~Our Elizabeth~

14th of February 1472....

A pain filled scream tore from Eleanor's throat as she squeezed Marie and Elizabeth's hands, almost crushing them in her iron, desperate grip. She had been in labour for almost a day now, waking in the middle of the night, weeping (much to Richard's alarm).

He had instantly jumped from their bed once he realised what was happening and had woken virtually the entire palace in his panic. Edward had had to shut him in the King's rooms for a while to calm him down.

At first it had been Anais and Marie that had tended to Eleanor, holding her hand and mopping her brow while she groaned and cried miserably, clutching at her belly, but now Elizabeth and Jacquetta had taken over.

Marie and Anais were still present, as was a midwife, yet the younger of the pair was now sitting in a chair, a look of pure horror on her face which had refused to leave her as soon as her eyes sighted blood. She sat by the window, torn between trying not to cry from fear and the need to help her beloved Duchess.

Marie, on the other hand, was dashing in and out fetching linen and hot water on the orders of none other than Margaret Beaufort! Lady Stafford's arrival had stunned the entire court, let alone those closest to the Duchess, and they had been shocked further when Eleanor had held out a hand to Margaret and managed a small smile of welcome that the other woman returned.

Margaret had then spent the past twelve hours rushing around and taking care of Eleanor to the best of her ability, resuming the duties of Jacquetta and any other when they felt the need for a slight rest. Now, she dipped another cloth in the cold water she had ordered and leant over the Queen to mop Eleanor's brow, murmuring words of comfort to her, while Elizabeth glanced curiously at her, visible confusion on her face.

Her attention was quickly diverted, however, when her sister began to push, tears flooding down her face, her complexion almost as red as her hair from pain and exhaustion.
"I can't do it!" Eleanor cried desperately, looking at her Mother who squeezed her hand, nodding in understanding "and I can't lose you! I won't lose you, mother!"

"What does she mean?" Elizabeth questioned, alarmed by her little sister's words as the midwife ordered for the nineteen year old to push.
"Nothing! Nothing!" Jacquetta hurriedly replied with a smile "she is just a little tired is all!"

"A little?!" Eleanor repeated indignantly as she tried to push again, screaming once more as she did so "I think I might die!"
"Not on my vatch!" Anais suddenly cried, springing from her chair and running to Marie, searching for anything she could do to help.

"Fetch linen for the baby" Margaret said with a nod "it will not be long until they are here!"
Looking around for a moment, Anais nodded in understanding and ran from the room, slamming the door shut behind her "is she always like that?" Lady Stafford asked with an arched eyebrow as Marie nodded.

"She is, my lady" she returned, glancing worriedly towards the bed only to feel Margaret's icy hand place itself on her wrist.
"Her grace will be fine" she said in a gentle, reassuring tone that served to relax Marie only a little, but that little seemed to be enough and she nodded, moving over to help the midwife as Anais returned.

"Just one more push, your grace!" The woman said and it was all Eleanor had the strength to do but nod before she lay back on the pillows and pushed for the final time, a blood curdling cry tearing from her. After a moment of blinding pain that blurred her thoughts, she suddenly found she could breathe again, and her trembling legs collapsed onto the bloodied sheets of her bed.

A baby's cry filled the room.

"It's a girl!" Margaret announced as the newborn child was handed to her and a round of relived and joyful sighs filled the room.
"You have a daughter, Leena" Jacquetta laughed, smiling from ear to ear as she kissed Eleanor's hand and forehead "a beautiful little girl!"

The Duchess began to laugh, a bright smile appearing on her face as she watched Margaret clean her child and gently wrap them in a soft blanket.
"Let us get you neat again and then you can have her" Elizabeth said with a grin, helping her sister rise a little from the pillows "what shall you call her?"

"Elizabeth" Eleanor replied, her eyes shining with love as she gazed upon the tiny bundle in Lady Margaret's arms "she shall be my Elizabeth"

꧁꧂

Eleanor smiled contently as Margaret walked over to her bed, slowly sitting down on the fresh sheets while she rocked the tiny baby in her arms.

"She reminds me a little of my Henry" she whispered and the Duchess tilted her head, observing the thin woman before her with an increasing curiosity.

"Is he still lost to you?" She asked and Margaret nodded sadly.
"He is in exile" she replied, tears filling her dark blue eyes, though she tried to push them away, glad that they were alone in that moment "he has fled to Brittany with his uncle, Jasper"

"But why?" Eleanor enquired with a small frown "what has your son ever done to make him flee? Surely he must be only a boy still?"

