Chapter Text
Firnitav couldn’t remember what her name had been as a small child, it had been some type of flower she thinks or something to do with one but the name itself was gone. She can barely remember the human body that went with it but she thinks that she’d gotten close with this version of her human form, skin with a slight caramel hue, eyes a swirl of green and blue, black hair that fell down her back in thick waves. It was a bold act since she’d run away from home in a blaze of flames a hundred years ago but she’d gotten complacent. Not seen any of her parent’s spies in seventy-two years, not heard of them in fifty-three.
An act that backfired the moment Mizora comes to scold Wyll for not killing Karlach, no, an act that backfired the moment Wyll had met her eyes in the battle at the Emerald Grove gate.
Because Mizora knew her, knew her father and was just enough of a spiteful little bitch to lord the fact that she knew where Firnitav was to him just because.
“Tav?” Wyll asks softly, clearly worried since she’d be staring into the fire for a full twenty minutes. It bites that Mizora could see this too, makes her want to snarl and rip out Wyll’s stupid sending stone eye so she can crush it under her heel. He flinches back a little and swallows. “I know this is not what you expected and you may not be happy about my patron being a devil. If… if you want me to leave I’ll depart without a fuss.”
She flicks her fingers in the direction of his eye making him blink before sighing, she wasn’t about to let Mizora spy on her further. “It’s not that, Wyll. Mizora and I have history.” Astarion tilts his book down a tad, clearly less interested in pretending not to be listening.
“You know that bitch?!” Karlach demanded and she sighs again.
This was a fucking mess, worse then when that fucking vampire lord Cazador threw a fit because she wouldn’t fuck him and slit her throat [that had landed her right where she’d left her home, standing in her parent’s foyer while her father had been in the middle of showing a guest to the dining room wearing a blood soaked dress. She’d run in panic and dashed through one of the portals at random while he’d given chase. It had taken her two years and several new mortal forms to lose him]. There was a tadpole in her head and now that prissy little cunt was going to tell her father where to find her.
She spies Shadowheart and Gale peeking in her direction as Karlach started getting fired up. Fuck it all. “Alright, everyone to the fire for story time.” She growls as she stalks over to the stew Gale had been simmering and grabbing a bowl. “We can eat and talk.”
“I do love entertainment with my meals.” Astarion purrs as he drops his book. He holds out a goblet and she rolls her eyes before tugging out a dagger, he grins as she slashes her palm over the goblet before Shadowheart tugs her hand away to heal it.
She waits until they all have a bowl in one hand and a wooden spoon in the other, Karlach is almost an inferno when Lae’zel takes her time putting away her greatsword.
She swallows before she starts, fidgeting with her ‘charm’ bracelet, she might not know her name or remember a lot about what she looked like before but this she remembers with a clarity that had always made her mother upset.
“When I was a small child I was under the care of Camile, my birth mother. She was… well, cruel would be a kind word to describe her. She made quite the profit selling me to nobles for a ‘night of fun’.” She says calmly, ignoring the glow of weave streaming from Gale’s fingers and the way Karlach seemed to burn brighter. “One night Lord Litton offered to buy me completely, paid enough that Camile was able to move into the higher city, without worry. Of course she took the deal, shoving me at him without a second thought. It was in Lord Litton’s estate hours later, dressed like one of those porcelain dolls only the rich could afford to get their kids, that I met my soon to be father. The devil Raphael…”
[Sexual child abuse warning]
Rosi was shaking as the maid dragged her to the dining hall where Lord Litton and his special guest were waiting. Nights with a grown-up always hurt and she was sure that having more than one adult to entertain meant that it would hurt much more.
