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dwellordream · 3 years ago

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“Eleanor experienced almost fifteen years of regular childbearing after marrying Henry Plantagenet. It was during her early years as queen, while she was bearing a child almost annually, that she was busiest acting as Henry’s regent in England. She would give Henry II nine children within thirteen years. If Eleanor of Aquitaine was a distant figure as mother to her children, so were other aristocratic mothers responsible for supervising complex households. As queen, she had even less time than most for child-rearing. Contact with her children would have been limited while they were growing up.

This was due to circumstances and social custom, not to a lack of maternal feeling, and it is not necessary to conclude that Eleanor was indifferent toward her young children nor that she made little “psychological investment” in them. There is no evidence to show that she and Henry failed to cherish their children, to provide for their care, to place their hopes in their futures, or to experience grief at their deaths. It seems fruitless from a distance of eight centuries to calculate Eleanor’s role in shaping her children’s adult psyches, when thinking on the topic is still influenced by nineteenth-century bourgeois models modified by twentieth-century Freudian psychology.

Yet one fact that stands out is the devotion to Eleanor demonstrated by her sons in their adult lives, and it testifies that their experience of her love was more powerful than their father’s fitful affection. Clearly, the queen had cemented solid ties of affection with them at some point, whether during their infancy or adolescence; and strong maternal feelings would prod her to furious activity after Henry II’s death, struggling to assist first Richard and then John in securing their thrones. As one writer observes, “It is difficult to believe that the devotion shown [Eleanor] by her adult sons and daughters did not grow out of childhood experience, experience that simply left no record in the account books and annals of the court.”

Possibly Henry’s difficulties with his sons were caused by their early and prolonged separations from their father. The fact that they were near-strangers to one another, in some years together only on great festive occasions, can explain in part the ease with which they took up arms against their father and against each other. Along with all medieval mothers, Eleanor was unaware of the significance of earliest childhood for shaping adult personality that modern psychology teaches. The early Fathers of the Church had not shown great interest in questions centering on family life, and twelfth-century churchmen with their ambivalent feelings about women provided mothers with little more direction in carrying out their maternal responsibilities.

Although concern for the care of children was growing in the twelfth century, encouraged in great part by Christian teaching, spiritual counselors offered mothers little counsel beyond advocating emulation of the Virgin Mary, the ideal mother. An exception to the dearth of literature on motherhood is a biography of Queen Margaret of Scotland, written in the first years of the twelfth century as a guide for her daughter Edith-Matilda, Henry I’s queen. It praises Margaret as a model mother, intimately involved with her children’s upbringing; yet the daughter who commissioned it hardly knew her mother, having been sent away at age six to be brought up at an English convent where her aunt was abbess.

Like many other great ladies living in the twelfth century, Eleanor had larger duties in politics and government that she regarded as equally important and perhaps greater than her responsibility for her children’s upbringing. In Henry and Eleanor’s household were retainers of many ranks, ranging from dependent relatives and high-ranking nobles to simple knights or domestic servants of peasant origin, any of whom could be charged with caring for the royal children. As a result, the royal children’s ties of affection would not have been focused uniquely on their parents, but diffused among household members of many ranks.

While differing from typical nuclear families today, the medieval English royal household, overflowing with servants and retainers, had much in common with other medieval aristocratic families. Like them and like European aristocrats or American plutocrats even in the twenty-first century who turn their children over to a series of servants, Eleanor and Henry did not think it unnatural to hand their children into the care of others in the royal household, or even to custodians far from court. Sons and daughters were often sent away at early ages, daughters to be reared in the households of their betrothed and sons given over to the care of others until early adolescence, when they were established in households of their own.

Yet these practices do not negate royal parents’ caring instincts or an awareness of the uniqueness of childhood that is innate in all societies. It is clear that Eleanor and Henry showed great concern for the upbringing of their offspring, choosing with care the personnel who were to supervise them even if their personal participation was limited. The rapidity with which Eleanor gave birth shows that she did not nurse her infant children, for it was uncommon for great ladies to nurse their own babies. As queen, her chief responsibility was ensuring continuity of the royal line by bearing children, not rearing them, and it was widely known that breast-feeding inhibited pregnancy.

Names of some of the royal children’s wet-nurses survive, and they indicate that they were selected from women of free, not servile, status, probably from wives of servants in the royal household. Alexander of Neckham, a scientific writer, Oxford master, and later abbot of Cirencester, proudly claimed that he and Richard Lionheart were “milk-brothers,” for his mother had been the prince’s wet-nurse. Eleanor felt so fondly toward Agatha, one of her children’s wet-nurses, that in 1198, three decades after her child-bearing years, she rewarded her service with a gift of land in Hertfordshire and a year later a more valuable gift, a Devonshire manor.

Agatha was a woman whose ambition Eleanor could admire, and such generous gifts would have made her former servant a woman of some means. Some time, probably before becoming John’s wet-nurse, Agatha entered into a long-term relationship with Godfrey de Lucy, son of the chief justiciar and himself a royal clerk who would win the bishopric of Winchester in 1189 despite being encumbered with a “wife.” Wet-nurses of Eleanor’s children must have resembled nannies in their relations with their charges, providing not only nourishment, but also affection and companionship and remaining with them long after weaning.

After John was brought to England during the great rebellion of 1173–74, the pipe roll records a grant of ten marks to “the nurse of the king’s son,” although he was at least seven years old then. The wet-nurses of Richard Lionheart and John earned their fond feeling, and their affection was returned. When Richard became king, he granted a pension to his nurse, Hodierna. After John’s death, his former nurse Agatha, by then a prosperous widow, remembered him and his son when making a gift of land to the nuns of Flamstead “for the soul of King Henry [III] son of King John.”

When Henry II’s sons were little more than infants, each of them was assigned a “master” or “preceptor” from among members of the royal household. He was assigned responsibility for the young boy, charged with spending on his needs and supervising the servants caring for him. He was not necessarily a cleric, and he did not give lessons; teachers—also called masters—could be recruited from the clerks and chaplains present in any great household. Choosing such a master was Henry’s duty, for noble fathers made major decisions about their sons’ upbringing, although he was likely to have discussed his selection with Eleanor.

A master named Mainard took charge of Young Henry in 1156 when the boy was only a year old, and he remained with him for at least three more years. The division of authority between this official and the child’s mother is unknown, but it must have meant that Eleanor was denied full responsibility for her son’s care, even in early childhood. Forced to share responsibility for her young sons with a male named by her husband, she nevertheless succeeded at some point in their youths in knitting the affective bonds normally binding sons to their mothers.

In 1159, when Young Henry was only four years old, his father placed him in the household of his chancellor Thomas Becket, where sons of nobles were “educated in gentlemanly upbringing and teaching.” There was precedent for Henry’s sending his heir away at such an early age: William the Conqueror had placed his second son, William Rufus, the designated heir to the English Crown, in Archbishop Lanfranc’s household. Henry II may already have been thinking of naming Becket his archbishop of Canterbury and having his eldest son crowned as king while still a boy.

When relations between Henry and Archbishop Becket began to cool, Henry, in October 1163, rebuked his newly installed primate by removing Young Henry from his custody. When the king left for his French territories the next month, he did not send the boy, then about eight years of age, back to Eleanor; instead, he continued to live apart from his mother’s household with a new master, William fitz John, a royal administrator. Young aristocrats were knighted as part of their initiation into manhood, and fathers would find them a mentor to join their household: an older, experienced knight who could prepare them for knighthood with training in the noble occupations of hunting, hawking, and warfare.

After Young Henry’s coronation in 1170, his father assigned such a mentor to the fifteen-year-old youth, the knight-errant William Marshal, much admired for chivalry, but an illiterate with little interest in administration. According to the History of William Marshal, he served as the sort of companion-guide who accompanied heroes of the romances, charged with the Young King’s instruction in courtesy and martial arts, preparing him to take up arms as a knight. Hunting sharpened warrior skills, and all of Henry and Eleanor’s sons shared their ancestors’ love for the chase.

Richard during his youth in Poitou would find pleasure in hunting in his mother’s ancestral forests in the Vendée. Roger of Howden wrote of Henry II’s sons, “They strove to outdo others in handling weapons. They realized that without practice the art of war did not come naturally when it was needed.” Sons of royalty needed to know more than skill in handling horses and weapons, and at twelfth-century princely courts, clerics were advocating a courtly ideal of conduct, challenging old-fashioned knights upholding the traditional warrior ethos of the knightly class.

The counts of Anjou had long prized learning in Latin letters, seen in the excellent schooling that Henry II’s father provided for him, and Eleanor too knew the value of learning. While less is known about Henry’s sons’ formal education than his own, it is certain that they acquired a sound grounding in Latin grammar, although no formal office of royal schoolmaster yet existed at the English court. A letter in the archbishop of Rouen’s name, addressed to the king when Young Henry was only ten years old, however, expresses a fear that the knightly side of the future king’s education was taking precedence over study of the liberal arts.

Perhaps the concern stemmed from Henry’s removal of his heir from Thomas Becket’s custody, and it hints at rivalry between the boy’s clerical and knightly tutors over the two groups’ diverging values. Richard Lionheart knew Latin well, although he is better known for his French verses. Gerald of Wales’s anecdote of the Lionheart’s correcting the Latin spoken by his archbishop of Canterbury gives evidence of his competence as a Latinist. John gained an interest in literature during his youth, and as king he built up a considerable library of classics and religious works. He deposited his books at Reading Abbey for safekeeping and sometimes wrote to the abbot requesting that certain volumes be sent to him.

Although great ladies had responsibility for their sons’ upbringing only until they reached their sixth or seventh year, aristocratic daughters could remain in their mother’s care until adolescence, unless they were betrothed as pre-adolescents and sent away to be brought up by their future in-laws. Like other queens throughout the Middle Ages, Eleanor saw her daughters affianced at early ages to foreign princes chosen for political considerations, and promptly sent far away to grow up at foreign courts. Personal contact by Eleanor with her daughters was difficult once they were sent off to their future husbands’ lands in Germany, Spain, and Sicily, and she had little prospect of seeing them again.

Yet contacts between royal daughters and their birth-parents were seldom entirely severed, and Eleanor doubtless corresponded with her daughters, although no copies of her letters survive. Royal parents maintained contact with daughters married to foreign princes, for their marriages had been arranged for the purpose of serving the family interest, creating or securing alliances. Matilda, Eleanor, and Joanne, married to princes who were conspicuous as cultural patrons, were almost certainly literate.

Late twelfth-century romances depict noble maidens learning their letters, and a renowned preacher, Adam of Perseigne (d.c. 1208), sent the countess of Chartres Latin texts that she could give to her daughters to read with the help of her chaplain or a learned nun. Although instruction in letters must have begun before Eleanor’s daughters left the English royal household, the major portion of their education would have taken place at the courts of their in-laws.”

- Ralph V. Turner, “Once More a Queen and Mother: England, 1154–1168.” in Eleanor of Aquitaine: Queen of France, Queen of England

#eleanor of aquitaine #eleanor of aquitaine: queen of france queen of england #children #history #high middle ages #medieval #wetnurses #education #ralph v. turner

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thegeneralguy · 4 years ago

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The Champion of Olympus - Poseidon´s Passion

Out of all the three realms connected to the earth, the sea was by far the most extensive one. An entire underwater universe lurked beneath the surface, with more diversity in its inhabitants than both heaven and earth. Poseidon was the ruler of that realm, with the responsibility of maintaining the planet itself in balance. Oceanic currents and tectonic movement were crucial for the mortals´ survival. The god of the sea had inherited the realm after the Titanomachy, given to him by the true embodiment of the sea, Oceanus. He and his titan spouse had given birth to many of the phenomena Poseidon had to keep in check.

But the normally boisterous god was unusually quiet, sitting down in his chariot heading back to the cold depths of his kingdom. The words of his brothers resonated within him. Could it really be possible for Typhon to escape? And more importantly, would he be able to protect all the creatures under his rule? Keeping balance was Poseidon´s primary priority, which made the whole situation even more alarming for him. He took the reins tying the hippocampi pulling his chariot and pressured them to move faster. He had to reach the Oceanic Retreat, also known as the sunken city of Atlantis, to consult with the court about his next course of action.

The palace was located in the center of the underwater capital, adorned with bright gems and bright colorful coral. The city was so deep under the sea, it was unreachable by Apollo´s power. But despite the lack of sunlight, luminescent beings shone brightly to light the streets and buildings. Poseidon´s chariot floated over the gates of the palace and parked on one of the numerous sea gardens, which were filled with creatures and coral normally found on superficial reefs. Triton, Poseidon´s heir, and most trusted advisor greeted him from the gates of the palace.

"That bad huh?"

He asked as soon as he caught a glimpse of the god´s grim visage. The muscular deity approached his son carrying his massive trident with ease, the muscles in his arm pulsing with supernatural strength. The strength to make the earth shake and the ocean rise. Both gods rushed inside the palace to his throne room, while Poseidon put Triton up to date. The young deity was eager to learn the ways of Olympus, for when it was his turn to rise to the throne, so he listened carefully every time his father complained about their extended family.

"How fitting of uncle Zeus to find a way to try to compete with all of you. But if what he and Hades said is right, then we have no time to waste."

"It won´t be so easy son. Our job is to keep balance, and granting divinity to a mortal can very much upset the natural equilibrium of the planet. Just remember where we´re standing right now."

The city of Atlantis, once a thriving metropolis of the ancient world, had fallen victim to the whims of a fallen hero´s delirium and a heavenly dispute. After being defeated by the patron city of Poseidon´s niece, the Atlanteans fell into despair. They managed to get the favor of the god of the sea, who granted power beyond belief to their heroic leader. But this human wasn´t meant to rise as a new god, so the rest of Olympus rejected him, and punished the city by sinking it to the depths of the ocean.

While Triton pondered on his father´s worries, they reached the throne room. A glowing golden throne adorned with all kinds of underwater flora and fauna was in the center of the room, surrounded by a half-circle of different chairs more modest, but still ornamental to symbolize the sea´s royalty. Poseidon stood in front of his throne and slammed the enormous trident on the ground, producing an explosive sound that resonated within the entire ocean.

After a couple of seconds, the god of the sea´s call was answered by the most prominent figures in the oceanic realm. A representative for both the Oceanids, sea nymphs and the Potamoi, the rivers of the world, were the first to appear. Poseidon´s spouse Amphitrite also arrived fast and took her place right next to her husband. Polyphemus came next, the representative for the cyclops who were all devoted to the god of the sea. The old man of the sea, Nereus himself, showed up next. His relationship with Poseidon was more like a truce than a hierarchy, but Nereus´ connection to the ocean realm´s mortal creatures, including his daughters, was a good reason to keep him as an ally. The last one to show up was Styx, the embodiment of the river of the same name coursing through Hades´ realm.

As the court of the sea assembled, Triton took his seat on the right of his father and watched as the gigantic god paraded his muscular physique floating across the room.

"As some of you may know, I was summoned by Zeus for an emergency meeting. It seems the original monster is trying to break free from Tartarus. Is that true Styx?"

Automatically all eyes turned to the river´s seat expectantly. After Hades and the chthonic gods, the underworld river was supposed to know all the happenings of the realm.

"I have heard some rumors, but Lord Hades hasn´t told me anything. Things feel pretty normal in the underworld though. I haven´t sensed any fluctuations within my currents, which are pretty sensitive for any changes in the realm."

"That's very strange, but the fates wouldn´t lie. There is no way they would fall victims of a simple rumor."

Answered Poseidon meditating on the river´s answer. Styx was known to be direct and efficient, seeking to form a bridge between the realms so mortal souls reached their resting space safely. It wouldn´t bother to try and deceive the rest of the deities, especially on such a delicate matter. But then, who was lying? Triton raised from his seat and continued talking, trying to explain the situation his father was telling him about a couple of minutes ago.

"It seems the king of the gods has called for a new Champion to be chosen."

"Is that true Poseidon?"

Asked Amphitrite looking at her husband with worry in her eyes. Poseidon´s days of violence ended eons ago, and she was worried a heavenly competition like the trial of the Champion was going to get the worst out of her husband again.

"Zeus commanded each of the twelve Olympians to choose a champion. As you can imagine, I´m very reluctant to do so again."

Answered Poseidon with a serious tone. The last thing he wanted was to put his subjects through another catastrophe, but something smelled fishy in the whole situation. He wasn´t keen on trusting his family, but the odds were too high. He had to assume the worst in order to prepare. Nereus rose from his seat, his long white beard filled with barnacles floating around him, and talked in a raspy voice that sounded like a shipwreck crashing in the bottom of the sea.

"You have to make a choice Poseidon. We cannot risk Typhon getting out, it would mean extinction for our kind. Your newfound love for balance will have to wait until this situation is resolved."

"How dare you tell me how I should act old man. Remember I am the god of the sea, one of the twelve Olympians, and your ruler. I know what is best for my kingdom."

Growled Poseidon angrily, as his trident caused the floor to shake with fury. Nereus smirked slightly, knowing he reached the god´s weakest spot: his authoritarian nature. No matter how he tried to hide it, Poseidon was infatuated by battle and carnage. And he was going to demonstrate to all the sea that the king still had the will of expanding the realm. A Champion of the sea on earth would create the perfect opportunity to take over the terrestrial plane.

"Leave the sentimentalism aside Poseidon. You have to make a choice. Will you risk the present´s balance to secure the future?"

Everyone looked at the silent god of the sea. Poseidon hated Nereus, but he was right. Balance is not worth it if the future is put in doubt. He had made his choice. As hard as it was, he had to gift a mortal again with divinity. Triton stared worriedly at his father. The advisor knew what his king was capable of, and it scared him. But in the end, the risk had to be worth the benefits. He reached to touch his father´s giant shoulder.

"Father…"

Poseidon then raised his trident, as a powerful twisting current propelled him upwards, going through the open roof and heading for the surface. If his brothers wanted a Champion, they were going to have one. For the sake of the ocean, and the balance of the future.

It was a peculiarly cold day on top of the St. Helena frigate. Ltjg. Gabo Ramirez was making his usual rounds on the top deck, making sure everyone was doing their respective tasks. The young man had joined the navy in hopes of finding some stability in his chaotic life. He had always felt attracted to the sea, its vast expanse offering the peace of mind that a problematic orphaned child needed. Growing up on the coast let him escape very often to meet his secret lover. He got infatuated when he was very young, and his mother was still alive. She took him to the beach every day to collect different treasures like seashells or pieces of broken coral in order to make jewelry out of them. Young Gabo felt proud he was helping support his widowed mother.

His father was a fisherman, but he barely had any memory of him, because he died when Gabo was barely a toddler. His mother told him his fishing ship sank during one of the common hurricanes predating on the beautiful Caribbean coast. But even though the sea had taken one of his progenitors away, Gabo couldn´t help but fall deeper in love with it. As he grew up, money grew tight. His mother tried desperately to provide for her son, so he could go to school and do something with his life. Life pushed her to more desperate means, selling herself so her son could have a future. In the end, things turned out grim for the poor boy.

He still remembered the stormy night when someone knocked on the door of their little apartment. A tall police officer told him the bad news. They found her on a bench close to the harbor. His mother died trying to protect her son. His childhood ended on that instant, and he was thrown down an administrative rabbit hole that turned his life into a living nightmare. He jumped from orphanages to foster homes over and over again. He felt like the world had betrayed him, taking his greatest love away from him. The sweet child turned into a sour teenager, who caused trouble and mischief wherever he went. His only refuge was still the sea. After all that had happened, it was the only place where Gabo felt grounded and alive. After his mother passed away it became his greatest love.

After he miraculously made his way through school, he decided to leave Puerto Rico and enlist in the U.S. navy. He was conscious his life needed to take a turn for the better, so he was mentally prepared for whichever challenge the tough military system was going to throw at him. The problem was, he was not physically ready for them, struggling through the first years of training. A life of chaos had left him with a scrawny underfed body, which was agile enough to get him swiftly out of trouble, but not strong enough to face it.

He remained adamant on his decision, and he endured the painful years of training, swallowing his deep survival instinct of fleeing before he was entirely committed. Gabo was used to swiftly getting out of trouble, thanks to his more cowardly nature. But he studied hard, put his life on track, and was rewarded for it. Now he got to spend a life together with his love, the sea, watching its waves flow into the horizon. A blue paradise extended before him.

Ltjg. Ramirez diverted his gaze from the ocean and went back to realizing his tasks to their full extent. The frigate was on standby close to the arctic sea, between Greenland and Europe, so there wasn´t a lot to do. The wind outside was pretty cold, nothing but dark water and a few small icebergs in the surroundings. He went back into the ship to finish his active shift and get something to eat in the cafeteria.

"Hey, Ramirez! Come here, we´re playing poker. This asshole has been running his mouth about beating you all afternoon!"

Said Lt. March calling him to one of the tables, where some of his crewmates were gathered. The person running his mouth was Lt. Krass. He and March were Ramirez´s superiors, but they had grown to like the mousy kid. His skills in gambling were known on the whole ship and made his crewmates and some of his superiors very interested in testing his skills. Life on the streets had taught him everything he needed to know to be a good gambler, and he had a good poker face to finish his killer combination.

"I can gladly take all your money off of you sir."

Said Ramirez laughing as he sat on the table to play with the cards. Sailors had to enjoy every second of interaction, or else they started suffering some mental issues that came with the constant isolation and lack of new stimuli.

"I´m telling you kid if you didn´t look like a toothpick I would´ve beaten your ass for taking a week´s worth of salary."

Said the much bigger Lt. March in an intimidating way, but just with the right amount of joyfulness to let Gabo know he was joking. He could probably pick the small junior lieutenant and throw him overboard if he felt like it.

"Give him a break March. It´s not his fault you´re a dumb player. Besides, I´ll get that money and will take you to a nice bar with it when we touch land again."

Laughed the equally big Krass punching his mate on the shoulder. In fact, Ramirez was probably the smallest man on board. The 24-year-old barely made the height cut on the recruiting process, and although he had gained some muscle mass from the rigorous training, it wasn´t enough to get close to his crewmate´s giant sizes. But his appearance was what caused his crewmates and superiors to gain a certain fondness for the young recruit. He was the runt of the litter.

After a while of laughing at Krass´s dumbfound expression as Ramirez managed to beat him and take all his money as well, the boys called off the night and everyone was in their chambers by curfew. Ramirez laid on his bed feeling the soft movement of the waves rocking his bed, enjoying the sensation. He thought about his mother and the beach in his childhood, as his memories carried him to deep sleep, completely ignorant of the approaching menace on the cold waters of the ocean.

