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Chapter Text

The mansion was eerily silent, except for the mournful melody from the bedroom. Adeline stood in the center of the grand chamber, her fingers moving effortlessly over the strings of her violin. She swayed slightly, her body moving with the rhythm. 

The door creaked open behind her, but she didn't stop. The footsteps were unhurried but loud enough to demand attention. There was a shift in the air, a hum of energy that always seemed to follow him. 

"My love," he purred, "Such a haunting melody tonight. You'll have the entire mansion soaked in melancholy and after all I've done to keep things lively".

Her fingers faltered but she caught the note before it soured. She didn't respond, focusing instead on the rising and falling of the bow, letting it consume her. If she spoke or if she looked at him, the spell of the music would shatter. 

But shatter, it must. Her fingers stilled.

"Perhaps my little surprise will lift your spirits. After all, I can't have my treasure looking so tragically uninspired".

There was a wet thud behind her, the sound of a body hitting the floor. Astarion wrapped his arms around her waist, "I've brought you something special. Young, vibrant and untouched by the ugliness of the world. You'll taste the vitality in their blood. That violin of yours deserves a spark of life, don't you think?"

Her hand tightened around the violin's neck, her knuckles whitening. Slowly, she opened her eyes, but she didn't turn to look at him. Instead, her gaze dropped to the red smudges on her fingers, from the last time she fed. She hadn't cleaned them. She hadn't wanted to.

Astarion sighed, theatrical as always, "Come now, darling. I've done all the work for you. All you need to do is... join me for a bite."
His fingers grazed her neck and she froze under the touch. "For me, Adeline," he whispered, "Nothing is more beautiful than watching you give in."

Her body was caught between the pull of his words and the gnawing ache inside her, "Taste it. Let the hunger have its way," he purred, "You feel it, don't you? The rush, the thrill-and I'll be right here to share it with you."

She didn't turn at first. But when she finally did, her eyes met his instead of the body. His crimson gaze burned, full of dark promises. The smile that sent a shiver through her. A smile so commanding it held her there even without the binds of her blood. 

Her gaze dropped to the body - a young man, barely more than a boy. A gag muffled his cries, but his wide eyes screamed loud enough for both of them. She swallowed hard. The hunger was already waking, gnawing at her resolve. It always did. She hated it, hated the way it made her weak, but no matter how many times she swore she wouldn't give in, Astarion always found a way to remind her, she wanted to.

The violin slid from her fingers and clattered to the floor. Astarion smiled, slow and satisfied, "Good girl".

The hunger burned in her chest now, sharp and insistent. She stepped toward the boy, her steps slow and unsteady. Behind her, Astarion observed, with contentment, eager to see her savor the luxuries he laid at her feet.

Adeline knelt beside the young man, her trembling hands reaching for his neck. She hesitated, her fingers brushing against his skin, warm and alive. So heartbreakingly alive. For just a moment, she wanted to scream, to run, to fight him, to fight herself.

"Don't look so tragic, my darling," he swayed. "Embrace it. Let it bring you joy"

With that, she lunged forward. Her teeth pierced his soft skin, and the rush of warmth flooded her senses, drowning her in its intoxicating pull. The blood surged into her, rich and vibrant. It consumed her as much as she consumed it.

She barely registered the sound of Astarion moving beside her until his lips brushed against her temple, "That's it, my darling," he purred. "Isn't he delicious?"

His fangs followed hers, sinking into the opposite side of his neck. The young man gasped weakly, his struggles fading as the two of them fed in a grim, synchronized rhythm. Astarion's hand slid to the back of her neck to anchor her, pulling her closer as they both drank.

"You see? How perfect we are together."

She hated herself for it - for the way her hunger mingled with the need for his approval, for the way she couldn't pull away from either him or the blood.

When she finally released his neck, the man's life drained completely. Astarion's smile was sharp as he leaned closer to her. His thumb brushed against her chin, wiping away a stray drop, before pressing his forehead to hers. Adeline closed her eyes, the taste of the boy's life still on her tongue.

In this moment, there was no hunger, no guilt - only him.

Adeline leaned into Astarion as he straightened, her hands brushing against his chest, body pulled to his like a moth to flame. 

"Astarion," she begged as her fingers curled into the fabric of his shirt, pulling him closer. "Stay."

He sighed, as he gently caught her wrists and pried her hands away, "My love, you know I'd love nothing more than to ravish you right here, but alas... court call."

She frowned, "Court? Since when have you cared for such things?"

"Since the spawn seem incapable of managing even the simplest matters without me. And politics? A tiresome necessity. An endless game, but one I intend to master. Influence the court, shape the city's underbelly, and ensure that no power stands against us. Great things await us, love. Soon, we will have it all."

Tonight there was something different about him. Adeline studied him. The ease in his posture, the satisfaction in his eyes. What had shifted?

His hands lingered on hers as he leaned closer, "You've spoiled me, Adeline. There's nothing I'd like more than to hold you in my arms for eternity. You make everything else feel so... dull by comparison."

"Then stay," she whispered again. Her hunger for him and the blood she just savored, clawed at her insides, making the thought of being without him unbearable.

He cupped her chin, "Tonight," he promised, "When the politics have faded and the spawn are addressed, I'll find you. And then, my love, I'll have you all to myself."

He pressed a kiss to her forehead before pulling back. She let her hands fall to her sides as he straightened, adjusting the collar of his shirt with effortless precision. 

"Try not to miss me too much," he smirked playfully as he moved toward the door.

Adeline watched him go. The vitality that once showed in rare moments now seemed a part of him. Those moments felt sacred then, when she'd offer her neck to him. She remembered the way his steps would have a bounce to them afterward, his smile coming easier. 

Now, it was constant. His ascension had brought him endless vitality, endless confidence, and yet it felt so... different.

She was now alone, with only the suffocating guilt for company. Adeline got up and backed up against the wall, her knees drawn to her chest, blood clinging to her lips and hands. Her violin lay discarded beside her, forgotten in her hunger and guilt.

She didn't dare look at the body again. The hunger was always there, but so was the shame. She envied Astarion's control. Since his ascension, his hunger no longer wrestled with him, it obeyed him.

Then the air shifted, subtle at first.

Then came the warmth, filling the room. 

"Well, this is a sad little tableau, isn't it?"

Adeline's head snapped up, her breath catching as she saw him.

Raphael.

He leaned casually against the doorframe. He looked like he'd been there for hours, watching her unravel.

"Raphael? What are you doing here?"

Why now, after so much time had passed? Did he come to gloat, to remind her of her foolishness, or worse - to collect some debt she hadn't realized she owed him?

"Visiting, of course. Though I must say, I didn't expect to find you quite so... disheveled."

Her jaw clenched as his gaze swept over her, lingering on the blood smeared on her hands. He crouched beside her, "Tsk, tsk," he mocked, reaching out to wipe a streak of blood from the corner of her lips with his thumb. "What would your old self think of this mess?"

She recoiled from his touch, her back hitting the wall. "Don't."

"Still some fight in you, I see," he said, rising to his feet. "Good. I was beginning to worry our little vampling had bled you dry of that, too."

"Why are you here, Raphael?"

He tilted his head, feigning surprise, "Why, to remind you, of course. Once, you spun tales of righteousness, played the savior to the helpless, the so-called hero of Baldur's Gate," Raphael mocked, "And now?", his gaze flicked to the lifeless boy on the floor, "A single word from him, and you'd sink your teeth into anyone he points at. Where's that noble defiance, Adeline?"

Her fists clenched, but she didn't speak.

"Look at you. You don't even recognize yourself anymore, do you?"

He stepped closer, "You'd think one so drunk on his own ascension would know how to wield his most precious treasure. But no, he keeps you tethered, dimmed down."

"Why are you here, Raphael?" 

"To share my progress, of course. Since you so graciously handed me the crown, things have been... eventful. The Hells are in turmoil, the balance of power is shifting, and I find myself quite comfortably at the center of it all."

"You came here just to gloat?".

"Not entirely," he replied, turning to face her fully, "I came to see if there was anything left of the little mouse I once found so... intriguing. The one brimming with potential, so eager to seize every opportunity placed before her. But alas-" his gaze drifted disdainfully to the body, his smirk sharpening like a blade, "this is what remains."

He let the silence stretch before continuing, "You had every advantage - doors opened where walls once stood all but handed to you on a silver platter. And yet, here you are. Gifts, squandered. Potential, wasted. What a disappointment you've become."

Her body went rigid and her breath hitched, but she refused to let him see the tears welling in her eyes.

He took one last, slow look at her, "Clean yourself up, Adeline,".

Then he vanished.

It had been so long since she'd spoken to anyone besides Astarion, his cowering spawn, or the oblivious nobility drifting through the main hall. Raphael's presence, mocking as it was, felt like a strange relief. 

He saw her and he always understood her in a way few ever had. Where her companions were annoyed by his arrogance, she had always been drawn to his theatrics, matching his wit with her own. He was, infuriatingly, often right. And this was no exception.

She was a hollow echo of her former self.

But why had he come? Taking over the Hells couldn't have left him much time for idle visits, could it? There had to be a reason, some sort of game he was playing. Was she a piece on his board? A pawn?

Why her? Why now? And what, if anything, did he truly want?

All the questions drove her insane. She sat down at her vanity table. Trying to find a reflection that wasn't there. Before she could think, her hand clenched into a fist and drove into the glass. She looked at the scattered pieces with longing. 

Chapter Text

Adeline woke up slowly. Astarion lay beside her, his arm over her waist. She turned to face him. He looked serene, his lips showing the barest hint of a smile even in sleep.

He had such a hold on her. She found herself wondering - How much of it was real?

The moment didn't last long. That metallic smell still lingered. The body. It lay crumpled near the corner, forgotten in the aftermath of their passion. Why hadn't anyone cleaned up this mess?

The knock at the door startled her. She sat up slightly, Asterion's arm slipping away with a lazy stretch.

"Always impeccable timing," Astarion sighed.  

One of the spawn shuffled in, her hands trembling, "My lord, shall I... remove it?"

Adeline pulled the sheet around herself. "Yes, dear" she smiled, her voice warmer than it should have been, "Please do."

The spawn hesitated, looking at Astarion.

His expression darkened, "Don't dally, I expected it to be gone by now" he said coldly, waving a dismissive hand.

"And don't think I haven't noticed how dreadfully sluggish you've all become lately. I do hope this isn't your idea of a rebellion? So terribly dull".

The spawn dragged the body out. She avoided Adeline's eyes as she worked. She finished her task quickly. 

And when she closed the door behind her, Astarion leaned in close, "Now, where were we, my love?"

"You don't have to ..."

"Adeline... Don't spoil them. They've grown lazy enough as it is. Your kindness, my love, while endearing, only tempts them to test the boundaries I've set. You know what happens when they do".

She felt smaller under his words but she kept her ground, "they are only doing what you once had to. You were one of them, remember?".

His eyes grew colder. "Do not compare their situation to mine. I give them freedoms. They eat well - not scraps of rats from the gutter. I've never forced them to get on their backs, never flayed them for days just to make a point. They have it easy."

Adeline's shoulders sagged, and she turned her face to the wall. She hated when he spoke like that, as if he had forgotten the torment he endured before his ascension. She regretted comparing him to Cazador that one time; the sting of that insult had been too painful for him to hear her now.

He exhaled sharply, "I am not cruel, Adeline. But they need discipline. And with you by my side, we can be unstoppable, a family."

Family. The word echoed like a painful splinter, reminding her of dreams she no longer allowed herself to hold. The one sacrifice that had nearly tipped the scale. 

Then, with that effortless grace she both loved and hated, he leaned forward, his hand cupping her cheek, tilting her chin until she met his gaze. "There it is again. That tragic little expression of yours."

Before she could pull away, his lips claimed hers, drawing a gasp that he swallowed effortlessly. 

He pulled back, his eyes locking onto hers, "It doesn't suit you, my love. A beautiful thing like you should be smiling. Let me show you."

He began to trail kisses down from her neck. His kisses burned, with a slow descent that left her aching for his touch. His lips continued lower, his hands sliding to her hips to hold her firmly still beneath him.

When he finally settled between her legs, anticipation burned within her, expecting that sweet relief only he could give.

But then he paused.

His red eyes went dark, and for a moment, she forgot how to breathe.

And then, ouch.

She felt the sting of his fangs as they sank into her inner thigh. She shifted slightly, "Don't."

He put his hand firm on her thigh as he held her in place. "Shh, my love. Keep still. Just a taste."

Her body tensed and stilled at his command. The bite was almost enough to turn her off, but she couldn't resist the pull, when his fangs left her and his lips closed in where she wanted them. He dove in, tasted her and teased her with just the right amount of pressure.

Astarion knew how to play her, how to bend her will with the movements of his tongue. He could compel her with a single command, of course, but he rarely needed to. 

He lifted her higher, his arms locked around her thighs. She gasped, her fingers tangling in the sheets as the tension in her chest unraveled, replaced by something hotter, something she hated to need so much. Every calculated flick, crafted not just to please her but to pull her completely under his influence.

He had perfected the craft - taken what was once a weapon forced upon him and turned it into an art. There was no shame in him anymore, no hesitation. He reveled in using his body to remind her, in every way, that she was his.

He quickened his pace as her body arched, eyes snapping shut as she screamed his name and reached the height of her pleasure. Gods, he was irresistible. 

He finally lifted his head, "There now," he said, pressing a kiss to her trembling stomach, "No more gloom, my love."

When she caught her breath, she smiled. A genuine one. 

"That's better. There she is. My radiant consort." 

Then-

His gaze sharpened, She felt him pressing against her mind. Her guard instinctively snapped into place.

He didn't react, not outwardly. Instead, his lips found hers, warm and insistent, as his body pressed her deeper into the mattress.

She arched into him, her hands trailing up his back, pulling him closer. His love, overwhelming, all-consuming, and inescapable.

"Please," she breathed, "Don't stop."

With care, he eased himself into her, his eyes fluttering shut as a guttural moan escaped both their lips.

He started thrusting into her, each movement precise... generous. His hands gripped her hips tightly, grounding her as her fingers dug into his back, clutching at him with an urgency that mirrored his own. 

But there was an unfamiliar softness in his touch that made her uneasy. He held her like something fragile and precious. 

But she didn't want to question it. Not now. Not when he made her feel so cherished, so alive. 

Every kiss, every touch, got her higher and higher, until the pleasure inside her became unbearable. Her moans drowned out all lingering doubts. Her body tightened around him, as he thrust in and out of her with a steady rhythm. 

"You're exquisite," he whimpered, his eyes glowing with affection.  "You're everything, my love."

When he came inside her, the warmth of it only deepened the intimacy of the moment, binding them closer in the glow of their shared ecstasy. He collapsed against her, burying himself into her neck. 

His lips tickled and Adeline's lips curved into a genuine smile. 

But as she caught her breath, her mind was already slipping elsewhere. The warmth of his arms, the passion, it should have kept her in the moment. Instead, a chill ran through her. He drank from me.

She knew how easily he could slip into her mind when their blood intertwined. Whenever he drank from her, she couldn't allow it to wander. And now more than ever, with her mind shifting to last night's visitor.

Astarion's fingers brushed along her side, his touch light and reassuring, but it only deepened her panic. She couldn't let him sense her fear. He was always so attuned to her. 

"Are you all right, my love?" 

"Yes," she said quickly, "Just... catching my breath".

Astarion tilted his head, searching her face. She forced a smile, her lips tightening under the weight of his scrutiny. 

"You're thinking too much. That won't do. You're far too tense for someone who was just screaming my name.".

She dodged his gaze, looking down, "You drank from me. You know I don't like that."

His eyes narrowed as his gaze sharpened. His disapproval hung in the air, unspoken but palpable. Yet, he held his frustration in check.

"You didn't seem to mind it before", his voice low and seductive. "In fact, I seem to recall you rather enjoying it, remember? Those little ... shakes of excitement." 

Adeline stilled beneath him, her heart aching at the memory. Those little shakes of excitement. That was what he called them the first time he leaned in close. When he asked if she enjoyed it when he fed on her. They'd stolen away that night, under the pale moonlight, in a forest clearing. It felt like a lifetime ago - another version of herself entirely.

And now, try as she might, she couldn't force her lips to curve.

Astarion studied her carefully, his expression a mix of irritation and suspicion.

"You've been gloomy for days - I thought the boy would lift your spirits, but then I come home to glass shards scattered across the floor, quite the display, I must admit. You know I'd smash every mirror in this mansion, if it made you laugh. But destruction isn't your style, is it? You don't shatter things."

He leaned in closer, every syllable cutting, "Even last night, after we fucked, you couldn't even muster a proper smile. And this morning?" His gaze sharpened, "I tried to be gentle, to make you feel loved, adored, even. And yet, here you are, sour as ever."

She could feel him, slipping into her mind. He wasn't just accusing her, he was searching. She hated when he fed on her. He could have simply ordered her to reveal her thoughts, and she would have had little choice but to comply. But no, he fed instead, using what was once an intimate act to pry where she did not let him in.

Adeline swallowed hard. His tenderness today was a calculated move, a move to bring her guard down.

He couldn't find out about Raphael.

Deciding to take the offensive, she steeled herself and let out a frustrated sigh, "you want to know what's wrong? Fine. I'm tired, Astarion. Tired of watching you treat your spawn like they're nothing. Two days ago, I had to heal one of them because of your temper!"

His eyes widened briefly in disbelief before narrowing. 

"They need discipline," he sneered. "I've given them freedom, more than any other spawn could dream of. But you... you coddle them. And they've grown defiant because of it."

"They're people," she shot back, her voice rising. "They're not just extensions of your will. You were a spawn once, don't you remember what it felt like? Or have you forgotten everything you used to be?"

She knew how to push his buttons, but regret tugged at her immediately. Had she gone too far? No, the risk of him discovering Raphael's visit was worse than any fury she might provoke now. Still, the fear gnawed at her. What if this was the moment he finally tired of her arguing, compelling her into silence, forevermore?

His expression darkened, his sharp features hardening as her words struck a nerve. But instead of snapping back, he held himself unnervingly still, his control more unsettling than any outburst.

"I've risen above that. I am not who I was, and neither are they".

"What about me, then?" she continued, her voice breaking slightly. "My companions. The people who stood by us, who fought for you, for all of this. I haven't seen them in weeks because you've forbidden it."

She was no longer steering the conversation to distract him. She was letting out steam, that had been brewing for months. 

He stood upright, his intense stare revealing just how much anger he was restraining,  "Because they're a bad influence. Every time you speak to them, you come back like this - defiant, questioning me. You're mine, Adeline. I won't have them twisting your mind."

"It's not fair", she cried. 

"Fair? And here I thought you appreciate everything I do for you," his tone biting as he turned to face her fully, his arms animated, "Spawn to cater to your every whim, servants to bow and scrape so you don't lift a finger. I've given you every luxury imaginable. All the blood you could ever want, fresh and warm, straight from the prey I bring home just for you".

He leaned in closer, pointing an accusatory finger at her, "And yet here you are, sulking like some ungrateful wretch because I deny you your precious friends. You think I can't do worse? Oh, my love, you know I can".

She said nothing, as if what he might do no longer mattered, like she was curious just how far he was willing to go.

"Enough," he barked, "I don't have to justify myself to you. You belong to me, and I won't tolerate this... this defiance."

He drew in a measured breath, his movements tense as he began to pace the floor, "I need to think... About what to do with you."

Her breath stopped as the door slammed shut behind him, leaving her alone. She sat there for a while. Utterly drained, by the shifting emotions of this morning. 

~

Astarion paced through the halls. He needed air. Perhaps he'd bring something back for her, something sweet. A gift to remind her of what she had, of the life he had crafted for her, for the two of them.

Chapter Text

Adeline stood in the grand dining hall. The spawn moved silently around her, their heads bowed, their movements careful. She tried to meet their eyes, but they darted away the moment she glanced in their direction. They knew she and Astarion had fought. 

Her gaze settled on a young girl, Mina. Turned only weeks ago, she was still fragile, her wide eyes darting nervously around the room. Adeline offered her a  smile. But Mina quickly looked away, her fingers tightening on the tray as if bracing herself for a reprimand. She had spent hours coaxing the girl out of her shell, helping her navigate her new existence. But now, Mina avoided her like the rest. No - more so than the rest. 

She drifted aimlessly through the corridors, brushing her fingers along the cool stone walls. Everything here was taken care of - her meals prepared, and her whims attended to before she could voice them.

She had read every book in the library. And when Astarion brought new ones, the thrill soured by the memory of Gale. 

She returned to her bedroom, her violin resting where she had left it. But the thought of playing it felt hollow. What was there to compose? The fleeting inspiration she felt when performing no longer came to her. The audience was always the same:  politicians or ignorant guests. And she was always left to wonder whether they would leave as pawns in Astarion’s grand vision or as their next meal.  

Looking out over the mansion, she couldn’t deny just how far he had come.  

Once, he thrived in chaos. Careful, methodical steps had never been his style. The sweet chaos he once embraced was replaced by calculated precision. Politics and nobles, with their intricate rules and rigid structures, no longer seemed to dissuade him. And yesterday, his focus was even sharper than before. His ambitions clearer.  

Adeline sighed and dropped down in bed. Her fingers touched the mark on her thigh, where Astarion had fed on her only hours ago. Her mind was now allowed to wander and wander it did.  

Raphael. What was he doing here yesterday? What did he want? 

Her mind lingered on a memory from a night long ago: 

That night, Adeline craved solitude. She had always thrived in the company of others, a naturally extroverted soul. Known to rally spirits when hope seemed dim. A bard's pride and joy. But that night, leadership had weighed heavily on her. Somehow, through charm or sheer force of will, she had become the leader of their merry, mismatched band. 

It still confused her. She was no paragon like Wyll, no sage like Gale, and certainly not as unyielding as Lae’zel. And yet, when decisions had to be made or they needed someone to confide in, the others turned to her. 

When the fire burned low, and the others fell asleep in their tents, she slipped away for a private bath. The water was cool against her skin and for a moment, she felt like herself again -  Free and unburdened. 

Suddenly, her mind stilled - a suspicious, unnatural quiet of a tadpole that no longer squirmed. 

A neat little trick of his.

She turned her head to see him leaning casually against a tree.

“Ever the optimist, I see,” Raphael smirked, “Tell me, little mouse… how long before your tangled little web strangles you?”.

“Interrupting a lady during her bath?” she said, raising an eyebrow, as she straightened her posture, not the very least ashamed of her naked body, “My my, I thought you had better manners than that."

Raphael chuckled, stepping forward with measured grace, “And so, I do. But it’s not every day I find you away from your merry band. If anything, your solitude feels like an invitation.” 

She smiled, masking her disappointment that his eyes didn’t stray where it shouldn’t, “How very presumptuous of you, Raphael” 

“Presumptuous?” He tilted his head, amusement dancing in his eyes as he knelt and picked up her robe, holding it out with a flourish. “I prefer to call it... astute. Go on, finish your bath.” 

Adeline studied him for a moment, her hesitation brief, before taking the offered robe with a nod. She wrapped it around herself and tied the sash securely.

“You can turn around now.”

He did, slowly and with a smile. “Much better,” he said, folding his hands behind his back. “Now, I trust you’ve no further distractions?” 

She crossed her arms, “What do you want, Raphael? Surely you didn’t come all this way to watch me bathe?”

“To check on you, of course. You’ve been … occupied. Halsin’s brilliance hasn’t delivered more than tired promises, has it? And Auntie Ethel? I imagine you’ve found her tastes rather... unsavory.” 

Adeline raised an eyebrow, “Her … ‘creative’ methods didn’t quite appeal, so I thought it better to end her. Though I must admit, her décor was almost as charming as yours.” 

Raphael chuckled, low and exaggerated, “There’s that silvered tongue of yours. But tell me, little mouse, how long do you think you can keep this act up? Your ragtag troupe hangs on your every word, clinging to the hope you so expertly spin. Yet here you are, drowning in doubt. Doesn’t exactly inspire confidence, now does it?” 

“Drowning in doubt? That’s dramatic, even for you, Raphael. A bath doesn’t mean I’m falling apart - cure hunting proves dirty work.”

“Dirty work indeed,” Raphael replied, “But even so, I see the cracks forming. Your merry band hangs their every hope on you, and you - well, you’re out here washing away your worries while the weight of their trust drags you under.” 

Her smile didn’t falter. “And you’re here to offer me a devil’s deal, is that it?” 

He chuckled, shaking his head. “Not tonight, my dear. No contracts, no soul-binding promises. I simply came to remind you of what you already know: you need to keep your fragile little troupe together. And you” he gestured at her, “you’ve proven to be quite the capable leader. Charismatic, dare I say… inspiring. A true performer, rallying them to stand tall when the odds should have crushed them.  Don’t think I haven’t kept my eye on you.” 

Adeline tilted her head, her smirk widening, “I didn’t realize I was entertaining you, Raphael. If I’d known I had an audience, I might’ve put on a better show.” 

“Entertaining as you may be, charming in your own reckless way, you’ve already gotten in enough trouble to keep me amused. But don’t mistake my amusement, for lack of concern. You can’t afford to falter now”.

Her smirk faded, “What do you care if we falter? I thought devils preferred when us ‘mortals’ make a mess of things.” 

“Oh, I’ve seen more mortal messes than you could imagine. Chaos has its allure, but only when it’s controlled… directed. Your kind tumble into ruin without the slightest idea of how to rise again. But that’s exactly why I'm here.”

He bowed with a theatrical flourish, before continuing, “When Priestess Gut was ready to flay you, who was it that stepped in to save you from your mess? Ah, yes, my dear Corilla, sent by none other than yours truly". 

“So, what, you’re rooting for me? For us?” 

“Let’s just say I have a vested interest in your success. You may think yourself the weakest among your companions, but without you, they’d fall apart - unravel like a worn-out tapestry”.

She studied him, a playful smile curving her lips as she sauntered closer, her fingers toying idly with the edge of her sash, “And you don’t like unraveling, do you?” 

Raphael’s smirk deepened, his gaze sweeping over her with a slow, deliberate indulgence. “Ah, Adeline,” he purred, his tone condescending, “Such a bold little mouse, aren't you?". 

He took a measured step forward, his presence irresistible as he leaned closer, "It’s a valiant effort, dear. But I am no idle tryst to join your collection of conquests. Do yourself a favor - keep the robe on.”

Adeline’s smile faltered, a flicker of defeat crossing her features before she could mask it. Raphael chuckled, savouring her reaction.

“Now, now, don’t fret. I know you’re not accustomed to hearing ‘no,’ and believe me, it’s not for lack of charm. You’re a delightful little thing, truly.” He paused, letting his gaze linger for a heartbeat too long. “But alas, I am a busy man.” 

His gaze roamed her face. “That boldness of yours, though... it has carried you far, hasn’t it? But be warned  - boldness can easily sour into desperation.” 

His voice chilled, “desperation leads to poor choices. Trusting the wrong people, for instance. Like that dream visitor of yours.”

Her expression darkened, the teasing spark fading, “He’s helped us.”

“For now,” Raphael countered, “But their help comes at a cost. Ask yourself, Adeline, what do you truly know of them? Their motives? Their endgame? Or have you simply decided not to ask?” 

“You think they’re guiding you. But ask any one of your companions what he looks like and each one of them will paint you a different picture. Don’t you find that curious?”

“So, I suppose you’re the one I should listen to instead?” she shot back, forcing her voice to remain steady. 

“My voice, Adeline - it’s the only one worth heeding. I’ve been nothing but honest about what I am... After all, what’s better than a devil you don’t know?”

“A devil you do,” she replied softly.

"Exactly. Nevertheless, if you can’t bring yourself to trust me, then trust that stubborn will of yours - the one that’s dragged you this far despite the odds. It’s that tenacity your little band clings to."

Raphael leaned in, his presence so close it made her pulse quicken, her fingers curling as an agonizing flush of warmth spread through her, “But when that resolve begins to waver - and it will - well, you know this devil’s penchant for lending a hand.”

And then he was gone, leaving behind only the frustrating ache of where his warmth had been. She wondered – did he do that on purpose? But as she made her way back to camp, she felt just a little steadier, a little more confident.

Her brow furrowed as her present surroundings bled into the memory.

Hope, she thought bitterly, was a devil’s oddest gift. And yet, hadn’t she clung to it when her faith in herself had wavered?

But what does he want now?

Back then, it was the crown. He needed them alive - he needed her to keep them united. And he needed her to distrust the emperor, to see the temptation of the Orphic Hammer.

And somehow, he had succeeded. Against reason, against the pleas of her companions, and against her own better judgment, she had said yes.

This time, the devil’s game was harder to read. He had returned, once again at her lowest. 

Whatever could he want? 

Chapter Text

When Astarion returned, the weight of their fight hung around like an unwelcome guest. He entered the room with his usual confidence, but his steps were softer than usual.

Adeline’s hands fidgeted in her lap. She didn’t look up from where she sat by the window. 

“Darling,” he began, “I’ve been thinking, and I do believe I owe you an apology.”

Her brows furrowed deeply as she tilted her head towards him, “You... do?”

