~The First to Fly~

March 1483, Westminster Palace....

The great hall of Westminster was alight with music and merriment, laughter dancing through the air like the brightly dressed couples before the royal dais. Acrobats tumbled around the room and stood atop one another's shoulders, building human towers they jumped and juggled fiery batons from. The trestle tables lining the walls were laden bywith food, not a single souls didn't bear a smile, wine flowed freely and, at the centre of it all, was the Princess Marie of York.

In a dazzling gown of cloth of gold, her hair loose and adorned by a crown, she spun across the floor with her ladies, giggling and chattering to her heart's content. Her parents watched her glowing with pride, the court with affection and awe. She was truly perfect.

She and her ladies held hands, dancing in a circle of silk and satin, smiling at each other, enjoying their last moments at the English court. Soon they would all be on a ship to Burgundy (Marie having convinced her Father to allow all of her ladies to accompany her abroad), a new adventure as Cecily called it or a terrifying prospect as it had been christened by Anne. Still, she would not leave her Princess- none of them would.

"Dance with us!" Marie giggled, pulling Isabella into her circle of friends as she passed by, drawing a startled cry from the ten year old before she began to laugh. By the time it was her eleventh birthday, her elder sister would be in Burgundy so, even though it was Marie's farewell ball, and of course she would give her sister a present before, she saw no reason why not to give Isabella a treat!

Their parents watched on proudly, dressed in cloth of gold just like their eldest with their crowns atop their head: beaming. She wished her Grandmother were there, she wouldn't be able to say goodbye to her, she wished Neddy and her Uncle Dickon were present too. She'd said goodbye to them at Christmas but her marriage, her future, hadn't seemed as final as it did now.

A sudden weight appeared on her heart and she drew in a sharp breath, drawing away from the circle, bringing her hands to her bodice.
"Sister? Are you well?" Isabella asked and Marie forced a smile, nodding.
"Yes, Issy, I simply need some air is all, the hall is quite....hot...."

Before her ladies or sister could say another word, she turned on her heels and began to make her way through the swirling crowd of courtiers, trying to acknowledge every bow and curtsy with her usual distinguished grace and hoping she succeeded.

When she burst from the great hall, the cool of the corridor washed over her like an ocean of relief and she walked quickly, pressing her back against the stone wall as soon as she turned a corner. Something dripped onto her cheek and a few moments later slipped into her mouth, the salty taste of tears pooling on her tongue. She reached up a hand, wiping her eyes.

She knew she was a woman grown, that she was a Princess ready for marriage but, at that moment, she didn't feel ready, nor did she feel grown.She felt like a child small and scared and unprepared to do what was asked of her. She was seventeen and a few years ago that would've seemed the most grown up in the world to her but now....she still felt young, too young.

She didn't want to leave England, she didn't want to leave her Mother and Father and everything she'd ever known. She didn't want to travel across the sea to marry a man she'd never met, to live in a court where the people and the customs were strange. Why couldn't she stay with her own household in the beautiful halls of Berkeley Castle, hosting her parents and travelling to Middleham to visit Neddy and Dickon?

Why couldn't she stay her Mother's little love forever?

Would she ever see her again?

"So, sister, you are to be married to the Holy Roman Empire?"

Her head jolted up to see her eldest half brother standing just a few feet away, dressed in green velvet and white silk, his shoes fashionably pointed like all the other noblemen's were. A white rose made of diamonds was pinned to his chest and he was watching her with his piercing eyes. He looked exactly like their Father with blonde curls reaching his shoulders and blue eyes, but they were colder like his Mother's, scrutinising her instead of comforting; mocking her.

How much of her silent panic had he seen? Did he follow her from the hall? She hadn't expected to see him that night. As he'd grown he'd begun to attend court more frequently, it was true, and she sometimes saw him but she didn't think he'd be at her farewell ball!

