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Isolation.
That is all she's known for the past decade, and even before then, it had haunted her. She should be used to it by now, it should be familiar and warm, but it is anything but. In the Palace, before her agreement, when she shared the halls with her family. When Lucifer plagued the halls like a forlorn spirit in search of its guiding light, when she was forced to take Charlie away. Back then, it was stifling, suffocating, but nothing in comparison to what she currently faced.
Locked away in Heaven, with one singular image, one view. For years, she racked her brain for a better compromise, a better solution, a better deal. Regret, a bitter taste in her mouth, soured what should have been bliss in paradise. Where the sun shined softly against her skin, a pleasant greeting with the gentle sound of waves to accompany her, that was her music. For years.
It never changed, never wavered, never a dark cloud in the sky. Never a rainy day. Just sunshine and ocean. All alone. Forever. Was this worth it?
She thinks about the life of her child, her husband, and she has an immediate answer. Yes. If she had to suffer in silence, then so be it. She thinks about the milestones she's missing in Charlie's life, thinks about the meals she knows Lucifer is skipping, the time that flies past his head. She thinks about the first night they welcomed Charlie into the world, and the first time Lucifer uttered the words I love you.
It isn't much, but it keeps her sane. When there is nothing but endless miles of sand, when there is only the company of her thoughts, when other souls become foreign concepts, it is all she has. The memories keep her mind occupied, as does her thoughts, which never seem to end. Ever so flowing, enraptured with grief and longing, twisted with malice and hate.
Hate.
Hate for Heaven, for this paradise, for this beach. This view. She gave up searching for signs of exit, gave up the hope for something more, resigned herself to the nothingness before her. Just a lone beach, her only friends the chair she conjured and the sunning fan she held.
But then, came Lute. Threatening her, instructing her to thwart her very own child, acting as if she had any authority over Lilith. The glare could be felt even from behind her shades, fatal and sharp, but still the angel stood her ground. Their deal was done.
⛧°。 ⋆༺♱༻⋆。 °⛧
The heat that surrounded her, the scent of brimstone and sulfur, the musk of dried blood. It all welcomed her, rushing to greet her from the portal she stepped out of. Lilith had her orders, but she cared little for obeying such laughable authority. Instead, her mind was focused, set. She had one mission and one mission only, one goal, one wish.
To find her loves.
And so, set off, she went. Head held high despite the time spent away, posture impeccable and poised, she walked with grace. Gliding up the Palace steps, her heels made soft clicks against the stone. As if sensing their Queen's return, the doors would usher her inside, opening wide to reveal the inside she knew and loved. The grandiose hallways and many rooms, the gilded Palace as golden and shimmering as she remembered. Like a time capsule frozen in place.
Lilith feels her chest tighten, feels the way her body tenses, the way her pulse races. Home. She's home.
The flowers inside the vases wilt, needing to be replaced, but it is a sign of life. A sign that someone was there, her someone. She desperately hopes she'll see him turning the corner, desperately prays that he will manifest beside her someway. Lilith's heart breaks open beneath her sternum, fragmented and crumpled as if butchered.
But there is no one.
She searches the hallways, walks up and down them, eyes flickering every which way. Taking in details she's missed, details she's forgotten and ones remembered. She opens every door, checks every room, throws open every closet. It's emptier than she recalls, and fear stabs her through, icy and cold. She doubles her efforts, searching high and low, taking to the stairs. One-- no two, no three at a time.
What horrifies her the most is finding Charlie's room; vacant. Her belongings gone, as if she left home, packed up most of her sentimentals. Of course, there was still a spot for her here, that was evident. But it was no longer home to her little girl. Why? What took her away?
As much as she looks, she finds no clues. Only pieces, memories, valuables that Charlie had long outgrown. Tears threaten her eyes, springing forth unwelcomed, and she sniffles. But, despite her many wishes, Lilith cannot afford to break down here. Not now, not yet. There is plenty she does not know, even more assumptions clouding her right mind.
