Chapter Seventeen – Never Saw That Coming
Laure dropped her pack by the front door and dusted off her hands. "You boys ready yet? It's time to get on the road." Her smile was wide and content while she waited a moment for the twins to finish gathering their scattered belongings from around the house. Soon they joined her at the door and filed out.
Solitude was just waking as the trio walked through the city toward the front gate. Merchants chatted as they set up their stalls for the day, gossiping over breakfast rolls and tea. The vendors all swiveled their eyes to the three Companions, hoping to maybe make an early morning first sale to start the day out.
Farkas veered over to one stall and purchased a few bottles of spiced wine, tucking them carefully into his pack. He turned about again to face his brother and Laure, only to find them giving him the look. "What? I'm not drinking it now; it's for later. Had some the other night and it's quite tasty."
Vilkas shook his head and pointed to the gate with one finger. "If you're done?"
"Sure," he shrugged and shouldered his pack once more. "So what comes next?"
"We're headed back to Whiterun," Laure replied. "Beyond that, we're mostly just killing time until the Archmage of the college sends word. She said it might be a while before they are able to come up with the information we need, which is fine; we have an impossible amount of jobs needing to be done, so perhaps we can catch up a bit before the next stage." She was looking forward to getting back home, so the daunting number of jobs facing them didn't bother her that much.
As they were striding through the gates, one of the guards saluted, crying out, "Hail, Compani- is that fur, growing out of your ears?" The trio scoffed and continued walking, but surreptitiously checked each other.
"I hate it when they do that," grumbled Laure after they were all clear. Last night they had all three gone out and let the wolves run for a while, and there was always a chance that they might have a tuft of hair clinging to them that they missed. It wasn't really a big issue. The guards in Whiterun were always cracking jokes about the howling coming from Jorrvaskr or asking if she smelled wet dog. It was a nuisance more than a threat, but the mere thought of the province knowing the Circle was bound to Hircine set their teeth on edge.
They hastened down the hill and saddled the horses quickly. If they pushed their mounts and didn't run into trouble, they could be back in Whiterun by tomorrow evening. Ready to return to their shield-siblings and the mead hall, they cantered down the road, headed for Dragon Bridge.
Three days later, Laure slithered off Roast, nearly collapsing when her feet touched the ground. Her armor was scorched black, the leather dried and flaking. She leaned her forehead on her mount's flank, stroking the mare affectionately.
"After that ride, I promise I won't eat you when you die. Come on girl, let's get you unloaded and cleaned up, eh?" Roast flicked an ear and bobbed her head, following Laure into the stables. Throwing the tack and saddlebags to the side, the tall mer led her horse outside to walk her a few minutes, check for limps or hitches she hadn't noticed on her Void-cursed journey here. Two days, with three dragons fought in that time frame was surely a record for her and the twins.
She was bent over, checking hooves for cracks and cleaning them out when the twins finally walked up, leading their mounts. She finished her job while the boys unloaded, then she went to help.
"Remind me what we're going to do with all of this?" Vilkas asked, his arms full of scraps of dragonhide. He eyed the remnants, collected from three different dragons, the last one having only been slain an hour prior, right outside the city walls.
Farkas wiped his hands together and answered, "I'm going to start collecting all the bits and pieces, see if I can make some armor out of it. And I was looking at the bones; I think I could even make some weapons from it with time." His eyes were bright, clearly he was looking forward to the project.
"That's fine; just remember that we need you working the whelps too. If we all take turns with the new-bloods, then everyone gets a chance to go out and earn some coin for themselves and pursue other projects."
"Sure thing. Here, let me help with that." Together they finished the lengthy process of unloading, unsaddling, walking, drying, combing, feeding and overall care of the horses. After surviving all that they had, the three horses deserved some extra care.
Laure pushed her self up and began gathering the heavy sacks of dragon bone and scale. Vilkas stopped her, "We'll send someone down with a cart. Killing them was enough, and you're about to drop, I can tell." She nodded and set the sacks down, keeping only her travel bag and bedroll, then turned to march up the hill. Grimacing, she could feel cold sweat pouring down her face and neck, making her armor chafe even more than usual.
As usual, the twins were her armored shadows, flanking, protecting. In town, the city was the same, if a little edgier than normal. All the guards had been equipped with bows, and there were more of them on the walls than they could remember seeing in a long time. Barrels of water had been stockpiled at various locations around the city, and they all noticed that the children who usually ran the streets were no where to be seen.
