~Mother's Sons~

The Duke and Duchess of Gloucester left Westminster for the North two days after George's death, departing in a miserable silence that followed them all the way back to the North. Eliza clung to Eleanor's waist as they rode together, tears streaming down her face while her lip trembled.

She finally seemed to understand that her Father was gone, that he was dead and she felt more alone than she ever had. She had always felt something was missing without the presence of her Mother but now that George was gone, she was sure her heart was not only empty but broken. She wept and wept during the days and weeks that followed George's death, curling up on her bed while Eleanor held her tight, stroking her hair.

At night she could not sleep and suffered from nightmares that plagued her endlessly, tormenting her mind.

How many times had she watched her Father die in her sleep?

How many times had she heard him plead and cry and beg while he was torn apart by his own brother?

Each night she would wake up screaming and would run through to Eleanor and Richard for comfort. Reaching out to her, they would let the little girl crawl between them and snuggle into their bed while she sobbed before she finally fell asleep again.

Eliza had never hated anyone before. She had been raised on love by the nuns at the convent and then by Eleanor and Richard at Middleham. But now she hated Edward. Hated him with all her being. She knew it was a sin to pray for the deaths of other and that it was treason to pray for the death of a King; that she risked her very soul in doing so.

But that did not stop her.

And she knew that both Eleanor and Richard felt the same. Though she didn't think they prayed for his death she could see the anger and resentment that filled their eyes every time Edward was mentioned, how they would reach out to take the other's hand for comfort and control.

They now had the guardianships of Edward and Margaret of Clarence but, just as they had expected, Anne had written from Sudeley begging that the children be put into her care. The Gloucester's had instantly agreed. It would have been what Isabel wanted for her children.

On the journey back to the North, George Neville tried to distract his little cousin by playing with her. He began to teach her to ride his horse, Thunder, in the morning before they began their journeys, though he had to spend hours seeking her out as she took to hiding herself away in her grief.

When he did manage to coax her out of her hiding places she would always stumble when he lifted her up into the saddle, her feet slipping on the stirrups. But after a while she would begin to smile a little, even giggle from time to time as she trotted around fields with Georgie leading her.

They continued this at Middleham and soon enough Eliza began to follow Georgie around like he was a God! She seemed to worship the very ground he walked on and he did not push her away as some might. He treated her like a little sister and her loyalties soon came to lie with him.

And so the days turned into weeks, the weeks turned into months and the months eventually slipped into years. But no matter how much time seemed to go by, grief and tragedy still followed the Duke and Duchess of Gloucester like the plague.

First a babe, as delicate as a fallen leaf and named for his Father. Born on the 15th of December 1478 when the first snows fell. Dead in January before they melted; blown swiftly away by death's gentle breeze before he had even truly grasped at his chance of life.

He was placed in Middleham's chapel and mourned deeply by all who lived there. For Eleanor and Richard he had been a symbol of hope, of new life an happiness after George's death but God had seen fit to take him from them; casting them into darkness.

Nineteen months later (in July of 1480) saw the birth of a little girl with dark brown hair and a wide toothless grin. She was named Eleanor for her mother and was as healthy babe as ever was seen! The Duchess called her her 'little ray of sunshine' and loved to parade her around the castle wrapped in a silken blanket instead of her usual swaddling bands.

But, of course, this happiness was not to last. It was only a month until it was destroyed.

Eleanor had always told him not to run.
Had always told him to walk on the stairs.
Had always told him to look where he was going.

But of course he did not listen.
What five year old would?

It had been a warm September day and the children had all been flooding out into the courtyard to the stables, laughing and joking with one another. That morning they had each begged Richard and Eleanor to take them hunting, all wanting to show the skills they had acquired throughout the years! And, of course, wanting to prove that they were the best out of their peers.

Georgie led the group of boys, his younger namesake, William and John trailing after him as usual, though now they had Eliza in tow too, while Bess led the girls.

She had stunned the entire group by appearing in the great hall in a pair of John's breeches and one of his old shirts, the proudest look on her face while her siblings stared at her; mouths agape. Francis and Rob had erupted into peals of astonished laughter and applause, rather impressed by the eight year old's boldness, as was Eleanor whose eyes were shining with pride for she had done the same at that age!

Richard simply watched as Bess hopped down the steps, sauntering to the door with her head held high in the air; red curls tumbling down her back. A small smile played on his lips and danced in his eyes before Bess looked at him. Richard knew she was expecting a reprimand or a stern order that she change into a gown but he simply called "it suits you, Bessie, perhaps I should knight you?"

