~A Court of Dreams~

Westminster, the Percy's rooms....

"Tis beautiful, Papa!" Catherine squealed as she twirled before her father, her skirts of primrose yellow and crimson red flaring out around her in a colourful swirl of magnificence.

What she said was true, the gown that she wore was beautiful, made of silk and satin with a curved neckline from the fashionable Italy that was lined with shining pearls just like her sash was. The hem of the skirt was embroidered with golden thread, depicting the Percy lions and crescents that would shimmer in the sunlight when she waltzed through the palace corridors.

Diamonds as fine as her Mother's adorned her neck and golden rings clasped her fingers in bejewelled glory. Her golden hair was left loose beneath a circlet of pearls, the flaxen curls carefully placed behind her shoulders and possessing silver strings of pearls woven into them.

The Earl of Northumberland smiled indulgently at his little daughter, applauding and his eyes twinkled with affection. His wife stood behind him, one delicate hand on his shoulder while she too smiled, watching their son march into the room, his pages behind him. Henry walked tall and proud with his chin jutting upwards just like his Father had taught him to do and one hand firmly on his dagger that was sheathed in a scabbard of yellow and red leather.

"Good day, Father" He greeted jovially, bowing with a grace the Earl praised, making his cheeks flush a pleased red "Mother" Eleanor inclined her head, as beautiful as ever in her gown of house colours similar to that of her daughter.

"You look a man, my son"

Henry grinned boyishly and shuffled from foot before his Father rose to his feet, waving the servants away. The Earl took to pacing in front of his two children, hands clasped behind his back and heavy boots landing with a thud on the floorboards beneath. This was a ritual both Catherine and Henry were used to, a time of thought for their intelligent Father prior to instructions that would be told to them and obeyed.

"Today you are to be presented to the King, Queen and their beloved Prince" He said at last, deep voice washing over the two before him with a sincerity they would not dare to forget.

When he used such a tone even his wife became an attentive listener, tearing her gaze away from where it lingered on a window to ensure she heard his words. "This day you are to perform what you have been taught, finally partake in the dance that binds this country together. In taking the right steps you will ensure out family's safety and our own. You must pay every respect to our monarch and his kin, I will accept nothing less."

"We will not fail you, Father!" Catherine chirped with a small curtsy that helped to conceal the excitement brewing within her and her Father reached out, momentarily resting one strong hand gratefully on her head.

"I know you will not, Cate" He turned to his son "Nor you, Hal. You are Percy's, members of the greatest house of England, failure is not in blood" Henry gave a determined nod, certain to do nothing less than please his great Father "If you succeed on this day then you may prove friends to our King and Queen, earn our family more power than we possess. Is that not what you wish?"

Both brother and sister nodded.

To be the friend of a King or Queen was the highest honour any could dream of and brought wealth; shining jewels, along with it. Their family had been the friend of royalty for centuries and both Percy children wished to continue such an honourable tradition.

And so it was with those words in mind that the Earl took the hand of his countess and together, they began to stroll confidently through the palace. Their children followed, hand in hand with their most noble quest in mind though they were not as stoic as their parents, no, they stared around the palace in wonder. Truly it was as grand as Catherine had imagined with golden brackets to hold torches and marble floors depicting the coat of arms of Lancaster and Anjou.

The Queen's personal device, the daisy, covered the intricate tapestries that hung bright upon the walls and if one looked up they would see the banners of the Lancastrian nobles of England waiting to meet their eye.

"There is ours!" Catherine whispered when the familiar yellow and red caught her eye. Henry nodded, squeezing her hand as the family came to a halt before two great oaken doors guarded by soldiers dressed in the black and crimson Lancaster livery. They stared ahead of them, their expressions stoic as they bowed and opened the doors, leading Catherine to a new world of grandeur that she never dared hope to see.

"The Earl and Countess of Northumberland and their most honourable children, Lord Henry Percy and Lady Catherine Percy!"

To her it was a dream hearing her most noble name on the criers lips as herfamily were announced and stepped forth into the light. Her gaze was struck with a sight of magnificence, a great hall encrusted with gold and jewels, lined with courtiers that glowed in the light cascading down upon them through the glass of the finely arched windows.

