"You won an evening with me."
An evening with Lilith. Er . . . yikes. "In the meadow?" Sheev chokes. Is she talking about sex?
The Mother Witch laughs deep in her throat before she assures him, "No, my Lord. Not in the meadow. When I entertain a man for the evening, I do it in priiiiiii-vate in my bower." Bow-waaaah.
Well, shit. Sheev never understood THAT was the wager for the sparring match. He nods weakly like this is no big deal even as his mind races to formulate a strategy for the situation. How does he avoid offending Lilith by rejecting her?
"When a Brother mates with the Mother," Lilith continues, her choice of words making things explicitly clear, "it is as much about power as it is pleasure. And power is best revealed in secret, don't you agree?" She says the word 'pow-waaaah' to rhyme with 'bow-waaaah.' She tosses her shoulders and teases lightly, "We wouldn't want to scare anyone, would we?"
The sly Mother Witch is tempting him with the lure she knows will work. He's not horny for exotic
Lilith-entrancing though she may be-he's hot for her ichor. And that makes this a totally different offer from what the young witch Circe offered him last night on the swing.
"But as you say," Lilith's eyes slant towards him again, "you are a faithful married man . . ."
She looks to him expectantly. Hopefully. Then she drops her chin and lowers her lashes and peeps up at him demurely like he's the aggressor, not her. She's playing at passivity, and they both know it. Lilith must realize how off-putting he found Circe's proposition in the meadow.
"You will be gentle with me, won't you?" Lilith coos with a feigned shiver of girlish nervousness.
Sheev fights the urge to laugh out loud. This woman is such a piece of work. But she wants him and is trying to appeal to him, and that strokes his ego. It's kind of nice to be pursued. After all, the last time he saw his wife she was cursing him like a spacer and threatening to use his lightsaber to make him a eunuch. They parted bitterly, like usual. Who knows where things stand currently with Cresta?
So, Sheev deliberates, but only for a moment. Because simpering Lilith presses her case. "I'll show you my pow-waaaah if you show me yours . . . "
Hell, yes. This is his opportunity. He won't let it pass him by. Cresta will forgive him, he reasons, if she ever learns of this lapse. Cresta loves him. Like he loves her. And yeah, they fight. But they wouldn't fight if they didn't care so much. And really, he's doing this for her-so he can learn new powers in order to kill Plagueis to claim revenge and make her an Empress. She'd like that. Really, he reasons, a fling with Lilith is more in the nature of a sacrifice on his part than true cheating. Cresta should be grateful, not angry.
So Sheev plunges ahead with his strategic betrayal, excited for what comes next. "Where is this bower?" he demands as he inwardly vows that the powerful Mother Witch won't emasculate him. He's a Lord of the Sith, which makes him a master of seduction. Sex isn't his usual ploy, but no woman he's taken to bed has ever had cause for complaint.
"This way," the Mother Witch whispers huskily as she tucks her arm through his.
Sheev allows himself to be led. How should he play this bizarre situation? He decides against enthusiasm. He's going to make the Mother Witch work for him.
Lilith escorts him back towards the Sisters' village and through the meadow where the witches are preparing to mingle for their nightly orgy. Then, she veers off towards the west to slowly ascend a rocky outcropping. There are no other witches here. They are alone, as promised.
Their craggy canyon destination has a rugged beauty. Tucked within the scattered rocks on high ground lie a series of springs. Lilith informs him that the springs feed a stream that flows into the nearby river. Then she directs him to a secluded pool nestled amid the rock mesa.
It's a bathing spot. There are wooden pegs driven into the wall to hang clothing. There are towels neatly folded on a bench next to a basket with soap. There is even an ewer of water waiting on a tray with cups. It's everything one needs to freshen up before a tryst.
Lilith lazily waves her hand and two tall torches on stakes ignite. They give a warm amber glow to the fading late afternoon daylight.
She points at the pool. "Undress and step in. It's not deep," she assures him. "It is most refreshing. It will soothe any aches and pains earned in your victory. Bathing is so restorative," she muses.
