A/N: A prompt inspired by RiseupRichonne on Tumblr. A married at first sight fic set in an AU zombie universe. Rick and Michonne are the adult children of the leaders of Alexandria and the Kingdom. Their parents are sure that the pair is a match made in heaven. Michonne wonders what the future holds as they spend their first night together.
"You're sure about this?"
"Rick, you've asked me that at least a dozen times now."
"And I still haven't gotten a convincing answer, Michonne," he implored. His blue eyes seemed to glow preternaturally in the low light of his bedroom. Their bedroom, she realized with a start.
"The sooner we do this, the sooner it will be over with," she lowered herself nervously to the bed, layers of tulle and lace gathering beneath her. She would never have chosen such a garish dress for herself. Unfortunately, her input had mattered little when it came to the subject of her wedding. The man in front of her, her husband, had been vetted and selected with careful consideration. Both his parents and hers were in complete agreement as to their compatibility. She had only met him a handful of times before, on trades and group runs. They'd never exchanged more than a few words at a time.
"We don't have to do anything," his twang was unfamiliar to her ears, but oddly comforting nonetheless. He sat beside her, his tuxedo clad leg brushing hers.
"Except get married," she did not mean to say it, but the words slipped from her lips before she could stop them.
Surprisingly, he laughed, the mirth evident on his face. "Crazy world, ain't it?"
She was inclined to agree. Still, insulting the man she was meant to spend her life with did not seem like the best option. "I didn't mean to offend…"
"No offense taken," he assured her, loosening his tie. He had tanned, calloused hands, the hands of a man who was used to working outside. The sight of them was reassuring. Perhaps he would not mind her callouses. "My parents said they used to do things like this in some places in the world, even before the turn." He continued, studying the tie that was now draped across his lap.
"Apparently, it was effective," Michonne smiled gently at him. "Otherwise, why continue it?" She fiddled nervously with her own fingers, suddenly wanting to be rid of the dress, back with the familiar weight of her katana swung across her back.
"We have to repopulate the world. I guess it takes some coercing," Rick chuckled wryly to himself. "I still think that they could have given us a moment."
"Sometimes we don't get a moment, not in this world." Michonne did not know why, but she was echoing the argument her mother had used against her when this plan had been announced.
"I guess that's true," Rick looked thoughtful. "But we don't have to get started on it tonight. Not if you don't want to." Michonne studied him. She'd never much looked at him in their limited interactions before now. There was little time to focus on anything but survival when you were outside of the walls of any settlement. Rick had always handled himself confidently on the road. She saw now that his confidence extended beyond just work.
"Would you want to?" Michonne questioned him, amused by his seeming lack of nerves. She was impressed, truth be told. He was handling the situation with a grace she admired. She imagined he could have had his pick of Alexandrian women. Now, he was hers. He did not seem bothered by it.
Rick shrugged, a slight blush creeping up his lightly stubbled cheeks. He'd been clean shaven this morning when they said their vows. All four communities had shown up, bells on. It wasn't every day that the communities intermarried, and certainly not two people who were so prominent. Even so, prestige had not earned Michonne the right to pick her own partner. She'd been paired with a fighter as strong as she was, at least according to her parents. Rick was a survivor. Now, they would start a new generation of survivors.
"It wouldn't be so bad," he grinned lightly at her, his eyes raking teasingly over her. She flushed beneath her dark skin, but couldn't help her amusement.
Michonne felt herself beginning to laugh. "Like I said, we might as well." She meant it teasingly, but he did not seem to find the joke funny.
Rick's face contorted at that, as though he didn't like the idea of it at all anymore. Michonne had never known a man in this world to turn down sex when it was offered. The idea that Rick was considering it floored her.
"I'll make a deal with you," he sat up straighter, looking her dead in the eye. "You can ask me questions about anything. I'll answer them honestly. And if after you hear the answers, you still want to get it over with, we can. And if you want to just sleep, we can do that too." His brow furrowed as though he was concentrating hard.
Intrigued, Michonne tilted her head, regarding him. He was looking so earnestly at her that she didn't think she could have refused if she wanted to. "How many questions?"
"As many as you want," he replied easily.
"All right," she considered carefully, wondering where you even began when you wanted to get to know your husband. "How old were you?"
"When it all started?" he understood instantly. "10. I was living in Georgia with my parents. Little place called Kings County. We barely made it out, camped outside of Atlanta for a while, waiting for someone to come save us. When we started losing people, we moved on."
"All the way to Alexandria?" she asked quietly, trying to picture this stoic young man as a small boy.
"After some pit stops, yeah," he got a far-off look that she recognized.
"I was 9," Michonne found herself speaking. "My family lived in DC. My mom had a government job, very important. They got us out. For a while, it was like nothing had changed, like we just moved. Then everything changed when the fences came down."
She remembered that day vividly. It marked the end of her childhood, the beginning of this new life as a warrior.
"How'd you end up at the Kingdom?" he asked her, his eyes on her face. He scooted closer to her and she allowed it, comfortable with the proximity.
Michonne fidgeted with her skirt. "My dad knew Ezekiel from work. They rallied the troops, got people together. I heard your parents did something similar for Alexandria"
Rick nodded sagely. "It took ten years, but they did it." He paused, tugging at the buttons on his dress shirt. "Do you mind if I get out of this? It's uncomfortable."
"Not if you help me with this dress," she gestured to the fabric surrounding her. He obliged with a laugh, unzipping her out of the behemoth creation, laying it carefully on a chair beside their bed. She relaxed against the headboard as he shrugged out of his tuxedo, ending up in an undershirt and boxers.
"Is this ok?" he asked, gesturing to their relative state of undress.
