~Sons and Heirs~

11th of February 1466, Westminster Palace....

Catherine lay her sewing to the side as Margery all but flew through the doors of her chambers, a scroll in hand that bore the royal seal of England. It had been but two days since she had made her request from the Queen but it seemed her charm and timing had worked!

"It's here!" The Duchess breathed, beaming at her friend as she was handed the sacred scroll and resisted the urge to tear open the seal there and then, with reckless abandon. 'No' She thought as eager fingers reached for it, this must be done carefully, slowly. After all, her family's salvation could be contained within the rolled up parchment and not one ounce of damage could be done to it.

Nervous excitement bubble in her stomach.
This could be her family's making or her undoing, all of it lay on Elizabeth's wiles; her beauty and the babe growing in her womb.

"Open it" Margery encouraged, taking a seat next to her mistress "You will only know once you do!" Catherine nodded, taking a shaky breath as she slowly peeled back the crimson seal and the parchment unravelled in her hands. An array of colours were painted around the boarder, elegant writing filling the space between them, with the all important Edward R at the bottom.

"This is it!" She breathed and Margery giggled, urging her to read on. She did.

Her eyes darted of the first lines of writing, mostly formalities, words of state that had to be spoken for legal terms. But that was not what she wanted. She wanted to see if she had achieved her family's salvation and, soon enough....she found she had.

I, King Edward of England, fourth of that name since the conquest, do see fit to bestow all the rights of the Barony of de Poynings to Eleanor De Poynings, daughter of Sir Richard de Poynings and former Countess of Northumberland.

Furthermore, I bestow upon her son, the notably noble Henry Percy, formerly Earl of Northumberland, the castle of Berkeley and all the surrounding lands. Let my orders be bestowed from this day, the tenth of February in the year of our Lord 1466.

Edward R

Catherine let out a cry of joy, springing from her seat as tears of happiness flooded to her eyes. She had done it! She had saved her family, restored them, perhaps not to favour, but to riches, to status! Berkeley Castle was perhaps one of the grandest in the land, with comfort all around. Her Mother and brother would no longer live in dark shame, they would live in light!

Her brother may not have the Earldom of Northumberland but the blow would be lessened now, especially since Eleanor now held the rights to her Barony! Oh, she had won, she thought triumphantly, not a full victory but a small one! She had helped her family, she, Catherine Percy, the Duchess of Gloucester, second Lady in the land, had saved her Mother and her brother!

"They will be so pleased!" She exclaimed, turning to Margery who was crying too, out of happiness for her Lady's joy. She wiped away her tears, taking Catherine's hands as she rose and laughing again when the girl locked her into a tight embrace "I have won, Margery! They have won! Elizabeth has shown mercy and so has Edward!"

"So they have!" She hesitated slightly, pulling away "Do you think this will make you look more favourably on the House of York?"
At that, Catherine frowned, making her take her seat once more with the all important letter in hand.

"I don't know" She confessed aloud, her brows furrowing deep in thought "If York had never taken the throne my Father would still be alive and my brother would have never had lost his lands in the first place! But I suppose...." She added with a sigh "Edward has shown me kindness so, perhaps....perhaps I should not judge him as harshly as I do?"

Margery nodded her agreement, opening her mouth to reply but before she could, the chamber doors burst open. Mary Woodville was revealed, curls of golden hair tumbling loose from her braid and her chest heaving beneath her heavy gown. With one hand, she leant against the doorway, gasping for air; trying to form words.

"Wine!" Catherine ordered but Margery was already completing her command, pouring a goblet of the finest Burgundian red and passing it to the flushed Woodville girl. Mary drank the liquid in heavy gulps, not stopping once to relish the taste of the wine on her tongue. She had much more important business to attend to.

"The Queen!" She sputtered when finally able, passing the empty goblet to Margery and beckoning to the young Duchess "It's the Queen, my Lady!"
"The Queen?" Catherine repeated, taking Mary's arm and beginning to drag her back the way she came, though she had no idea where she was going "What has happened to Elizabeth?"

"She's in labour!"
Catherine's eyes widened, her breaths quickening at the news.

"Margery! Fetch towels and hot water!" She yelled over her shoulder, breaking into a run with Mary towards the Queen's chambers "Oh god I hope we are in time!"
"We will be!" The Woodville girl said, almost slipping on the skirt of her gown as they turned a corner. "Lizzie asked for you specifically, she wants you to help her Catherine!"

Catherine could only nod, shuddering as she heard the first of the Queen's agonised screams. It echoed through the halls like the cry of a siren, desperate and scraping yet luring the two girls ever closer until they burst through the doors of Elizabeth's chambers.

She stood groaning against the bedpost of her luxurious bed, crimson gown partially unlaced while her mother slipped the shoes from her feet.
"Ah! Catherine! Mary!" Jaquetta exclaimed when she saw the two lingering in the doorway "Come! Come and help!"

