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Game of Thrones: The True Heir

Given a chance to live a life in a not-so-nice place after he died, Markus took his chances and took his wishes in a rather unorthodox way. Where's he going? Game of Thrones. Armed with wishes that will help him get by, Markus finds out he's the true heir to Robert Baratheon and the Iron Throne. Not just that, he's the Eldest Prince and already in line to become King making him a prime target for the machinations of the Game. With an over-protective Mother, a drunken mess of a Father, an absolutely evil little shit of a brother, how will Markus make it through this life in one piece? Well, he just just needs enough strength, right? Both personal and political. Though, honestly, Markus doesn't really want to be King. But sometimes, life just forces you hand, huh? (A/N - Heads-up - The MC won't become King before Joffrey. Why? Because he doesn't want to be King. Not many people want to be held down by that sort of pressure, after all. But he will eventually become King, so don't worry about that. It'll just take some time for him to change his mind. Another warning would be that you shouldn't expect a perfect protagonist who will never make mistakes. He won't be infallible and unable to be defeated, so please don't go into this story thinking that. You've been warned.)

ROB_001 · TV
Not enough ratings
3 Chs

Morning Training

Upon seeing me enter, my father turned and his red face lit up in a smile, "Hurry up, boy! Come and sit next your father," he chuckled, patting the nearest seat to him.

Smiling, I took him up on his offer and sat next to him.

As soon as I sat, he began to pile all sorts of meats onto my plate. This is how it usually goes whenever he's here for breakfast. Part of me realizes that he figured out Cersei was having another man's children when I came out with his hair but the three other children mother gave birth to had blond hair. Well, it was either that, or because I took after him the most and I was the eldest, I got preferential treatment.

This, obviously, left my other siblings lacking paternal love compared to me but...well, what could I do about it? Tell my father what to do? He'd sooner scoff at me than listen. I'm a child in his eyes. All I'll ever be until I'm fully grown.

Picking up a fork, I turned to mother, "Where's Joffrey, mother?" I asked, wondering where the little prick was.

Like anyone would, I tried to change him but my appearance in this life just seemed to aggravate him. Especially how I seemed to take up all our father's attention. Well, who think is his father. But most of all, my athletic and physical prowess just drove him up the wall.

Frankly, Joffrey was useless with a sword and his natural disposition is that of a coward, so combat wasn't for him. But, my appearance had him try harder than ever nonetheless.

"He's doing his morning practice, Markus," she answered with a smile before frowning seeing my plate full solely of meat. She turned to dad, "Robert...please stop piling meat onto his plate. He needs vegetables as well," she said with a biting tone that easily showed her disdain for the man she was speaking to.

He just laughed in reply, "Please, if he wants muscles, he needs meat. That's a fact known to anyone who has a bit of sense in their brain," he said before cocking his head in Jaime's direction, "Unlike Kingslayer over here, my boy wants to use a real man's weapon," he laughed boisterously, his pride and belief in a good warhammer being unmatched. Just like his general disdain for other weapons.

Jaime just laughed good-naturedly but there was a small amount of spite in his eyes that unnerved me.

Must be jealous not all the kids are his and the one that isn't his, is the best one. Figures.

Internally laughing at my joke, I began to devour the slabs of pork placed in front of me. The only problem with my strong physique was the upkeep needed to keep it going. I ate more than my siblings combined and nearly more than the average man would eat. This amount would no doubt grow as well.

I ate and I ate, devouring meat, vegetables and bread. I consumed quite a lot of water as well. En entire jug.

To think this would be the smallest of my meals today really did put my appetite into perspective.

Finishing up, I stood, "I'll be off to do my training then. Excuse me," I gave a polite bow to father, mother and Jaime before going to leave. Just as I ruffled Tommen and Myrcella's hair, my father's voice stopped me.

"Hold your horses, Markus," he said, his chair moving as he began to stand, "I'm going to accompany you and give you some tips while I'm there. But mainly, I want to see your progress and see if the money I've been paying for tutors and sparring partners is being well-spent," he chuckled before walking toward me with a merry smile.

This wasn't the first time this had happened, and despite wine and whoring having eroded at his body, he was still quite strong. His stamina was just absolutely shit.

Nodding to him, I began walking with him following me.

We talked along the way but it was mainly him asking questions and expecting answers. I wouldn't say I had a warm and loving relationship with my father but it was definitely better than I was expecting it to be.

He...well, he was just a shadow of who he was. Not just because of his body aging and getting fat either. The love of his life, from his perspective, was stolen away from him and forced into a relationship by some evil Targaryen. It broke him, completely. He was never the same after that, I suppose. Not many people would be.

But, still, he seemed to take some joy in teaching me about the warhammer and how to use it. I just had to stay away from certain topics. Targaryens being the main one, obviously.

