~A Wedding of Two Roses~

Westminster Palace, two weeks later, June 1464....

Catherine was silent as she stepped into the extravagant halls of Westminster Palace, Dickon at her side as was the custom as her betrothed.

They had spoken very little during the two week journey taking them to London, not simply for lack of topic but they were hardly ever together! Dickon rode with his brothers, deemed old enough now that he was to have a wife, while Catherine was with his Mother and Princess Margaret. The two Yorks were merry enough company, talking to the little girl no differently than they would have spoken to any other of the Yorkist nobility and Catherine felt able to reply to them.

Cecily especially was a comfort to her, seemingly taking a form of joy from looking after a small child; taking it as a distraction. When they rode at night, their carriage trundling along the rode, Cecily would invite Catherine to share her furs with her, holding her close until the rays of dawn came.

She cradled her just as the young girl's Mother used to do, now also a widow, and it brought sleep easily to her, letting her imagine that she was at Alnwick, falling asleep in her Mother's arms.

Perhaps once she was a Duchess she would be allowed to see her again?

Allowed.

Catherine had hated that word for a long time. To be told what to do and what not to do was a normal line of life that all, high and low had to obey, but to her it meant restriction and torture. She was allowed the gentle freedoms of the nobility, to hunt, to ride, to dance to read, but she knew she would sacrifice all that for the freedoms taken from her five long years ago.

To go home.
To see her family.

She could at least ask? Surely Dickon would not say no to her. For all his seriousness she knew he was a kind boy at heart who knew the pain of losing a Father. He would not deny her a visit to the late Earl's grave but, she had to admit that Dickon was still a boy, a boy who idolised his oldest brother and would follow his lead.

A lead, she knew, would fly directly away from her family. The York King would expect her not to turn back.

But that expectation was too high and as she stepped into the halls of Westminster she felt as if she might faint. Looking around, the walls had been stripped of their fine Lancastrian tapestries, were now whitewashed and the marble pillars polished. When she looked up ahead, the Lancastrian standards had been torn from their places, replaced by the ones of York that were a bundle of unfamiliar colours to her.

Even the doors were different, the heavy oak replaced by others that did not bear the Lancastrian arms nor their sigils but bore the white roses of York; Edward's personal sun in splendour.

It was change, again, so much change.....
And her mind could not take it.
Reaching out, she leant against the nearest wall, feeling her legs tremble beneath her while her breath shuddered. Closing her eyes, it was not a moment before an arm was suddenly around her waist and a hand took hers, pulling her upright.

"It's alright" Dickon then murmured in her ear "I'm here Catherine. Ned!" The King turned at the sound of his voice, far ahead of the rest of the group with his long confident strides as he went to meet the court ladies. His eyes comically widened at the sight of the limp girl in his youngest brother's arms but a pretty little blonde was tugging at his sleeve, clearly one of his mistresses, and the call of lust was too much to deny.

"George!" He ordered "Take her to Dickon's rooms, and for heaven's sake don't drop her!" Grinning he let the blonde woman tug him away, placing an lazy arm around her shoulders.

Catherine almost squealed when George saw to the task, whisking her from his brother's arms into his own. He bent down and picked her up in one swing, chuckling at the shocked expression on her dazed face when he began to stride confidently down the halls!

"You're a light little thing, my Lady" He remarked, grinning down at her before he looked over his shoulder where Dickon was trying his best to keep up. "You won't have a problem carrying her to bed!"

"Oh shut up George!" He snapped but George only stuck his tongue out before turning back ahead "You're supposed to be fourteen!"
"I am! But I'm not the one getting married, that's you! You're getting married tomorrow morning, Dickon!"

Catherine groaned in his arms and George roared with laughter, almost dropping her in his mirth "I like her, little brother! Anyone that groans at the idea of marrying you is destined to be a friend of mine!" If he had not been carrying his future wife, Dickon would have kicked him at that moment, tempted to do that or shove him into the nearest wall!

But he was carrying his future wife and so the youngest York decided he would simply have to settle his scores later.
"Hurry up!" He snapped, making a point of striding past his brother as fast as his legs would carry him, pushing open the door to his chambers and ushering his brother inside "Put her on the bed"

"To bed already, little brother!" George quipped placing Catherine down upon the soft covers before crying out as Dickon hit him over the head.
"Get out! Go and find Ned and his whores why don't you!"

