~A Price we all Must Pay~

July 1469, nine months later....

"Ah, come to me, my boy" Catherine cooed, lifting Henry from Margery's arms and into her own. He grinned his happiness, bouncing excitedly in his Mother's embrace while she nuzzled into the softness of his neck that smelt sweeter than sugar to her.

At ten months old, he was a small, merry thing, ever gazing around him when he was not sleeping; eager hands reaching for whatever they could find. He had a particular interest in tugging upon his handler's hair and even then Catherine giggled when she felt one firm fist weave into her braid.

Henry shrieked with delight, gently tugging on the soft strands until his Mother wrapped his chubby fingers around one of her own, pressing a kiss to them. All around, the air was heavy with the scent of summer, the late rainfall unearthing a warmth in their air that smelt pleasantly of dirt; mingling with the flowers that lined the roadside.

Every so often a droplet of water or two would shower down upon them, shaken loose from leaves by a bird taking to the air or a shift in the breeze. When one such droplet landed on Henry's nose, he sneezed in surprise, discarding any interest his sleeve (which he'd been pulling towards his rosy mouth) to frown at the unfamiliar sensation.

"My dearest one" Catherine murmured, running a hand through his soft, wispy tuffs of flaxen hair, so like her own and rocking him gently back and forth. Despite the number of royal soldiers surrounding them, clad in polished armour and carrying swords at their sides, she felt undoubtedly at peace. Perhaps it was because of their presence that she felt so?

To know that her darling boy was safe gave her the greatest comfort on earth.

A rustling from behind made her turn, smile, as she saw the Queen emerge from the royal carriage beside them, carrying her newest babe in her arms.

Princess Cecily.

"Come along girls!" Elizabeth called, cradling the sleeping Princess against her chest, pulling her silk skirts gracefully behind her "We will never get there if we have to stop every five minutes!"

"Where's Father?" Lizzie's curious voice inquired as the little redhead emerged from the damp bushes, tugging Mary along by the hand while a nurse followed.

"I've told you, sweet girl!" Catherine laughed, throwing an indulgent smile her eldest niece "He's travelling his kingdom and we are riding to meet him!"
"With Uncle Dickon too?"

The two women laughed, herding the children back into the carriage while Lizzie looked imploringly up at her Aunt.
"Yes! Uncle Dickon too!"

The little Princess beamed her contentment, fixing her eyes on baby Henry once she was settled amongst the cushions covering the wooden carriage seats.
"I would like Baby please, Aunt" She said, little arms outstretched, and Catherine smiled chuckling at the way her son reached out to eagerly grasp the neck of Lizzie's silk gown.

He was a curious little thing, his parents found, as he began to explore more of the world surrounding him. He had a tendency to force whatever he held into his mouth, trying to bite down with his toothless gums while he searched for food, sucking intently until whatever he held was taken away. More than once Catherine had found her son clasping at her necklace, trying to work his lips around whichever pendant dangled from it.

'Nay, my love' She would tell him while Richard watched with an amused smile 'We do not suck on jewels'

Still, his hands reached eagerly for his cousin and his Mother could not help but smile, untangling his small body from the folds of her cloak.

"And baby would like you!" She replied, pressing a soft kiss to her son's head before passing him to the little Princess. Ensuring their nurse was safely by her nice to secure little Henry's safety, she looked to the Queen, frowning when she saw she'd wandered away from the carriage.

"Elizabeth?"

"Elizabeth!" A man's voice called and immediately the guards moved forth, armour clanking as they circled the carriage and the royals by it. Pikes pointed menacingly, they glared into the road, watching the three horses that approached with apparent suspicion.
"Father!" The Queen exclaimed, smiling when it became apparent the figures atop the steeds were her own Father and brothers "Catherine! Come and see!"

The young Duchess obeyed, waving her greeting to the approaching Woodvilles who nodded respectfully in return.

"Your grace" Earl Rivers called, prompting his two sons to do the same.
"My Lord Rivers, Anthony, John" Catherine replied, inclining her head to each of them while the Queen continued to smile beside her "What brings you here? We thought you were with the King!"

At that, the three men looked warily at one another and her smile dipped to a frown; eyes darting back to the carriage where her son sat giggling "What?" She asked "What has happened?"
"We are to ride with you" John answered gruffly "There is a rebellion, a Robin of Redesdale"

"That's a fanciful name for some petty rebel, brother!" Elizabeth replied with a laugh, only to earn a stern look from Anthony "Ned will stamp it all out in a heartbeat!"
"While the confidence in our King is endearing, someone is paying the men, Elizabeth! They have strong new boots and this is Warwick's country!"

