#naga!eclipse

The top of the aechmeas grows heavy. Paired with a thick and robust blossom and sharp, tiny spines along the margins of its leaves, it will grow unbalanced and yet, perfectly suited for these conditions. 

Aechmea. You say it softly under your breath. EEK-me-uh. A Greek word meaning spear tip. You’ve already pricked your fingers on its yellow-green fronds and marveled at the gorgeous flora. You carefully take your camera, aching fingertips pressing down to snap a picture of the flower hooked upon the trunk of the rubber tree. 

It is incredible how it leans upon the host plant. It could easily decide to infect the tree and steal its nutrients, draining it of life while gorging itself, but the flower is kind. It merely asks for a place to stay, and the tree provides for the sprawling flower in return. 

The quiet click of the camera echoes through the area. You lift your head once, surveying the nearby trees and the moisture-heavy air for signs of a visitor. You haven’t seen him for an hour or two. How strange for him to give you time to study when you are usually well interrupted by now. 

The jungle seems calm. It buzzes with its tiny creatures that attempt to nibble at your neck or sit on your boonie hat, and you’ll swat them away with a lazy hand before returning to your poor research journal bursting at the seams. You still only have a few pages left. 

You lower your camera and uncap your pen. The ink is dark and thick against the heavy pages, but you make note of the unique relationship this type of bromeliad has with the tree. There is still so much you have yet to uncover. You already climbed a tree containing passion flowers. Well, the more accurate description is that Eclipse carried you up a towering tree to reach the delicate blossoms and lounged with you for the rest of the afternoon in the shade of the canopy as you rambled about the flora. He seemed content in the way snakes are after digesting a large meal.

Your absence was not unnoticed.

Vanessa and Michael have gone to great lengths to see you keep human company with your ventures in the jungle, but it’s clear that they don’t entirely have the patience for your slow and methodical work, nor do their presence put you at ease. The last thing you wish is for Eclipse to find them near you, and take a dislike to their presence.

You shiver with the thought. Again, you reach out to try and brush against the outer edges of the aechmea leaves and end up pricking your thumb on the sharp spines. You draw back, alarmed at the sharpness of the pain before sticking your thumb in your mouth to nurse the small wound. You pull it back out to examine the small hole. Yes, the plant’s defenses are well attuned to this harsh environment.

Returning your hand to the pen, you take it up and ignore the pulse in your thumb as you describe the petals of the aechmea. Pink and tuft-like, and striking in the green environment.

The buzzing of insects has mercilessly left you. Occasionally, you will catch the chitter of monkeys or low grunts and growls of creatures off in the distance, but the quiet leaves you to describe the flower perfectly.

Oh. The jungle is never quiet. Not without good reason.

He must be here.

You lift your head again, and survey the trees around you. You sit near a cluster of them beside an opening of thick, low-level vegetation almost akin to a meadow. You peer across the short distance to the other side ringing the small space. There are more trees, perhaps walking palms, and is there something slipping in between their forked roots, watching you? Are those eyes or the wings of birds sitting still? Is that a predator or a friend?

Your skin prickles. You pose your mouth to call out, and ask who is there, but you don’t see anyone. Who would you be speaking to?

Perhaps you hope to see him, and are barely containing your own wistfulness.

You breathe slowly, feeling the silence.

Nothing reveals itself against the jungle. A frown crosses your mouth but you return to your journal, bowing over it as you jot another note about the sharpness of the spiny margins of the fronds. 

A rustle of leaves gives way to a rushing of scales. Before you can gasp, arms wrap around your waist and pull you from the jungle floor. The world twists and a powerful, serpentine body coils your legs in a vice as an embrace secures you to a defined, smooth chest. Your cry of surprise is muffled by joyous, sonorous hissing. Finding the arms caging your chest, you cling to them while noting the green hue of the naga’s scales, dotted with black, and the orange-yellow striping falling down the sides of the tail that now currently holds you hostage.

You breathe out, your pulse racing against the soft squeeze of powerful muscles and the overwhelming length that has folded you within its cage.

“Happy day, petal,” he laughs softly in hissing waves. “Did you miss me?”

“Eclipse,” you finally regain your breath from the strike of his touch. “How did I not see you?”

