~Eagle-eyed angels~

June 1465, Windsor Castle estate....

Catherine smiled at the sun shining down upon the hunting party that had taken to the fields that day. Hawkers blew whistles, coaxing their obedient birds to the perches that were wrapped in blue and murrey ribbons; York banners behind, swaying in the wind. The sky was clear of clouds, presenting a bright blue canvas that painted the heavens above in a most pleasing hue.

It was merry, just like the day was intended to be. That was how a summer hunt was, especially one that entertained the King!

His court stood amongst the carpet of lush green grass or sat in the silken marque that had been erected in the middle. A long, oak table was laid out at the front, lined with the King and Queen on their thrones and their favoured courtiers, of which Catherine was one. In what was a surprise to her, she had been gifted a place of honour at Elizabeth's side, allowing her to speak to the beautiful Queen while she feasted on the finest meats.

Elizabeth was interested in her words, she found, constantly tempting her to speak and offering her sweetmeats as a reward each time she did. The little Duchess found it surprisingly easy, her conversation emboldened each time she received a small smile or light-hearted laugh. 'I can help you fly' The Queen had said at her coronation feast and now, it seemed she was putting her pledge to use.

"You interest me, dear one" She remarked after taking a sip of her cousin's favoured Burgundian wine "There is something about you, something that...."

"Well done, John!"

Edward's booming voice caused them both to look to the field where Elizabeth's brother stood proud with a hawk on his leather gauntlet. The animal happily tore at the meat held in its owners fist, it's hooked beak tearing into the flesh; relishing victory. Courtiers and guests alike applauded John's victory, all but overlooking the disgruntled little Duke who stood a few feet away.

His wayward bird joined him a moment later, landing nimbly on his leather gauntlet. Edward chuckled, applauding his brother while Dickon merely shrugged. It appeared nonchalant but Catherine could see the sadness that entered her husband's eyes, the slight slump in his shoulders that told of disappointment.

"He does so love to impress his grace" She murmured and Elizabeth smiled her charming smile; eyes sparkling with amusement.
"Go and comfort him, dear one" She returned, laying an encouraging hand on Catherine's arm; allowing her to be excused from the table. The girl nodded her thanks, rising and weaving throughout the crowd until she was upon the field.

Lifting her skirts slightly, she made her way to her husband, watching him stroke the little bird he held, murmuring to him indulgently. Catherine smiled, her husband always seemed far more in harmony with animals than he was with people!

"You did well" She praised, finally reaching his side and Dickon jumped, making her chuckle "Relax, my Lord!" She teased, placing a hand on his shoulder. "It is only me!"

"I see that now" He replied dryly, fishing a small chicken foot out of the pouch at his belt to feed his hawk. The animal squawked with delight, eagerly devouring its meal, consuming it before it had the chance of being snatched by another. Catherine frowned to herself as the silence stretched out between her and Dickon, it was unnatural for them. While he was a quiet boy, almost like a ghost at times, he only ever was with her when there was something wrong and she could see by the coloured flush to his pale cheeks something was amiss.

"What is it, Dickon?"

He glanced up, passing his bird and pouch to a nearby page while his blush increased, turning his cheeks a bright red. Dickon shuffled from foot to foot, fiddling with his rings, adjusting his belt, straightening his doublet, doing anything apart from meet her eyes which only made Catherine worry all the more.

All of a sudden, he grabbed her hand, whisking her aside as George took to the field, bearing a great eagle on his arm. She could hear the Kings laughter, how he told the court John was to have a fight on his hands. All who heard could well believe it for while Dickon had taken his loss with good enough grace, George had none of Richard's chivalry and he didn't like to lose.

But, then again, who did like to lose?

Through the grass Catherine was all but dragged, hoping none would see as Dickon whisked her into the nearby trees, shielding them from the view of the court. His nervous eyes peered around the trunk of the tree they hid behind and he once again began to fiddle with his rings, twisting the golden bands back and forth until Catherine stopped him.

"Look at me" She ordered, taking hold of his fidgeting hands and forcing them to be steady until she was obeyed "Dickon, what is wrong? You're as skittish as a bride!"

A small smile appeared on his lips at that and he finally deigned to be still, peering at her through locks of ebony hair.
"You would know, I suppose"
"I would!" Catherine replied firmly, allowing her fingers to gently intertwine with his in an effort to force the nervous boy before her to relax "Now what is it, my Lord? Is all well with you? Is your shoulder troubling you again"

"Well....yes" He admitted a little sheepishly "b-but it's not that...."
"Then what is it? Are we in danger? Is Edward well?"
Dickon shook his head then nodded, once again peering around the tree before he pulled his hands from her grasp and began to fumble with his doublet.

