Tolkien Fan Fiction Home Tolkien Fan FictionAll the tales of the Valar and the Elves are so knit together that one may scarce expound any one without needing to set forth the whole of their great history.
Tree and Stone
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
  Post A Review  Printer Friendly  Help

[Prev][Index][Next]

35
Certainty

Dalf:

Silma and I talked long beside the lake, and I apologized for my drunken proposal, gathered my courage, and asked for her hand again.

And she said yes!

I made sure that she knew I was willing to wait until the end of her mourning period for Jehan Clerk, but she answered that she did not think he would object, although his family would, yet she cared not after the way they had treated both him and her. Clearly she worried how my family and people would react, but I told her staunchly that I cared not. Nor do I!

Gathering her own courage, she warned me honestly that she doubted we could have children, since she had had no successful births with either spouse and would be counted old to bear in her culture. I knew that she was speaking as a Mannish woman, so I pointed out that according to Elvish reckoning, she was not too old for childbearing (1). I am not marrying her only for children, although that would be a great blessing. I did not say what I believe after my vision in that place, which is that we would have children, and at least one daughter(2); why make her anxious? I wished her to become accustomed to the idea of wedding me, not fret more than she need.

And we were betrothed! I took from my pouch the small betrothal-gift I had made, and gave it to her: a hair clasp in the shape of one of the flowers that had been my first gift to her, whose perfume we inhaled in that place.

Long we talked privately, and when at last we became aware of our surroundings again, early dawn streaked the skies. “Come,” I said. “Let us go back and break our fast before our friends worry where we are.”

“The sentries will have told them,” she said. “You need not think that I intend to wait another day to see my home! Oh, Dalf, may we live here part of the time, do you think?”

“Aye,” I answered. “How often, and how long each year, we shall have to plan out, for both of us have work to do. But we shall have long to make our plans.”

“You do not intend I should be only your wife?” she asked, and giggled. “That didn’t come out very well! Being your wife isn’t an ‘only’ sort of thing!”

“If you mean, do I wish you to spend all your time directing our households, I would imagine that you would be very bored very quickly!” I said. “That would be a waste of your talents, and you have other obligations which you must honour, as I do. It may seem at times as if we are trying to juggle new-cast metal in our bare hands, but we will find a way to balance it all.”

“I once saw two jugglers interchanging torches and knives. How exciting each day will be!” she said, and tugged on my hand. “Come, my Dwarf! Let us go within!”

I lit a candle I found on a small table inside the front door, and we quickly went through the rooms, just long enough to marvel at how clean they were (although I was certain she would have them swept and scrubbed again before long), and to point out to me which chambers had been those of her family, and which were public rooms, and which for storage. We found a ring of keys on the table; I had picked it up without thinking.

“Do you think that it has been here all this time?” she wondered.


Silma:

It was almost dawn when I insisted we go inside my–soon to be our—home, for at least part of the time. Dalf was certain that we could live there sometimes, reminding me that we each have work to do, but that we can plan it out. How wonderful! With my first spouse, I was given scant say, usually being told how things would be, and with poor Jehan, usually we had all too few choices.

Dalf lit a candle set where such tapers had ever been kept, and without our then thinking about it, picked up a ring of keys lying next to it. The rooms were remarkably clean, although I was certain that some dust must have filtered in over the decades, and I excitedly pointed out to him which rooms were which.

“Do you think that ring of keys has been here all this time?” I asked him. “I cannot imagine my parents or Granny leaving them there.”

“No doubt Mahal left them for us,” he said serenely. It made me uneasy, this notion that any of the Valar were so interested in us, but whether it was truth or jest, each key turned sweetly in the lock, and was clearly labeled. I knew that I must get out tapestries, curtains and bedding, and see to servants and foodstuffs….

But Dalf was intent upon our returning to camp to break our fast before our friends began to search for us, even though I was certain the sentries had observed us.

At the camp, we walked to the open space in front of Lord Captain Herenyand’s tent and found our friends gathered there, already eating. We observed the Standing Silence before accepting plates from Rhylla and Tamperion, setting them side by side at the trestle table.

Dalf took my hand in his. “I hope that you will share our joy, friends, when I tell you that Lady Silma has done me the honour of agreeing to become my wife,” he said.

