Chapter Text
Whatever Dante had envisioned to be the top of the castle was drastically different than what he's shown. At least the roof is stable. He's noticed the evident lack of water leakage and damages to the entire place. Did the previous owner take care of that? Or was it their Father when he and his entourage lived in this place? Dante can't see Vergil taking care of it or doing any maintenance.
"This spot doesn't look too bad." Dante says, not sure if Vergil cares to listen to his musings. "It would make a good day for a wedding or some celebration to take place up here."
It's certainly better than... I have to stop reminding myself of the twisted crap that's the top of Arkham's tower. He looks around to make sure there's no strange twisted, magic battlements that exude dark magic, but it's clear. The place they are currently at is flat, void of anything else that stands out. He sees a bit of the landscape that the castle lies around in and he walks towards it.
All Dante can see are the trees that cover the forest. He walks over to see the direction of what he knows to be Lady's palace and he realizes the trees are too dense for him to see the palace.
I wonder what could've happened if I did reach over there. A part of him wants to know.
"Normally, the terrace would be for soldiers to keep watch." He hears Vergil next to him, standing next to him.
The terrace, huh?
"But I take it you have visited other locations before." Dante glances over to see Vergil looking at him, a mix of curiosity and envy in his expression. "How does our home fare compared to theirs?"
...our home? Dante wants to ask. Hearing that sounds strangely right. Why? "It's sturdy. I like it." He shrugs. "As long as the keep is up to date and there's minimal repairs... I'm fine with it. It's cozy." Vergil stares at him and Dante blinks. "What?"
Nothing. Instead, he sees Vergil sigh, pat his shoulder before gesturing him to follow him. A part of his mind raises concerns already (Somewhere I should start worrying about?), yet he trails behind Vergil, silently wondering what Vergil has to show him. It's to another section of the terrace that Dante senses something... very faint.
Ancient. Powerful... a bit more than he's felt. It's a woven mix of his and Vergil's magic, combined with unfamiliar specks of foreign magic.
More dragon magic. Vergil did mention their Father had a group of dragons that traveled with him here. He takes careful steps this time, trying to take a better look at this side of the terrace.
Faint hints of what looked like harsh training. Hints of chipped and scarred stone; faint traces of dark lines and glittering dust. He stills at the very faint lines of blood, not sure whose it was from or how-
"After I had gained better control of my draconian self, I trained with others besides Father." Vergil glares at some of the damages with silent hatred. "All of the time, they didn't treat me any less than any others. Eventually, Father sparred here with them while I started to deal with the diplomatic measures I eventually took over for."
"...Right." Dante trails off, his eyes trailing back on the blood. "Whose was this?"
Vergil stares at the blood with a scoff. "That, if I recall was the only time I injured Father after he told me he couldn't find any hints of you and Mother during our final training. A test, if you say, to see if I have exceed his expectations to take his place. In case you were worried, nobody laid a hand on me without me baring my teeth and threatening them."
Oh. A strange wash of relief makes Dante heave, feeling something oddly heavy lift from his mind. "So... I don't have to kick any dragon ass if they recognize you all of the sudden?"
Vergil smirks, eyes slitting with silent fondness. "Envious that I had others who fought against me instead of you, Dante mine?"
Well, that too. Dante forces a grin, stamping that annoyance out of his mind. "Oh God no. I've fought my fair share of assholes who wanted their asses kicked." Even if some of them were manipulative jackasses who should know better than to trek the path of corruption and power. Dante would rather not like to revisit some of those fights, thank you very much. "And soldiers. You know, being in an army did suck if not for the promise of letting out whatever fighting spirit I wanted to use."
"Hmn." Yet it doesn't stop Vergil from approaching him, tucking part of his hair behind his ear. "How endearing for me to know you've still wanted to play with me, years later."
Ack. Dante really should mask his thoughts better. "Shut up." He flushes. "Are you trying to show me this place for a reason?"
"Only to show you where I would often spar in draconian forms." Vergil glances over to more scarred rocks. "If you worry about the damages done to this place, don't. There are measures taken to make sure this castle doesn't crumble from weight."
"I wasn't about to ask..." Back to probably the reason they came here. Right. He clears his throat, getting Vergil's attention. "So you said yours came with ease."
"After a few transformations." Vergil says. "A fair warning; had you perform this in our fights, you will easily be drained."
"Meaning in the first few times we sparred, I would've been beaten faster. Right." Dante mumbles, taking another deep breath before he glances at him. He grimaces, his hand barely brushing against the covered bite, feeling something dull in its aching wound. "...do you think I can-"
"I know you have that capability to trigger; to change into the other part of you." Vergil's eyes flicker to the same area before glancing back at him, a bit more concerned. "What's holding you back this time?"
Dante opens his mouth to ask-
"The spell I used to revert you back isn't permanent." Vergil says, eyes narrowing. "That... you know why I did that."
"I'm... aware, but that's not why I'm still hesitant."
"Then what is really holding you back?"
The memories of that night still remain in Dante's mind- no, it isn't just that. It's a sum of his fears he dared not to disclose. He was told that his fire magic was volatile. He could be reckless, set fire to something and cause more harm than what he can actually do. But now- he can control his own magic, yet that small, lingering fear makes him shudder about how he can handle it in a stronger, bulkier form. Can he control himself again? His emotions not flaring up- he's not angry at Vergil anymore. Yet what if his Trigger forces him to relive that fury? That he'll screw up something again?
