Beast in Stag Skin

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"DO YOU WANT TO UNLEASH THE DRAGON?!" A platinum haired teen slapped a young girl of the same colored hair, as she had once again allowed her voice to grow too loud in the presence of the 'Dragon', her cheek throbbed with a heat that was all too familiar as tears began to pool in her eyes…

"USELESS! WHAT GOOD ARE YOU?! FAILURE OF A DRAGON! MERE PREY!"

The teen roared down at the youth, as she was hit once more, yet this time with a fist that sent her sprawling, "BEGONE FROM MY PRESENCE WYRM!"

Thus, the young girl crawled away…

Yet, it wasn't a young girl, but a young teen who had gone far too many months without a proper meal, and the 'Dragon' was simply a diminutive young adult…

Neither knew what was in store for them in the coming years…

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

"Your Majesty, there are whispers of the Targeryan children in Pentos…"

Varys supplemented before the Small Council meeting came to a close, and Robert sighed a part of him wishing that they would just kneel over and die, "Have they been able to gain any support?"

"A magistar of Pentos has taken them into his manor, and there are whispers that she is to be wed to a Dothraki—"

"Dothraki…? The raiders of the east…?" Robert hummed as he fell into thought, before his gaze rose a smile spread across his face, "Send a message to this Magistar. Let's have the Targaryen's return to Kingslanding—"

"Sire! You mustn't do such a thing, there are still

those that are loyal—"

"Bah! I dare them to raise their heads! Damn, we'll make it easier to reap their heads!" Robert slammed the table with his fist, "I've spoken my orders! That is all!"

With that, the Small Council meeting had come to a close, and Eddard; the new Master of Laws, let out a long breath as the room cleared.

"Damned headache is what this shite is… I should have made you sit on the damned throne…"

Eddard gave a chuckle, but couldn't find the words to reply to such a thing, it was a burden he didn't wish to bear… Though, there was a different thought lingering on his mind, "What had changed your mind about the Targaryen's…?"

Robert sent Eddard a glance before he huffed, "The youngest was a girl was she not…? Who would be more worthy of my little boy than a former princess…? I'll be damned if that coupling wouldn't make a damned beautiful child. It isn't as if the child would ever sit upon the throne, and those loyal to the Targaryen's would be soothed with having Dragon Blood brought back into the Royal Line, and those Dragons are known quite well for the plumpness of their women… Just how Brandon likes them—

Eddard gaped at Robert for a long moment, unbelieving of what he had just heard…

"What…?"

Robert heaved a boisterous laugh, "Hmm…? Haven't you noticed that all the maids that tend to Brandon have large chests and wide hips…? It was difficult, but after much trial and error I finally found out my boy's preference! Ah! Don't tell Helena."

Eddard couldn't only stare as Robert looked beyond proud…

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Brandon unclasped the weights from his wrists and ankles, before removing his tunic and pulling the heavy chainmail off, his form dripping with sweat that had thoroughly soaked his tunic. Not far, a maid stood at a reasonable distance watching as Brandon dropped to the floor, and stood on his hands… Slowly, the maid began to count, happy to have gotten out of laundry duty thanks to the Prince's intervention, and even happier to help…

Brandon was by far the easiest of the Royal Children to be around, as rarely does the Queen ever seek him out, as he seeks her out regularly just so that his training wouldn't be interrupted by the Queen's coddling. As the count reached forty, Brandon slowly lowered himself, never allowing his stance to falter as the strain began to show on his face as he pushed himself back up, only to repeat the process as the count reached eighty…

Unlike what his Father had assumed, Brandon didn't choose the maids based on their figures, but their ability to count… It just so happened that those with noble backgrounds had exceptional figures… Almost as if carefully selected breeding pairs—

Brandon cut that line of thought short, finding himself sounding much too like his mother…

Dipping down once more as the count reached one hundred, he brought his body parallel to the floor his feet lingering in the air as he lowered himself once more, his hands downward from his hips and his nose a hair's breadth from touching the stone…

Brandon held that position until the count of three hundred, before he transitioned once more to a handstand until the count of five hundred to which he finally allowed his feet to the floor, and making his way to the wall… Which he sat against, as if the air had formed a chair, and without even having to be asked, the maid began to load weights onto his lap…

The gentle lavender perfume that she used tickled his nose, as his eyes darted away from the cleavage he most definitely didn't look at… Not at all…

The maid stifled a giggle, knowing that it would only make the youth uncomfortable, as she stepped back allowing his young mind to fall into focus once more… Unlike his eldest brother, women were this youth's weakness…

As for the Crown Prince…? It was without a doubt chocolate…

As for Aria…? It was all things cute and fluffy… A maid had even snuck a rabbit out of the kitchen before it was slaughtered, and the young girl had fussed over the small thing for weeks, until the youth had let it out into the Royal Gardens…

