~The Lion's Den~

Westminster Palace, one week later....

Holding tight to the wooden bedpost, Catherine stared at the polished wood as her Mother tugged firmly on the laces of her gown. It had been brought to her that morning, a fine garment of red and crimson velvet commissioned by the Earl of Northumberland for his dear sister, with golden roses delicately sewn along the hem.

"I shall not see you disgraced before the court" He'd told her when handing her the gown, watching with satisfaction as she brushed a hand over the soft material in wonder. At his words, she'd looked up in surprise.

"The court, brother?"
He'd only nodded, providing no other explanation before he departed, leaving a confused Catherine in the company of their Mother.

The reunion of Mother and daughter had been a joyous one despite the sad circumstances, and the young Duchess had clung to Eleanor De Poynings with all her strength. It had given her great joy to finally present Henry to his Grandmother and both women had laughed as they watched the little boy toddle around the bedchamber but now, they stood in silence, a stony silence made taught with the nerves that thrummed within Catherine's chest.

Her days had become a monotonous routine filled to the brim with a melancholy so great, at times she feared she would go mad. It was a pattern of rising at dawn; whiling away the dreary day trying to entertain her son. His little spirit was not accustomed to restraint and thrice she'd caught his little fingers reaching for the window latch!

"Out, Mama!" He would demand when she lifted him down, taking away his opportunity of escape "Out to play!"

Not once had she stepped foot from the chamber the traitor had placed her in but that did not mean she was oblivious to the changes of the court. Many an hour she had passed by the large arched window set into the far wall of her bedchamber, watching in silence or with tears streaking her cheeks as she watched the banners of Lancaster raised high in place of the York ones.

It was not so much that she hated the sight of them as she had done their blue and murrey counterparts as a child. No, the black and crimson almost brought comfort to her, a sense of home, of family almost. For all the world she could not deny that she felt no enmity towards the Lancastrian Lords that flocked to the new court, they were simply of a reminder of her Richard's absence and that was why she cried.

Day and night, hour after hour she prayed for his safety, for the safety of the Queen and her daughters in the crypt of Westminster Abbey. There were hard times ahead, that much was clear.

"You are to go before the King and his court" Her Mother told her, a note of worry to her usually soothing voice as she tied the silk cords of her daughter's dress "You are to be meek, Cate, it is a wonder you are being given this chance at all. This is what your Lancastrian blood affords you; the memory of your Father too. Do not squander it, I beg"

"Squander it?"

Catherine jumped as her Mother spun her around harshly by the shoulders, pressing her back firmly against the bed. Her gown still only partially laced, she felt the fine velvet slip down one arm but had no chance to raise it again as slender fingers roughly caught her chin.

"Do not play the fool with me, my jewel" Eleanor said lowly, glancing towards the door that, while closed, could be heard through by eager ears "I see the love you bear the Father of your child, your Richard! I see it even now in your eyes..."
"Don't" The younger woman whispered, feeling tears cloud her vision but her Mother refused to let her turn her head away.

"I do" She replied firmly "For your own safety as well as the safety of your son! You have an opportunity, Catherine, do not cast it aside for the sake of a love that will never return...." At that Catherine's eyes widened and she finally pushed her Mother away, rushing to the hearth where Henry played and lifting him into her arms.

"No!" She cried defiantly, shaking her head while Henry clasped to her loose locks of golden hair "No he will he will return to me!"
"Do not say that, Cate! It is treason to speak so" Eleanor hissed, striding up to her daughter and plucking the little boy from her arms to place him on the bed before drawing Catherine back to her side "Come" She ordered, turning her around once more.

With deft fingers, she swept her long hair aside and attended to the final laces, tying them tightly in silence. Catherine's shoulders began to shake, trembling beneath the crimson velvet as she tried to suppress her pitiful sobs that had more than once echoed around the chamber. She simply could not bear the thought her Mother had spoken aloud: that Richard would not return to her.

It broke her heart for it to even flicker across her mind.

He'd said that he would, he'd promised that he would and she had faith in him, her one true husband. One glance at her beloved son reminded her of that.

"So I am to cast my love aside?" She whispered through her tears as her hair was gathered into a golden coif and secured by several pins that dug painfully into her scalp "I am to deny my husband and the Father of my child?"

"You are to declare your loyalty to our King" Eleanor returned sternly, sighing as another small sob passed her daughter's lips.

It hurt her heart to see her beloved child in such pain, tormented so by the world around her. She did not deserve it, not one shred of pain and Eleanor knew that had she the chance and the means, she would take all of her sorrow unto her own soul "Oh, my dearest one" She whispered, hesitating only a moment before she reached behind the veil of her hennin to release the string of diamonds and rubies she wore from her neck and placed it around her daughter's.

