~Little Love~

4th of August 1464, Westminster Confinement ....

Her pains started at sunset, when she'd been sewing by the fire with her ladies at her side, each dressed in their array of orange gowns lit by glowing light. She had been so terrified, so scared when she felt the first bolt of burning pain shoot through her belly, that she had cried out, dropping her embroidery to the fur covered floor.

She'd thought she was loosing her child, could almost see her baby being carried away in blankets sodden with blood and tears but Anne had merely clapped her hands so the others leapt to their feet.

"What do we do?" Margaret asked, panicked as Beth and Katherine took the Queen by the arms, guiding her to her bed. Isabel Neville had never been present at a birth before and now, as Constance almost doubled over in pain, tears burning her eyes, her heart began to pound erratically. She didn't know what to do she didn't know what to say, she could hardly think!

"Undress her!" Anne ordered before taking to unlacing the Queen's gown herself; nimble fingers working down the purple velvet at an unknown speed before pulling the dress from her shoulders "Fetch water!" She ordered, looking at Isabel while her sisters worked on the Queen's shoes and kirtle "And towels, now!"

"It's alright, dear" Beth reassured Constance as she climbed onto the bed in her shift, breathing heavily as if she were trying to claw the air into her lungs. She hardly remembered James' birth, she only remembered his little face, how perfect he'd been.....

"I don't want to lose him....I can't lose him...." She gasped, pressing her head into the pillows. Beth shook her head, taking away the covers of the bed until only a plain sheet remained.
"You won't, sister! We will see this baby delivered and by dawn you shall have a York Prince in your arms!"

Constance nodded, tried to think, to keep herself conscious while pain coursed through her veins but that had been almost two days ago now. Covered in a veil of sweat that made her shift stick to her skin and dampened her hair; the pillow beneath she lay in agonising despair. Incense skewed her senses, assailing her nose with a thick cloud of rosemary and lavender that made her mind reel.

For forty eight hours she had been lying on her godforsaken bed, trying to push the babe from her body but it refused to come no matter how hard she tried. She had pushed, she had screamed, clawed at the covers until they were in danger of ripping. She felt like she was being torn apart from the inside but still her baby refused to be born.

She was starting to worry and she could feel her ladies, the midwives begin to worry too. All around her, their muffled voices murmured how they had scarcely seen such a difficult birth. Between themselves they murmured solutions, murmured consequences of those solutions, some as if she were not even there, as if she was just an object to be set aside in favour of the baby.

"We should toss her in a blanket" One midwife suggested but was almost met with the fists of the Duchess of Exeter for it.
"No!" She ordered "You will not do that or I swear you shall answer to the King for any damage done!"

"Help me...." Constance groaned as tears streamed down her face, mingling with her sweat "Help my baby" Anne took her hand, kneeling by bed to press a cool cloth to her forehead.
"We will" She promised "We will see you and your baby through this safely"

"I just want him in my arms" The Queen wept, another bout of pain tearing her insides apart "I want my son in my arms.....I want Edward" Her voice rose to a shout "I want Edward!"

"We can't bring him, your grace!" Katherine replied, bringing over a fresh bowl of water to gently clean away the blood that coated her legs "You know that!" Constance began to cry again, turning her face away from the world while her body writhed upon the covers.

"You must push again, your grace" One midwife ordered, helping to prop up the Queen's legs once more while she groaned.
"I can't.....I can't anymore...."
"You must, your grace" She told her but Constance only held her belly more tears pouring from her eyes.

"Please, Connie" Margaret whispered as she came to kneel by her sister "You have to push, for your baby, for England, for Edward. Think of how proud Ned will be once he has your son in his arms"

"He will" Constance whispered, finally finding the strength to hold her legs upwards for herself, planting her feet firmly against the mattress "he will, I will make him proud, Maggie"

"Then push, my dear" Beth urged "Please push"
The Queen nodded and the women around her sighed with relief "Isabel, sit behind her" The girl nodded and, lifting her skirts, clambered onto the bed, helping to prop Constance up before she settled herself behind her.

