✱ a world without love

"A surprise?" Lestat tilted his head in curiosity as Samir guided him to the living room and the first thing that caught his eye were the colored pencils....he was about to ask what prompted Samir to buy him colouring pencils when finally the context clue was noticed. "HA!" Lestat flicked through the colouring book to find one that looked vaguely like Samirs. They were all very generic, of course but he would look for the closest proxy of one.

"What about this one?" Lestat showed him a random one surrounded by a lotus flower. "Ha-" No, Samir had lost him, whatever plans Samir had for the day would have to wait, Lestat would be busy colouring.

@deliratio // blood related prompts

"This time" Matthew took off his jacket leaving it in the car and would help the fellow ancient clean up the mess and what a mess it was. Jackson Pollock might be envious of the splatters but still, quietly armed with bleach, mop and cloth evidence would we wiped away before the owner of this rented mansion would find out and ask too many questions. If there was something he learned to do was to wipe banisters, it is the middle of London so burning bodies was out of the question, they'd have to dispose of them in the countryside and burn them there, cover it up by the burning of the heathers.

He spoke of his fledglings as though they were protégés but he curated them the way one curates antiquities—with ownership, not affection and they are very different men with very different duties in life.

It would take ages as even with vampiric speed he was taught to be meticulous, a single missed drop and it was a trail pointing a finger. It was not him Marius asked for help but he was not his place to refuse the help from the oldest vampire in London. It made sense, Marius had enemies, old enemies.

"You could have asked us to help. Ysabeau, me, Anthony." He spoke those words into existence. "Four days on horse back, nine for a round trip." Auvergne had at that point in history been four days on horseback from Paris. They were not friends, but there were things vampires were not allowed to get away with, stealing a fledgling would have struck a nerve with Phillipe who ruled their coven like a family, Satanists capturing an innocent would have pulled on old oaths for the de Clairmonts were very pious Roman Catholics that stayed in their territory...but would have had an unwilling fledgling return to him. Or given the mercy of a fast death if his Mind was too far gone.

They were not friends, they never had been anything but vampires giving each other wide berth and a mild connection through Anthony Frasier. "Phillipe, Baldwin, I..Anthony...we would have done it for you had you wished to keep your fledgling believe your demise bound by old codes of conduct" he finished polishing the bottom step. He shook his head.

"Centuries have passed since he was under your command. He is of mine now- you will do well to remember it next time pen finds paper." He helped make this all go away...because Armand asked. Because Armand was distraught and pondered why he ought to go. Why his fragile peace was once more shattered.

"You saying I'm drunk?" He smirked, another sip following. He didn't hate the hand on his shoulder, so did not shrug it off. He wasn't drunk - oh no - just a light buzz right?

"I dunno." He shrugged at the question of things becoming more awkward. "How good of a kisser are you?" He teased, another sip down and a nearly empty cup to show for it.

He considered the others words. Their supposed bond. It was humourous really. A familiar and a hunter of all things that go bump in the night. As Sleipnir says though, he only puts down the bad. But that hardly inspired hope for the supernatural in question.

"I'm not exactly a uh..." He looked around the room. "I'm not a known people person." He shrugged. "I'm sure I can look into it if you want. Sometimes it's more trouble then its worth though." Still. To be constantly tethered to another has its drawbacks. It forced him to reflect on all the ways he has neglected his body and life over the years. The aches he knew all to well were gone. Still there but - pushed onto another. And it wasn't fair.

Samir pressed his lips together and lowered his head a little bit. Slowly, he pulled his hand away again because he didn’t want to make Sleipnir feel uncomfortable or anything like that. Was he seeing things? The other seemed drunk to Samir, or was it him judging how much the other drank because Samir would be very drunk at this point? Perhaps both.

“Uhm, no one ever complained about my kisses. Does that make me a good kisser?” the familiar asked and smirked just a little bit. He wasn’t vain or anything like that, nor was he someone to brag. But Samir wanted to joke along a little because it was a nice change from how they talked to each other usually.

