~George, the Devil's Hand~

January 1474, Sheen Palace....

The chamber smelt heavily of wine, smoke and sweat that covered the bodies wound together, laughing on the floor. Blankets were strewn around them, fallen in a heap from the King's bed long ago and candles guttered, almost extinguished from how long their flames had licked at the melting wax. It almost appeared like a fine brothel.

Drunken laughs echoed, followed by soft moans and pants, the trickle of alcohol into silver goblets. Edward was at the centre of it all surrounded by four women who all smiled adoringly at his tousled hair and almost boyish expression made bright with lust.

They had played a game, a game of chance and debauchery where if a member lost what they had betted they had to remove an item of clothing. It was a bawdy activity of Edwards division of course but had rather proved successful, for him at least.

He was down to his shirt and breeches and the woman beneath him down to only her shift as he used one hand to slide a crimson stocking from her leg. Another sat still in her kirtle with her breasts on display and another completely nude, laying on her front with a mischievous gleam in her eyes.

Jane was the only one still mostly clothed and lounged on the King's bed as she watched the scene before her, gown partially unlaced with the sleeves hanging off her slender shoulders, revealing pale skin dotted with freckles. Richard shook his head from where he and Catherine sat by the fire, averting his eyes with a disgusted grimace. How could his brother dishonour the Queen so? In public, with his brothers, Catherine and Lord Stanley watching?

He grimaced again, trying to swallow the bile that rose in his throat.
"Ma belle" He murmured "you needn't be privy to such unbridled behaviour"

"Ah, Dickon, is that your prudish voice I hear?" Edward called between hearty gulps of Burgundian wine he shared with the woman beneath him and Richard gritted his teeth; took his wife's hand.
"Call me a prude if you wish brother but I imagine some would call you far worse because unlike you I've never been with a whore"

"Are you so sure?"

All sober eyes in the room shot to George who was lingering in one corner like a shadow, a greyhound in his lap and eyes lit by the candles beside him. They had a dangerous glint to them, one that coaxed, that dared his brother to challenge his words and challenge them Richard did.

"George I swear to all the saints if you are saying what I think you are then...." George merely laughed, smirking when his little brother rose from the chaise by the fire with his fists clenched in rage.
"Peace, little brother! I meant nothing by it" He replied "Catherine is a paragon of virtue as I have known since we were children....when we were friends"

Catherine looked up at that, finding those eyes of malicious blue watching her and scoffed.
"I don't believe this is the way to conduct your court" Richard remarked, looking back to Edward "Really, Ned, you are King! You are meant to set an example!"

The candles flickered and Edward raised his head from the breasts he'd been entertaining himself with.
"Oh come on, Richard! Don't be such a sour mouth" He grunted pushing himself from the floor on wobbly legs. Snapping for another goblet of wine, he snatched the one Stanley extended and finished it on one large gulp.

George rolled his eyes.

"Actually, Edward, he's right" He said and both his little brother and Catherine frowned. George agreeing with them certainly was a rarity and something that immediately aroused questions in their minds of what he wanted to gain.

Richard almost cursed himself for it, that his mind would immediately jump to a dark path when it came to his brother but how could he be blamed? George was the author of the destruction of the relationship between he and his brothers "Half of England's already calling you a wastrel"

"More than half" Richard murmured as he sat and Catherine took his hand again "This is not what we fought for!"

"Yes it is!" Edward replied sharply "Peace and plenty! It's exactly what we fought for!"

"Whoring?" George scoffed and Jane glared at him, tossing fire-like ringlets over a bear shoulder "Really? What about a legacy? Don't you want to be remembered?" She rose from the bed, letting her hips sway as she wandered to her King and coaxed him into a kiss.

"I will be remembered" He snapped as she settled into his arms and George scoffed again.
"Yes. For being a whore and lazy"
"And what do you suggest George?"

