#treating diabled people with respect

[lelibug]

How NOT To Deal With Disabled People When They Are Your “Customers/Clients”...

BLOG | How NOT To Deal With Disabled People... | delphinemusic Feeling unwelcomed, humoured, judged for #disabilities in dog adoption... #Disabled #disabilityAwareness #Autistic #PetAdoption #rehomed #dog

And Just Like Little Doggy, most of all… We just want to be seen. My family and I have been visiting a few times with the view of possibly adopting one of the dogs, from a Charity Rescue Rehoming Shelter. Little Doggy is gorgeous, adorable, unique and very special. Today we went with the hope of spending time with her, and we were offered the opportunity to interact with her in The Bunker (this…

[steelbluehome]

Please understand that people are first disabled. Then it is either the disability, or the meds prescribed for the disability, or both, which causes them to gain weight. So when you see a severely overweight person using a handicapped parking space, the handicapped stall in the restroom, the motorized shopping cart, or the wheelchair provided by a destination that requires a lot of walking (zoo, huge store, museum, etc.) do not think that they are only using it because they are "so fat". And for God's sake don't say it out loud just to embarrass the person!

There is nothing wrong with being fat. All bodies are beautiful, and people should be able to use whatever mobility aids they need without public humiliation. But most fat people are perfectly healthy and can walk unaided. If someone needs to use things provided for disabled people, they have a disability. Just treat everyone with respect, and do not deprive them of their dignity. It's totally free, and takes no effort physically. I know you can do it. Most people do it for people who are noticeably disabled all of the time.

[cripplecharacters]

Hello, I'm working on a project where the main character uses on and off a cane because of fluctuating level of chronic pain. They start using it more because using magic makes it worse, and another character that is important to the main character has a similar disability and help them, but the other one has unconcious biases. The mentor need to work on himself since when he figured out that MC has chronic pain he start training them differently without asking them, I was wondering how I could broach the subject of that mentor and his biases so that he can grow from them since I want to kind of represent the current society biases on visible disability.

So basically, what are some of the key points I should be careful of?

Anon Astro

Hello,

First, just please be careful about exactly why his magic makes his pain worse. It sounds like his magic didn't cause his chronic pain, which is good. How does the use of magic make his chronic pain worse? Is it more like overdoing it and having a bad pain day? Because that sounds fine. If his magic is slowly destroying his body the more he uses it (actively destroying his body, such as wasting his muscles) and making his disability worse by completely changing, worsening, or adding to it, that's getting into dodgy "might accidentally be disability as punishment if you word it the wrong way" territory and it might be best to rework that.

As for the unconscious bias that the mentor works on, it sounds like you're handling that respectively. Maybe the character realizes that his mentor is treating him differently, more delicately, and it eventually (or quickly) irritates him into snapping. He should be the one to decide his limits and if the training routine needs to change, he deserves to at least be consulted on it so that he can make a choice rather than having someone else take away his autonomy by deciding they know his body better than him, the one who lives in it. Maybe he would rather someone ask to help him rather than force something that might not be helpful on him without him knowing, and maybe he was doing perfectly fine and so could his mentor not do this?

The main character should make the rules when it comes to his own body. That's what usually gets people to stop arguing my point when I have this kind of conversation with them. My body, my choice and all of that. Making them think of my informed choice in the context of consent is usually a great way to get them to come around. And then, once the mentor realizes that the main does deserve to make his own choices about what's best for him, it would be absolutely fantastic if the mentor were to apologize for overstepping. Because gods know that rarely happens in both fiction and in real life.

Moving forward, they'll probably have a talk about communicating. Maybe they come to an agreement that the mentor will talk to the main before "helping" him and the main will make sure to tell the mentor if he needs something changed, needs to stop or take a break, or can't do something today. If the training needs modified, it would be nice to see them work on that together, communicating and listening.

As for what to not do, please don't make him seem demanding or mean for wanting to have a say in his own life. So many people act like diabled people are being entitled or ungrateful when we turn down help we don't need and it's infuriating. He's well within his rights to make his own decisions. Even if he does get a bit pissed during the argument, he's within his right to do that. Please don't portray him as some entitled, ungrateful brat for it. Consent, no matter the form, is extremely important and he has a right to ask for people to not make decisions for him without consulting him.

It sounds like you're on the right track with this.

Mod Aaron

[rametarin]

Can I just gush about how good this is?

