Title: Web of Lies
Characters: Sparda, Nevan
Word Count: 2.265
Summary: Nevan sees that the noble Dark Knight Sparda can be like all other deceitful demons, after all.
Warnings: Slight Sparda/Nevan if you believe they actually had something going on.
Disclaimer: Devil May Cry and all related characters belong to Capcom.

"Oh what a tangled web we weave, when first we practice to deceive."
Sir Walter Scott.

From his perch on the balcony, Sparda could see the vast expanse below him. The realm of demons opened before him with a seemingly limitless appearance. The castle mirrored one situated somewhere in the human world, which was still under the control of demons. A dark, thriving forest surrounded it from all sides, ending at the massive rock the castle was built upon, that rose over the hallow forest like an island. As far as his eye could see, there was nothing but the Underworld, nothing but a brilliant and riveting red sky. Everything was perfectly still; void of any kind of life other than an occasional demon messenger flying by. Behind him, the windows, narrow and tall with gilded, sleek metal bars over their crystal panes, reflected the vast expanse.

Then someone knocked on the heavy wooden doors of his room, the sound resonating down the hall along the walls. It jerked Sparda out of his sightless, skyward gaze as he stood at the balcony of the lavish room that was his personal quarters, where no other demon was allowed to enter on whim. Most demons knew that he might fly into a rage if they just barged in...And the last thing any demon wanted these days was to make the Dark Knight angry.

He sighed, lowering his gaze from the blood red skies in the distance, warped like a vortex of eternal fire, to his hands on the banister. He knew who it was and he had no way or excuse to avoid her. He did not respond right away, hesitant to confront her, but after a moment he finally he turned his head to the side and eyed the door.

"Come in," he said calmly.

Sparda's thoughts and feelings for his birthplace and all the creatures connected to him had tired him out. He felt torn now; the more time he spent in the human world, the more his mind was tormented with thoughts and opinions he never thought he would have. He had spent many a sleepless night contemplating these thoughts without being able to come to a firm decision. Secretly, he wished he could be somewhere far from here, distant from his kind. Perhaps it was a sense of alienation, of not being one of them anymore, but for now, he knew he had to deal with it.

Nevan smiled as she came in with her best light strut, pushing open the heavy door before her with a pleased expression, her long and rich red hair flowing in swaths down her shoulders to cover her breasts. Her flowing 'dress', made of shadows clinging to her body, trailed behind her like silk as she practically glided in. She always wanted to look her best for him.

"Sparda, dear," she said happily, approaching him. "Finally, you're back. I've missed you so, sugar…" She boldly went right up and took hold of his arm in hers, embracing it tightly.

"Mmmm, I missed you," she purred. "You were gone for quite a bit this time around. Did you miss me at all?"

"Yes, it has been long since I was away for this much," he said, breathing deeply to swallow his melancholy and drew a small smile at her."You could say that, yes. Did dullness get the best of you while I was gone?"

Nevan chuckled a little and shook her head. "Yes, it did. What could I do anyway, socialize? I messed around with some of our...hmm, friends, but all this stuff is dull and annoying without you around to laugh at them," she pouted. "I can't stand some of those brutes... And humans! Oh they're too easy to trick and play with, they're so weak."

"I share that feeling more than you'd think," he replied with an enigmatic tone. Sparda shifted his gaze to take in her features.

He reached up to her cheek with his fingers and rubbed her skin with the side of his index finger, sighing thoughtfully. It saddened Sparda to remember what he once treasured was exactly what he was starting to despise and knew that Nevan would soon be a part of it. He was torn about this. Nevan…for all the faults that he found in her now, she had been close to him when others did not dare. He knew it was a fascination rather than deep emotion but their long acquaintance was a solid one.

Nevan did not notice his expression; she just smiled at him and his caress. "None of them have your finesse or your manners. They all act like...like-ugh, nevermind!" She dismissed the notion with a dismissive shake of her hand. "It doesn't matter anymore, you're here now," she added, taking her hands to his face, caressing his cheeks and brushing some of his hair off his temple, quite tenderly. "Now tell me...what shall we do, now that you're here?"

For a brief instant, Sparda froze on the spot without knowing what to say, even though he had already been expecting that question. He always knew what he wanted…but not anymore. He couldn't even recognize his own mind. And he did not know what to answer to her now. Instead he wrapped his arms around her and leaned his head over her shoulder.

"This...will do just fine," he said. Part of him still wanted her, her presence and her conversation. But most of him didn't. Still, he cared enough about her to say nothing of what was on his mind.

Nevan was a bit surprised at that reaction and paused. He knew she surely realized this was...unlike him, in ways that she probably couldn't put her finger on. She must've figured out that something was wrong with him. Even he knew that something about was different about him; he had changed somehow and he couldn't understand why. Obviously Nevan wouldn't, either.

"Sparda..." she said, more quietly now, almost caring. "What's the matter, darling? Is something troubling you?" She gently put her hands around his back.

Sparda clenched his jaw quietly. He knew there were rumors flying about the Underworld that she undoubtedly must have heard some time: That the Dark Prince, Mundus himself, had reasons to distrust Sparda. That Sparda was being scrutinized and doubted. That he spent too much time in the human world with nobody really knowing what he was doing. Sparda knew that demons coveting his position as one of Mundus' champions circulated them feverishly and that many wanted to believe them, but he wasn't sure what Nevan thought. She always talked about how he was the most loyal of Mundus' vassals. He was something of an ideal for the rest-if demons ever adhered to ideals. So far he'd kept his private thoughts from everybody but he wasn't sure how long that could last before someone suspected.

