Osse would get a similar treatment the next time France saw him.

The quiet humming from the kitchen might be a clue as to his whereabouts. An ancient song. Maybe he wasn't as good a singer as Maglor was, but he wasn't bad. Even now, some of that old skill had been lost with what he'd become, but he'd come to accept all the changes. He'd had to.

But cooking - ha, that had become a specialty. It helped him relax during stressful times. Even if the apron he wore just then was... a little ridiculous as it had been more of a gag gift from America. But it was precisely because it was from America that he kept it.

'Kiss the cook' indeed. Hmph. At least it was an attractive blue.