Catherine sucked in a sharp breath, once more glancing back to ensure her son was well within her sights. Even the very name of the man she hated most sent a chill down her spine and her eyes darted warily amongst the trees, searching for his ever lingering shadow. It had always followed her and now she could feel the cold of its icy clutch seeping into her veins.

Again, Elizabeth only laughed, almost throwing the news aside with one wave of her bejewelled hand.
"Warwick?" She repeated "What threat is Warwick to us now?"

"This is no joke, Elizabeth!" John snapped, forcing the Queen to sober somewhat while a knot of nerves tied themselves tightly into the pit of Catherine's stomach. "It is certain. There are thousands of men at arms under Warwick's orders"

She sighed, shaking her head and turning to the Queen who's smile had by now faded, along with the rosy colour of her cheeks. The two friends glanced at one another, the younger of the two biting her lower lip as she swept her heavy skirts aside, striding back to the carriage.

"He's Kingmaking again" She muttered under her breath.

And God help them all if she was right.

꧁꧂

Tamworth Castle....

When the royal party came to a halt in the courtyard of Tamworth Castle, there was little even God could do to prevent Catherine leaping from the carriage. While the Queen had tried to sweep away the threat of rebellion with airy words and mindless jokes, the Duchess had remained silent; stoic.

Polished fingernails tapping along the rim of the carriage window, she'd stared blankly out into the countryside, her free hand placed safely in her son's. The ferocity of the protectiveness she felt for him was stronger than any other.

Like a lioness protecting her cub, she would keep him safe, baring her teeth at any hyenas who would seek to take him from her.

Warwick was a hyena, of that she was sure, only before he had been masquerading as a lion, loyal to the pride which he was in fact about to tear apart. Who else joined him in betrayal, she wondered, for she knew he was astute enough not to attempt such a feat on his own.

The sight of the blue and murrey pennants that hung from the castle walls was one of pure relief to her. Edward's personal Sunne in Splendour shone regally upon the material and she quickly crossed herself, thanking the Lord for their safe arrival while quickly submitting a prayer that Warwick would be vanquished.

It was nothing short of strange to wish for the victory of a York, she thought as she gathered her skirts around her, pushing open the carriage door, but times of war called for measures one would not usually take and she was eager for the knot in her stomach to settle.

"Bring my son!" She called over her shoulder when her feet landed upon the gravel below and she tried not to run towards the castle doors from which Edward emerged. Darting past the King, she bobbed a small curtsy, smiling at Elizabeth's two golden Grey sons before she ascended the steep steps. They were nice boys, a little smug at times but nice all the same. After all, how many could boast a King as their stepfather?

From the great hall, a flash of white linen appeared before her eyes and Catherine gasped as two strong arms wrapped around her, warm lips pressing insistently against her own. The soft scent of lavender and leather assailed her nose and her body instantly relaxed, giving herself over to the man that held her.

Richard.

"I was coming to meet you, ma belle" He told her quickly, pulling away only for a brief moment to study her face before kissing her again, pressing her soft body against his own "By God, Cate, our world is falling apart....Warwick and...." His voice was deep, desperate, almost despondent and Catherine held him close, carding a hand through his soft curls.

She would never let him go, not then, not ever, she swore. At sixteen she knew the world considered him a warrior worthy for the battlefield but he would not join his brother in war, he would stay with her and together they would keep their son safe. She would not see him fight, her heart could not bear it if he were wounded or perhaps even....

"I'm here now, my love" She whispered "I am here"

"It's been three days" Richard murmured, drawing back to look at her and cradling one cheek beneath one calloused palm "Three days is far too long to be parted" Catherine smiled, gently brushing her lips against his once again while her keen fingers sought the warmth of his body beneath his shirt.

Throughout the course of their marriage, they had never been truly separated for more than a day, always longing for one another's company above any other. Now, upon royal progress, that had changed, forcing them to follow the King and Queen they served instead of one another, leading to many sleepless nights in cold beds where no blaze from the fire could warm their bones.

The only advantage to such separation was the passion it gave to their reunions. The royal court had been on progress for little over a month by July and Catherine could only shiver with delight when she thought of the euphoric nights that followed the shining days when she and her husband were no longer parted. Had she not been so worried, she would have hoped for such pleasure there and then!

"Your grace?"

Richard looked up, his eyes filling with adoration when he saw the little boy propped up happily in Margery's arms, reaching eagerly for his Father.

