~The Sun of my Earth~

June 1468, three months later....

Catherine and Richard could only marvel in awe as the months of pregnancy began to change Catherine's young body. Her breasts swelled, becoming almost painfully tender, so that he had to be careful whenever he caressed her, and her belly began to expand, possessing a soft curve that was the first true sign of life.

The young Duke and Duchess found that they adored nothing more than to spend an evening by the fire, their hands placed gently atop her swelled stomach in the hope of feeling a little kick or movement. Both yearned to feel their child beneath their fingers, to know that their baby was safe and healthy, a strong York ready to enter the world.

No such movement had been felt yet but they were assured that they soon would and neither could wait for that fantasy to become true.

At just fifteen, Catherine knew that she was rather young to carry a child and it appeared Richard knew this too for he hardly ever let her out of his sight. Day after day he sent for the best physicians in the land to examine her and the babe, his constant worry for her health as endearing as it could be irritating at times!

Whatever she wished to do, Richard insisted upon doing it with her, weather that was taking a walk in the gardens or climbing the stairs to bed. He was there each second, each step, one arm around her waist and his gaze constantly on the soft swell of her belly. He came to be recognised as constantly carrying a look of deep worry in his eyes, one that at times appeared the nerves of an excited child and at others the true concern of a man soon to become a Father.

At least five times a day he asked his Duchess if she was well and took to asking each of her servants the same, keeping a close watch on her every move. He knew Catherine sometimes felt he was restricting her, especially when he suggested she no longer hunt nor ride, but he was determined to keep she and their baby safe.

The news that she was with child had all but consumed him and now nothing else on earth mattered. All he cared about was Catherine's safety an the safety of their baby. His little son or daughter. Each night he prayed to God for their health and that the birth would go well, an event that was still months away yet loomed over the young couple like a dark cloud.

For all the joy a new child brought, childbirth could prove to be all but a death sentence for all Mothers, no matter how young or how many babes they had born before. Childbed fever could as easily take a soul from earth as childbirth itself and, although she had not spoken of it, Richard knew Catherine feared the day when their baby would come into the world.

Each night, he prayed with all his heart that the birth would be easy and as painless as possible. He was determined not to lose her, or their child.

꧁꧂

Catherine leant her head back into the pillows as the summer breeze blowing into her bedchamber through the open windows, danced over her bare skin. Golden hair flowing loose around her face, her diamond pendant was her only adornment and she smiled contently as her fingers brushed against it; nails digging into the delicate grooves of her motto.

She sighed.

The day was bright and more than pleasant, encasing the castle of Fotheringhay in rays of merry light that helped the flowers in the garden bloom. But despite the good weather, a sudden bout of tiredness had forced her to keep to her room and so she lay on her bed, gazing down at the soft curve of her belly.

"You are tiering me, little one" She whispered, cradling the gentle swell in her hands and once more hoping to feel even a small kick "Do you wish for me to sleep my days away?" She smiled, once more leaning back against the pillows and sighing contently as the breeze brushed against her body. It was strange to talk aloud to herself when she was alone, to speak her hopes and dreams into the air when there was no one around to hear.

Only, the realisation had soon come that there was one to hear. Her baby. And she was their Mother, another strange realisation.

She was to be a Mother, the vessel carrying another life to earth and then caring for it. She, Catherine Percy, would be this child's Mother and Richard would be their Father. They would be parents with the duty of caring for another person and such a duty seemed more important than any the King himself could ever dish out to them!

Her baby would not be of York or Lancaster, their fate ever intertwined with the thorny stems of the white and red rose. They would be hers and hers alone, her baby, her child and never would she let war reach its ugly fingers through the nursery door.

"My little one....you shall be the sun of my earth" Catherine whispered, staring dreamily up at the embroidered canopy of her bed until the call of Richard's voice alerted her to reality once more.

"My love? I...."
His gasp filled the bedchamber and Catherine could not help but smirk at the way his eyes widened at the sight of her naked body laid out before him. She arched an eyebrow, tilting her head to one side while she shrugged, answering the question on his lips.

"I was too hot, my Lord"

Richard nodded, gaze never wandering as his foot pushed the door shut behind him and his hands began to tug at his doublet. Pulling the garment open, he tossed it aside, the image of his wife before him enough to instantly make desire rush through his veins and his cock harden in his breeches.

"I think...." He breathed, stumbling forward and tugging his shirt over his head "That I am now too hot as well" Catherine's amused laugh answered and she welcomed him into her arms as he lay down beside her, their bodies instantly pressing together in desire that came naturally to them. Their lips met and the two were instantly consumed with warmth and want, Catherine arching as Richard's tentative fingers touched her breasts, making her moan.