Lydia was talking to a few merchants, fully armored, her greatsword strapped to her back. When the housecarl saw her thane, a look of relief washed over her face and she excused herself from Olfina and Carlotta. "That was quite a fight! I'm glad you're all alive! Everyone in one piece?"
"More or less," gritted Laure who was exhausted and having a hard time focusing; her head was pounding so badly she could barely see. Vilkas and Farkas followed a short distance behind as she climbed the steps to Jorrvaskr, then turned left, began heading up to the Skyforge.
"Laurelin, where are you going?" called Vilkas, catching her hand.
"Up to the Skyforge to make a salad for the . . . wait word it? Osh . . . Vilkas home, m'not feeling so well." Suddenly her eyes rolled back in her head and she tipped over backward. Vilkas caught her as she fell and cradled her limp body to his chest.
He stormed down the steps, heard Farkas calling out, "Where are you taking her?"
"To the temple, I knew that last dragon hit her harder than she would admit."
Farkas dashed ahead and pushed the doors to the Temple of Kynareth open, anxiously waving for Danica. Vilkas sidled through with Laure and met the wide-eyed priestess, who took one look at the mer and ushered them to a private room. Farkas closed the door and leaned on it while Vilkas laid her on the bed and Danica began checking for a pulse, lifting both eyelids as soon as he stepped away.
"I heard you three fought that dragon a while ago. Was she injured?"
"Aye, it slapped her with its tail and she was flung into the wall," Vilkas told her. "She said she was fine and jumped right back into battle so I believed her. That was a few hours ago now, but that was also the third dragon we've fought in two days. I just thought she was tired after that last one and needed rest. Then she said a strange thing and passed out. Do you know what salad is?"
Danica shook her head, "No. Perhaps it is something they eat in Valenwood."
Vilkas shrugged, wrote her babble off to her exhaustion and delirium. He watched the priestess carefully roll his love over and probe her head with gentle fingers while she spoke.
"Ah, here we are. Feels nasty, but I should be able to heal this." She sat up and eyed the two men. "I'll want to keep her here overnight. One of you may stay at a time; no other visitors for now. Will one of you help me get her armor off?"
"I'll go make sure our stuff gets taken care of; you stay and help with Laure, brother," offered Farkas, and then the big man backed out of the narrow room. Vilkas turned to help Danica with the many buckles and straps of the wolf armor the unconscious mer wore. Danica looked down at the cuirass in her hands and noted a curved line of large perforations in the thick steel.
"Are these? These are teeth marks!" she gasped in horror, her gaze flitting to her patient.
"Aye, the second one we fought managed to get a good bite on her. Fortunately, the dragon wasn't very big or powerful. The only reason that one gave us trouble was because the first one we fought was big and powerful. We were already wounded and short on healing supplies as it was when the second one showed up." He didn't need to say that by the time they got to Whiterun and saw a third dragon attacking the Whitewatch Tower, they were completely out of potions and relying solely on Laure's magic. Vilkas gave a frustrated growl as he tried to ease her out of the armor padding and her wolf fur underskirt, but he couldn't do it; so he carefully cut the sweaty, bloodstained, and singed padding off her body and stripped it away. "She was able to heal most of it herself, but we needed to stitch up a few of the worst ones."
Danica prayed softly to her goddess, hands lifted as she begged the divine to help her heal the wounded woman in front of her. Soon her hands were lit with a warm, golden light; and the priestess gently laid them on Laurelin, starting with the head wound, spending the most time on that before moving down her body, lingering over each livid injury she found. When Danica turned the elf on her side, Vilkas sucked in his breath. Her armor had protected her a great deal, but her backside was a weeping mass of bruises and burns. His hands shook when he realized she must have been in excruciating pain for hours and never uttered a complaint. He wished she had complained so he could have brought her up to the temple sooner than he had.
"There, she should sleep for a short time. I will go find something for her to wear and bring some broth. If she wakes before I get back, don't be alarmed if she vomits right away. It's quite common with head wounds, some sort of delayed reaction. Here is a bucket, water, and a cup. I will return soon." She ducked out of the room, and Vilkas picked up a rag and dampened it, gently cleaning some of the dried blood, ash, and grime from her pale form.
