† The Brat Queen †

DISCLAIMER: The following stories are all non-profit, amateur efforts not intended to infringe on the rights of Tom Cruise, Brad Pitt, David Geffen, Warner Brothers, Geffen Pictures, Knopf, Randomhouse, the city of New Orleans, the U.S. Constitution, any copyright holders that I might not have thought of or even a certain author who shall remain nameless but who has a set of initials which are, coincidentally enough, just one letter off from spelling "B.S."

The Conversation Begins
by The Brat Queen

DEDICATION: Cindy, who begged for it. The spec I mean. Not that she doesn't beg for other things but hey I'm her wife and we're allowed.
CHARACTERS: Lestat, Nicki
SPOILERS: TVL

I was violently ill when I woke up.

Granted, I was used to that by then.

Still, this time it was different. Changed, somehow. As I let my body heave out the last of the poison a molecule of thought inside of my brain tried to light itself and gather my attention.

Was it a dream I had had? I probed this thought, trying to see if it had merit. No, it hadn't been a dream. I moved that thought aside as I searched my room for a pitcher of water, glad when I found one and even more glad to see that the cold mountain air had kept its temperature very chilly. I used my shirt from the day before as a rag, soaking it with the water and wiping my face clean.

I'd woken up from a colossal drunk. Somewhere in my mind came the figure that at least 5 bottles of wine had been ordered.

God!

I nearly became sick again when the small thought finally flared into life.

Nicolas de Lenfent. I'd spent the entire day with him.

This required serious thinking. Grabbing a fresh change of clothes I stole outside. Keeping out of sight of everyone in the castle I made my way through the woods to the small lake just north of us. It was well hidden from most and I knew I could be alone there. I quickly shed all of my clothes and dove into the icy cold water. The shock of temperature made me gasp and retch yet again but I forced myself to endure it.

What had I done?

A hot, embarrassing flush covered me. I abandoned the water finally, my limbs becoming too frozen by fear to keep me afloat. I sat on the bank instead, shivering more from emotion than temperature.

Visions flashed in my mind. My father. My brothers humiliating me in front of the villagers. Nicolas presenting the cloak and boots to me. Augustin mocking me. Nicolas kissing me.

Nicolas kissing me again in the inn.

I lay back against the grass, hitting my head on the hard earth then sitting up again when this position brought no comfort. Finally I began to pace.

Too much to consider. My brothers would destroy this before me if they found out. My father would do all he could to prevent it. Gabrielle would enjoy credit for it and I -

And I wanted it, God damn it all. I wanted it!

I could envision Nicolas in my mind. I could see his expression as we had talked. The way he had deferred to me as a nobleman's son but happily seized upon the familiar when I insisted. The way the cynicism had faded from his face when he saw my rapture at his music playing. The way he'd carried me home when we'd both had too much to drink to stand properly.

Yes. This was right. This was perfect. This was the thing that I wanted. I could feel a passion for it inside of me as I'd felt with the actors and the monastery. This was something real and alive. Something that was good in the world and banished so much bad.

I gathered up my things, dressing quickly and stopping only a moment to return the extra clothes to my bedroom and clean myself up. Once I was certain I was presentable I made my way into the town. It was not even fifteen minutes later before I found I was standing in the crooked stone street of his father's shop, tossing pebbles up at the window.

When he stuck his head out I said:

"Do you want to come down and go on with our conversation?"

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