A Prelude to a Kiss

It was only after the patio door closed behind the two sisters that Fiona allowed herself the luxury of leaning against the wall and closing her eyes. She took small shallow breaths trying to ease the pain in her chest that breathing caused.

Morganna frowned and moved to support her. “Sister?”

Fiona nodded. “I will be fine. I’ll heal; it will just take a little longer. Lucie’s dagger went a little deeper than I had thought.”

“Lean on me, and we’ll get you upstairs,” Morganna told her, as she put her sister’s arm around her shoulder.

The two of them started toward the stairs, and Morganna couldn’t help but point out the obvious. “I notice that you didn’t let Jon see that you were more hurt than he thought.”

“The stupid man was willing to sacrifice the World for me, Anna. I can’t let him know that...,” she stopped herself before she said too much.

But, it was too late. Morganna understood. She nodded as they gingerly started up the stairs. “I not only understand, Sister, but am also in total agreement with you.”

Having to take one step at a time, Fiona steered them up the stairs, Morganna allowing her to set the pace. After several steps, Fiona said softly, “I understand now why you were willing to sacrifice yourself for Accolon.”

Morganna smiled sadly. “You’ve fallen in love with your charge, haven’t you, Sister?”

A few more steps. “When he smiles at me, it’s as if my whole inside lists slightly to the left and my brain turns to mush, making my words stumble over themselves trying to flee the destruction. And my heart! The Maker help me, that smile makes my heart do the strangest thing. At first it stops completely, then it speeds up as if it can’t make up it’s mind which rhythm it prefers.”

Morganna remained silent as the continued up the stairs, but she nodded at her sister’s words. She knew all too well those feelings, and how your body seemed to have a mind of it’s own.

“And when he touches me,” Fiona smiled and a sigh escaped her as she took the next step, “it’s almost as if the whole world stops turning and everything stands still, as if all of creation is holding it’s breath with me.” They reached the top of the stairs and turned down the hall. “Is this what love feels like?”

A sigh escaped Morganna’s lips. “Ah yes. I remember it all too well.”

They reached Jon’s room, and Fiona steered them toward his bathroom. “I wouldn’t say ‘remember’ is the word exactly. That implies that the experience is in the past, and I noticed you getting all starry eyed and moon-faced when Richie entered the tomb.” When Morganna dropped her head with a slow smile stretching her lips, Fiona ignored the flush in her sister’s face and added, “Even a little distracted,” she stressed the last word with a frown. She turned then to lean against the counter, and Morganna turned on the water.

Slowly, Fiona began to unbutton her blouse so that she could see just how bad the wound in her chest was. Morganna grabbed a wash cloth and soaked it under the stream of water, squeezed it out, then handed it to her sister.

Fiona took the cloth then gently began to wash away the blood on her chest and abdomen. The wound had begun to close, but was taking longer than normal because it had been inflicted with a silver blade.

Morganna picked up the conversation where her sister had left off. “His bravery and selflessness appealed to me.” She could be honest with herself and admit the feeling that had been inspired was far bigger than simply appeal, but she wouldn’t admit it out loud to her sister. At least not yet.

Fiona was fully aware that Morganna’s feelings ran way deeper, but chose to let her keep it to herself at least for now. With a smile and a shrug, Fiona changed the subject. “You seem to be moving a lot better than me. Your wounds are not severe?” She began to re-button her blouse.

“No, Lucie’s minions will have to work a little harder to get to me.”

“And they will,” a male voice filled the room, then a vision of Merlin filled the vanity mirror over the sink. “The two of you must remain cautious. Your brother hates to lose; he will come at you next time with much more force.” He frowned in concern when he noticed the blood on the cloth in Fiona’s hand. “How is your wound, little one?”

“Healing.” Fiona fidgeted under Merlin’s scrutiny, obviously uncomfortable with his expression of caring. “Have you come with a new riddle then, Merlin,” there was no anger or Irish in her voice.