"It's my magic. I'm scared of it winding out of control. I don't know how much I actually have to reel in- how you do it better than me-" He gasps, looking up at Vergil's face. There's a slight stunned stare and Dante softly scoffs. "...sorry. I'm. God, I'm going to be nowhere as good as you with it."
"I know of your magic." Vergil states, sounding a bit ire. "You retain control over it well. How can you believe such idiocy when I have seen it myself?"
"Because-"
"What else is there?" He can see Vergil's hand twitch, itching to do something. That makes Dante quickly glance up, his fear slowly creeping back. Like before- gods are they about to argue again? "I can see it in your eyes. Something else prevents you from even doing it now."
Dante shivers before he closes his eyes. A part of him already wants to run back and lock himself back in the room, not coming out. Yet a part of him holds back, silently reminding him he's in this far; Vergil has the right to know. He offered to help him. So Dante might as well tell him.
"There's a lot of things I don't want to happen when and if I do. I don't want to lose myself or be some- some mindless asshole dragon or set fire to you or injure you or-"
"Dante."
"I don't want to kill you on accident." He feels a strange lump at his throat. "Is it so bad that I don't want to kill you in a form I'm scared that I'll lose control from?"
Vergil stares at him. Then he sighs, approaching him. "Then I'll just have to stay with you and tame you again."
"What? How-"
A sudden flash of light envelopes him and Dante winces, closing his eyes to prevent himself from being blinded. A second pass and then he hears a soft huff before something wraps around his- his ankle!? He yelps, eyes widening to immediately gaze on a slithering appendage and attempts to kick it off.
"One kick to my tail and I will happily toss you from the roof." Vergil's threat comes out mild and Dante looks up, seeing the dark blue dragon staring down at him.
Despite seeing the azure dragon a few times, Vergil's dragon side makes Dante shiver. It isn't from the soothing chill he feels exuding from him. He's looming over him, observing him like all of the other times. Though the 'tossing him from the roof' comment makes Dante's vein pop. "Will you really be that heartless to kick me from above?" Dante asks, his annoyed grin making its appearance.
Vergil softly scoffs, his tail suddenly curling higher and Dante is tempted not to give in to kick it off. "No."
"So let go of my leg."
"Nor will I do that." How odd; Vergil sounds offended when Dante wants to tell him it might cut off circulation to one of his legs. "Am I not allowed to do as I please in this form?"
It's the first time I'm feeling you do this . Dante sighs, trying not to tell him that it feels different than... any of Vergil's touches. Really. It's not like he'll get used to this whenever Vergil decides to wrap his tail around him. "No, no. It's just odd." His fingers gently brush against the dark blue tail in some effort to bat it off. It doesn't. "But what are you trying to show me by doing this?"
"What I mean what I said."
"You can just explain instead of-"
"I said I'll stay with you. And I won't let you go." Vergil's voice rumbles deep, his thinner part of his tail coiling around Dante's leg. A small reassurance, but it's not enough to soothe his nerves. "I won't harm you again. I know."
"Even if I-"
"I won't. I refuse to." And with a lower, pained snarl, "How can I harm the one I am very fond of?"
Fond of? How odd. He shouldn't feel his heart beat rapidly at this indirect confession. Vergil said it before, with some desperation among the bloodied, charred fight. Dante shivers, feeling those dark, deep blue draconian eyes stare at him with conviction, his voice rumbling with the words of promise. Dante barely nods before mumbling, "...can I feel them again?"
"Feel?"
"Your talons." They used to frighten him from the thought of it piercing through his skin, tearing his flesh apart before the sharp teeth sinks into him. But now.... how unusual. They look tame. They're not frightening as before. Perhaps it's the result of knowing that it's Vergil's hands that touches his skin, ever so careful like Dante's skin is porcelain. "It's odd, but hear me out- I just want to see if it feels any different than that night or- or- Gods, I'm babbling again-"
"Dante."
"Just- let me... just don't ask." His face grows hotter, embarrassed at himself at the ludicrous request. How does it feel like to touch your scales without harm?
He swears he hears Vergil emit a strange sound, bewildered and mystified before he moves closer. His larger form emits a familiar chill; the one that soothes him like a cooling balm to his fears. Dante takes a step before he grunts, feeling the tail coil tight. "You're still not going to let go of me with this tail, aren't you?"
"No." Even as Vergil extends one of his arms, presenting his talons before pausing in front of Dante. It's as if he wants to wrap around Dante's form with his claws, but with the appendage already around his leg...
He isn't sure, but the talons' colors look similar to the horns on Vergil's head. Now that he finally gets the chance to inspect him closer, in better light, maybe parts of Dante's silent fears can be assuaged that he won't get torn apart. It's about trust, remember? Dante silently tells himself, carefully taking another step before he places his hand on the draconian hand.
The claw is cool to his touch. Yet he doesn't feel Vergil flinching, instead feeling steady breathing surround him as Dante carefully, slowly studies the smooth talons before inspecting the golden-blue scales.
"They're pretty." Dante mumbles, his fingers tracing up to grace the dragon's smooth scales. "Like sapphires and lapis lazuli..." He knows how much Vergil trembles beneath his touch, feeling it all. "They don't feel cold as your magic is. It's not like the stories and myths say..." The said fairy tales and stories regarding how a dragon can snarl at the touch of a human; a smear of any human blood will not faze them. Nor will the sound of crushing bones as they aren't the best to approach. Is it so bad for Dante to say whoever wrote these stories to say they're wrong? That some dragons aren't so bad? That he could've told his past self that he's a part of those said horrid dragons, but some of them aren't as dangerous as he thought?
