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May. 8th, 2006 | 12:19 pm
posted by: keep_this_scene in vc_fanfiction

Title: Another Place To Fall
(Sequel to Your Luck and Never Your Curse, which can be found here: http://community.livejournal.com/vc_fanfiction/6854.html#cutid1 )
Author: : Bosie (BTrouFreelance@yahoo.com)
Fandom: : The Vampire Chronicles
Pairing: : Louis/Daniel
Rating: : NC-17
Warning: : This has spoilers for the last few books. If you’ve not read Blood Canticle (frankly, it wasn’t much worth it anyway…), you might not wanna check this one out.
Summary: : Lestat as Coven Master is becoming more and more irritating, and Louis’ not sure he can handle it anymore. He moves out, and once again finds solace in the companionship of Daniel.
Disclaimer: : These characters belong to Anne Rice. I am using them out of sheer love for their lives and their world, and not for any monetary gain.
Other: : This is a sequel! If you’ve not read the first one, please, do so! Also, thanks to those who commented, I appreciate it immensely. And a humongous thanks to my muse, the lovely lady Sarah, who helped me work out all the intricacies of the storyline. She’s inspiring me to forge onward, so keep your eye out for the third installment, as well!


Louis folded the page over to the next, attempting to focus on the words.

‘Fog everywhere. Fog up the river, where it flows among green aits and meadows; fog down the river, where it rolls defiled among the tiers of shipping, and the waterside pollutions of a great (and dirty) city. Fog on the Essex marches...’


Louis blinked, a small noise of discontent rising in his own throat. He wished he could block out the sounds.

‘…fog on the Kentish heights. Fog creeping into the cabooses of collier-brigs; fog lying out on the yards, and hovering in the rigging of great ships; fog drooping on the gunwales of barges and small boats. Fog in the eyes and throats of ancient Greenwich pensioners, wheezing by the firesides of their wards; fog in the stem and bowl of the afternoon pipe of the wrathful skipper…’

Another moan filtered down through the floorboards of Lestat’s bedroom. This time it was his own, and was followed with a silky purr of, “Ma coeur…N’oublie pas tes menottes…”

Louis’ eyes went wide. Did Lestat seriously have Rowan in handcuffs up there? Knowing Lestat, it could even have possibly been the other way around. He was ready to throw the book across the room in frustration. He wondered if his body was too far from human to allow vomiting. A dry heave, perhaps. He had to stop thinking about it, as difficult as that was given the noises from Lestat’s room. He wasn’t sure if he liked the abilities that came with these new powers, that he could hear Rowan’s whispers and whimpers, that her thoughts became clear to him too easily, that he could almost see Lestat’s crystal blue eyes peeking up at her from between her…

Book. Focus on the damned book.

‘…down in his close cabin; fog cruelly pinching the toes and fingers of his shivering little ‘prentice boy on deck. Chance people on the bridges peeping over the parapets into a nether sky of fog, with fog all round them, as if they were up in a balloon, and hanging in the misty clouds.’

“Lestat! Yes…”

Louis slammed the book closed, unable to disillusion himself further into thinking he may actually get through an entire paragraph of Dickens without some orgasmic interjection shattering the atmosphere. The couch, once seeming plush and comfortable in its velvet glory, seemed like a cage. Whatever was happening upstairs between Lestat and his beloved doctor, was far too distracting. It was unfair of Lestat to invite her over tonight, when Louis was home. Lestat had probably planned in that way, taunting Louis with the idea of raw sexuality as he so often liked to do. Louis was no prude, but Lestat always took things a step or five too far.

Louis set down the book and walked to the front door. He could hear Salome lapping at the water in her bowl on the kitchen floor, and called to her. “Salome! Venir dehors avec moi, maintenant.” He whistled for the dog and she jogged to him immediately, ears perked, eyes searching for the leash that should be in his hand. He didn’t feel like walking her, but would take her out to the porch so that they could both escape the sounds of mounting excitement.

He stepped outside, taking in the familiar scent of the New Orleans night air, and sat on the wicker chair. He wanted to relax. He wanted to forget that Rowan was here. That Rowan was here and Merrick was not. She would never be here again.

Nostalgia plagued him ferociously. Memories were cruel because they held love and beauty, things he might not ever know again without their tangible presence.

Suddenly he sat up. He felt a stir in the energy, and knew immediately that another vampire was present. Not immediately close, but in an automobile, and coming this direction. Company was the last thing Louis wanted, and he sought the source of the intrusion. As it approached the block on which he and Lestat lived, he realized who exactly it was.

“Merde! J'ai pensé ils étaient dans Rome?”

Quinn and Mona’s red Corvette Z06 pulled up right in front, and Salome barked happily. The dog had great affection for Mona, a sentiment Louis could not quite understand but didn’t discourage. Louis himself was lovely and personable to ‘the children’ when they stopped by, but it ended there. It was because of Quinn’s doppelganger that Merrick had immolated herself. The wound was too new to attempt to close it.

The two young vampires got out of the car, waving happily to Louis. They must have just fed, as they looked gloriously human-like. Mona held a couple of shopping bags in her perfectly manicured little hands, and Quinn held the gate open for her as they entered. “Hey, Louis,” Quinn beamed, darting up the stairs to give Louis a hug of greeting, and a completely unwarranted, by Louis’ estimation, kiss on the cheek.

“Bonsoir, mes amis. Back from Rome so soon?” Louis asked politely.

