bakerstreet | Always a sap for arranged marriage AUs

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Always a sap for arranged marriage AUs

Arranged Marriage Turned More

To have and to hold, you said, till death do us part, all while the sharp, swinging pendulum of obligation hung overhead. But how could you have truly meant those words? This union has been tainted from the start, forever bearing the chains of an arranged marriage. It would be understandable if you couldn't bear to look at your new life partner, eternal reminder of your stolen future that they are, much less like them.
Much less love them...

Still, things can change.

You could realize that they are in the same boat as you or, that when compared to others around you,
they are the lesser of evils. Perhaps you even open up to the idea of a friendship; at the very least,
an alliance may be in order to become a power couple in a perilous world. From that innocent decision or sense of self-preservation, a new feelings sparks. Something like affection.

Something, you realize in the wake of speeding heartbeats, like love.

Will you acknowledge this? Can the two of you have a happily ever after - happier than if you'd met in another fashion - or will you hold firm in your distaste?

how to play.

- Everybody loves "couples forged by less-than-ideal circumstances" tropes!
- Comment with your character, prefs, all that good stuff.
- Reply to others.
- IDEC where you set your threads, it's wide open. Fantasy world with hairy hobbits, old-timey lands, future AUs, do a space marriage for all I care. I'm sure they're still getting married in Star Wars or whatever.

POSSIBLE REASONS FOR MARRIAGE:
① Station → You come from a royal, noble, or otherwise distinguished family who has chosen a suitable spouse for you.
② Feud → You are being married to put an end to the bitter enmity between your two families.
③ Economics → Your economic state and/or your station will improve through the union, though one of you may be marrying down.
④ Empire → You and your spouse are merging your businesses and/or property to create something more influential or profitable.
⑤ Tribute → You have been offered as a gift or appeasement, alternately you're the spoils of war.
⑥ Bloodline → Carrying on your distinguished family name has fallen to you and the equally well-bred spouse of your family's selection.
⑦ Disapproval → Your marriage has been arranged to keep you away from the person with whom you truly wish to be.

POSSIBLE SCENARIOS:
① First meeting → This is the very first time you're meeting your future spouse.
② Courtship → To get to know each other and encourage affection, your family has approved of you going on dates.
③ Engagement party → Be it a huge, formal affair or a small, intimate get together, you're celebrating (or pretending).
④ Wedding day → The big day!
⑤ Reception → The big party!
⑥ Wedding night → Every meme needs a smut prompt, right?
⑦ Honeymoon → Where will you go with your new spouse and what will you do there?

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[ ota AUs + crosscanons. m/f. ]

[ sun queen au pLEASE i need it. ]

[ Sheik is male and a separate character from Zelda. ]

(Post Twilight Princess, where Zelda is working to reunite the kingdom after Ganondorf’s and Zant’s attack.)

[All scenarios 2, 5 and 7 strong prefs for reason.]

[I'm especially fond of reason prompts 2, 5, and 7, but most are workable. On scenarios, prompts 1 and 2 are good, but also flexible here.

For the curious, Olivia is a shy dancer who can be a bit self-deprecating, but is genuine about her feelings and cares deeply about those she would consider close.]

[ooc: How does 1/3/6 for the reasons (as well as prophecy) on the wedding night? She could be joining him and Elia as one of "the heads of the dragon", or perhaps they are betrothed and he never married Elia. Also, are they already in love, or will they begin to? ]

[ sure! c: i'd be interested in either of those prompts, actually, if you have a preference! i do love having to work through the awkwardness of not being immediately in love, but at the same time, i'm happy with just about anything if you feel strongly one way or the other! ]

Lyanna Stark had loudly and vehemently objected to marrying Robert Baratheon from the very start. He drank too much, spent much of his coin in brothels, and had already fathered one bastard child. Her sweet brother Ned loved his friend, and believed that Robert would mature, but Lyanna knew better.

So when her father told her that negotiations had changed and that she would he expected to marry Rhaegar Targaryen, he told her in an icy tone that she best not complain. Rhaegar was not a drunkard and had fathered no bastards that anyone knew of. On top of that, Lyanna would one day be queen. It was not something she had ever fathomed...after all, no Stark had ever married a a Targaryen. She would be the first. The smug look on her father's face told her he was quite pleased with himself.

