This story has been an absolute monster. I'd planned to have it out on Valentine's Day three years ago, but... well, you can see how that went. Finally, I'm ready to share it with you. I hope it was worth it.


Moving slowly through the broad corridors of the castle, Romelle allowed herself to be lost in thought, ignoring the beams of sunlight that shone through the windows and moved across her eyes. She had too much to think about and consider to be bothered by something as minor as irritating sunlight. She played with the hem of her dress nervously, and wondered if Sven would be up yet, or if he'd try to find her.

Sven. She sighed and closed her eyes. She'd left him sleeping in his bed shortly before dawn, trying hard not to stare at the skin she'd so briefly indulged in the night before. He wasn't a heavy sleeper by any means - for as long as she'd known him, he'd slept as lightly as she'd known anyone to, awake at the smallest noise that had echoed through the caves on planet Doom. To be able to dress and escape without him noticing was a small miracle in and of itself.

Escape? Is that what I've done? Sven isn't a monster. He wasn't anything of the sort last night and you know it.

Shame enveloped her at the thought. For the first time in their relationship, as long and dragged out as it had been at her own insistence, she'd finally gone to him saying she was ready. Sven had been everything she needed in a man after the traumatizing events that took place with Lotor, and his patience was well worth a reward. He'd kissed her so gently when she surprised him at his door, standing as confidently as she'd felt at the time, walking slowly as he guided her into his room and to his bed. Are you sure? he'd asked, cupping her face in his hands, and when she'd said yes, she really had thought so.

So what had gone wrong?

Romelle stared out the passing windows to the bright sunlit day. She knew what had gone wrong. She'd done it so many times with Lotor that it had become a gut reaction, kicking in when she didn't even plan on letting it. She'd hidden within herself, going through the motions and responding when spoken to, but otherwise hadn't been a participant.

She was certain Sven had been the most tender and considerate lover she'd ever had. In her mind's eye, it was the greatest sexual experience she'd ever had in her life.

She didn't remember a moment of it.

The feeling was horrible. She had truly felt she was ready. Sven was the one man she trusted above all others (besides Bandor) and his character only amplified her affection for him. This was the same man who'd kissed her so gently and lightly the first time she'd wondered if the experience had been her imagination. He'd held her hand or let it rest in the crook of his elbow everywhere they'd gone, never afraid to show his feelings for her. He helped her learn to laugh at the little things, held her when a memory was particularly harsh, and smiled at her randomly throughout the day. He said anything and everything in Norwegian for her simply because she loved the way it sounded, and how he had such strong control over his native language.

Romelle stopped at a window, staring absently at the plains below, trying to gather her thoughts. She'd stepped into his room, and he'd asked her if she was ready. She'd said yes, he looked at her in a way she'd never seen before, smiled so gently she'd felt weak in the knees, then… he'd kissed her, she remembered. It was so long and lazy and perfect she'd almost gotten impatient with it. And then…

Had he reached for her robe next? Or had she really gotten that good at pulling herself out of the moment she didn't even know when it happened? She felt tears come to her eyes, her misery almost unbearable. Would she always be like this?

"Romelle?"

His voice shouldn't have surprised her, but it did. She knew he'd come looking for her the moment he saw her missing. She stood and looked at Sven, taking in the bed clothes he'd hastily thrown on and his messy hair. Had she done that at some point? A lump formed in her throat.

"Kjaereste, what's wrong?" he stepped forward, reaching out for her. When she pulled back, the hurt in his eyes was almost unbearable.

"I can't…" Her voice was thick and heavy. Romelle cleared her throat, swallowing back the sob she'd been so ready to release moments earlier. "Sven, I… I need some time to myself right now."

He took a quick look down the hall and spoke quietly. "Did I do something wrong?"

"Sven, please." She took a step back, hating how hesitant and slightly afraid she felt. "I'll… I'll talk to you later."

Not waiting another moment, she hurried down the hall. Sven didn't follow. She didn't know whether she was relieved or heartbroken.


It was very easy to determine that the most miserable day she'd had since returning from Doom was this one. In all the time she knew him, she couldn't recall a single day where she willingly hid from Sven, yet she found herself dodging places she knew he would be, eventually hiding in her room and locking her door. All of her documents to look over for the day were brought to the small desk she had inside. She got more work done that afternoon than she had in months.

She hated it. Certain her work was sloppy and distracted, she'd requested a maid to bring her some tea to ease her mind. After several minutes of trying to focus at the document before her and not think about how hurt Sven looked that morning, there was a light knock on the door.

"I left it open for you Marie," she called out, rereading the first paragraph again.

The tray was set on the corner of the desk. The hands holding it stilled for a moment… hands which were obviously bigger and more masculine than Marie's. Romelle dropped the pen she was holding and leaned back in her chair. Sven stood before her, looking at her nervously.

"Romelle," he said quietly. "We need to talk about last night."

She knew he'd find her. It didn't surprise her that he'd come to her so quickly. Sven was never one to let issues linger between the two of them. He always wanted misconceptions to be taken care of as soon as possible. That dated all the way back to the caves, when her distrust of him was at its highest. She learned to trust him quickly. He always wanted the best for her.

It was probably why she'd left the door unlocked.

She nodded, looking at the tea and two cups he'd brought with him. Sven crouched before her, taking her hands in his and holding them gingerly. The sincerity in his eyes was overwhelming. "I'm not sure what's happened, or what I've done… but if I did anything to hurt you last night, anything at all, I'm so sorry."