"My boy"
Henry gurgled as Richard swept him into his arms, cradling the baby close and kissing the dusting of downy hair resting on his head "My little knight" Tiny fingers latched onto dark curls, firmly tugging while a button nose nuzzled fondly into his neck "I will never let any soul hurt you, I swear it"

"Neither of us will" Catherine said softly, raising herself up onto the tips of her toes to place a tender kiss to Richard's cheek just as their York King stormed into the castle.

He had chosen his stunning sigil well, she thought, for at that moment his rage seemed to burn hotter than the very sun, turning his handsome face an angry red.

One hand placed on the hilt of his dagger, his usually kind mouth was twisted into a snarl, one that spat poisonous words, each more vengeful than the last. Ignoring the small family by the stairwell, he gasped onto the iron rail, tearing up the stone steps with thunder in his feet, pounding resentment into the earth beneath.

The Queen followed and Richard passed Henry back to Margery, taking his wife's hand before making to follow his yelling brother.
"And now I hear George has married Isabel against my clear command!" He roared, not noticing Catherine's small gasp nor the agonised look his little brother gave her.

"I was going to tell you" He murmured, gently pulling her along to keep up with him "but then I saw Henry"
Catherine only shook her head.
"George? A traitor?"
"George" He repeated steadily and she groaned, feeling her stomach lurch within her.

So she had been right not to trust him as a child, her mind said, though precious little that realisation would do her now! A fool he was, a greedy fool as easily led as a donkey was led by a carrot on a stick!

Clearly Isabel had been propositioned as said carrot and Catherine could not help but feel a twinge of pity for the haughty Neville girl. It was a cruel thing to be used as a piece in others dangerous games and the young Duchess knew well the feeling it inflicted. Did Isabel even know she was being played?

"I knew Warwick was angry but never did I imagine he would raise his own army against me!" Edward continued, throwing open the door to his study and striding inside "With George, my own brother at his side! God damn them both!"

Ushering his kin inside, he slammed the heavy oak shut, bolting it securely before turning to a table strewn with discarded papers "At the battle of Mortimer's cross there were three sons in the sky!" He cried "Three sons! Everyone said it was a sign from God for me, George and Richard, the three sons of York so how can one brother betray the others?"

Eyes blazing he looked around, searching for souls that were not there "And who else betrays us?" He demanded "Our Mother supports me in London but my cousin John is not here? Does he stand with his brother? Is Georgie loyal? Am I to have every Neville in England raise his sword against me? Against their King?"

"I cannot believe that!" Catherine snapped, despite herself, causing the King's ice blue eyes to flick dangerously to hers "Georgie will be here and so will John. I cannot believe them disloyal to you as Warwick is....or at least not Georgie. He will be here, you'll see" Richard nodded his agreement, squeezing the hand in his with surety. Edward merely glowered, betrayal burning hot through his veins.

With an angry yell, he slammed his calloused fists against the table, making Elizabeth jump as she shook her head in stunned disbelief. Gone were her nonchalant laughs of the afternoon, gone were her dismissive waves. Now her eyes were filled with danger and her sharpened claws were ready to strike, Catherine could see.

"No....they wouldn't dare!"

Edward scoffed, his piercing gaze glaring at the papers beneath him so fiercely, they could have sprung into smoking flames at any moment, reduced to ashes as he was determined to see his enemies be.

"We will scotch this snakes nest before it comes out of the ground" He hissed quietly, glancing up to where the three Woodville men, who had escorted the Queen, stood, each with stony looks upon their faces "And woe betide any who try to stand in our way"

꧁꧂

The Duchess of Gloucester groaned as her back collided with the bed post, her husband's eager lips descending on hers with a passion she more than readily responded too.

"It's been too long" Richard groaned, opening her robe with deft fingers to reveal her soft body to him.
"It has been but three nights my love" Catherine replied shrugging the velvet from her shoulders and letting a moan slip past her lips as he pressed himself their bodies together, already hard against her thigh. She grinned, tugging his shirt from his breeches and lifting the warm linen over his head.

"Three nights" He groaned, gasping at the feeling of one delicate hand trailing down his strong chest "Is far too long, ma belle" Hooking his hands under her thighs, he tossed her easily onto the bed, kicking away his breeches before he joined her. Pressing her lithe body against his muscled one, she smirked at his groan, tangling her hands in his hair and coaxing his lips to hers.

Slipping his tongue into her mouth, she spread her legs for him, letting him fit their hips while one hand glided down between them. Her hips jolted upwards as his fingers brushed against her centre and she moaned into his mouth; eyes fluttering shut. He was been right, three nights had been too long.

Soon his lips descended, trailing across her jaw and down her chest to one rosy nipple which he took between his teeth. Tugging and sucking, he relished her moans of delight, gently sinking one long finger into her while she clutched at him like she would a piece of driftwood at sea.

