Ruling Rue Royale
DISCLAIMER: This work is SPECulative fiction which uses characters created by SOME CRAZY BITCH WHO SUES HER FANS and then, inevitably, captured by the character slavery ring controlled by Knopf and pimped out to Geffen and Warner. No infringment upon their rights is intended. I also wish to mention Random House and Ballantine Books, parents of the latest 300 pound alien baby reincarnation of Elvis. Gracie.Insult nor injury is meant to Stan Rice, Chris Rice, Michele Rice (RIP), Mojo Rice (RIP), Sunny Rice (RIP), Mikey Rice, or any other Rice-related personages. Anyone holding any legal or moral right to the Vampire Chronicles, The MayFair Witches Series, or The Feast Of All Saints. No disrespect is meant to SOME CRAZY BITCH WHO SUES HER FANS, nor her family by the depictions of them as characters in this work. The depictions of Bultman Funeral Home, Jacob Schoen and Son Funeral Home, P.J. McMahon and Sons Funeral Home, Leitz-Egan Funeral Home, Lake Lawn Metairie Funeral Home or any of their workers or directors are not to be taken literally and not meant to violate their rights.
No offense meant to The New Orleans Saints Football Organization, their families, friends, lawyers or underworld business associates. This work also mentions the characters of Frank’s Place and the films, Mrs. Miniver, Penny Serenade and Arsenic and Old Lace, which is punishable by death in some countries.
SPOILERS : Vampchron to MtD
Dedication: To My Darling, Father of Lies.
You have my first loyalty, and all of my soul.
He shall be her swordpoint, and she shall be his shield.
I love you.Thanks to Deb P., who by her decency and concern, for restored my faith.
Thanks also to La Femme, who asked so sweetly!
And also to Stumbleine, DarkStar, Serenity, Buni, La Femme, Artemisia, Ebony, Vega Blake, Kabuki, Anastasia Illusia, Monique Michelle and Wendy , who were such darlings to comment that I didn't want to lead them on unnecessarily.Warnings: Taking of the Lords name in vain.
WARNING: vm/vm sensual situations and tongues and stuff.
WARNING!!!!! MV/MV/MV SEX!!!If you do NOT want to read about SEX between same-SEX vampires, don't SEX read SEX this SEXSEXSEXSEX!Explanation: The dialogue of the character, Josephine, is meant to be an approximation of the pidgeon Creole French that would have been spoken by slaves in Louisiana at that time, translated into English. The inconsistancies in grammar are intended. No racial slur is meant by the dialect of this character.
Ruling Rue Royale
by DarkAngel
30 septembre 1999
Chapter One
They landed in the courtyard of the town house.
"Home, sweet home," Lestat said, releasing Louis.
"Wherever I hang my hat's my home," David replied.
"Home is where the heart is," Louis observed.
"My home is your home." Lestat opened the door and ushered them in.
"There's no place like home," David quoted.
"But you can't go home again." Louis whispered, under his breath, as Lestat closed the door behind him.
"Home, home on the range . . ." sang out a familiar voice.
"You know you ain't home if dey's makin' you wear shoes," said another, in a fake Cajun accent.
"BARK, bark, BARK, bark, bark, bark, BARK! BARK! Pant, pant, bark!" said a third.
"Anne!" David was stunned.
"Stan!" Louis smiled delightedly.
"MOJO!!!" Lestat ran towards him, sliding into the parlour and dropping to the floor to snuggle with the dog.
"Oh my God," Anne breathed, seeing David for the first time.
"Oh My God!" Stan commented, upon seeing Lestat's new skin tone, as he slid by him.
"OH MY GOD!" Anne and Stan exclaimed upon seeing Louis enter the parlour.
"Please tell me that's bronzer," Stan said to Louis.
"When I said get some sun, it was a JOKE!" Anne touched Louis's cheek.
"Well, I had a bit of an accident." Louis explained, smiling.
"Sweet Jesus, are you hurt?" Anne pulled him close to her.
"I am healed." He answered her. He backed gently out of her embrace. To cut off any further inquiries he said, "but please allow me to introduce you to David Talbot."
"How do you do." David said politely, bowing his head slightly.
"This is Anne Rice, our author and book jacket model." Louis grinned at her.
"Hello." Anne said with a warm smile, taking David's hand in hers.
"And Stan Rice, the poet and the painter," Louis continued.
"I prefer to be called 'Mr. Anne Rice'," Stan said, shaking David's hand.
"I t is a pleasure to meet you." David laughed.
"And now that you have met them, they can tell us what they are doing in my house," Lestat said walking to them with Mojo on his heels.
"Nice to see you two, Lestat." Stan said. Lestat punched him lightly on the shoulder.
"Ma belle cherie amour," Lestat said, taking Anne in his arms and kissing her. "Have you missed me?"
