#and now 2pm me had to clean up the mess of typos. but yay :)

[chesters-ocs]

naga!stone my beloved, that is all i'll say

@the-whispers-of-death >:3

wc: 1.3k

Sylvester crept over to the cave, the book bag heavy on his shoulder, but he didn't mind.

With one last glance over his shoulder, he confirmed to still be alone, and descended deeper into the cavern. He didn't need to "look", not like he could anyways, but it made hearing or smelling things easier. Or... it felt like it helped.

He had long since familiarized himself with the layout, and even with the blindfold still equipped, he traversed the rocky, overgrown area with ease. Only his cane seemed to catch on something every once in a while, but it was no cause for concern.

The palm of his hand grazes over a rock in the wall near the back of the winding tunnels, having found it after meticulously counting his steps as to not lose himself within the area. Upon pushing it, the hidden door slid open. Stepping trough, he listened as it shut behind him, before he kept walking, one hand now tracing the lovingly, painstakingly carved bookshelves.

Avoiding a few traps here and there, he simply crept onward. The floors had changed from the raw rock of the cave to tiled stone. No doubt it took years to perfect. If he could see, he'd be looking at the mosaic patterns beneath him, ones that were his downfall when he came here the first time, leading him to miss the pretty obvious trap set out.

But that was years ago now. And he found himself forgiving his host the second he beared witness to what he was: a naga. A creature so old, so rare and so beautiful, that Sylvester felt the need to bow down to him at first sight. He still did, on occasion.

So despite not even knowing the name of this stunning librarian hoarding the gift of knowledge, he found himself utterly devoted. He found himself bringing gifts and offerings in the shape of the modern era books, in exchange for the man letting him stay and study the texts. Sylvester often spent days at the table, meticulously writing down every last word, wishing to copy everything for his organization's own archive. It was grueling work but he loved it.

The subtle sound of scales brushing against the tiled flooring snapped him back to the present. Pausing mid-step, he awaited his greeting.

Just a moment later he felt the snake part of the man slither around his legs, easily trapping him in place. Though, Sylvester did not resist. If anything, he smiled, feeling the coils move upward and tighten around him, all the way up to his chest. Only his arms remained free.

"You're late," the voice rumbled, a clawed hand brushing against his cheek, slowly, carefully, sliding off the intricate blindfold from the historian's sensitive eyes, before bringing him in for a tight hug.

Even in total darkness, both could see the other clearly. A small perk of the animals they both resemble.

"I apologize, my liege," Sylvester uttered, his pupils dilated from the dark atmosphere, as he looked up at the naga. There was nothing but adoration and reverence in his gaze. Maybe the clear love for the naga also contributed to the pupil dilation.

Rolling his eyes, the half-snake half-man creature grumbled: "I don't need your apologies, I need your safety."

Right. So this was where it was going.

"Are you hurt?" the man asked, despite already knowing the answer. His magic had stitched back together Sylvester's wounds the second he passed trough the invisible perimeter of the library.

"No, no, I am not."

"... Were you hurt?"

It was now the historian's turn to roll his eyes: "Just a few nicks here and there. But you knew that."

"Just making sure," the man grunted, before his gaze fell to the book bag still on the other's shoulder.

"For me?"

"For you."

With a small glint in his eyes, the naga pulled the bag away from its holder, and pulled out two books.

"They're both architectural texts," Sylvester spoke, a hint of pride in his voice, "Got them mailed to me from my homeland."

The snake remained silent, skimming over the drawings and words, before shutting it. All it held was information about the architectural styles of the buildings in the plaza and how they changed over a millennia. Interesting, yes, but nothing the man couldn't find in his own records.

He then flipped open the other, smaller booklet and let out a pleased hum over the contents: it was a complete history from the day his kingdom rose, to the way it still proudly stands today. The latest additions were which interested him most, and he quietly noted the authors. Perhaps the next time Sylvester goes out, he'll request more from them specifically.

Snapping the book shut, he finally unraveled the smaller man from the trap of coils, who then dutifully followed after the larger, much more ancient being, almost with a skip in his step.

"It'll do," he nodded, making his way over to the new part of the cave system: the expansions Sylvester is to blame for. At least his habit of bringing back books every time he returned gave the librarian something to do with his time.

"And... By the way, you are aware that you've only been in the top layer, yes?" the snake asked, looking rather amused by the shock in the historian's eyes.

"... Pardon?" Sylvester inquired.

"This is only the first floor of the library," he elaborated, "There's another layer beneath our feet."

The historian freezes in his tracks.

Noticing the sudden stop, the creature tilts his head: "Something wrong?"

"... No," Sylvester gulped, but the word came across as unsure.

"No? Is it one floor too few, little star?"

"No, no, it's just... I've already been here for... What, five years? It'll be at least another five when I'm done with those books! If I'm done!"

"I fail to see the problem," The naga stated, searching for a spot the two new books would fit best within, analyzing each and every shelf with a critical eye.

"Do you think you can handle me for another ten years?"

"I think I'd go insane if I didn't see you for ten hours. Yes. Yes I could handle you. I want to handle you," he said with such finality, and slid the texts in a shelf he deemed fitting. He'll categorize them later, now he just wanted to pay attention to the scholar.

"I... I see," Sylvester stuttered out, "How come you didn't tell me that beforehand, my liege?"

"That's for me to know, little star," he brushed off the question. Truthfully, he had noticed how the small mortal was nearing to the end of his stay. A mere handful of books are left on the first floor for him to rewrite and mail back to his home. A week's work at best.

Perhaps it hit the naga that if he didn't show the rest of his collection, he won't see this mortal ever again. Or maybe he felt bad about withholding such ancient, precious texts instead. Perchance it was both. Or a different reason entirely. Maybe it didn't matter why he let him know.

"So... Stay? Just a little longer?" he asked, hiding the hopeful tone under heavy wraps.

Not knowing what to say in return, the mortal just nodded, letting his hand be taken by the naga, as he was led deeper into the system. He observed and noted the systems and locks put in place to protect the rest of the immortal's sanctuary. And then, when he finally saw the true expanse and scale of the area, he could only utter one word under his breath.

"Beautiful..."

It went unknown if it was meant in reference to how the candlelight illuminated his guide, painting him in a soft yellow, just dim enough for his eyes to handle, or if he was in awe of the hundreds upon thousands of books before his eyes.

"I know."

There was silent satisfaction within the snake man now. He knew in his heart this will be a decision he does not regret, as he quietly observed the other man explore the shelves with such carefulness. The naga was just glad someone understood the fragility and importance of the texts. The importance they held to him.