Will lay on the edge of sleep, the terrors of his waking nightmares now plaguing his dreams as well. Blood dripped from every surface, his father's men with the split throats and bashed in heads circling his bed like a ritual and he found the only escape to be either to close or open his eyes. At the moment he was closing them tightly and clutching his covers to him in some sort of pathetic shield against the onslaught of his subconscious.
Hushed footsteps outside of his door caught his attention when they passed and didn't stop to tend to the fireplace. No one just walked the halls at night. Will's inability to sleep had made it just that he knew well the comings and goings of the staff and he had also gained the decently accurate ability to tell who was passing by just the sound of their steps. But the ones he heard were not any Will could place.
He opened his eyes and found his room blessedly empty. No guts, no brains, no blood to drown in. He found his robe and this time his slippers to help fight the chill of the stone against his skin, and he slowly cracked open his door wide enough to peer down the hall.
He recognized the figure immediately as Hannibal. He was, after all, the only other child in the castle. Will didn't see other children usually unless there was a party to attend. So, Hannibal it was, dressed in a heavy cloak and carrying a single lit candle in his outstretched hand.
Will's mind raced through all of the reasoning behind what Hannibal could be doing, but the only conclusion he could come up with, based on the thickness of the cloak, was that Hannibal was planning to go outside.
Will closed the door behind him and started down the hall, doing his best to stay quiet, merely wanting to observe, but Hannibal immediately came to a halt and Will could see the sigh leave his shoulders.
"If you're going to come along, do stay quiet," Hannibal whispered, though his voice carried down the hall to Will easily and Will realized that even his most silent of steps would still be heard just as if he were inside of a cave. "I cannot risk any of the adults finding me."
"What are you doing?" Will asked back, making sure to keep his voice as low as he could while he hurried to catch up to Hannibal. "You shouldn't be out."
"Neither should you." Hannibal's eyes glittered in the candlelight as Will came to stand beside him. "A prince needs his rest, after all."
"Stop calling me a prince," Will quipped. "It's getting on my nerves."
"Good." Hannibal inhaled deeply, turning the light of the candle forward. "You'll need to wear something warmer for where I'm going."
"Where are you going?"
Hannibal's head lolled to the side as if the question were the largest inconvenience for him and Will's brows furrowed as he tried not to take offense at the weird gesture.
"I need to get my sister. She is still out there."
Will's hand shot out and took Hannibal's arm when he tried to keep walking. "Not even my father's men could bring her back. The winter is too harsh now. Let her be."
The absolute pain that filled Hannibal's eyes made Will's guts twist in his abdomen and he wanted to retract the statement. "She'll be fine out there."
"I am not leaving my sister out-"
"It's like the larder." Will hoped his explanation made sense. "The larder keeps the meat cold so we can eat it later, right? The snow will help keep your sister-"
"There are no animals in the larder," Hannibal hissed, pulling his arm free from Will's grip and causing the candlelight to dance across the walls. "They're going to hold a funeral for my parents but not my sister because she was forced to that hunting lodge by Sanford's men, and I will not have my parents separated from their only daughter."
"How-how do you know they're going to hold a funeral for your parents?"
"I have ears, William. And I do not speak so I am able to obtain more information."
Will blinked at the way his name sounded coming from Hannibal's lips. It was the first time his name had ever been said by those lips and he rather enjoyed the way it sounded, though he could do without the formality. At least Hannibal didn't refer to him by name and title. He would have lost his mind if Hannibal were to pick up that line of torment.
"Will," he found himself gently correcting.
"What?" Hannibal seemed lost in the sudden change in subject.
"I prefer Will. Just Will."
Hannibal frowned. "I don't care what you prefer as you are currently stopping me from reaching my goal."
"I'm trying to stop you from catching your death out there," Will corrected, the anger not so hot against Hannibal's bites now. "If your sister having a proper funeral with your parents is so important to you that you would risk going back out in that wasteland, then let me see what I can do first."
"What could you possibly do?" Hannibal challenged, not turning to face Will fully, the candle making his cheeks look sharp in the dark.
"I'll ask my parents."
"They won't-"
"And if they won't, then I will inquire upon Bella and Jack. Surely, they will be willing to help." Will's push was soft, but he hoped it was enough to get the boy to calm adequately to the point where Will could return to his bed and fight off more of the dangers of his mind without having to worry about losing track of his ward. "If you come to my studies with me tomorrow, you will see what I mean. Bella will want to help."
