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Chapter Text

Of the thirteen realms, the Land of the Forgotten could be considered one of the most depressing and empty, though it was nothing compared to the Land of the Cursed just beneath it. It was always snowing, and the sharp edges and stalactites gave the realm and unwelcoming air. There was not a single sign of color nor life, other than the Forgotten souls that wandered around seeking the comfort they would never find.

In the middle of that gray realm was a castle with the shape of two coiling serpents, in the middle of a great lake of lava; the snakes had open mouths with sharp teeth, one of them containing the throne room of its Lord and Master. Candles of green fire were lit on various parts of the outside, giving the castle an even more eerie appearance. The bridge that connected it with mainland had also the shape of two serpents, showing that the ruler of that realm had an affinity for the reptiles.

However, the color palette of the realm and castle didn't apply to one of these rooms. Its walls were a light cherry pink with painted flowers and swirls colored golden and lavender as well as white edges. The lamps were golden rather than green, giving this room a warm air contrasting the rest of the castle. The floor was layered with a pink carpet, and there were different toys scattered on the floor, and bedside tables painted white. The canopy bed was king-sized, the tester panel almost reached the ceiling, and decorative magenta fabric draped across it. The covers were light pink, and the pillows were stuffed with swan feathers.

Currently occupied, a child of five year old lay beneath the covers, hugging a stuffed purple snake. Her hair was dark, almost as dark like the realm she grew up in, yet her sugar skin was a contrastingly white, with golden markings on her arms and little face. Her eyes, though, were a tone of green with red pupils, and little black wings with golden tips stuck out from beneath her back.

She smiled innocently at the gentle woman sitting in the edge of her bed. "Would you tell me a story, mami?"

The Goddess who was her mother smiled sweetly at her with her ruby red lips. She and her daughter were very alike; in fact, the little one had taken after her mostly. The older woman had sugar skin with golden markings on her arms and face, as well as dark blue eyelids. Her warm golden eyes looked down at her child with adoration and love. Dark waves of wavy dark hair reached her knees; she was wearing a knee-length pinkish nightgown. Her delicate fingers brushed a hair off her child's face.

"Of course, chiquita." Her voice was sweet like honey. "What kind of story would you like to hear?"

"It's something I've been wanting to ask, mami."

"What is it, dearie?"

"Well-"

Before the child can continue, the doors to her room open and a god of tar that seemingly came from the depths of hell stepped into the room and approached the bed with his hands behind his back. Unlike the Goddess and child, he looked like a black skeleton, with green markings on his face and a glowing green neck of ectoplasm. Two dark, scarred wings protruded from his back, and were tucked close to his body. A great black cloak hung from his waist and covered his skeletal legs. A purple bathrobe hid his strong chest from view. He had two long, curly white moustaches and a well-kept, carefully combed beard, as well as thing yet bushy eyebrows, all colored snow white. But the unique feature around him were his skull pupils, colored red like blood, in two wide pools of acidic green. His very presence usually inspired fear in the hearts of those in his presence.

But not in this case.

The child beamed at him. "Papi!"

The old god smiled at his child with a tenderness and love one would have never thought to see in his eyes. He came to a halt right next to his wife and child. "How are my special girls doing tonight?"

"Mami was going to tell me a story." The girl replied gently.

His gaze shifted to the beautiful woman as he sat down behind to her and rested his chin on her shoulder. "Aww, you were starting without me?" he whispered into her ear before kissing her cheek, making her giggle.

"Ay, Balby…" the Goddess sighed, caressing his cheek gently.

"Papi, that's gross!" the child stuck out her tongue in disgust, making both her parents laugh softly.

"Well, mi florecita, what kind of story would you like to hear?" the dark god smiled at his daughter, ruffling her dark hair fondly.

"I was just about to ask mami."

The woman smiled. "You're right, sweetie, what were you going to say?"

"How did you and papi meet?"

Both her parents glanced at each other in surprise, before her father spoke. "It's a rather long story, dear daughter."

"I don't mind, papi… I'll stay awake."

"I think she's old enough to hear that story, my love…" the goddess grabbed her husband's much larger hand with a small smile.

"If you insist, mi amor…" the dark god glanced down at his child with tender eyes. "You'll be surprised to hear that your mami and I didn't get along at first."

As he expected, the girl's eyes widened a bit and she clutched her stuffed snake closer. "You didn't?!" She had seen her parents interacting with each other, and she could clearly see they were very much in love.

Her mother giggled. "That's right, chiquita. It all started with a rather… unusual wedding."

Chapter Text

The sky was blue, and there were a few cotton white clouds on the sky, transparent under the golden and warm sun. The sunlight reflected upon the golden spires and towers of Aztlan, its warmth sharing with all living creatures its sustenance. Right now, the City of the Gods was boiling with movements as preparations for a ceremony were being held. White flowers were hanged from colorful poles in the garden and ribbons were used to adorn rows of chairs being placed over the soft grass. Servants prepared the ballroom for a grandiose party to which all gods were invited; a great hand-painted pink five-layered cake with sugar flowers was placed upon the banquet table. After all, such a special occasion had to be celebrated for the happiness of the bride; they said that a woman's wedding was the happiest day in her life; because she would join her life to the man she loved the most forever.

Or at least, that's the case for most women. Not all.

Princess La Muerte from the Land of the Remembered looked at her reflection in the mirror, examining her wedding dress and veil. Xochiquétzal had outdone herself this time; it was a fully draped strapless charmeuse fit and flare gown with soft sweetheart neckline and low hip accented with crystal beaded lace appliqué and small flowers. The train was chapel length, and the silhouette was mermaid type. Her long hair was tied into a side ponytail, with white roses adorning it.

La Muerte sighed and walked towards the boudoir, where her bouquet was; roses and ranunculus in peach, orange, pink and white, paired with green succulents. She looked beautiful, and were the circumstances different she would have been very happy. She was to be wed today, but not to the man of her dreams. Her hand had been reluctantly given but willing on her part, to one of the darkest, most feared gods in the pantheon.

Lord Xibalba.

The Last of the Ancient Lords of the Underworld. She didn't actually know him that much, she had seen him a few times, arriving to her father's castle on his mighty black steed. She didn't interact with him very much, other than the few times she had accidentally ran into him, and she always felt a shiver run down her spine whenever she felt the red skulls he had for pupils upon her, like he was staring into her very soul. So, why was she marrying with someone she didn't love? Why did she grant her hand in marriage to this cruel god and allow herself to be at his mercy?

The answer was simple.

"Lord Xibalba, I can offer you anything else-"

"No." the dark god's reply was dry and curtly.

"I'd give you whatever you wish, but my kingdom-"

"We made a bet by the Ancient Rules, and you lost. Now you must pay."

She didn't mean to overhear what they were saying, but when she heard something about a wager-her greatest flaw was her addiction to them-that involved her beloved realm, she couldn't resist. However, judging by their tone of voice, this conversation wasn't a pleasant chat.

"Must I remind you that you gave your word that if you lost our bet, I would control the Land of the Remembered?" Xibalba spoke with his smooth tone, clutching his two-headed snake staff as he circled around King Sol like a serpent circling a mouse. "Do I need to remind you what happens to those who break the Ancient Rules?"

"I perfectly know that once a promise is made it must be kept!" King Sol did his best not to snap at his guest. "But I've ruled this kingdom ever since I can remember, it's my daughters' heritance for when I am too old, I've interacted and helped with these Remembered souls for eons-"

"Are you done with your sermon?" Xibalba hissed. "I don't have all day, I just came to tell you that since I won, I am the new ruler of the Land of the Remembered."

La Muerte gasped in shock and horror; him? The new King? She didn't want to imagine how that dark entity would rule this colorful and festive realm, how he would treat their beloved subjects. Would he be a tyrant? Would he enslave these souls? She was so worried she nearly overlooked the smirk on Xibalba's face.

"But I'm feeling benevolent today, so I've decided to give you another option." His teeth became sharp as he spoke.

There was hope in King Sol's eyes. "Another option? You mean you won't take my kingdom?"

"Don't you know it's rude to interrupt someone?" the dark lord spoke impatiently. "I will give you two options, Sol. The first, is to hand over your kingdom to me as we agreed by the Ancient Rules, or…" Xibalba licked his lips. "You can give me one of your daughters."

La Muerte's eyes widened in shock, as well as King Sol's. "W-What are you saying?!"

"See, the Land of the Forgotten has become rather lonely these days, and I am in the need of a wife to attend my needs. Don't worry, I shall treat her fairly and I won't lay a harmful hand on her. I'm above such barbaric acts, after all, so you won't have to fear for her well-being."

Naturally, as any rational father would do, Sol clenched his fists. "No."

This actually caught Xibalba by surprise. "Excuse me?"

"I know you, Xibalba, you are one of the cruelest gods in existence. You kill in cold blood, you are brutal and vicious, and you expect me to entrust you with one of my daughters? I love them too much to hand any over to a monster such as you-!" he couldn't continue, for soon he had Xibalba's gloved claws grasping his throat, threatening to choke him.

"Careful with your words, Sol." Xibalba hissed, his teeth turned into pointed triangles, his skull pupils rotated forward. "You just said so yourself, I can be very cruel if you provoke me."

"I'd rather die than hand over any of my daughters to you." The old King choked when Xibalba's grip tightened around his throat.

"If you insist…"

"NO!"

La Muerte could stand it no longer, and she ran into the meeting room, but stopping once Xibalba turned his attention to her, his skull pupils still rotated. Once she managed to overcome her shock and fear, the young Goddess calmed down and thought about what she would say next. She knew what would happen; either her father would lose his crown to Xibalba, or that dark god took either her or her little sister as his bride. She couldn't allow this monster to do any of that, she had to do something.

"I will do it." La Muerte spoke gently. "I offer myself as your bride, Lord Xibalba."

"La Muerte, no!" Sol cried out desperately. "You don't know what he is capable of!"

Xibalba was examining La Muerte's body with his eyes like a critic examining a piece of art. Finally he said. "Are you certain?"

She closed her eyes. "If you will not do any harm to my realm nor family, I shall be your wife."

The dark god thought for a moment, staring at La Muerte's curves with lust-filled eyes, and grinned with sharp teeth. "Very well, my dear."

La Muerte shivered at the memory, his eyes peering at her body and maybe even her soul; she was starting to regret this decision, but it was too late to back away. If this meant that her father and little sister would be safe from Xibalba's clutches, then she'd gladly endure his cruelty until he grew tired of her, or she died from heartbreak, whatever happened first.

There was a knock at the door. "Milady, we are ready to begin with the ceremony."

Sighing with resignation, La Muerte picked up her bouquet and headed to the door, making her way down the hall towards the main courtyard, where she would join her life to him. It would be the end of her world, and the beginning of their world; she had always been a strong woman, that's what everyone said, but now she wasn't sure that she would endure being Xibalba's wife. There was a reason he had never married, no woman in her sane judgment would ever think of pairing up with him.

The gods had already taken their seats in the chairs, wearing their best clothing for the occasion, her father and younger sister among the front rows; Aimé was weeping of anguish in far for her older sister's wellbeing, while Sol cursed himself for not being able to protect his daughter from this. Quetzalcóatl and Xibalba were at the altar, watching solemnly as La Muerte walked down the carpet laid on the grass for her; Xibalba was already impatient for his bride to come to his side. She didn't even look at him as she came to a stop right next to him, her veil covering her face.

Quetzalcóatl started with the speech he had recited so many times to happy couples. "Dear brethren, we are gathered here to join this God and this Goddess in matrimony…"

La Muerte didn't hear the rest of his words, she was too concerned by the fact that being too close to Xibalba gave her chills; she was dreading their wedding night, wondering if he would force her to be with him. Her father had only agreed to the marriage if Xibalba gave his word that he'd never force La Muerte to do something she didn't want to do, but she wasn't sure if the dark god would fulfill on his end of the deal. It was a while before the vows had to be made.

"La Muerte, do you accept Xibalba as your legitimate husband, to love and care for him for the rest of eternity?"

A tear ran down her face as she replied with a dry throat. "I do." For my father and my people.

Quetzalcóatl turned to Xibalba. "And Xibalba, do you accept La Muerte as your legitimate wife, to protect her and love her till death does you apart?"

"I do." Xibalba replied curtly, his hands behind his back, still as cold as an ice floe.

Then there was the ring exchange. La Muerte contained the urged to tremble in fear when the dark god took her hand-strangely gentle-and slid a simple golden band in her finger; she did the same, though she didn't dare remove his glove, fearing he'd get angry. Quetzalcóatl finally put an end to the ceremony with a grave voice. "I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may kiss the bride."

La Muerte didn't say anything to protest, but she did glimpse her father turning his head away in anguish for what was to come. Aimé was weeping openly now, her face hidden in her hands. Thankfully, it was a quick kiss, but it was neither romantic nor heart-warming; the feeling of his tar lips on her own was not a pleasant one, but she remained quiet.

Xibalba wanted to leave after the ceremony was over, he was never the type to enjoy parties that much, but she asked him to let her say goodbye to her family. Though reluctant at first, he decided to comply this once, since she would probably not see them again.

"Take care of yourself, big sis." Aimé sobbed, embracing her older sister, clutching the bouquet of flowers her sister had given her.

"I'll be fine, Amy." La Muerte soothed her with a hug. "I'll try to write as soon as possible."

"La Muerte…" King Sol took his eldest by the shoulders with a pained look. "My dear daughter, I'm so sorry that I couldn't spare you this fate."

"Do not blame yourself, father. I took this decision on my own accord."

"If he does something to you, anything, tell me and I'll storm into his realm to bring you back home no matter if I have to take an army with me."

"I'll take care, you don't have to worry."

The old god embraced his daughter, and she returned the hug with stinging eyes from tears. Xibalba was unmoved by this show of affection, and coughed impatiently. Aimé so wanted to behead him for taking her big sister away, but she knew better than to mess with an Ancient God. Knowing it was time to go, La Muerte kissed her father and sister goodbye and grabbed unto her new husband's arm, as he led her away.

The servants had his horse ready, in the gates. La Muerte had to admit, this steed looked very well-cared for, and it greeted its master with a snort. It was a beautiful sable black Friesian stallion with green swirls on legs, neck and head, very large, much more than her father's horses. She felt a shiver run down her spine when the horse set his red eyes on her. Xibalba said nothing as he gently took his wife by the waist and helped her climb unto the saddle, before climbing unto the saddle himself and taking the reins. The stable hands quickly moved out of the way as the dark god led his horse out the gates at a trotting pace; La Muerte had never ridden a horse like this before, but she dare not protest. Xibalba seemed to know what she was thinking, however, when they were a good distance away from Aztlan he pulled on the reins of the horse to make him slow down into a walk.

"Better?" he inquired softly.

La Muerte was surprised by the gentleness in his voice, but she managed to give him a small nod. "Y-Yes." She could tell that riding on such a slow pace irritated him.

Xibalba was used to galloping and cantering, but with his new, inexperienced wife sharing the saddle with him he had to be careful. Still, this didn't mean he had to like it. "You should take a nap. It'll be a long while before we get home."

Home. How she wanted to tell him that wherever he was taking her was not her home, but he was right when he assumed she'd be tired, but she dare not fall asleep with him holding her, so she stiffened and tried her best to remain awake. Xibalba, however, misunderstood her signs with fear of falling off the saddle while asleep. And gently wrapped one of his wings around her. "Don't worry, I'm not letting you fall."

His wings may be burnt and scarred, but they were also surprisingly soft, warm and comfortable at touch, and it made La Muerte feel even drowsier than before. Her eyelids were becoming heavy, and after a while she couldn't take it any longer as her exhaustion overcame her, and she fell asleep.

Xibalba glanced down from the road when he felt La Muerte's head rest against his chest, and carefully accommodated her in his wing to make her comfortable. After all, they wouldn't arrive until much later.

La Muerte started to stir awake when she felt the smell of ash itching her nose, but she managed to contain the sneeze at the last moment. She felt warm and comfortable, and she cracked her eyes open upwards to see who was holding her, before she recalled the events from a few hours' ago.

"You're awake." Xibalba spoke, watching as his wife straightened back up from his chest.

"Where are we?" La Muerte inquired with a dry throat.

"We're just arriving, my dear."

Confused, the Goddess shifts in the dark God's arms to look around, and the new surroundings were very unfamiliar. There was not a single speck of color in the realm, only scales of grey and black, and almost everything consisted of sharp edges and triangular stalactites in both the ground around them and the 'ceiling', except for a few paths of ash and snow; it was constantly snowing with both ash and silver snow, giving her chills from the cold temperatures. However, when she looked ahead, her heart nearly stopped in fright.

Xibalba's castle was not welcoming in any way. It was like a great leaning tower, shaped like two coiling serpents, with dark candles of green fire burning on top of some edges and fangs. She didn't want to imagine who could live in a place like this, and yet the answer was holding her from behind. The castle was in the middle of a lake of hot burning lava, probably as a strategical measure in case anyone tried to attack it; the only connection with it to mainland was a narrow bridge, also carved like coiling serpents. She was starting to wonder why Xibalba had such an affinity for the legless reptiles.

After a few more minutes, they stopped in the base of the castle, where the black gates stood, facing a nearby stable, probably where he kept his horse. Xibalba was the first to dismount, before once again taking his wife by the waist and helping her climb down; then he patted his horse's neck gently, to which the animal replied with a soft snort and a swish of its long floor-length tail.

La Muerte was startled when she saw a blur of green and black run towards them, but relaxed when it stopped in front of the mighty steed to take its reins and glanced up at Xibalba. It was a skeletal lizard with black bones and green body, the tip of the fins of its head reaching Xibalba's ribs.

"Take Medianoche to his stall and give him warm straw and water, he's exhausted form the journey." The dark God ordered.

"Yes, My Lord." The lizard replied in a raspy voice, before leading the horse away.

La Muerte stared towards the lizard with wide eyes, until she heard Xibalba's voice. "Shall we go inside?"

Reluctantly taking his arm once more, La Muerte nodded subtly and allowed him to lead her inside, the gates opening to let their lord and master inside, before closing behind them. The halls of the castle were even scarier than the exterior, with walls of dark obsidian with a greenish hue due to the candles of green fire that illuminated them reflecting on them. There were few decorations, large vases with withered flowers or black carpets with trimmed purple snakes hanging from the wall, but not even those made this place a bit more pleasant.

"Follow me." Xibalba's baritone voice echoing in the halls made it even more scary. "I'll show you to your room."

"M-My room?" La Muerte blinked. "For myself?"

"I don't think you'll be comfortable sleeping with me just yet." Xibalba replied simply, not looking at her. "Besides, I gave my word to your father that I wouldn't force you to do anything you didn't want to."

She felt relieved that he did keep his word on that matter. She said nothing else as she followed him down the hall, up various rows of stairs, until they were upon two great oak doors. Xibalba turned one of the knobs and opened the door, glancing back at La Muerte and motioning her to take a look inside. She walked inside, and took a look at her new, rather unwilling residence. It was a beautiful in its own, dark and twisted way. The walls were, like those of the hall, made of stainless obsidian, but the fire on the candles was normal-colored. There was a boudoir at a side of the room, with a mirror and a small vase of dark red roses, miraculously not withered. A large king-sized bed with dark sheets and pillows was on the other side, with two bedside tables at both sides. There was a wardrobe, at the side of the room, where her things had already been accommodated by the servitude long before their arrival. At the end, were three great windows that overlooked into the lava lake around the castle, and a few kilometers further into the realm.

"I hope you will find it comfortable." Xibalba spoke gently. "If you need anything, you can call for me or my servants, okay?"

La Muerte nodded without saying a word.

"Very well." With those last words, he closed the door behind him and slowly walked down the hall, leaving his wife to settle in.

As soon as she was alone, La Muerte couldn't take it any longer, and she broke down in tears, falling on top of the bed and burying her face into the pillows. They were surprisingly comfortable, but it didn't offer her any comfort. This whole realm had a depressing air that made her want to cry; there was no color, no happiness, no hope, only sorrow and despair. Up to now Xibalba had treated her well, coldly but well, but she didn't know in how much time he'd show her his true colors. His cruelty.

In other words, she was afraid.

She'd miss her father dearly. Her baby sister. Her subjects and her realm. She doubted Xibalba would let her return there ever, she was a prisoner in her own golden cage. Well, black cage, there was not a speck of golden down here.

La Muerte didn't know how much time passed, maybe hours, or minutes, but after a while she heard knocking on the door; she feared Xibalba had come to consummate their union, but the footsteps were light.

"Excuse me, My Lady?"

Quickly wiping her tears away, La Muerte turned around and saw a lizard like the one from the stable walking into her room. He was giving her a sympathetic look when he noted she had been weeping.

"What is it?" she asked gently. She may be unhappy here, but it didn't mean she had to take it out on these creatures that were not to blame for serving such a cruel god.

"Lord Xibalba expects you for dinner." She knew it. Now that she thought of it, she hadn't eaten anything since the wedding, and he knew it; he was taken advantage of it. She would not give him the pleasure.

"What is your name, amiguito?" La Muerte inquired.

"Emilio, My Lady." The lizard replied.

"Please, Emilio, tell your master I'm not hungry." She told the lizard kindly, though she didn't have the heart to offer him a smile.

"He said you'd probably said that." Emilio gulped. "And he asked me to tell you that if you were not in the Dining Hall in twenty minutes... Well, you'd have to, um… Have dinner with the servitude…" he cowered instinctively, just in case the Goddess threw something at him. "…undressed."

That made her temper flare out internally. Seriously?! Who did he think he was?! He may be her husband, but he didn't have the right to do this to her! She wanted to tear something apart, and judging by Emilio's reaction, he was used to being thrashed around. However, she was above discharging her anger on innocent spirits.

Sighing with resignation, La Muerte managed to smile at Emilio kindly as she reached down to pat his head in a friendly manner. "Tell your master I will join him shortly."

Emilio was surprised at the kindness and friendliness she treated him with, but nevertheless he nodded and walked out of her room. La Muerte huffed in dismay, blowing a few hairs away from her face, and then walked towards the wardrobe.

Now, to find something appropriate to wear.

Chapter Text

Twenty minutes later, Emilio was leading her down the hall. The dress of her choice was a two-piece dress made of baroque damask fabric, with fully lined bodice. It was of a silverish gray green color, with golden front and trimmed golden swirls and leaves on the golden fabric, with similar designs colored a dark shade of green on the green parts. She had managed to hide the puff of her eyes from having cried for so long with makeup, but she wasn't sure if Xibalba would notice anyway. Her dark hair was combed, and tied with a black ribbon, but other than that her lovely waves looked pretty on their own accord.

When they came to a great room with no doors, Emilio motioned for the Goddess to take a look. "This is the Dining Hall, My Lady."

La Muerte had to admit, the castle may be scary, but the Dining Hall could be called the warmest room it contained. It had a great chandelier with lit candles of normal fire, and a cackling fireplace at one side, with a row of windows with dark curtains at the other. In the middle of the room was a long table, with a chair at one end, another at the side next to it, and various types of food on top of it, whose smell let her know it was recently prepared, but she was astounded by the quantity. Xibalba didn't expect her to eat all of this, did he?!

"I will be taking my leave, My Lady." Emilio bowed his head lightly. "My Lord will be joining you shortly."

What wonderful manners, he made her come down and he wasn't ready. Still, La Muerte glanced down at Emilio with a smile. "Gracias, Emilio."

Once again surprised by her kindness, the lizard made his way out of the Dining Hall. When she was alone, La Muerte couldn't resist the delicious aroma of the food and approached the table to see what foods were served. The first thing she noted was that the food was not Mexican, rather, it seemed the majority of it was of European origin. The menu included an array of roasted meat and fish dishes such as venison, wild boar, salmon and pike, candied fruit and cheeses, savory and sweet tarts and pastries like pies and cakes, and much to her surprise there were even exotic birds like swans and peacocks, roasted over a fire and adorned with the feathers, potage and much more meals that she didn't recognize.

"So you came."

La Muerte jumped at the familiar voice, and huffed in annoyance. "Don't you know it's rude to startle people from behind?"

Xibalba chuckled as he revealed himself, walking into the Dining Hall with one hand behind his back, the other clutching his trusty dual-headed snake staff. "Where's your sense of humor, my dear?"

"I didn't imagine you had, My Lord."

He chose to ignore that remark and instead approached her to take a look at her. "You look radiant tonight, La Muerte." He took her hand and planted a kiss on the back of it.

"Thank you, My Lord." She replied curtly, sliding her hand off his hold.

"There's no need for formalities, dear La Muerte. We are husband and wife now, you may call me Xibalba." He motioned for the chair. "Shall we take a seat?"

La Muerte didn't protest any further as she headed towards the chair. Xibalba pulled back the chair for her to sit, before taking a seat himself, placing his staff aside temporally. Once seated, they served themselves, but since La Muerte didn't really know much about these foreign foods, Xibalba had to explain to her what they were and served her what she asked for. She was content with a few vegetables, some steamed salmon and a slice of cheese with a berry tart. Xibalba, on the other hand, had a big appetite; he served himself pieces of venison and boar, slices of cheese, a small chocolate cake, and even a leg of swan.

All the while, while eating, Xibalba couldn't remove his gaze off his lovely wife; she was pretty, with a beautiful body and stunning curves. His pupils were set on his meal, but the 'eyes' on the skull pupils were looking right at her, watching as her soft hands delicately grabbed the fork and knife and took small pieces of food into her mouth, while gently wiping her ruby red lips with the napkin every now and then. Oh, how he wanted to taste her! To touch her! As she reached out her hand for a piece of bread, he pretended he didn't notice she was taking her hand to the basket and reached out his own to take a piece of bread, 'accidentally' touching her tiny hand with his own gloved, large one. It was very soft, and warm. La Muerte instinctively withdrew her hand, and her cheeks turned red in embarrassment.

"I'm sorry, My-" she quickly corrected herself. "…Xibalba."

"Don't worry, my dear, you can take as much bread as you'd like." The dark god said gently, before glancing at her plate. "I see you don't have much appetite."

"I'm not used to eating as much as you. Do you actually eat all of this?"

"As much as I'd like to, even I have my limits on how much I consume."

"Then what do you do with all this food?"

"Well, my servants need to eat too, don't they?"

La Muerte suddenly yelped in surprise and dropped her fork on the plate when she felt something brushing at her skirt. Pulling back on her chair, she caught a glimpse of fur and bones underneath the table.

"Oops. I almost forgot." Xibalba took a sip from his wine before glancing beneath the table. "Get out of there, you two!"

Two four-legged figures emerged from under the table and snuck to the sides, glancing at their master with raised ears. La Muerte examined them; two skeletal wolves, with black bones and spiky fur, and green body, as well as two sharp and furry tails. They reminded her of the dogs in the Land of the Remembered, but much more darker and scarier. Xibalba looked back at her. "La Muerte, these are Garra and Colmillo, my prized hounds. Don't worry if you feel something brushing at your feet beneath the table, they tend to rest down there." He threw a peacock leg at Garra and a venison thigh at Colmillo, which the wolves devoured avidly.

"You could have told me before, you know!" La Muerte snapped gently, going back to her chair.

"I could have." Xibalba replied, taking a slice of gamonedo cheese into his mouth and licking his lips to relish the taste. "But you look cute when you're scared."

Oh, how she wanted to drive her fork into his face to erase that smug grin on it! But she simply tightened her grip on the utensil and continued with her meal, trying to look calm but failing to do so.

"My apologies if my castle doesn't look… welcoming. I haven't had any guests these past centuries."

"I can tell." La Muerte thought to herself, before speaking. "It's comfortable enough." She took a sip of wine, though this brand was a bit sourer than the one she was used to, and she gagged internally.

"I hope you will find your new quarters comfortable enough, my dear. You are free to explore the castle, but there's a door in the western hall that is strictly off limits."

"What's in the-?"

"It's forbidden!"

La Muerte jumped when Xibalba's tone became dark and angry, and he stabbed his chocolate cake with the fork, his teeth turning to fangs. Guessing it was a touchy subject, she decided not to question him further lest she wanted to meet his darker side sooner. Xibalba realized he had lost control, and withdrew the fork from the cake.

"My apologies, my dear."

"Don't worry. It's your castle, after all; you have all the rights to keep certain rooms from foreigners."

"Do not call yourself a foreigner, La Muerte. You are my wife, this castle is as yours as it is mine."

She shifted awkwardly in her seat, placing her napkin on the table. "I've lost my appetite, My Lord." As she rose up from the chair, she noted Xibalba was about to stand up as well to help her up. "No, please, I can get to my room by myself, thank you very much." There was a bit of dryness in her voice. "Buenas noches."

Xibalba watched her leave the dining hall with an air of elegance and dignity he'd never see in a woman before. The dress she was wearing was a bit baggy and it didn't let him glance at her curves, but she still looked attractive. Just a few more days of sweet-talking and flirting to lower her guard, and then he'd make her his. He'd taste her, strip her virginity from her, and when he got bored of her, maybe he'd keep her around for his needs. After all, a woman couldn't be such a troublemaker.

La Muerte, meanwhile, crossed the doors into her room, into her 'sanctuary' on this prison. She locked her door to make sure she wouldn't have any inopportune visitors to remove her dress, and slip into her pink nightgown. She had to admit, while Xibalba might be a barbarian in the battlefield (in general, actually), he was quite the gentleman when he wanted to. But she knew better than to lower her guard; she was smart, which was a trait that she got from her dearly departed mother. She wouldn't let him touch her, even if it was the last thing she did. La Muerte climbed unto bed-which was surprisingly soft and comfortable, and lay down, her head resting on the pillows stuffed with swan feathers and pulling the dark covers over her body to protect herself from the cold.

It took her a few minutes to fall asleep.

The next morning-she assumed it was morning, because there was no way to tell the time of the day down here-, she awoke and found herself still in this place, though she had hoped everything had been a nightmare. Sighing, La Muerte stood from bed and found a small bowl of water with some purple hand towels next to them; La Muerte wondered how the lizards had come to leave it if she had locked her door, but she guessed they knew how to open these doors. The Goddess dipped her hands into the cool water and formed a 'scoop' with her hands to wash her face, and then gently wiped the dripping water with the towels, before heading towards her bathroom. To her surprise, her bathtub was already filled with warm water and bubbles. She was actually impressed that Xibalba's servants were able to get into her room and get these things ready before she woke up, but she had to admit it was sweet on their part. Sliding her sleeping gown and underwear off her body, she stepped into the bathtub and wiped her body with a sponge, feeling refreshed at the water.

But why did she always feel watched?

As soon as he opened his eyes that morning, Xibalba wanted to take a peek at his wife to see if she was 'doing all right'. Unbeknown to La Muerte, his castle had many secret passages that often led from one room to another, the one that led to the passage behind her mirror in her bathroom was casually behind one of his bookshelves in his chambers. He walked down the dark passage, the candles in his armor and crown illuminating the way, until he was in front of the small window to the bathroom that was her mirror. From this side he could see what was going on in the bathroom, but from the other side it was nothing more than a normal mirror.

As soon as his skull pupils set on La Muerte, he couldn't help but gape in delight.

She was truly the definition of beauty now that she was undressed; how her body was gracefully curved, how her long flowing dark hair glistened from the water and the bubbles caught in it like fishes in a net. What he wouldn't give to consummate his union with this exquisite creature, but he had given his word to her father. He was cruel, a cheater, a murderer some say, but he was a man of his word, as much as sometimes he disliked it.

La Muerte couldn't stand the sensation of being watched anymore and she finally climbed out of the bathtub and grabbed a towel to wrap around her body while she found something to wear. Half an hour later, she was dressed in her usual red dress and sombrero. She wasn't sure what to do now, the Land of the Forgotten was not like the Land of the Remembered, there were no fiestas nor music nor any form of entertainment that she could think of. Sure, Xibalba gave her permission to explore around his castle (except for the famous room in the western hall which he forbad her to go to), but she was not in the mood to leave her chambers at all. Next to her window, there was a small tea table with chairs on the side; having nothing else to do, she made her way to the chair and took seat to glance outside from her window. The landscape remained unchanged, all gray-scaled and depressing, contrasting the vivid and contrasting colors in the Land of the Remembered.

She wondered how her father and sister were doing. And her subjects, overall a certain family of bullfighters. Did they miss her? That was certain, they loved her as much as she loved them, but she had no way of knowing how they were, and she dare not ask Xibalba to take her to see them. Speaking of Xibalba, she wondered what he did everyday when he was not making deals and wagers with other Gods or mortals. Well, she might as well find out later, when she gathered the courage to step out of her room into the dark halls.

It wasn't long before her stomach growled in protest, and she was quite surprised that Emilio hadn't come to tell her that Xibalba was waiting for her to go have breakfast, but she guessed Xibalba was still asleep, and maybe it wouldn't hurt to go and look for something light to eat in the kitchen (if she found it). La Muerte stood from her chair and headed towards her door, but as soon as she turned the knob, the door burst open and two lizards fell to the floor (one was Emilio, the other was similar but with different patterns on his face) with a yelp of surprise and a cry of pain.

"Ayayay…" Emilio whined, before noticing his mistress was looking down at them with a surprised look on her face. "M-Milady! We're s-sorry if we awoke y-you…"

"What he means to say is that we stayed here since morning in case you needed anything, milady." The other lizard explained, less nervous and more fluidly.

La Muerte smiled down at them. "Why, thank you very much. I believe we've not met before."

"My name is Roberto, señora mía." The lizard named Roberto bowed politely with a friendly smile. "I must say, you look quite beautiful this morning-" Emilio quickly pulled his fin closer.

"Be careful with your words!" he muttered in a low, nervous and reproaching voice. "If Lord Xibalba saw you, he'd kill you for flirting with his wife!"

"Flirting? Are you serious? I'm just trying to be friendly!" Roberto snapped back in low voice.

La Muerte couldn't help but giggle at their argument. "Don't worry, Emilio, he as well as you may refer to me as an equal. I don't really mind."

Roberto released his fin from Emilio's grasp and smiled up at the Goddess. "Well, milady, is there anything you need?"

"I'm a bit hungry…"

"Perfect! Accompany us to the kitchen and we shall make you something tasty to eat! This way, milady!"

Before Emilio could protest, Roberto was leading La Muerte down the hall and through the castle, so he had no choice but to go after them. However, to reach the kitchen they had to go through the western hall, and pass by the room Xibalba had forbidden her to visit. It was like any of the other doors, but with claw marks on the wood; a small seed of curiosity was planted at the back of her mind, even after they had left the door behind.

"Excuse me, may I ask you something?" La Muerte inquired.

"What is it, milady?" Emilio replied gently.

"What is inside that room in the western hall? Xibalba got in the defensive when I asked him about it." She failed to see the looks of dismay in both lizards' faces.

"Uh, w-well…"

"Lord Xibalba forbad us to talk about it a long time ago. He doesn't like to talk about it either." Emilio barely managed to speak without stuttering

"Now that you mention it, where is he? I have not seen him."

"He usually spends the morning doing paperwork, but he will check on you later." Roberto explained. "So, milady, sorry if I sound intrusive, but did you enjoy dinner last night-? OW!" he yelped when Emilio smacked his head.

La Muerte giggled. "Don't worry about it, Roberto. Dinner was delicious, and I must admit, Xibalba behaved like a gentleman, for a while, at least."

"Lord Xibalba gives that impression to everyone, but once you get to know him you realize he is not that bad." Emilio said gently, and La Muerte swore there was a twinge of fondness in his voice. "Well, here we are, milady."

The kitchen was similar to that of her father's castle, but without color, and with furniture made of obsidian. There were fruit crates and boxes filled with different types of ingredients, some from Mexico, others from European lands. A few lizards were there, all similar in appearance yet different in markings and types of fins, doing different chores. Some were washing plates from last night's dinner, others were accommodating the ingredients, but they noticed La Muerte coming in, and most of them gave her a polite bow.

"Have you taken Lord Xibalba his breakfast, Lorenzo?" Emilio asked the nearest lizard.

"Eyuup." Lorenzo, a lizard much more bulkier than the rest, nodded.

"He eats while working?" La Muerte inquired curiously.

"He does, usually, before you arrived he had no one to eat with." Emilio explained. "Well, milady, what would you like? We'll do it."

"Um…" She thought for a moment. "I think I'll be fine with a small fruit salad."

"You heard it, people!" Roberto called out for the other lizards.

In a matter of seconds, various types of fruits flew through the air and one of the lizards sliced them into delicate pieces, while a third one caught them in a plate in perfect succession, delicately accommodated. La Muerte couldn't help but clap her hands in amazement and awe. "That was amazing!"

"Thank you, milady." The lizards chimed simultaneously. The lizard with the plate approached La Muerte and handed it over to her gently. She took a slice of mango into her mouth, and it was surprisingly sweet and juicy. "This is tasty."

"It must be a surprise, considering that there's not much to grow here." Yet another lizard named Luis stated. "Well, actually, nothing grows here other than spikes."

"And where do you get all these things?"

"Lord Xibalba trades obsidian with many realms, and they send over fruit and exotic food." Emilio explained.

A few minutes later, when she was done with her fruit salad, she thanked the lizards and went back to exploring the castle, guided by Roberto and Emilio in a sort of tour. They showed her through the armory, the courtyard, the throne room, the main hall, there was even a ballroom (but it was dark, grim and it was clear it had not been used for millennia). But when they reached the library, La Muerte was amazed. It was a grandiose room, with various rows of bookshelves that housed books of different genres and sizes. There was a wide window that let light into the library, along with the candles of green fire. There was an oaken desk with a chair on the middle of the room, surrounded by rows of withered and thorny plants, though they left space for anyone to go towards the desk.

"I never thought Lord Xibalba had so many books." She awed.

"It might not look like it but he is an avid reader." Emilio stated. "He has read every single book in here."

"Not romantic novels, he hates them." Roberto muttered. "Those types are only here because of-" before he could continue, Emilio smacked his nose with his tail. "OW!"

"Would you mind if I stayed here for while?" La Muerte inquired, running her fingers along a nearby bookshelf.

"As you wish, milady." Emilio smiled, before Roberto pushed him aside.

"If you need us, just call for us and we'll come in the blink of an eye." He snickered.

La Muerte smiled kindly at the two lizards. "Muchas gracias."

The two lizards felt warm feelings at her kindness as they went through the doorway and close the doors behind them. La Muerte was left alone in the great library, looking for any interesting books to read. There were many books, tomes, scrolls, but none of them interested her; they were mostly books of dark magic, and dark genres, such as terror, monsters and ghost stories, some bloodier than others. Seriously, Xibalba had serious problems with violence. As she was about to go look in another bookshelf, she found an odd in those bunch of dark stories.

Romeo and Juliet

Her interest caught, she picked the book from the shelf and headed towards the table to take a seat. She remembered her mother reading this story once to her and Aimé when they were little, but she would change the tragic ending to a happier one. Taking a seat, she started to read.

After he was done with his paperwork, Xibalba inquired his servants about his wife's whereabouts, and Emilio told him she was in the library, reading. This made him annoyed to some extent, he had expected her to come look for him and ask him if he needed anything, but it seemed she didn't yet know her place. As he made his way towards the library, he wondered what kind of book she'd read, judging by her personality she would not like the book genres he enjoyed. He turned the knob quietly and opened one door, careful not to make any noise. He wanted to surprise her.

There she was, reading a book, her back towards the door. Xibalba glided silently towards her, when he was at a considerable distance from her, he managed to catch a glimpse of the book. But he didn't say anything until he was a few inches behind her ear. "Romeo and Juliet? Are you serious?" He contained the urge to burst out laughing when she jumped in fright from the chair and took a hand to her chest, twirling around to face him with a terrified look.

La Muerte's fright immediately turned to anger. "What was that for?!"

"I wanted to give you a surprise, my dear La Muerte." Xibalba snickered with that taunting grin of his, his teeth turning sharp mischievously.

"Well, don't do it again! You're going to give me a heart attack!" she snapped back, crossing her arms, and recalled what he had said in the first place. "What do you have against this book?"

"It's sickening, all those unnecessary shows of sickening affection." Xibalba hissed in disgust, rolling his eyes. "And throwing their lives away just because one thought the other was dead. Ridiculous!"

"They were in love." La Muerte stated matter-of-factly, taking her hands to her hips. "When people love they'd do anything for their loved ones."

"Please, no one in their sane judgment throws their life away for another, they could simply find another person to be with, and problem solved! Clean slate!"

"Love is not like that, Xibalba. You can't just replace someone you loved like you would replace a broken vase."

With an irritated grunt, Xibalba turned his head away in annoyance. "Love causes nothing but pain and suffering. It's better never to love and save yourself the pain."

"You're wrong. Love brings joy and happiness to people, it binds them together-"

"And tears them apart a few years, maybe even months, later. Besides, it makes you weak, makes it easier for others to take advantage of you."

"So you don't believe in love at all?"

"No, and I'll never believe in it."

La Muerte shook her head in disappointment, and was making her way out of the library when Xibalba grabbed her by the arm. "Where are you going?" he asked her hardly. Obviously the whole talk about love put him on a sour mood, but she didn't let it intimidate her.

"Somewhere else to read, My Lord." She hissed the last two words as she released her arm from his grip and stormed out of the library, not bothering to look back at her husband, feeling his glare drilling unto her.

She didn't see his frown softening, and giving place to an almost melancholic look.

Chapter Text

Over the course of the next few days, their relationship was still in between 'stranger' and 'acquaintance', mostly because of their opposite opinions on many things. La Muerte thought Xibalba to be bitter, selfish, short-tempered and a definitive machista, while Xibalba soon concluded La Muerte was like all others, superficial, hypocrite and rebel, refusing to settle down and to let him touch her. He had met many women in his long life, but never one like her. His patience was wearing thin, but it seemed like she didn't care. They avoided interaction most of the time.

La Muerte spent most of the time confined willingly in her chambers, now her meals were taken to her room and if she got bored she asked Emilio, Roberto or any of the other lizards to bring her a book, sometimes they'd even stay to chat with her. They spoke to her about the Land of the Forgotten and the inhabitants, though she had seen none ever since she arrived. Emilio told her various groups had arrived, but Xibalba told them not to bother her with that, that he was the ruler of the realm, not her. This only strengthened La Muerte's opinion of his machismo

. This day, she woke up when she heard a sound she never thought she'd hear down hear. Music. A pipe organ, to be more precise. Curious, she donned a red bathrobe and tip-toed out of her room and followed the music to its source; the music was dark, haunting and very complicated, she could tell that it could only be played by a maestro. La Muerte walked down halls and upstairs looking for the room the playing came from, until she came to a half-open black door; she wasn't sure if she should go in or just take a peek inside, but after a few seconds opted for the latter. La Muerte poked her head through the doorway to see who was playing, and the sight surprised her.

It was a spacious room lit with candles of green fire, and great windows with dark curtains, as well as a black velvet carpet leading to the organ the music came from. The pipes had the shape of snakes with open mouths and exposed fangs, keys of obsidian glass and lilt candles on top of it. Everytime a key was pressed, the corresponding pipe released the tune through the serpent's mouth. Sitting upon the obsidian bench in front of it, was none other than Xibalba himself, his back straight and his scarred wings half-spread. His fingers swiftly flew over the keys and hit each note perfectly even with his eyes closed; he was so concentrated and the volume of the music was so loud that he did not notice his wife.

The music was dark, powerful and intimidating. La Muerte bit her lip as she watched him. The way he played… as if he was tortured by something. She had never seen anyone play with such passion, or such fury. She should be afraid, yet she wasn't… she was intrigued. The haunting music sounded familiar in some way to her, like she had heard it before in a dream. La Muerte closed her eyes and stood outside the door, listening to the music intently, completely content to hear a bit of music after so many days of being trapped down here. She missed the music of the Land of the Remembered, those happy and festive songs that made everyone happy, contrasting this melody that made her feel depressed.

After a while, La Muerte decided to go explore the castle a bit, though even as she walked away from the door and made her way through the corridors and halls, the music could still be heard from anywhere within. She wondered if it could be heard from the outside; that, and she had a curiosity about Xibalba's horse. He was unlike any horse she had seen in the thirteen kingdoms. La Muerte managed to find her way to the castle gates, and with some difficulty she managed to open one, but Xibalba had pushed them open without a drop of sweat when they first arrived. Was he that strong?

Once outside, she stepped down the stone steps and towards the stable. Brrr! It was cold out here, making her recall she was not yet dressed, thus she wore no shoes either, making her feel even more cold than before. La Muerte snapped her fingers and a pair of slippers appeared under her feet to protect them from the snow and ice. As she walked into the stable, she took a look at it. It was like the stables of her father's castle, but darker, and with only one stall, since there was only one horse down here.

The stall had an European flair, and it was made of heavy duty steel with oak wood. The front had a feed door to feed the stallion, and a v insert in the top grill of the door so he could peek his head out. There was a blacksmithing fire at one side, probably where the horseshoes were made.

The horse, whose name she recalled was Medianoche, was eating from a good pile of straw when he heard her coming in. Lifting his head, he saw La Muerte entering and approaching the door of his stall, spiking his curiosity. La Muerte took a look around and spotted the same lizard from before taking a nap on top of a pile of straw; she silently walked past him in and towards the stall. Medianoche approached the door of his stall and stared at the Goddess with an air of curiosity natural to his species.

"Hello there." La Muerte spoke to him gently. "You're a pretty horse, you know that?"

Medianoche snorted and sniffed her hand when she tried to pet him; she had never ridden a horse before because it wasn't 'ladylike', but she did like interacting with them. Once she was certain this horse hadn't an aggressive temper, she tentatively rubbed his neck with her hand. Medianoche snorted in delight and reached out to one of her locks of hair, making her giggle.

"I see you've made an acquaintance with my horse."

La Muerte didn't bother to jump this time; she had already gotten used to him sneaking up behind her, anyway. Xibalba was a bit disappointed by this, but he nevertheless approached his wife. Immediately, Medianoche's attention shifted to his owner and he let out soft neighs as he stomped his hoof. Chuckling, Xibalba patted his horse's neck and stroked his head. "Quieto, chico. Quieto."

La Muerte could note he was very attached to the horse, and vice versa. "I never thought you were the animal type."

"That's the impression everyone gets." Xibalba replied gently, patting Medianoche's head gently. There was a twinge of bitterness in his voice.

"You seem to be close to him."

"We've been together for a long time."

"I can see that."

"What?" Xibalba glanced back at her. "I might be cruel, but I don't have to be so with everyone. They're all the family I have…" he stopped abruptly.

"They are? I thought the Candlemaker said you had-"

"It's none of your business."

La Muerte rolled her eyes. Back to his normal self. She was about to go back inside when the dark god grabbed her arm. "You know, it's becoming a custom for you to grab my arm like that." She said sarcastically, releasing it from his grasp.

"There's something I've been wanting to talk with you." Xibalba told her dryly. "But unfortunately, I haven't had the chance."

"What do you want, Xibalba?" she crossed her arms at him and gave him a crossed look.

"As you know, we have not yet consummated our union-"

"Oh, no!" she snapped without even letting him finish. "I don't want to hear it!" She tried to leave but Xibalba grabbed her by the arm once again.

"You are my wife. You will do as I say." He growled, his teeth growing sharp.

"You're completely insane if you think I'm sleeping with you!" La Muerte growled back, her temper flaring. "Remember you gave your word to my father! Or what, weren't you supposed to be a man of your word?"

"I usually am, but in this matter it doesn't concern him whatever we do."

"I will not-!"

The goddess was caught by surprise when her husband pinned her against the wall by the arms, his wings stretching out menacingly, his teeth turned to fangs but instead of a scowl he gave her a lustful grin. "You're so hot when you're angry."

"Get off me!" La Muerte tried to release herself from his grasp, but he was stronger than her.

"Do I have to remind you?" he whispered into her ear seductively. "You are mine."

"I belong to no one."

Xibalba leaned his head closer to her and sniffed her hair, intoxicating himself with her sweet aroma of marigolds; he was tempted to kiss her, but now was not the moment. No, he had a better idea than that. One little bird told him that she was very fond of wagers; well, now was the moment to find out. "How about a little wager?"

La Muerte cursed him for figuring out her weakness. "A wager?"

With an amused grin, Xibalba released her arms and stepped back folding his wings back. "I propose a little horse race, you and me, one lap around the lava lake surrounding my castle."

"Horse race? You only have one horse."

"I'll take care of that. Do you accept?"

La Muerte narrowed her eyes suspiciously at him. "But what are the stakes?"

"Las damas primero." Xibalba gave her a small bow, making her wonder if what he meant wasn't the contrary.

"If I win…" it took her a few minutes to think on what to ask. "If I win you'll allow me to visit my family."

Xibalba's smile seemed to twitch at that request, but he managed to keep on the mask as he stroked his beard, pretending to think on what to bet. "And if I win, you will sleep with me one night."

La Muerte froze when those words left his tarry lips. She trembled at the thought of sleeping in the same bed with him, his claws touching her delicate body, his tongue tasting her skin. This, plus the fact she had never ridden a horse, made her hesitant to accept his proposal. But this could be a chance to see her family, at least once. Xibalba stretched out his hand to shake hers. "Do we have a deal, my dear?"

Sighing, La Muerte grabbed her husband's larger hand and shook it. "We have a deal."

"Very well, now you only need to get changed. " Xibalba took a look at her with lustful eyes. "Though frankly I wouldn't mind if you chose to race in that attire."

Huffing her annoyance, she didn't even bother to tell him she was going to get changed as she walked back into the castle and made her way towards her room. It took her half an hour to change into a knee-length light blue dress fading into lilac at the front of the bodice, and black boots, then tied her long dark hair into a ponytail. As returned outside to the stables, she was surprised to find not one, but two horses inside. Medianoche, and a milky white horse without a single speck of any other color in its shimmering coat that contrasted with the dark surroundings, with a red bridle. The newcomer's dark eyes set on her curiously. Xibalba had his back leaning against the wall with crossed arms, waiting for her. Meanwhile, the lizard that worked there was putting the bridle on the dark god's horse.

"Where did you get this horse on such a short time?" La Muerte couldn't help but ask as she approached and petted the horse's head.

"Lady Epona owed me a favor." Xibalba replied with a smirk.

"Epona? The Mistress of Horses?"

"What? You know another Goddess named Epona? And yes, she gave me one of her finest horses." He glanced at La Muerte. "Consider it as my wedding gift."

"Well…" the sugar lady couldn't help but feel flattered at this. "Thank you…"

"Good. Now let's get started."

"But it doesn't have a saddle-"

"I never said we'd race with a saddle, did I?"

La Muerte froze with dread, especially when she saw Xibalba climb unto his saddleless horse with no problem at all, but she had never ridden, let alone without saddle. Xibalba stared at her amusingly as she tried to figure out how to climb into the horse's back.

"Well? You can't climb unto a simple horse?" the dark god sneered, taking his steed's reins and leading Medianoche closer to La Muerte.

"I'm fine, I just…" she tried to climb unto her horse like he had, but she slipped and fell back to the ground with a loud thud. Xibalba laughed teasingly.

"Need some help?"

"No! I can do it!"

When she fell to the ground for the third time, Xibalba rolled his eyes and turned to the lizard. "Juarez."

He left what he was doing and looked up at his master. "Yes, My Lord?"

"Help my wife get on her horse, if you'd please."

"Yes, My Lord." Juarez approached La Muerte and kneeled down, putting his hands so that she could place her feet on it. "Let me help you, milady."

La Muerte looked down at him in surprise, wondering if he'd be able to support her weight, but it seemed he didn't mind about it at all. Reluctantly, she lifted a feet to his hands, and then she quickly impulse herself up towards the horse's back, hearing a yelp of effort from Juarez as she did so. Finally, this time she did manage to climb unto the horse's back, and quickly accommodated herself nervously, her legs feeling a bit itchy from the horse's coat. What if she slipped off?

"About time." Xibalba sighed. "Follow me to the finish line."

He gently kicked his horse's sides, and Medianoche advanced towards the bridge.

La Muerte panicked and impulsively kicked her horse's side, but she did it a little too harshly and it jumped and neighed in surprise as it trotted towards the bridge. La Muerte clung to its neck with a yelp of surprise and tightened her leg's grip on the horse's torso. Once both horses were a few steps away from the bride, the riders pulled the reins to make them stop temporally. Juarez ran to stand between both horses, but a few steps ahead of them. Xibalba glanced at La Muerte with a smirk. "Good luck, my dear. You're going to need it."

She didn't reply. Juarez took the handkerchief around his neck and held it up in the form of a banner; not that he liked it, however.

"Ready… S-Set…" the lizard closed his eyes shut in dismay as he let the handkerchief fall to the ground and cowered himself. "GO!"

La Muerte couldn't do anything as suddenly Xibalba smacked his horse's rear with his large hand, and the horse instantly galloped across the bridge at the speed of a bullet; she kicked her horse's sides, but for the length of the bridge she opted to in a trot, considering it had many tight turns, though it apparently didn't bother her husband; in fact, he had no trouble at the tight turns at all, his hand with the reins was very firm and he was confident in his skill; he braked short at the turns before turning his steed left or right and galloping across the bridge once again.

Panicking when she realized Xibalba was getting ahead of her, La Muerte tried to make her horse go faster, but she was too inexperienced to do such drastic turns, and so she trotted through the rest of the bridge; once they were on mainland, the true competition started. Xibalba led his horse at full speed through the spikes and stalactites that made the landscape of his realm, while La Muerte did her best to keep up with him without falling off the horse; she was literally letting the horse follow Medianoche, while she was more focused on clinging to its neck and tightening her legs.

Xibalba would look back every now and then to see how she was doing, and he laughed internally when he saw how she was clinging to her horse, it was obvious she had never ridden a horse. This would be easier than he thought. La Muerte tried her best to keep following her husband, but soon her horse's hooves were hurt by the rocky landscape and it wasn't used to it, so soon it had to lower the speed. It was soon before she lost sight of Medianoche, and it made her panic. Sure, the race was around the castle, but she didn't recall the path she'd taken to go back; it would be easier to try and go the way Xibalba had gone, seeing her family was worth it.

Reluctantly, La Muerte gently kicked her horse's sides and walked down the ashy path. She couldn't go any faster, she didn't want to hurt the poor horse any further, she loved animals that much; as she advanced through the terrain, she looked around hoping to see any of the inhabitants of this bleak wasteland-like realm, but she found nothing more than snow and spikes protruding from the ground, as well as ruins of old buildings. This place was so different from the Land of the Remembered that it made her cry.

Suddenly the horse stopped and brought its ears forward.

"What's wrong, chiquito?" La Muerte patted the horse's neck to calm it down, but she couldn't do anything as out of sudden the animal reared on both legs in fright, and she fell to the ground with a yelp of surprise. The Goddess knocked her head on a rock and lost consciousness.

Xibalba knew something was wrong when he looked back and realized La Muerte was nowhere to be seen; pulling the reins of his steed to brake short once more, he looked back at the path from where he had come and looked for a speck of white in the distance, but all he saw where stalactites. Alarmed, the dark god turned his horse around and galloped back the way they came to look for La Muerte; after a while, he spotted her white horse standing on next to an unconscious figure on the ground… Wait, unconscious figure?!

"La Muerte!" Xibalba stopped his horse and quickly got off to kneel down next to his wife and shake her by the shoulder. "Are you okay?!" When she didn't respond, he took his fingers to her neck and breathed out in relief when he felt a pulse. She was just unconscious. Xibalba carefully picked her up bridal style, moving her head as less as possible. He had to take her back to the castle to check on her, but placing her back on her horse in this state was not a good idea. Carefully, he placed her unconscious body on top of Medianoche's back, before climbing on his horse himself and accommodating her in his arm so that her head was resting against his chest, but so that he could grab the reins with his other hand while keeping her in place. Xibalba then gently kicked Medianoche's sides to make him walk, leading him back towards the castle, La Muerte's horse trailing after them instinctively.

At the pace he had to go, it took about twenty minutes to return to the castle gates; naturally, Juarez ran towards them in alarm when he noticed La Muerte in his master's arms. "My Lord, what happened?!"

"She's fine, she's just unconscious." Xibalba replied curtly, carefully dismounting from his horse and then accommodating La Muerte in his embrace once more. He walked up the steps and into his castle while Juarez led the two horses back to the stables. The dark god walked down the halls and upstairs towards his chambers; they looked evry much like La Muerte's room, except it was more spacious and it had no mirrors. There were adorning carpets hanging from the walls, and a burning fireplace, as well as a tea table next to the crystal doors of a balcony. His bed was king-size due to his wings, the sheets were a sable black just like the rest of his castle, save for the candles illuminating his room.

Once he was next to his bed, Xibalba lifted a sheet with a hand, and then set his wife down, pulling up the blankets to cover her up to the collarbone. Her chest was rising and deflating from her breathing… even while unconscious, she was beautiful… Xibalba slid his left glove off his hand, revealing a large, black skeletal hand, and gingerly stroked his wife's cheek with his fingers; it was so soft, almost like cotton, and he was certain it tasted like sugar. Then he ran his hand through her wavy curls of black licorice hair, which felt like the best silk in the world. Finally, Xibalba took a sniff at La Muerte's neck, and memorized her scent of flowers and sugar; he died to taste her, but now was not the moment. She needed attention. Putting his glove back on, the dark god glided out of his chambers.

She was running through a beautiful forest, in the valley surrounding Aztlan. She laughed as she chased after the little rabbits, squirrels and songbirds through the forest, hopping over stones and through small creeks, her small feet carrying her through the natural sanctuary. The young girl dark-haired eventually came to a glade, where a few Does were grazing with their fawns; her dress with white bodice and red skirt was bright under the filtering sunlight through the leaves of the trees, while her hair tied into a ponytail with a hair bow glistened prettily. She approached one of the fawns, and it tilted its head curiously at her.

"Hi little guy." The little girl smiled. "I'm La Muerte."

She stretched out her hand for the fawn, and it smelled it curiously, its ears raised forward. La Muerte giggled and petted its head playfully, but as she was about to go and play with the other fawns, she heard a sound. Sobbing. La Muerte looked around the glade, and heard the sobbing coming from one of the trees; wait, one of the trees? Trees didn't cry. The young girl approached the tree and circled around it to see if someone was crying, and then she saw a hollow hole on the bark, big enough for a child to fit in.

In fact, she managed to see a green glow from within.

"Hola?"

The child inside the tree gasped in surprised and tried to retreat further into the tree with no success. La Muerte's golden eyes were gazing into glossy skull pupils in a pool of acid green. She could take a better look at the boy; at first glance she could tell he was a bit older than her, about two years. He looked like a black skeleton, with green ectoplasm making out his neck and torso, with his ribs sticking over it; his skeletal arms were hugging his legs, which were concealed with a robe-like cloak. He had green markings all over his face, as well as two white and small bushy eyebrows. But what intrigued her the most about this young god was the pair of dark, feathered wings that stuck out from his back and hugged his body. The boy was staring at her with terrified eyes.

"Hey, what are you doing here?" La Muerte inquired, tilting her head.

He didn't speak, he just stared at her dumbfounded.

"Are you hurt?"

Nothing.

"Are you mute or something?"

No reply. La Muerte thought for a moment, and sat down in front of the boy. "Are you lonely too?" She thought he wouldn't reply, but this time he nodded lightly, pulling his legs closer.

"Do you want to be my friend?" his eyes widened a bit, like he had not been expecting that question. Realizing he would not talk anytime soon, she extended out her hand with a friendly smile. "Don't be afraid. Let's be friends!"

The dark boy just stared at her hand for a few seconds, before tentatively reaching out his hand and shaking it…

La Muerte started stirring awake with a pounding headache; she couldn't recall what happened exactly, but she did realize as she shifted that she was on top of a comfortable surface. Cracking her eyes open, she found herself back in Xibalba's castle, in one of the rooms… but soon she noticed it was not her room. The door creaked open, and she saw Xibalba entering the room carrying a tray with a bowl of water and hand towels.

"How are you feeling?" he inquired, coming to her side and placing the tray on his bedside table.

"My head hurts…" La Muerte replied tiredly, but as she tried to sit up Xibalba gently pushed her down to bed.

"Don't move, you need to rest." He spoke softly to her.

"What happened?"

"You fell off the horse and knocked your head. You were unconscious when I found you."

La Muerte groaned in protest as she rubbed the sore spot in her head; Xibalba took a cloth and submerged it in the water bowl, then he squeezed it to drench the excessive water, though not too much. "Tell me where it hurts."

"Here…" the goddess pointed to her scalp, and winced when Xibalba pressed the cloth against the painful swelling. "Ow!"

"Stop complaining, it's not going to kill you." The dark god growled softly, taking his wife's hand and placing it on the cloth. "There, press it against your swelled part." He drenched another cloth in the cool water, and started wiping her forehead gingerly. La Muerte did as told, confused at his gentleness. None of the two said anything for a while, it was La Muerte who broke the silence.

"Thanks." She said.

"You don't have to, my dear. I just did what any husband would do for his wife." Xibalba replied gently, placing another wet cloth on her forehead. "How are you feeling?"

"A bit better now, but my head is still pounding."

The Lord of the Land of the Forgotten thought for a moment, before moving his sheet a bit. "Give me your feet."

La Muerte blinked. "What?"

"Just give me your feet, I'm not going to cut you a finger if that's what you're thinking."

Reluctantly, she brought her feet from underneath the blankets and allowed her husband to grab them. She winced a bit when Xibalba grabbed one of her feet and started massaging it, but after a while the pain turned into pleasure. She felt relieved when she felt his knuckles pressing against her soles, in other parts of her body she could feel the pressure too.

"Where did you learn to do that?" she couldn't help but ask.

"When you spend centuries fighting in a war you have to learn healing techniques unless you want to get yourself killed." Xibalba replied, gently pulling on her fingers and making them snap softly.

"Does this mean I lost our wager?"

"Technically, we both crossed the line at the same time, so it didn't quite count. Besides, I doubt you'll ever want to get on a horse after this, my dear."

"No, I do not blame the horse."

"We should leave it for some other time, for now just rest."

La Muerte just stared at him as he continued to massage her other foot, surprised by his gentleness. Maybe… he wasn't that bad, after all…

Chapter Text

Amy

How's everything going back home? How's father taking my departure? I miss you very much, every single minute I spend down here I think of you. There's so much I want to tell you, it pains me not being able to go and see you, but Xibalba seems to think I'll run way because he won't let me go anywhere outside his castle. He claims it's dangerous, but during the race I didn't see anything that could possibly endanger me. But he does allow me to write, for which I'm grateful, or I wouldn't know how you guys are doing.

I must confess to you, I'm quite surprised at how Xibalba's treating me. I thought he was going to be cruel and abusive, but he has been tender and a gentleman with me; I don't know if he's putting on an act so that I'll lower my guard, or if he's being sincere, but I'm must say I never thought he'd treat me like this. I can tell there's something more to him than the mask of cruelty and indifference he shows everyone, he has his tender spots with those who know him well. Even his servants seem to be fond of him; I bet you didn't expect that.

Tell father that I'm fine, thankfully Xibalba has not even raised his hand against me, though I just mentioned it. I'm starting to doubt about what everyone says of him, as unbelievable as it sounds. When I fell off my horse and hurt my head in the race, he took me back and took care of me genuinely, he didn't even force me to fulfill my end of the wager, he nulled it because we both crossed the finish line at the same time, he says, and we would save it for later.

Take care, Amy. Don't forget to tell father that I love him too.

Love, your big sister.

It took La Muerte a great deal of effort not to cry as she wrote this letter. Setting the quill back on the inkwell, she folded the paper and slid it into a red envelope to seal it with wax, before snapping her fingers and making it disappear in a speck of marigold petals. It would reach her sister's room in a few minutes, but she didn't know how much time it would take her to write back, so she opted to go and spend the time somewhere else. La Muerte walked out of her room and down the halls, already growing accustomed to the darkness as much as she disliked it. She tried to recall where each room was, unless she wanted to accidentally go into one she was not allowed into.

After a few minutes of wandering around, she came to two great doors she found familiar. Pushing one door open, she found herself back in the armory Emilio and Roberto had showed her the other day. There were various kinds of weapons, such as javelins, swords, lances and bows with arrows either hanging from the wall or in crystal showcases, classified by type and antiquity. La Muerte couldn't understand why he liked European weapons, but she guessed it was because of his years away on war. Inside the armory were two lizards, the bulky one named Lorenzo was polishing the blades of the swords, and another that looked very different from the rest was dusting the shelves.

This lizard was the one who noticed she had entered the room, and turned around to receive her with a warm smile. "Why, hello, My Lady." Soon La Muerte realized this lizard was female, both because of her feminine voice and her more curved body shape, as well as the fact that unlike any other creature down here her secondary color was pink, not green. "Is there something we can do for you?" her voice was warm, and she could say even motherly.

"I was just taking a look around. Emilio and Roberto showed me the armory the other day, but I couldn't take a closer look at the weapons." La Muerte replied kindly.

"Ah, yes, those two have been talking about you very much, they are very fond of you, milady."

Lorenzo nodded his head. "Eeeyup."

"I'm sorry, I have not introduced myself. My name is Regina, milady." The female lizard curtsied.

"A pleasure to meet you, Regina." La Muerte returned the curtsy politely before glancing around once more. "So, this is Xibalba's collection?"

"My Lord knows how to use all these types, but the sword is his favorite. In his youth he was a skilled swordsman." Regina glanced at one of the crystal showcases, where a single-handed sword with sawed blade with green symbols, dragon-shaped hilt and an eerie air to it lay resting. "That's was his sword. He fought with it on the wars, nowadays people know it as the Sword of Seven Sins."

La Muerte approached the showcase and took a closer look at the sword; was it her imagination, or the symbols were glowing? The hilt was bigger than her hand, she wasn't certain if she'd be able to even lift it from the ground. Besides, the blade looked very sharp, and she wasn't one to like weapons very much. She heard footsteps behind her, but she was certain it wasn't any of the lizards, these footsteps were much more heavier. She let out a sigh. "If you want to startle me, you'll have to do better than that."

Xibalba chuckled as he approached his wife from behind yet again. "What? Still sore about what happened last time?" he glanced at Regina and Lorenzo. "Leave us." Unlike with most of his servants, his voice was softer when he spoke at her.

"Yes, my Lord." Regina bowed her head at her master and she left the room, followed by Lorenzo.

Once they were alone, Xibalba tried to place his hands on La Muerte's shoulders, but she pulled away uncomfortably. Yup, still as superficial as always. "You seem to like my sword."

"It's…" the goddess tried to find a word to describe it without offending her husband. "Intriguing. Who forged it?"

The dark god was staring down at his sword with pride. "Myself."

La Muerte looked at him with surprised eyes. "You forged it yourself?"

"What better sword could a warrior have than one he forged himself? Besides, I'm very picky with weapons. But I doubt you'd understand."

"Excuse me?"

"Women know nothing about weapons."

Incensed, La Muerte took her hands to her hips and shot him an angry look. "What are you implying?"

"Nothing at all, my dear."

"You're calling me weak?"

"You may take it as you'd like, all I'm saying is that you know nothing about fighting."

"I'll let you know that I can be as good as anyone! Even you!"

Xibalba raised an eyebrow in amusement. "Is that a challenge?" he smirked confidently.

She retorted with a taunting grin. "Take it as you'd like."

Chuckling, Xibalba snapped his fingers and summoned two fencing sabres from thin air. "Very well, my dear." He held out one of the swords for her to take. La Muerte grabbed the hilt of the sword with a confident look, but on the inside she was freaking out about the problem she got herself into, especially when Xibalba twirled his sword around by the hilt with that insufferable smirk of his. "Just to warn you, I'm not going easy on you just because you're a woman."

La Muerte huffed her annoyance. "Don't underestimate me!"

They got in position for their little duel, luckily the armory was spacious enough for them to fight in there. La Muerte was nervous, she hoped all the fencing lessons she had been taking since she was four years old would come in handy, especially against him. Sure, he was much more experienced than her, but she had her wits. She'd erase that taunting grin on his face!

"You can surrender now, dear La Muerte, I'd like to spare you the embarrassment." He chuckled upon noticing she was fuming; he wanted to add a little more wood to the fire.

Just as he expected, it was the last straw. With a cry of anger La Muerte charged at him with the sword, but he blocked her attempt effortlessly. Again, La Muerte started attacking him, but he blocked her attacks without a drop of sweat, though he backed away in every hit to make her think she was gaining terrain, but after blocking another attack the sharp tip of his sword swiftly flew towards the skirt of La Muerte's dress and ripped a perfect line, exposing her leg. La Muerte looked down in shock, and found no harm to her leg.

"What's wrong?" Xibalba chuckled. "I thought you would make me sweat, but I see it's going to be easier than I thought."

La Muerte became angrier each second, and once more started stabbing him with her sword, but he blocked her attacks in the blink of an eye. However in one of her stockades she ripped a scratch in Xibalba's cloak; one part of her was glad she got to struck him, but her more rational side grew dreadful when he looked down at the scratch in his cloak, all humor gone from his face. Lifting up the slightly torn fabric, he glanced at La Muerte with a mocking grin. "Not bad, my dear."

Now it was La Muerte's turn to block out his attacks as he stockaded and his sword engaged with hers; she was never good at counter-attacking so all she could do was to defend herself while trying not to leave any open spots. Xibalba performed a moulinet and La Muerte barely had time to react, her sword clashing against his but being lifted upwards to block his attack, unintentionally bringing them closer to one another, their faces a few inches from touching.

Xibalba grinned. "Not bad at all." Before she knew what was going on, he stole a kiss from her and quickly pulled back before she went into a fit; just like he imagined, her lips tasted of cherry-flavored sugar candy.

La Muerte was furious that he dared to kiss her; she no longer minded what attacks she was using, she just wanted to struck him and make him bleed. However, he blocked her stockades and stabs, and even his sword flew towards the shoulder seam of her dress and ripped it; the goddess gasped in shock as suddenly the left side and sleeve of her bodice now hung, nearly exposing her breasts. With a furious yell, she ran forward with a stockade aiming for his sides, but Xibalba quickly stepped aside and drove her sword sideward, pulling her closer and kissing her yet again. La Muerte pulled away once more with her blood at the boiling point as she saw him laugh tauntingly at her.

By this time her eyes were stinging with hot tears of indignation and anger. However, she refused to give up. Once more, she attacked swinging her sword at him, but this time the dark god maneuvered his own with a great skill and sent her sword flying through the air, catching it by the hilt in thin air just as he lifted his wife's chin with the tip of his sword gently.

"Touché, my dear." He smirked, lowering his sword. "The first thing you have to know about fencing is that you must never attack out of anger."

La Muerte crossed her arms and looked away, refusing to look at him to prevent herself from lunging at him. She felt his shadow over her, and felt his fingers gingerly turning her head around so he could look at her eyes.

"But I must admit, you have fighting spirit." His voice was seductive and tender, she couldn't help but blush in embarrassment at the compliment despite her previous annoyance and irritation. "I like it."

"T-Thank you, Xibalba…" she replied gently.

With a small smirk, the dark god placed the sabers aside and held out his hand for her to take. "Shall we go outside?"

She took his hand, not as uncomfortable as before, and allowed him to guide her outside into the halls. "You are quite the swordsman. You deserve the reputation you have."

"That's nothing compared to my younger days, I was known as the 'Winged Black Swordsman'." Xibalba chuckled. "I killed in cold blood in a fraction of seconds, no one could defeat me in a fencing duel. Unfortunately, on one occasion I had…" he sighed. "a little accident that made me retire from war."

"Accident? What happened?"

Before he could answer, suddenly an excruciating pain overcame his entire body as his muscles contracted and he lost control, making him snarl and yell in pain. La Muerte gasped in shock when suddenly he collapsed to the floor, his wings flapping and contorting with bristled feathers, a expression of agony and pain in his features; he looked like he had been possessed by something. "Xibalba, what's wrong?!" she tried to touch him, but he didn't want to hurt her and with a great deal of effort managed to slap her hand away. His teeth turned to fangs as he let out a roar of pain.

"EMILIO!"

La Muerte thought she would have a heart attack at the scene; despite it, she kneeled down and held him down by the shoulders with all the strength she could muster to pin him down. Xibalba felt an even worse flare of pain when she pinned him down and the muscles of his shoulders and wings contracted but were not allowed to do so, but he contained the urge to scream with her on top of him. Soon, Lorenzo, Emilio, Roberto, Luis and Regina were running as fast as they could towards the two gods, alarmed when they realized what was going on.

"You know what to do!" Emilio cried out at the other lizards, worried for his master.

La Muerte didn't know what they were going to do but nevertheless she quickly released Xibalba's shoulders and got out of the way. She watched in fear and shock as Lorenzo and Roberto pinned the dark god to the ground by the shoulders and legs respectively (probably because Lorenzo was stronger than the others), and Emilio and Luis pinned his wings; Xibalba's body tried to release itself from their grasp, but their weight combined was too much even though they were much smaller than him. Regina pressed something between her king's sharp teeth, a tightly wound cloth; when the pain flared and his muscles contracted, Xibalba closed his eyes shut and bit into the cloth with all the unwilling strength he could muster, letting out muffled snarls and yells of pain.

Regina realized La Muerte was watching, and she quickly took her by the hand. "Follow me, milady! This is not something you'd like to see!"

La Muerte was reluctant to leave Xibalba, but the sight frightened her, and she followed Regina down the hall, trembling everytime she heard Xibalba's muffled screams of pain, her heart drumming inside her chest. The female lizard took the Goddess to the kitchen, where the screams were not heard. When she recovered form shock, La Muerte looked down at Regina with terrified eyes. "What just happened?"

Regina sighed sadly. "Lord Xibalba has a condition that makes his whole body contract and lose control, I believe the humans call them epileptic seizures."

"Dios mío…" La Muerte took her hands to her mouth. She had heard about that disease, but she never imagined he would have it. "That's horrible… Does anyone know about it?"

"No, I'm afraid My Lord doesn't want anyone to know of his condition. He thinks they will think him weak, no matter how many times I tell him that maybe some of them could be of help." Regina sighed and shook her head. "I swear, he's as stubborn as his mother…" suddenly she gasped when she realized she had said too much.

"How can I be of help?"

"Usually I make him some tea after he has a seizure to relax his muscles, but we've ran out of herbs, I don't have enough to make the tea I usually make him."

La Muerte thought for a moment. "Do you have rosemary?"

"Well, I think there's some left, we use it to spice the food."

"It's also a known relaxant for pain, perhaps we could make some tea with it. Could you get me a teapot?"

Regina nodded her head and quickly went to one of the shelves to take a medium-sized black teapot while La Muerte started a small fire on the stove; the female lizard then went to look for the rosemary herbs in the drawers. La Muerte filled the teacup with water and then waited until it started to boil; luckily she had the basic knowledge about making tea, she'd often make some for her father when she lived up there. She poured a bit of the boiling water into the matching black teacup. Regina was soon back with the rosemary herb. When the water was at a rolling boil, the goddess emptied the teapot into the sink and added the herb, before pouring more warm water over it.

As they waited for the tea to steep, La Muerte couldn't help but ask. "You mentioned Xibalba got his stubbornness from his mother…"

Regina sighed sadly. "He has many traits from her, but unfortunately her kindness is not one of them. Don't get me wrong, he treats us fairly, but if you don't know him well you may find him unpleasant. But he's a good person, in his own way." Regina crossed her arms in thought.

"You surely are very fond of him. You all are." La Muerte smiled slightly.

"We've been with him since his birth. He used to be such a sweet little boy, until…" she stopped herself form speaking any further.

"Until what?"

"I'm not the right person to speak about My Lord's past, but I'd like to ask something of you, milady." Regina looked up at the goddess.

"What is it?"

"Try not to mention his mother in front of him, it's… painful for him."

Judging by her words and the tone of her voice, she guessed something must have happened to him that involved his mother, but she decided not to question about it any further. After a while, the tea was fully steeped; La Muerte removed the tea leaves from the teacup, and poured the tea into the teacup. Taking it in her hands, followed Regina to the dark god's chambers.

Xibalba relaxed his entire body as he felt Lorenzo's claws massaging his sore muscles and bones, especially around the joint where his wings joined with his shoulder blade. Every single muscle hurt, it had been a long since he had a seizure this worse. Xibalba grit his teeth and stiffened, his claws digging into his mattress and sheets when Lorenzo massaged a knot with his knuckles.

"How are you feeling, My Lord?" Emilio inquired.

"How do you think, aren't you seeing me?" Xibalba growled under his breath, his feathers bristling.

"Try to relax, or it'll hurt more." Luis added, placing a pack of ice on his master's spine.

"Eeeyup." Lorenzo nodded his head as he continued to massage the knot.

The dark god muttered under his breath. "Easy for you to say, since you're not the one with the sore back…"

"You should be more careful, you know!" Roberto commented. "One of these days you're going to end up in one of those weird yoga poses, those from the India, just like Federico. It took us a complete month to reassemble him-"

"Please don't start with your damn stories!" Xibalba groaned, massaging his temples and closing his eyes shut. "Where's La Muerte, by the way?"

"Last thing I knew, Regina took her away from the… scene." Emilio replied gently.

Xibalba let out an exasperated sigh, before someone knocked the door. "Come in." the door opened and he panicked a bit when La Muerte entered accompanied by Regina. His upper torso was completely exposed. "L-La Muerte! What are you doing here?!"

If the circumstances were different, La Muerte would have giggled at the sight of the great and feared Xibalba blushing, but now was not the moment. "We brought you some tea."

Shifting his sore wings, Xibalba glanced back at his servants. "Leave us."

"Are you certain, My Lord?" Emilio inquired with a hint of worry. "What if-?"

"That was an order." The dark god growled with narrowed eyes, his teeth turning sharp.

Regina rolled her eyes. "We got the indirect, you know." As she pushed her fellow lizards through the doorway, Emilio glanced back at his master.

"If you need anything, we'll be around here!" he cried out, before Regina closed the door with her tail.

Xibalba muttered something under his breath as he lay his head down on his pillows once again. La Muerte approached the edge of his bed, and caught sight of something on his back… scars. On his tar tissue they looked an eerie reddish green, they were intertwined with each other, as if he had been injured one time after another. They look quite nasty, but it didn't gross her out at all. Xibalba's voice brought her out of her thoughts.

"I'm sorry you had to find out about my… problem like that, my dear." He spoke gently, his wings resting on top of the mattress.

"It's okay." La Muerte replied as she pulled a chair closer from his tea table and sat down, holding the cup of tea in her hands. "How are you feeling?"

"Horribly sore, that's how." Xibalba snapped, turning face up in bed, wincing a bit at the knotted muscles. "Give me that already, would you?"

La Muerte rolled her eyes at his attitude, though she was sure right now it was the pain that put him in this mood and not his naturally cranky personality. She handed over the cup to Xibalba, and watched him take a sip. "Hey, this is good." The dark god complimented, looking at her. "Did you make it?"

"Regina helped me. It's rosemary tea, that herb is known for soothing muscular pain."

Xibalba took a gulp of tea, before speaking. "Thanks."

La Muerte watched as he continued to drink the rest of the tea slowly, his wings shifting every now and then. She couldn't help but feel embarrassed at seeing him without his armor, his shoulders were broad and his chest and torso would look muscular if they were of flesh and bone. Still, the goddess had to admit, he was quite handsome… wait, what?! La Muerte quickly shook that thought off her head, and fidgeted with her hair. She looked down when Xibalba turned to look at her, the last thing she wanted was that he thought she liked what she was seeing; it wasn't soon before the dark god returned his attention to the tea.

"So…" La Muerte tried to think of a subject to talk about that wouldn't offend him. "Regina is the only female servant you have?"

Xibalba sighed and placed the empty cup on his bedside table. "Yes. I can't treat her the same way I tend to treat the others, in some way I grew attached to her."

"They're all very fond of you, I could tell it. Even with the way you treat them sometimes."

"I may be hard with them sometimes, but they're the closest thing to a family I have, like I told you before." His expression softened.

"And your family?" La Muerte quickly took her hands to her mouth in horror when she realized she had mentioned precisely what Regina asked her not to mention. Her dread augmented when Xibalba gave her a hard glare, but she swore she could see old pain and sadness reflected in them judging by how they were glistening, like she had opened an old wound.

After a while, Xibalba sighed. "I'd rather not talk about it, if you don't mind."

"I'm sorry."

"Don't worry about it for now." Suddenly his muscles ached once more, and his wings spread out instinctively while he let out growls of pain. "Damn it…!"

La Muerte approached his bed and sat down next to him. "Turn around."

He glanced at her. "What?"

"Lay face down, I think I can help you."

"How I know you're not going to break something?"

"You'd rather sleep with a sore back?"

Muttering under his breath, Xibalba shifted on his bed to lay face down, stretching out his wings. He stiffened when he felt her hands massaging his sore muscles, but after a while it turned into pleasure as his muscles relaxed when her knuckles massaged over his knots. Then she moved to his wing bone, and he couldn't contain the shiver of pleasure, his wings were always very sensitive. He had to admit, this woman not only a great fighting spirit, but also a heart of gold; he would not admit it, not even to himself, but he was starting to like her quite a bit. He was so relaxed, that it wasn't long before he fell asleep, his feathers still twitching in delight.

La Muerte kept massaging his back and tension knots until she was certain there were none left (and when she realized he had fallen asleep), then she silently stood up from the bed and walked out of his chambers, closing the door behind her. In a blur of marigold petals she returned to her room, and as soon as she materialized she found there was a blue envelope in her desk, with the seal of her little sister. Her eyes brightened as she sat down and opened the letter, already thinking on what she would write in her next letter.

Chapter Text

He ran away into the forest, into the tree he had come to call his haven. He hoped he wouldn't find him here, he wouldn't stand another abuse. His wings were wrapped around his body, his freshly scarred wounds hurting even though they had already been treated. Every sound in the forest made him jump, thinking they had come looking for him, but he relaxed when he realized it was just a forest critter. A few minutes later he started to sob quietly, burying his face into his knees as he hugged them; he just wanted to disappear, and stop suffering, get rid of the harsh words and cruel treatment that stung at his little heart.

'You're so pathetic even your brother abandoned you!'

'Stay away, you weirdo!'

'The only reason I chose you to be my successor is because you are a better choice than your brother was.'

'Get lost, Xibalba!'

"Hola?"

Xibalba nearly jumped when he heard an actual voice, and he thought he had been found. He tried to retreat further into the protective shadows of the tree, but there was no space. He found himself staring into yellow orbs as fiery as the sun yet as sweet as honey. She was a pretty girl of pale skin with golden markings, and dark waves of hair tied by a ribbon and cascading down her back. Her eyelids were a natural dark blue, with adorning orange markings. She was wearing a beautiful dress of white bodice and red skirt adorned with trimmed marigolds.

"Hey, what are you doing here?" the girl asked him, tilting her head.

Xibalba didn't reply, he was too nervous that she'd do anything.

"Are you hurt?"

He wanted to speak, but his throat was dry and no words would come out. He just stared at her curiously, no one had stayed with him this long.

"Are you mute or something?"

When he didn't say anything, she sat down in front of him.

"Are you lonely too?"

This time, Xibalba managed to give the girl a nod, and he pulled his legs closer in an attempt to hide from view. He couldn't help but blush when he felt the girl's eyes were set on him, he saw no fear in them. After a while, she spoke again.

"Do you want to be my friend?"

Xibalba's eyes widened. Was she serious? No one wanted to be his friend, they didn't even want to be near him. Everyone thought him frightening and grotesque, even his own father did. What if this was a trick to coax him out of his hiding place so the other children would come and tease him again? Still, he felt her tone was sincere. The girl smiled and held out her hand for him to take.

"Don't be afraid. Let's be friends!"

Xibalba stared at her hand for a few seconds, wondering if he should shake it or not. After a while, his face turned red as he reached out his hand and shook hers…

Xibalba woke up with a groan and stiff back, though he felt much better than yesterday. The dark god huffed in irritation and allowed his wings to stretch a bit, though not too much, the last thing he wanted was to suffer another seizure in such a short time. The massage La Muerte had given him had helped quite a lot, however, he slept like a baby (figuratively, of course) and with no knots. After shifting around in bed for a little more, he started to think about the dream he just had, not really understanding why dreamt of something that happened millennia ago. Speaking of which, he wondered what had happened to that young girl after all these years.

Sitting up in his bed carefully, Xibalba reached for his bedside table and opened the drawer, taking out a long red hair ribbon from the inside. He stared at it forlornly; it was the only memory he had of that sweet young girl who became his first friend. Whoever she was now, he wondered if she'd recognize him if she saw what he had become… Xibalba stroked the ribbon with great affection, before a knock on the door made him put it away quickly and closing the drawer. "Come in."

The door opened, and much to his surprise, La Muerte walked inside carrying a tray of freshly cooked food. "Good morning, Xibalba. How are you feeling?" she inquired softly, approaching his bed.

"Better now, thanks." Xibalba replied, rubbing his shoulder softly. "That tea you made worked really well, so I should really thank you."

"It's nothing, I'm glad it helped you." Her voice was unusually gentle, she usually spoke to him with irritation, annoyance and incense, but now she was being gentle to him. For some reason he found it attractive. "Here, I brought you breakfast."

Xibalba sat up in bed carefully so that La Muerte could place the tray on his lap; his breakfast consisted of scrambled eggs, bacon with some orange juice, as well as tea, boiled eggs, a few pastries and a slice of cheese. "Thank you."

"You're welcome." La Muerte sat down on the chair from last night, resting her back against it.

Xibalba didn't like the idea of eating in front of La Muerte like that, so he took one of the pastries and held it out to her. "Here."

"Thanks, b-but I'm not hungry…"

"I insist, my dear. I guess by your expression that you have not eaten yet, am I right?"

La Muerte blushed a bit as she accepted the pastry from her husband, and gave it a small bite. There was a swirl of sweet flavors in her mouth, and when she swallowed her mouthful of pastry it continued in her stomach. "This is good. What's it called?"

"Éclair." Xibalba replied gently, taking a piece of egg to his mouth, and then a sip of his orange juice. "It's a French pastry, and one of my personal favorites."

"I can see you like sweets very much."

"I admit, pastries are my soft spot. French pastries are the best, if I may have an opinion. Those people might be snobs, but they have certainly a thing for cakes."

"You sure know a lot about Europe." La Muerte commented.

"I spent centuries there during the wars, remember?" the dark god took a bite from his cheese and a piece of bacon. 

"Yeah, well… Yesterday you mentioned you had an accident that caused you the epilepsy."

Xibalba sighed as he set his fork and knife down. "Have you heard of jousting?"

"It used to be some sort of sport for entertainment, right? Two horsemen charging at each other for with a long lance with a blunted tip."

"It was one of my favorite sports. Sometimes I would take human form to participate in tournaments." Xibalba chuckled. "I won every single match without a single scratch, there wasn't anyone who could touch me, until one day I unknowingly faced off against a Norse god who, like me, enjoyed taking part in jousting tournaments just for fun. I was too confident and didn't realize my mistake until it was too late…"

"What happened?"

"He knocked me and I fell off my horse, the worst thing was that I knocked my head on a rock."

La Muerte gasped, nearly choking on the éclair she was eating. "You… knocked your head with a rock?!"

"Since I was a god, it didn't kill me, but I guess something went loose in my brain, and I've been having these seizures ever since."

"How often do you have them?"

"Depends. Sometimes every few months, or days, but they always come out of nowhere."

"Regina told me no one knows about it. Why didn't you go see Toci or Itzamna?"

"For what? I doubt they could help me, and besides, the last thing I need is those two telling all of Aztlan about my condition. It'd ruin my reputation."

"Is your reputation more important than your health?"

"Not quite. All I will tell you is that I'd rather keep it a secret."

Before La Muerte could protest any further, suddenly a hissing noise caught her attention. She recognized the sound of a snake when she heard it, and looked around her chair, lifting her feet off the ground in alarm in case it was poisonous. Xibalba, however, kept eating and didn't show any alarm at the sound of the snake. La Muerte yelled in fright when out of sudden a purple two-headed snake slithered from under the bed and glanced up at her. She would have thrown something at it, had she something to throw that wasn't fragile.

"Don't exaggerate." Xibalba rolled his eyes, finishing with his eggs and bacon and moving to his pastries.

"Exaggerate?! What's a snake doing here?!" La Muerte shrieked, she had never been fond of snakes.

The dark god looked down at the reptile and held out his arm at it. "Here, boy." The snake slithered around his arm and into his bed to curl up next to his lap. Then he glanced at his terrified wife. "La Muerte, this is Ponzoña." Xibalba pointed at his snake.

"Seriously? A snake? Is there an animal you don't have?!"

"Oh, quit it. You have lots of animals in the Land of the Remembered."

"But they're not dangerous animals!"

"Don't be like that, Ponzoña is harmless…" Xibalba chuckled and took a sip of his orange juice. "Most of the time."

"It's not funny, Xibalba."

"Where's your sense of humor, dear La Muerte?"

"Sense of humor? It's not funny, what if your…" La Muerte glanced at Ponzoña with her stomach churning. "…pet ends up killing someone?"

"He doesn't do that unless I tell him too." The dark god plucked two pieces from his scone and fed them to his snake's two heads. "And he's not my 'pet'. He's been my friend ever since I had the use of reason."

La Muerte noted how Ponzoña rubbed his heads against Xibalba's arm affectionately; he did seem very attached to the dark god, and vice versa. Definitely, Xibalba had his soft spot for those close to him. Xibalba winced as he sat up until his back was laying against his pillows, and he placed the now-empty tray aside carefully, his wings stretching for a while as he glanced at his wife. "Do you have any plans for today, my dear?"

"Not really. I don't mean to complain, but there's not much to do down here. How about you?"

"Well, since the episode that happened yesterday, I'm supposed to be remain in bed for the whole day." Xibalba sighed and crossed his arms as he looked towards the ceiling. "So I guess that's one thing we have in common for the moment. The worst thing of this mess is that tomorrow I'll have to deal with a great pile of paperwork."

"I can imagine it…"

The two remained silent for a couple of minutes. A long, awkward silence as La Muerte tapped her fingers on her forearms while Xibalba stroked one of Ponzoña's heads to kill the time. They were clearly waiting for the other to say something, but they had nothing to say. Finally, Xibalba couldn't bear the silence any longer and decided to break the ice.

"So…" he said gently. "You've never ridden a horse before, right?"

La Muerte looked away when her cheeks became red. "No. Father said it wasn't proper for a lady."

"Nonsense talking. There are many women in Europe that are skilled riders, only that their riding is different from men's."

"Lucky them. Father has always been a bit strict when it came to things a lady should and shouldn't do. He only agreed to let me learn fencing when I promised him I wouldn't do anything unlady-like."

"And here I thought that they were sexist in Europe." Xibalba sighed, shaking his head. "Say, La Muerte… If you'd like, I could… you know, riding a horse is not that hard."

"You're offering to teach me how to ride?"

"If you don't mind, that is. I mean, you did fall off the horse and hurt yourself."

La Muerte rubbed her head in remembrance. "I don't have anything against it, actually. The horse was not to blame, something must have spooked him."

"You're right in that. If someone is to blame, that's me."

"No, you're not to blame either-"

"I challenged you to that silly bet even though I knew you had no experience-"

"And I agreed. I knew you were more experienced than me, but I still agreed. I'd say the both of us have an equal part on the blame."

"So, what do you say?"

"Well…" La Muerte couldn't help but smile a bit at her husband. "I guess it would be okay."

Now it was Xibalba's turn to grin. "Just to warn you, I'm a bit strict teacher."

"I think I can handle it."

Xibalba chuckled, before suddenly he felt a small aching on his shoulder that made him lay down on bed again. "It will have to be tomorrow, it seems, considering I'm staying here all damn day…" he sighed irritated, crossing his arms.

"What do you usually do when you have to be in bed?"

"Read a book, but they're in the library and as I just mentioned, I can't leave bed."

"I could bring you one."

"No offense, but I don't think you'll be able to find any of my favorite books."

"Please, it's not easy to guess what you like, most of those books are dark-themed, I wouldn't be surprised if your favorite book had something to do with monsters that attacked humans."

"That's quite close, my dear, but not enough."

La Muerte thought for a moment. Then she had an idea, she grinned at the dark god. "How about a wager?"

He raised an eyebrow. "A wager?"

"I'll go to the library and bring you one of your favorite books."

"Hehe, you'd never come back. There's no way you'll find it." Xibalba chuckled. "How about we make it more interesting?"

"Interesting you say?"

"You have to find it in one hour."

One hour?! In that humongous library?! There was no way she'd ever find it in such a short time, she was certain he was toying with her, judging by the amused and taunting smile on his lips. Oh, he wouldn't give him the pleasure!

"What are the stakes?" La Muerte grinned.

"If I win, you'll give me another of those massages." Well, at least he hadn't asked that she sleep in the same room as him.

"And if I win, you will…" La Muerte tapped her chin with her finger and looked up. "Read me your favorite book."

Xibalba's grin disappeared; it was clear he didn't like reading out loud to people. Still, he chuckled humorlessly at his wife. "Very well, my dear." He held out his hand. "By the ancient rules…"

La Muerte shook his hand. "…the wager is set."

"You know what, I feel benevolent, so I'll give you a clue to one personal favorite of mine." The dark god was still grinning confidently. "I fell in love with an angel. Her voice calls to me. My music, my face. I was rejected."

"I'll be back before you know it, mister."

With those parting words, La Muerte turned into a blur of marigold petals and zoomed to the library through the dark hall of the castle. Luckily she had already memorized the interior of the castle and she could walk around without getting lost. She went through the doors and materialized, then she started to look in the bookshelves for anything that may have to do with the riddle.

But just as Xibalba had said, it was not as easy as it appeared, the library was large and there were millions of books. It would take her days, no, months to even find something, and she only had one hour. This was like finding a needle in a haystack. There had to be something she could do to find anything sooner, and she had to find it now. After wasting ten minutes in looking through the first row of bookshelves, La Muerte huffed in exhaustion and flopped unto one of the wooden chairs, taking her hands to her head. This would take too long, she had already wasted precious time in randomly searching through tomes. There had to be something she was overlooking, but she was at loss on what to do. And being sitting here complaining wasn't helping either. The door creaked and she lifted up her head to find Roberto and Emilio on the doorway with dusters.

"Oh, my lady!" Emilio gasped in surprise. "Sorry if we interrupted you, if you'd like us to go-"

"No, no, don't mind me. You can come in and do your chores, I'm just…" La Muerte sighed and rubbed her temples.

"I don't mean to sound intrusive, my lady, but is something wrong?"

"Not at all, just a wager with Xibalba… I'm supposed to find his favorite book in one hour and I've already wasted fifteen minutes."

"His favorite book?" Roberto laughed softly as he started to dust one of the bookshelves. "He has many."

"Then could you help me?"

"We'd like to, mi lady, but…" Emilio laughed nervously, fidgeting with his feather duster. "Five minutes ago Lord Xibalba forbad us from telling you what his favorite book was."

La Muerte groaned and hid her face in her hands.

"He said we couldn't tell her which of his favorite books was the right one." Roberto grinned as he looked back from the bookshelf. "But he didn't tell us that we couldn't lend her a hand." He climbed down from the wooden ladder that led into the upper bookshelves with a tome. "This is one of his favorites, Dracula."

"Roberto!" Emilio cried out in dismay.

"Then there's The Black Cat, The Raven, Frankenstein, The Pit and the Pendulum…" As he listed down the books, he crawled through the shelves and threw the books towards the table, which landed into a perfect pile until there were about thirty books in a pile. "And, those are the ones he likes to read the most."

"If Lord Xibalba finds out about this, it'll be our necks!" Emilio shrieked with grit teeth.

"Come on, Emilio, it's not that bad."

"Besides, what Xibalba doesn't know won't hurt him, right?" La Muerte winked an eyelash at him, which made Emilio blush.

What was the riddle he gave her again…?

I fell in love with an angel

Her voice calls to me

My music, my face

I was rejected

It didn't sound like an horror novel, so she discarded monster novels like Frankenstein and Dracula, now she only had twenty nine books to go. Apparently, it contained at least a bit of romance, so she discarded the books that didn't even touch the topic. Now she only had one option left, but… she wasn't certain if it was the one. After all, she remembered they had said Xibalba didn't like romance novels, but it was the only thing she got. She only had ten minutes left, there wasn't time to look for another book.

"Thanks for the help, chicos!" she told the lizards as she picked up the book and zoomed out of the library. Roberto waved his hand at her in a friendly way, while Emilio stared at where she had gone shyly, waving goodbye with his claws. It took La Muerte another five minutes to return to Xibalba's chambers, but as she was about to open the door she stopped, and looked down at the leather-bound book. What if this wasn't the right one? It wasn't that she didn't like the idea of massaging his back; it was rather a matter of pride. After all, she wasn't willing to lose a second time to him.

Sighing with resignation, she turned the knob of the door.

Xibalba had counted the 352th sheep when finally he heard the door creak open and he saw his wife return with a book in her hand. He sensed her anxiety and uncertainty, he was certain she failed in the task. He grinned tauntingly at her as he took his hands behind his head. "And well, my dear? Did you find it?"

La Muerte didn't say anything, her throat was dry. The suspense was giving her a suffocating feeling, her body tensed as she approached the side of bed and held out the book for him to take. Xibalba smirked confidently as he took the book gently from her grasp and glanced at the cover.

The Phantom of the Opera

His smirk slowly vanished, it somehow gave her some relief though she wasn't sure as to why. Either he didn't like it because it contained romance, or it was the contrary and she had hit the jackpot; he remained silent for a few seconds, her stomach churned with anxiety and her heart nearly stopped when he turned to look at her with an emotionless expression.

"…Well played, my dear."

D-Did that mean…? Had she…?

"SÍ!" La Muerte squealed. "Si, si!" She would have started to dance around, but she didn't want to look like a five year old who had gotten a candy in front of him.

"I'd thank you if you stopped rubbing it in my face, you know." Xibalba sighed in defeat, rolling his eyes, fidgeting with the tome.

"Sorry, it's just I can't believe it!" she chirped. "I mean, Emilio said you didn't like romance novels."

"This is not precisely romance… not your typical 'happily-ever-after' that you see in most books these days." Xibalba pointed at the book. "This is true reading, not that nonsense they read to children that leads them away from the real world."

"Children are different. They are innocent, their parents just try to teach them to have faith in themselves and follow their dreams."

"They should teach them how to fend for themselves, that's what will really keep them alive."

La Muerte wanted to protest, but she chose against arguing with Xibalba right now. After all, she was in a pretty good mood for having won their wager. "And, since I won…" She sat down in the chair next to his bed expectantly.

Xibalba sighed in dismay as he opened the book and looked for the first page. "'It was the evening of which MM. Debienne and Poligny, the managers of the Opera, were giving a last gala performance to mark their retirement...'"

This was going to be a long day.

Chapter Text

Though she was still wary around him, La Muerte found she was starting to warm up a but to the dark god, but she wondered if it wasn’t pity because she had learned of his disease and a bit of his seemingly sorrowful past, or because she was genuinely starting to like him. Xibalba had similar feelings, she was not that bad… at least not when he caught her in a good mood. She was actually very sweet when you saw past her short-temper. As they continued with their breakfast-La Muerte was having scrambled eggs, sausages and tomato with orange juice, while Xibalba was content with pancakes accompanied by sliced banana, blueberries and raspberries as well as orange juice and some coffee- La Muerte was internally trembling.

Unfortunately, Xibalba had keen senses and it didn’t go unnoticed. “Nervous?” he inquired.

“Sort of.” La Muerte replied gently, fidgeting with her bacon.

“Don’t worry, it’s not that bad.”

“You say so because you’re accustomed to riding, but I’m not.”

“Don’t worry, Lady Epona assured me the horse is actually very gentle. She’s a bit nervous, but gentle. You’ll be fine.”

“I hope so, I don’t think my head will stand another hit like that.”

Xibalba chuckled. “With how headstrong you are, I think your head could stand a thousand hits.”

She blushed and continued with her meal. A few minutes later, they were making their way outside to start with the lessons. Juarez had already saddled up the horses, and they were waiting right outside. Medianoche was snorting at the white mare next to him, but she kept trying to shift away from him. Juarez gave his master a look of dismay. “My Lord, I’m starting to think it was not such a good idea to put these two in the same stall while I finish the other one.”

“I can see that…” the dark god chuckled, before holding out his hand for his wife. “Milady…”

La Muerte grabbed his hand. “Milord.” She allowed him to lead her to the white horse, right next to the horse’s left front leg. The mare turned towards her and snorted gently, greeting her new owner. For a moment her legs trembled, but she felt her husband’s gloves on her shoulders.

“Don’t be afraid, nothing will happen. You should always mount from the left side, always stand next to your horse’s left front leg. That way you’ll reach the stirrup easily without sacrificing control of your horse.” He handed her over the reins. “Hold them with your left hand, tight enough to control her if she moves away, but don’t pull too hard on her mouth. Put your left foot in the stirrup.”

La Muerte gulped and lifted her foot unto the stirrup, quickly grabbing unto the pommel of the saddle-still holding the reins- before she lost her balance. The white mare shifted nervously, so Juarez had to hold her in place.

Xibalba continued. “Grab unto the pommel with your right hand, but don’t grab the back of the saddle, then stand on your left foot and swing your right leg over.” He gently grabbed unto her waist. “Don’t worry, I won’t let you fall.”

With a bit of effort, La Muerte did as told and climbed unto the white horse, but she stiffened when it shifted nervously. Xibalba chuckled and climbed unto his horse.

“See? It was not that bad?” he noticed she was stiff. “Try to relax, you’re making your horse nervous.”

“What if I fall off?”

“You won’t, I’m not irresponsible enough to teach you in this terrain. I’m taking you somewhere else, it’s perfect for beginners.” He grinned tauntingly. “You can make the horse move, can’t you?”

“I’m not that ignorant!”

Chuckling, he squeezed his horse’s sides and Medianoche started to walk forward. La Muerte quickly did the same, but she caught her horse by surprise and it jumped a bit before advancing. She followed Xibalba at a walking pace across the bridge, and then through the ashy and rocky terrain. After a while, Xibalba looked back at his wife. “At this pace it would take us hours, I think I’ll transport us there.”

“Transport? With horses and all?”

“It’s not that hard.” He stopped Medianoche and took La Muerte’s hand gently. “close your eyes.”

“Why?”

“Trust me.” His voice was comforting to some extent, and so she did as he told. She heard the sound of flapping wings, and energy cackling. A few seconds passed, and the energy subsided, the cold temperature disappeared and now she felt sunlight bathing her skin, much to her relief after weeks down in the cold and darkness. “You can open your eyes now.”

When she opened her eyes, the sight before her made her heart warm up and wondered if she wasn’t dreaming. The dreary and harsh landscape of the Land of the Forgotten was gone, and instead they were in a beautiful glade with plains of green grass, with trees scattered all around, but for the moment they were in a wide clearing within the glade. A crystal clear creek ran through the clearing, were a few fish could be seen swimming around. The sky was clear, and the sun was bathing the landscape beneath it generously.

“What is this place?” she couldn’t help but ask.

“It’s part of Lady Epona’s realm.” Xibalba explained, taking a look around. “Pretty, isn’t it?”

“You seem to be good friends with Lady Epona.”

“We’ve known each other for a while now. She was one of the first gods I ever met when I went to war, she is a lovely woman.” He finally looked at his wife. “Well, let’s do what we came here for. Keep up with me.” Xibalba kicked Medianoche’s sides and advanced forward; La Muerte went after him and caught up to his pace. “To keep your balance you should always keep your back and shoulders straight, a third of your feet should be in the stirrup, with your heels always pointing down.”

La Muerte nodded and did as he told, but she couldn’t soften her body, she felt all tensed up. Medianoche snorted at La Muerte’s mare, but she ignored him.

“Say, La Muerte… Have you thought of a name for her?” Xibalba inquired, glancing at the white mare.

“I was thinking… Blanca.”

“It suits her.”

For a while Xibalba taught and showed La Muerte the basics of horse riding, guiding it and keeping her balance. However, he was losing his patience at how she failed to relax. Finally, he dismounted and approached her, straightening her back gently and making sure her feet were properly accommodated on the stirrups.

“Like this?” the goddess inquired, shivering at feeling Xibalba’s hands touching her.

“Yes, but try not to be nervous.” Xibalba replied gently with a small pinch of dryness in his voice. “You’ll put Blanca nervous.”

“Easy for you to say.”

“The trick is showing your horse who’s in charge, but don’t take it too far. Let her know you trust her, and she trusts you.”

“But what if she spooks again?”

Xibalba chuckled. “First of all, don’t freak out, it’ll make it worse. You have to pull the reins and soothe her down.”

“Don’t freak out? It’s quite hard considering she can easily throw me off her-“ suddenly a hare darted in front of Blanca, and she spooked, rearing up in her rear legs. “BAAACK!”

Xibalba reacted and caught La Muerte in his arms as she fell from her horse, but he fell backwards and landed on his back, still holding his wife in his arms; their faces were inches away from each other, and she was awkwardly resting against his chest. They blushed fiercely in embarrassment

“I-I’m sorry…” La Muerte stuttered.

“No problem…” Xibalba replied, his cheeks red and his heart drumming inside his chest as he rose to his feet and helped her up. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I think so…”

Medianoche neighed at Blanca, as if he were laughing at her, the mare looked away in annoyance. Xibalba chuckled.

“Looks like we’re not the ones who need to get along…”

“I think I’ll take me a while to get used to this…” La Muerte sighed, crossing her arms.

“Don’t worry, it’s easy when you get used to it. You can even teach her tricks once you’re comfortable enough with her.”

“Tricks?” La Muerte raised an eyebrow.

“Sure. Almost like a dog.” Medianoche snorted at his master in annoyance with bent back ears. Xibalba snickered. “I’m not talking seriously, boy.”

“Does he know any tricks?”

“I taught him some in my youth.” He noticed the look she was giving him. “Would you like to see some?”

“I… I wouldn’t like to bother you…”

“It wouldn’t be a bother at all.”

La Muerte didn’t say anything else and simply watched as Xibalba mounted back unto his horse and pulled the reins, making Medianoche back away a bit. The dark god looked down at his wife with a grin. “This one’s called the Spanish walk.” Holding the reins tightly, he kicked Medianoche’s sides, but instead of a normal walk the stallion lifted his forelegs in an exaggerated upward and forward manner as he advanced.

“That’s amazing!” La Muerte couldn’t help it and she clapped her hands in excitement. Even Blanca seemed to show a bit of interest, watching curiously at the dark steed doing antics.

“That’s nothing. Look at this.” Once more he pulled the reins and made his horse stop, but he didn’t remain still, instead he started to trot in place on a collected and cadenced manner. “This is the piaffe.”

After ten minutes of showing her a few more tricks (such as the half-pass, the pirouette, the levade and the passage), both gods decided to let their horses relax a bit. They led them to the creek and the two animals immediately bent down their necks to take a refreshing drink, though Blanca went a little more far and dipped her hooves in the water.

“You taught him a lot of tricks.” La Muerte smiled

“Well, I had to entertain myself doing something.” Xibalba replied gently, patting Medianoche’s neck.

“Really, Xibalba, you’re a very skilled rider.”

“Is that a compliment, my dear? I never thought I’d ever hear one.”

“If my father saw me now, he would have had a heart attack.”

“Just because you’re riding a horse? It’s not such a bad thing.”

“He’s always been like that. Ever since…” she stopped herself as suddenly the memory stung at hear heart. She couldn’t bring herself to say it; it always brought tears to her eyes. She felt her husband’s gloved hand on her shoulder.

“Are you okay?”

“Y-Yes, I’m fine…”

Their attention was caught at the sound of a horn in the distance. La Muerte jumped, but she felt Xibalba grabbing her shoulders gently. “Don’t worry, it’s not dangerous.”

“What do you mean?”

“We’re going to have some company soon.”

In fact, soon a group of horsemen appeared on the horizon. Most of them wore European armor, and carried lances or swords. Finally, they stopped a few meters away from the couple of gods at the command of someone on top of a beautiful palomino. The rider was a beautiful red-haired woman with fair skin, and icy blue eyes, she was wearing a white gown with trimmed white roses. La Muerte noted her horse had no saddle nor bridle, and its mane was adorned with flowers.

“Why, Xibalba!” the woman laughed in excitement, glancing down at the dark god. “Long time no see, old friend!”

Xibalba took a hand to his chest and gave the goddess a respectful bow. “Lady Epona.”

La Muerte glanced up at her in surprise and felt a strange, warm feeling when she looked at her. Epona was looking down at her warmly.

“So this is your wife La Muerte?” she said gently. “She’s as beautiful as you described her, My Lord.”

La Muerte curtsied. “Pleased to meet you, Lady Epona.”

“Well, since you’re here, why don’t you come and have a cup of tea. We have much to talk about, Xibalba.”

“We wouldn’t like to be a bother, Epona…”

“Oh, you’re no bother at all! I’ll be more than happy to receive you!” she led her horse rightwards. “So, shall we go?”

La Muerte turned to her husband. “I think it’ll be fine, Xibalba.”

Xibalba was not very fond of tea, but he didn’t want to look bad with Epona, and so he let out a sigh. “Well, I guess a little cup of tea won’t do bad.”

“Perfect! Let’s go!”

La Muerte and Xibalba mounted their horses and followed Epona and her escort, to their camp in the middle of the forest. It was a beautiful and wide medieval tent of emerald green with golden swirls on the outside, surrounded by guards and small fires, as well as horse poles and troughs for them to drink from. Dismounting their steeds, Epona led her guests inside the tent, where it was a contrasting soft white. There was a tea table already prepared for them, adorned with a white cloth, on top of it was a carefully accommodated tea set of gold edging, each piece was decorated on white porcelain with a mauve, yellow and red floral and butterfly pattern. At the center of the table was a chocolate cake, and a tray with biscuits and cookies. Epona motioned for the chairs at the sides of the table. “Please, take a seat.”

Xibalba grumbled something under his breath, but he pulled the chair back for La Muerte to sit down, and then went to take a seat himself. La Muerte was curiously taking a look at her cup, the utensils and the snacks, she had heard about tea time in Europe from her dearly departed mother but she never had the chance to learn more about it. Maybe this was not such a good idea after all, she didn’t want to look ignorant in front of a foreign goddess. One of the maids inside proceeded to fill the cups of tea, before placing the teapot back on the table and stepping back with a small bow.

“So, how are things going in your realm, Xibalba?” Epona inquired curiously, adding a spoonful of sugar and some cream to her tea.

“It’s… quiet down there.” He simply said, stirring his tea with the teaspoon.

“I guess it hasn’t changed much, has it?”

“No. It’s as miserable and depressing as always.”

Epona glanced at La Muerte, and with one look she could tell she was not familiarized with tea time. “Would you like some cream, milady?”

La Muerte blinked, brought out of her trance. “Excuse me?”

“I asked if you would like some cream, friend?”

“I think so, gracias…” she felt like an idiot, but said nothing else as the same maid from before poured a bit of cream into her tea, before she wordlessly motioned her that it was enough.

“Where are you from, La Muerte?” Epona asked, taking a sip of her tea. “Xibalba mentioned you are of Aztec heritage, but from which realm? I’m not very familiarized with the gods of the New World.”

“I’m from the Land of the Remembered.” La Muerte said softly, taking a sip of her tea and, finding it a little too bitter, added two spoonful of sugar.

“I have not yet heard about it, who inhabits there?”

“Those who still live in the memory of their living families.”

“Is it like Xibalba’s realm?”

“You wish…” the dark god muttered, before taking a small gulp from his tea and taking a chocolate biscuit as well as a slice of chocolate cake.

La Muerte ignored the comment. “No, it’s much more colorful and festive. There are endless fiestas, and people are happy, my father is always throwing epic banquets for our subjects, especially on Day of the Dead.”

Epona blinked at the unfamiliar term. “Day of the Dead? Is that a celebration?”

“It’s almost similar to Samhain, dear Epona.” Xibalba stated. “It’s a time of the year when the dead can pass between worlds, the only difference is that in Day of the Dead they must be remembered to cross over, otherwise they end up in my realm. Mortals take food and offerings to the graves of their deceased kin as a well to honor their memory.” He took a bite of his cake.

“Oh…”

“Is Samhain similar to the Day of the Dead?” La Muerte inquired, her curiosity sparked.

“In a way. It’s rather a festival marking the end of the harvest season and the beginning of the darker half of the year, and not only the deceased visit the mortal realm, the Aos Sí do so to. Because of this, people disguise themselves similarly to Aos Sí and go from door to door reciting verses to ask for food, in a way to disguise from the authentical spirits. Though these centuries the celebrating of Samhain has almost disappeared thanks to the Spanish Inquisition,” there was a twinge of bitterness in Epona’s voice. “in America it’s being reborn as… Halloween, I think…”

Xibalba sighed in annoyance and continued with his tea and treats, hearing as his wife and Epona chatted casually about simple things, such as their lands, customs and families. He remained silent for a while, though deep down he had missed teatime with Epona, she always made things interesting.

“So how did you name the horse?” Epona inquired.

“Blanca.” La Muerte smiled.

“It’s beautiful. I’m glad you liked her. She is a very good-tempered mare, she should give you no problem, but I must tell you she spooks quite easily.”

“Yeah, I’ve noticed.”

Epona giggled and glanced at Xibalba. “And here I thought you’d never find a girlfriend, let alone a wife.”

 Xibalba nearly choked unto his cake, but he managed to gulp it in the last minute. La Muerte nearly giggled when she saw his bewildered expression. “So, you have known each other for a long time?”

“Yes. I offered him my castle for the first decades he spent in Europe during the wars.” Epona motioned La Muerte to come closer so she could whisper into her ear. “I must tell you, he’s a very wild lover.”

Xibalba froze when those words left her lips, and La Muerte’s arms drilled unto him like piercing daggers. 

“You were her lover?!”

