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Chapter Text

Madam Spellman Fictober Challenge, week 2.

1- Change of Heart

Zelda paced around the bed once again, her steps echoing through the empty room and keeping her company. She could almost hear her sister’s voice telling her to just relax because she would wear out the carpet, and after all, there was nothing to be worried about, that it was normal to feel that way. Zelda wasn’t convinced. There was nothing normal about that: she’d always been a confident woman, knowing what she wanted and how to achieve her goals. She never hesitated, because what was the point? But there she was, feeling unquiet, her head unable to decide whether she was right to pursue her intentions or drawback. The answer seemed a simple one: she was a Spellman, after all, so she shouldn’t have even thought about back away, and yet there was a small voice in her head that kept telling her to do just so.

She needed answers, but for the first time ever, perhaps, she couldn’t find those within her alone. She needed a guide. Someone who could understand her fully.

Zelda swallowed, flung her robe behind so it wouldn’t stand in her way, and knelt by the foot of her bed. First, she joined her hands and then rotated her wrist, pointing at the floor with her fingers. She scanned through her memories, picked the ancient prayer her mother had taught her and her siblings when they were young, the same father had tried to beat out of them with the cat-o’nine-tails and closed her eyes. The mere thought of reciting it sent a chill of sweet revenge down her spine, and she felt rebellious and powerful all at once, just like when she was a girl.

Zelda took a small breath and focused, hoping her silent call would be answered and result in a sign of any type.

Hail Lilith, full of disgrace,

Cursed are you amongst women.

And cursed is the fruit of thy womb, demons.

You fled the garden,

Where the weak ones dwelled

And did not live in shame.

Unholy Lilith--

Zelda blinked her eyes open when she felt a shift of air behind her. It was strange. All those times she’d prayed to Lucifer, he would never answer, and if he did, he would send her little hints and nothing more… Zelda couldn’t see how and why praying to another of his legions would be any different.

«You came.» She dared ask, but her voice was barely a whisper. As an immediate reply, she saw an orange glow coming from her back, bathing the whole room into a warm halo that smelled of ashes.

«Of course I came, Zelda.» the feminine voice answered. The witch was expecting a maiden, just like the portraits would show Lilith, but that didn’t sound like the voice of a girl, but rather of a mature woman, confident and husky, in a way Zelda couldn’t exactly define; also, it sounded strangely familiar. «You’re the most devout of my children.»

At the remark, the witch felt a chill crawling up her spine. Should she differ? Claiming her devotion for the one, true Master? Maybe Lilith had come to test her, see if her loyalty was sincere.

«I’m devout to my Dark Lord, Satan.» Zelda answered, almost automatically. It surprised her how her sentence had sounded fake to her very own ears.

There was a diverted chuckle rising behind her.

«Keep repeating that, it might become true,» sensing the mockery, Zelda clenched her jaw and tried to turn, ready to face Lilith, but as soon as she tilted her head, warm hands clasped her shoulders hard, «ah-ah,» Lilith admonished, «you’re not allowed to turn around.»

There was a sweet scent in the air though that the witch wasn’t expecting. Zelda swallowed the lump in her throat. She knew that voice from somewhere and quite frankly she’d been yearning to lay eyes on Lilith’s mysterious face now. Apparently, Satan’s mistress wouldn’t grant the privilege tonight.

«So,» Lilith continued, «why did you plead for me, Zelda?»

«I-» The witch mumbled, struggling to breathe normally. «I’m to be wedded in two days to the High Priest, Faustus Blackwood.»

«Ah, yes.» The demoness commented with a snarl. «Go on.»

Zelda knew she should’ve felt hurt or at least irritated by such a reaction, but the truth was, she didn’t feel anything.

«I find myself… questioning.» She whispered, trying to choose the right words to express herself without being mistaken. «About going through with the wedding. You see, I don’t know if I should-»

«Is it because of the night before?» Lilith interrupted. «Most brides are afraid of that. And they should be, trust me, I know.» She sighed sharply. Zelda’s heart constricted at the thought. «But I’m sure that I can ask Lucifer to send me to visit you in His stead if that’s why you called.»