At least your arms are free this time to trace along his forearms, feeling the smoothness of his scales. His lower half constricts as you attempt to adjust your posture, as if trying to push free but you wouldn’t dare. You understand how he reacts to any struggling movements from you.

You fight to lower your pulse as it pounds in your skull. The mist of a breath falls upon the shell of your ear. The brilliant burning orange hues of Eclipse’s frills touch the corner of your vision when he bows low to murmur against your hair.

“I was right in front of you,” he chuckles, “Your human eyes don’t see very well in this jungle. But don’t feel disappointed. Nothing may see me when I don’t wish to be seen.”

You of course understand that anacondas have the perfect coloring to blend among the deep and yellowed greens of the forest, despite their massive size and length. Snakes have long since used their environment to their advantage to hide and lay ambuses, but you are a botanist, not a zoologist, and you are still stunned you did not see the massive predator right before you.

Yet, you do wish you could have noticed his presence. That something would have been familiar to your eyes despite the never-ending expansion of the vegetation.

He gives you a slight squeeze, and your lower half endures the slightest pressure from a fraction of his strength. Very easily he could crush you. He could steal the air from your lungs by only preventing your ribcage from filling with sweet oxygen. You have yet to discover if there is venom in his fangs.

But he nuzzles softly behind your ear, snuffing your hair as if a flower itself with the sweetest scent. 

“Were your eyes closed?” you ask softly, “I would have seen your eyes. They’re unmistakable."

The jewel-dark tones of his two different colored eyes are unmistakable. Emerald and sapphire. The sharp glints of an unmistakable predator using bright, glaring hues to hint at their lethal nature.

He pauses. You watch the end of his tail slip along the ground and wrap a little tighter around your ankles. A hum, deep and pleasing, rolls through him.

“No. I was watching you, my favorite flower,” he hums. “It is a good thing I was here to ensure your safety. Anything could have snatched you from your studies.”

You laugh albeit nervously.

“Eclipse, I think, uh, I have only ever been carried away from my work by you.”

He hums and it drowns out your concern. A quiet squeak leaves your lips when he caresses your throat and his tail twists slightly, pulling you further away from the aechmea and your dropped notebook, pen, and camera. The camera catches on sunlight, shining in the rare slant of sunlight reaching the jungle floor.

“I have a surprise for you.” He muses, glancing down to your equipment. He moves carefully, dragging you along with his movements as he takes your things. You suck in a sharp breath. 

“Careful,” you whisper, anxious.

He glances down at you, his eyes amused, before he unlocks you from his grasp and places the items in your arms. You immediately cling to your things, checking the journal for any water damage, much to your relief. 

“Hold onto those,” his eyes wink brightly in the wilderness, “We’re going for a stroll.”

A surprise stroll. Again. You hardly have a moment to speak before he unwinds his tail from your lower half. Straightening, he easily towers above you, poised on the great, muscular length of his tail before he scoops you into his arms as if you were a doll. His smile grows, revealing the wicked ends of his pearly white fangs before he turns away and zips you out of the clearing.

“Where are we going?” you gasp. “Eclipse, wait, Vanessa and Michael—”

“They are not here,” he replies with a coolness that sends icy shivers down your spine. “Come, petal, you will find it as lovely as I do.”

Your stomach flip flops as you marvel as to what it could be. Eclipse has carried you off into the depths of the wilds several times. 

“What is it?” You glance over his shoulder where he has you cradled against his chest. His body is lithesome and especially large. The lower half of his form moves in strong waves through the undergrowth and over fallen trees without missing a beat. You stare, memorized, at the pattern of black spots and yellow-orange stripes combined with the incredible stamina of his person. The naga is as impressive as he is impossible. 

“Ah, ah! There will be no spoiling the surprise,” he simpers. His tongue flicks out, a dark, sinuous thing with a forked end. He boops you once upon the head with his mouth. A peck of affection. You grow warm in the face.

He is excited. You can feel his hands flexing along your person, feeling your sides and legs, squeezing you a little closer to his heart. Your head is tucked back into the cage of his body. He hums, sissing softly as he winds into the emerald shadows.