Xibalba sighed in exhasperation, and his wings wrapped instinctively around his body in case La Muerte tried to throw something at him. “No!” her angry gaze sent shivers down his spine. “Well, something did happen between us but it was centuries ago!”

She so wanted to lunge at him for dismissing it as easily as that. “And that’s all? Did you even think about her feelings when you discarded her like a piece of trash?!”

“Please! It was nothing serious! We just-!”

“So you simply used her to satisfy your needs, right?! I don’t want to imagine how many goddesses you bedded!”

Now it was Xibalba’s turn to grow angry. “Whatever I did in the past is not of your business! What happened, happened! Or what, do you want me to go back in time?!”

“That’s not the point!”

“Then what’s the point?!”

“Have you ever wondered if Epona loved you? You could have broken her heart!”

“oh, come on! You act like it was a capital sin, we just quenched our carnal desires!”

“Is that how you see women?!” La Muerte snapped. “They’re only here to satisfy men’s needs?”

“In a certain way, that’s correct.”

What happened next was a blur for them both, in a fit of fury and indignation La Muerte’s hand flew towards Xibalba’s cheek but his much larger hand caught her arm in the last moment, his eyes narrowing at her and his teeth growing sharp. He pulled her against him, restraining her arms with his hands, his wings outstretching.

“Let go of me!” La Muerte tried to free herself, but it was to no avail.

“Not until I’m done speaking.” Xibalba hissed, before his sharp claw ran down her cheek. “You’re so beautiful, you know… so pure…”

“I’m not letting you touch me-!”

“As much as I’d like to, even I have my principles, dear La Muerte! If I wanted to, I could have already made you mine from the moment you set a foot in my castle, but I did not! Have you not noticed?”

La Muerte’s struggling ceased as his words sank in, he had a good point there. He had his flaws, that was true, but up to now he had not disrespected her in any way. Xibalba released her when he was certain she had calmed down.

“Look, I know what I did wasn’t… pleasant, but whether you believe me or not Epona felt the same as me. She didn’t mind that we… made it, she was so lonely…”

“And so were you.” La Muerte finished for him, calmly this time. “I get it. I do not approve of the way you simply used her, but I can’t completely condemn you completely either. I’m just saying you should consider women’s feelings too, you shouldn’t treat them like sex slaves, you know.” Her voice became dry and annoyed once more.

Xibalba sighed heavily and turned his back on his wife, heading towards his window with his hands behind his back. “Please, leave me alone.”

“Is that how you solve things-?”

“Out.”

La Muerte shook her head and walked out of her husband’s chambers. Xibalba didn’t turn around as she left, closing the door behind her. She must think of him as some sort of monster, or even lower than that if that was possible. While he usually didn’t care what others thought of him, the idea of this particular goddess thinking the worst of him bothered him. Damn it, there was just so much in his head! A few minutes later, he left his chambers and walked down the hall towards his organ room; he closed the door behind him, he never liked to be interrupted when playing.

He saw down in the bench, in front of his beloved organ, and ran a finger over the keys delicately. While nowadays people thought pipe organs were old-fashioned and were being replaced by more modern pianos, he preferred the organ over them. It had a powerful resonance, and it reminded him of Europe, now to mention it helped him clear his mind.

Closing his eyes, he started to play a dark and haunting tune.

Chapter Text

As she made her way into the courtyard to try and take a breath of fresh air(if she could call this air that smelt of ash fresh at all), she heard organ playing from within the castle, once again the tune it played made her skin crawl and gut her soul with sadness, it always sounded like Xibalba expressed all his sorrow and pain through his playing, and she could tell it was his favorite pastime.

The courtyard was, lie the rest of the castle and realm, gray and dark with no signs of life, other than the tall, withered tree with chalky gray bark whose branches spread out like clawed hands reaching out to catch whatever came too close. There was a think layer of snow that covered the stone path and the rest of the garden, while more ash and snow fell from the sky and accumulated in the branches of the tree. A great obsidian wall surrounded the whole courtyard, though there were stone paths that led to other sections of it she had yet to see. Trembling from the cold, she made her way towards the nearby bench on the side of the yard and removed the snow away with a wave of her hand, and sat down. Her red dress and sombrero contrasted strongly with the dark colors of her surroundings, and the candles adorning them were just a dim light in a consuming darkness, though they did help keep her warm.

A caw caught her attention, and she turned her head around to see where it had come from. Another caw, and she looked towards the upper branches of the tree, where she spotted an unnaturally large crow perched, staring down at her with green eyes that seemed to glow. Its feathers seemed worn and ragged, almost like Xibalba’s wings, but she knew this animal couldn’t be him, the music was still playing, which meant the dark god still had to be playing. Out of sudden the crow stretched its wings and glided down the tree to land at her feet, looking up at her curiously. La Muerte’s love for animals got the better of her, and she smiled down at the bird.

“Hello there, amiguito.” She spoke gently, leaning down to stare at it. “How did you get here?” In fact, how come there was a crow in this inhospitable land? She had not seen any animals other than Xibalba’s, or maybe they lived in another part of the Land of the Forgotten.

The crow cawed at her and flew towards one of the paths, stopping in mid-air at the mouth of the stone arc above it and looking back at the goddess. Realizing the animal wanted her to follow it, she stood up from her seat and lifted the skirt of her dress to go after it. The crow led her through the labyrinth, though it was wary not to get out of her sight; La Muerte was a bit puzzled by the bird’s behavior, it was like it knew its way around here. Finally they came to the center of the labyrinth, to a circular opening with a fountain of frozen water in the middle. The crow landed on top of it, and glanced down at her. Then, the unthinkable happened.

The bird spoke. “So, you’re La Muerte?”

La Muerte’s eyes widened and her pupils shrunk as she stepped back in fright, looking up at the dark raven in shock and fright. The bird noticed. “Oh, my apologies. You do not know who I am in this silly disguise.”

The crow flew down to land on the ground, and as soon as its talons touched the snow a green flame that grew larger and larger surrounded it. The fire grew until it was taller than her, and when it extinguished La Muerte couldn’t contain a gasp. Before her lay a dark, bulky yet slim god with the head of a crocodile, and human torso, but he had crow talons as legs, and a long feathery tail. Most of his body was covered in dark feathers, and his long bat ears had a feathery look to them as well, there was also a crest of crowning feathers of his head that were currently raised curiously. His wings, unlike the rest of his body, were completely naked without a single feather, like bats. The only clothing he wore was a long dark brown cloak that touched the floor, obsidian bracers on his forearms and forelegs, and a deep purple loincloth with symbols she couldn’t recognize. His eyes were moderate harlequin, with dark grayish oval around two black slits.

La Muerte was frozen in fear at the being in front of her, in fear he was going to do something to her, but something gave her the feeling he had no bad intentions with her. He was examining her upside-down, before he gave her a toothy grin. “You sure are a beautiful woman, My Lady.”

It took La Muerte a great effort to reply. “T-Thank you…”

“Oh, sorry! Where are my manners? I’m Lord Zipacna,” the caiman-headed god bowed politely at her. “Ruler of the Land of the Cursed.”

At the revelation of his identity, La Muerte felt her heart skip a beat and her eyes widened a bit more in shock. She had heard about that land, it was where humans who committed grave faults against the gods were punished for all eternity, but no one knew other than that about it, since its ruler was somewhat of a recluse, which made her wonder what she was doing here, in a foreign realm.

“I’m La Muerte,” she replied with a curtsy, calmly this time upon realizing that, indeed, Zipacna had no foul intentions.

“Ah, yes, I’ve heard about you. You’re the eldest daughter of King Sol and Queen Esperanza, right?”

La Muerte felt a pang of sadness at the mention of her mother. “Yes.”

“I never thought Xibalba would ever find himself a wife.” Zipacna chuckled. “He’s not precisely… friendly with others, he doesn’t even like to be around women.”

“You… know my husband?”

“Know him? He’s my brother.”

For the third time, La Muerte’s eyes widened and her heart skipped a beat as she stared at Zipacna. This was Xibalba’s mysterious brother? IT was not that she found it so hard to believe, but he looked nothing like Xibalba, there was not even a bit of resemblance between them in any way. Zipacna noticed the look she was giving him. “You don’t believe me, do you?”

“It’s not that! It’s just that…” the goddess bit her lip, not knowing how to express it without offending him. “Well…”

“He has not mentioned me, has me?”

“When I tried to ask him, he refused to tell me anything.”

“I see…” Zipacna drooped his ears and crown feathers and looked down sadly, and muttered under his breath. “So he’s still mad at me…” he lifted his gaze to meet La Muerte’s. “How has he been treating you?”

“Quite fairly, I must say. I never thought he’d treat me nicely, we do have our arguments every now and then but overall he’s been quite the gentleman.”

“He’s not that bad, cariño. It’s just he’s suffered so much…” he sat down in the edge of the fountain, his voice giving off sorrow and regret.

La Muerte sat down next to him. “Regina did mention that he wasn’t always the way he is now…”

“Ah, Regina, sometimes she tells the wrong people what she shouldn’t… Don’t take me wrong, it’s just that my brother has never liked to talk about the past. It brings him painful memories, so he chose to bury it away.”

“You sound like you love him very much.”

“Why wouldn’t I? He’s my hermanito.”

“Why are you estranged now?”

Zipacna sighed sadly. “It’s a long story, cariño.”

“I wouldn’t mind to hear it, I haven’t got much to do, anyway.”

After a few seconds, Zipacna rubbed his arms and a small smile spread across his feathery maw. “We weren’t always like this, you know. We were very close when we were kids…”

Children laughter echoed through the dark realm as a flock of crows and a ball of tar chased after one another, avoiding the sharp edges and stalactites scattered randomly and of different sizes. After a good while, they materialized on top of a cliff, revealing their appearances. A caiman-headed eight-year-old godchild covered in feathers, and another of five years old with the appearance of a winged dark skeleton. The older godling laughed hysterically, but the younger one pouted and crossed his arms.

“No fair!” Xibalba grumbled.

“Come on, hermanito! Don’t be a sore loser!” Zipacna replied tauntingly, patting his little brother’s head.

“I touched the tip of your tail!”

“It doesn’t count, you were supposed to touch me with your hand, not only with your finger.”

“Aww!”

Zipacna grinned and pulled his little brother closer into a bear hug. “Don’t worry, I’ll let you win the next time, hermanito.”

Xibalba looked up at his brother with teary eyes. “You promise?”

“I promise.”

The two brothers played for a few more hours, before the Zipacna realized it was getting late. It was not that they liked to be in the castle, especially when their father was home, but what other choice did they have.

“It’s time to go back, Xibalba.”

“No…” the younger godchild trembled at the thought. “What if Father is home?”

“Don’t worry, I won’t let him do anything to you. Besides, you don’t want mamá to worry, do you?”

At the mention of his mother, Xibalba’s looks softened. “No, I don’t want her to worry.”

“Then come on, let’s go before Father finds out we’re missing.”

Zipacna picked his little brother up and put him on his back, then he extended his wings and took flight, flying back to the castle as fast as he could. Soon they arrived, and he landed at the castle gates, then he placed Xibalba back on the ground and took a peek through the door to make sure their father wasn’t around. When he was certain the coast was clear, he motioned his little brother to follow him, the both of them made their way to their mother’s chamber. But as the doors came into view, Zipacna noticed something was going on. Emilio, Roberto and various other servants were gathered outside with downtrodden expressions, almost sorrowful expressions. Regina was sobbing and drying her eyes with a napkin. Zipacna instantly knew something bad had happened, but Xibalba didn’t figure it out.

“Regina?” the young godchild asked. “Why are you crying?”

“Where’s mamá?” Zipacna asked with a feeling of dread inside his chest, fearing the answer.

None of the lizards looked at them. The looks of anguish in their faces just intensified.

“Boys… oh, boys…” Regina sobbed.

“Where’s mami?!” Xibalba tried to go into the room, but Lorenzo stopped him by the waist.

“Don’t go in there, you shouldn’t see what you will find.” He spoke. That’s when Xibalba knew something was wrong. Lorenzo almost never spoke unless it was something serious.

“What happened?!” Zipacna grew as desperate as his little brother.

“Boys, listen…” Emilio didn’t know what to say. “You have to be strong for wat I’m going to tell you. Your mother…”

“Did something happen to her?!”

Emilio closed his eyes shut, not bearing to see the two boys’ shocked and heartbroken expressions when the next words left his lips.

La Muerte took her hand to her lips as her eyes swelled up with tears. She could see old pain and sorrow in Zipacna’s eyes, and he wrapped his wings around his body, trying his best not to cry at the memory. “I’m so sorry…” she whispered, placing a hand on his shoulder.

“Don’t worry, I overcame it a long while ago. But Xibalba never did, he doesn’t like speaking about Mom at all, he won’t admit it but it brings him hurtful memories, but I think I mentioned it before.”

“What happened after that?”

“We were left alone with Father. He was not the best father, he was cruel not only to others, he was cruel to us, even though we were his flesh and blood. He was even cruel to Mom, sincerely I wouldn’t be surprised if she died out of a broken heart. His punishments were very cruel; he punished us if we didn’t obey, if we went against him, or if he simply was on a bad mood.”

“I can’t believe it…”

“One day, I just couldn’t take it anymore…”

It had been months since she died, but to them it felt like yesterday. The two brothers were brokenhearted, and they were as close than ever before, but their father’s abuses just got worse and worse. Zipacna decided he could not stand this kind of life. He was free-spirited, and he felt like a bird in a cage, besides he was not getting the crown anyway. Their father had already decided on who would be his successor, for some reason he found Zipacna repulsive, something that the young god could never understand. The point was he had chosen Xibalba as his successor, and so Zipacna had little to do here.

He wanted to see the world, and be free.

As he opened his window and stretched his wings, preparing to take off, he heard footsteps behind him. Zipacna perked up his ears in alarm as he glanced back into the room, fearing his father had caught him, but it was not him.

“Zippy?” Xibalba was staring at him with teary eyes, clutching a stuffed snake in his arms. “Where are you going?”

What could he say? He was too young, he wouldn’t understand. A part of him wanted to take Xibalba with him, but he didn’t want him to live a runaway’s life. His eyes glistened with tears as he looked down at his little brother one last time.

“I’m sorry, hermanito…”

With that, he took off and flew away from the castle, away from the place that caused him so much pain, and he tried not to look back as his little brother called out to him in despair, begging him to take him along.

La Muerte remained silent for the following minutes, hanging unto the caiman-headed god’s every word. There was a look of regret in his face that made her heart churn in pity for him.

“After I left, I travelled to lots of Lands, I even visited other countries. I missed Xibalba, but I was too afraid to return and face Father, so I didn’t dare go back. When I turned eighteen I was given the custody over the Land of the Cursed, and so I didn’t have time to go and take a look at how things were doing.”

“You abandoned him?” Still, no matter how sorry she felt for him, she couldn’t believe he had abandoned his younger brother and left him alone, just after their mother passed, and with such a cruel father. As an elder sister herself, she couldn’t even imagine it.

“After a few centuries, I found out father had died, and Xibalba had ascended to the throne. I thought maybe I could go and see him, so we could start over…” he chuckled bitterly. “I was foolish to think he’d take me back so easily…”

“What happened between you?”

“I hadn’t seen him in so much time, naturally I was excited. So excited I didn’t stop to think if he would feel the same…”

It had been so long ever since he had been in these halls. The castle hadn’t changed that much, it seemed Xibalba hadn’t bothered to redecorate in all these years. Emilio and the others were surprised, and happy to see him after all these centuries, though they were nervous as to how their Lord would react. Emilio told him Xibalba would meet him in the throne room.

For the first time in centuries, Zipacna felt his stomach churning nervously, and he was thinking on what he would say, but overall he was worried on how his brother would receive him. The last time they had seen each other was a very sad occasion, and he couldn’t help worrying about it.

“Zipacna.” A baritone voice echoed in the throne room. A stranger, yet familiar voice.

Gulping internally, Zipacna turned around to meet the owned of the voice, and he found his younger brother in the doorway. Zipacna couldn’t believe how much Xibalba had changed from that shy, lonely little boy. Aside from growing in size, he now wore a conquistador chest armor over a regal black cloak, black gloves adorned with teal flames, with one hand he was clutching unto his snake staff, the other hidden behind his back. Xibalba had grown two curly moustaches and a matching beard, colored white, making him look older than he actually was, his wings had grown strong and he tucked them close to his body. A silver crown with swirly horns lay on top of his head, signaling his status as King of the Land of the Forgotten. He stood tall and regal, his back was straight and his expression was stern.

When had this happened? When had Xibalba gone through this transformation? When had he grown from a smiling little boy to the strong, regal god he had in in front of him? What had happened?

“Hey, Xibalba.” Zipacna smiled at his younger brother. “How have you been doing-?”

“What do you want?” Xibalba asked him harshly, his grip on his staff tightening and his snow-white eyebrows furrowing deeply, his eyes showing nothing but contempt. His voice was sharp as a broken glass, and as cold as winter.

“I just…” he felt intimidated by his tone of voice. “I just wanted to see if you were okay.”

“Oh, so now you care? Don’t you think it’s a little too late for that?”

“Look, I know you must still be angry at me, but-“

“Angry?” Xibalba chuckled darkly. “If I were angry, I would have unleashed my hounds on you the moment you set a foot here, but I did not.” He narrowed his eyes at his older brother. “But it doesn’t change anything. If you have nothing more to tell me, leave.”

The hope and delight Zipacna felt instantly evaporated at those words. “B-But…”

“But what?” his tone hardened, as well as his features.

“Xibalba, I came here to tell you that maybe we could start over… Now that Father is dead, we could make up for lost time!”

If glares could kill, Zipacna would be dead now. Xibalba gave him a hateful, bitter glare that sent reminded Zipacna of his father’s glares.

“That’s all?” Xibalba spat, his teeth turning into pointy fangs, his eyes reflecting old pain even though he tried not to show it. “You abandon me to Father’s abuse, you never bother to see if I was alright, and then you come out of nowhere saying you want me to receive you back like nothing happened? No, Zipacna, you had your chance, and you blew it.” He turned his back on his brother and started walking away, like he was done with the conversation.

“Hermanito-!”

“Don’t call me that!” Xibalba snapped, his wings flaring open with bristled feathers, his teeth gone sharp once more, and his skull pupils rotated forward. When he calmed down, he turned his gaze away, refusing to look at his brother any longer. “Now leave. I do not want to see you again. Go waste your time somewhere else, I don’t care, just leave and do not come back.”

Before Zipacna could say anything, Xibalba was already gone.

“He had changed.” Zipacna was looking down in full regret, his eyes glistening. “The little brother I knew was gone, I almost didn’t recognize him. I’ve tried everything to make up with him, but he keeps shutting me out no matter what I try.”

La Muerte felt her eyes swelling up with tears at the sad story, but in a way she understood why Xibalba was so angry at his brother. “Why did you bring me here?”

“Well, when I heard he had gotten married I didn’t actually believe it at first. But I knew he wouldn’t tell me anything, so I came to see if it was true.”

“You want me to talk to him, do you?”

“You don’t have to if you don’t want to. In fact, I think it’ll be best if you don’t mention him I was here or he’ll be mad at me. He doesn’t want to see my picture, let alone hear my name being spoken in front of him.”

“Is that why he doesn’t like to talk about his family?”

Suddenly, Zipacna raised his ears in alarm, and he changed back into a crow to fly away, leaving La Muerte confused as to why he had left out of sudden, until she noticed the organ had stopped playing and she heard footsteps. A few seconds later, Xibalba emerged from the mouth of the labyrinth with a grim look on his face. “Who were you talking to, my dear?”

La Muerte felt her heart throb inside her chest, struggling to think on what to tell him, and finally she spoke whatever first came into her mind. “I was talking to myself.” She responded quickly, she would have sweated if it weren’t so cold out here.

Xibalba narrowed his eyes and looked like he didn’t buy it, but he changed the conversation. “How did you find your way here?”

“I got lost, and somehow I walked into this place.”

“Well, we should go back inside. It’s getting late, and besides dinner is ready.”

Internally shivering at his tone of voice, La Muerte nevertheless accepted his hand as he led her away out of the labyrinth, though she could still feel Zipacna’s eyes bore unto her. She turned her head around, and the last thing she saw of him was his crow form staring at them with sorrowful eyes, before he flew away.

The dining hall was quiet for once, except for the sound of utensils cutting meat or touching the plates, since neither La Muerte nor Xibalba had said anything during the whole course. She was thinking on whether she should try and talk to Xibalba about her encounter with Zipacna or not, but if Zipacna had been so serious about the whole thing, plus the fact Xibalba always got on the defensive wherever she tried to ask him about his family, it was another point against mentioning it to him. But She had also been deeply moved by Zipacna’s story, and thought maybe she could help a bit in helping the brothers reconcile. Sometimes her kind nature got the better of her, though not everyone appreciated it.

Finally she decided it was worth the risk, but it didn’t mean she wasn’t nervous about it. “Xibalba?”

“Hm?” the dark god inquired, munching on his leg of venison, then taking a sip of wine.

“May I ask you something?”

Finally he gulped the food in his mouth, and spoke clearly this time. “What is it?”

Once again, she became nervous at the thought of how he’d react, but nevertheless she went ahead. “About your brother…”

As expected, as soon as she mentioned it he stiffened, and his feathers bristled. “I’d rather not talk about it.”

“Why not? It’s nothing bad.”

“Nothing bad, you say. You don’t know what he did to me.”

“I do know…” She thought to herself. That’s what she wanted to tell him, but she’d have to tell him Zipacna had come to see her, and the least thing she wanted was to get him into trouble. “Then tell me.”

“It’s in the past, and besides it’s none of your business.”

“Excuse me? In case you’ve forgotten, we’re married.” La Muerte crossed her arms and frowned lightly.

“It doesn’t give you right to inquire about my past.”

“Look, I understand if it’s painful for you, but-“

“I’m fine.” Xibalba was losing his patience, judging on how his nails were digging unto the table, his teeth grew sharp and his feathers bristled.

“It’s not healthy to bottle things up! Maybe you’d feel better if you unburdened yourself-“

“ENOUGH!”

La Muerte nearly jumped in fright when out of sudden Xibalba stood abruptly from his chair with outstretched wings, sharp teeth and the ire of a demon, banging his hands on the table abruptly. He was glaring right through her, nearly blowing off steam, but soon he calmed down and his anger cooled down into an icy expression. “I’ve lost my appetite.” With that, he left La Muerte alone in the dining hall, not bothering to look back at her nor wish her a good night. La Muerte sighed and shook her head sadly, it seemed it was still painful for him, but it would take lots of efforts and a long while to get him to open up to her.

Though she wasn’t sure if the wounds of his heart would heal so easily.

Chapter Text

  The next morning, La Muerte still felt a bit guilty over how things turned out with Xibalba last night. She hadn’t seen him in all morning, it was like he was avoiding her, and it bothered her. Sure, there were times when she didn’t like to be in his presence, but she was growing fond of him, though she couldn’t tell if he felt the same way. Still, she was worried about his way to deal with unpleasant memories, judging by the way he reacted she concluded Zipacna was right, he avoided speaking about his painful memories, or anything related to them, because he thought it was easier that way.

If only he would trust her.

La Muerte walked out of her room and looked for Xibalba to have a word with him, but she didn’t find him in his chambers, or his study, or the dining hall. By the time she looked in the library, she sighed in exasperation. Really, when he didn’t want to be found, he sure knew where to hide himself. She was about to give up when she encountered Regina in the just outside the library. When she took notice of the goddess’s presence, the female lizard smiled up at her. “Buenos días, My Lady.”

La Muerte smiled back. “Buenos días, Regina. Have you seen my husband?”

“Right now, he’s in the throne room. There was a new arrival today.”

“Arrival? You mean a mortal soul?”

“Yes, from San Ángel.” Regina sighed sadly. “The poor thing has no one to remember him, and he was sent down here. Lord Xibalba must be receiving him right now.”

La Muerte felt a spark of curiosity, she had not seen any of the inhabitants of this realm just yet, other than the lizards and Xibalba’s pets. Thanking Regina for the information, La Muerte walked down the hall towards the throne room, in part because she also wanted to see how Xibalba welcomed souls to his realm. Not nicely, she assumed.

As she was getting closer to the doors that led into the throne room, she could hear some sounds coming from the inside. Chain rattling, and a snarling sound that made her jump in fright; fearing there was a monster, she sped up her pace until she was in front of the doors, and she noticed they were half-open by a little bit, enough for her to take a peek in without being noticed. Xibalba had told her not to bother him while working, so she opted to see what was happening inside from out here, without him seeing her. She didn’t want to make him more mad at her than he already was. When she heard another growl and chain rattling, she took a peek from the half-opened black door.

The throne room had an elegant air to it despite its lugubrious appearance and decorations. It was a dark, spacious room that looked like a long foyer, with sable black carpets with a menacing green dragon trimmed on the center hanging from the walls, candles of green fire illuminating it, and rivers of lava at the sides of the foyer that would probably cascade down to the moat below. Various snakes carved out of stone were over the pits of lava, almost like mini bridges, all f them had menacing looks and exposed fangs. La Muerte guessed the throne room was inside one of the snake-shapes towers characteristic of this castle, judging by the fang-like carved stone at the end of the corridor, just behind the dark, menacing throne.

Xibalba stood tall and menacing just in the middle of the throne room, his face stiffened into a snarl as he looked down at a large bestial creature with black bones and spines, and glowing green ectoplasm making out its body, it swiped its sharp claws at its King, but thick chains held it by the neck, keeping it from harming the Lord of the Land of the Forgotten. This form of aggression did not intimidate Xibalba, however.

“Pathetic.” The dark god’s voice was cold and bitter, as he clenched his hold on his snake staff (Ponzoña’s alternate form, as la Muerte learned). “Just look at you, you’re nothing more than a shadow of what you once were.”

La Muerte felt a shiver go down her spine at his tone of voice, and how he was looking down at the beast, like it was nothing more than an insect. At the same time, this beast was giving her chills.

“You’re so pitiful no one in the Land of the Living bothers to remember you, that’s the reason you’re down here.” Xibalba continued. He snickered when the Forgotten beast swiped its claws at him yet again, its chains rattling. “You must feel so lonely, so angry.” His grin turned cruel and malicious, and he towered over the Forgotten beast. Green smog started to filter out of his mouth. “I can make it better.”

La Muerte gasped in shock and horror when Xibalba grabbed the beast by the neck and lifted it from the ground with no effort and tightened his grip on it, making the beast choke in pain. His wings spread out instinctively as his teeth turned into fangs, and his pupils rotated forward. He truly looked like a demon, but the worst part began when he stared right into the beast’s eyes, and the Forgotten screamed in agony and pain, all the while Xibalba had a cruel smile drawn on his face, like he was enjoying its suffering, relishing it like a meal. 

That moment, La Muerte didn’t know what came over her, she was overwhelmed by terror and fear, fear of him, of what he was capable of, of what he could do to her. In panic, she let out a horrified gasp as she ran away from the door, down the foyer, and her feet carried her outside, to the stables. She no longer thought, her fear had taken over her reason, a primal instinct for survival. She just wanted to get away from him. She climbed unto Blanca’s saddleless back, not hearing Juarez’s alarmed protests, and she galloped across the bridge. In her hurry she forgot she did not know how to gallop yet, and she clung to Blanca’s neck at all times, while hanging unto her mane tightly. She didn’t know where she was going when she came to mainland, but all she wanted to do now was to get away from Xibalba.

She was quick to regret what she had done, however, as soon she found herself lost in this horrible realm, surrounded by nothing more than spikes and ash, even Blanca felt uneasy in this place, nervously trying to find a way back.

That’s when she started to hear the growling.

La Muerte grew alarmed and whipped her head around towards the source of the growls and snarls, fear overcoming her once more as she saw a beast similar to the one she had seen in Xibalba’s throne room stalking towards her with animalistic snarls, but the terror started when even more of these beasts appeared from behind rocks.

“Run, Blanca!” La Muerte cried, and she barely managed to cling to her horse’s neck as she galloped away as fast as she could in this rough terrain, the Forgotten beasts in hot pursuit like raving wolves going after her. Her hear throbbed inside her chest as she heard the animalistic snarls and growls, and they sounded louder and louder by the second. She desperately looked for a way back to the castle, finding none, instead galloping in circles just to get away from the beasts; the Goddess looked back to see how close the beasts were, and in this fraction of second she got distracted one of the monsters had gotten ahead of the group and jumped in front of Blanca to corner her. The white mare stopped abruptly and reared on her hind legs in fright, once more unwillingly throwing her rider off her back. La Muerte fell to the ground with a loud thud, met with a sharp pain on her back, but this time she didn’t knock her head, as she quickly stood up and ran towards Blanca, who by then had been cornered against a rock wall by the beasts.

Acting quickly, La Muerte picked up a nearby branch and swung it at the monsters that got to close, trying to protect both herself and her horse. She swung the branch at one monster that lunged at her, and she heard its bones crunch as the branch struck its target and sent the monster flying against the ground, but there were too many, and she couldn’t keep them all away. One of the Forgotten beasts rushed forward and its claws came into contact with her cheek, making her scream in pain and terror and fall to the ground, losing her grip on the tree branch. Droplets of blood trickled down her cheek as she crawled away from the Forgotten Beasts, her hear drumming and her whole body trembling in fear, even as Blanca kept rearing and stomping her hooves at the beasts, trying to protect her rider.

Just as one of the Forgotten beasts lunged at her, a blur of black flew by and sharp claws sliced at the monster, turning it into ash. La Muerte gasped in fright as Xibalba landed in front of her protectively, his wings spread out and his teeth turned to fangs, but he didn’t look back at his wife. He knew that the worst thing he could do in this case was to let his guard down even for a second.

La Muerte watched in horror, pressing her hand to her stinging cheek, as her husband engaged in a vicious fight with the Forgotten beasts, giving and receiving slashes of claws in wings, and body, he even had to shake off a Forgotten beast’s teeth form his neck. Xibalba shot green fire streams from his hands at the beasts, turning a few into ashes, but there were still to many for him to handle. He no longer thought, it was like he had succumbed to his animalistic side, he looked so different from the gentlemanly God she had met a few weeks ago. Xibalba roared in pain when one of the beasts dug its teeth into his leg, ripping his cloak when he grabbed it by the neck and throwing it away.

In less than five minutes the dark god had been mercilessly wounded. Feathers from his wings had been plucked, his cloak was ripped and his armor had been sliced away, exposing his chest to claw and bite marks. One of his gloves was gone, and one of his wings was broken. The pain in his stinging wounds and broken wing was excruciating, but he kept fighting. When he clawed at another beast, his body started to fail from the exhaustion and blood loss, and he knew he wouldn’t bear any more damage. Firing another stream of green fire at the beasts to keep them away, he finally looked back at his wife with a berserk but agonizing face and held out his ungloved hand for her. “Get close to me!”

Although reluctant after the massacre she just witnessed, her survival instinct was stronger at the moment and she quickly jumped to her feet to grab unto his hand just as he took two fingers to his mouth and gave a long whistle. A neigh echoed in the cavern as Medianoche galloped through the pack of Forgotten beasts and jumped over the green flames. La Muerte gasped in fright once more as Xibalba wrapped his arm around her waist and with the other he grasped unto Medianoche’s mane, lifting them both unto the stallion’s back. La Muerte wrapped her arms around Xibalba’s neck and buried her face into it in fright as he galloped his horse away, followed by the frightened Blanca. Once the beasts recovered from the firetrap, they went after them.

With the last of his energy, Xibalba charged a large green fireball in his palm and threw it at the pack of Forgotten beasts, exploding right in their way; finally, they seemed to get the message, as the few ones that weren’t scorched to ashes let out roars and cries of pain as they finally turned around and ran in the opposite direction, fearing any further wrath from their King.

When they crossed the bridge and arrived at the castle gate, Xibalba dismounted and helped his wife dismount. Now that they were out of danger, he could get mad at her. La Muerte gasped in shock when he grabbed her by the shoulders and glared into her eyes.

“What in tarnation were you thinking, mujer?!” he snarled, wincing at his injuries and taking a hand to his chest to try and stop the bleeding, though his angry eyes were still on her. “You nearly got yourself killed!”

La Muerte was still very much traumatized from had just happened, but she pulled back from his grasp. “Don’t touch me!”

“What? I just saved your life and this is how you thank me?”

“At what price? You hurt your own subjects!”

Xibalba groaned in disbelief (and pain). “I can’t believe it! My subjects, as you call them, nearly killed you and you’re worried about them?! It’s yourself you should be worrying about!”

La Muerte stomped her foot. “That doesn’t change the fact that they are still souls that need to find peace, not be tortured any further!”

“They need to be put back in place!”

“How can you be so cruel?!”

“How can you be so naïve-ARGH!” Xibalba could take it no longer and he collapsed unto the floor, gritting his teeth in pain and clutching his chest, before everything went black.

“XIBALBA!” Despite having being afraid and angry at him a few seconds ago, La Muerte quickly kneeled down and tried to shake her husband awake, growing alarmed when he didn’t respond.

“My Lord!” Juarez was putting Blanca into her stall when he saw the dark god collapsing, and immediately ran towards them with a horrified expression.

“Juarez, help me take him inside!” La Muerte quickly ordered the lizard as she managed with great difficulty to lift Xibalba by the arm. Juarez nodded and carried his other arm, but only it would take too long for the two of them to take him to his chambers. Juarez knew the ideal person to help them out, and called out his name as soon as they crossed the threshold. “Lorenzo!”

In less than five seconds, Lorenzo turned around the corner, on all fours, and ran towards the. “Eeee….” He froze when he saw the state his master was in. “..yup?”

“Lend us a hand! We must take Lord Xibalba to his chambers, now!” Juarez snapped at him, his legs failing from all the weight.

“Eyup!” Lorenzo did a told and helped them by lifting Xibalba from underneath, by the waist. La Muerte was impressed at how it looked so easy for him, as if he were used to this. With a bit least of weight to support, they quickly carried the dark god to his chambers.

An hour later, Xibalba lay on his bed, his chest and torso wrapped in bandages, a splint on his broken wing to prevent him from moving it and injuring it any further, and a his arm hanging from a sling, turning out that it was nearly-fractured due to the way he had to climb unto Medianoche to escape from the Forgotten beasts. The bandages had a few stains of black blood, which made La Muerte shiver. Still, her compassionate side prevented her from leaving her husband alone when he was so terribly injured.

As she squeezed a hand towel on a bowl of cool water and wiped Xibalba’s face with it, Regina was preparing him some tea in his fireplace, to keep it from getting cold, while Lorenzo and Juarez were just outside the door trying to calm Emilio down, with little success. In fact, the poor lizard had fainted as soon as he saw the condition his master was in (and all the blood).

“I can’t believe you fainted like an old lady!” Roberto was teasing him about it.

“I don’t find it any funny, Roberto! Didn’t you see how Lord Xibalba was?!” Emilio shrieked.

“You’re exaggerating, he’s strong. He’s been through worse, he’ll make it.” Juarez stated.

“Eyup.” Lorenzo supported it.

La Muerte glanced back at the door when she heard the other lizards’ voices, she would have giggled at Emilio’s reaction if the circumstances were different. A question came to her mind as she glanced at Regina. “Regina, may I ask you something?”

“What is it, My Lady?” Regina replied gently, serving some tea into a cup.

“Did you know about the way Xibalba treats his subjects?”

It took Regina a while to reply. “Yes.”

“Why is he so cruel to them? Has he always been like that?”

“I’m afraid that’s something you’d have to ask him, although we do know how he treats the souls that come down, we are not allowed to question him about it. The way he runs his kingdom should not be our concern at all, that’s what he says.” The female lizard approached the goddess and gave her the cup of tea. “Here, I’ll help you calm your nerves.”

“Gracias.” La Muerte smiled, accepting the cup.

“It shouldn’t be long before he wakes up, then you can speak to him, but try not to make him angry, if he gets too stressed any of his wounds could reopen.”

As Regina left the room, La Muerte remained seated in the chair just next to the bed, taking sips of the tea, managing to calm down a bit. She brought her hand up to her cheek where the Forgotten beast had injured her, Regina had already treated the gashes, but just touching them made her wince in dread at the memory, and her emotions conflicted when she lay her eyes on the injured Old God she had in front of her. She had finally seen his cruel side, but he had come to save her. She couldn’t condemn him for what he did; after all it was on self-defense and on her defense.

Maybe they could sort this out talking.

When Xibalba started to stir awake, he felt his whole body aching and stinging with sharp pain. Gritting his teeth, he cracked his eyelids opened and realized he was in his chambers, all bandaged up, his broken wing splintered and his arm resting on a sling. He managed to make out a shape next to him. “La Muerte...?” he whispered, trying to sit up, but she gently pushed him back down.

“Shhh. You need to rest, you’re very hurt.” She said gently, pulling up his covers.

“I can see that, or rather, feel that.” Even in this condition, Xibalba didn’t lose his sense of humor. He noticed the claw marks on his wife’s cheek, and she noticed.

“It’s okay, they’ll heal.”

They remained silent for a few seconds, with La Muerte rubbing her arms and her gaze down, not daring to look at her husband in the eye. He took notice of this. “You think I’m a monster.”

“N-No!” she said, though her voice was shaking a bit. She couldn’t make him angry.

“You’re a terrible liar, my dear. But don’t you think you should know the whole story before you judge me?”

Despite the tension, La Muerte had to say he had a good point there. “I guess you’re right.”

Xibalba accommodated himself in bed, careful not to move his broken wing. “First of all, what did you do back in the Land of the Remembered with new arrivals?”

“My mother would receive them warmly and ease their sorrows and fears, while my father helped them find their families.”

“Would you do that with the beasts that attacked us?”

“Well… I’d try to soothe them down first-“

“You can’t soothe them down. They are so angry at being forgotten by their families in the Land of the Living that they grew insane and turned into monsters without any trace of humanity left. You can say whatever you want, they will not listen, all they want is to take out their anger on whatever, or whoever, they see.”

“Are all your subjects like that?”

“No. The majority that arrive are only half-way transformed, there’s a small percentage that arrives normally, but there are also those whose bitterness and desperation has already driven them mad.” Xibalba sighed. “I can’t do anything for those, other than soothe them down for a few hours, before they go into a rampage again. They stay like that until they turn into ash.”

“Turn into ash?”

“All the souls that come here eventually cease to exist, they turn into ash after a certain amount of time, some take decades, others longer, it depends on each. The only exceptions are my servants.”

La Muerte felt a pang of sadness at the fate of these poor souls, but there was nothing she could do. “You said not all turned into monsters.”

“That’s right. Most of the souls that arrive, mostly those who come down from your father’s kingdom when they have no one left to remember them, and a few from the mortal realm, are not murderously furious. They are simply confused, frightened and slightly angry; when I receive them, I have to wipe their memories.”

“You WHAT?!”

Although taken by surprise by his wife’s outburst, Xibalba continued. “It’s the only way I can prevent them from turning into beasts. They forget why they are angry, and they change back into normal Forgotten. They do little other than wander around the realm and wish they had done something better with their lives, or that they had someone who remembered them. In a way, I help them; I save them any more pain. If I let them keep their memories, they’d grow angrier with time, eventually turning into beasts.”

La Muerte’s temper cooled down at his explanation, what he said did make sense. Suddenly the fear she felt of him started to wither, and she instead felt sympathy for him. She couldn’t blame him for his fate, he didn’t choose it, after all, who was she to criticize his way of running his own kingdom? She didn’t know what it felt like, she had never dealt with tough decisions rulers sometimes had to take. The Land of the Remembered was a happy realm, there was neither pain nor sorrow, everyone was happy, but it wasn’t the same in all the realms. The Land of the Forgotten was one clear example.

“I’m sorry.” She finally said.

“You don’t have to be, my dear. I admit, I can get quite… scary at times without realizing it.”

“ I never thought the Land of the Forgotten was so…”

“Merciless? It has always been that way, there’s nothing to do about it.”

La Muerte shifted in her seat, and she gave her husband a thankful smile. “Thank you… for saving me.”

For the first time, Xibalba smiled back at her. Not a cynical, mocking or taunting grin, a genuine smile. “You’re welcome…” his eyes were still on La Muerte’s cheek, and on the gashes left by the beast’s claws. “La Muerte?”

“What is it?”

“Come closer.”

She blinked. “Why?”

“Trust me.”

Reluctantly, La Muerte pulled her chair closer to Xibalba’s bed, so that she was within his reach. Xibalba reached out his healthy arm and gently touched her cheek, making her shiver in surprise. “What are you-?”

“Don’t be afraid.”

La Muerte felt energy emanating from his palm, and relaxed when it came into contact with her cheek, she felt a warm, ticklish sensation and the aching disappeared, this lasted for a few seconds until the energy disappeared, Xibalba removed his hand from his wife’s cheek and rested his arm back on bed. La Muerte took her hand to her cheek, and much to her surprise she found the gashes were gone, her cheek looked and felt like she had never been hurt at all.

“What…?” she whispered in awe.

“You’re too kind to deserve such a horrible mark on your beautiful face, my dear.”

“You sure know quite a lot of healing spells, don’t you?”

“Like I’ve told you before, when you fight in a war you must know at least a basic healing spell. It can save your life.” Xibalba felt a sharp pain on his chest, and winced, gritting his teeth and taking his hand to clutch at his bandages.

“It’ll hurt for some time, at least until the wounds closed. Try not to move much.”

“You mean I’m stuck in bed? Again?!”

She giggled at the look on his face. “Looks like it. I guess we’ll be spending some time together.”

Xibalba huffed in frustration and laid his head on his pillows. Wonderful, now heaven knew how much paperwork he’d have to deal with.

Chapter Text

If there was something Xibalba hated, it was being bedridden. Unfortunately, this was a recurring problem, since his epilepsy required him to rest a whole day if he had a seizure, or more depending on how grave the seizure was. This time, however, it was a bit more serious, considering he was sore all over, and he could barely shift in bed, let alone stand up, which made it a trouble to go to the bathroom. He required his servants’ help to answer the ‘call of nature’, and it embarrassed him deeply.

He had to admit, though, La Muerte would be the perfect nurse if he ever needed one. She was helpful and compassionate, she’d bring his meals to his room and feed him, but at the same time he felt like a three year old child, and he didn’t like it. Still, he was thankful for her attentions and he let her know indirectly. La Muerte knew a softer side of him, and was now certain that he was not the monster everyone thought he was. Sure, he was quite grumpy when the mood struck him, but overall he was simply misunderstood.

As he shifted with some difficulty, wincing at the pain in his articulations, Xibalba managed to sit up slightly in bed. La Muerte shifted his pillows so he could be comfortable, and carefully placed one beneath his hurt wing. His feathers bristled in discomfort, but there wasn’t much he could do about it.

“If you keep moving like this, you’ll take longer to heal.” La Muerte told him, gently pushing him back unto bed when he tried to stand up.

“You expect me to stay here all day without doing anything?” Xibalba retorted with a growl as glanced at her, annoyed. “I don’t want to leave all the paperwork stacked, it’ll be a pain in the neck.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll help you when you get better. But you’re not getting better if you don’t rest.”

Knowing it was futile to argue, he sighed and allowed his body to gently rest back unto bed. There was a knock in the door. “Come in.” Regina walked in, holding a tray with a bowl of hot soup, fried eggs and a cup of coffee.

“I’ve brought your breakfast, My Lord.” She said gently, and noticed the annoyed look on his face. “Don’t be like that, it could have been much worse!”

“Easy for you to say, since you’re not the one who has to stay all day on bed.”

La Muerte gently took the tray from Regina. “I’ll take care of the rest, don’t worry.”

“I know, maybe he’ll be less grumpy with you.”

Xibalba looked away and grumbled something under his breath, refusing to look at Regina as she walked out of the room. La Muerte placed the tray on the bedside table and glanced at her husband. “What would you like to eat first?”

“Oh, no, mujer, I’m not that helpless.” Xibalba tried to sit up, but his bones ached a soon as he tried to move and he had to lie back on bed again. “Damn it…”

“Keep complaining all you want, you can’t move right now. Besides, how are you supposed to eat with one hand?”

“I can figure something out.”

“Why must you be so stubborn about this?”

“I’m the one being stubborn?” When La Muerte glared at him with a fire in her eyes he didn’t know she had, his common sense told him not to argue with her any longer. Xibalba sighed in defeat. “Fine, I’ll have the soup.”

With a triumphant smirk, La Muerte carefully lifted the bowl from the tray and took a spoonful of it, lowering it to her husband’s lips, careful not to spill any unto him, the least thing he needed was to get burned. “Open wide.”

The dark god rolled his eyes, but he complied and accepted the spoonful into his mouth. He shivered when his tongue protested from the hot temperature, but he contained it. He felt his cheeks hot, and it was not because of the hot liquid inside his mouth. He was blushing. Wonderful, just wonderful, how could this possibly get worse?

La Muerte barely managed to contain a giggle when Xibalba blushed deeply, and crossed his arms (or rather, he wrapped his healthy arm around the other, casted one). It was a while before the bowl was empty, and she placed it back on the tray. “Would you like some coffee?”

“I think I can take a drink by myself, don’t I?” Xibalba replied. “I don’t need two hands to grab a cup of coffee. “

“Maybe, but you can’t move much yet, remember? Your wounds might ache, and make you drop the cup unintentionally.”

“Damn, isn’t there anything I can do by myself?!”

This time, a giggle escaped La Muerte’s lips when she noticed he was still blushing deeply. “You’re so cute when you’re embarrassed.”

“I’m not embarrassed, mujer! I just don’t feel comfortable with people doing everything for me!”

“You’re blushing!”

“It’s…” he tried to think of another explanation for the redness on his cheeks, but he could think on none. Knowing he had lost this discussion, Xibalba swore under his breath and looked away, still blushing.

La Muerte smiled sympathetically at him and placed a hand on his shoulder. “It’s okay if you feel embarrassment sometimes, it’s nothing to be ashamed of.”

“It shows weakness.”

“Why are you so obsessed with that? Knowing you are not perfect and accepting you have your weak spots is no weakness. No one is invincible, not even you.”

“It’s not about that! I simply don’t want everyone to know I have my… problems.”

La Muerte cut off the fried eggs in bite-size slices, before lifting up a piece and lowering to her husband’s mouth. He didn’t complain as he opened his mouth and accepted the egg, licking the yolk off his lips. “How come you are still here taking care of me despite my tantrums, as Regina calls them?”

“You need me. It’s not in my nature to abandon those who are in need, no matter how nasty or ill-mannered they are.”

“You sure have a heart of gold, my dear.”

Now it was La Muerte’s turn to blush. “Everyone says I got it from my mother.”

“Queen Esperanza, right?”

“You know of her?”

“Who doesn’t? She was famous for her kindness before she died.”

“Yeah. Even today, everyone still misses her… even my father hasn’t overcome it.”

“Say, La Muerte…” he felt like an idiot asking this. “Since we’re apparently going to spend quite some time together, we might as well talk a bit about each other.”

“I guess so. What would you like hear?”

“You could tell me about your mother.”

La Muerte thought it was quite hypocrite that he asked her to talk about her mother when he refused to talk about his own, but she was not like him in that sense. Sighing, the goddess hugged herself and rubbed her arms. “I remember she always smelled of flowers, and she’d always sing a lullaby everytime me or my little sister couldn’t sleep. Everyone loved her, she was a kind-hearted ruler and she helped all those who arrived gladly. She taught me many things, but she especially taught me about humans. She used to say that even though they were not perfect, they were perseverant and no matter how many times they fall, they always get back on their feet and keep trying.”

Xibalba wanted to counteract her words about humans, but chose against it. “What happened to her?”

“That’s another story. One day, she fell ill, and no one knew why. Months passed, she didn’t get better; it came to the point that she became bedridden. Soon it became clear that she would not live much longer; I still remember the last time I was with her. Aimé was but a few months old, and I was five centuries old….”

It had only gotten worse ever since it started. King Sol was desperate; no one had been able to help his beloved wife. She lay bedridden, her flowing dark hair spread out onto their bed, her golden eyes were still full of life but overcome by exhaustion, and she had grown thinner as time passed. She didn’t have much time left, she knew it, the last thing she wanted to do before she left this world, say goodbye to her two daughters.

Little La Muerte slowly walked into her parents’ bedchambers, and found her mother on bed, exhausted and weak, almost contrasting her usual high-spirited and strong persona that her daughter knew so well. “Mamá?” She cautiously approached the bed, still clutching her doll to her chest. Her eyes widen further as she turns to her; these past few months La Muerte tried to refute her declining state, but she can no longer deny what are now hollowing cheeks and tired eyes.

Her reaction is no surprise, as it was hard enough for King Sol to witness his queen growing sicker by the day. Gods were immortal, but there were a few things that could take their lives, though very few knew of them, notably the Candlemaker, the guardian of the Book of Life, where the stories of every single being that breathed and had a heartbeat were written.

“La Muerte…” Queen Esperanza answers.

Gingerly placing her doll on the bed, she shakily crawls up to sit before her. Moments pass as she struggles to question what she’s plagues by. “Are you… Are you getting better?”

She smiled kindly, her eyes softening apologetically. A deafening silence seeps through the air. Time screeches to a halt. The worst is far from over, but she almost wishes to prolong the bitter denial just to keep a sliver of hope. Better a sweet lie than a bitter truth.

Esperanza pursed her lips, turning her head slightly. “No, chiquita.” She says softly.

“W-When w-will you?” La Muerte asked, her voice beginning to shake. Turning back to her daughter, Esperanza gently placed a hand upon hers, feeling the tremors in her skin. “M-mam-má…” the little goddess choked before she could say anything else. Tears spilled over and turned into rivers streaming down her cheeks, feeling the warm drops on her skin. “P-lease, t-tell me p-papá was l-lying, w-wasn’t he? You-you promised me you-“

“Shhhh…” Esperanza coos, softly brushing her daughter’s cheek with her fingers. “Don’t cry…”

“He s-said y-you’re d-dying… are you r-really…” Sobs wracked her tiny frame as she cried, and her storm is very much violent. “You c-can’t die, you c-can’t! You p-promised m-me!”

“Don’t be afraid, my sweet little daughter. You’re strong, you will be okay.”

“”H-How? Wh-what if I n-never-?” she tensed, struggling not to think of what she wants to ask.

“I will always be with you. I promise.”

A gentle kiss is pressed to La Muerte’s forehead, and she visibly relaxes at her mother’s attention. Slowly her sobs turn into snivels. The doors creaked open, and the Queen’s faithful handmaiden came in, holding a small, gurgling bundle of starry blankets in her arms. Esperanza smiled as she held out her arms for her baby girl. The handmaiden approached her Queen’s bed and gently handed over the bundle to her. Esperanza removed a bit of the blankets, exposing the little head of a few months old baby girl, her hair was dark with streaks of blonde and she was shifting in her mother’s embrace, big blue eyes looking up at her.

“Mi bebé…” Esperanza smiled sadly. “My little Amy… Be a good girl, sí?”

Little Aimé didn’t understand why her mother sounded so sad, she simply let out small gurgling sounds as Esperanza planted a kiss on her forehead. A flash of gold caught the child’s attention, and soon she was fidgeting with her mother’s golden pendant, a gift from Sol for their anniversary.

“Mami…”

La Muerte snuggled against her mother’s weakening figure, sniffing and burying her face against her mother’s chest, while Esperanza pulled her closer with one arm, holding baby Aimé with the other.

“Mis niñas…” Esperanza smiled sadly at her children. “Be strong. Never forget what I’ve taught you. Treat everyone with respect and kindness, be honest and hardworking. As long as you do this, I will never leave your side, my sweet little daughters… I love you…”

Those were her last words.

“After she died, everything changed.” La Muerte’s voice was shaking, and she was trying her best not to cry. “Father became very protective of us, and he raised us to become proper ladies. I didn’t like it at first, but I didn’t want to argue with him either, so eventually I accepted it.”

Xibalba was speechless. He didn’t know what to say to that, or what to do, but the first thing he thought of was to gently grab her hand, blushing yet again as he did so. “I’m sorry…”

“It’s okay.” A few tears had gathered in the corners of her eyes, but she blinked them away.

The dark god didn’t say anything else. He tried to think on something else to talk about. “So…” damn it, he had never been good at comforting people. “You don’t like being ladylike.”

“It’s not that precisely, but… oh, who am I kidding?” La Muerte sighed, crossing her arms. “It’s very stressful, people expect too much of you and you have to be ‘perfect’ in every single thing you do.”

“You don’t need to pretend you’re perfect, my dear. Like you just said, no one is, especially me.”

“You’re not that bad. You’re strong warrior, and you’re determined, that’s something to be proud of.”

“Too bad you’re the only one who sees it that way, dear La Muerte.” Xibalba winced when he felt a sharp pain in his chest, and clutched his bandages with grit teeth. “Damn it…”

“Try not to talk much.”

“That’s going to be a problem, my dear.” When the pain flared again, Xibalba lied down back on bed and said nothing else as La Muerte continued to feed him what was left of the eggs. Once the plates were empty, the goddess pulled up the sheets to cover up the dark god.

“Is there anything else you need?” she asked gently.

“No, thank you. I’ll be fine.” Xibalba replied as gentle. “You should go take a nap, my dear. I wouldn’t like you to get sick for not getting enough rest.”

“I’m fine, Xibalba…”

“I insist. Believe me, it’s not good to stay too much hours awake, I’m not happy to say I’ve experienced it a few times before.”

La Muerte knew he was right, though she was reluctant to leave him alone. But then again he had Emilio and the others, maybe it wouldn’t hurt to take a little nap, she was quite tired. She didn’t know what came over her, but before she stood up she leaned in closer to Xibalba’s face and planted a kiss on his cheek. Xibalba froze and his pupils nearly shrunk when he felt her lips coming into contact with his tarry skin, his cheeks turning a deep shade of red.

“Have a good rest, Xibalba.” La Muerte said with a blush, walking towards the door and looking back at him one more time, before closing the door behind her.

His hand slowly found its way to his cheek, where she had kissed him. He gingerly touched the spot, still surprised by his wife’s action.  A few minutes later, a small smile drew across his features as he stared at the door.

“See you later, La Muerte…”

A few hours later, La Muerte woke up, much more refreshed, and decided to go see how Xibalba was doing, hopefully much better. It would take a few more weeks for him to completely heal, so she thought that perhaps he’d need some company, as well as a bit of help with his work, even if he refused at first. After combing her beautiful dark hair back into place, La Muerte placed her brush back on her dressing table, but as she was about to stand up she caught sight of her beautiful, jewelry box. She hesitated, but she lifted the lid and took out something from within. A beautiful golden pendant attacked to a black ribbon, which flashed gold with the light of the candles.

Queen Esperanza’s pendant.

She recalled when her father gave it to her for her quinceañera. She used it in special occasions; it felt like her mother was there with her wherever she wore it around her neck. La Muerte couldn’t resist, and she tied the pendant around her neck; everyone always said it looked beautiful on her, almost like her late mother. She touched the gold pendant sadly, before standing up and walking out of her chambers, towards Xibalba’s. But as she approached the familiar doors, she heard footsteps coming from within, out of sudden the doors flung open and Emilio rushed out, looking scared out of his wits.

“Emilio?” La Muerte inquired in confusion at seeing the lizard so nervous. “Is something wrong?”

M-My Lady!” Emilio was equally surprised to see the Goddess. “W-Well… Lord Xibalba…”

“Did something happen to him?!”

“N-No! Not at all, it’s just he… Well, for some reason we can’t explain he got high fever and…”

Gasping, La Muerte gently made her way past the lizard and ran into the room, where she found Regina fanning her master with a fan, while Luis was just placing yet another bowl with cold water on the night desk, just next to a pile of cloths. Xibalba was sweating heavily, and he was apparently having a bad dream, since he was shifting in bed despite his injuries, gritting his teeth and whispering words that made no sense.

“What’s wrong with him?!” La Muerte immediately ran to the side of bed and placed her hand on her husband’s forehead; she became alarmed at his boiling temperature.

“He developed fever, but we don’t know why.” Regina replied, as worried as her Lady. “He’s delirious right now.”

La Muerte sat down at the side of bed and grabbed a cloth to damp it in the cold water and gently wipe the sweat on Xibalba’s face. He shivered a bit, and his feathers bristled. “Could you make some peppermint tea?”

Regina thought for a moment. “I don’t remember if we have any more left…”

“Yes, we have! There’s some in one of the shelves, I can show you.” Luis retorted.

As the two lizards left, closing the doors behind them, La Muerte was left alone with her delirious husband; she continued to damp the cloths and place them on his forehead to try and lower his temperature. She was quite experienced in this, she recalled taking care of Aimé when they were young and she’d fall ill, just like their mother would have done. Like her mother used to care for her when she got ill.

Xibalba started to mumble something inaudible, trembling, his eyes closed shut. He looked like he was suffering.

“Shhh. It’s okay, I’m here…” La Muerte cooed gently.

“Mother…”

La Muerte froze when he said those words; what had he just called her? Then again, he was delirious because of the fever; he probably didn’t know what he was saying. But he sounded so melancholic.

“Mother…” Xibalba whispered once more, clutching at his blankets. “Don’t go… Don’t leave me all alone…” he was sobbing? She never thought she’d heart him sob.

La Muerte felt compassion for him, and decided to give him  a bit of comfort, at least for a while until he recovered. “Hush now, I’m not going anywhere…”

He seemed to relax a bit at the sound of her voice. Zipacna had been right when he said he had not overcome their mother’s death, judging at how he was calling out for her. La Muerte stroked his head gingerly, and thought for a moment. Maybe… perhaps she could make him feel a bit better.

Think of me, think of me fondly

When we’ve said goodbye

Remember me, once in a while

Please, promise me you’ll try

That was the lullaby her mother used to sing for her an her little sister, she remembered even after all these years, and held it close to her heart. Xibalba relaxed, and his breathing went back to normal, it seemed like her idea was working. Unconsciously, Xibalba grabbed La Muerte’s hand gently, yet tightly, like he was holding his mother’s hand. The goddess didn’t mind at all, if she could make him feel better.

And when you find that once again you long

To take your heart back and be free

If you ever find a moment

Spare a thought for me…

Chapter Text

The next day, the fever was gone, and Xibalba felt much better, even though he did not remember anything from when he was delirious, only that he heard a sweet voice like an angel’s singing to him. It didn’t take him long to figure out who had done that for him. Though his arm was still injured, he insisted that he could do his paperwork-on bed, he couldn’t stand yet-just fine, he could write. After insisting so much, Emilio complied, bringing the dark god a small pile of pending paperwork from his study, his quill with inkwell, and wooden tray for him to back his writing. Luckily, his writing hand was intact.

La Muerte watched from behind his door, only slightly open, as Xibalba wrote away on the papers, sometimes reading the contents on the sheets before signing, the only sound inside was that of the fire of the candles cackling and the tip his long black quill scratching unto the surface of the paper as Xibalba wrote. She guessed he did not like to be interrupted when working, judging by how he asked her (nicely, this time) to give him some time for himself. Not wanting to argue with him in his condition, she complied this once.

“Milady?”

La Muerte gasped silently and took a hand to her chest in surprise when she heard Regina’s voice behind her. She looked down at the lizard with a blush, letting out a sigh of dismay. “Regina, you startled me!”

“I’m sorry, milady, it’s just I saw you outside Lord Xibalba’s chambers and I assumed you got into an argue with him again.”

“Oh, no, we haven’t gotten into an argument for a while now, thankfully.” La Muerte sighed, her back now on the door.

“How’s he doing?”

“Xibalba? As grumpy as always, I suppose Emilio has told you already he wanted to advance on his paperwork, no matter how many times Emilio told him he needed to rest.”

“As a matter of fact, he has.” Regina sighed, shaking her head. “One of this days, his stubbornness is going to be the end of him.”

“Say, Regina…” La Muerte was hesitant to ask this, but nevertheless she continued. “Does Xibalba know what happened last night? When he was delirious?”

“If you’re worried that he knows he mistook you for his dearly departed mother, you can be tranquil about it, milady. We did not tell him that part, but he did recall that you sang for him, just like his mother used to do too…”

La Muerte crossed her arms sadly and glanced at Regina sadly. “He loved his mother very much, didn’t he?”

Making sure Xibalba couldn’t hear them, Regina nodded. “He adored her, as a baby he’d always cling to her, but then… our Lady Selena died out of mysterious circumstances when he was five years old. He was devastated, when she died everything changed. Even today it still hurts him, though he won’t show it.”

“I wish there was a way I could get him to open up a bit… what he does it’s not healthy.”

Regina thought for a moment. “Well, there is something we could do to cheer him up a bit for being stuck in bed. He hates being bedridden.”

“What is it?”

Warily, Regina motioned the goddess to follow her. La Muerte followed the lizard down the hall, down the stairs, and into the kitchen on the lower levels of the castle. There were various lizards there, Roberto, Lorenzo ad Emilio among them, as well as some lizards whose names she didn’t know yet.

“We’re ready to begin operation C.A.D.F.L.X!” Roberto exclaimed happily.

Emilio and the others turned to look at him. “What?!”

“Operation Cooking A Dish For Lord Xibalba!”

“A dish?” La Muerte inquired.

“Not any dish, milady. Any of these.” Emilio placed an old-looking thin book with a green leather cover on the counter. It seemed to be very old, judging by how worn the cover was, and the yellowish tone of the pages.

“Is that a cookbook?” La Muerte asked curiously. She recognized it, her mother used to have one of those.

“Eyup” Lorenzo nodded his head.

“It’s Lady Selena’s.” another lizard explained. “She used to write her secret recipes in here. She not only described how to pick the proper ingredients, she also explained the procedure in great details.”

“But the one we’re looking for is…” Regina skipped through the pages, until she found the one. “This one.”

La Muerte took a peek at the elegant handwriting. “Molten chocolate cake?”

“It’s Lord Xibalba’s favorite dessert. Lady Selena used to make it for his birthdays, I’m certain it will cheer him up.”

“The only problem, I doubt we can make it as good as she did. Her cooking was to die for.” Roberto sighed.

“Well…” La Muerte hesitated, but she managed to speak. “I could try.”

“You know how to cook, milady?” Emilio asked curiously. “I mean, it’s not that I don’t believe you, I don’t mean to intrude, but… well, I assumed your meals were cooked for you in your realm.” He grew nervous.

“Well, most of the time, yes, but…” La Muerte smiled in remembrance as she took a hand to the pendant around her neck. “My mother would sometimes get up early and cook breakfast for us, or she’d make a special dinner for us on holidays. There were times when I help her.” she giggled upon remembering the first empanadas she ever made. She was upset that they didn’t look like her mother’s, but Queen Esperanza would assure her that someday she would be a great cook. After her death, she tried to cook on her own, and even though at first she couldn’t even boil water, she eventually learned through many hardships, tears and a destroyed kitchen.

“So, what are the ingredients to this one?”

“Well, we’ll have to scavenge a few things from the pantry, but we have most of it.” Emilio stated. “Though we’ll have a bit of trouble with the chocolate…”

La Muerte took a read at the recipe, and grinned. “Let’s do this.”

Half an hour later, the once stainless kitchen was half-a-mess. Brioche molds crusted with a thin layer of bakes chocolate bread, various bowls, whisks and wooden spoons all stained with chocolate filling, flour and egg. There were eggshells on the floor, and patches of baking powder and cocoa. The oven as smoking a bit, but not too much. Heck, not even La Muerte and the lizards had been spared. The goddess had chocolate smears on her face and flour on her hair and dress, but the lizards were in a much worse state, Emilio and Roberto being nearly completely covered in flour, Lorenzo was all dirty with ash and another of the lizards named Gael had patches of whipped cream in his body. And yet, in front of them they had the fruit of their hard work after trial and error.

A bowl with molten chocolate filling, next to the chocolate cake, and some whipped cream topping.

“Well, that was exhausting.” Roberto sighed.

“Shut up, you didn’t do anything other than lick the chocolate from the bowls.” Emilio retorted, rolling his eyes.

“Well, my tongue is exhausted form all the licking!”

Regina was intact to the small battle that took place. “Now comes the hard part.”

La Muerte sighed. This recipe turned out to be more complex than the ones she was used to, but it was worth a try. Besides, if she could cheer her husband up a bit, then it was worth it, not to mention it was an excellent to pass the time down here. “What do we do next?”

The twilight sky looked beautiful with its palette of red, orange. yellow and black as the sun was going down on the horizon, the once white clouds now tinted cake purple and light yellow. The breeze of the forest was growing a bit cold, as little critters went back into their homes to spend the night, save for the creatures of the night who awakened from their diurnal slumber to begin their own day.

A girl’s laughter echoed through the forest as Xibalba led his friend through the forest. Her giggles made his heart soar and the feathers of his wings ruffle in delight, it made him know she was happy.

“Where are you taking me?” the dark-haired godling asked, looking around as the squirrels went into their dens and little birds flew back to their nests. “We’re not supposed to be out after sundown.”

Xibalba didn’t say anything; he never spoke, actually. He didn’t know why, everytime he tried to talk with her no sound would come out of his throat, making him wonder if his friend didn’t think he was mute or something. Finally, they came to the spot he was looking for, and he turned into a ball of tar to teleport behind her and cover her eyes.

“Balby?” she asked in surprise, using the nickname she used for him since she didn’t know his actual name, and he didn’t know hers either, simply thinking of her as Snow-white, referencing both the fairy tale his mother would often tell him before going to bed, and his friend’s sugar skin.

“What do you want to show me, Balby?” Snow-white asked him curiously, but he didn’t reply.

When they were in the exact spot he was looking for, Xibalba removed his hands from her eyes. Snow-white gasped in delight. He had taken her to the top of a small hill, where they could see the sunset under the awakening stars and the rising moon on the opposite horizon. “This is beautiful…”

Smiling lightly, Xibalba walked to her side and grabbed her hand reassuringly. Snow-white turned to him with a wide grin.

“Gracias, Balby.”

To his surprise and shock, her lips came into contact with his cheek. Xibalba blushed deeply and his wings flared out, his feathers bristling and his heart drumming inside his chest. He never imagines anyone would kiss him, everyone thought he was nasty because he was made out of tar, and yet she had the courage to kiss him. Then he felt Snow-white grabbing unto his arm and leaning against him, her head resting against his shoulder…  

With a snore and an irritated grunt, Xibalba awakened, his wings instinctively spreading out to extend his tense muscles, although he had to be careful with his broken wing. It took him a few minutes to realize what had happened; he was so immersed in the paperwork that he must have fallen asleep out of boredom without realizing. Damn it, this is why he hated being bedridden! Luckily, his inkwell and quill were still on place, and his papers were still in place.

He would have continued, but he wanted to relax a bit, so the dark god gently lay his head against his pillows, closing his eyes. He didn’t know why, but lately he had been dreaming with his childhood friend on a constant basis. If he was not on such a sour mood, he would have chuckled at how he used to get everytime she touched him, and how he referred to her as Snow-white. Though he didn’t understand why it was coming back to him after all these years, he wished he knew what had happened to that sweet little girl.

There was a knock on the door. Great, just what he needed. “Come in.” he said without lifting himself from bed.

Slowly, the door opened with a creak, and La Muerte peeked her head in. “Hey, Xibalba, how are you this evening?”

Sighing irritated, the dark god lifted his head slightly to look at his wife. “Well, I went to have a little stroll to Epona’s realm, and then I came back.”

“Okay, you don’t need to be sarcastic, you know.”

Xibalba nearly had a heart attack when she came in a complete mess. There was flour in her hair, her dress was stained with chocolate and there was whipped cream and egg in her face. “Que demonios?! What happened to you?! You look like you went to war!”

“Long story.”

He noticed she had her hands behind her back. “What are you hiding?”

“Regina, me and everyone prepared you something that might cheer you up.”

“Oh, you did? Please tell me you didn’t knit something, I have a whole drawer in my closet full of those.”

“Oh, no, it’s something I think you’ll like!” La Muerte brought her hands from behind her back, showing their masterpiece.

Xibalba’s eyes widened in surprise. She held a plate with a molten chocolate cake, topped with a scoop of vanilla ice cream, which in turn was topped with molten chocolate and whipped cream. Waves of memories returned to him as he stared at it, memories of…

“Y-You made that for me?” he failed to contain his surprise and bewilderment.

“We thought you’d like something sweet.”

“Judging by the mess you are in, I can guess you had trouble with it.”

“Not really.”

Xibalba sat up in bed once more, and moved some of his papers off the wooden tray so La Muerte could place the dessert on it. It did look tasty, and it had been so long since he ate one of these. He wasn’t sure if La Muerte had done it well, however, what if she had missed something and it wasn’t edible. But the look on her face, he could tell she had really worked hard on it, he didn’t want to hurt her feelings. Slowly, he grabbed the fork and carefully cut off a small slice of the ice cream-topped cake, unleashing the liquid chocolate inside it.

La Muerte watched as her husband took the small slice into his mouth and chewed. For a moment, he didn’t say anything, which made her think the dessert tasted horribly. It took a while before Xibalba gave his verdict.

“…This is the best cake I’ve ever tasted.”

SÍ! La Muerte felt like dancing of delight and joy as she saw Xibalba starting to eat the rest of the cake with a smile on his face, often licking the chocolate from his lips. Apparently it wasn’t that hard after all, she felt tempted to ask him for a bit but she didn’t want to take it away from him either.

Xibalba seemed to know what she was thinking, for he took the last piece of the cake and held it out to her. “Open wide.”

Blushing, the sugar-skinned goddess leaned in and ate the last piece of the cake. There was a party of sweetness in her mouth as the ice cream, cake and chocolate complemented each other inside. It was no wonder why Xibalba loved it so much. When she leaned closer, Xibalba noticed a flash of gold in her neck, and noticed her pendant. “Is that a new accessory, my dear?”

“It was my mother’s.” La Muerte sighed, taking her hand to the gold locket. “It’s the only memento I have of her. Father gave it to me for my quinceañera.”

“It looks beautiful on you, my dear.”

“You really think so?”

Xibalba blushed a bit. “It’s like it was made for you.” In a way, he envied her. At least she had gotten to be with her mother in her last moments while he didn’t even know how his mother died, and she had a loving father… He stopped himself from remembering him. “So, thanks for the cake.”

“It was nothing, really, though we did have a bit of difficulties…”

“Let me guess, you turned my kitchen into a battlefield, didn’t you?”

“Sort of…” La Muerte giggled in remembrance. “Emilio and the others offered to cleanup while I brought you this.”

“Say, La Muerte…” he thought for a moment, thinking thoroughly of what he wanted to do. “There’s something I’d like to show you.” When he tried to stand up from bed, La Muerte quickly reacted and prevented him from doing so.

“You can’t walk yet.”

“Come on, I’m not going to break. I’ll be fine.”

“Xibalba, your injuries-“

“I insist, my dear, nothing will happen.”

Damn it, Regina was right, one of these days his stubbornness would be the end of him! Reluctantly, La Muerte helped her husband stand up from bed. Ponzoña slithered down his hat stand and slithered towards his master, and up his cloak to wrap around his healthy arm. Xibalba gently grabbed his snake and turned him back into a staff to lean on it as he walked.

Carefully, La Muerte helped him walk out of his room, but he led the way, slowly making their way to the top level of the castle. When they climbed the final flight of stairs, they came to a long corridor that led to a single pair of black door. When they came to the doors, Xibalba placed his good arm on it with some difficulty, and muttered some words under his breath. A green energy emanated from his palm, and the markings of the door glowed green-not the usual sickly green, but rather a pretty natural green-and they opened, leading to one more flight of stairs.

“W-Where are you taking me?” La Muerte inquired, rather frightened at the darkness of the corridor.

“Trust me. Nothing will happen to you as long as you’re with me.”

Once more, La Muerte helped Xibalba up the stairs, though he leaned on his staff to help her a bit. A few seconds later, she saw a light up at the end of the stairs, when they were at the top La Muerte had to cover her eyes to protect them from the sudden light.

When her eyes adjusted to the illumination, she couldn’t believe what she was seeing.

They were in the most beautiful garden she had ever seen. To her surprise, it was illuminated with beautiful, colorful lamps that made it feel like sunlight. A white stone path led them through small patches of colorful and exotic flowers, bushes and various types of plants she had never seen, but they were all beautiful. In the middle of the garden there was a great jacaranda tree whose beautiful lavender blue petals fell to the ground. There was a beautiful bench under the shade of the tree.

“Xibalba, this is beautiful…” La Muerte gasped in awe, taking a hand to her chest.

“It was my mother’s...” Xibalba sighed sadly, La Muerte could tell it was hard for him to speak about his mother as he led her to the bench under the jacaranda tree to take a seat and rest. “This is the only place in the Land of the Forgotten that is not barren. My mother poured her heart and soul in this garden, she used to bring me here when I was sad.” Placing his staff aside, he winced at his stinging injuries. “Even after she… passed on, the garden remained intact.”

Her heart tugged in compassion for the dark god as his eyes seemed to glisten with old sorrow and pain. “Ay, Xibalba…”

“I often come here when I want to be alone, it lifts my spirits up. It’s like this garden has Mother’s presence still lingering.”

“I never thought anything could grow in this realm…”

“You’re the first foreigner that has ever seen this place.” Xibalba glanced at his wife with a small smile. “I figured you’d like to see some color, since there are no endless parties down here.”

It was La Muerte’s turn to smile at him as she placed her hand on his. “Gracias.”

He blushed when he felt her soft hand touch his larger one, it felt like it made the stinging of his wounds disappear., and he even thought his dark and shriveled heart started to beat. “You don’t need to thank me, my dear.”

Both gods had red cheeks as they glanced away from each other. Xibalba’s healthy wing was close to his body, containing the urge to wrap it around his wife’s body. When he was certain La Muerte was distracted, he glanced at her; she looked beautiful in this place, and admired her features as she stared at the scenery. Was it imagination, or did she have an uncanny resemblance to his mother…? No, it was just his imagination.

A few minutes passed before Xibalba spoke. “I think we should go back. Emilio must be freaking out about where I went.” He chuckled at the thought. That lizard was always making scandals over nothing.

“He cares about you, there’s nothing wrong with that.” La Muerte replied gently.

“It’s not that it bothers me, he has always been like a…” he stiffened for a while, before relaxing. “…like a father to me.”

La Muerte grew alarmed when he stiffened when he was about to pronounce the word ‘father’, but judging by his reaction to the word itself made her think against asking him about that. “Here, let me help you up.”

Carefully, the goddess helped her husband stand up form the bench, careful not to touch any of his bandaged injuries nor his hurt fractured wing, Xibalba leaning on his staff once more to help her a bit. He was already preparing himself for another sermon about taking care of his health, that he might be immortal but he was not invincible. They went back the way they had come, downstairs and back into his chambers, and like Xibalba expected, Emilio had been pacing for the past half hour, with Roberto calmly telling him he was exaggerating, and no sooner had they walked inside the room that the lizard assaulted him with yet another sermon.

La Muerte giggled as she helped Xibalba lay back down on bed, and watched his irritated, bored expression as he listened to Emilio’s words helplessly. After a while, however, she decided to give them some privacy and returned to her chambers. Once she rematerialized there, she spotted a blue envelope in her desk. Excited that her sister had finally answered back, she grabbed the envelope, slid out the letter and unfolded the paper to read.

Hi, big sis!

I’m sorry if I haven’t been able to write back, but Father has been wanting me to listen to the Remembered with him. It’s not that I don’t like it, it’s just that, well, I feel like he’s preparing me for something… I guess that since you married to the tar head, he thinks I’ll have to become the next ruler when he steps down, but I’m afraid of that. I was never meant to be a ruler, it’s just not my thing, I was not born for it like you, big sis.

For being sincere, I didn’t believe what you told me about Lord Xibalba in your past letters, but if you keep talking ‘wonders’ about him it must mean that maybe he does have a soft spot. But you should still be careful, he’s not precisely known for being nice to people. I hope you’re safe, Father and I miss you very much, but he’s afraid for your wellbeing too. He keeps asking Quetzalcóatl if there isn’t a way to annul your marriage to Xibalba, but it seems like there’s no way.

I hope you’re safe and sound in that place, big sis. I miss you  

Love, Amy.

La Muerte felt her eyes swelling up with tears. She missed her father and her little sister dearly… perhaps... Maybe she could ask Xibalba… she could ask him if she could go and pay them a visit. He couldn’t deny her that, after all. Right now was not the moment, however. She knew him enough to figure out he got on a terrible mood when Emilio lectured him.

Chapter Text

“Xibalba?”

“Hm?” Xibalba temporally lifted his gaze from his tray of French toast and coffee to glance at his wife, swallowing the mouthful in his mouth before speaking. “What is it?”

La Muerte couldn’t help but shiver a bit and rub her arms.  She had rehearsed the words about twenty times, and she had to grow nervous just now when she wanted to ask him. It wasn’t that hard, she told herself. She could handle it, she thought. And look at her now, she couldn’t bring herself to speak. “Well, I’d like… I would like to ask you something…”

“What?”

“It’s important to me… See…” damn it, yet another knot formed in her stomach. “I haven’t seen my sister in two months, and…”

“Just tell me you want your family to come over for a while.”

La Muerte blushed deeply. “Well… sort of.”

He seemed to be considering the idea as he took a sip from his coffee. “…Very well.”

“Come on, don’t be like-!” the goddess blinked when she processed what he had said. “What did you say?”

“You can invite them to come over, I don’t really mind.” Xibalba replied, taking another bite from the French toast.

“Are you serious?”

“I don’t have any right to cut you off from your family, my dear. I’m not that heartless, you know.” He was caught by surprise when without warning La Muerte wrapped her arms around his neck in an embrace.

“Gracias, gracias, gracias!” she was crying out happily. Soon, however, she realized what she had done and she quickly pulled back, her face all red. “I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to…”

“Don’t worry about it.” Xibalba managed to reply, blushing and his heart drumming inside his chest. After a while, he managed to calm down. “Anyway, I doubt your… family will be happy to see me at all, so I think it’ll be best I stay here.”

“Oh, no, señor. I think you’re going to have to smooth things up with my father, don’t you think?”

“What for? In case you have forgotten, Sol and I are not precisely on the best of terms.”

“Precisely because of that, I think you two should make peace if we’re family now.” La Muerte smirked. “Besides, weren’t you complaining that you were sick of being stuck on bed?”

Xibalba narrowed his eyes at his wife. “You had to bring that up just now?” Still, he knew she was right, so he had no choice to let out a sigh of defeat. “Alright, if you insist. I’ll try to be civilized, if he does.”

“Gracias.”

“Don’t thank me…” the dark god stated. He didn’t like the idea of meeting Sol face to face once again, but La Muerte looked so happy… he didn’t want to disappoint her. Besides, how bad could it be?

“How do I look?”

Xibalba sighed in annoyance and rolled his eyes. “For the tenth time, La Muerte, you are perfect. I’d thank you if you stopped worrying so much.”

“Easy for you to say!” La Muerte snapped back at him, crossing her arms. “The only thing you wear is that old armor!”

“Unlike a certain person I know, I don’t let people’s opinion get to me.”

“I’m serious, Xibalba! I have not seen my father nor my sister for weeks, I want to be lovely for them! Is that such a crime?”

“I never said it was, all I mean to say is that in the end what really matters is what you think of yourself.”

Still, Xibalba couldn’t help but take a look at his wife. She looked truly beautiful  tonight. She wore a beautiful red dress with black and golden trimming in the shape of swirls and hearts, as well as sparkling gems at the end of the skirt, v-neckline and marigolds sewn at the neckline as well. Her hair was loose and adorned with a flower near her ear. His frown softened as he placed a hand on her shoulder.

“You look beautiful, really.” He smiled, brushing a hair from her face. “I can imagine the face they’ll have when they see you.”

La Muerte blushed. “You really think so?”

“Why would I lie to you, my dear?”

Before La Muerte could reply, Emilio rushed in. “My Lord and Lady, your guests have arrived.” He bowed respectfully.

No matter how many times she told him she didn’t have to do that, it seemed like old habits died hard. Or at least he deemed it was appropriate in Xibalba’s presence.

“Thanks, Emilio.” La Muerte smiled at the lizard.

Xibalba chuckled and held out his arm. “Milady.”

La Muerte rolled her eyes with a grin, but nevertheless she grabbed unto his arm. “Milord.”

Although Xibalba had healed enough to be able to walk, he still had major injuries that were in the process of healing, mostly those in his waist and chest, so underneath the armor he still had bandages wrapped around his body. His wing bone had mostly been fixed and no longer needed the splinter, though he still couldn’t move it much yet until it was completely healed. 

Once they crossed the doorway into the main hall, La Muerte was surprised when a pair of arms wrapped around her neck into a tight hug, but soon she found herself returning the hug.

“Big sis!” Aimé had cried out in excitement as she ran to her older sister and hugged her tightly.

“Amy! I’m so glad to see you!” La Muerte replied, happily pulling her closer.

Xibalba had released his wife’s arm and stepped aside when her sister rushed forward to hug her. It was then that he felt a pair of eyes glare unto him, but he didn’t need to glance at that person to know who it was. He contained the urge to snap at Sol, he promised La Muerte he would try to get along with her father (for tonight, at least). Still, he put the feeling aside when he saw La Muerte rush towards Sol and both embraced tightly.

“My daughter, I’m so glad to see you.” Sol gently told his eldest child, planting a kiss on her forehead.

“I’ve missed you so much, Father.” La Muerte was close to tears of happiness, but she contained it for the time being.

When he was certain Xibalba was not watching, Sol whispered into his daughter’s ear. “We need to talk.”

“I welcome you to our humble abode.” Xibalba spoke, though he tried his best not to speak forcibly. “My apologies if my castle doesn’t look welcoming.”

“T-Thank you, My Lord…” Aimé couldn’t help but tremble in fear. His presence was intimidating.

“Would you mind if I gave my sister a tour around the castle?” La Muerte asked her husband.

Xibalba didn’t seem to like the idea of being left alone with his father-in-law, but he chose not to say anything. “If you wish so, my dear, it’ll be a while before dinner is ready.” Even Aimé seemed uneasy about leaving her father alone with him, but she didn’t say anything as she followed her older sister through the halls, leaving their father and Xibalba by themselves.

When he was certain his daughters were out of earshot, Sol stomped towards Xibalba with a hate-filled expression. “If I find you lay a single finger on my daughter I’ll kill you.”

“Kill me? You seem to forget in whose domain you are in, Sol.” Xibalba hissed.

“I don’t care, if you have laid a harmful hand on my daughter I’ll do anything within my power to have you executed.”

The dark god chuckled darkly. “As if. You have no idea of how many gods have tried to have me executed, and yet here I am. But like I told you once, I’m no brute. These months La Muerte has proved to be quite an accommodating, kind wife. I have nothing to complain about, maybe except the fact that at times she’s quite hot-headed.”

“Don’t you dare call my daughter like that!”

“I’m not criticizing her, Sol. The only thing I’ve noticed is that she was very restrained.”

“What do you mean to say?”

Xibalba narrowed his eyes. “Take it as you’d like, all I will tell you is that she’s a strong, confident woman that was forced into a role she never wanted to take in the first place.” He turned to leave. “Now, if you’d be so kind to wait, I have a few things to take care of.” As he walked away, he felt Sol’s drilling glare unto him.

Meanwhile, Aimé was holding tightly unto her older sister’s arms as they walked around the halls of the castle. La Muerte had already shown her the armory, the library, the courtyard, and the organ room. La Muerte wanted to show her the garden in the top of the castle, but she recalled that place was special to Xibalba, and he didn’t show it to just anyone, so she opted not to in the last moment. Finally, they decided to take a break in La Muerte’s chambers to talk a bit from sister-to-sister, just like before. La Muerte had so many questions about how things were going in the Land of the Remembered.

“Everyone misses you, big sis.” Aimé sighed sadly. “The Sánchez, in particular, they are very worried about you. They don’t know Xibalba, but they read about him in books at one time.”

“I miss them very much too.” La Muerte sighed, rubbing her forearms and looking down in yearning.

Aimé leaned against her sister and hugged her. “I’ve missed you too, Muertita.”

La Muerte giggled at the loving nickname her sister had given her when she was an infant and pulled her close. “I miss you too, Amy.”

“Has Xibalba treated you nice?”

“It may sound unbelievable, but he’s not the monster everyone thinks he is. I admit, he’s proud, irritable, bitter and has a very bad temper, but he’s also a just ruler. You may not have noticed, but his servants feel affection and respect for him, he’s quite the gentleman when he wants to be.”

“How are you certain he’s being sincere?”

“I thought about that at first, but after we’ve gone through these past months I’ve grown to see he has good in him, though he doesn’t want to admit it.” La Muerte giggled at this.

“I still don’t like him, he’s nasty. I’m still afraid that he’ll hurt you, big sis.”

La Muerte smiled at her little sister and planted a kiss on her temple. “Believe me, Amy. He’s not like you think he is at all, he’s had a difficult life…” she stopped in mid-sentence.

“What do you mean?”

“It’s… nothing.” The older goddess felt she had no right about Xibalba’s life just like that, if he was reluctant to even tell her about his own mother she didn’t want to betray his trust after working so much to gain it bit by bit, at least.

Aimé noticed this, and thankfully chose to change the topic. “He really gave you a horse as a wedding gift?”

“Yes. It was very sweet of him, though I admit, horse riding is not as easy as it seems.”

“If daddy heard about what happened he’d lynch your husband.”

Both sisters giggled. Just then, there was a knock at the door, and Emilio poked inside. Immediately, Aimé gave a small cry of fright at the lizard and embraced her sister for ‘protection’. Emilio was equally startled and he hid behind the door. La Muerte couldn’t help but giggle at what just happened.

“Don’t worry, Amy, that’s just Emilio. He’s one of Xibalba’s servants.”

“You didn’t mention he was a lizard, sis!” Aimé had never been fond of reptiles, snakes and lizards in particular, which explained her aversion to Xibalba, considering he was her polar opposite in that sense.

“My apologies, señorita.” Emilio apologized from behind the door to avoid making her uncomfortable. “I just came to tell you that dinner is ready.”

“Gracias, Emilio.” La Muerte smiled at him, even though she could not see him, before glancing at her sister. “We better go down before Father and Xibalba kill each other.”

Aimé nodded. “I wouldn’t like to imagine it.”

To say dinner was awkward would have been an understatement. Thankfully, though, it was peaceful. Xibalba noted how his wife’s family was not familiarized with European cuisine, not unlike La Muerte during the first days she lived here. Technically, Sol seemed to be the only one who had an idea about the dishes, while Aimé was more interested in keeping her hands away from his servants’ as they either changed the dishes, or served more wine. The smell of the food gave the gods an air of calm, especially form the roast pig and swan (he had nearly burst out laughing upon seeing Aime’s face when she saw the stuffed swan on the table).

Xibalba spent most of the dinner concentrated on eating his cheese ravioli, while he heard La Muerte chatting casually with her father about what she had been doing these past months. A part of him felt warmth that she spoke quite fondly of him.

“So, he gave you a horse…” Sol said, placing his fork down and resting his chin on his hand, glancing at Xibalba with acidic eyes.

“He even taught me how to ride.” La Muerte confirmed, though she chose to omit the part where they made a wager and she was knocked off the horse. It would give her father a heart attack, probably. “He even introduced me to Lady Epona.”

“Epona?” Aimé gasped. “The mistress of horses?”

“Yes.”

Xibalba noted there was some dread in Aimé’s voice when she mentioned Epona’s name, and he couldn’t help but ask. “You don’t seem to like the idea of meeting my dear friend face-to-face, cuñadita.” He smirked internally when Sol’s eyes flared up when he referred to Aimé like that.

“W-Well, I’ve heard from the other goddesses that she is a very amoral, lustful woman.” Aimé replied nervously, fidgeting with the peas in her plate as she felt Xibalba’s skull eyes bore unto her.

“That’s a bunch of lies, you won’t find a purest woman in the thirteen realms.”

“I agree, she didn’t seem bad to me.” La Muerte added. “She was nice, and she invited us to have tea with her.” She giggled at the memory. “She even told me about Samhain, did you know that celebration is similar to Day of the Dead?”

Immediately, Sol stabbed his cork on his meat. He had tried so much to keep his daughters from knowing about pagan celebrations and deities, but now thanks to her… husband, all his efforts had been in vain.

“Would you mind if I talked with my daughter, alone?” Sol managed to speak without growling.

Xibalba had an idea to what Sol was going to discuss with his wife. “You don’t need to ask me, Sol. She’s your child, after all.” He simply said, wiping his sauce-smudged lips with a napkin.

La Muerte had a bad feeling about this, especially when she noticed how serious her father looked. Still, she stood up form her seat and followed her father out of the dining hall, into one of the many rooms nearby, while Aimé was left alone with Xibalba, much to her dismay. Sol closed the door shut behind him, and immediately started checking on his daughter.

“Father…?” La Muerte didn’t understand what her father was doing.

“Now that we’re alone you can tell me. Has that monster touched you?” Sol asked her in alarm, taking his eldest daughter by the shoulders and looking into her eyes with a worried expression.

“N-No, Father, Xibalba has not laid a finger on me.”

“You don’t have to cover him, my child, just tell me.”

“Really, daddy, he has not touched me. I would have never allowed him to do so if he tried.”

“Does he have you threatened?”

“What?!” La Muerte stepped away from her father with a look of utter of disbelief. “How can you say that?!”

“I know you are strong, La Muerte, but I know Xibalba. He probably has threatened to hurt Aimé or me to keep you from saying whatever he does to you-“

“You’re wrong! He has not threatened me in any way, he has actually been very nice to me.”

“Nice?” Sol couldn’t believe what he was hearing. “La Muerte, it’s Lord Xibalba we’re talking about! He’s not nice! He’s cruel, lying, temperamental and self-centered, he cares for no one but himself!”

“Then you don’t truly know him, Father.” La Muerte frowned, crossing her arms and turning her back on her father, incensed. “He’s gone through so much, but he’s still strong, loyal, perseverant and a just leader! I didn’t like him at first, but once I got to know him I realized he was not the person everyone thinks!”

“I see he has somehow fooled you, my child.” Sol sighed sadly. “Otherwise you would have never defended him like this.”

La Muerte didn’t back down, nor turned to see her father. “Didn’t you teach me that you shouldn’t judge the book by its cover? Mother taught me that the coldest heart can be melted with love!”

Sol’s eyes snapped open as he stepped back in shock and bewilderment. “You…. You say you love him?!”

“What?! N-No, but I… We’re friends, that’s all! He has shown me a side of him that I’ve come to appreciate!” Still, she couldn’t do anything as her cheeks flared red, looking down at her feet while feeling her father’s gaze of disbelief unto her. After what seemed like hours, she heard a sigh escaping from Sol’s lips as she felt him embrace her.

“I’m sorry if I’m so insistent, hija mía, I just don’t want you to get hurt. I promised your mother I’d always protect you and your sister.”

La Muerte’s eyes nearly swelled up with tears as she took her hand to her mother’s pendant in remembrance. She was certain she would have given Xibalba a chance. A part of her wanted to tell her father the truth, what Xibalba had gone through, but again she did not want to betray her husband’s trust. “Trust me, daddy. Xibalba has not hurt me, he has not laid a finger on me, he has not even touched me.”

Reluctantly, Sol released his daughter. “Very well, La Muerte. If you insist he has not hurt you in any way, I believe you. But promise me that if he ever does something to you, you will tell me.”

“I promise you, Father.”

After her family returned to the Land of the Remembered (she nearly burst out in tears in saying goodbye to Aimé), La Muerte couldn’t help but feel a bit conflicted. Unfortunately, it seemed she was not very good at dissimulating it, that or Xibalba had some sort of radar for these kind of things.

“Is something bothering you, my dear?” he inquired, sitting down next to her in bed.

“It’s nothing…” La Muerte replied quickly, looking away. She grew nervous when he gently grabbed her chin with his fingers and turned her head back carefully, lifting her chin so he could gaze into her eyes. “I don’t think you’ll like to hear…”

“I don’t need to be an expert to guess it has something to do with your father, right?”

“He was worried about me…”

“Let me guess, he thinks I threatened you or something, right?”

La Muerte felt a churn at her stomach. “How did you…?”

Xibalba sighed and crossed his arms, looking down in discomfort. “I’ve been disliked and feared long enough to know when people talk behind my back. That, and it’s painfully obvious that your father hates my guts.”

“It wouldn’t have been just you, it would have been anyone I married.”

“But considering the circumstances under which we married…” he was reluctant to remind her of it. La Muerte shifted in discomfort, just like he assumed she would. Panicking, he tried to think of another topic. “So… did you enjoy seeing your family?”

“You have no idea, I missed them very much. I’m glad they’re doing okay, especially Amy.”

She was smiling. Somehow it made his heart drum inside his chest everytime he saw her smile; he had never noticed, but she looked prettier when she smiled, and he absolutely liked her laugh… wait, what?! The dark god quickly shook his head mentally to try and get those thoughts out of his head, though it was clear it would not be so easy. Xibalba grew surprised when La Muerte leaned against his arm and rested her head against his shoulder.

“Gracias, Xibalba… Really, this meant a lot to me…” she whispered, her eyelids dreamily closed as she grabbed his hand.

Once again, Xibalba’s cheeks flared red when he felt La Muerte’s body against his, but she looked so happy he didn’t have the heart to push her away. Instead, he smiled lightly and pulled her close with his arm, wrapping his wing around her in an almost protective way, like he did not want to share her with another.

“You’re welcome.”

Chapter Text

A few days later, La Muerte decided to take a look at the wine cellar (she wasn’t surprised Xibalba had one, the dark god was very fond of wines), and found it was very big. There were various types of wines stored in there, all of them in elegant bottles and carefully accommodated in alphabetical order, and by color. Lorenzo was making her some company, since the other lizards were busy doing other chores, though all of La Muerte’s efforts to make him speak up to now had been fruitless. HE was a good guy, but she couldn’t tell what he was thinking.

“I’ve never been in a wine cellar before.” La Muerte stated, running a hand over the branded bottles.

“Nope?” Lorenzo inquired.

“My father has never liked that Aimé or I drink too much wine. He says it’s not lady-like, can you believe it?”

Lorenzo thought for a moment, then shrugged. “Eyup.”

La Muerte sighed internally when he simply replied with one word, as usual. Still, she continued examining the bottles curiously, seeking to learn all she could from the years they were made and calculating how many years they had been kept. She had to admit, wine intrigued her to some extent, all that process to make a single drink. It had to be the most sophisticated drink in the whole world, after champagne, of course.

“You’ve lost your touch in taking me by surprise, you know.

Lorenzo had no idea who she was talking who, but soon he understood the comment when he heard his master’s low chuckle. “I didn’t mean to, my dear. If I wanted to take you by surprise, you wouldn’t have even felt me coming.” Xibalba retorted, approaching his wife from behind and staring at the wine shelves she was looking at. “I see you’re very interested in the rosé wine.”

“It’s my favorite. And yours?”

“I drink of all sorts, but my personal favorite is red wine.”

“You only like wine?”

“Most of the time, but I do enjoy a glass of champagne or tequila every now and then. How about you?”

“Well, my father says alcoholic beverages are much better at special occasions, but even then one shouldn’t overdrink.”

Xibalba sighed, partly irritated at the mention of Sol. “For once, I agree with your dear father. Wine is an elegant, sophisticated drink but even it can drive people mad if abused. I’m not happy to say I’ve done quite… reckless things under its effects.”

La Muerte glanced at him. “Define reckless.”

“I’d rather not, if you don’t mind.” He took out one of the bottles and examined it. “1683. Bad harvest.” He glanced at La Muerte. “Have you ever tasted wine?”

“Not that way.” La Muerte grew nervous when he grinned. “Why?”

Xibalba placed the bottle back on its rack and motioned her to follow him, leading her to a small oak table with two chairs, where he pulled back a hair for her to sit down before heading to one of the racks of wine to look for a suitable bottle for her. After searching through the shelves thoroughly he finally found an appropriate brand, a dry rosé wine. Grabbing two glasses as well, he went back to the table and placed the bottle and the glasses on top of it. La Muerte took a look at the brand.

“Sabor a Rosas?”

“It’s one of the lightest I have, I guess it would be perfect for starters. Besides, the last thing I need is that you get drunk.”

La Muerte blushed. “I’ve never gotten drunk before.”

“That’s more of a reason I should be careful in which things I give you to drink, my dear.” Xibalba prepared to open the bottle. “Get close when I open the bottle and take a sniff.”

“A sniff?”

“The preliminary sniff, it’s a good time so later you can compare its fragrance.”

La Muerte didn’t like the idea of sniffing but a bottle, but nevertheless when Xibalba uncorked the bottle she leaned her nose closer and took a sniff. She quickly pulled back and took a hand to her nose when a smell of fire invaded her nostrils. “It smells like it’s burnt.”

“It’s normal. It should fade in a few minutes, I just opened the bottle, remember? It needs to take a breath after being in there for years.” Xibalba filled the glasses to a quarter, then he placed the bottle aside for the time being and handed one of the glasses to La Muerte. “Check the colors, I’ll be easier if you tilt it by the light. It should not be murky or cloudy.”

She obeyed, and distinguished a deep pink tonality in the drink, or maybe briht red copper. It glistened beautifully in the white light. “What’s next?”

“Swirl it like this.” Xibalba gently swirled the wine in his glass, and La Muerte could notice the liquid sliding down the glass rather quickly. “It lets oxygen in and helps the aromas open up, and you can check on the viscosity.”

“Let me guess, I’m supposed to sniff it again?”

“You guessed.”

Sighing, La Muerte swirled the wine in her own glass, and at closer look she saw that the pinkish liquid was taking about two seconds to roll down the glass again, meaning it was not that thick. Once more she neared her nose to the edge of the glass, and a few seconds later she dove it a few inches into it, not too much. A pleasant smell overcame her. “It smells like fruits.”

“It’s Sangiovese rosé wine, it’s mostly fruity. Its main ingredients are fresh strawberries, green melon and yellow peach with a touch of roses, complimented with mouth quenching acidity.” Xibalba stated. Staring at the wine in his glass.

“How did you…?” she couldn’t believe he was able to tell what this drink contained if he didn’t even smell it.

“Let’s say I have a gift for these kind of things. Like I told you, I’m very fond of wine.” He held up his glass. “Now comes the best part, my dear.” He grinned, taking a sip from his drink.

The goddess took a sip from the wine, but her tongue burned at the dry taste of the liquid, but she didn’t have time to react and it went down her throat, leaving a burning sensation. She grew angry when Xibalba started to laugh. “What’s so funny?!”

“The look on your face-!” Xibalba tried to contain his laughter with little effort. “Really, preciosa, I’ve seen people reacting badly to their first tasting, but never one like you!” His humor disappeared when La Muerte grabbed the bottle and poured herself a bit more, taking it in one gulp; her features were twisted by the sour flavor, but she served himself another glass. “What are you doing?”

“Showing you I can drink like anyone else.” Was all she said, taking another gulp-small, this time- and her palate was starting to get used to the flavor.

“I don’t think that’ a good idea, my dear-“

“Don’t underestimate me.” Despite her husband’s protests, she continued to drink the bottle of wine. It couldn’t be that bad.

How right he was.

Five minutes later, La Muerte had drunk the whole bottle, and was giggling hysterically speaking incoherencies that sent shivers down his spine. Heck, even Lorenzo was subtly freaked out by how different she was from that kind, sweet goddess when drunk.

“I have to ‘hick’ admit, Xibalba. This was ‘hick’ not so bad as I ‘hick’ thought.” La Muerte laughed, her face all red and her eyes disorientated for the time being.

“La Muerte, I think that’s enough drinking for one night.” Xibalba was quick to take the bottle away from his wife’s grasp before she could take another gulp.

“Oh, come ooooon, ‘hick Xibalba, don’t be a party pooopeeeer ‘hick’.” She tried to take the empty bottle back from her husband, but he barely manage to keep her away.

“That’s enough, mujer!” Xibalba snapped at her, snapping his fingers and making the bottle disappear. He glanced at Lorenzo to find some sort of support. “Lorenzo, do something!”

The lizard shrugged.

“I don’t know! Anything!”

“Don’t’ be ‘hick’ like that, Xibalba…” La Muerte leaned against him and ran her fingers up his chest with a goofy but seductive grin. “Pleeeease?”

Although he blushed at her contact, he decided he had had enough. “That’s it, mujer!· he picked her up bridal style and held her tightly against his chest, making her let out a cry of surprise. “You’re grounded!”

“You ‘hick’ can’t ground meee! You’re not my ‘hick’ daddy!” La Muerte protested

“Maybe, but I’m still your husband.”

“It doesn’t count!”

“It does for me.”

He didn’t say anything else as he carried his wife out of the wine cellar. La Muerte pouted and crossed her arms, still hiccupping. After a while he walked into La Muerte’s chambers and closed the door behind him, then headed for the bed to lay her down; but as he lay her down on bed he was caught off guard when suddenly she pulled him down and kissed him; though he liked it to some extent, he pulled back and stared down at her with wide eyes. “What was that for?”

“Ay, Xibalba, you ‘hick’ didn’t stop saying ‘hick’ you wanted to ‘hick’ taste me as a woman!” La Muerte giggled childishly, before pulling him down by the beard and giving him a seductive grin. “Well, let’s do this.”

Once more he was pulled into a clumsy but passionate kiss; Xibalba was torn on what to do, but once he tasted her cherry-flavored lips he could not resist, and he returned the kiss. Finally, this was the chance he wad been waiting, he would finally make her his, and only his. He felt her hands run down his neck and her legs wrapping around his waist clumsily to pull him closer. Tired of the lips, he opened her mouth and introduced his tongue into it, tasting her palate and intertwining his tongue with hers. She was so sweet, she was not made of sugar for nothing.

His hands ran through her hair as his nose took in her smell of marigolds and sugar, but as he was about to undress her, suddenly something came over him when La Muerte let out a whimper, perhaps an unconscious reaction from her rational side overcome by the effects of the alcohol. She was not herself, this was not the La Muerte he wanted. Once he was knocked out of his dazzled trance he immediately pulled back form La Muerte’s drunken form.

“Xibalba…?” she asked him, apparently hurt that he pulled back, but she could do nothing as he touched her forehead, and everything went black.

Once he was certain she was asleep, Xibalba tenderly accommodated her in bed and pulled the sheets over her, making sure she was warm enough. She would wake up with a splitting migraine, and hopefully she would not remember what transpired tonight. Still, now that she was asleep, he could examine her closer. Truly she was beautiful, the most beautiful woman he ever met, but she was also the purest he ever met. Epona forgive him, but not even she could hold a candle to the purity of this goddess he was proud to call his wife.

Tentatively, he removed one of his gloves to stroke her cheek and feel her warmth. La Muerte stirred unconsciously when she felt his bony hand touching her, making him pull it back, startled. When he was certain she wasn’t stirring awake, he brushed a few hairs from her face and caressed her head tenderly, his heart beating like mad. He didn’t know why, but just being with her made him feel… happy. Sure, she often drove him mad with her temper and stubbornness (though he couldn’t blame her for the last one, he was quite stubborn too), but she also made him laugh, she comforted him.

Maybe it wouldn’t hurt… in case if she needed something. He would make sure to wake up before she did so she wouldn’t notice.  Silently, Xibalba lay down next to La Muerte and wrapped his arms around her, pulling her close in an embrace, then he covered her with his wing. Once more, La Muerte stirred when she felt his touch, but this time she unconsciously shifted closer to him, snuggling into his warmth. Xibalba blushed deeply, but he remained silent.

Now it would be best to go to sleep.

The first thing she felt when she woke up was a splitting migraine, so the first thing she did when she regained awareness was to cocoon herself into her blankets. She couldn’t recall what happened last night; the last thing she remembered was tasting some wine with Xibalba… everything after that was a blur. For a few minutes, she just stayed in there, she didn’t have the strength to move. Wherever she tried to peek outside her cocoon everything would be too bright (ironical, since this place didn’t have much lighting) and she’d retreat back into her sanctuary. She did manage to see a glass of water on the nightstand.

Her throat was very dry. Tentatively, she reached out her hand and started looking blindly for the glass with her touch. When she managed to grasp the glass, she brought it into her small sanctuary and drank little by little, refreshing her throat and tongue, though her headache was still there. She didn’t know how much time passed, to her it felt like hours, but suddenly her stomach churned inside her and she felt like last night’s contents wanted to come out. Immediately, she turned into a trail of marigold petals and dashed towards her bathroom, her toilet specifically, just as she felt the burning sensation of vomit coming up her throat and being expelled through her mouth, into the toilet. When everything was out she was left with an stomachache to make her feel worse; La Muerte barely managed to stand up and flush the toilet before it started to stink. Her legs wobbled as she made her way back to bed and lay down.

She covered her ears when the door creaked open-her migraine made all sounds louder tenfold, no matter how faint they were-and her still blurry vision managed to make out a dark shape approaching her.

“You’re awake.” Xibalba spoke as lowly as he could, knowing she probably had a headache right now.

“Would you stop yelling?!” La Muerte retorted, flinching.

Eyup. Just like he guessed. “I’m not yelling, my dear. You’re in the middle of a hangover.”

La Muerte noticed he was holding a cup of tea in his hands. “What’s that?”

He sat down at the edge of her bed and handed her the cup. “It’s for your migraine. Be careful, it’s hot.”

The goddess accepted the cup and took a small sip. Somehow the scent of the herbs it was made of made her muscles relax, and diminished her migraine to some extent. But she still had questions that needed to be answered. “What happened?”

“Let’s say your first tasting went a little too far.” Xibalba chuckled, but flinched when his wife frowned at him.

“I don’t find it any funny!”

“I’m sorry, my dear, but I have to admit I never thought you could get that crazy when you got drunk. Heck, you even freaked Lorenzo out, and that’s something very hard to do.”

“Oh, cielos.” La Muerte groaned, still drinking from her tea. “When Father finds out about this he’ll kill me.”

“Come on, La Muerte, you didn’t kill anyone, you just got drunk. It happens to everyone at least once.”

“I know, it’s just… Well, I don’t like the idea of getting drunk like that, it’s not right.”

“Nobody’s perfect, La Muerte. Not even such a good person as you.” The two remained silent for a few moments, before he spoke again. “Are you hungry?”

“Sort of, but I threw up a few minutes ago and I wouldn’t like to do it again.”

“Don’t worry about that. That tea is also for your stomach, you should have no problem after all.” The dark god stood up. “I’ll go get you breakfast.” As he was about to walk away, something clicked in his mind. “Oh, before I forget…” Xibalba slid a blue envelope from his chest armor, and held it out for La Muerte. “A letter arrived for you a few hours earlier. I think it’s from your sister.”

La Muerte accepted the envelope. “Gracias.” As her husband left the room and closed the door silently, La Muerte opened the envelope and slid out the letter to read.

Big sis  

Thanks for writing as soon as you could, I love reading your letters. I even have them stacked in my nightstand. Anyway, Father has been rather grim these days, I think that seeing you made him miss you even more than before. I even overheard him talking with Lord Tezcatlipoca, he is still asking if there’s no way to annul your marriage with Xibalba, no matter how many times he is told it can’t be done, that he should know better than anyone that marriage between gods is lifelong. He is convinced that Xibalba is a brute and that he mistreats you, but if you tell me he hasn’t even laid his finger on you, I do believe you, Muertita.

By the way, I asked the Candlemaker about what you told me. But it’s bad news, he says he cannot speak about other gods’ pasts just like that without their permission. He couldn’t tell me anyone about Xibalba’s parents, the only thing he could tell me was that he has had a difficult life, that’s why he is the way he is now. I think the Candlemaker is the only one other than you that doesn’t think Xibalba is a heartless monster, he sounded like he felt sorry for him. I also learned Epona is not the only European god your husband is acquainted with, he has connections with the Egyptian, Norse and Japanese gods as well. I bet you didn’t expect that  

Anyway, have fun down there, or find a way to have fun, at least.

Amy.

La Muerte let out a disappointed sigh, but she still smiled at her little sister’s concern. Not even the Candlemaker could tell her about Xibalba’s parents, but she was glad that at least she learned he didn’t hold the dark god in a negative light like most of the other gods. And she never imagined Xibalba had so many contacts in the European pantheons, it seemed he wasn’t as antisocial as she thought either. She was brought out of her thoughts when she felt something under her body. Shifting uncomfortably, La Muerte searched beneath the blankets and felt a ticklish sensation as she found the object stuck underneath. As she took it out, her eyes widened.

It was a black, burnt feather.

 Her heart skipped a beat. How had it gotten here? She only knew of one person who had feathers like this. Could it be possible? Had he dared…? But she didn’t feel any changes in her womb nor her vagina, she sensed she was still a virgin. Then what had transpired last night that Xibalba’s feather was just in her bed? The door creaked open, and once again Xibalba walked in, this time carrying a tray of food. He noticed the black feather his wife was examining in her hand, and flinched internally when she glared at him.

“Would you mind to explain to me what is your feather doing in my bed?” she hissed.

“It’s not what you have in mind, my dear.” Xibalba managed to reply, warily going closer to bed. “You got so crazy last night that I had to put you to sleep with a spell, and I thought I should stay with you in case you woke up. Like I told you before, my dear La Muerte, even I have my principles. I’m not the kind of man to take advantage of a woman in her weakest.”

The embers of her wrath extinguished. At least he hadn’t tried to look for an excuse not to try to change the subject, it meant that he had been sincere. She didn’t say anything else as Xibalba sat down in the edge of bed and carefully placed the tray unto her lap. An omelet with mushrooms and cheese, some bacon and a glass of orange juice. It looked delicious. Xibalba cut off a slice of bacon and held it up a few inches away from his wife’s lips. “Open wide!”

La Muerte rolled her eyes with a small smile as she accepted the mouthful of bacon. There was a party of flavor in her mouth as she chewed and swallowed. “Gracias.”

Xibalba returned the smile. “De nada.” He cut a slice off the omelet and held it up to his wife’s lips once more. “Don’t forget to chew before you swallow.”

Chapter Text

A few hours later, La Muerte was strong enough to walk again. Xibalba thought he should make up for accidentally getting her drunk, and he did so by taking her out for a ride, to one quiet little place in Epona’s realm-it turned out that his long-lasting friendship with the Mistress of Steeds gave him a few privileges, including free entry into her realm-, a beautiful clearing by a small waterfall surrounded by beautiful trees. It was the beginning of winter, so all the terrain was covered with a thin layer of snow, and most of the trees had no leaves. The two gods had lay down a blanket under a tree to sit down beneath its shade, and enjoyed the brunch they had brought over, while their horses stood a few steps away, the reins tied to a tree branch to keep them from wandering away.

There was something she had been wanting to ask Xibalba for some time now, and for once it didn’t have to do with his family or his past, it at all. She had agreed to marry him in order to prevent her father from handing over the right to rule the Land of the Remembered because of a wager, but… what had been the wager about? She didn’t have the chance to ask her father on his last visit, but she doubted he’d want to tell her. She just hoped Xibalba would not be so secretive about it, if she had married because of the wager then she had the right to know what it was about. 

“Xibalba?”

He swallowed the mouthful of devil’s food cake with vanilla icing before speaking. “What is it?”

“There’s something that I’d like to ask you, don’t worry, it’s not personal.”

“What would you like to ask?”

“I know you and my father made a wager and you won, but… what was it about?”

He froze when he was about to grab his cup of tea. Damn it, why did the woman have to ask the least opportune questions?! “Why do you want to know?”

La Muerte crossed her arms with a frown. “Well, since I married you because of that wager, I might as well have the right to know what it was about, don’t you think?”

Xibalba sighed in defeat. “Alright, my dear, I guess you have made a good point there.” He shifted his wings and wrapped them around his body in discomfort. “First of all, you do know the basics of a wager between gods, don’t you?”

“Why wouldn’t I? I’ve made a few bets myself.” La Muerte replied, hugging her knees to protect herself from the cold.

“But wagers made by the ancient rules are different from regular bets. If you don’t fulfill your part if you were to lose, you would be severely punished. I think you already know this, but I’ve had my eye on the Land of the Remembered for a long time…” he flinched when his wife grunted at the comment. “What?! My realm can be very boring at times, but I think you already know that.”

“That still doesn’t give you the right to try and steal a kingdom from its rightful ruler.” La Muerte growled.

“Steal? No, no, Sol wagered the control of his realm, and I won fair and square. That’s not stealing.” His annoyed look softened when he went chose to get back to the main topic. “Anyway, we were one night on the outskirts of a small town…”

The sky was painted with millions of beautiful stars, and the full moon was sharing its radiant light with both creatures of the night and creatures of the day, even though humans were already going into their homes. These days, most of the towns had a curfew at about ten o’ clock, and after that hour there was not a single person on the streets due to one of the old legends of that place. There was one single person on the main plaza, standing as if nothing happened. He was a fine man in about his fifties wearing a copper red suit like those worn by the hacendados, his dark hair was combed backwards without a single loose strand of hair. Amber eyes were looking across the empty, dark street only illuminated by the dim laps on the sides.

Sol felt sorry that he could not help these humans. He knew that the cries, and mournful cries of ‘La Llorona’ were nothing more than tricks, tapes and recordings used by pranksters just to ‘have fun’. He didn’t like that one of Mexico’s oldest legends was being used as a ruse by humans, but gods were not allowed to interfere with human affairs. The true Llorona would not be pleased, if she ever passed around here. There was the sound of a horse’s hooves clip-clopping on the stone street, getting louder from behind him. Sol was not startled on the least, however.

“I see you still come here, Sol.” A voice, cold like the coldest winter spoke behind Sol.

The disguised god turned around with a stoic expression to find a cloaked figure atop a mighty and elegant Friesian steed, with both his dark gloved hands holding the reins tightly. His clothing was all black, looking almost like a bandido’s, but elegant. This new figure had an imposing air of confidence, elegance and strength that would send shivers through even the bravest of humans. Sol could barely make out his face because of his cloak’s hood, and the black scarf that covered his mouth and nose, concealing most of his face from view. Still, Sol didn’t need to see him to know who he was.

