MEME: Arranged Marriage AU

[frozenfractals]

We were craving a meme, so after some digging around, we've got something new and different for you guys, with a huge hat-tip to the bakerstreet RP memes comm (original post here). Let's get some of those marriage feels sorted.

Time to get your faux-historical/fantasy novel on. For today's meme, your pup is getting married, whether they want to or not. It's arranged marriages time!

HOW IT WORKS
❧ Post a comment with your character's name and any preferences. This should include whether you're open to full threads or mostly dialogue, Test Drive-style, if you have a preference.
❧ If there's a specific set of circumstances you like best, set the scene.
❧ Or leave your comment blank and let others use RNG to choose the scenario. Feel free to mix and match.
❧ Or even just write drabbles to any (or none) of the prompts.
❧ Please note the prompts below are merely suggestions and you're more than welcome to come up with your own situation.
❧ Have fun!

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?

Comments

[somepoorsoul]

Naturally, they are seated next to each other at dinner, and the commotion of the meal provides a breath of privacy - as much as they are ever going to be allowed until they are officially wed, certainly.

He knows nothing about her, save her name - Beatrice, he reminds himself - and doesn’t know how to begin learning. What’s more, he doesn’t know if he wishes to. “I hope your journey was pleasant,” he says finally, as the wine is poured, taking up his glass gratefully.

[priordivergence]

"Quiet," I say, turning my wine glass in circles more than I really drink it. "But I'm sure you've had to ride a carriage across country with your relatives often enough to know what that's like." I say it with my eyes fixed on the table. My parents warned me against being pert but I can't sustain the delusion that I'll survive this if all I can say is 'very pleasant my lord.'

"I was told you intend to leave for the regiment shortly after the...arrangement has been seen to."

I can't even call it a wedding.

[somepoorsoul]

He thinks he can detect a note of wryness beneath all the polite layers, and Olivier allows himself a smile, brief and faint though it might be. “Interminable, then,” he deadpans, gaze flickering to her briefly.

He takes a breath and nods. His father had been furious about that, but had been unable to argue when Olivier said he planned to join the Musketeers - it’s too honorable a choice to protest openly. Too honorable an escape. He can’t stand the thought of being here with Anne so close, unable to have her.

“You can bring what you like here after all of this has died down,” he waves vaguely at the mass of relatives and hangers-on who populate the table. “Whatever servants, or companions, or keepsakes. You don’t need to be alone here.”

It’s impossible to be actually alone on the estate, but he hopes she knows what he means. There’s alone, and then there is lonely.

[priordivergence]

"I think you can see what cheerful and energetic people we are," I say, nodding at my father who smiles politely at the Comte, genial and quiet, but forever restrained.

"I don't have many of such things." My parents are known for their simple and restrained way of life, of their careful abnegation from decadence. If it weren't for their professed Catholicism, we would live under the suspicion of being Puritans. "A multitude of staff offends my parents' beliefs."

If he weren't so genial, people would accuse him of radicalism.

[somepoorsoul]

“Whereas, we have Thomas.” Olivier speaks with equal parts fondness and frustration, just in time for his brother, seated across the table, to burst into a gale of laugher. He doubts that Lady d’Arbois has said anything worth such a joyous reaction, but while the girl is a dullard, she is a very pretty dullard, which probably explains Thomas’ interest.

Olivier nods faintly. He has never liked a large household himself, though his reasons are more personal than philosophical. The Prior family are known to be plain people, and have garnered the reputation without causing trouble or disrespect. Olivier thinks that is why his father chose Lady Beatrice: she is a woman unlikely to make a scene, or even make society look twice.

He closes his eyes briefly, and tries not to resent the girl for playing such a good shadow.

[priordivergence]

"Well, then at least I'm bound for some entertainment." It's not meant to be sarcastic, but I'm told I have an unfortunate tendency for it. I push my first course around my plate more than I eat it, my eyes kept on the terrine. "I've been assured I'm much better as a spectator than an active player in that practice."

It's a very nice way of saying I'm stiff and boring and we all know it.

"Something about my interest in books. Apparently it makes me studious and plain."

[somepoorsoul]

Olivier ducks his head to hide his smirk. He loves his brother more than anyone in the world, nearly, but he’s a maddening boy who speaks more than he thinks, with a penchant for accidental cruelty. “Thomas never allows for a dull moment,” he agrees dryly. “Even when you wish for one.”

“You like books.” Perhaps there is a chance that she will at least be well-read, not quite the shadow she appears.

[priordivergence]

"I've had my share of dull moments," I say, pausing to allow the staff to take our plates away. It gives me a moment of pause. "It's why I read so much, for a better variety of moments."

I swirl my spoon carefully through my soup and adopt a prim expression, practiced enough that many people take my apparent sincerity at its face. "Not that I've lost my head in romances, of course. My Lord."