“No, just a reminder,” he answered softly, sadness creeping into his voice. “I am well aware of your feelings for your charges, do not bother to deny them. I have only come to remind you what must happen when they have completed their task.”

Fiona shook her head in denial. “I don’t think that will be necessary. Jon and Richie have kept what they call ‘brotherhood secrets’ for years. They would never tell anyone what we are or that we exist.”

“We cannot take that chance,” Merlin argued.

“No,” Morganna gasped softly. “I’m sure Fiona is correct. They are very loyal to each other.”

“Humans can suspect we exist, even imagine what we look like, but they can not know that we are fact. You must use the memory dust and remove their memories of you,” his voice became stern. “No arguments. The Council has decided.” With that, he disappeared from the mirror.

“The Council has decided,” Fiona mimicked, in that age old childish way, making a goofy face to go with it.

Morganna sniffled, fighting tears. “I don’t think I can lose him again.”

Fiona sounded quite calm and blase, there wasn’t even a hint of Irish in her voice. “I have no intention of losing Jon.”

Violet eyes were sad. “Oh Fee, how would we hide from the Council?”

“I’ve kept many a secret from them. They are not omniscient; they only like to pretend they are,” Fiona was very matter-of-fact.

Morganna allowed herself the luxury of pretending. “Would you marry Jon in the human way?”

Fiona smiled. “Maybe, if he asked. He hasn’t said that he loved me.”

Morganna scoffed. “The man was willing to risk the fate of the world for you, Fee. Of course, he loves you.”

“Perhaps,” her smile widened, “what of you and Richie?”

Morganna smiled, but began an intense study of her shoes. “He has certainly impressed me. And he knows and believes now that he is Accolon."

“And, has he said anything of his feelings?”

“Not so much with words,” Morganna answered, thinking of the intense burning looks and the gentle caresses.

Both were silent as they both cherished not only memories but a daydream of possibilities. Then Morganna straightened her shoulders and said the one thing out loud that would remind them both why the what if’s could never be. “But, Accolon betrayed me, and I’m sure in the end, so would Richie.” Quickly, she swiped at her cheeks and turned to hurry from the room.

When the door flung open, Richie jumped back, slightly embarrassed at having been caught eavesdropping on the sisters. Morganna drew up short but not fast enough to avoid colliding with him. As Richie’s arms instinctively closed around her, his breath caught in his throat. She was angry and by God, she was beautiful. Something in the back of his mind, a memory that was his but not quite his, pushed to the surface.

“Accolon didn’t betray you,” Richie said quietly.

“I know that to be a falsehood,” Morganna said, shoving Richie away from her and swiping at a tear of frustration that leaked from her right eye. She pushed past him and stalked up the hall to an empty bedroom. She remembered the simpering voices of those silly females in the garden, boasting of their consummation with Accolon, and was shaking her head when Richie followed her into the room. “And you can not possibly know anything about it.” She began pacing circles around the room, trying to regain her composure. “How long were you listening at the keyhole?”

Richie shook his head. “I only overheard a little, and I won’t say I’m sorry. You think I will betray you because HE betrayed you, but I’m not him. I don’t know how this would work, between a fairy and a, well, regular person, but I would NEVER betray you.” He closed the door and watched her move. “And I do know about what you were led to believe was betrayal. I can promise you it was not.”

Morganna stopped her pacing mid-stride and whirled on Richie, color rising high on her cheekbones. “You do not know. You cannot.”

“But I do,” Richie insisted gently. “I know that you overheard some girls talking about bang-- uh being with him. Accolon was told lies about you too. He was told that some other guy, a knight, wanted to fu – uh wanted you, and you were considering it and the queen wanted you gone from Court because she wanted the knight for herself.” Richie paused and took a deep breath. “It stands to reason if he was told lies that you were too.”

Morganna’s eyes widened as Richie spoke. How could he know of such things? “How – ” Morganna stopped her question as the answer presented itself in her mind. “You saw him? In the tomb? You saw him and spoke to him?”

