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Xilonen always tries to find time for music festivals with the People of the Springs. She likes to catch up with her friends, eat good food and take her turn on the stage for the dancing crowds. She brings Kachina with her, the kid loves it.
When the scheduling of a festival coincides with her cycle, she makes time. She barely touches the food (she tells people she's been snacking too much in the workshop) and greets her friends and disappears into the crowds.
She'd worry about Kachina - about leaving her unsupervised, or hurting her feelings - but Mualani is always there. She's a good friend to Kachina, sees to it that she's safe and supervised and having fun.
And she's a good friend to Xilonen, looks her over on arrival and gives her a knowing smile and distracts Kachina so Xilonen can slip away.
Dancing is enough, for a while, and Xilonen thinks she never plays better than when her heart is racing and her blood is too close to her skin.
But then her set ends and she's losing herself in the crowds, dancing with one pretty girl after another until she finds the one that feels right and wants to follow Xilonen to somewhere dark and secluded for a while.
Afterwards Xilonen goes back to the music and does it all again. At some point Mualani will find her to let her know that Kachina is safely asleep at Mualani's house and pretend she isn't checking that Xilonen is safe too.
Xilonen doesn't drink when she feels like this. Mualani has figured it out and is as understanding as anyone who's purely human can be, but she'll only let Xilonen be one kind of out of control at a time. If Xilonen were drunk she'd pull her away from the crowds, the music, the women, all of it, and Xilonen would wake up painfully alone, safe at Mualani's place in the bedroom next to Kachina's.
She wondered, once, if Mualani was just too nice to say that she would rather be the beautiful woman in Xilonen's arms on nights like those, but - no. That isn't why.
Mualani is just a good friend, and for twenty-five days out of every thirty Xilonen is glad because she loves Mualani but not like that.
Still, when there's a festival, it's not so bad.
When there isn't, it's harder, because she doesn't have an excuse to leave her work unless she tells people why and she does not want to do that, and anyway, she always has work to do, so she has to just lock herself in her workshop and hammer at metal like the metal is what did this to her.
It's not the time for delicate work when her hands are shaking with the want that's burning to her bones.
No-one knows, because it's not like she doesn't lock herself in her workshop for days at a time when she's not like this too.
There's no music festival this month, and Xilonen has plans - by the time her heat has passed she'll have rebuilt the prototype for a new engine for Mavuika's flamestrider. She's almost looking forward to it, so naturally Kinich finds her while she's buying ore and tells her that Mavuika wants to see her at the Stadium the day after tomorrow.
Xilonen sighs, and says she'll be there.
It's not the first time she's been unable to get away from the world. She can handle it. It'll be a meeting, because Mavuika likes the tribes to stay in contact with each other even when there's not a crisis - partly to reduce the chances that there'll be a crisis at all.
Except it isn't.
"Don't be mad," Mavuika says, eyes bright and smile rueful, and shows Xilonen her flamestrider and the damage that runs deep alongside the whole left side.
"What happened?" Xilonen asks, and does the thing she tries not to do at times like this - she looks at Mavuika's body.
She doesn't look hurt. Xilonen wants to run her hands over the body-warm leather she's wearing, wants to touch and taste and suck marks into her skin where -
"Rift hounds," Mavuika says, and it takes Xilonen a moment to focus - the flamestrider is damaged, that's why Mavuika called her.
"At least you're okay," Xilonen says. "You are okay, aren't you?"
"I am now," Mavuika says, with an impish smile. "I thought if I waited to call you until I healed up you wouldn't be as upset."
"You were hurt?" Xilonen frowns.
"Just a few scratches," Mavuika assures her, and twists, raising her arm to show Xilonen the faded marks on her ribs where the leather doesn't cover her.
Xilonen's mouth is watering and her heart is pounding and this is a problem, actually. "Well, I'll take a look at it and see who I can do," she says. "I mean, what I can do. For you." She forces a smile. "Long day."
"Sorry to make it longer," Mavuika says, and Xilonen even thinks she means it.
Xilonen works long into the night, until she's too tired not to make mistakes that she can't afford on something that might risk Mavuika's safety.
Unfortunately, she's pretty sure she has no chance of sleeping, either.