Astarion smiled, “I do. I may have... overstepped. Feeding on you to glimpse into those little hidden corners of your mind… it wasn’t my finest moment.” He tilted his head, studying her reaction, “I promised you once. That your thoughts would remain your own. And while feeding isn’t quite the same as a direct order, I imagine it felt just as invasive.”

She blinked rapidly, her gaze darting to her sides before returning to him.

“I won’t promise not to indulge again. I do so enjoy tasting you, but if I want answers, I’ll be sure to ask… politely next time.”

He reached out, brushing a strand of hair from her face, his expression… tender?

“I only wanted to know what’s been eating away at you lately, dear. Is that such a terrible thing?”

Adeline froze for a second, unsure how to respond. 

Then she exhaled, a genuine smile tugging at her lips despite the slight furrow that remained in her brow, “I... suppose I forgive you."

Astarion’s smile curved into something calmer, as he sat down and held her hands in his “Of course you do, my love. Forgiveness becomes you.” His smile turned wry, “And besides, I’ve seen the way you look at me. You never stood a chance."

Moments like this told her he was still in there - deep down. 

She smiled and shook her head, “You’re impossible.”

“And yet, here you are. Still at my side. Still mine.”

Her smile faltered for the briefest moment, but she masked it quickly.

She wondered - had he forgotten the reality of their bond? That she couldn't actually leave. 

“I’ve decided. You’ve been confined too long. While I prefer you close and safe within these walls, I believe tonight calls for a bit of adventure. Join me for a hunt”.

The idea sent a thrill of excitement through her as all her senses intensified. She dreaded the guilt that always followed, but she loved the thought of being out there with him, away from the mansion. 

“I’ll take that glint in your eyes as a yes”.

“I’d love to go, truly,” she replied but her voice carrying a hesitant note. Her fingers brushed against his chest, as her eyes lifted to his, pleading. “But perhaps this time we could choose someone… less likely to be missed?”

The request lingered between them, “Very well, my love. You pick the targets. The spawn will feed well tonight”

The thought of Astarion, in his own way, caring for the happiness of those under their roof, spread a warmth through her chest and a genuine smile to her face. 

“I'll let you get ready, dear”, Astarion said as he left to address his spawn.

She dashed to her wardrobe, pulling open the doors with eager hands. Dresses and silks lined the space, but she bypassed them without a glance. Tonight called for something different. She reached deeper, pulling aside layers of fabric until her hand brushed something rougher - the texture of her old armour.

Her thoughts drifted to Lae’zel, to the way moved with precision and purpose, teaching Adeline the same. It had been a gift - practical, but laced with love, the way Lae’zel knew how to show it. Her grip tightened briefly before she let the armour slip back into place. She needed something that didn’t lie.

Behind her, she heard Astarion’s voice echoing as he addressed the spawn. For once, she allowed herself to tune him out.

She slipped out of her dress, when the shift in the air stilled her movement. The room grew unnervingly quiet. Her pulse quickened, and her fingers froze on the hem of her blouse.

“Not again,” she muttered under her breath, refusing to turn around.

“Now, now,” came the familiar drawl, smooth and maddening. “That’s no way to greet an old friend.”

Adeline spun around, clutching the blouse to her chest. There he was - Raphael, leaning lazily against the edge of the vanity table. His eyes glinted with amusement, taking in her state of undress with a smirk that was all too pleased with itself.

“You can’t be here. Not now. Astarion - he’s right outside!”

“Oh Adeline, I do so enjoy being your little secret.”

He straightened, stepping forward with deliberate ease, “But really, there’s no need to fret. I’ve been keeping an eye on things. Your darling Astarion will be occupied for a while longer - he hardly ever tires of hearing himself talk.”

She took a step back, "You’ve been watching us?”

“Of course. What kind of devil would I be if I didn’t keep tabs on my favourite wayward hero? Your mansion is quite the theatre, you know. Astarion’s promises, his honeyed words - oh, he’s quite the actor, isn’t he?”

Adeline’s jaw tightened, her voice steady and biting. “It's not an act. We love each other – something you wouldn’t understand”.

Raphael’s smirk deepened as he let out a low, rich laugh, “My dear, sweet Adeline. Love?” He let the word linger, as if tasting it.

“You think he loves you?” Raphael continued, as he stepped closer, “Devils may not be experts on love... that is true. But we know liars. And Astarion? He doesn’t love. He takes. He devours. And you, my dear, in all your beautiful naivety, allow him."

He was wrong. Astarion could have put her in some forgotten corner of the mansion and starved her until she begged for his forgiveness. He could have ordered her into silence forever more. But he didn’t. Instead, he apologized. He. Apologized. And if Raphael hadn't wormed his way into her mind, she never would have instigated the fight to begin with.   

“Would you look at that - your thoughts fluttering about like frightened sparrows,” he taunted. “So desperate to believe, clinging to scraps like they are jewels. It’s almost endearing, in its futility.”

“Stop,” Adeline snapped as her emotions threatened to spill over. “Just… stop messing with my head. I don’t want to hear it!”

“Oh my, such fire. You used to have such fun with me, reveling in the dance of our little exchanges. But now? Now you snap, tremble, and retreat.”

His eyes narrowed, his tone softening, “What’s changed, hmm? Could it be that I’ve struck a nerve? That somewhere, deep down, you know I’m right?"

"What do you want, Raphael?”

“Doesn’t it just gnaw at you? That desperate little itch, not knowing what I’m after. The endless question, spinning round and round in that pretty head of yours.” He paused, letting the silence stretch before adding with a lazy shrug, “Perhaps I simply find you… entertaining.”

“Answer my question.”

He sighed dramatically, spreading his hands in mock surrender, “Patience, dear. All in good time."

"Tell me." 

“Adeline, that fire on display, is hardly convincing. You’re such a pitiful little thing. But even the most broken toys can be... repurposed.”

Adeline’s eyes narrowing as she studied him, confusion and scrutiny warring within her. Repurposed?  What use could he possibly have for her? He had made it painfully clear how pathetic he thought she was.

He stepped back, “But don’t let me keep you from your little hunt. Run along, play your part, indulge in his little charade. I’ll be there when the curtain falls.”  

And before she could respond, he snapped his fingers, and he was gone in an instant. The scent of cherries and sulphur were the only traces of his presence.

She couldn’t risk Astarion coming to fetch her. Raphael’s scent was still present, and the last thing she needed was for Astarion to sense it. Her hands moved quickly, pushing through the hangers in her wardrobe until she settled on something simple and practical.

She grabbed the doorknob, her hand hovering there for a moment. A deep breath steadied her, the lingering tension in her shoulders easing slightly. Raphael’s words still echoed in her mind but she pushed them away. Not tonight.

For the first time in what felt like an eternity, she felt.. joy. Astarion had apologized. Usually, she had to settle for silence, until he decided to forget whatever transgression had sparked his ire. Or worse. And each time, she wondered if this would be the moment he finally snapped.

She wasn’t going to let Raphael ruin this night.

Chapter Text

She stepped out of the mansion, breathing in the fresh air. By her side, Astarion stood with ease, his beauty, ever so hard to deny.

“Ready, my love?”

She nodded, “Lead the way.”

He offered his arm, and she took it as they ventured into the city. It had been weeks since they last hunted together, and despite wanting to find relief in that, her thoughts were darker than she wanted to admit.

This neighborhood was the kind of place that fit the moral line she tried to cling to.

And yet, there was a darker part of her that found this – boring - a task rather than the fine art it could be. She missed the subtle thrill of luring a victim, weaving words to pull them willingly into her grasp. It was an ugly truth, but it was hers.

“Well, my darling, the choice is yours. Who will it be?”

Adeline scanned the streets, her mind weighing the options before her. Find someone who wouldn’t be missed, someone whose death might even benefit the city.

“There,” she nodded toward a figure skulking in an alleyway. The man was watching the street with his hand on the handle of a hidden blade.

“Should we give him a head start?”, Astarion smirked.

“Wait. Allow me.” 

Adeline stepped ahead of Astarion. The man hadn’t noticed them yet. She glanced at Astarion, and he gave her a subtle nod - permission granted, and his eyes sparked in curiosity of how she'd play it. 

She approached, her voice soft and inviting when she called out, “Excuse me?”

The man startled, spinning to face her, his hand rushing to his blade. But when his eyes met hers, he stopped. Her expression was wide-eyed and hesitant, the kind of look that softened the most suspicious of men.

“I - I don't mean to bother you, but… I think someone’s following me.” She glanced over her shoulder, feigning fear, “I just - I didn’t know who else to ask.”

The man hesitated. He wasn’t a fool, but he wasn’t immune to the thrill of playing the hero either. His eyes scanned the shadows she motioned to.

“Please,” she whispered, urging him to hurry. 

Behind her, Astarion lingered in the shadows. He had always admired the way she could spin a story. Now, freed from the pesky restraint of virtue, she was truly a marvel to behold. He could have him charmed or rendered unconscious with a snap of his fingers, but he let Adeline have her fun.

“Fine,” he relented, jerking his head toward the alley. “Over here”.

From the shadows, Astarion’s gaze remained fixed on them, his eyes vigilant. He knew well enough that if the man proved troublesome, Adeline could handle herself. A single pitch of her voice could inflict laughter or banish him to another plane entirely. She was, after all, a bard of great skill, even if those skill had been dormant for a while now.

And yet, it wasn’t enough to ease his mind. He rarely took her on hunts like this - not because he doubted her abilities, but because losing her was a risk he refused to take – no matter how small.

“Thank you,” she breathed, her relief so convincing it made his chest puff with confidence. The man’s focus remained fixed ahead, oblivious to the swirling mist that began to surround him. Astarion emerged from the shadows shortly, the mist blending into his form elegantly.

Before the man could react, Astarion was behind him, one arm around his throat while the other covered his mouth.

“Hush now,” Astarion whispered as the man struggled uselessly. “No need to make a scene.”

Adeline stepped closer. His pulse pounded in her ears. She could feel the hunger clawing at her, demanding to be sated. No one was here to judge her or to hold her back - only Astarion, watching with silent encouragement.

She gave in to the pull that had been building since they left the mansion.

The man’s muffled protests grew weaker as Adeline’s grip steadied, her fangs sinking into his neck. Astarion stood behind her, his hand threading gently through her hair, “That’s it, darling - Enjoy yourself”.

The rush of blood filled her senses. Astarion’s fingers moved soothingly, “Good girl."

When it was done, the man slumped to the ground. Adeline wiped her mouth with the back of her hand.

“Well done, little love.”

Before she could respond, he stepped closer.

His fingers tightened around her neck as he tilted her face upward, leaning in for a kiss. His firm grip around her neck, should have unsettled her, but the moment his lips met hers and their bodies found eachother, everything else dissolved. She melted into it. The taste of blood between them was a dreary reminder of what they’d done, but in that moment, it only added to the thrill.

When he pulled back, Astarion crouched beside the body, “A little care goes a long way,” he said, tracing the puncture wounds. “The last thing we need is the Flaming Fist sniffing about.”

Astarion took a small glass vial from his pocket - a blend of powdered herbs and magic extracts. He tilted the bottle, letting a few drops onto the punctures. The wound knitted themselves together. Whoever found him, would assume his death was nothing more than a common mugging - a tragic inevitability in these corners.

“Duvain has proven rather indispensable,” Astarion mentioned as if commenting on the weather. “His concoctions are nothing short of brilliant - efficient.”

Adeline didn’t respond. Astarion rarely spoke highly of anyone, but with Duvain, it bordered on respect. In short time, he had become something of an advisor – eager to please.

She couldn’t deny it; Duvain’s creations had their uses. Not long ago, he gave her a concoction that eased the ache that had bothered her, ever since Astarion denied her contact with her friends. It worked, and for that, she was grateful.

And yet, something about him set her on edge. She couldn’t pinpoint it – perhaps it was the quiet way he moved, the way his eyes stayed a moment too long, as if studying her. His presence made her skin crawl.

“We didn't leave much for the spawn. What will they eat?”, Adeline asked, changing the subject.

“Did you think that’s it for tonight?” he teased, “Oh no, my sweet. I have more in store for us.”

“More?” she asked, a smile playing at the corners of her mouth, the pull too strong to deny.

Astarion’s hand rested on Adeline’s back as they strolled through the alley, “Why not indulge a little tonight?”, he gestured ahead to a  lit tavern, its laughter audible through the walls. “We could have a drink, take our time. With our magic in play, we could feed right under their noses, and no one would know.”

Adeline hesitated, looking into the tavern’s windows, where patrons danced and were merry. Her lips parted to object, but his hand slid down her arm, catching her wrist. He leaned in closer, his voice a silken purr against her ear. “Come now, darling. You’ve been tucked away for far too long. Don’t you miss it? The life? The thrill of it all?”

She felt a flicker of fear at the thought of someone she knew, seeing her like this, but it quickly faded. She knew Astarion would have prepared for that. And under his words, her worries faded, “I do miss it…”

“Lovely. Now, let’s see who catches your eye. I’m sure you’ll find us something... delicious.”

Adeline followed Astarion in, sitting on the corner booth beside him. Stepping into an inn or tavern always felt like home - she’d grown up in one, after all. This should have been comforting, familiar. But as his hand settled firmly on her thigh, the warmth of the setting faded.

His voice hummed in her ear, “Pick someone you like, my dear. A charming face, a strong pulse. I promise I won’t be jealous”.

Her eyes landed on a man seated at the bar - a strong handsome man with an easy smile. He was alone, drink in hand, watching the room with a quiet confidence. Astarion gave the get-go.

She approached, leaning against the bar with practiced ease, “You’re far too handsome to be sitting here alone.”

The man looked up from his drink as his eyes lit up. “Is that so?”

Adeline let her hair fall over one shoulder, twirling it around as she smiled. “It is. And lucky for you, I’m not alone.” She gestured toward the corner where Astarion lounged. The intrigue in the man’s face deepened as he took in Astarion’s sharp features.

“I’m his, you see, but he’s feeling generous tonight. He is willing to share, if you are.”

The man blinked, his mouth parting slightly, “You’re serious?”

“Deadly,” she smirked, leaning just a little closer. Her fingers grazed his arm, tracing an idle pattern into it, “Come join us for a drink. It’ll be fun.”

The man hesitated for only a moment before nodding, his eagerness clear.

Adeline led him to their table. Astarion’s smirk widened, his performance meant only for her. He had no desire to lure prey.  

He rose slightly from his seat gesturing to the spot between them. “Sit. It’s not every day we have the pleasure of such fine company.”

The man chuckled nervously, “You’re quite the pair, aren’t you?”

“Oh, you’ve no idea. But let’s not waste time with us. You’ve already charmed Adeline - and she’s not so easily impressed. Tell us, who is the man sitting before us? A blacksmith? A knight, perhaps?”

Adeline poured the wine and passed a glass to their new friend, her fingers brushing his briefly. “He does love his puzzles. But I must admit, I’m curious too. What brings a man like you here?”

The man flushed, “I’m just... just looking for a bit of fun. Things have been a bit… they’re complicated lately” he stuttered, taking a long sip of wine.

“Ah. Complicated. A word so often used to hide the most delicious tales. Go on.”

The man began to speak, his words spilling out, first with uncertainty then eagerness. As they talked, Adeline kept pouring more wine into her glass, one after the other.

They were a symphony of allure.

At first, it was amusing. His awkward attempts to impress them, the way his voice wavered - it fed into the thrill. But then, as his words began to spill out with drunk sincerity, her grip on the glass tightened. A family waiting at home. A younger brother he promised to visit tomorrow. And worse of all, a daughter.

Without thinking, she gulped down the rest of her wine, desperate to drown the pit in her stomach. 

As the glass emptied, her hand reached for the bottle. Astarion’s  looked at her sternly, “Adeline. You’ve had enough for tonight.”

Her smile faded. At home, she had little access to wine anymore. After a few too many nights spent with the bottle, Astarion asked the spawn and servants to keep watch on her. Limit her access. It made her feel like a child.

But she set the bottle aside, begrudgingly.

Then she glanced at Astarion, her hesitation clear. She did not want to hurt the man.

His hand brushed hers under the table, “Darling, It’s time you worked your magic.”

Her heart sank. The bond between them tightened like a noose as the compulsion took hold over her body. She reached out, putting her hand on the man’s arm as she whispered the spell. A spell that sent a lethargy through his muscles. His posture slackened, and Astarion caught him before falling.

“Relax. Struggling will only make it worse. Just close your eyes”.

Adeline hesitated, her eyes pleading.  

“You too, my love. This is your night. Take what’s yours – enjoy yourself.”.

There was no point resisting, so might as well. His jugular was pulsing and when Astarion pushed him closer, her fangs pierced the man’s neck as her hands traveled over his broad, solid frame. 

The taste of his blood flooded her senses, rich and intoxicating, and she hated how much she enjoyed it.

To the rest of the tavern, it looked like a drunken kiss. Heads turned before looking away, trying not to stare at what seemed like a moment of passion.

As the man grew weaker, his head lolling, Astarion dropped his wrist, licking the corner of his lips. Adeline, however, was still deep in it, the euphoria drowning out all the guilt and self-restraint.

“Leave some for the spawn now, dear.”

The words barely registered at first as her hunger demanded more. But slowly, she pulled back, her throat tight to the sight of the man. And worse of all, she missed the taste of him already. 

Astarion put the man’s arm over his shoulders and guided her out of the tavern. No one paid them any mind as they disappeared with a little treat for the spawn.

Glancing at Astarion, the guilt trying to surface, felt distant.

Chapter Text

Adeline stepped inside the mansion with a rare lightness in her chest. She felt... good. Astarion been so generous today, and for once, she could bring something to the spawn that might make them happy.

But as soon as she entered, the sight stopped her.

Blood. Everywhere.

The main hall was a scene of utter carnage. Bodies were thrown across the floor like discarded dolls. The spawn were scattered among them, their mouths and hands red.

And among the chaos, was Mina, drenched in blood. Her bright eyes now burned with the hunger Adeline knew too well. It was no surprise. Even Adeline, who fed better than all the rest, struggled.

Astarion walked past her, his arms wide, “Drink it in, darling!” he laughed, gesturing to the feast before them. “Isn’t it magnificent?”

“Magnificent?” she asked, her voice trembling with anger. “This... this is a massacre! How could you condone this?”

“Condone it? Oh, my love, I orchestrated it.” He took a step closer, his tone mockingly sweet. “I gave them permission to leave this mansion and indulge themselves for once. Isn’t that what you wanted? ‘That I be kind’?”

Adeline’s fists clenched at her sides, “This isn’t kindness! This is madness! This is-”

She trailed off, the words stopping in her throat as she saw the lifeless faces around her. The sight of a young woman, no older than twenty, made her voice tremble, “They didn’t deserve this.”

Astarion’s expression darkened as he stepped closer,“Didn’t they? What about the man we just drained dry, hmm? The hero who came to your rescue? And what about him?”, he gestured to the man from the inn, now thrown on the floor, “the man whose family is waiting for him at home? Tell me, what makes this bloodbath so much worse than your performance tonight?”.

“Look around you. This is crazy, Astarion!”.

“This,” he gestured towards the carnage, “this is freedom. The very thing you think they deserve. But not everyone knows what to do with it, do they? This is what you wanted, my love, isn’t it? For me to be ‘lenient’?”

“This isn’t what I wanted.”

“I bring you fresh prey, handpicked for your tastes. I let you feed on the servants, should the whim strike you. Luxuries beyond mortal comprehension-”

His eyes held hers, unrelenting as his voice sharpened, “And yet, you stand here, after having indulged so sweetly, denying our ‘friends’ the same thing?”

“I -” Her voice faltered, breaking under the pressure of her own thoughts.

“You don’t need to justify yourself to me, dear,” he explained, his tone warmer, genuinely trying to reach her, “That’s the beauty of it. You’re different - you’re my consort. Indulge as you see fit. But don't pretend our spawn are our ‘equals’”.

She had no argument – either he was right or she was a hypocrite.

“You always have to win, don’t you?” 

“This was never about winning. We’re magnificent, you and I - unstoppable. But these spawn need our discipline – and you need to stop questioning my judgement.”

His voice softened, as he stepped closer, his hand grazing her waist, “Together, my love, we could have it all. Stop resisting, stop questioning my decisions and you’ll see.”

She took in the blood-soaked chaos screaming of his need to prove a point. His apology - nothing but an empty lie. Her jaw tightened, fury boiling over. “Bask in your victory, Astarion. Enjoy it. I’m done for the night.”

Without another glance, she turned on her heel, her steps sharp and resolute.

“Run away, then. Slam the door, shatter another mirror if you must. But you’ll come back to me.” His smirk deepened, “Because, you know I’m right. Because you - are mine.”

As she stormed out, Adeline heard Astarion’s voice echoing behind her, “Feast, my spawn. Enjoy yourselves.”

Adeline’s heart twisted - But as much as she wanted to argue, she couldn’t. To let go, accept her place and to stop questioning him – it would be so much easier.

As she sank into her sheets, torn between the urge to cry and the temptation to indeed shatter another mirror, a part of her expected the devil to return.

But the room remained silent. No smirking devil, no taunts. She was alone.

How did I get here?  

Chapter Text

The memories of the previous night lingered, heavy and oppressive. She didn’t want to leave her room, so she stayed curled in her bed, the sheets drawn up around her.

She stirred at the knock on her door. A part of her hesitated - since when did Astarion knock? This was his bed as much as it was hers. He’d never been one to care whether his presence was welcome or not.

“Darling,” Astarion called, “I come bearing breakfast. Surely, you’re not sulking still?”

“Come in.”

Astarion entered with one of the servants behind, carrying a tray, with blood and some fruits.

“I thought you might be hungry.”

His eyes flicked toward the servant arranging the items. “Unless, of course, you’d prefer it… straight from the vein?”

Adeline shook her head, “The goblet is fine. Thank you.”

Astarion gave a small, knowing smile before turning to the servant, “You may go.”

Adeline reached for the goblet and drank deeply. It was bittersweet - the taste of the blood, coupled with the tragedy of needing it at all.

When she set the goblet down, Astarion was watching her, “Feeling better?”

She didn’t want to fight. 

Adeline nodded, “Yes. Thank you… for this - for everything.”

“Good. I’d hate for last night’s… dramatics to linger. I like seeing you happy, Adeline. And I need you on my side, love. I can’t have you fighting my every decision.”

The weight of her earlier outburst pressed on her, “I’m sorry. For interfering. For talking back.”

“I know, dear. Come here.”

He opened his arms wide, and she leaned against him, resting her cheek against his chest, “I’ll follow your lead with the spawn.”

Maybe she should have struggled. Put up a fight. But what difference would it make? They’d just keep fighting a fight she couldn’t win, and she’d have no one to lick her wounds afterwards.

He shook his head, “You shouldn’t. We make an excellent pair, you and me. They might not dare say much to you but make no mistake - they adore you. And I intend to keep it that way. You, my love, just focus on being your charming self and let me handle the rest. I know what’s best for them - and for you. So, no more interfering.”

“No more interfering”, she affirmed.

His arm curled around her, holding her close to himself, his fingers brushing through her hair. The tension of the night before vanished, his arms – a refuge from a cold that never seemed to leave her – unless nestled in his embrace.

“I missed this,” she mumbled.

“So, did I. Let’s not to make a habit of fighting, shall we?”

Adeline laughed softly, muffled against his chest. “Deal.”

So, she let the storm pass, and everything else fade away, as they lay there together in silence…

After a while, he broke it, “My love… As much as I enjoy cuddling up with you, I do find myself in need of your talents.”

Adeline tilted her head up to look at him, “Oh? What talents?”

He smiled, brushing a strand of hair from her face. “Your knack for weaving words into something utterly captivating. I’m planning a big event - a gathering of the city’s finest. Nobles, merchants, politicians. A little affair to remind them why I’m the one they should turn to for... guidance.”

She smiled softly, “I suppose it’s not the worst use of my talents. But what’s in it for me?”, she joked.

Astarion leaned in, “The satisfaction of making me an even more magnificent bastard, of course. And if that alone doesn’t suffice, I might be persuaded to... reward you in ways far more gratifying”.

“Oh, sweetening the deal, are you? Don’t worry – you had me at big event! But no peeking or meddling with my work until I'm done - I want it to be a surprise.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” he said, “Why meddle with perfection?”

Adeline rolled her eyes, but she couldn’t stop the smile that spread across her face. She nestled closer to him.

“That reward I promised…”. He leaned back slightly, his tone seductive, “Perhaps we should skip the formalities and claim it now. What do you say?”

Adeline laughed softly, the sound teasing as she leaned back in anticipation, “Oh? Impatient, are you?”

“Impatient? No. Just a firm believer in positive reinforcement. And you my darling, deserve a little treat for the hard work ahead.”

And before she could respond or as much as blink, he was on her.

The kiss that followed was hungry and demanding. It wasn’t the slow tenderness of the morning before - this was raw and unrestrained. It was - for better or worse; him.

“You belong to me, love,” he growled between kisses, “Every breath you take, every inch of you - mine. Say it. Let me hear you.”

She swallowed, as his gaze locked in on her – intense and unyielding.

Her resistance crumbled as his hand cupped her breast and then, running down her waist – a featherlight touch that set her body on fire.

In moments like these, she could refuse him nothing.

“I’m yours,” Adeline whimpered, her voice trembling as every nerve in her body screamed for him.

A deep rumble escaped his lips as she said the words, closing the gap that remained between their bodies. Gods, the sound of him. She gritted her teeth as he gripped her hips with bruising force, almost like a warning... a threat.

"Say it again - Tell me who you belong to.”

This time, the words were harder to utter, they stopped in her throat. Eventually, they came, “I belong to you, Astarion.”

“Good girl,” he whispered, before towering over her, letting her bask in the sight of him. Gods, he was beautiful.

With a swift, fluid motion, he lifted her and positioned her onto all fours – pushing her firmly down into the pillow.

His nails dug into her - his hold dictating her every move.

“You belong to me, Adeline. Every part of you. Aeterna Amantes.”

Every touch claimed her, mapping her body to mark each as his.

He pulled her gently by the hair, closing the distance between them. His chest pressed firmly against her back, as they both held a kneeling position on the bed.

He held her steady as he positioned himself closer. She felt the graze of his fangs against her shoulder, his kisses trailing upward until they reached the curve of her neck.

Then it came - the sharp pierce of his fangs, precise and unyielding. Her gasp caught in her throat, her body tensing before the rush of heat spread through her veins, leaving her weak and pliant.

She didn’t fight - not this time. The heat if his presence left her with one option alone - surrender. He raised his wrist and pushed it into her lips. They parted and her fangs found his vein. His blood – intoxicating and pushing her further into the delirium he so masterfully induced.

That’s when she felt him grazing her cheeks, rock hard; charged with the vitality of their last feeding. It had her moaning – impatient to have him inside her.

His other hand drifted lower, tracing slow, deliberate circles over her abdomen. It felt impossible to breath. 

"Please, Astarion," she gasped in between feeding, her voice trembling with need, hips grinding against him, trying to close the maddening distance between them.

The sweet beauty of her plea drew a wicked smile on his face, as his fingers finally teased where she wanted them most. His touch precise, circling slowly at first, with an increasing speed that coaxed forth sharp gasps from her. Her head fell back in surrender, unable to feed any longer as deep moans escaped from her mouth.

Once she was about to reach her peak and her body shook – he stopped.

Only to repeat the same motion – again and again - leaving her in that delightful agony he so enjoyed teasing her with.  

Eventually, he relented, leaving her a weak trembling mess, his nimble fingers working her with rapid precision. Her vision faded to black, and time slowed, when he finally let her come. Rapture. Euphoria. Drowning out her senses. 

She felt his breath, ghosting over her as he pulled back, his lips brushing against the fresh bite mark. He lingered there, kissing it softly, savouring every drop. Giving her a moment to breath.

No pain, no regret, no memories. Only him and that agonizing ache for more.

And then he was there, pushing her back down into her pillow. A sharp moan tore from her as he entered her, her body arching to meet his. There was nothing but the overwhelming relief as he filled the empty space. He was everything she needed, and in that moment, she was whole.

Her fingers dug into the sheets, her breath coming in broken gasps as her body moved greedily trying to take him deeper. He pulled out almost entirely, before pushing it back into her. Again and again, his grip unyielding as his hands guided her movements.

He didn’t just take her; he owned her. He moved with a controlled intensity, leaving no doubt that she belonged entirely to him.

And in moments like these, when their bodies moved together – whatever he said, she treated as truth.  

When it was over, Astarion held her close - his chest rising and falling beneath her cheek. The world dissolved into nothingness as her mind numbed.

His.

Chapter Text

The party was a chance to do what she did best.

She saw herself charming hardened politicians. Invitations adorned with elegant designs - it excited her, a reminder that she was more than his consort.

She spent her energy into preparation, directing spawn and servants. Despite the blood-soaked chaos of yesterday, there was a shift in the air. The spawn moved with a bounce, their posture lighter and their smiles genuine. As gruesome as it had been, a sense of joy stayed in its aftermath.

