Disclaimer: I don't own neither Hannibal not His Dark Materials. A few lines that you might recognize were borrowed from the show.
1.
"It's weird," Adilet said, again.
Jack scratched her behind the ears as she leaned into his side. She was almost too large to fit under his desk and leave room for his legs, but they had learned to get by over the years. It was better for her to be out of sight in case of visitors, her size and weight making her automatically frightening to any other daemon. They were used to it, though, seeing as her Great Dane form was one of the biggest he's ever seen, and fear was not an unreasonable response. There were very, very few daemons that were at ease in Adilet's presence.
Will's Tisiphone never feared them. Despite her human's eternal twitchiness, despite her slender, delicate body, she was always still and silent and wary when they were in the same room, but never afraid.
It was weird, but then again, so was Will.
"It's not," Jack denied half-heartedly.
It was.
Addie nipped his fingers lightly, in reproach for lying. "It is," she hissed, as if not wanting the people they were talking about to hear. Never mind that neither Will nor Hannibal were in the building. "Angerona's a snake! A king cobra! And do you know what mongooses eat?!" she asked, obviously not expecting an answer. She shifted even closer to him, placing her enormous head in his lap, brown eyes staring upwards. "Snakes, Jack!"
Jack sighed. The thing was, Addie was right. It was definitely not normal for people with such opposites for daemons to get on as well as Will and Hannibal seemingly did. Sure, the form of one's soul was not all you are, but it was most of what you were, and while the friendships and even romantic relationships between people with animals that were natural enemies did exist, such things were rare. Almost non-existent when one of the daemons was a direct predator for the other. It went against every instinct ingrained in both humans and their souls.
But Angerona… To Jack's eternal bafflement Angerona almost seemed smitten.
It could be the novelty of it, Jack supposed. Hannibal's daemon was one of the most poisonous snakes in the world, certainly always the most dangerous daemon in the room. Tisiphone was quite possibly the first real threat she had encountered since she settled.
It must have been thrilling, the feeling of finally being the one in danger.
Hannibal seemed to relish it, at least, if the number of conversations was any indication.
"They're friends, Addie," he said, patting her head. "Despite their daemons. And Will needs all the friends he can get." And wasn't that the truth.
She thought about it for a moment. "Well," she said, finally, dropping heavily on the ground, her head sliding from Jack's lap. "He does seem to be doing better at the crime scenes." Jack agreed silently. Will was more at ease, well-rested, and sharper than ever. The rate they were going through the crimes was astonishing, especially after his illness had been treated. "And Tisiphone actually spoke the other day. Not to me, of course, but to Wafi. He was delighted."
Jack couldn't help but to look down in surprise. Tisiphone was quite possibly the most introverted daemon he has ever seen. Before Hannibal and Angerona, she only ever spoke to Alana and her blue jay, sometimes to Abigail Hobbs' shrike, and, on one memorable occasion, to Adilet. (She had snapped at the Great Dane, in the days when Will had been sick, and Jack had pushed and pushed and pushed. He had never seen the usually even-tempered mongoose so coldly furious.) Beverly must have been as delighted as her daemon. She was awfully fond of Will.
"That's good, isn't it?" he asked, not expecting the obvious answer. "They're happier. And saner." Which was, Jack would admit if only to himself and his soul, more important to him. "And besides," he continued, when Addie failed to comment. "We were the ones who introduced them. We wanted them to talk. We can't take it back now, Addie."
His daemon let out a huff, her tail thumping once, heavily, on the floor. "I know," she mumbled. "Still, it's weird."
Jack sighed and picked up the pen to continue going through the pile of paperwork. "Yes, it is."
.
.
2.
"For the first time in a long while, I see a possibility of friendship."
Bedelia barely managed to mask her shock, but Tushar wasn't so fortunate. The otter's tail, resting on her shoulder, twitched noticeably, and she could just see Angerona's hungry gaze following the movement.
Hannibal kept talking, answering her questions, but it was his daemon that unnerved her, as always. They were more relaxed in her home, than anywhere else, she suspected, even if their masks never slipped. They were carefully crafted masks, well-made and flawless, and it came as no surprise that most people believed them unconditionally and never looked beneath the surface. Still, Hannibal sometimes spoke of things that no sane, well-adjusted member of society would even think of, and Angerona was always so still, predatory silent, in a way that made Tushar incredibly nervous.
They were dangerous, the two of them, more dangerous than anyone she has ever met.
She couldn't help but be immeasurably curious about a man that would prompt them to actually feel genuine emotion.
"Whose friendship are you considering?" she asked, though she suspected the answer. There was only one person that had come up more than once in their sessions.
