Title: Through the Ages
Author: Mawgy
Beta: Naresha + Mum (Thanks guys!)
Dedicated to my Boney Arse *winks* *sheep*
Rated: NC-17!!!!!
Genre: Ansgt, AU
Warnings: RAPE! RAPE! MORE RAPE! ABUSE! TORTURE! General icky-ness
Pairing: (eventually) Erestor/Glorfindel
Summary: This fic follows the somewhat sordid lives of Erestor and Glorfindel from their childhood in Gondolin to their re-acquaintance in Imladris. Glorfindel is a Lord much like in medieval times and has power over everything and everyone, and Erestor, a lowly peasant.
Disclaimer: I own nothing and am making no money from this story… I just like to play with other people’s toys. ;)
Author’s note: RAPE! If you do not like this, DO NOT READ! I will not be blamed for your lack of judgement!
Chapter 22
Erestor remained in the corner for most of the night, a silent vigil watching over Natahl’s bed long after the healer’s had stopped tending to him. From his vantage point, the healers had disrobed him and washed his body to remove the dirt and grime obstructing their view of any cuts and lacerations on the well-sculpted body, but had yet to apply their skills further. The two healers and two assistants just looked at each other in confusion for a moment, then covered the blonde with a blanket and moved on. Erestor didn’t understand why they had yet to treat him properly, but since he was still breathing and seemed whole, he assumed the professionals knew what they were doing and believed other lives were more pressing then Natahl’s right now. But that did not stop Erestor from worrying.
The dark head jerked away from the wall as Natahl grunted and his lips twitched. Wide-eyed, Erestor watched the blonde as his eyelids fluttered for a moment before opening completely, blinking a few times to take in the light blinding his vision. Erestor was so relieved he stood up too quickly, forgetting about the object inside him and had to lean upon the wall heavily lest he fall. Taking a few seconds to catch his breath, Erestor then hurried to Natahl’s side.
“Natahl? Are you alright? Would you like me to get a healer?” Erestor asked and gently brushed a lock of hair from the warrior’s face. Green eyes swung to his and Natahl gave a huge, handsome smile.
“Erestor… Oh how I have missed you,” he whispered and grasped the slender hand to give it a kiss.
“Yes, I have missed you too,” Erestor responded carefully. “How are you feeling?”
“I think I am dying,” Natahl whispered, a serious expression on his face. Erestor’s pale face turned a slight shade of green. “See for yourself,” Natahl urged and pulled the blanket away from his body slightly.
“Maybe I should get a healer for you,” Erestor began.
“No! You look, I want to know what you think,” Natahl pleaded.
Swallowing harshly, Erestor took hold of the covers and lifted them higher so he could see. Bracing himself for the worst, Erestor frowned upon seeing nothing out of the ordinary, and pretended not to notice the large erection the warrior sported. Lifting his head he looked at Natahl.
“I see nothing…” he started.
“Really? Look again,” Natahl urged.
Erestor gave the soldier a doubtful look but checked again.
“I see nothing grave… perhaps you were cut on your back?” Erestor asked, still with his head half buried under the blanket.
“Really? You do not see this?” Natahl asked and casually grabbed his cock and rocked it a bit to catch Erestor’s attention.
Erestor stood up immediately and levelled the blonde with a harsh glare.
“This is serious! I have sat for half the night on the cold floor imagining the worst! Were you even injured?” Erestor demanded.
Natahl sobered. “I was. A blow to the head. Initially it knocked me out. It was not until I was half way back to Gondolin that I woke with a horrible headache. I know there was a lot of blood on me, but none of it was my own. And I would have announced that I was fine, but the desire to see you again was too strong,” Natahl cooed and grasped Erestor’s hand. “Besides, I have had this raging hard on since our last time together… I truly feel like I will die if it is not seen to soon,” he whined.
Erestor looked incredulously at the blonde. “So you let your fellow warriors worry about you, not to mention *me*, and believe me, you will never understand everything I have been through tonight. You have abandoned your post and have potentially left Gondolin open to attack all because you cannot ‘tend’ to yourself!?” Erestor all but shouted and threw off Natahl’s hand, folding his arms over his chest.