Mina, too, seemed less withdrawn. It was good to see her like this.

Here was this family,  thriving. If she could just let go, quiet the ache in her chest, and fall in line - as Astarion had so vividly demonstrated yesterday - it would all be so much easier.

An hour later, she sat at her desk, quill held over a sheet of paper, the hum of lyrics that refused to turn into something tangible. The song - his song - was proving harder to compose than she anticipated. She traced idle doodles along the paper's edge as her thoughts wandered.

Astarion had given her so much to work with. He had not only grown ambitious, his goals were sharpened by decisive action. Seeing him assured with himself, so unburdened, it filled her with a warmth she clung to.

And yet, when she looked at him, that warmth was accompanied by something else. A quiet ache that crept into every note she tried to compose, refusing to let her create anything else.

Her leg was shaking under the desk, a distraction from the growing furrow in her brow. She needed to focus. This song was supposed to lift him up. And she was perfect for the job - spinning stories was her craft.

But with a frustrated sigh, she threw the pen across the desk. “Why is this so damn hard?” she snapped.

“Struggling? Maybe I can help?” A voice spoke from the corner of the room.

 Adeline stiffened, her breath catching as she turned toward the voice. Raphael.

“What do you want?” 

Raphael’s lips curved into a mocking smile, “To extend a helping hand to the lost and the needy. I am nothing if not a servant of the desperate and downtrodden. And you... You are as desperate as they come.”

“I’m not ‘desperate’. I’m just... stuck on this song. Hardly a cry for help. And don’t you have better things to do than play critic?”

“We both know your struggles are deeper than a case of writer’s block. And as much as I delight in watching you… flounder, that’s not why I’m here. You had such brilliance once, Adeline - now buried under all this misery. A tragedy, wouldn’t you agree?”

“I’m not floundering. I’m working.”

“Ah, yes. That little tune you are hacking away at?” He gestured to the crumpled sheets of paper on the desk. “A masterpiece in the making, I’m sure.”

“Did you come here just to mock me? Because if so, it’s getting old.”

“Mock you? No, dear. I’m here to help. I’ve brought you a little… gift”. 

Her brow furrowed in suspicion, “What kind of gift?”

“Don’t you want to know what it feels like to be free again? To simply... do?”

Her voice sharpened, and she got up from her seat, “If you’re here to hurt Astarion-”

He raised his hand, cutting her off, “Relax. Your power-hungry love is perfectly safe. For now, at least. I’m not here to kill him. But you - you’ve been shackled long enough, don’t you think?”

“You can’t free me. Unless Astarion makes me a true vampire, killing him is the only way. And I won't let you."

“Ah, but you underestimate the possibilities. The crown of Karsus you so generously handed me - it holds secrets untold, power beyond imagination. Psionic magic, dear Adeline. A gift I’ve been mastering. I could free you, just as I silenced that nasty tadpole that once tormented you.”

Her eyes narrowed, “You don’t do anything without a price. And I won’t pay it.”

He laughed softly, “Must you always think me so stingy?”

With a snap of his fingers, energy coursed through her. Adeline’s body loosened and her breath stopped as a startling clarity enveloped her mind.

“What... what did you do to me?” she asked, her voice trembling.

“I merely blocked the signals tying you to your precious master, you are welcome, by the way. Now, go on, stretch your wings, snoop around. Revel in your newfound freedom - it only lasts until midnight.”

“This is wrong,” she shot back, “Stop messing with my mind. Compelled or not, I won’t betray him.”

“You tell yourself that,” he laughed, leaning in closer, “But I know you, little mouse. Always sniffing around where you shouldn’t. Because you know you’ve always scraped through, no matter how dire the odds. Curious, isn’t it?”

Raphael’s smirk widened, amusement fuming in his eyes, “You won't be able to resist. You never have. And I'll swoop in, when the consequences pull you under.”

What was it with these cryptic remarks?

“What aren’t you telling me?” she demanded, her eyes narrowing. “Am I supposed to believe you’re some kind of fairy godmother?”

Raphael let out a low, rich chuckle, “Something like that.”

She looked up at him, brows knitted thoroughly together as she tried to puzzle him together.

“Enjoy your freedom. Indulge your curiosity. But remember -” his gaze locked onto hers, “Don’t. Get. Caught.”

And just like that, he was gone.

Freedom. The word was strange. 

Raphael’s words echoed, “go on, stretch your wings. Snoop around”. Her mind went to Astarion’s office door. the space where he schemed and kept his secrets.

He had asked her not to go into his office. She had believed it was her choice, a quiet agreement built on trust. But the truth struck her - she hadn’t chosen at all. She’d been compelled not to go in.

What else had he hidden behind that charming smile of his? And what was he hiding in there? What if she found something she couldn’t unsee?

Her fingers trembled as she touched the door handle. The compulsion was gone and the pull of opening the door was something she couldn’t resist. She turned the handle slowly. 

What now?

Chapter Text

Adeline stepped into Astarion’s office.

The desk stood at its center, the inkpot and quill neatly aligned beside a small stack of papers. She closed the door behind her.

Her eyes fell on the open calendar. Helsik. Early noon.

The name carried danger. Why was he traveling to the Hells? Seeking information? Her thoughts churned. Was this about Raphael? A knot tightened in her stomach. If he knew, why hadn’t he confronted her yet? Or was he saving that for later?

Should I have told him? Would it have made any difference? And why did I keep it a secret to begin with?

Her eyes settled on a document lying on the desk, its placement suggesting it was recently examined. The writing was unmistakable - infernal. Astarion didn't know the language when they traveled together. So when did he learn it? And more importantly, why?

She picked it up carefully. The writing was unreadable, but it was signed by Mephistopheles.

A contract? No, surely not. Gods, she hoped not. Perhaps it was correspondence, but even that was bad enough. Astarion had told her the devil had gotten what he wanted, that their business was concluded.

But clearly, it wasn’t. Was this why Raphael had returned to their lives? She swallowed hard, the gnawing pit in her stomach growing.

Placing the parchment back, she turned her attention to a cabinet door besides the entrance, slightly open. It was a plain thing - except Astarion wouldn’t leave it open.

No detail escaped his control. It could have been just a careless mistake - hopefully, the servant responsible wouldn’t face harsh reprimand. But then, the more she thought about it, it had her wondering.  Did someone else have access to the office?  

Inside were ledgers - records of the spawn. Names, feeding schedules, behaviors. Reports from Duvain. The name made her blood run cold. She skimmed through its contents till a name caught her attention - Mina. 

The ledger spoke of Mina’s condition, hormonal fluctuation, her responses to “treatments,”. Treatments for what?

Her fingers moved through the pages, as she moved on to the others. Alchemical substances. Controlled feeding experiments. Stress tests. The cold, clinical details sent nausea through her.

Each report revealed methods and the results but never the why. Astarion’s goal - his purpose with all of this - remained hidden.

She closed the report with a sharp snap, shoving it back into the drawer with trembling hands. She didn’t want to know more. This was all too much for one day.

But as she turned to leave, her gaze fell on an envelope, tossed onto a side table near the door. It lay askew, as though discarded without a second thought. She turned it over, and her heart sank. Her name was written in a familiar hand.

Adeline.

The handwriting wasn’t Astarion’s. It was Wyll’s.

The seal was intact. Astarion hadn’t opened it. Had he meant to give it to her? Or had he hidden it among the other secrets he never intended her to find? 

This letter - her letter - was hers to read. Of all the things she’d found today, this alone felt like her right.

And then, carefully, she broke the seal.

Chapter Text

The inn felt smaller than Adeline remembered. Its warm firelight - a contrast to the cold mansion she now called home. 

Shadowheart stood as Adeline entered, “Adeline! It’s been too long.”

The weeks between them fell away as Adeline reached out for a hug.

“Far too long,” Adeline replied warmly. 

“You look... good,” Shadowheart said as they pulled apart. 

“We’re doing well. Asterion has really made a name for himself. Life has changed so much.”

“Come, sit. I want to hear everything.”

They sat down at the table, opposite eachother. 

“Where to start? The mansion is breathtaking. Truly. Marble floors, padded cushions. Astarion insists on the finest decor. You’d love it... if it wasn’t for the spawn.”

“I’m sure I would... But what about you?”

Adeline smiled but her leg shook from under the table, “I’m wonderful. We’ve built something incredible. Astarion’s taken to his role as a leader so well. The city respects him. Can you imagine? Him, playing politics with such... grace?”

Shadowheart’s brow furrowed as she tried to search what lay behind that all too polished smile, “And you? Where do you fit in all of this?”

“I help where I can. The parties, the gatherings - gives me a chance to perform and charm the guests. I'm in my element." 

“That’s not what I asked.”

Adeline’s smile faltered, as she swallowed the lump that had formed in her throat, “I’m happy,” she countered, quieter now. “He takes good care of me.”

“Truly?”

Adeline nodded, forcing another smile, “Yes. Astarion ensures everyone in the house is provided for. The spawn is well-fed, the staff-”

“Adeline.”

“Enough about me,” she said quickly, “What about you, Shadowheart? How’s everyone else? And the Owlbear, you must tell me how he is doing!”.

Shadowheart blinked at the sudden shift. Then her smile returned, “The owl-bear is thriving. He hunts a lot on his own, but he always comes back - and some times he brings... little gifts.”

“What kind of gifts?”

“Last week, it was a quarter of a squirrel. He dropped it at my feet and was quite offended when I didn’t gush over it”.

Adeline’s laughter softened, “You know, back at camp, he tried to win Lae'zel over. Dragged back this half eaten hare and thought she’d be impressed.”

 “And was she?”

“Not even a little,” Adeline chuckled.

“He still hasn’t learned, you know. At our last get-together, he brought Lae’zel a fish… smelled awful. He dropped it in front of her like it was the greatest price. I was surprised Lae'zel didn't lunge it back at him. I think he’s finally grown on her!”

Adeline laughed, though her smile didn’t reach her eyes, “It sounds like you all had a good time.”

“We did. We missed you, though. Especially Halsin. It’s not the same without you.”

Adeline’s leg grew more restless, “I know,” she sighed, “I hated missing it. Things have just been so busy lately. The mansion, the guests, all of it-”

“Busy,” Shadowheart repeated, “We’ve always been busy, Adeline. Spirits don’t bolster themselves, you used to say. You’d get us to sit by the fire and share a laugh while our tadpoles threatened to turn us into mind flayers.”

Adeline hesitated, her fingers playing with the fabric of her skirt. “It’s different now.”

“You can't take one day off? Not even for us? Lae'zel is leading a rebellion, and she made it”.

Adeline's eyes dropped to her lap, her grip tightening on her skirt as Shadowheart’s questions pressed closer.

But it wasn’t just the questions - it was the hunger too. She clenched her jaw, fighting against it’s pull. If Shadowheart wasn't there, there might have been one less patron in the tavern, their pulse silenced and their warmth fading away - and she hated how beautiful the thought was.

“Adeline.” Shadowheart pleaded, “I know you aren’t doing well. The others are concerned too. You’re allowed to lean on us. On me.”

“I can’t,” Adeline whispered, her voice trembling. “You don’t understand.”

“Then help me understand. We’ve been through too much together for you to shut me out now. Whatever it is, Adeline, we can figure it out. Together.”

Adeline shook her head as she stood upright, “I should go now.”

“Wait!” Shadowheart called, rising to her feet. She wrapped her arms around her, pulling her into a firm hug. “I’m here for you - like you were always there for me. That will never change. Never.”

Adeline froze as tears welled in her eyes, blurring her vision. For a moment, she let herself sink into the hug. But the shame was too much, when her neck started calling out to her. She pulled away quickly, “I… I need to go "

“Adeline-”

But Adeline was already moving, hurrying toward the door before the tears could spill over.

That was the last time she saw Shadowheart. The last time she saw any of her companions. Asterion convinced her it was for the best. When she disagreed, he told her to trust his judgement. She had him. She didn’t need the others. In fact, she was forbidden to meet with any of them.

"They twist your mind, fill it with doubts. They don’t understand what we have. They didn’t then, they never will."

And now, this letter in front of her.

Adeline.

I hope this letter reaches you, though I don’t know if it will. Your last reply didn’t sound like you. I’ve read your words a hundred times now and no matter how many ways I look at it, something feels wrong. The others are saying the same thing.

Karlach is back from Avernus. She's free from Zariel and no longer overheating. We thought of you the moment we returned. You aren't just a friend to us - you are family. Our celebration wasn't the same without you. We were certain you'd arrive, violin in hand - lighting up the party. But you never came, and I don’t believe you’d miss it for anything. Did the invitation get lost? I remain hopeful one of these letters will reach you.

Cause we don't understand why you've distanced yourself. You mentioned starting a new life, needing space and that you're happy now. But is that the truth? We've tried to visit. The guards say you're not accepting visitors. If we've wronged you - tell us. Let us make it right. But this silence, it doesn't seem like you.

Meet with us. Please. Say goodbye, if that's your wish. But don’t leave us in the dark.

Always, Wyll

What did he mean? Adeline hadn’t written in 3 months. She hadn’t heard from them at all. Wyll’s words replayed in her mind: something feels… wrong. The others are saying the same.

And then it struck her. Astarion.

Had he written to them? Forged replies in her name? The idea seemed absurd at first, but the more she thought about it, the more it made sense.

Adeline had convinced herself that her companions had moved on, that they no longer cared. And she had told herself, that was for the best.  Astarion had reassured her of that - again and again. They’d never understand. They’d never accept us - you. The real you.

But now, with Wyll’s letter in her hands, she realized the truth. They never stopped caring. They reached out, time and time again. And Astarion… he had hidden it from her. And Karlach was free! How could he keep something like that from her?

The ache in her chest sharpened and became unbearable.

And in that moment, the weight of Astarion’s lies pressed down on her - suffocating her. 

Chapter Text

When she returned to her bedroom, she put the letter in a drawer where Astarion wouldn’t look. He’d notice it was taken away, but if she was lucky, he’d blame the servants.

She collapsed on the bed, burying her face in the pillow. She was so eager this morning. Throwing herself into preparations and party planning. She laughed bitterly at the thought of that. And then the dam broke. Ugly sobs wracked her body, the tears dampening her pillow entirely. 

Every breath felt impossible as memories flashed through her mind. She saw the faces of her victims – the colour dissolving from their faces – and she felt their limbs weakening in her arms. The irresistible pull of blood, overwhelming her senses and shedding her every inhibition. She saw herself, revelling in it. Astarion told her it was natural. And she wanted to believe him.

With every person drained, her morals eroded, chiselling her away piece by piece. Molding her into Astarions perfect vampire bride - ready to nod along to anything he did, no matter how heinous. But this wasn’t her. 

And then the images of her friends. Shadowheart’s steady eyes, Karlach’s infectious smile and Halsin’s strong arms. She hadn’t let herself fully miss them. Drowning the ache with alcohol, and then later with Duvain’s supply of mind-numbing concoctions. She saw them trying to reach her, but finding only forged letters and locked doors.

Every assurance Astarion had wrapped her in now felt thin. Raphael’s spell had left her a shaky mess. Her mind was clear yet more scrambled than ever.

And then... The familiar shift in the air. The warm gust of air telling her she wasn’t alone.

She turned her head, still half buried in the pillow, “You’re here to sink your claws into me while I’m down, aren’t you? That’s why you had me go through his office - so you could watch me fall apart.”

“Claws? While I relish the imagery, dear, you do me a disservice. I do not delight in finding you like this.”

He stepped closer, locking his unnervingly soft eyes with hers, “You were always such a sweet, delicate thing. I merely came to see how my gift served you – to make sure you are… okay.”

She pushed herself upright, “Don’t pretend to care about me. Just tell me. What game are you playing? And what business does Astarion have with your father?”

“Ah, dear Adeline. You think I am incapable of care? A devil with no sentiment?” he stepped even closer, his eyes intensifying, “You are wrong.”

Adeline took a second to discern if there was any sincerity in his words. His tone lacked the bite it usually had. She shook her head. No way.

“Stop messing with my mind. Just say what you came here to say and leave.”

As he sat down beside her, the weight of him pressed the mattress so far down, she struggled not to slide closer to him. And then, locking eyes with hers, he raised his hand. The motion caused her to flinch but he merely brushed a tear from her cheek - a gesture as oppressive as it was tender. She wondered if she’d prefer a slap over… whatever this was. She forgot to breathe for the entirety of it.

“Look at you, my dear. Such a broken little thing. Is this what you imagined for yourself, Adeline? To be reduced to this? Hollowed out and devoured.”

The shame he provoked, held her tongue still. 

"But you don’t have to stay this way. You could be so much more than his shadow. If only you’d let yourself.”

When he began to trace his fingers over her jaw, Adeline finally managed to snap out of it. She sat up sharply, “Don’t. Stop pretending to know me, you don’t.”

"Oh, but I do,” he countered, the biting tone returning as sharp as ever, “You’ve always been loyal. That stubborn belief of the good in people. It’s your most treasured traits and yet, it’s the very same qualities he has turned against you. Forcing you to become a woman you hate . A woman you despise .”

She swallowed the lump balling up in her throat.

"Tell me, Adeline. What’s left of the woman you once were? The leader who inspired hope? He’s taken it all. Torn you from the people you love and locked you to this mansion like a prisoner. Even your joy - just an illusion, dependent on the freedoms he steals and hands out like charity. Is there any trace of you left?"

It felt as if he was stabbing her with a knife in the stomach, twisting it with every syllable he uttered. Her shoulders grew weaker. She shook her head and caught her face in her palms. And then the tears started running uncontrollably. She hated letting him see her like this. 

Before she could pull away, he wrapped his arm around her and pulled her into a firm embrace. Adeline froze, unsure if she should pull away or stay still. When he tightened his hold, she had no option. 

His fingers played with her hair, whispering gently, "It’s alright, my dear. Let it all out."

She could hardly remember the last time anyone but Astarion held her like this. Whenever he hurt her, he was always the one to mend the wounds. Now? She was cradled in the arms of a devil. She should have pulled away, even struggled. But instead, she let go, sank into it and let her tears flow free.

~

Raphael’s eyes were fixed ahead. On his face was the wicked smile of a predator who had his prey exactly where he wanted. Breaking her down, so he could be the one to pick up the pieces.

~

As the seconds passed, her mouth started to water. His vein was pulsing so beautifully in her ears. So close, so alive. What would a devil taste like? Could she even feed from him? She shook the thought away and her nails clawed into her palms as she tried to dull the hunger. And it… worked ? It didn’t disappear, but she had it under control. That ravenous pull was… muted. Was it because of the spell? As the hunger faded, she felt herself relax in his embrace. Her mind numbed and her body went slack as she ran out of tears.

~

And once he felt her softening against him, his smile faded. A strange feeling crept up on him. Unwelcome and alien. He looked down on the woman nestled in his arms. The victory he should have savoured, felt... bitter somehow.

He pulled her away gently, his hands cupping her face, “Tell me Adeline, every time you’ve hit rock bottom, hasn’t there always been something - someone - to pull you back?”

Indeed. But she figured whatever divine favours she had obtained were long gone after Astarions ascension.

She didn’t reply out loud. He didn’t need her to. Her tangled mind made it easy to slip in unnoticed, and he chose his words accordingly, “Rest assured, it hasn’t abandoned you yet.”

~

Adeline desperately tried to make sense of him. Why was he acting like this? But she didn’t even catch his intrusion, let alone the intent shrouded in his words.

Then, he blinked and shook his head slightly. His familiar composure returned along with Adeline’s breath.

“Listen. Astarion will return soon. I’ll come back, but until then - whatever you do - do not tell him you were in his office. No matter how much anger stirs in you, no matter how much you want to confront him about it, don’t.”

Adeline prepared to argue, but he silenced her by lifting a finger to her lips, “He will twist it. Every lie, every act of control - he’ll wrap them up in silk and tell you it was all for your own good. And you, you’ll accept it. You always do.

“What am I supposed to do then?” 

“You still have today. Use it to your advantage. And when I return, we’ll see just how much of your freedom you’ve managed to hold onto.”

And with that, he was gone. Numb and confused, she simply sat there for a while. And then, once the smell of sulphur left the room, she focused on recollecting herself. Whatever business Astarion had in the hells, he’d surely be back before midnight.

She wondered if she should send word to her friends. But as much as she wanted to, she didn’t want to put them in danger. Astarion’s thralls also controlled the means to which she could send it. And besides, what could they do? She wanted her freedom, but she didn’t want Astarion dead. Raphael could give her that. But was she willing to pay whatever price he asked in return?

She braced herself with a deep breath.

Chapter Text

Adeline sat at the edge of the bed. She couldn’t see him yet, but she felt his presence. She had no solid plan. Whenever she weighed her options, they grew narrower, resulting in nothing but fearful inaction.

Footsteps echoed closer. Instinctively, she rose. Her eyes were fixed on the door leading to the balcony that overlooked the main hall. But the handle didn’t move.

Instead, she heard his voice addressing the spawn below. His tone was… triumphant? Something had shifted. But what?

“These guests are a gift. Plucked from the outskirts of the city, unspoiled by its filth. Fresh prey as a reward for your service in raising me to my rightful place as the true vampire ascendant. You may test my patience at times. But tonight, you’ve earned this feast.”

The true vampire ascendant? She tried to puzzle it together. Astarion had spoken about some elusive power that he had yet to unlock. She had witnessed his frustration, as he tried to locate the source of his unfulfilled potential. Had he finally figured it out? Could that explain the document she found on his desk? The one signed by Mephistopholes?

She had wrestled with accepting him as the ascendant. And now, a true ascendant? What did that even mean?

“Feast, my spawn, but do not kill them,” Astarion commanded.

As the spawn digged in, screams echoed through the halls. New additions to the ‘family’ no doubt. Yet another reason to stay put. They’d need her. A recitation of rules and duties weren’t enough to prepare them for this new existence.

And then, the handle turned. Adeline stepped back as Astarion swung into the room. His energy charged the very air around them.

“Now, my love. My treasure – the one who made all this possible. You’ve been my strength, my reason to rise higher – to take more”

He stepped closer, cupping her face, “And now, the power is mine – complete and unmatched. Tonight, we revel in our triumph and the future that lies before us.”

Adeline looked up at him, wide eyed as her shoulders grew ever more hunched, “Astarion… What did you do?”

There was a manic gleam in his eye and he didn’t register her question, nor her fear. Instead, he started pacing around the room, speaking of his new power with an intensity that bordered on deliria.

“Everything we could dream of. Cities at our feet, riches beyond reckoning. A kingdom, built in our image!”

He turned back to her, placing his hands on her waist, “Do you see it, Adeline? Baldur’s Gate is just the beginning.”

She was locked in place as she tried to process his words, let alone find her own. And then, she remembered the letter. The blood. She didn’t care how ‘grand’ he said their future was. Not unless it included her friends.

She felt his hands tighten around her, “Why are you so quiet? We can have everything now, are you not happy?”

“I…” she whispered, before the sound faded. Her eyes fell to the ground, despite how hard she tried not to.

Astarion took a step back as he scrutinized her, “Why are you so determined to stay miserable? Why can’t you simply be happy for me – for us? You should be celebrating, not-” he gestured towards her with his entire body, “whatever this is.”

He raised his nostrils and snarled, “Ungrateful. Always so ungrateful”.

She kept her gaze fixed on her feet. She didn’t dare lift them under his scrutiny. Not after everything she learned today. And deeper than that, was the fear that the Astarion she fell in love with was slipping even further away. Consumed by this new power she barely understood.

When she refused to give him the dignity of a response, his patience thinned further, “Do you even grasp what I’ve achieved? The sacrifices I’ve made for us? For you? And yet, here you are, pouting as always. What do you want from me, Adeline? What will make you happy?”

She wanted the man she fell in love with. The man whose love felt like a partnership. Not the adoration of some prized possession. 

“You don’t understand. This - all of this, it isn’t what I want.”

“Fine, if you can’t be happy for me, celebrate on your own. I’ll find the spawn - they know how to appreciate what I provide.”

He turned his back on her and slammed the door shut. She figured he was impatient to get back to the new members of their family. And once he was gone, she just stood there. Eyes hollow. A part of her wanted to meet his energy. If it was any other day, she would have. But today, her body was unshackled. She didn’t need his approval. And when the metallic smell from the hall reached her nostrils, she wanted no part in it.

After a few moments, Astarion returned, dragging in a young beautiful woman, put under a charm spell.

“This one,” he said, gesturing toward her, “was chosen specifically for you. But nothing I do is ever good enough, is it? I won't have you going hungry, just because you’ve forgotten how to celebrate a good thing. Go on, then. Eat.”

She looked the woman over. The sight of her no longer made her hungry. Just… sad.

“No. I won’t.”

“You won’t?” he echoed, his tone in disbelief. “You’re refusing me? Again?”

She finally met his gaze, “I don’t want this. I never wanted this”.

Astarion stepped closer as he towered over her, “I never forced you to turn, Adeline. That was your choice, to spend an eternity with me. And don’t you dare act like you haven’t enjoyed it. The prey I’ve brought you, the blood on your lips. I’ve seen the way your eyes light up. You’ve indulged in it all, and yet here you are, playing the victim, as if you don’t revel in it just as much as I do”.

She fought her body’s instinct to make itself smaller, “You promised me more. You promised me that you’d make me a true vampire. And what else was I to do, Astarion? I loved you – I couldn’t let you go.”

“And I told you, when the time is right. And this - this pitiful sulking?” He gestured towards her with his hand, “It tells me everything I need to know. You are far from ready.”

Her fists clenched at her sides, “Why do you keep asking me what I want, yet refuse to listen? I don’t want this - I never did. I wanted you. I want to be a true vampire, and I want to see my friends.”

Asterion's eyes hardened, “You chose this. Embrace what you are - forget about your friends and stop fighting me. This is the last time I say it.”

But then he exhaled, and made his voice softer, “You cling to your past like a child clings to his favourite blanket. And it’s holding you back. It is holding us back. We can have everything. If only you’d… trust me.”

She considered it for a second. But no. She didn’t want to dim her anger now that she finally felt free to feel it.

“Trust you? You ask for my trust but you refuse to trust me. To give me my freedom. What are you so afraid of? You keep me here, trapped, isolated, feeding me excuses about how it is all for my own good. And not to mention-”

Her fury battled with her caution. She remembered Raphael’s warning.

“Not to mention what?”

The letters and the experiments . She couldn’t let it spill free in her rage. So, she took a deep breath, “Forget it. Go back to your precious spawn and leave me alone. I don’t want your thralls or your power.”

“Then tell me. What the hell do you want? You knew what you signed up for when you chose eternity with me. I was under the impression you wanted this.”

“I wanted you ,” she shot back, as her voice broke with a grief she had suppressed far too long.

“Well. Guess what, Adeline. This is me. You just miss me at my weakest, don’t you? Cuddly Astarion playing the part. Your little project. But I am not that man anymore. And you? You are my consort. This is what we are now. Act like it.”

Was that truly how he felt? That she missed the Astarion, she could control? Was there any truth to it? No. But it hurt, that he felt that way.

“Let it go, Adeline. Let it all go. This misery, this guilt. Forget the life we left behind and focus on what we can build. Together.”

“I don’t think I can,” she sighed as her eyes started glistening. “You’ve taken so much - my friends, my freedom, me. I gave it up for you, Astarion. Because I couldn’t bear to lose you. And now you dare call me ungrateful?”

“Ungrateful?”, he spat, “Ungrateful doesn’t even begin to cover it. I’ve given you everything. We slept on dirt before this – on dirt. And now you are surrounded by luxuries of all kinds. And yet, you sulk and complain. For what? Because you can’t have everything exactly how you want it?”

“You want gratitude? For isolating me from everyone who cares about me? You are so full of yourself, you’re pathetic.”

She didn’t even realise the weight of her words, before she saw the murder in his eyes, “Silence!” He yelled as his hand shot up.

The sharp sound of a slap reverberated in her ear. Adeline gasped as her hand flew to her cheek. The sting burned and the room fell silent.

“I warned you. Yet you insist on pushing me”.

His eyes burned into hers, searching, “Tell me. Something has gotten into you as of late. I order you - tell me.”

His command bore down on her. But the compulsion crashed into a wall. Raphael’s spell. She didn’t have to answer.

“I…” she began, as her hand fell from her cheek, “There’s nothing to tell. Nothing I haven’t already told you. Nothing you aren’t too stubborn to hear."

“Don’t lie to me, Adeline. I know it. Something is different.”

She felt him, trying to probe her mind for answers. And even though he fed richly from her this morning, he couldn’t penetrate.

“I can’t lie to you, I’m your ‘consort’, remember? You told me my thoughts would be my own. You promised they would be. If anything has changed, it’s you.”

He sighed, though the sound was closer to a growl, “Ugh. This is getting us nowhere. You need time to think, time to reflect on everything I’ve done for you. And it seems all my previous attempts have failed.”

He looked her over, eyes narrow and cold as he pondered what to do.

“If you refuse to eat, then I’ll grant you your wish. You won’t eat until you’ve come to your senses and apologize. Until then, you’ll stay put until I say otherwise. Do you understand?”

