#the lens of her position. she's his mother she's his queen

[thejakeformerlyknownasprince]

Animorphs and SIX

Hi there! Cates here! Unlike Bug/Sol, I have listened to SIX, and I unapologetically adore it. So I asked her if I could take a crack at the ask about an Animorphs/SIX fusion.

To me, the way to do a match up of SIX and Animorphs would be to match each Queen with a host. The whole point of SIX is that the queens’ stories/lives are reduced to “just one word in a stupid rhyme” “cause in history [they’re each] fixed as one of six and without [Henry VIII] they disappear.”

SIX interrogates the familiar way we’ve always told a certain story, basically forcing us as the audience to confront our own complicity in silencing these women by only seeing them through the lens of a powerful man. Catherine of Aragon is a bitter divorcee, Anne Boleyn is a homewrecker, Jane Seymour is an ideal wife and mother, Anne of Cleves is ugly, Catherine Howard is a sl€t, Catherine Parr is a caretaker. Their stories don’t matter. Their voices have been silenced. They aren’t allowed to say who they are, all that matters is the shell presented to the world. They are disenfranchised and largely powerless, and they’re entirely defined by the man who literally dictated if they lived or died. Sound like any characters we know?

For me, a quick pairing would go as follows:

Catherine of Aragon: Alloran. Life did NOT work out the way he planned. Has a strict moral code. Brought low from a position of power and fame. Stuck in his role for a loooonnngggg time.

Anne Boleyn: Eva. Seen as a means to an end by the Yeerks, is much cleverer and more politically savvy than they’re anticipating, refuses to apologize for who she is, calls the Yeerks on their hypocrisy and bullshit.

Jane Seymour: Taylor. Seemingly wants what’s being offered (power, community, wealth, safety), but it’s a mistake to view her as blindly devoted to the cause. She’s grabbing as much power as she can in a situation where she’s largely disenfranchised and overlooked. She may not always understand the Yeerk empire, but they’re the best game in town and she’s pouring herself into her work because at least they didn’t toss her aside.

Anne of Cleves: Jake. The marriage doesn’t last long, ultimately he ended up with all the power and advantages from the situation. It wasn’t pleasant for him, but he came out on top. And he outlives the Yeerk Empire.

Catherine Howard: Tom. He’s a naive teenager who gets dragged into an impossible situation because he has a crush. He’s passed from Yeerk to Yeerk, each one seemingly worse than the last. He dies young, never having a chance to give voice to his own story, a child whose childhood was stolen.

Catherine Parr: Karen. She’s dragged into things against her will, but her imprisonment is NOT her whole story. She’s not looking to make waves or overturn the status quo, but she has so much life to live beyond her brief period of enslavement to the Yeerks. No one is going to remember her, but she probably doesn’t care because she’s too busy living her life.

[ficretus]

Knightfall Joan of Arc theory summary

In this post I wanted to summarize all my previous theories into one post so it can be more presentable. Yeah, bit ironic I am making this post after series officially went into limbo state, but what can you do.

Jaune's Joan of Arc will be positive subversion of her tragic fate. Previous volumes seemingly reject Jaune's martyrdom and he subverts more successful aspects of Joan's life in favor of repeated failures. He will likely have a happy ending instead to compensate.

Jaune's Joan of Arc will subvert virginity of the original. He has normal romantic interests and is found to be attractive by several female characters. This not only subverts virginity of Joan of Arc, it also subverts the fact her male companions didn't feel any attraction towards her.

Jaune's love interest will likely be character based on Dauphin. While their relationship was platonic, when you remove virginal aspect of Joan of Arc character based on Dauphin makes the most sense. Her male companions don't stick out from each other in any way, while Dauphin was her one and only.

Cinder matches Dauphin the most out of all characters. Both characters were raised in hotel, both had terrible relationship with their mother figure,both were responsible for murder of their oppressor, both were abandoned by their father figure and declared an outlaw after said murder, both were taken in by powerful queen dowager, both were bound to said queen dowager (one through marriage, other through Grimm arm), both claimed the power of divine origin (if you look at title of king through the lens of Medieval Europe), both are missing the crown connected to that power, both are rivaled by younger enemy with rose emblem, both had initial success before continuously losing despite having an advantage, both have deep self worth issues, both are disliked by both their enemies and allies, etc.

Their age gap matches the characters relatively well. Dauphin was 9 years Joan's senior. While Cinder is likely only older than Jaune by 4-5 years, it is still suitable age gap. Joan was more mentally mature than Dauphin, which is reflected with Jaune being middle aged man in the body of a teen after Volume 9.

Connections between Joan of Arc story and Indecisive King. In universe fairy tale that is connected to Relic of Choice has a lot of shared elements with initial portion of Joan of Arc story (peasant woman that had her village destroyed seeks out King, King is burdened by his Crown, through visions of the future peasant woman is able to help the King where his advisors couldn't). Story ends with characters that seem connected to Jaune and Cinder getting married.

Any relationship other than enmity between them would be suitably heretical. Joan's involvement with Dauphin was hated by both enemies and allies alike (mostly Dauphin's advisors). Her enemies tried to discredit her by claiming she committed the heresy when she crowned Dauphin. Any redemption Cinder receives through Jaune would be seen as a heresy from both friends and foes. Act of giving a crown to the king connects this back to Indecisive King story.

Seemingly Cinderella element in the first encounter between Dauphin and Joan. This is connection thread between their respective primary allusions. Joan takes the role of a Prince, being savior figure to Dauphin's Cinderella. To test her abilities, Dauphin masked himself as common servant, despite all that, Joan still recognized him and ended up helping him.

Connection through Pyrrha. In Jaune's Joan of Arc story Pyrrha takes the role of Archangel Michael. Being both model warrior everyone aspires to be as well as taking the role of primary voice guiding Jaune (just like Michael was guiding voice for Joan). Joan and Dauphin were both connected through Michael as he was their patron saint. Pyrrha is negative subversion of that connection since it is through the murder. However, it drives the characters to interact with each other.

Power imbalance. Dauphin was King, Joan was peasant girl. There is a similar power imbalance between Cinder and Jaune, one being Maiden (one of the most powerful beings in the verse) while other is mostly an average Huntsman. Power imbalance is exacerbated by the fact Cinder refuses to acknowledge Jaune in any way and actively mocks him for thinking he can challenge her.

Massive plot implications. Encounter between Dauphin and Joan turned the tide of Hundred Years' War. Jaune's pairing should have similarly large impact on the world and Cinder's redemption fits that bill.

Timeline theory

Main tags: Jaune as Joan of Arc and Cinder as Dauphin

Those were the main points I wanted to add here. Feel free to comment if you feel like I missed something or you have your own interpretations.

[mononijikayu]

patriarchal butchery against women: history and rhaenyra

‘some accounts say it was ser alfred broome who had hold of her arm, others name the two toms, tanglebeard the father and tangletongue the son. ser marston waters stood witness as well, clad in a white cloak, for king aegon had named him to his kingsguard for his valor. yet neither waters nor any of the other knights and lords present in the yard spoke a word of protest as king aegon ii delivered his half=sister to his dragon.

sunfyre, it is said, did not seem at first to take any interest in the offering, until broome pricked the queen’s breast with his dagger. the smell of blood roused the dragon, who sniffed at her grace, then bathed her in a blast of flame, so suddenly that ser alfred’s cloak caught fire as he leapt away. rhaenyra targaryen had time to raise her head toward the sky and shriek out one last curse upon her half-brother before sunfyre’s jaws closed round her, tearing off her arm and shoulder.'

– rhaenyra overthrown; fire and blood

the profound horror evoked by the tragic demise of rhaenyra targaryen defies comprehension, leaving a profound impact on my emotions. the series of events surrounding her death is almost unimaginable, a harrowing sequence that eludes full understanding. the manner in which she was forcibly restrained, her young son is subdued away from her, bespeaks a brutality beyond words. her trusted allies' betrayal, the seemingly noble and upright men remaining silent witnesses, and the heart-wrenching scene of rhaenyra's final moments, held before a dragon, paints a tableau of unfathomable cruelty.

even when the dragon hesitated to devour her entirely, the violence escalated to such an extent that her wounds bleed profusely, eventually piquing the dragon's interest. the collective gaze fixed on the gruesome sight as the dragon immolated and consumed her, her helpless son held in the grip of men, forced to bear witness to his mother's horrific end.

the entirety of this scene is an unsettling dissonance, a collage of terror that leads one to question whether such a grisly fate could have truly befallen women. the spectacle of violence inflicted with such vehemence seems almost inconceivable when directed towards women. that  all of it is a fraction of grrm’s own imagination. unfortunately, the veracity of this account cannot be denied. numerous women throughout both ancient and medieval epochs have been subjected to the barbaric act of execution for various motives.

upon delving into historical accounts, one is confronted with a cathartic realization that this violence appears to be a recurring toll exacted upon women who dared to seek autonomy and agency in their respective eras, regardless of the epoch in question. it is a recurring and undeniable theme, wherein women are invariably thrust into a vortex of unremitting violence, an undeniable and tragic consequence of their aspirations for a more empowered existence. a recurring theme which of course stems from the echoes of patriarchal control–which still continues to this day.

in my previous writings concerning patriarchy and its implications on women's agency, we delve into the prevailing belief held by men throughout history that asserts their innate and superior importance within the community. when viewed through this lens, a multitude of factors emerge to elucidate the systematic erosion of women's authority and agency.

within this context, the fragility inherent in men's perspectives becomes evident, not only in their perception of the external world but also in their self-concept. examining the methods they have historically employed to consolidate exclusive control over authority and agency across the diverse tapestry of human society reveals an underlying fear of losing their dominant position.

patriarchy, deeply ingrained in societal structures, has perpetuated a paradigm where men's inherent superiority has been upheld as an enduring truth. this belief has been reinforced over generations, giving rise to the marginalization and subjugation of women across various cultural and historical contexts. the tenacious grip of patriarchy on social norms and power dynamics has led to the disempowerment of women, often limiting their roles to subservient positions and stripping them of agency.

as we analyze history, we discern that men's efforts to maintain sole authority and agency have been driven by a sense of vulnerability, revealing the delicate nature of their perspectives. the fear of relinquishing control over societal institutions and structures creates a palpable tension that spurs them to employ various mechanisms to safeguard their position. this apprehension stems from the realization that a shift towards a more equitable distribution of authority might lead to a loss of the privileges they have historically enjoyed.

the historical trajectory of men's actions underscores the lengths to which they have gone to preserve their perceived dominance. the mechanisms include the suppression of women's voices, relegating them to roles that reinforce traditional gender norms, and employing socio-cultural constructs that serve to legitimize their position of power. these actions, while aimed at asserting authority, reflect a deep-seated anxiety about the potential consequences of a more inclusive and egalitarian society.

according to jacquelyne campbell in 'misogyny and homicide of women', the fear of women emerged during the primitive times, when the mystery of conception and birth remained an unexplained part of human experience. throughout time, they found a way to cope and that is by trying to establish religious and societal efforts to make that facet of womanhood be a basis for the depreciation of female importance—leading to the subjugation of the female sex.

this then became the foundation of early greek that linked intellectualism, nature and power as inherently traditionally male; a concept which has been spoken in my earlier writings about patriarchal origins. it is because of this established ‘tradition’ that we now then see how this touched men’s imagination, they quickly accepted this concept to authority. 

we find this in the explicit nature of both karl marx and friedrich engel’s theories that encompass the thoughts, "first oppressor–oppressed relation, the foundation of all other class and property relations'', which fundamentally means that the idea of an oppressor and the oppressed creates the effect social dynamics of those who have power and those who are deprived of it. the powerful controls and dominates the communities they dwell in terms of social hierarchies, class divisions, wealth, property and ownership patterns.

within the context we have, jacquelyne campbell means to explain that women are essentially being forced into these dynamics because of men’s insecurities driving them into laying the groundwork that prevents women from getting out of these social dynamics that were now designed to be occupied by men for men. as such, men would not have to fear their security being challenged by any sort of self-actualization of women and their own ambition.

just as much, the growth of machismo as a main theme of how men should behave and be in a patriarchal society becomes heavily cemented throughout time. machismo being ingrained in the system cements a way of life that is according to the text, ‘exalts strength and power, demands competition with and superiority over other men, glorifies violence, emphasizes virility, despises gentleness and expressing any emotion except anger and rage, and rigidly defines women as property, sexual objects, and subjects of male domination.’

and because of this growth of machismo and patriarchy side by side, misogyny becomes extremely violent and uncontrollable. because as we mentioned, men hate feeling deprived of authority and agency, even the mere feeling of losing it drives them crazy. or as one of the sources within the text surmises, ‘violence may be the most appropriate way to protect one’s honor, to show courage or conceal fear, especially fear of revealing weakness.’

female activists later coined the term ‘gynocide’ as part of the umbrella of systematic gender specific slaughter directed towards women. gyno is referring to women or females and cide to kill or cut. gynocide as defined by andrea dworkin is ‘the systematic crippling and/or killing of women by men.’ – meaning, that men have for generations created a system by which punishes or even slaughters women if they do not adhere to the status quo that is set by a patriarchal society that does not make room for women to have any sense of equity in the community or agency as a member of community.

this is exactly what happened to rhaenyra, to many other women in the narrative of power. they became victims of men’s uncontrollable fear of not having agency, because women were being given and taking their agency. women taking up space in a male dominated society and making something of their own felt like a threat to the order of things. hence, that anger and that fear that a woman deposes of that system as a whole in one full sweep. we have various women we can lay their own lives and tragedy akin to rhaenyra and her experience of such violence in the system. 

one example of gynocide during this era was witch-burning, echoing rhaenyra's fiery demise. this tragedy befell countless women across ancient and medieval societies. the european witch hunts, spanning the late middle ages to the early modern era (15th to 18th centuries), stand as stark evidence. myriad individuals, predominantly women, faced accusations of witchcraft, culminating in trials, incarceration, and execution.

though not all accused witches suffered immolation, burning became a prevailing method of administering punishment to those found guilty of practicing witchcraft. these accusations and trials often derived from superstitions, fear, religious dogma, and societal tensions, rather than tangible evidence of sorcery. much of this bias, which unjustly targeted women, aligns with the gender-based paradigms discussed earlier.

the victims of these trials were usually marginalized figures—widows, elderly women, the impoverished, and those straying from societal norms. pinpointing an exact count of women immolated as witches varies by locale and era. nonetheless, estimates indicate that tens of thousands, including a considerable number of women, lost their lives as a consequence of these witchcraft accusations.

consider margaret aitken, emblematic of the injustices faced. amid the great scottish witch hunt of 1597 during james vi's reign, a period notorious for his treatise against witches linking them with 'ungodliness and the devil,' margaret faced judgment as a witch. coerced by torture and fear, she implicated other women as witches. driven by the dread of retribution from men, margaret unwittingly endangered fellow innocent women, leading to their agonizing execution by immolation. subsequently, margaret herself met the same fate, her coerced words turned against her despite their origin in fear and violence at the hands of men.

a parallel to rhaenyra's mutilation and demise emerges in the suffering of olympias, mother of alexander the great. olympias wielded agency not only as a woman but also in safeguarding her son's rule. mirroring male tactics, she employed violence to secure her interests. as she comprehended her grandson's impending loss of crown and life, olympias took action. thwarted by cassander, once an ally of alexander, who wrested power and orchestrated her defeat.

the steadfast loyalty of alexander's soldiers spared her mutilation, prompting cassander to manipulate those with resentment towards olympias. this culminated in her brutal stoning to death, along with the denial of burial rights. cassander's power consolidation entailed not just olympias' demise, but also the deaths of alexander the great's wife and child—individuals olympias sought to protect.

similarly, hypatia of alexandria, a revered philosopher renowned for her intellect, encountered a parallel fate to rhaenyra. her demise bore shocking brutality. entrapped and stripped, hypatia endured a savage mutilation orchestrated by men threatened by her influence. her eyes gouged, her body dismembered, and her remains desecrated through public display and burning. this atrocity emerged from fears that hypatia's reasoning and wisdom posed a challenge to power structures. her ability to engage with influential figures frustrated those seeking to maintain control, construing her intellect as an obstruction.

such stories, both historical and fictional, resonate with rhaenyra's tragic narrative, illustrating the pervasive patterns of violence and suppression that women have endured throughout history. much like rhaenyra's plight, these stories emerged from the grip of patriarchy that tightly held societies, coercing them to conform or face dire consequences. women often bore the brunt of this challenge, defying norms and striving for a chance at a life beyond being a mere historical footnote. their struggles were driven by the desire to seize agency, to transcend the constraints of their time.

these brave women dared to challenge a system that sought to confine them. they yearned for lives that extended beyond the shadows, desiring recognition and power that was so often denied to them. tragically, their aspirations were often met with brutal resistance, as men, threatened by the perceived erosion of their authority, resorted to oppressive tactics to maintain their control. this underpins the somber essence of women's enduring struggles – a tale that finds its origins in the disheartening attempts to curtail their rights.

these narratives, spanning diverse eras and cultures, intertwine with rhaenyra's story, reinforcing the unfortunate reality that the echoes of history often reverberate in similar patterns. while rhaenyra's narrative is a work of fiction, it continues to encapsulates the essence of the broader theme that resonates through the ages: the fight for agency, equality, and freedom, against the backdrop of entrenched gender biases. the memory lingers of the patriarchal butchery against women and we are still as many before us have, remember the harmony and the tune and proceed to remember and to fight against it.

