~King Richard the Third~

She paced back and forth in her bedchamber, the fire unlit and still dressed in her nightgown, a light woollen shawl; hair a loose mess down her back. She hadn't allowed her ladies to come to her, nor the servants and she knew it must be well past midday but she didn't care. Time was the one thing she couldn't bare to think about and it was the one thing they didn't have.

Murmurs of suspicion already filled the air and swirled around them like angry mist. Why had the King not been crowned? When would he be crowned? Why had the Queen fled to sanctuary? What had the Lord Protector done?

Oh, but it was not what he had done, Catherine thought, it was what he was yet to do! What he couldn't do! He just couldn't....

She bit her nails, still pacing, a tight band wound around her chest and heart hammering like the beat of a war drum, calling soldiers to battle. She didn't want another battle but she couldn't help but fear it was one Richard would charge into.

He was a seasoned commander, a York Prince and while he would not break his promise to his brother, he would not leave his country weak either. He loved his nephews, the last he had of his brother, but despite that love, he knew what everyone else felt.

No one would select a boy King if they had a choice. No one wanted a child to lead them when they could have a man. A man with heirs, a man who knew his own mind and had the trust of the nobility. If stability was what the people were looking for, Richard was the choice. If he took the throne he could stabilise England and eradicate any threats to its government, namely the Woodvilles, or rather the dowager Queen.

Catherine sank down next to the ashen hearth, the white fur lain before it soft on her skin.

"How has it come to this?" She wondered, running the pale tuffs between her fingers and looking at the cards laid out on top of it. Just two nights prior, Richard had sat there, teaching young Dickon to play while Henry read his book on chivalry, trying in earnest to memorise each page.

Her fingers brushed across the oval cut cards of layered paper, carefully painted with a myriad of colours. Two caught her eye, side by side the image of a woman and a man, or rather a King and his Queen, she dark haired like Catherine, he dark haired like Richard. In one hand, he held a sword of state, the other held aloft, pointing to a black heart. Catherine frowned.

'Richard is not black hearted' She thought, far from it, he loved his family and his country but what would he be viewed as if he took the throne? A usurper? A tyrant? A traitor? Her body shuddered at the last word and she drew the thin woollen shawl around her body a little tighter.

"Sister?" The muffled call of her brother made her jump and her eyes darted towards the door "Sister?" He called again and she sighed, getting to her feet as she called for him to enter. Hal was inside with the speed of lighting and shutting the door firmly behind him again.

He looked rather as dishevelled as she, his doublet partially unlaced and without his jewels "What are you doing? Are you well?" He asked, striding over to her "Your ladies are worried out of their little heads and Richard is nowhere to be found either!" Catherine began to turn away from him but his hands appeared on her shoulders, holding her fast "What is it, Cate? You're my little sister, it pains me to see you sad!"

She stared at him almost incredulously.
"How can you not know what worries me?" She hissed, twisting out of his grip "Do you think the knowledge we have learnt is somehow easy? Do you think I can think of anything else? Do you think my heart is not filled with guilt every time I even dwell on it and think of how it may change the course of our country? The course of my family? It is the opposite of easy"

"It is easy to me!" He replied and she scoffed, sitting by the fire again; looking over the cards. Of course it was easy for Hal, he never had any qualms about taking power from Yorks, especially the late Edward and his offspring.

"Well it is not easy for me! Edward is my nephew and a boy I swore to protect!" That didn't seem to phase her brother and he sat opposite her, picking up a card and tilting his head "Would you truly say an oath to your kin is nothing?"

"Of course not. But this is bigger than family, this is the King of our country where we can have a man or a child and I know for the safety of my wife and our children who I would rather have. Besides" he tossed the card away and reached for the Queen, smiling at her crown and sceptre in her elegant hands "Would you not like to be Queen, sister?"

Arching an eyebrow, he held out the card and watched as she took it, gazing at the royal figure painted on cream parchment "See, it is that easy for you to take the card. It is just as easy for you to take the crown" His voice had dropped to a whisper, as quiet as her thoughts so the words could've just been a fragment of her mind "Think of how proud our Father would be, how it would be our final piece of revenge on the Neville's"

Hearing those words assured her he wasn't merely a figment of her imagination and the voice was real, the voice coaxing, the voice persuading.
"Don't bring our Father into this" She murmured "Please Hal don't do that to me...."