"I wonder how I'd actually be if I wasn't so angry that night." Dante mumbles to himself, absently-mindlessly staring at the gem-like scales. He feels how strangely content that side of him feels: a silent yearning to transform, show the other he can retain whatever fueled him before to change with the similar ease as Vergil did. A quiet grunt akin to his name called makes Dante perk up and shiver when Vergil's head leans down, his sharp eyes meeting his, unflinching. He nervously chuckles. "Sorry, I'm just-"
"Dante."
"I... yeah, just to make sure I'm preparing myself for what's going to happen." Will he be tame or present himself as fury-bound still? He feels a nudge and Dante grimaces as he takes a step back, "Yeah, yeah, I know, don't delay it any longer since I'm dawdling. I just-" He deeply sighs before gently swatting the tail that now inches closer up, towards his thigh. "I need room and your tail- does it have a mind of its own or are you trying to find another way to distract me?"
Vergil softly snarls at another swat, his tail carefully retracting away. "A distraction? What makes you think it was intended as such?"
"Well, I can barely feel my blood circulating down there, if you want to know." Dante grunts, taking a few steps back. Is Vergil sulking? What for? At least he can feel his leg again. "Look, I'll try to remember how I felt in that form. If I can do it, great. If I can't, well, I can try again until..." The last time he took form was when Vergil triggered him, but he fueled his anger. He was the one who used something to close that form.
Maybe Vergil knows how to unlock the trigger without having to resort to angering him again.
"Hey, I got an idea." Dante gets his attention before he says, "Rile me up."
Vergil stills, the air too. Then he hears a low, "What."
"Well," Dante gulps. The more he thinks about it, the more this bad feeling crawls slowly back in... hell, even he hears that other side of him err on caution, not sure if this works. But if it's only way to wake that side of me again after being dormant for a few weeks of laying put... "Think about it: you got me to transform and you're the one who reverted me back. You know how you did it so-"
"Are you asking me to reignite your fury?" Vergil snarls back, sounding offended at the idea. "Right when I feel comfort in the way we are now?"
Hmn, Vergil's not wrong when he admits he likes how close they've gotten. "Well, duh." Dante responds. Good Gods, has his older twin always been the over-reactive type? "It's not in the way you're thinking. I'm not asking you to kill me again, which, let's face it, that last time was horrifying-" He winces at the shuddering growl that fills his ears as Dante attempts to continue. "-in that we both nearly exhausted ourselves-"
"What a horrid way to put that night in your words." Vergil's voice makes him tremble a bit, the air surrounding him grown colder.
"It... yeah, okay, it's not." Dante tries to swat Vergil's tail away, but no, it comes back and snakes around his leg. Again. He can feel his eye twitching at this, but all right, fine. He can try to deal with the snake-like appendage. That and how strangely his bite injury pulsates all of the sudden. "What I'm trying to say is maybe you can try to piss me off in a way that doesn't set me off to burn everything on sight?"
Vergil stares at him, a huff of incredulous bafflement escaping through his nostrils. "You mean to ask, Dante mine, is for me to anger you as much as possible in order to make you transform."
"...yes." The tail's not helping. He can feel it coil like before and Dante wants to stamp it out, but no, it's a part of Vergil's body. Kicking it will harm him. "Just, you know, in a milder way to try and build up on-"
"Absolutely not."
Well. That strikes a nerve in Dante's mind as he snaps his head back up Vergil. "Come again?" He asks.
"You heard me, brother mine." Vergil glowers, glaring down at him. "I absolutely refuse to reignite your wrath."
"Oh come on! I know you told me you'll help me get to my form."
"And I will. Yet if it comes down to triggering your anger in another way and another form, I draw the line." Vergil states, his eyes narrowing with his teeth glowering. "Do you still hesitate to transform with that fear in you?"
"Of course I do! I just need another-"
"You can simply letting it unleash as it is. But that is still difficult for you, it looks like. And I heard that inquiry regarding how you are without your anger." Dante blinks, looking up to feel Vergil's head gently press against Dante's chest. The air is still chilly, Dante notes. But Vergil sounds calm. Strangely calm. "If you wouldn't mind, Dante mine, I will like to tell you."
Dante gawks at him, his annoyance slowly fading away. Then he sighs, feeling his shoulders slump from an inward defeat. So much for the 'pester me until I get ticked' method. But well, Dante did want to know how Vergil thought of him that night... besides the obvious. "Ugh. Why not." Dante isn't sure what to expect, but he nods. "Lay it on me, Verge. How horrible of a monster was I? I'll make sure to watch myself next time."
Vergil's chuckle makes his body quake, shivering in the low tremors through his body. "A monster? No, Dante mine, that was not what I saw. How do you still believe to be such?"
Huh? Dante blinks. "I... set the garden on fire. I nearly killed you. I almost left you, even if you deserved it for... what we can both say are to be for valid reasons."
"I won't deny my faults that night." Vergil murmurs. "And your anger... strangely justified. Yet through your anger, I saw a red dragon. One that shines of its brilliance; one who matches well with me despite our physical differences."