Her smile then had been enough to light up the entire earth with its glow and she ran to him, throwing herself into his arms.

Now she had a grinning Katheryn and Matilda (who had also found herself a pair of breeches though they hardly fitted her) following in her wake while they found their horses and swung themselves into the saddles.

With Anais and Marie stood Edward, Cecily and Isabella, the little ones looking rather disgruntled at being left out though they waved merrily enough to their siblings and watched with curiosity as William suddenly rushed past them. He had forgotten his bow!

He had dashed to his room to fetch it, running down the hallways to his bedchamber with all the speed he could muster before he ran back out again towards the stairs.

It had been a few moments later that Eleanor heard his terrified yell.

And after it was as if all the world had gone silent. She could not think, could not breathe, could not talk as she jumped from her saddle with Richard and ran back towards her home; the cry echoing in her ears and the alarming quiet that followed.

My boy....

My son....

My child....

They found him at the bottom of the stairs, limbs askew, blood gushing from the wound in his head, little fingers still tightly wrapped around his precious bow.

That day was the first and only time Eleanor ever heard Richard scream. A strangled, desperate cry that tore from his very soul as he sank to his knees and she fell to hers, gathering their five year old boy into his arms. He had carried him to his room, laid him on his bed, listening to every weak breath William grasped at while his blood soaked his pillows.

And Richard and Eleanor stayed there.

Pleading

Praying

Hoping

But by nightfall their hope was gone and their boy was dead.

"Perhaps we are cursed to lose all our sons" she said in a trembling whisper as they watched his small coffin be lowered into a grave beside his little brother's just four days later.

She remembered the night when she had cursed George to lose all of his sons and felt shame and regret fill her. How could she have ever even considered inflicting this pain on others? Upon George and Isabel? 'Perhaps this is God's revenge for my actions?' She wondered before a terrifying thought entreated her mind.

What if this was not God. What if this was Elizabeth? What if it truly was a curse? A curse of Melusina laid down to live until it was completed? Eleanor shuddered slightly.

Richard shook his head, gulping back his tears but Eleanor merely stared at the coffin, her face contorted with pain and anguish as she cried; grateful for the black veil that hid her. She did not want the children to see her so. She must be strong for them "William is gone" she whispered "my little Richard is gone....Edward is sick as the day he was born...."

"But George is strong" Richard said, trying to make his voice sound reassuring though it shook. Eleanor squeezed his hand "and Edward will grow strong too, you'll see!"

"William was strong" she wept, her tears splashing onto the stone floor of the chapel as she sank to her knees, unable to stand any longer. The pain in her heart was so excruciating she feared it would tear her apart. "my boy was strong!" She cried "and now he lies dead in a tomb!" Richard knelt beside her as he too mourned and the couple clung to one another in those moments as if they would never let go.

It was if they had been set adrift at sea all alone with no one but one another and now they clung together for life and comfort "I love you" Eleanor whispered through her tears against his black doublet.
"I know, my darling" was all he said, tucking her head beneath his chin "I know"

But just as storms were common at sea, a storm was soon set upon Middleham once more as January of 1481 arrived four months later. Still dressed in black and her eyes red from a fresh wave of tears, it had been Eleanor that received the missive that the King had sent and she had had to grab onto John as she read it, slightly startling the ten year old.

"Jesus, are you well Maman?" He had asked, alarmed as he watched the colour drain from her face.
"Your Uncle, it seems, is determined to take all who I love from me" was all she said before she disappeared to her room.

It took Richard a month to muster the army for the Scottish war Edward had demanded he wage and in February the Duke finally departed, his face bleak and resentful. The only one not stood on Middleham castle's steps that cold morning had been Eleanor for she and Richard had said their farewells privately, not wanting to be seen weeping into one another's arms as they had done.

Just as at William's funeral, they had clung to one another but now they whispered loving endearments and promises, their breath taken away by the desperate kisses that they held onto until they had to break away for air.

"I love you! I adore you! And I will come back to you!" Richard had declared as Eleanor kissed him again, her fingers wrapping around the curls of his hair as if to bind him to her.
"I know, my love" she had whispered against his lips "I know"

꧁꧂

April 1481, Middleham....

Fingers toying with the velvet of her purple gown, Eleanor smiled as she looked on the gardens from the window of her solar, entranced by the figures that darted in and around the trees; their merry laughter filling the air. Her children.