Her only spark of comfort was that she’d been able to hide Molly-Dolly in the folds of the fluffy skirt the maids had forced her into after they’d scrubbed her raw in the bath. Molly-Dolly was a little doll she’d sewn for herself in the darkness of night with only the flickering flames of a stolen candle to guide her. Made from little scraps of expensive fabric, pretty thread, and a handful of feathers from several fancy pillows. Her little revenge for all the pain she’d had in the large homes she was forced to stay in every other night. There were two small green stones inside Molly-Dolly’s head that she was planning to make the eyes soon, she’d spotted the necklace under a dresser when she’d been shoved to the floor during her last ‘playdate’ and snatched it when he’d gone to clean up. The chain was Molly-Dolly’s new belt.
She’s dragged right to the door before the maid lets go. “Lord Litton? Mirabella is ready.” The maid says as she opens the door. Rosi scrunches up her nose at the incorrect name but doesn’t say anything, she’s used to playing pretend.
“Ah, my darling daughter. Come meet my friend, Raphael.” Lord Litton says with a smile as he gestures her into the room. Everyone always wanted to play mommies and daddies with her so she’s used to the title of ‘daughter’.
“It’s nice to meet you Mr Raphael.” She says softly as she pads over, reluctant to start the game she knew would cause her large amounts of pain.
Raphael’s eyes sweep over her assessingly before he gets out of the armchair he was lounging in. He stalks up to her then crouches and offers his hand for a handshake. “A pleasure to meet you darling.” He waits until she tentatively puts her hand in his before continuing. “I’m sorry to say this but your father has racked up quite a debit with me. In exchange for clearing the current debit he’s offered me your soul.” He says it apologetically but she’d learnt to trust the emotions in an adults eyes more than their face, and his eyes screamed sadistic pleasure.
Still, she’d only just met him and Lord Litton was one of mama’s regulars so she didn’t mind getting him in trouble. “But that’s a really bad deal.” She tells him honestly making him tilt his head a tad.
“Mirabella! Keep your…” Lord Litton starts but Raphael cuts him off with a dark look.
“And why is that, little one?” Raphael asks as he turns back to her, sadistic darkness being swallowed up by genuine curiosity.
“Because my soul’s worth so little that not even a devil would want it, mama said so and she never lies. It’s why she sells me to adults at night, because at least my body is worth something.”
Several emotions flash through Raphael’s eyes, each one making Lord Litton pale even more. “Ah.” He settles on finally, fury lighting up his eyes and making them look like they were on fire. “That’s a pity because I came all this way.”
She feels bad, especially since Raphael had been holding her hand gently. No one had held her hand so softly before. Because she does have something of value on her that she could offer up.
“Raph…” Lord Litton starts again as Raphael lets go of her hand and stands up, Raphael cuts him off with words this time.
“I’m missing dinner with my consort because you promised me payment, Elliott.” Raphael says charmingly, countered by the dangerous air around him. “I expected a quick trip that would only make me a little late, something easily excusable. Yet I’m going to have to stay well past dinner getting payment from you, aren’t I?”
Rosi feels worse, this was her fault. If she’d just not said anything Raphael would be eating dinner at home now, she could have told him later so he could come back for the actual payment but she’d stupidly spoken before she thought.
She thought she was helping…
With a swelling of sorrow she tugs up her skirt and pulls out Molly-Dolly. Tears sting her eyes as she looks at the eyeless little doll, almost finished, before she wipes them on her sleeve and rushes up to tug on the back of Raphael’s shirt. He swings towards her and, after a beat that somehow hurts more than everything anyone has done to her, she offers up the doll.
“Her… her name is Molly-Dolly.” She says softly, almost choking on the words with how tight her throat is. “She’s not a lot but she’s made out of pretty fabrics and full of soft feathers. Her eyes are inside her head at the moment because I didn’t have time to sew them on. You can…” She hates this. “You can take her as payment, so you don’t miss dinner.”
She half expects him to rip Molly-Dolly to pieces but his hands are gentle as he takes the doll from her. Running a finger over the soft velvet of Molly-Dolly’s dress.
