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

[du_vallon]

"I have a roof over my head, food on a table, and a handsome man who apparently flushes the prettiest colours when I poke at him," Porthos points out, a wondrous look on his face as though he's curious what part of that is objectionable. "What's so bad in all that? Pride? Yeah, but pride was gone a long time ago."

[somepoorsoul]

It’s not the answer he expected - but then, Athos isn’t sure what he expected. Not this casual acceptance of fate, not those playful compliments that make him blush. He feels frozen to the spot by the man’s bluntness, by his casual willingness to dismiss honor and pride for the sake of survival.

“What happened to those who wouldn’t fight?” he asks. “Or couldn’t?"

[du_vallon]

A dark look storms over Porthos' face at the reminder and he truly wishes that the man hadn't brought it up. "Things," is what he says. "They might not have blown up the Court, but they did plenty to make sure that the people within it didn't think they had a choice. Marie de Medici is a cunning and cruel woman," he says. "They certainly didn't get the lot that I did, coming here for you."

[somepoorsoul]

There’s the fury he had expected from the sneering contents of Richlieu’s letter, though it flashes only briefly before it disappears. Athos is relieved, in a way - a man resigned to his fate, no matter how blithely, is an unsettling thing to behold, especially for one who favors duty and honor as Athos does. “And it does not trouble you that you are still a pawn, meant to annoy me?”

Without meaning to, he has drifted closer to the bed.

[du_vallon]

"It'd trouble me more if my annoying you was having effect, but it's only seeming to intrigue you," Porthos says with a bemused smile, given that instead of being annoyed, he looks interested. "Not to mention that I sort of plan to get something out of this beyond steady lodgings. Maybe you could teach me to fight with a sword?"

[somepoorsoul]

“You would be good with a sword,” Athos decides after a brief moment of thought. Despite his undisciplined background, Porthos has a grace to him when he fights, a calculated power that could be easily adapted to the sword. He has no doubt that Marie d’Medici, and whatever men led her troops into battle, saw this man as little more than an animal. But oh, how wrong they were.

He stands close to the bed now, near enough to touch him. “We’ll start tomorrow."

[du_vallon]

"And I'll show you a bit of hand to hand in turn," Porthos says, reaching out to slide his palm under Athos', to lift it and study it. "You might not be as broad and big as me, but I have the feeling you're plenty dangerous when given an opponent and a few moves."

[somepoorsoul]

Too much time has passed since Athos was touched with anything like warmth or intimacy - even in the most casual of ways.The war has swept away thoughts of the wife who betrayed him, but now that tensions of cooled, he finds himself returning to Anne in his mind far more often than he would like. Perhaps that is why even this simple gesture stills him, causes him to look at Porthos with heat in his eyes.

He hates himself for his weakness, but it has just been too long

[du_vallon]

Porthos finds that look very intriguing indeed. He leans back on the bed, propped up by his elbows, and eyes Athos with a look that has a smirk attached, fingers lingering by the rope that leads to the bell. "Should I ring this?" he poses, that smirk only getting bigger. "Or is someone nearby that can tend to my needs?"

[somepoorsoul]

Athos flushes, but he finds he cannot look away. “That depends on what your needs might be.” His voice is a low murmur.

[du_vallon]

"Well, it's been a very long campaign and the people who normally look after me aren't after what I am. They're probably out there thieving and escaping, but I'm choosing to look at this as the way out I've been searching for, for a few years." Porthos sits up a little, sliding his hands over his thighs so he can grasp Athos by the hips. "It's left me a little lonely."

[somepoorsoul]

“That’s very practical,” Athos murmurs without judgement. When was the last time he stood so close to someone when not in the heat of battle? He can feel his heart beating hard, and though he still believes that it is weak of him to give into this temptation, he knows that he is past resisting.

He crushes his mouth to Porthos’, one hand grabbing his arm, his own loneliness pouring into the fierce embrace.

[du_vallon]

Porthos keens, a small and desperate sound before he wraps his hand through Athos' hair to tug him in and bring him crashing down on top of Porthos, breathlessly shifting to give him room to fit. "Not so hard," he reprimands mildly for some of the more bruising force of the kiss. "When's the last time you did this?"