The second son of York looked around, eyes glinting with a sense of power as attention was diverted to him. Oh how he relished it, the eyes on him, even Catherine and Richard's, waiting for his words no matter weather they were good or bad. He paused a moment longer, letting them all linger in wonder before he finally spoke.

"We take France" An audible gasp went around the room and Catherine felt Richard sit up straighter beside her "And win back the honour England lost when Henry lost our lands there!"
"A very sudden interest in the honour of your country, George?" He questioned, eyes narrowing when George turned to him.

"Think of it!" He exclaimed, looking between his kin with avid ambition "our line is secure, we have four York Princes! Edward, Henry and two little Richard's! We have never been safer from harm! Our ancestors held an empire in France, one of the greatest but it was lost, the last of it lost by mad old Henry" He saw Catherine grimace at that and smirked "What, that notion offends you Catherine?"

"What offends me George, is you speaking ill of a man who held more honour in his little finger then you possess in your entire body!" Edward smiled somewhat at that and took up another goblet of wine, offering some to Jane before taking the rest for himself.
"I doubt he would be happy you are defending him in death" George snapped "since you were the one who...."

The King's head jerked up and he almost pushed his mistress from his arms, expression seething, as he strode across the room and snatched George by the collar. Despite his debauched appearance, he still towered over his brother and George instinctively tried to shrink away only to be pulled back with one firm tug.

Despite his outwardly cocky and flippant nature, he could never deny Edward had the power to scare him.

"Finish that sentence and I swear you will be gone from this earth by nightfall" The King hissed "Foolish git" Relinquishing his harsh grasp, George stumbled back, rubbing at the side of his neck where the King's rings had cut into the skin. But the short lived fear that had made him cower was just that, short lived, and quickly dissipated.

"Why not?" He reasoned, following Edward "You need a legacy and if we take France!" He shook his head, smiling again "No! When we take France, you will need a regent! I can do that! You are the King and Richard has ten titles as well as the whole of the North of England to himself" He spoke with bitterness but still Catherine laughed; tilted her head.

"Have you been counting, George?"
Richard chuckled and Edward grinned, causing their brother to seethe behind the mask of a smile he kept.

"France" The King repeated, drawing Jane to him again "Reclaim our land....perhaps we should" taking her in his arms, he kissed her full on the lips and began to lead her to the adjoining room "Stanley"

The wiry man stepped forward.
"Your grace"
"Seek the advantages of this"
He bowed, his ever present smile showing pearly teeth as he left the room, a spring in his step. So he hungered for war too, she thought, and disliked him even less for it!

God, the King could not truly be thinking of another war? Another heavy burden to England when they had only removed one less than three years ago? What would happen to the people? They were still trying to rebuild their lives and, more than that, it would take her husband away, place him in danger. She grimaced at the thought and shook her head.

"I need air" Richard murmured and in a moment was gone too, carding a hand through his hair; shoulders rigid with stress. A stress they now both felt but George clearly did not. She followed his shadowy figure when he walked to the window and rose, watching him carefully as if he would draw a knife on her.

He would if he felt he needed to, she thought, but she was also sure she could draw her own first.

"He may have forgotten your turn to Warwick" She muttered "but I have not, nor has Richard" He turned with a careless scoff and their eyes met across the room, drawing closer as he approached her. Clearly he meant to scare, to threaten, to corner her like a wolf would but she did not relinquish one step.

She had been well schooled in fear and she could withstand it. Any and all of it.

She would not be defeated by meaningless steps, by their heavy pound that echoed with danger. What harm would he dare do her here, in earshot of the King and her husband? None. Besides, if he dared try harm her, he would get a nasty shock from the dagger she had taken to hiding in her sleeve when she knew he was around.

"And I have not forgotten you have the North and Warwick Castle, despite the fact the title belongs to me" He stepped into the light of the fire, just a breath away and his face was harshly lit, exaggerating the thinness of it, the crescents under his eyes, erasing all trace of youth "You, Richard and Edward have your faith share already" He said, his voice now softer and yet somehow more menacing, like the breeze before a storm. A warning "So maybe it's time I started to take things"

Smiling slightly, he nodded and turned away, sweeping a jug of wine from the nearby table and taking it with him.

