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Brighid was sat on her bed flicking through her diary when she noticed her driver loitering in the doorway. Morág was staring at her without a clear purpose, completely unaware of what she was doing.
“Lady Morág, are you quite all right?”
“Ah, Brighid. I’m sorry. I went for a walk to think,”
Morág shuffled in to the Tantalese inn’s room and sat down on the single bed opposite Brighid so that though she avoided the blade’s gaze, their knees touched.
“What’s wrong, Lady Morág?”
“Ah. Um. That diary of yours,”
“Go on,”
“You left it on my bed this morning, so I put it back on yours.” The Special Inquisitor cleared her throat, briefly glancing up to meet Brighid’s questioning eye through her visor.
“I did leave in a hurry this morning. Is there a problem with me leaving it on your bed by mistake?”
“Well- no, not normally. But this time I accidentally read the page it was open on. By accident. And it said that you haven’t had a certain experience within your current memories-"
A pause. Now Brighid was averting her eyes. Her leg gave an involuntary twitch against Morág’s and she pressed her lips together. A blade and driver should be able to discuss anything, yet it just felt so awkward when her driver was also Morág Ladair, the most extraordinary woman she had ever met. She couldn’t pinpoint when she’d first fallen for Lady Morág, but there again was the familiar ache in her chest when she took the time to think about her driver.
Morág broke the silence.
“Well- I’ve not kissed either, Brighid,” She blurted out, her cheeks turning an unmistakable red beneath her visor as she moved her hand to rest on both her knee and Brighid’s. “And- I was wondering if you’d share that first memory with me?”
“Are you serious, Lady Morág?” Brighid asked gently, watching her driver nod. “Then here’s my answer.”
Brighid picked up Morág’s gloved hand up from her knee, stood up and sat down on the bed next to her Lady, angling her face up towards her.
“Ah, Brighid,” Morág whispered, her voice far softer than Brighid had heard it in years, as if she had unlearned the militaristic bark she usually spoke in, “I’ve thought about this for a long time. Close your eyes.”
Brighid obliged, feeling Morág’s spare hand rest against her face, and then her soft breaths fall onto her mouth. Morág was taking her sweet time and the moments felt painfully drawn out. The only thing she could think of to encourage her Lady to move in faster was to squeeze her hand between hers. A moment later, squawking in pain, she wished that she hadn’t. Their lips had made brief contact, but Morág’s visor had smashed into the bridge of her nose, leaving Brighid to yell in her love’s face. Morág immediately distanced herself from Brighid, dropping her hand and standing up.
“I owe you an apology, Brighid. I didn’t think,”
“You do owe me an apology. How does my nose look?”
“It’s beautiful,” Morág replied seriously.
Brighid failed to supress a smile at her Lady’s instant reaction. Her first memory of kissing would certainly make her laugh when she looked back at it. She only hoped she could relate it well enough in her diary that her future self would laugh when reading it too.
“I mean, does it look like you just whacked me in the nose with that piece of metal you keep on your hat?”
“It’s a little red. But I’m sorry, I shouldn’t try to do this. I’m foolish.”
“Sit down again, Lady Morág. You’re wonderful.” At her blade’s words, Morág opened her mouth to protest, but the blade covered her lips with her fingers. “Just shh, Lady Morág. Do you know why I was so desperate to experience a kiss in this cycle of my life? No? Well there’s someone in the army, a Special Inquisitor, one so daring, so beautiful, so compelling, she drives me crazy.”
The Special Inquisitor in question’s jaw hung open beneath Brighid’s fingers.
“Do you think we can try again?” The blade asked, tracing along her driver’s lower lip. Met with a nod, Brighid patted Morág on the shoulder. “I’ll just remove something that might get in the way.” Leaning in closely to her lady, she removed the hat, and more importantly, its pesky visor. “This is wonderful news for my nose. And it’s a treat to see you like this too, Lady Mórag,” she murmured, smoothing down strands of the other woman’s dark hair. “Now, where were we?”
Morág cleared her throat, leaning in once again. She placed a gentle kiss against the bridge of Brighid’s nose, watching as her radiant blade’s lips twitched into a smile. She’d planned to take it more slowly, kiss her forehead and cheeks first, but the object of her distraction was there and she just had to kiss her lips. Her agitation had mostly been soothed away, and Brighid didn’t scream in pain when their lips met, so she counted it a success and closed her eyes to linger in the feeling of Brighid’s unique warmth kissing back against her. Morág felt herself melting into Brighid, and wondered if her blade felt the same.
She supressed a grunt of frustration when Brighid pulled a few inches away from her to speak, so she spoke up first as Brighid steadied herself against her shoulders.
“Write about me in your diary, Brighid,”
“I do-”
“Write about how this feels. I don’t want this memory to be forgotten,”
“I promise to write about this when we’re done, if you promise to give me more to write about now,”
“I’d be happy to oblige.”
Mórag smirked. She was wonderfully surprised by Brighid’s flirtation with her, and amazed that she actually felt capable of flirting back. She ran her fingers through the blade’s hair, feeling a thrill as Brighid reached up to her bun to loosen her dark hair and play with it as well. She could get used to this close proximity.
“Your hair’s silky, Lady Mórag-”“Just Mórag will be fine, Brighid,”
“Very well, Mórag. I was going to say, I’m counting it a blessing I left my diary on your bed,”
“I wholly agree, but did you really need to say that while we were... I mean, I was enjoying that,”
“So was I.” Brighid took Mórag’s face in her hands. “So I won’t interrupt this time,”