[lemonhemlock]

What r ur thoughts on jace/baela and luke/rhaena

I've talked more about my feelings on Jace and Luke here. My issue with these pairings is that Baela & Rhaena are basically subsumed within Rhaenyra's abusive takeover of Driftmark.

Jace and Luke are bastard children who know they are bastards, as well as everyone else around them. As the eldest child of the eldest child, Baela is the one who should inherit Driftmark, even by Andal law. If Baela is unable, for some reason, to carry on her duties as Lady of Driftmark, the seat passes to Rhaena.

Rhaenyra inserts herself in the line of succession by placing Luke as the ruling lord and relegating Rhaena to the position of wife. She takes Rhaena's inheritance and gives it to Luke instead. I would have a problem with that, personally. Wouldn't you? Wouldn't anyone?

Black stans refuse to view this relationship through the lens of feudalism and patriarchy. Rhaena's power in Driftmark is dependent on the goodwill of her husband and how well they get along. If Rhaena dies in childbirth or by some illness, Luke can marry whomever else and place his non-Velaryon children on the seat of House Velaryon.

Baela & Rhaena also have many Velaryon relatives disgruntled with this arrangement. In the books, Rhaenyra orders Daemon to murder Vaemond and feeds him to her dragon. Viserys then orders the tongues of other additional five Velaryon cousins removed. How do Baela and Rhaena accommodate that very brutal abuse of power within their betrothals to the two people for whose benefit this abuse occurs?

Very prevalent is the notion that they have the potential to become two loving, respectful relationships. However, an honest appraisal of these pairings shouldn't seek to sweep these circumstances under the rug. It's a very valid source of conflict.

Another gripe of mine is that neither Jace, nor Luke, seem preoccupied in any way with the girls' actual feelings on the matter. They should be aware that this outcome is unfair for them, yet they have no reaction other than being pleased to be betrothed. This may be due to screen time limitation or it may say something damning of their characters. We will see if this develops somehow in S2 with Jace. He is fighting in an actual war for his mother's inheritance, yet he was/is willing to deny his future wife's sister her own claim on her inheritance?

I'm not saying that Jace/Baela and Luke/Rhaena wouldn't have personalities that would mesh or that, on a personal level, they wouldn't get along, but we couldn't and shouldn't divorce their relationships from this socio-political context that affects all of them directly.

A student of the Jace/Baela & Luke/Rhaena dynamics should, therefore, pose the following questions, when regarding these pairings. Are the girls content with this arrangement? Why? If not, how do they manifest their disgruntlement? Both of them seemed very willing to side with Rhaenyra; Baela even wants to fight on dragonback for her. Why?

You might say that Baela gains an advantage from this whole exchange, because she gets to become Queen at some point. Is future queenship for Baela a fair price to pay for denying Rhaena's status as an heiress? It would have been fair and lawful for Baela to become Queen AND for Rhaena to inherit Driftmark. Instead, Rhaena cedes a considerable amount of power in order to cover up a lie.

I have also seen the argument that, at least in this situation, Rhaena "gets something". If Baela inherited Driftmark, she would get "nothing." But how true is that? Rhaena is the daughter of Daemon Targaryen and Laena Velaryon, not some random nobody. She can make a good match for herself in the marriage market, REGARDLESS of what Baela does or does not do. Rhaena will inevitably marry anyway and became a wife. How is that different from being Luke's wife? It's the same position with the same amount of privileges. My point is that Rhaena could have become Driftmark's ruling lady and now she is consigned to consort. Which she would have become anyway, albeit for a different man.

[the-far-bright-center]

Yes, totally agreed. There are plenty of compelling in-story reasons for Padme's choices and actions, though I also want to point out that the whole 'but they're politically incompatible!!1' claim that so many of the detractors make is missing the point.

I’ve said it before, but in my understanding, Anakin and Padme are meant to embody the Jungian/alchemical concept of the ‘Union of Opposites’. This is apparent not only in their respective origins (water world/desert planet, slave boy/child queen, etc), but also in almost all of the visual imagery associated with them (fire/water, dark/light, etc).

One of the most overtly symbolic shots in AotC is the moment when Anakin is meditating on Naboo, and the sun is breaking through the clouds to form a 'yin/yang' symbol:

To me, this sums up the entire interlude on Naboo. It shows that for Anakin, despite the inner turmoil he is experiencing (the nightmares about his mother), being in Padme's presence on her homeworld is calming and soothing to him, and helps him find the balance that so often eludes him elsewhere. And it alludes to what OP mentioned—that despite Padme's ongoing anxiety and worries for the future, she can be herself in Anakin's presence in a way she cannot be in any other aspect of her life.

The yin/yang imagery is just one illustration of how Anakin and Padme's ‘opposite’ nature does not mean that they are inherently incompatible—on the contrary. They are meant to be together. They need each other. On a symbolic level, they each represent two aspects of galactic rule which are ideally supposed to be in balance (the peacekeeping /defence side and the democratic, truth-speaking side). Of course, we see that the galaxy as a whole is thrown drastically out of balance by Palpatine’s machinations—Anakin’s fall, along with the Fall of the Republic and the ensuing Dark Times, illustrate the devastating result of this.

Anidala is a forbidden love story that seemingly ends in tragedy, but which is ultimately vindicated by the result of said forbidden union...aka by the love of Luke their son. They are not inherently incompatible, nor are they inherently dysfunctional. Rather they are torn apart because the galaxy itself is being torn apart.

That's why it's so important to view RotJ—not RotS—as the real resolution of their story. By acting in *defense* of his son (aka acting in the manner of protector and defender as he and the Jedi as a whole were always supposed to), Anakin returns to his True Self, and brings balance to both the Force as well as to these two long-sundered aspects of the galaxy. And with his dying breath he declares that those who love him ‘were RIGHT’ about him. He acknowledges this long-suppressed Truth (’there is good in him, I know, there’s still…’), and in doing so, symbolically joins himself with his beloved Padme once more.

The Union of Opposites is the ideal and intended outcome of the alchemical progression, aka the magnum opus….which is what the PT and OT form together. 

Anidala is my ultimate romance because their relationship is at once deeply personal and yet also mythic and larger than life. Cosmic, even. And since I don't view them solely through the lens of 'realism' like the majority of fandom seems to, I also hold a MUCH more positive view of them than most fans do.

Seriously, the love story from Attack of the Clones is weird because Portman and Christensen actually do have chemistry, and Anakin’s obsession with Padme really shines through in Christensen’s performance, but in all the deep romantic scenes Padme just screams apprehension and uncertainty.

The scene in the fields is probably the best of their chemistry. They’re just enjoying being in each other’s company, laughing and joking-

Huh. 

You know, maybe that’s what Padme sees in Anakin. She just enjoys his company. Every time he brings up romance, tries to flirt, her mind goes to consequences, like a good politician’s should. But in the moment, where there’s no romantic declarations from Anakin, she just lets herself enjoy it.

Maybe the reason why she falls for him is because her relationship with him is just so simple. Everyone else is clouded in layers of politics. Even Jar-Jar is the representative of another allied civilization. 

To Anakin, she’s not a Queen or a Senator, she’s just the beautiful, kind girl who walked into his shop one day. 

Okay, fuck, that’s genuinely compelling.

[natromanxoff]

Queen + Adam Lambert live at the Rogers Arena in Vancouver, Canada - June 28, 2014

(x)

• "Don't Stop Me Now" is once again excluded from the setlist.

• "Another One Bites the Dust" does not include the usual call-and-response with the audience.

• The giant Q backdrop does not descend before "Seven Seas of Rhye" unlike previous concerts.

• Adam did not wear the fringed sleeves during "Killer Queen" and "Somebody to Love" as they were snagged by a stage prop, forcing him to remove it.

• Roger kisses Adam's hand after "Under Pressure".

• Brian plays peek-a-boo with Adam during "Tie Your Mother Down".

Fan Stories

“I was fortunate to have rented a condo directly across the street from the arena and had convinced my good friend, Jody, to come with me. She is a huge Queen fan but, thanks to my small obsession, was also familiar with Adam Lambert. And since I had dragged her all the way to Phoenix, Arizona in 2012 to see Adam perform live, she was fairly certain that he could, in his own style, handle the difficult role that Mr. Mercury’s music presented. I am not even going to repeat the obvious here- that every blogger and journalist feel the need to state, there is only one, yadda, yadda, yadda. No shit. We were there for the music of Queen and the charismatic performance of Adam Lambert (with his own fierce vocal range), as were the hordes of other concert goers. Although it had been pouring rain, for most of the day, the skies were clear and the sun was smiling warm on the long lineups waiting to get into the arena. The concert appeared to be sold out. Instead of selling tickets people were calling out to see who had tickets to buy. This was further confirmed once in the arena. It was full to the rafters, not a single seat was open around me. We had upgraded our tickets to the 2nd row, seat 1 and 2 and were positioned left of stage centre. Wonderful seats for live viewing but not necessarily great for photos without a proper lens due to the angle and lighting. While the enthusiastic fella behind me was busy explaining the virtues of Mr. Lambert to his buds, strident Queen fans were the dominant force. Directly in front of me was an especially passionate Queen fan. He had seen Queen in Vancouver twice previously- 1978 and 1980. He not only knew every song but also the album they were first recorded on, in addition, to Freddie’s solo work. It was like getting a Queen history lesson. He was a lovely man with a generous spirit. I asked what he thought of Adam Lambert and he said although he wasn’t familar with him he trusted Brian May and Roger Taylor’s judgement. I figured it would be interesting to see what his opinions were after the show. There was excitement and the energy was palpable. As Adam sang the first notes of ‘Now I’m Here’ (written by Brian May) the crowd gasped and needed no further convincing. They were on their feet- standing, dancing and singing. The curtain lifted the crowd roared and my final night began. I would need to soak in every minute. Later in the evening as Brian May was about to sing ‘Love of My Life’ he encouraged the crowd to singalong if they knew the words. Well the arena came to life as everyone sang in harmony. (I’m no singer so I listened) Vancouver has some seriously good voices. Even Brian looked surprised. When a visual of Freddie appeared on the screen, to sing the final lines, it prompted a woman behind me to sob. Yup, Queen does that to folks. Later, after a rousing drum solo and duel between Roger and his son, Rufus; Adam Lambert once again strutted the stage to join Roger to sing ‘Under Pressure’ and EVERYONE was into it. My friend, Jody said it was the best concert she’s ever been to. This was a common refrain heard around me. The ardent fan with the Queen history lesson even let me jump up to front row so I could take some pics. He was impressed with Adam and loving the show but was very disappointed that ‘Don’t Stop Me Now’ got dropped from the setlist for Vancouver. Not sure why they cut that short, perhaps they were running over. I also noticed that there didn’t seem to be as much interaction with the VIPers as in the previous two shows. But overall the show was brilliant and Adam was phenomenal. Personal highlights for me, were Fat Bottomed Girls, I Want it All, Somebody to Love, Crazy Little Thing Called Love and my favourites- Love Kills and Who Wants to Live Forever -which Adam soars on.”

(x)

[chispas-and-broken-bindings]

When I was new to fandom I was bored by Dany and Jon story. Dany for me was typical fantasy heroine who was winning and getting everything and Jon has basically underdog story which wasn't that new. When I saw the so hyped boatsex I was like eh? I found Arya more interesting and Sansa started to grow on me. It's through jonsa I started admiring Jon and loving Sansa. Also through Sansa and jonsa fandom I realised Dany is a villain which is better than savior of world.

Hi nonny, well you were not alone in seeing Dany as a fantasy heroine (lots and lots and lots of people saw her this way). I suppose I’d disagree with the idea that she is typical...mainly because she isn’t the heroine, and her story is one fantastic inversion of the hero’s journey. I love Dany’s storyline for what it’s doing. Unfortunately, many people don’t see it. I also love Jon’s story, especially as this wonderful parallel to Dany’s, except where Dany’s experiences only heighten her sense of “specialness”, Jon’s experiences are constantly forcing him to see and even “live in” other people’s perspectives. Dany’s arc is about hubris and upholding this idea that she alone deserves unbridled power, while Jon’s is about humility and seeing the inherent value in other people’s lives. He pays dearly for his mistakes, especially when he tries to push his friends away and take on the burden of leadership alone (but that’s getting way ahead of what I want to talk about today). 

Almost immediately, Dany’s chapters are infused with the language of “specialness”. She is the “blood of the dragon”, she is the khaleesi, a princess, a queen...and almost immediately, Jon Snow is disabused about any such notions he may have had, even as a bastard. 

Jon stared sullenly at the smoke rising from the brazier, until Noye took him under the chin, thick fingers twisting his head around. "Look at me when I'm talking to you, boy."

Jon looked. The armorer had a chest like a keg of ale and a gut to match. His nose was flat and broad, and he always seemed in need of a shave. The left sleeve of his black wool tunic was fastened at the shoulder with a silver pin in the shape of a longsword. "Words won't make your mother a whore. She was what she was, and nothing Toad says can change that. You know, we have men on the Wall whose mothers were whores."

Not my mother, Jon thought stubbornly. He knew nothing of his mother; Eddard Stark would not talk of her. Yet he dreamed of her at times, so often that he could almost see her face. In his dreams, she was beautiful, and highborn, and her eyes were kind.

"You think you had it hard, being a high lord's bastard?" the armorer went on. "That boy Jeren is a septon's get, and Cotter Pyke is the baseborn son of a tavern wench. Now he commands Eastwatch by the Sea."

"I don't care," Jon said. "I don't care about them and I don't care about you or Thorne or Benjen Stark or any of it. I hate it here. It's too … it's cold."

"Yes. Cold and hard and mean, that's the Wall, and the men who walk it. Not like the stories your wet nurse told you. Well, piss on the stories and piss on your wet nurse. This is the way it is, and you're here for life, same as the rest of us." 

A Game of Thrones - Jon III

As soon as Jon arrives at the Wall, his uncle gives him the cold shoulder and goes so far as to verbally reprimand Jon for believing he’d get special favor for being Ned Stark’s son, and then Donal Noye also knocks him down a few more pegs, calling him boy and reminding him that he is no better than anyone else at the Wall. 

"Yes, life," Noye said. "A long life or a short one, it's up to you, Snow. The road you're walking, one of your brothers will slit your throat for you one night."

"They're not my brothers," Jon snapped. "They hate me because I'm better than they are."

"No. They hate you because you act like you're better than they are. They look at you and see a castle-bred bastard who thinks he's a lordling." The armorer leaned close. “You're no lordling. Remember that. You're a Snow, not a Stark. You're a bastard and a bully."

A Game of Thrones - Jon III

Two chapters later, Dany is a married woman and riding in Khal Drogo’s khalasar. While she is miserable at the start (and rightly so. She is sold and raped. I’m in no way pretending that Dany’s life doesn’t start out horrible. It’s far more horrible than Jon’s start to life), she is in a position of power for the first time ever, and lets just say she takes to it just fine. 

Jorah tells her about ghost grass (that passage deserves its own meta - the writing was on the wall from book one, people), and Dany doesn’t want to hear it: 

"I don't want to talk about that now," she said. "It's so beautiful here, I don't want to think about everything dying."

"As you will, Khaleesi," Ser Jorah said respectfully.

A Game of Thrones - Daenerys III

Jon doesn’t want to hear people calling his mother a whore = Tough luck kid, your mother was who she was. Face reality. 

Dany doesn’t want to hear about ghost grass murdering all life = conversation ends and Dany gets to enjoy the beautiful day without others spoiling it. 

"Wait here," Dany told Ser Jorah. "Tell them all to stay. Tell them I command it."

The knight smiled. Ser Jorah was not a handsome man. He had a neck and shoulders like a bull, and coarse black hair covered his arms and chest so thickly that there was none left for his head. Yet his smiles gave Dany comfort. "You are learning to talk like a queen, Daenerys."

"Not a queen," said Dany. "A khaleesi." She wheeled her horse about and galloped down the ridge alone.

The descent was steep and rocky, but Dany rode fearlessly, and the joy and the danger of it were a song in her heart. All her life Viserys had told her she was a princess, but not until she rode her silver had Daenerys Targaryen ever felt like one.

A Game of Thrones - Daenerys III

Their stories are inversions of each other from their very first pages in AGOT and it culminates in ADWD which is this wonderful deep dive into how these divergent viewpoints color their leadership styles. 

I don’t have time to go on and on about this, but I find Dany and Jon’s stories fascinating and I love them as foils. They just don’t make any sense from a shipping perspective. 

That being said, for the show, I totally bought into the pol!jon theory. That was the only thing that made season 7 fit any kind of narrative sense, and with that lens I didn’t mind the season or the boat sex scene, because I thought the lack of chemistry was the point. LOL. I’m a clown. 

