~Take me Home~

Even though the air was warm and the sun beat down on the city of London, Richard had seen that she was wrapped tightly in a furred cloak. Catherine watched as their coffers were loaded onto wagons, her belongings carted away, departing before their Lord and Lady in an effort to arrive at Fotheringhay before they did.

She stood in the courtyard of the palace, cradling her swelled belly while the Queen held her son atop a small dapple pony held still by a groom. It was the Duke and Duchess' parting gift to their kin and they seemed most pleased by it! The little Prince bounced happily in the leather saddle, dressed in a dove grey doublet with wisps of golden hair on his head.

Richard was in deep conversation with the King, smiling at one remark or another as Edward clapped him merrily on the shoulder.

They would be away soon, Catherine was sure, and in truth she could not wait! For almost two years she had resided in London, in the midst of the royal court where gossip was devoured as eagerly as the finest food and rumours swirled the corridors daily. She longed for the quiet halls of Fotheringhay, for the company of her husband and child (or children) as it would soon be!

As soon as she arrived, she knew she must submit to her confinement but did not mind, after all, peace was what she desired! Her only hope was the boredom of seeing the same four walls every day would not outweigh it.

"Mother!" Little Henry called as he toddled up to her, tugging at her skirts and she smiled, tilting her head.

"Yes, my love?" Henry grinned and pointed behind him, drawing her attention to a carriage being pulled by two fine horses into the courtyard. The sound of their hooves echoed on the cobbles and the King immediately noticed, grinning at Richard before he made his way towards the carriage.

If she were able, Catherine would've picked her son up but as it were, she could not and so simply took his hand.

"Elizabeth" She murmured when the carriage came to a halt and the Queen turned, lifting Prince Edward into the safety of her arms and watching his Father. The wooden door opened and a man emerged, a rather tall one with spindly limbs and grey hair.

He possessed a bushy beard on his chin and his dark brown eyes glinted with secrecy as he surveyed his surroundings. When he saw the King he bowed, smiled, but there was no warmth to his unsettling grin and Catherine clutched Henry's small hand a little tighter.

"Ah, Stanley" Edward greeted brightly, nodding to the thin man as a woman emerged from the carriage with dark brown hair partially hidden by a veil. Her skin was alabaster, her lashes as dark as her eyes which appeared all seeing, like her husband's, when she peered around. They settled on the Queen and Elizabeth raised her chin suspiciously as she approached, watching the careful curtsy she dipped into.

"Your grace" Her voice was ice, like her husband's smile, and when she rose she nodded her head in what seemed like an attempt at reverence. Only when her eyes flicked to Catherine did they widen in surprise and then seem to warm somewhat, making the Duchess frown. The lady glided towards her and swept another curtsy, looking up from under her veil and it was only then that Catherine know who she was.

Lady Margaret Beaufort.
Or Lady Margaret Stanley now.

"Your grace" She greeted and Catherine nodded in reply, falling silent as she was presented with the woman whom she had heard of as a child. Unlike when she spoke to the Queen, Margaret smiled when she spoke to Catherine and her small smile held a certain warmth, despite how little there was.

"Go to your Father, my lamb" Catherine murmured to Henry and when Elizabeth returned to her son and his pony, gestured for Margaret to come forward. Together, the two women began to walk around the courtyard, watching the stones beneath their feet and then one another with a curious fascination.

"I have long wished to meet you, your grace" Margaret admitted at last and the other woman nodded.
"And I you, Lady Stanley"
She smiled, clasping her hands together like she were in prayer even then and a small sigh escaped her thin lips.

"Tis nice" She mused, glancing to the heavens "To find one who shares the same unwavering support for the same people I do" Catherine halted her walk and she sucked in a sharp breath.

"I...I do not know what you mean, my Lady" She lied and Margaret laugh, halting too and turning to face the Duchess with a knowing look in her eyes.

"You do" She replied pointedly and looked around the vast expanse of cobbled courtyard. To make sure she was not heard, she stepped forward, her shoes touching the edge of the Duchess' gown and forcing their eyes to meet "I was there" She whispered, nodding "The day you declared your fealty to York. I heard what you said. You said your mind and body were for Lancaster but I believe" Catherine jumped somewhat as Margaret's slim hand came to rest atop her cloak, over her heart "You are still loyal in here too, somewhere....I know it"

"Cat?"

Catherine turned abruptly in her eagerness to escape the soft words and icy touch of Lady Margaret and forced a smile onto her face at the sight of Anne Neville. Now safely in the Gloucester's care, she had been released two days prior from St Martin Le Grand to Westminster and now hopped down the courtyard steps as if still the child she'd once been.

