Ripples

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

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Some Vindication At last

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After an hour of searching Aragorn couldn't hold Legolas any longer, his heart wrenched every time he felt the prince jerk and flinch. Fortunately, when he felt he was going to drop, Aragorn came across a place to hide that wasn't optimal but was acceptable -barely.

It was cave-like but obviously had been tunneled into the dirt some time ago by a large beast, though it seemed long abandoned and there were no tracks to show the animal had ever returned. Then again, the rain had washed a lot of the top layer of soil away; leaving the plants uprooted and footprints prior to the rains vanished.

Laying Legolas gently upon the cool grass outside of it, Aragorn was glad to find the Elf had gone into a fitful sleep and was a little more relaxed. Peaking is head inside the entrance that was hardly imposing and wasn't much bigger than what a large dog could squeeze through, Aragorn smiled when he saw old piles of soft, dead grass littering the room. A warg must have had her pups in here at one time. But that was no matter, she wasn't here now.

Backing out of the hole, Aragorn gently gathered Legolas up in his arms, causing the prince to stir and his eyes fluttered open as he looked around in alarm and then relaxed as Aragorn's face swam into view. The Elf gave a weak smile and then asked in a whisper, "w-why have we stopped?"

Aragorn just brushed back some of the blonde hair sticky to the icy sweat of Legolas' face. "You need rest and tending to. I think I found a place that will work for us as a shelter for a time."

He knew Legolas would never go for this. There was no question. If the light couldn't find its way in then it was a place Legolas would never willingly go. Trouble was, there was no other option that was reasonable.

Feeling like a traitor, but not knowing any other way to get Legolas into the tunneled structure, Aragorn placed his hand gently over the Elf's eyes, shutting them. "Trust me. Keep your eyes closed. I promise I will be right beside you."

Legolas moved Aragorn's hand and gave him a skeptical glare before the ranger replaced it and shushed the Elf's arguments by placing a finger on Legolas' mouth. "You know I am not going to hurt you," he reasoned calmly, smiling as Legolas' lips twitched, trying to hide a grin. "Trust me and rest. Your body craves it."

Legolas chuckled softly despite his pain, even though he regretted it instantly as fireballs seemed to tear his abdomen to pieces. "I trust you, Estel," he answered before he began to slide into a fitful sleep once more, his chest rising and falling quickly with his shallow breathing.

Aragorn smiled and regathered the Elf, crouching low so they could both fit under the entrance and enter the underground configuration.

It was a tight squeeze between the two of them and more than a little strenuous on already tired muscles, but before two minutes had passed they were both inside and Aragorn had gingerly laid the prince down on some of the clean, dry grass that was thin bedding. The fact that though the Elf was dozing fitfully but his muscles were still taut as bowstrings was not lost on Aragorn, who scowled and shook his head.

Trusting the Elf would remain asleep and not open his eyes for some time, Aragorn quietly began to heap some of the drier grasses to make a small fire of kindling so there could be more light and he would be able to tend to his friend. The smoke could exit through the small door, but he was still a bit concerned that it would rob their meager shelter of its oxygen supply that already seemed scanty. After he had cleared a wide ring of dirt so that the fire wouldn't spread and kill them both he was ready light it.

However, he decided he was going to hold off until the last possible moment. The last thing he needed was for it to burn out before he had a chance to use it.

Pulling his small supply of Athelas from his pocket, Aragorn grimaced as he realized he had no water to boil it in. Looking over to the motionless form of the Elf, who for the shadows could barely be seen, the ranger knew he would have to trust to the Valar that the Elf would be safe and not wake while he went to get water.

He knew waking underground would be frightening for the prince and didn't want to be gone when Legolas began to come around and realized he was nearly incased with dirt walls.

So, putting his trust in the unseen, the man crawled out the entrance and sort of pressed the weeds close around the dark hole, making it less conspicuous to prying eyes. Standing back and looking it, he figured it was probably passable and feeling a little more secure about the situation, glanced around to try and discover the whereabouts of some clean water.

There were a lot of rocks, he realized as he looked around. Which really that figured considering they were bordering dangerously close to the Mountains of Mirkwood and were, in fact, in a portion of the Emyn Duir. But with all these boulders piled up here and there this provided him with a chance to find a cool, fresh water supply that might have pooled in some crevice.

