Private Tales Dancing Claws

[Victoria O'Connor]

Victoria exhaled a long, nervous breath. She had been looking forward to today ever since that morning in the bath, when Fallon had asked her as bluntly as could be to marry her. No preamble, not pageantry, not even a question.

Marry me.

Victoria had played it over in her head countless times, and each time brought a flurry of joy, giddiness, and longing. She pictured the silver eyes now, upside-down in her lap, and held on to that image like an anchor in stormy seas.

Greyrock was far too busy. It had been decades since an event this grand had been planned and hosted. Victoria had spared no expense and had taken every opportunity to flaunt her wealth, status, and power. Now that the day had come, however, she wished it were just the two of them. As the preeminent authority in the region she could wed herself and Fallon. They could go to the seaside, or stand in the tall tower under the moon. She could even perform the ceremony in bed if she wished...

A gentle knock came at her chamber door and three slight women entered. "Are you ready, my Lady?" Victoria nodded and forced herself to rise from her bed. It had felt so cold last night without Fallon, a sensation Victoria had forgotten until meeting the wolf.

While gentle hands slid the silk nightgown from her porcelain body, Victoria reminded herself why all this extravagance was important. It was to show Fallon how much she meant. It was to show the world how much Fallon meant. It was to show everyone that their union would not be hidden, nor questioned. She felt a small crackle of violent energy at the thought of someone opposing their matrimony, and the image of Fallon disemboweling dissenters put her in a better mood.

 

[Fallon]

Fallon had never considered that she would one day be wed. Never as a child, nor through first loves had she ever had any such fantasy for herself. Ever devoted to rising in her ranks and, once those ranks could be climbed no more, her full dedication had always been to her pack. Her pack, who were still in the Spine, entirely oblivious to how she had abandoned them for a creature they were born to hunt.

Her quicksilver eyes stared out across the darkening sky as she allowed herself just a few minutes of the guilt that so often threatened to splinter her mind. Tonight however, wouldn't be a night for dwelling on the past. The course of her life had shifted in the most antithetical way possible, and as much as she pined for the family she had known, there was no amount of remorse that could make her conjure even a kernel of regret for where she was right now.

That the two should have been sworn enemies was engrained deeply in Fallon's nature, but deeper still was whatever force that caused her nothing but agony at the thought of being without Her. Fallon had forsaken everything she had known to dedicate her life to her Queen, and she knew that had it been her heart on a plate that Victoria had wanted, she'd have given it freely. It wasn't a bond she understood nor cared to, nor was it important who was hurt in the collision. All that mattered was Her.

Fallon's discomfort grew with every moment that passed without Victoria in her presence, like it was some biological need to know She was safe. She was close enough, she knew, for the discomfort had not become the dreaded ache that had gnawed at her whenever they ventured too far apart. Victoria was at home here, and there should have been little to worry about surrounding Her safety - but there were many who had not taken lightly to the insult that was Fallon's presence here, let alone her intention to wed their Mistress. Some had been more vocal about it than others, and those others had kept their opinions to themselves after examples had been made.

From the window, the wolf watched the flickering glow of carriage light as guests arrived one by one. Of course, Fallon knew none of them, but she understood Victoria's ways and tried not to let the thought of countless glares upon her back unnerve her. Not that Fallon was easily unnerved, but being a lone wolf in a coven of vampires had taken some metaphorical brass balls as it was, let alone inviting more in.

"Lady Fallon.. Are you ready?" a meek human girl who had helped arrange her hair into some semblance of order, asked from the doorway.

"I am." She was. The sharp points of her canines were visible as she smiled. All guilt for those far and mistrust for those near were discounted instantly, and Gods help any who dared set so much as a toe in her way.

 

[Victoria O'Connor]

Victoria’s dress had not been designed for comfort, but it was spectacular to look at. It was white at her shoulders but appeared as though it had been dipped in blood, becoming ever more reddened as the eye traced downwards to the nearly-black edges of her train. Detailed lace furled out at her shoulders and down her arms, a rigid corset held her torso with embroidered flower petals, and her skirts billowed to the floor so that she would appear to float forwards. It was beautiful, eerie, and even held meaning for the two women, though that would probably be lost on their audience.

Fallon and Victoria’s love had been steeped in blood, both literally and metaphorically. From their first encounter (and mutually attempted murder), to their visit with Victoria’s newfound relatives, blood had followed them. She could still smell it on her lips whenever she thought back to the huntress, the angry villagers, and most dangerously Fallon herself. There was a crackle on her tongue every time she remembered Fallon’s blood, and she tried to put it out of her mind.

“Are you alright, my Lady?” A soft voice broke her reverie, and Victoria realized that she had been breathing heavily and had acquired a soft flush.

”Yes,” she corrected quickly, fixing her face back to that of her station. ”Are you finished?”

