Note: Hello, fandom! It's been more than a year since I last posted a story. I have been a Hannibal fan for a long time but this is the first time I've tried to contribute fic. Teenage Mason/Margot, slight noncon elements. This is just my own interpretation based on their relationship in the TV show and has nothing to do with the books.

Margot sits alone at her table for lunch in the classroom. Everyone else ate at the cafeteria, but she chose to eat alone in this room. She took out the lunch box their family cook prepared for them, stainless steel and designed to keep food warm. She imagines a sumptuous beef steak, or something full of flowers and green leaves. She's so, so sick of eating pig. The utensils are wrapped around a white cloth napkin embroidered with their family crest in red silk thread. She opens the box and and finds it empty. Her hollow stomach grumbled, but good thing she was alone in the classroom. The other girls would've giggled at that.

She returns the useless container inside her bag. Her bag was hand-made, pure leather, something Mason once gave her. She imagines eating the bag, the dead skin of an animal once alive. Mason has been indirectly starving her – empty lunchboxes, trapping her alone in their big house away from the dining table, doing all kinds of little tricks that are guaranteed to make her suffer. She hasn't told anyone, out of pride and out of fear. Mason wants something, and she always doesn't know what it was.

She closes her eyes. She imagines she's on a horse, galloping and running, all the way out of their large estate, away, far away, from her brother.

Mason watches Margot through the window of her classroom. She doesn't see him, and he's in his usual spot where he can watch her without her knowing. She's closing her eyes, her back straight, as if she's praying. Her straight sable hair reached the seat of her chair. She's wearing the school uniform, a burgundy blazer, a black pleated short skirt, and black knee-high stockings. Her shoes are worn but expensive brown leather.

Margot stands up and leaves. Mason walks, knowing where she'll go.

On the hallway, Mason waits. Margot walks on the hallway and turns left, her eyes went wide when she sees him. He smirks at her. She glares at him with repressed rage. He smiles even more.

"Hungry?" he asks her. "Here, you can have mine."

He gives her his bag. Margot feels that this is another trick.

She sits on the floor as she eats everything. Its pork again, but in her hunger she doesn't mind. The sauces smell like heaven, but when she bites and swallows the meat she finds it

Rotten.

She runs to the bathroom and pukes. Mason's laughter echoed through the hallway.

Margot doesn't understand why he's even here. He wears the school uniform, yet it doesn't seem to matter if he goes to class or not. Their family's money helps this school run, after all. So if Mason decides to torture her here, she's got no one to turn to.

The car takes them home during sunset. Mason's smiling to himself, Margot keeping her silence once again. Mason allows her to dinner, and it's only the two of them on the wide, wooden table. Mason sits at where their father used to sit, while Margot just chose one of the many chairs and stuffed herself with food. As she leaves the table, Mason was drinking scotch. They're both barely seventeen. Mason probably thinks he looks cool and adult, but to Margot he just looks like a fool. Of course she doesn't say that out loud.

"Oh, Margot. Looks like I win again," he says. She doesn't answer. She doesn't want to give him the satisfaction.

Homecoming. Some cliché school celebration that Margot didn't really want to take part in, but a night free of Mason was a welcome one. Though, she already had a feeling that Mason has something up his sleeve again.

She rummages through her dead mother's old clothes in her untouched room. She finds a smooth, simple white gown with silk straps that reached just below her knees. She just imagines what kind of secret laughter this might illicit to the other girls there – Look at what that Verger girl's wearing. She plays around with the makeup in the drawer – paints her lids gold and outlines her eyes with kohl. She painted her lips pig-blood red and brushed her cheeks with purple-pink. She's still half-deciding whether to secretly leave or not. She could slip to the stables, take Florence, the silk-black pony and ride through the night in her bare feet… She gets out the back door to string fresh peach and pink roses into a neat crown to wear on her head.

Her costume was almost complete when someone emerged out of the darkness, Mason with a little black pig in his arms.

"Where are we going, Margot? About to escape and enjoy the party at school where no one knows you? I'm spending a night with this little guy over here, a better companion than you," Mason says.

"Enjoy the night together, then," Margot says, and proceeds to the stables.

Mason laughs. Just as she opens the door to where the horses are sleeping, blood from a bucket falls on her, coating her white gown red. She screams in horror and anguish when the severed head of Florence, the beautiful horse she loved, lay on the ground. Mason's laughter echoed, and she's covered in the hideous blood of the horse.

"You should watch that movie? Carrie? Pig's blood for a pig!" Mason laughed and laughed at his own joke. "You look better in red, Margot. Too bad the make-up's wasted. Didn't suit you anyway."

Margot doesn't scream. She reacted, and that's what Mason wants.