All sailors woke up at five in the morning, swiftly getting out of bed and lining up to clean themselves. Gabo woke up agitated. He had a strange feeling, but he couldn´t exactly distinguish what was going on. He also had strange dreams that night, about a giant black whale stalking the tumbling frigate, whilst he watched powerlessly from the deck of the ship.

"Not a very good night kid? It must be that guilty conscience for stealing from your favorite superior."

Said Lt. March, who was directly in line in front of him. Ramirez managed to get a nervous laugh out.

"It´s nothing, sir. Just a bad dream."

March looked at him with concern. He really cared for the well being of his subordinates, and he was worried being on the sea for so long was starting to take its toll on the novice sailor. He knew the young junior lieutenant was very passionate about his work, but he was still inexperienced to recognize the effects of long-term isolation.

"Listen Ramirez. I´m your superior, but we´re a team. There´s not a lot to do today, so why don't you take it easy just for a day."

The young recruit smiled broadly at the big man in front of him.

"Thanks, sir, but I can handle work. I know what I signed up for."

Lt. March smiled back, impressed at the discipline of his subordinate. This kid was going to go far he thought, as both made their way into the small shower cabin. While they were undressing, Krass approached March and whispered something to him quietly. Ramirez couldn´t hear a word, but judging by March´s expression it wasn´t good news. Krass then left the bathroom, and March turned around to face Ramirez. His big chest was inches away from Gabo´s face, and his lower part was tightly covered by a small towel.

It wasn´t a secret Ramirez was into both men and women. All his crewmates respected his orientation and felt comfortable around him. So much they didn´t mind parading themselves naked from time to time, testing the young recruit´s self-control. It was harder in the beginning, but now Gabo was used to it, casually having conversations with his fellow naked sailors. He still enjoyed the show, only silently and respectfully. He has had few sexual experiences in the past, but nothing to boast about. Still, his crew was untouchable for him, the comradery far outweighing the lust.

March was another story though. The man sported an impressive physique build through years and years of discipline and hard training. His chest was very prominent, followed by a big muscular gut that was still a couple of inches behind. Powerful arms capable of pulling even the heaviest anchor hung to his side, and tree trunk legs supported the almost 300 pounds man. He was also a good head taller than Ramirez, making the younger sailor a dwarf in comparison. Even though Ramirez tried his best, he couldn´t help but feel a certain level of attraction for the muscular man. After gawking at his superior´s body for enough time, Gabo looked up to hear what he was about to say.

"It seems there is a storm heading our way. It´s gonna be a full day of work after all Ramirez. You´ll get your chance to shine."

Ltjg. Ramirez never faced an open sea storm on his few months on board, so he didn´t know what to expect. A feeling in his gut was telling him to pretend he was sick to stay under the deck, but Gabo was no coward. He was going to do his work and prove why he was there among those big burly men. He finished showering and looked at himself in the mirror.

His dark brown hair was neatly cut in a conscription cut, perfectly square and short. His young face had a scar on his chin product of a street brawl a couple of years ago, but his features still retained the innocent look that came with youth. His beautiful light brown skin was free of any blemishes. His smooth body had slight muscle definition, but more because of little body fat than actual lean mass. He quickly glanced inside the towel to look at his manhood. He couldn´t be disappointed because there were smaller dicks around, but he was nowhere near to someone endowed. He was more like on the average to the low part of the scale. He was feeling good and confident about himself today. Gabo quickly put on his uniform and rushed outside to start his tasks for the day.

He headed up the deck to quickly brush the floors, check the analog temperature measurements and check that the lifeboats were in a good state. People quickly mobilized after news of the storm spread around. The captain made a formal announcement during lunch, telling the crew they should brace for the storm in the early hours of the night. No one seemed to be too scared about it, making their usual jokes and talking loudly lie every day. Still, the feeling in the pit of his stomach was starting to bother Ramirez. He had a bad feeling about today. And as a kid from the street, Gabo knew trusting his feelings was crucial for survival. The nerves were causing him to barely touch his food.

Lt. March noticed the kid staring quietly at his tray. It was unusual for the lively Latin kid to go dead silent, so he approached and sat down next to him.

"Don´t worry kid, it´s just a storm. Occupational hazards. It will be gone sooner than you think."

Even though Ramirez loved the sea, storms were always a cause of anxiety for him. He was reminded that a storm killed his father. And worse of all, a storm was raging the night he found out about his mother. Storms were a bad omen for him. He turned around to face the rugged, but the concerned face of his superior.

"I trust you, sir. It´s just I have a bad history with storms."

"I assure you kid, it´s gonna be a better night than one with you taking all my money."

The light-hearted joke made both men laugh, as the tense aura around Gabo dissipated. He trusted his lieutenant. He saw in him the father figure he never had. They finished eating their meal and dispersed around the ship to finish the preparations for the bad forecast. When the sun started setting down is when the dark clouds started gathering over the frigate. Strong winds pushed everything exposed to the surface, and increasingly agitated waves crashed against the ship, making the most remote corners of the shell creak under the water´s pressure. Ramirez finished his tasks on deck and looked to the horizon for the last time of the day. An ominous dark mass was approaching the ship. Little droplets started falling from the sky. They were the last preface of what was about to come. The junior lieutenant went back under deck quickly as the slow rain turned into a tempestuous downpour.

He found his crewmates in the cafeteria as usual, but there were no games this time. Everyone was eating quietly, expectant of the first order barked through the loudspeakers. March wasn´t there, nor Krass. Ramirez assumed that command was having a meeting about the current situation. He sat down on a corner with his tray, unable to take a bite. All his instincts were telling him to run, to get out of there swiftly, so he could survive. Ramirez was fighting his innate fleeing nature. He kept reassuring himself why he got enlisted, why he was doing everything he was told to. He wanted stability, he craved it. But a part of him didn´t want to leave his past self behind. It was what kept him alive for so long after all. But he couldn´t go back to fleeing from his problem. And most important of all he couldn´t let his crew know he was so scared. Bravery in the face of adversity was a virtue after all. This little sacrifice was for his future self, and no one else.

The sailors left the cafeteria quietly. One by one they retired to their chambers. Ramirez followed his crewmates and was able to go to bed early as he didn´t have any guard shift that night. He zoned out for a while, unable to reach deep sleep. After a few hours, around midnight, the alarm made him jump out of bed and get dressed. He got out of his chambers to see all his crewmates heading for the upper doors. The hallway was lit red, and a reverberating sound echoed through the passages of the frigate. Ramirez tried his best not to fall due to what he assumed was disorientation until the entire crew including him were thrown to the side. He wasn´t dizzy, it was the waves crashing against the ship that caused it to rock back and forth intensively.

When he made it to the upper deck, his fellow sailors were all running to their stations. Many went to prepare the lifeboats, while others reinforced the previously tied up materials so the storm couldn´t blow them again. Ramirez went to his emergency station next to the edge to secure the supplies he was supposed to. The sky was completely painted black, like the furious sea bellow him. Rain poured down intensively, and an icy wind blew with all force against the ship and its crew. Ramirez was freezing, his frail body more exposed thanks to its lack of body mass, and the tempestuous currents kept throwing him around like a little leaf during an autumn breeze.

A big wave crashed against the frigate, making the vessel lean completely to the opposite side. One of the crates on the opposite side of Ramirez got untied and came sliding fast towards the terrified recruit, who was holding on to the rails on the edge for his life. He turned around just on time to see the giant box charging against him, and closed his eyes preparing for the inevitable. He immediately heard his name echo in the distance and felt a powerful pair of hands push him from the back out of the crate´s trajectory. Ramirez looked back just in time to see his protector Lt. March flies off the board into the raging waters below.

"Lt. March!"

Screamed the tearful junior lieutenant. His fear was completely erased in an instant, triggering his quick reaction speed. He grabbed a safety rope next to him and without thinking he threw himself into the mouth of the beast. The black waters of the sea swallowed him whole. The only thing he felt was a bone-chilling sensation taking over his entire body, as he swam in the direction of his superior.

"Kid what are you doing here?! You crazy son of a bitch!"

Said March in a mixture of awe, anger, and gratefulness.

"It´s my duty to protect my crew lieutenant! Quick, grab the rope!"

He handed over the rope to the more experienced March, who started tying a strong knot so the crew could pull them out. Their brief moment of relief ended in an instant, as another giant wave stroke from their side this time, separating the young Ramirez from his lieutenant. The crew started pulling the rope, just to get only March back on board. The big man immediately perched on the edge and frantically searched with his eyes for the young subordinate.

"Ramirez! Ramirez!"

But only darkness remained, with no sight of the young recruit. Meanwhile, Ramirez struggled to swim against a powerful current. He considered himself a good swimmer, having grown close to the water. But no matter how hard he kicked and flailed, the underwater stream kept pulling him downwards. The cold was starting to numb his senses, as he let out a last bubble of breath and his unconscious body was dragged into the infinite abyss.

Ramirez then woke up surrounded by complete darkness. He was laying on a rocky wet floor, dripping wet and feeling breathless. He coughed a couple of times, expelling a good amount of water out of his lungs. He stood up, but couldn't see anything around him. There was no breeze, no sound, absolutely nothing. He was about to take a step when a strong voice made him freeze in his tracks.

"Lt. Ramirez. I´ve been looking for someone like you."

"Who are you? Where am I?"

"Those questions don´t matter anymore child. You´re under my protection, that´s all that matters."

He then heard a resounding metallic sound against the rocky floor and was completely shocked by what he saw. The trident of the god of the sea emitted a powerful glow, which then seeped into the cracks on the bedrock bellow to illuminate Ramirez´s surroundings. He was inside a big air compartment under what it seemed to be the ocean, and in front of him was an extremely muscular man holding a giant trident. Poseidon then approached the young lieutenant, holding up his chin with his strong hand.

"You will do just fine. Your potential is unmeasurable, and you know the meaning of suffering and the price of balance. A noble soul like you will be of great use to me and my realm."

"I have to get back to my ship sir. Please help me, my crew is in danger."

Said Ramirez nervously while he scanned the god in front of him with his eyes. The prominent chest was probably as wide as Ramirez holding both of his arms to his sides, with strong protruding abdominal muscles supporting it. He had the biggest arms he had ever seen, even among the famous bodybuilders he always liked to watch on the internet. His lower body was even more powerful. He was only wearing the lower part of a short white robe, with gold accessories adorning his wrists and belt. Two penetrating blue eyes glowed like the deepest of oceans, set as the highlight of a rugged but beautiful face. The cherry on top was a luscious chestnut-colored beard falling right on top of his upper chest. Poseidon noticed the way this kid was looking at him and smiled broadly. He liked his ego stroked like all the gods.

"The ship was spared. But that passion is what I´m looking for. A loving protector, who is strong enough to crush anything on his way."

He pointed his trident towards the young lieutenant and smiled.

"Meet me on the base of Mount Olympus in Greece by the next full moon. I will grant you the true love of my kingdom, in exchange for your loyalty and strength. I´m counting on you."

A blue light came out of the trident, completely enveloping Ramirez. The cold sensation was gone, together with the exhaustion he felt before regaining consciousness. When the light faded, Poseidon was gone. The air bubble around him started popping, letting water in again. Ramirez was quickly swallowed by the ocean, having only time to briefly hold his breath. Once he could not hold it any longer, he coughed only to find out he was able to breathe normally underwater. He also thought about how he practically was immune to the pressure of the sea above him, not feeling any strain on his body.

He took off his uniform so he could swim better, leaving him only wearing the pair of black boxer shorts he had on, and started exploring his surroundings. The light the trident had infused on the ground remained there and formed a path leading the young sailor forward into the darkness. After swimming for a while, he found the strangest creature he had ever seen. A beautiful horse with the tail of a fish was waiting at the end of the illuminated road. The animal looked at Ramirez, and he immediately knew what he had to do. He floated towards the hippocampus, and rode on its back, grabbing its neck as the animal swiftly swam towards the surface.

He must have been pretty deep thought Ramirez because it took a long time until he saw the weak rays of sunlight replace the absolute darkness he was in before. He could feel the water caressing his body, but it opposed little resistance to the fast creature and the young sailor on top. It also wasn´t cold like before, but getting warmer the more the sea horse carried him through the vastness of the ocean. He was fascinated by its massive expanse and could feel its sheer power pulsating through the water.

They passed all kinds of sea creatures like schools of fishes, dolphins and even a few whales. Ramirez´s connection with the sea grew stronger, together with his love for it. He was so enthralled by the fascinating view in front of him that he missed the sensation the stronger current was causing on his body. The swirling water quickly surrounded him, tying him to the back of the hippocampus and constraining his limbs. Ramirez felt a dull pain product of the waters slowly pulling his limbs and spine further away from each other, rapidly adding inches to his height until the formerly short sailor reached a towering 7 feet height. The pulling didn´t stop there though, as each bone grew to form the canvas for the muscle that was coming in next.

The warm water caressed and massaged each individual muscle, transferring the titanic strength of the ocean to them. The legs holding on to the hippocampus started growing first. It looked like water was being pumped directly into his skin. Quadriceps strong enough to crush rocks between them formed on his upper legs, with edges carving themselves out of the gigantic muscles. His calves were pulled apart and rearranged by the current until two diamond-shaped calves replaced the former toothpick lower legs. His feet grew even bigger for a man his size, necessary for the swift propulsion underwater. The growth moved to his butt cheeks, the sensation finally making Ramirez aware of what was happening to him. He felt a strong cramp in his ass, as both glutei raised further and further from the back of the sea horse. His underwear strained to the maximum under the pressure of the new watermelon-sized ass cheeks.

Ramirez watched his lower body turn into the one of a card-carrying professional bodybuilder. The sensations invading his body were too intense for him to remain calm. He felt incredible awe for the creatures that were crossing through his sight. He felt the warm and pleasurable caress of the water on his body. He felt the strong rocking of the hippocampus´ swimming. And he felt a crushing pain as the pressure in the water reformed his body. He let go of the creature to grab his stomach in pain. He felt like the water was suctioning each individual brick in his abdomen out, and he was quickly left with a powerful eight pack cut into his midsection. His Adonis belt protruded out of his sides, and his serratus muscles carved themselves so deep it looked like the man had developed gills.

Ramirez then felt the current push him from the back of the sea horse, and the sailor fell to the back watching the creature swim away from him. He immediately began swimming trying to reach it, but his newly developed lower body still moved clumsily lacking the coordination needed to move such a heavy mass. Ramirez focused all of his strength on reaching the hippocampus when suddenly a strong water current propelled him forward and he was able to reach the creature. He then realized he was practically flying underwater, enjoying the freedom of moving like a torpedo through the ocean. He swam graciously together with the hippocampus, both dancing synchronized to the rhythm of the waters.

Small whirlpools formed around his brown nipples, sending waves of pleasure through the man and increasing their size to fit into the new gigantic chest that was about to come. His pectoral muscles squared on the lower end, and then pushed further out inflating like two water mattresses. The water was putting so much pressure on his upper body the sailor felt his bones were going to get crushed. Ramirez was left with a herculean chest powerful enough to fight the roaring waves of a tsunami. His shoulders were next, as each deltoid inflated bigger than cannonballs with enough strength to lift an anchor above his head.

He then felt the current pull his arms so hard he thought they were going to be ripped apart. The pressure in his muscles made him wince in pain, while his triceps dripped and grew like marlin´s dorsal fin, pushing the former noodles to the sides of his body, and his biceps inflated like water balloons about to pop due to their sheer size. Massive sinews formed on his upper arms, and his hands grew massively muscular, wide enough to push large amounts of water on a single stroke.

He examined both of his new arms when a cramp in his back made him bend forward and scream in pain. He felt the water vibrating on his spine, spreading the sensation to every muscle like a flare. The upper back started extending and rounding up like a turtle shell, and the lats on each side protruded so far, he looked more like a giant T instead of a V. His back was by far the strongest muscle on his body, designed to propel the new man through the chaotic waters with ease.

The current then swirled around his neck, starting to choke him. The traps raised to connect to his ears and complete the growth of the monstrous back. He could hear his grumble grow lower as his neck expanded with muscle, leaving his head looking like a tiny pin on a godly body. The pain was overwhelming the young sailor. He opened his mouth to let out a painful scream when suddenly water flowed into his body with intensity. Veins started popping out of his limbs, improving the oxygen saturation, and therefore endurance for the giant.

Large veins popped on his lower abdomen, and then he felt an excruciating pressure pushing behind his manhood. His penis then started inflating, far surpassing the limits of the already strained underpants, which were ripped off by the strong currents. His newly improved appendage kept growing and pulsing so much, Ramirez thought it was going to explode. It stopped growing at almost a foot in length, and a jaw-breaking girth. It looked like a glass bottle that was hanging from his legs. His balls were next, inflating to an equine size and falling heavy between his monstrous legs.

Male hormones combined with divine power started flowing through his body, boosted by the invading water current inside of him. He felt a cracking pressure on his head, which grew proportional to the new body size. His angular face grew more masculine, his jaw broadening into a thick square, and his brow pushing further over his eyes giving him a menacing look. His nose then cracked and widened, while his lips plumped a bit more. His already short dark brown hair retreated into his scalp, leaving him with a short buzz cut. The amount of testosterone in his body was so high, his hairline receded a little bit. His face was then invaded by a permanent shadow with the potential of growing a thick beard. The rest of his body sucked in his body hair, leaving his smooth. His beautiful brown skin darkened a bit more. His pores then started producing a small amount of oil, that gave him a shiny look and helped him oppose little resistance to the forces of the sea, making underwater travel far easier.

The current then stopped forcing its way into his body and released his limbs from their invisible shackles. Ramirez started touching his body incredulously, incapable of dimensioning the change he just went through. He felt the raw power of the sea pulse within him. He touched his face and felt his young skin under his fingers. His scar was gone too. The sight of the new man might have been bizarre, due to him still looking young despite his overwhelming masculinity. Ramirez was so distracted by his new body, that he missed the waters getting slowly more superficial and the hippocampus turning around and leaving back into the abyss.

The sailor propelled himself further into the shallowing waters when he was suddenly greeted by the figure of a beautiful young man sitting on an underwater rock. He couldn´t be older than the junior lieutenant, although his presence and demeanor felt older than civilization itself. His long hair flowed along with the current, glistening with silver light. He had the carved body of an Olympic swimmer, with defined and strong limbs made to love underwater and a very wide back developed from physical activity in the sea. He was also completely smooth, the only hair on his body remaining on his head, eyebrows, and long eyelashes. He beamed a white smile as radiant as the sun at the stranger.

Ramirez approached the young Adonis with a dumbfounded expression on his face. Even though his sexual experience was limited, he was very familiar with the feelings of lust invading his body. Only this time, they were overwhelmingly strong, almost clouding his entire conscience. The man got up from the rock and touched Gabo´s muscular chest.

"Father was right, you turned out better than expected."

He had a melodious hypnotic voice almost too beautiful to be coming out of a hunk like him. Ramirez looked down at the man caressing his body. His knees shook nervously, while he let himself be seduced by the apparition before him. But something in his mind suddenly snapped. He felt the pressure from before again, only this time inside his thoughts as if the water was rinsing the old cowardly nature of the sailor. For some reason, the situation didn´t feel right. He was the one supposed to be doing the seduction, not the other way around.

He took the young man from his legs and pulled him close to his body raising him to his same height. He then proceeded to passionately make out with the stud, both their tongues dancing in each other's mouth. Ramirez felt like sea spume was filling his head, making it harder and harder to focus. He started losing his grip on reality. Like waves carving and molding the strong rocks underneath, the magical power carved out a new man out of the young sailor. More and more dominance asserted itself into his persona, replacing the old more submissive nature. His body language was a dead giveaway of what was happening in his mind.

The sea hunk noticed how his lover´s kiss started to grow more aggressive, invading his mouth with a strong tongue. His big hands started squeezing the young man´s ass, ways of pleasuring a person during sex being engraved in his memory. Years of experience pushed their way into the new man, his face growing more rugged with lines of age and his body gaining more thickness that comes with years of labor. His giant manhood was already grown at full mast, stroking the cheeks of his prey like a sea serpent just before attacking and spreading his self-produced oil on his skin. The young man then guided the hard rod to the entrance of his body, pushing down ever so slightly to get the head in.

The hunk had been with many lovers before, but this was still considered to be a very big phallus. He carefully slid down in order to accommodate the muscular man´s size inside of him. Ramirez kept fighting the tide inside his head. He was scared of changing, of letting go of who he was. A part of him still wanted to flee and pretend none of this had happened. But remembering his hometown beach stopped his train of thought. He remembered the beautiful waters shining in the sunlight, of all the creatures dependent on them, from little crabs on the beach to the big metropolis of the world. The ocean´s ecosystem was the most important one in the world, and it had to be protected. The love he felt for the sea turned into a massive tidal wave inside of him that finally broke down all his mental barriers and completely dragged his old personality out of existence. He didn´t have to flee anymore, he possessed the strength to break the earth and part the ocean. He could destroy anything that got in his way of protecting what he loved.

Ltjg. Gabo Ramirez was reborn in the form of Gabriel, the name his mother had originally given him, and the new protector of the sea. The last bits of his personality evaporating like the sea breeze under the scorching sun. His young lover watched in awe as the eyes of the titan started to glow, and a deep blue color washed his former brown irises away. Once his manhood had entered the hunk completely, he started thrusting back and forth with the strength to shake the earth. He was a god among men, and he had the right to be pleased. Still, he liked to share the pleasure with his lovers, and care for them. He liked feeling like the strong protector he was born to be. The young sea hunk smiled broadly knowing the transformation was complete, and let himself be completely dominated and pleased by the titan inside of him.

The sun was already setting when Gabriel came out of the warm waters. He wasn´t in the frosty northern sea anymore but the warm coasts of southern Greece. He was only wearing the bikini strap the young hunk had given him once they parted ways, along with a kiss and the promise of meeting him again. Gabriel looked at the vast sea before him and smiled. He was going to do whatever it took to protect his new home. He was going to honor his Lord´s will by conquering and crushing anything in his way. He still had a couple of days before the full moon, which should be enough to get to Mount Olympus. He then thought about all the life and all the pleasure he could have on his way. He was going to bless a lot of mortals with his sexual prowess. He took one last deep breath before heading inland, his nostrils filling with the salty smell of the sea breeze along with his own radiating masculine scent, his skin shimmering under the setting sun. The giant then disappeared into the prairie, ready for whatever challenge the world may throw at him.