Marie sniffed, pushing her shoulders back and wiping her cheeks free of tears.
"If you think yourself my brother, you are a fool" Arthur scoffed, shaking his head.
"I know you've never thought yourself my sister. The only time you ever smiled at me was that Christmas on the Thames"
"As I recall that was also the only time you ever smiled at me" She bit back but Arthur only shrugged, humming.

"I wonder how you shall fare, away from your family, your friends, all you have ever known. I wonder if you will be missed? You are just a girl" Marie felt her fingers curl into fists, tears threatening to fill her eyes again as her half brother preyed on her thoughts like he could read her mind. Perhaps he could, his Mother was a witch after all. But she was more powerful than he could ever be. She was not 'just a girl' she was the daughter of the greatest King and Queen England had ever known, a white rose of York, a warrior. He was nothing, a creature sprung from lust.

"Just a girl?" She spat "Oh well my apologies for my sex that offends you so! Perhaps you point it out because you and I know I will be a great deal more missed than you and your scheming bitch of a Mother could ever be" Her arrow struck true and she could see the anger flash Arthur's eyes, his hand snapped to his dagger. She smirked.

"Yes, go on, sir, draw your blade. Let us see what happens when a Woodville bastard harms the King's daughter. La perle de son monde" She tilted her head "Do you even know what that means?"
"The pearl of his world" Arthur huffed and her smirk broadened.
"Hm, you're not as incompetent as your Woodville looks make you appear. Yes, I am the pearl of his world. You would do well to remember that, little brother"

"Marie?" The voice of her Mother made them both turn and, taking a breath, she stepped out into the main hallway again to see her Mother walking towards her, a smile spreading across her face when she saw her daughter "Little love you are missing the Moresca and your Lord Father ordered it just for you!" She exclaimed before catching sight of the man still lurking in the shadows. She tilted her chin up "Ah....Lord Salisbury. You look well"

Arthur stepped forward into the light, inclining his head and bowing to her.
"Thank you, your grace"
Constance nodded and Marie looped her arm through hers.

"Lord Salisbury was just leaving, Mother!" She said, pulling her back towards the hall "Come, the Moresca is my favourite and if I do remember correctly I promised my hand to Will!" Constance went willingly and Marie didn't look back, leaving Arthur to stare after them. Perhaps she should've invited Arthur with them, included him in the celebrations but he wasn't her family and, in her mind, if he wished to be he'd never tried.

༻᯽༺

15th of March 1482, Dover Castle....

Constance held her breath, one hand wrapped around her necklace, the other wrapped around her waist as she stared out of the window of Marie's bedchamber. Before her, beneath the great white cliffs upon which the castle stood, stretched the channel, its waters calm yet dark and, bobbing atop them, a ship flying the flag of England. The ship come to take her daughter away.

Behind, Marie was being readied by her ladies, dressed in a beautiful gown of deep purple velvet with cloth of gold brocade, the slashed sleeves (a fashion James had brought back from Italy and she'd taken an immense liking to) encrusted with pearls.

Her hair was loose, brushed till it shone, and she wore the crown, earrings and bejewelled collar her Mother had given her and her sisters seven years ago. Of course, she now had many similar collections commissioned by herself over the years but she was adamant she would wear the one her Mother had made when she docked in Burgundy.

A cloth of gold cloak, trimmed with ermine was placed on her shoulders and fastened with a gold chain while rings were placed on her fingers and cloth of gold shoes slipped onto her feet.

"Ma Mère?"

Constance turned to find her daughter staring at her, fully prepared for her journey; gloriously beautiful. She sighed, smiling.
"You look beautiful, my dearest love....so very perfect" She glanced at her daughter's ladies "Leave us" She commanded and they all curtsied "I wish to speak alone with the Princess"

Marie smiled and Constance held out a hand, squeezing when it was taken and they sat down on the soft covers of her bed together. The door clicked shut and Constance sighed again "Is there anything you wish to ask me, Marie? Anything you wish to know? I presume Lady Alice took the liberty of explaining your wedding night to you?" Marie blushed and nodded, bravely holding her Mother's gaze.

