#87 On My Own

Elrond looked at the empty spot in his bed next to him. Celebrían sailed earlier that day and tonight was the first night of many to come in which he would be without his mate. His best friend. The love of his life. Elrond tried to fight the tears threatening to fall once again, but alas it was to no avail. He just let them spill as he curled up in the spot that used to be his wife's and held her pillow close to him as he inhaled her sweet scent.

He was on his own now. Sure, his children were still in Middle Earth, but they were not in Rivendell with him. Elladan and Elrohir took to hunting down orcs to avenge their mother, and Arwen decided not to return to Rivendell. Instead, she was staying in Lothlórien. Elrond had no one. He was left to heal on his own, without his wife by his side.

It didn't matter. He was used to his loved ones leaving him. Abandoning him. They always left. His parents, then his brother Elros, his foster father, Gil-galad, now his wife. Why couldn't just one person whom he loved stay with him? Elrond cried harder until his body wracked uncontrollably. He was on his own in the past, and he would continue to be on his own until his last dying day. It was his fate; he might as well get used to it and accept it.