In the distance sitting next to a cliff was Nereus, watching the newly chosen one walk towards his destiny. He found the Olympians obnoxious, but he had to admit they did a pretty fine handiwork. The new man looked like he jumped out of a perverted fever dream, with enough power to shatter the earth with each step.

"He really does feel like he looks, father."

A joyful voice said on the back. Nereus turned around to see his own son Nerites staring playfully at him. The young god loved to play around but was filled with respect for his father. The beautiful merman smiled broadly at the old man, who gave him an approving nod.

"Well done son. I knew Poseidon needed a little push. I´m glad to see his opus got your sign of approval."

"It´s going to be an interesting time after all. Life is just fun."

Said Nerites enthusiastically as both gods stared into the distance wondering about the Olympian´s intricate rivalries and plots in the sky.

#musclegrowth #transformation #championofolympus

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gardenofkore · 4 years ago

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“Sicily’s women have always been shadowy figures, crouched quietly in doorways or gazing down the crowded streets from balustraded or shuttered windows. For most of the medieval period they have left no direct record of themselves, since, with a few exceptions, they could neither read nor write - and even the possession of literacy, for those few lucky enough to enjoy it, did not give one the right to act or speak independently. As a consequence, very few records survive to shed light on their activities, and virtually none of the records we have present the women in their own voices. In the intensely conservative society of Sicily, women lived their lives under tight constraints; the traditional roles that society gave them gravely limited their freedom to act and ours to behold. Local customs, in general, were designed to isolate and protect women from the outside world, to keep them safely ensconced in their fathers’ homes until they could be safely and just as absolutely ensconced in their husbands’ homes, or, for the devout and dowry-less, dedicated to God in a nunnery. Not until the Vespers era - an era inaugurated with a rebellion sparked by an Angevin outrage against a native woman - do Sicily’s women come into view with any meaningful detail of focus. Our view of them is still partial and imperfect, given the limitations of even this improved documentation. But the extant evidence holds a few surprises.The most visible figures belong of course to the aristocracy. After 1282, and as a result of it, Sicily’s queens played important roles in society. The Catalan dynasty placed the bulk of its claim to the throne on its marriage link with Constance, the last of the Hohenstaufens. Consequently, the right to inherit title and property through the female line was well established. Frederick’s and James’s father, although he had conquered the realm and had received the acclamation of the Communitas Sicilie, consistently emphasized his right to rule through his marriage to Constance; and Frederick too, as we saw earlier, asserted his inheritance of Constance’s patrimony, rather than his election by parliament, as the chief legitimation of his kingship. As queen, Constance began the practice of sitting in the MRC and taking her place in the king’s inner circle of advisers. Extant records show her working to reconcile the church to the new dynasty, to foster greater unity of action among Sicily’s contending factions and regions, and to educate the new ruling caste to Sicilian customs. When Peter left the island in order to tend to matters in Catalonia, Constance headed the lieutenancy council that governed the realm in his absence; and she continued to advise the throne during James’s reign. As late as 1296 her aid was still sought by those who wanted to influence decisions at court, although the extent of her influence by that time had clearly waned.Frederick’s wife Eleanor likewise was a member of the council and exerted a fair share of influence. As with Constance, this influence had more to do with economics than ideology. As independent ruler of the camera reginale, the queen controlled a large segment of the vital Val di Noto, the most important city in which was Siracusa, with a steady population of nearly 8,000 throughout the reign. Adding the other sites that made up the apanage, she ruled a population of some 20,000 individuals. Her camera was the site of two of the most important trade fairs - at Siracusa, beginning on the Feast of the Nativity of the Virgin, and at Lentini, at the Feast of the Ascension - and represented as well a significant venue for wine, grain, and salt exports. Siracusa itself, in fact, held a monopoly on all exports from the confines of the city northward through all the coastal territory of the Gulf of Augusta. So important had the city become as a trading center, especially for the eastern and southern trade routes connecting Sicily with Greece, Egypt, and Malta, that the Siracusan salma was made the standard measure for all agricultural produce in the eastern half of the kingdom. In 1299 the government awarded the city a toll franchise that freed its produce of the inland duties levied upon other domestic trade; the franchise was to be lost, however, if the land under the city’s control was alienated or enfeoffed. This resulted in a rather static social structure, since land seldom changed hands. In later years, when the queen wanted to reward anyone or felt the need to make additional grants in order to purchase loyalty, she circumnavigated the prohibition of alienating the land by granting instead various rights (pasturage, herbage, water access, etc.) over the land, but not the land itself. The general strength of the commercial economy, however, made Siracusa, and the entire camera, for that matter, an attractive site for the thousands who fled the decay and poverty of the Val di Mazara. It was the sole region in the kingdom that experienced an increase in its population, in absolute numbers, during Frederick’s reign.Eleanor held full powers of criminal and civil jurisdiction over the district, and, through her hired agents, administered an independent machinery of tax collection. Few records survive from her administration. But what evidence we have indicates that she took her responsibilities seriously, even though she did not always choose well in appointing her officials. A personal favorite whom she introduced at court in 1307 and to whom she entrusted some minor diplomatic errands, Pere Ferrandis de Vergua, proved to be a flatterer and opportunist, a corrupt official who wooed and wedded a series of wealthy widows and young heiresses. On Eleanor’s recommendation, the MRC appointed Pere Ferrandis royal tax collector for Caltavuturo, where his flagrant abuse of his position led to vehement popular protests and ultimately to his impeachment; and when Pere later was found to have forged a number of documents - most notably his first wife’s will, arranging a bequest of 2,000.00.00 to himself - he was banished from the realm. Ultimately, he conspired to murder Frederick, whom he blamed for his failure to win the position in society that he felt he deserved.Eleanor was intensely pious. From the day of her arrival in Sicily - she married Frederick as a stipulation in the Caltabellotta treaty - she threw her considerable energy into rebuilding thekingdom's shattered churches and monasteries, and to raising new houses, hospitals, and evangelical schools. She funded the construction of Castrogiovanni's duomo in 1307, according totradition, by selling the entire collection of her royal jewels. She generously endowed any number of religious houses, within her camera and without. In the area around Paterno, for example, shegranted lands, curial rights, and cash to the monastery of S. Maria di Licodia, in return for the monks' prayers on behalf of the royal family. The gift was prescient, in its way, since Frederick died inPaterno while en route to Castrogiovanni. Her advocacy for religious houses continued well after their founding and endowment. Especially in the case of nunneries, Eleanor remained involved in their daily lives by observing elections to abbacies, the recruitment of nuns, the regularity of their worship, and their treatment of relics. She visited nunneries throughout the realm, often with her children in tow, and regularly participated in their worship, showing an early preference for Franciscan houses.Above everything else, she seems to have considered it her fundamental responsibility to promote religious observance and moral reform. Although overt, specific evidence about her relationship with the evangelical movement is lacking, a number of clues survive that show her to have been an enthusiast for the Spirituals. We have seen already that she took seriously Arnau deVilanova's injunction that she and her handmaidens should perform public rituals in every duomo and hospital in every city they visited, dressed as personifications of Faith and Hope, "so that inthis way the people may have a vision [like that] of the Mother of God entering a place of misery to comfort those who are there." It was probably in such garb that she led the procession of the relics of St. Agatha around the confines of Catania, during the eruption of Mount Etna. She not only held vernacular readings of the Scriptures on Sundays and feast days, but she further commissioned a vernacular translation of the Dialogues of Gregory the Great, for the edification of the royal children, one of the few substantial texts in Sicilian dialect that survives from Frederick's reign. Even in a mundane duty like appointing a new bailiff to preside over her territory at Paterno her concern for the spiritual life of the community dominated all other considerations. When she appointed Ruggero Gala to be bailiff, in 1311, at the height of Sicily's flirtation with Arnau's prophesies of the kingdom's apocalyptic role, she specified that his first and foremost duty was "that he should take diligent care, if he should find anyone blaspheming against God, the Blessed Virgin, or the saints, or anyone speaking ill of the Royal Majesty, that he should take no sureties [i.e. promises to appear in court as summoned] from them, but should immediately seize their persons and take them captive to the justiciar of the province." Under Sicilian law, most accused criminals had the right to post bail and remain free until their trial; but the passionate atmosphere of the evangelical realm would permit no such freedom to those who were even rumored to be guilty of blasphemy. In lock-step with Arnau's teachings and the Ordinationes generates, the queen directed her bailiffs also to arrest anyone caught playing at dice or cards. But Eleanor, for as much as she helped to establish a general atmosphere of family concern and reformist piety, was merely one woman, and hardly representative of the majority.”

Clifford R. Backman, The Decline and Fall of Medieval Sicily. Politics, religion, and economy in the reign of Frederick III, 1296-1337, p. 285-290.

#history #women #history of women #women in history #historical women #aragonese-spanish sicily #Constance II of Sicily #eleanor of naples #myedit #historyedit #people of sicily #women of sicily #frederick iii of sicily

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dailyrothko · 5 years ago

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Mark Rothko died on this day in 1970. His work left an indelible impression on millions of people. His art cast a light in my mind at an early age, which is why I chose to start this blog; so I could have a little Rothko every day to enrich the hours. No matter what we read in books, or see in plays, the real artist is always available to us through their art. To paraphrase Schopenhauer, it is itself the last judgement on it.

The New York Times ran his obituary on the front page the next day. Here is the transcription of it:

Mark Rothko, a pioneer of abstract expressionist painting who was widely regarded as one of the greatest artists of his generation, was found dead yesterday, his wrists slashed, in his studio at 157 East 69th Street. He was 66 years old. The Chief Medical Examiner's office listed the death as a suicide.

Mr. Rothko had suffered a heart attack last year, and friends said that he had been despondent in recent months.

Like most American artists of his generation, Mr. Rothko's early career was marked by struggle and was untouched by recognition. His fortunes rose with those of the American brand of painting known as abstract expressionism, in whose development he had played a crucial role, along with Jackson Pollock, Willem de Kooning, Robert Motherwell, Adolph Gottlieb and Clyfford Still.

Today, Mr. Rothko's monumental canvases, in which simple rectangles of glowing col or seem to float on the canvas, are known and collected throughout the world. Mr. Rothko's significance as a painter was underscored by a retrospective exhibition of his works in 1961 at the Museum of Modern Art, which at the time only gave such shows to living painters of worldwide reputation.

Yesterday, William S. Rubin, chief curator of painting and sculpture at the museum, said: “The loss to modern art is incalculable. One of the pioneers of abstract expressionism, his work was crucial to the establishment of the whole tradition of recent color‐field painting and continued to pose challenges right up to his death.”

His historical importance was prominently reaffirmed this year in two major New York shows: “New York Painting and Sculpture: 1940–1970,” at the Metropolitan Museum of Art, and “The New American Painting and Sculpture: The First Generation” at the Museum of Modern Art.

Mr. Rothko's quiet, contemplative canvases, often described as “painting about the sublime,” are in strong contrast to the turbulent imagery of most of his contemporaries. The subdued content of Mr. Rothko's art was described as “empty” by conservative critics; those in favor admire their other‐worldly calm.

‘Baffling and Mysterious’

In 1957 the London critic Robert Melville wrote of Mr. Rothko's work: “It is baffling and mysterious in its simplicity, and I know that many people only find it an insult to their intelligence; but if by some miracle Rothko's attitude to painting were to prevail, we should all be on the way to becoming converts to Zen Buddhism.”

Mr. Rothko shared the be lief of his generation that painting was an act of faith. Rothko was not given to public declamation about his work, but he spoke to friends of “trying to project a tragic vision.” And he was concerned about the way that vision was received.

“A picture lives by companionship, expanding and quickening in the eyes of the sensitive observer,” he wrote. “It dies by the same token. It is therefore a risky act to send it out into the world. How often it must be permanently impaired by the eyes of the unfeeling and the cruelty of the impotent who would extend their affliction universally.”

Described by friends as an essentially melancholy man, Mr Rothko was also a brilliant and witty talker.

“His temperament was always Russian and melancholy, even when things were going his way,” said Betty Parsons, a dealer and an old friend and supporter. “But he could make black white, and white black when he spoke. His wit was not at the expense of people, but at the expense of life.”

Mr. Rothko's chief avocational interests were music and friends. “He loved Mozart,” the poet Stanley Kunitz, a close friend, recalled. “And he was a great, loyal, wonderfully affectionate friend.”

‘He Felt Rejected’

Mr. Kunitz added that the artist's unproductivity over the last six months had been “part of his depression.” “His friends were all aware of it,” he noted. “And partly it had to do with the art world. He felt that the scene was being occupied by people who were influenced by him — his followers — and yet he felt rejected at the same time. This really consumed him.”

Mr. Rothko, whose name was Marcus Rothkovich, was born on Sept. 25, 1903, in Dvinsk, Russia. His father, Jacob, a pharmacist, brought his family to the United States in 1913, and settled in Port land, Ore. Young Rothko, preoccupied with political and societal matters, aspired to be a labor leader.

In 1921, he entered Yale, but left the college two years later to “wander around, bum about, starve a bit.” He arrived in New York in 1925, and en rolled in Max Weber's classes at the Art Students League. The stint with Weber was his only formal training, and Mr. Rothko always considered him self a self‐taught painter.

Starting out as a realist, he exhibited in a group show, in 1929 at the Opportunity. Gallery in New York. Later, with many other New York artists hit by the Depression, he worked on the Federal Arts Project in 1936–37.

By the 1940's; his work, which in the previous decade stressed urban themes, began to absorb the surrealist influences of Miro, de Chirico and Max Ernst, artists whom Mr. Rothko greatly admired. In his first important one‐man show at Peggy Guggenheim's Art of This Century gallery, the surrealistic direction of his work was already apparent.

He joined the Betty Parsons Gallery in 1946, and the surrealist iconography soon gave way to completely abstract forms. In 1951 a reviewer for The New York Times wrote of the paintings in his final show at the Betty Parsons Gallery:

“They are given no titles and, in the accepted sense of the word, they represent nothing. They are expressions of pure and elementary color‐form relationships.”

In 1951, Mr. Rothko showed for the first time at the: Museum of Modern Art, in a now famous exhibition called “Abstract Painting and Sculpture in America.” Later he was rep resented in museum shows that traveled abroad, and he gave Europeans their first exposure to his work.

His Work ‘Arrived’

The influential Sidney Janis Gallery began to exhibit his work in 1954, thus signaling not only Mr. Rothko's success but also the “arrival” of the abstract expressionist movement.

In 1958, with Mark Tobey, the painter, and David Smith and Seymour Lipton, the sculptors, Mr. Rothko was chosen to represent the United States at the 29th Venice Biennale.

Mr. Rothko also had an important teaching career. From 1929 to 1952, he taught children at the Center Academy in Brooklyn, and during the sum mere of 1947 and 1949 he taught at the California School of Fine Arts in San Francisco, where he became an important influence on a number of California artists.

He was co‐founder and teacher in 1948 of the influential school on East Eighth. Street called Subjects of the Artists, a discussion center for the New York School painters. With Adolph Gottlieb, Mr. Rothko once stated his artistic credo in a letter that was published in The New York Times on June 13, 1943.

“We favor the simple expression of the, complex thought. We are for the large shape because it has the impact of the unequivocal. We wish to reassert the picture plane. We are for flat forms because they destroy illusion and re veal truth.”

Mr. Rothko, who received an honorary degree from Yale last June, is survived by his widow, the former Mary Alice Beistle, a daughter, Kate, and a son, Christopher.

He also leaves a sister, Sonia Allen, of Portland, and two brothers, Moise Roth of Port land and Albert Roth of Los Angeles.

#Suicide #mark rothko #dailyrothko #abstract expressionism #abstract art #mid-century modern #modern art #rothko #daily rothko #color field painting #important artists #art #art gallery

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airis-paris14 · 4 years ago

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Starlight 6

Summary: Amani is an orphaned heiress who’s spent most of her life raising her younger sister. T’Challa is a widowed King and Father. Neither of them is expecting much from their night at the Lotus. But the coming months have many milestones in store for these young adults. Will becoming a family be one of them?

1 || 2 || 3 || 4 || 5 || 6 || 7

“So where are you going?” Madiyson pestered her friend. It was 4:30 and Amani knew T’Challa would be here in exactly an hour. She quickly picked up the pace. She still had to take down her twist out and style it. “He said he’s just taking me out to dinner and then a surprise after.” Amani stood up from her vanity and walked into the bathroom. Madiyson had kept her word and spent the night. “With a man like that, the surprise could be diamonds sis,” Madiyson exclaimed as she fell back on Amani’s bed. “I’m pretty sure it’s not diamonds,” the heiress laughed. “How do you know?” Madiyson sat up, watching her friend delicately untwist her strands of hair. “I don’t but I hope not. I’d have to give them back.” Amani shrugged. They sat in silence as Amani finished untwisting and fluffing her hair.

“You really like him don’t you,” Madiyson asked. Amani paused her search for her red silk headwrap. She glanced up at her friend, “I really do.”

“I can tell, you’re willing to give back diamonds,” Madiyson teased. “Shut up,” Amani laughed, throwing one of the headwraps at her. Diamonds had always been Amani’s favorite jewel and all of her friends knew it. It wasn’t that she owned a lot of diamonds, but she was very vocal about her love of jewelry. It wasn’t rare for her to get excited and show her friends a video from a jeweler’s Instagram. The only two diamonds she owned had been gifted by her parents. Her first diamond was a necklace gifted to her when she turned 16. The second was a pair of diamond drop earrings given to her on her eighteenth birthday. Her parents had continued the tradition for Amare as well, but it would be up to Amani to purchase the diamond for her 18th birthday that was coming soon. She made a mental note to start looking for diamond earrings.

“I just don’t want him to think I’m with him for what he can give me. We aren’t in an exclusive relationship, and most of the things he can give me, I could give myself. Gifts are for girlfriends and wives, and I’m not either.” Amani pointed. Finally locating her silk head wrap she began to tie up her curls into a red wrapped pineapple updo. “I understand,” Madiyson agreed walking over into Amani’s closet. “What are you wearing to dinner?” Madiyson called searching through hangers. “It’s in here with me,” Amani replied, laughing as she heard the hangers continuing to move. “Okay, I’ll see it when you get dressed… Girl! I should raid your closet more often!” Madiyson yelled.”

Amani shook her head and started to pull on her clothes. She grabbed her red bodysuit followed by a pair of navy blue and green silk pants edged with red trim. She finished the look with a dark green short coat and red heels. She grabbed her diamond earrings off of the bathroom counter and checked to make sure she was still wearing the necklace her parents had given her. She hadn’t taken it off since the day they passed. With earrings and necklace in place, Amani covered her lips in lipgloss and smiled at her outfit. She looked good, and she knew it. The black woman left her bathroom and walked out into the bedroom. She grabbed her matching clutch and checked her phone. 5:25 on the dot. “Girl can I borrow this dress some-” Madiyson stopped talking as she spotted her friend. “Okay, sis!” Madiyson cheered. “You look good.”

“Thank you,” Amani smiled, “And of course. It would look great on you.” Amani nodded towards the short beaded white dress in her friend’s hand. “Thank you,” Madiyson cheesed. “He should be here soon. You gonna drive home or you gotta work soon?” Amani asked as she and Madiyson headed towards the living room. “I’m going home. Marquis asked if I wanted to get drinks at 8.”

“Ooh, look at you,” Amani teased. “It’s just drinks between friends,” Madiyson blushed. “Sure,” Amani grinned, “It’s just drinks for now. Next week it’ll be a date, and you know I’m right.” Madiyson didn’t respond and Amani knew that she was right. The doorbell drew both of their attention. “He’s punctual,” Madiyson commented. Amani opened the front door and smiled at the sight of T’Challa. “Hi,” she breathed. “Hey,” he breathed back, his eyes drinking in the sight of the woman before him. “Come in,” Amani gestured. “Thank you,” T’Challa smiled. “T’Challa this is Madiyson. Madiyson, this is T’Challa.”

“Nice to meet you,” T’Challa shook Madiyson’s hand. “The pleasure is all mine,” Madiyson insisted, “I’ve heard so much about you-”

“Okay, we should probably get going. I’m sure T’Challa had reservations,” Amani interrupted her friend. Madiyson could never resist a chance to embarrass her friend. “Bye Madiyson,” Amani called as she and T’Challa headed out of the front door. “Have fun! I’ll lock up! Don’t bring home no babies.” Madiyson yelled front the front stoop and Amani mentally groaned.

“She seems nice,” T’Challa commented as he opened the car door for Amani. “She’s really sweet when she’s not trying to embarrass me,” Amani sighed as he closed her door. T’Challa laughed as he settled in the car beside her. “The king drives himself?” Amani raised an eyebrow. “I enjoy driving,” T’Challa laughed, “besides, this is the safest car in the world. I wanted to drive you myself without someone listening in on our conversations tonight.”

“And what’s on the conversation table tonight that so special?”

“You’ll just have to stick around and find out won’t you,” T’Challa teased. He smoothly backed out of her drive and pulled off into the city. “How’d you end up in Atlanta?” the king broke the silence. “I went to college in the AUC, Atlanta University Center, I went to Spelman.”

“What did you major in?” the king inquired. “I was an independent Major. Did a mixture of Documentary Filmmaking, History, writing, and hospitality.” T’Challa nodded, “Did you enjoy your time?”

“I adored it. I’m still friends with a lot of people I went to school with. Madiyson, went to Clark Atlanta. I met her at homecoming one year. It gave me a sense of self and confidence. None of my professors made me feel crazy for wanting to study all of my interests.” Amani reminisced. “Does your sister go to school there?” T’Challa slowed to a stop at a red light. “Nope. They didn’t have her major, so she ended up at MIT. That’s where she wanted to be, so I’m happy for her. She has to make her own decisions.”

“It’s good that you’re supportive.” T’Challa smiled, easing onto the gas as the light turned to green. “What about you? Did you go to college?” Amani asked.

“Yes. I actually went to school in the states.” T’Challa’s eyes twinkled. “Really, you probably went to Yale right?” Amani joked. “Not even close,” T’Challa laughed. “Well, where’d you go to school?”

“I went to Howard University.”

“You’re a lie. There’s absolutely no way.” Amani gasped. “Is it so hard to believe that I would fit in?” T’Challa frowned.

