A Skin Shed
Theobald heaved a long breath as he once more took to his studies, the last decade had proved to be more fruitful than the last three decades as he had three new subjects of his experimentation. Though, they were of a second generation, not those that had suffered the pain of the flesh of old, but those who had inherited it…
Most died before they could produce offspring, and those that didn't were most normally mostly infertile able to produce only a single child, who normally was horribly mutated…
Theobald cared not that he had subjected Helena to such a thing, nor that what he had done should have left her infertile… As that was his intention in the first place…
Yet, time after time Helena had subverted his expectations, what he knew to be true…
Which led to Brandon, the child whom Theobald saw as the true culmination of his life's work. The book Theobald had written was naught when compared to the fruits of his labor…
Brandon was the closest thing to a God that mortal could make… A Demi—God in Theobald's eyes, the same as the Flesh of Old which brought upon his partial ascension… How close had Theobald been to creating the spark to the birth of a God…?
Theobald's fingers twitched with excitement as he read over his notes once more, the youth was growing rapidly and despite his young age had already begun to undergo puberty. From the records Theobald had been taking of Brandon's growth, the old maester projected Brandon's future stature on a separate price of parchment…
A man as tall as The Mountain, without the consequences of the same infection that had left The Mountain dull and prone to anger was what he saw of Brandon's future, and when taking into account Brandon's own diligence that he preferred to keep hidden Theobald had no doubt that he'd be as great of a warrior, as he'd be a maester, a blacksmith, a tailor, an so on…
The youth was the most similar of all the children to their Mother, with Sullivan closely following in her own steps but upon his own path. That was what was the most frightening, and in Theobald's eyes was what made the youth the most intriguing…
Theobald feared the youth ever since he was a babe, not of the present but of the future. The child was meant—destined for something much greater than mortal squabbles… To truly inherit the flesh of Azor Ahai, unlike how it was forced—butchered into Helena. The child had become one with the flesh of a God among Mortals…
Reaching into his leather satchel, Theobald retrieved a finger encased in amber…
Perhaps… Perhaps, Brandon was the one who should inherit this as well…
The Amethyst Emperess' Finger, the last known remnants of a time mostly forgotten…
One small piece of Theobald's large collection of preserved flesh from times long past… Yet, one of his most precious…
Though, none could compare to the Flesh of Origin that had come from the first 'Other'…
A precious piece he had traded a preserved heart of a leviathan to the 'Children' for… One that none could inherit for even Theobald heeded the warnings of the God—Blessed…
Though, it was a wonderful piece of research that hailed from a time when Magic was True…
Oh how he wished to see the day when Magic returned, yet he doubted he'd be capable of experiencing such a thing…
Despite his agelessness, earned through no small number of sacrifices, dark magicks, and experiments upon his own body… His mind had long begun to forget, no longer could he remember how long he had walked the land, and crossed the seas the only thing of those days that remained… Was the sight of the Second Moon shattering, and Darkness that spilled forth…
The same darkness that formed the base of the Citadel, the same darkness that the Bloodstone Emperor worshiped, the very same darkness that reduced Sorthoryos—Home to the cursed ruins that it is today… What had reduced Ulthos to nearly forgotten lands, and brought upon the being that brings the extinction of man…
Echoed memories of a shadowed, forgotten past resurfaced bringing a darkness to Theobald's eyes as he recalled that oily darkness falling from the sky in great balls of flame, streaking across the sky, shattering the earth and hiding the sky in a sea of ash and smoke…
Before it all faded away, forgotten once more, banished from a mind so old, it can hold no more…
Though, with that echoed memory's resurgence, Theobald's had forgotten some of Robert's childhood…
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As the full moon began to fall past its peak, Brandon snuck away from his room; the thankfully incompetent Kingsguard having fell asleep leaned against the wall, a bronze dagger strapped to his waist and a dark cloak veiling his figure Brandon took quiet steps down the hall his finger finding a relatively smooth brick upon the rough stone, and he pushed.