“We loved it there, it was brilliant! Quinn showed me all the places he went when I was sick. We even went to Pompeii! But Jasmine called and said that Jerome had sprained his wrist and was in the hospital, so Quinn wanted to come back early.” She gave Louis a peck on the cheek, and hugged him tight. Her cleavage, mostly visible in her flowing sundress, pressed tight against Louis’ chest as she hugged him. It was too alluring of a sensation for him to withstand for long. The dog sniffed at the edge of her skirt and Mona bent down to hug her. “Salome! Darling! Oh, you egregiously gorgeous little girl, you…” Louis had to agree with Mona on that one, and watched with some amusement as the dog covered the redhead’s pale face with sloppy kisses.

Quinn was smiling down at Mona, as well. “You’re popping out there, Ophelia Immortal.” One of Quinn’s blue eyes shuttered closed in a quick wink at her, before smiling back up at Louis. Every time Quinn looked at Louis, there was a smile plastered on his face, an easy grin of admiration and invitation.

Mona grinned, adjusting her dress so that it more properly covered her well-shaped breasts. She shrugged, standing up and turning to Louis. “So! Where’s the Beloved Boss?”

Louis was about to direct them inside, but stopped. “He’s upstairs. But…you may want to wait a few moments. Rowan is with him.”

Mona’s gaze darkened for a moment. She was not certain she approved of Lestat’s and Rowan’s behavior on either of their parts. It was a delicate situation. “Are they…”

“Oui,” Louis answered, and couldn’t hide a grin at Mona’s expression of pure disgust.

“ ‘Why, she would hang on him, as if increase of appetite had grown by what it fed on,’ “ she quoted Hamlet disdainfully.

A wry smile appeared on Louis’ lips, and he quoted in return, “ ‘It is not, nor it cannot come to good.’ “

“ ‘There is nothing either good or bad, but thinking makes it so,’ “ added Quinn helpfully, and gave Mona a small kiss on the side of her neck. He stood back, and adopted a most pensive expression. He looked dazed for a moment, listening to something from afar. He looked wistful, then surprised. “Handcuffs?! Really?!” He turned to Louis in amazement.

Louis groaned. He didn’t want to think about it anymore. He had not even wanted to think about it in the first place.

“Tarquin Blackwood!” Mona elbowed him hard in the ribs, her shopping bags rustling as she did so. She sighed, looking disturbed, then somewhat depressed.

“What is it, Ophelia?” Quinn asked in his lazy southern drawl, appearing genuinely concerned.

“Lestat never played with us with handcuffs…” Her full lips pouted despite the playful gleam in her mesmerizing green eyes.

Louis looked as if he were about to scream. “Mon Dieu!” He could stand these two for only so long. Especially when Lestat was in the vicinity, it seemed the topic inevitably turned to sexual acts in which Louis had very little interest or experience. “S’il te plait, Madame Mayfair, if you could refrain from…”

“And they’re done,” Quinn announced suddenly, a smile crossing his face as he turned to the unlocked front door, and led Mona in. They hadn’t lived here for awhile now, but still acted as if they did. Somewhere along the line between Mortal, Ghost-Afflicted Sexually-Frustrated Adolescent and Happy-Go-Lucky Vampire, Tarquin Blackwood had lost his manners.

Louis sighed, looking down at the golden retriever, who panted under the effort of having a built-in fur coat in New Orleans. She looked back up at him, and he held the door open, heading inside after the Salome. So much for that dream of an idyllic night on the sofa with Dickens.


“Well, we didn’t run into Petronia, but Arion figured right off the bat where we were, and Mona got to meet the Old Man, which was pretty interesting.”

“He told me I was the prettiest Mayfair I’d ever seen, and we got to talking about Oncle Julien,” Mona elaborated, and Rowan was fascinated. Lestat had his arm around the woman, who, despite her hair in mild disarray, looked her usual self – interested but distant, caring but wary. Rowan was a smart woman – who wouldn’t be wary as the only mortal in a room full of vampires? Maybe wary was not the word for it. She sat with an air of absolute wonder.

Louis surveyed the scene around him, and as usual, felt left out in a way. Lestat and Rowan settled happily on the settee, the former glowing and the latter giving off the utterly female atmosphere of having just had wonderful sex. Quinn sat on a gigantic black leather chair, and Mona perched upon his knee, talking excitedly to Rowan and Lestat about all that had happened in Rome. She was talking to Louis, as well, it was supposed, but Louis was zoning in and out of the conversation. He was thinking about how things had changed since the arrival of the Mayfairs in the lives of himself and Lestat.

It seemed the beginning of a new era for Louis, a moment of shining hope, when he first laid eyes on Merrick Mayfair. Lestat likely felt very much the same way about Rowan. And Mona, well, Mona was Quinn’s, but she was Lestat’s little prodigy, his new darling girl. He had fights with her the way he had with Claudia, this is true. But they had great love for each other, sometimes expressed in ways that Claudia had never been able to express.

Louis wondered if Claudia’s spirit lingered at all, after a disturbance such as what Merrick had caused with her magic. He wondered if she would like the company of this new Coven. She’d probably hate Mona out of jealousy and Rowan for the same reason, and Quinn because Lestat doted upon him entirely. Lestat was a creature of habit, essentially. The actions and emotions never changed – the only thing that changed were the people at whom these intangibles were directed.

“And those bags, my darling. Did you honestly go shopping without me?” Lestat teased Mona.