“I CAN do it myself, and believe me I have, but one tiny image of you in my mind and it’s back in seconds… You have that kind of effect on me,” he smiled mischievously. “Besides, I am battle weary and possibly suffering a concussion. I would not be much use on the borders now given the amount of orcs there were just in this one party. They will send others in my place, it will be fine,” he soothed and slowly moved his hand to touch Erestor’s elbow.
Erestor said nothing but continued to glare. Natahl changed his expression playfully many times, trying to coerce Erestor’s forgiveness from him. Wretched, pleading, pouting, eyelids fluttering, smirking, bashful. When Erestor’s mouth quivered he knew he had cracked through the scribe’s defences.
“So, you were worried about me?” he teased, and pulled Erestor in for a kiss. Erestor blushed and gave the soldier a chaste but passionate kiss. Natahl pressed for more but Erestor pulled away.
“We are hardly in an appropriate place,” Erestor said strongly.
“So? That is not going to stop you from assisting me with my most pressing problem,” Natahl said seriously.
“Oh I beg to differ,” Erestor said back, trying to stifle a yawn. Rolling his neck and looking to the windows, he saw daybreak was not far off.
“Here,” Natahl said, lifting up the blanket again and shifting over on the bed.
“Would you stop flashing yourself at me,” Erestor said and tried to push the covers down but Natahl would not budge.
“Join me Erestor. You are exhausted and I need to sleep also. Come,” he said and jerked his head to the side. Erestor tried to size him up but Natahl gave nothing away. Sighing, he slipped off his shoes and climbed into the small bed, the warrior immediately covering him with the blanket and encircling the small elf in his arms. Erestor extended his arms and tentatively placed them on the warrior’s scar-scattered flesh. Sighing again, he allowed his mind to wander and against all odds, slept peacefully.
~*~
Erestor woke late into the day and bolted upright when he realised he had overslept.
“What is it?” Natahl asked groggily, tightening his arms around the scribe.
“I am late! I need to get to work!” Erestor said, trying to unwind Natahl’s arms from his body. Natahl smirked and only enclosed his limbs tighter, pulling Erestor closer to him.
“No you do not. You have the day off,” he said sleepily.
“The day off?” Erestor asked incredulously. “The only person who can give me a day of rest is my superior or Lord Glorfindel. Or his father. And after last night, I seriously doubt-”
Natahl put a finger to Erestor’s lips. “I may not know what happened between you and him whilst I was away, but I can only imagine it is a good thing as far as I am concerned because he appears to have backed off completely.” Erestor just frowned at Natahl’s words. “He was in here earlier to check on everyone and told me then that you should take the day easy. ‘Save your energy for tonight’, he said, and Erestor,” Natahl grinned devilishly, “I agree.” The blonde drew Erestor closer for a passionate kiss but the scribe turned his head, a dark expression taking over his features.
“Erestor?” Natahl asked, sitting up and stroked back a lock of hair.
“You like me, do you not?” Erestor asked.
“I think that is quite obvious,” Natahl smirked and pressed his hips to Erestor, his erection having only grown since last night.
“But, you like me more than just physically, right?” Erestor’s eyes were almost pleading.
“Erestor, what is this about?” Natahl asked flat out, all flirtatious pretences now gone.
“Lord Galshor has ordered me to his rooms tonight. And I know what your assumptions must be with what Lord Glorfindel and I do, but he has never taken me physically. For all intents and purposes, I am still a virgin and now… well, I just, I would rather a total stranger not know me in a way that is supposed to be special… sacred and known only to those that genuine affection exists for…” Erestor’s eyes quivered as he stared into Natahl’s.
“Well, if you would like me to have the honour, what are we waiting for?” Natahl grinned.
“No, I do not mean it like that…” Erestor said, looking down at his hands. “It is just,” he lowered his voice so they could not be overheard, “these lords have so much power. They can command anything at a whim and care not whose lives they destroy in the meantime. And I fear, forcing me to share my body will destroy me…” Erestor tried to explain.
“But… I cannot change this. I may be higher in rank than you but I cannot stop their orders, even if I wish to,” Natahl said.
“But you can! Well, we can!” Erestor spoke almost excitedly. “The sanctity of marriage is the one thing a lord has never dared to cross. If we-”
“Hold it right there,” Natahl cut Erestor off. “Erestor, I like you, I really do. And while marriage may one day be a true possibility for us, I am afraid I am not ready for such a long-term commitment just yet.”
