He does not wait at the shore. In his isolation, Karthus attends to what he does regardless of company - verse, contemplation, study, magic, composition. Once, he even ventured to the second island of the Isles, far from his church, just to break habit and observe the monastery.
Regrettably, the Shepherd would not speak with him.
Karthus ponders upon how spoiled for conversation he has become that he would grow restless in days of loneliness. He has been alone for a century before, and had planned for centuries beyond to exist with the same peace, madness and silence. Silence that the Choir could not fill - but not anything undesirable, or even terrible. It is fact that he had once accepted.
Vladimir's departure to Valoran was something he tried to delay. He left, and said he would return, and he will not admit that he has sulked, merely mourned his lover's absence. Time is not his to keep on the Shadow Isles - he does not know how many weeks, or even months it has been since Vladimir was in his company.
Karthus enjoys the stillness, the quiet. But his hands are restless. Long, inhuman fingers curl closed and open the same at his side, and when he rests them on an aged desk he drums something agitated.
Distantly, a door opens. Had he a heart, Karthus thinks it'd have stalled in his chest.
He drifts to the main chamber. The Mist rolls inside, from behind the legs of a human form, coiling with the spirits of the Choir who drift and hum through the hall. Vladimir steps inside, head aloft and grinning something bright when he looks at the lich he's taken to calling home.
Karthus lingers by the pulpit, body still. Vladimir takes long strides towards him, and he steps into the air to hold him, sweeping his waif-like form into an embrace.
"Don't look so shocked to see me," Vladimir says, holding Karthus to him close. He can feel Vladimir grin again his chest. "I told you I'd come back."
Those long, restless hands drag up Vladimir's back, holding him into his body. A smile's memory toys on Karthus, warm like a candle. "I had not doubted you, my love. I only grew tired in your absence - even I may dread your return would be postponed the longer you remained in your home nation."
Vladimir runs his hands up, holding Karthus by his jaw and cheeks. "Don't we have all the time in the world to wait for each other?"
"Had you spent even another day there, I would have arrived to steal you away."
Vladimir laughs. "They'd fight you to their last stand to keep you away from me."
"They would be my souls to claim, just to return you to me."
He pauses for a kiss - long, holding still until he feels Vladimir pull him in further, that he may press again his mouth and stay. Breath does not pass either of them, remaining close in their embrace until Vladimir's body suddenly grows heavy. He parts to glance down, noting he reaches for the floor.
He steps to his feet, boots on solid stone.
"I'm afraid you've yet to show me unlimited levitation," he notes, looking up to Karthus and leading him down, bending him a little closer. Karthus' arms remain half against him, trailing up from Vladimir's own.
Karthus smiles, serene. "I will show you, with our time together."