~A babe and a Lion~

May 1472, St Martin Le Grand....

The timbered house the Prior at St Martin Le Grand had allowed Anne to live in the past three months was small, yet comfortable. A kitchen lay on the lower floor where the two servants she kept cooked her meals along with a pantry that smelt of rosemary and other spices sent from the stocks of Westminster.

The upper floor contained her bedchamber, a small white-washed room with a golden cross in the single arched window for prayer. Her coffer containing the few gowns and books she owned lay beside it, sunlight shining on the wood. A comfortable bed lay in one corner, covered with soft linen blankets where Anne sat one afternoon when Catherine visited, little Henry perched happily on her lap.

The Duchess brought her son each time she came and when it was sunny he liked to skip around in the little garden next to the house that resembled a meadow. Long grass and wildflowers grew in abundance under the summer sun and Henry learnt to catch grasshoppers, although they often jumped away, making him squeal in excitement!

Now he was holding Anne's soft hands, curling his little fingers around hers as he pressed tiny soft kisses to them. He simply adored Anne (or Nannie as he called her) and she adored him too, much to Catherine's delight! Like he'd been to King Henry, he was the calm to the never ending storm in Anne's life, providing adorable distraction and soothing solace.

His Mother sat on the coffer by the window, her skirts spread neatly around her while she watched the sweet sight opposite.

"He's so lovely, Catherine" Anne murmured, a smile on her lips, a smile the Duchess had seen more and more as the months went by "Was it hard, to give birth to him?" Catherine shrugged, trying to remember the pain, the agony she had been through and finding she couldn't, she only remembered the joy of holding her boy in her arms. Perhaps her mind was preparing her for the birth to come?

It was only a month away....

"It was long" She sighed "And I was only fifteen, your age....I didn't feel like my body was capable and I wanted it to be over but" She looked at her boy, her perfect, sweet little boy with her golden curls and Richard's dark blue eyes "But I have my boy and I would take the pain I suffered twice over if that's what it took to have him"

Anne smiled and nodded, bouncing Henry on her lap to make him giggle.

"I often wondered if I would ever have a child" She said quietly "I knew when I was married to Edward that I would have to produce heirs but....his Mother forbade the consummation of our marriage" And in that moment, she answered the question Catherine had wanted to ask since Anne's return to court, though of course she didn't dare. She had no right.

"She forbade it?"

"Yes" It was clear it mattered little to Anne and truly, how could it alter her circumstances now? The House of Lancaster had been ripped out by the roots and was dead, it was now the Yorks that ruled and that was how it would stay for centuries to come.

Their line was strong and soon it would be stronger still.

Catherine's tongue flicked her lower lip and she tilted her head, trying three times to summon the next question she had to her lips only to find it failed her.
"What was he like?" She managed at long last and Anne's eyes found hers, questioning "To marry?" She raised her head a little in sudden understanding and let out a sigh of thought, gently placing Henry to one side where he could play on the covers.

Sighing again, she gathered her skirts and slowly moved over to where Catherine was, willingly sitting beside her for the first time since their childhoods.
She often thought of her dead husband but not with love: with sadness, with pity. She knew he was dead, his body had been lain out with his Father's in the chapel of the Tower and then Westminster Abbey before they were buried in the great fortress.

Edward had been so young and Anne was still soft enough to feel pain at the snuffing out of a young flame of life.
"He was quiet" She said "a dreamer really. I tried to make him like me but...."
"But?" Catherine prompted, tears threatening to prick her eyes at such gentle mention of her Prince.

"But he only ever had eyes for you"

Her eyes fluttered shut and two tears slid down her cheeks, dropping onto the sage skirt of her gown. She almost burst into sobs when Anne's small hand found hers, still as soft as a child despite the harsh months she'd endured and she shook her head "I can see you felt the same....in a way"

"In a way" She admitted "He was a dream, a sweet dream and I loved him, Annie....I loved him...." Anne smiled sadly, moving to gently rub soothing circles over the Duchess' back.
"I know, Cat" She said softly "I know"

꧁꧂

"I took her into my home, into my care out of my own pocket and yet you still see fit to let them steal her away!" George raged as he strode around Edward's large study, pointing accusingly at the Duke and Duchess of Gloucester who sat in the window seat.

Once again, he'd drawn the sword that had driven the battle between them for three months, ever since Richard helped Anne to escape Westminster. Or George as was often said. They had argued, they had demanded, they had tried to make Edward see reason as they manoeuvred for Anne's guardianship to be handed over to them but the King had merely sat back and observed while his bothers and sisters in law fought their war of words.

If anything, Catherine thought that he had already made up his mind to give the Neville girl to him but found the spectacle of George making a fool of himself each time they met too amusing to let go of! By God, she wished he would. Each day her pregnancy grew heavier, more wearisome, and George's incessant shouting hurt her head, causing her to tire more.

This, of course, only gave Richard cause to despise his older brother even more than he did. If their relationship was fractured before, it was certainly shattered now.

