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The house, cloaked in shadows, seemed to retreat before the luminous gaze of proud parents who hovered over their cherished daughter. Their eyes, tender, and adoring, shone with a fierce brightness at every flutter and whisper from their beloved Claudia.
"She's so pretty, Les," murmured Louis, his voice heavy with wonder, as he watched Claudia's delicate fingers dance over the intricate patterns of her newly gifted jewelry box. A macabre offering from Lestat, plundered from the remains of some aristocratic victims some wars ago, their lives severed as brutally as their heads.
Lestat sent his way a charismatic smirk. The lope-sided birthday hat was harshly discarded with a swift hand, landing close to the deceased delivery boy their girl had drained before amusing herself with something with more sparkle. He strode closer to their daughter and settled on the settee, his feet just behind a giggling Cladia. “I admire her aesthetic, mon cher. Our Claudia, having a penchant for the nicest things.”
The elder vampire lifted the girl from the ground and placed her gently on his lap. His arm coiled around her slender form, and with a mischievous gleam in his eye, Lestat pinched her side, eliciting an amused squeal from his cherished daughter. Louis, watching this tender exchange, circled the sofa and settled himself on the armrest, quietly integrating into the intimate tableau of their peculiar family.
“Don’t worry, my belladonna,” Lestat whispered. “You shall receive everything you can ever wish for… and more.”
That sly grin on his husband’s face did not escape Louis. He knew Lestat too well, could predict his every whim and mischief, yet found himself continually enchanted by the vampire’s insatiable spirit. He exhaled a series of chuckles before replying, “That is if our belladonna is nice, respectful, and well-behaved.”
“Daddy Lou, you’re no fun,” Claudia, already entertained with her trinket, looked at Louis with a protruding pout.
Lestat mimicked the childish act, accompanying it with the girl’s voice and her distinguishable accent, “Yeah, Daddy Lou, that is no fun at all.”
Claudia turned her head to her other parent, offering Lestat a sheepish, innocent smile. It was the kind of smile that Lestat, for all his years and counting, was still learning to resist. “Daddy Les, I want a pony.”
Louis was quick to reply, “Now, Claudia–”
“Of course!” Lestat replied, amused by their daughter’s request. His eyes grew wide, the gray hue of his irises sparkled under the light. “Of course. Of course! Why not!”
He continued even under the warning gaze of his husband. “As long as you promise to feed it and it will not feed you.”
Claudia squealed in delight and hopped off her father's lap, breaking into a small dance before them. The sugary euphoria from the blood she had just devoured fueled her spirited performance of arm flapping and foot tapping. Louis and Lestat watched, entranced, as their little one twirled and moved, a radiant contrast to the darkness that surrounded them.
“Pony! Pony! Pony!”
“What color would you prefer, darling?” Lestat questioned, gaze focused on his little one. “If you ought to mount it, too, you must decide on the color of its saddle and bridle.”
A mix of a squeal and a gasp emitted from the smiling mouth of Claudia. Her whole little body shivered in excitement resembling her reactions to her first hunt with Lestat and Louis.
Louis appraised the situation, his demeanor starkly contrasting to his daughter's. He was vexed, tension radiating through every fiber of his being, a palpable sense of stress etching lines into his usually composed countenance.‘Hey, now, I think we should–”
“I want it to be exactly like Frou-Frou!” Claudia said.
The response evoked a chuckle from Lestat, having remembered the references from one of their most recent reads. “Ah, Tolstoy. Oui, bien sûr, ma chérie. I will have that arranged for you by the end of the week.”
“Lestat–” Once again, interrupted by the response of Claudia.
“But I want a red saddle, Daddy Les. Think we can find one?”
Lestat's expression twisted into one of incredulity, his eyes narrowing and lips curling into a silent, sardonic query that unmistakably conveyed, "Do not trouble yourself with that, babydoll.”