"And if they don't?"
Will shrugged. "Then you can go stomping out in the snow without help and see how far you get, and I will not stop you. Though I can't imagine that is how Mischa would want her brother to meet his fate."
"You know nothing about her." Hannibal's words were harsh with ice and Will almost feared that he had stepped too far by using her name.
"I know enough to know that I wouldn't want any sibling of mine, if I were lucky enough to have one, to go out in the middle of the night, during the coldest part of the year, and risk life and limb for my body that is going to be preserved by the cold anyways."
Hannibal's jaw clenched and Will watched as Hannibal looked around the hall, as if searching for another excuse to escape. As if he could find it written somewhere along the walls. He let out an exasperated breath through his nose and finally met Will's gaze. The fight wasn't gone, but Will could see he was making way with subduing it.
"How do you know these people will agree?" Hannibal asked, voice slightly clipped, but more respectful in tone.
"I've been raised by them for nearly the last twelve years. I know who to work to my advantage."
The idea had never been said aloud by Will, but the truth oozed from it. Everyone who worked in the castle he knew extensively. Some staff changed here and there, but for the most part he had known everyone in this castle his whole life. He knew who to ask for sweets, who to ask to go visit the horses, who to go to when he was in trouble and didn't need his parents being involved because the issue was small enough to fix almost on his own. He knew how this castle worked and ran, knew the ins and outs, knew the routines and the regimen.
"You will ask tomorrow then?"
Will nodded. "My parents at breakfast and if they are unwilling, then Bella during my studies."
"And if they will not, you will not stop me from-"
"I will not stop you," Will agreed, causing Hannibal's words to fall still. Hannibal closed his eyes in thought and finally nodded.
"Very well." Hannibal turned back up the hallway and started up it, footsteps no longer quiet as silent as they had been.
"Glad to see you've come to your senses," Will muttered under his breath as he followed Hannibal.
"Why?" Hannibal questioned when Will went to his bedchamber door. Will stopped and turned back to look at the curious expression.
"Why what?"
"Why any of this?" Hannibal motioned around him with a sweeping hand. "Why did you do any of this for me? It would have been easier to leave me out there."
"I would have been in trouble." It was the only answer Will could come up with. It was unsatisfying and self-serving, but he didn't know what else made sense. "It wasn't for you."
Hannibal's expression returned once more to its cold rigidness that was in place whenever they were with other adults and Will suddenly felt shut out of someplace, he didn't realize he had been allowed.
"Why were you out there?" Hannibal finally asked. "What need would a prince have-"
"I was running away."
There was a snort of laughter and Hannibal smiled. "You were doing a rather perplexing job at it."
Will frowned. "I was going to hide in my father's cabin until the storm ended and then keep going. You just so happened to be occupying said area of my father's property."
"You're dense." The words were blunt, and Hannibal didn't show any shame for having said them. "There were so many things wrong with your plan. You weren't dressed properly. You had no supplies. They would have been able to track you in the snow. Does your father have any other cabins on the property or is this the only one?"
"Just that one," Will muttered, the outside perspective on how ignorant his attempts had been, cut him.
"Then where else would you have gone for cover from the storm?" Hannibal pressed on, the grin still on his face. "If that is the only safe location to hide, they would find you. You really know nothing of-"
"I don't want to be my future!"
The outburst only silenced Hannibal for a moment before the other boy stepped closer and leaned over to whisper his next words so softly that Will barely heard him.
"You're not as special as you believe you are."
"What?"
"You're not the first sad little royalty who crumbled before his life had even begun and you won't be the last."
"And you're so much better than me, are you?"
The single nod fanned the flames in Will's blood once more. "I am Counter Hannibal Lecter and since my birth I have been brought up to receive that title and even if it does not hold the same weight as the crown, I am not about to squander the opportunities that have been given to me."
"What possible opportunities could be-"
"Do you like your father, Will?" Will was taken aback by the question, and he blinked as he tried to find the answer. "Do you think that King Sanford Graham is a good king? Do you like your father?"
"No," Will finally got out. "I don't like him, and I think he is a terrible king."
"Then use your place in this life to fix it. Stop complaining about it and trying to run away."
