A/N: Ah, we couldn't give y'all a Christmas present but we can supply a New Years gift. Sorry about the late update. All we can say is that, with limited amounts of time (plus waiting for the ROTK EE to watch the HOH scenes...somewhat disappointing actually since there were no scenes with Faramir being healed by Aragorn) this chapter was slow in coming. Check out our author page for a full explanation.
Okay, continuing on, one of the more general questions from our reviewers is whether or not Boromir will 'come to his senses' about the whole Gandalf killing Denethor thing. Hang with us on that. It's just the way we see things going. Also, if you're expecting Boromir and Gandalf to just make up (or even Faramir once he learns the whole story)...not gonna happen. Regardless of the fact that Denethor was insane...he was still Boromir and Faramir's father and they loved him. It will take awhile for the two of them to get past this.
On another note, I noticed after I posted the last chapter that Cinnamon-Sweet-Heart got two replies to one review which said basically the same thing. I promise we're not picking favorites, nor am I losing my mind...OK, so that last part may well be true, I have long since lost my mind. Anyway, my point being, by the time I finished typing the actual story chapter and got to the reviews it was like 12:30 am, I was tired and "doped" up on Mountain Dew Code Red.
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Chapter 34 summary: The battle of the Pelennor is won. Farothen has seen to Faramir in the Houses of Healing and found not one life in danger, but two. Aragorn rushes his once again ailing husband into said Houses of Healing. Meanwhile, Eomer finds his uncle and sister dead on the battlefield.
Now, off you go, on to the House of Healing...
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Chapter 35
TA 3019 March 14 – Early evening
Minas Tirith – House of Healing
Every instinct in Aragorn's body screamed at him to return to his husband's side. The elf had yet to wake up, exhaustion keeping him under. Only rest would alleviate Legolas' most recent ailment.
For three months now the elf had fought his way across Middle Earth battling orcs, Uruk-Hai...oliphaunts. That last thought still had Aragorn bristling, and once Legolas caught up on his rest...
Aragorn shook his head, 'Concentrate! Faramir needs you now! Legolas is safe where he is.'
Focusing his attention on the man lying in the bed Aragorn sighed. Only he had the skill to bring Faramir out of the dark vale he walked in. It would be a long, difficult fight...but one he intended to win.
The scent of athelas, from the leaves Aragorn had steeping in a couple bowls of hot water, permeated the room, infusing Aragorn with much needed strength as he sat down beside Faramir on the bed. Knowing he may be there for a while he settled into a more comfortable position, glad he was alone in the room. He could little afford any disruptions.
At first Boromir had been there, stubbornly insisting he wasn't leaving Faramir's side, much like a mother bear guarding her cub. In attempt to keep peace, Aragorn had initially allowed the elder Hurin to stay...until Boromir had proven to be more of a nuisance than a help.
Wishing to appease Boromir's flare of temper at being banned from his brother's side Aragorn had sent him and Farothen in search of Eomer. The young horse lord had the right to be there in case the worst should happen. Especially given the little twist of fate Farothen had whispered of in Aragorn's ear at the last minute.
Settled comfortably, Aragorn leaned over Faramir, placing one hand lightly on the young Hurin's brow, murmuring, "Alright, young one, it's time to come back now. There are those who need you."
Quietly he continued to call the younger man's name at varying intervals, mending his way through the darkness holding Faramir prisoner. Concentrating on his task he left reality behind.
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'Let go.'
The voice was neutral, neither male, nor female. But it spoke with potent lure, lulling Faramir toward giving in.
Oh how he wished to just give in, leave behind this awful black void and a lifetime of pain and abandonment by a father who should have loved him. No one would really miss him.
'Let go. There is nothing for you here.'
Yes. Yes, he would just let go.
"Please don't go."
The small voice stopped him and he looked down, his mouth dropping open in speechless surprise at seeing a small boy sitting before him. Blue eyes that Faramir saw everyday in the mirror gazed up at him framed by dark gold blond hair that hung in gentle waves to the child's shoulders.
He blinked, thinking he was seeing things. When he opened them again and the boy was gone he was positive he'd lost his mind. Until he heard the whispered plea again, 'Don't go.'
He shook his head, wondering if insanity was hereditary.
Once again the voice from before urged him to let go, offering him escape from the shadow and Faramir made to accept the offered freedom. But then a new voice rang out, stronger and even more authoritative.