But you feel safe. There is a reassurance that the apex predator of the jungle has you in his arms instead of his mouth. 

Unless he grows hungry.

You clutch your journal a little tighter and stare up at the brilliant adornments around Eclipse’s face. Like staring up at the sun through the canopy of the forest. The rays sharply frame his face and recount his dangerous aspects, but he looks down at you with a wide grin.

But you are a curious mind, and though you have accepted that your study of the aechmea has concluded for the day, that does not leave you lacking with new exploration.

“Are we going to take another nap in an angelim vermelho?” you try quietly, musing over the possibility. 

He once stole you up one of those vast trees. You were dizzy from the height but he wrapped his tail around you like a security blanket and sang you into a doze. You’re not sure how he knew you had suffered a particular rough night of itchy bug bites and restless dreams, but you woke up grateful for the moment, and glad that he did not let you fall.

“No,” he chuckles. “Be patient.”

But your mind is whirling with possibilities.

“You are not showing me another… kill, are you?” you ask with barely contained apprehension.

You nearly fainted at the sight of the black caiman he showed off to you. The sight of it, punctured with fangs, made your stomach curdle and your head grow faint, but he quickly took you by the shoulders and guided you away, albeit with a look of disappointment upon his face.

A single finger with a sharp claw presses to your lips. Your eyes widen. Eclipse bows low over you, never breaking his serpentine glide through the woods.

“It is a surprise, petal,” he hums and hisses all at once. “It is just ahead.”

You catch the chirr of many insects. You glance past Eclipse to the trees and vegetation hanging overhead, realizing that a water source is close by to support such flora.

He stops suddenly. You taste the sweetness of water upon the air. He lowers you upon your feet, and you brace for his tail to quickly wrap you up again.

Instead, his hands fall over your eyes, and you are blind to the world.

“Eclipse?” your voice quivers slightly.

“Trust me,” he singsongs. “Use those pretty legs and walk forward. Turn, just a little. There. Now, keep going.”

You move slowly, carefully. You cling to his wrists, vulnerable and exposed, and your heart falls into a quick gallop at what might lay ahead.

You feel the slope change slightly downwards. Eclipse murmurs for you to lift your feet above a fallen log. 

Then the toes of your boots come in contact with the soft splash of water. You gasp quietly at the coolness of it soaking into your socks.

“A gift for you, petal,” Eclipse says softly and lifts his hand from your eyes.

You blink against the glare of light refracted from the green surface of a pond. A beautiful, robust aquatic ecosystem teeming with giant lily pads.

You gape. Eclipse leans close behind you, his chin almost brushing your hair as you gaze over the stunning sight.

“Amazonian lily pads,” you look back at him. “They’re incredible. I have never seen them in person.”

He promised to show you them, and he delivered.

His eyes are wide and hungry, gazing upon you. He seems content with what he finds.

“Go on, do what you wish.” His encouragement is met with a nod of his brightly adorned head towards the pond.

You do not hesitate. You pick up your camera and immediately turn back to the water. The lily pads are enormous, spanning almost 10 feet in diameter, crowding the surface. The famous circular leaves turn up at the corners to form a shallow cup, and the outside margins are red and veined. You have been desperately hunting the lily pads since you first entered the rainforest, and Eclipse has brought you directly to them.

He does not restrain you from snapping pictures and cracking open your notebook to begin jotting down everything you see. The flowers are blooming. Oh, what beautiful timing. They only bloom for 48 hours. You find yourself sinking down to the ground, but before you can find wet earth to sit upon, the thickness of Eclipse’s tail becomes a seat, and his cool, green scales allow you to concentrate entirely on the flowers.

He lounges nearby, leaning against a tree while observing you. The very tip of his tail twists around by your feet, brushing against your ankles but never squeezing or distracting you from your study.

The flowers are white, sitting upon the surface with dozens and dozens of soft, silky petals that beg beetles to come and collect their pollen. They are so tiny compared to the lily pads, but they are vital to the plant's continuation. 

You write until your hand aches, and you write more before snapping a few more pictures. Then, you stop, and stare, breathlessly, at the sight.

The quiet serene breathes upon you. Turning to face Eclipse, you gaze softly at him. His eyes are half-slits, as if he were close to napping. His attention, however, is entirely upon you.

