite spitefully at the fingers close to his mouth.

Vox laughed and withdrew his hand. “I see then. Very well. Get yourself comfortable, for this is a long tale. It was a very long time ago, back when I was just beginning in the military. When I began to take on missions with small units of soldiers I was slightly younger than you were when you joined the military. Even then, in my own youth the war was raging—I wonder sometimes if this war will end in my lifetime.”

“Does it matter?” Albel cut in. “Get to the point.”

“You are impatient, child. At the time it was your grandfather leading the Dragon Brigade. Your father was older than I was by some years, but he was still in the lower ranks at the time. That was how he and I became acquainted; we often worked together on small missions.”

“That was how you befriended one another.”

Vox looked away, pressing his lips together as he thought. “I would not say that your father and I were friends at that point. We were friendly enough to one another, but we did not seek out each other’s company when we were not on missions.”

“Then how—”

“When your father was made captain and I was promoted to second in command, necessity drove us to be close to one another. When you are forced to be in close proximity with someone over time you eventually develop a friendship with them—either that or you grow to despise them and your father was much too kind to be hated. Even if I wanted to hate him.”

The boy let out a soft snort at that. He knew how kind his father was; the man had driven him up the wall with his fatherly nagging. He had been embarrassed when he would go out with his father and Glou would stop to talk and laugh with soldiers and courtiers…Glou had made the worst jokes.

The duke took note of the thoughtful expression on his spouse’s face and decided to carry on. He did not want the boy to dwell too much on the late Glou Nox; that would only serve to sour the mood. He leaned in and kissed the boy’s forehead, jostling Albel from whatever thoughts were running through his twisted head.

“As I was saying,” Vox carried on, “Your father and I were sent on a rescue mission into Seaheart. Some of the men had been captured while on a spy mission; lot of idiots they were in my opinion, but they were still our men and I’ll not leave my fellow Glyphians in the hands of those scum.”

He paused to make sure his young spouse had nodded in agreement.

There the duke began a new string of conversation. “You know that being able to bond with dragons is a gift, do you not?”

Albel nodded sullenly, adverting his eyes for a moment. “My father explained it to me.”

“Then you know how fond of our dragons we soldiers become. They become a part of us, almost like our children. Never mind the honor it is for us to be able to bond, the strength of that bond is…no words can describe it.”

Hearing that, Albel recalled old feelings of jealousies towards his father’s dragon. He often wondered what his father would have done if he had made Glou chose between the two of them. His heart told him that his father would always choose him, but insecurity always made him wonder.

“Can you imagine losing a child?”

The question brought Albel’s attention back into focus. He looked at the duke once more. “Losing a child?” His voice was filled with wonder. What had that to do with anything? He was beginning to get confused. “I suppose I can’t say I can imagine it, even with Aunya born.”

Vox looked down at the boy with a sour expression, though his anger was not directed at Albel. “The Aquarians are more cruel than they would like others to think. To kill a child--to kill a man’s child!” The man hissed and broke off.

Albel had no notion as to what exactly his husband was saying, but the beginning of an understanding was piecing itself together in his mind. Even with the hints the man had been dropping, he could not be certain.

“Go on.”

The man’s head snapped back, a cold glare settling on the young captain. Albel stared back at him, un-phased by the look. The lack of concern the boy showed over his anger swayed Vox back to a calm state. He frowned as he carried on.

“Our dragons are like our children. When we found our men they were in a minimum security prison. It seemed curious to your father and I that soldiers of our caliber would be kept in such low security, but we soon discovered why. When we found them our men were half mad, deliriously pacing around in their cells, mumbling and screaming incoherently. They were useless to us and no threat to anyone.”

“What could have caused such unraveling of their minds?” Albel wondered aloud. He could not fathom how men of such high standards, with such firm minds, could go mad… unless torture was involved. He asked if there was.

“There was not.” Vox said, “Not physically at least.”

“What does that mean?” He curled his claw in the man’s shirt, eager to be answered.

The duke took a moment to examine his spouse. He ran a finger along Albel’s cheek, as he had done earlier, then down to his chin and across the boy’s lips.

“You are beautiful; I am glad you are mine.” he tried to kiss the boy.

Albel lifted his human palm and covered the man’s mouth as it ascended upon his own. “Finish your story.”

Vox laughed softly against the youth’s palm, kissing that instead and then pulling away. “What we were eventually able to discover was that our men’s dragons had been slaughtered in front of them. Those dragons were like children to the men, seeing them killed was like watching their human offspring being murdered. It was psychological torture, what those Aquarian bastards did. They claim to be noble in their tactics, never using underhand tricks, but they lie. Their methods are the worst.”

“Perhaps they did not know.” The boy offered.

