Tw: Arranged Marriage - Blog Posts

Jeyda’s lips curled into something that wasn’t quite a smile—more like amusement laced with warning. He took in the fire in Rowan’s eyes, the rigid set of her shoulders. Defiance suited her. A shame it wouldn’t serve her well.

"You wound me, Rowan," he murmured, voice smooth, unbothered. He plucked the champagne flute from her hand, deliberately brushing his fingers against hers, and took a slow sip before handing it back. "I’d at least hoped for a 'darling' before the insults began."

But his amusement didn’t reach his eyes. Beneath the cold exterior was something else—something bitter, something resentful. He glanced around the ballroom, at the watching eyes, at the silent puppeteers who had sealed their fates. His father’s presence lingered like a ghost, unseen but suffocating.

Then, just for show—because they were always performing—he took her hand and pressed a slow, deliberate kiss to her knuckles. His lips barely grazed her skin, but the gesture was enough to earn approving nods from the men who had dictated their futures.

When he looked at her again, his steel-grey eyes were unreadable. "Smile, Rowan," he said, his voice quiet, almost taunting. "The audience is watching."

Closed starter for @littledaydreamers based on this

The champagne flute felt fragile in Rowan's grip, threatening to shatter under the pressure of her clenched hand. The forced smiles, the platitudes about unity, the goddamn wedding cake – it was all a grotesque charade. She caught her father's eye across the crowded ballroom. Sal Price, a man who thrived on fear and intimidation, gave her a curt nod, a silent reminder of what was at stake. Her life, her freedom, her family's future, and more importantly the life of her brothers. Of course she'd never tell Brax the real reason why she'd agreed to follow along with their father's orders, the whole point of this was to avoid the blood shed.

She took a large gulp of champagne, the bubbles doing little to soothe the burning resentment in her throat. Tonight, she was a pawn. A sacrifice on the altar of peace. Peace bought with her misery. A shadow fell across her.

She lifted her head and met the cold, steel-gray eyes of Jeyda Arslan, her soon-to-be husband, her captor. "Arslan," she spat, the word dripping with venom. "Or should I call you husband? The thought makes me want to vomit."

two characters for the price of one! torrid sinclair and hope

so torrid is a fire genasi bard, hope is a white tiefling divination wizard. both are of the noble background.

torrid is the daughter and only child of ember and damon sinclair, a fire genasi woman and a human man. they were a political marriage and, though they didn’t have a marriage based on love, were a powerful alliance. they raised their daughter to be strong independently with the knowledge that she would one day be married to another family’s heir to forge a political alliance. she was always fierce and still reserved, a gifted diplomat. torrid went to parties and other events of importance with her parents from a young age. it was at one of these events that she first met hope.

hope is the eldest daughter of euphoria and ralcius, both also white tieflings. she was the first child they were able to have after a great many failures to produce an heir. after hope, they had two other daughters, velkaria and anisolis. hope was a sick child, one such illness claiming the sight in one of her eyes.

torrid and hope knew they would not be allowed together, both being noblewomen destined to marry men of their parents’ choosing, but they stole what time they could. they would duck out of parties, walk the courtyards together, enjoy their little moments of peace away from duties and family.

it didn’t last. they were found out eventually, hope’s parents deciding to put a swift end to it. she was quickly engaged, set to be married off to a man she did not know.

torrid wanted to run away with her, leave their lives behind and start anew, free to love each other, free to be together.

but hope was a dutiful daughter. she would do as her parents wished.

the sinclairs attended the wedding. it would be improper were they to decline the invitation. so torrid sat, trapped between her parents, as the woman she loved was walked down the aisle to a stranger.

ember gripped her daughter’s wrist tight as the officiate asked for any objections. she would not tolerate her daughter giving in to impulsiveness and disgracing their family. so torrid held her tongue.

still, as hope kissed her new husband, torrid could stay and watch no longer. she wrenched her arm away from her mother and stood, storming out with tears in her eyes.

they didn’t see each other again.

character time!

alrighty, so, this is not for the campaign i’m building. this is one of my player characters that i didn’t get to use much because that group fell apart. (scheduling is real hard, my dudes. the struggle is real.) she’s a tiefling bard.

this is phelia. she is the only child of lord arxus, a viscount, and was raised with the knowledge that her father would someday marry her off for political gain. this never sat well with her, but she knew it was her duty. fast-learning and clever, phelia had a tongue like a whip and was a quick study. music and storytelling were her specialties, though she was also quite adept at diplomacy and swordplay. she was well-behaved, the picture of nobility, the perfect daughter. and then the day came. her father told her she was to be married, he had promised her hand to an elven earl that she had never met.

she wasn’t ready. so she ran.

she cut her hair and fled from her home. she took a coin purse and a sword, bought herself new clothes, and caught a ride out of town.

her father put out a reward for her return. she was both his child and his most valuable political asset, he wanted her back. as she adventured, she had to avoid suspicion, avoid capture. even her party couldn’t know who she truly was.

(now we get into sideplot i had planned out with the dm but didn’t actually get to have happen.)

eventually, phelia was found out and brought back home. she tried to fight against her father, but in the end, it was her duty to marry the man of his choosing.

still, this wasn’t the end. no, she was to do her duty, marry lord ronan, but the wedding was interrupted. one of the enemies from her time adventuring came bursting in, taking down guard after guard. they knew those little adventurers that had been causing so many issues would be here, easy to take care of. phelia grabbed one of the fallen guards’ swords and engaged. the rest of the party was quick to join, but it was she who got the killing blow.

battered and soaked in blood that was not her own, sword still held firm, phelia stared down her father. she would not marry. not today. not this man. she would choose her own partner. and this was final.

her father could not argue. and so, lord arxus let his daughter go. phelia was free.