Now being in such grace and favor by reason I learned him some points of geometry and understanding of the art of mathematics with other things, I pleased him so that what I said he would not contrary. — William Adams
The next morning was not entirely pleasant, for Thorin's foul mood had not dissipated, and breakfast was quiet and grim. Kili had prepared eggs and sausage and toast. If they were no better than Alfen's, they were at least no worse, and certainly they were better than Fili's attempts would have been (he thought he could manage toast, probably, but eggs were far beyond him). Kili's movements around the kitchen were slow and stiff and careful, and watching him gave Fili a funny feeling in the pit of his stomach, like when he looked at a still-healing scrape, and so Fili ate very little before escaping to prepare for his lessons.
Afterwards, while Kili was eating his own breakfast — of which there was plenty, for Thorin too had eaten very little — Thorin pulled Fili outside and gave him a blistering lecture, which left him feeling guilty and irritable both. He spent the rest of the morning re-reading the history he had supposedly studied the night before (of which he had retained nothing), but his concentration was so poor that when Balin arrived and began to quiz him, he found he could not even name the Dwarven generals in the Battle of Beleriand. He did not think this was any great loss, as these generals had all been dead for centuries and could hardly care that their names had been forgotten, but Balin seemed unduly annoyed, and a Balin annoyed was a Balin prone to lengthy, boring discourses on whatever topic struck his fancy.
After the third of these, Balin gave Fili a great deal of work to do to catch up to where he ought to have been and left, scowling all the while. Fili stared at his scrolls for a few minutes, but it was so much that he could not even figure out where to start, and so he gave up and wandered to the kitchen to find a snack.
To his surprise, Kili was in the kitchen, sweeping furiously.
"Ought you not to be out with Fëor?" Fili asked, cutting off a large slice of bread from yesterday's loaf, and dousing it liberally with honey. "I saw you off with him but an hour ago."
Kili frowned. "He did not think I was well enough to train today. He could tell as soon as I lifted the bow that my back was causing me discomfort. He brought me back right away." A particularly vigorous swipe of the broom sent dust flying into the air. "He is speaking with Thorin now. He wants to take me away."
Fili went still, a half-chewed bite of bread in his mouth, and stared at Kili, who was sweeping the floor with short, violent strokes. "Take you away where?" he asked, when he had finally swallowed.
"I do not know. He did not tell me. Just … I overheard him telling Thorin."
Take Kili away. "But this is your home," Fili said plaintively. "And he is not even a dwarf."
"I suppose he does not think it matters." Kili's hands were gripping the broom handle so tightly, his knuckles had gone white. "Perhaps the rangers are not all men. Perhaps they have dwarves among them. Though if they do I cannot imagine they will be happy to have a khazd khuv among them."
"You cannot … you cannot join the rangers. That is absurd. Perhaps he only means to take you away to train for a little while."
Kili shrugged, but he looked anxious. "I do not know." He looked toward the hallway, as if expecting Fëor to appear at any moment and whisk him away.
Fili looked too, but neither Thorin nor Fëor appeared. "There is no point wondering," he said. "I shall go find out."
"You cannot! They are in Thorin's room with the door closed."
"Then I shall go into the hall very quietly and listen."
A skeptical look flashed quickly across Kili's face, gone almost before it had appeared. Then he said, in a tone that was so accusing as to be very nearly insolent, "You do not know how to be quiet and listen."
"As if you are the only one in this house who can be sneaky," Fili said, offended. "I will have you know that last week I stole a half dozen pastries from the kitchen right out from under Alfen's nose, with him none the wiser."
"Alfen," Kili said, "was so often in his cups that I do not think he would have noticed had you strolled right past him to steal the pastries, and waved at him on the way out."
"You exaggerate," Fili said coldly, "and I am going to go the hall, and you shall not stop me."
Well of course, when put like that, Kili could do nothing but scowl in disapproval and return to his sweeping, which he did with even more vigor than before, his back to Fili.
Fili ignored him and snuck very quietly to the hall and then down toward Thorin's door, carefully avoiding all the creaking floorboards. He would admit, if pressed, that Kili was by far the sneakier one, but Fili could be quiet enough when properly motivated, and he was very motivated now. The thought that Fëor could just come in and … and take Kili away! It was true, Kili was not free as other dwarves, but he still belonged in Ered Luin, or among dwarves at least. It would not be right to take him away and set him among people who were not even of his own kind.