"Will Graham," Hannibal answered, and there was a smile lingering at his lips, almost honest, as Angerona hissed something to him, under her breath.
This time there was no surprise to mask. Will Graham seemed to be the person foremost in Hannibal's thoughts. He was mentioned at almost every meeting they had, brief, casual mentions that Hannibal sometimes let slip by, and, on one occasion, a subject of a lengthy discussion. Bedelia was only aware of the bare bones about him, but the other doctor's interest, bordering on obsession, was noticeable.
Graham had overdeveloped empathy disorder, she knew, and the thing Hannibal craved more than anything else on this world was understanding. He was satisfied with her, for now, with her rudimentary, incomplete picture of him that she could barely glimpse, but Will Graham promised to be his greatest dream, an equal partner, and that… that was not a chance Hannibal would ever miss.
It was Tushar who finally asked the question they both wanted the answer for, just when their patients were leaving. The otter gripped her shoulders tightly with his paws as he spoke to Angerona, the only sign of his nervousness, but his voice was steady. "Tell me, please, what is Will Graham's daemon?"
Hannibal's lips quirked up as the snake wrapped around him hissed her amusement. He had anticipated the question. "Tisiphone is a mongoose," he said and left.
Of course.
Bedelia understood now. A mongoose daemon would've caught their attention, the empathy would have made them only more interested, and Graham's personality likely did the rest. It would appeal to Hannibal, the inherent danger a man with a mongoose for a soul would represent. The symbolism, the dichotomy of a king cobra and a mongoose would provide an impossible-to-resist temptation.
No wonder Hannibal and Angerona were obsessed.
Will Graham and Tisiphone seemed to be made to intrigue them.
.
.
3.
"Will seems to be doing better."
Alana nodded mutely as she observed Will's lecture. He was animated these days, more alive than ever, and had even made eye-contact with some of the students today. Tisiphone, too, has improved greatly in the last few weeks, her russet fur shinning in the light, all the shades of red and brown blending one into another. She was as beautiful as she had been when they had first met, healthy and strong. Alana could be no more grateful.
She remembered with a pang in her chest, her friend lying in the hospital bed, pale and in pain, the mongoose cuddled up to him as she would never usually do in public. It scared her to think that Will would've died if Hannibal and Tisiphone hadn't realized something was wrong.
She reached with her hand to the blue jay perched on her shoulder for comfort. Elisedd leaned into her touch readily.
"I think he's enjoying it, actually," Elisedd murmured into her ear, fluffing his jewel-bright feathers as he spoke. He had always been beautiful to her, even before he settled and had a propensity for taking shapes of simple hares and shaggy dogs, but after he chose his final form both of them had been delighted. Hannibal liked it, she always remembered, said it was unique. And Tisiphone had once called them pretty.
She could not help but to be a little vain about Elisedd's looks after that.
And he was right, of course. She suspected that Will liked teaching almost as much as the FBI work, despite his occasional complaints on both. And these days, now that he was more comfortable in his skin, no longer twitching and shying away from every contact, he was in the mindset to properly appreciate the job.
She was glad for him, she really was. He needed some kind of normalcy in his life after coming back from Jack's gruesome cases.
"We should invite them for lunch," she suggested. It would be nice to spend some time with Will and Tisiphone that was not tainted by blood and gore of crime scenes or crime scene photos.
Elisedd tittered in her ear, wings fluttering, gently brushing her neck and cheeks. "Too late. We've been beaten," he said and tilted his head toward the entrance. Alana couldn't stifle a surprised gasp when she saw Hannibal leaning casually against the doorway, in his hand a bag that looked suspiciously like it contained his homemade food. Angerona's sleek, sinuous form had clearly been wrapped around him just seconds ago, but as soon as the students were allowed to leave, she slipped from his shoulders and started moving towards the center of the room.
They were so focused on Will and Tisiphone that Alana was not surprised she went unnoticed.
The mongoose noticed the new arrival first, ears twitching as she turned around. As soon as she saw Angerona, she scrambled to the floor and greeted the snake with a friendly sniff. Will took only a second more to realize they had company and when he saw the bag in Hannibal's hand, his lips quirked upwards as if he wanted to smile.
Ah. That explained some things.
Alana left. They didn't notice her.
"You're sad," Elisedd said, fluttering slowly beside her. Alana nodded mutely. She truly liked them, both of them, and she had though that Will, at least, felt the same. She knew that it was unreasonable to expect him to wait for her to allow him to make a move, but still…
"You shouldn't be sad," her daemon continued, seemingly not paying attention to her internal musings. "I like Angerona and Tisiphone, but they're not for us. They would've eaten us alive and you know it," he said, and the worst thing was, he was right. Both Hannibal and Will were complicated, complex personalities that she would not be able to not analyze, causing them to snap at her, cruelly, sharply, from sheer self-preservation.
