Romelle
Everything happened so fast in Marshal Graham's office; we were back in Sven's apartment before what he had said finally clicked in my head. "You. . .want to marry me?" He nods slowly, watching me from his perch on his desk. "And. . . I have your child?"
"You might, kjaereste," he says softly, looking down at his hands. "I vas. . . caught up in de moment last night, und I did not take de precautions I should haf. For dat, I am sorry."
He's sorry? The best night of my life, and he's sorry? I thought it was special, that it meant as much to him as it does me. . . Goddess, I can't breathe, it's so hot in here, the room's spinning. . .he doesn't want me, is probably saying he'll marry me out of obligation. . .Just as everything starts to go dark, those wonderful strong arms are wrapped around me, and I'm sitting in his lap, breathing in his cool scent.
"Easy, easy, kjaereste," he says against my ear. "De only ting I regret is dat I may haf given you a child before eiter of us is ready. I do not regret rescuing you in dat bar; I do not regret spending last night vit you," he moves so I can see the wicked grin he's wearing, "und I most certainly do not regret making luf to you."
It amazes me, how good, how right, his arms feel around me. I rest my head against his chest, reveling in the quiet, steady sound of his heartbeat. It makes me. . . want, like I did last night. "Sven?"
"Ja, Romelle?" His hand is in my hair, stroking it gently; I'm almost purring.
"Could we. . . would you?" I blush furiously, not having the words for what I want so very badly. And what Sven wants also, judging by the hardness pressing against me. Goddess, please let him understand me. I'm embarrassed enough.
Sven
She's enchanting, and maddening, and oh so very fragile. May all the gods damn the men who made her this way, where she takes the slightest negative comment as the most damning and total rejection. As she finally calms down, she asks the question I was hoping she would not ask, and it takes all my self-control not to give her the answer she wants. "Kjaereste, believe me, I vould like noting better," I tell her, tipping her chin so she's looking in my eyes. "But. . .ve do not haf de time, und. . ." Faen, this is hard to say. Lance would never let me hear the end of how hard I'm blushing right now. "If you are not sore from. . . last night, you should be, und I do not vant to hurt you." Her eyes search mine for a minute, then drop as she nods. "Vhy don't you go in and take a good, hot bath? I need to pack for de trip to Norvay, und see-"
She sits up abruptly, staring at me in panic. "Norway. . . goddess, your mother! I have nothing to wear; I can't meet her in your shirt!"
It's evil of me, I know, but I have to laugh. "You most certainly cannot; she gave me dat shirt for my last birtday." Romelle pales, and I'm immediately sorry. "Elske, do not worry about it. I promise, I vill make sure you haf proper clothes to meet Mamma." I cup her cheek in one hand and kiss her gently. "Now, off vit you. Ve do not haf much time." She gets off my lap and heads for the bathroom; I straighten my uniform and head for the shopping district. Only one place to go to get everything quickly; I just hope Danielle is working and can help me.
Romelle
Sven was right; the bath feels SO good, and I was sorer than I thought. I'm almost asleep in the tub when a noise at the front door startles me wide awake. "Elske, it is just me," Sven calls in his soft accent, and I relax before the panic can set in. By the time I dry off and dress in the shirt he left out for me, he's piling what seems like hundreds of bags on his bed.
"Sven! You. . .you shouldn't have spent so much; I didn't need. . ." My voice dies as he turns and closes my mouth with a finger under my jaw.
"Ja, you did need. You cannot live vit just von pair of jeans und two shirts, no matter vhat some of my teammates tink." He smiles gently, and my insides melt. "Besides. . .who better to spend money on den de voman I love, ja? Now, let's see vhat is here. . ." Together we pull jeans and skirts, silk blouses and cotton ones from the bags, carefully packing them in a large suitcase Sven produces from his closet. Three bags in, Sven comes up with a handful of lacy, silky underthings that have us both blushing and quickly jamming them in the suitcase. The rest of the packing goes by in a blur; before I know it, we're on a tiny ship, just enough room for us, Keith, and Lance at the controls, heading for whatever Norway is.
As the flight progresses, my stomach ties in tighter and tighter knots, and I clutch Sven's hand tightly. "Problems, kjaereste?" he asks softly, slipping his arm around my shoulders.
"Y-your mother," I gulp. "Wh-what if she doesn't like me? She sounds so strict and demanding. What if. . .I'm not what she wants for you?"
Sven's arm tightens, pulling me into his side. "Elske, elske. . .too much do you vorry. Mamma is strict, ja, but.. . I am her only son und she lufs me, very much. She vill like you, because you make me happy. Dat is all she ever vanted."
He sounds so sure; I wish I had his confidence in this. But before I can voice any more doubts, he's out of his seat and on one knee in front of me. Lance glances back with a smile, and somehow the flight gets even smoother. "Sven? What are you-?"
"I said I vould marry you, elske." He looks up at me, eyes shining with amusement, and . . . . something more. "But I haf not yet asked, haf I?" As I watch him, puzzled, he takes a small box from his pocket, opening it to show me a gorgeous ring, heart-shaped sapphire surrounded by diamonds. "Romelle," he says softly, eyes locked to mine, "I haf only known you 24 hours, and yet I feel I haf known you all my life. Will you be my bride, share my life, my vorld, vit me?"
All I can do is nod at him, wide-eyed; my voice has disappeared. He gently slips the ring on my finger, then gently kisses my hand. Something in me snaps, and I launch myself into his wonderful arms, kissing him over and over again. "It's real, we're going to get married, you love me!"
He just catches me and laughs. "Ja, it is, ve are, und. . I do. More than you know."
"I love you too," I whisper, losing myself in his eyes. Before either of us can say anything else, Lance clears his throat.
"I hate to break up this once in a lifetime moment," he says dryly, "But you might want to sit down. We're touching down at Oslo station, and I see Mamma Anna waiting." The words are like cold water on both of us; slowly we retake our seats as the spaceport looms outside the viewscreen. My breath catches; Sven takes my hand and rubs the back of it with his thumb, trying to calm me before we have to step out and face his mother. The ship settles to the ground with a thump, and a regal blonde woman steps from the shadows. "Time to face the music," Lance groans, getting up and following Keith out. Sven helps me to my feet, and we step out into a chill morning.