“No! No, I just meant that it seems impossible that you could go to school in the states and no one would know who you were. It seems like the media would have been all over that.” Amani clarified. “Oh. Well, it was not that difficult. Your country did not have much interest in Wakanda until my father passed. I’m the first king to open Wakanda up to the world. I didn’t really tell people who I was, and people didn’t really ask. They just knew I was a foreign exchange student,” the king shrugged. “If that ever gets loose people are gonna lose their ever-loving minds,” Amani laughed. “I’m genuinely surprised it hasn’t already. I’m not exactly hiding it,” the king chuckled.

“What was your major?”

“Physics and Engineering.”

“No politics or international studies?”

“It was a minor,” the king shrugged, “My father taught me everything I needed to know about running our country. I wanted to study something that I was interested in before I spent a life ruling a country,” T’Challa explained. Amani frowned, “You don’t like being a king?”

“It’s not really as simple as enjoying it. It’s a responsibility that I gladly accept. I enjoy working with my people. I enjoy traveling, I could do without all of the politics but it comes with the job description. The responsibility has been passed down through my family since the beginning of our country’s existence. I couldn’t really see myself doing anything else.”

“I can’t fully understand, but as long as you’re happy, I’m happy for you,” Amani smiled. “Thank you,” the king grinned. They fell into comfortable silence once more. T’Challa pulled into a valet station and parked the car. He got out and rushed around to help Amani out of the car. “Thank you,” the waitress smiled. The king handed his keys to the valet and walked with Amani into the restaurant. “I hope you like Thai food,” he placed his hand on her lower back as they approached the maître d'. “I love it,” Amani told him. They checked in and the host led them back to their table. They looked over the menu, ordered, and simply enjoyed each other’s company. “If you could go to any city in the world right at this moment, where would you want to go?” T’Challa suddenly sat up. He leaned forward looking Amani directly in the eyes. Amani sat back, releasing her straw back into her drink, “Any city I want?”

“Any city on any continent,” the king promised, his smile growing by the second. “Milan, Italy,” Amani responded, “for fashion week.”

“Fashion week is soon yes?” T’Challa asked, sitting back in his chair. “It sure is, My sister’s birthday is usually the week after. That’s how I remember when fashion week starts,” Amani laughed. “How old will she be?” “She’ll be 18 this year,” Amani sighed. “That isn’t a good thing?” T’Challa frowned. “It is, but it’s just a reminder she’s gonna leave me for good soon,” Amani frowned, “And 18 is a big birthday in our family.”

“How so?” the king inquired. “Well, 18 is the age of majority in the US. So in acknowledgment of us becoming an adult, my parents gave their last gift. When we turned 16, my parents gave my sister and me a diamond necklace. When I turned 18, they gave me a pair of diamond earrings. Amare had been excited about receiving her earrings since she turned 17. They had bought her necklace before they died, so I was able to give it to her, but I’ve gotta keep the tradition alive on this one.”

“That’s really sweet,” The king offered a small smile, “I’m sure she’ll love whatever you buy for her.

“I hope so.”

The conversation faded again as the couple enjoyed their food. The occasional comment on the food was the only conversation. “Amani,” T’Challa started once he finished his food, “I have really enjoyed spending time with you.” Amani blushed. The king pushed his plate back before continuing, “I know that there is a lot to overcome between us. The distance being the biggest problem, my job coming in a close second,” Amani and T’Challa chuckled, “But I would really like to make us work. As a couple. Officially,” T’Challa paused watching for Amani’s reaction. She took a deep breath as her smile grew across her face, “Me too,” the young woman nodded in response. T’Challa reached across the table and took her hand in his, “Amani Okeke, will you be my girlfriend?”

“It would be my honor, your majesty,” Amani laughed at T’Challa’s groan. “It’s just T’Challa to you, entle.” The king pressed a kiss to the back of her hand. “What does that mean?” Amani soaked in the feeling of his hand against hers.

“It means beautiful in Xhosa, my native language.”

“I like it,” Amani giggled, looking up into his eyes. “I’m glad,” he stared back at her.

The waiter came back shortly and took away the new couple’s empty plates. T’Challa paid for dinner and happily escorted his girlfriend out into his waiting car. “I hope you enjoyed the food.” The king opened the door for Amani as she climbed in. “It was wonderful, thank you,” the young woman smiled as the king closed her door. “I am glad you enjoyed the meal.”

T’Challa pulled away from the curb and started the opposite direction from Amani’s house. “Where are you taking me?” Amani smiled, her eyes glued to the king as he ventured to the opposite side of the city. “It is a surprise.” He smirked as he cruised through a green light.

“Oh really?” Amani turned to face the window. “Can I have a hint?”

“No, no hints. Just accept the surprise.”

Amani frowned out the window, as T’Challa laughed. “I can see you pouting in the window.”

“I’m not pouting,” a smile crept back onto Amani’s face. “I can see it in the glass from all the way over here Amani-”T’Challa started. “I just want to know where we are going. I don’t like surprises,” Amani’s voice trailed off into a mumble. “You do not like surprises?” T’Challa glanced over at her. “No,” she fought back another smile. “So you would like for me to turn around and take you home? It is really a shame since we are so close to the surp-”

“No, don’t turn around,” Amani cried out stopping his hand from pulling over. The king laughed. “I won’t,”T’challa still pulled over into a parking spot off the curb. “We are already here.” The king smiled as he stopped the car. He got out and helped Amani out from her side. He squeezed her hand gently and didn’t let go. They walked up the street to a glass-front building. “An art gallery,” Amani smiled as she noticed people inside mulling around holding flutes of champagne. “Yes, I hope this is alright, I assumed that you like art from the work hanging in your house-”

“I do! I love art,” Amani reassured as the couple paused outside of the front door, “I just wasn’t expecting this, but I love it.”

“What were you expecting?”

“I don’t know, dancing or a show, I don’t really know what I was expecting. I’m glad this is the surprise though, I truly am surprised, and happy.”

T’Challa nodded and escorted her in. Their hands swang together softly as they moved into the room. “I do not know much about the exposition, besides the fact that it is a collection of new African American artists. This gallery is my favorite in the city, they always do an amazing job.”

“They must have an amazing curator,” Amani affirmed as she gazed at some of the works in front of her. “One of the best. I buy a lot of pieces from this galley. They always seem to have something that I want.”

“Maybe I’ll find something new for myself or Amare,” Amani smiled at her date. The two meandered around the room, picking up some champagne as they perused. As they were talking and walking Amani’s attention was drawn to a painting that hung behind T’Challa’s head. Noticing her look the king turned over his shoulder to find what had caught her gaze and he smiled. “Do you like it?” He gripped her hand in his and walked her to the painting.

“I do. There’s just something about her gaze, and her hair. It’s like it’s people, then a city, but then I find myself just staring at her curls once more. There’s innocence, there’s pain, and there’s pride. It’s wrapped up in one, and it’s breathtaking.”

“You should buy it?”

“Where am I gonna put a bright red painting in my house T’Challa?”

“I don’t know, paint your bedroom red? Paint the Guest room red?”

“You really want me to buy this painting.” Amani turned to him. “No. Not if you do not want it, but you’ve bought two pictures for Amare for her birthday, and you have yet to buy one for yourself.”

“I’ve already started my collection, and I’ve got to save up for her birthday present. So maybe next time,” Amani shrugged but looked up at the painting. “I understand.” T’challa glanced over at his girlfriend before taking another sip of his champagne. “So I am going to buy it for you,” The king announced.

“T’Challa you don’t have to do that. You do not have to buy me gifts.”

“I know that I do not have to do anything, but I want to do this for you. Do you like this painting,” the king turned to face his girlfriend and took one of her hands in his free one. “I do,” she nodded back. “Then I am going to buy it for you, because your are my girlfriend and I want to treat you. You do so much for others, so let me do something for you.”

Amani nodded and smiled. The couple finished pursuing and purchasing their items. A few hours later they found themselves back on Amani’s front steps. “I had an amazing time tonight.”

Amani pushed the key in her lock as she smiled. The lock clicked opened and she invited T’Challa in. “I did too,” the young homeowner smiled, shrugging off her coat onto the couch before walking back over to T’Challa. He smiled at her, “I hope I an not to forward in asking this, but I am going to be taking Ada on a short vacation and I would like for you to come with us. We aren’t going to Milan unfortunately, but we are going to Paris. I am sure she would enjoy your presence as well.”

“Are you sure, I wouldn’t want to encroach on you all’s time together. I know it is limited since she is away at school and with Nanny’s-”

“Well,” T’Challa cleared his throat, “I have been doing some thinking and that is all going to be changing soon. The vacation is for the end of her school year, and next year, I have decided that she will be continuing her formal education with me in the palace. And her nanny will be retiring as well. I took your advice and realized that I wanted to spend quality time with my daughter and get to know her. Not be a stranger that she comes home to and calls her father. And she is only five, she probably will not even really remember this vacation and she loves having you around and we coul-” Amani cut off his rambling by pressing her lips to his. She melted into the kiss as his senses took over and he kissed her back. She pulled away slowly blinking her eyes, “If I can get off of work, I would love to tag along with you all,” She bit her lip and grinned.

“Great,” he nodded slowly, gazing back at her, “I’ll send you the details in the morning my love.”

“Sounds like a plan.”

T’Challa rested his forehead on hers. “Goodnight Amani,” The king smiled. “Goodnight,” Amani whispered. The father placed one last kiss on her lips before she let him out. Amani locked the door behind herself and grinned all the way up the stairs to take a shower.

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thepapercutpost · 3 years ago

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Women’s Gymnastics Reminds Me of Marvel's Black Widow. That's Not Okay.

July 2021 saw both the long-awaited release of Black Widow and the return of these young women to the Olympics.

“Scarlett Johansson by Gage Skidmore 2 (cropped)“ by Gage Skidmore is licensed under CC BY-SA 3.0 (left). "Nadia Comaneci #1" by eye2eye is licensed under CC BY-ND 2.0 (right).

Last summer, the worldwide COVID-19 pandemic seemed to put everything on hold. With movie theaters shut down, the Marvel Cinematic Universe, in the midst of its longest pause in between theatrical releases, experienced the first of three eventual delays to the release of the film Black Widow, which was originally scheduled for May 2020.

Delays also found one of the biggest sporting events in the world. The 2020 Tokyo Olympic Games had to be postponed. Thousands of athletes who had spent their lives preparing to represent their countries at the Games were forced to put their plans on hold. Among them were several Team USA hopefuls for women’s gymnastics.

July 2021 saw both the long-awaited release of Black Widow and the return of these young women to the Olympics.

In 2016, the Larry Nassar scandal, in which Nassar, a doctor affiliated with USA Gymnastics, was accused and convicted of sexually abusing over 250 women and girls, pulled the curtain back on the realities of elite gymnastics. Soon after Nassar’s abuse came to light, it was revealed that USAG had covered up complaints of sex abuse from hundreds of gymnasts against coaches, gym owners, and staff.

When asked how they thought this behavior was allowed to occur for so long, gymnasts cited the culture of fear and toxicity that permeated the gymnastics community.

From one angle, Nassar was a friendly and trustworthy face in a sea of strict training and harsh discipline. When Béla and Márta Károlyi, husband and wife coaches who defected to the U.S. from Romania in 1981, took over USA Gymnastics, they brought with them a controlling and abusive method of training. In Athlete A, a Netflix documentary centered on the sex abuse scandal, Olympic gymnast Jamie Dantzscher recalls Nassar being “the only nice adult” and that he gave the girls food and candy in secret. Naturally, the gymnasts trusted him and his methods.

And from another angle, the athletes had been conditioned from a young age, in most cases, to doubt their own instincts about their bodies.

You think you’re hungry, you think your ankle hurts, you think that you’re working really hard. But you’re told and you’re screamed at that you’re lazy and you’re fat and there’s nothing wrong with your ankle. So, when a man puts his un-gloved hand into your vagina without asking you, I can only imagine that what you feel is, ‘He’s this great doctor, and I’m lucky to be here, so I’m not going to say anything.’

—Jennifer Sey, USA Gymnastics National Champion, 1986 (Athlete A)

Letting alone the ramifications of coming forward as a gymnast against a well-respected member of the community such as Nassar, many of his victims didn’t speak out because, as a result of being raised in an already abusive system, they were unable to identify his actions as abuse.

In a similar sense, Black Widow depicts a group of women and girls who have undergone rigorous training and have been brainwashed into carrying out the KGB’s missions. The fictional Red Room provides a mirror to the very real world of competitive Gymnastics.

Even before the recent film, Marvel fans were familiar with the Red Room as the program that trained Natasha Romanoff (Scarlett Johansson) and other Russian girls as Black Widows, an elite class of spies and assassins. In Avengers: Age of Ultron, we see a flashback of Natasha’s time as a trainee. One memory is of an intensive ballet lesson, and the scene shows her looking on with her instructor at the studio of young women.

“You’ll break them,” Natasha says to the teacher.

“Only the breakable ones,” is her response.

Other allusions are made to the cruelty of the Widow program. When telling Natasha about the reincarnation of the Red Room, Yelena, her sister (Florence Pugh), says that only about one in twenty girls who Dreykov takes survives the initial stages. To Alexei, the girls’ father (David Harbour), Yelena elaborates on the “involuntary hysterectomy” given to them by the Red Room, a process which removes a woman’s reproductive organs and, as Natasha had mentioned in Age of Ultron, makes her unable to have children.

The brutal training process and forced assault upon women’s bodies, which they were made to believe was normal, should sound familiar.

Johansson said in an interview that the story for Black Widow began to take shape in 2017, when the #MeToo movement was rising to prominence, and is essentially a story about women supporting other women. She wasn’t shy to say the film was inspired by that moment in history, a movement that provided support to and was benefited by the USA Gymnastics scandal.

For Red Room graduates, training is followed by executing missions. The character of Dreykov (Ray Winstone) provides a face to the dark and secretive organization who gives the Widows orders. Although they are highly trained and skilled, they still face danger during these operations.

The same is true of gymnasts at their competitions. Gymnastics is one of the most dangerous sports, especially for girls and young women. Gymnasts experience both acute injuries, which occur after a single landing or other impact, and chronic injuries, which develops over time, usually during the course of frequent practice. They are often expected to compete with their injuries. In the 1996 Olympics, Kerri Strug, part of the American team known as the Magnificent Seven, won the gold for her team in the all-around by landing the final vault on one foot, as she had severely injured the other during her first attempt. The Peacock docuseries Golden: The Journey of USA's Elite Gymnasts reveals that gymnasts continue to compete with injuries today. Team USA’s 2021 all-around women’s gold medalist Suni Lee began the competition season with a broken foot while MyKayla Skinner, silver medalist on vault, began the season still fighting lingering COVID symptoms months after contracting the virus.

Injuries are one of several reasons elite gymnasts today are younger than they were 50 years ago. When Nadia Comaneci from Romania became the first gymnast to earn a perfect score at the Olympics in 1976, she was fourteen years old. From that point on, the standard for Olympic gymnasts became younger and younger. One advantage to training a younger gymnast is that the body is more resilient, and the part of the brain that recognizes the danger in the more difficult moves is not yet fully developed, which results in less of the hesitation that causes some injuries.

But with more malleability comes more potential for abuse. The younger a girl begins to learn gymnastics, the more susceptible she is to mental health issues such as anxiety and eating disorders, both common in athletes across the board, as we are learning during these 2021 Games. There is more opportunity to shape her thinking, and if she is told by coaches that she is not injured or should perform anyway when she is in severe pain, she will be less inclined to get help when something is severely wrong. Dominique Moceanu, Kerri Strug’s teammate in the 1996 Olympics, told BBC in a recent interview regarding being forced to compete with injuries, “I didn't even care about my well-being, to be honest, because no one cared about it ever.”

In Black Widow, Yelena is taken to the Red Room at only six years old, and it is later revealed that Natasha was identified and taken from her birth parents by a KGB program that measured the genetic potential in infants. Like the Károlyis, the Red Room discovered that getting to the girls at an early age made it easier to exploit and mistreat them without raising questions.

In 2016, when the film is set, Natasha and Yelena kill Dreykov and bring an end to the Black Widow program. Although the real-world events of 2016 in USA Gymnastics, and even the conviction of Larry Nassar, didn’t end with the toxic culture of U.S. gymnastics falling from the sky in flames, things are getting better. The 2021 Olympics are coming to a conclusion in Tokyo today, but if we are to learn and grow from recent horrifying history, we must not forget what these Games and decades of competitive gymnastics have taught us.

Among all the abominable similarities elite gymnastics and the Red Room share, there is one beautiful thing they have in common: sisterhood.

Natasha and Yelena set out to protect the young women and girls who have been captured and free them of Dreykov's mind control, having experienced that trauma themselves. In doing so, they revisit and repair their own relationship as sisters.

By all accounts, gymnasts feel a similar kinship with their peers. They bond over their shared experience: the stress of competing, the aches of injuries, long days and nights spent practicing their sport. They support each other, cheering each other on and celebrating each other's accomplishments. The women who came forward about their abuse did so not for themselves but for the sake of other gymnasts. The vulnerablities women face in this world mean that we are also tasked with the responsibility and the privilege of protecting each other.

#opinion #sports #entertainment

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fictionadventurer · 5 years ago

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Persuasion is definitely Austen’s most romantic book, but my favorite thing is that it’s a romance about romance--what makes a good couple, what makes a good marriage, what are obstacles that confront married couples. This book has more romances and more married couples than any other Austen book, and all of them serve as examples or warnings to Anne and Wentworth. They show what might have happened had they chose differently or what they could still become, and these help Austen explore the nuances of courtship and marriage much more thoroughly than she could have with only one central romance.

Let’s look at the examples.

Anne’s mother married handsome Sir Walter for love and lived to regret it, because he turned out to be a self-centered spendthrift whose irresponsible ways drove the family to poverty. The text tells us that Wentworth is handsome, extremely confident, and has wasted his money before; he’s not as silly as Sir Walter, but if his character hadn’t altered, or if Anne had married him after he first proposed, she could well have wound up in a similar situation to her mother.

Charles Musgrove proposed to Anne, and when she rejected him, he married Mary instead, because she seemed like the best option available. Rather than elevating each other’s characters, they amplify each others’ faults--Mary fakes illness because she wants attention, and Charles doesn’t want to deal with it, so he neglects his family and spends most of his time hunting. Either Anne or Wentworth could have done something similar--they could have settled for a “second best” option who would fail to help them become their best self--and this shows what a tragedy it could have been.

Benwick loved Fanny Harville, but postponed the wedding until he made more money and became captain, and she died before they could wed. A similar thing could have happened to Anne and Wentworth--romance with a naval man is full of uncertainty--this relationship muses on the dangerous balance between love and practicality. Even the sensible choice can backfire; even the strongest of love can be torn apart by the random tragedies of life.

Henrietta and Charles Hayter love each other, but the relationship is strained by misunderstandings. Only after they get over their pride and actually talk to each other can they clear everything up and get married. Which is exactly what Anne and Wentworth have to do at the end of the book.

Captain Harville has a wife and children who stayed in port while he traveled at sea. He has to worry about supporting them, and it was painful to leave them behind, but he also has the support of their love. He winds up losing his leg and having to leave the navy, but they’re together as they weather the difficulties. This shows both positive and negative possibilities for Anne and Wentworth’s future together--they can have a good life, but there’s also the potential for troubles. It can be worth the risk--but you have to be aware of the risks.

Mrs. Smith marries a rich man she loves and lives a life of prosperous frivolity, only to be left a poor widow after his death. Her story serves as a warning--money and even love aren’t as important as strength of character and a good attitude, because when things go wrong (and widowhood is a definite possibility for the wife of a sea captain), that’s what’s going to get you through the difficulties.

Mr. Elliot is a poor man, marries his wife for money, and tramples over everyone in his quest for more money. He’s the anti-Wentworth; Wentworth has a similar flawed desperation for money, but he rose through his own efforts and kept a good character. When William Elliot pursues Anne, he seems to offer the perfect partnership--he’s charming, appreciates her good qualities, and has money and a title. But that perfect exterior hides the rotten soul of a grasping, greedy, ruthless man. Wentworth has his flaws, but they’re obvious flaws atop a noble core, rather than the dangerous, pleasant duplicity of William Elliot. Mr. Elliot serves as a warning to be wary of perfect exteriors, and to value a good character over a charming manner or a high social status.

Admiral and Mrs. Croft are rightfully held up as the ideal of what Anne and Wentworth could become. Two people with compatible personalities and strong moral characters who are deeply in love with each other and balance out each others’ faults. Rather than being left behind, Mrs. Croft gets to be fully part of her husband’s life at sea, staying by his side through his travels. Perfectly matched partners who find prosperity and happiness. Essentially the best of all possible outcomes for Anne and Wentworth.

The one thing Admiral and Mrs. Croft don’t have is children. But that’s the one thing we know about Mr. and Mrs. Musgrove’s marriage--it resulted in lots of happy children. They show that one of the important functions of a good marriage is being good parents. They like having their children around, they let them pursue their interests, and they’re generous in letting the young Harville children stay with them. And most importantly, they support their daughters marrying good men that they love, even if they’re not the richest or highest-ranking of men; they value their children’s happiness over their own social standing. That’s the support that Anne lacked in her relationship with Wentworth; both her father and Lady Russell let their appreciation for rank and wealth blind them to Wentworth’s good qualities, but fortunately, the Musgroves provide Anne a better example of how to behave toward her own children.

And then there’s Captain Benwick and Louisa Musgrove, the relationship that made no sense to all outsiders. Yet they’re essentially a gender-flipped version of Anne and Wentworth. Benwick is quiet, cautious and sensitive--naturally he’s drawn to Anne’s similar personality. Wentworth is outgoing, confident, active--much like Louisa. But Louisa’s reckless confidence leads to tragedy, and brings the correct pairs of opposites together. Wentworth realizes he doesn’t need a woman like himself, because they just magnify each others’ flaws; he needs Anne, whose strengths complement his own. Louisa’s injury slows her down and makes her appreciate the quiet strengths of Captain Benwick; her personality’s much more subdued after her accident, but her underlying confident nature, if it ever returns, would be a good balance to Benwick’s sensitivity and caution.