Before long we arrived at a courtyard where my tutor was waiting for me. He was a big guy. Massive, even. He was about 7 foot tall and he was covered with bulging muscles that popped out everywhere. As others said in this world, he obviously had a bit of giants blood in him. He was intimidating as hell.

But the friendly smile on his face put those fears to rest, honestly.

He bowed to the both of us as we arrived, "Your Majesty, Prince Markus," and even bowed he was still above my height by a few feet. His voice was deep and booming, as you'd expect and each of his words sounded like the crunching of iron. But the obvious gentleness that had been cultivated throughout this man's life was definitely there. Probably because without it he'd have scared most people shitless.

My father, however, was undeterred and walked toward the man with a smile, waving his hand as if to banish the bow the man was performing, "Stop bowing to me, Tytos, you'll ruin your reputation, you old lug!" he said, his laughter slipping through into his words.

Tytos, the old-ish man who'd been teaching me the past few years, just wryly smiled, knowing my father's quick switches of personality. Sometimes he wanted people to worship the ground he walked on and others, he acted like a modest and humble King. Tytos was simply not willing to take the chance.

Other than being tall and covered in muscles, Tytos was bald and had a long white beard. He was pretty old, I was told, and it was a miracle he was still combat ready.

But don't let that fool you...this man swings a hammer with enough force to probably make the Mountain piss himself.

Makes you wonder why he was never in the show...but I'd also be willing to bet that he'll die before canon. As sad as that is, it's the nature of this world. A lot of people die, no matter whether they're close ones, teachers, or complete randomers to you.

Anyway, before long, the pleasantries were passed and the training began.

I was given a warhammer fit for my size and even then, it was too big for me currently. Mainly because my strength allowed it and according to Tytos, 'if you weren't using the best sized weapon to push yourself, you ain't training, you're just messing around!' which are words of, uh, wisdom, I guess.

The training consisted of me doing multiple different attacks against a dummy. Overhead swings, swipes, making sure to know how to use the pointed-end of the backend of my warhammer, and being able to do these with both my left or right hand, and then switching to two-handed strikes. I'd do this a few hundred times and engrave the movements into my muscles, with every bad movement being corrected by Tytos or my father and only 300 perfect strikes would count. Problem is, doing 300 perfect strikes is hard, so, including the 'failed' strikes, I must have done 500+ swings of each way of attack.

But I was still learning quicker than a normal child would. Plus, father and Tytos' version of a perfect strike would make sure most warhammer users would have to do well over 500 strikes to get just a few dozen right.

So, I was doing better than you'd think.

After these strikes, we'd work on defence. Which was pretty much Tytos casually swinging at me and me trying to block or parry the strikes with my warhammer.

Even with my strength, that could probably be used to overpower an ordinary man as of right now, blocking those strikes was like getting hit by a catapult. Parrying them was like trying to change the direction of a boulder.

But I didn't complain and just focused on listening to what my mistakes were and making sure they didn't happen again. While this was happening, I'd be thinking of my mistakes as well and correcting them on the fly, trying out new ways of holding the grip, new ways of swinging it, the muscles I should use when swinging it.

This skill and ability to actually change and improve my combat on the fly was no doubt because of the perk [Talented Combatant]. God, I really don't want to know what learning would have been like if I didn't have that perk. It was still hard as hell and I was no where near being able to fight in an actual life or death battle with my current skills.

Warriors in this world would be lucky if they're ready after a decade. I'd only been training for a few years and my current level of skill was already stunningly good.

Once the defensive maneuvers were done and dusted, I moved onto running. Cardio was as important as anything else, if not more important in a combat situation. If you ran out of breath, you'd die. If you get tired, you'd die.

And that all ties in to yoru Cardio. So, Tytos forced me to run lap after lap in this courtyard.

So, while my father and Tytos were drinking wine and joking about, laughing at each other's jokes, I was running around a courtyard in very hot weather, sweating my balls off.

...A bit unfair but I guess they did this training as well, so they deserve to rest.

Anyway, I didn't do much muscle training because of my young age and just swinging the warhammer around was a good enough work out for my upper body anyway. Running was the same for my lower body as well.

But honestly, I didn't need the muscle workouts just yet. My muscles were honestly inhuman at the moment. Especially in terms of explosive power. I could only overpower an ordinary adult man, sure, but I could output more strength in a smaller period of time as well. When I said overpower, I meant grapple them to the ground and hold them there. If I only had to punch them, they'd be out cold near instantly.

So, like I was saying, my explosive power is very high.

Probably thanks to both of [Auroch-Blooded] and [Powerful Build]. They'll probably increase my strength for me over the next few years as well. Though once I hit the age of 13, I'm gonna start really putting my muscles through the works. They'd get stronger without the workouts, yeah, but they'd get even stronger with the workouts and my natural growth.

And like this, another morning of training passed, with me running and running, and occasionally stopping to practice more warhammer swings.