“Lord Xibalba.” He nodded respectfully. He didn’t like the dark god, but he was an Ancient God, and it would be better not to make him angry.

“King Sol.” Xibalba spoke through his scarf, taking his hand to his chest and nodding his head. Even his mount gave Sol a bow, though this was nothing more than a formal thing. Medianoche was such a smart horse, after all. “May I inquire to what are you doing here at these hours?”

“With all due respect, My Lord, that is none of your business.”

Xibalba chuckled darkly and pulled back his hood, revealing blood red eyes and combed white hair, though it was wilder and had some loose strands. “You should watch your words, Sol.” Then he pulled down his scarf, revealing his curly white moustaches and beard-even in human disguise they stayed the same. He was quite handsome in this glamour. “I’m not very patient.”

“I’m well aware of that, My Lord. I was merely taking a look at the town.”

“Is that so?” Xibalba raised a snow-white eyebrow and smirked, circling around him on his horse. “What a coincidence, I was taking a look around too. Things are quite boring tonight, I guess those pranksters were not in the mood to scare the heck out of the other villagers. What a pity, I was hoping I could have some fun tonight.”

“There are other ways to entertain oneself without tormenting humans.”

“Maybe, but my favorite pastime is to make them as miserable as possible.”

“I do not understand your dislike of humankind, My Lord.”

“They are corrupted, untrustworthy and despicable creatures that don’t even deserve pity.”

“They have their defects, that is true, but their hearts are pure and true, they are loyal with each other and their family bonds are stronger than anything else.”

“Please. They backstab each other for power and wealth, that’s how it’s always been and it will remain like that.” Xibalba chuckled. “But if you’re so sure about what you say, how about we make a little wager?”

“A wager, you say?” Sol inquired, stroking his chin in thought. “What do you have in mind?”

Still smirking, Xibalba pulled the reins of his horse and turned around, motioning Sol to follow him. They advanced down the street and came to a stop in front of a great mansion, belonging to one of the hacendados of the place, and where apparently there was a party taking place. Xibalba pointed at a young man in the flower of youth just sitting outside, apparently for a hint of peace.

“See that human over there?” Xibalba said, pointing at the young man. “He’s supposedly engaged to a ‘lovely’ young woman, the daughter of his father’s associate, and they intend to have their children married to merge their haciendas together.”

Sol nodded. “Sounds interesting, but what does it have to do with our wager if I may know?”

“I wager he will be unfaithful to his fiancée, and in less than forty eight hours he will be in the arms of another woman.”

“I see…” Sol didn’t understand why Xibalba had such a jaded view on love. “I bet he will never set his eyes on another woman, and he will happily marry to his fiancée.”

“Good. If I win…” Xibalba stroked his beard, pretending to think on what he wanted if he emerged victorious. “I will rule the Land of the Remembered.”

Naturally, Sol’s eyes widened in shock. Soon he regained his composure and stoic expression, however, “What you ask of me is something I cannot give you.”

“Come on, Sol. If you’re so certain the human will remain faithful to his ‘beloved’ you have nothing to fear, do you?”

“My kingdom is too much previous to me to simply wager it away like that. I doubt you have something as equally valuable as that.”

“Oh, Sol, I have many things I have to offer you I assure you are as much or even more valuable than your kingdom.” Xibalba unsheathed his sword and held it out for Sol to see. The god recognized it.

“Your sword?”

“The Sword of Seven Sins. Judging by your reaction I can see you have heard of its reputation, haven’t you?” Xibalba temporally left the reins of his steed and ran a finger down the blade of his weapon, his eyes and his voice showing nothing but pride for his sword. “I forged it, so it’s customized. I can kill anything, it will never rust and there are so many other secrets in this beauty that I would never finish listing them down.”

“What kind of secrets?”

“That’s up to you to find out. If you win, that is.”

Sol thought for a moment, he had to think this thoroughly, there was so much in risk. He did know the reputation of Xibalba’s sword, it was one of the finest and most powerful weapons ever created, any god would give anything to possess it, but Xibalba would never trade it for anything in the world… but then why was he wagering it just like that? He had to admit, the idea of possessing the Sword of Seven Sins was a tempting idea, but at the same time he wouldn’t be able to part with the Land of the Remembered should he lose. His daughters were born there, his wife died there, it had so many memories… But then, he had never lost a wager before, why would it be different this time?

“Do we have a deal, Sol?” Xibalba smirked, tucking his sword back into its sheath and holding out his hand for the king to shake.

“…Very well.” Sol complied, stretching out his hand to take the dark god’s.

“By the Ancient Rules…” Xibalba spoke with a taunting grin as they shook their hands. “The wager is set.” A thunder clapped in the sky, as if reacting to the gods’ bet, and soon the rain would follow suit. “We shall meet again in forty eight hours to see what the human did, if he was faithful to his supposed fiancée, or if he went to find comfort in another woman’s arms.”

“As you wish, My Lord. But I can assure you, the human will have eyes for no other.”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever you say. Now, if you’ll excuse me…” Xibalba concealed his face with his scarf and pulled up his hood once more to hide his identity, grabbing the reins of his horse once again. “I have to be somewhere else, tormenting mortals.” He turned his steed around and cantered away, the sound of pounding hooves echoing in the dark of the night.

La Muerte hung to her husband’s every word. “You bet that the human would be unfaithful to his fiancée?” she inquired, shifting and taking a bite from a slice of cheesecake.

Xibalba nodded, taking a sip from his wine and examining the red liquid in the glass. “I know mortals, there’s no such thing as true love among them. Even if they do marry, in a few years it withers away and they go their separate ways. Most of them don’t marry for love these days, but for some deal made by their parents, financial, economical and so on. I had a feeling this was the case with the human, and it wouldn’t be long before he went to find comfort on someone else.”

“What happened next?”

“After the forty eight hours passed, we met again on top of the church where the wedding was taking place. Sol was already thinking he won, but something…” he would have chuckled, but he felt it was not right. “…happened.”

Xibalba just kept watching down at the main entrance of the church, his expression stern, his grip on his staff tight. Sol didn’t understand why he hadn’t said anything yet. The forty eight hours had passed, and the man they had wagered on was getting married to his fiancée already, the church beautifully decorated for the occasion. Sol had claimed triumph on the wager, but Xibalba said nothing. He was starting to suspect he was up to something, usually when the dark deity lost or felt was about to lose he’d cheat in some way, but not even Xibalba could manipulate emotions.

“Lord Xibalba, I believe we had an arrangement.” Sol spoke, turning to glance at the dark god. But again, Xibalba did not say anything, he simply stroked his beard and let out a small grunt. “What? Are you backing out? I had heard you were a man of your word-“

“Quiet.” When Xibalba spoke, it was quick and sharp. “Something’s going on in there.”

“What?” Sol didn’t buy it. “If you’re trying to find a way out of fulfilling your end of the deal-“

“You’ll see.”

Sol didn’t understand what he was talking about, until suddenly the doors of the church were pushed open and the groom stormed off, walking towards an appaloosa steed, adorned with flowers and a white blanket, probably for carrying his future wife after the ceremony was complete. But the ruler of the Land of the Remembered had a bad feeling when he saw the bride running after him, calling out in desperation and screaming his name, followed by both their parents, and the guests. But she could do nothing as the groom mounted his horse and trotted towards a peasant red-haired young woman in a simple, but elegant dress.

Xibalba glanced at Sol with a smirk of satisfaction as the man picked the red-head and galloped away with her in his arms, ignoring the anguished screams of his bride to be. “You were saying, Sol?”

Sol could not believe what he had just witnessed. Had he been wrong all this time? how did this happen? But what nearly did it was the realization of what this meant.

He lost.

“Well, my dear Sol, I hope you have already packed up your things.” Xibalba chuckled darkly, relishing in the face of anguish the other god had. “If you’ll excuse me, I’ll be gloating somewhere else.”

And he was gone in a ball of tar.

“And that’s pretty much what happened.” Xibalba concluded the tale, sighing and leaning against the bark of the tree. “I don’t need to say I did not cheat this time, I won fair and square. What do you think?”

No reply.

“La Muerte?” When he glanced at La Muerte, he found she was frozen in shock and bewilderment, her eyes wide, her pupils shrunk and her hands taken to her mouth. “Are you okay?”

“It… can’t be…” she whispered, her eyes swelling up with tears.

“La Muerte, what’s wrong?” he was getting worried, and he grabbed her by the shoulders.

“It was my fault…”

“What?”

“Father lost because of me…”

He froze. “What are you talking about?”

La Muerte gently released herself from his grasp and hugged her knees, sobbing lightly. “That man… I didn’t know you bet on him…”

“La Muerte…” Xibalba lifted her chin with a finger and gingerly turned her head towards him so he could look into her eyes. “Tell me what happened.”

She was reluctant to speak, but the way he was looking at her… so worried. Eventually her lips started to move. “I… That man was going to marry his fiancée, but not for love. It was an arranged marriage to merge haciendas, but he didn’t love his fiancée, she was only after his money and status. He was instead in love with a young peasant, a childhood friend, and she loved him for who he was, not his money.” She shifted away from her husband. “When I saw what was happening, I couldn’t… I just couldn’t let it happen. He was going to be very unhappy, I didn’t want that, so I helped him get together with the woman he truly loved… I didn’t know you and my father had made their wager on them…!”

Xibalba’s eyes widened when he heard what had happened. Had he heard what he heard? It could not be! A mixture of feelings brewed up in his chest. Shock, disbelief, and… guilt? This meant… La Muerte was afraid of how Xibalba would react, but all he did was release her shoulders and let out a sigh, crossing his arms and looking down regretfully.

“Xibalba?”

“It appears I did not win after all…” he said, disappointed. For once he had felt happy that he had genuinely won a wager without cheating, for him that was a great accomplishment. But La Muerte placed a hand on his shoulder.

“No, you did not cheat on purpose. You didn’t cheat, actually. It was my recklessness that caused it, Father had warned me many times not to peek my nose into humans’ affairs.”

It was Xibalba’s turn to gently take her hand. “But you didn’t have any bad intentions, you just did what you thought was right. You can’t blame yourself for wanting to help humans, it’s the way you are.”

“But I caused my Father to lose the wager…”

“You couldn’t have known, my dear. If you ask me, what you did was a noble thing.”

La Muerte blushed and fidgeted with some loose curls of her hair. “You think so?”

“I may not like humans, but I can’t judge you for wanting to make them happy.” He felt his stomach churning and his heartbeat accelerating. “You’re very kind, that’s a good thing, you don’t find people like that everyday.”

Somehow his words were comforting to some extent, but she still felt guilty about what had happened. She wondered what would have happened if she had not intervened in that human’s love life, it seemed her father would have won. She wouldn’t be married to Xibalba… she wouldn’t have met this softer side of him, she wouldn’t have met Emilio, Regina and the others, the human would be tied to a woman he did not love and they’d both be unhappy. In a way, she did not regret what she had done.

Xibalba seemed to be having similar thoughts as he placed a hand on his wife’s shoulder. “You know…” damn it, he felt like an idiot saying this. “Don’t take it bad, but… I’m glad you cheated for me.” He nearly flinched nervously when she gave him a questioning look. “I mean… I know the circumstances under which we married are not… romantic, but… It’s nice having a friend like you.”

La Muerte’s frown softened at those words, in part because she was moved that he saw her as a friend. It sounded like it meant very much to him, and like he didn’t have much friends in his life, other than Epona, and the few others from other cultures Aimé had told her about. She was glad to be there for him, and she let him know by taking his hand. Xibalba blushed deeply when he felt her much smaller hand grabbing his. He wanted to feel her warmth.

La Muerte was surprised when Xibalba withdrew his hand, and panicked mildly when he stared removing his glove, revealing a skeletal, clawed hand. She was not afraid, however, she knew he would never hurt her. She trusted him that much. Xibalba was hesitant, but after thinking for a few more seconds he gently took La Muerte’s hand as tenderly as he could. Just like he thought, her hand was warm and soft, it gave him a feeling of comfort and reassurance that made him feel… happy. Definitely, he was glad to have won that wager, but not because he gained of the Land of the Remembered, rather because he had won a friend. He could see how La Muerte blushed at his touch. The goddess shivered internally, his hand was cold, very cold, and it was much larger than her hand, but somehow it made her feel safe. He was blushing too, they had never been so close before.

They were so immersed in their thoughts on each other that they had not noticed their horses had broken free and wandered away.

Chapter Text

La Muerte shifted awake, a feeling of dread overcoming her chest as her eyelids slid open. She sat up in bed and looked outside through the window, even though there was no actual sky in this place she could tell it was still nighttime. She tried to go back to sleep, but it was no use, this feeling of dread just wouldn’t let her rest. It was very strange, as if it was a feeling that something would happen, and she couldn’t understand what. Thinking rationally, it might be only a silly assumption.

*CRASH *

La Muerte jumped in fright when out of sudden she heard the sound of a shattering mirror. Alarmed, she quickly threw her covers aside and slipped her feet into her slippers, donning her red bathrobe and rushing out of her chambers towards Xibalba’s, where the sound had come from. The halls of the castle still gave her shivers at night, it almost had the atmosphere of a haunted castle, especially when she was by herself. Luckily her husband’s chambers were not far form her own, and a few seconds later she was in front of the door. Not bothering to knock the door, La Muerte burst inside.

Xibalba was panting heavily with cold sweat trickling down his face, clutching his bleeding hand with grit teeth and his feathers bristled in pain, a few steps away from the once-covered mirror, now shattered into pieces and the blanket covering it on the ground. He was so much in shock and dread that he did not notice his wife standing in the doorway, staring at the scene with wide eyes. She had never seen him like this, he looked… afraid? But what could be terrorizing enough to scare Xibalba? he was not easy to even take by surprise.

“Xibalba?”

The dark god jumped at his wife’s voice and turned towards the doorway.  But there was something wrong with him, his eyes were wide but somehow it felt like he wasn’t conscious at all, it was like he was in some sort of trance. Hissing, he flew towards La Muerte and grabbed her by the throat. La Muerte gasped in terror when she felt his clawed hand grab her throat, and his mad eyes glaring into hers.

Xibalba didn’t know what came over him; he didn’t control what he was doing, he was driven by feral instinct and the fear inflicted to him by his demons, his night terrors that ate him from the inside. But as he gazed into La Muerte’s terrified eyes, he had a flash in the back of his mind…

She smiled at him as she held out a crown of colorful flowers for him, the sun caught in her lovely raven hair. “For you, Balby.”

That flashback dissipated his insanity and he regained his reason, releasing La Muerte’s neck and stepping back from her in horror upon realizing what he was about to do.

“L-La Muerte?!” Realizing he had no clothing, he quickly grabbed his purple bathrobe, wincing as his bleeding hand stung, and donned it. “I…! I didn’t mean to…!” his voice was shaking.

But La Muerte knew now was not the time for that. His hand was still injured. “Xibalba, what happened?!” She immediately rushed to his side, careful not to step unto the mirror pieces, and tried to take his hurt hand, but he winced and pulled it away.

“OUCH!” he snapped.

“It’s bleeding!” she tried and failed once again to examine it.

“That hurts!”

“It wouldn’t hurt so much if you stopped struggling!”

Reluctantly, Xibalba allowed her to take a look at his injured hand. La Muerte tenderly grabbed his hand and took a look at the wound. It was a long cut that ran across his palm, blood was leaking out of it though not in alarming quantities, but thankfully it was not such a deep cut, though it had to be treated immediately. Noticing the empty bowl and a few towels on the night desk, she quickly took one towel and pressed it against the wound.

“OW!” Once again, Xibalba protested in a painful annoyance, but La Muerte still pressed it against the wound.

“Apply pressure!” she ordered him as she picked up the bowl and rushed to the bathroom.

“You think I don’t know how to treat a wound, mujer?!” Xibalba snapped, but he still obeyed and pressed the towel against his wound, gritting his teeth as it stung harshly. Damn it, why was he complaining so much if he had been injured much more badly during his time in the wars. He guessed he was not as accustomed to pain as much as before. Soon La Muerte ran out of the bathroom carrying the bowl, now filled with warm water. Xibalba sat down as he watched his wife place the bowl back on his night table, then taking a towel and submerging it, then squeezing it. He knew what was coming next, his least favorite part.

“Give me your hand.” La Muerte said, sitting down next to him in bed holding the humid cloth.

Sighing in dismay, Xibalba allowed her to take his wounded hand and gingerly removed the blood-stained cloth from the wound. La Muerte didn’t flinch as she saw the black blood still seeping from the cut (though in lesser quantities), and carefully pressed the humid cloth against the wound. Xibalba grit his teeth and dug his claws unto his blankets at the burning, stinging sensation of the water going into his wound, purifying it form any bacteria that might have seeped into it. The sugar goddess continued to gently wipe clean her husband’s cut.

“La Muerte, I…” he didn’t know what to say. He just hoped she didn’t think he was nuts after what happened. “I’m sorry for what happened, I don’t know what came over me-“

“What happened to you, Xibalba?” La Muerte inquired gently as she treated the wound, speaking like nothing happened.

Xibalba remained silent for a while; it felt like he didn’t want to answer the question. “…It’s… hard to explain. I don’t understand it at all either.” he said after a while, before glancing down at his hand. “As for my hand, don’t worry about it. It’s nothing grave.”

“Nothing grave? Aren’t you seeing your hand?!”

“I’ve had it worse, my dear. I went to war, remember?”

La Muerte sighed and summoned a bandage out of thin air, starting to wrap it around his injury. A few seconds later, Emilio rushed into the room with an alarmed expression, and his suspicions were confirmed when he saw his Lord’s lady bandaging the former’s hand, but he said nothing about it. “My Lord, are you okay?!”

“For the last time, I’m okay. It’s just a cut.”

Emilio glanced at the broken mirror. “Seriously? The mirror is broken and you say it’s just a cut?”

Finally, La Muerte tied the ends of the bandage gently around his hand; that should do it for now. “There.”

It didn’t hurt as much as before, but still Xibalba carefully closed and opened his palm to make sure the bandage was well tied. “Gracias.”

“Is there anything else you need?”

“No, no, my dear, I think I can survive the night.” He chuckled, trying to add some humor to the situation, to no avail at all. “Sorry if I awoke you and… Well, you know.”

She shivered in remembrance, but she decided to contain it for the moment. “It’s okay, you don’t need to worry.”

La Muerte stood up from bed and headed towards the door, glancing back at him one more time. “Buenas noches, Xibalba.”

He gave her a small smile. “Buenas noches, my dear.” As soon as she had left, the smile disappeared and he glanced down at his bandaged hand.

“It happened again, My Lord?” Emilio inquired, brushing the pieces of broken mirror into a small dustpan.

Xibalba sighed heavily and crossed his arms, now looking down at the floor with a worried expression, once again starting to sweat lightly. “I don’t know what in tarnation is wrong with me… Sometimes I think I’m going mad.”

“I don’t think you’re going mad, My Lord, you’re just stressed out.”

The dark god closed his eyes and frowned, collapsing unto his bed and stretching out his wings. “I forbid you from mentioning anything else of this to my wife.”

“I don’t mean to tell you what to do, but maybe Lady La Muerte could help you-“

“Don’t you dare!” Xibalba snapped, punching unto his mattress while his teeth turned sharp and he took a hand to his temples, sitting up on bed and glancing at the lizard with a deep frown, sweating and panting heavily. This topic always brought out the worst of him. “It has taken me so long earning her liking, I’m not willing to bother her with my… problems. Besides, I think she’s already had enough for one night.”

Emilio knew it was futile to argue, so he simply continued with his task until there was not a single piece of glass left on the floor. He gave Xibalba the corresponding bow. “Buenas noches, My Lord. If you need anything, just call for me or any of the others.”

“Gracias, Emilio.”

When the lizard closed the door behind him, Xibalba tried to go back to sleep, but he was not tired anymore. Besides, after what just happened, he didn’t feel like going to sleep again to have yet another of those damn nightmares that wouldn’t let him have any peace. Damn it, he wondered if the next time he wouldn’t end up bringing down his whole castle in his sleep.

“So, you seem to have grown weaker ever since the last time I visited you.”

Oh, great.

“What do you want now, Father?” Xibalba hissed the last word like it was poison, not bothering to lift his gaze to meet the specter this time.

A shadowy, smoky being with the shape of a dragon’s skeleton of black bones and green ooze joining all the joints together was floating a few steps away from bed with a snickering grin. “What? Can’t I visit my son from time to time?”

“No, you can’t. Look, I’m not in the mood for your taunts so I’d be grateful if you let me be at least for one night.”

“You’re afraid that she’ll fear you, aren’t you?”

That made Xibalba snap. “Why would I be afraid of such a thing?! If you want to break me, you’ll have to do better than that.” He hissed, narrowing his eyes at his father.

The ghostly dragon chuckled cruelly. “Please, boy. You’re starting to harbor feelings for that mujer; it’s not that hard to overlook it. I see all my effort to harden you has been a waste.”

“What would you know about feelings? All you ever felt was hatred and scorn.”

“And you’re no different from me, boy, that’s all you can feel now. Or it was, until you were stupid enough to bring that puta here-“

“Do not dare call her that!” Xibalba snapped, finally glaring at his father with all the hatred he could muster, clutching his sheets almost to the point of tearing through them.

“And you claim you feel nothing for her? She’s making you soft even though you won’t accept it, boy. You can’t even keep her under control, look at how she manipulates you like a puppet-“

“Cierra la boca!”

“What? You think she likes you? She only feels sorry for you because she has seen how pathetic you are.”

Those words stung at his heart, but he tried not to let his father notice. “You are wrong!”

“Besides, it’s not like any woman could ever love you. You are nothing worth loving, I cannot understand what Selena saw in you that she was willing to die for you-“

The mention of that name finally made it. With a roar of anger and hate, he flew forward and slashed at the specter’s face with bare claws; the dragon roared in pain and disappeared in a puff of smoke. When the spirit was gone, Xibalba collapsed unto his knees, panting heavily and sweating yet again, his claws nearly digging onto the carpet. Ponzoña slithered down his favorite spot on a hat stand towards his master, and gently rubbed both heads against his master’s bandaged hand in an attempt to comfort him.

“Gracias, old friend…” Despite the tension and the hurt he felt, Xibalba managed to smile a bit at his snake as he stroked his heads. He stood up and headed back to bed, still haunted by his father’s words. Damn it, until when would he have to bear that dragon coming back to haunt him? Would he ever have some peace?

Heck, he did not even feel tired anymore.

Next morning, La Muerte knew something was off when she went down to the dining hall for breakfast and found Xibalba was not there. She waited about twenty minutes for him, but he did not come down. She guessed today he’d had breakfast in his study, and so she sat down on the table by herself, enjoyed her fried eggs and bacon accompanied with a small slice of chocolate cheesecake. She felt a furry tail brush her leg lightly, but she was not startled this time. She lifted the tablecloth and glanced down beneath the table to find not only Garra and Colmillo, but also a few other hounds; Regina had already told her that it was their favorite place to nap without being disturbed.

Garra and Colmillo were looking up at her curiously, their ears pointing forward and their tails wagging. The other hounds were either asleep, or simply not too interested in her. “Hi, there.” She smiled at them. “Did I interrupt your nap?”

The hounds simply rested their heads on their paws and returned to their nap. La Muerte continued to eat, and when she was done she stood up and headed outside, deciding to pay a little visit to her horse. But when she stepped outside, and walked into the stable, she noticed Medianoche was not there.

“Juarez?” she called out gently to the lizard, glancing at Medianoche’s empty stall as she made her way to Blanca’s to pet the mare’s head gently.

“What is it, My Lady?” Juarez inquired, carrying a pile of hay in his arms for Blanca.

“Has my husband gone out?”

“He came early in the morning and told me to saddle up his horse, then he was gone.”

“I think what happened last night really affected him. I’m certain it was more than just an accident, but he wouldn’t tell me anything.”

Juarez shifted uncomfortably. “Well… My Lord doesn’t like to speak about his problems with anyone.”

La Muerte couldn’t contain the shiver that ran down her body when she remembered how he had grabbed her and nearly killed before somehow he regained his consciousness and reason. She didn’t understand what had happened that made Xibalba act that way, but she had a feeling it was caused by all his bottled up anger, sorrow and pain that found a way out like a volcano erupting. “Do you have any idea of where he might have gone?”

“Well, sometimes he just wants to be alone. I wouldn’t know what to tell you, My Lady.”

“When do you think he’ll be back?”

“Sometimes he leaves for a few hours, others the whole day, depends.”

La Muerte decided not to press the matter any further, and instead focused on brushing her horse a bit; she couldn’t help but giggle everytime Blanca would playfully nibble on her hair, and she’d pat her neck. After a while, Emilio ran out of the castle and towards the stable. “My Lady, you have a visit!”

“A visit?” La Muerte repeated, and she felt a twinge of hope that it was her sister. “Who?”

“Lady Epona.”

Despite the disappointment, she was also intrigued as to why Epona would come to visit out of sudden without announcing herself. Still, she teleported to the interior of the castle, the living room where Epona was waiting for the Lord or Lady of the castle to come and see her. This time she was wearing a beautiful, golden dress with white and black bodice and silver edgings. It was not provoking in any way; she and Xibalba may have had history in the past, but she knew he was a married man now, and she was not the type of woman to go after married men.

“Lady La Muerte, it is so nice to see you again.” Epona smiled, curtsying politely. “Though I have just been informed that your husband has gone out.”

La Muerte returned the smile and curtsied as well in greeting. “I’m afraid so, but if you wish to wait for him I have no problem with it. Would you like something to drink?”

“Oh, no, I wouldn’t like to be a bother.”

“You’re no bother at all, friend. You’re more than welcome; actually, I’d like to know a bit more about my husband’s ‘ways’.”

Epona couldn’t help but giggle. “There are so many stories I have wanted to share with someone.”

La Muerte led the mistress of horses to the living room, where they had some tea accompanied with a few pastries. They chatted over what they had been doing these past days, but overall Epona told La Muerte of her past experiences with Xibalba (the funny ones), like when he lost a bet with her and had to be her ‘handmaiden’ for a week, or when he had to help her with a foaling mare.

“He fainted?” La Muerte couldn’t believe it, she could barely contain her giggles.

“As soon as the foal’s head was coming out, he passed out like an old lady.” Epona confirmed, taking a sip from her tea. “It was funny, really, he claimed he simply had eaten something rotten but I knew otherwise. He just wouldn’t admit it. I admit, though, he may not have a stomach for foaling, but he is an exceptional horseman.”

“Yes, I have noticed. He showed me impressing tricks the other day when we were in your realm.”

“He obtained his skill in part thanks to his bond with his steed. Those two are like flesh and bone.”

“I could see that too, Xibalba really cares about his horse.”

“It’s normal. They’ve been through many things together. If you knew how they met…”

“Did you give him to him?”

Epona giggled. “More or less. Medianoche used to be one of my prized stallions, but he was very wild and untamable, no one had been capable of riding him without being bucked off. Then one day Xibalba came to visit me, just when my men were attempting to tame the horse…

It had been the fifth, or sixth one of Epona’s men had been thrown off the horse. Xibalba watched amusingly as they were thrown off the dark stallion’s back; he had to say, that stallion’s stubbornness and free spirit, refusing to be ridden by anyone, impressed him. He was a very attractive specimen too, with sable black lustrous coat and long, flowing mane and tail, elegant proportions and a healthy shine to his eyes.

“Ah, that horse may be a thoroughbred, but he is as stubborn as a mule.” Epona sighed, taking a bite from her angel’s cake.

“What breed is he?” Xibalba inquired after setting his cup of tea down, watching yet another soldier being bucked off the horse. “Mérens? Percheron? Murgese? Or maybe a Friesian?”

“Friesian, though he is larger than the normal specimen.”

After yet another servant was bucked off, Xibalba rolled his eyes and let out a sigh of exasperation. “Really, my dear, you should teach your men better tricks in handling horses.”

Epona raised an eyebrow at her companion amusingly. “You think you could do it better?”

“I’m no fan of horse riding, I’m afraid. Only when it’s necessary.”

“Then how about we make a little wager?”

Damn it, she had to know about his weakness. “A wager, you say?”

“You don’t fool me, Xibalba. I can see you are very interested in my stallion.”

“Define ‘interested’.”

“I want to propose you something. If you can tame the horse, it’s yours.”

Xibalba narrowed his eyes. “And if I’m bucked off?”

Epona grinned and motioned him to come closer so she could whisper into his ear. When he heard her words, his eyes widened in shock. “You want me to do WHAT?!”

“Come on, it’s not the end of the world.” She ran her fingers down his shoulder seductively. “Besides, it’s not everyday that I give away one of my horses, do I?”

She was right on that one. Epona would never give her horses away for free, she grew attached to every foal born in her stables, she would never part with them. But this was an special occasion, and she felt Medianoche deserved a worthy rider. Xibalba glanced at the snorting steed as it tried to release itself from its handlers. He had to admit, that horse was exceptional, he would never get a chance as this, he knew Epona’s horses were the best in all the pantheons. It was worth the risk.

“Do we have a deal?”Epona outstretched her hand for him to shake.

Sighing in dismay, Xibalba shook it. “We have a deal.” He stood up from his seat and walked towards the animal with an stoic expression. The horse was by then starting to rear up in desperation, trying to scare the stranger away. Xibalba was not intimidated, however. “There, there, it’s okay, boy. You have nothing to be afraid of.”

The horse snorted and stomped his hooves, neighing in protest.

“Shhh. Don’t be afraid.” He managed to get close to the horse, and ran a hand down its neck. “You don’t want to be controlled, right? You want to be free.”

The horse neighed and attempt to step back, but he kept shushing at it to calm him down and speaking reassuringly to him, patting his neck gently.

“You don’t have to be controlled. Trust me, I don’t want to control you, I want to work with you, my friend.”

To Epona’s astonishment, Xibalba managed to get unto the stallion’s back. The dark god got a tight hold of the reins when the horse reared with a loud neigh. “Oh, it’s okay, boy!” he ran his gloved hand down the horse’s neck once more. “You are black like the night you were born in. Medianoche shall be your name.” Suddenly, green swirls drew themselves on the newly-named horse’s legs, head and chest, and his changed to red and green, just like his new master’s.

Epona watched fondly as the horse neighed happily. Xibalba laughed and led Medianoche towards the open field, before kicking him into a gallop, laughing in triumph all the while.

“Oh, my…” La Muerte smiled at the anecdote.

“It felt like they were meant to be, even though it was the first time they met.”

“Too bad Xibalba isn’t here…”

“Don’t worry, when he is upset about something he tends to disappear for hours or days…”

“Days?!”

 “Oh, well, depends on how upset he gets.”

“Do you have any idea on where he tends to go?”

“Knowing him, probably he’s taking out his anger on some poor little bastard…”

Xibalba snapped the reins to urge his horse to go faster, though he also tried not to pressure him too much. Medianoche’s hooves pounded on the snowy terrain, his breath freezing into tiny crystals as he galloped through the snowy plains, sensing his master’s anguish and pain. Soon they came into a frozen forest of hibernating trees, and when they came into a clearing Xibalba pulled on the reins to slow down his steed into a stop. He released the breath he didn’t know he had been holding, and rubbed his temples, shivering. He would be sweating if it wasn’t so cold.

Medianoche snorted and looked back at his master in worry.

“It’s okay, chico. I’m fine.” Xibalba patted the stallion’s neck gently, then he dismounted and allowed the horse to take a drink of water from the nearby pond.

Xibalba sighed and rested his back against one of the trees, closing his eyes and wrapping his wings around his body to keep himself warm. This place was beautiful in spring, when the flowers blossomed and the creeks ran through the clearing. But it wasn’t often that he came here, it brought him hurtful memories, the only reason he had come here was because of what happened last night. Of the flashback he had when he saw La Muerte’s terrified face.

He and his childhood friend had come to this place various times without their parents’ knowledge, though he never met her parents, nor did she meet his father. He was glad she didn’t, he wouldn’t have bore if his father had harmed her. Hehad already failed to save…. His brain automatically blocked the thought in order to protect his psyche form any further emotional damage, it had accustomed to this a long time ago. He recalled when he and Snow White would come here to play, it was one of his favorite things to do. He wondered how come he never learned her actual name, but instead he simply called her like the princess from that tale his mother had once told him.

Xibalba couldn’t help but smile a bit in remembrance. He could see his younger self, sitting down in the meadow picking up wild flowers to make flower crowns and necklaces for her. He could see her trying to catch frogs and crawdads. Ah, the good old days when he had a friend… whatever had happened to her, wherever she was now, he hoped she was happy.

His thoughts returned to La Muerte. He felt terrible about what had happened last night, he had nearly hurt her in one of his… breakdowns. He wouldn’t have blamed her if she grew afraid of him once more, but to his disbelief she was more concerned about his injured hand than the fact that he had nearly killed her, and he couldn’t understand why. Why was she like that? Why was she not afraid of him?! The doubt was driving him mad, he couldn’t understand but yet he was thankful for it. A few months earlier he wouldn’t have cared less if she left, but now he didn’t want her to go.

He didn’t know what he’d do if she ever left him, she was the second friend he ever had. Well, if he didn’t count his servants and his pets, he considered them more than just that, they were more of a family to him even if he didn’t openly show it. With La Muerte it was different, he wanted to see her happy more than anything; it was the least he could do after endangering her not once, but thrice. The warmth of her voice and her beautiful… yes, beautiful personality, she was so kind and sweet, but also strong and untamable, like him.

He had to think of something to do for her.

Chapter Text

Okay, everyone, in this chap you’ll get to see our favorite couple interacting with foreign gods, and La Muerte finds not all are fond of gods who are not part of their own pantheon. As for their appearances, I found someone in deviantart who drew some pretty nice pictures of the Egyptian gods. You could take a look at them to give you an idea. They’re in my favorites.

Enjoy!

The sound of his organ was the only thing that occupied his whole attention, whenever he played his whole concentration set on his instrument, and he had played for so much time that he could even do so with his eyes closed, he had memorized each tune and key and he only needed to touch them to know. It was his favorite pastime, and he did not like to be interrupted when playing, unless it was an emergency. La Muerte noted that all his compositions were dark and melancholic, it always sent shivers down her spine. She had heard that music was an expression of feelings, if they were then Xibalba was much more emotionally hurt than she assumed.

But when a letter arrived, coming from a god named Osiris, she had the feeling it was important. She was reluctant to interrupt her husband when he was playing the organ, but she felt this was important. If it came from a foreign god, she guessed it was from an old friend, and maybe it was urgent. Who knew? La Muerte made her way to the doors of the organ room, but she hesitated when the dark music sent shivers down her spine once again. Guessing Xibalba would not hear her due to the volume of the music, she opened the door, but she quickly covered her ears when the volume intensified. Xibalba was playing the organ, his back was turned on the door and his wings were half-outstretched. He was so concentrated he didn’t hear his wife approaching from behind.

“Xibalba!” La Muerte had to yell, but it seemed he didn’t hear her. Realizing he would not hear her, she realized she would have to call his attention in other way. She hesitated, but she reached out her hand and her fingers touched his shoulder lightly.

Xibalba was startled when he felt someone touch him, so much his music came to an abrupt end as his palms pressed some keys in reflex and he turned around abruptly, nearly knocking La Muerte off her feet. He was instantly angry.

“What the hell, mujer!” he snapped, his feathers bristling. “You nearly gave me a heart attack!”

La Muerte felt similarly, but nevertheless she managed to speak firmly. “I’m sorry if I interrupted you, but a letter arrived for you.”

“You interrupt my playing for a letter?”

“It’s from someone named Osiris.”

At the moment he heard that name, Xibalba took the envelope from her hand and opened it, taking out the letter from it. He read it, and his features softened. La Muerte was curious as to why he was so serious about it, but it seemed it was important. She froze when he turned to look at her.

“Have you read about the Egyptian pantheon, my dear?” he inquired.

“I’ve only heard about a few of them, but Father has never liked to interact with foreigners that much.”

“Maybe now you’ll have the chance to meet them.”

La Muerte blinked. “What do you mean?”

This was not her day.

It was not that she was prejudicial or anything, but she had heard many things about European pantheons, and most of them were not pleasant, though it was natural that pantheons didn’t interact much with each other, considering how different they were. Xibalba, however, apparently had made connections with various deities from other pantheons, mostly European, like him.

As they led their horses through the desert sands of the Egyptian realm, La Muerte couldn’t help but exhale the breath she didn’t know she had been holding. Damn it, how could Xibalba still wear that armor with this heat! And adding the dark cloak he was using to protect himself from the sun’s searing light, she was surprised he was not even panting. At least she had chosen her attire wisely.

For this burning dry climate she wore a cream colored sleeveless one-piece dress with the bottom similar to a sarong, and a matching waist length veil that widened and spread below her shoulders, though not the entirety of her long black hair, and a piece of cloth covered her mouth to protect her face from the flying sand. A matching cloak rested upon her shoulders, and the hood was up, though because this one was light-colored it didn’t absorb as much heat as her husband’s.

“How much until we arrive?” she asked after a while, wiping some sweat from her forehead. “If we keep like this I think I’m going to dehydrate!”

Xibalba rolled his eyes as he lifted a hand to pull his hood back up before the winds could blow it back and expose his face to the sunlight. “It won’t be long, but I would save my energies if I were you.”

“You’re the one to talk! How come you’re not melting when you’re wearing all black?! Don’t you know dark colors attract heat?!”

“I’m accustomed to this type of heat. Long story from my time in the wars, but it can wait, we’re here.”

He stopped his horse, and so did she to glance forward. She could not believe what she was seeing. She had seen pictures of Ancient Egypt, but it was even more beautiful in person. Aside from the desert, a beautiful palace made from gold and ivory stood up in the background among a beautiful oasis, with the Nile river running through it for kilometers, as well as the reeds along its banks and the exotic wildlife following its daily routine. On the distance she could see some pyramids where probably the ancient Pharaohs of Egypt resided. There was a large human village with buildings made out of brick a near the Nile and the oasis.

“Humans in a gods’ realm?” she inquired, curious.

“The Egyptian Gods don’t have separate realms like back home, my dear.” Xibalba replied without removing his gaze from the palace. “All live in one, known as Aaru in their language, but in your books you may know it as the Egyptian Reed Fields. This place also acts like the paradise to ‘good-hearted’ mortals under this pantheon’s jurisdiction.”

“And the bad ones?”

“That’s something you will have to ask one of this gods.” He grinned a bit. “Race to the palace gates?”

She couldn’t help but accept the challenge. “Oh, you’re on, boy!”

They snapped the reins of their steeds and galloped down the dunes towards the oasis and the golden palace, their cloaks flowing behind them with the buffeting air. Xibalba had a rather unjust advantage in the beginning, but he made sure not to leave his wife behind either, she was not accustomed to galloping either. As they crossed the nile though a bridge, beautiful white-feathered ibises took flight and disappeared into the blue sky, while crocodiles lazily sulked near the banks of the river, though they ignored the gods as they galloped across. As they advanced through a village, Egyptian humans, women, men and children, waved their hands amicably at them; Xibalba ignored them, but La Muerte couldn’t help but wave back at them. When they arrived at the palace, golden gated carved with hieroglyphs were opened and they galloped into a beautiful courtyard adorned with lush plants, a fountain with crystal clear waters and peacocks strutting around, proudly exhibiting their plumage.

Pulling the reins and slowing their horses into a stop, Xibalba and La Muerte dismounted just as servants-also deceased humans- came and led their horses away. Blanca was glad, she was exhausted over the trip through the desert, so much she ignored Medianoche’s flirty snorts.

“This place is beautiful…” La Muerte gasped, looking around in amazement, though she was careful not to leave Xibalba’s side. She did not forget she was a foreign in a stranger land.

“And this is only one part of the Underworld, my dear.” Xibalba sighed, finally pulling back his hood to allow a bit of the cool breeze to refresh him. “The other regions are known as Duat, and believe me when I tell you they’re not as pleasant as Aaru. Anyway, we should go inside, they must be waiting for us.”

La Muerte nodded and held unto her husband’s arm as he led her into the palace. Once again, she was amazed at the interior of the royal palace, with pillars of ivory adorned with intricate drawings, giving way into yet another courtyard, this one smaller than the previous one. Most of the walls were adorned with even more hieroglyphs, as well as golden edges and drawings of Egyptians leading chariots into battle or cultivating papyrus plant.

Two figures approached the couple, but when La Muerte saw them she nearly fainted, and instinctively hid behind her husband in case they were hostile. Two creatures, with the body of men, but one had the head of a black long-eared jackal and the other the head of a blue ibis bird. The Chakal-headed one was all black-skinned, and he wore a god and blue headdress, as well as golden bracers and a long, wide blue loincloth. The bird-headed wore a long green and white robe, as well as the characteristical headdress. Xibalba forgot he had not explained to her Egyptian gods had… interesting appearances.

“Don’t freak out, they’re not going to eat you.” He glanced back at her reassuringly.

“Are those Egyptian gods?” La Muerte inquired, still nervous.

“Ah, Xibalba.” The jackal-headed god was the first to speak when he and his companion stopped a few feet away, his canine lips curving upwards into a small grin. “Long time no see, old friend.”

Xibalba nodded, returning a polite smile. “Anubis. Indeed, it’s been centuries.” He then turned to the ibis-headed god. “Thot.”

Thot nodded his head politely, before glancing at La Muerte. “And who is this lovely lady that accompanies you?”

“This is my wife, La Muerte.” The dark god replied, placing a hand on her shoulder while he fidgeted with his staff with the other. He gently squeezed her shoulder reassuringly when he felt her trembling. “La Muerte, allow me to introduce you to Anubis, the God if Embalming, and Thot, God of Wisdom.”

Despite her hesitance, La Muerte removed the cloth covering her mouth and managed to smile politely at them. “Nice to meet you, My Lords.”

“We’re equally pleased, milady.” Anubis and Thot bowed, with the Chakal headed god gently planting a kiss on her knuckles.

“Xibalba, the Great Osiris requests your presence in his throne room.” Thot spoke next.

He nodded. “Very well, I shall join him shortly, but first I think I should take my wife somewhere to wait for me, don’t you think?”

“I’ll ask Ma’at to keep her company and show her around, you don’t have to worry about it.” Thot insisted. “But the Great Osiris needs to talk to you urgently.”

Xibalba seemed to consider it, he could tell by Thot’s tone of voice that it was really urgent, so he glanced at La Muerte. “You don’t mind if I go, do you?”

“Oh, don’t worry. I’ll take a look around.”

He was still reluctant to leave his wife alone, especially since not all the Egyptian gods were fond of foreign gods, but he nodded and followed Anubis and Thot down the foyer. Once she was alone, La Muerte walked out into the courtyard to take a look. It was almost as beautiful as the garden in Xibalba’s castle, but this one had different plants, and a beautiful fountain, as well as a small but wide flight of stairs that dipped into the Nile. A few ibis birds were basking in the water, looking for small fishes to eat, some dipped their beaks to refresh themselves with a drink.

With all this heat, maybe it wouldn’t do bad to dip into the water a bit, and the water looked fresh and crystalline. La Muerte couldn’t contain it, and she approached the flight of stairs, slipping off her sandals to dip her feet; she shivered in delight when she felt the cool water in her feet, relieving some of her heat. The sensation was so refreshing she walked deeper into the river, until the water reached her waist. She cupped her hands and scooped some water to refresh her face. She even pulled back her veil and poured water into her hair.

Suddenly the ibises grew alarmed and were quick to flee, once again taking off and splashing in the water as they flew away. La Muerte had a bad feeling when she saw them flee out of sudden, and thought the best thing to do was to step out of the river; she had not forgotten she had seen crocodiles earlier, and who knew, maybe there were some nearby. She was stepping out back unto the stone stairs just as the head of a crocodile emerged from the river. But her terror began when the crocodile swam towards the stairs, and as he emerged she saw he had the body of a human, but also the characteristics of a croc, such as green scales, a thick tail and creamy chest. He wore a dark blue Egyptian headdress, as well as a blue loincloth over armored rust colored shorts, and gold bracers. Water scurried down his body as he stepped out of the water, stretching his muscles and letting out a yawn, before a long staff with the tip in form of a lighting materialized in his grasp.

Once his golden reptilian eyes set on her, La Muerte shivered. Damn it, the third god she encountered and she didn’t know if this one liked foreigners or not.  Still, she felt she had to be polite, she didn’t want to give a bad impression. “Greeting, My Lord.” She curtsied.

The crocodilian entity’s stern features softened as he examined the lovely woman in front of him. He had never seen her before around here, that only meant one thing. “You’re from another pantheon, aren’t you?”

La Muerte’s stomach churned. “S-Sí…” when the god blinked in confusion at the word, she realized he did not know Spanish. “I mean, yes.”

“I suppose you’re somehow related to Xibalba, right?”

“He is my husband…”

The crocodile laughed. “And here I thought that old rascal said he wasn’t interested in romance!” he realized he was freaking her out. “Oh, my apologies, you don’t know who I am.” He gave La Muerte a polite bow. “I am Sobek, God of the Nile River and crocodiles.”

That was pretty obvious. “I’m La Muerte, from the Land of the Remembered.” She smiled, a bit calmer now. It seemed he didn’t mind her being a stranger.

“Land of the Remembered? I’m afraid I have yet to hear from such a place, my dear.”

“It’s from the New World, My Lord.”

Sobek nodded. “I see. I admit, they have quite interesting names for their realms.” He glanced behind La Muerte and saw a figure approaching, frowning when he recognized it. “Oh, great.”

“Is something wrong?”

“Here comes the sandstorm…”

Confused, La Muerte turned around to see what he was talking about, but she found no sandstorm, only a rather sinister-looking figure walking towards them. She felt a shiver down her spine and hid behind Sobek in case he was a hostile entity. He had the head of… She couldn’t identify it, she had never seen such a creature before, it had a long snout and two short rectangular ears. He was of a dark gray color, with long, black spiky hair and blood red eyes with darker markings around it. Two long strands of hair ran down from the sides of his ears to his chest, and a black goatee hung from his chin; a dark red and black ‘skirt’ hung from his waist. Like La Muerte assumed, his eyes had not even a glint of politeness as he glanced at her.

“Well, well, looks like my brother has no qualms about letting strangers in here, does he?”

“What do you want, Set?” Sobek snapped, pushing La Muerte further behind him gently, glaring at Set with a severe glance. “Why don’t you go dance around the desert or something?”

“I just returned from there, and look what I’ve found. Xibalba and a concubine of his.”

At the word concubine, La Muerte’s temper flared up as she came form behind Sobek’s protective frame and stood her ground in front of Set, her eyes flaring up in indignation. “What did you just call me?”

“Oh, I’m sorry, I guess you don’t know what a concubine is.” Set retorted, not intimidated. “Let think of another word for it. How do you call prostitutes in your pantheon-?”

*SMACK*

Sobek couldn’t believe what he just witnessed, his eyes were wide open like plates, dumbfounded, though on the inside he was grinning approvingly. Set didn’t see it coming when La Muerte’s palm came into contact with his cheek. She was fuming with ire, there was a fire in her eyes that one didn’t find in women on this part of the world.

“You better learn to respect women, imbécil!” she snapped, growling with clenched fists. “I’m not a whore who gives herself away to just any man who thinks can impose on me! For your information, I am Xibalba’s wife! And you better show some respect or he will defend me with nails and teeth!”

Set could not believe this… woman dared to speak to him like that?! Who did she think she was?! “You insolent-!”

“Set!”

The god of chaos froze when he heard that voice; La Muerte and Sobek were equally surprised, and they glanced behind Set to find a goddess walking towards them, looking at Set with a severe expression. She was a beautiful woman, with long straight black hair and a colorful headdress in the shape of a vulture with outstretched wings, a long white dress and golden jewelry.

“What are you doing? Bothering a guest?” the goddess spoke in a cool voice, but it was stern as well.

“Whatever I do is not of your business, Ma’at.” Set retorted, not even bothering her with a glance.

“What would Ra say if he saw what you were doing? Harassing a married woman.”

At the mention of his brother’s name, Set grumbled something in Egyptian as he stormed off, disappearing into the halls of the castle. When she was certain he was gone, Ma’at turned to La Muerte, all her demeanor changing. “My apologies, friend. Set doesn’t like foreigners, and he’s not very subtle about it either.” She smiled. “La Muerte right?”

La Muerte returned the smile. “Yes.”

“My name is Ma’at, I’m the Goddess of Order and Truth.”

“Haha! You should have seen the look on Set’s face!” Sobek finally started to laugh. “My respects, La Muerte! No one has ever struck Set and lived to tell the tale!”

“Anubis was not exaggerating when he said your aura was not like that of most women. You have a fire of defiance in your heart, but it is coated underneath layers of kindness and a heart of gold.”

La Muerte couldn’t help but blush. “Gracias, milady.”

“I will show you to you and your husband’s guest chamber.”

That caught her by surprise. “Excuse me?”

Awkward would have been an understatement.

The room they were lent was beautiful, it had a wide balcony and a side of the room led into it, having long ivory pillars instead of a wall, and semi transparent curtains were blown by the gentle breeze. The canopy bed of golden sheets was big enough for the both of them to fit in, but there was one single problem with that.

“Couldn’t they have given us separate rooms?” La Muerte sighed, changing into her dressing gown inside the bathroom.

Xibalba sighed as he donned his purple bathrobe. “For the fifth time, they had no space for giving us an individual room for each.”

“They have such a large castle and they don’t have enough space for individual guest rooms?”

“Egyptian palaces have more courtyards than rooms. It’s sad, but true.”

“How are we supposed to sleep in the same bed?”

“We could use the pillows to make a ‘line’.” Xibalba suggested, sitting down on the edge of bed and taking some pillows to place them between him and La Muerte.

“I know that, but…”

“You still don’t like the idea of sharing a bed with me, you can tell me that.”

“I’m sorry, it’s just…”

Xibalba decided to change the subject. “Anyway, I heard what of happened with Set.” He couldn’t help but chuckle. “I must say, I never thought I’d ever see the day a woman could stand up to him.”

“He deserved it. Even Sobek was impressed. ”He and Osiris have… negative history.”

La Muerte finally stepped out of the bathroom, using her red bathrobe to hide her body from view, her nightgown was… well, short and almost semi-transparent. She didn’t want Xibalba to see her body. He was already in bed, with a small wall of pillows separating their sides of bed. Reluctantly, La Muerte lay down on her side of bed and accommodated beneath the blankets, shifting uncomfortably at being so close to Xibalba in such circumstances. Still, she glanced at him with a small smile. “Buenas noches, Xibalba.”

He returned the smile. “Buenas noches, La Muerte.”

She fell asleep shortly. He watched her for a while, her chest rising amd falling from her breathing, her dark hair spread out on bed. Xibalba brushed a few strands from his wife’s face, quickly retreating his hand when she shifted, only to remain still once more. Even asleep she looked beautiful; the dark god couldn’t help but stroke her cheek gingerly, making sure she wouldn’t wake up. When she smiled in her sleep, he smiled as well. La Muerte had such a lovely smile that could lifted the spirits of anyone, even his.

It wasn’t long before he fell asleep next to her, his hand holding hers.

Chapter Text

 She started stirring awake when the sunlight gingerly brushed her face, feeling all warm and cuddly, tangled in the blankets. She felt unusually warm, and snuggled against her covers and pillows seeking more warmth, pulling the feathery cover on top of her… wait, feathery? Since when were blankets made out of feathers? Shifting against the mattress once more, La Muerte cracked her eyes open. To see what was going on. Meanwhile, Xibalba was pulling back his pillows and cushions closer, until he took notice of something, he felt tangles of hair between his fingers, and tickling against his neck and chin, not to mention that apparently his right wing was trapped beneath all of those pillows, and there was a weight on his arm. Frowning, he slid his eyes open just as his wife was opening her own eyes, and they found their faces a few inches away from each other…

Wait, what?!

On closer inspection, they realized they were all snuggled up.

“POR DIOS!”

“DEMONIOS!”

As they cried out in bewilderment and surprise, when they tried to pull away from the other they didn’t realize they were close to the edge of bed, and fell down the floor, tangled up together in the silk blankets. As soon as La Muerte was free of the cocoon she pulled the blankets closer to cover her upper body, her face all red with embarrassment; Xibalba had equally shifted away from her in a rush, taking his bathrobe and putting it on in a flash, all the while looking away with flaring cheeks.

“I’m sorry, I-!”

“What the hell happened?!” La Muerte shrieked, crawling away from her husband and scanning the surroundings for her robe.

“How am I supposed to know?!” Xibalba retorted, standing up, still his sight from her. This was very embarrassing, he didn’t know how her father would have reacted if he had seen this. Not well, that was for certain, though he internally snickered in imagining his expression. He was quick to regain his composure as he held out a hand blindly for his wife to help her stand up.

La Muerte didn’t know what she was thinking, but she accepted his hand and managed to stand up, still covering herself in her blankets. “I guess the pillow fort didn’t work after all…”

“Must have had some weakness…” Xibalba muttered, still too embarrassed to look at his wife.

“Don’t worry about it, I’ll just…” Finally spotting the robe, La Muerte put it on and headed for the bathroom to get dressed. “Dress up, okay?”

“I’ll be out here, dressing up too.”

As she disappeared behind the bathroom’s door, Xibalba cursed his luck, why the heck did he have to get himself into his situations?! Thank heavens no one had seen that, he would never hear the end of it. He had to admit, though, La Muerte felt very warm and comfortable in his hold, even though he hadn’t actually planned what happened. Heck, he could hear Epona laughing and teasing him about it. As he dressed up back in his armor and cloak, he chose to wait outside the room, not wanting to have another embarrassing… situation. Human servants passed by him, some giving him the corresponding bow, but he ignored most of them, he had no love for humans, Mexican, Egyptian or otherwise. A few moments later, La Muerte finally came out of the room. Xibalba glanced at her and nearly gaped, she was wearing an Egyptian kalasiris gown, colored a beautiful white that contrasted her lovely skin, and a creamy shawl patterned with stars and intricate patterns on top of her shoulders, as well as dark sandals.

She noticed the way he was looking at her. “What? Say something!” she teased.

Xibalba reacted, and looked away with a blush, bringing his hand to the back of his head. “Sorry, I… Well, you look beautiful in that gown…”

This time it was La Muerte’s turn to blush. “Gracias. Ma’at said it would be more comfortable in this climate.” She glanced at her husband’s clothing. “You should wear something fresh.”

“Please, the day I wear a skirt the pigs will fly.”

“Don’t you already wear one?”

Xibalba turned at her with an offended expression, taking a hand to his chest in feigned annoyance. “Hey! It’s a cloak, it’s different!”

La Muerte giggled. “Don’t be like that, you know I’m just kidding.”

“By the way, my dear, how about we take a stroll around here? I’m not supposed to meet with Osiris until later, and believe me, there’s much for you to see here.”

“Well, I was thinking on taking Blanca a treat…”

“Sounds good. Besides, I better warn the stable hands that Medianoche is a bit… fussy.”

“Fussy?”

“Luckily, you won’t get to see what I mean if we hurry.”

Intrigued, La Muerte followed her husband, and as they approached the corridor that led into the stables, she could hear a commotion going on. As soon as the marble floor changed into stone, she saw various stable hands attempting to subdue Medianoche, who was neighing and rearing up like crazy, nearly frightening the other horses, Blanca included. At the sight of his horse being ‘altered’. Xibalba stepped forward.

“Stop!” he snapped at the stable hands. The humans quickly retreated and made way for the dark god as he approached his horse, and soothed him down. “Shhh, it’s okay, chico. Soo…” He patted Medianoche’s neck and stroked his head, until the stallion had calmed down.

“What happened?” La Muerte asked one of the Egyptians. But she was confused when the human spoke in an incomprehensible language; of course, they didn’t speak Spanish. She turned to Xibalba for some help. “Xibalba….”

“I may know a lot of cultures, my dear, but Egyptian language is beyond my comprehension.” Xibalba sighed, giving his horse a sugar cube to calm him down.

“What do we do, then?”

“Well… I could show you around the realm, it’s a beautiful place, especially the borders of the Nile… when there are no crocodiles, that is, though Sobek is not very likely to send his crocs to attack anyone unless he is very pissed at someone.”

“I think I’d rather take a look at town.”

Of course she would be more interested in the humans. But well, at least it was something, he didn’t mind as long as he got to spend some time with her; besides, he knew Set, that hijo de perra was probably waiting for the right moment to get back at his wife. After having their steeds saddled up, they mounted up and rode towards the village. La Muerte was amazed at how different things were in this part of the world, and these humans all going through their afterlives as if they were still in the Living World, even though Xibalba said they were just in one part of the Duat, making her wonder how the other parts looked like, though judging by how he talked about it they didn’t seem pleasant.

After a while, they stopped in one of the fields to relax a bit, and allowed their horses to wander nearby. Xibalba watched amusingly as Medianoche tried to flirt with Blanca, only to nearly receive kicks and bites, but the stallion was not giving up. La Muerte, on the other hand, was watching how the people happily cultivated the wheat from the always-fertile fields and led their cattle around to graze in the patches of grass. She noticed a few children playing at the side of the plain, some even skipping stones along the Nile. On the distance, she wasn’t certain but she thought she saw Sobek floating face-up on the river with a lazy smile on his scaly lips, flanked by docile crocodiles.

“It’s beautiful…” she said after a while.

“I know, it’s a pity it doesn’t longer look like this in the Land of the Living.” Xibalba sighed, shaking his head. “Humans and their love for nature.”

La Muerte wasn’t amused at his sarcasm, however. “Must you always be looking for defects in humans? Can’t you at least try to see them in a positive light for once?”

“That’s impossible, my dear, there are little things I find positive in them, other than being so resistant to so many catastrophes, like when Sobek dropped his wine goblet in the Nile and it turned red, that was a good one.”

She would have retorted, but a sound behind a nearby palm tree caught her attention. Curious, she approached it and took a peek behind to find a young girl with short dark hair looking up curiously at her with matching dark brown eyes. Naturally, La Muerte’s fondness of children overcame her, and she knelt down to meet the girl with a smile. “Hello there. Why are you so lonely?”

The child didn’t say anything. Of course, she had forgotten they probably didn’t understand a word of what she was saying. However, it seemed the little one took a quick liking to her, she stepped forward and started examining the goddess curiously. La Muerte giggled as the child fidgeted with strands of her hair with wide eyes, probably wondering how anyone could have so much hair.

Xibalba approached his wife, watching fondly as she interacted with the foreign child. While he himself had no love for children, it didn’t mean it didn’t warm his heart how La Muerte was such a natural with them. At least she was happy, and it made him feel at peace and happy too. Speaking of which he wondered how things were going back home.

Emilio had never been so terrified in his entire life.

He just wanted to have a relaxing day, without Roberto fooling around and Lord Xibalba away with his wife (not that he was happy that they were gone, but sometimes he wanted time for himself), and what did he get? Lady La Muerte’s father storming down into the castle, accompanied by Lord Tezcatlipoca, and Aimé by chance; now he found himself under King Sol’s threathening gaze.

“I will ask you for a second time.” he hissed. “Where is my daughter?”

“I… I…” Emilio was frozen and stuttering.

“She accompanied Lord Xibalba to an errand in Egypt.” Regina finally replied, rolling her eyes and pushing Emilio behind her. She was much more macha than him, the others always said.

Sol nearly had a heart attack. “Where?!”

“Calm down, Sol.” Tezcatlipoca said calmly. “There’s no reason to lose your head.”

“No reason?! That bastard has taken my daughter to the Old World! Where all those foreign Gods are!”

“You talk about my Lord as if he were the Devil himself.” Regina crossed her arms, frowning at Sol.

“Regina…!” Emilio hissed in dismay.

“Father, what’s so wrong with Egypt?” Aimé inquired.

“Those gods are very infamous! They feed human souls to a monster they call Ammut!”

Tezcatlipoca remain indifferent. “You’ve said so. Humans, not other gods, don’t tell me you think Xibalba would allow that his wife is harmed.”

Sol couldn’t believe what he was hearing. “You seem to forget it’s Xibalba we’re talking about! The one who tried to take over my kingdom and blackmailed me into handing my beloved daughter to him!”

“Unless my memory fails me, you made a wager with him, and it was won fairly, am I right?”

“Daddy, I think Lord Tezcatlipoca has a good point there…” Aimé finally spoke again. “La Muerte has written in her letters that Lord Xibalba is not that bad…”

“We don’t know that! He could have her threathened!”

“You have no proof of that, Sol.” Tezcatlipoca said. “Unless La Muerte herself speaks of it, you have no way of proving Xibalba mistreats her, if he does at all.”

“My Lord is no brute!” Regina finally snapped. “You may think the worst of him, but Lord Xibalba would never lay a hand on a woman! He is a gentleman!”

Sol glared down at lizard. “I doubt it. You work for him, you could be covering him up.”

Tezcatlipoca glanced down at Regina, and saw the lizard was still firm. It could be that she was telling the truth, if she was willing to defend her master. There was only one way to figure it out. “Señorita, I’d like to take a look and see if you speak truthfully.”

Regina looked up at him in confusion. “Excuse me?”

“It’s nothing unpleasant, I promise.”

Though she was hesitant, Regina nodded. She said nothing as allowed the black jaguar to place a paw-like hand on her head, and her mind went blank as he searched through her memories, looking for any signs that she was lying. After a while, Tezcatlipoca removed his hand from her. “This spirit speaks truthfully, Sol.”

Aimé sighed in relief, but Sol was still uncertain. “I still insist that my daughter’s marriage should be annulled, she didn’t marry him for love! She must be very unhappy here!”

“Sol, if you’re so concerned about this, why don’t you talk to La Muerte about it?”

“I have talked about it with her, but she won’t admit it.”

“Daddy, I don’t mean to take Xibalba’s side, I don’t, but maybe you are wrong around him.” Aimé shivered when her father gave her a questioning look. “I-I mean, he even taught her how to ride a horse, after all, and he saved her from monsters-“

Sol’s eyes snapped open. “WHAT?!”

Aimé gasped in horror. She had slipped her tongue.

Sol took her by the shoulders. “What do you mean by that?! What monsters?!”

“I… Well…” Aimé didn’t know what to say, but she guessed that since she had already spilled the beans she had no other choice but to tell him the truth. “A few weeks ago La Muerte was riding through the Land of the Forgotten when she was attacked by the monsters that roam around here. Xibalba saved her, even though he was injured…”

That. Was. It. “That’s it! When she comes back I’m taking my daughter home!”

“Sol!” Tezcatlipoca was running out of patience. “Have you not heard Aimé? Xibalba saved La Muerte’s life!”

“After endangering it!”

“Your daughter is his wife, she can decide if she wants to be with him or not. We all know she is a strong woman, she wouldn’t let any man domineer her.”

Emilio sighed and left for the kitchen as the gods started to argue over La Muerte’s safety. If they were going to stay for a while, the least he could do was to offer them something to drink.

What a long day.

After spending time on town learning about the Ancient Egyptian culture, interacting with children and the wildlife (even Sobek approached her and Xibalba from the Nile and allowed her to pet some of his pet crocodiles), La Muerte needed some rest. Xibalba decided to take her to the top balcony of the palace to show her the sunset, in his opinion it was the most beautiful in Egypt, watching as the great burning orb disappeared behind the sand dunes of the seemingly endless desert as Ra lowered it. He couldn’t help but stare at his wife as she watched the scenery with eyes full of wonder. It had been so long since she had probably seen a sunset, so there was a shine to her gaze that melted his heart away. Xibalba quickly looked away with red cheeks when La Muerte glanced at him.

La Muerte had noticed her companion was looking at her, but he looked away before she could certify it. She couldn’t help but giggle a bit. “You’re cute when you’re nervous.”

He would have usually retorted, but the mood was so relaxing that he didn’t want to ruin it with bickering. “If you say so, my dear…”

“By the way… I wanted to thank you.”

Xibalba glanced at her in surprise. “For what?”

The goddess wasn’t certain if it was the right moment, but she instinctively laid her head against her husband’s shoulder as she continued to watch the sunset. “For bringing me here. It’s beautiful, I never thought I’d meet so many new gods… I love it.”

Though tensing up for the first few seconds, Xibalba relaxed afterwards and smiled as he tentatively place a hand on her shoulder. “I’m glad you like it.”

Once more, the two of them remained silent for a while, looking at the setting sun with warm hearts. Soon Xibalba couldn’t help but look down at his wife’s serene face, she looked beautiful in the sunlight with a warm smile in her face as her bright amber eyes stared at the horizon. He didn’t know he had spoken until La Muerte looked up at him. “What is it?”

Xibalba blushed fiercely when he looked now directly into her gaze. “… You have beautiful eyes…”

Now it was La Muerte’s turn to blush. “… Gracias… Your eyes are interesting too…” she had always been intrigued by the shape of his red eyes, wondering why they were shaped like that. Maybe it was a genetic thing. Her hand unknowingly found its way to his chest, and his hand was running through her hairs tenderly as the two started to lean their faces closer to each other, dazzled by the relaxing, romantic air around them… Until Xibalba broke out of the blissful trance and pulled back, blushing in embarrassment, soon followed by La Muerte. After a few more minutes of awkward silence, it was La Muerte who spoke next. “Sorry for that, I…”

“No, no, it was mostly my fault…” Xibalba replied, rubbing the back of his head.

“Don’t worry about it.”

A few seconds later, Xibalba stood up from the chair. “I… I have to go and meet with Osiris.”

“I understand. Go, I’ll be here.”

As Xibalba left the room, La Muerte was left alone in the balcony, staring at the starry sky, the last remnants of sunlight were giving the edge of the horizon a reddish hue that would soon be engulfed by the blackness, the air was starting to chill out as a breeze blew against her dark hair. The goddess rubbed her forearms, thinking over what nearly happened. Maybe a few months ago she wouldn’t have even thought about kissing Xibalba, but now that she knew him much better, much, much better she guessed she wouldn’t really mind-

La Muerte grew alarmed when the idea crossed her head. It couldn’t be! She prayed with all her might she wasn’t feeling what she thought she was feeling! There was no way she could fall in love with Xibalba! Sure, she liked him as a friend, but she never planned on going beyond that! Still, the more she tried to deny it, the more her heart would counter it and repeat to her that he was the one. La Muerte took her hand to her pendant and sighed sadly, this was one of those moments when she wished her mother was there to guide her and advice her.

As much as she tried to tell herself Xibalba was only a friend, she also looked for excuses of not accepting it; Xibalba probably felt the same and only liked her as a friend, there was no way her father would ever forgive her if she told him she had fallen in love with her husband, and she was afraid of letting the dark god touch her like that. Damn it, there was just so much inside her head…

She needed to talk about this with someone.

Chapter Text

Okay, everyone! Things start to heat up a bit after this chapter! And listen up, I’ve made a poll about all my main OCs in my fanfiction.net profile page, there you can chose which of those is your favorite. Please, if you can, spread the word, I like opinions on my work.

Well, enjoy the chapter!

When his meeting with Osiris was over, Xibalba was beyond confused and nervous over what happened with La Muerte, so much he spent most of  the meeting thinking about it instead of paying attention to Osiris’s words, though thankfully he managed to catch on in the last minute. Still, he couldn’t stop thinking about her, on how beautiful she looked in that moment, how his heart drummed like crazy as he felt her hand touch his chest. There was just so much inside his head, dammit! There was just one person in this pantheon who he felt would be able to help him.

After knocking incessantly on a pair of doors, finally a female human servant opened the door and looked up at the dark god with an inquiring glance.

“I would like to see Hathor.” Xibalba said, clutching his staff.

Thankfully it seemed that this one did understand what he said, because she nodded her head and went back inside; for a few seconds he stayed outside waiting for the goddess’s reply, when finally the servant came back and motioned him to come in. Xibalba glided into the room, and wrinkled his nose in discomfort at the scent of excessive incense, the room was decorated with carpets with intricate patterns depicting hieroglyphs and other symbols, mostly those related to the goddess.

The owner of that chamber was on a small tea table just outside on her balcony, underneath the pale moonlight and the nocturnal sky as well as the desert landscape around them. She had almost the appearance of a normal Egyptian, except for her cow-like pointy ears and long horns and brownish skin contrasting her dark, dark hair. Her attire consisted of a long dark red skirt and a matching bodice, exposing her abdomen completely, as well as gold chokers and bracelets. She seemingly sensed his presence, and turned her head around to glance back at him. “Xibalba, what a surprise.”

“I hope I have not come on an inopportune moment, dear Hathor.” Xibalba said, bringing his other hand on top of his staff as if he were caressing the snake’s head.

“Oh, no, I actually have no pending business right now. Is there something you need?”

As incredible as it sounded, he felt embarrassed to speak of this. “It’s… I need your help with something.”

“You? The great and powerful Xibalba asking help from a woman? Wow, you really be in hot water.” Hathor laughed softly, before noticing the annoyed look on Xibalba’s face. “Or… is it something emotional?”

“How did you…?”

“I’m the Goddess of Love, remember? These kind of things have always been my specialty. But do tell me, what is wrong now that you come seek my help?”

Sighing, Xibalba took a seat on the chair next to the cow-like entity. “See, I’ve been feeling… weird. I can’t explain it, but when I’m around La Muerte…”

“Ay, Xibalba…” Hathor shook her head with an exasperated grin. “You should know what that feeling is. IT’s not that hard to figure it out.”

“If what you’re implying is that I’m getting soft because of her, you’re losing your touch.”

“Give me your hand.”

“What?”

“It’s been a while ever since I read your hand, who knows? It could say anything related to what you’re feeling.”

Xibalba had never really believed in these kind of things, but nevertheless he placed his staff aside for the moment, grumbling something under his breath as he removed his glove from his right hand to show it to the goddess. Hathor saw a golden ring on his finger, probably his wedding band, thought she could tell he did not keep it under his glove to hide it from view, rather she had the feeling it was so he wouldn’t lose it.  Hathor grabbed the dark god’s hand and examined it, examining his palm carefully and thoroughly.

“Hmmm… it starts like the last time I saw it. You have had a difficult life, I see pain, and two great losses in your past that left deep wounds on your heart, and up to this day they have not healed even a bit. You are so hurt you shut your heart away to protect it from further harm.”

“Tell me something I don’t already know-“

“But… It appears that all of that is starting to change.”

“What?”

“You’re starting to come out of your shell from underneath all those layers of hurt, resentment and anger, showing your true self to one who has managed to see past your mask of cruelty and coldness, and into your bleeding heart.”

“Okay, that’s enough!” Xibalba retreated his hand abruptly from Hathor’s sight, frowning and standing up from his seat and grabbing his staff. “Thanks for your… help, but I have to go.” As he stormed off, Hathor couldn’t help but chuckle triumphantly, she definitely knew where to hit where it hurt, if there was something she knew Xibalba hated was to be told the truth about himself, things he didn’t want to admit. It was very clear to her he was falling in love with his wife, but knowing that stubborn tar god he would not admit it to himself that easily.

Meanwhile, Xibalba was heading back to his chambers, mumbling something about Hathor thinking herself a know-it-all before pondering on her words. How dare she talk to him like that?! He felt nothing for La Muerte! Other than the growing affection he harbored for her, and the physical attraction he has had ever since he first lay eyes on her stunning curves… oh, damn, here it goes again! Xibalba sighed in relief when he finally saw the doors of his guest room, though he was subtly worried about what to do after what nearly happened. Hopefully, La Muerte was already asleep.

But as he came closer he realized the door was open. Had she gone out? She didn’t know her way around, what reason could she have to get out of the room?

“La Muerte?” he called gently as he walked inside. His heart skipped a beat when he saw the state the room was in. It looked as if there had been a fight in there, with pillows on the ground, a broken pieces of glass scattered and a few cushions ripped off. “La Muerte!” he looked around the room, but his wife was nowhere to be found. Damn it, why in tarnation did he leave her alone?! As he was about to fly out of the room to inform Osiris of what had transpired, something caught his attention. pawprints on the ground, the marks were smoking as if an infernal beast had come inside. Xibalba grit his teeth and clenched his hands into fists as a name .

“Set…”

Before he could do anything, something else caught his eye; a few centimeters away from the paw prints, there were a few strands of dark hair. Picking them up, the dark god took a sniff to them, and caught the scent of roses and marigolds.  He walked out of the room, and just out in the hall he managed to catch glimpse of yet another strands of hair, and he managed to see more forming a trail leading him somewhere; ah, La Muerte, what a smart woman.

He hoped his military training on tracking wasn’t rusted.

La Muerte let out muffled screams through the rag in her mouth as she was led somewhere by her mysterious kidnappers, but they had covered her head with a bag and she couldn’t see anything. She struggled against her bound hands behind her back, but her captors were much stronger. She had no idea what they wanted with her or who they worked for, but she was praying they didn’t caught on her trick. Having so much hair had its advantages if you were smart enough to figure it out. She subtly plucked strands of her hair and let the fall to the ground, hoping someone would take notice.

Finally, after a long while of being the bag was removed from her head, but before her eyes could adjust to the light, her captor placed a cloth over her nose, and though she didn’t stop struggling with all her might in hopes of getting free, soon whatever substance they had put on the cloth took its intended effect as her consciousness slipped away. When they were certain she was completely unconscious, the demons proceeded to do as their master told them; they had brought the foreign goddess to one of the old flooding chambers deep beneath the palace, where sometimes when the Nile was at its highest tide the rooms were completely flooded.

They quickly proceeded to bound La Muerte’s hands behind a pole and wrapped some above her breasts to it and wrapped more rope around the mid-section of the belly, knotting it off tightly. Then they wrapped some of her upper thighs as well as her ankles. One of the demons produced a thick cloth and stuffed it into La Muerte’s mouth, then tied another cloth over her lips and knotted it behind her head to ensure she wouldn’t scream for help. When the demons were done with their task, they vanished into thin air, just as Set came from the shadows and approached La Muerte’s unconscious figure.

La Muerte slowly began to wake up after the effects of the drug, letting out a long moan into her gag as her eyelids cracked open looking glazed before they opened and she felt her limbs restrained tightly. She immediately began to struggle, wiggling her upper body from side to side, moaning and screaming loudly into the gag as she shifted her legs slightly and tugged harder and harder at the ropes hoping to find some slack to get free. That’s when she realized she was not alone.

“Give it up, you won’t get free.” Set chuckled evilly, not feeling intimidated by the murderous glare the goddess gave him. “Not even in this state do you know your place? You’re even more stubborn than I thought.”

“MMPH!” La Muerte growled through grit teeth.

“Stop your grunting, it won’t help you escape. But do tell me, do you know how to swim?”

She gave him a confused look.

“Oh, sorry, you don’t know what I mean.” Set snickered, before heading over t the flight of rusted metal stairs that led upwards into a trapdoor. “Soon I’ll be leaving you for a while, my dear. I’m afraid I’m not the kind of people who like to take a bath, especially in this room.”

La Muerte had a bad feeling when Set started climbing up the stairs. She struggled to get free of her bounds, but they were tightly-knit. Set looked down at her one more time with a cruel smile displayed on his face.

“Have a nice bath, La Muerte!” he laughed maniacally, climbing out of the room and slamming the trapdoor shut.

For a while, La Muerte was alone in the darkness, with only the sounds of her struggling against the ropes and her muffled protests as she tried to get free. She grew alarmed when she heard something from behind the walls, it sounded like water rushing. Her heart skipped a beat and she looked around blindly seeking the source of the sound; La Muerte was startled when the sound of water grew louder, and suddenly she felt her feet wet. There was no water in this room a few minutes ago!

That’s when she realized what Set intended to do.

Horrified, La Muerte screamed into the gag and attempted to take it off as she struggled violently, trying in vain to free herself from her bindings as she felt the water level augmenting, rising up to her knees, forelegs, and upwards. By the time the water was up to her chest, tears of fear were rolling down her cheeks. Closing her eyes shut, she took a deep breath through her nose as the water engulfed her completely; with time counted now, she mustered all her strength and attempted one last time to free herself from her bindings, but they were too strong, and her fear only augmented when she started to run out of air, and her consciousness started to fade away. Finally, her body surrendered as her oxygen depleted, and she lost consciousness; thinking it was the end, La Muerte’s last thoughts drifted to her family and friends, but overall to a certain dark god…

But before everything went dark, she thought she saw something diving into the water and swimming towards her…

Xibalba knew Set well, he had known he would probably try to get revenge on his wife after the way she stood up to him. Having no time to go tell the other Gods what had happened, he quickly followed the trail of hairs La Muerte had left, and it took him beneath the palace, far deep, just where the drowning chambers were located. Xibalba knew he had little time before La Muerte succumbed to being underwater without air for too long, so he quickly opened the trapdoor leading to the one his wife was imprisoned in, and took a deep breath before quickly dove into the water. Indeed, la Muerte was tied down to a pole, gagged, and unconscious. Xibalba quickly swam towards her and tried to untie her bindings, but upon finding they were to strongly knit, he took out a small knife he carried for emergencies and started cutting through the ropes. Once he freed her, he took her in his arms and swam back towards the trapdoor, moving himself forward with his wings.

As soon as they emerged from the water, Xibalba inhaled precious oxygen and pulled his wife out of the water, quickly placing her on the ground and taking to fingers to her neck; Xibalba grew alarmed. There was no pulse. Immediately he started to quickly apply compressions on her chest with his hands.

“La Muerte!” he cried out. “Wake up! Don’t you dare die on me!”

When she still did not react, he applied the mouth-to-mouth on her, pinching her nose and opening her mouth to kiss her and insufflate some oxygen unto her lungs. She still did no react. Growing desperate, Xibalba repeated the process, all the while talking to her, hoping she’d hear his voice. He wouldn’t know what to do if he lost her; she was the only friend he ever had, other than his childhood sweetheart. He felt affection for her, he didn’t want anything happening to her. “Please…  Don’t leave me alone…”

Finally, La Muerte started coughing the water out of her lungs as rose violently, still scared out of her wits. Her vision started to clear, and she found herself out of that chamber, soaked to the bone but safe, and she was not alone.

“La Muerte!” Xibalba grabbed her shoulders and, surprisingly, placed  a hand on her cheek, looking at her with worry. “Are you alright?”

She had no idea what happened, or why she did what she did, but a second didn’t pass before she embraced her husband and buried her face into his chest, sobbing. She was so scared, and his embrace was the safest thing she had close. Although taken aback for a while, Xibalba soon returned the embrace and pulled his wife close, wrapping his wings around her and trying to rub some warmth unto her.

“Shhh, it’s okay. I’m here.”

“Xibalba…” La Muerte sobbed, snuggling deeply into his embrace. “It was horrible…”

“Don’t worry, you’re safe now.”

“If you had not found me…”

Despite the tension, Xibalba smiled a bit at her and ran a hand through her long hair. “How could I not have noticed the trail you left? You have such a beautiful hair.”

“What happened to Set?”

Xibalba frowned. “Osiris is not going to be happy.”

After the rest of the Egyptian pantheon found out about what Set had tried to do, they were less than pleased, though most of them were not really surprised that he would try to do such a thing. Anubis and Thot took la Muerte and Xibalba before Osiris, after giving them warm tea and dry clothing. Set was brought before Osiris and judged by his actions, and he was cynical enough to admit he did try to murder her; it took Xibalba every fiber of self-control in his body not to attack Set (Sobek, Anubis and Khnum had to restrain him, actually).  Set’s punishment was banishment to the darker parts of Duat, even though the other gods knew he never took his punishments very seriously.

Osiris and Isis offered Xibalba and La Muerte an apology for what had happened, and as a show of goodwill, gifted La Muerte with an ancient spell that would serve her to defend herself if she needed it. The next morning they would return home at last, and thankfully they wouldn’t encounter Set.

As they prepared to go to sleep, Xibalba pondered over what happened before La Muerte’s capture an over the way he felt when he thought he was going to lose her. He told himself he just didn’t want to lose his friend, but another pat of him told him that it was more than that, that he felt something for her even though he did not want to accept it. A while later, when La Muerte came out of the bathroom in her bathrobe, Xibalba had placed another pillow ‘line between their side of the bed, this one better made. As he saw her coming out, he hesitated, but he had to speak with her. “La Muerte…?”

The goddess was surprised when he spoke, but nevertheless she sat down next to him in bed. “What is it?”

“Are you okay? Do you need anything?”

“I’m okay, Xibalba, really.”

“If you feel uncomfortable that we share a bed I can sleep on the couch, I don’t mind…”

“No, you have the same right to the bed as me. Besides,” La Muerte smiled a bit as she leaned in and planted a kiss on Xibalba’s cheek. “You deserve it after you rescued me, my knight on shining armor.”

Xibalba blushed deeply, his feathers bristling awkwardly. “W-Well, I… I couldn’t j-just leave you t-to… You know…” Damn it, here it went again! He was finding it difficult to even speak, he was starting to sweat and his heart nearly burst out of his chest. This woman was driving him mad, really! Finally, he managed speak calmly again. “Like I told you once, as your husband it is my duty to keep you safe. And by the way, it was very smart on your part, using your hair to leave a trail.”

“I guess having so much hair turned out to come in handy after all…” now it was La Muerte’s turn to blush as she shifted awkwardly.

They remained silent for a few minutes, afraid to break the ice, before speaking simultaneously.

“Xibalba, I…”

“La Muerte, I…”

Their faces were red of embarrassment as they looked away shyly.

“Sorry, you go first.”

“No, it’s okay…”

“I insist, my dear.”

“Well…” sighing dreamily, La Muerte leaned against Xibalba’s shoulder with a small smile. “Gracias por traerme, Xibalba. Despite what happened, it was beautiful.”

Xibalba returned the smile and wrapped an arm around his wife’s shoulder. “Your welcome.”

He had an idea of what he could do for her.

Chapter Text

After a long, weary journey back to the New World, La Muerte sighed internally when she caught sight of Xibalba’s snake castle. She never thought she’d be happy to return here, with its somber air and dark, intimidating design. Xibalba seemed relieved to be back home as well, at least now he wouldn’t have to worry about other gods wanting to kill his wife.

“Well, hogar, dulce hogar.” Xibalba sighed, leading his horse across the bridge, followed closely by his wife.

“I can’t believe I’m saying this, but I’m glad to be back.” La Muerte added.

“I thought you found my castle ‘intimidating’.”

“Well, I did, but I guess living here made me grow accustomed to it.”

“I’m glad you’re feel comfortable now.”

La Muerte was about to reply, when she took notice of something at the entrance of the castle… a carriage with harnessed horses from the Land of the Remembered. “Is that…?”

“La Muerte?” Xibalba was surprised when La Muerte kicked Blanca into a trot towards the carriage, and followed after her. The coachman was taking a nap, but the sound of hoof beats woke him up, he stirred awake as he watched two figures on horseback approach. He recognized the one on the white horse.

“Princess La Muerte? Is that you?”

Her eyes lit up when she saw the coachman. “Lupe!” she chirped, dismounting from her horse.

“Princesa! It’s been a while!” Lupe chuckled. “I’m so glad to see you!” he gulped when he saw the goddess’s husband dismounting from his horse and glance at him with a raised eyebrow.

“May I inquire as to why you are here, señor… Lupe?”

“W-Well, My Lord… King S-Sol and Princess Aimé… they asked me to bring them here, and Lord Tezcatlipoca…”

“Oh, great.”

“My father and my sister are here?” La Muerte asked, her eyes lit up with hope.

“Yeah, well…”

As if on cue, suddenly the doors opened and Luis and Emilio rushed out, looking scared beyond their wits, and there was a glimpse of relief when they saw their master. “Lord Xibalba!” Emilio cried out, panting.

“What the heck happened to you two?” Xibalba inquired, leaning on his staff. “You look like you saw a ghost.”

“My Lord, King Sol is on a rampage inside! It’s a complete disaster!”

“A rampage, you say?”

“He is accusing you of…” Luis gulped. “Well… Abusing your wife.”

“He what?!” La Muerte groaned and smacked her forehead. “I can’t believe it!”

Before Xibalba had time to react, La Muerte was dragging him by the hand inside his castle. They were heading towards the main hall, where they could hear voices aruing loudly.

“You may think as you want, but My Lord is no brute!”

“I don’t have to listen to his dogs!”

“Say that again! I dare you!”

“Enough! This will get us nowhere! The best thing to do is to wait until La Muerte an Xibalba return from their trip and she will tell us herself!”

The argue was interrupted when La Muerte pushed the doors open, making everyone inside the main hall go silent. Apparently Regina and Roberto were in a yelling with Sol, while Tezcatlipoca tried to calm the storm with words and Aimé just watched, afraid to go against her father. As soon as the two of them had come into the room, Sol’s eyes left the lizards and a wave of relief washed over him when he saw his eldest daughter safe and sound.

“La Muerte!” he rushed forward and embraced his child, before proceeding to check on her. “Are you okay?!”

“Father, I am fine!” La Muerte retorted with a hint of annoyance as she stepped back. “Why must you insist?!”

“I’m sorry, big sis, I messed up… It slipped my tongue…” Aimé sobbed, looking down, in shame.

Sol’s gaze hardened when he turned to Xibalba and stomped towards him. “You brute! I know what you did to my daughter!”

Xibalba narrowed his eyes, resting his hands on the head of his staff “And what did I do to your daughter, according to you?”

“Lord Xibalba, is it true that a few months ago your wife had… an incident in which she was attacked by the monsters of your realm?” Tezcatlipoca inquired, binging his hands behind his back while string at the dark god coldly.

“It is, My Lord.”

“Oh, and he admits it like it’s nothing wrong!” Sol growled.

“Silence. I will be the only one to speak.” The jaguar snapped his fangs at Sol, before continuing with his questioning. “And was she injured?”

“She received scratches on her cheek, but other than I was able to rescue her before any further harm was done to her.”

Regina had the feeling the next conversation did not concern her nor Roberto, so she excused them. “Well, My Lords, if you won’t be needing us, we shall take our leave.”

Roberto glanced at her incredulously. “But it’s getting interesting.” Soon he was yelping in pain when Regina dragged him out buy the fin and closed the doors shut behind them. La Muerte would have giggled if the circumstances were different.

“Father, how many times must I tell you that Xibalba has not laid any finger on me!” La Muerte snapped, glaring at her father.

“La Muerte, why do you insist on covering him up?!” Sol snapped back.

Xibalba shook his head while rolling his eyes. “And they say I’m the one with anger management problems.”

Tezcatlipoca realized that if they all stayed in the same room they wouldn’t get anywhere, it would be best that he spoke with the couple one by one. By themselves. “In light of this situation, I believe it will be best that I talk with Lord Xibalba and Lady La Muerte separately, alone.”

“You can’t be serious!”

“Everyone except La Muerte, out.”

Sol was hesitant, but once one of the kings spoke it was the last word. He quietly walked out of the main hall, followed by the trembling Aimé, and soon were joined by Xibalba, who grumbled something about being ‘ordered around in his own castle’  as he closed the doors shut behind him. La Muerte grew nervous when she was left alone with Tezcatlipoca, she had never liked to talk about personal matters with anyone that wasn’t her little sister. Still, her words may condemn her husband or save his reputation, so she had to be careful with what she said.

“Lady La Muerte, I understand you’ve been living with your husband the last months, your father is convinced that Xibalba harms you physically and emotionally. And it’s not that hard to believe, considering Lord Xibalba’s reputation. However, I want to hear it from your own lips, if it has ever happened at all.”

La Muerte took a deep breath before replying. “No, My Lord. Xibalba has never raised his hand against me.”

“But has he hurt you indirectly, even if it wasn’t his intention?”

“When I had been living down here for a few days, he challenged me to a bet on a horserace. I had no experience in horseback, and so I fell off my horse and knocked on my head. But he came back for me and-!”

“That’s all I need to know. But I do understand you’ve been telling your father you’ve seen a side of your husband that no one ever has.”

“That’s right, My Lord.” La Muerte embraced herself, thinking carefully on her words. “Xibalba is not a monster. I won’t deny it, I didn’t like him at first, but these months that I’ve gotten to know him I’ve come to realize he is not what everyone thinks he is. He is distant, cold and cruel, that’s right, but he’s also strong, a stern but just leader, in my time here I’ve seen he treats his servants fairly, and they respect him.”

Tezcatlipoca listened to her every word. When she was done talking, he nodded his head. “Very well, then, but I need to be certain what you say is true. I hope you won’t mind if I take a look.”

“You may search through my memories if you’d like, My Lord. I have nothing to hide.”

Tezcatlipoca placed his claw on La Muerte’s forehead, and searched through her memories; he saw her racing with Xibalba, him taking care of her after her fall, their chats, their interactions, how he saved her from the Forgotten beasts, her meeting with Epona and the Egyptian Gods, and many other moments she and Xibalba did together. Overall, Tezcatlipoca could see she was not lying at all, but he swore he felt something else within her…

Meanwhile, Xibalba was doing a glaring contest with Sol, while Aimé just stood aside, not knowing what to say. Xibalba’s pack of hounds lay resting at his feet, waiting for an order from their master if her father were to provoke him in any way. Luckily, it seemed the dark god was not in the mood to get into fights with his father-in-law. Unfortunately, she couldn’t say the same for her father.

“When my daughter leaves that room we’re leaving this place forever.” Sol hissed.

“La Muerte is big enough to take her own decisions, don’t you think?” Xibalba raised an eyebrow, crossing his arms. “And you can’t simply take her away, she is my wife.”

“I won’t allow you to hurt her any further!”

“Please. You have no proof that I ever hurt her, if I ever did at all!”

“I can expect anything from a monster like you, I wouldn’t be surprised if you hurt women-!”

Xibalba had enough of insulting; flaring out his wings, his hounds woke up and growled at Sol, bristling their fur and licking their chops. Xibalba only had to snap his fingers to make them attack Sol. 

“You better watch your tongue, you miserable worm.” Xibalba hissed, his teeth becoming sharp. “I may be cruel, I may kill in cold blood, but I am no brute. Laying a hand on a woman is a thing of cowards. The only reason I don’t finish you off with my hounds it’s because you’re La Muerte’s father.”

Aimé finally reacted and stood between her father and the dark god. “My Lord, please don’t be mad! Father didn’t mean to offend you!”

“Stay out of this, Aimé.” Sol growled at his younger daughter.

“I’m trying to stop you from getting hurt!”

“This does not concern you!”

“It does concern me, father! La Muerte is my sister! I care for her wellbeing as much as you! But have you stopped to think on what she wants?!”

“She won’t be happy as long as she is bound to this-!”

Xibalba lifted his fingers as if he were about to snap them. “One more word and I will unleash my hounds on you.”

Before they could argue any further, the doors opened and La Muerte stepped out, a little bit exhausted from Tezcatlipoca looking through her memories. She glanced at Xibalba tiredly. “Lord Tezcatlipoca is waiting for you.”

Nodding, Xibalba glanced down at his hounds-they knew what he wanted them to do- before slithering inside, closing the doors shut behind him. As soon as they were alone, Aimé rushed into her older sister’s embrace, sobbing. “Hermanita…”

“Shh, it’s okay Amy…” La Muerte returned the embrace.

“La Muerte, what happened in there?” Sol asked.

“I told Tezcatlipoca the truth.” She caught the sight of relief on her father’s face.

“You’ve told him of whatever Xibalba did to you?”

She frowned. “I told him the truth. That he has never hurt me.”

“Mija, why do you insist on covering him up?!”

“Why do you insist on accusing him of something he never did?!”

“I just want to protect you from that monster!”

La Muerte had enough, releasing her sister she stood up to her father. “Xibalba is not a monster!”

“How can you defend him?!”

“I’ve told you many times that he is not like you think he is!”

“Be reasonable, La Muerte! Now’s a good chance for you to come back home!”

“Through lies?! You taught me to always be honest!”

“You’re saying you’d rather stay here with him?”

Before she could retort, the doors opened and Xibalba walked out rubbing his temples, followed by Tezcatlipoca. The jaguar-headed god glanced at Sol, before speaking. “I’ve spoken to Lord Xibalba and Lady La Muerte, and I’ve taken a look into their memories.” He paused for a minute to glance at Sol’s expectant expression, before continuing. “There is no sign nor proof that Lord Xibalba has ever hurt his wife. In fact, these past months they have been getting along quite well, so you have nothing to be afraid of, Sol. Xibalba has saved your daughter in various occasions, most recently in their trip to Egypt.”

Sol was about to protest, before Tezcatlipoca lifted his hand once more.

“Not another word on this matter, Sol. What your daughter said is true.”

Xibalba so wanted to give his father-in-law a triumphant grin, but felt it would make La Muerte feel upset, and so chose not to say anything. Aimé didn’t look surprised that Tezcatlipoca had given the reason to her sister, she herself believed her when she said she was fine. Unfortunately, it seemed her father was having none of it.

“Well, thank you for your… visit.” Xibalba said, shifting uncomfortably. “Now, if you’ll excuse us, my wife and I are exhausted from our journey.”

Tezcatlipoca nodded. “I understand. We shall take our leave now.”

Aimé embraced her sister one more time before going after him, but Sol just gave his eldest daughter a hurt, disappointed look before taking his leave.

“Are you sure you are okay?”

La Muerte sighed, rubbing her forearms to warm herself up a bit. “I’m fine, really…”

Xibalba didn’t buy it, however. “I know you don’t like to fight with your family.” He said, sitting down next to her. “Sorry if I nearly unleashed my dogs on your father.”

“I can’t really blame you if daddy provoked you. He usually refrains form fighting, but he has never liked any men near me and Aimé.” La Muerte lifted her fingers to touch her mother’s pendant. “He says it’s because he promised mamá he’d take good care of us, but… Sometimes I feel like he is drowning me with his overprotectiveness.”

“At least you have someone who cares about you…” Xibalba muttered, sighing sadly and looking down at the floor.

“You have Regina, and Emilio, and your pets.”

“And my mother for a while…” he stopped himself from speaking about her any further.

“Xibalba, there’s something I’d like to ask you.”

“What is it?”

La Muerte hesitated, she didn’t want to get on his bad mood so soon, but it had been pecking at the back of her brain. “… What happened to your father? You have never talked about him.”

At the mention of his father Xibalba stiffened and his feathers bristled. “I don’t want to talk about him.”

“Did he hurt you in some way-?”

“I said I do not want to talk about him.”

“But-“

“Please…” Xibalba growled through grit teeth, doing his best to keep himself form snapping at his wife, and his eyes dry. “Do not make me do something I can regret later.”

La Muerte could tell it was a very touchy subject to him, but judging by his reaction she could deduce that his father either left him, or hurt him in some way he didn’t want to talk about… Did the scars in his back have something to do with him? She guessed she couldn’t ask Xibalba about them either, he’d probably lie to her and say he got them during his time in the wars. There was a knock in the door that brought her out of her thoughts.

“My Lord and Lady, dinner’s ready.”

Xibalba spoke before La Muerte could. “Come in.”

La Muerte was surprised when Emilio, Roberto and Lorenzo walked into the room with a trolley, with two covered plates on top of it, a bottle of red wine and two glasses.

“For tonight’s main course, we have a tasty three cheese pasta accompanied with red wine from the 1284 harvest!” Roberto announced cheerfully.

“We figured you’d like something tasty to cheer up your mood.” Emilio smiled at the couple.

“Eyup.” Lorenzo nodded.

La Muerte took a hand to her chest in delighted surprise, while Xibalba shook his head with a grin. “You three really are something.”

“Oh, guys. You didn’t have to…”

“It was out pleasure, Milady. That coachman who came here told us it was your favorite dish.”

La Muerte giggled, and decided to enjoy herself with dinner. Though her doubts were still present. She’d have to do some investigating of her own. And she knew just the place…

Chapter Text

Ever since she was told that the door in the western hall was completely off-limits for her, curiosity had been nagging at the back of her mind no matter how many times she tried to drift her thoughts elsewhere. She couldn’t help but wonder what was in that room that Xibalba didn’t want her to see, or perhaps that room brought him painful memories of some kind. She didn’t dare ask Xibalba about it, he had being really serious about it, these days they were getting along really well and she didn’t want to ruin it. Maybe there were some clues about his father in there, and that’s why he didn’t want her to see it.

But maybe… what Xibalba didn’t know wouldn’t hurt him, would it? She could just take a peek into the room and see what was inside, then she’d walk away like nothing had happened.

When she was certain Xibalba had fallen asleep, La Muerte skipped down the halls of the castle towards the western hall, marking her steps carefully and making sure there was no one around while avoiding the lizards the best she could. When she was finally before the dark doors with the claw marks, La Muerte felt a shiver run down her spine and she started reconsidering what she was going to do. Perhaps this was not such a good idea after all, if she got caught Xibalba would never trust her again.

“I’m not going in.” she thought to herself. “I’m just going to take a peek inside, and then I’ll go back to my room like nothing happened.”

But curiosity is a very powerful feeling. With a trembling hand she turned the knob of one of the doors and silently pushed it open, and before she knew it she had stepped inside as silently as she could.

The room was very dark, and La Muerte had to summon a small red fireball to illuminate it. It was clear no one had visited this room in a very long time. The obsidian furniture had long lost its shine and was covered by a thick layer of dust, while moths had holed up the blankets and pillows of the large bed. The curtains were torn, exposing the long-shattered window and the small pile of snow that had accumulated. There was an eerie feeling to this room, it made the goddess regret coming here. In the floor she could see claw marks covering it, whoever once slept here was very big, and menacing.

A flash of golden light caught her attention. Taking her hands to her mother’s pendant around her neck like it would protect her from harm, La Muerte turned her gaze towards the source of the light and advanced towards it. Atop a rotten desk there was a small, music box made of obsidian with gold edgings and beautiful carvings of flowers and birds, as well as a few diamonds and other jewels incrusted. But what called La Muerte’s attention the most was the portrait that hung from the wall; half of it was covered with a cloak, the exposed part showed a beautiful goddess with silver skin and dark, dark sparkling wavy hair like the starry night sky, wearing a long dark blue dress as well as a flowing sparkling cloak. Her dark blue lips were curved upwards into a smile, the warmest smile La Muerte had seen other than her mother’s, and beautiful emerald eyes were showing great purity, affection and love. A golden pendant hung from her neck. Judging by her pose maybe she was sitting on a chair.

La Muerte was speechless, especially when she noticed this goddess had a slight resemblance to her… but she knew that goddess was not her mother, so there had to be another explanation. Maybe if she could see the rest of the portrait she could learn more. La Muerte lifted her hand towards the cloak hiding the other half of the portrait, and tugged at it lightly, jumping when the cloak slid off the frame and fell to the floor with a thud, sending specks of dust flying into the air.

When she saw the entire picture, La Muerte gasped in shock.

The mysterious goddess was holding a baby in her arms. The infant was wrapped in a blue blanket with starry and snake patterns, but his face was visible; it was the face of a black little skeleton, his head rested against his mother’s chest as he napped peacefully. He resulted familiar to her, but she didn’t know from where…

La Muerte ran a finger on the music box, wiping a bit of the dust from it; giving in to her curiosity, she slowly lifted the lid and a little tune started to play. It was the most beautiful song she had ever heard in her life, and it had an air of melancholy to it that would make even the coldest heart cry. La Muerte could, in fact, feel tears gathering in her eyes. She failed to see the faint light that was emanating from the music box, until it flashed without warning and everything went black.

When she regained consciousness, she realized she was in the same room, but something was very different. Contrasting the decaying and abandoned state it had when she first came in, now everything looked as good as new. The obsidian furniture was adorned with golden paint, the window was stainless and the silk curtains were closed. Golden fire candles illuminated the once dark room, reflecting on the walls and the marble floor.

La Muerte jumped when she heard muffled screams behind her. The doors opened and a lizard-Lorenzo-ran in carrying towels, but the weird thing was that he ran past her without even glancing at her, as if she were invisible.

“Lorenzo?” La Muerte called out for him, but he didn’t even glance at her. When she turned her head around to see what he was doing, her eyes went wide in shock.

The same goddess from the picture lay on top of the canopy bed, she was the one who was screaming. Various servants were around her, but she recognized Emilio, Regina, Luis and various others. Again, they were ignoring her as if were not here at all.

“What’s going on, guys?” La Muerte stood up and called out for the lizards, but they continued doing whatever they were doing like they had not heard her. “Hola?” she walked closer to bed to see what was going on that no one paid her any attention, and as soon as she caught the sight she gasped in surprise.

The goddess from the portrait looked like she was suffering very much, her hands were gripping on the railing of the bed, her dark hair was spread out in a tangled mess and tears streamed down her cheeks. Her inflated abdomen and the blood and amniotic fluid staining the sheets confirmed her suspicions. She was in labor. A lizard wiped the goddess’s forehead with humid cloths, other lizards removed the sheets stained with blood and Regina was apparently the brain of the operations, as she was in position to deliver the baby. But La Muerte noticed there was a look of worry on her reptilian features, making her realize the goddess must be having complications.

“Milady, the baby’s breech!” she told the goddess. “You must push when the contraction is strong, but not too fast or hard!”

Despite the pain, the goddess nodded with teary eyes.

“One, two, three, push!”

La Muerte watched in shock, and a bit of dismay, as the goddess pushed with all her might, biting down on a tightly-wound cloth between her teeth while gripping on the railing of her bed, tears of pain streaming down her cheeks. La Muerte didn’t want to imagine the agony she must be going through, breech births were said to be the most painful.

A few minutes later, however, after pushing between contractions and tears of excruciating pain, a baby cry echoed in the room and throughout the castle.  La Muerte gasped as she watched the wriggling little figure in Regina’s arms. A tiny skeleton made out of tar and what seemed to be green ectoplasm, small feathered wings that were covered in fluid and sharp teeth. The baby was crying angrily, wriggling and kicking as he flapped his tiny wings. La Muerte found that baby familiar once again.

As soon as the goddess heard her child crying, she forgot all about her pain and barely managed to lift her head, wanting to take a look at him.

“He’s a boy, Lady Selena.” Regina smiled at her mistress, patting the child dry and swaddling him in a blanket before handing him over to his mother. On one side, Emilio was vomiting on a bucket that Lorenzo had brought, assuming this would happen, and the rest of the lizards took the stained sheets and blankets away.

La Muerte’s eyes widened when she heard the name of this goddess. Selena… Was she…? This meant… Realization dawned on her. She was in the past, this was a memory, this explained why no one seemed to notice her presence. Selena smiled down at her baby as she cradled him in her arms, stroking his cheek with her thumb tenderly. The baby seemed to soothe down at his mother’s touch, and was calmed down by the familiar beating as he rested his head against her chest.

“Xibalba…” Selena whispered tiredly yet warmly as she held her child closer and kissed his head.

La Muerte couldn’t help but smile as her eyes swelled up with tears, her heart warming at the scene. She never imagined she’d see her husband, the great and powerful Xibalba, the most feared of the death gods, in the beginning of his life, when he was such an innocent little thing. He looked so cute as he nuzzled against his mother’s chest, searching for life-giving breast milk. Selena gently guided him to her nipple and he latched on almost immediately, suckling in the warm milk.

The door creaked opened. “Mami?”

La Muerte-as well as the shades of the other present people-turned towards the door, and saw a three-year old godling with a caiman head, bat wings and feather-covered body peek in curiously. La Muerte nearly giggled when she saw how cute Zipacna used to be at such a young age. Selena smiled at her older son with great warmth and tenderness.

“Zippy, come meet your baby brother.”

The godling warily approached bed, and climbed onto his mother’s bed to take a peek at his brother. Xibalba was still nursing from his mother’s breast, so he paid little attention to his older sibling. “He’s tiny.” Zipacna’s little voice whispered.

“Babies are.” Selena replied softly.

“What’s his name, mami?”

“Xibalba.”

Suddenly, there was a small temblor as heavy footsteps were heard on the hall. La Muerte noted how at the sound, everyone in the room grew alarmed and she may say even afraid. Zipacna crawled next to his mother and tried to hide refuge in her hair, the lizards stepped away from the door with fearful expressions and Selena immediately pulled her newborn child closer to her, her eyes widening in terror. Even little Xibalba seemed to notice something was wrong, for he released his mother’s nipple and sobbed, trying to snuggle deeper into her warm, protective arms.

The doors opened one more time, and a great dark creature stepped in without a care in the world. La Muerte gasped in terror. She had only heard about these great entities of European origin in legends and books, but she never thought they actually existed. A dragon. A big, black, skeletal dragon with dark bones and no apparent flesh, other than the green ectoplasm that joined his bones together. Great, dark and crippled wings were folded upon his back, as his clawed paws screeched against the marble floor. His horns were sharp, and curved. Pointy teeth stuck out from his mouth, and menacingly red eyes set on the small bundled baby on Selena’s arms.

“Is that our second child?” his voice was even scarier than his appearance. It sent shivers down La Muerte’s spine.

“Y-Yes, husband…” Selena barely managed to reply, trembling and trying to hold her baby as close as possible. Judging by her face and how she was shivering, La Muerte could tell they were not precisely in love nor the happiest couple in the pantheon. She couldn’t understand how come Selena had married with this beast, unless it had been a forced marriage, like it had happened to her.

La Muerte gasped when the dragon approached the bed and abruptly snatched Xibalba from his mother’s embrace with a paw, ignoring Selena’s pleas to not hurt him. Xibalba wailed in fright when he no longer felt his mother’s loving embrace. The dragon examined his son coldly like a critic examining a piece of art, not caring if his claws hurt him. After what seemed an eternity, he smirked with satisfaction.

“This is the one. This one shall be my heir.”

La Muerte noticed the hurt on Zipacna’s terrified eyes. The dragon carelessly returned the wailing infant to Selena and turned to Emilio, who froze in terror like a statue. “You know what to do.”

Hesitatingly, Emilio nodded his head. “As you wish, Lord Akrinok.”

La Muerte took her hands to her mouth when she heard the name. She realized who this dragon was, she had heard about him not once, but thousands of times. Apparently he was feared throughout European pantheons for his cruelty.

Suddenly, everything flashed and the shades disappeared, though she remained in the same room. La Muerte spotted a dark cradle a few steps away from the bed, and she heard baby-crying coming from it. Selena floated to the edge of the bassinet and picked her little one up in her arms.

“Shhht. Ya, ya, no llores, Balby.” Selena cooed at her child as she bounced him in her arms. “Mami’s here.”

La Muerte couldn’t help but giggle at the nickname. Somehow it rang a bell in the back of her brain, though. Xibalba’s crying diminished into sobs as soon as he felt the familiar warmth of his mother’s embrace and he stared up at her with glossy eyes, his tiny skeletal hand grasping her pendant. Selena smiled down at her child and kissed his forehead.

“Selena!”

La Muerte jumped at Akrinok’s booming voice. Selena grew alarmed and she quickly placed Xibalba back on the cradle and covered him with a blanket. Xibalba was confused as he wiggled from under it, trying to get it off him. Just then, Akrinok stomped into the room and closed the door shut behind him, Selena twirled around fearfully, her hands gripping the edge of the cradle.

“W-What is it, Akrinok?” she asked, trying to hide Xibalba from the dragon’s view.

“Now that the boy is out of your body, you have no excuse to neglect your obligation with me any longer.” Akrinok hissed, grabbing his wife by the hair with his larger paw, ignoring her cries of pain, and threw her against the bed.

“What are you doing?!” La Muerte stood between Selena and him, but Akrinok didn’t notice her presence. In fact, as he advanced unto his wife he walked through La Muerte like she were a ghost. Selena looked up at her husband with terror and dread.

“H-Husband, please don’t!” she pleaded.

But her pleas went through deaf ears. Akrinok’s eyes glowed sickly green, and out of sudden Selena’s arms were bound behind her back and she was gagged with a thick, smoke-like shadow that also forced her legs open, exposing her pussy. La Muerte gasped in horror when she realized what Akrinok was going to do.

“It seems you forget who I am.” The dragon hissed. “I am your husband, and you have to be and my back and call without protest. But apparently I’ll have to remind you.”

La Muerte couldn’t bear to watch and she turned around while closing her eyes shut, covering her ears when she heard Selena’s muffled screams and pleas as Akrinok thrust in and out of her. Xibalba started to cry of fright, but his cries were muffled from beneath the blanket.

Until everything went silent.

La Muerte opened her eyes and found herself alone in the room once again, until she heard bawling coming from the corridor. The doors slammed open and Lorenzo ran in, holding a four-year-old Xibalba in his arms. Xibalba was screaming of agony, and soon La Muerte saw why; his wings were smoking, and some parts had exposed, burnt flesh while his dark feathers were now ragged and smoky.

“Stay awake, my prince.” Lorenzo told the godling, carefully placing him on the bed while trying to move or touch his wings as less as possible.

Soon after Selena rushed in accompanied by Regina, carrying cloths and a bowl of cool soapy water; while Regina placed the cloths and water on the table, Selena sat down in bed next to her son and grabbed his hand tightly, there was look of worry and anguish on her face as she tried to comfort her son.

“Mami, it hurts!” Xibalba bawled, tears streaming down his cheeks as he tightened his grip on his mother’s hand. “Make it stop!”

“Shh, it’ll be okay, Balby. I promise.” Selena cooed, stroking his head. “Everything will be alright.” She rubbed her hand over his forehead. “Open your mouth.” Xibalba obeyed, and the goddess pressed a tightly wound cloth in between his teeth, turned sharp because of the pain. “Bite down.”

La Muerte couldn’t stop staring at his wings; they looked like they had been burned. But how could it have happened…? Was it an accident, or…? She had so many questions that needed to be answered. La Muerte watched as Lorenzo pinned down Xibalba’s smaller arms, and Regina did the same with his legs.

Xibalba’s eyes widened when he saw his mother taking one of the cloths and drenching it in water to clean the fresh wounds on his wings. His feet kicked and his whole body flinched despite Lorenzo and Regina restraining him. They got a more solid grip on him. Xibalba bit down hard on the cloth, the scream locked in his throat as he felt the humid cloth being pressed gently against his sore and sensitive flesh; Selena tried to wipe the burned skin as tenderly as she could, but the fire had done more damage to her son’s wings than it seemed. Xibalba squeezed his eyes shut. They were wet.

La Muerte felt her heart clench at how poor Xibalba was suffering. This explained why his wings looked so ragged and scarred in the present day. Xibalba continued to let out muffled screams and wiggle violently as Selena cleaned his burnt wings. They only intensified when she gently applied some alcohol with another cloth to disinfect the burns. Finally, after a while his wings were treated, and Selena carefully used her healing magic to soothe the pain, repairing some of the damage done, but she knew it wouldn’t fix the state the wings were in.

“It hurts, mama.” Xibalba sobbed.

Selena smiled down at him as she wiped his tears. “I promise you, they’ll stop hurting in a while.”

Xibalba closed his eyes, and returned to the dark.

Once more, La Muerte felt her eyes stinging with tears. Over the time she had gotten to know Xibalba, she didn’t like to see him suffering; she could see in the present day that he was suffering very much, but he bottled up his pain for so much time that his wound had never healed. Again, the shades faded away, but this time the scenery changed too and she found herself no longer in the room, but in a garden. The beautiful garden Xibalba had shown her. She saw Selena sitting in the same bench she and Xibalba had sat on months ago, holding her two sons close in an embrace, humming a lullaby for them. Zipacna and Xibalba were sobbing, trying to snuggle as close to her as possible, the latter’s wings were still burned and bandaged up. They must be a bit older than the last vision, about eight and five respectively.

“Why is Father so mean?” Xibalba sobbed, wincing when his feathers instinctively bristled.

Selena stopped her humming, not knowing what to say. She simply pulled her son closer and kissed his head gently. “There, there. It’s okay, mi niño.”

“He doesn’t want me.” Zipacna added. “And he hurts you, mamá…”

“Everything will be okay, mis niños…” Selena continued to stroke both their heads. “I promise you. I’ll always be there for you no matter what.”

Xibalba looked up to glance at his mother. “You promise?”

She smiled. “I promise.”

La Muerte sobbed when she saw them cry. She always had a soft spot for crying children, she always wanted to comfort them and tell them everything was going to be alright. She wanted to go to Xibalba and tell him everything was alright, but this was just a memory and she couldn’t do anything but watch. Suddenly, the scenery changed and the shades disappeared; this time, she found herself in Xibalba’s chambers-even in the past she recognized it. La Muerte saw Xibalba on bed, still five years old, but he was now crying his eyes and heart out, sobbing into his pillows. Had his father beaten him again?

“Mama…” he wailed, clutching his pillow and sobbing uncontrollably. “W-Why…? You s-said you’d always b-be here…!"

La Muerte brought her hands to her lips as the tears now flowed down her cheeks freely. This could only mean one thing. “Ay, Xibalba…” she approached bed, but as she reached out a hand to touch the godling’s shoulder it went right through his shade. Damn it, it was just so sad… Suddenly there was the sensation of trembling as heavy footsteps became louder outside in the hall. Xibalba gasped in fright and tried to hide under his bed just as his father slammed his door open.

“Xibalba!” he roared, scanning the room for his son. “Show your face or I’ll break your pitiful wings when I find you!”

La Muerte couldn’t believe it. His wife was dead, his son was suffering for it and he still didn’t care?! What kind of father was he?! Xibalba gulped and crawled from under his bed, trembling. “W-What is it, F-Father?” he stuttered, his eyes wide in terror.

“You were crying?” Akrinok hissed, rows of sharp teeth glistening under the green fire of the candles. “What have I told you about tears?!” he grasped his son’s wings when he tried to crawl back under his bed.

“I’m sorry, Father!”

“Sorry?! SORRY?!”

La Muerte gasped in horror when Akrinok threw the godling against the floor, making him cry in pain; tears streamed down Xibalba’s face as he attempted to crawl away only to be pushed against the flood by his father’s talon.

“You don’t have to be sorry for anything, boy! You are the devil on earth! You are my son, act like it! Asking for forgiveness is a sign of weakness!”

“But mama said-!”