She wore Catherine's gown of pink silk and it rustled along the floor behind her. The hanging sleeves and hem had had to be pinned up by Margery (for Anne was considerably smaller than her new guardian) but the light hue suited her all the same, brightening her blue eyes. Her cheeks were rosy, tinted with a healthy pink and she smiled, truly.

She had not looked so happy nor so pretty in many a month.

"Ah Annie!" Catherine exclaimed, moving quickly to meet her and extending her hands which the girl took "My, you do look well! Once we reach Fotheringhay you shall have new gowns commissioned I promise you"

"Fotheringhay!" Anne breathed dreamily, walking quickly to the grand carriage next to the Stanley one that had been pulled into the courtyard by two fine stallions "It sounds like paradise!"
"Oh it is! It was my first true home after I was taken from Alnwick and" Catherine smiled "It is where I brought my boy into the world and where I shall have my second too!"

Together they climbed inside and Richard mounted his horse but she did not dare look back to see him for she knew Lady Margaret's eyes were boring into her back. She wanted, needed, to be away and quickly settled herself into the carriage seat, secretly glad Anne did not notice her discomfort and was almost bouncing on her cushions.

A moment later, the Queen appeared with little Henry at her side, one of his hands in hers, and she gave his little head a small kiss.

"Farewell, sweet nephew" She told him as he clambered into the carriage, quickly followed by Margery "And farewell to you, sweet Cat!" Reaching in, she placed her hand atop the Duchess', giving a firm squeeze "I wish you well in your birth"

"And I in your next one" Catherine replied softly "You shall give the realm another York Prince soon, I have no doubt" Elizabeth only smiled (a little sadly) at that and retracted her hand, stepping away from the carriage so the door could be closed.

"Fotheringhay!" Anne whispered again, pulling Henry into her lap so he could play with the honey coloured curls that flowed freely beneath the diamond circlet she wore "I cannot wait!"

꧁꧂

June 1472, Fotheringhay Castle....

Hand in hand, shoulder to shoulder, Catherine wandered to the hill that overlooked the buzzing village and their home; the crystal clear river that ran through it.

Little boats bobbed on the water, their red and blue sails blowing in the breeze, almost waving to her. It was the greatest view in all England (she was sure) for while it did not hold rolling hills and the great valleys of North Yorkshire, she knew there was no sweeter sight than that of her home.

"You should submit to your confinement" Richard murmured, brushing a hand over her belly, but she only laughed, a light, carefree laugh he'd not heard for many months.

"I know, my love" She replied with a shrug "I will do so once your Mother is here but for now" Letting go of his hand, she walked a few paces through the slope of dewy grass that dampened her gown. Her eyes closed, arms outstretched, and her chin tilted up, letting the warm breeze of the afternoon dance over her skin "I want to enjoy all of this! And besides" She threw him a look as he joined her "It makes baby happy"

A low chuckle answered that and an arm slipped around her waist.
"And who am I to argue with that?"

Together they gazed out across their land, smelling the sweet air, listening to the distant chatter of the village below. Garlands of flowers dipped and bowed from house to house, weaved from blossoms picked in the nearby meadow. They'd been made to welcome the Duke and Duchess home two days prior and even now did not wilt; they glowed in the sun!

"Our children will grow up here" Richard murmured, a note of pride to his voice "We will attend court as little as we can and live out our days ruling our lands"

"Which are quite extensive" Catherine added, making him laugh "Really, we have more excuse than most!"

And it was true, their land across England seemed to expand daily, compiling mostly of lands left by the Earl of Warwick Edward had chosen to dish out. Middleham was theirs, Sheriff Hutton near York was theirs, Penrith, Pontefract....it was all theirs and Catherine knew she'd enjoy the growing sense of power and stability within her the longer England stayed at peace.

"Cate?"
"Hm?"

Richard pointed into the distance, where a long baggage train made its way along the dusty road. Despite the billowing cloud around them, kicked up by horses hooves, the banners of York could still be clearly seen, along with the coronet that glistened on the leader's head. Catherine grinned, feeling Richard go somewhat rigid beside her "Ah" She chuckled and made to gather her skirts "Your Mother"

"My Mother" He repeated, panic clearly written on his face as he looked between the procession and his wife's grown belly.
"I can run Dickon if that's what you're afraid of!" She laughed and took off before he could catch her, giggling like they were still the children who chased one another around Middleham's vast valley.

"Catherine!" He cried, his boots pounding on the earth as he ran, easily catching up and sweeping her into his arms like he would a bride "You are not doing any running!" He scolded gently and she threw back her head with another laugh "I don't want you to hurt yourself or the babe!"

