Work Text:
The sound of her footsteps reverberated in the temple. Every long stride as heavy as the last one. Lola held her chin high, proud and confident even as her heart pumped anxiously underneath her ribcage. There was not a speck of dust on the polished white marble floors, the priests well versed in maintaining the utmost purity. White gave away to speckles of gold and black in the middle, leading her to the elevated altar in the back of the grandiose temple.
Her steps slowed as she took the stairs one at a time, the ceiling as high as ever as if to reach for the heavens. Her gaze landed upon the beautifully crafted altar at the top of the stairs. The golden border interlaced with dark hues, the black pillars that raised the altar and stopped just shy at the height of her hip. Sculptures of robed figures were carved on the sides of the altar and all faced the same direction. To the golden gates etched on the top, the entrance to the eternal paradise.
When she reached the final step, she lifted her head to gaze upon the patron of this temple. The statue of the underworld ruler loomed above her, an ethereal beauty that no mortal could ever replicate, the statue itself a mere replica that could never capture the true visage of the god of death.
Her eyes squinted as sunlight peeked from the stained glass behind death. She remembered how her family had sought the services of expert artists from outside the kingdom. Every berry had been worth it- a splatter of beautiful yellow tones stained the glass, carefully complimenting each glass piece.
The stained glass was perhaps the most time consuming piece of the entire temple. The artists had to be precise, failure an unacceptable outcome. Death must be placed in the middle for the stained glass to be symmetrical, the curved pieces flaring out around the statue. Each curve and rounded piece that made up the shape of the sun. A symbol of death’s lover and the reason why the temple had taken so long to build.
For a single mistake meant upsetting not only the god of death but the king of the gods as well.
The song of the sun and death were as old as time. Newly crowned king of the gods and drunk from victory, the sun had fallen from the sky. Walking the mortal land, the sun stumbled upon death who awaited the souls of lost children. It was said the sun fell in love at first sight, that death’s beauty and kindness had ensnared the king of the gods and so the sun chased and chased after death until even he could not resist the sun.
Their love story was one Lola often demanded to be told of as a bedtime story. For their love continued to be as strong as ever, the bards singing the courtship of the king of the gods and his beloved death. The hundreds of gifts that flooded the underworld because death couldn't bare to throw any of it away. How the sun sang death's praises to the heavens and the mortal realm, spreading his name far and wide until all knew who had caught his attention. The sun who gave death light and in return was given death's beating heart.
Lola had long admired and even envied the song of the sun and death. She had daydreamed often growing up, imagining her own love story to be as grand as the two gods. She had mellowed out after the years but it had never stopped her from wanting something akin to the tale. To have someone who would move mountains and gift her a star from the sky like the sun had done for death.
And as if to answer all her wishes and prayers, she met him. She knew he was the one.
But Loki was betrayed and Lola was left with her tears and her heart shattered to pieces. They had made a promise to be together forever- a promise that not even death could tear them apart.
The large white painted doors of the temple creaked open, groaning under the weight. Two knights entered the temple and stepped aside to let a woman pass through. A plump woman with vibrant pink hair parted in two, intricate braids that halted at her chest and tied off with deep purple ribbons. Bangs covered her forehead but high enough to display worrying brows. Fitted in a light azure gown that swept the white marble floor. Square shaped neckline embroidered in a soft white. Long sleeves that draped past her knees, her hands curling into fists as her cool gray eyes meet Lola's own, biting her painted red lips.
Looking at the newcomer was like staring at a mirror, only Lola's attire was entirely black. Mourning.
"Sister! Stop this at once!" Chiffon pleaded as she hurried down the aisle, "I am sorry that Loki is dead, I know you loved him so much, I know that you're drowning in grief but you cannot do this! You will risk incurring the god of death's fury!"
"Only if he actually hears me," Lola said, clutching the wooden box in her hands, "I have made up my mind. Chances are I will speak to an empty statue and hear nothing. Perhaps death may even ignore me. Perhaps I am not even worth a god's time but I will die before I give up on Loki. Let me do this, sister," her voice cracked, the pain still as raw as the time she first heard the news of Loki's untimely demise, "I have to try. Whatever it takes to bring Loki back."
Chiffon closed her eyes, pained to hear the sorrow in Lola's voice. Her sister did not say anything more and her silence was an answer itself.
