~Where Fear Lingers and Joy Dies~

"How long is the road to Fotheringhay, my love?"

From the pile of papers scattered across their bed, Richard looked up, observing his wife at the window. She was watching the snow fall, a favourite pastime of hers, eyes trained upon each delicate flake floating down from the sky as if it were an angel sent from heaven.

Her lithe body was tucked into the delicate arch, knees drawn up to her chest and hair loose beneath a crown of pearls. He'd always liked her hair loose and had a feeling he always would.

"About three weeks I should say" He replied, looking around at the packed coffers that crowded Catherine's rooms, each filled with gowns and jewels worthy of a Queen. 'Fine taste' He remembered Francis calling her indulgence of luxury, Richard simply thought it expensive but, then again, he was the one to indulge her and it made him happy to do so. He would never deny her a single thing, that could be sure!

Catherine had wasted no time in ordering the servants to pack for their move across the country, sitting in her chambers day after day while men and women buzzed around her. Richard did not know how many times he had heard her order a gown to be straightened or a necklace polished before it was placed in its casket! Once or twice he feared he would go mad but, looking at her serene figure now, he knew he could never go mad when she was around. That would only happen if she left.

"If we depart tomorrow, ma belle, we shall be there before Christmas! The festivities shall give us a chance to establish the household as our own and acquaint ourselves with the buildings!"
Catherine smiled at that.
"Will we not be expected at court? After all, the Queen has just given England another Princess!"

"Exactly!" Richard sighed, looking over his papers once again "Another Princess. They love little Mary, of course, but she is not the boy hoped for! Edward has given us permission to take leave of the court for Christmas, it shall be just us!"

"And Rob! And Francis!" Catherine volunteered, eager to integrate her dearest friends into her new life. Just because she was moving did not mean they had to be left behind!

"Aye" Richard murmured "Rob can but Francis is still underage and if you think he will be set free...."
"Then I am a fool!" She finished with a sigh "Some day he shall be free and then we will all be together again. After all, Rob said we are a family and I like the thought. Families should not be parted, not ever...."

Her soft voice trailed away at that and she leant her head reluctantly against the stone wall behind. She was right, families should not be parted....but hers had been and she feared it would forever be that way. Her Mother and brother, while secure, were no friends to the Yorkist court and she was sure that Henry would not likely be caught making friends with her husband.

Just like her, he had been schooled hard in loyalty to Lancaster (for far longer than she) and his sister could not for one moment imagine him swaying from that. 'Sister' She thought broodingly, how long had it been since she had thought herself a sister, since her brother had thought of her as one? Did he still remember her? After all, the had been parted for nine years, was there truly room for memory?

New beginnings.

That was what Richard had told her their move to Fotheringhay was a time for. New beginnings and new starts, a new path in life that joined their two roads together, intertwining them for all eternity. She was to leave Middleham behind, the cold stone walls, the warm solar, the stables and it's horses, little Anne Neville. She could not deny that she was glad to go (though she would miss her little friend) and yet, she felt there was something holding her back.

In order to start a new chapter in life, did the last one not need to be finished? Sealed with final words, final deeds so that it need never be looked upon again.

The Far Tower was the closing act of this particular chapter, the looming conclusion that seemed to cast the rest of her words into darkness. Only, she was not sure she could write it.

She had faced enough of her fears in her life,
Warwick.
Middleham.
The Yorks.
A return to Alnwick.
Marriage.

The last one she had conquered twice and both times found happiness but she was sure a return to the Far Tower would only bring her pain and misery. It was a place of utter desolation, unlike any other on earth, a place where fear lingered and joy died. Even though sun could seep through the single window carved into the stone, it was never warm, as if a cursed chill had been set over the place.

Catherine shivered involuntarily at the thought and Richard moved to the window, perching beside her to brush a curl back from her face.
"What is it, ma belle?"

She sighed, slowly, gazing out of the diamond panes of glass to the swirling clouds of snow. By the time the sun next set over the hills of Wensleydale, she would be gone, Richard would be gone....a new part of her life would begin, a new dawn.

But she could not see the dawn if she did not bid goodbye to the night.

"Richard?" She murmured and he smiled, gently cupping her face with his blade-roughened hands.
"Yes, sweetheart?"

"I want you to take me to the Far Tower"

꧁꧂

Catherine could hardly breathe as she approached the high, whitewashed walls looming above her. She had passed this Tower many times but never once looked at it, not properly. It was always in the corner of her eye, a memory long locked away; now opening like a fresh would as she walked towards the heavy oaken door bolted securely shut.

