Burning hot embers settled around your feet, singeing the path forward as the flames licked up your spine. Pain, burning hot and ever-present, settled deep within your bones, threatening to set your very soul ablaze.
You'd always sort of wondered what the hells were like. After you defeated the Elder Brain, you'd temporarily considered following Karlach back to Avernus, merely because you were mortified at the prospect of her being alone. Such thoughts were vanquished, however, the moment you saw your love's porcelain skin cracking under the sunlight. Your feet hadn't been nearly fast enough for your liking as you darted after him, soothing your warm hands over his skin as he hid in the shadows. From there you'd promised to remain at his side forevermore, or at least as much of 'forever' as you could offer.
Perhaps an afterthought of your curiosity, however, the hells was surely where you stood in this moment. You recognized this place, you thought, nose crinkled at the stench of sulfur in the air. Music, familiar and exuberant, floated throughout the halls, tainting every step you took.
Somehow, you'd ended yourself up in the House of Hope. Or someone had brought you here.
Such someone chuckled behind you, footsteps dull against the carpeted floor as he circled around you. Once, you'd stood here on an arguably even ground- possessing something of value to offer the devil Raphael. Now, you were nearly as valueless as the dirt that had once been toiled beneath your boots, body broken and battered and- was that your femur you could see poking through your skin?
"What a pleasure it is to see you again, my friend." Raphael mused, a nauseating grin permeating his features as he came to rest in front of you. His eyes scanned over your form, stealing any hint of fondness or familiarity from his features. You couldn't have imagined that you looked great, considering you had been stabbed and mutilated by a gang of thieves that had broken into your home only moments earlier.
"But how it is a pity to see you in such a manner." He scoffed, as if your injured presence annoyed him. With a snap of his fingers, your broken and battered body formed itself back into place, including your swollen stomach that had once housed something so dear to you.
"Much better. Ah, a mother's radiance suits you. It seems something from that little vampling of yours has stuck, has it not?" He mused, stepping closer. Your body tensed on instinct, but the devil laughed at such a reaction. With another swipe of his hand, a grand feast filled the table behind him, not to unsimilar from the one he'd tempted you with so many years ago.
"What do you want?" You growled, muscles taught and ready to flee, as if that'd get you anywhere. There was no escape without a ritual circle to cross through, and you severely doubted that was how you arrived here.
Raphael let out a laugh that was nearly deafening, throwing his head back as if you'd just made the most hilarious of jokes. "Is it so rude to offer a meal to an old friend? You are eating for two, are you not? Come, sit." He gestured, and you body complied without an ounce of restraint. Your apatite had been long vanquished alongside the memory of the thief sinking a blade into your stomach, the stout man laughing as you screamed for your husband.
"I do find your end rather... unfortunate, you know. The hero of Baldur's Gate, stricken down by measly thieves." Raphael begins, bringing a goblet of wine to his lips. It's almost black in color, the dark red stain lingering. You feel yourself shudder.
"I don't have anything to give you, devil." You spat, hands reflexively tensed over your stomach. Raphael seemed amused at that, smirking once more.
"Oh, but I do not ask for anything. I merely wish to help an old friend. Tell me, little one, what would you give to see your husband once again?" His smile was dangerous, looking down his nose at you over his wine glass. Your answer, instinctually, was everything. What wouldn't you give to see the man who you'd protected with every fiber of your being?
Raphael hummed, a deep sound that was indicative of his amusement. He sat his glass down on the ornate table, folding his hands as he settled his gaze on you. "I have an offer, old friend. One you'd be most... perceptive to accept." He grinned. Fear and nausea settled in the pit of your stomach, but you couldn't will your vocal chords to form the word, 'no.'
YOU ARE READING
in the stars (and six-feet's never felt so far) - Astarion x Reader
FanfictionIn which Astarion struggles to cope with the loss of the life he could've had with you.