"But why not?" He asked shuffling towards her and taking her hands "It is true! He would be proud! So would our Mother! All of her pain might prove at least a little worthwhile! Think, Cate, our Father's blood, Percy blood on the throne even after all they did to us, after all they did to try and destroy us...."

"No!" She cried, pulling away to escape the net of blood payment her brother was weaving around her. It was cruel, it was unjust....it was true "No!" She repeated firmly as she scrambled to her feet, the card of the Queen now crumpled in her fist "I do not share the same appetite for revenge as you do, Hal! I don't harbour the same anger!"

"You do!" He accused, the softness to his voice vanished, replaced with irritation. He got to his feet, towering over her like he'd always done and she stared up like she'd always done, never once wavering "I know you do, sister. Wasn't it you that killed Warwick? Rode onto the battlefield with no care of safety for yourself just to slice that snake's throat open before watching him bleed out?" He tilted his head "That doesn't seem like the act of someone who doesn't harbour anger, Catherine, quite the opposite"

She couldn't deny his words rang true, revenge had been her sole object when she rode onto the field that fateful day and not once had she felt sorry for it. No, she still remembered the emotions running through her veins like molten fire when the light of life left Warwick's eyes, she still remembered the power; the calm it brought her heart.

Catherine dropped her gaze to her feet and her brother sighted, his hands finding her shoulders once again, his gentle tone returning "I can see through you, sister, I've always been able to, haven't I?" She offered no more than a reluctant nod "You know our Father would be proud of you, more than proud and for our Mother to be Mother to the Queen of England? To have one of her jewels on the throne would mend her heart"

"You said that this action, this....this change would be for the benefit of the realm and yet I have heard you speak of naught but what it would bring to our family. What power it would bring us or you"

"Of course" Hal said, shrugging "Our family is one of my greatest concerns that coincides with my concern for England. You would stabilise the country at Richard's side. He would bring peace and do you not want peace sister? Besides" His hands dropped from her shoulders and he strode away to the heart, looking into the charred remains of the previous night's fire "If you do not take the throne you will be denying your kin something great"

"Oh and what might that be?"
He sighed.
"Your son's birthright"
"Hal...."

"Am I not right?" Hal demanded, turning again to see her face had crumpled "Your son is the rightful Prince of Wales, the rightful future King! That is another thing, York's little Princeling in the Tower isn't even betrothed yet, let alone married with heirs! You have three sons, three and may yet have more. Henry is a man now, Catherine, you can see how strong he is, how capable. Would you really deny the country a King as great as he could be? Would you really deny him that chance?"

Tears wet her cheeks and she sank down onto the end of her bed, the soft sheets providing no comfort.
"Stop it...." She pleaded, burying her face in her shaking hands "Stop it, brother....don't wound me further....." Images of her eldest son, her firstborn child flashed through her head, his golden curls, his merry face, the thirst to prove himself to his family. He was clever, he was just, he was a fine knight and if he was in battle he would prove an even finer warrior.

He would make a fine King, a truly great one but the thought only made her sob harder for in giving him the future of a crown, she would be denying the nephew she'd sworn to raise.

Two hands pried away hers from her face and she found her brother kneeling before her, peering into her eyes. His thumbs wiped her tears and he pressed a gentle kiss to her forehead.
"Don't cry, sweet Cate" He told her "Don't cry, little sister, you have done naught wrong"

"But I might do" She whispered, hardly daring to allow the words to leave her lips when she fell against his shoulder "I might do Hal....Richard might"
"Then Richard will be right"

He laughed and she drew away, looking down at his smile, listening to his voice.
"Oh god" She choked, memories of another life flashing through her mind, scenes, moments she thought she'd lost for life "You are so like our Father when you laugh"

Hal's smile widened but tears pricked his eyes all the same and the two leant their foreheads against together "They took so much from us didn't they? More than our strength....they took our time and our memories"

"Our Father" He added quietly and she nodded, clinging to him when his arms wrapped around her "I am no Yorkist" He whispered "But I will support you, sister. You are a Percy. I am a Percy and we are the Gods amongst men. Our Grandfather knew it, our Father knew it, we know it and it is time the country sees it. They will see it, when the country is stable, when it is at peace and the people prosper. England will flourish under you and Richard. It cannot under a boy"

Pulling away, he gently cupped her face, tilting his head and their eyes met "Edward chose his path when he decided to follow his cock and now these are the consequences but I wouldn't say they were bad. Stability. Peace. Prosperity. Contentment. They are never bad, sister. Nor are you"

꧁꧂

Richard finally returned at sundown and when he entered their chambers, Catherine was sitting in the window, alone, staring wistfully through the glass.
"I've been worried for you Dickon" She said, hearing his footsteps "Are you well now?"