Richard fumbled with the keys at his belt while she shivered, looking at each mark, each scratch upon the wood that was exactly like she remembered. The heavy swing of the door opening made her jump and a gust of cold air met her skin, revealing the darkness of the lower chamber. Just as before, no light lit it, no life stirred within its four bleak walls, even the lone table was missing.

Only the steps remained.

The rickety steps lead to the next floor, to her prison. Richard placed an arm around her waist, feeling her flinch at his touch and pity twinge at his heart.
"You don't have to do this, my love" He told her but she only pushed his hand away, a shaking breath passing her lips as her feet forced her into the darkness.

'It's been so long' She thought, stepping carefully upwards to the second door and placing her hands against the cold wood 'So so long' Pushing gently, she remembered the times where she had sworn to herself she would never return to this cell of desolation and instantly recalled why when the small room was revealed to her.

"Oh God...."

Climbing slowly upwards, she stepped into the small room, shivering at the incessant chill that filled the air, hardly daring to breathe as her eyes swept the walls. All was just as she remembered.

The same bed still lay in one corner, narrow and old with a woollen blanket covering the prickly straw mattress beneath. Cobwebs filled every nook and the single window, the only giver of life, was covered in grime. It seemed not to have been touched since she left, simply left to rot for nine long years as she would have been if a purpose hadn't been found for her existence.

Wandering further into the room, Catherine felt her throat run dry, any words she might have spoken drying on her tongue as if she hadn't a drop to drink in days. Her chest tightened and she placed a hand to her bodice, forcing herself through each shaking breath taken.

The shelf that once held John's books was broken, upon the floor in a wooden heap, long forgotten. It had all been long forgotten. Hot tears stung her eyes.

How could anyone ever think to put a child in this place, she thought. Who was so cruel as to willingly inflict such pain and suffering as this place had brought? True, she had not been tortured until her bones broke, the Nevilles had not stretched her out upon a wrack....but they had broken her mind, her spirit.

And some things that are broken can never be fixed.

Stretching out her hands in front of her, Catherine looked at the rings adorning each finger, the fine silk crafting her elegant hanging sleeves; felt the delicate pearl earrings she wore. What the little girl she had been would've given to own such fine possessions in her time of need. All she'd had was her simple grey dress, Prince Edward's necklace and her own dwindling hope. Nothing more, nothing less.

She had been so small, so helpless, so weak, no great Lady as she was now. She was nothing.

"I was a child" She whispered, feeling one hot tear glide down her cheek "A little girl barely out of my nursery and yet.....I was held here....and no one seemed to see anything wrong with that"

Richard moved from behind her, reaching to take her hand but she pulled away, trying to suppress the sob in her throat "No" She said,with a shake of her head "No"

Feeling her legs weaken, she stumbled to the window, placing her hands on the cold stone and peering through the dirt-clad glass "How many times did I look out hoping to see my Father's banner?" She murmured "How many days did I waste hoping and sob myself to sleep when that hope was crushed at sunset? How many times....."

She still remembered the feeling of the light dimming within her, of the life draining from her young body. On many occasions she had thought of falling from the window before her, of squeezing through the tight frame and letting the long drop below take her. They were thoughts of desperation....but desperation had been the only thing six year old Catherine had....

One hand covered her mouth as a sob broke free of her lips and her eyes fluttered shut; lashes wet with tears.
"I was a child!" She cried "A child, Richard!" Legs giving way, she sunk to the floor only to find herself gathered into Richard's embrace. Her arms wound around him, holding him close while he cradled her, rocking her slowly back and forth "I was so scared" She wept, feeling her husband's own tears begin to drip onto her gown "I was terrified"

"And yet you survived" He told her, cupping her face and forcing their eyes to meet "You survived, Cate! You are here with me and I swear to you I will never let you be locked away again. With me you will always be free, always"

Continuing to sob, she leant into his arms, letting herself cry, letting all the rage, the sadness she felt swirling inside, loose upon to the world. Her body trembled, her breaths shook and her mind spun, trapping her in the darkness she'd been so afraid to face.

"Hold me" She whispered, burying her face in Richard's neck, desperate fingers clinging to the burgundy velvet of his doublet "Hold me, Dickon" He nodded, tugging her closer with a determination only King's could match.

"We will go" He told her firmly "We will leave here and go to our new home. We will be gone before Warwick even thinks of return because...." His breath hitched and Catherine continued to sob in his arms, pain and misery pouring out of her heart "Because if I do, I think I might just kill him"

꧁꧂

The Duke and Duchess took supper quietly in their rooms, looking at the bedchamber now stripped of its tapestries and fine furnishings.