Dressed in the finest silks and satins, the Lady's headdresses were encased in sheer veils and studded with jewels, their pale necks encrusted with rubies and emeralds that would dazzle even God himself. Each stood tall to catch a glimpse of the nobles processing towards their monarch, a look of awe upon their faces that told Catherine of the respect they held for her family.

She remembered her Grandfather's words: 'we are the Gods that govern this country'

A crimson, velvet carpet lay beneath her feet, softening the steps that she took behind her parents. Her curious eyes glanced through the gap between them, finding her breath hitched at the sight of two thrones ahead.

Sat upon one throne, made of finely carved wood as dark as her Father's eyes was a man with wiry limbs (almost resembling twigs) yet drowned in cloth of gold so that his figure was one of majesty. The crown of England sat on his head, atop a head of wavy brown hair that grew below his shoulders and gleamed with the jewels that studded it. King Henry

Beside him sat the most beautiful woman Catherine had ever seen, and her brother too it seemed, for his eyes suddenly became as wide as saucers and his breaths a little quicker.

Queen Marguerite truly was a glorious sight to look upon, one that encapsulated the beauty of the red rose many courtiers wore pinned to their chests. Her eyes were wide and all seeing, a beautiful deep brown that reminded the girl of the feathers of her hawk, Freydis. They swept across the great hall, settling on the Percys, and the corners of her rosebud mouth turned up slightly.

She was garbed in a gown of gold and crimson, her long hanging sleeves lines with ermine and elegantly draped over the arms of her throne which she held determinedly as if some would seek to take it from her. Of course, there were ones who did, Catherine thought, the men who had killed her Grandfather at St Albans.

Marguerite's hair was like spun gold, cascading in a shining river over her shoulders to her waist, beneath her golden crown.

Beside her was a velvet stool upon which sat a boy just a year younger than the Percy's daughter, clothed in the same crimson velvet as his Mother. His hair was the hue of his Father's though he held his Mother's dark eyes that swept the hall as hers did. Prince Edward of Lancaster, rightful heir to the throne.

The Percy family came to a halt before the great dais upon which the royals were seated on their thrones and, the Earl and his son sweeping low bows fuelled by respect while the Countess and her daughter swept curtsies full of grace, their skirts pooling around them.

"My Lord of Northumberland" The King's voice was higher than Catherine had expected and quieter too, so much so that she was sure only they and his family were able to hear it.

"Your graces" Her Father bowed again, his voice more like a King's should be, she thought, holding a command that demanded respect. Still, the King and his Queen inclined their heads towards him "You do know my wife, Countess Eleanor, well" Eleanor stepped forward, curtsying prettily with her eyes cast to the crimson carpet beneath. Queen Marguerite smiled.

"Indeed" She acknowledged, her voice laced with the accent of her homeland "The good Lady Eleanor has been a loyal friend for many years" Her gaze shifted back to the Earl "As have you, my Lord"

"And will always be" He finished with a third bow before he motioned his children to come forward. Once again, Catherine's breath was caught in her throat. Henry shot her an encouraging look as he strode forward with her in his wake, skirts curled in her small fists. Step by step she made her way forward, forcing her head to stay high until she reached the foot of the dais and knelt before it, beside her brother.

"We are come this day not only to wish your graces our merriest of seasons greetings" She heard her Father say "But to present to you my son and heir, Lord Henry, named for yourself, your grace" The King nodded at the boy with a smile "And Lady Catherine, my only daughter"

This time, the Queen nodded, eyeing the little girl before she spoke.

"Come here, child, so I may see your face"

Catherine was well aware of the gasps around her and had to be nudged by her brother before she gathered the courage to stand, once more lifting her skirts to ascend the steps of the dais on shaky legs. Her heart pounded within her chest, rushing within her ears as her nose was encases with the sweet smell of roses the closer she came to the Queen.

When at the foot of the throne, she sunk to her knees once more, the rustle of silk a balm to her nerves until slender fingers cupped her chin, bringing her gaze to Marguerite's.