"Your grace?" Anais called from the door and both Eleanor and Margaret looked up from the bed, their moment of confidence at an end as they saw Richard standing at the threshold to the bedchamber with an anxious look on his face, dark circles under his eyes.

"Ah, you may leave us, Lady Margaret" Eleanor said, the joy of her new babe overcoming her again as she smiled, reaching out for her child.  "and thank you, for caring for me for this past day, you have my gratitude"

"May God smile upon you and your little one" Margaret replied softly, leaning over to kiss Eleanor on the cheek before she left, curtsying to Richard as she passed and quietly shut the doors.

"We have a daughter!" Eleanor laughed, her eyes shining with happiness as she leant back against the pillows "our very own Elizabeth!"

Richard's worried expression immediately melted away, leaving only joy in his face as he walked to the bed and gazed down adoringly at his wife and child.

"Our little Bess" he whispered, almost not daring to believe his eyes as he sat down and looked into the blue ones of his daughter. She stared up at both her parents, looking curiously between them as if trying to figure out who they were before finding a way to move one of her little arms from her blankets and reach upwards.

"See" Eleanor murmured as she settled against her husband, letting Bess' fist curl around one of her fingers "she knows us"
"Bonjour, mon petit ange chéri" Richard said softly and Bess gave a small gurgle in reply, making her parents laugh "there!" He exclaimed proudly "she knows French already, as well as English!"

"She's clever" The Duchess agreed with a smile "just like her Father"
"And her Mother" her husband returned, taking her hand and gently bringing it to his lips "and soon we will go to our new home, and little Bess will grow up in the North with her brothers and sisters!"

Eleanor began to laugh again, shaking her head, though she knew that she hoped for more children.
"You have been very busy thinking!" She chuckled "and is that is what we shall call her? Bess?" Richard nodded, gently stroking his daughter's cheek, smiling at the little tuff of red hair that stuck up on her head.

"Bess" he confirmed "if you like it?"
"I do....as a matter of fact I do! And it will help us all distinguish between little Lizzie and our daughter! There are so many Elizabeth's in this family!"

The two frowned slightly as they thought, trying to count how many Elizabeth's there were in the house of York. More than enough to confuse even the cleverest, that was for certain.

A tiny wail came from the baby as she began to fuss, pursing her little red lips together, causing her to have a comical frown upon her face as she began to kick her legs. Tilting her head a little, Eleanor sat up, grimacing slightly as her body ached painfully. Feeling Richard's supporting arm around her, she slowly untied the front of her nightgown and slipped a sleeve from her arm, revealing one of her breasts.

"I don't think I ever fed Jacquetta" she mused, remembering how every two hours or so, a wet nurse would come and sweep her little baby away to feed. Yet now, she would be the one to feed her child and almost felt a nervousness inside of her as she guided Bess to her breast.

The baby immediately took to her Mother, her small cries settling as she began to suckle, using her tiny hands to support herself. A calm smile settled on Eleanor's lips as she watched her child nurse, slowly leaning back onto Richard once more.

He kissed her hair, staring at their daughter as she fed, slowly blinking while she looked at her surroundings. There was not much understanding in her expression, but there was a curiosity there all the same, one that Richard suspected would most likely carry through her childhood with many adventures exploring castles and dungeons.

He hoped beyond anything that Eleanor would be happy in the North, would be content with their little family away from the court. He knew she enjoyed the company of others, loved grand feasts and dances with onlookers and hoped that at Middleham he would be able to provide that for her.

And yet he thought that she would enjoy the quiet for a while, that it would ease her mind and worries for their child because it was clear at almost every turn that she feared for Bess' health. Each time they had talked of their babe in the months leading up to her birth there had always been an undercurrent of worry in Eleanor's voice and he knew almost for certain that it was because she feared the fate the befell Jacquetta would befall this little one too.

Richard was determined that little Bess would be in nothing but the best of health and happiness for her entire life if he had anything do to with it, which he most certainly would.

"Do you think that...." he began only for Eleanor to put a finger to his lips, nodding towards their daughter who had chosen that moment to drift away to sleep, now full. She had curled up, her little legs drawn up to her chest with her tiny hands clasped in front of her.

