Mon Etoile - An Interview with the Vampire Fanfiction
Celeste Moreau sat atop the roof of the Theatre Des Vampires, watching the twinkling stars that filled the night sky. Paris was quiet, but then again, it always was this time of night. That was, she supposed, one of the few perks of being a vampire. She got to be awake while the rest of the world slept. This meant that, for those precious moments when she could slip away from the Coven, the world was hers, and hers alone. The dazzling night sky and crisp air all hers to enjoy, without having to deal with the noise of humanityās hustle and bustle during the daylight hours.
She rested back against the tiling of the roof, hands behind her head as she admired the view above her. She lifted a hand and began to trace shapes lazily in the air, humming some song sheād long forgotten the words to. When she grew bored of that, she moved on to trying to name all the constellations she could. This brought a smile to her face as a memory came to mind.
It was of one of the first few months after Estelleās turning. Sheād been so curious about everything, wanting to know all that she possibly could about what it meant to be a vampire. She seemed to have gotten the idea into her head that Celeste had the answers to every question she might have about their vampiric nature, due to how long Celeste had been a creature of the night. This was far from true, and Celeste had tried tirelessly and on numerous occasions to explain this to Estelle. Her fledgling had come to accept this, much to Celesteās relief, but it had not stopped the barrage of questions, with Estelle assuring her then that it was alright if she did not know some of the answers; all she had to do was tell Estelle all that she did know, and the fledgling would be content.
And so that was what Celeste had done.
Sheād begun with all the most important things. What Estelle had to learn to survive as a vampire, then what she ought to know for survival in general, and then things Celeste thought she should know about humanity.
But what began as lessons soon turned into casual conversations, and Celeste found herself rambling off about any odd thing she felt like telling Estelle about. And often, Estelle would share with Celeste things she found of interest, or had learned, or read about, or seen in the mind of a mortal while feeding.
It was one such instance that had sparked the conversation of the constellation. Estelle had rushed up to Celeste after one of the night hunts, dragging her away from the group and pointing up at the sky. She then began to excitedly list off constellation names, her eyes shining brighter than any of the stars she was focused on, and Celeste thought they were infinitely more beautiful too.
Eventually, she turned to Celeste and told her that that was all she knew. Or rather, all the aspiring astronomer that she had fed from knew. And then she had begun to bounce up and down as she tugged on the elder vampireās sleeve, begging Celeste to teach her more. Specifically, she wanted to know the names of more constellations, but any facts about the stars would do. Celeste had no idea ā and still didnāt ā why Estelle was so interested in learning about that particular topic, but she liked seeing Estelle so joyful and enthusiastic, and so she indulged her. By the end of that night, Estelle knew more about the stars and the constellations than any mortal or vampire in Paris. Save of Celeste, of course.
Celeste was just about to continue losing herself in the memory when suddenly, a thought broke through the silence. It was barely above a whisper, and likely she could only hear it because of how long she had honed her telepathic abilities for, but despite how far away it sounded, she could still make out what the person was saying. Not only that, but it was clear enough for her to recognize who the vampire was whose thoughts she was picking up on.
And when those two things were put together, Celesteās eyes widened, her heart dropped, and she took off in a sprint.
She very nearly fell off the roof in her scramble to get off of it and broke a few of the set decorations that had been left to dry backstage. She thought that perhaps someone might have gotten upset about that when the Coven awoke the next night if not for the fact that there wouldnāt be a next night for them. So, it didnāt matter. Just like the throbbing pain in her ankle didnāt matter, even though she knew that, if she were to look down at it, sheād see it had already begun to swell. It didnāt matter, she told herself. It couldnāt matter. There was only one thing that mattered right now.
Celeste tore through the theatre, ignoring the glances, questions, and āhey, watch where you are going!ās from her fellow Coven members. Most of them appeared to be getting ready for sleep, with a few already in their coffins and others just getting into them.
āPerfect for his plan,ā a voice in her head said, and she shuddered. It was right. This was exactly what he thought would happen, what heād taken into account for his scheme. Sheād have let out a scoffed chuckle at how theyād all underestimated him if she wasnāt so busy trying to find Estelle. Ā Where was she? Where could she have gotten to?! The theatre wasnāt that big. She hadnāt been in the storage room, wasnāt in the coffin room, andā¦
A terrible thought came to mind then.
Then that thought became a series of thoughtsā¦ then a spiral of them.
What if Estelle had left the theatre? What if she had gone outside at some point and Celeste hadnāt seen her leave? What if sheād taken a side exit or something? Stepped out for a smoke or to enjoy the night air before curfew? What if something had caught her attention outside and sheād gone to investigate it?
But surely sheād have gone to get Celeste, right? Before leaving, surely Estelle would have come to ask if she wanted to go with her. She usually did.
Usuallyā¦ not always, Celeste reminded herself. And Celeste had disappeared without telling Estelle where sheād be. But she hadnāt gotten into a fight with her or anything like that! It was just that sheād needed some space from the Coven. From Santiago, mostly. She cared for him, yes, but he was a troublesome fledgling who had brought so much trouble and chaos to their doorstep. And she was tired of cleaning up his messes, or appealing to his ego, or justā¦ having to deal with his tantrums. She had just wanted a break from it all. Just some space. She hadnāt been avoiding Estelle.
