Where There's Life, There's Hope (and in need of vittles)
All through the night Aragorn labored, healing the sick or hurt of body or heart, until he thought his own heart should break of it.
And when he could bear no more, he cast his cloak about him, and was about to slip out of the city when the first whisper of the morning breeze lifted his hair. And out of that breeze came a fragrance so unexpected, so brimming with life and hope, that he laughed aloud for joy at the courage and resilience of the people of his city.
Up in the Citadel kitchen, Mag was baking bread.
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Written for the "Sense of Smell" challenge at tolkien_weekly
2007 MEFA Award Winner: Second Place in Genres: Drama: Gondor Drabble