So, this chapter is rather long and I debated cutting it but hey, at least you get to have all the answers at once. And I didn't want to leave you waiting after the last cliffhanger hehe.
One instant, she was about to grasp Hannibal's hand, and the other she stood on a ship, watching earth from above. Clouds swirled around it, like a cocoon of blankets for a planet that never slept entirely. The view was amazing, reminding her of the few times she'd been lost in space with her team; it never got old.
— "Greetings, Frances."
The young woman whirled around to find the culprit of her abduction; she would recognise this metallic anywhere.
— "Thor, is that you?"
The little grey creature blinked, its huge unnatural eyes entirely black.
— "It is I"
His voice echoed around the rounded walls of the spaceship and Frances almost sagged in relief, taking a step towards the creature.
— "Thank God, I'm so glad to see you."
As usual, the alien didn't lose time in pleasantries; protocol was way above the Asgard race. Language and manners were too foreign a concept.
— "So am I. We have discovered that you were experimented upon by Loki and misplaced in this reality. Do you want to contact Colonel O'Neill?"
Frances' mouth opened, and closed a few times. Until she frowned, trying to grasp all the implications of such a thing. In the back of her mind, her worry for Hannibal made her thoughts difficult to organise; he must be having a fit down there. Eventually, her mind started functioning again.
— "Is there a Colonel O'Neill in this reality?"
Thor didn't move an inch, watching her intently.
— "No. He retired. As you have seen, this reality is much different from your own."
The young woman snorted then, aware that her nervousness was about to make her hysteric.
— "Yes. Middle earth is a book here! How crazy is that?"
The little alien that was the mighty Thor was unmoved by her outburst.
— "The Valar wanted their world to be known to prevent mistakes on earth. In your home reality, we were the ones to convey such messages"
Frances' eyebrows lifted high upon her head… What? Anyhow, the urgency told her to set this matter aside and decide. Warning SG1 would mean airing her secret, she couldn't afford to put the other Frances through that.
— "O'Neill has no idea about … my travels," she stated.
— "No. And the SGC should not need to until the Keeper of Time is revealed to them."
The young woman froze for a second; she recognised a prediction when she saw one. Thor's metallic voice rang again, cornering her without even knowing what he was doing.
— "On behalf of the Asgard race, I come to apologise, and ask you whether you would like to be replaced in your original dimension."
A baseball bat connecting with her head might have been less striking. There it was, the choice, laid at her feet. And through the thousand implications of what that decision might entail, only one shone bright in her mind. The fact that, in her dimension, Tristan was dead after she had chosen to save Lancelot. But here, Hannibal was very much alive, and her husband. What if that vision came to pass? What if she could prevent it?
— "I need you to clear something for me. I just saw my friends falling from this very cliff. Dying. A vision of the future?"
Thor stood, unblinking. Given he was four feet tall, she wondered how he could gather such presence. Yet, her had always been much more imposing than his counterparts of the Asgard Council.
— "It is but an alternate future," rang his warning. "My coming perturbed the structure of this reality, and you have caught a glimpse of it."
His metallic voice was disincarnated, yet she could detect the faintest trace of sympathy. Frances breathed in relief at this revelation.
— "So it won't happen"
The Asgard nodded.
— "No. Your presence has changed the course of events, but you can still choose to return to your reality."
Frances bit her lip; she couldn't believe she was going to say that… Turning to the beauty of earth, the planet gently floating below her very feet, the young woman whispered.
— "I have attached myself here, commander. I have a new life"
The notion caused hope to swell in her chest and she stole a glance to the alien. Thor blinked, his large black eyes fixed upon her.
— "Do you mean that you wish to remain?"
Frances gave the alien a lopsided smile. She had forgotten how Asgards didn't work well with innuendos and nonverbal communication. Akin to their Viking counterparts, they liked things to be verbally expressed without any chance for misunderstanding. It probably came from the telepathy they used among themselves. After all, when you shared thoughts, you couldn't get wrong on the intention.
— "Would you allow him to come aboard? The man I tied my life to?"
The alien blinked again.
— "Why?"
She didn't expect him to comprehend her reasons; Asgard didn't have mates since they cloned themselves. But Thor should know better, for he had witnessed how attached the members of SG1 were with each other.
— "First because he must be worried sick. He is my … mate, and I disappeared right in front of him. And secondly because I wish to offer Hannibal this view once in his life, he that craves beauty above anything."
The little creature fondled with the commands of his board, then stated flatly.