Half the realm seemed to be crammed into King's Landing when House Stark arrived. Brandon had wanted to come, but her father instructed him to stay behind. After all, there must always be a Stark in Winterfell, and her father had a role in her wedding: he would be giving her away.

Since her mother had passed away years ago, handmaids from the castle helped to scrub her clean, comb out her tangled hair, and dress her in silks. Her gown was gray silk with long, dagged sleeves and fine embroidery across the bodice and along the hems. It was all done in shimmering silver thread and seed pearls -- tiny wolves and weirwood leaves and snowflakes could be made out. Lyanna's long, dark hair was twisted half up into a stylish chignon secured with silver pins, while the rest fell over her shoulders. A delicate veil of lace covered her face and trailed down her back.

It was all beautiful, yes, but very cumbersome, and did not allow her to move freely. Of course, this very marriage was robbing her of her freedom, so what did it matter? Her eyes stung, but she forced her chin up, refusing to cry. After all, things could always be worse...at least Rhaegar was not Robert.

As Rickard Stark walked his daughter down the aisle of the Great Sept, Lyanna could not help wonder if Rhaegar would recognize her. Unbeknownst to everyone else, Rhaegar had stumbled upon her secret, and discovered her to be the Knight of the Laughing Tree at Harrenhal. Being a prince, she was sure he had more pressing matters, and had likely forgotten all about her...

[ooc: sorry for the length! Let me know if you need or would like anything changed -- I'm very flexible.]

[ likewise sorry for the length! cx and please feel free to let me know if anything needs to be changed on my end! ]

He was to marry a Stark? This was not the match Rhaegar had expected of his ambitious father. And yet, it made perfect sense, didn’t it? The North had always been vast and unruly; securing their fealty with a marriage was the surest way to keep that farthest of kingdoms in the fold. The same could’ve been said for Dorne, where he knew his father had been looking for a bride of sufficient political clout. There had been a search across the sea, too; in lieu of a sister for him to marry, there would perhaps be a suitable woman of Valyrian blood to keep the dragons’ lineage halfway pure. No such woman had been found, and when he was informed that he was to wed Rickard Stark’s daughter, in a tone of grave finality, he knew he should bow his head and be grateful. The Starks were an ancient and noble house, though they were made of ice instead of fire. Cold and superstitious, he’d been told, and merciless on the field of battle. His wife would be steadfast and loyal, at the least, and his father’s realm would know some semblance of stability.

Lyanna Stark, who was herself a knight, he had not forgotten. A secret they had kept between the two of them, and as soon as it was her name that was laid before him, he could not help the flare of that old memory. The dark-haired Stark girl, defending the crannogman out of nothing more than the kindness of her heart. She had taken justice into her own hands and delivered it. He’d been more than a little startled then – that willowy girl encased in motley armor, chastising knights who should have easily vanquished her – and he wondered if she had ever forgiven him for stumbling upon her. The fiasco of the ‘mystery’ knight had sent his father raving, demanding that the fugitive warrior be revealed. Now she would be captured, so much later, though not as anyone would expect.

King’s Landing was a turbulent sea of excitement, half the realm teeming through its streets, and lords and ladies beyond counting gathered in the sept. She would come with her father, he knew, with her mother passed and her brother helming Winterfell in Rickard’s absence. She had come a tremendous distance and would soon be left here alone; her father would give her away, and she would take her place in the Red Keep as the future queen. A home that was nothing like her own, and he wondered if she had come in sorrow. Did the promise of a crown make all the rest bearable? Did she want to be queen? He hardly knows his own mood: bleak, with the future cast in a darkness he cannot pierce. Anxious, for how can he know if he will please his lady wife? Uncertain, terribly uncertain: what if she feels herself trapped? What if they bring nothing to the realm but mute despair?

Then she arrives, in silks of gray that are adorned with pearls glimmering in the light, and a veil shielding her face. Dark hair pooled past her shoulders and down her back, with the rest gathered at the back of her head, and she held her chin high, unafraid. Unwilling to let herself be seen as afraid, anyway, and he waits in silence, clad in onyx from his shoulders down to his heels. A black doublet and a black cloak, black breeches and black boots, the black only broken by blood-red buttons and the three-headed silver dragon that pinned his cloak. Just as silver was the hair that fell to his shoulders, and he watched with lilac eyes as she was escorted down the aisle. The gods were watching, too, no doubt, and he held his hands behind his back, keeping himself as steady as the surface of a lake.

