Hey everyone! Hope ya'll had a great NYCC weekend! I didn't get to see Bryan Fuller but hope that everyone that did have a fun time. I did get to cosplay Will and Hannibal with my friend. You can check out pictures on my tumblr, mysteriouslysexyphilosopher. To celebrate, here's a super duper chapter with extra DRAMA. Enjoy, and as always, let me know what you think of it!

The next morning Will woke with a jolt. He was still in Hannibal's room, but his wine glass had been taken and the balcony doors had been left open. Will rubbed the sleep from his eyes as he searched for the king. He didn't find him on the balcony or anywhere else in his bedroom.

When he heard a knock on the door, he opened it to find Freddie waiting with a pot of tea and a smirk.

"Will," she said, clearly not at all ashamed that she had revealed his heritage.

"Freddie," he grumbled.

"Slept in?" she asked, not waiting to be invited in. She placed down the tea and turned to smile smugly at Will. "I'm surprised you're not at the trial."

Will drowsily poured himself a glass of tea to calm his pounding head.

"Trial?" he asked. Freddie blinked her eyes, feigning shock at his ignorance.

"Of course," she said. "I thought you would have known, seeing as it could have potentially put His Majesty in great risk."

Will nearly smashed the teacup down.

"Whose trial?" he asked. Freddie didn't flinch at his sudden movement.

"Countess Bloom has been accused and found guilty of witchcraft," she said. "When I left they were considering burning her at the stake."

Will didn't even bother dismissing Freddie as he rushed out of the room. It didn't even occur to him that he was still in his dinner party clothes from the night before. He spat a quick apology when he accidentally knocked over the platter that one servant was holding.

His heart was pounding from running and from fear when he reached the court. There was a flood of nobles already leaving the room, several of whom gave Will questionable glances that he didn't even notice. He stumbled through them, trying to make his way into the room or at least catch a glimpse of Alana. Then he stopped when he caught eyes with Jack and saw the sorrow in his eyes. They met each other in the far corner of the room, far from listening ears.

"Is she-" Will couldn't even finish his own sentence. Jack shook his head.

"She was found guilty," he said. It felt like a stab in Will's gut. "But she's repented and the good Archbishop has agreed to reform her."

A small wave of relief washed over Will until the circumstance dawned on him again.

"Can I see her?" he asked. Jack shook his head.

"She's being sent to the monastery immediately," he said. "It's wise. They want to escort her out of the city before the crowds gather."

"Jack, we both know she's innocent," Will pleaded. "This is Hannibal's doing. I-...Jack, I talked to her last night so he decided to get her out of the way. He did it to Beverly and Zeller and Price and now he did it to Alana."

"Will," Jack slowly pulled Will towards the back exit. "Let me take you back to your room. You clearly didn't get much sleep last night and it's clearly affecting you."

Will tore his arm away from Jack.

"You know there's some insidious going on here, Jack," Will said angrily. "Why are you pretending there isn't?"

"I don't know what you're talking about," Jack said, matching Will's tone. Will narrowed his eyes, but then Jack's face softened. "Let me take you back to your room."

"I know where my room is," Will said, and turned away to disappear back into the crowd.

The king was sipping from a teacup when Will returned. His tea had been left untouched, although Freddie was gone. Will close the door with a bang and turned to face Hannibal, who gazed at him unflinchingly and with a bit of excitement.

"You must be more gentle. That is very delicate wood and slamming it may distort the frame," Hannibal said calmly.

"Distort the wood frame?" Will asked, his anger spilling out slowly. "Hannibal. You just condemned my childhood friend to death. If Archbishop Mason Verger-" Will spit, "hadn't stepped in, she'd be burning alive as we speak."

"Childhood friend?" Hannibal asked, his tone suddenly icy. "You never shared the intimacy of your relationship with her."

"It wasn't intimate," Will said, suddenly feeling flustered. "We used to be close until- the point is you know that she is not a witch."

"I had no idea she was a witch until one of her handmaidens approached a royal guard with her evidence," Hannibal said. "You of all people should appreciate the power that evidence has to reveal truth."

"That is not the truth!" Will yelled, gripping his head with his hands. He pushed his hair out of his eyes. "You are manipulating the truth. You are- you are treating me like one of your subjects that you can twist to do your bidding, but I am not your subject!"

Will stood, his chest moving up and down forcefully, and slowly his rage dissipated as he waited for Hannibal's reply. Hannibal was seemingly aware of this and took his time before answering.

"You are not my subject," he said. "You have never been my subject. I consider you my friend."

Hannibal managed to keep a straight face as Will's fury crumbled beneath him. Only a small smile creeped onto his face as Will wiped his hair back and stared at the floor. Hannibal watched him as he sat down across from him, still holding his head in his hands. Eventually, Will looked up.

"Was Randall Tier ever your friend?" he asked. Will carefully read Hannibal's face as he answered, "No. Merely a business acquaintance."

Will couldn't deny that he believed Hannibal but certainly didn't want to let him see that. He licked his lips and matched Hannibal's gaze.

"Perhaps I'm your friend, but how do you know that you're not just merely a business acquaintance to me?" Will asked. "Isolating me won't change that."

"Isolating implies you are completely alone," Hannibal pointed out. "You certainly aren't."

"And thus, neither are you," Will said bitterly. He rose to his door. "If you'll excuse me, I need to change."