Glancing around, he decided upon which group of rocks he wanted to investigate first and began to walk towards it. He didn't truly expect to find anything the first time but luck, for the moment, was with him and he smiled with relief.

In a dip on one of the boulders crystal clear, cool water was brimming from the edges.

Unfortunately, finding the water was only half of the battle, and he snorted in disgust with himself as he realized he had nothing to boil it in. Inwardly slapping himself, as he knew he should have thought of this earlier, Aragorn tried to remember back on everything Elladan and Elrohir had taught him.

He couldn't think of anything for a moment but then he remembered many years ago to an argument. Not any argument, mind you, but one over leaves and if in fact they could boil water if everything was just right. Elladan had declared that had to be one of the most ridiculous things he had ever heard of and told Elrohir he had a wild imagination for someone of his age, but that however, he really shouldn't be surprised. Elrohir had claimed it did work and it wasn't his fault Elladan was too incompetent and small-minded to think of such a thing.

Neither of them had any evidence to back it up, of course, but they argued as though each of them had some concrete facts and could prove themselves correct beyond the shadow of a doubt. They might have actually tried too but Aragorn had voiced he didn't think Elrond would appreciate a fire being created in the middle of the breakfast table nor his potted plants being charred to a crisp, however noble the intentions.

Elladan and Elrohir had both scowled at each other the rest of the morning and refused to converse with one another if could be helped. And on the whole, that day went rather peacefully by.

Chuckling softly at the memories before he remembered the gravity of the situation, Aragorn began to look around for a good-sized and rather waxy leaf. He couldn't believe he was actually considering this but he didn't have anything else to go on and Legolas was desperately in need of some medical attention.

At least he was in Mirkwood and the selection of said leaves was extensive. He could find leaves of all types here and before long he found a large, maybe a foot long and six inch wide, thick, waxy leaf that looked nearly tropical in appearance but wasn't frilly and could hold water if it was turned into a strange little cup.

The human plucked two from the tree with a triumphant grin, and began back to the water source with his prize, casting a watchful glance at the concealing place of the Elf. It seemed to be so far undisturbed and so he turned his attention back to figuring out exactly how you went about creating a little cup out of a pair of leaves.

Overlapping them so that they crossed at the bottom and each edge overlapped about an inch, he folded them up and smiled, realizing that if he got the right kind of bond wound about them he could successfully bind them together and expect them to hold over the heat of a flame. Of course all the leaf that wasn't filled with water was going to burn away level with the liquid, but that just meant he would have to be extra careful when moving it.

Finding some long, thick and wet blades of grass, Aragorn bound the durable blades around and around the creative cup and was pleased when they seemed to hold it together with little difficulty. He couldn't help but beam with satisfaction as he realized he was going to vindicate Elrohir and had done this all by himself.

But he didn't want to push his luck by using a direct flame to heat the unique cup/bowl and before he collected water in it, the ranger looked for three separate stones. Two fist sized round ones and a long, thin flat one that would quickly get hot and transfer its heat. Thankfully, because of the strange abundance of rock in the area it didn't take long.

Going back to the miniature pool, rocks in his hands and the leaf-bowl carefully held, Aragorn set the stones aside and tipped the rim of the unconventional basin under the water. The clear liquid rushed to fill it and soon the bound pair of leaves had accumulated almost more than they could support. Satisfied, Aragorn lifted it gently form the water and held it in one hand, slightly amused by how the bottom spread out evenly, still holding the water so that it wouldn't tip over.

Tucking the flat stone under his arm, he managed to carry the two rounder rocks with his other hand alone.

Getting to the hidden refuge, the man wriggled in, holding the leaf cup out before him tossing the stones ahead so they landed with a soft thump against the dried grass. For a moment, Legolas stirred and Aragorn thought he had awakened the Elf and froze. But when Legolas didn't move again he went the rest of the way in and began to prepare everything to boil the Athelas.

Putting one of the rounder stones on either side of his smile pile of kindling, the man then set the flat, thin stone on top. It was worn smooth and he realized there must have been a stream going through here at one time, down from the mountains. Oh well, that wasn't important now.