“At last!” cried Rhylla, and everyone laughed. She ran to hug me, and we both laughed and wept for a moment, before the others crowded around to thump Dalf on the back, kiss my hand (Legolas kissed my cheek), and wish us well.

“Excellent news!” said Lord Captain Herenyand. “We shall have to have a feast tonight! I am glad that I brought some of that dry Dorwinion White with me.”

“Have you set a date yet?” Rhylla asked.

“Not yet,” I said. “Give me time to catch my breath! I had no idea I would be betrothed today! In fact, if you will excuse me, I will go dress properly for the day!”

Rhylla and I withdrew to my tent, as she peppered me with questions.

I hurriedly washed my face and hands and she helped me don a simple gown; I flatly refused to do more than let her brush my hair and braid it into one plait, coiled and fastened with his token, before we went back. I was ravenous, and loath to miss a moment in Dalf’s company.


Dalf:

I rejoiced in their congratulations, although I thought I observed a shadow on Master Tuor’s face for an instant, and some of the soldiers looked taken aback. But my lady’s joy was not to be overshadowed, and suddenly realizing that she was still in her night-garb, she withdrew with Rhylla to dress.

The Lord Captain was full of plans for a feast that night, and I busied myself while waiting for Silma with hastily writing out messages to be sent by pigeon to the King, Gimli and Lady Silwen. Tamperion, grinning, made haste to take them for me to where he had set his birds' cage so that they could be winging on their way back to the City.

“And had you made any plans for today, Prince Dalf?” Beregond asked.

“I am positive that my lady will be occupied with cleaning her home,” I said with a grimace as they all laughed and nodded. “The trick will be to prevent her from exhausting herself.”

“Oh, some of my men can assist her, under her direction, of course,” the Captain said.

“I c'n 'elp too, if you wish, Lord Dalf,” volunteered Caic, and I nodded my assent.

“What are you doing?” asked Legolas. “For I am certain that Mistress Rhylla will have a care for her.”

“I am at your disposal,” I shrugged.

“Could I prevail upon you and Lady Cormallen to ride further along the shore with me?” Beregond asked. “One of my charges from Prince Faramir is to survey the area where he wishes to build a home for Lady Ėowyn, and what will be the city of his lands.”

“An excellent idea,” I agreed.

Presently, after she rejoined us and we had broken our fast, we mounted the horses a soldier brought to us and rode out wiht him, Rhylla, Tamperion, Legolas, Caic and Master Tuor. Beregond showed me a rough map that Faramir had drawn, and we looked for the stream and other landmarks, to be certain that we had found the correct spot. Lady Silma gazed about, then said thoughtfully, “Did he say which way he wanted the house situated, what direction it should face? Because with the prevailing winds that come up the valley,” she pointed at the trees, and I could see that their branches were sideswept from winter winds, something I had never thought about before, “he might prefer to place it thus,” and having brushed aside fallen leaves, she sketched a few lines in the dirt with a stick.

“A very good point,” Legolas nodded. “For if they are not careful, every chimney in the house would belch smoke into the rooms in bad weather.”

“I had no idea that that was a consideration,” said Beregond as Master Tuor made a quick copy on a piece of the thin paper Tamperion used for the pigeons.

Being accustomed to underground living, I had never considered such concerns either, and listened with interest as the discussions continued about siting, direction, water sources (I was able to make a few suggestions and diagrams of piping a supply), and the condition of the ground. “If a small canal is dug,” I said, “they could float the stone—I assume that he wishes the buildings to be of stone? —easily enough from the river to the lake, much easier than transporting overland, although I suggest a road be brought this way from the main one, with the principal buildings….” After a while, I looked up from my drawing to see only us males, and knew that she had gone to her home.

I joined her there some time later, to find shutters removed from the windows, a great difference in itself, with the casement panes polished to clearness, and within a scent of stone damp from scrubbing and wood-polish, with a fine tapestry hung behind the small table, on which now stood a small vase of colourful flowers. I found her, sleeves rolled to the elbow, divided skirts covered by an improvised apron, busily talking to Rhylla while they polished some pewter cups. I paused in the doorway, committing the sight of her to memory.

“….I don’t know the answer to that,” she was saying.

“But t’ live underground, with bats an’ mice an’ worms an’ things,” Rhylla said with a shudder.

“I have never heard of such things,” she said, sounding more exasperated than I ever recalled hearing her before. “He’s the son of a King, Rhylla, for Valars’ sakes!”

