Snared by the Ravenstag

14

There were many levels to his memory palace.

His hands grazed the walls as he walked steadily through the marble tiled corridors, the scents of a lifetime rising up to meet him.

Perhaps he would sit in the chapel and listen to the choir boy, or maybe he would sit opposite Will in his office...

It was then he noticed a wooden door, ajar.

The room was empty, with shafts of cool winter sunlight through wall length arched windows illuminating the warm wooden floors.

Empty except for a single easel, covered by a velvet robe.

Hannibal pulled it back and smiled. The painting was of his Anna, her body clad in the open red robe with a crown of shadow black raven feathers on her head. She was raised on antlers, but not impaled.

He knew then he would have to recreate the image.

Lying on the antlers like a bed, her turquoise eyes staring out of the painting, Anna was smirking. He  realised a snake had wound itself around the bare leg and up to her right hand where she stroked its head. 

Her ring finger was bare.

His palace shifted, and the ring was behind a glass case.

In reality, the ring was hidden, darkness was an easy thing to manipulate once you lived in it.

"Hannibal," a voice called, dragging him from the room of light, from his Anna, "Hannibal, you have a visitor."

His eyes snapped open to stare at the seated Anna, and his smile grew. They'd put cuffs on both his hands and feet to protect her as she frowned at him over her meal.

"You wanted to see me?" She asked carefully, disturbing her dessert with a spoon. 

"Yes," he replied simply, "I missed you."

                                                                                         ***
His eyes burned into her.

All pretence of a person suit was gone, leaving the monster in his place. His nostrils flared when she moved, breathing in the new scent lingering just above her skin.

An interesting blend, reminding him of fall and bonfires.

The small movement caught her eye and made her smile faintly.

"It's a new fragrance, I bought it a few weeks ago."

"Hmm. A delicious scent, like toffee apples at a bonfire...and yet no scent of dog. I hope your dog is well."

The mention of Pickles set her back up. Of course he would find the areas to wound her.

"He died of natural causes, a few months ago." Hannibal inclined his head and began to eat, eyes never straying from her face.

"My apologies, should you need a good psychiatrist..."

Her hand shook for a second, disturbing the melted chocolate.

"I'm afraid I live with one, but I'm in the process of finding a new dog. It'll all depend on what Frederick thinks about..."