@deliratio // caring and re-assuring sentences

Daniel didn’t look at Marius at first. The words hung there—gentle, unthreatening, almost awkward in their sincerity—and Daniel reacted the way he always did when someone offered him softness: he froze, then pretended he hadn’t.

Night Island was too quiet. Too many immortals moving like shadows, too much grief humming under the marble floors, too much power gathered in one place with nothing to do but remember what they’d lost. The air still felt scorched from Akasha’s death, as if the world hadn’t quite cooled.Daniel stood near the railing overlooking the black water, a glass he wasn’t drinking from turning slowly between his fingers, he could not ingest human comforts anymore, maybe holding it helped all the same. The ocean below looked bottomless. He felt bottomless.Marius’s presence settled beside him—calm, ancient, patient in a way that made Daniel’s nerves itch. He didn’t know what to do with patience. He didn’t know what to do with kindness that didn’t come with a hook.

"Not much help"Daniel echoed under his breath, a wry twist pulling at his mouth. "Yeah. That sounds about right"He finally glanced over, eyes rimmed with exhaustion he refused to name. The vampires here didn’t sleep; he barely did. The nights were long enough to think, and thinking was the last thing he wanted.

"But if you don’t judge.."he added, voice quieter now, almost swallowed by the wind coming off the water. "That’s… new."He looked back out at the sea, jaw tightening. His fingers tapped the glass once, twice, a restless staccato. A life that seen empires rise and fall just saw theirs reshift and in comparison Daniel feels like a mayfly stood in the presence of a sequoia tree.

"You ever notice how everyone here keeps talking about destiny and purpose and the grand design of things, but no one wants to admit they’re scared shitless? That they don’t know what comes next?" His laugh was thin, brittle. "Feels like I’m the only one who’s allowed to still be human about it." he was only recently made.

"I shall keep it there" he confirmed and when Samir's magic light touched his hand... "AOU!" he yelped and then giggled mischievously. "I jest...your little face..." he grinned, reaching to cup Samir's cheek. Maybe that was a little too boyish but he could not help himself.

"Oh I do not like it...why is it both too wet and too dry on the tongue at the same time?"he questioned. "Drink a little more. Oh, that is disappointing... to be a snobby Frenchman and not like champagne. Try my wine- swirl it in your mouth" Yes, Samir became his guinea pig. "Much better. Well, that makes sense. I was fond of wine as a mortal..." Nothing changed there.

"Try a little more caviar..." There was barely any left and Lestat sounded like a retching cat. No, he hated that too. "Eat something else... it is as if you licked the ocean." Lestat had grown up on very bland food and when he lived in Paris even blander as even salt cost. Some herbs he stole from here and there into stews of mostly water but primarily a very bland diet. "Cheese...have some of the cheese" The mortals changed the way cheese tasted too, but that he did like. "It is very rich...and creamy." The salad got a pass too, it was salad. "Tomatoes taste far more watery...or perhaps I merely remember them stronger in taste." Overconsumption and over farming meant less mature tomatoes.

While Samir ate Lestat would tell him about what food was like during his era, how he had to scavenge and how gruel was what kept his belly full most nights. Cheap, nutritious... tasteless, but when you went three days without a hot meat how it was like ambrosia just to be able to fill your aching stomach.

But luckily, his little bit of magic seemed to work well. With a smug little grin, Samir put the glass of champagne away to reach for the wine. He grabbed the glass of wine, took a sip, and swirled it in his mouth just as Lestat told him to. His dark eyes lit up when he heard that his date enjoyed the wine even more. Without complaining, Samir followed the requests and ate the things Lestat wanted to try. Seeing the other so enthusiastically made the familiar even happier than before.