However you came to Jonsa, I’m glad you did! I agree. Dany makes a much more interesting villain than she does a heroine. We don’t need any more white savior stories. Blech. 

[astrognossienne]

scandalous icon: maría félix - an analysis

“I am a woman with a heart of a man.” - María Félix

Another personal favourite of mine here. She was known as “La Doña”. She was the inspiration for the classic French song “Je l’aime a mourir”. One of the biggest stars and “the most beautiful face” of the Golden Age of Mexican Cinema, María Félix inspired many, not only because of her beauty but also because of her fierce, strong character, her cold and haughty personality, her tall and proud gait and the disdain of her raised eyebrow, traits that led her to be considered the first Mexican “femme fatale”. A true Aries, she played roles which challenged the definition of traditional femininity. Due to her beauty, popularity, and distinctive voice, she served as a muse to many artists of the day, including artist Diego Rivera, writer Octavio Paz, and the many fashion houses who dressed her, including jeweler Cartier. Legend has it that she was discovered one day while walking down the streets of Mexico City. She was given the opportunity to go to Hollywood and meet with director Cecil B. DeMille, but she rejected any movie offers she got from America. Had she decided to go to Hollywood and crossover to Anglo audiences like her contemporaries Dolores del Río and Lupe Vélez, she would have been bigger than them both, since she naturally possessed the best of both worlds: she had the majesty, regal bearing, glamour, beauty, and class of del Río, as well as the ego, confidence, sex positivity, willfulness, bravery, fire, and authenticity of Vélez. She didn’t need Hollywood’s help to become a star. Must be that Cancer dominance shining through. However, staying true to her roots and who she was, she preferred instead to stay in her beloved Mexico and become the timeless icon that she is. And she did it her way.

María Félix, according to astrotheme, was an Aries sun and Virgo moon. She was born María de los Ángeles Félix Güereña in Álamos, Sonora to a military officer and his wife. Her father was an imperious dictator over his middle-class household. A classic macho who hid his emotions, he beat his sons and ignored his daughters. Her mother, Josefina Guereña, bore 16 children, of which 12 survived. María was the ninth. She was extremely close to her brother Pablo, so much so that her mother suspected that it might be incestual. So she separated them, sending Pablo away to military school and relocating to Guadalajara. By the age of 17, Félix’s incredible beauty started attracting a lot of attention, and she won the crowned the Beauty Queen at the University of Guadalajara. Around the same time, Maria Felix met her first husband Enrique Alvarez Alatorre, a cosmetics salesman for Max Factor. In 1931, after a brief whirlwind romance, they married. Four years later, at the age of 21, she gave birth to her only child, a son, Enrique, affectionately nicknamed Quique. Her husband was jealous and rough. Félix became unhappy, and after a brief affair with a college student, she obtained a divorce. Once she found her son wearing a white dress and necklace. Infuriated, she beat him unconscious. Álvarez retaliated by taking their son to Guadalajara. Years later Félix was able to get her son back with the help of her second husband, Agustín Lara.

Later, she moved to Mexico City where she briefly worked in a plastic surgeon’s office, modeling for the patients the beauty they could aspire to, though she supposedly received no surgery herself. She was discovered one day while walking down the streets of Mexico City by director Fernando Palacios. Her response: "When I want to, it will be through the big door."  Félix never studied acting in any formal sense, but improvised her own approach to movie parts and to the cameraman's lens. It was with her third film, Doña Barbara (1943), that Félix's star began to rise.Félix and de Fuentes filmed together another two films: La Mujer sin Alma (1944) and La Devoradora (1946). As María Félix herself said, "With these films, I became the number one enemy of the Mexican family morals." Somehow, I seduced the public, even those who criticize the conduct of my characters in the films. My legend began to take shape without moving a finger. The public imagination did everything for me.” She became so powerful that she exerted great influence over lighting, camera angles, scenario, wardrobe and other aspects of films usually reserved for producers and directors. Enamorada (1947) was a welcome relief from iconic melodramas. Félix made 18 films during the 1940s, and continued to work in Mexico until 1970, by which time she had completed 47 movies. In Europe and in Mexico during the 1950's, she worked with eminent European directors like Jean Renoir and Luis Buñuel and leading men like Gérard Philipe and Yves Montand. Her second marriage was to the famous Mexican composer Agustín Lara. Félix was a fan of Lara since her adolescence. Lara immortalized Félix in a number of songs, especially the famous theme "María Bonita", composed in Acapulco during their honeymoon. "María Bonita" would become one of Lara's most popular Lara songs. However, the relationship ended in 1947 due to Lara's jealousy. Félix said that Lara even tried to kill her in a fit of violent jealousy.

In 1953, when Félix returned to Mexico after her stay in Europe and Argentina, she was reunited with an "old enemy": the actor and singer Jorge Negrete. Unlike their difficult first meeting ten years ago on the set of El peñón de las ánimas, Félix found Negrete, in her own words: "surrendered to my feet", probably due to his chronic illness. After a brief romance, the couple married later that year. From the end of 1950 to the spring of 1954, Félix also had a passionate lesbian affair with Suzanne Baulé, better-known as Frede, who at the time ran the cabaret Le Carroll's on Rue de Ponthieu in Paris, and the two women lived together at the Hotel George-V. Félix and Frede's relationship was interrupted by Félix's marriage to Jorge Negrete. Negrete succumbed to his illness eleven months after their marriage, and Félix's appearance at his funeral, dressed in trousers, caused a huge scandal, which led Félix to take refuge in Europe. She returned to Paris to briefly rekindle her relationship with Frede. However, they would violently break-up for good in 1954, leading to a trial in which Félix wanted to take back jewellery she had given to Frede and accused her of theft. Félix lost her lawsuit, and Frede was acquitted and kept the jewellery. Her fourth marriage, was with the Romanian-born French banker Alexander Berger. Félix was married to Berger for 18 years. She tried becoming a mother again, but an accident during filming in 1957 caused Félix to lose the child. It was at this time that she built her famous home, La Casa de las Tortugas (The House of Turtles). Berger died in 1974 of lung cancer months after the death of her mother, which plunged her into a deep depression. Her last romantic relationship was the Russian-French painter Antoine Tzapoff. About him, Félix said: “I don't know if he's the man who has most loved me, but he's who has loved me better.”

She appeared once on screen with her contemporary Dolores del Río (with whom she felt no rivalry) in the film La Cucaracha in 1958. She collected fine antiques. She consorted with the rich and famous all her life. She was also a jewelry connoisseur and had an extensive jewelry collection, including the 41.37 carat , D-flawless Ashoka diamond. In 1968, she commissioned a serpent diamond necklace from Cartier Paris. The result was a completely articulated serpent made out of platinum and white gold and encrusted with 178.21 carats of diamonds. In 1975, she again asked Cartier to create a necklace for her, this time in the shape of two crocodiles. The two crocodile bodies were made of 524.9 grams of gold, one covered with 1,023 yellow diamonds, while the other was adorned with 1,060 circular cut emeralds. Later she sold most of her jewelry back to Cartier's. She also left a Rolls-Royce in Paris. King Farouk of Egypt allegedly offered her Nefertiti's crown for one night of love. She did a television series, “La Constitución” (1970). In her lifetime, she won three Ariel awards (the Mexican equivalent of the Oscars) for best actress. Félix was dressed by designers like Christian Dior, Givenchy, Yves Saint Laurent, Chanel, and Balenciaga and in 1984, was nominated in France and Italy as one of the world's best-dressed women. The House of Hermès designed extravagant creations just for her. In 1985, she won a lifetime achievement award and the Mexico City Prize. In 1996, she became the first Latin American woman to be made commandeur de l'ordre des arts et des lettres by the French government. Félix spent her later years moving between Paris, where she owned a racehorse stable, and Mexico City. She remained the subject of media interest, including a four-hour television programme. The unexpected death of her son Enrique from a heart attack in 1996 affected her greatly. After leaving an indelible mark in Latin American cinema, Maria Félix passed away in her sleep on on her 88th birthday, April 8th, 2002. Her remains were buried in her family’s tomb inside Mexico City.

Next, I’ll talk about another Latin film star who made waves in the industry: Taurus Anthony Quinn.

STATS

birthdate: April 8, 1914

major planets:

Sun: Aries

Moon: Virgo

Rising: Gemini

Mercury: Pisces

Venus: Taurus

Mars: Cancer

Midheaven: Pisces

Jupiter: Aquarius

Saturn: Gemini

Uranus: Aquarius

Neptune: Cancer

Pluto: Gemini

Overall personality snapshot: Whichever way she was, there will often be times when she wished she was doing the opposite. She wanted to throw caution to the wind and follow her creative impulses, yet habit, and her easily aroused sense of guilt, seem to demand that she live her life for others in the fulfilment of the endless duties that life seems to place in her path. This meant that she often find herself torn between the desire to be selfish and do her own thing, and the tug of duty and the worthy cause. Despite her natural modesty, she was in fact impatient to be where the action is, and to be in command of the show, because she usually had clear ideas of how things should be done. She could be self-effacing, disciplined and conventional yet also highly forthright, argumentative, judgmental and outspoken. Whatever her inward sense of inadequacy, she liked to be the one giving the orders, and expected to be obeyed (though she may protest too loudly to be convincing that this was not the case). She wanted everything and everyone to fit into well-defined roles and was likely to have strong likes and dislikes. Whilst this may put some people’s backs up, she soon gained others’ respect with her forthright, upfront manner and probably boisterous, and at times outrageous, sense of humour.

Her inner creativity caught fire in those areas where her natural self-assertion and penchant for being in charge married with her reliable, realistic, conscientious, dutiful and perfectionist approach to the work in hand. She was likely to be efficient and effective in whatever she set herself to do and could flourish in senior management and administration, though she found the earlier rungs of the ladder frustrating. Her strong powers of analysis enabled her to identify the most effective course of action in any situation, and when she got herself together she found that she had natural flair as an entrepreneur and organizer. Added to her strong need to make her mark and her natural qualities of leadership, this was a combination that would find itself at home in the armed services, or in any work that required strength of character and a desire to be of real service to society. As a creative artist she was the classic craftswoman, combining passion with sheer technical skill and mastery and an eye for detail. As she matured, her toughness and modesty could develop into a nobility of spirit inclining her to “little, nameless, unremembered acts of kindness and of love” which helped make the world a better place.

She was the most youthful-looking of the zodiac with veritable Peter Pan looks. She had neat, sharp facial features and a wiry frame. She was intuitive and artistic and, at times, over-sensitive. She could also be a little secretive. She had many levels. It really depended on her mood as to how well her thought processes operated. When it came to careers, she may have felt initially vague or confused about what she really wanted to do. She was eventually forced to give up her career of choice by events out of her control (due to her eventual aging). There was probably some element of self-sacrifice involved somewhere in her choice of career (the element of sacrifice being that she had to sacrifice being a crossing over to a wider audience in Hollywood in favor of holding true to herself and her Mexican roots). Her sometimes erratic behaviour depended on her mood. She tended to have very strong intuitions about things and generally felt optimistic about the future. This gave her faith in his ability to succeed, and she could be very impatient with those who gave up without at least trying. She showed strong imagination and originality, and felt that by using her intellect to create, analyze and develop new ideas, she was allowing herself to grow. Her mental abilities were likely to be the strongest and best expressed in the sciences, music and philanthropy. She was socially adept and enjoyed an extensive social life, although it may have operated on a fairly superficial level. Sometimes she may have found it difficult communicating effectively, and in such cases she relied on the facts to speak for themselves. Her attitudes and ideas tended to be on the conservative side, but they were profound and she was able to constructively develop and apply them. She was very serious about everything that gained her attention, although high nervous tension plunged her into periods of depression. At times, she could lack emotional warmth, preferring her life to be ordered and disciplined. When things didn’t go her way, she could fall into a bout of depression or feel very bitter and vindictive. Her sense of humour tended to be rather black and low-key.  

She belonged to a generation in which humanitarian ideals became extremely important, as well as the belief in absolute freedom for every individual. As a member of this generation, she came up with radical new ideas which she stubbornly followed. Knowledge was acknowledged as bringing freedom. As a member of this generation, she felt deep spiritual convictions, although she may not have seen herself as religious in the traditional sense of the word. She was part of an emotionally sensitive generation that was extremely conscious of the domestic environment and the atmosphere surrounding her home place and home country. In fact, she could be quite nostalgic about his homeland, religion and traditions, often seeing them in a romantic light. She felt a degree of escapism from everyday reality, and was very sensitive to the moods of those around her. She embodied all of these Cancer Neptunian ideals. As a Gemini Plutonian, she was mentally restless and willing to examine and change old doctrines, ideas and ways of thinking. As a member of this generation, she showed an enormous amount of mental vitality, originality and perception. Traditional customs and taboos were examined and rejected for newer and more original ways of doing things. As opportunities with education expanded, she questioned more and learned more. As a member of this generation, having more than one occupation at a time would not have been unusual to her.

Love/sex life: She was an easy-going lover who didn’t like to rush. She avoided the emotional extremes of other lovers because she was more practical and more inclined to concentrate on the pleasures of the body rather than the angst of her inner child. She was one of the sexiest lovers, a person who combined layers and layers of emotional complexity with a surface that was totally devoted to fun. By nature she was a quiet, conservative lover but her love of pleasure often got in the way of this cautious approach and brought her much more attention than she would like. Her appreciation of physical pleasure combined with her emotional sensitivity made her doubly dependent upon the person she loved. Material security was just as important as emotional security to her and she expected her lover to provide her with both. These high expectations not only limited her choice of partners, they placed her in a very vulnerable position if she made the wrong choice. Fortunately, she was a very practical lover, as well as an extremely cautious one, and she rarely found herself at a disadvantage for long.

minor asteroids and points:

North Node: Pisces

Lilith: Aries

Vertex: Scorpio

Fortune: Scorpio

East Point: Gemini

Her North Node in Pisces dictated that she needed to develop her emotions and overall sensitivity. She needed to try to be less critical and demanding of both herself and others. Her Lilith in Aries ensured that she was a woman who used sex as a weapon in her arsenal and wasn’t too subtle about it. Circumstances forced her into confrontation and having to wave her “freak flag” early on in life. She pioneered frank treatment of sexual desire and took it on and copped the criticism for it. Her Part of Fortune in Scorpio and Part of Spirit in Taurus dictated that that her destiny lay in cultivating ambition and power as she fearlessly delved into the unknown. She attempted to use her power wisely. Her joy was found by stripping away the outer layers of experiences and getting to the core. No plan or plot was too complex to use in her pursuit of happiness and success. Her soul’s purpose asked her to create and comfort for herself and those around her. She felt spiritual connections and the spark of the divine in the tangible things around her—what she could taste, touch, smell, see and hear. East Point in Gemini dictated that she was often insatiably curious and loved to collect little bits of (what seems to be useless) information and trivia. Her interests were quite varied, and she may have been somewhat scattered. Sometimes her curiosity could appear cold and callous as her level of objectivity was potentially high. There was usually an openness to learning in any situation. Vertex in Scorpio, 5th house dictated that she had a desire or continual need for feeling irresistible and irreplaceable on all levels of intimacy, whether spiritual, intellectual, emotional, or physical. From the fires of hell to the heights of heaven, the further and deeper the range of interaction she could experience with another the more fulfilling. She had a childlike orientation, in all of its manifestations, toward relationships on an internal level. That implicit trust, or perhaps naivete, that was instilled in our childhood persisted far into maturity. The concomitant explosions and occasional tantrums when these constructs are violated also accompany this position. She had a need for fun, creativity, and excitement in a committed relationship, no matter how many years it has endured. She often had deep fears, typical of children, of abandonment, as well as a need for universal acceptance, no matter how she acted, which she needed her partner to respect and nurture, rather than rebuke, especially in adulthood.

elemental dominance:

air

water

She was communicative, quick and mentally agile, and she liked to stir things up. She was likely a havoc-seeker on some level. She was oriented more toward thinking than feeling. She carried information and the seeds of ideas. Out of balance, she lived in her head and could be insensitive to the feelings of others. But at her best, she helped others form connections in all spheres of their daily lives. She had high sensitivity and elevation through feelings. Her heart and her emotions were her driving forces, and she couldn’t do anything on earth if she didn’t feel a strong effective charge. She needed to love in order to understand, and to feel in order to take action, which caused a certain vulnerability which she should (and often did) fight against. She was dynamic and passionate, with strong leadership ability.

modality dominance:

mutable

She wasn’t particularly interested in spearheading new ventures or dealing with the day-to-day challenges of organization and management. She excelled at performing tasks and producing outcomes. She was flexible and liked to finish things. Was also likely undependable, lacking in initiative, and disorganized. Had an itchy restlessness and an unwillingness to buckle down to the task at hand. Probably had a chronic inability to commit—to a job, a relationship, or even to a set of values.

house dominants:

