For Naniko. SSWM: 553

Fiachra laid in a quiet corner of the caves she now called home, twisting her rosary around in her hand. She had been napping like this, sprawled out on her back, paws propped against a wall of the cave. Now, she was barely what anyone would call awake, but not asleep anymore. Her eyes were closed as she played out a dream she had been having. The pictures swam across her eyelids and she smiled. She had been having nightmares every single time she slept since those monsters had done as they pleased with her, and she was glad for some peace. Anathema was the best thing that had happened to her in a long time, it felt like. She had not been away from home so long, but it felt like forever. No, she told herself. That isn't home anymore. This is home. This will be home for a very, very long time. Maybe permanently. She liked the idea. A place to call home forever. What a glorious idea.

She thought about the events of the past few days. Itachi and his childlike behaviour, his desperation to impress Naniko. A lot of analyzing had told her that the boy felt more for his leader than simple trust and respect. And Naniko.. the queen. She was, as Itachi seemed to have gathered, exquisite. Fiachra wasn't sure how she felt about her alphess quite yet, but she shared blood with her now, and there was no turning back. She hoped that the lady wolf would like her, if not respect her, but this pack seemed quite full of others who were much like her.. scarred, paranoid, fucked up. Damaged creatures banding together. And she was one of them, damaged, unable to heal completely. Fiachra had once been told that time heals all wounds, but she felt now that there was a serious mistake in that piece of advice, because no time could heal the wounds she had acquired since leaving home.

And yet, she had no regrets. She regretted nothing about her travels, because it had opened her eyes. She held no resentment, no malice toward those who had done her wrong.. okay, that was a lie. She would kill them and eat their insides if she ever saw a single one of them again. But the reason for that had more to do with revenge and self satisfaction in knowing that she had overpowered those who had caused her so much pain. And yet.. pain had woken her up from her dreamy little fantasy land in which everyone was nice and meant well and nobody would ever hurt each other. Not that she had ever really lived in that world.. but she had been born after the time that Kitten, the alpha of the pack opposing her father's, had eaten his own brother as a puppy. That was not her world, not her reality. Now, the myths seemed real. Killing, maiming, raping, ravaging.. these things were real. She knew this now.

No regrets. She was here now, so she had damn well make the best of it. She would enjoy her new home, her new packmates... and the memory of blood and stinging and beauty which was the dream that swam across her vision. She did not sleep this time, but dreamt nonetheless.

SSWM: 496

The sound of Naniko's voice yanked Fiachra so hard out of her reverie, she nearly jumped. Opening her eyes, she quickly turned her face away from her leader, covering her eyes with her hand for a brief moment as a show of respect. It was something that her old pack had done, to hide one's eyes briefly in the presence of a revered leader or respected warrior, and she did it without thinking, without even realizing what she was doing. Instinct. She had so many instincts that she had yet to learn to shake. She was not sure of what the correct showing of respect in upright shift was here, so she hastened to explain. "I mean to honour you by my gesture, ma'am." She would explain further if asked. The origin, from legends, was that her fellows had turned their faces and hid their eyes from their Gods, for they were too incredible to lay eyes upon, and so the gesture reminded them of the high status of a leader or warrior above their pack, for they had earned the greatest honours among the Gods. Naniko, surely, was worthy of this gesture.

She sat up slowly, her mind in a rush. Had she not been thinking of Naniko before her appearance? Speak of the devil, and the devil shall appear, she remembered. Did dreaming do the same? She could not erase the white queen from her memory, and she was yet unclear as to why the woman haunted her so. Those piercing green eyes, perhaps they could even see so far as Fiachra's soul... Fiachra blinked away the momentary rush of thought, sitting up properly and folding her legs in front of her indian style. She could not be thinking this was in the presence of her queen; no, certainly not. Not only because it was awkward and less than appropriate, but also because perhaps the queen could see the thoughts within her head, and she would rather not share these ones. It was too much, too soon, and she simply could not take it.