"Oh, my love...." His kisses descended to her neck, covering the golden chain she wore in his love while she smiled "I remember you once said you would give a lot to see me only wearing this...." Richard's breaths became ragged against her skin and he trembled with desire, nodding with a groan that turned to a gasp as he suddenly felt movement in Catherine's belly. A firm little foot pressing against her skin.

The young couple jumped, their desire snapping to shock at the movement that made them both marvel in awe. Their baby had kicked, their baby had moved! And both of them had felt it, felt the first signs of the true life stirring within Catherine's womb.

"Dickon....did you?"
He nodded and her quiet voice trailed away when he placed his hands against her belly in the excited hope of feeling the babe kick again "Our child...."

"Our child" He repeated, nodding again before he looked up at her and his heart became fit to burst with love. Her cheeks were rosy with colour, her hair like spun silk flowing around her face, dancing across the soft curves of her body, lying atop pale skin turned to pure gold in the sunlight. He did not think he had ever seen a sight so beautiful nor one he would rather look upon for all eternity.

Motherhood suited her, none could deny that.

"Oh, ma belle" He whispered, cupping her face with blade-roughened hands made tender with love "If it would not cause a scandal I would have you painted, just as you are now" Once again, her content laugh answered him and she pressed her body against his, feeling him hard through his breeches.

"Ah, but then you would have to let another see me" She replied and brushed back the ebony curls from his flushed face, helping him to gently lie atop her without hurting their babe "And I don't think you would like that, now would you my Lord?"
"No..." He admitted a little ruefully "No I would not, Cate. Ned and I have never thought the same when it comes to women but we have never liked sharing what we desire and I would not want to share you, not ever"

He frowned a little, once again brushing a hand across her breasts, cupping one in a way that made her shiver with delight. Jealousy was not in his nature but it seemed to be woven into his blood when it came to his wife and his frown deepened at the thought of another seeing her as she was now. Naked and unguarded.

"Good" Catherine murmured, resting her head against the pillows propped up behind her "because I do not want to be shared. I am yours, Richard and yours alone so, admire me while you can for I fear once this babe is born my beauty will be gone, I remember the tolls childbearing took on my mother...."
"And did her beauty ever fade despite that?"

He rolled to one side, gazing down into her pretty face that peered up at him with love and longing. Slowly, she shook her head. Despite the trials her Mother had faced, Eleanor's beauty had never faded, even if the glow of youth had long since deserted her in grief.
"No...."

"Exactly!" Richard declared, kicking off his boots so he could shuffle further onto the bed "And nor shall yours! You are the most beautiful woman in Christendom, Catherine Plantagenet, more beautiful than Elizabeth Woodville and you, carrying our child, our son, a York Prince" A soft smile lit his lips and he gazed down at her rounded belly, thinking of the child growing within that he knew he loved more than life itself "it only increases your beauty ten fold....I have never seen such radiance"

A pretty blush stained Catherine's cheeks and she cast her eyes demurely to the covers between them, desire stirring in her belly once again. Catherine Plantagenet he had called her, not Catherine Percy and, despite herself, her heart warmed at the name, a familiarity to it that made her settle further into Richard's embrace.

"You are so sure it is a boy?" She whispered and he shrugged.

"Not sure, my love, but I do hope. Every man hopes for sons and Edward has told George and I more than once that we must have our own to secure the dynasty. But...." Now it was his turn to blush "I admit....I would like a daughter"

He placed a hand against her belly and smiled, his voice softer than a whisper "She would have golden curls and look just like you, though she would have my eyes, that way she will be ours! She would have your boldness, my loyalty and one day she would be a Queen, our girl. Boy or girl, we will love this child for we shall have many sons and daughters, of that I am sure. All I truly wish for, beyond my duty, is their safety....and yours"

Gazing up at her, he smiled, groaning when her lips descended on his, hot and hungry. Desire burned in her veins, pounding through her blood with a need that craved satisfaction. She would have him, she would have him then and there for she was sure she had never loved him as much as she did in that moment.

"Take me" She gasped when he responded, pressing eager kisses down her neck, ragged breaths escaping his parted lips as he nodded.
"What about baby?"

Catherine groaned, arching against the covers while she tried to think. Grasping Richard by the shoulders, she pushed him onto his back, determinedly straddling him and grinning when his hands held her hips.
"Did it hurt baby last night?" She asked, breathless "Or the night before?"