11th

2nd

12th

Globally aware, she put emphasis on her friends and acquaintances, as well as the influence of groups and societies on her life. Her general hopes and aspirations revealed themselves, as well as how well she functioned as part of a system. This extended to how she manifested her creativity against the background of the community. The material side of life including money and finances, income and expenditure, and worldly goods was emphasized in her life. Also the areas of innate resources, such as her self-worth, feelings and emotions were paramount in her life. What she considered her personal security and what she desired was also paramount. She had great interest in the unconscious, and indulged in a lot of hidden and secret affairs. Her life was defined by seclusion and escapism. She had a certain mysticism and hidden sensitivity, as well as an intense need for privacy.

planet dominants:

Saturn

Mercury

Neptune

She believed in the fact that lessons in life were sometimes harsh, and structure and foundation was a great issue in her life, and she had to be taught through experience what she needed in order to grow. She paid attention to limitations she had and had to learn the rules of the game in this physical reality. She tended to have a practical, prudent outlook. She also likely held rigid beliefs. She was intelligent, mentally quick, and had excellent verbal acuity. She dealt in terms of logic and reasoning. It was likely that she was left-brained. She was restless, craved movement, newness, and the bright hope of undiscovered terrains. She was of a contemplative nature, particularly receptive to ambiances, places, and people. She gladly cultivated the art of letting go, and allowed the natural unfolding of events to construct her world. She followed her inspirations, for better or for worse.

sign dominants:

Gemini

Pisces

Cancer

She ventured out to see what else was there and seized upon new ideas that will expand their communities. Her innate curiosity kept her on the move. She used her rational, intellectual mind to explore and understand her personal world. She needed to answer the single burning question in her mind: why? This applied to most facets of her life, from the personal to the impersonal. This need to know sent her off to foreign countries, where her need to explore other cultures and traditions ranked high. She was changeable and often moody. This meant that she was often at odds with herself—the mind demanding one thing, the heart demanding the opposite. To someone else, this internal conflict often manifested as two very different people. She needed to explore her world through her emotions. She felt things so deeply that quite often she became a kind of psychic sponge, absorbing the emotions of people around her. As such, she gravitated toward the arts, in general, to theater and film specifically. She could be ambivalent and indecisive simply because she was so impressionable. She also tended to be moody because she felt the very height of joy and the utter depths of despair. Love and romance were essential for her. These fulfilled him emotionally, and she generally flourished within stable relationships. At first meeting, she seemed enigmatic, elusive. She needed roots, a place or even a state of mind that he could call her own. She needed a safe harbor, a refuge in which to retreat for solitude. She was generally gentle and kind, unless he was hurt. Then she could become vindictive and sharp-spoken. She was affectionate, passionate, and even possessive at times. She was intuitive and was perhaps even psychic. Experience flowed through her emotionally. She was often moody and always changeable; her interests and social circles shifted constantly. She was emotion distilled into its purest form.

Read more about her under the cut.

Doubtlessly the most famous Mexican movie star, María Félix created a larger-than-life character: herself. La Doña, as the star was known after the character of her 1943 movie Doña Bárbara, starred in 47 movies, most of them forgettable except for her presence in them. More a star than an actress, she constructed an image of a tough woman, a sort of one-liner she-male that went beyond the traditional role of Latin American women. Her marriage to Agustín Lara the most popular Latin composer from the 30s to the 60s, was a great event itself. Her fame went beyond Mexico to Latin America, Spain, France and Italy. She always refused to learn English, so she never acted in any English language movie. That's the main reason why her fame was related almost exclusively to Latin countries. After her last film, she was linked to a number of film projects, but never came back to the screen. Her last performance was on a Mexican historic soap opera, in 1970. (x)

[royalpain16]

PRINCE Charles is set to "live in a 'flat above the shop" as Buckingham Palace is thrown open to the public when he is king, it's been reported.

In a bid to radically overhaul the royal estate, the monarch will be left in less-than lavish living arrangements as the Palace is opened up to the public, it's been suggested.

Prince Charles is also planning to move the Duke and Duchess of Cambridge to Windsor Castle, because its position in the Heathrow flight path makes it "too noisy" for him.

It will be a property move that the Cambridges are said to want, according to a friend of the royals.

And there are talks that Balmoral could turn into a "museum" dedicated to the Queen as part of the property reshuffle.

As well as slimming down the monarchy, the "property question" is also on the "to do list," a source told the Mail on Sunday.

The source said: "The central point is: when the Queen is no longer here, how do you effectively spread two generations of the family across quite a large number of properties?

"The Prince of Wales strongly believes that these places have got to deliver something for the public beyond just being somewhere for members of the Royal Family to live.

"Everything is seen through the lens of the question: 'What value is this offering to the public?'

"Everybody recognises it makes no sense to run so many residences but if you give them up entirely you will never get them back when Prince George and the younger royals grow up and need somewhere to live."

Buckingham Palace, which is undergoing a ten-year, £369 million renovation, is set to be opened up for public access all year-round.

This means that the monarch's living quarters, which currently include 52 royal and guest bedrooms and 188 staff bedrooms, will be dramatically cut in Prince Charles' radical new change. 

A friend of Charles told the paper: "Despite what everybody thinks about him not wanting to live there, he will certainly have accommodation there – but it will be a much more modest flat-above-the-shop situation akin to that of the Prime Minister at Downing Street.

"Both the Prince and the Duchess of Cornwall are very practical and see that the reigning Monarch must live at Buckingham Palace, otherwise it would become like Hampton Court."

Charles official residency at Clarence House was at first going to be given to Harry - but plans changed after he and Meghan Markle quit the royal family and moved to California.

But a source added: "No one is terribly fond of Clarence House because it's still seen very much as the Queen Mother's place."

CROWNSIZE

Meanwhile in Scotland, there are talks that Balmoral may be opened up as a museum dedicated to the Queen once Charles takes the throne.

Balmoral - which is the Queen's favourite - is closed to the public in the summer, but under Charles, there is set to be far greater access to the royal grounds.

Just yesterday, the Queen today spoke publicly about Prince Philip for the first time since his death while in Scotland.

Her Majesty, 95, recalled the "many happy memories" she and her husband shared as she officially opened the new session of the Scottish parliament at Holyrood yesterday morning.

She told MSPs in the socially distanced debating chamber: “I have spoken before of my deep and abiding affection for this wonderful country, and of the many happy memories Prince Philip and I always held of our time here.

“It is often said that it is the people that make a place, and there are few places where this is truer than in Scotland, as we have seen in recent times.”

The Duke of Edinburgh, who died two months’ before his 100th birthday, had a number of connections to Scotland.

He was educated at Gordonstoun, which led to the Duke of Edinburgh award scheme, and took annual breaks in Balmoral with the Queen.

----The Sun Oct 3, 2021

[alilyamongroses]

Isn’t she just delightful?

Catherine of Aragon has one of the more fascinating media legacies of anyone in the Tudor period, not in terms of how her image has fluctuated over the years, but because of how notably it hasn’t. Other hardcore Catholics of the Henrician court are inevitably vilified in stories from Protestant perspectives - Thomas More, Cardinal Wolsey, Jane Seymour and above all else Mary I, to name a few. “Protestant perspectives” doesn’t just refer to reformation texts, it includes books from the perspective of Protestant figures; usually Anne Boleyn or Elizabeth I, and more recently Thomas Cromwell with Hilary Mantel’s Wolf Hall books. Despite her unwavering faith in both the Catholic Church and her own position, Catherine’s reputation has, up until the past twenty years or so, remained close to stellar; her marriage into the English monarchy at a young age did well to divorce her from her parent’s religious persecutions, and her death some fifteen years or so before her daughter took the throne kept her from being tarnished by association to Mary’s resurrection of medieval heresy laws.

As a Tudor queen, Catherine has largely gone down in history for her irreproachable conduct, even after that history began to tilt towards the side of a religion she opposed - she is known for her charity, her piety, and her belief in her husband’s good nature no matter how vile his behavior grew to be, even at the expense of her own self image. According to Chapuys (who in this case there is no reason to disbelieve) she went to her grave questioning wether Henry’s actions after their divorce was her fault, wondering wether, if she had given him what he wanted, he may not have felt the need to break from Rome, mistreat their daughter and execute two men - one a long term friend and one his own grandmother’s religious advisor. Catherine is a noble figure, she is a tragic figure, she is most of all a dignified figure, and in Tudor media she is always given at least a sympathetic nod if not a complex or three dimensional portrayal. 

The key phrase there, though, is as a Tudor queen. Whatever else she was, Catherine was decidedly not a modern woman, just like all of her female peers living five hundred years ago were decidedly not modern women; her unflinching religious beliefs, her many attempts at producing a male heir and her devotion to her marriage are admirable traits of a female noble of the sixteenth century, less so of a twenty first century wife or businesswoman. She was a product of her time, and modernized or semi modernized Tudor media’s attempts to portray her - specifically the brand of modern Tudor media that sets out to depict Anne and Henry’s relationship as one of Sexy High Romance - always end up turning Catherine into a misogynistic caricature of herself, historical legacy be damned. The blog anneboleynnovels describes it best:

“Catherine’s greatest hurdle has been not Protestant novels, but modernized ones. These are the one subgenre in which her character at best is severely degraded and at worst is completely unrecognizable. It’s not surprising that it should be like this — finding modern corollaries to Anne and Henry, whether in an office, a Hollywood mansion, or a high school, is doable. As for most of the people who surrounded them, while some some people are harder to wrench into modern poses than others, it’s relatively easy to cut and alter those characters to make them work better in a modern setting. Catherine, however, is completely lost here. She needs to exist, or else the central conflict disappears — but she simply doesn’t have a real modern equivalent, at least not in the kinds of societies that modernizers write about; her determination that God had put her in her position and that she had to safeguard her daughter’s legitimacy, and thus her inheritance, is impossible to convey fully, especially since Henry’s historical behavior — taking a presumed inheritance from Mary, forcibly separating the two women, and confining them in residences of his choosing — can’t be precisely replicated in a modern novel without making him at best a creep and at worst a criminal. In neither case would that Henry be an appealing love object for a modern Anne, so his behavior is inevitably made more standard — he’s simply a wealthy man divorcing his wife of twenty years, and instead of taking her settlement and moving on, his wife just refuses to let go.”

As the post on Catherine’s fictionalized history points out, attempts to judge her through a modern lens, particularly in stories that center around that grand, not-at-all-murderous love affair of Henry VIII and Anne Boleyn inevitably fail to produce a balanced assesment. Susan Bordo’s highly modernized study the Creation of Anne Boleyn treats her like a footnote at best and a self righteous fool at worst, while the Catherine of Suzannah Dunn’s The Queen of Subtleties is disgustingly nicknamed “Fat Cath” (stupid cow, how could she let herself go like that after six pregnancies?) and features its leading lady, another ahead-of-her-time portrayal of Anne Boleyn, going out of her way to condescendingly paint Catherine to the reader as vengeful and delusional. Anne of Hollywood and Anne and Henry present the worst portrayals, one a hideous, deliberately unsympathetic drug addict and the other a teenage psychotic forced on Henry by his father, leading her poor, brow beaten boyfriend by the hand.

That’s not to say it would be impossible to write a well rounded modern Catherine of Aragon, but most modernized Tudor novels simply don’t care to try and make her well rounded; she exists solely to be the convenient road block to Anne and a whitewashed Henry’s happiness, a flat example of the Hysterical Woman trope rather than a Queen, a mother, or a politician. It isn’t Anne Boleyn’s fault that this happens (she can’t exactly object) but this version of Catherine never fails to rear its ugly head in Tudor media that aims to portray Anne, literally or figuratively, as a “woman of the future.” Since that reading of Anne has gained momentum over the years, this Catherine inevitably does so too.

What makes the Spanish Princess so unbearable is how blatantly Emma Frost is trying, and egregiously failing, to flip the script on this. Whatever her personal dislike of Anne Boleyn, she is very obviously trying to take this fictitious version of Anne Boleyn that has sprung up over the past few decades - that of the rebellious, sexy, pseudo feminist Modern Woman™ - and apply it to Catherine of Aragon, who was neither rebellious, a feminist or, after six pregnancies, five infant deaths and a battle with heart cancer, all that sexy. The intimacy and very real affection she and Henry shared in the early years of their marriage is stilted and unemotional, replaced by an absurd number of sex scenes and a very out of place “warrior kween” nickname. It isn’t enough for Catherine to organize a massive military campaign and give a speech to an assembly of soldiers while heavily pregnant, real life accomplishments of hers which have gone largely unacknowledged - no, the Catherine of the Spanish Princess needs to literally fight in battle, pregnant belly armor and all, subtly implying that her many miscarriages were the result of her own behavior, never mind the fact that Henry’s later wives had miscarriages as well. The deeply devoted friends Catherine actually had, one of whom served her for decades and risked royal punishment to be with her on her deathbed, are either erased entirely or put into invented conflicts with her. Her relationship with the only one of her children that survived infancy is perverted into a cold, uncaring motherhood, marked by disappointment and a refusal to even hold her daughter, let alone personally teach her Latin, commission scholars to write books for her, and request those same scholars take charge of her education.

In place of all these details, the things that make the historically minded audience love Catherine in the first place, several sordid aspects of Anne Boleyn’s fictional representations are assigned to Frost’s Catherine of The Upside Down: the ~unnatural~ blowjobs and poorly designed French hoods, the general air of cattiness, the excessive nudity, the hatred of her daughter, the inability to sexually please her husband, and the weird sense of anger at all the women in her life all stand out as hallmarks of Anne Boleyn’s less flattering portrayals, but so too do the clear attempts to pander to a feminist audience and sell itself as new age and progressive.

The fouler examples of Catherine as a modern woman aren’t yet the prevalent perception of her; a gaggle of misguided twenty first century books isn’t enough to erase the near spotless reputation she’s maintained for half a millennium. But the Spanish Princess fails to depict a more positive modernization of Catherine because it’s lazy in the attempt - it sees the habit of trying to turn sixteenth century queens into anything but sixteenth century queens and tries to replicate it by taking a handful of theatrical trends and having their protagonist perform them. Those trends have been apart of Anne Boleyn’s portrayal in the media for so long it wouldn’t be that strange to see her acting that way on screen, no matter how historically inaccurate they may be, but to assign them to someone with such a vastly different public history as Catherine is just jarring. She wasn’t like that, nobody thinks she was like that, Tudor media has always known her as being not like that, and the result is something that’s confusing at best and outright offensive at worst. It’s not fun to watch, but it’s interesting to examine, broader context in mind.

(Also credit to @queenmarytudor for that image of Meg and Mary, and seriously, check out anneboleynnovels. They’re great.)

[undyingembers]

Ooh ok I must ask about the Len/Daeran Cinderella AU!

Ask me About my AU’s

Len/Dae Cinderella

This one pretty much takes place on Golarion. You got your tieflings, aasimars, elves, gods, demons, magic, what have you. It’s just the timing of events that play out differently.

Lenarius’s canon backstory plays out the same way. When he was born, his parents lost a lot of standing for birthing a tiefling child. He was kept away from society and ostracized his whole life.

One thing to note is that I have a background character who is relatively important to Lenarius’s canon backstory. In canon, the family managed to get the services of a tiefling cobbler for Lenarius. I still haven’t come up with a name for the guy, but he was one of the only people who showed Lenarius kindness. When it became apparent that the human staff and professionals that his family hired were not prepared (or willing) to make certain…accommodations for Lenarius’s unique physiology, they had to turn elsewhere for help.

So anyway, much like in my Phantom of the Opera AU, when Daeran’s parents died, Galfrey was made his guardian. She was hoping that Daeran might find a wife and rebuild the Arendae family by now. However, Daeran is in absolutely no rush to settle down and have kids. He’d much rather carouse and feast his way through life and kick up as many scandals as he can (idk if the Other is around in this version; I’m going to say no). The two of them fought a lot about this issue until one day, they agreed on a deal. Daeran would attend a grand ball where Galfrey would invite all the noble families with eligible daughters. However, Daeran would ultimately be the one to choose, and if he chose no one, then Galfrey would have to grudgingly accept that.

As soon as the Scaeva family receives their invitation, they make plans to present Lenarius’s older sister Serapia at the ball. It’s a long shot; Serapia is more than ten years older than Daeran and she’s rather unremarkable (plus she’s aro-gay and not particularly thrilled about this), but if she can secure a marriage with Daeran, then it would save the family from the disgrace of having a tainted bloodline. Lenarius fantasizes about attending this grand ball, but he knows that his mother would rather eat a babau’s barbed tail than let him go anywhere near it, so he resigns himself to staying on the sidelines as the rest of the family bustle about with their preparations.

The day Lenarius’s mother and siblings leave for Nerosyan, Lenarius decides he wants to make himself feel better by getting some new shoes made for him. A hare approaches him and his shoemaker as he is getting fitted in the garden. It is Hortensia, the companion of his devil ancestor. The deviless herself shows up not far behind and reveals the truth about Lenarius’s fiendish ancestry and that she is in the process of repenting for the evils she has committed. As part of that, she wants to help her “descendent” find happiness to make up for the suffering he had endured from being a tiefling.

