A/N: I am attempting to be as historically accurate as possible with this fic (not an easy proposition given that this entire chapter is set approximately 2000 years before written languages existed) and for most of human history, in most places, life sucked for women and anyone viewed as weak or different. So please, consider this a very broad trigger warning for sexism, forced marriage (and at an age we would consider too young in modern western culture), lack of consent, negative views towards physical disability, violence, death, etc.
I do not intend to be graphic in this fic with the darker things, and will label chapters very clearly if that changes, but there are going to be upsetting and disturbing themes and events due to the time periods the story takes place in.
Also, the characters themselves may think/express things I do not agree with, based on their own knowledge/bias.
~x~
in a million multi-colored lies
Eve is more numb than surprised when she and Adam are banished from the Garden and they discover they are far from the only humans on Earth. What is truth and what is lie has become so tangled that she can hardly give credence to either.
She has no regrets.
Adam has not forgiven her for offering him freedom, but he does not know how to not love her and so they form a new life among the other humans, who accept them for their health and strength despite their oddities. No longer so peaceful and pleasant, instead their days are painful, hard, and viscerally real.
She bears him two children, a son and a daughter, and whispers to them of choices while their father and the other villagers sleep in their homes of mud brick. Her son works on the maintenance and creation of water channels with his father and her daughter joins her in the fields, working to bring life from the Earth that once favored her with such abundance.
The others find her strange, stranger even than Adam who, after the initial shock, faded into their new world with ease. But she Sees, Sees things no one else does, and it sets her apart, whispered words trailing after her when she fetches water and teaches her daughter how to grind seeds into the fine powder they use for cooking.
She dreams, every night, of gods and knowledge and blazing comets in the sky, and wakes with inhuman screams ringing in her ears.
She is still curious, but she is no longer afraid.
Adam dies in one of the fevers that comes with the spring flooding and her daughter nearly follows. Eve proves to be the most adept at treating the sick and soon the whispers take on an air of reverence. She is still strange, but she is useful. Her son is taken in by one of the other men and their place in the village is not questioned, the fruits of her and her children's labor enough to support them along with small gifts that occasionally appear at their doorstep.
Eve dies as the oldest person in the village, surviving long enough to hold her son's daughter on her knee and to give her blessing to her daughter's union to a man who will not hurt her.
She dies content.
She awakens with a hearty scream and intense disorientation that does not fade until she is old enough to walk. She is a quiet and strange child, the little girl whose sky-colored eyes never miss a thing, and in this life when the fevers come she is chosen as a sacrifice to the gods.
She dies choking on brackish river water.
When she awakens again, she does not scream. The words she learns are strange to her ears at first and her eyes are dark and slanted. She learns how to create clay vessels at her mother's knee and enjoys the way the squishy earth is shaped into items of graceful use. She uses a sharp stone to carve designs into the clay before it is placed into the sand to harden and helps her mother prepare rice for their evening meal.
She is better at concealing her strangeness in this life and she is careful not to See unless she is safely alone. She makes no noise when she dreams and her family views her with the distant affection all daughters receive.
Two summers after her first bleeding, she is given to one of the most successful hunters in their village. He is less gentle than Adam and she feels anger, hot and bitter, for the first time since The Father cast them out of the Garden for the crime of choice.
She wishes she'd been born a boy. And then, fiercely angry again, wishes that being born a girl did not mean being born without choices.
Eventually she bears him a son and is both glad and sad when a daughter does not follow. She has not forgotten her first choice, or the things she Saw, but she knows now that she is not to blame for the lot of women in this world, so much bigger than she ever dreamed.
Lessened guilt does not equate to lessened pain and at night she weeps for all her daughters, born or not.
During the day she teaches her son humility when his father is not around, and whispers the same lessons over his bed that she taught her first children: how to see and how to choose.
She dies after cutting her arm while gutting fish and does not mourn the life she lived.
In her next life, she finds herself in the same village she lived in as Eve, grown larger and more populated. There is a temple in the center of what is now nearly a city, stacked rooms of carefully crafted mud bricks, and the small water channels have become larger canals, irrigating the fields. The reed huts of the fisher people and the tents of the goatherders have grown in number as well and a more organized trade has sprung up.
