Awareness returned, and with it... well... it was more the pain that alerted him to the fact that he was aware rather than the other way around. Several things hit him at once, far too much for his aching head and abused brains to sort out at any point in the near future, so he just ignored it all and lay there, hurting and hoping to return to the darkness where pain couldn't find him. Except, he was shivering and the sensation of being incredibly cold was drawing him more towards the inescapable destination of full consciousness. "nnnno..." he mumbled into the mud, air bubbling in the scummy water pooled there.
"Flagoon?" a nearby voice asked softly, an overwhelmingly loud sound from someone kneeling beside his head. Hands- uncomfortably hot- pulled his shoulder and rolled him out of the puddle he'd been laying face down in, his head lifted and placed on something soft. The movement would have made him lose his lunch if he'd eaten lately, as it was, he felt as if he'd continued to move even after he'd physically stopped and he didn't like that sensation.
His mouth tasted like dirt. Gritty... "uhg..." his stomach clenched, threatening a bout of painful dry-heaving that he didn't feel like having at the moment.
Those hot hands were on his face, smoothing back his slimy hair, brushing dirt from his skin and the voice- which he finally identified as female- continued to speak softly, "Oh Flagoon... what am I to do with you? A tree in a human body- you won't know anything!"
A ...tree...? now that she mentioned it, he took a quick inventory of his own battered spirit, finding that the torn edges where Zanafaar had been were now joined with something else. It was another powerful entity, but it was based in white magic and had a leafy texture and pulsed amber and green like sap. Oh CEPHIED! His eyes opened with the shock and he stared up at her face: Sylphiel, the last shrine maiden of Flagoon. No need to ask why she was here, Flagoon had called her, and Flagoon was... was...
What the hell IS this! I'm plagued with parasitic women, demons, and trees! At last, a coherent thought, and following that... Oh my god. I'm alive. Now this last thought wasn't one expressed out of pleasure. He'd actually liked being dead more than he'd liked living, as he'd not had anyone at all around to hurt him or use him, and he'd been remarkably free of pain. In fact, life in those last few seconds had been amazingly painless and he'd been too dizzy with lack of blood to really be able to care much about what Lina and her cohorts had said or did, so those last five minutes of his life had been great in the grand scheme of things.
And you're telling me I've gotta do it AGAIN? I hate you. Whoever you are that has done this to me. May a Southwest wind bite your ass and the fleas of a thousand mutts plague you! He squeezed his eyes shut again and shivered before forcing his lids open again, trying to focus past the spots in his vision.
Sylphiel was smiling at him, "Don't worry, Flagoon, I'll take care of you." Her hot hands brushed more dirt and mud off his face.
Above, the sky was dark, studded with stars, the taste in the air told him that it was spring and it had rained the day before. Lastly, and most confusingly, he was in Sairaag, in a pit.
He hadn't left a pit when he'd died... not here, where Flagoon had stood. How had Flagoon lost its physical form for that matter? Last he'd seen it, the damn thing had been quite healthy. Another violent shiver coursed through his body. Flagoon was confused, it didn't understand what all these strange sensations were, and obviously, it was looking to him for guidance on what to do about this uncomfortable state. Of course, he had hardly the thought power to do more than gape at Sylphiel and make incoherent grunts at her. It was up to her to do something about the situation, because he had a good idea that getting up and walking was beyond his capabilities at the moment.
"Oh Flagoon," she sighed, "you'll catch a fever like this." He was shifted again, off her lap and she moved to haul him up into a sitting position and pulled his arms around her shoulders. "Unf... you're really heavy," she complained, and it wasn't like he could do anything about it except get his fingers to move and clutch at her as she cast a levitation spell. Twisting a sour expression, she added, "and you stink. First thing we'll do is get you a bath when we get to my house. That should take care of two things at once."
Limp and unresisting, he was lifted off the ground and upwards, out of the pit, towards a campfire in the distance that had burned down to a dull glow. She held onto him, fingers digging into his flesh in places that shot new waves of ache through his body from head to toe. He mumbled in dazed protest of this treatment, and she apologized, but didn't loosen her grip. Given no choice, he clutched at her, pulling some of her hair by accident, but she only winced and continued towards their destination.
His feet touched the ground first, followed by his knees as his legs turned to jelly when he tried to put weight on them. She landed and slid him down to the ground gently as she could. His head cracked on a rock. Sylphiel bit her lower lip and left him where he was a moment as she pulled out her bedroll and spread it on the ground, then rolled him over onto it. Her cloak followed and was tucked around him snugly before she began building up the fire.