Their bladed words could clash from dawn to dusk as they argued and it seemed that day would be another one where they retired in the small hours for George was only just beginning. As always, he made his case appear one of chivalry and honour and perhaps it would've worked if his brother was not his judge. For he knew, as Catherine and Richard did, that he possessed neither in his mind or body.

There was only scheming and a blackened heart.

"Anyone might think you a saint, George" Edward now jibed as George passed his desk, earning an irritated glare in his direction "Perhaps even Jesus himself!"
"It is a betrayal! A sly and wanton betrayal and they are the Judas's that have betrayed me!"

"If we did we certainly didn't do it with a kiss"Catherine snapped in reply and Edward snorted from his chair, letting a smile pull at his lips "You care not for Anne and in your fine speech just now certainly made her seem a burden! You do not want her in her household for love you only want her for land!" 

"A fact we knew long before we helped her escape your clutches!" Richard murmured and George scoffed.
"If she did escape my clutches as you put it" He seethed "then it can only have been so you could take her into yours! Oh don't pretend that you do not desire her half of the Warwick fortune" Catherine laughed and rose to her feet beside her husband, supporting her swelled belly with her hands.

"We do not" She replied "We have our own lands and much of what Warwick possessed was bequeathed to Richard and I after his death by the King"
"Bequeathed to Richard" He corrected "He is the owner of the lands, not you..."

"A fact I could change in a heartbeat" Edward interrupted with a frown, making George turn in surprise "I can change her fate as easily as I can change yours, brother, you would do well to remember that and not insult her. You would be worse for it"

"You certainly would" Richard agreed, wrapping one protective arm around Catherine's waist "Whatever you may believe, it is true, by law what we own is mine but is my eyes, Cate and I are equals. We are partners and own what the other owns, we rule our lands together and I value her council as I hope she does mine. That is how it has been and as it always will be"

"Well said, little brother"

George's face turned a blotchy red, his eyes narrowing while his fists clenched at his sides. When he looked between his two brothers, it was clear to them all he felt the same way about them as they did about him. The affection that had once been there was gone and it wasn't going to come back again. Still, he looked upon them with anger, with jealousy.

"You've always favoured Dickon, Ned!" He spat "Always given him what he wanted, handed him titles and positions even though I am the elder! Even when we were children you use to choose to play with him and not me! You favoured him and I didn't know why but now....now I do" The King's eyes narrowed too and he rested his hands on his desk, tilting his head in dangerous question.

"Oh?" And what have you discovered, brother?"
"You both think you're better than everyone else. That the whole world will bend to your will, that you can take and give whatever you want and no one will bat an eye...."

"I will give and take what I want!" Edward suddenly roared, shocking George into silence and making the other two flinch. He rose from his throne and raging figure that towered over all, nostrils flaring and hands balled into fists "I will give and take what I want because I am King and to drum that seemingly unknown notion into your hollow head I hereby give the warship of Anne of Warwick to the Duke and Duchess of Gloucester!"

The words he spoke carried tremendous weight but despite the sigh of relief Catherine let out, she did not smile, she did not laugh. She only stared, as George's incredulous expression turned to one of immense rage and he turned to his brother and sister in law, glaring daggers at them.

"You two" He hissed, pointing "One day will regret this"

"Don't bite the hand that feeds you, George" Richard replied icily "Because if you do, that same hand might just hit you" George's glare only became angrier and he turned on his heels storming to the door and almost exploding with rage as he threw it open and saw Mary Woodville was in his way.

"Move, girl" He ordered, giving her a hard shove as he barged past. Mary squeaked, landing hard against the door frame but any pain it caused her was disregarded for the task she had been sent to carry out. Her golden hair was almost free from its careful braid, the front of her sky blue skirts stained with blood, like her hands; the drying crimson liquid ground under her fingernails.

She did not bother to curtsy as she ran in, only went straight to Edward, her pretty face panic stricken. Immediately Catherine's heart began to beat a little quicker, even more so at the distant agonised scream that echoed through the halls of the palace. That morning Queen Elizabeth had gone into labour but while she wished to attend her friend, the late stage of her pregnancy had denied her presence by her side.

"The baby!" Mary gasped and Edward shot out from behind his desk "It's not coming! The midwives say she may die!"
"No!" Catherine cried and immediately picked up her skirts to run, following Edward who was already away with Mary on his heels.
"Cate!" Richard tried, grasping at the cuff of her gown but she shook him off and made for the door.

"No!" She told him over her shoulder "She needs me! And I must go to her!" Her belly hurt at the sudden movement and her heart did too at the sound of the Queen's pain but no amount of discomfort would stop her as she ran through the halls. Worried nobles gathered on either side of the corridors, set in little huddles while they murmured their predictions, listening to Elizabeth scream.

'Damn them' Catherine thought as she passed 'to predict the death of a woman giving birth and their Queen too!' Up stairs and down corridors she dashed, catching up with Mary and Edward and they burst through the door at the same time, out of breath but finding what little oxygen they had left was taken at the sight before them.

Seating on a birthing chair, her hair a mess and bloodied shift pulled up around her thighs was the Queen of England. Tears ran down her reddened face and her lips were bleeding from how much she'd bitten them, the lower trembling while she cried. Her sisters and midwives were gathered around her, all exchanging worried looks and pressing cool cloths to her skin while they encouraged her to push. The marble tiled floor was spotted with blood and more still dripped from between Elizabeth's trembling legs when she tried to bring her baby into the world again.

