Summary: Some weird idea I got a few nights ago, spawned in the depths of my twisted little mind. A woman from the Baldur's Gate games, one of my own characters, has to enlist Dante and Vergil to help her stop her own great-granddaughter from releasing the sealed power and essences of her father, the god of murder Bhaal, with the aid of the demons of their world.
Disclaimer: I don't own Dante and Vergil. Capcom does. I know the twins, but I can't claim ownership. Nor do I own the Forgotten Realms; that belongs to Wizards of the Coast, and the Baldur's Gate games are their joint property with TSR. Natasha and Laraedina, however, are totally mine. A lot of the other characters mentioned herein are also mine. No taking, or Ebony and Ivory will do the talking. You have been warned.
Chapter Rating: T with M overtones.
True Feelings
They lay together on the bed, the woman enfolding the man in her arms. His muscular body was heavy on her slender form, but she didn't mind. As long as she felt his weight, she didn't have to keep her barriers in place around her soul.
She didn't have to be alone.
The early sunlight streamed over their bodies, bringing out the blue highlights in her midnight tresses. He ran his fingers through them again and again, almost as if he didn't believe her to be real. Her hands stroked across his naked back, combed through his snowy hair with the same reverence and care he displayed with her.
His head was pillowed upon her breasts, and both were loathe to relinquish that intimate position. Neither wanted to end this brief respite, this moment of perfect peace.
It might be the last they would know together.
"I tried so hard." He finally broke the silence. He had to tell her this, no matter the consequences to himself. "I tried so hard, not to fall in love with you."
"I did much the same," she replied softly. Eye contact had yet to be made; his cerulean orbs staring at the wall, her gold-flecked green ones watching the ceiling. "I didn't want to hurt you, when at last I realized the truth."
"Our hearts are not so invulnerable as we had thought." He raised his head and traced his fingertips down the side of her face, bringing her gaze to him. "Pain is unavoidable now."
"Because love just isn't enough. I do not belong in your world, and you cannot make a home on mine." She slid herself further down beneath his body, bringing them face-to-face. "We both knew this to be a temporary arrangement, something that couldn't possibly last."
"But some things are beyond our control." He dropped his head onto her shoulder, pressed a kiss to her neck. "I almost wish we had never done this. But I do not regret loving you. How could I not, when you are everything I had ever dreamed of in my youth?"
"You sound like some smitten boy-child." She smiled, and turned her head to kiss him softly. "I do not regret this either. There have been so many others in my life, but none of them has touched my heart as you have. Not even…You know."
"I know." He ran a hand down her side, so gentle, sending a shiver throughout her body. The names of past lovers were not welcome in this moment.
"There is still time. Time to back out, to end this." She softly bit his shoulder, wringing a shudder from the man atop her. He enjoyed a little pain with his pleasure, much as she did.
"Our hearts are already involved. This relationship will end, but only when we must separate." He looked into her eyes, saw the fires of her soul responding to his. "Might as well take advantage of the time we have left." His lips, his tongue met her own, and suddenly she was digging her nails into his back, desperate need enfolding her in its fiery grasp.
"Aye, Vergil! Whatever you want, but let's continue this discussion at a later time!"
He mentally patted himself on the back, wrapped his arms about the woman once more. "As my lady wishes."
Dante loved this world.
Beer was pretty much all there was to drink, the women were willing, and real estate had to be dirt-cheap.
And with this many monsters around, he would be able to make a fortune before his twenty-fifth birthday.
He blew some gun-smoke from Ebony's barrel, looking over the over-sized, yellow-skinned corpses sprawled around him with a critical eye. Ugly bastards. Is this the best Faerun can offer?
He had gone outside town, his city-token in his pocket, to take a look around, since Vergil and Natasha still hadn't come downstairs yet. He had come upon a small farm under attack by these monsters, and figured that he could use some exercise.
A single bullet to the head had been more than enough to take them down.
The eldest man of the house, a human dressed in simple homespun clothing, came tentatively out of the house to greet him, his curious wife and children looking on from the safety of the windows. "Well met to ya, mister. Thank ya for takin' care of them ogres. We were ready to give our souls to Lathander 'afore ya came along."
Dante twirled his guns and re-holstered them. "No problem, man."
"Nice weapons ya got there. Gnomes make 'em for ya?" the farmer asked, trying to get a better look at Ebony and Ivory.
