A/N: Now, this idea is not really mine. This drawing of Grave Painters with Tangled references by an artist on Tumblr, who I apologize because I cannot remember your username, inspired me. I loved your doodle so much; I think it would make a good story. So, if you are reading this please give yourself a shout out too cause I wouldn't be able to make this without you.

Chapter 4

The Magic of Amor

"Are you sure about this, your Majesty? Given how long and thick your hair-not that it's not beautiful, of course-it will take us a good few hours to get it all fixed," Leah, one of La Muerte's handmaidens that was blessed with deft hands commented as she fingered one of the shiny licorice strands. Fearing too that the luscious sugar locks may just snap in her hands, she handled them with the dearest of care. Imagine her intrigue when the ruler of the Land of the Remembered had requested for a new change of hairstyle. She really could do with a new, refreshing coif. With luxurious flowing tresses like these that could inspire great envy in other women, herself included, Leah was determined to ensure this new style the queen had in mind would be achieved in all its imagined perfection. However, as she took in the mass of shiny ebony glory, she was beginning to have reservations on the whole ordeal.

La Muerte though was not going to let this go. She had been having this idea bouncing around in her head for a while now. Particularly while, as Mary Beth, she had noticed the current coiffures modern ladies were sporting in the museum nowadays. There was no harm in trying something different. Besides, today Xibalba had promised her a little surprise and had kept absolute mum. He was especially dedicated to ensure she did not ruin her own happiness. Despite all the girlish pouts, kitten eyes and tempting caresses, he had kept his lips sealed. Huh, if only he could remain silent like that after he had just spouted something totally insensitive. Then, maybe, things would go more smoothly. Their reconciling was off on the good roads nonetheless. Her beau was trying his hardest to be more open minded about the humans though his dislike of children had not truly wane. Still, she had to give him credit for sticking to his end of the wager: no poking his unwanted nasal cavity into the mortals' affairs. Well, now and then, he would scare the pants off an unsuspecting human just for the fun of it but at least he was not dragging them down to their afterlife prematurely. Getting back together was going just fine and now, he had hoped to add a little spice into their making up with a little spontaneity.

In spite of all odds and how the grains of sand in her glass would run, she was going to get her hair ready in time for that occasion. She gave an encouraging smile to Leah and patted her hands. "Just do your best, Leah. Please. I really want this and besides, it is high time for a change," As she said this, her eyes darted to the mannequin in her bedchamber where her giant sombrero laid, the candles extinguished and marigolds forlorn. It almost looked upset at having been casted aside in favor for something fresher. "I'm sure we can finish by tonight. Xibalba hopes to surprise me with something very special by then."

At the mention of the ruler of the Land of the Forgotten, Leah visibly shuddered. She had hoped to not be detected by La Muerte given how she and the cold tar deity had reunited in terms of romance. Unfortunately, the goddess had noticed and turned to her, eyeing her with uncertain eyes. Leah hurried to issue a panicked apology but was cut off by La Muerte. "Is it really that hard to imagine, Leah, that I would fall in love with him again?"

Leah set her jaw in place. Her mind was searching rapidly for a suitable response when again the queen who sighed deeply halted her. "You know, Leah, amor is a very manipulative tease. Sometimes, he thinks you don't deserve anyone right at this moment but many years later, he'll surprise you. Other times, he lets you think that you're perfectly all right without the love of your life but really you're not. And most annoyingly, he will make you fall in love with someone you never imagined you would ever love. Because, unfortunately that is love's nature." She looked up to smile wistfully at her faithful handmaiden who hung onto every word with wide eyes.

