Kingmaker

For Them #1

Several days after the meeting with King Edward, Ava had woken alone to try and take her horse out. It had been days since she'd ridden, but with broken ribs that were slowly healing, she really needed to take it easy. But that was easier said than done, and she felt as thought she had to get back in the saddle. Not for her. But for the sake of her men who had seen her at her best, and her worst. She had to show them that she was still fighting and that she hadn't given up. She had to show them that she wasn't backing down after one serious injury. Her army looked up to her. And she had to prove to them that injuries weren't the end. And that there would always be some fight left in those that are wounded. It worked both ways too. A York man can be cut down, but he will get back up. Just like a Lancastrian would. It wasn't over. Till it was really over.
With a cringe of pain, Ava made her way from her the bedroom she shared with her husband, Sir Richard Neville. The knight still dozing as she had left the room. As she walked, she kept an arm across her ribs; feeling the dull ache and throb of the cracked bones and bruises. She still felt nauseous, and occasionally, she felt faint. Feeling as though she would fall at any minute. This time, her injuries had knocked her about quite a bit, and she was definitely feeling the effects the more she moved. Pushing the pain to the back of her mind, she exited the castle. Stepping out into the misty morning, her breath catching the air in faint plumes of white. She sighed, a chilly morning meant the ground would be hard, and her horse would be moody.
Deciding against her original plans, she silently walked to where her son lay between two of her soldiers. She had since stopped crying for her son, but her heart still ached. Maybe someday she and Sir Richard would have another baby. But right now, the risks were far too great, and York already had much to hold against them. "I hope my soldiers are protecting you up there, Llane. They're fine gentlemen, and great soldiers" she sighed, mostly to herself as she pulled a few roses from a nearby flower bed, dropping one onto each of the three graves. "You're a Lancastrian through and through Llane... You always were. There's not an inch of York in your blood..." she sighed again, once more speaking mostly to herself.
Sir George had too woken early. He had managed to remain out of Ava's sight, but he had heard what she had said. And he couldn't help but be curious on what she meant now. "Is it not too early for you, Ava?" he asked softly, his voice almost a whisper. He watched Ava turn to him with her arms wrapped around her; "It is. I planned to take Khal out for a ride, but it seems the ground is too hard yet. So I visited Llane instead" her voice had lowered as she spoke once more of Llane. She still missed him dearly. And she had every right to. He was her first son, and he had been torn away by York.
Sir George nodded in silence for a moment as he walked to her, standing at her side for a moment. "I see your soldiers bringing flowers sometimes. Some of your men were close to Llane, weren't they? You have a fine army, Ava. Some of the best men I've seen. They're lucky to have you as their commander. Though you don't like that name, do you?" he spoke softly, knowing that Ava never used the term 'commander'. She saw herself as an equal to her men, and never placed herself on a pedestal above them.
They stood in silence for a moment before Sir George spoke once more. "What did you mean, Ava? When you said Llane was Lancastrian through and through? That there was no York in his blood?" he had to tread carefully here asking such risky questions. But he needn't worry. Ava directed her gaze downwards for a moment. "I was born in Lancaster. It is a very long story, and it's very confusing. I still don't understand it myself. My mother said I was born in Lancaster. Baptised on Lancastrian soil by a priest who was a devout Lancastrian. She said the man knew where my mother was from, and in silence, or in a murmur, he baptised me for Lancaster. I was never a true Yorkist. I merely followed until I was able to flee and take control of my own life. I may be York by blood of family. But I'm not York in God's eyes. Neither is Llane. My boy is Lancastrian. And so am I. My parents will be angry that I have spoken of this. Once more I have broken a vow of silence on a topic. But what can York do to me now. They can punish me all they like. Nothing will match the pain of losing a child..." she remained quiet for a moment. Seeming to be deep in thought. "Do I get revenge, George? Do I take two men with me to take a life of York? Or should I not stoop to their level... What do I do, George? What do I do..."
Sir George watched her for a moment, thinking. This was a lot of information to take in. But then again, he knew from the start that there was something different about her compared to other Yorkists. He had no idea she was born in Lancaster, but it would explain the Lancastrian accent she had. It was more prounounced now than ever. But he had to answer her questions, and could dwell on other things later. "Don't stoop to their level. If you do that, it gives them a way to attack you on an emotional level. They will know that by taking away someone you love, they can spark a reaction from you in the same way. They will just keep repeating the action until you have no one left. Think of Richard, Ava. He loves you with all of his heart. I've not seen him so happy as when he looks at you. Keep him safe, and he will keep you safe. Go back to bed, Ava. Stay with Richard today. It's cold, and a storm is said to be headed for us soon. Go on" once again, he spoke softly, walking with her now back into the castle and out of the mist and wind. Ava thanked Sir George with a gentle hug, one friend to another. She owed the man a lot. He was the godfather to Llane, and he would be the godfather to any future children. Sir George was one of her closest friends. He was family. She was glad it was him that had overheard and not anyone else. Sir Richard would've been fine too. But there were some things best kept between family, and this was one of those things for now.
In silence, she crept back into the bedroom. Kicking off her boots and her cloak, before crawling back into bed. Snuggling close to Sir Richard once more as he gently pulled her close. He was awake, but he'd remain in the warmth of the covers for her. She had been gone around an hour, hour and a half maybe. Her fingers were icy cold as a result.
He held her close, her hands trapped gently against his chest; warming them. It was a simple thing, but it was definitely appreciated by her; and him. It reminded him that she was still ok.

[Authors Note: I'm back after a few days off! Zombie Walk, lack of sleep, I've been sick and I've been babysitting. All since Thursday! I would've updated on Friday, but I had to babysit unexpectedly. Saturday was the Zombie Walk and I was just too tired when I got home, and Sunday I was babysitting again. I finally had time today, but now I'm tired again. It's been a long weekend.
Anyway! How about that from Ava? She was baptised on Lancastrian soil, and the priest baptised her for Lancaster without her parents knowing! Do you think there's more to it than Ava knows? Are the parents she grew up with her real parents? I'm still deciding myself! But keep reading!]