I was rushed and smashed by this crap in my single digits back in the mid-80s/early 90s and absolutely hated this. Lacking internet connection meant my lack of a wide variety of contacts was a liability vs. what amounted to a mob of gaslighting, manipulative, faux-progressive people that sauntered around like they were king shit and had the moral highground on everything since their group claimed to speak for all the “oppressed minorities,” on behalf of them.

Not being a minority in those situations means not only will they disqualify your points or arguments, they’ll condescend to you and treat you like Generic Naysaying Racist #1903877 in some kids movie about racism.

The internet has made it possible for the Japanese to do shit like respond in real time like, “That singer you’re badmouthing isn’t racist for wearing a fucking kimono during her performance. How dare you.” When in decades passed it would’ve just been seen as hindsight news taking place internationally. Where the grassroots can weigh in without the need of a representative to interpret the will of the people and their thoughts and feelings.

This means that the self-important, manipulative fucks that have taken the moral high ground and imposed themselves with the “responsibility” (privilege) of being the designated speakers for diabled, LGBT and non-whites in white majority countries, have less power and less say. Less legitimacy. And more people actually overriding their power structure, from inside their own respective demographics.

In the past because people were less connected, they were more inclined to believe the broadbrush, “all white people are racist/all men are misogynist” crap, and take it at face value. This thought destroying cliche machine is being rebuked and the creators (and their subsequent bias) no longer have the omniscience they require to dominate the conversation.

And that ultimately translates to the public not just blindly accepting, “book about MINORITIES doing STUFF” as some step in the right direction. No matter how much they sweep the last century of literature and media under the rug, they can’t make it seem like civil rights and rep have been frozen since the 1950s.

It’s becoming understood globally that these people are charlatans and it’s a singular conversation understood across thousands of respective unique populations. Rather than be faced with the crushing, horrifying knowledge that you could explain this shit to someone new to the conversation of social justice and bigotry and have to deal with being misunderstood as a conspiracy theory or just a bitter bigot for opposing the Good People Group.

I hate the trend of just describing books with what minorities the main characters represent and nothing else. not only does it feel weird + exploitative to me it's also such a shoddy ineffective marketing technique. "this is my book with queer polyam disabled vampires you should buy it" ok great but what is it like. about. what are the themes. why should I read it

[infinitelytheheartexpands]

My Personal Opinions on Some French Grand Opéras

Here we go. I’ll be focusing solely on pieces in what’s widely considered the “Golden Age” of grand opéra (from 1828 to about 1870).

1828, Auber: La muette de Portici: never seen or heard so I cannot comment, but I do think it slaps that it helped start both the Belgian Revolution and the genre of grand opéra.

1829, Rossini: Guillaume Tell: I love this one. it’s one of the few grand opéras that has a happy ending and it’s fully deserved. it’s long but it all has a point-- the first act introduces us to the community spirit that drives the rest of the action; even though it’s called Guillaume Tell, it’s not just about Guillaume Tell. it’s about a whole movement coming together, with all these vividly-drawn people of different social statuses, ages, heritages, and livelihoods coming together to do good in the world in the face of oppression. also it’s Rossini so it bops start to finish. the finale is one of opera’s best. I could not have higher praise and admiration for this piece.

1831, Meyerbeer: Robert le diable: another rare case of a grand opéra with a happy ending, but it feels a bit more contrived, something I wrote about when I watched it about a year ago for the first time. it’s quite a clever ending, however, and I love that these lovely characters get a happy ending. Robert is the least interesting principal character both musically and dramatically; the musical highlights of the show are mostly Bertram and Isabelle’s big scenes. the former is also arguably grand opéra’s most exciting ballet sequence, the Act III ballet of the nuns (or as I like to call it, the Zombie Nun Ballet). it’s long but it is incredibly worth it. overall, I really do enjoy this opera although it is very much an uneven piece.

1833, Auber: Gustave III, ou le bal masqué: here’s a thing I wrote about it like 3 months ago and I stand by every word.

1835, Halévy: La juive: It’s damn near impossible to find an even remotely close to complete recording. However, what the recordings have is excellent. The score is marvelous all the way through, although for the most part I tend to prefer the ensembles to the arias (the exception, of course, being Éléazar’s 11 o’clock number). Speaking of Éléazar, he’s an extremely complicated and frankly uncomfortable character, toeing the line between being one of opera’s most complex characters, an even more complicated proto-gender-swapped-Azucena if you will, and being an unfortunate vessel of antisemitic stereotypes. This is made even more complicated because Halévy was an assimilated Jewish composer. On the whole, Rachel is the only wholly sympathetic character in the piece, although all five of the principals are lovingly scored. 