Dante moved subtly to deny him that opportunity. "Made 'em myself. They ain't for sale."
"Heh, right fancy, they are." The farmer held out a hand, offering the devil hunter a handful of gold coins. "Here's payment for savin' our lives. Don't spend it all in one place, ya hear?"
Dante took the coins, examined them closely. "Thanks. I won't."
Waving to the kids and woman watching from the house, he turned back to Beregost with a wide smile on his face. He could afford his own drinks now!
But his hopes were dashed when he saw Natasha and Vergil waiting outside the inn for him.
"Where have you been?" Vergil asked, his fingers stroking over Yamato's hilt with deadly intent.
"Took a walk. Killed ogres. Got paid."
Natasha shook her head and grabbed Vergil's arm, stopping him from unsheathing his katana and impaling his younger twin once more. "You should stay with us, Dante. Faerun is a lot more dangerous than you could possibly imagine, even to a man of your talents and skills."
"They weren't so tough." Dante offered his brother a placating grin, hoping he wasn't going to have a sharp piece of metal rammed through his shoulder again. That hurt!
Natasha snorted, and stood up from the inn's front stairs. "C'mon. We have to pick up on Laraedina's trail. You'll see what I mean about Faerun's monsters sooner or later; I can practically guarantee it."
Vergil gave his brother a murderous look as he followed the elf-woman. Dante shrugged innocently, and trailed after his brother with a longing look at the bar, clearly visible through the windows.
"Surrender all yer money and yer goods, or fall where ya stand!"
The shout broke the reverie the companions had been traveling in as effectively as a hammer. All three warriors cursed themselves for letting down their guard as they moved immediately into a defensive triangle, each watching a different direction with weapons out.
"Show yourselves, cowards!" Natasha challenged, spellfire sparking from her left hand as she held Foebane ready in her right.
"I don't think so, missy. We have you firmly in our sights, so if you don't drop your weapons, we'll riddle you full of arrows!" This voice was smoother, more cultured. Probably a noble brat taking up banditry for a lark. Won't be the first time I've seen it, Natasha thought. "That would be a real shame for you, missy. We have plans for pretty women like you."
Natasha smirked. "They've got us surrounded, up in the trees. Force them out, if you can," she whispered to the men at her flanks.
Vergil nodded, and fell into a crouch, dark, purplish energy crackling around his hand and katana. Dante twirled Ebony and Ivory, cocked them directly at the leaves. Red electricity enveloped the guns in a slow rush.
The energy, arcane and innate, was released at the same moment, as if by silent agreement. Natasha hurled a fireball at the trees before her, the blast rocking the ground beneath their feet and throwing bandits from their cover, smoking or enveloped in biting flames. Vergil flicked his hand out once, twice, three times, enormous globes of dark energy slashing into the leaves and through the hidden bandits like a knife through hot butter. Bullets in bolts of red power tore through their targets, and screams of agony accompanied the bandits as they toppled from their perches, clutching wounds cauterized by the same pieces of metal that had pierced their flesh.
All three of them had decimated the bandits' ranks to a mere five survivors within the span of six heartbeats.
Natasha went to one of the survivors, a half-elf with long brown hair and a stylish mustache. He had been one of her victims, and he bit back a scream of pain as she knelt over him, jerked him up so she could look into his eyes.
"Foolish," she hissed. "Obviously, banditry is not for you. If you survive the night, go into town and find yourself a decent way of life. I'm sure that option is better than letting me or my companions end your misery, is it not?"
She didn't wait for his answer, dropping him back to the dirt with barely a glance of concern. Natasha hated causing pain to those who didn't deserve it, but if one was foolish to piss her off, she would fight with all she had and more. Pity poor souls like this who thought to harm those she cared about. This was more mercy than she typically showed them.
Walking away, she didn't notice the bandit reach a shaking hand into his pocket, pulling something out and aiming it at her with shaking fingers.
She cried out as something hit her leg, bit into the flesh with more agony than a hornet's sting. A wave of sickness followed, and she realized that she had been poisoned. Her fingers only just got the bag of holding open before she collapsed to the ground.
Dante was at her side a moment later, followed closely by Vergil. They saw the tiny bolt stuck in her leg, and realized immediately what had happened. She rolled her head to look at them.
"Antidote…bag…." she managed to get out from between chattering teeth.
