LbN: Was reading "No Greater Treasure" by Doctor Madwoman and came across this line:

"What in God's name was that?! Henry launched out of his chair as the door rattled slightly in its frame. Did someone just kick his door? Disrespectful! He would not be treated in such a way! Besides, damn it, he had paid too much to have that door replaced after That One Incident involving Brandon, a table and that highly strung wolfhound…"

Had to write a response to it :) enjoy!

Charles Brandon was all man. He certainly didn't nance about like William, and he never whined like Anthony. But he was whining now….

"Is this all you have?" he asked.

The hound breeder smirked at the 19-year-old and nodded. "My young sir will recall that you only gave me a hundred crowns. These dogs are all you can get for that."

"But it's a present for His Majesty!" Charles whined. "And they're all so…small."

The man chuckled and slapped Charles on the back. "Fine. I'll sell you that one," he pointed to a slightly larger wolfhound in the corner. "He's a bit high maintenance, but he's good and strong. Fit for a king, I'd say," he finished with a chuckle.

Charles was a little confused, but he kneeled down and called the dog. He seems alright, he thought. "I'll take him," Charles said happily.

Ten minutes later, as he struggled back to Whitehall, he was regretting his decision to buy Henry a dog for his 20th birthday. The hound was energetic to say the least, and Charles was having one hell of a time keeping him under control. By the time he made it back to the castle, his pants were ruined from chasing, pulling, and being pawed by the dog. He glared at the guards, who were laughing at him. Dusting himself off, he led the dog through the castle. When he looked into the king's sitting room, he saw Henry was already there, playing chess with William. The chess set was the king's favorite present so far that week. Anthony had briefly been the favorite, having given Henry a new tennis set, but the king's attention had now turned to the glass chess set. Charles straightened the dog's collar. "Ready boy?" he muttered. He peeked into the room, catching Henry's attention.

"Charles! Just in time to watch me beat William. What've you got there?"

"A birthday present for your Majesty," Charles said, giving him a winning smile.

"Really? And here I'd thought you'd forgotten…" Henry teased.

"Well, it did take him all week," William grinned.

"Check mate," Henry said, moving his bishop and getting up. "Well, let's see it then," he said, grinning at Charles.

Suddenly, Charles was nervous. Half of him had hoped that Henry would be alone when he gave the king his present. He should've known better. The gentle competition between him, William and Anthony (which was, actually, Anthony and William vs. him usually) insured that at least one of the others would be there when Charles finally presented his gift. The three of them silently competed; and Henry silently encouraged it. This competition between the friends had intensified since the other two had accidently walked in on Charles and the king kissing.

Charles walked into the room, super conscious of his dirty pants, and stood before the king. "Happy birthday, Majesty," he said. "He…er…was a bit energetic coming home," he added, nodding at his pants.

Henry clapped and laughed. "Brilliant, Charles! What's his name?"

"Victor," Charles said, leading the dog forward.

"Leave us, William," Henry said.

"Your Majesty," William said, bowing. Placing the chess set on the curio, he left the room. He smirked at Charles as he past—the sign of an acknowledged victory.

"Is your Majesty pleased?" Charles asked with a smug grin. He knew full well that Henry was.

"You know full well that I am," Henry said, pulling him into a hug. The dog barked and Henry laughed. "Needs a lot of attention." He scratched the dog's ear briefly and then pulled Charles over to the table.

Charles watched as the king looked down one of the side passages. Apparently the servants had indeed left them, because the next second Charles was on his back on the table. And suddenly, Henry wasn't the king of England anymore—he was just Henry Tudor, a horny 20-year-old boy.

Charles, who had no problems with this development, pulled away just long enough to ask, "Shouldn't we go somewhegjdjuj—"

Henry kissed him again, ignoring the whining coming from Victor the Hound. "I've sent everyone away. They won't need me in counsel until tomorrow, so no one should be looking for me."

The dog was barking now, and Charles and Henry both glared at it. The king got off of his best friend just enough to let him stand a bit. They were both still leaning against the table when the dog decided he wanted attention now. Victor the Hound bounded toward them, somehow managing to land with his front paws on Henry's back.

Both men lost their footing and slipped back against the table. It went sliding into the wooden door that stood slightly ajar. Somehow, it caught the door at just the right angle to make it come off the hinges.

"Bloody cheap piece of shit…" Henry said, glaring at the door.

Charles, still on his back but now on the floor, laughed. "You always said you'd like to renovate the room. You can start there!"

Henry smacked him playfully on the stomach as Victor the Hound bounded over and licked his face. Two guards rushed in at that moment and both of them sat up and tried to control the dog.

"Your Majesty?" one of the guards asked.

Henry, caught off guard, couldn't think of anything to say.

"We were playing with the dog," Charles said, coming to his rescue.

"Yes. Take him to the trainer, please," Henry said, recovering himself. "And make sure he's fed well, he was a present." He smiled at Charles as the guards complied.

Once the guards had disappeared down the hall, he and Henry dissolved into a fit of laughter.

LbN: Hope you liked it! Send reviews please :). There's a new poll on my profile. I'm adopting one of my minor (or completely new) fandoms for longer stories; so if you want more Tudors stuff, go vote!