bakerstreet | arranged marriage AU to scratch the itch.

arranged marriage AU to scratch the itch.

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? ]

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I'll set it right. I can set it right.

[ He can walk, at least, so long as his weight is supported. That's good. And the difference in their heights is small enough to make it possible. The machines could carry him more painlessly, but- this is better. Probably. Between his pinned ears and his attention on Luneth, he can't hear the jeers at all.

Back in the room, he guides Luneth onto the bed. Carefully. Carefully. ]

The paint. How thoroughly does it need to be cleaned away? [ Because he's going to need to clean this properly no matter what without the aid of but the paint won't come away with just water. ] And- would you prefer to be asleep, for this?

[ He's not going to knock the viera out without his say-so, but even if the pigment in the paint isn't toxic, the process of cleaning and closing the cuts won't be pleasant. ]

[ Luneth himself doesn't care about the jeers or what those people behind them have to say. Rather his focus is on getting an arm around Raha in return, using him as the crutch he is offering to be. His own hand is with the prince's at his own side, trying to apply pressure. The machines could carry him, but he'd rather not.

They go about this and the Viera can feel his strength ebbing. Darkness at the corners of his eyes and the pulsing of his own lifeblood against the wound. One moment he is in the halls and in the next being set down on the bed. Speaking. Focus on the voice. ]

No. Do not put me under. I must be awake.

[ So that's a no-go. The pain is manageable. He can handle it. The paint... ]

Just enough to not be in the way. [ They don't have to remove it all. Just the area that's going to need to be cleaned in order to tend to the wound. ] No direct contact with the bloodstream if possible.

[ It may be too late for no contact. With luck, the oil-based nature of it will have kept the paint from being picked up by blood from other cuts. If not- they'll deal with that as it comes. He moves around the rooms a little, gathering things, then returns. Hot water. The cleaning solution do remove the paint around the edges of the cut. And- ]

-you should bite down on this. [ The item he holds out is the handle of the same glowing aetheric construct of a conjurer's wand that he created a few nights ago. ] I'll be able to control its composition, so you won't crack your teeth on it.

[ It's an odd detail to fuss over based purely on a theoretical understanding of this process. Like he's done this before. ]

[ All will be will. It's not necessarily a problem since no, it is not toxic. It's just for sanitation purposes. That and it might sting a bit, but that's hardly anything to worry about.

Now what Luneth does in the time that Raha is bustling about is removing clothing. "Removing" is a kind word for it, really. He's ripping the shirt as best as he can with shaking hands to get it off of his body and the gashes. Then when the construct comes over and is waved in front of his face - ]

Eyedrops.

[ Take them now because Luneth doesn't really want to have another thing to be concerned over. Then and only then will he bite down. ]

I can work without, so long as it's dark enough.

[ But the medical node has learned to read Luneth's voice by now. And though it's instructed not to attend to him, it's programmed to listen to instructions on his behalf from others. so it activates, hovering over to Raha as he sets things out and scanning his eyes before distributing the little bottle.

And at that point, it isn't really worth arguing the point. It'll take all of a few seconds, and convincing Luneth that he's fit to work with his eyes dilated (which is what he assumes this is about, because the idea that he would be worried about him right now is ridiculous) will take longer.

So he puts in the eye drops. Manages not to hiss, because the idea of hissing over a headache while Luneth is here sliced open is impossibly shameful. ]

They're- they're in. Bite down, let me work.

[ It is partially that, mostly because he knows that Raha can't see like he should. But being unfamiliar with Miqo'te eyes, he has no way of knowing that he is fine in the dark. The other part is that it is just disturbing to see them blown so wide, those eyes. It's a little hard to focus on.

And as soon as he gets that knowledge, Luneth is biting down. He's ready for this. ]

[ He works. It's careful and efficient, the way he wipes away the paint from around the largest gash before cleaning it. Occasionally modifies the composition of the construct to offer more or less resistance, enough that it will keep Luneth's teeth from cracking against each other if he bites down, not so much that they might break against the construct itself.

Eventually, around the time the first gash is cleaned, he starts humming. The actual healing is quick, slowed only by the fact that the cut is deep enough that he has to work it closed little by little to avoid internal bleeding. By the time he draws his fingers over the place where the cut was, it's reduced to almost nothing. Sore, certainly. Probably best to rest, yes. But there's barely any sign that it was ever there. And all while the wand he's using to cast is currently in Luneth's mouth instead of his hands. He may have been underselling his talent as a mage just a little. ]

That's the worst one. The rest will be quicker.

[ It's a good solution. Because it bends and moves as Luneth growls and hisses. As he tries to bite down and clench his jaw from the cleaning and the healing that is taking place. The Viera has no idea how much blood that he has lost. Rest is going to be needed he knows.

Yet his hands find purchase on Raha's shoulders all the same. He growls again, wincing and digging fingers into the clothing of the prince's back.

Then there's the sudden release of pain and Raha may have to forgive him because Luneth is resting a head on a shoulder quickly. To catch his breath. ]

[ He hadn't expected him to bear the pain of it as stoically as he has borne everything else until now. He could never expect that of anyone. And yet it's still heartrending, the feeling of fingers curling in the back of his robes. The pained sounds that escape from behind the construct. The weight of Luneth's brow on his shoulder.