“But we do not have to get married. If we only became engaged, they will not touch us. Can we not just… Pretend?” Erestor asked, hoping with all his might.
“Erestor… you ask for much. Even if we do not end up married, they shall still hold the same power over you. Regretful though it may be, I fear the best path for us is to continue on as we have done and trust that we are strong enough to survive any and all conditions. I know you will not find this very comforting, but I know you agree that it is the right course, do you not?” Natahl spoke kindly, but Erestor cared not for the tone.
“And you think it is right that they walk all over us and never suffer the consequences?” Erestor seethed.
“Of course not, but I am just one person, I cannot save everyone,” Natahl reasoned.
“But you could save *me*!” Erestor hissed.
“Sorry Erestor, but I will not play the role,” Natahl said flatly. “You could always sail…”
Erestor’s eyes widened and he glared at Natahl. Without saying a word he leapt out of bed and left the Healing House before the soldier knew what was happening. Stomping through the halls Erestor wandered for almost an hour before he realised he had no real destination. Not knowing what else to do, he went to his office and there Erestor worked until late in the day, distracting himself with work so he would not perceive the passage of time as much as usual. But that did not stop his stomach from clenching in fear and hatred as the dinner hour approached, or his hands from shaking when he gripped his quill.
Throwing the feather down, Erestor left his office, still trying to ponder a way out of his dilemma, and walked to his room. Deciding his stomach would not be able to handle any food he skipped dinner and instead tried to prepare himself for what would await him in just over an hour’s time. Lifting up his robe, Erestor pulled down his leggings and ever so carefully pulled the object within him out. Since he had not oiled himself in over a day, it was uncomfortable but not painful. Picking up the almost empty jar of oil, Erestor slathered himself with a generous amount and carefully stretched his opening a little more. The sensitive entrance, after so much constant use, had been forced open so much that Erestor could now comfortably fit four of his slender fingers in without any pain. He just hoped it would be enough to accommodate Galshor’s girth. But if the Lord was built anything like Glorfindel… Erestor doubted he would be able to stay conscious if plunged with such a large cock.
Changing into his oldest pair of leggings and shirt, Erestor left his room and headed for the kitchens. Sneaking into a cellar he found an almost empty bottle of the strongest liquor he could find and guzzled all of it. Putting the bottle on a bench near the door, he then quietly left the kitchens and went to the House of the Tree. After asking for directions from some soldiers, he made his way to Lord Galshor’s rooms.
Standing in front of the ominously large doors, Erestor took three deep breaths and then, with a shaking hand, knocked on the wood. He stood for almost a minute and in that time, hope rose within his chest that mayhap the lord had forgotten and was not home. But his heart plummeted when clinking could be heard behind the doors and finally the heavy wood was dragged open with a soldier on each side, struggling to pull the doors forth. Erestor gulped and tried to stop himself from shaking so noticeably.
Just inside the entryway stood an elf. From his attire Erestor assumed he was a servant, but could not tell for sure.
“Follow me,” he stated then turned around walked away.
Erestor fell into place behind the elf and followed him through the main room and into the dining area. They passed through there and continued into a semi-formal entertaining room. Pulling aside a tapestry, the servant exposed a secret door and opened it. He entered the dark hallway and Erestor, his pulse quickening with each second, proceeded a moment after. There were no torches lit in the passageway, so Erestor ran his hands along the narrow walls, trying to feel for any changes in direction. The hallway itself was not very long but it twisted several times so the light at the end could not be seen from the entrance. As his hands guided the way, Erestor felt the floor dip and realised he was being taken underground. Without realising, his hands became slick on the walls, his sweat drenching the stone surrounding him.
Light shone brightly into Erestor’s eyes as he exited and found himself in a very large room with just about every piece of furniture an entire house would need. The room had yellow walls, furnished with expensive, mostly gold coloured items. At the far end there was a bed, over to the right was a large table, able to seat eight people easily, the left side was kept bare except for cushions scattered on the ground and in front of him was a lounging area with couches and arm chairs. Erestor jumped as he realised sitting in the middle of the couch was Lord Galshor, wearing a gold dressing gown, tied loosely at the waist and casually kept open at the chest. His legs were crossed and his hands were resting on his knees, cupping a glass of wine.
