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Maternity Maneuver

For Skiesofsilver

By Feder

"The queen is expecting..." Lars said as the beer-maiden returned to refill his and his co-conspirator's drinks. "This is our opportunity to act, we may never get this sort of opportunity again." Lars had served as a cleric in the service of the draconic monarchy for years, his career up until now had been mostly unremarkable, and that is what he gathered his two closest allies and cohorts together for. Sitting with him at the table was Darren, a career knight whose fair and handsome elvish features were marred by a thin scar running down the side of his face, and Magyar, a half-orc barbarian who resembled a caveman dragged out of the past, shaved, and dressed in furs. The knight took a drink and looked around the room, making sure nobody was listening to them over the din of the tavern.

"Just so you know...." Darren whispered. "If this goes south, it's every one of us for himself. I had nothing to do with this." Magyar rolled his eyes and laughed.

"Turning yellow, are we now? Nothing's going to go wrong, Lars knows what he's doing!" The half-orc drained his glass and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, prompting a look of disapproval from the blonde cleric.

"I wouldn't have brought you two here to discuss this if I weren't confident in its success, right?" Lars said, prompting a shrug from Magyar. "Tomorrow morn, we move. History shall be made, gentlemen."

---

Queen Mali lounged on her throne, the dragoness cut an imposing figure even as she was gravid with her first clutch. A tall, voluptuous draconic figure poured into a purple velour dress with gold embroidered trim. Her scales were a deep, iridescent emerald green that brought out her fierce,amber-colored eyes. Her belly was heavy with eggs, any week now she would lay, but at the moment she had her feet draped over the arm of her throne to rest her sore ankles.

She looked up to see a frazzled looking stag in polished armor approaching. ""Your Highness..." He said, his hooves click-clacking on the white marbled floor of the Queen's chamber, "The Honorable Lars Whitemoore wishes to speak with you."

Mali's thick tail thumped dully against the throne cushion. "Ah, Lars! That old busybody," She chuckled. "Very well, bring him in." The queen gave a wave of her clawed hand and the cervine valet ushered the cleric in, with his to cohorts in tow: a tall dark-haired knight in armor she recognized as Darren of Grayditch, and a half-orc with rough, clay-colored skin. Lars himself was clad in his official outfit of a white tunic and leggings worn under a blue tabard bearing the profile of a horned dragon, the symbol of Mali's dynasty.

"My queen," Lars said, bowing before the dragoness, "I wish to speak with you on a matter of utmost importance to the future of your nation." A wry smile spread over the dragoness's reptilian face, only to fade when she saw both of the cleric's guests were armed. The knight had a gloved hand on his sheathed sword and the half-orc had a warhammer slung over his back.

"What is the meaning of this, Lars?" Mali glared at the cleric, she didn't want the first thing that came to her mind to be true, but in case it did she was thankful the dungeon had plenty of free space in it.

"Your Majesty, please understand that I'm only doing this for the safety of you and your children. Why, it'd just be terrible if the stress and rigors of governance should take their toll on your first clutch!" Lars gave the dragoness a fake smile worthy of a chancellor as he spoke,"So I humbly propose you step down until the dragonlings are hatched and grown, so you may raise your family whilst myself and my associates..." The cleric gestured towards the knight and barbarian,"...rule in your stead."

"And we'll take over for you, too!" Magyar spoke up, revealing his sharp orcish teeth in a wide grin, teeth that Mali observed were in dire need of a good brushing. Queen Mali chuckled, sitting up as straight as her belly and hips would allow in the throne.

"You are unbelievable..."

"I only do this because I care for your health and the future of this land" Lars said, fingers crossed behind his back.

"...I never thought you would attempt a coup, let alone with just three people." The dragon monarch stood up, wobbly at first, but quickly regaining her grace and imposing stature. Mali dwarfed the three conspirators, the half-orc only managing to come up to her chest with his six feet in height. Lars glanced over to the elf, who drew his short sword and nodded, understanding without words what their plan had come to.

"Your Majesty, I must insist on you stepping down, I am prepared to restrain you by force if need be, this is for your own good!" The cleric's officious voice faltered when he saw Magyar take his hammer and, in an impressively ill-conceived attempt at intimidation, smashed a pewter statue of a perched wyvern. Darren flinched as the half-orc reduced the fine work to a cloud of dust and rubble with two short blows from his weapon.

"You idiot!" Lars cried out, "I told you to wait for my signal!" Then, Lars realized he had made a terrible mistake, and when he and his two cohorts saw that the queen's flared nostrils were flickering with blue flame and inky black smoke, he realised that the game was up. There was but one thing for them to do.

