~Unforgotten, Unforgiven~

September 1474, Alnwick Castle, Northumberland....

Catherine could not help the butterflies that filled her stomach as she stepped into the chapel of Alnwick Castle. It had been nine years, nine long years since she'd set foot on her family's land and yet as she stared around, it was unmistakably all the same. The same pale stone, the same tall towers.

The only change was that Percy banners fluttered from the windows once more, the red and yellow linen almost glowing in the Autumn sun. They had been freshly cleaned for the wedding day and many red roses lay about, a slight of any York was to see them but Catherine wouldn't tell and she was sure Richard wouldn't either when he arrived.

It would be any moment now for while she and their children had arrived the prior night, he had had a meeting of the North to attend to.

A velvet carpet lay beneath her feet, softening the footsteps that had moments ago echoed along the corridors. Multicoloured light descended on the skirts of her gown as she stepped into the vast chamber, streaming from windows she had known as long as she breathed.

She had been christened in this chapel, been held in her Mother's arms and her Father's while the Priest murmured sacred words she was not yet able to understand.

This was where her life truly began and where it now became complete, in the mids of  rows of stone effigies depicting her descendants. The heroes of the stories her grandfather had once told her.

Their magnificent graves filled her gaze and she couldn't help but smile, a feeling of solace filling her heart. Now that Alnwick was returned to Percy hands, it did not feel like the stranger it had become in Neville ones. Nine years ago she had felt out of place, an intruder in her own home but now....now it felt right near she smiled.

She let the shards of blue, red, yellow and green light fall on her face, warming her skin, warming her heart as she took the rosary from her belt and clutched it close.
"Thank you" She whispered and kissed the cold beads "thank you for bringing me home"

"Sister?" Her head jerked up, eyes flying open and blowing wide at the sound of her brother's voice. How had she not seen him when she entered? He stood beside their Father's grave, a rosary almost identical to hers wrapped around his calloused hands. But it was not only that, he almost shone in the light of the son, garbed in cloth of silver that sparkled each time he moved.

A golden chain of office sat on his shoulders and his hair was freshly washed, making the dark curls shine on his head. His wedding attire was certainly a sight to behold but so were the tears that streamed down his face, glistening in the depths of his eyes.

"Henry...." Picking up her skirts, she went to him, moving swiftly around the stone to take him in her arms. It suddenly struck her that they had never mourned their Father together, never stood at his grave as they did now and it seemed Hal remembered too for as soon as her arms went around him he began to sob.

"Those bastards" He hissed through his tears "They took you from me....from all of us and then took me too" He shook his head against her shoulder and she clutched him closer. In that moment his hatred burned brighter than she had ever seen it too and he suddenly tore himself from her arms.

His hands gripped the side of their Father's grave, his tears darkening the pale stone as he clenched his jaw. He shook his head "Those bastards" he said again and she could see he trembled "I will kill them, I swear I will kill them for what they did to us, for what they did to all of us"

"No" Catherine whispered "No, Hal you will not do that" Another sob passed his lips and he hung his head.

"I can't bear it" He admitted "Most of the time I am well, I can deal with the storm inside of me but when I am here, when I see him" His eyes drifted to their Father's face, carved in stone so long ago that Catherine couldn't remember if it was a likeness "I want to kill every York every Neville I see...."

He spoke with a bitterness made strong over many years and at last his sobs stopped, replaced with anger "They killed our Father" He hissed "Our grandfather too. They took you and then me from our Mother's arms...." Catherine shook her head.
"Why do you waste your strength on anger Hal?" She asked "After all these years"

"I cannot forget" He snapped "And I cannot forgive"
"But at me sometimes!" She reasoned "At Mother too, she tells me! You push away the people that love you.... why?" His breaths steadied somewhat and wiped away the remaining tears with the sleeve of his doublet, dampening the fine cloth - not that he cared.

Sad eyes found hers and he gently took her hand, smoothing his thumb over her knuckles.
"It's been that way ever since Father died, ever since I was taken....now I suppose I'm scared everyone I love will leave me so I do not allow myself the warmth of others, Cate"

Her heart twisted with pain and instantly her free hand came up to cradle his face. The feeling he'd confided was one she knew well, the dark shadow that held itself over the heart, whispering doubt whenever it fluttered with affection. It was a demon in itself and a wave of sympathy overcame her for her brother.

