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A simple knock, that’s all it was. A firm rap of knuckles upon hard wood that echoed with the ominous presence that stood behind it. Tav looked at the door as if it could reveal the secrets of the visitor’s identity with just a stern glance, but they felt they knew exactly who it was even as their hand reached for the lock.
He could be patient, but he would not be kept waiting for long.
Tav grimaced at the creaking of rusty hinges as the door to their simple home opened to reveal the visitor upon the threshold, suddenly feeling far too exposed under his amber-tinted eyes.
Raphael.
True to his word, the devil had indeed come knocking at their door, although to their surprise his chestnut hair was not topped with the crown he had been given, nor with the horns of his cambion form. Instead, he stood before them much the same as he had upon their first meeting, the charm almost radiating from him. For all intents and purposes, he appeared to be little more than a well-kept nobleman paying a visit to the riff-raff of the lower city for reasons that were on a need to know basis. And right now, Tav needed to know…
“Well?” Raphael looked on expectantly, sunlight forming a deceptive halo behind him.
“Oh…oh!” Tav suddenly remembered their manners, several moments too late if the slight crinkling of the devil’s nose was any way to judge it. “Please, do come in. I…I’m sorry it’s a bit-”
“No matter, if I had required a more suitable entrance, Little Mouse, I would have brought you to my home rather than coming to see you here.” He swept past them, the lingering aroma of cherry, palmarosa, and black pepper in his perfumes drifting with him. They remembered it well, the same scent following him everywhere he went like a signature of his presence written in the very air around him. “I believe I promised to come knocking at your door, so here I am. Tongue and all.”
A slight shiver of anticipation crept up Tav’s spine as they recalled the times they’d met before. Barbed words exchanged, their verbal games of cat and mouse that seemed all too real when he took his other form, yet somehow they had managed to impress him. And of course, the found his presence to be…captivating. They closed the door and motioned to the table and chairs, where sad wilted flowers sat in an equally depressing vase, providing the only colour upon the dreary, cracked wood. “Please, take a seat-”
“No, no. This will not do.” Raphael tutted, gesturing disapprovingly towards the pitiful array of furniture. With a wave of his hands, the rickety chairs were replaced with mahogany and velvet cushions, the table a polished and ornately carved piece that would not look out of place in a palace. The drooping blossoms became an impossibly large bouquet of crimson roses, a hue not unlike his cambion skin - even the cruelly sharp thorns were reminiscent of his claws and the wicked barbs upon his horns. Of course he would leave his mark upon their home. “There, isn’t that better?”
“Thank you, I think…” Tav looked at the chairs, noting that one was a little larger and more throne-like than the others. Wisely, they chose to sit on the one opposite. “So, to what do I owe the honour of your visit?” They cringed at the formality of their own words, but speaking casually felt like it would be vastly inappropriate in the face of the grandiose gestures they had been presented with.
“Do I need to check those ears of yours? Or did the tadpole take a little too much of your mind before you were rid of it?” Despite his words, the devil had a grin upon his face, watching every moment of their reaction as he took his seat and leaned back against the plush upholstery. “I told you, did I not, that I promised a visit once my crown had been delivered. Thus, I have come to make good on my word.”
“The crown,” Tav’s eyes drifted to the empty space upon his head, “where is it?”
“I hardly require such a powerful trinket for a chat, do I? Or is your hospitality to be as short-lived as your fame and fortune for being a hero?” The smirk had an edge of cruelty as the words cut like daggers. It was true - despite everything, Tav had ended up here, in a half-broken shack in the Lower City, barely any coin left to their name. “Such gratitude, but fear not - I will not allow my favourite client to remain destitute.”
“You’re not suggesting I make a deal, are you? I think I’ve had enough contracts for one lifetime, if it’s all the same to you.” They could almost feel his claws looming above them, waiting to descend in a trap they would have no way out of this time.
“Now what makes you think that? No, I’m not here for your soul - you are far from the depths of desperation which would make it worth my time to watch you squirm under my grasp.” Tav flinched as he raised his hand, but was surprised to see wine conjured into it instead of any danger, glasses appearing on the table along with a small feast of delicacies. “Might I instead propose a toast, and a far simpler exchange. I will brighten your home, show you the gratitude that this city has neglected to do so, and all you need to do is share this evening with me.”
“That… It sounds too simple. What’s the catch?” They regarded him carefully, expecting the food to change to rotten scraps, or the wine to contain some vicious poison to which only he held the cure.
“So suspicious, Little Mouse, but that is how you lived this long after all, is it not?” Raphael’s expression softened, which was somehow even more disconcerting. “There would be little point in poisoning my favourite client, nor do I wish to see you meet your untimely demise or become a pitiful debtor beneath my heel. I will eat before you, if that would ease your mind, though I would rather earn your trust with my words. Hell has its laws, and I am not one to break them.”
“Then…if that’s all it is, just an evening? I…I don’t see why not.” Tav thought it over. It was simple, and the devil was already beginning to dine. Besides, it wasn’t as if spending more time with him hadn’t crossed their mind. The thought came to them often, wondering what it might be like to know him without the pressure of the tadpole burrowing through their skull, without the ink of the contract underlining every moment of their conversation. “It’s a deal, then. One evening.”
“There, that wasn’t so hard, was it?” Raphael smiled, watching over his wine as they selected all of their favourite foods, sipping from their own chalice, finally beginning to relax.
—
It took several hours to finish the meal, the pair discussing all kinds of matters from the mundane to the unthinkable depths of the devil’s dealings. An observer might have thought them to be old friends catching up after a time apart, or perhaps young lovers on a first date learning all there was to know about one another.
Tav found themselves wishing the meal would never end, but truth be told it felt as if one more bite might cause them to burst apart at the seams - and that would not be fitting for the company they now kept..
“Here, drink this.” Raphael handed over a small crystal glass, which like everything else appeared to have been plucked from thin air. “A simple remedy, for overindulgence.”
This time, Tav didn’t question it. The liquid was cool and soothing, a lingering taste of mint and herbs that sank to their stomach like a soft caress. Within moments, they felt completely refreshed. “How-”
“One must be prepared, Little Mouse.” He stood from his chair, and their heart dropped at the thought he might leave. “Speaking of, you are hardly dressed for the occasion.”
“Occasion? What do you mean?”
“Why, a
dance
, of course.” Once again, the devil waved his hands and Tav’s own outfit transformed this time. Worn leathers and threadbare cloth replaced by embroidered silks that fit their form beautifully, black and gold with hints of red and a wide crimson sash at their waist. He nodded his approval. “Better.”
Tav began to protest, their cheeks beginning to match the embellishments of their outfit. “This is…it’s too much-”
“No such thing,” he dismissed their concern once more before infernal flames wrapped around his body transforming him into his towering cambion form. Suddenly, ethereal music began to weave through the air as he bowed and extended a hand to them.
Tav’s heart tried to make an escape through their throat, leaping at the sight of the devil himself lowering his horns before them in a graceful gesture that would not be out of place in a romance novel. His next words sealed the fate of their heart in a single divine moment:
“May I have the honour of this dance?”