The cool rag seemed to bring her to, or maybe it was the soft words he spoke while he bathed her face, but her eyes slowly opened and focused on his face.
"Vilkas? Where am-ohh!" Her mouth clamped shut and she rolled to the side. Vilkas pushed the bucket under her chin to contain the mess and thoughtfully held her hair out of the way. "Nice catch," she observed dryly, wiping her chin and mouth with a moist scrap of linen he handed her when she was finished.
"It's what I'm here for: slay dragons, carry your shit, catch the puke. How are you feeling?"
"Woozy. Are we in the temple?" Vilkas nodded and handed her a cup of water, then changed his mind and held it to her lips when he saw how shaky she was. She was just finishing her second cup when Danica returned.
"Good, your awake. I want you to stay here tonight. You took a terrible blow to the head, and I want to keep an eye on you until tomorrow at least." Laure was to weak to argue, so she nodded and didn't raise a fuss. "Vilkas, maybe you can help her get this night gown on, and then if she feels up to it, there is some warm broth. Drink it all if you can, Laurelin."
Together they got her bathed and dressed, and she was able to sip the broth with no complications. Vilkas sat nearby, reading while she drifted to sleep. Her eyes were unbelievably heavy, her limbs felt weighted down, and her head seemed nestled in the clouds.
"You know what, Vilkas? I think she drugged me," she mused.
"Well, I might have to drop a little something extra into the donation box. I would have done the same, Laurelin. You need rest." His eyes skimmed over the pages of the only book in the room, though he frequently lifted it so he could simply watch her breathe.
"I'm resting, don' you worry, love." She flapped her hand in his direction, then let it slump to her chest as she drifted off. Vilkas tugged the coverlet up higher and kissed her forehead, before settling nearby.
He had dozed off himself when a soft tap at the door roused him. Glancing over, he saw that Laurelin was still sleeping peacefully. "Come in," he called out softly. Danica peeped her head in.
"Your brother is here, says he'll sit with her so you can clean up and eat, get some rest."
Vilkas didn't want to leave her side, but he knew he needed to wash up and eat at the very least. He went to one knee by the edge of the bed and brushed her fingers with a gentle kiss. When Farkas entered the room, his gaze dropped to where she lay quietly. His brow wrinkled with worry.
"She's just sleeping. Danica gave her a sleeping potion. She'll be fine," reassured Vilkas. "I'll be back shortly."
"No hurry. Clean up right, you stink."
Vilkas hurried from the temple and up to Jorrvaskr eager to get out of his armor. Farkas sank down into the chair his brother had so recently occupied, the wood creaking in protest as he pulled in closer. The book his brother had been reading caught his eye, so he picked it up, idly scanning the text, but mostly, his attention was given over to his best friend and listening to her soft breath.
Vilkas stepped into the temple several hours later, having bathed, eaten, and taken a short nap. Inside, the main room was hushed, though the occasional groan from a particularly afflicted patient broke the silence. Danica was quietly tending a sick man but finished swiftly and came over to confer with Vilkas.
"She still sleeps, which is good. She should wake soon though, and I will examine her after that to determine any further measures we might need to take. I forgot to ask in all the excitement earlier, but were you or your brother injured?"
"Nay, our wounds were slight, and she always heals us first. If we try to refuse, she just does it anyway. She even insists on healing the damn horses."
"What would happen if she were to be struck down and couldn't heal herself and you found yourself out of potions? She could have been much more gravely injured out there than she was. You were all lucky you were so close to the temple after the battle."
Vilkas had never thought of that. They tended to stockpile the foul-tasting concoctions, and it was rare to run out as they had. Of course, it was also rare to fight three dragons in two days.
"What are you suggesting?"
"If you and your brother are going to run around the province protecting the Dragonborn, it might be wise to think about learning a bit of healing magic. Don't scowl at me, young man. You love that woman in there, am I right?" Vilkas nodded, though his frown remained in place. "I'm not saying you should trade in your armor for robes, but surely it can't hurt to know how to heal. Or at least, convince her to wear a helm?" She said the last gently, softening her earlier sharpness with a kind smile.
