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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 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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