Beauty and the Beast | Vergil Sparda x reader

chapter 6 - Prince

First written: January 25th 2020

Rewritten: June 20th 2021

-

Heavy footsteps sound through the castle, sending the kitten staff into a rare quiet, and the other two servants into the servants quarters to hide. In the fit of rage time seemed less linear and more fluid, making it back into his bedroom in what felt like seconds. The door slams behind him, and despite the heavy wood, it rattles on its hinges. The lock breaks from the force. Everything in the room shook like it was trembling at his very presence, which was nothing new to him.

"Damn girl..."

He swipes away the shattered remnants of a chair, it flying and splintering as soon as it hits his bedpost. His legs give out, falling to his knees he places his head on the ground. Unaware of his new company, pushing themselves through the door.

His arms and legs burn with a heat and tightness, like hot chains wrapping around them and pulling him down into the ground. He closes his eyes tight, trying to ignore the searing pain. And just like that, he's small again. His head resting in a lap covered by a rich fabric, there's a soft chuckle and a hand running through his hair. "You're finally awake. I'm glad, you hit your head pretty hard. Maybe that will teach you not to fight with your brother."

He reaches up, grabbing at her dress. Trying to pull her closer to him, when he opens his mouth to speak, his voice sounds muffled and gargled. Like trying to speak underwater, to the point he can't even understand what he had said. Unfortunately her voice begins to sound exactly the same. He pulls himself closer, resting his head on her chest.

You try to back away, but his grip on your clothes is too strong, embarrassed by him now pressing his face into your chest. "Sir-" He jolts up, eyes wide as his face is inches from yours. You can feel his body heat and breathing on your skin. "Where- When did- Where is she?" He lets go, causing you to jerk backwards. His voice is loud and irritated, like whatever was going on in his head was your fault.

"Please, calm down."

Gently, you place your hands around his wrists, and his erratic breathing starts to slow. His eyes flutter shut, under your hands you feel him relax a little bit. You release your hold on him and get to your feet, taking a step back, trying to get a good grip on whether you could get to the door without another outburst from him. "No." His large hand encapsules one of your own, completely dwarphing it.

"Don't go." His voice sounds exhausted, like years of wear have eroded it down to this. He tugs lightly on your arm, there's no pain when he does it, using barely enough force to jossle you. He does know his own strength. You take the hint and kneel down where you had once been, sitting opposite him. He releases your hand as he keeps his eyes shut, less tired and more... embarrassed for asking you to stay. But you do. His breathing is labored, and his large body droops like a wilting flower.

He's in pain.

Both physically, and metaphorically. This... beast has caused you nothing but terror the past few days, making you the dumping pile for his rage. And still...

You lower yourself, wrapping your arms around him to the best of your ability. Of course your arms don't reach his back, but you're trying. You rest your head against his chest, and listen. Listen to the deep heave of every breath he takes, and how his heart beats faster and faster. You stay like that for a while, unaware of the shock that fills him completely.

"Why?" Rumbles from his chest, and you can only return a slight 'hmm?' "Why are you so willing to touch me now? Why are you not afraid?" Your lips press to a flat line, looking for an answer. Quickly enough, you find one, and it's the only one you can give. "Truthfully, I'm still scared. Terrified, really. But, you're hurt and you need someone. You need help, and I was taught better than leaving someone when they're hurt."

You can tell instantly that you had just bruised his pride, his chest swelling with an overexerted ego, and practically pushing you away. You let your arms fall and lean back, before you can finish, he cuts you off. "I do not. Do not pity me, girl. I do not need a peasant's pity." Then, you crack. "Will you let me finish!? God."

You take a deep breath in, then letting out more of a huff than a breath. "You aren't alone anymore, Prince Vergil. I will see to that, personally." He flinches at the very usage of his name, like it had been a long time since anyone had used it. You take one of his hands in both of yours. "I can only imagine the isolation you feel, the whole kingdom thinks you're dead, and the only person who knows the truth..."

"They forgot me, didn't they?" You knew the 'They' in question meant the kingdom his family presides over. "Apparently, when you disappeared, there was a small outbreak of the red plague. I guess it was only easier that way? I don't know that bit, I was-" No need to overshare, bite your tongue. "-To young to remember any of that time."

He doesn't say anything more, his eyes resting on the small bit of floor beneath you. You lean forward again, arms wrapping around him. You can tell he isn't taking this very well, that or, this is the first time his emotions have been recognised.

You sit there with him for what feels like hours, the sun outside changing its position and eventually getting blocked out by a new thickit of clouds. All of the fear you had drained out in that time, you couldn't possibly be afraid in this moment when he hadn't even moved in hours. Well, neither had you to be fair.

The sound of his deep breathing and the sheer warmth of his body was constant and comforting, maybe that's why you feel so calm. You close your eyes and relax against him without realizing, this unnatural calm lulling you to sleep.

-

When you wake, it's in an unfamiliar bed. It's huge and extremely warm, to the point you don't even want to get up. You sit up and look out, the broken furniture on the floor letting you know instantly where you are. This must be his bed then. When the blankets fall from your body you become aware of the bitter cold, and that you have been stripped of your coat and shoes. Looking over at the balcony, the doors are wide open, letting in the freezing air.

You push the heavy blankets away, getting up and creeping to the doorframe. There he is on the balcony, looking out at the snow blanketed garden. Despite your body screaming from being cold, you join him. Walking beside him and leaning against the railing, you gaze out into what looks to be an icy wasteland.

"I'm sorry." You say, your voice coming out lighter than you would've liked. Sounding airy, and weak. "What for?" He says quicker than expected. "All of this-" "Don't." He cuts you off abruptly, and before you can say anything, he waves you off, as if you're one of the servants.

You take this as your time to exit, putting your shoes back on, as well as your coat. Trying your best to step over all of the broken furniture, something in the far corner of the room against a wall catches your eye. And well, you've come this far, might as well see what it is. As you step closer, the remnants of a painting frame become easier to make out.

Chunks of the frame had been broken off, connected to the slashes down the painting. It was a boy in his teens, maybe 14, and his head had been seemingly slashed away. You smooth back the shredded canvas, taking in the slicked back white hair and icy blue eyes. A crown, grander than anything you could ever imagine, sitting atop his head.

You knew instantly. His bitterness, he was so young, and he's already been crowned.

A large hand slams above your head, caging you in. you drop your hand, slowly turning and facing him. A deep growl rolling from his chest once more, like a dog ready to attack. You swallow hard and stand up straight. "I'm sorry, I hadn't known you'd been-" "Get Out."