Author's Note: It only seemed right that I also do this night after giving you Scarlett's first times with her other two husbands. I think this is sad more than anything. And remeber this is the night after their wedding night because that night Charles slept in a chair.

Her feet ached, and her face felt frozen from all of the forced smiles that she had worn. But inside, her heart was breaking. Her Ashley, her precious golden Ashley was gone from her. He had married Melanie today in a simple ceremony. And the normally plain Melanie had shimmered with a happy glow. She had nearly been pretty in her joy, so much so that it surprised Scarlett. And now Ashley would be sharing his wedding night, his marriage bed, with Melanie. He had followed through just as he had said that he would. And so there was little left for her to do now.

Nothing mattered now. None of the feelings that she had held for Ashley had any relevance any longer, for not only was she married to Charles, Ashley was married to Melanie. She had been so stupid to think that marrying Charles to spite Ashley would do anything for her. And now, now there was no other choice than to allow Charles to have his way with her.

Mammy had already undressed her for the night, and somehow Scarlett knew that tonight she would not force Charles to sleep in the chair across the room from her. What did it matter anyway if Ashley could no longer be hers. She would not be the mistress of Twelve Oaks. Her perfect life would not be. Perhaps deep inside her mind, perhaps she had been harboring the hope that until Ashley married that it all could be undone, that Ashley would still ride in on a white steed and steal her away. But it had not happened, and the night found her sitting on her bed in her beribboned fine nightgown with Irish lace insets waiting for her husband on Ashley's wedding night, and the man coming to her was not him.

Her mother had explained briefly what the encounter with Charles would entail, but the thought of it terrified her. And her mother had been very vague with her information, only encouraging her that children would be a joy and a blessing. She consoled Scarlett that though those times with her husband might be humiliating that having children would more than make up for the unpleasantness. Words like unpleasantness and humiliation did little to ease Scarlett's already troubled and anxious mind. And yet Charles would be in from the dressing room at any moment. She trembled at the thought of the unknown, even as Charles emerged from the dressing room in his own night clothes. He glanced at his young bride. She looked so lost, but then his concern for her grew as she burst into tears. "Scarlett, darlin' don't cry." He crooned as he rushed to the bed. "I hate to see you cry."

She did not respond to him, only continuing to sob, making heart wrenching little choking sounds. "Honey, the war will be over soon enough. You don't need to be worried about me. I won't be gone for long." He offered trying to soothe her, but her sobs did not abate. He had no reason to understand her or even begin to imagine that her tears were not over the threat of his absence or his death. He had no idea the true reason for her tears. But why would he? He was a sweet and gentle boy and assumed all others to be like himself, for living in a home with Aunt PittyPat and his kind-hearted sister had done nothing to contradict his impression of life. And so he sat on the bed with his beautiful sobbing wife unsure of what to do. He held her to him, allowing her head to rest on his shoulder. She felt so fragile in his arms, so very frail and small.

It was nice to be held, as long as she could pretend that it was someone else holding her and not look at his face. It wasn't that he was unattractive, for in truth he was handsome in his own right. But he was not the one that she wanted to be holding her, and that made all of the difference. He was sweet and kind and shy to a fault. But his greatest fault was that he was not Ashley Wilkes.

And as he held her, he began allowing his hands to rove over her body. It seemed that he was no more educated in the matters of marital relations than she. The few times that she did open her eyes, she could see the crimson blush that painted his face. He was both nervous and excited as he held her small body close to his. She was trembling from fear and from the agony that was ripping at her heart. Why should it matter what Charles did tonight, for she could not have Ashley.

Slowly, with fumbling awkward hands, he prepared himself for what was to come, knowing enough to understand what needed to be done. He kissed her, trying to distract her from her sadness, trying to remove her sorrows from her. He was so very eager with his kisses, and she turned from them sobbing. "Shhh, darlin'. It's going to be all right. Don't fret, honey. I don't want you to be sad." His hands traveled along her slender body, seemingly amazed and awestruck by her softness and the sweetness of the scent of her skin so near to him.

And then finally after allowing his hands to explore her body and his kisses to taste of her, he moved to consummate the marriage. It was obvious as he began that he was not experienced in the matter, nor had anyone explained much to him about the act itself other than the very basics. He was not a country boy who had been versed in animal husbandry from his childhood, unlike the Tarletons or Cade would have been. And she cried harder, now not from emotional pain. The pain was now physical. There was a burning pain followed by another sharper pain inside of her. And she cried. And all the while he was trying to soothe her and stop the tear flow. When she cried out in deep pain, he nearly cried with her. He didn't want her to hurt. He had looked forward to this moment with eager anticipation. But she was cringing and crying, and he knew that he was at fault. "I'm sorry, Scarlett. Oh, honey, I'm so sorry." There were tears forming in his eyes.

The act itself was over soon enough, leaving the white sheets spotted with crimson blotches. And he tried to comfort her, tried to explain how sorry he was that she was in pain. But she pulled away from him, her bright green eyes shooting accusations at him for the trauma that he had caused.

She turned away from him and scooted to the very edge of the bed and continued to cry deep shuddering sobs, and each time that he tried to comfort her with a consoling hand, she jerked away from him. "Just leave me be. You've done enough." She told him with a hard edge to her voice. And finally he gave up. It didn't seem that he was any use when it came to consoling his wife. Perhaps this is what it was like for everyone. He thought that he must have done something wrong, and she was obviously too delicate for such a brutal act of the flesh. And for a flash he was almost ill at the thought of his sister enduring the same pain that Scarlett had, but Melanie did not stay in his mind for long. He was still consumed with thoughts of his wife next to him.

But she wouldn't allow him to touch her, and any words that he spoke would only result in more tears. And so he gave up and went to sleep.

And she lay there thinking of the nights that stretched before her of enduring this shame and humiliation until he left for war in less than a week's time, hoping never to have to feel like this again. No one told her it was going to hurt like this. No one had mentioned all of the pain. And yet here she was married to a man that caused her pain so intense that she couldn't help but cry. And she couldn't wait for him to be gone. And so she closed her eyes and tried to think of anything that would block out the pain.

But her heart still ached for the defection of Ashley's love had hurt her even more than Charles's awkward advances.