~A Curse to Keep my Husband~

August 1485, Westminster Palace....

Lock the doors

Bolt the windows

Light the candles

Check the doors again

Check the windows again

Over and over Eleanor dashed around her chamber, repeating such simple actions that so much weighed upon! If a lock was not secure a door could be opened, if a window was not bolted a breeze could blow into the room and puff the life of the candles into a dark nothingness.

She had sent all her children but one back to Middleham. George.
There, his siblings would be safe and protected by those who loved and cared for them but George himself was the Prince of Wales and it was his role to be by his Mother's side now.

And so, after pushing her entourage as hard as she could through the dry fields and rocky roads, driving them mercilessly through the night like a major general in command of an army, they had made it to Westminster in a little under a week!

The city had cheered her and her son through the streets until their voices were hoarse and white rose petals had rained down upon her like a floating crown from the angels above just as it was at her coronation! That day she had been assured they were on her side and had their support. That day her determination had been set in stone, her fears pushed to the four corners of her mind and her love for her people had soared to heaven.

She, Queen Eleanor of York would protect them from the Tudors that dared to invade her lands!

And she knew exactly how to do that.

That night she had sent away her Ladies (much to their confusion) and had gathered the unlit candles of her chamber into her arms, carrying them diligently to the fireplace. One by one she had lined them up and used a piece of kindling from the fire to light their wicks until a blanket of lights danced before her eyes.

Blood magic

Her Mother had always warned her and her sisters against it for it was dangerous, more dangerous than their magic of water and air. This was magic of fire and blood, of death and destruction, spells and curses laid down to bring pain and devastation but also to protect the ones you loved dearest.

Eleanor sighed slightly and crossed herself.
She took a breath, slow and steady.
Then a second, as steady as the first.
A third and she placed a hand to her belly.

'I will keep you safe' she promised the baby that grew inside of her 'I will love you and you will grow up in my arms, beloved by all who know you'

A fourth breath and she opened her eyes again, emerald green glinting in the amber flames of the fire and the candles before her. At the fifth she took out her dagger, the same one Richard had given the day she went to Grafton, the same one used to discover her part in the plot to free the boys in the Tower.

Slowly tucking the soft silk sleeves of her nightgown to her elbows, she gulped and held up one hand, the dagger held firm in the other.

The blade was cold against her wrist and she shivered as she pressed the metal into her skin a little. Her mind rang with warnings of danger but also filled with the faces of her family, her children, her friends.

Richard

"My darling" she breathed into the night air and closed her eyes once more. And then she spoke, her voice crisp and clear, shattering the silence that was as delicate as frost, as swirling and encasing as morning mist, as safe and as dangerous, weaving its invisible bonds around her as a daughter of the River called to her Mother.

"Melusina" she began "Mother of my blood and my magic, hear my words and hear them well, take my blood as my offering, take my words as my bond. Hear me Mother, help your daughter who turns to you to protect her kin who to are daughters of the water! Curse Henry Tudor, son of Margaret Beaufort and Edmund Tudor, a traitor and threat to your line! He comes to this land to destroy all I have built and to tear me and your other daughters from each other's arms and from your safe care! He comes to kill, to destroy to burn and to strip this land bear of its King and I its Queen. Let his heart be stopped, let him die upon a battlefield where a York Rose shall fly high above the blood red dragon that paints his standards! Let him die at the hands of a pure White Rose, the true King of England! Let his army fail, let it be destroyed as the might of York drowns him and his army under our power! Hear me now Mother and help your daughter! I beg of you, protect my kin and myself, fuel my magic and let it be cast over the land" 

She held her arm a little higher, her dagger a little firmer and took a deep breath before her eyes snapped open and she looked to her chamber ceiling.

"Mother of mine, mother of the sea and rivers, of streams and of magic! Take my blood and take my curse, lay it down and see it through!" Her voice rose and she felt fire run through her veins, warmth flooding through her body "Take my curse and see it through!" The dagger sliced through her skin, cutting her wrist clean.

She hissed as the blade drove hard into her flesh and her vein came open, blood as dark as rubies spilling onto her alabaster white wrist. Stinging tears filling her eyes, Eleanor thrust her wrist over the dying flames of the fire and as soon as her blood struck the ashen wood, blackened and burned the windows flew open.

A roaring wind tore into the room, whipping her hair, blowing out the candles in one swift motion that chilled her to the bone as howling filled her ears.

Song as pure as starlight followed, sending warmth through her veins once more and Eleanor opened her eyes, allowing her tears to shed, to glide slowly down her cheeks as her the pain in her wrist ebbed, soothed by invisible hands.