He had yet to see her in silks, and he glimpses the sparkle of wolves, weirwood leaves, and snow made of so many seed pearls; she wears the North. She is beautiful, as beautiful as she had been in the midst of her fury at Harrenhal, and he cannot help a small smile, dipping his head as she nears.

“We meet again, my lady.”

The music swelled as her father walked her down the aisle, and Lyanna could feel hundreds of eyes on her. Although she was a whirlwind of emotions -- anger, sadness, fear -- she refused to let it show. Chin up, Lya, and keep your expression cool yet neutral. This would be the last time she wore the Stark sigil...and the last time that she would be Lyanna Stark. The direwolf cloak she wore clasped about her shoulders, a family heirloom, would soon be replaced by the three headed dragon of House Targaryen.

As they neared the High Septon, she was better able to see her soon-to-be husband. Rhaegar Targaryen was dressed in his royal House colors, black and red: black doublet, breeches, and boots, with blood red rubies set into buttons and a silver dragon clasp to secure his cloak. He was undeniably handsome -- then again, most Targaryen men were. And the women, such as Queen Rhaella who sat in front, were lovely in an ethereal kind of way.

Lyanna felt a sharp pain on the inside of her arm, and swallowed a yelp. She had begun to tremble without realizing it, and her father had pinched her, reminding her not to disgrace House Stark. Oh, how she missed her mother and wished she were here...please, Mother, send me strength...

After what felt like an eternity, they reached both Rhaegar and the High Septon in his tall crystal tiara. She was given over to the prince, and her father slipped away to sit with her brothers. Rhaegar dipped his head, and Lyanna bent her legs in a curtsey.

"We meet again, my lady."

She looked up sharply, gray eyes wide, and a blush tinged her cheeks. Under different circumstances, it would have been comical. So he did remember. Was this marriage his idea? Had he told anyone else? Lyanna opened her mouth, then promptly shut it. No, now was not the time to demand answers. Instead, she gave him an overly-sweet smile. "So we do, my prince."

The septon took his time, droning on and on about the Seven Gods, and how sacred this joining of two souls was, and of their duty to one another. When the time came, she was asked to turn so that Rhaegar was able to easily remove her cloak -- the symbol of her father's protection -- and replace it with his own, a black cloak with the red three headed dragon of House Targaryen.

A hush fell over their audience as the septon then asked for their hands, binding them together with a length of silk. Rhaegar's hands were warm with callouses, while hers were cool and...perhaps not as soft as a lady's hands should be. When prompted, she repeated her practiced lines: "I am his, and he is mine, from this day until the end of my days..."

Lyanna was certain that just about every girl and woman in attendance -- and perhaps a few men, as well -- would give anything to be standing in her uncomfortable shoes right then. So why did she feel as if she was on the verge of running away and forever disgracing her family? Had she not been physically bound to Rhaegar at that point, maybe she would have.

Instead, she faced her husband, ready for her veil to be lifted and a quick kiss so that all could cheer and move on to the meticulously planned celebration.

She was poised, this young woman who would be his wife, and he admired her grace. Was it made of ice? He could not help but wonder - once it was the two of them alone, after they had sworn themselves to one another before the eyes of gods and men alike, would she become one of the frozen moors the north was said to be made of? Would she speak to him at all? None of this was his design, but he was wise enough to know that did not matter. It was his hand she was being made to take, and his name, and his cloak, and his rule. He might not have chosen her for himself, but he was the one she would be suffered to look upon each day, the hard, cold link of her life that would be the first of many chains. He watched her as she came, and no matter how gentle he was determined to be, he had never felt more like a butcher. There was no blade in his hand and she was not a beast bred for meat, but wasn't a part of her about to be killed, all the same?

His gaze flicked to her father, to whom he also gave a courteous dip of his chin, and he was grateful for the brevity of the exchange. What might he have said? She was not a purse of gold exchanging hands, nor was she a rolled parchment promising peace. He is saved from having to say anything at all, only that quiet greeting to his new bride, and he knew her smile to be fabricated for his benefit. The blush that bloomed on her cheeks was sincere enough, and he spent a moment regarding her gray eyes, thinking them to be like the soft clouds that gather before a sudden summer storm, and then he turned to the septon. There was much to hear.

