Maglor was never docile, and perhaps that is the trouble. He was the quiet one of the seven, but although no Feanorion could ever be called docile, he is now; a quiet, subdued presence, like a wild horse whose spirit has been thoroughly broken, even as he nods and follows.

(He is dying. Slowly, by tiny, incremental degrees. So slow that the centuries pass without anyone noticing any change. But his spirit was broken, long ago, and it isn't healing. That he has held on so long is something of a miracle, a testament, perhaps, to those who have loved him enough to try and fight for him to stay, but the Feanorions were also, always, very stubborn)

"You were always taller than me Uncle. It seems strange for you to be so... short."