— "There are two life signs down there travelling at high speed through the area. Their heart rate is high, showing signs of distress"
Blood drained from Frances' face as she understood the state of panic they must be in.
— "Take them both," she told the commander.
The little grey man stared at her, his huge black eyes boring holes into her. Assessing.
— "It is highly unusual."
His manner of speech, so ancient, should have made her laugh had her heart not increased in pace at the thought of her husband and friend searching the beach house in a frenzy. Breathless, she pleaded to the alien.
— "Please, they must be very worried about me. They already know you exist. I swear they won't tell a soul."
For a moment that bordered on eternity, Thor's dark orbs rested upon her, then back to the control panel. Decrypting the symptoms of stress of her human body, he decided to abide by her wishes. The Keeper of Time, after all, had yet to disappoint the Asgardian race.
— "Very well"
Frances nearly deflated on the spot as a huge ray of white light blinded her, the familial woosh of Asgard teleportation technology activating. Barely a second later, Will appeared on the bridge, a very drenched psychiatrist by his side. Hannibal's hair was askew, strands falling upon his chiselled cheekbones, droplets sticking to his skin. His eyes, almost wild, found hers immediately and his gaze softened as he took in her unharmed state.
Relief barely concealed, Hannibal strode forward and embraced her with a sigh. His long arms, frozen and wet, wound themselves around her body like a set of straps, pulling her against his soaked chest.
— "I feared I had lost you," he murmured into her ear.
His hands encased either side of her face as he kissed her lips gently, tasting her to ensure that she was indeed real. Her chest swelled at this unexpected show of emotions; she always feared that he would discard her, someday, when the bloodlust and need to probe the human mind became stronger than his affection for her. Evidently, it seemed that she had wound her way deeper than she thought in the psychiatrist's life.
Frances addressed Hannibal a fond smile, trying to appease his fears as well as her racing heart. As a careful mask struggled to replace his expressive features, a muffled exclamation called them both to Will.
— "Wow"
Wide blue eyes tried to make sense of the setting, flying from the window to the little grey alien standing at the commands. Hannibal lifted his eyes from his wife only to fall upon the incredible view over earth, gently revolving a few thousand kilometres below their feet. Freezing in place, the psychiatrist was struck speechless by the display of their beloved planet, clouds swirling upon its blue depths. He'd only ever seen those images in magazines, and even the best quality glazed paper illustrations didn't hold a candle to what he was seeing. That image would be forever carved in his memory palace.
Frances' gaze took in his awed features, contemplating, for the first time, Hannibal's unguarded face as he drank the most beautiful sight he'd ever laid eyes upon. The golden hues of his eyes complimented his slightly tanned skin, his cheekbones enhanced by the silvery light of the ship. His face unravelled like a work of art… So entranced by the sight that he seemed to have forgotten that they were not alone on board. Always aware of his surroundings, like a predator. It was mighty feat indeed for Hannibal to surrender to beauty so completely.
— "Greetings. Welcome on board the O'Neill," came Thor's characteristic metallic voice.
Hannibal started, body coiled in a defensive position while Frances' scoffed.
— "The O'Neill, wow! Jack must be proud"
— "Colonel O'Neill has not been informed yet."
A wide smile split her face when Will stuttered something about hallucinations. Turning to the empath, she gestured to each of them.
— "Will, Hannibal, this is supreme commander Thor of the Asgard fleet."
The alien nodded to them formally, and Hannibal felt compelled to return his bow although he towered over him by two feet at least. Very formal indeed. The psychiatrist's mind still had trouble wrapping around the fact that he stood above earth in some kind of spaceship, facing an alien. Hence his silence. Hannibal much preferred to observe rather than give away his ignorance.
Frances' surprised tone, though, sent his mind in more turmoil.
— "Wait, wait. How do you know me? I don't exist here."
The psychiatrist studied the little grey alien, taking in his diminutive size and huge dark eyes that could have featured in a nightmare. Although no irises showed, it seemed like the creature's gaze could penetrate his inner walls easily, take him apart the same way he did with his victim's bodies and his patients' mind. If not for Frances' lack of fear and familiarity, Hannibal would have felt very vulnerable in front of such a creature. The alien looked frail enough, physically. But there was unknown power here, something unattainable.
— "We are multi-dimensional beings. Only one instance of us exists in the multiverse."
Frances nodded.
— "That makes sense…"
Will suddenly bent to Hannibal, catching his attention with a befuddled look.