Will stared at Hannibal, the weight of the conversation heavy on his shoulders. He hated the idea of Hannibal being right. If Hannibal felt he could change things under his rule as just a count, then surely as a prince, Will could do something. Not now, but very soon in the future. He had to keep learning, keep building his skills, keep trying to understand anything and everything and he could do something more with his crown. He wasn't sure what yet, but for the first time in his life he wanted to find out.
"When is the funeral going to be held?" Will asked early the next morning over breakfast.
Theophania pushed a dark curl that had fallen out of place behind her ear and cleared her throat, looking over at her son who sat innocently in his chair across from the still ever silent child they had come to foster. She looked to her husband for any sort of guidance on the topic, but as per usual he was busy filling his cup with more alcohol and she sighed deeply, knowing very well that she was going to be the one handling all the details.
"Soon darling. Why?" she asked with a sweet smile, her gaze turning back to Will.
"Is it just going to be for Hannibal's parents?"
Theophania licked her lips and tossed another glance at the sickly-looking boy who was slowly bringing porridge to his mouth. She was worried that with every bite the boy took it wouldn't be enough to bring him back from the edge of starvation where Doctor Chilton had said the boy had been lucky enough to cling to.
"Sanford," she called, her hand reaching out to tap her husband's. "The funeral we have being prepared is only for the Count and Countess, correct?"
"Tiffany," Sanford grumbled with a roll of his eyes. "You know as well as I that I do not have time to dawdle over such details. I have important matters to settle with the-"
"How silly of me," Theophania interrupted with a forced laugh. "Of course. I forgot about the dispute you're being asked to settle." Her attention once more returned to her son and she sighed, her chest tight with her unwanted sense of duty. "Yes, Darling. It is only for the Count and Countess."
"What about Mischa?" Will inquired and Theophania bit her lip.
"What about Mischa?" She tried to place a kind smile on her lips, knowing full well how badly they were failing Hannibal. How they were failing the Count and Countess in just allowing the seasons to claim one of their children. Her heart ached at the idea of her William being lost to the storm, long dead and slowly being forgotten. It was on any mother's long list of nightmares, whether they knew the fear existed or not.
"She's still out there, Mother." Those blue eyes were so intense and Theophania looked away from them. "We can't have a funeral with her still out there."
"The snow is too deep for us to safely-"
"But Mom!"
"Do not argue with your mother!" Sanford's voice boomed and Theophania jumped, eyes closed tightly. "The snow is currently far too deep for us to be able to make it there and back to fetch the girl's body. We can have a funeral for her with her parents in spirit and bury the body later, or we can wait until we are able to bury her to hold the funeral. But I will not have disrespect being shown to your Queen."
He always made things more difficult. If she could hold this conversation with only her son and not with her husband and the other child there, it would have been much simpler. But she rarely saw her son, save for mealtimes. He was whisked away to his studies, and she had her own responsibilities to attend to, said responsibilities also being those that belonged to her husband. But a woman never complained to anyone outside of her handmaidens.
"I'm sorry dear. I promise I will send someone to find Mischa's body the moment the weather allows," Theophania said as kindly as she could. She didn't miss the way the boy across the table grew a bit more rigid, eyes a bit sadder. "I assure you that she is quite safe at the moment."
"And of the animals?"
"William, I will not tell you again," Sanford shot at the boy. "Respect your mother."
"Yes, Sir," Will whispered, turning back to his untouched plate. "May I be excused?"
Will sat alone in his classroom once again, Doctor Chilton having instructed Hannibal to return to bed and by the look of disappointment in Hannibal's eyes, he didn't blame the doctor at all for his orders. Will had wanted to climb back into bed as well, but he had a job to do, and he couldn't give up yet.
"I'm sorry to interrupt," Will cut in and Bella fell silent mid-sentence, looking up from the book she was reading from. "But I have a question to ask you."
"About the text?"
Will shook his head. "A bit more on a personal note."
"Can it wait until after we finish this section?"
"I don't think I can pay attention until I ask this." Will tried to laugh lightly, but Bella did not join in with him. She simply waited for him to proceed with a quiet nod of her head. "I don't know how much you know about Hannibal Lecter."
"Only as much as everyone else," Bella supplied.
"Do you know how I found him?"
"Jack might have mentioned some details." Bella sighed and closed the book, rising from her seat. "If you need to speak to someone about what you saw, I would suggest that you seek out your doctor and-"
"No," Will swiftly cut in, his eyes lowering to the notes he was taking and the dried pen in his hand that was begging to be dunked into the inkwell again. "This isn't about me. This is about Hannibal. They're going to hold a funeral for his parents."