"Hold my hands" She whispered, rather unprepared for the iron grip that encased said hands before a shrill scream filled the air as the Queen pushed.
"That's it!" Anne encouraged "Push, Connie! Push!"

Constance screamed again, forcing all the strength of mind and body she possessed into the push that she gave to help her babe into the world. Nails digging into Isabel's hands she leant back against the older woman and pushed a third time, taking heart at the nods from the midwives around her.

"He's here! He's here!" Katherine called and the others gathered around "but he's breech"

"Breech?" Constance groaned as she pushed again "what does that mean.....what does it mean?"
"It means your baby is feet first, my dear" Anne explained, pressing the cool cloth to the Queen's forehead again "he will be fine, I am sure, you simply must push again!"

The Queen did as she was told, the urge to hold her son safely in her arms overwhelming her and providing her with the last shred of strength she needed. And so, with one final scream that threatened to bring the palace crashing down around them, the cry of a babe filled the air and Constance fell back against Isabel.

Anne immediately took the squealing babe from the midwife, cleaning the blood from their little body before she studied it and paused. Looking to the Queen, there was a form of sympathy swimming in her eyes that made Constance sit up, panic suddenly filling her heart.

"What is it?" She demanded "What is wrong with my son?"

"You have a daughter, Connie" Anne whispered, slowly wrapping the baby in silk blankets "You have a girl"
Constance stopped, blinking before she shook her head, once, twice, three times in disbelief. Three years she'd waited to bear Edward another son, three years England had waited for an heir to the House of York....

"What....no....that can't be" She breathed "I must have a son....I have to have a son for Edward" She shook her head again, staring at the tiny squirming human before holding out her arms "Give her to me, give me my baby"

Propping up the pillows behind her, Isabel helped her to sit before leaving the bed, watching with nervous eyes as Anne passed the little Princess to her Mother. Constance gazed down at the little face that stared up at her with bright blue eyes and a dusting of fluffy brown hair on her small head.

Her heart filled with infinite love.

"Hello, my darling" She whispered and the baby in her arms gave a little yawn, her plump mouth forming into a small 'O' as her little arms broke free of her blankets, stretching into the air "oh my little one, my perfect little one...."

"Where is my son? I will see him now!" Edward's determined voice echoed through the corridors as he all but ran towards his Queen's confinement chamber, bursting through the door in a flash of blue velvet! His eyes darted around the room, looking, searching until they fell on his wife who was cradling a bundle of blankets "My son" He whispered.

Constance looked up, her face crumpling a little and eyes pricking with tears as she shook her head.
"It's a girl, Edward" She said, watching with an aching heart as his smile faltered and he sniffed a little stroking his chin "It's a girl....."

"Leave us"
"Ned...." Anne began only to be cut off.
"I said, leave us!"

One by one, they all filed out, Beth closing the door with one last lingering look before she pulled the heavy oak shut. Constance looked down at the little girl in her arms, one who was slowly drifting to sleep, content in the embrace of her Mother.

"May I hold her?" She looked up to see Edward had approached the bed and was now watching them with a soft smile on his face. She nodded as enthusiastically as she could while he settled himself beside her, never tearing his eyes from the little one nestled in Constance's arms.

Reaching out, his hands gently touched the silk blankets before closing in slightly until he felt a warm little body and lifted his daughter into his arms. She woke just a little, slowly blinking as she tried to look at the new face staring down at her.

"She's a beautiful girl" He chuckled and Constance smiled beside him, feeling the weight on her heart lighten a little "We will love her very much!"
"Will we? Will you really?"
"Of course!" He exclaimed, balancing the baby in one strong arm while he took her hand, placing it atop their daughter's blankets "How could I not adore something that has been created from our love?"

"Truly?"
The girl began to fuss a little, her mouth puckering as she sucked her gums, eager for her first feed.