Vox turned on the boy; the man’s eyes burned with a cold fire and for the first time Albel felt a small thrill of worry--he would not call it fear--over the anger in his husband’s eyes. Perhaps he had finally truly insulted the man. He was certain of it when the duke suddenly grasped him by the forearms and snarled at him,

“Do you defend them?!”

“Of course not! I only meant that--Never mind, let me go, bastard!”

Vox shook him, digging his nails into the boy’s flesh. “You only meant what? To make light of the madness that took hold of our men’s minds? You meant to lessen the shock that we felt when we found our men in such a state? What did you mean?”

“I don’t know what I meant!” Albel screamed, baring his teeth. He took hold of the man’s arms in a similar gesture, attempting to push the duke away. “YOU’RE the mad one if you think I have sympathy for those maggots. How dare you accuse me of such a thing!”

There was a dangerous silence. Albel’s arms quivered with the effort it took to keep the duke from crushing their bodies together. Eventually a subtle change took place in the man’s eyes. Just as quickly as he had been grabbed, Albel was released. Before he could move away though Vox snaked an arm around the boy’s waist and pulled him close, despite Albel’s wriggling protests.

“I am sorry, you meant nothing I’m sure. It is…a difficult memory. It was like watching a dear friend lose their child.”

“That doesn’t give you a right to take your anger out on me.” Albel hissed, valiantly trying to free himself.

The man refused to release him though. He turned to look at the boy and cupped his spouse’s cheek. “You are right, now settle.”

With little choice, for he could not fight against the duke’s strength when he was in such a compromised position, Albel grudgingly relaxed against his husband. He refused to look at the man, but Vox did not seem to mind.

“Now it is your turn to tell me a story. I think to be fair you should tell me about something from your military experience that touched you so deeply and shook you to your core.”

“My father died.” Albel spat out.

Vox squeezed him. “I know that story well and I was there when it happened. Tell me a story, Albel. Tell me about something that changed you.”

The boy was silent. There was…ONE story he could tell the duke. He had not shared the experience with anyone else except for his father, but perhaps he could trust Vox. The man was his husband after all.

“There is something I experienced that…touched me.”

The duke looked at him with interest. “Oh? Tell me.”

Albel frowned, looking down while he curled his claw in his husband’s shirt. It was not a happy memory and he had tried for years to keep it from his mind. Perhaps airing the wound out would help it to heal.

“When I first began my military career as a foot soldier I wanted to follow the Dragon Brigade to be closer to my father. That obviously was not allowed, seeing as I had not taken the ceremony.” He paused there as a painful welling of emotion occurred at the thought of his failed ascension attempt. The boy sighed and carried on. “I began my military carrier as a foot soldier in the Black Brigade. Even if I hated the marching, I would sooner march till my feet bled then be a subordinate of Woltar’s.”

Vox laughed, cupping the back of Albel’s head and kissing his forehead. “I see that feeling has not changed.”

Albel pulled away; why the duke was being so affectionate puzzled him. Rarely did they ever kiss one another, much less hold one another. Hell, even speaking was a rarity between the two. The only reason he had been generous in his display of affection that past week was to shock the old man’s heart. Apparently his husband took the kisses seriously.

“As I was saying—you can let me go now.”

“I’d prefer to keep you; as you were saying?”

The young captain growled. “My father was…a great man. He was the best leader your nephew could have asked for. Never once did he let his personal life interfere with war business…except for once.”

The duke raised an eyebrow, his interest piqued. “What instance was that?”

Albel hesitated to continue. Would he be smearing his father’s good name if he told? One story could not undo years of great service, the boy reasoned. “When I was 14 I was placed in a small unit with fellow foot soldiers. There were five of us. The brigade had been marching through an area in dispute and my unit was sent on a mission to further infiltrate that land. We got caught.”

When the youth fell silent for several minutes Vox knew that his spouse was troubled. The stories that they were swapping were hardly light hearted. It struck him, however, how quite Albel had become. The boy’s eyes held a glossy, far off look that he had not seen often. He had not known the boy to be easily shaken, so the conclusion of the story intrigued him greatly. For the moment the man simply let Albel think, running a comforting hand up and down his spouse’s arm.

“The Aquarians are not as gentle as they say they are, I agree with what you said before.” Albel suddenly said. Vox nodded. “They tortured us for information; they asked many stupid questions that we would have had no notion about. Those bumbling idiots must have been the worst the Aquarian military had to offer, we would have won the war by now if all of Seaheart’s ranking soldiers were that stupid.”

Vox leaned over and nuzzled the boy’s soft hair, determined to keep the boy’s mind clear of angry rants about Aquarians. They both had to deal with the scum during the day, their nights at least should be free of the bastards. “What did they do to you?”