"You are such an old ninny" She teased, giving his arm a playful shove as he carried her easily down the hill to their castle. Really, his arm had healed better than expected and apart frown a silvery scar that ran from elbow to wrist, there was no trace of the wound! "Still, you'd best giddy up Dickon if you wish to meet your Mother in time! You know how she hates you to be late!"

"If that is what you wish, I will obey, sweetheart" He replied, causing her to shriek and clasp her arms around his neck when he broke into a run.

It was good to be home.

꧁꧂

15th of June 1472....

Richard clenched his jaw and covered Henry's ears as another of his Mother's heart-wrenching screams tore through the castle. Roland did not lie at their feet as usual but scratched at the nursery door, whining desperately for his mistress, ears drooped, tail not wagging one inch.

Richard sat in the corner, cradling his son in his arms while he cried and sobbed for his Mother. When Catherine's labour had begun the day prior, Henry had been with Cecily, who'd promptly handed him to his Father and run to assist with the birth. Richard tried to put his little boy to bed but no more than five minutes after he'd left, Henry came toddling into his study in his nightshirt, sucking his thumb for comfort and crying.

Eyes red and plump cheeks tear-stained, he'd climbed into his Father's lap and that was where he remained, curled up like a little bunny. Richard decided to move them to the nursery the next morning so Catherine's screams were not as clear to their son but still they echoed to their ears, like phantoms sent to haunt them. He wished he could take Henry away, for a walk in the woods or for a paddle in the river but he just couldn't leave Catherine!

She needed him and he desperately wanted to be there in case anything went awry! He knew he'd never forgive himself if he was not by her side when she needed him to be. Henry needed him too and he didn't dare think about passing him into the care of another, no, that would only scare the poor boy more! And so he sat by the nursery hearth, his son's head tucked under his strong chin and his eyes closed as he tried to endure the storm God had sent down upon them.

'Lord let it be over soon, for her sake' He prayed.

At the other end of the bailey, lay Catherine in her confinement chamber, red faced and desperate. Sweat trickled down her brow and blood soaked the hem of her shift which had long been tugged up around her parted thighs. Duchess Cecily and Anne comforted her on either side of the bed, pressing cool cloths to her brow and whispering warm encouragement into her ear.

Margery stayed with the midwives, trying to help the babe along and keeping the sheets and her mistress clean as best she could. Her heart was beating in her chest, all of their hearts were beating in their chests but none more so than Catherine. She wanted her baby, she wanted them in her arms, safe and sound and she wanted the never ending pain to stop.

"My baby....where is my baby?" She gasped, screaming as she pushed again and pain tore through her belly. Cecily knelt beside her, her greying hair almost loose from her intricate braid and her breaths short.

"Soon" She told her daughter in law "Soon, I promise"
Catherine nodded, gritting her teeth as the midwives encouraged her to push once again.
"And Henry....where is my son?"

"His grace has him, Cat" Margery called from the end of the bed "They are in the nursery" the Duchess shook her head, tangling her hair against her pillow.
"No...." She murmured "No....he has to be away from here, he has to...."

"Hush, my dear" Cecily soothed "all will be well. Your boy will be well and so shall your babe be"

It was almost strange for the Duchess, to see Catherine in childbed again. After all, she had been fifteen when she last lay amongst the bloodied covers and now she was nineteen, a true woman! But the pain on her face was the same, her agonised screams were the same, her desperate pleas for relief were the same....

"Push again, your grace! Tis not long now!" One midwife called and Catherine obeyed, her hands grappling for the covered beneath and digging purple crescents into her palms when she pushed with a scream. It was followed with a childlike cry, a small whimper and tears that slid down her flushed cheeks.

"Not long now" She whispered to herself as Anne pressed another cold rag to her forehead "Not long now, Annie"
"Exactly" The younger woman encouraged "Not long now" Catherine pushed again with a sob, clutching onto Anne and Cecily's hands for support.

'Lord save me' She prayed over and over 'Lord deliver me and my baby' Pushing again, she screamed and her head lolled back as her vision went blurry and her body became rigid. Gasps echoed around her as she collapsed to the covers and at last was able to close her trembling legs. She curled up like a child, her hands at her chest and her head turned away.

"Oh my!" Cecily exclaimed and there was no doubting the glee in her voice as a little wail rang around the room.
"A Princess!" Anne cried happily, clapping her hands "Oh Catherine, you have a Princess!"