Lenarius asks her if she could help him attend Queen Galfrey’s grand ball without his family noticing. She casts a spell to make it seem Lenarius is a human. Same deal in the story: she gives him a lovely gown and a carriage made from the local vegetation and transforms some nearby wild hares into horses. She even transforms the just fitted but unfinished shoes into a gorgeous pair of stylish shoes that fit his abnormal tiefling feet (this is in canon as well; Len has unusually long feet that are covered with hair and, instead of toenails, he has black claws sticking out of his toes. Having a special shoemaker that specializes in making footwear for tieflings is a somewhat big deal for him in canon). The deviless also gives the same illusion/transformation spell to the shoemaker so that he may travel along with Len as well. To get Lenarius into the ball, she reaches out to some contacts she has with the Chelaxian embassy to get him a position in the delegation that is to be in attendance. The spell breaks at midnight blah blah blah.

Lenarius and the shoemaker head out. He meets up with the delegation. They fit him up with a fabricated name and some false documents, and finally Len goes into the palace.

Neither Len nor Daeran expected to be drawn to each other. Len figures that Daeran is way out of his reach, and Daeran wants nothing to do with Cheliax. However, Lenarius does decide to approach Daeran in a fit of boldness; this is the only night he gets to do this after all, and no one will ever see him again. What could go wrong? It starts with Lenarius asking him to dance. Daeran agrees, but he’s very snippy about it, shooting snide remarks at Lenarius as they dance. Lenarius responds not with gasps of outrage or tuts of disapproval, but he comes back at Daeran with sharp witticisms of his own, and it’s not long before they build a rapport. Daeran finds himself more and more intrigued by this handsome stranger from Cheliax.

At some point, Serapia, with more than a little bit of prodding from her mother, awkwardly tries to have the next dance with Daeran. Lenarius tries to excuse himself, but Daeran decides to ditch the dance floor and go with him. Lenarius can only shoot her an apologetic look as he and Daeran walk away arm in arm.

Talk circulates among the ballroom about the mysterious courtier who has captured the Count’s attention. Galfrey is hopeful, but unnerved by this development. It bothers her that absolutely no one has ever heard about this person. Also, Lenarius isn’t someone who can have children with Daeran. Although marriage between any two adults is perfectly legal, it is a little worrying for someone who is the last of a noble family.

As for Lenarius and Daeran, the two of them have fun. Because no one knows who Len is, he feels more bold than usual; he talks about interests that he would never reveal and opens up about things he never shared. Daeran picks up on this vibe and starts opening up about himself as well.

At some point, the two of them end up on a balcony. Daeran opens up about how he feels stifled under Galfrey’s guardianship. “If my cousin had her way, I would be a perfectly mannered little doll married to a respectable lady and start a thriving family, never causing any embarrassment to her or my family.” Though Lenarius doesn’t tell Daeran the whole truth, he tells Daeran that he doesn’t live his life freely. After the ball, he would go right back to doing exactly what his family wants him to do and never stepping out of line again.

He also admits that he’s not supposed to be here. He falsified his way to get into the ball to have one night of freedom.

The more Daeran hears, the more he finds his companion absolutely compelling. The two of them kiss right before the clock strikes midnight. Lenarius tells Daeran he has to go. Daeran protests, telling him that he will protect Lenarius from anyone who tries to take him. Lenarius teleports off the balcony down to the grounds below and escapes with the shoemaker.

Because of a teleportation mishap, Lenarius leaves behind one of his shoes on the balcony. He realizes this just as the carriage and “horses” turn back to normal and he and the cobbler have to walk back to his family’s estate. Since the shoemaker still has Lenarius’s old boots from the fitting, he offers them back to Lenarius and takes the other transformed shoe so Len can actually walk home.

The next day, Daeran approaches Galfrey and announces that he wants to marry the mysterious person he spent the night with. All they have to work on is the beautiful but rather unusual shoe Lenarius left behind. Galfrey doesn’t like this idea, but Daeran is adamant that she keep her end of the bargain. Irabeth also doesn’t like this, as she thinks that if someone entered the castle who wasn’t supposed to be there posed a serious danger to Daeran and the queen, but Anevia wants to give this a chance.

Galfrey sends out her people to go look for this person. The Chelaxian embassy is immensely unhelpful. They make empty promises to find that person from their contingent, but all they can come up with is excuses. Anevia even secretly searches among the slaves, purchasing and freeing as many as she can along the way. Galfrey really doesn’t want to go along with the whole “match the shoe to everyone in the kingdom” because she believes that it’s another one of Daeran’s jokes, but Daeran is uncharacteristically adamant about this.

Before they can get to Len, his family finds out about that the person they are looking for is him and find out about the deal he made with his devil “ancestor”. Lenarius’s mother is furious about this and orders him locked up. When Anevia arrives at the Scaeva estate, they tell her that Lenarius was on a trip to a monastery and could not have been at the palace. However, as she is about to leave, the shoemaker stops her. He proves to her that it was Len by showing her the other shoe, that he still had. Len’s feet are so unique that even among tieflings it’s almost impossible to find another who would match.

They break Len out of the tower, Len goes back to Daeran’s estate. Daeran keeps Lenarius around and eventually marries him, much to Galfrey’s consternation. Everyone says that the turn of events was just another scandal the Count decided to cook up, but the two seem happy enough.

[rockislandadultreads]

Queens in History: a book list

Queens of the Crusades by Alison Weir

Packed with incredible true stories and legendary medieval intrigue, this epic narrative history chronicles the first five queens from the powerful royal family that ruled England and France for over three hundred years. This remarkable recreation of the action-packed century that saw the murder of Thomas Becket and the signing of the Magna Carta covers the lives and reigns of the first five Plantagenet queens, who ruled England and France throughout the bloody 1200s, a particularly dramatic and violent period of European history. Wars, crusades, treachery, murder, passion, and the interplay between rival monarchs of Britain and France provide a surprising picture of these five ambitious women and their struggle for power. The queens covered in the book are Eleanor of Aquitaine, Berengaria of Navarre, Isabella of Angouleme, Alienor of Provence and Eleanor of Castile. One of these queens became legendary when, accompanying her husband on crusade, she saved his life by sucking the blood from his poisoned-arrow wound. Equally intriguing are the descriptions of their marriages, including one that was extremely tempestuous, and one that was a love match turned sour when the jealous husband discovered his queen's infidelity and retaliated by killing her lovers and hanging their bodies from the canopy of her bed.

The Plantagenets: The Warrior Kings and Queens Who Made England by Dan Jones

The first Plantagenet king inherited a blood-soaked kingdom from the Normans and transformed it into an empire stretched at its peak from Scotland to Jerusalem. In this epic history, Dan Jones vividly resurrects this fierce and seductive royal dynasty and its mythic world. We meet the captivating Eleanor of Aquitaine, twice queen and the most famous woman in Christendom; her son, Richard the Lionheart, who fought Saladin in the Third Crusade; and King John, a tyrant who was forced to sign Magna Carta, which formed the basis of our own Bill of Rights. This is the era of chivalry, of Robin Hood and the Knights Templar, the Black Death, the founding of Parliament, the Black Prince, and the Hundred Year’s War. It will appeal as much to readers of Tudor history as to fans of 'Game of Thrones.

Sister Queens: The Noble, Tragic Lives of Katherine of Aragon and Juana, Queen of Castile by Julia Fox

The history books have cast Katherine of Aragon, the first queen of King Henry VIII of England, as the ultimate symbol of the Betrayed Woman, cruelly tossed aside in favor of her husband’s seductive mistress, Anne Boleyn. Katherine’s sister, Juana of Castile, wife of Philip of Burgundy and mother of the Holy Roman Emperor Charles V, is portrayed as “Juana the Mad,” whose erratic behavior included keeping her beloved late husband’s coffin beside her for years. But historian Julia Fox, whose previous work painted an unprecedented portrait of Jane Boleyn, Anne’s sister, offers deeper insight in this first dual biography of Katherine and Juana, the daughters of Spain’s Ferdinand and Isabella, whose family ties remained strong despite their separation. Looking through the lens of their Spanish origins, Fox reveals these queens as flesh-and-blood women—equipped with character, intelligence, and conviction—who are worthy historical figures in their own right. When they were young, Juana’s and Katherine’s futures appeared promising. They had secured politically advantageous marriages, but their dreams of love and power quickly dissolved, and the unions for which they’d spent their whole lives preparing were fraught with duplicity and betrayal. Juana, the elder sister, unexpectedly became Spain’s sovereign, but her authority was continually usurped, first by her husband and later by her son. Katherine, a young widow after the death of Prince Arthur of Wales, soon remarried his doting brother Henry and later became a key figure in a drama that altered England’s religious landscape. Ousted from the positions of power and influence they had been groomed for and separated from their children, Katherine and Juana each turned to their rich and abiding faith and deep personal belief in their family’s dynastic legacy to cope with their enduring hardships.

Four Queens and a Countess: Mary Queen of Scots, Elizabeth I, Mary I, Lady Jane Grey and Bess of Hardwick: The Struggle for the Crown by Jill Armitage

When Mary Stuart was forced off the Scottish throne she fled to England, a move that made her cousin Queen Elizabeth very uneasy. Ardent Catholics plotted to depose Elizabeth and put Mary Stuart on the English throne. She had Mary placed under house arrest with her old friend Bess of Hardwick, then married to her fourth husband, the Earl of Shrewsbury. The charismatic Scotswoman was treated more like a dowager queen than a prisoner and enjoyed the affluent lifestyle until Bess suspected Mary of seducing her husband. For 16 years Bess was forced to accommodate Mary and her entourage at enormous cost to both her finances and her marriage. This book delves deep into the relationship of these three women with their insurmountable differences, the way they tried to accommodate them and the lasting legacy this has left.

[inthedayswhenlandswerefew]

But You Can Never Leave [Chapter 10: Premonitions]

Several weeks and depressive episodes later...I’m BACK! 😃

And guess what: we’re officially approximately halfway done with BYCNL! (There will probably be nineteen chapters total.)  

The Queen/BoRhap fandom is feeling extra quiet lately, so if you’re still out there I’d LOVE it if you dropped me a comment/message/etc to let me know! I appreciate you all so much and hope you are finding things that bring you happiness, fulfillment, and peace. 💜

Chapter summary: Roger makes a purchase, Freddie makes a friend, Y/N makes an unsettling discovery, John makes a bewildering request.

This series is a work of fiction, and is (very) loosely inspired by real people and events. Absolutely no offense is meant to actual Queen or their families.

Song inspiration: Hotel California by The Eagles.

Chapter warnings: Language, babies (but not your babies...or are they?!).

Chapter list (and all my writing) available HERE

Taglist: @queen-turtle-boiii​ @loveandbeloved29​ @killer-queen-xo​ @maggieroseevans​ @imnotvibingveryguccimrstark​ @im-an-adult-ish​ @queenlover05​ @someforeigntragedy​ @imtheinvisiblequeen​ @joemazzmatazz​ @seven-seas-of-ham-on-rhye​ @namelesslosers​ @inthegardensofourminds​ @deacyblues​ @youngpastafanmug​ @sleepretreat​ @hardyshoe​ @bramblesforbreakfast​ @sevenseasofcats​ @tensecondvacation​ @bookandband​ @queen-crue​ @jennyggggrrr​ @madeinheavxn​ @whatgoeson-itslate​ @brianssixpence​ @simonedk​ @herewegoagainniall​ @stardust-killer-queen​

Please yell at me if I forget to tag you! 😊

“Roger, this is too much.” Your sandals click on the marble tile floor, a sandy gold like the beaches of Ostia. You peer up at the winding staircase, the Tudor-style diamond windows, the chandelier dripping with crystals. “This is way, way, way too much.”

“There’s no such thing as too much,” he parries merrily. “And look!” He pulls back an armful of sheer white curtains that had obscured the backyard. “The pool has a slide!”

You smile because you have to; he’s so elated, so young. “Roger, baby, unless you’re planning to acquire a literal harem of women we will never have a use for six bedrooms.”

“Sure we will!” He counts on his rugged fingers. “There’s one for us, and one can be the guest bedroom for when my mother or your parents visit, and then there’s one for if Chrissie ever wises up and leaves that wanker Brian and requires a place to stay between husbands, and one for when John needs an escape from that mind-numbing domestic purgatory of his, and one for Freddie’s overflow cats...” Roger trails off. He’s lost track.  

“That still leaves one unnecessary bedroom.”

He grins. “One for Roger Junior.”

“Oh my god.”

“It’s a wonderful home for children,” the real estate agent chimes, flitting around rearranging pillows and dusting off tabletops. “Plenty of space to spread out in, lots of bedrooms, fenced-in yard, security gate, spectacular school district...and such a lovely garden to explore! Does your wife garden?” she asks Roger.

“Girlfriend,” he corrects. “And no, she’s thoroughly useless in the agricultural department.”

You laugh and shove him away. “I have other talents.”

“You certainly do.” He growls as he grips your waist, inhales you, bites playfully down your neck and collarbones. The real estate agent raises her eyebrows, but politely averts her gaze and pretends to check if an artificial fern needs watering.

It’s the downturn of August, 1976. The sun is glaring and hot and spills in through the windows, setting the metallic flecks in the marble floor alight. It makes you think of the Yellow Brick Road, of fantasies built piece by piece into truth. John and Veronica bought a house in Putney, Brian and Chrissie a far larger one in Chelsea, Freddie and Mary a posh flat in West Kensington. Roger has his heart set on nothing less than a Surrey mansion. On the rare occasion that Queen has been home since the start of the A Night At The Opera Tour, you and Roger stay in his shabby—dodgy, you remind yourself—old apartment and pack boxes late into the evening, giggling over all the random and ancient relics you stumble across, sticks of Freddie’s eyeliner and dust bunnies tangled in strands of Brian’s spiraled hair, crumpled up spheres of paper with excerpts of songs scrawled on them, fossilized crusts of grilled cheese sandwiches beneath the couch. Queen is preparing for a brief UK tour at the start of September, including a free concert in Hyde Park organized by entrepreneur Richard Branson. Then it’ll be back to the studio to record their next album, a highly anticipated album, an album that will make millions regardless of what’s on it; and what’s on it, in your humble and musically unlearned opinion, is pretty goddamn great.

“Seriously,” Roger prompts, quietly now. “Do you like it?”

“Of course I like it. I love it. I just don’t need it.”

He grins. “I know you don’t need it. But I do.”

“That list of yours is getting awfully long.”

“You have no idea. We haven’t even started on the exotic pet collection yet.”

“There’s a marvelous koi pond out in the backyard,” the real estate agent says. “You could add turtles, and frogs, and all different types of fish. I can recommend sturgeon, they have such an alluring primeval sort of look to them, and the shimmer on shubunkins is just delightful...”

“You heard the lady.” Rog stretches his right hand like he does when his arm bothers him, when the bone that will never fully heal aches like something ancient and irredeemable, like hunger, like unrequited love: fingertips sprayed outwards, then folded into his palm, then outwards again.

“Rog...I don’t know.”

“Come on, baby! It has everything. Roman-style master bath. Bedrooms with mirrors on the ceiling. Space for my own studio. Land. Enormous refrigerators. You’ll have abundant room for John’s drawings.”

“Ohhh, now that’s true.” John is always adding to your collection, slipping you sketches as the boys scurry around getting ready before a show, during songwriting sessions that last long after midnight, when the band and its expanding circle of friends and family gather for birthdays and holidays. You don’t ask him about You’re My Best Friend, or, come to think of it, any of his other songs. You don’t ask him how he feels about his new life as a husband and father. And in return, John doesn’t ask whether you’re ever going to marry Roger, if you even want to, if you worry about what the future holds. It’s a loaded peace, but a comfortable one. A safe one.

“It doesn’t bother you, does it?” Roger asks suddenly. “The girlfriend thing. The not-wife thing.”

“No,” you reply, smiling. “Of course not.” Roger isn’t someone who pens love letters, recites all the reasons why he cannot live without you, sings love songs. He rarely speaks of love at all. Roger is as he always is: all action, all energy, eyes forever looking forward. But he does love you; you’re sure he does. Everything he does bleeds with love.

“Good. Because there’s no one I’d rather acquire a harem and zoological park with.”

“Okay,” you relent. “But no lions or tigers or bears. I’m quite attached to your limbs, and you’ve come close enough to ruining them already.”

“Deal.” He taps the Canon that hangs from your shoulder by its strap. “We should document this momentous juncture. One day we can pull out the photo album and show Roger Junior. ‘Hey look kid, this was the day Mum and Dad bought the house you were conceived in.’”

You laugh, almost positive that Roger isn’t serious. “I can guarantee you that precisely zero percent of children would ever want to hear that.” Nevertheless, you ready the camera and hold it as far away as you can, the lens aimed towards you.

“Don’t forget to smile!” Roger trills in his high, victorious voice as he rests his chin in the dip of your collarbone.

