Below is an excerpt from the initial fanfic I intended to write about Eglee and Santiago. Since watching the finale, my headcanons on her personality/backstory have significantly changed, rendering the below story incompatible with this new profile. But I still like it enough not to want to just scrap it without posting the remains, so here they are.
As flowers have no choice but to gaze upon the sun which scorches their petals and withers their gentle stems, so too is she rooted in agonizing wilt behind the curtain, unable to tear her gaze from the brightest star gleaming across their hallowed stage, even as the very sight of him crushes her heart in its brawny grip and devours the scraps with relish.
A heavy hand, not of fate but of discipline, clasps gently her trembling shoulder. She swallows the gasp which threatens to interrupt the sacred performance, to earn his ire, and tilts her head back to meet the sternness of Romaine’s glowing gaze.
At the bottom of the backstage stairs, it is Celeste’s arms which wrap around his neck, Celeste’s lips which bestow sultry praise and receive deep kisses in glad return, while she scurries past like a rat on its way to the body box, chin tucked down to evade seeing the object of her desires in the arms of another.
Unfortunately, their entwined thoughts are not so easily avoided—strolling in hot and heavy through her white picket mind, trampling her orchid thoughts and wildflower dreams with malicious abandon.
She slumps down before her vanity, leaving the lights off to let the shadows ease her throbbing forehead and conceal her ruby tears, as the rest of the coven’s jubilations drown out her raging sobs.
Santiago is the most breathtaking of anyone she has ever loved, but in equal measure also one of the most cruel, second only to her maker, he who had abandoned his precious fledgling in the mountains and left her to fend for herself, when he had not raised her to be capable of such survival, deliberately dampening her most natural vampiric instincts to keep her in a perpetual state of dependence, a pretty little whore in a golden tomb of his own creation.
And yet, has Santiago not treated her worse?
Her maker, wherever he may be, at least was never so cruel as to return to her embrace, only to then parade any new lovers right in front of her. She has already experienced this exact situation several times in Santiago’s two decades in the coven—always with Celeste as l’autre femme.
And always, Eglee takes him back.
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