"Truly" Edward replied, watching with a smile as Constance took their daughter back and began to manoeuvre her shift from her body, revealing one breast swelled by milk ready to feed her child "You know that you shall have a wet nurse for that?"

"I know, mon amor" She replied, guiding her little one to her breast, helping her latch on and begin to suckle gently. It was a strange feeling at first but Constance did not mind. She never fed James and every day since his death she'd wished she had. She wouldn't miss the chance with her daughter "but I would like to do it, just this once"

"Here" Edward offered, putting his arm around her shoulders and coaxing her to lean on him so she was comfortable as they watched their daughter feed.

"I will give you boys....sons and heirs"
"I know" He assured her "You are so very lovely, Connie, I could not bare to lose you...." She looked up at him, her tired face lighting with a smile "What shall we call her? Our little York Princess? Mary perhaps, I thought you would favour that name as it would be for the Virgin Mother?"

"Mary" Constance pondered. Yes, it was a beautiful name, a beautiful name for a beautiful girl like her daughter "that is the name of my sister Isabella's daughter and I rather favour the way it is spoken in our homeland, Marie"

Edward smiled, tilting his head to the side.
"Princess Marie of York"
"Will you permit it?" She asked quietly and he turned to her, eyes brimming with love.

"Oh my sweet love" He sighed "I would permit you to take the very stars from the sky if you so desired"

༻᯽༺

September 1464....

Little Princess Marie Plantagenet was christened at Westminster Abbey in a ceremony of the greatest splendour; held the entire time by her proud Father. Her Godparents were named as Richard Neville, Earl of Warwick and Cecily Neville, Duchess of York, both of whom seemed enamoured by the young Princess and took turns cradling her at the christening feast.

That fine summer day had been nothing short of torture for the Queen. She was still in confinement therefore and she could not emerge until she had been churched, meaning she cried in Anne's arms for two hours when Edward left the palace with their daughter.

Still weak from the difficult birth, her ladies had each protested her rising from bed but she waved them away.

All day she'd waited by the unbolted windows, taking no joy (unlike she'd anticipated) at the rays of sun that warmed her pale skin. Instead a bitter anxiety gnawed away at her heart, fuelling the tears streaming down her face while her ladies comforted her. What if she caught a fever while she was away? What if Edward returned and she burned hot like James did and her Mother was forced to watch as her life was snuffed out?

Constance didn't think her heart could take it.

When she slept, they took turns by the window, watching for the return of the King and Princess, listening for Edward's footsteps.

Constance all but hurled herself at the chamber door when Edward finally returned, carrying their sleeping babe within their arms, a fact she discarded when she took Marie into her embrace. Peppering her small, cherub face with kisses she cuddled her close to her chest, swearing to herself that she would never let her daughter go again!

It was strange, how this little girl had been somewhat of a disappointment to the court and her parents for her sex and yet Constance did not see how she could adore her more if she had been a boy! Marie was a part of her none could ever take away, filling the space the deaths of her other two babies had left. Her little love she came to call her and could only pray she was not taken too.

She was perfect in every way and it was clear Edward adored her. He took every chance to dote upon his little daughter, visiting his Queen in the evenings to sit in bed with her and cradle their child. He would read stories to her, even sing to her sometimes, and Constance found herself in love with him more than ever.

"We shall have you churched" He told her one night when he'd placed Marie on the covers between them, taking delight in the way her little hand curled around one of his fingers "Then you can come back to me, mon amor"

"Mm, I can" She mused, contently cuddled against his chest "I cannot wait to be free of this room although I hope it shan't be many months until I return!" Edward chuckled at that bending his head to kiss her.
"So you wish for our little Marie to have a little brother or sister so soon?"

Constance hummed, she didn't enjoy childbirth in the least, nor the confinement surrounding it but she wanted to give Edward a son, England an heir. It was a point upon which her family's stability depended on and another pregnancy soon was crucial.

