arranged marriage AU to scratch the itch.

[morphs]

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?

[ Since the other marriage meme disappeared, I guess it's okay to post this one? ]

Comments

[manastacks]

[ The truth is often hard for people to hear and accept. Luneth won't lie and say that he doesn't also have his moments where it is better to just be in denial. He had spent some time under his mentor doing just that. Yet when it became too much, he had also needed to face the truth that nothing he could do would make him into the apprentice that his mentor expected and desired. So Luneth - Thivir - had elected to simply do things his own way and be done with it.

It doesn't surprise him that the other pulls away. Not at all. Luneth doesn't think much of it, more so trying to hide some level of shame and that, too, is an interesting reaction. ]

No, I would not think so. Your answer is your own, Raha. Often I forget the other Spoken races do not have the time that we Viera do to find the inner self and cultivate it. More than anything, I think I would find it sad. Not pathetic.

[sandwichbasket]

Then- It is not to disguise myself as one of them. It is to demonstrate proper contrition. That I know what I am. And that I have attempted to set it right, as much as could be expected of me.

[ He smiles, and it looks sad but not forced. ]

That battle never seemed worth fighting. The energy is better spent on my studies. On trying to do some good. On you, now, I suppose.

[manastacks]

I would still ask you: do you think it truly works.

[ It is a sad thing to hear, yes. However Luneth does not think any differently of Raha. Likely because his opinion of the other has not even fully formed yet. Everything is just a piece, a fraction, of the greater whole. Why should he come to any true conclusion until he can see how all of these things line up? ]

That being said, I will not force you into action. However I will not keep silent that if anything, it is a battle worth fighting lest you lose sight of yourself.

[sandwichbasket]

I- do not know.

[ Does it help? Or is it just him trading some part of himself for the illusion of something he can control? And even if it were, is that part of himself worth giving up that illusion?

He goes quiet. For a long time he goes quiet. ]

What of you? So much of you has been denied you- do you not fear losing yourself?

[ They're opposites in that, aren't they? Raha with his own name and his own station and his own blood and anything that makes him not hyur carefully censored. Luneth with his borrowed storybook name in a place he has been stolen to with his history left behind in the wood, but undeniably what he is even where what he is defies all that is thought possible. ]

[manastacks]

[ In the moments that Raha has become quiet, Luneth moves. He walks back over to his own pile and picks up everything that he had piled up. Some of it goes back into the bag. At least two travel with him back to the bed.

The prince is harmless. To him, anyway.

What he doesn't expect is the question. When it comes, he hums in thought. Tucks some of the materials into the side that Raha has deemed for Luneth's use. ]

No. I will not conform in the ways that would make me sacrifice who I am at the core. My morals and principles will remain intact and on this I shall not compromise. Should that mean that my life is forfeit, then it will be. My brothers and sisters would not have me lose myself in such a way.

[ Though things will change, he knows. His ears will no longer hear the calls of the Wood. That part of who he is will be long gone and he will be nothing more than a stranger to the Wood and his people. Even now they are likely mourning and lamenting the loss.

But it does not change who he is. ]

Again, I have had decades to come to know this. You have not.

[sandwichbasket]

[ His brothers and sisters. That's the opposite too, isn't it? Luneth speaks of people who may not share his blood, but who would see him be what he is. Raha speaks of his cousins, who share his blood and would see him dead or in their possession.

He pulls his own things around him protectively. Like a hiding place. ]

Would that I had half your conviction. I might fear it then, losing myself, for being anything worth losing.

[manastacks]

[ There already is something worth losing. At least Luneth believes. Now probably isn’t the time to say it. Let the prince come to know him more and he the prince better. Should a bond form naturally and it be nurtured in return, then perhaps. Perhaps then the Viera may speak such words.

If that time ever comes. ]

Rest, Raha. I am certain that we both require it after today’s events.

[ Then, after a moment: ]

Though I do require something to remove the paint. It is oil-based.

[sandwichbasket]

Oh. So more than just water. The sterilisation node could attend to it, but-

[ -but no nodes. He tilts his head back, thinking. ]

-I havn't used these rooms in a long time, but there should still be some soaps in the washroom. The kind that one applies for oneself. But they- they will be perfumed. Quite heavily, if that is a problem.

[ And it's the tiniest tragedy, one that would happen sooner or later anyway. One that would happen with the sterilisation node, if not to the same degree. But Luneth still smells of living earth, of somewhere dark and filled with unknown things. Of places that he will never see.

