The big day has finally come; and anyone who ventures to Fëanor's gardens will find them decorated with long garlands of flowers - forget-me-nots, golden elanor and violets, by request of Armand and Chris - entwined with some of the small light-stones of Fëanor's making. Beneath the budding trees, long tables have been set, decorated with the same
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"Admiral. Hello." He eyes the crate interestedly. "What are you bringing there?"
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He raises an eyebrow. "Yes, that's what that scrub is called. Very well. Let's bring them there until they're needed, then."
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