"Your grace" She murmured as the Queen studied her face, gently tilting it from side to side, smiling.

"You are pretty, Lady Catherine" She said and the girl's cheeks flushed a bright pink while she turned to her son "Pretty is she not, mon cheri?" The Prince nodded, smiling at Catherine who did her best to smile back.

"Oui, Maman. Quel age avez-vous, Lady Catherine?" (How old are you, Lady Catherine?)
"Six, mon Prince" Catherine replied in the French she had practiced since she could speak, taking delight in the approving noise the Queen gave.

"So you speak the language of my homeland, Lady Catherine? Do you speak Latin too?"

The girl nodded, eager to please her Queen and the Prince beside her. Marguerite grave another approving nod before suddenly removing her fingers from Catherine's chin to reach for the emerald ring she wore. As she slid it from her, once more gasps filled the great hall, even more when she lifted the girl's hand and placed it in her palm, curling her fingers over it before placing a tender kiss to her forehead.

"A sign of our friendship!" She announced to the court, beaming before she lowered her voice so only Catherine could hear "May it endure for as long as time itself, mon petite"

"And what is more" Prince Edward suddenly proclaimed, standing from his stool to capture the attention of the court, which he did more than aptly. Extending a hand to Catherine, he helped her rise and bestowed a kiss to her knuckles "I will have her dance with me at the feast this night!"

Catherine did not think she had ever seen her family so proud.

꧁꧂

Up and down and up and down she was lifted, Prince Edward lifting her with surprising strength for a five year old, as if she were no more than a feather. He was elegant in his dancing, as was she, and their moves were in sync, gracefully perfect while the court watched on.

For their daughter's success, the Earl and Countess of Northumberland (with their son) had been placed at the high table beside the King, Queen and other loyal Lancastrian nobles such as the Duke of Somerset and Earl of Oxford, who's son was sat next to Henry and seemed to be getting along with him a storm!

The two boys huddled together, boyish grins on their faces while they drank wine and their explosions of laughter became more and more frequent! Upon any other day their Father's would have scolded them, sent them to bed, but they were far too deep in their plans to scotch the York nest to be concerned with their mischievous boys.

The mutterings of killing, war and attack were all too clear to those around them but all were enthused by the ideas; adding their own with determination.

Catherine and Edward did not notice, they were far too busy with their dance, giggling with one another while the melody the minstrels played carried them to another world until it ended with a flourish.

The court applauded and Edward kissed Catherine's hand, leading her back to the dais where their families looked on proudly while they took their seats next to one another. The girl turned to her Father, who sat to her right, her chest still heaving while she tried to catch her breath but she could not deny the smile that swept her lips.

"Have I pleased you, Father?" She asked only to be met with a smile so happy she was sure it would knock her from her chair. Suddenly, her Father's arms were around her, lifting her from her seat, onto his knee to offer her a piece of ham he had speared with his knife. Catherine took it eagerly, as she did the sip of fine, French wine he offered.

"Malmsey" He told her with a chuckle when she scrunched her nose at the bitter taste "And you have done more for our family within this one day than most do within their lifetime!" She beamed at him "You have proven yourself a worthy member of our family, Cate, and that will never be forgotten....what the devil?" She frowned when his dark eyes abruptly flicked to the far corner of the hall and fill with an unfamiliar anger.

"What is it Father?" She asked but her words soon trialed into nothing when she followed his train of gaze to where a group of men were gathered, richly dressed in furs of red and white with swords at their sides. For once, Catherine needed no telling of who these were.

These men were the Nevilles.

These men were the Percy's mortal enemies, the ones with whom they shared a blood feud that had endured far longer than Catherine's life. The two families despised one another, their animosity almost overthrowing the hate the Yorkists and Lancastrians bore one another. It could certainly rival it, at least. For decades the warring families had fought for control of the North, their bloody battles painting trails of deadly red across the Northern landscape.

None was ever the clear victor but the Percys were the ones that ruled the North and would not leave their throne for the likes of the Nevilles. No matter how powerful they were, the Percys would always be more so.

"Nevilles" The Earl hissed, the name no less than poison on his tongue that he spat out in disgust.