"It looks as if Lady Margaret has infused the Holy Spirit within her already!" Eleanor chuckled softly, manoeuvring her nightgown back onto her shoulder before she slowly turned around, lying Bess in between she and Richard. Trying to rustle the covers as little as she could, she lay down and gestured for Richard to do the same, taking his hand as they both settled against the pillows.

"You, me and little Bess" she murmured, intertwining their fingers before she gently placed their hands on top of the silken blankets that contained their little girl.

"Our family" Richard whispered, watching as the tiredness of almost a day's labour swept over his wife "now sleep, my darling. Sleep and dream of our little one playing among the roses of Middleham"

꧁꧂

April 1472....

Bess gave a small shriek of amusement as she reached up for the toy dog that Richard dangled playfully above her head. At two months old, most expected her to be a quiet little thing but Elizabeth had proven to be anything but, much like her namesake the Queen!

She was not loud in discontentment, no, her chagrin settled itself in almost comical scowls and the trembling of her lower lip, but she was loud in happiness, gurgling and giggling with a grin on her face from the time the sun rose until it had set.

Tired from the birth, as was expected though rather different from her first experience, Eleanor had stayed away from any form of court duty for all of the time since the birth and her husband had tried his best to spend every moment he could with her and their child.

He could not escape the work his numerous offices and positions held for him and, of course, the list of duties that Edward piled onto him daily, but still he could often be found in his and his wife's chambers.

Eleanor found that she took joy in watching Richard play with little Bess. He loved to whisk her out of her wooden crib and place her on blankets by the fire, tickling her and even singing to her when she became tired or agitated. She had never heard her husband sing before and so when she had heard him singing a northern tune to their baby one night, she had felt her heart fill with joy.

When he was with Bess, it seemed as if all the cares of the world lifted from his shoulders and he was free to be happy and it made his wife overjoyed to see him thus.

Though, not only did her time away from the court give her time with her husband and daughter, it also gave her time to plan out the fates of those around her.

She had managed to track down John's widow, Isabel, and family, now living in a Manor House near Northumberland and had written to her in March, offering any help that was ever needed and now hoped day after day for a reply.

She knew that she would most likely be a stranger to Isabel, perhaps once known as John's friend but most likely known as the sister of the Queen (which would not bode well). And so she had put extra emphasis on the fact that she was Richard's wife, hoping that may give the widowed marchioness a more trusting view on her.

She prayed, rather than expected for Isabel to reply to her and accept the offer of help that had been extended. Eleanor had made it clear that she would help arrange marriages for each of John's five daughters and would always protect his young son, George.

In all honesty, she was surprised the boy's wardship had not been handed to a noble family yet and he had been allowed to stay with his mother, but she knew this arrangement would not last while the land was crammed full of grasping Lords and so was determined that George would go to she and Richard if he must go to anyone at all.

"Do you think that John's son would be happy with us?" She asked from the bed and Richard looked up from Bess, thinking for a moment before he nodded.

"I hope we could treat him and love as well as we would our own son? And that he would, or will, love us, perhaps not as parents but as his close kin" He replied thoughtfully, pleased when Eleanor 'hm'd in agreement before she returned to the pile of papers she had amassed on their bed.

Picking up a scrap of parchment that had 'Anne' quickly scrawled across, she sighed to herself before she admitted that her plans with the youngest Neville girl were actually going rather well. Ever since Christmas the two had been secretly communicating through Anais and Marie (who had proved most useful in their roles as Ladies Maids) and had agreed that Anne should try and buy herself a little freedom until the time came to flee.

Of course, Anne had originally objected to the idea, horrified that she would have to comply with George's rules and demands, but Eleanor had been quick to reassure her that it would only serve to help not harm.

And Anne had obeyed.

She had begun to be seen around court again, always with her sister and her ever present ladies but she was there all the same. She was seen during hunts and a few times during feasts, reports from mainly Anais which Eleanor were most grateful for, and she hoped that Anne would continue to work her way free from her guardians.

The Duchess sat up as the door to her chamber opened and Marie rushed in, her chest heaving as she finally ended the run that had taken her halfway across the palace. Frowning, Richard lifted Bess gently from the floor and watched as his wife's lady passed her a note before curtsying and leaving in just as much hurry as she arrived.

"What is it, sweetheart?" He asked as Bess nuzzled sleepily into the crook of his neck, an unconcerned expression on her rosy face that was exactly the opposite of the one her Mother held.

"It's Anne" she murmured, visibly alarmed as she scanned the paper before her "she says George is going to take her daughter"