“But from what the 'Alflings told me ‘bout Lord Iorhael’s cousin Bilbo Baggins, when he helped ‘em retake the Lonely Mountain from the dragon, he wandered for ages in low dark tunnels, with creatures like that Gollum, an’ eyeless fish, they was so far underground! Those must have spiders an’ other crawly things!”

“I am distressed that you disapprove my suit, Mistress Rhylla,” I said.


Silma:

Rhylla, Caic, and the six soldiers assigned to help us—but no, they assured me they had volunteered—worked hard, and we made a good dent in clearing up many of the rooms. Rhylla, at first seemingly happy with my choice, for some reason of her own began to seize upon whatever gloomy aspects she could, until I was fast running out of patience with her. After muttering about family that would not accept one of a different race, so I’d be all alone and misunderstood in their halls, a topic that was causing me some unease although I would not admit it to her, to dire predictions of what half-bred children might look like, she had begun to fret about housekeeping standards in living in caverns!

I was spared replying sharply by Dalf saying gravely, “I am distressed that you disapprove my suit, Mistress Rhylla.”

She whirled, red-faced. “'Oo says I disapprove?” she asked indignantly. “’Tis a fine match, the two of you so in love’s you are!”

“And yet, as much as you care for your mistress, and believing I would not provide decently for her, how can you approve?” he asked in the same serious tone—but I had seen the twinkle in his eyes, although I wasn’t going to help her out of the mess she had created.

“I didn’t mean you wouldn’t provide for ‘er right,” she protested.

“No?”

The silence grew, and her face grew even redder as she floundered for words. I folded my arms and sat silently as she glanced from one to the other of us. At last she said, “Oh, Lord Dalf, I’m jus’ an ignorant lass who’s ‘eared too many tales ‘thout seein’ for m’self the truth o’ ‘em!”

“All about the mean, grasping, greedy Dwarves, who labour in sooty forges underground, eat hard bread and tacks, and live with all kinds of eldritch creatures?” he asked.

“You ain’t mean nor graspin’ nor greedy, an’ I never yet seen you look sooty nor out-at-heel,” she said. “But I am wonderin’ wot your folk eat, an’ ‘ow you live. Why wouldn’t I?”

“Why not indeed,” he agreed. “Well, we eat much the same foodstuffs as you do, if less from the sea, since most of the fish we eat come from fresh waters. Most of our food is traded for with other peoples—the Elves, and Men, mostly, including the Beijabar—they are wondrous bakers—and we have a few special dishes we particularly relish.”

“Wot kind?” she asked curiously.

“Mushrooms,” he said, and laughed at her expression. “Grilled, or roasted, and many with sauces. ‘Tis said that no Dwarf with a knowledge of fungi can ever starve. Some are very tasty, prepared aright. Some, of course, are poisonous, but is that not true of one kind of shellfish?”

“There are many toxic plants,” I contributed.

“As for the housekeeping standards of the Lonely Mountain, well, dragons are not noted for that, including Smaug,” he said whimsically. “Aye, there were spiders and some other creatures of the earth, but one of the first things that party did was to burn a kind of smoke that makes them decide to live elsewhere. We brought our womenfolk there, you know, and they are as proud of their clean hearths and homes as any Mannish or Elvish or Hobbitess women I have met. My mother would not have been very happy about the thought of mice or bats or suchlike herself, and I have spent many hours as a wayward Dwarfling, beating carpets and scrubbing pots to her standards! Most of the living areas are lined with polished stone, and where they are shored up by pillars, those are carved and carefully wrought. We use the finest materials for our lamps and have many devices to ensure that the air remains pure. Under the surface, the temperature stays cool, but not as icy as many places above. We take great pride in our craftsmanship, so most of the items we use in daily life are at least well-made and well designed. We are makers, we Dweorg, and our workshops and forges are the mainstays of our livings, but our lives are centered around our families, as most Kindreds are.”

She bobbed a curtsey. “I beg pardon, Lord Dalf, Lady Silma. I spoke too quick, ‘thout thinkin’.”

“’Twould be fine to see a Dwarven hall,” said Caic softly; I had almost forgotten he was there, he’d kept so still, although he had continued to work diligently at his polishing.

“Would you like that, Caic?”

