MEMORIES
Clarice snuggled against Hannibal, their bodies fully relaxed from the heat of their recent shower. Hannibal pulled his wife against him, enjoying the unusual sensations her still damp hair caused.
An eyebrow lifted as he processed the stray lock that tickled against his rib cage, the curl of hair twisting and rising at it began to dry. The feeling intrigued him, another memory he would treasure in the future. He opened his memory palace and unlocked the door to the room entitled, MY LOVE. Hannibal reverently placed that moment within and secured the room.
Clarice lifted her head slightly, shifting the curl that had been brushing against her husband's side. He found himself disappointed at the loss of it. Many of the smallest things that passed between them during the course of their lives together had proven to be immensely satisfying.
Hannibal Lecter was a man of broad experiences. There had been very little in life that he had not directly observed or studied upon which he had not formed some basis of knowledge. Yet here in his bed holding his wife as a stray lock of her hair whispered along his flesh, she became more a masterpiece in his eyes than any work of art in any museum he had ever stood before.
Hannibal…his intellect so immense, and so unparalleled that he was truly a giant among men, here, now completely naked holding his lover in his arms, he was humbled before her and fully content to be so.
You rival Venus, Clarice.
Clarice centered her ear on his torso just to the right of his sternum. She sought not only hear, but also feel the strong thumping of her husband's heartbeat as it struck against her cheek. She smiled when the beating tapped along her face. Clarice slightly tilted her head and looked around, careful to maintain precious contact with his body.
With rapt attention, Hannibal watched as Clarice carefully surveyed the room, quietly taking in all of the details. He understood her process as in some ways it was similar to his own. Her opinions were based on her ability to gather and assess information. When she had acquired all the information she found pertinent, she would formulate a series of questions and pose each of them to Hannibal.
What do you have in store for me, my Love? You will have questions, no doubt?
"Why did you buy this house back, H?" Clarice asked with genuine curiosity. "It's the building you were captured from. I'd think it might hold some bad memories for you."
Hannibal processed the question and searched his thoughts, attempting to secure a reason other than he liked the architectural style and the layout of the home suited him. He believed she might be searching for an emotional response or attachment. Thus far he had none to offer.
"This home suits me, Clarice. I cannot form a response other than that." He stated without additional thought as he was much more entertained with the figures he continued to trace on her body.
She shifted under his touch. Each movement of his hand sent lightning-like impulses firing along her nervous system. She found herself hoping he was not jet-lagged but refocused her attention on her question.
"So…this house…It suits you? That's it?"
"That and I have always admired the way in which light plays about the home at different times during the day. I had always found it a very pleasant place in which to live. I had hoped one day, it could be again. I was correct in that. This is very pleasant, is it not?"
"You like the way light plays? It's more than that, H. To purchase a home where you would obviously be immediately recognized if you attempted to move in? You might be able to fly under the radar anywhere else because you are adept at blending in and it would be difficult to place you out of context, but not here. Here you would be very much in context. The homes here don't turn over frequently. Many of your old neighbors have remained and would instantly recognize you. It is pleasant but there's more to it isn't there, H?"
Hannibal thought for a moment more.
She's correct. What was it? I wanted the home even though I was aware that I could not take up residence. At least not right away. Why did I want it?
Hannibal's distinctive mind operated on several levels though fully in concert with his senses as he considered how to explain his thoughts to his wife.
He processed the sensation of her body, fully aligned with his as their breathing somehow naturally synchronized from their intimate contact.
Hannibal traced small figures by using the index and middle fingers of his right hand, gliding them gracefully along her flesh twisting and twirling much like the legs of a figure skater turning a figure eight.
As he formed the tiny patterns, he breathed deeply and his chest expanded to gauge her reaction to his touch, his deep inhalations necessary to gather the pheromones and evaluate her interest. All this while organizing the thoughts needed to answer her question.
His mind quickly sorted through hundreds of possibilities, each of which he considered and summarily dismissed. The true answer came to him suddenly as if he had rounded a corner and abruptly discovered his motivations flashing on a neon sign before him.
"I believe Clarice, that it reminded me of a time in my life before my incarceration when I was free and quite content."
Clarice arched her back to encourage his contact, her body burning from his touch.