Catherine sniffed slightly, her fingers dancing across the necklace as a golden girdle was fastened tightly about her waist "There. Now I shall be with you"

"You always have been" She replied, turning to her Mother with tear-filled eyes before leaning into her arms, unable to refrain from weeping. Eleanor cooed softly into her ear, holding her close as the two slipped to the floor in a heap of velvet and silk.

"You must do what is needed" She whispered, cradling Catherine's head against her bodice "Do what you must. It is not treason! You are a Lancastrian, my love, you even named your boy for our King which speaks plainly enough about where your true loyalties lie! Do not deny the mercy gifted to you for the sake of your heart"

"But my heart is what I am loyal to!" Catherine cried pitifully, causing her Mother to shake her head and gently raise her chin once more.

"Then you must betray it" She whispered softly "It will hurt to do so but think....for heavens sake think Catherine! What chance does your husband stand? You are alone, with your York son in a Lancastrian court ruled over by the likes of Somerset and Warwick and where is he? There are rumours that the ship the Yorks boarded did not even make it to shore...."

"No!" Catherine wept, shaking her head, refusing to believe the rumours that had flitted through Westminster's halls for the past week.
"Go before King Henry! Beg for forgiveness! Ally yourself with your family once more, with the crown, and you will be safe for all eternity! So will your son! Surely you can see that is best?"

Tugging Catherine close again, Eleanor smoothed a hand over the back of her gown. Her daughter was no fool, surely she knew of the danger around her "You are in the lion's den, my jewel" She whispered "Do not let yourself be eaten when you have a chance to join the pride"

꧁꧂

"Her grace, Catherine, Duchess of Gloucester"

The doors swinging open before her with an ageing creek, Catherine took a breath and forced her head high as she strode forward into the great hall. Though little was different, the vast chamber seemed an entirely different world to her eyes, as if the Christmas court of 1458 had reappeared in full force. She half expected for her Father to appear from the crowd!

Black and crimson banners lined the walls, emblazoned with a chained swan bearing a golden crown, stitched with golden thread that glinted in the morning light. Hoards of courtiers swarmed either side of the hall, the pathway to the velvet covered dais clear of nobles to allow the young woman approaching to glide by unhindered.

She could feel their eyes upon her, hear their curious whispers hidden behind raised hands. Her tale was notorious amongst the nobility, she knew, her tormented childhood and rise to York power still enough to cause the room to buzz with hushed remarks at her presence.

But still, she could see no malice in their persistent gazes, none of the usual hatred that accompanied the appearance of a traitor. It suddenly occurred to her that what her brother had said was true. They did not view her as a traitor but as one of their own, wrongfully taken by the enemy and the glimmers of pity she could see in the pairs of eyes staring at her confirmed that thought.

God forgive her for what she was about to do.

She was a girl of the House of Lancaster, the blood in her veins matching the hue of the red rose to which her kin were so devoted. The noble house had kept her loyalty for many a year and even then she could not deny she sympathised with their cause but she could also not deny that the stems of her life were intertwined with the white rose far more than with the red.

Her fate now rested upon petals as pure as snow and her son, her beloved boy, bound her to the duty of keeping the Sunne in splendour shining down upon the sweet garden of England. For he was a York and she would never stand against him, nor his Father.

Her Richard.

Swallowing back her tears, Catherine forced her head to remain high and looked to the dais ahead, crowded with imposing men who each wore the collar of Lancaster about their necks, the polished golden S's gleaming against their doublets. These men were warriors, soldiers and their frames were strong, their unwavering gazes cool yet not unkind as they settled on the young woman approaching.

They stood encircling the large throne of England, Edward's throne she had come to know, only now it was not Edward who sat upon its royal seat.

It was Henry.
King Henry.

The Lancastrian lords surrounded him like a dozen fussing Mothers, a protectiveness for their monarch that reminded the court of their strength but, dangerously, their King's weakness.

Seated in a blue robe that seemed to drown him, the sleeves hanging over his bony hands with the crown of England placed on his head, King Henry looked little more than a startled deer! He'd aged since she last saw him, and she could tell he had thinned considerably, feeling sadness twinge in her heart at the way his pale skin stretched over his face, highlighting the delicate bones in his cheeks.

His hair had thinned too, the once thick brown waves reduced to wiry strands streaked with grey. The King was a sorrowful sight, in a way. A figure for pity, not for politics.

