The end unexpected

At the gate his father clapped him on the shoulder with a gnarled, weathered hand.  “Son,” he said, “you know I don’t approve.  The Light knows I can’t trust the other boys to take over the pig farm when I’m gone—they’ll probably sell it to those damn butchers on the other side of the family.  But as my own pappy used to say, when the piglets escape through a hole in the fence, you just have to trust that they’ll come back before a wolf gets them.  So that’s what I’m going to do with you.  I’m going to trust you’ll come home before a wolf gets you.  Or a bear.  Or one of them other weird creatures out there.”

Struggling to keep the quaver out of his voice, Bert answered, “Thanks, Pa.  That’s very decent of you.”

“Good boy.  Oh, and wait.”  His father began fussing with a bulky burlap bag.  “I didn’t want to send you away empty-handed against the orcs, so take this.  Whenever you use it, think of us.  And the pigs.  They’ll be missing you, too.”

From the sack Bert’s father produced a battered dustbin lid—the one, judging from its smell, that had been used to cover the dung.  He handed it to Bert.

“No, Pa, it’s too much-"

“You take it, son.  We’ll just cover the bin with one of Ed’s old sweaters."

Bert nodded, his eyes brimming with tears.  “I’ll use it with pride, Pa.”

“The Light bless you, son.  Now off you get.  We’ll be here waiting for you when you’re done killing orcs.”

Overcome with emotion, and clutching his dustbin lid, Bert opened the pasture gate.  He could hear his father start shuffling back down the road to the family farm as Bert himself stepped into a brave new world.  Determination, glory, and destiny would be his only constants now.

Five years later he was found dancing naked in a pub in Goldshire.