This book examines marriage from nearly every possible angle. There’s no one perfect path, no one perfect choice, because there are risks and rewards to everything. Anne and Wentworth’s story could have gone wrong in so many ways; it could still go wrong. But the examples of the marriages around them show them what qualities to value, what pitfalls to avoid. And that thorough examination of marriage--through all the book’s many relationships--are what make the romance in Persuasion a true masterpiece.

#persuasion #jane austen #jar:persuasion #i've had this simmering since february and this is so incredibly inferior to what i'm trying to say #and i should really let this sit for a while #but i've been intending to write it for so long that i hate to leave it to sit in my drafts #so let's throw it out there #also this is really long and i apologize

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mediaevalmusereads · 4 years ago

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Sweet Disorder. By Rose Lerner. Self-Published, 2014.

Rating: 4/5 stars

Genre: historical romance

Part of a Series? Yes, Lively St. Lemeston #1

Summary: Prickly newspaperman’s widow Phoebe Sparks has vowed never to marry again. Unfortunately, the election in Lively St. Lemeston is hotly contested, and the little town’s charter gives Phoebe the right to make her husband a voter—if she had one.

The Honorable Nicholas Dymond has vowed never to get involved in his family's aristocratic politicking. But now his army career is over for good, his leg and his self-confidence both shattered in the war. Helping his little brother win an election could be just what the doctor ordered. So Nick decamps to the country, under strict orders to marry Phoebe off to somebody before the polls open. He’s intrigued by the lovely widow from the moment she shuts the door in his face. Phoebe is determined not to be persuaded by the handsome earl’s son, no matter how charming he is. But when disaster strikes her young sister, she is forced to consider selling her vote—and her hand—to the highest bidder. As election intrigue grows, Phoebe and Nick are brought face to face with their own deepest desires and forced to decide which vows are worth keeping, and which must be broken...

***Full review under the cut.***

Content Warnings: sexual content, fat shaming, teen pregnancy, anti-Semitism, allusions to war and miscarriage

Overview: I came across this book while searching for recommendations. I had just finished Netflix’s Bridgerton, and I wasn’t keen on reading the books on account of the reported rape scene. Luckily, romance tumblr had some alternatives, so I gave this book a chance. Overall, I found Sweet Disorder to be a pleasant surprise. Not only do we have a fat heroine who is honest about her body issues as well as about what she wants from her lover, but we also have a political drama with a lot of carefully plotted threads that I was eager to read. The main thing holding me back from giving this a full 5 stars was pacing; I feel like, for a romance novel, the pace should have been a little faster in the middle and not as fast at the end. But other than that, I think I can safely say that this is one of the better romances I’ve read so far this year, and I’m comfortable calling it a feminist one.

Writing: Lerner’s prose is well-balanced and straight-forward, alternating between showing and telling at appropriate moments while also being easy to digest. I don’t think there’s much that sets it apart from what one might expect out of a romance novel, but that’s not a knock against Lerner. I think she writes for her audience, and the prose does its job. I had no problems following the plot and I never struggled to imagine what was going on.

One thing I do care to single out, however, is Lerner’s intertextuality. I feel like I’ve read a lot of romances where I’m told that the heroine (or hero) is bookish, but all that means is that she (or he) is disorganized and surrounded by papers and ink. Lerner, by contrast, has her characters quote poetry to one another - and not just one kind! There are quotes from Byron, Wordsworth, Blake, and others, in addition to allusions to Shakespeare and moral tales. The written word seeped into the way Nick and Phoebe thought and acted, and I truly felt that Lerner’s characters had a love of literature.

Plot: Sweet Disorder primarily follows our heroine, Phoebe, as she tries to decide whether she wants to marry a Tory or a Whig. That sounds fairly simplistic, but the politics are way more complicated. As a widow, Phoebe has the power to make her new husband a freeman, so her decision not only enfranchises a voter, but potentially decides which party gets the seat.

I honestly found the politics to be quite interesting, and the drama surrounding Phoebe’s decision felt real and personal. On the one hand, Phoebe has supported the Whigs for years, but the man the Whigs want her to marry isn’t quite her type. They share the same political views, and he’s kind and hard-working, but he and Phoebe don’t share any interests. On the other hand, she gets along with the Tory on a personal level, but he makes some comments that show Phoebe she could never get along with him politically.

My only qualms with this plot is that I don’t think Lerner did enough to condemn the anti-Semitism and elitist attitude of the Tories (or at least make it a significant point of tension in Phoebe’s decision-making process). Sometimes, I felt that the parties were presented as more or less interchangeable, and while some characters call out the Tories for their political bullshit (such as when Nick tells off a candidate for his party not sending adequate supplies to the troops in favor of lining their own pockets), I don’t think the eventual “both sides are bad in some ways, both sides are good in others” message was a good one. To solve the problem, I think Phoebe should have wrestled more with the idea that marrying a Tory would raise her out of poverty. That way, there could have been a moral conflict that Phoebe has to overcome, and other characters (such as Mr. Gilchrist and Mr. Jessop) could have had some growth by seeing how the Tories made them prejudiced against poor people.

In terms of how the plot was delivered, I think the pace was a little laggy in the middle and a little too rushed at the end. While I appreciated Lerner taking her time to show us how Phoebe interacts with characters (so we get to know them as she does), I also think the middle could have been sped up so there was more room to explore complicated emotions towards the end. After all the political and personal drama goes down, Phoebe and Nick have to redefine their relationship to each other, and Nick, in particular, has to consider what his relationship is to his family. While I think the complexity builds just fine throughout the novel, and things come to a head in a most spectacular fashion, I also think problems get solved way too quickly. I would have liked to see Phoebe and Nick explore their feelings in more depth while actually working out their problems in a way that mirrors the pace of the rest of the novel.

Characters: Phoebe, our heroine, is a widow who writes children’s tales to get by. She’s poor, but not destitute, and most of her personal arc involves reconciling what she wants for herself and what she’s willing to do for others. I really liked that she was open and honest about what she wanted, but saw that sometimes, her wants should take a backseat to others’. This isn’t to say Lerner uses Phoebe to show how women should be uniformly selfless; rather, Phoebe’s journey shows that sometimes, she should listen to the people around her (like her sister) and sometimes, she should put her foot down (as with her mother). I also liked that Phoebe was described as curvy or fat and part of her character arc was about learning to suppress her internal voice, which repeated fatphobic things that her mother would say to her growing up. It was honestly refreshing not to read about another stick skinny heroine, and I appreciated that Phoebe’s body image was part of her character, but not her defining feature. Of course, I will defer to others who are more knowledge about fat representation in literature, so if there’s anything I’m not seeing, please listed to others with more knowledge than me.

Nick, our hero, is a war veteran who is cajoled into going to Lively St. Lemeston to help his brother, Tony, win his campaign. Nick is a bit of a recluse on account of his limp, and he isn’t all that interested in politics because his mother made it the center of her life (rather than her family). I really liked that Nick’s arc was about prioritizing his own wants without making him appear selfish. Nick’s major flaw is that that he too deferential to others; he acts in ways that will make social interactions more smooth rather than out of personal conviction. In meeting Phoebe, he is challenged to be honest with her, as she can tell when he’s being sincere and when he’s putting on a mask. I also appreciated that Lerner didn’t make his appear inconsequential. The chronic pain made moving difficult at times, and Nick didn’t exhibit any superhuman strength that allowed him to overcome his disability. It made his condition feel real and present, so to speak, rather than a “sexy scar” or some similar trope. But like with Phoebe’s character, I’ll defer to reviewers who know more about disability representation.

Side characters were surprisingly well-rounded and interesting. Mr. Moon, the Whig that Phoebe considers marrying, is a confectioner who is always eager to please. I liked that he was presented as poor but not stupid, as well as being kind despite not sharing any interests with Phoebe. I think too often incompatibility is represented by serious flaws in a person (such as fighting or sexism) rather than simply not enjoying the same things. Mr. Fairclough, the Tory that Phoebe considers marrying, is also complex in that he is kind and easy-going so long as the subject as politics doesn’t come up. I liked the idea of Fairclough, though I do wish Lerner had given him more flack for his anti-Semitism.

Helen, Phoebe’s teenaged sister, was a good counterpart to Phoebe in that she was conventionally pretty and interested in fashion, whereas Phoebe was not. I loved that they faced challenges together with mixed success: Helen trusts Phoebe enough to seek her help when she finds out she’s pregnant, but not enough to tell her who the father is. I really liked that the two butt heads once in a while, but not in a way that threatened their relationship - just enough to make it feel real and dynamic. Making Phoebe’s children’s tale mirror Helen’s plight was also a good choice, as it allowed for some interiority to shine through.

The mothers in this story were perhaps the biggest surprise. Phoebe’s mother, Mrs. Knight, is extremely strict and isn’t afraid to openly criticize her daughters for their weight, their behavior, etc. Nick’s mother, Lady Tassell, also holds her sons to high standards, but doesn’t openly criticize them as much as she lets her disappointment affect their feelings of self-worth. Lady Tassell prioritizes politics over her family, which makes for a more interesting picture of a “bad mother” and contrasts with Mrs. Knight rather well.

My only complaints about characters are that I wish Mr. Gilchrist (the Tory scout) and Tony (Nick’s brother and Whig candidate) were a little more well-developed and that Jack and Caroline’s arc were a little more purposeful. Mr. Gilchrist is a fine supporting character and wouldn’t need much more development if he had solely been there to pressure Phoebe into marrying Fairclough. But because he gets involved with Helen, I think more should have been done with the politics so it doesn’t appear as if “love transcends political divides.” The same can be said of Jack and Caroline. Jack is Phoebe’s brother-in-law while Caroline is the daughter of a Tory candidate. They have a romance that also feels like “love transcends political divides,” and as I mentioned above, I don’t think portraying both sides as equal or interchangeable was a compelling choice. Of course, I don’t think portraying the Whigs as perfect would have been good either; I rather liked that Tony’s plot was about how very not-perfect he was, but I wanted characters to wrestle a bit more with that complexity.

Romance: Despite loving Phoebe and Nick separately as characters, their romance felt more like the formation of a close friendship to me. I liked that the two shared emotional intimacy and vulnerability to each other, and that their personal struggles mirrored one another’s so well - I just think that the turn from friendship to romance wasn’t all that convincing. Perhaps it’s because the plot of this book takes place over two (or three?) weeks, and I’m skeptical of characters who declare their love in so short a time. But that’s a personal preference on my part. To fix this problem (at least, for me), I would have liked to see more plot happen after the election, when Phoebe and Nick have to work out their feelings for one another. Extending the timeline would have done much, even though it would have made the book longer.

TL;DR: Sweet Disorder is a pleasant surprise of a romance novel, offering complex characters and a political plot that thrives off of realistic drama. Despite my misgivings about pacing, much of Sweet Disorder is satisfying in so many ways, from fat representation to its intertextuality, and I would recommend it to readers looking for an alternative to Bridgerton.

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give-me-back-my-rhodey · 4 years ago

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Life is a Circus - AUgust Day 25

Title: Life is a Circus

Author: Purple_ducky00

Rating: M

Warnings: Violence, Animal attack, Blood and gore

Pair: Bucky/Clint/Tony

Square Filled: B3: Occupational Hazard @buckybarnesbingo

Link: Read on AO3

Summary: The Avengers as a found family of circus performers

++++++++++++++++

The SHIELD circus is the most well-known circus in the country. People flock far and wide to see the amazing Hawkeye, the best sharpshooter known to man. Iron Man’s pyrotechnics are more spectacular than ever. The Winter Soldier has the big cats trained to a single command. The acrobatics of the Black Widow are unmatched. Thor can create electricity with his hands. The Hulk is a small unassuming man who can lift record weights. The ringmaster, Captain America introduces each show with a loud booming voice. It is quite a show to see.

Clint Barton joined the circus when he was quite young with his brother, Barney. They ran away from an abusive father. They both worked behind the scenes until the owner, Mr. Fury, saw Clint shooting a bow and arrow for fun. He noted that no matter how far or difficult the target, Clint never missed. Fury offered him a place in the show. Barney was supportive, up until he died from the newest sickness that passed through the circus train. His symptoms didn’t show up until too late, and he died quickly.

Tony is the son of a millionaire. His father has disowned him because he had refused to follow the family business of making weapons. Tony is a pacifist and will only blow things up for entertainment value. He has bad dreams that keep him up most nights. Clint likes to be the one who holds him when the terrors get too bad.

The next to arrive are two adopted bothers, Steve Rogers and James “Bucky” Barnes. Once hearing Rogers’ voice and enthusiasm, Mr. Fury makes him ringmaster immediately.

Bucky always had a way with animals. Mr. Fury had acquired some new cubs, and Bucky raised and trained them, never once using a whip. He loves those cats, and they love him. It’s always a wonder to see them interact.

Thor comes next, then Bruce Banner, who is Hulk. Everyone fits in well together, becoming a found family. Clint, Tony, and Bucky grow closer and begin to date each other. Life on the road is tough, and one needs to love those around them.

“Next stop is St. Louis,” Bucky says, resting his head on Clint’s bicep. “I wonder if they’ll let us look around. I always wanted to see the Gateway Arch.”

“It usually depends on how quickly we set up and the weather. Hopefully we can, though.” Tony looks up from his drawing. “I can’t wait until we get to Philadelphia. My best friend in high school lives there. We’ve talked a little recently, and I want to see him.”

Sam Wilson, the human cannonball and Steve’s boyfriend, saunters into their train car. “We’ll be there in twenty minutes. Fury says if we get set up right away, we will have time to explore. First show doesn’t start til three. As long as Barnes’ kitties cooperate.”

“Shaddup Wilson.” Bucky flips him the bird. He and Sam have a love/hate relationship on the outside, but they truthfully enjoy each other’s company.

Sam is right, though. Sasha and Angel have been sick the past couple of days, which makes them cranky. When the big cats are cranky, Bucky is the only one they allow near their sleeping areas. He hopes they will be ok without him for at least an hour.

As Sam takes a seat at their table, Clint produces a deck of cards. Tony puts away his drawing, and the four play a game of Texas hold ’em until they arrive in St. Louis.

Set up goes fairly well, and Bucky, Tony, and Clint make their way to the Gateway Arch. Clint buys them all turkey legs for lunch. Tony buys pins that they stick on their bags. They hope to collect at least on pin from each major city in the US.

All too soon, their fun is over, and they have to prepare for their show. Clint chooses his targets and arrows, Tony finds the perfect area to set off his chemicals, and Bucky gets his girls ready for the show. Sasha is feeling better, and she shows it by pouncing on him playfully. Angel is more reserved, but he can tell she is happy to see him. Gloss runs in circles around him, and Petey practices her stalking routine. Sultan, the old tigress, lies on her bed watching them tiredly. She doesn’t do much, except emit a loud roar on cue. Bucky loves her.

The show is about to start. Steve begins the show by welcoming everyone. He goes on his routine spiel about the wonders to be seen. Clint is part of the first act, and he kisses his men on the way out. Bucky and Tony never get tired of watching his show with Nat; the way they fly through the air, twisting and bounding. Clint shoots arrows at targets behind Natasha, and the crowd gasps as she lithely slips out of the way. Sure enough, Clint’s arrows always hit each target dead center.

Bucky goes on near the end of Clint’s show. The crowd oohs and ahhs at the young cats’ tricks. When prompted, Sultan sits up straight and lets out her mighty roar. Bucky is happy. Everything is going well.

Tony’s act is not until the end. He sends everyone off with a beautiful light show. Bucky is wowed by the show even though he has seen it every night for the past three years. Tony somehow outdoes himself each night.

One week later, the circus is in Toledo. Unfortunately, so is HYDRA circus. They are known for poor working conditions and animal cruelty. Mr. Fury sets up a guard so that SHIELD circus does not get sabotaged.

Someone still somehow sets off firecrackers near the cat car. Confused and agitated, they young cats don’t recognize Bucky when he comes to feed them the next morning. They attack, badly mangling his left arm. He is able to get them to recognize him before they do too much harm, but his arm is broken and barely attached to the shoulder. He will be unable to perform for a few months at least.

The owners of the circus sent Bucky a letter, firing him and sending a large severance check. In the letter, they tell him they are sorry for the unfortunate circumstances, but his job does have the tendency for occupational hazards. After reading, Bucky throws the letter down in frustration. “I raised those cubs for him. I trained them all to be completely obedient. And now that I’m indisposed for a month or so, they’re going to fire me?”

“They what!?!?!” Tony is incensed. He storms over to Fury’s tent, Clint following closely behind, with the letter and demands to know what’s going on.

Fury shakes his head. “I didn’t vote for it. Barnes is the best in the field, but you can’t reason with dumbasses.”

“You call the owners.” Tony smiles sweetly. “And you tell them that if they fire Bucky, I quit.”

“So do I.” Clint puts in. “And you know I bring in most of the crowd. I haven’t missed yet, and you know about the betting pools.” He crosses his arms. “Let us know what they think.”

Bucky cries when Fury tells him that he is ok to stay on. His arm heals as best as it can within the span of a few months. Steve and Tony design tattoos for Bucky to get to hide the scars on his arm.

When the circus finally gets to Philadelphia, Tony introduces his best friend, Rhodey, to them. Rhodey fits in quite well with the others for the few days they stay in Philly. They say goodbye to tour the rest of the country, but once this tour is over, everyone as a whole decides to retire from life on the move.

They buy a large house in the Philadelphia suburbs and live as one happy family. Rhodey moves in once his apartment lease is up. Tony’s parents die a year later in a car accident, leaving their fortune to Tony. He buys a bigger house and becomes their sugar daddy. Everyone lives happily ever after.

~Fin

#winterironhawk #winteriron #ironhawk #winterhawk #background samsteve #circus au #tw: violence #tw; animal attack #tw: blood #tw: gore #au_gust_2020 #i write!#buckybarnesbingo2020

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darklingichor · 4 years ago

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Gone With the Wind by Margaret Mitchell

Buckle in kids, this one has my analytical muscles flexing!

I always said that I absorbed some of this epic through osmosis. GWTW is my mom's favorite book and one of her favorite movies. I remember wandering in and out of the living room at least once a year while she watched it. I would listen with half an ear as I played in the other room. A movie so long as to have an intermission just couldn't keep my attention as a kid. Of course I knew the story, just like I knew the story of a lot of fairy tales that I'd never actually had read to me. I didn't actually sit down and watch the movie in it's entirety until I was in my 20's. I liked it. It was well made, the acting was great and the story for all it's wince worthy moments and the surface polishing of such an ugly period in american history, was compelling.

I've never been able to get through the actual book. The reasons are going to sound a little silly. When I was younger, I thought : Why read it? I know the story. Tara is a plantation pre civil war, Scarlett lives at Tara, she's spoiled, she marries out of spite, gets widowed, Atlanta burns, she and her family become poor after the war, "As God is my witness, I shall never be hungry again" she works hard, almost loses Tara, she marries for money, saves Tara, works hard, is widowed again, marries again, rocky relationship, a child passes, "Frankly my dear, I don't give damn", end credits. In between she pines over a guy she can't have, and manages to be all around an unpleasant person in general. Done and done. I was probably too young to read it then anyway.

When I got older and realized that a book could be complex with horrible things in it. I thought I should read it. But, every copy of the book I seemed to find had tiny tiny print and no paragraph breaks (the later being a a typical writing characteristic in the past). Even with my glasses I have a hard time reading a book in that format. I skip lines, reread lines, I always end up,with a,pounding headache. No matter how good the story it's hard to get into when you can't physically read it. I had the same problem with Little Women. I eventually got through it but it was difficult.

Well, now there's audible. For once, I didn't have a book I was chomping at the bit to listen to and I thought: Why not? I listened to other books I couldn't get into for whatever reason. So, one credit and 48 hours (spread out over the last three weeks) later. I made it through.

Let me say, this novel is rich in language, as in it is well written and has much to analyze. But every time the n-word was said I flinched. Every time a black person was infatlized, or threatened, I felt angry, I was pissed off by the caricatures and happy slave narritive. Everything I have read about the author points to her evolving her views on black people after her novel, which is good. However, it doesn't make the characterization of black people any easier to read. There are racist things in the book, writing about a bunch of well to do people in the antebellum south, I'm not sure how an author could avoid it without Clorox-ing history, which honestly, she did enough of with her mythical view of the way enslaved people were treated and felt. It was a narrative I often heard in school, in the PNW, in the 90's.

The story went that depending on where someone fit into the hierarchy of slaves, some were well treated and loved. Because of this, when emancipation came, some slaves were afraid to be, or didn't want to be free. This of course served the purpose of making an awful period in US history seem softer than it was. "Sure it was bad, but it wasn't that bad."

As I studied more, this viewpoint was replaced with a "Nope, this was just bad, as in monumentally criminally bad."

I think Mitchell, when she wrote the book, thought she was being accurate, but considering she learned her history from veterens of The Confederacy, it is not surprising that she was wrong.

Because of the one dimensional way that black people were written, it's hard for me to really dig into the symbolism of their characters. I'm only marganially good at this, as you will soon see.

I will say this: I liked the book for many of the same reasons my mom gave me for loving it. For it's descriptions and it's style, for it's symbolism. I like it for it's depiction of a culture in flux, of the impact of war for those on the home front, of the all too human condition that one never sees one's self as the bad guy. I do not like it for the characters. Rhett is an asshole, Ashley has a lot in common with a wet towel, only less interesting. Melanie is okay but can at times, give one a toothache. Scarlett is a brat. The glorifying of a time when people owned other people is disturbing, full stop.

It was those parts that made me profoundly uncomfortable and I had to remind myself over and over that this was a novel about civil war Georgia and the rich people that inhabited it before, during, and directly after. This was how those people would think, talk and behave. It was wrong then, it's wrong now.

Now, I'm going to look at the symbolism in this book because I found it facinating.

Gone with the wind is far more complex than I thought when I was a kid or after I watched the movie. The collective consciousness holds Rhett Butler and Scarlett O'Hara's romance to be the heart of the story... But it's not. Scarlett herself is the heart of the story. Honestly, Rhett driffs in and out when Scarlett needs either a dose of levity, a hard dose of truth, or a leg up on a hard fight. He doesn't rescue her, he helps her get the tools, and shows her the path to rescue herself.

Scarlett is an odd character. She has so many good points and bad points that she is nearly neutral. She's self-centered, but will fiercely care for and look after those she considers family, or as she calls them "my own". She will, on the surface ( for as the book says, it was all surface with her) resent every step taken, dollar spent, or moment given but she will keep doing it. She's opportunistic and ruthless with it, but she doesn't do it for the hell of it, she does it when backed into a corner. She's inpatient with her children, but her actions show that she loves them. She wants to do right by the social customs she was raised with and that the South cling to even after the war, but she's far too practical to pay them any more than lip service unless they fit her purposes.

