~My Sweet Summer Fool~

August 1473, Bamburgh Castle....

The great hall of Bamburgh castle was truly something to behold, bigger than Haddon and certainly bigger than Fotheringhay. A great fire was stoked in the hearth along the back wall, sending springing flames to lick the carved mantle above and tapestries woven from bright silks depicting tales of old lined the walls.

Great, arched, windows, set with fine glass, sat above them, bathing the hall in Northern light that lit the strands of multicoloured silk, making them glimmer with life. It was not as grand as Westminster but was still occupied by two who watched all from the head, the root of power, and while Edward and Elizabeth observed from their thrones, Catherine and Richard ruled from theirs.

They sat upon the great oak chairs side by side, raised on a dais that put them above mere men, both dressed in rich velvet. Richard in blue, Catherine in deep red. Her hair was hidden under a coronet topped caul, the white veil attached surrounding her like silken mist, and one bejewelled hand rested on her swelled belly.

The sacred place where her third child grew.

Below stood two figures, garbed in Percy red and yellow, one a lithe woman who held a small smile on her lips, the other a grim faced man who stared at his surroundings with a degree of displeasure and an abundance of suspicion.

Catherine hadn't seen her brother for near three years and while she could read him like a book, she had no need to because it was clear as day he did not understand the sight before him: her swelled belly, the way her free hand rested in Richard's, her happiness. It was enough to almost make her laugh.

Glancing to the side, she smiled at her husband and (with a squeeze of his hand to hers) he rose from his throne.

"My Lord of Northumberland" He greeted, walking to the edge of the dais. Hal inclined his head.
"My Lord of Gloucester" His voice was cold, like ice and one hand toyed with the hilt of his sword "As you can see I have answered your call"
"I'm most glad that you did"

He raised his eyebrows.
"I wasn't aware that I had a choice, your grace" Eleanor's piercing eyes flicked to him and one hand quickly rested on his arm, both comforting and warning at the same time.

"Now, Henry" She chided, as if he were still a child "we did not come here to fight, we came to talk, with your sister and her husband, your kin" Hal scoffed, looking at Richard with distaste.
"He is certainly not my kin, Mother"

"No, my Lord" Richard replied, holding out a hand to the side and smiling when Catherine joined him, eager to seek peace between the two families "But Cate is. She is your sister and it is for her sake that I wish for us to unite as well as for the good of the North, I make no secret of that. Our families are already bound by marriage and now we must be joined in friendship" The Earl stared at him, eyes flicking between him and his sister.

"Friendship?" He repeated and Catherine felt her husband's grip on her hand tighten somewhat. Even his patience had its limits. Hal was certainly testing them.

"If not friendship then alliance, it can prove a great deal more useful than the former"
"Indeed!" Catherine agreed. Perhaps her voice would prove to coax her brother into accepting the offer. The voice of a fellow Percy "and what could be more useful than the unification of England's two most noble houses? And most powerful too!"

Hal's eyes finally turned on her again and she smiled, almost pleading with him to set aside the hard stubbornness his heart harboured.
"Well, sweet sister" He replied "we used to be powerful, now we are not"

"Which is why my Lord husband and I offer this to you, Hal!" She countered "You are a strong man as our Father was and while you may not have aligning views with Richard, he would have you work with him and the Northern council to craft a better England!" Richard nodded and Hal's chin jutted upwards in thought, his attention finally captured. His hand lay to rest on his belt; thumb hooking under the fine leather.

"You may not be so powerful, my Lord" Richard said "but your family still holds influence and I would like to use that. I have power and as Lord of the North I must have the people respect me as they do you. If they see you are with me, their loyalty shall be gained easier" This time, it was Hal who smiled but not kindly, disbelievingly. Almost amused.

"And that is all you seek? Their loyalty?"

"Really Hal!" Catherine exclaimed, finally releasing Richard's hand and descending from the dais. Walking to her brother, she held out her hands and took his, running her thumbs over them. Truly his faith in York was nonexistent. His faith lay with the dead but the dead could not help him "all we seek is their loyalty and love! King Edward does not send Richard here to burn the North to the ground"

Her brother's expression softened somewhat and he brought her into a warm embrace, holding her tightly.
"You speak of Percy influence, your grace" He said, looking up to her husband once more "but my sister is a Percy and the people love her, they always have. Why do you need me?" Catherine could not help but smile against his doublet at that. He would never relinquish her fully to York care. Not ever.

