~Light of my Life~

Catherine and Richard's fourteenth birthdays came and went as the summer sun froze into winter ice but still, their hearts remained warm. The new union between the Duke and his Duchess sprung from a flame into a spark and burned bright between them throughout the cold, long months.

Once more, they shared chambers, talking deep into the night before they settled contently into one another's arms. Catherine's joy could hardly be contained and she moved around Middleham with a new spring in her step; a new lightness to her voice. She joined the squires in the tiltyard again, watching from behind the fence while Richard trained with Rob and Francis.

There seemed to be a new strength to him now he had her support. He swung his sword with a new vigour, a new determination that summoned a grin to his face and made Catherine's heart set alight with love. Love it was still a strange notion for her but there was no other word she could use to describe the fluttering in her chest and stomach when she saw her husband. It felt like her heart had grown wings and taken flight; was soaring above the clouds where no sadness nor torment could touch her.

And he loved her too, of that she was sure, for he told her so every night as they drifted off to sleep. He'd hold her close, often undoing the braid Margery had plaited for the night as he liked her hair loose.

"I love you, sweet Cate" He would say and she'd smile, gently pressing her lips to his before drifting away happily in his arms. 'Sweet Cate' was just one of the new endearments her husband had devised for over the summer, her name becoming an every varying term of affection. 'Sweetheart' seemed to be his favourite and it was one of hers too, although she decided nothing could compare to 'ma belle', a name he often called her in an evening when they sat by the fire and all was calm.

They were so young to love and yet it did not feel a fantasy, a youthful dream conjured out of curiosity and immaturity, no, it felt true. Their hearts fit together like two halves of the same whole and both were sure there could be naught wrong with that! There could be no falseness in their adoration!

Agnes had always told her that when she truly loved she would know and Catherine was sure she knew, so very sure! 'Find one that shall love you more than the stars, more than the moon' She'd said and the boy who would do just that had been found. Rather unintentionally but found all the same.

Wherever Richard went, Catherine went too and soon it was unusual to see them apart at any time of day. They ate together, prayed together, slept together and often left the castle together, taking food in their saddle bags while they rode up into the hills.

There, Catherine would sit beneath the great oak tree while Richard swung from its branches, trying in vain to straighten his back. She would watch him with sympathy in her eyes, wishing with all she had that she could take his pain away with one sweep of her hand. God only knew how many nights he had spent since his confession weeping within her arms and she wept too, holding him close and whispering comforts into his ear.

With no hope of help from physicians, the only thing she could do was support him and did so, staying with him every moment. When he jumped down from his tree, she would sit beside him, offering him apples and strawberries and whatever other food they had brought. In warm weather they would often stay out on the hills all day, feasting and riding around the fields until the sky turned dark, forcing them to return to the castle.

As the months drifted away from summer, to autumn, to a cold winter with wind that stung the skin, the two stayed at Middleham more often. The leaves on the trees turned from their healthy green to orange and brown, covering the floor and crunching beneath the feet of those who stood on them.

Catherine sat in the tiltyard, watching Richard train before the rain or snow began to hammer down upon them and they would hurry inside. Christmas approached on swift wings and bows of holly began to appear in the halls, their red berries glimmering in the corridor torchlight at dusk. The nights became longer, the days shorter and even the sun was cold when it was released from behind the clouds.

Warwick returned with his family in late November but Catherine found she did not care and it gave her joy to admit so! How could she care when she had her love, her Richard to protect her, to stand by her? He hardly ever left her side and she was confident in his affection as he was in hers.

She was happy, truly happy. She felt whole at last, a completed puzzled that had long had a piece missing. Never had she imagined Richard would be that piece. But he was and she loved him for it. She loved him.

꧁꧂

Christmas Day 1466....

Flakes of snow floated down from the heavens, each individual fleck of delicate ice, a piece of beauty in the picture of the world. The hills were dusted with white, like icing sugar on a cake and a cool breeze slipped through doors and windows, stirring curtains and the dogs that slept by the great hall fire, their ears twitching; tails sweeping the carpet below.

Above, in a warm chamber, it's fire blazing in the large hearth, lay the teenage Duke and Duchess of Gloucester, wrapped snugly in their bed of silk and furs. Heavy tapestries hung on the walls and the air smelt pleasantly of rosemary, courtesy of the incense Margery had burnt the night before. Two empty goblets lay to the side of the bed, still painted with the spiced wine the two sleeping nobles had drunk.

