hollow_moon | For Hannibal

For Hannibal

His invitation to join him at his cousin Elliot's country estate for the weekend had been genuine, and not long after their dinner together, Hannibal had received a very posh looking card in the mail, with a date, directions, and a list of attire that would be needed for the weekend. From hunting to dinner dress, it was all laid out in beautiful calligraphy, and sealed with the wax seal the Collingwoods had been using for centuries.

The estate itself was grand and sprawling, a massive home centred between immaculate gardens and very dense and lush woods. There was nothing else for miles around, but the estate was never empty. At the moment it was filled with the younger Collingwood men and their guests, for what was intended to be a men's retreat before the coming months of more feminine socials and dinner parties.

Val rarely smoked, but he was currently indulging in his cousin's pipe and imported tobacco as he lounged in the library. They were due to set out shortly to go on their first hunt, but Val had been doing this for so long that he knew there was no rush. No doubt by now second cousin Reginald would be throwing his first of many fits, while Elliot tried to sooth him and calm him down. It was as much a tradition as the rest of the weekend really...

The door opened, and Val smiled as he looked over and saw Dr. Lecter.

"Ah, Hannibal. Avoiding the racket of Cousin Reginald's tantrum?" he asked with a soft laugh.

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It was clear Valentine wanted to. He didn't want to harm the beautiful animal, not if he could avoid it... However, before he could make his mind up, Elliot leaned over and spoke in his ear.

"Your turn, Val. You're the only one who's not taken a buck down before. Go on," he cousin encouraged, speaking in a soft whisper.

"He wont do it," Christopher chimed in quietly, rolling his eyes. "He doesn't have the spine for it, do you Valentine?"

...And he didn't. Valentine's finger hesitated on the trigger, and Elliot sighed. "It's your shot to take if you want it, Hannibal."

Hannibal stepped in order to be able to assess the shot, but his foot stepped on a branch and the snapping scared the deer away. It was purposeful on Hannibal's behalf. He wanted to see what this failure to shoot would do and the consequences would be much less visible if Hannibal had shot the deer instead. "I suppose the deer was meant to live beyond today," he remarked lightly.

Valentine's family didn't seem to mind too much and were up and away trying to find the next. Hannibal lingered next to Valentine. "Why do you go hunting if you don't want to hunt?" He asked, passing no judgement.

"It's not that I don't enjoy it- I enjoy it to a point... It''s expected though. Of me, I mean. All the men in my family hunt," he explained.

"Have you ever shot your rifle?" Hannibal asked.

"I've shot my share of hares and the like," Val insisted. "It's just... It's hard to explain, Hannibal. There are things about me you don't know, and perhaps it's best you don't. ...I keep myself under tight control, and I pride myself on my strong moral compass- I need those things to feel- More human, I suppose."

"Then why don't we turn our attention on something else?" Hannibal suggested helpfully. "Let that moral compass guide you, and not the pressure from your peers."

Valentine seemed unsure, clearly not accustom to going against the grain when it came to things involving his family.

However, after a moment he nodded his agreement.

"Yes, alright. ...Actually, I could quite use a drink," he admitted.

The closer it came to nightfall, the more tired and frail Val became, as if the moon was already pulling at him.

"Are you sure that is not still the pressure guiding you?" Hannibal said, but with a mild smile. "But I will join you for a drink."

As they walked, Hannibal noticed a slight change in Valentine, as if he was suddenly very tired. "Are you feeling well?"

"Honestly? No. I'll be alright though. The illness comes and goes. I'll have a few bad days, but in no time I'll be right as rain," He said, smiling to reassure the other man that this was all fine and normal for him.

"I hope you'll forgive me if I retire to bed early this evening."

"Not at all," Hannibal replied. He had decided that he would venture into the gardens past eleven. He was curious to know what the family was on about.

"A nightcap then."

"Perfect," Val smiled, nodding as he led them back inside.

It was a quarter to ten when Val excused himself. Elliot and the others had returned and they were all gathered in the sitting room, but none of them seemed worried when Val said his goodnight and slipped off to 'bed'.

Bed, in this case, was anything but. Quietly he slipped out the back and into the gardens, making his way through the dark and into the woods.

Hannibal stayed and took another drink. It was near eleven when he excused himself too. He was met with sounds of disappointment as to his early departure. But he smiled and was not persuaded to have one more drink.

He dressed in dark clothes and wore a dark coat, in order to be as invisible as possible. He slipped out easily, and soon enough was moving around the gardens and then the woods.

The smells were delightful, but there was something else in the air.

Val had done this so many times, and he carefully removed his shirt, hanging it off a high branch to be collected in the morning. He was about to remove his trousers next, when he heard the faint sound of something- No, someone- nearby.