"I was like that for a time too" She confessed "but you must not isolate your wife from your heart. Love her, love her well, Hal and then perhaps you can heal" Hal merely shrugged, turning back to their Father's grave with a heavy heart.
"As you have done because of Richard?"

Catherine smiled and nodded, allowing herself to gaze at their Father's face properly, running a finger along the cold lines and curves.
"Exactly, brother" She said "he is a good man, the very best, you can trust him and in time he will trust you"

"Cate?" Both brother and sister's heads jerked up at the sound of Richard's voice as he entered the chapel, dressed in York murrey and blue with his dark hair windswept. It was clear he'd only just arrived and Hal went ridged, squaring his shoulders and blinking back any tears that remained.

"My Lord Gloucester" He greeted, clasping his hands behind his back. While he'd admitted that her husband was the York he least hated, he still held a wariness towards him. Richard simply smiled, striding over.
"My Lord Northumberland!" He replied with a little more enthusiasm and walked around the grave to place a hand on his brother in law's shoulder "It is an honour to be here on your wedding day" Hal nodded.

"I'm....happy you came, my Lord, along with my sister, nephews and niece" Catherine smiled up at him, thankful that he was at least being civil before he turned to their Father's grave "Have you met the previous rightful Earl of Northumberland?" She grimaced slightly. Of course he wouldn't pass up a chance to inflict even the slightest bit of guilt onto her husband.

No matter how petty it was.

Richard's smile faltered and he crossed himself, turning to face the stone effigy and nodding.
"Your Father, I take it?" Both Hal and Catherine nodded, the former's eyes narrowing slightly when Richard placed his hands atop the stone ones that were clasped over the dead Earl's sword "I know he was a fine warrior. I wish I'd met him when he lived"

"If you did that, I think you would find yourself the one in a tomb, not him" Hal murmured and Richard raised his eyebrows.
"I'm sure. He waged quite the war to claim Catherine back. I remember it well. He was an honourable man."

There was a sincere solemnity to his voice that made the Earl's expression soften ever so slightly. Only Catherine noticed it and she felt a small smile flutter across her lips. Richard could not have said anything better and it made even Hal a little happier.
Slowly reaching out, he hesitantly placed a hand on his brother in law's shoulder and looked him in the eye.

It was perhaps the first time he had done so without ire.

"I'm glad that you are here" He said "Truly....Richard"
"As am I" Richard replied "Henry"

꧁꧂

More eyes were on Richard than the bride at the wedding feast that night for Hal had invited near all of the old Lancastrian nobility and while they were not there to start a fight at their friend's nuptials, they certainly were not going to go out of their way to make an enemy feel welcome.

Most of the Lancastrian Lords that had fought at the beginning of the cousin's war were dead. These were their sons, sons like Hal who held an ever deepening hatred for the House of York and anyone who they could blame for murdering their Fathers. Richard, (never one who'd liked being under the eyes of many) squirmed in his seat, keeping his goblet always filled to the brim in an effort to calm his nerves.

His fingers played with the hilt of his dagger and he tried to avoid the stares of hatred cast in his direction. Once he would've been able to say he'd never killed any of their kin, that it was his Father and cousins they should take their anger out on but now, after Tewksbury and Barnet, he knew he could no longer swear to that.

"You look like a sheep in the lion's den" A quiet voice said beside him and Richard turned sharply to see it was the bride herself that addressed him. Garbed in a gown of light blue and smiling, she seemed a kind soul but he'd not heard her speak once all evening. Now he couldn't fathom weather she made to tease him or ease him!

"More like a fly in the spiders web!" He replied and she laughed, taking a sip of wine "for I am well and truly trapped here!"

"What can I say, while York is on the throne, the sons of Lancaster will not forget what they've suffered. Nor will you I imagine" He glanced at her again to see amusement shining in the dark brown depths of her eyes and he couldn't help but smile, deciding she wasn't tormenting him.

"I nor Catherine" He sighed "Have you met her yet? Your sister in law?" They both glanced to where Catherine stood amidst a crowd of Lancastrian nobles, garbed in her family colours and completely in her element. She laughed and smiled without strain, talking to those around her without warinesses.