«No-» Zelda frowned, utterly confused. Although the offer seemed awfully intriguing, the reason why she called was different. «No, that’s not why.»

«Such a shame.» Lilith commented, clicking her tongue. «You were saying?»

«I don’t love Faustus.» She blurted out, and after saying those words, she felt lighter. It wasn’t the first time saying that she’d told Hilda right after he proposed, but somehow naming the reason for her doubts in front of Lilith, made it all look like an infernal confession. And she was not doing that in front of a Priest, not even in front of the Antipope, but in front of Lilith, the she-Satan herself. Zelda couldn’t be more exposed, nor put in front of the highest judge. «But I didn’t accept his proposal for love in the first place.»

There was a pause. Zelda tried to peek with the corner of her eye, but of course, Lilith knew that and dug some of her nails in the tender flesh of her neck. The witch didn’t let out a single lament. As a sort of reward, the grip loosened, leaving Zelda wondering whether her skin had been actually cut.

«Why did you accept, then?» Lilith asked, but her voice sounded bored as if she already knew the answer to her question.

«For power.» She replied, managing to sound proud and convinced. «By his side, I will be able to guide him and support him. As the wife of a High Priest, I would be granted influence, and-»

«Poor Zelda.»

«What-» The witch froze. Without having finished, Lilith was partially already giving her the answer she sought for. Her whole body tensed when she felt one of her hands moving, snaking up her neck, fingers wrapping around her throat without squeezing. Zelda felt trapped, at her mercy, because she could’ve snapped her neck with the slightest of pressure.

«What makes you so faithful in men?» She inquired, her voice reduced to a disgusted growl.

Zelda frowned and slowly shook her head. The demoness’ hold, however, stopped her quickly. She didn’t understand: wasn’t Lilith the most loyal of all? Weren’t witches supposed to follow her example?

«You knelt before Him.» Zelda pointed out, her voice coming in a wheeze.

The demoness let out a bittersweet chuckle. «Don’t be your own undoing.»

«I don’t understand-»

«Oh, but you do.» Lilith continued, relentlessly, stern now. «You want to become High Priestess just like I want the crown I was promised.» Zelda listened and tried to regulate her breathing despite the hand around her throat, which fingers were subtly moving upwards, thumb resting behind her ear, eliciting uncalled shivers on her skin. «He’ll never treat you as his equal, Zelda. If you seek power, marrying Faustus is not the way.» And then she wasn’t holding her neck anymore, her hand was merely brushing against her skin. «You’ve got the answer you were looking for?»

Zelda only dared to nod slowly. That was exactly what she needed: marrying for power and not for love didn’t make her feel guilty - that rubbish was for mortals - but still, she knew that this wasn’t the way to obtain what she really wanted. And Lilith, who had bowed to a man long before her, had given her verdict.

«What should I do, then, Mistress?» She asked, her heart losing a beat. Addressing her like that felt almost blasphemous, yet how else would she have to call her? Lilith felt oddly private and unrespectful.

She heard the demoness sighing behind her. If she were to swear something, Zelda would say that Lilith was smiling in delight.

«We don’t need men, Zelda.» She whispered, slowly, as she was chiseling the words into her very soul. «You are powerful on your own, you can achieve everything, do not compromise with those beneath you.»

«You want to dethrone the Dark Lord?» Zelda said, whispering as if He might hear them complotting. Was it really happening? They were really talking about a matriarchy? It had been her dream for centuries.

«If you, Zelda, and your coven, are ready to fight.» Her voice was warm into her ear, her fingers dangerous, tangled between her hair.

«You’ll be Queen of Hell?»

«And you, my High Priestess.» The demoness confirmed.

Zelda swallowed. Lilith was possessive, and she was showing it both physically and verbally. She had to admit that if it were a man, saying those things, the witch would be fuming… Lilith, on the other hand, had managed to make it sound almost enticing. Zelda couldn’t help but feel attracted. 

«The Church... of Lilith?»