"Aye, I'll think about it." The mere thought of learning magic made his skin crawl and itch. Suddenly grumpy, he excused himself and listened at the door, heard the pages of a book being turned and soft breathing. Letting himself in, he found his brother with an open book in his lap, her hand in his, while the other flipped pages one by one. She looked peaceful, comfortably curled up on her side, hand extended to hold Farkas'.
He looked up from the book. "This was a weird book. Never read that one before. Danica's right you know; it wouldn't hurt to learn a little restoration magic. It could save the life of someone we care about sometime. I'll do it if you do." He closed the book and set it back on the dresser then stood up after gently freeing his fingers of her grasp. "I'm heading up to bed if you need anything. And think about it." He clapped his brother on the shoulder and left quietly.
Vilkas sat down and picked the book up again, quickly reading it cover to cover. Farkas was right, he decided. Withershins was a strange book. Amusing, but kind of a strange book to find in the temple. Laure shifted a few times, cursing and trying to claw herself out of the nightgown temporarily. He was able to calm her and ease her back in the bed, but he suspected the sleeping potion was wearing off.
He found his thoughts returning over and again to Danica's suggestion. He loved Laurelin and his brother, but– but it's magic. Unnatural, cheap, makes the skin crawl. Then he thought of the countless times she had stood there bleeding while she used her healing abilities to keep him or any number of people alive. When she healed, she never looked angry. She looked peaceful and full of light. Sure light. The tell-tale glow of magic. No, not just magic. It was something else. She had told him one day, "I want to heal you because I love you. It pains me to see you suffer when I can help." There was nothing evil about healing magic. It was the other magics that truly bothered him when he really thought on it. Magics to deceive, to destroy . . .
"But to heal is to love, and love heals," he murmured to himself. Listen to me, circling about like Heimskr on a roll about Talos.
"What was that, love? Did you say something?"
"You're awake! How do you feel?" He carefully felt her forehead, pleased to find it dry and cool.
"My head hurts still, but not so bad anymore. Is there water?" Vilkas helped her sip down some fluids, then made her lie back while he fetched Danica.
The priestess examined Laure carefully and seemed pleased. "Very good, it seems most of the damage has been repaired. I would like to treat you once more though, to be sure." Laure laid back and accepted the healing without complaint. "Rest now, and if all still seems well in the morning, you can go home and rest a few more days."
"Can Vilkas sleep on the bed with me? It will help me rest," she yawned widely, eyes already closing.
"I see no harm in that. But only if you sleep. No fooling around right now." She gave them both a warning stare before withdrawing.
"Fine with me," she agreed. Vilkas scooted close and curved his lean body around hers, more than ready to sleep a few hours with his beloved. He tried to, but the narrow bed felt too soft and it was pointed in the wrong direction. Finally, after her breathing even out and he knew she slept, he carefully slipped out of bed and out the door.
Danica was still moving about. "You must never rest. Are you not exhausted?" he asked in a quiet voice.
"I could ask you the same. Does your blood keep you awake as it does others?"
"Pardon?"
"I've lived here a long time, Companion. Healed your wounds for years, tended countless injuries. I think I know the difference between sword wound and claw marks. And I speak to my mistress daily. Her wisdom fills me and grants me insights. How often do you commune with your lord, servant of Hircine?"
"Don't say that out loud again woman! Are you mad? I avoid any contact with that one . . . and someday soon we will cure ourselves; we've found one. Danica, please. If this gets leaked out. We already lost Kodlak. Who would be next?" Her gaze flickered over his shoulder to the room Laure slept in.
"I've kept my silence for years; that won't change. The Companions protect and do much good. You might be interested to know that Kynareth herself is watching over your lady love, but she can't protect her from everything. That's where you and your brother come in. For whatever reason, the goddess loves that mer and wants her to live a long, happy life. To that end, I suggest you look into learning more ways to keep her and yourself alive. Now, get some rest. We can speak on this later if you like."
"Goodnight, Danica. Thank you for your kind help and advice." Vilkas returned to the narrow bed, once more settling behind her, careful not to jostle any of her injuries. Sleep finally claimed him in spite of the turmoil of his thoughts.
* * *
Two days later, Laure was finally allowed out of bed. After days of enforced bed rest, she was eager to be up and about again. Stepping outside to get a breath of the cool air, she found her front steps littered with flowers, candles, incense, and even a battered rag doll that she recognized as being Mila Valentia's, one of the young girls in town.