Sticking his tongue out again, he swept a mocking bow and turned around, chuckling to himself.
"Goodbye, little brother! Goodbye sweet Catherine"

Upon the bed, Catherine groaned again, trying to wave goodbye but Dickon placed her hand back to her side, shushing her. In silence, he rested her head against the pillow, moving away to see if there was anything for her to drink while she looked around. Slowly, her wandering eyes travelled over the windows, over the door and walls. It was a strange thing but she suddenly felt a pang of familiarity that made her gasp.

These had been her family's rooms, the Percy rooms. Now York rooms, belonging to her betrothed.

"Here" Dickon murmured when he padded back over to the bed, perching beside her while she tried to lift her head. He helped, using one hand to support her neck while he put the silver goblet he held to her lips, helping her take a sip "There we go" Once she had drunk half of what he offered, he placed the cup aside, helping her sit up on the pillows "Do you feel a little better?"

Catherine nodded mutely, still staring around the chamber with wide eyes and a blurred gaze that made her see figures walking back and forth across the marble. Two children standing before their glorious Father, watched over by their beautiful Mother who stood by the window in a swirl of yellow and red.

"You're crying" Dickon said, catching a tear she shed with a finger and gently wiping it away.
"You're not" She replied as the figures faded and she was suddenly seized with the same shame she had felt the night he had cradled her, comforted her. It was not right for an enemy to see her thus! In front of such people she was meant to remain as ice was, cold and unyielding but with him she had proven anything but!

She was sure he thought her weak and, with that repulsive thought in mind, she tried to move, swinging her legs over the side of the bed only to find Dickon's hands on her waist (albeit rather hesitantly) pushing her back again. She flinched, her eyes filling with fear and he instantly moved away a little.

"I won't hurt you, Catherine, surely you know that?"
"How can I?" She replied, staring into those blue eyes of his that were simply unreadable "You are a strange boy, Richard Plantagenet, I thought I would despise you and yet you are not a foe....but neither are you a friend. You are quiet and that makes you dangerous to me, like the rest of your family"

Again she tried to move from the bed and this time, she moved without a barrier, Dickon simply watching her with an almost wounded look. On unsteady feet she strode to the door, trying to keep her gaze focused and not once looking back.

Until he called out to her.
"My family only fought for what we thought was right, Lady Catherine, you would do well to remember that"
Catherine glanced over her shoulder, seeing Dickon stood tall now, his hand placed on the hilt of his dagger and a determined look in his eyes. One she had not yet seen.

"As did mine" She retorted "In that we are alike, my Lord, but otherwise, we have as much in common as a cat and a mouse. Some would say that combination is a danger"
"Aye" Dickon agreed, stepping forward "But who is the cat and who is the mouse here, my Lady?"

Turning on her heels, she left without another word.

꧁꧂

12th of June 1464....

The bells rung out across Westminster Palace the next morning as Catherine awoke, the silken sheets around her rumpled from cocooning herself within them. She frowned when a serving girl arrived and drew back the shutters from the windows, causing bright rays of May light to flood to her eyes, blinding her.

With a groan, she turned away, hoping to grasp at the strings of sleep once more before she was whisked down the isle to her fate but it was not to be. Not a minute later, the door to her chamber flew and a bright voice called through, silk rustling as the woman it belonged to walked forth.

"Good morrow, sister! I trust you are well this fine day?"

Catherine groaned again and forced herself to sit up, her mass of golden curls falling, tangled, over her face.
"Fine day?" She repeated, watching Margaret of York glide around her bedchamber like a living ghost "I do not think it is very fine for me!"

"Oh come now!" The Princess exclaimed, moving over to the bed where she sat, taking the young girl's hands in her own "things cannot be as bad as all that can they? Tis your wedding day!"

"The wedding day where I am to be married to a boy who my family considers my enemy and is part of a family I have been taught to despise?"

Margaret raised her eyebrows, tilting her head to the side a little and Catherine momentarily feared the steeple hennin she wore would tumble down from her head!

"I suppose that makes sense" She conceded "But Dickon is a kind boy, quiet I'll admit, but kind" A gentle smile lit her lips and she squeezed the little hands she held "Now, let us ready you! We are meant to be at the chapel in half an hour!"

"Half an hour?" Catherine exclaimed as she was dragged from the covers and Margaret collected the purple gown at the end of her bed, nodding.

