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Hannibal (i_consume) wrote in we_coexist,
@ 2012-05-19 16:39:00

Entry tags:

hannibal lecter, honour bellaforte

Tea and some other things (Beauty)
It was nice to have a moment to relax. Working and interning under Dr Brennan took much of his time. But he was in no way upset about that. Hannibal very much enjoyed being busy and having his mind stimulated so consistently. Brennan was a very good teacher, she held nothing back, and gave as much information at once as she thought he could handle. He only hoped that she was enjoying their time together as much as he was.

Still, sitting and watching the world go by gave him time to think of other things. To consider life and the things he had learned recently. To run through his lessons, to relive the moments outside of the wall. And to give attention to the lives going on outside of his own.

After all these years, the City still managed to surprise him. Throw new things in his direction, and he was glad for that. He never had a chance to be bored, or to have to seek out his own entertainment. Hannibal lived a very satisfying life here. He wondered how many others could say the same thing.

There was a full tea service in front of him. The coffee shop he was sitting in wasn't exactly a high class venue, but he had asked if they had this kind of thing, and they had said yes. Hannibal wondered if it was there because the City had known he was in the mood for it, or if it was there because it was there. Either way, he was quite pleased. The tray held a full pot of hot water, a silver box of assorted teas, steepers, small spoons, sugar, cream, and a small plate of biscuits. The other cups had gone untouched, and really it was a lot for one man, but that took none of the pleasure out for him.

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i_consume
2012-05-20 01:01 am UTC (link)

Hannibal looked the style over for a good few minutes before giving his comments. He had seen dresses like this around the City before. Usually with high heels made out of cork.

"I do not like that one." He said, finally. "The one strap look can be elegant if done correctly, on this dress with this pattern, it feels like somebody is trying too hard. The ruffle at the bottom makes it look childish. To me it feels as if this designer couldn't make up their mind on what style they wanted."

He looked the girl over. "Are these new styles for you? You appear to be at home in what you are currently wearing, yet you are very nervous over these dresses that you are showing me."

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i_tame
2012-05-20 01:23 am UTC (link)

As soon as he said 'childish', Beauty started folding the dress. She slid it back into the shopping bag she'd pulled it from, then double-checked for the receipt. Good, yes, it was still there. Good.

"Ah, well," she said, standing straight again. "I had a friend with me when I picked it out. I... I'm not... I don't have a ..."

She realized she was stammering, then sighed and set her hand on her forehead. She was just tired. She told herself she was just tired, then squared her shoulders and dropped her hand again. "I'm sorry, she said. "I'm just not used to shopping for clothes. The City picked my clothes before, and before that, I made them or tailors made them for me. I was younger then, too."

She frowned at the last shopping bag, then hesitantly pulled the final selection from it. "Does this one look childish, too?"

She was really afraid she'd never get this right.

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i_consume
2012-05-20 01:34 am UTC (link)

Hannibal stood and took the dress from her, urging her with a gentle hand to have a seat at his table across from where he had been sitting. She was having trouble with something, and she was having enough of it that she was willing to speak to a stranger. Hannibal discovered that he wished to know more.

He held the dress out in front of him.

"No, not childish. This seems like something that a girl who works in a book store would wear while she did just that. It looks professional with just a hint of fun. As if the girl who picked it is smart, but also free. It could also be a dress for a picnic. A day in the park or at the Botanical Gardens. Perhaps a casual evening." Hannibal looked at the girl, his red eyes studying her. He laid the dress carefully on the table in front of her.

"There is something more to this than you being new to the experience. A weight. You want for things to be perfect, but not just for yourself. If it had been all about you, you would not care what a stranger thinks of the choices."

Hannibal moved one of the empty tea cups and it's saucer in front of her, then displayed the silver box of teas for her to choose from.

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i_tame
2012-05-20 02:00 am UTC (link)

She very nearly argued when he guided her into the chair across from him -- but she was worn and stressed. Sitting down sounded very good to her. She'd get up when his lady returned. Then he gave her something better than a seat; he gave her peace of mind about this last dress. This one, at least, she knew she could wear to work. It might not give off exactly the right impression, but at least it was close.

It was close. She was getting better at all this.

When he offered her a selection of tea, she again almost argued -- but there was rose tea, something she absolutely adored. Before she knew it, she was filling an infuser with her selection and thanking him at the same time. Oh, tea would be very welcomed.

"I'm sorry... I don't even know your name," she said, sheepishly. "I'm Honour. Most people call me 'Beauty'. Either will do. And you're very right about everything you just said."