“Only because you didn’t happen to be in Rome at the time, Beloved Boss! I’d never go without you if it were my decision. Here.” She thrust a gift bag at him. “Quinn and I really weren’t sure what to get for the vampire who has everything, so I hope you like it. I hope it’s not too egregious…”

“Oh, Mon Dieu,” Lestat laughed, pulling the authentic, very antique iron Gladiator Thracian Helmet from the bag. He turned it around in his hands, gazing at it from all sides. “This is as old as Marius! Where the hell did you get this? Did you break into a museum?” Lestat feigned delicately wiping a tear from his cheek. “You make Daddy so proud…”

“We just did some wheeling and dealing, that’s all,” Quinn said.

“Here, this one’s for you, and the glass rosary in there is for Michael,” Mona said happily, handing Rowan a bag that contained various and expensive examples of Murano glass jewelry, over which Rowan pored in delight. “It’s all handmade,” the redhead added proudly, as if she’d made them herself.

Louis did not expect a bag to be handed to him, as well. “Here you go, Louis,” Quinn said, with that usual smile, “I picked these out for you.”

Louis murmured a quick, “Merci,” almost blushing. He was quite unaccustomed to getting presents. He pulled from the bag three hardcover books of photography. One was photos of Venice, the other of Sorrento, and the third of the Amalfi Coast. He flipped through one of them, finding both black and white and color photos, and smiled over at Quinn. Maybe this boy was not so bad, after all. “Thank you, Quinn. Very much.” You could almost see Quinn’s heart rate rise in his expression, and Lestat looked all too amused at the young vampire’s crush.

Things, however, soon took a turn for the worse.

The gift did little to sate Louis’ general, incessant misery, and he soon returned to brooding. He was quiet through most of the conversation, barely listening to Mona’s vivid description of all the wonders of the Hotel Giulietta e Romeo. “And it was right across from the Arena…”

After awhile of this, the lovely Rowan eyed her watch, and gave a look of surprise. “Sorry to break this up early, but I’ve got to get to the Center. Miravelle and I have a meeting.” She rose and said goodbyes to everyone, and Lestat walked her towards the door. They shared a kiss that Mona could describe as ‘egregious’ and for once be correct. Mona and Louis exchanged a well-timed eyeroll as Rowan closed the door behind her, and Lestat returned to the couch. His lips had a trace of Rowan’s lipstick on them still, but he notice or care. He was looking about the room, at each of them in turn, and settled on Louis.

Lestat had noticed Louis’ demeanor, and stared at him, hoping Louis’ green eyes would turn his way in some recognition of the gaze. He felt Louis was closing himself off, and had done since Merrick’s suicide. It was understandable, yes, but Louis grieved in a way more involved than most. He made of melancholy a hobby, and neither David nor Lestat the Magnificent could break him of it. When Louis did at last meet his eyes, Lestat saw such quiet sorrow in them that it seemed completely wrong. Tonight was a happy night, of stories and laughter, and Louis was dampening it with his eternal moping.

Louis didn’t like being stared at, and quietly excused himself before heading upstairs.


He had mere minutes alone to sit and think before Lestat charged up the stairs with all the grace of an annoyed elephant. For a slight man, he could sure make a royal racket when he wanted to.

“Quel est mauvais, Louis?” He had his hands on his hips but despite his petulant manner, sounded gravely concerned for his Beautiful One.

“Leave me be, Lestat. Go join your friends downstairs and let me be, for at least a little while.”

“They are your friends, too, Louis,” Lestat replied gently, almost diplomatically.

It made sense to Louis, suddenly. Perhaps Lestat looked at this as his new family. That all those beings downstairs were Mayfairs, or related to Mayfairs, and Lestat was suddenly welcomed into an institution that, while having its problems, was more secure and sane than any Coven he’d lorded himself over. More loving and familial than, say, his time spent in the Auvergne with virtual strangers who just happened to share his last name.

“No, they are not. They are your friends and your lovers that you have more or less forced on me.” His tone was calm but these words were more acidic than the ones Louis would normally opt for, and that meant only one thing.

“You’re upset with me,” Lestat sighed, sitting himself down upon the edge of the bed, beside Louis.


“Yes, you are! You’re only this sulky when you’re upset with me!”

“Ever the Narcissus, aren’t you. Just as all worship and love revolves around you, so must all the pain and anger. Is that so?” He looked at Lestat evenly. He knew Lestat believed the world revolved around his halo of golden hair.

“That is not true…”

Louis was in no mood for argument. “Please, Lestat, can we just discuss this later? Your friends are downstairs and are, no doubt, waiting for your return so they can continue to worship at your gilded altar of self-involvement. Leave me alone.”

That one kind of stung, and Lestat stood with a look of surprise. “What was that for?”

“For being yourself,” Louis spat back.

Lestat really felt hurt now, and merely turned, wordless, and walked back downstairs. It was so unlike Louis to be volatile, and when Lestat hadn’t even provoked him! He was merely showing concern. Mon Dieu. Fledglings can be so difficult.

Lestat returned to the convivial family scene downstairs, but was restless with worry, and less than twenty minutes passed before he darted upstairs once more, not bothering to knock on Louis’ bedroom door before entering.

Louis was sitting where he had before, right on the edge of the bed, staring off at nothing whatsoever.

“If you’re going to insult me, Louis, I at least want a good reason why,” Lestat began, not necessarily on the right foot, as mortals say.

“You will not leave me alone, Lestat, and so I have made a decision,” he said without life in his voice.

