Framed only by the quivering candlelight that illuminated their bedchamber so late at night, Rue felt that darkness would not be held at bay for long enough.

“Won't you... belong to me for just a short while, my wholehearted prince?” She rested a hand against  Siegfried's cheek and pushed, giving him no choice but to look down at her. No choice but to see everything that was in her eyes, desperation and a love that she wished to be pure and a hot agony that threatened to overwhelm her, but whether she would be brought to her knees or bring him to his with its power could not have been said.

“Rue...” He breathed, froze, gasped, “Rue, we belong to each other... I know we do.”

He understood what she wished for, though she almost did not wish to believe that he did, for it was such a shameful thing. It was the taint in her, she wanted to say; she was sorry for it. Yet it made her need him, even now. He should not have to understand such a dreadful truth.

But it was his own eyes, the fathomless gold rich with curiosity, that told her otherwise. He did understand, for he shared that taint with her. He wanted to know what she couldn't say, what she had taken so long to tell him. After an instant, she knew she needed to receive that knowledge from him again, and so she forced their lips together, reaching further into him than she ever had with her tongue and allowing him to appreciate the taste of her. When she left him, his mouth did not close, and his gaze was deeply misted, emotions buried in impulse.

Yet he was still, waiting for her to speak.

She closed her own eyes and felt her fingers wander, felt his tenderly strong grip settling over her hands to guide them as she slipped his shirt over his head. With her lips trembling now, she kissed over his heart.

“I... I want to love you, my prince...”

His tone was strung low in an strange thrall, and his invitation seemed almost to be a statement of unknown need, “Yes... As you never have...” He shivered, acutely aware of the slight press of her nails as her arms slid upward, following his spine to twine her fingers in his downy hair. “Rue, what is...?”

“Shh... I'll show you...” She did not know what she would be showing him, but as she leaned forward to lead him onto his back on their bed, she believed she would take pleasure in it at last. He strengthened her delight with another gasp, this one warmer, as she began to learn details of his form that she had never known before. He felt her discoveries, and when she brushed certain places, he often involuntarily voiced his own understanding with quiet, almost musical moans in his delicate timbre. The only thing that did not surprise him was how gently she went over him, because he knew, even in this blurred state of heart, that his princess was one who had always desired to be gentle.

When she was done with him, when she was feeling his heaving underneath her and his hands running through her sweat-laced hair, he spoke. “Rue... My princess.”

She watched his mouth curve into a smile and traced it with the tip of her finger, before placing her head against his chest. She relaxed, enjoying the silky sheets directly against her spine, which rippled smoothly as he began to stroke his hands along her back. She could relax, because she had been with him, without hurting him. The days when she would have been so cruel were no longer with either of them.