āBut Estelle didnāt know that did she? She likely assumed you were upset with her or simply pushing her away. And can you blame her, really? You certainly could have been kinder to the poor thing,ā taunted her own voice inside her mind, and she shook her head, tears in her eyes as she continued racing about the theatre to find Estelle. The voice was right. She could have been kinder. She should have been kinder. Sheād been cold. Distant. At times, even cruel. The latter only when she herself was stressed or upset or afraid, but that was no excuse. She should never have taken that out on Estelle.
āI wonder where she went. Hopefully not far, because then if you somehow make it out of this, you might have a hope of finding her. Orā¦ whatever is left of her. Depends on whether he chose fire or beheading for her. You should count on it being fire though, especially given what you all did to her,ā the voice sneered, and Celeste stopped dead in her tracks at this. Again, the voice was right. More than that, its unspoken statement was right: they all deserved to die for what happened to Claudia. Her and Santiago especially, but the rest of them too. Part of her didnāt want to admit that to herself. Not the rest of them so much, although their deaths would weigh on her if she didnāt perish first. And not her and Santiago. Gods knew they deserved to die the most out of everyone in the Coven. Save for Armand, perhaps. Yes, she thought maybe Armand was right up there with the two of them. Or maybe that was just what she wanted to tell herself. Maybe, in the end, it didnāt matter who of them deserved it the most or the least. They all did deserve it.
Celesteās hands shook as they flew to her mouth to stifle a sob. She crashed to the floor, the pain not registering at all despite the fact that she knew the impact would cause bruising. Or would have, if she would have lived long enough for it to bruise. She hung her head low, rocking back and forth on the theatre floor.
Estelle was gone, wasnāt she? Sheād gone outside for whatever reason, and Celeste hadnāt known because Estelle hadnāt wanted to tell her. Because Estelle had been afraid Celeste was upset with her. So sheād gone off alone, and he had gotten her. He had killed her, either while Celeste was busy daydreaming and losing herself in memories, or while she was frantically trying to find Estelle. Sometime when she was not focusing on reading his thoughts. She should have been focused on trying to keep her mind open, so she could hear it. Maybe then sheād have knownā¦ but she hadnāt known. She hadnāt known and now Estelle was gone. She was gone and she had died alone. In the cold and so very afraid. Sheādā¦ sheād died thinking Celeste was upset with her. Sheād died not knowing how much she really meant to Celeste. Sheād been all alone thereā¦ sheād died aloneā¦ she must have been so afraidā¦
āMa moitie? Are youā¦ are you alright?ā a voice called to Celeste, and the sobbing figure looked up to see Estelle standing there, looking at her with concern written all over her face. She was carrying an armful of fabrics, which she dropped immediately upon seeing Celesteās tear-stained expression. She rushed over, sliding across the floor when she fell to her knees and embraced Celeste. āYouāve been crying, ma biche. Why? What has happened? What is wrong?ā
āAre you real?ā Celeste asked, her voice cracking as she did so. She could feel the warmth of Estelleās hold ā she always could, even though their vampiric nature led both of them to be cold as ice physically ā but she needed to ask anyway. In case this was nothing more than a cruel trick her mind was playing on her.
āI should hope so, because I do feel quite real. Of course, if I am not, then that frees me of the responsibility of explaining where all those fabrics went,ā Estelle replied with a chuckle, tilting her head to gesture towards the discarded roles of fabric. Celeste laughed at this despite herself, burying her face into Estelleās shoulder.
āI could not find you,ā Celeste told Estelle, sniffling softly. āI had checked all over. I thoughtā¦ā she continued on, but Estelle cut her off by kissing her on the top of her head.
āI am sorry, my darling. I had not realized you were looking for me. Had you called, I would have come to find you,ā she assured Celeste. Celeste just held her tighter. She could not explain that she could not have called out for Estelle, because this might have alerted the others that something was wrong, and Celeste could not have that, because that might have hindered their escape. She could not explain that, yes, she was willing to let the others burn, so long as she and Estelle ā or even just Estelle ā got out of there alive. And that she feared that even if she tried to make it seem as though she was just searching for her fledgling for some non-important reason, the fear would seep into her voice and someone would catch wind of it, and sheād once again have put Estelle in danger. And she could not do that to her.
āWhat is the matter, ma moitie?ā Estelle questioned, hands moving to gently cup Celesteās face and bring it up so she was looking at her. āWhat has you so troubled that it should make you cry?ā
Celeste opened her mouth, meaning to tell Estelle everything. She was going to tell her about what she had overheard, and whose mind the thoughts had come from. The danger that they and the Coven were currently facing. That they could not stop to grab anything, but that that would be fine, because they had accounts set up at various banks and properties in their names, and they would figure something out, but that right now, they had to leave. They had to go before curfew, when he would come to burn down the place they had called home for so long, and the people theyād called family for so long.
And she thought, if Estelle protested and insisted they should warn the others, that she would promise Estelle that she would remain back and warn the others while Estelle prepared the motorcycles out back for their escape. Maybe that would not even fully be a lie. Perhaps she would tell a few. The few sheād been the closest to or owed it to the most. There was a risk involved in warning anyone, but perhapsā¦ perhaps she might be able to warn just a few. Those she was closer with, or those she owed it to the most. She was not certain what she would do in terms of that, but what she did know was that she would be the one staying back to do it.
Then Celeste began to debate whether it was safer to simply not tell Estelle the truth. Whether perhaps it might be better to make up an excuse for why they had to leave the theatre. She could say that she was still hungry. That the Sabbath and the Covenās hunt had not satisfied her, and that she wanted to go on a night hunt. It was something the two had done numerous times before. Granted, not usually after curfew, but Santiago was far less strict about curfew than Armand had been, and they both knew it.