She had realized that her alphess would not likely recognize the gesture as respect, despite any explanation, and bowed her head deeply instead. She wished to be clear that she honoured and respected her leader, even when within her own space. "How do you do?" she asked, her voice quiet and easy as she got up from the floor, pulled out the two hand-crafted stools from the table she had made between her acceptance into the pack and this meeting - in fact, she had made them shortly before meeting Scorpius, Naniko's own son - and offered one to her queen, standing near it with her head inclined slightly. She could not and would not sit unless Naniko did. She added to her first statement, casually, "Will you have a drink, dear lady?" She still had some of the alcohol she had brewed, and what better way to use it?

The idea behind the alcohol is something like absinthe, for reference. SSWM: 583.

Her slip into the customs of her old pack only appeared to bother her queen momentarily, and they both recovered quickly and settled down. Once Naniko had taken a seat, Fiachra moved to the crate at the other side of her small den, nearest her makeshift bed, and pulled out two glasses and a bottle of the brew that she had concocted. It was strong and vaguely greenish, and the fragrance was somewhat harsh when the bottle was uncorked. Her uncle had taught this brew to her, and she had improved upon it slightly since then. Her secret was that she added the honey while it was still distilling, rather than as an afterthought. The sweetness soaked in and turned the green perhaps a little more of a greenish golden tone, but the flavour was much improved, and Fiachra enjoyed the taste immensely. She was not an alcoholic, but.. damn near.

In reply to the white queen's inquiries, she spoke kindly, honestly, and yet carefully, maintaining a healthy level of respect between them. "No, ma'am, I was only daydreaming. It is an honour to have your presence here." She couldn't help but to smile. It was beyond an honour, simply bliss. But she could not speak those words, or even think those thoughts. Instead, she backtracked to another comment made by her queen, and replied to it. "Our customs were very specific. I am trying to learn yours - and now, mine - to replace them." It was true; she wanted to fit in here. She wanted to be a part of things. She knew that it would take time, but she longed to skip the learning phase and jump right into being one of them, one of these people with whom she lived, whom she called packmates. Soon enough, her wish would be reality. She would be one of them.

She brought the bottle and glasses to the table and laid them down gently. As she uncorked the bottle to serve them, she answered more questions. "I am not sure what this is called. It is a liquor.. my uncle called it la fée verte. He said it means 'the green fairy,' although I'm not clear on why, except that the original brew is green - mine is a little more golden, but it tastes better this way. My local legend has it that this recipe was passed down for a very long time before us." She poured slowly, carefully, gentle with the highly potent drink - if she spilt it, her room would never cease to smell like alcohol, and she did not wish for that.

She corked the bottle, setting it to the far side of the small table, so that it would not be knocked over, and set the first-poured glass in front of Naniko. "Here you are, ma'am. I do hope you will enjoy it." She realized then that she had been asked yet another question, and hastened to answer it quickly. "I am adjusting well, thank you. It is cozy here.. I have been making myself at home. I hope that it's okay..." Her anxiety was clear in her voice, and she longed to drink, but knew that it would be highly impolite and disrespectful to do so. Instead, she lifted her glass slightly and said in a quiet, mildly shaky toast, "To your health, my lady. May you persevere through any tribulation laid to your path, and may they be few and far between."

SSWM: 456.

Fiachra laughed softly. Before the daydreaming, she had been sleeping.. a rare occurrence indeed. "No, I'm afraid that I don't often sleep well either," she replied, her voice thoughtful. There had been a time that sleep had come easily to her. Before they had taken her, before she had become what she now was. Now, things were different. Her sleep was plagued with nightmares, dark things that she could not bear to tell Naniko of. No, her snow white queen was the only pleasant break in the nightmares; daydreaming of her was the only breath of fresh air allowed to the young girl these days.