They snapped to attention, Mary rushing to pull back the bed covers while Catherine attended to the rest of Elizabeth's gown. Pulling the laces free, she pushed the heavy velvet from her shoulders and helped her to step free of it as the material pooled at her feet. Her kirtle came next and was quickly discarded to the side so she only stood in her shift, sweat already beginning to seep through the thin garment.

"Damn, when will the midwives arrive?" Jaquetta demanded, helping her daughter to her bed, lying her atop the covers and plumped up pillows "Elizabeth has been like this for almost three hours I declare!"

Elizabeth threw her head back, eyes tightly shut while she groaned in pain. Her delicate hands, normally alabaster were turned an alarming red as she clutched at her belly, trying desperately to breathe "Get behind her, Catherine!" Jaquetta suddenly ordered and Catherine was too dazed to disobey, clambering onto the covers so she could manoeuvre herself behind the labouring Queen.

"It's alright, Elizabeth" She whispered, taking her quaking hands "You shall have your York....child soon! Think of that, Edward's child in your arms!"
"Edward...." Elizabeth groaned and a band of midwives suddenly burst through the door, Margery leading them.

"This way! Attend to your Queen" She commanded sternly before curtsying to Jaquetta "Apologies, my Lady, they were lost within the palace!"
"Lost!" Jaquetta scoffed, glaring at the women gathering around her daughter with narrowed eyes. "They should know better!"

"I agree!" Margery quipped, tossing the towels she had brought by the bed and quickly placing one beneath the Queen to avoid spoiling the sheets with the crimson blood that was beginning to drip from her.

Again, Elizabeth trembled with pain, letting out a scream that shook Catherine as well as she. The young Duchess' hennin swayed dangerously upon her head and she suddenly felt the urge to cast it off, to throw it to the floor. It was no use in a situation like this! Calling to Mary, the Woodville girl made quick work of the metal pins binding the headdress to Catherine's hair and soon a tumble of golden hair fell about her shoulders.

"Thank you"
Mary curtsied, quickly scurrying away to fetch cold water for her Mother to press to the Queen's forehead.

"Not long now!" One midwife called and Catherine looked up in surprise. She thought birthing took days, hours upon hours of sweat and screaming before a baby would be born. But, she supposed, she may only think as such because the only births she had ever known were the ones of her little sisters.

Her dead little sisters.

Never in her thirteen years of life had she seen a successful birth and suddenly began to worry that this one may go wrong too!

Listening to Elizabeth's deafening screams she could well believe it.

"Never fear child" Jaquetta told her gently when she caught her worried expression; pressing a cool sponge to her daughter's burning forehead "Elizabeth has had two healthy sons before this, she can give birth to another!" Catherine only nodded, squeezing the Queen's hands in encouragement as she began to push, a cry of pain tearing through her at the action "That's it, my dear! Push! Push!"

The call was soon taken up by others and soon even the Duchess herself was encouraging Elizabeth to push, taking Jaquetta's sponge to mop her damp brow.
Again and again, the woman in her arms screamed, her golden hair a tangle around her that she had to constantly smooth back, finding the flaxen strands slicker with sweat each time.

"Once more!" The chief midwife called and the Queen did as she was bade, screaming one last time while she pushed until her body sagged against Catherine's small one, her chest heaving. A small cry filled the air, quiet but healthy, oh so healthy and growing stronger by the second. The room was filled with a sigh of relief and Elizabeth released a small laugh.

"Give my my boy Mary" She whispered through tears and a smile, watching her sister take up the wiggling, pink human into her arms "Let me see him"
"It's a girl" Mary said bluntly, casting her eyes to the ground as the Queen's face fell slightly in disappointment "Here, take her"

Despite her momentary dismay, Elizabeth held out her arms, letting the Duchess help her up as she accepted the little Princess who wailed eagerly into the air.

Catherine thought her a strange thing to look upon, still partially covered in blood with a dusting of red hair crowning the top of her head. Her eyes were screwed shut, her plump mouth twisted into a disgruntled little frown that only opened when she wished to mewl her discontentment. The baby squirmed, her tiny hands balled into little red fists that stretched, beginning to frailly pummel her Mother's chest.

"Ah!" Jaquetta laughed, reaching out to stroke the downy hair on top of the baby's head "A girl, Elizabeth"
"A girl" The Queen repeated dreamily, now beaming down at the Princess in her arms with infinite love.

"Where is my son?" Edward's voice suddenly demanded, raising in intensity as someone tried to stop him "No! I am the King, you cannot keep him from my side...." Breathless and in his shirt and breeches, Edward suddenly appeared by the bed, his eyes void of all but love for the tiny human he saw in his wife's arms.

"It's a girl" Elizabeth breathed, her smile fading slightly again "It's a girl"

At that, Edward's face seemed to change too but it was only a flicker of a moment before he grinned again and reached out for his daughter.
"Take the head!" Jaquetta ordered, almost frantically, one bejewelled hand following the now quiet babe as be lifted her into his strong arms.

Gazing down at the little face before him, Edward began to laugh, happy tears pricking at his eyes.
"She is a beautiful girl!" He declared, looking to his wife "We will love her very well"
"We will have boys....Edward, sons and heirs...."