"It is out of the question, Fëor, and no matter how many times you ask, my answer shall be the same." Thorin sounded irritable, though this was hardly unusual.
"You dwarves are stubborner than is good for you. Why would you keep him here in such a state?"
"He will be fine tomorrow."
"I was not talking about his back. I have seen much worse. You are not the first parent to lash a child."
A very cold silence greeted this remark, then Fëor said, "My apologies. I know I should not speak of him thus."
"No. You should not."
"But you are his guardian, his shem-whatever you call it."
"Shemor."
"Yes. You have some responsibility for him, and you cared enough for him to bring me here to train him. A ranger here among the dwarves. It is call for gossip, at the very least."
"There were no dwarves to do it properly."
Fëor huffed a laugh. "You forget to whom you speak. I have seen you with a bow, Thorin, and you are more than capable of instructing the boy, at least so he should be competent."
"If the bow is to be his only weapon, he will need to be far more than competent."
"You are the only one here who thinks so. You are the only one who thinks past his sentence, to the life he must lead afterwards. Everyone else here fears his very presence."
"Not everyone," Thorin said. He sounded grumpy.
"Most," Fëor replied. "Come, how long did it take you to find a cook willing to work in your house? And now you must find another. "
Thorin gave an irritable grunt as an answer. "You fret about things that are not your concern."
"I am not fretting. I am merely offering you a solution. I mean no disrespect, but I have seen your sort before. Dwarves are not so different to men or elves, no matter that we all pretend so. The boy is a burden to you; you cannot pretend he is not."
"So he may be," Thorin said, "but it is a burden I bear willingly, if not gladly. And I fail to understand why you take such an interest in my troubles. What is he to you?"
"Nothing," Fëor said, "but an opportunity, perhaps."
"He is no slave for sale," Thorin said, his voice gone low and threatening.
"I did not suggest he was," Fëor said, in a calm and soothing manner. "You misinterpret my interest. He will make a fine archer some day, and a loyal follower to anyone who shows him a little kindness. Come, you know it is true. He is of no value to you, but he could be of some worth to me. There are precious few dwarves out in the world."
"Well, you shall have to find your pet dwarf elsewhere. It is not up for debate. Kili shall stay here. If you wish to instill warm feelings in him, you are free to try. I will not begrudge him your attentions. But if you seek to gain his loyalty to further some ends of your own, you will have to do it in the next few weeks, for that is all the rest of the time I have hired you, and I can pay you no longer than that."
Fëor laughed. "Your reputation does not exaggerate your obstinacy, Oakenshield. Very well, I shall not bother you again with this. But come, my afternoon is now unexpectedly free. Tell me, if you would, how came you to know Alathen? I know little of him but would not expect him to associate overmuch with dwarves."
"That," Thorin said, "is a long story, and not one that should be told without ale. We can take luncheon at the pub. I must spend some time at the forge this afternoon anyway."
At that, Fili crept quickly away down the hall, and just in time too, for the door to Thorin's room opened but a moment later.
"We are off to town," Thorin shouted to the house at general, and then his heavy clumping footsteps (and Fëor's still heavier ones) disappeared out the door. Fili did not emerge from his hiding place in the parlor cupboard (a less than ideal hiding place, for he would have no reason for having been inside, had he been discovered) until he was sure there was no chance of Thorin suddenly reappearing. When he did risk coming out, he found Kili standing in the center of the room, looking at the cupboard expectantly.
"Some day," Kili said, "Thorin shall discover you in there and you shall be in tremendous trouble."
"He has not discovered me yet," Fili said. "And he was off to the pub, so there was little reason for him to look in there."
"Had you just sat down in a chair," Kili said, "there would have been no reason for him to suspect you of anything at all. Like as not, he would not even have noticed you."
"Not everyone can be overlooked so easily as you," Fili said tartly, then felt a little bad about it, even when Kili's expression did not change. Perhaps especially because Kili's expression did not change. And too because, between the two of them, Thorin was far more attuned to Kili's presence than Fili's, aware of him at every step, whereas Fili thought he probably held Thorin's attention fully only when he did something wrong. He coughed, embarrassed, and then said, "Well, do you want to know what I learned or not? Of course you do. You must. But I am still hungry. Did you throw out my bread and honey?"
