a funeral party
A Vampire Chronicles story by _Twi_ (mailto:[EMAIL PROTECTED]) , May 1998.
Number one in the Cure trilogy  and the "Le Coeur" series.
Rated PG.



"I didn't think it would end like this," Lestat murmured.  
"Like what?" his companion asked, stroking an errant lock of heavy gold  from 
Lestat's face.  
"This," he said, turning his head in an attempt to gesture toward his  
surroundings. "This attic. The chains. You."  
"Oh, Lestat," said Louis, wrapping his slender arms around himself, "it  
hasn't ended. Nothing has."  
"That's the worst part. Everything has changed...and yet, there is no  end, 
no sense of closure to tell me it's over. Everything just goes on."  
"That's how life is, Lestat. Nothing really ends."  
"I'm so hungry," Lestat moaned under his breath. "It's driving me mad."   
"A short trip," Louis quipped.  
A pale ghost of a smile crossed Lestat's face. "Do you really think me  mad? 
Am I crazy? Misunderstood? Any of those things that humans debate  endlessly? 
They judge and lock away the ones who offend their  sensibilities, the 
different people. I was thought mad as a mortal."  
"'Judge and lock away...' Do you comment on humans, or something else  
entirely?" Louis said, eyebrow raised.  
"I'm not all that sure. I know I'm hungry. How long do I have to be  here?"  
"I don't know."  
"I thought not."  
They sat in silence, lost in their respective worlds, staring into  blank 
space and candlelight.  
"I feel cold," Lestat complained quietly, "and I'm hungry."  
"Oh, for God's sake--"  
"What for?"  
"--if you're so hungry," Louis held his arm out to Lestat, eyes a flash  of 
impatient green, and swiftly rolled up the sleeve, "here."  
Bright-eyed hunger on the pale face, blue eyes wide and intense, but he  
resisted. "No, I can't, Louis," he said, turning away.  
"Then just be quiet about how damn hungry you are."  
"Can I, can I see Dora? She'll take care of me. She'll feed me..."  
"No, she won't, Lestat. She's gone."  
"Where did she go?"  
"No one knows..." He shrugs. "All we know is she's gone. And good  riddance, 
I think."  
"...she had the veil..."  
"And it went with her. You're the only one who believes in her now,  Lestat. 
Her human followers have long forgotten."  
"But I haven't been here that long. It's only been...a week? Two?"  
"Five months, Lestat. An eternity to some mortals."  
"Damn." Lestat hung his head, the weariness in his eyes sharp and  defeated 
and heartbreaking. A lost child, a tired man on the verge of  giving up.  
"I'm sorry, Lestat." Louis' fingers were tentative, restrained as they  
touched his face, learning the curves and planes like a blind man reading  
Braille. 
Lestat's distracted eyes followed them, tongue creeping out for a  second as 
they skated deftly across his lips. Their eyes met, the look a  blade-sharp 
kiss between them, and then Louis leaned back, closing his  eyes.  
"Well. That is comforting." Lestat cursed the biting snap of his  words, 
wanted to rewind the tape and delete them.  
Louis rested his chin on his drawn-up knees, flicking a hand carelessly  
through messy black locks. "Don't. Don't say that. I hate when you talk to  me 
like that. It's like listening to...a falling sky...the death of  love..."  
"A wounded vampire."  
"Yes."  
Lestat shrugged. "I wonder why I even bother talking, sometimes. It  seems 
everytime I open my mouth my foot goes in. Or I earn another enemy.  And when I 
try to apologise I make it worse."  
"You exaggerate."  
"Louis." A wistful smile. "You've known me for more than two centuries  now. 
You know me better than anyone. Do I?"  
"A little."  
"Feh. I try, I really do. No one understands what I'm saying, like I'm  
speaking a foreign language, and everything ends up getting  misinterpreted. 
People 
get excited or offended at the stupidest things. No  one understands."  
"I don't think anyone really understands anyone, to tell the truth.  Even 
people who think they know everything about someone really know only  what they 
will admit to themselves; they rationalise or ignore what they  can't accept, 
be it good or bad."  
A half-amused grin flickered across Lestat's lips. "Everyone likes to  hold 
onto their illusions, Louis."  
"It's a coping mechanism. I'm sure of it. The mind has a hard time  dealing 
with the totality of being and beings. So they - we - shut out the  important 
things to keep from going mad."  
The grin got wider. "That's right. To keep from going mad. But let me  ask 
you this: Is madness such a bad thing?"  
Silence. Echoes in the attic.  
"I thought so. I'm hungry."  
"Oh, shut up."  

 (http://star.less.as/) 





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