Richard grinned, shaking his head. Even though both knew it was considered a great sin to bed a woman while she was with child, their desire for one another could not be quelled. If anything, it had increased, their need to show the other their adoration spilling into the hours of each night, even if they tried to be more careful than usual.

Encouraged by his smile, Catherine unlaced his breeches, helping him to push them down his hips while she raised herself up onto her knees. Richard's fingers slipped between her legs, causing her to cry out when two entered her, finding her already wet and more than ready for him. Her hips canted and a soft moan left her lips, followed by another demand that he have her.

Richard was more than happy to oblige, helping her slowly sink down onto his cock in a steady movement that had them both crying out. Gasping, Cathrine buried her head in his shoulder, burying her hands in his dark curls, relishing the exquisite feeling of being filled. Her senses swam and a dazed smile crossed her lips that formed a satisfied O when Richard began to rock her hips back and forth.

Soon, she began to move of her own volition, rolling her hips into his quicker and quicker the more her pleasure grew. The coiling in her belly tightened and she gazed at her husband through half-lidded eyes. His skin was flushed and he forced himself upright, gently taking one hardened nipple between his teeth and tugging.

Catherine cried out, pressing against him while she sought his lips, tugging on his hair until he looked up at her.
"Never leave me" She whispered, her eyes fluttering closed when his hands slid over her backside, pulling her hips down again.
"Never" He gasped "Never, I swear"

꧁꧂

August 1468, Fotheringhay....

Richard wrote to his Mother in July and by August, the great Duchess of York had entered her son's lands with her extensive entourage.

While Cecily Neville was a figure of austere nobility, a stern woman if ever there was one, she would never deny the call of her family. She was devoted to her kin, both Neville and Plantagenet, and with a child upon the horizon, she was eager to play her part, just as she always did. A woman familiar to loss, she rode across the land not only to support her daughter in law but also her son, determined to be by his side if such happy events went awry.

As she rode through the village streets, she was cheered, her arrival at Fotheringhay more of a homecoming for the castle had been her husband's pride and joy. The people remembered the late Duke with fondness and welcomed his Duchess with adoration in their voices, crossing themselves as she passed with her head held high. Proud Cis would never let it fall. 

Richard and Catherine were dressed in their finest garments for her arrival, bare heads crowned with glittering coronets that shone in the summer sun. That had been something the young Duke had insisted on, eager to make his Mother proud and show him that he was now a man in his own domain, not a boy in a nursery.

In making her proud, he would be making his Father so and there was little else he wished for other than that. He had ordered the finest feast the cooks could conjure that night and already the smell of roast boar and suckling pig filled the air, a sweet taste of the mouth-watering meal that was to come.

As they waited upon the freshly swept bailey steps, Richard took to fiddling with his belt, glancing anxiously at the guards around them to ensure their armour was polished, their pikes sharpened. Everything had to be perfect and from beside him, Catherine smiled, slipping her hand into his.

"Do not fret, my love" She told him, guiding his hand to the curve beneath her gown "It shall do neither of us good"

Silently, he nodded, stepping closer to her side in an effort to calm his nerves while the cheers of the people rang clear throughout the air, his Mother's name a beloved memory upon their lips. They cheered until their voices were hoarse but when the Duchess finally rode into the courtyard, Catherine wondered how they had not been struck dumb by the shimmering figure that appeared. For she certainly was.

Cecily Neville was a majestic sight, garbed in cloth of gold with a horned headdress, studied with rubies binding her golden hair. A sheer veil of silk flowed behind her, rings glistening on almost every finger that clasped the sturdy leather reins of her mare. Carriages and soldiers followed in her wake, all draped in murrey and blue linen with her husband's sigil emblazoned on the fine material.

Her cornflower blue eyes swept the courtyard, a familiar warmth within their depths that only appeared when she was truly pleased. Or, at least, content. She appeared a Queen and the Fotheringhay household slowly sunk to their knees, a sign of the great respect she commanded from one mere glance.

Even Catherine and Richard bowed their heads, keeping their eyes lowered to the steps as Cecily pulled her horse to a halt. Extending one bejewelled hand a small smile curved the corners of her full lips and she walked gracefully down the wooden steps placed by her side, pulling her heavy skirts with her. Again, her eyes swept her surroundings, the large bailey and the surrounding buildings, each of which were so familiar to her gaze.

If she listened closely enough, she could still hear her beloved husband's voice calling her name, the laughter of their children as they played.

