Harvest by mistrali

Harvest

Nienna harvests the Eldar's cares and sorrows, takes their grief upon herself. She bears her burdens without question. Her patience, her faith in the order of things, unnerves Olórin.

"You are like one of Oromë's foals," she tells him once, touching his shoulder as if to stay him. "Always champing at your restraints, forever wandering from where you were set. You must stop this restlessness, child, and learn to wait."

Waiting chafes me, he wants to say. "But mistress, I have not your wisdom."

"Plant a sapling, then; see how it flourishes with care, and wilts when it is hurried."