There's little he can do about it without the medical node's aid. The closest he has to magical anesthetic is sleeping spells. Something to study, later. Something desperately important to study. But for now, wounds so deep need to be cleaned if they're going to be fully closed. So he takes a second, just a second, to stroke Luneth's back.

And then he sings while he works. It's a Meracydian song, not an Allagan one, and the words straddle a careful line between lullaby and carefully disguised war song. His hands are more sure while he sings, falling into muscle memory. It doesn't make the work painless, but it at least makes it quick. ]

[ This is about what the Viera had expected. He is not about to be put under just so that he can't feel the pain. Luneth doesn't trust that much just yet. So while being awake for all of this might not be the most comfortable thing, he is going to sit there and suffer through it.

Later, when all is done, he'll inspect the other's work. Right now the pain makes it hard to focus on those sorts of thoughts. His breathing is shaky, even with the stroking along his back. That might be something he'll also examine later, but -

Singing. Ears twitch at the sound of it. He doesn't know the song and doesn't know its meaning. However, there's a shudder and some of the tension begins to fade. For the moment, anyway. The moments between working on his wounds and allowing a breath to recover. It does make it a little easier. Something else to focus on. ]

[ The singing is for his own benefit, mostly. To help him focus. To steady his hands. To make sure that he doesn't fumble and hurt Luneth more badly. But he feels the response, how a little of the tension sinks out of his betrothed. And- it's too early, to do much with that knowledge save to keep singing now. But anything that he can do to make this easier-

Eventually, the worst is over. The cuts all cleaned and knitted together. The sheets and his robes smeared with blood and paint. Luneth's clothes ruined. The cosmetics over his markings have worn away at one side. ]

I fear- I fear I may have to rethink the promise not to touch you. I am proving incapable of keeping it. [ It's mostly a joke. But proving that point, he doesn't let go of Luneth when he dismisses the conjurer's wand. ]

[ All the while the Viera would really be loathe to admit it. Again, the Viera that Luneth still is. Luneth the person doesn't seem to mind it so much. However it all goes back to that morality issue: does one seriously derive comfort from someone that should be seen as an enemy? They've only known each other for a few days and yet...

Yet.

There's just no denying the effect that it has regardless. It makes it easier, more bearable. Now that the wounds have been cleaned and tended to, sheets and clothing utterly ruined, he's breathing easier. Shaky, but easier.

And the comment gets a tired, airy laugh. ]

I was... Not going. To hold you to this promise... You failed before you even. Made it.

[ His hands haven't left the other's shoulders nor has he picked up his head. Not yet. Just give him a moment yet. ]

Pray do not let it colour your opinion on the worth of my word too badly. I will do my utmost to keep every other vow I swear.

[ And he lets out a long breath himself, carefully bringing his arms around Luneth. ]

You won. You won.

[ Despite everything, he still sounds surprised by that. Overwhelmed, a slight tightness to his voice that hasn't happened before. ]

It has not, do not worry.

[ This is fine, for now. Basking in the glory of a victory and yet coming out alive is cause for celebration. An embrace seems... Appropriate.

Even Luneth's arms seem to slip about the other's neck. ]

Yes, a victory. As I told you I would.

You did. I shall try to- I shall be brave enough to believe you, next time.

[ There will be a next time.

He doesn't know, right now, what or when that next time will be. The lizardfolk of the desert? One of the meracydian gods? Perhaps not an eikon at all, but something from the void or one of the more recent creations of Lord Amon.

For now, all that matters is that there will be a next time. Luneth will survive long enough for there to be a next time, and he will try to believe he will survive that, too.

The arms around his neck are comforting in their weight. Anchoring him. And he's careful, so very careful, as he untangles himself. Smears away the other half of his cosmetics as he scrubs at his eyes with his sleeve. One of his ears hasn't quite come unpinned, but it's doing its best to escape. ]

Did you manage it? The- the binding of her essence?

[ ..........Raha please don't try to ask questions about the art of summoning while he's only just stopped being half dead. It's a bad time for it. ]

Be sure that you do.

[ Because there is going to be a next time and there will continue to be "next times" until Xande sees fit to tire of the Viera. Or the Viera assassinates him. Whichever is likely to happen first.

Granted, he has no clue what will be next either. Luneth is just going to assume more of the same. More of these Primals or gods, since there are so many to draw from. They are almost endless in that respect. It would be easy to put these things together for events. The Viera just hopes that he has more than a few days to rest between.

It takes a few moments of just breathing before the prince pulls back and Luneth does as well. In the process, the Viera might be unworking the pins at those Miqo'te ears. It is time to free them for the time being and he's hardly surprised that the prince is rattling off questions. ]

I will not know quite yet. [ Though with shaky hands he produces a single plume that had been tucked in one of the sashes. It's still imbued with a bit of aether. Not enough to temper a person though. ] With this, it can be done.