Standing to his feet and coming close to his daughter, Lestat twirled Claudia around in a circle, slowly commencing a waltz around drained corpses and blood puddles. “I will make sure a red saddle is made for you, adorned with jewelry too. I reckon you’d want a pair of red boots for that, hmm?”
Leaning over to her ear, he whispered, “So the blood you step on just blends right in with the color of your boots, like it was always meant to be there.”
Claudia and Lestat continued their promenade, bones and fingers of the newly deceased cracking underfoot with each step. Louis remained stunned, still seated in the armchair, unable to comprehend the dreadful scene unfolding before him. It was not the scene of his family double-killing their blood bags-once-humans but rather the brazen conversation that they just had excluding him.
Although, he remained silent in his place. His eyes followed Lestat until the man felt his stare. Once eye contact was made, Louis shook his head and gave his husband an unamused gaze. Lestat merely shrugged, his eyes twinkling with mischief and affection as he continued spinning his daughter to the air and back to the ground.
“Oui, mon cher?” he called.
Raising an eyebrow, Louis complemented his stern look with a crossing of his arms, “A pony? Here? In New Orleans?”
Lestat directed an open palm toward their daughter. “She asked for it. What am I, as a parent, if I turn down my fledgling?” he declared, his voice a blend of playful justification and genuine adoration. Exasperated, Louis briefly inhaled in preparation for a smarter reply but a next round of Claudia’s dance intermission interrupted her parents’ short-lived discussion on parenting, and all attention was turned back to her.
-
“A pony, Lestat? A pony? For a seven-year-old?” Louis started upon entering their coffin room just after they had tucked their little girl into hers. That night, Lestat, being Claudia’s favored father, found himself bombarded with her inquisitive questions about vampirism and an array of other topics under the moon. His patience and amusement never wavered as he answered each query, indulging her insatiable curiosity with stories and explanations, his voice a soothing cadence in the dimly lit room. Although, that nightly session cost him two centuries of rest.
“Mon cher, I am not so kind when I am tired,” the poor man exhaled. Closing his eyes, he tried to drown Louis’ voice in the background as he entered his century-old coffin.
Fumbling over properly tying his robe, Louis pointed an accusing finger at him, “No, Mister de Lioncourt. “I want this discussed right now. Look at me, cher.”
At the mention of their last name, Lestat sat straight up. “Monseiur de Lioncourt.”
“You can't indulge her every whim. She'll grow up thinking we'll grant her every desire," Louis cautioned, his voice tinged with concern. “Mind you, physically, she will not age. Her mind, however, must mature and must be able to cope with the rapidly modernizing world around her. She must know rejection." His eyes were earnest as he emphasized the importance of preparing Claudia for the realities she would face, despite her eternal youth. “We won’t always be here for her.”
It was silent at first before Lestat burst into a mantra of loud, very loud, crackles. “Oh, Louis, Saint Louis. My love!”
“Don’t laugh,” Louis warned.
He jumped out of his coffin and jogged towards a fuming Louis. “Louis,” he takes Louis’ shoulders in his large hands, squeezing them, soothing them. “How can we not be here for her? We are immortal, my Louis! On that note, how will I allow our daughter to roam the lands without her parents? Hmm?”
“Lestat,” he shrugged his husband’s hands off him. "She will learn how to live alone. She has to," Louis insisted, his voice rising with a mixture of desperation and determination. "Her independence will come, and when it does, it will be a harsh and unforgiving reality. If she remains accustomed to everything being handed to her, she will be utterly unprepared for the challenges that lie ahead. We've wrapped her in a cocoon of protection, shielding her from the very world she needs to understand. This dependency we've fostered will be her downfall."
Louis watched Lestat’s face morph to a sullen one, darkening at every word he spat at his face. “We are a minority of the population, mon cher. She depends on us as we depend on each other. I can not understand why she has to be independent.”