Did the Lords think of her Father, Catherine wondered, were they searching for a resemblance as evidence of her Lancastrian roots? Her gown of crimson and black would certainly serve to sway their lenience, she knew and was grateful for once again for her brother's gift. Hal stood amongst the Lancastrian leaders and he let an encouraging smile flit across his lips when his eyes met his little sister's.

Catherine repaid the gesture with a small nod, retuning her eyes to the King as she came to the foot of the royal dais. She realised with a pleased pang that Warwick was nowhere near Henry's side and only caught one glimpse of him lingering near the edge of the dais, clearly having been pushed to the side by the others.

As for George, why, he wasn't even there!

It was hard for her not to smirk at the sight but she knew then was not the time for jokes, she could laugh all she wanted at her enemies's failure when she returned to her room. If she was allowed to return.

Casting her gaze to the ground, she gathered her skirts in her fists and sank into the most graceful curtsy she could muster, meekly bowing her head.

With her knees touching the cool stone of the floor and her skirts pooled around her, she stayed submissively upon the ground, awaiting an order to rise. Though she was to refused him her fealty within the next few minutes, King Henry was still a man that commanded her respect and she was determined to give it, no matter what was to transpire.

"Rise up" His voice was gentle, not commanding and as Catherine straightened her back, smoothing out her heavy skirts, she could almost believe his order an offer, a question. Taking a deep breath, she clasped her hands in front of her, feeling them begin to tremble slightly under the gaze of so many formidable men, each of whom held the power to raise her high or cast her low as they pleased.

Leaning forward on his throne, the King eyed her with a certain degree of curiosity, a fondness that made her heart warm and a small smile appear on his lips.
"Lady Catherine" He greeted softly and she returned his smile, sweeping another curtsy.
"Your grace"

Murmurs of approval swept the room, many satisfied with the knowledge she accepted Henry as her Lord and King. He seemed pleased too and his smile widened slightly, almost proudly.

"It has come to my attention that your fate has been cast into uncertainty with the return of my throne" He said, looking to the Duke of Somerset beside him for confirmation and glancing back to her when he nodded "Well, you have been brought before my council and my court upon this day because I, as your King, wish to remedy that. I have a proposition for you, my Lady, put to me by my trusted Lords, one of which is your esteemed brother, the Earl of Northumberland"

Turning to look at Hal, he nodded gratefully in response to the young Earl's deferent bow before returning to his little sister.

"Your marriage to Richard of York shall be annulled by parliament, freeing you from the bonds of your marriage. You will be welcome here at court with your family and be given the Earldom of Sussex to support yourself and your infant son. He, of course, shall be declared a bastard in the eyes of the law but I will ensure that he stays by your side until the time comes where I can arrange a position for him in the household of the Prince of Wales, my son and heir to my throne"

He raised his pointed chin a little, watching Catherine with slight curiosity again "Do you accept this offer, my lady? And swear fealty to me as your rightful Lord and King anointed by God. It gives me hope that you made no such pledges to the pretender. What say you?"

A swirl of wondering whispers swept through the hall and Catherine took a breath, feeling the eyes of the court burning into her back while the Lords burnt into her soul. Stepping forward slightly, she slowly sank to her knees, appearing a supplicant before the King although she was about to prove she was anything but.

Peering up at King Henry from beneath her lashes, she clasped her hands, swallowing her nerves as best she could.

"You are kind, your grace" She began "a kinder man then most but I cannot accept your offer" Just as she had expected, surprised gasps filled the room, quickly turning to a few shouts of anger that were silenced by the King raising one hand.

The Lords beside him stared at her with wide eyes, her brother looking as if he wanted to pick her up and shake her there and then! Catherine had no doubt that once she escaped the great hall he would do just that.

Gathering her skirts, she rose to her feet and kept her eyes locked with the King's, almost willing him to see a window into her heart through her gaze. To see that she wished him no ill, she only wished to remain with the man she loved.

"While Richard Plantagenet is your enemy, he is my husband and I could not have asked for a kinder, gentler nor more loving one. I love him, your grace" She confessed "and he has loved me ever since we were thirteen years old. Our love is not of the red or the white rose, it is a pure love, one that rises above all war and divisions. I do not wish to lose that, your grace. Richard may never come back, he may never step on these shores again and I may be forever parted from him in body but I will never be separated from him in spirit nor by law"

As she came to a finish, she fisted her hands within the skirt of her gown, rubbing the velvet anxiously between her fingers while Henry watched her. His face betrayed no emotion other than a slight interest in her words that made him tilt his head, once more silencing the murmurs of confusion and outrage muttered by his courtiers.