The demoness heaved a wet sigh. She’d been pushed back, deceived, and used for millennials and that was her chance to prevail. Zelda wondered how much she had been suffering, from where she drew the energy to still live, fight, rebel against her own Master. A lifetime of enslavement was what waited for her if she decided to marry Faustus. Lilith was saving her from a destiny of misery similar to her own.

«I’ll lift you up, Zelda Spellman, like no man, would ever do.» Lilith promised, and her hand slid up again, to the point where the demoness was almost cupping her chin from behind. «If you swear your loyalty to me.»

Zelda swallowed through a now dry throat. When she’d first decided to pray to Lilith, she was looking for advice, not to make a life-changing choice, a decision so important, actually, that could transform everything. But what could she do, honestly? Allow Faustus to go through with his misogynist plans and reforms in hope that one day she would be heard, or putting hers and the coven’s existence in Lilith’s hands and try to build a new future for them all?

«I swear it.» Zelda proclaimed, the weight of those words dissipating in the air. It had been like signing the Book of the Beast: a vow, a signature, a mere symbol that meant everything.

«Close your eyes, Zelda.» Lilith finally whispered. «Don’t you dare peek: it is not the time yet.» The woman knew what was going to happen: those kinds of promises, of deals, weren’t signed in blood. She obeyed, closed her eyes, and tilted her head up under Lilith’s gentle guide.

When they sealed the pact with the kiss, Zelda felt her head spinning in circles. The scent of Jasmine irradiating from the demoness skin was almost inebriating. She knew that scent from somewhere, just like her voice. Those lips were soft, inviting, and her brain blanked. She indulged the demoness, tasting all the fires of Hell on her tongue, as much as she tasted the faint aroma of apple cider and the brightness of the sky. She felt relentless and seraphic at the same time. Was that what it felt like, to taste one of the False God’s creations who had paced both earthly and infernal grounds?

When Lilith drew away, Zelda had to battle herself not to open her eyes and stay true to her promise. The demoness’ hand left her throat, she backed away, but remained there: it was as if Zelda could sense her very presence. The witch forced herself to breathe and without even noticing it, her fingers went to brush against her own lips, tracing the echoes of their contact, almost mourning the loss. However crazy, she knew she was doing the right thing.

«What will I say to Faustus?» She frowned, not really concerned about hurting his feelings, of course, but neither to ruin his plans, nor disappoint him, or facing his possible revenge against her.

Lilith shrugged, even if Zelda couldn’t see her.

«Return the turtledove hearts tomorrow morning.» She said, simply. «Tell him you had a change of heart.» The orange glow returned. Zelda barely resisted telling her not to go just yet. «Leave the rest to me.»

Chapter Text

2 - Runaway bride

When she was first entrusted with the task of watching over Sabrina Spellman, the thought of occupying the body of the girl's favorite teacher sounded like the perfect plan. Lilith had loathed the responsibilities, of course - the lessons, the long shifts in a school full of mortal teens whose smells were a constant temptation to her insatiable hunger for uncorrupted male flesh - but she adapted quite well since the place reminded her almost painfully of the infernal Pandemonium and the paperwork resembled the demons contracts that she used to tend for Lucifer when he was too busy to care.

Life was decently quiet for her, but she was tired of serving. She couldn’t bear to obey anymore, not when the promises would be broken, not when the Dark Lord wanted to repay her so shortly after the millennia of servicing, abuses, mockeries, not after she’d given everything to him, cured him, comforted him, birthed monsters for him, even loved him. For a moment, Lilith wondered if she truly knew the meaning of that word since everyone who had claimed to love her, in the end, never did: her father and creator banned from the Garden; her first husband cared only for her body, too engrossed in obeying superior commands of starting a herd of human sheep bound to worship their creator; the fallen angel deceived her and used her, and she, who didn’t know any better, let him do it. No more.

She’d been waiting patiently for all those centuries and, finally, she’d found the perfect ally: insufferable, disgustingly prideful, ambitious, unafraid, eager to rise above those who tried to tame her with vain promises. Zelda Spellman was exactly like her, in every possible way.

