I Had a Dream

Marigold started to cry for the… was it the fifth? Sixth? Damn it, he didn't even know anymore, he was so tired he had lost count. Reluctantly, Xibalba threw his covers off him and trudged out of bed towards his daughter's cradle, still half-asleep. Taking a peek into the bassinet, he saw Marigold crying her lungs out, kicking at the air and blankets violently, wiggling in her swaddling and trying to get free.

"Shhhh…" Xibalba carefully picked her up and held her against his chest, bouncing her lightly. "Sh-sh-sh. There, there," his voice was tender and loving. "Don't cry, mi florecita. Papi's got you now."

Marigold had been crying so much, screaming lung-emptying wails. Xibalba knew she was hungry, but she refused to eat, and he didn't understand why. He had tried to feed her various times, but she rejected the bottle. No matter what he tried, she refused to even touch the teat of the bottle. Up to now, he'd been using soothing spells to calm her down so he could rest, but he couldn't do that forever. When he asked Toci about it, she assumed Marigold wanted breast milk

Now, that was a hard one.

Xibalba caressed Marigold's cheek gently to wipe her tears, and she immediately turned her head around and started sucking on his finger so hard, trying desperately to get some suck to eat. "Caramba! You sure know how to suck, my sweet!" he exclaimed in surprise. Marigold left her father's finger alone and started nuzzling against his chest, as if she were looking for-

"Nonono, Marigold!" Xibalba quickly moved her a bit away from his chest. "That's something I can't give you, I'm afraid."

Marigold started screaming again. Damn it, what was he going to do now? If she kept going like this she'd starve herself to death, he was growing desperate. But he'd have to keep trying with the bottle, she'd eventually have to accept it, anyway. Xibalba glided towards his bedside table, where he already had a baby bottle filled with warm horchata ready in case Marigold started to cry.

"Here, pequeña." He spoke gently to his baby as he grabbed the bottle and lowered the teat to her lips. "Here's some tasty milk for you."

Again, Marigold whimpered and moved her head away from the bottle, kicking the air and flapping her little wings in protest.

"Marigold." He spoke a bit firmly this time. "I understand you want to suckle from… mami's chest, but she's gone now. You have to get used to the idea, as much as it hurts." He tried and failed once again. Xibalba sighed heavily as he sat down on his bed, and spoke tenderly this time. "I promise you, it tastes much better than breast milk. You're going to like it, if you just give it a chance. Do it for me, sí?"

Marigold's sobs diminished as she looked up at her father's tired eyes, her own puffy and glossy from tears. The dark god tried once again, but thankfully this time she latched unto the bottle's teat and suckled; after feeling the sweet taste of the warm milk, she suckled as quickly as she could, sating her hunger and growling stomach.

"That's my girl…" Xibalba managed to smile down at her, planting a kiss on Marigold's forehead and stroking her cheek as she fed. His eyelids were becoming heavy and he struggled to stay awake. "See? It wasn't that bad."

Marigold ignored him and continued with her meal, her tiny fingers gripping on his fingers as she suckled with all her might. After a while, the bottle was finally empty, and her tummy as full, but then she started to hiccup. Xibalba placed the bottle aside and accommodated Marigold in his arms so that her head was resting against his shoulder; then he started patting her back firmly to burp her. A few minutes later, Marigold let out a big burp, making her father chuckle in delight. She set her eyes on something in her father's bedside table; curious, she reached out for it.

"What are you looking at sweetie? Papi's over here." Xibalba chuckled as he followed her gaze to the object of her attention. And his heart twisted inside his chest when he saw the marigold flower on the crystal vase, one of the flowers La Muerte once used to adorn her hair. "Oh, that? It was your mami's." When Marigold continued to wave her arms at it, he delicately took it from the vase and showed it to her. "Be careful, it's a memento of mami, it's very important for papi."

Marigold's fingers touched the flower's petals gingerly, her little eyes fixated on it as she gurgled and cooed, wondering what it was. A while later, she became sleepy and rested her head on Xibalba's chest, suckling on her thumb. Xibalba smiled as he placed the flower back on its vase and started rocking his baby back and forth in his arms gently.

A la roro niña

A la roro ya

Duérmete mi niña

Duérmete mi amor

Marigold yawned and shifted in her father's embrace as he sang sweetly to her, her eyelids closing little by little, until she fell asleep. Standing up from bed, Xibalba silently went to her cradle and tucked her in, his lips softly peppering a kiss on her forehead.