“I don’t care what she said! She was a woman, and women are only useful to serve men and fulfill their needs! Their place is in the kitchen!” his grip on his son’s wings tightened almost to the point of breaking them, making Xibalba whimper in pain. “But it appears I’ll have to remind you.”

The godling’s eyes opened wide in terror. “No, Father! Please!” he continued to cry and wiggle in his father’s hold as Akrinok stomped out of the room. La Muerte couldn’t contain it any longer as she tried to go after them.

“XIBALBA!”

But when she left the permitted area of the memories, her consciousness started to fade away once again until everything dissolved into darkness…

Chapter Text

Xibalba shifted and stirred in bed; he had a bad feeling, like something bad was about to happen, and it manifested with bad dreams. Finally, he could take it no longer and managed to snap his eyes open, escaping from the haunting nightmare, but the feeling of dread didn’t go away. His heart was drumming inside his chest and cold sweat trickled down his face; what the heck was wrong with him?! He couldn’t stop thinking about La Muerte…

La Muerte!

Quickly slipping into his purple robe, Xibalba flew out of his chambers, through the corridors of his castle and into his wife’s room. “La Muerte?!” his suspicions were confirmed when he saw she was not inside, but where could she have gone at this hour…?  Oh, no. He had a feeling to where she could have gone, he had noticed how she glanced at the doors of the forbidden everytime she passed through the western hall, he could tell she had been dying of curiosity lately. He wouldn’t be surprised if she had gone there at all.

Xibalba flew out of La Muerte’s chamber and flew towards the western hall, beating his wings furiously as he scanned for the claw-marked doors; his suspicions were confirmed when he saw the door was open. Without time to hesitate to go into the room that caused him so much pain, he burst in and landed perfectly in the doorway. He found his wife passed out on the floor, just in front of…

“La Muerte!” Xibalba rushed to her side and tried to shake her awake. “La Muerte, are you okay?!” Weird. He thought he’d be angry at her for disobeying him and going into the forbidden room, but he wasn’t; he was worried that she had been hurt or worse, there was a reason he had not allowed her to come in other than it being a hurtful place for him. It irradiated with negative energy, he never understood why, but ever since his mother passed the room started to overflow with dark powers; in his youth he attempted various times to discover why, he knew this type of energy was born from pain, negative emotions and overall fear, often in places where get tragedies occurred. But what could have happened here that it practically stank with dark energy?

Eventually he gave up, the room brought him too much painful memories, he could not bear to be in it any longer. He forbad any of his servants of ever opening it, and it remained sealed ever since. Looking up, Xibalba felt his heart break in two when he saw his beloved mother’s portrait; even though he had not seen it in centuries, he never forgot how she looked like, he cherished her memory and held her close to his heart.

But for now, his wife was the only thing in his mind.

Carefully, Xibalba picked La Muerte up and carried her bridal style out of the room, giving one last, melancholic glance at the portrait, before closing the close shut. He slithered all the way back to his chambers, glancing down at La Muerte’s unconscious body. He did not know what she had seen, which made him worry even more… Xibalba lifted his blankets and gently lay his wife down, covering her with the velvet blankets a few seconds later. He watched her for a while, before his wife shifted in bed.

La Muerte started to stir awake, her head aching lightly and cold sweat running down her face; how much time had passed? What had happened? Flashes of the past few hours went by. She recalled having dinner with Xibalba, then waiting until he went to sleep, coming to the secret room, a music box, the memories…. Oh, god. She had to get out of here before anyone found her, if Xibalba discovered that she had disobeyed him…

“You’re awake.”

La Muerte jumped when he heard his voice come out of nowhere, snapping her eyes open and realizing she was no longer in the forbidden room, nor her chambers. Her heart skipped a beat when realization came to her; she was in Xibalba’s chambers. This could only mean… As she glanced around, her suspicions were confirmed when she found him standing next to him, looking down at her with a deep frown. She shivered.

“X-Xibalba, I…” La Muerte didn’t know what to say, she nearly tried to hide underneath her covers, before her headache made her take a hand to her head. “What happened…?”

“I found you unconscious in the room I forbad you to go in.” Xibalba simply said, his voice serious.

“I-I’m sorry if I disobeyed you… I only… I wanted to help you, but…” Damn it, she didn’t know what she was saying. “Are you mad?”

She expect him to narrow his eyes and growl a ‘what do you think?’, but much to her surprise Xibalba only sighed and sat down on the edge of bed, his back turned on her. “No. I knew that eventually your curiosity would be too strong. Besides, what’s done it’s done, all that matters is that you’re okay.”

La Muerte recalled the visions, and trembled at the memory of the dragon. “ When I was in there, I saw… I saw you with Zipacna, and a woman… and a black dragon, he was…”

The feathers on his wings bristled, and he dug his claws unto the mattress as he grit his teeth. “Lord Akrinok.” Xibalba spat the name disdainfully, struggling to speak the next words. “My father…”

“Your f-father…”

“That room you went in was where he… I shut it away after he… died.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t.” he growled. “He doesn’t deserve it.”

“Huh?”

“Remember these?”

La Muerte shivered when Xibalba removed his robe, exposing his back and his scars. “What do they have to do with-?” realization hit her, recalling how Akrinok had dragged him away by the wings, but she never got to see what he did to his son. She could imagine it, judging by the scars.

“They were the only thing I received from him…”

The castle echoed with muffled screams.

Xibalba bit hard into the gag between his teeth (to prevent him from biting his tongue off) when his father’s whip-like tail came into contact with his back, his eyes closed shut as tears rolled down his cheeks, his screams locked inside his throat. His arms were pinned at the sides by shadowy energy, as well as his wings to expose his back. Emilio couldn’t bear to watch, and he had to leave the throne room (also in part because their master ordered them to), leading a weeping Regina away.

When his punishment was over, Xibalba’s back was a bloody mess of injuries, as his arms and wings were finally released and he fell to the ground. The godling was sobbing uncontrollably, his tears falling unto the obsidian floor.

“Let this be a lesson, boy.” Akrinok frowned at his son without a bit of compassion. “Tears are a sign of weakness. If I ever see you crying again, I’ll whip you even harder than before, understood?”

“Y-Yes…” Xibalba sobbed after removing the rag from his mouth. He screamed when his father pressed his large talon against his fresh wounds.

“I said, do you understand?!” the dragon growled.

“Yes, Father!” Xibalba yelled in pain, starting to sob yet again when his father lifted his talon.

“Good.” Akrinok glanced at the doors. “EMILIO!”

The lizard almost immediately ran in, accompanied by Roberto. “W-What is it, My Lord?” he stuttered.

“Take the boy away and treat his back, the sight repulses me.”

“Y-Yes, My Lord.”

Xibalba stiffened when Emilio and Roberto picked him up as carefully as they could and carried him out, not before giving his father a hateful, fearful and teary glance as he went back to his throne…

“I hated him until the day he died.” Xibalba was looking down, struggling to keep his composure at the feeling of old wounds opening up in his heart. “I received no affection from him, only cruel treatment and harsh words. I spent many nights wishing he’d die, until he did.”

La Muerte didn’t know what to say as she heard his tale, and stared at the scars. She felt sorry for him, before something else rang a bell. “And your mother?”

Almost immediately at the mention of his mother, Xibalba’s anger subsided and gave place to sorrow and melancholy as he sighed, bracing himself and closing his eyes. “She was very much unlike him. She was the only person I ever truly loved. I remember she was very loving and caring, she’d come to my room when I had a nightmare to comfort me, she hugged and kissed me, but she was not strong enough to defy my father. She was often a victim of his abuses too...”

Both Xibalba and Zipacna snuggled deeply against their mother’s embrace as she hummed their favorite lullaby o lull them to sleep, often stroking their heads with her tender hand. Xibalba yawned and rested his head against his mother’s chest, smiling drowsily. “I love you, mama.”

Selena smiled at her youngest son as she planted a small kiss on his forehead. “I love you too, sweetie.”

But their moment of bliss and calm was interrupted when the floor started to tremble.

Selena barely had time to hide her children in her closet, before closing the doors just as Akrinok stomped in, a look of lust and anger in his eyes. Zipacna pulled his little brother closer and wrapped him in his wings; Xibalba was crying, he had no idea what was going on, but he could tell his mother was suffering, and it frightened him. He couldn’t see what happened when his brother covered his eyes, but he trembled at the sound of his mother’s screams and pleas.

La Muerte’s eyes swelled up with tears, she truly had no idea of what to say. She couldn’t imagine how he must have felt everytime he saw his mother being a victim of his father’s abuses. Speaking of which… “What.. What happened to your mother?”

Xibalba stiffened. “She…” his eyes were swelling up with tears, damn it. “She died when I was five, but… I never knew how… Father said she got ill, but even then I had the feeling he was responsible for her death. When she died my whole world became a living hell…”

By then, La Muerte had sat up in bed and placed a hand on Xibalba’s shoulder. “Xibalba…”

“I was left alone with Father, I suffered under his cruelty for ten years, until he died when I turned fifteen, in a duel with another God. I did not cry nor mourn for him. I did not shed a single tear, because I knew he didn’t deserve it. When he died I didn’t have anyone else in the world, I was all-alone, so I chose to shut myself away. Caring for others hurt, so I chose not to care for anyone at all.”

When she saw how much he was trying not to cry, struggling to contain his tears, La Muerte felt her own becoming glossy. She was now completely certain Xibalba was not a monster, he had gone through so much, she couldn’t imagine having no one else in the world… Until she recalled he did have one family left.

“What about Zipacna?”

Again, Xibalba stiffened, but his eyes showed more hurt and betrayal than anger. “Him? He abandoned me.” Once more he dug his claws into his mattress, nearly to the point of tearing through it. “Mother was dead, I had not even assimilated it, and what did he do? He just left, without any explanation, without a word! He left me alone!” Finally, he stood up and slithered towards his wall, clenching his fists. “And on top of that, he comes back saying he wants to ‘start over’! He expected me to simply forget he left me alone to withstand Akrinok’s horrible temper and cruelty!”

“But have you ever thought of talking with him-?”

“I CAN’T!”

La Muerte nearly jumped when out of sudden her husband punched the wall, creating a crack in it; Xibalba took a deep breath and sighed, his eyes closed shut. “I can’t… I cannot even look at him, everytime I see him I remember what I went through because he was not there for me. I remember how he forsook me, he didn’t care what would happen to me, he only thought about himself!” He couldn’t do anything now as he felt the tears trickling down his cheeks, overwhelmed by the years of repressing his pain and sorrow forcing their way out, despite his attempts to regain his composure. He froze when he felt a tender hand on his shoulder, and turned around to find himself staring into La Muerte’s compassionate golden eyes.

La Muerte couldn’t stand to see him sad any longer, and decided she had to do something, she wanted to let him know he could count on her, and that she would be there for him when he needed. When Xibalba turned around to look at her, she saw his eyes were glossy, and expressed great sorrow and pain. Smiling lightly, La Muerte gingerly wiped the dark god’s tears with her fingers, before placing her hand on his cheek, tip-toeing so she could kiss his cheek. Xibalba was frozen in bewilderment when he felt the beautiful goddess’s lips come into contact with his tarry skin. They reminded him so much of his mother’s kisses. Finally he could take it no longer and he wrapped his arms around La Muerte, pulling her closer and his wings shivering as he wrapped them around her, closing his eyes shut as the tears continued to flow. La Muerte was taken aback for a few seconds before she returned the embrace, running her hand down his back and touching the base of his wingbone.

“There, there, it’s okay…” she cooed. “Let it all out…”

Xibalba did not reply, he just continued to weep for a few minutes, giving small sobs, pulling his wife as close as he could, refusing to let her go. The warmth of her embrace, the sweetness of her voice and her kind nature reminded him so much… Something inside him shifted, he felt a great weight being lifted off his chest. It wasn’t long before they both pulled back; Xibalba finally managed to stop his tears, and calm down completely; when he looked at her, La Muerte noted a change in him. The darkness she once saw in his eyes once gone, and now there was a shine to them that let her know he would not be the same.

Xibalba gathered every bit of strength in his body to smile at his wife, gingerly touching her cheek with his hand.

“La Muerte, I…” he didn’t know what to say. He wanted to thanks her, for listening for him, for not judging him, but he couldn’t find the words. Much to his surprise, La Muerte shushed him by placing a finger on his lips.

“It’s okay, Xibalba. I’m glad you are feeling better now.”

“You know… I’m starting to…” he stopped himself. “I think…”

“Yes?”

“… I... I’m exhausted over what happened. How about you, my dear? Are you still dizzy?”

“No, I’m feeling better, thanks for asking…” La Muerte had the feeling that was not what he meant to say, but chose not to push it. “Would you like something?”

“No, no, I’ll be okay.”

Nodding, La Muerte headed towards his doorway, but before walking out to leave for her own room she glanced back at him with a smile. “Buenas noches, Xibalba.”

He returned the smile. “Buenas noches, La Muerte.”

After his wife closed the door, Xibalba sighed, returning to bed. As he tucked back into his pillows and covers, his feathers bristling and shifting, while he stared at the ceiling of his canopy for a few minutes, before sleepiness overcame him and he returned into Orpheus’s realm. Some time later, his lips unconsciously curved upwards into a smile.

For the first time in centuries, he could sleep peacefully.

Chapter Text

 The following days after that night, not only did La Muerte note the change in Xibalba, but Emilio and everyone else did as well. The next morning she awakened and found a beautiful arrangement of red roses on her bedside table, her favorites, and a note attacked to them with a message written. Thanks for listening to me. Surprisingly, she felt complimented by the gift and her face turned all red when she read the card, knowing who had probably given it to her. Afterwards, they spent lots of time in each other’s company, eating meals together, chatting casual things during tea time, or go out on horseback together; the both of them couldn’t stand being apart for prolonged periods of time. La Muerte would even help her husband with his pending paperwork.

Xibalba had grown warmer and a bit kinder than before, just being with her made his heart flutter and he felt like he was in the clouds. He had long forgotten about his lust, and instead relished in her warm personality and independent spirit, he had never met someone like her. Not only that, but with her help he became a little more… sociable. His apathy, seriousness and cold demeanor was mostly the same with other people (though now he had a bit of a sense of humor every now and then), but with her he was tender and gentlemanly.

Everyone noticed it. Lord Xibalba was not the same. The cruel, merciless and heartless dark god was changing ever since his marriage to La Muerte, and most of the other gods began to fear him less, he still retained his air of regality and poise, but he had grown… How to say it… A bit more open-minded than before. The only one who was still bent on despising Xibalba’s guts was Sol, convinced that the dark god was making his beloved daughter’s life a living hell.

It was quite the contrary, however. La Muerte liked the change in her husband. She was glad that she could call him a good and dear friend now, though her heart often told her he was much more than that. She’d blush whenever he planted a kiss upon her knuckles, when their bodies accidentally brushed her heart would drum inside her chest, and his rich baritone voice would send shivers down her spine. She couldn’t explain what was happening with her, she just knew she wanted to be with him all the time. She had the feeling of what was going on, but she still was reluctant to accept it.

As she checked for mail -though she did not peek into her husband’s, she didn’t want to peek her nose into his business and get into trouble, again, now that things were going so well between them-, La Muerte came across a dark blue envelope with silver lining. A wave of excitement ran down her spine when she recognized her little sister’s seal, and she almost immediately tore the envelope open and slid out the paper. She has been waiting to hear a word from her sister ever since her last… visit, and wanted to know what had been going up in the Land of the Remembered, overall how her father was doing. Unfolding the letter, La Muerte started to read.

Hi, big sis!  

How have you been doing? I have heard from the other Gods that Xibalba is not the same, that he has been changing, is that true? If it is, you really have a magical touch on everyone you meet! I would like to visit you, but daddy told me not to go to Xibalba’s castle without a scort, he insists that he doesn’t want Xibalba to harm me as he harms you. I guess what you said about Xibalba wasn’t enough.

Anyway, that’s not the only reason I’m writing! My birthday is this weekend, and daddy organized a great party for me. I would like you to come, you can bring Xibalba if you’d like, but I would really like that you were present! See you soon!

Love, Amy.

La Muerte smiled; of course she would go to her little sister’s birthday, she wouldn’t miss it for anything in the world, but she had to convince Xibalba to come with her. He was not the party-goer type, and judging by what had happened he wouldn’t be very excited to be face-to-face with Sol once again. Still, it wouldn’t hurt to ask, would it? Still, she decided to ask him at the appropriate moment.  So a few hours later, during tea time, she thought it was a good time.

“Xibalba?” she spoke, stirring her tea with her spoon shyly.

“What is it?” he replied, placing his cup back on its plate.

“I received a letter from my sister today, and…”

“Yes?”

“Well, she invited us to her birthday party and, well, I was thinking… If you don’t mind… I’d like to go…”

“I get it, my dear. She is your sister, after all, it’s normal that you would like to be there for her on her special day. If you would like to go, I don’t mind.”

“Yeah, but... well…” La Muerte didn’t know how to say this. “I was wondering if you’d like to accompany me.”

Xibalba nearly choked on his slice of caramel cake before he managed to swallow the piece in his mouth. “I don’t think that’s a good idea, in case you forgot the last time we saw each other was no on the best of terms. What makes you think he won’t kick me out when I try to place a foot in his realm?”

“Don’t worry, I won’t let him. He wouldn’t make a scandal on Amy’s birthday.”

“Sounds like him.” Xibalba sighed. “Well, my dear, if you insist, I guess it wouldn’t hurt, as long as he keeps his distance.”

“Thanks, Xibalba.” La Muerte grabbed her husband’s hand with a small smile. “It means a lot to me, really.”

“Anything for you.” The two of them were blushing lightly, though a few seconds later he regained his composure. “I guess we’ll need a proper gift for her.” 

Two Days Later

He was starting to regret the idea.

Xibalba wouldn’t take peeks out of the window of the dark carriage into the contrastingly colorful realm outside, instead he shifted away from it and tried to further hide into his dark cloak. He had to admit though, he loved how his wife was looking out the window with bright eyes, waving her hand at some of the people on the street. They could have come by horse, but he thought he had to give a bit more use to his carriage or it would fall into complete disuse. He just hoped Juarez was having no trouble with Medianoche; the horse was not used to pulling on a carriage, and didn’t like it either. Still, he was glad there had been no problem until now.

La Muerte nearly cried of joy when they had crossed into the borders of her birth place, the Land of the Remembered; she had been living in a colorless place for so long that as soon as her eyes caught all the colors of this festive land they looked brighter and happier than they were, it made her heart leap in joy; she was waving her hand at the passerby people on the street, and they waved back at her happily when they realized it was her.

Finally, they arrived at the castle.

Emilio guessed Juarez and Roberto were too busy admiring all the colors they had never seen before-he himself had been a bit immersed-so as soon as they stopped in front of the majestically colorful castle he hopped off the back of the carriage and opened the door. Xibalba was the first to climb down, before helping his wife climb down as well; he tried to pull his cloak’s hood upper to hide his face from the Remembered souls upon sensing they were glancing at him with fearful expressions. He could guess Sol didn’t speak wonders of him to his subjects at all. But as soon as La Muerte had stepped out of the carriage, everyone almost immediately rushed to greet her.

La Muerte smiled warmly at the spirits, mostly children, who approached her and greeted her happily. She had missed them so much, she couldn’t help but kneel down and let them run into her arms, giggling in delight. “How have you been doing, mis niños?”

“La Muerte!” a little girl cried into her chest.

“We’re glad you’re back!”

“We thought you wouldn’t come back!”

“Did the monster hurt you?”

La Muerte’s smile faltered. Xibalba heard the word and glanced at the child who had called him that, the little boy looked up at the dark god fearfully and hid behind La Muerte, but Xibalba simply grunted and looked away. La Muerte decided to do something before Xibalba flicked the child away with a finger (or at least scare the heck out of him). “Let’s go.” She said gently, standing up.

“I agree, my dear.” Xibalba replied gently, holding out his arm with a small grin. “Shall we?”

La Muerte couldn’t help but giggle as she grabbed unto his arm. “Let’s go, milord.”

The both of them walked towards the castle, the children waving at La Muerte happily.  When they were making their way down the hall leading to the ballroom, Xibalba couldn’t help but speak. “You seem to like children very much.”

“They’re very cute.” La Muerte smiled. “I love them, they’re the purest of humans.”

“Until they grow up…” Xibalba muttered under his breath, before yelping in pain when  La Muerte elbowed him. “What?! It’s the truth!”

“Not all children grow up to be like that.” La Muerte frowned, releasing his arm.

“But the ones that do make you consider it, don’t they?”

 She didn’t want to argue with Xibalba right now, so she decided not to say anything else. As they approached the ballroom, Xibalba tried to pull his hood up higher once again, he did not want to make a scandal in his wife’s sister’s birthday, it would be best to keep a low profile. The doors opened, and his had to narrow his eyelids to keep the light from damaging his eyes. For the occasion, all of the ballroom was decorated in tones of blue and lavender for Aime’s birthday. Speaking of which, the young goddess had been in the middle of being congratulated by the inhabitants of the realm when she saw her sister and her husband come through the door. Almost immediately she turned into a  blur of petals and flew towards her sister and materializing in front of her; the two sisters embraced tightly .

“I’m glad you could come, sis!” Aimé chirped happily.

“Feliz cumpleaños, hermana!” La Muerte giggled, returning the hug and peppering her younger sister’s cheeks with butterfly kisses. “How have you been?”

“Wonderfully, big sis! I’m having so much fun.”

Xibalba felt he needed to be polite for the occasion, and so after the sisters finished their exchange of affection he gently gave the birthday girl a polite bow. “Happy birthday, querida Aimé.” He whispered, his lips planting a kiss on his sister-in-law’s knuckles politely.

Aimé shivered, but not in aversion. La Muerte was right in something, he was truly a gentleman. “Thanks, milord.”

“Well, I believe the two of you have much to discuss. If you need me, I will be over there doing something.” With those words, Xibalba slithered over to one corner of the ballroom, his cloak flowing behind him and his grip on his staff tightening at all the… color.

“He doesn’t like parties that much, does he?” Aimé inquired once he was out of earshot.

“It depends. He prefers masquerade balls than fiestas.” La Muerte replied, sighing.

“Has he taken you to one?”

“No, but he has told me about them, and he even showed me some pictures of one he went to. They were beautiful, I think I’d like to go to one of those someday.”

“Maybe…” She tried to enlighten the mood of the conversation. “Come on, big sis! Everyone will be happy to see you!”

La Muerte smiled. “You don’t have to tell me twice!”

From the shadows, Xibalba watched fondly as his wife walked over with her sister to where the crowd of Remembered had gathered, and almost immediately La Muerte was swarmed over with greetings and smiles of relief, the goddess received them warmly and with a smile on her face. That was one quality he liked about her, she was always smiling and happy nearly all the time, and she could warm up those around her, him included, he had to admit. Unknowingly, a small smile was drawn on his tarry lips, though he still hid himself from the surroundings in his dark cloak. Not a few people had already glanced at him with wary and fearful glances, trying to get as less close to him as possible, though he couldn’t really blame them. He wasn’t precisely a sight to behold, anyway.

Feeling a bit lonely, Xibalba silently stamped his staff on the marble floor and brought Ponzoña to life. The snake almost immediately wrapped around his arm, startled by the loud music and the chattering. Xibalba chuckled and stroked his snake’s heads.

“Don’t worry, old friend, it’s just a party. I had to accompany La Muerte to her sister’s birthday. I admit, Sol might be a complete imbécil, but he does know how to organize a ball.”

Ponzoña hissed in disagreement and went to find refuge in its master’s cloak.

“Don’t be like that! It’s not that bad, it’s much better than being down in the study playing chess, isn’t it?” Still, he felt his stomach protesting from hunger, and so decided to go towards one of the tables to take a snack. When he approached the side of the table, most of the people taking food from it quickly scattered away from it, but he didn’t mind. He allowed Ponzoña to slid down his arm and unto the table, where the snake started sniffing the dishes, and both heads ate the ones they deemed tasty.

Xibalba was a bit pickier; he had more taste for European food, and all the dishes here were Mexican. Still, he did have a bit of a fancy for tacos and empanadas, and the desserts did look appetizing. Besides, he should take a bit back to Emilio and the others, surely they were hungry from the trip.

Taking a plate, he grabbed a few empanadas, some slices of different cakes, and tacos. Surely Sol wouldn’t mind if he borrowed a plate, would he? He doubted it; it was only a plate. Taking a look around and making sure no one was watching, he snapped his fingers and the plate disappeared in a burst of green flame. Then he proceeded to take bites from different snacks subtly.

“M-My Lord?”

Xibalba gulped the bite of the cheese empanada and looked down at the servant who had called out for him. “What?”

The spirit was trembling, but nevertheless he managed to hold out a small slip of paper. “P-Princess La Muerte asked me to give you this.”

Narrowing his eyes, Xibalba took the slip of paper from the servant’s skeletal hands and unfolded it to give it a read.

Xibalba, I know you must be getting bored. If you wish to go, don’t worry, I don’t mind. I’ll catch up to you later. Just be comfortable.

La Muerte.

Xibalba hadn’t even finished to read when he noticed something was off with this… note. It was too direct to be from La Muerte, she usually used gentle, sweet words even in her writings; and speaking of which, this didn’t seem like her hand. He was very perceptive in details like these, this writing looked almost identical to hers, but he could tell she had not written it. There was something off here. Someone wanted him to leave his wife behind, but who…?

Then again, he didn’t have to think much on who could have written this. But he couldn’t just accuse that person, he was close to La Muerte, she would be mad at him if he just came out of nowhere saying that person had sent him a fake note from her. Perhaps he should play along for now… Taking a look around to make sure Sol was not around, Xibalba sent the servant off with a wave of his hand, grabbed Ponzoña from the table to turn him back into a staff, and headed out of the ballroom. He had to write a note of his own, not to mention a good place to hide without anyone seeing him.

Meanwhile, La Muerte congratulated her little sister once again before going up to take a look at her room. It had been so long ever since she had been there, she wanted to see if it remained the same. And who knew? Perhaps she’d find her father in the way. After a few minutes of walking down the colorful halls of the castle-she had grown so accustomed to the colorless walls of her husband’s castle that out of sudden these colors felt blinding and overwhelming-, she finally came to the doors that led into her room. La Muerte took a deep breath and turned the knob of the doors, pushing them open and stepping inside.

Her room definitely still looked like the last time she was here. The walls were a colorful scarlet red with mixed tones of pink, wine and marigold yellow and golden drawings. Her bed’s velvet duvet was perfectly in place, as well as her white pillows stuffed with swan feathers and some of her old stuffed dolls and animals. Her boudoir, desk and bedside tables were impeccably dusted, with not a single speck of dust, everything was perfect. La Muerte approached her bed and sat down at the edge, glancing at the picture frame in her bedside table. It was a picture of herself with her mother when she was one year old. Esperanza was cradling her daughter in her arms, tickling her belly; La Muerte’s smile mirrored her mother’s.

She couldn’t help it, her hands found their way to her mother’s locket as her eyes swelled up with tears. It had been months ever since she last saw the picture, and yet she had never forgotten her. She missed her so much… Maybe it wouldn’t hurt… She hadn’t been here for so much time… Perhaps Xibalba wouldn’t mind that she took a quick nap to remember what sleeping in her own bed was like. La Muerte lay down on bed and was quick to rest her head on the pillows, holding the picture frame close to her chest.

It wasn’t long before she drifted off.

She didn’t know how much time passed, but she calculated about two hours or three. She was still holding her mother’s picture. Oh, shoot, she better go back to Xibalba and check how he was doing. He must be bored out of his wits. She slid the picture of herself and her mother from the frame and folded it carefully to tuck it in the pocket of her dress; since she was here she might as well take something that reminded her of her mother. As she stood up and headed towards the door, it creaked open and a maid walked inside, giving the corresponding bow.

“Princess.”

“Buenas tardes.” La Muerte smiled politely at the servant. “Is my husband still waiting for me?”

There was something, she didn’t catch it but she thought a quick, almost unseen wave of guilt and hesitance crossed over the maid’s features. “Lord Xibalba… He left.”

“Did he say at what time is he coming for me?” She couldn’t blame him if he had gotten bored and left.

“He is not coming back.”

La Muerte’s smile disappeared. What did she mean by that? “What do you mean?”

“He said he wanted to separate as soon as possible.”

Those words would have severely broken her heart, but something was off. Xibalba was not the type to just leave like that, he wasn’t a coward that left the dirty work to someone else. He would have told her face-to-face, she had the feeling someone was behind this. And she knew of one person who was likely to make such a thing.

“Where is my father?”

“He’s in the throne room, but- Princess!”

La Muerte didn’t give the maid time to say as she turned into a blurry of marigold petals and zipped straight towards the ballroom, where her father was sitting in his throne, speaking with one of the newly arrived souls.

“Father!” La Muerte called out, stomping her way to where he was.

The spirit immediately stepped away as Sol stood up from his throne and walked closer to his daughter. “La Muerte, it’s so nice to see you-“

“What did you tell Xibalba?”

The smile on the king’s face disappeared and his expression turned serious. “He left. He said he wanted the separation as soon as possible.”

“No, no, don’t lie to me! If he wanted to separate he would have told me face to face! I want to know what you told him!”

“I told him nothing, he simply said he had no more use to you.”

“I know you, Father! Surely you made him leave somehow.”

“La Muerte, why must you insist on defending him?!”

“Why must you insist on the same thing?! He has not touched me!”

“When will you understand I’m just trying to protect you?!”

La Muerte stepped back from her father’s grip. “So you’re admitting it!”

“I just did what I had to do!” Sol snapped.

The door that led into the ballroom creaked open and Aimé peeked in, hearing the yells of her father and sister all the way over from the ballroom. They were so immersed in their arguing they did not notice her presence.

“What’s going on in there?”

Aimé jumped at the baritone voice behind her, and twirled around to find Xibalba right behind her, trying to take a peek inside the room. His hood was down and his wings were tucked down close to his body.

“Well?” Xibalba inquired with a raised eyebrow.

“Papá and my b-big sis are arguing…” Aimé stuttered.

“Why didn’t you say so before!”

Before Aimé could do anything to stop him, Xibalba burst into the throne room with tight fists and grit teeth. La Muerte and Sol turned to look at him in surprise, but there was a clear sign of dismay and frustration on Sol’s face.

“Xibalba!” La Muerte couldn’t help but be happy to see her husband.

“You!” Sol snapped.

Xibalba brought his hands behind his back as he glared at his father-in-law coldly. “I can guess by this… exchange that the note my wife supposedly sent me was not from her, was it?”

“What note?” La Muerte turned to her father in disbelief. “Seriously?!”

“La Muerte, all I’m doing is for your own good!” Sol growled.

“And for that did you have to ruin my sister’s birthday?! How could you ask her to do such a thing?!”

Xibalba blinked in confusion, before glancing at Aimé, who by then had come to join them in the throne room. “You mean you were the one who wrote the note?” Then again, he wouldn’t be surprised if she wrote in a similar hand to her sister.

“Daddy said that you would have stayed if it worked…” Aimé’s eyes were swelling up with tears of regret as she brought her hands to her lips. “I’m sorry, hermana…  I just wanted you back…”

La Muerte didn’t blame her little sister at all, all her anger was directed at her father. “I can’t believe you used your own daughter for this!”

“La Muerte, I promised your mother I’d always protect you!” Sol was losing his grip on his coolness, his voice was trembling with frustration, anger but overall pain upon remembering his beloved wife.

“I’m not a little girl anymore! I can take care of myself!”

“You don’t know what you’re saying! IF you could you wouldn’t let this-!”

“Watch your words, Sol!” Now it was Xibalba’s turn to snap. “I may be in your castle, but I won’t let you use depictive words on me!”

La Muerte didn’t know what came over her, all the anger and frustration contained in her for years burst out of her chest. The frustration at her father’s overprotectiveness and pressure to do as others wanted of her ever since she was just a child; it burst out in one single sentence.

“I AM A GROWN WOMAN, A MARRIED ONE, I AM NOT YOURS ANYMORE SO STOP BOSSING ME AROUND!”

What happened next was a blur. Aimé gasped in horror, Xibalba’s eyes opened wide like plates in shock and nearly all the crowd gasped when Sol’s palm came into contact with his older daughter’s cheek. La Muerte didn’t have time to react as she fell to the ground, her white sugary cheek reddened by the mark. The unthinkable had happened. She looked up at her father in disbelief, shock and hurt. Sol realized what he had done when he saw his beloved child on the floor.

“La Muerte!” Xibalba was the first to react, kneeling down next to his wife and placing his hands on her shoulder. “Are you okay?!” She didn’t move, she was just looking up at her father with dread and pain, a few tears were already trickling down her cheeks.

“Big sis!” Aimé joined Xibalba and tried to shake her older sister into a reaction, but to no avail.

Sol choked back a gasp of horror upon realizing what had just happened. “L-La Muerte, I didn’t mean…!” But as he reached down to touch his daughter, she finally reacted and slapped his hands away.

“NO ME TOQUES!”

Before Xibalba knew it, La Muerte had already gone back on her feet and was dragging him away by the hand. “La Muerte-?”

“We’re leaving.” She hissed, though there was more sorrowful rage than actual anger in her voice. He could tell she was fighting to hold back her tears.

“La Muerte, wait!” Sol went after her, but she turned into a blur of Marigold petals, prompting her husband to turn into a ball of tar and go after her. He turned into a trail of cocoa powder and tried to make his way to the main doors before his daughter, but by the time he made his way outside La Muerte and her husband had already gotten into the carriage, and the lizards that served Xibalba were had motioned the horses-the dark god’s black stallion and La Muerte’s white mare-to gallop away.

“La Muerte!” Sol called out for his daughter as he watched the carriage getting farther and farther. “I’m sorry… I’m so sorry, mi hija…”

The carriage disappeared in the distance.

Chapter Text

After returning from the Land of the Remembered, La Muerte locked herself in her room and cried. Xibalba felt terrible, he hated when she was sad, contrasting her joyful and happy self. Sometimes he’d even hear her sobs all the way from her room to his, and it killed him. Not only that, but she was silent during meals, and at times he could even see a few tears trickle down her face from underneath that giant hat of hers. Though he was relieved that he wasn’t the cause of those tears, he still felt terrible that she cried. And unfortunately, he was not good at comforting people.

Now letters from the Land of the Remembered would arrive on a daily basis, in aqua green and dark blue envelopes respectively, but La Muerte would only read the ones in the dark blue envelopes, probably coming from her sister, discarding the ones in the aqua green ones, undoubtedly from Sol. Finally came the day he could not bear to see his wife so miserable anymore, and knocked the door to her room.

“La Muerte?”

When there was no reply, turned the knob and he pushed the door open to find his wife on bed, her back turned towards the door. He heard sobs coming from her, and it made him feel even worse than before. Silently, Xibalba walked over to La Muerte’s bed and sat down, still trying to think on what to say to her. “Are you okay?”

Another sob, and La Muerte managed to speak. “He… He had n-never…” She wasn’t even able to finish the sentence.

“I don’t know what to say… I can’t imagine what you must be feeling right now…”

“I never thought he’d be capable of doing it…”

“I don’t mean to criticize your father, but what he did has no justification.”

“I can’t say I’m completely blameless either…”

“You just stood your ground, that’s nothing to be ashamed of.”

La Muerte sat up cross-legged on bed, hugging herself. “He was stern, sometimes he yelled, but he had never laid a finger on me or Aimé…” She grabbed her pendant gingerly. “For the first time I’m glad mamá wasn’t here to see it… It would have broken her heart…” her eyes swelled up with tears yet again, but she bit her lips and tried her best to repress them. Xibalba noticed, and gently took his fingers to her chin to turn her head towards him and lift her gaze to meet his, wiping her tears with his thumb gently. La Muerte couldn’t take it anymore, and she allowed herself to fall into his embrace, weeping openly and burying her face into his neck. Xibalba wrapped his arms around her, even going as far as to wrap his wings around her to make her feel warm and safe, running his hands through her beautiful hair.

“Shh, it’s okay.” He cooed, letting her cry on his shoulder.

“I just…” she couldn’t speak, she was drowning in her own pain. Out of all people who could have smacked her, it had to be her own father. She cried for what seemed like hours, before her eyes were bloodshot and dry, unable to shed anymore, relaxing in Xibalba’s embrace, though this time her heart wasn’t drumming inside her chest; instead, she was soothed down by the beating of his. She felt it, palpitating beneath his armor, and it calmed her, eventually lulling her into a wonderful slumber.

Xibalba accommodated La Muerte in bed when he realized she had fallen asleep, and pulled her duvet over her to keep her warm. He smiled a bit when La Muerte smiled in her sleep, but he knew she wouldn’t heal from this experience, he had to help her a little bit. For the moment, however, he just left his wife to rest. Meanwhile, he’d have to think on what to do with her.

Lately, Xibalba had been thinking… he never really got to know La Muerte before their… marriage. She was the romantic type; he could see her reading romantic novels in her free time with a smile on her face, she loved the tales of princesses being rescued by handsome princes, but most of all of forbidden love affairs, in which the couple was willing to go against everything, be it social or economical pressure, or opposition from their families, they always stuck to their love together, no matter the obstacles.

He had been thinking, perhaps it wouldn’t do bad to ask her out. It sounded silly, being already married and all that, but maybe it would cheer her up, not to mention he could think of no better way to thank her for everything. But he wanted to ask her in a special way, not just simply go and ask her ‘Hey, would you like to go out on a date?’. He had considered various ideas, but deemed them too plain or simple. He needed advice, as much as he disliked the idea. Walking into his study, Xibalba sat down into his desk and took out a paper. He picked up the quill and dabbed the fine point in the black inkbottle, before starting to write to the one person he trusted on this matter. 

My dearest Epona.

You’re going to think I’m crazy for asking you this, but I’d like to ask you for some… Romantic advice. Don’t take me wrong, I don’t have those kind of feelings for my wife, but I’d like to cheer her up after what happened in Aimé’s birthday party, as well as to let her know of my gratefulness for her support. I’m writing to you of all people because of our… past experiences together.

I don’t want something grand, but not too simple either, I just want to make her feel happy. I’ve been thinking on asking her out, but I can’t find a proper way to do it, I know La Muerte is very romantic and she likes details, as small as they cab be. She is not superficial, though, but I still would like to know your opinion on this matter, my dear old friend.

PD: Destroy this letter after reading it.  

Xibalba.

After finishing the letter with his signature, Xibalba placed the quill back on the inker, carefully folding the paper and slipping it into a black envelope. With his green wax holding it shut, he stamped it with an X before heading towards a birdcage on one side of his window, where a raven was perched, resting. While not as much attached to this bird as he was to his snake, hounds and horse, Xibalba still treated it with respect and appreciation. After all, it went far and wide delivering his mail.

Opening the raven’s cage, he allowed it to walk unto his arm, its claws digging into his glove. Xibalba opened the window of his study, and held up the envelope to the raven’s beak, which the bird took without hesitation.

“Go.” The dark god gently motioned his messenger bird out unto the air outside, and watched it fly away swiftly. Humans used pigeons for similar purposes, but gods used different types of birds; he preferred ravens, they were much smarter, elegant and could travel between realms, as a few other species of birds like owls or even hawks. Now he had to wait for a reply.

A few hours later, he finished with just another pile of paperwork when the raven returned, landing just in front of his master, carrying a white envelope with a horse head-shaped seal in gold wax. Xibalba took the envelope from his raven and gave the loyal bird a small biscuit as a reward, before it flew back to its cage. Xibalba gently opened the envelope and slid out the paper, unfolding it and reading the reply.

Dear Xibalba

You don’t have to be embarrasses for it! It’s okay if you’re starting to like a Muerte more than you think, she is a wonderful woman, after all. As for your request, the first thing you should know about women is that they’re emotional, they like gifts, but they don’t care how expensive or cheap it is, all they care is that you be honest and understanding.

You’re a smart man, I’m sure you can think of something. You’re known for your wit and cleverness, as well as your intellect, I’m sure you won’t have any trouble on finding a way to do it. Just try not to abuse it, it can annoy the heck out of her if you overdo it. But the most important thing of all, be yourself. Don’t go around trying to impress her, it’ll make her think you’re superficial.

But don’t worry about it, dear friend. I’m sure you will be able to handle it.

And darling, don’t worry! It’s not like I’d give your letter to a local newspaper, would I?

Epona 

Darn, even in her writings she always had to find a way to annoy him! Still, he reread her words carefully. Gifts, she said, not matter if it was expensive or cheap, rare or common, be it an exquisite jewel or a simple rose and chocolates, all that mattered was the intention. But that was too cliché, and he didn’t want La Muerte to think he was courting her! He just wanted to show her gratitude, not ask her to be his girlfriend! Still, one of Epona’s words had a sort of an impact on him. To be himself…

Now that he thought of it, she had a bit of reason in there. He had noticed it, too.  When he brought her to his castle for the first time all his attempts to seduce her failed miserably, because he was imposing and tried to act all tough and dominating; it wasn’t until he softened up and showed his true self that she started to warm and open up to him.

Xibalba sighed and stroked his beard-an habit he had when he was thinking something thoroughly-, trying to think of a way to ask her. Chocolates? Flowers? No, too cliché. Jewelry? As if, he was not that rich; he had enough to live comfortably, but the Land of the Forgotten was practically a wasteland, the only thing he had to trade was obsidian, and all he traded it for was for food, vegetables and meats not found here. A song or a ballad…?

…

It wasn’t such a bad idea. He could always compose a song for her: not to brag, but he was an exceptional composer, renown through the thirteen realms for his music, heck, not even the Phantom of the Opera himself could be compared to Lord Xibalba. But all the music he composed was dark, melancholic and heart-wrenching; for the first time ever, he would have to compose something light, not necessarily cheerful, but something beautiful, maybe a bit passionate, warm… Xibalba stood up from his desk, grabbed his staff and headed out of his study, towards the organ room. He had started hundreds of musical pieces from scratch before; it couldn’t be that hard.

“Maldita sea!”

With another blow form his tightened fist to the obsidian keys of his organ, making the serpent pipes let out a high-pitched sound similar to a screech, Xibalba wrinkled another sheet of yet another failed attempt of creating a musical piece for La Muerte into a paper ball and threw it aside with the other failed attempts, there was already a pile of wrinkled up papers next to him. Xibalba let out another sigh, rubbing his temples while muttering curses under his breath. Damn it, why was it so hard?!

“My Lord?”

“Not now, Emilio…” Xibalba sighed, trying to calm down.

Emilio and Roberto walked into the organ room after hearing the instrument releasing cries of ‘protest’ from its owner’s frustration, and found their master inside, with a pile of wrinkled papers at his side. Emilio knew that when Xibalba was composing, he hated to be interrupted, but before he could drag his companion away Roberto had already made his way inside. “You seem to have some trouble in your composing, My Lord.”

“Roberto…!” Emilio whined in panic, going after Roberto.

“I can’t get it right… I don’t know why…” Xibalba sighed, allowing his wings to relax and touch the ground, his feathers bristling. “I just… It’s never been so hard.”

Roberto grinned. “It’s for Lady La Muerte, isn’t it?”

“W-What?! How did y-you…?” Xibalba stuttered, his face all red and his grip on the keys tightening. “I d-don’t..!”

“Roberto!” Emilio growled once more.

“Let me guess, you want to compose a song for her but you can’t think of something suitable for her.”

Sometimes he wondered if Roberto had keen senses, mind-reading abilities or simply tried his luck at guessing, but he seemed to know what he was thinking (at times). “Sort of.” Xibalba said.

“Try not to stress yourself too much, My Lord, don’t forget you had an epileptic attack a week ago.”

“Don’t remind me… I was lucky not to break a wing this time.”

“My Lord, if you want to make something for a lady, don’t hold yourself back. Express your feelings in that piece!” Roberto laughed, ignoring Emilio’s faces to motion him to stop. “Let her know you appreciate her!”

“And since when do you know so much about women? The only single woman down here is Regina, and I’ve never seen you serenade her with something.” Emilio stated matter-of-factly, crossing his arms.

“I’d never steal her from a certain someone that is head over heels over her…” Roberto retorted cleverly, giving his fellow lizard a sly look. Emilio immediately blushed and grew nervous.

“What the-?! How dare you-?! I’m not-!”

Xibalba chuckled as he watched Emilio drag Roberto out by the tail, though Roberto didn’t stop teasing him about his crush on Regina. The lizard’s words gave him a bit of an idea, though. Taking another blank music sheet out of a nearby trunk with a wave of his fingers, telepathically placing it on the rack, he started with another composition.

La Muerte woke up when she heard scratching at her door. She instantly knew it was not the lizards, nor Xibalba, not even Ponzoña, that only left one option. Shifting awake in bed, she gently removed the covers off her, and removed the wrinkles in her dress with her hand and put on her hat back on. She walked towards the door and opened, her suspicions confirmed when she saw one of Xibalba’s hounds, Colmillo (or Garra, she still had some difficulty telling them apart) in front of the doorway, ears high, tail wagging and with a rose on his mouth. As soon as she stepped outside, Colmillo stood back up and held out the rose.

“Gracias.” La Muerte smiled as she accepted the flower, though she new who had sent it to her. 

Colmillo spontaneously started trotting away, before stopping a few steps away and looking back at the Goddess with expectant eyes. La Muerte instantly knew the hound wanted her to follow him, so she went after him as he led her through the corridors of the castle, upstairs, and stopped just in front of the organ chamber. She thought she heard music coming from the inside. She knew Xibalba hated to be interrupted when composing, but when Colmillo silently scratched at the door and looked back at her, she took it as a gesture to go inside. Though hesitant, La Muerte grabbed the knob of the door and turned it as silently as she could, pushing it open to take a look inside.

She gasped in surprise with what she found.

There was a small pathway of candles and rose petals that adorned their way to the organ, towards the bench. Xibalba was on the bench, it seemed like he had not yet noticed her presence, he was playing a musical piece on his rack. However, unlike most of his previous works this one was… gentle, almost like a breeze, beautiful, and it expressed affection and tenderness, not anger, hate or sorrow like the times before. La Muerte was drawn by the music, her feet carried her closer to the organ, tentatively approaching the dark god as his fingers flew over and pressed the keys of his organ, tenderly and softly this time. La Muerte froze in place when Xibalba turned to look at her, but became surprised when she found no irritation or annoyance in his face, but a smile.

“Good timing, my dear. I was just thinking about you.”

La Muerte wasn’t certain on what to do now, but she took the hint when her husband made some space on the bench and invited her to sit next to him. La Muerte sat down next to him, and took a better look at the beautiful organ. From this close, it wasn’t as intimidating as the other times she had seen it, maybe because of the warmth the candles offered. Even the candles in the organ were glowing a warm orange yellow instead of the usual green, she wondered if it had something to do with Xibalba’s mood.

“Is it a new one?” La Muerte inquired, noticing the music sheet on the rack.

Xibalba nodded. “Indeed it is. I finished it just last night, and I wanted you to hear it out.”

“It would be my pleasure.”

Shifting on his seat, Xibalba took one single read on the music sheet, before he started to play. La Muerte was impressed at how quick, graceful and gentle his fingers were when pressing on the keys, but what was moving her most was the music. This was not like the other songs he had heard from him, this had no negative emotions expressed on it. It was the contrary, it expressed hope, affection and… was it gratefulness? She couldn’t really tell, but she could hear throughout the song light, gentle tones and tunes, almost like a requiem or a sonata.

La Muerte shivered lightly when she felt something cover her, but relaxed upon recognizing the touch of Xibalba’s wing. Curiously, although they looked all ragged and burnt, the dark god’s wings were actually very soft at touch, almost like a blanket made of swan feathers. And they were very warm too, would be perfect for a cold winter night. The atmosphere was so… romantic… she was so content she didn’t mind using that word for now. She leaned against Xibalba’s shoulder with closed eyes, listening to his beautiful music intently. Soon she realized the song was meant for her, it was a sort of gift. She could tell Xibalba had poured his heart and soul into this piece, and she loved that thing about him.

Unfortunately, the song had to come to an end, an just like it had a hopeful beginning, it had a hopeful end, like the wings of love finally taking flight. When he was done with the piece, Xibalba glanced at his wife with a small smile. “Did you like it?”

“It’s the most beautiful piece you’ve written so far.” La Muerte said, smiling up at him, tentatively reaching out to take his hand. “You truly have a gift.”

“T-Thanks…” Xibalba blushed, his heart skipping a beat upon feeling her gentle hand touching his, he felt her warmth even with his glove on.

“When did you start playing?”

“After I inherited the throne. I needed a stimulating hobby to let out my emotions, and Epona recommended me to try with an instrument. I first tried with string instruments, but my fingers would tangle with the strings, then the wind-instruments, but I did not feel comfortable with flutes or harmonicas, until one day I was wandering through Paris and heard a different instrument playing. It came from Notre Dame. When I went to take a look, I saw a friar playing the organ during a mass, I immediately fell in love with the pipe organ.”

“Did you learn to play by yourself?”

“Mostly, yes.”

“Must be hard.”

“Not really. Once you get used to it, it’s like a piece of cake.” Xibalba gulped. Now was the time. It was now or never. “Say, La Muerte…”

La Muerte looked at him curiously. “What is it?”

“Well, I’ve been thinking…”

“Yes…?”

Damn it! A knot was forming in his tongue when he tried to say the words! He had rehearsed thousands of times and now he couldn’t express those simple words! He felt a nudge at his foot, and subtly glanced down at the ground, where Ponzoña’s two heads were encouraging him to go on.

“Wouldyouliketogooutonadatewithme?” Xibalba smacked his forehead in frustration.

La Muerte blinked in confusion. “What?”

“I…. That’s not… I-B…”

She giggled. “You’re cute when you’re nervous.”

Xibalba took a deep breath, and exhaled, calming his nerves and managing to speak, softly this time as he looked into his wife’s eyes. “I’d like to ask you to go out on a date with me.” His stomach dropped when she gave him a curious but questioning look. “I mean… We never got to… Perhaps we should get to know each other a bit more, don’t you think?”

He was certain she was going to rebuff him. La Muerte remained silent for a few minutes, processing his words. Was he asking her out? She couldn’t believe it, and yet she was the happiest woman when she heard those words, though she wasn’t certain of why. Still, she thought it wouldn’t do bad to give it a try.

“I’d like to.”

Xibalba was about to sigh in disappointment when he heard a positive reply, instead of the negative answer he had been expecting (and was prepared for). She said yes… Dijo que si! Yes! Yesyesyesyes! He was not the type to jump around in joy when happy, but it didn’t mean he didn’t grin sheepishly. La Muerte noticed he looked embarrassed, so she decided to try and change the subject, glancing back at the keys of the organ. She was tempted to press one, but she thought she should ask for permission first. “Xibalba, may I…?”

“Of course.”

Though hesitating at first, La Muerte tentatively reached out her hand for one of the key and pressed it, but quickly retreated when the pipe let out the screeching tune. Xibalba chuckled and took her hands tenderly. “Allow me…”

“W-Wait…”

La Muerte blushed deeply when Xibalba gently took her hands in his larger ones and took them to the keys of the organ. Gently he pressed her fingers against some keys, and the pipes released soft but still slightly-screeching notes. La Muerte relaxed as she allowed the dark god to guide her hands and fingers, playing a small melody. The both of them were blushing deeply, and the closeness was making them shiver internally, but overall were enjoying each other’s company. Heck, they could even say they liked to be this close, though they wouldn’t admit it outloud.

“You’re a great teacher, Xibalba…” La Muerte whispered, leaning against his shoulder once again.

Xibalba returned the smile, wrapping his wing around her. “I have an excellent student…”

Okay, everyone! The next chap will be what you’ve been waiting for! (Sort of). I’m accepting suggestions for a romantic date (and the first) between these two. I already have that it’ll take place in three places: Paris, Venice and Barcelona. I’d appreciate some help!

Well, see you on the next chap!

Chapter Text

Her first date ever.

Due to her father’s overprotectiveness and old traditions, La Muerte had never had a date before, and so naturally she was very nervous. She spent all morning trying to figure out what to wear, but when she picked something a few minutes later she’d find a defect in the dress and start all over again, and she was wasting precious time on it. She had already chosen and discarded over ten of her favorite dresses, she just couldn’t make up her mind! It was her first day ever and she wanted to look at her very best. She envied Xibalba, he surely didn’t have as much trouble in choosing what to wear, men were not as picky with those things.

Finally deciding to rest a bit from taking dresses in and out of the wardrobe for the moment, La Muerte went to her boudoir and sat down to admire her reflection at the mirror. She had no idea of why she was so obsessed with her outfit if she had always thought that what mattered was not one’s appearance, but what’s inside one’s heart. Maybe she wanted Xibalba to think she was pretty… Heck, she couldn’t even get the thought out of her head! The goddess unconsciously took her hand to her mother’s pendant, as if asking for advice. She wondered how her first date with her father had been like.

“Milady?”

La Muerte sighed. “Come in, Regina.”

The female lizard silently walked inside and saw the collection of dresses on top of the bed, immediately assuming what was wrong. “Having difficulty in finding something appropriate to wear, right?”

“I don’t know why it’s so difficult! All I want is a decent dress, but I just can’t find the right one…” La Muerte was close to ripping them to pieces in frustration. “It’s the first date I’ve ever had…”

“What matters is not only how pretty a dress is, what matters is the significance it has to oneself.”

“I guess you’re right in that one… Xibalba is so lucky…”

Regina chuckled in amusement. “You have not seen him yet. He’s freaking out.”

“He is?” La Muerte nearly giggled at the comment. “He can’t decide on what to wear either?”

“Not exactly about the outfit, it just he has never gone out on a date either.” Regina sighed with a grin. “He has hung around ladies before, but not like this. Naturally he’s very nervous that he’ll mess up.”

“I can guess…” La Muerte thought for a moment, before looking back at her wardrobe. Maybe… “Well, there is a dress I have always been saving for a special occasion.” The goddess whispered, heading towards her wardrobe and taking out a beautiful dress from within.

Regina stared at it with wide eyes of wonder. “It’s beautiful, milady. The most beautiful dress I’ve ever seen.”

“My mother once said she wore it during one of her first dates with Father. She said she’d save it for me when I went on my first date…” her eyes were swelling up with tears. “And she did…”

“It will look beautiful on you, milady. It needs a few retouches, but I can bet Lord Xibalba will be agape when he sees you.”

“Could you lend me a hand? It’s been so long since I’ve sewn something that I’m out of practice.” La Muerte blushed.

Regina smiled. “Don’t worry, milady. Years of sewing Lord Xibalba’s cloaks have given me quite the experience.”

5 hours later, 6:00 P.M.

“Do I look good?”

Ponzoña rolled his eyes-the two pairs- in annoyance, and hissed in approval for the fifth time. For the first time ever, Xibalba would be wearing a suit. Only the jacket, but a suit nonetheless. It consisted of a jet black silk jacket over a purple waistcoat, with single-breasted buttons, dark gray notched lapel and trimmed aqua green bones at the sides. There were matching shoulder boards at his sides, with short, adorning purple epaulettes. Instead of his normal leather gloves, he wore aqua green formal gloves that matched his suit. For once, his crown wouldn’t accompany him, instead he left it resting in its showcase on his chambers. It was his formal suit, which he barely used except when it was strictly necessary.

“Sorry, it’s just…” Xibalba sighed, shifting his wings. “I’ve never used this thing before, what if she thinks it’s ridiculous?”

Ponzoña shook both heads.

“I know, old friend. Maybe I’m exaggerating, but I’ve never been on a date before!” he blushed sheepishly when Ponzoña glanced at him with a ‘is that so?’ look. “Hey, those other times didn’t count! They weren’t even formal dates, just…”

“Um, My Lord…”

“What?!” Xibalba yelled unintentionally, before realizing what he just did. The dark god sighed. “Sorry, Luis.”

The lizard relaxed, and spoke once again. “Sorry for interrupting, My Lord, but Lady La Muerte is ready for you.”

Finally. “Okay, old friend, wish me luck.” Xibalba sighed, glancing at Ponzoña and accommodating his suit once more time before heading out of his study, and towards the grand hall. He was just making his way towards the doors when he saw her.

Tonight she looked beautiful, almost like an angel coming down from heaven into his cold, dark hell. La Muerte wore a beautiful red dress with a velvety look to it, he had never seen her wear it before. It had off-shoulder long sleeves that reached up to her wrists, and it had a mermaid silhouette with a bit of trumped at the edges of the skirt. Her trademark marigold flowers adorned her sleeves, the edge of her bodice and it ran down the front of the dress and unto the edge of the long skirt. The skirt was parted in the middle, exposing a bit of her legs, also adorned with lots of marigolds.

Her long dark hair combed more than usual, and it had beautiful curls in perfect harmony, as well as two loose curls of hair on her face, and one of her yellow flowers resting on it. For her footwear, she wore red leather shoes with middle-heels. Though she never used make up, her face markings and her cherry red lips made her look like she had spent hours on it, but it didn’t make her look less beautiful.

La Muerte walked down the stairs towards her husband, and noticed how he was looking at her. Xibalba was speechless, amazed by the striking beauty in front of him, he swore his heart would burst out of his chest at any moment. La Muerte giggled when she saw his bewildered expression.

“What? Say something.”

“I… I-B….” Xibalba managed to regain his composure. “My apologies, but you look radiant tonight, my dear.”

It was La Muerte’s turn to blush now. “Gracias…”

“All ready to go?”

“Whenever you say, Im ready.”

Xibalba smiled and held out a hand for her to take, back to his smooth, charismatic self. “Shall we?”

She took his hand gently, shivering when she noticing once again how they were much larger than hers. “Let’s go.”

“Just hang on tie.”

Before La Muerte could react, she was pulled gently into Xibalba’s embrace as he wrapped his wings around her, and then there was an abrupt flash of light that made her bury her face into his neck to shield her eyesight form harm. A few seconds later, she felt Xibalba’s hold on her soften. “You can open your eyes now, my dear.”

La Muerte was about to lash out gently at him for teleporting her like that without even telling her, but she found herself admiring the sight. She could tell they were in the Land of the Living, but not in Mexico, not even in America! The people in the carriages, the French calligraphy announcing stores, restaurants and other places of interest, and the Eiffel tower in the distance…

“Is this Paris?”

“I guessed it would be interesting to show you around Europe’s most popular places, Paris being the first one.” Xibalba chuckled, looking around at the scenery. “Guess where we are.”

La Muerte looked down and gasped in fright when she realized they were in a very high roof, much taller than most of the houses around, but not enough to surpass the Eiffel towel. She noticed there was a twin structure next to this balcony to the right, and there was a small plaza down there… “Notre Dame?”

“And we have a winner!”

“Couldn’t you have transported us to the ground level?”

“Where’s the fun in that? Besides, I wanted you to enjoy the view.” Xibalba chuckled, half-prepared to receive small smack, but La Muerte only rolled her eyes amusingly. “By the way, we should be going or we’ll lose the reservation.”

She blinked. “Reservation?”

“I didn’t bring you only to sightsee, my dear, you must be hungry, am I right?”

“Now that you mention, I was so busy in getting ready I didn’t get to eat anything.”

“Good. Hang on tight.”

La Muerte grabbed unto her husband’s arm as he snapped his fingers, and they teleported once again, this time to Champs le Mars, where the Eiffel tower was located. She looked upwards in amazement, it was so much larger this close, the thought not even the highest Aztec pyramid could ever be compared to this structure.

“Why did we come to the Eiffel tower? I thought you’d said we would eat.”

“We will, my dear.”

Both gods took human form-they still wore the same clothing-, which wasn’t much different from their godly forms. La Muerte had the appearance of a young woman with long dark hair and fair skin, while Xibalba looked like a dignified young man despite his white moustache, beard and hair, with light brown skin. However, the both of them were attractive in human standards. Xibalba led his wife towards one of the feet of the towers, were a private lift took people up to a certain level of the Eiffel tower. Humans were walking around the park either strolling or going for the restaurants of the Eiffel tower.

But La Muerte grew confused when they walked past the lift that would take them upwards. “Xibalba, the lift is over there.”

“The human lift is over there. I’m taking you to a much nicer place, my dear.” Xibalba replied, taking her hand and leading her to another of the legs of the humongous structure, this one less frequented by the mortals. None of the humans had apparently noticed, but there was a man wearing a suit standing guard at the side of the iron structure. When they approached, Xibalba’s eyes flashed red, and the man noticed.

“Bonjour, Lord Xibalba.” The man said, bowing slightly to greet the dark god. “We’ve been expecting you.”

La Muerte was confused as to what was going on, but suddenly a light glowed and the door of a lift appeared, but again none of the humans were noticing. Xibalba led her inside the lift, and the doors closed.

“Mind telling me what’s going on?” she inquired curiously.

“The humans are not the only ones here, you know.” Xibalba explained. “the New World gods don’t know this, but when Europe started to modernize some of the European pantheons decided to do so as well, if only a bit. This is a gourmet restaurant parallel to the one the humans have, but it’s for gods and spirits only.”

“How is it called?”

Xibalba smirked as the doors of the lift opened, and once more led her into an indoors space. “Welcome to Le Champs Elysées.”

Again, the amazement was nearly too much for her to handle. It was a beautiful restaurant inside the Eiffel tower, it looked like those fancy French restaurants she had seen casually in books, the tables were adorned with pure white mantles, plates and sets of utensils, as well as two cups on each place. Most of them were occupied by either gods or fae such as elves, satyrs, fairies and many other creatures humans only thought of in their imagination, though the gods were in their human forms. La Muerte recognized a few gods either from books or from the Egyptian pantheon.

Apparently, Xibalba was so well known they had a regular table for him to sit, just next tone of the windows that overlooked the entire city; for this occasion it was decorated with lit aromatic candles and a small vase with blue roses. Xibalba pulled back the chair for his wife to seat, before taking a seat across her, then a fairy waitress handed them a menu.

“It’s in French, don’t they have one in Spanish?” La Muerte inquired after taking a read at the first entrées in the foreign language.

“Don’t worry, I’ll lend you a hand in ordering. But whatever you do, don’t ask for escargot.”

“What is it?”

“Snails.”

La Muerte shivered in dismay at the thought of eating those. “So, what do you recommend?”

“Well, all food here is good, but I can order for you if you’d like.”

“Yes, thank you.”

La Muerte looked around at the other Gods and Goddesses as they chatted casually. “By the way, why is everyone here in their human guise if the humans don’t know we are here?”

“Long story. The brief version, it’s much less intimidating for the lower spirits and fae, so it was decreed that Gods and Goddesses had to take on a human shape to eat here.”

“I don’t know why Father never told us about this place. It looks pleasant.”

“For dates it is.” Xibalba blushed at this. “For family dinners, not so much.”

Soon the same fairy waitress from before came to take their orders. La Muerte felt a bit out of place when Xibalba started talking with the fairy in French, she never imagined he’d be so fluent at it. Xibalba ordered them the quite a few dishes for the courses, considering rations here were very small. French onion soup for Hors d’oeuvre, boeuf bourguignon, a few cheeses and Beaujolais wine for the main course, macaroons and éclairs for the patisserie and finally some café liégeois and crème brulée for dessert. La Muerte was initially startled at how much food they had brought, but soon she saw why. Most portions were quite scarce, except for the main course.

“These dishes are so well-cooked and in harmony with the spices, I’d love to have the recipe.” La Muerte commented, slicing a bit of her meat and taking it into her mouth, and there was a party of flavors inside her palate.

“Regina would too. She likes gourmet cooking.” Xibalba chuckled, taking a sip from his water glass. “I’m a fan of it as well, in fact.”

“I can see that.”

Chuckling, they continued to chat during the Hors d’oeuvre and the main course, by the time they were at the patisserie, and then dessert, they were in a deep conversation.

“Why do French dishes have so little food?” La Muerte wondered outloud; she had eaten quite a lot and she still didn’t feel full.

“Culture, I guess.” Xibalba sighed, continuing to take spoonful from his café liégeois, wiping his lips with the napkin. “Sometimes makes me miss my mother’s cooking.”

La Muerte could tell he could now talk about his mother with no problem at all. “I guess her cooking was good if you say so.”

“Good? No one could cook like her; she poured her heart and soul into her food. I loved it. Don’t tell Regina this, but not even her food can be compared to mom’s.”

“Why not? You don’t want her to get offended?”

“She’s prideful in that sense, she feels proud about her cooking. And many other things. I have never admitted this to anyone, but Regina has been like a second mother to me like Emilio has been like a father.”

“By the way, I’ve been hearing that Emilio has a crush on Regina?”

Xibalba chuckled. “Emilio doesn’t want to admit it, but yes.”

At about half past eight o’clock, Xibalba paid the bill and once more led La Muerte through the restaurant, into the balcony. Nearly all of Paris was below them, it was truly a beautiful sight.

“Ay, Xibalba, it’s truly beautiful.” La Muerte smiled, leaning against her husband’s chest.

“I’m glad you like it, my dear. The sight from here is one of the most beautiful in the world.

The goddess made out of sugar glanced at Xibalba’s dark wings curiously, wondering if he could fly. They looked all burn and ragged after all, maybe they couldn’t support his weight. “Xibalba…”

“What is it?”

“Do you fly?”

“Well, I haven’t flown in years. My wings are not like they used to be, but they have never failed me. I know I can count on them.” The dark god replied, revealing his dark wings and stretching them proudly.

“How does it feel like to fly?”

“It’s the best thing you can ever experience. You feel free, unrestrained, like nothing can stop you.” Xibalba had an idea, and grinned in delight. “But why describe it when I can show you?”

“What do you-?” La Muerte yelped in surprise when out of sudden Xibalba picked her up bridal style and held her tightly against his chest. “Xibalba?!”

“Don’t worry, I will go easy on you.” He stretched out his wings, and jumped off the balcony.

“XIBALBAAAA!”

When he had reached his desired speed, Xibalba stretched out his wings and allowed the wind under his feathers to lift him higher. La Muerte clung to his neck and buried her face into his chest, completely terrified. Xibalba beat his wings to go a little higher, before glancing down at his terrified wife. “Take a look.”

“Are you nuts?! Forget it!”

“Trust me, I’m not letting you fall.”

La Muerte tightened her grip on Xibalba’s shoulders, and finally gathered the courage to turn her head and look below. For one moment she was afraid of the height, but then it dissipated and she felt the safety of Xibalba’s embrace. The wind caressed her face gently, and her long hair flowed behind her like silk, and the sight of the ground far below them no longer felt scary, but fascinating. Soon she was laughing in delight, even going as far as to release one arm and touch the air as they flew.

Even though they were already high in the sky, Xibalba felt like he was soaring even higher when he heard her laughing. It had been so long ever since he flew like this, and with company. Maybe he had just noticed, but her smile made his heart flutter and he just loved her laugh. She looked so happy as she looked down at the scenery.

La Muerte had never felt so free in her entire life. When she looked up at Xibalba, she saw there was a change in his expression. He looked like he was enjoying this, like he was in his true calling, he also felt free and unrestrained. When their eyes locked in each other’s gaze, there was a small spark, a feeling of warmth in their chests and the sudden desire to remain like this. After a little bit more of flying, Xibalba reluctantly snapped out of the dreaming daze he was in. “Hang on.”

“Where are we going now?”

“You’ll see.”

Having the feeling they would teleport yet again, La Muerte closed her eyes shut, and her suspicions were confirmed when out of sudden she felt waves of energy rippling the space-time around them, and when she opened her eyes, she realized the city of Paris was gone, and was replaced by countryside that extended through miles below them. Xibalba felt his wings starting to tire and he started to descend, slowly as to not scare the heck out of his wife (again) landing just in the middle of a cornfield. His wings disappeared into his human glamour.

“Where are we now?” La Muerte inquired, looking around at the beautiful scenery.

“This is the countryside just around Barcelona, Spain. It’s perfect for horseback.”

“Horseback?”

Still grinning, Xibalba took his fingers to his mouth and gave a long whistle. La Muerte was confused for a moment, before she heard neighing and hoofbeats on the grass. She glanced at the direction they came from just in time to see their horses-also in normal horse glamour- galloping towards them, stopping a few steps away. “How did they get here?”

“I have tricks up my sleeve, you know.” Xibalba said, patting Medianoche’s neck when he came closer. “How about it? Want to take a look around?”

“I don’t see why not.”

They mounted their horses and led them through the fields, forests and roads, sometimes passing by villas. Xibalba thought for a moment, and glanced towards a direction, before grinning. “Can you keep up with me?”

“What do you mean?”

“Follow me.”

Xibalba steered his horse to the left and spurred it into a gallop, towards an open field. La Muerte figured what he wanted to do, and was soon galloping after her husband, through and a vineyard, the both of them laughing the whole time. La Muerte had never had so much fun, she was enjoying this date very much, she couldn’t wait to tell her sister about it. When they were nearing a stone fence, Xibalba and Medianoche jumped over it with no problem; La Muerte was about to brake her horse in fright, but she didn’t want to get behind again during a race with Xibalba, and tightened her grip on the reins, swallowing her fear the best she could. She closed her eyes shut when Blanca leapt over the fence and landed perfectly on the ground, continuing with her canter.

Xibalba laughed and steered Medianoche a bit closer to his wife. “Haha, not bad for your first jump!”

“T-thank you!” La Muerte stuttered, still bewildered.

“Come along! We’re almost there!”

When Xibalba steered his horse towards the forest, La Muerte followed after him, though he had slowed his steed into a trot, prompting her to do the same. As they were about to go into the forest, La Muerte noticed this part was far from any human settlement. “Where are we going?”

“It’s a nice place to relax, Epona brought me here once.” Xibalba replied, and judging by his blush she could guess what they had done here. “You’re going to like it.”

He parted open the small ‘curtain’ of  branches and leaves.

La Muerte gasped.

Chapter Text

  The clearing had to be the most beautiful she had ever seen.

It was in the middle of the forest, and there was a single willow tree in the middle whose leaves almost reached down to the grass,, and were rocked gently by the night breeze. There were patches of wild flowers growing through the grass and a large pond adorned with water lilies and watergrass. There were maybe dozens or maybe hundreds of fireflies flying around, giving the atmosphere a warm air, making her feel in something close or even better than paradise.

“Xibalba, this is beautiful.” She whispered as they dismounted and Xibalba sent the horses away, probably back home.

“I don’t come here often, but I see it hasn’t changed much ever since the last time I was here.” Xibalba sighed, looking around the place. Blushing, he took La Muerte’s hand and led her under the willow tree. She was taking in the beautiful scenery, taking a hand to her chest in delight.

“Europe sure has the most beautiful landscapes.”

“And you haven’s seen Japan’s.” Xibalba commented. “Specially in Spring when cherry blossoms mature and their flowers scatter around with the wind.” He and his wife sat down under the willow, leaning against its bark. “It’s truly beautiful.”

“You’ve been in Japan too?”

“Only once. Lord Izanagi had heard of my reputation and wanted to test my sword fighting skills. But during the time I stayed there I could admire the scenery.”

“Is there a place you haven’t visited yet?”

“Antarctica, maybe.” Both laughed. “I admit, I’ve travelled quite a lot when I was young, but I never really enjoyed it. I only wanted to get away from my castle, it brought me too many painful thoughts.”

“Reminded you of your mother?”

“Most of the time. It felt empty without her around. Eventually I had to get the crown and it kept me in the castle most of the time.”

“Xibalba, may I ask you something?”

“What is it?”

“How did you and Epona meet?”

“It’s a long story.” Xibalba chuckled. “When I first came to Europe during the wars, I had nowhere to stay, the first night I disguised as a human and went to a bar in Scotland. I met a lovely lady there who invited me to a drink. We went for a walk and she got a little too… affectionate. At that time I was young and, well…” he blushed deeply. “Well, you can imagine what happened.”

La Muerte tied the knots. “That was Epona?”

“She was. I was surprised at first, but she invited me to stay over at her castle for the night. The next day we chatted, and over the next few days we grew closer. Well, you should guess the rest of the history.”

La Muerte was surprisingly not annoyed by the comment, but instead giggled. She leaned against her husband’s shoulder, blushing when he wrapped an arm around her. Xibalba blushed, pulling her closer to keep her somewhat warm.

She snuggled deeply against Balby’s dark wings as he embraced her and pulled her close to keep her warm from the snow that fell from the sky, cuddled up under the tree in Aztlan’s courtyard. “I love you being my friend, Balby.” 

He smiled at her and, as always, didn’t utter a word, resting his chin on her head.

La Muerte subtly snapped out of the memory and came back to the real world, confused as to why she had recalled that moment with her childhood sweetheart from so many years ago.

Just then, a pair of mute swans, one black and the other white, swam by in the pond, followed by five beautiful cygnets. The birds climbed out of the water and approached the couple of gods, staring at them curiously, though the black swan-probably the cob- was wary and spread out his wings lightly, letting out hisses, warning them to stay away from his family.

“Cool it down, pal.” Xibalba frowned at it. “We came here first.”

“It’s okay, Xibalba, they’re just probably coming to rest.”

One of the cygnets walked closer to La Muerte, and even went as far as to rub its head against her lap. The goddess giggled and carefully stroked its small head with a finger, careful not to provoke the cob. Soon the other cygnets approached when they found the goddess was not a threat. Even the cob and pen relaxed, lying down a few steps away and watching over their cygnets. Xibalba grumbled something under his breath as he watched La Muerte play gently with the cygnets, stroking their heads and letting them climb unto her lap.

“What do you see in those birds?” Xibalba sighed, crossing his arms.

“They’re cute.”

“I don’t find anything cute in them.”

La Muerte glanced at the pen, and the gleam in the bird’s eyes seemed to have a positive reply to what she wanted to ask. She gently picked one of the cygnets in her hands and then held it out for Xibalba.

“What the-? What are you doing?” Xibalba glanced at her like she was crazy. “I’m not going to grab that animal!”

“Come on, Xibalba, it’s not going to bite you!”

“It’s not that, but…”

“It’s just a cygnet, you’re not going to kill it or anything.”

Although still reluctant, Xibalba finally relented and took the cygnet from La Muerte’s hands as gently as he could. The little bird was initially nervous in the dark god’s less friendly expression, and trembled; Xibalba tried to calm it down a bit by stroking its head with his thumb. A few minutes later, the baby bird calmed down, and rubbed its small head against Xibalba’s thumb. Xibalba couldn’t help but smile a bit.

After a while, however, the cob and pen soon called out for their cygnets, and the little ones scattered towards their parents.  The cygnet in Xibalba’s hands chirped and honked as it flapped its tiny wings, calling out for its mother and father.

“Off you go, pequeño.” Xibalba sighed, lowering his hands so the cygnet could hop off into the grass and go after its family. The two gods watched as the swans returned to the water and swam away, probably back to the nest to spend the night.

“See? It was not so bad.” La Muerte said, smiling at him.

“I admit, it was a bit cute.”

“So, what do you want to do now?”

“Well, there’s one last place I’d like to show you.”  Xibalba got to his feet and helped his wife stand up as well, he pulled her close and one more his wings emerged from his glamour and wrapped around her. “Hang on tight.”

La Muerte hung on tight as she felt the energy fizzling and spinning around them, and close her eyes shut when the blinding light flashed yet again. When the energy dissipated, she opened her eyes and once again she found they were on the rooftop of a house, but she noticed something was going on. All the streets were lively decorated, she heard music coming from various part in the city and people was wearing disguises and masks, large groups gathered in plazas and played games or danced. “Where are we now, Xibalba?”

“Welcome to Venice, my dear.”

“V-Venice? The city of water?”

“And just in time for the carnival. It’s a mortal celebration, but don’t be surprised if you find some gods around here. It’s famous among the European pantheons for its… location.”

“Can we take a look?”

“I didn’t bring you only for watching, dear La Muerte! Come along!”

With a laugh, both gods subtly teleported into an alley to emerge in their glamour once more, this time wearing masks; Xibalba a Medico della peste mask, while La Muerte had a red and elaborate colombina mask. The two strolled through the streets and bridges of the city, admiring its water canals and the celebration going on around them; Xibalba subtly glanced at his wife when he thought she was not looking, though thankfully his mask hid his face from view and she didn’t see him blush when se turned to see him and he pretended his attention was somewhere else. They tasted a few pastries and snacks from one of the many food stands, and La Muerte took part in the activities gladly.

When she did, Xibalba waited for her leaning against the wall, watching as she enjoyed herself and interacted with humans willingly and gladly. She was always happy when around humans, or the deceased spirits of humans, he loved humanity as a whole. That’s one thing he still couldn’t understand about her, why did she love humans so much? They lied, they betrayed their comrades and blood brothers for coin, they murdered and plundered whatever they could get their hands on, and yet she thought them pure. But he didn’t mind it anymore, as long as she was happy so was he. Finally, after the latest game was over, La Muerte returned to her husband’s side, giggling.

“Ay, Xibalba, why do you have to be such a party pooper?” she laughed, leaning against the wall after playing ring around the rosie with some children.

“I do not like games, and I do not like children.”

“Why not, Xibalba? They’re cute.”

“They’re annoying.”

“You say so because you have never had children.” Xibalba shifted uncomfortably, and La Muerte knew she had said the wrong words. “Sorry.”

“Don’t worry about it.” He decided to change the subject. “Anyway, come along, you can’t  leave Venice without having taking a tour through the grand canal.” Taking his wife’s hand, Xibalba led La Muerte away from the celebration and towards the docks near the gran canal, where a single lone gondola was. Xibalba helped La Muerte climb and sit down unto the gondola, before releasing its ties and hopping unto it to take a seat next to La Muerte, to which she grew confused. “Don’t we need someone to row?”

“No need, my dear. I’ve got… methods.” With a snap of his fingers, the gondola seemingly took life and floated back away from the docks all by itself, then it proceeded to go along the Grand Canal at a slow pace. La Muerte was marveled at the sight of the moonlight and stars reflecting on the surface of the water, the peace and quiet, but overall the romantic air, snuggling against Xibalba’s embrace.

Surprisingly, he didn’t feel annoyed by this, he enjoyed it. For the first time ever since Selena passed on he felt… loved, he felt he could count on someone to listen to his fears and put them to rest. He was tempted to kiss her, but he fought against the urge, he did not want his tarry lips to leave a mark on her beautiful, sugary skin, and yet he was curious about it. After a long while, he mentally led the gondola into a nearby dock, and once more helped his wife to her feet.

“Come along, there’s one last place I’d like to show you.”

“Another city?”

“No, it’s actually a place here.” He grinned and gave La Muerte a playful look. “Can you keep up with me?” with this he turned into a ball of tar and zipped away through the rooves.

La Muerte took it as a challenge and grinned as she lifted her skirts. “You’re on!”

She turned into a blur of flower petals and darted after him, they zigzagged through the water canals and rooves of Venice, laughing all the while, unseen and unheard by the unaware humans. They came to the beautiful and enormous building just next to one of the canals and with a plaza right in front of it.  There was a very numerous crowd of people down there, a sea of colors and costumes as well as music playing as they continued with the celebration. The two gods landed in the rooftop of the cathedral, now in their godly forms.

“Where is this, Xibalba?” La Muerte couldn’t help but ask, watching down at the parading people.

“Judging by the angel statues and the Saint monument, I’d guess we’re right on top of St. Mark’s basilica.” Xibalba concluded, staring at the angels in disgust. “A bit ironic, if you think about it, considering we’re pagan gods.”

“Just because Most humans have shifted their belief to a new religion doesn’t mean they have forgotten about us, you know.”

“Not about you, my dear. I, on the other hand, don’t even have a formal name. Heck, I don’t even exist for humans! Speaking about the King of the Forgotten, I think that title does fit me…”

La Muerte tried to change the subject, but before she could say something the music from below changed from a lively tune to a solemn, elegant waltz, and immediately a great part of the sea parted, except for the couples who started to dance to in time with the rhythm of the music.

“About time, that music was starting to give me a headache.” Xibalba sighed in relief, rubbing his temples, before glancing at La Muerte and once again seeing that spark in her eyes that he loved so much. He didn’t know if it was the right thing to do, but something told him it was. With a flirty smile, he held out a hand for his wife. “Would you grant me this piece, milady?”

Although she couldn’t help but blush deeply at the request, La Muerte smiled as she accepted his invitation. “I’d be honored, milord.”

He led her to the center of the rooftop, where there were no statues (thank heaven) so they could dance freely. Carefully, he pulled his wife close by the waist and held her hand with the other while she placed her free hand on his shoulder. When they started to waltz in time with the music from below, they gazed into each other’s eyes, both with serene and tender expressions, their lips gently curved up into a small smile.

That moment it was like time stopped for the couple. It was just the two of them upon that place, dancing in rhythm with the solemn waltz, Xibalba twirling his wife around when he heard the music indirectly signal him to do so, and she giggled everytime, it always made his heart flutter. La Muerte had never felt so loved this way, she had danced with some gods during her youth, but none of them had made her feel this way. They were lost into each other’s eyes, wishing this moment could last forever. She was so happy she couldn’t help but rest her head against Xibalba’s chest, closing her eyes and relaxing, then her hands instinctively sliding from his hold and shoulder to rest upon his chest as well. Xibalba didn’t know how, but he knew he was supposed to hold her close, and he did. The fuzzy feeling in his chest arose yet again as he felt her breathing against him, and he smiled in delight at it.

“Oh La Muerte…” he thought, his gaze not leaving his wife. “Ever since you came into my life I don’t feel alone anymore… You’ve come to enlighten my heart… I feel a warmth in my chest… I had never felt before…” His cheeks turned red as he gently led his gloved fingers to La Muerte’s chin and lifted her gaze to meet his. Those eyes, those beautiful golden orbs that reflected a purity and sweetness that captivated him.

La Muerte was thinking similarly, staring into those skull-shaped red irises that, despite looking menacing, showed tenderness and love she never thought she’d see. Again, both gods felt the spark from before.

“La Muerte…” the dark god whispered, bringing a hand to her cheek and stroking it with her thumb.

“Xibalba…” the sugar goddess brought her hand up to his chest, where she could feel his heart beating like mad.

They didn’t know what came over them, or what happened, but they what happened next marked them both forever.

Both gods leaned their faces closer, closing their eyes as their lips touched.

Just then, a fireworks were shot into the sky and exploded into a colorful display, but they didn’t mind. All they were thinking about was their lips touching, tasting each other. La Muerte felt the taste of her husband’s tarry lips, but she didn’t mind it, she was enjoying it. Xibalba, on the other hand, felt ecstasy on the taste of cherry of the sugar goddess’s lips, enjoying every second of it. Their cheeks were red, and felt warm at touch.

To them it felt like an eternity, but a few minutes later they had to pull back to take some air. When they did, they were blushing, and didn’t know what to say, they pulled back momentarily, feeling rather awkward.

“I guess it’s your first kiss, isn’t it?” Xibalba inquired, rubbing the back of his head in embarrassment.

“It is.” She said with a flaring blush.

“So…” he couldn’t believe he was asking this. “Was it like you imagined it would be?”

La Muerte thought. She always imagined her first kiss to be… magical, to feel the love of her pair with only one touch, to feel his warmth as he embraced her. And Xibalba had done just that; sure, they didn’t meet or marry in the best of circumstances, but he was making up for it in the most tender ways.

“No.” she said, and caught the look of hurt in her husband’s gaze, before she smiled and once more rested her head against his chest. “It was much better.”

Xibalba felt a great weight being lifted off his chest when she said those words. It mean she had liked it, and frankly he liked it as much or even more. He looked up at the sky and realized it was past midnight. “It’s getting late. We should head back.”

“You’re right. We should go…” La Muerte was exhausted, so much she didn’t protest when Xibalba picked her up bridal style. She recalled he had held her like this once, when she temporally lost her mind on the wine tasting, and he took her to her room. Wrapping his wings around her, the dark god teleported back to the main hall of his castle, and then headed towards his wife’s room, careful not to move her much. By the time he had entered her chambers, she was falling asleep. Carefully, Xibalba lay La Muerte down on her bed, and pulled her covers over her. As he was about to leave her to rest, she opened her eyes lightly. “Xibalba?”

“What is it?” he asked her gently. “Do you need anything else?”

La Muerte shook her head, and smiled drowsily. “Thanks for everything.”

He returned the smile. “You’re welcome, my dear.”

With that, La Muerte allowed her exhaustion to take over and she fell into a deep slumber, snuggling against her pillows and covers. Smiling, Xibalba quietly made his way out of the room, and silently closed the doors shut to let her rest. When he was out, he couldn’t contain his excitement and happiness any longer.

“SÍ!” He laughed, flying around the halls of his castle happily and in ecstasy. “Si, si, si, si!” He kissed her! He had kissed her! He had never been so happy!

“My Lord?” Emilio rushed out of the armory where he had been polishing his master’s old weapons when he heard him yelling, but yelped in surprise when out of sudden Xibalba picked him up by the waist. He was further freaked out when he saw his master’s bright expression.

“I kissed her, Emilio! I kissed her!” Xibalba was laughing, twirling the lizard around in the air before placing him back on the ground and flying away to his chambers, laughing all the way. Emilio was frozen in utter confusion and shock, Xibalba had never acted in such a way. It seemed things had gone quite well in their date. 

Xibalba flew into his chambers, startling Ponzoña awake and making the snake slip from its hat stand. The dark god undressed with a snap of his finger, partly relieved to have finally removed that suit, and plopped unto his bed, still grinning goofily. Ponzoña’s heads glanced at each other in confusion, wondering what was wrong with his master.

Yet, if he was happy, it must be for a reason.

Chapter Text

Emilio, Regina and the rest of the lizards couldn’t believe what was going on. The Xibalba they knew, the serious, cold and standoff King they knew was changing, almost as if he was changing back into the sweet boy they once knew. When he was in his study he’d often have that goofy smile on his face, his mind was almost always elsewhere as he’d often ignore what they said, or was so distracted he misunderstood their words. And more often than not Emilio managed to catch a glance at the blank paper on the dark god’s desk and find a heart with La Muerte’s name written on it various times. The lizard would smile in knowing, and soon it was evident what was going on in his master’s mind.

He had fallen in love.

For the first time in his life, he felt love.

Now he’d try to spend as much time with his wife as possible. Even La Muerte had noticed the change in him, he was so different from the god she met almost a year ago. Sure, sometimes he’d still drive her mad, but other than that their relationship was changing for the better. He was very tender and affectionate, though he still kept his distance to some extent, and for some reason this bothered her. Ever since they kissed on that magical night, she wanted to taste him more, he wanted that he taste her more, but everytime she tried, whenever she gave him subtle signs that he could touch her, he’d always retreat and change the topic.

She herself didn’t know why she had changed just like that. Months ago she didn’t want him to touch her, and now that she did he just wouldn’t take the first step. It was as if he was afraid of doing it, which was quite ironical considering how he had been dying to have her during the first days of their marriage… Speaking of which, she recalled there was a certain matter they had not settled yet.

Knocking the doors of her husband’s study, La Muerte called out for him through the thick obsidian door. “Xibalba?” She thought she hear him yelp, and heard something going on inside the room, rushing and papers flying and other things, before it went quiet again.

“Come in!”

La Muerte turned the knob of the door and pushed it open to step inside. She found Xibalba on his desk with a nervous expression, doing his best to appear calm. “L-La Muerte? How are you doing?”

“Just coming to say hi.” She said, giggling at his expression. “You’re cute when you’re nervous, by the way.”

“I’m not nervous!”

“You’re blushing.”

“It’s…” Xibalba sighed in defeat. “Okay, I am a bit nervous, maybe. You just took me by surprise, that’s all. Is there something you need, by the way?”

“Actually,  there’s something I’d like to discuss with you.”

“What is it?”

“Well… Remember the first time I rode on a horse during my first days here?”

“Don’t remind me, I don’t know what I was thinking on making you race with so little experience.” Xibalba looked away shamefully, picking up his cup of wine.

“Anyway, remember what you said afterwards?”

“Not really.”

La Muerte took a deep breath to calm her nerves, preparing herself for his reaction. “You said that we’d save the race for later.”

Xibalba nearly spat the wine in his mouth, his wings flaring out in surprise and he nearly fell off his chair. She couldn’t be saying what he thought she was saying, right? “You d-don’t mean…?”

“Why not? I’m much better than before…”

“Yeah, but… I wouldn’t like you to get hurt again.”

“I’m not that fragile, you know.” La Muerte crossed her arms, frowning lightly. This was harder than she thought, until she got an idea. Grinning seductively, she teleported next to him, and leaned against him, running her fingers down his chin. “Besides… It was your idea to begin with, wasn’t it?” she knew she had him when he blushed deeply, trembling and a goofy smile creeping across his face. “And remember the stakes…”

God in heaven, this woman still drove him mad with lust, even though he fought his urges and desires to touch her. He shivered in delight when she ran her hand down his chin, and then down his chest, feeling her warm breath into his ear as she whispered sweet words to him. Not only was she beautiful, she was clever enough to use it to her advantage when she wanted. Out of sudden, he thought it wouldn’t do bad to have a little rematch. Besides, they never got to finish it.

After a while, Xibalba regained his composure enough to give his wife a reply. “As you wish, my dear.” Soon he was back to normal. “With a few conditions.”

“What conditions?”

“One, I get to choose where we race. Two, we go smoothly, no obstacles.”

“Are you the same god didn’t stop bragging about his horse riding skills?”

“It’s not about that. You are getting better at horseback, but you still have no experience in obstacles. The least thing I’d like is that you get a concussion in you head because of my carelessness.”

La Muerte was partly moved that he worried about her and decided to comply on that request. She wasn’t very excited about obstacles, anyway, and she didn’t want to worry him. “By the way, where is it taking place?”

He grinned. “Well, a horse race can only be held at one place…”

Epona’s realm was beautiful. The last time she had only seen part of it when they drank tea with her the first time, she never saw the rest of it. Epona gladly agreed to be the hostess of their little race, stating that as the mistress of Steeds it was her duty to oversee these kind of exchanges between gods (on European pantheons, at least). Xibalba asked her to lend them her easiest track, a road that led through the forest, then into an open field, and then back towards the castle.

As they prepared the horses for the race, Xibalba finished tightening the harness of Medianoche’s saddle and bridle, before going to help his wife, who was not familiarized with it just yet. “Here, let me help you.” He said, tightening the cincha of Blanca’s saddle, showing his wife how to do it. “Don’t tighten it too much or she may try to loosen it by herself. And believe me, you are not going to like it.”

La Muerte giggled. “I guess not.”

“Remember our deal, La Muerte. No obstacles and no shortcuts.”

“I know, I don’t know this realm that much, anyway.”

“So, still the same… stakes?”

Again, La Muerte felt some hesitance in his words. “Yes, the same ones.”

Medianoche was snorting and stomping his hooves at Blanca with a flirty air to him, and the white mare seemed to be accepting his compliments this time, if horses could blush her cheeks would be red.

“Those two are getting a bit affectionate, you know.” Epona giggled at the sight, even watching as the two horses started exchanging neighs and affectionate snorts between each other. “We’ll start when you’re ready.”

After managing to get their horses away from each other, the two gods led them to the finish line by the reins. Epona had marked the starting line, and right then one of the centaurs that served her walked over to the starting line to signal them to part. Both gods mounted on their horses, and the centaur lifted up a colorful banner. La Muerte shivered internally, already thinking on what she would do. She knew Xibalba would probably try to go easy on her, judging by how he had been acting, but she wouldn’t let him do it.

Xibalba subtly glanced at his wife, tightly holding the reins and making sure she was properly adjusted in the saddle. Damn it, he hoped nothing would happen to her, even though Epona’s realm was relatively safe and there were little creatures that could pose a threat he still didn’t want anything to happen to her again.

The centaur stomped both hooves and waved the banner.

The horses were spurred into a gallop, and led into the forest. Epona immediately teleported towards her castle to wait for the winner. Meanwhile, Xibalba and La Muerte galloped through the forest road, and unlike the first time, La Muerte had a gentle yet more confident hand, and led her horse with great ease. However she had noticed that Xibalba made no attempt to outrun her, in fact it seemed he was doing his best to gallop at her pace. Eyup, he was holding back.

At this pace they would end up in a tie.

She’d have to incite him to give it his all.

“What’s up, Xibalba?!” she called out for him tauntingly. “Can’t you hold on your own against a woman?” If she pressed the right buttons…

“What are you implying?!” Xibalba inquired, he sounded offended.

“You didn’t stop bragging about being the best horseman in the pantheon and look at you now!”

“I’m going easy on you, for your information!”

She didn’t buy it. “As if! Maybe you’re losing your edge after so much time!”

Damn himself and his pride. Taking those words as a challenge, Xibalba responded with a grin of his own. “Fine! You want to see me in action? I’m not having mercy!” With that, he spurred his horse and Medianoche neighed in response, accelerating his pace and soon outrunning her. La Muerte smiled internally with satisfaction, and snapped Blanca’s reins to motion her to go faster, but now was careful not to get too close to Xibalba. A few minutes later they emerged from the forest, and into a beautiful wheat field that almost looked like a field of gold. Xibalba looked back at his wife with a grin as he steered Medianoche leftwards, right towards a spot where some quails were resting. The startled birds took flight right in the direction of La Muerte and Blanca, though luckily none flew close enough to frighten Blanca. La Muerte gaped in dismay and surprise, and caught the mischievous glint on Xibalba’s eyes as he continued on his way. La Muerte gave him an incredulous stare, before huffing in annoyance as she spurred Blanca and the two galloped after the black rider. Her long hair was flowing with the breeze, refreshing her scalp and giving her a sense of freedom similar to that of the wind itself. Was this how Xibalba when he rode?

Well, if he had tricks up his sleeve, so had she.

As the two entered the forest, La Muerte took a look at her surroundings, trying to find someway to get ahead of her husband, until she recalled that his priority was that she didn’t get hurt. An idea popped inside her brain, though she thought of a way that it wouldn’t violate Xibalba’s conditions on the race. No shortcuts, and no obstacles. Grinning, La Muerte slowed down her horse and trotted out of the road, and waited for a while before calling out. “Blanca, what’s wrong?! Calm down!” Blanca soon knew what she was up to, and started to neigh loudly to give their little act a little more credibility.

Xibalba grew alarmed when he heard La Muerte’s yells through the forest, Medianoche reacting similarly when he heard Blanca’s neighs. The dark god stopped his horse and wheeled him around to glance back at the road he had come, finding his wife missing. Oh, no.

“La Muerte!” Xibalba kicked his horse into a gallop once more and headed into the woods, exactly towards the direction he had heard his wife. “Where are you?!”

No reply other than Blanca’s sounds. Medianoche dashed forward towards the direction of the sound, his large and thick hooves pounding against the ground with a great force, until he heard the running of water, and his ears perked up. Xibalba spotted a small creek just a few steps ahead of them, and quickly pulled on the reins, flaring out his wings to brake abruptly before his horse’s hooves touched the water, making him rear. Medianoche hated getting wet, he hated it with a passion, and let out neighs of protest as he stepped back from the edge of the creek by his own account.

And on the other side was La Muerte, giggling in amusement. “You’re certainly a drama queen when you want to.” With those words, she galloped down the river, laughing in delight.

It took both Xibalba and Medianoche a while to process what had just happened. When he realized what she had done, Xibalba smiled in amusement and shook his head. “That woman has more to her than it seems.” She had managed to outsmart him, and that was usually a very hard thing to do. If he hurried he still may catch up to her. Once more wheeling his horse around, Xibalba galloped back the way he’d come, towards the road.

Meanwhile, when they were getting closer to Epona’s castle, La Muerte slowed Blanca down and hid at the side of the road for Xibalba to pass. Knowing him it wouldn’t take him that long, he had a stronger horse with much more stamina, but actually she wanted him to win. She didn’t actually know why, she was wasting a perfect chance to visit the Land of the Remembered, and yet at the thought of seeing her father again after what happened between them made her stomach churn and her heartache. She missed her little sister and her subjects, of course, but not her father… She wondered if this was only temporary since she was resented at him, or if realizing he was a real person with defects made her grow distant permanently from him. She still loved him, he was her father above all, after all, but she still needed time.

Her mind drifted back to the other stake of the wager. Why did she want Xibalba to win? If he won she’d have to finally spend a night in the same room, the same bed as him, and he’d probably want to consummate their marriage. That was his objective the first time they did this wager in the first place.

However, things had changed… the both of them had changed their opinions and perspectives on the other, they had seen each other cry, laugh, suffer, grow excited, they had learned of each other’s story, what things they had in common and what made them different at the same time. At first she didn’t want to touch him, or let her touch him, she despised him for tricking her father into handing over his realm through a wager, the oldest trick in the book, and now she saw him as a friend, she appreciated his suave manner, his chivalry, his tenderness and his friendship, she met a side of him she never thought he’d have. He’d taught her to be herself and not let others’ expectations get in the way of who she was.

Xibalba had only wanted her maidenhood and to make her his at first, to brag to others he had gotten her as a wife, but now he genuinely cared for her and treated her as such. He showed her respect and tenderness, she became his first and only friend (other than those who inhabited in his castle with him), she helped his long-inflicted wounds to finally heal. Over the course of the race she had noticed he had been holding back, as if trying to let her win, it was almost as if he was trying not to get the prize he’d have if he were to cross the line first. La Muerte felt as if this dark, arrogant and cruel god she had met had only been an outer shell concealing his true self, a lonely creature who only wanted a friend.

Maybe this is why she wanted to let him win.

Just like she assumed, it wasn’t long before she heard hooves pounding against the ground, and soon after Xibalba galloped by, not even noticing La Muerte was hidden behind the trees. La Muerte waited for a few minutes before leading Blanca out of the bushes, back unto the road and gently spurred her back into a canter to go after him.

Xibalba galloped towards the castle, and expected La Muerte to be there already waiting for him with a triumphant smirk, but when he crossed the line (also marked by one of Epona’s centaurs) and found he was by himself save for the amused Epona waiting on one side of the road with some of her guards, he glanced back at the way he had just come. He was about to go back and look for his wife when he saw her cantering towards the finish line much farther behind him. That’s when the realization hit him, making his heart nearly stop inside his chest.

He had won.

When she crossed the finish line, La Muerte was panting, and tried to look and sound as frustrated as she could. “Rayos…”

“What happened?” Xibalba inquired, dismounting from Medianoche and walking over to help his wife dismount her horse.

“I got a bit lost and it took me a while to find the path again.” She lied, hoping he wouldn’t suspect anything.

“That’s what you get for cheating.” Xibalba snickered, brushing a hair away from her face.

“Well, you little lovebirds, how about we go back inside and rest a bit before you go?” Epona almost laughed at how the two were blushing.

“Well, I guess it won’t do bad. Blanca and Medianoche need to rest a bit, anyway.” La Muerte nodded, but as she went to join Epona Xibalba stayed behind.

“I’ll catch up to you in a moment, girls, I need to… catch my breath.”

As they headed over towards the castle courtyard, some stable hands leading Medianoche and Blanca away into the stable to give them some water, Xibalba stayed behind in the entrance. As soon as he was certain he was alone, Xibalba sighed in dismay and rubbed his temples. “Maldita sea…”

Ponzoña slithered out of his armor unto his arm and hissed questioningly.

“I know I wanted to win, but that was before…!” Xibalba growled, sighing. “I don’t want to hurt her… She’s a wonderful woman, I don’t want to take her maidenhood from her just like that anymore. I should have never agreed to this to begin with!”

Ponzoña hissed in reply.

“And even if it happens what if she…?!” Xibalba couldn’t even finish the sentence; the topic was touchy for him. Heck, he hadn’t even thought about it nor the possibility.

He had never liked children, he had always found them annoying, bratty and pestering, he disliked them in his presence, and many pantheons knew it.

He didn’t feel ready to be a father, but not because of the reasons some thought. The truth was he was terrified of becoming like his father with his already threadbare patience and bad temper. He wouldn’t bear it. He didn’t want to give La Muerte such a burden when he wasn’t even sure if she felt ready for it either, he hadn’t talked about it to her. And yet, he dreamed of the night he’d spend with her, of her aroma, her gentle skin and the taste of her lips, he wanted to express what he felt for her, but he was afraid of planting his seeds unto her.

Cursing under his breath, Xibalba turned Ponzoña into a staff and went inside the castle to meet with Epona and his wife.

Chapter Text

“Mami, how did the baby get into your belly?”

Esperanza smiled as she placed the brush down, and brought her hands to her baby bump. “Your papi put it in there.”

“How?”

“It’s… complicated.”

La Muerte didn’t understand, how could a baby fit into her mother’s belly, and she said her father put it inside? “I don’t get it…”

Esperanza smiled once again, pulling her daughter closer so she could plant a kiss on her forehead. “You’ll understand it someday, when you’re older and you marry your handsome prince.”

“Why do I have to wait until I marry?”

“Well, you need a boy and a girl to have a baby. Babies need a mami and a papi.”

“But how?”

“Well, when a married couple love each other very much, they create children.” Esperanza was stroking her daughter’s head gently, before taking her hand and placing it on her abdomen so her daughter could feel her baby sister kicking. “Here, your sister wants to say hi.”

La Muerte squealed in delight when she felt a tapping in her mother’s tummy, and hugged her tightly. “I love you, mami.”

Esperanza returned the embrace and kissed her head with the usual maternal warmth that she always showed her. “I love you more, mi niña.”

La Muerte stared at her reflection in the mirror, remembering that moment very clearly. She remembered when she had first asked the question every little child asked her parents, where babies came from. Sure, at that time she was only five, and too young to understand what she meant, and now that she knew how a child was conceived, she couldn’t help but grow nervous. It would be her first time with a man, and frankly, she was afraid. She wanted this, but at the same time she was still struggling against these feelings she had. Tonight would be it; she would finally give herself to him.

Xibalba was having similar thoughts, he was pacing around his room, nervous. He didn’t know why he felt like this, he had bedded lots of women before to satisfy his needs without a care, he had wanted to make La Muerte his every since he first lay his eyes on her, but he hadn’t cared about any of those women from before (Epona was the exception, but he never had any romantic feelings for her even though most pantheons thought they would make the perfect couple), and now that he knew La Muerte better, now that he felt something for her, he didn’t want to take her maidenhood just because of a stupid wager, rather because she wished it so. That, and he was still afraid of the idea of fertilizing her pure womb with his filthy seeds.

Still, he wanted her first experiencing of it to be perfect, magical, just like she always dreamed of. He had considered doing it in his chambers, but felt in the last moment that it was not very romantic, not to mention it was very cold. He only knew of one place in his castle that could be an ideal place…

When La Muerte had returned to her chambers at night, she found a single red rose on top of her bed, along with a note. She couldn’t help but giggle a bit as she picked the rose and gave it a sniff, taking in the blissful aroma. Then she picked the note and gave it a quick read.

Meet me in the garden at nine o’clock  

The following two hours she tried to calm down and find something she could wear, though judging by what they were going to do that was not very important. Once nine o’clock struck, La Muerte resigned and headed out of her room wrapped in her nightgown and red bathrobe, going up towards the upper levels of the castle, and towards the garden. As she was making her way upstairs to go into the beautiful garden, she wondered how her father would react if he ever found out about this, but then again, Xibalba was her husband, she wasn’t doing anything wrong.

When she walked into the garden, her eyes couldn’t believe what they were seeing. There was a path of rose and marigold petals leading forward, flanked by small candles of pinkish fire, and all the flowers around were in bloom. Even the ‘sunlight’ had dimmed and it looked as if it were nighttime in the garden, making La Muerte wonder if this garden could be manipulated at will. Taking a hand up to her mother’s pendant, La Muerte slowly walked down the path of petals, she was tempted to take off her slippers and walk barefoot on the ground, but chose not to at the last moment.

The path was leading up to the jacaranda tree, where she found a large white mantle on top of the grass, surrounded by decorations of flowers and a few more candles. Xibalba was already waiting for her there, and despite the tender look to him she could tell he was beyond anxious and nervous.

“A-Are you sure you want to do this…?” he asked, trying to hide his insecurity. “I mean, if you don’t feel ready I’ll understand…”

“It’s okay, we made a bet and I lost.” La Muerte simply said, approaching her husband, grinning when he stepped back with blushing cheeks. “Besides, I thought you wanted to taste me.”

“I…D…B-“ Xibalba didn’t know what to say as she cornered him against the jacaranda’s trunk, his wings bristling in stress. Finally, he decided he had to control himself and calm down, she didn’t seem any upset for this, so maybe he had nothing to worry about. Relaxing his muscles, Xibalba managed to speak properly this time. “I’m sorry, I… well, I just want it to be perfect for you.”

La Muerte smiled at his consideration, and wrapped her arms around his neck. “You have nothing to worry about.”

Finally returning the smile, Xibalba picked his wife up bridal style and headed over to the mantle on the grass so he could  sit down, and then lay down with his wife just next to him. La Muerte accommodated in the crook of his arm, snuggling against him and resting her head against his chest. His heartbeat had a soothing effect on her, and his aroma of bubbling tar no longer had the stinking effect it used to have on her now she even found it attractive. Meanwhile, Xibalba was absolutely enjoying her sweet smell of flowers and candy, and he stroked her shoulder tenderly, for the first time without his gloves, and it was just like he imagined it to be. Warm and soft, he couldn’t wait to lick it.

And yet, his nerves were still getting to him. And unfortunately, La Muerte noticed.

“Still nervous?” she inquired gently.

Xibalba’s feathers were bristling nervously once again, but he managed to speak without stuttering. “No, no, I’m fine, really. I should be asking you that, it’s your first time.”

“Well… I have to admit…” La Muerte shifted a bit away from Xibalba, shifting her gaze towards the flowers and rubbing her arms. “I always imagined my first time in other circumstances…”

His stomach flipped. “I guess so…”

“I still can’t believe it, you know…”

“Believe what?”

“How eight months ago we hated each other, and look at us now…”

“I didn’t hate you. I disliked your stubbornness and your temper, but I didn’t hate you.”

“I didn’t actually hate you either. I just thought you were cruel and arrogant, I thought you didn’t care for anyone but yourself.”

“I won’t lie to you, my dear, that was partly true…” Xibalba blushed deeply at the following words. “Until I met you, that is.”

La Muerte couldn’t help but giggle, before shivering a bit. Despite the light heat emanating from the candles there was a chill in the air tonight. Xibalba almost instinctively wrapped a wing around her and pulled her closer to warm her up a bit. “Better?” he inquired. La Muerte shivered in delight at the ticklish sensation of his feathers.

“Much better.” She smiled, snuggling up against him and looking up at him with that sweet gaze. Those beautiful suns that almost always caught him into an hypnotic trance similar to that of a cobra captivating its prey, or a peacock’s tail as it extended in the Spring season to attract a mate.

“You have beautiful eyes…” he whispered after a while, starting to feel the urge and instinct to make it with his now beloved wife.

“Yours too…” La Muerte returned a whisper of her own, gazing into his skull shaped red pupils. “They have a funny shape…” Unknowingly their heads were leaning closer as the storm of emotions started to stir within their bodies, as well as their hormones. “Shall we?” She asked, growing impatient.

“As you wish…” Xibalba gave his wife a flirty grin. “mi ángel.”

 Finally, their lips joined together in a tender kiss, and almost immediately La Muerte’s arms sought a grip around Xibalba’s neck, pulling herself as close to him as possible, while Xibalba’s claws had taken a gentle hold of her waist. He tried to taste as much of her cherry-flavored lips as much as possible, but trying not to get too rough or forceful with the kiss, still not forgetting it was her first time. La Muerte couldn’t help but shiver at how cold his touch was, but she fought back the urge to pull away from the kiss, and instead focused on the back of his neck as she ran her fingers down it, making him shiver in delight.

Being much more experienced in this-something of which he was not really proud of now-, Xibalba knew how to treat a virgin, but this woman in particular deserved the best experience she could ever have. As his hands explored her curves, her back and her nape, one of them ran through her hair to release more of her perfume, a rich smell of roses and marigolds with a pinch of lemon. His feathers bristled in delight when she ran her fingers down his neck, and then down his collarbone, while he continued with the lip kissing. Eventually, however, he got tired of them and wished to explore a little deeper.

La Muerte felt Xibalba’s black tongue caressing her lips, begging to let him in. She was reluctant, but her rising hormones made her gently open an entrance for Xibalba’s tongue, and moaned in delight when she felt the tip exploring the insides of her mouth in a ticklish sensation, leaving a strong aftertaste of wine and churros. As she continued to enjoy his kisses and his caresses, soon she felt wetness down between her legs. She could tell Xibalba was having his own arousal by now, judging by how he was trying to keep his legs and below his waist a bit farther from her.

Their hearts were quickening their paces little by little, their breathing was becoming a bit rougher and accelerated. Xibalba got tired of touching La Muerte’s gown, and it wasn’t long before he started to undress her with all the tenderness in the world, gently slipping the robe off her, and then proceeding to slip her semi-transparent sleeping gown off her, while La Muerte did something similar with his night robe.

Finally bored of her lips, Xibalba lowered his ‘inspection’ down to her neck, planting kisses on it, and happily licking her gentle flesh of sugar. La Muerte moaned once again as she shivered in delight while enjoying his tongue licking and kissing her neck, gripping on his shoulders and wrapping her legs around his waist.

Slowly, their tenderness was giving way in to passion, their bodies asking them for more, drops of sweat trickled down their bodies as they indirectly got ready for what was coming next. Xibalba lifted his lips from his wife’s neck to take a breath, and the two gazed at each other briefly.

“Are you okay?” he asked her, brushing some disheveled hairs away from her face with his claw.

“Better than ever.” La Muerte sighed, managing to give him a small smile. “How about you?”

“Don’t worry about me, my dear. I’m experienced at this.”

Grinning, La Muerte surprised Xibalba by turning him around and placing herself on top of him. “Then show me.”

The dark god was surprised when her lips came into contact with his once more, this time in a more passionate way. He gladly returned the kiss and wrapped his arms around his wife, also enveloping with his wings; he was tempted to do it, but he wasn’t certain if she would allow it. Who knew, they were so much into this by now that perhaps she wouldn’t mind now. She shivered when she felt Xibalba’s hand reach down towards her nether regions, and squealed in surprise when his fingers gingerly started touching her pussy, already moistened by their passion and her spiked hormones.

“Sorry.” Xibalba whispered, retreating his hands from the goddess’s pussy.

“It’s okay…” La Muerte whispered, her cheeks all red and blushing. “It’s just it’s ticklish, that’s all…”

Grinning, Xibalba flipped La Muerte around so that he was on top of her once more. “Oh? So my suspicions were true? You are ticklish?”

“Don’t you dare-“ La Muerte couldn’t finish the sentence as Xibalba started to tickle between her legs, making her giggle and grip on the white mantle, sweating. Soon La Muerte pulled Xibalba into a fierce kiss, again taking him by surprise, and once again he returned the kiss with as much passion. Their insecurities faded away, their hormones nearly reached their peaks as they resumed their lovemaking. Their bodies perspired deeply with their hearts beating as one. Xibalba got a bit horny, and soon his hands were exploring his wife’s breasts, caressing and squeezing them lightly, making La Muerte groan and squeal in delight. It wasn’t long before they neared their climax, and their primal instincts were near taking over.

“Are you ready?” Xibalba asked her, he wanted to make sure she wanted this.

La Muerte was a bit afraid, but nevertheless the nodded, breathing in and out to regain her lost breath. Her grip on Xibalba’s shoulders became tighter as she prepared herself emotionally for what was to come. Xibalba prepared to take the step, making sure he was pointing at between her legs, and he’d hoped she would like it; he’d do his best to make it as slow as possible.

La Muerte whimpered lightly when the moment she had been waiting for arrived, when she felt Xibalba penetrate through her hymen, crying out through the kiss as he thrust in and out of her as gently as he could. It hurt a bit, but she could tell he was doing his best to do it slowly, she gripped on Xibalba’s shoulders, opening up her legs even more to make it easier for him.

Passion had overcome them, they no longer thought. That night, they became one as they expressed their love for one another, continuing to explore each other’s bodies. The candles around them flared a passionate red because of the moment.

Darkness and Light.

Sugar and Tar.

Cruelty and Kindness.

La Muerte felt his manhood devouring her maidenhood, her womb was on fire, but soon she felt she was reaching her climax. “Xibalba…” she whimpered, breaking away from the kiss.

“I’m almost there…” Xibalba replied through grit teeth, containing his urge to thrust faster and unleash his passion and desire unto her body. “Wait… Just wait for me…” he groaned.

La Muerte continued to cry out silently, gripping Xibalba’s shoulders with a strong grip, until…

Both Xibalba and La Muerte cried out when he came deep into her, and in an act of instinct La Muerte clenched her vaginal muscles to milk him into her more. Xibalba’s wings flared out and his feathers bristled. He couldn’t contain himself any longer, he thrust in and out harder into her, pressing her against his chest and kissing her fiercely. La Muerte kissed him with fury and ecstasy, her whimpers turning into moans of pleasure as they reached their climax. They didn’t know how much it lasted, to them it felt like hours, but a minute later Xibalba retreated from her, and collapsed next to her, spreading out his bristled wings and looking upwards. Both deities were panting heavily, their perspiration mixing as La Muerte snuggled against Xibalba’s body, seeking its warmth when another chilly breeze blew in the garden. The candles’ fire returned back to normal as the hormones lowered back to normal levels and the heartbeats slowed down to rest.

Damn it, he was getting too old for this. It had been so long ever since he had interacted this way with a woman, but those times were different. Those other times he took women to his bed didn’t mean anything to him, he had only satisfied a physical and psychological need, he was not in love with her, and as soon as he was satisfied he forgot about them and never had any contact with them again (Epona being the exception, she was a dear friend to him).

But this time it had been different. La Muerte made him feel different than those other women he bedded, she was not just a toy he bought and discarded when he got bored of it, she was a beautiful woman he was proud and happy to call his beloved wife. He wanted to make her happy, he wanted to be with her, he… he… he couldn’t deny it any longer, as much as he had refused to accept the fact, now he was certain it was true, and nothing would change it.

