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... the bloodstains out of it, brought it to peasant women who washed it with lye and sewed... King. Peredur was twenty-seven, and already the troubles that came with middle-age had reached him; his teeth were poor and few, and sometimes his fingers...it shone and all the tiny stitches the peasant women had made, and all the wide stitches... the world. I have just given my life for you.” “No! You’re the one ...

http://community.livejournal.com/arthurian_fic/5620.html
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Published: 1 year, 10 months ago (Sun, 26 Aug 2007 21:39:48 PDT); 15 Kb
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