They’d sealed a pact Lilith knew the witch wouldn’t break: this should’ve been the day Zelda Spellman would become the High Priest’s wife, but they had changed the course of destiny two nights ago. The witch had returned the turtle doves, and the demoness had a little chat with Blackwood in his office a couple of minutes later, trying not to gloat too much into his rejected little face. She didn’t reveal her plan, of course, but she assured him things would change.

Indeed they would. Soon, very soon, Zelda and she would both obtain everything they wanted, and maybe something more. It was an unusual sensation, perhaps from both parties, but everything was going according to plan: the matriarch reign that all the witches deserved was truly about to happen and the men would get consigned to their places, to serve.

Nursing a glass of liquor in her hands, she was sitting by the fire, contemplating those moments of quietness before the incoming storm. Taking a small sip, she let the bourbon prick its way down her throat, and smiled curiously as she grazed her bottom lip with her pad, where Zelda’s taste still lingered, even after days, a pleasant reminder of their unbreakable pledge to one another. 

Lilith sighed, basking in the familiar heat of the fire lapping her exposed legs from underneath the robe, and even if she didn’t really need to sleep due to her demoniac nature, she’d grown accustomed to the comfort of laying in bed, even though wide awake, thinking about the future, which seemed brighter than ever, after the events of the past couple of days.

She gulped down the remnants of her liquor and left the glass and the bottle on the coffee table, not really seeing a reason to tidy up the place since she would likely have another drink in the morning, or in the evening after dinner, or in the night before going to bed, and let the fire die on its own.

As always, she left the window open and double-checked the door, making sure that the protecting glamour surrounding the whole cottage against evil forces was active and functioning, when something caught her eyes.

There was a distant light coming from the depth of the woods, which was simply weird. Those useless mortals didn’t warn about explosions in the mines, nor some controlled fire scheduled for that night, so Lilith got curious and dwelled, for an instant, whether she should or shouldn’t investigate. She had almost decided against it when, suddenly, she felt a grasp of fear squeezing her stomach. It was a weird feeling, and it was strong, almost overwhelming, so much in fact that the air got knocked out of her lungs and she was left gasping for air, fright spreading through her body like a plague.

It was a witch in danger. Lilith had always felt some connection with the other of her kind, being the first of them, but she’d never felt anything so strong before, so it was only logical to think that this wasn’t about some random witch, but about a witch she had a deeper connection with; Sabrina perhaps, or... Zelda .

The subtle prick on her lips startled her.

Lilith grabbed her coat, removed the glamour, and rushed outside.

In a swirl of fire, Lilith appeared behind a tree right next to a clearing. The source of light was closer and with a grimace she realized that those were warlocks with torches, yelling and shouting intelligible things. Despite being unable to understand what they were saying, the demoness imagined being anything nice.

She waited, her heart beating faster, when she finally saw a movement from the bushes in front of her and, after a while, she saw Zelda emerging from the fence of shrubs. Clearly panicked, the witch gasped and stumbled, falling on her knees, the ground scraping mercilessly her pale skin.

Lilith wondered why she was just wearing a slip, why her body was covered in small cuts, scratches, and bruises, but it all seemed so futile when there was a group of crazed men after her, hunting for her blood for whatever reason; so Lilith stepped out her hiding spot and rushed toward her, halting a few feet from Zelda, hands raised to indicate that she meant no harm.

The redhead witch instinctively backed away, squinting her eyes to let the silvery light of the moon define the face of her improbable savior.

«Ms. Wardwell?»

Ah, right. She didn’t know.
Zelda was still oblivious to her flesh suit in the form of Sabrina’s teacher, the banished witch who had allegedly been a secretary to her brother and ultimately had fallen smitten with him, the one who’d been entrusted with her niece’s safety, who provided her with books and spells and advice behind her back.

How ironic for Zelda to have sealed a pact with the demoness she’d looked up to all her life while the said demoness was inside the body of the woman who she probably despised more than anything on Earth.

