Inspired by an OTP question list found on Pinterest. My dear cousin Winter Starcatcher and I bounced prompts and ideas with our wonderful Ranger's Apprentice couples. Enjoy!
First up: Halt and Pauline.
The inside of Halt's cloak meowed. Pauline arched a graceful eyebrow. "Who's that?" She inquired, gesturing towards her husband's chest.
Halt winced and reluctantly shifted his mottled cloak, revealing a tiny, tabby kitten. "The awful thing followed me home," he groused, holding the kitten away from his body as if it had personally wronged him.
Pauline smirked. "Interesting. How did it end up in your cloak?" The blonde woman glanced out the water speckled window of their apartment before continuing, "It wouldn't have to do with all this rain, would it?"
"Of course not!" Halt replied indignantly. "The stupid thing kept trying to trip me. I'd still be trying to get home if I hadn't picked it up to get it out of the way." He glared disdainfully at the tabby kitten, who gave another pitiful meow in response.
"Of course," Pauline said seriously, only her Courier's training keeping her from grinning. She tilted her head before continuing in a thoughtful tone, "I suppose that means we have to find a home for it. Alyss might be willing to take it, or possibly Jenny. She was complaining about a mouse..."
"No!" Halt said hurriedly. At Pauline's knowing look, he hastily continued, "Er, I don't want to force its annoying presence on anyone else. I suppose we have to keep it. Only because I don't want it burden anyone with how terrible it is."
Pauline shook her head and allowed herself a small smile. Her husband was such a softy. "Of course, dear. That's the only reason."
"What a cold morning!" Pauline said airily as she entered her and her husband's apartment. Halt was seated at his desk, reading over the Battleschool report that Will had filled in earlier that week.
"Indeed," the Ranger answered in a distracted tone as he flipped the paper over. With a mischievous smile, Pauline lightly walked over to where Halt was seated. Without any further talk, she abruptly placed her cold hands on the back of his neck. Halt responded with a violent flinch, his shoulders drawing up in an unconscious attempt to spare himself from the cold.
"I can barely feel my hands after only crossing the courtyard," the Courier replied in a conversational tone, turning her hands over to warm the other side.
Halt gritted his teeth. "Quite so." He hated cold touches with every fiber of his being, but he simply loved Pauline too much to make her stop.
Pauline sighed and removed her hands, then bent down to peck Halt's cheek. "Thank you, dear. I was simply stopping by to grab some papers." As she exited the apartment, the blonde woman gave a small smirk. Her husband was such a stoic man that she enjoyed seeing him slightly uncomfortable. It reminded her of the first time she had met him as a young, stuttering mess, and how she had fallen hopelessly in love with him.
"Honey Bear, have you seen my quill?"
Halt stifled a groan. "I believe in your bag, Pauline."
Pauline rifled through her bag for a second before retrieving the quill in question. "Ah. So it is. Thank you, Pookie."
Halt took a deep breath and closed his eyes. She was messing with him, he knew that. It amused her, made her smirk. He didn't have to react; this wasn't a big deal.
"Snookums, would you be a dear and refill my ink bottle?" Pauline asked as she signed her name at the bottom of her report. "I have three more to finish and I simply won't have enough."
Halt exhaled through his teeth as he took the ink bottle and began to fill it. As he turned away, he missed Pauline's smile. It was a game to her, to see what the most ridiculous thing she could call him was before he broke.
Pauline decided it was time to play her trump. "What shall we have for dinner, Poopsie Doodle?"
Halt slammed the bottle down so hard that ink splashed out. "No." Turning to his wife, he did something that he would never under any circumstances do to anyone else on this world; he pleaded. "Pauline, enough."
Pauline rolled her eyes. "I'm just playing, Halt. But if it really bothers you that much, then yes, I will stop."
Halt gave a sigh of relief, knowing he was safe; that is, until Pauline thought up more nicknames.
Pauline stared into the fire, trying to ease the gnawing discomfort in her chest. Halt was fine; he was smart, he was resourceful, he was brave, he was experienced. He had Will with him. She had nothing to worry about.
She knew when she married him that she would have to deal with her husband being in dangerous situations; he had to deal with the same. Couriers and Rangers were both dangerous occupations to be in, and they had to trust in the other's considerable skills that they would be safe in their line of work.
That didn't mean she had to like it. She knew that she would always worry about him when he was away, worry until he was safely home and she was able to wrap her arms around him and smell his pine and leather scent.
She must have dozed off in front of the fire, because the creaking of the apartment door woke her. She felt her heart swell as the lilting accent that she loved so much reached her ears.
"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to wake you," Halt said softly as Pauline stood. He wasn't able to get any further before she threw herself into his arms.
"I missed you."
It was enough. She didn't have to say anything more. She knew he understood, and finally, the gnawing in her chest eased.
Given the choice, Halt preferred to go to bed early. It wasn't always possible when he was out in the field, due to traveling times and night watches. It often wasn't even possible when he had apprentices, between the pranks and having to stay up with them when they were sick as dogs.
So when he finally moved into his own apartment with Pauline, well, he was going to take advantage of it. His idiot apprentices teased him ("We know you can't help it. Old people need their beauty sleep."), but he knew better. Going to bed earlier was crucial to staying in good enough condition to fight at peak efficiency.
Pauline, on the other hand, would sometimes get so caught up in her work that she would forget that she did indeed need to sleep. She could go for hours, filling out paper after paper with only candles lighting her desk. It was these nights that Halt would pad his way over from the bed, and with a gentle touch to her arm, remind her that she couldn't go forever.
Halt would wait while she arranged her papers and blow out her candles, then walk her to bed. Her reports would still be there in the morning.
This is half of the prompts. Would you like to see the other half for Halt and Pauline? Move on to the next couple? Move on from these altogether?
Reviews inspire me and help me to improve.
-TrustTheCloak