Author's Note: A bit later than I intended, but here it is! Next few stories will be pure fluff, with a few requests ^^

Epilogue

It took a month to deal with the remainder of the demon "princes". Ashira joked that they just wanted a glimpse of the elusive Phoenix, but that had only given Vergil a reason to deal with them more quickly. It had then taken five months to locate the displaced reavers who hadn't known of their new haven, and another six months to organize the city and set in place the structure of a productive society.

Their little underground city had become a metropolis that wouldn't be out of place in the human world. Except this one was fueled by hundreds of types of reaver demon magic that Vergil had honestly never considered might exist. Now, Eternum - a name which Ashira and Vergil had "argued" over for at least three months before Pythagoras proclaimed it as such - was everything the reavers here needed, and so much more.

And yet, a day didn't go by that Vergil didn't long to see his family again.

On this particular morning, he had intended on staying in bed as long as possible, even though sleep was fleeting. Ashira had caught up to it, but only barely. It helped that Vergil had spent the last hour absentmindedly drawing circles along her arms for no other reason except that he could and he knew she enjoyed it. It was moments like these during which his mind wandered the most. And he gladly would have let it, were it not for the very obvious thump on their balcony. Ashira twitched, awake as ever, but made no effort to move. So, Vergil, ever the chivalrous gentleman, threw on one of his older jackets, and slipped outside to glare at the new arrival.

"Pythagoras," Vergil said, his tone short.

"Your highness," Pythagoras said with an equally scornful edge. The two had developed something akin to respect for one another. This didn't mean either of them really enjoyed the other's company, however. Vergil had a demon form to rival his father's. Pythagoras had 4000 years of demonic traditions and politics under his belt that Vergil's extensive research couldn't compare to yet. Though, Vergil intended to remedy this gap in knowledge within the next century.

"Why are you here?"

"Christmas is two days away."

Vergil raised an eyebrow. Christmas was not celebrated in the Underworld. At least, not in the traditional, human way. There weren't any real seasons in the Underworld, as the weather depended on their location. The palace was located near the center of the demon realm. This location ensured that Vergil or Ashira could travel to any corner of their kingdom with relative ease. The city itself, however, was in a colder place. Somewhere snow fell nearly every day. While it was harsh and unforgiving (but where in the Underworld wasn't?) it had proven the perfect place to settle in to. This location ensured that those demons who chose to attack the city instead of Vergil directly, either died in the snow or were shot down from miles away.

Besides, the reavers were more than happy to find reasons to celebrate. One of the early ones had been the "Renewal Festival", which consisted of a two-week-long open market of artwork and other goods. The celebration that took place on what they all collectively guessed was Ashira's birthday. They were off by about six months, but Ashira never corrected them. Then there was King's Day which consisted of several festivities, from parades to gladiator-style battles and everything in between. It was one of the few times of the year that he went into the city for an extended period of time, but he kept Ashira close by to introduce him to the people she knew that he didn't. Vergil had even heard of entire boroughs gathering for anything from birthday parties to anniversaries.

Besides, three human Christmases had passed since Vergil had taken the throne, and Pythagoras hadn't mentioned any of them. "Interesting," was all Vergil could think to say.

"I was able to reopen the door to the other side this morning."

That got Vergil's attention. The barrier between the worlds had been restored to the point that even Yamato couldn't cut through it, all before Vergil had woken from his first hour of rest as King. All of Pythagoras' doors had quite literally exploded, and it had taken months for his puppets to clean up the mess. And while Pythagoras claimed that he had plenty to do while "keeping Sparda's-spawn from destroying the place", Vergil knew he had been trying to re-open the doors. The scholar's curiosity could not be sated. But he hadn't heard of any progress.

He swallowed that odd prickle of hope that bloomed in his chest. "And?"

"The kingdom will survive a few days without you."

Again, Vergil tried to let go of his hope. "People will know if we leave."

