Decay
© Persephone & Siren
degas.ballerina@gmail.com
Spoilers: Interview with the Vampire
Rating: PG
Status: Complete
Characters: Lestat, Louis & Claudia
Summary: Claudia has something to show both Louis and Lestat.
The night was young and smelt of death.
It wasn't their first stroll through the St. Louis cemetery, but it was the first time that Louis accompanied them. Claudia and Lestat walked ahead, hand-in-hand, appearing as ghosts through the heavy fog. Occasionally Louis heard Claudia's laugh, a bell-like sound that cut through the air like a knife. It made him shiver, but not from the cold. Often, she looked over her shoulder at him. Her pearly-white teeth caught the moonlight, along with her golden hair, but only when she smiled.
"And why, my dear, must you insist we go to the graveyard? Are you trying to make Louis uncomfortable?
"I want to show him something." Claudia's voice was patient, lilting.
"I'm not uncomfortable." Louis' arms were loosely folded.
"Of course you're not!" Lestat laughed, turning his head. "You're only walking ten feet behind us. Don't worry, Louis, there's no one around. We're not hunting here tonight. You should, however..."
Louis ignored this. "What do you want to show me, Claudia?"
"Something." There was a mysterious quality to Claudia's voice, but her attention seemed to be elsewhere. She released Lestat's hand and went ahead. Her dress briefly caught the side of a tombstone, fluttered, and then fell back into place.
Louis slowed his step, but Lestat had paused to wait for him, and soon they walked side by side. Claudia's small form was visible on the path ahead for a few moments, but then she turned and disappeared into the heavy mist.
"It wasn't my idea to come here!" Lestat smirked, his mood hardly dampened by their surroundings.
"I don't mind."
"Of course you don't! Do you remember our first days in the city, Louis? You always wound up in the cemetery."
Louis' shoulders lifted, but it was the only response he gave. Condensation had gathered on the ends of his hair, but he didn't notice until Lestat lifted his hand and brushed it away.
"You're like a statue. You could pose and no one would know the difference! Do you want a black robe, Louis?"
Again, Louis was silent, but he didn't take offense to the comment. He turned the corner, following the direction Claudia had gone. He could hear the soft rustle of her cape against the overgrown grass.
Lestat's voice grew quieter. "I don't know how she stands the smell."
"It isn't that noticeable."
"You would say that." Lestat's eyes gleamed, his brief seriousness forgotten. "It's only because there are inches of concrete slab between us and the dearly departed. If they were buried underground and surrounded by damp soil, you would notice it more. Especially..."
Louis finally glanced at Lestat, frowning. "What?"
Shrugging, Lestat didn't answer the question, but his amused expression remained. "Be glad that that you aren't obsessed with death, Louis! Morbidly fascinated, perhaps, but not obsessed."
"Here." Claudia's soft voice penetrated the air, and Louis was surprised to hear her so close. She'd gone between two mausoleums and was standing by a columned temple on the other side of the walkway.
Both Louis and Lestat stopped walking at the same time, but neither of them looked at each other. The shock that Louis felt wasn't because he was looking at his own grave, but that despite its close proximity, he hadn't considered the possibility of Claudia discovering it.
Lestat bristled, but then he stepped past the graves to join Claudia. "Do you pride yourself on ruining your silk cloak? There are pathways for a reason, my dear."
One of Claudia's pale hands lifted to the side of her hood. She pulled it down and the shadows left her face, the full moon setting it alight. Her eyes found Lestat briefly, but then she looked past him. "Louis, come here and see."
Louis joined them after only the slightest pause, his eyes lifting to the familiar marble tomb. His name was etched on the front, as well as the year and date of his birth. The grave was over half a century old.
"Look," whispered Claudia. Her delicate hand moved to touch the letters of his first name, but they ignored the rest, except to linger on the curve of the 'd'.
"Do you know how many men have Louis' name! What is this graveyard called, Claudia?" Lestat scoffed. He brushed the front of his coat and gave the hanging moss a doubtful glance. "I'm sure that I can find ten other gravestones with Louis' name on them!"
The fact that Claudia had found his actual grave could not be a coincidence, but Louis had never told her his surname. All of his accounts were under false names. She only knew to call him Louis, and Lestat was just Lestat.
Immediately, Louis began to think of all of the places his full name was written, but there weren't many. Old documents, perhaps, but few were saved from the fire. They were also stored under lock and key, the majority kept in safe deposit boxes. There was the picture of his sister, which Claudia had seen, but the writing was on the back of the frame.
"He was twenty-five." Claudia looked at Louis and reached out her hand. "That's the age that others would think you were, Louis."
Louis took Claudia's hand with both of his, hiding it between them, as though to spare it from the cold. "Yes."
"There are children's graves too. I've seen them."
A few feet away, Lestat seemed to be preoccupied with looking at a neglected tombstone. He called back to them, an edge to his voice. "I've had enough of this place."
Slowly, Claudia looked at Lestat. They stared at each other, the tension only mounting with the silence, and a scowl replaced Lestat's impatient expression. Louis pressed Claudia's hand to try to get her attention, but her gaze never wavered.
"You can wait for us by the gate," she finally replied, simply, as though placating a child. Her light eyes shone and then flashed, but the emotion in them was indiscernible.
Lestat laughed and shook his head, appearing amused by her tone. "You don't belong here." He offered his own hand. It hung in the air expectantly, but Claudia did not move.
The longer Claudia remained still, the more narrowed Lestat's eyes became. Soon he was glaring, his fingers curled, and then his hand dropped back to his side. "Fine! Hunt alone tonight, then! I have plans anyway." He shot Louis a look, but there was a warning behind his anger, even faint fear. "Spend your evening with the dead! Move in, if you must!"
"We won't be here long, Lestat." Louis' grip on Claudia's hand was firm.
Claudia spoke impassively, unsmiling. "Sixty years, at most."
The End