Chapter Text
To win a game of lanceboard, one must always be two steps ahead of their opponent, minimum. Raphael knew this, playing the game with perfection even when nothing was on the line, because he had to win. Failure would never be an option. And in this game, where everything he had worked for was at stake, he couldn't afford to make a mistake. Every possibility had to be accounted for.
The little mouse, his most beloved pawn on the board, had signed the contract. So, no matter what, he had her. Whether she decided to be smart and move as he wanted, or whether she decided to be stupid, betray him, and he would be forced to remove that pawn from play. Still, he had faith his mouse would keep true. Afterall, she had played her role well, up to this point. And he had plans for that pawn.
As he sat at his lanceboard set in the Devil's Den, eyes scanning over the pieces, his attention was diverted by the sound of the door opening. Surprising. He hadn't expected to see her again until her job was done. A step out of line did not bode well for her chances. Still, he stood and entered the main room of the den to greet her.
Much as her appearing was unplanned, it wasn't about to ruin his day. Quite the opposite. A devilish grin always seemed to remain on his face whenever he looked at her. She was a pleasant addition to any day.
Though, she seemed nervous as she looked at him, gripping her own arm as if to steady herself. She was alone, which was rare for her. But again, this was not a detriment. On the contrary, her companions always seemed so disapproving every time she spoke with him, careful to caution her about dealing with the devil. Alone, just a little mouse in the fox's den, he had no doubts he could lead this conversation (whatever it was to be about) in his favor.
"My most esteemed client," he said, "to what do I owe the pleasure?"
The ghost of a smile touched her lips but quickly it was gone. "I just wanted to update you."
He withheld judgment for a moment, his mind already running through all the possible things she could say.
"It's just," she continued, "well, we have all the Netherstones, so we're going to go confront the brain."
What was she about to ask for? He could almost feel it in the air. She wanted something. She wouldn't just come here for a friendly chat. Besides, he already knew she had the stones thanks to Korrilla.
"So you will," he said. "And eagerly I await your return," he paused for a moment, "with the crown."
Was she about to try and renege on the deal? He tapped a finger against his arm, impatiently. Surely, she wouldn't be so stupid.
"Of course," she said, allaying his fear for a moment. His little mouse took a meandering glance around the room and let her legs follow her glance, wandering with seemingly no purpose. She was no longer looking at him, and, for whatever reason, he didn't like that.
She wandered closer, closer than he expected, right within his reach. He could've grabbed her if he wanted. Could've done anything he wanted, it was just to the two of them and she was powerless compared to him. Still, he waited. She had a plan, it seemed, and he would anticipate it with bated breath.
Her eyes returned to him (where they belonged) and she smiled. "I just wanted to say goodbye, in case, well…"
Foolish of her. She wasn't going to die in this fight. Not when he still had need of her. And besides, even if, contrary to all his careful plans, she did manage to catch a fireball to the face with no potions in her bag, he would just claim her soul once it reached the other side. So long as her contract sat in its place of pride in his archive, there would be no "goodbyes" between them. Still, the sentiment was cute.
"There will be no need for goodbyes, pet. I promised you dinner when this is done, did I not?"
Appreciation glowed across her face. She broke eye contact with him again, and his frustrations rose again. When this was all over, he would make sure she knew where her eyes were supposed to stay. But, he noticed, while she did not look in his eyes, she was still looking at him, at his hands, at his chest, just stopping short of his face. Her hands fidgeted at her sides. She had something to say. Something she was holding back.
"Cat got your tongue?" he pressed.
Her gaze returned to where it belonged and she took another step closer to him. She was closer than he usually let people get. One small blast of fire, just a quick singeing, would fix that and force her back. But he found he didn't want to. Too curious about her next move to prevent it.
His little mouse stepped even closer, her chest dangerously close to his. This was a development of their game he hadn't anticipated, but his mind was cycling through ideas for moves he had believed too risky to try. Maybe there was a chance to change the game altogether. Although, to hope would be laughable weak of him
She stepped up onto her toes and he was sure to hold his gaze to hers. Whatever she was going to do, he would allow but, she did need to know this was a grace he had granted her. Best she make it count.
The sensation of her lips upon his cheek, cool and sweet, caused his gaze to falter. She pulled back nearly instantly but he had felt it. Her soft mortal skin pushed against his, her all too fragile breath exhaled against him. The mouse had kissed him. What in the hells was she thinking? He just had to know.
She smiled as she stepped back. And, as if she had heard his thoughts, she said, "for luck."
If she had said she was killing an errant fly, it would have been just as believable. One doesn't kiss a devil for luck, whether you are allies or enemies. So, what was her angle? What move was she looking to make next? And what did she expect of him? Did she think some saccharine gesture of "affection" would influence him? If so, she was all the more foolish. Still, if she wanted to play this game, he could react in kind. Not because he wanted to, but simply to keep the volley going.
"Until I see you again," he purred.
She did not say anything. Her smile still firmly placed on her face, she walked away from him. Though, she kept her eyes on him. Good girl. And he held her gaze the whole way, until she had escaped the Devil's Den.
Alone again, without thinking his hand shot up to caress the place where her lips had been. He felt a warmth rising in him. Not the heat of the hells that coursed through his body, but a soft, almost human, warmth. Raphael found himself turning to face a mirror, almost wanting to see if she had tried to leave a mark upon him. But there was no evidence of her little crime.
He chuckled. What a strange creature she was. If she was thinking something as small and weak as her could affect him in any way, she was delusional. Still, the events that transpired opened up new moves on the board. He wasn't sure what game she was playing, but he knew he would win.