Feud

Title: Feud
Author: Nárcolindë, robey61@yahoo.com
Pairing: Legolas/Elrond
Rating: NC17 overall
Warnings: AU, OOC
Disclaimer: Characters, events and locations recognizable from the works of JRR Tolkien are the property of his estate. This story is intended for enjoyment, not profit.

A/N: This chapter contains a tribute to my beta, Sarah. She is NOT a Mary Sue!

Chapter 25: Introspection

It was not the interview Erestor had hoped for, this meeting with the brown wizard. What he wanted was the chance to speak privately with Las bas but the three elves and the Maia had only been with the humans a day and no opportunity had arisen. Instead he was waiting for the normally kindly Istari to join him at the village center. It had not been a suggestion or an invitation, Radagast had demanded the conference in uncharacteristically stringent words and Elrond had left the handling of it to his trusted advisor. The Elven Lord would not be at the little causerie; he was consumed with his duties as a healeLegoLegolas would likewise be absent, working somewhere in the village or perhaps rebuilding the traps that formed the primary defense against Orc raids, Erestor was uncertain which.

He supposed it was for the best. Had he managed to secure a private assignation with the wild elf, Erestor would have had a serious dilemma with which to contend; the temptation to initiate a coupling with Legolas was too great to overcome in spite of his honest intentions not to harm the fallen archer. He was certain he could win him; Legolas had seemed to respond favorably to him since arriving in the enchanted glade. Erestor chose to believe that it was his personal charm that had enabled him to diffuse the Wood Elf's hostility towards Elrond, rather than the effects of the poison and the fungus working through his body.

{A few kind words and a soft touch, that is what Legolas needs,} he thought, and wondered if the wild elf had ever known either from a lover. He would gladly give them both to reap the harvest of pleasure from pen-rhovan's ripe, latent desires and to give Legolas an experience devoid of pain. He imagined what it would be like to touch that cock again, to taste the nectar at its tip, to explore that wondrous mouth with his, and then bury his shaft within it, wrapped in that exquisitely mobile tongue! In return for the realization of these recurring fantasies, Erestor had decided to submit to Legolas, to be filled by him, a favor thus far reserved for Orophin alone.

"Erestor!" the strident voice shattered the Noldo's erotic imagery in tones of irritation suggesting it was not the first time Radagast had called out. The seneschal was alarmed to hear his own name so loudly spoken and looked about anxiously for any sign of Legolas' presence.

\is nis not here," the brown wizard frowned around the words. "He is at the sick house visiting the children with their sister and cousin. The girl insisted on seeing her little brothers and Legolas refused to let her do so alone. I would speak with you regarding this game you and Elrond are playing! First, why does the sound of your name daunt you? Answer!" the mild tempered Istari suddenly seemed almos mes menacing as Mithrandir and Erestor cowered back a bit under his scrutiny.

"Perhaps we could talk somewhere less exposed, Aiwendil! These are not matters for the general population to know!" he stalled for time, undecided on how much he should reveal without first consulting Elrond.

Aiwendil did not bother to reply and merely strode off across the scorched and barren pathway towards the outermost edge of the compound where stood a small cottage with a newly thatched roof and a rebuilt lintel over the entrance. Inside was a single large room with a hard packed dirt floor and a huge central fireplace wide enough to accommodate three tree-sized logs gleaned from the debris of the catastrophe. There was no need for a fire this day, yet the wizard still led his guest to a small wooden bench next to the hearth and motioned for him to be seated. Radagast remained on his feet and glared silently down at the uneasy Noldo. Erestor squirmed in apprehensive discomfort and took a deep breath.

"I realize you have concerns, but what we are doing is necessary. Elrond needs to know the extent of Thranduil's involvement with the activities in Dol Guldur. He is certain Legolas may have knowledge of a way into the vaults unknown toone one else," he said with less than confident intonation.

"Mithrandir is seeing to that. You know that he sent Legolas here, and for good reasons. Whatever is going on in Thranduil's plotting mind Legolas is not party to it and does not need to be caught up in such intrigues!"

"I agree with you there! What I said before holds; I regret the deceits we have enacted against him."

"Then speak! What are these lies?"

"We have not given our true identities. Legolas believes Elrond to be me, and I am known to him as Berenaur, a lesser advisor."

