Becoming His Desire Ch. 01

This is a short work of erotic fiction containing furry, or anthropomorphic, characters, which are animals that either demonstrate human intelligence or walk on two legs, for the purposes of these tales. It is a thriving and growing fandom in which creators are prevalent in art and writing especially.

Please note that all characters are clearly over eighteen and written as such in all stories.

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Jacynda pursed her lips, pouring over her spell book.

"There has to be something in here..." She muttered, brushing her red hair back behind her ear, where an errant lock had twisted free of her tight bun. "Somewhere... Somehow."

Studious to a fault, she had been taken in two years back by the master mage of the castle, which would have been a grand enough feat by itself, but even more so when the castle was the largest in the land, inhabited by the highest of nobility. The king was not at home currently, but his son, the prince was, a tall, glowing pinnacle of a man who her heart pounded for. The flicker of candlelight sent shadows dancing across the room and, with the late hour, her eyes streamed to pour over the book, even though she should have been asleep hours ago. A little touch of magic, however, could keep her eyes open and her senses sharp, even if she did not yet have the skill to keep herself awake for days or weeks on end.

But she had to keep trying, she had to keep looking. There was no other option for her, her brows tightly raised as if she was trying not to frown, lips pressed together. She had to do it.

Maybe she would not have fallen for him if she had not spent so many days in his presence, learning how to tailor her magic to the will of the castle, better serving royalty in every way. There were more ways to study and turn magic to her hand, of course, but she was focused on what she needed to know to become powerful, to be the head mage, in time, seeing no room for extracurriculars...let alone love.

"Why does he love her?"

Oh, it was typical, a story of unrequited love that had her quivering in place, her blouse buttoned tightly over her bosom, though the ripples in the fabric ensured that it remained modest. She was a mage, first and foremost, and Jacynda had no desire at all to be like all the other young women in flowing, courtly dresses fawning over the prince, Prince Benjamin the third. Those that were close to him, jousting and enjoying "princely" pursuits, just like him, called him Ben. She would rather have called him "Benny", but that was not something that she could do when the prince did not even know her name.

Jacynda sighed. Why was love so difficult? And the prince did not even see her, making eyes at another princess, a princess who hurled javelins and demonstrated her physical prowess in archery. How brutish! He would be much better off with a powerful woman like her -- well, when she developed her skills further, that was. Magic had so much more finesse to it than the efforts of the body, which could feasibly be developed by anyone with a body to move. With magic, she could hit the bullseye on any target with any arrow, overcoming that princess' skill in a heartbeat.

So, why didn't he look at her?

"Ah..."

A smile pulled at her lips and she lit another candle to ensure she had a clear view of the page, the spell that she would cast. It didn't look all that difficult, to be fair, for a love spell, though there were the usual warnings in place about it being infatuation and not love -- that was pretty standard in modern spell books. The ancient texts had not cared much about things like that.

The spell leapt to her lips, a goblet of Prince Benjamin's and a lock of his hair (stolen, of course, from his private quarters) was all that Jacynda needed to begin the spell, leaping headfirst, reckless in her desperation. She could have held back, could have researched the spell more -- but if it was in a modern text, how bad could it be? It might not even work, even though she had the required components, if her strength as a mage was not strong enough yet, for magic was a muscle like any other that had to be trained and practised with, even daily. That was the purpose of her studies, her training, seeking to become better than she was the day before.

The familiar tingle of magic wrapped itself around her, though she had never cast a spell like that before, an invisible cord of desire lashing out from her, reaching for him, she expected, somewhere in the palace. She imagined Benjamin, right then, asleep in his bed, sleeping so soundly, his golden hair ringing his head as if in a halo.

"To become the object of your desire," she breathed, eyes half-lidded, enraptured by her magic. "Two hearts, beat as one. One's desire, take flight. Forever and always, Prince Benjamin the Third of the Kingdom, see Jacynda Silvermane as your heart's desire."

The spell wound up, wrapped as if in a bow, a gift to be given, and she let it fly with the exhalation of her breath, impressed even at her skill. The cord pulled -- and snapped, sending it out into the palace. It was only with the prince that the spell could do its work, after all, the carrier of rose water that she had floated his hair in, the goblet cradling it all, shimmering faintly. That would have to be left for the remainder of the night to absorb the moonlight.

After that...it was all up to the spell.