Taking a deep breath, Lola turned and stared up at the statue of death.
"Hear me," Lola began, clear and firm, "I am Charlotte Lola. I am your devotee. I spoke your name first before my own mother and father. I have prayed to you many a night. I prayed to you for a love that resembled even a minuscule of what you have with the sun. You answered and gave Loki to me, but now he is gone."
Swallowing, she straightened her back and raised her head, "I know that all mortals die but Loki should not have died. I refuse to accept it!"
Her heart boomed loudly to her own ears, "I challenge you, god of death, to a game. If I win, return Loki to the land of the living. If I lose, then take my soul."
Silence greeted her.
The only sound that emerged in the silence was the shifting of armor, the knights of her family uneasy in the face of near blasphemy.
The thundering of her heart began to wane and Lola swallowed down a sob, body shaking at the unfairness of it all. Her vision blurred, unshed tears welling in her eyes before trailing down her cheeks. She could feel the incoming scream that threatened to burst from her lungs. Knees wobbly, she would have heaved onto the shiny marble floors if it weren't for a loud booming sound that jolted her out of her misery.
Lola held onto the altar for dear life as the ground cracked, splitting the marble in two. Her heart jumped to her throat as a figure manifested from the open crevice.
Gold. Gold was the first thing Lola noticed.
Gold eyes brimming with light, gold earrings adorning the ears, gold chains wrapped around a wide neck and continued downward, hidden underneath a dark feathery cloak. Gold rings on each inked finger, gold bracelets that spiraled upward, once more disappearing under the heavy cloak. The face was hidden under the plumage of his cloak, his dark hair concealed from a furred spotted hat. The tone of his skin a beautiful bronze and interestingly enough, his hands displayed bold dark lines. She did not dismiss the word they spelled out. He was tall too, taller than an average man.
Although the figure did not reveal his face, Lola knew in her bones who stood before her. Each piece of jewelry shaped in the likeness of the stained glass of the temple. All symbols of the sun.
The ground closed up as if never there to begin with.
Death looked at her.
"I hear thee," he spoke, the baritone voice heavy with power. Ancient and timeless, "I accept your challenge, Charlotte Lola."
The air was suffocating and Lola could hardly breathe, vision spotty with black circles. Head pounding with a headache that she swore split her mind in two. She gasped for air, the wooden box slipping from her hands and tumbling onto the floor.
A moment later, the overwhelming presence lifted and Lola gasped for breath, trembling as she rested her arms on the altar to support her weak legs.
After gaining her bearings, she hesitantly looked back up. Death's golden eyes pierced her. Watching. Observing. Approving, she dare thought.
"What game are you challenging me to?" The god of death asked.
Heart racing at the opportunity she thought she would never have, she leaned down to pick up the wooden box, nearly dropping it once again as she hastily straightened her back. She would not falter, she would not bumble around like a fool in front of the god she had prayed to since she could walk.
Unlatching the wooden box, she showed the contents to death and her voice was shaky as she answered, "Chess."
-
Death was not an easy opponent. Lola was under no illusion he would be for it would be an offense to her belief and to her god.
However, chess was the game Lola has played her entire life. Tournaments after tournaments she prevailed on top, undefeated. The number one player in the kingdom. A title she carried with pride since she was one and six years old. She was confident in her skill, at her ability to play the game and adapt to her opponent's tactics.
So why was half of her pieces gone?
The square board laid on a wooden table brought by the knights of her family, positioned at the bottom of the stairs that led to the altar. The cushion chairs made out of fine ebony wood supported them as Lola was seated across the god of death. She still remembered how shaken the knights were, how tight lipped Chiffon was and how she had bowed deeply in front of death before taking a seat on the first row of pews, unable to take her eyes off of her. As if Lola could disappear at any second. A valid concern, considering the possible outcome of the challenge.
The temple wasn't empty anymore either. The knights had spread the word in the midst of obeying Lola's commands. Priests lined up the front pews, praying and gawking to their patron. The people of her family's kingdom slowly trickled in, whispers arising in the background and prayers filling the temple.
Not a single person dared to speak any louder, content to watch death before their very eyes. The only deity that didn't frequent the mortal realm like so many others. There was reverence in the temple but Lola felt the fear too. She herself was unable to shake it off.