"Why?" the Istari's single word held the kindling menace of a white-hot brand poised to sear into unprotected flesh.

"Given the situation between Elrond and his mother, it seemed unlikely he would have anything to do with us if he knew. We felt the need; that is, Elrond felt the need to establish an emotional bond with Legolas. Personally, I thought we might have used the whole paternity issue to our favor, but Elrond was against that," This was not going well for Erestor. The plot sounded completely contrived when spoken aloud in the presence of an objective pair of ears. Or rather, when heard by a listener with the Wood Elf's care at heart. He tried to bring his explanation back in concert with the need for information on Thranduil's plans. "If he felt some kind of link to Elrond, then Legolas would be more likely to give us the knowledge we sought."

The Istari's eyes were nearly undetectable behind lowered brows and lash-lined slitted lids. He tried to digest what these words truly meant and did not like what his intuition warned. "Did you or Elrond tell him what you suspect?"

"No! That would not do at all! If he were to refuse to help us, then he would carry that notion back to Thranduil! This is what we must prevent at all costs!" Erestor exclaimed.

"That is a pity. You could simply have asked him and you would have gotten a straightforward reply. Legolas does not lie," the wizard said with no small amount of proud admiration. "Either he knows how to get in or not. And he would be right to tell Thranduil what Imladris has alleged before the White Council. Mithrandir has steadfastly argued to do so; the Woodland King has a right to know why his resources are so sorely pressed in defending his Realm. Just to state my own opinion again, I believe this conjecture of Elrond's most definitely represents a threat to Greenwood's population! " He continued.

"Exactly what is the nature of this emotional bond that Elrond felt so necessary to incur. And tell me, Erestor, exactly what sort of trust does one build from deceit?"

This remark caused the Noldo to cringe as he looked away from Radagast. Erestor simply could not keep it up any longer; the ruse was just too terribly selfish and had so little to do with the security of Imladris. He needed to cleanse himself of it if he ever wanted to meet the eyes of his mated lovers again. The seneschal no longer remembered why he had thought this was such an appealing escapade, nor could he recall when he had allowed Elrond's personal feud with Thranduil to over rule his own convictions. Surely he had not always been so cold of heart. With an unpleasant sense of distaste Erestor realized he had never thought of the harm they might inflict upon Legolas as an important consideration.

"Aye, it is as you suggest. No true bond has been made on our part. We have been manipulating him. Emotionally. Sexually."

The room took on unnatural warmth that spread from the Istari in waves of increasing incalescence. The logs in the grate ignited and the thatch roof shriveled in the shimmering air, leaving gaps in the coverage as the drying straw contracted. The earthen floor felt hot beneath the seneschal's bare feet and he unconsciously shifted them one against the other, his eyes never straying from the wizard's furious countenance. Erestor hoped the Maia would remember the oaths of his order and confine his wrath to inanimate objects.

It was a near thing, but Radagast held true to the vows he had taken before Manwë and Varda. With a blistering, withering gaze at the Noldo before him and a sweep of his long robes upon the floor as he turned Aiwendil departed the cabin and headed out of the village, too angry to trust himself to face Elrond yet.

It was more than infuriating to find his friend being used in such a manner. Aiwendil was fairly sure that the seneschal was not intimately involved with Legolas, or the story would not have been so quickly told. No, it was only Elrond who had bedded the fallen prince. Aiwendil fumed in exasperatedly silent outrage. That the Elf Lord would choose this means to maneuver for supremacy in the power struggle with Thranduil went far beyond any of his previous behaviors. To think that Elrond, Lord of Imladris, would take as his lover not only his old antagonist's deposed heir, but also his former mistress' only child, and possibly his own offspring!

{For where Elrond is concerned, Legolas is all these things at once, and when he learns the truth he will be utterly shattered,} the Istari thought.

And as Erestor nervously awaited the confrontation, Radagast deliberated the best course to take through the unpleasant mess the Elf Lord had created.

The welfare of the humans over rode the wizard's desire to confront the Noldo Lord. Elrond's skills were needed, and his strength as a restorer need not be curtailed as long as Legolas was kept from further carnal contact with the healer. Aiwendil dreaded to reveal the truth to his young friend; somehow Legolas would have to be told, but Radagast did not want to be the bearer of the tidings. The Wood Elf was obviously already distressed over the encounter and now had the burden of the village's destruction on his shoulders and the unspeakable suffering of the little ones to bear. He hesitated, deciding to wait until the fate of the two boys was better understood.