"Poison antidote!" Dante reached into the bag and pulled out a bottle that sloshed with green liquid. Pulling the cork out with his teeth, he held the bottle to her lips, helped her drink it. Her body arched violently, hands scrambling at the dirt, and then she went limp as a rag doll, totally boneless across his legs. "Did it work?"
"Aye," she whispered. "Just need….moment…rest…"
"Okay. Five minutes' break." He looked to his twin. "Vergil, what are you doing?"
Vergil was stalking across the clearing towards the bandit, his fingers clenched tightly around Yamato. Dante could feel the murderous intent his brother's eyes contained; he shrugged and pulled the offending missile from his patient's leg. If Vergil wanted to kill the bandit, then it was better to let him rather than stop him and get impaled again.
The world seemed to narrow down to the bandit, frantically working to reload his pathetically tiny crossbow, his eyes wide with terror at the blue apparition that had its gaze pinned firmly on him. Vergil saw nothing else, didn't care about anything else, in that moment. This man had nearly killed Natasha, almost torn her away from him with a single poisoned crossbow bolt.
For that he would suffer a slow, painful death.
The bandit managed to reload the crossbow and fired it at Vergil, certain that he would be brought down by the potent poison coating the tip. Vergil merely looked down at the tiny bolt lodged in his collarbone and pulled it out, savoring the look of horror and absolute terror in the man's eyes as he flexed the muscles around the wound, squeezing the poison out of his system in a slow black river. Any poison that he didn't get out himself would be utterly destroyed by the natural antitoxins in his blood; this little wound was nothing more than an inconvenience to one such as he. He kept his eyes on the bandits', making totally sure that the man could see his death in the blue mirrors.
He unsheathed Yamato, still holding the man's gaze in his own.
A tiny slash across the man's middle, and blood began oozing out in a slow red trail. The bandit couldn't understand why he had been spared with such a minor wound…
Until he realized that Vergil wasn't done yet.
"Brother, get her out of here," the half-demon called. "I have…business…with our friend here."
Dante nodded, and gathered Natasha up in his arms, continuing along the road they had been traveling before the bandits had assaulted them.
Behind them, Vergil grinned cruelly at the doomed man. One of the little tortures he had read about in a book about the Spanish Inquisition was called "Death of a Thousand Cuts."
And he intended to test it out on this foolish human as punishment for nearly killing the woman he loved.
Natasha came to several miles later, still carried in Dante's arms. Her body hurt, but it was no longer the kind of pain that had come from the poison. This was a cleansing sort of agony, the kind that said her ordeal was almost over, and soon she would be back to normal. She looked up at her carrier, and wondered where they were.
"Where…How long…"
"Seven miles north, and one mile west," Dante answered. "We should be at the village in an hour or so. You've been out of it for about three hours now."
"Damn, that was a potent poison." She put a hand to her head, looped the other around his neck to better support herself. "Thanks for getting the antidote so fast."
"Not a problem. You're the only one who can get us home from here."
"Yeah, I know." She looked around, expecting to see another man with white hair. "Where's Vergil?"
"He had some business to take care of. He'll be joining us soon enough; don't worry about him."
"What kind of business?"
"Disposing of the bodies. Like I said, he knows where we're going. He'll catch up to us sooner or later." Dante jumped over a tree that had fallen over the path effortlessly, as if her added weight didn't inconvenience him in the slightest. "Just rest, okay Natasha? You still look a little too pale."
"Wake me up when we get there." She rested her head against his shoulder, glad that she hadn't been alone when she'd been hit. She couldn't allow herself to die until her mission was completed. Nor could she abandon them like that. Until Laraedina was dead, and the twins were back in their own world with the portal closed behind them, she had to live.
She had to.
Vergil looked at the pathetic remains of the bandit with a satisfied eye. He had been extremely thorough in his execution of the Death of a Thousand Cuts; there was no space on the man's body that didn't have a tiny cut dividing the flesh. He had bled out only recently, and now the half-demon was free to go. His vengeance was complete.
He stood up and looked around. Any surviving bandits had long since crawled away, and the rest lay where they had perished. He had been apart from his companions for several hours now, three if he read the position of the sun correctly. It was time he rejoined them.
Orienting himself north, Vergil reached into the depths of his memories, allowing visions of bloodshed and battle to fill his mind, overwhelm his senses. He recalled the taste of freshly-spilled blood, the smell of it, the feel of it when there was so much sprayed across his body, his hands, that Yamato's hilt grew slick with it and the precious fluids of life were flung everywhere with each slice. When he felt as if he were drowning in blood and violence, he called to the demon within, beckoning it to come forth and take over his body for a brief amount of time.