"And you have given them everything they need to protect themselves," The demon continued. "I, and the rest of your advisors are more than capable of handling anything that might come up." Advisors was a bit of a loose term. All of them had started as reavers Pythagoras trusted, but Vergil had never really known any of them before Pythagoras announced them. There was one in particular, whom he hadn't been too keen on letting in. Morpheus. The elder dream-reaver was more of a royal therapist than an advisor. And his Soulmate, Priscilla, had taken a shine to Ashira, and was essentially her personal aide. For as much as Vergil loved his wife, he was the last person capable of noticing when she hadn't bothered eating in a week. Of course, that meant Priscilla got on to him just as often, since Vergil tended to forget about the same tasks Ashira forgot. For example, he couldn't remember if they had eaten dinner last night. But she was a kind woman at heart, and centuries older than both of them combined. So, at least for now, he let it slide.

"There is something else you want."

"As always," Pythagoras said. "There are more reavers out there, many who left after Mundus died. None of them will be able to cross the barrier, and I cannot track them down myself."

"That would take more than a few days."

Pythagoras glared at him. "Do you not understand the concept of a door, your highness?"

It was Ashira's quiet chuckle that drew his eyes away. She was still in her blue nightgown, but was already braiding her hair back the way she always did at the start of a long day. She'd given up on glasses within a year, something Vergil didn't particularly mind. The ethereal nature of her eyes was always more interesting to look at, in his humble opinion. While she contained her excess energy in the city, she rarely did so in the palace, and certainly not around him. Soft glowing Phoenix eyes had become her trademark among the others that lived with them. "Christmas, huh," she said as she looked up at him with a wide smile on her face. Even so, Vergil didn't miss the hesitation from her soul; a perfect mirror of his own concerns. "We'll have to discuss it."

Pythagoras huffed, more than aware of the subtle dismissal. "You have twenty-four hours," he said as he waddled past them. Vergil might never know why Pythagoras didn't just leave the same way we he had come in. In fact, he wasn't really certain how he had gotten on the balcony in the first place. "Don't discuss it for too long."

The door to their bedroom closed and Ashira let out a tired sigh. "I know demons aren't accustomed to the idea of sleep, but you'd think he'd respect our quiet time at the very least"

Vergil scoffed. "Impossible." She giggled as her arms wrapped around his waist, close enough that he kissed her forehead. Things had changed between them over the last few years. Or, more accurately, things had changed within Vergil after he'd first sat on that throne. Disregarding Ashira's title as "his queen" (which had clearly changed his demon's opinion of her), he'd felt… different around her. Early on, he hadn't understood why. He had observed the subtle shifts in how they behaved around each other. It took much less effort for him to be open with her and he'd often felt determined to seek her out, especially after spending hours dealing with everyone else in their growing empire. This was good for both of them. Dealing with their subjects was very taxing, and they often sought time alone together to decompress.

He used to have to remind himself on a semi-regular basis to be affectionate. Now it just came naturally, sometimes without him even noticing. And he found he didn't mind it. Although, there were times when he was caught staring at her when he really should have been doing something else.

But he'd caught her staring at him just as often. And he was more than aware of the unspoken competition between them. An odd battle of wills driven by a desire to just be together when thousands of other people demanded their attention on a daily basis. Unfortunately (or maybe fortunately?) for Vergil, Ashira was quite good at these "secret touches", usually along his back or shoulders that were so light he wouldn't notice until seconds after she had already moved on. Once, she had even managed to kiss him in front of an entire crowd of advisors and other workers, and not a single person had noticed. It was as if she had been nothing more than a spirit in the wind. Meanwhile, if Vergil even thought about something similar, someone- usually Pythagoras who would happily pop out of the damn walls if there was an opportunity to mock Vergil- always caught him. And, as much as he disliked admitting it, Ashira was currently up two points, and had been so for at least a week.

He didn't mind, though. Their relationship had evolved into something akin to young love. A welcome, steady passion that had been reignited by what they had gone through, and rekindled by everything they were dealing with now, together.

Eventually, Vergil had figured out that he simply cherished her more than he had before. In hindsight, the temporary detachment from his demon, and the real fear that he might never get it back, had refocused him on what mattered most. It had been as a result of his decisions that he had ended up on the throne. But it was thanks to her constant and steady presence that it was tolerable.

It helped that their more subtle strengths complimented each other. He could deal with the stress of advisors (as stress wasn't something he rarely felt anymore) and any demon issues that the town's guard couldn't handle. She went to the people themselves, and had spent countless hours and days rebuilding trust in the Phoenix. Vergil knew that hadn't been an easy task. Most of the reavers her were either children raised on fairy tales of a Phoenix they had never met, or centuries older who had been abandoned by her father. But she had proven herself capable, and most of them respected Sparda, so they'd gained the people's respect together, allowing her to spend more time on long-lasting projects, while he dealt with the issues of the moment.