"Faramir, lasto beth nin. Come back to us...away from the shadow."
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"So much death and destruction just to give a hobbit the chance to destroy a ring." Farothen murmured as he followed Boromir through the destruction the battle had wrought on the Pelennor at the base of the White City.
The young half elf stared around in shock, finally beginning to understand why his ada had wanted him to stay behind in Lorien. Helm's Deep had been bad but Farothen had not walked through the dead afterward, it had not really hit him then. Now, though, seeing both enemies and allies lying dead, he began to realize how lucky he had been in his life to not have to deal with this day by day.
All the while Boromir tried to remain as impassive as possible, hiding his true feelings behind an emotionless mask. Whether he did so for his own sake or for Farothen, who was as yet fairly green at warfare, Boromir wasn't sure. Yet, with each ally he saw lying dead the pain in his heart grew. Even so, he felt immense relief each time the fallen Rohirrim proved not to be Eomer.
"Boromir," Farothen suddenly whispered, pointing off to the left, "He's there."
Boromir turned to look in the direction his husband indicated. At first he saw only the fallen dragon of a Nazgul, though that bit of information only vaguely registered before he saw what Farothen saw.
Sitting not far from the dragon Eomer cradled a fallen soldier in his arms. The young horse lord seemed to be in shock, acknowledging nothing around him as he stared sightlessly ahead.
Eomer failed to notice Boromir and Farothen's approach until the half elf knelt in front of him and murmured his name. The man blinked and met Farothen's gaze, muttering a broken, "Sh...she wasn't supposed to be here. We told her to go back to Edoras."
Hesitantly Farothen lowered his gaze to the soldier in Eomer's arms and felt his heart constrict. Eowyn. He shook his head sadly and lifted his gaze back to Eomer's.
"I am so sorry." Farothen whispered thickly, lifting his gaze to Boromir's, his thoughts clear to the Gondorian.
'How do we tell him Faramir is in mortal peril as well? He has already lost his sister.'
Boromir sighed and knelt down by the man of Rohan as well. Swallowing he put a hand comfortingly on the younger man's shoulder, "Eomer, I...Faramir is..."
Turning his gaze to Boromir's Eomer shook his head slowly, his eyes pleading, "No. Say he is not..."
"He is not good." Boromir half sobbed.
"I must go to him." Eomer gasped almost desperately, starting to rise before he remembered through his panic for his lover that he still held his sister's body. He looked back down at the still features, "Eowyn..."
Surprisingly it was Farothen who replied with a quiet, "I will see that her body is brought to the Hallows. She will be honored for the deeds she did here. Your place is with Faramir."
Eomer nodded, gently lying Eowyn back against the ground, "Thank you, Farothen."
After one more second's hesitation and a last glance at his sister's body, Eomer ran toward the city, leaving Boromir and Farothen alone, kneeling on the battlefield. Farothen looked his husband in the eye.
"You should go as well. I know you wish to be by your brother as well."
"I do." Boromir replied somberly, "But my place is by your side. You must be my first priority. I trust Aragorn with my little one. And Eomer is the one Faramir needs right now...even if he is unaware Eomer is there."
Farothen merely nodded in acceptance of his husband's choice, knowing it was impossible to change Boromir's mind once it was made up...and vastly glad the older man had not chosen to leave him to do his duty to Eowyn's body alone.
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Half an hour later Farothen wasn't sure if it was his Elven instincts, the fact that he was Boromir's husband or both that told him the Gondorian was only about ten seconds from losing it, but he was immensely grateful when he located Gamling and several other Rohirrim who took over the task of preparing the funeral rights for Theoden King and Lady Eowyn. Ironic that Boromir was trying to keep all his emotions bottled up inside, hoping not to burden his husband, but Farothen was the one coping better emotionally. For all that Farothen had never seen death on such a wide scale and the sight on the Pelennor shocked and saddened him, the city and people who had been besieged were not yet his...and never would be if his ada never took his throne.
Boromir had taken to heart every demolished home, every missing stone, and most importantly, every lost life. On top of all that was the very personal loss of seeing his father die in front of him and the uncertain fate of his little brother.
Taking everything into consideration Farothen gently suggested that they head back to the House of Healing to check on Faramir. Though his true hope was to find a place for Boromir to lie down and rest.
