Their one night together had been both spectacular and devastating. The way her skin had felt under his hands—the soft, dark freckles that dusted her body after years of training in the unforgiving Asgardian sun. Her scars and calluses formed a beautiful map of her life. He wanted to take the time to memorize her.
But she wouldn’t allow it again until her duty was complete and magic was restored. He couldn’t let it go so easily, it was forever imprinted on his mind.
Shortly after their magic had been ripped from them, leaving them vulnerable and seeking comfort, she succumbed to the pull. One night, after too much rage and too much war, they came together in a mess of tongues and teeth. He’d buried himself in her and it was, quite honestly, the best night of his life.
No one understood him the way Solveig did. She instinctively knew what he wanted and needed before he did—touching him everywhere like she couldn’t get enough. He’d been elated and full of hope, though war still raged around them and their magic was gone, as he lay in the tangled sheets, drifting into a peaceful sleep.
In the morning, he rolled over to bring her closer, but the sheets had gone cold. When he opened his eyes, she was already lacing up her boots.
He had replayed their conversation in his mind a thousand times. Every single time, it stung like it did that day.
“Where are you going?” he had asked her, his voice like gravel from sleep.
“I have to get out to rounds. Larson will be on my ass if I’m late.”
Latham breathed a sigh of commiseration. Captain Larson was as strict as they came—he would make anyone running late to duty pull extra hours of labour in the camp, including Solveig, though she outranked him.
“He’s such a prick,” Latham agreed, closing his eyes. “I have the day off today, but come find me when you’re finished. We’ll grab a bite to eat.” He was already missing her, and after last night, couldn’t wait to have her again.
There was a pause. Latham opened his eyes, taking her in. Wiping away the sleep, he saw her clearly for the first time. She wasn’t looking at him.
“Sol, what’s wro—” he began to ask.
“Last night was a mistake,” she said harshly, lifting her head to look at him. Her eyes were guarded, shoulders braced. Latham’s stomach dropped, those five words blasting a hole through his heart.
“No, last night was perfect. You were perfect, we were perfect,” he insisted.
“Latham,” she sighed. “We were both hurting. We needed the release.”
He was already shaking his head.
“No,” he said more firmly. “We may have needed it but we also needed each other.” He sat up fully, feeling a little too exposed now that he was naked and she was fully dressed.
Her eyes softened, filling with pity. His stomach roiled, nausea building with each second she let slip past without caving.
“I’m sorry, Lath. I thought I was clear. Despite our feelings, we can’t be together that way. Last night was a mistake, I never should’ve let—”
“Stop.” He swung his legs out of bed and quickly pulled on his pants from the day before. They were still caked with mud and blood from the brutal battle. He stood in front of her, laces still undone. “I know what you feel for me, even if you don’t quite know it yet yourself.”
She furrowed her brows, but before she could speak, he went on. “We belong together. I know it. Everyone knows it.” He reached out and placed his hands on her shoulders. “I have waited for you to be ready—I’ve made my feelings clear, and last night was just the start,sæta. You’re scared and that’s okay, but everything will work out.” He smiled and leaned in to kiss her.
Before he could reach her lips, she pulled out of his grasp, glaring at him.
They were almost at eye level given they were about the same height, but it was as though she was looking down on him. She took one deep breath, likely counting to three in her head. It was what she did when she was trying to keep her cool.
He didn’t understand how she could be upset right now. She was the one saying all the wrong things. Her voice was steady when she spoke.
“Let me make two things very clear. First, you do not get to tell me how I feel. Even if I was confused, which I am not, it is not your place to decide for me just because you disagree. Second, I am not scared. I have always made myself very clear about how I feel.
“We are at the very heart of war, our fucking magic was just stripped away and we have no idea how. I cannot let my feelings for you interfere with my role. I cannot have you disobeying my orders because the lines of our relationship are blurred.”
He was more than willing to put her life above everyone else’s. She didn’t love him as much as he loved her, but he was going to change that. He would show her how he could support her during this war—that when he challenged her, it was to push her to greatness, not to disobey her.
She was wrong. He wasn’t a hindrance.
“Latham, I’m sorry but I have to go now.” She moved away, but he grabbed her hand.
“You’re right. I’m sorry, I should’ve known you weren’t ready. I got excited,” he said, calculating how he could turn this around for himself and make her see how much better life would be if they were together. “This won’t happen again. Not until you ask.” She nodded slowly, some of the tension leaving her shoulders as she exited the tent without another glance.
