Work Text:
The heat of the fire licked at her palms as she stood and waited. She was restless, half hoping and half dreading, but there was nothing to do now, but wait. The ritual had either worked, or it hadn’t.
The summoning circle lay behind her, white ash describing an intricate design of points and curves and curlicues that culminated in a small pentagram in the centre. Guarding the circle were eight tallow candles, each containing the delicately shredded petals of red roses. The air sang gently with their scent, and with the coppery tang of blood. Vital red things to call the Mother, to entice her.
Zelda crossed her arms over her chest, hugging herself against the chill of the midnight air. Despite it being midsummer, the small hut she occupied as a young, unmarried witch was draughty, leaking heat through its cracks and imperfections.
She had been planning this for years, ever since her childhood obsession with Lilith blossomed into intense curiosity during her teen years. It started as a wondering that grew into yearning, a desire to pledge herself, body and soul, to the Mother of Demons. Worshipping Satan was expected of her, but she had never managed to muster up the devotion for their Dark Lord that she did for the First Witch.
A long creak rent the air, sucking the breath from Zelda’s lungs. She turned toward the door, anticipation and fear turning her muscles to liquid, scarcely daring to look.
In the doorway stood a woman of regal bearing, with prominent cheekbones, expressive eyes, and cascading waves of warm-dark hair. Her body was encased in a sleek red-and-black gown that revealed every curve, designed to trap wandering eyes like flies in honey. Zelda dropped to her knees and bowed her head, clasping her trembling hands in her lap.
“Lady Lilith, I am your humble servant.”
There came a quiet susurration, as of fine cloth brushing over floorboards. Zelda was seized by a sudden fear that the unsealed wood would catch and tear the woman’s beautiful gown. She kept her eyes trained on the floor, showing her devotion the only way she could in this moment; by bearing the prickling of splinters in the skin of her knees and palms and exposing the white crescent of the nape of her neck. That beautiful fabric gathered in folds before her eyes, and before she could quite register what was happening, two fingers slid beneath her chin. The warm, textured caress made her breath catch and she dared not look up, though she ached to gaze upon the beautiful, wicked face of her chosen god.
A pause. Then the fingers pressed into the soft flesh behind the cradle of her chin, and Zelda gasped at the rush of pleasure that spread through her as she obeyed the silent command. Her eyes swam with tears, pure emotion, and all she could see was her: Lilith. Ice and porcelain and mahogany, tilted gently to one side, considering. Appraising.
“Dear girl, I don’t think you’ve ever been a humble anything,” she murmured, eyes tracing the planes and curves of Zelda’s unadorned face.
Zelda swallowed, keeping herself still on the balance-point of the fingers under her jaw, allowing her own gaze to rove over Lilith’s face, drinking in her angular, striking beauty. She didn’t quite know what to say in reply, so she simply looked her fill. I could never look my fill of this face, truly.
The fingers dropped away. “Why have you so sweetly called me here? Am I to understand, by the roses in your candles, that you are offering yourself to me?”
Nerves and desire coalesced in Zelda, and for a heartbeat she was grateful to be so close to the ground as vertigo sent her head spinning. This was a moment she had been working towards for years and it was almost overwhelming to find herself in it at last.
Lifting her chin and meeting Lilith’s eyes, Zelda nodded firmly. “I am.”
A smirk so devilish as to almost be cruel drew itself across the First Witch’s lips. “Well, then. Let’s begin shall we?”
She wasted no time in lunging for the young woman before her.
Zelda sucked in a bright, sharp breath, startled by Lilith’s speed, but found herself going limp and liquid in her grasp. Her hair wound its way between Lilith’s fingers, silken strands gathered and tugged backward, baring the long white column of her throat for the ravenous mouth of the Mother of Demons.
Everywhere her hands met skin, heat rose to the surface, as though Zelda’s very blood was responding to her chosen deity, drawn to her touch as though magnetised. Her lips and tongue danced delicious bruises across throat and collar bones, and the little stings of hurt only enhanced the pleasure of having a ravenous Lilith indulging in the delights of her untouched skin.
“This floor is wretched,” Lilith pulled back, scowling at the rough boards, and Zelda, overcome with emotion, let out an uncharacteristic snort of laughter. Her hand immediately flew to her mouth, eyes wide with horror that she had laughed at the First Witch.
Amusement sparkled in the corners of Lilith’s lips and eyes, and Zelda let out the breath she had been holding. “I do have a bed we could use.”