"It's cold" Catherine murmured, aimlessly nudging the meat on her plate with a knife, pushing around the vegetables. Richard rose from his seat, stoking the fire with a metal poker before returning, sending her a wry smile from across the table.
"Still cold?"

Mirroring his expression, she nodded, letting him raise her from her chair and gently slip the heavy bed robe she wore from her body. His hands lingered on her shoulders, feeling the warmth of her skin beneath her nightgown. Catherine felt a lazy grin cross her lips, tilting her head up to receive a gentle kiss from her husband before she pushed his own robe from his body, leading him towards the bed.

He had been training that day, engaging in a last send-off from the other squires where he faced each one in hand to hand combat!

Of course, he had won. He was a better swordsman than any of his peers and twice as chivalrous; had been carried proudly from the tiltyard on the shoulders of his friends, much to her approval. Still, she'd seen how uncomfortably he shifted in the hours after and he gratefully flopped onto the pillows, smiling at Catherine who sat beside him.

"Here" She murmured, grinning at his relived groan when her hands began to gently release the wrought up tension in his muscles. Really, if she had her way, he would be resting and not wielding heavy metal from dawn to dusk but he was a knight, a York Prince. If anything, he was a man now, and soon Edward would start to send him on campaigns, campaigns of war.

She shook her head, ridding her mind of such horrible thoughts and continuing to relive her husband of pain. She was still talented at it and when Richard finally rolled onto his back, he held an expression of contentment on his youthful face.

"Thank you, my love" He murmured, pushing his dark curls away from his face and propping himself up against the headboard while she settled her head on his chest. His heart beat strongly beneath his shirt, an ever present reminder that he was with her, that she was protected and the next dawn they would embark on an adventure together. Richard wound his fingers into her hair, a small sigh passing his lips as she felt his body grow increasingly hotter beneath her. Hotter with desire.

Ever since their tryst in the hayloft two weeks prior, they had not had the chance to be so intimate, though both had had the inclination. Arranging a household move of royals had taken their time and most nights they fell into their bed exhausted. Not that night.

"Can I see your breasts, Cate?"
Catherine shot up from the covers, staring down at her husband with wide eyes while he flushed a dark red.
"....What?"

His blush darkened and he carded a hand through his hair watching her closely while her expression of surprise turned to one of curiosity. Suddenly, the bubbling excitement had returned to her belly and she felt her breaths catching in her throat, urging her to say yes.

"I have grown curious these past few months about what a women looks like beneath her gown" Richard explained "and Rob describes his conquests so" He paused "Vividly, I thought perhaps you could truly show me what he talks of, ma belle?" Despite the surprising nature of his question Catherine could not help but smile at it, at the gentle innocence in his eyes, clouded by lust.

She tilted her head to one side, brushing her fingers across his cheek while he looked to her in question, his gaze every so often wandering to the strings of her nightgown that guarded her body.
"Well" She mused "I suppose, who would be better than your own wife?" Richard sat up a little straighter, nodding his agreement.

"Who indeed....will you grant my request?"

They held each other's gaze for a moment, intimate and trusting while a pleasant warmth spread throughout Catherine's body. She felt safe with Richard, able to do what he asked of her without regret, though she could not deny the knot of nerves coiling in her stomach.

Slowly, she began to nod, watching a flare spark in Richard's eyes as she brought her hands to the front of her nightgown. Her fingers curled around the thin, silk cords, eyes never leaving the boy in front of her while she tugged at them, loosening the delicate bows until the front of her gown fell open and a rush of cool air hit her naked skin.

Her breasts were not revealed but they almost were, hidden by only a few centimetres of soft fabric she could see Richard wanted to remove. But he did not move his hands from where he'd fisted them in the covers, swallowing in anticipation while she took a steady breath.

Raising her fingers a little higher, Catherine slowly brushed away the silken garment, trying to control her uneven breaths as her sleeves slid down her arms, slowly revealing herself. She shook her braid free, letting the golden curls tumble to her waist while her nightgown settled on her hips, keeping her lower half hidden.

Taking another slow breath, she watched her husband's expressions with care, noticing each change, each movement to see if she was desirable. From the look of heavenly longing in his eyes, she knew she was and was emboldened enough to push her long hair behind her shoulders, letting him see her clearly. His dark eyes moved over her skin, every inch, every curve, his lips parting in adoring wonder.