Dante feels his face flush, the tips of his ears hot. His heartbeat pulsates, feeling something else him in thrill in Vergil's blatant flattery. There's something roiling in his chest, silently crooning for more and Dante wants to stamp that away in favor of being annoyed. Or pretend to be.
It certainly doesn't help his blood from surging in whatever that picks up all of the sudden.
"Shall I go on?" Dante hears Vergil hum, pleased about... something. "You seem to respond well to my words, mea fiamma."
"Mea- what??" Dante asks, feeling his face hot. He's certain Vergil called him something.
"What you are when I saw you that night. Even if you were roiling in anger... a part of me wanted to compliment you." Vergil continues as his eyes close. "Is it wrong for me to admit how proud I was to see you transform into your draconian form?"
Dante feels his eyes widen before he closes his eyes, attempting to control his heartbeat and how strangely receptive his magic is to this. Yet something in him slowly unfurls, only with a strange tingling of pride and delight contrasting to the anger and silent fury from earlier. You... you actually liked how I was as a dragon? He wants to ask. A roaring, red furious dragon with his sharp black talons against his glowing red scales, outstretched wings with his fire through his blood...
...and Vergil has thought all of that?
Oh Gods-
"I want to see you in that majestic form again." Vergil firmly states. "How I wanted to tell how beautiful you looked."
Dante feels something in him break, but instead of anger, warmth overwhelms him. If the previous feelings that wells up in Dante didn't breach through whatever doubts he has, the mere compliment did it. He allows the feeling to manifest, break through and take over, allowing him to shift. Fire fuels in his blood, coursing through as he feels his body stretch, winding with the draconian magic. Hands stretching, feeling the slight itch that comes from scales while feeling something outstretch from his back. His adrenaline fueling to abstain the pain as he feels the magic surrounding him, capturing the rush of embers and flame with the slivers of ice and ozone from the other dragon.
He feels taller. Larger. Bigger than his normal self. The silence roars in his ears, long after he senses his magic lessen, lowering to a larger body and Dante slowly opens his eyes.
The air smells slightly damp- as if rain threatens to come. It also feels warm, surrounding him at all sides with more skin- no, with his scales. He blinks, hearing his breathing heavier than usual. There's nothing telling his mind to run. Or kill. Or... anything.
Dante attempts to open his mouth, trying to mouth something. But the feeling of something else tickling his chin before his vision snaps forward to see Vergil next to him, eyes dilated with a sharp breath.
How odd... this is what you look like when we're at the same height and level. In our other forms.
"Dante." He hears his twin's voice, clear as day. How foreign... he can still hear Vergil's voice like normal. Another feathering light touch and Dante feels Vergil's tail brushing on his scales. Did his tail finally let go? "You... you've done it."
"I did?" Dante wants to ask if he looks anything like before when he balks, hearing his voice shift. It's lower than his normal, human voice. There's no anger beneath it, no curling snarls of threats and hatred... this is what he sounds like.
His vision is like before when he transformed for the first time: higher, taller. Overwhelmingly large. He slowly takes his new sight and drinks the newfound sight as he turns around. His head curls- oh, wait. His neck's... longer. Much longer. Another scuff and Dante feels his fingers scrape on the citadel roof. No wait, they're his talons, not his hands- his own set of talons. Meaning- he has a snout, enlonged nose and mouth- oh.
Oh Gods. He did it.
It's thrilling, but overwhelming to take all of this in. Some parts are grown, outstretched; he can feel the extra appendages behind him, near his shoulders and Dante manages to test his wings before he laughs in a strange, thrilling delight.
This will get time to get used to.
I did it! Dante wants to cheer with exuberant relief before he yelps, attempting to feel some ground. "Oh man-"
"A bit clumsy, aren't you?" He hears Vergil's chuckle, echoing through. Dante turns, surprised as the dark blue dragon stands on his legs, moving closer to inspect him. "How I want to show your reaction; are you this susceptible to my words to transform like this?"
To- oh. About that. Dante can rag on Vergil about it later. Or whack him for... he swears he feels his chest glow with his embarrassment as he huffs, "You did something, all right."
"And it was successful." Vergil hums. "If my flattery did ignite you to transform, mea flamma."
Those words- seriously, is Vergil aiming to embarrass him today? "S-Shut up! And is that supposed to be an insult? If it is-" His eyes lock on- wait, Vergil has four horns? Two horns curls near his own mouth while two blunt ones are on his head. How is it now that Dante finally notices this?
Do I have the horns too? There's something curling to the back of his head; he wants to feel them, but that's going to make him look ridiculous.
He hears Vergil's series of chortles. "As you were saying, Dante mine?"
"Oh hush, I just finally noticed your horns." Dante grumbles. "I can't believe I changed to this. I fought you like this too. Can I-"
"Move around? Only if you're within these grounds."
Beyond that and he's certain he'll catch some idiot's attention for spotting a red dragon. Well, that Dante can handle fine. "Sure." Dante says before he outstretches his wings. He glances over to see Vergil look at him, observing him before Dante dives down, his wings gliding him as he takes flight.
A small dip down and Dante yelps, attempting to catching himself as he attempts to match to the cooling wind. He shivers, flapping it to balance his wings to the air surrounding him, but he doesn't stop turning. He moves further, trying another lap and this time, he lifts his head, trying to reach a higher level. Another lift and Dante feels his body lifting, strangely light as he lowers his wings a bit, attempting to gain some speed.