He paced the room, eyes ablaze, hands gesticulating wildly as he spoke. "Do you not see, Lestat? We cannot keep her a child forever, despite her eternal youth. The world is changing, evolving, and she gotta evolve with it. If she does not learn to fend for herself, to face rejection, to overcome obstacles, trouble’s gon’ get her.. And I don’t want to bury myself in guilt just for her instant gratification. She must know struggle to appreciate strength, must taste failure to understand triumph. We cannot shield her from pain, for it is through pain that she will grow. And, in her growth, she will learn how to stride alone. She will march out those doors we’re keeping her from and live. She must learn how to live outside our doors, outside our reach, Lestat," he breathed in desperation, the stress creeping up. “Because… because she will leave us. To live on her own. She will leave this nest we have–”
“No!” A raging fire burned within Lestat and Louis saw it coming. “She will never leave. Never! Jamais!”
And hell broke loose. The intensity of Lestat's declaration reverberated through the room, unsettling the delicate balance between their desires to protect Claudia and the inevitable changes she would face in her immortal life.
"Elle restera ici pour toujours!" Lestat shouted to Louis, his voice echoing with a fury that seemed to shake the very foundations of their chamber. He advanced with predatory grace, eyes blazing, until Louis's back was pressed against the cold, unyielding ivory walls. His eyes turned an icy blue that Louis’ cold body shivered at the sight of it. "Je ne le permettrai pas! Jamais! Sa vie est ici! Avec nous! Avec moi! Je suis son père et je dis qu'elle reste! D’accord?"
Louis, caught off guard by the ferocity of Lestat's outburst, blinked up at Lestat. His heart, if it could still beat, would be pounding in his chest. Shadows danced across the room, flickering like the tempestuous emotions swirling between them. The air grew thick with the scent of roses and old blood, their immortal bond straining under the weight of conflicting desires and the unrelenting march of time. “Mon amour…”
“Non, Louis, non,” the crack in Lestat’s voice alarmed Louis and made it clearer to him of his husband’s firing headspace. “I… I will not allow it.”
His voice was tremors lower, sending another wave of shivers down Louis’ veins. The once water-like hues of Lestat’s eyes turned to a dark ocean pit with no end. Unclear and unforgiving. Louis stared and searched for the light, desperate to anchor his husband back up the safe shore of his arms and away from the unknown depths of his inflicting mind. “Mon amour, il faut se calmer. Je suis ici, mon cœur.”
Louis’ trembling hand found Lestat’s and guided it to his chest where a beating heart should’ve been. “Les, breathe.”
Unrelenting, Lestat maintained his fiery look at Louis. The hand on his husband's chest was colder now, and to Louis, it felt uninviting, entirely forced. He could feel the tension in Lestat's touch, a chill that mirrored the frigid distance growing between them. As Lestat's words hung heavy in the air, Louis couldn't help but wonder if he had pushed the older vampire too far, igniting a spark that threatened to consume them both. The intensity of the moment left him questioning the boundaries of their love and the sacrifices they were willing to make for Claudia's future.
“Permettez-moi d'être clair, Louis.” Lestat said, his voice seemingly forgetting who it was speaking to. “Elle ne partira pas. She…”
And there it was, the dam that awaited freedom. A dark red teardrop escaped Lestat’s ivory eyes, leaving a vivid stain on his pale cheek. The sight of it, so rare and raw, struck Louis to his core, a silent testament to the turmoil raging within his husband.
“She will not leave me, Louis,” the voice now shaking. “She can not leave me, Louis.”
A surge of understanding and empathy enveloped Louis, each nuance of his husband's changing expression hitting him like an electric charge. He saw the pain, the love, the fierce protectiveness, and the vulnerability all etched into Lestat's features, and it softened the edges of his own resolve. At last, the room felt warmer as familiarity introduced itself back inside their abode. Louis finally found the anvil pulling Lestat down and he was determined to save his husband from the whirlpool of his evading emotions
“My love, please,” Louis slowly reached an arm back to Lestat, making sure that his hand was seen. He tried to control the trembles of his hand, not wanting to alarm Lestat further or trigger another wave of anger. With a deliberate calmness, his palm settled on the older man’s chest. At that moment, they were cradling each other’s hearts, an unspoken bond of understanding and love solidifying between them amidst the turmoil. “I’m here and she is too. You tucked her in her coffin and she’s out like a bat.”
