Sven

As soon as assignments are passed out, I make a weak excuse to Keith and head for home, so angry I can barely see straight. Keith doesn't buy the excuse, as I knew he wouldn't, and follows me, as does Lance, both asking what the hell is going on. I ignore them, stalking through the early morning San Francisco streets focused on nothing but getting answers from the woman who possibly has just cost me everything I have ever worked for.

She's still asleep in my bed, curled around my pillow. How can such a manipulative woman look so forbannet innocent? "Romelle. You have to vake up." She blinks sleepily, then her face lights up when she sees me. I kill that pretty quickly. "Good morning, Your Highness. Sleep well, Princess?" The color drains from her face and tears well up in her eyes; I keep pushing. "Ja, imagine my surprise, to be called in to look for de missing Prinsesse of Pollux, only to realize I know exactly vhere she is! Hope you enjoyed yourself; it vill cost me dearly."

"Sven, please, let me explain. . ." she sits up and reaches out to me; I jerk away.

"Explain? Vhat is dere to explain? Gud i himmeln, I vill be court-martialed for taking advantage of you! Und den dere is vhat your vater vill do. . ." I rant for I don't know how long, until a hand clamps my shoulder.

"Sven, enough; calm the fuck down," Lance says in Norwegian, and I realize with a start that I've been screaming at Romelle in my native language. "Now," Lance says quietly, shifting back to English for Romelle's benefit, "What in seven hells is going on here, Viking? I remember the lady from Carsten's last night; how did we get from there to your bed?"

Quickly I go over last night's events for him and Keith, then glare at Romelle. "Vhy? Vhy did you not tell me who you vere? I vould haf done tings so very differently."

Before she can say anything, Keith jumps in, jerking me around to face him. "Are you out of your mind? You know the regs about attachments prior to deployment, and to sleep with a princess? I didn't think you were that stupid, Sven."

"Everyvon is not de monk you are, Kogane. Und as I said; if I had known she vas de prinsesse, I vould haf done tings differently. Men du erperfekt,ikke sant?" Keith can make me lose my temper like no other ever has, and he's coming close right now.

Lance gets in between us. "Back off, Keith. He didn't know she was a princess, and the regs only discourage attachments. Now, how about you and me go do something elsewhere while these two sort things out? Really don't want to clean your blood up, and Sven's about ready to spill it for you." Before Keith or I can say anything, he has dragged Keith out of my room, leaving me alone with Romelle.

Romelle

Everything's gone so wrong! And oh, Goddess, it's all my fault! I was so happy this morning, waking up to see Sven standing there, so handsome in his uniform. Then it all came crashing down when he called me Princess, revealed that Father and Avok were looking for me, and that he knew. His words were so harsh; I know he hates me now. How could he not? He's demanding an explanation, but all I can do is curl up in a miserable ball, sobbing. What can I do; I've lost him.

Through my misery I hear his friends argue with him, then the door closes. A minute later, there's a weight on the bed, and a hand clamped firmly on my shoulder, pulling me up to face a very angry Sven. "Now. Talk to me, Prinsesse. Vhat are you playing at? Did you tink it vould be entertaining to toy vit a Garrison officer, maybe even ruin his career? Is dat how you amuse yourself, Highness? Tell me!" His voice, his expression. . .it's Father all over again, thundering about the betrothal I WOULD accept, and suddenly it's too much. I wail and tear myself from his grip, burrowing under the blankets away from him, shaking so hard I can hardly breathe.

Sven

She's curled up under the blankets, clearly shaking, and I can hear her gasping sobs. My anger runs away like water through the fjords. Min gud, how could I frighten her so? I know the signs of an abused woman, and she has shown them all since we met. "Romelle, lille, I am sorry. I just. . .if dis gets out, I am in a lot of trouble. Please, tell me vhy?"

She shrinks away from me. "Please believe me, Sven; I never intended to hurt anyone. I told you the truth. . . I am to be married when we return to Pollux, to an absolute beast. I've heard horrible things about how he treats women, but I have no choice. My father has decreed that I will accept this marriage. So, last night, I wanted. . ." she takes a breath. "I wanted to live, just for a little while. To know what it's like to be a normal girl. All I intended was to have a few drinks in that bar before slipping home. Then that man grabbed me, and you. . ." she shakes her head. "No one has ever been so kind to me, or so gentle, and I was enjoying it so much. I know you must hate me, and I cannot blame you. But. . .what I said, what I did last night, was real. I. . . care for you a lot, Sven. I think I even love you." The tears start again. "But, if you want to send me away, give me back to my father, I understand. I deserve no better."