"It's you," Citlali says, squinting at Xilonen by the light of the stars and the Sacred Flame. "Why aren't you asleep?'
"I can't sleep," Xilonen tells her shortly. She'd heard people gathered here, sometimes, to drink and have a good time - but if it's true on other nights, it probably isn't when Granny Itztli is here.
Xilonen wishes people were less weird about Citlali, but since they aren't, she wishes Citlali weren't here.
It would be a bad idea to pick up someone who spends time around the Stadium, someone she'd be at risk of seeing again, but Xilonen spent hours alone in a workshop - not even her own, not really - with Mavuika on the first day of her heat and she needs.
Citlali is looking at her more thoughtfully than Xilonen would expect when she knows the woman is drunk. "Oh," she says. And then, "Can't you just take care of it yourself? You have hands."
It makes it worse, Xilonen doesn't say.
"I don't know what you're talking about," she growls.
"Hmph," Citlali says. "It's one thing to lie to yourself, but don't even try to lie to me."
Xilonen stalks away.
She's on the stone ridge above the Stadium, hunched on on herself and shivering like the warm air can't justify because she's cold in a way that has nothing to do with temperature. She needs to be touched, and -
"Xilonen, is something wrong?"
Mavuika crouches next to her and puts a bare ungloved hand on Xilonen's forearm, all too gentle. Xilonen was too lost in herself to be aware of her approach until it was too late to brace herself, and it's only the first night but it's hitting her hard. The touch of Mavuika's skin against hers burns, makes her whole body break into a sweat in the cool night air and she doesn't quite hold back the shudder.
Mavuika's hand jerks back and Xilonen can't contain the whimper at the loss.
"Oh," Mavuika says, which Xilonen thinks is the worst thing she could have said, because that means she's realised.
"It's nothing," she grits out, and hopes that Mavuika hears how rough her voice sounds and thinks she's sick or something.
"Xilonen, you're -" Mavuika stops, and Xilonen wishes she could bring herself to look up but she doesn't want to see Mavuika's pity. "Do you want me to touch you, or -"
Xilonen's stupid, treacherous body. At the sound of the sob she couldn't hold back Mavuika puts her hand back where it was and kneels, leans in, putting her other arm around her shoulders.
"I didn't realise," she murmurs, and her voice is like liquid fire running down into Xilonen's belly, heat pooling in places she's been trying not to think about for hours. "Can I help?"
"No," Xilonen snaps, and feels the Archon flinch, but she's still fighting herself not to lean into her touch, press her face against Mavuika's neck. She's already panting like she just raced up a cliff, and she can taste Mavuika's scent on her tongue, traces of leather whispering under fire and ash, if ash smelled really really good.
"Women whose names you don't even learn are good enough, but I'm not?" Mavuika's tone is - Xilonen's never heard her sound like that. She sounds hurt.
"How do you -" She stops, her humiliation suddenly complete. "Does everyone know?"
"I doubt it. I'm the guest of honour at festivals. I watch the dancing. I watch you." Mavuika sounds like herself again, controlled, but Xilonen knows she heard it. Mavuika is the Archon, she's fire and strength and power, but she's also human.
"It's not about being good enough," Xilonen manages, trying to breathe evenly. "I'm a chimera." It's not like it isn't obvious to anyone who even looks at her.
"And you're in heat," Mavuika says, voice level.
"I still have self-control," Xilonen says, even though the longer Mavuika touches her the more it feels like a lie. "I don't want your pity. I don't want to fuck you like a stranger and then have to pretend it didn't happen." She's never thought Mavuika was even interested. Her scent is always the same.
"I wouldn't ask you to." Mavuika leans her forehead against Xilonen's temple. "I'd like you to let me help you and then still be my friend... if you didn't want to date me."
Xilonen must be hallucinating. "Date you?"
"I'd like you to," Mavuika says softly. "I wouldn't ask you to make that decision right now. I'd still like to help you."
Xilonen's mouth is dry. She thinks it's the only part of her that is, when she's broken out in a sweat and the lust that's fogging her thoughts is also pulsing in her veins, the ache between her thighs throbbing with her heartbeat.