Glancing up, she began to observe the woman beside her. Margaret Beaufort. She had invited the Lady to Middleham just a week after William had died (and had done the same when her baby Richard had died too) and she had stayed ever since. Just as it had been all those years ago when Jaquetta had passed, Eleanor found that Margaret gave her comfort and solace that put her mind at rest.

Together they prayed for hours on end in the Middleham chapel and talked deep into the night. Eleanor took peace from Margaret's words, how they taught her to forgive God and find hope and comfort in prayer instead of raging against him, as she had done at first, for taking her babes from her.

But as she looked at the older woman now, she could not see the pious friend nor the cold Lancastrian. She could only see a saddened Mother. Margaret's dark eyes grew darker with a long hidden grief as she looked down upon the children in the gardens and Eleanor felt her heart swayed to pity.

"How is your boy? Henry?" She asked with a small smile. Margaret looked up, she seemed surprised that Eleanor remembered her son!
"He is well" she replied slowly with a nod of thanks "or, at least I think that he is" the Duchess frowned at that, reaching out and placing her hand on the other woman's sleeve. A signal for her to continue "I have not heard from him for the past year" Margaret explained "I think that he is safe....but I cannot be certain. I fear for him daily"

Eleanor nodded in understanding. At 13 Margaret had given birth to this boy, well man now, her only child only to have him taken away from her time and time again. Taking a deep breath she wrung her hands slightly while her mind worked.

"You know that as a Royal Duchess I have power?" She asked and Margaret nodded, her expression changing from sad to curious "well perhaps that I can use that power to track down your son? It is not to hunt him down or anything of the sort! But....perhaps we could contrive a meeting between him and you?"

"You mean....let he and I reunite?" Now her expression was one of pure astonishment. Once more Eleanor nodded, turning to look over the gardens again.

"Of course it would have to be a secret just between us two as Henry is in exile so to bring him onto English soil would be highly illegal but...."
"But what?" Margaret asked quickly, her cheeks unusually rosy with the sudden colour and brightness that hope brought.

"But I know what it is like to have your child taken from you" Eleanor murmured softly, her nails digging into the stone of the window ledge. Her chest rose and fell quickly, tears pricking her eyes "while we may be different in that my children have been taken into God's hands and your boy has been taken across the sea I think that I can understand your pain, Margaret, and I wish to soothe it if I can. You have been a loyal and kind friend to me these past year and after.... well after Will...." she broke off, turned away as she pressed a hand to her mouth; unable to go on.

She felt Margaret's hand on her shoulder and put her free hand atop it, trying to remain silent as she felt hot tears escape the corners of her eyes.
"I can't bear it" she whispered, leaning against the wall "Jaquetta I have settled with, I still miss her but then there was my baby Richard and now William....my boys....my poor poor boys....my three little angels"

"You are grieving" Margaret said gently "it is expected that you should feel hurt, Lord William was so young...."

"And that is why I think his death hurts me the most!" Eleanor cried "I know my pain should be equal for all my children and I mourn them all each day but....but at least my Jaquetta and my Richard passed peacefully! And as babes too! When they died those were facts I could take comfort in! That they passed into God's hands without pain! But....but William....he felt pain.... hours upon hours of it...." her voice trailed away again, broke into sobs that touched even Margaret's cold heart as she watched the red headed woman mourn her loss "and I could do nothing!" Eleanor continued through her tears "I could do nothing to bring my boy peace! I...I felt so helpless! I was his Mother! I am his Mother and yet I could do nothing but watch him die! I should have been able to do something! I should have been able to save him! Or at least brought him comfort!"

"I am sure that your company and his Father's brought him all the comfort in the world, your grace"
"Thank you" Eleanor murmured shakily, trying to wipe away her tears with the sleeve of her gown "thank you for that" Margaret nodded as she turned back towards the gardens and the light "It has been made more difficult by his grace's absence on campaign. I lie awake at night worrying for his safety....wishing that he would come home to me. It's been a month since I last heard from him and I know that he mourns for William too. I wish I could be with him"

"All you can do is pray for his safety" Margaret said solemnly, though did offer Eleanor a small smile "as shall I and all in the North" taking a deep breath the Duchess smoothed out the nonexistent creases in her gown and looked over her children playing below once more before she made for the small table by the fire.

"I will find a way to find your Henry" she said, her voice steadier now as she sat down on the chaise she usually shared with Richard "and then we shall see him....it may not be for long but...." Margaret's smile grew.
"Even to see his face would be enough to last me a lifetime!" She said.