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You are trying your very very best not to throw up, but it’s pretty hard. You lean heavily against the grey wall of the alley, tearing your eyes away from the scene you just inadvertently stumbled upon. It was a human, like you, torn to ribbons and thrown about all along the way. The goblin that’d likely done was also dead, head torn clean off. Something even more vicious had apparently taken offense to its presence. That meant this was the territory of some monster you haven’t spotted yet and you should really get moving. A shame; you’d hoped these ruins would serve you as a home, at least for a while. Figures that they were claimed already. You tore yourself away from the wall, hoisted the bag containing your meager belongings onto your back, and moved through quickly and into the forest beyond.
It was never strictly your goal in life, to be a vagabond. You were actually raised pretty damn well off, all things considering. Your family were merchants in a modest town. Rich enough to have you educated, but not so rich as to have you taught only lady-subjects or arranged your marriage. Nonetheless, it was strongly imprinted on you that you were expected to marry some merchant’s son, or better yet, a petty lord, and assist your husband in continuing the family business. While merchant-ing wasn’t repellent to you per se, being a merchant’s wife did not agree with you in the least bit. Every two weeks you heard of some young noble lady dying in childbirth, and every day you saw country girls and the gaggle of offspring constantly at their heels. Besides, the men of your town were not distinguished by good looks or good manners. And so, you fled your family home in the night and had been itinerant ever since.
Often you wondered if you’d made a colossally stupid decision. The wild places of the world were full of creatures, long in fang and claw, eager to tear into human flesh. You’ve been lucky to survive the years that you have, even with your natural sense for danger and skill with the knife. You figure you’ll die as some monster’s dinner sooner rather than later. But always you remember the alternative and re-decide that you had indeed made the right choice. For yourself anyway.
You continue through the dense bush and notice that berries have started to appear, more and more frequently, in the undergrowth. The forest here seemed unusually generous. You keep moving, picking a berry or two on your way, before you are stopped by a rocky outcropping. The forest continued over it, but you would be unable to climb it safely. You begin to walk around when you notice a cave entrance in the rock, well-hidden but swept clean inside. Something lived here. Your spine prickles with the instinct to leave immediately. You turn back around and instantly know that you’re not getting out of there alive.
Squarely in front of you, green-scaled to match the leaves of the trees, is a naga. An adult, you’re pretty sure. He’s deadly lean and red-eyed and his fully-extended claws are needle-sharp, ready to tear their way through you. You stand completely still, unable to so much as breathe. He flicks his tongue out, tasting the air. It’s not forked, like other snakes, but it’s a lot pointier than a human’s would be. Then he moves, lightning-fast, slamming you down against the ground with just one hand. At some point, you scream, but your mind can’t catch up until everything is still again. He hasn’t killed you yet.
“Please!” you yell, in sheer animal panic, “Please don’t kill me!”
A heartbeat later, you realize it’s useless. Even if he could understand you, it’s not as though he’d let a meal go just because it asked.
He seems to pause, then uses his other hand to cut your face. It doesn’t feel deep, but you flinch anyway. He uses his weirdly long tongue to lap up the blood there, and seems to think for a moment.
“…perhaps we could come to an arrangement.”
His voice sounds kind of hollow and strange – distinctly not human – but you’re too distracted by the fact that he just spoke. This naga could speak your language. It takes you three full heartbeats to digest this. You’d never even heard of this being possible. But you recover quickly.
“Whuh-what did you have in mind?”
He’s still pressing you into the dirt, clearly unwilling to let his prey go.
“You are a nestless human, correct?”
You quickly translate ‘nest’ to ‘home’ and nod.
“You have been prey many times?”
You nod again. The number of near-death incidents you’ve had the past few years has gone beyond your counting.
“You may stay near the edge of my nest and have my protection. In exchange, I will have your blood.”
You…don’t know what ‘having your blood’ could mean, so you ask. In response, he opens his mouth to show two inch-long fangs just as sharp as his claws. Your mind is racing fast, and you quickly figure that being alive is better than being dead, and having a place to stay for once wouldn’t be terrible. You just wonder how long it would take for the naga to decide to eat you after all. Perhaps you can figure out a way to sneak off later.
“…alright. Deal.”