Despite the events of 1470, she still somehow managed to slide smoothly back into Lancastrian ranks and seemed completely at home there despite having lived much longer amongst York ones.

"I have" Maud replied "I met her earlier tonight and I like her, she seems kind"
"She is" Richard affirmed "The kindest woman I have ever known and the Mother of our three children, of which I think you have met the eldest?" Maud smiled; took another sip of her wine.

"Little Henry? Aye, I've met him and a sweet thing he is too....I think he is with her grace now?"
Richard peered over his cup and, sure enough, Henry was by Catherine's side, his little hand in hers and staring at the noblemen around him in awe. Their talk of war and court inspired him and he gazed at the bejewelled daggers on their belts; envious.

Walking to his uncle, he extended his arm upwards and Hal grinned down at him, swinging him swiftly into his arms.

"He's a fine boy, your grace" The Earl of Oxford remarked, easily Hal's oldest and most trusted friend. Catherine remembered them playing together during her first trip to court and smiled at him.
"Thank you, my Lord, it is my hope my brother will have a son as strong as my Henry!"

"Do you think I will, John?" Hal chuckled and Oxford nodded.

"Of course! Many!" He lowered his voice somewhat "At least one being them bearing the name of our dearly departed King" all at once the men around him raised their goblets and even Catherine could not help but do so as well, crossing herself.
"King Henry is at peace now" She said "And Edward of York is King" A sigh travelled around the group and Hal raised his eyebrows, looking towards the dais where his wife and Richard sat.

"I would begrudgingly prefer his little brother" He grunted and murmurs of agreement went around the group "at least he has you at his side to vouch for us. The Woodvilles have all turned their backs"

꧁꧂

New Year's Day, 1475, Warkworth Castle, Northumberland....

It was early in the morning when Catherine finally clambered into bed beside Richard (rather drunk with all the wine she'd consumed) and past midday when she finally rose. The curtains of their rounded bedchamber had been drawn back (and a fire lit) allowing light to floor into the room and Catherine shielded her eyes from it when she sat up; groaning.

Glancing to the side, she placed a hand to the covers to find them cold. Richard must've left many hours ago, she thought, and sighed, stretching her limbs one by one before reaching for the robe at the end of her bed. It was Richard's but she did not care and wrapped the heavy velvet around her shoulders, letting it drown her slender frame.

The stone floor was icy beneath her feet and she grimaced at the unpleasant feeling as she walked to the window and gazed out of the frosted panes. The outside was a blur and she turned away with a sigh, feeling her stomach rumble when she saw a silver tray on the coffer at the foot of the bed. Bread, meat and cheese lay on a large silver plate beside a goblet of wine and she took it up eagerly although one sniff of the heady scent made her put it down again.

She had had more than enough to drink the previous night! Perhaps too much, she thought, taking up the plate and tucking herself back into bed. Tearing off a small chunk of ham she popped it into her mouth and sank contently into the covers.

New Years Eve had certainly been a night to remember, of that she was sure! Richard and Hal had created a drinking competition and drunk until they both dropped, she and Maud had danced until their feet ached and then she and Richard had made love in a corridor of all places! They were too drunk to care if they were caught! She remembered thinking if her Mother and Father had enjoyed such jovial times within Warkworth's walls and hoped they had, biting into her slice of cheese with a sigh.

Really, what made her happiest was that her husband and brother finally seemed to be getting along!

They had resided alongside each other for almost four months and that forced companionship appeared to have dissolved into true friendship. Every time she saw them talking together in a corner or over dinner it made her grin! Picking up the slice of fluffy bread, smothered in butter, she spied a piece of paper beneath and smiled at the words on it.

Hunting with your brother
Eat well, ma belle
- R ♡︎

A finger brushed over the small heart and her smile widened despite her mouthful of bread. Her husband truly was sweeter than sweetmeats.

"Mother? Mother are you awake?"

Her eldest sons voice called to her through the door of her chamber and she smiled; called her entry. Open swung the heavy wood and through walked Henry with Joan's small hand in his. Roland trotted beside him with one year old Dickon on his back who grinned and gurgled with delight at the soft fur between his tiny fingers. 