So, she could always say that. Tell Estelle that they were just sneaking out after curfew and would be back in a few hours after they had drunk their fill. She could take Estelle far away from the theatre, and stall until long after heād be gone. Then she and Estelle could return, and she would pretend to be just as shocked as Estelle would naturally be at the ruins of the Theatre Des Vampires. Estelle would likely try and figure out who the culprit had been behind the destruction of their Coven and the theatre, and if Celeste was lucky, perhaps she would blame the wrong person. If not, Celeste would come up with something. Someone else to shift the focus onto. Someone who Estelle could not reasonably seek vengeance against. Perhaps another Coven? Estelle might be furious at them, but she knew better than to start a war against an entire Coven, especially if it was just her and Celeste.
Yesā¦ yes, that could work! It would avoid Estelle trying to convince her to warn the entire Coven, thus risking altering him to the fact that someone was onto him. It would get them away from the theatre and would give Celeste an easy way to stall things long enough to ensure that he was gone by the time they returned. All they would have to do was head out now, gas up the motorcycles andā¦
It was then that an awful thought hit her, and she felt her heart drop again for the second time that evening.
There were only four ways to exit the theatre:
Most of the attendees of the theatre did not know about the latter two exits. But he wasnāt like most of the theatre attendees. He had been inside the theatre multiple times. Had entered and exited the building with Armand on numerous occasions, and the former Coven leader had taken him through pretty much every exit save for the roof, which meantā¦ which meant that he knew them all. Probably in detail, given how many times heād been there since they were first introduced to him. He knewā¦ he knew them all, and heād have plans for them.
The front entrance would be easy. A tripwire maybe? Something at neck level to quickly end any vampire who attempted to run out the front door. There would be a sick sort of irony to it even; the vampireās speed while attempting to flee only serving to worsen the impact of the wire to their throat, probably decapitating them right on contact.
The roof wouldnāt be an option the second that his plan to burn the place to the ground was set into motion. Even if it was, attempting to flee via the roof left whoever was up there entirely exposed, and that was assuming that the door to the roof wasnāt also lined with some sort of trapā¦ and that was a considerable assumption.
The sewers were a slightly ā slightly - better option. The pathways in the sewers were wider than a doorframe, making it harder to set a trap via wire. Not impossible, granted, but significantly more difficult. There was, of course, the possibility of him coating the ground with gasoline and setting it ablaze as soon as someone went down there, but that required him to sit around and wait in the sewers, and if more than one vampire ā or one skilled in the Cloud Gift ā went down there, he would be at a disadvantage even with the element of surprise.
But the main issue was that the sewers had only a certain number of exits with maintenance hole covers that could be moved to allow one access to the tunnels. And those exits were narrow enough to put a wire over so that if a vampire tried to jump or fly up through the opening, they would meet a grisly end. Not only that, but it was possible that, after finishing with the theatre, he would wait at the openings to the sewer, using his vampiric abilities to sense which was being opened. Heād have the upper hand, being above ground and able to move more freely than those in the sewers would, and the second the maintenance hole cover was moved, itād be like setting off a flare saying, āWeāre over here, come get us.ā
That left only the entrance at the back of the theatre.
The one where their motorcycles were kept.
The one where he knew their motorcycles were kept.
She couldnāt even hope that there was a chance he was unaware of it, because heād returned with them on numerous occasions from their night hunts.
So that meant with absolute certainty that he knew where they were. Likely he also knew which one belonged to who, but that didnāt really matter, did it? If he was going to lay a trap using their best means of escape via the back entrance, then whatever he was going to do, heād probably do to all of the motorbikes. More than likely, he would use the fact that the motorcycles were powered by gasoline to his advantage. Rig them up in such a way that, after the bikes had been up and running for a little while, something would set off a spark and then BOOM. It wouldnāt take much, she imagined, to start a fire that would engulf both the vehicle and its rider. How far would they get, she wondered. The bridge, perhaps? If they were lucky. Off the street?
Would they even make it off the property?
Celeste felt several thousand miles away from her body as increasingly vivid and gruesome images came to mind. Her trying to flee with Estelle, them getting caught in one of his traps, and her being helpless to stop whatever fate was going to befall them. Worse than thatā¦ her being helpless to do anything as Estelleās final moments became filled with agony and terror. Having to watch as Estelle met her end, powerless to do anything but listen to her cries and screams. Those turning to whimpers when the pain became so unbearable that she could no longer muster the strength to scream or cry out, or them cutting off abruptly in the event of a ā mercifully ā quicker end.
That didnāt matter though. Not really. What mattered was the fact that, in every scenario her mind ran through and every end they met while trying to escape the fire in the theatre, Estelle was afraid. In those final moments, no matter how long or short they were, she was afraid. And Celeste couldnāt shield her from that. Couldnāt protect her from itā¦
āMon Coeurā¦ā Celeste began, trying desperately to stop her voice from cracking as she spoke.
āYes, ma moitie? What is it?ā Estelle asked, cupping Celesteās face gently in her hands. Gods, how soft her hands were. Theyād been warm once too. She remembered that with so much clarity it felt like yesterday was the last time sheād felt warmth in those hands, instead ofā¦ how many years had it been? She was struggling to recall now. It seemed like so long ago, and yet only a few days. Funny thing, time.
