howlingplayground | Arranged Marriage

It's a trope near and dear to our hearts. Arranged marriage.

Maybe it's for the family. Maybe it's for a friend. Maybe you know the person and have been expected to marry them for years. Maybe it's the wedding day and you have no clue who it is you'll be tied to for your natural life. Maybe you've been married a while, and you're just now starting your life, away from the expectations of others. Or maybe, the "others" are watching, waiting, making sure this marriage sticks.

Prompts for those who need them:

Reasons:

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.
6. Tribute → You have been offered as a gift or appeasement, alternately you're the spoils of war.
8. 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.

Scenario:

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?
8. Been at this a while → Just starting to get to know the other person

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

He can feel the blush start at the back of his neck, where it always had when they were children. Misa knows him too well.

He's not even yet a man, not even by the standards of their country. He won't be until he turns nineteen. But his family has always married young; he's expected to have a consort and an heir waiting in the wings whenever Father pops his clogs and he gets stuck as the head of the House.

Looking around and not seeing anyone watching, he takes her hand fully.

"Am not," he says peevishly, acting younger than his seventeen years. "But this...its..." He's normally so eloquent, but finds himself stammering. "This. You. You've known me practically since I was in diapers. Well, not quite that long. But still. It's awkward."

Misa does know him well. Well enough that she's about to push him in a bush and stomp away, just as she had when they were younger. It'd serve him right. "You are too." She snaps back at him. Things are different, if only because now they're being watched, instead of being told to run off and play.

"It's only awkward if we want it to be." She says, taking her hand away from him. "We're still friends, Joss. Aren't we?" She asks, suddenly unsure if he doesn't want to be friends anymore. She does! She'd rather him a friend, than anything, but they don't get that choice. Their, well, guardians in her case parents in his, had made that choice for them. She bites her bottom lip, like she's always done when she's nervous.

The blush on his pale neck flushes crimson.

“Of course we are,” he insists like it’s the most natural thing in the world. For all his learning and intelligence, he still thinks only in absolutes. “But it’s one thing to be friends and another to....”

He suddenly becomes very interested in his shoes and mutters something that sounds an awful lot like “take you into my bed.”

Because that childhood crush of his? It never went away. Now Misa is a woman grown and she’s the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen and it’s intimidating as hell to realize it.

Plus, she could still push him into the bush. The gardener had never quite managed to cover up the Joss-sized hole that had appeared in one of the topiaries when he was twelve.

She actually blushes. Misa looks away from him, and finds something utterly fascinating about the bush next to her. She understands what he's saying.

"We don't have a choice." She says, finally, after clearing her throat several times. She doesn't want to think about that just yet. They have time. A full three months until they are wed. That will, hopefully, give them time to get over this... whatever it is. She isn't sure, but she doesn't want to think about it.

"The contracts have been signed, and we're bound." Pragmatic as always. She knows there is a way to break it, but in order to do that, one side would have to prove falsehood on the other side. She wants to be as open and as honest with Joss as she can be.

“I think we’ve always been bound,” he says gloomily. “We just didn’t know it at the time.” He’s learned recently just how structured his life has always been. All of his playmates were carefully chosen for him; he never had an opportunity to form friendships organically. It’s all Father’s doing.

“But at least we do know each other.” It’s true. Mother had been plucked from an obscure dukedom and married to a much older man in a language she didn’t even speak when she was younger than Joss is now. He counted himself lucky that if Misa was going to be his wife, at least they have a genuine affection for one another already. Suddenly, he wonders if he has Mother to thank for his relative good fortune.

“I hope you will not be unhappy as my, er, wife. You’ll be a princess. A rather minor one unless my cousin dies childless, but...”

She sighs and counts to ten. "Joss, when have I ever cared about your title?" She asks, gently. "Titles... titles are just ways of separating people." She wonders if he's been told about her own background, the bastard daughter of a high ranking nobleman. She's only the chosen one, so to speak, because the man had had no other children when he died, and his wife had gone into a cloister saying that not having children was a sign from God.

But her mother? Her mother had been a simple maid, made Mistress to a powerful Duke. Misa had grown, her first few years surrounded by love and happiness, until they'd sent her here, far away from her mother and any friends she might have had.

She sighs. "You're the one who will be disappointed. There are those in the court who would use my... obscurity against you."

Joscelin can’t help it:

He laughs, and feels himself relax for the first time all day.

“They can certainly try,” he says, once he trusts himself to speak again. “My Grandfather of blessed memory was the King.” He lowers his voice conspiratorially. “And between you and me, Uncle Joe—” (The current king, Charles-Joseph IV) “Doesn’t much care for his own son and rather likes me better. If anyone tries to insult you, I’ll sic the bloody Palace on ‘em.”

He holds her hand tight.

“Misa...promise me. Promise me you won’t let them get to you.”

She'd grown up among the court. To him, they weren't vicious. To a bastard daughter who was the shame of her father? That is a different story. It's never been anything overt. No, that wasn't the style of the court. Instead, it's always been little asides, little things that might have been insults, but might not have. She has to walk a very fine line and decide which way to fall with those. It almost never goes well for her.

And Joss coming to her defense? That had just made the pettiness worse at times, when he wasn't around. Their public betrothal isn't going to change any of that. Their marriage might not change any of that.

But through it all, she'd kept her kindness, her gentleness - her pushing of Joss into the topiary besides (he'd deserved it). She's the one the palace staff like. She is the one who hears a lot of rumors before they become public knowledge and can deftly use it to help Joss, his father and the King. All because she does not "put on airs". Her mother was a simple maid and she sees no reason not to be kind to those in that station now.

"I can't promise that, Joss." She says, softly. "You know what they are like." She wraps her arms around herself. "But I'll try."

Joscelin knows that there are many eyes watching them, and he finds that he absolutely doesn't give a damn. He takes off his jacket and drapes it across Misa's shoulders. She'd taken care of him while they were children. Now it's his turn.

"Whatever happens, we'll face it together." It's a brave statement from a naive boy of seventeen, but it's sincerely meant. "I'll be the dashing prince and you the beautiful princess and we'll make them think twice about ever crossing us."

She pulls his jacket around her, glad for the warmth. Despite the warmth of the sun, the wind has a chill to it, and she's tired of them being on display.

She actually giggles about that. "Dashing huh?" She's not going to counter his 'beautiful' remark. It's nice to hear, even if she's heard it from people time to time.

Arranged Marriage

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