“Just about, Mistress.”

Victoria quelled her stubborn heart but just enough so that it beat evenly. There would be no stopping it entirely today, for she could not forget that she was about to wed the most wonderful creature in the world.

In the castle entrance hall the guests had gathered and were being served by a host of caterers and other hired help, along with one curiously mobile oven. Greyrock had been rebuilt from ruin, but it had been centuries since it had needed to host such a gathering. The invite list had been unusually open, as Victoria had given in to the temptation to flaunt her bride to the world.

Fallon. Her bride. Another subtle flush to her face.

“Ready, my Lady.” The handmaid stepped back and Victoria turned to the long mirror at the end of the room. She saw only a floating gown, but the shape it suggested looked flattering enough. She hoped that Fallon would think so.

”Are the guests seated?”

“I can check, my Lady.”

”Seat them now.” Victoria ran her hands down the lacy ribs of the corset, feeling a cold confidence fill her. Today was her day, and she wanted to see Fallon now.

 

[Fallon]

Fallon had never worn anything quite so fine in her life, and the seamstress and handmaidens seemed to have rather enjoyed dressing her up for the occasion. She was a simple creature who had spent her life in the wilds, where leathers and furs were all that she had ever worn. The gown made for her now was silken, and she rather enjoyed the way it caressed her skin as she walked down the staircase to the foyer. Even in the depths of winter, Fallon enjoyed the feel of air on her skin and the ground under her feet, and so her arms and her back were bare, and against all insistence on propriety, her feet too, remained bare.

The ladies who accompanied her looked pleased with themselves as they made their final adjustments, and Fallon drew a slow breath as she watched the doors, waiting impatiently for them to be opened. She could hear the guests as they took their seats, the fusion of their various scents a confusing assault on her senses. She would not look at them. They were not here for her. They were here for Victoria, or for the gossip and scandal..

"Where is she?.." she murmured with the first knot of nerves in the pit of her stomach as she waited for the doors to open.

 

[Victoria O'Connor]

The center of the hall had been laid end to end with a plush red and gold carpet. At its center, backed by the rising eastern moon, were two thrones. One was well-known to the coven’s members - a dark and ornately carved chair of ebonwood, with sturdy arms and a straight back that ended in a tall pointed arch. It had been set with thick cushions of scarlet. The seat next to it was new, and the pale birchwood shimmered beneath the chandeliers. Its legs were formed as the roots of mighty trees which twisted into an elegant bark-etched seat and vined arms. The curving wood wrapped itself around a striking slab of moon-hued marble that served as the chair’s back, the top of which had been expertly chiseled to evoke a scene of mountains. It had been laid with cushions of pastel green and hues of leaves.

The ethereal strings that had filled the castle halls quieted, as did the conversation of the seated guests. An air of apprehension held for a moment, and then Fallon entered.

Elegant, powerful, beautiful. Even the most resistant to the women's union could not deny that Fallon was utterly entrancing. She was a living paradox, a wild and untamed creature wrapped in silk, at least this is how she appeared to Victoria, though the red vampire had not shown herself yet.

At the far end of the hall, opposite Fallon, a scarlet mist began to pool. It floated in from unseen crevices and coalesced into a rising swirl until it took the shape of a woman, blood-red and ghostly. Victoria's features hardened out of the fog and there she stood, tall and proud and fully stunned by her bride across the room.

It had been her idea of a grand entrance, and it had been adequately gaudy for an undead soiree, though its impact had been somewhat lessened when her prideful expression cracked into awe. She had not seen Fallon for a full night and day, and she had never seen the garou dressed like this.

The music resuming was the only thing to bring her out of her trance. While the strings sprang to life in a beautiful minor key, she moved down the carpet towards the thrones. She wanted to sprint, but she savored the anticipation of coming nearer and nearer to Fallon.

She couldn't speak when she reached the center, so she simply extended a pale, cold hand for Fallon to take. The music stopped.

~*~

A low murmur had taken some of the guests. Had Victoria not been so distracted by her partner she would have been satisfied with the activity. Whatever qualities Fallon had found in her to love, Victoria was suitably vain for her station. Talk, gossip, call it what you will - it was all attention.

Beautiful gowns... odd style

...No it's "gay-roo." Are they all that pretty?​

I hope this is quick, I want more of those pies...​

 

[Fallon]

Many gazes, narrow and wide. Many scents, gasps, whispers, but the room may as well have been entirely empty without Victoria's presence. For now, Fallon’s silver eyes settled upon the birch and marble chair that now sat beside that of the Mistress of Greyrock. Her chest tightened at the gesture and at the beauty of such a thing meant to represent her.

A familiar sensation, like cool fingertips spider-walking up her spine, coupled with the scent she'd grown so quickly ensnared by, drew her eyes to the saliently gathering pool of red mist. It was a sight that the Garou would once have witnessed with hatred, with fear and disgust. Now there was only relief, excitement... joy.