You snap the photo. The flash bursts through the kitchen of the Surrey mansion, blinding you both. The artificial bluish light dissipates like smoke.

~~~~~~~~~~

His name is Laszlo, and he’s one of the most beautiful things you’ve ever seen...even when he’s not especially well-mannered.

Currently, Laszlo—an Eastern European moniker from somewhere in his mother’s comically vast family tree—is whimpering and squirming against Veronica’s chest as she pats his tiny back and sighs wearily. Veronica, ever the good Polish Catholic wife, is already pregnant again. Chrissie smirks triumphantly and puffs on a cigarette, her rings glimmering on her left hand, her dress violet and new and very expensive. Brian is lost in some deep intellectual conversation with Richard Branson, gesturing with his long nimble hands and nodding empathetically, his dark curls rustling in the breeze like the lithe branches of a willow tree.

“Thank god you’re here,” John calls as you and Roger approach. “Freddie is about to get this concert cancelled.”

“I’m about to make this concert fabulous, darling,” Freddie objects. “We need pyrotechnics, we need sparklers and explosions and fireworks!”

Mr. Branson shakes his head. “Can’t do it, Fred. The embers could travel and set the trees on fire.”

Freddie groans. “Tell him, Roger!”

Roger shrugs, grinning, resting his elbow on John’s shoulder. “I don’t know, maybe we shouldn’t burn down Hyde Park.”

“You’ll be under a huge orange canopy, right over there.” Mr. Branson motions with a sweep of his arm. “You can’t do anything aerial. Flashing lights, sure. Fog, sure. But no fire. No explosions. Oh, and there’s technically a noise ordinance, but we’re working out a deal so the city won’t enforce it on the day of the show.”

“Orange?!” Freddie squeals.

“How will the acoustics be in a tent?” Brian asks, troubled.

John smiles mischievously. “Yes, how dreadful if no one could hear the extraneous guitar solos.”

“I have a gong, Rich,” Roger says. “Everyone will be able to hear my gong, right?”

“Your gong?” Freddie whines. “What about my voice?!”

“I miss stadiums,” Roger grumbles. You exchange a knowing glance with Mary and Chris and Veronica, who is imploring Laszlo to take a bottle. Our boys are difficult, aren’t they?

“The acoustics will be fine,” Mr. Branson snaps. “The tent color will be fine. Everything will be fine. You don’t need any fucking fireworks. Please for the love of god just tell me what kind of sandwiches you want.”

“That’ll be an ordeal as well,” Chrissie quips, and you all laugh; even Laszlo perks up, stops wriggling, glimpses around the open green space with curious greyish eyes like John’s.

Some teenage employee carrying a tangle of cables trots over, sweat dripping down his flushed freckled cheeks. “Mr. Branson? There’s someone from the city here to see you.”

Richard Branson smacks his forehead. “Jesus christ. Okay, I’ll be right there. Hey, Steve, hey, have you seen Dom? Go find Dom and tell her to come over here, okay? Thanks.”

The teenage employee nods and disappears into a sea of bustling people ferrying equipment, fliers, chairs, messages.

“I’m so sorry about this,” Mr. Branson says. “These city bastards are out to crucify me. You’d think they’d be a little more grateful that Queen of all bands is willing to put on a free concert in their backyard, but alas. Hey, Dom, over here!”

He waves to a petite young woman with a glossy shock of black hair and olive Mediterranean skin. She’s wearing all yellow: shorts patterned with daffodils, a tank top the color of butter, a headband like a sunbeam. One of her trim arms is cradling a notebook; the other reaches out so she can shake hands with everyone. The gesture is courteous but somewhat unnatural.

“This,” Mr. Branson begins, “is my personal assistant Dominique. She’s wonderful, she’ll listen to all your pretentious tales of woe and do it with a smile, because she’s a true professional. Better yet, she’s going to ask you the tedious questions I was supposed to so you don’t have to wait for me to finish sparring with the city council. Okay? Okay. Have fun. I’ll be back.”

“It’s a pleasure,” Dom says placidly in a heavy French accent. So that’s why her handshake was off somehow, stilted and weak; the French usually kiss as a greeting. You choke back a snort as you imagine Veronica’s reaction to that. Mr. Branson stalks away muttering about litigious twats.

“Oh, aren’t you just darling!” Freddie circles Dom, admiring her outfit, her hair, her gold hoop earrings. He wafts his cigarette around flamboyantly, completely forgetting to smoke it. “The French are so tasteful, aren’t they? You simply must connect me with your stylist.”

“I would be happy to, Mr. Mercury. But regrettably, I am my own stylist.”

“Ahh!” Freddie exhales, enamored. Mary lifts Laszlo from Veronica’s tired arms and cradles him, tickles his nose, beams down into his fresh and inquisitive face.

Dom pulls a pen from her shirt pocket. “May I ask your sandwich preferences for the day of the show?”

She immediately receives four very different answers, and she raises an eyebrow, her pen hovering over the lined paper of her notebook.

“I’m so sorry about them,” Chrissie says, and Dom chuckles civilly.

“Ham and cheddar,” Freddie tells her, synthesizing the responses. “Bacon, fried fish, steak and onion jam...and something for Brian. Cucumber maybe. Could we get some cucumber sandwiches, dear?”

“You’re a vegetarian?” Dom asks Brian, jotting down notes.

“He’s morally superior to us in every way,” John sighs dreamily, and Rog and Freddie cackle.

“I’m not a strict vegetarian,” Bri clarifies. “But for the sake of the animals and the planet, I try to limit meat when I can.”

Roger adds: “And I order twice as much of it, just to spite him.”

Dominique leads Queen around the portion of Hyde Park where the concert will be held, runs through the itinerary, fields a litany of questions and complaints. And you decide that you like Dom; she’s professional and reserved, yes, but she’s also patient with Freddie, smiles at his jokes, compliments his black-and-yellow striped shirt (“We match, and you remind me of a...oh, what’s the word in English? That bug...it flies around buzzing...buzz buzz...a bee!”), asks him what he’s planning to wear to the show. She assuages Brian, listens to John, takes the time to chat with the women about children, makeup, homes, what it’s like to be in love with rock stars. But Dom mostly ignores Roger, dodges his grins, remains staunchly undazzled. And that would worry you—because Roger loves the chase, you know that firsthand—if he hadn’t already taught you how to trust him, how addictively flawless and exhilarating life with Roger Taylor could be.

When Laszlo begins to fuss in Mary’s grasp, you take your turn holding him; and he blinks up at you with eyes that are wide and clear and seeking, and you find yourself feeling like you always do when you’re around your godson: like maybe you have a stronger opinion about wanting children than you thought you did, like you can’t stop envisioning a baby with Roger’s eyes instead of John’s.

That evening—after leaving Hyde Park, after dinner, after drinks mixed out by the koi pond—as you doze in a sweltering bubble bath and steam curls through the air, you hear Roger’s voice floating from the kitchen downstairs. You rise out of the tub, towel yourself off, slip into a white silk robe as rivulets of bathwater slink down the back of your neck. You tread gingerly towards the kitchen, keep silent so you can hear, lurk in the shadows of the hallway with your palms pressed flat against the wallpaper.

“Hello, is Dominique Beyrand in?” Roger says into the kitchen phone. “I’ve been trying to track her down. Sure, I’ll wait. Thanks.” After a pause, he continues. “Hi, Dom! It’s Roger Taylor, from Queen. The irritating blond one. I was just wondering if you’d happened to stumble across my wallet since this afternoon, I seem to have misplaced it. Oh, you haven’t? Bloody hell. Well, thank you for taking my call. Aw, that’s so kind of you, I’m sure I’ll locate it eventually. I’ve got a terrible habit of losing things. Okay, thanks so much. Goodnight to you too. See you soon. Cheers.” He hangs the phone up as you step into the kitchen. His smile is bright and innocuous. “Hey, baby!”

“Who was that?” Your tone is similarly casual; or so you hope.

“Just Richard Branson’s assistant. That French woman Dominique. I can’t find my wallet and thought I might have left it at Hyde Park, but no dice. Oh well.”

Roger begins rummaging through the drawer full of business cards and address books, tapping his foot, humming to himself. And surely he isn’t trying to avoid my eyes. Your gaze skates over the marble countertop. There, by the refrigerator, just a few feet—a meter, you correct yourself to be properly British—from where Roger stands, is his black leather wallet.

“It’s right there, Rog,” you say, pointing. And now your voice isn’t so nonchalant.

Roger spins to check. “Oh my god, I completely missed it!” He snatches up the wallet with a celebratory chuckle. “I’m such a twit sometimes. You’re too fucking smart, you know that? You’re making me look bad.”

He rushes to you, takes your left hand, bites your knuckles lightly like he did outside Massachusetts General Hospital under dawn skies over two years ago. And then Roger whispers to you, nuzzling your neck scented with lavender soap and doubt.

“Let’s go to bed.”

~~~~~~~~~~

There’s a knock at the door. John is standing on the front porch of the Surrey house with his hands in his pockets and a vague sort of smile on his face. He’s in a black suit.

“Get ready,” he says. “Do your hair, throw on some earrings. Maybe the pearls Roger got you last Christmas. We’re going shopping.”

“Why do I need to look fancy to go shopping?”

John shrugs, feigning indifference; but the puckish glint in his eyes gives him away. Yet there’s something a little sad and weighty in them too, isn’t there?

Your own eyes narrow. “I’m onto you, bassist.”

He laughs as you tug teasingly at a lock of his downy hair. “You always are.”

John takes you to a dress shop on Bond Street where the corsets trickle with gemstones and the designers all have Italian names: Armani, Prada, Abate, Cerruti, Valentino, Biagiotti. He sinks into a leather chair just outside the fitting room and lights a cigarette, takes a long drag, points to you with the lit end.

“Go ahead. Go wild. It’s a blank check.”

“Really?!” You glance around the shop, your pulse racing. “But I don’t know the occasion. I don’t want to be underdressed or overdressed or whatever. Although I don’t think I’ve ever been overdressed in my life.”

“Yes, you can’t seem to shake those pragmatic service industry roots, can you?” Another drag. “You need a dress and matching shoes. Formal, but not too formal. Think a record company party. Elegant but exciting. Lots of sparkle. Slightly slutty, if you’re so inclined.”

“This is an unconventional bonding activity,” you tell John, trying to conceal your nerves.

“Love, this isn’t something you can fail at,” he says, gently now. “You’re going to look amazing no matter what. So just have fun with it. This isn’t a test. This is one of those adventures you’re always searching for.”

I can promise you that your life will never feel like a cage; that’s what Roger once told you. But maybe you don’t always want to be quite so free, so unmoored. “Okay. But you have to swear to give honest opinions. I don’t want to show up looking like a wombat because you were too nice to say anything.”

John just chuckles to himself, shakes his head, devours cigarette after cigarette.

With the assistance of one of the shop employees, you climb into a pastel pink dress with a full ruffled skirt, an emerald green dress with an empire waist and loose sheer sleeves, a shimmering metallic silvery dress with a form-fitting silhouette. John nods at all of them, wholeheartedly approves, defers to your judgment. He periodically consults his wristwatch as he taps his cigarettes on the rim of an ashtray, and deflects your questions when you ask him why. Then you step out of the fitting room—balanced on gold heels—in a white dress with a hem that hits just above your knees, a halter neckline, a slim keyhole down the center of your chest; and John’s cigarette tumbles out of his fingers.

“That’s the one,” he breathes, soaking it in. Then he asks the employee to cut off all the tags and whips out his wallet. “Toss your old clothes and shoes in a bag. We gotta catch a cab.”

“We’re going straight to the party?”

“We certainly are.”

“What the hell kind of ridiculously lame party starts at 3 p.m.?”

John smirks craftily. “The kind of party we’re going to. Let’s rock and roll, Florence Nightingale.”

John gives the taxi driver an address and you sail through the streets of London, splashing through shallow evaporating puddles, squinting when sunlight ricochets glaringly off the slick pavement. The taxi rolls to a stop outside of a grand stone building with columns and intricate carvings of leaves and flowers. The sign outside reads: Kensington and Chelsea Register Office.

You turn to John. “Who’s getting married?!”

He just smiles, a deep harbor of secrets.

“It’s Fred and Mary, right? Jesus christ, John, you can’t wear white to someone else’s wedding, Mary’s going to strangle me—”

“It’s not Mary’s wedding.”

Slowly, your jaw falls open. “No,” you whisper in disbelief.

John darts out of the taxi, jogs around to your side, and opens the door for you. You gape up at him senselessly, struggling to remember how to form sentences.

“John...this...this is some bizarre and elaborate joke, right?”

“Nope.” He offers his hand, helps you out of the taxi, leads you up the front steps of the Register Office. Inside, everyone is waiting: Freddie and Mary, Brian and Chrissie, Veronica with babbling baby Laszlo, Roger’s mother and sister...and Roger, of course, in his best black suit and bleached blond hair and trademark guaranteed-to-dazzle (unless of course you’re Dominique Beyrand) grin. He flies to you and takes your hands in his.

“You look incredible, baby.”

“Roger, what’s going on...?”

“Don’t freak out,” he commands, and instantly your panic vanishes. There’s a pink rose pinned to his lapel. “I know we don’t feel like we need to get married. I know we agree it doesn’t mean anything.” Is that still true? “So don’t think that this is about trying to trap you or control you or bullshit white picket fences or anything. And of course you can say no, I won’t be mad, no one will hold that against you, we can find some other reason to party. But the simple facts are that I’m a British national with a mansion and a plethora of perpetual royalties and you’re an American here on a work visa, and the law gets a bit thorny in this situation. And I want to make sure you’re taken care of if something happens to me. That you can carry out my wishes. That you can stay here with the band as long as you want to. So, I’ve got your passport and birth certificate and everything else we need...and some overly-enthusiastic witnesses. Are you cool with signing a piece of paper today?”

“Of course she bloody well is!” Freddie exclaims, and everyone laughs. Mary is carrying a basket full of champagne flutes, Chrissie several bottles of pink champagne, Roger’s sister a tub of ice. Brian has been entrusted to chronicle the event with your Canon. Veronica is more giddy than you’ve ever seen her, even more animated than she was at her own wedding. Well, I suppose she doesn’t have to worry about any illicit pregnancies or condemnatory great aunts this time around.

“Okay,” you tell Roger. And you wish you weren’t beaming so broadly your cheeks ache, because it feels a little pathetic to be this happy about an admittedly meaningless wedding. But it does make you happy, your general aversion towards conventionality be damned.

You sign papers and you toast glasses and you giggle uproariously in the lobby of the Register Office with the best friends you’ve ever had, guzzle pink champagne, pose for photos, take your turn holding Laszlo, kiss Roger beneath the stone arch of the centuries-old building.

It doesn’t mean anything, you remind yourself, suddenly very aware of the missing weight of a ring on your left hand. It doesn’t mean anything. It doesn’t mean anything.

But you catch a few furtive glances between Chrissie and Bri, the twist of a frown on Freddie’s face when he thinks no one is watching, the distance in John’s shadowy eyes as he inhales champagne like air.

It doesn’t mean anything.

[kosmosian-quills]

Week 2 - Becoming

My next piece for the @yourocsbackstory​ Antagonist event!

I used to have a very pleasant and friendly relationship with his majesty. I was willing to give him my advice and he took that counsel always, seeing my reasoning as wise and for the best.

I even considered him a friend, despite the difference in our positions. He never pulled rank on me, for any reason, and his family know and trust me as a good friend to all of them.

Well. He pulled rank on me once.

I remember the very day that I saw everything differently. The moment the lens of disillusionment shattered before my very eyes, and I realised just how much I don't see eye to eye with his majesty.

"You reached a decision, your majesty?" I asked, holding out his sash for him to take from me.

The King was stood in front of the mirror in his office, getting himself prepared for the portrait that will be painted of him just this afternoon. Of course I was making sure that he looked presentable, given that he is also celebrating his daughter's 10th birthday today.

"I have, Juliusz," he replied, taking the sash from me and slipping it over his head. I ensured that it was perfectly straight for him at the back whilst he did from the front. "I feel it best to deny the request."

I admit, I was taken aback by his response, but I know my position well enough to not make a fuss about it.

"May I enquire why, your majesty?"

He fiddled with the cufflinks on his blood red coat, not even looking me in the eyes through the mirror, before he turned about and made his way to the door. "Because I do not approve of becoming a surveillance state. I do not wish to be known for being the King that strangled and stifled his subjects."

I followed him out of the door, and down the corridor, back to the throne room where the King is expected to be with his family. We passed a few of the Royal Guard, whom all stop and salute as he approaches and passes. They don't expect any acknowledgement, nor do they get one. As we passed the last pair, I can't help but notice how his jacket is crooked. A disgrace, certainly, and if I wasn't following His Majesty I would have stopped to ensure he makes himself presentable this instant.

"But sire, surely that is a small price to pay to quell the recent rise of terrorist cells?" I countered, "you saw the damage they did to the Stare Miasto, we're lucky it was contained. If your subjects are not with these terrorists, then they have nothing to fear."