“As lovely as Lady Molly-Dolly is the payment I require from the contract I have with Elliott is more spiritual.” She slumps a little making Raphael smile charmingly at her, his eyes swimming with calculations. “However, your offer to help me get home is something I believe is deserving of a reward. Would you like to sign a contract with me, little Rosi?”
“What’s a contract?” She asks making his grin widen. Not noticing that he’d said her real name.
“It’s an unbreakable agreement.” He tells her as he opens the hand not holding Molly-Dolly, a piece of parchment flares into life making her eyes widen. “I agree to take the good care of you until you realise how much your soul is actually worth if you agree to give me Molly-Dolly. Sound fair?”
She watches words she can’t read burning into the parchment in awe, watching each letter scorch its way across the page before looking back. “And you have to go home so you can have dinner.” She counters because she already knows what her soul’s worth so he should get something out of it.
He laughs in delight as new letters burn their way onto the page. “Determined little thing, aren’t you? Fine, are we in agreement now?” She nods. “Good, now we both sign here and we can’t break it.” He says as he points to a dotted line, a quill pops into existence and he plucks it from the air to sign. She signs too making him clap his hands. “Perfect, now hold on tight.” The quill and parchment disappear as Raphael holds his hand out, after a beat she takes it.
The world dissolves in a roaring fire making her cling to his hand before it fades and she finds herself in a grand foyer, more lavish than she’d ever seen. She can’t help but make a little impressed noise which makes Raphael grin.
“Haarlep! Make sure you’re dressed, we have a guest!” He calls as he leads her towards the stairs, peeking past him she can see a massive dining table overflowing with foods she’d never seen before but looked really good. “And your female form! Human!”
A few moments later a woman swans into the room, she looks like she could be Raphael’s sister with her dark brown hair and darker eyes. “Raphael.” Haarlep purrs as she runs her eyes over him. “With how long it was taking I thought you’d miss dinner entirely and skip to dessert. I guess I can be persuaded to e…” She cuts off abruptly as she finally spots Rosi.
There is a charged pause as Haarlep sniffs before she’s rounding on Raphael with a ferocious snarl. “Sometimes I dislike confirmation.” Raphael sighs before gently tugging her out from behind him. “Rosi, darling, would you like to tell my sweet Haarlep about our contract?”
Haarlep’s snarls grow making her swallow but she speaks softly like she was asked. “Mr Raphael promised to look after me until I knew my souls worth and make it home before dinner ended.”
Haarlep’s snarls taper off though she still looks furious. “And what did you promise in return?” Haarlep hisses.
The reminder that Molly-Dolly wasn’t hers anymore sends a sharp pain through her chest but she shoves it down. “Molly-Dolly.” Haarlep blinks in confusion making her fist her skirt. “I… I made her out of pretty and soft things I found during my adult sleepovers. I heard Lady Asher yelling at one of her maids as mama took me home once, she said the missing fabric was expensive so Molly-Dolly is worth a lot I think.”
“She must be for Raphael to accept her as payment.” Haarlep says kindly as she crouches in front of her. “Can I see?”
“I… you’ll have to ask Mr Raphael. She’s not mine anymore.” She says mournfully.
“Here.” Raphael says as he hands Molly-Dolly to her. “Why don’t you sew her eyes on while I get changed?”
“Okay.” She whispers, unwilling to question him if it gave her more time with her dearest friend.
“Come on, I’d love to meet her.” Haarlep says as she holds her hand out for Rosi to take. After a moment she does, letting Haarlep lead her away. “While we sew you can tell me all about your adult sleepovers, I’ve never heard of them before and I’m just dying to know whose involved.”
[warning over]
“Fuck!” Karlach snarls as she tosses her full bowl away, Shadowheart catches it and dumps it back into the cooking cauldron with her own. “I need to… FUCK! I need to break something, and burn something, and kill lots of somethings!” She rages.