Lilith had planned to unfold the truth about her identity soon enough, revealing her lies and the reason why she had to tell them, perhaps while revealing the face she was currently wearing - the same she’d only recently decided to stick to for a very long time, maybe even forever - but circumstances demanded otherwise. Still, this wasn’t the right time nor place.

«Come, quick.» She hurried, holding out her hand for the witch. She could see Zelda hesitating at first, but when a man yelled, initiating a chorus of insults, she finally gave in and grasped her hand.

She tried to remain unperturbed despite the situation was making her incredibly nervous, and deciding it would be better not to startle the witch further with a particularly allusive beaming, she drew a small sigh and focused her energies into the most common of traveling spells.

Lanuae magicae.

When they reappeared inside the cottage, Lilith struggled to find her balance when the witch leaned heavily on her. She heaved a little huff and helped Zelda sit down on the armchair, the closest to the fire, the same she’d previously occupied, and thought about offering her a drink because, in all honesty, she looked like she needed one. Perhaps later.

Collecting her thoughts, she hurried to the front door and restored the glamour, her gaze dwelling on the window where, outside, the torches were getting further and further away - one thing less to worry about, at least.

She gave Zelda her back, hands still leaning against the door as her magic vibrated under her fingertips and chimed distantly in her ears. She let it soothe her and tried to decide what she wanted to do first: she couldn’t simply blurt out the truth like that, so, firstly, she needed to know why she had to save Zelda from lynching.

«What happened?» She dared to ask, her voice barely above a wheeze. Despite that, however, it traveled well across the room, even above the crackling of the log nestled in the mantelpiece.

Zelda didn’t answer for a long while.

Sighing, the demoness turned around and decided to walk closer. On her way to take place on the vacant place on the twin armchair, she tugged the blanket off the couch and draped it over the witch’s shoulders without even asking, hoping that she could, at least, stop shivering - even if Lilith highly doubt it was only due to the cold.

«Thank you.» Zelda mumbled, gripping the fabric and pulling it around herself.

Lilith sat down and let her gaze dwell on the exposed part of her body: she didn’t mind the tousled hair, given the situation, nor the lack of makeup and the dirt smeared on one of her cheeks, but she frowned when she noticed the various scratches and bruises on her calves, getting angrier and redder on her feet, probably for having been forced to run barefoot in the forest.

Lilith was fretting to know what caused such outrage toward one of the most respectable members of the coven; a refined witch, the sister of the previous High Priest nonetheless, a teacher of the Academy, devout to the eyes of the others, to the Dark Lord. Could it be…?

There were times in which she deeply wished she had the same powers as the competitors, like omniscience, for instance.

«I’ll make some tea.» She announced, not even waiting for Zelda to answer before getting up to put the kettle on.

While she waited for it to whistle, she watched the witch staring into the flames, blinking slowly, deep in her thoughts. She wished she could just tell her the truth, begin their plan right away, given the circumstances, yet she needed to know more, and she needed to ask her, without tricks. After all, Zelda knew who she was: the demoness could still play her part for a while longer and talk about magic and their sickening reality for a while, getting her comfortable enough to gain her trust. Zelda was no fool, she would’ve understood her reasons once the truth would be revealed.

«Here,» she said meekly, placing the steaming cup between the witch’s hands, who accepted gratefully, but without the hint of a smile, «be careful, it’s hot.»

Silence.

«I guess I owe you an explanation.» The redhead finally whispered, her eyes glued to the sloshing liquid in the cup. «Sabrina always comes here to ask for help and advice, whenever she feels like she doesn’t have anyone in the world. Well-» Her breath hitched and she chuffed out a wet chuckle, «I have no one.»

Lilith remained silent. She knew she should’ve reassured her, and she knew exactly what she should’ve said if she intended to maintain her disguise, but she didn’t want to like so blatantly into her face.

«What was that about?» The brunette asked again, hoping that Zelda decided to talk, finally. «I’ve been alone myself for the majority of my life.» She said, not entirely sure if she was actually playing her part or telling the truth.

She kept watching when Zelda slowly lifted her head and stared at her.