"You only wanted to be content? Why not happy?"
"The words are synonymous."
"They may be synonyms but in my mind, the connotation is slightly different. Content is satisfied. Happy is another level of contentment. There is an implied joy present in one word that isn't necessarily present in the other word.
Very clever girl!
"I could not find happiness without you in my life and did not believe I would be able to earn your love. If I could not be truly happy, I thought I might find a way to be content again. This seemed as good a place as any."
"That makes more sense than, 'you liked the way the light played', I'll give you that."
Clarice wanted to know everything about Hannibal and he wanted nothing more in life than to please her. For Clarice he would not only unlock every room of his memory palace, he would describe the contents and without reservation fully explain the significance. The pair, totally at home in each other's company, had built a level intimacy that most married couples would envy.
Hannibal preferred the bedroom cold as did Clarice therefore body heat was preferable to an increase in the thermostat setting. As Hannibal moved his hand along his wife's body, the blanket shifted and she shuddered as a slight chill moved through her.
In response, her concerned husband gathered the blankets around her to help trap the heat and allow his flesh to warm hers as he insulated his wife against the crisp November air.
Hannibal could see that Clarice was assembling more information. That meaning there would be more questions to be asked.
"I am curious…what are you thinking, Clarice?" He asked, intensely interested in her reaction to the home.
"About what, H?"
"What do you think about the house? Do you like it?"
"This room…this entire house is very…you…H."
Hannibal paused, attempting to determine exactly what Clarice meant by the statement.
"I am uncertain how to take that comment my Love."
Clarice began to weave her fingertips in and out of the hair on Hannibal's chest. She had never felt safer in the world than she did in his arms. She reached around him and squeezed his body as if the action was her way of giving and receiving love.
He understood her meaning and held her very tightly against him.
Again, it was the sensation that interested him. She had a physical command over him that no one else ever had. Her touch caused a tingling that began in the very center of his being and radiated throughout. Hannibal imagined that she had within her fingertips enough power contained that with a wave of her hand she could move clouds or bend the very tops of trees to her will.
"I was thinking…the home is very traditional and it's very masculine but, I don't know how to describe it…I guess the best word is… intellectual… just like you. It's all books, instruments, antiques, tapestries and artifacts…almost like a castle in Europe or…"
"Lithuania, Clarice. That is the location of my ancestral home on my father's side."
Hannibal's breathing deepened. Clarice noticed.
"And your mother was a noblewoman but not Lithuanian?"
"She was Italian…her family Milanese, from the Visconti and Sforza lines. I enjoyed researching my ancestral lineage at the Biblioteca Capponi, unfortunately, Rinaldo Pazzi interrupted my plans. It was a shame really. That particular space, the palazzo, had soaring ceilings and dimensions that I found quite pleasant. I am grateful…it brought me back to you."
"Tradition is very important to you, isn't it, H?" Clarice spoke softly, knowing the loss of his family was troubling and probably not something on which he wished to dwell.
He traced the figures on her body far slower when he spoke of his past. The tone of his voice lowered and his countenance took on a much less playful appearance. He obviously felt their loss deeply, though he would never put it in that way.
"Tradition is all I have left of my family. Though I may have lost them physically, I have maintained in my memory all of the stories and oral history they took the time to pass to me."
"How…you were so young? I have flashes of conversations with my parents…fragments of stories but not much else. How could you remember such detail?" She thought of the details of his drawings in his cell.
Memory is what I have Agent Starling, instead of a view.
"My memories are visual. I assemble my thoughts in images. I store the images and can call on them at will. Ambient sound… aromas…textures, senses can also trigger my memory."
"How do you store an image?" She asked, tracing aimless patterns on his stomach.
"Anything I wish to remember or have ever wished to remember I place in a special section within my mind much like a room that I designate for that purpose. I have done this for as long as I can remember. The space grows with every new room."
"Your parents died around your eighth birthday?"
"Yes, about that time."
"And yet you remember very specific details about conversations you had with your parents?"
"Though I was quite young I am thankful my parents respected my intellect enough to have shared my history with me. I have good recall therefore most of what I was told has stayed with me. What gaps existed I have been able to fill in through research."
"I think you surround yourself with these things to help you fill in the gaps as well." Clarice noted as she matched his patterns with those of her own.