"Of course, Lestat, always," Anne answered. "Now, do you want to tell me what this Gobi desert business was all about?"
"No," Lestat said pleasantly, smiling. "Let's all sit down, shall we?"
They arranged themselves on the couches in the front parlour.
"We're here because our house is full of left-over O'Briens from Mardi Gras," Stan explained. "We went out to walk Mojo, and thought we might duck in here for a little peace and quiet."
"So much for that plan." Lestat laughed.
Mojo put his front paws in Louis's lap and barked happily, his tail wagging.
"Yes, I made it back on my own, and you needn't act so surprised." Louis said to him. Mojo got down and put his head in Louis's lap instead. Louis petted him. "David, this is Mojo, I believe you missed the introductions before we left. Mojo, meet David."
David held his hand to Mojo's nose. Mojo sniffed him and licked his hand.
"He likes you." Lestat said.
"What were you doing out walking him after midnight?" Louis asked.
"Oh, no, no, we came over around four," Anne clarified.
"Ah, I see," Louis nodded.
"So, how was Rio?" Stan asked.
"It was an experience," Louis answered.
"It must have been, I don't think I have ever seen you in such touristy attire, Louis." Anne laughed, indicating his sweat suit, emblazoned with Caesar Park Hotel logos.
"You should see what he has on under that," Lestat said enticingly.
"LESTAT!" Louis blushed. "Please, let's not talk about clothes."
"T-shirt and shorts," Lestat informed them.
"Shorts? Louis! Alright!" Stan teased him.
Louis put his face in his hands, "It is a long unpleasant tale."
"Which you will be writing very soon." Lestat patted Anne's shoulder.
"Really? I'll clear my schedule," Anne grinned. "David, I wonder if you would mind a little interview, I'd like to know more about you."
"Not at all, so long as I am allowed to ask questions as well," David answered.
"Still the scholar," Anne smiled. "It's a deal. Tomorrow night?"
"I'll look forward to it," David said.
"Thank you." Anne stood, as did Louis, and then David. "We should hit the road, Stan."
"Yeah, we are getting rid of three of them on the eight a.m. flight tomorrow."
"I could get of even more for you," Lestat said, licking his lips.
"Yeah? Well let's discuss terms, because there are about seven -"
"Hey! Hey! Hey! That is enough, both of you," Anne interrupted her husband. She hugged David. "Welcome to New Orleans."
"Thank you," David smiled.
Anne hugged Louis and kissed him. "You take care of yourself, now. I want to hear all about this, soon." She tapped the tip of his sun darkened nose.
"It will all be in Lestat's book, I am sure," Louis answered.
"Yes, but I want your version as well," she told him.
"Then I shall abide by your wishes," Louis sighed.
"David, it'll be an adventure," Stan said, slapping his back.David grinned, "I am sure. It was good meeting you."
"Louis," Stan hugged him hard. "We'll talk later."
Louis nodded.
"Lestat," Stan put his hand out, Lestat took it and pulled him into a hug. "It's good to have you back."
"It is good to be back," Lestat said. "But you two do not expect to be walking home alone, do you?"
Anne hugged him, and kissed his mouth. "We're not kids, Lestat."
"Non, Lestat is right. New Orleans can be a dangerous place, I understand," Louis grinned. "I'll accompany you."
"No, Louis, I'll accompany them. Look at the sky. It is about time for you to be in bed, young man," Lestat told him authoritatively.
Louis's eyes narrowed slightly. "Lestat, don't treat -"
Let's go! Good bye! Good bye! Come on!" Lestat said drowning out Louis as he gathered up Anne and Stan and swept them out the door. Mojo followed barking. Louis and David looked at each other and shook their heads, laughing quietly.
"I hate to admit it, but Lestat is right. I must be going to my room." Louis locked the door.
"I shall as well, soon," David answered. "Louis?"
"Yes, David?"
"I think I should like to obtain a coffin."
"Hmmm, I can take you to the funeral homes tomorrow night if you wish to browse."
"Yes, I should think that would be advisable. Is it still possible to have one made?"
"Anything is possible, providing one has the funds, which we do."
"Very well, then. Do you have a coffin, Louis?"
"Yes, I do have one hidden, for safety's sake."
"How old is it?"
"I've had it almost fifty years, I think."
"How long do they usually last?"
"It all depends. Weather, location, materials, craftsmanship, the number of times it is transported or shipped, all these things are factors, of course."
"What kind of shape is yours in?"
"It is still secure."
"When will you need another?"
Louis smiled. "I don't really think about it, David."
"I think you should purchase one as well. Fifty years is a long time."
"David, I don't use it when I stay here."
"Nevertheless, when you do need it again, you don't want to find that it has crumbled in your absence."
"If so, then I should go into the earth for that day and obtain another one the next night."
"An ounce of prevention is worth a pound of cure."