He moved further into the room, perching on the edge of the bed like she'd done earlier, unsure of himself, like the child he'd been, retreating into his shell.
"I went to see my Mother at Baynards along the river" He said and Catherine finally looked at him, seeing how his shoulders slumped, his eyes fixed on his boots that kicked aimlessly at the floor.

"You went to see your Mother?"
He nodded.

"She was the only one I could think of for guidance" He admitted "You were distressed but Mother hardly ever is and she gave me council" Guilt laced his voice and from that quiet tone she could tell exactly what that council had been.

"She told you to take the throne, didn't she?" Again, he nodded but refused to meet her eyes "My brother told me the same. He said England would flourish under us, that it couldn't under a boy" Slowly, carefully, Richard stood and made his way over to the window. Tucking his legs close to his chest, he slid in opposite her and leant his head back against the cool stone wall.

"And what do you think?"

She sighed. She knew he would ask her that question sooner or later but she hadn't been able to settle on what her answer would be. It was too much. They had sworn to Edward on his deathbed that they would care for his son and make him King. How could they break that promise because of a piece of paper signed over twenty years before?

"I don't know what to think" She mumbled "We all knew how difficult it would be to have a boy King on the throne and now that that is not our only option, the nobility are pushing for you to take the throne. Well, those who know. You could stabilise the country, Richard, I know that but we made a promise. An oath"

"Oaths can be broken when the entire country is concerned" Richard replied but it was not with confidence "And we can still keep our nephews safe, Catherine, we will protect them, I swear it"
"I don't need you to swear it, I know you speak the truth"

"Then....." he hesitated, drawing her hand into his and she squeezed when she felt it shaking "Then I think that we should ascend the throne. Our nieces and nephews will be declared illegitimate...." He stopped again "It is difficult, more than difficult but for the best. We could have had Edward safely crowned and the country at peace by now if Elizabeth had cooperated but she hasn't so she has forfeited her son's crown."

He nodded to himself, trying to assure his mind and his wife of his words but she could only watch him, could only listen "We must take this leap of faith together, you and I"

"But we could fall, we could fall so far Richard!" She whispered fretfully and it was true, they could not only be damned in this life but the next and the thought that her nieces and nephews would despise her (as they surely would) was almost too much to bear. Elizabeth would hate her, her friend, her sister "Oh God"

"Or we could fly!" Richard replied, taking her other hand and pressing kisses to both.
"Yes we could fly! Too close to the sun and then se would burn!" He shook his head, over and over to try and dispel the notion from her head.

"We are Yorks, Catherine" He said firmly, releasing her and getting to his feet "We are the sun. We cannot burn and any who try make it so will see themselves engulfed in the flames of our wrath before dying in darkness" As he spoke, he paced back and forth by the window, looking at her every so often with hope in his eyes. The hope she would support him.

"You sound so sure yet you of all people know how sickly the wheel of fortune turns" She said, thinking of all the people he'd lost, all the people she'd lost. Would this act make them lose more? Put their children in danger? She couldn't bear that.

Richard gave a wry smile and knelt by her side, seizing her hands again and pressing one to his cheek.
"Your motto is Semper audax, semper liber - ever bold, ever free, well now, sweet Cate, we need your boldness" He was right, she knew, Richard would only take this step successfully if he had her by his side and she knew in her heart she wouldn't stand against him. She just couldn't say it out loud, not with this. Not yet.

"And in giving it we will take away the freedom of others" She said instead, making him sigh.
"I will be King" He told her "and you, you will be my Queen, the most adored Queen England will ever see" A small smile tugged at the corners of her lips and she pulled one hand from his grasp, running it through his hair; pushing stray strands away from his worried face.

"I love you" He smiled slightly "And I will always love you, you know that don't you?"
"I've known that every day for the past seventeen years, sweetheart, and I will know it every day of my life as you know my heart is eternally yours. My love is eternally yours, it always has been"

"Come here" She murmured and he lay his head on her lap, closing his eyes as she continued to play with his hair.

꧁꧂

25th of June 1483....

