I won't trust Snowtygrrr until I've met the Dragon Lady. This came as something of a shock to me, this realization... that despite the fact that I'm actually looking forward to meeting him, despite the fact that he is one of a VERY few people who can get me out of bed without pissing me off, that I still don't -quite- trust him.

And that once I've met the Dragon Lady, I will... if she is who and what I think she is.

Now you're all looking at me funny and scratching your heads... see, the Dragon Lady, she is his property. His chosen. He's not said as much but I've heard the way his voice changes when he talks about her, heard the way her name, little mentions of her, slip into every conversation.

She is to him what Kadin is to me... what he was before we found that equal ground and talked of love... what he could be, if he were only here.

And if I meet her, if she and I can find ourselves friends rather than enemies, if she shows me (not tells me, words lie) that he is what he claims to be, what I need him to be... then I can and will trust him.

Completely.

But on her word only.

Funny, isn't it? I mean, she's not what you would consider an unbiased source... and I know that whether he means to or not, he'll have put pressure on her to like me, to get along with me. That won't matter, when we meet... we'll be women. We ARE women. She will look me over, and I will look her over, and for just a minute he will be nothing but an afterthought, as we size each other up.

She'll be beautiful. And she will think, in some odd corner of her mind, that although I am not pretty I am beautiful also... and that settled, we will look for the little revealing things that only another woman would notice. The little hints.

I'll admire her bruises. She will realize that I have none... and feel sorry for me, just for a split second, and then envy me, for a second more, and then...

...then, we'll get down to business.

It will sound like polite conversation - it always does. It will look harmless and innocent - it always seems that way.

Two females, whether queens or slavegirls, cats or mice, free, bound, rich, poor... when they meet, there is always that moment of placing, of identification.

With us, it will be... intense.

She knows what is resting on it, as do I.

I hope she is a friend.

I am... frightened... of what will happen if I have her for an enemy. *wry grin* And VERY few things really frighten me.