“Leave,” Galshor merely said. Erestor was about to turn himself when the elf in front of him bowed and turned, sending Erestor an unfriendly smirk as he left the room. The door behind Erestor closed with a definable ‘click’ and the scribe’s stomach lurched at the sound. “Do you like how I have decorated?”
Erestor looked at Galshor blankly, the odd question clearly unerring the scribe. Glancing around the room again he saw sparkles of gold glinting off every surface, almost blinding him to the furniture he had missed the first time. Amongst the normal household furniture were pieces of a less friendly nature. Peeking from between the cushions on the floor were chains and heavy locks bolted to the floor. Against the wall near the bed, almost completely hidden by the canopy, was a giant ‘X’ shaped structure with bindings at the ends. Under the table, Erestor could see a few metal bars and could only assume a small cage was kept under there. Looking beyond that, a rack with all kinds of whips, bindings and penetrating devices lay.
Gulping again, Erestor’s chest began heaving and without realising, he took a few steps back, wanting only to get the hell out of the room and Galshor’s company.
“I can tell from your reaction that it has the exact effect on people I was hoping it would,” Galshor smirked, gaining Erestor’s attention again.
“OH? Am I the first to see it?” Erestor nervously asked, his voice shaking.
Galshor laughed.
“Heavens no. But it has been so long since I’ve had fresh bait down here.”
Erestor’s skin went cold and he looked along the walls again. More odd instruments and shelves jumped out at him, but the one thing he was wishing for could not be seen.
“There are no windows, if that is what you are searching for. No, we are far deeper underground than you could possibly imagine. You can scream your heart out down here and no one will ever know.”
Erestor’s eyes widened and he looked at Galshor, knowing nothing but fear was etched into his features. Suddenly Erestor’s stomach lurched and his whole upper body heaved as though he was about to be sick. Thankfully, since he had not eaten anything all day, nothing came actually threatened to come hurtling out his mouth, but he gasped and coughed for several minutes. Straightening up again, Erestor tried to focus his eyes on Galshor, but the vision of the lord swam in front of him.
“Strip,” Galshor ordered. Erestor’s fingers, feeling as heavy as boulders, slowly moved up to the ties at his throat and tried to grasp the cord so he could loosen the garment. His blood ran thick below the surface of his skin, making the joints hard to bend and he uncharacteristically clumsily undid the lacings far enough for his head to fit through. Grasping the bottom of his shirt, Erestor pulled it off and purposely leant forwards so his hair would drape around his shoulders, hiding some of his body from sight. He then proceeded to fold his shirt and lay it neatly on a chair by his side. Pulling off his small boots, he placed them under the chair. Expecting to have been told off by now, Erestor was surprised Galshor had said nothing but continued to sip casually at his drink. Standing straight, Erestor hesitated and looked at Galshor helplessly. The lord did not respond other than to raise his eyebrow. Erestor sighed, and with shaking hands he started to undo the lacings on his leggings, his vision once again blurring as he slowly pushed the material down his slim, pale legs.
Galshor’s top eyelids drooped lustfully as he watched more of the light skin being revealed. Erestor stumbled as he stepped out of the leggings but thankfully did not fall. He folded his pants and laid them on top of his discarded shirt. Turning back to Galshor, he averted his eyes and did all he could to stop the blush threatening to break out all over his body.
With every passing second he could feel Galshor’s eyes roaming all over his body, leaving no part untouched. Erestor shivered in disgust as he felt waves of lust flowing forth from the lord’s body.
“Move your hair away and keep your hands at your side,” Galshor ordered, his voice steady, but deeper than usual. Erestor almost jumped when he realised he had unknowingly kept his hands in front of his penis. Hesitantly he moved them away and ran his fingers through his hair as he styled all of it behind his shoulders. As he forced himself to keep his hands by his side, he felt his body beginning to sway on the spot. Feeling something trickle down his face, Erestor wiped at it with a hand and looking at his palm realised he was sweating profusely. Taking a few deep breaths, Erestor tried to calm himself, but Galshor’s next words thwarted his efforts.
“You truly are delectable… I almost wish I had you all to myself. What do you think, gentlemen?” Galshor asked loudly. Erestor frowned but movement around the room caught his attention. From behind furniture and hidden archways, three figures came into view. Erestor’s heart pounded in his chest and his face lost all colour as he recognised Ecthelion, Ecthelion’s father and Glorfindel’s father all leering at him. Erestor’s breathing sped up and he panted loudly in the large room. Every instinct in his body told him to run and on impulse, he took two steps back.
