Chapter Text
Xilonen gets so much more work done since she got her apprentices, stopped carving new Ancient Names and stopped taking every commission people could pin her down to ask for.
On reflection, she's blaming the fact that things were that bad in the first place on the combined effects of exhaustion and the attrition of her soul from carving Ancient Names.
The lack of constant interruptions from new customers alone means that in three months her stack of commissions has been cleared away entirely, even though she only works during daylight hours now and takes time to teach her apprentices.
She's still a chimera with feline traits, but her newly adjusted schedule easily allows for her to fit in a brief nap most afternoons. The roof of the Speaker's Chamber is a good place, private and deliciously warm in the sun.
Some days she doesn't make it up there. If Mavuika has a gap in her own schedule she might invite Xilonen to nap in their bed instead - but that works too, because anywhere is a warm place to sleep with Mavuika.
Xilonen is absolutely certain that Mavuika never spent an hour in the afternoon - or any part of daylight hours - relaxing in bed before all this started. (She still doesn't sleep, but she brings one of her puzzle books so she can enjoy letting Xilonen use her as a mattress. Xilonen is at peace with the knowledge that she's in love with her god and her god is a weirdo.)
She knows for a fact that Mavuika didn't delegate as much of Natlan's administration before now. There was no Council of Advisors with representatives from the six tribes to consult on issues and make it possible for her to do so, even in the fairly short interval between their victory and Xilonen and Mavuika starting to date.
The Heroes of Natlan all have a standing invitation to participate and some of the others do so frequently. Xilonen almost never does, because she has other work to do and there are plenty of other members of her tribe who are interested in doing it instead.
It's cool. Things are going well. And Xilonen can tell Mavuika has other plans in mind too lately, because there've been very occasional comments about how if, perhaps, Xilonen ever wanted a child then Mavuika would need to be able to -
It varies. Be present. Be accepting of disruptions to her routine.
Xilonen can't quite believe she's thinking about it.
She knows she's not ready. She's sure Mavuika isn't either, but Mavuika is trying to be ready to offer Xilonen the option, and Mavuika doesn't appear to know any way to approach a challenge other than with total victory in mind. This is what Xilonen gets for dating the God of War.
Other consequences include... this.
"So." Xilonen feels tired just thinking about this. "We're sailing from Ameyalco Waters to Port Ormos, and from there we go through Sumeru, stopping at Sumeru City, to Bayda Harbour. From there we sail to Romaritime Harbour and visit Fontaine. Once we're done in Fontaine we sail from Lumidouce Harbour through northern Liyue to Mondstadt, and then we sail back through Liyue again to Liyue Harbour. From there we'll sail to Inazuma. And from Inazuma we can sail back to Port Ormos, and then home."
"You could go in the other direction," Mualani says. "If you go to Port Ormos then Inazuma you have a more direct route going to Mondstadt then Liyue. You could even come home and then do a separate trip to visit Fontaine, even if you go to Sumeru City from Port Ormos."
"Unfortunately, that doesn't allow for certain contingency plans," Mavuika says.
Mualani's brow furrows. "Contingency plans?"
It's just Xilonen, Mavuika, Mualani and Chasca in the room. "If long distance travel throws out my cycle and I go into heat early, we're hoping that will happen in Fontaine and we'll be able to adjust our plans for it somewhere we actually know people."
People who are women, in relationships with other women, in positions of power, which they can't be sure they'll find in places like Liyue, where they don't know anyone, because it's been so long since anyone could leave Natlan.
"Oh," Mualani says. "Okay, that makes sense."
"Are you sure you don't want to take a bodyguard?" Chasca asks, not for the first time.
"I'm the Pyro Archon," Mavuika replies, also not for the first time. "If we encounter something I can't handle I'm not sure more people will help."
"But we could..." Mualani trails off.
Mavuika smiles. "Yes. I need the heroes I trust to remain here to see to it that Natlan is safe while I'm gone."
Because Natlan needs to make contact with the other nations. Because Mavuika needs to speak to other Archons. Because they can travel much faster just the two of them and then come home again.