"She did but...." She hesitated "she did not say if it would hurt and....I only imagine it can...." Constance squeezed her hand again, a mix of pride and pain in her chest as she was once more reminded of how grown up her little love was.
"I will tell you what your Aunt Isabella told me on my wedding night" She said softly, taking her daughter's other hand in hers "Ça fait un peu mal, au début, mais ensuite c'est assez agréable" 'It hurts a little, at first, but then it feels quite nice'

Marie's eyes widened with surprise and it took all Constance had not to laugh "Do not fear" She continued, grinning "if you grow to love your husband and he loves you it will be even nicer!" A bright red blush crept onto Marie's cheeks and she looked down with a giggle.
"Truly?"

"Truly, my love. Is there anything else? In truth, I have always wondered something...."
Her daughter raised her head eagerly, tilting it.
"Then ask, ma Mère!"
Constance nodded, taking a breath. She'd wanted to ask this question for many years now and (though she loathed to admit it) that moment may be the last chance she had to do so.
"What do you remember of Warwick?"
Marie's eyes widened again.

"Uncle Richard?" Oh how long it had been since Constance had heard that name "Very little. I remember a great pair of arms sweeping me upwards in the courtyard while I laughed and a deep voice that would call me sweet endearments....I remember the night we were trapped and a dead boy lay before my eyes....I called out to him, someone I thought I would always be safe with but he didn't even look at me...." She blinked the glass look that had momentarily clouded her eyes vanishing "that is all"

Constance nodded slowly. Perhaps it was better Marie remembered little rather than most, perhaps it would lessen the sting of his betrayal? Did she even feel one or was he a figure of the past long faded from her heart? It pained her and comforted her to believe it was the latter.

"Well, I wished for us to say our goodbyes in private, little love. On the sea front I will not be able to speak as I wish to, to tell you how much I will miss you, will long to embrace you, that I will worry for you every hour of every day" Sighing, she pulled her daughter to her, cradling the back of her head, heart clenching when Marie wrapped her arms around her middle "I do not want to let you go, my dearest darling, my loveliest rose....I still remember the day you were born, how perfect you were....you are so beautiful now, my daughter, so perfect and I wish you to remember that every day! Remember I love you, that I will always love you, that you are the daughter of the greatest King England has seen and I bid you never forget it"

"I will write to you" Marie whispered and with a shake of her shoulders, Constance realised she was crying. She held her tighter.
"I know...." She said trying to fight back the tears pooling in her eyes. Would Marie be allowed to write? "I know, my love, and one day we will see each other again, I promise you that! I cannot spend the rest of my days not seeing your beautiful face again, not hearing your beautiful voice or your laugh!"

"Or your beautiful grandchildren"
Constance chuckled, the idea of her child having a child a scary and lovely one.
"I see you've warmed to the idea!"
"Of course I have" Marie returned, drawing away to dab at the tears marking her cheeks "It is my duty, something your taught me to fulfil" Her Mother cupped her face, kissing her forehead, once, twice, three times before she smiled.

"You are my daughter, you will succeed. Your sons shall be strong and your daughters even stronger. They will be Queens just as you and your sisters will be"
"And my future brothers and sisters?"
Constance laughed, shaking her head.
"While I still sometimes receive my monthly courses, they are not frequent. I believe my childbearing years have passed me, Marie, Charlie was my last babe and now I pass that painful, yet important, mantle onto you. Knowing I will have no more is a source of both pain and relief"

Fourteen children she'd carried, seven she'd lost.
Yes, she thought, she'd done her duty and suffered much to fulfil it, now it was time she rested.

Marie's smile faltered somewhat and she peered up with innocent eyes, worry in their dark depths.
"Ma Mère?"
"Yes, my love?"
She hesitated, swallowing.
"Will I lose babes like you?"
The question came out barely a whisper and Marie quickly bowed her head as Constance's heart skipped a beat before dropping low into her stomach, heavy as a cannonball. The thought of her beloved daughter suffering the pain she had was almost unbearable. No. It would not happen.