She plucked a sugar cube with the metal tongs and gently set it in the bottom of her teacup.

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i_consume
2012-05-20 02:11 am UTC (link)

Carefully, hot water was pourd, not a single drop splashed outside of the cup, only then Hannibal sat across from her again. "It is lovely to meet you, Honour. I am Hannibal Lecter. Not to sound like a braggart, but I have a special skill for reading people. Some have in the past called it creepy."

It went deeper than that, really. He had a natural knack for psychology and many other things when it came to the human condition. But it didn't matter here, not right now.

"You spoke of having a tailor create your clothing for you. You are from a time before most here, then. Before even my own. We had tailors, but it was more due to how my mother wished things to look than it was a requirement of life. There were stores in which one could go to find clothing, but it never suit her." Hannibal refreshed his own cup, watching the steam rise and deeply inhaling the scent of the Imperial Silver Needles he had been drinking.

"Tell me, Honour, who is it you wish to be perfect for?" Though the question was prying and personal, Hannibal's tone was soothing and friendly.

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i_tame
2012-05-20 02:36 am UTC (link)

It had been so, so long since she'd had tea like this. Oh, there had been tea before -- plenty of tea! But never quite exactly just like this, so proper. It was like being in Paris, before her father lost his ships. How odd. She'd mostly stopped thinking about Paris and France as home. There was still a twinge, still a connection to the place that she doubted she'd ever lose. But home... Home was the City. And now, the City was giving her a place that served her tea, just so, and companionship that knew how to do the same. She smiled. "The pleasure is mine, Monsieur Lecter."

She was still too tired to realize that something wasn't quite right about this gentleman. Later, when she found a quiet moment and emptied her mind, she would remember the sour note behind all the beautiful ones. But for now, she smiled politely and timed her tea in her head.

"Yes," she agreed. "I'm from the 18th century, in point of fact. Buying clothing from a rack in a store is a very new experience."

And then he had her looking at her lap. Suddenly, the edge of the table became very interesting indeed. She ran her fingertips over it restlessly. "A friend," she said, very quietly. "He's... A friend. He... he doesn't see me." The sigh, when it came, was shaky and deep. She'd never told anyone this. Not even Thomas.

"He's quite a bit older than I am. At home, this wouldn't have... Well, I'm afraid it matters, here. I was hoping I could try to look..." Prettier. Older. Better. More desirable. These things she couldn't say to anyone, not even a stranger with a voice that said it was all right to say these things.

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i_consume
2012-05-20 02:55 am UTC (link)

Hannibal knew how to serve tea in several different ways. It might have been a strange thing for him to know, but he had grown up in Lithuania with his mother serving things in both a Lithuanian and an Italian manner, he had lived in Paris and learned their ways, and Lady Murasaki had taught him the Japanese ways. He had seen how the English served their tea, and how Americans did whenever they chose to indulge. Tea in America was on the rare side as a beverage, usually kept for cold months, and certainly had no daily ritual.

"Eighteenth." Hannibal said approvingly. "I would love someday to sit and listen to you speak about how you lived. I was born in nineteen thirty three. Not nearly as ... traditional... as you. We lived in the country, however."

He sat up some, concentrating on Honour and the words she was saying. Her sudden shyness and her posture. It was obvious enough that anybody could have read her meaning, Hannibal thought. His special skills in that area were not in demand at the moment. He knew what she wanted, and he knew why she was so confused about what to do. Times were different in the City. Things that were natural for her at home were awkward for her here.

"I think that it matters a lot less than you are assuming." Hannibal tilted his head. "For a while it did matter to these modern people, if age differences were too significant, it was scoffed at. But they have circled around to a point now that it has little meaning again. Even older women are finding themselves with much younger men. A thing, I believe, that would be unheard of in your time."

He nudged the plate of cookies a hair to get her attention to them. If she had been out shopping for very long, she was likely very hungry. If the cookies did not satisfy her, he would call for something else. But she had to eat something first, or her body would feel overwhelmed. Especially considering her emotions.

"He might be a friend, but I cannot believe he is not more than that to you. Forgive my bluntness, but I doubt he has not looked at you in the way you wish. You should speak to him about your feelings."

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i_tame
2012-05-20 03:09 am UTC (link)

She managed a smile when he mentioned he was only about two centuries ahead of her. It seemed like a large amount of time, but it was still closer to her time than the City's current time.