Even if he was infatuated with her for a little while, it would get the prince into her presence a little more, Jacynda reasoned with herself, as she finally laid her head down to sleep that night, blowing out the candle closest to her. She could talk to him, get to know him more personally -- and then he would fall in love with her. Infatuation, after all, could be something as potent as love, if played in the right way. It only needed the chance to become something more and she knew she was capable of holding the prince's love, if only he got the chance to get to know the real her too.

If she was not so quiet... No. Jacynda brushed the thought aside. She would not think like that, not at all. She had to keep going, had to trust herself, that she would know the prince, that he would know her. It was all she could do.

Sleep came, but it was not restful, the hair in the rose water carrier sinking, slowly, to the bottom.

*

Something was different the next morning, but Jacynda couldn't put her finger on it. She was not a vain woman and didn't spend much time longer in front of the mirror, peering at herself, though it was a free-standing one that was only suitable for doing her hair in -- not like the full body mirrors that noblewomen and princesses seemed to enjoy so much. She shunned those with a passion for the plain and simple, though she would have liked to get a better look at herself, how her body felt subtly different.

Of course, it had to be the spell. The most she could pick out, though it was quite a push to think of it, was that the hair on her fingers and her arms seemed to be a little darker. As a redhead with freckles, the hair was usually light enough there to blend in with her skin, more or less -- not as obvious as it was with someone who had brunette or black hair, at least. But it seemed to stand out to her, even though Jacynda, in the end, had to put that observation down to simply staring at herself for too long.

She dressed normally in a long, sweeping navy skirt that came down to her small, functional boots: smart enough for indoor and outdoor wear, though she preferred not to get them dirty at all. A long, white blouse with ruffles over the chest so that her figure was kept demure completed the look, though, in the long days of summer, she could have done with something lighter to wear. When the winter months came, she would don a wool jacket or coat over the top, depending on where her studies took her that day.

The head mage, master of his practice and sector of magic, struggled to gain her concentration that day, though it was unlike her. Her eyes kept sliding to the windows, which had been paned with magical glass to keep the room inside at an ideal temperature, imagining how it would be to...run?

Jacynda shook her head minutely. That was strange. Of course, she could see a fraction of the castle grounds from there, the corner of the shimmering, glittering lake, the pine forest where the prince, supposedly, had played as a young boy. But she couldn't see him. Why wasn't he out there? And why did she want to be out there when she never usually wanted to be anywhere at all near the outdoors? It was just so...outdoors.

Perhaps not her most eloquent, but Jacynda was not at her finest as she rubbed her forearms lazily, trying to tell whether the hair was thicker there. Maybe Benjamin didn't find the hair on her arms attractive enough? But, usually, she didn't have her sleeves rolled back around him and surely that would have been a silly, superficial thing to like about a person...

That night, she sat and stared at the flagon of ale that had been given to her as a gift, tucked away in a corner of the bedroom. Jacynda hadn't known what to do with it, considering that she didn't drink liquor, not at all. The gift-giver was one that she had only met in passing, however, and she had accepted it graciously. Yet the ale appeared more and more tempting as she frowned and turned her back on it.

"Tomorrow I will see the prince. And then we will see how my spell has gone..."

Saying it aloud to herself made it more real, a smile tugging at her lips. That night, she slept a little more soundly. Though Jacynda was not to know that a light snore graced her lips, fluttering in the back of her throat with every draw of breath...

*

The next morning, she was a little different again, but she had so much to do that day that she brushed it aside. It was a rare free day for her and, somehow, she felt lighter on her feet than ever.

What could she do with her day? Yes, yes, yes -- she had things to do, but she wasn't going to hang on there, oh no. It was a free day and there was laundry to be done, magic to be practised, spells to be rehearsed...

But why do any of that? It was not like Jacynda to worry about something like that, digging into her wardrobe to find something a little lighter than her usual wear. A long skirt still, yes, for that allowed her a good range of motion, was demure, comfortable...but a lighter shirt that showed off her chest a little more and a small leather jerkin that came over her shoulders and under her arms completed the ensemble. It had been a gift from her parents, back when they had thought she would join royalty on their hunts, but that had not appealed to her.

"Hm..."

It would do for what she wanted, striding out across the castle grounds with lightness in her step. Everything felt a little bit easier, every step, a bounce in it as if she was not quite settled in how she exerted her body, how she moved. She used too much effort with every step, but, well, that was no matter.