"Nevilles" His daughter repeated, replicating his tone for she had been well taught in Neville hatred and despised the mere sight of them. Still, they unnerved her slightly, not with their presence but because their leaders were staring at her Father, nay, at her. They were staring at her, observing her and muttering as if she were a curiosity to be stared at or a piece of cattle to be bartered at market! But why?

"Tell the Queen, Cate. Tell her now!"

Catherine was quickly ushered from her Father's lap while the Earl took to informing his friends of the enemy presence until an unintelligible murmuring began to overtake the high table. She padded across the dais to the Queen's throne, curtsying before tugging gently on the Queen's sleeve. Marguerite smiled fondly at her, wiping her slender fingers on a nearby napkin before they gently brushed the girl's hair that was as golden as her own.

"What is it, my dear child?"
Catherine raised herself onto her toes, lifting her lips to the woman's ear.
"Nevilles, your grace"

At once Marguerite's gentle gaze turned harder than the stone beneath her feet, the dark brown of her eyes almost turning black with hatred as she sat up on her throne. Her hands curled around the arms, fine nails almost digging into the wood until she found the men she was looking for.

"Nevilles" She hissed beneath her breath and Catherine was almost frightened of her. The Queen spoke the name with more ferocity then her Father ever had, a ferocity that spoke of an animosity that would not even end with their deaths, no, the present battle would carry on long after their souls were gone from earth "Nevilles!" Queen Marguerite's voice suddenly became shrill as she rose to her feet, beautiful features marred with rage.

Catherine watched with worried eyes, seeing the group of men step forward, their strides arrogant, and almost taking pride in the angry murmurs that surrounded them. From among them emerged one that could only be assumed as their leader, a tall man with tousled dark hair and deep green eyes that reminded her of a serpent.

"Your grace" He swept an almost mocking bow, prompting the others to follow suit while the Queen clenched her fists at her side and her son reached for his dagger.

"Stay back, sweet Catherine" He murmured.

"What do you do here Warwick?" His Mother spat "you are no friend to me nor the King! You are a traitor....God you have a nerve to come here!"
"A nerve that has seen me through my years of life most contently, madam" Warwick retorted while his companions chuckled. Marguerite's eyes narrowed.

"I will not ask you again, Lord Warwick" Her voice was deeper now, not the shrill shriek that had torn from her throat moments ago but a quieter tone that was effortlessly more dangerous "Why have you come to court?" The man quirked an eyebrow, taking a moment to survey his surroundings with an arrogant ease.

"My brothers and I are simply here to wish your graces a merry season's greetings"

Catherine could see her Queen's face flush an enraged red.

"Would that be greetings from York and his devil's brood then?" She sneered and Warwick shrugged, hooking his calloused thumbs into the belt at his waist.
"Take it as you will, your grace, it is clear you will not be our hosts" He waved one hand to his men "Come, let us depart for warmer halls"

"Those halls shan't be so warm once they are void of your presence and your head is on a spike!"
While such venomous words would scare most, they appeared not to scare Warwick, nor his companions, who simply turned and bowed before leaving the hall once more in as silent a state as they had appeared.

Once the doors had banged shut behind them, a great roar rose from the courtiers and the Queen sank back into her seat, looking to the side where Catherine still stood "Come child" She ordered, her voice slightly harsher than earlier but affectionate nonetheless. In one, graceful movement, she had the girl seated happily on her lap, lifting her hand to look upon the ring she had gifted just that afternoon.

"Those are bad men, Catherine" She murmured, her eyes trained on the jem at the ring's centre "very bad men. Men who would seek to take my husband's throne and my son's crown"
"They are our enemies" The girl said, pleased when her Queen nodded.

"Indeed, they are bad men and one day I will see their family scorched from this earth, child, I can promise you that! But until then, we must fight"
"For the red rose!"
Marguerite's eyes met hers in a gaze that was tender and bonded the two through an unsaid understanding. The Queen's slender fingers combed through her hair.

"Yes, child, for the red rose"

Catherine nodded and looked to the side to where the King sat, drowned in his robes and picking at the food on his plate with no sign of appetite.

He had not spoken one word