[ Carefully, almost reverently (though thankfully, not actually reverently), he takes the feather from Theo's hands. Examines it as best he can right now, then returns it. ]

This is fascinating. It's clearly part of an eikon but- more stable. It isn't consuming aether to exist, as far as I can tell, the way an aethereal construct might. It's- something truly created from nothing. And the implications of-

[ He's so caught up in what neither of them can recognise as a tiny fragment of true ancient creation magics that he doesn't even notice his ears being unpinned until he catches himself off-guard with the volume of his own voice. And then notices that the blood rushing back into his ears aches, and. Oh.

His voice drops back down to its usual volume. ]

-ah. Thank you. I'd forgotten.

[ With it they should be able to call forth a very tiny version of Garuda. A wisp. From there Luneth should be able to bind it to himself. Enact some control over it. At least if the grimoire and the memories from the crystal are to be believed. He might have to ask Raha for additional texts, if at all possible.

It's interesting to note that the prince keeps talking even though Luneth works to unpin the ears. That he doesn't notice until one begins to twitch in excitement and the plume is handed over once more. ]

They were nearly undone and I just thought to complete the process. Now you can continue your ramblings while I remove all that my blood has touched.

[ So he's looking to get rid of the ruined fabric. But maybe he shouldn't be permitted to stand just yet? He pauses though, looking at the plume in his hands but not really looking at it. ]

You... [ How does he articulate... ] You went in there after me.

Ah, there's no need to trouble yourself with it. If you're content to let the sterilisation node see to cleaning- please, rest.

[ And he has so much to say on the plume, even if most of it isn't going to be particularly helpful for the art of summoning. He would continue his ramblings, if Luneth hadn't said that last thing. ]

Of course I did. [ He says it as if there should be such a thing as 'of course' here. As if anything has indicated even once to Luneth that he should take a single think for granted. ] You asked it of me.

I suppose that would be permissible.

[ It still means that he has to get up and remove himself from the area. At least remove himself enough that the node can do what it needs to.

But then comes the other part. The more difficult one - actually speaking about his confusion. ]

When I said that, I thought that you would simply be there waiting. Instead you came through the barrier and reached out for me. While I may not have held onto you, I know what your intent was.

[ As he had mentioned a couple of days prior, Raha confuses him. He's doing things that are just unexpected and Luneth doesn't know what to think. ]

You needn't go that far.

Ah. I may have misunderstood.

[ He leaves it there for a moment, all but ready to return to the topic of the plume.

But he swallows, looks away, and continues. ]

You are not the first one to play this role for my grandfather. Nor the first to be placed in my care. It has never been marriage before, but-

-most do not survive the first eikon. Those who had the gift lacked the might to slay her. Those who slew her were not protected from her corruption. I apologise for my exuberance. I was glad that you did not die.

I think you may be misunderstanding now.

[ No looking away. He gently reaches out to the other, touching the side of his face. To get attention and the like. Now he understands better, Luneth does. That the excitement comes from others failing and the Viera succeeding. ]

This does not upset me nor is it. [ He clicks his tongue against his teeth. ] Unpleasant, I suppose. If it is a way for you to celebrate your excitement, then by all means continue. Granted my success was largely in part due to your guidance. I think you are more than allowed to rush me the moment I am available.

[ As Luneth guides his gaze back to him, he bites his lip. For a moment he expects to be challenged. He would deserve it. For walking him to that throne room after walking others there and never back. For making plans that he desperately hoped might come to fruition, even believing that there was no chance at all that they could.

But he doesn't press further. He understands. ]

Then if you will permit it- I shall be honoured to share in your success.

I will have to from now on, anyway. To fail to be at your side at your next victory would- after being there at this one, meaning would be assigned to it. I have, perhaps, given my grandfather's court the impression that I am a more devoted spouse than I truly am.

I doubt that I should need to "permit" you anything in regards to success.

[ He's standing now, on shaky legs but still standing. As exhausted as he is now, Luneth is not going to want to rest with sweat and blood yet drying on his person. ]

It is as much yours as it is mine. You have a right to it.

[ If able, the Viera is going to slowly start to make his way over to the adjacent room that contains everything he needs to begin the process of cleaning up. He's amused by this "more devoted spouse" comment. Yes, Luneth had heard the implication in the Emperor's tone. ]

If I may... I do not think of it as necessarily the wrong impression. You are devoted. Perhaps not in the way that they jest and mock in, but it is there nonetheless. You seek after my comfort and desire my success. Is that not devotion in its own way?

[ He doesn't stop Luneth from standing and walking away from the bed, but he hovers. Frets over whether his work on the injuries will hold- it does. ]

I should think that devotion would entail playing no part at all in keeping you here.

[ It's meant to be an attempt at a joke, but it comes out a little too flat to work. He stays at the doorway for a moment. The suggestion that the task of removing the paint afterward might fall to him is still fresh in his mind, but- no. Not on this occasion. He should set aside the bloodied- everything, so that the modes can take care of cleaning them. ]

But I do wish for you to survive. And for your time here to be as pleasant as it can be. If you wish to call that devotion, I couldn't stop you if I wanted to.

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