The Violin

[lestat2]

Once we were home, I silently slipped away and into the courtyard without being noticed with the violin case in hand. For minutes I sat there at the metal courtyard table, mosquitos whizzing around the air, the candle light glowing upon my face. With a hesitant slowness I began to open the case, one second at a time and revealed a beautiful antique violin which had been polished and re stringed. I laid my lips on the warm coloured wood.

Staring at the phantom violin, I felt myself being whisked off to another century, past memories bombarding me like a waterfall. Putting my sharp white chin to the instrument and my bow to the strings I played something somber. I hoped somewhere out there in the land of the diseased Nicolas could hear it, guiding him to some place better or comforting him. The violin felt so fragile in my hands like it could snap like a twig.

Memories flash past my eyes.

'Lestat, you fool, you've broken one of my strings. It'll take me a whole month to save for another one.' Said Nicolas after I 'played' his violin.

I bought him a new string and I sat by the fire side drinking wine and crying as he played a dark tune. I didn't know it was the last night I had as a mortal. I was taken away as he slept.

And half way across the city as a vampire, I could still hear him playing, pleading me to come home. I left it too late.


At the end of my song I lowered my violin, not aware of anything around me. I looked ahead as though I was still in my dirty Parisian apartment with him in front of me. Eventually my sight of the present came back and there stood Claudia. It was too late to conceal the blood tears dripping from my chin, I had not even realised I was weeping. I tried to laugh it off but it came out more like a choke. I tried to laugh again but it was mingled with tears.

"Daft, getting so sentimental over a damn song." I said turning my back immediately from her and putting the violin back in the case as though it stung me.

[Claudia]

I sat writing in one of my many journals, I pastime I had developed years ago, during my first life with Louis & Lestat. I wrote regarding a great number of things, and in tonight's entry I wrote of our exploits. Like it was in years long passed, Lestat and I had fed together, and wandered the familiar yet vastly changed New Orleans streets.

As I wrote of our night and other thoughts that I felt needed record, I heard a haunting melody float up from the courtyard. I closed my eyes and listened to the notes, envisioning Lestat lost in his music. He had rarely if ever played in front of me unless it was a sonata on the piano. I must witness this, I must see if the true vision is near that of the one in my mind's eye.

My stockinged feet barely touched the stairs as I moved quickly through the house, aiming for the courtyard. Only when I reached the door did I slow my pace. It was a beautiful and balmy night, the scent of night-blooming jasmine engulfed our home, their vines crawling over fence and wall alike.

My footfalls were silent as I came up upon my Father. So lost in his revere was he that he did not even know I had come. His eyes fluttered as the bow danced across the strings in a familiar melancholy melody. So somber, so haunting. And yet, it was he who looked haunted, as if lost in some memory of his past. I knew so little of him, really. So much of his life before me, before Louis was unknown to me. I hadn't thought to ask beyond searching for answers in regards to our plight as immortal beings. The how, the why. Those questions I asked without ceasing, and answers never came.

I stood before him, watching emotions play across his face just as he played the violin. No longer simply an instrument in his hands, but a thing of untold beauty. The notes he run from it's simple frame and taut strings were full and alive. Blood tears began to fall from his closed eyes, trailing down his high-boned cheeks. I felt within myself a great longing to know what memory he was lost in, what land of thought that brought a soft emotion, a real feeling from this complicated man.

I shook my head, golden curls bouncing. "Non pere, it is not daft. To see such a sentimental side of you touches me. I've perhaps seen it before, long ago, and fleeting. What is it that troubles you, Father? What terrible memory has this brought to you?" I moved close, laying my small hand gently on the violin's case. "Will you tell me? Please?" I circled his neck with my arms, pulling myself close to him, perching myself on his lap. With my thumb I moved to wipe away his blooded tears. It was a gesture of affection, of intimacy, had I ingested his tears, I would share his pain. I ran my fingers through his luxurious hair, resting my head upon his shoulder. "Tell me Father, what troubles you so? Share with me your past, your memories. I am your daughter, am I not?"

[lestat2]

I grabbed her hand that had swiped a tear away from my face. I shook my head. "You musn't touch my blood, understood?" I whispered. "It's sacred." I was afraid that even the tiniest drop would empower her. Her body was so small, her body could be intoxicated with even the smallest drop. I rubbed my face. "Non, this is daft, next I'll be drinking rats or something of the sort."

