Lestat doesn't build cages to torture what he catches, he builds them because he's terrified that if he steps back for one second, the room will be empty.
If Lestat's goal had been control, he lost. If his goal was to solidify himself so deeply into Louis's soul that not even seven decades, a ghost, or Armand could erase it…he won entirely without knowing he did.
He survived his youth, his upbringing, the wolves, abuse, his horrific creation, the coffin, the ground. He survived heartbreak, the depths of guilt, grief, self-loathing and despair and the trial. He suffered his own forms of self-sabotage, ridicule, wounds and shame.
And in the end, after all the blood, devastation and ruined decades, the pull remained intact. Lestat didn't build a coven, he built an anchor from the truest parts of himself to Louis. Love will always lie beneath as the driving factor.
Everything monstrous he does is built on this foundation. The possessiveness, the grand gestures, the toxic control, the theatrical outbursts-they aren't the moves of a warlord trying to build an empire.
They are the desperate, flailing actions of someone who was starved of affection in a cold countryside and left alone in the dark only to be revived by Louis, his unique eternal flame. He fears smothering that flame and driving it away more than anything.
By standard narrative logic, he may have failed to some, but Lestat was never playing for power, status, or a coven's Loyalty. Lestat's only ambition in this life and the next has ever been simple:
To love and be loved without vanishing.
There is no word currently in existence powerful enough to encompass Sam Reid’s virtuosity in conveyance. I’m not sure there ever will be.
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