"Did you know that this day marks the anniversary of our marriage?"

Catherine shook her head, realising she had not even thought of the day much since it had passed a year ago!
"Truly?"

"Yes, and...." He paused to delve inside his doublet some more, his brows comically furrowing in irritation while his hand probed for the prize he sought "as I did not get you a gift for Christmas, I though I would get you something for this!" Exclaiming in triumph when his fingers curved around a small package, he pulled it forth from his doublet, placing it neatly in the palm of his hand "Wait" He told Catherine when she looked upon the bundle of silk with curiosity.

He could see her fingers itching to peel it away but this was one item he wished to show her. After all, he had spent weeks waiting for it, it was only fitting that he be the one to give it to its recipient. Brushing away the cream coloured silk, Dickon smirked at the entranced gasp that escaped his wife's lips.

In the palm of his hand lay a brooch, one that shone even in the shade of the trees the gold and jewels were so well polished. A York rose was at the centre, fashioned from diamonds into the House's beloved flower but this was not simply a token of the ruling house. No. For behind the rose there lay a lion, a blue lion crafted from sapphires.

A Percy lion.

Catherine's mouth fell agape at the sight of such beauty, at the care so obviously taken to obtain such a gift for her.
"Oh, Dickon, you shouldn't have...."

"Of course I should!" He interrupted, pinning the brooch to the front of her gown where all would be able to see it "You are the second highest Lady in the land, you are entitled to beautiful things...." A hot flush coloured his cheeks "things that are as beautiful as you" Catherine blushed heavily, casting her eyes demurely to the ground while one finger brushed across the cold jewels now adorning her bodice.

"Thank you...." She whispered, aware that he was watching her; had taken to fiddling with his rings. His choice of habit when he was nervous or thinking. Catherine glanced up, peering at her husband from beneath sandy lashes, thinking how she had no gift to give before realising....she did. There was one gift she could give, one that was easy to give, and before she could change her mind, she darted forward, pressing a kiss to Dickon's cheek.

His eyes widened and his blush darkened, almost turning him into a ripe tomato in his surprise! Catherine too could feel a hot flush creeping it's way up her neck and once more cast her eyes to the ground. Dickon mumbled his thanks, carding a hand through his dark curls while shouts of triumph came from the field behind, one followed by a great round of applause.

"Well done, George!" Edward's voice called and Dickon grinned to himself, taking Catherine's small hand within his own.
"We had better congratulate my fool brother" He murmured, pulling her into the sunlight where she looked proudly upon her shimmering gift.

Easily they strolled back to the tent where the court feasted on meat and fine wine, each joking and laughing with another beside them. George was before the royal table, standing proud under the eyes of the King and Queen; both smiling fondly at him.

"And I was hoping for your crown!"

"For who's crown, George?" Catherine quipped as she stepped beside him, eyeing the imposing eagle he still carried on his arm.
"Mine, apparently!" Edward chuckled, popping a grape into his mouth; crushing it between his teeth "but you shall not have it, dear brother, instead, I give to you, the Earldom of Richmond!"

Behind his throne, Warwick raised his eyes, sulking in the shadows as he'd been doing the entire day when his attempts to get the King to ally with the French failed.

"Lady Margaret Beaufort won't be happy" Jaquetta Woodville remarked, having taken Catherine's place beside the Queen in her absence "Richmond is her son's title!" The young Duchess nodded her agreement. None amongst their Lancastrian circles (or indeed any circles) had not heard of Lady Margaret Beaufort.

A Mother and widow since thirteen and as pious as the Virgin Mary herself, it was said. Even though she was but seventeen, she commanded respect amongst the most devout people, famous for her fasting and prayers that could last for a day or more. Catherine often heard she had 'Saints knees' and so did the others, it seemed, but they all knew her saintly facade was no denial for the determined figure that lay beneath.

One that would fight for her son to the death.

"But he is nephew to old King Henry" Edward answered, waving his brother away "So I must strip it from him" Jaquetta raised her thinly plucked eyebrows, rising from her seat to congratulate her sons on the day's victories.
"I shall try to quell Warwick" Dickon murmured and his wife nodded as he strode away, once more taking her seat beside the Queen to be welcomed by a merry smile.

"You are returned, dear one!" Elizabeth exclaimed happily, brushing away the tension of the previous moment with a delicate wave of her hand. Offering Cathrine another sweetmeat she held a secret smile on her face, one that she kept from the rest of the court, reserving for the Duchess alone "I have news" Her warm voice murmured and Catherine turned fully to her; relishing the taste of the sweetmeat on her tongue.

"News, your grace?"

