Ranger's Apprentice: The Tantalizing Tales

Don't Let Go My Hand

In which Will and Alyss seem to have developed a new language.

~~~

Officially, Pauline had taught Alyss to always keep both her hands above the table and in full sight during meetings. People on the other side of the conversation tended to be more comfortable that way, and comfortability was always important if you were trying to make them agree with you.

Also officially, if any such meetings were in the presence of a superior, or a Baron, for that matter, it was of the utmost importance that such rules and etiquette were adhered to closely.

Unofficially, if her husband just so happened to be seated to her left, and the superior was technically her mentor, and the other attendee was technically her husband's mentor and her own mentor's husband, and the present Baron was technically their warden and among the closest friends of her and her husband's mentors, and she didn't have to try to make anyone agree with her -- then surely it would be okay if one of her hands wasn't in full sight for the entirety of the meeting?

In fact, Alyss was quite certain that that was okay. Though the meetings might notarised as being official, they were unofficial in nature. So as long as she was using her right hand to take notes, no one would mind that her left was in her husband's hands.

Will didn't have to take notes. Rangers didn't take notes - not physically, anyhow. Alyss had once remarked how scarily good her husband was at recalling conversations, remembering exactly who had said what. Yeah, Will didn't take notes during meetings like these. (Also, his handwriting was simply illegible, so if he needed them, he would be stealing her notes later anyhow. She knew he would. He always did.)

Instead, his calloused fingers traced along the lines of her palm. It tickled and Alyss could feel a smile forcing its way onto her face. It didn't, of course. Alyss had been trained better than to let a simple tickle break her diplomatic facade. She had no trouble keeping her mind and attention to the meeting, to ask questions, answer others, as her right hand kept scribbling, almost without thinking. Yet there was a small part of her brain - perhaps a fifth or so - that could not tear itself away from what was happening to her left hand.

The touches were careless and yet so careful. Will made it seem so coincidental, so common, as if he was just absent-mindedly caressing his wife's hand. If anyone noticed - and Pauline, Halt, and Arald always did - they would think that he was just stroking her fingers, sunken in thought about the conversation he was contributing to. But Alyss knew that each movement, each contact, each touch, was carefully thought out.

His fingers moved up now, towards her wrist, as if checking her pulse. A pulse that was, Alyss knew, slightly higher than it was normally. Was it because no matter how many times she did these meetings, being in the presence of Pauline, Halt, and Arald, and having to be at her best, still made her a little nervous? Or was it because of her husband's soft and gentle and loving touch?

Oh Gorlog. She really had to stop letting him play with her hand during important meetings. But there was something about how he held her hands that brought great comfort, stability, a sense of calmness. It was addictive and Alyss knew she would go insane if it ever were to stop. Will - his were hands that knew how to hold on. And yet they always set her free.