Since the game began, death had not uttered a single word. The god remained silent, golden irises glowing as they tracked the chess board and her. His full attention was on the game- on her. He didn't spare the others a glance.
Morning had arrived and left, the sun at its highest peak by how long the two had been playing. Lola could feel the gnawing hunger in her stomach, the light breakfast she had barely been able to eat with what she had planned.
Then, death spoke.
"We will stop for now," the god of death's voice was commanding and silenced the small whispers and prayers, everyone swiftly holding their breaths to listen, "Eat, Lola-ya, and I will return when you call to me to continue our game."
Her heart pounded as death stood up. A dark boot stepped on the stairs to the altar and with a boom that echoed in the temple, the marble cracked and death manifested out of existence, the ground closing back up after every spec of death was gone.
Lola lost her composure, panting quickly and drawing heavy breaths without the intense stare gazing upon her. She swallowed and vaguely realized her sister had all but rushed toward her, crushing her in a tight embrace as she barked orders for food. The temple became alive with loud voices, erasing all of the silence.
"Lola," Chiffon called to her, worried with fraught, "Are you okay!?"
"I am," Lola managed to answer, her thundering heart beginning to calm with her sister's comforting presence.
"Well I'm not!" Chiffon cried, still holding her tightly, "Lola- you must win! You have to! I cannot lose you, sister."
"I-I will try," Lola stuttered, eyes studiously looking at each piece still left on the board.
The meal brought to her was filling, something quick to eat for she was not willing for death to change his mind and back out of the challenge. A god's whims were unpredictable and she knew she was fortunate to have caught death's attention with her call. Fortunate or ill-fated. She did not know which. The priests, at least, prayed for her victory. Some of them prayed for mercy.
Lola tuned them out, focusing onto the chess board. Her hackles were still raised, her heart booming as loudly as ever, her nerves alight with fear and anxiety.
When she called for the god of death, he reappeared in the same manner. He took his seat across from her and waited for her to make her move. Whispers arose.
Lola tried to ignore them- she was used to an audience. She had played in front of hundreds of people. But this was a stark difference. Her life was on the line. Loki's life on the palm of her hand. Fear clung to her when death took another of her wooden piece off the board.
Lola was running out of moves and in her panic, could not think clearly.
She moved her king. Death chased it.
Lola's heart pounded fiercely to her own ears.
She was out of moves. Her king could not escape.
"Checkmate," Death declared.
The silence in the temple was deafening. Lola stared at the board, at her loss, at the few scant remaining pieces of her opponent. The words spilled from her mouth.
"A best two out of three," Lola proposed, voice trembling as she met golden eyes.
She could have sworn death smiled.
"Very well. I will be here tomorrow. I look forward to playing with such a skilled player again."
Death rose from his chair and cracked the marble floor once more. His disappearance was swift and his presence gone for the evening.
Lola did not know how she returned to her chambers that night. She remembered her sister guiding her back to the castle, she remembered her sister's gentle son patting her leg, she remembered her sister's husband furious but worried.
She had lost and was only alive because death was entertained by her. She curled and twisted in her bed.
Two more games. She must win them both.
Loki was waiting for her.
-
There was a huge crowd in front of the temple but the sight of her family crest stitched into the sleeves of her dress allowed her passage. Like the sea parting to lead her to the abyss.
Lola paid them no attention. She could not afford distractions.
Priests murmured as she walked past them, her chin held high as hundreds of eyes looked upon her. Ahead, the wooden table, the ebony chairs, and the chess board remained untouched. The very items that were used by the god they all worshiped. She supposed they were afraid to taint them.
Pulling back the chair, Lola took her seat and clasped her hands together.
"Hear me, my god," Lola proclaimed, her voice ringing throughout the temple, "Please join me so that we may continue the challenge."
The fear was less constricting now that she knew what to expect. Her nerves were soothed somewhat by the fact that while death would take her soul if she lost, he was honoring her terms first. She had not needed to worry if he would approach her today- something deep in her soul told her death would answer her. Because he had given her his word and while Lola feared him, she was still wholly devoted to him.