Carefully, ever so carefully, he set the leaf-cup with its water on the rock and its bottom spread out from the water pressure so that it was balanced out and wouldn't roll away. Content, Aragorn took the flint and steal out of his pocket and began to strike towards the dried grass he had heaped into a small and secluded pile, eventually after three tries, setting off a sufficient spark and causing a small tongue of flame to lick at the dry material. It almost instantly went up in flames and began to heat the rock.

Aragon would have gone and gathered more wood but he didn't want to tempt fate a second time and anyway, he doubted the branches would be dry enough to be of any real use other than creating a room full of choking smoke.

The ranger continued to feed dried grass into the fire until the water held in the leaves on top of the rock began to seethe and hiss. Then, delving his hand deep into his pocket, he produced his meager amount of Athelas and tossed it into the bubbling mass of clear liquid. Instantly the room was filled with a sweet steam as the herb softened and its juices filled the water.

Stopping his feeding of the fire, Aragorn allowed the herb to steep for two minutes before he decided it was time to rouse the prince.

Crawling over to where the Elf lay, pale and looking a whole lot frailer than Aragorn last remembered, he whispered calmly, "Legolas, wake up." He wished he could keep the Elf asleep but he knew that he needed to get some fluids into him or the poison would be able to concentrate and he would die a miserable death.

The Elf drew a deep breath and his eyes drifted open, looking empty and tired. Aragorn frowned as the Elf gagged and spluttered as the steam entered his lungs and seemed to stick in them. This shouldn't be happening, it should be helping to ease his breathing. "Estel," Legolas wheezed as he tried to suppress his coughs. "What is that herb…you are using?"

He couldn't understand and the situation was already frightening. He trusted Aragorn without question but something wasn't right here, however he was too dazed to put his finger on it.

A wracking cough shook him and he curled in on himself before the human could answer. He just couldn't understand, it smelled like Athelas but it certainly didn't appear to have any healing properties. If anything it was making things worse and he could feel his body starting to shut down. Shutting his eyes tightly, Legolas felt a sickening sensation as the pain in his body, particularly in his chest, redoubled and his muscles began to convulse involuntarily.

His wheezing and shallow breathing soon turned into a fit of coughing and gasping. It was like being suffocated but by your body's own reaction, Legolas tried to stay aware as he struggled to breath through what felt like a pinhole.

Aragorn didn't know what to do, but then Legolas' fear and near hysteria heightened as he saw where they were. Panic seized him and he gasped, "you—t-t-took u…us to a….c-cave!"

His accusation bit Aragorn deeply and he felt tears stinging his eyes.

"Legolas, I had no other option!" he plead for his friend's understanding.

Understanding that he had done far more harm than good with just the simple fumes of the Althelas plant, Aragorn quickly removed the 'cup' and threw the contents into the dirt. However costly or rare the leaves were right now, he couldn't afford to keep them and ground them into the soil. The Athelas was some sort of catalyst if he remembered much of anything of the signs his father had taught him and Aragorn prayed that he didn't just kill his best friend with his mistake.

Legolas hissed through teeth clenched in pain, "I t-tru…trusted you!" He knew the Athelas hadn't been done on purpose, but Aragorn had brought him into this dratted cave after he knew his fears better than almost anyone. Unfortunately, this one incident had shaken what was left of his trust that had been cashed in men and he withdrew, still shuddering and coughing as Aragorn touched him to try and help him breathe.

Heart stinging as he saw tears wetting the Elf eyes and one leaving a trail down his cheek Aragorn wondered if his heart had just stopped beating. "D-d-don't t-t-t-touch…me!" Legolas commanded as his heart seemed to break and a shattering feeling erupted in his chest. It was no wonder Aragorn had wanted him to close his eyes! Didn't the human value their friendship enough that he didn't have to lie like that! Didn't he understand how tenuous things had been since Farlost?

It seemed that the Elf and ranger had broken each other's hearts.

Not having the strength to pull away further, he only lay on the ground and did his best to concentrate on his breathing. Aragorn watched for a moment before he went and sat by the Elf's side, afraid to touch Legolas and yet knowing that he had to get the Elf outside so that he could get some fresh air and some water.

The Elf's blue eyes went wide and his face seemed to change rapidly to a green color. Guessing everything ahead of time, Aragorn pulled Legolas' hair back and held it as he prince retched up some of the venom. Everything seemed to calm down for a minute and the Elf's chest was heaving. The prince was saturated with sweat and his cheeks told how his temperature was rising.

