Chapter Text
Samael was a small form, in one moment. And the next, the moment Lilith stepped out of the cave without the intent to return, he was everything.
He wove himself back into the fabric of creation, where he could experience everything.
Samael was everything.
He saw everything.
He felt everything.
But, above all else, he was terrified.
Lilith would return to him - she had to return to him. He had found- no. He had created a companion of her.
When this project burned, the only worthwhile part of it would be with him
…
Lilith spent a week with Adam and Eve, and she had no intention of leaving them for now. She mostly worked with Eve, teaching her almost everything that she knew. Or, at least, everything that Eve didn’t already know. She was created from Adam and held all of his memories up until her newly gained sentience. She knew how to do things like craft baskets and create earthenware. However, while her mind maintained the memories, her muscles did not. Her fingers were clumsy and she grew frustrated when her attempts to create did not pair up with memories that did not belong to her. That was where Lilith stepped in, offering soothing affirmations and small corrections. Eve was a quick study, though. Surely that was something else that she gained from Adam.
Lilith wondered, briefly, if Eve would adopt any traits from her the longer that they spent together.
“So… why are we weaving vines again?”
“To make a blanket.”
“Why?”
“Why not?”
“Don’t you worry it will make everything too warm? Eden’s not cold at night. Oh, speaking of cold, Gabriel stopped by the other week and-”
“The messenger?”
“Yes, that’s the one.” Eve nodded as she worked. “And he was so excited to tell us about these things called mountains. They’re kind of like what surrounds Eden, but more spread out, he said. And the tops of them? They’re covered in snow. ” She beamed, clearly enamored with the idea of the substance. “Apparently, snow is made up of billions and billions of tiny flakes - snowflakes! Isn’t that just the cutest name? And they can only survive in the cold. If they’re in the heat, Gabriel said that they’d melt and become water. Oh, I can just imagine it. He was able to show us a brief glimpse of what the snow looked like and it looked so soft and cozy. I’m sure you could fall back into it and not even hurt yourself. Oh, he also asked why I was talking weirdly. Well, he put it more like ‘Why is it that you are speaking in such a manner?’ and I didn’t really know what to tell him, but I was thinking about it and we really have started talking more casually than the angels now and I think that’s because we haven’t been talking to the angels as much. And I think that’s because there’s three of us now, so-” Eve stopped and cut herself off. She shook her head and offered a small, apologetic smile to Lilith. “Ah, I’m getting off-topic. Back on topic, Eden’s not cold so why a blanket?”
“Snow sounds lovely.” Lilith paused her work to watch Eve ramble, an amused smile pulled at Lilith’s lips. Eve always glowed with such joy whenever she spoke about new things - new discoveries and thoughts. “I was just thinking though… that it would be nice to wrap around yourself. It would be kind of like a portable hug if that makes any sense.”
“Oh!” Eve’s eyes lit up with understanding. “I get it! I think that’s a wonderful idea, Lily.”
Lilith hummed in agreement, happy that Eve seemed to like the idea. She set to work again, her attention focused on her hands. Eve though, seemed to want to keep talking - not that Lilith could blame her. Eve had a lovely voice and she could listen to it all day, though Eve had claimed the same thing about her. Perhaps they both had lovely voices - the idea pleased her a great deal.
“Can I ask a question?”
“Of course.”
“Why does Adam call you Lily? I mean… I have the memory of why and all but I suppose I just… don’t get it.”
“It’s a nickname. A… term of endearment, I suppose.”
“Your nickname for Adam is Sunshine?”
“It used to be.”
“Do you call him something else now?”
“Ah…” Lilith squared her shoulders. “No. Just Adam. I… wasn’t sure if he wanted me to keep calling him Sunshine after we were no longer wed in the eyes of Heaven.”
“I don’t mind if you call him Sunshine.” Eve shifted where she sat, pushing her leg out to gently nudge at Lilith’s leg with her foot. “I think it’s a nice nickname. I think he’d like to hear it, too. He is quite like the sunshine, isn’t he?”
“Mmm, perhaps I will.”
They lapsed into silence for a brief moment before Eve prompted Lilith with another question. “Do you think I could get a nickname?”
Lilith looked up and raised her brows slightly. “Of course. What to call you though… Give me a moment to think of something.”
“Okay!” Eve beamed, her smile so bright it could light up the darkness. “I’m going to think of one for you too.”
“That sounds nice.” Lilith felt more at peace right here, right now, than she had in many months. She couldn’t help but hum a soft, melodic tune while they worked. Lost in the repetitive motions of the weaving and the music drifting through her mind and the air, time flew by. It wasn’t long before the blanket was finished and Eve was flitting off to do the next task that had gripped her fancy. Lilith, in the meantime, was content to take a break. She was content, but a strange tiredness settled within her, coaxing her to relax for at least a little bit. She leaned up against a tree and draped the blanket over herself. This was definitely one of her better decisions.