The god of death arrived in the same manner he had yesterday. He resumed his place across from her. Nothing about him had changed. He still wore the gleaming pieces of jewelry enriched with the sun's symbols. He still wore the heavy cloak that hid much of his form. His face still a mystery.
Out of the corner of Lola's eyes, she saw many of the people in the temple bow to the god of death. Their patron did not notice them- or perhaps he did not care who was in here with them. Death looked- dare she say it- almost eager to begin the game.
Lola asked, "White or black?"
"I made the first move yesterday, so black."
Lola kept a poker face to mask her anticipation. She had the opening move. An advantageous position that opened up many strategies.
"As you wish."
Taking a deep breath, Lola moved her pawn. Death did the same.
Perhaps it was because Lola was becoming familiar with the god who sat across from her that she retained her clarity. Her mind not as frazzled as it had been yesterday. Her nerves, while alight with anxiety of the unknown, were controllable.
Lola took a pawn from death. Golden eyes widened slightly.
"Charlotte Lola-ya," hearing her full name from death's lips had goosebumps rise all over her skin, "The master of chess. Your name has spread far and wide. Yet, your play yesterday disappointed me. You made mistakes. I sensed that I frightened you. Do I still frighten you?"
The god of death knew. Of course he did. He was a god and she a mere mortal.
Swallowing hard, Lola answered, "Your presence is mighty and all powerful but it does not lessen my faith in you."
"Even if I told you I can read your every move?"
Could he? Was all this pointless in the end? Did it matter what Lola did? Was she doomed to lose? To have her soul taken and never reunite with Loki? To never have her wedding with the man she loved to the stars and moon?
But it didn't make sense. Why would her god agree to her challenge then?
Lola staunchly met death's gaze, "Perhaps you can but you will not do so. It defeats the purpose. A game where you know all the answers is a disappointing one. You are here because you want a challenge. You said it yourself, I am a master of chess. There is no one better than me."
For a moment, she feared she might have overstepped. That she had read the god wrong and would suffer the consequences for it. That her arrogance would be her undoing. Even the people in the temple held their bated breaths at her audacity. Someone gasped in the background, a shriek that sounded an awful lot like Chiffon.
The god of death chuckled, the laughter light and airy. Hearty. Lola loosened her stiff posture. Death moved his knight and continued speaking.
"Your reasoning is sound, though in truth, it is because you remind me of him."
Lola blinked, taken aback, "Who do I remind you of?"
The god of death answered, his deep voice soft and fond, "The king of the gods."
The comparison was a high one. Lola could scarcely believe it but it had come from death himself, the god the sun was courting and the god who knew the king better than anyone else.
Moving a chess piece, Lola quietly questioned, "How do I remind you of the king of the gods?"
When death spoke it was full of fondness and whimsy, "You took one look at Loki-ya and decided he was the one. You chased him. You courted him. Stubborn and foolhardily, and even now, you refuse to accept his death."
Death made his move on the board and Lola could see the faint smile through the dark feathers, "You two are alike in many ways."
There was a certain giddiness that rose in her. The fanciful childhood naivete she had held onto for years, wishing and praying for her love story to mimic the song of the sun and death. She had long since matured but to hear from death that hers and Loki's story bared a resemblance to his own- it left her smiling despite the nature of the challenge.
"I am honored," Lola said, buzzing with what felt like content, her mind clearer than ever as she moved her piece.
The god of death hummed, pausing as he scanned the board before, "Loki-ya is waiting for you. He is quite loud in the underworld."
Her breath hitched, her eyes widened, her heart raced.
Loki.
"You can join him."
The frightening part of death's words was the mere fact that it sounded nothing like a threat. They were a comfort, a benevolent offer.
Taking a deep breath, Lola turned to look for her sister among the crowd of worshipers. Chiffon sat in the very front, her face perking up as their eyes met. She should be with her son and husband yet she adamantly refused to be anywhere else but at her side. Her sister didn't look frantically worried- almost as if she had no idea of the conversation taking place.
Death clarified, "No one can hear us. The last thing they heard was who you remind me of."
Calming her heart, Lola returned to face death, "Thank you for the kind offer but I will have to refuse it. I do not intend to lose."
The god of death, Lola thought, must like her on some level to not smite her for her confidence.
The game proceeded, their pieces on equal footing.
With a blink, Lola's hand clutched the last piece from her opponent. The board held only three of her pieces.