"No," he calmly answered. He briefly smiled at her. "I am simply... not in the best state of mind right now." He paused and sighed. He couldn't hide forever. But until Sparda had found his answers within himself—what it was that he was feeling, how he viewed his very world and more importantly, what he believed and whose side he was on…he needed to keep it to himself.

"Surely all I need is some rest. Then I will be fine," he added after the pause, sounding confident.

Nevan wasn't very convinced. "You do sound...worn, dear Sparda," she said. There was a slight hint of reluctance, and she pulled away from him to look him up and down. He looked same as always; Sparda often concealed his true, Dark Knight appearance under a subtle, even frail-looking human guise. Most demons detested this kind of disguise, especially the human forms. They looked down at them just as much as they did to humans, despite how practical these forms often were. But Nevan had taken after his habit and her own form most of the time was human-like, alluring, sensual and retaining her inhuman yet desirable paleness. Sparda preferred a more subtle form, a virile man in his primes with silver-like hair and noble features. Nevan always said she found him extremely handsome, either way.

"I suppose I can help you relax and rest—in any way you want, that is, it doesn't matter," she added before he could think she was necessarily suggesting something lewd.

He was glad she did; Sparda wasn't always about carnal pleasures. More often than not, he actually craved conversation and she gladly obliged. But that observant nature of this courtesan demon might actually end up giving him away if he wasn't careful. She might manage to get the slightest of hints out of him that something was not quite right, that he was conflicted.

Surely enough, she looked him straight in the eye with a curious gaze. "You aren't lying to me...are you?" she whispered calmly.

He frowned at the accusation, especially since from his point of view, he was merely hiding things which he knew would depress her. Perhaps even damage a part of her that she was not aware that even existed. He never thought he'd think that way, being a demon, but lo and behold, already it had become part of who he was. No one could say that Nevan couldn't feel pain; but what he could say might be the kind that could not be healed. Of course he'd never talk about this to her. Nevan also had pride and to insinuate that she might have what could be defined as 'human emotions' would send her in a rage. He'd been furious to realize that himself, before he grew to accept them.

"I have never lied to you and never will," he sharply said. There was plenty he could've added but left it at that. But perhaps it was already too late.

She's already suspicious of me. Is it that obvious that I…don't know who I am anymore? Perhaps there's no way I can talk myself out of this, he thought, dreading a future he did not want to come-yet.

But she smiled, looking relieved.

"Very well," she said with a touch of tease. "I will believe you—this time," she said, touching his nose with her finger. "You've been almost good to me all this time, but like the naughty boy you are, you've given me trouble too, Mr. Handsome Knight. Now, come on inside." Nevan tugged at his arm, drawing him along with her. I'll get you your favorite drink and sing for you, that serenade you always enjoy. I remember you once said it puts your mind at ease," she said with what sounded like an almost human sincerity.

Sparda took a deep breath, following Nevan inside. He was far more relieved than her. Either he was mistaken and she could not fathom the extent of his torment…or she knew very well but let him be.

"Alright," he said. "Perhaps later… we may do something you want, as well."

Sparda regretted the words the instant they left his mouth, but he could not recant for fear of arousing her suspicion. Somehow, Nevan was much less of a demon in his eyes than others of their kind. She was somewhat dear to him, after all. Then he did not feel that regretful anymore. Again, he smiled at her.

"Perhaps I really did miss you…a bit," he said half seriously, but making it distinct that he was teasing her more than anything.

These memories were all Nevan had to mull over as she sat alone in the darkness of the cavern, sealed away from the world—both of men and of demons. In the darkness of the tower of Temen-Ni-Gru she relived that day in her thoughts. Nothing but her shadows kept her company and the long hours drew out in her loneliness. She had lost track of time; how long had she been there? She sat in the middle of a sunken opera room, in the bowels of a buried tower, where she once entertained demons with her singing and sensual dances. Now it lay empty with the hundreds of ever-burning candles flickering dully in the subterranean air.

Nevan, crumbled on the floor rather pitifully, with her shadow-woven dress piled around her legs, ground her teeth while the intolerable feeling caught her breath in her throat. She was angry, furious in fact, at him. She was furious and had he been there she would have very well clawed his eyes out of his face, Dark Knight or not. She balled her fists so tightly that her nails dug into her palms, drawing blood through her clenched fingers. She was angry and yet…impossibly sad. She couldn't comprehend exactly why she ought to be sad and worse of all, she did not know what to do with herself. She was not accustomed to feeling sadness—or feeling anything at all.

"You…lied to me…darling…" she murmured. "You lied to me and now you're gone. You lied…to everyone."

Sparda had turned his back on all of them, even his own lord and gone and sided with those despicable, horrid monkeys that he so loved. She hated humans with a passion, even more so now that they had taken her beloved Sparda from her. The idea that he put them above her made her blood boil. She tilted her head back towards the gray and empty ceiling of the cavern and screamed with rage and betrayal. She was furious but…how could she bring herself to completely hate him?

NOTE: I always was quite inclined to the idea that Nevan really had something for Sparda. Her attitude to Dante implied as much and I sort of read that as a mix of severe anger and fond nostalgia, something she couldn't quite settle on. Of course, her being a demon and of such a deceptive kind, it would probably be wrong to charge her with emotions that would probably be defined as thoroughly human.

However, it did make a root for this very interesting story and I did always want to explore a bit of Sparda and his mindset concerning his eventual change.