Turning, he sniffed the air.

"Oh, no- Hannibal. You can't be out here. Truly, please, just go back to the house... It's not safe here," he warned, his voice tight, as though he was in pain.

Above them hung a full moon, bright and only faintly obscured by clouds.

Hannibal turned and found Valentine as he was about take off his trousers. There was no one with him, which was Hannibal's first assumption. He was pained, that much was obvious, so Hannibal's second reaction was to approach. "Have you fallen ill? Let me take you back to the house."

"No. No, Hannibal," Val gasped, taking a step back to put some distance between them again.

"Just go. Leave. ...I'm fine, I swear," he begged, just as he doubled over in pain.

Hannibal approached further, seeing Valentine was obviously in pain. As he stepped, the clouds fell away and the light of the moon reached both men. The feel of it on the back of his neck, made Hannibal realize what was going on here.

He'd never seen such a thing, of course, but when one knew fairies and vampires, the jump to werewolves just wasn't that large.

Valentine was a werewolf?

"This is your ailment?" He asked, not stepping any closer, but back a few steps.

Val nodded, momentarily breathless, and panting.

"I've never been around a human in my other form, Hannibal. Not since I was a child and the wolf was a pup. I've no idea how I'll react. You need to go..." he insisted, just as his bones seemed to snap and shift.

His clothing was stretched and ripped, until it was nothing more than rags- And there stood the wolf, elegant and clearly curious as it studied the human before it. Valentine was still in there though, still in control, to a point. He knew this mortal, and faint recognition showed in the animal's vivid green gaze.

Hannibal didn't approach any further, but stood in genuine awe as he watched Valentine change his muscles, his bone structure, his skin, into that of a wolf. It was a beautiful sight.

He understood he had to tread carefully - the wolf is a wild animal and if Valentine lost control, he could become very dangerous. But curiosity did win - at least for a few moments. He didn't approach, but didn't run away either. Two vivid green eyes looked upon him, and Hannibal looked back, seeing Valentine in the animal's gaze.

"Magnificent," he said, quietly, humbly almost.

The wolf growled, but it didn't look ready to attack- It looked afraid. Guarded. It had been so long since it had been allowed near humans, and it seemed worried.

That fear was Valentine's though, and the wolf struggled with it for a moment, before seeming to relax.

Curious now, it trotted cautiously closer.

Hannibal had been around wild animals in his youth, and he knew a little of how they might react. He knew to cast his head down, so as not to appear a threat, and knew not to back away, so as not to appear scared prey.

He allowed it, instead, to be examined by the wolf. He was ready, though, to sprint away, to attack, to do whatever needed to survive.

The wolf seemed to relax a little more, recognizing Hannibal's scent, and it nuzzled the man's hand before sniffing the air.

Valentine had made sure to eat his fill before turning, but had left one of the skinned hares they'd hunted earlier in the day in the clearing- Something to keep the wolf happy. It wasn't hungry yet though, and it scratched at the dirt around it, covering it a bit, before turning to Hannibal again.

Head cocked to the side, it was clear it wasn't sure what to make of human companionship. Though the wolf had faint memories of Valentine's father keeping it company when the man had still been just a pup. It had known human touch and human kindness, and though it was still wild, and still dangerous- when not well fed and happy- it seemed almost domesticated as it brought Hannibal part of the hare it had just buried.

Hannibal seemed relaxed and calm, but he did not loose sight of the facts. This was a wolf, and it might at any time decide he didn't appreciate the man's intrusion. He did not sit down, therefore, even though that would bring them to the same height. He opted to stand and thus keep the use of his legs if he should need it. He had a branch in sight, and he might be able to climb into the tree easily. That was his (very modest) escape plan.

He nodded in appreciation to the partial hare, and tore it loose at the joint to return another part back to the wolf. They were sharing. And Hannibal would give him part of what was his.

That seemed to please the creature, and it took the offered half and sat with it, chewing and tearing at the flesh. The meat painted its muzzle with blood, and it ate a little more before burying the meat again and turning to leave.

It looked back at Hannibal once more, still not sure what to make of the human, then gracefully took off to roam freely in the moonlight.

Hannibal watched it as he left. He had never witnessed such a beautiful and literal transformation.

He was respectful of the hare offered and so he returned to the house and borrowed the kitchen to cook it for himself. It was only a thigh, but with a few herbs, he easily cooked up a small midnight snack.

He sat down at the dinner table to eat it and looked out over the garden, wondering if and how Valentine would return.

The wolf ran all night, it never slept when it was offered freedom to roam, and it was nearly noon when Valentine made an appearance at last. Having snuck back into the house that morning to shower and sleep a little, he still looked a touch weak and pale as he went looking for Hannibal in the large house.

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