"I see" He murmured thoughtfully "And your allegiance lies....?"

Catherine's breath hitched in her throat and she gripped her gown a little tighter, summoning the next words to her tongue with a slight hesitance that made the King frown slightly.

"My body may be for Lancaster and my mind may be too" She declared, keeping her head held high as she took her next breath "but my heart is for my husband and therefore I am for York" 

This time, the cries that erupted throughout the hall were ones of true outrage, of betrayal that echoed up to the rafters and made Catherine all but tremble where she stood. The Lords upon the dais looked down at her with narrowed eyes, and Hal appeared so fierce his sister half feared he would spit fire.

Clenching his fists by his side, he bent his head to the King's ear, muttering words that were met with a small nod before striding down the dais and taking her arm.
"Curtsy, you fool" He hissed and she cast her eyes to the ground, doing as he bid before she found herself roughly tugged to the side; swept through a door next to the dais. 

Hal refused to speak one word to her as he pulled her through the halls, his firm grip only relaxing when she complained he was hurting her. Even then, he remained silent, his face flushed with rage and each step he took thunderous, as if trying to stir a storm beneath his feet.

When they finally reached her chambers, Catherine was glad to see her son was safely in the small adjoining room, hidden from his Uncle's rage as he hauled her inside and slammed the door shut.
"You would stay with the man who kidnapped you?" He demanded immediately, glaring at his little sister while she defiantly folded her arms, tilting her chin upwards.

"Dickon did not kidnap me" She retorted sharply "the Nevilles did. He is not to blame, he was six, the same as me" Hal scoffed incredulously, throwing his hand up in the air with a yell of exasperation. His sister was a Percy, a noblewoman with a fine education and she certainly was not short of a brain! She was no simple fool, he knew that, and yet her actions of moments ago told him different.

What had her husband done to enchant her thus? It was said the York Queen possessed magic, had the young Duke employed the same methods to capture his little sister's heart? The thought enraged him.

"So you are the whore of a York?" He sneered, gasping with pain when Catherine struck him across the face, her rings scraping his skin. He had not expected the blow and rubbed his stinging cheek with a groan, meeting her eyes in which burned a fire so bright with anger, he feared it was more powerful than his own.

"I am not his whore, I am his wife" She hissed "I am a Royal Duchess and a Princess of the realm"

"Of course" He nodded "I'm sorry, sister...." A moment passed and then their eyes met again, his filled with the panic of a sudden thought "he did not take you by force did he? You have not been raped?" Catherine's eyes widened and she let out an appalled cry, shaking her head.

"No, Hal!" She exclaimed "I gave myself to him"
"You gave yourself willingly?"

Had she not been so angry, she would've laughed at his look of disbelief, his blatant unwillingness to believe that her husband could be anything less than evil.
"Yes!" She cried "And I bore his child. My son. Your nephew! As far as the values of our family go, I have fulfilled my duty as a woman. I have married high and given my husband an heir"

"A York" He muttered bitterly.
"A boy made by me, named for you and our King" Her face softened slightly at a thought and she glanced towards the door that led to the adjoining chamber. The chamber where Henry was waiting "Would you like to meet him?"

Hal's eyes widened and his gaze followed her own, settling on the dark wood with a new curiosity. He'd never laid eyes on his little nephew, though his Mother talked of little else, of what a bright boy he was, a strong boy. While he was the spawn of a York, he was also of his sister's blood, his blood and he suddenly felt a need to meet the little boy.

"Yes" He murmured, finding a smile twitch at his lips when his sister's face brightened "Yes, I think I would"
"Henry?" She called, opening the door "Henry my sweet boy? I have someone for you to meet"

A few moments of silence passed and then a happy gurgle floated through the door, followed by a little blonde haired boy who toddled straight to his Mother. Beaming, he wrapped his arms around the skirt of her gown, nuzzling into the soft velvet happily until his eyes fell on the man in front of her. With his smile collapsing to a little frown, he slunk away slightly, eyeing his Uncle with a suspicion so great it was almost comical.

"Bad man, mama?" He asked, peering upwards and Catherine smiled, reaching down to run a hand through his downy hair.

"No, my love" She whispered, guiding him forward by his little shoulders so Hal could see him clearly "Your Uncle, one of the men you were named for" She paused a moment "Mama loves him"

At that, Henry's small frown fell away and he was suddenly all smiles, stretching out his little arms with a squeal. If his Mother loved someone then he did too and it made no difference with this stranger whom he now toddled determinedly towards.

"Henry love too!" He cried, clutching onto Hal's boots while he tried to climb them, anxious for a first embrace from this man his Mother liked.

