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Yurrta sulh, cihanda sulh
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Post by Turkey on Jan 13, 2013 15:09:43 GMT -5
The Ottoman Empire easily remembered the first time he had ever come into contact with France. It was the year 1482 and he had just come out of, what had felt like, the longest family feud he had had to deal with yet. Bayezid II and his brother Cem had been unrelenting in their attempts to gain the throne. It had been a race to see who would arrive in Istanbul, specifically the palace, before the other so they could claim the title of Sultan. Sadik, of course, had watched with growing fascination wondering who would be victorious, it was almost barbaric the way they were made to fight. Almost like a sick form of drama with lots of blood and gore before a grand ceremony to congratulate the new Sultan.
However, it was also a time that he was confined to the palace, unable to leave unless he was escorted, in case one of two brothers arrived. They would have to meet the embodiment of their empire as soon as the coronation process came to an end, where he would be waiting in the Sultan’s chambers, waiting to give him the entire speech on his duties and how it relented to the larger Turk.
It had been obvious who was going to become the next Sultan but the fact that Cem had not been killed and upon his exile fell in the hands of the Christian had caused Sadik quite a bit of stress. It was a rule that any prince of royal blood could become sultan and so if Bayezid II, for some reason, died of an inexplicable death than Cem could return and take throne. The thing was that now that since Cem had fallen to the Christians…the integrity of his empire would be at stake.
And so it was his for this reason that Sadik had had the opportunity to briefly meet the auspicious Francis twice, once in 1483 and 1486, to better arrange Cem’s confinement. It was also the first spark of interest he had about the French and specifically the embodiment of the nation. However, the two meetings had been brief, for a man who has lived as long as he and his interest pushed to the back of his mind upon his return to Istanbul.
France was quite far from his empire and if he ever wanted to absorb the nation into his domain; he would have to go through quite a few other empires, specifically the Habsburgs which was a goal he was aiming for in the near future anyway.
Yet, things escalated with the Habsburgs and to Sadik’s pleasant surprise his sultan and he received a letter of aid from Francis’ royal family. And, although there was no formal alliance thus far, Sultan Suleiman did not hesitate to extend a helping hand if it meant fighting against the Habsburgs.
And so it was, in 1536 that a real alliance was formed between the Ottoman Empire and the Kingdom of France albeit a secret alliance because of its controversial nature but it was one none the less. It was also this alliance that changed not only Sadik’s views but increased his interest in the French language and culture.
This explained why, after a long journey from Marseille to Paris, he was waiting for the blond male, ironically enough, beside the large Notre Dame Cathedral. It was an impressive structure, he would admit that much but he wondered if this had anything to do with the man’s odd sense of humour.
Whatever it was, there was only so many looks from strangers he could handle before his patience reached their breaking point and so he hoped the Frenchman would show up soon before a scene broke out.
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Post by France on Jan 13, 2013 21:30:18 GMT -5
Francis had been curious about the Ottoman Empire right from the start of their alliance. Why his King had entered into a formal agreement had been obvious, of course- any nation knew from experience that the enemy of their enemy would make the best friend, at least of the moment. What he hadn’t expected was to make such a close alliance with a nation who didn’t follow God.
With the loss at the Battle of Pavia, the forced signing of the Treaty of Madrid, and the humiliating losses that had accompanied it, searching for alliances anywhere they could be found had been of the utmost importance. Although the connection had to have been kept a secret to prevent much backlash from other nations, the ‘unholy’ alliance had proved itself beneficial for both nations, sans a few bumps in the road and a couple brief changes of alliance by the French.
Looking back on the last couple hundred years, Francis felt himself richer for the alliance. Despite having to fight against the ideologies of the rest of Europe, he couldn’t regret it- his people were now more aware of the world outside of their comfortable little bubble. Especially now that the Ottoman Empire’s power had been dwindling and was no longer a perceived threat to France itself, Francis and his people felt far more comfortable in dabbling in Orientalism, including incorporating elements from Turkish style into their own culture and fashion.