“Thank you,” you whisper. “Thank you so much, Eclipse.”

He straightens. Slowly, he holds out his arms, and when he takes you against him, your middle floods with the sensation of bird wings. He carefully sees your journal and camera are put aside before he reclines back with you upon his chest.

“You are welcome, my favorite flower,” he murmurs, pressing a soft kiss to your temple. “They are lovely, are they not?”

“Oh, they are stunning!” You beam as you find your head pressed against his chest, right above where his heart beats. The drum of it is strong and constant, You sigh as his tail coils softly around your waist and down your legs. “The lily pads are beautifully unique. Do you know how they pollinate?"

He hums sweetly, and strokes the top of your head with tapered fingertips.

“Enlight me, petal,” he hums. 

You beam. Lifting a finger to trace the lighter color of his chest, you begin to describe the process of the petals closing up on the beetle as the flower changes from female to male in preparation for the bugs to exchange the pollen among the other flowers.

The deep green stem stands tall and sprouts the flowers high, allowing you to stay standing on your feet as you sweep your camera aside and reach for your notebook. The pages are rimmed with your observations and small, simple sketches of each flora you have studied throughout your stay here in the jungle. Michael and Vanessa seem to appreciate your craft though don’t pursue the same interests. Their place here on the fridges of the wild, feral jungle is a fleeing mystery, but you hope they’re enjoying the beautiful, lush ecosystem as much as you are.

You lift your head at the sound of a steady hum whizzing through the air. A tiny creature floats, its wings blurring with the speed of its flight, and dips low to sip at the nectar of the heliconia. A smile spreads softly over your lips. 

Hummingbirds are drawn to the sweet taste of this flowering plant. The small fowl’s feathers shine with an iridescent blue and green. Another flit by. This one pauses just long enough for you to spy its ruby throat. You lower your book for just a moment. Sometimes you get lost in your botany—unable to see the flowers for the petals—but now and then a creature who loves the plants as you do gives a gentle reminder to admire the brilliant red and deep green colors for a moment. 

Another hummingbird with a wonderfully rare purple sheen and gray body buzzes over to a nest. You jot down a gentle note of what the flower attracts as well as its pollinators. The ink needs a moment to try and stick to the thick paper. Your book is about to overflow, with a few pages left spared but not for too long. There are still giant lily pads you wish to observe upon the water and passion flowers high up in the canopy that you must find a way to climb up to. 

You lower your notebook and pause for a moment. It’s strange. You’ve been here for the better half of the morning and haven’t had any interruptions. This is the most research you’ve done in a good while. 

Taking the blessing for what it is, you bow your head and scribble more, noting the bright color and how it thrives upon the jungle soil. There is nothing richer on earth but this Amazonian floor. The most abundant resources of natural, green goods are right before you and you get to observe each flora up close.

You lift your head again. The heliconia is abundant and red, a few tipped in yellow and a rare, stray stem has a tinge of blue to their edges. Beautiful. You step closer, wondering what genetics carried this special trait into this patch of bright reds. Was it cross-pollinated or did a seed get laid here from another stretch of open, flowering land?

The silence settles over you after a moment. Sweeping over the heliconia, you realize the hummingbirds scattered, silent, and swift, leaving you in a heavy quiet. Even distant birds calling and chirping have calmed. The unnatural hush of an otherwise thriving jungle touches you with a warning. 

Your heart stops in your chest.

Your poor notebook drops from your hands, pages, and pen falling. Pointing your feet away from the patch of heliconia, you fail to take a single step before a soft hiss cuts through the air. You cry out as a strike of a lithe, long arms seizes you from behind and a powerful tail sweeps around your legs. A sharp gasp rips from your throat. In a moment of your world spinning, you’re pulled forcibly into a constricting embrace. 

It takes mere seconds. A tail of green scales, dotted with black, quickly twists you into its coils before a soft hum echoes. You fight the urge to squirm as the thick, corded muscle climbs up your legs, locking them together before winding around your waist. Orange-yellow striping on either side of his long, serpentine form cages you within his grasp. Your arms are, unfortunately, caught in the naga’s constriction. You tug on them experimentally but only receive an answering squeeze in return, your ribs tested for a mere moment. A breath slips away from you.