"My poor lille," I say softly. "I do not hate you; I spoke in anger, but I understand vhy you did what you did now. And. . .crazy as it sounds, I think I love you too. I feel as though I haf vaited all my life for you." I tilt her face up to me, and kiss her gently, swearing internally at how she trembles. "Ve vill vork dis out, kjaereste. Look, vhy don't you get a shower, den ve vill sit down und talk about it, ja?" I help her up and show her where everything is in my bathroom, then walk out to the living room, where I know Keith and Lance are waiting.

Keith looks up guiltily as I drop into my favorite chair. "I'm sorry, Sven. I really overreacted. Still getting used to this command thing."

"You tink?" I ask dryly, and he has the grace to blush. "Over und done vit, Keit. De question now is, how do we fix dis, vitout me in de brig or dead?"

Lance comes from the kitchen with coffee for the three of us. "Only you, Sven. Princess. Why did she have to be a princess, for God's sake? And you head over heels for her; don't tell me you aren't."

I take the coffee from him with a glower that turns to a sigh. "Ja, I am. Vhat do I do, min bror? I cannot leaf her to dis horrible marriage she talks about."

"Whatever we do, it can't have our, and specifically YOUR, names anywhere near it." Keith takes a sip of his coffee. "I'm not convinced we should do anything; from what I've read, arranged marriages are a fact of life for royal families. What makes this one so awful?"

"It is to Prince Lotor of the Ninth Kingdom of the Drule Supremacy." The soft voice startles all three of us; Romelle is standing in my bedroom door, wrapped in my bathrobe. "And I would rather die than become his wife."

Well, THAT'S the last thing any of us expected to hear. Romelle comes and huddles on the sofa as we all gape; typically, Lance finds his voice first. "You've gotta be kidding. Your dad wants you to marry THAT bastard? Does he KNOW what Lotor does to women?"

"Worse than that," Keith says quietly. "What game is he playing? Marrying Romelle off to the Ninth Kingdom heir, while at the same time cozying up to the Alliance?"

"Father wants to be on the winning side," Romelle says quietly, looking down at her hands. "He's not sure what side that is yet, so he decided to be friendly to both sides."

"So he just. . . trows you avay, like yesterday's newspaper? I vill not allow dis to happen! I-I vill resign my commission, take you to Norvay und hide you. . ."

Three people cut me off immediately; Keith and Lance nod to Romelle. "No, Sven," she says gently, leaning over to touch my arm hesitantly. "You've worked too hard to throw everything away for someone you just met. I won't let you do that."

"But. . .," Keith says slowly. "Romelle DOES needs to be protected. If we take her to Marshal Graham, she tells him what she knows of King Cova's scheming, I'm positive the Alliance would grant her asylum."

Romelle

They're going to take me away from him. The dark-haired man, Keith, I think his name is, is talking about asylum and how to get into see someone called Marshal Graham. I quit listening when I realize it means I'll never see Sven again. I fold my hands in my lap, fighting tears. Nothing good ever stays in my life; my mother, my nanny . . . now Sven, whom I have come to love so much in so short a period. I'm tempted to throw my arms around his neck and beg him to take me to whatever "Norvay" is, but I can't. He's a Garrison officer; I can't let him throw that away for my foolish wants. He deserves better.

Calloused fingers trail down my jaw, turning my face up to look at a worried Sven. "Lille, talk to me," he says softly. "Vhat do YOU vant to do?"

All my royal training, all the cruel conditioning of my father and Avok, vanishes at the look in his eyes. "I don't want to leave you!" I wail, burying my face in his broad shoulder. A small part of my mind wonders if he's as surprised as I am as my outburst continues. "Please, Sven! You're the best thing that's ever happened to me! Don't send me away!"

Strong arms wrap around me, and his lips kiss my hair. "Sssh, kjaereste. I vill not send you avay. I love you, remember? Ve vill vork dis out, I promise."

"Besides, if we can sell Graham on it, it's the best possible protection." This from the red-haired man Sven called Lance. He leans forward, green eyes intent as he outlines his point. "Think about it. Cova finds out Romelle's got asylum from the Alliance, where's he going to look for her? Locked away in an Alliance facility, or wrapped in the arms of some brand new commander with a goofy accent while his devastatingly handsome and charming friends help guard her?" He grins, and I can't help but laugh.

"See, elske?" Sven whispers to me. "My brothers and I, ve vill take care of you. Promise."

"We have to sell Marshal Graham on this first." There's a note of authority in Keith's voice that seems out of place on someone so young; not even my father's oldest commanders speak so. "Sven, call him; play the favorite nephew card and get us in ASAP. Lance, I need you to get over to where we're supposed to be searching; report in to Captain DeFuras, call no joy," he gives me an ironic look, "and get our next search grid. That should keep the heat off us for a bit." Sven eases me off his lap with a quick kiss; he and Lance both salute Keith before Lance leaves the apartment and Sven vanishes behind me.