"Yes…that would be a reasonable assumption. When I consider the items I purchased for this home, it may be that on a subconscious level, I continue to search for possessions that remind me of that time of my life, before the war. You are quite intuitive, Clarice."
Hannibal had not interrupted the pattern as he traced tiny figure eights on the small of her back. The significance of the pattern he continually traced known thus far only to him. He sought her intention.
"You believe the home needs a woman's touch…Yes?"
Clarice sighed, enjoying his touch and wanting him not only to continue but to advance his intention.
"I don't know H…I don't think it needs a woman's touch. You have wonderful taste. It just needs a little…I don't know, I really can't put my finger on it." She reached beneath the sheets to smooth her hand across his abdomen. She continued to absentmindedly trace similar patterns on his stomach.
Hannibal smiled when he recognized she was matching her movements to his.
Do you realize the significance of what I am doing, Clarice?
"You cannot put your finger on it? Could it be that it is not satisfactory to you because there is nothing that reflects your presence in my life. After all, I did purchase the home before you and I were together."
"You are intuitive too, H. That's got to be it. I see you everywhere I look but I really want to see us."
"Clarice you may feel free to add or remove anything you wish. There is nothing here that is of any consequence or has any personal significance to me. The only thing I ask is that the music room not be touched. Aside from that you have Carte Blanche, my Love."
"I wouldn't change anything here anymore than I would change you, H. I'll fix up the spare room for the baby but other than that, this home will remain as it is. You need to have your own place in this world. One where you can be and where nothing will change…I owe you that."
Hannibal gathered her to him and she lifted her face to him. He reached for her throat to find her pulse point, her eyes closed, knowing his lips would follow.
Hannibal searched her lips with his, gently nibbling on her bottom lip, drawing it into his mouth and sucking on it. He then traced his tongue the underside of her upper lip, tracing it along her teeth.
"You are delicious, my Love."
"You're yummy too, H."
Hannibal reached again for her lips, this time beginning to trace the figure eight along her lips very gently with his tongue.
Recognizing the reappearance of this pattern was designed to be noticed, Clarice pulled back from her husband.
"Okay…I'm obviously not getting the little figure eights you are continually drawing all over me. Give it up, H. What's the significance of the number eight?"
"It would be the number eight if the figure were vertical. The figure I have been tracing is similar, though it is horizontal."
"Infinity?" She questioned although she was confident, knowing her answer was the only possibility.
"Yes, it represents to me a perfect symbol of our love. It extends indefinitely and has no limitations. Much like our love, don't you agree, Clarice."
"Yeah, H…I agree."
EMILIA REMEMBERS
Emilia remained within her suite in Buenos Aires when the phone buzzed on the table beside her bed. Unable to reach it, she made a mental note to check it later. The gentleman in her company had chosen to bind her and she was in no position to argue. Not that she would have in any case though she might have asked him to release one hand had she not been gagged as well.
Her mind tumbled through a confusing set of stimuli, the prurient pleasures now interrupted. Her attention shifted as she considered the possibility that one of the guardians she had placed in various locations throughout the globe had indeed spotted Hannibal. Clarice was of no concern to her.
You will be mine again, Hannibal…I am patient…you will beg for me the way I begged for you.
Emilia's thoughts burned as the synapses fired across her grey matter, lightning bolts of electricity surging as the gentleman in her company asserted his will. This searing pain opened the locks and channels in her mind. Memories of Hannibal stormed from the past and overtook her.
This man with her did not move her to tears of joy the way that Hannibal did. No one had…his will far more assertive his sadistic imagination far more creative and ingenious. He could ignore cries of mercy, her ecstasy. Hannibal not only ignored them, he drove her to them. Though he did not allow his own needs to outweigh hers…he had restraint and knew the boundaries of her anatomy.
Not a man like most men… maybe not a man at all…more like the Beast taking the form of a man for his distraction and amusement. Where is the Beast now? Surely not with that woman…you are so much smaller now, Less Than. You had been All. You could be again, but only with me. I will make you see that.
She had understood that he felt no love for her. That fact had not bothered Emilia because she believed he was not capable of that emotion.