Leah had been rather unlucky in love. Before she had died and became a loyal servant to the kindhearted La Muerte, she had suffered a string of unsuccessful liaisons. Men to her were deceitful cheaters who only hoped to drink the milk for free but never to pay for the whole cow. She had perished tragically from suffering severe complications while carrying an illegitimate child, a memento from her last ailing attachment. Now, with her premature dead baby Juan, she lived down in the Land of the Remembered, making herself useful by serving the people's beloved ruler. La Muerte proved not only a just and giving ruler, but a wonderful voice of wisdom. Yet, after listening to such eloquent advice, she turned away, her gaze at a far corner of the room. In that tiny corner, she saw herself, forever doomed to be single, as it appeared no one wanted her for more than a few hours. The goddess took her small hands tenderly in hers, a vastly required maternal touch.

"Leah, amor has been fearfully unkind to you, I know. But here, in the land of the Remembered, I will not give up hope that you will find someone who truly will cherish you and little Juan. How about Consuelo? He has been eyeing you," Leah balked at such a fanciful idea. Consuelo was a hardworking handyman La Muerte sometimes called over to fix certain things in the castle who had fallen misfortune to a work related accident. After being crushed by a ton of bricks without warning, the amiable laborer had gained entrance to the afterlife. He was truly a nice person and rather good looking with his dark brown curls and green eyes. However, he was very soft-spoken and often casted his gaze down while speaking to anyone of the opposite gender. Surely, a silent, diligent worker such as him would want nothing to do with a sprightly, jaded lonely mother.

Noticing how skeptical her handmaiden had become, La Muerte chuckled and whirled back around on her chair and resuming her position facing her mirror. "Just consider it, Leah. Who knows? Amor is a very surprising man. Now come along, dear, we need to get started if we wish to be ready in the next few hours." Leah nodded her obedience, incredibly relieved that the queen did not decide to push the matter about her lack of love. Taking up a portion of the silken mass in one hand and plucking a marigold from a basket nearby with the other, she set herself a strenuous, methodical task.

Time passed without one even knows it in the land below where the dead roamed either festively or doomed to loneliness. The people of the Land of the Remembered were engrossed in their gorging on sweet treats or dancing to wild mariachi to notice that the ruler of the Land of the Forgotten had decided to trespass on their merrymaking. Not like they had anything to say about it though. It had been a weird time for the people to accept and get adjusted to their fair queen reconciling with this supposedly loveless deity but after witnessing just how her golden eyes lit up with delight in his presence, they realized that as long as she was happy, they could be as well.

If only Xibalba treated them with a little more cordiality. He was respectful enough if one called indifference a trait of respect. They concluded that as long as you did not invade his "personal bubble" as he liked to name it, he would not give them any trouble. The god was carelessly passing through the various partiers, in search of his quite literal sweetheart. He had a very splendid treat planned for her and none of these ridiculously drunk-and certainly would be diabetic-fools were going to get in the way. La Muerte had sent a message to him half an hour before they were supposed to meet that she wanted him to wait at the entrance of her castle. When he had reached the noted destination, he noticed a crowd of her people had gathered there, especially those who had decided to restrain themselves a little in their decadence. He raised a silver eyebrow and prodded the nearest skeleton next to him with snake staff.

"What's with the illegal gathering? Did La Muerte call you all too?" The corpse, a young man who had departed due to a badly aimed arrow rubbed his back with an irritated frown. He knew better than to keep Xibalba's curiosity simmering so he responded-albeit with a hint of offense-that there had been lips flapping about how their ruler had something she wished to unveil. Well, that did little to satisfy Xibalba's desire to know. If anything, it fueled his need to see just what his little darling had planned.

"Hey! You here too to see the great unveiling?" He shut his eyes with a groan of annoyance. This was just too wonderful. Not only were the many little lemmings of the kingdom intruding on his private date with La Muerte, that waxy idiot was here too. "Man, what do you think it is? Ooh, I wonder if it's a new dress! Or a new magic trick she learnt! Or new dishes for a fiesta! It's amazing how servants can pass gossip along, right?"

Apparently ignoring his incessant, excited chatter was not an effective way of getting rid of the Candle Maker. In fact, the ignoramus pretty much cozied up to him. "Hey now, we can get along better now can't we…. Balby?"

