In a way, Maglor already had. What had once been the elf was now but a small, nearly insignificant part of a nation. Only influential in France's actions when they truely agreed. The rest of the time, France was far more like Maglor's father on bad days.

The fingers tugging Maglor's hair gentle and France cups his nephew's cheek again. Affectionate and caring.

"I will stay as long as I can." That was a promise he could make, and did so gladly. "If I fade, perhaps memories will bring me back with your song." Like the Roman Empire, who'd vanished, but just kept coming back at the strangest times.