It's one more tiny thing for him to lose. Maybe he won't even notice it, without a miqo'te nose. But it still seems sad, knowing that it will be drowned in the smell of something optimised in every way to be pleasant. ]

[manastacks]

Aye. We live in the jungle so naturally it is rather wet and humid. It would not do to have something other than this.

[ Though he gives it some thought. Yes, things here are quite heavily perfumed and the like. Luneth has noticed. However, there are still plenty of his own things here as well. Some of his scent will remain, regardless. Such is the reason why he had put the material of his attire in the bed. Something of his and his scent to chase away anything that could bring nightmares. Should he sleep. ]

I suppose I do not have much of a choice.

[ Which means that he is now untying all of the sashes that he has had about his waist. Raha might wish to turn around or something because Luneth hadn't been teasing when he had hinted at a lack of modesty. Really it's just so that he'll be able to preserve what of his own scent that he caries. Which means off must come the shirt! ]

This should not take overlong.

[sandwichbasket]

[ He watches, at first. The sashes, the unfamiliarity of the fabrics - made by hand, by the looks of it, presumably from materials taken from the jungle, not by production machina from specially cultured silk arachne. He has questions about each detail of their creation, and he expects the closest he will get to answers are whatever he can tell by looking.

And so he looks until a little too late. The colours natural dyes create are different from those he is used to. Duller in some ways and deeper and brighter in others. There is an unevenness to the weave that he would consider an insult if he saw it in any garment that saw itself presented to him. Places where repairs have been done. If not by a different hand then by the same hand on a different day, the quality of the work affected by changeable things like weather or mood. And

Oh.

Well. He had been a little curious on the topic of whether viera have tails. ]

I apologise. I was looking at the clothes, not-

[ And he looks away only too quickly. ]

-Please. Take as long as you wish.

[manastacks]

[ Males have their own way of life just as females of his kind do. Some things they simply share as well. Being able to create and mend clothing being an essential skill. There are times that they are left materials by their sisters, of course. Placed in locations around the jungle just as they often leave specimens of bone and the like for the forging of weapons and tools. Just because they do not come in contact with one another does not mean that they do not share resources.

Though there is one of these items that happens to be handled with great care. Gently folded up and placed back into the bag. So the one that has been mended several times over - by different hands, yes - must have some sort of meaning to it. Maybe one that will be shared in time and maybe not. However only time will tell.

And no, Viera do not have tails. TO MY DISMAY ]

Hmm?

[ Oh. So the little prince had been looking, hmm? Only of course it wouldn't be in those ways, but only because he's curious. Luneth chuckles once more because it really is. Just too amusing. So much for this image he wanted to pain of himself! ]

I suppose they are a far cry from what you are accustomed to seeing. There is no need to fluster so.

[ Yet he slips inside the washroom as if to spare Raha more embarrassment. It's not it at all, but the prince seems to need a moment to collect himself regardless. He'll have until Luneth works out how to use all of the contraptions and devices inside. Which means he's likely playing around for a bit before actually cleaning himself off. ]

HEY SE GIVE VIERA TAILS

[sandwichbasket]

[ He isn't going to be all that much help with most of the washroom's mechanics. That the tower even still has baths at all can be attributed to hedonism, not usefulness. He was born long after many of them became outdated, for the most part. He's used them before, the old ways based on passing ones own aether through a series of elemental crystals to form it into hot water or warm air. But being able to use them and being able to explain them blind while trying very hard not to think about the explain-ee's current state of undress are different things entirely.

The soaps are about as overly perfumed as might be feared. Enough to seem like it's covering up some other smell, though they seem safe enough.

In Luneth's absence he washes - much faster, doing it the newer way, letting the sterilisation node destroy any unwelcome thing that might have attached to him with precisely-applied amounts of aether. Changes. Cocoons himself up in his own half of the blankets. By the time he returns, it's hard to tell if he's awake or not. He's very still, lying on his side on his half of the bed. The only indication that he might be doing something is the node floating in front of him, open to present a glowing display of allagan letters.

A sideways glowing display of allagan letters, of course. So he can read it while lying down. ]

:pleading_face:

[manastacks]

[ Really he doesn't need all of that. Finding cloth in the form of a towel or something ( even if it just for hedonistic pleasure at this point ) will more than suffice. Luneth takes his time between lathering up a soap that is at least not terrible and washing off the paint from his arms and chest. Then rinsing it off. And rinsing it off further. Then using a different, dry surface to dry the skin. It might be excessive just so that he can dilute the scent of that soap to tolerable levels.