Fallon's stoic features relaxed before playing out the tumble of emotions she felt as the swirling red smoke solidified into the most beautiful creature she had ever seen. Her breath caught, and the sudden and extremely rare urge to cry took her by surprise. She suppressed it only just, but her quicksilver eyes glistened as she stared at her bride with unyielding adoration. Victoria looked stunning. She was, stunning.

She flinched at the soft sound of music and spared a wary glance over those in attendance, but her attention did not stray for long, and she mirrored the steps that her love took despite how tight her muscles had coiled with the urge to hurry.

Her smile was wide and she was unable to help but allow a quiet chuckle in adrenaline as they grew closer. Finally, she wasted not a moment in taking the offered hand in hers, a breath spilling free in alleviation. All of it felt dream-like, and her mind was hazy with the elation of it.

"I..." her breath caught as she looked over her, her head shaking and a sharp canine latching onto her lower lip for a brief moment. "You are incredible." she breathed with a gentle squeeze of the cool hand in hers.

 

[Victoria O'Connor]

The garou's touch was a lifeline in the hall. Cold eyes picked the two women apart in the hall. It was a familiar sensation to Victoria, a lingering itch as though a swarm of insects were needling at her skin. She had wanted the attention, but it was not an altogether pleasant feeling.

Yet the moment Fallon's fingers grazed hers a fire washed over Victoria, sweeping away the parasites and burning away everything in the room except for her bride. Her wonderful, powerful, valiant bride. Victoria smiled. This wasn't for anyone else but them. The event, the food, the music, the ceremony itself... just for them. Only them.

"Fallon," she started, and her voice penetrated the mind far greater than mere sound could allow. She wasn't entirely conscious of this effect, but she knew she needed everyone present to feel what she was saying.

"We met one another in violence. On cold peaks, beneath moonlit skies, we wanted each other's blood like it was an obsession. With every clash, every bite, we infected each other more and more, until we finally understood the truth: that what we wanted was each other - blood, bone, flesh, and heart.

"I," and here she faltered, the words catching in her throat as her eyes softened. "I don't know what I did to deserve you. It seems impossible that something so good, and pure, and perfect could be mine... but I will grab ahold of that impossibility and I will never, ever let go." Her eyes flashed with emotion, and she gripped Fallon’s hand harder.

 

[Fallon]

Fallon felt every word of Victoria's vow as though her voice were in her very blood, coursing through her veins. Silver eyes wandered the soft, snowy skin of her love's face and made themselves quite at home in the warm crimson of her gaze.

"Victoria..." she sighed with a curl of her lips. Speaking her name would never not send a ripple of excitement through her.

"From the moment our paths crossed my entire world was changed. From the moment I set eyes on you, my heart and soul were yours. You’ve surprised me, distracted me, captivated me, and challenged me in ways that I had not expected. I’ve fallen in love with you again and again countless times, without reservation.

You have saved me in so many ways, and I stand here today to say that I choose You, above all others and above all that I have known. I love you more than I had thought possible. Our story is complex, but I love you straightforwardly. Loving what I know of you, and trusting what I do not yet know. My home is with you, and I promise you nothing less than the rest of my life."

 

[Victoria O'Connor]

Victoria could hear the thunderous rhythm of Fallon’s heart, so loud that it was hard to think about anything else. She could feel its pulse through Fallon’s fingertips, and every beat sent a fresh wave of warmth rippling up her arms. She could smell the blood that it pumped, a smell that had become so familiar that she scarcely noticed it any more, until she had been forced apart from it. A day’s separation was enough to bring back the aroma’s intoxicating hold on her, and her eyes lingered on Fallon’s throbbing jugular.

The garou’s vows twisted through the air in beautiful braids of promises, but the ending was punctuated by a sharp, icy stab at Victoria’s heart. The rest of my life. The rest. The remainder. Finite.

Mortal.

Victoria blinked away the new feeling, the same as she had done every time before. There was still time to iron out that little problem, for now she would focus on things of true importance. She would be happy, truly happy, and everyone and everything else would have to choke on it.

She could not follow up with any greater words than Fallon had already given. The two of them had waited long enough, so Victoria began.

”I, Victoria Elise O’Connor, Lady-...” A pause, a subtle pull at the corner of her mouth. ...Queen of Greyrock and its territories, by my power, name you, Fallon, Alpha of the Garou, my wife.”

It felt like it happened so quickly. So much had lead to this, so much tension, excitement, bloodshed, planning, and chaos… and it was done with a sentence. Here they stood, at one moment lovers, the next wives. Bound first by love, now also by law. Once women.

Now Queens.

