Work Text
Mortals. So tiresome.
Raphael sighed as he played with the golden chalice between his fingers, twirling the stem before taking a long sip of wine. He sat in the corner of the politician’s great hall, observing the ludicrous banquet before him. He lost count of how many of these wretched dinners he’s had to attend. Keeping up appearances. And for what? Silly little souls that didn’t amount to anything.
His eyes slowly moved across the candle lit scene before him. A gaggle of the city-state’s most famous high ranking officials flooded the room, indulging themselves in the overflowing barrels of wine, rich sweets, and succulent meats stacked to the ceiling. Dukes, Duchesses, City Officers… fools, the lot of them.
The air was buzzing with slimy scheming and whispers of menacing manipulations, the rank smell of lust lingering above the heads of the guests. A gaudy band occupied the other end of the room, a bard sang a flat tune at the top of their lungs that made even Raphael’s skin crawl.
He unfortunately knew everyone, their deepest darkest secrets, what fuelled their nightmares, what got their lips salivating. He couldn’t escape the desperation. There were more important things to attend to. The Crown. His plans. And yet… here he was. Another wasted evening in Baldur’s Gate.
A fat faced Duke approached Raphael, about to burst from the seams as he bowed, muttering some pleasantries.
Ah, Alistair. Signing your eldest away to relieve those crippling debts. How original. Raphael clenched his teeth as he bowed in return.
“How are your accounts as of late, Alistair? Plentiful I hope.” Raphael grinned.
The Duke blushed and quickly nodded, his sagging cheeks swung along with the movement. He whispered a messy thank you before disappearing back into the crowd.
Raphael snickered to himself. Imbecile.
His eyes soon stopped, fixating on a woman he didn’t recognise. Raphael nearly missed her, she seemed to blend into the shadows. Her face was long and pale, her auburn hair loose and flowing to her thin waist. She was dressed eloquently but like her face, the design was plain. Her brows furrowed as those dark eyes darted across the room like search lights, until locking eyes with Raphael.
Raphael’s eyes twinkled, his grasp on the chalice tightening. The woman’s expression didn’t change as they stared at each other. What a curious new creature.
Their moment was interrupted when a large man approached the woman. He swayed, leaning a hand on the wall to balance himself. He took his other hand and grabbed the woman’s cheeks, pushing her head against the wall. The man’s face grew redder as he shouted at her. Whatever he was expressing, it was inaudible over the idle party chatter and the bard’s horrendous music.
The man took the woman by the hair and pulled her out of the room, causing a riptide to tear through the other party guests. None of them seemed to care about the lovers quarrel, as the hole the man created soon filled back up again.
Raphael finished the last of his wine, placing the empty chalice on the table before slithering through the crowd, a slight pep in his step. Alas… some fun.
Raphael’s feet floated over the dark marble tiles, his pulse quickened, excited about what he might find ahead of him. The castle halls grew quieter the further he slinked away from the banquet. Finally free of that Bard’s vile performance. He really did need to take care of that so-called musician.
The quiet didn’t last long however, the angry man’s shouts now reverberated through the passageway.
“Yo-you’re g… go… going to w-w-ish you were ne-never born after th-this…I wi-will kill yo-u AND you-you’re bloody family!” The man bellowed, his slurred speech barely comprehensible.
“Yoland! Stop this madness, pl–” The woman’s pleas were interrupted as she screamed out in pain.
The shouts muffled and Raphael slowed his pace, keeping to the shadows. Ahead he watched as the man called Yoland kicked open the doors to the Duke’s library and threw the woman inside. Yoland stumbled in after her.
Raphael crept, peeking in through the open doorway. Yoland had the woman pinned up against a bookshelf, holding her by the throat. She squirmed in his arms.
“You b…bel-belong to ME!” Yoland hissed.
The woman reached behind her, desperately trying to grab on to a book, to something. She managed to grab a small bust of the Duke, slamming it against Yoland's face. Yoland released her and clutched his head. The woman fell to her knees, gasping for air. She quickly crawled away but Yoland lunged after her. The two wrestled each other on the floor until Yoland was on top, ripping at her dress and pulling at her hair.
“NO!” The woman shouted and lifted a leg into the air, clawing for her right boot. Raphael raised an eyebrow. Clever girl, no need to intervene after all.
She struggled to pull out a small dagger hidden deep in her boot, nearly losing her grip on the hilt as she dug it into the back of Yoland. He screamed in agony and attacked her harder, hitting her head against the floor. She stabbed again and again and again until Yoland's movements slowed and he soon quieted, dying on top of her with a demeaning grunt.