"Lars?" The elf said, looking over to him with the kind of fear the human cleric never saw in the knight before.

"Run for it!" As the three bolted out of the throne room, they felt the dragoness's infernal breath hot on their backs,the roar of flame and the smell of smoke reminding them just how terribly it all had gone awry. They heard the queen call for the guards as they ducked into a long-neglected store room. Lars had been aware of it for more than most of the castle had, and he capitalized on that knowledge by reinforcing the door for just such an occasion. When Darren and Magyar followed him in, the cleric slammed and locked the door behind them, kicking up a small cloud of dust. And so the would-have-been conspirators waited in the dark, musty storage closet surrounded by cobwebs and forgotten miscellania. There was a very long, tense silence as they listened...and listened.

"We're safe for now... But they will find us eventually, I suggest we use that exit in the servant quarters." Darren said, panting, beads of sweat running down his high forehead. "Lars, do you remember that one? The one you had built and bribed the mason guild to not tell the queen about?"

Lars huffed, running his hand over his stomach. "Of course I remember, just let me catch my breath... I think I cramped something running." the cleric said, feeling his stomach quite a bit firmer than he remembered.

"If you weren't so out of shape, I swear..." The elf scoffed, not noticing the flecks of white on his neck. "I run every morning,when I can. I could reach that escape tunnel if it weren't for..."

"Guys..." Magyar interrupted, hold his meaty hands over his ears. "I have a problemmm." The other two approached the half-orc,both of them visibly unamused.

"Magyar, what is it? This isn't the time for this." Darren said, his voice taking on a more breathy tone than before.

"It's mmmy ears!" And so Magyar took his hands off the side of his head, revealing a pair of floppy bovine ears covered in short, bristly white and brown spotted fur... a pattern both the cleric and the elven knight recognized as belonging to a dairy cow.

"Gods!" Lars shouted, staggering back. " This is not good!" Darren looked over to the blonde human.

"Has he been bewitched?" He said, scratching at his neck.

"We have been bewitched." Lars said, hands gripping his shaggy blonde hair, hair that now possessed dusty brown streaks. "The queen would have placed a hex on all of us, and if Magyar is already being affected then..."

"Sir Darren, you have feathers!" Magyar exclaimed, pointing a shaking finger at the elve's neck. And Darren reached for his neck and plucked one of the feathers out, sending a tinge of pain through his body, like he had just yanked out a fistful of hair. He looked at the feather in his hand. It was soft, white, downy... like that of a swan's.

"Wuh...What the f..." The knight pulled off his leather gloves and dropped them on the stone floor, already the skin on his hands was drying out, becoming dark and scaly like the talons of a bird. And where his wrists met his forearms, there were more feathers. And just by seeing this, the elf was overcome with a terrible itching feeling all over his body. He tugged at the straps on his armor, piece by piece clattering on the floor as the other two watched and panicked as he revealed more and more of his changing, feathery body.

"We have to get out of here! This is worse than I thought, we haaaaawwww-" Lars slapped a hand over his mouth. He had just brayed... like a donkey. He felt something long and narrow whip against his leg, and when he turned and grabbed the appendage... he saw that it was the whip-like, tufted tail of a donkey... and it was attached to him.

"I have a tail!" The cleric shouted, "What are we going to do?" For once, the scheming human couldn't think of a way out, sending the knight and barbarian into further panic. Darren had stripped himself down to nothing, whimpering as his manhood vanished beneath the soft, plush coat of feathers that coated almost his entire body. And Magyar groped at his chest as he let out a low, guttural moan; a pair of big handfuls surging out of his body, milk leaking through the ratty cloth.

Darren and Lars looked on in shock as the twin growths burst through Magyar's top, shredding the front in a flurry of sack cloth and rough stitchwork. It was obvious to all of them what had happened. Magyar now possessed a pair of heavy, big, milk-laden breasts; bearing the same spotted fur as his ears, capped with a pair of puffy pink nipples. And Lars knew from his childhood on the farm what a cow giving milk meant, especially now that he could feel his belly straining against his linen tunic.

"Cow?' Magyar said, his eyes wide with shock.

"Pregnant." Lars responded grimly. Then, he heard a snap, then another. The buttons on his tunic popped off one by one as Lars' belly grew with life, coupled with a sudden surge inward between his legs as his manhood, by no means impressive, shrank into his body. He whimpered, feeling his organs tug and shift around, he reached down and felt a puffy mound, with a moist and quivering slit. Her new womanhood...