“That’s not the important part.” Albel said, looking at the man with a scowl. He liked the feel of the man’s stubby beard scratching his flesh; he didn’t want to associate his negative feelings with that sensation. “It’s what they did after they tortured us that matters.”

“And what did they do then?”

“…They had done a number on all of us. I don’t recall exactly how the other boys in the unit faired. I remember that I had a number of deep cuts all over from the torture. They chained us in some dank, dirty dungeon, so it didn’t take long for infection to begin to set in. But after that, after that!”

“What did they do?” The man asked again.

“They left us! They left us, chained and wounded! They left us for dead! For five days we waited to be rescued! We were dying from our wounds; flies had laid their eggs in our open cuts and maggots had begun to crawl about in our flesh. Have you ever felt a maggot crawling under you skin?” He looked sharply at the duke.

Vox frowned and shook his head. “I have not had the pleasure of that experience.”

Albel scoffed loudly. “Pray you never do. Despite the delirium we were all in I can remember clearly the boy with the worst wounds. His one leg had been cut open, the muscle filleted wide. After five days his leg was covered in maggots. I don’t mean that lightly, I mean I could not see his flesh under the thousands of maggots that were crawling in and out of his leg.”

Bile had risen into the boy’s throat and he had to pause. The image of the boy’s leg haunted him even years later. While they were down there, chained to the walls, he had stared at the boy, aghast, frightened that he would be sharing a similar fate. Once the maggots began to eat flesh they would not stop; they would all be eaten alive. Albel pushed his body closer to his husband’s.

“I can’t remember much aside from that. We were rescued five days after we had been abandoned. My father had come; my wounds were so severe that he had to carry me out of the dungeon. We must have flown back to Airyglyph—I can’t recall that ride though. That memory ends with me waking in the healing quarters in the castle. My father wasn’t there, but when he returned he told me what had happened. They had had to reopen my wounds to flush the maggots out and to rid my flesh of the infection. When he had explained that I was so hopped up on sedatives I hardly cared.”

He remembered that his father had also informed him that the one boy had had to have his leg cutoff, the maggot infestation had been so bad.

Vox took the story in. Albel curled close to him, gripping his shirt anxiously, though h noted that the boy’s eyes had grown distant again. “Glou had gone to rescue you.” He concluded.

“Yes.” Albel nodded.

“That does not speak against him. What type of father would he have been if he had overlooked the disappearance of his son?”

“It was not his duty to find me.”

“Of course it was, you’re his child. Fatherly duty trumps military demands.”

Albel raised his head and fixed the man with an odd stare. “That’s rather a peculiar statement coming from you. Were you not the one who had told me that the war should always be my main priority, not simpering wives and children?”

“I did say such a thing,” Vox laughed, “but I also know not all share my views. Your father would not have stayed captain if Arzei had taken issue with his action. Why are you tying to dispute your father’s good character?”

“I’m not, I—”

“You are, now be silent. As for the wounds you received, you seem little worse for the wear.” He patted the boy’s legs to demonstrate.

Albel scoffed and turned his head away. He rolled off of the man, lying his head on what bit of the pillow the duke was willing to share. They lied there, side by side and silent for a long while. An evening bell rang eventually, signaling that all men should be in their tents. Upon hearing the bell Vox grinned and slid his hand up Albel’s thigh.

Albel raised an eyebrow. “What are you doing?”

The man began to tug the violet stockings down the boy’s legs. “Nothing in particular. Why don’t you be good and undress yourself?”

The boy rolled his eyes and shifted into an upright position. “There are more important things to do.”

“I beg to differ; take your clothes off.”

A small struggle ensued as Albel attempted to move away. Vox grabbed him around the middle and forced the boy flat on the cot, straddling the lithe body. The young captain snarled, flexing his arm muscles in an attempt to break the grasp on him. The duke pinned his biceps to the bed and a dark smirk began to curve the man lips.

“Let me go.” Albel hissed.

“I think not. Why are you putting up such a fight? You come to my bed each night.”

“For warmth and nothing more.”

“Well, now that your ancient chaperone is out of the picture, I think I’d like to take advantage of our privacy.”

Albel snorted. “While the cat’s away the mice will play, hmm?”

“Precisely.”

Vox followed his answer up by leaning down and pressing his lips tightly against Albel’s. The boy’s body stiffened for a moment, but his lips eventually parted to welcome the prodding tongue into his warm mouth.

When he was certain that the body beneath him had surrendered, the duke relaxed his grip on the youth’s arms and began to tug off the boy’s clothing. Albel submitted much quicker than anticipated, perhaps unwilling to struggle in vain for any longer. That fact pleased the man.