The cries of the dying children filled the forest for a fourth of a league's circumference by humans' hearing and two leagues out according to elves' acuity. Save for the continuous echoes of the biting of axe on wood little else was audible in the cinder scented air. Day and night the poor souls screamed their terror and torment from their weakening bodies, interrupted by deadly tranquility when their consciousness mercifully fled.

The mother lying in the bed next to them begged for an end to their misery. pleapleaded with the Elf Lord to kill them, for they were suffering and even should they recover, their lives would be spent in disfigured pain and disabled dependency. This doom she could not abide her sons to fulfill.

Elrond steadfastly refused to accede to the woman's demands, and she soon succumbed to her sorrow and her own painful injuries, perishing in the early light of daybreak on the fourth day. The family mourned anew and the Elder spoke words at the graveside, enjoining all to rally round the bereft children, now orphaned. They were but the latest added to this caste. In all, seven families lost one or both parents, leaving anywhere from only one babe to five young ones to fend for themselves. Llannadh and her siblings were fortunate to have an aunt in the village who adopted them at once.

The twin boys endured.

Elrond labored to cure them, spending all his hours within the sick house, refusing to allow any other to tend the little ones' sickening wounds. Sharing the babes' status as a twin and his sons being gemini also, he felt driven to return them to the embrace of the grieving sisters, hale if not whole. His empathy for these orphans surprised him; he refused to consider the possibility of their demise and fought this battle against death with greater vigor than any since the vile desecration of Celebrian.

He had succeeded then, due more to her own will and the natural resiliency of elf-kind, but even so she had been unable to bear the disfigurement of her soul. His determination to prevail with the little humans was bolstered by the aunt's and the oldest sister's attendance at the bedside whenever he allowed it. These little ones were closely knit within the hearts and souls of their family. Elrond simply refused to acknowledge that Celebrian, with three devoted children and adoring parents, had been as equally loved as were these small boys.

They were scarcely two years old, and remarkable in their tenacious capacity to live. Llannadh had informed Elrond that they were special, born the very day that Legolas had initiated the first traps at the borders of the village, and as such represented the zeal of the people to hold fast to their lands and homes. In honor of the killing of twelve Orcs that had been terrorizing are area, the father had asked for the Wood Elf to give the babes elvish names. The Elf Lord had wondered to learn of this, for Legolas had rendered their human names into the High Tongue.

Yet the little ones' injuries were horrendous, and infections were insuppressible. As soon as the healer had one under control, another wound festered and grew gangrenous. From Cemendur, an arm was taken; from Carnil, the right hand and left leg from the knee down. The fire was still eating them, consuming their flesh by inches, en echelon.

Outside the hut, Legolas hov at at the doorway the first few days. Neither Aiwendil nor Elrond felt it a good idea for him to see them too often, for his attachment to the children was intense and his anguish over their pain and sickness proportionate. The Elder noted his overwrought manner also and bade the villagers attempt to keep him involved in the rebuilding activities. With the boys' despairing shrieks, even this was insufficient to distract him, and Aiwendil was forced to drastic means.

The Istari created a barrier of protection around the village and enlisted the wild elf's connection with Tawar to stabilize and enhance the magic. This required Legolas' surveillance of the boundary and regular physical contact with the trees through which the strh anh and energy for the barrier derived. With the destruction of so much of the Greenwood, the connection was as tenuous as mist in the morning and would never prevent an attack from the Wraiths. It was something akin to the Girdle of Melian, yet lesser in measure and potency, for Melian had drawn upon the essence of the elves themselves to construct her wall of obscurity while Aiwendil had but one elf and a handful of oaks and beeches. Still, its primary purpose was to supply a diversion, and for this it was ample.

A blur of days sped past until four week's worth had elapsed and were gone from all but memory, and Carnil expired in the darkness of Ithil's hours.

For the first time in his existence Erestor felt the fleeting hours of all mortals' brevity keenly. Without pausing to consider the futility of their actions the village folk rebuilt their lives from the devastation of the trembling earth, determined to do more than exist only to perish. What this actually meant to them escaped the elf's understanding. They flowed like water, these humans, determined to push through what ever obstacle might appear, only to empty out into the ocean of Ea, the individual character of each life absorbed and lost in the anonymity of being. No matter what they did, it was always the same, and when they died there were others that took up the task, continuing the unending monotony.