I'm flying. Dante tries not to sound giddy, yet here he is, grinning against the skies as he soars up. I'm actually flying!
Another circling lap around and Dante decides to look down, seeing the castle and the land below him before he spies the glinting dark blue dragon patiently waiting for him. The feeling of being observed makes Dante shiver, but this time, he feels delighted about it compared to the previous times he felt this.
It was you watching me all this time, wasn't it, Verge? Dante hums. All this time... I know you had you reasons then. He tries not to chuckle from the strange hindsight that Vergil's eyes were on him for most of the time.
He gently glides down, spreading his wings to help him land on the castle terrace. At first he feels his limbs stumble when it meets the solid floor and Dante grunts. A few more steps and Dante finally feels solid, safe before tucking his wings.
"I actually did it." Dante mumbles, delighted even if he feels a bit light-headed from the adrenaline. "I think I can get used to this!"
"Good." He looks to see Vergil approach him. His deep azure eyes flickers to Dante's left shoulder, spying something before hearing Vergil lowly hum, raising interest from his inspection. "I wonder, do your scars remain on your left palm? I can see the one on your neck and the one on your chest."
"My- wait, you can?" Dante balks, wanting to inspect below his chest to see for himself, but- argh, no, that's going to be impossible. Nope. Not a chance, but if Vergil tells him that the mark is there, then it's present and obvious. He can lift his left arm up to see the scar on his palm, gently pulsing a foreign white glow on its gash. Gripping it doesn't hurt, neither does when he sets his hand down.
But he can definitely feel Vergil's head rub against his neck, teeth barely scraping against his neck that feels strangely like a gentle scrape.
Dante growls, feeling the need to recoil and bite back all of the sudden. Vergil pulls back with a quiet murmur, "Your body still remembers."
"Apparently, from the last time." Dante hisses, not sure if this is from anger at the attempt or rather fond that it's light and that he didn't suddenly feel the urge to tackle Vergil and roar in his face. "Why did you try that just now?"
"To see if you would get used to me in this form like before." Vergil says, facing him. There's an odd shift in his voice as he continues, "Yet it looks like you still fear me when we're this close, unlike our corporal form."
"I..." Dante wants to say he doesn't, but the way he flinched when Vergil tried to neck him. He sighs, feeling strangely frustrated. "...I need to get used to you like this too. Fighting you with the swords are easier than this- hang on. Can we actually duel here without causing damage to this place?"
"There is a good reason why Father chose this place. And you saw the damages done, so what do you think the answer is?"
Oh. "So... can we try it soon?"
"Yes. But not now; your transformation takes priority before you can do anything else."
Ah. Right. Vergil did warn him this will sap up a lot of his strength. Also, he feels that light-headed feeling return; maybe it's a good time to try to revert back without having to shout out a spell. "Then can I-" Dante attempts to ask before he clears his throat. "What the hell, I shouldn't have to ask you if I can change back."
Vergil hums, simply not saying anything else. Instead his eyes stare at him as Dante huffs, closing his eyes to carefully pull himself back. Think about what you look like, how you were before changing into this...
His own hair, his face, his body. Dante knows himself very well, above all else. He feels himself shift, his blood receding back to its normal self before feeling his feet hit the ground and causes him to lightly stumble. Dante yelps, opening his eyes to catch himself before feeling his body, clothes; scars and all. He's back to his normal, human self.
The sudden dizzying hit on his head, on the other hand, isn't.
"Ah shit." Dante hears himself mumble, readying to collapse and fall head first to the ground because Gods, as awesome as it felt to transform like this, he feels drained.
Instead of feeling the hard, cold ground smush his face, he feels something warm catch him. Dante grunts, feeling Vergil's hands wrap around his form. He looks up and sees Vergil's lips twitch to a thin smirk.
"You did well." Vergil says.
"Thanks." Dante says back, surprised that Vergil didn't let him collapse and walk over him. He slowly blinks, feeling his headache abate a bit from the warmth embracing him. "You smell nice."
He feels Vergil still, looking down at him with bafflement as Dante lets out a small squeak, trying not to feel mortification setting in. Now he's certain Vergil will let go of him, forcing him to crawl towards the door on his own with little energy he has-
Only for arms to immediately tighten, accompanied by a low, amused chuckle, "How cruel you are, Dante mine."
"Hm?"
"That you give me a compliment now." Vergil's' arms still holds Dante tight, even as they start to stand. "Yet I'm starting to see why you would feel more comfortable like this."
"Ha? Oh." In the midst of Dante attempting to get used to his clunky draconian form? In what way did Vergil- wait. That light nip on his neck, the way Vergil's head brushes against his neck... and Dante takes it like an attack. Was Vergil trying to-
-oh for fuck's sake.
Dante's breath hitches, his face red as Vergil's faint smile emerges. His free hand immediately latches on his left side of the neck, warily noting it's very close to that bite mark. "...While I trust you like this, it's the other side that needs to do the trusting. Trust, Vergil... getting used to seeing your dragon form more. Remember?"
"I know." Vergil's hand cups Dante's right hand, gently prying it away. "Perhaps I should have been better than to hope that your other form will reciprocate."
"Ah." Dante breathes, trying not to feel bad. This could be Vergil's way of trying to make him feel more comfortable in their draconian form, hoping it will translate the same way. It wouldn't; it's as he said- the body remembers that night. He catches a glimpse of Vergil's expression and he sees how silent his twin is, jaw slightly tightened as he props him up to leave the terrace.