He left Albel’s shirt, unwilling to wrestle it over the boy’s head. The sarong he untied and let slip away, leaving his spouse exposed to him. Vox leaned back for a moment, taking in the sight. Albel had his eyes closed, his face turned into the pillow as he allowed whatever the duke had in mind; the boy looked rather bored.

That was Albel’s problem; Vox quickly undid his buckle and unzipped his pants. He took himself in hand and stroked his half-hard cock, licking his lips in anticipation as his eyes raked over his spouse’s partially nude body. He ached to be buried inside of the boy.

Albel didn’t even bother to open his eyes as his hips were lifted off of the bed and he was prompted to wrap his legs around the man’s waist. Vox prodded at his entrance, unconcerned over the fact that he was unprepared and dry. The man was wet enough though; the tip of the duke’s cock slipped in effortlessly. It took a bit of force to get the rest of the shaft in, but with two strong thrusts Vox was successfully buried inside of Albel’s body.

“Very nice.” The man growled, leaning his head back and basking in the feel of tight warmth squeezing his cock.

Albel grunted beneath him.

Since the boy was showing no interest, Vox had no qualms with taking what he needed of the boy and pulled out partially and thrust back in. He built up a slow, steady rhythm, gripping the boy’s hips with bruising force. With each thrust he deliberately brushed against the youth’s prostate; he would force Albel to feel pleasure if he had to. If the soft grunts and groans Albel began to let out were any indication, his spouse was indeed beginning to feel pleasure.

There was no hurry. For days they had both been tense and in need of a moment’s peace; Vox took his peace in the use of his spouse’s body. It was his right after all. There was no telling when he might be able to use Albel again, so the man took his time.

The tortuously slow pace that Vox had set was driving Albel mad. He was writhing, arching off the bed and forcing himself down onto the man’s cock, eager for a harder, faster pace. When his husband refused to meet his demands Albel would flop back onto the cot dispassionately and growl into the pillow. The display was rather endearing to the duke.

“So impatient” he chided with a grin, delivering a hard thrust to the boy’s sweet spot.

Albel gasped, arching again. “Just finish!” he cried out in exasperation.

The man laughed, increasing his pace. Albel growled in frustration; he had unwillingly been aroused and all he wanted was an end. His cock bounced on his belly with each thrust Vox delivered, hard and aching; just a touch and the boy would be done, brought over the edge to sweet ecstasy. The man apparently realized such a thing and therefore refused to take Albel in hand and pump the boy off.

When the man finally began to pound into him with abandon the young captain was practically reduced to tears of anger and frustration. Vox leaned down and braced his arms on opposite sides of Albel’s head, thrusting with abandon into the needy body beneath him. He growled into the boy’s ear as he bucked wildly.

Albel lifted his arms at last, overcoming his stubborn desire to remain limp, and wrapped his arms about the man’s shoulders to pull him in deeper. He began to shift his hips forward, meeting Vox’s thrusts eagerly.

When they came at last, one after the other, it was bliss. Albel opened his mouth to scream, but at the last moment he was able to snap his jaw shut; it would not do to have the men hear him scream like that. There was no telling what idiot would come running to investigate. Vox latched his teeth to the juncture of Albel’s neck and shoulder to silence himself as he spilled his seed deep into the boy’s body.

They were still for several minutes afterward with Vox buried in the youth’s body, his weight crushed against Albel’s belly. When the duke’s weight became stifling, Albel nudged the man and Vox rolled off, next to him.

After pulling the boy close to him, Vox wrapped them both in the thin blanket on the cot. Albel was quiet beside him; when he thought that the boy had fallen asleep the man got up and went naked to blow out the candles. When he returned to bed Albel rolled into the warmth of his body and he wrapped his arm around the young captain’s slim waist.

He drowsed, coming in and out of awareness. Sometime during the night he felt Albel stir at his side and opened his eyes.

“Are you well, love?” he asked, voice thick with sleep.

Albel hesitated at the pet name. “I’m fine.”

He pulled Albel closer to him. “There is one thing I wanted to ask you about your story.”

“Yes?”

“If you despise maggots so much, if they are a part of a horrid memory you have, then why do you call our men maggots?”

Albel was tempted to point out that he called many others beside their men maggots, but that was not important. He grinned in the darkness. “I call them that because, like maggots, I feel like they eat the very life out of me.”

There was a soft snort of amusement. “Very cute” he yawned, “very cute indeed. And very you.”

~END

I liked the ending especially. This was a dialogue heavy chapter and I think it’s obvious that the two don’t speak that much; they’re awkward when speaking to one another. Or it felt that way to me. Okay, bad news: Next week there will not be a chapter because I have one hell of a long term paper due and I need to focus on that. But I have my plans made out for the next chapter. Now my two anons, review!