And she still hasn't found Lucifer.
She moves on.
Drifting, like a phantom, she finds the bedroom. Their bedroom.
She goes inside. Lilith doesn't find anyone there, but the reminder of all the things she's left behind hits her. The pictures, the memories, the emotions. They all rush to the surface and threaten to undo her. She cannot help the way her chest aches, as if ribs were snatched from her very person. As if bones were broken by an unforgiving heel. It's with a shattered sigh, she stills. Finding her alone once more.
Alone yet again.
Alone.
Her breathing comes in sharp, fast, each huff shorter than the last. Breathing, she's not breathing, she's hyperventilating. Sucking in air as if she could never get enough, hands come up to hold herself, clutched tightly to her center.
This wasn't how this was supposed to go.
This wasn't how things were meant to be.
She shouldn't be alone. She shouldn't.
Air. Air, she needs fucking air.
Quickly, she moves towards the window. Undoing the latches and throwing it open, the hellish air hits her like a brick, startling her system. Despite its abrasive nature, it's grounding. Healing. And things finally start to mend itself, slowly, she regains her composure. Slowly, she comes back into herself. Once more, she is Lilith.
Resilient, clever, independent Lilith. Queen Lilith, Mother Lilith.
The mask she dawns is one she's worn for a long time, and yet she yearns to put it down.
Something catches her eyes right then, something white. Curiously, she blinks, refocusing her attention towards the Garden. Her Gardens. And oh–
Wrecked. It was utterly, savagely, wrecked.
Flowers uprooted, petals scattered, bushes half bulldozed down, trees broken. The entirety of it all laid in disarray. Her hell-lilies, her morning glories, all of it. Everything. At first, sadness courses through her like a tsunami crashing into shore. Shaking her from the very foundation up, rattling her system. And then came the rage.
She frowned, hands clutching the windowsill tightly, feeling the way her anger infected her very being. The way it slipped into her every pore and snaked around her resolve. Lilith's feet began to lift as her power encompassed her being, bringing her up into the air. She descended into the Gardens like a curse.
As her feet come to touch the ground, heels clacking against stone once more, she finds that patch of white yet again. And immediately, her anger leaves her.
There in the Gardens, what she finds is not an intruder nor a servant, it's not a friend of the family or any of the sins. She finds him, Lucifer, picking up the pieces of destroyed roses and battered lilies. And Lilith freezes, her breath stopping inside her lungs, hitching.
And for a moment, all she can do is stare.
“Lily?”
As he toils, hands covered in dirt and grime, basking in the ruins of the Garden is how she found him. Silent and vengeful, reduced to simmering rage and grimacing sadness, as emotions coil and splash over the rim of the cup holding them aloft. She finds him in the mess of the flowers and bushes, finds him in the shattered cobblestone and limestone, the brimstone piercing the air. She finds him, in that white blouse with those rolled up sleeves, fire flickering with bristling venom. She finds him.
She finds him.
But it occurs to her then, in the sea of a massacre, the why behind it all. Why was Lucifer so enraged? Why was their Garden, a token of their bond and love, ruined by none other than his hands? Why decimate their love story, their tale, their beginning? Why?
She looked in his eyes for the answer, for something, anything. Desperate to speak yet unable to, the emotions warring inside her too great to undo. To work around, to overcome. Lilith stands there only hearing the blood roar past her ears, the stillness of the gardens like a blanket cementing this moment. Their moment. She can't shiver or shudder, not a single molecule of her being could move in the moment.
His eyes tell stories of longing, of want and of abandonment, of yearning and absence. How she hated it. The pain there, mirrored from her own for her very own differing reasons, the hatred. The agony that fought behind those golden and crimson hues, that plagued him like an illness. That dared to harm him, her love, her Lucifer.
She wants to reach out, wants desperately to envelope him in a hug, but she is uncertain. Is there a lover waiting for her? Or, was she once again, too late?
