Published: October 1, 2008
Some say that love is the most profound of slavery. If
thats true, would the removal of such feelings be freedom?
I beg to differ. To explain, Ill have to start at the
I met the man destined to become my soul mate when I was
nineteen. I and a few others encountered the Magus on our
quest to rescue a friend from her abductor. He decided
that we had means that could help him find his beloved
sister, ones he obviously did not. But that didnt mean he
enjoyed our company. For some reason, at that time, he
found me particularly distasteful. He scorned me for my
fear of my inherent abilities; he insulted my intelligence;
he mocked my lack of feminity.
That first ten years of our acquaintance I came perilously
close to hating that man. And most of that time he wasnt
even present. After Sara had been rescued each of us went
back to our respective worlds and lives. Every time I
quailed from that power granted to me, his sneering face and
scornful voice would come to my mind. Unknowingly he forced
me to face that which terrified me, and conquer it.
My thirtieth birthday approached before I saw him again.
Neither of us had changed much in appearance or attitude.
Especially him. A quest once more swooped us up and sent us
on another rescue mission. Magus, unlike our previous trip,
almost always went out of his way to avoid me
and yet when
he couldnt, his eyes watched me with an unsettling
intensity. And his surface thoughts gave me nothing to
even build a hunch on.
Finally, unable to take it anymore, I cornered him and
demanded a reason behind his strange behavior. He stared
at me for a long moment, frustration coming to the forefront
of his mind. Frustration at not being able to say the
easiest three words. I waited patiently for his answer.
Thats one thing about him; you couldnt pressure him into
Eventually he asked me how I felt about him. That took me
by surprise. How I felt about Magus? I hadnt really
thought about it. I didnt exactly dislike him anymore. I
was more grateful to him than anything else; he having made
me come to grips with my telepathy thus turning a weakness
into a strength. I told him that I did care for him. Of
course I did. I cared for all my friends and he was counted
among them now. At that point he fell silent then reached
out to gently touch my cheek. He told me that he thought he
had fallen in love with me.
Love? I wondered if I had heard him right. Magus? In love?
With me, of all people? I have to admit my brain halted
right then and there. How could he have fallen for me? Ten
years before the only feeling he held for me was disdain.
And me? What did I feel? Seeing his anxious expression, I
finally decided that I had fallen for him too.
I suppose most women when first finding out that the
feelings of love are mutual would throw their arms around
their significant other and kiss him like there would be no
tomorrow. I didnt, I couldnt. The scars on my soul were
still too raw, too deep for that contact. And Sir Magus,
King of the Mystics, was hardly used to such positive
emotions. Also I believe he sensed that such things would
scare me off.
Our courtship lasted twelve or so years, our physical
relationship never going beyond teenage level. The first
time he kissed me
I ran away. It took many months before I
gathered the courage to kiss him in return. One night I
finally told him what had occurred when I was thirteen. It
was hard. I had to remember the pain, the fear, the shame.
But I knew I needed to tell him, to let him know why I had
never progressed beyond holding hands, gentle embraces, and
mild kisses. Why I hurt, what had caused the never healing
scars on my soul.
His silence scared me. Had I lost his regard, his affection
with the revelation of my past? The shock I felt cannot be
described in words as I found his strong arm around my
waist, a hand tangled in my hair and his lips against mine.
His voice eventually made it through the fog, telling me he
.damaged parts and all. Then he asked me to become
his wife. A part of me shrank from the idea. With
marriage came the physical relationship that went leagues
beyond what I had experienced. But the other part wanted to
be with the man that not only accepted but wanted me for who
and what I was. I heard myself accepting and seeing the
rare smile that crossed his face. How could I refuse him?
His entire life had been centered around finding his beloved
.and yet he was putting that aside for me. And I
did love him with everything I had.
We ended up eloping without a word to anyone. He being a
prince (never mind that his kingdom was long since
destroyed) and I a princess, there would be far too much
pomp and circumstance for our tastes. Not to mention it
would take forever to plan. There were other considerations
as well, but they were minor in comparison.
We spent our wedding night in a secluded shelter away from
prying eyes. He turned his gaze upon me, a hungry look in
his eyes, a look that I recognized. As we began to explore
each other, I surrendered myself to the feelings and
sensations his hands, lips and tongue left in their wake.
If I thought about it, my nerve would falter and I wouldnt
be able to go on. I gradually became more bold and
eventually returned the passionate caresses. It wasnt
until he had shed all of his clothing that I recalled my
fear. The last time I had seen a naked man in that state of
arousal had been 29 years before
and it was the monster that
had raped me.
Magus paused and watched me. He could feel my fear. He
told me that we didnt have to do anything. He was willing
to sacrifice his own pleasure for my comfort. I nearly
took him up on his offer
but something stopped me. He
offered all he had to me, including his mind and innermost
thoughts and feelings. I opened my mouth to tell him that
I was scared
scared of him, scared of me. He took me into
his arms and just sat there gently stroking my hair. My
skin shivered as his fingers trailed down my spine, and I
hungrily covered his mouth with my own. If my reaction
surprised him, he didnt show it. After that there was no
fear, only heated passion.
The tales (those that good boys and girls shouldnt read)
describe that the first time with your lover is a magical
experience and everything goes right. Ill let you know
right now that its a lie. Granted, it was a wonderful
time, but between my fear and both our inexperience, it was
more awkward than graceful. I wouldnt trade that night for