She shook her head fiercely, to convince both of them, squeezing Marie's so she looked up again, clearly worried she'd hurt her Mother.

"It is God's will" She replied softly "I pray and will pray each day that our great Lord above does not test you with the same trials he tested me but...." She shook her head again "If he does I will be by your side as quick as I possibly can be, you will never have to suffer such pain and grief without the embrace of your Mother and, let me tell you, little love, if you are tested then you shall survive it and it will make you stronger, I promise"

Marie's lower lip trembled.
"I do not want to be tested"
Constance's heart screamed in her chest and she pulled her baby to her, cradling her head against her chest, stroking her hair as tears slid down her cheeks.
"I know, my dearest love, I know...."

༻᯽༺

Standing betwixt her Mother and Father, a mass of nobles behind them, Marie tried not to shiver. She was not cold, no, in fact the pounding of her heart had made her uncomfortably hot, but she was afraid. These were her last moments on English shores, the last before she stepped onto the great ship before her and was taken away perhaps forever.

Even when her Lady Aunt, Maragret, appeared from below deck, walking down the velvet covered gangplank, her heart did not slow, it only made her journey more final.

"Your graces! My dearest niece!" Margaret greeted jovially, curtsying "You have grown as beautiful as reports say! I thought I would take the liberty of escorting you to your wedding in Burgundy myself!" Marie tried to return her Aunt's smile, gathering her skirts and curtsying.

"My Lady Aunt" Her Mother's hand suddenly intertwined with hers, pulled discreetly from her cloak and hidden in her daughters "It is a pleasure to see you again" Margaret's smile switched from one of of joy to sympathy as she leant in to kiss her brother on the cheek and she patted her niece's shoulder.

"I trust you will care for her" He murmured against her ear and she nodded.
"As if she were my own" She replied, loud enough so Constance could hear, hoping to calm the nerves she knew she was feeling "Well, let us be along then" Marie's eyes darted up warily but she nodded all the same, slowly drawing away from her parents and to her Aunt's side. Turning, she curtsied deeply.

"My King. My Queen"
"La perle de mon monde" Her Father replied and she looked up to see tears glistening in his blue eyes. Reaching out, he clasped her hand, bringing it to his lips and kissing her knuckles fiercely "We will always be with you"
"Always" Her Mother agreed, taking her other hand and kissing it with the same love.

Marie only nodded, scared that if she tried to speak only sobs would emerge and she would rush back to her Mother's skirts like a little girl. She tried to smile and curtsied again, her heart grieving when her parents released her hands and she felt her Aunt's gloved fingers on the small of her back, telling her it was time to go. Taking a breath, she turned and held her head high, walking towards the ship with all the determination she could muster and did not look back. Not once. Not for a moment.

If she did it would only break her heart.

It was only when she was safely below deck and the ship began to move that she peered out of her cabin window and glimpsed the obscured figures of her Mother and Father that she let herself weep and collapsed in a heap of sobs against the cold glass. Her ladies huddled around her, hugging her close but for once they brought no comfort and she only cried harder, wishing she could go back, that she could be a child again.

From the shore, Constance watched her daughter's ship sail away, her heart breaking and tears sliding down her pale cheeks as it became smaller and smaller; her beautiful little love further and further away.
"Marie...."

"It is a comfort to know, if we had not had our boys, she would've been a worthy successor to my reign"

Her eyes were struck wide with shock and her gaze shot to Edward who was watching the sea with wistful sadness.

"You would have given her England?" She whispered and more tears slid down her face when he smiled: nodded.

"Not at first" He admitted, slipping his hand into hers without looking from the sailing ship "but I know after watching her grow, watching her learn and become as strong as you and I, if we hadn't had our boys....there could be no other heir for me"