The Sculpture And The Sculpted

Chapter 43

The summer breeze blew Hannibal's hair into his face and he brushed it back, enjoying the way that they had left behind weighty responsibilities and endless demands of the kingdom. The lake glittered and danced with the pinks and purples of the sunset. The tranquility of the place offered a stark contrast to the hustle and bustle of court life.

The grass beneath them was soft by the water's edge and both Mischa and Guillaume were munching away happily a little ways off. Will's head rested in Hannibal's lap and Hannibal played with Will's hair between his occasional flips of pages of the book he was lost in. He couldn't remember the last time he had allowed himself a moment to scour the depths of a book and it had taken some time before the old habit kicked back in and he wasn't mentally checking off tasks on his to-do list.

The silence of the moment was relaxing, something pleasant in the ability to just exist in each other's spaces without having to be doing any one thing in particular. Each was lost in their own thoughts, the only sounds being the turning of pages, the breeze through the leaves in the surrounding trees and the gentle lapping of the lake's waters.

"Hannibal?" Will asked, his voice a mere whisper. "Do you ever tire of this life?"

Hannibal inhaled deeply, pulled from the written words and his eyes lifted from the book and down to the king. "Tire?" he asked, his voice feeling too loud of the surroundings. He supposed he did tire, but he hadn't been locked into this new life long enough to have a fair say, though perhaps looking at the situation as something to be locked into might have been more telling than Hannibal wanted to admit.

"Yes," Will sighed, though his eyes stayed closer as Hannibal continued to play with his curls. "The endless decisions, the constant pressure... Do you ever wish for a simpler existence?"

Hannibal held back the laugh at the ridiculousness of the direction pose question. It was in no way ridiculous for Will to ask, but to ask it of Hannibal was biased. He had lived outside of this life. He knew exactly what it was like to not have the endless decisions and the constant pressure, to have the simpler existence. Will, on the other hand, probably hadn't been allowed much taste into such a world.

Hannibal smiled softly. "There are moments when I dream of simpler days. Days when the most pressing matter would be what fruit to have with our lunches."

Will laughed, something genuine and deep and Hannibal grew sad to realize it had been a long while since he had heard Will truly laugh. "I wish I knew those days. I think the closest I became was when Theophania would sometimes bake with me in the kitchens. That seems a lifetime ago now."

Hannibal's hand paused for a moment at a mention of the queen by nothing more than her name. She was no longer his mother, and the idea that the woman who had defended Hannibal against a king who had been in on his family's deaths sent a stab of pain through Hannibal's heart. She had been a good woman. She could have been a better mother, but Hannibal was grateful for the way she had taken his side when he couldn't defend himself with words.

"Childhood does feel distant now, doesn't it?" Hannibal mused. "But even in the midst of our duties, there are moments like these that make it all worthwhile."

Will's eyes opened and looked up at Hannibal, blinking in the sunlight. "Do you ever regret choosing this path?"

"No," Hannibal answered without over-thinking. "Everything I did has brought me back here to your side. How could I ever regret those decisions?"

Will smiled, eyes closing again with a sigh.

They fell into a comfortable silence once more, enjoying the evening until it became too dark for Hannibal to read. They gathered up their horses and began the ride back to the stables where the world would be waiting for them again.