The air in the grand hall almost crackled with tension. The guests themselves didn’t seem sure what to make of this. The sudden announcement, Victoria’s impromptu self-promotion, the glaring taboo of their union itself. It was all quite a lot to fit into a single evening. Nevertheless, as Victoria pulled Fallon into a kiss, the crowd applauded.

It was a long and tender kiss, with lips of ice meeting fire, and feelings of happiness mixing with giddy terror. What had they done? What wonderful, calamitous thing had they done? Victoria wished to whisk Fallon away, to somehow consume her in mist and take her high into the castle towers. Alas, there was celebration to be had.

Victoria gently pulled away and gazed over her bride. If she could not have her alone just yet, she would make do with parading her glory to everyone present.

 

[Fallon]

The Garou's head tilted slightly as she noticed her Love's eyes lingering on her throat. A gentle tease with the faintest smirk of amusement. She had meant it when she had said that her life belonged to Victoria. Her soul was bound, and the very blood that ran in her veins was no longer her own. Her eyes heated, and she swallowed, sure the vampire would notice.

All undivided attention was on Victoria as she spoke, and the smile Fallon wore quickly turned into a grin that beamed with pride at her love's self proclaimed royalty. She had always been a queen, but Gods, hearing her say it caused her legs to weaken.

.."name you, Fallon, Alpha of the Garou, my wife.”

Unshed tears stung at her eyes. She let out a breath of a laugh, and her hands were in that crimson hair the second their lips met. Fallon would never have believed that this would be where she would find her belonging. Her home. She'd forgotten that there were guests here until they applauded, and she couldn't give a single fuck about the tension she felt from them. She would gladly slaughter every last one of them if it pleased her Queen. She was all that mattered now, and all that would ever matter.

Breaking their binding kiss, their noses grazed, and she let her eyes wander her wife with rapture as she stepped back. "You are always beautiful.. But, fuck." she sighed, and grinned, reaching to take her hand and turn rather smugly toward the many eyes and let them have their fill.

Vampire and Wolf.

Wife and Wife.

Queen and Queen.

Oh how they must hate her...

 

[Victoria O'Connor]

That little swallow and the rippling cords of Fallon's sinewy neck had sealed the Garou's fate for later this night, but for now Victoria turned along with her new wife to face the crowd. The guests applauded politely, many even daring to show genuine enthusiasm for the union. Of course, any vampires within this company would be at the very least indifferent to the whole thing. Dissenters had already been weeded out.

The music resumed in a celebratory sonata. Victoria took Fallon, her new wife, and lead her down the long carpet and out of the great hall. The indulgences of the entrance hall had already been refreshed so that the guests, shuffled back and forth, could be distracted while the banquet tables were set up.

The queens continued past this, however, and made their way through solitary halls to the castle's rear balcony - the large stone plaza that overlooked the steadily darkening sea. It took every shred of Victoria's restraint to not pin Fallon to the cold stone wall the moment they were out of sight, but she controlled herself until the wind of the sea hit both of their faces, and sent both of their gowns rippling behind them.

From here she greedily pulled Fallon into a much deeper, much more feral kiss. "I made sure we could be alone for a few moments," she said when their lips parted. "My... my wife," her voice caught unexpectedly, and she was surprised by the thin path of a tear down her face. She huffed a short laugh and flashed pristine white fangs in a bemused smile.

"I don't think I've ever been this happy."

 

[Fallon]

My Wife...

Fallon's heart swelled, her own eyes shimmering with unbridled joy. She reached out to gently wipe away Victoria's tear, her touch a tender reassurance of their forever bond.

"Nor have I." Fallon whispered, her voice filled with a depth of devotion that echoed across the expanse of the sea. "To be called your wife, to stand by your side..." she swallowed again, harder this time, her gaze lingering on her love's porcelain collar. The mark of their eternal bond. The urge to bite down rolled across her shoulders in a cold shudder, the desire to claim her, to sink her fangs into that vulnerable spot, pulsing through Fallon's being like a primal call. But she resisted, knowing that their love was far more profound than any physical manifestation. Still, her fingers tightened on her Queen's petite waist, and she turned to press her gently into the wall.

"Must we attend the rest?..." The wind carried Fallon's words, laced with a mix of desire and restraint, as she whispered against Victoria's lips. Her breath, warm and tinged with anticipation, caressed Victoria's skin. The crashing waves below provided an orchestral backdrop to their moment of raw vulnerability and unyielding passion. Her gaze locked with Victoria's, a tempestuous storm of love and hunger swirling within her depths.

 

[Victoria O'Connor]

Must we attend the rest?...

The hairs on the back of Victoria’s neck stood on end. She scarcely noticed the icy stone at her back, but she inhaled Fallon’s warm breath and felt it flood her. Her impetuous heart hammered a few lurching beats through her chest, spreading that warmth to her fingers and toes. She did not want to return to the reception now, she just wanted more heat from Fallon. It was the only fire she had ever desired.

