Archive of Our Own ^beta

Lilith knows where she needs to go, and where the first one she seeks should be. But her conversation with Eda lingers in her mind, and even if there were much familiarity to be found around her, she would not see it now.

They were all given rooms when this first began. King’s, and Eda’s now, are closest to the Collector’s. It stings more deeply than Lilith has admitted; not because she wants to be closer to him, but because it has felt from the beginning like another separation between her and Eda. Because whatever authority is in charge of this world always seems to make sure they are at odds.

But the others might see what she sees, even if Eda will not. She will go to Raine and Darius and Eber and tell them about Eda as soon as she is done here… but first, she knows there is someone they need—someone she needs—even if the others will not want to. And so it is a door near to her own that Lilith stops in front of, and after a moment of deliberation, she draws a deep breath and knocks.

“Come in.”

The voice is empty, uncaring, but it has said what Lilith needs to hear, and so she enters the room and closes the door behind her. The room is similar to her own; relatively small, with a bed and dresser, and a window with a spectacular view of the unfamiliar world outside. Lilith looks to the window seat.

“Hello, Kikimora,” she says.

Kikimora is curled up there, looking out the window. She is dressed in a plain blue robe, finer than the clothes she wore on the Day of Unity but far less formal than her garb as the Emperor’s assistant. She does not look Lilith’s way, but her body stiffens at the greeting.

“What do you want, Lilith?” she asks.

She looks so different. But unlike Eda’s, Kikimora’s change is not due to the Collector’s influence. No, this is entirely Belos.

Lilith knows the truth, thanks to King’s rushed explanation. She knows that Kikimora knew far more than she had told, and that she did not care, because she assumed the fate Belos intended for the Isles would of course never be hers. And Lilith can see the result of that assumption being destroyed; Kikimora now looks lifeless, listless, indifferent to everything and everyone. 

As much as Lilith wants to just be angry, when she looks at Kikimora now her anger is thoroughly mixed with both pain and pity, and she cannot tell which of them is stronger.

“What do you want?” she asks in response.

Kikimora laughs, softly and mirthlessly. “You should know,” she answers. 

It’s not an answer Lilith is surprised to hear, but that does not make it any more helpful. She thinks of Eda, and proceeds.

“Do you… think this is right?” she says, taking a step closer to the window. “The Collector’s way? All this chaos?”

It’s the same question she asked her sister, and though she doubts she will get the same answer, her fingers clench in apprehension for what the answer might be.

Kikimora shrugs, still looking out the window. “What difference does it make?” she asks. “It’s not like there’s any stopping them.”

That isn’t a yes, though, and hope begins to rise in Lilith’s heart.

“That’s not what I asked,” she presses. “Do you think this is right?”

“Why are you asking me?” Kikimora says slowly. “Aren’t there other people around who are more trustworthy to you? Or have you already gone to other people, and they said no?”

“I–I spoke to my sister, and she refused to listen to me,” Lilith replies, trying to keep her voice steady. “But other than her, no. I will go to the others, but I came to you because you have knowledge of the Collector, and also—also because you and I were in the coven together all that time, and I... hoped you'd agree that this is wrong.”

Kikimora’s left hand clenches into a fist. She is silent for a long moment, and Lilith watches her, waiting, hoping.

“Well, it’s the opposite of Belos’s way,” Kikimora says at last. “If nothing else it’s a way to spit in his face, and I can take pleasure in that.”

Lilith might have been tempted to roll her eyes, if this were less serious. As it is, she merely glares at Kikimora.

“I’m sure you think I’m a fool, but I know that you’re lying,” she says. “You’re not taking any pleasure in this. If you were, wouldn’t you be out helping the Collector instead of spending all your time here wallowing in self-pity?”

Kikimora tenses, but does not turn around. “Well, what makes you think that I care about whether or not it’s wrong?” she asks. “I knew about the fate of the Golden Guards. I knew about the Collector. I knew about the Draining Spell and what it would do. But I did nothing to stop it.”

It’s Lilith’s turn to clench her hands into fists. She’s well aware of all that, but it makes Kikimora’s words no less difficult to hear. Pain wraps about her, pressing in on her from all sides, and the stupid, selfish question she has told herself so many times she should not ask escapes her lips.

