~To be a Percy~

To be a Percy was to be a God and to be a God was to be a Percy, they were one and the same.

To be a Percy was to be no mere mortal among men, but a higher power of wealth; one of ever expanding influence. It was to be the puppeteer that played with the strings of fate; ever dangling them back and forth to their will. At least, that was what her Father had always said; her late Grandfather too.

As a toddler, the older man would sit her on his knee, her small body cradled carefully in one hand, a pint of ale in the other while he educated her of their family's ever expanding influence over the blossoming land of England.

"We are the oldest family on these shores" He would say in his deep, baritone voice that often sang her to sleep at night, despite his sometimes prickly demeanour "Older than the Plantagenets that rule us now. They may be Kings, my dear, but we are Emperors, we are the Gods that govern this country"

Then, placing a gentle kiss to her forehead, he would set her on her little feet and call for her maid to carry her little charge to bed.

Catherine had never forgotten those words of wisdom, not ever, so often they were spoken to her. At his funeral in 1455, when she had been just three years old, she had murmured them in her own, childish way, uttering the golden words into the silver beads of her rosary.

He had been killed in battle, a most honourable death her Father said, but she was told he was not killed by honourable people. Henry Percy, 2nd Earl of Northumberland, had been killed at the Battle of St Albans by the forces of the House of York, a band of 'treacherous claimants to the throne' her Mother, Eleanor, had told her.

The country was ruled by the House of Lancaster, rulers who had, at first, risen to the English throne as usurpers, removing the tactless Richard II from power before Henry IV took his crown. Now his grandson, Henry VI was upon the throne and had been ever since he had been a nine month old infant.

He was not a strong man by any stretch of the imagination, he was not witty nor very apt at ruling the Kingdom that was his but he was not vicious and he was not cruel. Henry was a man devoted to prayer and the readings of God, many saying he would be more suited to living in a momentary than the vast palaces and castles he inhabited. Not only that he was prone to fits of madness that would render him useless to his country for months upon end.

But still, he had his beautiful, intelligent Queen, Marguerite, and his loyal nobles (such as the Earl of Northumberland) to see his country safely through these uncertain times. Besides, he was God's King, Catherine had been taught, and God's King could not be questioned no matter what failings his thin body possessed.

Now, with the 2nd Earl killed, his son, little Catherine's Father, had risen to power as the third with her brother as his heir.

The family of Northumberland was not a large one by any means, though numerous times it had tried to be. Catherine had four sisters, some elder, some younger but all dead at birth, or soon after.

The only companion of blood she kept during her early years was her brother, another Henry, three years older than she. They were brother and sister, none could deny but to their family and servants they seemed almost twins!

The two were inseparable, similar in temperament as they were in looks with golden hair that curled and pale skin dotted with freckled that danced across their button noses. When she was a babe, Henry was fiercely protective of his little sister, 'tiny Cate' he called her in his three year old chuntering. So fond of her was he, he would sometimes see fit to escape his nurse and steal her from her crib in the nursery to haul her around whichever castle they resided in, carrying her as proudly as their Father did.

This closeness remained, only becoming stronger as they grew and lived through the rigorous education that had been thrust upon them ever since their Father had been named an Earl.

Within their family household they possessed a miniature one of their own with squires and pages, nurses and maids each assigned to them to see to every need. The Northumberland children floated upon a pure cloud of their own wealth and comfort, one adorned with the red roses that became an ever present feature of their clothing as they grew.

The white rose and the red, the two defining features of the two factions that fought for the English throne of whom the Percy's were staunch supporters of the latter. Each time the noble family appeared in public they would wear a red rose pinned to their chests as a sign of the ever enduring loyalty they had to their King.

This was the loyalty Catherine was raised upon along with food served on gold platters and the ornate halls of Alnwick Castle, the Percy power base of the Lancastrian North. It was there the two Percy children grew, learned and played in their perfect bubble of powerful glory.