Years ago, Dante had said Vergil and Ashira would be "an unstoppable force of nature if you really wanted to be". And, as much as Vergil disliked when his brother was right, a part of him wished Dante were here to see it.

A gentle press of her fingers on his drew him out of his thoughts. He let his tail unfurl from nothing, and wrapped it around her waist to pull her against him. She giggled as she ran her fingers along its scales. That elicited a shiver from him, as it usually did, but he tried to hide it by kissing her instead. Her smile against his lips told him he was unsuccessful. "We should go," she whispered.

He wanted to. She knew that. But they had both moved beyond those kind of selfish instincts. The thoughts were always there, but neither has felt they could listen to them. Granted, they'd never had a reason to think they could, but Pythagoras' new finding didn't change the responsibilities they had now.

"I miss them," he said honestly. She knew that too, as both of them had reminisced about Nero, Kyrie, Nico, and the grandkids (especially the grandkids) often. Sometimes, even Dante would pop up in conversation, though neither worried about him. With three women there to keep him in check (assuming Lucia had stuck around), he might even be paying the bills.

But Nero…

Vergil had never been able to quite escape that feeling that he had failed him. He had promised to never come back here. Promised to never leave them behind. And he had done both things without as much as a goodbye. And that… that was his biggest regret.

"Saina," Ashira said with a gentle brush on his palm. He blinked, and his eyes refocused on hers. "We should go," she repeated. "We'll both regret it if we don't."

After a moment, he nodded. "I'll let the others know."

"We could ask your brother to help with the reaver search," She said in genuine thought. "I doubt he's kept the apartment that long."

"One thing at a time," Vergil said.

"Family first," She agreed as she gracefully slipped away from his tail, which disappeared the second she did. "I will be in the garden,"

"Do you want me to meet you there?"

There was a hint of hesitation before she nodded. "It would help, yes. I..."

For a moment, he thought she would leave that thought hanging and walk away. But then she spun around and kissed him again like a woman possessed. And he, likely possessed by whatever she was, lifted her into his arms and barely managed to kick the door closed on his way back inside.

It had been three years since Ashira had used Azalea, and about as long since she'd held it. Pythagoras, at her request, had taken it after she and Vergil had a chance to rest. Weeks later, she'd learned the demon had encased it in an unassuming, steel building on the palace grounds. And she had expected to move past it, or forget about it entirely. She had fulfilled Lir's wish, after all. But, as willing as she had been to forgive him, using Azalea never felt right. Maybe it was the idea that it held just as much death within as it did life. Maybe it was the thought that she couldn't trust anyone else but Vergil and herself with it.

Or maybe she hadn't forgiven Lir at all.

But when the flowers started blooming just weeks after stowing it away, Ashira knew she could never forget. Now, the garden was a massive place filled with vines of all colors, flowers from both worlds, and impossible trees from all realms of the Underworld in one place. A few reavers had built structures within, such as ponds, bridges, and benches, but it was all to hide the source inside. As much as she wanted to forget, Azalea did not belong here. But she didn't know where else to take it, nor could she find the courage to destroy it herself.

After sending both Shadow and Griffon away to scare off anyone that may have followed, Ashira slipped through a set of bushes and emerged in a new clearing. The structure was nearly encased by vines. But they retreated as she approached. A simple feather symbol later, and a hidden door popped open. But when the staff itself came into view, Ashira hesitated. She had often wondered what would happen if she removed it, though Pythagoras had assured her that the plants would remain. The Azalea had merely provided the soil with the incentive to grow, and it had responded in the same, unpredictable way that most things in the Underworld did.

Sometimes, she wondered if Lir's soul had survived the transfer in some capacity. Not enough to be aware of it. At least, she hoped not, or he'd likely be driven to madness after so long in the dark. But enough that the childlike wonder he had lost, and the dreams he had once possessed, had manifested in the life that was now all around her. Was it fair to take it away from that? Or was this simply her guilt manifesting into numerous questions that had no real answers?