“I am not as old as you know, but I noticed as well that the quality of the food has decreased quite a lot,” he answered to the comment about the tomatoes. He ate the food that was served to him and skipped whenever Lestat declared that he despised certain tastes. At the same time, he eagerly listened to what the other was willing to share with him about his past. It sounded like quite a gruesome way of living. Poverty and sickness, and filling the stomach only every so often.

"There are no lovers currently for you to whisper grand poems of love in Greek but there had been, non?" he pried as he was endlessly curious and could not figure Marius out. What did he really know about Marius? He once had a companion named Pandora....and then Amadeo. Anthony told him so very little. There must be something about him, was it the artistry? Not unlikely, creative people tended to be passionate, although Lestat did not currently see much passion in him...and what little Marius showed Lestat knew was pried from him rather than willingly offered, a crack in his stoic armor to admit the loss of Amadeo.

The striking visage of an old Norse God? It could be. He was certainly tall and attractive with soft blond hair and eyes as blue as crystal lakes in spring. Maybe skill with languages was a tool at his disposal when he wished it to be, easier to charm someone if you spoke their native tongue and an easy ice breaker to impress someone with your knowledge. Lestat was determined to find out what about Marius gripped Armand...or Amadeo so much that a mere facsimile of his former lover fascinated him enough to refrain from destroying a new vampire on sight.

"Sounds sweet, what does it mean?" Lestat asked with a bubbly grin and then his expression dropped. "How disappointing, the language of poetry and democracy, and you chose to lecture me instead of charm me-" he rolled his eyes and took his position.

"I am rebellious of any laws that do not make sense to me, Monsieur de Romanus. I love them you see. Humanity, I am in love with it, their art and their music and their beauty and how they drive innovation ever forward in a bleak dark world. I make a good vampire, do you not think? A gentleman vampire able to blend in with mortals ever so well and the Mediocre Laws-" he jabbed – "-would have us live like feral animals. I have no Coven Master thus I am a Coven of my own...and I can impart the Dark Gift to whomever I wish. No mortal is to know us and be allowed to live...how are we meant to choose the next generation of vampires? On whim? On visage alone? You yourself adviced me to give the Gift only out of love....soon thoose I love will perish to old age how am I meant to love someone if I am not allowed to know them and be known by them, monsieur? I have not killed another vampire but I certainly think myself capable to if forced to defend myself so that Law I do abide by...I am a pacifist; I do not like a fight and would always prefer to get along with everyone."

"Tell me Marius, did you always hold yourself to the Laws?" he asked cocking his head to the side accusingly, no of course not, not with a palazzo full of mortal boys.

"If you believed in them you would be leading the Rome Coven. I do not know covens well but I know politics."

“I did not lecture you. I gave you advice for your future.” As soon as Lestat got back into the right position, Marius sat back down as well to continue the painting they had made for Anthony’s home. No word left his mouth, and he seemingly remained focused on the painting, but Marius listened rather closely to what Lestat was saying. 

Nothing he said was a surprise, but Marius was also not happy about what he heard. Lestat seemed to be determined to break every possible rule, and at some point, it would backfire on him. Marius pressed his lips together to hold back a comment for as long as Lestat spoke. At least the young vampire wanted to get along with everyone, which eased Marius’s mind already. He did a few strokes on the canvas as he was starting to work on the shading and highlighting, some of the key aspects that could ruin the entire painting within mere seconds.

“Some rules make sense and should be followed.” Marius finally said after way too much thought and silence. “You shall stay among mortals, but disclosing to them what you are is against the laws, and I advise you to follow that one. Not just for yourself but for all of us. The mortal mind is not capable of processing what we are. You will scare them, and you will endanger us all.” He spoke calmly but with a certain tone in his voice that emphasized the importance of his words.

“I never disclosed my true self to my apprentices or any other mortal I surrounded myself with. But you certainly know the outcome of the Palazzo. You endanger mortals as well.” From the corners of his eyes, he looked over to Lestat as if he wanted to study the other’s appearance again. “The covens, especially the Roman coven, follow their satanic premises, which I do not agree with. Religion in general is not something you find me talking about.”

