He'd never thought he'd be able to relax like this again. If somehow he'd been able to convince Castiel to let him stay out of Heaven's grasp, he'd prepared himself for a life on the run, licking his wounds while he could and hoping to find a decent place to hide or time enough to ward it completely from sight both upstairs and down.
"He wasn't acting of his own accord when he did," Samandriel whispered, but said no more than that. Speaking the truth into the air more than he already had was sure to bring down some kind of wrath on him.
At least for now the searing pain around the crown of his head was gone. "I think he'd appreciate a gift of meat and liquor more," he mused quietly. "Or a song." Maybe...maybe one day he'd be able to gift Hakkon with a song. In that moment he was sure his notes would all fall flat anyway.
Ever so slowly, colour began returning to his wings.