They must listen obediently to the piousness of the Seven, they must be humbled by the sanctity of their union, and the binding of their two souls into one. Him and her, a girl he had last seen in ill-fitting armor, who would likely never have thought of him again if her father had not commanded it. Honor, valor and duty. When she was asked to turn so that he might remove her cloak, he did so with gentle hands, stripping her shoulders of that wolf's gray and replacing it with the dragon's onyx black. It would fall to the dragons to protect her now.

Then there was the reverent quiet as they each yielded a hand, and the septon bound them as one. Symbolically, formally, officially, and his heart was heavy and swift in his chest, though he could not have named precisely what he felt. Her hands were small and cool, but not the hands of a lady who sat idle in her tower, knowing only the touch of her sewing needles. No, her hands must have held a horse's reins just as often, and, as he had seen for himself at that fateful tourney, shields and swords. He spoke the words alongside her own, vowing himself hers as she was his, from this day, until the end of his days. Chains.

And yet she was beautiful, and she was a blessing, he knew, or at least he must tell himself. All need not be lost; he would be kind to her. It could be far worse, couldn't it? Was there any man in the hall who would not be delighted to be holding her palm in his own? The ceremony must be finished.

He took half a step forward, held his breath in his chest, and softly lifted the veil that covered her face. They need only seal their vows with a kiss now, and he once more found himself regarding her, taking in the fine curves of her face, and her gray eyes, this woman who had just sworn herself his, and he ducked his head carefully to find her lips. In his head springs an unbidden thought: how many young squires and lordlings had she kissed? Would she resent him for this, even as if it must be done? He brushed his mouth atop her own, felt his heart stutter beneath his royal black raiment, and lingered just long enough to appease the gods, should they look down to see that this union was sealed as it should be.

Lyanna gazed up at Rhaegar through her veil. The prince lifted it, and just for a moment she let all the fierceness of her wolf blood show in those stormy gray eyes. It wasn't smart of her, to be sure, but she felt the desperate need for this man who now controlled her to know that she was not a woman to be ruled over, as the king ruled his mother. I, too, have claws and fangs.

One heartbeat, then two, and she closed her eyes, allowing him to kiss her. It was just long enough to be proper, and all around them the Great Sept erupted with cheers and applause. Turning, she looked for her family: shy Ned, smiling nervously, and young Benjen with a grin. And her father...she had made him so happy and proud with this marriage, it was almost worth sacrificing her own wishes for his approval.

Everyone invited to the wedding made their way to the castle for the feast. Already, she was being called 'Princess Lyanna'. It was incredibly jarring. And to think, one day it would be 'Queen Lyanna'...it was hard to process.

Once seated at the table, dish after dish of the finest food in the Seven Kingdoms was brought out. There were many dishes she had never seen before, and under other circumstances, she would be eager to try them. But the thought of the upcoming bedding was enough to unsettle her stomach. Strange men tearing her clothes off...

She shuddered, and instead nursed a single goblet of wine. Perhaps when the time neared, she would gulp a bunch down, and hopefully forget that part.

Rhaegar, now her lord husband, sat next to her. She hadn't been able to say much, what with all the commotion surrounding them. It would be a good idea to try and establish friendly terms now...and to fish for information.

"My prince," she said, leaning close to him, "has anyone discovered the identity of that mystery knight from the tourney?" Her tone was deceptively nonchalant.

[He was engaged via arrangement once upon a time, so this is familiar territory to him. I'm most interested in reasons 1 through 6 and any scenario.]

[I'm interested in every reason except 7, and every scenario except 6.]

[For reasons, I'm up for all except 7. Any scenario is good.]

[ Would you be interested in an AU where Juri wins a duel? ]

[ Yes! That sounds interesting for sure ]

[ It wasn't a surprise, exactly, when she won the duel against Tenjou. The girl was unrefined and sloppy in her technique, even with whatever strange power she had manifested at the end. Juri had taken a grim satisfaction in defeating her, with her absurd fantasy of playing "prince." She had been so proud, prancing around and acting noble and playing dress up, when Juri had suffered for what was in her heart.

What she wasn't prepared for, had barely even given any thought about, was this business of being "engaged." Juri didn't like Himemiya, didn't trust her. Even if she felt ashamed for her outburst of rage when the girl had given her the flower from her memory, that didn't change the fact that she shouldn't have known about it, that she was mocking Juri. Everything about her attitude read as wrong, a pretense thrown up before something else. It was obvious that she wasn't what she appeared to be. This whole business of duels was absurd anyway, she was going to disprove it, show it was sham, there was no such thing as miracles after all.

