The Sculpture And The Sculpted

Chapter 13

Will's smile grew as his curls were played with. He listened happily to Hannibal's heartbeat in his chest and let his eyes read over the letter before him. He bit his bottom lip between his teeth to hide a smile and let a finger reach out to trail the paper that Hannibal was holding for them to see.

"You wrote so properly," Will muttered. "Your Highness this, Your Highness that."

"I'm not exactly what you would call one of equal status," Hannibal defended.

"You should have become a poet." Will snickered and there was a light tug to his curls. "In the solitude of the cold, stone walls of my chamber, my thoughts often drift to the tender moments we shared under the moonlit skies. Hannibal, you could rival Chaucer himself."

"Hush," Hannibal instructed with a smile in his tone. A kiss was pressed to Will's head. "Your letters weren't any less dramatic. I long for the warmth of your embrace, the gentle touch of your hand, and the sound of your laughter that used to fill the halls of our castle with joy. Our castle, Will?"

A blush rose to Will's cheeks. "Did we love each other then?"

"I don't think we understood what love was," Hannibal mused. "All I can say for certainty is that the longer we were apart, the more my thoughts consisted of you and the more I missed you."

Will reached up, gently brushing a finger over the healing gash in Hannibal's nose. The bruising was nearly gone now, the sign of their skirmish nearly disappeared. Will found it sad in a way. He would miss the mark he had left on Hannibal. Hannibal stole his hand and brought it to his lips to kiss Will's fingertips.

A knock on the door caused Hannibal to sit up and carefully pull himself from beneath Will. He returned to the chair beside Will's bed before Will called, "Enter," while getting himself comfortable again. The door opened and Beverly stepped in with a fine silver tray, laden with what looked like a soup of some sort and some more tea. She placed it onto the bed, allowing Will the chance to move all the letters out of the way.

"Is it safe to assume that I am wanted back to continue the assembly from earlier?" Hannibal questioned with a sigh.

"Yes," Beverly answered, though her attention stayed on Will, a hand reaching out to gently caress his face. "You look positively feverish. Are you feeling alright?"

"Other than my throat and lungs still hurting, I feel ok," Will assured. "I just supposed that the pain would stick around for a while."

"Should I stay with you for the evening? Or perhaps I could find Alana."

"I don't know when I'll be able to return," Hannibal stated, getting from the chair and pulling it closer to allow Beverly to sit. "Perhaps it would be best for her to stay with you."

"Would you send for Brian and James when you're down there?" Will asked, happily accepting the kiss that Hannibal gave him.

"Of course," Hannibal assured with a nod. "Don't be too harsh on him, Beverly."

"I'll practice the utmost restraint, I promise." Beverly's smile was tight, but Will could hear the care in the tone. "But when I get the chance to speak to you alone, I cannot extend the same kindness."

"Nor would I expect you to do such a thing." Hannibal gave Beverly the barest of smiles and turned to leave the room with a longing look at Will before the door was closed behind him.

"What is all this?" Beverly reached out, pulling one of the many opened letters on the bedspread to her. Her eyes scanned the words as Will did his best to sit up in his bed so that he could eat some of the food that sat balanced precariously on his lap. "He did write you after all, didn't he?"