#maglor headcannon
- 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.