1836, Meyerbeer: Les Huguenots: *holds things in because otherwise I would write an entire essay about this opera and you all know that because I have done that several times* Both a great strength and a great weakness of this piece is its sheer wide-ranging-ness, particularly in terms of mood. Unlike, say, La juive, this opera does not have one overall mood, instead steadily progressing from bright, brilliant comedy to one of the most horrifying endings in opera. Dramatically, this is great for the most part, although the sheer amount of exposition in the first two acts may take getting used to. Just as the drama gets more intense and concentrated as the opera goes on, the music gets more intense- and frankly, more often than not better- as the opera goes on. The window/misunderstood engagement business is something I still struggle to see the exact dramatic purpose of, because I think the question of religious difference would likely be enough to separate Raoul and Valentine at the beginning anyway; to me, it feels like Scribe and Deschamps were struggling to find a way to integrate Nevers into the story, as he is crucial to the opera’s lessons about love and tolerance, so they stuck in a quasi-love-triangle in order to justify his presence earlier on. (Also, for goodness sake, could you at least have given him an onstage death scene?) Anyway, in this way the story can be a bit unwieldy and uneven at first, but stay the course with this one...and even a lot of the first couple of acts are wonderful. The characters are all wonderfully written if rather episodic in many cases, but this opera is ambitious and by the end, it’ll tear your heart to shreds. It’s amazing. Uneven, yes, but amazing nonetheless, and I will defend it to the death.

1840, Donizetti: La favorite: I’m not as familiar with La favorite as with some of the others on this list (I’ve seen two different productions once each and I have a recording of it saved to my Spotify library that I listen to bits and pieces of very occasionally) but I do think it’s an excellent piece overall. LÉONOR DESERVED SO MUCH BETTER. The music is lovely all around; I know Donizetti wrote at least one other grand opéra in full and part of another, both of which I need to check out because in its own way, Donizetti’s style works wonderfully with grand opéra.

1841: Halévy, La reine de Chypre: here is a post I wrote about La reine de Chypre. basically all my thoughts remain the same except I have to add: Halévy as a whole just needs more love. there’s a few other of his operas I have waiting (a recording of Le dilettante d’Avignon that has been sitting in my Spotify for who knows how long and a film of Clari with Bartoli and Osborn I’m also sitting on) but there are so many pieces that sound fascinating but have basically ZILCH in terms of recordings.

1849, Meyerbeer: Le prophète: before I say anything else about this opera, I need to ask a burning question: WHY THE HELL IS THERE ONLY ONE GOOD VIDEO RECORDING OF THIS OPERA?!?! on the one hand, I adore the Osborn/Aldrich/Fomina production; on the other, I would also like other productions, please. anyway, I said one time in the opera Discord that while Les Huguenots will probably always be my favorite Meyerbeer opera for an array of reasons, this one is definitely Meyerbeer, Scribe, and Deschamps’ strongest work. it is both unusually dark and unusually believable for an opera of its time—and the fact that it still holds up so well is disturbing to say the least. this opera thrives on complexity in all forms and yet has probably (and paradoxically) the simplest plot to follow of the four Meyerbeer grand opéras. the score is brilliant start to finish, mixing the best of bel canto, Romanticism, and something altogether darker, stranger, and more original. definitely one of the most underrated operas ever. the aforementioned production is on YouTube with French subtitles; give it a watch here.

1855, Verdi: Les vêpres siciliennes: Vêpres is an opera I love dearly although I have yet to find a production that is completely satisfying. I think it’s because this opera is a lot deeper, a lot more complex, and a lot more troubling, frankly, than people are willing to go. also it should be performed bilingually and I am dead-set on this: the dissonance of an opera about French capture of Italian land being sung entirely in either French or Italian is always a little off at least (and also part of the reason why my brain probably adjusted to hearing this opera in either language better than, say, Don Carlos). but anyway, neither side comes off particularly well here, particularly due to the violence and sexual assault on both sides of the equation: both Montfort and Procida are heavily in the wrong, and while Verdi sympathizes with both for personal reasons (Verdian Dad in the former case, Italian Liberator in the latter), there is a lot of troubling stuff in here. nevertheless, the music bops, the story is intriguing, and I think we can all agree that Henri and Hélène both deserved better, especially considering how close they got to bliss (although I think we can also all agree that the end of Act IV twist to almost-rom-com is pretty abrupt).