"That was a good game. You won, Lola-ya," the god of death said, chuckling softly and this time Lola knew the entire temple could hear him, "I will return tomorrow for our final match."
Lola watched death disappear, feeling a sense of lightness run through her. The cheers that filled the temple had her wince at the intensity from it. Chiffon was practically sobbing into her hair as Lola remained seated.
One more game.
-
There were too many people. It was as if the entire kingdom was in attendance. The knights of her family had to raise the banner high above them. Most of Lola's siblings had gathered in such a short period of time- scolding her for the reckless challenge and crying for her fate. Her second eldest brother stood tall but Lola could see the tension on his shoulders, could see the crack of concern underneath the carefully crafted indifference.
The absentee siblings had written her letters- unable to travel to the temple in such a short period of time but intimately aware of the proceedings. Word had spread to the entire continent and the world held their breaths, anticipating for the worst and for the best.
Lola would either fail or succeed. The thought was dizzying.
The sound of her heels against the white marble resounded in the temple as she headed for the ebony chair. The hem of her dark dress and sleeves glided against the floor.
Confidence swirled through her very core when she took her seat. She spoke clearly, calling for death's presence.
The god of death kept his word. He sat down across from her once more. Lola believed the god before her looked relaxed considering the circumstances. The behavior fueled her tiny suspicion but she didn't give it more thought- her mind entirely on the last match.
"White or black?"
Death peered at her, his golden eyes glinting, "White."
Surprisingly, Lola was not bothered by this decision. She had won many matches going second and death these last two days had prove to her he would not use any underhanded methods. The god of death played the game fair and Lola knew she was fortunate for it. She heard tales of the other gods- the goddess of fortune clever, the god of mischief tricky, the goddess of greed playful, and many others.
Death had taken a piece from the board when the doors to the temple was slammed open. The force of it shook the walls and floor and Lola feared a tremble of the land, that it would halt the game but more importantly, that it would harm the people in attendance, her siblings, and herself.
However, never in her wildest imagination did she think the king of the gods himself would show up.
His image was in every depiction. The sun who roamed the land all over, the statues that held greater resemblance than any other god. The favored tattered straw hat that clung to his back, the vibrant purple sash tied around his hips, the pure white cardigan and shorts. The scar on his chest giant and raw, burning red for all to see. The heart shaped pendent that pulsed over the scar, death's beating heart in it. The intimidating bulk, deceptive in height. Flowing wisps of white hair that mimicked the clouds. The old pale scar underneath an eye, the crimson irises that observed the temple. Searching.
Belatedly, Lola realized the entire temple was kneeling to the sun. For there was only one god who ruled all others. It did not matter that this was not the sun's temple- he was king of all.
All at once, her anxiety spiked and she shifted out of her chair to kneel. A second had barely passed when death spoke up, if albeit irritated.
"You've knelt- return to your seat, Lola-ya. It is your turn."
She nervously flitted to death but obeyed nonetheless, straightening her legs and sliding in the seat. Her hands fidgeted when the sun god's voice boomed in the temple.
"Torao! I found you!" The sun ran down the aisle and his inhumane wide smile forced Lola to look away, "What are you doing? Why are you out here?"
Death answered, "I am playing chess. This mortal has challenged me to a best out of three and I accepted it," his golden eyes scanned the still kneeling worshipers, "My king, there are elderly in the temple."
The sun god blinked, as if noticing the mortals in the room, and casually waved a hand to the attendees, "As you were. Pretend I'm not here!"
He was climbing the stairs by the time he reached into his pocket, smile all gum and teeth, and presented a yellow box to death. Boyishly handsome, came the sudden thought.
"I got you another courting gift!"
Lola nearly jumped out of her own skin when the sun floated over death, his white hair swaying with the movement. She felt as if she was intruding when the king of the gods embraced death around the neck, exclaiming indignantly, "Torao, come on, take off your cloak! Let me see you!"
What is going on? Lola wanted to question. She knew better. A small part of her, however, was enthralled by the two gods. Here they were, loving as the tales said so. She saw the moment death's shoulders slumped, the way he readily gave in. Not submission- not entirely but something that ran deeper.
Gasps rang in the air when death unlatched his cloak and draped it over the chair. Death's true face for all to see.