It was his only solace and Catherine almost pitied him.
Almost.

꧁꧂

July 1474, Bamburgh Beach, Northumberland....

Letting the salty sea breeze blow against her skin, Catherine hitched her skirts a little higher, allowing her toes to sink into the golden grains beneath them. Her shoes and stockings sat beside her, covered in flecks of sand and slim bars of shadow caused by the marram grass brushing against her when it dipped low enough.

The sun beat down on her skin, warming and blinding  whenever she didn't lift a hand to shade her eyes. She did that now, smiling at the sight of Henry and Joan playing on the beach, just at the edge of the rippling waves. They'd thrown their little stockings and shoes to the side and (hand in little hand) begun to paddle in the shallows.

Despite the summer heat, the water still proved icy and Joan squealed every time it touched her tiny toes.
Henry held up her skirts for her with his free hand and grinned, pleased that he was her sworn protector for the day! Margery cared for Joan and his Father was attending the council of the North, leaving him in charge before he left at dawn.

"You are the man of the household today lad" Richard told him, chucking him under the chin before mounting his horse and disappearing into the light of the rising sun.

Now, Joan beamed up at him, stamping her feet in the water and giggling.
"Cold, Henny!" She squealed and he laughed with her, squeezing her hand "Cold!"

From the sand dunes, Catherine chuckled, her chest full of love for her two little angels and the one that slept in the Keep. Roland lay beside her, panting but content in the sun with his Mistress. In previous summers he would've been on the sands with the children, barking and bounding around like a fluffy acrobat! But it was not to be anymore.

At fourteen, Roland was now an old boy and spent more of his time sleeping at either Richard or Catherine's feet or in their lap. It was a sad thing to see him lose his light a little but they didn't love him any less. If anything it made them love him more, especially when baby Dickon sat on Catherine's lap by the fire and he curled up beside them.

Sometimes the two would go to sleep together, with Dickon laying on Roland's back, little fingers fisted into his grey fur. Neither of his parents had ever seen a sweeter sight.

"What do you think?" She asked, smiling when his ears perked up "Shall we be at war again?" Ever since January, rumours of war with France had been stirred and stirred around England by the hand of its own resident Satan, George. Even Richard's mind had been captured by it when a web of honour and valour spun itself around him.

Never could he resist such a task and Catherine knew that "Oh don't look at me like that, Roland" She said when the great wolfhound raised his head.
"You talk to your dog?"

The deep voice behind startled her but it was flippant with mirth and she would've needed to be deaf not to recognise it!

"Indeed I do, brother" She said with a smile as Hal sat on the dunes beside her and unlaced his boots "for while he cannot reply, he often speaks far more sense than those around me. What brings you to Bamburgh?"

"His grace, the Duke of Gloucester of course" He replied, an edge of irritation in his voice as he lay his boots aside "He commanded me to return with him after the council and we Lords of the North are at his beck and call like your wolfhound here, trailing after his young heels" Roland peered up at him, giving an affronted huff before closing his eyes again. Catherine merely sighed. She could not be angry at her brother's resentment towards York but she still was tired of it.

She was tired of any and all conflict.