1863 (full opera: 1890), Berlioz: Les Troyens: I wrote this review of Troyens after watching it in the Châtelet 2003 production in December 2019 (first time ever watching it) and I still stand by just about every word. Such a fascinating opera, great adaptation of the first few books of the Aeneid, marvelous score (of course, it’s Berlioz!)...but could there be a ballet or two fewer, Berlioz? Or at least shorten them up? And that’s coming from someone who likes ballet. But anyway, in every other respect it’s absolutely marvelous. Some people say it’s the greatest French opera ever, and while I hesitate to say that, it comes pretty damn near close.

1865, Meyerbeer: L’Africaine (Vasco de Gama): Vasco da Gama/L’Africaine is even more troubling—much more troubling—of an opera than Vêpres to me and I wrote a whole thing here as to why. I still stand by most of it, although upon reflection, I feel like the ending that drove me so crazy has virtually the exact same idea behind it as the end of Troyens/Book IV of the Aeneid: empire has consequences and those consequences hurt real people, who, though different and not among those perceived as “heroic”, are worthy of being treated as human, not being collateral damage. (I’ve written at least two essays about this for different classes, both specifically in regards to the Aeneid.) It may be time to revisit this one. The score is lovely, after all, although it didn’t stand out to me as much as others by Meyerbeer.

1867, Verdi: Don Carlos: *holds myself back from writing a 10-page essay* y’all, there is a reason that when someone asks me what my favorite opera is, I always choose this one even though I’m horrible at favorites questions. it’s Verdi, grand opéra, romantic drama (SO MUCH romantic drama and SO MUCH gay), political drama, religious/social struggle, personal struggle, social commentary, spectacle, intimacy, masterful characterization all in one. what more could you want? I first saw/heard this opera in Italian long before I did in French, so my brain is more hardwired to hearing the Italian but both are good. my motto is “Italian or French, I don’t care, but Fontainebleau has to be there.” fuck the four-act version. I mean, I will watch four-act versions but five-act versions are just superior. I’d prefer uncut performances (the first part of the garden, the Lacrimosa, the extended opening and ending), but these aren’t dealbreakers for me. it’s the perfect synthesis of Verdi and grand opéra, much less unwieldy than Vêpres (as much I love that one), both musically and dramatically.

1868, Thomas: Hamlet: Part of me wishes this was more faithful to the actual source play (why??? the??? fuck??? does??? Hamlet??? live??? although there are alternate endings), but part of me also realizes that the play is already four hours long as is and singing it plus ballet would make it WAY too fucking long. This does a pretty respectable job. The music is gorgeous, by turns almost sugary-sweet and thrillingly ominous. The Murder of Gonzago scene is an absolute masterpiece. The Mad Scene is justifiably one of opera’s best (although I’m not sure it was a good idea to have that and a frequently-cut 20-minute ballet with no relation whatsoever to the main plot to make up all of Act IV). There are a lot of bops in this one. The four principals are closely followed and still very well-drawn. Both of the stagings I have seen were excellent. An underrated opera.

1869 (grand opéra version), Gounod: Faust: Another of my absolute favorite operas. Since this existed for a decade before its transformation into the grand opéra we all know and love, I won’t comment much about its actual format and adherence to grand opéra tropes aside from saying the Walpurgisnacht ballet is one of grand opéra’s best and extremely good at giving off Vibes TM. I used to hate how the character of Faust was written and thought he was incredibly boring. Not anymore (although of course, I still hate him as a person. fuck him tbh). This opera has a reputation for being saccharine and old-fashioned and I think that’s a bunch of garbage right there. It’s about the search for eternal youth and the expectations of conforming to social values and people’s struggles with themselves when a) they “fall short” and b) when the world ostracizes them for being “different” and “out of line”. I am also firmly convinced that Marguerite is the real protagonist of Faust (like how I’m convinced that Valentine is the protagonist of Les Huguenots if there even is a singular protagonist in that opera but I digress). The music slaps. People need to stop cutting whole scenes out of this. I’m still undecided on the order of the church and square scenes of Act IV. Marguerite and Siébel just need everything good in this world.

Anyway, those are my two cents! I tried to keep these pretty short, so if y’all want any follow-ups, let me know!