The flamestrider isn't as sexy with added cargo capacity, and they'll still have to pack light, but Mavuika doesn't want to leave Xilonen behind for a journey that may well take months, and Xilonen thinks it would suck but she'd cope but she doesn't want Mavuika taking the bike so far without anyone who can fix it if something goes wrong.
So. Mavuika and Xilonen on a tour of Teyvat.
Chasca leans back in her chair, kicking her boots up onto the table. "I'm going to say something and Xilonen doesn't get to hit me."
Xilonen raises an eyebrow.
"I'm listening," Mavuika says.
"You should get married before you go."
"Now why wouldn't I get to hit you for that?" Xilonen wonders.
"I'm not opposed," Mavuika says, and Xilonen resists the urge to bury her face in her arms on the table, "but why do you say so?"
Chasca shrugs. "They seem to have some weird ideas about things in some places. Not sleeping together before marriage and stuff."
"And you know this because..." Xilonen prompts.
"I borrowed some of Citlali's light novels. The ones about other countries." She holds up a hand. "Not, like, the weird ones in other worlds. The ones set in this one, so I figure they might have some real intel about how other societies work."
Xilonen is dubious.
"I'm wary of using light novels as a source of information," Mavuika says slowly. "But at the same time, I don't see any drawbacks. Could you give us a moment to talk about it?"
"Sure." Chasca smirks the smirk of a woman who knows she just cornered Xilonen for no good reason and saunters out.
Mualani, even worse, gives Xilonen the bright, sincere smile of a good friend who's very happy for her.
Because of course she is. Xilonen and Mavuika are going to talk about marriage, and Mavuika already strongly implied she was in favour of it, and who wouldn't want to marry the Archon?
"You don't seem enthusiastic," Mavuika says carefully, and Xilonen does bury her face in her arms.
"It hasn't even been six months," she says into the table. "Logically, I feel like I shouldn't want to marry you."
"But?" Mavuika is very still. Xilonen's wretched tail is curling around Mavuika's knee without Xilonen's approval.
"But we know that all my chimera instincts want me to have your children, and that's already a lot, but I talked to Citlali about it -" And fixed three chairs, replaced four floorboards, rehung her door, fixed her stove, and insulated her ceiling. "- and she pointed out that I don't have traits from any species that mates for life or anything like that, and my instincts absolutely want me to -" She waves a hand in a gesture that she hopes fully conveys submit to you sexually until you get me pregnant with your powerful warrior babies because she isn't saying it. "- but that's not going to be why I just... really like you and want to be with you all the time and all of that sappy stuff."
"I'm not sure what you're getting at," Mavuika says in very careful tones.
"I'm worried that I'll be a lousy wife," Xilonen sighs. "I'm, like, lazy and grumpy or whatever. And I know you don't see me that way, but what if you one day you do?"
"Xilonen." Mavuika touches her shoulder. "You know I've known you for a while, don't you? Before we started dating."
"Sure."
"And I don't want to brag, but I am your god."
And trying not to laugh, by the sounds of it. "I don't see why that would be something to brag about," she mutters, just to be contrary.
"I don't think I'm going to wake up a year, or ten years, or twenty years from now and suddenly decide that actually, I don't love that you're brilliant, that you're kind, that you're so devoted to Natlan. That actually I don't think your sense of humour is funny at all, I hate that you're thoughtful and willing to tell me when you think I'm wrong."
"This still counts as uncomfortably sincere compliments," Xilonen complains. "You're not supposed to do those without giving me advance notice, preferably in writing." They discussed this. Xilonen is pretty sure Mavuika thought she was joking, but she was not.
"The only reason you shouldn't marry me is if you don't want to," Mavuika says firmly. "Not because you think I'll regret it. That's my decision, and I'm confident I won't."
Xilonen grudgingly opens one eye and peers at her over her own arm. "If I told you I didn't want to marry you you'd ask why not and then change whatever I said was wrong with you, so long as it wasn't the compliments thing that you refuse to change."