"You are so beautiful, Cate...."

Catherine felt a shy smile curve her mouth and reached forward, one hand claiming his; guiding it towards her chest with gentle certainty.

"Touch" She encouraged, showing him how to gently cup her right breast, placing his hand against her skin and feeling his fingers tense with newfound knowledge.

Both of them gasped at the contact, Catherine's eyes fluttering shut as Richard's fingers began to explore, brushing over one rosy nipple that hardened at his touch. He marvelled at the soft roundness he held, glancing upwards to see his young wife in a state of pure bliss; her cheeks flushed and lips parted,

She was feeling true pleasure for the first time, he realised.

"Lie back, sweetheart" He whispered, kneeling up to place a kiss to her lips before guiding her to the pillows below, helping her rest her head. Feeling him shift above her, she opened her eyes, smilingly trustingly while he gently caressed her breasts, exploring each inch of skin with worship in his touch "Can I try something?" He asked nervously "Ned told me that you would like it"

Catherine nodded, giggling when his dark curls tickled her skin as he made his way down the bed, pressing delicate kisses down her neck and chest as he went. She shivered in delight, feeling the same want gathering in her stomach as she had on her birthday when his lips ghost across her breasts. A small moan escaped her when his mouth landed on her hardened nipple, gentle yet overwhelming all the same.

A hot rush flooded between her thighs, making her tilt her head back into the pillows beneath, all the while consumed within an ocean of safety. She trusted him, she trusted him so much.

Indulging in a fantasy held for many months, she plunged her hands into his dark hair, gently tugging on the curls and eliciting a soft groan from him.
"Dickon...." She whispered and he smiled against her skin, gently wrapping his lips around her nipple and tugging on it with his teeth. Catherine moaned, louder this time, covering her mouth at the elicit sound she was sure was wrong....yet felt so right.

She was swimming in an ocean of pleasure, her body drowning in a warmth that spread throughout her veins, her mind. Her desire for Richard became a need, an urgent need for his touch, for his kisses "Oh" She gasped sweetly when he began to gently suckle her, hot, white light flashing before her eyes.

Suddenly he was peering upward, intense and concerned, his sweet caresses abruptly halted.
"D....did I hurt you, my love?"
She shook her head wordlessly, breathless.
"No....no, Dickon, do that again...."
Assured, he bent his head once more with a grin.

Clinging onto him, her hands tugged on his ebony curls, wanting more, wanting him closer. His hands moved over her body, dancing across her skin to her waist which he held in a gentle hold she never wished to leave. Her hips began to raise of their own volition, a sheen of sweat breaking out onto her flushed skin when another soft moan passed her open lips. "Richard...."

"Cate" He gasped in return, reaching up a hand to caress her left breast while gently kissing her right, grazing her nipple with his teeth "Sweetheart...." Catherine found she could not form a reply, the words refused to appear on her lips, on her tongue. Her mouth ran dry, void of all but the sweet sounds that escaped her, sounds Richard was conjuring.

Her husband.
Her Lord.
Her love.

She never wanted to let him go and, in that moment, knew that she never would. Nor he her.

꧁꧂

"And you had better come back Dickon!" Rob laughed as the two friend's embraced on the castle steps, grinning good naturedly "God knows who will be able to keep the rest of this rabble in check!"
"You will!" Richard returned, patting Rob's arm before he hugged Francis, locking the younger boy into his firm embrace "And you, Francis! I expect to find you a man when we meet again!"

Francis beamed, holding his head high as the two saluted each other, a gesture of honour and respect that made them both smile. From behind, the other boys smiled, waving enthusiastically while Catherine waved back, walking to Richard's horse as Margery climbed into her carriage with Roland by her side.

The Duke and Duchess decided they would ride together, the actions of the previous night still singing songs of warmth in their veins. Catherine did not think she had ever felt so complete, so whole and when Richard came to her, she smiled, kissing him softly while the squires whistled in the background.

"Come" He murmured against her lips, lifting her up onto his ebony stallion's back before he mounted behind her, placing his hands securely around her waist. They would ride away from the rest of the procession, riding through the valley to their new home without a care in the world. Their new home.

The thought made Catherine sigh with happiness and as she and her husband rode over the Middleham drawbridge, the squires cheering in the background, she did not look back once. Not once.

She only looked forward, a soft smile on her lips as Richard grinned behind her.
"Onto our new world!" He declared and nudged his horse, sending the animal bolting into the trees while Catherine laughed her delight.