𝐈𝐍𝐍𝐎𝐂𝐄𝐍𝐓 𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐈𝐓𝐎𝐑 || 𝑻𝑯𝑬 𝑾𝑯𝑰𝑻𝑬 𝑸𝑼𝑬𝑬𝑵

𝐶ℎ𝑎𝑝𝑡𝑒𝑟 𝐿𝐼𝐼𝐼

~The Siege of Hearts and Houses~

"There, my little knight" Richard murmured as he helped his son's small hands to curl around the reins of his armoured destrier. The sun shone high in the sky and soldiers in murrey and blue liveries rushed all around them, waiting for their King to emerge and lead them from the Tower walls. Swords were sheathed and pikes polished, their sharpened tips shining maliciously in the daylight.

Richard had taken the opportunity his brother's unpunctual nature provided to spend his last few moments in London with his son. Little Henry had always held a fascination with horses, liking to run his hands through their manes and his Father was eager to teach him how to ride one.

He longed for the day he could take his son for his first hunt, bestow on him his very first steed and though it would be a few years until he was able to do that, he still propped the boy up in front of him. Holding his soft body safely against his armoured chest, he smiled at Henry's excited giggles, adjusting his little fingers again so that he held the destrier's reins properly.

His hands were so small beneath his own, his skin still soft and warm as it had been when he was a newborn. The day he'd come into the world had been the happiest of Richard's life, of that he was sure. To see his beloved wife with their son in her arms had given him the greatest joy, a joy he wished to feel again and hoped that one day soon, he would.

"Pretty horsey, Papa" Henry said, bouncing up and down in the saddle in an imitation of trotting that made his Father grin; kiss the top of his downy head.
"One day soon you shall have one of your own" He told him "The horse of a fine Prince. Prince Henry of York, Earl of Rutland!"

"Henny York" Henry repeated quietly, his head quickly turning at the sound of heavy boots on the Tower cobblestones "Uncle Neddy!" He squealed, promptly dropping the reins he held and trying to throw himself from the horse so that Richard had to quickly grab him, holding him back.

Edward's lips split into a wide grin and he strode forward to greet his young nephew, whisking the boy easily into his arms.
"How are you lad?" He asked as Henry climbed onto his shoulders, fisting his hands in Edward's golden hair.

"Well, Uncle" He replied and Richard nodded his approval, dismounting from the destrier to clap his brother on the arm in greeting.
"You're late" He teased and Edward arched an eyebrow, glancing up when Henry gave one particularly hard tug to his hair, not seeming to realise the golden curls were attached to his head.
"I am allowed to spend time with my wife before I go to war am I not?"

"You are" An amused voice answered and the two sons of York turned to see Catherine sauntering towards them, garbed in a gown of light pink with elegant hanging sleeves that were so long they swept the ground "Trying to turn my boy into a soldier already brother?" She asked, grinning at the sight of her son making the King's shoulders his own little throne.