Keith picks up a datapad and starts typing; I shrink into a corner of the sofa, trying to be as small and unobtrusive as possible. Women aren't supposed to impose themselves on men, especially when they're busy. My movement catches his attention, though, and he looks up with a shy smile. "Are you all right, Princess? Can I get you anything? We have coffee, or tea if you would rather."

"N-no, please don't go to any trouble." I shrink further under his direct gaze. Sven, where's Sven? He's gone, I'm here alone with this strange man, what's going to happen? This room is so small, so hot, I can't breathe, I need Sven. . .

"Princess? Are you all right?" Keith leans over and puts his hand on my arm, and I can't help myself.

"Get away from me!" I scream, jumping out of the chair and as far away from him as I can manage. As Keith sits stunned, I sink to the floor, curling in a ball and sobbing.

Sven

Romelle screams just as I'm putting my com away, and the sound terrifies me, even though I know she's perfectly safe with Keith. I fly out of my room to find her crumpled on the floor, crying her heart out, with Keith staring at her dumbfounded. I drop beside her, pulling her into my lap, holding her close as I whisper to her. For a few minutes she flails, still caught in her panic, managing to land a good strike to my nose. Finally, my accent and cologne break the panic, and she relaxes against me, still crying.

"I had no idea," Keith says in soft, slow Norwegian. I taught him and Lance my native language because I tend to revert to it if I'm sick or hurt, but Lance is far more fluent. "I could tell she's been traumatized, but I didn't know. . .all I did was touch her arm!"

I glance up from rocking Romelle. "There is no way you could have known, Keith. Don't blame yourself." She's starting to calm down a bit, so I stand with her in my arms and head back into my room, curling up on the bed with her. "Shhh, it's all right, Romelle. You're safe, I'm here. Breathe deep for me, relax, ja? Keit vould never hurt you, nor vould Lance. Und I vill keep you safe."

Gradually I feel the tension leave her body, though she still clings to me. "I'm so sorry, Sven. What your friend must think of me! And your uniform is going to be all wrinkled!" She starts to scramble up, but I hold her in place.

"I haf other uniforms; I vould change before ve go to Onkel Michael's office anyvay. Und Keit knows vhen a voman has been traumatized; he vill tink no ill of you." Gently I wipe away her tears. "I know dis vill take time, but. . . you are as safe vit Keit und Lance as you are vit me. Dey vill protect you just as much as I vill."

She nods, looking up at me wide-eyed as she touches my throbbing nose. "Oh, Sven. . .did I do that?"

"You did; Lance vill be upset vit you. He has been trying to break my nose for tree years, und you do it by accident." I smile and kiss her to show I'm teasing, then get up to go wash my face.

Romelle is sitting up when I come back in. "Wh-what did the Marshal say?"

I sigh. "He is not happy; vit you going missing, und de summit, he is very busy. But. . .he promised to make time for us at lunch."

Her eyes fly wide. "Sven! Oh, Goddess! I can't. . . I shouldn't. . .I don't have the right clothes! He will never believe I'm Princess Romelle!" Before I can do or say anything, she's pacing my room, eyes calculating. Suddenly she grabs my shirt from last night and puts it on, examining herself in the mirror. "What do you think of this?"

I find myself swallowing against a suddenly dry throat. My shirt hangs to below her knees, and her tiny frame is swallowed in it, but. .. .somehow it sets my blood on fire, seeing her like that. "I tink you look forbanna good in my shirt," I finally get out. "But...it needs someting."

She eyes herself in the mirror for a minute, then her eyes light up. "Of course! A belt! Do you have one, Sven?"

I can't help but laugh. "None of mine vould fit you, kjaereste. Let me see if Keith has something." I go back out to where Keith is still sitting; after reassuring him that I am all right, as is Romelle, I make my request. He thinks for a minute, then I see the light come on, and he disappears into his room, coming out a few minutes later with a folded piece of turquoise cloth.

"This should work," he says quietly. "It doesn't fit me since we started all that weight training. You remember how to tie an obi, or do you want me to do it?"

"I tink I can do it; safer for Romelle dat vay." I take the belt from him and go back into my room, where Romelle stands waiting. Quickly I tie the sash around her tiny waist, sneaking a feel of her curves as I wrap it, then pull her into my arms. "No matter vhat happens today, alvays vill I love you, Romelle. Und no matter vhere dey send you, I vill find you. I svear it."

She nods, blue eyes wide and fearful. "I'll always love you, Sven. No matter what, I'll wait for you." I tighten my arms around her and lift her for a long, deep kiss, doing my best to memorize how she feels, tastes, smells in my arms. All too soon, I have to end the kiss, and set her on her feet. She looks up at me for a minute, raising a hand to cup my cheek, then drops it to my arm. I cover it with my other hand, and we go join Keith. Fifteen minutes later, Lance returns, and we set out for Marshal Graham's office.