He shifts his weight off of you, but grabs you by the front of your tunic instead, and proceeds to drag you to the cave entrance. You stumble to keep pace, but it’s difficult. His tail is long and powerful and it propels him faster than your legs generally allow. He continues to drag you into the cave, where there’s some sort of bioluminescent plant lighting the way. It’s not too long before you see his nest – an indentation he’s dug into the ground that’s lined with dried plant matter and hides. You’re not all the way there when he pushes you against the wall of the cave, and immediately bites right into the base of your neck. The pain is immense and you cannot help but scream. The pain doesn’t let you pass out, but he takes a length of time you aren’t able to follow. When he’s finished, you’ve screamed your throat raw and you feel drained. He lets you drop right there onto the cave floor and slithers away without a word. You gingerly touch your neck with the last of your energy. Surprisingly, you feel no wound. You don’t have time to consider that before you pass out.
****
You wake up sore and hungry, but alive. It’s daytime, so you must’ve slept the whole evening and night before. Looking around, you see the naga lounging in his nest, dozing. It must be the warm part of the day. You get to your feet, shakily.
“And where are you going, human?”
Not actually asleep, then.
“I uh…I’m going to go get my belongings. They’re outside. And probably something to eat.” You cannot have him think that you’re ready to go back on your deal so quickly. He slowly uncoils.
“I will go with you.”
You blink at him.
“Your blood is sweet. I cannot let you run away so soon.”
Ah. This may complicate your sneak-away-later plans.
He follows you out of the cave and as you pick up your bag from the forest floor nearby. You take out your small dagger and see him unsheathe his claws out of the corner of your eye.
“I have to hunt something. Like a rabbit or a bird. To eat?” you offer
The claws retract but you can still tell he’s suspicious. You gather some berries into your bag as you look around for any signs of small critters you can kill. You try to move slowly, both to not disturb any potential prey in the undergrowth, and to assure your new protector that you’re not going to run. After quite some time, you’re blessed with a fat rodent crossing your path. You strike fast, spearing it through the back. At the same time, the naga grabs you by the throat. You can’t breathe, and thus can’t say anything in your defense, but you lift your speared kill up to his face. He releases you slowly. The both of you get back to the cave entrance and you start gathering the materials for a fire.
“Ah, I know of this. Humans like their meat burnt.”
He looks smug but you don’t let it get to you.
“It’s cooked, but yes. Kills parasites.” you respond
“Humans are weak.”
His lip scales move apart in what you suppose to be the equivalent of a smile. You ignore it, gut and skin your rodent, and cook the meat. He’s watching you the entire time and you wonder if part of the reason he’d made the deal is because he was lonely. But you abandon that thought quickly. Naga are solitary creatures after all. You leave the skin to dry over the dying fire and eat your berries.
“You stink, human. You should go wash. Or do humans not clean themselves?”
“When there’s clean water we do.”
He leads you around the rock outcrop to a small hidden spring. Its water spills down the side of the rock into a small pool. You can even see small fish in it. It’s true, you hadn’t had a proper wash in a long time, so you enthusiastically undress. The water is cold, so you wash quickly, using an abrasive rag to remove the filth from your body. You try not to get much of it in the pool. You’ve seen washing pools devoid of life after too many people have used it. Once you’re clean, you dunk yourself in the water. Coming out, you notice the naga is staring. He wrinkles his flattish nose.
“Humans are too… bumpy.”
You laugh, unashamed.
“Not all of us. Men are usually pretty flat.”
“No,” he insists, “your ‘men’ are bumpy in different areas. All humans are ugly.”
You burst out laughing again. You suppose to a naga, humans would indeed be pretty ugly. You put on your clothes, urging yourself to think of a way to clean them soon. By the time you made it back to the cave, it’s starting to get dark. You tell the naga that you’re going to sleep, and settle down in the same spot where you passed out the day before. The ground is hard, but sleep takes you quickly.
****
It takes two weeks for the naga to stop tailing you everywhere you went. Every day, you hunted, ate berries, and not much else. Once a week, you washed. You found out that he washed nearly every day – the first time you noticed, it was because he insisted that he go in the pool before you. So, you stood there and watched him. Or rather, tried not to. Water running down his scales made you think…entirely the wrong sorts of thoughts. You were not about to let yourself capture-bond with a monster. Besides, you were pretty sure your fate as dinner was still probable – your half of the bargain remained an incredibly painful weekly reminder.
Once he seemed convinced that you wouldn’t run away the moment he wasn’t looking, you explained that you needed to get to the nearest human settlement to get materials. You desperately needed something softer to sleep on. Luckily, he did not contest the idea, only insisting that he be nearby in case you tried to bolt. ‘Making a nest of your own’ he called it. He lead you to a half-deserted village, where you managed to scrape together a decrepit carpet, a thin blanket, and enough rags for a makeshift pillow. Overnight, your sleep improved dramatically. You also managed to steal some books from one of the abandoned buildings. You hadn’t read anything in so long, you actually got a little emotional when you opened one that evening.