"Aye, sweet girl! By the time noon has struck you shall be wed, a royal Duchess who outranks even ma mére!" Chuckling to herself, she selected a clean shift and placed it on the girl who had had the sense to quickly remove her nightgown "You shall have power over almost all!"

"I have no power and I don't think I ever shall" Catherine replied dully "Women like us do not have power, not truly" Margaret simply laughed at that, shaking her head as if the very idea was ridiculous.
"Tell that to my ma mére! If my Father had been able to truly claim his throne then she would have acted more a King than he! Or at least, she would be the best Queen these shores have ever seen! You should not doubt that!"

"I do not" Was the young girl's reply as she stepped into the circle of purple damask laid at her feet "I like your Mother, she has been kind to me"
"Are most people not kind to you, sweet girl?"

Catherine stilled at that, swallowing a little before she continued to slide her arms into the sleeves of her wedding gown.
"I thought everyone knew that I had been taken by the Nevilles when I was a child"

Now it was Margaret's turn to fall silent and she suddenly moved away, pressing a hand to her forehead while the other held her hip.

"Oh Jesu, I had forgotten for a moment who you were!" She looked up with eyes full of sorrow, almost pleading for forgiveness and sunk down onto the coffer at the end of the bed, gesturing for Catherine to join her there. With hesitance, she did "I am sorry, my dear" Margaret murmured, gently placing a hand to the girl's cheek, smoothing back the golden hair that covered it "Have you not forgotten what they did to you?"

"I will never forget" Catherine replied stoutly "The memory of the months I suffered away from the world are burned into my mind like a brand into my flesh" A shaking breath passed her lips and she cast her hands to her lap where her hands fidgeted "When I close my eyes, when I sleep, I can remember every second of my capture, every noise, every word....I will never forget. I want to but I can't. Sometimes when I hear certain things, see certain things, I think I am returned to where I was held, I think I am there again and...." Her soft voice trailed away as her words dissolved into tears that streamed down her cheeks, hot and stinging.

Margaret gathered her into her arms, holding her tightly to her while she rubbed soothing circles onto her back "I can't do this" Catherine sobbed "I can't be married again! I'm not strong enough"

"Oh, you are strong enough" The Princess murmured, pulling away so that she could dab at the sobbing girl's cheeks with her handkerchief "You are young, Catherine, but there is strength in you. I know it, Edward knows it, Edmund knew it....I have not thanked you for the way you cared for him but I say it now. Without you he would have died in agony but you did everything you could to save him and when he ascended to God his spirit flew in peace" She nodded to herself, slowly turning Catherine around to tie the laces of her gown "That is a debt none of this family shall ever be able to repay. But we will not forget it. If there is one thing us Yorks do it is remember"

With a trembling lip, Catherine stood with the York Princess once more, letting herself be lead to the dressing table where she sat and her hip length tresses were brushed until they shone as the sun did "My Mother bid me bring this to you" Margaret said softly, plucking a circlet of rubies and yellow sapphires bound together by a length of gold, from her belt "She wore it on her wedding day but she knows it shows your family colours and so would like you to have it"

Catherine gasped lightly as the circlet was placed upon her head, the jewels shining in the morning sun; casting rays of crimson and golden light onto the diamonds placed around her neck. They were cold against her skin but their beauty cold not be denied and nor could hers at that moment.

Looking at her reflection within the mirror, she saw a remnant of how she had wished herself to look upon the morning of her wedding five long years ago....it was not perfect, she admitted, but it was better. Perhaps that was a way to look upon this day now? It was not the wedding to Prince Edward that she wished but at least Dickon was not thrice her age as Georgie was and she was to bear the title of a royal Duchess which was only one step down from what her family had hoped?

Perhaps she could learn to live with it until Lancaster returned and King Henry took his rightful place once more?

Taking a deep breath, she slowly nodded to herself, wiping the last of her drying tears away and Margaret smiled, gently squeezing her shoulders.
"Come" She said, taking Catherine's hand and leading her to the chamber door "You have the court awaiting you. And my brother" the young girl nodded again, watching as the chamber door was opened and then she strode out, holding her head high, Margaret beside her.

The two made their way through Westminster in silence, the only sounds around them being the occasional song of a little bird that sang sweetly upon a window. The corridors were void of all life but theirs, the Lords and Ladies of the court being already gathered in the chapel, garbed in their finery.

And so, when Catherine let out a screech, Margaret was sure God would be able to hear it echoing through the halls like the cry of an angel.
"Georgie!"

