Naga!Pythor x Reader

You thought the images of Selma chatting away positively were a dream. Her smiling face laced over with some sort of sorrow. You think you asked. It had something to do with Lloyd.

And Pythor, his face full of devastation, looking at you as if the motion caused him unimaginable pain. He would coo things, touch your face where you could barely feel his fingers.

You wondered if you were disfigured or something.

You blinked awake, immediately recognizing the posts of your bed at the palace. A sigh of relief burst from your lips, you had never been so elated to wake up somewhere.

You touched your face, the skin sensitive, like a sunburn but not greatly injured.

You smiled, the worst seemed to be the new cuts on your legs. Your arm was freshly wrapped in gauze, the cut on the side of your face bandaged lightly.

There was a chair and a folding table beside your bed, strewn with old books, papers and an empty teacup. You wondered where he was.

Excited, you swung off the bed, cracking a few stiff joints. You walked out into the setting area, peaked in his room, then in the study. Knowing that Pythor wasn't there you did one more sweep looking for your satchel and cloak.

Neither could be found. You'd have to ask about those, the thought of losing them, the cloak especially, made your heart ache.

Enthusiasm undaunted, you walked out into the hall, the guard that was stationed there after the Acidicus incident still waiting.

He cleared his throat, "Come with me," he commanded.

"To Pythor?" you asked, smiling.

He nodded, stoic in his demeanor.

You followed him with almost a skip in your step, expecting him to take you to the council room or something, but he led you on through the palace. Eventually you ended up at the hangers, the guard taking several turns, the way towards Skales's helicopter, you knew.

Were you going somewhere?

You walked into the Hypnobrai hanger, revealing Pythor talking to Skales.

The sight of him only made your heart soar, and as soon as the guard did the sweeping bow to Pythor and the Hypnobrai eye salute to Skales, he turned and exited and you ran forward.

You wrapped your arms around him, your forehead against his neck, "Py," you whispered, "You're ok. We're ok."

And something was wrong.

His hands rose slowly, a much different embrace than the one he greeted you with in the Fire Temple. He held you as if he were made of glass, as if he were afraid to break you, slow and methodical movements.

You pulled back where you could see his face, "Pythor what's wrong. I'm okay, right?"

He looked ill, pained.

You took a glance at Skales. He was looking at the ground, no expression on his features. It was eerie for him, it was wrong.

The door to the helicopter behind you was open, your satchel on the floor, and you could see the back of the pilot's helmet.

Your hands started to shake, a cold feeling congealing in your gut, "Py, Pythor," you grabbed the top of his arms, "What's wrong? Tell me. Tell me, please. Pythor."

He took a deep breath, his eyes glazed over.

You grabbed him again, around his chest, and leaned up with your lips against his ear, "Please tell me. You're scaring me. Please."