#celegorm and curufin
REQUEST HEADCANONS WITH ANY ELF/ANY IDEA
- It was a clear spring morning when you stepped up to the dais, lowering your head and feeling the cold metal lain to rest on your head. The Crown of Nargothrond had chosen a worthy bearer, and the new Queen was crowned.
- In the early days, you and Finrod were so busy, you barely saw each other save a few hours in the night. There was just so much to do - the building plans, rations, settling everyone in, organizing the defenses.
- But that didn’t stop him from folding you into his arms every single night, whispering sweet nothings and poems from Valinor in your ear.
- That became a tradition of yours. Every night, you and Finrod would do that, a sweet melody of words just for the two of you, and every night, it was always something new.
- Any king would need an heir, and Finrod was no different. But it wasn’t out of duty or honor. It was out of love that the two of you bore a child. A little, golden haired son like his father was first, and his little brother followed some years later.
- The Feanorians put blood and passion and duty first. The descendants of Fingolfin and the like put honor and valiance and the familial name first. Finrod, on the other hand, put love first. You saw it every day - the love for his kingdom, for every individual citizen, and of course, his new family. That was the jewel in his crown, and he didn’t want for more.
- That your children loved their father would be an understatement. They absolutely adored him, and it wasn’t hard to see why. He was utterly devoted to them, teaching them everything he knew, handling them with the utmost delicacy, taking them for long detours in the forest, pointing out the beauty of the land and comparing it to the beauty of the forests.
- It wasn’t long before the two of you conceived again, and that was when the stranger walked in. His name was Beren, he said, and would the great king of Nargothrond help him on his quest?
- Finrod said yes. You’d expected it with a heavy heart. He was a good man, too good for the happenings of Middle Earth. He was understandably torn, realizing that every time he embraced you or the children, it was potentially the last time. And what kind of father would he be if he wasn’t even there for the birth of his third one?
- But in the end, with a heavy heart, he left, and you watched the sunset for hours, trying in vain to catch sight of his receding figure.
- Orodreth tried to rule, he really did. But it was no match for Celegorm and Curufin, who were the real powers behind the throne. Even you, the great and beautiful queen of Nargothrond, was no match for the silvery tongue of the silvery haired Feanorian.
- Your third son never saw his father. At least the oldest two had memories of him.
- You never saw Finrod again either, until centuries later. The fires from the fall of Nargothrond still unfaded from your mind, you stepped on the docks of Valinor, cleansing the pain from your soul.
- And there, you saw him.
- No one had really expected the eldest Feanorian to ever marry
- Not only did he have crushing responsibilities, but few thought he would ever truly open up his heart to someone else
- But when he did, the elven lands were in uproar with excitement. This was a speck of good news - of celebration, during darker times
- The wedding ceremony was lavish, with all the elven leaders present. After all, a queen was being crowned
- A few mortal kings and warriors were in attendance as well. The crowning of an elven queen could happen only every few thousand years. Their stories of what they saw would be passed down in their kingdoms for generations
- Your flowing robes were embedded with thousands of tiny crystals, glowing and sparkling in the sun. When you moved, it looked like pure sunlight had surrounded you and was following you
- You were crowned with a circlet of rubies, crafted by Curufin, and said by storytellers of old to have contained fire for that was how bright they shone
- But your appreciation for these material things paled in comparison to the real reason you were there. Love.
- Because finally, after countless years, you were marrying the one man you truly loved, and that man could hardly believe that you were willing to open up your heart to him
- Being the Queen of Himring wasn’t without its troubles. When Morgoth burst forth in Nirnaeth Arnoediad, and the kingdom’s king was leading the soldiers onto the battlefield, you, the queen, played your part, helping Himring stay strong, extending a hand of sanctuary to those who needed it. The people looked to you for guidance, and you gave your heart, your body, your soul.
- And when your fortress was forsaken after the crushing, bloody battles, the you led your people to safety, remaining steadfast at Maedhros’s side, the ruby crown visible to all who followed.
- Your husband couldn’t deny his crippling guilt. He had made you, the love of his life, a queen without a kingdom. Many a night, the two of you whispered to each other in the dark, made love by candlelight, dressed each other’s wounds, and only thought of each other as the storms raged outside.
- And when he died, killed by the roaring flames and the jump of his own doing, you followed in your own way. You led your people to their final sanctuary, the place where they’d finally be safe, and you declared your mission complete.
- All that marked the place where a great queen of beauty, strength, and terrible loss was a thin layer of silvery leaves and a twisted piece of metal that once would have been a ruby crown.
