Note: As always, I ask you guys to comment if I made mistakes in my Spanish. I was always better at speaking it than writing it. This fulfills the prompt: a child comes to the Land of the Remembered and Xibalba and La Muerte watch over him.
It happened more often than La Muerte wanted, but she blessed every time they wandered into her land and not down below to Xibalba. It was heartbreaking even with the main residents of the land doing their best, watching over them and making them feel loved. It still hurt La Muerte more than anything. Death was natural, young death was an affront to the gods, whether it be disease or fellow men, they stole something precious. And though she didn't have the power to punish them, Xibalba found ways to bring justice to those who wronged his wife.
And today, was just such a day.
"What about baby names?" Xibalba said. "If they name their first born—No! If their firstborn is a boy—"
"Let it be, mi amor, give it at least another 200 years before you inevitably enrage me again with your addiction to cheating," she said, lazily painting marigolds in the air with her fingers and sending them his direction.
"Perhaps you should stop picking favorites among the mortals," he said.
"¿Perdon?"
"You favored Manolo, and even María, keep it up and all the mortals will be expecting blessings at their shrines," he said, leaning back in his chair at her table, throwing his goblet back.
"Oh, and that medal was just a pretty garnish for Joaquín," she said.
"The difference, my dear, is that I do not get attached. Specimen as Joaquín might be, I care little for what happens to him. He was the obvious choice in the bet and most likely to get me what I wanted. I care even less what happens to the girl. You, on the other hand…" he lifted the glass like a toast and took another drink.
"There is nothing wrong with taking interest," she said.
"I take interest, mild as it may be, you fall in love," he said.
"I only have eyes for you mi amor, you know that," she said, running her fingers down his face and twisting his beard. Whatever snarky comment he'd prepared evaporated in her touch.
"There is more than one way to fall in love," he murmured.
Motions and eye expressions that would have lead to a very adult situation was cut off when the doors of La Muerte's castle opened and in poured an entourage of Sánchez ancestors.
"Don't you ever lock your door?" Xibalba groaned and backed away from La Muerte.
"They'll be time for that later, my love, if you behave."
He nodded his head to her in a bow and retreated to a corner to avoid contact and any additional slaps Carmen Sánchez felt like dealing out. La Muerte approached the group with hands folded in front of her.
"Many Sánchez's here," she said, running her eyes over the group. "Except for you, my dear."
La Muerte knelt down and quickly realized the extra among the Sánchez clan was a small human, a small human child. A young boy, perhaps barely 10 years old. His hands were clasped together and his fingers working a storm over each other in a fidget. His head was down, his eyes even lower.
"Me llamo Diego," he mumbled out.
"¿Como estás Diego?" La Muerte responded.
He didn't say anything, but his bottom lip poked out just a bit farther and began to tremble.
"¿Bueno? Espero que sí y espero poder ayudar," she said. "¿Sabes dónde estás?"
He shook his head.
"You are in the Land of the Remembered, Diego, do you know what that means?"
His trembling lip quickened its pace.
"It means," she said, kneeling down and placing a jeweled, candy hand on his shoulder, "Fiestas everyday for you, surrounded by kind people and all you can eat without ever getting fat—which you probably don't care about but believe me it's something."
She looked up at the gaggle of Sánchez's.
"Gracias, Carmen," she said.
"Do you want me to look after him?" she said. Even with her features replaced by death, La Muerte could see the same concern brewing in her eyes as if she'd just seen Manolo fall of his horse.
"Yes, perhaps. But right now I will show Diego around our world. I will return him to you later," La Muerte said.
Carmen nodded and she and her family made their exit of La Muerte's castle, Carmen stealing multiple glances back at the young boy before the door shut. La Muerte offered her hand to the boy. She watched him eye, return his gaze to his own hands, then eventually reach out and latch onto her palm.
"I had hoped you were kidding," Xibalba said, lowering from his perch.
Diego immediately jumped back and nestled quite safely behind La Muerte's red dress, still clinging to her hand.
"Who is that?" he whispered out.
"That is just a grumpy bit of tar that unfortunately learned how to speak," she whispered back with a smile and she saw the faintest flick at the corners of Diego's mouth.
"You married this bit of tar," Xibalba muttered.
"His name is Xibalba, but he loves it when you call him, Balby," she shot her husband the sneakiest smile and his eyes went wide before his mouth went into a frown.
"Balby," Diego tried out.
Xibalba sighed with the name now stuck. He tucked his chin into the head of his staff and let his eyes glaze over and unfocus.
"Are you hungry Diego? I told you, food all day and night if you wish. Dessert for every meal if you want it," she whispered and he popped out from his hiding spot behind her.
"Do you have churros and flan?" he asked eagerly.
"Of course."
La Muerte snapped her fingers and Xibalba jumped back, startled, as the table filled to the brim with desserts and Diego rushed over, pulled himself up onto a chair and his eyes went wide. The smile that threatened to pop up earlier was now eye to eye as his head swiveled up and down the table. He looked back at La Muerte for confirmation and she nodded.
"¡Muchas Gracias!"