"Silence, you! And don't call me that!" He jabbed his snake staff threateningly at his teaser's cloudy beard. The Candle Maker now held up his hands in disarming defense. Xibalba punctuated it with a warning hiss and turned back to look up the castle's entrance longingly. "Only she can call me that."

The Candle Maker shook his head, smiling, having been able to hear his muttering. At that point, a united gasp arose from the crowd of onlookers as the castle doors opened and out stepped La Muerte…without her trademark sombrero. "Hey now, where'd that trendy cap of hers go?" Xibalba's eyes widened. La Muerte went almost everywhere without that gaudy thing adorning her gorgeous hair. The goddess in question now had her arms akimbo, shaking her head.

"I'm supposing the servants have been spreading that I have done something new that I apparently wish to share. But all right, it's not really that big a deal but I think it is a very new happening for me," With that, she spun around and the again, a loud gasp echoed from the gatherers. Xibalba's jaw dropped. The Candle Maker this time joined him and did not pull it back into place.

La Muerte's lusciously thick, dreamily wavy locks were plaited into a princess plait, with glowing marigolds woven into the close fitting crevasses. A row of tiny buds decorated the crown of her head and the ribbons holding the braid in place were a darker, glossier fabric of her dress. She was positively enchanting. It was as though she were the protagonist of a well-loved children's fairy tale with her fantastic new hairdo. Xibalba continued to stand there with his mouth hanging open as her subjects ran to her, raining down on her enthusiastic compliments.

His mesmerized condition was broken by an elbow nudge the Candle Maker gave to him, his cloudy eyebrows waggling. "She certainly looks fine, don't she, huh?" Xibalba's only response was to shove his smirking face out of his own before clearing a path for himself through the appraising horde before addressing his blooming marigold.

"You never fail to astound me with your beauty, mi amor," He leaned on his snake staff, taking in her intricate braid from all angles. "You have definitely outdone yourself. It certainly is a refreshing change from that gaudy-I mean gorgeous-sombrero of yours." La Muerte shook her head at his convenient slip of the tongue but had to admit that not wearing her hat and all its heavy adornments for a night was very liberating. She whirled around for him, the swishing braid following her every twirl and movement with unsurpassable grace.

"So, you approve, Balby? Should I keep to this then?" Xibalba cupped his chin as though in deep thought as he circled her, surveying her well woven plait.

"Hmm, it is indeed very majestic, mi amor. But then again, anything on you looks stunning. However," He lifted up the braid with a disappointed look in his eyes. "I won't be able to now run my fingers through it. I rather like the feeling of your silken strands around her hands."

"That's because you also like to pluck them to chew on." That was her flat response and Xibalba threw his hands up rather comically. La Muerte giggled and then pecked him on the cheek much to the disgust of the younger dead surrounding her. "Perhaps you're right. It did take Leah a good few hours to get my hair like this and to ensure the marigolds stayed in place. I may just reserve this particular style for a special occasion," She lowered her voice to whisper into his ear, sending shivers throughout his tar frame. "Such as this one, my dear Balby."

"Well, let's not waste time then, mi amor." He hooked his arm with hers. "I have got quite the spectacle to show you. It may be unlike anything you have ever seen." Before, they could ascend; a shout begging for patience stopped them. Xibalba scowled at the intruding handmaiden but La Muerte immediately turned to receive her clamoring audience. Leah whispered a few words to the queen and the two women shared a private conversation, one Xibalba watched with raised eyebrows of piqued interest. Once the two broke their verbal contact, he asked her what had transpired. La Muerte answered with a grin that her loyal handmaiden had decided to take a chance on Amor once more.

"Who knew that shy Consuelo could be such a sweet talker with the right girl?"