Did he hear himself? He was gonna starve her? She thought the slap would bring him to his senses. That he’d realize he had gone too far. That he’d see how much it hurt. But he didn’t.

Her newfound freedom was already slipping away. Technically, she could refuse but what then? At midnight, when the spell or whatever it was wore out, nothing would change, and she would feel just as helpless as before. She could try to escape… But Astarion would waste no resources locating her.

And where would she even go? She had only an hour left to prepare. Her friends would offer refuge. But she refused to put them at risk. Could she run off on her own? Become a wandering bard again? The thought almost made her laugh. Sooner or later, her vampirism would get to her. Could she make it to the underdark before the sun rose? No.

Her options grew ever thinner, along with Asterion's patience, who expected an answer.

So, with a quiet sigh, she let her face fall blank, “Yes, I understand.”

His eyes softened before he turned to leave, “You’ll see it, in time. You’ll understand. "I know you will.”

Then he left. She wrapped her arms around herself. And she found herself making excuses already. Should she have tried harder? He was obviously excited, and she – his partner couldn’t even muster so much as a smile on his behalf. He had never struck her before. Was it his new power? Had it changed him like the first time?

Nothing felt certain any more. And she was too scared and overwhelmed to act. She wondered when Raphael would be back. When he’d reveal what he wanted.

Chapter Text

Adeline sat up with a body stiff from a sleepless night. The pillow beside her was empty - Astarion hadn’t joined her. 

She pressed her hand to her temple. Her mind had been running all night and her brain felt like fog. The spawn had feasted for the entirety of it, indulging in the blood she was denied. The scent of it making it hard to think. 

She rubbed her eyes, but sleep wouldn’t come. Not last night, not now. The memory of their fight replayed on an endless loop. Guilt creeping in at every turn. I should have chosen my words more carefully. I should have celebrated his victory. 

But didn’t she have a right to be angry ? He had forged those letters and written them in her name, while her friends were out there worrying about her. And he slapped her, tried to force her to spill her thoughts and now, he was starving her. Yes, she had every right to be angry. 

And yet as much as she wanted to hate him for what he’d done, it felt impossible. Her eyes lingered on the pillow he hadn’t touched. Was she in the wrong?

Adeline sat up, her head resting in her hands. With a heavy sigh, she rose, smoothing the sheets and straightening the pillows. She started cleaning her space, as if it would do anything to clear the mess that was her head. 

Crossing the room, she picked up her violin. She raised it to her shoulder and began to play. She figured a spell could ease the ache in her stomach. 

As she played, her eyes drifted to the wooden duck, in its place of honour, by the window seat. What would have happened if she went with him instead? Would Astarion even allow it?  

The sound of the door opening broke her focus. Astarion carried an unconscious woman over his shoulder. 

“Well? Have we come to our senses yet? Or are we still indulging this little tantrum?” He dropped the woman onto the chaise, “You need to eat, Adeline”.

“No,” she said simply. 

It was harder now, with Raphael’s spell gone, but it only strengthened her resolve. She had resisted yesterday, and she couldn’t let that be for naught. 

“This is pathetic. It’s just an apology, Adeline. A few words, and all this nonsense could be over. You’re starving yourself, for what?”

“I want to be a true vampire. And I want to see my friends.”

“Again, with this? You’re not ready. And your friends?” He scoffed, “They don’t understand us, Adeline. It’s time you put them behind you."

Without a word, she raised the violin to her chin. 

“Ugh, fine, keep starving then. But this is absurd. You’ll eat eventually.”

He grabbed the woman and turned towards the door. But before he left, he looked back at her, “Perhaps my little surprise will bring you back to your senses”.

“A surprise?”

“Duvain hasn’t worked out the logistics yet, but I have no doubt he will. In the meantime, why don’t you work on your apology? Knowing you - I’m sure it’ll be nothing but spectacular.”

With that, he closed the door behind him.  

Had Duvain crafted some new concoction? A mind-numbing elixir to keep her docile? No - he wouldn’t do that. Would he ? He spoke as if the news would make her happy, so she hoped that was true. 

As the hours dragged, she heard activity from outside. Preparations for the party. 

Her doubts returned. Should she just apologize and return to his side? The thought was tempting, but she shoved it away. This control over her hunger felt good. For once, she wasn’t ruled by it and that small victory filled her with pride. 

She picked up her violin again. The melody kept playing as the day passed. For the first time in what felt like forever, she felt a spark of inspiration. Was it… joy ? Perhaps….

Whatever it was, it was fleeting. At nighttime, the hunger worsened. She could smell the blood from downstairs. No massacre this time, but the scent of blood still made its way to her nostrils. It was agonizing – painful even. 

Astarion hadn’t returned. Was he out on business or giving her the silent treatment? Either way, she was a sweaty mess and once Astarion came, she had no idea if she could keep this up. 

Then, the air shifted. 

Raphael .

Chapter Text

Then the air shifted. Raphael…

Raphael leaned on her vanity table, looking her over, “What a sight you are. You’re holding on so desperately. But you won’t last much longer, will you?”. 

“I’m fine,” she grumbled but her dry voice convinced neither of them. 

“Fine?” Raphael echoed as he stepped closer, “Oh, my dear, you’re anything but fine. Though, I must say, your determination is... quaint. Pointless, of course, but isn’t that part of your charm?”

She ignored his dismissal. 

“You’ll give in eventually. You always do. And when you do, he’ll have you wrapped around his little finger again, as tightly as ever.”

“So, what? I should just get it over with?” 

“No. I rather enjoy watching him squirm – so close to success, yet so utterly dissatisfied. Bordering on manic, really. And all because of you.”

He sat down on the edge of the bed and Adeline straighened opposite him. 

“You’ve been a thorn in my side more times than I care to count, but this - this feels almost nostalgic. A reminder of the grip you have on people, even now.”

As he spoke, he noticed her parted lips and the way her teeth bit her lower lip as if holding back. 

“Ah, there it is. You don't need to say it, dear. I can see it in your eyes. Tell me, did you even hear a word I said?”

He tilted his head slightly, exposing his neck, “Would you like a taste?”

She quickly turned her face away, but the hunger gnawed at her insides, forcing her eyes to return, “Can I even… Drink from a devil?”

Raphael chuckled, “Of course you can. My blood is a bit hot, but don’t worry - I can temper it, make it perfect, even. I wouldn’t offer if I couldn’t deliver.”

Adeline’s eyes returned to his vein, shamelessly now. A deep sigh escaped her lips as she anticipated it – yearned for it, “What do you want in return?” 

“No contracts, no bargains. Nothing you wouldn’t offer willingly. Just a small favor. You did hand me the crown, after all.”

~

Her hands were shaky, fighting the urge to grab him and feed. And when she tried to argue and inquire about his true intent, she crumbled. This was a terrible idea . A devil never offers anything for free. But perhaps she could hold on long enough for Astarion to relent, if she just had a little taste? So, she leaned forward and went for his neck. 

“Ah, ah,” Raphael reprimanded, lifting a finger to her lip to still her. “Slow down, dear.” He moved closer, sliding his hand into her hair, “You'll feed, but let us not rush. You may not get to in a long time.”

She took a deep breath to ease the tension. His fingers threaded through her hair, guiding her gently to the hollow of his neck. Just inches away from a vein so inviting and pulsing with life. As she waited for his permission, her shaky hands began to slide over his chest. An effort to still the anticipation.

“Drink,” he ordered. 

Finally . Her lips parted, and then her fangs sank into his vein. 

The taste of him hit her like a rush of fire overwhelming her senses and drowning out all logical thought – losing herself entirely in his neck. She felt stronger with each mouthful, a sensation like nothing else she had ever bitten into. Was it the intense hunger preceding it? 

A soft sound escaped her throat, between a sigh and a moan. It had been so long since she fed like this. Not since Halsin offered her a taste and she finally trusted herself to try. 

She pressed closer, trying to resist the urge to climb his lap and feed more comfortably - more intimately. Her hands travelled all over his chest, seeking an anchor at first, but shortly after, her touch became… exploratory. 

She told herself it was the rush of the feeding, but the truth was - she wanted to touch him, to feel him - to be close as her weakened limbs came back to life.  

~

Raphael let her hands explore, curious to see how deeply he could make her lose herself in him. 

He felt the moment her hunger shifted - when the feeding became secondary, “Such fervor,” he teased.  

~

He placed his hand on her waist, fingers touching it so light it was maddening. He was warm, which felt like a comfort to her cold undead body. And the curiosity she had always felt for him, now became even stronger.

Raphael’s fingers tightened, “That’s enough, dear.”

She let out a moan, as she struggled to pull back from his neck. And when she did, she blinked all dazed and breathless. Afterwards, she licked her lip and used a finger to savor the blood that had run down her mouth. 

Gods, he was delicious . And he knew it. The way her eyes mourned the remaining blood trailing down his neck, must have told him that much. 

In an act, she considered mercy, Raphael raised a finger and caught the blood before it dripped further. Slowly, he brought his finger to her lip, spreading it across as she licked it clean. Her eyes rolled with the taste of it. In her haze, embarrassment didn’t even register. 

When she had licked it clean, her eyes flicked to his lips and just for a moment, she felt the pull. 

Raphael’s smirk deepened,  “My poor little mouse, jumping from one craving to the next”. 

Adeline tried to snap out of it but he continued, “I mean, I always knew I had a certain… effect on you, but please, darling, pace yourself. We wouldn’t want you keeling over, now, would we?”

With that line, he gave her the laugh she needed to get herself together, “keeling over? Raphael, you think too highly of yourself.” 

“Do I? Admit it, dear. The quiet has grown lonesome without me. Every creak in the floor, every gust of wind - it sets your heart racing, doesn’t it? You expect me now. Maybe even... miss me .”

And with that, the moment to recover was out of reach once again. He was right . She had found herself wondering when he would come back. And whenever she felt his presence, she was as curious as she was annoyed by it. 

She only ever got to be close to Astarion and men, later to be prey. The latter, being disinteresting to her, despite Astarions’ lack of jealousy. So, now that he was there, she didn’t want the moment to end. She leaned forward and rested her forehead against his shoulder.

~

Raphael hadn’t expected it, and it froze him for a second. 

He didn’t pull away. Instead, he placed his hand lightly against the curve of her back and his fingers were unsure if he should play with the strands of her hair or leave them. 

After a moment, she pulled back and looked up at him, “Thank you… for this.” 

Raphael looked her over, studying her. Her words struck something in him. Something he couldn’t understand.

He shook it off as his expression turned sharp again, “This?” he echoed, “A pitiful respite amidst the ruin he’s built around you. Still clutching at scraps, I see. You lack vision, Adeline.”

~

She felt her shoulders sag the second his mocking tongue returned. 

“This need not be the end. You used to be something. Your voice could sway the most hardened hearts. But now? You’re just another tragedy, shackled and small.” 

Adeline tried to speak, but he held up a hand, silencing her, “Let me offer you more - something better.”

Will he finally reveal what he wants?

“I’ll help you reclaim everything he’s taken from you,” Raphael promised, “And if, after that, you still wish to crawl back to him, well... I’d allow it. But this folly has gone on long enough. Come with me, hear me out.”

She stiffened as her brows knit together, “Leave, with you?”

She knew better than to trust him. He was a devil - a manipulator of the highest order. Karlach had told her it was never a good idea to play with devils. That you never win. 

“Think it over but understand this - my offer does not linger forever. The next time I visit will be the last, and when I do, I expect your final answer.”

The offer surprised her. The urgency coming out of nowhere, left her speechless. 

And then he was gone. The room was silent. And she was alone again. 

She sat blank as she processed what had just happened. Raphael could offer her freedom. Refuge. Strangely enough, leaving with him unsettled her less than the idea of running off on her own. It wasn't that she couldn't handle herself. She had survived and scraped by before. She simply didn’t want to. Not again.

But to leave with him? The idea was absurd. And yet, the thought of him walking away, of never seeing him again… it didn’t sit right either.

Chapter Text

Adeline rested her head against his broad chest, his arms holding her in an embrace she imagined home felt like. It was their first night together after turning. She worried that he might see her differently.  But no, nothing about him had changed. He touched her with the same passion and looked at her with the same desire he always had. He took such care of her after they made love, holding her close as his fingers traced patterns on her back. 

Nothing had changed.

Except the way her eyes always returned to the pulse in his neck. The way her hunger got worse when they were close like this. She thought she'd be able to control her hunger the way Astarion had. Sure, he almost killed her the first time, but he had been starved of human blood for 200 years. He made it look easy. 

“You can have some, if you want to,” Halsin offered. 

“I’m afraid I wouldn’t stop if I started,” she admitted, “But you’re kind to offer.”

“How could I not?” he asked as his hand moved to brush a lock of hair from her face. “You’ve given me so much. You helped me lift the curse, united Thaniel and Oliver, been my anchor, while this city threatens to pull me under. My blood, my strength - whatever you need, it’s yours”. 

“You don’t owe me anything, Halsin. Please don’t think that. I helped you because it was the right thing to do. And besides, I grew rather fond of those boys… and you,” she laughed softly. 

He held her tighter, placing a sweet little kiss on the top of her head. 

“They adored you, you know. Still do. In my meditations, Thaniel says he misses your melodies, the ones you’d play while we worked to restore the land”. 

Adeline smiled warmly, “I’m glad you’ve kept in touch. They are remarkable boys.”

“You’re remarkable. The way you brought joy to them amidst the shadow curse. It’s a rare gift, Adeline.”

She wanted to say something, to brush it away, but she knew he wouldn’t have any of that. 

“You have such a way with them - with children. I’ve always wondered… do you think about it? Having children of your own?”

Her breath stopped as she tried to work out her next words.

“It’s not something I can have, Halsin. Not anymore. I could adopt, maybe, but… Astarion is hardly the family man. And besides-” she paused, chucking bitterly, “I doubt a vampire would make a very good parent”. 

Halsin’s brow furrowed, “Do you believe that? That you’d be any less of a parent, because of what you are now?”

“Is it not true? Besides, that’s not the only reason” she admitted, thinking back to her own childhood. 

Halsin’s hand tilted her head up to look her in the eye, “a good parent isn’t defined by what they are or where they come from, but by the love they provide. And you, my heart, have plenty to give.”

She smiled, but underneath was a heavy load of grief. When she chose to become a vampire, she considered that ship long gone. 

“Come with me,” Halsin urged, “When all this is over - leave it all behind. Come to Thaniel’s realm. Your music, your energy - you could do so much good there. We could-”

She stopped him, “Halsin… you know I can’t. I’m bound to Asterion now. And even if he’d let me, I’d still choose him, you know that.”

“I know, I just want you to be happy,” he sighed, “I’m concerned for you, Adeline. Ever since the ritual, he seems… different”.

She swallowed hard. A part of her recognized the truth to it, but she didn’t want to admit it. To him, or herself.

“He’s just getting used to his new powers, that’s all. We both are, but you don’t have to worry, we are doing great.” 

She got up and pressed her lips to his. A gentle kiss – meant to convince them both. 

And when they parted, Halsin relented, “Alright, my heart. I won’t press you.”

He knew he couldn’t make her come with him. So, he held her tight, shielding her from the things she couldn’t admit.

Chapter Text

4 days had passed since Raphael’s visit and the hunger inside her had started clawing at her insides, making it hard to stand upright. Without Raphael’s interference, she knew she would have succumbed already. Astarion had certainly done his part to tempt her.

She writhed in her sheets, trying to dull the ache in her stomach by clenching onto the fabric. Her mind was fixed on two things. Blood. And as much as she hated to admit it… Raphael. Astarion had left a goblet of blood on her nightstand to taunt her, urging her to give in. It was driving her crazy, so she let her mind indulge.

She thought of Raphael. The way he had touched her – comforted her. She felt his fingers still on her waist and the warmth of his breath against her shoulder. She never expected his presence to be one of comfort, but it had been. Twice now. And she found herself missing it.

After a few moments, Astarion stood in the doorway. By the look on his face, she could tell his patience was thin. He lowered himself on the bed beside her, without saying a word.

Then he let out a deep sigh, “Little love. This rebellion of yours – it’s exhausting for both of us. Don’t you wish to join the festivities tomorrow?”

She said nothing and kept her eyes fixed on her lap. She could feel the way his eyes bore into her. His patience, too thin to tolerate her silence.

But with a deep sigh, he relented, “I understand this new power of mine has shaken you. And I admit, I could have made it easier on you. But this?” He gestured towards her, “This refusal, it is getting tiresome.”

She swallowed the lump in her throat and prepared to stand her ground, “I’ll eat once you let me see my friends.”

“Adeline, we’ve been through this. They don’t understand us and they hold us back.”

Her eyes returned to her lap. Why couldn’t he just let her see them? What was he so afraid of?. When she didn’t give him a response, he was done trying to reason.

He placed his hand on her thigh, nails digging slightly into her skin, “you will feed because I will not have you weakening yourself, do you hear me?”

“Why can’t you just let-"

“Enough!” he sneered, silencing her instantly. 

“You think you have a choice in this, darling? Let me be very clear. You. Do. Not. What you will do is drink, regain your strength and stop this nonsense. I have no interest in watching you waste away clinging to some distant past. I need you at your best tomorrow.”

He grabbed the goblet from the nightstand, “Drink. Now.”

Despite Raphael’s spell being inactive, her body didn’t instinctively heed his command. Odd …

But she still feared what he’d do if she disobeyed again. And the whole thing felt stupid. She thought he’d let her see her friends if she just pushed harder. If she held out long enough. But no. The whole thing was pointless and she was tired of being weak.

So she took the goblet and drank its content in one go. The blood woke her senses, and with it came an oppressive sense of gratitude .


“Good. Now, let’s not drag this any longer. Apologize.”

He watched her. Waited. And in that silence, her will felt less and less like her own. The idea of him being angry at her suddenly became unbearable. So, she swallowed hard as her vocal cords uttered the words, “I’m sorry, Astarion. I am so sorry”. 

“See? Was that so hard? I forgive you, dear.” 

A small part of her expected Astarion to apologize for striking her, but it never came. 

“Now allow me to bring you up to speed,” Astarion began, “You see, my ascension - most of its potential was locked, a failsafe of sorts. Mephistopheles - you know, the archdevil? Turns out, there was a hidden clause.”

She was happy to finally get an explanation, but her stomach writhed with worry she wouldn’t like it.

“But I did him a little favor, and in return, he unlocked my full potential. The second ritual was completed in the Hells, no less. Still with me, dear?”

She knew whatever “little favor” he had done for Mephistopheles was left vague for a reason, so there was no point in asking. Instead, she nodded. 

“And now that your little tantrum has been resolved, let's finally focus on the good things ahead. What I've accomplished". 

She remained quiet despite the anger that simmered beneath, when he reduced the last few days to a ‘tantrum’. 

“I’ve been… testing my new powers. And, oh, the results have been magnificent.”

He spread his arms slightly, as if presenting himself to her, “Regeneration without rest, strength beyond anything I imagined. I’ve become close to unstoppable, Adeline.”

As he spoke, she tried to fight the rise of her shoulders. What did this second ritual entail? 

“Ah, and then there’s the matter of our growing family. You may not have noticed the new faces among the spawn, confined here as you’ve been. The feast, my dear, was more than a treat. I allowed our spawn to drain them, leaving but a few drops, before I turned them. A shame you weren’t there to partake.” 

He spoke of the new spawn with such ease. No pretense. Just the cold truth - he had no qualms about the lives he had ruined. And the pit in Adeline’s stomach grew ever bigger.

“Come now, don’t look so grim. It’s not cruel, my dear. These people were nobodies, and now? Now, they get a share in my empire - Our empire”.

“And what of Mephistopheles? Are you finally done with him?” she asked finally. 

He paused for a second but ignored her question.

“Of course, I can’t take all the credit for our progress. Duvain has been… invaluable. He’s been working wonders with my blood. Potions, elixirs and all kinds of concoctions to enhance the spawn. They are stronger, faster and sharper than ever. And you, my love, will benefit from these wonders soon enough. Imagine the possibilities, Adeline. Everything we’ve dreamed of, finally within our grasp."

Despite how hard she tried to meet his eyes, to share in his joy, it was impossible. She didn’t care for power. She knew what she wanted, and she knew he’d never give it to her.

He had told her long ago, but she was too naïve to listen. A true vampire would never lose a slave and risk creating a competitor. But she thought their love would transcend reason. 

Astarion drew her attention back when he felt her slipping, “I know that all this talk of power, and empire doesn’t excite you the same way. And that’s perfectly fine. I’ll handle it.” 

“But I do have different news. News I think will excite you.”

“What kind of news?” 

“You see, Duvain’s brilliance is bigger than mere potions. He’s been working on something. Using my blood, he’s unlocked something I didn’t believe possible - until now.” 

“What possibility?” she asked as the furrow in her brow grew ever deeper.  

“A child, Adeline. Our child.” 

Chapter Text

Adeline froze. A child. 

“You see, Duvain has been experimenting for quite some time. Mina has been feeding on my blood as of late and Duvain, ever the innovator, has been mixing it with... well, gods only know what. But let’s not dwell on the tedious details, what matters is the results. And they are nothing short of miraculous. Her body is changing, flourishing under the influence of my blood. Every sign points to success, though we have not made any attempts yet. Thought we'd leave that... honor with you, love.”

After he proposed the idea of a child, she didn’t catch anything he said afterwards.  

He took her limp hand in his, “Imagine it, Adeline. You, my consort, undead, yet carrying life within you.” 

She didn’t know what to say nor what to think. She had given up on motherhood when she chose to turn. And besides, Astarion never wanted children. In fact, he seemed to despise most of them.  

Her hands trembled slightly as she forced herself to speak, “Why?” she asked, her voice in disbelief, “Why go through all this effort? I thought you didn’t want children. Not now, not ever - you made that very clear.”

“For you, my dear,” he said, squeezing her hand tighter, “You’ve been slipping away, and nothing I’ve done has brought you back.”

His gaze softened as his thumb rubbed on hers, “When you turned, you gave this up for me. Now, you don’t have to.”

The tenderness in his tone, the way he looked at her - it made her heart ache with hope that maybe, just maybe, the man she loved was still there trying to reach her.

“I…” she began, “I don’t know, Astarion. I need time to think.”

She didn’t pull her hand away, but so much had happened. Was this another ‘scrap’ that Raphael taunted her for clinging to? Could she truly forget everything that had happened for the sliver of hope she found in the softness of his eyes? 

“What is there to think about? This is a good thing, Adeline. For both of us.”

“It’s… a lot to take in.” 

“Of course, dear. I understand. Take your time, speak it over with Duvain if you must and tell me when you are ready.”

She nodded but her mind was already filling with questions. Could a child truly be raised in a place like this? Would this be the life she wanted for them - for herself? After everything she had become, did she still even want this? And would Astarion even accept her denying, yet another one of his gifts? 

His offer also cut open old wounds. A child wasn’t a cure for misery - she knew that too well. And things were different now. She may have wanted to be a mother once. Now? Now, it felt absurd.

Still, the events of the past few days vanished as she pondered the possibilities. She nestled into Astarion’s embrace as he drew the blanket over them. The warmth of his hold did little to ease the mess in her mind, despite how badly she had missed it. This could change everything. 

Raphael’s offer also came to mind. How could she bring a child into this world when she was so far from the person she wanted to be? So twisted, couldn’t even trust herself to know what was real anymore.

This wasn’t the state to make such a choice – such a crucial one. 

But she couldn’t let her mind linger on Raphael nor his offer, so she swallowed her worries and sought the comfort of Astarion's chest as he wrapped her up in the silken sheets. 

Chapter Text

The hall pulsed with life, clinking goblets and laughter. Astarion throned over it all like a sculpture.

Adeline stood behind with her hand on his shoulder, dressed in the finest silk and jewelry. 

Her eyes skimmed over the crowd. Nobles mingled with Astarion’s new spawn whose laughter was too loud and their movements too practised. They worked tirelessly, seeking Astarion’s favour.

Adeline’s eyes lingered on one of the nobles, Lord Darrow. A man Astarion had sought the favour of for weeks. She had tried to charm him herself at past gatherings. Tonight though, he seemed distant. And it had Adeline close to sore from twisting the ring on her finger. The line between Astarion’s favour and wrath was thin, and Lord Darrow was dangerously close to gaining the second.

“Adeline,” Astarion said, as his eyes pinned her in place. “This is a celebration. Smile.”

She blinked, pulling herself back to the moment and made her lips curve. 

“Make an effort, will you?”

She fought the urge to roll her eyes at his request and forced forth a more genuine smile.

Satisfied, he gestured toward the crowd. “Now, go. Mingle. Charm. They are all eager to meet you again.”

Adeline moved through the crowd. On the other side of the room, Mina stood with a tray of drinks in her hands. She went tense the second she spotted Adeline. She avoided eye contact and had been for a while. Yesterday, she learnt why.

“Mina,” she called softly. Mina flinched but stopped.

“About the experiments. About… all of it. I just wanted to say sorry, if… if they hurt you. I don’t want you to think I asked for this.”

“Lady Adeline, you should not apologize,” she let out quickly, as if the very idea was out of place, “Besides, it hasn’t been bad. The experiments… they don’t hurt. They’ve made me useful. Now, I feel like I have a place here.”

Adeline searched her face, looking for anger or pain, but found only an empty expression. She wasn’t the same girl who sought her comfort after turning. That girl was gone, replaced by someone who had fully embraced this new life. 

“I’m glad you’ve found your place,” she said, even though the words felt wrong.

Mina nodded as she went back to work.

Adeline understood it too well - the appeal of letting go. Being what he wanted her to be. And she had, for a long time. Convincing herself she was happy. 

But ever since Raphael’s spell, the facade had cracked. Making Astarion happy – seeking his approval, it wasn’t the first thought she woke up to anymore.

Her eyes next fell on Lord Darrow, the noble whose authenticity was a relief among all the scheming and politics.

“Lady Adeline. I was beginning to think you were avoiding me.”

“Never,” she replied, with a genuine smile.

For a moment, the world around them faded as they spoke of art and music.

And as their conversation flowed, she steered it carefully,  “Lord Darrow… I trust your time here has been worthwhile. Astarion often speaks of your... keen insights.”

“Does he now?”

No.

“Yes. He values visionaries, such as yourself. I hope you see the potential in what we’re building here - the opportunities we could extend to you.”

“It’s clear you’re building something big. But rising so quickly - surely there’s been a cost?”

Adeline hesitated, her heart pounding as she chose her next words. He was suspicious . “Of course, but those who work with us, find it worth paying.”

Adeline searched his expression - assurance, agreement, anything to hold onto.

“You’ve given me much to think about, Lady Adeline. You always do.”

“I hope you’ll consider it,” she said softly, despite the urgency her smile masked.

She returned to Astarions side.

“Well?”, he asked.

“Lord Darrow is… considering,”

“Considering, is he? No matter - we’ve indulged that do-gooder’s whims long enough.”

Her body dropped as she realised her fears would come to fruition. 

“Don’t fret, my love You’ll see him again. Only next time...” he leaned back with a glint of amusement in his eyes, “He’ll be far… tastier.”

The implication struck like a punch to her gut. Her eyes fell to the floor and breathing became harder. She wanted to say something. To argue. But she held her tongue, despite it being physically painful to do so. 

To speak would mean provoking a fight in front of his guests - a humiliation he would neither forgive nor tolerate. So she swallowed the anger. 

He got up and his fingers brushed her cheek, “You look tired, love. Take some rest.”

She nodded, grateful for the excuse to leave.

The quiet of the corridor allowed her a moment to breathe. This world was hollow.

She sought refuge on the balcony, wrapping herself in a blanket, looking over the city. 

Lord Darrow was a reminder of how little her efforts mattered. Her thoughts went to Astarion’s promise of a child, Raphael’s offer, Mina’s resignation - all circling back to the same question: What would be left of her if she stayed? And if they raised a child in this world, what kind of life would it have?

And what would a child mean to Astarion? Even before his ascension, the notion of fatherhood seemed so strange. Was this truly an act of love? Or was it another move in his game? Perhaps the child would serve as she did - a piece on display.

The questions churned inside her. This was no longer just about her; the thought of another life, so fragile, caught in their world. Could she truly allow such a thing?

Would she even have the choice? Could Astarion accept her refusal, after all this effort? Would he tolerate her refusing another one of his ‘gifts’?

She pulled the blanket tighter around herself. And that’s when she felt the air shift.

“You do brood beautifully,” the voice spoke. 

Raphael . A decision had to be made. Tonight.

She didn’t turn. Only wrapped the blanket tighter around herself. 

“You seem troubled, The grand party not to your liking?".

Adeline sighed, her grip on the blanket loosening slightly.

“It’s not the party and you damn well know it. Not entirely, anyway. It’s everything. I assume you caught it all, huh?” A bitter smile tugged at her lips. “Keeping tabs on your ‘wayward hero’ and all.”

He chuckled as he sat down next to her, “Indeed, but I’d like to hear it from you all the same. Tell me, dear, what’s eating at you?”

She weighed whether to speak or not. Finally, she sighed, “It’s the nobleman,” she admitted, “Darrow. Astarion has already decided he’s expendable. That he’ll be food once the festivities calm down.”