Upon exiting, he sees the Miqo'te curled up in the bed. Luneth already knows whether or not the other is sleeping. He can tell from the heartbeat and the breathing. Though he does wonder if the prince is going to continue to read out of interest or just to give himself something to do as a means of distraction.

The Viera sighs and finally sets about untying sandals before slipping them off. Then and only then will he begin to settle into his half of the bed. It's... Too soft. Far too soft. ]

I will continue to aggressively /prettyplease until my demands are met

[sandwichbasket]

[ He smells like he belongs here, at least before he returns to his possessions, even with just a little of it. It's a floral scent itself, but with all of the complexity stripped out. Only the prettiness with none of the earth. As unnatural and perfect as the tower itself.

It's a strange thing to find tragic, a smell, but here they are. He keeps staring into the words, even if he hasn't really been looking at them since this began. He's looked over the same line of tomestone data about 15 times without taking it in. ]

Something unperfumed. [ He doesn't say it until Luneth is at the bed. ] I'll set about finding something unperfumed tomorrow.

[ That might be a challenge. ]

that emote makes me so uncomfortable

[manastacks]

[ Reading, but not reading. Interesting. Now he doesn't actually think that Raha will speak, as cocooned as he is. Yet when he does, Luneth's ears perk towards the sound of that voice.

This prince. He - ]

You do not care for the scent of the soap? [ Huh? ] I thought I had selected the least offensive one.

SE viera tails now or everyone gets traumatised by the emote

[sandwichbasket]

Oh. No. It's not- you've done nothing wrong. It's-

[ 'You smell different now' is a weird thing to say. More than that, it's a distinctly non-hyur thing to say. ]

-you wouldn't be able to hunt like this, would you?

[ Not that he knows much about hunting. But he's pretty sure it involves not being detected. And it's the best way he can express what he means - that Luneth seems diminished somehow, in smelling like a prince - without soundling like some sort of cat person sensitive to small differences in people's scent. ]

omg if only that would work

[manastacks]

[ Just like it would be weird if Luneth were to say "I can hear your heartbeat and your breath." Oh wait. He already has. ]

No, I would not. At least not if I were traveling downwind of my target.

[ Though he had thought he had done a decent job of muting it! ]

[sandwichbasket]

[ He did, in truth. The problem is the lack of his scent from before just as much as it is the presence of something new. ]

It just seems- inconvenient.

[ The last word is weak, as he tries to come up with a non-miqote reason to be concerned about Theo's smell. ]

If you do not find it so, you may use what you like. But I will see that there are things that aren't perfumed.

[manastacks]

[ Luneth is quiet for a moment. It sounds horribly awkward doesn’t it? ]

Raha. If it is something you do not like, you are able to say as such.

[ Does he not, technically, have the right to express it? As his ‘husband’ yes? ]

However, I will not refuse the option. It is still the preferable one. I dislike the strength of it.

[sandwichbasket]

It is- I have no strong feelings about the perfume itself. It's too strong. It's meant to be. I use it if I need to drown out other scents.

It is just unusual, for a person's scent to change so completely. Even knowing the reason. I usually associate that kind loss of a scent with sudden illness, or an augmentation. Or-

[ He rolls onto his back, staring at the silk above the bed instead of the words, before it occurs to him the exact comparison to make. ]

-ah, you can hear my breath and heartbeat, yes? And if you could suddenly no longer hear them, even if you understood why, I expect it would be disconcerting.

[manastacks]

[ Now the Viera doesn't really understand why the prince struggles so. Why he feels the need to not express his thoughts, rather. More than likely it is habit. Keeping his thoughts and opinions to himself and being accommodating are a way of life for him.

Luneth thinks that he should break some of those habits.

Either way, the comparison is a good one to make. He immediately understands the struggle. ]

It is your way of identifying someone. [ A nod. ] Then it is especially important that we find a way to accommodate your needs as well.

[ And that's that. That's all it takes for Luneth to agree and not inquire further. ]

[sandwichbasket]

It is, yes. And so even knowing that nothing is amiss it is very strange. That you would enter the washroom as one person and leave as another. Someone who does not smell like earth wearing your skin.

[ That's a little presumptuous to say, perhaps. He has been in Luneth's presence for perhaps a few bells in total. Who is he to say what should and should not wear his skin and what they ought to smell like? But at the same time, it seems strange that he should smell of only the pretty parts of flowers, not like dark, cool earth against hot, humid air. Inherently wrong.

