"Flowers," Armand spoke for Lestat's benefit. "What better embodiment of our existence than the birth, bloom, and decay of flowers? Only in paradise do petals truly last forever."
"Renewal," Daniel added quietly. "Just because the petals fall off doesn't mean the plant is dead, Armand. The flowers will bloom again and they'll be as beautiful the hundredth time as they were the first time. It's the circle of life, and we're part of it."
"I suppose," Armand didn't argue, seemingly content to lose himself in the black curves and lines. His eyes focused and unblinking, tongue peeking out from between his lips in concentration.
It’s a cluster of flowers... Honeysuckle, peach, and wisteria blossoms. A dahlia, a rose, a chrysanthemum, and a lily of the valley.
Such familiar flowers!
Beautifully laid out on Lestat's bronzed skin by Armand's masterful hand. How many of those flowers had Armand shown Daniel in the garden he'd created for him, the last thing he had ever shown him before the veil came down between them forever?
How could Daniel help but recall now what he'd said when he shared the story of himself and Armand with Lestat on Night Island in the aftermath of Akasha? In the language of an ancient people the word for flowers was the same as the word for blood.
Blood, same as that which Armand meticulously wiped off of Lestat's skin. The scent permeated the air, arousing to the senses even when diluted with ink.
[READ ON AO3]
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It might still be a day or two before it materialises, but there is some mortal Nicki/Lestat coming your way. Here is a brief preview of their ridiculousness before the clothes come off.
“If everything went as it was supposed to, I’d be a lawyer and you’d be what, a priest?” Nicolas shook his head and stretched out onto the tiles, his feet finding purchase on some delt or other. “I don’t believe in fate. I believe in will and choice. And so do you! You'd make a terrible priest, you ask too many questions and the vow of obedience to the will of a god you don’t believe in would have destroyed you."
Lestat wanted to argue but couldn't find the words.
"You live in a state of chaotic disobedience, Lestat," Nicolas continued on. "Even with all of that light inside you, that's just something that you have, it's not bestowed by some divine being anymore than it’s divine than how you look or walk or your ability to leave your hair all over me and make people wonder if I have a disobedient pup at home.”
“I bite less than pups do,” Lestat told him, even though he could see the fading telltale bruise on Nicki’s open shirt that indicated perhaps that wasn’t entirely true and by the look Nicolas was giving him, he knew it too. “Besides, I will have you know plenty of people have asked me if I made some deal with the devil for my good looks.”
“And little do they know that you are in fact the very devil they speak of,” Nicolas sniped.
No, that wasn’t right. That wasn't right at all.
“Don’t say that,” Lestat said.
“Why?” Nicolas said. “Was the devil not the most beautiful of angels before he crashed bloody into the fall? One man’s fall is another ascension, be they angels or devils. You don't need religion to tell you that.”
“You don’t believe in either.” And yet, the very thought sat uncomfortably in his chest. "But that doesn't mean you have to say it."
“I believe in nothing but the music,” Nicolas said, waiting only for a beat before he continued. “And you. I do believe in you.”
“Do you really?” Lestat asked.
The expression didn’t look hopeful. If anything, it looked as if he were admitting some terrible atrocity. “Yes,” Nicki said, lifting his chin. “And it’s terrible. I think I could have lived what was left of my miserable life destitute and dreary if not for the fact I do believe in you, in that dizzying hope that only you possess.”
“Hope is everywhere,” Lestat insisted. “You just need to look for it.”
“If you start proselytising hope to me, you won’t have to worry about slipping from this roof.” Nicki mutters. “I shall push you off it.”
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People, help me understand myself a bit better. Lestat is one of my favorite characters of all time. I love him an insurmountable amount, ans yet I feel so much joy whenever he suffers? Like what?
If his choices bite him in the ass... I cheer. I'm overcome by joy.
Whyyyyy?
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