~If I Die Today~

Eleanor's green eyes filled with sadness as she watched John move around his tent, now alight with lanterns. He was stood at a small table, pouring two goblets of wine with a frown etched onto his face. He was clearly in conflict with himself, his heart telling him to do one thing and his mind the other.

He'd been pacing up and down in silence for around half an hour prior while Eleanor watched him from where she was perched on the edge of his bed. As he passed her one of the goblets, he sat down beside her giving her half a smile before he took a sip of wine, fingers drumming gently against the side of his cup.

"Why did you come?" He asked at last and his friend let out a relived sigh that he had spoken.
"To ask you to return to York" she answered, not truly knowing the reason why she had decided to sneak into the enemy camp until that moment.

"I can't..." he began, about to rise and pace again only for Eleanor to place a hand on his arm, bringing him back down to her side.
"You can" she whispered and watched as tears filled his eyes, though he tried desperately to keep them at bay "Edward would welcome you back....Richard would welcome you back...."

"You call him Richard now?" John asked with a small laugh, nodding his head "I take it that your relationship has improved since we last met then?" Eleanor nodded and he chuckled a little, though it sounded less than halfhearted as if he truly could not feel joy anymore "I remember when he first came to Middleham" he murmured, staring at the ground "a terrified boy of ten who had already seen exile, a father and brother killed, he seemed afraid of his own shadow though he was determined not to show it....but those times are gone now"

"Tell me of them" Eleanor requested, leaning back against the pillows a little, sensing a way to help her case. If she could stir up memories of the past, perhaps she could sway his mind? "Go on" she prompted, tilting her head as he hesitated a little, looking at her before nodding, letting out a large sigh.

"I was the first one to take him under my wing" he started quietly "before my brother....but he was not an easy boy to coax into the light....he had the will to fight, none could deny that....he was always stubborn, from the moment he arrived. Once he decided on something, there was none who could sway him....but eventually I managed to get him into the training yard. He was small for his age, looked around only six and barely came up to my waist" John smiled slightly, holding up an arm to demonstrate little Richard's height "I called out his name so that he would know where I was but I remember he simply stood where he was, folding his arms and declaring with all the confidence in the world that he was called Dickon!"

"Really?" Eleanor exclaimed with a quiet laugh, drawing her knees up to her chest as John nodded.

"And after that that's what we all called him by!" He continued "he didn't respond to 'your grace' or any of the titles that befitted a Duke. He was simply Dickon. And by God, Dickon was the most determined little warrior I ever did meet! He could barely lift a sword at first but he never gave up, never once threw down the blade in a fit of rage or annoyance as George did, he never gave up, not even when my brother and I told him that it was enough for the day! As I said, he was extremely stubborn! And always has been! He worked at something until it was perfect and through the years we began to see his sense of loyalty show. It was always to my brother first, then to me. He looked up to Warwick like a son looks up to his father....and I believe my brother loved Dickon like a son....I think a part of him still does for he never had a son of his own...." John paused a little, sighing as he looked at Eleanor "I always wonder which will get him killed first, his loyalty or his stubbornness....they are so strong within him that I can see no other way he would meet death"

"That I can understand" the Duchess murmured absentmindedly, now completely enthralled by the tale of her husband's boyhood "I like his loyalty, it is simply his stubbornness that can send me into a rage!"

"Aye" John conceded "I see why that would happen....but it has created a leader of him! By the time he was fourteen he was the leader of all the henchmen of Middleham! Even the older ones followed his commands which I had never seen before and never will again, he never truly seemed that young to them I suppose. He was mature beyond his years, not because he chose it but because he had been forced to. But the others didn't know that....and he didn't tell them. He never spoke of his feelings to anyone....apart from me sometimes or Francis and Robb....to anyone else he appeared a rather serious lad who was handy with a sword and battle axe and who's loyalty to my brother and the King was unbreakable"

A sudden knock rapped on the tent and John jumped up as Warwick's voice called out.
"Johnny? Are you in there? I need to speak to you about something?"

"Shit!" John hissed, putting his goblet on the side table "hold on a minute, Richard!" He looked to Eleanor, who was clearly alarmed and jumped from the bed, looking to see if there was some form of exit from the back of the tent; cursed when she found none "under the bed!" Her friend suddenly whispered, pushing her to the floor far from gently and pulling up the heavy covers so that she could roll under the wooden frame before he replaced them and snatched up his goblet again, calling for his brother to enter.

Eleanor refused to breathe as she heard Warwick enter the tent, gripping her gown with one hand and her necklace with the other.

"I half suspected you had a whore in here!" Her enemy joked as he sat down in a chair and John shook his head.
"You know I would never betray Isabel" he corrected sternly and his brother held up his hands in surrender "....are you ready for the battle? Do you not find it strange that...."

"The question is, are you?" Warwick interrupted, his expression suddenly suspicious as he looked at his younger brother. John had stayed loyal to Edward for the first rebellion, had only deflected to him once he had lost his wealth and his power. Would he truly stand with him when the fighting began? "You are my brother, John, and I do not mean to question you but I know that you still hold some affinity for York, to Dickon if not to Edward" he sighed slightly, making Eleanor frown "ah, dear Dickon....my son"

"I knew you still cared for him" John murmured and Warwick nodded, shrugging a little.