“Happy day, petal.”

You lift your eyes from your trapped body to face the one enforcing your precarious position. Eclipse. The naga hovers over you, balancing on his tail while keeping you in place. The length of his body is utterly incredible. Ropes of thick, powerful muscle spread across the jungle floor and neatly spiral around you, all while leaving enough to support his humanoid torso. 

You try to shift, to find a little more breathing room, but the naga decides to recline you back instead, setting you into an unsettling position where he can creep up his coils to admire you up close. His fangs flash in a ravenous grin. His venom glistens on the razor-sharp tips before he swipes them away with his dark, slender tongue.

“H-hi, Eclipse,” you answer in a rattle. Yet, a smile manages to work its way onto your lips. “Did you have to startle me?”

“I thought you would know it’s me saying hello. Who else would catch you like this?” he rumbles low and deep and the sound vibrates through your own body. You clench your teeth just to keep them from chattering.

He tilts his head as if he finds you adorable—or appetizing. The frills decorating him are as bright as any jungle flower, orange-yellow, and almost hypnotic in the gradient hues. Slitted pupils observe you in the way you might have just been studying the heliconia, interest keen and desirous.

A nervous sound leaves you, somewhere between amusement and fear. “You can say hello without catching me next time,” you offer. “It would be less… frightening.”

His coils shift around you slowly as if tempted by the thought of squeezing until your lungs can’t expand anymore. You glance briefly down to see what his tail may do next.

“Are you frightened right now, petal?” A clawed hand hooks your chin. Eclipse lifts your face to hold your gaze. You swallow back a few mouthfuls of apprehension. A pulse in your arm presses back against the thick serpentine body. You hope he can’t feel it.

You know he does.

“No,” you answer, then truthfully, “not anymore.”

He hums thoughtfully. The sound echoes with a hissing undertone and gradually softens. His eyes survey you with slitted pupils, one a midnight blue, the other deep emerald, even darker than his scales.

“I agree. I’ve held many prey in my coils but you don’t struggle like them. They bite and claw and cry out,” he answers, drawing it out with a slithering sound that spills heat into your core. “But you; you resist little. You’re as soft as fruit in my palms. You’re deliciously small.”

He lifts out his other hand and slowly tilts your hat up and up until it falls away, stumbling down his coils to lie flat by your notebook and pen. The very breath within you catches as he turns his hand and runs the back of his crooked finger down your cheek, admiring you closely. You lean away on instinct but the snare of his scales gives you little room to escape. Softly, he reaches up and strokes your head. His claws comb down your hair. His tongue flicks out so close to your nose, you wonder if he intends to lick you.

“Although there is one aspect you carry with the rest of my prey,” he simpers. He leans close enough that his fangs glisten in the mottled sunlight. “You look good enough to eat.”

The tempo of your heart rate becomes a beating drum within you. 

“What do you eat?” you ask breathlessly, as if you could stall his hunger.

“Oh, whatever trots my way,” he slips a claw over the shell of your ear, causing you to shiver, much to his delight. His coils cinch around you tighter in what you suspect is a desire to feel every shuddering muscle within you. Your cheeks burn.

“Like?” you prod, trying to regain control of your racing pulse but failing miserably. 

He flashes a sinister smile and a drop of venom slips into his saliva before he licks it away.

“Monkeys are fine for a meal. Jaguars are a delicacy that I’ll indulge in when I have the chance. If I’m in the mood to work up my appetite, I’ll hunt black caiman. Otherwise, I’ll dine on a giant otter.” He watches you closer as you comprehend the strength of his ability to target other predators. Truly, nothing can stop him if he so desires. 

You’ve learned much about Eclipse in the short time you’ve encountered him—or rather, he’s stalked and caught you. He is the apex predator of this ecosystem. He glides between the trees and turns into mottled shadows under the dense canopy and possesses a head as brilliant as any blossom. You do not know the animal kingdom as well as your flora, but you know he is the king within this jungle.

And he favors you, somehow. Though he has played with you like a cat with a mouse, he has never delivered a venomous bite with his wicked fangs or squeezed you until you couldn’t breathe anymore. You don’t know what to name this obsession he holds for you but it’s enough to spare your life. It’s enough to convince you that he cares for you. 