Raphael eyes narrowed with intrigue “Ah. Using the blood of those who no longer serve him to strengthen those who do. Tactical. Ruthless. Elegant in a sense.”

Tactical. Ruthless. Elegant. Of course . She was, at least, thankful, for the reminder that she was dealing with a devil.

“You would see it that way, wouldn’t you? You are both the same.” she bit back bitterly.

“Come now, Adeline. Do give me some credit. Astarion and I? We couldn’t be more different. He revels in violence for the sake of his own sadistic amusement. A child playing at godhood.”

This contempt was new. He never spoke like this about Astarion before the brain was defeated. She wondered what changed. Had Astarion done something to earn his ire? 

“I, on the other hand, am a man of refinement. Standards. I value rules, balance, and order. My claw is reserved for those who earn it - those foolish enough to break a deal they willingly signed. If Astarion had his way, the world would burn and he wouldn’t care - as long as he’s placed atop the ruins.”

He was wrong – Astarion wasn’t like that. Not entirely anyway.

“I don’t thrive on chaos, my dear. I correct it. I refine it. That is the difference between us.”

“He’s not…You’re wrong about him.”

“Am I? Do enlighten me.”

The image of Astarion’s smile yesterday, how he’d squeeze her hand as he spoke of starting a family. Adeline knew it was naive, but she clung to it nonetheless. 

“He isn’t what you think. Yes, he’s… changed. But he isn’t heartless. He’s not what you’re saying.”

“Not heartless? Shall I list his virtues, then? The lives he has taken. The families torn apart, because he wanted yet another spawn? Is that heartless enough for you? Cause I just scraped the surface.”

“It’s not like you are any better”, she bit back.

“I never claimed moral high ground dear, just laying out the facts of the matter.”

“Maybe this baby could change things,” she said, knowing it was stupid. Hoping Raphael would rebuke her. 

He didn’t disappoint,  “Adeline, are you truly this deluded, or is disappointing me your newest pastime? Do you honestly believe he’s doing this for your happiness? The man who orchestrated a massacre just to teach you a lesson - now dreams of fatherhood out of the goodness of his cold, dead heart?”

Her chest tightened, but she needed to hear it.

“This baby is nothing but a charming little distraction. A ploy to make you forget everything he’s taken from you.  He isn’t doing this for you.”

“You don’t know that.” she argued. But more so with herself than Raphael. 

“Oh, I’m not finished, dear. Here’s the part you’ll love. Listen carefully - this baby – it wasn’t even his idea.”

Adeline’s brows furrowed,  “What do you mean?”

“The good alchemist, ever so observant, told him about the little concoction you had him whip up. Duvain figured you were inclined toward… self-destruction. Or perhaps that you’d simply stop caring altogether.”

Was he telling the truth? How did he even know about this? About the concoction? About any of it...? 

“Astarion couldn’t have his precious doll, so dull. So, Duvain, in his brilliance, suggested a solution. A baby. A little ‘bundle of joy’ to keep you distracted.”

He paused, searching her face. The smirk on his face told Adeline he wanted her in turmoil. He wanted her confused. 

And then he spoke again, "But having a baby didn’t fix anything for your mother, and it won’t fix anything for you.”

Her head snapped up, “What do you know about my mother?” 

“Oh, my dear, I know a great deal about your family. Tragedy is my blood and butter, after all.”

“How?” she pressed, “I never told…” She trailed off, her thoughts churning. Not Astarion. Not Shadowheart. Only Halsin.

“Tell me,” she demanded, “How do you know? What do you know?”

“Why should I give away such precious secrets? Information is currency and this story is a treasure indeed.”

What information was he leveraging? Something about her family - about her father ? The possibility was something she couldn’t ignore.

“If you know something about my father… please, just tell me.”

“Oh, I’ll tell you everything. But not here, not now. What fun would that be? Come with me, Adeline. You'll get your answers and more still."

He cornered her. Tempted her with the idea of freedom and only then leveraging his winning hand. It annoyed her as much as it impressed her.

The fact that she was even considering this felt like madness. 

And before she could protest, he kept pushing, “Look at you. Your mind is a tangled mess, knotted with lies and illusions. Your love for him? It’s devoured you and spit. you. out. You can’t even see the truth when it’s staring you right in the face.”

Her body tensed under the pressure as her palms pushed into her temples. He just had to bring her father into this.  

“But you could,” Raphael swayed, “If you came with me. Freed yourself from his influence.”

She turned her face towards him, “And what do you get out of it, Raphael? What’s your price?”

“Would you believe me,” Raphael began, “if I said I hate seeing you tethered to his will? Your brilliance - all wasted on a creature like him.”

Adeline searched his face, desperate to find the lie she knew lay beneath. 

“No,” she said simply. 

“Well, of course not. You’re far too clever for that, aren’t you? Indeed, I have my uses for you. Is that what you want to hear? Would that make you feel more comfortable?”

“Yes. It would,” she said bitterly, “But there’s more to it than that, isn’t there? Something you’re not telling me.”

“Listen closely - you will not find me begging. If my aid doesn’t interest you, I’ll leave. Now. And when I’m gone, I won’t return.”

She couldn’t have that. She needed to know. Was he still alive? Did he abandon her?

“But if you choose to come with me, I’ll give you what you so desperately lack. Hear me out. And if, after all that, you’re foolish enough to crawl back to him, well… I’ll send you back, and this little charade can carry on exactly as it has. But now is the time to make your choice."

This was all too much. But his promises were hard to ignore. They were impossible to ignore. 

“I’m willing to try. I’m willing to hear you out” she said at last.

Chapter Text

A sinister smile grew at the sound of her words, “Excellent.”

With a snap, the balcony dissolved and the air grew hot around her. The heat of Avernus . Once she regained her balance, the room in front of her felt like a memory.

Vibrant rugs layered the floor. A cluttered desk placed in the corner filled with leather notebooks and ink. In a corner, her violin rested.  Did he take it?

The closet was slightly ajar, showing glimpses of blouses and dresses in bold and rich colours. The kind of clothing she wore, before Astarion insisted everything, including her wardrobe, fit his aesthetic. She walked around, taking the space in with awe.

"What is this?” 

Raphael leaned casually against the doorway, admiring his work. “It can be your new bedroom. Does it meet your expectations? I do pride myself on the details.”

She swallowed, “Why?”

“I want you to feel at home here,” he answered matter of factly. 

He gestured toward the closet, “Change into something more... comfortable. When you’re ready, meet me in my office. We have much to discuss.”

He turned and left. 

Adeline stood rooted in place as her eyes travelled to the violin, the books, the colours. Each detail promising a better life. 

She pulled open the closet door. The fabrics inside were soft and flowing. And when she removed her corset and slipped on a teal blouse she felt like she could finally breathe. Before leaving, she tilted her head and a slow smile came - there was no mirror. Then she made her way to him. 

Raphael’s office was far more imposing than the humble space he had prepared for her. The tall bookshelves framed the room and at the centre stood his desk, neatly arranged with paperwork and an hourglass marking time.

“Adeline,” he began, gesturing to the chair before him. “Do sit.”

After slightly hesitating, she sat down. 

“Let us discuss the terms of this arrangement.”

Adeline furrowed her brow, “You speak as if it’s concluded. I said I’d hear you out.” 

“Of course, dear.” 

He began by speaking of her freedom to roam and explore his house, “Nod if you understand.”

She nodded. 

“There will be no talking to Astarion for the duration of this deal, unless I give you permission. No goodbyes, no dramatic confessions. None of it.”

She nodded again but slower this time. 

“You may, however, see your companions. But should you do so, know that it places them in danger. Astarion will stop at nothing to find you.”

“He wouldn’t hurt them over a mere visit.”

“Adeline, I’ve encountered many things in my time, but your naivety is the only thing that's truly surprised me. How can someone so skilled at spinning webs not see when they’re caught in one? He will hurt anyone who knows where to find you. Stop pretending otherwise. It does you no favours any more.”

Adeline’s shoulders sank. Honestly, she was just as puzzled. 

“What else?”

“Once a week my powers will be at your disposal, to travel where you see fit. You may explore your past or simply experience the world in whatever way you wish. It is yours, Adeline. But let me be clear. This freedom is bound by the same clause: no contact with Astarion. Not even a whisper, unless I say so.” 

She nodded, but the idea of vanishing without a goodbye, made the motion heavier. 

“Now, onto your duties. You’ll be given plenty of free time, but every now and again, your skills will be put to good use. My clients are often... hesitant, shall we say, when it comes to matters of deals and devils. You will be called on to persuade them.”

“I didn’t come here to push deals on mortals. I thought it’d be different. You promised-”

“I promised to help you reclaim what you’ve lost,” he interrupted, “You were never a saint, Adeline. You’ve spun words to selfish ends before. And let’s not forget the price of your beloved’s ascension. How many souls were sacrificed at your behest? Do you remember the way they screamed?”

Her silence spoke loudly enough. She remembered. Vividly.

“Be honest with yourself. You know you’ll enjoy this. Charming people, reading their desires, finding out what makes them tick. It’s what you do best. You'll revel in it - just as you always have.”

He wasn’t wrong. She enjoyed the power she held over people. In the past, she used it to inspire, to lift others up and push them toward something better. But not always . Perhaps this was the lesser evil. Better to exploit people’s greed than sink her fangs into innocents with Astarion. 

“There are some additional clauses,” Raphael said, his tone sharpening with a measured edge. “A protection clause: should Astarion behave less than… hospitably upon your return, the House of Hope will remain your sanctuary.”

A protection clause. Would Astarions punishment be too harsh to tolerate? Could he ever forgive her if she made this deal? The clause was meant to reassure, but it only unsettled her further.

“And a secrecy clause. Should any secrets you learn here slip past your lips, this contract will be considered broken. And then your soul will belong to me .”

Was she really about to gamble her soul a second time? She vividly remembered Karlach's reprimand, the first time around. But she had to take that risk. Not only because she had to escape Astarion. But because Raphael had answers. 

“And you’ll tell me everything you know about my father?”

“Yes, I’ll tell you everything.”

“And how long would I stay?”

“Three months,” he said simply.

Three months . It wasn’t a very long time, but it was long enough. Long enough for Astarion to seethe. Long enough for him to imagine the cruellest ways to make her pay for breaking his loyalty.  But also, long enough to think. To plan ahead. To rid herself of Astarions influence and know what she truly wants. 

Then Raphael snapped his fingers. Light materialized into a parchment that floated onto the desk before her. 

Her thoughts pressed against her skull as she tried to make sense of it all . Astarion. The idea of disappearing from his life without a word clawed at her heart. Would he grieve? Would he rage? She could almost picture him tearing through the city, his fury lighting up the streets as he hunted for what was supposed to be his. 

Images of Astarion’s tender moments also flashed through her mind - when he held her close, whispering words of affection. His touch could be so gentle. So gentle it felt as if no one could ever love her as deeply as he did.

She remembered the moment she realized she loved him. When he confessed to her that he’d played her – that he had fallen for her without ever intending to. And when she had hugged him to show him, she truly cared. 

But then came the darker memories. How his face changed after the ritual. The forged letters. The slap that burned on her cheek. And then there was the child he promised - not a gift, but the plot of a mad alchemist. Another leash wrapped in love. 

And now she sat at the desk of a devil, hoping to retrieve who she once was. She truly was desperate. 

And then at last, she reached for the quill with shaky hands. Each letter, written slowly. 

When it was done, she stared at her name, now bound to the infernal contract. Had she doomed herself?

Did it matter ? Deep down, she couldn’t escape the feeling that if everything else failed – the hells seemed a rather fitting place for her soul .

Chapter Text

“I signed the deal, now tell me about my father. Is he alive?” Adeline demanded.

“Very well, your father. A drunk, a gambler, a patron of places best left unspoken. What little he had, he wasted on fleeting pleasures, while you and your mother were left to scrape by on crumbs.”

The words stung, because they weren’t untrue. Her mother’s drunken outbursts had painted the same picture.

“Get to the point,” she demanded. 

“One night, I found him at Sharess’ Caress,” Raphael continued, leaning back in his chair, “He’d come into a small sum - earned or gambled, who’s to say? Did he use it to pay his debts? To bring food to his family? Of course not. He squandered it on ale and courtesans, drowning himself in self-pity.”

She feared where this was going but kept her wits, “And that’s when you swooped in, isn’t it?”

“You make it sound so dramatic. No, I didn’t ‘swoop.’ I observed. I listened. And when the moment came, I offered… perspective. Shall I tell you what I said to him?”

She remained silent, refusing to give him the satisfaction of a response. 

“I told him he was a lousy father. That if he stayed, he would drag you down with him. I offered him to give you a future. And then…” he paused for effect, “I offered him an escape. A simple exchange: his soul, in return for you, his only daughter becoming more than he ever was.”

The pieces all fell together and the final picture made her sick to her stomach.

“He took the deal, of course.”

For a moment, her eyes were fixed in her lap, wide with disbelief. When she lifted them, her fists clenched at her sides, “Are you saying you were the one who took my father away from me? That you took his soul?”

Raphael was quick to correct himself, “I didn’t take him from you, Adeline. He gave himself willingly. Do not romanticize the man - it wasn’t much of a loss.”

“He was my father! You had no right,” she snapped as she stood from her chair. “He could have stayed. He could have tried.”

“Stayed? Tried?” he echoed mockingly. “He would have spent his days squandering what little he had left. He sold his soul because it was all he had to give.”

“You don’t know that!” 

“Oh, but I do. I saw him for what he was - a man with no fight and no future. His second greatest act of fatherhood was removing himself from your life. His first was leaving you in far more… capable hands. Before Astarion, I’d say I did a fine job, don’t you think?”

Adeline's nails sank into her palms. “You expect me to pat you on the back and thank you for a job well done? For manipulating a desperate man – for manipulating my father? For making me believe he abandoned me all these years?”

“No, I don’t expect gratitude. But consider this - without me, where would you be? Singing for scraps in some miserable tavern? Married to some drunkard no better than your father?” 

Doubt crept in. She always believed herself lucky. Always found it hard to take pride in her own achievements. How much of it was his doing? 

Raphael observed as she tried to make sense of it all. 

Finally, he put an end to her churning, “I won’t take all the credit, dear. Your wit, your instincts and your skill - those were always yours. I simply ensured you weren’t… snuffed out before you had the chance to use them. A few opportunities sent your way, here and there.”

She was angry, but struggling to find the words, she began to feel dizzy. She pressed her finger to her temple and sat back down.  

Raphael let her have a moment before continuing, “I’ll admit… At first, I thought you were just a simple deal, an easy soul in exchange for a few nudges. But you... surprised me. My little deal with your father? It became a far greater investment than I anticipated. I might have... added a few more nudges than our bargain required. You became something of a pet project, Adeline.”

A pet project? What did that even mean? 

“Until Astarion came stomping over all my hard work. But by then, my investment had already paid off. The crown was in my hands, so what did it matter?”

She wanted to argue, to express her anger, but she saw no point. He was a devil. Manipulative and self-serving. Outrage felt hollow. A devil acts as a devil does. So with a deep breath, she sank back into the chair. 

“Is that why you came back? To pull me away from Astarion? To fulfil your end of the deal?”

“The deal was to make you more than he ever was - a bar so low it took barely a push. My contract with your father ended long ago. Everything after? That, my dear, was entirely my choice.”

“Then why?” she pressed, “After all this time?”

“Astarion stole something from me. So, I took something from him. Something that would leave him… outraged. And it’s not like you have nothing to offer. I think you will make an excellent addition to my house of hope.”

As far as devilish intentions went, it could have been worse. But there was more to the story, she was sure.

“What did he steal?”

"A mace. Infused with a fragment of the Karsite Weave. It was crafted to subdue devils and infernals of all kinds. The weapon I used to dominate and defeat Zariel herself. Dis and Minauros, following shortly after.”

The pieces fell into place, “His little favour for Mephistopheles...”

“Yes. Indeed. Astarion has become quite the errand boy. But it hardly matters. I still have the crown, and the mace cannot be wielded without it. In Mephistopheles’ hands, it is little more than an ornament.”

“Then why does he want it?” 

“Fear. Afraid that my rise threatens his own. Asmodeus likely told him to act before I conquer more layers of the Hells.”

“I see… So, you took me… as revenge?”

“Indeed. A fitting strike, wouldn’t you say?”

Adeline thought it a tad anticlimactic. 

“So, you defeated Zariel, what of Mizora?”

“Dead,” Raphael replied simply. 

“So Wyll is free?!”

“Yes. And so is Karlach. In exchange for my assistance, she gave the blood war one final blow. Fixing her was a trivial matter, and, naturally, she relished the opportunity to take down Zariel.”

Adeline blinked rapidly, “You were the one who fixed her engine?” 

“Yes. With access to Zariel’s forge and all her thralls under my command, her engine was hardly a challenge.”

Karlach was free - truly free. Not only from her engine, but Zariel’s grasp as well. She longed to see her again, but there were still too many questions that needed answering.

“And the tadpoles? Is this deal with my father, how you found out about us?”

“Indeed. I sent someone to check on you every once a while, report back to me. It was through that I learned of your... predicament.”

“So, you started scheming.”

“Of course. Opportunity knocks, you answer.”

“It was then I decided to approach you back at the druid’s grove. To introduce myself... properly. I was quite brief the first time around.”

Her brow furrowed, “What are you talking about? When was the first time?”

“It was many years ago. You were playing your violin in some run-down inn. I happened to be in the area. Corilla mentioned you had potential, so I thought Id see for myself. After you finished playing, a drunkard cornered you. Demanding more than a tune. The room was noisy, crowded, and no one noticed. No one but me.”

The memory stirred in the back of her mind. A memory she hadn’t retrieved in years. She saw herself, in her late teens, clutching her violin as her heart pounded in her chest. She remembered the man, the ale on his breath and the way his hand had gripped her wrist. And then… the shadow. A figure whose mere presence had made the man back off.

“That was you?”

“Yes.”

Her voice softened. “Why didn’t you stay? I wanted to thank you.”

“I held my end of the bargain,” Raphael replied matter-of-factly.

The thought left her feeling strange. She thought it was an angel, in all her childish innocence. 

“It makes sense now. Why I trusted you so easily. Even when I knew I shouldn’t.”

“Seems to me, I’m the only one you ever could rely on.”

“No.” Her voice cut sharper, “I have Karlach. Shadowheart. Wyll. Halsin. I trust them with my life.”

“And yet, not one of them came to free you from Astarion’s grasp. They moved on, didn’t they? Living their lives while you were trapped. Alone, isolated. Until… I stepped in.”

“That’s not true. They care. They would help if they could. And you only did it to spite Astarion. If I asked any of them, I wouldnt have to sign a paper."

“Perhaps they would, perhaps they wouldn’t. Regardless, it is my intervention you’ve relied upon.”

She had no rebuttal. Not because there was none, but because her mind was numbed by all the revelations, one after the other.

Raphael noticed, “Return to your quarters. Reflect. We’ve talked enough for one day”

She did as he said.

And when she reached her bedroom, she dropped onto the sheets. Her mind, a huge disorienting fog.

Her father’s soul - sold to a devil.

She had held onto a sliver of hope, he was still alive. That Raphael could tell her where to find him. But he was gone. Consumed or traded away for power. Like all things she found worth keeping.

Raphael’s manipulation stoked nothing but hatred. Yet, as the memories resurfaced, she couldn't find a solid ground for it. Her father had been broken long before Raphael. She could still recall the nights he stumbled home reeking of ale.

He couldn’t see a way forward. A cowards escape for sure, but also a desperate act of love. She would prefer he stepped up, but at least he didn't abandon her. Leave her with nothing. Even if it was... Raphael. 

She always thought herself lucky or blessed by the God's. But now she knew the truth. It was never divine intervention. It was him. 

Had he simply taken her to spite Astarion? Raphael was a cambion - half human, half devil. Surely that trace of humanity left some capacity for care?

He had known her for a long time. Comforted her when she was hurt. And he prided himself on being there when no one else was.

Was any of it real? And why did she care? Why couldn't she simply be angry?

Chapter Text

Adeline woke slowly. She sank further into the sheets and hardly felt the aching amount of space next to her. 

After a few minutes, she put her legs over the side of the bed. When her toes touched the floor, the warmth of it brought deep breath of relief. There was no cold. No chills clinging to her skin. It no longer haunted her. 

The act of preparing her own bath felt strange yet oddly satisfying. But as she bathed, the guilt measled its way in. She pictured him - searching for her, his fury and… the hurt. It pained her more than
the punishments he had inflicted this past year. 

After finishing her bath, she left her bedroom. She spotted Raphael at the dining table perusing a document spread before him. A tray of food was laid out at the seat opposite him. Fresh fruit, pastries, and a goblet of blood. Clearly for her.

“Good morning,” Raphael said without looking up “I trust you’re finding the accommodations... to your liking?”

Adeline found the question stupid, “You are well aware they are. You designed them that way.” 

He didn't say anything, but the smirk told her he was pleased with himself. 

She sat down, her body stiff and unsure. The hall was silent, except for the rustle of paper when he turned the pages. 

“Drink,” Raphael ordered at last, still not looking up.

She reached for the goblet and took a sip. The taste of human blood was unmistakable and it had her pause. 

Raphael noticed, “Spare yourself the guilt. He was a dead man, whether you were joining me for breakfast or not. Now, his demise may serve us both.”

She wondered, who had he been? What had he done to deserve this? But the hunger gnawed more than her curiosity. So, she drank up. 

After a short time, Adeline’s gaze went to Raphael. His focus was still fixed on the document. But the small curve of his lips told her he was perfectly aware of her attention.  

“May I ask you something?” she attempted. 

“That depends entirely on the question.”

She hesitated, her thumbs rubbing against each other, “Was this deal you made with my father, the reason you never… you know?”

Raphael finally looked her in the eye, “I’m afraid you’ll need to be more specific.”

She cleared her throat, her gaze darting away, “Why you never… indulged me? Was it because of the deal? Because of how you’ve ‘looked after’ me?”

She wondered if Raphael restrained himself, due to some paternal affection that developed over the years. She wasn’t sure what answer she wanted. 

“No,” he replied simply, “That was not why.”

“Then why?”

He didn’t answer. She waited, but none came. 

Adeline sighed and turned her focus back to the pastries she had started snacking on. She wondered if he wasn’t interested in sex, which was unlike devils, if what she had heard was true. 

After a while, the silence pressed on her again and there were too many questions gnawing on her to fill it. 

“What’s it like? Being a cambion, I mean. Half-devil, half-human. Are you capable of… sadness? Friendship? ... Affection?”

He set the paper down deliberately, leaning back in his chair. 

“Affection?” he echoed, the word laced with disdain. “No, Adeline. Devils are not ‘affectionate’. We are not burdened by such... frailties.”

“But you’re not fully a devil,” she pressed. “Doesn’t that change anything?”

“No.”

She fell silent, unsure if she struck a nerve or simply bored him. Her questions shifted to safer ground, asking about the Hells and the war. He humoured her occasionally. And when their conversation drifted to poetry and the musical arts, something shifted. She had found her way in. They didn't bond - she wouldn't call it that, but there was a shared passion there, and she caught a glimpse of something... human . 

But once her questions turned more personal, she met a wall. 

Finally, after one such question, Raphael set his papers aside, “Quite the inquisitive one today, aren’t you?”

"You didn’t answer my question.”

“Because your curiosity knows no bounds. Not even a full day in my company, and already you’re back to your insufferable ways. Give it another, and I’m sure you’ll have turned my house upside down with whatever chaos you manage to conjure.”

Adeline blinked, surprised by the jab, before a laugh escaped her. “Well, so long as you remember… you brought this on yourself.”

“Was that a laugh, my dear?” he teased. 

She shook her head, the smile lingering. “Don’t flatter yourself.”

He raised his goblet in a toast, “Soon enough, you’ll be back to your cheerful self. And Astarion? He will be livid when I tell him it took just a day in my company to accomplish what he could not.”

Her smile faded, “You plan to tell him? I thought you wanted him kept in the dark.”

“For now,” Raphael replied, his tone turning colder. “I’ll let him stew a little longer, let the uncertainty eat at him. Then, when the time is perfect, I’ll reveal everything.”

Adelines stomach tightened as he spoke. 

“He’s already unravelling. After the party, when he didn’t find you? He nearly tore the mansion apart in his rage, sending the guests fleeing in terror. He’s on the edge, my dear - one step away from madness.”

She felt her body shrink, “Madness?”

“Oh, yes. He is crumbling. He’s consumed by one thing - finding you. Which,” he added with a sharp grin, “is exactly where I wanted him. And, if you’re honest, exactly where you want him too.”

“That’s not what I want.”

“Isn’t it? A part of you must find satisfaction in seeing him like this. The great ascendant vampire undone by the one thing he thought was his to control - you. And let’s not forget, you want Baldur's Gate in his hands as little as I do.”

The last part was true . But there was no satisfaction in her. The fact that he insinuated that, irked her. She didn’t come here to spite him. She set her fork down with a frustrated sigh, “May I be dismissed?”

Raphael chuckled, “Dismissed? My dear, while I appreciate the reverence, it’s misplaced. You’re free to come and go as you please - within reason, of course. That said, I’d much prefer it if you stayed.”

“Why? I’ve already signed the contract. Besides, you’re either ignoring me, half-humouring me, or deliberately trying to irritate me. So why should I?”

Raphael chuckled and placed a hand over his heart, “My sincerest apologies, dear. Please, settle back down.  I do enjoy your company. And that goblet won’t sate you for long. Shall I summon a debtor to bring you more? If you ask nicely, I’ll even humour a few more of your questions.”

“You’ve already gotten what you wanted. So why do you keep up this pretence?”

“Pretence? My dear, I’m a devil, not a brute. You are my guest. Our contract guarantees we will be seeing much of each other, so why ruin our time with unpleasantry, when we could enjoy each other’s company instead?”

She eyed him for another moment before settling back in her seat, “Fine.” 

She was still hungry, and if nothing else, she might as well use the opportunity to learn a thing or two. 

Chapter Text

Adeline had spent a week at the House of Hope, adjusting to her new surroundings. She had wandered the halls, explored the library, and simply allowed herself to breathe. 

But the loneliness was stronger here than she’d expected. Raphael’s company was engaging for sure. Unbound by the secrecy clause, she found herself intrigued by the things he shared. 

But it wasn’t enough. And he was a busy man.

Her writing helped a little. She had begun piecing together the parts of her journey that Volo had missed. 

And now, she had chosen a place for her first night out. The place where she first performed on a stage. She could have chosen to see her companions, but she didn’t want to put them in danger and in all honesty, she wasn’t ready to see them just yet. Admit that once more, she had made a deal with Raphael. 

Across the table, he sat with his normal composure. He was there to ensure her safety, but trreating him like a mere chaperone felt awkward. So, she engaged him instead. After all, she didn’t know anyone there and he wasn’t the worst company.

After telling him about a song she had been working on, the conversation steered as to why she chose to come here of all places. 

“There was this bard once, years ago. I was just a kid, in the corner over there, playing my violin for coins, shortly after my mother died. When I was done, he came over and gave me pointers - real ones. Then, he offered me lessons. I was lucky. A few weeks later, I was performing on that stage – making a name for myself.”

Raphael tilted his head, “Lucky?” he echoed, almost teasing, “I suppose that’s one way to look at it.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” 

“Let’s just say the bard didn’t happen upon you by chance.” 

“What are you saying?”

“I’m saying that your ‘lucky’ encounter was hardly a coincidence. I sent him.”

“You sent him?”

 “Yes."

Adeline’s grip tightened on the glass, “So, just how much of my life have you been managing?”

“A nudge here and there. When you were a child, I mostly made sure your mother's neglect didn’t kill you before you had a chance to get anywhere. Corilla thought it no easy feat with all the trouble you got into.

Later, I focused on upholding my end of the bargain – sending a few opportunities, like that bard. The rest, my dear, was all you. Your father sold his soul rather cheaply, I must say.”

Amidst the bitterness, there was relief. She could take some credit, at least. 

Her fingers brushed the rim of her glass in a nervous motion. When she finally spoke, her voice was hesitant, “So… all this time, you’ve been watching over me.” She glanced at him, choosing her words carefully, “You once said you’d grown ‘fond’ of me… in your own way.”

“I did.”

“Was that before or after the tadpoles? Did you care at all what happened to me?”

Some part of her wanted to believe that, in his own way, Raphael might have felt a sliver of affection for her, growing up. 

“No,” he said flatly, “You were an obligation. Devils do not cradle the young, Adeline, not even those carved from their own flesh and blood. Whatever it is you’re searching for - you won’t find it in me.”

His words were sharp, but she appreciated the honesty. And perhaps it was for the best - the other alternative would have made the fantasies she had engaged in… awkward. 

“Devils do not nurture, my dear - they shape. Children are not cherished; they are weapons to be forged and wielded."

His words carried disdain… and for a moment, his eyes revealed something - something raw. Was it anger? Contempt? 