"Excuse me, lords," one of the Rohirrim pressed, "Do you think you could locate our king in the House of Healing? As our new king he should preside over Theoden King and Lady Eowyn's funerary rights."
Farothen resisted the urge to roll his eyes. The Rohirrim who had spoken was young, no more than twenty, if that, and clearly couldn't understand how sensitive Eomer was bound to be at the moment. Each loss the new king of Rohan had suffered in the last few weeks would make it hard for him to accept his new role.
Unfortunately, the young Rohirrim's innocent question only served as the last straw on Boromir's already fraying temper, "I doubt your king will be presiding over anything tonight."
Boromir's tone had even Farothen backing up. Never before had he heard that particular tone from his husband.
"Look around you, boy. Most of Rohan's riders are lying somewhere on this battlefield having been slain by arrow, sword or wraith or been trampled by Oliphaunt. No matter what happens from here both Gondor and Rohan have been severely weakened and demoralized. Do you honestly believe even Eomer will be contemplating anything tonight?!"
Each point made signaled a rise in Boromir's tone. Each rise heralded a frightened back-step from the young man of Rohan. Yet Boromir wasn't finished.
"Tonight Eomer will grieve over his uncle, sister and cousin while he sits vigil over the only other person whom he truly loves. His lover may yet die, so for tonight Eomer is merely a warrior grieving the loss of his loved ones. Time enough tomorrow for him to take up the mantle of King!"
The last was fairly shouted and with that Boromir spun on his heel and stalked off. Farothen glanced frantically back and forth between his husband and the young, petrified Rohirrim before giving the lad an apologetic shrug and running after Boromir. The boy was still so shook up that he fairly jumped out of his boots when Gamling placed a comforting hand on his shoulder.
"I...I'm sorry! I..." the boy stammered, "I didn't realize..."
Gamling shook his head at the boy's protest, "It's alright, boy. Despite what you think, Boromir's anger wasn't at you."
"But...he seemed..."
"Even the famous Captain-General of the White Tower has his limits." Gamling said with a sigh, "And his have been pushed many times this day, I fear."
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After several hours, Aragorn finally allowed himself a sigh of relief. Faramir had decided to return to them.
He would probably never admit to either Boromir or Eomer how close they had actually come to losing Faramir. The young man had been on the verge of giving up and letting go to pass from this world into the next. Some strength had yet remained in Denethor's younger son, though, and it had given him the will to live.
"Where is the boy?"
The words were spoken so faintly that Aragorn didn't realize at first that they had come from Faramir. Looking down in shock he found his gaze locked with his patient's. Faramir had woken, though just barely. His eyes seemed heavy and remain open only a crack, yet they were clearly confused.
"The boy," he repeated, "Where is the boy?"
"What boy?" Aragorn asked.
Faramir glanced away as understanding lit his eyes. Then he looked back at Aragorn, "I saw a boy...in a vision. He pleaded with me not to go."
Faramir's eyes went wide as instinct kicked in, "He was my son!"
"Yes," Aragorn agreed, trying to hide his surprise at the extent of insight in Faramir's vision.
"But...how?"
Aragorn sighed, "You are Numenorean, descended from Elros. That means you have some Elven blood and...some male elves have the ability to conceive."
Faramir seemed to take the news completely in stride as his hand went to his abdomen, "I thought...being with Eo...I would never be able to have children of my own."
"You should probably know, Faramir," Aragorn started, "Your son is now heir to Rohan's throne."
"What?"
"With both Theoden and Theodred gone Eomer is now king."
Faramir looked away again, trying to absorb that bit of news, before turning back to Aragorn once more, intending to distract himself by asking, "How do you know about this gift of Numenor?"
Aragorn grinned sheepishly, "You could say I did not escape this 'gift' either."
Faramir studied Aragorn, his gaze just as insightful as his father's, yet sympathetic rather than menacing, "You are Aragorn. Our exiled king."
"How do you know this?" Aragorn asked in a near whisper.
Faramir smiled weakly, "I have seen you many times, my lord. A crown upon your head, my brother at your side."
"Faramir?"
The voice was choked and came from the doorway. Both Aragorn and Faramir looked over to see Eomer. He stood just inside the door with a look of reluctant hope on his face, as if he wasn't sure he could truly trust what he saw before him.
Faramir stretched his hand out to his lover with a smile, "Eo."