Well. Now Dante feels bad for being a bit brash.
Instead of prying off, Dante instead leans down a bit, his other arm around Vergil's shoulder, causing Vergil to glance at him. "The more we do this together, the more I can get used to your form. ...and the less I believe you to be a threat so I can be okay with... you necking me." He mumbles the last part, silently hoping Vergil wouldn't ask what he means by that-
"I see." Vergil murmurs, sounding mildly surprised before he shifts. Dante wonders if Vergil will go on his threat of shoving Dante off the roof-
-to only yelp when Vergil lifts his legs with one arm, his arm holding Dante's back.
"W-What the hell!? Let me down, damn it!" Dante gawks, only to cease in whatever struggle he was going to give Vergil when he sees his twin looking back at him, mild relief on his face. "Or... no."
"I believe it to be best if I just take care of you due to the amount of strength you exerted throughout most of today." Vergil says. "If I am to ask-"
"Yeah, this means I can handle transforming tomorrow, brother. Don't worry." Dante mutters, waving off the incoming question he knows will pop up. "I don't plan to leave it as a one time occurrence since it's a part of me."
Vergil smirks, "As much of a relief I am to hear of that, that is not what I wanted to ask."
"Ah?" Is it... what Dante wants to avoid explaining about?
Yet the smile grows a bit malicious as Vergil gently asks, "About the necking part you just mentioned-"
"Okay, Gods help me if I tell you how I know about that and the answer is no, someone didn't do it to me. I've read it somewhere in some crappy romantic book or novel I read when I was bored-" Dante babbles, his face red. "It's- What you did earlier reminds me of how some- er, you know the rubbing your scent thing some mammals do for a claim thing-"
"Am I not allowed a claim of my own?"
If Dante didn't feel as limp and exhausted, he would've already attempted to wriggle out of Vergil's arms and dash out. He instead makes a choking sound, wrapping his arms around himself as his face flushes hot and keeps his mouth shut. "I'm not saying anything else about that!"
Is it possible to feel his face grow hot? It might as well; he hears Vergil's laughter and feels it rumble against his body. Dante refuses to look; he doesn't want to admit hearing his twin laugh like this makes him more attractive. Or say it for the matter of retaining whatever pride he has left.
"I already know what you imply. Yet I know myself, Dante mine." Vergil purrs with a strange delight that makes Dante's face darken, his heart skipping a beat. "You have no idea how patient I can be when it comes to certain matters."
"As tempting as it is for me to push whatever that button is, I think I'll shut my trap about it for a good while." Not that Dante needs any more embarrassment as it is.
"On that note, shall I start our spars here after you rest, Dante mine?" Vergil cackles. "Or would you rather like to begin those tomorrow?"
"Tomorrow. I feel a bit wiped. Don't blame me if it ends up like today." Dante mutters, wanting to hide away somewhere out of sheer embarrassment. Yet again, his body's exhausted, silently screaming at him to take a rest from the toll the transformation did to him. And that still doesn't stop Vergil from carrying him.
Ugh. Dante hopes he adapts quickly so he doesn't have to deal with this again.
His twin is currently sleeping at the lounge chair in the study.
They've finished dinner (sharing a couple of platters of cured meats, cheese, with some bread and salad) after Vergil tells what he can confirm from his tutors and Father regarding their draconian line: yes, the dragons were once known as regal classes of their own right. Yes, there are some who hide among the humans while some live pridefully in their own form. No, he has no idea where those dragons are. Only their Father knew. Vergil's contacted some of them- much to his absolute ire since most of their inquiries were ridiculous (sending some translations of work due to some lack of effort from other dragons; finding some trinkets of their land to send as proof just for hoarding reasons, though those requests have died as of recent, thank goodness; some horrid courting requests only for Vergil to shut that idea down with the obvious written response of 'I'm a half-breed, I'm not my father, you absolute fool. Here are other alliances I can recommend on your behalf so leave me alone and never search for me unless you want to face your death') or petty.
And no, much to Vergil's amusement and in an attempt to assuge some of Dante's hilarious thoughts on how dragons supposedly court, dragons don't scent each other. The bite mark and scars on Dante's body, on the other hand, says another story. It was originally not supposed to be a claiming bite. Yet based from the last he's seen of Dante's bite scar- should he say it? How slowly blue the marks are glowing when he thinks of Dante at his finest? Or how they slowly morph to match Vergil's color, blending slowly in Dante's form to mark him as such... is it possible for a scar to change into a different form?
Speaking of, he is in the middle of cutting more of his burdensome work to others who were more than happy to recieve it. A part of him wonders if his Father would know Vergil is purposefully decimating this position, severing his alliances with other hoards of dragons his Father probably were on better terms with than him.
It's simply out of spite. He pauses in his letter to one of the other Dragon Lords, one who suspected his Father was missing for a while, yet doesn't want to investigate as to why. This Lord and Vergil did correspond for a few years; at some point, some marriage idea was popped up, but Vergil immediately shut the idea down with a better, constructive thought that might tie another alliance with that Lord's. Playing diplomat's going nowhere in Vergil's own pursuits. One that he wonders if Dante will be fine with.
Just as long as nobody outside Dante's circle finds this home first.
A few more sentences and Vergil is complete this letter while giving accompanying documents that presents whoever will earn his duties with much details as he can. Then he can send the items off with a spell- something Griffon shouldn't bother delivering due to the heavier load of paper.