"That fight was nothing." Sheev immediately disavows breaking a sweat to win today.
Lilith leans in to his bravado, feeding his ego on cue. "We all saw. How mighty you are, Daaaaarrrrrrrth Sheeeeev," she rolls her 'r' even as she turns to walk away.
Is she laughing at him? With Lilith, Sheev never can tell. And where is she going? He's uncertain. But he decides to play along and follow her instructions after she disappears.
Sheev eyes the small gurgling pool. Please don't be cold, he thinks. He doesn't want to face Lilith naked in a shrinkage inducing pool. He might not be a tall, muscular guy, but he's got it where it counts-meaning he's got lots of brains, lots of Force, and a bigger than average dick. But every IQ point, midichlorian, and inch counts. He's certain that the Mother Witch has seen a plethora of penises, and he wants his to impress.
While Lilith wanders off, Sheev divests his clothes. He stashes his lightsaber in one of his boots. Then he dips a toe in the pool. It's warm. Relieved, he wades down the steps hewn into the rock. He finds himself chest deep in a hot spring. It's quite nice, to his surprise.
From his perch in the pool, Sheev has a good view of Dathomir's sunset. He also has the perfect vantage point to assess the witches' upcoming harvest. Stretched before him down at the bottom of a steep ravine lies the fertile valley with the Coven's crop fields. Sheev observes the wheat gently swaying with the breeze. His eyes trace the neat rows of plants. It's late summer, and the crops are near their peak. This is the bounty of the full year's work. Soon, the witches will collect and store their yield. Then, the Coven will prepare for the lean winter months.
The witches perform these same tasks year after year. They glory in life's natural cycles, in its abundance, its interdependence, and its renewal. They see the invisible hand of the Force in everything. But nothing changes, and that's the point. It must be terribly boring. Still, Sheev has to acknowledge the idyllic charm of this quaint spot. There's something very primal and life affirming about Dathomir.
There is a faint sulfur smell on the breeze. Could that acrid scent be from the mineral water spring? Or maybe from the torches? Sheev also catches a whiff of smoky-sweet incense. Is Lilith at her magic close by?
He is relaxed now, and that mood always gets him scheming. He habitually does his best plotting while on vacation. So now, as he luxuriates in the warm water, he ponders the Coven's apparent fear of a Jedi invasion. That fear could be very useful. If Order 66 doesn't work out as planned, could the Sith find a way to provoke war between the Jedi and the witches? A battle royale between the Light Side Knights and Dathomir's Dark-ambivalent occultists would be a fight to behold . . . The Sith could sit on the sidelines and simply watch the slaughter unfold.
It's an intriguing premise, but those thoughts get shelved immediately when Lilith reappears . . . mostly naked.
Suddenly, she commands his full attention.
She's wearing a fishing net? Yes, as she approaches, Sheev perceives that Lilith has donned a transparent caftan that's made from one of the meticulously woven cast nets the witches use to fish. This version has shiny metal threads woven throughout. They glint copper in the torchlight, giving her barely veiled body a luminous glow.
Sheev stares.
For her part, the Mother Witch saunters up as if there's nothing to look at. Is this her culture's ambivalence to nudity showing? Or is she being coy like usual? Sheev suspects the latter.
This chick has boundless aplomb, but she's also a fetching eyeful. Look at those pert breasts bouncing with her movements. They have large, vaguely purple nipples that match the same grey-purple shadows beneath her eyes. Sheev's eyes wander lower to settle on the thick patch of dusky curls at the apex of her legs. Beneath that au naturale lady garden, he suspects the Mother Witch has a purple cunt to match. The Brothers might have warm toned, yellow, brown, and ruddy complexions, but the Sisters share the same spooky alabaster skin. Despite their vivid scarlet clothing, the Nightsisters remind him of holonet actresses starring in some stylized throwback black-and-white film.
In fact, with her razor-sharp jawline, saucy lips, and main character energy, Lilith could easily be a leading lady. Without her voluminous dress and cloak, her body is revealed to be leanly muscular. She's tall, but narrow in build. When naked, she appears elegant, like a fashion model. It reminds Sheev of his dancer wife's figure. He has never been much for fleshy women.
