Maglor didn't need to say what he'd been doing. France could guess well enough, and sent his nephew a proud, if sad, little smile. "Perhaps you could write to his son. Talk to him of more than just our family."

He nodded in understanding. And frowned faintly at the mention of Mirkwood. "I regret not having paid Mirkwood a visit." Ever. It hadn't occurred to him. Who else of the old world should he have hunted down to speak with, but hadn't?

He would have to fix that, and hope the ancient nation would forgive the terrible over-sight in time. "Men need their romance," he murmured dryly. "And controvercy."