Little notes:

For me Aro is the youngest of the three Volturi, I don't know why, but I think that he's the youngest - maybe because is the one with more fantasy, I don't know XD

Marcus is the classic crazy/smart vampire (for me, the first time, he wasn't good, but evil and really cruel .?docid=21542617ù.ù), but this story is sets before Didyme's transformation.

The word "lucullan" comes from the name of an ancient Roman man: Lucullo. He used to banquet in a very exaggerated way (.org/wiki/Lucullus) Today, this word means lavish, luxurious and gourmet.

The title is in Latin and it's means: lucullan sin, or, more simply, a sin made of luxury and gluttony.

Hope you like it (:

P.S. English it's not my first language, so, sorry if you find some mistakes, I've done my best (:


Lucullianum Peccatum

The hall seemed to blow up with smells: the incense was burning on the little delicate plates of golden silver in the corner of the room, the rose-water in which the little fat fingers were washed, the fragrance of the bread, the strong smell of the meat, the gentle aroma of the exotic fruits.

Aro, in that smells' apotheosis, had almost forgotten the stench of those bodies, greased with oil, which was stuck to the sweaty skins, producing an unpleasant effect.

With the eyes, which slowly became darker, he raked the hall and noticed all the particulars. It looked like he was drinking the more intimate essence, letting it slip into his mind, as his neighbour let the wine slip into his mouth.

Still, something seemed to erode him from inside.

His throat burned and his lower lip was now lacerated from the fangs, trembling even more, ready to take life.

Who knows whose.

He heard Marcus' smooth laugh, while he was talking to a fat woman; he heard the hee-haw of Caius, too much wrapped out pouring wine on wine out in his goblet.

But Aro didn't need it. It was his first banquet in which he took part ,and humanity was still flowing in his veins; he was excited, enraptured by all that difference.

Everything was, but, at the same time, it wasn't.

He knew that people around him were human creatures, but, meanwhile, he couldn't recognize them; they appeared to him as strange beings, who prattled, guffawed, shook.

And were tempting him.

He didn't almost see the expert gesture of Marcus, who drew up to himself his first prey; the way he put his arm around her waist, in an embrace of elegance and bestiality; the creak of Caius' victim's fingers.

Nobody noticed anything. The bodies were left inactive on the purple tricliniums.

And Aro decided. He brutally attacked a woman; he tightened her with so much strength to feel her bones breaking.

But he didn't care, nothing mattered! It was pure ecstasy and pure drunkenness.

He drunk, thirsty, his mouth was flooded by the warmth of mortal essence.

In the hall the laughs and the chats still resounded. But, little by little, they were extinguished.

One by one the guests ended their stories, their anecdotes in the jaws of the three vampires.

When even the very last of them was killed the three Volturi looked to each other: they were breathless, with half-closed eyes and dirty lips.

The first who sneered was Caius, full and drunk he rose, reeled.

Marcus, more graceful, left the body, which lay on him, falling down.

Aro was still groping, as the blood in his veins was paralysing him, trapping him.

Now there wasn't any fragrance, nor incense, nor roses' scent, but only the pungent smell of blood.

-Good meal- joked Caius, leaving the room peacefully, breaking the neck of the last slave who was trying to help the poor victims.

The domus burned and they saw it collapsing, there, out and amused, in a grotesque way.

Marcus laughed, sagaciously: -Almost lucullan, I would say-