Katie Scarlett O'Hara *is* rural Georgia. The colors that are always used to describe the land and Tara are red, green, black and white. In Scarlett we have described, red lips, green eyes ("without a hint of hazel"), white skin and black hair. She often wears these colors as well. Scarlett grows and changes along with Georgia and in fact, the reader is treated to the change of Georgia in a way that makes it more important than the changes of the characters. There are long stretches of discription of Georgia, especially Clayton County where Tara is. Long passages of the feelings of Georgia's people, before, during and after the war. Scarlett's life story from age 16 to age 28 are placed in between, and I have to think that the composition of the book was deliberate (I've never read any literary analysis GWTW, this is just me rambling).

Scarlett is told by her father, early in the book, that an Irishman's land is like his mother. Gerald O'Hara, an Irish immigrant, goes on to tell her that this kinship to the land is the same for anyone with a drop of Irish blood. In Scarlett, this goes further, for not only is the land her mother, she is,truly it's daughter.

Since she only swims in the shallow depths of her mind, she is unaware of her deeper waters. She does have them, she just pays no attention to what lives there. Weirdly, what lives there is what truly moves her. Early in the book the reader is told that although she didn't know it, she loved Tara, she was at peace there.

Nature is neutral,nature doesn't care about wars, politics or customs. At her core Scarlett doesn't care about these things either. Throughout the book the reader is told, that Scarlett doesn't care about anything that didn't directly affect her. This is true, and she is called out fairly often by other characters for being self-centered. However, her selfishness has a different feel than say, Bella Swan, Veruca Salt, or various other literary brats.

Scarlett feels less like one only,out to further her own interests and more like one who is trying to maintain her niche in her environment. For a living thing to thrive, their environment must support them. When an environment changes, the living thing either adapts or dies. Scarlett adapted.

Unable to convince Ashley Wilkes to break his engagement to Melanie Hamilton, being more obvious about her feelings for him than she thought, facing shame and questions to her reputation that would devastate her social standing and also possibly damage her family, she took swift action. She married Charles Hamilton, Melanie's brother. Why? It would shut up those who thought her in love with Ashley, thus saving her reputation. Plus, she figured it would hurt those she saw,as a threat to her. Like a river wearing a path around a tree, she avoided the obstical and continued on.

So if Scarlett is Georgia what about our other big characters?

Rhett is change, and time, like Scarlett he's nearly morally neutral.

Ashley is the past, he's the southern gentleman that the culture out grew.

Melanie a sheltering force. She reads as sweet and proper, but is always supporting Scarlett, even when her choices do not line up with the social system.

So, let's look at each of these characters in relation to our green-eyed force of nature.

I’m going to start with Ashley. Scarlett is fixated on him from the beginning. One can make many arguments as to why. He’s the only man not falling all over himself to get her attention, he very much represents the white knight to her, having “fallen in love” with him when he rode up to Tara after being away from Twelve Oaks, the reason as old as time, because she can’t have him, and her father says he’s not a good match for her. All of these are true, but to look at it from the symbolism angle:

Scarlett is Georgia,. The land and the plantation culture, she’s comfortable in her world at the start of the book. She doesn’t care at all about the war. It’s something that’s happening around her, something she is dreadfully bored by. Ashley represents that comfort, being with him means keeping things the same, staying the girl who only has to worry herself with parties, and being a plantation wife. Life would be slow and easy.

Time goes on, when everything goes wrong and Tara falls into poverty, Scarlett adapts. This girl who only a few years before married a man to save face, had never expected to work, now has to bust her tail trying to keep everyone fed. She wants Ashley, still, because she desperately wants to go back to that past, to where things were simple, to where hunger was not an issue.

The problem is that, Scarlett views Ashley through a haze of sentimentality, and Ashley is, himself, the embodiment of rose tinted nostalgia. He is not like Scarlett, longing for that time, but functioning in reality. He cannot exist outside of it; he’s not wishing for a time when all he had to do was talk books and philosophy with Melanie, he is of that time and he can do nothing when its gone.

Ashley Wilkes is an embroidered cloth of the antebellum south. He's the neat picture that faces outward, the pleasent part that the one weilding the needle wanted people to see. What is hidden is the web of threads criss-crossing each other, the nests of string, the knots and the things those messy parts tell of. The pricked fingers, the broken threads, the bent needles, stitches that were undone, tangles. The work and the pain that went into making that pretty picture look effortless. In short, he's what Scarlett and others at the start of the book thought of their culture and society. The work of the slaves was just simply there, what mattered was the result. Scarlett, like the society at large, had to let that go, face what it was. Not a shining example to return to, but an impractical relic of the past.

Rhett on the other hand sort of drifts in and out of the awareness of the main characters, He is always sort of there. He sees the writing on the wall, knows that many of the social conventions are on their way out and nudges Scarlett in the direction she wants to go in anyway.

After Charles dies, and Scarlett is in mourning, tradition dictating that she wear black, Rhett buys her a green hat and tells her he will take it away if she has it dyed.

When Tara is about to be lost, and Rhett refuses to give her money, Scarlett, without shame and with ruthless practicality, steals and marries her sister Suellen's suitor.

Why? Because she knew that Suellen would not have used any of the money she might have come into to save Tara.

Scarlett then takes over her new husband's business. She has a talent for it, and does well. Rhett encourages this unconventional behavior by lending her money to buy a sawmill which she runs.

This loan is interesting because it has a condition. He loans her the money as long as it isn't used to help Ashley.

This could be seen as an opportunity that would only really work if not given over to the conventions of the past. This plays out some what when it turns out that Ashley really sucks at doing... Well anything useful, really.

When Rhett and Scarlett eventually marry, he is proud to have a smart wife.

Rhett, as change, sees that Scarlett can and should break free from the social expectations that hem her in, when she does, she tends to do well. They are prosperous. What gets her in trouble is her constent looking back, pineing for Ashley, for the past that never was what it seemed, and the lost future that never would have been what she thought. Case in point, Scarlett and Rhett have Bonnie, who Rhett adores, Scarlett seems contented in her marriage. Then what happens? Ashley tells Scarlett that he is jealous of Rhett. And Scarlett promptly demands that she and Rhett sleep in separate rooms.

Later, we continue to go all soap opera when Scarlett and Ashley share an embrace and Ashley's sister, India, spreads a rumour of an affair. Melanie kicks her out of her house, but Rhett has heard. Enticements of the past impeding the progress to the future.

Rhett is near his breaking point with Scarlett and her focus on Ashley. He forces himself on her. Change trying to force itself on the culture through a vile and violent act. That is not a way to move forward, however.

Scarlett becomes pregnant, argues with a fed up Rhett, and falls down the stairs, losing the baby. Scarlett doesn't want anything to do with Rhett after this happens, understandably. A lot of change made in violence is resented and rejected. This leaves Rhett at a loss.

When Bonnie dies (it could be argued that she represents a new south, one that is not held back by convention, but is ultimately killed by the strong hold that those conventions had on the culture) Rhett is broken. And just when Scarlett is willing to embrace change, Rhett decides to leave, to find his own version of south that Ashley had been clinging to. This could be interpreted a couple of different ways. It could be seen as, that change is brought about by time and acceptence, and that the lack of the latter means that the former will not be effective and pass you by. Or, and this is the interpretation that I prefer, the fact that time, in regards to culture, repeats. Every generation has experienced this. You spend your youth laughing at the way things were done “back in the day” maybe even proclaiming that when you’re older, you won’t talk about “Kids these days…” but then one day you find that everything that was familiar to you has become outdated and you don’t understand, and therefore don’t like what is happening now and you find yourself wishing for the time when you were so sure and you understood everything. Ashley represents a past after a major upheavel, Rhett, is simply the march of time that every now and again will turn around and walk backwards to see where he’s been. Now, one could argue that Rhett is going to end up like Ashley, afterall, he’s looking for his past again. But I feel that Rhett is retreating into the past because of the trauma he experience in losing Bonnie and giving up on Scarlett. It’s a respite, rather than a permanate state of mind, like it is with Ashley. Ashley’s mind was always in the more idealized place, no matter the circumstsnce. It was the war that rattled his viewpoint of the world. Rhett is grounded in reality, he just wants to go home. Ashley is a rerun of an old tv show, Rhett is a nostaligia inspired reboot.

And Melanie. Ahh, Melly, silk wrapped iron, she is.

If this book has one "good guy" it's Melanie. If Ashley is pulling Scarlett (Georgia) back and Rhett is marching her forward, Melanie is a sheltering force, and Scarlett's counter point. Melanie has a streanth of her own and it is a perfect compainon to Scarlett's straightforward determination. While listening to this book, the phrase "speak softly and carry a big stick" kept coming to mind when it came to Melly. There are times that a soft spoken assurance, a politely worded insistence can be more powerful than anything else and Melanie shows that. The two prop each other up. When Scarlett kills the Yankee that invaded Tara, she helped bury the body. When Scarlett is demanding and short-tempered in regards to work being done around Tara during the lean times, Melly backs her up, but sweetens the tone. It takes a quiet fortitude to keep the peace in a way that still allows for getting things done and Melanie enables Scarlett to do just that. She knows the ins and outs of society rules and can weave her way through them with more ease than Scarlett. As such, she recognizes when Scarlett has to bend or break those rules to ensure the family's survival and knows just the right way to phrase it to give her sister in law enough wiggle room to keep her on society's good graces.

She Dances with Rhett for the cause even while in mourning? Melly insists she's doing it out of memory of Charlie. She does more than sit and home and be a widow? Melly points out that Scarlett is young and should be allowed some leeway.

Ashley's sister spreads a roumor about Scarlett and Ashley while the former is married to Rhett? Melly banishes her from the house.

When Melanie dies, Scarlett realizes how much she has meant to her and I would argue that it is her sisterhood and partnership with Melanie that is central to the story, rather than Scarlett's relationship with Rhett.

Each of these main characters are either rejected or leave just as Scarlett's deeper motives and thoughts float to the surface where she pays attention to them.

Melly dies when Scarlett is finally ready to stand on her own, because the social rules are being phased out, she doesn't need Melanie's gentle protection any more. With the phasing out of those rules, Ashley is outdated and unappealing and finally, Rhett and time move on, now that they have had their effect. And what is left standing is a changed Scarlett O'Hara in a changed world.

#book #books #gone with the wind #margaret mitchell #ramble #long post #thirty nine #Book blogging 2020

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ft-dads-au · 5 years ago

Text

Come Into Bloom

Femslash Fairies 2020 Prompt: Flower Shop Pairing: Erza x Mirajane A Collaboration by @mdelpin and @oryu404 AO3 | FF.Net September 25, 2021

“It’s getting pretty crowded out there,” Sherry commented to Erza as she looked out the shop window.

“Hopefully, that will be good for us,” Erza mumbled as she worked on another corsage, this one a pretty combination of lavender and pink flowers.

They were right in the middle of Fantasia, the biggest flower holiday of the year. Unlike Valentine’s Day, which was mostly targeted at lovers, Fantasia was meant for everyone. It was just as likely for a father to give a token to his children, as to his partner, or even his own parents.

Erza had already made Natsu's order that morning, a beautiful flower crown for Hana, as well as a large bouquet for Gray. Atlas, Aki and the twins were getting some flower-shaped cookies that Mira and Elfman had baked and decorated for the boys the previous night as they were a little too young to appreciate flowers.

“Isn’t it about time for Mira to get here?” Sherry asked her employer, smiling as Erza’s hands immediately went to her hair.

“Oh yes, you’re right,” Erza looked back down at her work table not wanting to give away her agitation.

“It’s so nice that you two make a habit of having lunch together every Saturday,” Sherry enthused, with hearts in her eyes. “Are you getting her something for Fantasia?”

“I uhm, hadn’t thought about it,” Erza lied, not wanting to admit that she had spent hours trying to devise the perfect bouquet of flowers. One that would let Mira know once and for all how she felt about her, but with all the orders she needed to fill plus walk-ins, there had been no time. It was only her and Sherry, and she couldn’t afford to hire more employees.

She’d started working at Rose of Yūen during her college days, and once she’d graduated, she’d bought it from the elderly couple who had owned it. It was her pride and joy, but it also took up a lot of her time, the rest of which was usually claimed by her brother and niece and nephew.

Which is how she had ended up pining for the same woman for years and finding multiple excuses to do nothing about it.

The tinkling of the shop’s door alerted them to a visitor, and Sherry went to help their customer, knowing that Erza was about to go on her lunch break. Erza smiled, remembering the special order she had hidden in her office cooler. Ren Akatsuki, Sherry’s husband, would be by to pick it up as soon as Sherry went on her own break.

That was one of the things she loved about having the shop. Most of the time, she got to see the best in people. The shy teenage boy anxiously looking for a corsage for his first date, the elderly couples that were still madly in love with each other even after a lifetime together and everything in between.

There was Rogue Eucliffe who special ordered flowers from Edolas, to give his husband a taste of his home country. And Alzack Connell, who bought flowers for both his wife and daughter at least once a month and would probably stop in today.

Even couples who were rekindling a love thought lost long ago. Silver Fullbuster and Gildarts Clive were probably some of her favorite customers, always coming in full of boisterous insults towards the other, yet the love in their eyes was unmistakable.

In fact, it seemed like everyone around her was either in love or starting a relationship. Even her brother, who had unexpectedly become a widower last year, had already found someone. While Erza remained forever alone.

She was done with that though, after spending the last eight years building up her business and helping Natsu get back on his feet, it was time to do something for herself. To stop pining for her best friend and try her own hand at love. If she didn’t do something soon someone was likely to whisk Mira off her feet, and she’d have no one to blame but herself.

It was while she was lost in these thoughts that Erza felt a soft tap on her shoulder. She looked up to see Mira smiling at her, “You always get so lost in your flowers. I’m gonna go set these up in your office, okay?”

Mira moved towards the office without waiting for Erza's approval, a bag of food from Fairy Tail in each hand. When she noticed Erza wasn’t following, she called behind her, “Hurry up, I brought you a surprise, but if you make me wait too long, I’ll eat it myself!”

Erza put her tools down and scrambled, knowing there was a good chance the surprise was strawberry cake, and she wasn’t about to give that up.

Her office wasn’t very large, but there was enough room for her desk and chair, a watercooler and a small round table with two plastic chairs. Mira had already set out the food, rolling her eyes when Erza’s eyes were already on the two slices of cake that were visible inside a clear plastic container. “How you don’t weigh 300 pounds, I’ll never know,” Mira giggled.

Erza ignored the comment, digging into the chicken pot pie Mira had brought. “Mhmm, this is really good!” she complimented, closing her eyes to savor all the different flavors.

“Yeah, I remembered it was your favorite. I changed the recipe up a little, made it lighter, and the crust a little flakier.”

“Whatever you did, it’s amazing!”

“You really are as bad as Natsu, just as messy too,” Mira laughed fondly, grabbing a napkin from the bag and handing it to Erza, who had sauce dripping down her chin, before taking a bite from her own dish.

“Have you been very busy today with Fantasia?” Mira asked curiously.

“Yeah, a lot of walk-ins, lots of special requests too,” Erza replied, continuing to eat, “What about you guys?”

“It’s still a little early for the drinking crowd, but the restaurant was pretty busy, they had Natsu subbing in for a waiter that called in sick, at least until the bar needs him back. That was uhm, interesting,” Mira’s eyes twinkled with mirth, “Good thing he’s an excellent bartender.”

She leaned forward in her chair, curious as always, “What kinds of special requests?”

“Well, different flowers can mean different things, it’s almost like a language all its own. Like those flowers that Rogue gets for Sting? Those mean everlasting love.”

“Why am I not surprised? Those two are sickening,” Mira snorted, “Is there one that means I really kind of just like you as a friend?”

“Well, there’s yellow roses, they’re not associated with romance. Oh, and alstroemeria,” Erza recited, clarifying when she saw Mira’s blank expression,” It’s a type of lily.”

She got up and opened one of her desk drawers, grabbing a book and bringing it back to the table. She looked through it until she found a picture of the flower she had mentioned and showed it to Mira.

It was a beautiful flower that came in a variety of bright colors, with center petals that had contrasting stripes. Mira studied the picture, and it’s given description curiously, but her attention was soon drawn by other flowers on the page.

"Wow, I never knew that there was so much symbolism behind flowers," she mused as she turned the page, "It’s a lot more complicated than I’d thought.” She looked up at Erza, a devious smirk on her lips and a twinkle of mischief in her eyes that Erza found really adorable, but also a tad bit troubling. “Hey, are there any flowers that have an offensive meaning?”

Erza snorted, immediately thinking about the first time Gildarts had come to her shop with a similar question, “Look up yellow carnations.”

“Disappointment and rejection? Ouch!” Mira giggled, and the sound translated into butterflies in Erza’s stomach. “So, do you know all of these by heart?”

“I know most of them, but there are so many variations, and each color often has its own meaning-”

Before Erza had the chance to get lost in the passion she had for her job, she was interrupted by a knock on the door.

“Erza, I’m sorry to disrupt your lunch, but do you think you could come out here for a few minutes? There are several customers and another special order,” Sherry looked apologetic.

While slightly disappointed, Erza didn’t mind too much, she’d already known it was probably going to be a busy day.

“I’m sorry, I’ll try to hurry,” Erza apologized to Mira, wiping her face with the napkin before getting up from the table and rushing out the door, a smile already on her face.

Mira continued eating, grabbing the book Erza had left on the table and flipping through its pages, the beginnings of an idea blooming in her mind.

Erza never returned to finish her lunch, and eventually, Mira had to go back to work, so she cleaned up, putting Erza’s food in her small fridge and leaving both pieces of cake for her to eat later.

Mira hurried to the door waving goodbye to both Sherry and Erza on her way out.

0-0

It had been a long day, both Erza and Sherry had been going nonstop, although Erza insisted Sherry take her break if only so she could get Ren his flowers.

They had sold out of everything in the refrigerators and had to scramble to replenish them. Erza felt like she had seen just about everyone in town. Loke came in to get corsages and flower crowns for his daughters, and a small bouquet for Lucy.

Silver and Gildarts had come in with Rogue and the kids, along with an order from Gray for Natsu. Lyon had surprised both her and Sherry by coming in to get something for Chelia. That had probably been her favorite moment of the day, watching the usually stoic Lyon acting nervous and awkward as he tried to find something special for the daughter he’d just discovered he had.

Almost as lovely as watching Sherry help him pick something Chelia would like. Alzack, Macao, Warren, Cana, Juvia, the list went on and on. About the only person she hadn’t seen was Sting.

Almost as if on cue, Sting raced in, hair disheveled, breathing in gasps and eyeing her worriedly, “Am I too late?”

“You’re fine,” Erza assured him, “We don’t close for another hour.”

“Oh, good. Rogue has the car, and I had to run here from the hospital.”

“The hospital?” Erza’s eyes widened in disbelief, “You’re an idiot, you should have taken a taxi or something.”

“No, there’s a ton of traffic, they’re starting to close off the streets for tonight’s events.”

“I see,” She went into her office returning with a folding chair and a cup of water. ”Sit.”

“Now, what nauseatingly romantic thing are you wanting this time?” she teased.

“Well, Rogue’s playing his first gig tonight since forever,” Sting’s eyes blazed with pride, “So here’s what I was thinking.”

And as he began telling her what he wanted, she wasn’t disappointed. They chatted as she worked on Rogue’s flowers, and when the phone rang, Sherry answered it.

“Alright, I’ll give her your order, thanks!” Sherry spoke into the phone, “What’s that? Oh, yeah, got it! Don’t forget Hana’s flower crown, okay. No, he already paid for that as well as Gray’s arrangement. Thanks, Mira!”

“What do you think?” Erza showed Sting her finished arrangement, and his wide grin made her smile wistfully. She handed the flowers over and reminded Sherry to give him the frequent customer/family discount.

“Are you going to meet with us later?” Sting peered at her from behind the enormous bouquet, which Erza already knew Rogue was going to have a hard time moving around with. Hopefully, they’d thought to bring the stroller.

“I’m not sure yet, I have to go to Fairy Tail to drop off Natsu’s stuff, I’ll decide then.”

“Does that mean you’ll decide when you know whether Mira is going?” Sting regarded her with a knowing grin. “Seriously, Erza, are you ever going to do something? Your brother has discovered a whole new sexuality in the time it’s taken you to make a move.”

“Go away, Sting,” Erza muttered in annoyance but mostly because she knew he was right.

“Well, I hope you come,” Sting entreated, “it will be fun to have everyone together.” He struggled to balance the flowers in one arm as he paid for them and then left, nearly missing the door and walking into the wall because of the obstructed view.

Erza shook her head as she watched him leave, reminded of how similar he sometimes was to her brother. Filled with enthusiasm and energy, a bit silly, but with a good heart. They were also amazingly devoted partners, which was reflected in their grand romantic gestures.

How she’d wanted to do something special for Mira, she thought sadly. Maybe there was still time! But before she could give it any real thought, Sherry had given her the order she’d taken over the phone. It was for Mirajane Strauss.

Erza read the names of the flowers listed on the order again: red tulips, red roses, gardenias, and amaryllis. She scrunched up her face in distaste at the combination.

“You’re sure these are the flowers she wanted?” she challenged.

“Yep, she was especially adamant about the red tulips,” Sherry informed her.

Red tulips, red roses, gardenias, and amaryllis. Four species of flowers that looked so vastly different from each other that Erza wasn’t even sure she could combine them into an arrangement that would actually be aesthetically pleasing. But it was for Mira, so she was going to give it her absolute best.

It was for Mira.

Wait a second… Erza listed the order in her head once again with growing anxiety. It couldn’t be a coincidence that Mira had requested these flowers after she’d been looking in that book Erza had shown her during lunch break. They all referred to deep love, affection, and attraction. It was a love confession hastily pieced together in flower meanings.

Shit! Erza’s heart pounded in her chest, the fear that she might have waited too long making her feel light-headed. Who were these flowers for? Erza wracked her brain to think of anyone Mira might have mentioned recently. Mira worked at Fairy Tail, she got hit on constantly, but she usually just laughed it off.