Catherine beamed and lifted her skirts, laughing as she ran to the man she had once called husband. He stood beside the chapel door, dressed in all his finery, a doublet she had made him one Christmas and a chain of office around his neck. When she reached him, she jumped into his arms, feeling a wave of relief wash over her when his embrace surrounded her body, warm and safe.

"Words cannot tell how good it is to see you!" She breathed when he set her down on her feet grinned at her, admiring the lavender gown she wore.

"And you, dearest Cat!" He returned fondly, reaching out to gently tap her on the nose "Agnes would be proud to see you look so beautiful in that gown!" Catherine smiled and leant into his arms once more, never ever wanting to let go, especially with the fate awaiting her on the other side of the door.

"I want you to be my husband again" She told him against his doublet "You are the only person I feel safe with Georgie. You're the only one I trust"
"Well now you must give your trust to young Richard" He replied, gently stroking her hair to soothe her "You gave your trust to me, now you must give it to Dickon. I am to give you away, Cat, but it can be more than a simple passing of hands" She looked up "Think of it as a transition of your trust from me to Richard, your husband"

"But I shall always trust you!"
George grinned, gazing down at the worried little face peering up at him.
"And I you" He said "But you can trust Richard too, mon petit amour, and in time, you will! He is your truest protector now. I dare say he shall prove worthy of such an honour!"
"And if my husband should prove ungallant?" She asked, making his grin widen as he hugged her to him one last time.

"Then I shall cut his heart out and serve it to you on a dinner plate!"

"I don't think my brother George would mind that" Margaret quipped from behind as she gathered Catherine's train within her hands, pushing the veil of her headdress behind her shoulders. Within the hall, trumpets blared, muffled by the thick walls and doors but clear to those outside all the same. 'A royal announcement' Catherine thought as she linked her arm with Georgie's and the doors swung open, revealing the grand chapel she stepped into.

'Hold your head high' She could hear her Father tell her and she did just that, tilting up her chin and processing down the chapel isle step by careful step.

On either side stood hundreds of Lords and Ladies, each craning their necks to see the little royal duchess approach the alter where her husband and the King stood. Edward looked as dazzling as ever, his golden crown upon his head and bejewelled hands clasped in front of him. He grinned at the little girl walking towards him and nodded to her in greeting. As protocol demanded, she returned the gesture, doing the same again when she passed Duchess Cecily and the Duke of Clarence.

It was with a jolt of surprise that she realised no Nevilles apart from the King's Mother were present!

Dickon stood before the Archbishop of Canterbury, his head turned piously up towards the man in glistening clerical robes. In many ways, he looked no less splendid than the King, garbed in a doublet of cloth of gold with a new sword at his side; the hilt studded with rubies. When his older brother motioned for him to do so, he turned and took a breath, smiling almost shyly when his eyes landed upon Cathrine.

She smiled in return, feeling her cheeks flush pink the closer she came to her betrothed. As she and Georgie reached the alter steps, they both crossed themselves, gazing up at the magnificent cross that hung gloriously from the high chapel ceiling. It was then, Georgie took her hand from his arm into his own, giving her an encouraging glance while he lead her forward one more step.

Dickon held out his hand, still smiling and Catherine suddenly felt hers lifted; carried through the air before it was gently placed in the young Duke's. With one last reassuring squeeze, Georgie let go and she was truly given over to the youngest York boy.

Turning slightly, the young couple bowed and curtsied to the King, keeping their heads bowed until they returned their gaze to the archbishop who made the sign of the cross over them. Slowly, they sank to their knees and Catherine closed her eyes, preparing to speak her vows.

But there was one boy that could not, would not, leave her mind. One boy whom her heart told her she should be marrying, should be held to.....

Prince Edward.

꧁꧂

"The Duchess of Gloucester!" Dickon said again, smiling at his wife who was next to him. The ceremony had been rather a short one in the chapel, beginning with prayers and ending with the exchanging of rings; a soft kiss that Dickon had brushed against her lips.

Truly Catherine had never seen him so merry at the feast after but it was not out of joy of their marriage that he sang and danced, it was merely drink. It became quite clear within the first hour or so of the wedding feast that Edward was as determined as Satan to see that his youngest brother enjoyed himself, eager for him to drop the serious facade he wore.

Dickon, as ever, was happy to please his King and rather nervous, it seemed, drinking every drop that was offered to him and then some while Catherine did the same. She had never drunk as much as she did that night before and as the hours wore on she found her smile became easier and her laughs merrier. It was like she was floating.

