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(Written by request for Cathleen: "Here's my request: Eglantine's thoughts as she holds the newborn son she thought she'd never have."
His cries were weak. He was red and wrinkled. But here he was, curls as soft and fine as downfeathers on head and feet. Mistress Poppy cut the cord, and now she brought the blanket wrapped bundle to place in Eglantine’s arms.
Would he thrive? She looked at him and lost her heart. At last, her lad, her Peregrin…
(* A/N: The title came from what my mother said when my brother was born: "It was worth it all.")
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