"Thank you, Mother" she whispered softly "thank you"

꧁꧂

Flicking her fingers over the makeshift bandage that she had torn from a discarded sheet, hidden beneath the primrose silk of her gown, Eleanor looked down the trestle tables that filled the great hall.

The laughter that filled her ears was light and airy, almost like tinkling bells, high pitched and merry with no deep tones marring it. But of course that would be for there were no men apart from little boys present in the torchlit hall that night and would not be for many a night to come.

Noblewomen dressed in their silken and bejewelled finery danced before the great dais as they would with their husbands, joyful and elegant each hoping for a smile from their Queen. Under the high table, Eleanor tapped her feet along to the melody played by the minstrels, longing to jump from her seat and join the others.

"I think I know exactly what you are thinking" an amused voice said from beside her and Eleanor glanced to the side to see Jane grinning.
"And what might that be, Mistress Shore?" A small smirk and a wine lightened giggle.

"I'm thinking that you would like to dance?"
Eleanor grinned.
"You are correct!" She answered with a approving nod and Jane chuckled to herself, tearing a small piece of bread from the slice that was on her plate "Anais and Marie are! Lizzie and Issy are too! Even Cat!" The Queen gave a little huff and shrank back into the King's throne "but Dickon wouldn't like it! Not when I am due to give birth any day now!" 

Another airy laugh filled the air and Jane shook her head, red ringlets bouncing around her pretty face as her blue eyes took on the familiar gleam of mischief.

"King Richard isn't here" she pointed out and popped another piece of bread into her mouth, chewing delicately while she let Eleanor figure out her plan. It didn't take long and Jane grinned again, pushing her plate away "my dearest Queen, a very picture of beauty and loveliness, would you grant me a dance?" She extended a hand and arched an eyebrow as Eleanor nodded.

"I will!" She replied, taking Jane's hand "since you asked so nicely, Mistress Shore! Escort your Queen to the others!"

Together they made their way from the dais to the other couples where they placed themselves at the front of the dancing line, grinning.

"I believe the last time I danced like this so near the front I was with Edward" Jane remarked lightly though there was a nostalgia to her tone that made Eleanor curious as they twirled around one another.

"Did you love him?" A slight pause. It was a question that had always lingered at the back of her mind. Had Jane loved Edward? Had Edward loved Jane or was she a mere plaything to him as so many women before and after her were? Objects of beauty used for pleasure before they were discarded like broken dolls.

"I did" Jane replied at last as they joined hands once more to skip along the hall's stone floor in time to the melody "he protected me and cared for me" a smile curved the corners of her lips "he used to make me laugh a lot and I used to make him laugh too....he always used to say that he came to me when he needed light because all Elizabeth would give him was gloom" She looked at the Queen "or at least that's how it was after the Duke of Clarence's death, he never forgave himself for that"

Eleanor sniffed a little and felt her chest tighten a little. She seldom allowed herself to think of George anymore, the memories brought her too much pain but now her interest had been pricked and there was nothing that could be done to stop it.

"Nor did I" she murmured "but....was he sorry? Truly, Jane?"

"He was. Never more so after you and King Richard became so distant. He understood it, of course, but he cared for you like a little sister, Leena, he loved you and to see you grow so far from him well....it broke his heart. He would speak of it to me for he couldn't speak of it to Elizabeth, she didn't like to talk of you and Richard much even though she asked after you often, hoping you would come back to her side one day. Edward simply wanted you to love him again, he even cried about it once" a wistful sigh left her lips "he cried in my arms, almost as if he were in mourning for you and King Richard, as if you were nothing more than ghosts to him now....or perhaps he thought he was a ghost to you. Gone and forgotten"

Eleanor shook her head and suddenly stopped dancing, letting her hand drop from Jane's.
"I think I've had enough" she whispered and left the others, making her way back to the high table, trying to keep her eyes from filling with tears she bowed her head a little. Jane was soon by her side, placing a gentle hand on her shoulder.

"Are you well, Leena?"
"I just miss him it's all" she leant against the table, cradling her small belly in her hands "I don't like thinking about Edward but" she looked away as her face crumpled a little "but I miss him" taking a deep breath, Eleanor grimaced as she suddenly felt a familiar pain tear through her lower stomach "oh god" she breathed and Jane's arm was around her waist in a second "I think my baby wants to greet the world"

꧁꧂

22nd of August 1485....

"It's all vell, Leena" Anais yelled over the screams and groans that emerged from the Queen as she lay on her bed, legs splayed and chemise damp with blood and sweat "your baby vill be here soon!"

"Well I wish they'd hurry up!" Eleanor cried through gritted teeth, clutching onto Anais and Marie's hands with all the strength she could muster.