She almost asked what it was like growing up under Mephistopheles, but she didn't dare go there. He wasn’t just laying out the facts of the matter. She saw the ache of something missing – a feeling she knew all too well. And knew he wouldn't appreciate her prodding at. 

“Of course, I had no such intentions for you,” he continued, “My only aim was to settle my debt to your father and be rid of you. But, as fate would have it, you proved... intriguing. I grew fond of you because of your skill and wit – for what you have to offer. My care never extended beyond that of a merchant guarding his investment, waiting to collect his profit”

“Right…” 

Adeline thought for a moment, before asking her next question, “You watched over me for quite some time… Why didn’t you help my mother? Losing both my parents surely didn’t set me up for success.”

“Your father made no deal for her. And you are wrong. Her death was, without question, one of the best things to happen to you.”

Her brow furrowed, “I refuse to believe you’re this cruel.”

“Am I wrong? Think about it. Once the grief subsided, you flourished. You seized your future, no longer burdened by taking care of someone who had already given up. Why extend both your misery?”

She wanted to be angry at him for assuming she was better off. Her mother could have gotten better, he could have helped her. But he was a devil; expecting anything else was foolish. He did what served him, the rest be damned. 

This was her night so she let the misery slide away, drowning it in the warmth of wine instead.

She poured another glass, before lifting the glass and emptying it in one long motion. 

“I trust you’re keeping count.” 

Adeline raised her glass in a mock toast, “This is my night, remember? I’ll drink as much as I please.” She didn’t miss the implication, but she wasn’t about to let him ruin her mood. 

“Oh, by all means, indulge to your heart’s content. Who am I to stop you?”

She kept filling her glass, the wine flowing as freely as her words began to. She steered the conversation onto lighter topics, as she grew sloppier with each sip. She found herself spilling all kinds of scrapped stories over the years. 

And after a while, her laughter started bubbling over, loud and unrestrained. Her gestures became broader and her stories more animated. 

~

Across the table, Raphael’s smirk had faded, replaced by a grimace as his patience thinned. His eyes were on the nearly empty bottle, then back to her. He didn’t know how to handle her in this state.

“Quite the spectacle you’re making. Shall we call it a night? Or are you aiming to drain the inn’s supply in one night?”

Adeline waved him off with a dismissive laugh, her movements exaggerated, “This is my night,” she slurred, “You said I could indulge. So let me. Indulge.”

The thought of having to drag her back to her quarters, like some common drunk, left a sour taste in his mouth. 

“The apple doesn’t fall far from the tree, does it?” Raphael mocked. 

Her brow furrowed slightly, before brushing his comment off. 

When she didn't react, he pushed further, “I’m sure your father would be proud. Maybe he’d raise a glass in your honour - assuming he could stay upright long enough to toast. Is this really how you wish to spend your evening?”

~

Adeline’s laughter grew harder to uphold under his mocking tongue. 

She raised her glass again, draining it in one long gulp. But it did nothing to quell the ache forcing its way up her throat. The room closed in around her, growing smaller every second. 

She tried to force another laugh, but the sound was sharp and fractured. A crushing wave of guilt, anger, and grief hit her. 

Her shoulders began to tremble. The first sob broke through, raw and unrestrained, quickly followed by another. 

She had left Astarion . Walked away without a word, without a goodbye. He’d hurt her, yes, but he was always there to mend what he’d broken. And now she had no one . And she had chosen to walk away, leaving him to spiral, to rage, to hurt in ways she couldn’t bear to imagine. 

And here she was, sitting across from Raphael, the man who stole her father, with tears streaking down her face. How pathetic. 

His sharp eyes shredded every ounce of dignity she had left. She’d played right into his hands. Just another broken pawn with nowhere else to go. She was a mess. A miserable, desperate mess. And she deserved every ounce of that misery. 

Raphael stiffened across from her. For a moment, he said nothing, his eyes narrowing as he assessed the scene before him. 

“Adeline. You’re making a scene.”

She tried to respond, to apologize, but the words were swallowed by her sobs. Raphael sighed, his foot drumming against the floor. He glanced around the room, “Adeline,” he said again, “Compose yourself.”

When she didn’t respond, his gaze hardened, “If you can’t pull yourself together, then we’ll have to end this night early.”

Adeline tried - she really did - but her efforts crumbled and only resulted in louder sobs.

~

He watched her. Comforting her before was a means to an end. But now? Now there was no strategy, no advantage to be gained. Just a mess of emotions he didn’t have the tools to handle.

Enough was enough.

With a snap of his fingers, the inn dissolved and the background chatter was replaced by the quiet of her bedroom. Adeline’s body leaned against him as she struggled to keep upright. Raphael slipped her arm around him guiding her to the bed.

“Sit,” he ordered as he bent down to remove her shoes. Once done, he gestured toward the bed, his expression hard, “Lie down. Sleep.”

“Don’t leave,” she mumbled.. “I can’t… I don’t want to be alone.”

Raphael stilled. The instinct to recoil was strong. Her fragility, pathetic . Yet, something kept him planted, despite himself. 

With a sharp inhale, he relented. Figured he might as well stay until she fell asleep. So, he lowered himself onto the bed beside her and he wrapped the blanket around her.

As her breathing slowed and her trembling stopped, she shifted closer. He stiffened but made no move to stop her. The feeling of her against him was strange, foreign. He muttered complaints under his breath, trying to convince himself he had stayed purely out of necessity. 

Chapter Text

Adelines head throbbed, and her thoughts were a foggy mess as she stirred half asleep. She wasn’t ready to face the day yet.  She felt the presence beside her. Astarion . Instinctively, she curled up closer, pressing a soft kiss to his chest. Gods, she had missed this.

“Getting comfortable, are we?” 

Her eyes flew open, and she backed away. The voice wasn’t Astarion’s .

She stared at him, half-dazed and wholly horrified, “Raphael?”

He lounged beside her, with that smug look of his, “Good morning, dear.” 

She scrambled upright, scanning the scene. They were clothed. Thank the gods .

“What are you doing here?”

“Well,” he began, casually, “when I tried to leave, you made these rather pitiful noises and clung to my shirt like your very life depended on it. Once my irritation waned, I found it rather... amusing.”

Adeline sighed as she dragged her hands over her face, “Gods, I was a mess, wasn’t I?”

Raphael leaned back, clearly savouring the moment,  “Oh, absolutely. I assume we’ll be going easy on the wine from now on?” 

“Yes,” she bellowed, her voice muffled by her hands. “Gods, yes.”

“I must admit, it wasn't the most comfortable arrangement. At one point, you got a tad... grabby.”, he teased.

Adeline peeked at him through her fingers, “Why didn’t you just leave?”

“What can I say? I couldn’t miss this show. And, well, I must admit” he added, his tone more... contemplative , “you truly did seem… fragile.” 

“I see…” she mumbled, lowering her hands. 

She hesitated, glancing at the bed, then back at him. The memory of curling into him, mistaking him for Astarion, resurfaced. Despite everything, his chest had been… comforting.

“Could I…” she began, “Could we stay a little longer?”

Raphael blinked, the question clearly caught him off guard. 

Then his poise returned, "Can't get enough of me? My legs are stiff, you know. Keeping my human form isn't how I normally sleep. But I figured, waking up to a devil might be a tad… unsettling." 

"I... appreciate the thought. But my head is throbbing and-”, she paused, not wanting to admit the words that next spilled out, “you felt good. I don't care which form you take, I just want somewhere warm to rest, at least till this headache goes away."

With a snap of his fingers, his human form dissolved. She had seen him in this shape before, but never this close. His red skin was full of ridges with regal horns complementing his sharp features. She couldn't help admiring it like she would a work of art. Oddly beautiful. He had a change of clothes as well. Less imposing.

“Well? Still want to curl up to this, dear?”

"Yes..." 

He opened his arms slightly, “Then, by all means.”

She settled against him and closed her eyes. His body radiated so much warmth she couldn’t help but snuggle closer. Then curiosity got the better of her. She started tracing the ridges with her finger. 

~

Raphael didn’t move, didn’t speak. But his eyes looked downward. It was… curious . She wasn’t afraid of his true form. On the contrary, she seemed drawn to it. Her touch was inquisitive, tracing the contours of his skin with a reverence he didn’t expect. He found it oddly… pleasant.

His eyes then drifted to her face. Her sculpted cheekbones. The way her eyes tilted upwards, lashes full. All framed by her long fiery hair. Avernus suited her. And he found himself wondering, would it be difficult to paint her ? 

He then noticed the way her lips parted slightly against his chest, how her body pressed close. 

How… needed he felt. 

His hand hovered near her waist wrestling with the desire to pull her closer, unsure if she’d pull back if he tried. 

Haarlep had never touched him like this. Haarlep hadn’t needed to. He was there under his command. And Raphael wouldn't ask him for this. And yet with Adeline nestled against him, her soft breaths brushing his chest, it felt... good. Too good. And he found himself wanting to pull her closer still, perhaps... beneath him. 

Astarion killed Haarlep when he stole the mace and he had not sought another since. And now, as she lay there, nestled in his arms, perhaps… perhaps she was still willing to …? 

Then, Adelines eyes popped open and her body went rigid. 

“Raphael!” she shouted as she pushed herself away. 

“What?” he puzzled. 

Then he followed her eyes downward, and understood. 

Adeline froze, her wide eyes flickering between his expression and… well, that . Her cheeks flushed as she averted her gaze, but not before the sight left its impression. 

He noticed her reaction. The avoidance of eye contact and the way her face reddened. Her fluster amused him, but her retreat? It left an unwelcome pang. One he wasn’t willing to show.

Instead, his smirk returned, sharp and teasing, "Well, my dear, there is no use hiding it.”

“Could you - could you not? Gods, Raphael!” 

“Why, dear, it’s hardly my fault you’re such a tease. Snuggling up like that with your lips so dangerously close. Perhaps a little accountability is in order?”

Adeline shot him a glare, “Seriously?”

“You know, I can see the curiosity in your eyes. You are most welcome to take a seat. I won’t stop you this time.”

“Gods, Raphael!” she snapped, “What is wrong with you? This was a mistake. Let’s just get up and pretend this never happened.”

He straightened and adjusted the collar of his shirt. Then he took a deep sigh, “Okay, dear. Let’s consider this little… incident forgotten.”

Adeline turned her back to him and pulled the blanket tightly around her. 

Her reaction stung more than he cared to admit. 

But if she wasn’t interested, how had she even noticed? It wasn’t as if it was in her face — so she must have stolen a glance to begin with. 

Chapter Text

Raphael stepped back as the portal materialized before them. Adeline’s pulse quickened. 

“Tick-tock,” Raphael urged, “I won't hold the portal open forever. Make it count.”

She glanced at him, unsure of what to say. 

“Thank you," she landed on. 

“I keep my promises, dear. Now go.”

With a deep breath, she stepped forward and let the portal swallow her. She found herself in a small, cozy home. Her nerves were shaking with anticipation. 

“Addie!” a voice yelled. And before Adeline saw her, a rush of excitement barrelled into her, wrapping her in a hug so tight it drove the air from her lungs.

Adeline laughed breathlessly, “Karlach, I can’t breathe!”

“Oh, shit - sorry!” 

Karlach let go but kept her hands on Adeline’s arms, her eyes scanning her face to make sure she was really there, “Gods, I’ve been so worried about you.”

Before Adeline could answer, another figure appeared in the doorway. 

“Adeline,” Wyll rejoiced and he pulled her into a gentler hug, “I’m so glad to see you. I wrote so many letters, hoping one would get through. The others did as well. How have you been?”

“I’m so sorry... I didn’t receive any of them. Astarion… he...”

Karlach cut her off, “You don't have to explain. You’re here now, and that’s what matters.” 

She pulled her into another hug.

After letting go, she couldn’t help but ask, “Seriously though, what happened? Astarion came barging in here, demanding answers. Rambling on about how someone had taken you. Intense doesn’t even begin to cover it. And what’s this portal? Where in the hells have you been?”

She glanced between the two of them, their concern so genuine it overwhelmed her. “I’ll explain everything later, I promise. I’m just… I’m so happy to finally see you both.” 

Her eyes were glistening as she spoke the words. 

“Damn it, Addie, you’re going to make me cry. Is everything okay?” 

“You can tell us,” Wyll added, “Did he hurt you?”

“Can we please save all of that for now? It’s been so long! I just want to hear how you’ve been.”

“Oh, we’ve got so much to catch up on! And guess what? My heart’s back! No more engine, no more overheating!”

Adeline smiled warmly, “Karlach, that’s incredible.”

“Damn right it is! And Wyll and I? We live here now, swish, isn't it? He wanted to move to the Upper City, but hell no!"

Wyll laughed warmly, “I don't care where we live, so long as we’re together.” 

He looked at Karlach with such warm affection. Adeline felt her heart ache despite the joy she felt for her friends. 

Karlach threw her arm around Wyll’s shoulders, pulling him close, “Told you he’s a keeper.”

They then led her to a sitting area in the living room. 

“Can I get you something?” Karlach asked, already halfway to the kitchen.

Adeline shook her head quickly, holding up both hands, “No, really - just sitting here with you is enough. Don’t leave. I don’t want you to.”

They exchanged a quick glance, Wyll nodding and sitting down, “You look well,” he exhaled, as if he was surprised by the fact. 

Karlach plopped down next to Adeline, “We were getting ready to storm the mansion, you know. Me, Wyll, Jaheira, and Minsc. No way we were going to sit back while you disappeared on us. We knew it wasn’t you answering those letters.”

“You all knew?”

“Of course we knew. You’d never pull back like that - not without a damn good reason. Jaheira even sent a scout to your last big party at the mansion. Entered through Astarion’s spy tunnels. He was supposed to talk to you, but he didn’t get the chance. Said you left the party early but looked happy enough.”

Wyll raised an eyebrow, “Considering you’re here now and not with Astarion, I’d say his assessment was off. So, tell us - did you run?”

Adeline hesitated, her fingers fidgeting with her dress, “I… made a deal with Raphael.”

Their reactions were immediate, “You what ?” 

“Addie, come on. You didn’t? Really?”

Adeline held up her hands, trying to ward off their disapproval. “It’s not as bad as it sounds. It’s been two weeks, and honestly? It hasn’t been terrible. I’ve had to do some things I didn’t love, sure, but mostly, it’s been… good. The deal wasn’t even about me - it was about getting to Astarion. I just have to stay three months and then I’ll figure out what to do.”

“Three months,” Wyll echoed, “Adeline, devils don’t work like that. Mizora said I’d be out of the pact in 6 months before she turned the tables on me.”

Karlach nodded, “You think he’s treating you nice, but it’s a trap. It’s always a trap.”

“I know… I know it’s dangerous. But I felt trapped either way. And the last deal I made with Raphael didn’t turn out so bad for you, did it? He told me he is the reason you are out of Avernus, Karlach.”

Karlach hesitated, “You’re not wrong. He couldn’t have beat Zariel without the crown. And honestly? Raphael can rule in the Hells for all I care. I am done with the place. But you should have come to us. Your friends.”

“I know… I just didn’t want anyone hurt.”

“You have to be careful. Devils are always three moves ahead,” Wyll warned, “And what happens after your deal is over – have you truly thought this through?”

No, not really. But she didn’t want to face it – not right now. 

“I’ll be careful. I promise.”

Karlach breathed out, “You better. Because the next time you disappear, we’re kicking down whatever door you’re behind. Got it?”

Adeline laughed, “Got it.”

The evening passed with laughter and stories about their endeavours. And for the first time in months, she felt… human. No deals, no shrouded meanings and puzzles. Just friends who still saw her as the bard they knew and loved. 

But all too soon, the night came to an end. 

Raphael stepped out of the portal and greeted them with a nod, “It’s time to go now. I trust you’ve had your fill of sentiment.”

Adeline’s heart sank as she prepared to leave. Karlach was the first to stand crossing the room to face Raphael.

“You better not hurt her,” she threatened.

Raphael’s smirk curved, “Hurt her? Adeline’s well-being is of utmost priority, I assure you. But rest assured, should you find her in distress, it will be because of her own choices, not mine.”

Karlach’s fists clenched, but Wyll placed a hand on her arm, pulling her back and turning their attention to Adeline. 

“We’re here for you,” Wyll assured, as they both pulled her in for a hug. 

Adeline nodded “It was really good to see you. I'll be sure to return."  

And then after letting her go, Adeline and Raphael disappeared into the portal.

~

Karlach stood still, her fists still clenched, “She’s trapped. We should’ve just gone through with it - killed Astarion. The second we got back - we should have done it. She wouldn’t need Raphael if he was gone. Sure, she’d be angry for a while, perhaps she’d hate us – but she’d be free. Safe.”

Wyll exhaled heavily, rubbing the back of his neck. “Karlach, we’ve been over this. It’s not just him. He’s got an army of spawn under his control, and we don’t know how many. The four of us, against a vampire ascendant and his spawn?” He shook his head. “We don’t stand much of a chance.”

“So what? We just sit here while she is pulled by devils and vampires alike? That’s not okay.”

“I know. But rushing in without a plan isn’t going to help her. It’ll just get us killed.”

“Agggh, I hate this. I hate that she’s stuck with him. And I hate that we’re stuck here doing nothing.”

“We’re not doing nothing. We gather allies, get in touch with the others and the moment we see an opening, we take it. But not like this. Not without a real chance.”

Karlach’s anger turned into acceptance. “Fine. We do this smart. But I’m not waiting for Raphael to turn this deal around.”

“Me neither,” Wyll finished. 

Chapter Text

Adeline leaned back from the edge of her seat, a goblet of blood in-hand. Raphael sat across from her, nursing his own drink. He raised his glass and Adeline returned the gesture with a smile. After all, a well played deal was worth a toast. 

When Raphael said she would enjoy this kind of work, she had her doubts. But now, she couldn’t deny the truth in his words. 

The client’s dark eyes had made the hair on the back of her neck rise. Bitter and vengeful, he had sought to punish an old friend. A feeling in the back of her mind told Adeline the friend had done nothing wrong.

And Raphael noticed her hesitation. The way she seemed to fight her own words, when urged to sway him.

Ever the opportunist, he inclined his head, signalling for her to follow his lead. She understood the assignment. Together they spoke half-truths that had the man signing off to a deal that left his friend unharmed. And in Raphael gaining yet another soul for his army. 

It was fun. 

Raphael could have given him what he wanted – it would have been the easy choice. But he didn’t. And that earned him a pleasant evening of wine in her company.

She took small sips from her goblet. Blood mixed with wine, had a tendency to loosen her up. Something she could not afford. Raphael’s presence no longer had her body tense and rigid. Instead, his company made her cheeks red any time his eyes lingered too long. It should have made her uncomfortable. And it did. But stronger still, was the pull she felt towards him. 

She had actively started seeking his company - even when he pretended to be annoyed by it. Perhaps especially then. 

She couldn’t pinpoint what it was exactly… Boredom? No. His passion for art and the finer things in life? Not that either but it was a plus. It was perhaps the fact that she was not as repulsed as she pretended to be that morning. 

Astarion allowed her the freedom to be with others, but that freedom had its limits. And she was almost certain the line would be crossed if she bedded Raphael. What Astarion allowed was sex. This, as much as she hated to admit it, would be different. So she took slow sips.

Raphael studied her as she drank her blood. His eyes held so many thoughts and Adeline wanted in. A detect thought spell would be pointless. He’d sense the intrusion and if he did let her in, he’d frame the narrative to his liking. She faltered when trying to discern them through body language alone. Her eyes quickly fell to her goblet, scared to lift them, in fear they’d meet his again. Did he notice? Of course he noticed.

“You’ve settled in well here.” His tone, more hesitant than she was used to, “Avernus… It suits you. Your hair-”

Adeline furrowed her brow slightly. Raphael, nervous?

“Was that an attempt at a compliment?”

“Perhaps…” 

What was this ? Her smile faded when she thought of the morning last week. The awkwardness resurfaced, deepening the red hue on her cheeks. She felt his eyes on her, clearly enjoying her reaction. Damn him.

As an act, Adeline considered mercy, he changed the topic to poetry, giving her a chance to recollect herself.

As conversation flowed freely, her drink emptied. When she said she wanted to avoid drinking directly from mortals, he respected her wish. But she couldn’t help missing the warmth of it. She tried to avert her eyes, from the pulse beneath his skin. If her eyes lingered for so much as a second, he would notice. Still, the thought remained. 

Would he let her have another taste? And if she let herself, could it be just one bite?

But then before answering the question, a loud rumble was heard from the foyer.

“Raphael! Show yourself, you weasel!” 

Adeline froze. 

Astarion.

Before she could move, Raphael snapped his fingers, and she was back in her quarters.

Without hesitation she snuck out of her room towards the feast hall doors. Her contract stopped her from talking to Astarion without Raphael’s permission but said nothing about listening.  Adeline peered through the keyhole. 

Astarion, as beautiful as ever, stood before Raphael. For a moment, her mind drifted to the thought of running her fingers through his perfect white curls, to the hands that never failed to soften her limbs. And then, the determination in his eyes that made her want to run into his arms and forget about everything that had happened. Until she noticed the army of spawn stationed behind him. 

He had come ready for a fight.

He marched towards Raphael, his fists clenched so tight, Adeline imagined his palms bled, “You give her back right now, or I will reduce this house to ruin!” 

And there stood Raphael, ever composed, even in the face of a furious vampire ascendent, “Astarion. Such fire. To what do I owe this pleasure?”

“I won’t tell you again. I know you have her. Now give her back, or I will disintegrate you and this wretched place with it.”

Raphael chuckled low, “Calm yourself, boy. That vein in your forehead is poised to pop. Yes, Adeline is here. With me. What of it?”

Rachel’s nonchalant stance - his smirk, it must have fuelled his fury beyond measure, “Unless you give her back this very second, my spawn and I will tear you to shreds.”

“You think yourself unstoppable, don’t you? Because of the power Mephistopheles gave you. And now you come barging in, ruining a perfectly fine evening, barking demands as if you hold any dominion here. Release Adeline? I think… not.”

“This is the last time I warn you, Raphael. Bring her to me. Now."

“And what makes you think you can take me on? Your army of spawn? Tell me, Astarion, are they so loyal, they’d follow you without your hold over them? Would they remain at your side, should I... let’s say, snap my fingers and strip away that bond?

Asterion's eyes narrowed trying to piece his words together, “You can’t do that. They are my spawn.”

“I assure you I can. But if you’re so certain, why not test it out, shall we?”

Raphael stretched his arm out toward one of the spawn - one Adeline recognized. Sweet Theo . Why was he here? He wasn’t a spawn fit for battle. She had taught him to charm guests, not to fight. And then before she could make sense of it, Raphael pulled his arm to his chest, nudging Theo towards him.

“Tell him to take this stake and drive it through his heart,” Raphael challenged as he conjured the stake into Theo’s hands, “Let’s see just how powerful the mighty ascendant is.”

Adeline knew Astarion couldn’t afford to show weakness, and Theo was just one spawn among many. More importantly, he needed to know if Raphaels threats held any merit. 

“Do it, Theo, drive the stake through your heart.”

Adeline’s heart ached, as Theo raised the stake. Her sweet, polite boy, reduced to this. A tool. His life, for what? Proving a point? Her first instinct was to run or cry out, but she held her tongue. Raphael’s spell had worked on her, so Theo was safe. She had to trust that.

And Theo, try as he might, froze and dropped the stake. He couldn’t do it. His will to live and Raphaels spell, made Astarions command useless.

Adeline exhaled deeply, her shoulders dropping in relief. 

Raphael stopped concentrating. 

She blinked. Wait— concentrating?

Why had he been concentrating at all ? The spell he used on her, required no such thing. But once the tension returned, the thought slipped away—half-formed, unfinished.

Raphael smirk deepened, savouring Astarions look of defeat, “Now. Do you trust your spawn not to turn on you, once they have a taste of freedom? Not to seize the moment I set them loose upon their gracious master?”

Astarion was no longer in control of the situation. From their early days, Adeline could still remember the bite in Astarions voice, whenever he mentioned Cazador. He knew the desire for freedom, better than anyone. If he decided to fight, they’d join Raphael. And Astarion knew, because his old self would have jumped at the opportunity. 

“What do you want? What will it take for you to free her?”

Raphael smiled, spreading his arms as he presented his case, “Simple. Return the mace to me. Do that, and Adeline is free to leave.”

Astarion believed she was a captive. And Raphael let him believe it. The contract bound her. If she left before the three months were up, her soul would belong to him. Yes, she was free to leave. But she couldn't choose to go. Doing so would damn her.

“If I find you’ve damaged a single strand of hair on her head, I will ruin you.” 

“Adeline is perfectly safe under my care,” Raphael assured, hand on his heart, “Though I suspect her cheek still stings a little from before I took her away.”

His eyes went dark. Did he regret it? She was sure, having it thrown back in his face, irked him to no lengths. And the fury restrained in his fists told her, he wanted to tear Raphael’s limbs off. But the fury remained in his fists alone as he gritted his teeth and prepared to leave.

This wasn’t a fight he could win, and Adeline was relieved he saw reason. 

“This isn’t over,” he spat before retreating into the portal, the spawn following suit.

And just like that he was gone.

Adeline remained where she was. The fact that Astarion had come to rescue her made her heart ache. But anger stirred in her as well. Ordering Theo to kill himself was just one of many incidents that reminded her of what she ran from. Before, she would have turned a blind eye to Astarion’s indifference and clung to any excuse, but now - now she couldn’t.

Raphael turned his attention to the door she peeked through, “Enjoy the show, dear?”

She straightened, stepping out from the door, “What happens if he brings back the mace?”

“Then I have the mace.” Raphael said simply. 

“And if he doesn’t?”

Raphael’s smirk deepened, “I win either way. One way or another, dear, I always do.”

Chapter Text

The portal in front of her gleamed. 

"Ready, dear?" Raphael asked, his tone conspiratorial, but she had no idea why... 

 "I don’t know. I haven’t seen him since Wither’s party..."

"Second thoughts? We can always go somewhere else."

"No," she replied firmly, "I want to see him."

"Then, by all means." He gestured toward the portal, stepping aside.

She took a deep breath before stepping through. The space shifted around her to somewhere smaller, more intimate. She closed her eyes to the smell of pine and herbs. And then, when she opened them, they went wide at the sight before her. 

Halsin, caught with a stranger in bed. The shock hit her like a gust of wind, stealing her breath.

"Adeline?!" Halsin exclaimed, his tone surprised as he scrambled upright, separating himself from the woman. 

Her hands rushed to cover her eyes, "I’m sorry… I didn’t mean to interrupt. I… I shouldn’t have come."

This wasn’t the welcome she anticipated, yet it was no surprise at the same time. Halsin always said their hearts roamed freely. But an ache settled inside her – had he moved on? Did he still care for her?

“Don’t be,” Halsin said quickly, his tone softening as he put his trousers on. He turned to the woman, “We’ll pick this up later.”

The woman didn’t hide her displeasure. She couldn’t blame her. Interrupting someone’s night wasn’t exactly polite. But as much as guilt tugged at her, a small part of her was… relieved. Halsin dropped everything for her, no hesitation. 

Of course, Raphael had to have known what she’d walk into…

Halsin crossed the room, "Adeline, how I’ve longed to see you." 

He pulled her into one of those hugs that never failed to soothe. She couldn’t help but sink into it as the awkwardness faded. 

When they pulled apart, Halsin motioned her toward the bed. Grabbing a nearby blanket, he put it around her shoulders,"Tell me, what brings you here? Are you staying for long?"

"Just for tonight. I want to hear about you though, how have you been?"

His eyes brightened as he began to tell her everything. The oprhans and the growing community he’d built here. His enthusiasm was infectious.

"You have to meet them," Halsin insisted, "They’ll love you. We had a bard visit a few weeks ago, but he wasn’t half as skilled as you. You must play for them.”

Adeline smiled, but his enthusiasm made her heart ache. 

“Please tell me you’re staying a while,” Halsin added, “I’ll make room for you - always.”

She would stay… if she could. At this moment, there was no place she’d rather be. 

The thought of this night coming to an end, his enthusiasm and joy; it all threatened to spill her feelings over. 

And spill over, it did. The tears came suddenly and Halsin’s face twisted with concern.

“Adeline?” he asked, eyes frantically searching, wondering if he said something wrong. 

“I...” Her voice broke as she struggled to get the words out, “I left him. I left Astarion.” 

The words came out between sobs, “I wish - I wish I’d gone with you instead. And now... I miss him... I miss you. And he hasn't even tried to get me back... he doesn’t even care.”

Two weeks had passed since Astarion’s visit, and Raphael had told her he was in no rush to get the mace. That Duvain had told him, he could find someone else – someone who would serve him better. It had broken her heart.

And before she could say more, Halsin pulled her into his arms, holding her so tightly she couldn’t speak. Her sobs were muffled into his chest and his hold grounded her as everything poured out. She let it all go. 

“I missed you,” she sobbed out, “I missed you so much."

When she finally pulled back, her tears still clinging to her lashes, Halsin cupped her face and wiped them away gently. 

“You’re safe here, with me. You don't ever have to leave.”