One night, after you had tucked your books away and settled in to sleep, there was a noise at the cave entrance. At first, you thought it might’ve been just a rabbit disturbing the bushes, but staring into the dark, you suddenly saw four bright orange pinpricks. Before you could move a muscle, the naga was at the cave-mouth, hissing loudly and swiping at the lights. Screeches answered him from the darkness outside, and quickly he lunged and pulled out a winged gremlin creature. He lifted it high into the air and squeezed its neck until it cracked. You pulled out your dagger, just in case. There was no need, as the naga dispatched the other gremlin by smashing its head against the ground. His tail coiled in on itself continuously – he was irritated, either by the intrusion or by the smell. Perhaps both. He moved to exit the cave, tossing the corpses outside.
“Wait! What if there’s more?!”
You were terrified of getting caught in your own bed. Winged gremlins are bloodthirsty and stronger than they looked. The naga paused, scenting the air.
“There are no more. The smell of these,” he hissed, “will keep any unwise wanderers away.”
Then he disappeared, returning with freshly washed hands. You were hidden under your blanket, pretending to be asleep. Then and there it occurred to you that you were both the most and least safe you’ve ever been.
****
The morning after that incident, you had the first non-survival-related thought you’d had in what seemed like forever. You quickly found the gremlin corpses and, trying very hard not to vomit, removed the central artery from each. You then cleaned it and left it dry near your sleeping spot. The naga took offense to this immediately.
“Remove this sticking filth at once!”
“No! It’s useful!”
“And what in the maggoty entrails, could it possibly be useful for?!”
“I’m going to use it to keep my hair up!”
“Human vanity! Ridiculous!”
You clench your eyes closed. It’s taking all your willpower not to gesticulate at him - you’re not sure, but that could get you dead.
“It’ll keep my hair cleaner, for longer.”
Your tone is tight but calmed.
“…if it will make you smell less filthy…I’ll allow it.”
The naga wrinkled his nose again and removed himself to his nest. Several days later, when the sinews are dried and cut, you braid your hair and tie it off. It makes you feel civilized, even though you live in a cave with a monster. He notices.
“Human, your hair…it looks. Pleasing.”
You’re surprised he has a sense of aesthetic, but then again you suppose there’s many things about naga that you don’t really know. He considers your hair briefly.
“You will weave my hair as well…but in a different pattern, I do not want to resemble you.”
Your eyes go wide. The naga…wants you to do his hair. This is patently absurd, but he turns around expectantly and lowers his hips to sit on the ground so you can reach his head. Slowly, gently, you braid his hair into eight roughly equal braids – you figure it’d look different enough to yours that he wouldn’t get offended. His hair is a lighter green, like his chest and belly scales, and slightly serrated though the serrations are softer than you thought they would be. When you are done, he huffs about it taking so long but slithers away to the pool to look at it. He comes back looking immensely pleased.
“Well done, human. And very timely of you. I go to the nest-gathering tomorrow.”
You are surprised by how genuinely glad you are that he likes the hairstyle.
“What’s a nest-gathering?” you ask
“It is when the naga of this region meet at the mountain. We have much to discuss. Territory disputes, rank fights, many things…” he chatters freely, petting his new braids
“How long will you be gone?”
“Three days,” he pauses, scenting the air, “do not run, human. I will hunt you down if you do.”
You spend the time reading and scavenging the abandoned buildings of the nearby village. You consider running, but you’ve been genuinely enjoying your relative safety. The naga had been true to the deal, and killed every nasty thing that showed up. Perhaps you will run away soon, but not this time. When he returns, he seems even prouder than before.
“I take it it went well?” you ask off-handedly.
Truly, you were curious about what a nest-gathering was like. He grinned in response, red eyes flashing.
“Splendidly. I received many proposals.”
He was visibly preening and you couldn’t help but chuckle. If naga proposals were anything like human ones – vanity indeed! Briefly, you think that he does indeed look more handsome with the braids, but you shove that though away just as quickly as it appears. Mysteriously, the next time he takes your blood, it does not hurt. You decide not to ask about it.
****
A week later, you trade names. His name – naga have names! – you learn, is Zilan. A week after that, he insists you leave the cave for a whole day.
