He looked so different, sleeping in the early morning light. Gone was the fierce warrior who fought at her side during the day, and the gentle lover who had taught her so much in the night. What remained was just a man, weary and clearly in pain, even in his sleep.

Romelle watched Sven sleep, partly wary of him, even now, and partly curious. She'd never seen a man unclothed—she refused to count Lotor—and now seemed like a perfect opportunity to satisfy her interest. Sven was deeply asleep, stretched out on his right side, and would never know she was looking, or even touching. Gathering her nerve, she shifted in his arms, moving back to get a better look at him.

There was still a hint of a military cut in the shaggy blue black hair, but not enough to tame the curls that were overtaking it. Sleep and their passion the night before had combined to create a tousled mass that Romelle, to her surprise, longed to run her fingers through. Suppressing the desire, she continued to catalog his features. His eyes were closed in sleep, but she knew they were a dark midnight blue, that could either twinkle in amusement or blaze with passion. Guarding them were long dark lashes that any woman would kill to claim for her own. Romelle leaned forward a bit, daring to run her finger lightly down the straight bridge of his sharp nose, marveling that it remained unbroken.

The room, as usual for the Polluxian castle, was overheated; Sven, who had told her he came from a very cold region on Earth, glistened with sweat, and had only the sheet draped across his hips to protect his modesty. Romelle let her fingers trail down his strong jaw, pulling them back when Sven stirred, then moving to shakily touch his chest when he subsided back into sleep. Sven's chest fascinated her; never before had she seen hair on a man's chest, and she had spent a great deal of time petting it and stroking it over the course of their evening, amused at Sven's choked reaction. Now, though, she threaded her fingers through the softness, carefully watching Sven to make sure he didn't wake as she traced the taut firmness of the muscle beneath.

Sven was handsome, no question, and a finer specimen of man than any Romelle had ever seen. He wasn't perfect, though, and she shivered as her gaze fell on part of that imperfection: the Drule deathshead branded into the muscle of his left forearm. He told her it didn't hurt, but that he'd kept it, the Force had kept them, to remind them of what they fought for. Horrible as it was, though, it was not the worst thing on him. That she could just see when she craned her neck over his shoulder. A knotty mass of scar tissue, the result of facing Witch Haggar and a Robeast single-handedly. It had very nearly cost Sven his life; it DID cost him constant pain, which she knew he fought to conceal from her. Tears filled her eyes as she touched the angry welts, to think that so great and noble a man could be so damaged. . .

"It's all right, elskede; Lance's life vas vort every bit of de pain." Romelle jumped at the sleep-roughened voice, and looked up to see Sven watching her through half-open eyes, a smile playing around his lips.

Sven had woken up at Romelle's first movements; being alone on Doom for so long had made him a very light sleeper. Knowing how jumpy she was, though, he had kept still, letting her explore him even though he had to grit his teeth against his body's reaction. The past three months had taught him more about patience and gentleness than he had thought he was capable of. But seeing her tears had been more than he could stand.

"How long have you been awake?" she asked, looking away from him shyly.

"The whole time," he admitted. "I saw you vere looking, and I did not vant to embarrass you." He gently pulled her back into his arms, raising a hand to wipe her tears. "Do I pass inspection?" he asked lightly, trying to defuse the mood.

"Of course you do," she whispered, nestling against his chest. "You're wonderful, Sven; the best thing that ever happened to me."

"As you are de best ting to happen to me," he told her, kissing the top of her head. "You saved my life, Romelle. I love you, now and always."