"I don't know if I can even walk," she admits. "I want you so much." That last part wasn't what she intended to say, although she's not quite sure what was.
"Is that a yes?" Mavuika asks, going very still.
Xilonen surrenders. "Yes." She turns her head, leans up, kisses Mavuika with all the craving she's been fighting back.
And Mavuika doesn't pull away, she bites Xilonen's lip and licks into her mouth, drops her hand from Xilonen's forearm to slide it under her knees and lift her as she straightens up.
The ridge Xilonen chose was the one above the Speaker's Chamber, because she's weak to her desires when she's like this. It's convenient now. Mavuika leaps down lightly despite the height and walks backwards through the door still carrying Xilonen, takes her all the way to her bedroom before she even breaks the kiss.
Xilonen can't even tell if she thinks that's hot. She's already on fire, mind rapidly getting hazy now that she's getting the touch she's been craving, grumbling at the choker that won't let her put her mouth on Mavuika's neck. She has to bite at her collarbone instead, lick the swell of her breast not quite covered by her leathers. She's distantly aware that the air feels cool on more of her body as Mavuika peels her out of her sweat-damp clothes, of the clink of her jewellery coming off, but that's a vague distraction from the vital goal that is tasting as much of Mavuika's skin as she can reach.
Mavuika's hands are in her way, and Xilonen nips at her fingers, offended. Mavuika's laugh has Xilonen biting at her collarbone again, harder this time, because how dare she - but oh, Xilonen realises, she's pulling down the zip of her leathers and Xilonen has so much more of Mavuika to touch. Yes. All of her is yes.
~
Mavuika has seen Xilonen in heat before. Rarely, as far as she knows, but then she hadn't realised today until Citlali came to berate her for bringing Xilonen to the Stadium and then leaving her alone in that state and she'd hurried to see what was wrong. She doesn't know how often Xilonen hides it perfectly, she just knows that sometimes Xilonen goes to festivals and is sociable with her friends and sometimes Xilonen goes to festivals and prowls through the crowds like a jungle cat, slipping away into the shadows with the women she wants. (It's not about who wants her, because when she's moving like that that's just about everyone.)
It wouldn't be appropriate for the Pyro Archon to be jealous, anyway, but Mavuika can spot a pattern and Xilonen likes women with killer curves, with red hair, who dress in leather. An Archon can still have hope.
She doesn't think Xilonen is usually like this, is the thing. She's seen Xilonen kiss women on the dance floor - beautiful women, but Mavuika is well aware that she's beautiful too and that doesn't worry her.
Maybe she does do this, with other women. It would have been inappropriate for Mavuika to stare, to deliberately watch.
Maybe she doesn't. Mavuika has never found it difficult to think she might be special.
As far as Mavuika knows, Xilonen's chimera bloodline has ocelot traits, not octopus, but Xilonen is wrapped around her like any distance physically hurts her, even her tail curled around Mavuika's thigh.
Mavuika has never had sex before. She didn't have time for a serious relationship, and having a casual one with any of Natlan's people seemed inappropriate. If she'd thought about it, she'd always assumed she'd be a natural.
Xilonen doesn't seem to have any complaints that aren't objections to any distance between them. Mavuika got them both out of their clothes as efficiently as she could, because it turns out Xilonen bites and those teeth are sharp.
Mavuika doesn't mind, but she doesn't want Xilonen to feel bad about it when she's clear-headed again.
Xilonen is stunning naked and lit only by the soft red glow of Mavuika's hair. (She couldn't control it if she tried, she feels like she's walking through fire.) She's intent, focussed like she is when she's working. Mavuika draws her to the bed by moving there slowly and letting Xilonen follow, pulled by her clear need to touch. Her mouth and hands are mapping Mavuika's body like she's planning to sculpt it later.
It's possible Mavuika has made a mistake, because if Xilonen wants to just be friends again, giving this up is going to hurt.
But that's a concern for later. Right now Mavuika has Xilonen in her arms, in her bed, and Citlali assured her that anyone who wanted to interrupt them would have to get past her to do it, so Mavuika is certain they'll have privacy until they're ready to emerge. Mavuika can surrender her reserve and let the inferno of feeling take her.