"Oh come on Dickon!" Henry yelled in exasperation as his little brother once again failed to deflect one of his blows "Use your shield you halfwit! You don't just carry it to display your pretty coat of arms!" Dickon grumbled and tried to aim his wooden sword higher, bringing his shield to his front.

They were in the great hall, abandoned by nobles, the tables pushed to one side and so a perfect for training Henry had declared it! He had been placed in charge of his brother's sword craft by their Father and was determined not to disappoint him so pushed on his little brother all the knowledge he had! Along with a little teasing, of course, he simply couldn't refrain!

"I'm learning and you're bigger than me!" Dickon complained but Henry only twirled his own wooden sword around in his hand, the meagre weight nothing compared to what he usually carried.

"That won't be a reasonable excuse on a battlefield or in a tourney will it?" He asked, sarcasm thick in his voice "When you are asked why you've got your eye speared with a lance 'he was bigger than me' certainly won't work!" His little brother's eyes widened with horror and he put a hand up to his eye, accidentally poking it with the hilt.

"Ow!" He yelped and Henry snorted, readying himself to attack again "Wait! I'm not ready!"
"You have to always be ready little brother!"

About to run forward, he was stopped with the shout of Georgie's voice and the sound of thudding boots.
"Henry?" The young man spun around, drawing in a sharp breath when he saw Georgie leading a large group of noblemen, armed soldiers at their sides. In an instant he had moved in front of his little brother, hand firmly around his sword and calculating the chances of the fight.

"Nobles" Dickon murmured from behind him and Henry braced himself the closer they came.
"Yes I can see that thank you!" He hissed.

"Henry?" Georgie called again "Where are your parents? I need them here now, more specifically your Father" Henry's eyes narrow slightly.
"Why?"

"Because there is a matter of state to attend to, an urgent one and he must be fetched, they both must be fetched, now!" There was a severity to his voice Henry had not heard before and after a moment, he turned to the boy behind him, nodding for him to carry out the order. In seconds, Dickon was away.

His brother lay down his sword and shield and took to holding the bejewelled dagger on his belt, watching every noble with suspicious eyes. Every important noble seemed to be there, the entire royal council in fact and he couldn't figure out why! They were all silent and his gaze flicked over each and every one of them, Georgie, his Uncle Hal, nobles he'd learnt the names of in his history lessons and from his Father.

Footsteps behind alerted him and he turned quickly to see his Mother and Father rushing down the steps, hand in hand, concern on their faces. While his Father was fully dressed, it was still early morning and his Mother's hair was loose, left in ringlets down her back, covering the grey shawl over her sky blue gown. Even then she looked perfect and he straightened up the closer his parents got, offering a small bow of respect.

"My Lords" Richard greeted solely as he came to stand by his son, one arm firmly linked with Catherine's "What do you do here? Is there trouble?"

They looked at each another before suddenly dropping to one knee in unison, the soldiers too, their heads bowed. Henry's eyes widened and he could hear his Mother's quiet gasp, see the worried look she gave his Father. Her unease made discomfort coil in the pit of his stomach.

"Your grace" Georgie proclaimed and reached into his doublet, drawing out a scroll of parchment "We come hither this day, as humble subjects of the realm to offer you the crown of England to take as our rightful sovereign" He offered up the parchment, sealed with the council's seal, the red wax freshly melted and set "We are decided that you are our rightful Lord and Master and humbly petition you to accept the throne for the good of the realm"

Henry's breath was blown from his body and the hand dropped from his dagger as his mind swirled. Had he not been so rooted to the spot, he swore he could've fainted and stared at the men; his Father. Shock was all he felt.

Drawing himself up, squaring his shoulders, Richard stepped forward and held his head high, taking up the piece of parchment with a firm hand.

"My Lords" His voice rang out across the hall and they raised their heads, waiting on his words "I am honoured by your choosing of me as your sovereign Lord and accept the crown you offer up to me with a will only to do good for this realm"

Georgie's lips split into a slight grin and he rose to his feet, prompting the others to do so, all eyeing their new sovereign, their new King.

"God save King Richard!" Georgie declared and the call was instantly taken up, called, chanted like a prayer in time with the soldiers that beat their pikes against the ground, the boom echoing like thunder "God save King Richard!" All cried, and as Henry looked at his parents again, he saw his Mother call it, heard her angelic voice through the shouts of men.

Gathering air in his lungs, he had no room for pride through the shock he felt, but still, his yell rose above all the rest. Powerful, strong.

"God save King Richard!"