"Indeed" Elizabeth confirmed, her blue eyes glinting with amusement as she took the girl's hand and guided it to her belly. She pressed it against the yards of silk covering her skin, opening her mouth to speak, but Catherine did not need words to know the Queen was pregnant "I carry a Prince"

She drew in a breath at the words whispered to her and two pairs of blue eyes met, one shining, the other, simply shocked.

Elizabeth carried a Prince.
A Prince to replace Prince Edward, securing the York line while tearing out the roots of the Lancastrian one.
Queen Marguerite would never have more children, no more Princes while Elizabeth could have ten.....

She touched a hand to her brooch, the brooch that showed the Percys and the Yorks united.

Should she be glad of that?

꧁꧂

February 1466, Westminster Palace....

The months soared by in a whirl of courtly splendour, one dinner, one dance after another. As the Queen's belly grew, so did her affection for Catherine and soon the Duchess was a constant companion to Elizabeth's presence. Through the halls of Westminster or royal residence they walked, letting their ladies trail after them in a wave of colourful silk.

They talked of many things, of the weather, of the hunt, of the court masques the Queen loved to devise between herself and her sisters. The court was enraptured by the Woodville vines that twisted around them or captured them as Cecily would say.

The grand Duchess was hardly ever present at court, (nor was Princess Margaret) instead choosing to inhabit her prized Baynards Castle along the river.

George had instinctively railed against the perceived banishment of his Mother and when Warwick returned North at Christmas, so did he, riding away in a storm of discontent that followed the old nobility. 'The rivers run so deep my own Mother has been washed away' He murmured before he left but neither Dickon nor Catherine had replied.

They had no quarrel with Elizabeth, even if George and Warwick did. 'Warwick has a quarrel with everyone who does not bend to his will' The Duchess remarked when her husband wondered aloud why his guardian hated the blonde haired beauty so 'And, because of her, his plans for France and Edward have been thwarted' Dickon hand only been able to nod his agreement at that, leaning into her embrace while he brooded.

Of course, Catherine was pleased that her relationship with the Queen had blossomed for now she truly was a favourite at court, if she had not been that before! To be in favour was to be gifted luck on a silver platter and it was luck the girl needed, that her family needed. After all, her inclination to befriend the Queen had been to regain her family's power.

Only, it was not just that anymore. She could not deny that she truly liked the Queen and the Queen liked her.

They saw themselves in one another, almost a perfect reflection that bound them together in a way no one could understand but them. To look at the other's soul would be like looking into a mirror or at least a mirror with slightly blurred glass for they were not truly one and the same.

There was an ambition in Elizabeth that Catherine did not yet possess but admired from a distance, every so often reliving the childish dreams of Queenship she once held. They had come true for Elizabeth.

As the January snows melted into February frost, Catherine sat on the window seat in Dickon's chambers, one hand pressed against the icy glass. Her eyes danced across the vast expanse of the city, watching the smoke, that streamed from street bonfires, float upwards into the sky. That past November, she had not only started her menses but successfully passed the threshold from childhood into her teenage years, turning thirteen which was celebrated at a dinner arranged for her by the King!

She had expected to feel different, more mature perhaps but Catherine found she felt the same as she always did, the same she had done for what seemed an eternity. Perhaps it was because she was forced to grow up, she wondered. If that was the case, how long had it truly been since she left her childhood years behind? Had it been when she had been kidnapped? Locked in the far tower? Married to Georgie? Married to Dickon?

Ah, sweet Dickon, she touched a hand to the brooch he had given her at the summer hunt. He was not the husband she had first wished for but he was the husband she treasured and had begun to call him by his first name instead of the fond childhood moniker.

He sat just a few feet away, happily swaddled in furs which made her smile. He always protested to be immune to the cold, discarding heavy velvet cloaks for the leather ones his cousins loved to sport. It was another testimony to his strength, one he did not now display.

"Warm enough, my Lord?"

His blue eyes flicked up from the pages of his book, a slight smile twitching at the corners of his lips while he shrugged.

"I suppose" He replied steadily, fingers rubbing against one fading corner of parchment "I'm reading of King Arthur and his knights"
"Again?" Catherine teased, smiling at the serious nod he gave before returning to his precious pages.
"How am I to learn if I do not take the greatest examples of chivalry into account?"

She murmured her agreement, turning back to the window to watch streaks of ice, like frozen fingers, creep across the window pane. She liked to watch them, she found, finding fascination in the way the glass was conquered. 'A beautiful invasion' She thought once more lifting a hand to press it to the window when a steady voice interrupted her "Would you like to join me?"

Glancing quickly to the side, Catherine smiled to see that Dickon had opened the furs wrapped around him and was shuffling up to make room for her. He knew her answer before she need even reply and, with a happy nod, she moved across the window seat until she was pressed against her husband. Settled once more, he wrapped the furs around them, again taking up his book to read, only he proceeded to do out loud.