La Muerte stepped back and took a seat in her giant red armchair, her sombrero removed, for a few rare moments and she sighed. She watched Diego try to get as many candies and pastries as he could in his hands. Xibalba wandered over to her and resumed his same bored stance from before.
"You don't intend to keep it, do you?" he said.
"What and send him down to you?"
"I don't receive children in my land. If I did, even I might be inclined to shed a tear. Might."
"Consider yourself lucky then."
Her smile became a frown as she watched him go from eating to looking around and eyeing every corner of the castle he could take in. He seemed to be memorizing colors or noticing them for the first time.
"What I meant was," he said, slithering behind her. "You're not planning on keeping it here, are you? Because—"
"What? You have big plans for my castle?"
"Perhaps. And they involve not being interrupted," he buzzed in her ear, so close she could feel heat coming off him.
"He, will be looked after Carmen," she said, petting his beard. "And if you want your plans to succeed I'll need you to make nice with the child."
"You're not serious, mi amor."
"I've never been more so. Play nice Balby."
And she gave his face a shove, sending him into the opposite corner, while she crossed her legs and leaned back in her chair. She nodded to the boy and waved her hands towards him. Xibalba fought off a pout and gave his wife one last look of mercy before he resigned himself to his fate and hovered over towards the boy.
At first he hovered nearby, hands clasped behind his back, occasionally jerking to either side of the boy and watching him pick at food and shove it into his mouth. He settled for staying on the Diego's left side and stroking his beard in thought. Twice he opened his mouth to say something and twice he closed it again. When La Muerte giggled from across the room he pursed his lips and spoke.
"So, you're a boy," he said. "A nice, pump human boy of what, 8? 10? A nice plump human boy of 9 with a personality and likes and dislikes and with whom I have absolutely nothing in common."
The boy looked at him and took a big swallow of food.
"My name is Diego," he said.
"Yes, yes it is," he said.
There was a lull in conversation and the boy went back to eating sweets at the table. Xibalba looked back at his wife who was lounged with an eyebrow cocked and her head resting against her long fingers.
"So—Diego—what brings you here?"
He heard La Muerte smack her forehead and he almost did as well.
"HERE to….these…churros! What brings you to these churros? You like churros?"
He cringed and looked back La Muerte who looked ready to fly across the room and strangle him. He shrugged and mustered the best puppy dog eyes he could before turning back to Diego.
"My mamá used to make them every Sunday," he said. And then he grew very quiet.
He set down his food and wiped his face with a nearby napkin. He plopped down onto his butt in the chair and began fidgeting with his hands again, staring at them. Xibalba's eyes went wide in horror as he desperately looked to La Muerte for help.
"She's not here is she? She won't be here to tuck me in tonight," he whispered.
Several panic alarms must have been going off in Xibalba's head, especially when Diego, without warning, turned and threw his face into Xibalba to cover his sniffles. And the god was still as a tombstone. For a long moment he simply stayed put and let the boy sniffle into him. Eventually he raised one arm and let it fall on the boy's shoulder repeatedly in what could pass for pats.
"No, your mother is not here," he said. "It seems sad and lonely and awful now—"
"Xibalba!"
"But—if you'd let me finish—you might be grateful for every moment she isn't. It is nothing but fun and colors and parties here, believe me, I've pined after this place for longer than your family history can go back, but being alive is something else entirely," he said. "So enjoy the fun here, because it will last forever, and be grateful your mamá still has time for life, because it won't."
The boy's sniffles slowed as he raised his head to meet the red skulls in Xibalba's. Across the room, La Muerte had risen from her chair but watched with apprehension.
"So," he pushed the boy away, "That being said, you should rest from the your gorging because you'll be doing that a lot. And one day your mamá and papá will be down here to do the same. For now…" he looked to his wife, her hard face softer than he'd seen it in a while, "You're in excellent hands."
"Why don't we take you to see Carmen, little one," La Muerte said, holding out her hand for Diego to take.
Later, as the two gods watched the family Sánchez take the downcast, but no longer crying boy from their care, Xibalba nudged his wife playfully to perk a smile back onto her face.
"I told you, you fall in love with the humans," he said.
"And you don't?"
"I most certainly do not."
"No, but you care much more than you think."
She tucked her hands into Xibalba's elbow and pulled him along, back towards her castle. She hummed lightly as they walked. The citizens of the world, normally cordial and crying out hellos to their ruler, stayed wary of Xibalba's presence.
"I don't have any idea what you mean, my dear," he said.
"Manolo, you liked him," she teased.
He stopped walking.
"That's why you made a wager with him," she continued.
"That brat was the most insolent, irritating, son of a—"
"And you loved every minute of it," she said. "Admit it. You liked someone challenging you for once. Especially a mortal."
"I like you challenging me," he growled towards her ear and she pushed him away with a laugh. "Well, endearing as his insolence may have been I do not envy our dear Miss Posada—"
"Mrs. Sánchez."
"Even worse."
The door to the castle closed behind them and La Muerte pulled Xibalba in fast and pointedly, planting a firm kiss to his cold lips before walking down the hall, making sure to sway her hips as she felt his eyes on her.
"Now, these plans you mentioned earlier…"
He growled out a laugh and chased after her, pulling her in.