Lilith rose gracefully to her feet, pulling Zelda up after her.
Zelda kept hold of Lilith’s hand and led her through the dim light to the bedroom. It was small and plain, and Zelda fought not to allow shame to overcome her. She couldn’t offer opulent surroundings to the First Witch, she could only offer herself. She hoped that would be sufficient.
When she turned to see what Lilith thought of the room, she discovered that her eyes hadn’t left her. A thrill raced down her spine at being the focus of such intense attention. Lilith closed the distance between them, splaying one hand against the side of her face, framing her jaw and cheekbones.
“Is this truly what you want, Zelda?”
Zelda swallowed heavily, lost in the blue of her eyes, and shifted slightly. She ached with need for the woman before her, her body heavy and slow with desire. She leaned into the hand that cupped her face, and nodded slowly, the movement turning into a nuzzling ‘yes,’ that flowed into licks and nips and kisses of her palm. Lilith’s eyes grew warm and she dragged her hand away, just long enough to draw a lingering touch down Zelda’s sternum, between her breasts, before her hand spread and pressed flat against her lower abdomen, gently pushing. Zelda allowed the hand to guide her backwards, eyes locked on Lilith’s, trusting. The backs of her legs hit the bed and she hesitated, waiting for guidance. Lilith seemed to sense her uncertainty, and directed her to sit, before kneeling.
“The floorboards-” Zelda’s protest was cut short when Lilith pressed a hungry, open-mouthed kiss against the inside of her thigh, just above her knee. “Oh,” she murmured, hushed.
Lilith’s eyes glittered wickedly in the dim light of the candles, and Zelda relaxed, letting herself be repositioned, back against the bedclothes, with Lilith lazily kissing her way up the inside of her thighs. She interspersed little nips here and there, amusing herself with the way Zelda’s hand tightened in hers every time, surprised.
Just as she reached the apex of Zelda’s thighs, Lilith stalked up over her on all fours, panther-like in her grace, and resumed her previous preoccupation with her neck and chest. Zelda huffed and whined slightly, arching up off the bed to plaster her body against Lilith’s, desperate for contact and friction. Lilith nuzzled her way up Zelda’s neck and watched her face as she pressed two fingers against her damp core. Zelda’s lungs inflated as she gasped involuntarily, her back arching off the bed to press harder against the fingers.
Lilith rapidly divested her of her underclothes and her long, virgin-white nightgown, dragging the material along her body with teasing, tickling slowness. Zelda clenched her hands into fists to prevent herself from reaching out to Lilith. She wanted to feel that glorious mane of hair in her hands, taste her lips, her skin, feel her fully and completely. But that was not how this worked. Lilith dictated what happened and how, and it was not the supplicant’s place to indulge in touching the First Witch. Not unless directed to.
Lilith returned again to her ministrations, fingers finding their home back at Zelda’s entrance. She gently parted her slippery folds, stroking inside with the tip of one finger. Zelda sucked in a sharp breath, pressing her head back into the bed in her effort to remain still. The finger ventured deeper, curling into plush heat, as she kissed her way down Zelda’s body. A couple of gentle thrusts and a second finger joined the first, working in beside it and leaving Zelda feeling stretched and breathless. Lilith’s breath ghosted hotly across Zelda’s lower stomach and she shivered with anticipation as the fingers began slowly working their way out and back in, curling and pressing against something that sent Zelda’s eyes rolling back. Lilith pressed her tongue against her clit, hard and sudden, and Zelda found herself bending backwards, her breath coming in short bursts as the fingers thrust with greater purpose and the tongue rolled over her clit with growing intensity.
In the moment she came, Lilith pulled her fingers free and gripped both of Zelda’s hands in hers, licking deeply into her and drinking of the magic that poured out of her, into Lilith, and back into Zelda through their connected palms. Completing the circuit.
She was Lilith’s now.
Breath huffed from her lungs and she reached out blindly, desperate to feel Lilith against her, overwhelmed and full of adoration for her beautiful chosen deity. Lilith obligingly laid down beside her, and allowed the young witch to nestle against her, nuzzling into the crook of her neck with overflowing affection. Her arm came up around Zelda, pressing her closer, and she turned her head to rest her lips against the golden crown of her head. “Mine,” she murmured.
“All yours, Lady Lilith,” Zelda agreed sleepily.
Unseen by the drowsing redhead, Lilith’s mouth curled into a wicked, knowing grin.