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The house on the hill was quiet. It had been so noisy for so many years. Raising three children - and the teenager they'd accidentally acquired - meant you could hardly cross from one room to another without hearing squabbling or complaints or laughter. Pacha never minded. Noise meant love. Walking out the door in the morning to choruses of bye, dad! Coming back in to bright smiles and hi, dad! it had been everything to him.
Llama farming was hard work, simple and honest, he loved every minute of it. It provided for his family, his village, the empire. Waking every morning to his beautiful wife, their children, and tending his herd - no, he wouldn't have changed his life at all.
Yet. There was something to be said for the quiet.
He'd feared it once. Dreading the day his eldest went back to the palace, then as his children got married and moved out. The quiet was supposed to have meant an end to the love. The chaos, the fun, the life he'd lived. The only life he'd ever wanted.
Quiet didn't mean that the love was gone. Just that it had grown. Changed. Stronger for the transformation.
He was no longer just a husband and father, he was a father-in-law, a grandfather, an elder of the village. His heart had expanded, finding more love than he'd ever thought could be possible.
The house was quiet when Pacha woke, early as always. Today he laid in. Chicha slept deeply beside him, breaths soft and even, lost to peaceful dreams. Once he would have kissed her forehead and eased out of bed, dressing to tend the herd.
Now that was Tico's job.
It had been one of the proudest days of his life (and there were too many to count) when his middle child had come to him and said he was taking on the family business. Like Pacha's father, and his father, and his.
Tico was still mischievous at heart, but he'd grown into a good man and a better father even than Pacha was. The family business was in the best hands it could be.
Pacha laid in bed and watched his wife sleep, falling more in love with her for every tiny line on her face, every silver strange streaking her hair. In truth, he could have continued llama farming for another ten years, but a surprisingly wise man had talked him into early retirement. Something about the virtues of spending time with the people you love.
Kuzco had been right. A fact the emperor never failed to bring up when the family was all together. But his cocky I'm always right smirk was entirely earned every time. Handing over the business had been the best choice he'd ever made, business wise.
Pacha had never known what he was missing, slipping out of bed in the mornings, coming back for breakfast after tending to the herd. Chicha was adorable in her sleep. The way her eyelashes fluttered, her nose wrinkling as she drew closer to waking. The muffled yawn and sleepy smiles, the pillow creases on her cheek and the way she'd lean up and kiss him.
He couldn't believe he'd missed it for so long.
Chicha's nose wrinkled, a sleepy grumble leaving her lips. Pacha leaned in and kissed her sweetly.
“Good morning, my love.”
Pacha was rewarded with the sleepy smile he loved so much. “Good morning.”
In the winter, they could lie together for an hour or more, only driven from the warmth of their bed by grumbling stomachs or the shouts of visitors from downstairs. Now, in summer, the heat from the newly risen sun made lingering for too long uncomfortable.
Chicha liked the heat, but she despised being sticky.
So he wasn't surprised when she kissed him again and nudged him out of bed.
“I'll make breakfast, you go feed Misty.”
“Misty Five,” Pacha muttered, but followed his wife's bidding.
Despite what Kronk wanted him to think, Pacha knew she wasn't the original Misty. Feigning amazement each time ‘Misty’ was suddenly back in her pen when he was sure they'd said their goodbyes. It made Kronk happy to think he was giving them joy, and going along with it was a small enough thing. Kronk had a way with picking good llamas (Tico was probably involved but Pacha wasn't going to press).
Misty Five butted affectionately against his hand as he fed her, Pacha whispering what a good girl she was while he enjoyed the cool breeze.
He sighed in contentment, petting Misty Five and looking out over the neighbouring hill. The only house there was grander than his own, set lower so that it somehow didn't outshine Pacha's own. The door slammed open, Pacha seeing red and glittering gold and a bright, warm smile.
“Pacha!”
Pacha smiled, raising his free hand in a wave.
The thing about the quiet of retirement? It never lasted long.
“Good morning, Kuzco!” Pacha pointed back at his house. “Chicha's making breakfast!”
Kuzco did a little dance in his doorway (what he'd no doubt call his vacation groove) and pumped his fist. “Yes!”
Pacha chuckled and wandered back inside, kissing his wife's cheek and definitely not sampling the food she was preparing. “We're having visitors.”
Chicha nodded once, “Good. They don't eat right at the Palace.”
Pacha didn't comment on the finest chefs in the land cooking at the Palace, nodding in complete agreement. Logic could not dent mothers instincts. “Yes, dear.”
“I knew we should have brought theme music guy,” Kuzco grumbled, heralding their arrival. “How are we supposed to walk in without-”
“Say hello, Kuzco,” Malina said, exasperated as only the Empress could be.