//It is a shame he will only feel your fangs claiming him, have you met a more eager beauty?// Lestat was first on whoever's bed and chose the one that seemed to be more recently changed, not that either of the beds were particularly fresh. "We ought to go to more sorority partiers, at least most girls bother to launder their bed sheets and use some air fresheners. In fact I forbid all of you from passing anymore gas on either side of your digestive tracts; this room reeks of flatulence and desperation enough" the vampire stated and Amber burst in laughter over his choice of name for a fart.

Elias gave Lestat the choice but Amber sure didn't as she pulled on Elias' belt loop to tug him over to the bed. "Why are you so far away exactly?" she questioned, biting at her index finger nail and eyes full of mischief as she tried to grab Elias' thigh with her heeled feet.

Larissa then. Not like they were actually having a good old six-way, and he was not that fussy on who he took the Little Drink from, only wanting to spend time with his best friend.

They were so drunk that it barely took much strength to put them under the vampiric charm but Lestat did not need to.

"Oh I have kinks a little thing like you would never touch" he purred as Larissa kissed his chest towards Derreck who of course would try to prove himself adventurous. "What if I was sadistic? What if I wanted to bite your neck so harshly I'd make you bleed? I bet you would cry and scream" he taunted and was kissed by the young man that insisted he would not and it was as easy as that to dig his fangs into the young man, a groan of pain fell of his lips but by slicing his tongue and licking the wound shut none would know the difference as he laid blissed out staring at the ceiling.

"I think our friend tapped out rather fast ma cherie Larissa" he pouted inviting her into his arms, her he would savour, such soft skin, such a beautiful scent, perfect curves, he liked his women a little curvier...he would kiss her chest, kiss her stomach and from her he'd take the Little Drink from the thigh and when she too felt dizzy from the blood loss, he'd make Derreck open his arms and cuddle her. They would only remember the bliss, the euphoria... a few whispered words and a kiss to their cheeks and for all he knew they would explore each other later.

It didn’t come as a surprise that Elias almost lost it as he drank from Derreck. The young man was as white as a piece of paper when Elias pulled his fangs out of him. Lestat was certainly the more behaved one because Elias wasn’t giving Amber any time to process it all. He pushed her down on the bed, forced her head to the side, and sank his teeth into her neck. Everything about his hiss and almost feral sounds was giving it away that he was not here to play. No kisses, no ministrations. Those who got a taste of Lestat’s fangs had been more fortunate.

Elias’s mouth and chin were stained crimson as he pulled away. Reluctantly, he pierced the pad of his index finger and closed the wounds he left on his victims. Then he helped Lestat put them in (more or less) appropriate positions. He took a handkerchief from the pocket of his pants and started cleaning his mouth and chin a little. Oh, he felt bliss and the high of drugs and alcohol. Everything seemed so much more fun.

“I told you, Mariah.” Elias finally said after he cleaned himself up. His arm wrapped around Lestat’s shoulder. “Hunting is easier than ever.” He patted Lestat’s chest after putting the stained tissue away again. “You need to make sure that your rockstar career takes off. That means we will always have free food. Those bloody groupies will happily spread their legs for you. Isn’t that exciting?”

Marius' hand on his shoulder brought him pause- "It pleases me that you do not wish to see me harmed; the sentiment is mutual. I would never forgive myself if harm came to you because of me and I do sincerely mean it" Marius had in his own way always been protective over him, he'd probably be in deeper pools of trouble had the ancient not looked out for him, him and Anthony.

His words grabbed something in Lestat, he cocked his head to the side in a realisation. "You do not get asked often to dance, do you. You do not dance because you do not get asked, your beauty captivates many but you have been mythicised so much none can reach you on that pedestal. I have just realised it to be so" And it was sad, to be such a presence that by existence alone you were intimidating.