“Oh? And that is?” Lestat’s haughty tone hid the fact that he was quite curious, and on top of that very worried.

Louis swallowed. As it was with all his important decisions, he needed a bit of time to build up the confidence to voice them to a party as judgmental and difficult to please as Lestat. “I’m going to move out.”

Lestat’s face fell. “What!”

“Our flat is constantly invaded, Lestat, by your friends, when I need time to think on my own. It will not be for long. Just for awhile. There is so much that I cannot say to you, that I cannot say to anyone! I need time to think and to…”

“To mope?”

Louis said nothing.

He looked at Lestat, whose blue eyes were almost scornful. “So, you’re going to be the first to break up what’s left of the Troop of Beloveds?”

What’s left of the Troop of Beloveds. Louis hated the way that sounded. “No. Merrick started that. I am unable to follow her, so I will go somewhere that I can at least think of her in peace. You don’t need such a measure. You’re already over her.” His eyes were cold.

Lestat realized that perhaps he’d not been paying Louis enough attention during this difficult time, but what was done couldn’t really be undone. “I’m not ‘already over her’, Louis. But I thrive. I continue on with this life, whatever this life may be. I don’t need to sit about whimpering and reading depressing poetry or Dickens all fucking night. Go out. Make friends. Find someone or something that will bring you happiness, Louis.” He said this sincerely, and Louis saw what may have been the flash of moisture in the Brat’s eyes as he added in a murmur, “Even if I’m not that someone.”

Louis rarely drew true emotion from Lestat these days, but did not care to encourage its appearance at the moment. No, Lestat was not the one who made him happy lately, and neither were his tawdry, sarcastic friends, or his standoffish lover. So the Beautiful One stood, pressed a kiss to Lestat’s cold cheek, and headed downstairs.

Salome would stay here, for now, anyway, until given express permission from Louis’ new housemate that the dog was indeed allowed. He assumed there would be no problems, but had not yet requested if he himself could stay there. Well. He doubted he’d be turned away. You never knew with someone like Daniel, but Louis had a good feeling about this.


Louis was near to tears as he found himself on the doorstep of the lavish Metairie house. He wasn’t sure why the pink-tinged saltwater stood in his eyes, but the feeling was monumental. It wasn’t the first time he’d left Lestat, and there was no larger sense of finality than there’d been any other time. Perhaps it wasn’t just because he was leaving his maker – it’s that he was leaving his maker for another vampire. A lesser vampire by any and all standards, but maybe that was part of Daniel’s appeal. He was not very well-adjusted, nor did he seem to care for most of his powers. He was almost as weak physically as Louis had once been, and as weak emotionally as Louis remained. In their fragility, they understood each other.

He found he didn’t need to knock; the door flew open as soon as he raised his fist. Daniel’s eyes were wide and he smiled. “I sensed somebody out here. I wasn’t sure but I hoped it would be you.” He held the door open for Louis, who entered the well-furnished foyer with a glum expression.

“Lestat and I had a quarrel.” Louis was blunt. “I wish to remain with him no longer.”

Daniel took this in, unsurprised by it. In fact, he may have even looked uncharacteristically pleased. “You can stay here, no problem,” he offered, swiping away blond strands that had fallen like a curtain across his youthful face.

“I hope it would not be a bother,” Louis said with guilt in his voice. He hated having to depend on others for anything. He could just as easily have slept deep in the earth as the daylight lingered. But he liked spending time with Daniel and hoped to learn more about the man who knew everything about him.

“You know you’re not a bother. Marius had all the bedrooms sun-proofed, heavy curtains, the works. There’s more than enough space for us both,” he shrugged. He was wearing khaki pants with countless pockets, and a plain back cotton tee. He had little taste for fancy clothes, because he had nobody to dress for. The days of Armand using him as a pampered Ken doll were over, and it showed.

“Thank you, Daniel.” They entered the living room, sitting down on couches that faced each other.

“So, what was the fight about?”

“Lestat was just being Lestat,” Louis sighed. “Maybe we are at last outgrowing each other. He is so ensconced in the Mayfair clan that he has little time for me, which isn’t exactly a problem, but…Je ne sais pas. It is difficult for me to hear the name Mayfair, or hear them speak of Oncle Julien, without thinking of Merrick.” He felt animosity towards Quinn, as well, for the situation which drew Merrick to the flames, but wouldn’t admit such unreasonable hate to any other than his own pitiless conscience.

“What about David? Doesn’t he still live with you guys?”

“Technically, he does, yes. But he’s been traveling. He wants to clear his head as I intend to do mine.”

Daniel nodded. All this he could comprehend. He noticed how lethargic, how sallow Louis suddenly appeared. “Do you need to feed?” he asked.

“Yes, soon. Would you…care to join me?” It was an offer Louis seldom made to anyone, but felt such closeness with Daniel that it seemed only natural that they should share the hunt.

Louis had always felt responsible for Daniel’s damnation, as it were. It was his own audacity in telling his story that had snared the impressionable journalist. Daniel had been through hell and back, and what did he have to show for it? Loneliness. An empty hole in his psyche where his vision of the world had once stood. Daniel was a being haunted by his present as surely as by his tumultuous past. And it was Louis that had unknowingly drawn him into it. Daniel Molloy might as well have been his own tragic fledgling.

Daniel was quiet. He was looking at Louis, at green eyes that seemed at once to nourish and rupture his very soul. Louis’ gaze was too strong, too searching. He wondered at it but couldn’t journey far into Louis’ thoughts. He felt only the melancholy settled comfortably there, and the regret.