“The whole day?” you’re surprised
“Yes. You must not be here.”
“Until sundown or…?”
“Yes. Until sundown should be…sufficient.”
When you come back, his nest is full of pearly eggs the size of two of your fists. Your eyes must have been the size of saucers.
“Wait…I thought you were-”
He crosses his arms, offended, and hisses lightly.
“Well…I’m sorry, but I thought you were male!”
He – he? – makes a choking noise in the back of his throat.
“We do not mate the way you humans do. Any naga may mate with any other. And other creatures besides, if we so choose.”
He looks away, lip scales flat like he’s both upset and embarrassed. You are shocked…but you reassess quickly. You decide not to ask about how naga mate with ‘other creatures’. You catch yourself thinking about it too often for your liking.
****
The eggs prove to be extremely time-consuming. You learn that they cannot get too hot, as one particularly warm day, Zilan splashes cool water in them in a panicked fashion. Seeing this, you lightly touch an egg with the back of your hand. Indeed, you think, it’s a bit warm. You find a thin book from your stash and begin fanning them. You’re reading something else, so it takes you a moment to notice Zilan standing in the cave, water trickling from his hands. You look up to see his face, which looks utterly shocked with its wide wide eyes.
“What?” you say. Then, “you’re dripping on the floor.”
“You are…cooling my eggs.”
“Yeah. They’ll die if they get too hot right?”
“…yes.”
He looks at you without understanding. For your part, you’re not sure what he’s so confused about.
“And that would be…bad,” you motion to the eggs. To you, this is obvious.
He seems to snap out of it. You two spend the whole day making sure the eggs don’t cook in the heat. You’ve never seen him anxious before this. You find it…endearing.
****
It is scarcely a week later when you confuse Zilan again. It is the middle of the night and it is a chilly one. You can’t sleep. Your blanket is not enough to protect you from the occasional gust coming from the mouth of the cave. You’re glaring at it, uselessly willing the wind to go away, when you hear noises. Gremlins! You grab your dagger, but you whisper for Zilan to wake up. He does not – the cold must be making him slow. The gremlins steal their way into your cave. There are three of them and you can tell they’re there for the eggs. You lunge in front of the nest, nailing one through the wing, then slashing at it. It fights back with its claws. You scream. The gremlin screeches. Zilan is awake and bellowing in surprise and fury. The gremlins are quickly torn apart and thrown out of the cave. Zilan, panting with barely contained fury, turns to you.
“You,” his voice still rings with hisses, “you…defended my nest.”
You’re panting too, though for you it’s all the rush of violence.
“Yeah.”
“…why?” he asks and his bewilderment has taken over his anger
“Well…they were going to eat the eggs, weren’t they? Can’t have that. We worked hard on those.”
You answer matter-of-factly. Again, to you, this is obvious. He seems confused or uncertain for the whole of the next day. The one after that, he disappears for the afternoon and comes back with a pile of blankets.
“A…payment. For defending my eggs,” he explains
He quickly adds that the humans he took these from had too many anyway. You thank him profusely and both of you were awkward around each other for several days.
****
You’re on the outskirts of another town, bartering for herbs, when the first actual you-feel-real-danger incident in months occurs. You’ve successfully bartered your way into some thyme, and attempting to get some pepper, when the shopkeep decides that he’d rather have you than your business. He grabs your arm in a vice grip. He’s also the town blacksmith. You yell and struggle – you’ve built up enough dry strength surviving that he can’t drag you away immediately. The townsfolk seem to take no notice. You punch the man in the face, and while it does look like you left a mark, he’s tenacious. You’re not quite thinking when you yell for Zilan. Your naga friend doesn’t take very long to arrive. He appraises the situation – a dirty human man visibly trying to drag you into his dwelling – before lunging. To say he looks furious would be a grave understatement. He lifts the shopkeep into the air with one arm, eyes nearly glowing with anger, and now the townspeople choose to react. Some have grabbed the nearest pointy thing and staggered forward, too scared of a naga to attack yet. Zilan throws the shopkeep into the growing crowd, then throws you over his shoulder and makes for the forest.
“We are not returning to that nest-gathering,” he seethes on your way back to the cave
“I wholeheartedly agree.”
The next day, you present him with a bauble you’d found on one of you trips. It was perhaps an earring once, but now was a thin metal nail with a pretty blue stone on one end. You explain that it can go in his hair and that it’s…payment. For saving you. He accepts it, gingerly, visibly unsure. You laugh briefly to yourself.