"Call him Richard, please Hal! And don't sound so resentful, he wishes for you two to be friends!" His face softened somewhat and he coaxed her to rest her head on his shoulder, one affectionate arm around hers.
"I know I know" He grunted "and I don't....I don't disregard his efforts, sister. Of all his brothers I believe he is the most....decent but he is still" His disgusted grimace was unmistakable "a York"

"I am a York"
"You are a Percy" He corrected firmly which served to make her sigh again despite the flicker of warmth that pricked at her heart. To know she was still a Percy to her kin soothed her injured childhood soul.
"Nevertheless the Yorks hold power and they always will from now on. There are none left to challenge them. None of Lancaster anyway"

Hal couldn't help but nod at that.
"They killed our King, our Prince" His sister pushed herself from his shoulder, blinking back the tears that filled her eyes and making it appear she was brushing sand from her gown "and they hold our Queen captive, Cate. We have no choice but to obey it seems"

"It seems it because it is true, Hal" She retorted, a little sharper than intended "you would do well to remember that. Richard wishes to grant you power and position because of the love I bear you and the sway he knows our family holds over the nobility. We are loved in the North and he knows that" Hal lay back on the sands, folding strong arms behind his head to occupy his eyes with the soft clouds above.

How peaceful the heavens seemed compared to mortal earth.

"I'm starting to think your family is more loved than us now" He mused quietly when she joined him "After all, I will admit, your husband is a merciful ruler and you have always been beloved by the people for your Percy blood and your generosity. You are all but King and Queen of these lands now" Catherine smiled, the joy of the day filling her body again as she pushed Prince Edward from her mind; playfully nudged her brother.

"Then perhaps you could serve your King and Queen with less bitterness, brother?"
His laugh of reply ascended to the winds.
"If my Queen commands it!"

"She does! But I would rather you do it of your own free will! Now, tell me" She propped herself up onto her elbows and stared down at him. How much did he look like their Father, she wondered. Did he even know or was Henry Percy a ghost to both their minds? "what did Richard want of you?"

"To look over some plans he has for the land" Hal sighed "He wishes for us to work together on them but in truth I was going to come to you anyway"
"Oh?"

Now, he sat up, brining his knees up to his chest and averting his eyes from hers. A sheepish flush made it way up his pale neck and he began to fiddle with his fingers, twisting the rings on them back and forth. That certainly peaked her interest and she tilted her head: curious.

"I wish to invite you and your family to...." His voice faded away and he found the courage to face her, taking her hand as if to reassure himself "To my wedding"

A gasp filled the air. Catherine's eyes went wide.
"Your wedding?" She cried; disbelieving "You're to be married Hal?" He nodded, continuing to redden like a tomato.

"Yes. This Autumn to Maud Herbert. She's a gentle soul and would like to meet you as I would like you to meet her. If you wish for your family to be untied with our Percy kin then what better way of making a show of friendship then having you at the wedding of the Earl of Northumberland?" Heart leaping in her chest, a hand came up to cradle his cheek, staring into the blue eyes that were exactly like her own, exactly like their Mother's.

It was the first time he had ever genuinely spoken of any alliance between their two houses, any true peace that was not feigned for the sake of prevented bloodshed. No, was sincere, she could tell, but still had to make sure. 

"Do you mean it, Hal? Truly?"

He smiled and brought up a hand of his own to gently catch her chin in his fingers, something he'd always done as a child. When they were sweet and innocent.
"I would never marry without you there to witness it, dear Cate, we have missed too much of one another's lives! And....if you wish" The embarrassed red returned to his cheeks "I would like you to stay on after for a while at Warkworth. It was....."

She nodded.
"Our Father's favourite residence" Hot tears stung her eyes and she smiled, almost laughing "Yes, its one of the few things I remember"

"Uncle Hal! Uncle Hal!" They both turned to the sea where Catherine's two children played, their clothes damp and hair windswept. Henry waved to them, Joan's hand still in his and grinned at his Uncle "Come and play with us!" He called "We are waging a war on the sea!" A single tear of joy slid down his Mother's cheek when her brother rose with a grin, hopping down the dunes to the beach.

"A war on the sea, lad?" He called affectionately "Well that is a campaign I simply must be apart of! Show me what skills of the sword you have learnt since we last met, Henry!"

Even God in the heavens above could see Henry was more than glad to show his Uncle what he'd learnt! And, no doubt, he could also see the happiness that filled Catherine's heart.