Her eyelids fluttered as she painfully, horribly, stopped herself from melting under the Garou’s touch. ”We must,” she whispered with obvious displeasure. ”If they don’t see us, how will word of your beauty spread?” A forced tease to soften the torment of separating their bodies.

Tease or not, the newlyweds needed to make their proper appearances. Victoria could not let her coven think that she did not value their customs or culture. She could not let them know the truth: that all of them could die horrible, agonizing deaths if it would please Fallon.

Passion and love had driven Victoria to create spectacle. She had, of course, invited scandal. What she must avoid, was schism.

”Save it for the wedding bed,” she cooed, ”It will be sweeter for the waiting.”

 

[Fallon]

Fallon's lips curled into a mischievous smile as she playfully tugged at Victoria's waist, pulling her closer once again. She loved knowing that the heart in Victoria's chest beat for her.

"My sweet Temptress," Fallon whispered with a grin, her voice laced with a mixture of desire and amusement.
She leaned in, her lips grazing Victoria's ear, her voice a sultry breath against her skin. "Every stolen moment, every stolen touch, serves as a delicious prelude to the nights that lie ahead. And when the time finally comes, when we are alone in the embrace of our sanctuary, I'm going to devour you."

Fallon's words hung in the air, electrifying the space between them. She reveled in the dance of desire they shared, the delicate balance between restraint and surrender. Though the pull to remain lost in each other's touch was strong, Fallon understood that duty and etiquette beckoned them back to the reception.

With one last lingering touch, Fallon reluctantly released her hold on Victoria, allowing them to separate for only a moment before her hand found Victoria's, their fingers intertwining in a silent pledge. Their love, passionate and fierce, would transcend any obstacle that lay in their path and whatever might deign to tear them apart. Fallon would proudly slaughter every living thing in this world if she had to.

Side by side, they reentered the grand hall, their presence commanding attention, a testament to the strength of their union. Their love story would unfold before the eyes of their guests whether they agreed with it or not, and the world would bear witness to a love that defied conventions and expectations.

 

[Victoria O'Connor]

Fallon’s lips were so agonizingly close. Victoria’s face glittered with condensation where hot breath met her frozen cheek, and a tiny bead trickled down her face, igniting her skin along its path. She abruptly brought a hand to stop its descent at her jawline. If the impish droplet caressed her neck…

She died a little more at Fallon’s release, but a firm bite of her lip returned enough of her focus to take her wife’s hand and guide them back to the reception.

Their entrance was greeted with applause and cheers, a few voices quite a bit more enthusiastic that Victoria had expected. It was an unexpected relief to see so many faces of genuine happiness. Perhaps this union would not be as much of a battle as she had thought.

Almost as much, certainly, but maybe just a touch easier.

During their brief exodus the grand hall had been transformed. A fleet of round tables had been assembled and draped with fine linens. Gilded plates and goblets abounded, and servers fluttered about at once frantic and graceful. The scene sparkled beneath a pleasing glow, representing perhaps the evening’s greatest expense.

The hall was unusually well-lit, but the extra chandeliers and wall-sconces did not irritate Victoria’s dead eyes. Rather than searing yellow and orange, these flames burned a pleasing white-green. Coldfire, it had been called, and while its price had been exorbitant, even for a Queen, Victoria was glad of it. She would be able to enjoy this evening in comfort, and have no distractions aside from the skin displayed by Fallon’s dress.

They were greeted by everyone, in endless sequence, in what ranges from overly reverent bows to boisterous blessings of love and prosperity. A particularly portly vampire woman had extolled the joys of marriage. “I’ve had seven husbands, that should tell you how much I believe it!”

Evelyn and her daughters had been invited, although Victoria was not surprised by their absence. Meeting one’s great, great, etcetera aunt as a vampire would be rather jarring. Still, it seemed rather childish to hold that grudge after this long, especially when they could be discussing their family history. Even if Evelyn was a vapid bitch, she had somehow acquired valuable knowledge.

When at last they made it to their thrones a personal table had been set before them. Fallon’s place had been set with heaping plates of venison, roasted rabbit, and a whole pheasant. No less than three goblets had been laid before her, filled generously with wine, cider, and crystal-clear water. Victoria’s place had a large and fiendishly ornate goblet at its center, steaming with dark, rich blood. Despite its enticing aroma, she did not did not partake of it, and subtly moved it aside.

“Perhaps something fresher, my Queen?” A lilting voice to her side asked. It belonged to one of the hired servers, a human girl with straw-colored hair and rosy cheeks, who offered a bare forearm.

”No,” Victoria answered politely, waving the young woman away. She turned her head to Fallon and did not hide the ravenous hunger from her eyes. ”I am saving my appetite for something far more satisfying.”