“Louis, my Claudia, my Claudia…” he panted in shaking exhales. His hand on Louis, however, was steady and growing warmer to the touch, lightly gripping the silk of their nightrobes. Times like this, Louis wished their hearts were beating, racing to the point of synchronization. It was something so small, something so easily disregarded, only now that it was gone had he learned of its significance. If the muscle had a rhythm, he would know - he would hear - Lestat at times of sorrow or joy by the mere tempo of it.
“Your Claudia is asleep, mon cher,” Louis said, snaking a hand to Lestat’s blond curls. He tangled his slender digits through the growing locks with an occasional tug at the spots where he knew his husband loved.
One heavy breath out, Lestat replied. “Je suis désolé, mon amour. Je me suis perdue.”
“It’s alright, it’s all good, Babe.” Louis comforted him before leading them both back to their coffins, deciding that that night was one of those where one plus one is one. “You’re alright, we’re alright.”
A guiding hand directed Lestat into his coffin, and once he was settled, Louis joined him. Lestat was quick to envelop his love in a crushing hug, pulling him close. In the intimate darkness, their cold bodies pressed together, they found solace in each other's embrace, a temporary reprieve from the storm of emotions and uncertainties that plagued their immortal existence.
However, beyond the darkness, one constant would forever remain—their love, infinite and enduring, standing longer than the passage of time itself. It was a love that had weathered centuries, unbroken by the trials they faced. With this boundless well of affection, Louis and Lestat would triumph over any obstacle, finding strength in their unwavering bond. In each other’s arms, they felt an indomitable spirit, a connection that transcended the mortal coil and promised them eternity together, no matter the challenges that lay ahead. At the times when things can get tough, they will always have their daughter.
“I’m sorry, mon cher, I just…”
Louis smiled up at Lestat, beaming from his place on his husband’s chest. “Tell me anything. Dites-moi.”
“I don’t particularly like being abandoned,” he quietly confessed while attempting to maintain a proud demeanor, a trait that Louis had read easily. “Even the mere idea of it.”
“Les…” Louis trailed.
Lestat interrupted him with a firm hold on Louis’ shoulders, “Mon cher, please, don’t allow her to leave our nest, no matter how suffocating it may be.”
In the quiet confines of their shared coffin, the vampires found solace in the warmth and certainty they provided for each other. A mutual understanding permeated the foggy atmosphere, clearing their minds and eyes. In that clarity, they reached for each other’s hands, a tangible connection in the enveloping darkness.
“I’m aware that my being protective can come across as overbearing and my responses may turn violent at times but understand that I do this only for the sole reason that I love our daughter. I love this family beyond myself,” Lestat whispered, cautious that their daughter’s sensitive hearing could pick up his private confessions despite being a hallway away. “I know I have grown a hideous temper through this grubby century, allowing Claudia to bear witness to it, even letting her fix me from some time, but Louis, I think… I think the person who I’ve become is my response to being a parent.”
Louis’ green orbs softened, turning to a sage. “Oh, baby.”
“This protective, possessive, spontaneous, hovering, at times illogical person that I’ve come to be,” Lestat said each word ending in a rougher tone than the previous, “is because of and for Claudia.”
Louis understood it very clearly now that Lestat had filled in the pieces in between the questions he had for himself.
“You, mon cher, made me a father,” he said more calmly, looking down at Louis lying on his chest. “I'm a father with all the vices and mistakes that define who I am, and I embrace this new identity because it allows me to protect our family. If any harm, disrespect, or even a wrong glance comes our daughter's way, I now know what to do, and that alone brings me an indescribable amount of joy. It gives a vampire a purpose.”
Louis was brought back to the time when he had inquired Lestat about his purpose back when he was a newly-turned vampire and no longer a breadwinner for this human family, ever since he too had been searching for his purpose and had thought it was a matter that his husband could never understand given the different lifestyle he had for himself. It was confirmation of the understanding they had sustained and built for the course of the night.