Mavuika smiles. "If you want to reach your full potential you need to embrace your shortcomings."
Xilonen opens her other eye, resting her chin on her forearm. "And you think your full potential includes being married to me."
Mavuika tilts her head thoughtfully, apparently really considering it. "On reflection... yes. I think it does."
"I am stupidly in love with you," Xilonen sighs. "All right. Yes. Let's get married."
Which is how it comes to be that they're getting married, and for their honeymoon they're touring most of Teyvat.
If Xilonen had been forced at knifepoint to describe her ideal wedding, she would probably have said the most low key ceremony possible. Pacal saying, "Sure, if that's what you want, may the Archon bless your union," maybe a round of drinks and everyone can go home.
That is not the wedding she's going to have, because she's marrying the Archon.
Good news: Archon's blessing pretty much assured.
Bad news: the guest list is "Natlan".
The Collective of Plenty are taking the lead on organising the biggest feast in living memory. There will be dancing. There will be plays. There will be songs written and, all together, Xilonen's wedding is going to take two weeks, and she had to fight to get it down from a month and endure sad eyes from way too many people, even if she's absolutely certain that Chasca was faking to mess with her.
Since they still do need to go out and tour Teyvat, Xilonen at least doesn't have to endure the entire country going wedding crazy about her wedding for too long, even if the urgency ramps up the intensity of the crazy to unbearable levels.
The wedding comes together in just three weeks thanks to a concerted national effort that practically puts the Night Warden Wars to shame.
It might have been only two, but then the festivities would probably have been kicking off while Xilonen was in heat, and absolutely not.
Her life is plagued by her wretched heat cycle, but the whole world doesn't need to know that.
Xilonen spends two of those three weeks hiding in her workshop as much as she possibly can, and most of the third in bed with Mavuika leaving Mualani, Chasca and Iansan in charge of the final preparations.
Xilonen can't decide whether she thinks that's going to be a regrettable choice. Mualani's sincere good intentions might falter on her enthusiasm, Iansan likewise but in different directions, and Chasca will intimidate anyone who starts arguing about things into ruthless efficiency but also, maybe, use the opportunity to bring in ideas Xilonen tried to veto, like the fireworks launched from hot air balloons. Which Xilonen just knows would end in disaster.
Iansan is a good friend and a sensible person in most respects but she's also really enthusiastic about this.
The festivities are a blur of too much. Too much food, too much noise, too much attention. Xilonen likes all of those things in measured and controlled amounts, not like this, like all of Natlan is making the Pilgrimage but it's a Pilgrimage to her.
She really thought the focus would be on Mavuika. Their god is getting married, Xilonen thinks that should be the big deal, but apparently the Pyro Archon is old news when the Bride of the Archon is here for people to lose their minds about.
Xilonen maybe hadn't considered the thing that everyone seems to have assumed she would obviously have considered: that marrying Mavuika makes her a new figure in her own religion.
It's just...
As an Ancient Name engraver she has always played a key role in the practical faith of Natlan, and she's been having really a lot of sex with Natlan's god for months.
Nonetheless, she's just not really a very religious person.
Her faith was in Mavuika, not the Archon.
And it still is, so even when Mavuika notices just how much she's freaking out by halfway through the second week and asks (with an air of loving and non-judgemental kindness that is just painfully sincere) if she wants to change her mind about it, Xilonen says no.
The day of the ceremony they have to get up stupidly early, because the ceremony itself has to happen at dawn.
Xilonen knows she isn't the only one who's grumpy about it (the last two weeks have been exhausting) because the person performing the ceremony itself is Citlali and she never gets up this early.
Xilonen and Mavuika had to spend the night separately. Xilonen gets ready with Mualani and Chasca and Iansan, listening to the people of Natlan singing ancient hymns in the packed Stadium.
They don't speak much. The moment feels... too big, as the voices seem to reverberate in the very stone around them.