She is with her mother in the square by the temple where people bring their excess goods for barter when she sees him and her hands clench against the rough fabric of her dress.
He is less than he was, but more than those around him, and still beautiful, light flickering at the edges of her vision in the places no one else can See.
His head turns as he leads a string of goats between two women with baskets of grain and their eyes catch and lock. Her mind quails with the things she Sees and she makes another choice.
When the world will not give you choices, sometimes one must create them.
~x~
It takes two lives for Michael to accept the loss of his wings, to adapt to his fragile, mortal flesh. He cannot and will not accept the loss of Lucifer, who has been by his side for more ages than humans have existed in their present form.
He wanders, living off the land and seeking out every settlement he can find for a hint of the sparks that cannot have burned out entirely. Not all such places are friendly to a stranger, and his third and fourth lives end in violence he cannot bring himself to reciprocate.
He has spent the entirety of his existence as The Father's Sword, the Captain of His Host in the wars waged against The Others. He is not skilled at violence, he is violence, and he will not use what he is against mortals who are mere children in their understanding of the world. Children who are only seeking to protect what is theirs.
Lucifer was right. He would have fought for the freedom of the mortals The Father created and enchanted, had Lucifer not found a way to do so first.
The truth of that does not make his absence any easier to bear.
He finds Eve first and is furious at The Father all over again for punishing her too.
There is a reason Lucifer could not stand what The Father had done. Free will is never so appreciated as by those who have never had it.
She is younger than he is, although not by much, and hovering in her mother's shadow as the woman bargains for a basket of fish. When their gazes meet, a surge of recognition and renewed grief leaves him breathless.
She watches as he carefully approaches, and steps away from her mother so they will not be overheard. Her eyes are dark in this life, filled with shadows that make him ache all over again, and they hold his with startling intensity when she speaks. "I am not sorry."
It surprises a chuckle out of him and he shakes his head, admiration and unexpected joy curving his mouth. "I am glad."
She blinks and gives him a slow, cautious smile. "Is he," she hesitates and lifts one shoulder in a wordless gesture of curiosity.
He lowers his head, heart seizing at the reminder of the empty space between them. "I have not found him. Yet."
She frowns but cannot speak again, her mother drawing her away with a suspicious glance at the tall stranger. He watches her go and for the first time since he fell, contemplates staying in one place.
Loneliness is but one of the new sensations he has experienced since gaining a mortal form, but it cuts the deepest. The woman who chose freedom is something familiar, a reminder of what he lost and why. The rewards as well as the cost. Her bravery is undeniable, as bright and shining as Lucifer's, and he is overcome with a desire to know what she has become in this world outside The Father's carefully crafted bubble.
Eve sharing their fate is a cruelty that should not be. But she does not seem to be mourning the cost of her decision and for Lucifer's sake, if not his own, he resolves to learn the truth of who she has chosen to be in the face of others' actions. If she will let him.
He does not expect her to approach him the next time their paths cross in the Temple square and ask him to barter with his parents for her.
"Why do you wish this?" he asks, taken aback by the offer of what is essentially slavery, even if he would never treat her as such. Neither of them deserve to ever be slaves again.
Some part of him is still surprised she even recognized him; unlike Lucifer he never spoke with her, and she has no reason to trust him other than his association with the first being to give her a choice.
Her lips curl downwards. "You will not expect me to perform my womanly duties. Will you?
Her eyes are still penetrating and he shakes his head, saddened and angered. What Lucifer offered changed her, more than he had realized. Or perhaps she was different all along, perhaps The Father miscalculated when He sought to create obedient sheep in order to work His will on the mortal realm. Mortals have always been trickier to mold; it is why The Father and others like Him play their game in other realms.
Either way, this life is ill suited to one with her knowledge, and if he can help ease it, he will.
"What will your father accept for your bride price?"
She looks faintly surprised at his acceptance, then smiles in pleasure. "A breeding pair of goats will raise his status within our tribe."
