❄ Compulsory || WILL ❄
To be frank, he doesn’t mind early rising in the name of accomplishing something positive. Not to mention less sleep means less acknowledging the haunting images which depict his waking subconscious as something significantly less stable than what he possessed a year or so ago. And realistically, he was never stable to begin with. Alana Bloom had concluded that with enough bias, so fighting the notion is tougher than any fights he’s capable of. Limits are variables he knows all too well - has memorized like patterns over unwanted flesh. As well as Will Graham can describe it, he is a skeleton with skin already sold. The devil’s taken so much, his form that of a very ‘together’ man with an interest in forging friendship.
What he hates most is that he can comprehend why it is that this could have ever been a possibility - that Hannibal believe(d) Will to be capable of murders so intricate that they could go hand in hand. Or, well, fork in fork as they treaded forth into the fray of trust ablaze. These thoughts scatter his head (which is already swimming, no doubt about it) as he sits at the dining room table, limbs loose though his hands fold neatly.
He’s been anticipating the voice that interjects his ever-morbid musings.
It’s softer than he expects, though it matches the name he’s politely committed to memory. There’s not much of a point to pacing before he closes a bit of distance between them, making himself known with a few steps to ease towards her. She’s elegant - unmistakably so - in the way that she carries herself, an air of reluctance practically dragging throughout her tone of voice.
Naturally, he understands; this scenario is nothing to immediately drink in. Its overwhelming nature is enough to sicken the stomach and leave it churning for hours. Fortunately enough, he’s already gone through with that. "Elsa, correct? I’m here," speaking softly, though clearly enough, he blinks rapidly at the floor. A tad more comfort doesn’t allow him to raise his eyes just yet.
”It’s a pleasure to finally meet you.” This much, he can muster.
And perhaps a small smile wouldn’t hurt, though he doesn’t extend a hand. Some don’t like to be touched - he’ll let her determine where they stand in that regard. "I’m Will. Uh, Will Graham."
There's relief that washes over the young woman and had she not been trained throughout her childhood to always have such perfect posture she is sure this would be a moment in which her shoulders would slump. However, there will be no hunching on her part no matter how calm she is by such a soft voice answering the question that previously left parted lips. His soothing tone is enough to peel her away from her previous spot near the front door and draw her forward to officially meet him and take sight of the physical form of her spouse. The word still leaves a bad taste in her mouth but for now it may be ignored as she allows the smallest of smiles to grace her lips.
Neither of them seem thrilled to be in the position thrust upon them but it seems neither person has interest in forming any type of rebellion, either. No, this situation is necessary and as much as she doesn't like it, Elsa can accept it. Whatever is best for the people must be done. She knows that better than nearly anyone. Finally realizing her prolonged silence that has followed his introduction, a moment to clear her throat is taken before she clasps her hands together in front of her and gives a short bow in greeting.
"It's a pleasure to meet you as well, Will." Is she allowed to call him that? Before she can fret over it, the blonde offers her own name with a nod. "Yes, I'm Elsa, the former queen of a place called Arendelle." Just the mention of the name brings back a painful bout of homesickness so the queen finds herself briefly scrambling for something else to say. Truthfully, it would be nice to have her sister around for meetings like these. Anna always knew-- as ironic as it may be-- how to break the ice. HAW HAW.
Looking off to the side for a moment, Elsa interlocks her fingers together tightly before finally facing the male once more. "You mentioned beforehand that you wanted to go fishing, right?" Hesitance follows the question before she gently opens her arms to reveal her dress to the male-- the same dress that had once been worn for her coronation.
"While I'm not entirely against the idea, I'm afraid I don't have anything appropriate to wear..." Fishing is a sport she has only ever heard of and never taken part in but she's willing to do nearly anything that will keep the two of them busy and preoccupied. The less talking that takes place, the better. That is her current mind-set.