The statue paled in comparison.
The god of death was beautiful.
She understood then why the king of the gods had chased him. She also couldn't help but notice how much jewelry clung to death. A light chain that wrapped around his torso. The chain that was strapped to his thighs. The anklet on his foot. And they were all drenched in symbols of the sun.
The king of the gods had evidently left his claim for the entire world to see- and they all bore witnessed to it. A heavy reminder of who held the sun's love. Of who death belonged to.
"Nika-ya," the name of the king brought shivers down her spine. A name no mortal spoke unless done in prayer, "Be patient. I will open your gift after the match."
Ruby eyes swiftly met her gaze. Lola swallowed, her nerves getting the best of her. Would the king of the gods smite her for death's easy dismissal of him? Would the sun curse her for having death's attention? Worse, would the king of the gods be upset if death lost to her?
But there was no harsh glare or threatening words. Instead, the sun huffed and pouted, crossing his arms to show his displeasure, much like how a child would. Lola did not let his casual mannerisms throw her off- the sun was the strongest god. Carrying the sky on his shoulders to prove a point, wrestling with titans and beating them to submission, beheading the previous king. He was allowed to act so ungodlike for there was no one who could tell him otherwise.
"Fine," the sun reluctantly said, "I guess I'll wait- oh, is that mortal over there painting you?"
Lola could only blink as the sun sprinted down to one of the pews, gleefully smiling at the artist who looked seconds away from passing out.
"Hey! Are you painting Torao? I wanna see- this is no good, he's got his cloak on! He just took it off, draw another and give it to me! I'll, uh… grant you whatever you want in return! How does that sound?"
She had never seen an artist hurriedly drop their current project for another. For a god to commission an artist was rare. Many rarities have been occurring. Her hands fisted. Maybe another would happen if- no, when she won.
With the king of the gods' appearance, Lola believed the match would be much more difficult. After all, what god would let another see them lose? Especially if it was the god courting him.
However… the game from there was easy. Suspicious, she narrowed her eyes, thinking of the worst when every pessimistic thought flew away as she noticed how death's gaze constantly strayed to the sun.
Oh.
The king of the gods had done her a favor she could never repay and he would never know it. Neither of them would, she realized.
She nearly laughed. Pained but the type she welcomed. Loki had done the same, embroiled in a war council but never able to completely take his eyes off of her.
Lola missed him so much her heart ached.
Head held high, Lola confidently moved a piece and declared, "Checkmate."
The god of death's eyes slid to her and he blinked at the board. Death laughed and Lola could see the sincerity in it, the way his eyes crinkled and his mouth drew to a small smile.
"You won again. Congratulations, Lola-ya. Not many can win against me and not many can have their loved one return from the underworld."
Loki.
He would be back at her side again.
Lola bursted into silent tears, having fought so hard to hold them back. Only, these tears were of joy.
She tried to pull herself together, wiping away the tears with her sleeve and tentatively said, "Thank you, my god. I am grateful, truly, but I cannot help but wonder… why? So many have lost their loved ones… why did you accept my challenge? Why did you agree to continue even after I had lost? Was it because of my title? My skill with the game?"
"The gods are allowed to have favorites," death quietly said, "You have always been one of mine."
"Then- Loki!" Lola couldn't help but exclaim, "You truly gave him to me? When I asked for someone to love me like the sun loves you?"
Death chuckled, "I didn't choose him. Nika-ya did. We listened. You wanted someone like Nika-ya and your Loki-ya wanted someone like me. It helps that I am your patron and Nika-ya is Loki-ya's patron. Some might even say you and him were fated to be," his eyes glinted with mirth, "Just like what you always wanted, isn't it?"
Oh. That was absolutely embarrassing. But Lola swam past it as she smiled brightly at her god. He had listened and he would always listen, she realized.
"Torao? What are you saying? I wanna know!"
The sun pulled at death's arm, trying to get his attention and Lola realized death's words had been for her ears only.
A god's favorite.
Lola bowed deeply to them.
The next day, Loki had barreled into her home and dropped to his knees before her, starry eyed as if Lola was his goddess.
On the day of their wedding, Lola had recognized the pair of golden eyes in the crowd.
She smiled at death and a blink later he was gone.