New Year' s Eve
By Absolut.
Disclaimer: The characters of Hannibal Lecter and Clarice Starling do not belong to me, but to the brilliant Thomas Harris. I'm just borrowing them for a night. Jehan and Mumtaz story was borroed from Saumya Lashkari.Borrowing is only a mark of admiration. No copyright infringement intended. No profit either. So no need to sue me.
The hood of the Rolls Royce was down and the evening wind was brushing Clarice' s face and hair. The scent of the indian night was heady. She had a look at Hannibal. He was driving fast and seemed concentrated on the road. They had hardly talked since they had left New Delhi, about one hour ago. The roads were deserted on this New Year' s Eve.
She sighed. He looked gorgeous in his black tuxedo and once again the simple thought of being with him overwhelmed her. When she had woken up this morning, he was already dressed and having his breakfast. She was certain he had been watching her sleep for a long time. She had joined him and after a long kiss had asked him what were the plans for their evening. He had smiled mischievously and told her it was a surprise.
He had left her right after breakfast, arguing he still had a few things to prepare. The night had fallen when he had returned to their hotel room, carrying a little box. "It is for you, Clarice. Open it." he had said, and then he had laid down on the bed watching her intensely. She had opened the parcel and found the most beautiful dress she had ever seen. She had looked at him in disbelief. He was smiling, but nothing to do with this ferocious smile that had once scared people to death. It was all tenderness
" - Hannibal ! I cannot wear that. It's too ... It's too beautiful. I will never dare ...
- I had it made specially for you. The most beautiful dress for the most beautiful woman ... My woman."
She had joined him on the bed and they had made love passionately. Then they had both prepared and left the room. The Rolls was waiting for them at the door of the hotel. Hannibal had opened the door for her, tipped generously the chauffeur and settled in the driver' s seat. Then they had left in the night. And there she was, in her wonderful attire, seating next to the man she loved like she had never loved anyone before.
The voice of Hannibal pulled her out of her reverie.
" - Sorry, I did not hear you." she said.
" - I was just asking if you were not cold.
- Oh no. That's perfect." Then after a while: "You won't tell me where we are going, will you ?
- Nope. It would spoil the surprise." Hannibal got the smile on her face. He added: "But I think you will like it.
- And I am supposed to trust you, right ?
- Of course, my dear. That's part of the plan.
- I see ..."
They had arrived at a junction and Hannibal turned left. He had a brief look at her. She was extraordinary ... As delicate as a china, and yet so strong. Even stronger now than when he took her away one year ago. She had got rid of the ghosts that were haunting her in a way he had not expected. It had been like a new birth ... for both of them. Clarice had never expressed any regret or any will to go from him and yet ... the importance of the moment they were going to live was making him nervous. Hannibal Lecter was aware of his incredible talent for guessing others. But he knew Clarice Starling was the one human being he would never be able to know completely. And that made him chill with pleasure.
" - Where were you ?" he asked after a few minutes. She looked at him puzzled. "You were not listening to me. Where have you been ?
- Oh. I was just thinking.
- Happy thoughts ?"
She put her hand on his thigh. "Yes" she answered. "I was thinking of you."
The trip went on for about another fifteen minutes. Then Hannibal parked the car behind some trees by the side of the road. "Here we are" he said. He stepped out of the car and went to open her door. He took her hand and helped her out. "Where are we ?" she asked. He put his finger on her lips to keep her silent. Then he took a handkerchief from his pocket, put it on her eyes and tied it behind her head. Clarice was blind, entirely at his mercy. But she felt no fear.
"Trust me" he whispered in her ear. Then he wrapped his arms on her shoulders and guided her gently. They walked like this for what seemed to Clarice about ten minutes. They finally stopped and he put his hands on her shoulder to make her rotate. She felt his hands in her hair and soon her blindfold was gone.
Clarice blinked and when she finally opened her eyes, the sight was prodigious. In front of them was standing a white marble palace, about 200 ft high. The palace was resting on a square plinth, made of marble as well. Four tall minarets, crowned with windowed cupolas, rose at each of its corners. Floodlights were illuminating the monument from below and the vision was fantastic. Clarice was breathless. She squeezed Hannibal' s hand. He responded to the pressure and bent his head to her neck. "Happy New Year, my love" he whispered.