Little did they know, such a perfect paradise was not to be their eternal home.

After all, nothing lasts forever, as their Mother always said.

꧁꧂

November 1458, Alnwick Castle, Northumberland....

"My lady!" Clemence cried as her young charge dashed around the bare bushes of the Castle gardens. Six year old Catherine ran grinning at the forefront of her gaggle of ladies who clucked like hens as she bounced from path to path with her light pink skirts raised so that she would not fall while she tried to flee her elder brother.

He would have his pages with him, no doubt, they and her maids were apart of the crowd that followed the young pair upon the orders of their noble parents.

They were their to fetch and carry, to serve and protect, to preserve the Earl's heir and his only living daughter, forfeiting their own lives if need be. Neither Catherine nor Henry ever saw the need for such guarding but, as young children do, they became accustomed to their lowly guardians, after all, they attended to their every need!

"Really, my Lady!" Clemence called again, trying to keep her damask hennin secure upon her head while her beady, brown eyes watched the little girl in front of her, trying to ensure that the expensive silk was not marred by any mud or dirt that might spoil such a garment.

"I'll find you, Cate!" A little boy's voice from the far side of a bush and Catherine squealed her excitement, veering abruptly to the left as Henry appeared, fast and determined followed by his flock of pages. His blue eyes lit with mischief when he saw her and he only had to dive to grab hold of her arm to take hold of her, winning the game they had played ever since she could toddle! Behind them their servants collided in a chaotic tumble of surprised cries and flying silk while they collapsed to the ground.

Catherine smothered a giggle behind her hand, finding her other one taken by her brother who quickly tugged her into the winding gardens; out of sight "Time to escape our jailers!" He joked as they ran, the small stones that formed the neat pathways crunching beneath the leather of their shoes. Soon, the cries of their maids and pages filled the air, the gardens being filled with calls of 'Lady Catherine!' and 'Lord Henry!' Called at the tops of anxious voices.

"We can hide in the castle!" Catherine volunteered and her brother nodded, instantly taking to her plans, just like he always did, before tugging her back towards where their home lay, a formidable fortress amongst fields covered with a blanket of icy snow. It was a magnificent castle of stone encased with an air of magnificent that spread to all who saw it.

Alnwick Castle had long been the home of the Percys, generation after generation building it from a small wooden Bailey to the astounding structure it was with its tall towers and thick walls that even the greatest trebouche could not penetrate.

Still, for all its assets that would defend it from battle, it had not seen the horrors of war for many a decade, leaving it to become the luxurious home it was; fit for a King and his Queen. As far as Catherine was concerned her Mother and Father were King and Queen. The King and Queen of the North, sitting upon the throne that one day her brother would occupy.

Past stone statues of their ancestors the siblings flew, Henry Hotspur, their own Grandfather, figures that had Fathered their nighttime tales for longer than their memory would allow them to recall.

"I shall be like Grandfather one day!" Henry proclaimed as the two clambered the small hill that lead to the gatehouse not at that moment guarded by the spiked portcullis that would drive into the earth at the first sign of threat. His sister could well imagine him becoming like their Father and his Father before him! Already he had begun his training as a night, wielding a sword and dagger almost exactly like the ones he now wore proudly, sheathed at his side.

"I do not doubt it" She replied, eager to share in his vision while they ran through the courtyard where servants and soldiers roamed, all busy with the preparations with the Percys departure for London which was to be that very day!

All week chaos had surrounded the Percy children. Their clothes had been placed neatly into coffers along with numerous blankets and furs to keep them warm in the carriage that would take them to the capital. Henry had protested that now he was nine he was more than old enough to ride beside his Father at the front of the family procession but his Mother had refused, telling him that the last time he had attempted such a feat he had fallen from his horse into a ditch!