Where it had leapt off the edge, forever to be lost at sea… The princess had stood there in shock for some time…

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Cersei plotted her course through the castle to 'accidentally' run into King Baratheon after the Small Council meeting, a rather risqué dress gingerly splayed across her form revealing the full depth of her cleavage, with a long slit that ran up the side touching upon her hip revealing on the slightest hint of what lay hidden beneath as she walked… Having taken inspiration from the Queen when it came to her state of dress, as despite being a Lowborn bastard the Queen had taken great strides to push forward the ever turning wheel of Noble Fashion. Yet, Cersei's attention was pulled away as she caught sight of the Young Prince, through a partly opened door…

Cersei's steps came to a slow halt, as she peered through the gap surprised to find no Kingsguard close by, not even a maid present to tend to the Young Prince as he wiped the sweat off his glistening form…

Dark thoughts clouded in her mind, as her gaze washed across his adolescent frame… He had grown well since she had last seen the youth, as Adulthood seemed to find the youth early, the Prince was probably only a head and a half shorter than the Crown Prince and his body was already taking to that of an adult…

The faint lines his muscles drew across his frame were nearly defined as those that cut the frame of her brother, showcasing the effort the youth had put into honing his body. Cersei took a moment to preen herself, before sauntering up to the door allowing it to creak open as she leaned against its frame pulling the gaze of the Young Prince, and as his gaze momentarily found her exposed cleavage her finger tugged at the deep neck of her dress, 'accidentally' allowing a nipple to slip free. Cersei caught the heat rise to the boys face, as his pants began to grow taut…

Why fight for a King… When a Prince would wrap himself around her finger…? The youth himself had already shown how easy it would be, as his gaze momentarily lingered before falling to the floor in the heat of his embarrassment, the heat that had risen to his face bringing about a faint scarlet hue to his cheeks and ears…

A soronus giggle slipped from Cersei's lips as she sauntered past the room, allowing her hand to brush the cut of her dress aside giving the Young Prince a clear view of her bare rear as she disappeared beyond the partially opened door, leaving Brandon with quite the sight seated into his mind…

Cersei wasn't hailed as the most beautiful Maiden of the West for no reason, and Brandon found her figure lingering on his mind…

As for Cersei… The old witch may have been wrong, but Cersei will see to it that she becomes Queen…

It would all start with the Young Prince… Kings rarely live long after all…

Little did she know… The Young Prince wasn't a Stag as she had thought… He was a beast wearing the skin of one…

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Days turned to weeks, and weeks into moons as life for the Royal Family fell into a sort of cycle, there wasn't much happening within the Seven Kingdoms, and Robert was finally beginning to have the free time to actually pursue his training vigorously once more. The days of leaving over piles of parchment, and hearing of petty squabbles at court had mostly come to a close as the transition between Dynasties had finally smoothed out enough that the vast majority of the issues which plagued the King and Small Council has been dealt with, and with the last remnants of the old dynasty returning to the Seven Kingdoms the last major worry Robert had would soon come to an end…

Whether it was to be a bloody one was still to be seen, but some small part of Robert hoped it wouldn't, much the same for Lord Arryn who saw the plentiful benefits that would come from introducing fresh Targaryen Blood into the Royal Lineage…

Helena spent her time helping Aria through the word of womanhood, as despite going through such a lifelong experience once before; the modern amenities that made such things a mere nuisance, doing so in the Middle Ages was an experience of its own… 

There was no ice cream to guiltily devour in the midst of an emotional overstimulation, tampons to stifle the blood flow, or pills to ease the pain of cramps… 

Aria happily accepted Helena's assistance, no matter how overbearing it may be… Aria had likened it to a overly clingy boyfriend, who was experiencing it all for the first time, and poured his heart and soul into making sure that Aria had absolutely everything she could need…

As for Sullivan and Laenah…? Well, they were experiencing the busily in the process of gathering the Heirs of all the Major Households, sending them all invitations in the Crown Prince's name…

As for Brandon… Cersei had begun to cloud his mind, and it hadn't been long since he had awoken to find his trousers stained as the dream replayed itself in his mind once more… The sun had yet to rise, and Brandon was stuck staring at the wall as his mind conjured the image of his dream…

It FELT real, he could feel her breath upon his skin, the soft lightness of her touch as her fingers roamed his skin… Despite it being merely a figment of his imagination, paired with what Cersei had teasingly revealed from a distance when she found his eyes lingering… It felt all too REAL… It seems Brandon had been the one to inherit the full depth of ability that Helena's mind had held… Though, it seems he had unconsciously explored a different path than his Mother when it came to the ability of the mind…

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(A/N: [19?? Words] Short Chapter to set up for those that will follow. No Status. 

Remember this is a work of FANTASY, and FANTASY should remain FANTASY.

Don't be a Sick Fuck.

Anyways, Until Next Time,

White_Dog

)