Aztec drabble
Jul. 22nd, 2008 03:01 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
tygatiAttempting to bribe M. She knows for what. :) She also wanted a Mitzi drabble, so I provide Mitzi drabble. ^___^
Differences
Being a god was the strangest thing that had ever happened to him in his life. It wasn't so much the actual being a god part, although it was definitely taking getting used to the way everything felt different, as it was the little day to day things that had changed.
In the mornings, if Xolotl didn't have a dawn ceremony to attend, they'd take their time getting up out of the entirely too comfortable bedding and dressing. For a while that had been relatively normal, until bit by bit little pieces kept getting added to his wardrobe. Last week, his old loincloth had vanished entirely and been replaced by one of much softer material that had elaborate designs embroidered along the edges. It matched the neckpiece that had appeared the week before, and the bracelets that had shown up the week before that.
He had a feeling that most of that was Quetzalcoatl's doing, as the god of life and light tended to be far more interested in body decorations than his more subtle twin, but Xolotl certainly didn't seem to be objecting. If anything, it was making them even later to breakfast.
Breakfast was where things really started to feel strange. All his life he'd eaten the simple peasants' fare of plain tortillas, and occasionally a bowl of atolli on those sparse occasions when they'd had money for a little extra. Only once had he splurged on meat for a tamale, and he could still remember how it had tasted.
In the temple, however, breakfast was very different. There were still tortillas, but they were rolled and filled and covered with all kinds of fabulous things that he had no name for. There was fish, and quail, and fruit, and a wonderfully delicious brown drink that Xolotl had told him was called xocolatl.
Supper was even worse. Mitzi had learned to simply eat whatever Xolotl gave him and not ask questions.
Between meals and ceremonies there was an extraordinary amount of free time and an array of things to do that frequently left his head reeling. They played patolli (Xolotl usually won) and ball (Tezcatlipoca usually won) and a dozen other games that Mitzi had never even heard of before.
His favorite pasttime, however, was the dances.
When his parents had still been alive he'd gotten to watch a few of the sacred dances, and it had been one of the most beautiful things he'd ever seen. Now, being witness to those same dances performed by the very gods they'd been created to honor, it almost transcended beauty.
Especially when Xolotl danced.
It had been so very unexpected, that first time. Quetzalcoatl had acquired a drum from somewhere, pounding out a beat with unmatched skill, and Tezcatlipoca had produced a small flute to join in. Mitzi had enjoyed the music, though he could not add to it, and Xolotl had been silent beside him.
Until Quetzalcoatl had smiled, and called his name, and although Xolotl had grumbled, he'd risen to his feet.
And then he'd danced.
Later, then and every time Xolotl could be coaxed to dance, Mitzi would never be able to remember how much time passed, or what dances were performed, or much of anything. He only knew that it was beautiful, and that when the dances finally ended he was throbbing most painfully in response.
Fortunately Xolotl didn't seem to mind helping him with that little problem.
By far the hardest thing to adjust to, however, was the one he noticed last. At the time, he hadn't really given much thought to what it meant to be immortal, beyond the fact that it meant he could stay with Xolotl. But as the priests aged and died, and new ones came to take their place, and he saw Teteoinan's children grow up and have children of their own, he finally started to realise what it truly meant to live forever.
It frightened him a little, for he'd never wanted to be anything more than he was, but he thought that perhaps with time it would get easier. It would have to get easier, because he wasn't going to give it up. Giving it up would mean giving up Xolotl, and for Xolotl there was nothing he would not endure.
Xolotl was worth everything.
Differences
Being a god was the strangest thing that had ever happened to him in his life. It wasn't so much the actual being a god part, although it was definitely taking getting used to the way everything felt different, as it was the little day to day things that had changed.
In the mornings, if Xolotl didn't have a dawn ceremony to attend, they'd take their time getting up out of the entirely too comfortable bedding and dressing. For a while that had been relatively normal, until bit by bit little pieces kept getting added to his wardrobe. Last week, his old loincloth had vanished entirely and been replaced by one of much softer material that had elaborate designs embroidered along the edges. It matched the neckpiece that had appeared the week before, and the bracelets that had shown up the week before that.
He had a feeling that most of that was Quetzalcoatl's doing, as the god of life and light tended to be far more interested in body decorations than his more subtle twin, but Xolotl certainly didn't seem to be objecting. If anything, it was making them even later to breakfast.
Breakfast was where things really started to feel strange. All his life he'd eaten the simple peasants' fare of plain tortillas, and occasionally a bowl of atolli on those sparse occasions when they'd had money for a little extra. Only once had he splurged on meat for a tamale, and he could still remember how it had tasted.
In the temple, however, breakfast was very different. There were still tortillas, but they were rolled and filled and covered with all kinds of fabulous things that he had no name for. There was fish, and quail, and fruit, and a wonderfully delicious brown drink that Xolotl had told him was called xocolatl.
Supper was even worse. Mitzi had learned to simply eat whatever Xolotl gave him and not ask questions.
Between meals and ceremonies there was an extraordinary amount of free time and an array of things to do that frequently left his head reeling. They played patolli (Xolotl usually won) and ball (Tezcatlipoca usually won) and a dozen other games that Mitzi had never even heard of before.
His favorite pasttime, however, was the dances.
When his parents had still been alive he'd gotten to watch a few of the sacred dances, and it had been one of the most beautiful things he'd ever seen. Now, being witness to those same dances performed by the very gods they'd been created to honor, it almost transcended beauty.
Especially when Xolotl danced.
It had been so very unexpected, that first time. Quetzalcoatl had acquired a drum from somewhere, pounding out a beat with unmatched skill, and Tezcatlipoca had produced a small flute to join in. Mitzi had enjoyed the music, though he could not add to it, and Xolotl had been silent beside him.
Until Quetzalcoatl had smiled, and called his name, and although Xolotl had grumbled, he'd risen to his feet.
And then he'd danced.
Later, then and every time Xolotl could be coaxed to dance, Mitzi would never be able to remember how much time passed, or what dances were performed, or much of anything. He only knew that it was beautiful, and that when the dances finally ended he was throbbing most painfully in response.
Fortunately Xolotl didn't seem to mind helping him with that little problem.
By far the hardest thing to adjust to, however, was the one he noticed last. At the time, he hadn't really given much thought to what it meant to be immortal, beyond the fact that it meant he could stay with Xolotl. But as the priests aged and died, and new ones came to take their place, and he saw Teteoinan's children grow up and have children of their own, he finally started to realise what it truly meant to live forever.
It frightened him a little, for he'd never wanted to be anything more than he was, but he thought that perhaps with time it would get easier. It would have to get easier, because he wasn't going to give it up. Giving it up would mean giving up Xolotl, and for Xolotl there was nothing he would not endure.
Xolotl was worth everything.