Suddenly, Legolas jerked and vomited a second time, causing Aragorn's face to screw up in disgust. But a second time wasn't enough, nor a third or a fourth and Legolas continued to expel all the liquids from his body through sweat and retching.

Finally, Aragorn was sure that he was finished with his vomiting and let his hair lose, cringing as he expected the Elf to reject him or worse, be afraid of him. But Legolas had exhausted himself completely and sprawled out unceremoniously on the dirt, trembling as his breathing became dangerously shallow. The Athelas still hung in the air and Aragorn knew if he didn't get Legolas out then he would die, suffocated by the catalyst.

Ignoring Legolas' attempts to protest, as the Elf weakly struggled at his touch, Aragorn began to carry Legolas towards the entrance. He was nearly there when there was a low growl and a furry as well as bristling head thrust through the mouth of the tunnel. Lips curled up in a snarl, the young warg growled threateningly and there were sounds of two more behind it.

The younger wargs had found them, having never forgotten Aragorn's scent and now they were going to vindicate their mother and have a little fun in the process.

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To say he was furious would be an understatement. As a matter of fact, to say his blood pressure was low and not in danger of causing him to have a stroke would be a lie as well.

How Legolas had done it he wasn't sure, but Lostiâ had to admit, it was remarkable. But remarkable as it was, it was also highly unacceptable, he seethed mentally as he sat by Voronwë, who was resting on top of his cloak comfortably near the fire. The younger Elf's eyes were closed and he was pale but his chest was rising in the way of a peaceful sleeper.

That was another thing that had absolutely irked him. Rána was going to pay for this attempt on his son's life with his own, Lostiâ was sure of that. Clenching his hands, he watched as his son slept, anger mounting as he remembered Voronwë's banishment and how he had been made an outcast. He supposed the banishment had been Rána's fault as well.

The dark-haired warrior would spill out the entire story before he was finished with him. That traitor was going to be begging for mercy before he killed him and that was a promise.

He remembered how Voronwë had cried out once as he cleansed the wound with an herb akin to Athelas. His child's cry of pain had made him see red for a minute as he realized he had put all his trust in Rána at one point and this was how he was repaid! He had also found scars on the younger Elf's chest from different things his son had gone through alone at the hands of others during his exile.

But his heart wasn't cooled as he also recalled the footprints he had found with Legolas' faltering ones that were soon made into one pair, during the time the Elf had been carried. They were made by boots and had sunk deeper in the dirt than any Elf's would have. That meddling human had been here! Men! They honestly annoyed him to no end and this one had garnered his unconditional hate, stealing the key to his revenge and wrecking half of his plans.

Well, that was fine, he would hunt down the human, capture him for later, and then, he would get Legolas back and they could pick up from there. But he wasn't going to hunt down the human until he was sure he had everything settled here. There were a few things he had to do first, like rip Rána's throat out for starters.

Voronwë stirred and Lostiâ felt his eyes on him, staring at him. Looking down he said softly, "You should be sleeping." He straightened out a part of the cloak that had been messed up as Voronwë had turned in his sleep.

Voronwë shook his head slightly in refusal. "Ada, please don't be this way," he plead as he felt his heart breaking. He loved his father dearly but he could be turned against him if he tried to kill Legolas, his favorite older cousin and friend.

"Voronwë, what do you mean?" he asked warily, curiously wondering whether his son knew of the events that had been taking place. Well, he thought nearly proudly, Voronwë had always been rather intelligent so he wouldn't be overly surprised.

"Please don't kill Legolas, father," he whispered, his face going white as he became afraid of the reaction his words would garner. "He is like a brother to me."

Lostiâ's face darkened and scrunching up in pure disgust and surprise. "You love him as a brother?" Jumping up he nearly screamed, "Are you insane, Voronwë? He killed your mother! He killed his own mother, my sister!"

Voronwë cringed and closed his eyes shortly. Upon opening them again he gulped and replied. "Ada, I don't expect you to understand or to escape this darkness immediately. But please, for Valar's sake could you try? I know you have always loved me and you say you care, but if ever you have loved me don't kill Legolas," he finished tiredly as his words and courage wore him out since almost all of his energy was devoted to healing.

