𝐸𝑑𝑔𝑒 𝑜𝑓 𝐷𝑒𝑠𝑖𝑟𝑒 || 𝑇𝐻𝐸 𝑊𝐻𝐼𝑇𝐸 𝑄𝑈𝐸𝐸𝑁

𝐶ℎ𝑎𝑝𝑡𝑒𝑟 𝑋𝑋𝑋𝐼𝐼𝐼

~If I Die Today~

Eleanor's green eyes filled with sadness as she watched John move around his tent, now alight with lanterns. He was stood at a small table, pouring two goblets of wine with a frown etched onto his face. He was clearly in conflict with himself, his heart telling him to do one thing and his mind the other.

He'd been pacing up and down in silence for around half an hour prior while Eleanor watched him from where she was perched on the edge of his bed. As he passed her one of the goblets, he sat down beside her giving her half a smile before he took a sip of wine, fingers drumming gently against the side of his cup.

"Why did you come?" He asked at last and his friend let out a relived sigh that he had spoken.
"To ask you to return to York" she answered, not truly knowing the reason why she had decided to sneak into the enemy camp until that moment.

"I can't..." he began, about to rise and pace again only for Eleanor to place a hand on his arm, bringing him back down to her side.
"You can" she whispered and watched as tears filled his eyes, though he tried desperately to keep them at bay "Edward would welcome you back....Richard would welcome you back...."

"You call him Richard now?" John asked with a small laugh, nodding his head "I take it that your relationship has improved since we last met then?" Eleanor nodded and he chuckled a little, though it sounded less than halfhearted as if he truly could not feel joy anymore "I remember when he first came to Middleham" he murmured, staring at the ground "a terrified boy of ten who had already seen exile, a father and brother killed, he seemed afraid of his own shadow though he was determined not to show it....but those times are gone now"

"Tell me of them" Eleanor requested, leaning back against the pillows a little, sensing a way to help her case. If she could stir up memories of the past, perhaps she could sway his mind? "Go on" she prompted, tilting her head as he hesitated a little, looking at her before nodding, letting out a large sigh.

"I was the first one to take him under my wing" he started quietly "before my brother....but he was not an easy boy to coax into the light....he had the will to fight, none could deny that....he was always stubborn, from the moment he arrived. Once he decided on something, there was none who could sway him....but eventually I managed to get him into the training yard. He was small for his age, looked around only six and barely came up to my waist" John smiled slightly, holding up an arm to demonstrate little Richard's height "I called out his name so that he would know where I was but I remember he simply stood where he was, folding his arms and declaring with all the confidence in the world that he was called Dickon!"

"Really?" Eleanor exclaimed with a quiet laugh, drawing her knees up to her chest as John nodded.

"And after that that's what we all called him by!" He continued "he didn't respond to 'your grace' or any of the titles that befitted a Duke. He was simply Dickon. And by God, Dickon was the most determined little warrior I ever did meet! He could barely lift a sword at first but he never gave up, never once threw down the blade in a fit of rage or annoyance as George did, he never gave up, not even when my brother and I told him that it was enough for the day! As I said, he was extremely stubborn! And always has been! He worked at something until it was perfect and through the years we began to see his sense of loyalty show. It was always to my brother first, then to me. He looked up to Warwick like a son looks up to his father....and I believe my brother loved Dickon like a son....I think a part of him still does for he never had a son of his own...." John paused a little, sighing as he looked at Eleanor "I always wonder which will get him killed first, his loyalty or his stubbornness....they are so strong within him that I can see no other way he would meet death"