“Lame,” Kuzco pouted, but three seconds later, “Hello!”
Wiping her hands, Chicha walked out of the kitchen. Pacha trailed behind. First Kuzco, then Malina, were wrapped in tight hugs. Chicha ushering then into the dining room.
“How's Little Pacha?” Pacha asked, taking his place by his wife.
“Kuzco Junior!” Kusco automatically corrected, mouth full of breakfast.
Every time. Even though Kuzco himself had named his son, he liked to pretend that his son's name was an error of administration not sentimental at all.
Malina cast her gaze to the ceiling, sighing too fondly. “Little Pacha is finishing his last week of the year at school. Looking forward to spending the summer here.”
“We're looking forward to seeing more of him,” Chicha replied, her eyes warming at the thought of summer with their first grandbaby.
“I'm just glad he gets to go to school without the emperor's advisor trying to turn him into rabbits and pumas and Micchu Pacchu knows what else,” Kusco interrupted, but his eyes smiled. “Though I wouldn't put it past her.”
“Kuzco!” Malina scolded, swatting him on the arm.
Chicha rolled her eyes. “Be nice about your sister.”
Kuzco rolled his eyes back, hiding his grin behind his cup. “Yes, mom.”
Chicha didn't correct him, she hadn't in a long time.
“Anyway, the Emperor's Advisor is bringing Little Pach- Kuzco Junior.” Kuzco cleared his throat, glaring at them as if to say you heard nothing. “Isaid Kuzco Junior! She's bringing Kuzco Junior home after his exams.”
Chicha narrowed her eyes. “So we'll have the whole family home for the summer?”
“That's the plan,” Malina confirmed, “Yupi will have summer off from teaching, and Kronk, Birdwell and their kids are free, and we're all here. And Tico lives in the village and-”
“Kuzco won't make up silly errands to keep Chaca out of the village for the summer,” Kuzco repeated, Malina kissing his cheek in reward. He lit up, then blushed and said, “So, Pacha, how's retirement?”
“Bliss,” Pacha smiled, utterly certain. Be it the quiet of the mornings or having his house invaded by kids and in-laws and grandbabies, it was the best thing ever to happen. “You were right, Kuzco, there's nothing like spending time with the people I love. You should think about it.”
“Nah,” Kuzco waved a hand. “Little Pacha's got some youth to have before I dump an empire on his shoulders. I'll stick to delegating to Chaca and hiding, I mean resting in our summer home.”
“Very wise, Kuzco,” Chicha praised, Pacha humming his agreement.
“You know you're always welcome here,” he added, flashing his (almost) son a smile.
“That's why we come so often,” Kuzco agreed, then wrinkled his nose and changed the subject to Tico's latest llama involved prank, setting a whole herd loose in the palace.
Pacha laughed, tickled pink. Yeah, that was his son.
They whiled the day away. Chicha and Malina sunbathing by the lake while Kuzco challenged Pacha to a repeat of their annual bellyflop championship. Kuzco lost (won for style, old man!) and insisted he threw it out of respect for his elders, but it didn't stop him from striking dramatic poses every time he climbed dripping out of the lake. They ate picnic style on the lakeshore, then Kuzco started a water fight (insisting a squirrel did it) which Chicha and Malina teamed up to win, and Pacha floated peacefully on the surface.
Yeah, retirement was good. Whiling a hot day away in a cool lake, with some of the people he loved most in the world. How could life get any better?
“Hi, Dad!”
“Hi, Dad!”
“Hey, Pacha!”
“Grandpa!”
Pacha rolled over in the water, peering through sodden hair. The lakeshore was crowded. Tico, his wife, their three children. Yupi, his wife and their daughter. Kronk and Birdwell and their troop of children, all dressed in junior chipmunk uniforms. Chaca in her advisor’s finery, her arm around the shoulders of Little Pacha (the splitting image of his father, balanced out by his mother's spirit).
Kuzco surfaced beside him, shooting him a wink and a smug smile. Pacha didn't need to ask if this was Kuzco's idea, he knew. “Good surprise?”
“Best surprise, son,” Pacha said, choked and not because of the water.
They paddled back to shore, Pacha immediately surrounded by love. His family clamouring for attention, chatting a mile a minute about what happened since the last time they spoke.
Quiet was good. He and Chicha had raised their children - all four of them - and earned their peace. But there was time for the quiet in the mornings, late at night, in the still moments. But noise? That was where the love shone through, changed and grown for all the quiet times too.
There was nothing more peaceful than being surrounded by each and every person he loved, knowing he had all the time in the world to spend with them.
Yes. Retirement was bliss.