“We were happy once, weren’t we, Daniel?” Louis asked, innocuously.

“I guess we must’ve been, or else we wouldn’t miss it so much now,” Daniel replied.

Louis nodded. “Let us hunt,” he said after a moment, standing and taking Daniel’s hand, urging him up from the couch.

Daniel followed.


Daniel didn’t care that Louis watched in utter fascination, from a distance, as he fed. There wasn’t much that was overly private about Daniel. He was an infamous recluse, yes, but he didn’t attempt to hide anything.

There was something altogether sensual about Daniel’s kill. He had a teenage runaway, of which there were many in New Orleans, cradled in his arms. None of his deep-seated vengeance showed through in his movements. It was as if he were counting on the subtle poetry of Armand’s caresses, and trying to imitate them as best as he could recall them.

Louis could see the color flood Daniel’s face and hands, and almost feel the heated bliss as it filled the vampire’s famished form. Daniel was savoring it, tasting the girl’s soul, her secrets. He was still, as he’d once deemed himself, ‘a collector of lives.’

Daniel pulled back, healthy, satisfied. He licked his lips, and closed the wound as had to be done.

He returned to Louis, looking refreshed and appearing the vibrant young man that he’d been that first night. Louis recalled how compelling he’d found the boy, how attractive, how subtly delectable.

Warm and full of hot blood, Daniel stood beside Louis patiently. And they were taking stock of each other, Daniel eyeing the elder vampire, who had already fed. Louis’ very skin seemed to pulse with the life shimmering underneath it, and a light curiosity made itself present in his classical features and green eyes.

“What?” asked Daniel.

“Do you ever resent me?”

They began to walk, Louis’ hands settled in the pockets of his black pants, his hair shifting in the breeze only to settle again upon his dark green sweater.

“Why would I resent you?”

“For what I could have done, and for what I did not do. I should have known your curiosity would lead you to no other possible path but to seek out the others.”

Daniel shrugged in his oh-so-casual, human way. “I don’t know. Maybe you figured you’d scared me off, threatening to kill me and all.” He glanced sideways at Louis, smiling.

“Did I manage to frighten you?”

“At the time, yeah. It was a pretty neat trick. But I can understand why you did it.”

“It was supposed to teach you a lesson…”

“I’m a slow learner,” came Daniel’s reply, and he chuckled.

Louis looked at him and grinned. He felt great love for Daniel, and felt protective over the younger vampire. His responsibility. His friend.

“I admire how gentle you were with that girl,” Louis said softly. “I know it is not my place to comment, and if I’ve been too bold in doing so, I apologize. But it was striking to see something so brutal done with such self-control, and such delectation and care. Lestat doesn’t have that tact; nor does Armand. Even I do not. It is…it’s something I abhor so entirely that I refuse to romanticize it. Not to say you romanticize it. But you make it…I don’t know…sensual. Almost acceptable.”

Daniel winced at the mention of his maker, whose existence seemed little more than a dream to him now, but accepted the strange compliment in stride. “There’s no point in making it vulgar or making them suffer. The ones I choose, have already suffered enough. I like to hold them and see inside their memories. I look for their darkest moments.”

“Why? We are full enough of dark moments, aren’t we?”

“Because I like being sure I’m doing them a mercy.”

“Admirable, indeed.”

They were silent for awhile. These new revelations made Louis all the more curious about Daniel, and when they reached the sprawling suburb that was Metairie, Louis said calmly, “I want to ask you a question, Daniel. You do not have to answer if you don’t want to.”

“Shoot,” Daniel obliged.

“When you were mortal, why did you want this so badly? What did you hope immortality would give you? Why did the price of so many lives seem wor-“

“Armand,” Daniel cut in, simply. “It was all for him. It was all I wanted out of this, Armand and I, together forever.” The words were spoken sardonically, as if he bitterly regretted his earlier, destructive dreams.

“And now that it’s not what you’d hoped?” Louis’ question came in the most reverent murmur.

“Eventually I’ll have to find something else to hope for.”

“What if you cannot?”

Daniel didn’t answer. He went inside the house.


Upon stepping inside, Louis decided to leave Daniel for awhile, for fear of having upset him. He decided to examine the contents of the inevitable library Marius would’ve set up, and found such a room quickly. He discovered one treasure which appealed to him immensely, and caused him to nearly collapse in laughter upon examination.

It was a set of The Vampire Chronicles, in order, well-thumbed and with comments added, in red ink, by nearly every vampire who’d ever set foot in this estate. Every vampire except Lestat, of course. If he knew about this, he’d be furious, and rightly so – some of the added notes were quite merciless. Louis took great pleasure in sifting through the tattered copies, almost howling with laughter at some of the Coven’s additions:

“…Rules, rules, rules. They always wind up talking about rules. And I love to break the rules the way mortals like to smash their crystal glasses after a toast against the bricks of the fireplace.”

(‘And it is comments such as that, impertinent child, that make me want to toast YOU in the fireplace. –MdR’)

Somewhat caustic of Marius, Louis figured, but it seemed to be all in fun.

“ ‘You’re not mortal? Which planet are you from?”
“Venus,” I answered, smiling at her again. “The planet of love.’ “

( ‘Lestat, you really are the sleaziest son of a bitch. –A.’)

Armand. Naturally.