It was a memory Catherine smiled fondly at but she did not voice her thoughts, knowing how much the event had stung her brother's pride. Even from an early age he had had an unshakable sense of pride, she mused, just like her Father had. 'You could kill him but you would never kill his pride' their Mother would say when she had had one glass too many on a night of celebration.

"Hal! Cate!"

There she was now and at the sound of her melodic voice, her children halted their excited run to perform their most perfect bows and curtsies. Eleanor de Poynings had always commanded respect, although command and leadership was not usually what those around her would associate with such a genteel and kind woman as she. However, it was exactly those qualities that demanded the respect she was given.

"Come, my darlings!" She called and was instantly obeyed, her two children running eagerly to greet her; be welcomed into her arms. They were with the love they had always know from Eleanor, a warm one that had taken flight as soon as she had held their small bodies in her childbed.

When you were in her arms, you could almost believe yourself the most beloved on earth with all your worries melting away at the sight of her welcoming smile "We are ready" She whispered against their golden curls that were so much like her own and her children nodded their obedience, taking the hands that were offered to them.

"Clemence!" Catherine turned to see her flock of ladies dashing towards their lady, Henry's pages behind them while Clemence emerged from the crowd with a hurried curtsy "Carry my daughter's train" Eleanor ordered "I will not have it muddied"

"Of course, my lady" Clemence replied, eyes cast demurely to the cobble below while she gathered the pink silk of her little Lady's gown into her capable hands. With a curt nod, the Countess of Northumberland glided across the courtyard with her children at her side, crossing under a sturdy arch of stone that led to a second courtyard where soldiers bustles around, huffing with tiredness in their armour topped by red and yellow  liveries.

"My Lord! I bring our children to you!"

The Countess' sweet call was met with swift movement from beside a great destrier of jet black, a mass of brown shoulder-length curls blowing gently in the winter wind and a pair of bright blue eyes darting upwards to meet those of his wife.

The Earl of Northumberland was a handsome man to some, his strongly chiselled face made hard by war a place where his thoughts surfaced, possessing a certain Northern ruggedness that had certainly captured his wife's heart and many hearts before her.

He was a stern man, quite gruff and reluctant to show affection even to those he loved dearest (besides Eleanor) but he did let a certain love show through when it came to his children. A smile briefly flitted across his lips when he saw them while he adjusted his horse's leather reins, calling for his son to see to the animal.

"Come hold him while I rise, boy" He commanded, in as welcoming a tone as he knew how, ruffling Henry's flaxen curls before he saw fit to hoist his strong frame into his fine saddle "Thank you, Hal" The boy beamed with pride, tilting up his chin in true Percy fashion while his Mother approached with Catherine now in her arms.

"Father" The little girl cooed fondly and the Earl reached out to take her, lifting her into his strong embrace and seating her at the front of his saddle.

"Cate" Her Father greeted, brushing a kiss to her forehead which she smiled gratefully at before passing her back down to her Mother "To the carriage now, my jewels" He instructed with a dismissive wave of his gloved hand and that was it. That was the most that the two siblings received from their Father apart from at a feast or upon their birthday. He loved them, indeed their Mother told them each day he did, he was just not a man to show it.

Climbing up into the carriage after her elder brother, Catherine clambered up onto the seat beside him, cuddling into the warmth he provided through his fine doublet while he pulled a blanket across she and their Mother.

She breathed in the smell of freshly cut wood that formed the ornate cart in which they were to travel. It was new; commissioned just the month before by the Earl who had demanded a carriage for his family fit for the royals themselves! Of course, per his orders, it was, draped in linen of red and yellow, their family colours and bearing their arms.

One day, his son, Henry, would order such things.

"We shall meet the King, Cate!" He told his sister, providing a small squeeze to her slight shoulder that lit an excitement in her.
"We are to meet the King!" She repeated in a hushed voice, eyes glistening with excitement while her Mother chuckled "And the Queen! And the Prince!"