Vergil's voice echoed in her mind as his arms slid gently around her stomach. "What troubles you, beloved?" His lips brushed gently along her ear, fully aware that he was asking something he already knew. But the idea of 'clarifying questions' was a silent agreement they had come to over the years. Their thoughts flowed so freely back and forth now it was sometimes difficult to separate conscious conversation from wandering nonsense.

"That was quick," she murmured as she leaned back against him, eyes locked on Azalea. He said nothing, though a couple of mental images of Pythagoras barking orders to random reavers was all she needed to know about that. "I should've destroyed it." She mumbled half-heartedly.

"If you were capable of doing that," He said. "You would have done so already."

She sighed. "That would have been the logical thing to do."

"Are you certain of that?"

"Can't let anyone else have it," she said as she gently pulled away from him, but not before squeezing his fingers as a quiet thank you. She reached for Azalea, and it came to life in her hand. The petals bloomed in all directions, as bright as it had been years ago. She kept her fire away from it this time, content to watch its own power move along it. "But I… I don't want to use it either." It vanished from her hand, clicking somewhere in the back of her mind as she turned to him. "What's the point of keeping it?"

"There doesn't have to be a point," He said gently. "At least, not one that makes sense to everyone else."

"Then why…"

"It doesn't matter whose soul was used to make it," He said as he brushed a strand of hair behind her ear. "The idea that you needed a sacrifice in the first place is what bothers you." Her gaze fell for a moment, but he continued. "Every life matters to you. They always have, and I'm certain they always will."

"That doesn't tell me what to do with it," she muttered.

"Maybe it is better in someone else's hands," Vergil said. "Someone who understands what was lost to make it." He took her hand and lifted it close to his lips, but waiting. Her cheeks flushed as she looked up, and she felt him smirk before he gently - too gently, in her humble opinion - kissed the back of her hand. "It's time we go."

She smiled, weary but excited. "It'll be nice to be human for a little while,"

Vergil sighed, but it wasn't in disagreement. "Nero won't be happy."

Ashira hummed in thought. "What's the worst that could happen?"

A well-aimed punch to Vergil's jaw answered that question.

"I deserved that," He muttered as he pushed himself upright with a shake of his head. The sheer amount of rage in Nero's strike, however, was quickly offset by the relief in his eyes. "About time you fucking asshole!" Nero shouted. Then Vergil was ripped back to his feet and into a four-armed hug that would have given anyone else whiplash. He'd settle for a temporary headache.

"Nero," He said.

His son tore away before he finished that sentence, dragging Vergil along with him into the house. Ashira stayed close behind with an infuriating goofy grin on her face. But Vergil didn't have time to even pretend to be upset about it, as the second they entered the house, a chorus of gasps brought all conversation inside to a screeching halt. And for the second time in the last ten minutes, Vergil found himself back on the floor with four of his five grandchildren piled on top of him shouting various cries of happiness. Vergil didn't even try getting up from that one. He did, however, glare in Ashira's direction when he heard her laughter somewhere over the chaos. "A little… help?" He said through gritted teeth.

"But we missed you so much, Virge!" Dante said with a wide grin as he squeezed Vergil's shoulders so tightly together that he thought they might snap. Except Vergil hadn't even noticed his brother drop to the floor beside him, and was even more confused when he realized the children had actually piled onto them both. Finally, Vergil just sighed and kept his eyes locked on the ceiling. They couldn't hold him forever.

Most of them couldn't, at least. Dante seemed to at least be considering it.

"Alright," Kyrie said from somewhere he couldn't see. "Aren't you all a little old for this?"

Angelica, who had been the first one in the dogpile, sighed dramatically. Except she was four years older and significantly taller than last time. "I didn't think he'd just… fall over like that." Vergil fought the urge to roll his eyes as she hopped up, dragging one of the human siblings along with her. Kai was already gone (had he even joined the pile to begin with?) and was hugging Ashira in the hallway instead.

Dante's laugh brought him back. "You've been out here for all of five minutes and you're already back to staring at her?"

Vergil glared at him. "Better than the alternative."