“My eyes are grey, but they absorb the colors blue or violet easily from surfaces around them. And I have a fairly short narrow nose, and a mouth that is well shaped but just a little too big for my face.”

(‘But just perfect for sucking cock!’) One immortal editor had written.

Thankfully, they did not credit themselves, though Louis suspected Quinn.

“I’m the Vampire Lestat. Remember me?“

(‘How can we forget you if you won’t go away?’ –Pandora.)

Louis had always known there was a reason he liked her.

He wiped veritable tears of laughter from his eyelids as he closed Lestat’s biography, forging onward to the copy of Interview with the Vampire. He approached this solemnly, worried at the potential for scathing commentary.

Instead he found quite the opposite. Louis was not made the subject of any derision whatsoever. It was Lestat they poked fun at yet again. When notes relating to Louis did appear, they were complimentary, and more often than not in Daniel’s own hand.

Beneath the title on the inside cover, Daniel had written:

(or, The Last Time I Try To Pick Up a Tall, Dark + Brooding Type in San Francisco!) –D.M.

Louis sped through the little notes, surprised at just how flattering they were. The words ‘gorgeous’ and ‘sexy’ appeared so many times, that he was too humble to keep count. ‘Alluring.’ ‘Beautiful.’ There were Daniel’s comments on his lips, his eyes, his body (some of which made Louis blush a most heated scarlet.)

He was amused, and powerfully intrigued. He knew others thought of him this way, but why he couldn’t fathom. And nobody had said so in such obvious terms as Daniel used. There it was, spelled out in simple words, Daniel’s overtly sexual fascination with Louis. Daniel was not shy. Daniel was honest and hid nothing.

He smirked to himself, and left the library, book in hand.


He found Daniel lying on the couch. He had his eyes closed, and was lost in the music playing quietly from his headphones. He wanted to drown himself in music, in the mix CD he’d found in the home of one of his victims and taken for no other reason than curiosity, and to not have to think. Thinking hurt too much.

'Are you blind
Blind to me trying to be kind
Volunteering for your firing line
Waiting for one precious sign
The flicker of a smile
You should try it just once in a while
Maybe it's not quite your style
It's simply too easy to do
And you might not see it through
See it through

Ooh, so
Find yourself another place to fall
Find yourself up against another brick wall
See yourself as a fallen angel
Well I don't see no holes in the road but you
Find another place to fall...'

The phrase ‘fallen angel’ seemed to startle Daniel’s concentration, and the words of the song after that hypnotized him so utterly that he didn’t see Louis standing in the doorway.

'Are you proud
To have founded a brand new behavior
With hatred and hurt as your savior
But nobody's choosing to follow
So you choke back the tears and you swallow
Men who have ruined your life
You consume them with minimum strife
But now you have got indigestion
The antacid comes as a question

Ooh, so
Find yourself another place to fall…'

Louis watched Daniel in his state of wallowing. For a moment he wondered whether this was the right time for his barely hatched plan, but imagined it might just be. It would be a way of apology to Daniel, it would be a way of cheering the both of them, and it would be, for once, true honesty with his own desires and that of his housemate’s. Daniel’s pure openness was something Louis had found in no other vampire, and knew that it would serve to bring them ever closer.

Daniel took off his headphones, noticing Louis standing there. “What’s up?”

Louis smiled. “Rien. Just doing a bit of reading in Marius’ library.”

“Oh, yeah? Anything interesting?”

Louis shrugged, stepping closer to the couch. And before Daniel knew it, Louis was standing before him, leaning down, his lips merely inches from his own. Daniel gasped, and Louis murmured the words, “A few things, yes. Apparently you find me sexy. And alluring. And gorgeous.”

Daniel licked his lips. His cheeks flushed a most becoming shade. “Oh. Um. That. I…” He chuckled nervously.

“Ne pas s'inquiéter. Il peut venir comme une surprise, Daniel, mais je pense pareil de vous.”

Daniel closed his eyes for a moment, trying to break down Louis’ rapid French word by word. The language had always been sexy to him, and Armand spoke it often, but Daniel always had a bit of trouble understanding it when spoken. He looked up at Louis, able to move only slightly without clumsily knocking his face into the elder vampire’s. “Come again?”

“I said not to worry,” Louis replied, hushed, his lips near to Daniel’s ear. “And that I think the same of you.”

Louis’ breath was warm against his ear, making him shiver. What had come over Louis, to seduce him in this way? Not that he was complaining, of course. This was something he wouldn’t have argued with since the first night he encountered the one with the emerald eyes. Looking at him now, Daniel understood better than ever the nickname Beautiful One.

Louis could hear the surprise in Daniel’s thoughts as if he’d spoken them aloud, and Louis stood up straight for a moment, peering down at him. “What? Do you think me such a prude that you never imagined me doing this?”

“Doing what?”

Louis was on him in less than a second, pushing Daniel to the couch with the weight of his body, straddling the blond, incredulous vampire. Their lips met in a long overdue kiss. It was like nothing Daniel had ever known, and he was reeling, drunk on lust and drunk on power. There was something about being able to have Louis in a way Armand never got around to, that seemed amazingly powerful.

Pulling away from the electric kiss, Louis held Daniel’s chin tight between thumb and forefinger, gazing into the violet orbs. “And is that it, mon ami? You think this so rich because you are having something Armand could not have? Is that why I was interesting to you from the beginning?”

Daniel shook his head as best as he could in Louis’ grasp, and murmured, “No, Louis. I wanted this the night we met, when Armand was nothing more than a name in a story.”

