Will hovered at the peripheral of Hannibal's vision for the remainder of the evening, much as it had felt as though he had done his entire life. Though unsentimental about such things, Hannibal had always believed his equal and opposite existed somewhere in the Universe. He had just never considered the inevitability of that counterpart appearing so unexpectedly and with such unabated force, and the subsequent magnitude effect it would have on his life. The shape of a being, blurred and incoherent, had accompanied him on his journey and for a long time he had believed the shadow to be Mischa, a perpetual reminder of what he had lost and been searching for ever since. He was soon corrected of that belief on meeting Will Graham that fateful day in Jack Crawford's office, when the shadow stepped into full and glorious view. That moment rekindled when he laid eyes on him again, now, eight months after he had left him to his fate. Hannibal's expression kept calm and stoic as he extended a slender hand to take Will's own in greeting. At that first touch, the predator within roused, stalking his mind for the possibilities that would trap this beautiful prey between the steel traps of his mind once again.
Such thoughts swarmed that niche in his mind while listening with rapt pretence to some inane discussion in which he was half-heartedly participating, not that his guests would notice, so wrapped were they in the sound of their own voices. While comfortable and in control in this kingdom of bounty he had established for himself, he felt his skin prickle as he brought his mind back to the present moment, thoughts of Will Graham making him suddenly more aware of the aura of the man nearby emanating towards him.
Hannibal looked up. Will was gazing at him, but it was not with the look of prey skittish and concerned of a pending attack. His expression truly reflected that of Hannibal. Predator. Hannibal was momentarily taken aback. The reality dawned. Frankenstein's monster, that which he had created in his own image, no longer needed his father. He had become him. Identical but different. Truly. The uneasy feeling was quickly shunned and replaced in favour of something much more fitting a man of his standing as he returned the look. The times ahead would be nothing if not very interesting indeed.
They had exchanged little more than cool glances all evening, and one especially rousing one, where Hannibal watched Will as he selected a canapé from a passing tray. He raised his eyelids as he conveyed a small nod of knowing towards the host, slipping the meat between his lips and closing his eyes as he swallowed. He knew. Hannibal knew. For a moment, he was back in his study, but their roles reversed as he found himself being scrutinised by Will with breathtaking intensity, before Will turned his attention back to his companion, Judith Clarfore, barely missing a beat.
"Did I not know you well enough, Henrik, I would be envious of the one for whom those fires of affection blaze in your eyes. Is he as tempting the sight as you remember?" Bedelia asked, as she raised her wine glass to her lips.
Hannibal broke his gaze at Will to look at her. "You are my sister, Lyra, you have no need to worry about where my affections lie," Hannibal replied quietly in her ear, leaning back to push the dark brown strands from her face as he spoke.
She lowered her eyes demurely before casting a glance in Will's direction and moving away to mingle with their guests. It would be a long evening. Hannibal would be sure to make the most of it. A new room in his memory palace was perhaps in order.
As the evening wound down and the guests were slowly thinning out, Hannibal and Bedelia took up position by the entrance to bid farewell to the rest of the straggling guests. Hannibal was taking note of who was who within this section of the slow moving herd. For future reference.
"Oh Henrik. And Lyra of course." Judith Clarfore swayed their direction. "What an absolutely charming evening. It may be only the second time you've hosted but I know they will simply get better with every experience."
"One aims to do what one can to cull the monotony of life by bringing together those who have cause to escape it and seek solace in the company of those who know it as keenly as they…" Hannibal said, taking her hand and gently pressing his lips to her knuckles.
"Quite so," she nodded hesitantly, unsure of the remark. She turned to signal her companion who was bidding goodnight to a guest.
Will approached her side smoothly and calmly, a new grace to his movement that Hannibal couldn't help but admire.
"I am only sorry that you and James didn't have the opportunity to become better acquainted."
"An oversight I would be more than happy to rectify, Judith, should you and James wish to join my sister and I for dinner in a more… intimate setting? Next week perhaps?," Hannibal asked, looking at Will with a gentle smile that almost reached his eyes.
Bedelia was eyeing the exchange from his side with mild interest.
"Nothing would give me more pleasure, Henrik!" she blustered. She turned to Will. "James? I hope you will say yes?"
James smiled and nodded. "Of course, Judith. I've heard so many interesting murmurs about our host this evening, I would certainly welcome the opportunity to extract the wheat from the chaff over dinner with the subject matter himself."
He continued, turning his gaze on Hannibal. "And if tonight's culinary offerings attest to anything, I would be denying myself the pleasure of knowing what further delights Mr Rufus can yield from the tip of a carving knife."
Hannibal smiled in return. "I am no stranger to cooking for new acquaintances who rapidly become old friends. It's settled then. I shall call you in a few days to arrange, Judith."
Will's composure throughout the exchange had been nothing short of flawless. They exited the door and Hannibal and Bedelia watched as they climbed into the limousine.
"Mind how you go!" called Hannibal.
The parting comment had not been lost on Will. The times ahead would be nothing if not very interesting indeed.