Sheād had so much of itā¦ Yet now it felt like it was not nearly enough.
Not when it came to her time with Estelleā¦
Never enough time for her beloved Estelle.
āI think perhaps I have been overworking myself. Since Santiago took over the Coven, I mean,ā she told Estelle, faking a yawn. āIt has been a stressful and busy time since then, and I think perhapsā¦ maybe I am in need of some rest.ā
āOh! Of course!ā Estelle said, kissing her sweetly on the cheek. āIām sorry, mon tresor. I should have noticed earlier,ā Estelle apologized, and Celeste shook her head.
āThink nothing of the sort, ma trĆØs chĆØre,ā Celeste replied, pressing her forehead to Estelleās.
āWould you like to grab a bite before we retire to our coffin for the day?ā Estelle asked her, and Celeste immediately shook her head. She then cursed herself for her quick reaction to the question, fearful that it might alert Estelle to something.
āI do not think I have the strength for a night hunt tonight, Estelle. Iā¦ā she began, biting her lip hard. A part of her mind screamed at her to say yes. To take Estelle out for a night hunt as sheād originally planned to. Maybe not even as a cover story though. Maybe just soā¦ maybe just so that they could have one last night hunt together. Share that ā just the two of them ā one more time.
But there wasnāt enough time.
Godsā¦ she wanted more time.
āIt is alright. You donāt have to explain,ā Estelle assured her, moving her hands from Celesteās face in order to take the older womanās trembling hands into her own. āCome, mon amour, let us get ready to rest,ā she said with a small nod, standing up and helping Celeste to her feet. Estelle brushed some hair behind her ear before standing on her tiptoes and kissing Celesteās cheek.
They walked through the theatre to the private dressing rooms in the back, with Celeste in a fog the entire journey there. Estelle did not make much conversation during the walk, though Celeste suspected this was because she thought Celeste was tired and would appreciate the quiet. Which Celeste didā¦ although in truth it was because every word she spoke aloud made her more and more afraid that she might shatter like glass dropped from several hundred feet above the ground. And if she didā¦ no. She could not afford to. She had to stay strong.
Celeste shut the door to her dressing room and began to change into her favorite nightgown. Tears were streaming down her face as she did so, and she put a scarf between her teeth to stifle her cries so that Estelle would not hear them. A thousand thoughts were filling her mind, but there was one that was louder than all the others.
She should never have agreed to assist Santiago with his plans to take over the Coven. No, more than that. She should have left everything well enough alone. Just kept her head down and remained under the radar. She should never have encouraged Santiagoās rivalry with him. Or with Armand. Especially with Armand, she thought. She should never have encouraged Estelleās rivalry with Claudia or begun one of her own.
Why had she and Estelle been so cruel to Claudia? All that poor woman wanted was to find a Coven that would welcome and accept her for who she was. Sheād spent so long searching for other vampires, and then finally she and him had stubbled into the territory of the Parisian Coven andā¦ and it could have been a wonderful thing, Celeste thought to herself.
It was at the start, wasnāt it? She remembered the day when theyād first arrived. When Armand had first brought them into the theatre. It had been such a treat, having real vampires in the audience. Theyād all been excited about it when Armand had told them prior to the two Americans arriving to the show. There was trepidation, of course, but excitement too. She remembered Gustav had suggested that, after the show while they were getting a tour of the theatre, they ought to prank them. Heād said it would be funny to pretend as though the Coven was upset that the two had not approached them earlier. When theyād first arrived in Paris, or at least within the first month. Shake them up a little, heād said with a smile. Santiago had agreed almost instantly, and the rest had followed. Even Armand had thought it sounded like a good idea, so long as the Coven promised not to take it too far. She remembered how excited Estelle had been about all of it. Remembered how she had whispered to Celeste that she was likely not going to be able to keep a straight face during the prank, and that no one should blame her if she was to accidentally start laughing, depending on the reactions of their American guests. Sheād been soā¦ bubbly. Bouncing up and down and going on and on about what outfits they should wear and whether they should buy gifts for the newcomers, and while Celeste herself hadnāt been particularly invested in the existence of the new vampires in Parisā¦ sheād loved that Estelle was.
And so, just like with so many things in their life, sheād indulged Estelleās excitement and learned to share in it.
She wished that things had remained like that. How lovely that could have been. Her and Estelle taking Claudia under their wing. Teaching her the ways of the theatre, performing alongside her, and slowly helping her to become truly part of the Coven. Theyād get Sam to write better plays for her. Ones where she wasnāt playing a child character. Thatā¦ thatād been so cruel. Why had they gone along with it? Why hadnāt someone said something? Why hadnāt she said something? She was the eldest in the Coven, besides Armand of course. She should have said something. Should have stood up for Claudia. Should have intervened. Why hadnāt she?
Maybe if she had, the rest wouldnāt have happened. Unhappy show after unhappy show wouldnāt have bred resentment amongst the cast. Estelle would not have grown to dislike Claudia, then despise her. It was so childish of them, having gossiped and belittled her like that. They should have known better, her and Estelle. They should never have done that. Claudia had been nothing but kind to them. Sheād even agreed to continue doing the play, night after night after night, even though Celeste knew that had to be Hell for her. She wore that ridiculous, horrid costume and sang that awful song, and the audience adored her, even when she began to lose her spark.
Theyādā¦ theyād killed that spark in her, and then theyād killed her.