He returns her smile and nods. It will also raise hers, to be worthy of the price. "Where can I find your father when I have them?"
"Meet me here in three days; I will bring you to him," she says, and turns to go, casting one last smile over her shoulder.
He watches her walk away and wonders at his purpose. Mortals have choices, but they are young, this race, and they do not appreciate the gravity of that ability, nor the breadth of the freedom they hold. They use those choices to enslave each other, to play at being gods, even as they fear invisible forces.
He has never had so many choices before and he finds himself at a loss as to what to do with them. Finding Lucifer has been his only goal. It is still what he wants, more than he has ever wanted anything. But perhaps it is time to make other plans. To utilize the potential of his mortal form, a potential The Father both envied and underestimated.
Turning away, he makes his way back to the tents of his tribe to arrange for a pair of goats, the memory of gold eyes and unbowed shoulders driving him forward. It is past time he became more than a weapon, or a ghost.
Three days later he has traded labor and the fruits of several successful hunts for the right to trade away two of the tribe's precious breeding stock and is following Puabi ("I am not Eve, not anymore,") toward her home.
Her father is surprised by his offer, and seems reluctant at first to trade his daughter ("so strong, so healthy") away to a goatherder, but he cannot resist the lure of milk and the ability to breed his own livestock, something no one else in their tribe has, and so agrees while her mother watches with a flat mouth and sad eyes.
Puabi gathers her clothes, a basket of weaving, and a basket of grain her mother pushes into his hands, and they leave. She never looks back.
He leads her to his tent and shows her inside under the intent and curious gazes of his people. She looks around the tent, taking in the pallet of reeds covered in loose hides he sleeps on, the spear and various tools, the clay vessel with water, and various other items he had never realized were so intrinsic to mortal life, and sets down her belongings in a clear corner before turning to face him, her hands on her hips. "What do I call you?"
Blinking, he almost laughs, realizing that she has never known his name: any of them. Yet here they are, bound together for the duration of this lifespan, however long it lasts. He thinks Lucifer would laugh, if he was here. "I am Naram in this life."
She nods and he is once again struck by how indescribably brave she is, to come here with him, a man she does not know. He wants to tell her this, but does not know how she would respond so holds his tongue. "I can make another pallet," he offers instead and she smiles at him in clear amusement.
"It is better to share warmth. You will not do anything I do not want you to do."
He smiles back, a different kind of warmth flaring in his chest at her certainty. "As you say, Puabi."
She grins, her face lighting up as some tension he had not noticed flows out of her. "Now show me to your cooking fire, so your people may see your new wife and I may make us dinner."
He bows his head in obedience and leads her out of the tent with a wide smile upon his face that sets his people to whispering, one old woman chuckling to herself as she weaves in front of her son's tent. He thinks this life will have more happiness than his last four.
He is not wrong.
They never lie together and his people are disappointed by the lack of children. Only one dares to suggest divorcing Puabi and his response is harsh enough to prevent any such words in the future.
During the day she joins the other women of his tribe in weaving, grinding grain into flour, cooking, and caring for the children, while he spends his time with the other men, caring for the goats, hunting, fishing, and trading with the other tribes. At night they teach each other languages never spoken by the people of their city, and speak of the history he has witnessed. She is endlessly curious and he finds a new peace in his memories as he speaks of his life before the fall.
When he wakes with Lucifer's name on his lips, she offers silent comfort, and when her eyes go sad and distant while watching the women and children of the tribe, he gives her stories to take her mind away.
She dies first and missing her is an unwelcome pain. As is the thought of her in a new life, alone, at the mercies of a world that does not respect choices, and he knows he will be forever searching for not one but two souls as he lives and dies again and again.
He dies of one of the many illnesses that sweep the plains and only wishes it was swifter. When consciousness returns, he is in a round hut made of reeds and mud. His skin is dark, darker than the earth, and his people live on the banks of a great river.
His legs are twisted and he hears his parents whisper of giving him to the river and praying for a stronger son.