"People have been dropping by with well wishes and offerings like this, as well as food stuffs, since yesterday," Vilkas remarked from behind her. "Lydia finally had Farkas clear everyone away so you could recover in peace."
"The three of you take good care of me." She leaned back into his arms and watched town bustle by, content to linger in the doorway and soak in the sunshine. "Why all the attention so suddenly? They all knew I fight dragons beforehand."
"Few had ever actually seen one, let alone felt the fear of one attacking so near the city. Many were there when we fought it and witnessed for themselves how fearless you are, saw the beating you took. People talk, and it wasn't long after you collapsed that word got out you had been injured quite badly and kept fighting, even curried your own damn horse after. They're eating it up right now."
"Ugh. Well, it's great to know that suffering head trauma in the line of duty makes the citizens love me. I'll keep that in mind; next time I want to get my head cracked like an egg, I'll make sure I have an audience. Where are Farkas and Lydia?"
"I made them both clear out earlier. House was getting a little crowded with both of them hovering. Are you hungry?"
"I'm starving! What do we have?"
"One of everything, I'm sure. Take a seat and we'll see what is here." Together they sampled the delicious offerings left by a grateful town. Lydia came back shortly after they were done eating, her arms laden with a covered basket and a platter of something wrapped in linen. The basket had a pair of succulent roasts swimming in gravy, a wheel of cheese, bottles of wine. The platter had an entire batch of sweetrolls.
"More gifts from people in town," the house-carl said with a smile.
Laure admired the sweetrolls with an amused grin. Lydia helped herself to one of the iced confections and wandered upstairs with a nod. Vilkas finally scooped up one of the pastries and indulged himself with a satisfied sigh.
"I don't see you eat many sweets."
"I don't very often. But when they're fresh like that-a Nord hasn't been born that can resist a freshly baked sweetroll."
"Eat the whole tray. Divines know I won't, and you could use a little meat on your skinny bones."
"Who's calling who skinny?" he asked as he licked the icing from his fingers.
"I'm supposed to be this way," she retorted, moving toward the front door.
"Where are you going?"
"I want to take a little walk; I've been cooped up so long. Isn't it almost sunset?"
"Danica doesn't want you going up long flights of stairs, but we could go up to the wall if you wanted."
"Aye, I would like that very much." Arm in arm they climbed up the stairs to the outer wall, settling down shoulder to shoulder. Together they sat and talked. While they talked the sun dropped lower, shadows grew longer, the colors became warmer, giving everything a rosy glow. Farkas found them just as the sun touched the dusky horizon and settled himself down on Laure's other side.
"So have you made up your mind, Vilkas?" Farkas asked finally.
"I'm still not sure. I suppose it would do no harm to look into it." He grimaced a little, dark brows knit together.
"I could teach you, love, and you too, Farkas. It would be no trouble, truly." Laure leaned her head on Vilkas' shoulder, still watching the brilliant sunset. Over the last few days, while she had been convalescing, they had discussed it at length, but not come to any conclusions. She had admitted it would take a huge weight off her shoulders and mind to know the group had more capable healers than just herself. However, she wasn't going to pressure either of the men into something they were extremely uncomfortable with.
Farkas seemed to have already made up his mind. "If I can learn it, I will. I know how to give wounds, might as well learn how to fix 'em."
"That's what I like to hear. I find men who are willing to expand their horizons extremely sexy." She leaned over and nuzzled his ear, nipped it playfully.
"Vilkas told me Danica doesn't want you fooling around for a few more days. Don't go playing with fire." He was smiling none-the-less, and returned her affectionate gesture.
"I know, you're just so sweet I couldn't keep my lips off. What's a mer to do?"
"I dunno. You're insatiable." Vilkas, who was still looking straight ahead, nodded with a huge grin.
"Oh, great word! You know I wasn't this bad before I took the blood."
"Yeah you were."
"Not even remotely. I could go for months without a man-"
"Must never have had one before then. Least not a real man-"
"So you were the first man I had! My children will be so thrilled to know I was a virgin until last year!"
"Both of you are ridiculous," observed Vilkas mildly.
"You're just jealous I was her first real man," jested the big man.
"No fooling you brother, I can tell. That's just what I was thinking." Still smiling they all leaned back, enjoying the final bright streaks of light that appeared to beam straight into their eyes and mind. The light faded swiftly after that, and they all laid back, legs dangling over the wall, hands under heads to watch the stars come out.