While Roland was old, he was still able to carry the weight of a babe and (as young Richard could not yet walk steadily) Henry took great pleasure in lifting his little brother onto the great wolfhound's back. Catherine grinned at the sight and Dickon giggled urging Roland on like his own personal steed to the bedside.

With a grunt, the great dog leapt easily onto the covers and the babe on his back tumbled to them, shrieking with laughter.
"Ah, my little one!" Catherine cooed. She swept him easily into her arms, setting her breakfast aside for a cuddle with her youngest child and he went eagerly. Nuzzling into her neck, he inhaled her sweet scent; smiled.

"Maman" He gurgled as his brother and sister clambered up beside him, settling next to Roland as their eager little hands reached for the food.
"Good morning, Mama" Joan said through a mouthful of bread and crawled onto Henry's lap, handing him a piece of cheese.

"Good morning, my love" Catherine replied "Are you all well?" Her three children nodded "Did you see your Father go?"

"We did!" Henry replied happily "Uncle Hal too! They were talking of war!" Her stomach dropped and her smile faded to a concerned frown. War? What need had they to talk of war when England was at peace?
"War, Henry? What war?"
"With France" The boy replied, almost proudly "Uncle Hal and Father were saying there shall be a war this year!"

Catherine grimaced and her hands instinctively tightened around her youngest son. So George's poison had even reached her brother and now he sought the war with France too? It seemed unbelievable that Hal would fight beside the Yorks but he wouldn't see it that way, he would only see an opportunity to use his skill and his rage.

Neither he nor Richard payed any mind to the danger it seemed, they only saw adventure and honour.

"Ah! You are awake, Catherine!" There was no mistaking Nell Percy's merry voice as she hopped into the room, sprigs of holly and berries still intertwined in her hair from the night before.
"I see you have not been to sleep!" Nell blushed and a girlish giggle passed her lips.
"Rob and I decided to....go and see the gardens" She explained and Catherine arched an eyebrow.

"The gardens? I see" She chuckled "Well, what have you come here to do, Nell?" As if she had suddenly remembered Nell exclaimed and reached into the bodice of her gown, producing a letter, sealed with the Neville crest.
"Here!" Her lady said, leaning over the three children to pass it to her "It came just this morning! Margery and Meg will be along soon. Shall I take the little ones?"

"No! No!" Catherine mumbled with a wave of her hands, now entirely occupied with the parchment quickly unfolding in her hands "Leave them, Nell, they are content and so am I!" Nell smiled and dipped into a curtsy, slipping back out of the room and closing the door.

"Is it from Annie?" Henry asked and his Mother nodded, smoothing out the paper so she could read her friend's near handwriting clearly.

My dear friend and Duchess,

I write to you with the happiest tidings of my marriage. You may have made note of my lack of letters these past months and now I can provide an explanation for you! I have been in childbed, resting and praying while my belly swelled and on Christmas Day in the year of our Lord 1474, I gave birth to a daughter.

She is a healthy little thing with rosy cheeks and plump hands and both Francis and I are delighted. She is safe (thank God) and so is she though it was a difficult birth in which I laboured for three days and the physician orders I rest until Spring. I do not mind! All I care of is my child! She was christened the day after her birth in the Middleham Chapel (something which I dare hope may banish the memories you have of that particular place for happier ones).

We christened her Lady Catherine Lovell and we both hope you accept this gift as Francis and I hold you dear in our hearts. Once I am well again I would wish to see you, dear friend at Bamburgh, then our little ones can meet as can we and our husbands!

It would be a joy to see you all again and allow you to see your little namesake!

I wish you well, dear Cat, as I hope you wish me the same, and pray we use this new life (as we did with Joan) as the stabilising of the foundations of our friendship which I hold dearly.

Happy new year my friend!

~ Anne Lovell, Baroness Lovell

Tears pricked Catherine's eyes and she looked up with a smile, laughing. Three pairs of eyes stared at her and she gathered her children close; kissed each of their heads.

"Annie has had a daughter!" She told them and Henry exclaimed in delight while little Joan and Dickon simply smiled and clapped their hands. They did not know Anne very well and their little memories would not allow them to remember her.
"May they be happy!" Joan said sweetly and her Mother smiled, nodding in agreement.

"Catherine Lovell" She whispered "I am honoured!"