Richie nodded. “It was freaky, seeing my reflection in the mirror. Well me, but not me. He looked like me and had a voice like me, but he was someone else. When we were talking, all his memories, my memories, our memories, whatever, returned to me. It appears you were right,” Richie finished, his voice getting thick. “I was Accolon. Your Accolon. That’s how I know that he never betrayed you. I can only guess at who fed these lies to you, but having met your brother…”

“Lucie?” Morganna said, incredulously. “You think my brother did this?” She thought for a moment and her disbelief turned to conviction. She knew quite well what he was capable of. Any doubt she may have had was removed when he took a dagger to his own sister.

“See? You think so too. It’s not anything Accolon said, and it’s not something in his memories, it's more like a feeling. Like when I saw your brother when I came out of the cave. I knew, just KNEW that he had something to do with your past unhappiness, and that pissed me off something fierce. For just a minute, I didn’t care that he was, well, who he is. All that mattered was that he hurt you and I wanted to hurt him back.”

When he finished his brief tirade, Richie’s head was throbbing. Having Accolon’s memory bank dump all over his brain was taxing. The look on Morganna’s face, however, was well worth whatever headache he may get.

Her eyes softened toward him and a shaky smile graced her perfect mouth. A trembling hand reached up to cup the side of Richie’s face, and he turned his head and inhaled deeply, taking her skin’s scent into him. When Richie looked back, Morganna was standing toe to toe with him, tears glistening in her eyes.

Her other hand rose to finish the frame around Richie’s face. Her thumbs stroked his cheekbones as she drew him slowly, achingly, almost imperceptibly, toward her. Richie went willingly, his own hands lifting to stroke the hair away from her forehead, then falling, fingers split to surround her ears, thumbs wiping the smudge of tears from under her eyes.

“You wished to protect me?” she whispered, smiling through her tears.

Richie nodded. “I know, it’s crazy, you can obviously take care of yourself, but yeah, I wanted to hurt him for hurting you.”

“And Accolon,” she whispered, searching his face, a mere breath of space between them. “You – he – did not betray me? Truly?”

“Truly he didn’t,” Richie answered, stressing the he. “He wouldn’t have – he loved you. But Anna, darlin’, let’s be clear: I am ‘Rich’. Not ‘Accolon’. I may have his face and his memories, his past may be linked, twisted somehow with my present, or I may have been him in another time and place. But here, now, with you, I am me. Rich. Richie.”

“It matters not what you call yourself,” Morganna breathed, her words tickling Richie’s lips. She slid her hand through Richie’s hair boldly, familiarly, like she had every right to do so. As she touched her lips to his, Richie’s heart squeezed in his chest just once, before filling then bursting with all the emotions Accolon had owned.

Richie eased back from her, and took her in his arms. “It does matter,” Richie said, shaking her slightly. “If we are going to do this, I want you to be clear about who is holding you. About who is touching you.”

Morganna blinked and nodded. “I do know. Maker save me, I know you are not him. You may look like him and have his memories, but I know, I promise I know, that you are you.”

Smiling, Richie pulled Morganna in for another kiss, a real kiss. His lips were soft on hers, gentle, easing her into the kiss. Teasing, tasting, learning the contours of her mouth. When she shifted against him, he tightened his embrace and let his tongue trace the seam of her lips, seeking entrée to her mouth.

With a sigh she acquiesced, opening to Richie’s probing. His tongue dove in, claiming hers. His flavor invaded all her senses, leaving no doubt who she was kissing. It was Richie.

It was Richie who backed her into the wall and leaned into her.

It was Richie who widened his stance, pressing his erection into the apex of her thighs, moaning at the warmth he felt even through their clothing.

It was Richie who trailed is hands down her neck, over her collarbones, and moved to span her waist before pushing up slowly to cup her breasts.

It was all Richie.