"If you'd just have read the damn book then you'd know!" I snapped. "You know how I don't like to explain myself." with a sigh, I shook my head again. "I knew a violinist when I was a mortal. We were very close, he became a vampire and eventually killed himself. The violin reminded me of the past." I explained vaguely. If she wanted to find out more she'd have to go read it. I didn't have a book for nothing. I pushed her off my lap and left for my bedroom for some peace.

As I lay on the bed I could not shake Nicolas from my mind and I began to cry again. Oh how I failed my best friend, I should have stayed in Paris, I was his light in a world of darkness, I should have stuck by his side even though he had hated me. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry Nicki." I whispered to myself and to the air. "I miss you." Nicolas was the only one he could ever talk to and no one would ever replace him, not Louis, not Claudia, not David.

(Sorry it's short but I wrote this THREEE TIMES, kept accidentally deleting it)

[Claudia]

((Oh noes! I hate when that happens. Uber frustrating!))

His iron grip on my hand startled me, angered me. What did he fear? That I would become more like him? Did he not know how often I wished to be more than what I was? Did he still not understand? I fought to keep my anger buried deep inside, not to let it out. He was simply trying to keep me from harming myself, from becoming more of a monster, but it bit at me, chewed at my being.

"I only meant to console you, not to taint your precious, sacred blood." I half growled the statement, unable to hide all of my anger. I doubted that I'd ever be able to rid myself of the rage that burned inside me. Even as day came and I slept, I still seethed. For all his gestures, all his words, I was always left with a feeling of wanting. Why did I crave his love so much?!? This evil being who'd as soon kill me as look at me. This dastardly man, my father, the one I'd tried to kill, and yet I seek solace in him. I seek to ease his pain.

I stood there, as he stormed off. "So be it then!" I shouted. I would read these chronicles, the books that detailed far too much of our lives, and I would burn them. For even if I read every word, and I assure you I will, it would not be the same as hearing it from his lips. Printed words on printed paper lacked the very intimacy I sought from Lestat.

Fine, if he would be rid of me, then it shall be as he wishes. No more would I stand for his tantrums, his moodiness. I stomped to my room, ignoring his sobs that echoed from his room. "I hope you drown in your tears, Pere. May you finally find peace. For you will always be alone." I cursed him under my breath, shoving clothes into a small bag in a rush. "I should never have come back. I should have sought a life without you, without you both. For you only bring me pain, much as you've brought it to all those whom you've bestowed the Dark Gift. It is I who was daft to think you had changed Lestat. May you forever rot in your loneliness." He could hear me, low as I spoke, and I cared not.

[lestat2]

'Storm off'. I didn't storm, I just walked away. I'd been gentle with her, even whispered at first and I had pushed not shoved. How was it that she could possibly misunderstand my actions, time and time again, as though to torture me! What tantrums! I was not having a tantrum, I was in pain, I was completely distraught, how could she be so insensitive not to see this? In that moment I missed Louis, although he was a complete moronic bore at times, he knew when to comfort me in silence instead of trying to pester me into talking. All I wanted was that silent comfort with the musty old smell of his clothes, the soothing rub of my back and his quiet whispers.

Blood soaking my face, I moved to her room. I grabbed the bag from her and with a resounding click I locked every door in the house with my mind, maybe a little over dramatic but I was being pushed to my limit. We were trapped in the room together and I would decide when we would leave. "Sit down." I said quietly, calmly and tiredly, it was a respectful request but with authority behind it. "Sometimes I question whether you love me unconditionally, Claudia. The things you say are unnecessary, they're horrible, nasty, harsh, dreadful things, you tell me to drown and rot, you rub it in my face that I have hurt my fledglings by making them what they are." The blood was still dripping down my face, making me seem horrific.

"You tell me I haven't changed but if you were faced with the old Lestat right now you would be screaming for our Louis to stop me. You don't realise how very lenient I am with you, I let you treat me like shit," I spend too much time in modern America, "when I have tried my very best to be kind to you since you've been back. There has been a substantial difference. Yet you twist everything around, absolutely everything. You are trapped in the past. How are we ever meant to be happy if you threaten to run away at the drop of a hat. It's weak, it's selfish, it's petty and above all it's childish and I expected more from you." It's a good thing that vampires don't need to breath while talking.

