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“should i be worried?”
mavuika turns to look toward xilonen, so uncharacteristically stern, with the best smile she can offer. “xi, really, we both know that i am rather strong. the traveler will be there as well, and we all saw how powerful they are.”
her girlfriend scoffs, rolling her eyes. she has yet to move from her place leaning against the doorway, sharp eyes trained unrelenting on the archon preparing herself to leave. they’ve been here a thousand times when mavuika goes off to the stadium for work every morning, but it’s never felt so severe. so final.
xilonen’s home is filled with little mementos of her, signs of two people. there are more pillows on the bed than a single person would ever need. there’s a second toothbrush in her bathroom. when she returns after her day, there is always a leather jacket already hung up in her closet that doesn’t belong to her.
mavuika hasn’t slept over in over a month. they have barely been able to see each other outside of official meetings and reparations. the leather jacket hasn’t been seen in xilonen’s apartment in even longer.
“mavuika,” she says, and watches her girlfriend wince. “you can’t just ask me to complete all these preparations and not tell me what is going on.”
“you do know what’s happening,” her archon responds, straightening. “we’ve already discussed this with everyone else. the traveler and i will attempt to defeat the abyss and purge its influence from the night kingdom permanently.”
“yeah, that’s what you said with everyone else,” xilonen snaps, stepping closer. “but do you really think i haven’t noticed? you would trust me with your weapon, but you wouldn’t trust me with whatever you're planning??”
and – oh . that’s palpable hurt, mavuika can tell, even underneath all of the carefully projected scorn in xilonen’s voice. she’s putting up a good front, all crossed arms and lazily flicking her tail, and for anyone else she would seem perfectly bored.
but mavuika’s not just anyone else, and she’s seen xilonen truly upset more than anyone else than natlan – even if that’s not saying much – and she's not so foolish that she cannot recognize that that what is happening right now.
she hasn’t been very fair to xilonen, has she?
“look,” her girlfriend continues, scowling. “you’ve been slowly moving your belongings out. i’m not blind, mavuika.”
she winces again. she had known that xilonen would realize at some point, but she had really hoped it would’ve been after everything was over. perhaps it is cowardly of her, but she holds no interest in watching her lover’s pain. “it’s not that.”
“yeah? it’s not?” xilonen narrows her eyes. “what do you think i’m supposed to gather from that? my girlfriend is dumping me before she goes off to decide natlan’s future?”
“you know that’s not why,” mavuika frowns. she desperately wants to step closer, try to comfort xilonen, but she’s never quite been good at emotions. she doesn’t want to make things worse. not now, of all times.
“i know,” xilonen says, and there’s a suspiciously misty sheen to her eyes. it twists mavuika’s heart more, even though she knows that it will not improve from here. there is nothing she can do, no matter how much she hates it.
“xi,” she says, taking a deep breath. “i’m just worried for you, as well. nothing is going to happen if everything goes according to plan, but there's always the possibility of there being something unexpected in the night kingdom. perhaps citlali made a mistake, or it changed. i have to be prepared for that.”
“citlali doesn’t make mistakes,” xilonen says automatically, but the fire has long gone from her voice. “mavuika. please. please, just tell me.”
xilonen doesn’t plead. it’s one of the first things mavuika ever learned about her when she met the legendary name engraver for the first time, when she awoke in this new version of natlan, five hundred years estranged from the one that she had known. even to her archon, xilonen completes her commissions on her own time, in the way she wants. mavuika has always loved that about her.
xilonen is one of the few people who know exactly what they want and are perfectly capable in getting it. she lives her life exactly as she has always wanted and always will and has never allowed anyone else to change that for her, unmovable as the geo she wields.
mavuika has never given herself that option – her life is for the people of natlan first and foremost – but she can admit that xilonen’s tenacity and fierceness is incredibly admirable. enviable, even, on the harder days.
xilonen has never once pleaded. it feels wrong for mavuika to be the source of it now. mavuika is her archon - it is her responsibility to ensure that all of the citizens of natlan are safe and happy, and for her to be the direct reason for the despair of one of them is a failure of her duty.
mavuika wants to answer her. it would be easy to simply open her mouth and tell xilonen everything – xbalanque, ronova, the lord of the night – but she cannot.
this is not about her. this is about natlan. the groundwork for this day was laid over a thousand years ago, slowly built up over the past millennia, and she refuses to be the reason that natlan falls to the abyss.
“i’m sorry,” she says finally. “i’ve told you everything.”
“right,” mavuika can see the way that xilonen steels herself, forcing herself into a facade of calm. she wipes away any sign of anger or sadness with terrifying smoothness and offers her a nod. “of course.”
and archons, she can’t let it end like this. she doesn’t want xilonen’s last memory of her to be of an argument. she loves her too much to do that to her.
not enough to tell her, a voice says, and it’s true, but xilonen knew what she was doing when she entered a relationship with mavuika. she will always be a pyro archon first, even if the lazy mornings with her girlfriend are so horrifyingly tempting.
she will miss those mornings. she will miss being able to wake and turn to see the ocelot sleeping quietly beside her. she will miss being able to count the freckles dotted across xilonen’s face like constellations of a world beyond the sky. she will miss getting up, cooking their favorite breakfasts, and returning to her girlfriend still fast asleep underneath a blanket, snatching the few moments of peace they have each day.
she will miss xilonen when it’s all over. her girlfriend is steadfast, constant as the earth itself, but mavuika was born in flames. her life will be extinguished. it could never have been any other way.
“i love you, xilonen,” mavuika breathes out, eyes locked onto her lover’s, her emerald eyes wide and glossing over. “i’m so, so sorry.”
“you idiot,” xilonen chokes out, face twisted up, and it’s second nature for mavuika to step closer and cut her off with a kiss.
xilonen melts into it, hands reaching out around mavuika’s waist and gripping her with a desperation they can both feel. mavuika can taste the fear underneath the sugar of xilonen’s lips, but she closes her eyes and pulls her closer.
there is a sense of ending, here. xilonen is no fool, and mavuika – mavuika has known for a long time, now.
there is a sense of ending, here. it’s been trapped between the two of them for weeks, seeping through the windows and into the shadows where mavuika’s leather jacket used to hang, soaking into the bed where they used to sleep together.
she will not return to this home tomorrow and they both know it, even if xilonen refuses to acknowledge it. so neither will she. it’s easy, to say nothing, and hold her lover like the final piece to a puzzle that she has spent her life solving.
xilonen tastes like sunlight. it’s funny, almost. mavuika is the pyro archon, and yet this is the one fire that she will never be able to touch again.