The transformation worked just as well on this world as it had back home; the energy overwhelmed him, changed him, and in moments a tall demon of blue, silver, and black stood where before there had been a man. Catching the scent of his brother and woman on the wind, he spread his wings and took off, rocketing across the sky faster than any falcon could dream of matching.
In minutes, he caught up to them. Natasha was coming to just as he landed, transforming back into his human form too late to prevent her from seeing his demonic body.
He was suddenly terrified. Would she turn away from him in terror, in revulsion, now that she knew what lurked beneath the surface of his cool, handsome exterior?
She smiled tiredly at him. "You looked better than the Slayer ever did."
Queen: What, did you honestly think that their demons would terrify her after she'd turned into something far worse? Believe me, the Slayer is a lot more horrific than Dante and Vergil's demonic forms. At least they are aesthetically pleasing to look at. The Slayer is just plain ugly, and totally insane.
Vergil: Funny, I always thought that's how Dante's looked.
Dante: Ha ha. Very funny, bro.
Vergil: Shall we ask Queen?
Dante: Didn't we just hear her opinion on the matter?
Vergil: How about it, Queen? Will you tell us who's devil is the better looking?
Queen (muttering): Good God, not another pissing contest…
Dante: What was that?
Queen (clears throat): Nothing. Fine, if you two must, let me see them. Lord knows I've seen them enough times as it is, but fine. Trigger if you must.
(simultaneous flash of blue and red energy. Queen circles the two demons, examining them thoroughly, as if judging a dog show. She hmms and haws, extends wings to check the span, holds out arms, measures muscles, etc. Finally she steps back)
Queen: You may release the triggers now.
(energy flashes again. Vergil and Dante collapse onto couches, sweating from holding the triggers so long)
Vergil: So what is your decision?
Dante: And what does the winner get?
Queen: Well, the winner gets a kiss.
Dante: Which means that I won, right?
Queen: Not exactly…
Dante (jackknifes up from the couch): You gotta be kidding me! If he wins, he gets a kiss from you
Queen: Unless you want to kiss him…
(seriously disgusted faces. Queen laughs)
Queen: Okay, fine. I'll be the one doing the kissing. As for the winner, it was a close decision. Dante, you have the bigger muscles and better horns, and besides, I like the fangs. Vergil, on the other hand, has a better wingspan and less typical color-scheme. Blue and silver just work better together than red and silver. Gotta admit, his devil-form has a sexier voice too.
Dante: Now wait just a damned minute…
Vergil: You're throwing us bones here, Queen. Who's the better-looking devil?
Queen: There was only one factor that set the two of you apart.
Vergil: And that was…
Queen: Claw-length.
Both twins together: What???
Queen: That was the only thing that set you apart, for the most part. And in that arena, Vergil won.
Vergil: Four to three. Which makes me the winner, correct?
Queen: Yep.
Dante: No! No fucking way! Queen, you can't kiss him! He's my twin brother for Christ's sake! And you're my girlfriend!
Vergil: I don't see a wedding band on her finger, brother. So technically, although she is sleeping with you, she's still on the proverbial market. So she can spare me a kiss, isn't that right, Queen?
Queen: That is correct, Vergil.
(gets up from computer, goes to Vergil. Straddles his lap)
Dante: Queen, c'mon. You can't do this.
Queen: He did win, Dante. Gotta give the winner his prize. And besides, I've been wanting to do this for a good long while now. Just to see if you two kiss differently, you see.
(transmission shows everything. Queen and Vergil kissing, Dante watching with mouth opened like a fish's. After a few minutes, Queen gets up and returns to the computer, licking her lips like a satisfied cat)
Queen: Must admit, he's got good form. Good technique, but it's still missing something…
Dante (sulking): And that something is…
Queen: You.
(launches herself across the room to Dante, now kissing him like a wild animal)
Queen: Hands down, you win in this arena. But it was pretty damned close.
Vergil: Thank you so much, Queen.
(he gets up and goes to the computer, blocking out the sight of Queen and Dante making out on the couch behind him)
Vergil: Review please, as always. Now, I believe I shall leave the house for a while, before things get too out of hand. And I think I shall end this day's transmission now, as well…
(flicks monitor off, turns off sound. Readers are left with a blank screen and many questions)