"Christ" She breathed when he added a second, thrusting them in and out of her, crooking them in a way that made her back arch from the covers. Adding a second, he could not help but smirk at the cry that emerged from her lips. His name. A plea for him, for him to be inside her and he was more than willing to comply, knowing that if he was not within her warmth soon he would finish there and then.

Hooking one of her trembling legs around his waist, he thrust into her, burying his face against her neck as his breath stuttered. Again, Catherine cried out, the hot pleasure burning through her veins almost blinding her to reality in a way nothing else ever could "Dickon" She pleaded rocking her hips beneath him in an effort to gain any friction only to find him withdraw before thrusting hard back into her.

Her hands found purchase in his hair as he began to move within her at an almost unholy pace, causing her to pull harshly on the dark curls; eliciting a groan from him. They moved together as one, lost in their own world of pleasure while their lips pressed messily together, seeking further pleasure; the hot satisfaction that coiled in their bellies.

Reaching forward, Richard grasped the headboard as Catherine clenched hard around him, arching against the covers again as she grew closer and closer to the peak of pleasure. She knew he was close too and her hips canted, causing his thrusts to quicken even more until he suddenly stilled; crying out her name as he spilled inside of her. The hot rush and the sound of her blessed name on his lips pulled her over into bliss with him and her eyes fluttered shut as pleasure pulsed through her body.

Neither made to move for a moment and Catherine's fingers once more wove into her husband's dark hair, holding him tenderly against her body before he placed a kiss to her lips; finally rolling to the side.

His chest heaved, as did hers, discarding it's usual steady rise and fall while his eyes blew wide with the afterglow of pleasure. The canopy above him almost swirled, the colourful fabric dancing back and forth, blood pumping hotly through his veins. Catherine cuddled close, laying her head sweetly on his chest while she too tried to regain some remanence of reality from her lust-clouded mind.

Here, within the warmth of his arms, she knew there was no other place she would rather be and shivered at the thought that soon he would be clad in cold armour, transformed from the man she knew to the warrior all around expected him to become, to be.

"Are you cold, my love?"

The delicious warmth of his deep voice ran through her, mingling with the thrum of satisfaction in her belly. Shaking her head, she snuggled further into him and placed a tender kiss to his neck, feeling the racing pulse beneath his skin.

"I don't want you to go" She whispered softly, hardly daring to let the dreaded words pass her lips "I don't want you to fight"

A heavy sigh sounded in the air and Richard slowly turned onto his side, propping himself up on the rumpled pillows to gaze down at Catherine's flushed face. Though her expression appeared one of dazed contentment, it was easy for him to see the fear that seeped into her eyes, reflecting her very soul and the darkest corners of her mind.

It was only natural that she did not want him to fight, how could she when the shadow of death loomed over he and his brother like the blackest cloud on a stormy day, threatening that lightning would strike. She had Henry too, their little knight, the little sun with which her world revolved around, as did his. She wanted him to grow knowing both his Mother and Father as neither of them had had the chance too and he felt the same, although, he could not deny he wanted to fight.

He wanted to fight and he wanted to win.

This was what he had been raised for, trained for. The hours of sweat and blood, of stinging wounds that left pale marks on his flesh had all been a prelude to such a moment as this. A moment where he could finally mirror the knight of old and prove his undying loyalty to his elder brother. His King.

He had to fight, there was no other way.

While their son was the reason Catherine yearned for him to stay, little Henry was the reason why he knew he must go. His darling boy was helpless, a babe who could no more wield a sword than he could lift a fork to his mouth! He would defend him, and his wife, he would help lead Edward to victory and secure the safety of his little family, a family he hoped to one day expand, he thought, brushing one hand against Catherine's stomach.

"Why is love inclined to hurt so?" He murmured, letting his fingers absentmindedly dance across her skin, circling the golden curls lying against it. "Warwick was my mentor, the man who raised me.... George is my brother, my own flesh and blood, Cate, and now....now I must face them across a battlefield, I...."

One finger gently pressed against his lips and Catherine's light eyes found his: trusting, loving. There was nothing they could not say to the other and he knew she felt no anger when he spoke of Warwick in such a way. She understood, knowing of the resentment he held towards the man but also the love still kept for him in the part of his heart forged during the naive years of his childhood.

A part that was still there.

"Love is the joy of life but also the end of it" She murmured softly "it enthrals our hearts, binds our souls but....to love we must also hurt. In allowing others to love us we also allow them to hurt us" Tilting up her head, she pressed a gentle kiss to his lips. Not one of passion or desire, simply a firm reassurance "It is a price we all must pay"