Which explains why, when Francis is running up to Sadik twenty minutes later than he had said to meet, he’s dressed in something that was meant to look like it came from the Empire, but missed the mark by just enough to be noticeably French as well. “Sadik mon cher, I am so sorry to be late, I do hope you weren’t waiting too long?” he asks, all smiles as he kisses each of Sadik’s cheeks. He had forgotten to consider how out of place the Empire would have felt meeting here, of all places, and it only occurred to him now to see the darker man standing against the backdrop of his beloved church. “Did anyone give you trouble?” he asks, a tint of concern in his expression.
((If anything needs changing please let me know >< ))
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Post by Turkey on Jan 14, 2013 2:30:11 GMT -5
Sadik was honestly surprised no one had approached him while he waited. There were many people, he noticed, that had thought about it, and the whispers caused his brows to knit together in irritation. Usually, he was fine with attention, actually, he loved attention but this type of attention made him feel as if he were a part of a circus…or a zoo animal.
It was ten minutes after meeting time and he was sure that the priest of the cathedral was about ready to step away from the door and lecture him on his infidel ways. Sadik would pretend that he hadn’t noticed the priest peering from around the door as the Turk acted casual, occasionally looking over just to get a kick by the man ducking behind the door. His lips quirked up in an amused smirk as he crossed his arms and leaned back against the cathedral wall just waiting for the priest to poke his head from around the door a fifth time. It was like Sadik was playing cat and mouse and he was the cat.
It wasn’t long after that he noticed an interestingly dressed Frenchman run up to him fashionably late. His brow quirks up at the man’s clothing before being pulled in for a couple of kisses which he returns with gusto. “Not any longer than usual.” He replies as his eyes drifts over the man’s clothing a second time. “What the hell are you wearing?” He asks with a slight chuckle waving off the second question. No one had the guts to actually approach him or give him trouble.
He has to take a step back to take in the man’s entire appearance as he let out a louder bark of laughter. “If you liked my clothing that much I could have given you some stuff…this…I’m not even sure what this is?”
Sadik steps forward fixing a few things, without permission, before dimming it acceptable enough. He couldn’t help but be very amused by this, but his clothes, as they were, without European influence would look much better on the Frenchman than what he had on now. It was mostly because Francis would be quite the exotic sight in Ottoman style clothing but then again the man always looked exotic to him. He wasn’t used to seeing blondes unless they were harem woman and even then he doesn’t pay that much attention to them.
His irritation from before, which had partially ebbed away when he was toying with the priest had vanished. Francis’s clothes had certainly brightened his mood exponentially and the Frenchman was always enjoyable to look out regardless of what he was wearing.
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Post by France on Jan 14, 2013 7:30:15 GMT -5
Francis would likely not be pleased to find out that Sadik had been toying with the priest in such a manner… or at least, he would have pretended he wasn’t pleased for the priest’s sake while being secretly amused by it instead. The long span of nearly two hundred years had taught him to relish in the strange looks and attention that they received every time the Turk visited his country. It made the blonde feel like a celebrity after all- and who didn’t love a good celebrity scandal.
His beaming smile falters a little when Sadik pulls back to survey his outfit and laughs like that instead of the compliments Francis had expected. “Oh… don’t you like it? It’s the latest trend here in France,” he pouts, though it’s more of a playful expression than anything. He’s glad the other hadn’t had any trouble so far. “But oh, I would love some clothes from your lands, if you wouldn’t mind. Maybe I could have some made for me the next time I visit?” he ventures, smoothing out his shirt.