Some distance down the hall, a soft rush of wind sounded and Brandon hastened his steps entering the secret passageway and closing the secret door behind him, as he was engulfed in darkness Brandon moved with purposeful steps, having long remembered the turned and offshoots of this particular passageway, and some of those in the surroundings.
It hadn't been long before he arrived in a large room that marked the end of this particular passageway, from there he sat down…
Waiting.
For a light to shine in the darkness, a dim flickering light, one of a candle…
Brandon's heart raced as there was no sound of their steps, yet he counted from the moment he saw the light, he didn't move staying true to his Mother's lessons, Brandon was patient as he lingered the dark cloak blending deep into the darkness.
The light disappeared as the figure took the first left passageway, different from the same day a week before when they took the third right passageway…
Brandon lingered till the count of thirty before slowly stalking forward, and sneaking his way towards his normal training room; a previously unused storage room out of the way of the most commonly used halls of the castle, closer to the Small Council room than it was the Royal Quarters, yet still out of the normally beaten path.
A hall connected to the main hall towards the Small Council room, but was ignored in favor of the quicker more direct route that led through the heart of the castle.
Though, Brandon stiffened when he found the door opened, a dim light…
Curiosity had gripped his mind as he slowly stalked to the side and peered through the gap from the darkness when the leaking light had begun to fade, and from within he found a head of golden hair, a body without cloth…
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Helena was stirred awake by an odd feeling gripping her body, she rose slowly the axe which laid under her pillow slowly dropping to the side of the bed as she prepared to cleave whomever had dared to disturb her rest in two…
It was not a child of her own, as her heart gripped with a sensation that was unfamiliar, a dread yet not, a loss yet not, a betrayal yet not, a fear yet not, pride yet not…
Her bare feet found the stone floor as she stalked in the darkness, slowly scanning the room finding naught hidden within… She crept towards the door, finding torchlight leaking into the room from beneath, as her ear found the wood of the door she patiently listened catching a slow steady breath; one of the Kingsguard, far too calm a lit torch…
She opened the door, catching the man's attention but she only brought a finger to her lip and slipped out for her room gesturing for the man to stay as she disappeared into the darkness; having not bothered changing out of her bedwear…
The Kingsguard had no complaints.
Yet, even as the sun began to rise over the horizon, and the castle became alive, Helena found nothing out of place, all her children in their rooms; Brandon, the training yard; Sullivan, or the forge; Aria.
After a quick change, Helena moved to watch over Aria in the forge as Helena inspected her work, an iron nail and the rest of whether the young girl would be allowed to work with the metal…
Of course, Helena's amazing baby girl had passed, how could she not…? Aria was imperfectly perfect after all.
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Brandon awoke once more with his trousers stained, and the vivid dream lingering upon his mind, and for a while he stared at the ceiling processing the dream once more, before rising and scrubbing the stain away with water and a smooth—rough piece of stone.
Shaking the lingering dream from his mind, Brandon began to weigh his body down with chainmail and weights, before he took his pillow and made his way out into the halls. Intent on finding Mother, and securing the latter half of his day for training, knowing that soon he'd have to return to blacksmithing so he could graduate from bronze… As Aria would no doubt be finished with soon…
A breath stole his lips for a moment as he felt burdened with the weight of everything he had chosen for himself, but that burden brought a smile to his face. The weight was another challenge to overcome, it was only a matter of when, and not if…
Brandon would become strong, so that he could protect his PACK. With such thoughts on his mind, he found his Mother at the Training Yard and found her busy, so he turned his attention to the tree wolf pups that had trailed behind him the whole way.
Like ducklings to their Mother, the three pups plopped down in the warm stone nipping at each other's ears…
He couldn't give them a name, and they couldn't choose one of their own… His Nameless Pups… His PACK…
He was their Alpha, as their Mother was to Sullivan, Aria, and Himself.
