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Sparda woke to the sun on his face, the sweet scent of ripe apples, and the voices of small children bickering. He was familiar with all three sensations, and all three were welcome because of what they meant, though the last was also touch exasperating. Vergil and Dante, twin suns in his twilight existence, twin menaces of his current life. Opening his eyes, he stretched luxuriously, then used the apple tree he'd been dozing against to get to his feet and sought for his family, finding them almost immediately.
Eva, her hair gold as a brand in the summer sun, walked sedately out of the nearby woods, the twins orbiting around her like two little comets. She had a basket in the crook of one arm, and each of the twins held one as well, and the happy smiles on their faces had Sparda melting instantly. She must've taken them foraging today.
Eva always claimed that the best spell ingredients were harvested from nature, and so he'd built their home close to the forest for her convenience. The city had greatly encroached on the land in the decades since, but there was still enough wilderness to provide for her needs… which now included wearing out two growing boys with enough energy to power the city for a month.
Even as Sparda watched, Dante sped up his circling, obviously excited to be home.
"Dante, slow down," Eva ordered.
"But we're almost home! We can eat the berries! Fiiiiiiinally!!!" Dante shouted back, holding the basket above his head like an offering as he ran ahead of his mother and brother.
Ah ha! Berries. Much of his excitement was explained, then. Dante loved sweet berries (a trait he got from his father). As much as he loved watching his more extroverted son light up, Sparda winced in anticipation of what he knew was coming.
As was inevitable, Dante tripped rather spectacularly, sprawling face first into the dirt, the contents of his basket spilling out in a wave across the ground.
Vergil barked out a laugh at his twin's misfortune, then wilted under Eva's disapproving frown. "You shouldn’t laugh at your brother falling down, Vergil. That's not very nice."
"But he— he didn't listen to you!" Vergil protested.
"And he already found out why he should have listened." Graceful as a deer, Eva knelt and helped Dante up. "Laughing at him won't do anything except rub it in and hurt his feelings."
Tears cut clean tracks in Dante's dirty face as he gazed pitifully at the scattered contents of his basket.
Proving her wisdom in insisting on pants and dresses with multiple pockets, Eva produced a rag from one such pocket and wiped Dante's face, then his hands and grubby knees. "Are you hurt?"
"No," Dante mumbled, head hanging.
Tilting his face up to hers, she said, "I'm glad. Next time, remember to slow down and pay attention where you're going. I know you get excited, but I don't want you to get hurt because you forgot to look before you leap."
He nodded glumly. "Okay, Mama."
"Good. Now, let's pick up your berries and the other things you collected. We'll wash them off and they'll be fine." Ruffling his hair and getting a soggy smile for her effort, she helped him pick up the spilled berries. After a moment, a still sulky Vergil crouched and started helping too, which earned him a smile of approval from Eva. (Sparda loved that smile so much. Every time he saw it, his heart skipped like it was the first time.) Vergil tried to keep up the scowl, but melted when Eva ran her fingers lightly through his hair.
Standing, Eva shifted her basket to her shoulder, then held out a hand to each child. "Come on, boys! I don't know about you, but I'm getting hungry. We can make lunch and have it ready for your dad when he gets in from picking apples." The two eagerly agreed, taking her hands and clinging tight as they trotted alongside her, looking up at her face as they chattered; two little sunflowers with the sun smiling between them.
Thoroughly enchanted with his family, Sparda abandoned apple picking and followed at a distance, veiling himself from view so as not to spoil their fun.
Keeping his distance, he gazed through the kitchen window as they scrubbed their hands. (Dante in particular had acquired a layer of topsoil that even his earlier spill couldn't account for and got his face washed as well.) The boys then helped Eva wash off the gathered herbs, mushrooms, woodland fruits, and some early almonds. After a rinse and a required taste-testing, the much desired berries were placed in a bowl for a lunchtime dessert. That done, Eva sent Dante and Vergil on a quest to pick three big tomatoes, a cucumber, and some lettuce from the garden.
Sparda watched with amusement as his boys bickered over which tomatoes to pick, and ended up deciding based on taste— which meant three tomatoes with bites out of them for the kitchen, and four tomatoes for hungry stomachs. The lettuce was picked much more quickly and the cucumber chosen based on which was shaped the funniest. Sparda chuckled softly, which made the boys turn their heads in his direction, eyes bright and curious, but not fearful.
Oh, they had heard him? Even at this distance, with his magic cloaking him? They were growing so fast!
Proud of their small step towards greater power, Sparda followed them back to the kitchen, slipping inside this time so he could better observe.
Eva accepted their twins' finds, saying nothing about the bite marks in the tomatoes, but complimenting the funny cucumber. She had already taken out the bread and other sandwich fixings, arranging them on the counter. Now she took a small key off a peg and used it to unlock the knife cabinet.