To the second comment, she shrugged slightly, nodding her head in unsure agreement. "I'm not the same as I was when I left my old home," she said in an almost-whisper. "But I will heed your advice. Perhaps I started there for a good reason after all." After all, it had never been being there that was so bad. It wasn't, truly. But it was boring, it was restless. And she was a princess there, a princess who was spoilt, who knew nothing of the world and, really, nothing of herself either. She would be welcomed back, should she ever wish to go, but she did not wish any such thing. She wished only to stay here, infinitely.. perhaps with her snow white queen.

She drank as an echo of Naniko the first time, waiting to see the woman's reaction before sipping her own. The sweet burn of honey and liquor soothed her senses, and it was scarcely any time at all before Fiachra could feel herself loosening up, breathing easier. "Yes, the Golden Fairy indeed," she breathed, her words a bit more casual now. "I much prefer it to its green counterpart. It's sweeter." Perhaps she ought not drink this in the presence of her queen, for she might slip and do something wrong, but the thought was too little, too late. She was already here, and already relaxed enough to dismiss the thought as foolishness. Her eyes and her mind both fixated on the white lady in front of her, and she smiled a bit broader now. What a lovely night this was panning out to be.

Poison? Before she could stop herself, she was asking the question. "Why are they tipped with poison? Do you often need such measures?" She usually could have kicked herself for speaking so hastily, but she was just relaxed enough to figure that Naniko might get sick of being treated like the queen she was.. much as Fiachra had grown tired of being treated only as a princess. Still, she added softly, "It's no business of mine, if you don't wish to tell."

i can't escape the twisted way you think of me

SSWM: 751.

i feel you in my dreams and i don't sleep

The words Naniko spoke were music to Fiachra's ears. A merry time. Fiachra herself was having better than a merry time; this was very nearly a dream come true. Her snow white queen fascinated her, left her wanting more. She had never felt what she felt now, but it wasn't unpleasant. It was, in fact, among the most pleasant, if not unnerving, sensations that she had ever encountered. The first glimpse of her queen had left her breathless; this second encounter was more like having her stomach twisted in knots on top of it. But it was somehow not dismaying to feel so out of sorts. Probably the alcohol. Her vision was blurring as she, too, poured a second glass. She could hold her liquor, but this stuff was strong. Very strong. Maybe even too strong to be drinking it with her queen. But it was far too late for that now. Drunk, she was.

Fiachra laughed softly as she listened to Naniko's explanation for her poison daggers. "I won't tell, my lady," she replied, her voice nearly a whisper. She tried to speak normally as she continued her thought. "A lover, eh. I'm the same way. But if I put poison on this - her voice was staying just above a whisper as she pulled her rosary out from under her shirt and held it up - I would end up dead. I play with it too much. She held out her hand, which was marked with one clean cut, a product of mixing blood with Naniko, and many deep scratches. They had a salve over them, and were healing nicely, but it was clear that they were mostly fresh. "One of those.. the clean one.. that's from you. The rest are from playing with this." She held the rosary up in her other hand and smiled wryly. "Nervous habit," she explained. She couldn't raise her voice. What was wrong with her?

It occurred to her that her queen had not pronounced her name correctly. Gently and passively, she said to the lady, "My name is Fiachra. Fee-AH-ker-ah. You may call me Fia, if you like. Most people do. My name is difficult." Her parents had been insane when they'd named her. She was named after a saint - Saint Fiacre, or Saint Fiachra in Irish. He had been male, but the name was fitting enough for both genders. She didn't usually mind her name, except at times like these, where she had to awkwardly explain how to pronounce her name. She smiled a little and sipped her drink, watching Naniko closely. She could not, for the life of her, pull her gaze away from her queen. She closed her eyes. That worked. She opened them again, and her gaze fixated itself right back to Naniko. Dear God.

Before she could stop herself, words rose from her throat. "You are very pretty, my lady," she whispered, almost inaudibly. She was glad for how quiet her voice was now, hoping that she went unheard. Christ, she was drunk. Her vision slipped and slid, and she leaned on the table for support. How she wished to simply lay down.. but not in the presence of her snow white queen. If only.. 'No!' her mind snapped as she imagined, half against her will, curling up with Naniko and talking until they slept. 'Don't think of these things,' her mind chastised. 'It won't happen. You will only be disappointed, let down. She is your queen, not your lover.' Her stomach turned. She took another sip. What was this feeling, this longing? As her vision swayed, her queen sat, as beautiful as ever, and Fiachra found that, in that moment, she could not look away. She never wanted to look away.

