Noting his silence, he lets the hug go on. Hythlodaeus can't bring himself to pull away, not when Emet-Selch holds him so tightly, and he rests his head on his shoulder.
The silence is heavy, yet not awkward. It feels like a spell, like a moment that could stretch on forever if he allowed it to. And who is to say it can't? If this is a dream, then he can hold Emet-Selch for as long as he likes. Perhaps he will, until he wakes up.
"Oh, my dearest friend..." He murmurs it, rubbing his hand over Emet-Selch's back. He doesn't know quite how hard Hades has fought for the last 12000 years, not really, but he knows the man is exhausted. He can see it in his posture, hear it in his voice. He can feel it in the way he's held so tightly that it's been a long, hard road. Would that he could ease his suffering, lift that heavy burden from him.
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The silence is heavy, yet not awkward. It feels like a spell, like a moment that could stretch on forever if he allowed it to. And who is to say it can't? If this is a dream, then he can hold Emet-Selch for as long as he likes. Perhaps he will, until he wakes up.
"Oh, my dearest friend..." He murmurs it, rubbing his hand over Emet-Selch's back. He doesn't know quite how hard Hades has fought for the last 12000 years, not really, but he knows the man is exhausted. He can see it in his posture, hear it in his voice. He can feel it in the way he's held so tightly that it's been a long, hard road. Would that he could ease his suffering, lift that heavy burden from him.