[sassypantsjaxon]

My gift for @niutellat for the week of hetalia gift exchange! Fruk! With a hint of FACE family and a side of (kind of) rusame! Happy holidays!

The rise of King Henry the ninth has seen with it the rise of the second British empire. Which had then in turn declared war on the Republic of France. France was told to surrender or face the consequences. Francis Bonnefoy chose the consequences.

... “Ah, you look wonderful.” The French president told his country. Francis preened in front of a mirror, straightening his tie and fluffing his curls. “One must always look their best when meeting their opponent.” “Even when the circumstances aren’t in their favor?” Francis glared at him. “Especially then.” “I’m glad you’re in such high spirits. It will convince that treacherous king that we aren’t defeated.” “Free France will never fall again. Not as long as I’m around.”

... “On this day, the Republic of France offers their unconditional surrender to the United Kingdom of Great Britain and Northern Ireland.” Francis Bonnefoy silently stood by as his president condemned him to a life as England’s prisoner. Francis Bonnefoy chose the consequences, but his president chose to surrender.

---

“You lied to me!” Francis hissed when he and his president were alone again. “You said we weren't defeated! You agreed that we wouldn't fall! And you sold us out.” Francis glared at him coldly. “I don't know how you were ever put in power, but you never will be again.”

“France.” Francis turned to find Arthur standing in the doorway. “It's time to go.”

“Go where? This is still my home.” Francis declared proudly.

“But it's my land. You belong to me, and as such, you belong in London.”

“As a trophy in your case?”

“As British property.”

“No.”

“France-”

“Don't lie to me. I remember your colonies, you only brought them to London when you wanted to show off. I'm just another prize to you, don't humiliate me by saying otherwise.”

Arthur sighed. “Nevertheless, you will be coming with me.”

“It isn't a choice,” the president reminded him.

Francis glared at him again. “Traitor,” he spat.

---

“As out first addition, you could almost be counted as an ally,” Henry said. “So we'd like to extend an offer. Before the surrender becomes public information.”

“A marriage of sorts between our two countries,” Arthur continued. “The Anglo-French Union.” He paced in front of Francis. “That's what we'll call it. What do you think?”

“Va au diable.”

Henry slapped Francis. “You are a guest here,” he hissed a reminder.  “I could have locked you in the prisons. But, out of my gracious benevolence, you have been allowed to live in luxury. And because I have granted you this, you will treat me with respect. You will speak English from now on. Am I understood?”

Francis gritted his teeth. “Yes,” he growled.

Henry sniffed derisively before turning away. He stopped next to Arthur. “I expect he'll be fully under your control by the time of the ceremony.” He left without another word.

Arthur hurried over, reaching for Francis. “Are you all right?”

Francis pushed him away. “You can still go to hell.” He spat at Arthur's feet. “I don't want to see you.” He went to the door, intending to return to his room.

“Francis.” Arthur's voice stopped him. “You know you don't have a choice in this; you should stop fighting. It will hurt less.”

“I don't care how much it hurts, I swore I would never be anyone's prisoner again. No matter how luxurious, this is still my jail cell.”

---

Francis looked around the dinner hall where the other nation representatives were gathered to celebrate. If you could call it that. Everyone was rather subdued, wondering who would be conquered next. For that reason, some neighbors had declined the invitation.

France and England were officially united, making Arthur his husband. Yet he was nowhere to be found. Francis hadn't seen him since the end of the ceremony. “How are you doing?” A soft voice at his side asked.

Francis glanced at Matthew. “Furious. He couldn't even be bothered to attend his own wedding reception.”

“You look like you could use a drink.” Matthew gently took his elbow. “Come on.”

“This isn't how I ever imagined my wedding. It was supposed to be a real celebration. Between two people who loved each other, surrounded by everyone else they love. But look at me now.”

“Then again, maybe you've had enough to drink.” Matthew sighed. “I'm sorry you're not happy.”

“I wish Antonio were here, he could make me smile.”

“Gilbert's here.”

Francis shook his head. “No, Germany’s declared war on England, and therefore France.”

“Yes, but you're Gilbert and Francis.”

“I'd rather have the drink.”

Matthew sighed before leaving to get him a glass of champagne. He brought Alfred back with it. “Look who I found,” he proudly declared.

“Alfred.” Francis stood to greet him. “How have you been?”