He loved her.

La Muerte was exhausted. Xibalba might have done most of the job, but this was her first time, she had given herself to him.  She was now his, the union had ben consummated. Their marriage was fully valid now, it would be impossible to break it now. If her father ever found out she and Xibalba had spent the night together he was capable on waging war on the Land of the Forgotten, but she didn’t care about what he thought anymore. As she snuggled deeply into her husband’s embrace, smelling his aroma of tar and ash, she rested her head against his chest, listening to his heartbeat, relaxing at his touch when he pulled her closer with his arm and a wing. She was certain now, what had started as mere affection and sympathy had become something more.

She loved him.

The two just stayed like that for a while, looking up at the night sky-like ceiling, snuggled against each other, without saying anything, enjoying the moment. A few minutes later, Xibalba gathered the courage to speak. “La Muerte…?”

“Mm?” La Muerte shifted on his embrace so she was looking at him. “What is it?”

“Did… Was it like you thought it would be?”

Smiling, La Muerte shook her head. “Much better.”

Xibalba returned the smile and pulled her even closer, now wrapping both his wings around her, almost like a protective cocoon. They were so exhausted they thought it wouldn’t hurt to spend the night here. It was so comfortable… Xibalba found himself stroking La Muerte’s head once more and running his fingers through her dark locks, sniffing them and memorizing the scent of flowers. He couldn’t help it, he planted a kiss on his wife’s forehead, tasting her sugar one last time. “Buenas noches, La Muerte.” He whispered into her ear, making her blush lightly.

“Buenas noches, Xibalba…”

The two of them didn’t take long in falling asleep, close to one another. They were in such bliss, none of them noticed a dark shadow with glowing red eyes staring at the dark god grimly.

Akrinok had never bothered to visit this place; he thought it a complete waste of time (and he didn’t fit through the door in life, anyway), and wanted nothing to do with Selena’s hobbies. He continued to stare at his son darkly, then at La Muerte, and back at Xibalba. He cursed that woman for coming to ruin all he had worked on for years, for spoiling Xibalba when it had taken him years to harden his heart only for this accursed goddess to make him a softie yet again. He had to fix this, quickly. Akrinok floated closer to the two lovers with a disgusted expression, and targeted Xibalba. The boy was smiling in his sleep. Damn it.

Turning into black fog, Akrinok made his way inside his son’s unconscious as he dreamed. He had to talk personally about this with him.

Chapter Text

He had fallen asleep holding his now-beloved wife close to him, wanting to feel her warmth and her scent of flowers. He had never been so happy before. He wished they could stay like this forever, always together, the two of them. He wanted to make La Muerte happy, be there for her, and form a family someday, perhaps. He dreamt he was with her underneath a tree, the two of them cuddled against one another, watching the setting sun as it lowered to behind the mountains, giving way to the pale blue moon. They were so happy and calm, enjoying their moment.

Then something happened.

Out of sudden all his happy thoughts started to vanish, and for a reason he could not explain he grew dreadful and afraid. He found himself alone, La Muerte was gone, despite him calling out to her. All his thoughts on La Muerte were replaced by memories. Bad memories. Memories of his loneliness, of his traumatic past, of… of Selena. Of his brother. Of him.

The dark godling wailed as he attempted to get free of Lorenzo’s hold, reaching out for the door of his mother’s room. “MAMÁ! MAMÁ!” he cried.

But there was no reply.

“Z-Zippy?” he had gone to his brother’s room after having a bad dream to look for his comfort, only to find him at the window with half-stretched wings. He had a bad feeling about it. “Where are you going?”

Zipacna just stared back at him with glossy eyes. “I’m sorry, hermanito.”

His eyes widened as his brother took off and flew away. Instinctively Xibalba ran for the window and cried out for him to take him with him.

But he was gone.

Xibalba tried to crawl away from his father’s threathening shadow, but Akrinok dragged him back by the wings, gripping them with such force he nearly broke them. The godling cried out in pain. “I’m sorry, father! I’ll behave!”

But that was not the worst. Suddenly more memories returned to him, these were worst than the previous one. He saw La Muerte in it, but it was not one of the pleasant dreams that he had been having ever since he and La Muerte went on that date, and he realized his feelings for her. These were memories of the dark days she hated him, the times she tried to leave him, the times her life was put in danger by his foolishness. He did what he could, he called and reached out for her, but it always had the same conclusion. He could only watch helplessly as she was torn apart by the Forgotten Beasts, or she drowned in the waters of the Nile in the dark chamber, or her skull cracked when she hit her head when Blanca reared and threw her off.

You are a danger to her.

“No…” he whimpered in his sleep, his feathers bristling.

How many times did you put her life at risk? How many times did she nearly die because of your carelessness?

“No…”

You have done nothing but to ruin her life. She had the perfect life until you came into it. Your forced her to marry you through a chantage. You took her away from her family, her loved ones, you caused her conflicts with them. And you have the guts to say you love her? You are not worthy of such a kind, beautiful woman.

“NO!” Finally, Xibalba startled awake, cold sweat trickling down his body, his heart drumming and his eyes moistened. Once he realized he was back in the garden, the dark god let out a sigh of relief and took a hand to his temples. Everything was calm and quiet, with only the sound of the leaves rustling with the early morning breeze; feeling a weight on the crook of his arm, Xibalba glanced down and found La Muerte snuggled against him, a smile on her face. Smiling lightly upon finding the woman he loved safe and sound in his arms, but as he was about to reach out his claw to gently brush a hair away from her face, suddenly he stopped, and his smile faltered.

He remembered all his nightmares, the words he heard. The memories. He tried to discard them as mere senseless fears, but he couldn’t. The voice wasn’t completely wrong, it was right in many senses. After all, he had practically forced her to marry him thorough blackmailing, threatening to leave her family on the street if she did not agree. He had put her life in danger not once, not even twice, but thrice, all because he failed to properly look after her. He separated her from her loved ones, he snatched her from Paradise and brought her down against her will to this Hell.

Besides, what could he actually offer her? A barren kingdom with nothing but wandering monsters and empty souls for subjects? A filthy, corrupted body of tar to taint her beautiful sugar skin and silky licorice hair? La Muerte was a beautiful woman, she was kind, sweet, compassionate, surely there were many better-looking gods who could offer her the best lands along with riches and many other things he couldn’t even think of affording. She deserved the best of everything.

He was nothing but a smudge, an annoyance in her otherwise perfect life.

A while passed before Xibalba reacted. He stood carefully slid his arm off La Muerte and went on his feet, grabbing his purple robe and putting it on before picking his wife up in his arms gently, and walking out of the garden. As he continued down the hall, he thought thoroughly on what he was going to do. He didn’t want to, he had hoped there was another way to do this, but he knew La Muerte would never leave on her own accord. He had to give her a little push… He went into her chambers and placed her down unto her bed, grabbing her robe to cover her with it and then headed towards the window to wait until she woke up. He didn’t have to wait long.

La Muerte started stirring awake, but then she noticed she was no longer in Xibalba’s embrace. She was not even on top of grass anymore; she was on top of a bed. Her bed, to be more specific. Her robe was on top of her.

“You’re awake.”

La Muerte glanced at Xibalba when he spoke, and found him facing the window, his hands tucked behind his back. Although surprised to find him out of bed, nevertheless she smiled and approached him as she put on her robe. “Buenos días.” She whispered, approaching him from behind and sliding her hands up his shoulders. “Did you sleep well…?” But to her confusion, Xibalba shifted away from her and didn’t look to see her.

“Save it. I’ve had enough of it.” He said rather harshly and coldly. This further confused La Muerte. What was wrong with him?

“What do you mean?” La Muerte inquired, not understanding what he meant to say.

“Save your sympathy. I don’t want it anymore.” He retorted, as coldly as before.

She was slightly hurt by his words, and further confused by his attitude. “Xibalba, is something wrong?”

“Oh, no, nothing’s wrong that I know of.”

“Then what’s with your attitude?”

A humorless chuckle left his lips. “Well, I am simply sick of acting all emotional and understanding.”

La Muerte stepped back from him warily. What did he mean? A part of her had an idea, but she didn’t want to think of it. She was hoping he was just playing a prank on her, but the coldness in his voice made her think otherwise. “I don’t understand…”

“Of course you don’t.” He finally turned to look at her; his eyes, once tender and loving, now had the same hostile and distant expression he had the fist days she spent here, and there was no hint of humor in his face. “You are so naïve, La Muerte. All it took was sweet words, a little flirting and lots of ‘emotional’ talk to get your guard down. I admit, of all the women I’ve bedded, you were the hardest challenge.”

No….

“What…?” she refused to believe what she was saying, she prayed this was just a nightmare, and she’d wake up soon to find herself in her husband’s embrace, but something told her this was real.

He circled her like a vulture circling on a dying fawn. “You know, initially I was planning on making you mine whether you wanted it or not. But then you softened up when I was injured, and I decided to take advantage of it. And you caught the bait. Really, and here I thought you were smarter than that.”

“I don’t… Why are you…” her eyes were swelling up with tears of disbelief. “Why are you telling me these horrible things?”

“What? I thought you didn’t like lies.” He snickered cruelly. “For the first time I’m actually being truthful with you. I have what I wanted from you. I don’t have to keep up all that façade anymore.”

Her tears were finally finding their way down her cheeks. Her blood started to boil, and yet she was overcome by sorrow as she felt an oppression in her chest. “I… I thought…”

“That’s what I wanted you to think, my dear. Otherwise you would have never accepted me. No wonder why everyone in the pantheon said you were a prize hard to get, you certainly were.” He turned around and started to leave the room. “But a prize, nonetheless.” Suddenly, before he could move any further, he felt her arms wrap around his waist.

La Muerte, in a fit of desperation and hurt, ran forward and embraced him, sobbing, begging him wordlessly to stop with this cruel joke. “Please, don’t do this to me…” her voice was broken, and she managed to speak between sobs. “I love you…! I don’t care… I d-don’t care what t-they say of you!”

He froze in place when he heard her speak like that, pleadingly, begging, sobbing, but overall when she said ‘I love you’. She loved him back… She returned his feelings. A great part of him wanted to return her embrace, take back the horrible things he was saying and brush her tears away. But he hardened his heart, this was for her own good.

 Firmly, but reluctantly, the dark god carelessly shoved her against the bed, not even glancing back at her. She looked up at him in shock and disbelief, but overall a great pain.

“Now that I have what I wanted, I have no more use for you. You may do whatever you wish, if you want to leave and go back to your dear old’ daddy, go. I don’t really care what you do now.” With these last words, Xibalba walked out of the room, leaving the door wide open, as if giving he the notion to leave.

La Muerte just stayed there, frozen in shock. A sob escaped her lips. Her eyes swelled up with tears, as she took a hand to her mouth. She couldn’t believe it. He had just… The dark god she had come to see as her friend, the one she had come to love…  Not only had he rejected her, all that she had tried to avoid form the beginning had happened. He tricked her, he deceived her into thinking he had changed all to strip her of her maidenhood, just like everyone had warned her. He took advantage of her love, when he knew perfectly she held love in a high regard. She had opened her heart to him, only to have it backfire right back in her face.

Her father had been right all this time. Xibalba was truly the cruelest god of all.

La Muerte tore her wedding ring off her finger and threw it against the floor, running out of the room, and running down the halls; she was so desperate and broken-hearted that she didn’t care she only had a bathrobe on, she just wanted to get away from this horrible place. She ignored the lizards as they asked her if something was wrong, trying to hide her tears from view. She ran outside, into the stable, opening Blanca’s stall, climbing unto the white mare and galloping out; Medianoche didn’t understand what was going on, but something told him they were leaving for good, the Friesian neighed angrily and tried in vain to open the door of his stall, bucking and stomping his hooves, calling out for Blanca. She could only let out a neigh in reply. La Muerte was openly crying now, burying her face into Blanca’s mane as she abandoned her hus- Lord Xibalba’s castle for good.

She did not see a shadow watching from one of the highest towers of the fortress.

He had been reluctant, but Xibalba watched with great sorrow and pain as his beloved wife, the love of his life, his first friend, galloped away not only from his castle, but from his life as well. He wished her to be happy with someone worth of her, but it didn’t mean it didn’t hurt. His heart had been torn before, but never like this, now the feeling was unbearable, it was as if he had been stabbed in the chest, but his heart still beat. By the time she was but a tiny white spot on the distance, he lifted a trembling hand to the window, his eyes moistened and at the verge of tears.

“Adiós, mi amor…” he whispered in a broken voice, before he couldn’t bear it any longer, and the tears now trickled down his cheeks; he took his other hand to his shut eyes, grit his teeth and nearly dug his claws into the glass to the point of cracking it.

“My Lord?!” Emilio had no idea of what had happened when out of sudden La Muerte ran by him, in tears and dressed only in a sleeping robe. Just what had transpired between her and Xibalba that made her leave like that? He doubted it was what others would suspect. “What happened?”

“Leave me alone, Emilio…” Xibalba growled between sobs and grit teeth. “I want to be alone…”

“Why did La Muerte leave like that?! She wasn’t even dressed up!”

“I… I d-drove her away... I let her go…”

Emilio’s eyes widened in complete shock and disbelief. “You what?” He couldn’t imagine how he drove her away, though judging by how the poor thing had simply rushed off in tears without bothering to pack or dress up he could make himself an idea. “Why did you do that?!”

It took the dark god a few seconds to reply, staring at the point where La Muerte had disappeared from view not long ago. “Por que la amo.”

“He did WHAT?!”

Emilio stepped back in fright when the rest of the lizards practically yelled the question. He could tell they had not expected this turn of events either. “He made her leave.”

“Why did he do that?!” Roberto shrieked in complete disbelief. “What happened?!”

“I don’t know, all I could figure out is that Lord Xibalba didn’t want her to leave, but he still let her go.”

“I can’t believe it! They made such a cute couple!” Juarez whined, sighing and looking down.

Regina nodded. “After all this years, he finally felt love.”

“Then why would he drive her away like that?” Luis said. “They seemed so happy together.”

“I asked him that, and all he said was that he did it because he loved her.” Emilio explained.

“I don’t get it.

“He drove her away out of insecurity.”

The lizards jumped at the familiar, unexpected voice, glancing at Lorenzo as he looked at them solemnly. “We have known Lord Xibalba ever since he came into this world. We know what he has lived, we know what goes on inside his head even if he doesn’t say it directly, or at all. We know that despite acting stoic, cruel and strong deep down he is still the insecure, shy little boy we once knew. He probably came to the conclusion he is not good enough for Lady La Muerte, and drove her away to let her be happy with someone else.”

The other lizards remained silent for a while, until Emilio spoke. “That does make sense. Don’t forget he fears of becoming like Lord Akrinok as well; that could have had something to do with it too, don’t you think?”

“Man, I still can’t believe he drove her away like that!” Gael sighed, crossing his arms. “Why couldn’t he have simply talked with her about it?”

“What did I just said about his insecurity?”

“Whatever happened, she’s left!” Roberto snapped. “You know what that means, right? Lord Xibalba will probably go back to the way he was and take out his anger on anything he has in front!”

“No.” Lorenzo shook his head. “After what he lived with La Muerte, I doubt he will go back to being the same as before.”

“Do you think he will be fine?” Juarez said worriedly.

“He’s a strong man. Sure, this will be hard to overcome, but I’m sure he will be okay, don’t forget he’s had it worse.” Regina said. Still, she had the feeling this time it wouldn’t be that easy. As if on cue, an inhuman scream of anguish echoed through the castle, and then came the sound of a rampage coming from Xibalba’s chambers.

The Remembered souls parted out of the way when a white horse galloped through the streets of the city, heading towards the castle, but most of them recognized the figure on top of them, and the majority was shocked to find the state she was in. La Muerte didn’t care that she was technically half-naked nor that everyone was watching her, all she wanted was to get home and run to her family’s embrace. Finally, she galloped across the familiar bridge that led to the front courtyard, and went into the stable.

As soon as Blanca stopped inside of the stables, La Muerte immediately got off and ran into the castle, through the halls, for once ignoring the spirits looks of surprise and worried words. She didn’t want to see anyone right now, she was too hurt and brokenhearted to even stop and say she was fine, not to mention that would be lying. At long last, the goddess crossed the doors that led into her room, and slammed them shut, running for her bed and letting herself fall on top of it, burying her face into her pillows and crying her heart and eyes out. She cried for what seemed an eternity, Xibalba’s words were taunting her and stinging at her heart. She didn’t know what she’d say to her father when he found her here, but she guessed the best would be to tell him the truth. It wouldn’t take long before he’d be here, wanting to know what had happened.

Her suspicions were confirmed when soon there was an alarmed knock at the door. “La Muerte?” King Sol rushed into his daughter’s room, and as soon as he found her in bed with nothing more than a bathrobe and crying her lungs out he immediately rushed to her side of bed and placed a hand on her shoulder. “Mija, what’s wrong?! W-When did you-?!” he hadn’t even finished the sentence when La Muerte threw herself into her father’s embrace, burying her face into his robes, weeping. He instantly wrapped his arms around her, pulling her close.

“F-Father…!” La Muerte stuttered between sobs, gripping unto his shoulders.

“There, there. It’s okay, my child.” He realized she had come here without her so-called husband. “Where’s Xibalba-?”

She almost immediately snapped. “Don’t say his name! I don’t want to hear it ever again!”

Sol was surprised when she retorted like that, but at the same time he was partly relieved she did not defend him. Then he saw the state she was in, undressed in only a bathrobe; realization dawned on him. “Did he…?” he grabbed La Muerte by the shoulders and glanced into her eyes. “Did he dare to defile you?! Did he touch you?!”

“No…” La Muerte sobbed, wrapping her bathrobe even tighter around herself. “No, he didn’t, but…” she didn’t have the heart to tell her father she had given herself to Xibalba, it would break his heart. “You w-were r-right about him, he n-never loved me! He only w-wanted…!”

¨Sol immediately knew what she meant to say. “There, there, do not weep, my child. What matters now is that you’re back home, you’re safe from that man and he’ll never hurt you again. I promise you.” He sealed his promise with a small kiss to his daughter’s head, again pulling her close to his chest, comforting her and speaking soothing words to her.

Though she felt assured by his words, they offered little comfort to her. But right now, all she wanted was to rest… and get dressed.

Chapter Text

A few hours, a cup of warm tea and a fresh change of clothing later, La Muerte managed to calm down enough to tell her father what had transpired between her and Xibalba. She didn’t have the heart to tell him he had taken advantage of her feelings to bed her, so she told she caught him cheating on her in the act with another goddess, and he didn’t even try to make an excuse to it. Thankfully, it seemed he believed her, for he did not question her any further on the matter. Sol almost immediately sent another petition of marriage annulment to Quetzalcóatl and Tezcatlipoca, this time with La Muerte’s approval and testimony. But it would take a few months to process it, they had to inquire to Xibalba about it, and if he wanted to go ahead with a divorce. While marriages between Gods was usually life-long, there was a sort of loophole in the Ancient Rules; if both members of the union had a legitimate reason and wished it so, they could as for a divorce, but these were rarely approved, if at all. Sol wanted to separate his beloved daughter from the monster she had been forced to marry as soon as possible.

However, Aimé could tell there was something more to it. Why had La Muerte arrived on a bathrobe, almost undressed? She had the feeling of what had truly happened, but she didn’t dare tell their father about it. She didn’t want to worry him even more, and perhaps she was only assuming things, but she felt she had to ask her sister about it. Sol had asked her not to mention anything more about Xibalba to La Muerte, but maybe it was a good chance for her big sister to let everything out. They had always shared their secrets ever since they were children, so maybe she would tell her. She could tell she needed comfort now more than ever.

That night, Aimé left her room when she was certain Father had gone to sleep, and headed across the hall to her sister’s door. She wasn’t certain if she’d already be asleep, but as she silently opened the door, she found La Muerte was awake, though most of her lamps were until, save for the one in her bedside table. She was sitting in bed with her back against her pillows, her fingers fidgeting with the gold locket around her neck; Aimé noticed her sister’s eyes were till glossy and bloodshot from all the crying. It hurt to see her like this.

“Muertita?” Aimé gently called out to her sister.

La Muerte quickly wiped her eyes, an tried to look as calm as possible, before glancing at her sister and doing her best attempt at a smile. “What is it, Amy?”

“Can I talk to you?”

La Muerte shifted a bit to the side in bed, giving some space for Aimé to sit down next to her. It was just like when they were just children and they’d have their woman-to-woman chats. “What is it?”

“How are you doing?”

“I feel a bit better now that I’m here with you.”

“I’m glad you came back too, La Muerte, I missed you very much.” Aimé leaned against her older sister, and relaxed when she felt her arm warp around her shoulders.

“I missed you very much too, hermana.” La Muerte smiled. “I admit, it was boring down there without my best friend to cheer me up.”

“Say, La Muerte… there’s something I’d like to ask you.”

“What is it?”

Aimé bit her lip. She was reluctant to even bring the topic out, but maybe it was best that she let it all out. “What happened between you and Xibalba? The truth.”

As she expected, La Muerte’s smile immediately disappeared, and her eyes swelled up with tears at the reminder. La Muerte froze when she heard his name. Flashes of their night of passion, then of his betrayal and his heart-wrenching words as he almost literally kicked her out of his life, having obtained what he wanted from him. She just wanted to forget about it and go on with her life, but for some reason she couldn’t. Still, she felt it wouldn’t be fair if she didn’t trust her little sister, after all they had always confided in each other ever since they were very young.

“I’m going to tell you…” she finally said after a while. “But please, don’t tell Father about it. I’m afraid of what he could do if he ever found out…”

“You mean what he could do to him?”

She would be lying if she said she didn’t care what happened to Xibalba. “Of what he could do, you know how papá is about these things.”

“Wait…” Aimé was starting to connect the dots, her eyes widened in horror. “Did Xibalba defile you?”

“No! No, not in the way you are imagining…” La Muerte sighed, and started to tremble. “But… He was s-so sweet, and so tender, I t-thought that maybe, he t-truly loved me…” her voice was trembling, a few tears were finding their way down her cheeks. “I g-gave my m-maidenhood to a monster!” Finally she couldn’t take it any longer and she burst out into tears for the hundredth time that day, embracing her sister tightly and sobbing into her chest, just like Aimé would do back in their younger days. “This m-morning, he j-just… he…”

“I understand.” Aimé told her gently, returning the embrace and stroking her head. “It’s okay, you don’t have to continue if it’s too hurtful.”

The two sisters stayed like that for what seemed like hours, La Muerte crying bitterly over her foolishness. How could she come to love such a man that liked to toy with women without a care in the world? To think she had come to see him as her friend! The very thought that she allowed him to touch her repulsed her, and yet she couldn’t forget the passion he made her feel, the tenderness in his kisses and caresses, she shivered at the reminder.

“I never want to see him again.” She finally said, growling and managing to calm down a bit. “He can rot in that hole he calls his kingdom for what I care.”

“I don’t mean to defend him, but you’re always saying we shouldn’t bear grudges against anyone, even if they deserve it.”

“I know that, but that… man, doesn’t deserve even my pity, nor my tears.” Finally, La Muerte slid out of her sister’s embrace, her tears drying on her cheeks. She would not shed any more tears for him. She had been in harder situations than this, and she always got ahead despite the pain and the hardships. It would be the same this time. She had her family, her friends, her subjects were safe from the dark god now that he lost all interest on her-and on the Land of the Remembered, thankfully.

She didn’t need him.

From this day on, he was no longer her husband. He was a stranger.

She left.

She was gone.

He was alone.

In a fit of sorrowful rage, he destroyed nearly all of his bedchambers, anything unfortunate enough to be in front of him was either sliced in half, broken into splinters or shredded to pieces. His desk and bedside tables had been reduced to splinters, his curtains, pillows, mattress and blankets looked like they had been clawed by a lion and his walls had claw marks left from over his rampage. Finally, he let himself fall on top of his bed, cocooning himself in his wings, trying to hide from the outside world. His eyes had no more tears to shed, but his heart was torn apart, and he was broken.

He regretted what he had done deeply. The words he had told her haunted him and stung him like angry bees, the look of hurt and betrayal on her face was too much for him to bear. The very thought made his eyes moisten with tears. He wanted to go see her and beg for her forgiveness, but he stopped himself from doing it. She was with her family now, with those who loved her, she would be better off without him. Yet, the thought of her being with another man infuriated him and drove him mad. He wished he could regret ever meeting her and bringing her down, but he could not. He loved her too much, she was his light in this darkness he had to call home, she healed his wounds, she taught him how to love again, but now she was gone. He was all alone once again.

There was a knock on his door, but he didn’t reply. His throat was dry, and his voice was gone.

“My Lord?” it was Regina.

No reply.

The door creaked open, but he didn’t move a muscle. He didn’t want to see anyone at the moment. He heard her footsteps on his marble floor, and a tray being placed on his bedside table.

“I brought you something to eat.”

Again, he didn’t reply. He heard Regina sigh sadly and walk out of his room, closing the door behind her.

A small hiss caught his attention. Ponzoña slithered up his bed, and towards his hand. The two-headed snake glanced up at his master sadly, and rubbed its heads against his hand in an attempt to comfort him; Xibalba wished he could offer his snake at least a small smile, but he had not the heart. He was too broken for it. But he did stroke his pet’s heads gently. Curious at what Regina had brought to eat, the dark god shifted in bed so he could glance back at the tray. Grilled pike. One of his favorites. But he was not hungry.

Somehow he managed to make his way out of bed grabbing his purple robe, but he wrapped his wings around his body as he walked out of his room, and down the hall. He made his way towards La Muerte’s former room, his hand trembled as he reached out for the knob and turned it. Taking a deep breath, he pushed it open; surprisingly one part of him still expected to find his wife asleep on bed, or reading a book, which made it more painful for him to find it empty. Xibalba walked inside, glancing at the empty bed with a forlorn expression, recalling when he’d often find La Muerte asleep with a book in her lap, and he’d cover her with her blankets to keep her warm. In her hurry she had forgotten all of her things, but he guessed she had more dresses in the Land of the Remembered. Maybe she wouldn’t mind if he kept these to remember her.

He stepped on something. Xibalba lifted his feet to take a better look, and his eyes swelled up with tears when he found La Muerte’s wedding ring on the floor, forgotten. It was no surprise she had gotten rid of it. Gingerly, he picked up the golden ring with his claws and took a closer look at it. He wished he had given her a much more beautiful ring, but that was all in the past.

The tears finally rolled down his cheeks as he closed his fists on the ring, He missed her terribly, every moment he spent without her was Hell. Xibalba glanced at her bed once again, somehow he found himself walking towards it and laying down on top of it. It still smelt of marigolds and flowers. Xibalba ran his free hand on the duvet, holding the ring in his closed fist close to his chest. He caught the smell of her perfume, once more he cocooned himself in his wings. The smell brought him memories of La Muerte, of the night they spent together, when they expressed their love in the garden. There would no longer be any of those moments.

He could only dream of her. He could only dream of her kisses, her caresses, her warm breath as she whispered his name.

The warmth of the bed combined with that of his wings, and the sweet aroma of the woman he loved soon lulled him back to sleep.

A week passed.

A week ever since La Muerte abandoned Xibalba. Many people had different reactions to it. Sol was beyond happy that his daughter was free from that monster, Aimé was glad that her sister had returned home, while the rest of the pantheon couldn’t believe what had happened. How La Muerte could have been tricked by Xibalba, to think they had even started to believe he had truly changed for the better. Most of the Aztec pantheon cut off all interaction with him, except for a select few who had no other choice.

But Xibalba could care less about that. Emilio and the rest of his servants, as well as the closest things he had to friends in other pantheons (Epona among them) were getting worried about him. He never left his chambers, not even to work, barely ate (his room was full of trays of food, cold and untouched) and he didn’t react to anything. Nothing could make him get out of bed, not even when Roberto told him he had messed something up. That usually made the dark god bolt out of bed to yell at him, but now he didn’t even move a finger.

Xibalba now spent all the time on bed, except when he had to answer the call of nature, thinking about La Muerte and remembering her, which further stung at his heart. He hadn’t bothered to go for a bath. If anyone saw him in that state, they wither wouldn’t recognize him, or would scoff at how such a once-feared god could become such a pathetic creature.

He was almost the definition of the word pathetic itself. His feathers were all bristled and uncared for, his eyes were bloodshot and puffy from all the tears, and his moustache and beard were all disheveled and an authentic mess of tangles. He spent all his time cherishing on La Muerte’s discarded wedding ring, now hanging on a small chain around his neck.

La Muerte, meanwhile, wished she could say she was happy and had all but forgotten about him, but that would be lying. She denied it, she still tried to fight against it, but in her heart she knew she still loved Xibalba. Even if he only toyed with her, he had made her feel complete, he taught her a good lesson: to be herself. She did her best to show her family she was fine. She tried her best to act as the happy, kind princess she had always been, but that was only a mask, a mask to conceal her broken heart, and her forlorn expressions. There were a few things she would miss, Emilio and the other servants, Epona, the hounds… And even though she refused to admit it, she missed Xibalba.

Lately, though, something weird had been going on. She felt sick at her stomach, yesterday morning she woke up to a churn in her stomach and she rushed to her bathroom to throw the contents of her stomach from dinner up in the sink in the form of acidic vomit. She assumed she must have eaten a piece of underdone cheese, or undigested tacos. Speaking of which, she didn’t even like tacos that much anymore. Nor empanadas, enchiladas, or any of her favorite dishes; she had been asking for pastas and meats these days, everyone guessed that after almost a year of living down in Xibalba’s realm with only European food had something to do with it.

Today she was supposed to accompany Aimé to the orphanage, like all Saturdays. She was happy she would get to see all the children again after so much time, but she hoped her temper wouldn’t flare out of sudden, like it had been happening. After a small breakfast of French toast and orange juice, La Muerte and Aimé headed outside where a carriage was already waiting for them. The driver waved at the princesses with a friendly smile, to which they responded with a gently curtsy and gentle smiles. La Muerte’s smile nearly wavered when she remembered Roberto and Emilio as they drove Xibalba’s carriage, often bickering between themselves, but she kept her mask on.

After going into the carriage, the drive closed the door and climbed unto the drive’s seat, gently touching the horse’s rear with the light whip, signaling to move forward. He drove through the Remembered city, leading the horses through streets and crowds and seas of remembered souls. La Muerte would wave happily at the passing souls, watching fondly as they continued to enjoy the festivities. Soon after, the carriage stopped in front or a large building. The driver climbed down the seat to open the door for the princesses. La Muerte and Aimé climbed out of it, thanking the driver for bringing them, before he went back to the seat to wait for their return.

As soon as they crossed the large marble doors, crowds of children of all ages immediately gathered around the sisters, laughing and trying to call their attention. La Muerte smiled and kneeled down, receiving lots of hugs and kisses from the children.

“La Muerte!”

“Is it true you’re not leaving again?”

“I’m glad you’re back!”

La Muerte smiled. “I’m not leaving again, mis niños. I promise you.”

“Yaay!”

One little girl took notice of something. “Where is Beasty?”

Aimé glanced at the little girl in surprise. La Muerte would have loved to see Xibalba’s reaction to the nickname he had been given- she quickly shook the thought of him out of her head. La Muerte did her best to keep her warm smile on her face. “He’s… back home.”

“Why didn’t he come?”

“He was busy.”

“Marie, hush.” One of the female spirits who worked there scolded the child gently. “You shouldn’t be peeking your nose into other people’s business.”

“Don’t worry, Martha.” La Muerte said kindly. “I don’t mind.”

Aimé decided to change the topic, bringing up the basket they had brought. “So, everyone, who wants some biscuits?”

“Yay!”

As the children swarmed around Aimé, who giggled as she distributed the chocolate chip cookies among the children equally while telling them there were enough for everyone, La Muerte was ‘dragged’ aside by the hand by some of the other children who were a bit closer to her. She sat down in the table, surrounded by the kids. They were asking her all sort of things about the time she was gone, and she didn’t mind speaking about… certain things from the Land of the Forgotten.

“Are there parties down there?” a boy asked.

La Muerte shook her head sympathetically. “Not really. It’s very quiet and cold down there, the spirits down there… well, they are not fit for parties anymore.”

“Why not?” another boy asked.

“Well, they were very sad about not being parties at all.”

“So Beasty doesn’t like parties?”

Another one who mentioned Xibalba. “Not quite, he is very serious and would rather have peace and quiet.”

“So, all the spirits are always sad.”

“Not everyone. Xi- Beasty had a particular type of spirits who served him, they were mostly lizards.”

“Lizards?” a girl stuck out her tongue in disgust. “Eeww!”

La Muerte couldn’t help but giggle. “Don’t worry, they were actually very friendly. They all had affection for Beasty, and I came to see them as friends.”

“Did Beasty have animals there, like King Sosol?”

“Not many, but yes. He has a beautiful black horse named Medianoche and lots of dogs.”

“Was he nice?” a little boy inquired.

“He was a gentleman, though sometimes he did have his defects.” La Muerte felt someone tugging at her dress, and looked down to find one of the younger girls looking up at her innocently.

“La Muerte, would you draw with me?”

The goddess smiled down at the child. “Sure, sweetie.” But as she stood up to make her way down the hall, out of suddenly her consciousness started to fade away, and her vision faded to black as she fainted. Everyone grew alarmed as La Muerte suddenly lost consciousness, Aimé barely managed to catch her in time before she hit the ground.

“La Muerte!” she tried to make her older sister react, to no avail.

“Milady!” Martha and other female spirits rushed forward with worried expressions.

All the children had no idea of what had happened, soon the nurses were leading them away. Aimé asked the maids for water and alcohol, attempting to shake her sister awake, to no avail.

Chapter Text

Juarez was freaking out. He had rehearsed the words various times in his head, he had already thought what words he would use, but he still was afraid of giving the news to his master. Xibalba was already depressed enough, to have another burden unto him, be he’d be further angry if he kept this from him. When he was in front of the doors, Juarez gulped for the fifth time that day, as he knocked loudly. “My Lord?” No reply. “Lord Xibalba are you okay?” Again, no one replied. Worried, Juarez opened the door and found his master still on bed, all the trays of food either on the ground or on top of his furniture, untouched as always.

“My Lord, I hate to… interrupt you, but there’s something urgent that needs your immediate attention!”

There was a long silence, before Xibalba finally spoke. “What?” his voice was hoarse, as if so much sobbing had made his throat hurt. It did, actually.

Juarez gulped and prepared himself for potential yelling and cursing. “Medianoche is ill.”

No matter how depressed he could be, Xibalba would never disregard something that involved any of his animals, they were family to him. As soon as he heard Juarez mentioning the word ‘ill’ he sat up on his bed and gave the lizard an alarmed look. “What do you mean that he is ill?”

“He won’t eat, he’s been on the ground for days and no matter what I do he won’t move!”

Xibalba didn’t need any more explanations. He immediately stood from bed, quickly grabbing his purple bathrobe and putting in on, then he took flight and flew down the castle halls, out into the main courtyard and into the stable; he was met with a bitter cold air, but he didn’t mind. Xibalba landed just in the door of his horse’s stall and took a look inside. Juarez had not been exaggerating; Medianoche did look as if he were ill. He lay down completely on the ground without moving a muscle, his shiny coat had become slightly dull, and he looked like he was very weak.

“Medianoche…” the dark god stepped into the stable and sat down next to his horse. “What’s wrong, chico?” he ran a hand down the stallion’s neck, and noticed he was slightly cold.

Medianoche simply snorted weakly. Xibalba noticed he was staring towards the direction of Blanca’s now empty stall with longing, soon he figured what was wrong with his horse. Guess he was not the only one who missed his woman…

“There, it’s okay, boy.” He whispered soothingly, stroking the horse’s head. “I know you miss her. I miss La Muerte too.” He tried to think of something to cheer him up. Maybe… Xibalba closed his hand into a fist, and when he opened it there were three sugar cubes on his palm. He lowered it to Medianoche’s lips. “Here, boy, do you want some sugar cubes?”

Normally, Medianoche would never reject sugar cubes, but he was so sad he moved his head away from his master’s hand, snorting. Xibalba tried a few more times, before realizing his horse was not on the mood for treats right now. Sighing, Xibalba stood up and placed the sugar cubes into the bucket where Medianoche’s oats were, and grabbed a large horse blanket made of purple silk, unfolding it to cover his horse with it and protect him from the freezing temperatures. Speaking of which, the cold was catching up to him, as well as Juarez; the lizard stopped just in front of the stall, panting heavily and wiping some sweat off his bony brow as he regained his breath.

“He is depressed, My Lord.” He finally managed to speak.

“I can see that.” Xibalba replied, staring sadly at his steed. “What do you suggest?”

“Well… In my *pant* opinion, we should *pant* try to lift his spirits *pant* a bit. But Perhaps Lady *pant* Epona can give us a better advice!”

Xibalba knew he was right, if someone could lend him a hand with Medianoche right now, that was Epona, no one knew more about horses than her, but he was reluctant to bother her with his problems. “I will write to her later. For now feed him some alfalfa and try to make him stand. Inform me if he gets worse or better; anyway I will be paying him regular visits.”

Juarez was glad to hear that, at least his master wouldn’t stay on bed all day anymore. “As you wish, My Lord.”

When another cold air blew, Xibalba shivered and tied his bathrobe tighter around him, wrapping his wings around his body as he went back inside. He wanted to get back to bed as soon as possible, but as he stepped inside the castle suddenly waves of memories of La Muerte returned to him, remembering when she first crossed the threshold grabbed unto his arm for the first time. His chest started to ache once again, and he lost all energy and motivation to do anything. He just wanted to get back to his room and hide from everything, but as he was passing by the library doors something made him stop, and go inside to take a look. The library was still intact as the last time he and…

There was a book on the table. Curious, he approached and picked it up to take a look at it. It was Romeo and Juliet. He recalled when he caught La Muerte reading it during her first day here, and the encounter didn’t exactly go smoothly; how he wished he could laugh about it, but he didn’t have the heart. He had never read this thing, but La Muerte had made it sound… romantic. He had never liked romance novels, but… well maybe he’d find what made La Muerte like this book so much. Xibalba left the library and returned to his chambers with the book in hand. Closing the door behind him, he went to the sofa next to his chimney and sat down, opening the book from the first page and starting to read.

He was always a fast reader, devouring long books in a matter of hours, and it wasn’t different in this occasion. He had to admit, Shakespeare was not as a bad poet as he originally thought. He read through the enmity between the Houses of Capulet and Montague, the sprouting love between Romeo and Juliet during a ball hosted by the former’s family, their marriage in secret, Tybalt and Mercutio’s deaths which led to Romeo’s exile, the plan, and… that’s when he noticed one of the corners from the page was folded. Had she not read it past this point, or she didn’t get to finish reading it? He was reluctant to continue, but yet something urged him to. He skipped to the next page.

Unexpectedly, things turned sour after this point. The plan to inform Romeo of the Plan suffered a complication due to a plague, and he truly believed Juliet to be dead. Afterwards, he bought poison from an apothecary and returned in secret to Juliet’s funeral to kill himself and join her in death, only for Juliet to wake up and find her beloved dead, then giving in to grief and despair as she stabbed herself to be with him once and for all.

He was… speechless. He had never liked happily ever after endings for being too unrealistic, according to him, but he didn’t like this either, even if it was quite how real life worked. It just… wasn’t fair. All that trouble only for them to end up dead? What was Shakespeare thinking? If he had read this before, he would have probably disregarded it as typical human nonsense, just killing themselves because the other died. He still remembered the argue he had with La Muerte over it all those months ago.

“They were in love. When people love they’d do anything for their loved ones.”

“Please, no one in their sane judgment throws their life away for another, they could simply find another person to be with, and problem solved! Clean slate!”

“Love is not like that, Xibalba. You can’t just replace someone you loved like you would replace a broken vase.”

“Love causes nothing but pain and suffering. It’s better never to love and save yourself the pain.”

“You’re wrong. Love brings joy and happiness to people, it binds them together-“

“And tears them apart a few years, maybe even months, later. Besides, it makes you weak, makes it easier for others to take advantage of you.”

“So you don’t believe in love at all?”

“No, and I’ll never believe in it.”

How ironic. How cruelly ironic. He said he’d never believe in love, and months later he ends up madly in love with La Muerte. He might as well start calling her his Juliet, but he lamented the fact she would no longer consider him her Romeo. He was in love with a fairytale, she was his angel, the love of his life. He remembered when his mother used to read him fairytales as a child when his father wasn’t home, his favorite had been Beauty and the Beast. How Belle had broken the Beast’s curse with her true love; how he wished it could have been the same with him, but alas, that was only a fantasy. It hurt.

His hand reached out for the ring hanging around his neck, fidgeting it tenderly, it was the only thing he would ever have of his wife, it was like having her close to his heart, quite literally in this case. Even if she did forget about him and make her life with another, he never would. He’d never look at other women the same way, he’d never touch anyone like he touched her. Xibalba stood up from his chair to head back to bed, laying back down and hiding beneath his covers, pulling one of La Muerte’s scented pillows close to him, which he had brought to his chambers in order to remember her. Xibalba closed his eyes while resting his head on the pillow, again inhaling her perfume as he went back to sleep.

He could only be with her in his dreams.

The smell of alcohol coming into her nostrils soon brought La Muerte back from unconsciousness. Her vision was spinning and her head ached slightly as her eyelids cracked open, and she saw shadows around her. When her eyes adjusted to the light she identified her sister and the nurses from the orphanage, all looking down at her with worried expressions. That was when she noticed she was on one of the long couches in the drawing room. Aimé placed the napkin with alcohol aside and hugged her older sister in worry. “Big sis, are you okay?”

La Muerte didn’t know what to say. Heck, she didn’t even remember what happened! “What… What happened…?” was all she managed to stutter.

“You lost consciousness out of sudden, milady.” Martha explained with concern.

“I fainted…?”

“Are you feeling alright, milady? Have you not been ill these days?” another nursemaid inquired.

“No, no, I’m okay.” La Muerte smiled in reply. “I’m thankful of your concern, but I’m just a little tired, that’s all.”

Aimé knew it was their cue. “We should go back to the castle, big sis.” She glanced at the head of the nursemaids apologetically. “I’m sorry, Miss Thompson, we’re going to have to cut this visit short today.”

The spirit smiled, understanding. “No se preocupe, milady. One’s health must always come first. The children will understand.”

La Muerte was disappointed that her first visit after so many months had to be postponed like this, but she didn’t protest as she and her sister went back outside towards the carriage, smiling back at the nursemaids and thanking them for their time. Aimé helped her sister walk towards the carriage, the coachman immediately hopped down the driver’s seat and opened the door for the goddesses to climb inside. As the door closed and the carriage advanced, the sisters continued to talk.

“What happened, Muertita?” Aimé inquired. “You really scared us.”

La Muerte sighed and massaged her temples. “I’m sorry, Amy, I don’t… I was just going to draw with that niña and out of sudden everything went black.”

“Have you been getting enough sleep and food?”

“Yes… Well, sort of. You know I’ve been acting rather picky with food these days.”

“Hey, La Muerte… I don’t mean to make you worry, but…” Aimé wasn’t sure if she did the right thing to mention this to her sister. “Have you considered the possibility of…? You know, since you and… him…”

La Muerte knew what she meant. “No, no, I don’t think so.”

“But it could be… just think about it, the morning sickness, the cravings, and you just had a fainting spell.”

“I’m just a bit stressed out, that’s all. I have to take some rest, I’ll be fine.”

“Maybe you’re right, but if daddy finds out about your symptoms he might get another idea.”

“Please don’t tell him about it! I don’t want him to find out what happened between me and Xibalba, it would break his heart!”

Aimé smiled and grabbed her sister’s hand reassuringly. “Don’t worry. You’re my sister, I’d never do that. Hopefully you’re right and you’re only stressed out by what’s been happening.”

La Muerte smiled at her little sister and pulled her close for a hug. But her words had made her worry a bit. Could it be? She had to admit, she didn’t completely disapprove of the possibility, but she was afraid of what might happen if that was the case. Soon the carriage stopped in front of the castle, and the driver opened the door for the sisters to climb out. Aimé led her older sister upstairs and inside the castle, towards the throne room.

“Amy, I thought we were going to my room.” La Muerte noticed.

“Well, yeah, but maybe… You know, you should get something to eat first.” Aimé stated, trying to contain a giggle.

When they arrived at the door that led into the throne room, La Muerte had the feeling something was going on, especially when she caught the mischievous glint in her little sister’s eyes. Was she up to something? Now that she thought about it, she had not seen any servants around either, where was everyone? She pushed the doors open with a small wave of her hand, and stepped inside; it was suspiciously dark…

“SORPRESA!”

La Muerte jumped when out of sudden hundreds of voices cried out and the lights lit up, the curtains lifting to let more light into the throne room. Everything was decorated in the manner of a party, with colorful red and golden balloons, the confetti and streamers of endless colors that had started to rain down from the ceiling, the banquet table with all of her favorite foods, recently prepared, and a large sign hanging above the throne that read ‘WELCOME BACK’ in big, black letters. Around the place there were spirits of all ages, children, women and men, all cheering and clapping their hands cheerfully for her, while King Sol approached his daughters with a wide, welcoming smile.

La Muerte couldn’t believe it. “F-Father…” Her eyes were moistening with tears of joy, moved by this gesture.

“Everyone wanted to show you how happy they are for your return, mija.” Sol took his daughter’s shoulders gently. “It took us a few hours to get ready, though, so I asked Amy to keep you busy.”

Aimé blushed, giggling a bit.

“I don’t know what to say…” La Muerte sniffled, wiping some of the tears with the sleeve of her dress. “Thank you, everyone!”

“Do not cry, my dear. This is a time to celebrate! Come now, the cooks made your favorite dishes for this occasion!”

Smiling, La Muerte grabbed unto her sister’s hand and the two of them followed their father to one of the tables just as the musicians started to play. La Muerte enjoyed herself for the evening, chatting with all the spirits that came to greet her and sometimes leaving her seat to hug the children, or even lifting them to her lap. She did her best to keep her symptoms at bay, the last thing she needed was her father finding out; but all her favorite-or rather, former-dishes were all laid out in front of her, perfectly crispy and warm, ready for consuming. But it would be too suspicious if she rejected them; she’d have to cope this one time. She served herself some empanadas, tamale and enchiladas spiced with a bit of pico de gallo, accompanied with champurrado.

“La Muerte, there’s something I’ve been wanting to discuss with you.” Sol commented after a while.

“What is it, father?” she inquired, taking a bite from her cheese empanada, containing the urge to spit it back out, swallowing it.

“As you know, your birthday will be coming in a few more days, and I was thinking on throwing a large banquet to celebrate.”

“That’s how we’ve celebrated birthdays, you know. Why do you ask me?”

“Well, since you have now in the process of separation from Xibalba, I have been thinking to invite all the single gods to introduce you as a marriage candidate.”

This time, La Muerte did gag on her food, and had to quickly pick up her napkin and take it to her lips to contain her coughs. Aimé looked down uncertain, she had the feeling of what was going to happen.

“What?” La Muerte asked, not believing it.

“I mean, we would wait until your divorce is absolute for an actual wedding to take place, but I think you should start thinking on finding a potential new husband, don’t you think?”

“Father! I’ve just separated and you’re already wanting to play matchmaker?”

“It’s only so that you may consider other options, my dear. I’m not asking you to remarry another immediately, only that you try and find someone you could possibly share your life with, for love this time.”

Her stomach churned at the idea. La Muerte just didn’t feel like looking for a new husband right now, she was still too hurt about Xibalba’s betrayal to even think about going around to look for other men. “I’m not sure about it.”

“Just think about it, mija. There are so many gods who would give anything to be with you. You deserve someone who truly loves you and can take care of you. I’m just asking you to give it a chance. Maybe it’ll do good for you to meet other people.”

She still didn’t like the idea, she was still married to Xibalba (as much as she disliked the idea) and she had principles, she was against seeing other men while being a married woman, but then again they were not going to court her, it was just a ball. It could be a good chance to move on with her life, anyway. Her mother would have wanted her to go on. 

“Very well.”

Chapter Text

The smell of the flowers made him relax, but the sight that actually captivated him was that of his wife, his beloved La Muerte, sitting on top of a small trunk in the middle of the flower field. Her beautiful dark hair caught the sunlight like a siren, while her voice as she hummed a small tune made his heart flutter and soar. Grinning mischievously, he approached her from behind silently. La Muerte had been collecting some flowers when she heard gentle footsteps behind her, she had the idea of who he was; smiling, she turned around in time as he picked her up by the waist and twirled her around, the both of them laughing until finally he fell on top of the flowers, La Muerte on top of him.

He didn’t mind, however, he pulled her in for a playful kiss, which she gladly returned. Finally, they had to pull back to regain their breaths; Xibalba smiled as he stroked his wife’s cheek. “Mi amor, I’ve missed you so much…”

“You did?” She asked him playfully, her finger twirling his moustache.

“La Muerte, about those things I said, I-“ he was surprised when she placed a finger on his lips.

“I know why you did it. I forgive you.”

His eyes were swelling up with tears. “You mean it?”

“I mean it, you silly.”

They leaned in for another kiss…

La Muerte woke up with a start. She was not sweating, but she was mildly startled by what just happened. It was still late in the night, her lights were out, and her curtains from both her window, balcony door and bed were closed so she could better rest. What had just happened? She knew it was just a dream, but somehow, something made her feel it so real… She couldn’t understand it. She repeated once and again that she now felt nothing but scorn for Xibalba, but her heart told her otherwise, told her that he loved her, screamed at her to go to him. But she resisted. He had made himself clear that he only used her, and never loved, nor even cared for her.

Her thoughts were interrupted when out of sudden her stomach flipped, and the contents from today’s dinner started to come up. Taking a hand to her mouth, La Muerte quickly left bed and rushed towards her bathroom, turning on the lights of the bathroom as she headed to the toilet just in time to vomit the contents of her stomach. It took a minute before her stomach settled down, and she could flush the sink. Damn it, it was the ninth time this month…

She was very, very worried now. She had hoped this morning sickness and nauseas were only because off rotten food, but she was starting to doubt. It couldn’t be, they couldn’t be serving rotten food without realizing it, the cooks were very meticulous in the ingredients they picked and the preparation of the food, never had they served any food that made people ill. She remembered her conversation with Aimé two weeks ago on their way back from the orphanage. But the thought was frightening.

Not that she disliked the idea, she had always wanted to be a mother, but… in her current situation she didn’t know what would happen, how her father would react if he found out. She herself wasn’t sure if her suspicions were correct or if she was just making crazy assumptions, but she had to be certain. Speaking of which, after that throw up her throat was aching and feeling a bit acidic, not to mention out of sudden she craved for something sweet.

La Muerte put on her bathrobe and slid her small feet into her slippers, made her way out of her room and walked down the hall. At that hour all the servants were asleep, and she wouldn’t bother them just for a craving. She made her way down to the desert kitchen, turning on the lights with a wave of her hand, walking over to the fridge to take a look inside. She saw a complete slice of chocolate ice cream cake. She took the slice out of the fridge and walked to the marble counter, taking out a fork from out of the drawers. She cut a small bit of the slice to take it into her mouth, the sweetness of the ice cream mixed with the chocolate and vanilla sated her craving and lifted her spirits a bit.

“Hey.”

La Muerte lifted her gaze from the dessert and found her sister on the doorway, Aimé often came down to the kitchen for a late night snack at the same time as her, though it was unintentional, they always seized the opportunity to have some late night sister bonding time. “You can’t sleep either, Amy?”

“Not quite.” Aimé yawned, heading over to the counter and leaning on it to talk with her older sister. “I’m worried about what daddy said, wanting to invite all those bachelors to your birthday…”

“I admit, maybe it isn’t such a good idea after all…”

“I mean, he should wait a bit longer, your divorce hasn’t been approved yet.”

“He says it could take a while. Separations between gods are very rare, remember?”

“Say, La Muerte… I think you should know this.”

La Muerte glanced at her sister. “Know what?”

“Well…” Aimé wasn’t certain if she should tell her, but she already knew the answer. They had sworn ever since they were little that they would never keep secrets from one another. “I overheard daddy speak with Lord Tezcatlipoca. The reason it’s taking so long it’s because… Because…”

“Come on, Amy, you can tell me.”

“X-Xibalba doesn’t give his approval!”

La Muerte’s smile disappeared and her hand stayed in mid air, holding the fork with the piece of cake. “He… what?”

“They’ve already sent him the papers through the month, but either he doesn’t reply, or he sends them shredded and torn. It’s like he doesn’t want to….”

La Muerte scoffed. “He just probably doesn’t want to hand over his ‘property’.” There was bitterness, but overall hurt, in her voice.

“Can you be certain of that?”

“He said it clearly, he only saw me as property he could discard when he got bored with it. He probably doesn’t want me to start over with someone who can actually make me happy.”

“Hermana…”

La Muerte felt her eyes were swelling up with tears. She decided to change the subject. “Hey, Amy, I wanted to ask you for a favor.”

“Sure, what is it?”

“Could you accompany me to the physician tomorrow?”

Aimé grew alarmed. “Are you ill? Or is it because of your nausea and all the other things?”

“Both things, sort of. I need to know what is wrong.”

“But Muertita… What are you doing to do if it’s what we think?”

“I don’t know, Amy…” La Muerte sighed, rubbing her forearms. “I don’t know.”

“Big sis, whatever happens, don’t forget I will always be there for you.” Aimé smiled as she approached her older sister, placing her hand on her shoulder. La Muerte smiled and embraced her sister tightly, allowing a few tears to roll down her cheeks. It was good to know she had someone to count on.

Xibalba’s screams of pain echoed through his castle. Another epileptic attack had caught him by surprise, but this time it was both unexpected and much more grave than usual. So much the lizards had no other choice but to tie his arms and legs to his bed frame (after lying him on his side), they even had to gag him lest he bite off his tongue. Xibalba bit down into the rag with his eyes closed shut, his wings flapping unwillingly and wildly, letting out muffled screams of agony.

“Hang on, My Lord!” Emilio said, watching as Lorenzo did his best to keep the dark god on his side while avoiding being hit by his furiously flapping wings.

Despite his state, Xibalba managed to glare daggers at Emilio, and growled an incomprehensible thing through the gag, though Emilio knew him enough to tell he was saying ‘what do you think I’m trying to do?!’.

Finally, after ten minutes (the longest one of his seizures had lasted) the contracting stopped and his muscles relaxed, all sore from his episode. He was sweating heavily, spitting out the rag from his mouth and taking deep breaths to regain the lost air while Roberto and Luis untied his arms and legs. Once he was free, Xibalba went back to lying on his back and relaxed, closing his eyes and trying his best to calm down. Damn it, it had been so long ever since he had a seizure this worse, and it seemed it would only get even worst than this. Just then, there was a knock on the door. Oh, great, just in the least opportune moment.

“Come in.” he growled, taking his bathrobe and covering his torso with it.

An old god, apparently even older than Itzamna himself, walked into the room, but unlike Itzamna he had a more European air to him, his long red beard nearly touched the floor, and he wore a crown of branches and leaves, as well as an old robe of earthy colors that contrasted with his light reddish skin. He had tended to Xibalba’s family for centuries, particularly Xibalba himself during his childhood due to his father’s punishments, and as well as Selena during her pregnancies.

“Asclepius, so nice to see you.” Xibalba sighed, though the old god noticed the sarcasm.

“What did you do know, kiddo?” Asclepius inquired, still calling him like how he used to do when he was a child.

Seeing his master would not cooperate, Emilio decided to speak for him. “He got another seizure, My Lord, and this one lasted much longer.”

“How much?”

“Ten minutes.”

Xibalba rolled his eyes. “Seriously, Emilio, you’re exaggerating.”

“Exaggerating? You nearly tore your bedframe apart!” Roberto stated.

“Knock it off, all of you!” Asclepius stated, glancing at the lizards. “I’ll take a look at him, meanwhile bring some mistletoe tea mixed it with some valerian root and lily of the valley.”

“Claro, jefe.” Roberto muttered sarcastically, only to yelp in pain when Lorenzo grabbed him by the fin and led him out, Emilio and Luis going after them, closing the door behind them.

Xibalba sighed once they were alone, he already knew the ‘routine’ for his check-ups. He lay down on bed, stretching out his wings and relaxing all of his muscles, trying to clear his head of any thoughts. Asclepius waited until his ‘patient’ got ready, and then he placed his hand on his forehead; it glowed a pale blue as he took a look through Xibalba’s brain; since his epilepsy was caused by a traumatic brain injury, his seizures were completely unpredictable and varied in intensity, but lately all his seizures became more frequent, and more dangerous; in one occasion he nearly struck Regina in one of his attacks, though one of his wings did knock another lizard out, and it took them two hours to reassemble him.

Xibalba gave deep but slow breaths, clutching unto his sheets when Asclepius’ spell coursed through his brain, giving him a slight headache, which in about half-an-hour would turn into a migraine. Asclepius continuing to soothe his brain cells, it would stop the frequency of his seizures, but then he took notice of something. A few seconds later he finally stopped his inspection, and moved his hand away.

“So how was it?” Xibalba said, sighing.

“Have you been under a lot of stress lately?” Asclepius inquired.

“I think ruling a kingdom is stressful enough, don’t you think?”

“But I mean more than usual. Don’t forget what I told you, though seizures just happen anytime and always when you least expect them, the more stressed you are, the more likely you are to suffer a seizure.”

Xibalba shifted uncomfortably, rubbing his temples and muttering something about him not understanding. Asclepius’s spell was not for reading minds, it was only an advanced healing spell for the damaged part of his brain, but the old god could tell he was upset by something. Very upset. He noticed a golden ring hanging around his neck.

“Xibalba, where is your wife, now that I recall?” Asclepius inquired. “I have not seen it ever since I arrived. What was her name again…?”

At the mention of his wife, Xibalba felt his chest starting to ache in longing yet again, and he grabbed the gold ring, looking away. “Gone.”

“I see…” Asclepius had to admit. He was always the last god to find out of things that happened among the rest of the pantheons. He didn’t need an expert to figure out what was bothering Xibalba, he had enough experience to now Xibalba would probably try to avoid the conversation and change the topic.

“So, any special care or something?” Xibalba asked out of sudden, changing the topic.

Asclepius sighed. “For now stay in bed and rest, for two days, at least. I will be telling your servants that you need two cups of valerian root teas a day, they may add a bit of sugar in case it’s too bitter. And at night, a cup of burning bush tea.”

“Couldn’t you have picked a more bitter thing?” Xibalba growled, he had never liked the herbal teas he had been prescribed for his epilepsy, but alas, what could he do about it? It was his health they were talking about, after all.

“Stop complaining, it could have been much worse.”

“Whatever.”

As Asclepius left the room, going to talk with Emilio (who stayed outside the whole time, as it turned out), Xibalba was left alone in his room. His grip on the ring softened, he couldn’t help but wonder what La Muerte was doing right now. Probably being courted by hundreds of perfect suitors who offered their abundant kingdoms, riches and other things he could only ever dream of affording. The thought bothered him, but if that’s what would make her happy, he guessed he’d have to cope with it. A few minutes later, the door creaked open and Regina entered holding a cup of hot tea.

“Did Asclepius leave his long list of instructions of proper care again?” he asked.

“Don’t tease him, he took the bother to come at this hour.” Regina scolded him mildly, handing him over the cup.

As Xibalba was about to take a sip, he recalled the first time La Muerte witnesses his epilepsy after a small fencing match- Argh! Why couldn’t he stop thinking about her?! He even recalled the tea she brewed for him afterwards, it was delicious; as soon as he took the first sip, his expression distorted in disgust at the incredibly bitter taste. “PUAJ! What the heck did you put in here?!”

“Asclepius told me to make sure you drank it.” Regina crossed her arms, raising an eyebrow. “He knows you still dispose of your medicines in the sink.”

Xibalba cursed under his breath and kept staring at the black liquid; that doctor knew him as the palm of his hand, he recalled when he was a child and try to get rid of his medicines but was always caught. His mother would gently scold him, and Asclepius would stay to make sure he did take his pills this time. Yet, he’d trust his life to this doctor, he had treated him and his family for centuries, even Akrinok was a frequent patient when his battles left scars and wounds on him.

Oh, well, the sooner he drank it, the sooner he’d get it over with. Xibalba drank the tea with one gulp, and contained the urge to throw up at the horrible taste, quickly handing the cup back to Regina and sticking out his tongue. Regina couldn’t help but smile a little, it was just like when he was five. Once he could get rid of the taste from his tongue, Xibalba lay back down on his bed, relaxing. Assuming her master would want to rest, the lizard headed towards the door, but as she was about to leave the room, Xibalba called out to her. “Wait.”

She turned around when he called her. “Is it something else you need, My Lord?”

Xibalba was staring at her with a stoic expression, but there was a strange gleam on his eyes. She saw sadness and longing and… pleading? “Remember how you used to sing when mother passed?”

Unbeknown to outsiders and most people, Regina had a beautiful singing voice. She was very reserved, however, and she rarely, if ever, sang, she assumed Xibalba considered himself old for ‘silly baby songs’ and so decided to keep her songs to herself, though she did hum little tunes every now and then. “I do, but why do you ask?”

Damn it, he felt like an idiot. “Could… Well, if you don’t mind… Would you sing something for me?”

Regina was caught off guard by the request. Why did he ask her that after all these years? But the look on his face… it made her recall the teary glance he’d give her after waking up from a nightmare as a child, silently asking her to sing a lullaby for him like Selena used to do. She had the feeling this had more to do with La Muerte, however; as much as he could try, he would never deceive her, she knew that he was dying for his beloved wife, he wanted her back, but he refused to even write her a letter. He was still bent on that ridiculous idea that she would never love him, when La Muerte had many times showed quite the contrary, even said so herself. But right now Regina didn’t have the heart to give him a sermon, and much less with the pleading look he was giving her unknowingly. “Is there any song you’d like in particular?”

It took Xibalba a while to answer. “…Could you sing the one… she sang once?”

She knew it. He missed her, and tried to fill the void of her absence however he could. Regina was so compassionate, however, she did not try to convince him otherwise. She headed over to his bed and climbed on it, pulling up the sheet to cover him, while starting to sing.

Think of me, think of me fondly

When we’ve said goodbye

Remember me, once in a while

Please, promise me you’ll try

Xibalba couldn’t help it, when he heard the song his eyes started swelling up with tears. He still remembered when she sang to him, taking care of him after he was injured by the Forgotten Beasts, when he developed high fever and she stayed by his side all night, caring for him like his mother used to do. He remembered her angelical voice, her gentle hand stroking his cheek, even though he was acting all stubborn at that time, he appreciated her attentions. 

Again his hand reached out for La Muerte’s ring, his fingers fidgeted with it tenderly. He missed her with all his being, he would never be able to rip her from his heart, he loved her too much.

When you find that once again you long

To take your heart back and be free

If you ever find a moment

Spare a thought for me

As Regina continued to sing, Xibalba embraced La Muerte’s scented pillow, and soon went back to sleep.

The next morning, at about ten o’ clock, La Muerte and Aimé told their father they were going out for a morning carriage ride and spend some sisterly time together. Thankfully, Sol thought it was a good idea, it would drive his daughter’s thoughts away from her horrid husband, and wished them to have fun while going to receive some new arrivals. They headed over to the carriage, which was already waiting for them outside, and it went on its way. The doctor they’d visit was the family doctor, Doctor Chamán, he was very renown across the pantheon, his specialty were pregnancies, but he had dominion over every medical field. He had treated Queen Esperanza when she was pregnant with both her daughters, and predicted the exact date of birth of both girls. In other words, he was a trustworthy, honest god.

Doctor Chamán lived in the part of the Remembered City where the rich families (or at least those who had been rich in life) lived, and he gladly treated any spirits who needed medical advice, even though they were dead and illnesses were completely rare and scarce. The carriage stopped in front of a small victorian-looking manor, and the coachman helped the princess climb out. La Muerte and Aimé climbed up the stairs, though Aimé stuck close to her sister in case she had a fainting spell again, and knocked the door when they were in front of the red doors.

“Coming!” a male voice called from the other side, and a few seconds later an old god who still had vestiges of youth in his face opened the door. “Can I help you?”

La Muerte and Aimé pulled back the hoods of their cloaks. Doctor Chamán instantly recognized them.

“Princesses? My, what a surprise!” he laughed, giving them the correspondent bow. La Muerte and Aimé smiled, they were glad to see him after so long.

“It’s nice to see you, doctor.” La Muerte said, smiling.

“Why, please come inside!” Doctor Chamán led the sisters inside his home and closed the door. The inside of his house was spacious and elegant, it had almost a medieval air to it, with a mixture of his Aztec heritage. He could tell this was not only a particular visit, however. “Is there something I can help you with, my ladies?”

“Actually, doctor, my sister would like that you check on her.”

He grew alarmed. “Oh, my! Is something wrong?”

“I’m not certain, I’ve been having certain… symptoms.” La Muerte replied nervously, trying to wrap herself further in her cloak.

“What kind of symptoms?”

La Muerte was hesitant, but Aimé squeezed her hand reassuringly. Finally she gathered the courage to speak. “I’ve been vomiting in the late hours of the night, or very early in the morning, I’ve fainted a few times out of sudden, and lately my taste for food has been a bit… picky.”

“Anything else? Any detail could be important.”

“Well, I…” there were a few things she hadn’t mentioned yet. “My… My period, it’s… it’s overdue, but two days ago I found a few drops of blood on my”

Doctor Chamán nodded solemnly. He had the feeling of what as going on. “My lady, would you allow me to do a small test?”

“What kind of test?”

He sighed. “My Lady, I think you’re enceinte.”

La Muerte’s eyes grew wide. Aimé took a hand to her lips in utter shock. “A-Are you certain?”

“The symptoms you have are related to pregnancy, but to be certain I need to make you a pregnancy test.”

She was afraid. What if it was positive? There so many probabilities of what might happen, if it was found she was expecting… Her father was no fool, he’d realize how she got pregnant, he’d realize the real reason she left Xibalba. But she had to be certain. Finally, La Muerte nodded. “Very well, doctor.” She sat down on the couch. “You may do the test.”

Doctor Chamán nodded and walked closer to the goddess, placing his hand on top of her belly, and a magic aura emanated from his hand. Pregnancy tests in gods were simple, it consisted of a simple spell that could detect an aura within another; unlike humans and mortals, when gods conceived, the unborn child already developed an aura different from that of his mother’s, sometimes it was hard to detect if it was done too soon. If the aura on the doctor’s hand glowed blue, it was a positive result, if nothing happened, it was a false alarm. As much as La Muerte longed to be a mother, right now she was hoping with all her might it was just a false alarm, and she imply had stomach problems. Now was not a good time for her to bear a child. Doctor Chamán was running his hand down her abdomen, checking for anything strange within her; a few minutes passed, and relief started to overcome her, maybe it was just a false alarm…

But then the aura turned a bright blue.

La Muerte froze, trembling lightly as she saw the blue light emanating from the doctor’s hand. Aimé gasped in shock, and quickly grabbed her sister’s hand to offer her some physical comfort. Doctor Chamán removed his hand from La Muerte’s abdomen, and turned to her solemnly.

“My Lady, you’re 5 weeks pregnant.”

Chapter Text

On their way back to the castle, La Muerte was silent in shock and dread the whole trip, no matter how much Aimé tried to comfort her and told her everything was going to be alright. Her hands were on top of her abdomen, just where Doctor Chamán had placed his hand and found a tiny life inside, growing and nourishing. She could not believe it, she still had trouble processing the news; if only the circumstances were different, she’d be the happiest woman, but right now the last thing she needed was a baby.

This did not mean she did not love her baby. A baby was always a blessing, no matter the situation, and when she learned she was with a child, that very moment all her maternal instincts awakened from their dormant state within her heart, and she felt nothing but motherly love, adoration for this tiny being in her womb, she felt the need to protect it from all harm and whoever wanted to hurt it. But the knowledge of who the child’s father was… That was the thing that was bothering her the most.

She didn’t know what she’d do now. But one thing was for certain, she’d have this child. She said it once, she repeated again. She did not need Xibalba, she’d raise her little son or daughter herself, and she’d teach him/her morals and principles. She wouldn’t let his genes spoil her little one.

As they climbed out of the carriage, La Muerte and Aimé immediately headed upstairs, and went straight to the former’s room. Luckily Sol was making all the preparations for La Muerte’s birthday ball, and he did not notice his daughters’ anxiety and worry when he greeted them as they came back. As soon as they were back upstairs, Aimé locked the doors of her sister’s room to make sure no one would hear their following conversation; La Muerte sat down on the edge of the bed, her hands still on her abdomen.

“La Muerte, are you sure you are okay?” Aimé asked her sister worriedly. “You haven’t said a word ever since we left Doctor Chamán’s place.”

“I’m alright, Amy…” La Muerte whispered. Her eyes were stinging with tears, but these were neither too joyful nor too painful, she was in between. “But I just… I don’t know…”

“It’s his, isn’t it?”

Holding back a sob, she nodded. She was carrying Xibalba’s child.

“What are you going to do, big sis?” Aimé sat down next to La Muerte, holding her hand. “Are you going to tell Xibalba-?”

“No.” Her gaze hardened. “He’ll never know.”

“But it’s his child, I think he has the right to know-“

“For what? I doubt he’ll take responsibility, he would certainly mandarme al demonio, I’m not going to go through that humiliation. I don’t need him, I can raise my child by myself.”

“And you know you have all my support, sis, but… I mean, what are you going to do when Father finds out…?”

Her anger was replaced by worry and fear. Aimé was right. King Sol was a firm believer of the old customs, of decency; he didn’t take pregnancy out of wedlock lightly… She had been married when she had sexual intercourse with Xibalba, that was right, but to him it would be like bedding with someone out of wedlock. She knew her father was no fool, when the months passed by her state would be given away by her panza, Sol would realize what had truly happened between her and Xibalba… She even thought he’d be capable of giving her child away to ‘conceal her shame’. “I don’t know, Amy…” She was afraid of what he would say. Of what everyone would say.

“I don’t think keeping it a secret it’s a good idea. If Father finds out by himself, he won’t be happy.”

“I know, I just… I need to wait for the right moment…”

“But how? You know that it ruins his plans of you finding a new husband, I don’t think he’ll take it lightly…”

“Well, it could be a chance to get rid of all those suitors…” La Muerte sighed. No god would want to raise Xibalba’s child, his reputation was too fearsome and dark, they wouldn’t want to imagine what he had passed down unto the baby. It might was well turn out to be just like his father, but La Muerte would make sure it didn’t happen. From this moment and on, her top priority would be the wellbeing and safety of the baby; if anyone wanted to be by her side, they’d have to accept her child. Aimé figured her sister wanted to be alone for a while, so she kissed her cheek gently and then stood up, heading to the door and leaving the room. La Muerte sighed. Maybe she should rest a bit to clear her head and think on what she’d do. La Muerte fluffed her pillows and allowed herself to fall unto her mattress, letting out a sigh as her eyelids closed, it wasn’t long before she fell asleep.

…

She was awakened by a sound in her window. Reluctantly, La Muerte woke up, shifting to sit up in bed and glance at her window; she saw a crow pecking at her window, cawing to call her attention. Curious, she opens the window telepathically with a small wave of her hand to allow the black bird in, and not a second after the crow entered the room it burst into green fire to change into a crocodilian god she knew too well.

“Z-Zipacna?” La Muerte stood up this time, warily approaching him.

“La Muerte, are you alright?” Zipacna was not was awkward, and he approached his sister-in-law to place his hands on her shoulders. “What happened? I heard what... occurred between you and my brother.”

Her stomach sunk. “Don’t talk about him in front of me!” she tried to free herself from his grip, but it was unusually tight.

“Answer the question. Is it true? Did you leave him?”

La Muerte’s eyes were swelling up with tears. Her struggle ceased, and she found herself embracing him, sobbing. Zipacna was taken aback for a while; he was used to feminine company, but he was not used to comforting women. What was he supposed to say? Or do? He had the feeling she just needed an ear to hear her out, so for the moment he just returned the embrace, pulling her closer and wrapping his wings around her. “Shh. There, there, it’s okay, cariño.”

“It’s true, but…” La Muerte was sobbing uncontrollably. “Not for the reason everyone thinks…”

“What do you mean?” Zipacna raised his ears, and pulled away from the hug, bringing the goddess over to bed so she could sit down.

“I… He…” she struggled to finish the sentence. “He deceived me… He m-made me think he l-loved me, but… it was a lie… Fue una maldita mentira… He only wanted my m-maidenhood…”

Zipacna couldn’t believe what he was hearing. He could not believe what he was hearing; really he could not, that was not like Xibalba. He knew his brother well enough to say he was not the type to toy with women. Sure, he has had many lovers in the past, but he always respected them. There was something off… “Hey, La Muerte, don’t take it badly, I don’t mean to take sides, but… Maybe you misunderstood what he did?”

La Muerte turned to him, and he could see the fire in her eyes. “What?”

“Well, I… Look, I know my brother. You might not believe me right now, but he is not the type to treat women like trash-“

The goddess stood up from bed, glaring daggers into him. “Then you didn’t know him as you thought.”

“I’m serious! La Muerte, he is not evil, he is just insecure! He probably thought that you’d be better off without him.” Zipacna was starting to tremble. “I mean, It’s the first time he has loved someone-“

“He never loved me, don’t you get it?! He only used me!”

“La Muerte, I only-!”

“Did he send you?”

“Wha-?!” Now it was Zipacna who grew angry, standing up and nearly towering over her. “In case you forgot he has not spoken to me for who-knows how long!”

“How can I be certain that is not another lie?!”

“Now listen here, missy! Do I look like a liar to you?! You can judge Xibalba if you want, but you don’t know anything about me; you don’t have the right to judge me! I’m sorry if you got hurt, but it doesn’t mean you have to take it all out on me just because I’m related to the one who did it!”

He regretted his harsh words when La Muerte started to sob again. Heck, why did he have to mess everything up?! But there was something off, she was being too exaggerated… not in that way. He hadn’t seen her change from sad to angry and then back to sadness that quick, unless… He realized what was going on.

“You’re pregnant, aren’t you?”

La Muerte froze. “W-What?” She quickly tried to regain her composure to no avail. “I d-don’t know what you’re talking about! I’m perfectly fine!”

She was a terrible liar, Zipacna could see it in her eyes and her face. She was expecting a child, his brother’s child, but maybe it would be best not to upset her any further; he had heard the first trimester was very sensitive, there was a greater risk of a miscarriage should the mother get under too much stress or emotional distress. He chose to follow her game. “Sorry, just an assumption. I guess I should think thrice before I speak.”

La Muerte sighed in relief. He had not caught on. “Don’t worry, it’s just…” a few tears were rolling down her cheeks, even though she vowed she’d never shed any more tears for him. “I still can’t believe I was foolish enough to have fallen into his deceit…”

Zipacna remained silent. He listened to her words intently. He knew what he’d have to do.

Asclepius had told him to stay in bed until further notice, but Xibalba simply could not stand to be unmoving for long, it irritated him, made him feel useless, especially now that La Muerte was gone and he had no one to keep him company. Sure, he had his servants, but it was her company he wanted, he wanted that infuriating, stubborn annoying woman to come and chastise him for something he did, or disagree with his beliefs and actions, but she had left. He was so lonely…

No more than once had the need of feminine company (other than Regina’s) crossed his mind, but he always scrapped the ideas. He didn’t want another woman, he wanted his woman. He could never think of touching another. He had tried, but he could not. He was not proud to say this, but a few days after driving his wife away he grew desperate with loneliness, and went to find someone to ‘comfort him’. But he could not even touch her, everytime he tried memories of La Muerte’s kisses, caresses, tender skin and silky hair would come back to haunt him. In the end he gave up. It was official, he would never touch another woman again in his life.

Finally he couldn’t bear it any longer. With some difficulty, while being careful not to move too quick or forcibly, Xiballba made his way out of bed, and grabbed unto his staff to support himself as he walked out of his room. Maybe it wouldn’t hurt to go and take a walk around his castle, he didn’t really feel like going to the garden, as incredible as it sounded. He just wanted to get away from everything. Soon he was passing through the west hall, and in front of the dreaded door with the claw marks. Xibalba just stood there in front of the door for a while, he had not been here for a long while (except when he had found La Muerte here), and wondered if the dark aura inside had grown fainter.

A shiver ran down Xibalba’s spine as he pushed the doors open and walked inside, finding it as abandoned and neglected as before. The sound of his staff and his footsteps echoed in the dark room, reminding him how silent it was in here. As soon as he was inside, he lifted his gaze to the portrait hanging from the wall. His heart started to hurt and ache again, but this time it was not because of La Muerte. This time it was because of his mother, watching that portrait of her holding him a an infant, it had been centuries ever since that picture had been taken, but he still remembered her. Her smell of flowers, her angelical voice singing and the warmth of her embrace.

He glanced at the music box just at the feet of the portrait. It had been so long ever since he heard the melody in that trinket, out of sudden a feeling of nostalgia overwhelmed him; his curiosity betrayed him, and he walked closer to the music box, running a finger on the lid, then lifting it slowly. When the little tune started to play, he felt the nostalgia return tenfold, and his eyes swelled up with tears. Suddenly, he saw a small white light coming from within the music box, and before he knew it, the flash that came afterwards made him lose consciousness.

When he woke up, he realized he was still in the room; with his head still spinning from the flash, his vision took a while in adjusting to the new-found illumination, but he caught movement in the corner of his eye. When he turned around, Xibalba’s eyes went wide and his heart nearly stopped, not believing what he was seeing. Selena, the goddess of the Moon, his mother, was right there, in this very room, just in front of him. He was so stunned he did not notice the state of the room.

“M-Mamá…?” this couldn’t be. As Xibalba went back to his feet, he approached his mother warily, though he was happy to see her. Soon, however, he noticed she had not turned to see him, and was hurriedly packing up. “Mother… Can you hear me?” As he reached out to touch Selena’s shoulder, he quickly withdrew his hands when his fingertips went right through her. That was when he realized this was a memory, and he was nothing but an unseen ghost travelling through the sands of time.

“Selena!”

Xibalba froze for a second time, this time because of the roaring voice coming from the hall, and the skeletal dragon he had to call Father entering the room with a menacing expression.

“Mujer, would you care to explain why you let my son leave with that-!” Akrinok noticed the clothing on the bed, and the half-finished baggage at the side. “What are you doing?” he hissed.

Much to Xibalba’s surprise and shock, this time Selena did not flinch nor show any fear. For the first time ever, she was glaring at him with all the hatred she could muster. He never thought he’d see her like that. “I’m leaving.”

Both Akrinok and Xibalba couldn’t believe what they had just heard.

“What are you saying?” Akrinok’s blood started to boil as he returned the glare tenfold, his pupils turning to slits and his eyes starting to glow red.

“I’m taking my children away from you!” Selena retorted, stepping away from the dragon. “I’m not going to stand by as you keep torturing them any longer!”

Akrinok chuckled humorlessly. “You think you can just leave me just like that?” He grabbed her chin and forced her to look into his eyes. “You belong to me.”

“I belong to no one!” the goddess stood back, her hands clenching into fists. “I’m not letting you turn Xibalba into a beast like you! As soon as I get him away from you I’ll undo all the damage you’ve done to him!”

Xibalba was moved by his mother’s words.

“Damage?” Akrinok growled. “I’ve been toughening him up. If he is to be my successor, he must have an iron fist!”

“Iron fist?! You are cruel! You take advantage of helpless people, you destroy families and lives out of sheer pleasure, you kill women and children! I’m not letting you rub off your cruelty into my son!”

“You seem to forget something, my dear.” Akrinok was slowly starting to lose control. His red eyes were glowing menacingly now, and he was baring his teeth at her. “You are powerless. Your power was stripped from you the moment you became my wife. You have no chance against me, even if you managed to get out of this castle, the Forgotten Beasts would tear you as well as the boys apart.”

Selena started to back down.

“Mamá, don’t listen to him!” Xibalba cried out, forgetting for a moment they could not see nor hear him.

“And you’re not the one who’s had enough. You’ve been softening my heir into a mama’s boy for too long, Selena.”

“Stay away!” Selena was stepping back, but she was cornered.

“Get away from her!” Xibalba tried in van to intervene. He only watched helpless as Akrinok violently smacked Selena in the waist with his talon with such strength that he sent her against the wall. But as Akrinok was approaching to finish her off, he stopped in his tracks when Selena cried out in pain, clutching her stomach; both Xibalba and Akrinok were confused as to what was going on, until they saw blood tainting the skirt of her dress between her legs.

Realization hit them both.

“Mamá!” Xibalba ran to her side, but he could not touch her. He could only watch helplessly as she continued to bleed, screaming.

Akrinok was frozen. She was… S-She… Xibalba turned around to look at his father with hatred, but what he found in the dragon’s expression was even more shocking than what he had just discovered; he saw horror, shock and… was that… guilt? N-No, he must be imagining things…! Akrinok could not bear the sight anymore, but not out of disgust, and turned into a shadow to flee the room. Selena’s screams soon called the attention of the servants, and five seconds didn’t pass before Regina crossed the doors, gasping in horror at the scene. Despite the agony and the tearing cramps that tore her from the inside, Selena managed to glance at Regina with grit teeth, tears streaming down her cheeks. “Regina… ayúdame…”

“Mother!” Xibalba tried and failed to touch his mother, again only watching as Regina ran to her mistress’s side, screaming at Emilio and the others to come and help. Suddenly, all his surroundings started to disappear when the other lizards ran inside the room and headed towards Selena. Xibalba felt like something was dragging him out. “No, let go of me!” he screamed at practically no one, but he did not care. Black tendrils of energy were pulling him away from Selena, until he could only hear her screams of agony. Finally, the tears ran down his cheeks as he only managed to release an arm and reach out for Selena in despair. “MOTHER!”

Xibalba woke up with a start. He was drenched in cold sweat, and his heart was drumming, nearly bursting out of his chest. It took him a few minutes to calm down, until he realized he was no longer in the forbidden room, he was back in his own chambers. But how did he get here…? Had Regina and the lizards found him unconscious and brought him back?

The image of his mother on the floor, bleeding, screaming and dying returned to him. He was at first confused, not understanding what had happened to her. She just started to bleed like that, from between her legs. Something told him she had not been sick, however, a part of him feared the words. He knew what had happened, but he did not want to even think about it. But then his thoughts turned to her words.

She was going to take them away.

Xibalba’s eyes swelled up with tears. Selena was going to leave his father, she was going to take them away from his cruelty, from his shadow, she had finally gathered the courage to stand up to him, and it had been for him. She was willing to give everything up just to save him from Akrinok. And it had cost her life… and that of his unborn sibling.

His blood started to boil when he thought about his father.

Finally he knew what had happened.

He finally knew how his mother died.

“You killed her…” the dark god spoke through grit teeth, clutching his sheets in anger.

Akrinok’s shadow had been watching his son during his trance, and realized it was futile to keep hiding it. His shadow materialized next to his son’s bed, for once his red eyes were not glowing with hate. Once Xibalba had the object of his fury and hatred in front of him, he instantly teleported in front of him, spreading out his wings menacingly and sending his father against the wall with a single punch, his teeth turned into fangs.

“ASESINASTE A MI MADRE!!” Xibalba roared, hot tears of anger now streaming down his cheeks.

Oddly, Akrinok did not snicker nor make a mocking comment. As he recovered from the atttack, he glanced at his son, but he had no hatred or fury in his eyes. “…I did not want to kill her…”

“SAVE YOUR DAMN LIES FOR SOMEONE WHO ACTUALLY BELIEVES THEM!” Xibalba screamed at him. “She was pregnant and you didn’t care! Not only did you murder mamá, you also murdered my unborn sibling!”

“I did not know…” Akrinok simply said, his voice full of regret. “She never told me she was carrying another child… I would have never touched her had I known…”

“I don’t believe you…!” Xibalba stepped back, bringing his hands to his head, gritting his teeth. “You never loved her, she was nothing but a trophy to you…! Have you forgotten all the times you mistreated her in front of me?! How much I suffered seeing her being a victim to your cruelty!”

“You don’t know anything, boy!” Akrinok was losing his cool, and started to growl. “She was going to abandon me! I did not want her to leave me! Even if you don’t want to believe anything of what I said, I loved her!”

“Please! You didn’t love your own children, why should I believe you loved mother?!”

“I tried everything but she never reciprocated me! Did she never tell you?!” There was genuine hurt and despair in Akrinok’s voice. Xibalba never thought he’d hear those emotions in his father. “I gave her gifts, compliments, everything but that was not enough for her! No matter what I did Selena never loved me back!”

“And you think that you’d earn anything from her by treating her like garbage?! A woman is not an object to discard once you’re done with it!”

Akrinok chuckled humorlessly, bitterness in his voice as he narrowed his eyes, floating closer to his son and fidgeting with the ring hanging on his neck. “You should talk, boy. Isn’t that exactly what you did with your wife?”

Xibalba narrowed his eyes as well, clenching his hands into fists. “I let her go. It’s a very different thing.”

“Please!” Akrinok snapped, floating backwards, gnashing his teeth. “As soon as you got what you wanted from her you got rid of her! Isn’t that what you wanted from the beginning?”

“Maybe I did. But unlike you, I never lay a finger on her. I always respected her, I gave La Muerte her place. Then I got to know her better, and saw her as a friend. That wonderful woman was the first one who stole my heart, and I’ll never regret falling in love with her. That’s why I made her leave, because she deserved better than me.”

“For once, I agree with you boy.” The spectral dragon floated closer to see his son in the eyes. “She did deserve better than you. Look at you, you are nothing but a pathetic excuse for a ruler. You are nothing worth loving, you’re not handsome nor rich, you have nothing to offer to that woman, do you?”

For a moment, Xibalba’s fire seemed to extinguish momentarily, until he spoke again. “You know, perhaps if you had told me this before, I would have believed you. I used to be afraid of you ever since I was child, so much I never contradicted your words in fear you’d torture me further, and eventually I came to believe what you said was true.” La Muerte’s reassuring words returned to him, and he found himself with a new feeling of confidence as he looked up at his father defiant. “But not anymore.”

Akrinok was stunned for a few seconds, before he uttered one single word. “What?”

“I’m not like you, Father. You may think I’m no one, but you are wrong. I’m much more than a pawn in your stupid game of conquest, I’m not six years old anymore. I am a much better King than you ever were, I was a much better husband than you ever were.” As his confidence continued to strengthen, Akrinok started to feel weak. “You were so afraid of me getting out of your shadow to create my own that you tried to break me.” Xibalba chuckled humorlessly. “I must admit, though, you did a good job the first years you came to haunt me. You preyed on my loneliness and insecurity to manipulate me like a puppet, made me drive everyone away to make sure I would not have any sort of comfort. But you know what, Akrinok?”

Akrinok’s shadow was starting to disappear, but he did not say anything. He tried to speak, but something kept his throat dry and his jaws clamped, and he was soon cornered against the wall. Xibalba was smiling in satisfaction at seeing his father backing off for the first time. “You failed. You may have killed mother, but her spirit lived on. Her love kept me going through all these years, and it was reborn on a new type of love I never thought I’d feel. La Muerte’s love changed me, she brought me out of the darkness and despair you cast upon me. I don’t fear you anymore. Go back to Hell, orwhenever you returned from.” When Akrinok’s head was the only thing left of his spirit, Xibalba’s smirk grew wider with glee. “Farewell.”

As if on cue, Akrinok vanished into thin air.

When he was alone, Xibalba let out a deep sigh, and had to support himself against the wall; for the first time in his life he felt… he didn’t know how to describe it… Free. At peace. He felt a great weight had been lifted off his chest, giving him freedom to finally be himself. He was happy.

There was a knock on the door, and Emilio peeked his head in. “M-My Lord, you have a v-visitor who wishes to speak to you…” he sounded nervous when he said the word visitor, why would it be…?

Unless…

His heart skipped a beat. Had La Muerte returned? A great part of him wished she had, he was desperate to see her and touch her, he wanted to tell her he loved her and make up for the horrible things he said. Emilio still looked reluctant, but he nevertheless stepped aside to allow this visitor to come in.

Xibalba’s hopes to see his wife turned into bitterness, anger and indignation when he saw this mysterious visit was not La Muerte. He narrowed his eyes,, clenching his fists and gritting his teeth.

“You.”

Chapter Text

Zipacna knew from the beginning he was jumping form the frying pan into the fire when he stepped into his brother’s castle that night, and he still wasn’t certain if what he was doing was prudent, considering that the last time he and Xibalba saw each other it was not on the best of circumstances. He had not unleashed his hounds on him, thankfully, but knowing him he was certain Xibalba would not be so tolerant this time. But he had to do this, he had hidden for too long, it was time he faced the consequences of his actions for once in his life. Emilio was reluctant to let him in, but technically the caiman-headed god had just walked in without even asking if he could, which would further anger Xibalba.

As soon as he stepped into his brother’s bedchambers and the younger deity glared at him with disbelief and all the hate he could muster, Zipacna knew this was not such a good idea. But he would not run away this time. He was startled at the aspect his brother had; his moustache and beard, so carefully trimmed and combed, were a mess of tangles, his eyes were bloodshot from so much crying, and his bathrobe concealed his torso and chest, but he could catch a glimpse of a discarded wedding ring hanging on a small chain around Xibalba’s neck. He contained the urge to make a comment about how terrible he looked, now was not the time for jokes.

“Hermanito, I need to talk to you.”

Xibalba could not believe Zipacna had the nerve to come into his castle just like that, without even asking if he could come in. “Wow… at least you decided something. What makes you think I am willing to hear your serenades?” he spat the words with cruel sarcasm.

Zipacna didn’t back off this time, however. “There’s something you need to know.”

“What? That you are sorry or…? Oh, wait, I guess we already had this discussion.”

“It’s not about that this time, it’s-“

“About?!” he recalled something. “And who gave you permission to come in in the first place?!”

“Emilio did.”

Emilio gulped. He knew this topic was very touchy for his master, and he would not be happy to learn he had let Zipacna in after being ordered strictly not to. His fears became reality when Xibalba shot him an accusing glare, and motioned him with his head to leave the room, which he did in a hurry.

“Besides, you seem to forget who always won in hide-and-seek.”

“I’ll have to remind him the rules, I guess…” Xibalba muttered under his breath, before turning his attention back to his brother. “And for your information, I remember perfectly that you always won because you cheated!”

Zipacna realized they were deviating from the topic. “Forget about it! I need you to listen!”

“Why should I?” Xibalba crossed his arms matter-of-factly. “Give me a reason of why I should listen to you.”

Zipacna narrowed his eyes. “Because I’m your older brother, in case you forgot! You’re supposed to listen to what I say!”

The younger god chuckled darkly. “I guess you forgot in whose realm you are and to who you are talking to. And if you are my older brother then why didn’t you act like one when I needed it?” he smirked in satisfaction when Zipacna’s features showed guilt and hesitance, but then he frowned again and clenched his fists. “Older brothers should protect their younger siblings! Not just run away! I would have protected and cared for my sibling if I had the chance to become an older brother myself!” Xibalba’s expression turned both sour and regretful. “You had the chance… I didn’t….”

“What the hell are you talking about?!”

“What I’m talking about?! WHAT I’M TALKING ABOUT?!”

By then, Xibalba was yelling and cornering his older brother against the wall. Zipacna tried not to back off, but Xibalba’s tone was sending shivers down his spine; he even saw the tears gathering in his eyes.

“THE FACT THAT IF MAMÁ HADN’T DIED WE WOULD HAVE HAD ANOTHER BROTHER OR SISTER!” Xibalba took a few shaky breaths to calm himself down. “So that you know…”

Zipacna stared at him in utter shock and disbelief. What was he talking about?! Did it mean…? Their mother had been enceinte when she died?! Did that have something to do with her death? This new piece of information not only reopened an old wound he had so desperately attempted to keep closed, but also created a new one; knowing there would have been three of them… He had the feeling Akrinok was behind it all. “Wha…” his eyes were swelling up with tears as well. “How did you…?”

Xibalba turned away. “I’ve been there…” this time he spoke with regret, but it sounded like he didn’t want to say it at all. “I saw… It was horrible.”

“But how…?”

“The room, Zipacna. Mother’s room… Remember the music box?” Zipacna nodded slowly. “When the song plays, somehow it projects memories into the listener…” he stiffened. “Memories of him…”

“Look, I know I haven’t a good brother, but-“

The dark god flared out his wings impatiently, snapping. “But what?!”

“You don’t know how it’s like to live in exile!”

“If I can remember well, you were the one who ran away. And exile from who?”

Zipacna could not take it anymore. He roared at the top of his lungs, the tears rolling down his cheeks. “FROM AKRINOK!”

Xibalba responded with a yell of his own. “WHAT DO YOU THINK IT’S WORSE?! LIVING IN EXILE OR SUFFERING TORTURES AND ABUSES EVERY SINGLE DAY?! YOU WERE TOO AFRAID TO FACE HIM AND YOU DID THIS WITH YOUR OWN HAND, WHILE YOU DIDN’T EVEN CARE ABOUT ME!!”

“YOU THINK I WAS HAPPY TO LEAVE YOU BEHIND?! YOU THINK I LEFT YOU OUT OF SHEER PLEASURE?! I SPENT CENTURIES DROWNING IN MY OWN GUILT FOR NOT BEING ABLE TO HELP YOU!”

“AND YOU THINK THIS IS GOING TO SOLVE ANYTHING?!”

Finally, both Xibalba and Zipacna had to recover their breaths, but the two of them were weeping, one of anger and the other of regret. As soon as he could talk again, Xibalba turned his back on his older brother, rubbing his forearms. “If this is why you came… If you just came to reopen old wounds then leave.” He talked as if this was the end of the conversation.

It was not.

“No, Xibalba.” Zipacna growled, standing his ground. “I’m not walking away from you this time.”

“What makes you think I need your help now? I learned to go on without you a long time ago.”

“I’m not letting you ruin your life because of your damn insecurity! You know why?! Because despite everything I still love you!”

Xibalba refused to look at him, becoming defensive almost instantly. “What insecurity?! And please spare me from all that drama, I’m simply not in the mood!”

“What about La Muerte?! She told me what you did to her! That woman is suffering very much without you!”

At the mention of his wife Xibalba instantly turned around with a shocked expression, but Zipacna could also caught unto some hope in his gaze.

“You… You know about La Muerte?” She was suffering without him? She actually missed him? He couldn’t believe it, and yet he was happy that she did, it meant she still loved him. “She told you…?”

“I went to see her. Did you know Sol is planning on finding her a new husband?”

Xibalba scoffed. “Tell me something new. Good luck with that.”

“Don’t act like you don’t care, because I know you better than you yourself.”

“I doubt it. And if Sol wants to find her a new husband, he will have to make me divorce first.”

“What makes you think he won’t?” Zipacna inquired with crossed arms and a scolding look. “After your little act even the kings are on his side now.”

“Wonder why… Sol won’t make me divorce… He can offer me anything in the world…” Xibalba dug his claws into the sleeves of his bathrobe. “I will never sign those papers. And I guess La Muerte is so ashamed of having given herself over to me that she did not inform her daddy about out little ‘wedding night’, otherwise Sol would know that a divorce is impossible now.”

“Stop condemning La Muerte, would you?! Would you leave her and your child helpless?!”

Xibalba abruptly turned his head to look at his brother, his eyes wide in shock and his pupils shrunk. Had he heard right? Child? What did he…? Fear and mortification started to bubble up in his chest, no matter how much he tried to deny it. It couldn’t be…!

No…

Nononono! He couldn’t have…!

“What?” Was all he left his mouth.

“La Muerte is carrying your child.”

Almost instantly, Xibalba entered the denial stage. “What are you talking about?! Do you hear yourself?! If you have come here to mock me-!”

That was the last straw.

Zipacna could not bear it anymore.

Xibalba didn’t have time to react as suddenly his brother pushed him against the wall and grabbed him by the shoulders, glaring at him with a great fury but overall frustration. Xibalba was frozen. He didn’t know how to react, Zipacna had never acted like this; his eyes, usually a warm playful green, had turned an icy cold blue, and there was some kind of mist emanating from them. He had seen this look before. Zipacna had developed it when he had tried to defend him from Akrinok numerous times. Zipacna glared at his brother, tears streaming down his cheeks once more. “ARE YOU LISTENING TO YOURSELF?! LA MUERTE IS PREGNANT! SHE IS FIVE WEEKS PREGNANT! AND INSTEAD OF TRYING TO FIX THINGS UP YOU KEEP WALLOWING IN YOUR DAMN PRIDE! DO YOU WANT THAT CHILD TO GROW WITHOUT HIS FATHER?! DO YOU WANT LA MUERTE TO BE CAST OUT FOR OF HAVING A CHILD ON HER OWN?! IS THAT HOW MUCH YOU LOVE HER?!”

Xibalba wanted to retort, how dare he question his love for La Muerte?! He wouldn’t tolerate anyone daring to say that he didn’t care for her. But his throat was dry from all the yelling, and he didn’t know what to say anyway. For a few moments there was an awkward silence between the two gods, until Zipacna released his shoulders and stepped back, wiping the tears from his cheeks, but his gaze remaining hard. After a while, Xibalba finally whispered.

“A child…” the night he had spent with La Muerte had bore fruit. He had planted his seed on her, it could only mean one thing, but he was afraid to even think of it. “Z-Zipacna… if what you say is true…”

Zipacna nodded. “You are going to be a father.”

A father… He was going to be a father. He was going to have a baby, they were going to have a baby… A little one, their little one, to make everything better. The idea of fatherhood no longer seemed so unappealing to him, his heart soared in joy when he thought of a little one growing inside the womb of the woman he loved…

The woman he had…

Xibalba gasped in realization.

Gods. What had he done?!

“What should I do…?” he whispered, before turning to his brother in regret. “Z-Zipacna, I can’t leave her alone! I must do something! I have to tell her that I’m sorry!”

“Go talk to her, then.”

“I…” Xibalba looked down, regret washing over his features as he recalled the horrible parting words he told her. She didn’t want anything to do with him anymore. “I can’t, she won’t listen to me…”

“Since when has that stopped you? There are lots of goddesses who never wanted to listen to you, and you never gave up.” Zipacna said, calmly this time. “And for goodness sake be sincere this time!”

If only it were so easy. “She is not just a simple goddess, Zipacna…” she was a wonderful, amazing woman who gave herself her place and did not forgive this kind of humiliations this easily. “Talking to her might be the best solution, but…” he sighed. “Only in the best of circumstances. How could I talk to her, and when?”

For the first time in the while conversation, Zipacna grinned as he searched in his cloak and took out a red envelope adorned with golden trimmings. “Her birthday. Sol is organizing a masquerade to celebrate, he has invited many potential suitors for her.”

Xibalba stared at the envelope, probably an invitation. “As if, in case you forgot if I show my face around there he will put all his guards on me.”

Zipacna rolled his eyes. “It’s a ‘masquerade, remember? You are supposed to wear a disguise.”

“Right, that way she won’t recognize me, but even if I manage to see her how will I talk to her?”

“You’re a ladies man. You will figure it out.” He smirked. “Weren’t you always boasting that no woman could resist your charms?”

“Shut up.” Xibalba looked away with a frown. But he couldn’t help but let out a chuckle; he hadn’t wanted to admit it, but he had missed his brother’s sense of humor.

“So you still have some sense of humor in you…”

“Yeah… I guess…”

Xibalba looked down at the wedding band in his finger sadly. He wouldn’t deny it, he was afraid to face his beloved La Muerte after what happened, after what he said to her, those horrible words he regretted ever speaking. She did not deserve such cruelty, he feared of her rejection and her hurting words like knives that would surely leave her mouth; but for her, and his child, he was willing to do anything. Speaking of which…

He glanced at Zipacna. It had been so long ever since they spoke, ever since they were in the same room. He couldn’t help it, he couldn’t deny it any longer. Maybe La Muerte had been right all this time, maybe it was time that he let go of his resentment. And what a better way to do so? Picking up his staff from where he last left it, he started to head towards the door. “Zipacna, follow me.”

He felt a shiver down his spine. “To where?”

“The garden. You must have missed that place. You can catch a fly in your mouth open like that.”

The caiman headed god chuckled sadly. “I didn’t mean to that time…”

Zipacna didn’t need a second thought on that, he instantly followed after his younger sibling. He did miss that place, he had not seen it in millennia. There was an awkward silence as they made their way down the dark hallways, they didn’t know what to say after so much time. It was like they forgot how to be brothers. When they passed by the west hall, Xibalba decided to break the silence. “So, Zipacna… what were you doing? You know… all this time…”

“Wandering around… There’s not much to do down there, you know…”

“Still ain’t got that girl to stop you from being so childish and goofy?”

“Nah. My nature is freedom, I doubt I’ll ever settle down.

Xibalba chuckled. “Aww, how sentimental, but you do have your crush. Admit it.” He had heard from the mouths of other gods from the pantheon that his brother had been head over heels with Xochiquétzal for a long time.

“Well, I admit, I do have a bit of interest in Xochiquétzal…”

“Oh yeah… Definitely just a bit.” Xibalba grinned lightly. “Come on, hermano, say it.”

Zipacna groaned. “Fine, I like Xochiquétzal. Too bad she doesn’t think the same.”

“Do something about it! You think La Muerte liked me at first?” Xibalba’s smile faltered a bit. “Well, now she hates me, but anyway… You know what I mean.”

“At least you now have something that will bond you forever…”

“Not in the way I wanted…” They came upon the door leading to the garden, and he opened it with the usual chanting. “Well, here we are.” As they walked up the staircase, Zipacna spoke again.

“She will forgive you… Eventually.”

“I hope so.”

When they walked into the garden, Zipacna couldn’t help but gasp in reminiscence and nostalgia. It was just like he remembered, the blooming flowers, the jacaranda tree whose petals floated down to the ground, the sunlight, everything. He saw the bench where he and Xibalba used to sit with their mother, and she hummed a lullaby for them. His eyes were swelling up with tears. “It’s as beautiful as the last time…”

Xibalba sighed, nodding. “This place… brings memories…” he thought for a moment. His brother had the right to know. “Zipacna, now it’s my turn to tell you something.”

“What is it?”

Xibalba led him to the bench and sat down, his wings shifting and his feathers bristling in discomfort. “You know I said that I’ve been in mamá’s room and a memory not my own came back to me.”

Zipacna sat down next to him. “You did.”

“I saw something. Something that involves us both… and mother.”

“What do you mean?”

“I…” Xibalba closed his eyes, frowning. “I saw the way mamá died…”

Zipacna’s eyelids opened wide, and his pupils shrunk. “What…?”

“Akrinok killed her because she tried to protect us. She wanted to leave but father hit her.”

“Leave?”

“With us… Run from Akrinok, he did not only kill mamá…” Xibalba dug his claws into the wood of the bench, his eyes moistening. “He also killed our sibling.”

“She was…?” he already knew the answer, but he was afraid to hear it or even say it.

“Yes. That’s why I…” Xibalba finally allowed the tears to roll down his cheeks, recalling La Muerte’s words about bottling things up. “I never had the chance to be an older brother…”

Zipacna stared at his brother with a sympathetic expression. “I’m so sorry, hermanito…” He wasn’t certain if it was the right thing to do right now, but he placed a hand on Xibalba’s shoulder, offering him a comforting smile. “I bet you would have been a wonderful brother…”

Xibalba returned the gesture. “Yeah… I had someone to show me what it means to be that…” he looked away. “Although sometimes that someone messes things up.”

“You don’t have to rub it in my face, you know… I know I messed up pretty bad…”

“Hmm… Yeah, you did.” The dark god sighed. “But… thank you for coming now, and for telling me those things.”

“I just couldn’t let you ruin your happiness like that…”

“You know… You can come from time to time if you want, I don’t mind…”

Zipacna’s expression brightened. “Does that mean you forgive me?”

Xibalba remained silent for a few minutes, rubbing his forearms and shifting in his seat. He didn’t want to lie to him. “No.” he felt terrible when he saw Zipacna’s expression grow hurt. “I cannot… not just yet. I need time… But…” he glanced at him with a small smile. “That doesn’t mean I’m not taking it into consideration.”

Besides, he needed help with his disguise.

Four days after her last talk with Zipacna passed.

The anticipated day arrived. La Muerte’s birthday was here, and the masquerade in honor of such event was tonight. All the Remembered did their very best that day, they wanted to give their beloved Princess the best birthday, they worked hard to make everything perfect and to Sol’s verbatim. The ballroom’s marble floor was thoroughly polished so that one could see his reflection perfectly, the tables were laid and the best utensils and silverware accommodated meticulously. The cooks were busy all day, preparing all main courses of food, the large cake was being decorated in La Muerte’s favorite colors, and a great red carpet was spread out at the main hall for the upcoming guests. Only for that night, the castle would be closed for the citizens, since all who would come were gods and deities, and Sol wanted to avoid his subjects the displeasure of dealing with the haughtiest ones regarding humans.

The guests started arriving at 6 P.M. Most of them arrived in golden, silver or fine carriages pulled by majestic steeds of all shapes and colors, all forming a line as the gods and goddesses (mostly former) descended from their vehicles, dressed in their best clothing, and received by some of the servants that would serve tonight. It wasn’t long before the ballroom and the dining hall inside the castle were overwhelmed with deities from far and wide, but all belonging to the Aztec pantheon. Lords Quetzalcóatl and Tezcatlipoca were seated at the honor guest table, were the cumpleañera would sit with her family. But first, she’d receive congratulations and gifts from her guests.

Meanwhile, La Muerte and Aimé were in the former’s bedchambers, Aimé was just finishing the last touches to her sister’s hair, adorned with sparkles and combed in a curlier way than usual. La festejada had to be the most beautiful in that room, though actually there were few who could even hold a candle to her beauty.

“There, all done.” Aimé chirped, and stood up holding her sister’s hands. “Isn’t it exciting? All the women down there are going to be jealous when they see you!”

La Muerte wanted to smile, she really would like to, but she was still thinking about her encounter with Zipacna. Aimé noticed.

“What is it, Muertita? Aren’t you happy?”

“It’s not that, Amy, it’s just…” La Muerte stood up, still holding her sister’s hands, but her gaze was cast downwards.

“You’re still worried about what Zipacna told you?”

“I just… He said Xibalba had a reason to act like he did, but he is his brother, he could be just defending him… But at the same time, something tells me he was being sincere.”

“Maybe he is right…”

La Muerte stared at her reflection in the mirror. Her formal gala dress had been thoroughly worked on by the best seamstresses in the Land of the Remembered, of red and champagne colors, adorned with ribbons, marigolds and tiny sparkling crystals. It was truly a masterpiece, she was so grateful… Thankfully she was still in the early stage of the pregnancy, and her abdomen wouldn’t bulge out for another two months, but she was still worried about the fainting spells, if she fainted in the middle of the party her father would surely have her checked by a doctor, and he’d find out…

“You think Zipacna noticed?” Aimé asked in worry.

“I hope not, he would tell Xibalba, there’s no doubt about it…”

“Well, let’s not think about it any longer.” Aimé smiled at her sister. “Let’s go! It’ll do you good to enjoy yourself a bit.”

La Muerte smiled at her little sister. “I bet it will.”

The two sisters put on their adorned masks before they left the bedchambers, and walked down the hall hand-in-hand. Though La Muerte agreed that she needed to distract herself from her thoughts and memories of Xibalba, she didn’t agree with this way of doing it. She did not need to be swooned by every single god in the pantheon; all she wanted right now was a friend. Not a poor fool trying to win her heart; besides, she knew most of those ‘suitors’ were only after her wealth and status in the pantheon, and they still thought she was still a virgin. During their visits to Aztlan she had often been told by almost everyone how pretty and beautiful she was. Her mother was, so naturally she would be. But adding her sizeable inheritance and dowery as future Queen to the mix, it made them exaggerate a bit in their attempts. If it wasn’t riches, then her beauty, and if not all that, then her title, that called all of these suitors her father had invited. King Sol had been very picky in which available gods he invited; he picked the ones he thought would provide his daughter with love, comfort and overall a stable relationship in which she could be happy.

But none of them was Xibalba.

La Muerte quickly forced the thought out of her head as they finally neared the doors leading into the throne room, where all the guests were, and the announcement was given so the princesses would make their entrance into the crowded throne room.

Sharing a reassuring look with Aimé, both goddesses lifted up their skirts and gracefully strode through as the doors were pulled back by some attendants.

A roar of clapping thundered through the spacious room where about one hundred guests were scattered, their identities concealed partly by their masks and disguises. La Muerte recognized a few of them even with the masks, but she recognized the Kings, along with Tlaloc, Tohil, Huitzilopochtli, Toci and Itzamna, the most important ones in the pantheon. She also caught a flurry of ribbons and colour that belonged to some of the invited Goddesses, among them Tlaloc’s daughters and other minor or mayor deities. La Muerte immediately put on her smiling mask to hide her uncertainty, amicably waving her hand at Xochiquétzal, and receiving one in return.

King Sol was waiting for both his daughters in front of the thrones, wearing a smile on his lips, he was happy with the stock of men he had been able to find suitable for his daughter. He must have been certain he had found at least one that would be to her liking. But La Muerte still wasn’t sure if she’d even accept their asks for a dance, as long as she was married she wouldn’t accept another. And the marriage had been consummated; there could be no divorce now.

As tradition, La Muerte slowly made her way to her mother’s unoccupied throne, while Aimé went to the other throne located on the other side, decorated with her colors and customized to her liking. King Sol’s throne was in the middle of the two, and it was much more intricate and majestic.

Now the introductions would come. La Muerte actually knew most of these gods, but it was tradition, so she was stuck hearing them being introduced by a servant of the pantheon (a minor deity), then receive the gifts they had brought. All suitors who had come in hopes of earning her favor for a future marriage proposal once she was free of her current spouse lined up dutifully, being introduced one by one by name and title, then pranced out the steps to the thrones and took large gaudy bows to impress her.

The first to pass was Huitzilopochtli from the honor guests, god of war, one of the Lords of the Sky. A noble god who lived for battle, something which La Muerte disliked, she was not one to enjoy violence. La Muerte stood from the throne and walked forward for the introductions. Smiling, the god of war gently took her hand and his lips pressed a small kiss to the back of it.

“I wish you a happy birthday, milady. I hope you will like the gift I have brought for you. My most gentle horse, bred in my very stables, son of my prized stallion. A gift for the most beautiful princess in all the realms.” Huitzilopochtli blustered as a few servants brought a beautiful palomino Andalusian around, pulling it into the room before leading it back into the hall and likely to the stables.

La Muerte didn’t have the heart to tell him she already had a good horse, a white mare bred by Lady Epona, mistress of Horses, she figured it would bruise his pride to be overshadowed not only by a goddess, but by a foreign goddess. Instead, she smiled politely. “Thank you very much, milord. I shall take good care of him.”

The god beamed brightly before descending the stairs, maybe he thought he had a point in his favor. Sol apparently had a similar thought, as he smiled hopefully at his daughter. The next several names were pronounced, and each suitor brought another gift for La Muerte. The most tasteful wines, exotic fresh spices, small or big pets brought from other parts of the world, shawls or dresses made form the best silk and of the brightest colors, and exquisite jewels of all the colors of the world. All eligible bachelors went on like this, minor and mayor deities, gods and spirits; La Muerte curtsied and kept on her kind smile, allowed tem to kiss her hand and received their gifts politely.

But she was not attracted romantically to any of them.

Outside, the servants who received the arriving guests were about to head inside when they heard the sound of hoof steps approaching. They immediately readied themselves to open the door of another carriage, but much to their surprise the new arrival did not come on a carriage like all the others, he rode on a beautiful Friesian, but his identity was concealed both with his mask and the hood of his cloak, he led the with a firm, confident hand, and the animal had a very graceful canter. The mysterious figure clad in black pulled the reins when he was in front of the staircase leading to the doors, and jumped off his steed gracefully.

The servants could not see his features nor his face. The stranger handed them over the invitation, so he must be invited, maybe he had just arrived a bit late due to some unfortunate circumstance, so they granted him entry as one of them led his horse to the stables. The mysterious figure walked up the steps to the castle, his cloak flowing behind him.

Chapter Text

Xibalba examined himself in the mirror, muttering under his breath as he took a look at his reflection, glancing at his costume in embarrassment. It consisted of a black silk suit with matching pants, silver trimmings in the shapes of swirls and leaves, along with a long black cape with intricate patterns and silver swirls. His gloves were replaced with a pair of white gloves, and black boots. “What the hell…?” He had never liked masquerades for this reason. Too much glitz and glamour.

Epona giggled at his expression. “It’s the only thing I could find so fast.”

“Seriously? I’m supposed to wear this?”

“Don’t forget you come from Europe, you have to wear a suitable attire, and you can’t use your usual colors or anyone in there will recognize you, especially La Muerte.”

“I’m scared, Epona…” he sighed, looking towards his window and crossing his arms. “What if she doesn’t want to see me again? What if she doesn’t let me see our child?”

“She is a kind woman, I’m certain she will forgive you eventually.”

“That’s the problem. I don’t know if I will bear her rejection… I love her too much…”

“That’s why you will hold on. If you truly love her, fight for her, earn her affection back little by little even if it seems impossible for the time being.”

Xibalba sighed once more, and started to shape shift, his tar skin turning into flesh with tan complexion, with darker eyelids and hazel eyes. His moustache and beard shrank a bit, and changed into a midnight color, while dark hair grew on his skull, it was partially combed though he had a few loose strands, while his wings retreated into his back, disappearing for the time being. Epona smiled.

“You look handsome.”

“Thanks. I hope La Muerte will think the same.” Xibalba grabbed the raven-themed mask and put it on. It would be enough to diminish the chances of being recognized, not to mention it matched with his attire.

“By the way, have you thought of what you will be giving her as a present?”