He keeps staring. Sheev knows he should be playing it cool and acting oblivious, but he can't stop staring. There's too much to look at.
With her cloak divested, Lilith's hair is also revealed. It's grey-brown, like every other Sister he's seen. But hers is a cloud of ringlet curls that fall halfway down her back. They're the sort of curls that tempt you to wrap one around your finger. They look soft to the touch. They are also the perfect ultra-feminine counterpoint to soften Lilith's high forehead and angular features. Seeing her now, it occurs to Sheev that the heretofore regal Mother Witch is actually quite pretty.
Lilith catches his eye, and her lips twist up in that enigmatic half smile, half smirk she does so often. And oh well, so much for him playing hard to get. Sheev is certain she correctly read his admiring gaze.
Unselfconscious as ever, Lilith shrugs out of her gossamer dress. It falls with a whisper to puddle on the ground at her feet at the edge of the pool. Then, she pours herself a cup of water from the pitcher and descends the steps to join him. Lilith stands opposite him in the water. As she looks over his exposed chest and shoulders, she drinks deeply.
Does she like what she sees? She makes no comment. But as she pulls back the cup from her mouth, she licks her lips.
Sheev sucks in a breath and quickly looks away. But under the water, he feels his dick start to grow hard.
This is cool, he tells himself. This is totally cool, and he's fine with it. Yeah, he's naked in a hot tub with the most powerful Force user he has ever met, next to his Master. And she's a creepily goodlooking witch who's down to fuck this evening. Moreover, he won her in a duel. He conquered her best warrior and now he's going to conquer her as spoils of war. His Master would love that kink, if he knew. But that thought reminds Sheev that he's here on a mission to kill Lilith's kid. He must be careful how he proceeds.
Just now, the Mother Witch is lounging against a rock, outwardly luxuriating in the water. Her nipples peek out half-above, half-below the waterline. Her dangling curls are wet at the ends. Her grey-white skin glows from the soft rays of the golden hour setting sun. Lilith's eyes are closed, but Sheev feels certain she's watching him.
Okay, well . . . who seduces who? With everything involving Lilith, there is a subtle power play at work. Sheev had intended to play hard to get-he feels he owes that to Cresta. But maybe that's the wrong tactic. Maybe he should be the aggressor. For suddenly, acting standoffish seems perilously close to the passivity he has observed in the Brothers. It's time to make the point that he's not like them. He's a Lord of the Sith, a prince of the Dark Side, and he can take whatever he wants from any woman. Even this one. Maybe, especially this one.
Sheev is about to cross the pool to make his move when Lilith opens her eyes and preempts him. "Tell me about your Master."
The question simultaneously deflates and distracts him. So much for romance. Nothing puts him in a bitter mood faster than the mention of Darth Plagueis.
Sheev's face twists in a grimace that expresses years of frustration. With a heavy sigh, he mutters, "He's a centuries old Muun whose power is only exceeded by his ego."
"And you think it is time to supplant him?"
Sheev's lips settle into a tight line. "It's past time."
Lilith takes another sip of water and meets his eyes. "You hate him."
"Intensely."
"It's personal?" she guesses. "Not motivated merely by ambition?"
"Yes."
"He has wronged you?"
Sheev nods grimly. "I seek revenge." He does not elaborate. But his eyes involuntarily flash yellow to underscore the depth of his animus. That fucking Muun needs to die. Preferably after maximum suffering.
"I see."
Lilith puts down her water cup and picks up a bar of soap. She starts lathering up one arm. In a bizarre juxtaposition, she casually bathes while he inwardly rages and starts spilling the secrets of the Dark patriarchy.
"I have always found the Sith system to be bizarre," she observes offhand. "You train your replacement to kill you."
"That's right." It's the rule of two concept instituted by Darth Bane.
"Where is the Sith Master's incentive to pass down his knowledge?" Lilith asks. "Why wouldn't he hoard it?"
"They do."
"So Sith Masters take their best secrets to the grave?"
