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 Seven: Breakfast is a Battlefield

Chapter Summary: "Hm. Yes, I would imagine dealing with steerage would be rather exhausting."

AN: I woke up on Saturday, remembered that I needed to update, and then forget. A cycle which repeated every few hours for about 33 hours until now, three hours until Monday starts (for me anyway). lol So anyway, my bad and here you go. lol


A lingering fatigue and an inability to sleep past the break of dawn drove Aziraphale to ask her maid for breakfast alone in their promenade. Sitting in the warm sunlight with a book was a peace she hadn't known she'd been missing - she was enjoying Crowley's attentions, her affections, but their intensity wore Aziraphale ragged. She wasn't used to feeling much of anything, and being the apparent center of Crowley's focus was like stepping from a pitch-black room into midday sunlight: welcomed and wanted but far too much too quickly.

For now, it was enough that Crowley's marks were still staining her skin, the red smeared after a night of restless sleep, worked into Aziraphale's skin like rouge. She just needed this small respite from the rest of the world to try to regain any semblance she had of control.

"Good morning, Aziraphale."

All of the peace evaporated, the warmth of the sunlight and the solitude turning cold on her skin like a winter afternoon. She carefully closed her book and set it far aside, to assure Gabriel that all of her attention would be on him, as he liked it.

"Good morning, Gabriel."

He sat across from her and snapped open a newspaper with such sharp efficiency that it made her tense. Anathema fluttered in after him with an apologetic look towards Aziraphale as she quickly set a place for him and made his coffee. A familiar shame burned Aziraphale's cheeks, that she was always forced to put aside her reading for Gabriel, only to be ignored by him as he did his own. She picked up her teacup, just to have something in her hands, and tried to let the heat of the porcelain warm her again.

"I'd expected you to come to me last night." His voice was cheerful, polite, but it always was. It was a predator's camouflage, hiding the danger underneath.

"I was rather tired," Aziraphale murmured, staring deep into her tea, regretting her decision to dine alone. If she had just forced herself to the dining room, she would have had to endure a table full of women who did nothing but ignore her, but even that would have been preferable to this conversation with Gabriel. Every muscle was slowly tensing, and she wanted nothing more than to flee. To fly away.

"Hm. Yes, I would imagine dealing with steerage would be rather exhausting."

Aziraphale froze. There was no question or speculation to his statement, only knowledge. But how-? Oh, of course.

"I was quite safe," Aziraphale said, fighting to keep her voice even, calm. "You didn't need to have Sandalphon follow me."

Gabriel's paper lowered slowly, and Aziraphale felt dread suffuse her. She swallowed and set her tea down, out of the way. So she was free to run if she needed to, even though there was nowhere to go - Gabriel was not only closer to the door, but he was faster than her. If he came after her, she would be helpless.

"My concern was not for your safety but my reputation, Aziraphale," Gabriel said, the false cheer of his voice like ice in Aziraphale's veins. "You will not involve yourself with third class again, do you understand me?"

Aziraphale swallowed hard. She should have expected this - that she would have fun for the first time in… in memory, and then to be banned from it. She'd learned the hard way, long ago, never to show how much she liked a book, or else it would be taken from her. She'd hoped, at first, that Gabriel was different, but he'd only proved to be worse, going so far as to remove anything she showed any interest in.

"But Lady-" Oh dear, what was Crowley's name? "But Lady Ashtoreth-"

Gabriel snapped his paper again and Aziraphale flinched in surprise, falling silent. "Lady Ashtoreth is not my wife," he said firmly. "You are."

"But I'm not your wife," Aziraphale said, confused, wondering if Gabriel and her mother had signed papers without ever telling her. Like how they'd set up this engagement. She could only pray they hadn't. "I'm your fiancée."

For a long moment, there was nothing but silence, and Aziraphale got the distinct feeling that she wasn't looking at Gabriel, but that she was looking off the edge of a cliff.

A loud crash made her start, and it took a moment to realize that it had been caused by the table between them, and all the china on it, having been sent flying. Gabriel was suddenly so close to her face that he filled her vision, his hands pinning her wrists to the arms of her wicker chair so tightly that it felt like her bones were were being crushed.

"You are my wife."

It would have been less terrifying if his face had contorted with his rage when he snarled his claim. But he never stopped smiling the smile that haunted Aziraphale's nightmares, and it made her feel like prey waiting to be eaten alive.

Gabriel rocked towards her suddenly and Aziraphale flinched away, the movement bringing awareness to the fact that she was positively trembling from head to toe. Although Gabriel had never struck her, Aziraphale was not fool enough to believe that that would last. It was only a question of 'when'.

"Your mother gave you to me to be my wife, and you will obey me as such," he said, his fingers tightening until there was nothing in Aziraphale's world except Gabriel's face and the pain in her wrists. "You have been bought and paid for, and your status as my wife is set in stone, with or without legal registration. So you will honour and respect me as a wife is required to. Is that understood?"

Aziraphale couldn't be sure if she nodded, or if she spoke her assent, but Gabriel said "Good," with a firm nod, and then he was gone.

"Are you alright, Miss Aziraphale?"

Anathema's voice came to her as if she were hearing it through water. Aziraphale blinked and found Anathema standing over her, her face panicked and her hands fluttering about helplessly, as if unsure where Aziraphale was hurt. Aziraphale wasn't sure where she was hurt either - she felt so numb, empty. It was as if she'd been visited not by her fiancé, but a demon, and it had sucked all her hope from her. "Miss Aziraphale?"

"I- I'm s-sorry, Anathema," Aziraphale stuttered, her teeth chattering as if she'd been stuck out in the cold overnight, which she'd had too much experience with. "I d-didn't see you." She raised her hands to her assure her friend and found them shaking so hard that she could barely feel them. "W-we had a l-l-little acc-accident. I can- I can help you-"

Aziraphale reached for the shards of porcelain on the ground and the world shifted. It was only Anathema's gasp and gentle hands on her shoulders that made her realize she'd fallen from her chair, collapsed to the floor. Her face felt wet and when she touched her cheeks and pulled her fingers back, she found them glistening.

"You're alright, Miss," Anathema murmured, wrapping an arm around Aziraphale's shoulders and pulling her into a hug.

It wasn't appropriate, but they had left that long behind them. She'd risked her job to hug Aziraphale her first day, after Anathema had witnessed Aziraphale's mother lecturing her. Aziraphale couldn't remember what, only that the hug had shocked her, the kind touch not unwelcome, but unfamiliar. But needed. So very needed. It felt like the only kindness Aziraphale had ever had in her life. She pressed her face to Anathema's shoulder and let the tears fall, but she couldn't bear to make a sound.

A gentle hand stroked her back through it, and Anathema never once complained. "It's okay, Miss," Anathema whispered. "It's all alright."

TBC


Update next Saturday and don't forget to toss rebloga to your Writer (themadkatter13fanfiction tumblr, post / 190591686323)~