Something occurred to her, and in typical drunk fashion, it spilled from her lips quickly and without thinking. "My lady.. have you a mate?" It was really none of her business, and apology swept over her features as she gritted her teeth. What was she thinking? 'You are being terrible tonight,' she thought to herself angrily. 'Why can you not just hold your tongue?' She would have to do something. Play it cool, keep it casual. Make it clear that she had not asked for interest's sake, but merely as conversation. She sipped her drink as her mind laughed at her. 'She knows, pet,' it taunted her gleefully. 'She knows, and you will still never have her.'

Wow, you wrote a lot in that last one! I’m proud of you!! Also, added a mature marker onto this thread because of the alcohol use and some language. wc: 751.

The pure wolf’s vision was starting to blur a little bit. The lighting didn’t help, casting long and twisting shadows across the floor and handmade table. She observed these shadows with a slight frown upon her muzzle, turning her head to the side. She wanted to guess which shadow came from which object. There was a large, blocky shadow on the ground…that was from the bed! And the bottle left a tall and straight shadow. The legs of the table were a little twisty in her eyes and she scooted back a bit to have a look at the table’s structure. Nope, they were straight. Or were they? No, they were, she decided. Must have been her eyes playing tricks on her and making her think that the shadows were more twisty than they actually were! How silly.

The way that Fiachra was addressing her pleased her. It was a stroke to her already large ego to be called “my lady”. It reminded her of a book that she had read that had been centered around medieval human times. Back then it had been commonplace for a member of the nobility or royalty to be called “my lady” or “my lord”, but she had rarely heard it used in these times. Her attention was next caught by the rosary that the Furcas held. Naniko could see it glinting in the slight light that entered the place but couldn’t make out any fine details due to the flickering of the fire. She hadn’t noticed Fiachra wearing the necklace before but would look out for it now that she knew it was there. As the female held out her hand Naniko could see the small cuts and scars that it had caused.

”Yes…you’d want to pick something that you don’t play with often. A weapon that you keep on you, but not too close to you. I have my poison-tipped daggers in metal sheaths so they won’t get me…the other is kept more out in the open.” She had thought about getting a sword or something of the like, but such things were rare to find and no one in the cult pack had owned one. If they had, she would have likely stolen it before she and her family had left that pack, just as she had stolen the daggers that she wore. ”You should choose something less sharp to nervously clutch onto” She advised, looking away from Fia’s palm and to the bottle once more. It was nearly gone; when had that happened?

”You’re drunk.” She said to Fiachra’s next words. Everyone looked prettier when someone had been drinking, she had discovered. She hadn’t known the new pack member long enough to know much of her history or anything about her sexual orientation, so it was a bold move for the female to have said such a thing to her. Still, there was alcohol involved and she wouldn’t take it too seriously. Nani was big for a wolf and even bigger as a luperci, towering over most that she stood next to. She was used to being called large, tall, or bulky, but beautiful wasn’t a word that often came out toward her. In the cult pack from which she and her family had come she had participated in one of the pack’s many sessions of group sex and had found a willing partner, but being chosen for a purely sexual purpose hadn’t made her feel beautiful. It had felt good physically, though, to participate in those acts.