"Lady Mother! Welcome to Fotheringhay!"

Cecily's smile widened and she welcomed her youngest son into her embrace, gently kissing is cheek. When he pulled away, she could not help but marvel at how much he had grown, now standing taller than she and possessing the same determined look his Father always had.

"Ah, my Dickon" She whispered, placing a hand to his cheek and chuckling when he flushed happily. She only ever called him Dickon when she was pleased "How good it is to see you"
"And you, Lady Mother!" He replied warmly, taking her hand and leading her ceremoniously towards the steps where Catherine waited, dipping into a small curtsy.

"And of course, my dearest Catherine!" Cecily exclaimed, her smile widening at the sight of her daughter in law and the joy that lit her son's eyes when he gazed at her. Catherine blushed prettily, accepting the Duchess' warm embrace and chuckling when she felt elegant hands on her belly, gently cradling it "You do this house proud" Cecily murmured and Richard puffed out his chest beside her, clasping his hands behind his back "How are you, my dear?"

"Well, Lady Mother" Catherine answered, giggling when her husband came to stand at her side, wrapping one supportive arm around her waist "As you can see, my Lord husband has been taking very good care of me!"

Cecily nodded, sighing happily as she swept past the royal couple and ascended the bailey steps, her long skirts flowing as a river of gold behind.
"Come, my children!" She ordered swiftly, nodding to the guards that stood on either side of the large oak doors giving entrance to the castle "We have much to attend to! Especially Catherine's confinement rooms!"

Below, the courtyard descended into chaos, York servants rushing here and there as coffers were carried, horses tugged to their stables and hoards of chests containing jewels and books hauled from carts. Catherine and Richard watched with wide eyes, gazing at the armfuls of silk carried past them by a multitude of servants, each in murrey and blue.

"She does not travel lightly, does she, Dickon?"
Richard shook his head, grinning with amusement as he took his wife's hand and escorted her inside, eager for her to stay out of the rays of scorching sun longer than needed. He was sure it would do her health no good.

"You say that as if you do, my love" He replied, earning a small nudge to the ribs that made him chuckle.

꧁꧂

"What shall you name him" Cecily asked as she sewed by the fire, glancing across at Richard and Catherine, both of whom were admiring the latter's swelled belly. Their joined hands rested atop the silk of her gown, soft smiles on their faces until Richard looked up at his Mother's question.

"If it is a boy, we shall name him Edward" He declared "Or perhaps Richard" At that, Catherine glanced up, a small giggle leaving her lips.
"Wouldn't it be rather arrogant to name your first son for yourself?" She asked and Richard chuckled, pulling her closer while Cecily watched on.

'Ah, the young love of youth' She thought, plucking her needle through the circle of silk she held. She remembered well the everlasting glow such an innocent love brought, the strength of such a beautiful connection that would hold them fast until death. That was what her marriage had been filled with, an unwavering adoration that brought unimaginable pain when it was broken by the blood-lust of others.

Looking at the young couple before her, she silently prayed neither would feel such a pain, one so terrible it could tear the very soul from the body.

"And if it is a girl?" She ventured, eager to distract her mind from the trapping depths of grief she knew she was able to sink to. Catherine looked up, smiling again at the question.
"If it is a girl I wish for her to be called, Eleanor, for my Mother or perhaps Cecily for you but" She paused a moment, rubbing a hand over her gown "But I do not think this child is a girl and I do not know why. Do you think a woman can trust such intuition?"

"Of course!" Cecily laughed "There is no intuition better than your own when it comes to your child and Eleanor is a fine name, the name of your Mother and my beloved sister, your grandmother!"

Catherine nodded her thanks, taking a sip of watered down wine from the goblet Richard offered to her and settling back into her chair. Her eyes gazed into the flames dancing in the hearth, their golden and amber glow casting shadows upon the walls that swayed like candles in the wind.

While a name was important for a child, especially one of such high rank as hers would be, she had actually tried to intentionally avert the topic with her husband. Whenever he brought it up, she diverted their conversation to what their child would grow to be and how they would raise them, so, a name was never settled on.

At least, not aloud.

But from the moment Catherine had learnt she was pregnant, she had but one name in mind, just one. If this child proved to be a boy, an heir for Richard, a son for her, then there was only one name she would give, would ever give. A strong name, a good name, a name she prized beyond any other.

No matter how many times Richard and his Mother talked of names, mulling over various options, their ideas would never hold sway. Not for one moment.

For she knew what name she would bestow upon her precious boy, the sun of her earth.

And that name, was Henry.