“I love you so much, Les,” Louis whispered and raised his body up to grant his husband an intimate kiss on their trembling lips, parting only when he felt Lestat losing control. “B-But Les, You gotta understand.”
Breaking their moment was in itself a task to Louis, a tedious task he hated having to implement at times when he and Lestat finally found the peace that they’d been trudging for through forests of argumentations. It was a feeble attempt for them to return to their main topic of discussion.
“I think I’ve made a point, Saint Louis,” said Lestat, reaching to Louis for another round of lips.
Louis turned his head, avoiding him but compensating with a firm yet gentle tap on Lestat’s chest. “Yes, I know, a very valid one, Les. I adore you for all of you. Parenthood indeed changed the dynamics within our families and we’ve now acquired ourselves new roles to play, roles requiring maturity–”
“Are you insinuating my immaturity?” he said, taking a glance at Louis.
“- and good teamwork between us,” Louis finished. “Les, when we’re raising Claudia, don’t you think it would do us good if we both have a middle-ground on her limitations? For example, tonight’s little hurrah, I know you saw me disagreeing with you. You don’t have to read my mind to know that. All I’m asking, you gotta set her some of your own boundaries and respect the ones I have for her.”
Lestat didn’t respond right away and Louis respected that in return for his request. He understood that his demands may be foreign to him, even rigid considering how different they are in the parental spectrum. As much as Louis loved their unique styles in raising a fledgling, they held their setbacks such as this.
Lestat broke his trailing thoughts, “I think I’ve grasped your concept of parenting.”
“Yeah?” Louis smirked. “We got a deal there, husband?”
A chuckle broke out of his husband, alleviating Louis of his worries, “You and your tendencies of mixing human and vampire business.”
“Give me some slack, this is parental business. Father to father.”
They shared a fit of laughter, a rare moment of levity, as they embraced the domestic responsibilities that had become their new reality. The thought of Claudia at the other end of the hall humbled them, a poignant reminder of the rightness of her adoption and the strange semblance of family they had managed to create. Moral decency and societal norms be damned, Lestat and Louis knew that their trio was a perfect fit and they both wouldn’t have it any other, morally grey, way.
In the quiet dark of their coffin, a kiss was shared by two bitten lips, a seal that connected a soul to another, making one plus one equal to one. Acknowledging the fiery burn from the pits of their being, the vampires deepened their connection and allowed their desire’s intensity to conquer every rational thought. Louis moaned upon Lestat grazing his fangs over his trembling lip while a hand migrating to the v-line down his torso. Right then, Louis knew where Lestat would be taking him.
However, an image of another inner side of a coffin appeared, vanishing his impure plans with Lestat. Louis’ eyes opened wide with his body preparing for a redirection. The image in his head turned blurry with a liquid film blocking a clear view of what he immediately recognized as Claudia’s coffin.
“Louis?” his husband called but to a dazed Louis, his deep voice blended into the background.
“Daddy Lou, are you there?” Claudia’s wavering voice reached his head.
“Yeah, sweetie. I’m here, your father’s here too. What’s wrong?”
“Come to me, please,” she said again, pleading his father. “With Daddy Les.”
Louis parted from Lestat and leveraged himself on his chest with one hand while the other pushed the coffin open.
“What is happening, Louis? Shall we continue on the bed?” Lestat asked, still drunk on lust.
Louis rose from the coffin and held out a hand for Lestat to take, “A little bat is calling for us.”
With his features softening and his dark blues dilating into the warm light of the room, Lestat accepted the hand and followed his husband’s trail. Louis led them to Claudia’s end of the hall and knocked on the door. At a short glance, he noticed Lestat gazing at the small family portrait drawn by their daughter which he begrudgingly stuck to her bedroom door. It was an objectively unpleasant portrait compared to the other masterpieces scattered along their gothic walls.
