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The first time Mor noticed the blush was when she helped Elain plant new herbs for the garden. At first, she chalked it up to her feeling shy and embarrassed for needing help with something she usually excelled at.
The second time she noticed the blush was when Elain stumbled in on her and Feyre talking about some very graphic encounters and Mor’s retelling of a particularly successful night at Rita’s.
When she noticed the blush the third time, they were alone. And Mor had just complimented Elain on her pretty pink dress. It was far less daring than anything Mor wore, but it complimented Elain quite nicely.
That’s when Mor started to suspect that there was more to the blushing than just shyness.
And that she quite enjoyed seeing Elain flushed and torn between peeking up at her from beneath long lashes and trying to avoid Mor’s gaze.
She truly was a beauty. And if Mor’s company elicited a reaction like that, Mor wasn’t opposed to that. No, not at all.
So, when she asked Elain if she wanted to have dinner. Alone. Just the two of them. And Elain said yes, Mor decided that she wouldn’t ignore the butterflies in her stomach whenever she saw that pink flush on Elain’s cheeks.
They ate dinner at a lovely restaurant by the river. The food was delicious, the place covered in flowers that made Elain’s eyes go wide and flitter from one display to another. She hadn’t stopped smiling all night.
And once they were done, both of them content with the food and sweet summer wine, Mor suggested walking along the riverside and enjoying the warm evening.
Elain had agreed quite eagerly.
It was the way her knuckles kept brushing Mor’s as they walked that made her reach out and take Elain’s soft hands into hers. She was hesitant at first, looking up at Mor with a shy smile but then curling her fingers surely around hers.
And as they walked along the river, holding hands and smiling softly, Elain confessed, “I’m quite confused about this.”
Mor’s smile turned gentle as she remembered herself, aged sixteen and in a place where she wasn’t granted the luxury to be excited about this strange new feeling in her stomach.
“It’s alright, Elain.” She said, squeezing her hand. “We can take our time.”
But like the true Archeron she was, Elain surprised her when she stopped walking and tugged at Mor’s hand. Her soft brown eyes were wide and yet filled with a determination. “I don’t want to take my time. I-” She seemed to look for the right words, even as she was blushing again. “I want to- I want you to-”
Mor’s heart skipped a beat, looking at this young, beautiful woman, who had loved and lost and still, was ready to try again. And she thought, that despite everything that made them different, there was so much that they had in common.
So, Mor lifted her other hand, gently cupping Elain’s cheek and leaned down to press a whisper of a kiss to her lips.
“Oh,” Elain gasped, her whole body curving into Mor’s. Mor couldn’t help but smile, even as she pressed her forehead to Elain’s and kept her eyes closed for a moment longer, breathing in the flowery scent that always clung to her.
“Is this what you want, Elain?” She breathed, opening her eyes to find Elain’s already on her.
“Yes.” She breathed and it was Elain who surged up to kiss Mor then.
Not as sweet or as soft as their first kiss had been, but still more sweet than the summer wine they drank before.