The key and lock briefly glowed yellow before the telltale click! announced its opening. A lock had been deemed insufficient to keep curious boys away, so Eva had warded it too, and well that she had. Sparda stifled a chuckle at the way two sets of blue eyes fastened onto the contents as Eva made her selection. They were definitely his sons.
"Can I help?" Dante cried, practically vibrating.
Unwilling to let his brother have all the fun, Vergil chimed in, "I want to help!"
"I asked first!"
"So?!"
"Boys." Eva's stern tone froze them both before they could start shoving. "Do not fight while the knives are out or I'll send you both out of the room."
"Sorry," they chorused, looking contrite.
Nodding graciously, she said, "Yes you both may help, one at a time. Dante did ask first, so he'll go first. Dante, get the step, please." Dante eagerly fetched the wooden block they used so the boys could stand even to the counter and hopped on. Eva stood behind him and Sparda moved in closer, watching as Eva guided his son's hands through the motions of slicing a tomato. He did the same when teaching the boys swordcraft, his hands over theirs on the hilt of a practice blade, but this… this was somehow so different. Delicate, graceful, mundane in a way that made it uniquely beautiful.
Quietly, Sparda observed Vergil take his turn, tiny face a mask of concentration. "When can I do it by myself?" he asked, because of course he did.
"When I know you're ready," Eva replied serenely, while Vergil scowled down at his vegetable victim and cut with a little more force than was necessary.
Sparda smile wryly. Vergil was an independent spirit, always pushing ahead, testing his own boundaries and limits. He wanted always to take the next step on whatever path he had chosen. Dante, for all his reckless abandon while at play, was the sort to tear something apart until he knew it by heart before moving on. All the world was a puzzle to be solved for Dante. Even now, he watched Eva and Vergil work like a cat watching a bird. Sparda felt a surge of affection for his sons, his little warrior and tiny hunter. How could identical twins be so different, even as their souls were fundamentally intertwined? Sparda made a mental note to start emphasizing patience and knowing one's limits to Vergil, and working on curbing Dante's more reckless traits, while encouraging him to start looking ahead instead of focusing only on right now.
Within short order, everything that needed to be sliced had been sliced, then the boys put the ingredients away while Eva washed the knife and restored it to the locked cabinet. "Now bring out the lemonade," she told them while fetching down plates and cups. "Be careful and use both hands!"
Sparda grinned. That delightful minx! When had she made lemonade?! Eva's lemonade was a magical creation (possibly literally, he'd never been able to coax the truth out of her), the perfect refreshing mix of sweet and tart. He was rather certain he would have another go at destroying Mundus's army just for a pitcher of the stuff.
The twins obeyed. It took both of them to carry the heavy pitcher to the table, but teamwork got them through. Clever of Eva to quietly teach them a lesson on working together. Only time would tell if it sank in through those thick little skulls.)
Alright! Now who wants to go get your father?" Eva asked, beaming proudly at them.
Hurrying to the door, Sparda opened it while simultaneously dropping his cloaking magic. "No need! I'm here!"
"DAD!"
He would never tire of hearing that word, especially when shouted with such excitement. It was good that he was strong yet, as a human man would've been knocked off his feet by the two enthusiastic children throwing themselves at him, wrapping their arms around his legs.
"You're both so excited!" he said, ruffling their hair. "What's the occasion?"
"Just happy to see you!" Dante exclaimed, succeeding in cutting off some blood circulation to Sparda's lower leg as he squeezed hard.
"Well, I'm happy to see you both too. Did you have fun this morning while I was hard at work?" Sparda ignored his wife's knowing look as he gently pried his offspring's arms from his legs, then allowed them to tow him to the table. He dutifully praised the sandwich offerings, wondering at how perfectly everything was sliced, then pretending astonishment when Dante and Vergil proclaimed that they had done the cutting.
Eva stopped him from sitting, motioning to the sink. "Wash your hands first."
Obediently, he did just that, giving her a kiss on the way. "Yes, dear. And how was your morning?"
She laughed softly, hazel eyes brighter than the sunlight pouring in from the window. "Busy."
‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿
Late that night, they lay in bed together, Sparda idly playing connect-the-dots with the freckles on Eva's back. Eva hadn't aged a day since they had forged their contract (wedding vows were so useful when one wanted to tie their spouse's life-force to their own immortal one), but motherhood had changed her body. She'd lost much of her fighter's lean hardness, exchanging it for soft curves, while still maintaining strength. He was ever enamored of his wife, and that had not changed a single wit. If anything, his infatuation had only increased. Humanity's easy ability to change, physically, mentally, even spiritually, was something he found fascinating.
"I watched you with the boys today," he murmured.
She hummed happily. "Lurker. I thought I sensed you in the kitchen. Did you pick any apples today?"
He chuckled, leaning down to press a kiss to her shoulder, eliciting another pleased hum from her. Clearing his throat, he asked, "I was wondering, does it ever get bothersome, how the boys cling to you?"