The eastern sky is beginning to lighten when Xilonen takes Mavuika's hand on the floor of the Stadium in front of the Sacred Flame, and Xilonen hopes the clouds she can see don't ruin it for everyone. Mavuika's dress is flame-red and breathtaking. Xilonen's dress is gold and heavy. Tumaini, Kinich and Kachina are standing with Mavuika, lining up next to Chasca, Mualani and Iansan.
Neither Xilonen nor Mavuika is that close to Kinich, but there has to be someone from each of the six tribes taking part, and neither Mavuika nor Xilonen counts.
Citlali -
Xilonen isn't sure she's ever seen her with her hair brushed before, never mind like this, ribbons braided into it in a style Xilonen is sure is older than her own grandparents. She's wearing a new dress, flowing and elegant, and Xilonen can't help but notice how beautiful Citlali must have been, when what remains despite the ravages of so many years of bitterness still is.
She hopes everyone is seeing it. People find it too easy to see Granny Itztli as a monster.
"The marriage of an Archon is a rare blessing," Citlali says, and Xilonen knows her voice is carrying to everyone in the packed stands and beyond.
There are people perched on the walls and the Flower-Feather Clan have clustered more balloons than Xilonen thought they had around the Stadium as vantage points for those who wouldn't fit.
"It is a joy and celebration that must begin in solemnity," Citlali continues. "Mavuika, Kiongozi, Haborym. You are called to lead, to rule, and to serve all of Natlan. To bind yourself to another is to bind Natlan to another. Will your chosen bring glory to us all?"
No pressure, Xilonen thinks.
They didn't go over the questions in advance. Apparently they're not supposed to be able to rehearse.
Mavuika nods. "She will, as she already has."
Citlali looks at Xilonen. "Xilonen, Baraka. Do you walk into the fire of your own free will?"
"Yes," Xilonen says, and looks at Mavuika. "I choose Mavuika. I follow Kiongozi. I accept Haborym." The answer seems to come from somewhere other than her conscious thoughts.
Mavuika smiles brilliantly, and Citlali nods.
"We are the inheritors of memory and legend," Citlali says, and Xilonen remembers hearing this so many times, reciting it so many times, remembers standing with her fist over her heart when the Sacred Flame guttered, heart in her throat.
"Those who grew alongside sun and wind," she whispers, but now the chant is rising throughout the stadium.
Those who forged our own destiny and future. That is Natlan's fire, the lifeblood of our nation.
The crowd falls silent, and Mavuika, eyes and hair blazing, says the last lines alone. It feels inevitable.
"In the beginning there was darkness, until someone set themselves aflame. Only then did the universe know light."
At the exact moment she says light the sun breaks through the clouds, sunlight bathing the wedding party. Mavuika turns towards Xilonen.
"I choose you, Xilonen," Mavuika says softly, and kisses her.
The light through Xilonen's eyelids gets brighter while they kiss, somehow, even though it's barely a couple of seconds.
When they draw back and she opens her eyes she understands why.
They're both bathed in flame.
Xilonen dares to look down.
Her dress isn't even singed. Where the fire dances along the bare skin of her arms it feels... strange. It's fire, and it's hot but it doesn't hurt at all.
The crowd starts singing again, one of the new hymns written for the occasion. Xilonen looks at her friends and sees Mualani and Kachina are both trying to cry unobtrusively. Chasca, Iansan and Tumaini are smiling warmly, tears in their eyes.
"Congratulations," Citlali says, the reverberating quality of her magical voice projection gone. "You're married."
~
They're married.
Mavuika walks through her wedding feast, her wife's hand in hers.
They have quite a lot of ground to cover, because ideally everyone will have the chance to see them, even if they can't possibly stop to talk to each person, or even each table. She knows Xilonen is desperate for all of this to be over, but it doesn't show. They talked about it before, and Xilonen suggested this before Mavuika could.
Because Xilonen chooses Mavuika and accepts Haborym.
There's no way to know how much Mavuika's divinity will affect Xilonen, because the answer, right now, is it depends. It depends on the faith of Natlan's people and on Xilonen - on her connection to Mavuika and to the leylines.
It's hard to predict, because so few Archons have ever married, and none ever married a Name Engraver.
