The Last York Prince [AU]

The Birth of A Prince

SOMETIME BETWEEN MID TO LATE AUGUST 1485:

Lizzie could hear her baby, crying as her mother, Dowager Queen Elizabeth Woodville took the newborn and bathed it. Her mother was smiling and Lizzie knew the gender of the baby.

"It's a boy! Praise the Lord, we have a prince!", said Elizabeth Woodville.

Immediately, Lizzie felt a sting of pain. Her son would be a threat to the throne to the new king. There was no way he was allowed to be alive.

"What shall we name him?", asked her sister, Cecily.

Elizabeth Woodville looked at her first born daughter and saw the pain in her eyes. They were worried of the fate of this newborn.

"Richard...", Lizzie could only utter before breaking down in tears.

"What will happen to him?", asked Cecily.

Before Elizabeth Woodville could answer, the door was burst open and Henry Tudor entered with his uncle, Jasper and mother, My Lady The King's Mother, Margaret Beaufort. Elizabeth Woodville kept the child hidden in her arms.

"Well?", asked Margaret Beaufort.

Henry saw his soon to be wife in tears and he knew of the baby's gender. He held out his hands to his soon to be mother-in-law.

"Give him to me", said Henry.

Lizzie tried to get up, but couldn't. Her energy was drained from birthing her son and she only wanted to keep him safe.

"What will you do to him?", asked Cecily.

"The boy will be sent to the country..., where we will forget him", Margaret Beaufort suggested.

"No! He is a prince! He cannot be raised in such places!", said Elizabeth Woodville.

"Is he? I was under the assumption that he was born out of wedlock", Margaret Beaufort had a smug on her face, fully knowing why the old king decided to do what needs to be done.

"Please..., my boy...", Lizzie begged to hold her son, but Elizabeth Woodville knew, if she moved, they will snatch the baby from her.

Jasper saw the pain in Lizzie's eyes. He whispered something to his nephew, who nodded. At the same time, the newborn began to wail - hungry.

"I will leave you ladies to attend to the boy. I will return later to decide his fate", said Henry.

Before Margaret could protest, Henry left the room with Jasper. With no choice, she too left the room.

Breathing a sigh of relief, Elizabeth Woodville gently handed the newborn to his mother. Lizzie pushed her shift down one shoulder and her son began to feed eagerly.

"He can't stay here", Cecily whispered.

"Where else can he go? The Tudors have already taken my boys. This child is our only hope to get back what is ours!", said Elizabeth Woodville.

Elizabeth Woodville has laid a curse - whoever killed her sons, their firstborn sons shall die and their line will end with a barren girl. If it's true that Tudors had her sons killed, then, Lizzie's line will end with a girl, but..., if Richard was the one who did it..., then, her son.... No! Not her Little Richard!

Lizzie drowned out her mother and sister. She watched as Richard, named after his father, fed on her breast. She stroke his pink cheeks. He had so much of his father's features - skin, hair and eyes. Richard will be the constant reminder of the man she once loved.

Henry returned much later and was alone this time. He bowed before Elizabeth Woodville.

"May I have a word with your daughter, alone?", he asked.

Elizabeth Woodville would've said no, but she was no longer in power. Henry was and as king, he can simply snapped his finger and ordered her death. Not now, not when Richard was still a helpless babe.

Elizabeth Woodville bowed before Henry. She took one look at Lizzie and Richard before walking out.

Henry sat down on the bed. He tried to approach the newborn, but Lizzie quickly held Richard closer to her.

"I will not hurt him", said Henry.

Lizzie couldn't risk to anger the new king, for what he might do to her poor child. Slowly, she set Richard on her lap.

Henry took one look and it pained him to know that this boy will grow up and not knowing his father's love. He knew how that feel and he had done the same to this poor, helpless child.

"What's his name?", asked Henry, although he had an inkling about the name.

"Richard", said Lizzie.

Henry chuckled, not that he was surprised. He stroke the boy's cheek and a small smile formed on his lips.

"Please, Henry. I will marry you. Just..., don't hurt him. He's not a threat", said Lizzie, pleading for her son's life.

"Did you marry him?", asked Henry.

"No", Lizzie tried to be as convincing as she could.

Henry studied his soon to be bride. He knew Lizzie and Richard III had been intimated or at least that was the gossip he heard.

"I will allow him to live. You will be my wife, my queen and the mother of our children. I will allow him to live with one condition", said Henry.

"What is it? Name it", said Lizzie, desperately.

"He can never acknowledge you as his mother", said Henry.

Lizzie felt as if he had torn her heart out of her. Lizzie gathered Richard in her arms once more, holding him close for she will never have this chance once she marries Henry.

"I will give you until morning to be with him", said Henry.

"No! He needs me!", Lizzie pleaded.

"You cannot be seen with him. The sooner he detaches from you, the better", said Henry before leaving the room.

Lizzie held her son closer, crying. Elizabeth Woodville came running in, upon hearing the verdict of her grandson's fate.

Lizzie didn't sleep. She held her son, not wanting to waste a single moment with him. Henry walked in with his mother, uncle and Maggie, Lizzie's cousin.

"The king has decided that the bastard will stay with his kinsmen until he's old enough to be sent to the church", said Margaret Beaufort.

Maggie held her anger back. How dare they call him a bastard? Maggie will teach him who his father was, but for now, she must not show any emotion.

Maggie sat down on the bed and held out her arms. "I promise I'll care for him", she said.

"Thank you, Maggie", said Lizzie as she gave a final kiss to her son.

Maggie cradled her cousin in her arms. She's now Tudor's prisoner, just as much as the child in her arms. She rose from the bed and was escorted away.