“Oh, I dare say he can foretell what we are going to do to him,” Ecthelion smiled sadistically and pulled forth a whip with steel ends from behind him and held it almost lovingly.
Erestor, feeling his body losing its grasp on reality again, stepped back further and just as he was about to turn to run to the door, two arms engulfed him from behind.
“Uh-uh, Tonight will go a lot easier for you if you behave,” Galdor said, his lips right on Erestor’s ear. Erestor was so shocked he couldn’t even feel Galdor’s hands running all over his chest and stomach. Erestor watched, standing limply in the lord’s arms as Galshor finally put down his glass and stood. He and the other lords began walking slowly towards the two elves by the door. Just as Galshor came within arm’s reach, Erestor finally gave in to his body and the world went black.
~*~
Erestor could hear voices nearby, though they were muffled. As he tried to concentrate, the words became clearer and the speakers more distinct. Light could be seen behind his eyelids but he dared not open them just yet. Trying to grasp the situation now, he felt a cold, hard surface beneath his chest, which lay horizontally, but his legs remained vertical and he could feel his feet resting on the stone floor. If he had to guess, Erestor supposed he had been leant across the table, but had no desire to look.
“Who shall have him first?” a voice asked.
“I think it is obvious, is it not? I am the one who lured him here, so it should be me,” Galshor said.
“It was my idea, father,” Galdor spoke sternly.
“Yes, but you had not planned for it to occur for another week yet. I took charge of fortuitous events and used them for this purpose. It will be me. And, sorry, old friend, but Glorfindel is your son and through his bidding it has been impossible to have Erestor until now, so we shall punish you by making you wait until last. That should teach you for having such a wilful offspring.”
“I expected as much,” the Lord of the Golden flower said demurely.
“I have a better idea,” Ecthelion spoke up. “Three days ago my sword broke and I requested to use Glorfindel’s. I still have it,” he pull the weapon from its sheath. “As you can see, Glorfindel’s hands are quite large so the handle is thicker than most. I think it would be rather fitting if we used this on his sweet scribe before we start bickering over who shall penetrate him first.” Ecthelion lightly held the blade and showed everyone present the girth of the hilt. Erestor cracked open an eye slightly and after the glare of the light dissipated, he could see how large the object was. He suppressed the shudder threatening to run the length of his spine upon seeing the sword’s handgrip was far larger than anything that had been inside him yet. If he had to guess, it was also far bigger than Glorfindel’s member. Swallowing shallowly, he watched as Ecthelion closed his fist and held it up against the handle. The hilt was only marginally smaller.
“A fine suggestion, son. I agree,” Ecthelion’s father said. Looking at the other lords, he waited and smiled as one by one they all agreed. “Who would like to do the honours?”
“I shall,” Galdor spoke quickly and eagerly grasped the sword.
“Allow me to assist,” Galshor offered.
Erestor then felt two hands slide over his buttocks and he jumped at the unexpected touch. There was a sound of clinking metal as Erestor did so, and expanding his mind to discover the source of it, realised his ankles were shackled and no doubt, bolted to the floor.
“Oh! I would say our guest is awake,” a voice said happily. A hand harshly pulled Erestor’s hair and turned the scribe’s face towards him. “Just in time,” a malevolent smile plastered on the lord’s face.
Erestor suddenly felt hands all over his body, pinching and groping his skin harshly. Erestor tried to pull away but realised his hands had been bound to the table and could only move a small amount or risk breaking his wrists.
“How about a little foreplay?” Glorfindel’s father asked and held up a whip.
“Sounds delightful,” Galshor replied and everyone took a step back.
A few moments later, a loud crack rent through the air and pain exploded across Erestor’s lower back and bottom. The scribe tried to not make a sound, but the strike was far worse than he anticipated and shouted out. His torturer waited five seconds before he struck again and Erestor found he could not hold back his voice again.
By the fifteenth stroke, the other lords demanded a turn. The power behind the whip remained fairly constant between all of them, except for Galdor. Ever the vicious personality, he struck Erestor with all his might, breaking the skin on his first hit. Erestor’s hoarse voice found new life and his scream echoed throughout the room. After five, horrendously painful strokes, Galdor threw the whip aside. Erestor sighed in relief but his back, buttocks and legs felt as though they were on fire.
“I have warmed up plenty. Shall we move on to the main event?” he asked. Everyone must have agreed because suddenly hands were on his body once more. Erestor hissed as his abused flesh was harshly touched.
Galshor smacked his cheeks a few times and Erestor tried to twist away but the lord was not deterred. After a moment, the lord eagerly pulled Erestor’s cheeks apart, revealing his puckered entrance.
“Oh, looks like someone came prepared,” he half teased.
“Good, then I shan’t need any oil on this,” Galdor said, holding the sword once more. “Though, if Glorfindel has had this elf these past few month all to himself, then he cannot be as big as he has always claimed,” Galdor said, looking at the swollen but still tight entrance.
Erestor, his mind ridden with fear and pain, leapt at the chance to appeal to the lord’s better nature.
“He hasn’t had me!” Erestor said, his voice quivering in panic.
“Oh, you’re a virgin? I find it hard to believe that Glorfindel could have left you untouched all this time,” Ecthelion scoffed.
“It is true! He has been using toys to loosen me but he has not yet taken me!” Erestor tried.
“What a pity, for you and for him,” Galdor said condescendingly and immediately placed the hilt of the sword against Erestor’s entrance.
Once again, Erestor tried twisting away but strong hands kept him in place. Tears began to flow uncontrollably from his eyes and his chest heaved several times as he half vomited, half sobbed.
Galshor cruelly began twisting the sword and Erestor cried out at the movement. The young lord simply rotated the blade but did not apply any pressure. Erestor hiccoughed as he tried to gain some control. Galshor took advantage and sharply pushed the item forth. The holler that was torn from Erestor echoed around the room and all the lords fell back a step and covered their ears. Galshor removed the tip of the hilt from Erestor, but that did not stop the inhuman wail that filled the room. Ecthelion stepped forward and grasped Erestor’s throat, cutting off the scribe’s air. Erestor choked and coughed as the strong hand crushed his neck.
Meanwhile, Galdor observed the damage done and noted with some satisfaction the trickle of blood now flowing down Erestor’s leg. And that was just from the first few centimetres.
“Now be quiet or I will never let go!” Ecthelion demanded and harshly shoved Erestor to the side as he released his hold. Erestor coughed and gasped as oxygen rushed back into his lungs.
“Maybe we should get a gag?” Galshor suggested.
“Indeed, and I know just the one,” Glorfindel’s father said triumphantly. Walking to the nearest rack, he picked up a strap long enough to wrap around a person’s head, and in the centre of it appeared to be one of the penetrative objects Glorfindel had subjected Erestor to for the past two months. Erestor’s eyes widened upon seeing the muzzle and he began squirming again.
“No, please no… not that. Not the sword. Anything but that, please,” he begged, but his throat was once again constricted.
“I told you to be quiet,” Ecthelion seethed, and held Erestor’s head steady for the gag to be put into place. As the cylindrical tipped object neared Erestor’s mouth, Ecthelion heard the scribe whisper something despairingly, but thought nothing of it. Erestor’s mouth was forced open as the hard object slid down his constricted and dry throat. He retched as his gag reflex was initiated, but he could not open his mouth any wider around the artificial cock. The strap was buckled into place around his head and Erestor’s panic levels elevated just when he thought they could go no higher. Trying to draw breath in his current state was near impossible. His throat was dry and obstructed, his windpipe inflamed and his nose was running uncontrollably. His legs strained against their bonds as his whole body contorted.
“Shall we continue then?” Galdor asked eagerly. Erestor let out a high pitched whine and frantically shook his head from side to side, but no one took any notice. Once again everyone took their positions and the hilt rested against his opening once more. Erestor wailed again and clenched his hands in frustration.
“Oh Erestor, you should be thankful I am not using the other end. And do not think that that notion has not been contemplated,” Galdor soothed sarcastically. With a sharp jolt, the soldier slammed the hilt inside Erestor’s tiny frame.
Not for the first time that night, nor indeed the last, Erestor fell into darkness once more.
TBC
Parmasambe
Library of Imladris
Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. No money is being made from this work. No copyright infringement is intended.