She felt good. Very good, in fact.

Somehow, even without breakfast in her stomach -- which she never missed -- she found herself at the training crowds, the rap of wooden swords on practice shields echoing around the area, metallic clangs ringing out where the more experienced clashed.

She had avoided it before, unless she was training with the mage master regarding more physical attacks, fighting, things that she didn't honestly want to dig into, all for the uncouth. Yet there was something about the rattle of battle that had her warm through, the sun shining down, different practice grounds of bare, hard-packed earth for different fighting styles. There was even a quintain and a tilt for jousting.

"Hey there, lady!"

She paused, tilting her head.

"Yes?"

A rough man with a scraggy beard smirked, though there was a gentleness in his eyes that betrayed a softer side to the hard, harsh lines of his face.

"You thinking of joining us, mage? We're missing a third."

Jacynda surveyed the group before her. Three and two -- she supposed they would have wanted her to join the two. That couldn't be that bad, could it?

"I mean, you'll probably be down and out even with all your fancy mage magic," he said, wiggling his fingers as if that was meant to show what magic was, "but you'd be a big help to us."

"Yeah, c'mon, magey, we can do good for you, we won't go too hard."

They jeered and sneered and something in her rose to the bait, a wolf snapping its jaws around the leg of its hapless prey. And no matter how much that prey struggled, it wasn't going anywhere far on a broken leg, the battle won a moment after it had begun.

They told her she could use mage craft, whatever she wanted, that it was just a skirmish, a rough battle, something for practice, something for fun.

"Oh, I won't need any of that!"

She grinned, something raw and feral taking hold of her, though the smile that pulled at her lips did not stretch as far across her lips as it could have. She could smile widely, yes, but she had not done that for many, many years. It wasn't something that Jacynda knew, after all.

They laughed at her, mocking her, though the man who had invited her to join them surveyed her with something like a knowing look about him. But she brushed that aside. She could let that sit to the side, not worry about it, though it was the sort of thing that would have gone around and around her head before, as if she could not get it out of her mind.

She closed her hand over the pommel of a broadsword with a metal blade, though the edges had been dulled. Her knuckles seemed a little different, a little darker, but she brushed it aside.

"Let's go, boys!"

She didn't exactly roust them, but...well...there was something there, something that had her growling with a ferocity that she had never even attacked her studies with. She didn't know what came over her, only that it felt good to hurl herself into the fray, her technique clumsy with her enthusiasm more than making up for it.

One man swore and stumbled back over himself, though she bared her teeth in savage joy at the skirmish. Yet she could not beat men who were larger and stronger than her, not with her low level of skill.

"Shit!"

She stumbled to the ground, a boot in the small of her back sending her forward, her skirt ripped as her knee connected with the ground. Yet there was a helping hand to assist her back to her feet and, as much as they mocked her for being the second to go out, they had to acknowledge that she had not been as much of a pushover as they'd thought.

"Damn, look at you, magey," one whistled, though she would not learn his name until later. "You've got some beef to you, hey? Did they make those muscles for you back home or was that a potion...stuff...thing that you cast on yourself?"

"You wouldn't know mage craft if it came up to you and backhanded you in the face," she shot back, a cocky bite to her words. "Come back again tomorrow and I'll show you what for!"

They laughed, slapping her on the back and, despite herself, Jacynda found herself doing it back, bumping shoulders, though she was quick to excuse herself. The cling of hair to the back of her sweaty neck, coming loose from its long braid, was uncomfortable at best, shifting her weight.

Ugh! What had she gone and done that for, getting herself all sweaty? She was a lady, a mage, better than just a lady. She was useful in the world and she was so much more than a ruffian who spent their day bashing swords about like a heathen who knew no better.

Back to her room, she took a bath in a tub filled before the fire, for there were no better facilities there for people of her station -- not unless one took that step up to royalty.

Sitting in the tub, washing through and combing out her red hair, she muttered under her breath. That wasn't the reason she wanted to be with Benjamin, dear, handsome Benjamin, but it was one thing that she could enjoy if she was to become his consort. Or, heaven forbid, his wife.

Did she allow herself to dream about that? She leaned back in the wooden, treated tub, water splashing around her, fingers dancing over her body, cleaning softly, easily, with a washcloth. Her hair was longer... She would have to see about the castle barber trimming it, though she didn't want it to be styled. That was not for her, not for a mage like her.

Continued in part two...