Louis nodded, satisfied enough with that answer, and trailed his fingernails teasingly down Daniel’s long neck. “Alors. Why not forget about Armand for the evening, then?”

And it was then, as Louis watched the expression of sweet pleasure slide over Daniel’s features and calm them, that he decided he would be gentle. He would not toy with Daniel as he’d been toyed with before. He knew many things about the way Armand had treated him, and it had since been ingrained in Daniel that pleasure meant the pain with it, and that the two were helplessly intertwined. Louis would change that.

His fingertips that lingered on Daniel’s neck began to move downward, tracing the collar of his shirt. He helped impatient Daniel pull the offending fabric away, and took great delight in running his hands all over Daniel’s pale chest. This skin had never seen the sun since his creation, unlike Louis’ own. Daniel had been stronger than anyone had ever expected him to be, lasted longer than most imagined he would. Strong, brave, patient Daniel. Louis loved him, loved every inch of him.

Daniel had not been touched in this way by another vampire in years. Marius had been his most recent companion, but they did not have this sort of relationship. In a mortal way, Daniel found it almost incestuous, but more than that, knew that Armand would kill him out of jealousy. But it had been decades since he’d felt this, since he’d languished under the torturously sensuous ministrations of another vampire. And Louis was so careful to leave no skin untouched by his hands, or his tongue. It made Daniel’s eyes go wide, to feel Louis’ tongue flick daringly across his nipple, but how he loved the sensation, the shiver…He’d missed this.

Louis tore away the rest of Daniel’s clothing with an almost human-like urgency, as if they didn’t have the rest of eternity stretched out before them during which to ravish the boy. But he’d missed this, too, and didn’t consider it to be encroaching on the memory of Merrick. A woman, yes, would be something of a betrayal – probably the reason he didn’t give into Quinn’s flirtations as he knew it would end up a threesome with the redhead. But a male vampire? When was the last time Louis had given into any of the others? He couldn’t recall, which probably meant it was high time to do so now.

He loved the sight of Daniel’s slim body utterly bare, his hard cock like a beacon from some forgotten mortal memories. It was the one sign of human lust that they as vampires still could fathom, and it was not an entirely useless organ. It still had great potential for sensation, as every inch of a vampire’s skin did, and when Louis tentatively let his fingers massage the tip, Daniel moaned gratefully.

The lust built up in Daniel in great shivers, his body wracked with them. He could see the desire intensifying in Louis, but it was caged for now, silent. Daniel could smell the blood that sped through Louis’ body, the racing of a deadened heart.

Louis found himself now at the mercy of a lustful being whose violet eyes sparkled in what little moonlight poured in through the windows. There were electric lights all over the house but none of them were on – when illumination was necessary, both Louis and Daniel preferred candles. But not a single candle was lit. They had only themselves and the precious moonlight.

Daniel’s hands were not so careful in removing Louis’ clothing. He was tired of careful. He had no choice but to take great care in creating the little houses and little trees, but now he wanted something purely animal, something driven by a factor other than boredom and depression. When he saw Louis’ legs, his arms, his chest, uncovered by restricting styles of old, Daniel drew in a soft gasp of admiration. Louis’ black hair fell in rich curls to his naked shoulders, and his green eyes stood out in an expression of forced confidence.

“You’re beautiful, Louis,” Daniel whispered to him, covering the elder vampire’s hair and neck with worshipful kisses. He let his teeth scrape gently across the skin just below Louis’ ear, which earned a gasp.

The idea had not yet really occurred to Louis that this potent bout of lust would lead them, inevitably, to drinking each other’s blood.

It had in the past seemed to him a depraved thing to do, or at least, something he told himself he did not want.

Now he wanted it more than anything else in the world.

He moved so that they switched places somewhat, Louis sitting on the couch and Daniel above him. He drew Daniel close, and kissed at the hollow of his collarbone. His fingers once again played with Daniel’s nipples, and at this the ashen-haired vampire gasped, cursing under his breath. “Fuck! Louis….don’t tease…”

“Que’st-ce que tu veux, mon chere?” He whispered against Daniel’s ear, amused at his new lover’s impatience. He was unsurprised at the request that followed.

“I want you in me…”

Louis smiled, and kissed Daniel fiercely. The act itself was inexpressibly intimate. They were solidifying their relationship, their trust. Louis was escaping from Lestat and into the love of a new lover, companion…might as well have been a new fledgling. Daniel would never go so far as to say Louis was his new master as Armand had once been, but Louis was a friend and that was enough to become something just as important as his Maker.

And when Daniel felt Louis enter him, the tight pressure of it, the feeling of being so enjoyably, sinfully stretched, he cried Louis’ name so loud that it probably could have been heard at the flat on Royal.

Daniel’s hands gripped the back of the couch, Louis’ shoulders, Louis’ hair, anything he could reach. They had conjured a slow, rocking rhythm that built exponentially, Louis’ thrusting all the more fervent, Daniel’s pleasured cries all the more agonizing in his need for true release. Blood sweat slicked both of their chests, their foreheads. Its scent was intoxicating.

“Let me, Louis,” Daniel panted, leaning down to rest his lips at the curve of Louis’ neck.

“Only if you let me,” came Louis’ breathless, eager consent, and at the same time, they sank their fangs into each other’s willing necks.

