Now was not the time to tell Bragi that he really had been that bad. This was the first time Idun had properly seen him because every other time she just missed him instead, but there were a great many skalds who had offered her conversation and mead and they all attested to the shocking differences between the Bragi she spoke of and the Bragi they'd encountered. If Idun didn't have so much to sort out, it would've been the time to tell him that. But she had to run through the millions of ways they might've ended up together far sooner if she hadn't blocked Bragi at every turn, and that was proving to be a daunting task.
All the evidence really did point to love at first sight. It was one of the most romantic ideas Idun had ever come across, but writing love off made it impossible to realize when the very essence of her being had stopped being defined in terms of a single person and had transitioned into a split state. Bragi took half her soul and all of her heart with him when Idun left him in that tree. She really had no way of knowing at the time, but by their second meeting, there were far too many strokes of fate painted across the canvas for the picture to show anything but love. Denial wasn't a strong enough word to express what Idun had wrapped herself in.
But Idun had made a journey for him. She'd searched for him as his prose painted a path for her to follow across Midgard. The path ended right in front of her, and Idun was still stunned by the destination she had finally reached. Surrounded by chatter and stomping and the tentative notes of skalds remembering how to make music again, Idun felt very alone. The room was crowded, but she and Bragi were the only two in the tavern. He leaned close and Idun's lips parted with telltale intrigue. When he whispered into her ear, she was hardly disappointed, though she hadn't been anticipating words. Not when his eyes held mischief like that. A shiver wove a serpentine path up her back and Idun shut her eyes, smiling as she let the words truly sink in. She was her only competition, and Bragi had chosen her twice.
Swallowing back another declaration of love that Idun already knew she'd never get tired of sharing, she looked back at him and continued to smile. She listened. There was a slim chance she even arched an eyebrow to look playfully expectant as she listened, just to tease him. "You're the one always forgetting things, not me. I'm the stubborn one refusing to admit things, silly. You forgot our first two kisses."
It didn't matter. Bragi shook her hand and then he was kissing her. Idun hummed out pleasant surprise against his mouth, stretching up to help close the differences in height. She'd lean up on her toes forever if it meant he'd continue kissing her. Nothing compared to this. No kiss, not even a kiss they'd shared in the past, could hold a candle to this. Because this kiss wasn't stolen. It wasn't a reminder. As Idun brushed her fingers against the nape of his neck and worked her lips tenderly against his, it was clear that this was theirs. This kiss belonged to them in every sense, in every way, and nothing in the nine worlds could say otherwise. They'd both been lost for so long, and now they were finally found. Finally, after all this time, Bragi was hers and Idun was his and kissing him felt like the most natural, beautiful thing in the worlds. It was perfect and passionate yet relaxed, because they had all the time in the world.
They were untouchable.
Idun laughed as she pulled her lips from his. Her forehead touched Bragi's as she struggled to catch her breath. The chuckle really didn't help her along with that goal. "For the record," she whispered, "I think Jondi is a terrible name. I hope you chose something better for your play. Something lovely."
And then she gave in to breathlessness because kissing him again was better than breathing.