They’d both dated people casually over the years, but it never lasted long, and they always returned to their comfortable camaraderie, laughing at how there was no one out there for them. Although in Erza’s case, what she really meant was there’s no one out there for me but you.

She reviewed the meanings in her head.

Red tulips - a declaration of love, perfect love

Red roses - the most classic of all expressions of love, a child could tell you what it meant.

Gardenias- a symbol of purity and sweetness

Amaryllis - splendid beauty

Every one of these flowers was like a stab to her heart.

“Did uhm, did she say she was picking these up herself?”

“No, she asked that you bring it to Fairy Tail along with Natsu’s stuff,” Sherry answered moving towards the back of the shop, where they kept overstock and orders they didn’t want to be mixed in with sale items, “I’m going to get his things from the back now.”

“Ah, okay, thank you,” Erza muttered, gripping the edges of the table tightly.

“Are you okay?” Sherry hovered over her in concern.

“I’m fine, just a little tired,” Erza smiled weakly.

“Do you want me to take over?”

“No!” Erza replied quickly, “It’s for Mira, I should be the one to do it.”

Sherry didn’t look convinced by her assurances, but she went into Erza’s office, returning with a glass of water and the box containing the cakes Mira had left for her. “Here, eat something, you never even finished your lunch. I’ll go pick the flowers, and you can arrange them, alright?”

Erza nodded gratefully, sitting down on the chair she had brought out for Sting. She opened the container, eating her cake but for once, finding no joy in it. She still managed to eat both pieces by the time Sherry came back, arms laden with the requested flowers.

“I’m going to lock the door. Otherwise, we’ll never be able to leave,” Sherry called over her shoulder.

Erza didn’t answer, already busy with the flowers on her work table. Well, there was nothing she could do; if Mira had given her heart to another, then she would just have to accept it. Mira deserved all the happiness in the world. They would still be friends and aunts to Natsu’s children.

She would make Mira the most beautiful bouquet that could possibly be made with these flowers, and she would even add her own well wishes to it.

“Sherry? Can you get me some red peonies, please?”

“Just a minute, I’m getting Natsu’s order.”

Erza arranged and rearranged, not satisfied with her efforts. She jumped when Sherry arrived with the flowers she’s asked for.

“More red?” Sherry wrinkled her nose in distaste, “Are you sure that’s what you want? That bouquet does not exactly scream love.”

“Actually, that’s exactly what it’s screaming,” Erza disagreed, showing her the piece of paper that she’d scribbled the order on. “The red peonies are to wish her luck.”

“Oh! Oh,” Sherry frowned, realizing what Erza was saying. She was about to say something else when there was a tapping on the door. A quick peek showed Ren and Chelia waiting for her outside.

“Do you want me to stay with you?” Sherry asked in a soft voice, “I can ask them to come back later.”

“Nonsense, go have fun with your family, I’ll see you on Monday!”

Sherry didn’t look convinced, but she gave Erza a hug, letting herself out and locking the door from the outside.

With no one left to act tough for, Erza let her tears flow as she continued to work, arranging and rearranging once again until she was satisfied.

0-0

Mira stood next to Natsu, both trying to stay on top of all the customers that had flooded the bar. She was growing increasingly nervous the closer it got to the end of her shift, knowing Erza would show up any minute. She’d bungled up more orders than she could count, having to resort to shameless flirting to keep from getting in trouble. Noticing her state, Natsu took pity on her, asking her to prep fruit for him while he handled the drink orders.

“It’s gonna be fine,” he assured her with one of his smiles, giving her shoulder a quick squeeze before moving on to a customer that was calling for his attention.

For most people, being handed a knife while they were in turmoil was a terrible idea, but for Mira, who had a knife in hand as often as not, it was fine. The repetitive action of cutting the lemons, limes, and oranges needed for drink garnishes was relaxing.

When she’d arrived back at work from her interrupted lunch with Erza, she had been excited about her idea. She’d written down the names of a bunch of flowers and their meanings, trying to construct a love confession in a language Erza would be sure to understand.

A few hours later, she had been wavering, scared that maybe she’d been reading the signals wrong all these years. If she went through with her plan, she would only be exposing herself to heartbreak and ruining the beautiful friendship she and Erza had worked so hard to sustain over the years.

There had always been so many reasons for Mira not to start anything. At first, it had been because they hadn’t exactly hit it off in the beginning. Then, when that had changed, it was because she was trying to sort out the mess Elfman had gotten himself into, especially after it had caused Lisanna to run away in fear. To Edolas, where she was followed by Natsu, and about two years later, they got married.

It had felt awkward to ask Erza out once they were linked by family, so Mira had dated others instead, trying to distance herself from the love and attraction she felt for Erza. None of them had worked out. Her heart just hadn’t been in them, and when the years hadn’t worn down her feelings one bit, she’d begun to think maybe it was time to take a chance.

But then Lisanna had died, and Mira had been grieving and trying to be there for Natsu, who was clearly falling apart. It was a new excuse but one that felt valid. After all, if she acted now and things didn’t work out between them, it would affect Hana and Atlas, which wasn’t fair to them. The last thing they needed was for their aunts, who each fulfilled a part of a female role model they missed so deeply, to be the cause of uncomfortable tensions.

Sharing babysitting duties with Erza and helping raise the kids had been fun, bringing them even closer together, but also filling Mira’s head with visions of what it might be like if the kids they were taking care of were theirs instead.

But it had been watching Natsu find love again with Gray that had truly sparked her to want to make her own move. If Gray, who had just come out of what was arguably the worst relationship ever, was willing to take a chance on a Dragneel, then why not her? And if Natsu, whose whole life had been turned upside down when he lost his wife granted himself another shot at love, then why shouldn’t she?

It felt right. Maybe that was just Mira's inner hopeless romantic speaking, but it spoke loud and clear, and she was done ignoring it. Besides, they had both turned thirty that year. Not that Mira felt old or anything, but she sure as hell wasn’t getting any younger either. She’d been looking forward to starting a family of her own for so long now. All she needed was someone amazing to start it with.

And Erza was amazing. She was smart, beautiful, and kind, and she had this awkward vulnerability that was incredibly endearing. Which was not to say that Mira wasn’t aware of her faults, like her stubbornness, and her fiery temper.

Mira knew that Erza wasn’t perfect, she was just perfect for her.

It had been Natsu who had encouraged her to make the call, telling her she would never know if she didn’t try, and Fantasia was a perfect occasion. He’d looked over the flowers she had jotted down, making his own suggestions.

“Here, do these. There’s no way she could mistake it,” Natsu assured her.

“How can you be so sure?” Mira asked, eyebrow raised in question.

“Because they all clash horribly in a mess of red that no sane person would ever like,” Natsu’s eyes crinkled with merriment.

Mira stared at him in disbelief and then began to laugh, “Is that what you did with Gray?”

“No, we were just honest with each other, but you two suck at that so gaudy bouquet it is!”

Mira had swatted at him playfully, but she had to admit he was right, she and Erza never seemed to be able to tell each other how they felt about each other, always tiptoeing around anything that might upset the balance they had achieved.

So she had made the call, relieved to hear Sherry’s cheerful voice answer the phone and now there was nothing left to do except wait.

Mira had sliced enough fruit to keep the night shift bartenders going through their entire shift, and still, Erza hadn’t arrived. She could see Makarov and Porlyusica already waiting outside with Atlas, Hana, and Wendy. Had she been held up at the shop?

A few minutes later, there was an unmistakable flash of scarlet, and she could see Erza talking to her foster parents, arms full of packages, with both kids latching on to her excitedly.

“You ready to go?” Natsu asked, signaling the end of their shift.

“As ready as I’ll ever be, I suppose,” Mira sighed, the natural confidence she usually exuded escaping her for once.

Natsu snickered and grabbed her hand, pulling her behind him as he weaved his way out of the crowded bar and to their waiting family. They were the last to arrive, and Mira was pleased to see that Gray had joined them, even if he was wearing a cap and large sunglasses. Elfman had made it too. Natsu let go of her hand, heading to Erza and asking for his purchases.

Once Erza had finished helping Natsu, she turned towards Mira. “I brought your order too, even added a touch of red peonies for luck,” she chirped with a fake cheerfulness that confused Mira, as she accepted the bouquet she had ordered.

She examined the flowers in her hand and immediately saw what Natsu had meant. As much as Erza had obviously tried to make the flowers she had requested look as appealing as possible, it was a cacophony of contrasting reds, loud and garish. Those flowers had no business being together. And apparently, Erza had felt the need to add her own touch to the mix, yet another red flower.

What the heck? Red peonies for luck? What did she need luck for?

Erza refused to meet her eyes, and if it hadn’t been for that odd phrase, Mira would have expected some yellow carnations in her future. When she looked at her more closely, Mira saw that Erza’s eyes were puffy as if she’d been crying recently.

Did something happen?

“Luck?” Mira blinked owlishly, trying to understand what was going through Erza’s mind.

“Yes, for you. So that you get the answer you want from whoever you give those to,” Erza managed an awkward smile that tore at Mira’s heart as she finally put two and two together.

“Whoever I give them to?” A laugh escaped her before she could stop it. The hilarity of the situation too much for her to handle. Here she’d thought she’d been as brazen as could be, and all she’d accomplished was to make Erza think they were for someone else.

Erza didn’t seem to know how to react to Mira’s outburst. She peered at her before once again looking down.

“They’re for you, you dummy,” Mira wiped her eyes, trying to ignore the fact that everyone in their group was staring at them with either curious eyes or knowing smiles.

“F-for me?” Erza stammered, her face turning as bright red as her hair once she realized her mistake. A tentative smile crossed her lips.

“Yes, for you,” Mira repeated, handing the bouquet over to Erza with a grin, waiting for her to say something.

“Did your added luck work in my favor?” Mira teased when Erza remained silent, although truth be told, she was starting to feel nervous.

Tears shimmered in Erza’s eyes as she nodded happily, taking out one last item from the bag she had brought from the store and handing it to Mira. It was the most beautiful bouquet Mira had ever seen, and she didn’t have to know anything about flowers to understand that Erza had poured all of herself into it.

They stared at each other, frozen in place by all the years they had spent hoping for this moment, imagining it in hundreds of different ways. Both desperate to take the next step but also terrified of what it would mean.

“Just kiss already,” Hana’s voice startled both of them out of their reverie, followed by the well-meaning laughs of their family and closest friends. She might have been only eight years old, but she’d managed to say what they had all been thinking.

So Erza and Mira did, neither one sure of who took the first step towards the other, or who’s lips pressed against who’s first. All they knew was that as awkward as the moment was, it was also perfect.

They were soon surrounded by the loud congratulations and, in some cases, happy tears of their family. Even though they were out in public, the promise of what was to come enough to make them both smile radiantly.

For the rest of the evening, they enjoyed the festivities with the others, walking hand in hand through the streets of Magnolia. They fed each other snacks from the many food carts that had gathered around the city center, watched Phantom Lord's live performance, slow dancing to some of their songs, and topping off the evening with soft kisses underneath the fireworks.

It was a beautiful evening, filled with more than they could’ve hoped for, but they both couldn't help but look forward to the moment when they were finally alone and could express their feelings more privately.

@femslashfairies

#fairy tail #ftdadsau #femslashfairies2020 #erzajane #ftlgbtales #fics #prompt: flower shop

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blackkudos · 5 years ago

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Bernice King

Bernice Albertine King (born March 28, 1963) is an American minister and the youngest child of civil rights leaders Martin Luther King Jr. and Coretta Scott King. She was five years old when her father was assassinated. In her adolescence, King chose to work towards becoming a minister after having a breakdown from watching a documentary about her father. King was 17 when she was invited to speak at the United Nations. Twenty years after her father was assassinated, she preached her trial sermon. Inspired by her parents' activism, she was arrested multiple times during her early adulthood.

Her mother suffered a stroke in 2005 and, after she died the following year, King delivered the eulogy at her funeral. A turning point in her life, King experienced conflict within her family when her sister Yolanda and brother Dexter supported the sale of the King Center for Nonviolent Social Change. After her sister died in 2007, she delivered the eulogy for her as well. She supported the presidential campaign of Barack Obama in 2008 and called his nomination as part of her father's dream.

King was elected president of the Southern Christian Leadership Conference in 2009. Her elder brother Martin III and her father had previously held the position. She was the first woman elected to the presidency in the organization's history, amidst the SCLC holding two separate conventions. King became upset with the actions of the SCLC, amid feeling that the organization was ignoring her suggestions and declined the presidency in January 2010.

King became CEO of the King Center only months afterward. King's primary focus as CEO of The King Center and in life is to ensure that her father's nonviolent philosophy and methodology (which The King Center calls Nonviolence 365) is integrated in various sects of society, including education, government, business, media, arts and entertainment and sports. King believes that Nonviolence 365 is the answer to society's problems and promotes it being embraced as a way of life. King is also the CEO of First Kingdom Management, a Christian consulting firm based in Atlanta, Georgia.

Early life

Early childhood and tragedies

Bernice Albertine King was born on March 28, 1963, in Atlanta, Georgia. The day after she was born, her father had to leave for Birmingham, Alabama, but he rushed back when it was time for Bernice and her mother, Coretta, to leave the hospital. He drove them home himself but, in what was all too typical with the work he was doing, had to leave them again within hours. Following her birth, Harry Belafonte realized the toll the Civil Rights Movement was taking on her mother's time and energy and offered to pay for a nurse to help Coretta with the Kings' four children. They accepted and hired a person that would help with the children for the next five or six years. Her father died a week after Bernice's fifth birthday.

Once, she and her sister Yolanda thought it would be funny to pour water into their father's ear while he was sleeping. Their father, though, was furious. It was the first and only time he would ever spank them.

Later on, Coretta told Bernice that her father had celebrated her fifth birthday, knowledge that has been special to her since. King said she has only two strong memories of her father, one of him at home with their family and the other of him lying in the casket at his funeral. "I don't let people know this, but I think of my father constantly," King said at age 19. "Even though I knew him so little, he left me so much." When her father was assassinated in Memphis, Tennessee, Bernice was asleep. When she woke up, her mother told her that the next time she saw her father would be at his funeral. In the April 1998 issue of BET Entertainment Weekly, King reflected, "I was five when my father was assassinated, so I had no concept of who my father really was. I have been told, but imagine trying to really understand or put it in its proper perspective at that age. When it finally became clear to me around fifteen or sixteen, I was angry at him because he left me. So I didn't want to have anything to do with my father."

After her husband's death, Coretta Scott King took on the role of raising four children as a single mother. Family friends recall that she spent considerable time with Bernice, who feels that being raised by a single parent has given her special insight into single-parent homes. “I didn’t have a father to deal with about boyfriends. I didn’t have a father to show me how a man and woman relate in a family setting. Therefore I have given over my life to mentoring young people. I’m adamant about young people who have been denied a father/daughter relationship.”

Other tragedies followed. King's uncle, Alfred Daniel Williams King, drowned in a swimming pool when Bernice was six on July 21, 1969. Five years later, a mentally ill man shot her grandmother Alberta Williams King to death during a service at the Ebenezer Baptist Church on June 30, 1974. King recalled of her grandmother's death, "I remember that day because I had recovered from having my tonsils removed, and I was really looking forward to getting back to Ebenezer, which was pastored by my grandfather on my dad's side of the family." Just two years later in 1976, her 20-year-old cousin Darlene King died of a heart attack. Her grandfather Martin Luther King Sr. also died of a heart attack on November 11, 1984. Also her other cousin Alfred King the second in 1986.

Finding strength through these childhood tragedies, King jokingly said, required "A lot of prayer. Some crying. Some screaming." Through all of her struggles, she has looked for someone to relate to in "moments" because "nobody fits the bill." Her sister, Yolanda, nearly eight years older, lived through parts of the Civil Rights Movement that she never did. On the other hand, she has written that she believes her brothers have had a life significantly different from hers because "Guys process things differently."

Call to ministry

Bernice has said that the deaths of her grandmother and uncle caused her to have anger issues since she was 16 years old. At that age, she saw Montgomery to Memphis, a documentary film on her father's life from the time of the Montgomery Bus Boycott of 1955 to his assassination in 1968, and "went through almost two hours of crying" and questioning. She had seen the film many times growing up, but the particular viewing "triggered an emotional explosion that later would thrust her into the arms of a loving God." King reflected: "When I saw the funeral scene, I just broke down. I ran out of the cabin into the woods, and for nearly 2-1/2 hours, I just cried." She credited the viewing with influencing her to become a minister like her father, who served as a minister at Ebenezer Baptist Church.

She was with her church youth group in Georgia mountains. King aspired to become the first female President of the United States at the time of seeing the documentary. Timothy McDonald brought the tape of the documentary and comforted her when she started crying. According to McDonald, he explained to her that it was good that she let out how she felt and called coming to terms with her father's death "a stepping stone upon which you will build the rest of your life”.King attended Douglass High School in Atlanta. Her brother Dexter Scott King attended the school as well and graduated when she was a sophomore. At 17, she was invited to speak at the United Nations in the absence of her mother. According to King, she also received a call to ministry that year.

Adult life

At the age of 19, she made her first major speech in Chicago, and stated that "We've come a long way. But we have a long way to go." In early 1983, King gave a speech at St. Sabina Church in Chicago. Many members of the audience said that she reminded them of her father. King attended Grinnell College in Iowa, and graduated from Spelman College, a historically black college in Atlanta, with a degree in psychology. King says she had thoughts of suicide before "God intervened."

King was arrested with her mother Coretta and her brother Martin Luther King III on June 26, 1985 with the offense of demonstrating in front of an embassy. They were participating in anti-apartheid demonstration in front of the South African Embassy. The three stayed in jail overnight. The youngest daughter of Martin Luther King, his widow and his eldest son were charged with a misdemeanor, demonstrating within 500 feet of an embassy.On January 7, 1986, King was arrested with her sister Yolanda and her brother Martin Luther King III for "disorderly conduct." Bernice and her siblings were arrested by officers deployed to the Winn Dixie supermarket. The supermarket had been subject to protest since September 1985, which was when the Southern Christian Leadership Conference began boycotts of South African canned fruit. It was the first time Bernice and her siblings had been arrested together at a protest. On January 15, 1987, what would have been her father's 58th birthday, King spoke in Chicago and told denizens to stay away from drugs.

On May 14, 1990, King became the second woman to be ordained at Ebenezer Baptist Church. She said that it was "the most humbling moment for me in my life." King insisted that she was "not worthy of this high calling. No blood, no sweat, no tears could earn me this high calling."On January 18, 1992, President George H. W. Bush visited the Martin Luther King, Jr. Center for Nonviolent Social Change. King spoke during his visit of the problems of racism, poverty and violence remained in America since her father was alive, but did not directly align any of the issues with President Bush.

In January 1994, King voiced her opposition to New Hampshire's refusal to recognize Martin Luther King, Jr. Day, calling the decision "racist and separatist." On May 21, 1994, she attended the African-American Women's Conference where she said that parents should not let their children listen to "gangster rap" because of messages in the lyrics.In 1996, King published a collection of her sermons and speeches called Hard Questions, Heart Answers. In 2000, she narrated a performance of Aaron Copland's Lincoln Portrait at the Schleswig-Holstein Musik Festival in Kiel, Schleswig-Holstein, Germany. In January of that year, King joined Fred Shuttlesworth in headlining a two-week campus celebration of her father's life at Stanford University.

King said her mother heard Obama's speech at the 2004 Democratic National Convention and contacted her the following day over the senator's address, expressing her belief in Obama's political future. In June 2006, King told a teenage audience that she intended to do more to carry on the legacy of nonviolence espoused by her parents during the 20th annual 100 Black Men of America conference in Atlanta. "My desire is not to be a hypocrite," King said. "I want to make sure my life is not a contradiction when I take a platform."On January 30, 2007, one year after the death of her mother Coretta, King founded the Be A King Scholarship at Spelman College, her alma mater, in honor of her mother's legacy. On June 10, 2007, King acted as a presenter at the 2007 Atlanta H.U.F. Awards. Afeni Shakur said she was happy to have King and the other presenters "participating" that year.

She was an elder at New Birth Missionary Baptist Church, but resigned in May 2011. King joined the church in 2002 and came to regard Bishop Eddie Long as her mentor and spiritual father. The church was the setting for her mother's funeral. Despite her leaving of the church coinciding with Bishop Eddie Long's settlement agreement in sexual misconduct lawsuits he had fought since September 2010, King said that she had planned to leave New Birth Missionary Baptist Church for weeks. "It has nothing to do with anything that's going on with Bishop Long," King said on May 25, 2011. "I always knew I would not be at New Birth forever. This is the time for me to leave." On May 25, 2011, King told an interviewer that her last time serving as a member of the church was the past Sunday. She has said her decision to leave was because of her desire to continue the legacy of her parents, which had grown stronger since the death of her mother. At the time that she chose to leave the church, she planned on starting her own ministry.

King donated $100,000 of her personal funds, while $75,000 was donated from Home Depot and $15,000 from New Birth Missionary Baptist Church. The scholarship will be awarded to two rising seniors at Spelman College who are majoring in music, education or psychology. On May 4, 2013, a rose was planted for King's mother, Coretta, at the Alabama Capitol. Bernice said that while her mother loved roses, she did not have much time to tend to them because she was continuing her husband Martin Luther King, Jr.'s legacy.

On April 29, 2014, King and her brother Martin Luther King III joined Governor of Georgia Nathan Deal while he signed legislation to provide a statue of their father. “We all know that monuments and statues are that, they’re things we put in place for people to remember and it's not always for our generation,” Bernice King said. “It’s really about the next generation.” On May 31, 2014, King accepted a $50,000 grant from Microsoft during the opening of its store at Perimeter Mall in Atlanta. Also in attendance to the ceremony were Mary Carol Alexander, Georgia Department of Labor Commissioner Mark Butler and Representative Tom Taylor. On June 24, 2014, King's parents were posthumously awarded the Congressional Gold Medal. Bernice King stated in a statement released after the award was announced that the King family was "deeply honored" by her parents "being given this award in recognition of their tireless and sacrificial leadership to advance freedom and justice through nonviolence in our nation". King was the keynote speaker at the Atlantic City Rescue Mission 50th anniversary gala, held on August 14, 2014.