However, to Louis and Lestat, all the works of Claudia’s hands are prime works of art because they knew that their little daughter worked with love and genuine, just like the roots of her transformation.
“We’re coming in, darling,” Louis announced, allowing Lestat to open her door and invite them in.
They stationed themselves kneeling in front of the baby pink coffin and waited for Claudia to greet them. At that moment, Louis remembered seeing tears in his vision. “Why you upset, baby? Got scared of the sunlight outside?”
Her grisly bed moaned open and the two were immediately met with the biggest, most beautiful brown eyes, sparkling with crimson.
“Oh, ma petite, what has happened?” Lestat asked with the softest voice Louis knew he could muster, the only tone that was rightfully reserved for just their daughter. Then, he took their little girl into his arms, settled on the floor, and laid her again on his lap. Louis inched closer to them and reached out a hand to Claudia and removed the curls that had fallen in front of her eyes.
Claudia released a few rouge tears and sniffled. She snuggled closer to her father’s broad chest as if attempting to blend in the warmth it provided, this move urged Lestat to hug her tighter and for Louis’ worry to double its intensity. “Fire, Daddy.”
Confusion was plastered on the parents’ faces. They shared a long look to try to understand the concept of their youngling’s troubles. After a while of back and forth, Lestat had to ask, “Fire? What fire, ma cherie?”
The question seemed to have triggered Claudia as her small red waterfall began bursting waves of blood. “I-It’s going to h-hurt me! F-Fire!”
It was Louis who first grasped the depth of her torment. He often shared these memories with Claudia, recalling how the orange flames had illuminated the streets and the gray smoke had choked their lungs. He knew that she was haunted by nightmares of the night she was transformed. Fire, as lethal to humans as it was to vampires, had left little Claudia feeling profoundly helpless, a victim to both worlds. The memory of her terror was etched into her very being, a dark shadow that Louis, in his own sorrow, could fully understand. He, too, was there that night and he too trudged through the flame but, despite it, he knew deep within that their little girl suffered far worse than he did.
Louis took Claudia’s face in his soft hands. He smiled at the way his daughter leaned into the touch, staring back at him with the same look they shared that unfortunate-turned-fortunate night.
“Hey, come on now. As long as your Daddy Les and I are here, nothing’s gonna hurt ya’” Louis dictated, firm and unwavering.
“B-But it’s fire, Daddy.”
“Hey, no, none of that,” he wiped his daughter’s tears while Lestat cuddled her closer. “Listen to me and listen good. Your daddy and I? Will always be here for you. Always. In no circumstance would we let you get hurt, get sick, get mistreated ever again. You’re safe with us, kid. Now and forever.”
He watched Claudia's eyes intently, searching for a glimmer of trust in his words.
“It will always be the three of us, our Claudia. You, your Daddy Lou, and me,” Lestat said. “You, Daddy Lou, and me. Toujours.”
With a quiet sniffle and a mirrored gaze, Claudia reached for Louis’ face and slowly nodded at both her fathers. “Toujours.”
Perhaps, for today, Lestat was right. They could momentarily set aside the years spent instilling independence in Claudia and simply savor the dependence she still displayed, her small hands reaching out to them as if they were her lifeline. The reality of their eternal roles as her parents became poignantly clear, even though the little girl they cherished would inevitably grow and change.
The bittersweet truth was that they could always hold her on their laps, but there would come a time when she might no longer seek that comfort. Claudia would grow in mind and spirit, her intellect and will blossom with each passing year, but she would forever remain their little girl in the depths of their hearts.
On that gloomy day, Louis realized that the thought of Claudia leaving them was unbearable. He could not fathom a future without her presence, without the light she brought into their eternal night. In that moment, he understood the preciousness of the present, the fleeting nature of time, even for creatures like them who had an eternity to ponder it.
So, they decided to embrace the here and now, to hold onto these moments of dependency and love, to cherish the innocence of their beloved Claudia. For in the shadows of their immortal existence, it was these fragile, human connections that gave their vampiric lives meaning and purpose.