Sven

It has been two days since the attack; my head is finally clearing, and my shoulder has subsided to a dull ache. Which means I can have the talks I need to have with my family. Things have gone on long enough.

Keith and Lance will be here any minute; Romelle thankfully went with Mamma to get some lunch. They walk in together, and I can't miss how their faces change when they realize Romelle isn't here. "Where's the princess?" Lance asks, blunt as always. "She get a better deal again?" Keith glances at him reprovingly, but doesn't argue.

"You know, I haf had enough of dat from you. Bot of you." I glare at each of them in turn. "Tell me, do you tink Romelle knew vhat I vas capable of?" I get twin headshakes. "I tell you, she knew in hideous detail EXACTLY vhat her fater und bror could do. Und vitout knowing vhat I could do against dem, she did vhat she tought vas de right ting—de only ting she could do. I find no fault in her for dat. Seriously, min bror; you bot sat trough de same seminar on abused vomen dat I did; how do you fault Romelle for acting de only vay she tought she could?"

I'm gratified to see sheepish looks before Keith speaks up. "We didn't think of it like that. All we saw was you getting hurt. And her walking away with them, after all you'd risked for her."

"I understand," I sigh, laying back against my pillows and closing my eyes. Talking should not be so exhausting. "But . . . she is back vit me. Und I haf forgiven her. Let it go, ja? If I can, lying here vit a hole in my shoulder und de gods' own headache, surely you can?"

"Sure, Sven; we're sorry." Lance's voice. "And we'll tell her when we see her, OK?" I nod, and after a few minutes I hear them leave; I'm not much of a talker on a GOOD day, which this is not, and I cannot blame them for not hanging around.

I doze for a bit, waking at the sound of light footsteps entering my room, and a slight pressure on the side of my bed. Good, time for round two.

Romelle

He's asleep again, thank the Lady. Part of me feels guilty for avoiding him, but how can I face him? He could have died because of me, and the way his brothers look at me—he feels the same way, I know it. He's just letting me stay because he feels responsible for me. I've ruined his life.

So, I sneak around. I wait until I know he's asleep, or he's had his medication, and then I creep in here, when he won't know I'm here. His schedule has him taking his heaviest pain medication now, so I'm safe to sit on his bed. Oh, Sven! I'm so sorry . . .

"I tink dis has gone on more den long enough, ja?" I freeze at the unmistakable voice, and look down to see a very wide awake Sven, pinning me with those intense blue eyes. I start to stammer an apology and leave; his hand locks around my wrist with more strength than I would've guessed he had. "No, elske. You haf been avoiding me since Keit brought you here. I know you haf come here vhen I sleep, dat you sit and vatch me like you are now. Vhat I do not know is vhy. Please talk to me."

So. Here it is, then. It's all I can do not to twist my hands like a little girl. "I know you're angry with me, don't want anything to do with me. I've ruined your life, your career, and I understand that. But. . . I love you, and I just. . .I just wanted to see you while I could. Before you send me away somewhere."

"Und chust how do you 'know' dese tings, elske?" He's watching me carefully, his expression unreadable as always. "Haf you talked to me? Haf I told you I am angry, dat I am going to send you avay?"

Now I DO twist my hands. "W-well, no, but. . . Sven, you're hurt because I was stupid! How can you not hate me? Keith and Lance do, I've seen how they glare at me! I SHOULD be sent away!" And to my horror, the tears start.

"Kjaereste, kjaereste. . ." Sven sits up, pulling me into his embrace even though I know it has to be hurting him. "My poor elske. . .I am hurt because I chose to protect you from your so-called family. I vould do it again, und regret not a bit of it. Keit und Lance also haf I dealt vit; dey know dey vere wrong, and vill be apologizing to you. As for my life, my career being ruined? Elske, I am fine, or vill be in a veek or so. Ja, dis vill delay our mission, but Onkel Michael says it is actually a good ting. He has a systems analyst—a Baltan, I tink—und a mechanic dat he tinks vill be a better fit for de team, und de delay vill give dem time to be repositioned to join us." He pulls back to look at me, and I get lost in those blue eyes again. "So, stop vorrying, ja? Und stop avoiding me. I am not angry vit you; you did not know vhat I vas capable of, und you did vhat you tought vas right."

I want so badly to believe him! "S-so you aren't going to send me away?"

A slow headshake; I look at him closely and see he's losing what color he had. "Never," he says tiredly, closing his eyes. "I luf you, min Romelle. Vit all I am. I vould cut my right arm off before I sent you avay." He opens his eyes again, though he lies back against the pillows. "But. . . you haf to learn to talk to me, lille. Chust as I need to learn to talk to you. Ve bot haf had a lot of pain dat could haf been avoided vit a few vords. . ." His face is drawn and white now, and I silence him with a kiss.

"Shh. . . we can talk about it later. You need your rest, and some pain medication, I think." As if my words summoned the man, Sven's doctor appears in the doorway, a needle in his hand. Sven scowls halfheartedly, but makes no protest as the doctor administers his drugs. Once the doctor leaves, I feel a pull at my sleeve.

"I haf not slept vell in days," Sven admits softly, an appeal clear in his eyes and voice. "I missed you, kjaereste. Lie down vit me for a vhile?" I can't say no to that, especially not when I haven't slept well either. Carefully I cuddle up to his good side, sighing contentedly as he wraps his strong arm around me. "Elsker deg, min engel," he murmurs into my hair, kissing my neck before sleep takes him.

"I love you, too," I whisper, even though I know he doesn't hear me, and follow him into sleep. There's still a lot for us to work through, still his brothers and the flight to Arus to face, but. . . all that can wait. I'm home. And I'll never leave him again. Bless the Lady of the Stars, for a chance meeting.