 

[Fallon]

A long breath tumbled free as Fallon finally settled into her new throne beside that of her wife, now far more comfortable to observe the gathering, rather than being amongst it. The Garou were generally elusive, and she had never done well in crowds as it was let alone crowds that included creatures that drove her instincts to the brink.

Her gaze scanned over the selection of meats and drinks laid out for her, before settling on the goblet intended for Victoria. The flash of jealousy for whatever poor human had donated such a meal was cut short by Victoria's dismissal of it, but the smug satisfaction Fallon wore on her face was even more fleeting as a girl appeared to offer her arm.

Quicksilver eyes settled on the pretty young face with a look that warned of a slow death. That she would willingly murder an innocent, human girl because Fallon wanted to be the one under the mouth of a vampire queen, was a lot to unpack.. But in the moment all she felt was a fury so real that her skin burned hot to the touch, and the wolf writhed viciously beneath her skin.

'No.'

Fallon's glare lingered a moment longer before it turned to Victoria and turned molten. Everything had turned molten. The Garou growled and bared a sharp fang of her own in a dimpled smirk. Twice in a matter of seconds, Victoria had denied what she needed for her, and Fallon swooned.

"That's right.." she rumbled, her back straightening and shoulders rolling against the strain in her bunched muscles. "The only thing My Queen will be tasting tonight, is me." she smiled.

 

[Victoria O'Connor]

Beneath the table, Victoria’s fingers burned where they rested on Fallon’s thigh. The raging heat thawed her blood so quickly that it hurt, boiling beneath her skin, but she did not pull away. That painful fury was for her. The wolf clawed to be free for her, and so when she felt the steel cords of Fallon’s muscles ripple and writhe, she pressed her fingers harder against the flesh.

She bit her lip against the fire. She let it roll free from her fang before breaking eye contact with Fallon. She did finally look away to survey the crowd and make her obligatory niceties when guests did approach, but she never removed her hand from Fallon’s thigh, not once, though it did wander subtly to and fro.

After all had time for a hearty meal the floating strings started up again. A large section of the hall had been cleared of all furniture. Victoria turned back to Fallon and whispered so only she could hear:

”Would you like to dance, my wolf? If not, say the word and I’ll let these fools take to the floor themselves and leave us be.”

There was no great yearning nor request in Victoria’s eyes. If Fallon wished to dance she would of course revel in swaying and spinning with her wife. All the same, if Fallon preferred to let others go ahead, Victoria was content to stay by her side. Whatever her choice, the newlyweds would be alone soon enough.

 

[Fallon]

Fallon tried her best to keep her senses at bay. When every sound and scent was heightened, it was easy to be overwhelmed by a crowded room - especially one filled with scents that she had always felt an almost equal amount of hatred and fear of.
The scents of her own kind had always been of a comfort to her, and as she let her silver gaze drift from face to face, she quietly wondered how long it would be before she forgot those smells. Before she forgot everything.

As full and as happy as her heart was, she felt the dull ache that came with the thought of them now. She wished that her family could have been here to celebrate her marriage and share in her joy, but they would never understand.

Victoria's cool thumb brushed the skin of her thigh and Fallon's eyes closed with a small smile on her lips. She was her comfort now. She was her everything, and the ache in her heart vanished as it swelled with love and pride.

"Hm?.." she asked, her eyes fluttering open as she turned to gaze at her wife, wondering how she had ever allowed her eyes to leave the redhead for long enough to take in anything else.

'My wolf.' Fallon smiled brightly.

In every way possible, my love...

"I am not sure that I can dance, but I will certainly try." she answered, collecting Victoria's hand from where it played idly on her thigh. A path parted for the pair as they made their way onto the floor, and those who had occupied it stepped off to the side.

Fallon's hand squeezed gently at Victoria's cold palm as she turned to face her in the centre of the room, a rare flicker of shyness crossing her features as she smiled expectantly at her. She really was the most beautiful creature she'd ever laid eyes upon.

 

[Victoria O'Connor]

Victoria’s heart beat out a rhythm of anticipation. Through all of their adventures, the couple had never danced together. Whenever their bodies had been this close previously, other activities had taken precedence. Here, though, was the guiding leash of protocol and ceremony.

Fallon’s figure reflected in Victoria’s eyes, and the vampire was moonstruck all over again. Her powerful warrior, her fearless protector… how soft her face was now. How coy and, dare she say, bashful her bride had become. It must have taken a great deal of courage for her to parade herself before these creatures. Victoria felt her vacant lungs fill with pride and gratitude.

She guided Fallon’s left hand to rest atop her right shoulder, and held Fallon’s right hand gently aloft. She pressed her palm to the small of Fallon’s back, and pulled her close.

She could feel Fallon’s heartbeat on her chest, and she took a slow, deep draw through her nose. Fallon smelled of deep woods and valor… but tonight the tang of her blood cut through more sharply. Victoria’s eyes flashed with predatory intent for just a second before she smiled sweetly.