The woman whimpered as she lay under the corpse. It took her a few minutes but she managed to wiggle her way out from under him, still clinging on to the dagger. She rose to her feet, standing over the corpse.
Raphael straightened his posture, running his fingers through his hair to check all was in order. Showtime.
“My, my… what have we here?”
The woman spun around, her hand shook like a twig caught in a tempest as she held the bloody dagger at Raphael.
“Surely you aren’t going to use that on me?”
She backed away but stumbled over the corpse. She fell on her backside and the dagger flew from her hands, sliding near Raphael’s feet.
“Tut tut, I come as a friend, not an enemy.” Raphael took a step forward, he held his right hand to his heart, pledging his allegiance.
“Who are you? One of Yoland's bloody goons?”
Raphael couldn’t help but laugh. Rather loudly.
“Oh, oh my dear, I am sorry. Please excuse the rudeness. This is unbecoming of me. Too heavy on the wine this evening.” Raphael cleared his throat. “No, no, my name is Raphael. And I am very much at your service.”
Raphael bowed. He paused before taking a step to retrieve the dagger. He heard the woman’s heart stop beating as she held her breath, her eyes growing wider. She grabbed a thick book and held it in front of her like a shield. Raphael knelt down, slowly, as if he was approaching a rabid animal. He turned the blade around in his hands, so that the hilt now faced the woman.
“Please… I insist.”
She remained silent. Despite Raphel’s kind gesture, she moved further away from him until her back hit against the far bookshelf.
“What do you want?” She asked.
Raphael looked down at the large corpse in the room, the pool of blood getting closer to his pointed leather boots.
“This Yoland is going to be missed, surely. His friends, or what did you call them? Goons? Yes, his goons will be coming soon. How will you manage?”
The woman swallowed, staring intensely at Raphael. Her hair was dishevelled now, half of her face covered in blood and her dress nearly ripped in two. How delicious. Like a direwolf backed into a corner. He could smell the rich fear oozing from his new prey. He was so close. Just a little more patience. He could wait, especially after such a drab evening.
“What do you suggest then?”
“I’m only a passerby, helping a lost soul in need of some help.”
Raphael placed the dagger on the floor and snapped his fingers. A burst of flame revealed a silk handkerchief in his hands. He carefully removed the blood from his fingertips, going over every inch of his palm, careful not to miss a spot. He snapped his fingers again and the handkerchief disappeared.
“A… warlock?”
“I’m something far better than that.”
Shouts soon came from the hallway, multiple gruff voices calling out for Yoland. Raphael and the woman continued to stare at each other as the echoes got louder, the words becoming more coherent.
“Tick, tock. The goons fast approach.”
Rapheal extended his hand once more. The woman paused before accepting Raphael’s invitation. Raphael’s lips curled into a cheeky smile as he looked deep into her eyes.
“That will do. Thank you.”
The instant their hands touched, Raphael snapped his fingers and the two were engulfed in a warm, welcoming inferno. It was only for an instant but the flames dropped like a curtain revealing his central chamber. He stepped away from the woman and approached a roaring fireplace, standing beneath a portrait. He turned to face her with a grin, lifting his hand in a sweeping gesture, indicating the walls around him.
“Welcome, my dear, to the House of Hope!”
The empty chamber echoed his welcoming words. The room was spotless, the table neatly filled with a variety of food and drink, to ease the tension of any weary guest. Yes, less opulent than the banquet this evening but far better in quality.
The woman took a moment to balance herself, leaning against the table. Her cheeks were flushed and a gloss of sweat covered her forehead. She surveyed her surroundings and her eyes darted to the painting behind Raphael.
"Ah, the painting. Yes, I had it commisioned many moons ago. One of my favourite pieces yet." Raphael turned to admire it as well, placing a proud hand on his hip before turning his attention back to the woman.
The woman’s grip on the table tightened. Her eyes darted over the glistening horns, the massive wings, and the sharp claws of the painting’s subject. She looked at Raphael in horror and then back at the painting again, looking at the flames lapping around the Devil depicted in the artwork.
“Yo… you…”
The woman collapsed. Before her body could hit the floor, Raphael snapped his fingers and the woman dangled inches from the ground, her knotted hair softly grazing his polished floors.
Raphael flicked his wrists and the woman flew into his arms.
Must be the heat. Raphael smirked as he delicately carried his new creature across the chamber to a large chaise lounge. He lowered her slowly into a comfortable position, eyeing her hungrily.
"And you didn't even tell me your name. No matter, my sweet, I shall find out soon enough."
Indeed, the Devil looked forward to hearing what she had to offer.