Sadik’s hands sliding over his clothes and fixing a few things tosses him off guard for a moment however, laughing gently as the other tried to make him presentable in his own mind. Francis took the opportunity to kiss the taller man’s cheek before he could pull back, grinning as Sadik seems to think he was proper now. “Not a total loss, then?” he grins, still unwaveringly proud of his fashion. It would still be interesting to wear authentic clothes though. “You know, I could get you some nice French clothes made, I bet that I have some things that would look amazing on you…” he hummed, eyeing the man’s strong build. Perhaps nothing at all would suit him better, on second thought. He waves off the idea though, such things should not be pondered in front of a church.
“Never mind, there are orders of business to be attended to before we move on to fun,” he smiles, brushing a hand through his hair. “You did come up here to visit with your students first and foremost, oui? I have arranged to meet with a few at the local school in a short time from now.” Francis shifted, offering to take some of Ottoman’s luggage. “We have time enough for a drink at my house first though. You will stay with me, oui?” he asks, just to double check. He had so many things to show Sadik, it would be a pain to have him living elsewhere during his visit.
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Post by Turkey on Jan 15, 2013 13:12:04 GMT -5
Sadik can’t help the slight laugh that escapes when he feels the Frenchman’s lips on his cheeks as he fixed him up. He shrugs at the comment giving him a lazy grin. “Acceptable. But, I’ll make sure to get you fitted before I head back to Istanbul. Your next visit will have a surprise waiting for you.” He’d pick out the colours and fabrics for the Frenchman’s clothes; there was something about knowing Francis was wearing something of his that exhilarated him. It was perhaps the same feeling he got when he spoiled the nations within his empire. Seeing them wear his things, the articles of clothing or jewelry he had specifically picked out was like marking them so everyone knew exactly who they belonged too.
In Francis case, it wouldn’t necessarily be that the man belonged to him per say but more that Francis was certainly in an alliance with him. It was like a slap in the face to the rest of Europe and one that would be well worth it because the rest of Europe couldn’t do anything to sway the Frenchman’s decision to be his ally and that’s what he liked.
It was easy to tell how proud Francis was concerning his fashion. The man wore it well or rather wore clothes well, he was sure if Francis was left with a dirtied potato bag, he’d somehow make it work to look good on his form. His gaze drifts over several of the citizens of Paris as he examines their clothing before looking back at his companion. “I don’t know. They don’t look too comfortable.” A few people looked as if they had a rod shoved very high up their ass. “But if you’re really that insistent I could give it a try.” It’s been a lot harder denying the Frenchman things. The longer they’ve been in an alliance the more relaxed Sadik has gotten with Francis, almost dangerously so, of course, Sadik was aware that alliances weren’t forever and if your government decided against something you had no choice but to go with it.
Sadik nods. “Just need to make sure you’re treating them right.” He gives him an amused look knowing full well Francis would try to make them comfortable. And plus, his boys were strong and independent, he was sure he didn’t have to worry about them too much. They could take care of themselves.
Green eyes fall on the offering hand as he picked up the few bags he had brought with him. “I can manage; they’re not heavy and wouldn’t want them to ruin your clothes anyway.” He smirks with a small wink as he starts forward. “That was the plan.” He agrees having made alternative plans just in case but knowing full well that Francis would offer him his guest room at least. Honestly, when he had gotten the last letter from the Frenchman, he had figured there would be other things they would be getting up too besides the visit to his students. A few art museums, if he remembered correctly.
“So what things did you want to show me?” He asks casually ignoring the increase in looks now that Francis was walking by his side. Well, some things couldn’t be helped.
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Post by France on Jan 16, 2013 6:03:15 GMT -5
The promise of new clothes or surprises makes Francis smile a little more, always pleased at the prospect. “Oh, good idea,” he hums, brushing his hair back over his shoulder. “I like blues, reds, and purples… but I trust your judgement if you think you have something nicer, oui?” Patting Sadik’s arm he smiles, unaware that the other man’s line of thought had gone straight towards possession… though if he thought about it, surely he would come to the same conclusion. It was likely why he had offered French fashion as well, and enjoyed how the Ottoman Empire’s citizens had started to take in more French culture themselves.
