Chapter 1

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Hannibal observed Will who now sat infront of him. When he had entered Hannibal's office he had noticed Will s scent. Underneath, or rather overtop, of his usual scent:dog, distasteful aftershave and sweat there was confusion. It was this confusion that was also evident on his face, making his watery blue eyes drip with it like running water colours.
"How have you been, Will?" Hannibal asked, his tone soft so he didn't cause Will to recede into himself.
"I've been having dreams,"
"About Abigale?"
"No they're different than the others....these ones are...odd."
Will paused, his eyes drifting to the ground. "I have them even when I'm not sleeping, I see them behind my eyes. Like they're waiting for me to resume them." Like a book Hannibal thought to himself.
"What do you see behind closed eyes, Will?"
Will shifted slightly."I see myself." Hannibal watched as his eyes dulled slightly in rememberence.
"You are alone?" Hannibal asked, though it could've sounded like a statement. Will's eyes flickered over Hannibals face for a second before he responded.
"No." He said, breaking precious seconds of eyecontact.
Hannibal shifted. His curiosity was growing stronger and he was more than happy to hear what Will had to say.
"Who else is there, Will?" He inquired, staring at Will s face. Hannibal noted the emotion he got from each twitch, each roaming glance, even each breath.
"I don't know." Will replied, sounding lost and dismayed.
"You do not know them?" Will's eyes darted up at Hannibal's but he never held Hannibal's gaze.
"I think its you, Dr.Lecter."
Hannibal wasn't suprised, he knew already that he was worming his way into William's mind but he very badly wanted to know his role this time in Will's dreams. Hannibal prided himself on peircing Will's tormented mind but was not however completely happy with the results, no matter how much they interested him. Perhaps these dreams would make him more content and proud of his works. Maybe then you shall be closer, and maybe then you shall see me. Hannibal thought, if he was alone he might have smiled or even chuckled to himself. Of course right now that was not appropriate given the situation.
"Are there others?" Hannibal asked, secretly hoping Will wouldn't mention anyone or anything that was similar to similar to Alana, Ms.Bloom was a neccisary evil. No completely necissary.
"There's other men." Will said. Eyes downcast. "One of them goes by Arthur."
Hannibal was now intrigued. "And the others?"
Will shook his head "I don't know."
Hannibal shifted in his chair, crossing his legs, he would be here for awhile.
"I want you to describe them to me, what you see in your dreams, Will." It was a command, not a question. With Hannibal most of his questions were commands in disguise and to his satisfaction Will was obediant. Will takes a deeep breath and closes his eyes like he's at one of Hannibal's glorious crime scenes.

Tristan rode with his brothers in arms, Galahad trailed behind him, his dark horse shiny with sweat. Galahad looked nervous, he always did. He didn't like fighting, Tristan knew that much. Tristan watched the field below him, his eyes mapping out the Pope's wagon, the roman soldiers and the forest that surrounded them. Tristan's keen eyes focused in on the forest. Something had moved. Tristan had given Isolde leave hours ago but she had told him she'd seen something, the loving creature always looked out for him. He'd have to feed her a treat later for the warning.
The woads appeared just as quickly as Tristan had noticed them, both Romans and Samatians were quick to their weapons. Tristan sped ahead prepared for the fight, he was not afraid of dying, unlike Galahad. He reached for his bow and notched his arrows before firing in quick succesion at any Woads foolish enough to not take cover. Tristan watched them with immense satisfaction as they crumpled to the ground. The large hoard of Woads was becoming thinner by the second whilst the scent of blood was getting thicker. The sound of war cries and the thudding of horse hooves fueled his bretheren turning them into almost indestructable forces of nature, all except Galahad...almost.
Tristan felt glee tug at his heart as he felled more woads with his bow. He lept from his horse and unsheathed his sword, ready for any Woads who were willing to die. Tristan's eyes flickered among his enemies but also saw Galahad, who watched him seemingly whenever he got the chance. I better make it worth his while Tristan thought, straightening his posture. His sword darted through the air like a fast silver fish, slicing through viscera, sending endorphines into Tristan's system. He glanced up from the fresh bodies to see Galahad searching for him among the fighting men, he was a good warrior but he was frightened.
Tristan reached for his bow and instictively fired, he didn't even have to see his target to know he hit it. The body hit the ground with a satifying thud. Tristen hoped Galahad had seen that, not that he cared, Galahad envied him. Looked up to him even. Tristan was no show off but he enjoyed impressing people. Yet when Tristan had looked apon Galahad, for once seeking his attention, he saw Galahad wince. You still feel sorry. Poor you. Tristen thought frustratedly. He jumped back onto his mare and rode back into the frenzy, things were just starting to get interesting when the Woads suddenly fled, realizing their inevitable defeat.
Galahad turned each way like an owl in confusion, it was easy for him to get lost in the fighting. It had nearly been the death of him when he was just a lad, but not that day, no. That was another boy's fate, another boy Tristan had already forgotten the name of. Tristan turned his horse around in time to watch arthur make a show of releasing Woad warrior, Tristan would've rather shot him but to each their own. He rode up to the other men, passing Galahad as he went. He could practically feel the pup's eyes assesing him.
"I saw you watching." Tristan said making Galahad flinch before turning to Arthur who was talking with the bishop. A god worshipper. Tristan had no use for Christianity, unlike Arthur, but he still respected the man. Trsitan was bored and missed Isolde very much, he always sent her away before he went anywhere dangerous. This was their day of freedome, of Isolde's freedome or Tristan's freedome. He did not wish to spend it with a man who saw all of them as his serfs. Tristan turned his overworked mare around passing Galahad as he made his way to the other nights, not even sparing him a glance, the scent of the air demanded bloodshed and promised rain.
"Please do not worry, bishop." Arthur said whole heartedly, Arthur had always been a pleasant man. He was great commander, worhty of becoming legend, they all were. Tristan didn't feel that way neccisarily about himself, but the others. Now they were the stuff of legends. "We will protect you." Yes we will, if you die we are mangled and then strung up as an example for the next group of nights. Tristan thought bitterely as he watched the dark clouds in the sky. "Oh I have no doubt, commander, no doubt." Tristan rode silently with the other nights, unsuprised by the amount of Roman soldiers left, only the best could survive an attack like that. And to Tristan's sunconcious relief, Galahad was one of the best.

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