Now it was Richard who descended from the dais, finally putting him on the ground where mortal men resided. But he did not fully approach, keeping a formal distance between them.
"Because you are the Earl of Northumberland" He told the Earl firmly "and can claim a seat on the Northern council. Cate is my consort but you, you can be my brother and my ally"

Hal's breath hitched at that and he finally released his sister, swallowing as she went to her husband's side again, a loving look in her eyes. He frowned slightly.
"Your right hand?" He asked and Richard tilted his head.

"In time perhaps"
Swallowing again, Hal glanced at his Mother who nodded, causing him to sigh and return to Richard with a slight incline of his head. It was the closest he would ever get to submission.
"Very well then"

꧁꧂

Along the walls of Bamburgh, above the restless sea, Catherine walked with her Mother, arm in arm as if no time had passed since they'd seen one another. As if nothing had changed. As if the last time they had spoken, the Countess had not advised her daughter to abandon her husband in favour of Lancaster.

Eleanor had her free hand on her daughter's belly, gently caressing the velvet beneath her fingers with wonder and love in her eyes.

This child would be her third grandchild and weather it was a son or daughter, she cared not, all she knew was that she wished to see them (and their siblings) more than she had. Perhaps this new alliance between the houses of York and Percy would allow that?

"You looked a Queen by his side, my jewel" She remarked quietly when they came to a halt "a coronet on your head and seated on your throne. He even called you his consort!" Catherine laughed at that, looking out over the deep blue ocean while the salty wind stirred her veil "Does he have ambitions for the throne" Her eyes immediately grew wide and she turned to her Mother shaking her head almost wildly.

It was a dangerous thing to think....let along say out loud! Edward was King. Nothing could change that and while he trusted his youngest brother, Richard could still not be rumoured to be a threat to him! The events of the decade's beginning had already shaken him to slight paranoia. Why, he had even sent soldiers to France to try and capture King Henry's nephew, Henry Tudor! A mere child!

"No Mother!" She exclaimed, gathering Eleanor's hands in her own "Don't say that! Don't ever say that! The only throne he would ever seek is that of the North and he has it! He is happy as am I!" The Countess simply smiled as if she had not let treason pass her lips, eying Catherine with pure adoration.

"Ah, my own daughter. The Lady of the North" She mused and Catherine relaxed somewhat, content that her Mother's curiosity was satisfied.
"Do you think Hal shall accept? He knows now how high he can take our family, does he not wish to do so?"

"Of course, Cate, but he will find it hard to pander to a York lord, right hand or not! You know whom he is loyal to...."

Catherine drew her hands away, planting them on the cold wall beside them and staring out into the clear expanse of blue. Her brother's loyalty was admirable and even she held her own Lancastrian sympathies but this was too important. This concerned her family, her husband, her very children's lives and she would not endanger them. Not for anyone or anything.

"He is loyal to ghosts, Mother" She hissed, almost flinching at the sting in her tone "corpses long buried and a woman who is locked away and little more than a corpse herself!"

"Do not speak of your Queen so!"
She sighed, shaking her head before letting it hang. When she was with child she could not bare conflict and she could feel weariness making her bones seem light weights threatening to send her to the ground.

"I'm sorry, Mother" She murmured "but can't Hal see his loyalty to Lancaster will serve you nothing? That is will cause he and our kin naught but trouble?"

Now Eleanor stared out into the sea, despair for her son echoing in the tired breath she took. The ocean was much akin to her son's mind, outwardly clam but inside restless, ever angry and seeking to destroy those whom he chose to inflict his wrath upon. The sea had always been unforgiving, so had Hal, ever since his Father died, ever since he was taken from her arms.

She could not set him against Lancaster but she wished, oh how she wished, that he could set his loyalties aside for one moment for his own kin! For his sister! Even she had grown weary of his anger and stubbornness. He was more stubborn than the dead he payed homage to!

"He may have the intelligence of your Father but also his stubbornness" She admitted quietly, a smile flitting across her lips at the memory of her departed love "That is not to say that stubbornness cannot be swayed. He still loves you and always will and that love can claim his loyalty. Have him here, do not force a friendship with your husband for I do not think that will ever come to pass but have him around you, around your children"

Catherine glanced at her a curiosity in her eyes that yearned for more "He has an inherent affection for them but if he grows to love them, become protective of them....you will have his fealty. I believe those emotions already reside in him but they are in the shadow of Lancaster as so much is within him"

꧁꧂

Catherine smiled as one hand stroked over her belly, now only hidden by the embroidered linen of her nightgown. Roland lay at her feet, gazing at her with his dark eyes, tail wagging each time she smiled at him. She watched her three ladies maids flit back and forth across the room, tidying away gowns, placing one out for the next day, holding up jewels for her inspection.