“Aye, I would, Lord Dalf. The more you learn—I mean, teach—me ‘bout things, the more I want t’ know an’ see! Master Kinfinning’s taught me a lot at the ‘Ouses, but I want t’ know more, ‘f that’s all right.”

“The desire for knowledge is always to be encouraged,” Dalf said portentiously, but in a very pleased tone, and I agreed.

“Mayhap we can discuss with him about a more formal apprenticeship when we return to the city,” I suggested.

He beamed. “That would be grand! But I wonder—if ‘tisn’t out of place for me t’say—“ The light went out of his eyes as he spoke, but he obviously forced himself to get to his feet and speak.

“What is it, lad?” Dalf asked.

“I think Sev would be envious of me, an’ prob’ly Marfel as well. Neither was asked by their folk did they want t’ go t’ the ‘Ouses, just sent there same’s me. I’d understand, my lord, ‘f you’d prefer one of ‘em t’ me, them bein’ ‘igher born an’ more educated already’n me.”

Dalf gazed at him for a long moment while I almost held my breath, before he said seriously, “It’s the measure of a person to be willing to risk a dream for the sake of friendship. I want you to know that I respect that in you, Caic. Whether or no their families agree to their being placed differently, I will tell both of your thought for them. Certainly it must be discussed at length before any arrangements are made, but your situation is more easily addressed because you have no kin to be consulted. If Lady Silma and Master Kinfinning approve, I would be happy to accept you. Silma?”

I smiled at them. “I would be delighted as well. It will comfort me to know that you have a loyal member of our household at your side.”

“He shall, my lady, I swear it by all the Valar!” he said solemnly, before a grin almost split his face and he barely restrained himself from doing a dance step.

“—As long as you promise not to shoot any more arrows at him, or get the other two drunk again,” I added.

“No, my lady!”


Dalf:

I teased Rhylla, but by the end of our discussion, and her frank admission that she had been thinking in stereotypes, I had food for thought myself—would most Mannish folk react the same way, wondering why my lady had agreed to wed me? Inwardly I vowed to speak with her about this privately. Had she been anxious about how we would live?

“’Twould be fine to see a Dwarven hall,” said Caic softly.

I was pleased when he said that he enjoyed learning, and wanted to learn more, and when Silma suggested, “Mayhap we can discuss with him about a more formal apprenticeship when we return to the city.”

“That would be grand!” Caic said eagerly. “But I wonder—if ‘tisn’t out of place for me t’say—“ He had risen to his feet, but was abruptly bracing himself for our reactions to what he meant to say.

“What is it, lad?” I asked.

“I think Sev would be envious of me, an’ prob’ly Marfel as well. Neither was asked by their folk did they want t’ go t’ the Houses, just sent there same’s me. I’d understand, my lord, ‘f you’d prefer one of ‘em t’ me, them bein’ higher born an’ more educated already’n me.”

I was moved by the courage and maturity he showed in saying this. I told him, “It’s the measure of a person to be willing to risk a dream for the sake of friendship. I want you to know that I respect that in you, Caic. Whether or no their families agree to their being placed differently, I will tell both of your thought for them. Certainly it must be discussed at length before any arrangements are made, but your situation is more easily addressed because you have no kin to be consulted. If Lady Silma and Master Kinfinning approve, I would be happy to accept you. Silma?”

Smiling, she commented, “I would be delighted as well. It will comfort me to know that you have a loyal member of our household at your side.”

“He shall, my lady, I swear it by all the Valar!” he vowed, before his joy showed in a grin and a hastily suppressed dance-step.

“—As long as you promise not to shoot any more arrows at him, or get the other two drunk,” she added mischieveously.

“Oh, no, my lady,” he said hastily.

I groaned. “Does everyone in Minas Anor know you mistook me for an orc?” I asked tragically.

“Probably,” she said demurely, and then she and Rhylla laughed at our expressions. Caic was blushing.

“I didn' know no better,” he said defensively.

“Nor did most of us, afore the siege,” Rhylla came to his rescue. “Well, this lot's done; ‘elp me put ‘em away, would you?” Gathering up half of them as he took the rest onto a tray, she said firmly, “I'll clear away the polish and cloths; you sh’ld take Lord Dalf to the library, my lady.”

“What a good idea,” I seconded, and with inclined heads from each of them, we separated.

