Chapter Text
Prince Will is too young to fight.
His father says so, often patting him on the back and laughing that he has soldiers who take care of such things and the silly thoughts in his son’s head should just stay there. Will hates it, hates his title and hates the thought that he will sit on the side while other young men his age go to war while he preens for the princesses his father parades in front of him.
The idea of him learning a fighting skill at all takes much cajoling, his father relenting when he tells Will he can learn fencing by one of his most trusted knights now home from a decade long mission.
Knight Hannibal Lecter is not a nice man.
He fights hard for his king, his station, and after spending years in a pointless war the last thing he wants to do is teach the king’s spoiled son something so simple as fencing so the boy can show off in front of the princesses in waiting. The first time he meets Will he is relentless, angry at the circumstances that bring them together to the point where he hurts the prince enough that he’s asked breathlessly to stop.
Hannibal does not expect to see Will again, though he is out patrolling when he spots the young Prince fighting an invisible enemy in the darkness obviously practicing after only one lesson. The idea that the boy wants to learn so badly makes him feel like the worst king of monster, their next lesson he teaches more slowly until they find themselves together more often than not.
The first time Will bests him he’s full of such pride, a deep smile appearing without his consent and Will hugs him without thought their closeness a shock that suddenly the knight does not want to let end. They pull apart and Will stares at him, his eyes wide and embarrassed those eyes looking down at his lips more than once before Hannibal pulls away.
He is a fool.
The Prince has not come to a single lesson in over a week, his attentions elsewhere with the newest princess to visit the castle, Princess Mollyana. He patrols more often than not outside when they have their meetings, Will laughing at things the young woman says and not once noticing him skulking about in the shadows.
Jealousy is not something he thought he’d ever feel, not ever in all of his life has he before, and now it was starting to seem like he’d continue to feel it for the rest of his life if the rumors were anything to go by.
“I hear the Prince is going to marry her,” Crawford says, handing him his glass as they sit together one evening not long after the princess has gone home.
Hannibal feels his lip curl in disgust at the idea, Will living that life when the only time Hannibal has ever seen Will happy as with a sword in his hand.
“I have heard the rumors.”
Jack eyes him carefully. “You are the worst at keeping your thoughts and feelings to yourself, my friend, you are aware of this?”
Hannibal says nothing, drinking his mead as his friend continues.
“The boy has stopped going to your lessons,” Jack offers, sipping, “But he has not stopped practicing.”
Hannibal pauses, his hand stiff as he stares. “You have seen him?”
“I have,” Jack smiles, “And I have heard him watch you when you cannot see him.”
Hannibal sets down his glass, “He is a prince, and it is not…”
“His father wants a successor, and Will wants to be a fighter not a lover. Why can’t he be all three?”
Hannibal looks down, “It is not proper, Jack, you know this.”
Jack leans in to whisper to him, “You have never backed down from a fight before, Hannibal, what scares you so much now that you are running from this one?”
Hannibal looks up at him, letting out a breath as he confesses, “Rejection. I have never wanted something so badly in all my life. I am an old man, he is a boy of eighteen.”
“Nineteen,” Jack laughs, “And I do not think he would turn you away.”
Hannibal picks up his glass and drinks it down quickly, the burn in his throat making it easier to focus as he sets it down with a clang.
“If I get rejected, will you comfort me?”
Jack laughs, “With more mead and loose women, maybe,” he pats Hannibal’s shoulder again, “I do not think you will need it.”
Hannibal smiles, standing, “I need only to find him now.”
“I think he is with his father,” Jack says, “Go to him.”
The long walk makes him calmer, it’s easier to move and when he finds himself standing outside King Henry’s throne room he pauses to listen.
“It is what I want father, more than anything.”
A pause, he hears the king laugh, “If that is the case, I certainly hope this marriage makes you happy my son.”
Will lets out a joyous laugh that breaks Hannibal in two, hearing him say, “It will, father! It will! I only need to ask and my heart will be filled completely in!”
He turns to leave, teeth bared as he fights the urge to break something or someone the anger at himself for thinking Will would even consider an old man as his match burning a hole in him the longer he dwells.
“Sir! Sir!”
Hannibal pauses, turning to see Will running towards him with a smile that he does not return. “You have remembered me then.”
Will pauses, a frown making Hannibal feel slightly better even though he feels petty for it. “I could not forget.”
“You seemed to the last week, I know you had other things occupying your time.”
Will swallows, visibly flustered now as he says, “Yes, my father wishes me to marry.”
Hannibal feels his hand curl around the sword against his hip, “Yes, I have heard.”
“I have decided…”
He looks up, cutting Will off. “As have I,” he tries not to let his feeling show when he declares, “I am going on another mission, my commission to the palace has been filled and I decided to move on.”
Will pales, stepping back. “I…oh. I did not know.”
Hannibal nods, looking away, “I do not think I am needed here any longer, and the castle bores me as it is.”
“You will be missed, knight,” Will’s voice is quiet and Hannibal looks up, frowning at the sorrow in the boy’s eyes.
“I will miss some things about it here as well. I wish you all the luck in the world, your highness.”
He turns and nearly runs from the hall, from Will, his bitterness and heartache burning to anger the further he gets away.
This place will only ruin him if he stays here longer and it would not take long to find another lord who wanted his services. He would see the king in the morning before he left, and then never think of him nor his son ever again.