"Yes please. I would like us to dance tomorrow," he confirmed, walking up to the ancient and looped his arm around Marius' so they would walk to the elevator together and he'd even lean his head against Marius' shoulder as they waited for the damn thing to arrive. He normally would have ranted that suites such as their own ought to have private elevators, as of course the suites had an elevator just for the suite level; it was just slow as someone had taken it just before them and it had to go up and come back down.

“I am glad we agreed on something.” He couldn’t change the way Lestat was. Maybe Marius didn’t even want to, but he had to keep the risks of that evening turning into a bloodbath to a minimum. At the same time, it was important for Lestat to be seen in the company of at least one ancient. Maybe, if Anthony is around as well, two ancients will leave more of an impression. Marius narrowed his eyes on the younger Vampire. Certainly, Lestat was not known to throw the first punch, but provocation was certainly one of the many middle names Marius has mentally given the young vampire.

A soft hum fell from Marius’ lips as he thought about the question. They stopped in front of the elevator, and his arm wrapped around Lestat’s shoulder almost automatically. “I cannot remember the last time I danced. Maybe, I never did.” But he knew how to dance. His apprentices had the best education, and dancing had been part of that. But thinking about it now, he never engaged in these things. Amadeo might have asked him to practice with him once, but even that ended rather quickly.

“We will dance then.” The elevator doors opened for them, and Marius guided Lestat inside. His long, pale finger pushed the button for their floor. Marius found himself surprised that Lestat didn’t complain about how long it took for them to get into the elevator.

"Then all the more reason to wear more blue" Lestat answered and nodded along that yes, to most golden yellow would make them look jaundiced; it was a skill to look your best in such a demanding colour that did not allow for subtlety. "Ah, yes a very noble English name. A king or two of yours bared the name if I am not mistaken, not that history is my forte. Maybe one day, I am not one for the past,I prefer to keep my gaze to the future. It is such an ever-growing world out there, I wonder what I have missed. Have we conquered the seas yet? Discovered new worlds?" When he went to rest war had swept through, and talk of colonies prevailed among the wealthy. "Before I slumbered my lawyer made me invest in lumber...the shipbuilding kind as he was adamant France, Spain and England will launch armadas to conquer new worlds now that Europe has become too stagnant. I wonder if it is true, I wonder if I am even wealthier...or have I woken to more war. I grow so tired of the endless marches of flags through old lands"

"I doubt he would reveal himself in the presence of an Ancient mon cher. You are a very intimidating creature by rarity alone but if it pleases you do what you must. I will acquire us a horse and carriage when I have accessed my wealth; flying around like larks is no means to travel for gentlemen." It would be far faster, though, so he stepped into Antony's embrace and hung on a little too tight and even when feet touched cobble-stoned ground again Lestat's arms did not release. He laughed as Anthony would now be trapped in his embrace. Lestat thought himself ever so funny.

Pierre Roget had done very well for himself during the decade or so of slumber. Lestat insisted they head to his lawyer first in case dinner ended up messy. "Bonsoir mon ami...you look so well. Your own firm-" Lestat spoke taking Anthony's coat and hooked it on the coat holder by the door. His lawyer was surprised to see him, he had not expected to see Lestat in this lifetime and was coaching his son in fact to take over expecting the vampire to not wake up until his son was a grown man.

"This is my beloved friend Anthony" Lestat introduced them and the lawyer shook his hand.

"Monsieur de Lioncourt you have never been a man for pleasantries-and the wife is waiting for me for dinner." He was about to close when Lestat walked in but his prestigious client warranted some nagging from his wife. "Your investment portfolio has performed very well."

"Wonderful"

"Your net worth has increased by 6% since you bid your goodbyes. Would you like me to walk you through your investment portfolio?"

"Not tonight; I will take it with me to study. I need you to arrange with the bank a transfer of ten thousand livre" Lestat spoke.