His brother grinned as he hopped to his feet before dragging Vergil to his. "It's okay, Verge. I know you missed me, and that's all that matters." Vergil held back a retort, as his brother wasn't exactly wrong. But four years was not enough time to stop Vergil's stubborn ego from admitting it. Besides, that knowing look on Dante's face as he practically waltzed back to his seat and kissed Lucia with a reckless abandon that startled even her, was more than enough.

"Vergil," Ashira said. He was by her side before the next sentence, and their grandson's face went from lightly tinted to a deep shade of crimson. "It's alright," Ashira said as she squeezed Kai's hands. He too had grown significantly since the last time they had seen him. Despite only being twelve, he looked closer to 15. But unlike Angelica, whose hair had continued to grow and was only contained by a large and likely permanent pony-tail, Kai kept himself trimmed and even spiked it. Not quite like Vergil, but nowhere near Nero either. Aside from that, though, he looked like what Vergil expected a younger Nero to, except Kai was wearing a suit, and Vergil doubted Nero willingly did the same at that age. "Tell him what you told me?"

If it were possible, Kai's cheeks darkened. "Iris…"

The girl practically appeared beside him. "Yes, Kai?" She said with a grin. Then, her eyes met Ashira's and widened a bit as they jumped back and forth between them. "It is you!" Iris said, her eyes shimmering with excitement. She too had grown, and was even a few inches taller than Kai. Her hair was cropped short and had been dyed red somewhat recently. It was then that he noticed that her purple dress matched Kai's tie, and it all started to click.

"This is… Iris is…"

Iris looped her arm through his with an excited smile. "Do you want me to tell 'em?"

He shook his head. "Iris is my soulmate." He said, though it poured out in a rush and he gasped for air shortly after. Vergil glanced back at Ashira who was beaming from ear to ear. He heard a quiet apology between them, followed by something akin to I honestly hadn't thought about it, and he let it go with a shake of his head.

"And Mrs. Lucia has been taking good care of me," Iris said.

"Hey!" Dante yelled from across the room. "What about me?"

Iris rolled her eyes. "He tries." She said. Vergil heard Dante grumble as Iris lowered her voice "It's Ms. Lucia that makes sure all the bills are paid."

Vergil forced back a laugh. That became much easier to do when he felt Ashira's soul tug at him. "Iris," She said gently. The girl's head tilted, but she said nothing. "I have something I want to give you but…" She peered back at the rest of the group before shifting further into the hallway. Vergil leaned against the entrance, blocking whatever view was left. Kai glanced between them, nervous, but stayed by Iris' side.

After a gentle flash of green light, the Azalea appeared. Iris's breath caught as she stared at it. She almost reached for it, but caught herself. "Lir," she whispered.

"This…" Ashira paused. "He helped me, but I do not believe he was meant to be with me much longer." She held the staff out to Iris. "I've contemplated for many years what I should do with it, but now I think I understand."

Tears welled in Iris' eyes, but Vergil didn't think they were necessarily unhappy. Some sadness, as was expected for the situation, but something more he couldn't quite place. "I knew what he could do," She said. "But I never wanted it myself. I never wanted to hurt anybody."

"That's why you're the best person for it," Ashira said. "But I know what I am asking of you."

Iris's hand wrapped around the middle. "I want it," She said. "Then he'll be protecting me, just like he always wanted to."

Ashira smiled as she let go. The blooms burst to life. This time, however, the gold shifted to a dark pink mixed with purples and greens. The fake leaves along the top flower turned to metallic, purple feathers, and more wrapped around the shaft. Vergil swore he saw a flicker of purple fire, but he couldn't be certain. Less than a minute later, the energy receded into Iiris herself, and the staff vanished. "Thank you," She said.

"You can hug them, you know," Kai said with a shy smile. "They won't mind."

"Only if you do too."

It was Ashira who pulled them both in, leaning on Vergil so he was at least partially involved. But, as most things in his family went, the awkward four-way hug soon turned into a 12-way mob all crammed in the hallway. "I feel there are much better ways to do this," Vergil said.

Ashira's laugh echoed in his head as an argument started between the others on what he could have possibly meant by that. "Did you expect anything else?"

No, he hadn't, nor did he want anything else. The unexpected chaos of his family was a comfort. They had survived without him but still welcomed both him and Ashira home with open arms. And, even as the silly argument turned into an all-out brawl in the front yard, Vergil was content knowing that that, at the very least, would never change.