"Yes," Sheev confirms. "Some knowledge must be rediscovered each generation." He shrugs. "It's not efficient or ideal, but that's how it is."
Lilith digests this thought as she starts soaping her other arm. "So, the Master seeks an Apprentice who is good, but not too good. He wants a competent assistant who he knows he can overpower . . ."
"True."
Lilith frowns at this. "Is that the kind of Master you intend to be? A fearful one?"
"I suppose." It's only prudent.
"Wouldn't the Sith be more powerful if there were more than two of your kind allied together?"
Plagueis wants to return to those bygone glory days, but Sheev himself does not. "Long ago, the Sith operated like that. But not any longer. The Dark Side does not share power well." History proves that too many Sith Lords leads to infighting and defeat. If nothing else, the rule of two makes things predictable. A Master's closest ally is also his eventual enemy. The Master therefore knows who to keep an eye on.
Lilith nods along but pushes back. "Isn't your system really just a waiting game? The Apprentice waits for the Master to become old and weak, or trusting and complacent, right?"
"There's a bit of that to it," he concedes. "But when the Apprentice kills the Master, the Master fulfills his purpose. The Apprentice inherits his role, his power, and his influence. Then, the cycle begins anew." Sheev is matter of fact about the process. "We like to say that when a Master dies to his Apprentice, he dies with a smile on his face."
"Oh, I rather doubt that," Lilith snorts. She is wry and irreverent about his kind, like usual. But Sheev finds himself chuckling along. He likes the Mother Witch.
"It is not easy to live as you do," she now observes softly. Sheev sees kindness in her eyes and it's disarming.
"Going to tell me that I'm unbalanced again?" He makes light of her insight.
Lilith raises her eyebrows at him. "That is your goal, is it not? To be unbalanced in the extreme."
"Yes." The Sith would phrase it differently, but yes.
"How's it working out?"
"Well. Very well."
She's skeptical. "You don't look happy."
Wait-she can see that? Sheev winces and immediately brushes off the point. "The goal of a Sith is power, not happiness."
"So power doesn't make you happy?"
"Happiness is fleeting. Power is not." Plus, power can obtain a lot of substitutes for happiness that generally suffice.
Lilith has shifted from soaping her arms to soaping her chest. She has his full attention now as she lavishly lathers her breasts. Noting his rapt gaze, she smirks. "Would it make you feel better to know that your Jedi counterparts are equally as miserable?"
"Anyone can see that. All that selflessness and repression . . ."
"Whereas you Sith are a lot of selfishness and repression," Lilith counters tartly.
Sheev lifts his chin. "The Sith are not repressed."
She straight up laughs at him. "Parts of you are very strongly repressed," Lilith giggles mercilessly at his expense.
"Oh?" He crosses his arms and fumes, "Which ones?"
"The good ones." She grins at his indignation and drawls, "It must be exhausting to be so Darkly determined all the time."
Annoyed, Sheev quotes his Master to her. "Evil is a vocation."
Lilith rolls her eyes. "Your so-called Darkness isn't evil necessarily, nor is the Jedi Light Side always good. The Force is not so easily categorized."
Sheev pouts at her and jeers, "Thousands of generations of Jedi and Sith say you're wrong."
"Sheeeeev, my good friend," she condescends, "we are all a little Dark. But that doesn't make us evil . . . like you claim to be." Lilith's lips curve up as her eyes dance. She's enjoying their lowkey argument. "We are all a little Light, too. Even you," she accuses.
Sheev chooses to ignore that remark. Talking to Lilith about the Force and the Sith feels like an ongoing negotiation. What's her angle? He's still unsure what she's after.
The Mother Witch persists in her needling. "I see the Light in you," she playfully mocks him. There is undisguised glee in her eye.
"I am immune to the Light," he sniffs. He refuses to be baited . . . but he is baited nonetheless.
Lilith just looks at him for a long moment, smirking with silent disagreement. Then, she wisely changes the topic. "What would make you happy?"
He doesn't need to soul search for that answer. "Killing my Master."
"Ah yes, your revenge. Why do you wish to slay him?"