"It will take at least three days to move that amount out of your bonds."

"That's disappointing. I was hoping that the man that is in control of my wealth would know better than to make me wait"

"It is the sign of the times; capital controls are in place. I can get you a thousand by tomorrow night, but the rest it will truly be three days and it is out of my hands." He would use some investments of gold from another client to liquidate and get Lestat some currency and then reinvest the same value when Lestat's bonds were freed.

"You are a good man. I am glad I chose you" Lestat nodded his approval. "As you say. A thousand tomorrow, the rest in three nights."

As they stepped outside with the young Vampire, he quickly revealed what had happened over the past few years. Lestat didn’t sleep long enough to really have missed major events. A soft hum fell from his lips. “You know him better than I do. I trust your judgement, young one.” But Anthony will make sure to shield both of their minds just to be safe. He wrapped his arms securely around Lestat’s body and chuckled lowly to himself when he felt the tight embrace. Of course, he wouldn’t risk anything. Lestat was safe in his arms, but flying was not exactly a favourite thing to do for Vampires, even when they possessed the cloud gift.

He would take them up high to the clouds to avoid being seen by mortals before he flew them in vampiric speed back to Paris. The distance might’ve been long by horse and carriage, but it didn’t take much longer than a couple of minutes until Anthony lowered them back to the ground in a dark alleyway hidden away from mortal eyes. 

And so they made their way first to Lestat’s lawyer, Pierre Roget. “Merci,” he whispered after handing Lestat his coat. The ancient Vampire looked around a bit while the poor lawyer looked like he had just seen a ghost. Upon being introduced, he stepped forward and shook the mortal’s hand. “Pleasure,” he said with a gentle voice before he remained silent again. 

Anthony stayed in the background as he tried to figure out if they were safe. But the coven seemed to be busy. Or maybe Anthony’s shield was working well enough.

“I have to congratulate you,” the ancient said as they left the office. “Your lawyer is a very skilled man and loyal, I can tell. It was easy to read in his mind, and he is training his son to take on the family legacy.” Anthony put his coat back on and squeezed Lestat’s shoulder gently. The older vampire looked around. “Come. You should eat at least two. Your body needs to regain strength, and I think there are Evil Doers close.” He guided Lestat through the streets further to the poorer part of the city. 

"My beautiful husband, that is how I will introduce you. My beautiful husband, Samir de Lioncourt" Lestat sat up to press hungry kisses on Samir's neck, his clavicles, his chest, to lick a line on his cleavage and taste his warm skin and oh, how he adored him so. A blunt bite on a firm pectoral, a feral hunger for his beating heart.

"My handsome, considerate husband who never sees a problem as unsolvable. How I yearn for you every night" Lestat whispered and allowed his hands to travel south, first to caress Samir's hips, his thighs, and then finding that one thing the core of his masculinity, to gently pump.

A soft moan slipped past his lips when hungry kisses were pressed on his neck down to his chest. Samir arched his back a little, and a moan fell from his lips at the blunt bite that caused a shiver to run down his spine. One of his hands came to rest on the back of Lestat’s head. His fingertips massaged the vampire’s scalp.

"Bonne nuit, Vincenzo, Ricardo, Albinus, Amadeo. " she wished them all good night one by one as they walked off in a single file obedient, kind and artistic. In thirty years if they were lucky enough to live that long they would have long forgotten her and it would be a mercy.

She could now stop pretending to breathe, stop faking small movements, stop blinking at random intervals and doing all the little things they had to do to make mortal eyes not perceive them far too much. "I apologise as well, I forget myself, easier to blame young mortals for staring than...I feel like a half of a whole and shall do so until he returns to me. I hope you will never love someone that loves war and battle as much as Philippe." Marius would likely never experience the anguish of worrying yourself sick, physically, to be so restless and racked with worry that the very wine of the vein would expel and you drowned yourself in tears. Always when she was alone, in her chambers, unperceived and never once in front of anyone.