[somepoorsoul]

“Longer than I would like to admit,” Athos answers ruefully, his gaze skittering away for a moment. He has propped himself on one hand, and still half leans over Porthos. By God, he wishes he were not so close to trembling. But the last five years have been hard, the day particularly strange, and the thought of entirely forgoing his carefully crafted control still terrifies him.

[du_vallon]

Porthos cocks his brow upwards as he slides one broad palm between their bodies, slowly catching a handful and squeezing right at Athos' crotch, giving a pleased sound at what he finds. "You know, my friend Charon always said I had the best fingers in the city. Want to find out if he was right?"

[somepoorsoul]

Athos belatedly realizes that he is holding his breath; now he exhales shakily, eyes slipping shut. “I would,” he murmurs with a smirk, and adds, “But do you always talk so much?” before kissing him soundly.

[du_vallon]

He does, but Porthos doesn't have the opportunity to reply, too busy unbuttoning Athos' shirt with those hands as he kisses back as hard as he's getting, wishing that he could kick the door shut. There's so much room in a big house like this, nothing like the cramped quarters of the Court. He's panting by the time he eases away, ripping the last few buttons and watching them scatter on the expensive floor.

"I'm not surprised you're as handsome half-naked as you are with clothes on."

[somepoorsoul]

“I wouldn’t want to disappoint,” Athos murmurs, voice low enough that it’s nearly a growl. He runs the pad of his thumb across Porthos’ rough cheek and the line of jaw, and with great reluctance pushes away to see to the door. A master has no secrets from his servants, not matter how much he might like to pretend otherwise, but he prefers the semblance of privacy, at least.

He closes the door and leans against it, frozen for a moment with chest heaving, eyes fixed on the man sprawled on his bed.

[du_vallon]

Porthos takes advantage of the attention to start stripping clothes off himself until he's in nothing but his braies and is giving Athos a lustful look, filled with intent. "Neither would I. Is everything fit to your liking? Am I to your tastes?"

[somepoorsoul]

Athos manages a faint nod, his lower lip caught briefly between his teeth. His predilections have not always run towards men (though they have, perhaps, more often than he likes to admit), but he thinks a saint might forsake his vows for this man with him, here. Taking a breath to steady himself, he removes his own clothes as he approaches, until they are similarly undressed, and he is standing at the bed again.

[du_vallon]

Porthos sits up a little more to give himself the room to reach forward and tumble Athos onto the bed, straddling overtop him with widened knees. "I doubted you'd ever actually take me to be a spouse," he confesses, "but maybe I can make you feel good, if only for a night. I'm sure I'll become your dirty little secret that you like to ignore soon enough after," he murmurs, stroking his fingers over Athos' cock in delayed, fractious turns.

[somepoorsoul]

He gasps as he is thrown down upon the bed and whines under the touch, any remaining stoicism slipping away from his grasp. Already he cannot quite follow what Porthos is saying, though the low growl in his voice sends needy shivers down his spine. His eyes close and his hips arch, and for now he thinks of nothing but this man’s delicious ministrations.

[du_vallon]

"You like being tossed about," Porthos says with a warm grin on his face, finding out how very much he likes that bit. One hand pins down Athos' shoulders while the other works at bringing him the most pleasure he can manage, breathless with joy as he kisses him again. "I haven't felt like this in ages."

Too much fighting, not enough peace, he thinks.

[somepoorsoul]

Athos makes a breathless sound, a growl - of approval, of need, of agreement. The locket he always wears, that he still wears, has pooled in the hollow of his throat, but for the first time in five years, he has nearly forgotten that he wears it. He grabs at Porthos’ hair, fingers burying in his curls, and struggles gladly against his hold, wanting more, wanting everything, and so, so close.

[du_vallon]

Porthos uses the force of his body to slam Athos' shoulder down into the bed a little harder than before, refusing to give him the ability to eke out from under it. "No, no, you don't get to do that until you've come," he chides mildly, pumping Athos' cock now with little care for gentleness, working him with efficiency and speed.