Moons had passed. The season changed. And the corpse blood's feathered companion still remained. No matter of magiks casted nor books read held an inkling of an answer. Where he caught in similar circumstances, he too would crack under such pressure. Only he would seek comfort within himself rather than another. Agravaine eased limbs around the other's smaller frame in an careful embrace. Engulfing him in a curtain of gold trimmed robes. Gradually he seeped into his own comfort. His hold not so stiff ridged ( as if he did not know how to hold another with care ) . Claws gently teasing through strands of hair thoughtlessly as Azariel was anchored in closer. He'd almost forgotten... That his touch could still possess a kindness. His hold did not always need to bruise the fruit. An art of affection he nigh lost to time and change.
@asangel It's been so long since someone held me.
And it felt as though EONS had passed since someone did the same for the Emperor. His silence went unbroken a moment longer. Simply basking in the warmth the other passed onto him. "... And it has been an age since another approached me so willingly."