TITLE: break my cage and spread my wings
SUMMARY: Everyone called the Titanic the 'Ship of Dreams', but for Aziraphale, it was the ship of nightmares, carrying her away from her home in England, and her dreams of freedom, and towards the bleak future of her arranged marriage in America. The only spark of light in the darkness is her new and tentative friendship with the boldly intimate Crowley.
AO3 TAGS: Alternate Universe - Titanic Fusion, Ineffable Wives (Good Omens), POV Aziraphale (Good Omens), Human Aziraphale (Good Omens), Female Aziraphale (Good Omens), Rose Dewitt Bukater Aziraphale (Good Omens), Human Crowley (Good Omens), Female Crowley (Good Omens), Male-Presenting Crowley (Good Omens), Female-Presenting Crowley (Good Omens), Jack Dawson Crowley (Good Omens), Caledon Hockley Gabriel (Good Omens), Ruth Dewitt Bukater Michael (Good Omens), Arranged Marriage, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Flirting, Teasing, Smooth Crowley (Good Omens), Protective Crowley (Good Omens), Hand Holding, Dancing, Touching, Neck Kissing, Light Angst, Temporary Break Up, First Kiss, Kissing, Gentle Kissing, Naked Female Clothed Female, Naked Aziraphale (Good Omens), Insecure Aziraphale (Good Omens), Virgin Aziraphale (Good Omens), First Time, Top Crowley (Good Omens), Bottom Aziraphale (Good Omens), Cunnilingus, Vaginal Fingering, Tribadism, more tags to come (probably), tags only look scary because of all the '(Good Omens)' additives (set by AO3 not me)
Chapter Two: A Gift: An Illusion of Property for the Property
Summary: "But perhaps tonight you would accept this gift as a reminder of my feelings for you."
AN: ADDED TAGS: Happy Ending (because a friend pointed out that that's not a given with this AU)
1912 April 12, Friday - Day 3 (Part Two)
The evening's festivities had been no different than any other party Aziraphale had attended, but she felt exhausted. Perhaps the stress of moving away from her home, and the constant required socialisation and parties aboard the Titanic were finally getting to her. Perhaps it was the high of speaking to someone who actually seemed interested in what she had to say, followed by the crash of forced confinement of those who kept her caged. Whatever it was, Aziraphale had never felt more ready to collapse into her bed, but she dragged herself to her vanity to pull the pins from her hair and brush out the wind-blown tangled curls.
She'd never been able to pinpoint exactly why, but the act of combing her hair had always seemed to calm and relax Aziraphale. Sometimes, it was better when her maid did it, and sometimes it was worse. It all depended on much solitude her soul was in need of. And right now, her soul was in need of a great deal, and she was glad she was alone. With each stroke of her hair brush, she could feel her stress slowly wash away. It was there but… buried, like a sunken ship.
The authoritative rap against her door undid all her hairbrush's work in seconds, making her tense as her door was pushed open without waiting for her approval. She was unsurprised to find Gabriel stepping through, already in his own pajamas, and though her own sleeping gown was appropriately proper, she felt… exposed. Practically naked without the sturdy weight and structure of her wool vest and jacket, her hands feeling vulnerable in the absence of gloves.
Aziraphale set her hairbrush into her lap but couldn't bear to let it go, her fingers tightening around the handle so rigidly that it hurt. It made her feel better, somehow, to hold the wood in her hand, as if she were preparing to wield a weapon. A weapon she knew she never would use, never could use, but it made her feel better all the same.
Gabriel pushed her music box closed and sat on the end of her vanity, almost too close for comfort, his knee almost touching her shoulder. Aziraphale glanced at him, no longer than she needed to to take in his expression, and then her eyes dropped to his chest. He didn't appear to be in a poor mood, but sometimes it was difficult to tell. It was a struggle not to flinch when he moved suddenly, but he only brought a large, flat box, like a necklace box, from his side into his lap.
"I wanted to wait until the engagement gala next week to present this to you," he said, leaning almost too close for comfort, even though he was still barely close enough to touch. "But perhaps tonight you would accept this gift as a reminder of my feelings for you." He said it like there had been some sort of competition, like there was someone else who wanted to marry her, and the idea was almost laughable - there was a reason her mother couldn't arrange a marriage with someone in England. But then Gabriel the box and all the contained laughter in Aziraphale's chest dried up as her heart stopped.
A necklace lay on a bed of black velvet, a gold chain from which hung a large triangular pendant as long as Aziraphale's thumb at the point. Its base was gold, and line with tiny teardrop white diamonds, but it was the massive red gemstone at the center of it all that caught Aziraphale's attention. She might not have owned much jewellery, or even been particularly enamoured by it, but she was not blind to its worth. Especially a gemstone of that size - it would have cost a fortune.
It was hideous.
"Is that-"
"A diamond? Yes. Fifty-six carats," Gabriel said proudly, scooping the necklace almost carelessly from its bed, as if he weren't handling the world's rarest diamond. Was that how Aziraphale was to be treated? No, that was ridiculous. That was how she was already treated.
His arms circled her like a noose, draping the pendant under the line of her collarbone and clasping it closed at the back of her neck. The tips of his fingers brushed her skin and made her flesh crawl, as did the way it felt like he was enclosing in a collar. The necklace settled against her skin, the point of the pendant resting perfectly between the swell of her breasts, and the weight of it pushed down against her chest. Aziraphale felt like she'd just been collared and leashed. She felt like she was suffocating.
"It was worn by Marie Antoinette, and they called it 'La Pomme d'Eden'," Gabriel said, his reflection in her mirror rising and standing tall above her, staring down at her.
"The Apple of Eden," Aziraphale murmured, daring, just for a moment, to reach up and touch the edges of the necklace. But she could only dare to touch the gold, the tiny diamonds. She couldn't bring herself to touch the red diamond. It would have somehow made it even more real that the necklace she now wore was worth more than her life ever would be.
Gabriel lingered behind her for a long moment before crouching at her side. Even without looking at him, Aziraphale knew he was waiting for her attention, and she held out as long as she could, hoping he would speak, but finally she broke and glanced down at him. Somehow, even with his head below hers, it still felt as if he were looming over her.
"There's nothing that I wouldn't provide for you, Aziraphale," he said matter-of-factly, ignoring the fact that he'd denied her everything she'd asked for. She'd never even asked for much, just the occasional book, a dessert when they ate out. Instead, he'd done what her mother had done, ordered her the most fashionable of clothes and the most expensive of jewels. Things that always cost far more than what she'd asked for, but made her mother and Gabriel look better because Aziraphale looked like a doll. Aziraphale had never worn any of it by choice.
She'd never dared to ask for genuine affection, much less love. She didn't have to ask to know that she would never receive either.
"Don't deny me and I won't deny you," Gabriel promised, as if the things she wanted from him weren't different from the things he wanted from her. He smiled at her, and it was the same winning smile he gave young women and their mothers, that he gave his business associates. It was a handsome smile that demanded trust, but all Aziraphale could see in it was a scorpion's promise. "Open your heart to me, Aziraphale."
Open your legs to me, Aziraphale.
Aziraphale turned her gaze back to her mirror, to her reflection, and the hideous necklace hanging about her neck like a leash. She stared at it until all she saw was red, until she fell into the facets of the gem and imagined wings of white.
TBC
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