Oh, but she had to . Instead of answering, Adeline leaned up and kissed him, gently at first. 

But then her fingers wove into his hair, tugging so firmly that Halsin let out a surprised hum against her mouth. She didn't want to risk him pulling away, asking if she was okay or demanding an explanation. 

Their bodies found each other as she moved onto his lap. Gods, how she’d missed him . Touching him again and being this close - she didn't want to waste a second of it.  The longing overtook her, and she only pulled away to remove her shirt, giving him a chance to speak. 

“Let’s take a moment, dear,” he paused, his hands still braced against her back, steadying her. 

“Don’t,” she begged. 

“Are you sure? Why don’t we take a moment to talk?”

“I don’t want to talk. I want you.”

His eyes narrowed for a moment, unsure. 

But then he swept her into his arms and laid her gently on the bed. To give her what she wanted. 

Slowly, his hands moved to her clothing, undoing her trousers with care. When he returned to her lips, she reached between his legs, massaging the stiffness under his pants, evoking a groan from Halsin that made her legs weaken.  

Eventually, he towered over her and pulled it out. His broad frame, his gentle love, the familiar smell of him – it was all-consuming. 

But once he leaned back down and his lips met hers again, right when he was about to enter,  the room shifted. 

A warmth filled the air. Halsin froze above her, instinctively moving to shield her. 

Adeline inhaled sharply when she realized. Dragged a hand over her face.

“It’s time to go,” Raphael declared. 

This was out of line. Her cheeks burned, from shock this time. 

Halsin’s reaction was immediate. He moved to stand, reaching for his weapon, “What is he doing here?” he demanded. 

Raphael raised a brow, “I came to collect,” he replied with a raised chin, “I told you, Adeline. It’s time to go. Get dressed.”

She covered herself with a blanket, “You can't just do that. This is my night, we have a deal.”

“Our deal was that you could travel wherever you liked. I never promised you could stay for as long as you want. Now, the visit is over.”

Adeline couldn’t help but laugh. Had Raphael lost his mind?

Halsin turned his gaze to Adeline, “What is the meaning of this, Adeline?”

She was embarrassed, but mostly on behalf of Raphael. This was low. 

“I’m sorry, Halsin. I made a deal. I have to go with him. Please - don’t fight.”

“But why?” 

“To escape Astarion. To give me time to think.”

His voice broke slightly, “Why didn’t you come to me?”

Adeline met his eyes, her chest tightening at the sorrow she saw there, “Because you couldn’t help, not in a way I’d want you to.”

“I would have fought for you. If I’d known you needed me…”

Adeline shook her head, “I wouldn’t let you. I don’t want him dead. I don't want anyone dead. I just wanted to get away.”

Halsin stared at her for a long moment, his knuckles white as he gripped his weapon. But slowly, he lowered it. “I do not like this, Adeline. Not one bit.”

“I know, Halsin. But you have to let me go. Fighting would just end badly for the both of us.” 

“I’m always here for you. Whatever you need. Just say the word.”

“I know,” she smiled warmly. 

Then before leaving, she pulled him into a long, passionate kiss. She poured everything into it - her love and her regret. A small part of her also hoped to annoy Raphael as much as possible with it. 

They parted from each other's lips, but not each other's arms, “Take care, my heart, I won’t let this be our last goodbye.”

Adeline nodded, her chest tightening as she turned to Raphael. 

“How touching. Shall we?”

Adeline shot him a glare before stepping through the portal.

When they returned, Adeline simply left for her bedroom. She wanted to scream at him, to demand why he had to intrude, but she kept her mouth shut. Whatever words she might throw at him, wouldn’t speak as loudly as her silence did. 

So, after sending him a glare, she simply walked away.  

~

Raphael’s smirk faltered, his usual confidence cracking. Should he call out? Explain? What explanation could he even give? No - he couldn’t do that. So, he watched her leave and for the first time, unease crept in. Had he overplayed his hand? And why had he done that?  

Chapter Text

Adeline sat at her desk attempting to write a simple children’s tale - stories of adventure and wonder, the kind that had once brought her comfort.

Today, she needed it.

Astarion still hadn’t returned the mace.

She tried not to dwell on it, but the ache crept into every happy line she wrote. Had she expected too much? That he would risk Mephistopheles’ wrath for her? Perhaps. And yet, the fact that he hadn’t returned it yet, made her steps feel heavier with each passing day.

Was their grand love truly that fickle?

She preferred to work with some background noise, but the House of Hope was silent, as always. She knew that beneath all its grandeur and fine decor, there were horrors… loud ones. Raphael had never hidden what this place truly was, but she never ventured that deep. He was without a doubt, cruel, arrogant and… rude .

And yet, she found herself making excuses. 

She should have been furious for interrupting her time with Halsin. But she wasn’t. Not any more. Because it answered her question. He did care. Why else would he make a fool of himself like that?

A knock at the door pulled her from her thoughts.

Raphael stepped inside, his hands folded neatly behind his back.

“I waited for you at dinner, but you never showed. Some might consider that rather rude.”

Adeline kept her eyes on the parchment, “I wasn’t hungry.”

“You’re hurting.”

She stiffened.

“Hurt,” he continued, stepping closer, “because he hasn’t come for you.”

Her fingers tightened around the quill. She didn’t want his sympathies. It only confused her.

“Weeks have passed. And yet, he has not come storming through my doors. How many more days will it take before you accept the truth?”

“And what truth is that, Raphael?” she bit out, “That he doesn’t care for me? That I’m all alone now?”

“You were always going to be second to his ambition. You’ve simply refused to see it. But you aren’t alone.”

She let out a growl, wishing he’d stop that. Getting under her skin.

Then he stretched out his hand, “Come with me.” 

Adeline frowned, “Where? Why?”

“Somewhere that might cheer you up.”

She studied him, trying to untangle his motives. A puzzle - always a puzzle .

“Why do you care?”

Raphael exhaled, “Must you question everything, dear?”

“I find that’s the best approach when it comes to you,” she shot back, arms crossing over her chest.

Then after a moment, she relented and took his hand, “Oh what the hell, I’ll bite.”

He bowed his head with a flourish and with a flick of his fingers, the room around them shifted. Her quarters were replaced by a moonlit lake.

She took the scenery in.The place was familiar.. Their old camp. She hadn’t been here since Wither’s party.

This was home .

She turned to Raphael with a genuine smile on her face, “Thank you…”

He gestured to the ground, where a blanket was spread out with a bowl of fruit and wine. Then candles ignited around them.

“Sit.” 

Adeline didn’t move. What was his game ? This place was precisely where she needed to be right now. But this scene laid out before her was confusing.  The effort, the deliberate intent - it looked like something plucked from a romance novel.

Raphael - a romantic ? She resisted teasing him, when she realized this was the effort of a man trying very hard to... impress her .

“Is this a date?” she blurted, eyes narrowing in suspicion.

“If it was, would that be such a terrible thing? I thought you and Astarion had a rather... casual arrangement in such matters.”

She shouldn’t have come here. And he very well knew, ‘their arrangement’ was not open to… whatever this was .

Her lips parted, ready to tell him she wanted to return, but before she could, he lifted a hand in a calming gesture, “Always so suspicious. Just enjoy yourself. You can return to your brooding later.”

Adeline hesitated. Her eyes flickered between him and the blanket. She had good reason to be suspicious, but the lake was too peaceful and the blanket too soft under the soles of her feet.

Swallowing hard, she sank onto it and looked out at the view ahead.

Raphael lowered himself onto the blanket as well. She watched him from the corner of her eye as he poured her a glass of wine.

They sat in silence for a while. She was grateful he had this much time to spare, given it was not one of her weekly nights. He had ulterior motives, she was sure. But she didn’t have to indulge them. She could just sit there.

She took in his features when he was distracted pouring more wine. She had grown used to his presence. Been as annoyed by it as she was entertained. But now, in this setting, he looked… different. Softer.

She hated it.

“Tell me about the blood war.”

Anything to keep her mind off leaning her head against him.

It worked for a while. They talked, sharing a healthy amount of wine, and she actually had a good time. Laughter came easy, and she let herself enjoy the warmth of the moment. The ease of his company. 

But then, the silence crept in again. Lingering glances stretching too long. He hadn’t brought any blood, and she had skipped dinner. So, the vein pulsing against his skin had her feeling weak. Her eyes flicked to his vein - so, tempting - and so, wrong .

She set her goblet down, exhaling slowly. “I shouldn’t be here. With you.”

“And yet, here you are.”

Her focus was drawn back to that slow, steady beat beneath his skin. Her fangs ached at the sight. She hadn't wanted to feed like that. But now, she craved something fresh, the thrill of taking it straight from a vein.

“If I give you a kiss, can I feed from you again?”

Raphael chuckled, “Slow down, dear-”

“Isn’t this what you want? It was obvious when you dragged me away from Halsin. Now, I want something in return.”

“Are we really going to revisit past grievances now?”

She scoffed, rolling her eyes. “Do we have a deal or not?”

His playful smirk faded as he set the terms, “No. I don’t want to negotiate a kiss out of you, Adeline. I want you to give it freely.”

She crossed her arms with a frown. She thought he’d jump at the opportunity. Why did he care if she wanted to or not? He was a devil.

Damn him . Damn the way he refused to let her hide behind bargains

She turned her face towards him. 

Then she looked into his eyes and let herself explore the depth of them. Did she want to?

She scooted a little closer. Then she lifted her hand, brushing her fingers along his jaw. His eyes gleamed softly, his gaze… curious .

Gods, yes, she wanted to. And Raphael knew. He wouldn’t let her mask it in a deal. 

So, she let herself feel, as she caressed his cheek, and looked into eyes that had no right to be as soft as they were now.

She swallowed hard.

This was wrong. And yet when she leaned closer, all she could think about was his lips against hers.

His hand rose, fingertips brushing her cheek and all the way down to her neck.

And just like that - there was no fight left in her .

Finally, their lips met. Soft and tentative at first, lips barely brushing against each other.

Then she curled her fingers into the fabric of his shirt, clinging not just to him, but the moment she knew had to come to an end.

But when his palm slid down her waist, her resistance crumbled. How could she pull away from him? From this?

Her fingers twirled in his hair, pulling him closer as their lips grew used to one another.

And when Raphael finally pulled back, they were both gasping. Their foreheads rested against each other, eyes full of unspoken confessions.

She couldn’t bear it. Her eyes closed shut but she couldn't pull away.

“Look at me," Raphael ordered, his voice stern, yet gentle still, “Open your eyes.”

She froze.

And then she did. Slowly.

His gaze met hers, steady and unblinking.

And gods, it burned.

At this point, sex was the smarter choice. To lose herself in the physical, rather than the things she saw in his eyes. Because if she kept looking, she feared there was no going back.

So she kissed him - hard . 

And when he placed his hand firmly on her thigh, she unravelled. Their tongues intertwined and their lips grew wet with haste.

Then, her kisses trailed down to his neck, finding his jugular, the one she had resisted staring at all evening. Finally, hers.

Without a word, she swung her leg over him, getting comfortable in his lap. His wings wrapped around her, like a blanket as his hands found her hips.

That's when she felt him harden underneath her. Gods, she wanted him. All of him.

“Say it,” he ordered, “Admit you want this.”

Her eyes fluttered shut.

He took her jaw, tilting her face back to him, "Look at me. Say it."

"I want you Raphael," she breathed, "Gods, I do."

His smirk returned, slow and wicked. Then he tilted his head and exposed his neck for her. 

She bit into his skin and the warmth of his blood flooded her senses.

It was just as intoxicating as she remembered - alive with a heat that spread through her whole body.  She thought it was the hunger that made it so irresistible last time. But now, she knew his blood was utterly addictive.

With every sip, the craving grew. Her grip in his hair tightened as her body started grinding against him. He was proper hard at this point. 

It would be cruel to deny him. Cruel to them both.

Would it be so bad? It had been 3 weeks. If Asterion planned to get her back, he wasn’t in a hurry. Maybe Raphael was right. Perhaps he had replaced her. Perhaps she was simply serving a need anyone else could. Gods, it hurt . 

But this - this kept that pain at bay.

So, when she parted from his neck, she pressed her lips firmly against his. 

Her hands gripped around his shoulders - a silent cue for him to put her on her back and pin her underneath him. 

~

He didn’t hesitate. He had waited too long for this. His initial intentions had never been to bed her. The thought crossed his mind, but only as a means to spite Astarion. It wasn’t like that now.

This went beyond revenge, power… even flesh.

He pulled back to shift into his human form. Then he began to undress her. 

She steadied herself on her elbows and reached for the buttons of his shirt. He could have used a spell to make their clothes vanish, but he didn’t. He let her work slowly, each button undone, taking their time.

When they were finally bare, he glanced down at her form, “Gods, you are beautiful."

The red hue on her cheeks deepened, but she didn't look away, "You really mean that, don't you?"

"I do." 

Her fingers slid down his midriff, and she bit her lip,  “Then stop stalling and fuck me already.”

His eyes went wide with excitement, anticipating how it’d feel to lose himself inside her.

His palm traced the curve of her waist, and went lower, until he reached his cock.

He took a deep breath as he steadied himself for entrance, aligning himself with her. 

“Ready?” 

“Yes,” she breathed. 

And then he pushed inside gently. Filling the space between her walls, inch by inch. His eyes rolled backwards as her flesh enveloped him entirely. 

~

Each thrust was measured and controlled. The rhythm of it pulled her into a haze of pleasure, deepening with each thrust. 

Low deep grunts followed as he pushed in, “Mmh” and out, “Agh.”

And when she began to lose herself in the rhythm, her hips started to move with him. Gods, how long she had waited for this. 

It wouldn’t take long. 

And when she grew closer - she clenched around him. Tight. Desperate.

He felt it. She heard him gasp in response, thick and throbbing inside her.

A sound escaped - something between a whimper and a growl. This shattered breathless sound. 

Then, what followed was a warmth spreading inside her as his presence within her grew less... substantial .

Above her, Raphael rolled his eyes backwards.

And he kept whimpering as he came down from his peak.

And when he did, he growled, frustrated. 

She couldn’t help but close her eyes with a sigh. She was so close…

But when she saw the annoyance in his expression, the way he clenched his jaw in frustration and refused to look her in the eyes, the disappointment softened. 

She felt... bad for him . This was obviously something he expected. Was this why he had always held back before? 

She reached up, brushing her fingers along his arm.

“Hey,” she said gently, “It’s fine.”

He didn’t respond. Still wouldn’t meet her eyes.

“Really.” Her tone lifted, just a touch. “It happens.”

“Don’t,” he growled. Not loud. Not harsh. But sharp enough to make her pause.

She blinked. “Don’t what?”

He finally looked at her, jaw set. 

Oh. Pity. He didn’t want her pity. 

“I wasn’t…”

He didn’t let her finish.

His mouth was on hers - rough and insistent.

~

With Haarlep, he could’ve walked away, his satisfaction be damned. But now? He couldn’t leave it like this. He had to show her - make her beg his name before the night was over. 

So, he shifted his form, looming over her, before he began to trail kisses down her abdomen.

Her breath hitched - soft and surprised. And the sound only pushed him further.

When he finally reached, he didn’t hold back. 

~

She felt the tip of his nose massaging her clit as he buried his face in her.

Then his tongue worked its way upwards. And with precision he swirled teasing circles around her clit. 

She threaded her fingers through his hair, "Mmmh Raphael, that feels good. Keep going.”

He heeded her request and flicked his tongue back and forth in a focused rhythm, causing her to gasp ever so slightly.

He cradled her hips, and lifted her for better access. And when she relaxed in his arms, he returned to her clit, flickering his tongue even faster. Her breath quickened and she gripped onto his horns for support.

When his mouth sealed over it, her eyes rolled with the anticipation of what was to come.

And when he finally began to suck, she could no longer restrain herself.

“Aggh, Raphael. Don’t stop,” she whimpered, barely able to hold on

“Mmm…” he purred, lips brushing where she was most sensitive. “My name. Say it again.”

She writhed, already missing his tongue on her, “Raphael… please, keep going.”

He grinned, wicked and pleased. Then he kept at it. 

The suction alone was overwhelming. But the way his tongue kept flickering was unbearable. Her thighs trembled around him, breaths becoming fast cries as the first wave crashed over her. 

She was a whimpering mess and pleasure kept surging through as she came down from her peak. 

Raphael steaded her, “That’s it…Breathe. But understand - I'm far from done with you.”

Before she could fully catch her breath, he continued. 

He chased her pleasure relentlessly, loving the way she sobbed his name. The way she begged for a break. 

She tried to pull away, but he gripped her hips tighter, anchoring her.

“Not done,” he ordered, “Not until I’ve wrung every last sound out of you.”

And whenever she sank back down, he kept going. 

His tongue pressed down on her as deeply as her nails dug into his scalp.

And he applied just enough pressure to send her into another shattering release.

Her screams echoed through the forest as her limbs trembled and her vision started to blur.

Gods, she was a mess. A shaky blissed-out mess. 

She looked up at the starry sky and she could hardly utter the words, "Raphael... please. I can't take any more." 

His lips finally stilled. And when he looked up at her, his brows furrowed and his gaze searched hers. Like he worried he’d pushed too hard. 

She managed a smile, breathless but steady, just enough to reassure him.  It was all too much, but it was good .

And then, without warning, he pressed a kiss to her inner thigh - gentle and uncharacteristically sweet.

A kiss so tender, she closed her eyes and threw her head back, looking up at the sky… wholly mortified .

What had she done?

Chapter Text

The sun had yet to rise when she woke up. Still time . Her fingers ran through Raphael’s hair as he rested his head against her belly.  

She wondered – had he ever slept like this with anyone else?

Her mind was a tangled mess. Was it regret? Not quite. But yesterday she crossed a line that was not so easily uncrossed. And yet, the way he rested on her… she couldn't help but smile. 

He was silent. No exaggerated chuckles, no mocking remarks. Just - conten t. Content in her embrace. 

She should never have let this happen. 

He shifted slightly. Then he tilted his head up, “Good morning, love. What are you thinking?” 

Love ? That was new… it made the ache of what she had to say so much worse. 

But his question lingered, demanding an answer. 

“I’m thinking... this shouldn’t have happened. That this was a mistake.”

He lifted himself up, placing one hand at each side of her head, locking eyes with her, “Does this feel like a mistake?”

No.

“I...” she started, “I don’t know.”

“This is because of Astarion, isn’t it?” Raphael asked, putting an extra bite to his name, "Have you still not accepted it’s over?”

“You don’t know that. Not for sure.”

“I know that he’s in no hurry to get you back. I know that you’ve wasted months clinging to crumbs. And I know,” he moved his body closer, as if pushing the words in with a thrust, “that you deserve far better than waiting around like a lovesick fool for someone who will never give you what you need." 

She swallowed the lump in her throat and steadied herself, "And you will?" 

“Have I not taken you in when you needed it? Given you a way out?” 

“You’re a devil, Raphael. You don’t do things out of the goodness of your heart. You did it to get back at Astarion.”

“Perhaps,” he admitted, “But perhaps it was more of an excuse than anything.”

“An excuse?”

“What if I told you that I prefer you here? Beneath me, in my grasp, rather than wasting away under him. That I meant it when I said I hate seeing you tethered to his will?”

“So this was your plan all along?" she laughed bitterly, "To bed me? To seduce me? Make me-" 

He waited, eyebrow raised. 

She sighed, “Make me fall for you?” 

Raphael smiled, “Wouldn’t that be convenient? To claim this was all part of some grand scheme? That I played the long game, and simply reeled you in?”

Again, his eyes, softened in a way they had no right to, “But no, that wasn’t my plan.”

She didn’t know how to respond. Her eyes searched his, desperate to find deceit, a hint that this was just another one of his games. But she found none. 

His gaze was unguarded in a way she had never seen before. And it was in that moment she realized. 

She had fallen. Hard.

She didn’t want to end things, but she didn't want to validate him either. So instead, she did the only thing that felt right.  

She kissed him with a passion fuelled by the need to hold onto the moment before it slipped away. Before, she inevitably had to end things. 

Her hands gripped his shoulders, pushing him back as she climbed onto his lap, not breaking the kiss for a second. 

He didn't resist.

And when he exposed his neck, it didn’t take a second for her to latch on. 

But she needed more. 

She pulled back, lips stained with blood. 

“I want you… all of you,”

His fingers dug into her hips, “I know. Take it.”

With that, she dove back into his lips.  

His form shifted beneath her, smoothing away the ridges and making himself smaller. 

She pushed back and furrowed her brows, “You don’t think I can handle it?” 

“I know you can’t. Let’s not ruin the moment proving me right.”

She squinted her eyes, then… relented. 

She shifted to guide him inside her. He helped, lifting her a little. 

“Is it really that much bigger?” 

“It is. But don’t worry, we’ll satiate that curiosity another time.”

She shot him a look, “Bold of you to assume there is a next time.” 

“Is it?”

She rolled her eyes with a smile, “We’re not doing this again.”

“Of course not,” he replied with a smirk. 

Squinting her eyes, she leaned back down and shut him up with a kiss. 

Her body then started to move against his in a careful rhythm. Slow and controlled. She wanted this time to last, so she took her time, truly savouring how he felt inside her.

Raphael kept his gaze locked on her. And the smile on his face wasn't the wicked smirk she was used to… 

Her hips stilled.

“Stop looking at me like that.”

“What? I like watching you. You look-”

“Don’t,” she warned. 

If he called her beautiful again…

He chuckled, ”But now I'm tempted…”

She rolled her eyes, half a laugh escaping as she shut him up once more. 

And when she got back up again, his hands found hers. Steadying her as she moved her hips back and forth.

She wanted to go faster, to let go - to chase her pleasure and ride him dry. But she was scared it'd be over all too quickly again. 

His hands found her hips, stilling her.

And with a flick of his fingers, he summoned a mage hand.

She steadied herself on his thighs, leaning back as it moved between them - curious at first, testing what made her thighs twitch.

And when he found the right spot, the right rhythm, her eyes rolled back. 

He smirked, “There you go.”

The hand didn’t stop. Not until she was right on the edge.

Willing to risk it, she started moving again. 

But with a sudden shift, he gripped her hips and flipped their position, pressing her down on the blanket, beneath him. 

And then he thrust into her with a fervor that matched the whimpers she could no longer contain. She cried to her heart's content, as pleasure rippled through her. 

So intense – so good.  

Her limbs weakened – and as she got down from her peak, Raphael gave in. 

With three rough desperate thrusts, his hips stuttered and he buried himself to the hilt inside her. 

Breathless, she felt his warmth fill her insides.  

He collapsed on top of her, his head resting on her chest as their bodies squirmed and shivered. 

She didn't want this to end…

Chapter Text

The blizzard howled against the walls of the lodge, but inside everything was still. On furs, Adeline lay curled up next to Raphael, enjoying the view of Cania. 

His wings enveloped her like a blanket as her fingers played with the hairs on his chest and the ridges of his skin.

She should have felt at ease. But her mind more closely mirrored the chaos outside. Cause whenever he cradled her, the guilt always followed.

“...Raphael?” 

“Yes, love?” 

“How do you know?” She began carefully, “That Astarion isn’t looking for it? That he’s given up?” 

Raphael didn’t respond immediately, but the fingers through her hair stilled. 

Then, he let out a heavy sigh, “Must we discuss this now?”

She lifted her head. Her cheeks were still flushed from earlier. 

“I just need to know. For sure. Can't I just see him? In one of your projections? I know you have eyes over there.”

He gripped her hair firmly, but not rough, “The last thing a man wants to hear after making his woman cry out beneath him, is the name of her former lover.”

He caressed her cheek, “Poor form, my dear.”


The jab was meant to lighten the mood, but instead her body went slack. Part of her wanted to drop it. Another gnawed so intensely, demanding to be spoken aloud. 

“He doesn’t see me as a former lover. He thinks you stole me. That you are keeping me captive.”

For a moment, he said nothing. 

But the furrow in his brow made his gaze impossible to hold. So her cheek returned to his chest and her gaze went to the blizzard ahead.

Then she continued, “Astarion and I never ended things, Raphael. Not properly.” 

With a bent finger, he lifted her chin up, forcing her to look at him. 

“It should have ended long ago. The second he struck you. The moment he raised his hand. I won’t hear his name from your lips again. Not tonight.”

She bit down on the insides of her cheeks. Astarion regretted it, she was sure. But arguing was pointless. Raphael wouldn't entertain the thought. So instead, she shifted in his arms, trying to evade the intensity of his stare.

But Raphael caught her before she could retreat, rolling her gently beneath him. His hands pinned hers beside her head. 

“Let it go,” he ordered, his lips brushing against hers, “Let him go.” 

How could she? She just left. No goodbyes. No explanation. 

But discussing it further, would only serve to annoy him. So instead she did the only thing that quelled her guilt.

She lifted her head and kissed him.

Fingers twirled into his hair as his full weight pressed her into the furs. Gods, how she loved being pinned beneath him in this form.

And when their lips finally parted, Raphael took a sharp breath, as if returning to the surface after drowning. 

“You drive me mad, you know that? Just say the word and I’ll tear you apart once more.”

Adeline laughed softly, "I shouldn’t have teased you… I’m still exhausted. Aren’t you? I left you full of bite marks.”

He arched his brow with a playful smirk, "There are spells for that sort of thing. A simple incantation and you'd be fully restored.”

She shook her head with a smile, "I just want to lie here. Listen to the storm some more."

He looked her over, "Was I too rough? This form - did I hurt you?"

The genuine concern had her face soften, “You were perfect. Just wished my shoulder and hip would agree. You may have dug those claws in a little too deep.” 

“Why didn’t you tell me?” he asked as a warmth spread from under his palm and to her sore spots. 

She watched Raphael work. And when he finished, he kissed her shoulder, pulling her back into a firm embrace. 

And as certain as dawn, the familiar unease returned. 

If only he was the cold devil he once pretended to be. The devil who didn’t kiss her wounds and hold her as if he would shield her from any threat. 

She shut her eyes with a force that twisted the black under her eyelids into swirls of blue. A poor distraction. 

And as she tried to get comfortable her back was starting to ache, “Raphael? I admit it. The floor is awful.” 

“Ah, uncomfortable, are you? I do recall warning you when you insisted we take the floor like peasants.”

Adeline rolled her eyes playfully, “Not all of us grew up in padded beds. Sometimes, I appreciate the simpler things in-” 

Her brows furrowed, “Wait a minute!” Then she helped herself up with an elbow, “All these years… Did it never occur to you, what I really needed was a roof? A bed I didn’t have to rent or borrow? Had that been my standard, we might have been comfortably in one right now.”

“I offered you a perfectly good bed. And as for your other question, I thought some trials might strengthen your resolve. Spoiling you rotten was never part of the deal."

"Mmm. I don't know. Did you read the fine print? A nice estate surely couldn't have hurt."

Raphael shook his head and placed a hand on his heart, “My sincerest apologies, love. Let me make it up to you now. Where do you wish to go? The astral plane? The Feywilds? Say the word and I'll take you.” 

Could it really be so? 

Would he offer her the world if it cost him a single piece of the Hells? If everything he had dreamed of, was finally within reach? 

Would he abandon his father’s title if it meant, keeping her? 

Her smile faded, when she answered her questions. Eyes returning to the frost covered window before them. 

Of course not.  

“What troubles you, dear?” 

She wanted the answer to be yes. That, yes, he’d give it all up for her. That this could last. That one day, his thirst for power, wouldn’t come between them. Could it be?

She turned to him, searching his face, hoping. 

Then, barely above a whisper:

“I love you.”

He stilled.

No smirk. No reply. Just silence.

The words lingered in the air. She needed to hear them. 

His eyes narrowed, not in suspicion, but as if tasting how the words felt on his tongue. 

“Well?” she prodded. 

He exhaled slowly.

“Adeline… devils do not love.”

“Again, with this?”

His voice stayed even, “These words you use. This thing you speak of. It is not within my nature.”

She searched his face. For a faint flicker of reciprocation. She was desperate for it. 

His words were one thing but his eyes? In them, she found something. Was it love ? She couldn’t tell, but it was something. 

And at last, she exhaled, “Okay.” 

Settling back into his arms, she pressed a soft kiss to his chest.  

It was okay.

He didn’t use the word carelessly. He didn't lie, nor did he pretend. And that was enough.

The minutes passed in silence as the blizzard outside kept roaring. 

“Soon, Cania will be mine.” 

Adeline opened her eyes and looked up. His gaze was fixed ahead, jaw clenched with a burning fire in his eyes.

“I’ll take the frozen throne from beneath him. Show the old bastard what I’m capable of.”

He paused, but his eyes didn’t move.

“His court will bow before me. Every smug little wretch that sneered behind my back. I’ll make them kneel.”

She didn’t say anything. She simply reached for his hand and brushed her thumb along his. A gentle soothing motion, silently saying:

You don't need Cania. Please, let this be enough.

Chapter Text

It had been weeks since Raphael first told her Astarion might not come for her. She had denied it at first, clinging to the hope that he would return. Proving she was more than a jewel to display.  That he was willing to risk his power to keep her.