He is ashamed that part of him wishes they would, so he might be born again in a body that is not an enemy. He had felt weak in his first mortal body, his wings and his power gaping losses in his soul, but he has never felt so helpless than when trapped as a crippled child who can barely drag himself to relieve his bodily needs.
But he remembers the bravery of a woman who created choices in a world with none and when his parents choose to keep him, he finds ways to make himself useful. His arms are strong, they bear most of his weight when he needs to move, and his fingers are deft. He is soon skilled at weaving, and shaping clay into vessels, and while his parents pray for a stronger son (they are eventually blessed with a strong daughter instead and he ignores the disappointment in their eyes and makes her the center of his world,) they no longer speak of sacrifices.
He still dies young. The river does not flood one year and when the crops wither, he is one of those who is not fed. He does not resent this; he has been of use, but he cannot provide for the tribe as others can, and he will be buried in the village with a clay figurine and other offerings rather than slipped into the river with other children they wish to forget.
The world when he wakes is cold, colder than he has ever been, but he is strong again and he is not ashamed of the fierce joy he finds in running as his tribe moves across frozen plains in search of game.
Joy that is more than eclipsed when he crests a snow covered hill and finds Lucifer on the other side.
~x~
His first life is short and ends in violence, his tongue running away from him before he remembers that he is no longer merely hiding beneath this dull human shell but actually bound to it. His second is shorter and ends in hunger when he is shunned from the tribe he was born to and fails to adapt to the desert on his own. His third he ends by his own hand rather than obtaining manhood by killing a member of the village they are feuding with.
He does not remember his fourth and fifth lives. Or at least, that's what he will say when asked.
His sixth, oh in his sixth he finds him again, and for the first time since his wings were burned away by The Father's fury, he feels sparks well within his breast.
He is hunting with the other boys of his tribe, collecting game for their stores before the true winter storms make food gathering dangerous if not lethal. He has split away from the others, following the faint traces of hooved tracks in the snow, when his neck prickles with the sensation of being watched. Raising his head, he sees an unfamiliar figure. There are no other tribes currently settled in the area and for a moment his stomach sinks at the thought of a battle for territory.
The wars he fought in The Father's name are distant and unreal, and killing as a mortal is horrific on many levels.
His eyes meet the curious gaze of the watcher, a boy about his age, and his breath catches in his throat as phantom flames lick the edges of his memories. Before he even realizes he's moving he's halfway across the distance between them, something loud and bright and fierce thrumming beneath his skin.
Michael is right there, brown hands wrapped around his arms and unfamiliar dark eyes burning into him, and Lucifer sags, dragging them both to the snow as he sinks into the other man's embrace, eyes stinging with the first tears he has ever shed.
"I thought He would keep us apart," he murmurs against Michael's hide covered chest and Michael's arms tighten around him like protective metal bands.
"He does not have power over this world, over us. Not anymore." Michael's words are a vow, a plea, and Lucifer digs his fingers into the other man's back and silently makes the same oath. The Father will not break them; this punishment will not be the end of who they were, or who they will become.
He lifts his head, seeking Michael's mouth with his own. When their lips meet, it is rough and warm and like nothing he has felt before. Their love has burned brightly for longer than humans have walked the Earth, but their bodies Before were not made for such things – they had been weapons, vessels of power, their desires limited by their purpose.
But these bodies, these frail, mortal structures, can feel so much, can touch and taste and hold. They are beautiful in their very lack of purpose, their lack of fate, and the feel of Michael's soft hair beneath his fingers in his undoing.
They are both shaking, and not with cold, and Michael is cradling him like he is something fragile and precious that will break if he is not careful. Lucifer bites his lip and pushes him down into the snow, swallowing Michael's laugh as his grip becomes tight enough to bruise. This is real. He is real, and he wants every moment branded into his flesh.
Melted snow seeping into the fur lining of their clothes eventually forces them to stand, to reluctantly disentangle their limbs, although their hands remained locked, fingers intertwining in a hold Lucifer needs so he will not float away into the abyss. In silent accord they turn away from the paths they both took to this place and head further into the wilderness, far from both of their peoples, who will mourn but accept the loss as nature's cost.
