~Heartbreak of Barnet~

The Tower of London, 14th of April 1470....

"It was a York victory!" Anthony cried triumphantly as he strode through the door, a large smile on his face "Warwick is dead! Edward is almost secure on his throne once more!"

"Warwick is dead?" Elizabeth exclaimed before her eyes began to glisten with victory and she laughed, falling to her knees and crossing herself, though Eleanor knew that she was really thinking of Melusina instead of God "Warwick is dead!" She repeated with glee as she rose "he's dead, Leena, did you not hear!"

"I did!" Eleanor replied, giggling as her older sister hugged her tightly.
"Thank you!" She whispered "thank you ever so much....and what of George, brother? Is that traitor dead too?" Anthony shook his head and Elizabeth sighed, her spirits depleting a little as she touched the pendant Eleanor had returned to her "well" she said with a small shrug "not all of our magic is able to work at once"

"Magic?" Anthony repeated, raising an eyebrow as he threw his cloak onto a nearby chair "I do hope you two have not been dabbling in mother's arts!"

"You know we have!" The Queen replied "and why should we do any different!"
"We are the daughter's of Melusina" Eleanor continued, playing with the charm around her neck that she had retrieved from under the bedchamber pillow at the Abbey before she went to the Tower "it is our right to use our magic as we see fit. And using it to give two traitors what they deserve I think is justified!"

"Well said!" Elizabeth said with an approving nod before she began to beam again and clapped her hands in excitement "now, I am going to find my little Princesses! And my little Prince!"

As she swept from the room, her sister watched after her until she was gone before she allowed her bright smile to falter a little, approaching her brother.
"A-and John?" She asked quietly, making Anthony turn to her and raise an eyebrow in genuine confusion.

"John?" He repeated, frowning "John Neville, do you mean?" She clutched at the folds of blue silk that made her gown and nodded hesitantly, dreading the sympathetic expression that settled on his face, making her turn away as the truth began to weigh on her. For her brother's earnest look and dark eyes could only mean one thing.

"He's dead....isn't he?" She whispered, shaking her head before turning back around and peering up at her brother with her heart pounding in her ears "answer me, Anthony....is John dead"

Anthony nodded slowly, before he looked up as a stifled sob shook his little sister's shoulders and he pulled her gently into his arms, finding tears filling his eyes as she wept against his doublet. Eleanor clawed at the fabric beneath her fingers, shaking her head as the death of her friend whirled around and around in her head.

"What happened?!" She cried to herself before shoving her brother away and rushing to the other side of the chamber, leaning against the ledge of a window with her head in her hands.

"What happened?!" She repeated "he shouldn't be dead....Warwick maybe" another sob tore from her throat as Anthony's hand came to rest on her shoulder, gently squeezing in comfort "but not John!" Pressing her sleeves to her eyes, she tried to stem the flow of scorching tears that refused to relent in streaming down her face.

"Did he at last fight for York?" She demanded suddenly, turning to face her brother "tell me he did Anthony....he promised me!"

Anthony shook his head. Eleanor went silent.

"He promised me" she whispered, her eyes a mix of glistening green and bloodshot red that displayed her grief. She stared out of the window that overlooked the Tower gatehouse, towards the city and the deep blue waters of the Thames that lapped slowly at the shore.

"Richard" she gasped as she saw his standard fluttering in the breeze next to the King's, the three sons of York had returned. In a flash she was gone from the window, hearing the heavy gates to the fortress open with an undeniable creak, a hand keeping her steady upon the cold stone wall as she ran down the spiral staircase that would lead out to the green.

But when she reached her intended destination, her husband was not there. His horse was being led away by a squire and his cloak and helmet in the hands of a young page.
"You there!" she called out, trying to hide the urgency in her voice, dabbing at her eyes again as the boy stopped and bowed to her.

"Your grace" he said, looking up with wide eyes at the woman before him, her eyes glistening with tears and her red hair unbound, flowing in bright curls down to her waist and her chest rising and falling at an alarming rate until something seemed to register in her mind and emotion seemed to instantly flooded from her face.

"Where is my husband?" She demanded, her voice suddenly clear and calm as she drew herself up slightly and clasped her hands together, a mask to hide her thoughts and feelings settling on her face. She tilted her head a little, offering him a kind smile that prompted him to answer.

"I believe his grace the Duke went to his chambers, your grace" he said before bowing as the Duchess waved her hand in dismissal and made her way back to the Tower.

Taking slow breaths, she walked with her head held high and her features devoid of expression, even as she reached inside and raised the hem of her gown to walk back up the stairs, her steps composed and measured.

As she went, she silently chided herself for appearing in such a state in front of a servant or any other and made herself promise she would not put on such a display again. The news of John's death still struck at her heart, she could feel it, sharp pains seemingly stabbing at her mind and body, though she swore that she would not let that show in public.

Approaching Richard's newly arranged chamber, she nodded as another page bowed to her and stepped aside for her to enter before closing the door softly, leaving the Duke and Duchess alone.

Richard was lying on the bed, staring up at the canopy above him. Eleanor could see that there were tears escaping the corners of his eyes, though there were no other traces of distress apart from his silence as she moved forward.

"Richard?" She asked, kneeling beside him taking his hand before his blue eyes flicked to hers and a ghost of a smile flitted across his lips while he sat up.
"Sweetheart" he whispered, cupping her cheek with a hand and kissing her, drawing her into his arms as his tongue gently touched hers, eliciting a soft moan form her before he abruptly pulled away, sitting to the side of the bed with his back turned to her "I'm glad to see you" he said slowly.