“Oh, I'm great. Things are great at home, relations are great with Russia, England's leaving me alone-” he stopped when Matthew kicked him under the table. “Relations are great with Russia.”

Francis chose to ignore the accidental comment. “With Ivan too? Or just Russia?”

Alfred suddenly became very interested in his champagne glass. “Oh, you know…” he trailed off before abruptly changing the topic, “I haven't seen Arthur here.”

“Join the club,” Francis griped. “Went off with King Henry.” He made an undignified sound in the back of his throat.

“Well, I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but I'm afraid your marriage is off to a bad start if your husband is already running away with another man.”

Francis rolled his eyes. “I wish that was the only thing that was wrong.”

“Weeeeell,” Alfred looked around for an excuse to leave. “Oh look, there's Ivan, I'm going to go… talk to him.” He quickly stood up and left.

Francis sighed, pushing his hair away from his face.

Matthew reached over and took his hand sympathetically. “How are you? Really?”

“Honestly? I'm tired.”

“I know it's hard,” Matthew comforted him, gently patting his hand. “I know you don't even like him-”

Francis shook his head. “No, it's worse than that.”

“Worse-”

“I love him.”

Matthew slowly exhaled. “Oh. Does he-”

“No.”

“You could at least let me finish.” Matthew tried to joke.

“The answer would still be no. No, he doesn't know. No, he doesn't love me. This truly feels like a fate worse than death.”

“I think you're being at least a little over dramatic. But I'm sorry about all this.” Matthew rose and kissed Francis’ cheek, “I’m afraid I have to go now, tend to my own diplomatic affairs. I'll see you later, I'm sure.”

Francis squeezed his hand. “Thank you, Matthew.”

---

It wasn't until Francis had visited with all the countries who didn't hate him, all the ones who did hate Arthur, and anyone who didn't hate France and/or England (and some who did) as well as drink a considerable amount of wine, that Arthur finally found him.

“Oh, Arthur! There you are! I'm very mad at you,” Francis giggled. “But I can't remember why. Arthur, why am I mad at you?”

“I haven't the faintest idea. How much have you had?” Arthur took Francis’ half-full glass and set it on a table. “More than enough, at any rate. Come along.”

“Where are we going?” Francis tripped after him.

“You're going to bed.”

“Ohhh, this is my favorite part of getting married.”

Arthur smiled. “I'm sure it is.” He quietly led Francis out of one of the room’s side doors and into an elevator.

“What about everyone else?”

“They're not joining us.”

“I know that.” Francis laughed, “This isn't the middle ages. But what are they going to do?”

“I imagine they'll keep partying until they're more drunk than you are.” He glanced over at Francis. “Or at least as much. Come on.” He pulled Francis into his room.

“This is the same room I've been in,” Francis slurred, sliding his arms around Arthur's neck. “Shouldn't we have some sort of honeymoon suite?”

“No.” Arthur detached Francis’ arms from his neck, then removed Francis’ coat. “Sit down.” He waited for Francis to comply and then took off his shoes. “Get some sleep.” He turned to leave.

“Where are you going?” Francis reached for him.

“Back to my own room. Oh, and Francis?”

“Yes?” Francis sat up hopefully.

“You've been speaking French. I hope it's only because you're drunk. You'll need to be speaking the King’s by morning.” Arthur turned off the light as he left, leaving Francis alone with the darkness and his thoughts.

Francis didn't mind, it just meant he didn't have to hide his tears.

---

Arthur didn't return to his own room yet, deciding instead he should return to his office and finish some paperwork. He hoped to be left alone for the rest of the night. Those plans were ruined by his discovery of Alfred kissing Ivan in front of his door.

Arthur sighed loudly, trying to get their attention, and then clearing his throat when that didn't work.

Alfred quickly pushed Ivan away, “No, I don't want to become one with you!” he exclaimed, “Go away.”

Ivan chuckled and leaned over to whisper something in Alfred's ear before walking back towards the party.

“No one really cares what you and Ivan do,” Arthur brushed past Alfred to unlock his door. “Well, maybe your bosses would. But no one here.”

“Right.” Alfred made to follow Ivan, “Oh! Francis was looking for you earlier!”

“Yes, I took him upstairs.”

“Then shouldn't you be with him? Or did you need a condom?”

Arthur glared at him.

Alfred shrugged, “Just saying.”

“Don't you have a boyfriend to snog?”

“No.” Alfred was silent long enough Arthur almost thought he was alone. “What's he like?”