What fools they were, the lot of them. What a fool she was. She could have stopped this, Celeste thought to herself. If sheād justā¦ just once, stood up for Claudia. Went to bat for Claudia. Truly for her though. Not just because she was trying to back Santiago up against Armand in the hopes it would lessen whatever punishment Armand would give the man for standing up to him. Not just because it was an easy way for them to take shots at him, butā¦ but really stood up for Claudia. Been there for her.
Sheād done that so many times before. For the new members of the Coven. Each one that had joined after theyād become a theatre group instead of justā¦ hiding underground for centuries. Sheād been there for them. Even though they werenāt hers, she took them in as though they were. It was never the same as it was with Estelle, butā¦ but she had done it. Cared for them. Taught them the ways of the Coven. Taught them how to survive. More than that though, sheād guided them. Cared for them. Nurtured them. Tended to their wounds, cleaned them up after messy night hunts, listened to their tales and woes, and consoled them after the seemingly never-ending nightmares that, while different for every member of the Coven, seemed to torment all of them equallyā¦ even herself.
But she hadnāt done that for Claudia. Why hadnāt she done that for Claudia? She knew why. The literal reason why. It was because of him. Because he refused to join the Coven. Because heād rejected their ways. And that had reminded them all of Lestat. Well, those old enough to remember, that is. Heād disregarded their ways, shown them a new way to live, and then once heād caused his chaos and had his funā¦ heād abandoned them. And the old members of the Coven had seen that in the newcomer. His refusal to join the Coven only worsening things, and thenā¦ Gods, and then Armand not enforcing the Coven rules with him but doing it with all of themā¦
It didnāt matter. None of that had been Claudiaās fault. Yet theyād treated her as though she was the one who was breaking the rules or disregarding them. Theyād treated her as though she was the one who refused to take part in the Coven rituals or refused to assist with Coven duties, even though she was diligent and faithful in both. Itā¦ itād been death by association, and it never ā never ā should have been.
They should have been better than that. Celeste should have been better than that.
For Claudia, whoād died because Celeste had failed her.
Who would die because Celeste hadā¦ sheādā¦
Celeste walked out of the dressing room, doing all that she could to hold back tears. That became near impossible to do when she saw Estelle walking towards her, dressed in the lavender nightgown Celeste had bought her on her first night after her official initiation into the Coven. One of the first gifts Celeste had ever given her. She put her hands over her mouth to stifle a sob, and she watched Estelleās brows furrow at this.
āIā¦ I wanted to wear it because I thought itād cheer you up. You seemed so happy when I told you I adored it, and you always light up whenever I wear it to coffin so I thoughtā¦ā she began, her expression turning to one of regret. āBut if you want me to changeā¦ā she started again, but before she could speak another word, Celeste rushed up and hugged her so tight, she was frightened she might injure Estelle. Estelle let out a small gasp of surprise, but quickly hugged Celeste back, using one hand to hold the elder vampire and the other to gently stroke Celesteās hair.
āIt is perfect,ā Celeste whispered. āYou are perfect.ā
āAnd Iām sorry I havenāt said that enough. Iām so sorry that now, because of me, I will never get the chance to say it enough,ā she thought but did not add.
Estelle held her for a moment longer, then took her hands and began to lead Celeste to the coffin room. As the two made their journey there, Celeste tried to commit every little detail of the theatre to memory. Hoping perhaps that she could craft a vivid recreation of it in her final moments and walk the halls of the theatre in her mind one final time before the end. She knew it was likely impossibleā¦ but it was a comfort to dream, and even if it was a futile effort, it made her appreciate all the little things in the theatre even more, and that had to be something, right?
In what felt like far too short a time, they arrived at the coffin room. She noticed that save for Santiago, everyone else was already in their coffins. She knew that this was for the best. That it was already too late, their fates were sealed, and that seeing them would only make everything harder. It would only be more people that she would have to say goodbye to her in heart while pretending all was well, and she wasnāt certain she had the strength for that right now. And she couldnāt afford to lose even an ounce of her strength. Not yet. Later she could fall apart. Later she could collapse into a thousand pieces, but not yet. She had to remain strong.
All of it had to be for Estelle.
Celeste walked Estelle to their coffin, lifting the lid and pushing it gently aside. She looked down at the plush, lavender lining of the coffin and smiled. The lining was decorated with little flowers and had a gorgeous rose print on it. Estelleās idea, although the silk gold pillow had been Celesteās. Not that Estelle ever used it; she rested her head on Celesteās chest each time they retired for the day. Celeste smiled softly as she looked down at their coffin, grateful with every bit of her being that she had splurged to get them a nicer coffin. It was beautiful, and it was theirs. It was beautiful, she thought, because it was theirs.
Celeste lowered herself into the coffin, holding out her hand for Estelle, which the fledgling took with a gentleness that melted and destroyed Celesteās heart in equal measure. She joined Celeste in the coffin, careful as always not to accidentally fall on the elder vampire.
It had happened once, Celeste recalled. One of the first times after Celeste and Estelle had decided to share a coffin instead of sleeping in two separate ones ā partly on account of Estelleās persistent nightmares when she would rest without Celeste, and partly becauseā¦ the days felt so much warmer when they were sleeping in each otherās arms. But Celeste recalled one of the first times theyād shared a coffin. She had already been in the coffin, snuggled up and half-asleep. Estelle had tried desperately not to wake her, but in her attempts to be sneaky, sheād tripped and fallen right on top of Celeste. Her knee had hit Celeste right in the abdomen, and her elbow had clipped her mouth so badly it had forced her fang into her lip. Estelle had looked so mortified, babbling apologies. Her orange eyes wide and filled with little tears as she started climbing out of the coffin. But Celeste had pulled her back into it, prying her fang from her lip and assuring Estelle that she was alright. That her wounds would heal in no time, and that it really was not a big deal. Adding that Estelle ought to be more careful in the future for both their sakes but assuring her that she was not upset with her. Promising her that it was alright. That she was alright, and that theyād both be alright.