Two she had added to her household during the last seven months and she was most pleased by the new additions. To have new companions in her new home had certainly proved a welcome distraction to her as well as providing two new friends.

Eleanor (or Nell as all called her) Percy was a merry redhead, a spritely thing with all the grown maturity of four year old Henry! Her green eyes were big and bright, ever seeing the world through a veil of amusement and opportunity for fun, something Catherine became fast friends with her for.

The children also adored her and five year old Henry had taken following her whenever she was in view, carrying one year old Joan in his arms while she giggled or slept. She played games with them in the nursery when Catherine's pregnancy tired her and was an endless source of jokes during winter and even spring when the cold kept them indoors!

She and Rob had moved to Bamburgh after Anne and Francis' wedding. It had been a merry affair in July with Middleham bathed in the petals of white roses that Richard had attended. Catherine had not but she'd sent an extensive couple of congratulations to the couple, inviting them to stay at Bamburgh whenever they pleased and wishing them every happiness.

Oh how she wished to see her dearest Annie on her wedding day, finally happy after so many years of torment. But she just could not face the castle of her terrors, not with a babe in her belly she felt the place would rip from her.

But she had distracted herself from those grisly thoughts with the news from London! Elizabeth had at last given birth to a second son for England and reports told of what a healthy little mite he was, kicking at his swaddling; already taking an interest in exploring the world. The image conjured made her smile and she knew she would be fond of him.

Margaret Fenn, commonly known as Meg to them now, was the second of her new ladies. While she did not possess Eleanor's bright nature and still reminded Catherine of the little mouse she'd first compared her to, she was the sweetest soul that ever was known! Gentle and meek, she was a tender companion, completely devoted to the Duchess and to her husband who had fallen for her sweetness and soft nature.

All in the castle had and when she rested in the evening and Richard was not available, it was Meg who Catherine sent for to read to her.

Now, she sat beside her Lady, a comb in hand that she gently drew through the flaxen curls, smoothing them with her fingers as she went.
"Did his grace reach an accord with your brother?" She asked quietly and Catherine smiled her tired smile, nodding while Margery and Eleanor arranged necklaces at her dressing table.

"Indeed" She answered "My brother is to have a seat on the council of the North" a sigh left her lips "and all will be well....I am sure of it"
"Your brother is a Percy" Margery called and Catherine chuckled.

"I am a Percy too!" She replied "And so are my children in a way. None of us have burnt our world to the ground yet, I feel sure my brother won't. Not while I'm here"

꧁꧂

2nd of October 1473....

Striding through the hallways of the keep, Joan in his arms and Henry's hand in his, he could not deny the smile the graced his lips; the sparkle in his eyes. He walked with a new spring in his step, a new life to each breath he took and beamed at both of his children, squeezing their little hands.

"Come my little loves!" He said merrily "Your Mother has a gift for you" Henry looked up at him, confused but still hopping along in happy little skips.
"But it is your birthday Father!" He exclaimed "Surely all the gifts should be for you?" Richard's laugh echoed through the hallway and they turned a corner, ascending a twisting flight of stairs.

"True, Henry" He conceded, grinning at Joan when her little hands tugged on his hair "but this gift is for me also! Tis for all of us! You, Joan, I and for England too!"

"For England?" His son questioned as they came to the top of the steps and Richard laughed again, nodding.
"Aye, lad, for your beautiful Mother has gifted the realm another York Prince!"

Henry beamed and began to eagerly tug his Father along the long hallway to where he knew his Mother lay. He had hardly seen her over the past month while she was in her confinement and was eager to see her, even more so he was eager to see his new little brother!

While he adored Joan, he wanted to more than a little girl who played with dolls. He wanted a boy who could command armies with him, a brother who could stand by his side as his Father did his Uncle Edward's! Once he'd learnt the rules and skills of chivalry, he would teach this little boy to fight, to win, to be just like their Father.

Letting go of his hand, Henry ran to the familiar door ahead, reaching up and turning the handle until the heavy wood swung aside. Richard watched him with a smile, following quickly behind and striding over the threshold with Joan in his arms. Immediately his eyes searched for his wife and fell upon her, pale faced, hair loose and curled up in her Mother's embrace with a baby in her arms.