To what purpose?

It required so much toil, so much effort, and yet when it was done there was only this small collection of people, nothing more. It was the same wherever Men were found; the size of the group varied, the grandeur of the structures and wealth of the culture changed but it was ry aly all the same, iteration upon redundancy. Erestor could not hear the contribution these humans made to the Music and wondered if he was missing something important, something that darted away as quickly as the glimmering streak of a shooting star faded from view in the endless black of Ithil's night.

Perhaps the mortals were not the musicians; perhaps they were the instruments. A harp, no matter whether lovely and finely wrought or simple and unadorned, was silent until the harpist plucked the strings and drew forth music from the voiceless shape. Any harp could be made to produce the songs by a skilled musician, and if damaged, a new one made to take its place.

Yet strangely as aas also not exactly so. These humans had desperately hoped the burned children and mother would survive their terrible injuries and rejoin the community. The twins were not old enough to have made any contribution to the village yet, and her sister and the oldest child had already assumed the mother's responsibilities. Why should the whole town be praying so for the recovery of these few members, when survival could only mean spending the remainder of their lives in pain and disfigurement?

They were loved and held unexpected uniqueness hidden within their human uniformity; this much Erestor registered.

He sighed. Trying to discuss this with Aiwendil had been useless; the wizard had not been able to comprehend his dilemma. The humans simply were a part of the Making; no further explanation did the Istari require. The individual was to be prized, but in the end the singularity of each personal drama nishnished within the greater task of perpetuating the collective body as an entity. Should one human's fate be to die sooner than late, the rest of the village would carry on with the endless drudgery of existence. "It is the way of things," the old wizard had said calmly, as though this was the most understandable concept within all of Arda.

And though Erestor made two attempts to draw him out, Aiwendil refused to further discuss his plans for Elrond and Legolas. Erestor was not eager to press harder, being too grateful to see the Istari's anger abate somewhat, replaced by worried concern. The death of the child fell hard upon the archer, and the kindly wizard spent his time trying to ease the Legolas' guilt rather than adding new hardships.

The seneschal shook his head, observing the people stir from slumber and begin the illimitable travail yet again. They woke with the sun and slept through Ithil's reign. The silent and motionless nights were the hardest for Erestor to bear, for no singing or even conversing among the people took place. No hunting parties were organized and no watches were set, for Legolas and Aiwendil patrolled the outskirts until the coming of dawn. This left Erestor with only the sick house for a destination. Often he took a turn monitoring the patients to allow Elrond a chance to leave the gruesome place and rest.

The two of them had made their peace. The long centuries of their friendship did not allow a permanent break in the relationship. Too much had they depended on one another and at times trusted their lives and the welfare of loved ones to the other's care. They shared a common goal of defending their homeland and people against the rising power of Darkness, and a quick discussion had been all that was required to return to their previous understanding.

Elrond knew of the wizard's awareness of his scheming, and did not hold Erestor to account for it anymore. The loss of Carnil weighed heavily on his heart, and his vision for this mission had become defunct, irrevocably dissipated by the renewal of sound judgement the sobering defeat initiated. He learned of the barrier and its diversionary purpose and felt a resurgence of conscience to have caused the Istari to separate the feral elf from him as much as from the bone-rattling screams of the injured.

His observation of Legolas' tireless efforts to repair all that had been destroyed turned his mind to the character of the Wood Elf, and he came to see that he was neither like Ningloriel nor Thranduil in his guileless compassion. The younger elf's evident sorrow over the death of the child was unnerving, for Elrond remembered that Legolas was already grieving. Even within his own shell of despair, the Wood Elf reached out to comfort the other siblings, and had three times brought food and drink to the healer when Elrond refused to leave the remaining child's bedside for even long enough to eat.

Elrond realized now the genuine depth of feeling Legolas had shared with him the day of the heaving earth, and the comfort he had sought to give while seeking none for his own unhappy emptiness. The heinousness of the Elf Lord's abuse of that sympathy and generosity was bitter to the palate, yet Elrond could not deny his culpability. In truth, he was now as much concerned with how to spare Legolas further harm, as was the Istari.