She felt a presence next to her and opened her eyes slowly (when had she closed them?) to look up. Adam smiled down at her. “Care if I join you? Eve said you made a blanket and I want to try it.”
“Feel free.” Lilith gestured to the space next to her and lifted up one side of the vine blanket.
Adam slipped in and Lilith dropped the blanket back down. “Oh, this is nice. This is really, really nice.”
“You can thank Eve for that. She came up with a really good way to weave it. I just had the idea.”
“A damn good idea.” Adam nodded, getting cozy. “We should make more of these.”
“We can ask Eve whenever she returns. She’s like a little bumblebee. Constantly flitting around and finding things to do.”
Oh. Oh. That would be such a lovely nickname for Eve. Bumblebee. It was cute and Lilith thought it was fitting. The flowers certainly seemed more vibrant when Eve was around, just like they would if a little fuzzy bumblebee had visited them.
It was the next morning when she introduced the nickname to Eve. Eve squealed with delight and captured Lilith in a tight hug before introducing her own nickname for Lilith - Songbird. Her delight was almost enough to ignore the small gift that had been left at her bedside. A gift from a specific angel who was attempting to win back her forgiveness for his transgressions. The gifts were harmless - little trinkets or things that he made. They started appearing a few days after she had left to stay with Adam and Eve. They were pretty, but they weren’t an apology. Or, at least, to Lilith they didn’t feel that much like an apology. It would be so much better if he came and apologized to Adam - admitted that it was his fault things had escalated.
The gifts continued their appearances for the next week, and Lilith felt her resistance slowly breaking down. She stashed the newest one with the rest - a Lily flower that glittered in the sunshine, made of some unknown material. It was sturdy, yet it felt so delicate. She let out a small sigh and closed the lid on her basket. Maybe she’d seek him out and they could talk. She took a deep breath and shook herself, determined to focus on the here and now instead of what was to come.
For breakfast, she, Adam, and Eve, feasted on apples from Eden. Adam finally spoke up, almost hesitant.
“So… Our Father spoke to me. Last night.”
Lilith’s eyebrows shot up. “He did? About what?”
“Something important?” Eve leaned forward.
“Kind of.” Adam offered a small, strained smile. “I found this tree before I came back home. It… it had all these apples, right?”
“Apples like this?” Eve held hers up and took another bite.
“Yes and no.” He rubbed the back of his neck and let out a small, almost-stressed sigh. “He said it was the Tree of Knowledge and that we shouldn’t eat the fruit from it.”
Lilith paused, looking down at the apples. “Are these…”
“No.” Adam shook his head vigorously. “Absolutely not. These came from a very different tree, trust me. I um… I asked why, but I didn’t get an answer.”
“Well, that’s easy enough.” Lilith shrugged. “We don’t eat from the tree, then.” If their Father Above said it so, then it must be important. You did not know all, see all, become all, and then proceed to issue meaningless orders, right?
No. Not an order. The word “order” rubbed her the wrong way. It was a request. That made it sound nicer. Their Father had issued a request that they not do it. She was inclined to follow it.
“How do we make sure we don’t accidentally eat from it?” Eve frowned, looking down at her apple. “I don’t want to accidentally pick from it and then get in trouble. Maybe you could show us the tree so we know which one to avoid?”
“I…” Adam hesitated, wavering in his spot. “I’d rather not go back there. Being around the tree made me feel… off.”
“Oh. Maybe you could tell us where it is and Lilith and I can go check it out?”
“It’s a good idea, Adam.” Lilith offered him a small smile. “Just so we know.”
“It’s a pretty identifiable tree. You’ll know it when you see it…”
“I’d be going out to find the tree regardless of you giving us instructions on where to find it,” Lilith stated plainly. “I’m curious what it looks like.”
Adam sighed in defeat and issued out the instructions. Lilith and Eve looked at each other and were immediately scrambling to their feet, waving to Adam as they raced to go and find this Tree of Knowledge. A softened call for them to be careful followed afterward. A happy bubble of laughter burst from Lilith’s throat as she and Eve raced through the forest. Eventually, they broke into a familiar meadow and both stumbled to a stop. This was the meadow where Samael taught her to create flower crowns. This was the meadow where Samael encouraged her to think for herself. And in the middle of the meadow stood what was undoubtedly the Tree of Knowledge.
“It’s beautiful,” Eve breathed out. Her gaze was transfixed on the tree.
Lilith placed a soft hand on Eve’s shoulder. “It’s… I understand why Adam claimed it made him feel off, now.”