As her betrothed, I availed myself of the right to tuck her hand into the crook of my arm. She led me out of the pantry and along the hall, turning into a spacious chamber with many shelves, mostly empty. “We shall have to fill these,” I noted.

“Ah, but come through here, and see what I found,” she said, eyes sparkling as she led me into an adjoining room, also spacious. Opening a cupboard, she revealed a harp of middling size. “It has been handed down in my mother's family for centuries,” she said in a voice trembling with emotion and awe. “I thought Jeren had sold it, for it vanished years ago. Yet it is here, and perfectly in tune!”

“Can you doubt that we are blessed?” I asked. “Will you play for us tonight?”

“I am woefully out of practice,” she said, but I could see that her fingers itched to pluck the strings. Gently she caressed the top of the forepillar, before closing the door. “There's a case for it too. No, I don't doubt it!”

“Are you sure, Silma? Rhylla won't be the only one to speculate about how you shall live in our life together. Have you been worried about it?” I asked.

She reached up, slender fingers lightly pushing at the furrow between my brows. “Have you?”

“Turn about is not answering my question.”

“But I will have your reply to this also, because it involves both of us. I have not bothered myself about crawling things, although my belief is that I do not want them in our home. If I venture into theirs, then I must expect them, but I don't want them in mine!” More seriously, she went on, “Dalf, we are each and both venturing into a journey to an unfamiliar place. Parts of it are like rooms in this house, that I have known since my earliest memories, but they are new to you. Parts will be new to me, because I have never been in a Dwarven hall. And parts will be new to both of us, because we will create them as we live. As long as we explore together, and talk about this journey, I believe it will be blessed, even when it is hard. I trust the Valar, I trust our love, and I trust you.”

Tears stung my eyes by its absoluteness, and I folded her in my arms, resting my chin on her head. “Oh, Silma!”

She hugged me back, then pulled back slightly to look up at me. “I may hurt your feelings with my ignorance, and you may hurt mine with yours, but if we don't discuss it, how else can we learn and straighten it out?”

“As I did outside the House of the Swan. I wish that had never happened!”

“I don't.”


Silma:

I took Dalf to the library, where, on seeing the many empty shelves, he commented that we would need to fill them. I was tempted to ask if he liked to read—there are so many things I don't know about him! —but I was eager to show him one of my big finds, so I led him to the music room and showed him the harp in the cupboard.

“It has been handed down in my mother's family for centuries,” My voice shook with emotion. “I thought Jeren had sold it, for it vanished years ago. Yet it is here, and perfectly in tune!”

“Can you doubt that we are blessed? Will you play for us tonight?”


“I am woefully out of practice,” I sighed, as I stroked the forepillar's top, before closing the door. “There's a case for it too. No, I don't doubt it!”

“Are you sure, Silma? Rhylla won't be the only one to speculate about how you shall live.in our life together. Have you been worried about it?”

“Have you?” I asked, trying to smooth out his worried frown.

“Turn about is not answering my question.”

“But I will have your reply to this also, because it involves both of us. I have not bothered myself about crawling things, although my belief is that I do not want them in our home. If I venture into theirs, then I must expect them, but I don't want them in mine! Dalf, we are each and both venturing into a journey to an unfamiliar place. Parts of it are like rooms in this house, that I have known since my earliest memories, but they are new to you. Parts will be new to me, because I have never been in a Dwarven hall. And parts will be new to both of us, because we will create them as we live. As long as we explore together, and talk about this journey, I believe it will be blessed, even when it is hard. I trust the Valar, I trust our love, and I trust you.”

“Oh, Silma!” he said, embracing me tightly.

I returned it before pulling back slightly to see his face. “I may hurt your feelings with my ignorance, and you may hurt mine with yours, but if we don't discuss it, how else can we learn from and straighten it out?”

“As I did outside the House of the Swan. I wish that had never happened!”

“I don't.”

Dalf goggled at me. “You don't? But I embarrassed and angered and hurt you!”

“But don't you see, my Dwarf, that that incident helped me understand? You should be grateful to Lord Andahar, you know.”

“Grateful to him? Why?”

“He spoke to me about such journeys. He helped me to see that you didn't understand our ways, and I didn’t think about how different your culture might be from mine. I loved you, Dalf, but I felt so guilty about feeling so that soon after Jehan's death, and it seemed so impossible for you to love me. I both wanted to hear you say it and feared it. Does that make any sense?”

