Naga!Pythor x Reader

Talking Animals? You Would Think This Was a Disney Movie, but Those End Well

You kept waking up to the beautiful worried man, or the fairy woman watching you in a bed.

Sometimes the fairy woman would bring back the little blue boy that had scales like a dragon. There was also a bigger version of the blue boy.

Sometimes she would have a boy with a ribcage for a chest and the number five for a heart. But sometimes his skin would glow golden and his clothes would turn green, and that was scary.

Other people came, perhaps, a blur of voices that were not voices, and faces that morphed into other things.

The nurse would touch you with a sharp thing, and then you would sleep again.

When you would wake the walls would shift, or melt, or shatter. A sea roiled outside the windows, one you could never swim in.

Your face hurt.

The wind was a million colors.

The beautiful man would stroke your head like something was wrong, and you'd sleep again to the sound of his voice- like a violin, like birdsong, like a heartbeat.

. . .

You blinked your eyes slowly, a taste in your mouth like you'd overslept, and forgotten to brush your teeth.

You groaned, and rubbed your eyes, the ceiling above plain but the elegant enough to be recognizable as the palace.

You followed the tense, earth-colored hand on the side of the bed to a body, Selma frozen with her other hand on the call button.

"Selma," you mumbled.

A nurse burst in with a syringe.

"Wait," Selma stopped her, eyes darting between the two of you.

"Selma, what happened? Where's Pythor? How long have I been out?" you rasped.

Having been holding her breath, she burst out a sigh of relief, her grip relaxing.

"Go get her some water," she commanded the waiting nurse, then continued as the woman exited the room, "Oh, hun, I've been worried sick."

She embraced you, a restrained sort of gingerness to her motions, a repressed desire to seize you in one of her signature bear-hugs.

She pulled away, "You've been out for almost two days. I sent Pythor away, I'm sorry. They've been sedating you most of the time anyways because of your hysteria, and the only one more hysterical from it was him. He has a lot to sort out with the Generals too," she sit back down, squeezing your hand.

You sit up a little, "I can imagine he does . . ." you trailed off, raising your hand to your jaw where a series of butterfly bandages held the cut closed, and then moved to the achy skin of your throat, suspecting that it was bruised, "and what of Acidicus?" you asked warily.

She looked down, "They said his body fell into one of the aqueducts, but it was shallow enough he couldn't of survived it, and if he did the current would have drowned him," she gazed at the curtained window, the only light source softly illuminating the room, "It makes me uneasy," she sighed, "But with the increase in security, there's nowhere better you could be," she chuckled, brightening the anxious subject, "for you especially, you've got an Anacondrai as a guard dog."

The nurse entered, handing you a glass of water that you drank almost all of before she even got out of the door.

You rubbed your eyes again, "Could they not get the anti-venom from the staff for me?"