How (Not) to Lose Your Heart to the Devil (Baldur's Gate 3)

Step One: Be unpredictable (especially towards yourself)

The table was decked.
No.
The table was all but creaking underneath the weight of the delicacies heaped upon it. It would have made Rhia's mouth water after Gale's failed attempts at cooking were it not for the distinct smell of sulphur and brimstone hanging in the air.

Ugh...
After successfully leaving Avernus behind the young tiefling had hoped that she would never have to set foot in the Nine Hells again.
Wishful thinking, alas.

Rhia's eyes flickered from the feast to the human in front of her. Except that- creature was anything but human.

Dark hair, sun-kissed skin and an admittedly handsome face, if a false one.
His sly smirk was disconcerting; though not so much as the look in his dark eyes.
Hungry, ambitious, cunning.

A devil in disguise.

Rhia could feel her companions shifting behind her. Wyll's good eye frantically scanned their surroundings, Astarion reached for his concealed blade and Gale stepped back, but kept his silence, undoubtedly already planning their escape.

"Sit down, partake in the lavish supper I had my servants prepare just for you," Raphael said with a wink.
His eyes were solely fixed on her, not paying the others any attention so far.

Rhia held his stare, deciding whether to gut him or run. Both unlikely prospects, to be frank.

How to beat a devil at his own game?
By not playing by his rules, most likely.
They do love their rules, after all.

"So, what will it be, my tadpole-infested friend?" he purred.

"That cinnamon roll does look tempting," Rhia chirped, reaching for the sweet goodness, ignoring Wyll's horrified look.

"A tiefling with a sweet tooth? Huh... predictable-" Raphael began, before the pastry hit his face, enveloped in a thick ball of flame.

A thick puff of smoke later, the devil finally showed his true colours; red wings and all.

A cambion, how quaint. Rhia thought, rolling her eyes.

His booming laughter took her off-guard. She had expected a curse, roaring hellfire, or his Wrath, but not this.

"Not so predictable after all, little mouse," he chuckled, running his clawed fingers over his burned skin, healing it instantly. He spread his wings as if to allow the lowly mortals to bask in his hellish splendour.

Dramatic much?

"Using fire against a devil, however... did they teach you nothing in that orphanage?"

Rhia's insides froze for a second at the mention of the more unpleasant aspects of her past, before regaining her composure. She wasn't surprised that he knew about that. Information and deceit were a devil's bread and butter after all.

"It did just what I wanted it to do. Forcing you to show your true face, devil," she clapped back, crossing her arms in front of her chest.

The cambion's expression turned impish. "Reminds you of home, does it?"

Rhia let out an annoyed sigh. "You never shut up, do you? Just tell me what you're after and be done with it. I don't have all day."

"Understandable. Considering the looming threat of spontaneous ceramorphosis following your every step," Raphael conceded, but Rhia couldn't help but notice the subtle change in his fiendish expression.

Her tone must have rubbed him the wrong way.
Good. She was on the right track then.

"Let me guess: you'll remove the tadpole in exchange for my soul?" She asked, leaning against the table.

"Well, it's not as if you had anything else of value for me, is it?" he retorted, tilting his head.

"True. I'm just a poor little tiefling with nothing but the magic coursing through my veins and an illithid tadpole to keep me company. I'm so glad that my saviour just decided to pop up in the middle of nowhere to offer me salvation," she said, not being stingy with the sarcasm.

Raphael watched her in contemplating silence.

"I mean, what are the odds? For a cambion to find me in my time of need? In my darkest hour—"

The devil closed the distance between them effortlessly, his face now inches in front of hers.
"This is not your darkest hour, not yet at least, demon child," he hissed.

Out of the corner of her eye, Rhia could see Wyll unsheathing his blade.
"The Blade of Frontiers will not stand idly by when—"

Raphael pursed his lips, sighing. "Some pups are astoundingly untrained. Off you go, you already have a Mistress," he grunted, snapping his fingers and making her three companions vanish into thin air.

Rhia narrowed her eyes at him. "Send me back, now, devil."

"Daring tone for someone in your situation." He hissed, not moving an inch.

"I know a nasty spell or two that can make even your day a living hell. So to speak," Rhia warned, feeling the tides of magic bristling through her body.

It was no bluff. Her magic was as volatile as it was useful.
However, she damn well knew that engaging in combat with him would be her death.
Knowing that he wanted, no, needed something from her was making Rhia suspect that the devil wouldn't let it come that far.
Hopefully.

Raphael's grin widened as he looked down on her a look of intrigue on his face.

"Oh my... being threatened in my own home. And it's not even my birthday," he chucked, taking a step back.

"As much as I enjoy our little clap-back, I think we need to start over. I'm not your enemy. Let me prove it to you," he said gesturing to the huge table.

"Dine with me tonight. No strings attached. Just two people getting to know one another over a glass of wine discussing some common goals in the process."

Rhia thought about it for a moment. Shaking her head at herself mentally. You're not seriously considering this, are you?

Raphael walked over to the table, his steps were precise, and confident, just like the smirk on his lips.

She raised a warning finger at him.
"I'm not signing anything. I'd rather kill myself than—"

The devil let out a huff, pulling up the chair for her. "No need to be so dramatic. I won't make you sign anything, not today at least."

Despite her better judgement, Rhia stepped towards him, sitting down on the offered chair.
"Tell me one thing, though. There are six other people with the same unusual parasites in their brains. Why me?"

Rhia could make out a faint growl vibrating through the cambion's chest when he leaned down towards her pushing her chair towards the table.

"Because you are unpredictable. And I do love a challenge," Raphael imparted.

***

The food was delicious, and the drinks were the perfect mix of inebriating and relaxing.
And by the end of their supper, Rhia knew three things.

One: that devil was dangerously charming. His charms were only surpassed by the few incubi Rhia had met during her unwilling time spent in Avernus.

Raphael was courteous to a fault, his witty humour almost wrapping her around his clawed finger had she not been on high alert the whole time.
Rhia would have been lying if she denied finding his fiendish appearance intriguing; his imposing figure... haunting...

Moving on!

Two: he was definitely planning something. Something bigger than the peculiar tadpoles or that new Cult of the Absolute.

Three: Rhia had no idea what really drove the cambion, or how she would manage to resist his temptations during more desperate times.
The only thing she did know was that she had to resist him for the sake of her soul and her heart, for a devil had neither.