Catherine lay her head against his chest, listening to the steady beat of his heart, his rich voice that lulled her into a sleep she was only roused from when he carried her to the bed some hours later.
"The Queen likes you, Cate" He murmured as he unlaced her gown, helping her into his bed. It was far too late for her to go and they found comfort in one another's company at night.

Still, she was not drowsy enough to not register his words and grinned, happily climbing beneath the covers "I'll wager you could have anything you wanted from her just as I can from Ned!" Dickon spoke in jest but to his wife, there was little amusement to be had. If his words were true, if the Queen truly favoured her as much as he said then.....perhaps it was time for her to speak up on behalf of her family?

Nine months she had waited for this opportunity, nine long months and finally, it was here. Or so she believed. So Dickon believed, despite not knowing it.

"Come" He whispered gently, as he always did when he clambered into bed beside her and she happily obeyed, giving herself over to the warmth of his arms for the night. All while she thought of the battle to come.

A battle to be won.

꧁꧂

Catherine absentmindedly chewed on her lip; teeth nipping at soft skin while she searched for the Queen. That past night she had resolved fully to beg for her family's reprieve 'No, not beg' she thought turning a corner, Percy's did not beg when they had power. She would ask for kindness and now sought out the woman who could give it to her, but Elizabeth was nowhere to be found.

In her chambers, Catherine had searched, in the gardens, the great hall, but Westminster was a large building, the Queen could be in any number of places! With a sigh, she turned another corner, shoes tapping rhythmically on the tiled floor until an icy voice made her stop in her tracks.

"Burn her!"

Her eyes darted up at the sound of Warwick's cold tone to see the northern Earl standing at the end of the corridor. His face was stony, his voice brusque as he spoke to the woman before him. Elizabeth.

She was silent, staring at Warwick while he all but glared at her, waving away the servant beside them that held a portrait of Marguerite of Anjou. Catherine groaned to herself, looking away with a heavy heart. So that was what he had meant, he had not ordered Elizabeth burnt, he had ordered Queen Marguerite burned.

Of course he had.

"I have no use for scheming women who seek to rule their husbands and destroy England through them"

'That was not what Marguerite did' Catherine thought bitterly 'Marguerite helped to preserve England, surely...."

"Catherine?"

Again, she looked up at the sound of her name to see Elizabeth looking at her, her sunny smile returned, one pale hand outstretched. The young Duchess rushed to greet her, remembering her mission as the Queen linked their arms and they began to stroll through the hallowed halls "Do you still fear him?" She asked after a moment and Catherine did not have to ask who she meant.

Of course it was Warwick.

"I think I always will, to a point" She confessed truthfully "He shattered my childhood and my spirit with his cruelty. He took from me things that will never be regained but I am more focused on revenge now than fear" A light laugh, stemming from sympathy left Elizabeth's pretty lips and she smiled down at the girl she walked with.

"Revenge! Such a dangerous word to come from such a delicate mouth!"

"Ah, but that is how we women win, is it not?" Catherine quipped, nodding to a group of passing nobles that bowed their heads out of respect for the Queen and Royal Duchess "Men think us delicate when, in fact, we are more dangerous than they are or can be"

Elizabeth hummed her agreement, silently impressed by the astute girl at her side, so young and yet so worldly wise. She would do well, if she played her cards right. So far, her cards had been chosen for her.
"And you? Do you think yourself dangerous?" The Queen asked, noting Catherine's thoughtful sigh.

"Perhaps not yet. But I will be, your grace, one day"

"I'm sure" She replied before they rounded a corner and settled themselves in the nearest window seat; relaxing back into the velvet cushions "Now, what is it you have come to ask for?" She chuckled when Catherine's mouth fell agape "Ah I know well the look of want, dear one. It's one my sisters hold whenever they want a new gown. Have you come to ask for a new gown?"

Gathering herself, the little Duchess shook her head; tilted up her chin.
"No....I have come to ask for help"
"Help?" Elizabeth repeated, her smile falling to a small frown as Catherine nodded.

"It's my family" She murmured "My Mother and brother....they have nothing. My Father's Earldom has been taken away from Hal and even though my Mother is a baroness in her own right....she is not given what she is due. I wondered if you would...." Her voice haltered as the Queen held up a hand, a silent command for quiet that went obeyed.

"Say no more" She said and Catherine's heart began to beat a little quicker beneath her gown. Was she to be refused? Was she to be turned away and reprimanded for impertinence?

If she was then why....why would Elizabeth smile as she did, a soft grin that told of comfort and warmth "Say no more" She repeated, her tone gentler than before as she placed a hand on her little friend's shoulder "I will ask Edward....he will not deny me. Especially when I carry his heir"