"Que sueñes con los angelitos, pequeña."

However, as he walked back to bed, he slowed his pace and stared at it with a deep feeling of nostalgia. It had been whole month of spending nights alone, without her warmth, without her comfort… sometimes he'd conjure illusions of her to try and ease the pain, but there was no way he could ever replace her with an image; it wasn't even close to filling the void in his heart even a bit. Reluctantly, Xibalba lied down on bed once more and pulled the sheets over him to protect himself from the cold night air; he started caressing the empty spot next to him, as if it would bring her back or he would at least feel her presence somehow, but it was still empty.

As empty as his soul.

"Buenas noches…" Xibalba whispered sadly to no one in particular. "…Muertita."

He closed his eyes and drifted into another long, refreshing, but empty sleep.

The first thing he noticed was that he was not in his bed anymore, instead of feeling the softness of his mattress he felt the ticklish sensation of grass, and a warm summer breeze against his skin. His nose caught the scent of flowers all around him, as well as that of humid grass, but the dominant scent was that of marigolds and roses…

Wait, marigolds and roses?

On second thought, he noted that his head was resting on something soft, not a pillow, certainly, rather someone's legs. And someone was humming a little song, and running her hand down his cheek tenderly. While reluctant to open his eyes, Xibalba shifted on top of the grass and glanced up at his companion; when he did, his heart skipped a beat and his pupils shrunk in bewilderment.

"Hola, Balby."

Here she was, his La Muerte, his lovely esposa, with her beaming smile and her heavenly beauty. She was still as beautiful as she had been in life, but he noted that she wore no clothing; now that he thought of it, he felt unusually cold himself, and realized he was naked too. La Muerte's dark waves were cascading down her head and spreading out on top of the grass, but she wore one of her two marigold flowers on her hair. She was smiling down at him, her hand stroking his cheek.

"L-La Muerte?" although reluctant, Xibalba lifted himself from her lap and sat down next to her, staring at his beloved, fearing this might just be another illusion. He reached out a hand and touched her cheek with his palm, his thumb stroking her cheek longingly to make sure she was truly there.

"I'm here, my love." She corresponded the caress, taking his hand in her own. "I'm here."

Immediately, Xibalba threw himself at her arms and hugged her tightly, his eyes swelling up with tears of joy and despair. He buried his face into her hair, his wings wrapped around her body and his arms pulled her closer to his body, not wanting to ever let her go again. He was so happy he started sobbing.

"Shhhh… Don't cry, Balby, it's okay." La Muerte cooed, returning the embrace and stroking the back of his neck.

"Mi corazón, mi amor, mi vida…" Xibalba continued sobbing, "I've missed you so much…"

"Ay, Balby." La Muerte pulled back from the embrace and smiled at her husband as she wiped his tears away. "I never left you. I was always with you, you just couldn't see me." She planted a kiss on his cheek, before punching on his arm.

"Ow! What was that for?!" Xibalba whined, rubbing on the sore spot and saw her frown at him.

"That's for neglecting Marigold for two whole weeks." La Muerte reproached him mildly, but nevertheless she hugged him again. "But I missed you too, mi Balby."

"I'm not proud of what I did. I was blinded by grief and sorrow…"

"What matters is that you've rethought about things and you're doing the right thing. You've been doing a good job."

"You really think so?" Xibalba blushed when she ran a hand down his shoulder.

"Of course, Xibalba. I could tell Marigold grew attached to you; she loves you very much. I knew you'd be a good papi."

"I'm glad you think so, mi amor.

Xibalba looked at his surroundings, and found them quite familiar. The Yule tree that was giving them shade, the forest of green an thick trees around them, the small creek running down the field. Realization slowly came over him.

"La Muerte, is this 'our' place?"

She smiled and snuggled against him. "So you still remember it?"

Xibalba smiled and returned the embrace. "How could I ever forget? We used come on horseback and spend the day here."

"Remember the night before you went to war? You snuck into my room at midnight and woke me up to ask me to come here."

"I made you a candlelit dinner, and we spent the night here. I shall never forget it, mi amor."

The two of them started kissing tenderly, their lips joining together as they expressed their love. Xibalba ran his hands down his wife's back and his fingers through her hair, as his tongue explored the interior of La Muerte's mouth and once more tasted her sugar. He shivered in delight and pleasure when she ran her hands down his back and his wing bone. He didn't know how much time passed, but eventually they had to break the kiss to take a breath.

