Lucifer stopped short, staring down at the feather before him, a vivid violet color, and bent to pick it up. It was as soft as a petal of a flower, and he ran his finger over the edge and watched the vanes part as he stroked the edge. He knew who this feather belonged to, he knew it like he knew the palm of his hand, and he set his first year books aside as he was overcome by a new mission and he stepped out of his office, closing the door behind him softly. He smiled as he passed his younger choir members in the hall, shaking his head fondly as they darted passed him to their elders for their classes, heading for The Choir's rehearsal room, where he knew that the owner of the feather would be.

Pushing the sliding door open, he stood in the doorway, just to simply watch him. He sat at the piano, playing a tune of his own making, the muscles of his shoulders twitching every so often, and he pushed and pulled to the rhythm.

He smiled, looking down as he stepped into the room, as silent as the night was still, and came to stand behind him. Rubbing his hands over his upper back, massaging his fingers into his shoulders, the piano came to an off beat cut off.

"You must be in such discomfort." He held the feather out for him to see, a shaking hand reached up to take it, twirling it before their eyes for a moment, and closed it within a tight fist. A shaking voice whispered softly in his ear. "They're falling out."

Lucifer frowned, brushing his hand over his dirty blonde hair, pulling his head back into his stomach so they could meet each other's gazes. "They'll grow back again. You're just going through a molt." It dawned on him a moment later. "It's your first molt after having your wings healed, isn't it 'Miah?"

The calm and collected, some might even say 'mellow', choir elder gave a soft whine at the sight of the feather. "Luci, they're falling out."

He hummed softly. "Hey." And ran the fingers of his left hand down his neck. "Hey, look at me, I know they're falling out Jeremiah, I know they are." The Morningstar smiled down at him gently. "But it's just because you're molting them. They're going to grow back. New and vivid."

Jeremiah nodded, absorbing his words for what they were worth, nodding more feverishly as if assuring himself. His archangel rubbed his cheek with his thumb, and he looked back up into those ice blue eyes, they shined in fond amusement.

"Do you want me to groom your wings?"

He thought on it a moment and nodded. "Yes. Yes, that would be nice."

"They must itch."

Jeremiah rolled his shoulders. "They do. And they ache."

"Would you like me to scratch them for you?" he stroked a finger down his throat. "I could rub away the ache."

The choir elder nodded. "I'd like that. I'd like that a lot."

Lucifer smiled, tugged on his shoulder lightly, nodding towards the door. "Come on then. Let's go find a place to stretch out." Jeremiah stands quickly, no angel can deny the offer of having someone groom their wings, especially during a molt, and especially when that other angel was one of the archangels.

The archangel chuckled at the excitement, pulling him into his side when he meets him there, and turns them in the direction of the large sliding doors. Fellow choir angels smile at them as they pass, and they return the gesture in kind, walking side by side down to the entrance of the Pantheon.

Jeremiah look up at him in confusion. "Where are we going?"

"To the Villa."

"The archangels Villa?"

Lucifer laughed softly. "Do you know of any other Villa's."

He shakes his head, staring in awe as they approach the gate that opens up to the path that led up to The Villa, taking everything in there was to see. Lucifer opened the screen door for him, gesturing for him to enter first, and he steps in cautiously. Hands curl over his shoulders as the archangel steps up behind him

"This way."

He's led down the hall that contains the archangels bedrooms, and is turned into a large cool room, there's a big bed pushed up against a large window. The blankets are all made out, the bed done up nicely, pillows and a few stuffed animals litter the head of the bed. There's a desk on the far right wall and a wardrobe across from it. Lucifer guides him to the bed. "Take off your top and lay down."

"Lay down?"

He nods in amusement. "Yes, lay down."

Jeremiah nods his head absently, pulling his shirt over his head with shaking hands, and crawled forward to lay on the bed. He sighed, closing his eyes, the mattress was as plush as a cloud, the blankets as soft as silk. There was a faint chuckling behind him from the archangel, and the bed dipped as he climbed up to sit next to him, and a cool hand rubbed his back soothingly.

"Do you like my bed?"

The choir elder nodded softly, too comfortable to build up the energy to speak, and hummed softly when the hand began rubbing his back.

"I'm going to release your wings," he scratched lightly at his shoulders. "Alright?"

Jeremiah lay limp over the bed, his eyes closed, arms outstretched at his sides. "Mmmhm."

Lucifer smiles, waving his hand in a semi complicated manner, and vivid purple wings appeared in their current plane. He pulled the closest one down into his lap, scratching a few fingers up under the primaries, smiling at the light groan of comfort it pulls from his choir elder. He sifts through the feathers with the hand he's not using to scratch at the itchy skin under them, pulling the loose ones free and straightening the others, and once that job is done, he just sits back and scratches at the itchy skin.

"Does that feel good, 'Miah?"

The elder nods slightly, it's more of a jerk of his head, his eyes remaining closed. "Mhmm, more to the left, Luci." The Morningstar chuckles lightly and moves his hand. "Here, 'Miah?" the choir angel sighs deeply and jerks his head again. "Are you getting sleepy now?"

Jeremiah barely nods, not even a jerk, just a slight twitch.

"Then go to sleep, little mockingjay, take a good nap."

"Mmmm 'kay 'uci."