Eve looked over to Lilith, tilting her head in confusion. “What do you mean?”
“It makes me want to crawl up into its boughs,” Lilith spoke softly. “It makes me want to spend all my time around it and to wrap my hands around its fruit and…” She trailed off and shook her head. “It makes me want, and I don’t like that.” Her stomach churned unhappily, the threat of nausea burning at the back of her throat. She took a deep breath, trying to push away the feeling. For now, it dissipated.
“Oh…” Eve bit her lip and offered Lilith a small smile. “We can go back if you want.”
“Let’s… Let’s do that.”
They turned their backs to the Tree of Knowledge and left the meadow, slower than they had arrived. They had only made it a few short feet from the meadow when the nausea returned tenfold. This time, Lilith could not ignore it. Her legs grew weak and her knees buckled, leaving her to hit the ground hard. Her ears rang and distantly, she could hear Eve’s sudden panic as she retched. Her stomach clenched and her chest was tight as wave after wave rushed through her. Her mouth tasted vile and her throat burned. She barely had time to suck in desperate gasps of air.
Lilith clenched at the grass, the blades ripping up underneath her desperate grabs for something grounding. Spit trailed from her mouth as she gagged and vomited for what felt like the hundredth time. Eve had found her, and she had been quick to pull Lilith’s hair back, rubbing her back, offering soft and soothing words until, eventually, the convulsing of her stomach stopped.
“Are you alright?” Eve's hand continued to rub soothing circles into her skin. It eased the uncomfortable prickling that danced along her dermis - a sensation that made her want to crawl out of her own body to escape it.
“I’m fine,” she groaned, sitting back. Her head felt light and dizzy, as though it was drifting away from her own body.
“Is this a panic attack?”
Lilith shook her head, the movement small to keep the world from swirling around her.
“Should we get Raphael?”
“I don’t… I don’t know. I don’t want to bother him. It’s probably nothing.”
“Okay…. How about Adam?”
“I want Samael,” Lilith confessed in a whisper. Residual tears burned at her eyes, finally slipping free. Or, perhaps they weren’t residual at all.
“I…” Eve trailed off. “Adam doesn’t like Samael and you said you were mad at him.”
“I know.”
“Why do you still seek him out then?”
Lilith glanced over to Eve, her eyes still brimming with tears. “It’s not about what Adam likes or wants, Eve. I… I love Sammy and he’s been trying to apologize and- and- and why can’t it be about what I want? Why does Adam’s input matter so much?”
“Oh, no, don’t cry,” Eve shushed her gently, pulling her into a tight hug. “I’m sorry, Songbird. I didn’t mean to imply that Adam’s input mattered more, I just… I trust him. A lot.”
Lilith sniffed, holding Eve back just as tightly, desperate for the contact. “I know.” She eventually released Eve and rested only her head on the woman’s shoulder. “Do you think I ate something bad?” The nausea had appeared at the tree but… instinct told her that this wasn’t the tree’s doing. However, it wouldn’t be a surprise if her stomach couldn’t even handle the food of Eden anymore. Her womb did not work. Her mind supplied her with lies to keep the people around her happy and content. And now, her stomach rebelled against her - against the fruit of Eden.
Was the Garden of Eden slowly trying to push her out, now that the world outside was being finished?
Eve was quiet for a moment, letting the peace of Eden attempt to wash over the both of them once more. Though it wasn’t meant to last as she spoke again, “I’m going to tell Raphael, anyway.”
“Why?” Lilith’s voice broke on that single word, the noise ragged and unbecoming. She truly was no longer fit for the garden, wasn’t she? “What good will it do? He shall simply force me to leave and I’m not ready to leave.” Her hand found Eve’s, and she clutched at it tightly. “Samael may come with me, but I am not ready to leave you or Adam.”
“Who says you would be leaving Eden?” Eve looked at her with concern, her brows furrowed in confusion. “Do you know something I don’t?”
Lilith let out a bitter laugh, wet and resentful of her current situation. “Look at me, Bumblebee. My body rejects the fruit of Eden. My mind betrays me constantly. My body failed in its singular designated purpose. Even when I give myself purpose, deciding that I would take care of you and your children, I fail. Here you are, comforting me and supporting me. I should be supporting you, instead.”
“Stop that,” Eve chided. “Stop that right now. I will not hear you speak about yourself this way, Songbird. Just because something has gone wrong doesn’t mean you’ll be forced from the Garden of Eden. You don’t even know that your womb wasn’t supposed to be as it is. And at least you have the boldness to try and serve your own purpose, Lilith.”