Eomer crossed the room in three strides to take the older man's hand. Tears streamed down his face the entire time.
Faramir tried to sit up to greet his lover but it soon became obvious that he was still too weak so Eomer motioned for him to remain on his back, "Please, my jewel, you need to rest."
"What troubles you, my love?" Faramir asked, gently wiping a tear from Eomer's face with his thumb.
"I lost both my uncle and sister today." Eomer whispered as Faramir regarded him with concern, "I am merely glad to find you still among the living. Now, you must rest."
Faramir couldn't argue with that. Just the short conversation with Aragorn had exhausted him and for his unborn son's sake he had to get as much rest as possible. With Eomer lovingly stroking his hair he soon fell into healing slumber, returning to dreams of a beautiful little boy with Eomer's dark blond hair and his own blue eyes.
In the meantime, Eomer turned to Aragorn with a look of thanks on his face, "How did you call him back to us?"
Aragorn bit his bottom lip, wondering if he should tell Eomer of Faramir's pregnancy, though it really wasn't his place to do so. In the end he merely smiled, "He remembered his loved ones."
Eomer nodded, suddenly exhausted, himself. While Aragorn stood up and stretched after having been in the same position for hours, Eomer curled up next to Faramir and also fell asleep.
Aragorn was just as exhausted as the two on the bed or he would have noticed the heavy steps behind him.
"How's my little one?"
Aragorn literally jumped, spinning as he did so, and found himself facing a concerned Boromir.
"Faramir will be alright." Aragorn said, "And so will his son."
At that little slip Aragorn had to resist the urge to slap a hand over his mouth as he realized what he'd just revealed, "I...I mean..."
Boromir gave a half grin as he sank onto the nearest cot, intending to stay within reach of his little brother 'just in case' and nodded toward the blond man asleep beside Faramir, "Eomer know?"
Aragorn shook his head, "I felt that was Faramir's news to tell."
"Of course." Boromir agreed, stifling a yawn as he lay down and closed his eyes.
"You cannot not say anything either." Aragorn added as an after-thought, not fully trusting Boromir to keep his knowledge secret.
"Mmm-hmm." Boromir muttered, already half asleep.
"Boromir!" Aragorn warned sharply.
The only response was Boromir's soft breathing. As Aragorn threw up his hands in disbelief Farothen rushed in and looked down at Boromir with an incredulous look on his face.
"I've been trying to get him to lie down all day!" Farothen exclaimed, "How'd you manage to do so in such a short time?!"
Trying to ignore the warning in his head about how far things had gone between Boromir and his son Aragorn grinned tiredly at Farothen, "I told him his 'little one' would be alright."
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March 15 – Morning
If Aragorn had expected to be the first to reach the throne room the next morning for the Council of War he was proven wrong when he found Boromir there before him. Surprisingly, the younger man was settled comfortably in the White Throne of all places, his legs carelessly slung over one arm, his elbow propped on the other, head braced in his hand.
Cocking a brow Aragorn smirked, tilting his head somewhat like a doting father, "Bori."
Boromir gave a careless shrug and drawled meaningfully, "You let me sit here when I was two...Thorongil."
A moment of surprise flickered in Aragorn's eyes that Boromir actually remembered him from his days as Thorongil before he said, "I did no..."
He tapered off as a golden-haired, green-eyed toddler grinned at him from memory, seated upon the throne like a miniature king. He smiled sheepishly, "Oh, yeah. I did."
"Although," Boromir continued as if he always sat where he currently was, "At that point you were 'Torogi'."
Aragorn chuckled at that, remembering this man as a two-year old, toddling after him, repeating his newly learned word of the day...'Torogi'. He sighed, "I loved that name. How do you remember that so clearly?"
Before Boromir got a chance to reply the throne room door opened again and Gandalf, Farothen and Eomer walked in. Eomer and Farothen both gave Boromir amused looks. Gandalf, on the other hand, remembering Denethor's fairly recent vow that the rule of Gondor was his 'and no other's', merely spared the Captain-General a withering glare. Boromir was only too happy to return the glare with one of his own and silently refused to move from his seat. In the midst of the glaring contest, Gimli came in from the other side of the hall and, noting the tension, glanced between Gandalf's glare, Aragorn's semi-amused, yet exasperated look and Boromir's defiant glare.