A nice theory you’ve come to consider is that you are in the safest place in the jungle right now, protected by the apex predator’s serpentine body. It’s enough to make your heart soften whenever he wraps you tight in his tail. After the initial shock has worn away, of course.

“I imagine they, ahem, taste fine,” you say, though your tongue is a bit dry.

“Such meals hold a very excellent taste, but I prefer a new flavor as of late,” a low rumble moves through him. 

You swallow roughly. His eyes catch the motion, dropping down to your throat where it bobs before his grin seems to sharpen. His fangs lie on full display.

He tilts your head back slightly, allowing sunlight to brighten your face. “Now I want to know more about what you’ve been up to, petal. What are you studying today?”

“Heliconia,” you answer. He captures you in his intense gaze. You nearly wish you could look away just to concentrate on forming words on your tongue. “The, ah, scientific name is heliconia latispatha, but it’s sometimes called lobsterclaw.”

“Say that again,” he commands.

You almost spit out ‘lobsterclaw’ but catch your mistake before you can simmer in embarrassment. In a steady voice, you repeat, “Heliconia latispatha.”

His eyes close briefly, sealing away the jewel-dark colors of his gaze. For a moment, you study him, fascinated by how he tilts his head as if turning an ear towards you.

“Beautiful,” he hisses softly. His eyes open, slitted pupils thinning in the brightness of the day before he nods. “Tell me more.”

You sputter once before continuing into details about their relationship with hummingbirds. Eclipse lets you spill into a monologue. His attention never lapses as you so often find in those who ask about your botany studies only to realize you are giving them an accurate answer, not a simple and inadequate one-note description. You can almost forget that you can’t move your limbs while falling into a ramble of your studies.

While you speak, his coils keep you cool. His smooth, sleek scales effortlessly ease your sweating while slowly shifting around you, occasionally squeezing as if grasping your hand to remind you that he is here, listening. His tongue flickers out once while he traces your jawline and even your lips when you tell of hoping to locate giant lily pads.

“I will take you to see them,” he says after you pause. Your eyes widen. He grins as his claws slip along your temple, trailing your hairline. 

“Really?” you breathe. You’ve been searching for them for so long—even Michael and Vanessa reported that they have stumbled upon many yet in their travels around the jungle.

“Of course.” Eclipse’s simper deepens while he lets his hand fall to cup your cheek. “Anything is yours. You must only say the word, my favorite flower.”

Your lips part but no sound falls out of your mouth. Eclipse’s eyes drink you in as you wriggle in the slightest, unable to contain your eagerness despite how tightly you are held. His tail moves in answer. Scales shift you towards him as Eclipse leans over you, closing the distance.

“Eclipse.” Your mouth finally moves. His name fills it. He stirs, his thin eyelids fluttering briefly as ripples of muscle fall down his tail.

“Say that again,” he commands.

Your throat bobs before you shift your shoulders. His hands fall to the neckline of your shirt, tugging on it slightly to expose your collarbone.

“Eclipse.” Your cheeks heat with a red as bright as the heliconia. 

“Petal,” he hisses gently, “You’re so sweet and precious. Like nectar. I want to taste you.”

Oh.

You want to say something, that you are not nectar but a very simple, boring human, but you aren’t sure if that’s the right thing to say in the face of a predator who lies inches away from your mouth. He draws his hand under your shirt and palms your shoulder, covering your shoulder blade. He tilts your head up. A soft gasp escapes you when he squeezes you softly, and then as if stealing your air, he captures your mouth. He pushes gently, tasting your lips and grazing them with his slick fangs. Quiet sounds escape you, your hands clenching and your knees rubbing together, unable to take his face in your hands and hold him in return. It’s almost maddening. Almost.

A low hiss breaks the kiss as he draws back. His gaze, despite his serpentine aspects, is soft and glowy. You spin slowly after the contact like you were on your feet one moment and lifted off them the next.

“Perhaps we might find a lily as pink as your cheeks,” he murmurs, much to your embarrassment. His smile is devilish but his tongue slowly traces your cheekbone, and you close your eyes.