“Francis? Same as ever, except now I'm stuck with him. You know what he's like.”

“Henry.” Alfred corrected him.

“He's…” Arthur sighed, “He's my boss. He's running me ragged, if it's not war and strategy and conquering, it's the paperwork he doesn't want to do himself.”

“How does he feel about Francis?”

“The Republic of France is the crowning jewel in the Great and Glorious Second British Empire,” Arthur recited. “But he hates Francis.”

“How do you feel about Francis?”

“Alfred, I'm too sober for this conversation.”

“So where were you during the party? Everybody was wondering.”

“Just watching. Away from it all.”

Asked shook his head, “Nuh-uh, that's only an option when you're not directly related to it. Your King’s not stopping at France, you need to be there for these kinds of ceremonies.”

“I know. I will be next time. But… Francis. This one's just too personal.”

“Then how do you think he felt? All alone up there, everybody watching him. Half of them are just waiting for him to fall now that he's part of you. The other half are wondering how you got him to roll over so easily. He didn't choose this this.”

“Neither did I!” Arthur snapped. He sighed, “I'm sorry.”

“S’okay. But you need to take care of him now.”

“Alfred, please go back to the party. Dance with Ivan. Get drunk on my behalf. Just have some fun.”

Alfred nodded, “Good luck with Francis.”

Arthur sighed, leaning against his door, knowing Alfred was right. Wishing he didn't feel so guilty.

---

Francis had been invited to dine with the king numerous times since being brought to England. Although the king still made him uncomfortable, Arthur had always been there with him. So Francis wasn't concerned when, for the first time since the union, he received a summons to join the king for lunch.

“Will Arthur be joining us soon?” Francis asked as he sat down to lunch. This was the first time he arrived before the other man.

Henry looked over at him. “England will not be here today.”

Francis’s stomach dropped. He had never been alone with the king, nor had he been able to shake the feeling that this king Henry was just as crazy as his predecessors. “Was he terribly busy? As a part of this union, I'm sure I could help him.”

“I don't believe that's a good idea.”

Francis nodded, hoping that would be the end of it.

“Because there is always the chance you would betray me,” Henry continued. “Besides, you know you're just here to show what the British empire is capable of. Bringing down the Republic of France in a humiliating defeat. Did you even try?”

Francis chose to drink his tea instead of answering.

“Of course, that was just the beginning. Tell me, how was your wedding night?”

The abrupt change of topic almost made Francis suspect the two questions really were connected.

“Fine.”

“Just fine? Pretend I'm one of your friends, what would you tell me then?”

“There's nothing to tell,” Francis bristled. “He put me to bed and then left.”

There was a long silence while Francis finished his tea before realizing the king was angrily staring at him.

“You mean to tell me the marriage was not consummated?”

“I don't believe that's your business,” Francis snapped.

---

Arthur glanced at the clock, wondering if it would be a good time to visit Francis.  He hasn't been able to see the other man since the night of their union, and felt bad about ignoring him in that way. He wanted to see him, talk about...things.

His thoughts were interrupted by the door to his office being thrown open by the king, who was dragging Francis by the hair. Arthur stood up as Henry threw Francis to the floor. Knowing the king the way he did, it would be a miracle if that was all Francis had been subjected to.

Henry stepped over Francis, who was gasping for air and looked like he was trying not to cry.

“Arthur. A word?” He came around to Arthur's side of the desk. “Now, my understanding is that the United Kingdom of Great Britain and Northern Ireland was united with the Republic of France, making Arthur Kirkland married to Francis Bonnefoy, correct?”

Arthur looked over at Francis, who hadn't moved, and back to Henry, wondering exactly what had happened. “Yes.”

“And, as the sovereign kingdom, you should be in charge. Your husband should be completely obedient to you, correct?”

This time Arthur could tell it wasn't really meant to be a question.

“Correct?” Henry repeated.

Arthur decided to try and placate him by giving him the answer he wanted. “Yes.”

“Then why was he able to refuse to consummate your union?”

Arthur shook his head. “He didn't refuse, that was my choice. He was drunk, he wasn't thinking straight. I wasn't going to have him accusing me of violating him.”

“He belongs to you,” Henry hissed, stepping closer. “He deserves anything that happens to him, as far as I'm concerned.”

Arthur looked past him to where Francis was still huddled on the floor. “Not this.” He walked around to Francis, reaching down to pull him up. Francis tried to push him away, but Arthur ignored him and picked him up anyway.

