bakerstreet | Soulmates

Soulmates

soulmate meme ;
▸ post your character ◂
▸ you're now in a universe where destined soul mates exist! ◂
▸ rng for the type of au and for the ~situation~ ◂
▸ tag around ♥ ◂

type of au;

1. tats, your character has a tattoo of the first words the love of their life will say to them
2. familiars, your character has an animal tattoo representing their soul mate on them
3. glow, the first time your character sees their soul mate, their chests glow!
4. world in color, life is literally black and white, until you see your soul mate for the first time
5. choose your own, i'm definitely missing a milly because i'm lazy, pick your own

situation;

1. first meeting, you've never met this person before.
2. childhood mates, you've always known this person -- but on one particular birthday, everything changes.
3. together, you've been in a relationship for awhile now! happily wed or not, you decide.
4. not together, you've known you're soul mates for a long time, and yet have avoided a relationship.
5. choose your own, self explanatory c:

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only | Expand All

"You'll not have to wear one when we get to my home. Not unless you want to. Though, the corsets of where I live are completely different creatures than these things. They're for aesthetic reasons. Most of them don't even have boning or are able to stand up to a tight lace."

He answered that for her without knowing she wanted the information, but women and fashion seemed like something that was just as paired together as men and wanting what women offered.

"I think propriety can be damned if you want it to. I'd like to see someone claim impropriety about you while I'm within earshot." A firm line to his mouth declared that such a comment wouldn't do the party any good for their health.

"If I don't have a corset, my waist won't be trim enough for gowns. I'll have to let all of mine out."

It isn't necessarily a problem as it is far more comfortable to simply wear a chemise and a gown over wearing a corset and a chemise but Sansa isn't certain she likes the idea of going without some sort of structure beneath her dresses. Besides, someone might see the outline of her breasts without it.

"Is this one of those things I will have to put faith in you to understand when I see it for myself?"

"Sansa," he said, moving so that his hands were careful, but they touched along her side and gave a light squeeze. "Your waist is more than trim for any gown. And where we're going, you won't need to let anything out. You look perfect as you are. No cinching required. If you like, I can alter this gown so that you can wear it without a corset, but if you insist on one, I won't fight you over it. Just state that as a doctor, I can tell you that corsets are harmful to the human body when worn over time. Particularly during certain times of a woman's life."

He'd seen the drastic cases of the morphism caused to bodies that had been extremely corseted, much like the way certain cultures rituals and dress changed their bodies. Feet binding for the older Chinese class, and the elongated necks of Kayan women. Without the rings, their necks had lost stability, and he'd found himself forcing not to show a reaction when he'd had to deal with an elderly Chinese woman who'd come in for treatment to her leg and he'd seen the effects of bound feet. Poor things.

"I'll show you all the different forms of fashion when we get to my home. There's so much variety, I dare say it will take you a year or more to find your own style."

"Oh, well, I suppose I could go without then. It isn't as if we are going to be at Winterfell long and this gown is made of heavy velvet," Sansa says, considering it for a moment. "I could go without being laced in. It will be much more comfortable than wearing that corset, that's for certain."

Sansa thinks for a moment. "You wouldn't have to help me get dressed, then, if I'm not wearing it. It won't take me very long. If you would excuse me?"

Breakfast finished, Sansa retrieves her dress to go and slip it on, finding that it doesn't even look as if she'd run through the woods yesterday at all. Once it's on, she busies herself with brushing out her hair.

"It won't take me long to braid it," Sansa assures him, coming back out to the front room. "Or I could leave it down."

He watches her exit the bedroom, smiling as he comes over and lifts a hand to touch just the edge of her air. He's still being careful with her, not wanting to startle her or make her feel she has no autonomy. "I like it down like this. You look lovely."

"Then down it is," Sansa says, smiling a little. "Perhaps I am a bit vain about my hair but I think it is one of my better features."

Other people might say other things are better but Sansa has always thought her hair is one of the lovelier things about her and knowing that it pleases Rowan makes her happy. She isn't used to positive attention like this that doesn't have a poisonous catch attached to it.

"I'm ready if you are."

"Then we'll go." Rue had already managed to open the door, clever fox, and was waiting outside for them. Rowan led her out and once she was clear of the door, he zipped the tent shut and started taking it down. It was a simple thing, and it rolled up neatly into what looked like any other small tent cachet that he nudged into a holder on his backpack. The backpack itself didn't quite fit in with his older fashioned clothes, but as he wasn't leaving it behind, he didn't mind so much.

"Lead the way, brat. And don't go through any thickets. It'll catch her dress," he said to the fox, who promptly darted off. Rowan held his arm out to Sansa to assist in their stroll to the tear that led to her lands.