"No," Kili said. "It is exactly as you left it on the table." His voice held the faintest trace of disapproval. "There is sausage left over from breakfast if you want something more substantial. I have not started preparing lunch yet."
"I do not think you shall need to make lunch," Fili said, following Kili back to the kitchen. "Thorin is off to the pub, and then to the forge, and I will be fine with bread and sausage."
Kili nodded. "Then I can catch up on some of the laundry. I was already behind before Alfen left." He sighed. "I almost feel as though I should thank him. I think I shall not be fit enough for Fëor's liking for at least another day, and it will be nice to have the time to get everything done here."
"Thank him," Fili repeated blankly. "For being clumsy enough to burn himself so that you must be punished?"
"When you say it like that, it sounds quite stupid," Kili admitted. "But I shall like having a bit of time to relax, all the same."
Kili's idea of relaxation was apparently getting to do all his chores, which was not at all what Fili would choose to do with his free time, but Fili had long since learned that he and Kili had very little common ground in that area. "So," he said, after he had eaten half his bread and wolfed down a sausage, cold but still delicious, "you have been surprisingly patient by not pestering me." (As if Kili would ever pester anyone about anything.) "So let me set your mind at ease. Thorin was quite firm that Fëor shall not take you away from here. It did not quite come to swords, but it might have, had Fëor continued to push."
"I do not think Thorin would ever lift a sword for me," Kili said. "For you, undoubtedly so. But I am relieved all the same. I thought perhaps …"
Fili frowned at him over another piece of honeyed bread. "Perhaps what?"
"That he might be glad of the chance to be rid of me." Kili did not look at him as he said this, but was busying himself around the kitchen, bending carefully to clean the crumbs that he had swept into a neat little pile. "I think he should be happier if it were just the two of you here."
Fili tried to imagine that for a moment, a house with just him and Thorin. All he could conceive of was that it should be very quiet and very boring. "I think he should be happier if it were just him here," he said. "He is not the sort to marry, you know. I do not think he ever wanted any dwarflings in his household at all, much less two of us. But you are wrong, if you think he should like to get rid of you. He would not even consider it."
"Because he feels obligated," Kili said. "He would not pass the curse on to another. That is all."
"Even so. Anyway, Fëor conceded eventually, and that is the end of that. He is quite impressed with you, you know. He thinks you shall make a very fine archer some day."
"I-" Kili said. "Well, that is a very nice thing for him to say."
"He was not saying it for your benefit, so I am sure he meant it. And that is good! Some day, you shall be an expert archer and I shall be an expert swordsman, and we shall roam Middle Earth and make our fortune together."
Kili stared at him very oddly but said nothing, and Fili eventually rose to his feet to clear his plate. "I suppose," he said, "I must return to my scrolls. They will not grow less for me avoiding them. Unless," he added hopefully, "you have any maths pages for me to review?"
"You must be very desperate for diversion," Kili said, "if checking my maths has appeal. I have only a little. I have had very little time, and I find geometry to be very difficult. I do not understand the point of it. How shall knowing about squares and triangles be of any use?"
"Why, there are squares and triangles everywhere you look!" Fili said. He gestured all around the kitchen. "The table, the chairs, even the walls of this room. Geometry is very important in the mines, to understand where to dig and how to brace the walls, and Thorin must understand it to work in the forge."
"I shall not be working in a mine," Kili said, "nor a forge."
"Well, when you shoot your bow, the path your arrow flies is determined by geometry. I think the world should fall apart if we did not have it."
"I do not think the world shall fall apart if I do not understand triangles," Kili said, staring around the room a little doubtfully, as if eying all the shapes within it. "Does it really matter for using the bow?"
"Aye. And it matters too for swords," Fili said, "for the path circumscribed by the blade is an arc."
Kili was beginning to look a little overwhelmed. "I think I preferred multiplication, all the same."
"That is only because you do not understand it yet," Fili said. "Go get your book, and I shall work through the problems with you."
"But I was to do the laundry," Kili said in a rather plaintive tone.
Fili sighed. "I shall help you with the laundry — no, do not argue, I shall! I can hang sheets to dry as well as you, and that shall give you some time to work on your maths."
"I think I prefer laundry to geometry," Kili grumbled, but he did not protest further when Fili followed him to the back room to help with the sheets. All in all, Fili considered this quite a victory indeed.