"I do not know. I have received no real letter since he demanded I leave our home and send our daughters away taking our sons to Paris and announcing its coven broken, only coded letters that he is returning to Thessaly with our sons, for all I know for respite...but we both know it is a march to his next battle. He will not be sated until all that he deems a threat are brought to heel or served deaths-" She knew exactly who he was and what sort of man he was when he killed her maker and rescued her from his rule.

“He knows, before you ask,” Marius said right away, as there was no way for him to hide it anymore. “The other boys don’t. But Amadeo knows. It wasn’t my plan to reveal our world to his innocent mind. And I know what you will say about the Great Laws. But he is not old enough for the Dark Gift yet. He will get it from me once the time comes.”

Marius’ face seemed to become blank again as he focused on finishing the painting. Every now and then, he looked over to Ysabeau, as it was necessary to get all the little facets in lighting right. Marius wasn’t Botticelli, and yet, he took great inspiration from his works. Capturing the innocence in his models was something utterly important to him, even though young Amadeo would scold him for not putting enough soul into his paintings. 

Silence fell over Marius as he listened to her talk about her husband. And even though Marius only knew very little, he was well aware that Philippe was more than 1000 years older than him. Even Marius knew about the restlessness of Philippe, but he would not dare to comment on it. He, too, has taken part in the destruction of a vampire and her cult, as to speak.

A soft hum fell from Marius’ lips. Quarrels and hardships were normal in a vampiric marriage. His companionship with Pandora ended after about two centuries before he left her. A decision he came to regret deep down inside. Yet, Marius was not ready to admit that to himself at this point.

"I have allowed this distraction to go on long enough, Anthony did not come here to discuss Marius or Akasha, did you, old one. You have come to make amends together, and thus you both ought to focus on that and leave the fretting over Ancients awakening to me.And I am not fretting. Last time Marius announced their awakening it was a mere turn of arm and a foot upon my throat when her consort did not take her affections being given to another male...well, I can understant that- I too would not take kindly to a more handsome man gaining the affections of my beloved" And his arrogance rung so heavy, thinking himself the more handsome, the more fun, the superior choice while knowing nothing of the man that joined their queen in eternity before the land that would birth Lestat even had her current name.

"She gave me her blood, I did not give her mine. What can I say, I am a typical male, I will get my pleasure, but giving it in turn...well, one must earn it" Ah yes, the cockiness of the brat to try and equate it to a form of getting a blowjob, so amazing was he that he would always get what he wanted and things would always work out for him.

"You shall not fight anyone, you shall not need to. Beautiful and powerful as she might be I am not tempted; I am married, and I do not soil my marital bed." How delusional must a vampire be to think he would have a choice if her eyes were to fall upon him and decide he ought to be the one sat to her right for all eternity?

"Samir misses you, old one. I promised him to apologise to you and try to be civil; for his sake, Samir's happiness means the world to me. I am glad to find you as amicable and understanding. " the blonde mused and stroked Samir's arm draping his own around the Familiar's shoulders to hold him close.

No one this powerful will let you drink from them, and Samir wasn’t naive enough to think it meant nothing. Lestat was cocky, but he didn’t seem to think this through. Why would an ancient so old and powerful wait for his permission? Oh, Samir was not worried that it could tempt Lestat; he was worried that his husband would not be given a choice. But could he say that out loud? Samir looked over to Anthony, who made a gesture as if he was about to shake his head.

“I know you wouldn’t do that, mon amour.” Samir kissed Lestat’s temple and caressed his cheek fondly. “You know I would never question your loyalty.” Which was the truth, Samir trusted Lestat with his life. But he couldn’t trust this queen. That was a huge difference.

Anthony, who remained silent the entire time, waited until Lestat directed his words at him again. This was when the ancient one straightened his back a little bit and gave Samir a smile. “I missed you, too, Sammy,” he said calmly and earned a smile from Samir.