— "Does it?"
Hannibal's lips quirked up. Multidimensional universe and spaceship travel were not his cup of tea, but he had no doubt Frances would explain. His superior brain could take anything provided he knew the basics, how hard could quantum physics be? He would store the information, and make heads or tails of it later. And so he listened, his arm still wrapped around the young woman even if he knew his drenched shirt probably leaked through. If the alien chose to beam him down, he'd take her along this time. His whole body was falling prey to the coldness of his soaked skin, adrenalin settling at normal levels in his veins. A shiver was hardly repressed before it communicated to Frances; no distractions when on an alien ship.
— "Does it mean you protect this earth as well?" she asked the little grey alien.
The creature barely moved, long translucid fingers hovering upon the command panel.
— "There are no Goa'uld here, hence no treaty."
Understanding dawned upon Frances. This earth didn't need the Asgard around because it wasn't threatened by the system lords – the Goa'uld – of her reality. It was no wonder the Valar had decided to look after earth to replace Thor's guidance. But it also meant…
— "No Stargate."
Will's state of agitation only grew the further the conversation went, and Hannibal reached for him with a steadying hand.
— "Am I crazy?" he whispered.
And Hannibal shook his head, seeking to reassure the young man that he was not hallucinating. How far he had come, the psychiatrist mused, from trying to push Will Graham over the edge and embrace his inner darkness to reassuring him like a child. All for the sake of being accepted, being seen by another human being. And despite the fact that he knew something dark still loomed inside Will's mind, he had found another special someone. His doppelganger, the fiery lady.
And for his wife, the psychiatrist was willing to take care of Will's mental health. Curiously, his paternal instinct chose this moment to express itself.
— "I come to offer Frances' retrieval," the metallic voice echoed under the vaulted roof.
Hannibal's blood froze, his eyes darkening as his fingers tightened upon her wrist. Unblinking dark pools roamed over his body, prodding him like an experiment before turning to Will who was close to hyperventilate.
— "Retrieval?" the young man stuttered.
Frances shifted uncomfortably, stepping forward to make eye contact with the empath.
— "He means that I could get back to my own reality," she clarified.
Will blanched and Frances addressed him a smile that bordered on a grimace. She, as well, had trouble processing the information. Going home when there was another Frances already there? Before any of them could actually voice their concerns, Hannibal spoke, his smooth accented voice delivering a bombshell on her doorstep.
— "I will come with her."
Silence settled, Frances' jaw going slack as she whirled around to face him, wide chocolate eyes set upon his face. Hannibal's lips quirked imperceptibly as thoughts ran a hundred miles an hour in her mind.
Her husband was too intelligent to ignore that he would leave everything behind. His legacy, his money, his status. China plates, clothes, houses, diplomas, existence … everything. All of them neatly stored away in his memory palace. But then again, it would offer him a blank status to start over, without anyone hunting the Chesapeake Ripper or Il Mostro di Firenze. After all, he had contingency plans to escape to Italy with just a suitcase.
The only real issue…
— "But the Keeper of Time is still there. My world doesn't need me anymore."
What could have been a heartbreaking moment was shattered by the Asgard's even tone.
— "Yes. The prime Frances still wears the mantle. She will be solicited soon."
If the prediction didn't faze the young woman – Asgards had a way with space and time – Will and Hannibal shared a curious look before the empath gripped his head.
— "Wait, if Frances was to return to her reality, wouldn't that cause a … reality crash or something?"
The young woman gave Will a sad smile.
— "Entropic cascade failure, Will. And no"
Barbaric words, for a different reality. Hannibal shifted then, realising how much of Frances' life he had not cared to discover. There were so many questions to ask… For now, he was trying to store the sheer amount of information that Thor was carelessly throwing their way as if it was as simple as counting from one to ten.
— "Entropic cascade failure happens when two instances of the same person exist in the same reality. Frances being a clone had been duplicated, and so was her mind at one point in time. They now evolve independently from each other."
Three clones. The keeper of Time, his wife and … one in middle earth. Frances, wide eyes told him she shared his reasoning; the psychiatrist's heart constricted when the next question stumbled from her lips.
— "Thor. Do you … do you know if the first clone found him? Did she find him before he sailed?"
The grey alien blinked, his great eyes fixed upon Frances by his side. Hannibal has to refrain a shudder – coldness, surely, for it couldn't be fear – when his metallic voice echoed against the curved walls of the Asgard ship.