Suddenly she and Dickon were talking like close friends, giggling together while they ate and drank, even danced! Her new husband was a nimble dancer, she found, even graceful in a way and she encouraged him into dancing three voltas where she could jump and skip to her hearts content while he held her! Edward watched from his throne, a mischievous grin on his face as he and the rest of the court clapped happily along to the mistral's melody, each of them rather in their cups.

"The Duchess of Gloucester!" Dickon would constantly say, speaking her new title in an almost trancelike state where his eyes would glaze over and a lazy smile would take over his lips. That seemed to amuse both of his brothers and even Catherine could not help but grin at his animated expressions that set her at ease along with the wine she drunk.

When he said the words again, she smiled at him, taking the goblet he offered her and taking a sip. The action of sharing a cup was a sign of intimacy only seen by couples of romantic intimacy, another thing that made Edward grin from his throne; leaning over to where the newly weds sat together.

"Already infatuated, little brother?" He asked, his words slurred slightly and turning to a laugh when Dickon flushed a hot red.
"I am simply trying to be a good husband to my Catherine wife"
"Catherine wife?" Edward repeated, making Catherine giggle "well that is a new one I must say Dickon! In a few years I shall expect a York heir from you two, mark my words!"

"Edward!" Cecily scolded from beside him, slapping his arm "Really, they are eleven! Children!"
"Children grow" George quipped, leading Margaret back up to the royal dais from where they had been dancing together.

"Oh shut up George!" Dickon slurred, his eyes suddenly growing heavy with sleep that made him slump tiredly in his chair.

"Time for bed" His Mother decided, swiftly rising from her chair and taking her youngest son and his wife gently by the hands, bringing them to their feet "Come my darlings" She told them gently and Dickon and Catherine willingly followed, not missed by the riotous courtiers that were far too occupied with each other and their drinks rather than the two children they were there to celebrate.

꧁꧂

Catherine felt herself begin to sober slightly as she was tucked into bed by the Duchess of York, kissed gently on the forehead. Cecily did the same to her son, bidding him a fond goodnight before she left, shutting his chamber door behind her.

Three servants had come when they had first entered the chamber, two undressing the little Duke and Duchess before placing them in bed while the third servant stoked the fire. Now it blazed and both Catherine and Richard gazed into it, drinking in its warmth instead of looking at one another.

She in her nightgown and he in his nightshirt, the two suddenly felt vulnerable and the Duchess shuffled back onto her pillows, casting her eyes to her hands. Without her jewels and silks she had nothing to hide the scared little girl that she was and gulped when Dickon shuffled up beside her.

He was slow, making sure his movements did not scare her, and carefully made his way across the covers until they sat shoulder to shoulder. She looked up when he covered her fidgeting hands with one of his own, gently squeezing slightly.

"Where is your necklace, my Lady?" He asked softly "The one with the emerald at the centre that you wore for your wedding to Georgie? I have only seen you wear a ruby one thus far" Catherine's eyes widened at that, surprised he would remember something of such trivial importance. But he had, he had remembered that day five years ago when he had caught her toying with Queen Marguerite's necklace and a part of her heart warmed to him.

Looking at the golden chain that encircled her neck, Dickon gently lifted it from her nightgown, bringing the Lancastrian Prince's ring to the light. The ruby it bore shone in the amber glow of the flames and Catherine saw his eyes light with awe, something that prompted her to take her precious ring back, tucking it into place.

"Is is my Mother's, my Lord" She lied, trying her best to smile at him "The emerald belonged to my Father but....I lost it, unfortunately"

"That is unfortunate" Dickon murmured, his eyes wandering up and down the golden chain before he curled a hand around one of hers and brought it to his lips, settling back against the pillows behind him. "Come" He told her gently and she obeyed, letting him tug her down to lay her head on his chest while he wrapped his arms around her "You are my wife now"

"And you my husband, I suppose" Catherine replied, finding she enjoyed the warmth beneath his shirt, the constant beat of his heart; that the steady weight of his arms around her. It reminded her of how Georgie would hold her when she suffered nightmares and that was a comfort.

"You suppose?" Dickon chuckled, holding up her hand which bore her sapphire wedding ring "So was this just a costly gift, my Lady?" She smiled up at him, a tired sigh leaving her lips "Sleep" He told her and she was more than willing to obey, letting sleep take her as it took him.