"As I am to see you" Eleanor replied, moving to sit beside him, taking one of his hands "I'm sorry for Warwick...."
"You are not" The Duke mumbled with a shake of his head "you hated him more than most.... though I don't blame you....I'm surprised you are not jumping for joy"

"I wouldn't do that...." his wife replied "I won't deny I hated him....I did....but I know you cared for him, that he cared for you...." she stopped in shock as Richard suddenly turned to her, wrapping his arms around her as he began to sob into her chest.

"It's not just Warwick!" He cried as Eleanor began to comb her fingers though his hair in a hope to calm him down, kissing his forehead while she felt tears begin to flood down her cheeks again, only just then registering the alarming presence of bandages wrapped his arm beneath his shirt. He had been injured. "what about John! John was not supposed to die....he was going to fight for York! I know it! Why else would he be wearing our colours under his armour?!"

"What?!" Eleanor exclaimed, slightly yanking on her husband's hair to make him look up at her.
"John....wore the colours of York under his armour?!" Richard sniffed a little before he nodded miserably, beginning to wipe his eyes with the sleeve of his doublet as he sat up.

"Yes...." he whispered "he was going to fight for us....I know it....his heart was for York..."
"I agree" the Duchess conceded, though a new wave of grief was looming over her at this revelation "he swore to me he would and he was going too!"

A relived smile appeared on her lips and a mix of a laugh and a sob escaped her as she began to pace across the chamber while her husband watched her in bewilderment "I visited him!" She said quickly, though more to herself than to the Duke "and convinced him....well he decided he would fight for York! He said he would! He told Warwick he would fight for him but he was going to fight for us!"

"You spoke to John?!" Richard asked as he caught Eleanor's wrist, pulling her back to him so that she stood between his legs. Nodding, she reached out to him and began to trace the outline of the bandages keeping his injury hidden from her.

"I heard Warwick speak too" she said softly, wondering weather to tell Richard what had been said about him as she watched a pained look cross his face at the mention of his old mentor "h-he called you his...."

"His what?" Richard asked as he looked up, his eyes shining with despair and unsaid tears, memories long gone from the world and from time.
"His dear son" she answered, reaching out to embrace him as he bowed his head, leaning his forehead against the bodice of her gown until his arms slid around her waist and he looked up at her with a sad smile.
"So that is two fathers I have lost in one lifetime"

꧁꧂

Five days later Eleanor stood beside her sister, watching with emotionless eyes, her fingers twisted in the black ribbon that held her curse, as the three remaining sons of York strode towards the body of Warwick which was placed on a slab of stone in the middle of Westminster abbey.

He was dressed in his armour, his hands around the hilt of his freshly polished sword which was placed on top of him. His face was as pale as the stone that he lay on, his eyes that always held such wickedness and animosity in them towards the Woodvilles, closed forever.

The Kingmaker was dead. Always to be remembered as a traitor who turned against his King, his achievements and loyal victories in his lifetime forgotten for the turbulent end to his tale. His greatest failure.

Eleanor watched as her husband walked into the abbey with his two brothers, his face grim, as were theirs. Together they went to Warwick's side, clasping their hands in front of them as they stared at his lifeless body.

"His head should be torn off and skewered on the Tower Gates for all to see....that's the only way to punish traitors" George remarked, folding his arms and looking at his former ally in disgust.
"Bit rich, George" Eleanor quipped with a shake of her head "even for you, or have you forgotten who stood with the traitor you want to parade for all to see?"

She felt Elizabeth glance at her, a small smirk on her lips, her love for his sister's words clear as she then looked to Jacquetta who did not react.
"What was that, Leena?" George asked as he turned to raise his eyebrows at her, in a playful manner that Richard refused to accept.

"You went against us" he muttered "down on your knees for Warwick when he thought he could make you King..."
"Richard" Edward scolded, staring ahead of him as George turned with an amused grin on his lips. "you would rather your dear wife saw her father carved up and sent on a tour of England?"

The three turned to where Isabel was weeping, a sodden handkerchief screwed up in her first.
"No" George grunted, rolling his eyes, making Eleanor and his brothers sigh "obviously" he added, rather reluctantly.

Edward gave a short nod, turning back to Warwick and bowing his head slightly, Richard following suit.
"We are here to honour one of the finest warriors England has ever known" he said solemnly "he fought with our father and we all would be nothing without him" George scoffed and rolled his eyes again.

"He may have been only an 'in-law' to you, dear George, but he was like a brother to us" Richard hissed before his voice wobbled a little "and a father to me" he whispered, making his brother laugh "we must remember him for the hero he was and not the traitor he became....and besides, we are not savages"

"We were just the ones who put him to the sword a touch excessively, no?...."

"George" Eleanor reprimanded sharply, moving from her sister's side to his before lowering her voice slightly "remember where you are....for heaven's sake have a little respect or leave! I may have hated Warwick and I still do....but I am still able to refrain from scorn and laughter so I think you can do the same!"

"Exactly what we are all thinking" Edward said with a grateful nod in his sister in law's direction as she walked over to Richard, leaning her head against his shoulder when he took her hand.

"Let us leave" he murmured after a while and the two left the abbey, Elizabeth briefly glancing after them before she wrapped her hand around her locket once more.