Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

“Men are dogs. Train ‘em right, keep ‘em clean, and you won’t have no problems,” was his Mama’s marriage advice.

Not for Louis, of course. This was wisdom given to Grace in the privacy of his sister’s bedroom. Except, Grace had left the door cracked and begged Louis to keep an ear out in case Mama’s mercurial mood shifted dark and Grace needed an emergency distraction for rescue. Louis didn’t mind being called in as backup; he could withstand diving between his sweet sister and their fire-breathing Mama.

So, Louis had been inconspicuously pacing in the hallway outside and heard his Mama’s apparent wisdom. Absent-mindedly spinning his yo-yo and mentally tracing the patterns of the thick, auburn rug he walked. He’d huffed to himself in shocked amusement. These words seemed so divergent from any marriage lessons Louis had ever received from his father who was always yammering about power, force and control.

“You need a man. That’s the fact of this life. So, find a decent one and make him into what you need.”

Louis obsequiously continued his nearby pacing though he tuned the rest of the conversation out. What did he need with marriage guidance? His parents would choose his wife and ensure she was dutiful. He wouldn’t need to know or fear her potential machinations because he would be a dutiful husband in turn.

Eventually, the creak of furniture disrupted his idle thoughts, and he scurried round the corner to watch his Mama finally depart. Darting into her room, Louis asked if Grace was alright, fully expecting a detailed summation of Mama’s lecture. But Grace simply thanked him for standing guard with her polite company smile and sent him on his way.

The entire afternoon was slowly forgotten in the mental molasses of age.

Louis thinks about his Mama’s advice often in the days turned weeks turned years after Lestat dropped him from the sky. Listening to springy marrow reconnect his bones and watching his pores regrowing hair on the skin of his chest leaves him with nothing but time to think.

There’s some regret. He’d missed his own Mama giving a roadmap to husband corralling. He could have paid attention to his Mama’s words at that moment. At the very least, he could have asked his sister more questions afterwards. Instead, Louis is left with the results of a wild dog husband.

When had Louis ever effectively trained Lestat? Upheld a standard for his husband and head of household? Told Lestat he expected more? Never in words, and clearly ineffectively in deed. Louis hadn’t curbed the cheating, the wild spending or the violent fits of shouting rage. So, it makes sense that he’s now a victim of the chaos he’s allowed to fester.

Louis wishes he could ask his Mama for her counsel. Is this salvageable? He longs to ask her. How big of a misstep did I make marrying him? Louis finds himself full of earnest curiosity for what his Mama would make of his union and his man. Outside of disgust, how would she regard Louis’ efforts as a spouse?

It’s no matter of course, whatever direction she’d have for the interim, he knows what her resolution would be. After all, though his Mama would die at the sight of her son in a queer marriage, she would roll in her grave to see him divorced. He knows what his Mama would do in his shoes. There’s nothing for Louis to do but endure. 

It feels entirely too late in their union for pet training. Louis dropped that ball long ago and has no hope of recovering it.

Chapter Text

“Men are dogs. Train ‘em right, keep ‘em clean, and you won’t have no problems,” is Louis’ dating advice.

Claudia’s face is blazing hot, and her eyes are riveted to her toes. She thought she’d done a good job concealing her crush from her dads, carefully practicing shielding her thoughts and burying Charlie’s gifts in the fluff and pandemonium of her closet—Louis spent a lot less time in there since she turned 18. 

Still, here Louis is. Standing in the doorway of her room, arms crossed, and eyes nauseatingly warm. It’s humiliating.

“I know things between your uncle and I are a little unconventional, but you’re still a young lady so there’s certain things you gotta keep in mind if you gon’ be datin’.” Claudia valiantly overcomes her embarrassment to briefly meet Louis’ eyes.

“You not mad?” she manages to ask, crossing her own arms over her chest in imitation of her dad. Louis sighs, rolling his head in a full circle before fixing her with a stern look.

“I wish you’d come to me first. If only for your safety—” Claudia scoffs loudly. Louis waits for her silence before continuing. “But no. I’m not mad. You’re growin’ up.” His voice breaks off with a warble then. Claudia sighs deeply, affection in her tone.

“Alright, Daddy,” she says, hopping off her bed and walking towards him. “Don’ worry. I’ll eat any boy who gives me trouble. I promise, kay?” She asks with a sweet smile. Louis smiles tenderly back down at her before she clutches the handle to her door.

“Okay, good talk, Daddy. Bye!” She grins widely before slowly closing the door in Louis’ laughing face. 

Claudia thinks about her Daddy’s advice often in the seconds turned minutes turned hours after he slits Lestat’s neck.

Daddy Lou is full of shit. Sobbing and screaming on the floor, ruining all her hard work. Grieving the mothafucka who threw him from the goddamned sky. She wants to laugh. She’ll probably cry.

What trainin’ did Daddy Lou ever give Uncle Les? Lestat who ran their home with tyrannical, mercurial chaos for years. What did Louis know about taming men? From all the moanin’, groanin’ and wood creakin’ she’s heard over the years she’s gathered Lou knew how to fuck Lestat and that’s about all he’s managed throughout their union.

Not for the first time, Claudia wishes she’d never returned home. Here she was, tryin’ to free Louis from the consequences of his own imbecilic decisions, and she’d ended up trapped herself like a mosquito in amber. Only she was stuck worse because Louis was weaker than she’d ever seen him.

And here were the consequences of his weakness: sniveling like a child over a vile, vindictive creature that tried to kill her less than three hours ago, wasting good blood all over their imported tiles. She could leave him here, she knows; let Louis’ grief swallow him alive like a swamp gator.

But her own pride stalls her departure. Louis is hers. She outsmarted Lestat, and now the prize is Louis all to herself, pathetic as he is. Besides, her travel plans will unfold more smoothly with a grown man by her side. Resolved, she moves to stand over her remaining father.

Maybe Louis’ advice can be useful after all.

“Get up, Louis,” she orders. “We’re leaving.”