Lilith wanted to respond. To argue against every single point that Eve had made, but she was just so tired. Her bones felt as though their marrow had been replaced with lead, determined to drag her to the ground. Her eyelids dropped, weighted by the anchors of exhaustion. “I don’t want to deal with this anymore.”
“So don’t,” Eve whispered, smoothing back Lilith’s hair. “Let me help you.”
“Okay.”
Eve wasted no time in bringing Lilith back to the home that she and Adam once shared. The meadow that was so familiar, and yet so different now. It still bore a few things that Lilith had made - now gifts, rather than her own possessions. Even if she had removed herself from being a central actor in the creation of humanity, it still warmed her heart - just a bit - to see that Adam and Eve had not entirely removed her from the narrative. That they still wanted her around, or at least, they still wanted parts of her around. Memories of her. Memories of who she used to be. Who she still was, sometimes.
Adam looked up when both women entered the meadow, joy quickly becoming overwhelmed with concern. He dropped his current project and darted over, supporting Lilith’s other side. Together he and Eve eased her down and onto the frond bedding.
“What happened?”
“I don’t know.” Eve shook her head. “She said it wasn’t a panic attack.”
“It wasn’t.”
“Okay.” Adam nodded slowly. “So it wasn’t a panic attack. What…”
“I don’t know,” Lilith groaned, flopping back on the bed. Her stomach was finally settling some. “I don’t know what happened. One moment I was fine and the next I felt the urge to throw up my entire breakfast.”
“Okay… Raphael?” Adam asked, looking between Eve and Lilith.
“Raphael,” Eve confirmed.
It wasn’t as if they could simply summon Raphael whenever they wanted. Uriel, however, was a different story. As the caretaker of the Garden of Eden, he was supposed to keep a close eye on the Garden in its entirety, and by extension, the humans that lived within it.
Lilith’s mind idly wondered if he had seen her and Samael lay together. Though… he would have known of Samael’s presence before he was told, if so. Perhaps his siblings were exempt from his watchful eye.
Eve needn't even step away and call for him, as soon Uriel was there, with Raphael at his side. A slight air of panic fluttered around the first humans, but both angels maintained their calm.
Raphael knelt before the bed in an all too familiar scene and held his hand out to Lilith. “May I?”
Lilith gave him a small nod. “Okay.”
His hand extended over her, hovering just above her skin. A soft glow gradually built under his palm as he assessed the situation. While Raphael worked, Uriel pulled Adam and Eve aside, determined to speak with both of them regarding what happened. Fear and worry still churned inside of her. Adam and Eve suffered not within the Garden of Eden. Was it because Eve was made from Adam, that she suffered no ailment? That her body did not reject what gifts of the garden?
“Why am I broken?”
The glow of Raphael’s hand stuttered and flickered for a moment before strengthening. He met her eyes and Lilith could see the confusion swirling around. His features were normally somewhat stern - solid and unwavering - though it was in a way that felt distinctly reassuring, rather than admonishing. “Why is it that you think you are broken?”
Lilith tore her gaze away, choosing to instead stare up at the blue of the world’s sky. Clouds gently floated past, splotches of white and pale blue that gave the view more depth and visual appeal. “Does it matter?”
“I should think so.”
“You said it before. I feel things I should not be feeling in the Garden of Eden. You still haven’t told me whether or not the Creator intended for my womb to be so barren. And now, my body is rejecting the food that Eden gives me.”
Raphael was quiet for a long moment. It caused the nerves inside Lilith’s throat to wind tighter, a knot that nothing could force itself back. It forced burning tears to her eyes as she tried to fight it off, and yet, it persisted. When he did finally speak, his voice was low and soft - uncertain. It was not a tone that was reassuring, nor was it a tone that suited him. “Father did not provide me with clear answers. He informed myself and my siblings that the answers to our queries would come in due time. Have… have you laid with Adam, recently?” He pulled his hand back, allowing Lilith to sit up.
She propped herself on her elbows, brow furrowed. “No, I haven’t.”
“When was the last time you laid with Adam? Was it prior to Eve’s creation and awakening?”
“Yes.” Lilith nodded and sat up more. She couldn’t even find it within herself to voice a better time frame. “Why?”
Raphael watched her for a long moment, searching for something, though she didn’t know what - couldn’t know, truly. “Have you lain with Samael? I am well aware his visits to the Garden of Eden have substantially increased in quantity and length.”
She could lie. She could tell him that she hadn’t. That she hadn’t even seen Samael and had been entirely unaware of his presence in the garden. But the words could not move past that knot in her throat. The lie could not break free and instead gave room to a quiet, “...yes.”
Raphael nodded, the movement small. He seemed pensive, his brow furrowed with what Lilith could only guess was concern. “Well, Lilith, I do believe you can no longer term your womb as barren.”