Chapter Text
“If you have any last words, make them quick. It will only take a minute to finish you.” Raphael’s rage is clearly only barely contained as he, my friends and I take fighting stances. Although between stealing several high-value items, breaking into his home, and having sex with his own personal incubus, I supposed the cambion had every reason to be at least a little angry with us…
“That’s twice as long as Haarlep said it takes you.” I retort quickly before I can think better of it. Immediately, a chorus of my companions' voices comes from behind me:
“Could you not think of a more idiotic thing to say?” scolds Shadowheart.
“Tav! Surely you cannot be so reckless!” Gale chastises.
“Very funny, darling. Almost worth it, even.” Astarion says approvingly.
“You contemptuous creature—” Raphael’s voice booms through the room as his form shifts from human to that of his devil one. He is suddenly taller and broader, with twisted horns atop his head, eyes glowing, and flames bursting from his body. He is undoubtedly terrifying, but even still, an unbidden memory of Astarion and me gossiping about if we find Raphael’s human form or cambion form more attractive comes to my mind. I shake the thought from my head as we prepare ourselves for a battle that we are not likely to survive.
“Master, surely all this isn’t necessary…” says Haarlep, who seems to have simply materialized directly behind Raphael. Haarlep places their hands tenderly on Raphael’s hips and begins to nuzzle into Raphael’s neck. Raphael thrusts his elbow at Haarlep’s face, though the incubus dodges effortlessly.
“Leave us, Haarlep.” Raphael growls, not taking his face away from us, but still addressing Haarlep, “I’ll deal with your punishment later.”
“Promise?” Haarlep purrs, giving a crooked smile. Raphael breaks his concentration on us to give Haarlep a hard glare. “Oh, do not be cross with me.” Haarlep pouts, “It was my duty to keep your little mouse occupied until you returned home. I did only what you would have asked of me.”
“I assure you, I would not have asked for any of what you’ve done. Get out of my sight.” Raphael says, seething. I look back to my companions to see what they are making of the situation unfolding. They all seem as unsure as I am of how to assess this.
“Raphael… Master…” Haarlep says sweetly as they caress Raphael’s cheek, bringing his face to look at theirs. Haarlep’s tone is that of one spouse trying to reason with another about whose turn it is to wash dishes rather than de-escalate a lethal battle, “The little mouse I necessary to your plans, no?”
“Haarlep…” Raphael says in warning, face snapping back to meet that of his… companion? Lover? Employee…?
Raphael and Haarlep begin a fast-paced discussion in what must be Infernal. Shadowheart, who is standing on my left, catches my eye and shrugs. I turn to Astarion, on my right, and Gale behind me, who look just as confused that we aren’t cinders as I am.
“Run for it?” I mouth silently to my companions, wondering if this bizarrely domestic argument is distracting enough that Raphael will not notice if we move quietly and quickly enough.
“Don’t even think about it, mouse.” Raphael says sternly in common as if reading my mind, “There is no corner of this nor any realm that will keep me from hunting you down. No, if you desire to live, you and the rest of your vermin will stay quite put until a decision has been made.” Haarlep whispers something into Raphael’s ear, making him smirk breifly. Haarlep steps back, apparently having accomplished their goal.
Raphael adjusts his posture and addresses our group.
“You have broken into my House of Hope. You have stolen from me. You have ignored my perfectly reasonable and patient offers of negotiation. And yet…” Raphael walks in a circle around our group lazily, holding each of our stares. From the shadows, Yurgir and Korilla appear as well, making it clear: we are surrounded.
“Our history, albeit brief, is a prosperous one. We have helped each other and made good on our promises, have we not?” Raphael stops at Astarion, as if asking him the question before continuing without an answer, “For any other being to have slithered through the cracks and wind up in your position… well, they would not have been fortunate enough to meet my grace after such treachery. But your little band of merry adventurers aren’t most beings, are you?” Raphael stops at Gale now, reaching out to towards his face softly, though not quite touching, “So, the question remains…. What must be done with you?” Raphael continues walking, approaching Shadowheart and tilting his head curiously down at her.
“Is this yet another rhetorical question, devil?” Astarion says, “Because the soliloquies are becoming rather tiresome.” Raphael’s gaze snaps to Astarion now, his slow grin spreading over his face.
“Are they, now?” Raphael says, amused with his own little joke of a question, “I do not wish to waste either of our times, but do answer me this, vampling: if you were in my position, what would be a fitting punishment for a band of thieves such as yourselves?”
There is a brief, tense silence. The truth is, of course, if someone had trespassed our camp, stolen our valuables, and lain with our hypothetical incubus, they would not likely live to tell the tale.
“Our use for the hammer is a brief one. It can be returned.” I say, hoping to talk our way out of this mess.
Raphael’s eyes leave Astarion and come to land on me. In two slow, deliberate steps, the devil stands hovering on the edge of being too close, looking down at me. I do not shy away, do not flinch from his form, though it is not without effort. His eyes scan my face as if trying to read my mind.
Raphael tucks a strand of hair behind my ear. His eyes hold me in place a moment or two longer before walking back, returning to the side of Haarlep, who is watching the scene as if it were a play before them, tail swishing rhythmically. “Very well.” Says Raphael at last, “ I will let you borrow the hammer to complete your task. After all, just as you stated, your use of it will be brief.”
“What’s the angle?” Shadowheart demands, “Nothing comes freely in the hells.”
“No, I suppose it doesn’t.” Raphael muses and taps his chin with a finger as if this thought had only just occurred to him, “The Orphic hammer is quite valuable to me. To lend it to a group of thieving adventurers such as yourselves is quite the gamble, and I prefer to place my bets with confidence. If you expect me to entrust you with such a possession, it seems only fair that we engage in a trade of sorts…”
What sort of trade are you proposing?” Gale asks.
I immediately begin thinking of our most valuable possessions. We have acquired a number of weapons, relics, and armor that could equal or even surpass that of the hammer. Perhaps he will want all of them, but it’s no matter. We can easily part with any or even all of it, if it means we can get the hammer.
“You may borrow my precious hammer, adventure, and in return, I will borrow your precious little leader,” Raphael says, gesturing to… me?
No, that can’t be right.
I look behind me to see what Raphael is indicating, but all I see are my friends, open-mouthed and frantic, looking between the devil and me, trying to reckon with this new proposal.
Shit.