Sorry? He thinks he…

Romelle did the last thing she expected to do.

She burst into tears.

"Elskede," he pleaded, getting on his knees and pulling her close. "Please talk to me. I don't want you to be scared."

"It's not you," she whimpered, holding him tightly. "Oh Sven, it isn't you at all…"

"It's something," he insisted, rubbing her back. "Please tell me. I won't be upset. I just want to know so I can help."

Somehow that made it worse. He held her through her sobs, telling her everything would be alright, that he just wanted to know… dread filled her at the thought of his reaction, but he deserved to know. He'd never treated her wrong before, and there was little to suggest he'd do so now. She pulled back, staring at him through strands of hair that had fallen out of her braid when he crushed her to him. Sven looked terrified while he brushed them away, cupping her face in his hands like he'd done the night before. "What have I done, Romelle? Please tell me."

"It isn't you," she said, clearing her voice. "You've done nothing wrong."

"Nothing? Romelle, I waited forever to make love to you and the morning after you're gone and hiding from me. That doesn't tell me I did nothing wrong."

"I swear to you, you did nothing wrong." She covered his hands with hers, gripping them tightly. "Sven…" She swallowed, gathering her courage. "... I hid myself."

Sven went from terrified to confused in a split second. "You hid? I don't..."

Romelle took a deep breath. He brushed away fresh tears. "When I was in the harem, it was explained to me that a method of survival with Lotor was to hide within yourself. It takes you out of the moment… you can move and react when spoken to, but… if you get really good at it, you don't remember what happened." His eyes widened. All traces of confusion melted away. "I was his favorite." She choked on the word. "So I had many opportunities to practice. It became a… what's that expression you've used… a knee-jerk reaction. Lotor did many things to me, but I hardly remember any of them because I hid." She closed her eyes, ashamed and embarrassed. "That's what happened last night."

If possible, Sven held her closer, talking to her in Norwegian and the common tongue, babbling that he loved her, that everything was okay, he was happy he told her and how sorry he was she even knew how to do that. When he pulled back he held her face again. He spoke low and gently. "Kjaereste, you told me you were ready. You know I would have waited if you needed more time."

"I am ready. Don't you see? You didn't do anything wrong! You were perfect and I…" Her face crumbled, ready to break down again. "I reacted the only way I know how."

"It won't be 'the only way' forever," he promised, taking one of her hands and kissing it. "You've grown so much since I first met you, min Romelle. This is just another obstacle. You're very good at breaking those down."

Despite her lingering embarrassment, she couldn't help but grin a little. "And the way to break those barriers is to chip away at it."

He caught on to her meaning quickly. There was a mischievous twinkle in his eye when he smiled and said, "I'm really going to enjoy working through this one."

Laughter erased the last of her worries. His smile was tender, hinting at things to come. He caressed her hand with his thumb. "You're sure you were ready? We didn't move too fast, or…"

"I'm sure." She looked him right in the eyes. "I do desire you, Sven. Greatly. I'm sorry our…" She sighed, the weight of her words hitting her suddenly. "I'm sorry I ruined it."

To her surprise, he scoffed. "A lot of people have terrible first times. Mine wasn't anything memorable." He looked at her a moment, allowing the hidden meaning to sink in for her. "Don't look at it like that, though."

"No?"

He shook his head. "Look at it the best way, the realistic way - we get a second chance." He paused. "I certainly hope there's a second chance."

He was trying to make her laugh. It worked. "That's the only way to get through it, right?"

"What do you suggest, then?" He lifted her hand and took his time kissing it, nipping the skin of her wrist very gently. "Do you want to wait?"

"No," she said quickly, her own honesty surprising her. "I'm as certain as I was last night."

He had that look in his eyes again, the same one he gave her when she came to him the night before. "Then we'll try again." He stood and helped her out of her chair. When she took a step towards her bed, he put a hand on her waist and turned her toward her personal bath chambers.

"The bath?" she asked. "I thought…"

"We will," he said quietly, opening the door and turning a knob. "I want to spoil you first."

Romelle looked at the hot water running into the large bathtub, then turned to Sven. "I don't understand."

"That's unfortunate." His voice was kind, hovering on the low timbre that made her shiver. "You know the basics. That much we well know." He reached into her hair and gently pulled out the tie holding the braid together, running his hands through it. "There's more than one way to love someone, Romelle. I hope I've shown you a little." He brought his face close, brushing her nose with his. "I hope to show you much more."

She shivered, dizzy all of a sudden. He kissed her the way he had the night before, long, lazy and endless, slowly driving her mad. When he pulled back, he was grinning. Steam covered the walls and hung thick in the air around them. "Now I'm going to go in that corner and give you a little privacy. You get in. I'll follow shortly."

She frowned at him. "Privacy?"

He winked and walked to the farthest corner of the room, reaching for his boots and taking them off, never once facing her. She stared a moment, watching him slowly remove his clothing, puzzled at how this had anything to do with loving someone. Instinctively, she reached to shut the door.

Understanding dawned as the lock clicked into place. He'd left the door open. He was facing away from her, slowly unbuttoning his shirt.

He was giving her an out.

She felt her heart would burst at any second. His boots and socks were sitting in the corner, joined shortly by his shirt. He paused. "Romelle?" he asked quietly.

She hoped the lump in her throat wouldn't be too noticeable when she answered, "I'm here."