She cannot know. There is no way of knowing, but thinking her place beside him had shriveled and died in all of her time away frightens her. Wounds her. Like a sharp knife embedded into her chest, piercing her lungs over and over, stealing her breath. There's nothing she could do, if such was the case.
He is drowning, that she can recognize, and that she cannot stand. He is drowning inside himself, like all the times in the past, just as she remembers before her last night with him. Before she left, before it all came crashing down, before, before, before.
How she curses at herself for ever agreeing to something so stupid, so swift. But, it was for the greater good. For her people, their people, to protect them all. More importantly, to protect her little girl, their one and only, theirs.
Lilith hears his voice and once more, she is stabbed. This time, right inside her heart. The blade wiggles and turns and twists, making a gory mess out of what once was whole. She opens her mouth to speak, to say something, anything, but silence stretches between them still. She fumbles, for the first time in eons, her steps faltering. Staggering.
One foot forwards, then another, and once that damn is broken--- it shatters entirely. Completely.
She rushes right then, towards him, with a purpose-- a quickness. Standing before him, towering over him, her eyes swimming with glistening tears. He was here, right here, within reach. She could touch him, she could shower him in kisses and hugs, she could hold him, his being or his hand, she could---
But would he even want that? Want her?
The thought slices her in two. Trepidation filling her soul with equal measures of despair. Selfishly, she fights against those thoughts. Tells herself there's no one else for him but her, that no one could complete him in the ways she could. That she was being silly, that being insecure was outrageous.
But was it so foreign?
She's never felt more belittled, never felt more unsure, unconfident. But her heart is stronger than her mind. Stronger than her anxieties, because for seven long years, this is what she craved. This is what she dreamt of, hoped for, needed.
And she would be even more loathed to let it slip through her fingers ever again.
Her gloved hand comes up, finally, after remembering the solitude she underwent. The nerves make her fingers shake as they reach forwards, towards the rosy cheeks she remembers kissing and pinching fondly. She can remember all the times a sweet blush would overtake them, burying the rosy marks. Oh, what she can remember...
But here and now, she longs to prove to herself that this is real. That he is real. And that there is no more distance to separate them, to come between them. That they are once more united, together, side by side. Lilith's fingers brush, gently, feather light against his skin. Tracing the circles until her digits find his jaw, the very same she's kissed bruises under, littered with smudges of black lipstick. She cups it, tilting his head upwards, leaning down.
Breathing him in, his familiar scent, his cologne. If the world went dark and she lost her sight, she could recognize him like this alone. Through touch, through smell, by her hearing. The way he takes in a breath, the sound of his laughter, the weight of his stare. Nothing would take this moment away from her. Nothing would rob her of this reunion. Or else, hell hath quite the fury to pay.
"Lucifer...," she calls. Sweet and soft, tender and meek, a whisper only for his ears. Her thumb rubs soothingly against his jaw, returning to his cheek, merely grounding him. Them. "My little snake."
She doesn't dare close her eyes, doesn't dare blink, afraid that anything could separate them. Perhaps, for even longer this time. But still, it was a risk she wasn't willing to take. Her gaze boars right into his own, holding his gaze, her own melancholic yet ecstatic.
Happy to see him, happy to have, to hold, and to feel. Happy to be. Within his arms, his presence, his sight. All of it. Lilith takes in another shaky breath, lips parting in a sigh.
The flame inside her heart threatens to burn her alive.
"I'm home," she says simply. Wanting to lay her forehead against his own, but resisting. Wanting to respect his space, his needs. How she wanted so much, but held herself back. Not wanting to crowd, to force anything. Even so, her selfish desires play tricks on her mind, telling her she deserves it. Earned it. That her sacrifice and isolation meant more than anything.
Her sacrifice that no one had asked her for.
She ignores it, too focused on Lucifer, on her own waring mind.
"I love you," she whispers. A tear finally welling up past her best efforts, trickling down her face to wet the crumpled flowers below.
“I….,” He croaks. “I…I missed you. Welcome home, my radiant lady. Welcome home, I’ve been…. We’ve been waiting for you..”