The fox, to his credit, did pick a path that was mostly clear of brambles and thick foliage and the trees seemed to part for them almost, making their way to Winterfell quite easy. At a certain point, the temperature began to drop and the trees changed from green and brown to blood red and white.

Weirwoods.

"We're back in the weirwood grove," Sansa says. "If we keep going this way, we should make our way back to Winterfell proper." Sansa doesn't know if people are looking for her but she imagines at least someone is; it isn't her nature to wander off for any amount of time.

When she ends up in the castle bailey, her men announce her presence and bow to her in deference. Her hand, Lord Manderly, approaches her and comes to touch her shoulder lightly in his grandfatherly way.

"You gave us a fright, your Grace. Did this young man find you in the woods?"

There's a strange part of him that bristles as the elder man touches her shoulder. He wants to bat it away, but this is not his land, not his people, and she's not showing any signs of distress.

So... this is apparently just the possessiveness of a mated male. Lovely. He's never really experienced jealousy before, not having had anyone he cared enough to be jealous over. He's not entirely thrilled with it.

He doesn't touch the elder, but he does crook a brow at him. "She found herself in my woods, child. And I found her suitable."

Lord Manderly gives him a look that is both questioning and troubled and Sansa leans in and kisses his cheek. Perhaps other queens wouldn't be so close to their hands but Lord Manderly is the closest she has to a father now and she wishes to soothe his feathers before anything gets too tense.

"There is much to explain, my lord hand. I have met one of the Old Gods in our woods," she says. "And we have edicts to issue. Will you call everyone to the throne room to hear them?"

Lord Manderly looks even more confused and looks at Rowan as if he's trying to decide if he's a god or not but then he bows and assures Sansa that he will call the banners and have everyone gather for her. Sansa turns to look at Rowan.

"We'd better get going," she says, touching his hand lightly. "You remember the plan, yes?"

"I do. And I'll wait until they're all assembled. I imagine I might cause chaos walking around without my glamour." He could just imagine it now. The lands reminded him very strongly of the human world before technology had started to creep into human minds. It bothered him to be thinking of these people as 'lesser', but the backward step from even Underhill to here had him glad his people seem to be tied to the other Earth, not this one.

Though... there was certainly magic in the ground. Much more strongly than in the Earth he'd take her to.

Sansa nods in agreement. It takes a while to gather all of her lords in the throne room and once she has, she takes her place at the Winter Throne, Rowan at her right side.

"I have brought you all together to tell you that I have been chosen for a holy pursuit by one of our Old Gods, Rowan of the Weirwoods," Sansa says, motioning toward Rowan. He is still glamoured but he will remove it when the time is right, she thinks, so she continues.

"As this will take me from Winterfell, I decree that Jon Stark will be my successor and he will be returned from exile beyond the Wall and installed as your King in the North once more."

There's a riot from the crowd and Sansa speaks over them, holding up a hand. "Silence. Your God has yet to speak."

He didn't miss this part, but when the crowd started to raise their voices, and he detected some of the voices holding more than ire, he dropped his glamour, some small magic making his voice reverberate for the single word he barked out. "Silence!"

He waited, watching eyes turn to him, watching people fall, some kneeling, some fleeing. His hand came out to take hers, holding it gently. "I have been longing for a mate for longer than any of you have thought of breath. I have finally found one worthy. Her consent has been given, and that is the only word that matters in this discussion, barring mine."

He hated adding that last part, but for the men sizing him up, he knew his word mattered more than hers.

There's a feverish murmuring at the idea of being the mate of an Old God but mostly the room falls silent. Lord Manderly begs for leave to speak and Sansa grants it. She feels that he will support her in this and she has faith that he will support Jon being king once again.

"We have supported our queen even before she was our queen. If a woman of House Stark is chosen as the mate of one of our Old Gods made manifest, we are bound to fulfill the decree issued by her to retrieve her brother to become our king once more. Pledge your allegiance to the Queen in the North once more and the King in the North yet to come."

Now the crowd does just that, chanting her title and Jon's title to be, and Sansa lets out a breath she didn't know she was holding. She holds up a hand once again.

"I consider the matter concluded. I have to leave before we install the new king but Lord Manderly will have the throne in my stead. If there is any thought of rebellion, know that the gods will retaliate swiftly."

Sansa does not believe that to be true since Rowan isn't actually a god but it is a threat strong enough to keep any ambitious lords in check. She reaches for Rowan's hand and squeezes it.

"I think that's done," she says quietly.

