Lestat had often questioned his decision over the years, to side with Akasha against all other vampires. But she had enraptured him, captured his full attention and his heart. His choice had resulted in the death or entombment of many whom he had loved. Akasha had granted mercy to those who would not join her, but also did not want to fight her. They were locked in sarcophagi, starved, forced into a long sleep for however long Akasha had decided.
It had only been a few years since Akasha had taken over the world. Her rise had started small, but once she had a few sects of devoted women it was easy to slaughter all of the men. Only Akasha decided which men to save, reading their minds to see if they were worthy, if they deserved a place in Akasha’s new world.
Lestat was doing Akasha’s bidding, killing entire cities of men without abandon. He had younger vampires save a few along the way, creating a dungeon of free food for all vampires to enjoy. The vampire population was far smaller than it had been in the past, a result of Akasha’s culling and those sleeping, but still couldn’t kill half of the population without worrying about how they were going to eat. Women were sacred, not meant to be fed from. Instead, they worshiped Akasha, their new world Queen.
Children cried, and it was a sound he was used to by now. They never wanted to lose their fathers, but it must be done. But this child’s cry reminded him of one from long ago. He knew Louis would also recognize that cry, and he came to the child, picking her up, ordering the other vampires with him to continue their slaughter.
He flew her to Akasha’s royal seat, where she had created her court. The girl only looked at him in awe, no longer crying. Lestat first took her to Louis. His sarcophagus was in a separate location from the others, as the King’s revered lover.
“Listen, Louis. She is Claudia reborn. I shall raise her to worship the Queen, and then you will come back to me.”
Rose looked at Lestat with confusion, asking what he was talking about, but Lestat knew he had broken protocol by first bringing her to Louis and not to Akasha. He hurried now, carrying her to meet the Queen.
Akasha was taken by her just as Lestat was, and when he asked permission to raise her at court she agreed with grace. Of course Lestat could have this little girl. She would be a priestess of Akasha one day, and she would be the best because she would know no other life.
There were both humans and vampires at court, only those most loyal to Akasha were allowed to be there. Rose grew up knowing not to look the Queen in the eye, or else she may be eaten. Lestat was the only man she knew, all the others at court were women, and he was the best father he could be to her. Pandora and Bianca doted on her as well, teaching her how to worship Akasha in the best way.
Lestat is given permission to turn Rose when she becomes an adult. Akasha says he must do it, as he brought her here, and Akasha’s blood is too strong to make more fledglings. But not too strong to give to a newborn vampire.
She has to wait a week after her turn before she’s allowed to approach Akasha. It gives the chance to adjust to being a vampire, to hunt, to get the initial rush of the world becoming magical out of her system.
Lestat tries to prep her before going into the throne room, but he is King and he knows Akasha more intimately than everyone else. He lingers outside the door when Rose enters, wearing vampiric priestess robes, her first time being allowed to.
“Come, my child. Come and see your Queen.”
When Rose looks at Akasha for the first time, she gasps, her beauty even beyond what she’s been told. Akasha beckons her closer, forcing her to kneel by her throne. It is then that Akasha goes beyond her wildest dreams. She offers her wrist, letting Rose drink only a mouthful before she pulls her hand away. Rose prostrates herself after her head touching the floor.
“My Queen. You honor me though I have only been in your service for a short while.”
“You have been in my service since you were brought here. Now you shall be part of my handmaidens, with Pandora and Bianca. Like they accompany me wherever I go, so will you. And you will be granted my blood, my life, in exchange for your service.
“Yes, of course. Whatever you desire, Akasha. Whatever you wish, My Queen.”
👁🗨- Talk about someone/something you like, but pretend to dislike
Armand? But I’ve said that before. And, if we’re frank, I don’t pretend to dislike him these days as much as I once did. I love Armand, and we have far too many similarities, and that is why we fight, often bitterly.
Perhaps staying in? I enjoy it far more than I pretend to. There’s something magical about a night in bed or in the parlour, a fire lit, Louis quietly reading or writing nearby, and the white noise of the quarter around me.
“It is worth noting that assassinations are bound to happen to rulers sometimes, if only because, once a person no longer cares about dying, they are free to strike.” Santino straightened his shoulders and leaned back. “Machiavelli has become somewhat infamous but he spoke a good bundle of truths, didn’t he?”
“ You haven’t presumed falsely. I hold some sentiment for you. You are a clever woman, I like clever women.”
“But I had presumed more than liking... is not that I am ungrateful, having your recognition it is a great honour. But liking seems a mild, distant sentiment when prior I had presumed affection.”
A slight hiss left Marcel's lips at Akasha's command. With every fiber of his being, Marcel was fighting the command that was given to him. But his body fought back against him just as hard. Slowly, the blood drinker would find himself lowering to one knee, hissing and growling all the way down. He released a scream of agony when he finally knelt on one knee.
The Blood was new to her system. Only with fangs a few days, Rose knew her destiny. Or at least what she wanted. Whether or not fate would be on her side was yet to be known but she had faith. She had to. There was hardly a chance she would have another go at this, so she had to be careful. Methodical. It was a good thing Rose had years to mull over this night. Perhaps more so than the night she was born to darkness.
She watches with jealous eyes to the few priestesses that pass her in the hall. Their outfits are indicative of their status, revered, but of course not to the level of the Queen. She wants that, and has since the moment she knew what they were for. Hopefully tonight. And if not...she can’t afford to think of the alternative.
The time is fast approaching, rather close to sunrise for such a young one. Rose has to wonder if that was a choice. Lestat was not invited to this, explicitly told he was not welcome. She would be on her own.
Standing before the shut doors she tries not to shiver. She doesn’t feel cold anymore, but her nerves are enough to give her chills. When the door does finally open she gasps, Akasha sitting regally before her.
It takes a moment before she walks forward, as if not of her own volition. The moment she is at the end of the carpet she kneels, eyes only trained on Akasha’s toes, knowing not to look into her eyes.
“My Queen. I beseech thee. I wish to serve you. I wish to do as you bid, for eternity. As always, your will is the way.”
"No one should be judges for loving more than they ought, only not loving enough." Akasha judged Lestat to be the latter, the one who had not loved her enough to save her. Even still she did not blame him, or attribute to him any wrong doing despite the boil in her blood, the ghost of that feeling of betrayal she had felt when he stood by and watched her be devoured. She could forgive him anything.
The voice cut through his consciousness like a knife--cold, cruel in it’s familiarity. Did his heart stop? Could it stop, anymore?
He turned on the street to find the owner, female, somewhere behind him. She stood, casually, near a streetlamp. She was beautiful, but that was nothing new. Stunning, really, her girlish features unchanged (he’d always forgotten how young she must have been, how very young, when Amel had found her), her eyes alight and focused, sharply, on him.
He took in a sharp breath. But how...? He blinked. She was still there. “I...” His voice felt as though he hadn’t used it in years. He cleared his throat. “No one could ever excuse me of not loving enough.”
iam-yourqueen replied to your post: "No one should be judges for loving more than they...
@devilsfool lol! someone is angry.
//Dude legit it was my gut reaction. I think it’s because @sangcreole and I have been talking about how fucked Lestat is in the wake of QotD, and how he basically spends 20 years spiraling and searching for a bottom beneath rock bottom.