"Funny, you asked the same thing about me. But you called me "an incorrigible bit of tar." He accepted the slap on his shoulder as they both shared a hearty laugh before heading up into the mortal world. The Candle Maker watched the two with an approving nod. For a selfish, lying mess of icky tar, that Xibalba can be quite the stud after all.

When the two deities had risen from their graves up into the center of San Angel cemetery, La Muerte glanced around her. There was nothing out of the ordinary. She half-expected something flamboyant, knowing Xibalba's showman personality but there was not a tombstone out of place. Her lover chuckled at her expectation of something wild and wacky and took her hands gently. "Wait, mi amor, let us give it a couple of minutes."

Somewhere from the balcony of their new home of wedded bliss, Maria and Manolo approached a lone table, where a lantern awaited to be lit and sent off. Each lantern had an adorable miniature design of La Muerte in a drawn heart. "I never knew that old bit of tar had such a romantic streak in him," Maria commented as Manolo lit the inside of the lantern and casting it upwards into the air and, as Xibalba had planned, the wind carried it across the direction to the graveyard. Chuckling, the guitarist turned to his wife and kissed her on the cheek.

"Ah, my dear, amor makes one do the most ridiculous things but those things are often done out of the most heartfelt intentions." Maria smiled at her husband's eloquent words and they shared a tender lip lock as they watched their lantern float up, signaling for other households to cast up their own lanterns. Significantly, Xibalba had ensured each household that sent up a lantern was one that enjoyed passionate and devoted amor.

"Ah, my sweet one, look. Do you see that?" La Muerte's eyes focused on the night sky and she let out a gasp of wonder as the flood of lanterns, each depicting a tiny her in a heart came gliding out like dancing fairies into over the cemetery. Some floated just nearby for her to touch one and send it back up high into the night sky. Her eyes glistened with brimming gratitude as she watched some of them disappear into the stars, almost wanting to etch itself into the sky as an eternal reminder of her lover's surprise for her. Before she completely burst into tears of sheer delight, she turned back to Xibalba who had caught two lanterns for them to send back out on their journey. It was a journey to illustrate just how prominent Amor was about them and how despite being shared by rulers of the Dead, it would never ever die out.

"Ay, Balby, how did you ever manage this?" He smirked, feeling extremely pleased at himself for making her so dewy eyed with contentment at her present. "It was simple really, sweetheart. I merely told Manolo that I wished for something special for you that I think he and Maria could do for us. Besides, it is sort of minor payback for me giving him another chance at winning his wife. They rounded up all the married couples and lovers of the village to design a lantern of you, for you are the pillar of love, warmth and passion and send it out when it was pitch black so that the whole village will see just how much of amor you could bring to countless of people, whether living or dead. It is also for me to show you just how very, very, extremely serious I am about this reunion of us, my love. You were worried I may not be, that I would betray you again and I hope that this would finally set your mind at ease. Does it?"

There was no reply. Not that there was a possibility of La Muerte giving one as she had embraced Xibalba tightly in her arms, her red lips pressed against his black ones in an explosively emotional kiss, her tears of joy running down her cheeks. This horrid, competitive, deceitful and cunning trickster had just melted her heart and she loved every bit of him. Amor had done well for her. From now on, everyday, she will send a little prayer of thanks to him. Once released, Xibalba had the goofiest lovesick grin on his face and La Muerte giggled, playing with his white beard.

"So…I'm taking that as a yes?" He purred, rubbing his face against her tender palms. La Muerte rolled her eyes but nodded regardless, taking his face and peppering it with little kisses.

"Thank you so much, Balby. You really have shown you love me," Xibalba smiled and handed her a lantern. "I do love you and I will continue to show you I love you for the rest of my afterlife. Although, perhaps not like this. Wind direction can be an unpredictable factor."

She snorted and punched him in the arm for ruining the mood but expected no less from him. They both poised their lanterns for ascension and let them go, watching as the twin paper creations were carried by the wind upwards, their hands now no longer occupied with nothing else but each others.