Next came a question about whether she had a mate, and she nearly choked on her drink. Their conversation had turned serious rather quickly, and she wasn’t sure if she liked the change or not. Should she divulge that sort of information to Fiachra without demanding an explanation for the question itself? For what reason would she need to know whether Naniko had a mate or not? She was perhaps wondering about the rest of the leadership? ”Azalea is my co-leader, but not my mate. Just a close friend.” She and the black female had an odd friendship, but they somehow managed to get along. ”I’ve had two mates in the past, a murderer and a back-stabber, and don’t plan on taking a third.” Jade eyes came up to meet the oceanic color of her grayscale packmate’s. ”Did you leave someone behind when you left your home?” Some romantic interest or mate, herself? It was an eye for an eye with these questions.

i can't escape the twisted way you think of me

Thanks! <3 SSWM: 733.

i feel you in my dreams and i don't sleep

The way Fiachra addressed her queen was natural to her. It was the way that things had been done where she had come from. There, even she had been 'my lady' to her pack, whereas her mother was usually 'your majesty'. She supposed she had been brought up rather differently than those around here, but she didn't really notice it very often. She had not heard many others address Naniko, so she was not aware of what anyone else referred to her as, only what was naturally for her to refer to the snow white queen as. As natural as hiding her eyes in respect, a practice that she was actually rather fond of. Her queen had all but given her permission to continue that tradition, and so she would, because it was comfortable for her. It made this place feel more like home, to keep some of her old customs. Just because she had not wanted to stay living with her family, did not mean she did not love them dearly. She certainly did. Always.

Fiachra laughed, very nearly bitterly. The words of her queen stung; what weapons? "I have no weapons, my lady," she said softly, almost sadly. She held up her rosary again. "I sharpened this with my sharpener for my carving knife, so that I might defend myself. I suppose my carving knife could be considered a weapon, but it is very dear to me. It was my daddy's before me." It occurred to her that she was talking a lot, and she hushed. It wasn't long before she was called to speak again, however. "I should. But I always played with this before I sharpened it. It's a hard habit to break. I don't mind the pain, really.." That was in understatement. She had grown to love it, in a horrifying way. She flipped the crucifix around in her hand slowly and smiled. Perhaps she loved it too much. Perhaps.. but she couldn't stop it.

The statement her queen made next, Fiachra thought, was rather obvious. "My lady, I am no more drunk than you are." She glanced at the bottle and laughed softly, finishing the cup she was on. "There was enough in that to get six people hammered, and then some. I should hope that I am drunk!" She didn't mind using all of her alcohol on this; her snow white queen was well worth it. She could always make more; there was some started currently, in fact. Perhaps they would do this more often now, if she could get Naniko hooked. Her tolerance for the sweet golden liquid was higher, due to drinking it far too often, but she was beyond drunk. She pushed her mane away from her face and laughed softly. It was a shame that Naniko thought that Fiachra would have to be drunk to find her beautiful. The words were out of her mouth nearly before she'd finished thinking them. "I thought you were pretty before I was drunk, my lady." She froze. Open mouth, insert.. whatever would fit to shut her up, really. Where was this coming from? She had never been so forward in her life.

She knew she'd struck a nerve with the next question, but she was, after all, drunk. She thought about the question asked of her and winced. She had never had a mate, not even an interest. Mating had been for grown-ups, and now that she was one, did she even want a mate? "You make having a mate sound rather unfortunate," she said dryly, pouring herself a bit more to drink. She sipped thoughtfully, then told her queen the truth. "I've never had a mate, my lady. Never even been.. ehm, with anyone.." - she spoke with a sharpness to her tone on that word, her jaw tightening a little - "..or at least, not by my own choice." She was bordering on disrespectful in the way that her tone warned against questions on this topic, daring her queen to press.

Shame washed over her, even as intoxicated as she was, and she winced. She lowered her eyes, covering them briefly. "I'm sorry, my lady. I ought not have spoken that way to you. That was out of turn." Her worry was obvious, and she searched Naniko's blurred face for a negative reaction, praying that she'd not angered her queen too much now.

LOTS of powerplay! Let me know if I should change something. <3 SSWM: 1091 (jfc).