They keep moving until the growing dark of the sky hinders their progress. Together, they hollow out a small mound beneath the snow, carefully turning and layering the drifts so the roof will not collapse on them. Lucifer is only carrying his spear, a bone knife, and some food, but Michael has a full pack of food, tools, and extra hides, which they use to line the bottom of their shelter. They share berries and dried meat and curl together for warmth, their damp clothes set aside to be dried in the morning when they can build a fire.
They touch each other slowly at first, languidly enjoying the warm silk of skin beneath fingertips that have never felt so sensitive. Michael's lips against the hollow of his throat are like a brand, like the fire the other man wielded in another life, and the unconscious motion of their bodies grows more frenetic, both seeking friction with an instinctual ache. Their mouths meet again, hot and slick, and they are both surprised when release comes, shuddering against each other with muffled groans.
After the euphoria has begun to fade, Lucifer looks down between their sweat-kissed bodies and makes a face. "Humans are so messy," he mutters and Michael laughs, dragging his chin up for another kiss.
"It is worth the mess," Michael says, humor fading into something warm and solemn and Lucifer kisses him again, knowing he means more than just the pleasure they shared, knowing he means Lucifer himself and the price they are paying for his actions.
They clean themselves with melted snow, the cold an unpleasant shock after the warmth of their activities, and curl up again, limbs intertwined in a lazy sprawl as sleep drags them under.
Lucifer dreams.
When he wakes, Michael is watching him, a small smile curving his lips although ghosts lurk in his eyes. "We are not the only ones The Father punished," he says quietly, his hand reaching up to cradle Lucifer's face. Lucifer raises a questioning eyebrow and Michael's smile fades as his thumb caresses Lucifer's bottom lip. "Eve."
Lucifer inhales sharply. "You have seen her?"
Michael nods, his mouth quirking upwards in amusement. "She was my wife."
Blinking in distant surprise, Lucifer wonders if he should feel betrayed. Instead he chuckles. "What was that like?"
Michael leans down and kisses him, then pulls away with a fond smile. "It was interesting. She reminds me of you."
"Stunningly beautiful?" Lucifer teases and Michael laughs softly.
"Brave. Stubborn. Intelligent," Michael says, tapping his thumb against the crease of Lucifer's mouth with each word. "She's the one who came to me, to avoid a true marriage." His face sobers. "I do not think she's had an easy time with her lives so far. Nor is she likely to in the future."
Lucifer remembers the darkness in his dreams and closes his eyes as the ache where his power used to be burns bitterly. "The Father has much to answer for."
"The Father was a fool," Michael murmurs against Lucifer's lips, his voice dark with promise. "He should have destroyed us utterly."
Lucifer's eyes slide open and he grins into Michael's mouth, fierce satisfaction humming in his veins. "He will regret that decision."
Michael agrees with a breath stealing kiss and the morning is soon lost to more enjoyable thoughts as they discover new ways to bring pleasure to each other.
When they are sated, they begin to plan.
They travel for many days, avoiding the trails their respective peoples have used before. During the day they hunt to excess, storing meat and preserving the hides and bones for future use, and gather what few edible plants they can. At night they build temporary shelters and work bone and hide into useful objects, then curl up together and explore every inch of each other's bodies.
Eventually they reach the edges of a forest and begin to work on a more permanent structure using large blocks of snow as they prepare for the winter that is soon to arrive. They continue to hunt and store food, along with dried wood for fire, and work in a companionable harmony that sometimes feels more real than anything, and at other times feels like a distant dream until Lucifer has wrapped himself around Michael and swallowed his very breath.
When winter comes, they are ready, and Lucifer finds himself enjoying the long hours of forced confinement in ways he had never considered before. Their punishment's sharp edge has been dulled by the new possibilities between them and although their current peace cannot last, he knows they will always find each other again.
He still Sees, and while it is banked, the fire within Michael still Burns. They are not what they were, but they are not merely mortal either, and there are many paths before them.