«I know you studied with my brother,» She sighed, «I did too, but nonetheless I stayed faithful to our Dark Lord Satan for centuries. Who do you pledge yourself to, these days, Ms. Wardwell?» She asked grimly, lips tightly pressed together as she demanded to receive an answer; the challenging tone was prominent in the way she pronounced that name.

Lilith paused, running the tip of her tongue along the bottom lip for a moment.

«I don’t regret signing the Book of the Beast, back in my days,» she murmured, vaguely, «but as you might’ve guessed, I don’t share all His values.»

Zelda took a shaky breath and averted her eyes. Once again, she looked down in her cup, letting the steam lap her face with warm invisible tongues.

«I’ve embarked myself into something reckless.» The witch confessed at last, shoulders curved under a nonphysical weight. «I’m already doomed, so I don’t believe telling you it’s going to make a difference.»

It was painful to see Zelda so broken, so desperate, and even more painful thinking that she might’ve had something to do with it. It was clear, by now, that the ordeal was related to their pact, but how did they find out? How did Blackwood dare to disobey her orders, how could he not fear Lucifer’s wrath for overstepping His herald’s orders?

«I sealed a pact with the Mother of Demons.» Zelda declared. The tinge of pride in her voice didn’t go unnoticed. «We were meant to create a new reign, a matriarchy, with the First Witch on the throne and me as High Priestess to the new Church, but- Lucifer found out.»

Lilith swallowed and unconsciously clawed her armchair, so tightly that she felt the leather snap under her nails.

«Blackwood summoned Him, told the Dark Lord, and they-» Zelda shook her head, letting out a bittersweet chuckle. «If I was conspiring against Lucifer with His now-former lackey, I shouldn’t be surprised to know that He conspired against us with his own.»

The demoness clenched her jaw at those words: she hated being called the Dark Lord’s lackey, though it was far better than whore or concubine, yet she hated being compared to Blackwood more, though in everyone’s eyes they were the same. What hurt most, though, was knowing that Zelda had paid the price. They should’ve known better, she should’ve known better - protect her better, threaten Blackwood more.

But then, the hunger suddenly got paired with fear: if Blackwood knew about Zelda’s betrayal and was after her, why hadn’t the Dark Lord done the same yet?

Now more than ever, they needed to stay united, for self-perseverance foremost, but also because it could really be their occasion to prove that they could rise up and defeat those treacherous males claiming a power they didn’t know how to control, nor magnify, a power for which they weren’t worthy.

«You’re calling the thing off?» Lilith asked, biting the inside of her cheek when she realized that question was weird, coming from a witch who was supposed to know nothing about her life: not a question about her betrayal, not a surprised gasp upon hearing she had bargained with the Mother of Demons. That wasn’t Mary Wardwell talking, that was Lilith and she really didn’t care.

Zelda stared at her for a while, a subtle frown deepening on her forehead.

«The coven is after me. I’m a traitor, so they’re treating me like a traitor of the worst kind: not only I gave my word and recanted, but I shamed the High Priest and conspired against the Dark Lord.» She shifted the cup into one of her hands and drew the other to her face, hiding behind her palm. «I’m punished with the old rituals to a death sentence. There’s nothing to do, you- you just prolonged the inevitable.»

Lilith was familiar with the punishment. She had been the one entrusted with the lynching of runaway brides for centuries, considering them fools and ungrateful for fearing the Dark Lord’s right to claim the brides the night before the wedding. A lot had changed. She only felt compassion for them now, a sentiment she didn’t even know belonged to her.

And her heart ached to know that Zelda was receiving the same treatment, and maybe a greater punishment because of their pact. Was she really giving up?

Lilith only wished to lift her, not make her tumble down into disgrace. If Zelda lost her faith in her, then everything was lost.

«That is not true.» The demoness countered, clearing her throat. «There’s still a lot we- you can do.» She shifted to the edge of her seat, blue eyes boring into her, silently praying for her to keep some hope within. «You are not alone, Zelda.»

«But I am.» The other replied, peeling the hand off her face, her lips curving into a phantom of a smile. «Despite our pact, Lilith never came to my aid.»