"Hey, Master Vergil."
Said man warily glances up from his paperwork and he finds Griffon staring at him, with some tone of glee. "What, Griffon?"
"Does this mean Dante can transform to a dragon now?" The hawk might have a grin on its face and Vergil will still pull the chance to swat his swords on him if he pushes his buttons enough- in the way that successfully irritates him. The way Griffon annoys him differs than how Dante does it.
"With some short-sighted problems that can be easily solved with a few more days." Vergil sighs, setting down his ink pen to let the letter dry. He knows how much energy he used; it recovers quick. If Vergil can recall the training he was forced to endure (sans the spells, he grimly recalls the way Lilith transformed with such restraints) with his 'tutors' and his father as a dragon, the entire ordeal takes days, weeks... no, months to perfect it so it will sap so little of their magic well. "The only thing to see is how much of his energy it will take if he is to start fighting and utilizing spells with it."
Dante, though, managed to adapt learning spells in quick time. He recalled from the first training session that he thought Dante wouldn't have any spells- no, he didn't use any. Not until one of their spars where Dante suddenly summoned his red gems- the 'fire bombs' he jokingly called them, but Vergil wondered if they're manifestations of whatever little ways Dante can use his magic with such limits. Then their bout that night and more of Dante's spells come to light, presenting far more that he's hidden; has Dante adapted this quickly?
I wonder if it extends to your draconian form. A part of him silently envies the way Dante managed to stay coherent without caving to his adrenaline from his second attempt. The same went for flight and him landing; the same with the reversion. But Dante's flinching makes Vergil wonder if his draconian side is still wary of him, cautious that Vergil will do something horrid on him.
Acting on any thoughts of decimating whatever Vergil is slowly building up to what they have now is not worth taking down. All Vergil wants is Dante to stay by his side forever. Is that too much to ask from these Gods and their wily, annoying ways?
"That might explain why Dante looks all pooped." Griffon ruffles his feathers, glancing at Dante, who is softly snoring. "I gotta ask; what happens after he manages to control it all? Do all of the fighting, spell summoning, managing to shift as easily as you can- you know, equalizing up to you?"
Vergil stares up at him, his brows furrowing. Huh. "Are you asking about my plans after?"
"Well, you can call me wrong for all I care, but Dante... well, based on what he's told me about his adventures in the past and how he's going around with his mercenary thing, he isn't the type to stay still in one spot forever."
It does sting Vergil's chest to think about it, but the hawk has a point. There will be a point when Dante will grow bored being cooped in here. Despite their closeness now and what they are doing to repair that gap, Vergil can't stop Dante from leaving the- his home.
...no, it isn't exactly his home; it's the one their Father left for him to take care of. And what, will you cage me here too, Father? Vergil wanted to ask years ago. Even now, a part of him wonders if their Father knew they would reunite. Vergil never stopped looking, even if Dante's memories were locked beneath a magical seal, slashed open with the key Vergil kept on him for years.
"Anything Dante plans to do, I intend to do it with him." Vergil firmly states.
"Ah." Griffon's eyes glance at the places where scrolls and books used to pile up with more papers, neatly stacked and ready to be looked over. "Say, didn't that area used to look-"
"Griffon." Vergil tries not to feel his veins throb. "Are you begging to be stabbed?"
"Well, considering that you nearly did that multiple times after Trish and I met you and told you what we were supposed to do, I think I can sense when you wanna use your floating swords to pin my wings. So no." Griffon glides down to his perch on Vergil's desk. "But no, seriously, are you gonna be less stressed as hell and I stop playing your goddamn carrier pigeon to these dipshits?"
"That is one way to put it." That doesn't stop Vergil from faintly chuckling at hearing Griffon's disdain. "What if I told you it will no longer be a burden to upkeep this apparent useless position my Father forced me in?"
"Then congratufuckinglations! How many death threats did you receive so far?"
Vergil stares at him before he laughs, feeling a strange form of relief lifting from his shoulders. There's one opinion placed out to state that Vergil is also foolish to undo the ties his Father wanted to maintain with his tight, controlling fists. Perhaps he is; perhaps he also knows this old-world method of maintaining a very high position within the draconian world is weary and needs to be managed better by those who know each others' position better. Not a complete stranger who is well-paid just to maintain an iron-clad grip in playing shadow politics. "Plenty. Will you like a peek at some of them?"
"Nope. I think I saw the burning pile of papers in the fireplace from a couple last night along with some... urgh, dare I say it? Someone tried to kill you with a magic bomb that you immediately diffused?"
"That is accurate." Vergil pauses before muttering, "Do not repeat a word of this to Dante."
"Of course not. I mean, I think his dealings with an ugly swamp hag and seeing some uglier shit makes your business pale in comparison."
Vergil hums, going back to the reasons why he's finally breaking the heavy chains on being the Dragon Ambassador as he glances at Dante's sleeping form. "I'm... well aware of that."
"So, Master Vergil, how many more people do you have to tell to give their own businesses to deal with to?"
"A few more that will take more time to give their burdens to." He wonders if he should bring Dante back to his room; the chair isn't going to make him comfortable. But he also can't help but see the slight part of Dante's shirt, leaving some of skin open. Will he be cold like this? Perhaps Vergil should have given him a blanket... gods, Dante is distracting him even when he isn't talking. "Meaning you will continue to be the said 'carrier pigeon' until I am finished."