Xibalba remained silent, thinking. He had an idea of what he was going to give to her as a birthday present. It meant very much to him, and it was not very extravagant. He knew she didn’t like those things.

“I have something in mind.”

La Muerte sighed as the latest attempt to win her favor retreated back to the crowd after presenting with a large carriage filled with flowers brought from all over the region, adorned with sparkles and jewels. Sol glanced at one of the servants and gave him a nod; the servant cleared his throat.

“And at last, Lord Itzlacol, God of Fire, one of the most recent Gods of War!”

La Muerte, and the rest of the guests glanced at the regal figure approaching. Unlike with most guests, suddenly this one’s servants immediately rushed forward and unrolled a red velvet carpet for the god to walk on as trumpeters blew into their instruments, signaling the arrival of the entity. La Muerte rolled her eyes internally; with one look she could tell he was very superficial.

The god in question had every reason to be so vain, though. He was very handsome, and many of the single goddesses in the pantheon sighed dreamily whenever they saw him. His facial features were perfectly drawn, and his amber eyes showed a great confidence and pride of himself, something which La Muerte disliked. His long red hair was curly and perfectly combed, as well as tied into a ponytail, with a short matching beard growing on his chin. He wore a beautiful, and almost glowing lion-themed robe made of the best silk in the region, colored red and gold with a little white. His body frame was muscular and strong, and he strode down the red carpet with a great elegance, La Muerte wondered if he had rehearsed it. As the god named Itzlacol was finally before the thrones, he gave King Sol a deep bow. “It is the greatest honor to have been invited to your daughter’s birthday, Your Highness.”

Sol smiled and nodded. “How could I have not invited the most good-looking and wealthiest god in our region.” He was exxagerating, he knew the Kings were far more powerful and rich than he was, but they did not mind this time.

Itzlacol’s attention turned to La Muerte as she stood up from her throne and walked forward, allowing him to take her hand and plant his lips on the back of it. He gave her a warm smile, but yet she couldn’t help but feel a shiver of displeasure run down her spine. She had never liked Itzlacol, even though he had already tried to court her endless times.

“Feliz cumpleaños, princesa La Muerte.” Itzlacol spoke with an almost seductive tone. “I’ve taken the bother of bringing you not one, but various presents as a token of my appreciation.” He stood aside, and a few of his servants came forward with a beautiful dress of the color of the sun with sparkles of golden and red. “A dress designed in France, Italy and New York, sewn by the Himalayan Tribes and fire-resistant.” Another came forward with a beautiful diamond necklace on a case. “A necklace with diamonds obtained from the best mines in the world.” A last one brought forward a beautiful cream-colored horse, the most beautiful the guests had ever seen. “And my best horse, an Arabian thoroughbred mare which I believe would be suitable for such a lady as yourself.”

Another horse. Great, we’ll need bigger stables. That’s what she wanted to say.

“Thanks, My Lord, I appreciate your gifts.” She said instead, curtsying politely.

Itzlacol smiled in return, and with a wave of his hand sent his servants to leave the presents on the correspondent table. But as King Sol was about to announce the part was going to begin, suddenly a maid rushed forward towards his throne, panting. “Your highness, sorry to interrupt you, but we have one more guest.”

“One? I thought all had arrived.” Sol replied gently.

“He says he had a problem with his carriage, and had to come on horseback.”

“I see… Very well, let him in.”

Nodding, the maid rushed to towards the doors, crossing them momentarily. La Muerte stared at the scene curiously, wondering what was going on. Another guest running late? That was strange… A few seconds later, a Remembered came through the door, and coughed to call all present people’s attention. “May I have your attention, please? I have the pleasure to present His Illustrious Count Osvaldo of Aragón.”

La Muerte watched as the doors opened and a figure strode in elegantly, with a posture she recognized form European pantheons; was this individual from Europe? How come her father had invited a foreign God, if he did not think highly of them? Aimé realized what was going on, and let out a relieved sighed to call her father’s attention. “I’m glad he made it.”

Sol gave his younger daughter a confused look. “You invited him?”

“Well, you said you wanted someone from noble lineage, and I thought of him. He’s a gentleman and would be a perfect candidate for my big sister.”

“May I know from where do you know him?”

“Remember when I spent a couple of years in Spain?”

Sol connected the dots and smiled. “Ah, I see.” He turned to the stranger as he approached.

The Count named Osvaldo made a reverence none of the other guests recognized. “My King, I am honored that you would receive me at your daughter’s birthday.” La Muerte blinked. There was something about his voice…

“Hmm, the Royal Greeting of the Spanish Court, I have not seen it in years.” King Sol commented.

“My father was very strict in matters of etiquette.”

“I see. And who is your father.”

“Count Bartolo of Aragón.”

“I have heard of Count Bartolo, but I’m afraid I haven’t had the pleasure of meeting him.”

“He sent me over to inspect the family’s terrains, but when Miss Aimé invited me to her sister’s birthday, there was no way I could refuse.”

Sol nodded, and motioned to La Muerte. “Allow me to present you to my daughter, La Muerte.”

Xibalba had been very nervous when he first came in, thinking any of the other gods would recognize him, but thankfully no one found him familiar, even though they did give him suspicious glances. But when La Muerte stood up from the throne and came forward to meet him, his heart skipped a beat, and he was dazed by how beautiful she looked tonight, he could say even more beautiful than the magical night they danced on top of the cathedral in Venice. It had only been a month ever since he drove him away, but to him it had felt like an eternity, he stared at her like he had not seen her in years. It took him all his common sense to regain his composure.

“Notice me.” He pleaded in his head. “See through the mask, penetrate the disguise, recognize me, mi amor… Show that you know who I am, and then you may do as you please. Banish me, slap me, hold me close and repeat that you love me once more, but don’t ignore me. Anything, as long as you show that the time we spent together meant as much to you as it did to me…”

La Muerte had a feeling about this man. A feeling of déja vu when she felt his hazel eyes looking at her with such tenderness and adoration and reminded her of… La Muerte quickly shook the thought out of her head; maybe she was just imagining things. She smiled and curtsied politely at the count, who responded with a chivalrous reverence.

“It is my pleasure to be present in such an extravagant party, milady.” Osvaldo smiled, planting a kiss on the back of her hand in a way that sent shivers down her spine.

King sol noted that the newcomer had brought no servants carrying any sort of gift. “Your excellency, I do not mean to be rude, but I see you have brought no present for my daughter…”

“Oh, no, Your Highness, I did bring a present for the festejada.” Osvaldo smiled, and with a wave of his hand summoned a small, long white box with a red ribbon, which he held out to La Muerte with a hand. “I’m afraid it is not as expensive or luxurious as all other presents you have received, but I do hope it’s of your liking.”

La Muerte grabbed the box gently, and removed the lid. The content inside the box made her gasp in utter surprise, and she was flooded with memories…

It was a rose. But not any kind of rose, this rose was of a beautiful purple-blue color, with a black ribbon wrapped around its thornless stem. She picked it up from the box and twirled the stem in the fingers, examining the flower. It was truly beautiful, and there were even a few drops of dew on the petals. Most maidens present gasped in surprise and others whispered in envy, roses of that color were very hard to find. The rest of La Muerte’s suitors snickered, unimpressed by the flower’s extraordinary and unusual coloration; a simple rose? That was all? If this was all he had no ofer then he was no threat.

Until they saw the expression on La Muerte’s face.

“Thank you very much, your Excellency…” she said, smelling the rose and feeling the pleasant aroma, much more better than that of common roses. “I am very grateful.”

“It is my pleasure, milady.” With another reverence, the Count strode down the steps and was lost amongst the multitude.

La Muerte returned to the throne, holding the rose and staring at it. She was intrigued, where had he obtained such a rose? There was only one place she had seen roses this color and with such a fragrant aroma, and it had been where she never thought she’d find them. She recalled the garden at the top of Xibalba’s castle, there was a particular section filled with roses of this exact color which emanated this floral smell tenfold. He had told her he could watch them as much as she liked, but asked her not to pluck any; those roses had been his mother’s favorites, they meant very much to him and cared for those flowers with great affection.

“You seem to be interested in that stranger, dear daughter…” Sol chuckled.

“Don’t get your hopes up, Father.” La Muerte replied, though she still held the blue rose in her hands. “I don’t even know him.”

“You could get to know him a little better… or Lord Itzlacol.”

“I don’t have any sort of interest for Itzlacol.”

“Mija, if you’d give him a chance-“

“No, I don’t want anything with someone with such an attitude towards women.”

Soon the party begun. The best musicians brought by Sol (Beethoven, Vivaldi, Bach and Paganini) from the Famous Musicians quarter in the city started to play their best symphonies and compositions. The hall was filled with chattering from guests, some dancing already with their pairs, others went directly to the buffet table to serve and stuff themselves. La Muerte declined most of her suitors’ ask for a dance, she was not in the mood for dancing right now. But her father was not helping, when Itzlacol came forward and asked her for a dance he had answered for her.

Sighing irritatedly, La Muerte had no other choice but to head over to the dance floor with Itzlacol, shivering uncomfortably as he placed his hand on her abdomen, and waltzed with her, surrounded by other couples. Thankfully, she hadn’t had any symptoms of the pregnancy, and if she was lucky she would hang on until the end of the party.

“You surely look beautiful tonight, dear La Muerte.” Itzlacol complimented.

“Thanks.” La Muerte responded curtly, hoping someone would soon claim her for a dance.

“It has been a while ever since I saw you. I do not mean to intrude, but I hear your husband was not a good man.”

“For a while he looked like he was. I don’t want to talk about it.”

“What that Lord Xibalba did was unconceivable. If I had such a wonderful woman as you by my side, I’d treat her like the queen she is and fill her with appreciation and love.”

“Your wife will be very fortunate, then.”

“Indeed she will.” Itzlacol was interrupted when he felt a tapping on hi shoulder.

Xibalba boiled with rage when he saw another man daring to dance with his wife. He wanted to go ahead and punch that bastard in the face, but he was not Xibalba tonight, he was a complete stranger to everyone. Instead, he walked towards them as they danced and tapped Itzlacol’s shoulder. The god looked at him, irritated. “Can I help you?”

What an arrogance. “If you don’t mind, I’d like to dance with the cumpleañera. If she doesn’t mind, that is.”

La Muerte was actually grateful that he had come to ‘rescue’ her. “I don’t mind, your Excellency.”

“You don’t have to be so formal, milady. You may call me Osvaldo.”

La Muerte headed over to the Count, while Itzlacol returned to the honor guest table, muttering something under his breath. As headed over to the dance floor once again, she couldn’t help but shiver when he held her by the waist an grabbed her hand in such a tender way, the way he was looking at her as they danced, it reminded her of… she shook the thought out of her head again.

Xibalba felt his heart accelerating its pulse when he held her hand and danced with her once again, when he was close to her after weeks of being way from her light and warmth, he wanted to reveal himself to her so badly, tell her that he lover her and wanted her back, but…he needed to talk with her alone, he had to find a way to lure her to a private place. He noticed she was a bit stiff, and there was a thoughtful expression on her face.

“Is something wrong, milady?” he inquired gently.

“N-No… It’s nothing…” La Muerte replied, lowering her gaze.

“I do not mean to intrude, milady, but I’ve heard from some of the others that you are… married…”

“I am…”

“And yet you have many suitors around here.”

“It was all my father’s idea. I don’t really like the idea of hanging out with other men while I’m still a married woman… even though the man I have to call my husband actually deserves it.”

Xibalba felt hurt at her words, but he knew she had every right to think like that right now. “He doesn’t sound pleasant.”

“He deceived me in the cruelest way…” La Muerte tried her best not to cry. “He made me think he truly cared for me… but it was all a lie. I had grown to…” she couldn’t take it anymore. “I-I’m sorry… I… I can’t…”

Xibalba watched as out of sudden she released herself of his hold and picked up her skirts as she rushed out of the ballroom. He waited a few seconds before going after her to make sure she didn’t know he was following her yet. He followed her through the halls towards the balcony that led into the castle grounds. La Muerte stopped just at the railing and rested her hands on it, and then she started to sob. No matter what she did, she couldn’t stop thinking about Xibalba. She wanted to hate him for toying with her, but a great part of her knew she still loved him, though she hated herself for it.

Xibalba was just at the doorway, watching her form the shadows. He felt so horrible in seeing his beloved in such emotional pain. And he was responsible for it; it filled his soul with regret and sorrow. Xibalba couldn’t help it anymore, and used his Soul Gaze to see what was going on through her head; momentarily his pupils became red and skull-shaped, and rotated forward to read La Muerte’s thoughts. He saw memories of him and the times they spent together, the fondest she had of him, and yet he also saw conflict. “She’s thinking of me… she still loves me…” he still had a chance to mend things up, to win back her heart so they could be a family, the three of them.

La Muerte heard footsteps behind her, and had the feeling of who had come after her. Thankfully it was not Itzlacol.

“Milady, are you alright?” Osvaldo approached, walking next to her.

La Muerte had to look away in order to hide her tears from the visitor. “I-It’s okay, I… I just…”

Osvaldo took a napkin out of his pocket and handed it over to her. “Here.”

She felt obligated to accept the napkin from him, and wiped her tears with it. “G-Gracias…”

“I’m sorry if I said something inappropriate, milady. I did not mean to bring you back unpleasant memories…”

“It’s not that, but…”

“I understand if you don’t want to talk about it…”

“Don’t worry, Osvaldo, I just needed a moment of peace…”

Osvaldo smiled, and placed a hand on her shoulder. “I understand.” He glanced over at the gardens, very green, colorful and full of life. He saw a maze below them, just like the one in his castle, but this one was alive. It was a perfect place to talk with her. “Say… would you like to play a little game?”

“A game?” La Muerte turned to him, intrigued.

“A small round of hide-and-seek in the maze. Who knows? It might clear your head a bit…”

“I’m not sure, Father must be looking for me-“

“I insist, right now the least thing you need is being surrounded by men who don’ respect your decisions.”

La Muerte thought for a moment. He had a good point there, and besides, she needed a break form all of this. “Okay.” Osvaldo smiled at her. For some reason his smile made her feel safe, and again she found it familiar.

“Count to twenty, while I’ll go hide in the maze. If you find me I’ll give you a surprise.”

“What kind of surprise?”

“You’ll see.”

La Muerte covered her eyes with her hands. “One, two, three…” she heard Osvaldo teleporting away towards the maze, and continued to count for a while. “…eighteen, nineteen, twenty.” She lowered her hands, and found herself alone. Once again lifting her skirts, La Muerte walked down the marble steps leading down unto the garden, and headed into the maze. She had played here ever since her childhood, she knew it like the back of her hand, finding Osvaldo would be a piece of cake. Soon she walked into the center of the maze, where the water of the crystalline fountain calmly ran.

“Osvaldo?” La Muerte called out for the Count, looking around.

No reply. She thought she heard something moving in the darkness, but she couldn’t see anything.

“Osvaldo, this isn’t funny.”

Xibalba stared at her from the shadows as she looked around for Osvaldo. He wanted to go ahead and reveal himself, but he was afraid. He had longed and yet feared for this moment, he was afraid to face her, afraid of her rejecting him and refusing him to be part of their child’s life. But he gathered every bit of courage in his body, and spoke. “La Muerte.”

The goddess froze when she heard a very familiar voice coming fro the darkness. No, it couldn’t be. She had to be hallucinating, maybe she missed him so much she was hearing things; but she caught a green glow in the corner of her eye, and warily turned around, taking her hands to her abdomen instinctively, even though the baby was still in development and ran no real danger. When she turned around, a figure in black walked out of the shadows.

Xibalba stepped out of the darkness, his glamour gone, back to his true self.

La Muerte was frozen in shock. It couldn’t be…! Xibalba and Osvaldo were the same person?! It made sense, though… the blue rose, the way he had looked at her, the way he held her when they danced, the familiarity of his voice. But… But…! Her consciousness started to slip away.

Xibalba barely had time to react as La Muerte fainted; he caught her in his arms just as she collapsed. “La Muerte!” as he held her in his arms once more, he recalled all the times he had carried her. He felt her familiar floral aroma overwhelm him once again, he saw the lines of her face and her cherry-flavored lips, he was tempted to kiss her, he died to taste those beautiful lips once again like he had on that night they had became one… Which reminded him… He placed his hand on top of her abdomen, where the fruit of their love was flourishing… he could imagine a tiny heartbeat inside her, his child, his baby… A while later Xibalba lifted his hand to stroke his wife’s cheek with his thumb, feeling the warmth of her skin.

Now he guessed he’d have to wait.

La Muerte had no idea of how much time passed when she started to regain her consciousness, but the memories of what had happened just before everything faded to black struck her like the ocean waves crashing against the coastal rocks. She shifted and her vision started to clear, finding herself back at the center of the maze in the garden, and sitting next to her was….

“You’re awake.”

Him.

La Muerte was momentarily confused. “What…?” was she imagining things?

“You fainted.” Xibalba said softly, glancing down at her with worry.

Then came the anger and indignation. “YOU?!”

“It would seem so…”

La Muerte immediately went back to her feet and stepped away from the tar god, glaring at him with all the hatred she could muster. “HOW DID YOU GET IN HERE?!”

“It’s a talent I always possessed, my dear…” Xibalba said calmly, getting on his feet as well. “Besides, I thought your daddy had invited all available gods from the pantheon.”

“Why did you come in the first place?!” she snapped, stepping back when he took a step forward. “What do you want?!”

“I must talk to you!”

“For WHAT?! So you can humiliate me again?! Forget it!” La Muerte tried to leave, but suddenly vines grew in the entrances, blocking all possible exits. She had forgotten Xibalba always had tricks up his sleeves.

“No, La Muerte, I have not tome here to humiliate you…” there was regret in Xibalba’s voice when he spoke. “Not even close…”

Having no other choice, La Muerte turned to look at him with tears of anger gathering in her eyes. “Then what do you want?!”

“Actually, I just wanted to ask you something...”

“What?!”

Xibalba decided to try and indirectly ask her what he wanted to know. “How have you been feeling the last few days? Did anything in particular happen? I mean, well, you are acting a bit weird… I have seen you mad before and you never reacted this way.”

“What is it to you?! I don’t have to give you any explanations! And in case you forgot, I have every single right to be mad at you!” La Muerte hissed.

“I know that and I’m sorry for it!” Xibalba snapped back, hurt at her words. “But I DO need you to tell me one thing!” He’d go straight to the point. “Is it true what my brother told me?”

La Muerte froze. Zipacna! Damn it she should have known that croc head would go tell Xibalba of what transpired between them. But maybe she was misunderstanding things and he had told her another thing. “Speak at once or get out of my sight!”

He narrowed his eyes. “Is it true that you’re pregnant?” he asked, all humor gone from his voice, speaking with great seriousness.

She was speechless. He knew. She wanted to deny it, but her love for her unborn child prevented her from denying the little one. She remained silent in shock and dread, especially when she felt Xibalba’s anxious expression unto her.

“Is it?” Xibalba stepped forward, cornering her against the maze wall. His anxiety got the better of him, and he grabbed La Muerte by the shoulders, glaring into her sun-colored eyes in despair. “ANSWER ME!”

“I AM!”

Silence. Xibalba was staring down at his wife, hurt and bewildered. She was expecting a child, and she hadn’t wanted him to know… she was going to deny him the right to meet the baby, their baby. The hurt turned to anger once again.

“And you still think you are the only one who has the right to be angry?!” his grip on her shoulders tightened. “Why didn’t you tell me as soon as you found out?!”

La Muerte released herself of his grasp and stepped back before he could grab her again. “Why would I have to?!” she yelled at him, and placed her hands on her abdomen. “This child is mine! You rejected it the moment you threw me away like a trash bag!”

The tears were making their way to Xibalba’s eyes as he retorted. “I had the right to know! I’m his FATHER! And that is not true! I know you wouldn’t have ran into another man’s arms that easily!”

“Why not?! You did the same thing with me!” it hurt La Muerte to remember it. His words, the cruel look on his face, the way he had discarded her. “You only used me, and when you had what you wanted you discarded me just like that! Didn’t you say so yourself?!”

He could not bear it anymore. He could not contain his tears of hurt anymore. Aggressively, he slipped the glove off his left hand and held it out, showing his wedding band still on his finger. “YOU SEE THIS?! DO YOU SEE IT?!” he roared in frustration. “I know I told you those awful things, but did you ever wonder if I actually meant it?!” he barely managed to calm down, slipping his hand into the glove once more. “Ever since you left thinks changed and settled… Facts of my past came to light. Facts that changed me forever…”

La Muerte couldn’t lie. She was surprised and even one could say moved that despite everything he still kept his wedding band, but it merely lasted two or three seconds. “Do you think I’m stupid?” La Muerte narrowed her eyes, trying to sound as unmoved as possible. “You think I’m going to fall for your little act all over again? No, Xibalba, I won’t make that mistake again.”

Her words stabbed at his heart. He was certain he’d die of heartbreak if she continued with her seemingly impenetrable barrier. “La Muerte… I know what I did was very wrong… It was the stupidest thing I’ve ever done-“

“I doubt it.”

“I’m very sorry for it… There is no day I don’t regret those words.”

La Muerte turned her back on him, crossing her arms as another barrier. “Save your lies and your crocodile tears for someone who actually believes them.”

In desperation, Xibalba abruptly took a quick stepped and managed to grab her arm. “You may think those things were not true, but… do you believe this?” his hold slipped to her hand and he placed it on her abdomen, where their child was growing. “The love that I have for you lives in your womb… it’s there, La Muerte. And most of all.” He lifted her hand and took it to his chest, his eyes pleading and tender. “My heart never belonged to another woman, and it never will… My heart belongs only to you.”

The wall she had put around her feelings started to crack, but La Muerte refused to grow soft on him. She had to be firm. She scowled and took her hand back from his. “Don’t you dare use my child as an excuse!” She was weeping now, the tears were rolling down her cheeks like waterfalls. “I told you that I loved you and you didn’t care! You just threw me away! I pleaded! I begged you! And you just turned away from me!”

“You don’t know why I did it! I did it out of love for you! Because I thought you deserved something better than me!”

“Maybe I do, after all!”

Those words nearly did it. “Be careful what you wish for, La Muerte…”

La Muerte turned away from him. “My father was right about you all along and I didn’t want to believe him…” she glared at her husband once again. “I don’t want my child to become like you!”

This time there was no reply. Xibalba stared at his wife, heartbroken. If she was saying this to get back at him for what he had told her, it was working, he didn’t know if he’d resist any more rejections and scorns from her. He remembered Zipacna’s words.

Be sincere this time.

“No… you know what? You are right.”

That actually surprised La Muerte.

“He won’t become like me only if you tell him the only wrong thing about his father.”

“And what would that be?”

Xibalba looked down regretfully. “That I am desperately in love with you… That is the only thing that I did wrong, my sin…”

She knew it. “So you regret meeting me-“

Xibalba lifted his hand. “Let me finish.” He said with a serious expression. “The only wrong thing about loving you is the fact that I wish you all the happiness in the world, even if it means to let you find this happiness in another person.”

La Muerte was speechless. The fires of her anger started to extinguish despite her attempt to keep them lit, the wall was starting to crumble. Her heart screamed at her to go and embrace him, but she was doing her best not to. It could be a lie… Xibalba wiped his tears away and warily floated closer to his wife, grabbing her hands.

“La Muerte… at least think about letting me be there for my child… Let me be part of his life, love him… or her… the same way I love his mother.”

La Muerte slid her hand off his hold, calmly and reluctantly this time. “H-How can I be certain that you’re not just toying with my feelings again?! How can I forgive you when I don’t trust you anymore-?” she was surprised when he shushed her by placing his finger on her lips.

“No…” he said softly, brushing her tears away with his thumb. “No more tricks. No more lies. Only truth.” He smiled sadly. “Tell me whatever you want… But never doubt the fact that I love you, and I would do anything to see you happy, mi amor.”

La Muerte didn’t know what to say. There was a pleading, sad look in his eyes that tugged at her heart and compassion, it was almost as if she was seeing all the sadness of the world. Those eyes that both threatened and adored. “I…”

“La Muerte!”

The goddess turned her head around in the direction of the stairs on the other side of the maze when she heard Aimé calling out for her. Dammit, she had taken too long outside; surely her father must have sent Aimé to look for her. She had to go, if anyone found Xibalba here… She didn’t know what her father was capable of doing to him for trespassing uninvited. Xibalba understood what she was thinking, and with a snap of his fingers made the vines blocking the exits disappear. But before La Muerte could run off, he pulled her close by the waist into a fierce but tender kiss. La Muerte was caught off guard, but before she could push him away he pulled back on his own.

“Just a reminder.” He said, before he vanished in a streak of tar.

La Muerte stared at the spot he had been standing mere seconds ago as she lifted her fingers to touch her lips, her cheeks red. If she had been confused with her feelings before, now she was overwhelmed by the flurry of emotions. He had snuck into her birthday party, risking himself of being banished or punished by either her father or the Kings, just to tell her he had lied to her, that he loved her, that he wanted to raised the baby with her. She didn’t know what she’d do about it.

Aimé’s voice echoed in the wind once again. “La Muerte!”

Glancing back at the center of the garden once last time, La Muerte ran out of the maze.

Chapter Text

The Land of the Remembered had been silent for hours, and all the crowds were staring in worry at the direction of the castle. Their Queen was about to bring a new life into the world, and they had heard no news from the inside.

Sol was pacing in front of the doors, wincing everytime he heard his wife screaming. He was very worried, it had been thirteen hours ever since the labor started, and still nothing. What if something went wrong…? This was their fifth attempt, Esperanza’s previous pregnancies had ended up in miscarriages or stillbirths, he prayed with all his might things would be different this time.

He froze when he heard a baby’s cry from behind the door.

He wanted to burst inside and see his wife and child, but they had been locked to keep him from intervening and making his wife nervous. Finally, after a few more minutes, the doors opened and the head midwife walked out, looking out at the King with a smile.

“Felicidades, Majesty. The Queen had a beautiful baby girl.”

Sol was finally allowed inside. He found his beloved wife on bed, she looked all worn out, her hair was strewn on bed, but her attention was set on the tiny pink bundle on her arms. Esperanza looked up at her husband with a warm smile, weeping tears of joy.

“Mi Sol… Come and meet your new daughter.”

Smiling, Sol walked towards the edge of the bed, taking a look at his little one, his hands behind his back. The baby girl took mostly after her mother, she let out a small gurgle as she suckled on her thumb, snuggling against her mother’s chest.

“She’s beautiful, just like you.” Sol smiled, sitting down at the edge of bed and stroking his wife’s cheek. “Our baby girl…”

Esperanza smiled at him and held out the wriggling baby to her husband. “Here.”

Sol was very careful when he accepted his daughter from his wife, and froze when she wiggled and let out a few sobs upon realizing she was not with her mama anymore. “Shh, it’s okay, my child. I’m your papa.” The baby girl seemingly recognized her father’s voice and quieted down, much to his relief. Soon she opened her little eyes, and looked up at her father with her mother’s sun-colored eyes, and gave him a toothless smile. “My baby girl…”

When the baby wiggled in her father’s embrace, he returned her to her mother. Esperanza stroked her daughter’s cheek gently, giggling when the little one’s fingers closed tightly around her finger. “Our little La Muerte…”

“La Muerte… It fits her…” Sol sighed, stroking his daughter’s head.

Little La Muerte gurgled in delight at her new name, and let out a small yawn, falling asleep shortly after as she snuggled into her mother’s embrace.

Xibalba had zoomed through the gardens unseen, thankfully, and made it to the stables, where Medianoche and Blanca were affectionately catching up; he was glad that at least his horse’s girl was not mad at him. Reluctantly, he grabbed Medianoche’s bridle and led him away with some difficulty, since the black stallion didn’t want to leave his mare so soon after reuniting, but eventually he led Medianoche away to a spot no one would see them. Then he teleported the both of them back to his castle, just in front of the stables. Medianoche snorted sadly, lowering his ears.

“It’s okay, chico.” Xibalba sighed, stroking his head comfortingly. “If things go like I think we’ll have our girls back soon…” rather, he hoped they did. Juarez rushed from the inside of the stables and grabbed the reins of the horse, looking up at his master.

“So how did it go, My Lord?” he inquired curiously; sometimes he was too curious for his own good.

“Sort of good, I think…” Xibalba replied, sighing as he made his way back inside the castle, his cape flowing behind him with the night breeze. He silently headed over to his room with a heavy heart, recalling how he had seen her cry, her angry and hurt expression when she saw him again, the kiss he had managed to steal from her before leaving her again… He would never forget it, that kiss, so sweet after a month of distance, he had been afraid he’d eventually forget how her lips tasted like, how soft her skin was.

When Xibalba finally crossed the doors into his bedchambers, he didn’t bother to undress himself as he went straight to his bed and allowed his body to fall on top of it. Seeing her again was both a happy and sorrowful experience, he was happy to be close to her once more even for a while, but he felt guilty at the way she had cried over him. How could he have been so selfish? Thinking only of himself, not thinking of how she would feel. He regretted what he had done deeply, he wished he could take back all those horrible words. He wanted his La Muerte back, he wanted his first friend, his wife, the mother of his child, back home; he wanted to make up for everything, to make her the happiest of women and raise their child together. He wished his mother was there, she’d know what to do…

The tips of his fingers found their way up to his lips, recalling the kiss. Then he recalled when he touched his unborn child for the first time ever, his paternal instinct awoke that very moment, he couldn’t wait to meet his baby, to hold his little son or daughter close in his arms and shower him with affection and love. He had to show La Muerte he cared about both her and the baby, that he had changed…

Speaking of which, he had to start thinking about his upcoming fatherhood. There were still so many things he had to do for the little one’s arrival, the nursery, the cradle, toys, clothing for the baby… he wanted to give La Muerte a surprise when she came back (if she did come back, he hoped so with all his might). But he didn’t even know the baby’s gender, what if he picked the wrong color? He’d have to make changes in the whole castle, close off the dangerous areas and put fencing on all stairs, not to mention there were too many sharp items in here in part because everything was made of obsidian.

There was a knock on his door. “Come in.” he said emotionlessly, embracing La Muerte’s pillow.

Soon enough, Epona peeked her head in. “So, how did it go?”

“She still loves me…” Xibalba replied, stroking the pillow. “She still loves me, but… She doesn’t want me with her anymore…”

“Well, what did you expect after the way you threw her out of your life?”

“That’s not helping!” he snapped, glaring back at his friend with hurt. “I know what I did was wrong, okay?! I want to make up for it but La Muerte doesn’t believe I’ve changed!”

“Then show her.” Epona said, softly this time, as she made her way to the bed and sat down at the edge. “Women don’t like big-mouthed men who only brag and don’t do what they preach, they want a man who no matter how many times he screws up, he will always correct it. If you truly love her, show her you are willing to do anything for her to forgive you.”

Xibalba glanced back at her in surprise. “How do you know?”

“I am a woman. Believe me, she will forgive you eventually if she loves you as much as you love her.”

“… Thanks.”

“Anytime, you old goat.” Epona giggled when the dark god muttered something under his breath and hid his face into the pillows.

“By the way… I was wondering if you could lend me a hand… with the baby’s stuff and all that...”

“Don’t you think you should wait till you know the baby’s gender?”

“That’s what I was thinking also.”

“But there are a few things you don’t need to know the gender to make.”

Interested, Xibalba sat up in bed to look at the goddess curiously. “I’m listening.”

La Muerte spent most of the party with her sister and a few other friends, chatting over what they had been doing these months, and politely declined her suitors’ ask to dance. Finally, she headed over to her throne to take a breath, subtly placing her hands on her abdomen, stroking her unborn baby. She was still thinking about her encounter with Xibalba, of his words and the kiss he stole from her. She didn’t know if she should believe him or not, he could be as well trying to lure her back to hurt her again, but that look in his eyes told her he was being sincere. There were just so much thoughts in her mind! She had unknowingly grabbed the blue rose Xibalba had given her, there was no doubt plucked it from his mother’s bushes.

If he was willing to part with something so precious to him for her, then he had to be telling the truth… right?

But then the memories came back to haunt her, recalling his parting words and the mocking look on his face, and she’d become afraid again. Just then, her father approached from the dance floor.

“Is something bothering you, my child?” he inquired gently, holding her hand.

“N-No, Father, I’m okay…” La Muerte lied, though Sol didn’t buy it.

“I know you, La Muerte, I can tell there’s something in your thoughts.” He noticed she was holding the blue rose the count had given her. “I see you liked Count Osvaldo’s present.”

La Muerte blushed lightly. “I am intrigued. I never thought I’d see a blue rose…”

“He must be very resourceful if he could obtain one.”

“I guess.”

“He’d seem like a good candidate for your hand in marriage.”

She shivered uncomfortably; he had no idea that the Count was Xibalba himself, but maybe it’d be better if he didn’t know. “He seems like a better option than Itzlacol.”

“Mija, you shouldn’t judge him without knowing him first.”

“And why are we talking about marriage if I’m still Xibalba’s wife? As far as I know he has not signed the papers.”

“He will, I will make sure of it. Everyone has a price, even him. We just need to find the right button.”

“Father, if you don’t mind, I’m having a headache and I’d like to go rest.”

“Are you sure, my dear? I can tell Lorena to accompany you back to your room if you’d like.”

“No, its okay, Father, I just-“

As La Muerte stood up to head for her room, suddenly her worst fear came true, and her consciousness faded away.

“La Muerte!”

The music stopped and all the guests turned around just in time to see La Muerte fainting and Sol catching her. Alarmed, King Sol took a hand to her forehead and found she had no fever, but why had she fainted then? Aimé’s heart skipped a beat when she saw her sister fainting.

“La Muerte, wake up!” Sol tried to shake his daughter awake in vain.

“What happen, your highness?!” Itzlacol was, of course, one of the first to leave his seat and rush towards King Sol. “Is the princess alright?”

“I don’t know, she just…!”

Toci instantly knew the signal. “Let’s take her to her room so I can check on her.”

Aimé immediately went after her father, Itzlacol and Toci as they carried La Muerte up to her room. They would discover everything; they would learn she was with a child, and they would figure what it meant. Toci had La Muerte placed on her bed, and asked the other gods to leave the room so she could check on her. As Sol paced outside, Itzlacol noted Aimé was beyond anxious.

“Princess Aimé, is something bothering you?” he inquired, and his suspicions were confirmed when she jumped.

“Y-Yes, I’m okay, I’m just worried about Muertita…” Unfortunately, Aimé didn’t know how to lie, and her father noticed.

“Aimé, do you know something?” he inquired gently, placing his hands on her shoulders. “Por favor, mija, if you know what’s going on with your sister please tell me.”

“I… She…”

Before Aimé could say anything, Toci walked out of the room with a serious expression. Sol and Itzlacol immediately ran towards her. “Did you find anything?! What’s wrong with my daughter?!” the elder god cried out.

“La Muerte is not ill, Sol. She’s carrying a baby.”

Aimé closed her eyes in resignation. Sol and Itzlacol were shocked; pregnant? La Muerte was pregnant? It was impossible! Unless… No… Sol glanced at Aimé and saw her downtrodden expression. Realization dawned unto him. “You knew about this…?”

Knowing there was no point in hiding it any longer, Aimé nodded. “I did, daddy… I’m sorry…”

“Why didn’t you tell me, Aimé?!” there was more hurt than anger in Sol’s voice as he approached his daughter and grabbed her shoulders abruptly. “Why didn’t you tell me La Muerte was pregnant?!”

“She asked me not to! She wanted to tell you at the right moment!”

“W-Wait, if she’s pregnant…” Itzlacol drew his conclusions. “It can only mean one thing, she and Xibalba-“

“No.” Sol couldn’t believe it. “No, no, no!” he punched the wall, startling both Aimé and Toci. If the marriage had been consummated, a divorce was impossible now. She would be bound to that horrible entity forever. And the worst thing of all was that he had planted his seed on her. He needed to know what had happened. “I can’t believe that monster…”

“She should wake up soon, you may talk to her, but do not upset her. She needs all the support she can get right now.”

“Aimé, could you accompany Itzlacol and entertain the guests for a while?” Sol asked his younger daughter. “Tell them La Muerte fainted because she had not been eating properly.”

“Yes, Father.” Aimé nodded, and ran down the hall, followed by Toci and Itzlacol. King Sol sighed and went inside his daughter’s room, finding her still on her bed, unconscious. He had failed his daughter. He had failed to protect her, and now she was carrying a child from a cruel god. He was not angry at her, he was angry at himself, if he had forced her out of Xibalba’s clutches when he could this wouldn’t have happened.

La Muerte started to stir awake, and the first thing she noticed was that she was in her bed, in her room. Realization washed over her, and she froze in horror. What she had feared had happened, she fainted in front of her father, in front of everyone… It could only mean one thing…

“Mija.”

She jumped when she heard her father’s voice, and found him standing next to her bed with a serious expression. “F-Father…”

“La Muerte, I’m going to ask you something. But I’m asking you, please, be honest with me.” He said, staring down at her solemnly. “Toci said you’re pregnant. Is it true?”

La Muerte placed her hands on her abdomen, closing her eyes in resignation. “It is. I’m pregnant, Father…”

“is Xibalba the father of the child?”

“He is.”

“If this happened, is what I think happened true? Did you give yourself to him? Was that the reason you returned?”

Her eyes were swelling up with tears. “Y-Yes… He made me….” She couldn’t finish the sentence.

“That son of a…!” Sol instantly grew angry, pacing around the room, his hands clenched into fists. “I will have him executed!”

“Father, leave it be! What matters is that I left him forever!”

“It doesn’t change the fact he dared to defile you!” Sol snapped. “Don’t ask me to let this slip, La Muerte, because I can’t!” his anger turned into sadness as he sat down on the edge of his daughter’s bed. “This is all my fault…! If I had brought you home when I could, he wouldn’t have had the chance to strip you of your maidenhood…! The marriage was consummated, you won’t be able to get free of him…”

La Muerte hugged her abdomen, as if trying to cover her unborn child from her Father. “Father, I beg of you! Don’t make me give up this baby! It’s mine! I don’t care who his father is, he’s my baby!”

“Make you…” Sol glanced at his daughter in surprise and genuine hurt. “La Muerte… Do you really think I’d be that heartless?” he shifted closer to his daughter, holding her hand. “I’d never separate my grandchild from his mother.”

All the dread and fear she had been feeling started to disappear when Sol hugged her, stroking her head gently in comfort.

“A baby is not to blame for who engenders him. If you wish to have your child, you have all my support, mija. We shall give the little one all the love he deserves, and we’ll teach him values and principles, he won’t be like his father. I promise.”

“Ay, papá…” La Muerte finally broke down, and she sobbed into her father’s chest, returning the embrace tightly. Father and daughter stayed like that for what seemed like hours, La Muerte felt a great weight being lifted of her chest; she was thankful her father understood, that he had accepted her baby even though Xibalba was his father... But she was afraid he’d fulfill his promise and do something to Xibalba. As angry and disappointed as she could be at him, he was still the father of her child.

Speaking of which, she was wondering what he was doing right now.

Emilio never thought he’d ever see his master, Lord Xibalba, the Last of the Ancient Lords of the Underworld, the Black Swordsman, fretting over such a simple thing as a baby. He had spent hours in his library looking for every single book about fatherhood and babies, and spent all night reading. He had to admit, it was quite amusing to see him read, then scribble something down on a scroll, then read again. Xibalba had also written to some fertility goddesses from the European pantheons, a privilege he had for being acquainted with most pantheons from his homeland, and from serving a few of them in the wars.

Xibalba had to say, though, he was a bit frustrated with the replies he got. Most of them told him that fatherhood could not be learned from books, it was learned from experience, but they nevertheless congratulated him on the news. Unfortunately, he was so frantic he forgot to ask them to keep the secret, and within five hours all the European pantheons knew that Xibalba and La Muerte were being blessed with a child.

The next day, they received quite a surprise in the form of baby stuff, much to Xibalba’s dismay, they didn’t even know the gender of the baby and they were already sending things. Still, he had not the heart to send them back, and decided he’d ‘improvise’. He picked the room next to his as a potential nursery, and had the lizards remove all dangerous objects or furniture with sharp corners. They spent all day accommodating the things, but as it turned out, Xibalba was very picky.

“A bit to the left… No, not so much!”

Lorenzo muttered something mentally, as he, Luis and Gael moved the bassinet again, only to be yelled at again. “Don’t get it close to the window!”

“Aren’t you exaggerating?” Regina sighed. “The baby hasn’t even been born yet, and La Muerte is still mad at you.”

“I know, I just…” Xibalba sighed, rubbing his temples. “I want it to be perfect for her… For them.”

“I’m certain she’ll like it.” Emilio added, accommodating some stuffed animals and dolls on the couch (with sharpless corners). “She always liked details like this.”

“I just hope she will come back… What if she…?”

“Stop being so negative, would you?” Roberto said, groaning. “That’s why she left in the first place!”

“Thanks, I feel so much better!” Xibalba rolled his eyes and crossing his arms, but there was still a form of uncertainty in his features.

“That’s not the only thing bothering you, is it?” Emilio inquired.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about…”

Regina crossed her arms. “Xibalba.”

Emilio gulped. He did not approve of the way the female lizard sometimes referred to their master informally, just like that, he didn’t think it proper. They were still servants, no more, no less, no matter how many times Xibalba told him he didn’t have to worry so much about it. He didn’t mind being called by his name by them, actually. Xibalba sighed, and lay his back against the wall. “Can I talk to you alone?”

“Thank heaven!” Luis cried out as he, Lorenzo and Gael finally placed the cradle on the ground, panting heavily as they left the room, dragging Regina and a protesting Roberto.

Once they were alone, Emilio looked up to his master. “What is it, My Lord?”

“I want you to be completely honest, Emilio. No sugarcoating even if you think I’ll tear you limb to limb.” Xibalba said, sighing again.

“As you w-wish, My Lord…”

“Do you think I could be a good father?”

Silence. Emilio just stared up at his master in confusion. “Excuse me?”

“I mean… I’m happy to be having a baby with La Muerte, but… what if I’m not a good father…? I’m still afraid of turning out like Akrinok, I wouldn’t… I wouldn’t bear to lay a hand on her… on either of them… I love her more than m very own life… if something ever happens to her, I’d die along with her…”

Emilio thought for a moment, before speaking in a serious tone. “My Lord, I’ve known you ever since you were an infant. I saw you grow from the boy you were to the man you are now, I was there when you lost your mother, then your brother, and finally your father. I saw how you changed through the years, I saw how Akrinok influenced you and turned out into who you are.”

“You are not helping…” Xibalba groaned in dismay, he already knew he took much from his father to be reminded of it, for goodness sake!

“But you are not your father.” Emilio frowned at his master-a very rare thing-. “You have to understand that, Akrinok might have influenced on your way to be but you are not his clone. You have your own brain and your own will. You are far from being like Akrinok was. You have never laid a finger on a woman, you are only cruel when you need to, but you have never harmed innocents. You are selfless, you were willing to let La Muerte go even though you loved her. You may not be very attractive to some people, but on the inside you are still the sweet boy I saw learn and grow.” Finally, he smiled in reassurance. “I think you’d be a wonderful father.”

Xibalba was looking down at his head of staff, moved by how he talked about him. He had forgotten for the past decades, but Emilio was always like a father to him. He was so unlike Akrinok. Akrinok was cruel, abusive and never had a care for his feelings. Emilio was considerate, he always looked after him, gave him advice from the heart, never manipulated him for self-benefit. For the first time in a while, Xibalba gave Emilio a warm, thankful smile, like those he used to give him as a child.

“Gracias, Emilio.”

Emilio smiled in return. “You’re welcome, My Lord.”

The dark god glanced around the room, and saw the cradle was still in the wrong place. “I think the crib would do well a bit further to the center of the room.”

Chapter Text

The following days after the party, Sol made sure his daughter’s every need was tended to, and started making the preparations for the nursery as soon as possible. He was delighted at the idea that he was going to be a grandfather, he didn’t care if the father was Xibalba, it was La Muerte’s baby. Aimé would stay with her big sister the whole day, they’d chat about diets and exercises for the baby, names, and they’d often go to the marketplace to look for little clothing and toys. The merchants were delighted at the idea of their wares serving their beloved princess’s child, and so they showed her their best toys, the most beautiful and intricate baby clothing, booties, decorations for the nursery, among other things.

Like in all matters among the gods, this didn’t go unnoticed by the rest of the pantheon. Soon the word spread out that La Muerte was carrying a child, Xibalba’s child, but they did not blame her for it. Xibalba had tricked her, they said, oblivious to the truth of what had happened. Most of her potential suitor ceased their courting out of respect, and because none of them wished to raise Xibalba’s child as their own, which only served as a proof to La Muerte that they were only after her good looks. Still, she decided not to let it bother her, one thing less to worry about.

Her meeting with Xibalba was still in her mind, though. No matter what she tried, she couldn’t stop thinking about that kiss he stole from her before departing, those sweet words he had told her, that pleading look he had given her as he begged for her forgiveness. She didn’t know what to believe anymore, if he was just trying to lure her back so he could hurt her again, or if he was being sincere and wanted her to return to him. Right now, all what mattered to her was this little life she was carrying inside her womb.

La Muerte giggled as she placed a tiny pink baby suit with hearts and flowers on her belly, imagining her little one fitting in it. Aimé was accommodating little sets of gloves, hats and booties for her nephew or niece, along with a few toys. “These are beautiful, big sis.”

“I can’t believe this is happening…” La Muerte was smiling, stroking her belly, already starting to grow a bit, though it wouldn’t be noticeable until months later.

“I bet mamá would be very happy for you.”

“I guess…” La Muerte took her hand to her locket. “It would have been nice if she could have met her grandchild…”

“Oh, by the way, what did you and the Count talk about when you disappeared?”

“Well… we played a bit of hide and seek in the maze… and he…” La Muerte closed the door with a wave of her hand. “Amy, I have to ask you something.”

“What is it?”

“You knew Osvaldo was Xibalba all along, didn’t you?”

“W-Well…” Aimé was blushing. “Sort of.”

“How did you figure it out?”

“His attire. It was European, and he wore all black. And I noticed the way he was looking at you.” She realized her sister had stiffened a bit. “What happened between you?”

“He said that those things he told me… he said that he lied.” La Muerte sighed. “He said he did it because he wanted me to be happy, even if it was with someone else. But he regretted it, and wants me back.”

“What did you think?”

“I don’t know Amy…” La Muerte sighed. “My head tells me not to fall into his trickery again, but my heart tells me that he is being sincere… I just don’t know what to believe anymore…” She was staring at the blue rose he had given her, placed on an intricate light blue vase. It didn’t show any signs of withering yet, and a week had already passed. Aimé was captivated by the flower’s color.

“I wonder where he could have obtained such roses…”

“In his garden. They were his mother’s favorites, they mean very much to him… I was surprised that he gave me one, when he asked me not to pluck any…”

“La Muerte, I don’t mean to take his side, but maybe he was telling the truth. I mean, if he took the risk of coming to your birthday party just to tell you that, and part with something so important to him, it must be for a reason.”

“I know that, but… Everytime I see him I remember…”

“I understand, big sis.” Aimé smiled and grabbed her sister’s hand. “But remember what you said mamá used to say? The first to ask for forgiveness, is the bravest and the first to forgive…”

“…Is the strongest.” La Muerte finished, sighing. Just then, there was a knock on the door, and a maid peeked her head in.

“My apologies, princess, but your father requests your presence in the throne room. You have a visitor.”

“A visitor?” Who could want to see her? Thankfully it wasn’t one of those suitors from before. After another reassuring glance with Aimé, La Muerte stood up from bed and left her room, walking down the hallway and downstairs until she came to the throne room. In fact, Sol was there, and with him was…

Oh, great.

Osvaldo smiled and bowed politely. “Good morning, milady.”

La Muerte had to admit, he was stubborn. But right now she did her best to smile and curtsy in return. “What a surprise, your excellency.”

“I heard about what happened, milady…”

“It’s okay…”

“Anyway, mija, I was speaking to the Count here, and it turns out he has wished for a child of his own for a while.” Sol smiled, glancing at the count. “And he has been asking about you and the baby.”

“I was telling your father my best wishes for your baby.” Osvaldo told her, glancing at her abdomen.

“Thank you, your Excellency.” La Muerte couldn’t help but shiver internally. The way he looked at her still captivated her; even though she didn’t want t admit it.

“Anyway, I’ve brought you a present, if you don’t mind my daring…” warily in the eyes of Sol, Osvaldo took a few steps towards the goddess lifting his hands, and out of thin air conjured a blue rose out of thin air; just like the one from a week ago. Smiling, he held it out to La Muerte, who blushed as she accepted the flower.

“G-Gracias, Osvaldo…” she stuttered lightly, cursing herself for showing weakness. It would give Xibalba a clue.

“I’m glad you liked it, milady.”

“I must ask, your Excellency, where do you obtain such beautiful roses?” Sol asked, glancing at the blue rose curiously.

“Family heritage. They grow in my garden from years back.”

“By the way, Excellency, I hope you don’t mind I invited Itzlacol to accompany us as well for tea time.”

Both La Muerte and Osvaldo shivered in discomfort. “Of course I do not mind, Majesty. It is your castle, you may invite whoever you wish.”

“If you will excuse me, Count, I’ll see if the table is ready. I think you and my daughter may want to talk a little.” King Sol winked at La Muerte as he discretely walked away. As soon as she was certain her father was out of earshot, she frowned.

“Xibalba, are you nuts?!” she hissed, glancing at the door her father had just left through. “If my father finds out, you’re dead!”

“I’m willing to take the risk for you, mi amor.” He said, momentarily growing serious, but his eyes showing the same determination as always, mixed with tenderness.

“I’m not tu amor!” she snapped, turning her back on him. She felt like throwing the rose to the ground and stepping on it to hurt him, but it meant very much to him. It would crush him, and the flower was not to blame for her being angry at the one who had given it to her.

“I see you’re still as hot-headed as the day I found you at the library reading Romeo and Juliet.” He chuckled sadly. “Remember what I said that time?”

“Oh, yes, I do. You said that love causes nothing but pain and suffering, that it was better never to love and save yourself the pain. That it made you weak and lets others take advantage of you.” She didn’t turn to him. “You know what? You were right. It was the love I felt for you that blinded me to the kind of person you were, because of it I let you trick me, and I paid it dearly.”

Using his own words against him. That was a severe blow. Xibalba was hurt and regretful of those words, but there was no way he could take them back now. “L-La Muerte, I…” he didn’t know what to say. He remembered Epona’s advice, to keep fighting for her even if it seemed impossible to win back her heart. “I know what I said. I know I spoke trash of love that time, but that was before…” he spoke from the heart. “That was before I got to know you, before I came to see you as a friend, before you won over my heart with your kindness and your sweetness despite my temper tantrums and my stubbornness… You may not believe me, but you’re the only woman I’ve ever truly loved. I won’t deny it; I’ve been with various women in my lifetime, but they never made me feel the way you made me feel. I never felt as loved as the night we became one, mi amor…”

La Muerte tried her best not to look back at him; she didn’t want him to see her eyes swelling up with tears, but she failed to contain a sob. Xibalba noticed, and reached out to place a comforting hand on her shoulder…

“Excuse me, am I interrupting something?”

Quickly, Xibalba regained his composure and La Muerte calmed herself down when Itzlacol walked in, and did their best to look natural. “Uh, no, the count and I were just chatting.” She said, turning around and hoping he wouldn’t notice she was about to cry.

Itzlacol glanced at the blue rose. “I see you got ahead of me, Excellency.”

“Do you bring a gift for her as well?” Osvaldo asked indifferently.

“Indeed, I have.” With a snap of his fingers, one of Itzlacol’s servants rushed forward holding a small box with a beautiful diamond necklace, but the diamonds were red. “I had a red diamond necklace brought from the best jeweler in Europe for you, dear La Muerte.”

It took Osvaldo every ounce of self control not to give Itzlacol a well-deserved punch in the jaw for referring to his wife like that, but thankfully a servant came and informed them that tea was ready. La Muerte immediately headed forward before any of the men could offer their arm to her. She simply was not in the mood for that. As La Muerte got ahead of them, Itzlacol glanced at Osvaldo.

“Where do you get such… rare flowers, if I may ask?”

Osvaldo didn’t bother to look at him. “They’ve grown in my family’s garden for generations, They are a sort of family relic.”

“Forgive my daring, Excellency, but would you be willing to part with some of those roses?”

He turned to the fire god in alarm. “What do you mean?”

“I would like to buy a few of your roses. I’ve been trying to obtain those kind of roses for years, but up to now I haven’t found any, I’m afraid.”

Osvaldo frowned at Itzlacol, subtly tightening his fists. “I’m sorry, Lord Itzlacol, but those roses are not for sale.” With this, he walked towards the door, incensed, not looking back at Itzlacol.

To say tea time was awkward would have been an understatement.

La Muerte would have called it more questioning her potential suitors than anything, if she had anything to say on the matter. The castle’s tearoom was spacious, the table and chairs were of maple wood with carved out flowers and sugar skulls, while the teapot and cups were ornamented with bright, warm colors. There were large windows that overlooked into the gardens, in part because Queen Esperanza had loved the sight of the gardens, which is why King Sol had picked this particular room.

Osvaldo had gotten ahead of Itzlacol and pulled back the chair for her to sit, much to Itzlacol’s chagrin, though he didn’t show it. La Muerte could tell her father was impressed with Osvaldo’s etiquette and chivalry, something not even Itzlacol could match. She could see the glints of jealously in the fire god’s eyes, though she could also see her father had sight preference over him, which didn’t surprise her on the least.

“So you have participated in jousting tournaments?” Itzlacol asked his rival uninterested as he placed his cup down.

“I used to, but in one of those occasions I fell off my horse and hurt my back. I had to rest for a long while.” Osvaldo sighed.

“I’ve never participated in one, but you make it sound like an interesting sport, your Excellency.” King Sol commented. “You should give us a demonstration of your horseback skills one of these days.”

“I don’t mean to show off, but my instructor said I was a natural the first time I climbed unto a saddle.”

“I can imagine you had the best instructors in all of Europe.”

“Sort of. They were strict, but effective.”

La Muerte just concentrated on drinking her tea, pouring herself more cups and adding it a bit of sugar and milk, then continuing to drink. She hoped they would forget she was present, but unfortunately, Itzlacol tried to start a conversation with her.

“So, milady, I hope you and your child are feeling alright today.” He chirped.

“Gracias.” She said, rather indifferently.

“I suppose Xibalba doesn’t know about the baby, does he?”

Sol frowned. “He does not, and even if he eventually finds out I doubt he’d respond to my daughter for it.”

La Muerte glanced subtly at Osvaldo, and noticed his grip on the tea cup was tightening, but overall he gave a confused expression. “Excuse me, but who is this… Xibalba?”

“Oh believe me, your Excellency, you don’t want to hear about him.”

Osvaldo contained his urge to throw the contents of his cup at Sol’s face. He simply shrugged. “He doesn’t sound like a nice person. I heard he’s the father of La Muerte’s child, isn’t he?”

“He is.” La Muerte said curtly.

“I’m sorry for whatever he did to you, milady.”

“What matters is that she’s finally seen him in his true colors, and she is back home safe and sound.” King Sol sighed in relief, placing a shoulder on his daughter’s shoulder.

“My, La Muerte, I haven’t noticed, but that necklace does bring out the color of your eyes.” Itzlacol smiled, glancing at the goddess’s pendant.

“It belong to her mother, so naturally it does bring out her natural beauty.

La Muerte froze when Osvaldo made that comment. It worsened when she saw Sol turning to Osvaldo in confusion, and caught a glimpse of suspicion. Osvaldo mentally cursed himself, he had forgotten he was not Xibalba at that moment. Sol would suspect something was off.

“I don’t remember having mentioned anything about the necklace belonging to my wife…” he said, glancing at the Count. Heck, even Itzlacol was glancing suspiciously at him.

Fuck. How would he get out of this one…?

“I told him at the party.”

The three present gods turned to La Muerte as the sentence left her lips; she herself didn’t know why she had intervened when she would have let Xibalba find a way out of this by himself.

“When we went to the maze that night, we talked a bit and I mentioned it to him casually.” She finished the sentence. Thankfully for Osvaldo, Sol seemed to accept the answer.

“Anyway, let’s get down to business, with all due respect.” Itzlacol changed the subject, and spoke to Sol. “Majesty, I’d like for your permission to court La Muerte.”

Osvaldo technically choked on his tea and contained the urge to spit it out in shock; gulping the hot liquid urgently and covering his mouth to contain his coughs.

“Is something wrong, Excellency?” Sol asked in alarm, placing his cup down.

“I’m *cough* okay, Majesty…” Osvaldo cleared his throat. “It’s just that it’s a coincidence, I came with the same intention.”

La Muerte could not believe it.

“You wish to court my daughter as well?” Sol continued with his ‘interrogation’, apparently ignoring or not noticing La Muerte’s incredulous expression. “Now, that’s what I would call a coincidence.”

“Excuse me, Count, but I believe I asked in the first place.” Itzlacol frowned lightly.

Osvaldo returned the gesture. “I know that, Lord Itzlacol, but I believe La Muerte can choose who she wants to hang out with.”

“Excuse me, you two!” La Muerte growled softly as she abruptly threw her napkin on the table and stood up. “Do I look like a trophy or a prize to win? I’m not an object to be bickered over!”

Osvaldo intervened before Sol could say something. “Milady, it was not my intention to offend you. I meant to say that you have every right to make your own choice according to your criteria.”

She had to give him credit, Xibalba was being honest this time.

“I have a proposal, if you don’t mind.” King Sol lifted his hand to calm his daughter and guests before an argue broke out. “La Muerte could have a date with each of you, and she can get to know each of you better so it’ll be easier for her to choose.”

That was it.

“If you’ll excuse me, I don’t feel well right now.” La Muerte hissed, only glancing at her father. “I will be in my room.” She picked her blue rose and stormed away, her blood boiling and ignoring her father’s calls. Realizing it was futile, Sol turned to his guests.

“My apologies, I’ll talk to her, meanwhile you could wait here if you’d please.” The old god ran after his daughter. “La Muerte!”

Osvaldo sighed and rubbed his temples, while Itzlacol’s attention had been set on the purplish blue petals of the rose she carried away. It was… intriguing. It drew him in like a siren song, he had to obtain those roses somehow, but the Count didn’t want to part with them… Maybe if he found the right price...

Meanwhile, La Muerte muttered things under her breath as she headed back to her room, cursing both Xibalba and Itzlacol for fighting over her as if she were a mere trophy. Yet, she still held the blue rose in her hand and could not bring herself to even consider throwing it to the garbage. Before she could go into her room and lock herself in, her father caught up to her, panting.

“La Muerte, wait!” he cried out, panting and leaning against the wall to recover his breath. Damn it, he was not as young as before. “Mija, what’s wrong…?”

“Easier for me to choose?!” La Muerte snapped, crossing her arms. “What do you think this is?! A contest to win my affection?! I’m not a prize to be won, Father! I don’t need you to play matchmaker, I can find a good man on my own account!”

“I didn’t mean it like that, La Muerte. I was just suggesting you give them a chance. They’re both good men, perhaps one of them would make a good father for my grandchild-“

“That’s the problem! I don’t need a man to look after my baby, he doesn’t need a father! He has me, and that’s all the baby needs!”

“I understand, but just think about it. You know how fatherless children are treated among us.”

She didn’t need to be reminded. She had heard of goddesses who bore children either out of wedlock, or separated from the father. In either case, the children were considered bastards for not having a father to respond for them. It made her tremble, the thought of her child being cast aside for her father not responding; Xibalba was willing to, he wanted to, in fact, but she was the one reluctant to accept him back. She wasn’t certain if she wanted to expose her baby to that treatment. Perhaps going out on a date with Xibalba again wouldn’t be that bad, but it was Itzlacol that was worrying her.

But then again, she didn’t lose anything with giving them a chance.

If I wasn’t for her, it could be for her baby.

Reluctantly, La Muerte sighed with resignation. “Very well, Father. If you ask me, I will give them both a chance. But I’ll do it for my child.”

King Sol smiled. “I’m glad you understand, mija. I promise you, I won’t force you to make a decision, I’ll leave it all to you. But I agree with Itzlacol that since he was the first to ask, he should be your first date.”

La Muerte felt a small twist in her stomach at the thought. “If you insist…”

Chapter Text

La Muerte muttered under her breath as she continued to brush her hair, though frankly she wouldn’t care if she went looking a mess, it was Itzlacol she would have to go out with, after all. But alas, she was not going to leave her father in ridicule just because she did not like Itzlacol and was against the idea of going out with someone when she was still married. There would never be any possibility for any kind of divorce with Xibalba, both on his stubbornness and the Ancient Rules stating that once a marriage had been consummated it would never be broken.

Still, she tired her best not to leave any of her ‘provocative parts’ open for Itzlacol. She didn’t like using black much, but for this occasion she picked a formal, high-collared midnight black dress with empire waist skirt whose edge was adorned with silver and golden shiny beads, as well as white rhinestone crystals in the end of her sleeves. Her baby bump was starting to show, so she and her seamstresses adjust the area around the dress’s waist. For this occasion, she removed her mother’s medal, she did not want Itzlacol to see such a precious thing for her.

After a few finishing touches of lipstick and putting on a silver diamond necklace with a pair of matching earrings, La Muerte examined herself in the mirror. This was so much unlike her, but she would not give Itzlacol an opening. She wanted to let him know she was only doing this because her father asked her to, she had no interest in him at all. La Muerte stroked her baby bump tenderly.

“Ay bebé…” she sighed sadly. “Get ready for tonight, it’s not going to be pleasant…”

There was a knock on her door. “Your highness, Lord Itzlacol has arrived.”

Wonderful. “I’m coming.”

She opened the door, putting on a mask of formality as she walked down the hall and towards the throne room, where she found Itzlacol waiting for her, dressed in his best formal clothing, bearing that insufferable smile of his which drove her mad for no reason at all. Still, she tried not to look irritated as she approached her ‘suitor’, curtsying politely.

“Evening, Milord.”

“My dear, I think that by now we could stop being so formal with one another.” Itzlacol smiled, taking her hand and kissing the back of it. “You may call me Itzlacol.” He held out his hand for her to take. “Shall we go, La Muerte?”

La Muerte sighed and took his hand. “Let’s go, Itzlacol.” She felt uncomfortable in referring to him by name. Itzlacol led La Muerte down the grandiose and colorful foyer and out into the entrance courtyard, where a golden carriage, maybe the most beautiful she had ever seen, was waiting for them. Four white beautifully stocked horses would pull the carriage but La Muerte managed to see a bit of whip marks on their flanks, which gave her an insight on how Itzlacol treated his animals, which made her dislike him even further.

She had to give him credit, though, he acted like a true gentleman, helping her climb into the carriage, then going inside himself and taking a sear next to her. A bit too close for her liking. The coachman closed the door and climbed unto the driver’s seat, giving the horses a mild touch with the tip of the whip, motioning them to advance.

La Muerte subtly tried to shift away from Itzlacol when he tried to wrap an arm around her shoulders.

“So, where are we going?” she couldn’t help but ask, though knowing Itzlacol she knew the answer.

“Oh, it’s a very nice place in France. One of my acquaintances recommended it for romantic occasions.”

She had a feeling of what place he was talking about. “Oh, really?”

“Indeed, it is.” Itzlacol took a look at the attire his ‘date’ was wearing. “I must say, black suits you surprisingly well.”

“Gracias.”

“Though I can’t quite understand, why the sudden change in style, dear La Muerte?”

“Well… I thought maybe I should vary my style a bit.”

Itzlacol was disappointed that the type of dress she was using prevented him from seeing her breasts and curves, but he dissimulated his disappointment. “I do hope you will enjoy our time together as much as I will.”

La Muerte shivered in discomfort. “I guess so.”

Kelpies were interesting creatures.

Being classified as aquatic equine faeries, they were under Epona’s jurisdiction. Very few gods knew of this, however, and often thought Kelpies were simply creatures that swan around the Scottish lakes and rivers looking for prey. Epona’s Kelpies’ were surprisingly gentle, though, they were of the type who simply liked to give people the fright of their lives, unlike their more aggressive and malevolent cousins from Scandinavia, the Bäckahäst.

The reason Epona’s horses were so well-bred, good-proportioned and endurable was that most of them were of Kelpie descent, back when some Kelpie stallions mated with her finest mares, which resulted in thoroughbred foals, much better than any horse ever owned by a god. Medianoche was a clear example, his grandfather had been a Kelpie, and he was one of the finest stallions Epona had ever produced.

Xibalba had only seen a few of this creatures during his earlier encounters with Epona, but right now the Kelpies were the least of his problems and interest. Juarez watched in surprise as his master continued to clean out the dirty straw in Medianoche’s stall-a task which he usually left to the lizard- with the straw fork, muttering curses about Itzlacol, even going as far as to make small batches of straw and then stabbing them repeatedly imagining they were Itzlacol’s head. Even Medianoche was bit surprised at his owner’s behavior, and watched with raised ears amusingly.

“Oh, look at me! I’m Itzlacol and I’m very handsome and rich and popular with ladies!” Xibalba imitated Itzlacol’s voice in a mocking tone, again stabbing a pile of straw in annoyance. “As if! There’s more air than brain inside his redhead! I bet he can’t count past twenty without his fingers!”

Medianoche snorted in agreement.

“Besides, how come they don’t see his… attitude?! He’s arrogant, self-conceited and machista! At least I treat women with respect, don’t I?!”

“Indeed you do, My Lord…” Juarez said, thinking it wouldn’t be a good idea to contradict him right now.

“So how come they like him better than me?! I know I’m no saint, but at least I show respect when it’s due!”

“And don’t forget you have your charms.”

Xibalba jumped and let out a yelp of fright as he abruptly turned around and pointed the fork at the newcomer, finding Epona glancing at him with an amusing look. He frowned, dropping the fork to the ground. “One of these days you’re going to give me a heart attack!” he snapped.

“Come on, you’re not that old.” Epona chuckled.

“And don’t you know its rude to startle people from behind?”

“Curious, hermanito.” Zipacna walked into the stable, lifting his ears amusingly. “That’s exactly what you tend to do.”

“It’s not the same thing, I…!” damn, he had it on that one.

“Why are you so jealous of him? La Muerte doesn’t like him a bit, that’s noticeable.”

“I still can’t bear the thought of that hijo de perra near my wife! She’s mine!”

Epona gave him a small slap on the cheek to snap him out of it. “Don’t ever say that in front of her or you’ll give her another reason to be mad!”

“What?! It’s the truth! We’re going to have a baby, and that aprovechado is trying to rob them both from me!”

“You gave him the opening, you know.” Zipacna crossed his arms matter-of-factly. “When you drove La Muerte away.”

“Would you stop rubbing that in my face?! I know I messed it up, but I’m trying to make up for it!”

“That’s all what matters!” Epona continued, snapping his fingers and closing Xibalba’s lips shut momentarily with magic. “Remember what I told you of Kelpies?”

“Hm?!” Xibalba wanted to ask what the Kelpies had to do with anything, but his mouth was seared shut for the time being, so he simply crossed his arms, pouting.

“Kelpies have been known to fall in love with humans, not all of those stories end happily, but there are times that they do! You know why? Because Kelpies are willing to fight for what they want, but they have their limits! La Muerte still loves you, but she’s still hurt by the way you treated her, before you earn her forgiveness you have to earn her trust back first!” She snapped her fingers again, and Xibalba’s lips could move again.

“Why did you have to sear my mouth?!” Xibalba snapped, rubbing his lips. “I could have listened to you!”

“And interrupt me every five seconds.”

Zipacna tried his best to contain his giggles, but he couldn’t help but be amused at his brother’s embarrassment in the hands of Epona. Xibalba glared at him and snapped his fingers; Medianoche reacted and kicked Zipacna’s rear, sending him to the ground with a loud thud and a yell of pain and surprise. Epona started to laugh, while Xibalba smirked in satisfaction.

“owowow…” Zipacna rubbed his rear, looking up at his brother offended. “Xibalba, if you wanted me to stop, you just had to ask for it!”

“Anyway, you two, since you’re here, I need your help with something.”

“Does it have to do with your date with La Muerte?” Epona inquired.

“Sort of.” Xibalba sighed. “I mean, knowing Itzlacol he’ll probably take her to an expensive place and all that stuff. How can I compete with that?”

“With what La Muerte appreciates and holds in high regard.” Epona smiled mischievously. “Honesty and humbleness.”

La Muerte was very surprised when the carriage finally stopped, and when she was helped climb out she found they were at the feet of the Eiffel tower. Waves of memories returned to her as Itzlacol politely led her towards the elevator of Le Champs Elysees, the door keeper recognizing her and giving her and Itzlacol a proper vow, though he apparently found strange that she was in company of another god that was not her husband. Going through the elevator doors, and upwards, they came to the lobby of the restaurant, where a waiter was waiting for them.

“Ah, Monsieur Itzlacol, we are so honored to have you as our costumer. Please follow me, your table is ready.”

As they followed the waiter through the restaurant, La Muerte realized it was empty. All the other tables were perfectly set, the plates, cutlery and glasses in place as if waiting to be used, but they were empty. Finally the waiter led them to a table especially decorated with red tablecloth, roses and candles all around. Itzlacol had no expenses in planning this date, apparently. The waiter bowed and walked away.

“Where is everyone?” La Muerte finally asked, glancing around the other empty tables.

“It’s just us tonight, I reserved all the restaurant.” Itzlacol explained, as if proud he had enough money to reserve one of the most expensive restaurants for gods. “I thought it would be more…” he wrapped an arm around La Muerte’s waist. “…romantic like this.”

“Oh, it’s… nice on your part.” La Muerte shivered uncomfortably, but unfortunately he apparently mistook it for pleasure.

Itzlacol reached out to pull back the chair for her. “Here, have a seat.”

“Thank you.” La Muerte said, sitting down.

When Itzlacol sat down, a fairy waitress came to give them their menus. La Muerte tried to pretend she was reading to avoid looking at her ‘date’.

“My dear, if you don’t understand these dishes I can help you with the order.”

“You have come here before?”

“Yes, on some other occasions.”

Again, La Muerte lifted her menu to try and hide her face from view. “Under which circumstances?”

Itzlacol smiled. “It’s in the past. All that matters is now, the present.”

“Yeah, you’re right…”

After a few more minutes of awkward silence and Itzlacol attempting to start a conversation with La Muerte, the fairy waitress returned to take the orders, but before he could speak La Muerte ordered her own food in French, impeccably and with little mistakes. He had to admit he was impressed, though annoyed she had spoken first, but pushed the feeling aside, now was not the moment. “I see I’m not the only one who’s been here before… but I might be wrong.” He gave his order to the waitress, in French and impeccably as well, and then she fluttered away.

“Oh, I came here with…” La Muerte wasn’t sure if she should tell him.

“With?”

“Umm… with Xibalba.”

Itzlacol choked on his wine and let out a few coughs, before managing to regain his composure. “Xibalba brought you here?”

“He asked me out on a date and he brought me here…” La Muerte tried to sound as indifferent as she could. “…among other things.”

“Maldita sea…” Itzlacol cursed mentally, he had brought her to a place she would remember her husband. Still, he kept his cool and smiled. “Well, this time it was not him who brought you here.”

“I know, that time was… different.”

The fire god smirked and leaned in with a small seductive tone. “Indeed it was.”

“He was just so… gentle. I never imagine he could do as something as cruel as…” she didn’t want to remember it, even though Xibalba had already come to try and clear things up.”

“Yes, what Xibalba did is unforgivable. Tricking you like that and leaving you like this-“ Itzlacol froze when La Muerte looked at him with a small glare, and instantly knew he had screwed it up. He shivered in a bit of fear-something that had never happened with a woman-when she crossed her arms.

“What do you mean by that?” she hissed, narrowing her eyes.

“I mean, leaving you along to raise your baby… He could have at least…. Respect you in that matter.”

La Muerte had the feeling he was trying to hide the fact that he was disturbed of her pregnancy and that she had already been deflowered. Still, he was doing a good job concealing it. She decided to play along for the time being.

“I guess so. I think by now he could have learned it through the other gods, and he hasn’t even contacted me.”

Itzlacol wasn’t sure, but he thought he saw some… insecurity in her tone. “Really?” he inquired, raising an eyebrow. “Not even a letter? Nothing?”

“Nothing. Either he doesn’t care, or he has sent me something and Father threw it to the fireplace without my knowledge.”

He couldn’t shake the feeling that she was not being completely sincere as he took a sip from his wine. “If you say so.”

When the food finally arrived, La Muerte didn’t forget her manners as she technically devoured her food, her baby needed lots of nourishment right now. Itzlacol ate bit by bit, trying to look as much refined as Xibalba had probably being.

“Even if he did send something I don’t want to know anything else from him.” La Muerte continued speaking as she ate. “But I’m still thinking he does have fatherhood rights.”

Itzlacol couldn’t believe what he was hearing. “So you intend to tell him about the baby? Let him be part of its life and education? After all he’s done to you?”

“I’m not certain… I’m afraid he would give my child a bad influence…” she lowered her gaze, concentrating on eating her main course.

“Let’s just hope the baby won’t take after its father…”

An uncomfortable shiver. “Yeah.”

“Poor little one…”

“I’m glad that at least Father loves his grandchild despite Xibalba being its father.”

“And you…?”

La Muerte placed her fork and knife down to place her hands on her small baby bump, stroking it. She couldn’t help but smile. “I love my baby, I don’t care who her father is, she’s my baby.”

“The baby is quite lucky to have you as a mother, too bad it came at the wrong time and the wrong way-“

La Muerte’s smile vanished as she glared at Itzlacol once more. “Wrong time?”

“Well, are you ready for a baby? Did you want it, or did it come as a surprise?”

“I was a surprise, but I would never dread at the thought of a baby. I’ve always wanted to be a mother.”

“But to become a mother out of trickery?”

“Children are not to blame for their parents’ mistakes.”

“No, but…” Itzlacol sighed and decided to try and remind her of what Xibalba had done. “I’m sorry for whatever Xibalba did to you… It must have been horrible…”

La Muerte saw his intentions, however. “No, actually he didn’t force me to do anything.”

“What do you mean?” Itzlacol didn’t know where this was going as he lifted his gaze from his dessert. “Xibalba didn’t…?”

She shook her head. “He tricked me, but he did not force me too… Well…”

“You accepted it? He’s good at this if he managed to fool you..”

La Muerte stabbed her cake in a small fit of indignation. Was he implying she was a fool? Itzlacol nearly jumped at the action, and almost immediately apologized monotonously. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t worry.” La Muerte said through grit teeth, looking away.

“You seem to have much appetite. You’ve already finished dessert. Is the baby giving you cravings?”

“Certain cravings.”

“That can be solved. If there’s anything else you would like, or what does the baby want?”

“Usually I like sweet things, but for now I’d settle with something spicy.”

“Something spicy will be…” snapping his fingers, he made the fairy waitress come closer, and ordered her their spiciest dish in French with an authoritarian voice, the fairy felt a bit intimidated. When she left, he turned his attention to La Muerte once more. “Interesting cravings… The baby will likely be fond of sweet and spicy food.”

“I think so…” La Muerte placed her hands on her abdomen once again. “She may have her father’s sweet tooth.”

Itzlacol placed his wine glass down again. “I’m sorry… she?” he inquired.

“Oh, I have the feeling the baby’s going to be a girl. I’ve always wanted a niña, actually.”

“A little La Muerte, if she will take after you… “ Itzlacol rolled his eyes. “Though I think it’s important that the firstborn is a male, just to be assured.”

“A girl can be as capable.”

“But she isn’t as strong and brave as a boy is.”

La Muerte frowned. “She can be if you raise her to be so.”

“Yes. I must admit, you are the living proof, dear La Muerte.”

“Why don’t I feel complimented?” the goddess thought, wiping her lips with the red napkin.

“Anyway, I bet you will be a wonderful mother… For this baby and other future children, if there will be others, I mean.”

“Others?”

“Other babies. Or if you just want one…”

“Oh, no, I mean… I love children, but in my current situation I can’t think of it…” she started to eat the dish the fairy waitress had just brought, a spicy one.

“Of course. And now that we’re on it, how do you intend to divorce from Xibalba? Since you’re pregnant with…” he hissed the next words. “…his child.”

La Muerte took notice of his tone darkening. “I don’t know. It’s impossible as far as I know.”

“But you do want to divorce. If you wish it so badly everything is possible.”

“Ancient Rules can’t be broken nor altered.”

Itzlacol waved a dismissive hand. “If you really want something you sell your soul to the devil or cross some rules to get that thing…” he eyed La Muerte possessively, but failed to keep it subtle, making her shiver in discomfort.

“Excuse me?!” She had enough. She slammed her glass on the table, spilling some of the contents on the mantle.

“I’m sorry if I have no other way to say it, bit you must do everything possible to get what you want… Even you must have something that you want the most in this entire world. I don’t know what it is, but I’m certain you would cross your own principles to achieve it. With a little of ambition…” the gears in his head started to turn. “…Everything is possible.” There was one way La Muerte could be taken from Xibalba’s clutches. There were two ways to break a marriage, either through divorcing, or widowing…

It took La Muerte every once of self-control not to throw the wine of her cup into Itzlacol’s smug face. “Excuse me, but I do not agree. You don’t have to be dishonest to obtain something you want. I’m not willing to hurt anyone to achieve my goals.”

Itzlacol chuckled. “Maybe not… unless it is something… or someone that you love… or simply want to possess.”

La Muerte grew pale. She didn’t like where this conversation was going, she had to get out of here somehow, but she doubted he would let her leave just like that… she had to think of something. Itzlacol noticed her state. “La Muerte, are you okay? You look paler than usual…”

“I…” maybe her pregnancy could be of advantage right now. “I don’t feel well…” she took her hand to her forehead, pretending to be having a headache.

“We can go back if you want.”

“It would…” she stood up, and pretended to faint, allowing her body to fall over and having Itzlacol catch her.

“La Muerte!”

La Muerte woke up a few hours later, and found herself back in her room, her candles unlit. Apparently her ‘façade’ had turned out not to be as fake as she intended it to be. At least Itzlacol was gone. Sighing, La Muerte sat up in bed and lit her candles with a wave of her hand; just then a familiar smell caught her attention. Turning to her bedside table, she found a blue rose with a note just next to the vase where she had the previous ones Xibalba had given her. Had he been here?! How had he entered?! When?! Of course, he was Xibalba, he had his ‘methods’.

Curious about the note, she picked it along with the blue rose and unfolded it to read its content.

I hope it didn’t go as bad as I thought.

La Muerte couldn’t help but giggle. Really, Xibalba and his sense of humor. She lay back down on bed, again leaving the room half-dark with a wave of her hand, holding the blue rose close to her chest, its smell lulling her to sleep in a few minutes.

She didn’t see a shadow glancing at her tenderly from the window, then flaring out his wings and flying away under the cloak of the night.

Chapter Text

He walked into the room after hearing a baby cry coming from behind the door. He could not wait to meet his little one after so much time. La Muerte was in bed, smiling down and cuddling at a tiny bundle of blankets she held in her arms, before looking up at him with glossy eyes.

“Balby, there’s someone who wants to meet you…”

Xibalba walked closer to bed and sat down at the edge of bed as his beloved wife shifted the blankets to reveal the baby’s face. His eyes swelled up with tears of joy as he reached out to caress the little one’s cheek, and tiny fingers wrapped around his as the little one gurgled. Smiling, he gently took the little bundle of joy from his wife’s embrace, staring down at his child with fatherly pride. He was so happy…

He…

He woke up.

Xibalba reluctantly started to shift awoken from his wonderful dream, and found his baby was but a small pillow, much to his disappointment. He stared at the empty side of the bed sadly, wishing La Muerte were here with him, where he could hold her close, kiss her beautiful face and take care of her. He tried to go back to sleep, but there were just too many things in his head; sighing, he left bed and put on his bathrobe, then walked out of his bedchambers, and down the corridor to the next door, walking into the nursery. He hadn’t yet painted the walls, but he had accommodated most of the furniture, placing the rocking chair near the window, the changing table to a side, he hung up a few colorful portraits to decorate, along with some white drawers where all the baby clothing was kept, and the round bassinet cradle was in the middle.

Xibalba walked closer to the cradle to take a look. He chose to use pink decorating for it, in case the little one would be a girl, and thankfully he remembered enough of crafting to make a little gift for his child. A mobile with little animal plushies, a horse, a snake, a hummingbird and a butterfly, all intricately colored with bright colors. He stroked the little horse tenderly, and stared down at the cradle. He could already imagine a little baby girl or boy cuddled on it, sleeping peacefully or reaching out her tiny hands to the tiny plushies above her little head. He couldn’t help but smile a bit at the thought.

He wasn’t certain of what to do for his date with La Muerte. He was supposed to pick her up in a few more hours, but he didn’t know what he’d do. He considered taking her to a restaurant, but Itzlacol had gotten ahead with that idea. A stroll through the beach was another consideration, but he didn’t know if she could walk so much in her state. He didn’t know why it was so difficult to plan out a date with her now when he had done so with her months ago, maybe it was because of the circumstances. He wanted to show her he had changed, but he was afraid he would mess it up. Unconsciously his hand started fidgeting with La Muerte’s wedding band, still hanging around his neck. He remembered their first date, particularly when he took her to the clearing in the Spanish wilderness…

“Europe sure has the most beautiful landscapes.”

“And you haven’t seen Japan’s. Especially in Spring when the cherry blossoms mature and their flowers scatter around with the wind. It’s truly beautiful.”

Cherry blossoms…

A smile slowly crept on Xibalba’s lips as his gears started to turn.

Next morning, La Muerte awoke still holding the blue rose in her hands. Giving it another sniff, she sighed and placed it along the other two blue roses, now three. She couldn’t help it, those roses made her feel comforted, it was almost as if a motherly essence radiated off them; she recalled they were Selena’s roses, perhaps the knowledge was reason enough. La Muerte felt uncomfortable in the black dress, and stood up from bed, first removing her jewelry and then unzipping the dress off, heading towards her bathroom, where a warm bath was already waiting for her.

Sighing in relief, La Muerte stepped into the bathtub, and proceeded to take a long, warm bath, washing her hair and rubbing her body in relief, especially her abdomen, stroking her baby.

A few minutes later, she left the bathtub and dried herself with a towel. There was a knock on the door, and her ladies-in-waiting entered. La Muerte smiled at them in greeting. “Buenos días, chicas.”

The maidens bowed respectfully. “Buenos días, your highness.”

As one of the maidens helped La Muerte fix her hair and the other one went to the wardrobe to fetch an appropriate dress for today’s date, the one brushing the long dark hairs couldn’t help but ask. “And how was your date with Lord Itzlacol yesterday, princess?”

“It was…” La Muerte struggled to find an appropriate word. “…Interesting. He took me to a French restaurant my husband had taken me to before.”

“Oh, I guess he didn’t like the idea.”

“I could tell.” La Muerte glanced at the dresses the other servant was taking out of the wardrobe, most of them either red, salmon pink or champagne, but caught a glance of one particular dress. “Wait, Matilda… I will wear that one.”

The maid called Matilda held out a long, golden dress with intricate patterns, a dress she reserved for picnics or carriage rides. “This one?”

“Yes.”

“But your highness, today you’ll be going on a date with Count Osvaldo, shouldn’t you wear something more appropriate?”

“Believe me, I don’t think he’ll take me to a fancy restaurant like Itzlacol.” Knowing Xibalba, he’d probably take her somewhere more… original.

Matilda nodded. “As you wish, your highness.”

However, as the other lady-in-waiting grabbed a corset from one of the drawers, La Muerte stopped her. “No, no, it won’t be necessary.”

“But princess, you father insisted you wear it at least for today.”

“It could hurt the baby. I’d rather go natural, if father won’t mind. I doubt Osvaldo will mind, even.”

Nodding, the maid placed the corset back into the drawer, and proceeded to help the goddess get dressed. Soon, La Muerte was dressed up, all ready for the date, her hair tied into a long braid adorned with her two trademark marigolds adorning her head. She picked up her mother’s necklace from the boudoir and placed it around her neck once again. A few seconds later, there was another knock in the door.

“Princess, Count Osvaldo is waiting for you.”

La Muerte sighed. “Very well, tell him I’ll be going down shortly.”

The ladies-in-waiting bowed again and left the room, while La Muerte looked down at her abdomen and rubbed her stomach. “Well, bebé, let’s go back meet your papi.” For some reason, she didn’t feel so uncomfortable in referring to Xibalba as her child’s father anymore. Well, she better get this over with. La Muerte stood up and made her way towards the door, then out the hallway. It would have been easier if she teleported, but Toci said teleporting while pregnant was not recommended, so she’d have to walk everywhere for the next months. Not that she minded, though.

Once she was down at the throne room, Osvaldo was already waiting for her, coincidentally wearing clothing for an outdoor activity, only in black. Yup, she had guessed right. Again, her father was not present, or maybe he was watching from some hidden point in there to see how things went between the two. Apparently Osvaldo thought similarly, for he didn’t give any hints as to his true identity.

“Good morning, your highness.” He bowed chivalrously, planting a kiss on the back of her hand in politeness, and then he glanced up at her. “You look beautiful today.”

“Gracias.” She managed to smile, but it was not forced in any way. It surprised her.

“How are you feeling today? How’s your child, if I may know?”

“Oh, the little one’s okay…”

Still smiling, Osvaldo gestured towards the gates. “Shall we, milady?”

La Muerte walked down the hall, this time accompanied by the Count, and when they were outside, much to her surprise the carriage was very different from Itzlacol’s. It was a landau type of carriage, colored black with a little red but adorned with marigolds and roses, her favorite flowers. It was being pulled by two dapple-gray horses, which looked much happier than yesterday’s horses. The coachman waved amicably at her, and she found something familiar about him. La Muerte didn’t say anything as Osvaldo helped her into the carriage, and the coachman only needed a small click of his tongue to have the horses advance.

When the carriage was far enough from the castle; La Muerte couldn’t help but ask. “Where did you get this carriage and horses?”

“Epona insisted my old carriage was not suitable for such an occasion.” Osvaldo sighed. “And she lent me her two draft mares because if I had brought Medianoche it would look too suspicious to certain people.”

“Why?”

“Well, since I claimed him as mine he has plenty of my aura unto him, and your dear father is no fool.”

“Yeah, but how come you came with him the night of the ball and…?”

“Epona gave me a spell to hide both my aura and Medianoche’s, but it only lasts for a certain number of hours. That’s why I had to be careful.”

“Sure you had.”

La Muerte recalled she was angry at him, and shifted away in her seat. “Where are we going?”

“Oh, it’s very special place.” Osvaldo smiled. “I believe you’re going to like it very much.”

“Oh, really?” La Muerte looked away, rolling her eyes and trying to sound as indifferent as she could. “How long will it take to get there?”

“A few hours, but it’ll be worth it.”

Osvaldo tried to get closer to her, but she shifted away and tried to look at the landscape, anywhere but at him. It made him sad. He wished he could pull her closer into a hug, but she would not allow him to, it seemed. Hopefully, what he’d prepared would soften her up a bit.

La Muerte had fallen asleep on the way to their mysterious date, but she soon awoke by a warm breeze of summer. She opened her eyes, and they widened in surprise when she found saw a single mountain in the distance adorned with specks of snow, along with certain trees that she had never seen before. The sky was clear and the climate was sunny with a bit of wind, but all her attention was set on the beautiful, large trees which had pink flowers instead of green leaves, and petals falling and being blown by the breeze.

“You’re awake.”

La Muerte jumped; she had forgotten she was accompanied. “W-Where are we…?”

Osvaldo smiled. “Remember when I once said you should see the sakura trees in bloom?”

She couldn’t believe it. He had brought her all the way to Japan? Eventually, the carriage came to a stop just in front of a entrance to a small path leading somewhere. La Muerte was too amazed by the scenery to notice Osvaldo stepping out of the carriage on the side of the path. It wasn’t until she heard a cough that she finally turned to him, and saw he was holding out his hand for her to take. “Careful with the step.”

She frowned. “Thanks, I can climb out by myself.” She said curtly, stepping off the carriage by herself with a bit of difficulty. “I’m pregnant, not crippled.”

Osvaldo rolled his eyes, but chose not to say anything as he turned to the coachman. “Juarez, you may come after us in a few hours.”

Juarez?! La Muerte quickly turned to the coachman; that could not be Juarez, could it? Why did he look like a human?

“Sure, My Lord.” The coachman’s voice confirmed her suspicion. “I’ll try not to get eaten by an Oni on the way.” Juarez then drove the carriage away down the path.

“That as Juarez?” La Muerte couldn’t help but ask.

“Camouflaging spell. It’s temporary, but I can tell he doesn’t like it very much.” Osvaldo sighed. “Anyway, shall we go?” he smiled lightly and held out his hand.

“Let’s just get this over with.” La Muerte muttered, walking down the path without even bothering to look at him.

“Alright…” Osvaldo felt a little hurt by the barrier se had put around her. But nevertheless he walked after her to catch up with his wife. “This way.”

“Where are you taking me, by the way?”

“If I told you it would spoil the surprise, my dear. You’ll see, just a little farther.”

La Muerte frowned. “This better not be one of your nasty surprises.”

“Actually, I think you’ll like this one.”

“As if.”

Finally Osvaldo came to a stop. “Well, here we are… almost.”

La Muerte couldn’t contain another gasp at the beautiful scenery before her eyes. They were upon a great lake of crystalline waters, all surrounded by a forest of cherry blossoms whose petals scattered with the wind or fell into the purified waters. There was as an island in the middle of the lake, also with a cherry tree, only much larger than the rest, and whose petals blew on the breeze and fell on the lake’s water. La Muerte was amazed, but she tried not to show it. ”Wow, a lake, how intriguing.” She said, trying to sound as unexcited as she could. “What, we’re going to fish?”

“Not exactly.” Osvaldo pointed to the island. “That is out destination.”

“That… island? How are we going to get there? I don’t see any boat around here…”

“We don’t need one.” Osvaldo bent down and picked a small round stone, then threw it into the water, causing large ripples.

“What are you doing?”

“Shhh….” He shushed her. “You’ll see.”

La Muerte rolled her eyes, until she saw two shades moving from under the water. She jumped when out of sudden two heads emerged from beneath the lake’s surface; they looked like turtles with bird beaks and a small hole filled with water on top of her heads surrounded by green hair, which reminded her of a monk’s head. She immediately recognized these creatures.

“You attracted Kappas!” she tried to step back, but Osvaldo held her in place.

“Yeah, and they will be our way of transportation to the island.”

She relaxed a bit. “Them? How are they going to help us cross?”

“They swim and we stay on top of them.”

“W-What?!”

Much to her fright, Osvaldo stepped on top of one of the Kappa’s shell, and held out a hand to help her. “Easy breezy, come on. I won’t let you fall.”

Reluctantly, she took his hand and stepped unto the other Kappa’s shell, stiffening when the two yokai started to move, swimming forward towards the island at a slow pace and as close as possible to each other. La Muerte couldn’t help but hold unto Osvaldo, afraid of falling into the water, though the feeling of the water rushing at her feet was quite pleasant and she might even say refreshing. Finally, the Kappas stopped at the shore of the small island, and she was the first to step off the yokai, Osvaldo following soon after. The Kappas were looking up at Osvaldo expectantly, as if waiting for something.

“Kappas supposedly drown people, I never thought they were benevolent.” La Muerte commented, staring nervously at the Kappas. Why were they still there?

“Usually they aren’t… If you don’t reward them, that is.”

“Reward?”

Osvaldo took his hand into his pockets and took out something. About five cucumbers; almost immediately the Kappas’ eyes lit up, and caught the cucumbers as Osvaldo threw the vegetables to them, before disappearing into the depths of the lake once again.

“Cucumbers?”

“Everyone has their weakness.” Osvaldo chuckled. “I love desserts, they love cucumbers. It’s a kind of custom around here, people throw cucumbers in Kappa-infested rivers to appease them so they can bath without worrying about being eaten.”

La Muerte decided to change the subject. “So, what now?”

Osvaldo smiled as he took her hand and led her towards the tree. “This.”

There was a blanket beneath the tree, with a basket, flowers and a few candles around. La Muerte couldn’t contain a gasp of wonder. Damn it. “It’s… pretty.”

“I figured you’d like it. This is the time of the year when the cherry trees are in blossom.”

She was glancing at the falling petals. “I can see that…”

“I found this small island on my first trip to japan.” Osvaldo’s form shifted and he changed back into Xibalba, stretching out his wings in relief. “Much better! I was starting to get cramps.”

La Muerte rubbed her forearms uncomfortably when she recalled who she was with. “Really? You found this place?” she looked away to try and avoid seeing him.

Xibalba couldn’t’ help but smile in remembrance. “Sort of. Though the Kappas weren’t so friendly back then, Lord Izanagi had to save my butt.”

She took a tentative step away. “They tried to drown you?”

“Rather, they only warned me to stay away from their cucumbers. I tell you, they are obsessed with those vegetables.” He took La Muerte’s hand and led her towards the picnic, helping her sit down before sitting down himself, and he started to look into the basket. “You must be hungry from coming all the way here.” He took out fishes such as empanadas, tacos, a bit of pico de gallo, among cheese varieties from Europe, as well as a few slices of various desserts. Her mouth was watering at the sight.

“I thought you didn’t like Mexican food.” She commented upon noticing the type of dishes.

“I never said I didn’t like it, only that I like other types better than Mexican ones.”

“If you say so…” a glance at the empanadas was enough to awaken her appetite, and apparently her baby’s as well. “Are those empanadas?” What a silly question, of course they were.

“Made by Regina herself… most of them, at least.”

“Which are Regina’s?”

“I can’t really tell them apart…” Xibalba chuckled in embarrassment. “I kind of helped her as well.”

La Muerte glanced at the dark god amusingly. “Since when do you cook?”

“Since forever, actually, but only when I’m in the mood and have a good reason to.”

“A good reason?”

“Believe me or not, there are certain holidays when I want to give my servants some attention as well and I make dinner. Just to show my gratitude.”

“Curious.” She didn’t know if she should believe him or not. “I never saw you cooking.”

“I never did while you were in my castle, you deserved better cooked meals than mine.”

She decided to tease him about it a bit. “So I guess I’ll have to worry about food poisoning.”

Like she expected, Xibalba panicked. “No, no!” he hastily took an empanada and gave it a bite, nearly burning off his tongue, but nevertheless he swallowed it. The cheese and chorizo made a good combination, so he managed to ignore the sensation of burning in his throat. “See?” he managed to say before coughing a bit. “I wouldn’t put poison unto food, much less your food. You’re too precious for me…”

La Muerte winced a bit when out of sudden her back started to ache. Another symptom of the pregnancy, but unfortunately Xibalba noticed. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine…” La Muerte lied, but she shifted her shoulders painfully in an attempt to ease it a bit.

“A good massage would help, if you would allow me-“

“I’m okay!” but she had to bite down a cry of pain at another painful cramp in her spine.

“No, you’re not.” Almost immediately he shifted over to her side and rubbed his wife’s shoulder blades with his thumbs carefully, pressing into the knots.

“Don’t-!”

La Muerte relaxed when slowly the pain disappeared and gave in to pleasure, the knots disappearing, and her back relaxing. Surprisingly, her temper also relaxed when she felt Xibalba’s hands rubbing her back tenderly, easing the tension in her muscles. She felt him moving her braid out of the way so he could get a better look at where he was massaging her.

“See?” he whispered gently. “Would you prefer to stay with a sore back?”

“What are you…?” she stiffened when he started rubbing her knots again.

“I’m just trying to help you. Remember how you used to massage my back when I had one of my… crisis?”

“I do…”

“I’m just returning the favor, I guess…” He wasn’t at all… he wished he had removed his gloves so he could better feel her soft skin, remembering how he had stroked her cheeks and caressed her curves that night… “Feel better?”

“Sort of… thanks.” She shivered when she felt one last gentle, tender stroke on her back. As he went back to his place, La Muerte started to eat the empanadas in a rather hasty manner, as well as a few slices of cheese and a bit of cheesecake, attempting to ignore her companion as much as she could. Xibalba stared at her in surprise; he had never seen her eat in such an… unladylike manner, but he had to say he didn’t care about it. He subtly set his eyes on her abdomen, wondering if the little one was behind its mama eating so much.

“Say, did you start to have any cravings yet?”

La Muerte swallowed before replying. “Sort of.”

“Can I ask what m-your baby craves for?” he felt saddened that he couldn’t refer to the baby-their baby- as his, at least not yet.

“Sweet things right now.”

Xibalba chuckled as he watched La Muerte practically devour the slices of cheesecake she served herself. “I guess he or she will have a sweet tooth.”

“I hope not.”

“Why not? I mean… Life is supposed to be sweet, and if it isn’t we should make it sweet ourselves in different ways.”

La Muerte growled. “You talk much about sweetness when you’ve always been bitter about life in general.”

“Always?” he smiled and looked at her with all the kindness and sweetness in the world. “My life was bitter… now not so much. A few years ago I never even imagined I would be sitting here, under this tree, at this picnic, with you and… your baby.” As he spoke, his tone grew forlorn, and he looked down sadly. If only he hadn’t driven her away, the circumstances would be so different…

“Me either…” La Muerte temporally set her cake aside and looked away awkwardly.

“… La Muerte?”

“What?”

“I have something for you.”

“For me?”

Xibalba searched into the basket once again, but this time instead of food he took out a small black book tied with a black ribbon, accompanied by a blue rose. It looked like it only had a few pages. “For the both of you.”

“What is it?” when he held it out for her, she took the book and stared at it for a while. “What’s this?”

Xibalba nodded at it, motioning her to take a look inside. Her curiosity betrayed her as she untied the ribbon and placed the rose aside, opening the small book. There was a title written in the first page.

The Raven and the Dove

Curious, La Muerte flipped to the next page and found a surprisingly well-made drawing of a dark crow and a pure white dove, each perched on a withered branch on a different tree. There was something written just in the full moon.

Little did the Raven know

Just how far he’ll have to go.

Little knew the pure, white dove

What it means to be in love

Again she skipped to the next page, and this time the raven and the dove were on a worn down nest made of sticks and a bit of tar, and they seemed to be quarreling.

Or to whom they’ll have to give.

Or with whom they’ll have to live.

In the next page, the raven lay alone and sad on his nest, while the dove was on a different nest, much more colorful and pretty than the other. She too seemed to be weeping.

How much they’ll have to try

Or how much they’ll have to cry

The next page was surprisingly not as sad. The raven and the dove were both on the same perch, staring at each other lovingly with the full moon just behind them.

Only if the raven sees

And only if the dove gives.

The last page made her heart skip a beat. Both the raven and the dove were on a nest, apparently a mixture of the previous two, cuddling against each other while staring down lovingly at a tiny white egg with little black spots.

Only then their love could be

When from two, they become three.

She was…. Speechless. He had written this and drawn those pictures? What moved her was not only the fact that he had done it himself, but what he expressed in it. It was their story, the story of their… love. It took her a great effort not to shed tears of endearment at this beautiful piece of poetry. “X-Xibalba…. T-This is…”

He leaned in closer lightly. “Yes?”

La Muerte didn’t want to say it; it would give him a clue that the walls she had put around her heard was starting to crumble. “It’s…”

He got even closer. “Hmm?”

“It’s pretty, who wrote it?”

Xibalba was broken out of his daze when she made that question. He was hurt; she didn’t think he had done it himself? Or she was just trying to change the topic because it had the effect he hoped it would have on her? He hoped it was the latter. “My… self.” He couldn’t help but blush.

“You?” La Muerte glanced at him incredulously.

“Yes.”

“Since when were you the artistic type?”

“Since… Since….” He was reluctant to admit it.

“Since when?”

“Since I read Romeo and Juliet. Let’s say that… inspired me.”

La Muerte couldn’t believe it. “You read it? I thought you didn’t like romance novels. In fact, you made it very clear that time.”

“I didn’t know how much love I actually showed you…” he stared at her slightly-swollen abdomen tenderly, but she shifted away from him. “Please, don’t…” he reached out to touch her, only to retreat his hand when she stiffened. “I would never hurt you…”

“You already did.” La Muerte retorted curtly, looking away as the tears gathered in her eyes upon remembering that day again. She couldn’t forget it no matter how many times he said he was sorry and that he had lied to her. “Not with your hand, but with your words, and those kinds of wound don’t heal just like that like physical ones. You of all people should know it.”

Another stab at his heart. Yes, of course he knew what it felt like, he had that feeling all his life. All the pain, the sadness and bitterness that gripped at one’s heart and made them shut everyone out and away, trying to protect themselves from any further damage. He should have known better than to inflict that very thing he had suffered on the woman he loved.

“Yes, I know that…” he whispered, still staring at his wife’s abdomen, smiling lightly. “But…” he couldn’t help it any longer as the tears stared trickling down his cheeks. But he did not bother to try to hide them anymore as he looked down in regret. La Muerte caught a glance of him, and her heart tugged. She tried to ignore the feeling, but she couldn’t.

“Is there any way that you could listen to me… as you used to?” Xibalba recalled those evenings, those nights, those mornings where they would chat about simple things, sharing some desserts or snacks together, laughing, He remembered all those times she had tried to help him, some rebuffed due to his stupid pride, but others when he could finally let out all his sorrow and pain after centuries of bottling them up, her arms always open and that beautiful, compassionate smile on her face… he missed it.

“If you say you’ve changed, then show it.”

He lifted his teary gaze up to her, surprised. Had she…? He noticed she was no longer looking away from him, she was glancing at him with a serious expression, but he caught a glint of that beautiful compassion she had always shown. She was offering him another chance? He’d take it.

“I will, I’m willing to do whatever it takes so that you would led me be part of my child’s life… and one day, perhaps… Well, you know… you could give me another chance at love. I don’t care what I’ll have to do, just let me be there for him or her…”

Again, La Muerte’s heart tugged in deep compassion. The wall was now crumbling slowly as she shifted a bit closer to him and looked down at her abdomen. He looked so eager and hopeful about their baby… ”I think felt a kick.” She blurted out of sudden, placing her hands on her belly.

Xibalba stared at her abdomen, but he looked doubtful. “Isn’t it too soon?” But deep down he was hoping it was the game he thought she was playing.

“Maybe, but I think the baby moved a bit…”

“Maybe…”

La Muerte saw his hand, apparently unconsciously reaching out for a golden ring hanging on a thin silver chain around his neck, she almost immediately recognized it as he started to fidget with it. “Is that…?” she thought he had probably disposed of it, and judging by the embarrassed expression that followed soon after, she guessed right when she thought he didn’t notice what he was doing.

“Y-Yes…” he stuttered, blushing as he lowered his hand.

“You kept it? I figured you’d throw it away…”

“No… I couldn’t even if I wanted to…” He wasn’t certain if it was the right thing at the moment, but he unclasped the chain from around his neck and grabbed the wedding band, reaching out for La Muerte’s hand and placing it back on her palm. La Muerte stared at it for a while, but then caught a glance of Xibalba taking off his right glove, exposing his hand, and she wasn’t really surprised when she found a gold band still on his finger; there was a moment of awkward silence with only the blowing of the wind, until Xibalba lifted his gaze to her.

“Say, La Muerte… why did you cover me up in front of Sol?” he was staring lovingly at her.

“I don’t know…” La Muerte said, closing her hand on the wedding band and retreating her arm. “I just don’t want to tell my child it’s father was killed by its grandfather.”

“You could have let him catch me.”

“I could have… Maybe I should have, but… I don’t want you dead. It’s not in my nature to wish bad things on someone, no matter how wicked he is.”

Xibalba stared at her amusingly. “Very funny.” He took a look at their surroundings, and noticed it was getting dark. “It’s getting late.” Time flew by when you were immersed in a conversation.

“Are there any other Japanese monsters that like to prey on the dark? I mean, Kappas are one thing, but…”

“Nop. They aren’t the only ones, that’s why we should go.”

They put the rest of the food back into the basket, along with the folded up blanket, and La Muerte had the feeling they would not have the Kappa’s help to get back to mainland this time. Xibalba glanced at her. “La Muerte, may I…? I mean….”

She knew what he wanted to say. “It’s okay.”

Xibalba handed her over the basket to hold, and carefully picked her up bridal style. Then he flapped his wings and took off, flying away from the small island and towards the main path they had arrived to. Juarez was already there, waiting for them and apparently dozing off. As he landed just next to the carriage, Xibalba carefully placed his wife back down and changed back into Osvaldo. Again, he helped her up into the carriage, then climbed up to sit next to her, and Juarez made the carriage advance. La Muerte decided to try and strike up a conversation with the lizard.

“Hey, Juarez, what did you do while we were here?” she inquired.

“Believe me, milady, you don’t want to know.” Juarez muttered under his breath. “Damn spider…”

Xibalba chuckled. “What have I told you about talking with suspiciously pretty ladies on the road in Japan?” At least it hadn’t been an Oni.

La Muerte failed to contain a giggle. How she had missed these two.

Chapter Text

That night, Osvaldo returned to the Land of the Remembered at 8:00pm, at an adequate hour. He knew Sol probably took those kind of things into account, and he wanted to remain on his good graces. As soon as the carriage stopped in front of the stairs leading up to the entrance doors, Osvaldo was the first to get off so he could help La Muerte climb down, which she accepted, surprisingly this time. He accompanied her to the doors like a gentleman would do, and offered to open the door, but she held out her hand gently and opened the door slightly enough to enter.

“So, did you like it? I-I mean, the view… The date…” Osvaldo stuttered nervously, trying to calm himself down, but it was no use. She had this effect on him, and doubted he would ever grow out of it.

“It was beautiful…” La Muerte said gently, making her way towards the opened door. “Much better than the one with Itzlacol… Sincerely, it was much more enjoyable the time I went there with you…”

The little ray of hope in his heart grew brighter when she said those words. “Really?”

“Sort of. At least you didn’t book the whole place just to indirectly brag about how wealthy you are.”

“I am not that wealthy, you know.” Osvaldo blushed. “I have enough to live comfortably, but not enough for that kind of… feat.”

La Muerte couldn’t help but smile, tucking the blue rose and the small book in her arms. “Thanks for tonight… Osvaldo.”

Before he could say anything else, the goddess pressed her lips against his cheek, and went inside. Osvaldo just stayed there, frozen in utter surprise, still feeling the warmth of her lips on his cheek, lifting his fingers up to touch the spot marked by her lipstick. She had just…? She…. She… He calmly went back to the carriage, and ordered Juarez to advance.

But on the inside, he was yelling and dancing in happiness and joy, crying out mentally. “SHE KISSED ME! SHE KISSED ME! I’M THE HAPPIEST GOD ALIVE!”

Meanwhile, La Muerte was received by Aimé as soon as she entered the throne room. The younger goddess turned into marigold petals and rushed towards her sister, squealing in delight. “How did your date go?”

La Muerte motioned her to lower her voice. “Let’s go to my room.”

Both goddesses rushed towards the elder goddess’ room, and as soon as they were inside they closed the door. La Muerte led Aimé to bed and both side down, then she showed her the book and blue rose. “He took me to Japan.” La Muerte couldn’t contain the smile that drew across her lips. “It was beautiful, Amy… the sakura trees were in bloom, the petals were falling from the branches and blowing with the wind… I even got to see Kappas!”

“Kappas?” Aimé inquired. “I thought they were dangerous.”

“Turns out they like cucumbers very much, and do anything to get them.”

“This is beautiful, Muertita…” Aimé read the pieces of poetry and the drawings in the small book. “He must have worked hard on it. “

“He did…” La Muerte started fidgeting with her wedding ring with her fingers, staring forlornly at it. Aimé noticed it.

“Is that…?”

“Yes.”

“He kept it?”

“Around his neck. I think it was sweet on his part…” La Muerte froze when she spoke those words.

“So you’ve forgiven him?”

“N-No…! I…” She didn’t know what to think anymore. “I just need a bit of time to figure things out… I can’t just forget what he did to me.”

“But he has shown you he’s changed.”

“He has, but don’t forget it’s Xibalba we’re talking about.”

“Yes, I’ve heard he’s very good a trickery, but I don’t think he’s trying to trick you this time.”

“Me either…”

“Father said Itzlacol invited you to have breakfast tomorrow morning, but I figure you don’t want to see him.”

“I think I’d rather have tomorrow for myself… if Itzlacol and Father won’t mind.”

“Don’t worry, Muertita. With your state, we can say you need to rest a bit. After all, my little sobrinita needs some quality time with her mami, right?”

La Muerte giggled. “Gracias, Amy.”

Next morning, Aimé informed King Sol that La Muerte felt indisposed today, and would like to take the day to rest. Thankfully, Sol understood and sent the best massagists over to his daughter’s room so she could relax and have a good massage. After all, the better the mother was, the healthier the baby would be. Still, he was delighted when Itzlacol-and surprisingly, Count Osvaldo- still decided to pay a visit, and leave some gifts for her. Itzlacol delivered a beautiful flower arrangement adorned with crystals and diamonds, the best flowers in his garden, he assured. And again, much to Itzlacol and Sol’s surprise, Osvaldo simply left for her one of the famous blue roses which had captivated not only la Muerte, but Itzlacol as well.

“I thank you both for your gifts.” King Sol smiled, and signaled one of the maids to take the flower arrangement and the rose to his daughter’s room. “I’m certain they’ll be of La Muerte’s liking.”

“I sure hope so, your majesty.” Osvaldo said, bowing politely. “I must say, your daughter is truly an impressive woman. She has wits and spirit, something you won’t find in a woman these days.”

“Not to mention no other lady can hold a candle to her beauty and grace.” Itzlacol added, glancing at Osvaldo dryly.

“If you’ll excuse me, gentlemen, I must tend to some business right now. I’m sorry I didn’t prepare a proper receiving for you…”

“Oh, no, Your Majesty. Actually, I have certain matters to tend to as well.” Osvaldo said. “But please do tell La Muerte I’m glad she enjoyed our date yesterday.”

“I will, Excellency. Once more, thanks for your considerations.” Sol turned to Itzlacol. “Thank you for bringing such an extravagant present, Itzlacol. La Muerte loves flowers.”

Itzlacol nodded, smiling. “I’m certain she will like them.”

As King Sol headed towards one of the corridors that led to his study, Osvaldo and Itzlacol made their way to the stables, where their horses awaited. Itzlacol glanced at his rival, finding something… familiar about him in a way, but he couldn’t tell what. And those blue roses… those damn, beautiful and extremely rare roses… “I see you haven’t ran out of roses, your Excellency.”

Fuck. Osvaldo cursed mentally at the fire god. Why was he so obsessed with the roses, anyway?! “No, they are well kept.” He said calmly, not turning to see him. ”Don’t worry about them.”

“Forgive my insistence, but where did you acquire such… rare flowers? My personal gardeners have tried to make that combination naturally, but up to now all their experiments have failed.”

“I already told you before, they’ve been growing in my gardens ever since I can remember.”

Itzlacol could catch some dryness in the Count’s voice. “Interesting.”

“I see you are quite interested in my… roses.” Osvaldo retorted, rather bitterly.

“I admit, I do like to collect rare items from around the world, and your roses are quite a feat.”

“I didn’t now you liked gardening, My Lord. After all, you’re a god of fire, I simply can’t picture you planting flowers in a garden. But I guess your gardens hold some precious treasures as well.”

“Indeed they do.” Itzlacol smiled proudly, or smugly, as far as Osvaldo was concerned. “The most precious trees and flowers you can imagine, diamond fountains with crystal clear waters and all type of songbirds form around the world. But those blue roses…” his voice started to sound frustrated. “…have eluded me for a long time. I must congratulate you, I’ve been told it’s impossible to grow blue roses naturally. And yet your… family managed to do so.”

“Yes. That’s why I promised that they would always remain within the family-“Osvaldo shut his mouth in realization, and realized what he just said. “oh, god, why did I say that if I’ve been giving them to La Muerte?”

Itzlacol raised an eyebrow at the Count’s dismayed expression. “Oh, really? As far as I know, you’ve been giving La Muerte quite plenty of them. In that case, I see no problem in you parting with a few more.”

Osvaldo quickly regained his composure. “La Muerte is especial. She’s the princess, after all, and a beautiful flower like her deserves only the best.” Xibalba, snap out of it! If you tell him these things he’s going to suspect something!

“You seem like the poetic type, your Excellency. But I do agree with you in one thing. A woman like La Muerte deserves only the best presents one can offer.” Itzlacol decided to test the waters a bit. “I have noticed that you only give her those roses. I have never seen you bring any sort of jewel, or dresses, anything more than roses.”

“Well…” Osvaldo tired to think of something. “You are not the only one who likes these roses, La Muerte’s favorites flowers are roses and marigolds, she told me so yesterday. And besides… I give her what she represents to me…” He froze in dismay again. “Damn it, Xibalba! Why are you still talking to this… ARGH!!”

Itzlacol stopped when the Count leaned against the wall momentarily, and noticed he was nervous. Definitely there was something about this… gentleman that was familiar. If only he could get a bit of information out of him. “You know, you sound… familiar.” He said, bringing his hands behind his back. “Do forgive me if I sound rude, but you remind me of… someone.”

Oh, no. He was connecting the dots. “Who do I remind you of, if I may ask?”

“Oh, you may have heard of him.” Itzlacol circled around Osvaldo, thoughtful. “He rules the Land of the Forgotten and is not very… well-liked by most of the other gods. And unfortunately, he’s the father of La Muerte’s child.”

Osvaldo clenched his hands into fists, and did his best not to lash out at the showing-off bastard. “Act casual, don’t punch him, don’t be irrational, Xibalba. You’re smarter than him.” After a few seconds of reassuring himself, Osvaldo pretended to think for a while. “Well… I haven’t had the honor to meet this man. I wonder what La Muerte saw in him… By the way you describe him, he doesn’t seem… nice.”

