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.