But they'll have time to find out and it won't bring harm to Xilonen, Mavuika is certain.
To her wife.
Mavuika never thought she'd ever marry. Her focus was on Natlan, not her personal life, and she was at peace with that - and yet here she is, rubbing her thumb over Xilonen's knuckles as they walk, exchanging nods and smiles with people. Mavuika tries to make eye contact with everyone she can, even if just for a moment.
This is duty. What she really wants to do is take Xilonen back to their rooms and get her out of that gorgeous dress, take her to bed, and in the morning head to Ameyalco Waters to board the boat that will take them past the shallows to meet the ship that will carry them to Sumeru.
The trip is for Natlan's sake, but Mavuika can still be looking forward to how much time she will get to spend alone with Xilonen.
It's just as well the feast is set to last all day. It gives them time for the extended tour, even with breaks to actually eat something themselves. Mavuika tells Kachina she doesn't have to walk with them the whole way, but Natlan's smallest hero insists on doing it anyway.
Mavuika doesn't know whether it's right to show how proud of her she is, how proud of her she always is, because she doesn't want Kachina to think she always has to push herself. She's still so young.
She can't help but wonder if any future child she might have with Xilonen will be just as determined. Mavuika would be proud of a child like Kachina, but she would want them to have a safer, easier childhood - of course, she would have wished that for Kachina herself, too.
That's still a question for the future. Today is their wedding.
Mavuika could never have imagined how good it would feel to fall in love. It's not just Xilonen. Xilonen is wonderful, of course, to talk to and be with, but it's more than just the time she spends actively paying attention to her.
It's working late in the evening while Xilonen is across the room working on a small project she brought home, and the quiet joy of doing separate things together.
It's having a reason to try and recreate her family's stew recipe because she won't be eating it alone.
It's Xilonen's friends coming by and the way they've started to relax around Mavuika.
It's having a reason to try and learn to stop working.
It's a relief when they've finished their tour around the feast tables, when they can make their exit to the sound of a hymn of celebration and return to their rooms while the party continues.
"I'm exhausted," Xilonen says, groaning as she falls gracefully onto a couch.
The rooms they share have more furniture now than they did when Mavuika was alone.
Mavuika kneels beside the couch to kiss her. "We don't have to be anywhere until morning," she reminds her. "We have plenty of time to finish packing later if you want a nap."
"Hmm." Xilonen draws her back down for another kiss, slow and lingering. "I don't know. It's pretty cold here. Not sure I can sleep without someone to keep me warm."
Mavuika nips at her wife's lower lip. "Is this an invitation to join you where you are or to carry you to bed?" She's pretty sure that one option is snuggling, the other is sex, and by now she's accepted that the part of her that finds it unbearable to do nothing thinks any time touching Xilonen counts as doing something important. She's eager for either.
Xilonen tugs her closer, and Mavuika climbs onto the couch, stretching out alongside her - her wife, and the only thing wrong with the moment is that the long dresses they're both wearing get in the way of tangling their legs together in the way Mavuika loves so much.
Xilonen is cupping her cheek tenderly, smiling into their kisses, and Mavuika thinks that she might just get away with a little tenderness of her own, the kind that usually makes Xilonen squirm.
"I love you," she murmurs. "I'd ask you to marry me but you already did."
Xilonen bites her lip just hard enough to sting. "I love you and I'm never leaving you, but I'm not going through all of that again." She gently pulls Mavuika's head down to her shoulder and wriggles into a comfortable position. "I'm going to sleep now. You can sleep too, or just this once you can gaze at me adoringly and I won't be mad about it."
Mavuika nuzzles her neck. "Do I get to compliment you when you wake up?"
Xilonen huffs. "You can have three compliments. With eye contact and I won't even dodge."
"Deal," Mavuika says, because she's never had terms that generous.
"Sap," Xilonen mutters, and moments later her breathing smoothes out and she's asleep.
Mavuika lifts her head just enough to see her wife's face, peaceful and beautiful.
She's not one to waste an opportunity.