Seeing smoke within the temple was not just an oddity, it was almost an impossibility. The entire building, on top of being subterranean, was built almost solely of marble. What little there was that was flammable was mostly books and scrolls.
Considering that the storeroom was several branches down the corridor, Azzanadra felt quite secure that his precious documents were not currently ablaze. As a matter of fact, the coiling drifts of smoke were creeping out from the door to one of the bedrooms. With a sigh, he knocked lightly on the door.
"Let me in, Wahisietel, before I make a nuisance of myself and come in anyway. If nothing else, you are going to poison the girls." His voice was even, but tinted at the edges with amusement. He counted to himself, and got to seven before a rather less jovial voice replied.
"Mmph. Fine."
That was as close to a ringing welcome as he was going to get in the circumstances.
Azzanadra opened the door, writhing black plumes pouring out past his ankles. He could barely make out anything within the room, but his senses told him loud and clear that Wahisietel was there. Someone had to be making all this mess.
He stepped further in, waving a hand to clear the air around himself, and eventually found a lump that turned out to be a chair. Settling in, he stared in Wahisietel's direction.
"What is all of this, Wahisietel? What has gotten on your nerves so?" he asked.
This was met with another displeased grunt. The smoke pushed at the boundary of clean air around Azzanadra, already threatening to flood it again. Within the mass, shapes melted in and out of visibility; the suggestion of a frown, or perhaps a bundle of wavering lines that could have been claws.
"Who are you trying to intimidate here, hm?" The high priest began. "I am here to speak with you, not to try and derive a meaning from your silence." Once more he forced the smoke away from himself, this time far enough to make a point.
Gradually the room cleared. Fingers of oily black retreated from where they'd crept into the hallway, and the invasive tendrils curled in on themselves over and over until nothing was left except for a densely-packed ball floating in Wahisietel's hand.
Wahisietel glared at his compatriot and clenched his fist shut around the sphere of magic. A sound like chiming glass, muffled by his glove, and then he dropped a tiny, glittering gem to the ground. Its grey depths swirled hypnotically.
"Better?" He growled.
"Much." Replied Azzanadra breezily. He leant forward, arms on his knees, hands supporting his chin. "What is the matter? You only try to suffocate the general area like this when something is stressing you deeply, old friend."
The pale mahjarrat glowered sullenly at the floor, one fist grasping aimlessly at the arm of his chair. He waved his free hand a few times, snuffling wordlessly. Eventually he mustered his voice again.
"The same thing it was last time, Azzanadra, and the time before that. I spend too much time in my own company." He gritted his fangs, unseen. "I thought I was done having to watch meekly while those in my life suffer."
Azzanadra scoffed.
"You truly are in a mood to be speaking like that. Which part of this arrangement consists of you sitting by and doing nothing, Wahisietel?" Azzanadra rolled his violet eyes. "I have impeccable timing, apparently. You would have gone on moping for a week had I not interrupted, I wager."
Wahisietel snarled, green eyes glinting dangerously.
"Remind me," he spat, "are you here to comfort me or rub it in further? I fear I can't tell."
His only response was a grin.
"There you go. Anger is better than being stuck in memories, isn't it?"
Now it was Wahisietel's turn to scoff, a sound halfway between offense and incredulity.
"I can't believe you still think that is an appropriate way to pull me out of a mood. I can't believe it still works."
There was a deep rumble of laughter from Azzanadra, and he leaned back in his chair, apparently satisfied with his work. He folded his hands in his lap.
"I see no reason to let go of a method that is so successful. At least now I am getting something sensible out of you." His voice softened. "I am sorry that your thoughts weigh on you so. There is little I can do for that except be here."
Wahisietel gave another noise of derision, though afterwards he gave Azzanadra a sideways look. He held it for several moments, expression closed, then broke the silence with a chuff.
"Oh, come here already. You and I both know that's why you came."
"Hah! So forthright. And I am viewed as the forward one." Azzanadra grinned again, all mirth, and stood up. He walked over to take Wahisietel's outstretched hand, and tugged gently at him.
"I can't hold you if you're going to stay slumped in your chair. At least sit with me." he said, nodding over his shoulder to the bed behind him.
"Yes, yes, what do you take me for? I'm going." Wahisietel stood up, groaning somewhat theatrically, and shoved at Azzanadra's shoulder. "Get rid of all that first."
The grin changed to a smirk.
"Why of course." Azzanadra began. "What do you take me for?" He waited until Wahisietel sunk ungracefully onto the bed, then carefully unlatched all of his armour. The offending pieces were placed unceremoniously on the floor, and the pontiff joined his friend.
Immediately Wahisietel leaned against him, grumbling in generalised complaint. Another second more and he had latched on to Azzanadra's shoulders, fangs betraying the stress that still lingered. His partner didn't flinch, and instead looped his arms around Wahisietel's back.
"Let us not think about such things now." Azzanadra traced light circles on Wahisietel's back, then followed the curve of his spine, tracing each scale individually. The rounded ridges didn't have much movement in them to begin with, but he could feel how closed they were now.
Gradually, he filled the quietness between them with a soft rumble, a sound that was felt more than heard. Wahisietel's grip lightened, and eventually he let go entirely to simply rest against Azzanadra, exhausted.
"Keep doing that. I love your voice."
"I love yours."
"Hah. You've always told me. My accent specifically, hmm?"
"Quite, Wahisietel. It is still audible even after all these years."
"You would notice it most..."
In lieu of a spoken reply, Azzanadra leaned in and nipped lightly at Wahisietel's neck, replacing fangs with a kiss a moment later.
For the first time, Wahisietel's posture eased, and he finally expressed his contentment; a sound translated into a purr by his high-pitched voice. He lifted his arms and returned the embrace, followed by a much more cheerful bite than before.
Shortly after he spoke, letting go and leaning against Azzanadra's shoulder with eyes closed.
"Thank you for taking notice of me. I do love you so."
"It is the very least I can do for you, Wahisietel. I owe you all the comfort my company can give."
"Oh, don't say it like that... you make it sound as if I'm forcing you."
"Let me make it abundantly clear, then, that you are not." Azzanadra moved back enough to create space between them, and pressed his forehead to Wahisietel's, gems aligned.
"I love you as well."