Sheād broken that promise.
Celeste helped Estelle into the coffin, and once they were both in, she wrapped her arms around the smaller figure. Estelle smiled at this, nuzzling against Celeste and resting her head as she always did: on Celesteās chest. Celeste shifted one arm so that she could run her hand through Estelleās messy auburn hair, twirling the curls around her fingers delicately. She shut her eyes, inhaling the scent of Estelleās strawberry shampoo.
āMon Coeur, the lid?ā Estelle whispered, blinking up at Celeste.
āYesā¦ rightā¦ā Celeste replied, gritting her teeth. She did not want to shut the lid. Not yet. She wanted to look out at the theatre some more. She did not wish to say goodbye to it just yet. She did not wish to say goodbye to it at all, but if she must, then not just yet. Let her see their makeup mirrors once more. Let her see Hansā messy workshop table, with the fabric littered about it and the half-finished projects strewn about. Let her see the costume wrack, which theyād all stolen things from here and there. Let her seeā¦ let her see all of it, just for a little longer. Let her memorize every detail of it. Say her farewells to each individual thing there. Let her take the things she wished with her. She should have taken some things with her into the coffin. Thereād have been room. Just little things. A hairbrush, or some jewelry. Just things like that. Something pretty for Estelle. Would she want something to hold? Gods, she hadnāt thought of that. She should have grabbed something. What if Estelle wanted something? What if there was something Estelle would have wanted to have with her? To keep with her. She should haveā¦
āCeleste? Mon ange?ā Estelle whispered, tugging at her sleeves and shaking her from her spiraling. She had a worried expression upon her face. āWhat is wrong? You are crying!ā Estelle remarked, and Celeste put a hand to her face to find that she was indeed crying. She wiped away her tears, shaking her head and kissing Estelle on the forehead.
āIt is nothing, mon tout. Do not trouble yourself with it,ā she tried to soothe Estelle with, and though her face betrayed her concern, Estelle did not push. Instead, she rested back against Celeste, hugging her tight.
āClose the lid, mon cheri,ā Estelle said, her voice soft. Gentle. Celeste swallowed hard, giving a small nod. She knew it was time. She could not delay it any longer, no matter how badly she wanted to. No matter how much she wished that she could just have a little more time, she knew the universe would not allow for it. The show had to go on. No more intermissions. No more stopping for set changes. Not this time. They were in the final act now, and the curtain call was rapidly approaching. It was time.
With trembling hands, Celeste shut the lid of the coffin, bathing the two in the usual darkness. There were tiny streams of light coming in though, from holes made in the wood of the lid. Celeste had made those ages ago, when sheād realized that Estelle slept much better if there was a little bit of light coming into the coffin. She was extremely grateful for it now. The gentle glow allowed for a calming atmosphere that would help to soothe Estelle, but it also allowed her to see the other woman. Even if only a semi-hazy outlineā¦ it was better than nothing.
Celeste kept one arm wrapped around Estelle, holding her close to her own body. The other remained in the womanās hair, curling or smoothing it. Outside the coffin, the theatre was quiet. Still. It was past curfew now, and as sheād already observed, the only one not resting was Santiago, who was likely either somewhere else in the theatre, or had snuck out and would be spending the day with a mortal who had caught his fancy.
Perhaps he would survive all this, she thought, simply by virtue of the fact that heād snuck off early. He wouldnāt even mean to attempt an escape. Just be the right place at the right time. She doubted it though. Santiago wouldnāt be able to get off that easy. Not when heād played such a huge role in what happened to Claudia. He would never allow Santiago to sneak away into the night. But perhaps the fledgling of the Coven would get lucky, and his last night alive would be one on the town. Perhaps he would die with the city lights dancing above, and the sound of Parisā streets ringing in his ears. Thatād be nice, she thought with a bitterness that she wished she did not feel.
She shook it away quickly though. There were more important things to focus on.
āEstelle, mon tout. You know that I adore you, yes?ā she whispered, and she felt the other woman nod.
āOf course. And I adore you,ā she replied, nuzzling against Celeste.
āAnd you know thatā¦ that even though sometimes I can beā¦ cold. Or cruel. That even though sometimes I say things to you which are cold or cruel. You know that these are my faults, yes? That they are not yours. That when I say those things which cut, or when I shut you outā¦ it is my own failings, and not yours? That it is not really that I am upset with you, or think less of you, because I think the world of you. It is justā¦ that sometimes I am short-tempered,ā Celeste added, begging her voice not to crack.
āOui, I know. I do not hold it against you,ā Estelle assured her.
āBut you know, ma douce, that I do not mean those things. You know I think so very highly of you, and that you are my miracle, yes?ā Celeste insisted, and she felt Estelle kiss her hand.
āMon amour, you are losing yourself in worries and fears. Rest. Our brains are unkind to us when we have not rested properly,ā Estelle told her, shifting about so she could kiss her on the cheek. āIf you still have these thoughts when we awaken, we can discuss them then and sort all of it out,ā she added with a little smile. Celeste fought tears at this and nodded in return.