”Follow me.”

She took a step forwards, keeping her posture rigid so that Fallon was gently pushed in the right direction. A step to the side, and Fallon was pulled along with her. A step back, then to the other side, then forwards.

Vampire and Garou turned about the dark wood floor while the ghostly strings played on.

 

[Fallon]

The world around them blurred into insignificance as the dance began. Fallon's movements were tentative at first, but as Victoria guided her through the steps, a natural rhythm emerged.

The pair glided across the dance floor as if they had been dancing together for a lifetime. Her body responded effortlessly to Victoria's lead and amidst the graceful movements, Fallon's silver gaze wandered over her wife's face, capturing every perfect feature, every nuance of expression. Her eyes continued to drift down the smooth slope of her neck to her collar, where she had already left her mark on her. The warmth in her skin intensified, and she couldn't help but marvel at the woman who held her so close.

As the dance unfolded, Fallon's grip tightened subtly, and she couldn't resist asking, her voice a quiet rumble amidst the music, "Am I... doing alright?" Her gaze briefly shifted down to their feet, a touch of vulnerability in her eyes.

 

[Victoria O'Connor]

It was… lovely. The pair had never danced before, they had always been too busy fighting, fleeing, or… focusing on other comforts. Though they had been at Greyrock several weeks now, it had not felt long at all. Time with Fallon seemed to flow effortlessly. Paradoxically, Victoria felt like she had known the wolf for her entire life. In reality it had been less than a year. Less than a year since she had taken her carriage into the Spine’s treacherous reaches, since she had been stranded in the alpine forest. Since she had been attacked and hunted by a gargantuan wolf. And now they were dancing.

Victoria felt Fallon’s eyes on her collarbone, the same one her massive jaws had bitten through on one of their first meetings. There were no signs of the damage now, but Victoria remembered the pain with an odd fondness.

”Am I… doing alright?”

Victoria smiled a genuinely sweet smile. It was rare for her teeth to show without some tinge of malice, superiority, or lust, but she felt none of that now. She felt a warm, almost flowing happiness dancing with Fallon.

”You are doing wonderfully.”

She did not look away from Fallon’s eyes, not once during their dance. While time flowed strangely close to the Garou, she could hear the song winding down. With gentle yet firm motions, Victoria swept her left hand, clasped in Fallon’s right, across their chests. With a delicate lift, she guided Fallon through a gentle spin that set her snowy dress swirling. At the circle’s end, she placed Fallon’s hand on the back of her icy neck, and winked a single ruby eye before taking Fallon behind the shoulders and waist and dipping her low to the floor.

She pressed her lips to her bride’s, blissfully ignorant of the applause surrounding them. The hand on Fallon’s waist groped more firmly at the taught muscle, and Victoria leaned her face next to Fallon’s ear and whispered.

”I need to take you away from here before I fully lose control.” There was a nervous tremor in Victoria’s voice. She was so hungry, and the blood rushing through Fallon’s ear was so close. If she just took a tiny nip… just the tip of those fragile points…

Victoria lifted Fallon back to her feet and let the applause draw her back to reality.

 

[Fallon]

Victoria's assurance washed away any lingering doubt. The affirmation in her voice carried a warmth that matched the gentle glow of the room. It wasn't just a comment on the dance; it was an acknowledgment of their connection, a recognition of Fallon's presence in Victoria's life.

As the music approached its end, Victoria guided Fallon through a graceful spin, the shimmering fabric of Fallon's dress swirling around them. The movements were effortless, a testament to the unspoken understanding between them. When Fallon's hand rested on the back of Victoria's neck, the vampire's wink hinted at the playfulness beneath her usually composed exterior.

The dip that followed was executed with elegance, and as Victoria pressed her lips to hers, Fallon grinned against the kiss, the move eliciting a soft, playful growl in response. The whisper that followed however, sent a shudder racing across her back, and the wolf writhed under her skin at the hint of nervousness in Victoria's voice.

As Fallon was lifted back to her feet, reality rushed back in with the applause that surrounded them.
She couldn't help but smile at the hungry look in Victoria's gaze, her own eyes filled with both love and understanding as she gently clasped her Lady's chin. "Lead the way, my Wife. I'm all yours."

They moved away from the dance floor, leaving behind the echoes of their enchanting dance, ready to explore the next chapter of their night.

 

[Victoria O'Connor]

Victoria’s heart had been beating continuously throughout their dance. Fluttering at first, it had settled into a contented metronome as they turned about the floor. It now rose to a feverish pace, pounding so hard she thought it may break free of her ribs.

She wondered if Fallon could hear it within her breast or feel it through her fingertips. Could the wolf’s nose detect the filling capillaries of her face and chest?