Naniko's words took her off-guard, and she simply stared for a few moments. Fiachra had never been asked such a direct question, not especially such a sexual one. While she formulated an answer, or attempted to at least, she watched the snow white queen knock the bottle off of the... wait, what? The bottle crashed off of the table and shattered. "Oh, fuck! My lady, watch out!" she tried to warn, but it was too late. Everything was moving in slow motion as Naniko knelt down, slicing herself open. Fiachra jumped up, carefully darting in and grabbing the bleeding queen, leading her out of the mess of glass and to the bed. "Stay here. Trust me," she demanded gently, sitting her queen down on the bed. She had never given a leader an order before, but she knew this was urgent. Clumsily, and slicing herself a few times as she went, she swept up the blood stained glass, pushing it into the furthest corner along with the broom. She would clean it up later. No time for that now. She needed to care for her queen, and she needed to do so now.

She grabbed her medic bag from beside the bed, placing it near Naniko and kneeling down in front of her queen. Using tweezers, albeit very slowly and clumsily, she removed the glass from her queen's wounds. As she did so, she spoke in a soothing voice. "It's all right, my lady.. very minor. This shouldn't hurt, if you're half as drunk as I am." Not the absolute best thing to say, but adrenaline could only do so much for being plastered like she was. She had sobered off in the chaos only enough to not do too much more damage when removing the glass from Naniko's wounds, but her hands shook, and she occasionally muttered something incomprehensible to herself. Her surroundings were still swaying and twisting, and she tried desperately to ignore them. As she fought to remove the last shard of glass, she turned to the table, shouting at it, "Please stop moving, Fedora! You are so distracting!" Even she was unclear, the moment afterward, why she had addressed her table using her sister's name. It had made sense at the time... ah, well.

All of the glass removed, Fiachra doused the wounds with alcohol. Again, she spoke soothingly, knowing Naniko would be able to feel the sting, if not in a very dull way, and hoping to keep her calm. "I just need to wash this out... so it doesn't get infu.. infra.. infected." The word stuck on her tongue and she fought to spit it out, winning at last. She took out a new bottle of absinthe and opened it, then laid her queen down on the bed and held her head up gently. "Take a big sip, my lady. I need to stitch this. Believe it or not, 'cause of the adray.. adurr.. uhm, 'cause we got scared, you're not drunk enough anymore." Her speech slurred and faltered a bit, and she wondered if she should really be taking a needle to her queen's skin. However, the cut on the knee would come open if Naniko moved, even if bandaged, and stitches would minimize the scars anyhow.

She helped Naniko take a few sips of the Golden Fairy, as it had been so aptly named, and then corked the bottle and put it away, hoping to avoid another mishap like this one. Then she soothed her queen as best as she knew how, humming softly as she rubbed a mild anesthetic onto the wound. Between the drunkeness and the anesthesia, Naniko ought not feel much. Then she threaded a needle with her special medical thread and slowly, carefully stitched the wound closed. Her vision doubled, then tripled as she did so, and she stabbed herself in the hand with the needle to snap herself out of it. Her pain cleared her mind for moments at a time, and after a while, the stitching was complete. Fiachra tied a knot in the thread, her hands trembling with effort and intoxication. Then she applied a healing salve and wrapped a linen bandage around the knee, tying that off as well. "Just rest," she whispered softly. "Almost finished..."

Now for the hands. She had sterilized those already, but she needed to examine them. No need for stitches or even bandages on those, which had only shallow scrapes. She applied the same salve to them, hoping to help them heal faster. This was of her own making, from plants and ingredients she had procured back home. Now, in the winter, it would be impossible to make more, but she had plenty. She finished and sighed, then realized for the first time that she had managed to get glass lodged in her foot. She had scarcely noticed any pain, but no wonder she had been able to stay so clear-minded - a relative term, truly - this entire time! She removed the glass, wincing with pain, and examined the cut. Not too deep. No need to stitch it. She poured her medical alcohol over it, gasping and gritting her teeth as stinging shot through the wound. It passed, and a feeling of intense pleasure followed. She glanced at Naniko, then poured a little more, repeating the experience. Her head flooded with powerful happiness, or something like it. Mm, pain...