Lostiâ's face went red and he growled, "I really didn't think you were this stupid! This deceived!" It was easy to believe that if Voronwë were not his son he would have killed him for his words. "That whelp needs to die and I am going to kill him! Now I am warning you: son or not, do NOT get in my way." His eyes were burning with a fierce as well as bitter fire that Voronwë knew meant he was completely serious and he would do exactly as he promised.

"Please," the fair-haired Elf implored again. "Hear me, father. I want to trust you and be close to you but I cannot if you are going to continue on with this brutality! I was there! Do you forget? The orcs did it, no one else! It was a horrible accident but he has blamed himself again and again! He would never wittingly do such a thing!"

Lostiâ was ready to lose it and Voronwë knew he was very lucky he was still breathing and his heart was still beating.

"Damn it all, Voronwë! Even if he didn't do it on purpose he still did it! He was foolish enough to allow it to happen! Blessed Eru, can you not see?" Lostiâ finished; not wanting to discuss this further for fear he would do something he would regret.

'Can you not see, father?' Voronwë asked in his head as he felt his heart break. He had once been so close to his father but now he felt like a prisoner here. Lostiâ wasn't who he used to be! He was so much more than what he had let himself become! How had everything come to this when it had happened so long ago? Broken up deep inside, Voronwë closed his eyes and tried to fall back into a deep sleep so his father wouldn't see the tears he would cry in his dreams.

Before he finally was succumbed by sleep, he promised he wouldn't be like his father. He wouldn't make the same mistakes Lostiâ had and let a calloused heart cause him so much misery. His father had fallen so hard and now he had learned the hard way to never let it get that far.

Falling into a deep and depressed sleep, Voronwë missed the events that suddenly transpired around him.

Arandur entered first, announcing their return and stepping to the side of the cave mouth so that Thranduil could enter, followed by Elrond with the four other Elves and Rána trailing at their heels, keeping the rear guard.

Lostiâ didn't even notice that Elrond had come along as well and in fact, he actually ignored Thranduil completely too. He had angry eyes only for Rána right now and as the Elf came up to try and give an explanation as to why Elrond was here with Thranduil, he silenced him with a raised hand. "Rána, so tell me, why did you do it?"

Thinking he was referring to the bringing of Thranduil and Elrond Voronwë gaped a minute and then replied in a stammer, "Well because you commanded it, my lord…" his voice trailed off as his eyes fell upon the still form of Voronwë sleeping, a bandage already showing signs of fresh bleeding swathed around his chest. Mouth forming a nearly perfect 'o', Rána faltered fearfully as he spoke, "w-w-what do you mean?"

Lostiâ stepped forward, grabbing Rána's tunic and throwing him to the side. "What I mean, is rather obvious isn't it?" He stepped forward again, shoving the dark-haired warrior a step back.

Rána swallowed audibly, casting an anxious glance at everyone in the room before he gave a weak smile. "Lostiâ, this isn't funny…" he began but stopped when his friend didn't crack even a half smile.

"No," he said all too calmly. "It's not." Ire still gathering in his chest, his already sinister glare intensified as he bit out in a baneful voice, "Why did you do it?"

Rána pretended to be confused and clueless but Lostiâ's meaning was all too clear and he was certain now that he had only moments left to live. Gulping in terror as Lostiâ decided to continue his questioning with the dark-haired warrior pressed up against the wall, his fist grinding purposefully into the wound, causing no small amounts of pain, Rána tried to squirm away. Lostiâ just dug in further, effectively pinning his former friend to the stone wall of the cave.

"Now, Rána, while you are just standing there, answer me. Why did you do it?" he asked, so close to the other Elf that Rána could feel his breath on his cheeks. Giving Rána a strong shake, he seethed again, "answer me!"

At this Thranduil felt he must intervene and his commanding voice drew all present out of their personal qualms and misgivings. "Sweet Eru! What are you talking about Lostiâ and where is my son?" He had come here to get his son back and the fact that he still hadn't seen him since his disappearance and had no idea about his health was making him feel sick.

A cold feeling spread in Elrond's stomach and he found it was impossible to squelch it. Where was Estel? He had a feeling that somehow, Aragorn had been able to get Legolas away from here and now had called the unconditional fury of Lostiâ upon his head.