"I appreciate your thoughts on the matter, General, but my decision stands. I refuse to allow my subjects to be recorded and monitored under dubious circumstances. What would happen if the wrong person were to gain access to these surveillance archives? Use it to search for people in their own interests? No, it's much safer to keep things the way they are."

"I am trying to keep them safe too, by deterring would-be-terrorists from planning attacks they know we are watching them. You think that not ensuring they are properly monitored and tracked is going to be safer in the long run?"

"I think, General, that my subjects have a right to walk down the road without being recorded in that action. Into their homes, the homes of their families, friends. I certainly wouldn't like it."

"I'm afraid I disagree, your majesty."

Our arrival at the throne room - fully adorned for the celebration taking place today - is what prompts the King to stop, turn around and face me. Ignoring his wife and daughter for the moment, even though they are stood off to the side, waiting for his arrival.

"This discussion is over, General. I am not speaking of this anymore. My decision is final. The request has been denied." His eyes are stern, with that look that he knows will end this argument. He doesn't need to say it, I am the King, because it's all over his face. Those brown eyes of his cold as steel.

I don't agree. I don't think this is wise.

I swore to serve him, and yet here, it's painfully clear to me that nothing I say will change his mind at all. Why would he disregard all my advice and counsel now? After the many years we have worked together, and he has always followed that advice.

I suppose I'm not used to being disagreed with.

"Yes, your majesty."

He nods, turning around to go join his family. I can just barely hear what he says to them.

"Sorry about the delay." His Majesty says to his loving wife - to his Queen- who barely pays me any mind as the three of them move to the spot where the artist is directing them to stand. Of course, she looks as radiant as ever in that long emerald dress, with the bare shoulders and silver gloves, not a crease on her.

"Nothing serious, I - Anjelika, stop fiddling with it."

The Queen's words are punctuated by her sharp comment to the Princess, stood between them scratching at her neck, where the neckline of the deep blue dress is. Long sleeved and flowing, it's certainly one of the more formal dresses that belongs to Her Royal Highness.

The Princess turns around to look at her mother, who had rested a hand on her shoulder. "But mother, it's itchy -"

"Don't fidget then, and it won't itch." The King responds, resting his hand on the Princess' other shoulder.

The Princess doesn't argue, merely clasps her hands together as instructed, and waits there whilst the artist offers his final requests for them to stand still, the blank canvas will not be like that for much longer.

An incredible tradition, that is. Something I know the King was looking forward to completing. He was 10 years old when he was painted before, a whole 27 years ago. His mother before him, her father before her. All a proud tradition for the Royal Family, and this won’t happen again until the young Princess herself has children of her own. The King always told me that he’ll never forget the day his first portrait was painted, not because of the enormous responsibility of the tradition, but because his younger brother had managed to stain his jacket just before the portrait was painted, and their mother was not impressed. The artist, at least, had the sense to quietly edit that out of the final portrait, but it’s still something he could look back on and smile.

I wonder how it would feel to be stood there. Not even for two of them, for just *one* portrait. Immortalised forever in ink and paint, hung proudly on the wall, for future generations to look at and revere just like we do now.

I wonder…

Just how likely it would be for me to be on the next one, stood beside His Majesty’s daughter. I wonder whether the King would even accept that kind of proposal from me, but at least he would know that his daughter would be in safe hands at least. With someone he can trust. Rather than some stranger, who would only want to marry her for her title.

Of course, it’s far too early to think about such things. But I still wonder.

What it would cost me to be in that portrait?

[jovialyouthmusic]

Silver Service

We return to the hospital to monitor Anton’s condition, and Olivia visits Lucretia again. Liam makes Olivia an offer.

Word count 3542

A/N One of my characters tried to bail out while I was writing this, but I managed to bring her back. Odd how characters take over. No warnings, though it is a little dark - poisoning, threats, implied death of a character.

21 If only it were all simple.

‘Hello husband. You’ve been asking to see me, so here I am. Am I not worth a glance? A word?’ Anton struggled to open his eyes. He knew that voice – whose was it? He felt as if a ton weight sat on his chest, and his head was filled with a thick fog.

‘You had the gall to uphold the outdated concept of an arranged marriage. Even when you knew I wouldn’t honour it, you continued to expect me to capitulate. But Nevrakis never give in. You never had a chance of me being your wife or your Queen.’ It meant nothing to him. Nevrakis? Who was that? Queen? He fought harder. If only he could open his eyes he might be able to speak. If he could speak, maybe he could move…

‘Know this, Anton. Liam is ten times the man you are, and he and I will secure the future of Cordonia. I carry his heir, and I will never be yours. I’ll fight that to the last breath in my body, and Liam will stay by my side, whether he is King or not’

Fight to the last breath?

If you can breathe, you can stand, and if you can stand, you can fight.

The words echoed around his head as the mist cleared, and he drew all his strength together. Everything came flooding back to him.

She carried Liam’s child? When she was supposed to be his, promised to him from childhood – his bride who would rule Cordonia by his side. He forced his eyes open at last, taking in the sight of his betrothed sitting beside him, and with a superhuman effort his hand shot out and he gripped her wrist. He was rewarded by the look of astonishment and alarm in her eyes.

Then that bastard spawn of the usurper Constantine ruined it all, snatching her arm away from him. Something was happening in his chest – squeezing, crushing pain. He fought for breath as Liam and Olivia were pushed away by medical staff.

Was this a heart attack? Why did his head hurt too, throbbing with his heartbeat? He was in the right place, that was certain. This was a hospital, and he was surrounded by doctors. His arm went into spasm, followed by his whole body tensing and stiffening for a moment before going limp, and something happened in his head, something hot which spread outward. He couldn’t move – nothing – not his arms, his legs, his hands, he could not speak or swallow or breathe. The pain increased and terror gripped him. His eyes were the only thing that obeyed his will, and they widened and fixed on one of the doctors, pleading. He seemed to float above his body, looking down  as he watched the medics tending to him – able to feel everything, see everything, hear everything – but he could do nothing, make no sound, no movement… then everything went black.

------

Bastien sat beside Anton’s bed. He was as he had been before the King’s visit – alive but not conscious. The difference was that he had suffered a massive heart attack and some strange seizure after which he had to be intubated so he could breathe.

Lucretia had refused to elaborate on the nature of the poison that had been mixed in with the mussel extract that triggered Anton’s allergic reaction. All they knew was that it was a rare Lythican herb whose effects were subsequently unknown.

The swelling on Anton’s brain had subsided, but a head scan had revealed that a clot had migrated there from the one that caused his heart attack, depriving certain areas of oxygen despite his constant monitoring. Only a specialist could even guess at the results of that deprivation, but it was highly unlikely that Anton would recover and be the man he had been before.

Grimly, Bastien surveyed Anton’s features, again slack and unresponsive. If he never regained any cognition, he wouldn’t get closure from the man who had arranged the kidnap of his soulmate, assaulted her and plotted the murder of Lady Adelaide. In Bastien’s mind, those plans almost overshadowed his scheme to gain the throne of Cordonia and most likely rule as a despot far worse than Constantine. At least his former employer had maintained a semblance of benevolence and kindness to his subjects, despite doing things behind the scenes that Bastien still deeply regretted helping him to execute. He had the feeling that Anton’s reign would have been far worse, and he would have fled the country rather than serve him. Who knows whether Anton would have insisted on his loyalty or had him disposed of?

He decided that he didn’t feel the need to talk to Anton. If he had some level of cognition, he was suffering sufficiently. If he was unconscious in every sense of the word, it was pointless. He had already made him regret hurting Sophia, and Drake for Riley. This near vegetative state would atone as revenge for Lady Adelaide, and for Liam and Olivia. He rose from his seat and left the room, nodding to Paulos, the guard at the door, who stood to attention as he emerged.

‘As you were, son. You know the drill – no unscheduled visitors, and only staff that are on the approved list. If there’s an emergency, then any medical staff can be admitted. If you feel the need to observe him at any point, it must be with an approved member of staff. No single visitors or members of staff to be admitted apart from myself or the King. Have you got that?’

‘Yes Sir’ Bastien clapped him on the shoulder.

‘Good man. Contact Lewis in the first instance if you need to, or myself if he’s not available’ Bastien walked steadily away from Anton’s room without the aid of his cane, making for the SUV to go back to the Palace.

------

‘So in conclusion, Lord Severus is in a serious but stable condition.’ Liam said, looking into the TV camera lens in a statement to the nation from his office at the Palace. ‘I feel that he would not wish for us to cancel or postpone any Royal events, and were he able to speak for himself, he would applaud our continuing efforts to raise funds for deserving causes in Lythikos. Duchess Olivia herself has sponsored a brand new intensive care unit in the Lythos General Hospital in the hope that those needing specialist treatment in the Duchy would not lose valuable time having to be transported to the main Capitol Hospital.’ He looked down at his desk ‘Should there be any major change in Lord Severus’s condition I will be informed and will make any relevant decisions as needed’

‘And cut’ the director called ‘Thankyou your Majesty, this will be broadcast shortly’ The TV crew started to pack their things away, and Liam ran his fingers through his hair.

‘Thankyou for your professionalism’ he smiled graciously ‘It’s always a pleasure to work with you’ He hoped that his statement would soften the blow of Lucretia’s publicised confession to poisoning Anton. The popularity of Lythikos within Cordonia was seesawing wildly at the moment, and he intended for everything to end up with popular opinion firmly on Olivia’s side as the wronged Duchess, forced into a marriage she didn’t want and brought up by a ruthless and unfeeling relative. The week or so spent openly in her company would go some way toward softening her image ready for him to announce that she carried his heir.

Day by day it looked increasingly unlikely that Anton would ever be in a fit state to rule the country. CT scans had shown irreversible brain and nerve damage that meant he would at the very least be paralysed from the neck down, and at worst might never regain consciousness. Liam’s archivists and lawyers assured him that being fit to rule was an absolute necessity for any candidate to the throne. He wondered if part of his father’s reason for concealing his illness had been simply to remain in power as long as he could.

Now it was time for him to go to Lythikos for the charity snow sports. Nobles and commoners alike would compete for trophies in skiing, skating, bobsleighing and other events. Nobles would pay for the privilege of competing, and sponsorship for commoners had been invited from local and national businesses. Tickets were on sale to view the event and there would be a winter fair at which medals would be awarded, followed by a Ball at Olivia’s Lodge. Locals were already calling it the ‘Lytholympics’. There would be something to suit every pocket, and people would flock to the Duchy from all over Cordonia now that the King had announced that it was going ahead despite the attempt on Anton’s life.

Olivia was waiting for him in his private lounge, her bags packed ready to leave for her home duchy. She looked tired but a little less pale. Liam went up to her and she offered her cheek for a kiss. He was tempted to hug her, but held back. He didn’t want to crowd her. Instead he took her hands in his and squeezed them.

‘Chin up Livvy, it looks increasingly likely that Anton won’t be in a position to complete his challenge’ She smiled wanly.

‘I wish I could be certain’ she said fiercely. ‘Perhaps I should pay one last visit to my aunt before we go’

‘Only if you feel up to it’ Liam said softly ‘But if you think it would bring you closure, I’m right behind you. We have an hour or two to spare.’ She took a deep breath and stood straight.

‘I think I am, but I’d like to talk to her alone. You can come, but stay outside. We can take the limo to the cottage and then go straight off to Lythikos’

‘Of course. I’ll let Bastien know’

Half an hour or so later, Olivia sat in her aunt’s lounge, waiting for Lucretia. She appeared, but Olivia remained seated.

‘Niece’ the older woman said, sitting in an easy chair beside the fireplace. ‘Will you take tea?’

‘No thankyou’ she said shortly ‘A glass of water will be sufficient. I hope I can trust you not to add any herbal extracts to it’

‘Of course not’ her aunt snorted ‘You’re mother to the royal heir, and Nevrakis only hope of going forward into the future. I did what I did to ensure your wellbeing’ Olivia raised her eyebrow to that but didn’t reply. ‘So what do you want, my dear?’

‘I won’t beat around the bush. I need to know if Anton is likely to recover his senses and make his claim to the throne’

‘Is that all?’

‘Isn’t it enough?’ A maid came in with a tray and set it down on the coffee table. Olivia’s eyes flicked to the teapot and a plate of Lythican spiced cookies.

‘Bring some tap water would you?’ her aunt demanded ‘I’ll pour my own tea’ She did so, and Olivia gritted her teeth waiting. The maid came back with water, and Lucretia sipped her tea.

‘He’ll not recover’ she replied at last. ‘He’s paralysed, I take it?’ Olivia nodded ‘He will remain so, but how long he lingers depends on his constitution. Most who have been – treated in this way never speak again, and generally the poison causes a lingering death.’

‘Generally?’ Olivia asked

‘Oh don’t worry my dear - what I meant was that death is certain, but how swiftly it comes varies - as I said.’

‘Will you reveal what herb it is?’

‘Oh no dear, to be frank I don’t know. Only my herbalist does, and even the identity of that person is unknown to me, as is traditional. You are sadly lacking in certain aspects of Lythican folklore, my girl. But don’t fret, all will be passed on to you in the fullness of time. I look forward to seeing you ascend the throne’

‘I’ll not ask for that’ Olivia said, thin lipped ‘I don’t wish to be Queen. What I do want is that Liam is happy, and he has agreed that by me bearing the heir, he will be content’ Lucretia frowned

‘Not want to be Queen? Are you insane, girl? If you just act like a human incubator, who’s to say he won’t take your child away? He could discard you once he has his heir, and take another woman. Who’s to say he hasn’t made the same arrangement with other women, and promised them the same?’ Olivia’s eyes grew wide.

‘Liam’s not like that’ she said in a low voice ‘He’s not like his father – he’s gentle and caring’

‘Do you think he’ll stay the same with the weight of the crown on his head?’ Lucretia scoffed ‘Power corrupts, and he is his father’s son. He was not raised to be King, and he has barely had time to adjust to his new role. Demand to be the Queen you should be, Olivia. Hold the King to ransom – refuse him your child. Shut yourself off, close the borders of Lythikos or flee to exile if he refuses.’ She leaned forward, stabbing a forefinger at her niece to make her point. ‘You know you would be Queen if he becomes incapable of ruling, and that would be so very easy for me to arrange’

‘Are you threatening to do the same to Liam as you did to Anton?’ Olivia gasped. ‘What sort of monster are you?’

‘The monster that will fulfil the ambition of our family’ she replied ‘If you won’t make sure of your accession to the throne, I will’

‘I’ll see to it that you don’t’ Olivia hissed ‘You won’t meddle in my life any longer, you old witch’ Lucretia sat back and smiled, and Olivia rose with dignity and left the room.

---------

Liam was waiting for her outside the cottage. She was tight lipped and pale with rage.

‘Lets get out of this place’ she said ‘Let’s go to Lythikos’ She made for the car, and Liam followed her. She sat back in the seat, letting her head drop back against the leather headrest and closing her eyes, her hand going protectively to her belly. Liam sat back too, but remained silent for a while. He wanted to know what had her riled up, and the sooner the better, to help her to calm down. As the limo swept out of the Palace gates onto the main road, he leaned forward to close the security screen between them and the driver and switched off the intercom, a red light showing its status. He turned to Olivia as she opened her eyes and looked at him in query.

‘Tell me what she said, Livvy. No-one can hear us, it’s just us’ Olivia swallowed and turned her head to him.

‘You need to put her under maximum security’ she said, her gaze urgent ‘No contact with anyone outside, not even her lawyer. She got a message out though her before and god knows what other tricks she has up her sleeve’

‘Why Livvy, what danger does she pose? Can she have Anton wake up?’

‘No’ she said shortly. ‘Death is certain, though she couldn’t say when’

‘She said something about the end of the week’ Liam replied. He inclined his head and reached out for her hand. ‘That’s not all, is it?’ She shook her head

‘It’s only fair to tell you that she threatened to do the same to you’ Liam felt the colour drain from his face, and she made a hollow laugh ‘After all, if anything happens to you now, I become Queen’

‘You said you didn’t want that’ Liam said levelly. She tutted in exasperation

‘I don’t.’ she said, and raised her green eyes to his ‘I only want you to be happy’ He took a deep breath.

‘What if you were Queen?’ he asked ‘would she back off then?’ Olivia blinked, and stared at him.

‘What if I…’ her voice trailed off ‘I - I don’t know’ she said simply, then started again ‘What do you mean?’

‘If I made you Queen, she’d have no reason to have me assassinated’

‘I – who knows what goes on in that bitch’s mind? But Liam…’ she protested.

‘If it would put your mind at rest, stop you worrying, I’d do it’ he said ‘Why not? You can do as much or as little as you like, and we’d be together to bring up our child. When Leo abdicated, I expected to be forced into marrying Madeleine, with a Cordonian arrangement.’

‘I can’t believe you just said that’ Olivia said, aghast ‘After all we’ve been through’ She turned away from him, biting her knuckle. He was sure that if they’d not been in the limo on their way to Lythikos, she would have slapped him or stormed out.