"A Princess" Catherine murmured, the precious words barely registering in her mind while Cecily took the mewling babe from Margery's arms and wrapped her in the silken blanket she'd spent the past days embroidering.

"Here" She said and Anne rushed to Catherine's side, helping the dazed Duchess to sit up against her pillows while her daughter cried, wailing for her Mother's arms around her small body.

Looking up at the little, squirming bundle, Catherine feebly stretched out her arms, letting her daughter be settled into them. Although she could feel her eyelids drooping, she did not allow them to close and while she didn't feel the surge of energy she had after the birth of Henry, a surge of love still filled her heart.

The little pink face staring up of her was one of beauty, gently rounded with Catherine's own light blue eyes and rosebud lips that puckered when she quietened.

A dusting of dark hair covered her head and her Mother smiled. A girl with blonde hair and dark blue eyes Richard once said their daughter would possess and yet, here she was, with the exact opposite! She could not imagine a more perfect babe. Her little body was soft and warm, soothing the ache Catherine's felt and she relaxed into the covers, hardly noticing when the midwives cleaned the blood from between her legs.

"Oh my darling" She whispered, stroking a finger across one plump little cheek as her daughter yawned and her dark lashes landed against her skin "I have a daughter....Annie! Come and look!"

Anne was more than happy to comply, carefully sinking down onto the covers and peering at the newborn babe with innocent fascination.
"She's so...."

"Perfect" Cecily finished, gazing down at her newest granddaughter and Anne nodded "A perfect Princess of York. Now" Reaching for the comb by the bed, she began to draw the ivory teeth through Catherine's tangled curls "Let us get you clean and put your husband out of his misery"

꧁꧂

Still dressed in his nightgown and clutching onto his Father's hand, Henry of Gloucester toddled through the castle. His Mother's screams had ceased but that far from comforted him, it worried him, and even when Richard proclaimed all was well, that silence meant the baby was born, he was not convinced.

"Mother" He mumbled while he sucked on his thumb and his Father nodded, deciding to at last pick him up and bestow a kiss to his hair "Mother gone"
"No, lad, your Mother is not gone, she is well!"
Henry sniffed and looked warily at the door he was being carried towards.
"Then why we hear her no more?"

Richard only chuckled at that and took his son's little hand in his.
"Because she's had the baby, Henry! You cannot hear her because she is no longer in pain!" Still, he looked doubtful, even more so when Richard opened the door to his Mother's chambers.

Catherine was now alone, tired and drained but not willing to sleep for that would mean she couldn't gaze at her little daughter. She now slept, sweet and peaceful, little hands freed from her blanket and clasped against her chest. Oh so perfect. Sunlight lit the room, cascading down onto the bed and setting Mother and daughter in a heavenly glow.

"Ma belle?"
Even though he was trying to reassure his son, Richard could not help the note of worry that slipped into his voice. His eyes swept earnestly over his wife, looking for any signs of illness or pain but all he found was happiness.

"Dickon" She replied quietly, her tone honeyed with a love that only intensified at the sight of her son "And my darling boy!" Henry waved, finally convinced that his Mother was well but now trying to scramble from his Father's arms to get to her "Richard!" She said happily "Come and see! We have a daughter!"

His eyes widened and he slowly set Henry down, letting him run down one side of the bed while he walked down the other; stared at the babe in his wife's arms. He saw a pink little face, a dusting of dark hair, tiny hands Henry poked as he climbed onto the covers.

"Carful, my lamb!" Catherine chided softly "She is very delicate and must be handled with care...."

"A daughter" Richard whispered, sinking down beside her, still watching the small child whose tiny fingers closed around her brother's in sleep when he presented one "Our little daughter"
"She has my eyes and your hair. The opposite of what you prophesied!"

"Sissy" Henry murmured, beginning to grin "small sissy" leaning down, he gently nuzzled into the downy hair dusting her head "soft"
"She is soft! Like the petal of a flower...."
"The petal of a York rose" Richard finished, letting the fingers of his daughter's free hand curl around one of his.

"What shall we name her?" Catherine asked "What shall we name our little rose of York?" He tilted his head to the side, a knowing look in his eyes, and she chuckled at the realisation he'd selected a name for a daughter long ago! Just as she'd done with their dear son.

"Joan" He answered softly "For the matriarch of both our bloodlines, Joan Beaufort. She was my grandmother and your great grandmother, I think it right that we should honour her"
"And a sign for the dynasty we too wish to create"
His smile widened and Catherine lay her head against his shoulder.

"Exactly! Our little baby, Joan Plantagenet of Gloucester....and one day" He continued "Just as I promised you, my love, she will be a Queen"