Palatial Intimacy

XX - The Feast

April 22, 2023

"What did you think of me when you first met me?"

The rest of the afternoon and evening had been uneventful. Will had had enough of messing with his mind, and he wanted a break. Hannibal cooked dinner, more chicken -- Will wasn't sure if he trusted Hannibal to feed him red meat just yet -- and the two ate at the candlelit dining table. They were seated at the corner of the table, adjacent from each other, the two closest chairs they could have chosen and still see the other's face.

"In Italy," Will continued, taking a sip of wine. He typically wasn't a wine drinker, but he found himself enjoying it more and more. "Did you know from the start that you were going to frame me?"

"No. I wanted to get to know you better. Something about you was...very appealing." Hannibal licked his lips. "I thought that you had a lot of potential."

"Potential for?"

"Your empathy makes you vulnerable. I saw you immerse yourself in a crime scene, taking on the point of view of the killer. It made me wonder if you could ever see the same thing in me."

"Clearly, I did."

"I've never been understood before. The thought that I could finally find someone who did was intoxicating." 

"I do understand. I understand so vividly. So clearly." Will stared at him. The delicious food was forgotten by the irresistible draw of the chef. "I've seen things through your eyes, quite literally. That's more than anyone else will ever get."

"The LOOM was a very rare gift, in that case." Hannibal smiled. "Perhaps Italy wasn't your final step. Perhaps fate and circumstance wanted us to carry on to this moment."

"It kept me alive so I could live to see things from your point of view."

"I want to have dinner with you, Will." 

"We are."

"A real dinner." Hannibal reached over to take Will's hand. "With real meat."

Will inhaled. "You want to bring me a victim. Like a satisfied dog bringing squirrels to its master."

"Normally I would be offended at the comparison. But when it comes to you, then yes. That's the closest metaphor to how I feel about you."

"Have I...'had dinner' with you before?"

"Yes. A few times. Once of your own making." Hannibal's eyes gleamed with pride. "You brought me a squirrel in your own teeth."

"Did you have something to do with it?"

"Maybe. Does that matter in the long run, though? I sent him after you, yes, but there were many ways to take care of it. You didn't have to slaughter him the way you did. He was utterly mangled."

"You sent him after me?"

"Yes." Hannibal nodded. "I wasn't worried about you. I knew that you would protect yourself, one way or another."

"He could have killed me." 

"Oh, no, he wouldn't have." Hannibal seemed almost amused at the idea. "If I wanted that, I would have sent practically anyone else. He was young, inexperienced. Much less trained than you."

"Your trained pup." Will pressed his lips together in thought. "Did I ruin the meat?"

"No. You made it easier for me to access." He picked up Will's hand, examining the knuckles. "See that?" He pointed to a specific spot on Will's left middle finger, right where the finger met the back of the hand. The skin there was slightly mottled, scarred so subtly that you wouldn't see it unless you knew what you were looking for. He traced it lightly with the tip of his own finger. "You got a little roughed up. But I took care of you."