‘Hear me out, Livvy’ he said ‘You’ve – well you’ve changed since you fell pregnant. You’re – you’re softer.’ He struggled for words. ‘I don’t look at other women the same. Or men, for that matter. You’re carrying my child. I just want to keep you both safe.’ She turned to him, fire in her eyes

‘So I’m just a human incubator to you – that’s what Lucretia said’

‘No Livvy, that’s not it’ he said ‘It’s more than that. We have a connection, always have had, but Father tried his best to break it. Now he’s gone, I realise. I’d never do anything to hurt you’ he said.

‘You say that now’ she said ‘But you have a country to run. I’ll never be more important than that’

‘Then help me to do it’ he said simply. She stared at him

‘I never wanted that’ she said ‘Leo was going to be King, and we – I always thought that we’d have some sort of relationship, even if I was just one of many’ He sighed

‘And I never expected to be King, you know that. Livvy, you and Drake are my oldest friends. It looks like Drake is involved with Riley – I don’t know how long he’ll stay. He came back from America for me, I can’t ask him to sacrifice his happiness for me’

‘And you can ask me?’ she said

‘But you said you wanted me to be happy’ he pointed out. ‘What would make me happy is to have a loving family, and we’re halfway there. Being King is – well of course it will be my duty for my country to come first – but whatever is left over is yours, and our child’s’ He smiled ‘I won’t have time for lovers, I’ve realised that.’

‘What if I want lovers?’ she said shortly. His face dropped. She felt cruel for asking him, but the question bubbled up and was out of her mouth before she could stop it – typical Nevrakis hot headedness, she told herself.

‘I would hope I would be enough – but if you did…’ he looked out of the window at the passing scenery. ‘I don’t know Livvy, it’s too early to say. Who knows what life will bring.’ She relented, taking his hand, wanting to banish the hurt in his eyes.

‘I’m sorry, that was callous of me. We should focus on the baby, and what he or she needs. I think we’ll both have enough on our plates being parents.’ She paused. ‘Liam, have you made any arrangement like this with anyone else?’ he stared at her

‘No, of course not’ he replied, shocked.

‘I have to ask. Lucretia brought it up’ His jaw tightened at her words.

‘She’s been pouring poison into your ears. Just what else did she say?’ Olivia closed her eyes in thought. She related everything to him as the limo made its way along the increasingly steep roads. Anger rose in him as he heard what the old woman thought of him.

‘I’d never take your child away from you.’ He said earnestly. ‘I’m determined not to follow my father’s example. I can have Lucretia locked away in maximum security if it would make you feel better. My feeling is that she would do anything to get you on the throne, and probably more to keep you there. I’m superfluous to her. She only cares about getting your family on the throne, with or without me.’ Olivia nodded reluctantly

‘I know. Once I was on the throne, who’s to say she wouldn’t try to have you assassinated?’

‘Livvy’ he said, taking her hand and squeezing it. ‘You know how many attempts there have been over the years. If it wasn’t her, it would be someone else. I’m still at risk no matter what. At least if she was locked away it would make it difficult for her and she’d be a known threat’ Olivia twisted her hands in her lap and sighed

‘I’m exhausted’ she said ‘I’m going to try and get some sleep. We can talk later.’

‘Okay Livvy. But I’m serious – I’d make you my Queen to make both our lives easier’  A faint smile crossed Olivia’s lips as she settled back.

‘I don’t doubt your sincerity, Liam’ she said ‘I’ll think about it’

@sirbeepsalot @stopforamoment @drakesensworld @katedrakeohd​ @texaskitten30​ @be-still-my-aching-heart @hopefulmoonobject @dcbbw @classylady1234 @rainbowsinthestorm @kimmiedoo5 @bascmve01  @ibldw-main @addictedtodrakefanfic @trappedinfandoms @ravenpuff02

[papermoonloveslucy]

IS THERE A BABY IN THE HOUSE?

November 27, 1948

“Is There A Baby In The House?” (aka “There’s A Baby In The House”) is episode #18 of the radio series MY FAVORITE HUSBAND broadcast on November 27, 1948.

Synopsis ~ Liz goes over to meet the new neighbors and winds up minding a four-month old baby overnight.

Note: This episode was aired before the characters names were changed from Cugat to Cooper. It was also before Jell-O came aboard to sponsor the show and before the regular cast featured Bea Benadaret and Gale Gordon as the Atterburys.

“My Favorite Husband” was based on the novels Mr. and Mrs. Cugat, the Record of a Happy Marriage (1940) and Outside Eden (1945) by Isabel Scott Rorick, which had previously been adapted into the film Are Husbands Necessary? (1942). “My Favorite Husband” was first broadcast as a one-time special on July 5, 1948. Lucille Ball and Lee Bowman played the characters of Liz and George Cugat, and a positive response to this broadcast convinced CBS to launch “My Favorite Husband” as a series. Bowman was not available Richard Denning was cast as George. On January 7, 1949, confusion with bandleader Xavier Cugat prompted a name change to Cooper. On this same episode Jell-O became its sponsor. A total of 124 episodes of the program aired from July 23, 1948 through March 31, 1951. After about ten episodes had been written, writers Fox and Davenport departed and three new writers took over – Bob Carroll, Jr., Madelyn Pugh, and head writer/producer Jess Oppenheimer. In March 1949 Gale Gordon took over the existing role of George’s boss, Rudolph Atterbury, and Bea Benaderet was added as his wife, Iris. CBS brought “My Favorite Husband” to television in 1953, starring Joan Caulfield and Barry Nelson as Liz and George Cooper. The television version ran two-and-a-half seasons, from September 1953 through December 1955, running concurrently with “I Love Lucy.” It was produced live at CBS Television City for most of its run, until switching to film for a truncated third season filmed (ironically) at Desilu and recasting Liz Cooper with Vanessa Brown.

MAIN CAST

Lucille Ball (Liz Cugat) was born on August 6, 1911 in Jamestown, New York. She began her screen career in 1933 and was known in Hollywood as ‘Queen of the B’s’ due to her many appearances in ‘B’ movies. “My Favorite Husband” eventually led to the creation of “I Love Lucy,” a television situation comedy in which she co-starred with her real-life husband, Latin bandleader Desi Arnaz. The program was phenomenally successful, allowing the couple to purchase what was once RKO Studios, re-naming it Desilu. When the show ended in 1960 (in an hour-long format known as “The Lucy-Desi Comedy Hour”) so did Lucy and Desi’s marriage. In 1962, hoping to keep Desilu financially solvent, Lucy returned to the sitcom format with “The Lucy Show,” which lasted six seasons. She followed that with a similar sitcom “Here’s Lucy” co-starring with her real-life children, Lucie and Desi Jr., as well as Gale Gordon, who had joined the cast of “The Lucy Show” during season two. Before her death in 1989, Lucy made one more attempt at a sitcom with “Life With Lucy,” also with Gordon.

Richard Denning (George Cugat) was born Louis Albert Heindrich Denninger Jr., in Poughkeepsie, New York. When he was 18 months old, his family moved to Los Angeles. Plans called for him to take over his father’s garment manufacturing business, but he developed an interest in acting. Denning enlisted in the US Navy during World War II. He is best known for his  roles in various science fiction and horror films of the 1950s. Although he teamed with Lucille Ball on radio in “My Favorite Husband,” the two never acted together on screen. While “I Love Lucy” was on the air, he was seen on another CBS TV series, “Mr. & Mrs. North.” From 1968 to 1980 he played the Governor on “Hawaii 5-0″, his final role. He died in 1998 at age 84.

Ruth Perrott (Katie, the Maid) was also later seen on “I Love Lucy.” She first played Mrs. Pomerantz, a member of the surprise investigating committee for the Society Matrons League in “Pioneer Women” (ILL S1;E25), as one of the member of the Wednesday Afternoon Fine Arts League in “Lucy and Ethel Buy the Same Dress” (ILL S3;E3), and also played a nurse when “Lucy Goes to the Hospital” (ILL S2;E16). She died in 1996 at the age of 96.

Bob LeMond (Announcer) also served as the announcer for the pilot episode of “I Love Lucy”. When the long-lost pilot was finally discovered in 1990, a few moments of the opening narration were damaged and lost, so LeMond – fifty years later – recreated the narration for the CBS special and subsequent DVD release.

GUEST CAST

John Hiestand (Cory Cartwright) served as the announcer for the radio show “Let George Do It” from 1946 to 1950. In 1955 he did an episode of “Our Miss Brooks” opposite Gale Gordon.

Frank Nelson (Mr. Brennan) was born on May 6, 1911 (three months before Lucille Ball) in Colorado Springs, Colorado. He started working as a radio announcer at the age of 15. He later appeared on such popular radio shows as “The Great Gildersleeve,” “Burns and Allen,” and “Fibber McGee & Molly”.  Aside from Lucille Ball, Nelson is perhaps most associated with Jack Benny and was a fifteen-year regular on his radio and television programs. His trademark was playing clerks and other working stiffs, suddenly turning to Benny with a drawn out “Yeeeeeeeeees?” Nelson appeared in 11 episodes of “I Love Lucy”, including three as quiz master Freddy Fillmore, and two as Ralph Ramsey, plus appearance on “The Lucy-Desi Comedy Hour” - making him the only actor to play two different recurring roles on “I Love Lucy.” Nelson returned to the role of the frazzled Train Conductor for an episode of “The Lucy Show” in 1963. This marks his final appearance on a Lucille Ball sitcom. 

Mary Lansing (New Neighbor, Little Stevie’s Mother) was best known for playing Martha Clark and ten other characters in Mayberry on “The Andy Griffith Show” and “Mayberry R.F.D.”, both filmed at Desilu. Lucy lovers might remember her as the voice of weepy Cynthia in “Over The Teacups”, the Broadway play that the Ricardos and Mertzes attend in “Ethel’s Birthday” (ILL S4;E9).  She met Frank Nelson performing on radio. They married in 1933 and had two children. Lansing appeared with him frequently on the “Jack Benny Program” during the 1950s.

Hans Conried (Mr. Atterbury, George’s Boss) first co-starred with Lucille Ball in The Big Street (1942). He then appeared on “I Love Lucy” as used furniture man Dan Jenkins in “Redecorating” (ILL S2;E8) and later that same season as Percy Livermore in “Lucy Hires an English Tutor” (ILL S2;E13) – both in 1952. The following year he began an association with Disney by voicing Captain Hook in Peter Pan. On “The Lucy Show” he played Professor Gitterman in “Lucy’s Barbershop Quartet” (TLS S1;E19) and in “Lucy Plays Cleopatra” (TLS S2;E1). He was probably best known as Uncle Tonoose on “Make Room for Daddy” starring Danny Thomas, which was filmed on the Desilu lot. He joined Thomas on a season 6 episode of “Here’s Lucy” in 1973. He died in 1982 at age 64.  

In a few months, the role of Mr. Atterbury will be assumed by Gale Gordon.

Jean Vander Pyl (Stevie the Baby) is best known as the voice of Wilma Flintstone for the Hanna-Barbera cartoon “The Flintstones.” Coincidentally, Wilma’s best friend was voiced by Bea Benadaret, who will later play Iris Atterbury, Liz’s best friend on “My Favorite Husband.” On radio she was heard on such programs as “The Halls of Ivy” (1950–52) and on “Father Knows Best” before it moved to TV.  She died in 1999 at age 79.

Doing baby voices was something that Vander Pyl would also do on “The Flintstones” where she did the voice of her own daughter, Pebbles. 

EPISODE

ANNOUNCER: “As we look in on the Cugats this morning something new has been added. There’s a moving van in front of the house next door, but of course the new neighbors don’t interest Liz Cugat in the least!”

Liz is peering through the front window at the goings on next door using George’s binoculars.  George gets interested only when she sees fishing and hunting equipment being unloaded.  

In “New Neighbors” (ILL S1;E21) in 1952, Lucy and Ethel watch new tenants the O’Briens move in using Ricky’s binoculars. Like Liz, Lucy mistakes a bug on the lens for the new neighbor!  Unlike George, it is blonde, shapely Mrs. O’Brien who gets Ricky and Fred interested, not sporting equipment.

Cory Cartwright (John Hiestand) drops by for a rare early morning visit. He’s come by to tell George that he is to be the trustee of his mother’s club, who helps an orphan home with 130 children.  George makes Liz promise not to go next door and bother the new neighbors while he is at work. 

Liz and Katie spend two hours washing windows while spying on the movers. Liz says they moved in a lot of junk.

KATIE: “With women who know junk best, it’s Mrs. Cugat two to one!”

Katie is sarcastically paraphrasing a popular ad slogan of the 1930s and ‘40s for Lucky Strike Cigarettes: “With men who know tobacco best, it’s Luckies 2 to 1″. 

Liz wildly figures that if she doesn’t go over and visit the new neighbor she may lonely, take to brooding, become moody and despondent and turn on the gas. Liz rushes off to save her life!  

Liz visits the new neighbor (Mary Lansing), who compliments Liz on having two such industrious maids - the ones who spent the two hours cleaning the same window!  Before Liz leaves, the woman asks her to babysit with her four month old son, Stevie (Jean Vander Pyl), while she runs an errand. 

George comes home early while Liz is still watching the baby, so she tells Katie to take him into the den. George hears the baby crying and goes into the den to see for himself and demands to know who it belongs to.

LIZ: “You wouldn’t believe it’s mine, would you?” GEORGE: “No!”  LIZ: “Princess Elizabeth’s?” 

When Britain’s Queen Elizabeth II was still Princess Elizabeth, she gave birth to Prince Charles, who was born on November 14, 1948, two weeks before this broadcast. Princess Elizabeth became Queen upon the death of her father, George VI in February 1952.  Lucy Ricardo performed for her in “Lucy Meets The Queen” (ILL S5;E15) in January 1956. Naturally, the monarch remained off camera. 

Liz admits that the child belongs to their new neighbor. Just then the telephone rings and Liz leaves George with the baby to answer it.  George tries to distract the child with his pocketwatch, which Stevie promptly breaks. Liz returns to report that Stevie’s mother is delayed and they have to watch the child overnight!

~END OF ACT ONE~

A patriotic public service announcement details how the US Air Force helped a Spanish town remove a precariously tottering statue from a high building.

ANNOUNCER: “And now, let’s go back to Liz and George Cugat and see how they are getting along with the baby.” 

In the kitchen, Liz and George are trying to figure out how to feed the baby, not remembering the exact formula. They decide to feed him cereal, instead. 

LIZ: “Now which kind do you think he’ll like best? Corn Flakes or Post Toasties?  Here’s a good one: Grape-Nuts!” 

Post Toasties was a breakfast cereal made by Post Foods as the Post version of Kellogg’s popular Corn Flakes. They were discontinued as of August 2016, although Kellogg’s Corn Flakes are still going strong. Post also made Grape- Nuts, initially marketed as a natural cereal that could enhance health and vitality. It is still sold today.  

George thinks they should just feed him baby oil, but Liz correct him that baby oil is not for drinking, but for frying the cereal!  They resort to canned baby food, but think it is spoiled because it is all mushy.  They settle on milk, but can’t find the nipples, so Liz decides to cut the fingers off a rubber glove instead. 

The baby cries all night long. Liz picks him up every time he cries, but as soon as she puts him down, he cries again. 

GEORGE: “I know how to make him sleep: ‘Rock-a-bye Baby’. Wait here and I’ll go get a great big rock.” LIZ: “George!!!” 

Liz realizes that the baby can’t sleep because she didn’t burp him. After a few pats on the back, Stevie burps.

LIZ: “Isn’t that cute?” GEORGE: “Cute? When he does it it’s cute. When I do it it’s vulgar!” 

At the bank the next day, Mr. Atterbury (Hans Conried) calls a sleep-deprived George into his office. He tells George that Mr. Brennan, the man from the Orphans Home, is reluctant to make George trustee because he has no children.  Mr. Atterbury comes up with a plan. George must rush home to meet Mr. Brennan and pretend that the neighbor’s baby is his own! 

Mr. Brennan (Frank Nelson) arrives at the Cugat’s door just as George comes tearing up the walk to warn Liz of the scheme. George gets Liz into the kitchen to fill her in on the plan, but Liz has already given the baby back to his mother. George tells her to get that baby back! 

Liz dashes out the back door, tearing her dress on a branch, and stepping in a puddle.  Stevie’s mother asks her husband was was going into her house and Liz realizes that Mr. Brennan is the new neighbor and that Stevie is his son. Liz grabs the baby and rushes back home in shambles, hoping that Mr. Brennan will not notice.  

But Mr. Brennan sees a resemblance between the two babies and heads home and get his son to compare the two. Liz rush through the back door to return the baby before he can get there. On the way back Liz tears her dress on a nail, falls in a puddle and gets back just in time to find Mr. Brennan at the door without his son! 

MR. BRENNAN: “When I got home and took a good look at him I could see: they don’t look alike at all!” 

Later, Liz goes to see Mr. Brennan to tell him how wonderful her favorite husband is and Brennan gives George the job as trustee. He asks one favor, however - that they babysit Little Stevie.

GEORGE: “Not tonight!” LIZ: “No, not tonight. For the whole weekend. Goodnight, George!” 

~ END OF EPISODE ~