Encased in both hair and wings, Lilith finds their own sanctuary. The very same that is home, safe inside his reach, his arms. Somewhere where no one could harm her, for her comfort was her love, wrapped up tight inside white and crimson feathers. Lucifer's touch, the first in eight years, is a shock through her system. Pleasant as much as it was overwhelming. She bristles, relaxes, and startles again when she thinks about ever going without this again.
How could she go without him? She isn't even sure she survived in all her time away. That a piece of her died somewhere along that beach without him, without her daughter, without them both. She feels as though a part of her transformed, morphed, into something unrecognizable. Someone unrecognizable.
As his hands cup her own, she cannot help the subtle gasp that leaves her. This truly is happening, it truly is real, she has him once more. Once again. Lucifer, her husband, her greatest supporter and closest friend. Her other half, the air that breathes life into her lungs, her angel. Once the tears start, they do not stop. More spilling over her waterline, dripping down her face despite the way his thumbs brush them aside.
She weeps, just as she had in the garden when they first met. Crying into his embrace, into him, as their foreheads come together. Connecting them in every way they can be, for the time being. He does not speak the same words that she had, but he doesn't need to. She can feel it in his touch, his warmth, see it in his eyes, just as she can see the years worth of pain she's left. The barbs and thorns that pierced his heart, leaving it scarred and stunted.
She watches as he closes his eyes and breathes, when those gorgeous rubies open once more to land on her. As if in a dream, and she understands. Knows the feelings coursing through them both are one in the same, if with slight differences.
"How much I've longed for you, my love." Lilith tells him in return, feeling the way his fingers squeeze hers in turn. Hers do the same, mimicking the motion, pouring every ounce of love into the gesture that she could.
As his hands encircle her, Lilith's own wrap around him. Around his shoulders, pulling him to her, face buried into her chest. Hands go into his hair, toying with the blond strands, scratching against his scalp in ways she's done before. Back then, when he lay awake in bed unable to sleep, and she sang to him all through the night, hands in blond tresses. Massaging and untangling, coaxing his eyes to close.
She remembers times Charlie would yank and tug at both their hairs, an infant too young to understand gentleness. The faces he would make, pleading to her for help, while Charlie clung on. Lilith laughs, a wobbly, sad little sound.
“Where did you go…? Why did you go? I thought that you…had been killed. I thought I lost you forever.”
"I'm so sorry to leave you with such thoughts.." She murmured. Having prepared endlessly for this moment, yet still feeling put on the spot. There would never be an easy way to say this, never be an easier way to tell him.
That she went behind his back, the way he went behind hers, making a deal that would change the course of their history forever more.
"I was in Heaven." She starts, ripping the bandaid right off. Voice a delicate thing, the truth as fragile as their current hearts. "In order to keep you and Charlie safe, in order to protect the hellborn, I was asked to remain in Heaven. So long as I stayed, no harm would come to you or to others."
A sniffle, feeling the pain radiating from him as if it were her very own. Lilith's soul cries out for mercy, for forgiveness, for understanding. Even if she doesn't deserve it, even if she does, the situation is more convoluted than anyone could imagine.
Both rulers trying to do right by their kingdom, both battling their own inner turmoil. Both a slave to their fixations. Forgetting what made them strong in the first place, their love, their passion. Their companionship.
"Every moment of every day I thought of you." She adds, nuzzling against him. "Of returning to you. I never wanted to be away for as long as I was. I never wanted to harm you like this. Or Charlie. I know my words are just that, words, but trust I had every intention of saving you both. Of getting Heaven off of your back, to give Charlie a chance to grow up without knowing the terrors and dangers of up above."
And yet, despite her best efforts, based on what Lute informed her. She had failed. Everything she had strived for, everything that she had set out to do, to accomplish, was all for naught. Instead, all she had to show for it? Was nothing.
"I know I have failed, and I know Charlie has become a woman of her own." A breath, shaky and unbalanced. "She's given Heaven quite the scare, from me to you."