“Oh, he is not! Have you not heard of Lord Xibalba? He is very cruel, everyone fears him, though he does have his… charms. That’s how he managed to trick La Muerte despite her famous intuition and wits.” He noticed the Count stiffening, and smirked a bit. “It would be better if you didn’t know him, he’d not very pleasant to be around with.”

Son of a-! Wait till I-! Like you were a pleasant company! That’s what he wanted to say. “I feel so bad for La Muerte, to be tricked by that… monster.” He said instead. He had to stay in character, after all, no matter how much he wanted to make a hole in the red head’s face. “

“Indeed”

You’re not a monster, Xibalba. He’s suspecting something and is trying to provoke you, don’t let this fool get the better of you.

Itzlacol shrugged. “Well, at least she’ll be free from him in a few more days.”

What? What did he mean? Osvaldo glanced subtly at him. “What do you mean?” Don’t show any interest or it’ll give him hints.

“Nothing at all, just a thought.” Itzlacol shrugged it off as if it was nothing.

“Alright….” He had to get out of here. “Well, My Lord, it was… pleasant to chat with you, but I must go check on my horse, he’s very high-spirited and I wouldn’t like those stable boys to cause an uproar.”

“He’s from Lady Epona, right?”

Osvaldo stopped in his tracks when Itzlacol mentioned Epona. Damn it, just how did this guy know where to hit the spot?! He was not as air-headed as he originally thought, apparently. Sorry, Epona, but I’ll have to lie about this. You can smack me for this later. “Unfortunately, I haven’t gotten such attentions from Lady Epona. I hardly know her.” He was starting to sweat. Damn it, it would let Itzlacol know he was lying. Maldita sea, it was much easier to lie before he met La Muerte, that woman would make him a saint soon!

Osvaldo smiled when he saw the signs that the Count was lying. “Oh, you don’t have to be subtle, your Excellency. I have seen her horses, I can tell the steeds she raises apart from the more common ones.”

“You’ve never seen my horse as far as I know, how would you know?”

“I was taking a look at King Sol’s stables when I arrived, and I caught a glimpse of it. I must say, your horse has an air of dignity and elegance you don’t find in normal horses. He’s a Friesian thoroughbred, right?”

“There might have been more there. You know, since La Muerte got so many horses as presents.”

“Ah, yes, indeed. I was one of the people who gifted her with a steed, but no one would ever think of giving her a black horse. It wouldn’t fit such a pure, beautiful, virtuous woman like her.”

Maldita sea! “Yes…” Osvaldo finally sighed in defeat. “That’s my horse alright.” And for your information, you’re not the only one who gave her a horse. “Now that I recall, La Muerte has a white mare in her stables as well. I can tell that is her most favored horse.” He smirked internally when Itzlacol grimaced a bit.

“It seems so. I could tell it was also bred by Epona, though I can’t tell if it was a gift from her or her husband. Though knowing her kindness, even if it had been from him, she wouldn’t take it out on other people, not even that animal.” The fire god smiled at the Count as they continued their way to the stables. “You are very fortunate, Lady Epona is not known for giving away her horses just like that.”

Osvaldo shrugged. “Well, you caught me. What can I say…?” soon the surroundings became more humble yet with an air of elegance and luxury as they finally made their way into the castle stables. “Well, here we are.”

Though not was majestic as Aztlan’s stables, the stables of King Sol were very elegant. The stalls were made out of the finest metal, painted in gold and black with a few red, and most horses inside were the skeletal type, except for those used by the gods, which were larger and looked like living horses. Stable hands ran around pouring water and hay into the stalls to feed the horses. Itzlacol caught sight of the Count’s horse; such a fine animal he was, elegant proportions, high-spirited, and apparently he had good stamina and endurance as well. Of course, Epona’s horses were the best of all the world, but all his attempts to buy one from her ended in failure. If only he could get his hands on that horse. Medianoche felt the avaricious eyes on him, and snorted, stomping his hoof nervously, there was something about that guy that freaked him out. Osvaldo headed over to his horse.

“Hush, Medianoche…” he shushed the animal, stroking his head. “That’s just a friend, Itzlacol…” A friend that I’d like to see dead.

Medianoche…. That name rang a bell… He had heard something from other gods. It struck him. “Medianoche? My, what a coincidence!” Itzlacol laughed. “Xibalba’s horse is named just like that, or so I’ve heard!”

Osvaldo froze for the third time that day. MALDITA SEA! At this pace he’s going to discover me in less than five minutes! Medianoche had to snap him out of it with a snort. “Oh, really? What a coincidence, indeed.”

Itzlacol noted the mood change in Osvaldo. “Who knows? It’s a rumor, I might as well be wrong.” He walked closer and took a closer look at Medianoche. “But I’m serious, your horse is exceptional.”

“Thank you.” Osvaldo couldn’t contain himself and technically spat those words. Itzlacol continued to smile, however.

“I beg your pardon, but however did you manage to get Epona to give you that horse? He looks like a fine specimen, I suppose she was be reluctant to part with it.”

“I still wonder the same thing, I was as surprised as you are.” You wish, red head. ”I guess she knew I would take good care of him.”

“I have tried to buy a horse from her countless times, but up to now she has refused all my offers.” He approached the stall where his horse-a reddish brown stallion with white socks, streak on its head and black mane and tail-was. The animal snorted and flattened his ears, as if frightened of his master’s very presence. Osvaldo noticed.

My, I wonder why’s that. “Your horse is magnificent as well.” He commented, taking a good look at the steed. “I guess you had to search far and wide for him.”

“Heck, I did!” he patted the horse’s head, but it trembled slightly. “Thoroughbred Arabian, from the stables of the Sultan himself. I must say, though, he has quite the temper sometimes.”

Osvaldo only needed a look at the horse’s expression to see why, though. The poor thing was terrified of Itzlacol! “May I?” he inquired, glancing at the horse.

“Of course, if you’ll let me stroke your steed.”

“Very well, you I must warn you, he doesn’t like strangers.” Osvaldo glanced back at Medianoche. “You know what to do.” Medianoche snorted in reply.

Itzlacol approached the Friesian without a care in the world, and caught his attention. Medianoche snorted, flattening his ears when the god reached out a hand to touch him.

“Be careful.” Osvaldo warned him when he noticed the look on Medianoche’s face, but on the inside was expectant of what would happen.

As soon as Itzlacol’s hand was near Medianoche’s nose, the stallion let out an angry neigh and dug his teeth into Itzlacol’s hand.

“OW!” Itzlacol retreated his bitten hand and gripped it on his other hand, glancing at the bite marks, and contained his urge to curse the animal for daring to bite him.

“Medianoche!” Osvaldo stomped his way to Medianoche and glared at him, before glancing at Itzlacol. “I’m very sorry, he’s usually not like this!”

Itzlacol was shaking his hand, muttering. “He does have quite the bite!”

“I tried to warn you. Horses don’t like to be touched unless you make them feel safe.” Osvaldo headed over to Itzlacol’s horse.

“Don’t worry, Excellency. Perhaps I put him nervous in some way.” Once he was done tending to his hand, he noticed the Count was heading to his horse’s stall. “Be careful with that one. He loses his head at times.”

Osvaldo ignored him and kept approaching. The stallion snorted and flattened his ears, like Medianoche, but there was genuine fear in this horse’s behavior. He guessed it was not used to good treatment. “Easy boy… Easy... I’m not going to hurt you.” As he reached out to pat his neck, the horse stepped back, snorting and giving nervous neighs. Yes, the poor thing didn’t have a good life. “Shh, it’s okay.” He searched in the pocked of his pants and took out a few sugar cubes, holding them out for the horse. “Here, do you want some? You can have them.” The horse started to come out of his shell and reached out to eat the sugar cubes from his palm. He gave it a few pats on the neck, speaking reassuring words.

Itzlacol could not believe it. His horse had responded positively to a complete stranger, while he often had to whip it into obedience everytime he tried to even ride him. Osvaldo noticed this, and decided to rub it into his face… subtly, of course.

“See? It’s not that hard.”

“I must admit I’m intrigued.” Itzlacol said simply.

Osvaldo glanced at him. “Intrigued? You simply have to get to know your horse.” He patted the Arabian stallion’s nose gently, and it snorted in delight. “Medianoche hates to be touched on the nose, but yours seems to adore it.”

The Friesian hates to be touched on the nose?! He new that and didn’t tell him?! Itzlacol coughed. “I don’t mean to sound rude, but that information would have been useful a few minutes ago.” He said calmly, rubbing his still sore hand, though in reality he fumed with ire.

Osvaldo glared at Medianoche. “Don’t worry, a horse bite won’t kill you.”

“No, but it does hurt!”

Medianoche heard his master’s voice in his head. “Good boy, Medianoche. I’m going to give you a tasty reward later.” The horse snorted.

Itzlacol managed to calm down as he stared at Medianoche. “Regardless of its temper, your horse is remarkable, Excellency.”

“Maybe, but he is as stubborn as a mule…” Osvaldo walked to Medianoche’s stall and patted his neck. “Boy, how about we go stretch your legs a bit? What do you say, the same road as yesterday?” Knowing Itzlacol, he’d probably try to obtain his horse in a way or another. Thankfully, his avarice would be the end of him. No one had ever beaten Lord Xibalba on a race, after all.

Itzlacol kept staring at Medianoche. High-spirited, endurable, fast, beautiful… He had to get his hands on that horse, definitely. It would be a good addition to his stables, and he’d get to get back at it for biting his hand. “Sounds intriguing, your Excellency.”

Osvaldo glanced at him. “Excuse me?”

“How about we make things interesting with a little wager?”

“A wager? What kind of wager?”

Good. He had caught his interest. “You know, there are races in Arabia in which each rider puts his own steed as a leverage. The winner wins the mounts of all his opponents.”

“Alright… And what does it have to do with the wager?”

“I was thinking we could make a small bet on our horses. The winner takes the loser’s steed.”

Yes! He fell for it! Osvaldo glanced at Medianoche. “Well… and how about we make things more interesting?”

“More interesting, you say?”

“The loser not only loses his horse, also… he is not allowed to talk or communicate with La Muerte for 10 days.” He smirked internally at the look in Itzlacol’s face. “Soo…”

Itzlacol chuckled. “Is this an attempt to delay the inevitable?”

“And what would that be?”

“Me winning her heart, of course.”

“We’ll see about it.” Osvaldo smirked. “I accept the wager, but only if we add my stakes as well.” You’re in for the humiliation of your life, pal.

“Very well, then. I accept you terms.” Itzlacol stretched out his (good) hand. “By the Ancient Rules…”

Osvaldo shook it. “…The wager is set.”

“Shall we saddle up, then?”

Both gods led the horses out of the stalls, but Itzlacol ordered the stable hands to saddle his horse up, while Osvaldo saddled his himself. As he was adjusting the bridle, Osvaldo whispered into his horse’s ear. “Let’s beat the ginger head.” Medianoche snorted in agreement. A few minutes later, both horses were ready, and Osvaldo noticed Itzlacol’s bitten hand was getting in the way when he tried to grab the reins of his steed. “My Lord, you seem to have problems with your horse.”

“Not at all, Excellency.”

“You know, I feel generous today. I will let you choose where the race will take place.”

Itzlacol glanced to his opponent in surprise. However, it turned into an evil smile when he thought of a place where he could have the terrain advantage; Osvaldo had made it difficult for him to even grab the reins with his bitten hand, so they would be even in making it difficult for the other to win. “Very well, in that case…. Is your horse used to sand?”

Osvaldo’s confidence started to recede. “More or less… why?”

Itzlacol’s smile grew wider. “I know just the perfect place for our little competition.”

“Go on.”

“Have you been to the Namibia desert?”

“… No. I haven’t, actually.” Osvaldo glanced at his horse, who had the exact thought in his head. “Okay, Medianoche…. We might have a little problem. Me and my gratitude, dammit. Though I could kill him there, nobody will find him, anyway. Don’t you think, Middy?” Medianoche snorted in annoyance and dismay. His master and his antics.

“Let me guess…” Osvaldo continued. “The race will take place in the Namibian desert? Well, your horse it’s Arabian, it’s used to sandy terrain…”

“Sort of, though I haven’t gone to a desert lately, so it might have lost his touch… Who knows? In a desert, anything may happen.”

Osvaldo sighed in dismay. “Indeed.”

The Namibia desert was considered one of the most desolate habitatas on the face of the earth by both humans and gods alike. There were but three oasis in that scorching sea of sand, and little to no plants at all, not even dead bushes to remind trespassers that the desert showed no mercy to anyone that came unprepared. If you got lost in that endless landscape of dunes, you were doomed to a slow death by dehydration or starvation, what happened first. Whatever few animals managed to live here were renown survivors, most of them reptiles and little mammals, as well as a few birds that fed on the remains of the doomed.

Osvaldo was starting to regret giving Itzlacol the choice of where the race would take place. He instantly knew he’d have the terrain disadvantage, Medianoche was not used to sandy terrain, and he either, frankly. Itzlacol knew it. He was glad that at least the path was marked, and he managed to summon a cloak for this climate. The starting point would be some canyons in the middle of the desert, from here they would make their way through the sea of dunes, and the finish line would be the Kunene river, one of the only three lush areas where water could be found that divided Namibia between Angola so that the horses could drink some water.

“So, Your Excellency, shall we start?” Itzlacol inquired, patting his horse’s neck.

Osvaldo finished adjusting Medianoche’s harness, and glanced at his rival. “Why the rush, My Lord? It’s the Namibia desert, one mistake can cost our lives in this place.

“I see you’re wary. That’s good, considering the harsh landscape of this place, and the unpredictable circumstances we’re facing.”

“Yes. Indeed.”

Both gods climbed unto their horses, and Osvaldo caught glimpse of spurs in Osvaldo’s leather boots. He shifted uncomfortably in the saddle and tightened his hold on Medianoche’s reins; what if he lost? He’d lose one of his oldest friends, and he’d be at the mercy of this cruel god. No! Now was not the time for pessimism, he had to stay positive.

Ready.

Set…

Both riders spurred their horses into a gallop-Osvaldo using a firm but not too strong kick at the sides, while Itzlacol dug his spurs into his steed’s flesh almost to the point of making it bleed-and the animals through the canyon like devils, struggling to keep ahead of the other, their hooves pounding on the stone and echoing through the dry valley. Both Osvaldo and Itzlacol were head-to-head, however, both horses were equally good. However, Osvaldo knew his horse like the palm of his hand, and on some parts of the trail he’d trust Medianoche’s judgement enough to let him go along on his own. He caught glimpses of Itzlacol whipping his horse’s rear with a riding whip, and dig the spurs into its sides, making it give neighs of pain.

When Itzlacol realized Osvaldo was getting ahead of him, he realized he had to do something. Seeing the path broke into a two-side cross-road, he led his stallion across Osvaldo’s path, forcing the Count to pull the reins to slow down and avoid crashing into him, and made his stallion buck dust into the friesian’s eyes. Medianoche neighed loudly as he shook his head and reared up in fright. Hopefully he could knock the Count off the horse, but he didn’t bother to stay and see if it happened, he simply urged his horse to gallop faster as he galloped down

“Medianoche, Soo!” Osvaldo pulled the reins with all his might until he managed to calm his horse down, patting his neck reassuringly. “Shh, it’s okay, my boy.” Realizing they had lost precious time, Osvaldo quickly kicked Medianoche into a gallop once more, but towards the other way. Seeing a staircase-like rock formation that led into the upper part of the canyon, Osvaldo turned rightwards towards it. Medianoche jumped up the rock formation impeccably without a single trip, and was soon galloping across the rock of the upper canyon, trusting his master’s judgement. Osvaldo caught a glimpse of the sea of dunes ahead, and snapped the reins, urging Medianoche to go faster.

Itzlacol smirked in satisfaction when he looked back and didn’t find his rival, certain he had lost Osvaldo, but as he emerged into the sea of dunes, suddenly a black steed jumped from the atop the rock formations and landed on top of the sand on its hooves and continued to gallop without a single scratch. How in tarnation-?!

Osvaldo glanced back at him tauntingly. “What’s wrong, Itzlacol? I thought you didn’t like being on second place!”

The fire god growled through grit teeth. “We’ll see who’s in second place.” Itzlacol again spurred his horse to go faster; thankfully he’d have the advantage on sand.

Medianoche felt his hooves slippery on the sand and had difficulty at galloping at full speed through the dunes, he often slipped down when galloping down the dunes, but thankfully managed to remain on his footing. Itzlacol’s steed, on the other hand, had apparently no problem in traversing through the slippery sand.

Then both horses sensed it.

Osvaldo was caught off guard when Medianoche momentarily reared a bit, and seemed upset for some reason, but he managed to make him continue. He was about to ask him what was wrong when suddenly he felt the wind blowing stronger than before, carrying some dust and sand into his face. Managing to look ahead, his eyes widened when he saw a gargantuan cloud of whirling sand approaching from the horizon.

A sandstorm.

Maldita sea!

“Get ready, Medianoche!” Osvaldo called out, pulling up his hood and covering half his face up to his nose with the cloak’s scarf. “This is going to be the heck of a ride!”

The sandstorm struck. Medianoche and Itzlacol’s horse were momentarily spooked, but nevertheless they continued to gallop. But Medianoche’s eyelashes were too thin to protect his eyes from too much sand compared to Itzlacol’s Arabian stallion, much more adapted to these extreme conditions. Medianoche was soon shaking his head, blinking rapidly and neighing loudly as he tried to get the sand out of his eyes. Osvaldo knew he was in trouble when his horse started bolting, panicking and snorting.

Itzlacol was satisfied when his rival’s horse apparently lost control in the storm, but soon the sand entered his eyes as well and he had to close them shoot, his bitten hand letting go of the reins and lifting them to wipe his eyes and block any further sand.

The Arabian stallion saw the friendly god and his dark mount were in trouble. If his master won that black stallion would suffer the same abuses as him, and he could tell the rider clad in black was very close to the black horse. If The black rider won he could finally be free of his cruel master, and start over again. Taking advantage that his master was blind and had no idea of what was going on, the red stallion cantered towards Medianoche and neighed to call his attention. Medianoche lifted his ears and managed to catch a glimpse of his rival; the stallion motioned him to follow him and trotted through the storm. Osvaldo saw what was going on, and seeing no other choice, motioned Medianoche to go after him “Follow him, boy! I don’t think he has bad intentions!”

Despite his hesitance, Medianoche did as told and followed the stallion. Itzlacol managed to regain his sight, and with squinted eyes spurred his horse to go faster despite the weather. He didn’t see Osvaldo getting ahead of him once again in the direction the red horse had pointed them to. Osvaldo caught a glimpse of a oasis in the distance.

The Kunene River.

“Go, Medianoche!”

Itzlacol panicked when he heard the Count’s voice, and heard the hooves pounding against the sand, then on firm ground. In desperation, he whipped his horse’s rear with all his might, but the horse had enough of mistreatment and out of sudden reared up, frightened, nearly knocking his rider off the saddle.

“Stupid beast! Hurry up, I want that horse!” Itzlacol snapped at the animal, whipping and spurring it mercilessly.

Osvaldo crossed the finish line when Medianoche’s hooves touched the waters of the river. Panting heavily, he pulled down his hood and scarf, sweating heavily, and patting his horse’s neck, his glove moistening because of the sweat on the stallion’s neck, listening to Medianoche’s heavy breaths as he himself recovered his breath. “Well done, chico….”

As Osvaldo dismounted and allowed his horse to drink from the refreshing river, Itzlacol approached by foot, dragging his horse by the reins. His hair was a mess, and his clothing was all dirty with sand. Osvaldo didn’t need to ask what had happened.

“Lord Itzlacol, are you alright?” he asked, glancing at the fire god upside down.

“Ah, yes, Excellency, just a little… shaken by that sandstorm.” Itzlacol said, barely managing to contain his anger, keeping a calm expression. “But congratulations on your…. Victory.”

On your face, ginger head! “Thank you, My Lord. And I believe we had an agreement by the Ancient Rules.”

“Indeed.” Itzlacol released the reins of the horse. “As in accordance to our agreement, this Arabian stallion is yours.”

“It was a good race.”

“Indeed it was. I hope you will excuse me, but I have matters to attend to.”

Osvaldo nodded. “I understand.”

After Itzlacol disappeared in a burst of fire, the red stallion walked closer to his new matter and nuzzled against his shoulder. Osvaldo chuckled and patted the animal’s head gently.

“Well, chico, how about you and Medianoche take a good bath before we take you to your new home?”

Chapter Text

 And now these walls come crumbling down

And I can feel my feet on the ground

Can we carry this love that we share

Into the open air?

When Epona received a letter from Xibalba stating he had won a horse from Itzlacol, she hastily teleported to his castle, and headed towards the stable to take a look at the horse. Arabian stallion with red coat and white socks. Juarez was taking a look at the spur marks on his sides, while Xibalba was brushing it, speaking soothing words as he did so. Epona noticed Medianoche was inside his stall, and apparently he was a bit jealous, but tried his best not to show it. She saw the red stallion had a slightly humid coat, probably he just received a good, refreshing bath.

“Now who is the newbie we have here?” Epona chimed in delight.

“Well, apparently Itzlacol didn’t bother to name him, so I took the liberty to name him Nezmal.” Xibalba said, patting the horse’s neck lightly. “Isn’t that right, Nezmal?” he chuckled when he got as snort of delight as a reply. He had learned Nezmal’s favorite spots to be stroked where his neck and his head, but he hated to be touched in the flank and sides, though it didn’t have the aggressive temper Itzlacol claimed.

“He’s beautiful.” Epona sighed, running a hand down Nezmal’s neck in delight. But she could see still some fear in his eyes. “I can’t imagine what the poor thing went through.”

“At least I got to piss Itzlacol off.” Xibalba chuckled, sounding more excited than… usual. “You should have seen his face!”

“You seem to be in a pretty good mood.”

“Why wouldn’t I? I rubbed my superior skills in Itzlacol’s face, and now he’ll have to stay away from La Muerte for ten days! That’s more than enough time to win her heart!”

“And what are you planning to do now?”

“Well, now that you mention it, I haven’t thought of it…”

Medianoche snorted and started nibbling at the latch of his stall door, it wasn’t hard to guess what he wanted. Epona opened the stall door with a wave of her hand, and Medianoche walked out towards the salt rock located just at the stable entrance. Xibalba chuckled, before glancing at Epona. “So, what do you think of Nezmal?”

“He’s truly a beautiful specimen…” she whispered, and looked into the stallion’s eyes. “The poor thing has suffered a lot…”

“Think you can fix him?”

“Don’t just say fixing like we were talking about a table! He’ll need months of rehabilitation to be back to normal, he’s going to need lots of company from other horses.”

Xibalba glanced down at Juarez. “How do you see those marks?”

“Well, My Lord, they’re not that deep, but they’re very painful for the horse. These probably bled a few times, and they were not properly treated.”

Xibalba patted Nezmal’s neck. “How about you go make some new friends for a while?”

But as Epona grabbed Nezmal’s bridle and started to lead him away, the horse snorted and moved his head away from her hold, turning around and going back to Xibalba’s side. She stared at him in surprise, though she had the feeling Nezmal didn’t want to be taken to another strange environment so soon. Xibalba patted Nezmal’s head.

“Looks like he only trusts you for the time being.” Epona commented. “I think you should keep him for a few days, and then you can take him to my realm when he feels more confident.”

“Sounds good.” Xibalba glanced at Medianoche licking the salt rock, and thought of something. “Here, boy. How about you taste the salt rock? It’s very tasty.” He led Nezmal towards the rock, and let him watch Medianoche licking the rock. “See? Middy likes it, want to taste it?”

Juarez approached the salt rock, looking up at his master. “Allow me, My Lord.” He kneeled down and start to lick on the rock, showing Nezmal it was safe to lick it. Curious, Nezmal bent down his neck and took a lick at the rock. He liked the taste, and was soon licking the salt rock happily.

“Hermanito, I think Juarez is starting to think he is a horse for spending so much time with yours.”

Xibalba and Epona rolled their eyes when Zipacna entered the stable, snickering and staring down at Juarez amusingly. Juarez stood up and looked up at the god, offended. “For your information, Lord Zipacna, Nezmal had never tasted a salt rock before, I was showing him it’s safe to taste, and Medianoche indirectly helped.”

“Nezmal? Is that how you named him?” Zipacna took a look at the stallion. “Epona, I must admit, when you said Xibalba had a new horse I never thought he actually won it from Itzlacol.”

Xibalba glanced at Epona. “Wait a second, you told him about Nezmal?”

“Well, we’ve been writing to each other, so I thought it wouldn’t do bad that he came to see a horse for the first time in his life.”

Zipacna blushed. “Hey! I said I had never ridden a horse, not that I had never seen one!”

“Hey, hey, hey! You two…” Xibalba shifted his glance between Zipacna and Epona. “You two have been writing to each other? Without telling me?”

“Come on, Xibalba! It’s not like it’s a capital crime to exchange words on paper with a friend, is it?” Zipacna shrugged, laughing nervously.

Xibalba crossed his arms, narrowing his eyes at the pair. “Can I at least know what you two talk about behind my back?”

“And I think this is not my business.” Juarez muttered, walking away to clean out the stalls.

Epona quickly changed the subject. “Anyway, Xibalba, you said you haven’t thought of something for your next date with La Muerte.”

Smart. “I’m running out of ideas.” He sighed. “I want them to be special, but I’ still afraid I’ll mess it up.”

“You said she kissed your cheek. That’s a good sign.”

“Exactly. And I don’t want to ruin it!”

Zipacna thought for a moment. He recalled there was a celebration in Asia that perhaps La Muerte would like. “Hey, hermanito, have you ever heart of the holi color festival?”

When she went down to have breakfast that morning, La Muerte was surprised when she didn’t see any signs of Itzlacol’s presence. She was glad, she was not in the mood to deal with him right now, her mood swings had started to kick in again these days due to her conflicting emotions. She tried her best to remain calm in front of the servants and the families who often came to wish her a good pregnancy, she had never liked to take out her frustration on her subjects. Her appetite had been growing too, considering she had to eat for two right now, and the chefs did their best to make the dishes she wanted and how she wanted them. Today, the baby demanded scrambled eggs, pancakes and fruit juice. Despite all her newly-found need to eat, La Muerte still ate calmly and slowly. She had to be careful with the nausea as well. She was two months into the pregnancy, and her bladder was already giving her signs that her womb was growing, her need to go to the bathroom had augmented threefold since last week.

“Any news from Itzlacol?” she casually asked her father, taking a drink from her orange juice.

“Lord Itzlacol informed that he will be tending to some business the next ten days, he won’t be able to visit you.” King Sol replied as one of the maids served him more coffee, he smiled. “Why do you ask? Any sort of interest?”

“N-no!” La Muerte quickly said, looking down at her meal. “I just found it weird that he hadn’t arrived with a cart of jewels or a giant flower decoration.”

Aimé decided to change the subject. “And what about Count Osvaldo? Any word from him?”

“Oh, as a matter of fact, he sent a letter this morning!” King Sol said, cutting his waffles, then glancing at La Muerte. “He’s inviting you to a festivity in Spain, he will pick you up at ten o’ clock.”

Oddly, La Muerte didn’t feel bothered anymore that Xibalba continued to insist in seeing her. In fact, the voice in her head that told her to hate him for what he did was starting to grow silent, and the voice from her heart was becoming louder, telling her to forgive him and return to him. Damn it, she was going mad with all this emotional turmoil. After breakfast, she headed up to her room, changing into her usual red dress and giant hat, she felt she didn’t have to wear anything special this time. Besides, she wanted to enjoy her favorite dress before her belly started to grow and she would be unable to use it for a good while. She couldn’t help but wonder what Xibalba had planned this time.

Exactly at ten o’ clock, one of the maids knocked her door, announcing that Count Osvaldo had arrived. La Muerte made her way down and to the door, walking outside to meet her ‘’suitor’. Much to her surprise, Instead of a carriage, she found Osvaldo waiting for her at the door, his horse waiting in front of the fountain. What did he have in mind?

“Didn’t you bring a carriage today, Osvaldo?” she inquired.

“I’m afraid one of the wheels went loose yesterday night, so I’m afraid we’ll have to travel on horseback.” Osvaldo replied, smiling. “If you don’t mind, that is.”

La Muerte somehow found the idea of riding in his embrace again… romantic, and the words left her mouth before she could retort. “I don’t mind.” She mentally cursed herself. Osvaldo’s smile widened as he offered his arm to her.

“My lady.”

Reluctantly, she grabbed unto his arm, and stepped down the stairs side-by-side with him. Once they were in front of Medianoche, the horse glanced at her and let out a small snort, as if he were greeting her. He was apparently happy to see her again after so much time. La Muerte smiled at him and patted his neck lightly, to which the horse replied with a small nuzzle. Osvaldo carefully helped La Muerte climb into Medianoche’s back, before he climbed up behind her, and waited till she shifted to a comfortable position. Once he was certain La Muerte was safely accommodated in his embrace, Osvaldo gently kicked Medianoche into a walk and led him out of the castle grounds, when they were a good distance away from the castle, he kicked him into a light trot.

“So, Spain?” La Muerte inquired, uncomfortable with the silence.

“Oh, that. We’re actually going to the India.”

“W-What?”

“If I had told your daddy where I was actually taking you, he would have hung me on his trophy room. Don’t worry, you’re going to like it.”

One they were out in the outskirts of the Land of the Remembered, Xibalba teleported them to the Land of the Living, Soon they found themselves on a clearing in the middle of a rainforest, judging by the type of trees La Muerte could tell they were in the India, in fact, but she could hear the noises of a human settlement not far off. Xibalba dismounted, and helped her dismount, before changing into human shape; the same one he had taken for their ‘first date’, but with a more Indian complexion, with dark skin, black hair, beard and moustache, and dark eyes wearing an intricately patterned lungi, and a black Saraiki kurta.

“What?” he inquired, shrugging. “It’s another part of the world, and Asian people are not in good terms with ‘white people’ right now.”

Rolling her eyes, La Muerte changed into human form, with also an Indian complexion and skin tone, but her clothing was more colorful. She wore a sort of Indian dress called mekhela sador, with a yellow mekhela, red sador and marigold yellow riha, adorned with patterns of swirls, leaves and birds. Xibalba sent Medianoche back home for the time being lest he wanted him to be eaten by a Bengal tiger, and took his wife’s hand (surprisingly she didn’t protest in any way), leading her through the jungle briefly before the two of them emerged from the rainforest and walked into a village. La Muerte noticed the village was decorated with colorful lanterns, and merchants on the streets were selling lots of snacks, sweets and overall strange pouches of different colors. People were throwing the pouches at each other, staining their targets with dry powder of many colors, all bright and phosphorescent, apparently. There were lots of colors, red, yellow, blue, pink, purple and many more.

They were having fun. It warmed her heart to see humans like this, enjoying themselves, all happy and together, the children running around while shooting colored water from some new type of toy at their friends, further staining them with color. Xibalba smiled.

“How are you feeling today, mi amor?” he inquired. “I hope you’re in the mood for some fun.”

“What kind of fun?” La Muerte asked him, looking around at the people

“As you can see, people are throwing colored powder at each other, it’s called the festival of colors. I have the feeling you will like it.”

She rolled her eyes. “As if, you’re idea of fun is having two front seats in a public execution.”

Xibalba rolled his eyes, a bit irritated. “Maybe for the next date I’ll consider it.”

“Oh, so you would?”

“I don’t know… would I?”

“You’re capable of doing that.”

Xibalba stopped walking and pulled La Muerte out of the way of a color ‘bomb’, into a small alley. “Really?” he asked her, frowning and crossing his arms. “… And do you think I would ever lay a hand on you…?”

La Muerte turned away. “… No.”

“Are you sure, my dear?”

No reply. Xibalba realized he was messing it up, so he quickly changed the subject. He searched in his pockets and took out various small pouches stained in dry powder of different colors, just like the other people had. La Muerte took notice of them.

“What’s that?” she inquired.

Xibalba chuckled. “I figured out you’d like to throw things at me… That’s why I brought you here.”

“What do you mean?”

Placing the pouches back in his pockets for the time being, he took her hand again and led her down the path of the village, leading her to the main plaza. In the whole village, the people were throwing dry powder at each other, and even the elderly were having a good time. La Muerte couldn’t help but laugh when she was spilled with a bit of pink-dyed water by some children, though Xibalba didn’t find it as funny. Still, he saw she was in such a good mood that he didn’t mind.

“I never understood the point in throwing colored powder at other people, but I admit, it’s very funny!” La Muerte laughed.

Xibalba took out the powder pouches from his pocket again, but this time handed a few to his wife. “Just a favor.” He said, gulping. “Try not to aim at my face.”

“Why not?” La Muerte shrugged, smirking. “I thought you said I could take out my anger on you today.”

“Yeah, but have a bit of mercy…” he did his best to make a puppy look. “Please?”

“Hmmm…”

“Come on, do it for your dear old husband! I’m older than I look, my ankles and my back might hurt.” Xibalba grinned. “You know how being old feels.”

“As if!”

Xibalba didn’t have time to react as suddenly La Muerte threw a pouch of cyan powder at his shoulder, staining him, and then running off through the crowded streets, almost getting lost among the flying pouches, spilling water and color-stained people. He grinned. “So be it!” He went after her, and threw a pouch of yellow powder aimed at her hip, and his aim was surprisingly good as a cloud of colored powder exploded in her dress, staining great part of her clothing.

Rather than being angry, La Muerte laughed. “You-! You-!” She threw pink powder, aiming at his face this time, and this gave her a bit of time as he stopped to cough and wipe it off his face and facial hair, though the color remained. He growled playfully.

“This is war!”

As they ran down the streets of the village, laughing and receiving additional colored powder and water ammunitions from the rest of the laughing townspeople, they exchanged small ‘grenades’ of colored powder at each other, while trying to avoid the ones thrown at them, but Xibalba’s aims were aimed at every part of her body except her abdomen, recalling there was a tiny life growing in there. He wondered if the baby knew what was going on, and if he or she was having fun. La Muerte threw another powder pouch at his face, and took advantage of the seconds he took in wiping it off his eyes to go hide inside one of the few alleys where the coloring war was not taking place to take a breath. Every inch of her was stained in lots of bright colors, even her hair, she had the feeling she would need a good bath after this. When she saw Xibalba walking into the alley, she hid behind a wall and took out another pouch of colored powder, this one red, from her pouch to await for the right moment.

“Ah, come on, La Muerte!” he laughed, panting and wiping sweat off his brow. “Hiding in the shadows? That’s my thing!” he spotted something behind a wall, and grinned mischievously as he stepped closer to it slowly. A few seconds later, he stepped forward.

“GOTCHA!” but by the time he had realized what had just happened, he had already thrown the pouch at an empty spot.

La Muerte came out from her true hiding place, grinning tauntingly. “Gotcha.” She threw the pouch of red powder at his face, laughing again as she started to run down the alley once more .This time, however, Xibalba would have none of it. As soon as his vision cleared and he coughed the powder out of his lungs, his wings sprouted momentarily and he flew after her, catching her by the waist and lifted her into the air, his wings retreating into his back again, and he sprinkled a bit of powder in her face as payback.

“Hey, that was a dirty trick!” she snapped.

“I know.” Xibalba laughed, but his grin disappeared when he looked into his pockets and found he had run out of ammunition. “Uh oh.”

La Muerte squirmed a bit to get off his hold, blushing as she did so. When she ceased moving she realized their faces were inches from one another. Xibalba blushed as well, his heart accelerating as they were caught in another trance, and were this close to kissing, but suddenly La Muerte pulled back. Xibalba decided to change the subject.

“Okay, I’m defeated.” He sighed, shrugging. “I’m out of powder.”

“Me too.” La Muerte did her best to recover her breath, though her heart was still drumming inside her chest. “I’m exhausted.”

Xibalba noticed his wife was panting heavily, and in the last moment supported her before she could faint. “Are you okay?” he inquired.

“Yes, just a bit thirsty and tired, considering I technically run for two.” La Muerte panted in reply.

“You know, I know a place nearby… It’s a few streets away, and we got a reservation there, anyway.” The dark god took his wife’ hand and led her through the still-crowded streets, though the powder war had ceased and now people were cleaning themselves up.

“We do? What kind of food do they serve? I mean, I’ve heard they eat bugs in Asia…”

“Oh, no! It’s not that kind of place! It’s Indian specialties. Luckily for us, some people here understand English, and we can ask about the ingredients, though most of their food is spicy…” He smirked. “… And a little bird told me you like spicy food.”

“Well, I usually do, but in case you don’t know, pregnant women usually crave the opposite of what they usually like.”

“Well, what are your…” Xibalba thought for a moment. “Or rather, I should be asking you…” he leaned down to his wife’s abdomen, directing his words at the baby. “What are the orders for tonight?”

La Muerte thought for a moment. “Something cold and sweet.”

Xibalba looked back at La Muerte once they had arrived. “Well, here we are.”

The building wasn’t very impressive. It was rather worn down, but apparently the chairs and tables were decent enough. It was crowded with people, all laughing, most of them families or couples. “It’s… decent.”

“Oh, no, this is not exactly where we are having dinner.” Xibalba winked at her. “Follow me.”

La Muerte followed him into the restaurant, passing by the rest of the tables. She noticed they were heading towards a single door on one of the walls, but none of the humans took notice of it, apparently. He opened the door and invited her to go inside. The room was beautifully decorated in an Asiatic style, with red walls, golden edges and a small cherry tree on a corner, along with a table with white mantle and pink aromatic candles. There were two smaller tables with bowls of refreshingly cool water and towels to wash the colored powder off their hands and faces.

La Muerte failed to contain her amazement once again. “You never cease to… surprise me.”

“And speaking of surprises.” Xibalba sprinkled a last bit of green powder on her cheek, catching her off guard. La Muerte glared at him.

“That’s cheating!” she snapped.

He simply grinned. “Is it?”

La Muerte rolled her eyes, and proceeded to wash her face and hands with the water and towels. Xibalba did the same with the opposite bowl, though he struggled to get the powder off his moustache and beard. Once they were clean, Xibalba pulled back a chair for La Muerte to sit, and then went to take his place at the other side of the table. A waiter came to take their orders, and Xibalba asked two shaved ice. A few minutes later, the waiter returned with the shaved ice, La Muerte’s flavored strawberry and him blueberry. As they enjoyed the refreshing treat, La Muerte couldn’t help but notice Xibalba was unusually… cheerful.

“You seem to be on a good mood today.” She commented, taking some of the ice into her mouth.”

“I am, actually, but… I’m worried about you.” He responded, staring at her with concerned eyes. “I heard that these days you haven’t seen feeling well… That day that you couldn’t meet me or Itzlacol…·

“It’s exhaustion, at this point of the pregnancy it’s normal.”

“I hope this wasn’t too much.”

“It wasn’t, I think… Do you know what happened to Itzlacol? He said he had some business today, according to Father.”

Xibalba grinned. “You’ll have time to relax, my dear. He won’t be bothering you anymore.”

“What do you mean?” Her eyes widened in dismay. “You didn’t kill him, did you?!”

“Oh, come on, my dear! I have every reason to, but I wouldn’t go that low!”

“What happened, then?”

“Well…” he smirked again, taking a bit of shaved ice into his mouth. “Let’s say we had a small horse race and I won, both his horse and his word that he won’t be bothering you for the next ten days.”

La Muerte nearly dropped her spoon. “T-Ten days? Without Itzlacol?” She couldn’t contain her joy and relief.

“Well I figured that you would like some peace and time for yourself… especially in your state.” He didn’t have to react as suddenly La Muerte reached forwards and pulled him into a hug.

“Thank you, thank you!”

She was laughing. He hadn’t heard her laugh like this ever since… He found himself smiling and returning the hug, pulling her closer, wanting to hold her as close as possible right now. “You’re welcome, my dear. Anything for you and your baby…”

“You mean… Our baby?”

Xibalba pulled back from the hug, surprised. “You don’t mind if I say it?”

“Not anymore, really.”

The dark god gave her the sweetest glance in the world. “…Thank you. I also have some news, I think you won’t believe it.”

“What is it?”

“Well, Epona came to see Nezmal, the horse I won from Itzlacol, today. The poor thing was abused… I had to take him away from that brute…”

La Muerte took her hands to her lips. “How bad was it?”

“Pretty bad, but Epona says he’ll be better in a few months. He is safe now. But…. There is another thing…” Xibalba glanced around, and whispered into her ear. “I think something’s happening between my brother and Epona.”

La Muerte giggled. “You mean, like… in romantic terms?”

“I think so. Today they seemed to be very comfortable with each other, I could even say close.”

“And does it bother you?”

“I don’t know… Maybe a little….” He noticed La Muerte frowning. “N-Not because of Epona!”

She decided to tease him a bit. “Really? Didn’t you and Epona ever get… serious?”

Xibalba realized what she was playing, and decided to play along. “She didn’t…” he shrugged. “Though maybe I did.”

“And how was it?”

“Hmmm, it lasted a short period of time.”

“And did she like it?”

“I don’t know if she liked it, but I know how I felt.”

“How did you feel?”

“It was good, but… not good enough.” He sighed, deciding to drop the act. “I mean, she is a good woman, but we just weren’t meant like that for each other.” His gaze turned intense as he stared at La Muerte. “I only knew what best felt like two months ago.”

The comment stung at her heard as she recalled the morning afterwards, and she crossed her arms, looking away. “Then you ditched me.” To her surprise (and slight chagrin), Xibalba smiled. “What’s so funny?”

“I’m not laughing because I find something funny… I’m laughing because I’m seeing a beautiful and wonderful someone who surely knows how to remind me that I messed up.” When La Muerte crossed her arms again and looked away awkwardly, he chuckled. “But why would you care about my relationship with Epona?”

“Just curiosity. You never talked that much about it, and you changed the topic everytime I tried to ask.”

“There was not much to talk about… What happened, happened. What matters now is that we are good friends now.”

“I noticed.”

“I’m just afraid that irresponsible man I have to call my brother will play with her feelings.”

“He’s not that bad, he’s sweet when you get to know him.”

“Yeah, in a irritatingly funny kind of way.”

“I’d say more funny.”

Xibalba noticed there was something…. Off about her. He could tell something was bothering her. “Are you okay? You look… distracted and…”

“I’ okay.”

“You don’t look okay.” He reached out to grab her hand. “You can trust me... What’s bothering you?”

“Why didn’t you sign the divorce?”

Xibalba released her hand, in shock. Why was she asking him that? He looked down at his wedding band, present even in his human guises.

“Did you want me as a trophy? Or was it something else?”

“No, no… Believe me or not…” Xibalba sighed sadly. “I never wanted to drive you away, but deep down, like I told you, I thought you would be better with someone else… What could I offer you other than a wasteland?! Nothing… Until I realized that I did have something to offer you…” he glanced up at her. “… My heart. Ever since you left, many things happened, things that helped me realize what I felt, and how wrong I was…”

La Muerte shook her head. “I wish I could believe you.”

“You can! You just don’t want to! I could also forgive my father, but I don’t want to… But there’s one thing that I simply can’t do, with or without my will.”

She turned to look at him. “And what would that be?”

“I can’t stop loving you.”

She didn’t say anything. Just then, they were caught in another trance as they glanced at each other’s eyes, their faces unknowingly drawing closer. Her heart was drumming inside her chest, and her cheeks reddened when she felt Xibalba’s hand touching her cheek longingly, in such a tender way… As their heads were inches away from each other once more, now it was Xibalba who hesitated, and looked like he was going to pull back, nearly breaking them out of their blissful trance.

“What is it…?”

He couldn’t take it anymore. Finally, Xibalba bent forward and pressed his lips against La Muerte’s, stealing a kiss from her, and pulling back in case she’d snap at him, or slap him, or whatever way she reacted. But she was frozen in surprise, she didn’t react, processing what had just happened. Meanwhile, Xibalba waved his hand and yet another blue rose appeared, holding it our to her.

“I would have given it to you sooner, but I didn’t want to stain it with the powder.”

La Muerte grabbed the stem of the flower gently, her fingers softly brushing against his, making both blush.

“It’s already getting late…” Xibalba said, regaining his composure. “It’s already getting late, I think we should get back. You need to rest.”

“La Muerte sighed. “I think so…”

Xibalba helped La Muerte stand up, and led her out of the room, out of the restaurant and back to the streets. It was now nighttime, and most of the people had retreated into their homes to protect themselves against the wild beasts that roamed around the jungle, the laughter and flying colors a mere memory as the moonlight illuminated the already poorly lit streets. Xibalba gave a long whistle with his fingers, and seconds later Medianoche trotted down the street, stopping right in front of the couple. Once more, Xibalba helped La Muerte climb unto the saddle, before climbing up himself and kicking his horse into a small trot. Once they were out of the village, out of any possible eavesdropping human’s range of sight, Xibalba teleported them back to the Land of the Remembered-though usually teleportation was not recommended for pregnant goddesses due to the effort it required, if another god was the one who cast the teleportation there was really no danger-, once again taking on his disguise of Osvaldo, and trotted all the way back to the palace.

Once they were in front of the colorful set of stairs and doors, Osvaldo helped La Muerte dismount and accompanied her to the door. As they climbed up the stairs, La Muerte finally spoke. “Thanks for today.” She was blushing.

Osvaldo smiled at her. “You’re welcome, my dear.” When they finally arrived at the doors, he glanced down at her abdomen for a few seconds. “… Take care.”

La Muerte saw the expression on his face. He truly cared about his son or daughter, and she could tell he was dying to speak to the baby, talk to him or her… “Do you want to say something to the baby before you go?”

Osvaldo was surprised by the question, but he didn’t need to think about it. “Yes.” His gaze locked with hers.

“What is it?”

Osvaldo smiled as he placed a hand on her growing abdomen. “Just that I love you both.”

La Muerte couldn’t help but to respond with a small smile of her own, the walls she had put around her were finally crumbling. “The baby loves you too.”

“One done, one more to go.”

She giggled. “Dork.” She planted another kiss on his cheek, but this time it was a bit closer to the lips. Osvaldo’s grin became wider as his cheeks reddened.

“See you tomorrow?” he inquired hopefully.

The goddess smiled again when she was at the door. “See you tomorrow.”

Osvaldo winked at her, making La Muerte giggle as she stepped inside the castle, closing the doors behind her with a wave of her hand. Xibalba went back to Medianoche and climbed unto the saddle, teleporting them both back to the Land of the Forgotten, at the same time changing back into himself. When he was certain he was alone, he couldn’t contain his excitement any longer.

“YES!” he yelled at the top of his lungs and kicked Medianoche into a gallop, laughing as he went back to his castle. “YES, YES, YES! XIBALBA, YOU’RE AWESOME!”

This love it is a burning song….

Chapter Text

It had been two days since her birthday, but he couldn’t wait any longer. He had to see her. When he was certain everyone, especially her, were asleep, he snuck into the Land of the Remembered and flew to her balcony. It was locked from the inside, but it was no obstacle for him as he unlocked it with a small wave of his hand, and silently opened the doors, stepping inside while trying to make as less noise as possible.

There she was, on top of her canopy bed, her hair strewn out, her eyes closed as she slept. Xibalba smiled sadly at the sight, remembering how many times he had seen her like this back home… carefully, he sat down on the other side of her bed, and crawled a bit closer to her to take a peek. Her face was serene, and there was a small smile on her smile, he noticed one of her hands was on top of her abdomen. Even asleep, she protected her… their child. Xibalba couldn’t contain it anymore, he gingerly ran a finger down her cheek in yearning, and brushed a few hairs away from her beautiful face, she stirred at his touch, making him retreat his hand in alarm, the least thing he needed was her waking up and finding him in her room. She’d have his head. When La Muerte remained still once again, Xibalba leaned his face closer to hers and his lips pressed against hers for a few seconds before he retreated, again tasting her cherry-flavored lips.

“Xibalba…”

The dark god nearly jumped from bed when she spoke his name, panicking and thinking she had awaken and would scream at any moment, but she simply stirred in her sleep before becoming still again. She was still asleep. But then why…?

“Xibalba…” she whispered again, embracing one of her pillows as if she were embracing her husband in her dreams.

His heart leapt in joy when he heard her whispering his name with such longing, the beacon of hope burning brightly; she was dreaming with him, she still loved him, he still had a chance to mend things. As she continued to dream with him, whispering his name and calling for him, he recalled when the roles were reversed, back when they were getting to know each other, when he saved her from the Forgotten Beasts, injuring himself in the process and becoming feverish one night, going as far as to mistake his wife for his beloved mother Selena.

Perhaps… Maybe it wouldn’t hurt if he spent a few hours with her and the baby, it had been so long ever since he was so close to her. Making sure her door was locked, Xibalba lay down next to her in bed and wrapped his arms around her, pulling her closer; almost instinctively, she snuggled against his embrace, trying to snuggle as close to him as possible, calling his name again. “Xibalba… Don’t leave me…”

That sentence broke his heart. “Shhh…” he whispered into her ear, wrapping his wings around her body, stroking her head. “I’m here, mi amor, I’m here… I’m not leaving you alone ever again, I promise…” When she shifted in his embrace again, he brushed a small tear away from the corner of her eye, and started to sing gently.

Say you’ll share with me one love, one lifetime.

Lead me, save me from my solitude

Say you want me with you here, beside you.

Anywhere you go let me go too.

His eyes were swelling up with tears, but he continued to hold the love of his life, and the little heartbeat within, as close to him as possible.

La Muerte… that’s all I ask of you…

Hours later, he awoke before she did, and found she was still snuggled against him, sleeping soundly. Realizing he had stayed for far longer than he expected, Xibalba carefully slid La Muerte out of his embrace and pulled the duvet over her once again, planting another, farewell kiss on her cheek, stroking it tenderly.

“See you later, mi corazón…” he whispered, his eyes swelling up in tears as he made his way to the balcony, closing the doors and locking it again; he couldn’t contain the tears anymore as he flew away.

The next morning, La Muerte awoke feeling a bit ill-she was actually feeling a bit ill, this time-and she announced to her father she wouldn’t be able to attend Osvaldo today, if he came. She had guessed it right, Osvaldo arrived at the exact hour from every day and knocked the door, hiding a blue rose behind his back to surprise La Muerte, but luckily he managed to keep it behind his back when the door opened, and a servant, not La Muerte, opened the door.

“Excellency, I’m afraid Princess La Muerte is not feeling well today, she won’t be able to go out with you. But King Sol wishes to have a word with you.”

Osvaldo was disappointed, but nevertheless he nodded. “Very well. Lead the way, if you’d please.”

The servant lead the Count down the colorful hall, and into the throne room, unusually empty save for King Sol himself, who was waiting patiently for the Count to arrive. Osvaldo hoped he was not suspecting anything, but judging by the smile that drew across Sol’s face when he saw him he could guess he wasn’t going to reprimand him for something. “Ah, your excellency, good timing.”

The servant bowed and left the two alone, while Osvaldo did a polite bow to King Sol. “Your Majesty…” he looked up at him. “I was informed that Lady La Muerte is not feeling well today, and you wanted to speak with me…”

Sol nodded. “Indeed, I wish to have a little word with you, Excellency.”

“What can I do for you, Your Highness?”

“I have noticed that you and my daughter have been getting… closer.”

Osvaldo couldn’t help but blush. “Well, La Muerte is certainly a very pleasant company, and I assume that it was your intention to find a suitor for her, right?”

“Indeed, though I must admit, I never thought she’d fall for someone she had never met before so quickly.”

“Neither did I…” Osvaldo chuckled. “She is really a wonderful person, but what makes you think she has fallen for me?”

“Well, she has been speaking wonders of you these last days, and Lord Itzlacol hasn’t shown up for a while. I wonder what has have him so busy, have you heard of something?”

“I’m afraid not, My Lord. He surely has matters that simply cannot be delayed. He is full of surprises, nobody really knows him.”

Sol let out a few coughs. “Forgive me if I sound disrespectful, but what are your intentions with my daughter?”

“My intentions with your daughter, My Lord, are just as… serious as your life for her is.” Osvaldo replied solemnly and with great seriousness. “I don’t know if she fell for me or not, but I do know how I feel about her.”

Sol sighed again. “Once more, please excuse me for sounding so distrustful, but ever since I made the mistake to let her marry that…” he stiffened in disgust. “Man she has to call her husband, I’ve been more wary.”

Clutching the head of his cane (another of Ponzoña’s forms) to contain himself, Osvaldo nodded. “I understand, My Lord.” He managed to calm down enough to speak tenderly this time. “I wish to make La Muerte my wife, but even if she does accept my proposal, she is still a married woman, and knowing how seriously she takes these kind of things, she knows a consumed marriage cannot be annulled”

“I’m afraid so.” Sol sighed sadly. “But given the circumstances, I believe we could eventually come to an agreement with Lord Xibalba.”

“What sort of agreement, My Lord?”

The old god stroked his beard in thought. “Maybe for the right price he might be willing to give my daughter her freedom back. I hear he’s not economically stable at the moment.”

Osvaldo’s grip on Ponzoña’s head tightened (he made a mental note to apologize to his snake later) and was barely able to contain his anger, but for La Muerte’s sake contained the urge to snap at Sol. La Muerte didn’t have a price, damn it! There was nothing in the world more worthy than her, he’d rather go broke than treat her like merchandise. “And… what if La Muerte does not have a price for him? What if she is actually what he really… wants?”

“That man is incapable of loving anyone! If you knew him personally, you’d agree with me. In fact, lately I haven’t been hearing much from him, he hasn’t even bothered to ask about my daughter’s status.” Sol growled, looking away though the window. “He never cared for her, he merely wished to have her as a trophy.”

“I don’t mean to intrude, but does Lord Xibalba know about the fact that La Muerte is carrying his child?”

“I don’t know if La Muerte wants him to know, but I doubt he has any idea of it. And even if he did, I doubt he’d take responsibility.”

Osvaldo was nearly at his boiling point, until he recalled a technique Epona taught him to keep cool in the presence of Sol. He took a deep breath, and exhaled, managing to calm himself down for the time being. “My Lord, I don’t mean to be indiscreet, but… In what circumstances did La Muerte marry Lord Xibalba?”

This time, King Sol turned his back on Osvaldo and sighed in regret, recalling that day he had seen her walk down the aisle, as unhappy as he never wanted her to be. “A wager.” He whispered. “I made a wager with him, and I lost. Xibalba was going to take my kingdom, unless I handed one of my daughters to him to be his wife; La Muerte was overhearing, and she offered herself as his bride to protect the kingdom.” His hands tightened into fists. “I don’t want to imagine what kind of torture she went through with that monster. She denies it, but I’m certain he was a brute.”

“And you allowed her to marry him? From the way you are telling it, she was used as a sort of sacrifice to…” Osvaldo looked down uncomfortably. “… Save your realm.”

Sol turned to face Osvaldo, his eyes lighting up with fire. “With all due respect, your excellency, I did not wish her to marry him, not even if my kingdom depended on it, but she insisted. I would have rather handed the crown to Xibalba than allow him to take my beloved daughter, but La Muerte was so selfless she didn’t allow me to.” His gaze softened. “She truly cares about all our subjects.”

“Indeed, she does…” Osvaldo looked down in thought. “Please excuse my insistence, but how can you be so sure that La Muerte suffered during her time in Lord Xibalba’s realm? During our dates, she didn’t show any signs of… neglecting her child because of him. She showed compassion and love towards the child, even if the father is Lord Xibalba.”

“Of course. La Muerte has a heart of gold, she is very compassionate, fair and loving. She’d never take out any negative emotions on anyone, she has a kind heart, just like her mother. Even if the father of her child is Lord Xibalba, she doesn’t care, as far as she knows, that baby is only hers. She is always smiling, no matter the circumstances.”

“Well, yes, but… the baby is not only hers.”

“But Xibalba does not know about the child, I don’t want to say anything unless La Muerte wishes to let him know. I will not do anything behind her back.”

“That’s not what I meant, My Lord.”

“Oh?”

“I mean that…” Osvaldo tried to think of the right words. “… All parents have the right to know if they are to become parents. What Lord Xibalba did was cruel, indeed, but what is right is right. If I shall marry your daughter, I don’t want to cause a scandal for not informing Lord Xibalba about his child.”

Thankfully, Sol seemed to consider it, and after a while shrugged. “Like I said, it’s La Muerte’s decision only. If she wishes to know about the child, I will pose no opposition.”

Osvaldo nodded. “My Lord?”

“Yes?”

“I… I love your daughter like mad. I don’t know when it happened or why, but I do know what I want her to be happy.”

Sol smiled at him. “I’m glad you’re being honest with me. You’re so much unlike Xibalba…”

Osvaldo chuckled. “Strange, Lord Itzlacol pointed out how much I remind him of him-“ he froze when he realized what he had just said, especially when Sol cocked his head at him.

“He did?” he narrowed his eyes a bit. “Now that I recall, you do have a bit of resemblance to him…”

“The… black and all?” Osvaldo tried to lighten up the mood, chuckling nervously.

“But that can’t be. You are nothing like him! My, you are an absolute gentleman, and the fact you wear black clothing doesn’t have anything to do with it. In fact, there are a few gods in my pantheon who wear black, it’s a sort of tradition among death gods.

Internally sighing in relief, Osvaldo smiled. “Thank you for your words, My Lord.” He brought the blue rose from behind his back and held it out to Sol, who smiled.

“You haven’t ran out of roses, your excellency?”

“No, My Lord. My garden is blooming with them.” He glanced at the blue rose. “These roses mean a lot to me, I usually don’t give them away just like that to anyone…”

“May I inquire as to why they are so important?”

Osvaldo’s expression turned sad as the stared at the blue rose. “These were my mother’s…”

“Your mother’s?”

Osvaldo nodded as he handed the rose to Sol. “Please give this to La Muerte. She knows by now who is giving her these roses, and do tell her I wish she gets better in the next few days.”

King Sol nodded. “I will, your Excellency.” He smiled. “Thank you for your attentions to my daughter. I’m certain she needs it right now.”

“I made some plants for the next days. You think I could… steal your daughter for a couple of days?”

“Of course, if she feels alright, there’s no problem with me! But I must ask that you be careful, I wouldn’t like her to have trouble with her pregnancy.”

“Don’t worry, My Lord. Her safety and the baby’s comes first. If she doesn’t feel alright, I shall bring her home: I know it must be hard to be expecting a child, and I admit, she had interesting cravings.

“Cravings? What kind of cravings if I may know.”

“Especially desserts, and spicy recipes.”

King Sol chuckled. “Sound pretty much like her.”

“I have the feeling the baby will have a sweet tooth…”

“I wonder where he could have gotten it from…”

“Maybe her father-?” Osvaldo froze again when he realized he had messed up again.

“Excuse me?” King Sol inquired. “What is that supposed to mean?”

“Well…” Come on, Xibalba! Think of something fast! “It’s inevitable that the child might as well get certain traits from his father as well.”

“I suppose you’re right.”

Phew. “I didn’t mean to sound like that. Please forgive me…”

“It’s okay, Excellency.”

“I…” Osvaldo sighed. “I have always wished to be a father, but unfortunately, I am sterile. I do hope to be a good father to your daughter’s child, My Lord…”

“Don’t you really mind that the baby is someone else’s?”

“I don’t.”

King Sol sighed. “I wish my daughter could have met you sooner. She would have never gotten together with… him.”

“Nothing happened accidentally. If it was meant for her to meet Lord Xibalba… Then… Perhaps she would have met him in other circumstances as well, even if she had actually met me before.”

“Perhaps… Who knows? The Fates work in mysterious ways…”

“Now, if you will excuse me, My Lord, I’m afraid I also have some business to attend to. But I will be back tomorrow to see if she’s feeling better.

Sol nodded. “I understand…”

“Please tell La Muerte that I hope she will get better soon.”

“I will, Excellency.”

Osvaldo gave him a small bow and left the throne room. As he walked down the hall and stepped outside, he took a look around to make sure he was alone, and turned into a streak of tar, zipping upwards and searching for La Muerte’s balcony doors. He went back into his original form once more, but he hid from view; La Muerte was reading a book on her small red couch, and his eyes set on her belly, now he could see it was already beginning to show. He was about to knock on the window glass when Sol entered the room holding the blue rose, and he had to hide from view to remain unseen.

“La Muerte?”

La Muerte lifted her gaze from the book she was reading when her father entered the room. She smiled. “What is it, papa?”

“Osvaldo came to leave you a rose, and he wishes that you get better soon.” Sol smiled, holding out the beautiful rose to her. La Muerte gently took it from his grasp and stroked its petals, smelling it. The wonderful aroma overcame her, and she thought she could feel her little one shifting in delight at the smell. “Ay, Osvaldo…” her cheeks immediately turned red.

King Sol noticed. “How do you feel about him, mija?”

“Well, I see him as a… better choice than Itzlacol. And a very good friend.”

“I see… And would you accept him as a potential husband?”

La Muerte looked up questioningly at him. “Why do you ask that, papa?

“I don’t mean to intrude, La Muerte, but I think it’s time you move on.”

“Papa, I cannot…” the goddess looked down

“Please, La Muerte, Osvaldo has shown that he cares both about you and your child, hasn’t he?”

“He has.”

“Then what’s the problem?”

La Muerte crossed her arms matter-of-factly, giving her father a severe glare. “Aren’t you forgetting something? Xibalba? I’m still married.”

Pardiez. She had him there. “We will… solve that issue one way or another.” Sol placed a comforting hand on her shoulder. “I’m only asking, my daughter, would you accept Osvaldo as a husband if you could?”

La Muerte couldn’t believe what she was going to say, but she had to keep the charade up for Xibalba. “I.. I might consider it. But I need time, papa. “ she frowned again. “Don’t even think about Itzlacol, because I’m not giving him a chance. Osvaldo has much better chances.”

“I understand, my daughter. I wish you would have given Itzlacol a chance, but if that’s your choice, I shall respect you.”

“Gracias, papa- Ow!” Suddenly she felt a sharp pain on her back, and she instinctively covered her baby bump with her hands.

King Sol grew alarmed. “La Muerte, what is it?” he kneeled down and placed his hand on top of hers.

“It’s hurting again. My back has been aching these days, and I think it’s affecting the baby.”

“Should I call a doctor?”

“I thought it would go away by itself, but now that I think of it again…”

“I will fetch doctor Chamán, mija. Meanwhile, you just relax.”

La Muerte winced as her father went back to his feet. “Could you bring me a cup of raspberry tea?”

Sol smiled. “Of course. I shall tell the chefs to make one right away and have it delivered.

“Thank you, Father… I’m a bit tired…”

“I shall leave you to rest, mija. I will bring the doctor as soon as possible.” Planting a small kiss on his daughter’s forehead, King Sol headed for the door, glancing back at La Muerte one last time. “Have a good rest, dear daughter.”

La Muerte smiled at her father before he left. She had been feeling a dark presence just outside the window, and she waited a few more minutes, making sure her father was out of earshot, before waving her hand to lock the doors, and open the doors. “You can come in now.” She said.

Xibalba sighed in relief and walked into the room, immediately approaching her. “Are you okay? How are you feeling?”

“Tired…” La Muerte sighed. “The back pains are going to kill me.”

“Are you sure you don’t need a massage?”

She frowned at him, looking away. “I’m not sure I can trust you. It’s not about me, it’s about the baby.”

“I’m worried about the both of you!” Xibalba snapped, a bit incensed.

She winced again. “Owowow… I hope you didn’t make any plans, Xibalba… I am not in condition to leave any soon.”

“Well, I had actually been thinking of… But if you don’t feel well, I’ll come to see you in the least.” He grinned. “Besides, Regina and the others have been wanting to send you gifts for a while.”

“Really? What kind of gifts?” La Muerte glanced down at the blue rose still in her hands. “Could you put it in the vase with the others? It’s on my bedside table.”

Xibalba grabbed the rose gently and headed towards the furniture, spotting a beautiful red vase with intricate patterns of hearts and skulls, and he saw all the roses he had given her where carefully accommodated in it. He was moved by the gesture, and tenderly placed the new one inside the vase carefully. “Well… They wanted to make you a baby shower, but I told them it would be better if I brought you their gifts.”

“That’s sweet on their part-AY!” La Muerte winced again when her back jolted in pain once more when she tried to stand up, but her husband was quick to react and caught her before she could fall to the floor.

“La Muerte, you have to lay down!” he said in alarm.

“Yes... Ayayay, I don’t know what could be wrong…!”

“Maldita sea, I wish Asclepius could check on you…”

“This is the period when back pain stars, but I didn’t know it would be this bad…” La Muerte grit her teeth at another jolt of pain. “Papa went to fetch the doctor too…”

Xibalba rolled his eyes. “No offense, my dear, but your… mortal doctor can’t be compared to the god of medicine himself, can he?”

“You have a point there… But how could Asclepius check on me, anyway? Papa won’t even want him to get into the castle.”

“Why not?” the dark god thought for a moment. “Let me guess, because he treats me?”

She nodded, rubbing her spine and looking down at her abdomen. “I’m worried… I want to make sure she is safe… But how…?”

“Maybe if your doctor recommended him… If your father cares about your wellbeing and the baby’s, he won’t be able to refuse.”

“You’re right-AY!” La Muerte winced at the pain again, this time digging her nails into Xibalba’s arm, making him wince. Almost immediately, he picked her up bridal style and took her to bed, placing her down gently and pulling the duvet over her to keep her warm.

“What did you and papa talk about, by the way?”

He shrugged. “Typical. What are my intentions with you and if I don’t mind looking after ‘another’s’ child.”

“And what are your intentions?”

The dark god smiled. “To make you the happiest of women…” But as he reached out to brush a hair away from her face, she turned away coldly.

“Is that what Osvaldo said?” She whispered emotionlessly.

“That’s what we both said…”

“Both?” She winced again and gripped her blankets, closing her eyes shut in pain. “AYAYAY!”

Xibalba instantly reacted. “Damn it, is it that bad?”

“Maybe not for you! You only put your seed inside me, but I’m the one who has to carry the baby!

That hurt. He knew she was just talking through pain, but he was not of stone! “Don’t be like that!”

“Like what?!”

“It’s half your responsibility too!” Xibalba grew nervous when she glared at him. “I mean, I know I can’t even imagine what it would be to be in your shoes, but…”

“But…?!”

“It doesn’t mean I don’t care!”

La Muerte didn’t say anything. She simply kept her gaze, her beautiful sun-like eyes, away from him. “You know, sometimes I still think how things would have been if we had never spent that night.”

I can’t even imagine it. How can you…?

“None of this would have ever happened. Probably I would still be in your castle and we would be just… friends”

“No.” he whispered, looking away himself. “I think we would still have been more than that.” When he looked at her again, his eyes were glossy. “I needed your comfort more than ever…”

“One way or another, you would have sent me away, anyway.”

“No, if you had been there… Like I said…” Another sigh. “Things happened after you left.”

La Muerte finally turned to see him, her eyes moistened with hot tears of anger. “I think you made lots of mistakes in your life, but you just cannot call it a mistake. You humiliated me, Xibalba, you made me feel like a bag of trash one can dispose of because you wanted to, because of whatever reason you may have had! And it’s my fault, because I too made a mistake…”

“No, you didn’t make any mistakes, it was all my doing…!”

She wiped her tears away. “I did make a mistake. To trust you.”

“Please, believe me when I tell you there’s not a single day I haven’t regretted all those things I said…!”

The tears returned, and she couldn’t keep them in as much as she tried. “Ay, Xibalba…”

Xibalba was crying too by then. “I’m sorry…”

“Me too, for falling like this.”

“Falling?”

She had wanted to say falling for him, but other words came out. “Falling for your tricks and lies.”

Xibalba winced. That was a big blow, he was certain he’d have a heart attack soon. “Of all the stupid things I’ve done, that was the worst.” His voice was hoarse. It was truly pitiful. “If I hadn’t driven you, you’d be back at home with me… everyone… I could be close to you as myself and not as a lie…”

“You know what? I always dreamed of meeting my prince charming. I always imagined the morning after my first time with my husband to be magical, just to hug him and make him something tasty for breakfast, and tell him how much I loved him…!” She was wailing now, turning her back on Xibalba to keep him from seeing her cry for him. “You hurt me so much…”

He closed his eyes, the tears still rolling down his cheeks as he lowered his head. She wasn’t the only one who was hurt that day. It had broken his heart… no, his very soul… to speak to her like that. To discard her like that. The brokenhearted expression on her face was still clearly imprinted on his brain, he couldn’t get rid of it no matter how many times he tried.

What had happened? When did that horrible idea ever come into him? Why? He guessed the nightmare-of which he suspected Akrinok was responsible-had a part in it. He had wanted to watch her sleep for a while longer, wait until she woke up, then carry her down to have breakfast together, but it didn’t happen… How he wished he could go back in time, but it was against the Ancient Rules.

“I know I ruined everything…” he whispered, unable to contain a sob. “I’m truly sorry… I’d do anything, I’d go to Hell and back to have you back with me…

“How can you expect me to believe you?” La Muerte snapped at him. “How do I know that this is not another attempt of yours to hurt me again?”

“WHAT DO I HAVE TO DO SO THAT YOU WILL BELIEVE ME?!” Xibalba yelled louder than he intended to, standing up from the side of the bed, his expression one of utter despair and pain. “Do you want me to beg?! Tell me and I will. I will bark and whine like a dog with a word from you!”

“I begged, Xibalba. You didn’t listen.” She responded bitterly. “Why should I listen to your begging?”

Silence.

“You’re right. I have no right to ask you anything.” His expression became serious. “Not even for mercy, because I didn’t give you any. If you want me out of your life, permanently, tell me. I will not go at the word of your father, or your sister, not even the Kings. Only yours.”

She couldn’t believe what she was hearing. He was… giving up?

“I’m your dog, your slave, or whatever you wish to call me. Tell me you want me out of your life or I won’t go.”

The next minutes were silent. La Muerte didn’t respond. Xibalba panicked, thinking she was considering it, kicking him out of her life, and that of their child’s, forever. He cursed himself for being so specific.

“There is just one thing I’m asking you to do.”

His heart skipped a beat. Was she going to…. He could hear the words already, and she hadn’t even spoken them yet. Xibalba started to tremble. Her back was turned on him again, so he couldn’t see her expression, which further augmented his fear of being driven away… But much to his surprise, she turned to him, her eyes dry but gentle, and grabbed his hand to place it on her abdomen..

“You hurt me… Don’t make the same mistake with my…” She smiled lightly. “…Our child.”

The weight on his shoulders and chest disappeared, and he could breath normally again. His eyes were swelling up with tears as he squeezed her hand in his. “I won’t… You have my word, and you know I never break a promise.” Now that she was on top of bed, he wondered if… “La Muerte… Can I?”

She didn’t need to think about it, and she gave him a sad nod as she lifted her hands from her abdomen. “You’re the father. I can’t deny you your right.”

Carefully, Xibalba rested his head on her abdomen, his cheek touching her belly gently, and placing his hand to stroke the little one. He wondered if he or she could hear him already. Maybe she did. “Hey there, baby…” he whispered tenderly, stroking the bump with his thumb affectionately. “How are you doing…? I’m papi, can you hear me?”

La Muerte closed her eyes, shivering internally in delight when she felt his hand stroking her abdomen, talking to the little one. His voice was so sweet…

“Take good care of your mami for me, would you? Papi will be going for a while, but I promise you I will bring you something pretty the next time.”

“Mami needs to rest now…” La Muerte sighed, stroking Xibalba’s cheek, giggling a bit when his expression became goofy and he melted under her touch. “So you’ll tell Asclepius he might have to visit me?”

He smiled, lifting his head from her abdomen. “I will.”

La Muerte looked down at her abdomen, “I never regretted this, Xibalba… I don’t know what I would know if something happened to her…”

“Nothing will happen to her.”

“You sound so sure… I’m worried…”

“You are a strong woman, you will be fine.”

“I’m almost three months due, Xibalba, and it’s this bad. How am I going to be in the last month?”

“I trust you.”

“You trust me…?”

“You know what I mean.”

“It makes me feel so much better now-“ Suddenly, La Muerte gasped, the pain left her breathless. Xibalba reacted and grabbed her shoulders protectively.

“Need anything?” he asked in alarm.

“A doctor.”

Suddenly, there was a knock on the door. Both gods panicked, and La Muerte quickly opened the doors of her balcony with a wave of her hand, motioning Xibalba to leave. The dark god quickly flew out of the room, closing the doors shut and hiding before La Muerte unlocked her doors. “Come in!” she said.

Xibalba took a peek through the window, and saw a servant entering the room with a cup of tea, which La Muerte accepted with a grateful smile. Xibalba sighed. “That was a close one…”

Taking one last glance at his beloved wife, the dark god flew away.

Chapter Text

My Heart Belongs to You

Chapter 43

Okay, everyone, I’d like to let you know something. A good friend of mine, Neagoieolivia, has become my creative consultant for this fic. The plot and characters still belong to me, but she helps me develop certain plot points and character developments, particularly with the character of Itzlacol, which she helped me create.

Enjoy the chap!

Despite being a god of fire and war, Itzlacol’s realm was curiously anything but violent. It was a mountainous region with forests and jungles filled with predatory animals, all the inhabitants representing not only big and strong, but also cunning. Just like the realm’s master. Itzlacol’s palace was the very definition of majestic and luxury. The walls were of polished marble with gold, and the walls and pillars were impeccably clean, so much one could see their reflection everywhere they looked. The throne room was the piece de resistance, everything was bathed in golden and marble, the throne was adorned with rubies, sapphires and great diamonds. The chandelier had crystals of all sizes illuminating the large room, reflecting on the walls impeccably. Many of Itzlacol’s trophies-most of them head of various creatures from far and wide such as hippogriffs, wendigos and many more- were exposed there as ‘proof of his greatness and strenght’.

Itzlacol was on his throne, taking a sip of red wine from a golden jewel-encrusted goblet, before staring at the drink and waving it inside the cup. Two more days and he would be able to go see La Muerte. He cursed his luck for losing against Osvaldo, he had lost a very expensive horse, and unfortunately, it had been a wager by the Ancient Rules. He usually didn’t care about those stupid rules, but to break a deal by them was a very grave crime. Then again, it was not the loss of the animal that was infuriating him, but rather because he had lost precious time, and Osvaldo had gotten ahead of him. It was as if the Count had known all along that he’d win…

Now that he thought of it, Osvaldo’s attitude reminded him a lot of a certain dark god, but he couldn’t be certain… And those blue, seductive roses had never left his brain ever since he first saw one of those… How could a mere Count obtain such roses? Osvaldo said those roses had been in his family for generations, but there was something missing…. He couldn’t tell what. He had never heard of any Gods who could grow the blue roses, or he just wasn’t tying up the knots correctly…

“My Lord?”

Itzlacol muttered and glanced at one of his servants. “What?” he said coldly, but there was a fire in his eyes that let the servant know he was angry at being disturbed.

“E-Excuse me, but there’s an entity who wants to see you…”

Itzlacol needed no more explanations. He left his throne and silently motioned his servant to let him in. The golden gates opened, and a skeletal jaguar entered the room in an elegant trot, before it started to change shape into a skeletal man wearing an old intricate robe and a headdress that reminded one of the ancient Aztec nobility, but his were all worn down and there were marks of wrinkles on the skeleton’s face. It bowed before Itzlacol, before looking up, though avoiding the God’s face. He knew he didn’t like ‘minor entities’ looking at him in the eye like they were his equals.

“Did you find out what I asked you?” Itzlacol inquired, drumming his fingers on his throne.

“Indeed, My Lord, I managed to learn a bit about those… particular flowers that have caught your interest.”

“Stop blabbering and speak at once.”

“Apparently, there was only one goddess who grew roses of such color, My Lord. Her name is Selena, she belonged to a long-gone pantheon in Ancient Days.”

“And where can I find her?”

“I’m afraid I couldn’t find about her whereabouts, My Lord. The last thing I learned was that she was offered as a bride to a monster in hopes her pantheon would be spared, but her intended husband massacred them anyway. I could learn he was very cruel dragon-“

“Wait.” Itzlacol lifted his hand, frowning. “A dragon?”

“A very strange dragon, indeed. He was a living creature, and yet he had the appearance of a black skeletal dragon with green ectoplasm for insides…”

That description… He was certain he had heard it somewhere, but he couldn’t place where and when… “Find out more about that dragon and the goddess and then return to inform me of what you have learned.” He motioned to his servant. “My servant will lead you to your… payment.”

Bowing once again to than the God for his time, the Nahual turned back and changed back into a jaguar to follow the servant out of the throne room, leaving Itzlacol alone with his thoughts. The Fire God looked into his wine with all the calm of the world, but it had started to evaporate from the heat emanating from his anger in a repressed fury.

La Muerte would be his, one way or another…

A few days passed since their ‘secret meeting’, and she got much better thank to both Doctor Chamán and Asclepius’s (who, like Xibalba had predicted, Sol hadn’t the heart of rejecting because of his medicinal prowess, and he wanted the best for his daughter and grandchild) treatments, and she was a bit amused at how the two doctors often bickered about their methods. Osvaldo would visit her every day, and he’d bring hand-made gifts from Emilio, Regina and the rest of the lizards under the pretense that he wanted to give gifts to his future ‘stepchild’. Soon she was able to leave bed again. She was glad, she hated to be bedridden all the time like she were crippled. In fact, when ‘Osvaldo’ came to fetch her for their next date, she said she wanted to let Blanca stretch her legs a bit. He was reluctant, thinking that if she were to fall off the horse for any circumstance the baby would get hurt, but she insisted so much that Osvaldo had no choice but to agree. Much to La Muerte’s surprise, Osvaldo was bringing another steed along, a beautiful Arabian with reddish brown coat.

Xibalba teleported them to Epona’s realm to spend the day, and much to La Muerte’s surprise a small green canopy with golden swirls was already set up, with a white wooden tea table with matching chairs underneath its shade, complete with small cakes and pastries, along with the teapot and cups ready for use. Xibalba was the first to dismount, and rushed to La Muerte before she could get off Blanca. “Hey, hey, let me lend you a hand.”

La Muerte rolled her eyes as he lifted himself with his wings and gently took her by the waist, helping her dismount as carefully as he could. “I’m not that fragile, you know…”

“I know, but you just recovered. In fact, you shouldn’t have come here on horseback, what if Blanca spooked and you fell off her like that time?”

“I’m not an amateur anymore.”

“I know, I don’t doubt that you’re better, but…” he placed his hand on her abdomen without fear of rejection this time. “…I would never forgive myself if something happened to you or the baby…”

She blushed when she felt his hand on her belly. “I’m fine, I can handle my own horse…”

Chuckling, Xibalba led his wife towards the tea table and helped her take a seat. “Wait a minute…” he placed his staff aside for the moment, then went back to the horses and, much to La Muerte’s surprise, removed the saddles and bridles from Medianoche and Blanca and gave them a pat on the flank, letting them gallop towards the wide green fields before them. However, as he released Nezmal’s bridle and gave him a path on the flank, the horse didn’t move. Xibalba walked back to the tea table to join his wife, only to be followed by the stallion.

“He seems to like you very much…” La Muerte pointed out after taking a small bite from a slice of cheesecake.

“He does.” Xibalba sighed, sitting down on the table and patting Nezmal’s nose gently. “But he is still too shy, he is still traumatized by what he lived under Itzlacol.”

“Is that why you brought him?”

“Epona said it would be good to have him interact with other horses…” he gently pushed Nezmal’s head away from the pastries. “No, no, boy. You can’t eat this.”

“Is Epona coming, by the way?”

“She said she’d take a while, there was something she had to tend to.”

Both gods continued to drink tea and accompany the drink with pastries (all the while keeping Nezmal away from the cakes), and watched as Medianoche started to gallop around, jumping and kicking into the air around Blanca while letting out loud neighs of delight. Blanca just trotted around, and he followed her. A while later, Xibalba spotted a herd of wild horses approaching at the sound of his horse’s attempts at courting. Nezmal lifted his ears in curiosity at the newcomers, and miraculously left Xibalba’s side, heading towards the heard shyly.

“How are you feeling?” the dark god asked his wife in concern. “Do you need something? Would you like some sugar or cream?”

“I’m okay, really…” she said gently, taking a sip from her tea.

“Say, La Muerte… we haven’t thought of a name for the baby.”

“Don’t you think we should wait till we know the gender?”

“I know, but the sooner we start thinking about it, the better…” sheepishly, Xibalba took out a slip of paper from his cloak. “I hope you don’t mind, but I’ve been considering some options for both genders…”

Rather than being upset, La Muerte took the slip of paper and took a peek at it, giggling. She could tell he had been working on it for a while now, there were crossed out names, and there was one that caught her attention. “Tallulah?”

“Emilio’s suggestion, don’t ask me why I added it.”

“We can’t do that to the baby.”

“I know, I just… Well, I didn’t want to hurt Emilio’s feelings.”

As both reached out for a macaroon, casually the same one, their hands touched...

He blushed when he reached out to grab a flower, only to end up taking Snow White’s hand as she reached out for the very same flower, and his heart fluttered when she giggled, her cheeks as red as his…

Xibalba’s face turned red as he retreated his hand, his heart drumming inside his chest. “I’m s-sorry, I…”

“What’s wrong?” La Muerte asked him in surprise. “We’re still married anyway, so it doesn’t really matter…”

“Yeah, but… Well…” he quickly regained his composure. “Anyway, I’m glad you’re feeling better…”

By then, Nezmal had apparently warmed up to the company of the wild horses, and he was interacting with a blue gray mare; it wasn’t long before he was jumping around like Medianoche, galloping around followed by the blue gray mare. Speaking of Medianoche, the dark god noticed he and Blanca were getting a bit to much… affectionate with each other. La Muerte got to her feet and stepped forward, giving a small whistle, to which Blanca responded by turning around and trotting towards her. Medianoche ceased in his ‘courting’ and galloped after her.

“La Muerte, what are you doing?” Xibalba grabbed his staff and left his seat to walk over next to her as she patted her horse’s head.

“Well, she’s been stuck in her stall for a long while, I think it wouldn’t do bad to…”

“Oh, no! I don’t think that’s good in your state….”

“I know, but… I think I want to stretch my legs a bit too…”

Seeing she would not budge, Xibalba thought the least thing he could do was to lend her a hand… and maybe teach her something else… “Say, La Muerte, remember the first time we had a race?”

“How wouldn’t I…?” La Muerte rolled her eyes. “You made me ride bareback, and I ended up falling off Blanca and losing consciousness.”

Xibalba felt like an idiot when he recalled it, and thought he should make up for it. After turning Ponzoña back into a snake and letting him slide into his armor, he motioned Medianoche to come closer, and climbed unto him bareback, before glancing at his wife. “How about I give you a… proper lesson this time?”

La Muerte crossed her arms, pretending to be offended. “What were you saying a while ago about my state…?”

“I’ll be here this time, you don’t have anything to worry about. I’ve never fallen off a horse in my entire life.” Medianoche snorted in disagreement, Xibalba gave him a gentle kick on the sides in embarrassment. “Come on, don’t make me look bad in front of her!” Xibalba calmed down and held out his hand to his wife, smiling. “Come on, you can trust me. I won’t let you fall.”

Although she wasn’t certain of it, La Muerte nevertheless took his hand and allowed him to help her unto Medianoche. She almost immediately clung to his neck when she felt she was going to fall off, even after he pulled her close with his arm and wrapped his wings around her.

“Don’t be afraid, it’s not that hard. It’s like normal riding, you just have to keep your balance, just without the saddle.”

“Oh, thanks! That makes me feel better!”

Chuckling, Xibalba accommodated his wife in his hold and gently kicked his horse into a walk. “Just place your legs as if they were on actual stirrups, and keep your back straight, that is the basic of all the forms of horseback riding.” He gently took La Muerte’s hands and placed them on Medianoche’s mane, motioning her to take a hold of it. “You can lead the horse with the mane as well, just don’t pull it too much.”

Reluctantly, La Muerte pulled Medianoche’s mane to the right, and stiffened when the horse moved rightwards. Medianoche soon stopped and lowered his head to have a good grazing, it had been so long ever since he was here, it was evident he wanted to enjoy it as long as it lasted. Xibalba dismounted and helped his wife get off, carrying her bridal style back to the tent just as they saw two figures approaching on horseback-wait, two?

“HOW DO I STOP?!”

”Pull the reins!”

“I’m pulling the reins!”

Zipacna?!

Indeed, soon Epona and Zipacna came into view, the formed on her palomino steed, the latter on a blue gray horse who didn’t look very happy. Finally, Zipacna’s steed came to an abrupt stop, sending its rider to the ground abruptly. Zipacna muttered under his breath as he sat up, rubbing his sore back just as Epona’s horse stopped a few steps away from the canopy, and she dismounted, giggling.

“You are not that bad! You just need a bit of practice.” She said, patting the blue gray horse’s neck gently

“No way! I’m not getting unto a horse ever again!”

Xibalba carefully placed La Muerte down on the chair, staring at his brother, then at Epona incredulously. La Muerte smiled at them, on the other hand. “Epona, Zipacna, it’s nice that you join us.”

“Sorry we took so long, I was trying to teach Zipacna how to ride a horse.”

“You… teaching him?” Xibalba had a bad feeling about this. “Since when are you two in touch?”

“Well, I was always curious about your brother since you never talked about him, so I decided to contact him myself.”

“And I simply had to meet the former object of your…” Zipacna tried to look for a proper word with La Muerte present. “…affections. I must admit, she is truly an amazing woman!”

Epona blushed. “Oh, you flatterer!”

Oh, no, there were the signs of Zipacna’s modus operandi right in front of him. Of all the goddesses he could have put his eyes on it had to be precisely Epona?! He had to do something about it before someone, Epona specifically, got hurt. He forced a grin. “Um, Zipacna, could you lend me a hand with…. Something?” Before Zipacna could say anything, Xibalba had already grabbed his feathery ear and had started to drag him towards the nearby woods, ignoring his yelps of pain.

“Why do I have the feeling they are going to fight again?” La Muerte sighed, patting her abdomen. “There goes papi, baby.”

“Since we’ll apparently wait a long time while those two settle their differences, how about we catch up on what has been happening?” Epona grinned, lifting the tea pot. “Would you like some tea?”

“OWOWOW!” Zipacna continued to yell long after his brother had taken him to a considerable distance from the canopy where Epona and La Muerte were. “Not by the ear!”

When he was certain they were out of goddesses’ earshot, Xibalba released his brother’s ear and glared at him. “Zipacna, what in tarnation are you doing here?!” he snapped with sharp teeth. He was beyond furious, he swore his tar robes had started to boil from his incensed anger, especially when Zipacna acted like nothing was wrong at all.

“What?! I just paid Epona a visit!” Zipacna shrugged, trembling under his younger brother’s glare. How ironic.

“Oh, a visit! RIGHT! Like the same kind of visits you always pay to your lovers, right?! And since when did you and Epona become so close, if I may know?!”

“Well, she kinda saved me from a Kelpie.” Zipacna chuckled nervously, trying to change the subject. “It’s a funny story, wanna hear?”

“NO!” Xibalba yelled, spreading out his wings, his feathers bristled in pure fury. “ALL I WANT TO KNOW IS WHAT INTENTIONS YOU HAVE WITH EPONA!! Complimenting her, appearing on my castle WITH her out of nowhere, and now this?! QUE DEMONIOS, ZIPACNA!”

“Hey, I don’t think you are in a position to tell me anything! Unless memory fails me, you did the same with her!”

“It was different!”

“In what sense?!”

“In case you haven’t noticed, I’m still in touch with her! I didn’t dispose of her after I got what I wanted, unlike others who just wait for the right moment, do the job and then disappear without any trace! She is not an object for you to give her hopes just to crush them later!”

Now it was Zipacna who was growing angry. “I don’t have any bad intentions! I only want to get to know her better!”

Xibalba narrowed his eyes suspiciously, crossing his arms. “Oh, right. Know her better. And by that you mean to simply satisfy your so-famous needs.”

“No!”

“Really? Give me a good reason of why I should believe you. I’m your brother I know you better than anyone in the whole universe. I know you have a big appetite when it comes to women, but this time you chose the wrong target! Do not dare denying it, because the both of us know its true!”

“For your information, I’m not as insensitive as to take my only brother’s ex-lover as MY lover!” Zipacna snapped back, his crest feathers bristling in indignation. “Besides, why does it bother you so much anyway?! You are married to La Muerte now, and Epona can take good care of herself, she is no idiot or damsel-in-distress!

“It bothers me because I don’t want you to hurt her in such a cruel way just like you do with all the women you encounter…! She doesn’t deserve that! Admit it, Zipacna, your intentions are not as uninterested as you say they are!”

“Come on, it’s not like you are a saint either! You did the same as me, remember? You also bedded lots of goddesses and then discarded them like nothing!”

That struck a nerve. Xibalba’s pupils rotated forward and he started to search through Zipacna’s mind for a few seconds until he had found what he was looking for. Once his suspicions were confirmed, he slapped Zipacna’s shoulder, hard enough to make him yelp in pain. “You jerk!” the younger god snapped. “And of course I remember those days, but you have said it so well. I USED to be like you!”

“See? Technically you really aren’t in a position to give moral lessons at all!”

“I am.” Xibalba said calmly, crossing his arms once more. “You know why. Unlike you, I actually care for a woman’s feelings. Before and after it happened I made sure not to hurt Epona’s feelings… And I did not fool or trick her into doing anything she didn’t want to do, she also felt the need to… do it.”

“So do I. Are you sure you are not actually jealous?”

“Jealous? Why? I’m married with the woman I love, the mother of my future child, I have no reason to be jealous. I told you, I care for her like a friend! I don’t want anyone to use her in such a way! I saw your thoughts, I know what you want and I know how far you’d go to get it.”

“Usually, but Epona’s different-!”

“Then treat her differently! Not like one of your sex dolls!” He glared at Zipacna again, but this time there was deep disappointment in it mixed with the anger.

“Oh, come on! She is not a sex doll! You think I’d do that to a person so close to you?!”

“Yes I do.” Xibalba’s voice was cold and stern, his expression serious. “You can go against your principles to get what you want. Like I said before, I know you far too well.” He shook his head sadly. “Mamá would be so disappointed in you… Just like I am now.”

That was a severe blow. Zipacna just stood there, completely speechless with a hurt expression. He just had to bring Selena into the conversation, had he? Who was he kidding? Xibalba had not, and would never forgive him, it was pretty evident. Why did he keep getting his hopes up just to have them crushed into pieces all over again? Zipacna’s face stiffened into an apathetic one. “If you want me to stay away from Epona, and you in general, just say it. You don’t have to hurt my feelings like that.” He didn’t react when Xibalba’s expression changed into a confused one. “I thought you ha changed, but I see you will never trust me again, so I guess we should leave it like that.” Zipacna turned around and started to walk away, avoiding his brother’s gaze.

He hadn’t meant to sound so hard. He just wanted Zipacna to respect Epona, he didn’t want him out of his life again! “Wait, I didn’t mean that!” Xibalba grabbed his brother’s shoulder, stopping him momentarily. “All I want is that you don’t use Epona in any way, she is too good and king to be fooled like that! If you are actually serious about this, then I wish you all the luck and ambition-“ much to his shock, Zipacna frowned and brushed his hand off, rejecting the gesture of comfort coldly.

“I don’t need, nor want, your pity anymore. I had enough of it. I hope you have something in mind about how you are going to explain to Epona and La Muerte about why I left just like that.” he started to walk further away once again.

“No, don’t go!” Xibalba panicked and ran after his brother, eventually turning into a ball of tar and teleporting all the way to Zipacna’s path to block his advance. “I do believe in you! That’s why I care so much! I just want to help the both of you, Zipacna! I’m afraid you might lose it.” He stopped Zipacna from ignoring and pushing past him. “All I want for you is to be happy, but I also care about Epona!” he whispered, sighing. “But I also care about Epona, I don’t want you to mess it up…”

“You think I’m made of stone? I’m not perfect, like you. Heck, I’m not even respected! Even Father acknowledged you while I didn’t even exist for him!”

“At what price?” Xibalba said bitterly, extending out his burned wing and pointing at it. “Remember this?”

Zipacna scoffed bitterly. “If you knew what he did to ME…”

“I know, Zipacna, but we were talking about Epona. I have a few suggestions for you.”

“Suggestions?” the croc-headed god raised an eyebrow. “Like what?

“You can stay and flirt a little with Epona, but if you want something serious do it the right way, I could help you with that-“

Again, Zipacna groaned in frustration. “I just want a fucking friend, didn’t I make it clear by now?!”

“-you helped me win back La Muerte’s heart, I can help you win Epona’s-“ Xibalba blinked when he realized what his brother had just said. “Wait, what did you say?”

Zipacna smacked his forehead. “I want a goddamn friend, not a lover! Unlike you, in case you haven’t noticed by now, I don’t have any ‘contacts’ outside, not even inside our pantheon! Everyone simply sees me as a joke, a clown, a lesser spirit just because I’m not all scary and intimidating like you! Epona was different! She did not judge me, she actually liked me for the way I was! And now it turns out I can’t be her friend just because YOU think I’m just going to strip her virginity like an animal who doesn’t reason! Do you think I have a frozen heart or what?! ”

Xibalba remained silent. However, soon he was trying to repress laughter as he gave his older brother an amused smile. “Seriously?” he inquired, taking a hand to his mouth.

“What’s so funny?! I don’t find it funny at all! And you don’t really know what HE did to me!”

The dark god became serious when Akrinok was mentioned. “I do. He drove you away.”

“Have you ever wondered why?!”

“Neglect…” Xibalba didn’t like how Zipacna’s tone of voice was growing more hostile, and his eyes had started to glow an icy blue. Zipacna chuckled darkly.

“If only it had been that. I can bear neglect. Lack of attention from him? That’s no big deal. But it was more than that.”

“What do you mean?”

“Don’t you remember seeing him going into my room one night a few months after mamá died?”

“What does that have to do with-?”

“Answer the question. Haven’t you asked yourself what he did that frightened me so much into running away?” Zipacna’s voice started to shake when he started to tremble. He waited a few minutes. Long, silent minutes as Xibalba stared at him in confusion, trying to understand, but failing to apparently. “Did you connect the dots?”

Xibalba had to shake his head in a negative reply. What could have happened?

Zipacna sighed. Maybe it was time for him to know once and for all. “He told me that I was nothing but a burden for you.”

“What? That’s all…?” Xibalba couldn’t finish his sentence as Zipacna turned his back on him, trembling.

“He said that you would never become strong if I kept shielding you.”

“What did he do to you?” Xibalba still didn’t understand. He had never seen any sort of scar on Zipacna; he didn’t look like he had received any slaps or whippings. He had received them every now and then, but they never were grave enough to leave any sot of scarring, and he recalled he didn’t receive them that often.

“He tortured me, not physically like he did to you.”

“B-But… how… what?”

“He showed me all the people he killed…” Zipacna closed his eyes shut as the tears started to flow down his cheeks. Even after all these years, those images were still fresh in his mind. The screams, the blood, the smoke and fire, he couldn’t forget… He had tried to forget with all his might, but it had been imprinted on his mind ever since, came back to haunt him, even. “He said it would be you next if I didn’t leave you alone. Those screams tormented me for nights! I didn’t want him to kill you!” Zipacna glared back at his brother with teary eyes. “What other choice did I have but to do as he said?! You think I didn’t want to go back to see you?! Everytime I tried the screams would come back to haunt me! Then I’d remember how he said he’d kill you in the slowest, most painful manner if I dared to return!”

“When he died, I thought we could finally be together again, I thought I could finally make up to you for having to leave you like that, and then it turned out he made you an exact copy of him! And you shut me out like a rain otter without even giving me a change to explain why I did what I did!” Zipacna turned around, yelling at full volume. “HOW WAS I SUPPOSED TO FEEL ABOUT THAT?!”

Xibalba was frozen in complete shock at the revelation. Akrinok forced him to leave? He hadn’t abandoned him by his own choice like he had thought all of this years? A sudden pang of guilt started to grow within him, and his eyes swelled up with tears. All this time… “Y-You…” he saw his brother weeping. He was weeping too, the tears making it down his cheeks. “You were… You only wanted to… protect me?” his voice was hoarse and broken.

“I even tried to think that it wasn’t really you, that Akrinok’s soul had somehow possessed you to haunt me again, but then it became evident it was YOU who was shutting me out.”

“Z-Zipacna, I… I didn’t know, I… You never told me…” Xibalba had to turn Ponzoña back into a staff to lean on it, and keep himself on his feet. “I don’t…” he didn’t know what to say anymore.

“How was I supposed to tell you when you never allowed me to?” Zipacna said bitterly, his gaze hardening more than ever. “It should have been me who was mad at you because I sacrificed lots of things for you, but I let it slip. I always let it slip because you ‘had not known, it wasn’t your fault, it was HIS fault’. That was what I kept telling myself every time you snapped and shut me out of your life just like HE would have done.”

Zipacna was caught by complete surprise when Xibalba rushed forward and wrapped his arms around his frame, sobbing and wailing, crying his heart out at full volume; he barely had time to cast a soundproof spell to keep the whole realm from hearing his brother’s cries. Xibalba could not bear the guilt, all this time thinking his brother had failed him when it was HE who failed as a brother. If only he had listened… He thought they had reconciled when Zipacna had gone to inform him of his upcoming fatherhood, but he was very wrong. He had never been so wrong in his entire life.

“I… I’m so sorry…” He eventually fell to his knees, clutching his brother’s cloak tightly. “If I had known, I swear… I would have never…” He wouldn’t be surprised if it was Zipacna who wanted nothing to do with him now. He had withstood cruel words, cold shoulders and angry glares for years, he could have very well told him to go to hell, but he never did. He always tried, again and again, to reconnect with him, and he always rebuffed him all those times.

But he felt a scaly hand on his shoulder, and a pair of wings wrapping around his body, there was familiar warmth he had no felt in a long time. Zipacna had kneeled down, and pulled him close in a protective embrace.

“There, there…” Zipacna whispered into his ear. “Don’t be such a crybaby, Balby.”

Xibalba had not heard that sentence ever since.. ever since…

Mamá… What have I done…?

Zipacna grew alarmed when a dark aura started to emanate from Xibalba, and had to release him as a dark fog formed around him. “X-Xibalba?!”

Xibalba was unresponsive. He just remained on his knees, but his green markings started to grow a sickly green, his feathers slowly started to fall off and turn into naked dragon wings, and even his face was shape shifting into a more reptilian one, much to Zipacna’s shock and horror. The fog turned into demonic-shaped shadows that slithered around the dark god like snakes wanting to coil around their prey. Something was happening to him, and it seemed like it was nothing good. “XIBALBA!” he took him by the shoulders and shook him violently. “SNAP OUT OF IT RIGHT NOW!”

Almost instantly, the fog and shadows disappeared and Xibalba’s features went back to normal, but he was still weeping.

“I am such a fool…” he whispered almost inaudibly. “I have always been so blind…”

“Stop degrading yourself, you’re pathetic!” Zipacna growled, his eyes glowing a bright blue. “The Xibalba I know never kneels to anyone, not even to the Kings!”

“The Xibalba you knew is dead…” was the reply. “Akrinok killed me the moment he took everything from me… First mamá… then y-you… The hardest blow was when he made me drive both the woman I love and my child away… He killed me when he took what I loved the most in the entire world… When I finally discovered what true love was, it was the moment I lost her…”

“But you didn’t lose her! You didn’t lose me!” Zipacna continued. “Understand it at once, you are NOT Akrinok! In fact, you are much better than him!”

Xibalba looked up at his brother with tearful eyes, shaken by his words.

“You made mistakes, that’s right, but who doesn’t?! No one it’s perfect! But at least YOU made up for those mistakes, didn’t you?! You fought hard to earn La Muerte’s trust back, didn’t you? And you NEVER lost me, you just wanted to keep me away because of something that wasn’t your fault! So what if Akrinok messed up both out lives?! In the end, he tried to make you be like him so badly he actually turned you into a person he didn’t want you to be! You are fair and honorable, you respect the woman you love, you admit when you’re wrong sometimes! So if you don’t stand up and stop pitying yourself I’ll lift you by the moustache myself!”

There was a long silence afterwards as Zipacna regained his lost breath, panting heavily and wiping the tears off his cheeks. Xibalba was staring up at him, still frozen in deep shock, until his lips curved upwards into a sad smile. “Three months ago you asked me to forgive you…” he lowered his gaze to the ground, unable to look at his brother in the eye. “I told you that I couldn’t, but… It’s not you who should have asked for forgiveness… It was me all along. Can you ever forgive my blindness?”

Zipacna smiled sadly, placing his hand on his brother’s shoulder. I have nothing to forgive you… hermanito.” He helped his brother up to his feet. “Well, we should go back before La Muerte and Epona think we were eaten by a Kelpie.”

As they headed back to the place of the date, Xibalba decided to lighten up the mood. “Hey, by the way, what was that story of the Kelpie you were telling me about?”

Chapter Text

Thankfully, they had returned to the tea table before Epona or La Muerte could have gone to look for them for taking too long. Unfortunately, La Muerte and the baby had already finished off with all the snacks, so Epona asked Zipacna to accompany her to the castle for more, he agreed only on the condition he wouldn’t have to get on a horse, and she had no other choice but to agree. Xibalba knew they were using the lack of snacks as an excuse to leave both he and his wife alone once again, and he was grateful for it. Unfortunately, soon he realized that Medianoche and Blanca, as well as Nezmal, were gone. He could guess they had gone with the herd of wild horses, leaving the two gods no other choice but to go look for them.

Xibalba refused to let La Muerte walk too much, so he opted to pick her up bridal style as tightly as he could and fly around Epona’s realm at an altitude high enough to see the perimeter, but low enough to land quickly if there was an emergency. Now that La Muerte could see Epona’s realm from this perspective, she realized it had lots of prairies and a few patches of forests except for the one near her palace, and a few lakes located there and there, but the largest one was the nearest at the moment, and the most likely place for the herd to have gone.

“Are those horses bred by Epona or wild horses?”” she couldn’t help but ask, having to raise her voice due the sound of the wind at this height and Xibalba’s wings flapping muffling the sound of her voice.

“It’s the same thing, her jurisdiction expands to all types in the Equid family, and that includes mules, donkeys, etcetera!” Xibalba explained. “But most of them roam freely around, the only ones in her stables are either expecting mares, or injured and ill horses. I guess you have heard of horse whispering, haven’t you?!”

“Sort of!”

“Well, Epona is a strong believer of it! Why do you think she has never put a bridle on the horses she mounts?!” Xibalba caught sight of a familiar speck of black among other color specks in the shore of the lake. “There he is!” He tightened his hold on La Muerte and started to descend, gliding down to a clearing nearby, careful not to project his shadow near the horses unless he wanted to scare them away. He landed carefully on the grass, and placed La Muerte on her feet like she were a fragile piece of glass, much to her annoyance.

“I’m not that fragile, you know!” she growled gently.

“You’re not, but the baby kind of is, in case you forgot.” Xibalba retorted.

“I know, but you don’t need to overreact.”

“You would have rather walked all the way here?” he didn’t want to upset her again. “Come on, let’s get our horses back before nightfall.”

La Muerte didn’t protest as Xibalba gently grabbed her hand and led her through the trees towards the edge of the lake, but she noticed he was a bit tense, especially when the lake came into view, he looked at the waters as if he knew something would come out of it. The herd of wild horses was drinking from the lake, Medianoche, Blanca and Nezmal among them, but La Muerte noticed there were not only horses there in that place. There were a few brown donkeys, some beautiful white unicorns with glistening coats and even winged horses bathing themselves in the lake like swans.

Xibalba took his fingers to his lips and let out a whistle. Medianoche lifted his ears and his head, walking over to his master with some difficulty due to the other horses. “What am I going to do with you, chico….?” The dark god sighed in dismay, patting his horse’s neck.

La Muerte was about to whistle to Blanca when suddenly she noticed shadows moving from the depth of the lakes. The horses were momentarily startled, stepping away from the banks and the winged horses taking flight, but they weren’t frightened enough to flee. Blanca and Nezmal took advantage of the momentary calm to head over to the two gods, but Xibalba realized what was going on and grabbed La Muerte’s arm. “Well, my dear, we have our horses, let’s go.” Much to his frustration, she released her arm off his hold.

“Wait, what’s moving in the water?”

“Probably some fish, let’s go.” He tried and failed to take his wife away, this time she took a few steps closer. “La Muerte, don’t approach wild horses!”

“I’m not approaching them, I just want to see what are those things…”

“They’re Kelpies!”

A few seconds later, four beautiful black horses with dripping manes and tails poked their heads out of the water and then stepped unto land, but surprisingly they continued to be soaked wet even after minutes passed. The horses regained their calm and started to disperse, except for a few mares who turned on the Kelpies and started swashing their tails at them in an almost flirty way. The Kelpies, apparently all stallions, were soon trotting after the mares in heat along the shore.

“La Muerte!”

The goddess sighed in irritation as she finally ceded and followed Xibalba away from the scene, Medianoche, Blanca and Nezmal going along on their own. When they were back on the clearing, Xibalba looked at his wife annoyed. “La Muerte, what were you thinking?!”

“I didn’t do anything bad, I just wanted to see how Kelpies were like!” she retorted.

“Those are only glamours, their real appearances are not that pretty!”

“I didn’t even disturb them, I don’t see why you are so upset about this! Besides, I thought Epona said her Kelpies were not aggressive!”

“They’re not aggressive with people they know, but you are a complete stranger to them! Heck, the first time I touched one of those I managed to save my hand because I only had to slide it out of my glove!”

La Muerte rolled her eyes in annoyance. “You’re exaggerating again.”

“I’m worried about you and the baby, okay?!” Xibalba didn’t know why he was acting like this again himself; he guessed it was the pre-parental stress, he didn’t know how La Muerte managed to stay so calm when he was worrying over little things that he thought might affect the baby. He managed to calm down as he spoke again. “I’m sorry, I just… Well, I’m still getting used to the idea of fatherhood, and I want everything to be perfect…”

La Muerte softened up a bit. He was just worried about her, she couldn’t blame him for it. She smiled lightly and ran a hand down his cheek. “Did I ever mention you’re cute when you’re nervous?”

He blushed deeply at her touch, and smiled goofily at the warm sensation of her hand touching him, his wings limp and touching the ground. Medianoche rolled his eyes and nudged his shoulder to make him react. Xibalba regained his composure, but he was still blushing. “Once, I t-think… how about we go back? I think Epona and Zipacna must have returned by now…”

“Are you going to carry me again or are you going to let me walk this time?”

“If you’d like to walk I can’t oppose, unless you want me to carry you…”

He led her towards the same way they had come from, followed by the three horses, and they walked unto a beautiful field of pink and yellow flowers. The smell of pollen was overwhelming, and La Muerte let out a sneeze. She felt the baby faintly squirming, like she had been startled by it. Still, it seemed to be a nice place to rest… There was a beautiful oak tree just ahead, going up the small hill, and it gave a refreshing shade beneath its thick, healthy branches. Wiping the sweat off her brow, La Muerte followed Xibalba up the hill, in turn followed by the horses, but when they were by the tree she started to pang from the heat and exhaustion, her feet aching. Xibalba looked back at her in concern. “Are you tired? We can stop for a while if you’d like…”

La Muerte took her giant hat off her head and placed it down temporally. “I guess it would do good…” She sat down on the flowers underneath the tree, and lay down on top of them like pillows while letting out a deep breath. Xibalba soon lay down next to her, while the horses walked a bit further away to either rest or roll on top of the flowers, on Nezmal’s case.

The two gods just stayed underneath the shade of the tree, recovering their breaths and resting from the sun’s shining rays, the breeze gently caressed Xibalba’s feathers, giving him a ticklish but refreshing sensation.

“You know what this reminds me of?” La Muerte sighed in nostalgia.

“What?”

“I used to look for shapes in the clouds with mamá, and then my little sister when we were young. Sometimes I used to do it with a friend…”

“A friend? Who?”

“A boy. He was really sweet, even though I never learned his name…”

Xibalba couldn’t help but feel a bit jealous when he heard there had apparently been another man in his wife’s life, but she had been a child, he was probably someone she hadn’t seen in a long time. He looked at the fluffy white clouds, and tried to find a shape. “I think that one has the shape of a… bird.”

La Muerte glanced at the cloud he had pointed at, and found a different shape. “It has the shape of a chicken.”

“Chicken? I thought it was a songbird.” He took another look at it, and saw it had, indeed, the shape of a chicken. “Diablos…”

La Muerte giggled. “It’s all a matter of imagination. Open your mind, don’t stay with just the first thing that comes into your mind.”

Sighing in dismay, Xibalba glanced up at the clouds again and tried to find another shape. Another passed on top of them, and he stared at it thoroughly, until he managed to find something. “That one looks like a horse…” On closer inspection… “It has the shape of Medianoche.”

“I saw Blanca, but you got close.”

He had to admit, it was fun. He had not done this in a long time, ever since he lost contact with Snow White… He and La Muerte continued to look up at the clouds, finding shapes in them, watching as sometimes birds flew by above them, and La Muerte would use them to her advantage. A while later, Xibalba had leaned in closer to his wife and pulled her closer with his wing, wrapping it around her to keep her warm as he whispered into her ear. “Look at that cloud…” he pointed at a small white cloud that was passing by just over them. “What shape do you see?”

La Muerte glanced at the cloud, and soon she started to make out a particular shape that made her heart flutter a bit. “It’s… It’s a baby…”

“It’s our baby…” Xibalba smiled at her, placing his hand on her slightly bulging out abdomen. “She hasn’t been born yet and she’s already the light of my eyes… Just like you…”

She was a bit moved, he said the sweetest things when he wanted to… The refreshing shade and breeze, the warmth of her husband’s embrace, and the smell of the flowers soon lulled La Muerte to sleep, snuggling against Xibalba’s arms in delight. Xibalba smiled and kissed her forehead, his hand still on top of her abdomen in a protective way. It wouldn’t hurt to sleep a bit, would it…? They both needed the rest, after all, La Muerte had walked quite a lot, and his wings were still a bit tired of having to fly over Epona’s realm. With a yawn, Xibalba fell asleep, holding both his wife and unborn child closer…

She walked into the clearing she had found a few years ago, it was her favorite place not only because of the tranquility and the companionship of the animals that often went to graze, but because of the flowers that grew there. They had the peculiarity that they would change color sometimes, though the reason was still a mystery. Sometimes they were blue, others red, yellow, pink, and in rare occasions they would change into two colors at once. This time, the flowers were of a beautiful shade of purple with a bit of green blending in the tips. It was a rather bizarre combination for some people, but the flowers were so beautiful she didn’t mind such combination.

La Muerte walked into the field of flowers hoping to find some of her animal friends, but they seemed to be avoiding the clearing today for some reason. She noticed some of them were staring warily at the empty, dry log in the middle of the clearing, as if they thought something was lurking there. Curious, La Muerte started to walk closer to the log, despite the protesting- or maybe warning- snorting, squeaks and chirps from the wildlife hidden around the clearing. She took a peek into the hole of the trunk…

There was a small, purple snake inside. It was unusual, though; she saw a head, but when she followed the body with her gaze but it ended in another head, instead of a tail. The snake looked dangerous, and yet when she poked her head it tried to hide underneath the dry leaves it was using as bedding.

“It’s okay, little guy, I’m not going to hurt you…” La Muerte whispered as she reached out into the hole to gently pick the snake up, and much to her surprise it didn’t try to bite her, it started to tremble when she carefully took it out of its trunk, attempting to slide off her grasp to no avail. “There, there, it’ll be alright…”

After a few minutes passed, the little snake realized the girl meant no harm, and both heads looked at her shyly. La Muerte smiled at it.

“You are lonely, aren’t you? Do you want to be my friend?” She stroked one of the snake’s heads, and the other head started pushing the other aside to have some stroking, jealous. Soon the two heads were competing for her attention, snapping lightly at each other. La Muerte giggled again…

She started to shift awake to find herself in a protective cocoon. When she tried to release herself, she was pulled further in; it took her a while to remember she had fallen asleep in Xibalba’s embrace, and another while to realize he had wrapped both wings around her, and he was holding her in an embrace, not to mention he was snoring. La Muerte giggled at the sight, making Xibalba smile in his sleep. She wondered if he had heard her, or if he was having a pleasant dream. With a bit of effort, La Muerte managed to get free of Xibalba’s hold without waking him up, and his wings instinctively wrapped around himself, she wondered if it was an instinctive thing.

La Muerte was startled when she felt something touch her arm, and turned around to find Blanca nuzzling her arm, and then turned rightwards, exposing her back, as if telling her to get on. La Muerte glanced back at Xibalba’s sleeping figure, reluctant to leave him alone, but Blanca snorted and shook her head, telling her to get on her back, as if she wanted to take her somewhere. Reluctantly, she picked up her sombrero and put it on again, not before kneeling down to plant a small kiss on Xibalba’s cheek-again making him smile in his sleep-and went to climb unto Blanca’s back. The white mare started to walk, then fastened into a small trot towards a direction. When La Muerte looked back, she saw Medianoche and Nezmal were not following them; they would apparently wake for Xibalba to wake up too.

Blanca took her through the forest gently, and she managed to keep her balance without the saddle and bridle, gently gripping on Blanca’s mane as she trotted, recalling Xibalba’s earlier lessons. Blanca trotted through open, golden-painted gates that led to a beautiful castle, it almost looked like the ones she had imagined in the fairytales her mother would read to her as a child. Blanca’s hooves clopped against the marble stone path and trotted around the marble white fountain of the main courtyard before stopping before a flight of stairs. La Muerte got the message and climbed down with a bit of difficulty, trying her best not to make too much effort. Still, the baby had been quite tranquil for a while, squirming every now and then, no much more than that. She was probably napping.