"Hold him!" Catherine encouraged, feeling her heart swell as her brother bent down and took her son ably into his arms, grinning when the little boy planted a wet kiss to his cheek. He gazed at him with affection, an affection that seemed to surprise him and made Catherine grin "How can you not have expected to love your own nephew?" She asked and Hal looked up, taking one of Henry's little hands in his own.

"I don't know, Cate!" He breathed in wonder.

꧁꧂

He came to her late at night when the council had finally adjourned, bearing a letter sealed by the King in his ringed hands. As bright afternoon bled to dark dusk, the Lords of Lancaster had gathered with God's anointed, debating what should be done with the woman they held.

A woman who was one of their own yet that very day had proclaimed for another.

Some advocated leniency, others punishment, their gruff voices raising to the rafters until King Henry had called for silence. He had been the one to pen the final decree, a compromise of sorts for his Lords and for Catherine too; signed by his own hand.

Hal was satisfied with the sentence and as he entered Catherine's chambers he hugged her tightly, telling her to sit.

Perching on a nearby coffer, she watched him almost warily, a goblet in her hands, long drained of wine, that she drummed her fingers against while he unfolded the parchment in his hands. Beneath her gown, her heart beat relentlessly, each pounding thump a reminder that the next moments would tell her what her future would be. What her son's future would be.

Glancing over to the bed behind her brother, she was glad to see Henry sound asleep, his golden head only just peeking out from beneath the heavy covers.
"Please, speak" She whispered, unable to wait any longer "Tell me what my future holds!"

Hal nodded, coming to stand before her, decree in hand. He would not prolong the proceedings any more than necessary, nor would he sugar coat them, not that he thought the King ungenerous. Quite the opposite!

"You have been attainted with your husband. By henceforth decree of Parliament all lands and titles owned by your husband are forfeit to the possession of the crown. You are stripped of the title Duchess of Gloucester and from this day forth will be known as the Lady Catherine Plantagenet"

Catherine listened in silence, her fingers still drumming a steady rhythm upon the side of her silver goblet, the one thing she found kept her tethered to reality in that moment. A shaking breath left her lips. To be attainted was a dark thing indeed, a mark of shame upon a noble line that was never to be removed and each Lord and Lady feared its black stain upon their name. At least she had expected it.

"And what of my son?" She ventured "Will he be taken from me?"

Hal shook his head and her sigh of relief filled the room, words of thanks whispered only to God quickly following. That was all she truly needed, all she truly wanted. As long as she had her boy, she could survive.
"The king has permitted him to stay in your care" Hal said "Although he has ordered you and he be lodged in the Tower until the return of the Queen and Prince of Wales"

Catherine's head jerked up at that and she raised her eyebrows.

So she was to go to the Tower? The very place she had been taken from she was to be returned! Instead of dread, another surprising wave of relief filled her heart and she felt it's relentless pounding slow somewhat at the news. The Tower of London was a place dreaded by many, a place of pain and the looming sentence of a sharpened axe above a traitor's neck but the thought of the high walls and sturdy doors, almost brought peace to her mind.

A tentative peace that she grasped at out of desperation.

It was not named the most secure fortress in the kingdom for naught and Catherine was sure her boy would be safer within the Tower walls than he would be at court. As long as she was not put under the care of someone like Warwick. The thought made her shiver but she pushed it away with a deft shake of her head.
"And then?" She asked, prompting Hal to continue.

"And then you and little Henry will be placed under my charge at Alnwick until the crown agrees upon an annuity to grant you" He answered and she nodded slowly, letting her head fall and trailing her eyes across the floor only to find her chin raised a moment later; her brother knelt at her feet.

"The council have been most generous, Cate" He told her softly "They still view you as one of us despite your throne room declarations and don't think you should be greatly punished for the sins of your husband. You are still your Father's daughter. His grace suggested you may serve Queen Marguerite as a lady in waiting? He remembers she and the Prince were fond of you, as well as that you saved him from being attacked by your husband, which is another reason why you are being shown such leniency, let us hope that favour continues"

All she could do was nod, a silent acceptance of her fate that made Hal smile to himself.
"Why did you not fight for Edward?" She suddenly asked and his smile fell, replaced by a look of grim resentment that could be conjured by any York name. "He gave you the Earldom of our Father...."

"He gave me nothing that was not already rightfully mine" He spat, one hand coming to toy with the dagger at his belt "like a thief retuning a stolen jewel. I am relived to have it once more but I feel not one drop of gratitude for it should never have been taken in the first place"

Again, all she could do was nod.