When he offered her the plate of cookies, she politely accepted one. Her stomach wasn't in the mood for having anything other than tea, though, so she didn't do more than nibble. And listen.

It was very difficult to believe what he was saying. "You don't know this man," she said quietly. "He's distant, like he half-expects the world to disappear before him. He's only ever laughed once, that I know about. And his smiles are only really true when he's reading... or when he's listening to music. He's kind to me. He's very kind to me. But more than that..."

Beauty spread her hands, then dropped them eloquently into her lap. "I don't think he's noticed me at all, not really." It was becoming a habit, whenever she thought about this, to move her ankletted foot just enough to hear the chiming of the bells. She remembered what Charlie told her and tried to take some comfort in it.

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i_consume
2012-05-20 03:18 am UTC (link)

"Honour," Hannibal's metallic voice was smooth. "You speak of a man who has seen horror. Possibly more than he can ever explain to you. I know this, because I have seen my share of it, more than my share. What you describe is a man that I became. Keeping everything at a distance for fear that it will just be taken away. Living and loving in books because the print will never fade from the earth. Giving the heart to music because it is the only thing that you can keep with you when the times grow dark. These are things that I have done myself."

He let that sink in for a moment, having more of his own tea and picking up one of the cookies. He hoped that by eating one of his own, it would encourage her.

"Speaking as a man who has been through such things, I can tell you that if we are to break out of it, we need help. I had the hand and love of a woman named Lady Murasaki. She is the only reason I have been able to do in my life what I have done. She nursed me out of my wretched state and taught me to grow. To live and to love again. To be a part of the world instead of a spectator."

He lifted an eyebrow, waiting to see if Honour would understand what he was trying to tell her. But he didn't let her answer, instead, spoke again. "He will never come out of his shell if you do not help him. You can never know if he will love you as you love him unless you try."

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i_tame
2012-05-20 03:36 am UTC (link)

Every single word served to widen Beauty's eyes until they were so large that she felt the world could pour into them. She wanted to deny what Hannibal was saying, but it fit. All of it fit. The way he refused to talk about his home. The way he happily embraced being pulled away from it. Even his ease with handling that evil man on the street all those years ago. All of it made sense, in the frame that Hannibal put around it.

Oh. Oh, Errol. Her stomach had taken up residence somewhere on the floor between her feet. It was hard to breathe. The poor man. She never had imagined, in all her wild dreams, that he'd been hurt. Horror. Horror, Hannibal said. She touched her lips with her fingertips and closed her eyes.

The next things he said, however... His suggestions terrified her. She hid behind her teacup. How could she ever tell him what she felt? Her stomach was bunching up. She set a hand against it. Hard to breathe.

"How did she do it?" she asked faintly.

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i_consume
2012-05-20 03:42 am UTC (link)

"She was kind to me. Engaged me in activities that she enjoyed. Japanese flower arrangements, haiku, calligraphy. She taught me to fold paper cranes. How to use a sword properly. Then, one day, she insisted that I speak to her. I suppose I should note that I was completely mute." Aside from the screaming in his sleep, of course. "Through her kindness and her sharing, her lessons, I came to trust her and know that she would never let the horror touch me again."

He had done horrors for her, however. Things that had ultimately driven her away. These were, again, the sorts of things he could keep out of the conversation. Things that Honour did not need to know.

"Share yourself with him. Let him know that he is not alone. If you open up, so shall he. It will be painful for him at first, because it will be reliving it, but as the bond and trust grow between you, the easier it will become for both of you."

Hannibal paused a moment, the cup almost to his lips. "Patience." He gave one nod. "Lots of patience and knowing just when to push."

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i_tame
2012-05-20 04:20 am UTC (link)

It was wholly possible that Monsieur Lecter had absolutely no idea about Errol whatsoever. Beauty believed him, all the same. She let out a breath, then set down the remainder of her tea. It was a very hard thing he was setting in front of her. She didn't know if it was right or not. And it meant...

Well. It meant being vulnerable. It meant taking a risk with her heart. It meant possibly making a friendship sour. But if everything Hannibal were saying was true, it also meant helping. Helping quite a bit. She chewed on her bottom lip. She looked down at the shopping bags on the floor.

It seemed trivial now, her attempts to look pretty for him. She still didn't believe he saw her at all, not as anything other than a coworker and friend. She was shaking her head, although she didn't know why.

"Thank you," she said, at length. Still looking dazed, she stood and murmured, "I should... go... Thank you, Monsieur Lecter."

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