It would be easy, Novalis knew, to accept that Lilith was her first great failure.

Fortunately, she never gave up quite so easily.

When an artist designs a home, she designs it for those who will dwell there. Novalis was shown them while their eyes were still closed to the universe: a strong young man, fur on his chin and chest and groin and legs, skin a thick earthen brown, something peaceful in his will-less face. A young woman, all twisting curves like the Seraphim, soft-furred under her arms and between her legs and on her head like the Cherubim, already looking as if life and energy was fast in her veins, the calmness of non-being and all-being in her features, a sense that this was all women that would be after, a down to earth humanity about her. Novalis knew later that she should have concentrated more on the man and not had her vision weighted so to the woman - after all, it was the man who would inherit the earth.

And still she looked, and built the garden to be a paradise to both of them, though mostly to her, and so it was for a time.

Then Lilith arose, blood running between her legs, her hair tangled and leaf-wound, and announced that she quit.

And so Lilith left the home Novalis had made her, and Eve was made to take her place, and so it went. Lilith was not built for the outside world; the outside world was not built for her. She could have died quickly out there, and perhaps, on reflection, that would have been a better thing than living long enough to accept the Lightbringer's invitation.

But no, Novalis did her best to help Lilith, and if the berries were edible more than they were poison, and if bushes happened to afford her shelter, and if plants offered up issue enough that salad remained one of Freedom's favourite foods, it was no more than love that granted Lilith that.

Then Hell.

Novalis could not reach her there. She heard the stories of babies that died, breath sucked from them by a pretty woman who passed through houses and looked for the unwanted. Lilith was no longer growing in the day but in the night. Hush little baby, don't say a word.

Later, a while after Novalis had managed to befriend her (if their odd relationship could be considered friendship) Lilith had ranted at her. For the first time, one of her Daughters had left her for Novalis.

"If you love something," Novalis had said, "let it go."

Lilith had said: "No, Novalis. If you love something, wrap it about in charms so that it will never leave your side against your will."

It had made Novalis think again about the gems Lilith wore for her gown, about the bands wrapped around her Daughters' souls.

"You're like them," Novalis had said after a long time. "Keeping their babies safe from monsters in the night."

Lilith had turned away in a flicker of red hair and green eyes and a gown of ownership. "Do not compare me to her children."

Green was often stated to be the colour of envy, as well as that of growing things.

Novalis persisted in maintaining a relationship with Lilith. Subtle messages. Hints dropped at Tethers. The very ground beneath the Princess of Freedom's feet murmuring invitations to this, to that, to a third thing. Lilith sometimes accepted, sometimes did not. She was often both amused and frustrated by Novalis' continued attentions, occassionally told her to stop. To never do this again.

Above all other things, Novalis would not give up. Lilith's Word was Freedom and she gained power from both the dark Freedoms and the bright ones. And yet she was bound. Something in her was always kept in check. Novalis knew what it was to be free and wondered, often, why Lilith never felt the exhilaration and joy in life that freedom offered. The wild rush. And so, above all things, she would not give up.

Their outings together were never discovered; perhaps their suposed interactions with other Words on the other side masked it. Perhaps it was simply that when they were out, they were not Archangel and Princess so much as they were Cherub and Human. What Superiors would, for instance, go shoe shopping?

It was while they were shoe shopping that Lilith said: "I am barren. Adam knew, at the end."

Novalis had asked, "Is that why you are so protective of your Daughters?"

Lilith had picked up a pair of heels and tried them on. "I need to maintain my worth. That's all."

And there was also the time that they had gone to an art museum and, looking at paintings, Lilith had laughed and laughed. "I remember no fig leaves," she murmured. "At least not as garments. Uncomfortable, I'd think. Still, there's something sort of endearing about it."

"Endearing?"

"Like one of those picture books. Lift the flap, get a surprise."

Lilith sometimes had a surprisingly full-throated laugh, as if it started deep inside her. But there was still something held back.

It might be love. Novalis isn't entirely certain, but wants to hear more of it, and more of the reason behind it. Something beautiful about that. A song without the dark underweavings that had been there so long.

No more nightingale, no more mockingbird.

Perhaps this was the autumn of Lilith's years, but there was the potential for something young in that noise. Novalis had never heard it.

Eventually, there came a call to one of her Tethers, and Novalis headed down to take it.

"Yes?"

"It's me."

"Hi!"

Amusement in her voice. "Hello. I was wondering if you wanted to do something."

"Sure. Where to?"

"I have a place. How does scrabble sound?"

And so Novalis ended up in an apartment with Lilith and they played, inventing words that should be when they couldn't find one that was - which was rare, and always is when you know all languages.

Barren, Lilith wrote.

Novalis used the e: Loved.

Left.

Touch.

Broken.

"What's wrong?" Novalis asked.

"How long," Lilith asked, tapping a block against her chin, "do you think one can go without realizing that you were wanted for your politics?"

Novalis sighed. "Forever, if one doesn't want to realize."

"Longer," Lilith said. "My body misses love."

Novalis spelled out kissme. "It's a hard thing not to miss."

"I am wanted for my humanity. I am wanted for my Lilim."

Novalis said, "There's more to you than your issue."

Lilith kissed her.

And Novalis kissed back; sudden passion, drive, something, Lilith's hands tangling in her hair almost painfully as if that's what they knew or wanted to know, the kiss rough and sudden and teeth bumping awkwardly at that point but oh, the warmth of it, the sudden taste of heat.

Of exhilaration.

Lilith pulled back and tasted her own lips, thoughtful. Novalis watched, smiling, it was hard not to smile.

"Surprise me," Lilith said.

Novalis tilted her head. "What?"

"Surprise me. There is nothing sexual that anybody has done to me for a very long time that has surprised me. Surprise me. Startle me."

Novalis heard also: delight me. Make it all new.

"Surprise you."

Lilith smiled. It was a fierce look. "Make this worth it."

A long moment of thought, and Novalis said, "Close your eyes."

That done, she rose and wandered the apartment, selecting this here and ah, good, yes. She sliced the tomato with a very sharp knife and took the two roundest, thinnest slices. A lettuce leaf. Of course a lettuce leaf; no figs here.

A bit, well, cliche, she thought. But Lilith wouldn't be expecting cliche or humour or any such thing.

"In here," she called from the bedroom.

She leaned up on her elbows as Lilith entered and paused in the doorway. A sudden sparkle in green eyes.

Novalis gestured to herself, to the slices of tomato over her nipples, to the lettuce leaf that barely covered her. She took a deep breath. "Well, you know. I always did tell people to eat their greens."

Another pause as Lilith heard that and peeled a layer of meaning back and another and another and then laughter

Blessed, blessed laughter.

Novalis closed her eyes, her smile threatening to escape her, and let the sound wash over her.