Her own fire never burns her, after all.
~
Xilonen wakes slowly. She's warm and content and sated, none of the lingering need she's used to associating with the morning after a heat. She's also lying mostly on top of someone, skin against skin and her tail is curled around -
Mavuika, she remembers. Her tail is curled around Mavuika's forearm, she has Mavuika's arms around her, Mavuika's breast under her cheek, Mavuika's legs tangled with hers.
She remembers now, she's spent her whole heat with the same person and it was Mavuika. Mavuika meeting her near-feral intensity with equal passion, Mavuika coaxing her to drink water and even eat some fruit, never flinching from Xilonen's relentless want even on the last day, the day Xilonen usually avoids people entirely because by the last day she craves tenderness and closeness. Mavuika didn't back away even from that, let Xilonen press even closer and kiss her for hours, practically let her make love to her.
Xilonen has never felt so mortified. Mavuika's scent is surrounding her only now it's infused with hers, because she's been touching Mavuika for days with no care at all to avoid that. It smells so good, and Xilonen now has to live with the knowledge that the Pyro Archon's energy burns away all the things that usually let her know when someone wants her and read their moods when she really needs to, but she could still be marked as Xilonen's if she ever actually was.
Which she can't be. She's Mavuika.
She opens her eyes and only doesn't physically cringe because she thinks Mavuika is still asleep.
There are marks. Unmistakeable ones, especially the shadowy imprints of Xilonen's stupid fangs across Mavuika's collarbones where people will see them unless Mavuika changes how she dresses to hide them.
Xilonen doesn't stay the night with someone, never mind stay her entire heat and wake up the next morning all... vulnerable, naked and here without the fog of heat to stop her thinking about it.
She must have tensed or something. Mavuika is stirring, and Xilonen can't tear her eyes away from her face even though this feels... inappropriate. Intrusive. She has no right to see the Archon's sleepy blinks, the soft and intimate way she smiles when she sees Xilonen's awake.
"Morning," Mavuika says softly, and shifts, rolling them both enough to put Xilonen on her back and kiss her, open-mouthed and gentle and irresistible. Xilonen's stomach rumbles, and Mavuika draws back, smiling. "Does that sound mean I can get you to eat something without a fight?"
"I'll eat," Xilonen says, trying to keep her voice steady. "I'm - it's passed. I'm back to normal."
"And hungry, I expect," Mavuika says, and kisses her again even though Xilonen just said she's no longer in heat and Mavuika doesn't need to be taking pity on her any more. "I could barely get you to take anything. Let me see what we have."
She starts to pull away, but Xilonen's tail is still wrapped around her wrist.
Xilonen wills it to stop doing that, but it won't, and she thinks she'd actually be quite fine with it if she died right now this second as she has to pull her own tail back with her hand. She closes her eyes and silently begs the Night Kingdom to come for her, but it doesn't, and moments later Mavuika is holding a slice of sunsettia to her lips. Xilonen is too hungry to refuse, she's always starving after a heat.
"I guess we should talk," Mavuika says, still naked and back in bed, hand-feeding Xilonen fruit. "I don't want to pressure you. Do you want to take some time to think about it and decide?"
"Decide?" Xilonen blinks.
Mavuika shrugs, which is a very distracting movement with her bare breasts so clearly in Xilonen's eyeline. "It's up to you," she says. "I still need you to fix my flamestrider, and there's still a room for you at the inn if that takes a couple of days. I know you like the food there. Now that you're feeling better we can go back to normal if you like. That's a definite option and I'll absolutely respect it."
She feeds Xilonen another slice of fruit, and Xilonen has to chew and swallow before she can reply.
"Or what?" she asks warily.
Mavuika smiles. "Or you can have dinner with me tonight, as a date, and afterwards decide if you want to stay with me instead."
Xilonen feels her brow furrow. "You mean that?"
"Mmhm." Mavuika kisses her, and Xilonen wants to -
And maybe she can -
"Promise me one thing," she says.
"I can't imagine anything you'd ask that I'd say no to," Mavuika kisses her neck.
"You'll stop wrecking your freaking bike."
Mavuika laughs. "For you, I'll try."