But now here she is, walking back to her lavishly appointed dorm with the quiet girl in tow, that ridiculous little monkey following around somewhere behind. This certainly wasn't going to help the rumors about her, in any case. Juri's voice is cold is she turns to speak to Himemiya. ]

Is this foolish charade really necessary? I don't see why you have to live with me in order to bestow whatever "power" you're supposed to have.

( m/m. open to any canons, mediums, and ocs. happy to talk situations and cool with writing starters. )

The stranger in black with the eyes red as flames had wandered in from the darksome woods in the depths of winter, half frozen and with all but one fire within him doused from exposure to the elements. But he'd recovered from his ordeal after one night before the hearth in the men's quarters. The elders would have sent the young men with him to bring him back to the outside world, but he'd insisted that he had no place there, though when pressed to explain, he would refuse to tell them more.

In the meantime, he'd applied himself to earning his keep and then some: He'd been tireless in a hunt, running an elk to exhaustion before pulling it down and taking its life to feed the clan, wrestling a bear that had tried to attack the cattle barn. When the time came to send forth one of the eldest into the summer lands and one survived the fall, he assumed the task of ending their final suffering, succeeding on the first blow. He asked them only two things in return: for a pair of dark glasses to hide his eyes and that no one would ask him his name.

He'd seemed like a god come to their enclave, something straight out of the mythic tales of gods and heroes told around the fireside, and a few of the maidens had tried their folk magic on him to get his attention, but he seemed immune to it. The elder women were impressed and murmured that perhaps one of the gods of yore had come to them, a fitting mate for their May Queen.

And so, the elders had found it fitting to match the May Queen to this dark outsider. When the worst of winter had passed but spring had not yet fully arrived, the festivities would take place....

She'd heard stories of this man -- this god like being who had come to Hårga some time ago. The tales of what he had done for the village seemed impossible, but what really is impossible here? Nothing, it seemed.

She doesn't know exactly how long she's been here. Since June, she knows that. But it could have been June ten years ago, with the strange way time felt like it passed, here.

Then finally, she sees him. Sitting off by himself. It's school time, but she has nothing to teach, and so she goes to sit next to him. "You are my betrothed," she says, studying his face. He looks like he might be in the Fall of his life. The working times. But she can't be sure.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Always a sap for arranged marriage AUs

jyn erso || rogue one || ota

cassian andor || rogue one || ota

rey || star wars || ota

ben solo || star wars || ota

bodhi rook || star wars || ota

margaery tyrell | got

alina starkov (grishaverse)

Daenerys Targaryen | ASOIAF | f/m

Sheik | The Legend of Zelda: Ocarina of Time | M/M

Princess Zelda | The Legend of Zelda: Twilight Princess

Jin Guangyao (Meng Yao)| The Untamed|ota

Olivia | Fire Emblem Awakening | M/F

rhaegar targaryen | asoiaf

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Cora Hale | Teen Wolf | OTA

Sansa Stark | ASOIAF/GOT | f/m

Athrun Zala | Gundam SEED | M/F

Bedivere | Fate/Grand Order | M/F

Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd | Fire Emblem: Three Houses | M/F

Anthy Himemiya | Revolutionary Girl Utena

Re: Anthy Himemiya | Revolutionary Girl Utena

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Let me know if this starter is okay!

( r63 ) Nie Huaisang | The Untamed

Meriadoc Brandybuck | The Lord of the Rings

Jiang Cangdian | The Untamed OC | OTA

Wen Chao | The Untamed | OTA

Wen Zhuliu | The Untamed | OTA

Nie Huaisang | The Untamed | OTA

Jiang Cheng | The Untamed | OTA

Mazaki Anzu | Yu-Gi-Oh! | OTA

Rey || Star Wars || F/M

Tenjou Utena || Revolutionary Girl Utena/Shoujo Kakumei Utena || OTA

Grand Admiral Thrawn | Star Wars | OTA

geumsun ( fate makes no mistakes )

Bai Qian | Eternal Love | M/F

roronoa zoro | one piece | m/m

Nico Acosta | OC | M/F

Evie Montgomery | OC | OTA

Dani Ardor | Midsommar

5-4

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