There is a specific, sublime feeling that comes from looking at someone's hidden set of cards, announcing them, and then lighting those cards on fire. Metaphorically speaking. As someone without fighting of defensive abilities augmented, physically no better than a talented normal human, Hannibal has chosen to exemplify what was gifted to him - gathering information, and using knowledge to guide other people to useful places. And watching the tall, rude woman's face flatten and grow calmly cold is the sort of thrill you can't quite get any other way. Hannibal's lips only barely bend up in response to her smile - a gentle, unmistakably false gesture of good will, although his clear amusement is probably visible enough.
"If it bothers you, perhaps we can all disarm before we enter my home." 'Home', not 'house'. He feels Patricia's small hand spasm into his sweater's sleeve, and he adjusts the angle of his wrist so that he can loosely hold her hand - she could slide away with a pull, but he wants the family aspect of this to be a clear signal to the strangers. If they rescued Patricia because of something like duty or compassion, perhaps it will help everyone's attitudes. And if they pose a threat, then Hannibal does not mind asserting ownership and attachment as a warning. "But I was very concerned when I heard visitors had arrived, so soon after my daughter was kidnapped. I think precautions are something we can all find understandable, Danae." No point in saying 'adoptive' in the sentence, too clunky, too awkward - it's already how Triss is introduced to curious waiters and bank tellers, after all.
But then the shorter, stockier woman proves to be a very determined truce-organizer. Hannibal considers her, head tilted a few degrees, birdlike curiosity surprised into full focus. He evidently likes what he sees, though, because his smile turns a few degrees less glacial and he offers her his hand, as well. "Dr. Hannibal Lecter." He looks from her to the man. "And I have to agree. I'd be delighted to learn your names as well - inside." And he does indeed take a small step back, looking down as he does so.
The hand holding Patricia's had never let go, assuming hers hadn't, and he sticks that hand out in front a few more degrees so that he can allow her to walk in first.
He stands to the side of the door to watch everyone walk in after them, holding it ajar with the patience of a practiced host.
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timeasmymeasure
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Date: 2016-06-04 02:42 am (UTC)"If it bothers you, perhaps we can all disarm before we enter my home." 'Home', not 'house'. He feels Patricia's small hand spasm into his sweater's sleeve, and he adjusts the angle of his wrist so that he can loosely hold her hand - she could slide away with a pull, but he wants the family aspect of this to be a clear signal to the strangers. If they rescued Patricia because of something like duty or compassion, perhaps it will help everyone's attitudes. And if they pose a threat, then Hannibal does not mind asserting ownership and attachment as a warning. "But I was very concerned when I heard visitors had arrived, so soon after my daughter was kidnapped. I think precautions are something we can all find understandable, Danae." No point in saying 'adoptive' in the sentence, too clunky, too awkward - it's already how Triss is introduced to curious waiters and bank tellers, after all.
But then the shorter, stockier woman proves to be a very determined truce-organizer. Hannibal considers her, head tilted a few degrees, birdlike curiosity surprised into full focus. He evidently likes what he sees, though, because his smile turns a few degrees less glacial and he offers her his hand, as well. "Dr. Hannibal Lecter." He looks from her to the man. "And I have to agree. I'd be delighted to learn your names as well - inside." And he does indeed take a small step back, looking down as he does so.
The hand holding Patricia's had never let go, assuming hers hadn't, and he sticks that hand out in front a few more degrees so that he can allow her to walk in first.
He stands to the side of the door to watch everyone walk in after them, holding it ajar with the patience of a practiced host.