Now she had seen him with Clarice and she knew differently she was greatly disturbed. As a witness to his new capacity for love, his capacity for tenderness, a mirror had been held to her vast deficiencies. The grotesque listing of insufficiencies bore into her as if she had been lowered into a vat of acid that etched the full measure of her infinite insecurities onto her soul.
Was I not enough for you? I could have been more. I wanted to be…I will be…much, much more.
Emilia understood that Clarice stirred emotions within Hannibal that she could not. This caused no small measure of pain. She wanted him. Hannibal was merciless and mercy in equal measure. She had been both terrified and reassured in his presence. He was Rage but Hannibal Lecter had tempered that rage measures of both pleasure and pain. The pleasure had been rapturous. The agony…sublime.
INFINITE
Hannibal's answer to the question did not surprise Clarice. Many things about him did, but not the depth of his love. She understood that fully the night in the home on the Chesapeake. The night the cleaver fell. As she did often when that memory breached, she took hold of that hand and kissed the inside of his arm on the part where his scar was most visible.
"I love you so much, H."
"I love you so much more, Clarice."
She never argued that point. He could make that claim whether it was true or not. He had earned that right in blood and she would never deny him it.
"Prove it." Was all the challenge she need put forth.
Hannibal gathered her against his body. She was resting alongside him with her head on his chest, the position in which they most often slept. He gently turned her onto her side and began to kiss her, slipping his hand under her hair which still was rich with the fragrance of almond.
Clarice loved his kiss, so tender and searching. She often wondered how a man capable of such ferocity could also be capable of such tenderness. She believed it must have been that he was loved very much as a child.
His mother must have loved him so much...he must have felt her love so deeply.
When Clarice had a question, she asked it. Her timing was not always the best.
"Do you remember your mother, H? How you felt about her?" She questioned the moment his lips strayed from hers to search the soft flesh of her neck.
He paused.
"Pardon?"
"Your mom? You must have loved her very much. Do you remember how she made you feel…how much she loved you?"
Hannibal lifted her chin. "Clarice, please… while I appreciate your curiosity, at this particular moment in time there are many things I would like to feel not the least among them being your lovely body. Meaning no filial disrespect I absolutely do not wish to recall my feelings for my mother. It is somewhat of a mood killer, if you take my meaning."
Clarice laughed and pulled him on top of her. "Sorry, H…bad timing."
"To say the very least." He moved carefully to the side, angling his body to maximize his contact with hers but careful to minimize the amount of weight he placed on her small frame. He continued where he left off, the tender flesh of her neck.
Hannibal nuzzled beneath the hair, moving it aside with his nose and he teased her flesh with his teeth.
Clarice shifted her body slightly and it stilled him quickly.
"Are you uncomfortable?" He placed his hands protectively over her belly.
She covered his hands with hers. "No, I think the baby kicked. Is it too early? Maybe it's just gas."
He smoothed his thumbs across the swollen flesh of her abdomen. The pregnancy was becoming more obvious every day. "Is it a slight flutter, like the wings of a butterfly?"
She was surprised at the accuracy of his description. She had been unable to explain it herself.
"That's it exactly! What is it?"
Hannibal smiled. He had not and would not tell her that he had already felt the baby kick.
"That would be our child Clarice. The baby will be making his or her presence known now. You will feel many things that are unusual. Does it worry you? Do you want to stop?"
"Not if it won't hurt the baby."
He ran his fingertips up the length of her forearms. "There is no worry of that."
Clarice brushed a kiss gently across his lips. "Don't stop, …I've missed you."
"I have missed you as well, my Love." He reached for her and kissed her, his mouth exploring hers, rolling his head from side to side very slowly as the passion between them slowly building. Hannibal gently pulled her to him. He wanted to feel her breasts against his chest. They remained this way for several minutes, his hands searching her body, his mouth tasting her flesh.
Growing impatient, Hannibal wrapped his arms around his wife and rolled onto his back and pulled her on top of him. Early in their relationship this position had been troubling for Clarice but no longer. She had struggled with the eye contact, his gaze so powerfully expressive she found it disconcerting. Now, she sought his crimson eyes and wanted nothing more to look at him. His intensity initially discomforting, now aside from his arms around her, it was the thing in the world that brought her the most comfort.