"You have not lost your touch, Balby." La Muerte purred at her husband as she twirled his moustache with her finger.

"Anything for you, my dear." Xibalba smiled, stroking her cheek.

Out of sudden, she grew sad. "It's time for you to go back, my love."

The joy and happiness he felt instantly evaporated. "What? But I don't want to go! I want to stay here with you!"

"I wouldn't like anything else, mi vida, but that's how it must be."

The dread and sorrow he felt when he lost her for the first time returned, and he held her hands tightly, his eyes swelling up with tears. "Please, mi corazón, don't leave me again!"

La Muerte smiled sadly at him as she caressed his cheek. "I'll never leave you, Balby." She grabbed the marigold in her hair and placed it in his hands, closing them gingerly. "I'll always be with you."

"Mi amor…" Xibalba embraced his wife once more as tears started rolling down his cheeks once more, especially when he felt his wife returning the embrace. After a while, he finally spoke. "Would you do something else for me, my dear…?"

"What is it, Balby?"

"Would you sing one last song for me?"

La Muerte smiled compassionately and pulled back from the hug to plant a kiss on her husband's forehead, and stroke his cheek. "Of course, mi vida."

Xibalba shifted so that he could rest his head on his wife's lap once more, and continued to sob gently as he felt her hand caressing his head.

Un adiós se llevo

Los años mas felices de mi vida

Dejándome el alma triste y fría

Volviendo a la soledad

Y a pensar cómo estarás

As he listened to her ambrosial voice like honey singing, his eyelids felt heavy; he fought to keep them open, but he couldn't help it, and he fell asleep. The last thing he felt before drifting off was La Muerte's lips coming into contact with his cheek.

When he opened his eyes back in the real world, he immediately sat down and looked around his surroundings. "La Muerte…?" He was disappointed and sad to find that he was back in his chambers, all alone once again... She was gone once more…

Wait… There's something in his hand. Xibalba looked down at his hands, and he was surprised and shocked when he realized he was holding a marigold in both of them. He stared at it for a long time, processing what he was seeing. It couldn't be, it was just a dream… But it felt so real… and now this.

"Muertita, are you here?"

He felt like an idiot, talking to the air, but the feeling went away when he felt a warm breeze-uncharacteristic to his realm-against his left cheek, it made him freeze in place. Taking a hand to his cheek, the being made out of tar glanced at the direction the breeze had come from, but found no one, and yet it felt like La Muerte had caressed his cheek. After a while, Xibalba smiled and looked down at the marigold as he started caressing its petals.

"Yes you are, mi amor."

Marigold started to sob, crunching up her little face as she started to cry. Placing the marigold on the crystal vase with its twin, Xibalba stood from bed and went to his daughter's crib to take her in his arms and head back to bed. "Shhhh…." He cooed at her, bouncing her in his arms. "Don't cry, mi florecita. It's going to be alright, papi's right here with you. I promise you, I'll make you the happiest little baby on the universe, my sweet."

As her father's voice soothed her, Marigold looked up at him with glossy eyes; but soon her attention was caught by a beautiful ethereal lady with dark hair and bright colorful eyes that reached out her hand and brushed her tears away with such a sweet gentleness. Marigold giggled and reached out for the lady, who smiled at her and stroked her cheek with her thumb. Her father, however, didn't apparently notice her.

Xibalba had the feeling when Marigold started to giggle and wave her arms out of sudden that, indeed, his Muertita was with them. Like the wind, he may not see her, but he could feel her presence; the warm feeling the mortals got in the Day of the Dead when their deceased loved ones visited them.

A few minutes later, Xibalba carefully accommodated his pillows so that Marigold wouldn't fall out of bed, and placed her on bed next to him; then he lied down and shifted to rest on his shoulder so he could hold his baby closer, shifting his wing so that she would be on top of it like a little nest. When Marigold drifted back to sleep, Xibalba kissed her cheek tenderly. "Dulces sueños, mi florecita." Then he glanced at the empty spot on his other side. "Buenas noches, mi amor."

As he pulled Marigold closer to him, and started drifting back to sleep, he swore he felt La Muerte's lips coming into contact with his own, and heard her voice when the wind outside blew.

Buenas noches, Balby.