Clarice glanced at her watch. It was exactly midnight. She stared at him. His blue eyes were sparkling with desire. She pulled his head to her and gave him a long kiss.
When they finally parted, Clarice had a second look around. They were standing in a broad alley bordered with cypress. In the middle of it, a table had been dressed with a damask tablecloth, the finest china and crystal glasses. Candlesticks were waiting to be lit. Meals were arranged, covered, on a sideboard. "Hannibal," she said out of breath, "where are we ? Whose palace is this ?".
He took her hand and led her to the chair he had pulled for her, so that she was facing the palace. Once Clarice was seated, Hannibal kneeled before her. He had kept her hand in his. He delicately kissed it.
"They call it the Taj Mahal." he started. "It is not a palace, but a mausoleum. It was build in the seventeenth century by Shah Jehan, the fifth mughal emperor. Before he became an emperor, the prince had married Mumtaz Mahal. It was a true love marriage. Mumtaz was her husband's inseparable companion on all his journeys and military expeditions. She was his comrade, his counselor, and inspired him to acts of charity and benevolence towards the weak and the needy. She bore him fourteen children, and died in childbed in 1630. Overpowered by grief, Shah Jehan was determined to perpetuate her memory for immortality and decided to build his beloved wife the finest sepulcher ever - a monument of eternal love ... The Taj Mahal."
Hannibal' s gaze was so intense that it made Clarice tremble. "Hannibal ... " her voice was shaking. He did not let her finish her sentence. He had to tell her what he had brought her there for. He had to tell her now, before his courage faded.
" Clarice ... I love you. I love you as Shah Jehan loved Mumtaz Mahal. And I want to spend the rest of my life with you. I want you, for eternity. Clarice, I cannot offer you a wedding before God and men ..." Clarice bent her head, breaking their eye contact. Hannibal took her chin in his hand and raised her face to him. His voice lowered until it became a mere whisper. "Clarice Starling, would you marry me before Shah Jehan and Mumtaz Mahal ?"
A single tear rolled down Clarice' s cheeks. Neither of them tried to wipe it away. After a time that seemed an eternity to Hannibal, Clarice simply answered: "Now ... and for a thousand years."
- The End -
Thanks for reading. Reviews are as usual MOST welcome ...
Absolut.
By Absolut.
Disclaimer: The characters of Hannibal Lecter and Clarice Starling do not belong to me, but to the brilliant Thomas Harris. I'm just borrowing them for a night. Jehan and Mumtaz story was borroed from Saumya Lashkari.Borrowing is only a mark of admiration. No copyright infringement intended. No profit either. So no need to sue me.
The hood of the Rolls Royce was down and the evening wind was brushing Clarice' s face and hair. The scent of the indian night was heady. She had a look at Hannibal. He was driving fast and seemed concentrated on the road. They had hardly talked since they had left New Delhi, about one hour ago. The roads were deserted on this New Year' s Eve.
She sighed. He looked gorgeous in his black tuxedo and once again the simple thought of being with him overwhelmed her. When she had woken up this morning, he was already dressed and having his breakfast. She was certain he had been watching her sleep for a long time. She had joined him and after a long kiss had asked him what were the plans for their evening. He had smiled mischievously and told her it was a surprise.
He had left her right after breakfast, arguing he still had a few things to prepare. The night had fallen when he had returned to their hotel room, carrying a little box. "It is for you, Clarice. Open it." he had said, and then he had laid down on the bed watching her intensely. She had opened the parcel and found the most beautiful dress she had ever seen. She had looked at him in disbelief. He was smiling, but nothing to do with this ferocious smile that had once scared people to death. It was all tenderness
" - Hannibal ! I cannot wear that. It's too ... It's too beautiful. I will never dare ...
- I had it made specially for you. The most beautiful dress for the most beautiful woman ... My woman."
She had joined him on the bed and they had made love passionately. Then they had both prepared and left the room. The Rolls was waiting for them at the door of the hotel. Hannibal had opened the door for her, tipped generously the chauffeur and settled in the driver' s seat. Then they had left in the night. And there she was, in her wonderful attire, seating next to the man she loved like she had never loved anyone before.
The voice of Hannibal pulled her out of her reverie.
" - Sorry, I did not hear you." she said.
" - I was just asking if you were not cold.
- Oh no. That's perfect." Then after a while: "You won't tell me where we are going, will you ?
