There's a bit of a mess to deal with, but that's what magic is for, when he feels like using it for such a thing. Right now, though, there's barely a thought to it. He just drags Ashely off the desk to the floor in his arms in the aftermath and he wasn't wearing a cloak before, but there's one now, his usual one for his official office for no reason other than he's summoned it with the absolute least amount of brain power and this is the one he's most familiar with.

It's perhaps a bit heavy for a rest on the floor of his study, but the weight is comforting and he doesn't want Ashley to be cold. It will take longer than they'll likely need it to get stifling under it anyway.

He curls Ashley close and pets through his hair, fingers expertly weaving tangles out of it, though Ereuvir is almost dozing, himself. He doesn't intend to sleep here (he rarely chooses to sleep at all) but there's no more thought to moving for several minutes than if he had been a mortal man.