Even as the morning light slipped through the cracks in the chamber shutters, they slept, Catherine's head on Richard's chest, her hair spread out like a golden halo around them. His arm lay securely around her waist, binding them together during the dark hours of the night and keeping them there until morning.

Catherine breathed easily, a small smile on her face that confirmed she was at peace. She felt safe with Richard's warm body against hers and even when she began to stir, she did not want to wake. She wanted to stay cocooned in the world of warmth she possessed and sighed contently into the morning, letting her head loll to one side.

A few moments later, she heard a rustling beside her, a gentle groan and felt movement on the pillow she shared with her husband. Calloused fingers brushed her neck, gently pushing away the hair that covered it before a pair of soft lips landed on her skin.

Her smile widened. Richard had grown to love waking her like this, with his gentle touch and coaxing and she found she liked it too, the exciting sensations that would rush through her body. The hand on her waist began to caress her hip and Catherine smiled, allowing her husband's lips to travel to her jaw before she opened her eyes to see his mess of tousled curls.

"Is this my Christmas gift, Dickon?"

She felt Richard smile against her and he looked up, pressing a gentle kiss to her lips which she hummed into "Or that perhaps?" She teased.
"You know it's not, ma belle"
"Well I would not object if it was!"

Pushing herself up to stretch her arms, Catherine settled herself back against the pillows, watching with a smile as Richard rose from the bed. He strode over to the window, pulling back the shutters and groaning when the winter light struck his eyes. Hearing his wife giggled behind him, he leant against the wall, openly eyeing her with adoration "You make fun of your Lord husband, my Lady?"

"Oh no!" She replied with a grin, pulling back the covers to join him at the window "I could never make fun of you, Dickon!" His deep chuckle answered her and he caught her by the waist, pulling her against his chest while she watched the snow fall. She had always found it beautiful and she always would, how each flake was one of individual beauty, made by God and sent into earth to be gazed upon.

Looking beyond the falling sheet of white, she gazed at the hills, the world that lay outside of the castle walls.
"What will they think?" She murmured and Richard frowned, about to press another kiss to her neck.
"Of what, sweetheart?"

"Of our love" She replied, leaning back against him to relishing the warmth of his embrace. What would the court think of that embrace? What would their families think of that embrace, of their kisses and secret smiles shared across the dinner table in an evening? Margaret of Anjou would surely scream "You are of York and I am of Lancaster....what will they think of our union?"

"Why should they think anything?"

Catherine smiled to herself.

"Because the courtiers of England love to do so" She said dryly "they love to think and they love to judge. We are both growing older, you and I and once you reach the end of your training with Warwick we will be expected to be at court more" Richard sighed and could not help but agree.

Catherine was right, while they were both young, in the eyes of the world, they were all but a man and woman and soon Edward would give him duties to carry out. Those duties would lay heavy on his heart and his mind....but where would that leave his love for Cate? Sweet, beautiful Cate who stirred his heart and heated his blood each time he looked at her.

He was favoured by his brother and that was good, yes, but it also meant that his duties would be long, extensive and leave hardly any time in the day for freedom! Perhaps he would ask Edward to lessen the intended tasks until he was older but still, that was not what worried his wife. What worried his wife was what people would think of them, a Yorkist and a Lancastrian, far beyond terms of civil peace.

He sighed again and bent down to kiss her neck, brushing his lips against her skin while she intertwined their fingers.

"Our love....our love is not of York or Lancaster" He murmured "It is of Catherine and Richard. Just us, sweetheart. If people wish to talk, let them talk. If they do they shall turn us into a great love story! Like King Arthur and Guinevere!" He was pleased to hear her laugh at his suggestion and she turned in his arms, peering upwards with a mixture of amusement and love in her eyes.

"Or they shall paint I as a seductress who has brought you under my spell!" With another smile, she tilted up her head, capturing his lips in a soft, slow kiss Richard all but melted into. He had to admit, while she'd been inexperienced when he first kissed her, she was a fast learner and soon mastered the art of such affection, marking him feel as if he were almost drowning in her love.

If the court were to think her a seductress, he was not sure he would disagree!

But now was not the time for her antics (however much he wanted them) and he rejoiced in her surprised squeal as he picked her up and carried her ably back to the bed; throwing her onto the covers.
"You must be careful with your back!" She chided but he merely rolled his eyes "I will not have you in any more pain!"