Winter ends and they are free to wander once more. Life continues, slow and sweet, their days filled with survival and their nights with plans and the warmth of skin. Years pass and Lucifer savors every second, aware such quiet ease of existence will be rare in the lifetimes to come.
When it ends, it ends in pain and the tearing of flesh. They are hunting caribou when they stumble across another hunter, large and furred, with claws that slide into Lucifer's stomach with the same ease that Michael's sword used to cleave The Father's enemies. Michael shoves his spear down the bear's throat, but it is too late for Lucifer.
He dies with his blood on Michael's grieving face and broken words of love on his lips. His only regret is leaving Michael alone.
When he wakes he is crying, angry wails his mother cannot soothe.
His people live in a cave on an island, hunting and growing grain. They worship a fertility god and Lucifer is not amused by the realization that he will be expected to take more than one wife once he has proved himself as a hunter. But he remembers what Michael said about Eve's lives and resolves to do what he can to ease the lives of those chosen to be his mates.
When the time comes to bed his first wife, he makes it clear he does not expect her to do anything she does not want to do. She does want, however, and he awkwardly fulfills his duties, learning the differences between her body and Michael's.
She is not upset by his hesitance and as time passes they grow more comfortable with each other. She chooses his second wife along with the elders of the tribe and the younger woman's infectious enthusiasm for life is hard to resist. When his first child is born, he stares at its tiny frame in awe and wonders if the essence that makes him more than human will be passed on.
But his daughter, and later his son, do not seem to See or Feel anything that the other children of the tribe do not, and he is relieved. Eve had told Michael of her life of sacrifice and he remembers his own shunning when he did not hide his differences. Humans are afraid of strangeness, and he would not wish that danger on his descendants.
This life ends more peacefully than his last and he is an elder of the tribe when a wasting sickness claims him.
His next life is his first with a people who use boats for fishing, collecting oysters, and the hunting of seals. It is also his first life with Eve. She is born two years after he is in the same settlement and their instant connection is noticed by their parents and the others of their tribe, who seem bemused by the unusual friendship. He brings her decorative shells and when he is given a dog after his first successful fishing expedition, it is Ásta ("never Eve again") who names it.
The two of them wandering the area around the village is a common sight and they discuss the things they See, the people they have been, and the lives yet to come. No one is surprised when he presents her father with a bride price a year after her first bleeding and she wears a belt of teeth and shells he crafted when they are bound together.
He is surprised when she makes it known she wishes a marriage in truth, surprised and glad. There is none of the awkwardness there was with his last life and his only wish is that Michael could be with them too.
"Yes," she tells him, not needing words to know what he is thinking, and he kisses her.
Some of their futures are very bright indeed.
She bears them twin children, both girls, who are doted on. Lucifer frequently catches Ásta watching them with shadows in her eyes and does his best to drive them away, wanting her to have as many happy memories as possible before time once again splits them apart.
They are able to assist their daughters in choosing mates of their desire when the time comes and die within a year of each other, living long enough to witness the birth of their first grandson.
His next two lives are spent alone. He wanders, filled with restless urges he cannot name, and avoids human contact once he has determined the lack of Michael and Eve's presence in each settlement or nomad group he encounters.
When he awakens in his third body since his life with Ásta, his people are nomads. They live off the land, and off the fruits of the settlements they raid. He does not plan to stay with them, not wishing to join their violent lifestyle when he is old enough, but when he is six, Eve, now Linde, a tiny girl with golden hair and large brown eyes, joins them after being stolen from her village. Two years later, Michael is born.
Their souls burn brightly, a comforting warmth he had not thought he would feel so soon, but his dreams are dark and he fears for what is to come.
He stays as close to them as he is able, and attaches himself to the men who guard the women and children despite his father's urging to join him in raids once he is old enough to wield a spear and a blade. Michael's face is cherubic with youth and he follows Lucifer everywhere, a fact the women of the tribe find adorable while Linde smiles with quiet knowledge.
