Snared by the Ravenstag

18

In her dreams, the dark stag led her through a meadow.

To Hannibal.

The beast cowered and dropped to its knees when his hand reached out to touch its head.

Blood trailed from his fingertips, leaving the stag's fur stained red. His white shirt was covered in it, his hair unkempt.

She tried to stop, she didn't want to go near him.

But when he called, she went to him.

Leaves crunching beneath her bare feet made a soft carpet as she walked through the trees towards him. Somewhere in the woods, people were talking.

Crawford, Graham.

"Don't go," Frederick Chilton warned from somewhere directly behind her, "Anna, don't!"

Her heart skipped when she turned to look, but there was no one there. 

"Anna," Hannibal called again, amusement in his tone, "are you alright?"

"I thought I heard...people." She replied, stopping in front of him.

He pointed and she looked to her right.

They were all in a display, not unlike the one on the beach. 

At the very top, the body of the Ravenstag, still wet with blood.

The blood on his hands was warm when he brushed her hair back from her face. 

"You are safe," he said softly, "do you understand? You are safe here..."

***

"Wake up, Anna," he was shaking her gently, "Anna, you are safe. You are safe. Anna..."

She jerked forward to find herself underneath Hannibal as he stared down at her in the dark, scratch marks on his arms.

"I'm sorry," she mumbled, "I didn't mean to...."

He led back down beside her and stroked her hair,

"You were screaming my name."

How would she answer?

"I had a dream that you killed them all."

To her surprise, Hannibal rumbled deep in his chest. Her heart skipped a beat until she realised he was laughing.

"Oh, Anna. You don't need to worry."

***

In the unbroken silence, Hannibal realised the truth.

No matter how much he cared for Anna, there was never going to peace for her.

He could only honour her.