He looks over at Luneth, at how unnatural it seems to be for him, the way he sinks into the bed. Even if he smells like this place, he still very much is not part of it. And that's a comfort, probably. Even if he does seem to be struggling with the softness of the mattress. ]

It will become easier, I think. Everything will, with luck. [ Scents and too-soft mattresses and figuring out where tasks use machines and need alternatives. ] For both of us.

probably do a time skippy?

[manastacks]

Aye, that it would. This makes sense even to myself.

[ So the prince never had to worry about whether or not Luneth would find it weird. He doesn't. Rather, this is more acceptable than whatever other answer Raha would have come up with in his head.

As for comfort levels, he isn't sure that he likes this bed. Or rather the mattress. He sinks into it and wonders if he will be swallowed whole. Luneth's ears move about, trying to still pick up sounds even as he starts to close his eyes. Oddly, he is still in a "ready" sort of position. Sitting up with his back propped up against pillows. Hands folded over his chest. As if he could get up at any given moment. ]

It will take time and adjustment, yes. However it is not as daunting of a challenge as I once thought it would be.

[sandwichbasket]

[ He commands the node he was using to read to disable itself. The writing disappears and the node skins to the ground and falls inactive. The room goes as dark as it ever can when even covered the walls hum and glow with crystallised aether. And for a long time he doesn't sleep. Just goes quiet. He turns back away from Luneth after waiting a while to see if he's going to lie down.

It's a few bells before his breathing and heartbeat slow. He sleeps peacefully enough, save for that his ears twitch every now and then.

For the next few days he does what he can. Goes through the Allagan alphabet with Luneth. Gets his hands on a few relevant Tomestones of Phantasmagoria and has his nodes read their contents aloud for him - even if Luneth doesn't care for the nodes themselves, at least they mean that a better understanding of the art he's being forced to use isn't kept from him by the written language. ​He asks questions, perhaps more than are welcome. He sings to himself from time to time. The closest thing he can find to unperfumed soap is technically for cleaning delicate workshop equipment, but it does the job and doesn't harm skin.

He examines the grimoire and soulstone himself to try to offer insight, but they refuse to reveal any secrets to one who cannot safely be soaked in an eikon's aether. And then Xande summons them again. ]

What is it made from, your paint? [ He asks as they both ready themselves. Luneth with his battle gear and Raha with his ear pins and face powders. He's nervous, but the way it carries in his voice is different. There's an energy to it, like lightning swelling in clouds before a thunderstorm. Like he could fall into a torrent of questions at any moment just for something to fill up the silence. ] I doubt I can find the exact ingredients, but perhaps appropriate substitutions would be possible.

[ Unspoken, behind that question, is a very careful, very tentative sort of hope. I think you might live long enough to run out of paint. ]</small

[manastacks]

[ The following days are... Interesting if nothing else. At night, if one can even really tell in the Tower itself, Luneth doesn't settle deep into the mattress. Every night he sleeps in the same position, ears alert and ready to take in a sound that might alarm and awaken the Viera. He doesn't relax, not completely. It's as much for himself as it is Raha, to a degree. So to say that he is getting a full night's rest isn't accurate. though that would be reasonable, correct?

However, he is a quick study it would seem. The Echo is ever helpful, aiding Luneth in connecting the dots between spoken word and written. At least he seems to be correlating what the letters are to the sounds that they make at a faster rate than one might assume. He's also taken to nodes that relay information, as long as Raha is there to operate the node. So, really, it is whatever the prince feels like reading or explaining himself at the time. Some of the questions Raha asks, the Viera answers - if they do not break that unspoken rule that all Viera share. Nothing too personal or could compromise his brothers and sisters.

Some things about himself, though, and his preferences? Thoughts or opinions. That slips through from time to time. As long as Raha answers questions that Luneth has in return. Tit for tat and that sort of thing.

And while the soulstone doesn't offer any insight to Raha, it does to Luneth. He does spend some evenings just holding it in his hand, as if meditating on it.

Although what is likely going to be the most irritating thing to many of the Allagan is the fact that Luneth continues to be offered clothing that "suits his station." Yet the Viera is constantly tearing them up or using a tool to slice the fabric up - reworking it into something more suitable for Viera. It must look the interesting combination of Allagan fabrics and colors but in a form that is purely of the Wood. Sashes and loose fitting shirts that reveal much skin.

Which is how he is going to present himself to Xande and the onlookers, frowning as Raha once again takes to hiding his own features. ]

Hmm? [ Oh. His paint. ] Pigments found in ore deposits found around the Skatay. Some are made from the flora within Golmore. The pigments are then mixed with another plant-based oil.

[ So if he's looking for a substitution, it should be easy. ]