It was the look on Boromir's face that set Gimli to chuckling as he seated himself upon the steward's chair. Gandalf lost the battle of wills with the new steward of Gondor and turned away, shaking his head. Boromir's response was to look down at Gimli with a triumphant grin. Eomer and Farothen, though, hid their amusement well, trying to keep straight faces since they were there for a serious discussion.
While Boromir's gaze was away from Gandalf Aragorn approached the wizard, hoping to diffuse the tension, speaking in a whisper so as not to be overheard, "Let it go, Gandalf. If I do not care that Boromir sits on my throne I do not see why you should."
Gandalf grumbled to himself in a language too old for Aragorn to understand but was pacified for the moment. Pacing a little as he tried to figure out how to begin he eventually decided on just coming right to the point.
"Frodo has passed beyond my sight," he admitted, "The darkness is deepening."
"If Sauron had the ring we would know it." Aragorn replied over his shoulder, having turned around to face Farothen, who stood entirely too close to the throne for his liking.
"It's only a matter of time." Gandalf said with a hint of despair in his voice, "He has suffered a defeat, yes...but behind the walls of Mordor our enemy is regrouping."
"Let him stay there," Gimli declared, "Let him rot! Why should we care?"
"Because 10,000 orcs now stand between Frodo and Mount Doom," Gandalf answered just as Merry and Pippin walked in. They may have missed the beginning of the discussion but it was obvious from their suddenly rounded eyes that they guessed the topic.
Gimli remained silent after Gandalf's announcement, not knowing how to reply. The silence was only broken by the wizard's next, quietly spoken comment, "I've sent him to his death."
"Why should that bother you, wizard?" Boromir said off-handedly, yet with enough venom in his voice to have everyone staring at him in shock, "You had no qualms about sending my father to his."
"Boromir..." Aragorn started warningly.
Boromir ignored his king as he stood up from the throne and faced Gandalf. All in the room instinctively backed from him as he descended the seven steps in front of him. Upon reaching the bottom he continued advancing on Gandalf, anger in his every stiff move, yet no one tried to stop him.
"Shadowfax would not have reared the way he did against my father unless by your command," Boromir started again, barely suppressing his rage as he saw his father once again in his memory, aflame as he dived off the edge of the Citadel, "You could have just as easily kicked my father to the side instead of back onto the pyre. Any fool knows a man soaked in oil is going to burn quickly."
The Gondorian paused to collect himself before starting again. Although, instead of calming himself, the pause had only worked in reverse, as it often did, and allowed Boromir's temper to rise, "And after your speech to Frodo in Moria...'do not rule out death and judgment' I would have expected you to do what you preached. But I guess your rules do not apply to you!"
Having reached Gandalf by that point Boromir stood with his fists clenched at his sides, but he managed to restrain himself from swinging at the wizard, his voice an almost deadly growl, "Or were you so eager to set a king that you could manipulate on the throne that you let your contempt for my father progress to taking his life?"
"Boromir!" Aragorn shouted. The Gondorian said nothing more but he didn't back down from Gandalf either.
Aragorn, for his part, was in disbelief at what Boromir was implying. Gandalf had killed Denethor?! It didn't seem possible...yet, Gandalf did have a guilty look on his face.
There had been two other people in the hallows when Denethor had died. Aragorn glanced at Pippin and Farothen, seeking the truth. Pippin quickly lowered his gaze in shame that was not his own. Farothen merely gave his father a grave nod.
Aragorn sucked in a breath as he realized his son's nod, and even Pippin's shame, only confirmed Boromir's accusation. He spared a momentary, condemning glance at Gandalf before shaking his head. This conversation had to wait. All would be for naught if the Ring wasn't destroyed.
"Boromir," Aragorn started again, very carefully, "I beg of you, please, let this matter go for now. We must concentrate on helping Frodo now."
Boromir said nothing, merely turning away and striding to the middle of the room. There he remained, his back turned, arms crossed, but he stayed in the hall. His voice sounded dead when he spoke neutrally, "What can we do to help Frodo?"
"He needs time," Aragorn answered, relieved that his friend was cooperating, "And safe passage across the plains of Gorgoroth. We can give him that."
"How?" Gimli asked, his voice coming out shaky after Boromir's 'scene'.
"Draw out Sauron's army." Aragorn replied, "Then we gather our full strength and march upon the Black Gates."