"Good," he says, dimming himself and slipping his glamour back on. There's a thread of control that's still frayed and he finds his eyes not wanting to be covered yet. Perhaps there's a reason for it. Either way, he leaves it be and Rue keeps close between the pair of them as he squeezes her hand back. "Now, if there's anything you want to take with you, I suggest we gather it. Anything and everything. And if you have missives you'd like to leave, take the time to do so. We may be able to come back at some time, but I don't tend to make plans on the capriciousness of Underhill allowing the tear to remain. Or maybe adding more. Take the time to say goodbye to your siblings and your people, Sansa. I'm not going anywhere without you."

"I cannot wait for my siblings to return. It could be months. The best I can do is leave them letters for when they arrive," Sansa says. She does not want to wait months for her new life to begin even if she is nervous about leaving everything she's ever known to go somewhere she's never been before.

"There are certain things I need to bring. Will it be possible to bring one trunk with me? I do not know how much we will be able to carry but I would like to bring my sewing and my harp."

Dresses can be left behind as she can always make them anew but she will want her coronation gown along with her needles and thread and current embroidery. No matter where she goes, she will want to sew.

"Darling, I have a portable home rolled up on my back. We can take everything in your rooms if you please. I want you to be comfortable, and having things from home, whether you use them or not, will ease you. One trunk, five, a dozen. It matters not. Only your happiness."

He could almost feel the nervousness and anxiety thrumming through the bond that hadn't solidified yet.

"I should have thought of that," Sansa says, blush coloring her cheeks. Still, she does not want to take terribly much. His home is different from Winterfell, from what she understands, so she does not think she will need so very many things from home when she goes with Rowan.

Still, she goes to her chambers and packs a trunk with her most precious things. It does not take her long. The thing that takes her a long time is writing letters to each of her siblings and when she is finished, she is crying.

"I know there might be a way to see them again," she says softly. "But I know I will miss them."

"Leave an addendum that you'll attempt to come back. We can try once a year, an anniversary of sorts, to bring you home to visit. Or every five. If Underhill is feeling kind, perhaps it will allow us that. I don't want to remove you entirely, but it's not going to take long for your siblings and others to recognize you've not aged since the last time they saw you. I don't want your people frightened of you."

For the long term, it wouldn't work, but at least for a year from now, he could give her a meeting with her siblings to say goodbye in person. He lifted his hand and wiped at her cheeks, brushing away her tears. "If I could make it easier on you, I would."

"No, I will not be able to come back. Once we consummate, I will no longer age, and I imagine I won't be afraid of that forever. I already enjoy your touch even though it is not that sort of touch. I do not think it will take very long."

Sansa takes a deep breath to steel herself.

"No, this must be goodbye. This must be final."

"I'm content to do whatever makes you more at ease, dove." He unpacked the tent, closing her chamber doors to avoid looky-loos, then opened the tent into the cottage, bringing her trunk into it to tuck into the sitting room for her to have on hand when he brought them home.

"Do you want to stay for a last meal, or would you like to leave now?"

"No, we should take our leave. The longer we are here, the quicker I will lose my resolve, I am afraid, and I do not think you would be very happy here."

No, Winterfell is not the place for someone like Rowan who doesn't seem as if he would thrive in the deep snows and ice. She has to say goodbye to her home for the final time and she feels it best to snip the thread quickly and not let it fray over time.

"We should make our way to your more permanent home."

He was born in Winter, raised in the Winter Court, but Underhill had such a slapdash of seasons and lands, he never had to freeze if he didn't want to. Still, he preferred the sun. Enjoyed the ocean, and he wondered what she'd think of it, considering it didn't seem like much of a view from what he'd seen of Winterfell so far.

"If you'd like." He was quiet for a moment, hand lifting to let his fingers glide through her hair. "I'm not going to say I'm sorry for this, because I'm not. I found you, and that means more to me, but I am sorry if you're saddened."

"I think it is always sad to leave one's home," Sansa says, leaning into his comfort for the moment. His comfort feels better than any other she's ever received in her life and she wonders if it is because she is so bereft of touch or if it is because he is her mate. It doesn't matter. He comforts her.

"But I want to leave and be with you. I have never had nothing of my very own before, not since I was too small to understand the significance of such things. Also, I feel it will be easier to be...intimate in a place that is not Winterfell. As much as this is my home, it was once my prison and the place I was broken."

Which, of course, made him want to obliterate the place. He wondered what room she'd been tortured in so he could set fire to it. But stone and fire were rarely compatible, and it wasn't his rage to quell. It was hers.

He let his thumb trace under her cheekbone, looking into soft blue eyes and smiling. "As you like. Then let's be on our way. The sooner we're in my land, the sooner we can sort out how to make it yours."

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject