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Written for Meril's (Allie's) birthday.
Kneeling in the dirt, the dark-haired man slowly pulled at the tangle of weeds. Above his bowed head, blood-red flowers nodded in the breeze.
“He has been out of bed for only two days. Fetch him in ere he does himself harm.”
“Leave him be, Ragnor. I have been dosing him with poppies for a week; else he stares at the lamp and does not sleep. Let him pull the weeds. At times, it is better to work than to think. “
Shaking his head doubtfully, Ragnor held his peace.
Later, they found Lord Faramir, under the poppies, fast asleep.
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