Francis laughs at the comment about comfort, shaking his head. “They are plenty comfortable, don’t be ridiculous. Besides, what’s fashion without a little pain anyways, right?” He smiles and shrugs. He’d be flattered that the Turk thought he could pull off a potato sack though (but he would definitely disagree… mostly since nudity is preferable to wearing such an awful fabric). “I won’t force you into anything, but just let me know if you would like to take me up on the offer,” he nods, smiling pleasantly as he started to lead the other away from the church and towards his Paris home. He wouldn’t fight on carrying bags for the other though, since there wasn’t actually a lot to be carried.
The alliance had truly been good to him so far, and it was hard not to find himself fawning over the exotic nation now that he knew he could trust him. It helped that Sadik had weakened somewhat in strength of course, and was now less of a threat and more of a constant friend… and friend to perhaps take advantage of sometimes, as unfortunate a sign of the times that may have been.
“You know I wouldn’t treat your people any worse than I treat you,” he laughs softly, leading Sadik through the streets and making sure to show off his lovely city in the process as best he could. Francis smiles over at him and nods, grateful for the agreement to stay at his place. “Excellent, perhaps I could get you to show me how to make coffee while you are here as well?” he ventures, curious to learn.
There were so many things to show off that Francis gave pause to think at the question. “Well, I know there are several new paintings I know of that I think you would like… of course my clothes too but you’ve already seen them now. The opera house is said to be showing something fantastic now that I thought we could perhaps look into as well?” he hums, rummaging through his clothes to find his key as they come upon his house. “I’ve heard nothing but good things about it.”
Francis unlocks the door easily and pushes it open, holding it for Sadik to go ahead in first. Inside, it was obvious he had redecorated his living room to be matching with the Turquerie trend of the times… though again it was obviously with a French sensibility that the entire set up had been arranged.
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Post by Turkey on Jan 20, 2013 4:54:56 GMT -5
Sadik gives him an amused smile as he walks along him admiring the numerous types of architecture that littered the city. “Should I be jealous by this?” He asks playfully, his gaze never really focusing on the Frenchman for too long as it swipes along the streets they turn on too. He knew exactly what the other was doing because it was something he did much too often in Istanbul whenever he had a guest. Clever.
At the mention of coffee his attention perked up a bit. Ah, right, it hadn’t been too long since coffee had been introduced to Europe. Sadik didn’t want to admit that he was a little irritated that it was the Austrian’s who had come upon one of his forgotten bags of coffee beans after the Battle of Vienna but during retreat it was hard to keep track of what you did have and what you didn’t. Although, at the time Sadik had almost been ready to sentence the janissary in charge of packing up his tent to death. Of course, once he did calm down and think it over, it wasn’t something to overreact too in the way that he did.
Plus, he was sure that they would screw up the way to make it and it really wouldn’t become that popular liked it did in his empire. There were coffeehouses even in the smallest of towns nowadays and it was a wonder the entire Muslim population was located there. “Yeah, I can show you, I’ll show you how to properly make a cup of coffee not the shit stuff Austria makes.” He says, the bitterness in his voice quite evident even though he had tried to keep any past emotion out of it.
Sadik shifts the back he’s carrying to his other shoulder. “Paintings?” He repeats in form of question. He was really curious about this now because he had seen the type of art produced in France and, well, Europe in general and he quite liked it, to his very own surprise. Although, art was always something that he wasn’t that picky with. He was no artist when it came to drawing or painting. He was much better at expressing himself with the written word, no matter how hard that may seem to many. He actually had a collection of poetry that has been accumulating ever since his empire began.
“An opera…” His gaze shifts to the key that’s being pulled out. “I’d like to experience that.” He’d never really been to one or had the time to go to one but if Francis was offering he certainly wouldn’t turn down such an opportunity.