- Nope. It would spoil the surprise." Hannibal got the smile on her face. He added: "But I think you will like it.
- And I am supposed to trust you, right ?
- Of course, my dear. That's part of the plan.
- I see ..."
They had arrived at a junction and Hannibal turned left. He had a brief look at her. She was extraordinary ... As delicate as a china, and yet so strong. Even stronger now than when he took her away one year ago. She had got rid of the ghosts that were haunting her in a way he had not expected. It had been like a new birth ... for both of them. Clarice had never expressed any regret or any will to go from him and yet ... the importance of the moment they were going to live was making him nervous. Hannibal Lecter was aware of his incredible talent for guessing others. But he knew Clarice Starling was the one human being he would never be able to know completely. And that made him chill with pleasure.
" - Where were you ?" he asked after a few minutes. She looked at him puzzled. "You were not listening to me. Where have you been ?
- Oh. I was just thinking.
- Happy thoughts ?"
She put her hand on his thigh. "Yes" she answered. "I was thinking of you."
The trip went on for about another fifteen minutes. Then Hannibal parked the car behind some trees by the side of the road. "Here we are" he said. He stepped out of the car and went to open her door. He took her hand and helped her out. "Where are we ?" she asked. He put his finger on her lips to keep her silent. Then he took a handkerchief from his pocket, put it on her eyes and tied it behind her head. Clarice was blind, entirely at his mercy. But she felt no fear.
"Trust me" he whispered in her ear. Then he wrapped his arms on her shoulders and guided her gently. They walked like this for what seemed to Clarice about ten minutes. They finally stopped and he put his hands on her shoulder to make her rotate. She felt his hands in her hair and soon her blindfold was gone.
Clarice blinked and when she finally opened her eyes, the sight was prodigious. In front of them was standing a white marble palace, about 200 ft high. The palace was resting on a square plinth, made of marble as well. Four tall minarets, crowned with windowed cupolas, rose at each of its corners. Floodlights were illuminating the monument from below and the vision was fantastic. Clarice was breathless. She squeezed Hannibal' s hand. He responded to the pressure and bent his head to her neck. "Happy New Year, my love" he whispered.
Clarice glanced at her watch. It was exactly midnight. She stared at him. His blue eyes were sparkling with desire. She pulled his head to her and gave him a long kiss.
When they finally parted, Clarice had a second look around. They were standing in a broad alley bordered with cypress. In the middle of it, a table had been dressed with a damask tablecloth, the finest china and crystal glasses. Candlesticks were waiting to be lit. Meals were arranged, covered, on a sideboard. "Hannibal," she said out of breath, "where are we ? Whose palace is this ?".
He took her hand and led her to the chair he had pulled for her, so that she was facing the palace. Once Clarice was seated, Hannibal kneeled before her. He had kept her hand in his. He delicately kissed it.
"They call it the Taj Mahal." he started. "It is not a palace, but a mausoleum. It was build in the seventeenth century by Shah Jehan, the fifth mughal emperor. Before he became an emperor, the prince had married Mumtaz Mahal. It was a true love marriage. Mumtaz was her husband's inseparable companion on all his journeys and military expeditions. She was his comrade, his counselor, and inspired him to acts of charity and benevolence towards the weak and the needy. She bore him fourteen children, and died in childbed in 1630. Overpowered by grief, Shah Jehan was determined to perpetuate her memory for immortality and decided to build his beloved wife the finest sepulcher ever - a monument of eternal love ... The Taj Mahal."
Hannibal' s gaze was so intense that it made Clarice tremble. "Hannibal ... " her voice was shaking. He did not let her finish her sentence. He had to tell her what he had brought her there for. He had to tell her now, before his courage faded.
" Clarice ... I love you. I love you as Shah Jehan loved Mumtaz Mahal. And I want to spend the rest of my life with you. I want you, for eternity. Clarice, I cannot offer you a wedding before God and men ..." Clarice bent her head, breaking their eye contact. Hannibal took her chin in his hand and raised her face to him. His voice lowered until it became a mere whisper. "Clarice Starling, would you marry me before Shah Jehan and Mumtaz Mahal ?"
A single tear rolled down Clarice' s cheeks. Neither of them tried to wipe it away. After a time that seemed an eternity to Hannibal, Clarice simply answered: "Now ... and for a thousand years."
Thanks for reading. Reviews are as usual MOST welcome ...
Absolut.