"If you want to leave, Claudia, then do so, I am not going to stop you if you make the decision while level headed but you can't make such a decision after every single disagreement we have. It's just ridiculous."

"You are so heartless. You truly are. You lack a mortal's heart." I said picking up her music box that we had kept for over a century. "But you are a vampire, so what do I really expect? How can I expect you to understand the pain of losing a friend? How can I expect you to understand mortal love when you can't even remember it? There are so many things that you'll never be able to relate to, you can't understand how I cannot speak of my mortal past and how I was ripped from a life I loved, you just can't understand it." I wasn't saying any of it to be spiteful, it was the truth. Both Louis and I had lost people from our mortal lives that we had loved and yet I doubt Claudia could even remember what her mother truly looked like. She was a vampire brought up in different circumstances.

"Even if I explained to you what it was like, you still would not be able to grasp it. It was an injustice to take a life from you before you could live it but in a way it was merciful because if you'd had a chance to experiance it, to have your mortal future dangled in front of you with family, friends and lovers, to experience the pain of a mortal adult, then to be taken from that life you had tasted and have eternity thinking of what you could have changed to save the ones you love. You were spared that, even if you longed for it."

I wasn't even sure if I was talking to her anymore. I was simply just chattering away while crying, sitting upon the floor, my back against the wall, watching the ballerina spin around in the gentle music of the music box that I spoke over. I was just speaking because I could, not speaking because I had been asked to or forced to. I would sit in front of my laptop like this with a microphone, speaking on end for hours as the computer scribed what I said.

"You say I bring you pain but I don't understand how. It's as though by just existing I cause you pain. I try very hard to make you happy and sometimes it feels as though you don't try at all in return."

[Claudia]

Why did he do this to me? Why did I react so violently to Lestat's every move, every word? Was it that I truly hadn't let go of my animosity toward him? I simply sat on my bed, with a few of my belongings packed. Was I really ready to leave? Having only come back.... Lestat had tried. He continued to try to love me. He'd brought me home. He'd bought me gifts, the easiest way for him to show his adoration. And yet I retaliated against his every word as I if was truly a child, as if I couldn't help it. Who, really, was more guilty of throwing tantrums between the two of us?

I stood again, moving to the vanity, staring at my reflection, pondering how much of the past I continued to hold onto to, and whether or not it was worth it. Why couldn't I just let go? I had watched from beyond the veil as Lestat was challenged, changed. And still I could not entirely separate the man he was now from the man I'd always knew.

I stayed motionless as he entered my room. The resounding click of every lock in the house being turned momentarily confirmed my suspicion that he would not allow me to leave. In a way I was comforted, though I felt restricted. I made every effort to bite back the initial anger. I cut off the thought as soon as it began, that he would try to hold me against my will. I knew however, that his intention was quite different. He meant for me to stay so that we could settle what had just occurred between us. He meant to keep me from leaving in a huff over some paltry disagreement that I'd blown out of proportion. And he was right to do it.

I sat as he instructed, facing him but not looking him in the face. I couldn't bare it to be honest. The tears that I had caused running over the tears his memories had evoked. I could not face him nor look him in the eye and admit I may have been wrong. Though I knew I had been even before he began speaking.

I listened attentively, fighting back my own bloody tears. Every word, as sharp and stinging as they were, rang true. I was a fool. I was rash. I was fueled by a burning wrath that seemed to leave me in a state of perpetual rage. I lashed out at the slightest motion that I took as an offense. It was childish. I should know better than to act or speak without thought. And I still seemed unable to do just that, especially when it came to my fathers. I was far too sensitive in some ways, and always in regards to them. It is undeniable that you always hurt the ones you love. Much as I had hurt Lestat by being so terribly rotten to him.

I could no longer keep the tears at bay, and only then did I look directly at him. "You are right, Pere. I am a fool. I am heartless and cruel, and you do not deserve all my wrath. I think perhaps I am angry with myself most of all, and yet I consistently take it out on you, while sparing Louis of my rage. It is unfair to be so biased, when I truly do love both of you equally. I do not know if I can ever make this right between us. I have wronged you more than you have wronged me." The tears came in a flood now as I looked at his own blood-stained face that mine was quickly mirroring. "I am sorry, Father. I cause you so much pain, continually, and often purposely. Perhaps it would have been best if I had never returned to New Orleans." Or that I'd never have chosen to cross back through the veil as Merrick had escorted Goblin.