Fallon’s own heartbeat had been all too audible. Victoria had grown so used to its presence that it was usually a soothing backdrop, but as their dance concluded it was a hammering drum in her ears. She could feel every minute change in pressure through her wife’s blazing palms. The scent was maddening.

Victoria’s lips parted as Fallon teased her jawline. Her fangs itched in her mouth, and her tongue suddenly felt so horribly dry. A tortured squirm rippled through her core.

Perhaps fasting ahead of time had not been wise. She shut her lips tight against the intruding flavors. If she tasted even a drop of Fallon’s blood within this hall… most of their guests would not survive.

Elegantly, but with more urgency in her steps now, Victoria lead Fallon from the hall and into the grand foyer. The large, heavy doors shut behind them and drowned out the last lingering applause.

Victoria turned to Fallon and tried to smile, though it may have looked more like a snarl given how taught her neck now felt. She could not keep her eyes from wandering, and every angle of Fallon’s body added fuel to the fire building inside of her.

“Your Highnesses,” came a low and pleasing voice. Mephistopheles, spymaster and chief of the evening’s security, bowed deeply to the women. He was a tall, lean, and handsome man with night-black hair just a shade lighter than his eyes.

“Is the carriage ready?” Victoria asked with unbidden sharpness.

“Of course,” he replied, gesturing to the doors.

 

[Fallon]

The heavy doors sealed off the sounds of the hall, and Fallon sensed a change in the air, an undercurrent of urgency that mirrored the quickened pace of Victoria's heart. The lingering applause from their dance faded into the background, replaced by the hushed whispers of the grand foyer.

Victoria's attempt at a smile held a tension that didn't escape Fallon's notice. The predatory hunger in her eyes, the subtle shift in her demeanor – all spoke of a struggle that Fallon had come to recognise intimately. The wolf within her sensed the primal turmoil in her vampire wife, and it writhed in response.

"Vic--" she reached for her wife's face and paused at the approach of another.

"Your Highnesses," Mephistopheles' voice cut through the charged atmosphere, and Fallon seemed slightly taken aback to be addressed as such. Still, she acknowledged him with a nod, her gaze flickering briefly to the spymaster.

Fallon's silver eyes remained fixed on Victoria as the two spoke, observing the unspoken dynamics between the spymaster and her Queen. The sharpness in Victoria's tone, the urgency in her question, all served to raise Fallon's alertness.

"You've deprived yourself too long..." Fallon stated softly, her voice a gentle murmur meant for Victoria's ears alone. The grand foyer, usually a space of elegance and composure, now crackled with tension. She squeezed firmly at the hand housed in hers, guiding her down the steps to the awaiting carriage.

"Where are we going, exactly?.." she asked, her brow furrowed.

 

[Victoria O'Connor]

Victoria swallowed. A dry, strained motion against the prickling in her throat. Fallon was right, she had underestimated the toll this evening would take on her. Projecting calm control was her forte, but she had been positively buzzing all evening. She was elated to be with Fallon, to dance with her, to parade her like the wild statement she was. She was taxed with the nervous energy of one hosting her own wedding. Were her guests enjoying themselves? How many would sell her out or came just for spectacle? The mental wear had eaten away at her fortitude beneath the surface.

"Somewhere private. Just for us." She smiled, but there was still a tight twitch in her cheek, and her skin was oh so pale.

She allowed herself to be lead, hand in hand with her new wife, to the carriage. Though it was almost entirely black, it still somehow managed to be an ostentatious display of wealth and luxury. Every inch of its ebony body had been carved into sweeping patterns and intricate depictions of noble structures and beasts. The windows had their velvet drapes pulled back, for there was no sunshine to blot out, and plush scarlet cushions beckoned from within. The horses themselves, four black mares, had been brushed to a shine and stood silent, waiting obediently for their command.

Mephistopheles opened the door for the queens, and Victoria stepped in. The soft seats were welcome after hours on the hard (albeit stately) thrones. Some of her senses seemed to be amplified by her hunger. Though her mind had a slight haze at the edges, she was acutely aware of an ache in her feet, and a pit in her stomach.

It would have been wise to sit across from her wife, to admire her from a safe distance while they were spirited away to their retreat. For good measure she should clap a hand over her mouth and nose to block out that wonderful scent and keep her fangs from leaping to eagerly.

She did none of this.

Victoria pulled Fallon into her lap before the carriage door was even closed and kissed her with a predatory fierceness. "Control me," she whispered while her lips grazed Fallon's and a breath shuddered through her core. "Until we arrive. I can't trust myself with you when I'm like this."

It had been a strain to speak the words, for her base instincts wanted nothing more than to kiss and bite and drink. A dark, wicked thing writhed beneath Victoria's skin, longing to test that garou strength.

As if sensing the urgency within the carriage, or perhaps solely in the interest of their own survival, the black mares set the carriage rolling with a lurch.