Title: To the Rescue
Fandom: Honor Harrington Series - David Weber
Rating: PG
Length: ~450
Content notes: Pre Honor/Andrew this time ... set in the early part of Ashes of Victory
Author notes: Another AU scene, and probably OOC for the Graysons as well, but it kind of wrote itself. Not currently connected to any of the other ficlets I've posted either here or on my journal.
Summary: The gala celebrating her "resurrection" was probably inevitable.


"Andrew, go and rescue your steadholder, for the Tester's sake."

Andrew almost flinched at the sound of his Protector's voice behind him, and then cursed himself for his reaction.

"Sir?"

He turned slightly, one eye still on Honor, who wore a carefully tailored gown that de-emphasized the loss of her arm, and somehow managed to make Nimitz's carrier look elegant. She'd refused to leave the 'cat behind.

"Andrew. I thought you knew about her ability to read emotions. Look at them both. She needs you as a buffer for a bit."

Her armsman finally took the risk of looking at his liege-lady more closely. He'd been avoiding it for weeks, trying to deny the way his feelings churned when he thought of her.

She'd been swallowed up by events, and he'd been left trailing in her wake slightly. He knew she was injured. Tired. Looking at her closely, he finally noticed the tell-tale signs of strain. Her cheekbones, collarbone, and shoulders stood out in sculpted relief because she held herself just a bit more taut than necessary. And when one of the other Steadholders passed behind her just a bit closer than normal, Andrew noticed the tiny flicker of suppressed muscle movement as Honor squashed the urge to flinch.

His mind made up, Andrew bowed his thanks to his Protector and began moving through the crowd politely but with a purpose.

"May I have this dance, my lady?"

Honor started slightly, but then the unparalyzed side of her face crooked into a smile.

"Andrew?"

He leaned down over her hand, bowing as was expected. As he rose, his face coming close to hers for a brief moment he whispered, "you push yourself too hard, my lady. Let me give you a moment to compose yourself."

He'd had more than a year to learn to compensate for her missing arm, and she relaxed into the dance, no longer having to constantly adjust for the other dancer as she'd had for most of the evening.

As Andrew gracefully guided them around you another couple, she sighed. "Thank you. I hadn't realized how much time I was spending compensating."

"You never do, my lady - you give everyone else what they need, but what about what you need?"

She flushed and looked downward toward their feet. "It's my duty, Andrew.”

"And my duty is to prevent you from over-extending yourself."

"Andrew!", but she was still smiling, and he segued into the next dance, and she kept dancing with him.

Benjamin smiled from the niche he'd occupied; both at his wives as they danced together, and Honor as she finally relaxed into her armsman's arms. He'd have to see what he could do to encourage that.