The Twelve Days of Tolkien - Drabble Series

On the second day of Christmas, my dear muse sent to me
Arwen’s sad tears

They walked in silence together. Strange, now they no longer had forever to speak, that no words came. Elrond’s eyes never left Arwen, gathering every precious detail to hoard for all eternity. To his eyes she appeared pale and wan, and it seemed that some of the brilliance had faded out of her grey eyes.

Tears glittered in those silvery pools now, and Elrond could not bear it; this fair face was not meant for sadness.

“Do not cry, “ he said, reaching out to touch Arwen’s cheek.

His own were wet with the first tears in five hundred years.