****
One fine morning, you hear scratching noises coming from the eggs. You’re startled and wonder if there’s something wrong, but Zilan looks so pleased that you quickly realize that they must be hatching. You watch the tops of the eggs break, then fall away. Zilan is shaking with excitement, and it’s infectious. Almost all at once, a dozen little naga hatchlings crawl their way out of their eggs, and you are not ready for the absolutely adorable 'peep'ing sounds they make. They can’t quite see, and they flail their tiny green arms and tiny snake tails, and you can’t believe it but now you can say that there’s naga out there that make your heart constrict with pure joy. You look up at Zilan questioningly.
“There’s a nursery forest close by. We must take them there,” he explains, eyes firmly glued to the hatchlings
That proves the be harder than it sounded. The hatchlings are very curious and insist on crawling around everywhere. Eventually, you get the idea to empty your bag and pile them all in it. Zilan tries to look very unimpressed by this, but you can see him trying to not laugh. You free the hatchlings in a far part of the wood where small prey is abundant. The roughly one-third of eggs that did not hatch, Zilan throws unceremoniously out of the cave. You understand, but it makes you a little sad. You elect to chatter on about how cute the hatchlings are, which you manage to do for two solid days, much to Zilan’s apparent bewilderment. You don’t tell him that you thought he looked cute as well.
****
With Zilan’s nest empty, your days go back to hunting, reading, and scouting the nearby villages. With the middle of summer upon you though, you feel the itch of exploration.
“Can we go to a new part of the forest? You want to see somewhere new.”
You’re almost bouncy with eagerness. Zilan crosses his arms like he’s trying to look stern, but his amused eyes give him away.
“Humans are so fidgety!” he gives up, breaking into a smile
The two of you go north, where he says there’s something that you might find interesting. It takes hours, but it’s worth it – it’s a half-smashed church. Some of the stained glass is even intact. You explore it to your heart’s content, climbing over every accessible inch. Zilan even joins in, to an extent. The inside makes you a little nostalgic for home, so you ask Zilan to give you a moment before you leave. He does.
When you’re finally ready to go, you find him outside the outer wall, fighting. Your dagger is in your hand in a moment as you get closer. Two goblins are coming at him from the front, and another one is attacking from behind. The latter has jumped onto his back and is attempting to slice his neck open with its claws. You barely even think, lunging at the goblin on Zilan’s back. Your first swing hits its ribs, but glances off. It screeches, but doesn’t let go. Your second swing get it in the neck, and you peel it off the naga’s back, and stab it again. Zilan throws one of his other attackers at a tree hard. It sags, impaled on a tree branch. The other, he beheads with his hands. He turns to you, taking in the blood on your hands and dagger. It takes you both a moment to steady yourselves. You return to the nest in silence, washing the filth off in the cold spring water along the way. When inside, Zilan gives you a look you’re not sure how to read. Or perhaps don’t let yourself read. He pushes you against the wall.
“My hunger has come early,” he says, voice low and echoing
He doesn’t seem hungry.
You nod and bare your neck anyway. The bite doesn’t hurt, as it hasn’t for weeks now, which you’re still privately baffled by. This time, once he starts feeding, he pins you lightly with his torso. You flush, but repeat ‘don’t think about, don’t think about it’ on loop in your mind. You don’t let yourself consider what ‘it’ even is. You start to feel warm and tingly in an entirely too-pleasant way, but strangely, it’s now the bite you’re reacting to. He’s…feeding…but slowly, little by little. You start to tremble and something purr-like rises in his throat. You feel a noise bubbling up in your throat, but you use all your willpower to push it down. You can’t let yourself react like this to a snake, you think as fragments from years of church flashes in your mind. Quickly, he’s extracted his fangs and licked your wound closed. His gaze on you is playful, but you say nothing, so he retreats back to his nest. He’s sulking but you don’t notice. It takes too long for your heartbeat to go back to normal.
****
The next two times he feeds go much the same way. Each time, the sensations get more intense, and it get harder to keep your reactions in check. In the days between, keeping a rein on your thoughts gets more and more difficult. Your heart races when you see him bathe, you flush when he re-ties your hair for you, you catch yourself looking at him dozing instead of reading in the evenings. God, what would your father say? You desperately want to ask about what is going on, every time you try, the words get stuck. By the time the next feeding time comes around, you’re higher strung than a longbow.
You expect him to bite you, but instead, he invites you into his nest. You freeze.
“What? Why?”
He smiles, “To help me lay our eggs of course.”