"Tis Christmas Day!" He declared "And you shall have your gifts!" Dipping beneath the bed, he returned with his hands clasped behind his back, a mischievous gleam in his eye "turn around, sweetheart!"

Catherine obeyed, smiling as she turned her back to him and closed her eyes, excitement bubbling within her. Feeling the mattress dip behind, she giggled, a giggle that turned into a gasp when cold metal met warm skin. Her eyes flew open as Richard fastened the necklace around her neck, hooking the delicate clasp through a loop of gold before he allowed her to look down.

Hearing her gasp of awe, he knew he'd done well and could tell her eyes were wide with surprise. They were, and her mouth formed a perfect O as she took hold of the diamond shaped pendant resting against her nightgown. Made from solid gold, the precious metal shone, complimented by the pearls adorning the smooth edges. Christ's crucifixion lay engraved in the centre and a large sapphire was set above it surrounded by a ring of gold, twisted like rope.

It was beautiful.

"Oh, Richard" She breathed, running a finger along the delicate words carved into the metal around the biblical scene "loyaulte me lie" She read "Your motto, my love" Richard nodded, shuffling forward so he was beside her, taking the diamond shaped pendant in the palm of his hand.

"Yes, sweetheart and, see" One finger pointed to the side opposite his motto, brushing the gold "This side is clear of engraving. I thought that...." His eyes flicked to hers, a delicate affection within their blue depths. "Once you selected your own motto we could have it engraved there and then it shall be with mine. Together as we are"

"Together as we are" Catherine repeated dreamily, the soft howl of the winter wind against her bedroom window making her look up; remember her gift for him "Oh!" She exclaimed, clambering across the covers and reaching beneath them to retrieve a small circular box, its lid painted in bright blues and greens; a white boar at the centre "Open it!" She urged as her husband took the box in hand and lifted the lid, his eyes widening at the gift inside.

Upon a circular canvas, set into the darkened wood, was painted a woman, a girl, her golden hair loose and flowing down to her waist in the perfect curls of an angel. She wore a dress of fine blue silk, a broach of sapphires and diamonds adorning the top of her bodice. Behind her lay fields of green and wildflowers, the hills of Wensleydale he so adored and in one hand, raised from her skirt where the other lay, she held two flowers.

One red, one white.

The roses of York and Lancaster.

"It's you" He murmured with a smile and Catherine nodded, a red blush rising to her cheeks.
"I have other gifts, velvets for new doublet and such but...." Now it was her turn to smile "I thought you might like to have this. I have my brooch to remind me of you, now you have a portrait to remind you of me!"

Richard looked up at her, a light laugh leaving his lips as he put a hand to her rosy cheek, holding up the small portrait beside her.
"It looks just like you" He said, slowly leaning in to brush a gentle kiss to her soft lips "Who painted it?"

"Francis!" She giggled at the look of surprise on her husband's face, nodding. That past summer, whenever Rob and Richard had taken to hunting amongst the trees, she and Francis had stolen away to the fields surrounding the castle. The young boy proved to be a promising artist and was attentive to his work, wearing a look of deep concentration on his face while he painted the small canvas "He's a promising young talent" She continued while Richard stared at the small FL drawn in the painting's corner.

"I can see that" He murmured softly, replacing the lid before he leant forward to kiss her again. Catherine smiled, instantly able to see the want that lit his eyes as he pushed her back to the pillows, leaning over her with a small smirk on his face "I shall treasure it, sweetheart, just as I treasure you, but now...."

"Now?" She prompted, cupping his face.
"Now I want to kiss you for while the portrait may be beautiful, naught can compare to the original"

꧁꧂

April 1467, the woods of Middleham....

Male laughter rang throughout the air as three fine stallions sped through the trees, each trying to be faster than the other. Three boys sat atop them, their cloaks long gone, as were their velvet caps, letting the wind blow through their hair while they leapt over stumps and wound through undergrowth.

Despite the cold, they did not shiver, they couldn't, not with the heat of a good ride running through their veins. The other squires were similarly about the forest, racing one another into fits of laugher and roars of praise from their friends.

"I'm going to beat you!" Rob called from ahead, his voice mocking but with an edge of jest that made the other two laugh.

"Not if I have anything to do with it!" Richard yelled, urging his horse faster until he could overtake his friend with a teasing wave. Rob scoffed, shaking his head and glancing over his shoulder to where Francis was close behind, kicking his horse into a gallop.

"One day I'll fly past you like a bird!" The younger boy yelled, much to his companions amusement.