She would lose their friendship in the end.
No, let them be complicated, complex people together.
She suspected that both of them would enjoy the challenge.
.
.
+1
"I wonder," Will mused out loud, as he carefully piled food onto his plate. "Would you have told me about the encephalitis if Tisiphone hadn't smelled it?"
Hannibal paused with his fork halfway to his mouth. It was not a surprising question, but the timing, months after the agent's hospitalization, certainly was. He had expected it to come up much earlier, when Will had first discovered his propensity for… unethical medical practices, but his friend was strangely silent on the matter, apparently waiting for the right moment to surprise him.
It thrilled something deep inside Hannibal that he could still be surprised.
He lowered his fork slowly, placing a hand on Angerona's scales for reassurance. She was curled on top of the table, her shining body completely relaxed against the warm form of the mongoose resting beside her. A mongoose that, despite Will's seemingly angry question, had not moved an inch from his place beside Hannibal's soul.
Something tight in his chest loosened.
"I would," he said, choosing his words slowly and with care. Will would catch ever slip. "Eventually," he admitted, truthfully.
Will raised an eyebrow even as Tisiphone thumped against the snake with her long tail in rebuke. "Eventually?"
Hannibal smiled and leaned forward. "When you were sick, your inhibitions were lowered, dear Will. It was… of interest to us."
Will's face was still, hard, as if carved from stone, but his eyes lit up with realization. He exchanged a speaking glance with his soul, nodding sharply, and Tisiphone finally hauled herself up from her comfortable sprawl, clambering over the snake, and stopping just shy of touching Hannibal's hand. His breath caught in his lungs as she sniffed at him.
The mongoose looked at him, and her eyes were clever and knowing. "You smell of old blood," she said, meaningfully, Will observing his reaction like a hawk. "And you've been awfully interested about our feelings about murder."
Hannibal's heart was beating loudly. Intellectually, he knew that neither Will not his daemon could hear it, but he imagined them doing so, hearing their guilt plainly written in the frantic beats of his heart. He had known it, of course. He had always known that Will and Tisiphone would be the ones to figure it all out, and yet he had been unable to stay away.
He wondered if they would try to kill him.
He wondered if he would resist, if it came to that.
"I wasn't aware," Hannibal said, and watched as Will's face shifted, as Tisiphone snorted, as Angerona coiled tighter, ready to strike.
There was a long moment of drawn-out, painful silence.
And then the mongoose spoke. "Will and I decided long ago that we like your company," she said, sliding even closer. Hannibal felt the insane urge to reach out, to caress the soft-looking fur, to bury his hands in the autumn-colored coat. It surprised him, that need, because, for all that he routinely broke the taboo about consumption of human flesh, he had never before felt the need to break the great Taboo about touching a daemon not his own. "So stop worrying," she finished and licked him casually, like he had seen her doing to Will the rare few times he allowed himself to be comforted.
Touched him.
The electrical thrill it sent through his whole body made him jerk back and exhale shakily, just as Angerona abruptly lurched toward him. It didn't hurt. He had expected it to hurt, but it didn't. In fact, he could feel Will just there, faint but present, his curiosity, his fascination, his want, and it took all Hannibal had not to reach out and grab Tisiphone again.
Irrationally, he wanted to kill her and eat her, if only to preserve that bit of Will inside him.
Will smiled, sharply, like he knew exactly what he was thinking. The hand he was holding the knife in was entirely too close to Angerona's long, dark form. "So, what's for lunch?"
Daemons:
Will Graham – Tisiphone, meaning "avenging murder"; slender mongoose
Hannibal Lecter – Angerona, meaning unknown, Roman goddess of winter solstice, death and silence; king cobra
Jack Crawford – Adilet, meaning "justice"; Great Dane
Bedelia Du Maurier – Tushar, meaning "cold, frost, snow"; North American river otter
Alana Bloom – Elisedd, meaning "kind"; blue jay
Abigail Hobbs – Erastus, meaning "beloved"; long-tailed shrike
Beverly Katz – Wafi, meaning "trustworthy, reliable, loyal, perfect"; ring-tailed lemur
A/N: This idea came to me after I binge-watched Hannibal and then read somewhere that king cobras are one of the very few animals that are mostly cannibalistic. If Wikipedia is to be believed (which is a dubious statement in and of itself) their diet mostly consists of other snakes, and sometimes of other cobras. And a mongoose, of course, will kill a snake if he feels threatened. I just couldn't resist.