They soared. The pleasure stirred Louis like no other had before. He tasted the blood, smelled it, felt it charge down his throat. He was trembling, pleasure overwhelming his senses, and could feel the tug of Daniel’s thirst. It excited him all the more, to know that Daniel was feeling the same gratification; that they were one in this burst of inestimable desire that would fill them, satisfy them both. The peak of the pleasure was dizzying, and left them both limp and winded.

They were like two mortal lovers, curled up together on the couch, enjoying the afterglow. They said nothing because there was nothing to be said, nothing that could sum up the perfection of what just occurred.

They were silent for hours, stroking each other’s hair, kisses of appreciation and adoration being randomly place on each other’s upper bodies. The sky was lightening.

“We should probably retire soon,” whispered Louis to Daniel, whose eyes were half-closed anyway.

“Your coffin or mine?” Daniel joked, and Louis rolled his eyes.

“As long as you are with me, Daniel, I do not care where we sleep,” Louis replied, his green eyes alert and his voice earnest.

Daniel sleepily searched Louis’ face. “You really mean that, don’t you?” His voice was full of wonder.

“Oui. I do.”

Daniel said nothing, but led Louis to one of the first-floor bedrooms that Marius had diligently sun-proofed. The bed was a queen size, and done up in dark green velvet.

“Thought you’d like this room. Matches your eyes.”

Louis smiled. “Do you think me so vainglorious that I would like a room because it goes with my eyes?”

“No,” Daniel said, sliding naked into bed and gesturing Louis to join him. “But that’s why I like it.”


Part Three is in the works! Let me know what you thought of this one!

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Comments {8}


(no subject)

from: x_x_sickgrrl
date: May. 8th, 2006 06:21 pm (UTC)

yippie skippie! this was awesome this made my day :)

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(no subject)

from: kahvi_elf
date: May. 8th, 2006 10:51 pm (UTC)

"He felt a stir in the energy..."
Well young Padawan it must be Darth Quinn approaching *smirks*

Nice sequel, I like the idea with the comments in the books very much. And Louis and Daniel... hmmm ^_^

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(no subject)

from: xnakedbunnyx
date: May. 9th, 2006 12:14 am (UTC)

Comments: LOL! I love the little comments the other vampires made regarding Lestat's words. Muhahaha! I didn't know you were going to make the sequel slash, but yay just the same! What a fun story!

Criticism: If we're going to take from the QotD book and say that vampires are erect 24/7, does that still mean that their genitals are more sensitive than the rest of their bodies? There are emotional reasons for wanting vampire sex (Pandora did it) but physically it didn't do any good.

I personally like to pretend to ignore all of that and say that it all works just like everyone else's does, but you started to mention it and didn't really seem to differentiate between the skin on a penis and the skin on say, Daniel's tummy. "...It was the one sign of human lust that they as vampires still could fathom, and it was not an entirely useless organ. It still had great potential for sensation, as every inch of a vampire’s skin did..."

Some of your words were misspelled as well, but that could just be because spell checker missed them.

Is there any way that you could perhaps translate all of the French? Most of it is translated directly in the story but a few goes unknown to those who didn't study French.

Speaking of French, did they ever really speak it in the books? I'm not arguing here, I'm just asking. I don't recall them saying more than a few little words. Maybe they did in IwtV but not in the modern settings.

Can't wait for part 3!

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(no subject)

from: keep_this_scene
date: May. 9th, 2006 08:25 pm (UTC)

The sex bits, I'm not so clear on either, to be honest. LOL The way I see it, the vampires like sex because of the intimacy of it, and there is pleasurable sensation involved the same way there is when they're touched in anyway. But the sex isn't truly anything to them until there's blood involved.

As for the French, I think translations can mess up the flow of a story. I think if anyone really wants to know, they can go to freetranslation.com and have fun figuring it out themselves. I don't mean that to seem rude to the reader, I guess I'm just fond of linguistics myself. And I don't think they use it much in daily modern conversation, but I could see them slipping easily back into the mother tongue during times of any extreme emotion. I think Louis and Lestat using it amongst themselves would be kind of an intimacy thing, an attempt by Lestat to draw Louis back to when they were happy or something. Louis I could imagine slipping into it here and there, conversationally.

That, or I might just be a pretentious git who has no other place to use their minute French talents. ;-)

(If you wanna email me as to the spelling errors, drop me a line at BTrouFreelance@yahoo.com and I'll fix the text immediately! Thanks!)

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(no subject)

from: xnakedbunnyx
date: May. 9th, 2006 09:55 pm (UTC)

No, you're right, tanslations can really mess up the flow.

As for the sex thing, meh, sex is sex and sex is fun. At least you're remembering some of the basics about AR Vampire Physical Intamacy 101... or something like that.

Spelling, spelling, spelling, sure, I'll check it over. I could have just read something wrong, but it doesn't hurt to check again and again.

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(no subject)

from: xnakedbunnyx
date: May. 9th, 2006 09:59 pm (UTC)


Oops, herm, maybe I'm not the one who should be checking your spelling, ::embarrassed laughter::

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(no subject)

from: carapheonix
date: Jan. 23rd, 2008 03:47 am (UTC)

O.O Part three? *hopefull eyes; wibbles bottom lip* You linky linky, yes?

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(no subject)

from: hallowstranger
date: Oct. 3rd, 2010 01:31 am (UTC)

I love coming back to this story! You write Daniel and Louis so well, and I love that you have them trying to move beyond their heartbreak and into a better future.
THAT being said: when will part three be up? You are still writing it, right? I cannot wait until I know what happens next!

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