Gimli exhaled a cloud of smoke with a huff, shocked by Aragorn's announcement. In the meantime, Eomer took a small step forward, "We cannot achieve victory through strength of arms."
"Not for ourselves." Aragorn admitted, "But we can give Frodo his chance if we keep Sauron's eye fixed upon us. Keep him blind to all else that moves."
Farothen nodded in understanding, "A diversion."
"Certainty of death," Gimli piped up, "Small chance of success..." He gave a careless shrug, "Sounds like fun."
Gandalf, giving the appearance that he had recovered from Boromir's 'speech', leaned in close to Aragorn and argued, "Sauron will suspect a trap. He will not take the bait."
"Oh, I think he will." Aragorn replied cryptically, cocky assurance and a touch of defiance in his tone, leaving Gandalf to wonder at his intentions. Turning to Eomer Aragorn continued, "Will Rohan's riders march with Gondor?"
"We will be ready by morning." Eomer vowed, giving a small bow of his head to Aragorn, then turned to leave.
Farothen and the hobbits also took the opportunity to leave the still tense room with mumbled excuses. Boromir simply walked out a side door without a word to anyone. Ignoring Gandalf and Gimli Aragorn ran after his soon-to-be steward. He caught the younger man just outside the door.
"Boromir...I know you are upset, but...please, I need your help on this campaign." Aragorn pleaded, "I need Gondor's Captain-General."
Boromir turned to face Aragorn as the older man continued, "So does Gondor. Can I count on you?"
"I said I would follow you, my king." Boromir said, "My allegiance is not so easily tossed aside."
The younger man started to turn away again but Aragorn stopped him once more, "Do you really think I am easily manipulated?"
Boromir looked back through the throne room door where Gandalf still stood, moping. Giving a small smile, which was all he could muster at the moment, he lightly squeezed his king's shoulder.
"No," he said softly, "Not anymore."
Then, with a bow of his head Boromir turned and walked away, leaving Aragorn alone in the hall. Sighing he leaned back against the wall. No matter what happened tomorrow, who survive and who died, nothing would ever be the same again.
The Fellowship would always be broken.
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Elvish translation...
Lasto beth nin – Listen to my voice.
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Replies to reviews...
Agarwaenloth: (suspiciously) Are you sure? I was almost positive that the book ROTK referred to Mumakil and Oliphaunts as two different animals. Yet, alas, as I look back in the book, you are right. See I can admit it when I'm wrong. But I still refuse to give in to the reviewer who said "Mae govannen" means 'well met', because in the movie it meant 'welcome' and this story is movie based, sooo...Anyway, I like your penname. Very unique.
nodaaaaaa: Sorry, but our updates will probably remain to be fairly irregular. There's a full explanation on our author page. But on another hand, I'm glad you like the story.
Starr Light1: No we didn't kill Eowyn just because she was the one Faramir was supposed to end up with. We have no personal grudge against Eowyn. We merely did not wish to explain another relationship involving her, nor did we know what else to do with her. Beyond that, somebody had to replace Boromir since we let him live. Besides, we had a slightly sadistic wish to see how y'all would react. I know, mean of us, but what's the fun of writing fanfiction if you can't change things like that just for the hell of it? Hope you still like the story though, and maybe we'll "read' you later.
Legoviel: I'm glad you like the story. I know I've said before, but really the only reason to read mpreg is because it's so silly. Also, glad you like Farothen. We were surprised when his character went over so well. We feared that, like most OC's, he wouldn't be liked very well...especially when he's paired with a major character like Boromir and plays a big part in the story.
Arch-Nemesis: Yes, we killed off Eowyn. And as for Gandalf the White being different from Gandalf the Grey...I suppose you could be right. But we still retain that he could have chosen a different way to stop Denethor and we believe Denethor's sons would feel the same way. Personally, both Brina and I liked Gandalf the Grey better. Gandalf the White seems a little too arrogant...and not in a good way, like Haldir.
Saihitei Seishuku/Mana-san: Yes, that did sound wrong. Anyway, here's the latest update. By the way, thanks for the cookies.
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On another note...If anyone actually reads this far, we have Chapter 2 of 'Change of Destiny' in the works, but it is not nearly finished. We will finish it as soon as humanly...well, as soon as possible for us anyway.
Thanks again to all our reviewers, and read you later.
Becky and Brina