Summer was in full bloom, and all of Ered Luin was in a fine mood preparing for the Midsummer Festival, which was an entire day of feasts and games in the town square.
"Shall you captain our shinty team this year, Fili?" Kethi asked. They were sitting in a circle making daisy chains to festoon across the fences. Fili was not so fond of making daisy chains but he was very fond of the sweets the baker was to give them when they had finished.
"I do not know," Fili said. "Galar is older and stronger than me."
"But he is not a prince," Kethi said.
"I do not think that matters," Fili said. He chewed his tongue as he threaded one daisy to the next. His eyes were starting to hurt from all the squinting. It was a very bright day and he wished they had sat in the shade, but they were surrounded by daisies now and it would take too much effort to move.
"Well, he is not so good a player as you," Kethi said loyally.
Albed snorted. "I would not tell Galar that!"
"I will not," Fili said. "If he wants to captain he is welcome to. Then I shall not be the one to blame if we lose."
Bergin scoffed. "We shall not lose, even with Galar as captain. Fafin's team has lost their guard and batter. It will not even be a challenge. But I have heard there is to be a splendid arms competition this year!"
"There is a splendid arms competition at every festival," Fili said. "Don't you remember? Mr. Dwalin almost lost his ear at the last one."
"Oh, he was in no danger," Albed said. "He just does that so everyone thinks he is quite daring. Mother told me so."
Fili grunted. Albed's mother said very many things, most of which Albed accepted as if they were words from Mahal himself. Personally Fili thought Albed's mother was a bit too fond of the sound of her own voice, and that most of the things she stated as truth were nothing of the sort, but he would never tell Albed so. Having no mother himself, and very little experience with dams in general, he could not claim to be any sort of expert on the subject.
"Shall you compete, Fili?" Kethi asked, wide-eyed.
"In the arms competition?"
"You should!" Bergin said, looking up only from the mess of daisies on his lap, which in no way resembled any sort of chain. "You are of age."
"I am of age," Fili agreed, "but that is just a legality. I am hardly full grown, at least, I should hope I am not! The swords competition shall include sparring as it always does. I do not think I would make very much of a challenge for anyone."
"They ought to have a competition just for the younger dwarves," Albed said. "Those under 60, perhaps. They make you spar often enough for practice; they might as well let you compete."
"You can embarrass yourself if you want to, "Fili said, "but I am no particular rush to compete. I end up with my rear in the dust in front of Dwalin often enough as it is! I need no more humiliation than that."
"You would not end up with your dust in the rear if it were only dwarves under 60," Albed said. "You are the best of all us."
Fili considered this as he threaded another daisy. "That is true," he admitted, "but if I am so much better than the rest, there would be no sport in that, either."
Bergin hummed. "It is too bad there is no archery competition. Your Kili could show off."
Fili stared at him. "What?"
Bergin looked up from his not-a-daisy-chain. "Oh, Father was in the woods trapping and he saw that ranger fellow out with Kili. He has grown quite tall, Father said."
"Yes," Fili said cautiously. "He is of a height with me now. He will be taller than I am in the end, I am sure."
"Well, Father said that the ranger had Kili shooting from a fair distance, and he was very good. Father was very surprised, but mother said Kili is of Iron Hills stock and they breed archers over there like rabbits. Then Father said he didn't think we were permitted to speak of what stock Kili came from and Mother said that was ridiculous because he wasn't born of the stone itself. She said even if he had no mother and father he still had a sire and a dam and anyone could see who his were just by looking at him, and Father said he was sure we were not permitted to speak of that and she should stop before someone overheard. So she did, but she looked very annoyed, and she served the soup so hot for supper than Father burned his mouth, and she said that was an accident but I am not so sure it was." He lowered his voice. "It is not the first time that has happened when she has become irritated with him."
Fili could say nothing at all to this remarkable speech, but sat and gaped at Bergin in silence.
"Your father is very sensible," Albed said primly. "It is forbidden to talk of such things. And you are ridiculous if you think Kili should compete in anything at all.Khazd khuv cannot do that sort of thing."
"I do not see why not," Bergin said. "There is no law to prevent him from competing, is there, Fili? Only perhaps he could not join us at the feast afterwards."