"I am aware."
"But not his sister." Will looked back up, hoping to catch Bella's gaze. Her eyes met his and she nodded, clearly understanding his question, but he continued. "His sister is still out there."
"William-"
"It's not right." Will got to his feet, his chair complaining loudly as it was pushed back. He went over to the window and pointed out of it. "We can't just leave her out there."
"William, this winter has been one of the harshest that I have seen in-"
"She needs to be brought back, Bella. Please."
Will turned back around and the breath caught in his chest as he saw Mischa laid out on the floor between Bella and him. Her lifeless eyes somehow focused on him and he watched as her white night dress was torn apart with some sort of jagged and unkind invisible instrument. Her skin ripped apart, blood pooling around Bella's shoes. Mischa's mouth opened and a dreadful scream came from her as her insides were strewn about.
Will licked his lips, mouth incredibly dry.
"She needs to be with her parents. Please. If not for her sake, then for Hannibal's. Don't make him bury his family twice. Don't make him live with the knowledge that his little sister is going to be stuck out there all winter where who knows what kinds of animals could get to her. Please, Bella."
His show must have been enough because there was a loud sigh that caused Mischa's body to disappear, taking all the blood and entrails with it. Will looked up to find Bella pinching the bridge of her nose which most of the time told Will that he was going to get his way.
"I will speak to my husband," she finally said. "But for now, can we please focus on your studies for the rest of the day? Unless you are in need of seeing the doctor."
"I am very well," Will assured, returning to his desk. "Thank you, Bella."
"Now, can you please read the passage?"
Will wandered through the library, having been given the afternoon free and without much more to do, he decided to show Hannibal the room. The shelves lined the walls, housing ancient volumes, though Will found them to be more decoration than for actual reading as dust covered most of them.
A combination of grassy notes with a tang of acids and a hint of floral over an underlying mustiness filled the room and Will inhaled of it deeply as he watched Hannibal's fingers trail across the books on the shelf before him.
"Do you like to read?" Will asked, collapsing into a plush chair, and pulling a carved wooden bird from a table into his lap. He petted over the beak with his index finger, taking in the complexity of the bird's feathers.
"I do enjoy reading. I would read my sister to sleep at night," Hannibal answered as he moved onto the next shelf. "Books are expressions of a brain still connected to the deepest emotions a human can experience. On the pages the higher brain is infused with the guidance of the soul, of empathy and the creative gift. It's humankind's intellect at its finest, showing how these logical abilities are only a blessing when they are combined with passion."
Will's brows furrowed and he pulled his attention from the bird and to Hannibal whose back was to him. The words swirled around his mind as he tried to get them to make any sort of relative sense and finally settled on:
"What?"
The look thrown over Hannibal's shoulder was agonized, and Will felt small under it. "Books are the secrets that people do not utter aloud," he clarified. "It is the soul of the author laid bare across the pages. A self-portrait no matter how hard they try to hide behind their words."
Will looked behind Hannibal and to the books his fingers were still lovingly resting on. Will's head tipped to the side. He had never thought of books as anything more than homework he was required to complete. His mother had never read to him at night to help him sleep, but she was never there. Alana hadn't either. And never once had he reached for a book as some form of entertainment. Maybe that would have to change.
"Is there a book you would recommend?" Will placed the bird aside, forgotten, and got to his feet. He found himself at Hannibal's side, ignoring the way Hannibal's eyes burned into him. He reached out to where Hannibal's hand was resting and pulled the book from the shelf, fingers brushing against Hannibal's. "Is this one any good?" Will turned the book over in his hands, turning a blind eye to the way his chest clenched from the touch and how Hannibal's closeness brought a heat to Will's side.
"Only if you enjoy philosophy." Hannibal's response was soft. The gentlest that Will had ever heard Hannibal speak and he did his best to keep his eyes down on the cover of the book. The book was pulled from his hands and returned to the shelf. "This way." Hannibal's hand took Will's and pulled Will towards another of the dozen floor to ceiling shelves as if he knew where he was going, like he had been here before.
Hannibal's grip was warm, and Will was struck with the belief that winter could end at that moment if Hannibal refused to release his grip. Hannibal could keep summer alive for the rest of eternity and Will wanted to bask in his sunlight.