Despite that, she could not deny that the birth had left her weaker than she had ever been! Her limbs were thin beneath her nightgown and, rather than portray a glowing perfection as it had during pregnancy, her complexion was rather sallow.

"Nothing that a few good meals cannot fix!" Anne told her merrily but the Queen was not so sure, she felt something was wrong within her, though hoped it would heal, then she could regain her strength.
"I will give you a son, Ned" She promised, watching little Marie drift into the land of sleep "And then you will truly be safe from harm"

༻᯽༺

Dressed in white silk with a veil of the same hue covering her dark hair, Constance knelt before the chapel alter under the eyes of the old bishop and the court behind her. On and on her droned in Latin, performing the sign of the cross more times than she dared count!

Still, she didn't mind, once the ceremony was complete she would be free to step into court once more by Edward's side. It had been made known to her by her Ladies that there could be no doubt of Elizabeth Woodville's position as the King's mistress now and the star of Woodville was rising ever higher in the sky, much to the discontentment of the courtiers.

They were not present at such an event and Constance was glad that she would not have to suffer their simpering smiles and feigned innocence until the morrow.

Marie was to her side, garbed in a delicate white robe with a little cap on her head, held by her proud Godfather Warwick who gazed at the little child as if she were an Angel. Edward was beside him watching his wife with clear adoration and a small smile that spoke of nothing but love for her.

"In nomine patris et filii et spiritus sancti" The Bishop declared in his monotone voice, cracked with age and made the sign of the cross once more "You are cleansed, your grace" He said and Edward swooped forward to help raise his wife to her feet.

"I shall see you in your chambers" He told her "I must speak to Richard" She answered him with a nod, walking over to where Warwick stood, still doting on his little Goddaughter. He smiled proudly when he saw her.

"Congratulations, your grace" He exclaimed merrily, passing Marie to her Mother who cradled her close "On your first York Princess!"

"Thank you, Richard" She replied with a smile, glad to see him once more, before moving away. She acknowledged the various bows and curtsies with a new-found enthusiasm in her nods. Until then she'd not realised how much she missed acting as Queen and now, with her little Marie, she cherished the position all the more.

Her beautiful daughter would grow up in the vibrant court she'd created and one day would craft a court of her own!

"You shall be a Queen, my little love" Constance told her, nodding to the guards that bowed when she walked out of the chapel and into the palace. Perhaps she would be the Queen of France? Or Spain? Whatever transpired in the years to come, she would see her daughter ascend to greatness, as she would all her children.

It was God who'd bestowed the little Princess to her instead of a Prince so she was sure he'd entailed upon her spirit a great destiny!

The hallways were unusually deserted but she did not mind, it gave her time to enjoy the sun cascading upon the marble and the ornate decorations for the Christening without interruption. Her slippers tapped upon the tiled floor and her gown swished elegantly along behind her.

Nothing could mar her joy in that moment, nothing on earth until she came to a point where four corridors met and Elizabeth Woodville stepped into the sunlight. Constance felt herself falter and halted as the woman stopped in front of her. She was even more beautiful than when the Queen had last glimpsed her, more jewels adorning her person, making her lithe figure glisten in the light.

Gifts from Edward, Constance supposed with a secret sigh.

With patience (more attributed to her weariness than anything else) she waited for the curtsy that was due to her as this woman's superior but no curtsy came, not even a nod. Elizabeth stared her boldly in the eye, almost challenging her as a confidant smirk appeared on her lips.

"Only a girl then?" She asked in a flippant tone Constance had not before heard but she was too shocked to retort to. She didn't know what to do! It was if God had frozen her to her place, she could not even move when Elizabeth raised a hand and placed it to her belly, her smirk becoming even more evident "With any luck I hope for different"

She was pregnant.

And then, just as if she were indeed Queen, she sniffed haughtily and glided away in a swirl of blue silk matching her striking eyes.

The innocent maiden she was no longer.
Now she was a dragon and deadly fire emanated from her.