"I-" Fili was rather dumbfounded at the turn the conversation had taken. "I do not know. It has never come up."
"Well, I for one should like to see it," Bergin said. "I have never seen anyone shoot a bow at all. The hunters do, of course, but only out in the forest, and Mother and Father will not permit me to attend them. But I think I should like to learn. Perhaps that ranger can teach me when he is done with Kili."
"I think he is leaving in a few days' time," Fili managed, still rather dumbstruck. "I think he should have left already, but he decided to stay for the festival. After that he is to head south to Gondor."
"Oh," Bergin said. "That is a pity." Then he looked down at his lap with a frown. "I have had enough of daisies for today. I say we drop these off with the baker and collect our treats."
There was no dissension, and the rest of the day was spent running off the effects of the jam- filled pastries, with no more talk of Kili or rangers or archery.
But Fili had gotten the idea stuck in his head, and it would not leave. "Uncle," he asked that night as they were eating dinner. "Is there a law against khazd khuv taking part in an arms competition?"
Thorin went still, and slowly lowered his fork to his plate. "Why do you ask?"
"Oh," Fili said, as if it did not matter at all, "some of us were talking today. And I know it is nonsense, but someone said that Kili could compete at archery so long as there was no law against it."
"It is nonsense," Thorin said, "for we do not have enough archers of any skill to host an archery competition." He picked up his fork and began eating again, seemingly content to let the matter drop.
"But if we had one," Fili said, "could Kili compete?"
"Fili." Now Thorin's voice had grown a little sharp. "I do not see the point of this. We have no such competition, and it is unlikely we ever shall."
"But if we did," Fili persisted.
Thorin frowned, and his look at Fili was hard and unforgiving. "If we did, though there is no law against it, Kili would not compete."
This seemed profoundly unfair, even if it would never come to matter. "Why not? He does little enough else for fun, and it would harm no one."
"I would not enter him in a competition only to have everyone else drop out on finding out he was in it. And they would, do not doubt it, for who would risk losing to a khazd khuv?"
"Oh," Fii said lowly. "I had not considered that."
"And if he were to enter," Thorin went on, intent and relentless, "what then? Afterwards I should have to bring him home, for he could not stay for the feast and parties, and that, I think, might be even more cruel, for he would see it and know he could not partake of any of it. What he knows of such things right now is only what you tell him, and most of that is complaint, so I do not think he minds very much that he must miss them." He sighed. "It is hard enough for him, trapped in the house all the time. I would not make it worse by letting him see that which he can have no part of. Let him imagine only that it is dull speeches and foul wine. He is no worse off for not knowing better."
Fili had considered none of this either, and it left him feeling rather dispirited, even though he had never really held any expectation of Kili competing or even attending the festival. Still, to hear it laid out so baldly was disheartening, and he only hoped that Kili was far enough away in the house that he would not have overheard any of this conversation, even with his exceptional hearing. But surely he was, for Thorin would never have said such things if there was a chance that Kili would overhear.
"Who put such a notion in your head?" Thorin asked.
"Bergin," Fili said glumly.
Thorin hummed. "His mother is one of Dáin's folk. I am not surprised he would suggest such a thing." He took a long sip of his wine and sat back in his chair, playing idly with his goblet. "I think that is enough heavy talk for one night. I hope you have been practicing your fiddle. I told Glóin you would play tomorrow."
"You what? Uncle!" Fili stared at Thorin, aghast. "I have not prepared anything!"
"Oh, play some little ditty," Thorin said. "I shall bring my harp, and Bofur — have you met the Urs yet? They are recently arrived from the southern settlements — Bofur shall play the flute."
Fili groaned, now looking forward to the festival less than he had been. He excused himself quickly and spent the rest of the night furiously practicing his fiddle, to the point that even Kili began to make a displeased face at hearing the same song for the dozenth time.
"You shall be home alone tomorrow," Fili said sourly, "and then you shall not have to hear me play the fiddle at all. With all that time, I expect you will finish all the rest of the geometry pages you have been avoiding."
Kili scowled. "The weather promises to be fair again, so I shall be tending to the weeds. The garden is getting overgrown."
"And after that you can finish the geometry pages. Come now, Fëor is leaving, so you shall have plenty of time to catch up on your chores. It will not kill you to spend a little time catching up on your maths too."