"Oh, this, Thranduil, is rather simple," he explained, still holding Rána roughly against the wall. "Rána made an attempt on my son's life. Oh yes, did you realize he had returned since your cruel banishment has now expired? But when one attempts to take another's life he must present appropriate reasons." He wasn't ready to explain about Legolas' convenient disappearance just yet.

Thranduil puckered his brow as his face went black with anger and confusion. Staring across the cave he saw Voronwë's lithe figure and to avoid stirring his emotions, turned his face away. Placing his attention back with Rána and Lostiâ's struggle, he watched intently as he desired an answer himself.

Lostiâ finally managed, through the infliction of pain at the grinding of Rána's wound to get an answer, though it was vague.

"He knew too much," Rána gasped, praying Lostiâ would relent of this interrogation soon.

Another twist of his fist in the trapped Elf's injury and Lostiâ demanded harshly, "too much about what?" His patience, which he knew had finally exceeded its limits earlier, was completely used up.

Rána grit his teeth, jerking and his words tumbled out on each other, "about Malneldor-" his answer was cut off by an abrupt cry of pain and his hands clasped over Lostiâ's in a plead for mercy, trying to loosen the other's passionate grip.

"What about Malneldor?" he spat, ignoring Rána's shaking hands without even trying.

"His death-"

"Stop playing word games and tell me everything immediately!"Lostiâ finally could contain himself no longer and screamed at the already quaking Elf.

"I killed him…I killed Malneldor!" Rána admitted, feeling his knees folding as he new it was over for him now and in a few minutes he would have to plead mercy before Mandos. "He was going to turn traitor to our cause," he explained, glancing over at Thranduil and Elrond quickly, trying to gauge their reactions. "He was going to tell-"

"And you had my son framed?" he growled as he finally was beginning to understand everything to the smallest detail. He had known that Voronwë could never commit such an atrocity as the needless murder of a family friend and was angered with himself that he had ever doubted his own son.

When Rána didn't answer, Lostiâ slammed him up against the wall with such force that the dark-haired warrior cried out shortly. "Didn't you?"

"Yes, I did," he confessed in a low and frightened voice. "I was afraid-"

"And you made him suffer!" Lostiâ interrupted, drawing gout his long knife and placing it under Rána's chin pressing it in slightly so he drew some blood. "I am going to kill you," he whispered into the other Elf's paled face and wide eyes. "And long may Mandos hold you."

"No! Hand him over to the court!" Thranduil tried to stop the slaying of Rána, though it wasn't because he cared for the Elf in anyway but he knew that justice was justice and his personal qualms must not interfere. He could never condone this even if he absolutely hated Rána, which he did not. "Please, don't-"

But his pleading was in vain and blood spurted from the dark-haired Elf's throat as his face went whiter than a sheet as the blood left his body. As he felt life leaving him and closed his eyes, crumpling forwards only to be held against the wall by his killer, the last thing Rána saw were the coldest and most merciless pair of eyes.

"You didn't have to do that," Thranduil murmured quietly as he watched life speed from Rána's body and nearly saw his spirit visibly rise and rush away.

"Yes, I did. And that brings us to something else," he snarled rabidly, flashing a set of furious eyes upon Elrond. "That meddling little human of yours managed to get Legolas away. Not that it matters," he added. "My dear nephew will die anyway, by your little Edan's hand. Legolas has ingested a deadly poison, though it can only be truly deadly if it comes in contact with Athelas, its catalyst."

Corrupted amusement danced across his face as he watched the color fade form Thranduil's face and Elrond blanched noticeably. At least right now he was having a bit of fun though he was still angry enough to slay everyone present.

TBC….Well, not so much of an evil cliffy here. We had to post this early because we will be busy later, but we are sure that you didn't mind. LOL Please review! Thank you so much for all the reviews for the previous chapter! They were much appreciated!

oh...Has anyone else had problems with seeing the 'hits' for their stories on their stats? It doesn't appear to be working…:o( Oh-well, we aren't really surprised…

One more note, for all of you who enjoyed "Masquerade" or those simply curious, there is a picture for the sequel (coming out in December), called "The Edge of the World", on our site under the option 'previews'. The preview will be posted soon as well.