As some stable hands led Blanca away to the stables, La Muerte climbed up the stairs and entered the castle. With one look around, La Muerte knew this was Epona’s castle; there were hanging carpets, statues and paintings of horses wherever she looked, and most of the paintings looked like they had been hand-made. La Muerte walked down the hallowed hall of the castle, and found one of the doors that led to a small balcony open, she guessed it was a sign that she could go in.

The balcony was beautiful, and it overlooked over a cliff and green valley extending over miles. All around it was adorned with plants and beautiful flowers growing on wild vines that were neatly trimmed. Like she had expected, Epona was waiting there, sitting on a round white table, with another empty chair waiting for her to sit down. With the sun shining down and the cool breeze from over the mountains, it would be pleasant to sit outside and have a ‘small’ snack.

“La Muerte, I was waiting for you.” Epona smiled, and motioned for the other chair. “Would you like to take a seat?”

La Muerte smiled as she walked closer and took the offered seat. “Thank you.” There were small sandwiches and a wide variety of cakes and pastries on a silver tray that took up pretty much the available space on the table, except for a small space where cups of tea and the teapot were placed. Without further ado, the two goddesses tucked in, though La Muerte ate much more due to having to eat for two. The cakes were moist and full of flavor.

“Did you and Xibalba enjoy your nap?” Epona inquired taking a sip of her tea.

“Well, I think we both needed it, I feel much more refreshed now.” La Muerte swallowed the mouthful of fudge cake in her mouth before replying, minding her manners.

“You guys seem to be on better terms.”

“Sort of… I mean, I’m still a bit hurt for what he did, but…”

“How did he apologize, by the way? Knowing him, he probably did something incredibly crazy, apart from taking such a disguise and risk himself.”

“He snuck into my room, and we talked…”

“Wow. That’s bold.”

“I don’t know how he did it, but his words touched my heart… He sounded so sincere, so regretful, and when he talked to the baby I could feel such affection and love in his voice… If anyone had told me he could be that caring and loving back when I only married him to protect my father and kingdom I wouldn’t have believed it.”

“He’s not the same man I met. You changed him, La Muerte, in a good way. I’ve never seen him so devoted to a woman before…”

La Muerte placed her cup down. “Epona, I’d like to ask you something. I want you to be completely honest with me.”

“What is it?”

“When you met Xibalba, what did you think of him? I know you and him have history, I want you to tell me your opinion about him. Didn’t you ever feel anything for him?”

Epona was caught completely off by the question. She let out a deep sigh, and for the first time in the conversation she spoke seriously. “He was as when you knew him for the first time, but I met a side of him that very few knew. While true that he was cruel, with no regard for others and could kill in cold-blood, he was respectful and, when he wanted to, a gentleman. I knew he was not truly evil, he had gone through so many things that he closed off to everyone in fear of getting hurt again. However, I could tell he had a compassionate side when he met Medianoche, I knew there was a heart underneath those layers of tar.”

“As for our history, I don’t have much to say about it. While we became emotionally attached, we never got to something serious. He didn’t want to be tied; he valued his freedom over all, just like me. We did have some… sexual intercourse, but it I only saw him as a good friend, nothing more, and I could tell he felt the same anyway. It wasn’t until he wrote to me asking me for a horse for his new wife that I was actually surprised, I never thought he’d ever get married. A few days later I met you and I wondered thought you were lucky, I didn’t learn the exact circumstances of your marriage until much later, but I imagined he had managed to win your heart with his tender side.”

“As time went on, I started to see major changes in him. He’d often talk about you, praising your kindness and your strength, and eventually he talked like he were describing an angel, that was when I realized it had finally happened, he had fallen in love. Then when he drove you away… I didn’t recognize him. He was heart-broken, I only saw the shadow of what he once was, and no matter what I did he just didn’t want to move on. He wanted you back. And well, you know what happened next, he learned you were going to bear him a child and became determined to make up for his mistake no matter what.”

La Muerte had listened intently to Epona’s history, and couldn’t help but be moved by the seriousness in her voice. She was telling the truth.

“La Muerte, don’t doubt him. He loves you like he never loved anyone in his entire life… Well, his mother was the exception, but that’s natural. The point is he would go to hell and back for you, never doubt it…”

La Muerte was about to reply when suddenly two dark figures, one of tar and the other of feathers and ash, ran into the balcony. Xibalba was panting heavily, and wiped some sweat off his brow as he glared at La Muerte, but there was worry behind the mild anger. “La Muerte, for goodness sake! Don’t scare me like that! I thought a Kelpie had carried you and the baby away! I nearly had a heart attack until Zipacna slapped some sense into me!”

“Literally.” Zipacna chuckled at the last part.

La Muerte glanced at him apologetically. “I’m sorry, Xibalba, but Blanca just insisted…”

“It’s okay, my dear… Just leave me a note or something the next time you wander away…” Xibalba panted, trying to regain his breath. He couldn’t really stay mad at her right now.”

Zipacna noticed the sun was setting. “Well, lovebirds, hate to ruin your marital therapy, but the sun is about to set.”

La Muerte gasped in horror. They had lost the track of time! Her father would be upset! “X-Xibalba, we have to go!” She quickly left her seat and grabbed Xibalba’s hand, dragging him back the way they had come, not before glancing at Zipacna and Epona once more. “Thanks for everything again, guys!”

“Hey, w-wait!” Xibalba protested as he was dragged away. “Let me grab at least an éclair!”

As the two gods left, Epona giggled and Zipacna giggled as they shared a small fist bump.

Chapter Text

Soon after their horses were saddled up, La Muerte and Xibalba left for the Land of the Remembered as quickly as they could. Zipacna, however, stayed behind, on Epona’s insistence mostly. He sat down in La Muerte’s former place, chuckling at the idea of his brother being actually dragged just like that by a woman, he was happy for him. Their little plan was working, after all.

“Well, I think that it went pretty well.” He commented. “Obviously, it would have been even better if Xibalba hadn’t panicked like that.” Zipacna snickered at the memory of Xibalba looking around frantically for his wife and yelling things about Kelpies.

“It was smart on your part to send Blanca to get La Muerte, you know.” Epona complimented, taking a sip from her cream tea. “It wasn’t obvious at all, it was subtle.”

“I may not be good with horses, but I know when to stay hidden. Besides, Xibalba’s face was priceless!” Zipacna burst out into laughter this time. “He thought a Kelpie had eaten La Muerte, and I had to calm him down.”

The goddess of horses giggled. “I can imagine it!” she became worried. “You think La Muerte will give Xibalba another chance? You know, forgive him?”

“As far as I could tell, she already has. She only has to let him know.”

“Hmm… I guess so. Xibalba changed so much ever since he married her… And after he found out, from you now that I recall, that he is going to become a father.”

“It caught him by complete surprise, though I’m not really surprised either. I mean, he’s a bit potent; the difference between him and me is that he used a condom when he was not married… But he and La Muerte were married, so… Well, you know…”

Epona noticed he was getting red in embarrassment. She decided to tease him a bit about it. “Mmm… He didn’t always wear a condom, if I remember well.” She giggled internally when Zipacna’s face became redder, almost giving him a pinkish shade. “But yes, I know what you mean. It was meant to happen.”

Zipacna changed the subject before he started to sweat. “I… I haven’t seen the nursery he is making, but I bet he hasn’t picked a wall color yet.”

“La Muerte thinks it’s going to be a girl, you might as well have a little niece soon.”

“Well, she does have the maternal instinct advantage, so I guess I’d bet for a girl for the time being as well.”

“Count me in.” Epona looked at the rising moon from behind the mountains, and caught a glimpse of Kelpies breaching in one of the lakes, playing amongst each other. “I think Xibalba would like a boy, but knowing him he’ll be a great father regardless of the gender.” She remained silent for a few moments, recalling there was something else that was bothering her. “I hope things will turn out smoothly. After Xibalba beat Itzlacol in that race, he didn’t show up in the Land of the Remembered for all these days, but… I don’t know, I wonder if he might have planned something meanwhile. From what I’ve heard, if he has free time he will take advantage of it to plan things out to his favor. Not to mention King Sol obviously wishes La Muerte would end up with Itzlacol.”

“Don’t remind me of that redhead!” Zipacna growled, starting to feast on the pastries. “I’ve been wanting to run a spear through him for centuries! Really, I don’t see what Sol sees in him that he likes him so much!”

“I don’t know either…” Epona left her seat, and walked towards the hall. Zipacna went after her, both out of respect, and because it was getting cold out there. Epona thought she heard something growling. She glanced back at Zipacna, who smiled sheepishly, blushing. She smiled at him. “Are you hungry? Now that I recall, with all those movements and Xibalba dragging you away from the snacks you didn’t have any time to eat. I could ask my chefs to prepare you something. If you can stay a little bit longer, that is.”

Zipacna had the feeling she was inviting him to dinner. “Well, I guess I wouldn’t mind… If you don’t mind, I mean…” he scratched the back of his head awkwardly, lowering his ears.

“No! I mean, you are always welcome here and you can stay as much as you want. I know that your realm isn’t exactly… Well…” She struggled to find a word that wouldn’t offend him. “Joyful or… Welcoming, at all. I’ve never seen it, but I heard about it from others.”

“Say it, its hell.” Zipacna sighed in dismay. “Literally, unfortunately.”

Epona giggled and spoke in a playful manner as she led her guest down the corridor and towards the dining hall. “Well, it’s a good thing that its ruler isn’t like that. Or is he?”

He blushed. “I guess I’m not. Sometimes I think I was only given the realm because there was no one else available, or no one wanted it at all…”

“Hmm… You must be all alone down there, Zipacna. It must be horrible.”

“It is. I mean, the imps I have as servants are annoyingly clumsy!”

“I can imagine it, actually…”

The two gods entered the dining hall. Like the rest of the castle, it was made of green, golden and ivory polished marble, illuminated with candles on the walls. The table was very long, and there were two chairs on each end, with a bowl of fruits in the exact middle. There was a chimney burning brightly on one side, and on the other the windows were closed, but the beautiful starry night sky could still be seen. The light of the fireplace reflected beautifully on the marble pillars around the room. Each god took their seat at the end of the table.

“Hey, Xibalba mentioned something about you travelling a lot. Is it true?” Epona inquired.

“It is.” Zipacna shrugged.

“Did you have a good experience? Were there any special places that stuck in your mind and heart? I mean… After seeing so many places you must have your favorites.”

“So far, my favorite place was France. I loved the champagne, though I can’t say the same for the food. I mean, they serve you a cookie-cutter little pieces of things! And here I was wondering why French always look so famished.”

“I guess you received a French kiss before you left, didn’t you?” Epona asked him casually, resting her chin on her hands. “I mean, it is France.”

“Err….” Zipacna blushed deeply. “Sort of… Hehe…” he chuckled nervously. Soon after, Epona’s servants-much to his surprise, all female centaurs-brought dinner. Epona was content with some fruit ice cream, while Zipacna was served a big cut of meat, but the two of them drank a bit of champagne to pass the time. “Say, Zipacna, sorry about what happened with that horse. I don’t know what went wrong; I gave you the calmest steed... Maybe something spook him, but you need some practice too.”

“He could have gotten spooked of me.” Zipacna commented, taking a big bunch of meat into his mouth.

“You?”

“Heck, that Nezmal guy took a look at me and took off like a bullet!”

“I guess I’ll see him around sometime, he’s still a bit shy.” Epona thought for a moment. “What should we do next, Zipacna? I don’t know why, but I have the feeling we’ll have to keep an eye on Xibalba. The ten days expire tomorrow, and I can bet the first thing Itzlacol is going to do is to go to see La Muerte. And I can assure you he won’t be very happy to see Osvaldo… Well, Xibalba, again.”

“Hell, of course he won’t. I mean, he beat him on a horse race. That is a reason good enough for Itzlacol to have a grudge against him.”

“No, it’s not only about that…” Epona fidgeted with her ice cream a bit. “I just have a very bad feeling… Something like when horses predict a storm.”

“Oh… You mean when they go find shelter? I have never understood why horses are always released when such things happen.”

Epona rolled her eyes. “You don’t understand, do you? They feel that a storm is coming at least an hour before it hits. It can be sunny, but in one hour a storm may strike… and they feel it. That’s how I feel now. I feel like something it’s just not… right. About Itzlacol and Xibalba. We have to keep an eye on Xibalba, even if Itzlacol doesn’t know about his true identity.”

“I’m with you on that one. I know who might be able to help us with this.”

“Who?”

Zipacna grinned as he lifted his glass of champagne. “The Candlemaker, of course. The Book of Life records everything that happens in its pages.”

Epona smiled in delight. She had heard stories about it, but she had never actually seen it, since she belonged to a different pantheon. “Zipacna, you are a genius!” she grew a bit hesitant. “Well, that would technically count as stalking, but what Xibalba doesn’t know, won’t hurt him.”

“What he doesn’t know might save him, actually.” Zipacna chuckled.

Still, she pouted. “Hmm… I hate to do this to him, but it’s the only way we can make sure he is safe, I guess… Unless YOU move with Xibalba, but after the argue you had I doubt Xibalba would let you.”

“Heck, he’d probably slam the door on my nose, but he is not as sore with me as before.”

“I know… And I also know about why you argued.”

Zipacna froze. “You do?”

“Don’t worry, I didn’t hear any of it, but I’m no fool. I noticed Xibalba’s expression when he saw you with me.”

“He sort of thinks I’m going to dump you later on. But come on, it’s not like we’re dating, we’re just friends…!” Zipacna’s tone grew serious. “But then it escalated into something a bit more… personal.”

“You?” Epona inquired after wiping some whipped cream off her lips with a napkin. “Dump me later on?” She knew what he meant, but she wanted to hear him explaining.

“Well…” Zipacna’s face turned red. “I guess you’ve heard of my reputation of courting girls and then… Well, you know the rest… But I’d never do that to you! Come on, Xibalba would murder me! Besides… I really like you as a friend. You’re funny to be around…”

Epona giggled. “I’m the funny one to be around? Think of how I feel around you, you clumsy dork!” she said playfully, making him blush. “I wonder why people are annoyed by you… I mean, it’s obvious why good people are so rare these days. Every person with a good sense of humor might go extinct; people just don’t appreciate that anymore… I actually enjoy it.” A while later, they were done with their meals, and both let out subtle burps, though on Zipacna’s part it was a bit more loud. Both blushed in deep embarrassment before Zipacna managed to calm down.

“I’ll come around more often, my dear!” he grinned, licking his lips. “Your chefs are simply exceptional!”

“As I said before, you are always welcome.”

“Thanks.”

Epona grinned. “With one small condition…”

“What is it?”

“That you will allow me to come over to your place every now and then.”

Zipacna hesitated momentarily. “Certainly… If you don’t mind being over 200 grades Celsius.”

“Are you kidding me? I love heat! Literally, I do! If the temperature gets lower, even if it’s just a few grades, I just have to start a mini fire or get warm somehow.” Epona sighed in dismay. “Imagine me in winter month… I’m literally a frozen mummy, I can’t move from all the blankets and clothing I have on. The warmer, the better, but I guess that your castle is endurable enough to stay at…”

“Oh…”

“Effectively, Zipacna, I hate the cold.”

“How ironic, I love it.” The crocodilian god chuckled. “I’m always melting down there.”

“Oh my… then I guess that your castle, or at least your bedroom, must be really cold.”

“Sort of.”

“How? Some sort of spell to make it cooler? Here it rains almost everyday. Not that much, only a few minutes, but still…” Epona sighed.

“Considering you live in a forest, it’s quite of understandable.”

“And considering that you live in the center of this world, I think it’s obvious why it’s so hot down there.” Epona noticed there was still a bit of ice cream left in her cup. Maybe it wouldn’t hurt… Zipacna had said he loved the cold, and he had already finished his cut of meat, so perhaps he’d like a little desert. She took the small spoonful of fruity ice cream and teleported to his side, leaning the spoonful closer to him. “Here, try this.”

Zipacna accepted the ice cream into his mouth. A cold party of perfectly blended flavors of different fruits overcame him, and he smiled I delight. “It’s delicious.” The cold temperature of the treat reacted to the heat of his body, and he blew some vaporized smoke off his nostrils, startling Epona lightly.

“How did you do that?!” She inquired.

“Well, I’m hot, and this is cold.”

Epona started to laugh. “Yeah, you are hot alright…” she giggled playfully.

“I was actually talking about my body temperature…” Zipacna blushed, smiling sheepishly. “But yeah, you’re right.”

“What did you think I was talking about? … Something else in mind?”

“Not really.”

“You know, those words coming out of a man’s mouth usually sound weird, but now that I’ve seen you blow out smoke, nothing seems odd to me anymore. You blew me away with that, I can’t imagine how steamy your realm would be if actual rain fell on it.” Epona leaned on the table, giving Zipacna a playful glance. “Two words. Perfect sauna.”

Zipacna chuckled, leaning back on the chair. “I can imagine it.”

“You know, I have thousands of horses, and most of them need horseshoes… made with iron at extremely high temperatures. With normal fire it takes a long time to make a single horseshoe. Do you think you could lend me, or rather, my farriers a hand with some extra heat? Maybe a bit of lava?”

The Ruler of the Cursed scratched his chin in thought, his crest feathers bristling and flattening unconsciously. Epona had noticed he did it when he was thinking about something. “I guess I could do something useful with that lava that is always leaking from the rivers near my castle…”

Epona blinked. “Hold on. Lava… river? As in… an actual, flowing river but made of lava?”

“Eyup.” He stared at her like he were surprised at the question, to him it was a common thing while the concept was foreign to his companion. “Lots of volcanoes plus cracks in the earth and rocks equal to lava rivers.” He felt a small chill down his spine when Epona grinned in ecstasy.

“Expect me by your door in the next few days, you’ll have a guest soon.” She said.

“S-Sure… just let me make a few adjustments to keep the lava from overflowing.”

“Overflowing?”

“You know, obsidian fences and bridges to keep it from entering my castle.”

“Xibalba helps you with that, right?”

Zipacna nodded. That was one of the reasons Xibalba had no other choice but to keep in touch with him during the time they were estranged. Zipacna needed the obsidian his brother harvested, while Xibalba was in need of some minerals and types of rock that could only be found in the Land of the Cursed.

“Hmmm…” Epona thought for a moment. “I don’t know why Zipacna, but I kind of see you like… the disorganized type of guy. Could you describe your study in one single word?”

It took him a while to find an appropriate word. “Labyrinth.”

Epona tried, but failed to contain a laugh. “Come on, it can’t be that bad…!” she noticed he didn’t have any humor on his expression. “… Is it?” Zipacna shrugged. “Oh… I could lend you a hand, if you want. With the paperwork and everything, it’s overwhelming. No big deal, I mean.”

“That would be nice on your part, but you must have things to do yourself, my dear…”

Epona winked. “What do you think about my proposal to help me with the fire that I need for the horseshoes? I’ll never manage to get on a horse again, but that doesn’t mean that I can’t ask other things from you, if it’s okay with you, that is…”

“It’s alright, as long as I don’t have to ride one, I’m fine with it.”

“Well, you can’t blame me for trying…”

“Don’t worry, I can even help you forge some horseshoes…”

“Thank you…” Suddenly, Epona noticed that the moon had long risen and was almost at its summit, if not a bit past it. She panicked when she recalled there was something important she had to tend to. “IT’S PAST MIDNIGHT?!”

Zipacna was startled by the sudden yell, nearly falling back on his chair before managing to remain his balance with his wings. “W-What is it?! Do you have to do something?!”

“Oh! I usually go to sleep early, but… Oh my gosh, what day is it today?!”

“Well, considering it’s midnight, we’re technically on June 23^rd officially right now!”

“I forgot! I have to go, Zipacna! It’s urgent!”

“D-Don’t worry! I do have to take my leave, anyway…!” he was freaking out by how she was acting at the moment.

“I forgot a few mares were going to foal today, or rather yesterday, in my stables! What a horse goddess I am! I have to go and check on them!”

“Do you need any help?”

“Only if you want to attend a horse birth… Well, by this time they could have already given birth, but I have to make sure the foal and its mother are okay.”

“I think I can handle it…”

Epona chuckled. “I’ll get to see how strong you actually are, and how much you can handle.”

“I guess so…”

Epona led Zipacna out of the dining hall, down the halls and outside towards the stables in the lower level. All the stalls were spacious, and a few were occupied by horses of all breeds, sizes and colors, illuminated by lamps and filled with straw. She couldn’t help it; she liked Zipacna’s company. He was funny and had sense of humor, something one couldn’t find in men these days. Xibalba was unfortunately a sort of example; he did have his sense of humor, but it was mild and often dark.

“So…” Zipacna tried to look for a topic to talk about. “How is a horse birth like? I’ve never seen one with my own eyes…”

“Most people find it nasty and messy, but it’s actually pretty fast. I have the feeling they won’t need any assistance tonight, though, I just need to check if the new foals are alright.” Epona explained, her suspicions confirmed when they arrived at the stalls where the pregnant mares were and found it was surprisingly quiet. She took a look inside one of the stalls, and smiled.

“Who are the mothers, by the way?”

Still smiling, Epona motioned Zipacna to get closer. Three mares had foaled tonight, but they were all in separate stalls. The first was an all-black thoroughbred mare with two white half pasterns in her back legs; her foal was an equally black male foal with a white blaze on his face. The second mare was white with a fading off gray in her rear, and her female foal was a chestnut tobiano color. Lastly, there was an Arabian gray blue mare, though her foal-apparently a male-was a surprisingly contrasting, reddish color with black stockings. The first and second foals were still resting on the ground, half-covered amniotic fluid as their mothers licked it off them, stimulating them to stand up, while the third foal was already walking on his feet and around his mother.

“Woah, they’re cute…” Zipacna had to admit these little horses were cute, though he couldn’t’ help but shiver when he saw the placenta still hanging from the first two mares. “…All covered in fluid and trying to stand up…”

“That one was born earlier.” Epona pointed at the reddish foal, which by then had started to suckle from his mother. “He already stands and plays around, and the mother is more active than the others.”

“What about the other two?”

“Probably about thirty or twenty minutes ago, they’re still getting used to the outside world yet.”

“Now that we’re on it, mind if I ask who are the parents of Xibalba’s horse?”

Epona sighed in remembrance. “His grandfather was a Kelpie, that’s why he is so exceptional. As for his parents, such a fabulous horse could only come from the finest mare and stallion.”

“And those are…?”

The horse goddess motioned Zipacna to follow her, leading him further into the stables, until they reached a much bigger stall than the others. Zipacna glanced inside and saw the most beautiful mare he had ever seen. Her coat was midnight black, and it glistened under the lamps beautifully, her eyes were like shining emeralds, and her mane and tail were beautifully curled. The mare was apparently elderly, but she still had an air of grace and elegance that had once characterized her.

“Is that his mother?” he inquired. What a silly question, of course she had to be. “What breed is she?”

“Thoroughbred Friesian, but she mated with a percheron. Though he must be out, I haven’t seen him for a while.”

“Makes sense, I always thought Medianoche was a bit too big for a normal freesia, when I first saw him I thought he was a draft horse…”

“Everyone thinks that at first glance…” Epona patted the mare’s beck gently. “This lady here is not that young anymore, but she still radiates beauty and pride. Medianoche was her only foal.”

“Really? What about his father? Any particular traits I should know about?”

“Well…” Epona had not seen that stallion around that much anymore, which made her think he had disappeared long ago, but she still remembered him clearly. “He had a dark gray coat with black mane… But he never came to the stables, he was wild at heart and was always wandering around. I rarely see him anymore, if at all.”

“Hey, if you never see him how come he impregnated…” Zipacna recalled he didn’t know how this mare was called. “What’s her name?”

“Camaria. My intention was to breed these two from the very beginning.”

“How did you do it?”

Epona smiled in remembrance as she stroked Camaria’s head, to which the mare replied with a gentle snort. “I released Cami and… Well…I guess it was love at first sight.”

“Didn’t you follow them? You just let her roam free and he came…?”

“I did interfere a little bit. Have you heard about horse whispering?”

Zipacna nodded.

“Well, the moment I sent Blanca over to Xibalba I was also thinking on Medianoche. I knew he would like her.”

“I have heard about it, so I wouldn’t be surprised if Blanca comes with a little surprise later on too…” Zipacna chuckled at the idea of a little Medianoche galloping around.

She winked. “Let’s say that it was kind of intentional, and one of my attempts to have the best foal.”

“Wouldn’t it have been easier to ask Xibalba and La Muerte if they would be okay with Blanca having a foal? If she isn’t pregnant already, that is. I mean, they had to do something while they were wandering off with the wild herd, right?”

“Only time will tell, I guess… It would be a nice surprise.”

“How was Medianoche as a foal?”

At this, Epona took her hands to her lips and started to laugh in reminiscence. “He destroyed three stalls, freed a whole herd, went missing about five or six times and… He almost drowned.”

Zipacna snickered. “Almost drowned? What? His dear ol’ grandpa wanted to teach him how to swim or what?”

“Sort of…” Epona couldn’t help but let out a yawn. She was exhausted, she had a very long day today, and she needed to take a good night’s sleep right now. Not to mention it was already very late, anyway. Zipacna took notice.

“You look tired, my dear.”

“Yeah, I should probably go to sleep…” Epona gently replied, stretching out her back a bit. “I’ll wake up pretty late tomorrow, but anyway…” Epona glanced back at her companion. “You can spend the night here if you’d like. Xibalba will freak out thinking that you might… You know, but it’s very late and I wouldn’t want you to be eaten by a Kelpie on your way back.”

“Good point. Do you have any spare rooms here?”

“Considering that I’m alone in this castle… the servants have their own rooms, but I have plenty of free rooms.” She led Zipacna back towards the castle, but the cold night air made her shiver a bit. Zipacna covered her with a warm wing as they walked up the stairs, and then into the castle, but he continued to keep her warm. Epona smiled at him. “Thank you.”

“Your welcome.” He retuned the smile as they arrived to one of the spare rooms. It was a very large room with green and ivory walls, a large canopy bed with curtains and a great balcony window.

“Is it fine enough? Cold enough?” Epona smiled slyly at him.

“Yup, much better than my realm.” Zipacna smiled at her. Thanks…”

“Your welcome. I’ll be in my bedroom if you need anything, I usually don’t like to wake my servants up…” Epona blushed slightly. “Thank you for tonight, Zipacna… I really had a good time.”

“Me too.” He glanced at her as she went back to the door and glanced one more time at him with a smile. “Good night.”

“Good night… Epona.”

As she gave him one last smile and closed the door behind her, Zipacna felt his heart skipping a beat. He had never met such a woman, it was no wonder why Xibalba was so attached to her. He had to say, he was growing attached to her himself, she was the first person to like him for who he was. She hadn’t had let his outward appearance affect her opinion of him. Thoughts of this day’s events were swirling inside his head as he headed to bed. He has glad to have finally settled matters with Xibalba; he had been carrying that burden for centuries, but he was glad to say everything was cleared up.

He fell asleep soon after, dreaming pleasantly for the first time in eons.

The Nahual hadn’t taken long in finding out what Lord Itzlacol had told him, he had to slice a few necks, but it would be worth it. When he got to the palace, he was directed by the servants to go to the gardens, stating Lord Itzlacol was tending to some issues with the gardeners. It wasn’t that hard to figure out, as soon as he stepped out into the courtyard he smelt burnt flowers and ash, and heard yelling coming from the Fire God. The Nahual hid in the shadows in his animal form, awaiting for the right moment to appear; Itzlacol was towering over his chief gardener, a murderous glare in his severe expression.

“I SAID I WANTED BLUE ROSES!” he roared at the top of his lungs, his eyes almost literally in fire, almost like his robes. The failed attempts at creating said flowers were strewn all on the floor, burned into ashes along with the bushes they had come from.

“B-But My Lord…!” the gardened stuttered in terror. “We’ve worked to exhaustion to creature the p-pigment you desire, but there’s been no success-!”

Itzlacol chuckled darkly. “Really?! And how come Count Osvaldo has naturally-colored blue roses?!”

“I don’t know what techniques his gardeners used, but blue roses don’t usually exist in nature, they don’t have the specific gene that produces a true blue color-!”

“Which goes back to my question! How come my acquaintance HAS?!”

“I swear, My Lord, we’re doing our best-!” the poor spirit couldn’t continue as Itzlacol grabbed his throat and lifted him to eye level.

“Go back there, and do not come to my presence until you’ve managed to create a blue rose!!”

Prey of terror, the gardener, as well as his assistants, scrambled out of sight as soon as the former was thrown against the ground in an harsh manner. Itzlacol grumbled things under his breath until he felt another presence in the courtyard. “And you, give me the information I told you to bring before I lose my patience and turn you to ashes as well!”

The jaguar stepped out of the bushes and changed back into his human shape, bowing before his master. “I found out quite interesting things, My Lord.”

“You said that Selena woman was forcibly wedded to a dragon. Did you find out who he was?”

“Indeed I did, My Lord. His name was Akrinok, and they weren’t precisely in love, as far as it is known.”

Akrinok… that name rang a bell, he had heard it somewhere… “Where was he from?”

“Apparently, he came from a clan of Drampires, but he never grew fangs, and he got involved with the Dark Arts, which explains why he looked like a monster. Anyway, at some point before his marriage to Selena he gained the right to rule the Land of the Forgotten-“

!!

“Wait, the Land of the Forgotten?!” Itzlacol repeated in surprise.

The Nahual nodded. “After his marriage to Selena, they had two sons; Lord Zipacna, ruler of the Land of the Curse and-“

“Lord Xibalba.” Itzlacol finished. “And you say only Selena could ever grow the blue roses?”

“Indeed, My Lord. There’s a rumor that in Lord Xibalba’s castle there’s a beautiful garden filled with said roses, but no one has ever seen it.”

Itzlacol rubbed his chin in thought, waving the Nahual away so he could receive his ‘payment’ from one of his servants, and processed the information in his brain. So Selena was Xibalba’s mother, and the only one who ever grew blue roses naturally, but then how did Osvaldo obtain such rare flowers? He had claimed they had grown in his family’s garden for generations, but he was not related to Selena in any way.

Unless….

…Unless…

… Could it be?

Chapter Text

As soon as the ten days expired, Itzlacol went had his carriage prepared and went to the Land of the Remembered as soon as possible. As soon as he arrived to the castle, he saw a familiar black horse being saddle up by some servants. He still cursed his luck for losing the chance to acquire one of Epona’s horses, but overall he was frustrated he had lost to Osvaldo… Though if he was right and it worked, he’d be able t keep this magnificent beast. He climbed out of the carriage and strode elegantly but hurriedly through the halls of the palace. He half-expected La Muerte and Osvaldo to be in the dining hall, but when he inquired about it to a maid she said they were in one of the balconies overlooking the garden. He wondered if ‘Osvaldo’ had brought another of his goddamn, beautiful blue roses.

He found them outside on the tea table sharing some small sandwiches and tea; he remained hidden in the shadows, watching as they chatted so amiably, La Muerte looked so happy with him, and they often held hands, not to mention there was a sweet, tender feeling in the glances they often exchanged. At that moment, Itzlacol knew he was far behind, Osvaldo had already won her over. He better execute his plan as soon as possible, thankfully it seemed Osvaldo would be taking his leave soon…

“Itzlacol?”

The God od Fire jumped when he heard Sol’s voice behind him, but quickly regained his composure as he turned around and gave King Sol a respectful bow. “Your Highnesss.”

“What are you doing?” Sol inquired curiously. “Were you spying on my daughter…?”

“Oh, no, Majesty. I was merely waiting for Osvaldo to go so I could speak with her calmly, I do not like to interrupt private conversations. “

“That’s very polite on your part, Itzlacol. But may I inquire as to why you couldn’t present yourself these days?”

“I’m afraid wagers by the Ancient Rules must be fulfilled, especially when one loses.”

Sol looked confused. “What do you mean?”

Itzlacol glanced at Osvaldo. “Our dear friend Count Osvaldo is much smarter than he seems. We made a wager, and I lost; the loser was to stay away from La Muerte for ten days…” he feigned sadness. “… Every moment away from her was like a dying fire deprived from his coal to keep itself lit.”

“I see…”

“But I must ask you, your Highness, what has happened in my absence?”

Sol sighed, but he looked calm and content. “Osvaldo has been a true gentleman. La Muerte has gotten out of her depression with him, I am grateful for that.”

“I see...” Itzlacol managed to hide the bitterness in his voice. “And any word from Xibalba?

“That man has not shown his face around here, and he hasn’t replied to the King’s letters either. It’s like he shut himself away.”

“I suspect so. But let us go somewhere else to discuss, shall we?” Itzlacol glanced back at the tea table warily, silently motioning King Sol to follow him somewhere else. Unbeknown to the secret plot, La Muerte and Osvaldo continued with their chat.

“Epona wants to throw me a baby shower?” La Muerte giggled with red cheeks, she felt rather embarrassed at the news.

“I was not supposed to tell you, it was going to be a surprise…” Osvaldo blushed.

“I could pretend I’m surprised.”

“She’ll figure it out, that woman has a sharp eye for these kind of things…”

“So, what do you think of her and Zipacna being… You know, if they…”

Osvaldo sighed and leaned back into his seat, glancing at the Remembered city beyond the garden walls. “I don’t know… I mean, Epona deserves to be happy, but I’m still afraid Zipacna might use her, I know how he is. Diablos, I’ve even counted how many girls he has bedded and dumped over the years…”

“You used to be like that, didn’t you?”

“Well…” She had him there. “I admit it, I’m not a saint, but Epona is different. She is like a sister to me, I just…”

“You care for her.”

“She is of the few people who accepted me for who I was.” Osvaldo noticed it was getting late, and sighed. “I hate to say this, but I should go.”

“Paperwork?”

“A mountain of it.” He sighed in dismay. “It’s going to be a long night.”

La Muerte sighed sadly as she took another sniff at today’s blue rose. “Will you at least come back to accompany me for dinner?”

Osvaldo smiled and gently took her hand to plant a kiss on the back of it. “I’ll be more than pleased, milady. I’ll gladly make some time for you and the baby.” Squeezing her hand reassuringly once again, Osvaldo reluctantly walked away from the balcony, down to the hall and outside, where his steed was ready. Glancing back one more time, Osvaldo climbed unto Medianoche and galloped away.

He didn’t see the gold carriage following after him a few minutes.

“I do not like this!”

“Come on, we have to find what Itzlacol is up to!”

“This is breaking and entering!”

“I have to agree on Zipacna on that one.”

Epona rolled her eyes, and looked around from the bushes to make sure there were no guards posted. They had dozed off a while ago, and they didn’t seem like they were light sleepers. The Candlemaker’s ridiculously bright glow was going to make things very difficult for them, he could be spotted from miles away, but he knew all the gods better than anyone, since he was the keeper of the Book of Life, who was taking a small peek around to make sure no one was around. When it was certain all the guards were out of sight and earshot, the Book flew down to the trio and flapped its wings.

“I heard it was the Book of Life, but I never thought it was actually alive.” Epona whispered, wincing when Book turned its cover towards her in an almost reproachful manner. “Sorry…”

“Don’t worry, Epony, Book is not the type to hold grudges.” The Candlemaker shrugged. “Well, he does have quite some grudges written in its pages, but it’s not grudgy!”

“Could you two stop chatting? The sooner we get there, the sooner we can take our asses out of there before we get sent to the dungeons for break-in!”

Epona rolled her eyes and motioned the two gods behind her to follow her, sneaking silently across the main path leading to the entrance, opening the door as silently as she could while staring at the posted guards warily, until the door was open enough for the three of them-the Candlemaker included-to step inside, before closing the door behind them.

Zipacna stuck out his tongue in disgust at the walls made of gold and jewels. “Heck, this guy seriously needs a redecoration! It’s too… golden!”

“It’s Itzlacol, man. You know he’s the showy type.” The Candlemaker whispered hurriedly, clapping his hands. “Okay… If I were Itzy, were would I keep my mail?”

“Let me think…” Zipacna looked up, and spoke imitating Itzlacol’s voice. “I’m so very rich will save myself the bother of a mailbox an keep it somewhere where my simple mind can remember I left it there.” He blushed when Epona giggled at his poor imitation. The Book of Life shook its pages and flapped one of its sides for them to follow. The trio followed Book through the halls of Itzlacol’s castle, walking upstairs and into the higher levels, all the while avoiding to be seen by servants or guards. Finally, Book pointed to a giant door encrusted with hundreds of jewels, apparently Itzlacol’s bedchambers.

As they opened the doors and walked inside, Epona gasped in shock at the sight. Most of the room was made of gold, even the frames of the canopy bed, whose curtains were made of tiger skin. Above the chimney, there was a great portrait of Itzlacol on top of a red horse holding a sword, and surrounding the portrait were lots of game trophies. Unicorns, dragons, and many more poor creatures, whose expressions still seemed anguished, even after death. “He’s a monster…”

“Let’s look for what we came for.” Zipacna whispered hurriedly as he started looking inside the drawers, messing papers carelessly.

Epona took a look at the Book of Life, and noticed it was flying around in front of the wardrobe. “What does it mean when it does that?”

“He knows something that we don’t.” the Candlemaker explained, flinching when Epona turned to him. “Why are you looking at me like that…?” he gulped.

“Well, a lady shouldn’t look into a man’s wardrobe, it’s inappropriate.” Epona smiled innocently.

“But I don’t want to look at Itzlacol’s underwear!”

“Just go and look for something suspicious.” Zipacna said flatly.

Reluctantly, the Candlemaker opened the large wardrobe, and thankfully there wasn’t any underwear visible, only coats and robes of the most rare animal furs and the most expensive fabrics. He found a golden envelope with Egyptian hieroglyphs on top of the safe- wait, Egyptian hieroglyps?

“Guys, there’s something strange here.” The Candlemaker grabbed the envelope and went back to Zipacna and Epona, sliding a paper out of it

“Let me see.” Epona grabbed the letter and started to read it. But as her gaze moved downwards, her eyes widened in horror and her pupils shrunk in shock. “Candlemaker, have the Book of Life open to Xibalba’s Story! QUICK!”

It had been a while ever since he left the territory of the Land of the Remembered, and reached a neutral region from where he could get to any realm, including his. This was a wooded region, some forests were very thick and dark, and one could get lost in them if you weren’t careful. Xibalba was making his way down a path that led back to his realm when Medianoche stopped. Xibalba glanced frontwards, and saw a large fallen tree was blocking the main road leading to the Land of the Forgotten.

“Great.” Xibalba muttered as he stared at the tree. “Just great…” He turned Medianoche around and tried to see if there was some way to surround the tree, but it was very long and thick, there wasn’t a way to jump over it either. Muttering again, Xibalba turned Medianoche around completely and kicked him into a small trot. It seemed they would have to take the long way around, much to Medianoche’s discomfort. He had never liked this area.

“It’s okay, chico.” Xibalba patted his neck reassuringly. “It’ll be quick, I promise.” How he wished it were true. He had to be careful around this forest, though it had no predators and no apparent danger, the rumor said that if you got lost within it you would never find your way out. He often dismissed these rumors as nothing more than a children’s tale to warn kids to stay out of the forest, but as he led his horse down the other road and entered the foliage-covered path, he felt a shiver down his spine. Medianoche had similar thoughts, and shook his head in fear, but nevertheless he continued down the path. The more they advanced, the darker the path got, and the branches of the trees looked like they were reaching out to grab any lost souls that wandered through there. This is why he hated to take the long way, it technically gave him the creeps.

Suddenly, Medianoche stopped, snorting and shaking his head.

“What is it, boy? It’s okay.” He gently kicked his horse’s sides, but the horse only advanced a few steps before stopping again. “Medianoche, we can’t stay here for long-“

Suddenly, there was a small but very explosion a few steps away in front of them. They were caught off guard by it, so much Xibalba didn’t have to secure himself and fell off his horse as Medianoche reared up in fright. Before he could reach, shadows fell over him and pinned him against the round.

“QUE DEMO- MPH!” Xibalba couldn’t finish the sentence as suddenly a rag was shoved forcefully into his mouth, and he felt his wings and arms being tied down. Ponzoña slithered out of his master’s armor and tried to defend him, but was carelessly kicked aside a few steps, while Medianoche’s reins were being held by some of the shadow creatures in an attempt to subdue him, but the stallion continued to fight with kicks and bucking.

Before he could do anything else, a napkin was put over his nose and mouth, and his consciousness started to slip away, his vision turning into a blur as he caught a last glimpse of Ponzoña and Medianoche…

…

When he started to regain his consciousness, his head was aching terribly. He opened his eyes slowly, and found himself surrounded by darkness. He couldn’t see anything, but as he tried to move, he felt his hands held in place behind him by something, and on closer inspection realized they were tied behind a pole; he attempted to cry out, but there was a thick piece of cloth tied around his jaw and mouth that prevented him from speaking. How had he ended up here? Or rather, who had brought him here?”

“I see you’re awake.”

That voice… Looking around frantically, Xibalba saw a figure a few steps away from him. Long red hair, short matching beard, pale skin… Oh, no. the figure lit up a small fireball in his hand, making Xibalba closer his eyes momentarily till his eyes got adjusted to the small but sudden light.

“I must admit, Xibalba, with your reputation I thought you’d be harder to capture, but it didn’t even take a drop of sweat.” Itzlacol scoffed, looking at his rival with disdain, and decided to test the waters a bit. “Are you comfortable?”

If glares could kill, Itzlacol would be dead by then. Xibalba struggled with his bonds, but they were too tightly knit on his wrists and wings. The gag muffled his response as he thought to himself. “I would be more comfortable to see you hanged!”

“Oh, right, you can’t talk.”

“HMHPH!”

“Anyway, I do hope you’re comfortable. You won’t be leaving this place for a long time. You never will, actually…” Itzlacol glanced around curiously. “Remember this place? Set told me about.”

Set? How did Itzlacol know Set? Xibalba glanced around and realized that, in fact, he had been here before, when he and La Muerte came to Egypt. Realizing what Itzlacol intended to do; he glared at him with all the hatred he could muster.

“The roles were inverted that time, though. La Muerte was in your place, and you saved her life” He gave another mocking chuckle. “But this time, you won’t have her luck. I doubt anyone would care enough for you to save you, right?”

“You would be surprised.” Xibalba thought.

“In a few minutes, you’ll be out of the way and I’ll be able to keep La Muerte for myself. I must say, I’ve never met such a woman… She’s not like all the others.” Itzlacol grinned maliciously at the look in Xibalba’s eyes, and decided to taunt him a little more. “She has a fire… A passion…”

Xibalba narrowed his eyes and tightened his hands into fists, just what Itzlacol expected. He decided to go a little farther.

“I can’t wait till our wedding night… I can imagine her curves, those hips, those breasts…”

The dark god’s blood started to boil and tried to take off the gag, giving muffled curses and insults.

“Too bad you only got to taste her once. I, on the other hand, will get to taste her whenever I want…” he leaned in closer to Xibalba’s ear to whisper into it. “Whether she likes it or not. Of course, first I have to get rid of that little… problem.”

That was the last straw.

Itzlacol had to step back when out of sudden, Xibalba’s wings broke their bindings and flared out in uncontainable fury, and the gag slipped off his jaw; Xibalba yelled at the top of his lungs. “OVER MY DEAD BODY! YOU WILL NOT TOUCH MY CHILD!” Itzlacol just stared at him in surprise, but indifference. “YOU THINK THAT YOU WILL GET AWAY WITH THIS SO EASILY?! THEN YOU DON’T KNOW WHAT I’M CAPABLE OF!”

The fire god smirked. “Ah, but I do know what you’re capable of. If you risked yourself being caught by Sol when you took on that pathetic disguise, then I don’t doubt that you’re very reckless. And please” he scoffed. “Do you really think La Muerte could ever love such a pathetic creature as you when there are much more, better-looking fish at the sea?”

Xibalba scoffed. “Like you? Please!”

“I don’t need her to love me. I only need her to obey my every wish. That’s how a wife should treat her husband.”

“You know nothing about what a wife should be to her husband!” Xibalba retorted, thinking about La Muerte, and all she meant to him. “A man should cherish his wife, love her like man and treat her like a queen!”

Now it was Itzlacol’s turn to scoff. “You talk much about love after you technically kicked her out of your life. No wonder she left you.”

That struck a nerve, but he tried not to show it. “I had good intentions, I had my reasons to do so.” He frowned, but spoke in a mocking tone. “What about you, oh all mighty Itzlacol?!”

Itzlacol frowned. “What about me, according to you?”

“You think La Muerte will agree to this wedding? Or your stupid plan at all?”

“She won’t have any other choice once you’re out of the way.”

“She can decide for herself if she would want to marry you or not…” Xibalba smirked mockingly. “But I already know the answer.”

Itzlacol’s reaction was a simple frown. “I can see why Sol dislikes you so much, you really are a nuisance.” He was losing control of the situation. He better put him back in place. And he knew just the perfect way. “You know, I’m still thinking of how I’ll be getting rid of that engender La Muerte is carrying.”

Xibalba’s smirk instantly vanished.

“I was thinking…” Itzlacol laughed humorlessly. “A terrible accident, and the product is lost…”

“Why you little-?!” Xibalba attempted to lunge at him, but his ties prevented him from moving. How dare he refer to a baby as if he were a thing?! He struggled violently, flapping his wings wildly as he roared. “DON’T YOU DARE!”

“What? I’ll be doing the three of us a favor.” Itzlacol shrugged indifferently.

“Another reason why everyone thinks you are a hypocrite!”

Itzlacol shrugged, uninterested. “What? La Muerte will be rid of that spawn that has ruined her life, you won’t have to respond for that brat, and I’ll get to make La Muerte mine, and who knows?” the fire god’s smirk as insufferable. “In a few months there may be little Itzlacol’s running around.”

Xibalba frowned once more. “You don’t know her… She loves her child no matter whose it is…” the thought of La Muerte losing their child, their baby, made him tremble. “The only one who would do that would be you.”

“It doesn’t really matter, does it? I’ve heard that losing a child makes women more fertile…. I mean, if it works with lionesses it must work on such a wild-spirited lioness as her…”

“Wow, how did you discover that fact?” Xibalba cried out sarcastically. “Oh, let me guess, you read it? Can you actually read?”

Itzlacol chuckled humorlessly again, not amused in the least at the comment. “Your sense of humor is amusing. It seems you’re forgetting your situation. I expected you’d be a bit more worried about yourself.”

“No, I’m actually more worried on your situation. But why would I waste my saliva on deaf people?”

“You know, I agree with you on that one. I’m sick of hearing you talk.” With a snap of Itzlacol’s fingers, the thick piece of cloth flew back to Xibalba’s jaw and wrapped tightly around his mouth.

Xibalba narrowed his eyes in hatred at the fire god, thinking. “And I’m sick of you living.”

“Now that I recall, I hear humans have invented a new way to get rid of unwanted features…” Itzlacol took a hand to his chin in thought. “… Abortion, I think they call it.” He noticed the horrified expression on Xibalba’s face, which meant he knew about the practice. Good. “That would be much easier, less planning, more action.” Itzlacol smiled tauntingly and approached the bound god. “Definitely, the abortion sounds amusing. Have you heard of it? Turns out there are various forms to do it. They either get a spoon into the womb and take the product little by little, piece by piece… or a vacuum and flush it out. Which do you think would work best on your child?”

Xibalba glared daggers at him. “I’ll take your brain out piece by piece!”

“Though there are a few setbacks to it… the mother can either die of blood loss, or get a psychological trauma, or become infertile… I do hope it’ll be the psychological trauma, she’ll be easier to manipulate that way.”

Every word was torture for Xibalba. The thought of his beloved wife being subjected to that torturous process, the thought of his baby being taken out of the warmth and safety of its mother’s womb before it could even take its first breath, it broke his heart severely.

Itzlacol started to pace round. “And once we ascend to the throne, I doubt I’ll have any more use of her when she gives me an heir. Who knows?” Itzlacol tapped his chin again. “I hear there are goblins in Europe who have been looking for slaves. I wonder how they’d treat such a beautiful woman…”

Xibalba closed his eyes shut and turned his head away, he didn’t want to hear anymore.

“Oops. Did I hit a sore spot?” Itzlacol chuckled evilly. “You won’t have to worry about her for long. Soon you’ll be gone, and you’ll never see her again.”

Hot tears of anger were moistening his eyes, but he tensed up and tried not to show them in front of Itzlacol. He didn’t want to give the god another thing to mock him about.

“It appears you do have a heart, after all. Who would have thought? The feared and powerful Lord Xibalba weeping like a little girl!” Itzlacol snickered, before taking a hand to his ear. “You hear that?”

Xibalba raised his head and, in fact, heard something from behind the walls. Water rushing.

That’s my cue. Well, it was nice chatting with you, but I just had these clothes washed and I wouldn’t like them to get wet. Besides, I’ll need to be presentable tonight.”

“HMPH!” Xibalba cried out through the gag, looking angrily at the God.

“Sorry, I forgot to mention. Sol will be telling La Muerte we are to be married soon, and I will inform them you will no longer be a problem.” As Itzlacol started to climb up the stairs, he looked down at Xibalba mockingly. “Hasta nunca, Osvaldo.”

The door slammed closed.

Xibalba continued to struggle in his ties, flapping his wings furiously in an attempt to free himself, until he heard the water flushing into the room, and at his feet. Realizing he had only a few seconds before this room was completely flooded, Xibalba continued to struggle with all his might, until he remembered his knife. With some difficulty, he managed to take the small blade out of his glove and started to cut through the rope. When the water was by his chest, he managed to cut off his ropes, removing the rag from his mouth just as the level of water started to ascend, and his feet were lifted from the ground. Xibalba swam towards the trapdoor, but wen he tried to open it he realized it was locked. The cold water had nearly flooded the room completely, in a few more seconds the level would reach the ceiling. Xibalba took a deep breath just as he was completely submerged in the water.

In desperation, he pounded at the door with all his might, trying to break it and somehow get some sort of oxygen source while he opened it, but the lack of air started to get to him, and his pounding became weaker and fainter as he struggled to even move. Xibalba struggled to keep fighting, but soon his body went completely numb and limp as water went into his lungs, and his eyes started to close.

I can’t die like this….!

I can’t leave her alone…!

I… I c-can’t….

M-Mi amor….

He saw holes in his vision, and for one moment, he caught a glimpse of something going on, but his consciousness slipped away as the water pressure overcame him… The last thing he felt was being dragged by a pair of arms.

“I – him!”

“Pull -!”

“Santa-! What- we-?!”

They barely managed to open the trapdoor of the flooded room and drag the unconscious god before he completely ran out of air. Zipacna and the Candlemaker dragged Xibalba unto the dry ground, closing the trapdoor shut again before the water could get out.

“XIBALBA!” Zipacna shook his brother violently and in worry. “HERMANITO, WAKE UP!”

“It’s no use! He’s got water inside his lungs!” the Candlemaker stated. “I know now’s not the moment, but couldn’t we-?”

“Out of the way!” Epona shoved the two gods aside and performed CPR on him, temporally removing his chest plate to compress his chest, and much to Zipacna’s shock, started to apply mouth-to-mouth to try and force oxygen unto his brother’s lungs.

Zipacna couldn’t help it, when he saw Epona kissing Xibalba like that, even if it was to save his life, it bothered him. Made him recall she had once been Xibalba’s woman, even if temporally, but he quickly shook the thought out of his head; she was saing his life.

“Hey, man, are you okay?” the Candlemaker asked him after noticing Zipacna stiffening every time Epona’s lips touched Xibalba’s.

“Considering my brother could have drowned, no, I’m not!” Zipacna snapped back, crossing his arms, though the Candlemaker could tell this was not only about Xibalba being nearly killed.

Finally, Epona gave a final compression on Xibalba’s chest, and the dark god reacted, coughing the water out of his lungs, but his consciousness took a few more seconds to return. Xibalba’s vision cleared and he took deep breaths to regain the lost air as he glanced at the three familiar faces. “What…?”

“Xibalba, are you okay?!” Epona asked him, gently touching his cheek in worry-Xibalba noted Zipacna’s head feathers bristling in jealously.

“Hermanito, for goodness sake, don’t scare me like that!” Zipacna snapped at his brother, pulling him into a hug.

“What happened…?” Xibalba’s eyes widened in realization when he remembered what had happened before he nearly drowned, and he pulled back from the hug abruptly. “P-Ponzoña! And M-Medianoche, they are-!”

“Don’t worry, man, they’re safe and sound.” The Candlemaker patted his shoulder so strongly he nearly sent Xibalba to the ground again. “It’s curious! We were going to your location when we ran into Medianoche, and Ponzoña was with him. But when we noticed you were not with him, we knew something had happened.”

“And how did you find me…?”

“Let’s say dear ol’ Itzlacol should do better if he wants to keep his secrets a secret.” Zipacna snickered, holding out the letter. “Turns out he and Set have been exchanging mail for a while.”

At the mention of Itzlacol, Xibalba’s blood started to boil. He ignored Epona and the others’ protests as he shabbily stood back up, stretching out his soaked wings, not even bothering to put his chest plate back on as he teleported away.

He had pending matters with that bastard, after all.

Chapter Text

La Muerte had a bad feeling for a while. As she readied herself for dinner, brushing her long hair and humming a small tune to the baby as she did so, she couldn’t help but feel a strange sensation, like something bad was going to happen. She had always had a sharp intuition for these kind of things. La Muerte slipped into her casual red dress and put on her hat, the candles turning lit almost instantly as soon as it touched her head. The feeling didn’t go away as she went out of her room, and walked downstairs carefully, the last thing she needed was to slip. However, the feeling was confirmed when she entered the dining room and found Itzlacol there talking with her father. Both had serious expressions, which sent a shiver down her spine.

“What’s wrong?” La Muerte asked gently.

Itzlacol knew he’d have to give the acting of his life if he wanted to go through with his plans. He had already informed Sol about ‘Osvaldo’s’ true identity and his tragic fate, twisting the tale to his advantage. But he knew he’d have to convince La Muerte about it, and he knew she was no fool. There was a reason she was one of the hardest prizes to get in the pantheon. He made his best worried expression as he walked towards her. “La Muerte, I have very grave news…”

“What is it?” she whispered, taking a few steps back warily.

Sol joined in with a solemn expression. “It’s about Osvaldo.”

She felt her heart skip a beat, stiffening. “What’s wrong with him?”

“La Muerte, first of all…” Sol sighed. “You have to take things calmly, it could do harm to the baby-“

“What happened?” La Muerte demanded. Had they found out the truth…?

“Osvaldo was actually Xibalba in disguise.” Itzlacol decided to go straight to the point. “He managed to fool us all. I was so incensed at his trick that I went to confront him and demand him that he leave you be. He mocked at me, stating that since you were still his wife, you were still in his possession even if you were not with him.”

La Muerte had the feeling he was lying about the last part, but her stomach fell when she realized they had somehow found out. Still, she tried to look as shocked as she could. “W-What…?”

“I challenged him to a duel. If I won, he would give you the separation. But he didn’t see the cliff, the Forgotten Beasts, he…” Itzlacol made a small dramatic pause to hold out one of the desired blue roses to La Muerte, letting her take it from his hand reluctantly. But he had to keep this act credible enough. “He’s dead-“

Before anyone could react to the ‘news’, suddenly they heard a commotion coming from the throne room. A few seconds later, the doors slammed open and a streak of tar zipped at the speed of light towards Itzlacol, turning into a familiar dark entity with black wings who send the Fire God to the ground with a big punch to the jaw. La Muerte gasped in shock; Xibalba’s chest plate was missing, and he was soaking wet, but still he emanated a dark aura that sent shivers down her spine; however, all his anger was solely directed at the fallen Itzlacol, and she noticed he had landed just in front of her in an almost protective way.

“YOU?!” Sol shouted in both alarm and indignation.

Xibalba ignored him and directed his shout at Itzlacol. “BASTARD! HOW DARE YOU APPROACH MY WIFE AFTER WHAT YOU TRIED TO DO?!”

“XIBALBA!” La Muerte grabbed unto his arm and pulled him away, momentarily forgetting she was supposedly mad at him for tricking her, and she should be mad at him for his ‘trickery’, but she had the feeling Itzlacol’s story was a bluff. When Itzlacol set his jaw in place with a crunch and looked up at Xibalba, La Muerte caught a glimpse od disbelief, shock and nervousness in his eyes, proving her suspicions to be true.

“WHAT IS THE MEANING OF THIS?!” Sol shouted, though he was only looking at Xibalba.

“I… I don’t get it…” Itzlacol went back on his feet, pretending to be confused, cursing his luck. “I saw him…! He was-!”

“YOU SON OF A WHORE! YOU ALMOST KILLED ME!” Xibalba released his arm from La Muerte’s hold gently, attempting to hide her from view. “WHY DON’T YOU TELL THEM WHAT ACTUALLY HAPPENED! THAT YOU ASKED SET TO DROWN ME!”

“What the…?! What are you talking about?!”

Just then, Zipacna and Epona entered the room, followed by a crowd of servants, civilians and guards, but they were wary regarding Xibalba and his companions. The guards had sworn to give up their lives for the Royal Family, but even they knew they were no match against a God; still, they would die again if necessary.

“So you got amnesia, huh?!” Xibalba continued, narrowing his eyes in pure hatred.

“How dare you show your face here after what you’ve done?!” Sol quickly headed to his daughter and pulled her away from Xibalba, glaring at him.

“What I did?! You should be asking that to him!” the dark god pointed at Itzlacol, who simply shrugged and pretended not to know what he was talking about. “And I think I have the right to visit my own wife and child, don’t I?! Someone has to want them about a murderer hidden right in front of them!”

“Oh, you mean about the wife you discarded and the child you rejected?” Itzlacol pointed out matter-of-factly with crossed arms, smirking internally when his rival flinched at the reminder.

“Shut it, ginger head!” Zipacna growled at him with bristled feathers.

“Thank you for the reminder! I know I made a mistake, but it doesn’t mean I don’t care about their lives! And if you tried to kill me, I can’t see a reason why you wouldn’t try to get rid of MY child, remember? All the ways you said you could get rid of him?!”

La Muerte gasped in shock and glanced at Itzlacol in fear. The Fire God knew he had to think of something to retort, but for now continued to deny it. “That’s ridiculous!”

“Really?” Epona crossed her arms with a frown. “Then you won’t mind if we ask Set and Lord Osiris, do you?”

“Ah, yes! We can always go ask them! Even if Set lies, Lord Osiris doesn’t!” Xibalba snapped, before glancing at Sol. “This monster has to get very far away from my wife and child now!”

Sol stood his ground. “I don’t have to ask a foreign God anything! And much less at her!” he glanced at Epona resentfully, to which Zipacna reacted.

“Hey, cool it down, Solly!” the croc head gnashed his teeth.

“Sol, no offense, but I think you should have your eyesight checked! Can’t you see he’s lying?!” Xibalba measured his words when talking to Sol. He didn’t forget he was still La Muerte’s father.

“The only liar here is you!” Sol growled.

“Am I?! Wasn’t it Itzlacol who said that I am dead?! Yet, here I am! OR what, do you think I’m a ghost who came back to haunt you for the rest of eternity?!”

“I thought you were dead, which is different.” Itzlacol defended himself. “Besides, I agree with King Sol that you’re the last person anyone would take seriously by now.”

Before Xibalba could go after Itzlacol again, the guards, most of them Aztec warriors or even conquistadors, tried to restrain him, but he merely flicked them aside with a flap of his wings, though careful not to actually hurt them. He knew La Muerte cared for all of her subjects, and she would never forgive him if he hurt them seriously. King Sol became worried for his daughter’s emotional state, knowing it could affect the baby if she became too stressed out.

“La Muerte, it’ll be best if you retire.” He said, taking her hand gently. “The baby-“

“Let her stay, Solly!” Zipacna snapped at him. “She has some good things to hear about Itzlacol!”

Xibalba chuckled bitterly as he glanced at Itzlacol once again. “Why don’t you tell her of your actual intentions, Itzlacol? Making her a widow to marry her and gain free leeway to the Land of the Remembered, kill our child to have her bear your own children and discard her when you’re done with her.”

La Muerte glanced at Itzlacol warily; she knew Xibalba would never invent something as serious as that, and she had always had the feeling Itzlacol was not who he seemed. If only she could convince her father about it…

“You have no proof of any of those claims.” Itzlacol stated.

“Would you like to ask the Candlemaker?”

“Please! The Book of Life doesn’t extend to other pantheons. Even if you did have your own solved issued with this Set, the Book wouldn’t show anything that didn’t happen within OUR pantheon.”

“But it does show MY story! That’s how Zipacna and Epona found I was in trouble, my snake and my horse confirmed it. And here you said I didn’t have anyone who cared about me.”

“Allow me to remind you you were in Egyptian territory.”

Zipacna sighed in dismay. “Unfortunately, he has a point there. The Book of Life can’t see what happens in other pantheons.”

Itzlacol grinned. “See? You can’t prove that I did what you claim. And we cannot trust the words of any of them.” He glanced at Epona and Zipacna, then at Sol. “Zipacna is his brother, he might as well be covering him up. And that… lady was one of his past lovers.”

The tone in which Itzlacol pronounced the word lady did it. “Why, you little-!” Zipacna was about to lunge at him when Epona stopped him, pulling him back with considerable strength. Xibalba glanced at his wife with pleading eyes, begging her to believe in him one more time. He felt a weight off his chest when she subtly gave him a reassuring look. However, as he tried to go to her, Sol got in the way, again.

“Stay away from my daughter!”

“She’s my wife and the mother of my child!”

“Oh, so now you care?!”

“I have ALWAYS cared! Remember?!” Xibalba was surrounded in green flames, and a few moments later he had changed back into Osvaldo, glaring at Sol.

“Of course I do!” Sol winced at the sight, wondering how he could have fallen for it so easily. “That’s how you tricked my daughter again!”

“How did I trick her? I just wanted to apologize and get on better terms with her, but I knew you wouldn’t allow me to get a glimpse of her.”

“With another lie?”

“It was not her that I lied to, she knew about this all along.”

“What…?!”

Sol and Itzlacol glanced at La Muerte incredulously. She remained silent. She knew it was a matter of time before they found out. There was not case in hiding it, anyway. Even as her father silently pleaded her to deny her husband’s claims, she closed her eyes in resignation. “It’s true. I knew about his true identity all along.”

“La Muerte…” Xibalba changed back into his true form and glanced at her, he could use this to their advantage. “How did Osvaldo treat you?” Thankfully, she seemingly caught on to what he was doing.

“He was very sweet, kind and romantic.”

“And how did I treat you?”

“… You were also sweet, romantic and considerate.”

“So then… Did you find any difference between me and Osvaldo?” Xibalba glanced at Sol.

“I didn’t.”

“See?”

Itzlacol panicked when Sol didn’t find any words to retort. He had to keep him on his side quickly, and spoke in a dismissal tone. “Right, right. As far as we remember, you are known in many realms as a trickster, aren’t you? How do we know it’s not another trick to lure La Muerte back to you so you can hurt her again?

Xibalba cursed Itzlacol’s insistence. La Muerte tried to say something else. “I d-don’t think he’s-“

“And unless my memory fails me, you’re Lord Akrinok’s son.” Itzlacol started to pace around Xibalba, thoughtful. “Who knows what manners you got from him. If he killed his own wife, what can assure us you won’t do the same?” Itzlacol knew he had hit the right spot when Xibalba stiffened, and King Sol glanced at the Fire God in shock.

“Akrinok did what…?!”

Even La Muerte was shocked at the news. “How did you….?”

“I have contacts, dear La Muerte.”

Xibalba took a moment to calm himself down, letting out a sigh before speaking. “Why would you be so interested in my life, Itzlacol?”

“Like they say, like father, like son.”

“And you had to make a whole research? Did you casually find the date of my birthday too? Or were you up to something?”

“I just wanted to look for the precedence of those blue roses. I must admit, your dearly-departed mother had quite unique gifts.”

“And why are you so interested in my roses, if I may know?”

“I repeat, I’ve been trying to grow roses like that for a while and I found it suspicious ‘Osvaldo’ had them when there was supposedly only ONE goddess who could grow them, your mother Lady Selena.

Angry, Xibalba glanced at La Muerte subtly. “Mind if I kill him? Or could I at least give it a try?” He inquired, cracking his knuckles.

Sol decided he had enough. “Leave my castle at once! Or should I call the Kings to settle this matter!”

“My pleasure! I’m leaving for the time being.” Xibalba saw a hole in Sol’s barrier between him and his wife and managed to hold La Muerte’s hand for a few moments. “Be careful.” He whispered, letting go of her hand and glancing at Itzlacol with all the hatred he could muster, before feeling a hand on his shoulder.

“Let’s go, hermanito.” Zipacna whispered, glaring at Sol. “Obviously, Solly doesn’t want to listen to reason!”

Xibalba didn’t want to leave La Muerte and the baby alone with Itzlacol, he was afraid Itzlacol would be true to his word and do something to make her miscarry, he made her notice by glancing at her abdomen in worry, but she nodded reassuringly at him, giving him the faintest of smiles. Xibalba glanced at her with all the love in the world, receiving another in return, and then his gaze turned cold when he glanced at King Sol. “Age starts to say it’s word, Sol… Am I right?”

With that, he, Zipacna and Epona disappeared, the colors around them fading into shades of gray as they appeared in one of the halls in Xibalba’s castle. However, Xibalba could not contain his anger anymore; with grit teeth, he broke the closest thing to him-an old vase-into pieces. Before he could rip the curtains of the nearest window apart, Epona and Zipacna grabbed him by the shoulders to stop him.

“Xibalba, calm down!” Epona growled.

“How can I calm down?!” Xibalba snapped, getting free of their hold, shaking in anger. “That monster is still near La Muerte and the baby!”

“But you are still married! Itzlacol cannot have any further advances on her!” Zipacna reassured him, but it did little good, it merely make Xibalba let out an exasperated growl. “Don’t worry, maybe we can get to an agreement!”

“How?! With them?!” Xibalba shivered at the echo of Itzlacol’s threats, how he had nearly drowned in the waters of the Nile. Now he knew how La Muerte had felt when Set tried to drown her.

“Are you alright?” Epona noticed her friend was trembling almost uncontrollably, let out coughs every now and then, and he looked pale.

“I’ll be fine…” Xibalba sighed, leaning against the wall. “Thank you for saving me… I don’t know what would have happened if you guys hadn’t arrived…”

“You’d probably be at the bottom of the Nile.” Zipacna said.

Xibalba rolled his eyes. “Haha, very funny… I can’t wait till you are the one who nearly dies…”

“What are you going to do now, anyway?” Epona intervened before the two started to argue. “I mean, after what happened you won’t be able to see La Muerte and vice versa.”

“I don’t know, Epona… They will try to keep her away from me, double the guard and who knows what else…” Xibalba felt cold, and his wings started to feel heavy.

“That has never stopped you, has it?” Zipacna grinned, twitching his ear.

“It didn’t… You are r-right… Right now… I can’t think of anything…” Xibalba trembled, shivering, and suddenly he started to sweat. “I… I need to calm down for a moment…” He started to give raspy coughs again, and his trembling worsened.

“Xibalba, are you sure you don’t want us to call Asclepius?!” Zipacna didn’t like how his brother was reacting.

“I’m okay…! Just… If you can, make sure La Muerte and the baby are… both safe.” Suddenly, his chest started to hurt, and he felt a burning sensation; the dark god inhaled deeply in an attempt to make the sensation disappear, but he fell on his knees.

“Xibalba?!” Zipacna kneeled down to check on his brother, and retreated his hand when he realized he was burning in fever.

“I’ll call Asclepius!” Epona cried out as she ran down the hall.

Zipacna had to help Xibalba up, but even then his younger brother had difficulty standing up; Xibalba’s breathing became rapid, and he started to cough again, but this time it lasted longer. “Hermanito, what’s wrong?!”

“I… I c-can’t…” Xibalba tried to finish his sentence, but his aching chest prevented him from doing so. Everytime he breathed he felt like his lungs were pierced by a thousand knives, and he didn’t have the strength to keep himself on his feet. With a small burst of strength, he managed to speak. “… C-Can’t breathe…”

“Heck! First epilepsy, and now asthma?!”

“N-No… Maybe… Maybe it’s just some… water in my lungs…” the suffocating sensation worsened.”

“I think this is worse than that!”

Xibalba managed to nod. “I need to get to… Bed… Lay down…”

“Okay, let’s get you to bed, then!”

Xibalba grit his teeth in pain at the burning in his chest, and then a great migraine. He hoped this wouldn’t trigger his epilepsy, or he’d be done for. He leaned on Zipacna all the way to his bedchambers, making things a bit difficult for his older brother, but somehow they managed to get to Xibalba’s room. Zipacna quickly helped him get to bed and lay him down. The younger god didn’t have his armor anymore, but it didn’t help him at all by exposing him to the cold air of his realm. “Maldita sea, what’s taking him so long?!” Xibalba growled, gripping his blankets in pain.

“What do I do meanwhile?!” Zipacna was losing it, especially when the coughing became louder and more frequent.

“I… Open the window…!”

Zipacna muttered as he rushed to open the balcony doors. “This is bad….!”

“This… must be something…!” Xibalba let out another cough, harder than the ones before. “A bacteria or something!”

“What?!”

“It was the… N-Nile, remember?!” Xibalba closed his eyes shut as the sweat trickled down his face. “DEMONIOS, ASCLEPIUS?! DÓNDE RAYOS ESTÁS?!”

“Right here!” Speaking of the devil, Asclepius rushed into the room followed closely by Epona, Emilio and Regina. Xibalba coughed again, Emilio swore his black skin was turning gray.

“Do something medical! He’s dying!” Zipacna yelled in panic.

Asclepius was confused when he saw Zipacna present, the last time he had heard he and Xibalba weren’t on exactly good terms, but now was not the moment to ask for explanations.

“First tell me what happened to him!”

Zipacna growled and pointed at his brother, who by then had turned very pale from the lack of oxygen. “I think it’s pretty obvious he’s suffocating! He can’t breath!”

“Stand aside!” Asclepius stepped forward to the bedside and started pressing on Xibalba’s chest as he continued to cough. “Come on…!” Meanwhile, Xibalba felt something coming up from his lungs and up his chest, until he started to cough water out; he felt a bit of relief as the pressure on his chest diminished.

“I…” Xibalba managed to take in some air, but he still had difficulty breathing. “What happened?” he glanced at Asclepius, worried. “What was it this time? What happened to me?” He gave another cough. “Damn it! Asclepius!” he winced when Asclepius pressed his hands on his chest even harder. “Stop it, you’re making it worse!”

“Damn it, you have a bacteria!”

“A what?” Zipacna inquired. “Looks like you did hit the bull’s-eye, hermanito.”

“Were you underwater? If you did, did you swallow water?”

Seeing his brother couldn’t speak much for the time being, Zipacna answered for him. “He did. Long story short, it was from the Nile river.” Xibalba confirmed the statement with a nod.

Asclepius quickly mixed some herbs into water, which then turned into a green liquid, he picked up the glass and held it to Xibalba’s lips. “Quick! Drink this!”

“What is that…?” Xibalba managed to ask before the burning sensation returned.

“It’s the antibiotic to the bacteria! Drink it if you want to make it through the night!”

Xibalba had never liked to take direct medicines, but seeing there was no other way out of this, he nevertheless drank a sip of it with closed eyes. Much to his surprise, it didn’t taste as bad as he imagined.

Asclepius rolled his eyes. “Drink it all at once! It should help your immune system fight the bacteria!”

“What does it taste like?” Zipacna inquired.

“Minty.” Xibalba simply said, drinking the rest of the medicine in one gulp. “How long will it take until I feel better? Any side effects?”

“A week, in the least.” Asclepius explained. “You might have a migraine every now and then and a mild burning sensation in your chest, but it means the antidote’s taking effect.”

“Please tell me I can at least move! Not that much since I can’t, but still…” he took various breaths to regain the lost air, though he still had a bit of difficulty to breathe. Suddenly, the lack of oxygen and the effort to regain it took its toll on Xibalba, and he felt exhausted. Overall, the stress, the experience with Itzlacol and his worry over La Muerte were still affecting him; all his worry lay on his beloved wife, fearing for both her life and the baby’s.

“You should take a nap.” Asclepius finally said.

“Hopefully I won’t suffocate in my sleep.”

“You’ll be fine.”

Xibalba gave one more cough before laying his head down on his pillows, closing his eyes. “Thank you…” He tried to go to sleep; he heard Asclepius talking with Epona, Zipacna and his servants, probably about the care and medicines he’d need for the time being. He didn’t mint about it for the time being, he did need some rest after what happened today. But he was still worried about La Muerte. Lots of things could happen in his absence, and with the pending threat of Itzlacol being around her, he wasn’t certain if he could sleep soundly at all.

A few minutes later, his exhaustion came over him.

La Muerte waited until she was certain everyone was asleep.

She had plenty of time to think about what she was going to do, and process all she had fount out today. It wasn’t that it was that hard to believe, but for some reason she never imagines Itzlacol as a murderer. Sure thing, he was arrogant, overconfident and prideful, thinking himself superior to everyone and seeing women as nothing more than tools to bear children, but she never thought he’d go as far as to murder someone. She recalled he’d say he’d do anything to obtain what he wanted, and this was just the proof to how far he was willing to go, even use underhanded methods she would never approve of.

Her father had, again, assumed Xibalba threatened her somehow, no matter how many times she repeated she hid the secret on her own account; but sice Itzlacol’s revelation that Akrinok had murdered his own wife, Sol decided he wouldn’t let the same fate occur to his beloved daughter. He doubled the guard to make sure Xibalba wouldn’t show his face around, it bothered her. She wouldn’t be surprised if he started to try and get her together with Itzlacol; she was afraid he’d go that far. She had overheard a discussion between her father and Itzlacol, and she didn’t like it in the least. She had the feeling her father would do what was in his hands to annul her marriage, but she had just confirmed Itzlacol had no limits.

She couldn’t stay here.

It wasn’t safe for her… or the baby, as long as Itzlacol roamed around like a hungry shark.

When she was certain everyone was asleep, she left bed and got dressed silently but carefully, putting on a red dress that would make riding easier, a pair of white silk gloves and dark red boots. She had asked Aimé to take a note to the stable hands asking to saddle up Blanca secretly, she should be coming ay anytime to tell her everything was ready. La Muerte was just putting on a red cloak when there was a gentle knock on her door, which let her know it was Aimé. The younger goddess entered the room quickly, glancing back to make sure she hadn’t been followed.

“Are you sure you want to do this, big sis?” Aimé asked for the fifth time that day.

“I can’t stay here, Aimé. I just… I don’t know what Itzlacol would be capable of, he already tried to kill Xibalba, what if he tries to kill my baby, I…”

“But to go to the Land of the Forgotten by yourself? Isn’t it too risky? You could take some guards with you-“

“No, that would be endangering my subject’s lives. The Land of the Forgotten is not a picnic; too many people would attract the attention of the Forgotten Beasts. I don’t want to risk their lives like that, they have families, I have no right to tear them apart.”

“What if something happens?”

“I’ll be fine, Amy.” La Muerte reassured her sister with a smile, pulling her close into a hug. “I know how to go back, and how to avoid the Forgotten Beast.”

“I’ll tell Father that you went to spend a few days with Xochiquétzal. She agreed to keep on with this as long as she can, but please, Hermana, be careful out there. Take care of my little sobrinita, okay?”

La Muerte smiled and kissed her forehead. “I will write to you as soon as I can, Amy.”

After sharing one last hug with her little sister, La Muerte snuck out of her bedroom, and silently made her way down to the stables. The stable hands had just finished saddling Blanca, making sure the saddle was properly adjusted. La Muerte thanked them for their help and climbed unto Blanca, who scratched the ground with her hoof, excited. La Muerte patted her neck gently.

“We’re going home, girl.” She whispered in a low voice, before stroking her own abdomen, now directing her words to the baby. “We’re going back to papi, bebé.”

La Muerte gently led Blanca out of the stables, and away from the castle in a slow trot.

Chapter Text

After getting out of the city, La Muerte galloped through the desert, and then through the forest area that led towards the Land of the Forgotten. The sun would rise soon, but when she got down to the dark realm she would no longer see it. It wasn’t long before she arrived at the Cave of Souls. Or at least, to the area underneath it, after passing through the Guardian, who recognized her godly aura and automatically allowed her entrance without submitting her to the Trial. Taking the waterfalls in the Candlemaker’s level was one way to travel from one realm to another, but the most secretive way to go was through the underground tunnels that directly led into the other realms. However, as Blanca was about to step into the cold, barren kingdom that was her husband’s, La Muerte pulled the reins before they entered the Land of the Forgotten; she took her hands to her belly, she didn’t forget there was a tiny life growing in there, depending on her for safety.

She couldn’t risk the life of the baby just like that.

She recalled she had brought something. Before leaving Egypt, Lady Isis had granted her with a protection spell. Maybe now was a good time to use it. La Muerte searched in her saddlebag and took out a small amulet with the shape of a scarab; she touched her abdomen with it and uttered an incantation she had been taught to pronounce correctly by Horus. The amulet glowed a golden light and the energy went into her abdomen, which glowed of the same shade before subsiding. The spell would protect the little embryo from any physical harm that might come to it. La Muerte took a deep breath before gently kicking Blanca into motion again.

They walked into a section of the land filled with ruins. The gray fallen structures were cracked and half-covered in snow, belonging to long lost civilizations which no one remembered or even knew existed. La Muerte saw various groups of Forgotten souls as she advanced through the ruins, and her heart shrank in sadness at the sight. This was the first time she saw the non-aggressive inhabitants of the Land of the Forgotten. Their bones were black with green swirls similar to Xibalba’s own, and their expressions were sad and regretful. Every now and then, one would let out a sigh, others would suddenly turn into ash and be blown away by the cold wind. They paid no heed of her presence, though a few did lift their heads at the sudden and unfamiliar golden, warm glow before lowering their gazes again in indifference.

La Muerte gasped when she realized some of these souls were children, old men, women, even infants! All had the same look of hopelessness as the rest. Her eyes swelled up with tears at the sight. So this was the fate of those poor souls who had no one to remember them; it meant that anyone in the Land of the Remembered could suffer this fate if their living relatives died and there was no one to remember them. There were so many people she cared about that could be sent down here before she knew it, and there was nothing she would be able to do to stop it. La Muerte couldn’t bear the sight any longer and made Blanca go faster, the sooner she got back to Xibalba’s castle, the sooner she could get this image out of her head.

Once she was out of the ruined section of the realm, and found the pathway that led back to Xibalba’s castle, suddenly Blanca stopped, lifting her ears at a faint sound coming from the rocky edges above them.

“What’s wrong, Blanca?” La Muerte patted her neck, but Blanca shook her head and snorted nervously. La Muerte felt a shiver run down her spine when she heard a familiar growling, trigging the memory of gnashing teeth, black blood and sharp claws. Her accelerated heartbeat seemingly attracted the monsters even more, they poked their heads from above them, licking their chops and grinning hungrily down at the goddess and the horse. La Muerte would have frozen in fear, but she couldn’t risk herself like this.

“Blanca, run!”

Blanca galloped off the broken path just as the Forgotten Beasts pounced unto the spot they had been standing on, and darted after them in hot pursuit.

Xibalba awoke abruptly when he felt two new presences into his realm. Two auras merged into one, one as bright and powerful as the light of the sun, and the other a very faint aura that was yet to properly form, and which clung to the stronger aura, almost completely merging with it, it took sharp senses to tell one apart from the other.

This could only mean one thing…

La Muerte had returned. She was back. The love of his life was coming home… but soon his hope and joy evaporated when he felt distress, fear for the life of the tiny faint aura, and much more darker auras radiating anger and appetite.

No… No! Nononono!

Xibalba tried to dart out of bed, but his legs were tangled up in his blankets and he tripped face-first into the hard floor. Xibalba grit his teeth in pain, but nevertheless he quickly kicked the blankets off him and went back on his feet; his breathing started to feel heavy because of the sudden stress, he didn’t have time to put on his armor or any sort of protection, he barely had time to grab his staff as he opened the windows of his balcony, stretching out his dark wings as he took off, ignoring the slight oppression in his chest at the sudden change of temperature as he flew towards the direction of the aura as fast as he could.

La Muerte clung close to Blanca, not daring to look back at the pursuing monsters. They seemed to remember her, they were taking a long effort to catch up to her. She had unclasped her cloak and let it fall in an attempt to slow the beasts down, but they shred it into pieces in a matter of seconds. La Muerte desperately led Blanca through the narrow paths of the realm, trying to catch a road that led to the castle. If she could cross the bridge they’d be safe. She had to get there, they had to get there… Blanca neighed in fright when one of the Forgotten Beasts jumped right in fornt of her, but thankfully La Muerte saw it coming and managed to lead her rightwards, towards a spike-like cliff. There was another spike about two meters away from it, thankfully it was too wide for the Forgotten Beasts to cross, but surely Blanca would be able to jump it with no problem at all.

“Come on, girl, you can do it!”

Blanca leaped off the ledge of the cliff, narrowly avoiding a swipe from one of the beast’s claws, and safely jumped to the other side. The Forgotten beasts stopped in their tracks when they realized the gap was too wide for them, but a few dared their luck and attempted to follow the horse into the other side, falling into the inky black chasm with screams.

La Muerte internally sighed in relief as she looked back and saw none of the other beasts were foolish enough to try and follow through there, but suddenly a blue-shaded beast jumped in front of Blanca with bristled spines, letting out a shriek. La Muerte had no time to cling to her horse as Blanca reared in fright, and the goddess fell to the ground, landing on her back with a painful thud. La Muerte yelled in pain and clutched her abdomen, trying desperately to get back on her feet. She didn’t feel any signs of miscarriage, but that could change in any minute, and she could tell something had gone lose inside her womb.

The rest of the pack had them surrounded in mere seconds, and despite Blanca’s attempts to ward off any beast that came too close, she would soon be overwhelmed by the monsters, and the two… the three would be done for. As her consciousness started to fade and the Beasts started closing in, La Muerte instinctively wrapped her arms around her abdomen in a protective way.

Blanca realized her mistress had fainted out of right and the fall, and barely managed to stomp her hooves on a monster that nearly jumped right on top of her. She let out loud neighs, as if trying to call someone’s attention, but the Forgotten Beasts who had a semblance of intelligence left in them snickered mockingly at her feeble attempts to protect the fallen goddess.

Unless…

Suddenly, a black figure clad in black landed right between the beasts and their prey, stretching out his wings menacingly. There was a dark aura swirling all around him, and his features had become darker. Draconic traits such as horns and scales had appeared on his face, his claws had lengthened and cut through the tips of his gloves, and his skull pupils had turned into slits. Xibalba roared at the Forgotten Beasts. “STAY AWAY FROM THEM! I WILL NOW ALLOW YOU TO LAY A FINGER ON MY WIFE AND CHILD!” his voice sounded like thunder and echoed through the realm. “GET OUT OF MY SIGHT OR I SHALL TEAR YOU LIMB BY LIMB AND TURN YOU INTO ASHES!”

The Forgotten Beasts stepped back in fear at the sight of the God defending the goddess, but the thing that frightened them the most was his aura. It wasn’t like those other times they had ran unto him, this time it burned with a great ire and passion, which brought them long-gone memories of a great beast that once flew above them, smoldering to ashes with its fiery breath. Shrieking in terror, the Forgotten Beasts ran away from the scene.

Xibalba’s wilder side wanted to go after the beasts and make them pay for ever thinking of harming his wife, but Blanca’s snorting caught his attention, and he remembered there were more important things he had to tend to. His aura settled down, his claws went back to normal size and the dragon features in him disappeared as he turned around to find his wife unconscious on the ground. “LA MUERTE!” In a second he was by her side, cradling her in his arms carefully and gently shaking her. “M-Mi amor, I’m here…!” His eyes were swelling up with tears, fearing the worst. He felt a twinge of relief when he felt a pulse in her, but he couldn’t be certain for the baby. He had to get her out of here, he had to take her back to the castle.

But getting her on Blanca again would possibly make things worse. He had to make sure not to move her much, this discarded flight as well. He’d have to teleport themselves back; it was risky to teleport four people at once (the baby included), but he had enough magical energy to do it, and he could sense some sort of magical charm on the child. Xibalba motioned Blanca to come closer, and stood up, holding La Muerte in his arms and close to his chest. He concentrated a great quantity of energy on himself, La Muerte and the horse, and spread out his wings. Green flames enveloped them, and a few seconds later he had send Blanca to the stables (he would have to let Juarez know of the news later) and himself and his wife back to his chambers. Swiftly, he glided over to bed and gingerly placed La Muerte on top of it, pulling the duvet on top of her to keep her warm. With his arms free, Xibalba temporally set his staff aside and summoned his quill along with a piece of paper. He quickly wrote a note to Asclepius to come as soon as possible, and gave a short whistle. He had just finished the note with his signature as his raven flew inside, landing on the bedside table while giving a caw of inquiry. Xibalba folded the note and gave it to the raven. “Take it to Asclepius now!” With that, the bird was off.

Once they were alone, Xibalba lay down next to La Muerte and brushed some hairs away from her serene face, and stroked her cheek with his thumb. She had returned on her own accord… She was back home, back at his side where she belonged, where she should have remained from the beginning.

There was a knock on the door, and Asclepius entered. He had assumed Xibalba was having trouble breathing again, but instead found La Muerte on bed, unconscious, her hair a mess and her dress ripped. “What the-?!”

“Asclepius, she was attacked by Forgotten Beasts and fell from her horse on her way here!” Xibalba stood up and glanced back at Aslepius with a worried expression. “I don’t know how she or the baby are! Please save their lives!”

“How did she-?!”

“I’ll explain you later! Just help her!”

Asclepius had many questions, but nevertheless he went to the side of the bed, placing his medical suitcase on the bedside table. “Get out for a moment.”

“You can’t ask me that! She’s my wife-!”

“And she’s very delicate! I need to tend to her, but I won’t do my job right if you’re peeking in every ten seconds!”

“But-! She-! I-!” Finally, Xibalba groaned in defeat and snatched his staff as he stomped out of the room, and the door was closed behind him. But as second passed the anger subsided and gave in to worry and regret. Xibalba had to lean against the wall to keep himself from falling over, taking a hand to his face as he let out a deep sigh.

This was all his fault.

If he hadn’t driven her away, none of this would have ever happened. Things would be so different if she hadn’t left. He would have been by her side when they found about the baby, they would have worked on the nursery together, he would have been able to care properly for her and the baby, kiss her, embrace her… she wouldn’t have had to risk her life and the baby’s to return… How had she snuck away from King Sol and Itzlacol?

When Sol found out she was here, he’d probably come down and take La Muerte away, again deny him of the right he had as a father and husband. He couldn’t let that happen, he wouldn’t know what he’d do if La Muerte were gone again, this time not on her own accord.

He wouldn’t allow it.

He couldn’t.

There was only one way to keep other gods out of his realm, the Kings themselves included if it came to that. With a grim expression, Xibalba walked down the hall and towards a door that was secluded from the rest. It was made of obsidian, and there were green swirl carvings on them. They only responded to the Ruler of the Forgotten, and so when Xibalba uttered an old spell to make them open, they lazily slid aside, revealing an inky dark room with no kind of windows. When Xibalba stepped inside, torches of green fire lit out of nowhere, illuminating the room and revealing all sort of weapons and artifacts. They had been given to Akrinok to guard back when he was King, and the duty passed on to Xibalba.

The Forbidden Artifacts.

At the end of the room there was a large black book bound in leather, there was no sort of writing on the cover. The Book of Death, the antithesis of the Book of Life, said to contain the worst curses and dark magic ever created. Xibalba shivered at the sight of the book, recalling all those many years ago when his father taught-or rather forced him to learn-magic from this book. He had never liked to use it, but this time he had something to protect that was worth breaking a rule or two. When he was before the book, Xibalba opened it with a flick of his fingers and turned the pages until he found what he was looking for. It used lots of energy and would probably zap away all of his energy if he used it, but if it worked, no one would be able to come into the Land of the Forgotten unless he said otherwise.

Xibalba closed his eyes and concentrated his dark energy into his staff, a blackish purple aura forming around him as he uttered the spell. His grip on Ponzoña’s staff form tightened and his wings spread out.

Hear my roar of ancient spelling

And my most desired truth

Souls won’t enter or hear yelling

They won’t know what’s second youth!

With that, he stamped his staff on the ground, releasing a huge wave of green energy that exploded and spread out through the castle, around it and through the Land of the Forgotten. The torches in the room extinguished when the wave touched them, leaving the room inky dark once again except for the faint coming from the hallway.

Xibalba fell to his knees, panting heavily and leaning on his staff to keep from falling over. Cold sweat trickled down his face as he managed to get back on his feet and closed the book shut, hastily making his way out of the room and managing to close the doors behind him, sealing them shut. Xibalba had to take a breath to recover, his wings dropped and the feathers brushed against the floor.

“My Lord?” Emilio had a bad feeling when out of sudden he felt a dark energy in the air, and his suspicions were confirmed when he found his master outside the Forbidden Room, panting heavily. “W-What happened? D-Did you-?”

Xibalba only uttered one sentence as he walked away. “I won’t lose her again.” He left the baffled and confused lizard behind as he returned to the doors of his chambers to wait. He was still exhausted for casting the dark magic spell, but nevertheless he stayed outside, staring at the door, waiting to hear anything from the inside.

Finally, the doors opened.

Reacting instantly, Xibalba left his seat and rushed towards Asclepius, who had a serious expression. That wasn’t a good signal. “How is she?! Is she hurt?! What happened?!” he yelled in desperation.

“La Muerte is okay, thankfully. She has a few scratches and bruises, but nothing grave.”

“And my child?”

At the mention of the baby, Asclepius sighed and looked down grimly.

“What?” Xibalba felt his heart skip a beat. “Please tell me the baby is alright!”

“The fetus is okay, but…” Another sigh. “All the stress, rough movements and the fall from the horse caused part of the placenta to detach from the uterus wall. The fetus lost vital vitamins and minerals for its development. Thankfully, La Muerte apparently used some kind of magic on it to protect it. If she hadn’t…” Asclepius shook his head. “… The little one would have had another luck.”

Xibalba froze. Although he was partly relieved that his wife and while were okay, the idea that the baby could have died made him feel even more guilty. He was relieved La Muerte had used the spell Isis had given her, it had saved the child’s life, but nevertheless he couldn’t think on the possibility. Xibalba rubbed his temples in dread. “Dios mío… I can’t believe this…” he looked down at the physician with a worried but serious expression. “Can the baby be saved?”

Asclepius nodded. “With necessary care and treatment, it has a change to survive.”

“What can I do?”

“Right now, La Muerte needs to recover all the lost minerals for the baby. She will need lots of fruits and vegetables, and I will prescript her a special tea that will strengthen the fetus, but she needs lots of rest.” Asclepius looked up at Xibalba grimly. “The most important thing, understand that she cannot get upset or be put under too much stress, the fetus wouldn’t bear it.”

Xibalba nodded solemnly. “I understand.”

“I’ll leave your servants the recipe for the tea. La Muerte should wake up soon; you may talk to her, but do not upset her, is that clear?”

“Crystal clear.”

As Asclepius walked down the hall, Xibalba walked into his room and closed the doors behind him, heading over to bed. La Muerte was still unconscious, but Asclepius had put some alcohol and gauzes on her scratches, and anti-inflammatory ointment on her bruises. He noticed her hands had not left her abdomen; even unconscious, she did everything to protect her little one. Xibalba placed his staff aside and sat down in the edge of the bed, laying down on his side next to his wife and pulling her close, staring adoringly at her as he reached out to hold her hand.

“Please hang on, mi amor…” he whispered, stroking his cheek tenderly with his left hand. “I know you can do it, you are one of the strongest women I’ve ever met… Do it for our baby…” his right hand rested on her abdomen. It had already started to grow, even if faintly, she was nearing the third month, he had read that the baby practiced breathing at this stage, but she wouldn’t hear until much later. Still, he directed his next words at his unborn baby. “There, there, it’s okay, pequeño… You and your mami are going to be okay, I promise. I won’t let anything happen to either of you.”

He waited, holding his wife close and stroking her head with all the love in his heart, covering her with his wing to make her feel safe.

La Muerte started to stir awake, and the first thing she did was to take her hands to her abdomen. Thank heaven, her child seemed to be alright, but as she shifted to accommodate herself, she felt something familiar about the surface she was on… she felt a familiar warmth over her, and as she cracked her eyes open she noted she was not in the cold landscape of the Land of the Forgotten, but in a very familiar place which she had been in numerous times. “What… Where am I…?”

“Shhh, you are safe now.”

That voice… Could it be…? When her vision cleared up, she realized her ‘blanket’ was a pitch-black wing. La Muerte glanced to her right and round Xibalba laying down next to her with a relieved expression. Her mind was in a blurry state for the time being, and she found hard to remember what had happened. “What happened…?” she whispered, blinking a few times. “I d-don’t remember anything….”

“It’s normal, you were really frightened.” Xibalba gently said, taking his wife’s hand tenderly. “The Forgotten Beasts attacked you, I saved you before they could harm you.”

Forgotten Beasts… The memories came back and joined together like a small puzzle, riding through the Land of the Forgotten, growls, Blanca’s frightened neighs and….

“The baby, how’s my baby?” La Muerte tried to sit up, but Xibalba gently pushed her back down. She caught a glimpse of his expression turning worried again.

“Please try to relax, you have to calm down.”

“Is something wrong with the baby? Do you know anything?” When his eyes flashed with worry and anguish, she knew he knew something. Xibalba apparently noticed, for his hold on her hand tightened.

How could he tell this to her? Asclepius had ben very clear when he said no upsetting her, or it could affect the baby. But if he hid it from her she would worry further, it would be best that she learned about it at once rather than let her find out from another source. He knew she didn’t like that.

“La Muerte…” he sighed, looking down sadly. “You got too stressed and frightened, so much that you fainted. If the mother is in distress for too long, it can affect the baby.”

She didn’t like where this was going. “What are you saying…?”

“For now you have to rest and stay as much calm as possible, you’ll probably have to stay in bed for a while… or you could lose the baby.”

La Muerte took her hand to her mouth in shock. “W-What…?” Her eyes swelled up with tears as her worst fears seemingly came true. She took her hands back to her belly as if wanting to protect the little life in there. “My b-baby could…?”

It took Xibalba a lot of effort to continue. “Asclepius checked on you while you were unconscious. He said part of the placenta detached from your uterus, and you lost vitamins and minerals essential for the baby, it was caused by too much stress. He said the baby is at risk of miscarriage.”

The goddess gasped in horror once more at the word ‘miscarriage’. Her baby could die, the baby could have died. “I’m going to…?” the tears trickled down her cheeks now. “It can’t be…!”

“No, La Muerte! Don’t even think about it!” Xibalba’s hands quickly grabbed hers, squeezing them reassuringly. “Asclepius gave you a prescription, and recommended that you eat fruits, vegetables and a special tea.” He brushed a hair away from her face. “But the most important, you have too stay calm and rest in bed as much as possible.” He panicked when sobs escaped his wife.

“How could I’ve been so reckless…?”

“Mi amor, this is not your fault. You never wanted any of this to happen.” He pulled her into a hug, wrapping both wings around her. “Everything’s going to be alright, I’m here…”

La Muerte returned the embrace, accepting it and snuggling into it, burying her face into Xibalba’s bare chest as she sobbed uncontrollably. She didn’t say anything as she felt Xibalba stroking her head tenderly, shushing and telling her it was going to be alright. It made him recall the many times he held her like this, he wanted to let her know she was not alone anymore, that he would be there for her always.

“My baby…”

“Shhh…” Xibalba wiped some of her tears away with his thumbs. “You have nothing to fear, mi amor… You are already an excellent mother even if the baby hasn’t been born yet.”

“What if I…? What am I going to do if the baby…?”

“Don’t even think about it. The baby is strong…” Xibalba pulled back from the hug and smiled at his wife sadly. “… just like his mother.”

La Muerte couldn’t help but blush as she looked up at him. “You think so…?”

“I know so.” He lowered his hand to her abdomen. “You’ll see. He or she is going to be a very healthy and beautiful baby. How about some of that tea for now?”

“Ok…”

Xibalba grabbed his staff, turning Ponzoña to life, and whispered into his ear. Ponzoña nodded with glee and slithered off into the dark and out of the room. Once they were alone, he turned to his wife. “La Muerte…” he grabbed her hand again. “You came back…”

La Muerte nodded, resting her head against the pillows. “I’m your wife, remember? I’m supposed to be by your side in the good and the bad.”

Xibalba chuckled sadly. “I know… You could have told me, you know. I would have been able to prepare to receive you properly.”

“I wanted it to be a surprise.”

“You did surprise me, my dear… Not in the way we would both have wanted, but you surprised me. It was brave on your part, Sol might have caught you.”

“Aimé will tell him I would spend some days with Xochiquétzal to assimilate what happened. Xochi agreed to keep the secret too.”

Another chuckle. She was such a clever woman. “Smart on your part. But lying to your dear papa?” he raised an eyebrow playfully. “Are you the same La Muerte I met a year ago?”

La Muerte giggled a bit. “It was a little white lie. If I had told him I was coming to see you he would have locked my door and windows to keep me from leaving.”

“Anything to keep you away from me, or in his perspective, the other way around, especially with Itzlacol still swooning all around you.” Xibalba tensed up at the mention of his hated rival. “If you had heard all the things he told me he would do to you… I swear, I wanted to kill him in that moment.”

“It’s okay, you know I would have never allowed him to touch the baby. Or me.”

Xibalba smiled and lifted a hand to caress his wife’s cheek. “Are there any reasons of why I should love you even more?”

La Muerte smiled at him. “That’s up to you to find out…” she narrowed her eyes playfully. “If you want us back, that is.”

“Want you back?” Xibalba leaned in towards her abdomen and kissed it, it was directed towards their child. “I would do anything to have the two of you back.”

Another giggle. “And you were saying you wouldn’t be a good daddy.”

“Maybe, it’s just… I’m still a bit afraid of becoming like… him.”

“You are not like him. If you were you would have left me there to be torn apart by those monsters. If you were you wouldn’t have snuck into my birthday just to apologize.”

Xibalba chuckled as he tightened his hold on her hand. “I promise you, mi corazón, I will never let you go again.”

There was a knock on the door. Gael peeked his head in and walked in with a cup of tea in his hands. He was surprised when he found La Muerte in his master’s bed, but guessed now was not the time to ask questions. He simply walked over to his master and handed the cup over to him. Xibalba accepted it and sent Gael away silently with a small wave of his hand. The lizard bowed lightly and left the room, closing the door behind him silently.

“Here you go, mi amor.” He said, handing the cup over to his wife. “It’ll be good for the baby.”

La Muerte stared at the hot black liquid for a while before taking a small sip form it. She wrinkled her nose and scowled with disgust at the bitter taste, her stomach churning. “It tastes horrible.” She said, shivering uncomfortably. Heck, even the baby seemed to dislike the taste of the tea, she faintly felt the little one squirming inside her belly.

“I don’t like to take my medicine either.” Xibalba chuckled as he rubbed his forearms.

La Muerte stroked her abdomen with a hand. “Poor baby. I have the feeling she will grow to hate tea.”

“She?”

“I have the feeling we’re having a girl.”

“How can you be certain?”

“Well…” La Muerte was staring down at her unborn child with a smile. “I guess it’s mother’s intuition.”

“A girl…” Xibalba hadn’t thought about the possibility of a female heir, but he didn’t really mind the gender. Boy or girl, the little one was his, theirs. He smiled as he placed his hand on La Muerte’s abdomen once again. “I hope she’ll take more after you.”

“I’d like a little you running around here, don’t you think?”

He shivered at the idea. “Oh, no. One me is enough, believe me.”

La Muerte took another gulp of the bitter tea, sticking out her tongue again. There was still something that was bothering her. “I’m still worried about father…”

“What about him now? That he doesn’t like me?” Xibalba sighed in dismay and rested his chin on his hand. “That’s no news.”

“It’s not only that…”

“But?”

“He still wants me to get together with Itlzacol, and he’ll eventually find out I’m here…”

“As much as he wants it, it’s impossible for you two to be together. You are still my wife, and since you’re carrying our child an annulment is impossible now…” But there were two ways to annul a marriage. Itzlacol had already tried the other way, and he wouldn’t be surprised it wouldn’t be the first time he’d try. The threats of what Itzlacol could do to his wife and child if he succeeded were still fresh in his mind. Xibalba tried to change the subject, and glanced at the cup of tea, noticing there was only a bit left. “There’s still some tea left.”

With one final gulp, La Muerte drank the last of the tea. Again, she and the baby shivered in disgust. “Definitely, the baby is going to hate tea.”

Xibalba took a sniff of the cup when La Muerte handed it over to him, and wrinkled his nose in disgust. “Yup. Definitely.” He placed the cup on the bedside table and lay down on bed, next to his wife, pulling her closer with a wing. La Muerte blushed and snuggled against him, making him smile and plant a kiss on her head. “Say, how did you react when you learned you were pregnant.”

“Well…” La Muerte didn’t know how to properly describe it. “I was happy at the prospect of motherhood, but at the same time I was afraid… I didn’t know how father would react.”

“And as I could tell, he didn’t take it as bad as we thought.”

“He loves his grandchild, even though she’s yours… He is excited at the idea.”

Xibalba couldn’t contain another smile as he pulled his wife closer with his wing. The idea of having a baby with the woman he loved, the expression of the feelings they shared… It warmed his head and made his chest swell up with fatherly pride. He swore his eyes were swelling up with tears again. “Mine…”

“Xibalba, are you crying?”

“Shouldn’t I? I’m going to be a papi.”

“I never thought I’d see you cry, that’s all…”

“I think you’ve seen my cry a few times already, remember?”

“You know what I mean. When we first met I never thought I’d see you cry.”

“I know… I must admit, I’ve changed quite a lot ever since you came into my life… And some new facts from my past came into light. After you left, I mean…” La Muerte shifted uncomfortably. He noticed and rubbed her shoulder in comfort. “Well, at least my father won’t haunt me anymore-“ Xibalba stopped abruptly when he realized he had said too much, panicking when La Muerte looked curiously at him. Maldita sea.

“Your father?” she inquired. “What do you mean?”

“Umm, well, I…” Damn it, how could she explain it to her without making her think he was nuts? Finally, he let out a sigh of defeat. “After his death, his…. Kind of ghost started to wander around here, and he often came to haunt and discourage me…” he felt like an idiot, but thankfully La Muerte didn’t seem to think so. “I never thought it was even possible.”

“It seems it is…”

“I mean, gods turning into ghosts…? Sometimes I wonder if I wasn’t hallucinating and seeing things, but they all felt so real..”

“Who knows?” La Muerte thought for a moment. “Maybe something prevented him from resting in peace.”

“Or someone…” Xibalba decided to change the subject. He didn’t want to ruin the moment. “Anyway, I can’t wait to see Zipacna’s face when he learns you came back.”

“Speaking of Zipacna, is something going between him and Epona? I noticed they were pretty close the last time I saw them.”

“N-No!” Xibalba blushed. “I mean, they do seem to be growing pretty close over a short time, but they’re just being friendly!”

“Are you jealous?”

“Why would I? You’re the only woman I love.” Before she could tease him any further, there was a gentle knock on the door. Xibalba sighed in relief, making La Muerte giggle in triumph. “Come in.”

Emilio peeked his head in, and his eyes widened when his suspicions were confirmed. “My Lord… and Lady.” He was pushed forward by Roberto, Lorenzo and Juarez, and they scrambled to get back on their feet.

“HA! I told you! You owe me five pesos!”

“Get your tail off me!”

“Eyup!”

“Seriously, Lorenzo?! Is that all you have to say?!”

La Muerte started to laugh while Xibalba smacked his forehead in frustration, muttering under his breath. When the four lizards managed to get back on their feet and walk closer to bed, they gave their mistress a respectful bow. La Muerte managed to calm down as she smiled kindly at them, she had missed their antics very much. “It’s nice to see you guys again.” She said gently.

Much to her surprise, Roberto rushed forward to give her a friendly hug, chirping. “Its good to have you back, My Lady!”

Lorenzo rolled his eyes and Juarez suppressed a laugh, while Emilio yelped in dismay and horror, glancing at his master in worry, wondering if he’d punish Roberto for that. Xibalba, however, looked more amused and annoyed. When the lizard didn’t let go of his wife, however, he grew uncomfortable and let out a small cough. “I think that’s enough, Roberto.”

“Just, the next time could you tell us beforehand? I nearly had a heart attack when Blanca appeared out of nowhere in the stables!” Juarez stated.

“Sorry for that.” Xibalba apologized. “Long story.”

“How are you feeling, my lady?” Emilio inquired, reaching out to take the cup of tea from the bedside table.

La Muerte smiled at him. “I’m feeling alright, don’t worry, Emilio.” She noticed Regina wasn’t present in the ‘welcome committee’. “Where’s Regina?”

“She’ll be up in a few minutes, she was making something tasty.” Emilio blushed. “My lady, forgive my boldness, but we missed you very much.”

Roberto spoke next. “Yeah, things were a bit off without you.”

Lorenzo nodded. “Eyup.”

“I missed you guys too.” The goddess sighed, glancing at the lizards with great affection. “You always make things interesting around here.”

Xibalba gulped when his servants turned to look at him with amusing looks. “Err… Well…”

“We are making things interesting?” Juarez asked him amusingly.

“ W-What? You don’t have to rub it in my face all the time!”

Roberto chuckled. “Things got interesting when you destroyed half the castle after La Muerte left.”

“ROBERTO!” Emilio took his hands to his head in horror. He had told him thrice not to say anything about that! He gulped when he saw the dismayed and angry expression on Xibalba’s face.

La Muerte looked up at her husband amusingly. “He did?”

“More or less.” Juarez chuckled.

Emilio had enough. “Okay, all of you! We have to see if Regina is done with her tasty surprise!” He had started to push the rest of the lizards out of the room, ignoring their yells and protests when the door opened again and Regina walked in with a tray of sweet-smelling rolls.

“What’s going on?” she inquired.

“Nothing!” Emilio responded as he quickly pushed the other lizards out.

Regina rolled her eyes as she walked towards bed with the tray. La Muerte felt her mouth watering at the sight of those rolls, and the delicious sweet fragrance coming from them. “What are those?” she asked.

“A batch of sugar-basted rolls!” Regina explained, placing the tray on the table. “The dough was basted in a special sugar mixture before being baked, then each was filled with mixed fruit blend. Another of Lady Selena’s recipes.”

La Muerte grabbed one of the rolls and gave it a bite. There was an instant part of sweetness in her mouth. There was a good blend in the filling, and the bread had an exquisite texture with refined sweetness. “They’re delicious!”

“I figured you’d want something sweet after having to drink that tea.” Xibalba smiled at his wife. “He couldn’t contain his sweet tooth and grabbed one of the sweet rolls, taking it into his mouth. Waves of memories came back as he savored the treat in his mouth, enjoying the filling and the bread’s texture. “My compliments, Regina.”

“Thank you, My Lord and Lady.” Regina bowed, smiling.

“It’s one of Selena’s recipes.”

“It is, though I’m afraid it’s not exactly like when she made them. Her blend allowed people to taste each individual flavor of fruit in the mixture.”

“I think this is fantastic.” La Muerte had taken the third sweet roll into her mouth. “I wish Amy could taste this.”

Regina gave the two gods a small curtsy before leaving to continue with her chores, and let the two spend some time alone. La Muerte and Xibalba enjoyed the sweet rolls, the baby happily squirming in her mother’s womb. Soon the tray was empty, with only a few crumbs of the bread and a bit of the filling left. “I truly missed it here…” La Muerte sighed after a while.

Xibalba looked at his wife, glancing at her baby bump once again. “We all missed you, mi amor…”

“I missed you all too…”

“And… about the castle…” Xibalba blushed in embarrassment, his feathers shifting. “Maybe I did destroy a few rooms…” he let out a nervous chuckle.

“Roberto just mentioned it.”

“It wasn’t half of the castle!”

“I guess you redecorated a bit.”

“Sort of. At least it was a good excuse to change some things. And now that I recall…” Xibalba rubbed the back of his head. “Well, you left most of your things in your room. You could… Well, if you w-want to stay h-here you c-could… I d-don’t mind…” He was stuttering again, damn it.

La Muerte thought for a moment; he did have a point there, she didn’t take her things when she left, at least she didn’t have to worry about what to wear. “I guess I could stay. You said I couldn’t leave bed, anyway.”

“Well, you could stay in my room…” he flinched when she gave him a questioning look. “I mean, it’s more comfortable and you can’t leave bed, so technically I’ll have to look after you while you’re stuck.”

La Muerte gave a sigh, glancing at the ceiling of the canopy. She recalled a funny coincidence that happened months ago. “Doesn’t it remind you of something?”

“That was my intention. The first time you were attacked by Forgotten Beasts and I saved you, you took care of me.” Xibalba chuckled fondly at the memory. “You could say I’m repaying the favor.”

“Technically, in this occasion you have two people to look after, if you think about it.”

Xibalba smiled as he stroked her abdomen again. “Did my two girls like the treat? Do you have any other cravings? Tell me and I shall get, even if I have to go to the end of the world.

“Well…” La Muerte tapped her chin with a playful smile, as if thinking. “Now that you mention it, I’ve been wanting one of those Romanian desserts for a while… I think they were named papanas…”

Shoot. Of all the dishes she could have picked she had to pick the one which he didn’t have the recipe of. He had the feeling he’d have to go all the way to Romania to get a batch of those, but it was worth if it meant making his wife happy. “Papanas will be, then.”

“You’re so sweet when you want to be, you know…”

“No sweeter than you, my dear…”

Xibalba didn’t know if now was a good time, but he wanted to steal a kiss from his lovely wife. He wasn’t sure if she was in the mood for it, so he better do it quick, and subtly leaned his face closer in for a kiss, but La Muerte had gotten to know his movements and body language from all the time she spent there, and she wouldn’t let him take her by surprise this time. Much to his surprise, La Muerte pulled him down by the beard and pressed her lips against his own. Xibalba’s wings had spread out in surprise, nearly knocking off the tray from the bedside table, but soon he returned the gesture and his hands found their way to his wife’s cheeks.

As they kissed, their hearts started to beat in perfect synchrony as they explored each other’s mouths once more. Xibalba’s mouth was bigger than hers, but his kisses were very controlled yet passionate and tender. After a while, they had to separate, panting. La Muerte smiled. 2you haven’t lost your touch.”

“Mi amor, how I missed your kisses…” Xibalba panted, smiling as he licked his lips smeared with his wife’s cherry-flavored lipstick. “Definitely there’s nothing sweeter than you…” But as he leaned in for another kiss, La Muerte placed her hands on his chest and gently pushed him away.

“Be careful with the baby.” She reminded him she was still delicate.

Xibalba blushed. “I’m sorry, I… I didn’t mean to… I am…” he felt further embarrassed when she giggled at his stuttering.

“You’re cute when you’re nervous.”

“I’m sorry, my love, I… I should go get your papanas before all the decent bakeries in Romania close for the day.” He stood up from bed, pulling up the duvet over his wife and child gently, and went to his wardrobe put on a black long-sleeved shirt. “You just rest, okay? If you need anything, whatever it is, call for Emilio and the others. Thankfully I will be back in half-an-hour…”

La Muerte shifted in bed and smiled up at him. “Okay…”

With a smile and another kiss on her forehead, Xibalba made his way to the door and glanced one last time at his wife before going out, closing the door silently behind him. He leaned against the doors, letting out a dreamy sigh; she was had returned to his side, her rightful place. He wished he could have received her like she deserved, but what mattered was that they were both alright and safe; he would make sure she was the happiest woman in the world, he’d make up to her for everything, he would take good care of her and the baby.

Speaking of which, if he didn’t hurry up the best bakeries in Romania would close.

Chapter Text

Dark Magic was a very discussed topic among all the pantheons of the world. Though each had their own opinions about the use of the Dark Arts, most forbad its use to most, the only exception being Death and Darkness deities. However, in the Aztec Pantheon the use of Dark Magic was strictly forbidden even for the little Death Gods that still remained, since its use was that condemned most of the Lords of the Underworld back in their day. Any use of dark magic could be severely punished by the Kings should they catch anyone use it.

Because of this, the Candlemaker grew worried when suddenly he felt a dark disturbance in the Cave of Souls coming from waterfall that led to the Land of the Forgotten. His first reaction was to go to the secluded chamber where the Gods’ candles were located, apart from the mortals’ candles. Each was kept on a special lantern, all carved and made from materials according to said God or Goddess’s power and personalities. The Candlemaker immediately headed to a lantern made of black obsidian with green swirl; inside it, the black candle’s normally green fire had turned into a deep bluish purple, the hue the fire acquired whenever its owner used dark magic. A few moments later it changed back into green.

“Xibalba, what did you do now…?!” the Candlemaker hissed nervously, heading out of the room and back towards the Waterfall Chamber. The Book of Life flew towards the Candlemaker, flapping its pages in worry.

“Okay, don’t panic! Thankfully it’ll be just a misunderstanding, I mean, I know Xibalba’s reckless, a bit arrogant and he doesn’t kind of care for the rules that much, but he’d never use dark magic without permission… would he?” True, he and Xibalba weren’t exactly close friends, but this didn’t mean he didn’t care for him. “Then again, it wouldn’t hurt to take a peek, would it?”

The Book of Life opened its pages and skipped them to Xibalba’s Story. The Candlemaker started to read the dark pages.

‘As he lay dormant in his dark castle, Xibalba felt a new presence in his realm. And it didn’t take him long to realize that the auras belonged to the woman he loved and carried his unborn child…’

Wait, what?! La Muerte was with him?! The Candlemaker quickly turned the pages to La Muerte’s story and took a quick read.