"I'm tired of being under his control."
"Does he restrict you?"
"Not really."
"Then how does he control you?"
Sheev blurts out, "He doesn't like my wife."
"That upsets you?"
"I do not enjoy his disdain," Sheev snarls. He doesn't want to divulge the details of the ugly backstory of his Master and Cresta. But he definitely wants revenge for his Master's meddling that forever damaged his marriage. Plus, he'd love to get his hands on the Muun's fortune and the library of ancient Dark tomes he guards so zealously.
"Tell me about your wife. What is Lady Sid-eeeee-us like?"
How does he answer that question? Sheev takes refuge in vagueness. "My wife is . . . difficult." Cresta is savvy, smart, beautiful, talented, and very difficult. The combination is as irritating as it is beguiling. He can't quit her even though he knows he should.
"Difficult. That's why you chose her?" Lilith guesses.
"I suppose." Sheev feels very uncomfortable discussing Cresta with Lilith. But he sighs and admits, "Some days, I'm tempted to kill her myself, but keeping her around pisses my Master off."
"You like that?"
"Yes. He's entirely too smug . . . too happy. I do all the work and all the worrying, and he wastes time at parties and on his Force experiments. I'm the one winning the galaxy so one day he can rule."
That's the role of the Apprentice, but Sheev has outgrown it. It's why the thought of being perpetually under the Muun's thumb is utterly disheartening. Just talking about it, Sheev can feel resentment rising within him. He is aggrieved, so aggrieved at his glib and dismissive Master. Someday, somehow, he will supplant that Muun and steal the empire he has plotted for centuries.
Lilith closes her eyes now and inhales deeply. But it's not air she's reveling in, it's the Force. "How you hate him," she whispers, her eyes still closed and her head thrown back. Her mouth is slightly open, her hair is streaming, and she's stark naked. It makes for an eye-catching sight. If Sheev wasn't so triggered by the topic of conversation, he'd think she was super hot. "I can sense how much you hate him . . . " Lilith breathes out. "So much bloooood lust," she nearly groans the words.
"I will kill him," Sheev vows quietly. He means it with all his heart. It's a goal more important than toppling the Republic, exterminating the Jedi, and founding the new Sith Empire.
Lilith opens her eyes and nods solemnly. Something about her expression tells him that she appreciates just how important a task killing Plagueis truly is. And now, she tempts him. "Do you wish to know if you will succeed?"
Sheev's eyes narrow with suspicion. Does Lilith purport to have foreseen his future?
Coyly, she half-whispers, "Would you like to see your fate? I can show you the future."
She's daring him again. The proposition in the meadow . . . the challenge in the sparring ring . . . and now this. The witches keep feeling him out with their little tests. They're taking measure of him, he's sure of it. Seeking to assess the Sith Lord in their midst. Well, fine. Sheev vows not to disappoint.
But before he can answer, Lilith cautions, "You need not accept. It can be a great burden to know the truth. Oftentimes, it is best not to know what you cannot change."
She's speaking soberly of herself, Sheev realizes. Probably of the apocalyptic visions that she and the witch elders have seen.
Sheev considers, even as he pushes back. "The future is always in motion . . ."
"Indeed. But fate is fate, and it is folly to resist it. Trust me, Sheeeeeev, for in my hubris, I have tried. And I fear that soon I will try again," Lilith sighs. Twisting her lips, she confesses in a whisper, "I can't stop myself . . . "
"You want to save your people?" he guesses, thinking of the dying Brother witch who exhorted his leader to do anything to save the Coven.
Lilith looks stalwart as she nods. "The Old Ways must endure."
"It's a trap. You know that, right?" That's the oldest trap of the Force to show you an immutable outcome in order to bait you into attempting to change it. It's why foresight can be so deceptive-so Sith—in its manipulation. For a peek into the future often makes that future a self-fulfilling prophecy. The harder you try to avoid your fate, the more inevitable it becomes, the Dark Side teaches.
"I have to try . . ." Lilith admits sheepishly. And there's that miserable woebegone look he glimpsed earlier today.
