(no subject)

[thewidewideworld]

[from here}

Sinric comes down from his room, still dressed his furs and heavily embroiled tunic but looking fresh and scrubbed.

He smiles brightly to see Hannibal.

Comments

[thewidewideworld]

Niketas turns his head, tracking the sounds of Sinric's tidy movements . It's clear he doesn't like that Sinric has gone so quiet but doesn't know how to do anything about it.

Instead he focuses on Hannibal again. "Thank you. I'm very grateful for what you're doing for me. It is a debt I can never replay."

[cook_the_rude]

"Do not feel indebted; I do what I can," Hannibal assures him. "I couldn't not do this; the pull of the challenge is too strong. There is a reason I am a doctor."

[thewidewideworld]

"A seeker of challenge and learning." Niketas nods, smiling softly. "I respect that greatly. No wonder you and Sinric because fast friends. Both journeying for new experience."

Sinric offers Hannibal a beaker of tea, helping Niketas to sit up a bit and sip some tea of his own. "It will help you keep up your strength."

Niketas wraps his hand around Sinric's fingers, holding him as he sips. "Apple? I haven't had this since I left the Empire. How?"

Sinric smiles his soft smile. "Milliways. I will bring you some if you wish? Along with what ever medicines you need."

Niketas'

[cook_the_rude]

Hannibal sips his tea, and watches them.

[thewidewideworld]

"You are too good to me." Niketas brushes his fingers over Sinric's wrist. "Better than I deserve."

"Hush and drink your tea. I'm sure there is more Dr. Lecter needs to do and hours of light are precious."

Sinric slips away to make himself some tea and set some fresh water to boil. He's very aware of Hannibal's eyes on him - caught between a man who encouraged his pleasures, however complex or dark, and a man who reminds him of the simplicity of his cage, in service of the pleasure of others.

His cheeks flush, unable to meet Hannibal's eye.

[cook_the_rude]

Hannibal quietly sips his tea and smiles, calm as a tiger at rest.

[thewidewideworld]

Sinric glances to him, studying Hannibal's impassive expression from the corner of his eye. He brings a series of dark and passionate thoughts to mind, focusing on them as if reminding himself he's no-longer that passive pet.

He moves to collect their cups, humming under his breath as he brushes his fingers over Hannibal's, his eyes bright gold as he shares them.

Sinric winged as Lucifer, perched on the chapel altar, tunic ruffled and drawn up to reveal one pale thigh. The shadows suggesting the heat of his sex. Inviting and inciting defilement.

He must have put too much behind it because in the other side of the room, Niketas shifts almost uncomfortably, his breathing quickens a pace.

[cook_the_rude]

Hannibal is shifting in his borrowed finery as well, feeling the surge of power from Sinric. "Both," he murmurs. "Both is good."

Submission, and the spreading of golden wings.

[thewidewideworld]

"The challenge is in balance." Sinric answer in Japanese. "And fluidity of self."

He takes Niketas' hand, changing back to Latin to guide the prince to lay back.

[cook_the_rude]

"Let us see to those tear ducts now," Hannibal says, putting down his empty tea cup.

[thewidewideworld]

Sinric resumes his place, holding Niketas' cheeks to keep them taut. "Tell us if you begin to feel the area around your eyes."

When he sings this time he offers distraction as well as sooth.

[cook_the_rude]

Hannibal opens up the eye again and starts dabbing at the opening of the tear duct.

[thewidewideworld]

Sinric's fingers stroke Niketas' wrist, gently humming to the sound of the music and drawing the prince slowly into a trance.

Refreshed now and feeling stronger, he has better control over his gifts, directing them with care.

[cook_the_rude]

Hannibal is using his magnifying glass and working very, very slowly.

[thewidewideworld]

Niketas is still and relaxed, bound under the spell of Sinric's voice. Sinric is careful to shield Hannibal, not wanting to distract him from his work. Work that seems to be going well, not that Sinric's any judge of these things.

[cook_the_rude]

The blood that well from the tear duct next is clear.

[thewidewideworld]

"It is going well." Sinric whispers to Niketas. "Hannibal is taking very good care of you. Your eye will hurt much less after this."

Niketas mumbles his thanks back, drifting on whatever vision Sinric has him wrapped in.

[cook_the_rude]

"You will weep tears now," Hannibal declares, "and the eye will no longer remain dry. Can you point to where the light comes from."

[thewidewideworld]

"At the moment, the roof of my father's palace." Niketas says dreamily.

Sinric gives an apologetic nod and eases back, drawing the prince into the present. "And now."

Niketas refocuses slowly and points to the window. "It is faint and blurred. I see no detail, but there is light."

[cook_the_rude]

"That is what I was hoping for," Hannibal says. "It may even become a tiny bit better with time, and regular use of the eye drops, but not much. As for your other eye, eye drops with painkillers, and if the pain doesn't get better, I'd suggest amputation. In my time, there would be a chance of corneal transplant, plus maybe artificial lenses for both eyes, restoring much of your actual eyesight, but unless the door lets you into Milliways and we declare it a miracle, simply managing the pain and being able to see dark figures in sunlight might be the best we can aim for."

[thewidewideworld]

"I would accept a miracle and gladly. But it would mean having to leave this life, this name behind."

Niketas turns his face to Sinric, squeezing his hand. "But I could not do that alone."

Sinric bites his lower lip, glad Niketas can't see the expression on his face, the reluctance and conflict. "Nobelissimos, I-"

Niketas holds a hand up to hush him, hearing it in his voice. "I had no right to ask it of you. Forgive me."

"I will stay with you." Sinric offers, "as long as I can."

Niketas pats his hand and Sinric turns away to blot tears from his own eyes with the sleeve of his tunic. "What should I do from here, Doctor?"

[cook_the_rude]

"Go forward," Hannibal says. "Treat your eyes with those drops, and keep the improvements secret at first."

[thewidewideworld]

"You might consider a pilgrimage?" Sinric suggests softly, bringing Hannibal the bowl of water to wash his hands. "Rome perhaps. Once you're healed and ready."

[cook_the_rude]

"Take Sinric to help you until you get there," Hannibal says. "By the time you reach it, you will know to find your way. Perhaps three or five of the young monks from here, too. The ones you get on best with."

The ones most likely to be punished by the abbot, that is.

[thewidewideworld]

Niketas nods slowly, considering. "Rome would be... a good change of pace. And there are a few young men here who were meant for more than this."

Sinric looks up at Hannibal, gratitude in his eyes. The path is righting itself.