Sadik doesn’t waste time when the door is open to step all the way in before depositing his bag in a corner. His brow quirks back up in amusement as he notices the slight Ottoman feel it held. “So like your clothes your house has had a bit of a transformation.” His lips quirk up as he walks the room, this time not touching a thing. “How are you liking it?”
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Post by France on Feb 26, 2013 0:49:45 GMT -5
Laughing softly at the playfulness, Francis shakes his head and shrugs. “Ah... perhaps not as good as I treat you,” he grins. “But they are well, I promise.” He’s happy to see that Sadik’s attention is drawn to the architecture, proud of his beloved city and not surprised that Sadik does the same. “Your citizens are sure a treat to have here, and the chance to educate them in the French way is a marvelous opportunity as well. But only you will ever get my personal private lessons,” he winks, obviously talking about something far from actual education. Francis can’t help but be amused by Turkey’s apparent feelings about his coffee, watching him in interest. “Oh good, I had a feeling your version might be better,” he hums happily. His country had been influenced by the Austrians in that sense, so he looked forward to tasting authentic coffee. “And oui, paintings. I’ve acquired a few myself, and hung them up here,” he smiles, following him inside. “Mostly ladies in Turkish clothes, it’s very much in style right now and so much fun to paint as well. The patterns and designs give so much more life to the garments rather than the stale things we see from England or Germany.” He dabbled in painting himself, though his unfinished creations were hidden away considering he considered them to be nowhere near as good as the great artists. “The Opera is very popular right now. I think it’s about Mehmed II or someone similar?” he hums, obviously moving on the other topics in his mind already. He grins as Sadik admires his flat, stepping in backwards so he can watch the other’s reactions. “I am liking it a lot, though it’s better now that I have the authentic Empire himself staying here~” he teases, turning back around to make his way to the kitchen. “You can make yourself at home, of course. I’ll make us a drink so we can relax a bit before meeting with your people,” he hums to himself, disappearing into the kitchen and leaving Turkey the chance to explore. ((Info about the opera from here-> en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Turquerie#OperaAnd I’m so so sorry how slow I am and how sucky this post is, please forgive me ;; I got intimidated again)) |
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Post by Turkey on Mar 26, 2013 13:34:52 GMT -5
Sadik had made his first round the living space of the flat before he started on the second round, this time actually taking the time to look at specific things that had caught his eye the first time. The layout of the place was definitely very European, it was possible that one could see a house of similar design in Istanbul and especially now that there were more Europeans coming over as ambassadors or just for visits.
As he stopped to gaze at one of the paintings that hung from the wall, he couldn’t help but wonder what kind of opera an opera about Mehmet II would be like. He was certainly one of his favourites, well, beside Suleiman the Magnificent but it was hard to like one more than the other. He had learned from both of them equally and about different aspects of life. He owed them both more than he cared to admit.
His gaze finally focused on the painting and he couldn’t help the chuckle that escaped him at the way his empire was portrayed. It was very romantic and not at all quite like this portrait made people to believe. He could easily see the woman’s breasts but all the women in the harem were usually covered up, wearing some of the finest clothes, until, of course, it was time for one of them to please the sultan or some of the other men around the palace. However, there were many he knew had remained a virgin or kept from having to sleep with another.
Sadik makes his second round before flopping down on a piece of furniture that he was sure was supposed to mimic the lounging areas of his empire. It was comfortable he would give Francis that and it wasn’t too far off but now he was just nitpicking. He half wondered what Francis was making them to drink as shifted to fix himself properly. The hospitality was similar, unless, he was supposed to offer to help the Frenchman in the kitchen. In which case he had completely missed the cue and instead of getting up decided to remain lounged where he had laid himself.
“I’m really going to have to take advantage of your hospitality Francis. There is a lot I need to explore and enjoy.” He calls out with a smirk. That could be taken in two ways and he certainly meant them in both ways.
(( It's all good...I take just as long sometimes....I'm sorry for the late reply. D: ))
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