He nodded. “I had just come from an argument with Gimli; I lost my temper and if not for the Hobbits, I might have hurt him badly.”


Dalf:

I was deeply ashamed when I confessed to Silma about my fight with Gimli. “I might have hurt him badly. I have not lost control of my temper that completely in years! I was so filled with emotion, I had no room to imagine what yours might be. I am so sorry!”

“I am too. But Andrahar made me think about how I would feel if I never saw you again. I realized that you are the most important person in my life.”

“You are right; I owe him a debt,” I said after a moment spent getting my voice under control.

“I think he would prefer you not mention it,” she said with a flash of humor.

“That may be, but I’m glad you told me. But are you worried about how our lives will be together?”

“I know that my life will be better with you than alone or with any other male I know,” she said. “Will I be uncertain, and fret about some things? Of course! You should know that I am a definite kind of person, Dalf. Vagueness upsets me. Even if you don't know yourself about something, my realizing that it is some new thing for both of us to cope with will help me. I am very nervous about meeting your family, especially your mother; I have a feeling that by now Caic may know more of your people's ways than I do. But I will learn, and I will meet them with the hope that we can come to an understanding.”

“We shall both learn,” I said.

She nestled closer before asking, “Is there aught that troubles you?”

I felt heat rise in my face.

“Dalf? Be fair!”

“You are so beautiful, and so brave,” I said softly. “I... have not—I have little experience of women, yet I would not be too hasty or—or forceful. I don't want to...disgust you.”

“You won't.”

I envied her calm certainty. She studied my face for a moment. “Come with me. I was going to wait until later, but there is something you must see.”

“What is it?”

“Come, my Dwarf!” she said, tugging on my hand, and led me to another door. “Open it.”

I laid my hand to the latch, and it opened, we crossed the threshold, and I cried out in wonder.

Before me was a workshop such as I had only dreamed of, with a forge in one corner, shelves for books and other storage, comfortable deep chairs and stools, a workbench....

“But how did you do this in one day?” I asked in bewilderment.

“I didn't. This was my father's workroom; you can see some of his tools over there—tools which he took with him to the farm. I recognize them, and the little stool where I used to sit and 'help' as far as a small child can. The forge wasn't here—how would he have learned such craft?—nor the other tools of which I presume you know the use. It is the same as Mother's harp, only for you, beloved. Who could have wrought this but Aulë, as I believe Yavanna brought hither Mother's harp? How can I doubt?”

“And how can I?”

“You'll want to examine it more closely,” she said. “I must see to a few household things with Rhylla. Join me later.” And she slipped away.


Silma:

That evening, we were able to host the feast, setting up trestle tables in the courtyard for it, and enjoying delicious game and other dishes, finishing with the Dry White from Dorwinion provided by the Lord Captain. I have seldom been prouder than when Dalf rose from his seat at my side and in courteous phrases, replied to the toasts by Lord Herenyand, Legolas, Beregond, Tamperion, and Caic. I was very glad that Silwen had insisted on sending one fine gown to me, and afterward, they brought out the harp, and I played for them. We persuaded Dalf to sing a Dwarven song, and a good baritone he has; he and I sang a duet of a Rohir song that we had learned from Wilmet and Ull.

It was an early evening, for we had yet to pack and ready ourselves for our return journey back to Minas Anor the next day.

~~~

1. Not only is Silma thinking as a Mannish woman instead of as Halfelven, she is thinking as if she wasn't one of the Dúnedain, who are much longer-lived than lesser Men. However, most of her patients and neighbors have not been among the High Men. She still has not fully reconciled herself to her dual heritage.
2. Among the Dwarves, males outnumber females by about 4:1. Consequently, few Dwarves marry, and Dwarvish women are highly valued and extremely important. Few of them are ever seen outside their holds, and then usually in disguise, which is why many Men believe that there are no Dwarvish women, that Dwarves spring from stone.


[Prev][Index][Next]

Post A Review

Report this chapter for abuse of site guidelines. (Opens new window)

CHTcnt:251
A Mike Kellner Web Site
Tolkien Characters, Locations, & Artifacts © Tolkien Estate & Designated Licensees - All Rights Reserved
Stories & Other Content © The Respective Authors - All Rights Reserved
Software & Design © 2003 - 2017 Michael G Kellner All Rights Reserved
Hosted by:Raven Studioz