They clash with another nomadic tribe once and Lucifer can see the furious frustration in Michael's eyes at his helplessness. The attackers are repelled with ease, only injuries received, no deaths, and that night Michael and Linde both slip out of their respective tents to curl into Lucifer's sides as he sits watch.
"What have you Seen?" Michael asks, his voice baby-soft but his dark eyes glinting with remembered flames.
"Life," Lucifer responds, his voice fierce as he leans down to brush a kiss across Michael's forehead. "Life is all I See."
Michael is silent and Linde hums thoughtfully as she tightens her grip on their hands. When Lucifer meets her gaze, he knows she has Seen something, but does not ask, and her smile is dark and dangerous as she holds his eyes before turning away to stare into the night beyond their camp.
They break camp in the morning and the tribe moves on, more cautiously than before.
Another year passes and the men leave on another raid, against a village rich in copper goods. Lucifer wakes to screams and fire. The tribe they'd driven off has returned while the bulk of their forces are away. He stumbles out of his tent, half clothed with a spear in one hand and a knife in the other. He sees an armed man pluck Linde from the arms of a dead woman and bares his teeth, lunging forward. Something strikes the back of his head and he collapses to the ground, Linde's eyes burning into him as his vision goes dark.
When he wakes again, he is one of the few survivors. Michael and Linde were both taken and he does not stay to help the others. Instead he gathers weapons, some food, and follows the trail the attackers left in blood, debris, and tiny scraps of fabric from an all too familiar dress.
He finds their camp the next night and kills three of the men, two while on watch and a third who stumbles into the trees to relieve himself. When they break camp in the morning, he can see that they are nervous. They expected an attack, if any, to be blunt force, not shadows in the night. He follows them at a careful distance while they do their best to cover their tracks and does not attack again, instead paying attention to where the captive children are kept and how many guard them.
He doesn't attack that night. Instead he plans and watches, learning their movements. They begin the night tense, but relax as the hours pass with no further assault. He gives them another day of peace and waits several hours after nightfall, until the men still awake to guard are less observant than they should be.
He moves silent and quick and when the camp wakes to fire and dead sentries, he, Linde, and Michael are long gone, all three clutching bloodied blades.
They do not return to their tribe.
It is two days before exhaustion claims Michael, his small body slumped in Lucifer's arms while Linde leans against his side, her eyes still sharp as they comb the forest around them for any sign of movement.
"He is not going to enjoy the next few years," she murmurs quietly, glancing at the slumbering form with a fond smile.
Lucifer shakes his head and sighs. Linde has only two or three years left before her first bleeding and a growth spurt. But Michael's body is only six years old, and he will be frustrated by his limitations in helping them survive.
"We will manage," he says as he straightens, smiling as she automatically pulls away and tightens her grip on the flint blade she has not relinquished since she shoved it into a man's throat. "Let's find shelter, we need rest too."
They spend the night in the hollowed out trunk of a fallen tree, a family of rabbits for company. Rabbits who make an excellent morning meal; Michael skinning and cooking them with small, deft fingers while Linde fetches water and Lucifer sorts through their supplies.
After eating, they carefully cover all signs of their presence and continue moving. They keep moving for weeks, until the itch on the back of their necks has faded into a faint twitch instead of a sharp spear point.
They create a home when they find a place safe enough, digging into the earth and building above it with wood from fallen trees. Michael has the sharpest eye for spotting edible plants and Lucifer teaches Linde to hunt. Linde had stolen two ceramic pots from their captors which serve for water storage, and they are all capable of sewing clothes from animal hides when the cloth they ran in begins to wear thin.
In the evenings, Michael carves wooden figures into strange shapes while Lucifer and Linde expand and reinforce their home, and at night they take turns telling tales or singing songs until they fall asleep.
By mutual agreement, Linde and Lucifer do not change their relationship until Michael is old enough to join them and the first night the three of them share a bed without clothes is full of gasps and sighs and surprised exclamations of pleasure as they learn how to fit the three of them together in ways they've only dreamt of, and ways they haven't.