"Out of the way! Give her room to breathe for God's sake!" Edward commanded and immediately those surrounding the Queen backed away. Catherine snatched a damp cloth from one of the Woodville girls and ran to her friend, kneeling down beside her and pressing the linen to her forehead "It's alright" The King soothed, standing behind her, hands on her shoulders "All will be well, my love"

"You came...." Elizabeth panted, near delirious with pain, her beautiful eyes sore and reddened as she looked around "You came to me...."
"Of course I did" He murmured, kissing her forehead "And now you must push, you must push, Lizzie"
Offering her hand, Catherine felt pity strike at her heart when Elizabeth weakly took it, squeezing with what little strength she had left.

Another scream tore from her throat when she pushed again, mixed with a sob that sounded like she was being torn apart. She tried to breathe, tried to push and managed it once more with a mangled yell and a flood of tears before she collapsed back into the chair and curled into Edward's arms. A midwife caught the baby and wrapped it in a soft blanket, carrying it away.

"Where is his cry?" Catherine murmured, feeling anxiety rise in her again as warm water was poured onto the babe's skin, trying to stir it to life.

"Where is his cry?" Elizabeth whimpered but Edward gently shushed her, shaking his head until a sharp slap filled the room followed by a cry. A quiet cry. A weak cry. The Duchess shook her head as she saw the looks of sorrow the midwives exchanged, placing a hand to her belly as if it were her baby they held and not the Queens.

She knew what those looks meant, every woman knew what those looks meant.

They meant this poor York Prince was going to die.

꧁꧂

Dressed in a clean nightgown with a robe wrapped around her trembling body, Catherine and Edward stood on either side of Elizabeth, supporting her, helping her to take small steps into her Mother's candlelit room.

She could barely walk, barely possessing the strength to stand but even then her determination did not fail her and she forced her feet to carry on. Her baby boy was wrapped in her arms, his reddened face peeking out from the mass of blankets and his breaths weak and shallow.

There was no hope for him and there was sadly no hope for Jaquetta Woodville. The woman lay all but unconscious on her bed, her greying, golden hair loose over one thin shoulder and her once glowing face pale. A sad frown was settled on her lips and her arms looked so slim beneath her nightgown, Catherine feared they would snap at one touch.

The poor matriarch of the Woodvilles had lain thus for two days now, never opening her eyes, never uttering a word. It was time for her soul to fly onto the gates of heaven and Elizabeth, still weeping with grief, had decided to entrust her son to her, to let her take him with her. Shuffling towards the edge of the bed, the King and Duchess helped the Queen to kneel, supporting her hands as she held them over her Mother and gently lowered her son onto the covers.

"He's dying, Mother" She whispered and Catherine bowed her head, feeling tears spring to her eyes "Take care of him....please...." To lose a child, God, she couldn't imagine such a thing. 'I would go mad' She thought and knew it to be true, if she ever lost a child, child that grew in her belly, created from she and Richard's love, she would lose her very mind. It would be too much and she wondered how Elizabeth had not descended into madness already.

How could her heart take so much pain?

A slight movement on the bed took her from her thoughts and she looked up to see Jaquetta's hand, her wedding band glistening on her ring finger, slowly lift from the covers. It came to settle on the Prince's blankets, a silent promise she would keep the little boy safe and Elizabeth let out a sob, retreating into Edward's arms again.

He held her tight, kissing away her tears while candles flickered around them, but no amount of flames on earth, no matter how bright, could light the Palace of Westminster that night as the two souls on the bed took their last breaths and slowly slipped away.

꧁꧂

When Catherine returned to their rooms, Richard did not call for Margery but attended to her himself. She seemed little more than a ghost and he had to take her hand to guide her to the middle of the room so he could begin, noticing that her eyes were glazed over with sorrow, trapping her in grief.

He removed the pearl encrusted caul that bound her hair, removing the metal pins holding it and letting the flaxen curls fall to her waist. Picking up the ivory brush on her dressing table, he brushed them through, slowly gently, seeking to soothe her with his tender movements. Next he unlaced her gown and kirtle, without a fuss, without one curse passing his lips and lifted a nightgown over her head, kissing her lips as he did so.

Even then she did not respond fully and he led her to their bed, eager for her to rest for herself and their baby. When she lay, her hands ran over her belly and tears escaped the corners of her eyes, wetting the pillow beneath.

"Take me home" She whispered, staring sorrowfully up at the canopy "I want to go home, Dickon, I want to be at Fotheringhay with you and Henry and our baby" She sniffed slightly and the tears continued to flow when Richard climbed into bed beside her, cradling the side of her face "Take me home" She repeated, sounding almost like a child "Please take me home"

All he could do was nod and he did so without hesitance, without thought. He would do what she asked, he would move heaven and earth for her. But that great feat was not what she asked of him and so it made his granting of it all the easier.

"Alright, ma belle" He whispered, drawing up the covers around them "I will take you home"