"Not with your riding skills you won't!" Rob called back, quickly steering his stallion to avoid a collision with a tree "I spend half my time wondering when you're going to fly face first into a pond!"
"Well at least when we're hunting I can hit something other than trees and two rabbits you could only get because they were fucking!"

Richard roared with laughter, slowing his horse to a halt in a clearing so he could rock back and forth in his north without fear of falling.
"Jesus Christ, Francis!" He cried, while his friends, his brothers, reigned in around him, one blazing an embarrassed red while the other grinned, pleased with himself.

"Where are the girls?" Rob asked, eager to divert the subject from his failures at their most treasured sport.
"Behind" Francis simply answered "probably talking of a dress or some such! Catherine has fine taste!"

"That she does! And, speaking of our dear Cat" Rob smirked, steering his horse next to Richard's and wiggling his dark eyebrows "have you bedded her yet?"
"Rob!" Francis exclaimed while Richard's jaw dropped, his entire face flushing.
"What? It's a good question!"

"Not yet" He murmured and Rob sighed.
"But you want to? I already know you dream about her!"

"Yes I want to!" Richard snapped, feeling his breeches tighten uncomfortably at the mere thought his friend was presenting. He did dream about Catherine, day and night. When at training, it was her face he saw instead of his opponents, a factor that proved most inconvenient, especially when it lead to his defeat.

He dreamt of her almost every night and, having her lithe body pressed against his when they slept certainly did not serve to help matters. She shifted when she grew too hot or too cold, unintentionally rubbing herself against him in a way that would make him wake with his cock hard and his fingers aching to touch her. To delve beneath the layers of her nightgown.

"Do you even know how?"

Francis groaned, turning as red as Richard for a moment while he stared awkwardly at the ground. As he grew older, Rob and the other boys were forever talking of sex and to his young, inexperienced ears it was nothing less than a torture! He knew nothing of lust, at least he didn't used to, let alone feel it!

"I'm not sure I want to here this!" He said and Rob laughed, throwing him a taunting look.
"Well then go home if you are too much of a baby!"

"I'm not a baby!" Francis protested stoutly, squaring his shoulders to try and accentuate his height, even on horseback. While he was the youngest of the squires, he still hated to be thought of as a child, more so to be treated like one "I will be thirteen in a month!" Tilting up his chin, he glared at his friend who scoffed, letting his horse graze on a nearby patch of grass.

"And I seventeen in two!" He replied, stretching his arms about him before his familiar smirk returned to his lips "Now, back to what's important" He continued, looking to an ever blushing Richard "you do know how to bed a girl, don't you?"

"Of course I do!" The young Duke sighed, his body burning beneath his clothes and his thoughts filled of all but his wife "With Edward's descriptive letters on how to please Cate and your tales, how could I not?"
"Ah yes" Francis groaned again "Rob's entertaining nighttime tales he just loves to share with all of us!"

Rob snorted, evidently pleased with himself.
"I'm simply trying to help! But you will bed her won't you?" He asked smugly, once more looking at Richard "Most of us have already made our first conquests!"

"Of course I will!" The young Duke answered, again shifting in his saddle "I want to more than anything if I am truly honest....I just want to be sure I please her, tis all! For her, of course, but Ned says that a woman must feel pleasure in the marriage bed to conceive a son" Francis raised his eyebrows, trying to distract himself with a squirrel burrowing in the leaves around.

"Have you seen her tits yet?"
"Robert!" He cried, making the older boy laugh while he took a hearty swig of the wine he kept at his belt.

"Alright, alright!" He conceded, hearing the distinct chatter of women approaching, a sign his curious inquiry must come to an end "Really I'm only a messenger from our other brothers. Catherine has grown beautiful, Dickon and the others have noticed!
How could they not? By God, by the time she reaches fifteen you'll have to beat them off with a stick!"

Richard glared at him, forcing his lips to turn up into a smile as Catherine emerged from between the thicket of trees, faithful Margery at her side. It was clear to all how beautiful the Duchess was, how desirable she had become but the knowledge that she was wanted by others, others he knew, set his blood boiling. Cate was his and only his! His fists clenched with something he had never before so strongly felt: jealousy.

"Ah, sweetheart!" He called, feeling his heart quicken at the sight of her smile, one reserved for him and him alone "We were just speaking of you!"
"All good things I hope?" She chuckled, reigning in beside the group.

"What else would be said, dear cousin?" Rob returned, sweeping a bow in his saddle.