— "Yes, Princess Melenwë has successfully bonded with the Prince of Greenwood the Great."
Frances echoed Hannibal's thoughts.
— "Princess Melenwë?"
— "Your cloned self chose to adopt a new name upon her arrival on Arda," the alien explained.
A smile quirked Frances' rosy lips, her eyes lost in the contemplation of earth as she whispered incredulously.
— "Beloved"
— "Yes, my beautiful?"
The young woman blinked, her eyes focusing on the psychiatrist by her side.
— "This is what 'Melenwë' means: beloved daughter of the Valar."
Hannibal's eyes twinkled slightly, conveying that she, as well, was beloved in their midst. Beside them, Will shook his wild curls.
— "So you really speak elvish…"
Frances smirked then; she knew what Will meant. That she spoke elvish yes, but also that her clone story was true, and that there was another her somewhere in middle earth, among people that had been written by Tolkien. That elves, dwarves, the Valar and Sauron existed. And in truth, Will would have been a cute hobbit; his hairstyle resembled so much Frodo's at times. Oblivious to the quantity of things left unsaid, Thor addressed Frances with his even voice. Yet, Hannibal was pretty sure that reverence shone in his dark eyes.
— "It is fitting. The Valar themselves chose this name for her."
A friendly hand came to rest upon her wrist, and Frances turned to Will, his clear blue eyes fixed upon her face.
— "There are people who love you here as well. We are not Gods, but we can be your family."
And for once, Will didn't shy away from the contact. Frances' stomach plummeted at his words, taking in the ugly truth. If she got back, she wouldn't be able to reach for her parents, nor her friends for no one knew she had been cloned. Home, without being home? A bleak perspective indeed. So it was without further hesitation that she turned to Thor, her features resolved.
— "I will remain in this reality."
The creature inclined its huge head once, betraying no emotion.
— "You are no longer the Keeper of Time, but you are a protector still. You have a purpose. Do not forget it."
The alien's words, a few truths uttered with neither kindness not reprimand, struck home. For ever since she had awoken in this strange reality, the young woman knew she wouldn't last long. Such was the balance of the universe; she wasn't born here, wasn't meant to walk the surface of this particular earth. A stray soul misplaced. Yet, she had a part to play before the end, and should therefore push away her willingness to die to replace it with a sense of purpose. Frances nodded her thanks, feeling the weight of Hannibal's long fingers encasing her own. Colder than usual. He was her timestamp. As long as she could keep him in check, life would go on for both of them. By making him her husband, she had become the protector.
— "Thank you, Supreme Commander, for taking that precious time to find me."
The creature bowed his head in a move so reminiscent of Teal'c that tears tickled her eyes.
— "It has taken longer than planned due do difficult circumstances."
A tremor ran up her spine, her stiffening noticed by the tall man by her side who sent her a speculative look. There was a strange sense of relief to know that she was leaving all this behind. Goa'uld and threats from the stars. Still, she had to ask.
— "Replicators?"
Thor's tiny nod was her response.
— "Amongst many things, yes. We are at war. But Loki's actions brought you here, and we owed it to you to offer the choice."
Such was the high sense of honour of the Asgard race. Beside her, Will seemed totally oblivious to the conversation as he wandered, eyes wide, around the vessel. Soaking information, probably. Hannibal's keen eyes navigated between the empath, his wife and the grey creature, fascinated by the alien whose psyche seemed so radically different from human's.
— "I wish you good luck in this war, and I have no doubt that the SGC will help."
— "I am on my way to ask for Samantha Carter."
Frances deflated, realising that she would never guard her friends' back. Hoping that the Keeper of Time would do it in her stead.
— "Will you watch over them for me?"
— "I always have, and will do again, Lady Frances. You know I keep O'Neill out of trouble."
A genuine smile brightened her face, sending Hannibal into countless rounds of thinking. She didn't talk much about those friends, for they were dead to her now. Maybe he could help her revisit those memories to alleviate the pain; she seemed genuinely worried about them.
Frances took a few steps forward, approaching the alien who watched her steadily. The psychiatrist stiffened, biting his tongue to refrain from following; his tall frame would, without any doubt, be interpreted as a threat. Her amount of trust threw his mind in turmoil as she knelt, like a knight before a liege, but head held high. Not two feet away, Thor, Supreme commander of the Asgard fleet, faced the young woman solemnly. Eye to eye. Just a touch away, and the alien could … anything.