The demoness drew in a sharp sigh. It hurt to realize that all things considered, Zelda had thought she was still fighting alone, that maybe, just the Dark Lord, Lilith had kept a barrier between the witches who walked on Earth and herself. She didn’t reveal her face, her touches had been scalding but mysterious, her propositions paternalistic, already of a queen addressing yet another subject. Lilith was the one to blame, it was her fault if Zelda had thought that their pact wouldn’t be an uneven relationship.

«Why didn’t you call for her?» She asked, almost angrily.

«What do you mean- of course I called for her!»

«You didn’t.» Lilith insisted, unfaltering. «She would’ve come.»

A pregnant silence fell upon them. The witch didn’t reply, confirming the demoness’ convictions. Lilith wondered if she should’ve just put her anger and vexation aside and start over: same pact, with different, more defined details.

Perhaps this was the perfect moment to uncover everything, perhaps this was the right moment to just tell her, and ask her to fight together for real, to gather all their forces and put their plans into action, perhaps this was the right moment to-

«Ms. Wardwell?»

«Yes?»

Lilith couldn’t do anything with the tone of her voice, working as a sweet siren call for her ears. No matter what happened, no matter what might happen, their pact was sealed and Zelda still lingered on her lips: whenever she called her, she was bound to answer.It was strange, however, how did that work with that foreign name, one that had nothing to do with her original form, nor current nature; the spell was bound to work as long as Zelda called for her, despite the epitome she chose to use, so that could only mean that-

«Could you kiss me?»

Lilith let out a shaky breath.

«What?» She asked, her face twisting into a shocked expression, her heart starting to beat twice as fast in her ribcage.

Zelda kept staring in her direction, an intense gaze from which the demoness couldn’t shy away.

«I asked if you could kiss me.» She repeated, her voice resolute. «Please.» She added then, softer this time. A plea, perhaps, something that Lilith, once again, could not refuse her.

The demoness stood up, and with a few strides, she closed the distance between them. She took the cup out of Zelda’s hand and blindly put it down on the coffee table, her eyes glued into the redhead’s.

Without saying a word, she took advantage of the current height difference and hovered above Zelda, both of her hands leaning against the arm of the chair she was sitting on, hair cascading over her shoulders, a dark curtain that shielded the light from the fireplace.

The demoness watched the witch swallow, then part her lips in anticipation when she purposely breathed against her mouth, blue eyes drifting on the pink swell of her lips.

When they kissed, it was a flooding of memories, a twizzle of energies melting together, a renewing of a pact that Lilith knew all too well and was realizing right now, it would’ve been impossible to either hide or ignore from the witch’s part as well. It wasn’t possessive this time, it wasn’t a matter of proving power anymore, it was asserting a partnership as equals, where both had to claim and relinquish the shared dominance.

«It is you.» Zelda murmured against her mouth. Not yet parted from one another, Lilith felt something melt within her at those words, completely lacking anger or fear. «All this time, and you never said anything. Why?»

Then, Zelda pulled away, but only to look into the demoness’ eyes and read something beyond them.

There were so many answers to give, so many other questions that Zelda was bound to ask… and Lilith didn’t know where to start. It was a first not feeling rejected, it was a first not being judged for her crimes or her sins.

Both traitors, liars, both loyal to the same cause, they stood in front of one another, finally bare for the first time.

It was scary, it was good, and now there was no going back. For real.

The demoness swallowed the lump in her throat and slowly pulled away herself, sinking to her knees to sit down on the carpet by Zelda’s feet. She placed a hand on her knee, delighting in how warm that pale skin felt under her palm.

«It’s a long story.» She whispered.

Zelda huddled tighter in her blanket, rested her head on one side of the paddled wing of the armchair, and hinted a smile.

«We have the whole night.»

While they talked, unbeknown to either of them, Stolas flew in from the open window and perched on the mantle, next to the clock, giving a purposely quiet croak that it was impossible to hear.
For its part, of course, the raven could, instead, hear everything.