Clarice's heart rate began to build as her husband moved his strong hands up and down her quadriceps, massaging the length of her legs. She was centered on his body though he made no move to enter her. He continued to increase the pressure of his fingers digging deeply into the muscles driving the tension from them. Her voice was soft and airy as he attempted to relax her tired muscles. "Oh…God, H…that's wonderful."
He did not respond. That was not unusual. Often, when he concentrated, though he could hear every word, he would ignore stimuli he deemed extraneous. He moved his attention from her legs and grasped her waist, allowing his hands to reach over her hips and back to her bottom. He squeezed the muscles and pulled her closer.
Clarice rolled her hips forward. Hannibal's eyes closed.
Too much stimuli…slow down.
Hannibal stopped her movement by reaching up, running his fingers along her back to her shoulders and pulling her lower.
"You don't want me moving, H?" She teased as she gently rocked against him eliciting a low groan from her husband.
"I don't mind, Clarice but I would think you might want to avoid it for a moment or my enjoyment will end early and yours will not begin."
Clarice laughed and doubled over, her palms flat on her husband's chest, her breasts brushing against his face. Hannibal craned his neck and captured her flesh, teasing with his small white teeth.
"Oww, take it easy…I'm thinking of breast feeding. The baby will need that nipple!"
"I'm thinking of breast feeding as well, Clarice and I don't want to keep the nipple…I just want to borrow it for a while." He teased as her reached for her again.
Hannibal pressed his palms upward against his wife's hips, lifting her slightly. He shifted himself until he was centered and whispered in her ear, nibbling at the lobe as the words left his lips.
"Whenever you are ready my Love."
She leaned over and kissed him, rolling her hips over his readied body. "I'm always ready for you, H."
As Clarice slowly lowered herself, through pursed lips she drew in a long slow breath and held it.
As he did each time he entered her, Hannibal watched with the rapt attention and humility of a man approaching an altar. He listened carefully and waited patiently exactly the way he did each and every time they made love.
As her body reached his base, Hannibal's quick uptake of breath signaled his satisfaction, his precious wife very quietly emitted the sound that drove him to his passion…the very slightest whisper of breath…the airiest hint of sigh escaped her as Clarice's sensitive muscles relaxed around him and her sublime body welcomed him in.
Ecce deus fortior me qui veniens dominabitur mihi. Behold a god more powerful than I who comes to rule over me.
Slowly, when he was certain she was comfortable and composed, Hannibal began to move.
Clarice claimed her husband as she grasped his body and held him tightly within her own.
Hannibal did not look away, her eyes as open to him and searching as was her heart.
As he moved, eyes locked within hers, his senses took over.
He felt her hair, swinging back and forth across his face, the movement stirring the scent of her shampoo. He tasted her lips, he searched every surface of her body, feeling the changing textures as he moved his mouth from the smooth underside of her breast across the outer curve, and across to the tightly pebbled flesh of each exquisite areola. He latched on to her breast and carefully watched the expression on her face as he escalated the contact. She is smiling.
"My Love…"
Her face reflected a relaxed concentration. "Not now, H…"
Her end is near.
Her body rocked faster as her attentive husband sensed her heightened passion, her impending rapture and matched the rhythm by responding in kind. Their lovemaking had become much more efficient. He learned her body and understood precisely what pleased her. She had done the same. Hannibal's rising pleasure now obvious as he groaned against her flesh, the humming vibrations undulating along the surface of her breast.
She spoke very little. "Mmmm, H…more."
Hannibal searched her flesh, teasing with his teeth all while following her lead. Finally he sensed her breathing quicken. He recognized that he that he could finally relax his control. She would finish soon, he could as well.
"H…oh my god…H…"
He held her tightly as her body trembled with the overwhelming emotion of her physical release.
His release soon followed and as Hannibal shuddered clutching his wife to him, he suddenly caught a scent that was out of place. He quickly released his hold on her breast, his eyes flew open.
Clarice, her rapture fully waned had been watching him. His shift from the afterglow of orgasm to what appeared to be hyper-vigilance terrified her.
"Hannibal…you're scaring me. What's going on?"
Hannibal jumped to his feet and pulled on his pants, quickly zipping them and shoving his feet into his shoes.
"Clarice! Hide! There is someone in the house!"
Until the next chapter, my friends!
LH