"I still do not see why I must learn this," Kili said grumpily. "Even if there are shapes all around, it seems to me that knowing what they are should be enough."
"You cannot know now what will come to be important later in life," Fili said, quoting Balin word for word. "If I can do percentages, you can do triangles. I will even bring you home a lemon tart as a reward."
Kili looked torn. He was very fond of lemon tarts, though perhaps not fond enough of them to do geometry. "Very well," he said eventually. He did not look at all happy. "But can we return to regular maths afterward? I should like to learn those percentages you are always complaining about."
Fili laughed. "Do you know," he said, "I think the two of us together should make one very good maths student." With that, he bid Kili good-night, and headed off to bed.
The next day was long and sunny and glorious, a perfect day for the midsummer festival. Fili's team won the shinty match quite handily (as expected, Fafin's team was no challenge, but Fili still felt he acquitted himself very well, and he had been named captain after all) and the town square was filled with food and drink all day — fresh meat pies and all sorts of sweet tarts and pastries, sweet churned butter and warm milk with cream floating atop, and eggs still warm from the hen.
The fiddle playing was hardly so much of a disaster as Fili had feared, for by the time the instruments came out, most of the dwarves had been at the wine and mead all day, and had nothing but compliments for anyone who was sober enough to so much as produce a single note. And Bofur proved to be an entirely ridiculous sort, with a big droopy mustache and an even bigger droopier hat, and he had no shame at all but danced on the table tops singing songs Fili was only just old enough to hear.
Even the evening's feast was bearable, as Fili now knew he need not drink any of Glóin's horrible wine, so long as he was sneaky enough to get rid of it without anyone seeing, and, properly motivated, he could be very sneaky indeed. He even remembered to pluck a lemon tart off the dessert table, and one with a poppy seed filling that he thought Kili might enjoy too, and walked home in a fine mood, Thorin tipsy and very cheerful at his side.
"I do not think that is an appropriate song," Fili said, after Thorin had belted out one particularly bawdy verse of an old mining chanty.
"You are of age, nephew," Thorin said, slurring a little. He had really had quite a lot to drink. "No need to keep protecting your tender ears."
"Hmm," Fili said. "I shall see if you feel the same in the morning. Here, we are home, let me help you into the house." And so he did, though Thorin was rather heavier than Fili could easily move. For once Kili was not waiting up for them, so Fili had to wrangle Thorin to bed all by himself, which was a bit of a challenge, as Thorin was lurching side to side and at one point he tripped and nearly dragged Fili down to the floor with him. But eventually, Fili had Thorin all tucked away and snoring happily, and he made his own way to bed, stopping only by the kitchen to leave the two pastries (now a little worse for wear) on a plate in the kitchen for Kili's breakfast.
There were no pages of math waiting for him, which was a little surprising. Fili found he was looking forward to hearing the explanation Kili would devise for the lack, likely some home-repair that had suddenly needed urgent doing, and took precedence over Fili's request. Of course, had Thorin ordered Kili to have done his geometry, it would have been done no matter what had broken or caught fire or gotten flooded, but Fili's authority over Kili was much murkier, especially about matters unrelated to the running of the household. Not that Kili would directly disobey a direct order (Fili didn't think), but he was more than capable of worming his way around the indirect ones when he was feeling stubborn.
But then Fili felt a twinge of guilt, for it occurred to him belatedly that this might not be an instance of Kili being stubborn, but just a case of Kili being exhausted. He had agreed to do the geometry, it was true, but only after Fili had insisted and promised him the tart (Fili wished Balin would more often bribe him with treats!). It was very unlike Kili to be abed before Thorin and Fili came home. Even though Thorin always insisted he needn't wait up,Kili almost always did. And Kili had been run ragged these past few months, especially once Alfen left. If he hadn't done his maths it was almost certainly because the promise of a full good night's sleep had proved impossible to resist.
Well, things should settle down quickly, Fili thought sleepily. He turned in bed to get comfortable, already half asleep. Fëor would be gone in a day or two, and Kili's archery lessons would end, and eventually Thorin would find another cook to take Alfen's place, perhaps even one with a more pleasant disposition, and then life could return to normal.
A/N: Happy Spring (and happy Passover, and happy Easter)! Sorry for the delay on this chapter. My trusty beta SapphireMusings was sidelined by the flu and has been feeling horrible. The next chapter should be up much sooner.