āY-yesā¦ perhaps that would be for the best,ā she replied, sniffling. Then, in a soft voice: āDo you trust me, Estelle?ā
āOf course, ma merveille. I have from the moment we met, and I shall for all eternity,ā came Estelleās reply with no hesitation. Celeste bit her tongue hard enough that her fangs pierced right through it, but the pain barely registered. She took a few deep breaths and pulled Estelle up in the coffin so that her head was resting on Celesteās shoulder. Then, softly, she tilted Estelleās chin upwards so that she was looking into her eyes. Estelle was smiling so sweetly at her and her eyes held an expression of pure love in them. One Celeste returned, despite the fact that her heart was shattering into a thousand pieces. She brushed a few strands of loose hair from Estelleās face, and then she focused her gaze right on Estelleās brilliantly bright eyes.
āYou will rest now. You will rest and dream of only the most beautiful things. Nothing shall wake you from your slumber. No sounds. No sights. Noā¦ no pains. No matter what happens, nothing shall awaken you from your peaceful rest. You willā¦ you will sleep now and have wonderful dreams that will... that will carry you away. So far awayā¦ā Celeste whispered, tears streaming down her face now. She saw a haze filling Estelleās eyes and knew that the hypnosis was working. She stroked Estelleās hair as it took effect, trying to ease her into it. It worked, and Estelle made a sleepy little sound as she shut her eyes.
āI love you, Celeste,ā she whispered.
āI love you, Estelle. So very much,ā Celeste told her. And then she began to sob, knowing as she felt Estelleās breathing slow that those would be the last words she would ever say to her.
Celeste was not entirely sure how long it was that she and Estelle lay in the coffin, with nothing but the sounds of their breathing to keep Celeste company. She did not know what Estelle was dreaming of. She wished she could, so that she could know what beautiful images Estelleās mind was conjuring for her. She hoped it was something worthy of Estelleās final moments.
Only the best for Estelle.
Always the best for Estelle.
Eventually, she heard the sounds of a door creaking open, and footsteps coming down the stairs. She could hear the faint sound of liquid swishing around in a container as the footsteps drew closer and closer to the coffins. She didnāt need to smell the liquid to know it was gasoline. So then, heād decided on death by fire for them after all. She had suspected thatād be the case, though she had been trying to hold out hope that he might go with beheading instead. Itād be less painful that way, but she supposed that he wanted it to hurt. Wanted it to be as excruciating as possible for them. And fire was quicker for him anyhow. Soak everything in gasoline, light a match, and then he could be on his merry way. No need to do away with them individually. He could just allow the flames to take care of it all while he hunted down those who attempted to flee. It was a smart plan; she thought while choking back sobs.
It was not long before she heard the pitter-patter of liquid being poured onto the lid of her and Estelleās coffin. The scent of the gasoline was so strong her stomach did flips, and she forced down the blood from her last feeding that had resurfaced to her mouth. Her eyes widened in panic for a moment as she looked down at Estelle but was relieved to find the hypnosis still in effect, and Estelle still resting peacefully. She sighed and stroked the other womanās hair gently, nodding to herself and calming her breathing. She had to remain calm. If her thoughts became to distracted or if she lost focus for even a secondā¦ the hold could break, and Estelle wouldā¦ sheādā¦
Celeste shook her head. That would not happen. She was hundreds of years old, and sheād honed her powers ages ago. She was one of the strongest vampires in the Parisian Coven. From what Armand had told them, she was likely one of the strongest vampires left alive in Europe, simply due to the fact that not many her age had resisted the calls of the flames or the sunās light. Then againā¦ did she really trust that? Could she believe anything heād told her? Not that it mattered, Celeste told herself. She did not need to be the stronger. She just had to be strong enough.
Strong enough for Estelle.
A scream ripped her from her thoughts, and she turned her head slightly in the coffin. She recognized the voice almost immediately. It was Gustav. Ah, so he was starting from the leftmost coffin then. That was better for her and Estelle. They were closer to that side, so that meant less waiting. That was better.
When the flames finally reached their coffin, Celeste felt the heat even though the fire had yet to eat through the wood of the coffin. Carefully, she shifted the two about so that Estelle was tucked beneath her. She pushed harder to ensure Estelle was as deep in the trance as she could possibly be, so that, in the event that the fires took Celeste before Estelle, her fledgling would not awaken even thoughā¦ even though sheād be gone and her powers along with her, save for the last traces of the hypnosis. She would make sure Estelle didnāt have to feel a thing, even after she was gone. Thereād be no pain for her.
Neverā¦ never for Estelle.
Ā Celeste slowed her breathing as best as she could. Tears were streaming down her face but still, she cradled her fledgling to her chest. Estelle stirred slightly, but not to wake. Simply to hug Celeste back, making soft cooing noises as she did so. Celeste could not help the smile that came to her face at this, and she rested her chin on the top of Estelleās head.
Celeste did her best to focus on the gentle rise and fall of Estelleās chest. The little smile she had on her face. The curls of her hair. She planted kisses along her forehead, then her cheeks, and then kissed her passionately on the lips. She tilted her head, her expression filled with nothing but love and adoration. Estelle looked so lovely. So serene. So beautiful.
The flames had consumed the wood of the coffin now and were snaking their way into it. Despite thisā¦ Celeste found that she was far calmer than sheād imagined she would be. Far less afraid of what was to become of her. She let out a soft hum of contentment and acceptance and shut her eyes.