Hannibal's blood started to boil; he knew, right now, that Frances was vulnerable and yet showed no fear. The amount of things that could happen put his imagination to shame. Therefore, the former surgeon called onto his legendary phlegm and settled on watching while his insides simmered with animalistic fear. She was his mate now. His to protect. "Mine!"
Will, on the other hand, had more trouble controlling himself. The psychiatrist reached for him before he could intervene, feeling the young man shaking nervously beside him. For an empath, meeting an alien species was probably akin to taking LSD. Frances smiled at the alien, bowing her head slightly in a sign of deference, hoping to convey her gratitude.
— "Goodbye, Thor. I will miss you."
Hannibal couldn't help the smile that bloomed on his face as the creature blinked at her familiarity, his translucid fingers lifting to reproduce a salute. Even if the alien couldn't smile, there was a fondness in his tone as he bid her adieu with as much class as a King.
— "Goodbye, Lady Frances, former Keeper of Time, and protector of this world"
The redhead nodded, then stood, turning to them with shining eyes. This renouncement sealed her fate, attaching it to him more permanently than the ring on her finger. And Hannibal was grateful. Behind them, earth continued its never-ending spin, light and dark struggling to prevail upon its beautiful surface. As Frances offered both of her hands, one for him, and one to Will, she angled her head backwards to address the alien.
— "Can you give us a minute, Thor? I want to carve this image in my mind."
— "I will give you three earth minutes before I beam you down to the surface."
— "Thank you, Supreme Commander."
The little grey alien disappeared in a flash of bright light without warning, leaving the three of them on the bridge. As one, they turned to earth, Frances standing between them. With a great sigh, she nestled against Hannibal's side, unwilling to meet his gaze as tears overflowed her eyes and ran down her cheeks. And despite the fact that he knew how difficult this decision had been, the psychiatrist left her be, allowing her to grieve in the privacy of her thoughts. His long – and soaked – arm slid over her shoulder to hold her close; she would never realise the extend of his gratitude for her choice. Her other hand was squeezed by Will, and for once, he had not a care in the world.
Below them, earth displayed its mighty colours, the eastern coast already plunged in darkness while California got gradually drowned by the receding light. There was so much to see, and so little time. The way the light diffused at the poles, keeping the northern one in eternal night while Antarctica battled its latest storm. The gradual change of colours in the Oceans, and blotches of light that delimited the grandest cities of the continent.
But most of all, the most extraordinary feat was that they shared this beauty. Like a family. The reunion of souls ripped apart fifteen hundred years ago, reunited in a blissful moment of contemplation. And this, Hannibal knew that they would never forget.
The flash of blue light brought them down into the living room, away from the rain that had soaked Hannibal from head to toe. For a while, the two men stood staring at Frances, speechless, until she set her hand on her husband's soaked shirt.
— "Go and have a hot shower, mon amour. I'll take care of the house."
The psychiatrist nodded, his mind still reeling from the numerous implications of what just transpired. An alien, a woman from another dimension, and her refusal to leave… As Hannibal climbed the stairs, Frances set to lock the front door and close the electric blinds, moving around like a busy bee to set things right before the night.
— "So this was true…", Will eventually called from the bottom of the stairs.
— "Did you doubt me?" she quipped back.
Frances wasn't put out by his admission. Since Will had memories of his past life, he had integrated the fact. But aliens, Stargates, alternate realities and clones was a foreign concept, and seeing it up close could only rattle him. Still, the empath sent her a sheepish smile.
— "Well … the clone part was the most difficult to believe I admit."
— "I get it. If I had not travelled through the Stargate myself, and would have had a hard time believing it. And I've seen some weirds things in Interpol, believe me"
Will shook his dark curls and France mused that she really should talk to him about a haircut. Well, Alana would eventually take care of it. As the last blind closed, Frances turned tail and headed for the stairs. Hannibal's drawing lay there, discarded on site, and she picked it up to hold it close to her heart. Will didn't ask to see it, his mind still running from the encounter with supreme commander Thor. Then he snorted, and Frances sent him an inquisitive look.
— "I'll fall asleep thinking about what Freddie Lounds will never know. She would have had a field day with this."
— "What about Alana?"
Will pursed his lips and disappeared in the shadows, leaving a bewildered Frances behind. How sad it was that a great part of his life couldn't be shared to his beloved? Perhaps they ought to do something about it, but how could they prove Alana that they weren't all nut cases? And what part should they share? Would it abate the woman's fears, or feed them? Given Hannibal's first reaction to this mess … phew. Perhaps Alana would accept her mentor's word easier than hers and Will?