They stopped in front of a shelf and Will instantly went icy when Hannibal's hand left his to trail again of the spines of the books. Before Will could question the reaction, a book was being pulled from the shelf.
"If you want to read something interesting, that will leave you thinking, this is the one you want to read."
Will took the outheld book, flipping it over and over in his hands. It was a small, brown leather-bound book with a golden inlay in the spine, the only indication of what it was.
"Utopia," Will muttered, brows knitting together. He opened the book and flipped through the pages, dread filling him. "It's in Latin."
"It will be good practice for you then, won't it?" Will opened his mouth to answer but found himself cut off as Hannibal's tease continued. "When you've finally managed to get through it, I would enjoy a conversation about it."
"I am not going to sit and gossip around tea about books like my mother does with her handmaidens," Will snapped at Hannibal, promptly returning the book to the shelf, and folding his arms over his chest. "And furthermore-"
The sound of the library door being open captured Will's attention and he stepped around Hannibal to see who had come to disturb them. It was possible it was his mother. He often found her coming and going from this room at any hour of the day or night, a new book in hand each time she left. Or perhaps it was Bella, looking for the next torture method for Will's future studies. Instead, Will found the bright red curls belonging to Frederica.
"You are required in the throne room," she announced with a small bow of her head. "The two of you."
Will's curiosity peaked and he looked back towards Hannibal who had gone stiff at the inclusion of himself. Either something new had happened that concerned the two of them, which Will doubted, or this involved his earlier attempts to recover Mischa. This in turn meant that either Jack was successful, and Will was going to have to lay eyes on that little girl again or that Jack had been unsuccessful and Will was in trouble or that Jack had outright refused to help and Will was still in trouble. He couldn't exactly decide which one he preferred the outcome to be.
As they left the library to follow Frederica down the twisting halls, Will caught out of the corner of his eye, Hannibal pulling the red ribbon from his pocket and twisting it in a near nervous manner. Will kept his gaze forward, but his mind raced.
Was Hannibal as on edge as Will was? Was he afraid? Did he come to the conclusion of the same outcomes that Will had? What would happen when they stepped into the throne room? How would Hannibal react? Would he stay the same stone-cold wall he displayed for everyone save Will?
The doors to the throne room were opened and Will stepped in, doing his best to absorb the scene in place before him. A rather exhausted and cold looking Jack stood at the side of the thrones. His normally dark skin was flushed from the outside cold and Bella was looking over her husband with concern.
Will's parents stood on the opposite side of Bella and Jack. Sanford looked none too impressed. There was more anger that laced his features than Will had foreseen there being, and he felt his heart tick as he tried to pinpoint what his punishment would be for this offense.
Theophania had one hand on her hip and the other over her mouth, shock on her face. There was grief mixed with wrath in her eyes, though it was not pointed at Will. He assumed that it was pointed towards the monsters that had done sick things to the little girl who was lying in the middle of the room.
Her skin was a strange shade of blue and her night dress was no longer white. It was grey with dirt in the parts that weren't a muddy brown color. Will wasn't close enough to see if her insides were all still present or if they had been stolen by hungry critters, but he could picture the original image more than perfectly in his mind.
Maybe seeing Mischa in the flesh had put into perspective how real everything had been. How slow the process of finding answers was going. Will hadn't heard a single whisper from any of the staff as to what Jack had been supposed to be questioning all the guards for. Maybe the inquiries had never even begun. Will wouldn't put it past his father to put on a show and then not follow through. That was the type of man he was.
Will took a few more steps into the room but stopped when Hannibal's presence beside him did not follow. He turned back to where Hannibal stood, ribbon held taut between his fingers, eyes wide and frozen on his sister. He looked as if he had stopped breathing and the world were crumbling down around him, and Will wished he could see what was going on in that head of Hannibal's.
Hannibal had been so sure the night before that Will hadn't considered that seeing his sister again would stop Hannibal in his tracks. Hannibal hadn't so much as blinked when his parents' deaths were mentioned, why would seeing his sister's body haunt him like this? Maybe Will would never understand the bond of siblings. Maybe this was something beyond him.
"Hannibal," Will said, outstretching his hand towards the boy whose skin had turned sickly pale. Will swore he could hear Hannibal's stomach churning. Tear shining eyes sluggishly dragged themself from Mischa and to Will's face. Will's arm was beginning to hurt from being outstretched in much the same way it had when Will had extended his cloak for the shivering child in the snow. "It's alright. They can't hurt you."