Sick and red, her body shook with rage. She had reached her limits. She runs across the woods, to nowhere.

"Hey, Margot!" Mason screams, but Margot was already running far away.

Nothing guides her as she runs, but the light of the full moon. The woods spanned acres wide, and their land was so vast she never knew or saw the edges of it. The trees, which might seem scary in some other night, was a comfort. It was useless to run, Mason will catch up or leave her in some way… blood and tears fell from her as she ran.

She stopped by a shallow stream. It would be easier now, to take that plunge and end everything…

She soaks herself. Washes her hair, her dress. She took the dress off to wash it and squeeze the blood on the water. She lies on the rocks naked and tired, and stares at the moon. She doesn't want to be a pig. She feels like a wolf. In a few brief moments, she was free of Mason.

The moon was low when Mason finally found her. His hair was a mess, and he sat down to rest from his effort. He stares at her body, illuminated by the moon. She recognized the hunger in his eyes.

"Mason, tell me, what exactly, do you want? You keep playing these games. You know it, I'm so sick of it," she tells him. He doesn't answer but just looks at her.

Mason kneels next to her and shamelessly touches her breasts. She didn't expect the shiver that ran through her spine. Mason caressed her stomach, and her reactions were involuntary – she arches her back. She lets him touch her. He has touched her this way, several times, in uncomfortable ways. Her body reacted, but she had no feeling left inside her.

"What I want?" Mason asks himself.

"What I want? I want you to stop being so bothered by outside things. I want you all to myself," Mason says, kissing her and Margot surprises him by kissing back. She saw his eyes widen, then close, taking her in.

"That. I want that," he says, and its Margot's turn to laugh and run.

He chases her through the woods again, a hunter seeking prey. Though Mason catches her in time, and it's here, within the forest, with only the light of the moon… Mason bit the back of her neck, and enters her without warning. He feels like an animal, making love like wolves do… indifferent to bloodlines or morals. He has touched Margot several times, but this is the first time she reacted like she wanted him to. He feels fully in control, of her. This place, this wilderness, was somehow perfect. Margot's hair still smelled like blood.

Inside Margot's mind, she has won this time.

Mason sits on the ground, tired and satisfied. Margot cut her palms on a sharp piece of rock, and Mason licks the blood.

Margot leans over his chest. "Mason, let's go home," she says, and to her surprise Mason picks her up and carries her like a bride.

"Your feet might get cut," he says. She presses kisses to his skin as they walk, relishing at his reactions. Now, she's the one making him react. They are both alone in the big house, and he proceeded to her room and drops her to the wide bed. He turns on the lamp, and laughs as Margot picked out the leaves from her hair and wipes the soil and dust with the blanket.

This was one delirious night, but it was only starting.

She lays back, watching Mason take off all his clothes and climb to her bed with her. She lay back, spread her legs, begs Mason with her eyes. He looks like a hungry man being offered a feast. He takes her, again and again, and her body welcomes his. Their soft moans blossom on the pillow, and the feel of him inside of her isn't strange – it feels strangely… right. They were young, with bodies burning with want, and the look in Mason's eyes was enough revenge for Margot. He tried to control her, but it was satisfying to find out that the control was in her hands, after all.

Mason releases himself from her, takes her hand, and places it on his thigh. He touches her instead, and Margot took it as a sign that he wants to be touched. They touch each other in secret, sensitive places, giving each other pleasure. Mason nuzzles against her neck, licks her ear and whispers to her – "Margot, I want you to be the mother of my heirs," he says, "but maybe when we get older. You'll make such a great mother."

"Yes, brother," Margot says, but its not sincere.

They both shudder as they come. Margot's hands were coated with Mason's, and his fingers were sticky with hers. Mason wipes it off her hands. He smells Margot's scent on his hands and licks it. "That's good. I'll eat you up next time."

They shared a shower, washing all the dirt and blood away. The twins sleep naked, snuggled together like wolf cubs in the snow.

Margot wakes in the middle of the night. Mason's peaceful face was lovely. It was so easy to take the revolver she kept under her bead and blast his brains off, or the blunt knife she was sharpening in the drawer.

Mason stirs in his sleep and senses that she's awake.

"Go to sleep, Margot," he says. He looks into her eyes and her lips. Margot kisses him and he grins. "Wanna do that again?" he asks, voice sounding sleepy.

"No. I'm tired. Some other time," she says.

"We have all the time in the world," he says, bites her neck playfully, and closes his eyes again.

"You really don't want me to have something else other than you," Margot says to the darkness.

Mason only pulls her closer.

Margot relishes at this small victory. She knew there will be bitterness, betrayal, and more games after this… but for now, she sleeps, and dreams of some other world…