“Come on,” he whispered, gently leading him away. “Let's get you cleaned up.”

---

The two walked in silence, Arthur never letting go of Francis’ arm, Francis never looking up from his shoes. Rather than returning Francis to his apartment, Arthur brought him to his own.

Arthur gently sat Francis on the edge of his bathtub and pushed the tangle of his long hair away from his face. The other man’s eyes were red and his lip was bleeding. Arthur soaked a washcloth in warm water before using it to wipe Francis’ face.

“Shh, it’s all right,” he soothed. “You're safe now.”

Francis sobbed. “He’s-”

“You don't need to tell me, I know what he's like. I'm sorry.”

“You should have warned me!”

“I know.” Arthur distracted himself with rewetting the washcloth so he wouldn't have to look at Francis. “I thought I could protect you.”

“Protect me?” Francis scoffed. “You leave me for days on end!”

“I...had hoped he would leave you alone.”

“...Sometimes I really hate you.”

“Sometimes I really hate myself too.” He carefully pulled Francis back to his feet, and led him back to the bedroom. “Here, I want you to lie down. I have some business I need to finish, but I'll return in a few hours.”

“Does any of that business have to do with Henry?”

“It always has to do with him.” Arthur sighed, shaking his head. “I need to go. You'll be safe here, I promise.”

“Arthur? Even if your king is-” Francis hesitated. “Just… Don't lose yourself.”

Arthur smiled. “And if I did, would you come find me?”

“Yes.” Francis promised.

“Get some rest,” Arthur sighed. “I'll be back later.”

---

Francis was woken by the sound of something crashing, followed shortly by Arthur swearing. He looked up at Francis. “Sorry, didn't mean to wake you.”

Francis managed to laugh a little.

“I brought some dinner.” Arthur held up the tray.

“Anything good?”

He looked down at the plates. “There's some cake. That I may have spilled tea on.”

Francis laughed again before patting the empty space next to him. “Come sit with me.”

“Are you feeling better?” He handed Francis the tray so it had a smaller chance of being jostled as he climbed into the bed.

“Yes, nurse Arthur.” Francis skipped the sandwiches Arthur brought and went right to the least soggy piece of cake.

The two ate in silence. When he was done, Francis yawned and leaned on Arthur's shoulder.

“Are you still tired?” Arthur patted his hair.

“A little.”

“You can sleep here, I'll sleep on the couch.”

“You don't need to do that-”

“Really, it's fine-”

“We can share the bed.”

Arthur froze. “That's not necessary.”

“I would like for you to stay with me.” Francis insisted.

“All right.” Arthur gave in, “Anything else you want?”

“One thing, but is not something you can get for me. It's something you can do for me.”

“Name it. I'll do my best.”

“Arthur,” he took a deep breath, “I want you to-”

“No.” Arthur cut him off, realizing where the request was going.

“Why not?”

“Why? It won't help anything, not really.”

“I don't care. Arthur,” Francis slid one hand to the back of Arthur's neck, his other pulling his face closer. Arthur could feel his breath on his jaw. “Arthur, make love to me.”

“Francis, think about this. You were assaulted because we haven't had sex. Now you want it?”

Francis pushed Arthur away so he could look him in the eye. “I've wanted it this whole time.”

Arthur tried to formulate a protest, tried to tell Francis he was wrong.

“I missed you on our wedding night,” Francis continued.

“Please don't call it that.” Arthur groaned, rubbing both hands across his face.

“Why not?”

“Because it wasn't! There was nothing consensual about it. I- you were forced into something you don't want.” He looked up at Francis. “You've said it yourself: you're not a guest here, you're a prisoner. Why would you-”

“I want to be married to you,” Francis softly interrupted.

“I never wanted you as my prisoner,” Arthur reassured him, cupping his face in his hand. “I wanted you as my partner.”

Francis looked up as Arthur closed the distance between them, gently kissing him.

“I love you,” Arthur whispered. “Please believe me.”

Francis nodded, holding on to his husband. “J’taime.”

---

Arthur held Francis’ hand, gently kissing his fingers as Francis tried not to fall asleep. “I know we're not in an ideal situation,” he whispered. “But I'm sure we can learn to live with it. Try to make the best of it.”

Francis nodded sleepily. “As long as you're with me.”

Arthur leaned over to kiss him. “I'm never leaving you again.”