He nods. "I know." In her position, he would likely do the same. If he thought the Sith were in danger of being exterminated, there's nothing he wouldn't try to avoid it.
"Lilith," he ventures impetuously, spurred on by the rare moment of empathy, "I might be able to help the Coven . . ." An alliance against the Jedi could benefit them both, he reasons.
The Mother Witch meets his eyes steadily. She's listening.
Sheev plunges forward. "You once said you hoped the Sith will collapse the Republic. We will! In time, I'm absolutely sure we will. Once more, the Sith will rule the galaxy. The Jedi Order will pass into history. They won't be around to invade here."
"I care only about the Coven," Lilith responds. And this is why an alliance with the witches is a safe bet. These people have no ambitions beyond their agrarian existence. Despite all their Force potential, the witches aren't players in the fight to shape the future; they're far too obsessed with the distant past.
"I won't let the Jedi destroy Darthomir," Sheev promises, hoping to bargain for the role of its protector.
Lilith isn't exactly enthusiastic. Looking guarded, she slowly observes, "The Jeddai-all of you-are treacherous. Too concerned with your rivalry. Not concerned enough with life . . . with the Force."
"Show me," he urges. "Teach me." He's dying to know more about her mysterious magic.
She is wary. "You would need to unlearn what you have learned."
"Start with the future. Tell me my future." He might as well know what's coming.
Lilith hesitates. "Are you certain?"
"Yes." Absolutely. "Tell me if I will succeed in killing Darth Plagueis." On that task, all depends.
Lilith puts down her cup. In a low voice, she confides, "I am not privy to your fate. The Force will disclose it to you alone."
"Is this some sort of magic spell?"
"No. There is a place nearby that reveals the future. Think of it as a wrinkle in time. When you step in, you confront your destiny."
"What sort of place is this?"
"Come. I will show you. You can experience it for yourself."
Lilith climbs up the steps to exit the pool, and Sheev follows. As she redons her fishnet dress and sandals, he hikes up his pants and steps into his boots. But first, he retrieves the lightsaber hilt tucked inside the right shoe.
It gets Lilith's attention. "Your weapon-you will not need it."
"I am always armed." A Sith must be prepared for violence-whether it's to defend against it or to start it.
Lilith shakes her head at him. "You do not need a weapon to confront a future you cannot change."
"Maybe so, but I'm taking the saber." Sheev slips the hilt in his waistband.
Lilith indulges him. This is her manner, he's noticed. When she disagrees with him, she states her view and then moves on. Mother will agree to disagree, which is refreshing. He wishes there was more of that attitude back home at the Senate.
As he shrugs into his coat, Lilith starts walking away. "You're dressed enough," she calls out over her shoulder. He hurries to catch up.
There is intermittent water amid the high rock mesa they traverse, and where there is water, there are plants. It's mostly tufts of grass and windswept bushes, but there is the occasional tree. These aren't the conifers that populate Dathomir's forest. These are the trees of the dead. The thorny ones the witches hang dead bodies from.
Those trees creep him out. Most especially the newest version Sheev finds himself contemplating now. The large tree they stand before has the knotted trunk with peeling bark and sharp, leafless limbs he remembers from yesterday. Thankfully, it has no burial pods attached to it. Neither is it shrouded in mist nor steeped in the smell of decay like the graveyard in the forest. But somehow, this random specimen that guards the entrance to a darkened cave strikes Sheev as the creepiest tree of all.
It's not so much how the tree appears, he decides, but how it feels to his mind.
"Here we are." Lilith gestures to the cave entrance.
"This is it?"
"Yes."
"This place is strong with the Force." Sheev breathes the words aloud, like the revelation they are.
Lilith nods solemnly. "All entrances are." Watching him, she posits, "All your technology is insignificant next to the power of the natural world. Life cannot be contained. The Force will not be limited. Just like it cannot be divided into opposing sides." It's yet another of her statements of principle.
"Entrance . . ." Sheev repeats her word as he eyes the cave sheltered by the spooky tree. "So . . . I'm supposed to go in?"