[somepoorsoul]

“I wouldn’t have thought you had,” he murmurs, sipping his wine. Anne will haunt this dinner, will haunt the rest of his life, Olivier is increasingly sure. Anne wouldn't care if he was a prince, or a count, or a beggar, and proves it by calling him my lord with a playful twinkle in her eye that never fails to make him blush.

“I can show you the library after dinner."

[priordivergence]

The thought of a proper library, if he has one, calls my attention. That, at least, is something.

"I'd like that," I admit, still pushing food around more than I really eat it. "I'm not as well read as I would like. My father says my imaginative streak is...unbecoming."

[somepoorsoul]

“Your father is wrong.” He doesn’t say it to be polite or kind, he doesn’t even mean it as a compliment, not really. It’s merely a statement of fact: a well-read woman is far from unbecoming. No wonder the girl seems so miserable.

How cruel indeed, to have sent her here, to a man and a family who can surely make her no happier.

[priordivergence]

For a moment, I think he means to tell me that I'm not unbecoming, only to realize he speaks of my father more than of me. In the distance, Thomas makes Lady d'Arbois laugh again and the sound roils in my stomach. I remember Tobias, who called me striking, who could make me smile, sent off to the regiment by his father.

My hand tightens around the spoon and it hits me then, that if I do nothing, this life of tepid politeness will cage me until I die. It's desperation that makes my tongue sharp even as I lower my voice to speak.

"I'm sure your library is of an excellent quality, my lord," I say. "It will keep me occupied for days while you arrange to see whomever it is you really love."

[somepoorsoul]

For a moment, the surprise must show even on Olivier’s carefully controlled expression; how could she know, by God? He swallows hard and looks down at his barely touched soup, wishing, in a miserable way, that the girl was right, that he would return to the arms of his love the moment he is free to do so.

But he will not. Olivier de la Fere is too honorable for that, too honorable for his own good; so he told his own father, who scoffed, and Anne, would sobbed and called him a hypocrite and a fool. He has sworn to keep his vows, not to keep a mistress once he is married, not to bring dishonor to two women who do not deserve such a thing.

It is one of the reasons he must escape La Fere, put himself far from temptation.

He downs his wine in one go. “If you prefer to explore the library on your own, you only need say so, mademoiselle."

[priordivergence]

I know he doesn't love me. I doubt he could. Caleb's already assured me that the only reason high-ranking gentlemen get married is so that they may have mistresses. I'm young. I'm sheltered. I'm not stupid. It is what men do and what women endure.

"I've been told it's what to expect," I say. I'll let him decide if I mean the library or philandering.

[somepoorsoul]

Olivier brings his empty glass down harder than he intends. He presses his hands to the table, hoping that, somehow, it will hide the way they tremble.

“I am an honorable man,” he insists quietly. “You do not know me, so I will not hold you assumptions against you."

[priordivergence]

I've offended him, actually offended him. I pause and watch the minute changes of his face, his hands. Does he really intend fidelity to me when I'm practically a burden?

He's a different man than I expected.

"Forgive my assumptions then," I say, turning away. "I was merely told to manage my expectations." My fingers clench at the napkin. "To not expect to be happy or in love."

[somepoorsoul]

“I never said anything about happiness.” If Beatrice is to speak frankly, then he will as well. Love, he does not even acknowledge. “But I intend to make you comfortable as best I can.” A beat. “And I will not humiliate you."

[priordivergence]

It is more generous than many prospective husbands would be, I know that. His honesty is more palatable than our painfully polite dance of words and I nod.

"You are kinder than most, then," I say. "And honorable."

[somepoorsoul]

“You don’t know me very well.” He is grateful when a servant refills his glass of wine, and more grateful still that their conversation has finally passed by pleasantries.

Perhaps that makes him cruel, no matter how much he would like to pretend not to be, that he prefers blunt, painful honesty to politeness. “I will point you to the library, and let you explore on your own."

[priordivergence]

"If you're willing to provide company, I'd be grateful," I admit. "La Fere is a very grand estate..."

It's both a compliment and a tacit admission that I've never had the chance to roam a property so large. The grandeur is restrained and tasteful, but still massive. I don't want to be more lost than I have to be.

[somepoorsoul]

“Most of it is empty space,” Olivier says of the estate, sounding dismissive, even embarrassed. He hates grandness, the graciousness with which he is meant to take such compliments, the loyalty he is expected to feel to stone, and mortar, and land.

But the library is a different matter. Briefly, his eyes light with something like gladness. “I would be happy to do so."

[priordivergence]

It sounds lonely. Our own home is smaller and plainly furnished, but each room has a use and a little sprinkling of life. The way Athos reacts, I doubt La Fere will be similar and I don't know if I have the means or authority to change that.

But then he comes very close to a real smile and I do too, very slightly. "That would be very kind of you."

[somepoorsoul]

He shrugs. “We might as well get to know each other.” Olivier feels pity more than warmth towards this woman who will be his wife, but he is a practical man. No matter how much time he intends to spend away from the estate - and he intends to stay away as much as possible - they cannot wholly avoid one another’s company.