Vision was wavering in and out of focus, and he wanted to just pass out, but that seemed an impossible goal at the moment, so he just stared at her in silence while she got out food and water after the fire was blazing. His temperature began to rise as blood returned to his extremities and after a brief struggle, he pushed her cloak off, baking in his torn and stained robes. Not that he was ever going to wear them again with that big bloody hole in the front. He wanted a bath, he wanted to sit in hot water up to his neck and sit there till he got wrinkled and pale. Was that too much to ask for at the moment?
Probably.
Sylphiel returned to his side and put her hand to his cheek. "That's better," she said and smiled, "It looks like you'll pull through this." Though her eyes became a bit worried as she stared at his face, "...How much trouble could you get into?" she asked herself and shook her head, pushing her hair back behind her shoulders before prying him up into a sitting position again. At least this time, he could be of a little assistance, and managed to prop himself up on his elbows while she carefully fed him broth which tasted like the best thing under the heavens, and it had the dual purpose of washing some of the grit out of his mouth. Alas, he was forced to just swallow the dirt along with the broth. "Best stick to liquids for a while," she told him, "keep it to things you're familiar with."
She really did think he was the bloody tree and nothing more! Cephied... but she wasn't trying to kill him, so what was the point of telling her? That would only add complications to the situation- something neither of them needed right now, he figured. Once he'd washed the taste of mud and worms from his mouth, he relaxed back into the blankets. The full stomach was doing him a world of good; that and being warm. Before long, sleep had overtaken him, and that was a welcome relief to them both.
Sylphiel sat near him, staring at the face of the destroyer of Sairaag, but her heart told her that it was Flagoon that was really gazing back at her through those mismatched eyes. The poor thing, it was probably confused and dazed, Sylphiel imagined that being a tree was a lot different from being a human- humans were much more complicated, they had to do so much more than a tree ever had to, just to survive. "But I'm here," she whispered, watching as his eyes dropped shut and his breathing evened out to a steady sleep rhythm. Good, he obviously needed the rest. Beneath the dirt and grime, he was pale as a ghost. "In a way, he is," Sylphiel observed, then shook her head, reaching over to push back his matted and gritty hair. It was so dirty the color had changed from violet to black, his robes were going to be thrown away once she got him back to her home, but she wasn't looking forward to the chore of scrubbing him clean. Sylphiel sighed, figuring that the best way to do it would be to have him sit there and her pour water over him. She blushed darkly at the thought, but she was a healer.
It wasn't as if she hadn't seen naked men before- she'd helped the other shrine maidens in the clinic numerous times, after all, not all wounds could be fixed with healing immediately, and some you couldn't use magic on. Wasting diseases numbered among those, and people who couldn't get up weren't able to wash themselves. "Just like taking care of a sick person," Sylphiel stated, "that's all it will be. Maybe he'll learn how to do it himself after a few times. But what would a tree care about dirt? He probably doesn't even care how bad he smells right now..." Heaving a sigh, she wiped her hands on her pants. "I need a bath too. Just handling him has gotten me covered in muck." She lifted her shirt slightly and sniffed at it. Yes, she smelled like pond scum and earthworms too.
Lowering her hands, Sylphiel leaned back on them, staring at the blazing flame that wafted heat and smoke towards her in a puff of breeze. Beside her, Flagoon murmured in his sleep and twitched spastically, opened his eyes to stare at her for a long moment before seeming to recognize her. It took a moment more for him to relax again and close his eyes. Looking up at the sky, Sylphiel sighed, it would be another few hours before dawn and the moisture in the air was settling, the fire burning down slowly. Flagoon sneezed, and then again, moving to curl up on his side with his back towards the fire. He issued one final sneeze before he lay still and fell asleep again.
Sylphiel was too keyed up to sleep, though she knew she should get some rest while Flagoon was incapable of wandering off. Who knew what the tree might do now that it had feet! Would Flagoon be curious as a toddler and into everything, or stoic and stubborn when it came to moving any distance? The first would be a pain, the second simply frustrating, but easier to manage.
Finally, Sylphiel pulled her cloak over, seeing as how Flagoon didn't want to use it, and spread herself out on it.
By the way, I don't own Slayers, and if you get hurt reading this Fluff/Angst fic.. um. not my fault either! PLEASE review! I like reviews. They make me want to write