"I'll do it," Vilkas finally said, breaking the easy silence that had fallen over the three of them. "I can't say I'll have any talent for it, but I'll try." Laure rolled over and covered his face with kisses, lingering on his full lips for several moments.
"I can teach you what I know, or if it will make you more comfortable, we could go to one of the temples perhaps. I even have some books you might be able to use."
"I knew there had to be a catch," complained Farkas, but Laure could tell it wasn't a heartfelt sentiment. "You know I don't read as well as you and Vilkas, Laure."
"I can help with that too if you like. No pressure; I know you can read already. It just takes practice, like blade-work. If you want, we can read together after dinner or work. Or in the morning would be best, when you're nice and rested." They all snorted a little at that. It was always a relative state of being when the beast blood often made them restless rather than rested.
Farkas shrugged, "Sure, we can do that. It'd would be nice to understand what you and my brother are talking about sometimes. It must not be boring if you know enough about it."
Laure laughed heartily, shaking her head. "No, it's probably still boring. At least in comparison to fighting for your life with blade and shield-siblings at your back. Still, there is something to be said about the beauty of the written word. To read a story is to experience a stranger's dreams and fears. It's a powerful thing."
"And then there are those tawdry little tales written to entertain bored women with romantic flights of fancy," Vilkas added, making her collapse into giggles once more.
"There are those too. Well, shall we head back inside? It's getting chilly."
Farkas helped her up and held her hand while she went down the stairs, which left Laure a little miffed. However, she knew they were following Danica's instructions and trying to make sure that should she suffer a dizzy spell, one of them would be nearby to catch her.
Still, she didn't like being treated as if she couldn't handle a few flights of stairs and a short walk down the road. She appreciated the care they showed her, but she was eager to be given a clean bill of health so she could get on with the enormous list of things that needed to be done.
For supper they reheated leftovers. It was after they had sated the worst of their hunger and were pushing scraps around on nearly empty plates when Farkas asked a question that had been milling around in his mind.
"Laure, are you really going to fight the World Eater?"
"It's looking more and more as if I will at some point need to face him, aye. What will come of that meeting, I can't even begin to say. Why?"
"I want to fight him with you. I'm going to use all my spare time with Eorland–we're planning to piece together armor for at least you, me and Vilkas. We've already started on yours."
"Farkas I would love to have you at my side when I confront Alduin, but I can't predict when or where that will happen."
"Well at least one of the two of us will be with you at all times when you leave the city. That way you always have a shield-brother in case trouble finds you."
"Which it does with alarming frequency," put in Vilkas quietly.
"You'll hear no arguments from me. I know all too well how often trouble jumps me from behind." Together they cleaned up the plates, and when the boys settled in front of the fire, she went upstairs and rummaged through her chest, coming back down a few moments later with an armful of books. "These are some good books to start with if you're really going to study restoration magic. I was able to learn quite a bit from them, even if they are a bit on the dry side."
Vilkas accepted the tomes and flipped open the top one, eyes already reading with interest. Farkas looked askance at the little stack on Vilkas' lap and turned his troubled gaze to Laure.
"Don't worry, we'll help if you need it."
"Yeah, but what if I can't? I want to be able to help out, but what if I'm not smart enough?"
"Farkas you're plenty smart enough. Don't doubt yourself before you even try. Confidence is important."
"If you say so–would you read with me, though?"
"Absolutely. We can start tonight if you like."
"Sure, what's your favorite book? Let's read that one."
"I don't have a copy of that book here. But I have one here I always enjoyed, it's called The Black Arrow; you might like it." She and Farkas settled on the floor near the fire and opened the book to the front page.
Halting at first, then smoother, Farkas read aloud, "'I was young when the Duchess of Woda hired me as an assistant footman. . . .'"
Greetings again lovely readers! I apologize for the long silence, but I have not forgotten about you! Thanks for the reviews and comments!
~Mia, that last chapter was a tough one, and I feel I could probably go back and rework it many times over, but time and such prevent me from doing so-that and wanting to get on with the story! You're correct, Vilkas is her mate, her partner, and she adores him with every fiber of her being.
~Gaara's Plaything- Thank you for joining and reading, I hope you continue to enjoy and read! Cheers!