"Yes. But before you do, let me show you something." Lilith waves a hand at the rock cliff wall beside them. The gesture produces a spray of magic green mist that dissolves in seconds to reveal a large mural painting.
That wasn't there before. Sheev squints at the colorful depiction of a trio of persons. He's no art historian, but he recognizes the saintly halos and stars around their heads as religious iconography. The artwork is clearly sacred in nature.
The Mother Witch explains, "I keep it hidden to protect it. The elements are harsh. They will erode it." She looks to him expectantly. "Like it?"
"Indeed." He dutifully admires the painting. It's pretty, he supposes, but nothing special to his eye.
Lilith keeps watching him closely. "Recognize it?" she asks hopefully.
The mural? "No. Should I?"
The Mother Witch looks disappointed. "I'm told there are replicas of this imagery in the oldest Jedi temples. I thought perhaps it might survive in ancient Sith lore as well . . . as a lingering reminder that all traditions of the Force—both the current Jeddai faiths-share a common past in the Old Ways . . ."
"Who are they?" Sheev asks of the people in the picture.
"Those are our forebears I told you about, the Celestial Ones who ruled on Peridea. Here is the Brother." She points to the younger man on the right with the raised clenched fist. "This is our goddess ancestor, the Sister." She indicates to the woman on the left with the owl on her shoulder. "And this is their Father." Lilith gestures to the stern old man who stands between them.
"Where is the Mother?" Sheev asks. There must be a mother.
"The Mother was cast out."
"Cast out?" That's an unexpected twist. So much for all Lilith's talk of a bygone, halcyon realm. Apparently, all was not perfect in witch heaven after all. "Why?" Sheev presses.
Lilith laments, "Even the queen of the stars can fall victim to an unforgiving man. The universe can be unfairly harsh on women."
"Not here." Dathomir is thoroughly feminist. Women rule.
Lilith confirms, "That is by design. We honor the first Mother's struggle . . . and her attitude. In the end," Lilith muses with a wry grin, "Mother Abeloth regretted nothing. But I have often wondered whether if she were allowed to remain with her family, would things have been different? Maybe we would all be living happily ever after on Peridea still, and the universe would be in harmony . . ."
Whatever. Sheev doesn't put much faith in legends and fairytales. "The painting looks very old."
"It is. We don't call them the Old Ways for nothing," Lilith replies. She brags, "We witches know things the founders of the Jedi Order refused to acknowledge and the ancient Sith long forgot."
That's precisely the sort of knowledge Sheev is desperate to learn. "Will you teach me?" he renews his request. Sure, he's being overeager. But he's not too proud to beg where power is concerned.
"If you are brave enough to confront your fate in the cave, then yes." Lilith eyes his saber meaningfully. She's silently calling him craven for insisting on taking it.
Well, fuck that. Because he's not going into a spooky cave guarded by a scary grave thorn tree unarmed.
Sheev turns back to his unappealing destination. Warily, he asks, "What's in there?"
"Only what you take with you."
He doesn't like the sound of that. Irritated by her cryptic evasion, he pushes back. "What's really in there?"
"Truth and fear."
"I see." Well, shit. Sheev gulps.
"There is no physical danger," Lilith assures him.
The statement doesn't comfort him. This is a another test, Sheev realizes. It's a test, and he needs to make a strong showing to impress lest the Mother Witch deem him unworthy of her best magic. So, like it or not, he's going into that fortune-telling Force cave. And, unfortunately, he must do it unarmed.
"Very well. Hold this." Sheev hands Lilith his lightsaber.
"Good call," she approves, as she accepts the weapon. Did that gesture earn him some goodwill? Not enough, evidently. For Lilith smirks openly, "Don't say I didn't warn you." She's enjoying making him nervous.
Whatever. He'll show her the determined composure of a Sith Lord. Sheev now strides confidently towards the creepy cave like it's a Senate conference room after a successful legislative floor vote.
As he ducks down into the cave, the last thing he hears is the Mother Witch calling, "I will be waiting for you," followed by a very witchy-sounding cackle.