“…our…eggs?”
“Indeed,” he says, narrowing his eyes, “of my body and your blood. They are both yours and mine.”
He says it as though it is obvious.
“As my mate, you may help me lay them. Unless you do not wish-”
“Wait, hold on, I’m your mate?!” you are so bewildered, you can’t quite focus on your surroundings
“Yes,” he says slowly, “it was…unplanned, but you have proven yourself to be a surprisingly capable mate.”
You remain standing in silent shock. His muscles start twitching slightly.
“You live near my nest, you defend my eggs, you help me hatch them, you protect me…do not act like you have not been acting as a mate!” he raises his voice, but he’s not hissing
You look him in the face and you see that the delicate skin between his scales has flushed. Oh. He’s flustered. He’s been flustered for weeks! You must’ve been so busy keeping yourself on a tight leash that you didn’t notice. You dazedly plop yourself down next to his nest. He starts to ask you something, but you raise your hand to quiet him. You need some time to digest all of this. When you emerge from your stupor, he’s looking at you from behind his hair. He’s nothing like what you’ve been taught naga are like. Or rather, that’s not all he is. You realize how tired you are of holding everything back. You quietly ask what laying the eggs entails. He smiles wickedly.
“It is the final step of consummating a mating bond.”
You’re not dense enough to miss what that means, so you descend into his nest. He grins and his eyes glow in the weak light and he dispatches your clothes quickly. His hands trace your body, claws fully retracted so they cannot hurt you. Your breath catches, and you reach for him. You touch his arms, his back, his neck, his hips, all the places where you wouldn’t let yourself watch before. The purring noise he makes in his chest starts, loudly, and it draws a moan from you. This time, you do not stop yourself. Hearing it, he tenses, then rushes forward to press his mouth against yours. His hands are still tracing everywhere, so gently, so carefully, that you make little sounds into your kiss. It only fuels him further and you feel his body warming up. You wrap your legs around his hips and squeeze. He gasps, and you let them go.
“No?” you ask
He seems to recover and looks down at you.
“Yesss…”
He returns to kissing you, pressing you harder against the side of his nest. Soon, you’re not just squeezing him, you’re rocking yourself against him, moaning loudly with every movement. There’s a new rumbling in his chest in response and you feel a swelling high in his tail, below where his navel would be. You adjust to rock against it as he licks your neck and collarbone. It swells once more, and then emerges as two smooth protrusions. They’re not very large, so you experimentally rock your swollen clit against them. They’re slippery with something that makes your whole body tingle with want on contact. You hear Zilan moaning in your ear. Then it is him moving, copying you, again and again, and you can do little but let yourself shudder and whimper and hold him tight. Through this haze, you feel something drop onto your belly, sticky and warm. It’s surprising enough that you reach to touch it and find that it’s exactly what you should’ve expected. The egg’s shell isn’t hard yet, so you move it to the side of the nest. You feel another touch your belly and follow it as it emerges from Zilan somewhere above where he is pressing against you. You press against the entrance, freeing the egg, and he moans. It's loud enough to echo. You keep pressing there, fingers working emerging eggs out of him, as he moves faster against you. Whatever it is that was affecting you so strongly before only intensifies, as both of you become wet with fluids. The tingling pleasure in your body starts to concentrate in your clit and your thighs and it takes only two more strokes for you to finally release – silently, but pressing hard against Zilan above you. You hear him finish soon after that, a primal inhuman noise, but it causes you to clench once more all the same. You fall asleep at the side of the nest, on top of him, fluids and all, as he regards the new eggs fondly.
****
While there were fewer eggs this time than the last, they all hatch. Taking them to the nursery forest proved easier – these part-human hatchlings seemed to instinctively know their parents and crawled all over the two of you. In fact, you had some extra trouble getting them to go off on their own! You think they’re even cuter than the previous ones, with their pink belly scales. Zilan insists that you’re just biased, but then laughs at your pouting and confesses that he agrees. On your way back to the nest, you wonder at how in so short a time, you’ve managed to find a home and really, truly, settle down. The sudden realization strikes you, that you have children, but the thought doesn’t bother you like it did before. Zilan casually asks what you thought about the laying process.
“It is so different from the human way after all,”
You pause to ‘think’, but you’re fake it. You’d already made up your mind days ago.
“Zilan, if it were up to me, we could fill this whole forest with our hatchlings.”
He stops you by your shoulder, and gently, so so gently, pins you against the nearest tree.
“Promise?”