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Title – Willing Hands Rating: G The rain clouds drew ever closer, their grey plumes like angry warhorses about to charge, trampling the grain. The harvesters quickened their pace. Faramir bound the twine securely around another sheaf of wheat. He looked up and beheld the King walking across the field towards him. “I did not expect to see you here, sire.” Faramir exclaimed in surprise. Aragorn smiled. “I grow weary of sitting at a desk, my friend. I have laboured over sheaves of paper all morning, this afternoon I would liefer choose wheat. Why should the king stand idle when the harvest is ripe for gathering?" A/n Written for the "Tolkien Weekly" Prompt "Sheaf". |
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