"I know!" He told her, reaching down to gently smooth back a damp curl from her face "You are so lovely, Elizabeth, I could not bear to lose you"

꧁꧂

Dressed in a clean nightgown and tucked beneath clean sheets, Elizabeth smiled down at the little girl in her arms.

"My Lizzie" She whispered, brushing a gentle kiss to the baby's forehead while the young Duchess of Gloucester giggled beside her, smoothing out the braid she had crafted in her golden hair.

"She is beautiful, Elizabeth"
"Isn't she just!" The Queen cooed, patting the covers so that Catherine sat by her, gazing fondly at the sleeping babe "She is my Princess and I wish" Two pairs of blue eyes met, one happy, the other curious "I wish for you to be her Godmother"

Catherine gasped, her mouth falling agape at the honour that had just been bestowed upon her. To be the Godmother to the Princess? It was a gift only given to those of the highest in favour, those treasured by the King and Queen.

"Truly?"
Elizabeth smiled, slowly pushing herself up a little more onto the plumped up pillows.
"Here" She said gently, offering little Lizzie "Take her" Catherine nodded, accepting the small bundle with care and holding her breath when the small girl began to wriggle, trying to settle herself into this new embrace.

She had never held a babe before, not once, but as the small child snuggled into her bodice, she began to feel her heart warm towards the little Princess. Lizzie was such a small thing, of such high rank yet so helpless, so much so that Catherine could not help but feel protective of her. She hugged her closer to her chest and the Queen smiled.

"You shall do well as a Mother when you have your own"

"My own?" Catherine exclaimed before hushing herself for fear of waking the sleeping child "My own?" She repeated a little quieter and Elizabeth nodded.
"Your own" She confirmed "You shall be a good Mother, Catherine and now I ask you to be a Godmother to mine. Do you accept?"

The young Duchess smiled and nodded, leaning down to press a soft kiss to little Lizzie's button nose. Almost a promise of her love and protection.
"I accept" She whispered "I accept with all my heart"
"Good" Elizabeth murmured, reaching to take back her babe when she began to mewl a little, writhing in her silk blankets "Now go, child, rest as I do"

꧁꧂

2 days later, Westminster Abbey....

Standing beside the marble font with her husband and the Duchess of York, Catherine smiled down into little Lizzie's face. Her gown was of cloth of gold, her headdress too, a fine caul adorned with pearls that matched her Mother in law's.

The christening was lavish affair, as was expected of any royal celebration. The streets were once more draped in blue and murrey banners and the little Princess held aloft to the crowds by her Father as the procession paraded from the Palace. Westminster Abbey was crowded with courtiers, each dressed in their best and craning their bejewelled necks to catch a glimpse of the King's daughter.

Of the Lancastrian girl selected for the honour of being her Godmother.

Lizzie was quiet as the Archbishop of Canterbury poured drops of icy cold water over her little head, making the sign of the cross. Edward beamed proudly at the sight, garbed in his Kingly robes and smiling upon his daughter as if she truly were the son he wished for. Richard wore a rare smile too, resting one tender hand on Catherine's waist while he gazed, not at the Princess, but at her.

'There it is' Edward thought with a smirk as he watched his little brother. He had always known pious Dickon would one day appreciate beauty, the beauty that blossomed in his wife, and, now, it seemed to be happening. He looked at her, not as a duty, but as a desire. He wanted to look only he did not want to be caught and when he saw his brother watching he quickly cast his gaze to the ground.

'He will soon grow out of that' Edward mused, remembering how he had gone from looking at girls to wanting them in his bed at around the same age. Truth be told, he was just pleased that the match seemed to be working and did not have to look for much longer to see Catherine stared at Richard too. Only, it was not clear what she stared at him with. Affection? Love? Friendship?

Whatever it was, it was good, that much he knew.

The young pair cradled his daughter between them, small smiles on their faces. Smiles of love so pure it could almost be believed Lizzie was their own. Perhaps one day they would have a daughter? A daughter of their own and sons too. Every son of York needed his own boys, his own heirs to secure their dynasty and their wives were the only ones who could give them that.

Legitimately at least.
Catherine would do well, the King thought, just like Elizabeth would do and one day, they would all have strong York boys.

"She is beautiful" Catherine whispered and Richard nodded his agreement, taking the small child into his arms to be named the Princess' Godfather. He held her carefully, surprisingly well for a boy so young, supporting her head in the crook of his elbow while she snuggled into him. "You hold her well, my Lord"

"As do you" He replied softly, glancing up to let their eyes meet "You look very pretty today, my Lady"

Catherine blushed heavily, casting her eyes to the ground. It was a strange, and recent, thing for her but Richard's quiet compliments no longer simply made her flush with happiness. They made her feel giddy inside, like when she was chasing a deer, crossbow in hand. It made her heart pound, adrenaline rush through her veins, lifting her above reality for a moment.

She never felt the same when anyone else paid her a complement. She felt pleased, of course, thankful and she would almost always blush but not as she did with Richard. Nothing was the same with Richard.

Not anymore.