First sermon

At the age of 24, Bernice decided to become a minister, and she earned a Master's degree in Divinity and a juris doctor from Emory University. King is also a member of the State Bar of Georgia. During her college years, King considered a career as a television anchor. In May 1988, King was among the students of Emory charging that the college should hire more African-Americans as teachers and teach the works of African-American theologians in its courses. She said, "Black students on predominately White campuses have been ignored, humiliated, intimidated...and in many instances, eliminated." She said the students and people in general had excused the "insensitivity" of the administration and faculty "for too long." Bernice served as a student chaplain at the Georgia Retardation Center and Georgia Baptist Hospital as part of the requirements for her theology class and interned at the Atlanta City Attorney's office. She is a member of the Alpha Kappa Alpha sorority, as was her mother.

On March 27, 1988, nearly 20 years after her father's assassination, King delivered her first sermon at Ebenezer Baptist Church. The sermon's theme was "You've Got To Rise Above The Crowd." King said her decision to deliver the sermon as "affirming a call I received at 17." She also said, "At some point in our lives, comes the moment of decision. For me, that moment is now. I submit myself totally to the will of God." Andrew Young, who attended the sermon, compared her style to her father's and noted their similarities while calling listening to her speak "a very emotional occasion for me."

Young also said that King becoming a minister "almost makes you believe preaching is hereditary," after her service. By delivering an "acceptable sermon," King was given her license to preach by Joseph Roberts, pastor of Ebenezer who stated, "We rejoice with God, the angels and the archangels that another warrior, a peaceful warrior, is fighting under the spirit of her father, grandfather and uncle." Veteran members of the church said her style was similar to her father's.

King's mother said at the time that she was satisfied with her daughter's decision to become a minister and stated that they had become closer than ever in the months leading up to the sermon. She also said listening to her daughter delivering a sermon with the same fervor and intensity her father had "was a joyous occasion; a real thanksgiving." Also in attendance where all three of her elder siblings, Yolanda, Martin Luther King III and Dexter. King's maternal grandparents were reported by her mother to have also been moved by the speech. Her sermon was delivered the day before her twenty-fifth birthday.

King Center

In 2008, King and her brother, Martin Luther King III, filed suit over the alleged mismanagement of funds from the King Center against their brother Dexter Scott King, who then filed a countersuit against them. Dexter King articulated his distress over Bernice's conservative religious views as departing from their father's legacy. In October 2009 the lawsuits were settled out of court.

In January 2012, King was named CEO of the King Center. On May 19, 2012, King met with Aïssata Issoufou Mahamadou, First Lady of Niger and wife of Mahamadou Issoufou. Mahamadou's visit to the King Center was a priority during her trip to the United States, having been an ardent admirer of King's father and mother. King accepted a plaque bearing crucifix symbols from Mahamadou.

On September 26, 2013, Evelyn G. Lowery died at her home. The King Center released a statement from Bernice King in response to her death, with her saying "I am deeply saddened by the death of Mrs. Evelyn Gibson Lowery, and my heart goes out to her husband, Dr. Joseph E. Lowery and their three daughters, Yvonne Kennedy, Karen Lowery and Cheryl Lowery-Osborne. We are never prepared to say 'goodbye' to a loved one."When Vice President Joe Biden aligned with her in celebrating a "naturalization ceremony" for an estimated hundred immigrants on November 16, 2013, she displayed distaste for the terms "illegal aliens" and "illegals".

On March 28, 2014, in honor of King's 51st birthday, the King Center hosted a girl and women's empowerment event. The organization held a special screening of the documentary "Girls Rising." King herself said the experience was "designed to educate, empower and inspire young women to confront and overcome the obstacles they face in their struggles to fulfill their dreams and impact the global community.”

On August 13, 2014, King addressed the shooting death of Michael Brown and demonstrators reacting in response. She called on demonstrators to channel their responses into constructive nonviolent action, and mentioned witnesses giving conflicting accounts of the shooting. On August 19, King expressed her belief that the community of Ferguson, Missouri was crying out for help after years of neglect. It was reported that a small delegation from the King Center would travel to Ferguson and planned to meet with "every element" of the community.The following day, August 20, King released a statement on Michael Brown's death, sympathizing with his parents. On August 26, King addressed students at the Riverview Gardens High School. King told the students her father's legacy was "on the line" and if “this doesn’t turn out the right way, it could begin to have people question what happened years ago.”

Public speaking

King was the keynote speaker at the Seminole County Prayer Breakfast in February 1998. Geoff Koach, spokesman for Strang Communications, said prior to the breakfast that there was an expectation to see "a lot more people of color there" and another reason for her being chosen to speak was to quell racial tensions in the county. He added: "We felt she could help unify citizens, the various organizations, government and church officials."In June 2006, five months after her mother's death, King made it known to a number of teenagers during the panel discussion at the 20th annual 100 Black Men of America conference in Atlanta that she intended to continue the legacy of nonviolence that had been attributed to her parents. That same year, King and her brother Martin Luther King III expressed interest in creating a civil rights museum near Ebenezer Baptist Church and the King Center, where both of their parents are buried.

On January 20, 2009, she joined her brother Martin Luther King III on CNN's The Situation Room to discuss the inauguration of the 44th President of the United States, Barack Obama.

On April 17, 2009, King delivered an address at Liberty University. LU Chancellor Jerry Falwell, Jr. said that the university had been looking forward to King speaking all year. He said King helped "to bridge the divide that was created between different groups of students during the 2008 election season. For example, she gave a strong Gospel message today. African American Christians and white Christians have been separated into different political camps in the last generation or so but they share many of the same core values, especially when it comes to social issues like abortion, marriage and school vouchers." King said the university was a place for "kings-in-training." She told Liberty University students they were "very blessed and highly favored to be at an institution such as this." She called for students to accept “your identity. You’re a king. Don’t ever see yourself as a subject."

On July 7, 2009, King spoke alongside her brother Martin at the Staples Center in Los Angeles at a ceremony commemorating the life of Michael Jackson.

On October 16, 2011, King mentioned at the Martin Luther King, Jr. Memorial opening that the memorial had been in the making for a lengthy amount of time and a "priority" for her mother. She and her brother Martin supported Occupy Wall Street protests. On January 13, 2012, King was the keynote speaker at the 24th Annual Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. Awards Dinner. On March 29, 2012, a month after the shooting death of teenager Trayvon Martin, King released a statement through the King Center. In her remarks, she referred back to the deaths of her father and paternal grandmother, who like Trayvon Martin, were killed by firearms. She concluded her statement by saying we "are still on the journey to the Mountaintop. Join me on the journey as we pray for Trayvon's family, the community of Sanford and all who are in danger of being victims of violence."

She made a public statement with regard to the State of Florida v. George Zimmerman verdict on July 15, 2013 via a CNN appearance with Wolf Blitzer. She clarified a tweet she had posted on Twitter, and explained that the handling of the verdict would "determine how much progress we've made". She spoke at a town hall meeting dedicated to Trayvon Martin and has admitted to having been "heartbroken" by the verdict. She said Trayvon Martin's death and Zimmerman's acquittal were a wake-up call for Americans.

On August 28, 2013, the fiftieth anniversary of the March on Washington, in which her father took part, King spoke and related that the denizens of the United States were "still bound by a cycle of civil unrest and inherit social biases, in our nation and the world, that often times degenerates into violence and destruction". Despite this, she admitted to being pleased to see many young people and women at the event, noting that was not the case during the March on Washington itself. King alluded to the death of teenager Trayvon Martin in February 2012 and said "If freedom stops ringing, then the sound will disappear and the atmosphere will be charged with something else. Fifty years later, we come once again to this special landing on the steps of the Lincoln Memorial to reflect, to renew and to rejuvenate for the continued struggle of freedom and justice."

She spoke at the Boys & Girls Clubs of Northeast Florida fundraiser on October 29, 2013, where she encouraged involvement in the lives of children. King addressed the death of Nelson Mandela on December 5, 2013. On January 20, 2014, the year's Martin Luther King, Jr. Day, King spoke at Ebenezer Baptist Church. King said there was "much work that we must do" and asked if we are "afraid, or are we truly committed to the work that must be done?"

On March 19, 2014, King gave a speech at Seminole State College of Florida as part of the school's Speaker Series. It focused on the 50th anniversary of the March on Washington and the Civil Rights Act of 1964. After her address, King was presented with a key to the city by Sanford Vice Mayor Velma Williams. King spoke at Fontbonne University on September 17, 2014. She was joined by members of the King Center staff, who aided her in urging the community to not act out with violence.

March against same-sex marriage

On December 11, 2004, King participated in a march against same-sex marriage in Atlanta. This action was in contrast to the advocacy of her mother, Coretta, and her older sister Yolanda, both longtime, outspoken supporters of gay rights. She was joined by senior pastor at New Birth Missionary Baptist Church Eddie Long, who said in a written statement that the march was not "to protest same-sex marriage, but to present a unified version of righteousness and justice." At the time of the march, King said she had become a "spiritual daughter" of Eddie Long and the issue of same-sex marriage legalization had left many divided. "The question is, how do you overcome that pain?" she said. "It may be the wedge that stays with us for a long time. We have to get to a place where it does not become the most defining issue of our time."

She incorporated the King Center and the eternal flame at her father's tomb into the march. The King Center denied her permission to begin the march at her father's tomb and accused her of doing so to "provide support for her own personal cause" and "to enhance her personal standing in New Birth." The event was also criticized by gay rights organizations, which stated it betrayed the legacy of her father. Chuck Bowen, a spokesman for Georgia Equality, stated that he was surprised to learn of the march. "I think it's very sad," Bowen said. "I think she's abusing the good name of Dr. King and the work he did creating equality for all Americans."

Deaths of mother and sister and King Center sale

King's mother, Coretta Scott King, had a stroke in August 2005. She died on January 30, 2006. King delivered the eulogy at her funeral. King called her mother's death a "major turning point." She felt that her mother's death was a "rebirth" for her, "in terms of understanding that I come from roots of greatness and I am called to greatness and there's nothing I can do but try to be my best self." On October 24, 2005, Rosa Parks died of natural causes. Her funeral took place on November 2, 2005. Bernice King attended the funeral and delivered remarks on behalf of her mother. Bernice was the only one of the four King children to be with Coretta Scott King when she died and learned that her mother's remains could not be transported back to Georgia, since Mexican authorities required an autopsy first.

In the months between her stroke and death, Bernice and her brother Martin Luther King III vowed to fight the sale of the King Center to the National Park Service. The siblings were put against their brother Dexter and sister Yolanda, who supported and voted in favor of the sale in early December 2005. On December 30, 2005, King and her brother Martin stated that their priority was to preserve their "father's legacy and their mother's dream." Bernice stated of her mother's opinion on the sale that "She felt at some point that it may, in fact, end up with the government, but she never envisioned that in her lifetime." Andrew Young said transferring power would allow the family to focus more on Martin Luther King's message of nonviolence and less on maintaining the grounds. Bernice King said government ownership, which would befall the King Center if it were sold to the National Park Service, would result in "a loss of ideological independence." Martin Luther King III stated that Bernice had been removed as secretary and that he had been replaced as chairman by their brother Dexter.

16 months later, on May 15, 2007, King's sister Yolanda King died after collapsing and was unable to be revived. King delivered the eulogy at her sister's memorial on May 24, 2007. During Yolanda King's eulogy, King admitted that her death was even more difficult than her mother's and said her sister often addressed her as her "one and only sister." She added, "It's very difficult standing here blessed as her one and only sister. Yolanda, from your one and only, I thank you for being a sister and for being a friend." She joined her brothers in lighting candles in their sister's memory.

Southern Christian Leadership Conference

With her brother Martin Luther King III, she has played an active part in reforming the Southern Christian Leadership Conference (SCLC) once led by her father. When she was elected President and CEO of SCLC on October 30, 2009, a position previously held by both her father and brother, she became the first woman to lead the group, but discord in the organization has prevented her taking that position. King's election was won by a 23-to-15 vote, allowing her to defeat Arkansas judge, Wendell Griffen. Specialists said King would need to move beyond her family history when she took the position the following year. Andra Gillespie, a professor at Emory University in Atlanta, said King could hark back to her father's legacy, but that she was going to have to "redefine" it. Gillespie also stated that King would have to "figure out a way to push that legacy forward so we don't perpetuate a stagnant, chauvinistic civil rights agenda."

Despite her excitement being "high", King noticed the SCLC's board of directors had started "ignoring" suggestions she made to "revitalize" the organization. King said that she had made suggestions to the SCLC about how the presidency might operate in October 2010, but was not contacted formally until January, three months later. She stated that she felt "disrespect" by the three months in between her suggestions to the organization and their response. Despite this, she said that she would continue to "pray for them to move in a positive direction". On October 1, 2010, she led a prayer to an audience of around 200 people that had come to pray for healing and reconciliation of the Southern Christian Leadership Conference. Through prayer, King said, they would "seek to destroy the work of the enemy." King called the SCLC preparing to hold two separate conventions "an unfortunate turn of events." In January 2011, three months after making the plea, she declined to be SCLC's president. While in Birmingham, Alabama on August 11, 2014 for the national convention of the Southern Christian Leadership Conference, King endorsed having the 2016 Democratic National Convention be held in Birmingham, reasoning the "golden anniversary of civil rights events throughout the south and Birmingham in particular offers added significance" to it being held there.

Legal issues

King and her brother Martin Luther King III accused their brother Dexter of having disengaged them from decisions and shareholder meetings. They alleged that their brother had done this since 2004. On October 12, 2009, the dispute was settled out of court. The King siblings spent the entire day of October 12 locked away. The purpose of the lockdown was for the three to settle on a deal. Following the completing of their meeting, Bernice and her brother Martin said outside the Fulton County Courthouse that the results of the settlement seemed positive.

Book deal

Bernice King and Martin also opposed the giving up of photographs, personal letters and papers of their mother to a biographer. Their brother Dexter asked a judge to force them to comply. The biographer, Ms. Reynolds, met Coretta Scott King in 1972 and said that the widow had asked for her to write a follow up to her 1969 memoir. King and her brother's lawyer stated that their mother had changed her mind about the biography citing Mrs. King's apparent disapproval of Reynolds's writing style. A judge ordered the Kings to appear in court on October 14, 2008. David J. Garrow, biographer of King's father, said that it was "sad and pathetic to see the three of them behaving in this self-destructive way.”

By September 2009, the book deal was defunct and a judge ordered the three siblings to have a meeting. On September 14, King and her brother Martin sat through court motions, testimony and proceedings for more than 13 hours. In a separate hearing, Dexter Scott King's attorney Lin Wood argued that Bernice King willingly ignored a court order. He reasoned this because Bernice did not reveal the contents of the safe deposit box.

Wood also said King's brother Martin and one of Bernice's lawyers, who was no longer on the case, was aware of the letters and refused to reveal them. Bernice's attorney Charles Mathis said she "did not conceal anything" and said "She thought she was doing what she was supposed to do when she told her first lawyer. There was not an intentional failure to disclose."

The next day, Dexter Scott King's lawyers contended that Bernice was legally compelled to turn the letters over to Dexter, but ignored the order. Dexter's attorney Wood said "Regardless of what your last name is, if you have willfully withheld then you must suffer the consequences." Wood noted that Bernice denied the existence of the safety deposit box several times while under oath, which she said she found after the death of her sister Yolanda, who once owned it.

Mishandling of memorabilia

On August 28, 2013, the fiftieth anniversary of the March on Washington, the King estate filed a lawsuit against the King Center alleging that it had been careless with its handling of Martin Luther King, Jr. memorabilia. The lawsuit also claimed that attempts to resolve the issue with King Center CEO Bernice King have failed and that there had been a "total breakdown in communication and transparency." The King estate sent a 30-day notice to the Center in August 10, 2013. It notified the center that the licensing agreement for the King memorabilia was being terminated and that the center could avoid this by placing Bernice King on administrative leave and pulling Andrew Young and Alveda King from the board. According to the estate, Alveda King tried to "impede" the audit.The estate sought a court order barring the center from using the memorabilia after the license expired.

Bernice King announced in a statement on January 22, 2015 that the estate of her father, run by her brothers, had voluntarily dropped the lawsuit. She said the King Center's positions on its legal rights were vindicated by the estate's dropping of the lawsuit and that the action was a sign that the siblings' feud was on the road to reconciliation.

Belafonte documents

Harry Belafonte filed a lawsuit in October 2013, where he asked to be declared the owner of three documents given to him by the Kings and for their daughter Bernice King to be barred permanently from trying to claim ownership. The documents are Martin Luther King, Jr.'s "Casualties of the War in Vietnam", which Belafonte stated he had been in possession of since 1967, the undelivered "Memphis Speech" found in Martin Luther King's pocket after his assassination and a letter of condolence sent by President Lyndon B. Johnson to the then-newly widowed Coretta Scott King. The King estate and Bernice King disputed Belafonte's ownership of the documents when in 2008, he took the items to Sotheby's auction house in New York to be appraised and put up for sale. On April 11, 2014, Belafonte and the King estate said in a joint statement that a confidential compromise "resulted in Mr. Belafonte retaining possession of the documents."

Bible and Nobel Peace Prize family dispute

King's brothers Martin Luther King III and Dexter Scott King are interested in selling their father's Nobel Peace Prize and his Bible, which was later used by Barack Obama during his second presidential inauguration in 2013. Her brothers filed a lawsuit against her, complaining that she had "secreted and sequestered" the two items of interest in violation of a 1995 agreement that gives the brothers sole control of all of their father's property. King said in her defense, "I take this strong position for my father because Daddy is not here to say himself my Bible and medals are never to be sold."

Martin Luther King III was reported to have sent her, on January 20, 2014, the year's Martin Luther King, Jr. Day, a letter requesting a meeting to "discuss and vote on whether to offer for purchase at a private sale the Nobel Peace Prize and the King Bible.” On January 22, 2014, Dexter Scott and Martin Luther King III voted as board members of the King estate to pursue the sale of their father's award and Bible. The items had been in Bernice's care since the death of their mother, Coretta Scott King, in 2006. Bernice's position had support by members of the civil rights community, including C. T. Vivian, Andrew Young, and Joseph Lowery. King's cousin, Alveda King, was also supportive of Bernice. She said, "I am standing with her because I do believe we can't have a sale to the highest bidder with those family heirlooms."

On February 4, 2014, Bernice King stated that she would protest the sale of her father's Bible and Nobel Peace Prize and as a result, oppose her brothers. She said profiting from the Nobel Peace Prize's sale would be "spiritually violent" and "outright morally reprehensible." On February 6, 2014, King asked in a press conference in Ebenezer Baptist Church for the media to “refrain from grouping me with my brothers.” On February 19, 2014, a judge ordered her to give up the items, and had them kept temporarily in a safe deposit box under the name of the King estate. The judge will remain in possession of the key until the matter is settled.

The judge compared King's stance against the sale of her father's Bible and Nobel Peace Prize to Coca-Cola not wanting to sell its recipe, and later noted that he was not trying to trivialize the value of Martin Luther King, Jr.'s possessions by making the comparison. While King said that people had urged her to retain the Bible and Nobel Peace Prize and go to prison instead, she complied with the judge's order. On March 6, 2014, she asked her brothers to hold another vote and said she hoped one of them would change his mind. Despite facing an estrangement from her brothers, she hoped that she would be able to reconcile with them on the matter and said she is open to an out-of-court settlement. She appealed to anyone who would consider purchasing the bible and Nobel Peace Prize should they be put on sale to take the moral high road by leaving the "sacred in its sacred state." While she was given a deadline of turning them over by March 3, it was extended another five days, according to one of Bernice's lawyers.

King said that she would never support her brothers in selling the Nobel Peace Prize and Bible. She said that if her father was alive, he would say, "my Bible and my medal are never to be sold, not to an institution or even a person.” On March 10, 2014, King turned over the Nobel Peace Prize and Bible to Martin Luther King III for placement in a safety deposit box in a meeting that lasted five minutes. A lawyer involved in the dispute said few words were exchanged while Bernice surrendered the items. Eric Barnum, an attorney of Bernice King, said that his client "complied with the court order."

On March 14, 2014, Ron Gaither, one of Bernice King's lawyers, argued that William Hill, lawyer of Martin Luther King III and Dexter King, should not have any role in the case because of his involvement in the 2008 dispute between the King children. A judge appointed Hill as Special Master in 2008. Lawyers of Bernice King in a court hearing said that "Hill played a vital and substantial role in adjudicating a multitude of disputes that arose between the parties." The lawyers argued that this gave Hill an advantage while putting Bernice at a disadvantage. Hill's defense of himself was that he only had access to documents related to Coretta Scott King's estate and that Bernice King's lawyers were using a stalling tactic by trying to disqualify him. Fulton County Superior Court Judge Robert McBurney stated that he would soon issue a ruling on whether Hill would be disqualified.

McBurney granted Bernice King's lawyers request and disqualified Hill. A full hearing is scheduled to take place in late September.

Honors and awards

On December 14, 2007, at the State Bar of Georgia Headquarters, King was honored by the Georgia Alliance of African American Attorneys with the "Commitment to Community" award for her work as an attorney and community leader.

On October 7, 2009, King received an award for her "lifetime of service to women and other causes" at the National Coalition of 100 Black Women Convention.

On November 7, 2013, as part of the "Celebrating the Dream”, in commemoration of the 50th anniversary of the I Have a Dream speech done by her father, King received the Legend Award as a tribute to his legacy and after she delivered a speech.

Ebony magazine named her one of their Ten of Tomorrow future leaders of the black community.

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Gay rights

In 2005, she led a march to her father's gravesite and at the same time called out for a constitutional ban on gay marriage. She once said to LGBT supporters that her father did not take a bullet for same-sex marriage.

During Atlanta's 2012 Martin Luther King Jr. Day rally, King included LGBT people among the various groups who needed to come together to "fulfill her father’s legacy." When speaking at Brown University in 2013, King made statements regarding her beliefs about the origins of marriage: "I believe that the family was created and ordained first and foremost by God, that he instituted the marriage, and that's a law that he instituted and not... that we instituted" and about the origins of same-sex attraction: "I also don't believe everybody's born that way. I know some people have been violated. I know some people have unfortunately delved into it as an experiment". King has publicly stated that her father would have been against gay marriage.

However, by 2015, it appeared she had changed, as she issued a press release as CEO of the King Center supporting the Supreme Court's Same-Sex Marriage ruling.

Abortion

King is opposed to abortion. She believes that life begins and should be protected by law at conception. On August 22, 2013, King expressed her belief that "life begins in a woman’s womb.”

#03/28

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