"Oh great, more delivery bullshit. Yay for me." Griffon deadpans before he glances to see Vergil's line of sight. He makes a hum and Vergil glares down at the bird. He can see the gleam in that damn hawks' eyes. "Well, well, well..."
"Griffon." Vergil snarls, attempting to stamp down the warmth that sudden floods his face at being caught.
"Someone's in deep."
Vergil scoffs, narrowing his eyes before he summons a few of his ethereal swords, earning Griffon's instant squawks.
"I get it! God, someone's touchy about his feelings." And with a grumble, Griffon glances to Dante's sleeping form draped over his chair. "Just so ya know, I know Dante likes the sight of the sun in the mornin' sooooo... after you're done, maybe you should drop him off in his room."
"I believe I am for the night." Vergil snaps his fingers and he sees the light in the office dim. The moonlight pours in, shining through the office as he stands. "The letter, Griffon-"
"Yeah, got it, delivery first thing in the morning with all of the other stuff." Griffon mutters, "Why not use one of those teleportation spells since you're so powerful at spells and everything?"
"A waste of effort for something trivial." Vergil witheringly glares at the bird before walking over to lift Dante up from the chair. Best not to disturb his twin; Dante deserves this rest. "Perhaps you should sleep as well. I'll have you stop by the palace to see Trish's state while you're at it."
Griffon groans, "Fiiiiiine. Though don't be surprised when I tell ya that Trish is looking at the Queen with that look-"
"Griffon." A sword suddenly materializes as Vergil walks out the office, Dante in his arms. "Sleep."
"Got it, boss! Geez, all I'd every want is for you to ask it nicely..." And Griffon flies off to his usual resting place, leaving Vergil to sigh, wearily staring at the direction the sentient familiar went before looking down at Dante's resting form. It's a good walk down to Dante's room and Vergil also wants to rest before picking up where he left off. Considering that daily skirmishes with both swords and draconian forms will be adding on the already list of things, it is perhaps best if Vergil follows their leads and sleep for the night.
I hope... you wouldn't mind for tonight. Vergil silently apologizes as he walks down the hall, towards his room before gently kicking the parted door open. Cool air greets him and Vergil walks towards the bed, gently laying Dante atop the mattress.
Come to think of it, Vergil hasn't stepped foot in his own room for the last few weeks. He's only slept in his office in order to plan things out, how to equally divide Sparda's duties among the allies Vergil only knows through word and ink. The times he's come in his own room is to change his clothes and to wash.
The only other place he has slept in is in Dante's room and that was when Dante was recovering from that night. And Vergil strangely felt comfort after seeing his twin asleep, near him...
Vergil sighs, feeling his breath in quivering shivers before he closes his eyes.
"How horrid is it that I want to be in the same room with you, years later." He mumbles, recalling his initial crows of peace and quiet, not wanting Dante to ruin his books and stain his name all over his toys and favorite reading materials. Yet the feeling is replaced by a vast loneliness, expanding to years when he feels his heart wrench with the lack of warmth next to him. If Dante was awake right now, he would have asked Vergil if he can go back to his own room, leaving Vergil in his. And if he did, Vergil, no doubt being the hypocrite that he is, will follow Dante, resting next to him because he misses it.
It's also odd to feel the coldness of his own room compared to what Dante's looked like: smaller, a bit cramped which is expected for the guests' bedroom. Yet Dante seems to slowly make it his own room.
Like before, when they had their own.
He walks over to the other side of his own bed before pulling the blankets to cover him and Dante's form, silently thankful that they had the hindsight to change into comforter clothing to sleep into. He pauses when Dante moves, turning over before feeling hands grab his shirt.
"Dante?" Vergil asks, mildly surprised before hearing Dante hum in quiet relief, his breath evening once again.
I suppose you wanted me to stay with you too. His battle-born twin, all calm and serene; against the moonlight, his hair glows like a soft halo as some strands drape over his face. Your hair is growing long. Vergil silently muses, gently brushing strands away from his twin's face.
Vergil trails his hand down and faintly notes Dante has indeed shaved whatever incoming stubble that he feared was present. A part of Vergil wanted to tell Dante to keep it as is, but he holds his tongue on how beautiful Dante looks now. His compliments from earlier return and seeing- no, feeling Dante's fire react to Vergil's words makes him thinly smile. His twin does react to flattery; cheap, playful banters are Dante's forte. The genuine, loving ones make Dante fluster, react, and Vergil wants to see more. His devil may care façade is slowly coming down for him only.
Oh how much I'm tempted to keep you like this...
But Vergil knows how full of energy Dante is in the day. And if he's going to be out more, so will Vergil. He'll have to get used to it- no, he has to. All Vergil has to do is to plan things accordingly- delegating his so-called diplomatic tasks to others who are better suited first before he...
...he wonders if traveling with his brother can benefit him in the long run. If he can finally see what Dante sees that lures him out in the world, has dealt with, and possibly, if he can bring those back to make a better home for them here.
That will be later. For now... let me have this. Let me savor this with you, Dante mine.
"Mea pulchra fiamma... Ita te amo. " Vergil softly murmurs, pressing a kiss on Dante's forehead as sleep takes over. This warmth, his brother's heart... it's his. His. He loosely drapes his arm on Dante's waist; the other holding one of Dante's hands.
(Deep in his slumber, Dante faintly smiles.)