“Normally I’m not one to suggest outright slaughter.” Astarion says causally, lying out of his teeth since he’d mentioned it four times since they’d killed the monster hunter sent by his mysterious master. “Especially before bed, but there is a camp full of goblins close whose leaders our darling Tav did promise to kill.”
“We march.” Lae’zel demands as she stalks to her tent to retrieve her greatsword.
“Why, that’s the most agreeable thing I think you’ve said since we met.” Shadowheart sasses as she scoops up her mase.
“FUCK YES! LET’S SLAUGHTER THOSE GOBLINS!” Karlach roars as she burns as bright as a star.
“I’m starting to feel like you might of stood a chance in a fight against me.” Wyll says in a small attempt to lighten the mood.
“Come on, wizard. Let’s electrocute goblins until their eyeballs melt in their skulls.” Astarion purrs making Gale roll his eyes.
“You truly know the way to a wizard’s heart, spawn.” Gale sighs before turning back to her. “Are you coming Tav? It might be good to let off some steam before you get to when you met Mizora.”
She thinks about it for a moment before she gets up and follows her new friends, the fire in her veins had been burning harder since she’d started talking after all and a little bloodletting did always douse the flames.
They shouldn’t have barrelled into the goblin camp without sleeping. Gale, Shadowheart and Wyll were low on mana, Lae’zel and Karlach were sore from the long battle killing the fake paladins, Astarion while happily fed was tired enough to form a headache and was making it everyone’s problem… She was oddly numb, a combination of relief about finally speaking about what had happened to her and their anger on her behalf waring with her worries about telling them the rest of her backstory. Not to mention that they were all in their night clothes, no protection to be seen.
Hell, she’d only known Karlach for a day, only know the rest of them for two days more.
Yet they descended and it was a bloodbath, helped along by the fact that the goblins had been sleeping. Karlach roars as she descends into the camp, slamming her greataxe into a goblin before they were fully awake, an inferno lighting the place like sunlight hadn’t left them. Lae’zel follows close and drives her greatsword through the gut of another.
Wyll lets off his last two eldritch blasts before slashing his rapier through a bugbear, Shadowheart tosses a healing word at Lae’zel who caught a stray arrow before burying her mace into the head of a goblin. Gale and Astarion make good on their promise of lightning damage.
Astarion diverts all his remaining magic into a shocking grasp that does indeed melt the goblin’s eyes before pulling out his bow to pick off the ones further away, digging into all of the ‘fun’ arrows they’d collected so far, taking great delight in starting fires and making pools of acid.
Gale sends bolts of lightning crashing into groups of goblins until he’s panting then he swings his quarterstaff around with more strength than she things anyone of them thought he had. Karlach laughs in deranged delight as he caves a goblin’s skull in.
Firnitav looks at the carnage in her soft nightgown, the infernal fires in her chest singing in time with Karlach’s flames. A taste of home that makes her annoyed and sorrowful in turn. Usually she’d use her lyra to channel her magic, liked the feel of it dancing along the wind before hitting a target, but she’d left it back at camp. Instead she lets the burning fires of Avernus pool in her palm, watching it grow and grow until it reached an inferno, then she tossed it into a group of goblins charging out of the doors. She hears the burning screams echo past the door as the fire explodes inwards.
She can feel Wyll and Karlach’s eyes on her, knows that they know what type of fire she’d used, but she ignored them. Much preferring to smile at Astarion who purrs out complements. “My, such an impressive show! Are you not impressed Gale? Why, it’s almost enough to get my unbeating heart to start moving again, my blood is currently rushing sou…”
“Yes! An impressive feat!” Gale says loudly to cut off the rest of the Astarion’s sentence. Astarion tuts playfully making Gale grin slightly before she pulls her fires back and they storm the temple.
They meet the druid Halsin at some point, a bear turned man turned bear again. Who, while visibly confused about why they were leading the slaughter in their sleep clothes, was more than happy to join their cleansing of the temple. Roaring into battle like Karlach and ripping goblins to shreds with his teeth.