The Lord of Imladris began to regret that he could never reveal who he was without losing Legolas totally. Here indeed was an elf with rare qualities such as he had not found in millennia, characteristics worthy of respect and a nature deserving to be loved. In his spiteful desire to punish those who had hurt him, Elrond had lost the chance to determine if a true soul-bond was possible and had condemned to failure a relationship with someone who actually understood him.

But there was no way to repair this wrong. He and Erestor would leave as soon as the last patient's fate was accomplished and the seneschal would keep further disclosures unspoken. This was the plan as long as Aiwendil continued to withhold his counsel from the Wood Elf. That was a circumstance neither Noldo could predict, and while it was worrisome, they agreed to wait for him to approach Elrond concerning the situation, for the Elf Lord had not the energy to promote the debate.

Erestor had intended to keep his resolve to be honest with Legolas, despite his agreement with his Lord, but never could he find a moment when the Wood Elf was alone. Either he was working alongside the villagers cutting and clearing or building and mending, off somewhere with Radagast, hanging about the sick house waiting for Elrond to come out and give news, or entertaining the little children with stories and games. Most of the time he was flanked by the two young maidens, Llannadh and her cousin Sarah, who linked their arms through his and refused to let go. This day was no different from the last thirty or so the elves had thus far spent in the village.

The seneschal watched as the maidens dragged Legolas toward one of the small dwellings, each one using both her hands to trap his securely, laughing conspiratorially at his half-hearted protestations and lagging gait. They seemed to be expending extra effort to deflect both his and their own thoughts from the death of Carnil, just two days ago. However, since arriving in the village, Erestor had observed that virtually all Legolas' spare time was commandeered either by Radagast of these two.

The maids were drawn to him, and Legolas allowed their touch whenever they wished, however they wished, for as long as they wished. Their hands investigated the ropy locks of his hair, plaiting and unplaiting the dense, felted strands, combing them between their fingers, pulling them back from his face, fastening them with their own ties to be kept out of the way when he worked. They plied their fingertips to gently trace old scars and new, to artfully massage sore muscles at the end of the day. Such clever digits to entwine themselves intricately with his, leading him away to one spot or another where they would sit and talk for as long as he would listen.

Erestor sighed, envious of this exquisite opportunity neither girl seemed to appreciate for its more salacious enjoyments. Despite their great liberty of access, it was precisely because they had nothing whatever to fear from him that the young ladies felt so comfortable. Legolas was like their brother; there was absolutely nothing sexual in the constant contact. Or rather, there was an essential sensuality to it that yet remained devoid of any somatic attraction between them. The young ladies were curious and Legolas enjoyed it, even seemed to need it. They could fully explore his masculinity without worry that he would want to do likewise concerntheitheir femininity, while he could absorb the attention without arousal and without the expectation of relieving anyone else's hungers.

Still, there was more to this than inquisitive poking and prodding. Legolas was their protector; Sarah, especially, was pestered by an unwelcome suitor who did not understand when to quit. An undoubtedly painful arrow-grazed welt across the Man's backside made it clear that no harassment would be tolerated and that the maiden had the wild elf's particular favor.

Erestor smiled, picking up the females' voices uttering something about 'atrocious leggings' and 'intolerable dishabille', as the girls herded the Wood Elf inside the hut against Legolas' defense of at least two years good use left in the shabby much-mended garment. In some ways their treatment was very motherly. If he was their brother, he was often their younger brother and they watched over him. Unless he was engrossed in wood-working, a skill the feral elf possessed that surprised Erestor, the other adults would find it just as difficult to be near the archer as did he. And, except for Aiwendil and the Elder, it was rare for any to be alone with him. Especially males.

Now that he considered it, perhaps these unlikely chaperones were working their maternal magic on him and that was why he could not get closer than two arm lengths from wildwild warrior. Erestor grimaced; these young maids were incredibly astute for Legolas would not have told them of the things that had happened over the last few weeks. Perhaps the wizard had recruited their aid in keeping the Wood Elf separate from the healer and his advisor.

The Noldo decided to test his new insight, and followed the path along which the girls had led their pet. He knew Legolas would hear his approach and did not attempt any stealth; it was part of his new cy ocy of forthright honesty towards the Tawarwaith. He could hear them talking quietly together, apparently discussing a means to join leather such that no irritating raised ridge of material would rub against sensitive skin while racing through treetops fighting Ring-wraiths.