But as the days stretched, she had been forced to face the truth. She had come to terms with it now.

After all, was it so bad? The last few weeks had been... surprising. Raphael had invited her to stay the nights in his bedroom. An offer that felt as if he was letting her in, piece by piece.

Just a few days ago, he had taken her to a play. One grander than any she'd ever seen, the kind she used to dream of performing in.

And the blood... gods, the blood. Raphael was generous in sharing it. Every morning, he would offer his wrist, letting her drink deeply as he played with her hair. His blood made her feel so strong. And in all honesty, she felt… happy.

Perhaps life here wouldn't be so bad – she had thought.

But now? 

Now she stood behind the doors of the foyer, full of regret. The creeping cold was back, causing her to shiver with fear.

Astarion had come…

When she first heard his voice, Raphael had pulled her away. He had told her to stay back until he said so. He didn't need to tell her twice. The shame alone kept her rooted in place. 

Because, on the other side of the door, was Astarion with the mace in his hands. And she had doubted him.

No. Worse - she had betrayed him.

“You asked for the mace. I brought it. Now give her back to me," Astarion demanded.

"My my, the little vampling returns, barking orders and issuing commands. Took you quite some time, didn't it?"

Astarion’s tone was dangerous, “Bring. Her. To. Me. Now.”

"Oh, but of course. Adeline, darling, do come out."

Adeline’s heart pounded in her chest as the doors opened.  She stepped into the room with her eyes fixed to the floor.

For a moment, she couldn’t breathe.

The moment their eyes met, his expression softened - achingly so. His eyes swept over her, searching for any sign of harm. The concern in his face made tears start to well in her eyes.

Gods, what had she done?

Astarion closed the distance between them, his hands finding her waist, “There you are. My love. I’m sorry it took me so long.”

He had risked everything for her. He had stolen from Mephistopheles. And she… she had given up on him. She had slept in Raphaels bed, cozying up next to him, while he had fought for her. 

"Come," he ordered, his grip steady as he began to pull her toward the portal. "It's high time we get you home."

Her feet remained painfully planted.  The contract forbade her from speaking to him without permission, and she couldn’t leave before the three months were up. So, she just stood there. No explanation. Nothing.

Raphael smirked, his amusement ever present.

“Adeline,” Astarion pressed, his grip firm on her wrist. “What are you waiting for? Come with me.”

She couldn’t look up, even though she had missed his face so much during her first days away.

Raphael turned his head to her, “Adeline, dear? Are you leaving with him, or are you staying? Do speak up.”

He had chosen his words carefully. Do you wish to leave? No, he hadn’t asked her that. Because did she? No. She had spent weeks torn apart, believing Astarion had abandoned her. When she finally came to terms with it, she had been happy in another man’s arms. But now, standing in front of her, he had proved her wrong. And part of her wanted to run into his arms and forget everything that's happened.

But whatever did it matter? She couldn’t go.

So, she swallowed hard and forced the words out, “I am staying.”

Confusion was all over Astarions face, his hold on her wrist slackening. His eyes searched hers as if he had misheard.

"What?”

“You heard the lady,” Raphael interjected, “I do believe she’s grown rather fond of my House of Hope. We were cozy this morning, weren't we? I wonder – will you return to your own quarters, now that you’ve spent a night in mine?”

Of course, he couldn’t help himself. He was enjoying this – stoking the fire. It infuriated her, as much as it hurt her.

“Tell me this isn’t true,” Astarion demanded.

She had doubted him. And now, humiliated him.

Her silence was answer enough.

Astarion’s hands trembled at his sides, his nostrils flaring as he struggled to contain his rage. She could tell he was fighting the urge to rip him apart. To lash out. To drag her back to their mansion and subject her to his wrath for eternity.

He was ready to fight. And he had every intent of ripping Raphael apart.

And then, without warning, a sharp pain brought him to his knees.

It resembled the kind of headache the elder brain had subjected them to. Raphael's mace was raised at his side.

Astarion writhed in pain, breaking her heart in the process . What had she set in motion?

She didn't dare intervene. Astarion would push her away, and interrupting Raphael's spell might hurt him further.

When he finally lowered the mace, the pain stopped, "Be reasonable boy, leave."

Astarion caught his breath and stood up right. His fury seethed. But it was not only directed at Raphael. But Adeline too.

“Oh, Adeline, when I get my claws in you, you’ll regret - aghh -”

His body twisted as the pain came through his skull once more. 

Raphael’s fist clenched at his side, “You do not speak to her that way.” 

He released his hold, “Threaten her again, and you'll no longer have claws.”

Astarions glare snapped back to Raphael, “We are not done here.”

Raphael merely chuckled, “Oh, I look forward to it, little vampling.”

Astarion’s jaw tightened, and he cast one last look at Adeline - one of fury.

Then he stepped through the portal.

Adeline stood frozen. 

Astarion would come after her. He wouldn’t let this go. If he got to her, would he forgive her in a hundred years from now? A thousand? Ever ?

He had risked everything to save her, and in return, she had made him a fool.

A slow, deliberate clap broke the silence.

“Well, that went about as well as expected.”

Adeline turned on him so fast her vision blurred.

“What the hell is wrong with you?”

Raphael’s brow arched, “Wrong, with me?”

“You didn’t have to rub it in his face like that! You didn’t have to humiliate him - humiliate me,” she spat, shoving at his chest with both hands.

He didn’t move. Not an inch. The lack of reaction made her angrier. 

Her hands balled into fists at her sides. “Agh, you selfish bastard.”

She raised her arm, prepared to conjure a cloud of daggers around him – a deadly one, if aimed at a mortal.

He put his palm up, countering the spell she prepared, “Calm yourself dear. Why are you so upset? I only told the truth.”

“You enjoyed it.”

His smirk deepened, “That, I did.”

A frustrated growl ripped from her throat as she fought the urge to throw lightning on him, whatever she could conjure. But she realized  whatever damage she could inflict, while cathartic, he’d probably enjoy it.

“Who are you really angry with, dear?”

Him.

No. Herself.

No, him!

“You told me he was going to replace me. That he wasn’t coming.”

“I told you Duvain suggested it,” he corrected, “I never claimed he acted on it. I told you he was in no rush. And that, my dear, was entirely true."

Adeline’s nails dug into her palms, “You conniving snake. You made me… ugh, I can’t stand you!”

Raphael sighed again; this time softer, “Oh, Adeline. We both know that isn’t true.”

Her jaw clenched, “You’re manipulative. Cruel. I can’t believe I-”

He stepped forward, his tone no longer patient, no longer amused.

”My dear. Astarion couldn’t treasure you when he had you. He erased you. Made you small. And you’ve done nothing but ache for him ever since I freed you. I’ve had enough of it.”

She opened her mouth, but he didn’t let her speak.

“I know what I am. Cruel. Self-serving. A devil. But nonetheless, it was I, who sheltered you. It was I, who gave you your freedom. And I am sick of living in his shadow. Watching you pine after a boy, who never cherished you."

He stepped closer, “So yes, my dear, I enjoyed it. Thoroughly."

She wanted to fight him. To throw every ounce of frustration his way. 

"But he did come for me... He brought the mace."

“Oh, Adeline," he sighed, "He hesitated. Sought advice. Spent days weighing his options, while believing you were in the hands of a devil."

She had no words left. She wanted to blame him. But was he right? What did she know? She only had his word. 

And then it hit her. He might be her only refuge now. If Astarion got a hold of her, he would make her suffer.

Adeline closed her eyes, exhaling sharply, trying to ground herself. She had done it again.

She had built herself another cage. 

She turned around and brought her hand to her temple. Trying to think. Then her eyes started to wet and her palms flew to her face, trying to hold the tears back.

She felt his chest against her back and it made her face writhe. 

Then came his arms, pulling her into a tight embrace as comforting as it was oppressive. 

“Let it go. Let him go. You are safe with me.”

And despite everything, she found herself leaning into it. To him. 

Could she continue to be happy under his protection? Could she move on from this? 

Chapter Text

Adeline stood before the portal, Raphael at her side. She planned to seek advice about the inevitable end of the deal next week. Naturally, she sought out  Karlach  and Wyll.

The tension between her and Raphael had softened, but not disappeared. Now that he had the mace and his plans were in motion, she had plenty of space. Time to think and reflect. Yes, he had deceived her. But she also knew something was wrong. And ignored it. This was as much his fault as it was her own. Perhaps she deserved to die at Astarion’s hand. But she doubted Raphael would let her leave, even after the 3 months were up. 

"I’m going now." 

"Naturally," Raphael replied smoothly. "Enjoy yourself, dear. Do send them my regards."

She said nothing. Just went ahead. 

The moment she stepped through the portal, she knew something was wrong. She followed the voices to the other room. 

Around a large wooden table, her companions stood huddled. Jaheira. Minsc. Halsin. Shadowheart. Karlach. And Wyll. They hovered over papers across the table - maps and sketches she couldn’t make out. 

They didn’t notice her at first, too deep in discussion.

Adeline stepped closer, "What is going on here?"

The reaction was instant. Tension spread through the group as they turned toward her. She wasn't supposed to see this. 

Karlach was the first to move, "Shit."

No one rushed to answer. 

“Are any of you going to explain?”

Jaheira straightened, "We weren’t expecting you."

"What are you planning?"

Silence.

Halsin’s hand rubbed his temple, his expression sad.

Shadowheart let out a slow breath, eyes unreadable.

And then Wyll met her eyes, his own filled with... pity? Yes, pity.  

Jaheira was the one to say it, "We’re going to kill Astarion."

"What!?" 

She replied instantly, not believing the words that fell out of Jaheira's mouth.

Karlach reached out, “Addie…”

She backed away, a nervous chuckle escaping, "No. You are not killing Astarion. That is crazy." 

The serious look on their faces, had her stepping forward. She took in the papers, the names of spawn and servant alike, sketches of the mansion, strategic battle-plans. They weren’t joking. 

She forced out a breath, "You can't do this."

Jaheira didn’t waver. "We have to."

"Like hell you do!"

Karlach inhaled deeply, “We can’t sit around, Adeline. Not while Raphael has you under his thumb. We have to do this before it is too late.”

"Stop it. This isn’t helping me.”

Wyll took a step closer, "This isn't just about you anymore. Astarion has grown reckless. We are doing this for the city. We cannot allow his influence to grow. We were his friends. It is our duty to stop him." 

"Stop - what you’re saying, it’s…” she shook her head, "this isn’t the way!"

Halsin exhaled, stepping forward, “He’s done things, Adeline. Since you left.” 

Jaheira’s voice was firm. “Halsin and I scouted ahead as rats. We saw the carnage ourselves.”

Halsin nodded, "The blood. The bodies…" he stopped himself, watching her carefully. "The space he has made for you – he is determined to get you back – to make you suffer."

She felt like everyone was turning on her. 

Shadowheart was next, “You weren’t happy, Adeline. And he isn’t happy without you. Astarion - unhappy, unhinged - he’s dangerous to everyone.”

Adeline shook her head, “I don’t want him to die. I don’t want him gone. Not when I made this whole mess.”

Shadowheart brushed her arm, “He already is gone.”

“The old Astarion, our friend - he wouldn’t have wanted this," Karlach insisted.

Adeline shook her head. She wanted to argue, to tell them that they were wrong - but they had already decided. 

She swallowed hard, giving it one last shot “Is there no other way?”

She knew she was losing. That she had already lost.

Jaheira didn’t flinch, “We’re doing this.”

One by one, the others nodded. The finality of it crushed her. She couldn't stop them. 

Did he truly have to die? She knew he was too far gone. That he would do unspeakable things to her if he found her. But the thought of never seeing him again hurt. Knowing that she drove him to the edge. 

To know that if she only was strong enough to stop him that day, it would have never come to this. If she just stayed and endured. 

When she realised her words were in vain, she turned and moved back toward the portal.

The moment she stepped through, Raphael was waiting. As soon as she saw him, her eyes wettened. When he noticed, he pulled her into a tight embrace, running his fingers through her hair. His arms convinced her things could be okay. And she hated it. She hated how accustomed she had grown to his comfort. Hated him. 

~

Raphael looked ahead as he hugged her close to himself. She couldn't stop them. He didn’t think she would, but it was worth a try. If they succeed - if Astarion dies - she would be free. She would no longer need his protection. And then… he may lose her forever. The thought of that clawed at him. This insidious thing he could not shake.

Perhaps he could ensure it never came to that? A new contract, binding her to him before she ever heard the news. A careful omission of the truth to convince her that they had backed down. Or… kill them before they get to him. 

But would she ever forgive him if she found out? And… could it be that she’d choose to stay, even if she didn’t have to? Was that a risk he could take? Astarion couldn’t. But could he?

Maybe it was time he told her, she never needed his spell to be free. That she was never under Astarion’s command to begin with.

Chapter Text

Raphael was hunched over a piece of parchment, quill in hand. The assault was happening. Tonight, Astarion was likely to die. And this contract had to be signed before the news spread. His other option was to kill them all, but Astarion was growing reckless, causing unrest in the city. He couldn't allow such chaos to persist. It was bad for business. So... it all came down to this contract. 

He tried to find the words but they never felt quite right. Binding clauses, safeguards and promises too tempting to deny. It had always come easy to him. Like second nature.

Crafting the perfect trap should have been easy. She had trusted him once. She could again.

One carefully phrased contract. A single signature. That’s all it would take. And she would be his. 

So why was it so difficult?

He leaned back in his chair, eyes narrow. He had signed thousands into ruin with far less effort.

This was taking too long.

Because she would read it. And despite how angry she was, a part of her still trusted him.

And that - that - was the problem.

The questions she would ask... the half truth’s he’d have to tell her...

Just a few weeks ago, she came into this very office, ignoring his protests as she sat on his desk, invading the space no one else would dare. Since her arrival, not a day had passed without interruption. Not one day of undisturbed work.

And yet, he had never felt more... at ease.

In her company, his plans for dominion faded into background noise. 

Adeline had managed to worm her way in. And he had let her. She would study him. Try to find whatever it was she sought in him. At first he was entertained by it. Then he hated it. 

But now?

Now the silence was unbearable.

He missed her smiles that came easier with each dinner they shared. The music from her quarters, filling the halls and bringing this hollow space to life. How she would relax in his embrace and place her fate in his hands, however naive that was. 

He swirled his hand, conjuring a projection in the air. And there she was - sleeping. Her pillow was damp and her eyes were red. She had cried herself to sleep.

His doing.

The sight caused a coldness to spread in his chest. An oppressive and foreign pit. 

Why did she have such a hold on him? This miserable... creature. Pathetic . Utterly pathetic.

Had he become everything his father accused him of being? 

He remembered the first time he held her. Useful, broken and fragile. Comforting her after Astation had broken her. 

And now? He was about to do the breaking. 

If she signed this contract, she would stay. She would be his.

But in time, she would rot. And her love? It would wither and corrupt. She’d smile less. Shrink. And at last, she’d hate him. She’d writhe if he tried to touch her. 

But why should he care? Devils take what they want, the rest be damned.

But she had chosen to kiss him that night.

Could she choose him again, knowing everything? 

He looked at the contract.

This was all it took - some ink and she’d be his. Forever. 

His.  

He took one last look at the contract. 

And then -  he tore it in half.

He would tell her everything. 

Perhaps then she'd hate him, leave these halls and this pathetic obsession would burn out. He'd be done with it - done with her. And finally return to a time when things made sense. 

He knocked at her door.

“Adeline?”

After a few seconds, he heard the rustling of her sheets.

“Come in."

He crossed the room. 

She was sitting up now, blinking at him, “What is it?”

“I have to tell you something.”

~

She sat up straight and pulled the blanket tighter around herself.

Raphael exhaled and straightened his back. 

“I didn’t break any bond that day," he admitted. "I merely cast a spell of clarity. The rest... you did yourself."

Adeline frowned. What was he talking about?

"The bond between you and Astarion. There was no bond to sever," he continued. "Not the way you believed."

The words sank in slowly. Was he talking about the spell?

“What do you mean? I’m not his spawn now. I can refuse his commands.”

Raphael sat down at the edge of her bed, “You were never his spawn. Not truly.”

She shook her head slightly, trying to fit the pieces together.

“Did he never tell you? How vampires are created? You die. You claw your way free from the grave. It’s agony. But you? It was different. You are not bound to him the way his spawn are.”

He had told her once, how he dug himself out of his own grave, but she thought it another cruelty of Cazador’s. 

But if she was no spawn, why had it felt so real? Why had her body heeded, whenever he gave a command?

"Then why-"

"Because you love him. You were turned into his consort. And that bond - built not on choiceless obedience, but on devotion - it was strong enough - perhaps even stronger.”

Whenever he refused to call her his spawn, there was truth to it. It wasn’t just his way of making her feel special. How stupid she had been.

"And you let me believe it?"

“Of course. Or you wouldn’t be here.”

"So, why now? Why are you telling me this now?"

“Astarion might die tonight. And when he does - you won’t need me."

Adeline didn’t speak. She only waited for him to continue. 

"I thought about drafting a contract. Binding you to me before you could realize it. I thought about stopping your friends. Killing them before they reached him. Before they killed Astarion. That way, you’d always need me. That way, you’d never leave."

She flinched, but she didn’t look away. His confession didn’t surprise her. The fact that he didn’t follow through - that was what surprised her. 

"But it has to happen. He must fall. And you... I won’t keep you here. If you want to leave, I won’t trick you. Not this time."

The room was thick with silence. Was this a game? He could have killed her friends. Blamed it on Astarion. He could have gotten away with it. But he didn’t. He told her the truth. Odd. What did he stand to gain here?

No matter his motives, the fact remained. The assault was happening. So, she focused on whatever came next. 

"I want to go. I want to be there. And I want you to help them succeed."

She swallowed hard, "And when it’s done… I want to bury the Astarion I loved.”

He raised an eyebrow, waiting for her to continue. 

What she saw in front of her was a devil. A liar. A manipulator. He may have told the truth, but devils never give anything for free. He had led her to believe he was more than that once. And she wouldn't fall for it again. He expected her to forgive him, but she couldn’t. Not now. 

“As for whatever happens after… I can't say just yet."

He sat there for a moment.

Then at last, he gave a single nod.

"Okay."

Chapter Text

They stepped through the portal into war.

The scent hit her first - blood, sweat, smoke and burning flesh. Fist soldiers fought side by side with her companions, holding the line against Astarion’s spawn. 

Wyll was at the center, directing the fists with precision. Shadowheart moved behind the front lines, her hands glowing with divine light, healing the wounded, shielding the weak.

Then she saw them - Jaheira, Minsc, Karlach - facing him.

Astarion.

He was barely human anymore.

His face was smeared with blood and his shirt was all but torn open. He moved unleashed, fast and lethal. And each wound he took, he ignored as if it didn’t matter. 

This was what was left. And it broke her heart.

Jaheira staggered, blood trailing down her temple, her scimitar firm in her grip. Astarion was fast. Too fast. He ducked a swing from Minsc, twisted under Karlach’s axe, and lunged - claws aiming straight for Jaheira’s throat.

“No-!”

Adeline’s hand thrust forward on instinct, and raw force exploded from her palm. It hit Aastarion in the chest, hurling him away from Jaheira and knocking him off balance. He found his footing shortly after. 

Then his eyes found her. 

Recognition. Rage. Shit. 

He rose and with death in his eyes, he went for Adeline. His gaze was fixed on her, not as a lover, nor as his consort, but a target. 

Adeline prepared another blast, but her hands were trembling. And Astarion was fast. Too fast. 

Was this the end? 

And then, Astarion halted mid-stride. 

Raphael was there. Standing behind Adeline, his hand raised, causing Astarion to writhe onto his knees and clutch onto his temple. 

He was weak. Vulnerable. Adeline swallowed hard. This was it. Time to strike. It had to be done. 

But she couldn’t do it. She was just as deserving of death as he was. 

Behind him, Karlach reached for the stake strapped to her thigh. 

She appeared behind him, raging and full of determination. 

No hesitation. 

She drove the stake through his back, straight into his heart. Just as she swore she would if he ever hurt Adeline. 

Astarion gasped sharply. Then he fell. 

Adeline misty stepped to catch him, dropping to her knees and finding his face before he took his last breath. 

Karlach took a step back, blood still dripping from her stake. A solemn expression in her face. But she didn’t say anything. Not yet. 

Astarion's eyes found Adeline’s. 

There was no hatred in them any more. No vengeance. No pride. Just the quiet, aching recognition of someone who knew he was dying. 

And Adeline stayed with him. Held him. Comforted him as he took his final breath.

Her eyes glistened as he weakened in her arms, “I’m sorry. I am so sorry.”

He blinked slowly in recognition, exhaling, slow. Final. 

Then he was gone. 

And the fighting stopped.

All at once, the rage left the room. The few remaining spawn froze where they stood, weapons still raised. 

Their master was gone. They looked at Astarion’s body. Then at Adeline.

She didn't look, but she felt their attention on her. They looked to her for answers now. 

As she dried her tears, she lifted her gaze to the spawn that was at the fists' mercy. 

“Please. Lower your weapons. Don’t fight.” she asked. 

These were the broken remnants of their family. Not monsters. But people. People who were stolen from their own homes and thrust into a blood-lust, no different to her own. They were innocent and deserved to live. 

"Stay here. We will sort this out somehow. You don't have to die."

They listened. Didn't try to run or escape. And everyone lowered their weapons. 

Adeline had no idea what to do with them, all she knew was they deserved a chance. Wyll would make a fair judgement. She trusted him to do that for her. To give them the same chance, he is willing to give her. 

Then footsteps came behind her.

She didn’t turn but felt them gather.

Shadowheart was the first to speak. “We’re sorry.”

Adeline closed her eyes and winced. 

Karlach’s voice came next, “We had to. You know that, right?”

She opened her eyes, exhaled, “I’m not mad. Not at you, anyway.”

She looked down at Astarion’s face, now still.

“I want to bury him.” She looked up, meeting Halsin’s eyes, “Will you help me?”

He nodded, “Where?”

Adeline brushed a hand through Astarion’s hair, “The place his parents picked for him,” she said with a smile, "He told me they made a grave for him, held a funeral and everything.”

They nodded, prepared to give Adeline whatever she needed right now.

Halsin picked up Astarion's body and laid the body down with care. Then he took a step back, giving her a moment alone.

Adeline knelt beside Astarion’s body. 

“I should have stopped you. I should have spoken up. I saw you losing yourself and I just… I let it happen.”

She gently caressed his cheek, “I thought I was giving you what you needed that day... that you'd finally be free. That this was our chance to be together, forever. But it was killing you. That day, when we killed Cazador... that was the day you died too.”

She took out her dagger, her hand trembling slightly, and carved a second date beneath the first one. 

One date marked his death as a man.

The other marked the day he stopped being one.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered. “For not being strong enough to save you. For being too scared.”

She leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to his forehead. 

“I hope you’d find it in your heart to forgive me. Even if I don’t deserve it.”

Then she got on her feet, gripped the shovel, and started to dig. Her cheeks were wet and her throat pained, as she bawled. 

Halsin rushed to her side and gently pried the shovel from her fingers. He didn’t say a word. Just dug. Eventually he laid  Astarion in his grave. 

And when it was done - when the grave was filled - he turned to her and knelt down to her level.

Adeline didn’t resist as he pulled her into his arms.

She collapsed into his embrace. And she began to bawl. Letting it all go.

Chapter Text

Adeline was kneeling beside Astarion’s grave. Her eyes were dry now, burned out from all the tears she had spilt. 

The sun crept low and Astarion's proximity no longer kept her safe from it’s rays. It was time to find shelter. At her request, the others had agreed to meet her in the Elfsong tavern. It was time she joined them. 

A breeze moved through the grass. She closed her eyes to it.

All night, his ascension had played on a loop behind her eyelids - the moment she should’ve stopped him.

If she’d spoken up… would it have been enough?

Even the good memories were tainted by the thought of what could have been. Had she just been stronger. 

If she had just taken the few good years she had as a human rather than trading it for… this. She was scared. And it was selfish. And that guilt would follow her. 

But somehow she had to move on. To live. 

She turned her head. 

Raphael hadn’t moved. He stood where he’d been all night, leaning against a wall, not far from Dammon’s forge. To keep her safe. Or maybe… just waiting to hear her decision. To get his answers.  

She rose slowly. Then walked towards him. He stayed where he was… But he straightened when she approached. 

“Are you alright?”

“No. But I will be.” 

A beat passed. 

“Where will you go now?”

The question lingered. There was hope in it. But also uncertainty. He no longer masked any of it. The devil that was not so much a devil. 

She looked up at him. Then stepped in close, resting her head against his chest. Despite everything, she still loved him. Felt his pain as her pain. 

He didn’t hesitate. His arms came around her. 

An embrace so tight, she almost changed her mind. Almost … 

She stayed there for a minute, needing to feel his warmth and be close when she finally told him: 

“I want to stay with them. Karlach. Wyll. Shadowheart… all of them. While I still can.”

He didn’t move, but she felt the breath he let out. Long. Quiet. Heavy. He didn’t argue - but he wanted to. More than anything. 

“But they won’t be here forever, they’re not immortal,” she reassured, “Not like we are.”

The hope returned to his tone, “And when they’re gone?” 

She paused.

“Perhaps there will be a time for us.”

She lifted her gaze to meet his, “If you’ll still have me.”

He reached up, brushed a strand of hair behind her ear. 

“I’ll wait.”

Adeline formed a half smile that somehow reached her eyes. Then she leaned in, resting her cheek against his chest again.

He didn’t say anything. Neither did she. For a long moment, they just hugged like that. 

Then, she broke the silence with a soft laugh, “Promise not to kill them before their time.” 

He huffed, “You really don’t make this easy, do you?”

“Raphael.”

“Fine. I won’t touch them. I’ll even keep my hands off the druid, if he keeps his off of you”

She laughed, “Do you expect me to stay celibate all these years?”

“I will.”

Her smile faltered. He wasn’t joking.

“Really?”

Raphael met her gaze, steady. “Yes.”

“Hmm... I guess it's fair. You wait for me. I wait for you. But I'm not signing any contracts.”

“I’ll miss you,” he admitted.

“This doesn't have to be goodbye. You and I both know I’m not one for long vows of chastity. You’ll have to visit once a while.”

He smirked, “I… might’ve picked up on that.”

She squinted her eyes, “Raphael!” 

“What? You must admit - you were a tad wild in your youth.”

She smiled and shrugged, “Alright, I admit it. A bard has to stay true to their craft. Do you have any idea how much Baldurians would pay for the kind of filth we’ve-”

He cut her short, “I’m well aware, dear. Are you aware how many bards have offered me the same for a night?”

“So... you do know.”

“Indeed. And you’d better not put any of it in writing. You may have your freedom, but there are limits.” 

She rolled her eyes, “Or what? You'll turn me into a lemure?” 

“I just might.”

“Oh hush you,” she muttered as she settled her cheek against his chest again.

Then, quieter: “Promise you’ll visit. If you ever start slipping… Losing sight of things. Come find me. I don’t want to lose you too.”

He tipped his head slightly and smirked, “To be put in my place?”

“To be reminded. Of this.”

His smile faded. He looked at her for a long moment - truly looked. Then the words came:

“I love you.”

She stilled. Let it sink in. 

Then she smiled warm and bright, “I know.”

She reached up, fingers brushing along his jaw. He leaned into her touch, then lowered his head until their lips met.

A long, steady kiss. Not a goodbye. Not quite.

But a kiss that had to last - for now. 

~

When they parted, he pressed a kiss to her forehead and exhaled. 

He would have surrendered the mace and more if she’d only follow him back home. But this was the choice he had given her. 

Her hands stayed on his chest, “You chase the Hells. Make it a place worth living. Just… don’t lose yourself to it. Okay?”

His eyes didn’t leave hers. “And you, go find whatever pieces you’ve lost along the way. I’ll be waiting. And when you are ready, the hells will be ours.” 

~

Adeline smiled. It didn’t sting anymore. He loved her enough to let her go. And she had to love him enough to let him be. She couldn’t ask him to abandon his ambitions - not when he’d given her the freedom to chase hers.

So, with one final kiss, she turned and walked away. And when she looked back one last time, she saw the strangest thing. He was smiling. 

She took a deep breath and kept moving forward. Vendors were getting ready to open. Life continued. 

And she was now a part of it. 

She reached the Elfsong Tavern and was welcomed by the familiar smell of ale and roasted meat. Her eyes found the table near the back. The same one they used to sit, arguing over whose turn it was to pay. 

Astarion always carried the most coin, but getting him to part with it was an art in and of itself. The memory pulled a quiet laugh from her. The extravagant promises she’d have to resort to, gods, he could be stingy. 

As she approached, they all looked up. Karlach, Wyll, Shadowheart, Halsin, Minsc and Jaheira. 

The table was emptier than it was back then, but amidst the bitterness, there was hope. 

Adeline drew a breath. 

She was free. 

And Raphael - he loved her. Enough to let her go. Enough to wait. 

She walked toward the table. 

Toward her friends.

Toward whatever came next.