Frances climbed the stairs silently, popping into the master bedroom and closing the door behind her. Then she took a peek at the unfinished drawing, admiring the precision of Hannibal's pencil. There was love and admiration in those lines; she looked so peaceful, sleeping in the tangle of sheets. Even angry with her, he managed to capture her likeness so gently. An artist at heart.
Hannibal exited the bathroom, stark naked, wiping his face with the towel. Frances' eyes lit up, her brain freezing – yelling "mate! é" – as she took him his magnificent body. For a fifty-year-old man, he was so incredibly handsome. The psychiatrist eventually dropped the towel aside, his lips quirking at the dazed look on his wife's face. Then he saw the drawing in her hands.
— "I guess it is the first time you see yourself sleeping," he stated.
And for a man who stood naked, exposed to her scrutiny, he certainly seemed rather serious. Frances smiled, contemplating the picture with fondness.
— "My hair never looks so tame in the morning."
The psychiatrist approached, stopping right behind her to look over her shoulder. And if his eyes roamed the dark lines, the intensity of his presence seeped through Frances' frame. She had to bit her lip to prevent from lying back.
— "Yes, it does, that day in particular."
The young woman shuddered, realising how cold she was compared to him. Hannibal snaked a warm hand around her waist, his long fingers splaying on her lower belly as his nose buried in her hair.
— "Is it a picture of your memory palace?" she asked, breathless.
A kiss landed upon her temple.
— "Yes. Although, I admit, I have taken a little artistic licence."
Frances chuckled then, and, setting aside the drawing on the desk, turned around to circle Hannibal's form with her arms. His arms surrounded her, pulling her against his broad chest. She sighed. There, stuck against his still damp skin, basking in his warmth, she was exactly where she wanted to be. The choice to stay didn't seem so terrible now.
— "Thank you, my beautiful," Hannibal whispered in her ear.
The young woman pulled away, giving her husband an interrogative look.
— "For choosing to stay."
A shadow passed in her gaze, and Hannibal tucked a loose strand behind her ear.
— "It was the only rational choice. And I thank you for considering coming with me."
He nodded.
— "There would have been nothing left for you there."
— "Nothing for you as well," she retorted.
Hannibal watched her intently.
— "I know. Except for us. Together, we can do anything my beautiful."
Frances nodded, dragging Hannibal into bed.
— "Honestly, I am glad to live in a world where the Goa'ulds are not plotting to overtake earth at every turn. Or where replicators are not an item."
The psychiatrist lifted an eyebrow.
— "What are those? The supreme commander seemed rather upset about it."
— "Spider machines that absorb Asgard technology. They destroy planets. Too many legs. Bad."
Hannibal hummed, his long fingers grabbing her t-shirt to pull it over her head. And despite the wonderful feeling that his hands left behind, Frances' throat closed as she took in the consequences of her choice.
— "So you see. It was a selfish decision after all."
Hannibal watched her intently, choosing to remain silent for a moment as he unclasped her bra, and pulled the skirt away from her body. Then he gathered Frances in his arms, and covered them both with sheet and comforter.
— "You don't have the potential for selfishness, Frances," he eventually said.
The young woman hummed in disagreement.
— "We all have"
Hannibal caressed her hair thoughtfully.
— "Yes, my beautiful, but you don't listen to the urges. This is why they choose you, those Valar of yours. Even when your heart was at stake on the battlefield you choose to save Lancelot."
Frances' heart constricted at the painful memory of seeing Tristan hacked to pieces by the Saxon leader. Her hold tightened and she buried her nose into Hannibal's chest as he went on.
— "You chose to not to let someone be killed. Let alone kill someone"
The young woman lifted her head, searching for her husband's intense gaze.
— "I killed for you."
The ghost of a smile passed over his lips; the memory embedded deep in his palace. The sight of Frances going for the kill blow, her wrath unleashed, her figure as terrible as the goddess of war herself.
— "To defend. You are a protector, the perfect opposite of me."
There was nothing to add as Hannibal stated the plain truth. That he was a killer, for selfish reasons, and accepted it. And yet, as Frances lay in his arms, feeling safe as she drifted to sleep.
Last time seeing Thor and aliens and stargate stuff, the next chapter will be about something really different. I'm rather proud of this one, since it closes the possibility for Frances to get back home. I hope you enjoyed it.