"Berenaur approaches; give me those breeches back!" the wild elf's frantic voice was edged in just enough panic to make the girls go silent. But for that, Erestor would have been thrilled to walk in and catch the elf struggling back into his clothes. Instead, the seneschal felt saddened to have elicitedh anh an unnerved response. He stopped outside the open door way and lifted his hand to knock on the wood frame politely.

"I will send him on his way; do not worry!" a loud whisper, voluble enough even for a human to overhear, halted Erestor's hand before it reached the po The The Noldo's knuckles landed two tentative taps and Sarah appeared in the darkened opening, hands on hips and eyes sternly disapproving. She stared at him as though he was a wayward elfling interrupting his elders in an important conference of some sort.

"Yes?" she asked tersely.

Erestor observed this door warden closely. She was slight of build and tall, with dark hair thick and luxurious in its sheen and length, reaching halfway down her back even though it was braidrnatrnately in a single, heavy filigree of woven tresses. He had trouble telling for certain what color her eyes were, for they changed depending on the circumstances. Sometimes they were lively and the warm green irises bore bright flecks of light. Other times they were serious and forbidding, as they were now, and seemed to be almost golden. Erestor was not sure how this mortally fragile female could present such a formidable presence, but he felt himself reduced to thaywaayward elfling under her questioning gaze. He tried a smile, the rogue-ish one that even worked on Legolas, but her demeanor did not alter.

"I wish to speak to Legolas," he finally said and she twisted her already set lips into an even more unwelcoming essiossion.

"Legolas is busy," she said without compunction and went back inside the hut. Left on the stoop, Erestor heard the girls' impertinent giggles at his expense, but noted that Legolas had not joined in, so he did not retreat. He knocked again. More rudely expressive whispering from the females ensued and several irritated sighs issued from the building before both girls suddenly stepped into view.

"What do you want?" Llannadh asked crossly.

"I have told you we are occupied!" added Sarah.

Erestor looked from one to the other, perplexed. There had to be a way to convince them to let him in, but he had no idea what that might be. They were intent on keeping Legolas to themselves, protecting him. He needed to over ride their authority and engage the feraf dif directly.

"Please ask Legolas if he will speak to me. It does not have to be right now, and you can stay while we talk. It is important that I speak to him. Tell him it has to do with Erestor," the seneschal said, knowing Legolas could clearly hear him, hoping to pique his curiosity enough to grant an audience. The archer stepped into the light, worry and distrust filling his open gaze.

"What is wrong, is there a change in Cemendur's condition? Are we allowed to see him yet?" he asked. Erestor noted that the girls protectively linked their arms around his waist.

"No, it has nothing to do with the child. His status is unchanged as far as I know."

"Then what is it about? Surely Erestor can speak for himself if he wishes," this terse retort from Sarah, who glared to add emphasis to her suspicion.

"It concerns the purpose of our mission here, yoone,one, and that is something not to be discussed with children!" the seneschal irritably replied. "I would speak with you, Legolas," he continued calmly. "Perhaps tomorrow during the midday break you would share the meal with me."

"I will do so, provided Aiwendil agrees. He has need of my help in maintaining the barrier and I may be away most of the day tomorrow. I have only stayed this long to have news of how Cemendur fares," the wild archer replied.

Erestor frowned as he exhaled a loud breath through his nose, noting the triumphant expression on Sarah's face and the seriously concerned one on Llannadh's. It was true, then. The wizard was determined to keep the truth from reaching Legolas through the Noldor's telling.

{Very well, I shall abide by the Maia's decision and reveal only the part concerning Thranduil and Sauron's Ring,} Erestor thought. "Tomorrow at noon, then, the wizard allowing," he agreed to the conditions with a brief nod. "Will your two friends be there as well?"

The girls said yes but Legolas said no, all together, and then looked at each other in confusion for a moment. The wild elf shook his head.

"No," he repeated much to the girls' chagrin. "Berenaur is correct; such issues need not trouble you."

Sarah cast a narrow and searching glare in the Noldo's direction and Llannadh walked Legolas back inside without a word.

TBC

A/N: Thank-you to everyone for being patient!vingving across the country is difficult! Still relying on public library internet access, so some delays may continue until I find a place to stay and get my own connection.