"I....always will" he admitted "I cannot help that he is so loyal to his brother....after all, I was the one that raised him to harbour such loyalty. But still, I won't deny I was affected by his refusal to stand with me...." As quickly as it had appeared, the open and emotional expression that betrayed pain and sadness was swept away and the suspicious facade returned "but you will, won't you, Johnny"

"I've come this far" John replied as he downed the remaining contents of his goblet, though he knew his brother would not be satisfied with such a dubious answer "we are Nevilles" he decided to say, reaching out to lay a hand on his brother's shoulder "and we stand together"

Warwick smiled a little at that and gave his brother a short nod before standing and walking to the entrance to the tent, pulling back the fabric.
"See you on the field, Johnny" he said quietly before leaving and Eleanor finally allowed herself to breathe normally once more, her chest heaving as her lungs burned.

Rolling out from under the bed, she wobbled slightly as she stood, smoothing out the creases in her gown.
"Well well" she muttered, looking at John "I did not know your brother was capable of feelings other than hate!"

She said the words in jest but inside, she had truly been struck by what Warwick had said and found herself puzzling over his affection for Richard. She knew she would never understand it fully but it gave her greatest enemy a human side to him; something Eleanor wished there wasn't.

"You have only seen the malicious tendencies he holds" John replied "I grew up with him....he may despise your family and has done unforgivable things as a result....but I know a different side to him....a different side completely...."

"Will you not fight for York?" Eleanor whispered, taking his hands in her own "you did say yourself it is where your heart lies"

"Edward has taken everything from me" He answered miserably "he knew how much the Earldom meant to me....to my family....I showed nothing but loyalty to him....and he took my life away...." The Duchess slowly nodded, taking a deep breath and closing her eyes before she found the courage to form the words that whirled around in her mind.

"It was my sister" she admitted quietly "Edward was not the one to take the earldom it was the Queen....my sister who orchestrated it all.... because you are a Neville....and therefore, she thought, our enemy...."

"Oh god" John groaned, sharply jerking away and leaning on the table, bowing his head "oh God, Eleanor...."
"Will you fight for York?" She asked again, desperately, tears filling her eyes as uncontrollable ones began to run down John's cheeks "please, John...."

"I will....for Christ's sake if you want me too then I will....because I want to do it. To fight for York...."

Eleanor let out a gasp before she flung her arms around John's neck, hugging him tightly and thanking him over and over, trying to contain her joy. "I won't attack straight away" he said "I will wait until the battle is going to turn my troops around" his voice became quiet as a sad frown came over his face "and betray my own brother on the field"

"For the rightful King of this country!" Eleanor said "if I had known all it took to turn you was the truth of my sister's malicious intent then...."
"Don't speak of that bitch to me" John suddenly hissed, making the Duchess's mouth form an 'o' of utter shock before her loyalty to her sister made her speak.

"And do not ever call the Queen by that name in my presence" she returned, before looking around as the tent began to lighten a bit with the rising sun "let us not part on bad words"
"I agree with that" John replied, his expression softening as he reached out and embraced Eleanor, with her returning the hug in full before she stepped back and saluted him with a relived grin.

"Best of luck to you, John" she said with a nod, about to exit the tent before he called after her, drawing a letter from his sleeve.
"Take this" he said earnestly, pressing it into her hand "read it if I die, burn it if I do not....do you understand?"

Nodding, though rather confused, the Duchess tucked the letter into her belt before she turned and ran, praying to the Lord that she would not be caught....and that John would keep his word.

꧁꧂

Eleanor knelt on the ground, her fingers running through the green grass beneath them as she watched the armies gather in the distance. Unlike before, she was now far far away from the camp, had ridden Apollo to nearly a record gallop in order to get there on time and without being seen.

She could see the York standard being raised on one side, the Lancastrian and Neville standard on the other.
'Please John' she prayed as she watched the Griffin banner raise high into the air before she closed her eyes and tilted her head up to the sky, holding her hands high above her head.

'For while it has not been before seen, lay a mist upon this field of green. Obscure the vision of those who defy the king and let the souls of his enemy's now take wing'

She called, with as much strength as she could muster, placing all of her power into her words and her mind, taking slow deep breaths as she detached herself from the living world and felt her magic being woven into the fabric of the universe.

Eleanor opened her eyes as she felt the icy hand of a cold mist gently caressed her cheek and her eyes widened in wonder and pride as she saw the thick blanket of mist that had settled before her.

It was enough to conceal the Yorkist advance, she was sure of that and hoped that it would prove an advantage to them for mere minutes later she could hear the agonised cries of dying men and knew that the fighting had begun.

"Almighty God, keep Richard, John, Edward.... and....George safe from harm in this battle, keeping them in your care until the bloodshed is at an end" She prayed aloud before closing her eyes again and taking the pendant from around her neck and holding it in her hands, close to her chest as she repeated the curse that lay inside.

Eleanor stayed there until the screams and cries of dying men, that would stay with her for the rest of her life, slowly quietened before the field fell silent and then a roar of victory rang out that was almost deafening.

Rising and dashing to the tree where Apollo was tied, patting his nose comfortingly, she detached the reins from the branches and mounted him, nudging him into a gallop.