- 𝐹𝑜𝑟𝑒𝑣𝑒𝑟 𝑚𝑎𝑦 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑟𝑒𝑖𝑔𝑛 -
It's the year 1464 and Eleanor Woodville lives at Grafton Manor as one of the younger daughters of Jacquetta and Sir Richard Woodville. At 11 years old, her worries are little and her joys great but her o...
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~Harry~
There was an air of tension as the court began to arrive at Fotheringhay in preparation for Christmas. The rumours of rebellion spread like wildfire and the uneasy glances that the courtiers cast at one another reminded Eleanor of the looks that had been seen daily during 1477 and 1478.
Hushed whispers flew from ear to ear, between the nobles, between the servants of the King and Queen's household, throughout the entire country until 'rebellion' was the only word on everyone's lips. Now soldiers were posted at every port in England, extra fortifications were added to London's gates to secure it while the Royals were away and to ensure the Princes and Elizabeth had no chance of escaping the Tower.
Another attack on the fortress while they were away from the capital was something the King and Queen could not risk. After all, what if the next attack succeeded? Then they would have to weather possibly two rebellions. The country could not take it.
Eleanor's heart still stung from the betrayal of Margaret and when alone she had found herself often shedding tears over her broken friendship and the broken trust that lay between she and her former Lady.
She blamed herself. Blamed herself for being so naive where Margaret was concerned. 'You didn't know!' Jane and Anais told her 'She tricked you like them traitor she is!' Richard reassured her when she cried in his arms 'it is not your fault!' But she still blamed herself.
'I should've known!' Her mind screamed 'she's a Lancastrian and always have been! You were the one that let her enter your heart and trust! You were the one who let her put the country in danger! You were the one who was blind!'
Two weeks after Margaret's banishment from court to her home, Eleanor's sadness had steadfastly turned to anger and fierce resentment and she found her fists curling around the soft crimson silk she was sewing to make a Christmas gown for little Adela.
She was sitting in front of the fire in the solar, the soft glow lighting her needle and thread and was surrounded by friends. Usually this atmosphere would have calmed her but now the silence that was broken only by the occasional rustle of material grated her nerves to shreds and allowed thoughts to swarm her mind.
It's your fault It's your fault It's your fault
"Oh for God's sake!" She cried, flinging down her work and standing from her chair, making her ladies jump as they looked up from their work. Turning away, Eleanor strode to the nearest window and leant against the wall, pressing a hand to her forehead as she tried to calm herself. A moment later she felt Jane's hand on her shoulder and looked to the side to see the redhead standing next to her.
"It's not your fault" Jane said gently "and no one blames you for it" "I think Richard might" Eleanor mumbled "he's always disapproved of my friendship with Margaret and now he has been proved right in his suspicions and dislike! It's a miracle he's not dancing a jig" Jane shook her head, her ringlets bobbing around her face.