As brown fur covered more and more of the human's body, and the half-orc's feet sculpted themselves into a pair of clumsy, black hooves; Darren's jaw ached as his face pulled outward into a pointed, graceful yellow beak, much like that of a swan's. And indeed, as his hair dropped out by the fistful to make room for the white coat of feathers, his neck grew longer...giving him the visage of a waterfowl.

The former knight stumbled back on his now-webbed feet, his muscled features disappearing more and more beneath his downy plumage. His belly firmed up,Darren could feel with his clawed hands the outline of a clutch of eggs, growing in size and pressing teasingly against the edge of his womb... her womb.

The swan looked over to the half-orc and let out a startled squawk as she saw the broad muzzle and brown eyes of a humanoid cow gazing back at her. The cow woman's ruined clothing hung from her thick frame in tatters, laying bare her matronly curves and plump belly. In mere seconds, she looked as if she was nine months with a healthy calf.

"What are you standing around for?! We haaaawww....have to get out of ...." Lars' face wrenched itself forward, her nose flattening against her equine muzzle, her leggings reduced to tatters as her hips grew fuller and rounder, fingernails turning thick and dark as her hands explored her changing body, now every bit as gravid as her partners in crime. The donkey's mind was clouded by sheer, dumb panic. She threw off her now ill-fitting tunic, and her tabard, revealing more brown-furred skin, with light tan running down her front, making her pregnant gut all the more obvious.

She stepped out of her leather shoes, her donkey hooves clicking on the floor as she wobbled side to side as she adjusted to walking on the balls of her feet as the joints popped. She looked over at Magyar and Darren, the cow girl looking nothing like the half-orc she once was, and the knight now possessing an unmistakably avian appearance, complete with tail feathers to draw the gaze towards her shapely ass.

Magyar's spotted tail swished back and forth as she started to sob. "I don't wanna be a cow! What do I do?"

Lars, ever the brains of the three, considered finding a way to reverse the spell but when her thoughts turned to the foal gestating inside her... her clouded mind paused. It would be terrible to deny her child the right to a mother... and it was getting harder and harder to argue with that idea, even with herself.

The swan's eyes twinkled as she felt of her belly. "I think... I think I have four eggs in me. I wonder how many are sons?" The donkey girl snorted.

"You girls... Don't you think we should worry about... getting outta here and stuff? We can't just..." She bit her knuckle, trying to think of what the plan was... the exit... hole in the garden? No, that didn't feel right. "We can't just have our babies here, it's too dirty!" No no no, a voice in the donkey's mind scolded her for saying that, but what was it she really wanted to say?

"I'm leaking mmmilk." The cow girl whined, grimacing as her restless calf kicked inside of her. Lars sighed, she knew when the situation was unten...untenabil...no good anymore. She waddled over to the door and fumbled with the lock.

"Let's go, ladies." The donkey girl said, "We gotta apologize and stuff." And as the three left the storage room, they found themselves face to face with the Queen herself, flanked by her kobold guardsmen.

"I hope you've learned something from this,girls." The dragoness said, giving them a rather mean smile.

The swan nodded. "I'm about to lay, can we?"

Mali chuckled. "You may, but I hope you realize you are all unfit to return to your positions." The way she said that felt familiar to the pregnant donkey girl. "Why, you have families to raise!"

"I hope she's a girl cow." Magyar said, smiling over at the swan. "I always wanted a daughter." Lars flinched as her foal shifted around inside of her. It would be mere days before she would give birth. Even at that moment, she felt like she was going to pop open.

"We understand..." The donkey said, not sure why she felt ashamed to look the dragoness in the eye.

"Very good,you will all be henceforth retired with full pension. I trust this arrangement is to your liking?" The dragoness gave them a withering look and they nodded.

"My armor doesn't fit anymore anyway..." Darren mumbled, still not used to talking with a beak. Lars leaned against the wall behind her, her legs already sore from standing. Mali's violet gown fluttered as her long tail shifted side to side.

"Wonderful..." She snapped her fingers and pointed down the hall, "Guards, please escort these ladies to the bedchambers, and do bring the midwife with you, I believe our new mothers will be due any day now."

And as the kobolds escorted the three conspirators along, the queen chuckled to herself. The spell had proven to be quite the problem solver, and as she rubbed her own gravid belly, she had an idea. If a coup could be foiled this way, she could only imagine what other problems could be solved.

"I believe I'll have King Orosco over," Mali said with a smile. "He's been childless for too, long and perhaps I can make an example of a few of my lazier guards while I'm at it."

And so, a short week from that fateful day; Dara the former knight would lay her clutch, Magda would have plenty of milk to feed her daughter, and Lara would give birth to a son. Their attempted coup would be lost to history, and Queen Mali's reign would establish her kingdom as a force to be reckoned with.