“Would you have cared if I had died?”

The silence that falls weighs upon Lilith like it carries the weight of the world.

She has avoided asking this for months. She has told herself that no matter the answer, it does not change anything that Kikimora has done. She has reminded herself over and over again that Kikimora’s heinous actions would be no less so if the answer to her question was what she wanted it to be, and that thus there is no point wondering what it is.

And yet the question has lingered in her mind ever since the Petrification a lifetime ago, and has only grown stronger since the Day of Unity. It refused to leave her mind, and now it is too late to take it back. 

Slowly Kikimora turns around. For once, the finger of her front head-hand has lifted, and so both of her eyes meet Lilith’s.

There is a strange look on Kikimora’s face. Pain, confusion, sorrow, anger—all of it shines in those eyes, and Lilith does not look away. She can see the answer to her question there, coated though it is in layers of complication, and a lump forms in her throat. 

“You should leave,” Kikimora says, looking away again. “I may have knowledge of the Collector, but if you want to fight him, go to the people you can trust instead of wasting your time with someone who would have let everyone die, in-including you.”

Lilith clenches her fists again.

“I know what you did,” she says, her voice growing colder, “and I said nothing about forgiving you. And I am going to go to the others regardless of whether or not you agree to help.”

“Good.”

“But the fact of the matter is—” Lilith draws a deep breath. Saying that right now will get her nowhere. She may not have known the entirety of the Emperor’s plans when she left the coven, but she is certainly familiar with the complicated feelings that came with her departure.

“You’ve been here, doing nothing, ever since the Collector took over,” she says instead. “Has it made anything better?”

Kikimora says nothing in response.

“Kiki, you—”

“Don’t.”

The whispered word is brittle and soft and filled with sharpness.

Lilith closes her eyes for a moment. “All right then, Kikimora,” she says, grateful that her voice remains steady. “I may not understand everything you’re feeling now, and I can’t forgive you. But I do understand some of it. After leaving the coven, I didn’t think I had a purpose anymore. I wallowed in self-pity and refused to accept anyone’s help, and I can assure you that doing that will get you nowhere. It won’t make the pain go away.”

She thinks of Hooty and his determination to make sure she was not alone, and she is tempted to smile before she remembers where Hooty is now. Shaking her head, she opens her mouth to begin speaking again, but Kikimora beats her to it.

“You had people,” she murmurs, and her voice is trembling. “I—I never have.”

It's true. Lilith knows that well enough now, even if the words will never be sufficient to dispel her anger. And even if she herself had people there for her when she lost almost everything she had worked and lived for, she is familiar enough with loneliness for seeing Kikimora like this to hurt. 

“Yes," she says, "but that's different now."

Kikimora looks at her again.

“My sister is on the Collector’s side,” Lilith goes on. “I can’t make her see reason, not now. But we can try and figure out a way to fight the Collector, and for that we need someone who knows about them. You know far more about them than anyone here, and I—we all need your help. I promise it’ll do you far more good than this will. And I... I do want to help you.”

Silence falls again, and the look on Kikimora’s face has changed. There is something softer there, and something inquisitive.

“Why?” she asks quietly.

Lilith looks into her eyes.

There’s never been a word suitable to name whatever she and Kikimora are to one another. They’ve never been friends, though she was close to calling them that during their long-ago days as scouts together in the coven. Nor are they exactly enemies—at least not anymore—and nor are they allies, although she hopes they will be soon. Nor are they what they were in their later days in the Emperor’s Coven; Kikimora is no longer Lilith’s superior.

But Kikimora was in the Emperor's Coven with her for so long. They've been through so much together yet apart, and have never understood one another properly. But now they have a chance to, a chance to begin working together... and maybe a chance for them both to begin anew. 

So Lilith draws a deep breath.

"Because I may be furious with you, but... I care about you too."

Kikimora stares at Lilith. Her right eye is hidden again, but the tear sliding down from it is visible enough. After a moment, she gives Lilith a quick nod.

“All right," she murmurs.