"Who is all but a year younger than you, dearest" She remarked making her son whoop with delight.
"Perhaps you shall be Queen Cate? Catherine Percy, Queen to King Edward of Lancaster!"

Catherine hummed at that, fisting her hands in the soft blankets that covered her lap. She would like to be Queen, she thought, to rule over the land that her family already thought their own. She would wear Queen Marguerite's golden crown and dance with her husband at every feast! Oh, how proud her family would be of her, how grateful!

"Yes" She decided out loud, feeling her Mother's hand comb through her hair. There could be no doubt that the Countess was smiling just as she always did when she indulged her children's dreams "I should like to be Queen"

꧁꧂

December 1458, London....

"I have never seen any place so busy!" Catherine exclaimed as she leant precariously out of the carriage window, Henry at her side. The Percy procession trundled through the streets of London, the young girl's senses overwhelmed with the sights and smells of the city that her six year self had never experienced!

People dressed in muddied clothes called out to one another, smoke covered caps on their heads while they strolled around the muddied streets. Women walked with their skirts slightly raised to prevent their hems from being torn and dirtied, bags full of goods to sell in their hands. Hardly a fashionable hennin was in sight which the little girl found strange but also exciting!

So often had she been surrounded by silk and steeple headdresses that reached for the heavens! It was a new adventure to see different!

"Smell that?" Henry asked with a wrinkled nose and Catherine took a deep sniff only to do the same, her expression crumpling into one of disgust. The air smelt of nothing but animal dung, mixed with the scent of rotting or cooked animal flesh that set her mind reeling "The smell of the city!" He continued, climbing with her back into the carriage where their Mother slept, wrapped in blankets.

Catherine had wondered throughout their month-long journey what the Palace of Westminster itself would be like. If the streets of London were so dirty, would the residences of the rich be the same or would they live in comfort and wealth as the nobility Catherine knew did? Surely Westminster would be as grand as Alnwick? Grander even? It was, after all, the main residence of royalty and she had heard that Queen Marguerite had most expensive tastes.

"The Palace is not like this" Henry remarked, pulling his head back into the warmth of the carriage from the cold outside, his nose now pink and his golden hair tousled by the winter wind, something their Father would surely scold him for if he saw!

With that thought in mind, Catherine fished an ivory comb from the pouch at her gown belt and took to combing out her brothers locks. He squirmed unhappily at the treatment but allowed her to do it all the same, aware as she of the punishment that would come if he dared appear in court in such a state.

"You are the heir to Papa's Earldom, Hal" She murmured, tugging her comb through the numerous tangles "And if you...."

"I know, I know, Cate! I'll be in for a beating!"

She nodded solemnly, a crease in her brow appearing at her thought. Their Father was not a vicious man to them and he dared not lay a hand on his precious Catherine but with his son, he was not so lenient. Only twice in memory could she remember Henry being beaten by their Father, only twice could she remember her Father's rage and her brother's pained cries that had followed.

Once had been for blatant disobedience on his part, refusing to train in the tiltyard when it was commanded, the second, that past summer, he had taken the fall for his little sister when she smashed a prised vase in their Mother's solar. It had been something Catherine had never forgotten and she knew she never would.

"We must see that we are presentable" She said, taking hope in his sincere nod "Though I daresay we will have time to change" 

"That you shall!" The two turned abruptly to see their Mother watching them with an amused expression on her face, despite the sleep that still filled her eyes. She was ever the silent one in movement "After all you must have time to dress in our family colours must you not?" At that, her children's eyes lit up and they grinned their excitement.

Catherine bounced in her seat, thinking of the sumptuous gown packed in a coffer in their luggage train that she would don when presented to the King and Queen. It was the most beautiful gown she had ever owned and she was sure Henry had never owned such a fine doublet and hose that was presented to him before they left for London!

They were made to create an impression, a dazzling one that would assure the court of the Percy power in the North and show them to be ever-loyal servants of the crown.