Lucifer watches his lovers sleep, Linde curled between them while Michael's arms are snug around her small frame and Lucifer's chest, and allows the flicker of joy in his chest to grow into a full flame. The Father intended only pain with his actions, but he underestimated human resiliency. There has been pain, and there will be more, more than he wants the two souls beside him to experience, but there will also be pleasure and happiness and love.
He watches their chests rise and fall and remembers blood on his hands and the light in their eyes when he found them in the tent with the other captive children. The Father had named him the Bringer of Death and there will be more death in his future. But The Father is not the only power in the universe, and He is not the only being who can create life. One day the sparks lurking in Lucifer's soul will be strong enough to burn anew and death will no longer follow in his footsteps.
One day they will have a life together that does not have to end.
And no one will be able to stop them then.
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Notes:
1) The chapter title comes from the lyrics "And I have fallen from the sky; In a million multi-coloured lies" from the song Plastic Rainbow by Marina and the Diamonds. Also, I will totally be posting a fanmix at some point for this story because my playlist for it keeps growing. (There is a ridiculous amount of Imagine Dragons on that playlist, fair warning. I'm beginning to thing they're all Marvel fans with how well their music suits the characters.)
2) This is going to be set primarily in the Marvel Cinematic Universe with possibly some elements from general Marvel canon as well. I want to include certain things from the comics, but definitely can't use the whole universe as A. they've already included Lucifer and the angels and my version is better (*cough* author bias *cough*) and B. Historically speaking it is iffy as hell and I am attempting historical believability here, ignoring the whole you know, angels and superheroes thing ;).
3) The following notes are for any readers who enjoy history nerding as much as I do, since I couldn't resist sharing some of my research notes for this chapter :D.
A. Thanks to the genealogies listed in the Bible, Biblical historians have pinpointed the Garden of Eden myth to have taken place around approximately 5400 BCE, so that is when this story begins. That is, of course, well after modern humans began moving about the world and forming settlements and such, so that is taken into account in the mythology/history I'm creating here.
B. The first village that Eve lives in, and the one that she and Michael spend their first life together in, is the settlement of Eridu, one of the oldest cities in Mesopotamia, and the cultures described are based on what archaeologists have found in regards to the area/time period. The names are not accurate however, as again this is set approximately 2000 years before written language was invented and therefore our records are sketchy at best. So Puabi and Naram are names from that geographic area, but from a couple thousand years later.
C. Eve's third life is set in the Zhaobaogou culture of northeast China. Again, records are sketchy, so please take my representation of their culture with a grain of salt.
D. Michael's first life after his life with Eve takes place in the Merimde culture in Lower Egypt.
E. Michael and Lucifer's first life together takes place in Alaska/Northern Candada with the pre-Inuit Paleo-Arctic tribes. I imply that they build an igloo, and I couldn't actually find how old those particular structures are. Also, the details of things like neolithic procedures for the curing of hide and how they made their clothes are kind of a bitch to find. I can't wait to be at my new University with their giant library *happy sigh*.
F. Lucifer's next life is on the island of Malta, with the unnamed culture that first settled there. They did worship fertility figures, but (as far as I know) the polgyny is entirely created by me although many cultures of that era did practice it. (Also, they totally hunted pygmy hippos and elephants and I am so sad those are now extinct cause dude, pygmy elephants, who would not want to be best friends with one of those?)
G. Lucifer and Eve's first life together is spent in the Ertebølle culture in southern Scandinavia, one of the few we have more details on, so the mentions of shell/tooth belts and boats, etc., are actually accurate, although again the name is not as old as the culture.
H. And then finally the Lucifer/Eve/Michael life is set in Middle to Eastern Europe, no particular culture, and Eve's name is also inaccurate as to time, but accurate as to location (Ancient Germanic.)
4. We only got through like, approximately 400 years of human history in this chapter, and there are still 7000 years to go, so the story will not be continuing at the same pace. I haven't quite figured out how I'm going to work the next few chapters, because I do want to show more of their pre-Marvel lives and I have certain specific plans for time periods/persons in history, but need to speed things up, so we'll see how that goes. Hopefully it won't take me too long and I'll have the next chapter up soonish.