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Sullivan, alongside Pycelle sent out the last of the Invitations, with the last of them headed towards Dorne inviting Laenah's Uncle. A man Sullivan had yet to meet, but had heard no small numbers of stories about… To say he was nervous about the coming years would be an understatement, but he needed to build himself a foundation to stand upon that wouldn't crack under the burden of the crown…
With a few kind words directed towards the old maester who had been forgotten by most thanks to Theobald, Sullivan retreated towards the Royal Gardens to find Aria and Laenah enjoying the horizon with cups of tea and a tray of snacks.
Aria quickly spotted his arrival, but held the conversation with Laenah, allowing him to sneak upon his Lady Wife, gently startling her with a kiss upon the nape, "Morning my love."
"Darling," Laenah spoke through a heated breath, one that brought Aria to roll her eyes as she set her cup aside, "I'm going to find Arya, don't let Mother find you sucking faces in the Gardens."
A heat immediately flushed Sullivan's face before it was dispelled with a cough, and Laenah gave a light laugh as she gazed up at her Lord Husband, "Father wants us to have Dinner in the courtyard later today, so don't be gone long!"
Sullivan called out to Aria as she slipped back into the castle before settling into the seat that Aria had abandoned, intent on enjoying the horizon with his love…
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Sansa was startled as the door to her room was kicked inward, Arya and Aria stood there with Nymeria and Harold trailing sat behind the two, Nymeria a whole head taller than Harold; Aria's wolf, while Lady rose from her cushion and stalked towards the door.
"Why couldn't you knock…?" Sansa pouted as she stared at the two, having known they would be arriving this morning.
Arya shrank a bit under her sister's gentle chiding, but Aria only showed a smile, "C'mon, Mother is headed to the Kingswood today, and if you want to come we have to leave now or she'll be gone."
A sigh left Sansa as she rose from her seat, setting her needlework aside before following the duo with Lady, Nymeria, and Harold trailing behind…
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Cersei set aside the small roll of parchment she had received from her Lord Father that had informed her of Tyrion's invitation to the Red Keep as the Heir of Casterly Rock, and the Westerlands…
It seemed the Crown Prince was attempting to strengthen his influence, but in doing so had weakened relations with the Westerlands… Anyone who knew even the slightest of Lord Father knew that he'd rather name a bastard Heir than that monstrous 'thing'…
Yet what had truly pulled her attention, was the maid that had told Cersei that the Queen and the Princess alongside the beasts and the Northern Children were leaving the castle for the day, and most likely wouldn't return till nightfall…
Which left her a whole day to find Brandon, as who could know the next time she'd receive a chance like this…?
A chance with her body at an optimal point for bearing a child, and the overprotective Queen gone from the castle, which left no worries of the Lowborn stumbling upon Cersei in the act…
Thus, Cersei had chosen a dress that she knew would hold the youth's attention, a truly seductive and lavish dress that left little to the imagination, and she made her way through the lesser known passages, hoping to find her way into the room the youth liked to train within before the youth found it himself…
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Brandon had decided not to search for a maid once again, something that had become commonplace these last few weeks as Cersei's teasing visits became more common, and more revealing…
Yet, as he approached his Training Room, he found the door ajar, a head of Golden hair laid within atop a bed of lavish red and gold, her figure barely veiled under a thin silken dress that looked more akin to a harness than a dress…
For a brief moment he thought himself in a dream, yet everything in his being told him it was not…
It was True…
She laid before him, her lips a rosy tint, her emerald eyes holding a teasing glint that never showed in his dreams, a confidence that he couldn't truly place…
A Lioness before a Stag… A beast lingering in the depths…
A Lioness to be tamed, a skin to be shed…
A Stag no more, a Beast awoken.
A Lioness weakened, exhausted… A Beast only getting started…
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(A/N: [24?? Words] No Status.)