"It won't be long" Marie soothed, tuning to dip a clean rag into a bowl of cool water and pressing it to the Queen's face "and then you shall have your baby in your arms"

"Where's Jane?" She groaned as she pushed "I need my Jane with me"
"With George" Anna answered "he was scared for you but she will be back soon" another scream.

"Good" Eleanor panted as she tried to regain her breath to fill her burning lungs "good....god I'm glad the little children are away" she groaned as another stab of pain coursed through her belly "I know they hate to hear me scream"

Settling back against the pillows, she closed her eyes and braced herself for one last time. A scream tore from her throat as she pushed again, heels digging into the mattress, nails digging into her Ladies hands, chest heaving and jaw clenched.

And then she fell back, legs collapsing onto the covers. For a moment all she knew was a blur, her hearing, her sight, light was a curse to her eyes until a baby's cry pierced the air and she forced herself upright.

"You have a little Princess!" Anais pronounced with glee as she wrapped the tiny child in a soft blanket, cleaning her while she squirmed and stretched her pink limbs.
"Give her to me, Anna" Eleanor demanded and held out her arms while Marie propped up pillows behind her "give me my Katheryn"

The little girl was passed to her and Eleanor clutched little Katheryn to her chest, rocking her back and forth while tears of joy leaked from her eyes. Katheryn was a tiny little babe, delicate and sweet with her screwed up face and curled up hands that reached aimlessly for her Mother "it's alright, sweeting" Eleanor cooed "I'm here now, I'm here"

The weak cries softened as little Katheryn snuggled into her Mother's chest, head resting on her breast and her little eyes dropping close for sleep.
"She's beautiful" Marie whispered and Eleanor beamed, pride swelling in her chest. She knew Richard would be proud of their new daughter too!

꧁꧂

26th of August 1485....

As the doors to the Queen's chamber flew open it was as if all happiness had been snatched from the air and from all. Smiles fell, laughs ceased and gasps replaced them. Eleanor looked up from where she was feeding Katheryn and adjusted her gown back into place.

A cry of horror escaped Lizzie and she dropped the fresh linen she was carrying to cover her mouth with her hands, eyes wide with fear.
"Georgie!" She cried as she saw the Duke of Bedford standing in the doorway. Dried blood caked his face, matted his hair and his armour was dirtied and battered, the paint scratched till it was almost unrecognisable.

By now twelve year old George had looked up from his chess board and was staring, almost terrified, at the man he viewed as his older brother. He shook his head in disbelief and he dropped the golden piece he held.

The King.

A large gash above Georgie's left eyebrow had left half of his face covered in his own blood and heavy purple circles under his eyes betrayed his lack of sleep.

But everyone could see he was crying.

"No" Eleanor breathed and found herself clutching her daughter close to her chest.

No. No. No. No!

There had been no victory bells.

No cries of relived wives and Mothers.

No Richard....

"No!" She yelled and Georgie looked at her, terror filling his eyes as he swallowed and his mouth tried to form words that refused to appear on his chapped and split lips "No!"

She passed Katheryn to Anais and stood, clenching her fists and looking defiantly at Georgie as if that would somehow protect her from what was to come.

"No!" She cried again when he let out a stifled sob, feeling her head begin to spin, her heart begin to break and crack as an invisible dagger of unspoken words was thrust deep into her flesh.

"The King is dead" Georgie said, his voice breaking slightly as he spoke and a silence fell. It was as if a thousand breaths were suddenly held in unison and pairs of shocked eyes looked to the Queen who simply stared for a moment at the man before her.

She shook her head.

"No....not.....no!" She stammered her senses dulled for a moment as her mind refused to acknowledge what had been said to her "Not Richard!" She gulped and her chest tightened as she tried to breathe "that's.... that's not possible....he said he'd come back" she clutched at her necklace, pale fingers curling around the string of pearls, locking them into a painful grip "he promised me he'd come back.... he's alive....." her face crumpled and she began to tremble "he's alive!"

She looked around, her green eyes wild and haunting, searching desperately for comfort only to find devastated faces meeting her gaze, plain grief written on them.

Lizzie had rushed to Georgie and had tears sliding down her face.

Marie was leant against the chamber wall next to Jane who was now knelt by and holding a horror filled George who was trying in vain not to cry.
Anais was still sat on her chair but she was hiding her tears against baby Katheryn's shoulder.

Silently, they told her her worst fears were a reality.

Silently, those looks of grief told her that Richard was dead.

That her heart was broken beyond repair.
That she had lost the one person she loved the most in all the world and would never regain him.

She had lost her life.
Her love.

"Richard!" She screamed.

And little Katheryn began to wail.