The moon is high in the sky by the time they stumble out of the temple, Astarion sprawled out on Halsin’s fluffy back since he outright refused to do anymore walking. Her feet ache too, bare as they’d been leading to shallow cuts she knows she’ll have to get Shadowheart to look at in the morning, but her blood sings. She’d missed using her natural magics in the hundred years of her hiding, too scared that her parents would use it to hunt her down.
“Food then bed I think.” Gale yawns as he trudges along in front. “I suppose you can join us for the night Halsin, so long as you promise not to eat us in our sleep.”
Halsin shakes his massive head to say no but Astarion starts growling lowly. “I don’t care how big you are, if you set me down anywhere that’s not my tent I’ll drain you dry. It wouldn’t be the first time I ripped a bear’s throat out.”
“Ignore him, he’s a drama queen.” Shadowheart says playfully.
“Come say that in reaching range.” He hisses back. Mock reaching for the amused cleric.
“The choice is yours, my friend, but it would be greatly appreciated if you helped our vampiric friend get back.” Wyll says charmingly.
Halsin huffs out what she assumes is a bears laugh before padding along to follow Gale.
Astarion refuses to let go when they get to camp making Halsin huff again before tilting to the side in an effort to slide Astarion off. “I can climb walls, bitch.” Astarion mumbles into Halsin’s fur. “Good luck with your tilting.”
“Are you sure you can’t stay?” Wyll enquiries.
“To save us from Astarion’s whining if nothing else.” Gale adds.
“I’ll bite you.” Astarion hisses in promise making Gale roll his eyes.
“I’ll zap you.” He counters.
“Please.” Wyll almost begs.
Halsin eyes them all, beaten and covered in blood while ladling up over cooked bowls of stew, before shifting back into his wood elf form. “I would not say no to food.” He rumbles, absentmindedly hooking his massive hands under Astarion’s thighs so the vampire wouldn’t have to get down from his perch. “But I must go to my grove come first light.”
“We were heading that way anyway.” She hums softly making him turn to her. “Netty and Rath tasked us with finding you.”
“Zevlor asked us to murder the goblin leads.” Shadowheart adds. “It was helpful that you were both in the same place.”
“An act of fate.” He hums. “A blessing gifted to us by the oak father.”
Lae’zel tuts but hands Halsin a bowl, Astarion shuffles his hold on the massive wood elf so he can take it.
“I’m beat.” Karlach sighs as she dumps her empty bowl in the pile they had set up earlier to wash. “Can we continue story time in the morning? I’m not looking forward to spilling my tragic backstory so soon.”
“No one said you had to.” She argues making Karlach scoff.
“What? Do you think I’m going to let you spill your guts while I keep secrets? After all that bullshit? Not on your life, so you finish your tragic backstory and we’ll spill ours.”
“Gods, do we have to?” Astarion whines making Karlach glare. “Urg, fine. We’ll talk about feeling and emotional connect.”
“Great.” Karlach beams before trudging to her tent. “Glad we’re on the same page.”
Firnitav watches her companions head off to their tent’s in silence, Astarion calling Halsin ‘steed’ and directing the wood elf to his own, before calling a warm ball of hell fire to her cupped hands. She had a feeling Halsin was going to stick around even without a tadpole of his own and she only hoped that someone else filled him in on the start of her tale. More people knew about the beginnings of her past in the last few hours than anyone else, not even her parents’ were able to pull that much information from her. Much to her mother’s fury and father’s resignation.
It made her miss them in a way, Raphael and Haarlep, father and mother. She missed warm hugs and smug grins, explosive fights and extravagant make-ups, familial love hidden under devilish charms.
Not for the first time she wishes she’d never found that stupid marriage contract, the thing had sent her running without a second thought.
The bite of betrayal makes her snuff out the flame and head to her own tent. She needed to be up at first light after all.