"What?" she asked, a laugh in her voice as she turned her head to look back at him, tucking her golden hair behind one ear.
"They follow you everywhere, like little shadows," he said, trying to explain. "Don't they get in the way? You only have time to yourself when I take the boys to train or play, and they run right back to your side as soon as we're done." He hesitated, meeting her eyes. "Isn't it a burden?"
At this, she rolled over onto her side and propped herself up on an elbow to see him better, momentarily distracting Sparda from his question… and every other intelligent thought. Blinking, he tore his gaze away from his wife's delectable assets and back up to her smirking face. He gave her a sheepish smile in return, but didn’t apologize. He would never apologize for finding his mate beautiful.
Reaching out, she threaded her fingers through his hair, and he automatically leaned into her touch. "Vergil and Dante are never burdens," she told him. "Trials, on the occasion, but joyful ones. I love our sons, Sparda. They're not my shadows, they're my sunshine."
At her words, his heart panged with a sweet sort of ache he was becoming all too familiar with. This pain born of love… This was why he had sworn to protect Earth and humanity, for this taste of joy all but unheard of by devilkind.
"I'm glad," he admitted, reaching up and taking her hand to press a kiss to her knuckles. "I'm so glad to hear that. I thought I'd reached the limit on happiness when you agreed to be my wife, then when fate blessed us with our two treasures, I found I was wrong." He moved their entwined hands to press over his heart, as is she might be able to feel beyond the beat to the emotion that drove it. "How do humans bear it? It's painful, how full my heart feels."
Her eyes softened in that way he loved, and she sat up properly, taking his face in her hands and kissing his tears away. "Love can be a heavy weight, but one that's lightened when shared."
He wrapped her in his arms, burying his face in her hair and inhaling the scent of earth and summer blooms that seemed to be as much a part of her as her magic. As she'd promised, the heaviness faded to something far more bearable and infinitely tender.
"Sparda," she said after a moment, sounding strangely tentative.
"Hmm?"
"What would you say to… trying again?"
Confused, he drew back enough to see her face. Her cheeks were pink and she seemed almost shy. "Try what again?"
"Well, the boys were a surprise." That was an understatement if he'd ever heard one. Neither he nor Eva had thought cambions more than foolish human myth. Decades of childless marriage had only reinforced the belief… and yet, two little miracles had occurred nonetheless.
Eva tapped her fingers on his bicep in a nervous dance. "I was wondering how you'd feel about trying to have more children."
Trying for more children? The idea was baffling, and had never even occurred to him. His kind, when they took a mate, didn't try for children. Offspring just happened as fate decreed it, and then the resultant nestlings were zealously guarded and raised to adulthood. Trying to have children was a purely human concept. And yet…
Sparda remembered their shock when the doctor had told them that Eva was pregnant. Shock had turned to excitement and terrible fear, boundless joy and endless anxiety. They had walked those rocky, never-before trod nine months together, learning as they went. He felt again the first time he held his sons, how red and squished they had looked, and yet how perfectly they'd fit in his arms. He'd wept and known down to his very soul that he'd do anything for his children— including finally killing that old bastard Mundus if needed. Sparda considered the years following, all the ups and downs of raising two truly unique beings. It had been, and still was, incredibly challenging. A joyful challenge, as Eva had stated, but still a challenge. Did he want to add another such being to their relatively peaceful life?
And it was then, as he asked himself that question, that his mind conjured the image of a tiny girl with Eva's hazel eyes and sun colored hair.
He was stunned by the sudden wave of longing that crashed over him at the vision. Sparda could see his little girl chasing her brothers with a toy sword and gun, feel her tiny hand in his, hear her piping voice asking unending questions about the most random things…
"I think," he said slowly, "that I would like that very much."
Eva, who had been somewhat reserved while he thought, beamed at him like the sun coming out from behind the clouds. "Really?!"
"Yes," he said, more certain now. "Yes, really. Even deliberately trying, though, it may take some time before we see results," he cautioned. After all, the boys had certainly taken their sweet time in arriving. (Which, now that he had met his sons, did not surprise him. Contrarians both were the wonderful twin terrors.)
"Yes, I'm aware." Her grin suddenly turned devilish. "But it's not like the attempting part will be unpleasant."
"I should very well hope not," he mock growled, then leaned in to capture her laugh with a proper kiss.
༺♥༻❀༺♥༻
Two Little Shadows
I saw a young mother
With eyes full of laughter
And two little shadows
Came following after.
Wherever she moved,
They were always right there
Holding onto her skirts,
Hanging onto her chair.
Before her, behind her—
An adhesive pair.
"Don't you ever get weary
As, day after day,
your two little tagalongs
Get in your way?"
She smiled as she shook
Her pretty young head,
And I'll always remember
The words that she said.
"It's good to have shadows
That run when you run,
That laugh when you're happy
And hum when you hum—
For you only have shadows
When your life's filled with sun.