Their second son.

Eleanor pressed a cool cloth to her daughter's damp forehead as the little boy mewled, his tiny hands reaching upwards out of his bundle of blankets to grasp at the world. Catherine smiled, albeit tiredly, and made to sit up on her pillows, allowing her Mother to help and keep her comfortable. She propped her up on a pillow; draped a blanket over her body.

"There, my jewel" She whispered, gathering her rumpled skirts "I will leave you" Catherine peered up at her like a child, nuzzling into the palm that cupped her cheek "All you need do is ask and I will come" She nodded slowly, watching her Mother curtsy before she slipped away, silently closing the door behind her.

"Mother!" Henry's loud cry jerked her from her dreamlike state and she smiled again. He clambered eagerly onto the mattress, snuggling into her side, tucking his head onto her shoulder and staring down at the pink-faced child she held. One finger reached out, brushing it across the baby's head "a boy?"

She nodded and Richard approached, setting Joan down onto the covers. The little girl studied her Mother carefully, tilting her little head before she crawled towards her. The linen was soft beneath her hands and she smiled, looking at her tiny fingers as she crawled to her Mother's side, curling up.

"Mama" She whispered softly, almost immediately falling asleep in the familiar warmth she pressed against. As well as her brother, Joan too had not seen her Mother often and now clung to her; content. She did not care much for the new babe, she didn't really understand, and only stared at the wriggling pink creature before nuzzling into her Mother's side again.

"She'll grow to love him" Richard chuckled and Catherine agreed with a nod, willing him to come closer to see their son.
"He's our boy" She whispered, feeling her heart jump at the overjoyed tears that pricked his blue eyes "Our second boy, our very own Richard!" Now it was his turn to nod, heart welling with pride at his new son's name.

"I know" He said and his quiet laugh echoed around the chamber "I know my love" Holding out his hands, that almost trembled with happiness despite him trying his hardest to hold them still, his smile widened "May I hold him?" He asked quietly, a sincere note of question in his voice despite knowing she'd never say no "May I hold our son?"

Feeling tears of adoration well in her tired eyes, Catherine nodded, holding out the little bundle of blankets and sighing when Richard took it, allowing her to relax into her pillows once more. Her two children instantly curled into her, little Joan nuzzling into her neck and Henry tucked sweetly against her side, holding her tight.

"Are you well, Mother?" He asked when he peered up at her, one soft hand tenderly stroking away the damp curls from her face "Did baby cause much trouble?"
"No, my love" She replied and his little face relaxed enough for him to lay his head on her shoulder while she stroked his golden hair.

Richard rocked their son slowly from side to side, gazing down into his little face with all the love in the world.

"He is like Joan" He murmured, holding out a finger for the baby to take "Your eyes and my hair! By God he is perfect, Cate" His eyes found hers and they both smiled, filled with pride and gratitude for their new little one and his good health "Thank you" He whispered "Thank you, ma belle"

A quiet knock sounded at the door and Richard called for entry, smiling when a serving girl walked through the door, a tray in hand. A sweet scent filled the air, sharpening Catherine's somewhat dulled senses and restoring a little life to her exhausted body. On the silver tray lay four tarts, encased with buttered pastry and filled with strawberries covered in a sugar glaze.

Her mouth watered at the sight.

"Ah here we are, my love!" Richard exclaimed, gesturing for the girl to place the tray upon the bed before waving her away "Strawberry tarts!" Catherine suddenly frowned slightly as she remembered the day, a fact that had escaped her with the pains of labour.

"I thought we would be having apple ones? They are your favourite, strawberry is mine!"
Richard merely laughed and scooped one of the said tarts from the tray, handing it to an eager Henry who took a hearty bite.
"I know"

Her eyes widened as he passed one to Joan and she watched him, carefully, almost confused.
"You made my favourite tarts on your birthday, Richard?" She asked and he shrugged, picking up the third tart and offering it to her. When she didn't lift her arms he put it gently against her lips and coaxed her to take a bite, relishing the look of bliss that washed over her pale face; the tongue that flicked her lower lip, relishing every crumb.

"I did!" He said when she took a second "Really my love, you have spent the past day bringing our new son into the world! If anyone deserves their favourite tarts it's you!" Licking her lips again, her smile returned and if she hadn't had her children atop her, she would've leant forward to kiss him!

"By God what did I ever do to deserve such a man as you, Richard of York?"