"David, I know you feel responsible for my present tan, but you are becoming obsessed with my safety. I assure you, I know what I am doing." Louis put his hand on David's shoulder, smiling with amusement.
"It would comfort me greatly if you would at least consider purchasing one." David 's brow furrowed in worry.
"You win, David, I'll look." Louis kissed David's cheek, "Bonne nuit."
David returned the kiss and smiled. "Good night, Louis."
Louis turned and ascended the stairs, David smiled after him.
A few minutes later, Lestat and Mojo returned. Lestat set a giant bag of dog food down in the foyer. Mojo raced into the parlour and jumped on a couch. It occurred to David that a shedding Alsatian with filthy paws did not quite fit on an expensive reproduction 18th century cream silk couch.
"Will you be keeping the dog here?" David asked, keeping his voice neutral.
"Of course. Don't tell me you don't like dogs, David, I know that you do."
"It isn't that, Lestat. But it seems that after all of the renovations you've had done, a dog may be a bit, shall we say, detrimental to the decor."
"David don't be prejudiced. Mojo hasn't done a thing to warrant such suspicion. And even if he had, Louis burned the place down once, and I am letting him stay."
David laughed, "Oh yes, that clears things up."
"Puts them in perspective, anyway," Lestat grinned.
"I believe I'll be going to bed, then," David said.
"Sleep well." Lestat followed David up the stairs. As David turned to go to his room, Lestat stopped him. "David."
"Yes?"
Lestat kissed him. "Welcome Home."
David sank into Lestat's arms. "Thank you."
And they each went to their own rooms and waited for the sun.
Lestat awoke to a clear black sky. He showered, changed and went downstairs. Time to take a thorough inventory of the renovation. The woodwork was magnificent, golden and warm. Almost all of the furniture was similar to the pieces he had owned in the 1800s. And what wasn't, was at least period. Even the cabinets that the television, VCR and sound systems were in looked period. Enormous hulking highboys with the doors closed, a media bonanza with the doors open. Lestat made a note to send the decorator a nice bonus for that. The telephones were all hidden away in similar disguises. The one in the front parlour had been built into a beautiful enameled box, just raise the lid, and there is your receiver. Lovely!
He continued into the kitchen, where Mojo was fast asleep on the floor. The stove, sinks and faucets all were of the oldest design, yet shiny and new. This was what Lestat had wanted. No "antiquing" no "aged look" of things about the place. No "charming knotholes" in the woodwork, nor "nice patina" on the silver, gold or brass. Everything looked clean, new, and functional, even the 200 year old mirror frame that had been through the fire. He'd had trouble with the first decorator on this. The woman had found for him a silver candelabra, 1800s, French.
"Great!" he'd said, looking at the greyish metal. "Have it cleaned and polished."
"Oh no, you can't do that!" she'd exclaimed. "You'll lose all the value!"
"It is worth more dirty than clean? I'll take the loss, I won't have my house looking like a junk shop."
Well, she'd refused, and so she was replaced. Finally he had found someone who had an ounce of aesthetic sense, and didn't have dollar signs clouding her vision. Lestat went to the sink and turned on the tap. Water flowed in a clear stream. They had replaced all the pipes, good. He filled a bowl for Mojo, then walked through the back parlour. He had seen quite a bit of this, when he had first returned. It was delightfully complete. Louis had even found a quill pen to stand on his desk. Did they still make quill pens? And there was the pen knife beside it, for sharpening, and ink in the little glass inkwell. Amazing!Lestat continued on to his office, he thought he might check his e-mail, and see how many empty disks he had, so that he could start on his book. There was a sign on the door.
You Are Now Entering The Twentieth Century.
Please Scrape Boots At Door.
Louis's handwriting, of course. Lestat laughed and opened the door. He went to his computer and sat down. He reached to hit the power button.
'This isn't my computer,.' Lestat thought. 'This isn't even my chair!'
He got up and looked around the room. 'This isn't my office! What the hell?'
There on the other side of his desk sat his computer, hidden by the newer computer's huge monitor. His old chair was nowhere to be found, but as he sat down, he felt the new one was much more comfortable, anyway. He saw a new phone to his left. 'Four lines?! Voice mail! New answering machine! A FAX! I know I did not order any of this. Yes, Lestat, there is a Santa Claus?' He turned in his chair. 'A collating copier?? Well, I guess I'll find some use for it.'Lestat activated the new computer. He was happily setting controls and installing extra software When David found him.
"New computer, Lestat?"
"Yes, actually, brand new. I am not even sure where it came from." Lestat stood and gave David a quick buss on the cheek.
"Secret admirer?" David offered.
"Perhaps so." Lestat laughed.
There was a knock at the door. "That will be for you," Lestat said. "It's Anne."
Ruling Rue Royale - Chapter Two
Graphic Credits for this page can be found HERE
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