Michonne nodded, waiting for him to take his seat beside her again. "How many walkers have you killed?" she resumed her questioning.
"Lost count sometime when I was a teenager. You?"
"Same," she paused again, considering her next question. Rick beat her to the punch.
"3," he said simply. "They attacked us on the road. Sometimes I think about it."
"5," she sighed, attempting to tuck the memories back into the recesses of her mind. "Two occasions. Both times I was attacked first."
He reached for her hand, his palm covering hers. Michonne flipped her own over, tracing the curves of his palms with the tips of her fingers. The contact was instantly soothing. Rick leaned backwards against the headboard, his curly hair falling into his face as he turned to look at her.
"Next question?" he prompted.
"Who's your best friend?" she needed a reprieve from the seriousness. Rick seemed to appreciate it.
"Tossup between a guy named Glenn and a guy named Daryl. But I'm hoping it'll be you soon."
"Why is that?" his answer surprised her.
"I always figured it'd be nice to be married to my best friend," he said simply.
Michonne smiled, chuckling to herself. Perhaps her parents did know her well. She reached up with her free hand to loosen the complicated coif atop her head. Rick was momentarily distracted by her falling locs, but quickly regained composure.
"You can touch it, if you want to," Michonne told him knowingly. She leaned into Rick, resting her bare shoulder against his. He smiled, reaching for her hair.
"You looked really beautiful today," he muttered softly, his fingers tracing patterns down the long tendrils. "I wanted to tell you, but…" he laughed nervously.
"You looked handsome too," she complimented. In truth, he still looked handsome. His dark curls were getting wild as they escaped his slicked-back hairdo. She could see the muscles in his arms and shoulders, could feel the strength in the hand she was still holding. As far as husbands went, he did not seem so bad.
"You can touch it," he echoed her words, his eyes catching hers as she fixated on his curls. She smiled, twisting her fingers through the silky strands. He mirrored her, releasing her hand to drag both of his through the long curls around her head. "You done with your questions?" he asked.
Michonne met his eyes, struck by how close they suddenly were to one another. "What do you think being married to me will be like?" Her heart was pounding against her ribcage frantically, the way it always raced before a fight. She swallowed, attempting to calm herself, wondering why she was suddenly so nervous.
He ran a finger from her hair to her chin, leaving a trail of goosebumps in his wake. "So far, so good," he teased. One hand found its way back to her hair, the other reaching around to grasp her hand again. "My parents were right about you."
She laughed, the sound too loud to her ears. His touch was doing something to her, something she had not anticipated. "What did they say?" she was truly curious.
"They said that I'd like you," Rick's smile set her heart beating faster. She recalled their wedding, just a few hours prior. Their kiss had been chaste, short, full of nerves. She wanted to remedy that now.
"Can I kiss you?" she asked her final question.
He answered by closing the distance between them, covering her mouth with his own. He was tentative at first, gentle with his attentions, his hands just skimming the exposed skin of her shoulders. Michonne felt fewer reservations the deeper their kiss became, pressing her body fully to his until she was practically in his lap. He ran his hands up her bare legs as she trailed her own down his arms, clutching at the muscles. Heat flooded her as she felt him stiffen beneath her.
"Do you still want to get it over with?" Rick groaned as she rolled her hips into his. She delighted in the sound, deciding then and there that she would coax it from him again.
"No," Michonne held her giggle in at the sight of his disappointed face. She studied him for a moment, taking in his mussed hair and kiss-swollen lips. She wondered if their children would have his eyes. She kissed his cheek, dragging her lips to his neck. "I want you to go slow," she instructed, not recognizing her own breathy tone.
"Whatever you want," Rick assured her, his deep voice sending chills racing through her limbs. Gently, he rolled them both over, settling atop her. Michonne lost her silk slip a few minutes later, but scarcely noticed. Rick's hands were distracting. She clawed and clutched at his own body, gasping and shivering as he lavished her with attention. She could feel him pressing against her, hard and insistent. She guided him into her, unsure which of them was moaning louder as he slowly slid in.
It wasn't long until she reneged on her instruction to go slow, instead panting for her husband to go faster, deeper. He happily obliged. Tension coiled in the pit of her stomach like a tightly wound spring, the events of the last few weeks gathering and pulsating through her. She was married now, to a relative stranger.
She felt strangely happy about it.
White light exploded behind her eyes as the tension gave way all at once, her body convulsing until her new husband let out a strangled cry and collapsed on top of her. Their skin was slick, their breathing labored, but he still dusted kisses down her neck and shoulders. He held her like that again until her breaths slowed down. Michonne was content to lay cosseted in his grasp, listening to the faint thrumming of his heart.
"I was thinking maybe we could take a trip," he whispered, "Just the two of us."
She craned her neck upwards, gazing at him through her lashes. "Like a run?"
"Sure," he nuzzled closer to her, burying his face in her hair. "We can talk then. Get to know each other before…"
"Before we go back to work," she finished for him. They were expected to start a new community, continue the expansion of this new world.
"It's just an idea," he exhaled, his voice trembling a bit.
"I like it," she reassured him, kissing his chin. He relaxed against her. Michonne wound her arms around him, her mind tumbling with thoughts of the future. It had always seemed uncertain to her, a possibility she did not have the luxury to consider. She flattened her palms against the chest of the man lying naked next to her. "It will be nice to have a partner out there," she said quietly.
Rick smiled, dropping a kiss against her forehead. She tilted her face to accept his affections, heat beginning to stir beneath her skin once more.
"I think that this is going to work out, Mrs. Grimes," he breathed against her, sitting up to look at her again with his piercing gaze. Michonne ran a hand down up his face, brushing his damp hair back so that she could look at all of him.
"I think it will," she agreed, smiling.