As the fire began to take her, she lost herself in a memory. One of her dearest ones. It was of Estelleās turning. Itād been a cold night. There was snow everywhere. So thick that, when sheād placed Estelle upon the ground, the trembling figure had sunk slightly into it. The snow around her quickly had become stained with blood from the multiple cuts and injuries on her body. A result of a building collapse Estelle had barely survived and would not survive unless Celeste interfered. Sheād asked Armand if she could turn her, hating that sheād had to spend valuable time doing so when she could have been easing Estelleās pain, but knowing it was better to do so than risk incurring Armandās wrath by breaking the Great Laws. Armand had agreed to allow Celeste to make a fledgling, and now here they were. On top of the Theatre Des Vampires, with Estelle wheezing for air. A rib had punctured her lung, Celeste gathered from the pained expression on Estelleās face whenever she tried to draw a breath.
āI am not long for this world, am I? In this condition?ā Estelle had asked, and Celeste had shaken her head.
āNo, ma belle, I am afraid not,ā she had told her.
āHave you come to take me away then? To Heaven or to Hell?ā Estelle had then questioned, and Celeste hesitated before shaking her head.
āNo, I have not,ā she answered, brushing some hair from Estelleās face. āI can save you, doux amour. I can heal what is broken and hurt and make you stronger. Make it so that you would never have to fear death coming to claim you as a result of such things again. But you must understand that you would become an immortal thing. A creature of the night. No longer could you wander the city during the day, for the sun would become deadly to you. You would need to feed off the blood of mortals, draining them until the last drop has left their bodies. You wouldā¦ā Celeste had begun to explain to the dying mortal, but Estelle had cut her off by raising a hand and putting it on Celesteās cheek.
āI trust you,ā Estelle had whispered to her, wincing as she did so. āMon ange gardien. I trust you, so if you mean to take me away, then I am ready to go. But if you mean to save me, then I accept your generous gift with open arms,ā Estelle had assured her. Celeste remembered with such clarity the fact that, even though she was dying and even though she had no idea truly what it was Celeste was about to doā¦ Estelle had not been afraid.
Even when Celeste had leaned down and sunk her fangs as gently as she could into Estelleās tender neck, sheād not cried out or shuddered. Sheād whimpered, but her heartbeat had remained mostly the same. She was not afraid.
Even as her mortal body died and her new vampiric blood began to pump its way through her veins, Celeste sensed no fear. There was curiosity and relief, but no fear. She bore the pain in a way Celeste had never seen anyone do before, and it astonished the elder vampire.
But nothing could compare to the moment when Estelle first opened her eyes as a vampire.
Celeste recalled how brilliantly her eyes had shined, and thenā¦ then Estelle had looked up at Celeste with such admiration, curiosity, and wonder. Celeste had thought to herself then that sheād never really known love before. Not truly. Not like what she was feeling, holding Estelle in her arms as the fledgling looked up at her with passion and adoration. This was something pure. Something true. Something that rooted itself in her heart.
And Celeste knew from that moment on that Estelle would become her everything.
That she would want for nothing, so long as she had Estelle.
And that she would want nothing if she did not have Estelle.
When the world around Celeste began to change so that she and Estelle were cuddled up together in a blanket on the rooftop of the Theatre Des Vampire, she knew that it was almost over. She could not feel the flames anymore, and everything except Estelle felt so far away. But that was ok. She knew the beautiful star-filled sky above the two of them was not real. Just a final image painted by her fading consciousness. But that was ok too. It was such a beautiful last image. She hoped Estelle was seeing it too, in her dreams. Sheād like to believe that was the case. That their final thoughts were connected in some way she could not understand. It was a nice thought. A nice thought, a nice night, and a wonderful love to hold and be held by. That was more than ok.
She looked up at the stars, trying to make out the constellations. Imaging Estelleās voice pointing them all out. But it was getting so hard to stay awake. She felt suddenly so very fatigued, and she knew why that was. So, she blew a kiss to the constellations and whispered to them that she and Estelle would be joining them soon.
Celeste then curled around Estelle, brushing strands of hair out of the sleeping womanās face. She knew she was only doing this in the dream. Her hands were too burnt to do it in real life, and Estelleās hair had sizzled away a few minutes ago. But here, in this beautiful space that didnāt exist but did to them so that was all that matteredā¦ here she could. And she did.
And after that she gave Estelle one final kiss on the forehead, smiling down at her as she held her close. Her peripheral vision caught the world around them flickering as Celesteās mind began to go, and she gave a little nod to herself. That was alright. She knew one by one the stars overhead would fade and then disappear, and that was alright too. It was time for that, she knew.
Besides, the only star she wanted to see right now was snuggled peacefully in her arms, an expression of pure bliss on her face.
Celeste Moreau died that night. One of the many casualties of the fire that consumed the Theatre Des Vampire.
The last thing she saw was her immortal companion, Arnaud Estelle, who died minutes after Celeste succumbed to the flames.
Estelle never woke from her trance. She felt no pain as she went, and when Celeste left this world, Estelleās dream crafted a story for her to comfort her. It told her that Celeste had to leave on a mission for the Coven, but that Estelle neednāt be afraid, for they would see each other again very soon.
The last thought Arnaud Estelle had before she passed was:
āI cannot wait to see you again, mon paradis.ā
And the last thought that Celeste Moreau had had before she passed was:
āI cannot wait to see you again, mon etoile.ā