No time for that now. She applied healing salve to her foot, then put her medic bag away. She sneaked a few sips of absinthe from the new bottle she'd given to Naniko for her stitching - this had sobered her off far too much, the room was scarcely spinning - and then slipped into bed with her queen and laid close enough for her to close the distance, if she so desired. The bed wasn't very big to begin with. She gazed at her queen with softness in her icy blue eyes, softness that almost brought them back to their original sky-blue. Almost.

She smiled slightly as she leaned down and whispered. "How are you feeling, my lady?" Her voice was weak as she was flooded with a mixture of emotions - desire, concern, adoration, more desire. Her mind was now replaying the moments leading up to this one, and the words Naniko had spoken rang clear in her mind. Oh, dear God, what was she doing? It didn't matter anymore. Tonight was so far beyond her control... best to just give up and enjoy it while it lasted.

SSWM: 352.

The irony of Naniko's attempt to find the right word had not escaped Fiachra. It came back to her as she laid next to her queen, making her heart race. Infatuated. Yes, that was right. Fiachra was infatuated with Naniko. The reality was startling, but it was soon lost in the wave of drunken thoughts coursing through her mind. Her snow white queen was coming around, waking up, speaking to her. She reached out, pulled back.. reached again. Her fingers brushed against Naniko's cheek. She pulled back again, sense coming back to her. She fought her urges. This wasn't okay. What sort of trouble would she get herself into if she let herself continue this way?

She was quiet for a long moment after Naniko's voice stopped. Her own startled her, the sound soft and trembling. "You're fine, my lady. I put you here myself, and yes, you slept. You needed to be lying down to be stitched." She pointed to the bandages. "I stitched you up myself.. you'll be okay. The bandages will keep the wounds clean and help them heal." Obvious, obvious.. why was she talking? Just stop. But she didn't. She kept talking, and it felt like forever that she carried on. "My head's a bit funny, yep, it's the fairy! You like it? We won't remember this tomorrow, no ma'am!" The alcohol was talking again; with the crisis averted, she was now back to being thoroughly plastered. It was pleasant to say the least though. She liked being drunk.

Especially lying next to Naniko... oh, yes, especially...

'Stop that!' her mind yelled. 'She is your ALPHA!' She cringed. Her fingers had found their way to Naniko's mane, and she pulled back almost too quickly to be natural. "I'm sorry, my lady.." she whispered, her voice nearly a whimper. She didn't want to be in trouble with Naniko, she didn't want to make this awkward, but she wanted to touch.. just once more, and once more... oh, she could die for this, and die happy. But was it worth the price she might pay for her recklessness?

SSWM: 325.

Fiachra smiled softly, her eyes fixated on Naniko's form. She could feel where this was leading, where her queen was leading her, so why was she resisting? She let go of her inhibitions, one by one, as her mind's protests faded from screams to whispers to nothing. She let Naniko place her hand, her breath coming short and ragged now as her desires took a firm root and tugged on her to do more. She ran her fingers through the other woman's mane, whispering softly as she did, "No.. it's beautiful. Leave it.." Her fingers wove and tangled themselves deeper into the waves of hair, Fiachra's eyes locked on those of her snow white queen, ignoring all rules of conduct and respect now.

Before she realized what she was doing, she had moved closer, slipped her free arm around Naniko's waist, her eyes not blinking, her breath coming in shallow gasps now. She tugged her intoxicated leader closer to her, lowering her head to nuzzle into her neck gently. "You won't remember this at all," she whispered at last, her mind racing. Should she back off? Not take advantage? No, she had asked for this, with her actions, with her eyes... it was all willing, it was all consented to, even if neither of them was particularly in any state to be giving consent at the moment. There was nothing wrong with this.. nothing wrong...

A flicker of fear entered Fiachra's mind as she remembered her past, the only other time she had ever been so close to another. But that had been different.. forced.. this didn't feel forced, didn't feel painful or violent or wrong. In fact, nothing had ever felt so right. Fiachra closed her eyes and took a deep breath. She would go wherever Naniko would go, she would follow her anywhere, give her anything. And if this was what her snow white queen wished for, then she would have exactly this.