Darkness.
That was what Tommen recognized around him. He could feel it encompass him, from within and without.
The last thing he could remember was falling forward. He felt himself flying through the air; descending, not ascending. He remembered closing his eyes as the ground rushed up to meet him. His last thoughts were on his beloved wife, who he hoped he would see in the Seven Heavens.
Tommen felt that hope be vanquished whenever he saw the darkness of his surroundings. Was this the First of the Seven Hells?
Light then blinded Tommen's eyes, showing him Seven figures that stood before him. He did not need to see their faces to know who they were. He immediately fell to his knees, bowing before them all.
"Tommen Baratheon, you took your own life. Murder is a sin, and murder of oneself is among the highest of sins," said the Father. "Yet the greatest sin you committed was not becoming the King you were meant to be. You allowed yourself to become disillusioned with those who corruptly preach our faith. You fell to the snares of your mother, and you did not take the initiative to do more when you could have. How do you plead to these charges?"
Tommen finally found his voice, and meekly spoke, "Father, I know that I am guilty of all these crimes. What would you have me do?"
At this point, the Mother spoke up. "Tommen, we would have you go back and change things. Prevent the atrocities that will come. We can give you that opportunity. Even though you failed to do what you were meant to do, and you took your own life, you were always true to the faith."
"Perhaps he should be shown what is to come?" a solitary voice, the Crone, spoke.
Instantly, Tommen felt as if he were watching a play, but instead of actors and a stage, he saw a multitude of things. He saw his death and what followed. He saw Eddard Stark's bastard, Jon, the salvation to the North. He heard himself gasp when he saw an entire legion of damned corpses following the lead of a creature he had only heard of in children's tales. Tommen then saw a horde of savages laying waste to the eastern lands; the Dothraki crossing the Narrow Sea, riding the wooden horses to wreak havoc in his country. The Ironborn coming to the aid of his mother, now the Queen, and how she constantly was making decision after decision that doomed Westeros even further. He saw the final straw in the form of a beautiful Meerenese woman being decapitated by that monster that Cersei commanded.
He witnessed a silver-haired woman, far fairer than even his Margaery he dared to admit, clad in black, riding atop a dragon as black as the night with red frills, torching King's Landing.
He saw hundreds of thousands burning to death. Men, women, and children were all suffering, being cooked alive until the point of bursting into piles of smoldering ashes. He saw a young man with dark hair, a Northerner, slay the silver-haired woman. Tommen then witnessed the ashes, falling like the snow had in Winterfell, and the dragon melt the Iron Throne. The young Stark boy, crippled from his fall, was then proclaimed King, and Westeros struggled to rebuild after a series of wars that plagued the continent and brought it to its knees.
All of this and much more passed before Tommen's eyes in the fraction of a second. All of this left him horrified and determined.
Tommen Baratheon, first of his name, King of the Andals and the First Men, was determined to prevent any of this from happening.
"With this knowledge, if you send me back, I can change the future. I can prevent any of this from happening. No matter the cost."
The Warrior then spoke, "Even if it costs you a part of yourself?"
"I have paid that price already. My inability to take action and do what should have been done has cost me everything I held dear."
The Seven fell silent, considering his words.
"Tommen," the Maiden called out to him. "This path will not be easy. It will be hard fought. There will be losses. But you have the heart for this; to change things."
The Smith pitched in, saying to Tommen, "Though your grandfather was not a believer of us, he was right to believe that you have the right temperament to be King."
Finally, the Stranger spoke, his voice the most chilling of them all to Tommen. "We shall send you back to before it all began. But if you should fail, if what we have shown you comes to pass again, then you shall be cast into the deepest of the Seven Hells. You saw what is at stake Tommen. Do not let us down."
Tommen felt the light that surrounded the Seven fade, the darkness creeping back in, and finally, he arrived back in his body, alive and well.
Tommen found himself in a moment he remembered all too clearly.
"The King is dead. Do you know what that means?" Tywin asked him. "I'm not trying to trick you," he added in a gentle tone.
"It means I'll be King," Tommen found himself saying. "Yes," his grandfather continued, "you will be King. What kind of King do you think you'll be?"
"The right one. The best one," Tommen answered confidently. His grandfather had a pleased smile. "I think so too. You've got the right temperament for it. But what makes a good King?"
"Simple, grandfather. A King can be holy, strong, or even just, but if he has no wisdom, then he will never be a good King."
"Yes!" Tywin exclaimed. He reached out and gave a familial squeeze to Tommen's shoulder; Tommen could see the pride from his grandfather's eyes. "But what is wisdom? Hmm?"
"A wise King knows what he knows and what he doesn't," Tommen spoke, having memorized the words Tywin previously said to him in his past life. "I know that I'm young grandfather. But a wise young King listens to his counselors and heeds their advice until they come of age. And the wisest Kings continue to listen to them long after." Tywin was genuinely smiling at him now, and Tommen could tell that the old Lion had hope for his family. His smile temporarily faded as he looked down to his other grandson, disdain clearly written across his face. "Your brother was not a wise King. He was not a good King. Perhaps if he were, he'd still be alive."
Tommen could sense Cersei twitch in the background. He could care less; she may be his mother, but she proved all to clearly that she doesn't care about him. He only had to reflect on his past life to know that. He began to walk up the stairs with his grandfather. As they began to discuss why it is that a King needs a Queen, he was met by his Uncle Jaime. He could hear him talking, but he couldn't register any words; he simply nodded and went about his way with his grandfather. He was trying to think of how best to rid the world of its problems and make things right; make things better than what he saw transpired.
It chilled him to the bone to realize that the best way forward possible meant removing his mother from power; perhaps even have her killed. It would have to look like an accident. He just had to find one way to make these things work. For now, he needed to consult with someone that might have a better vision for the future. The first thing he had to do, however, was cut old ties before they could rise up against him and cause his downfall again. Once he returned to his chamber, he asked for Ser Bronn of the Blackwater and Lord Varys to be summoned.
Bronn arrived first, and he chose to get straight to the point with his intentions. "My uncle said you were a reliable man. I like to think that he was right in that sense."
"What can I do for you, your Grace?" Bronn asked him. "Is there someone that needs killing?"
"Yes and no. I wonder, how would you kill someone but make it look as if it were an accident? Or that perhaps they took their own life?" Tommen asked him.
Bronn looked surprised briefly, but recovered to give the young King his response. "I suppose the easiest ways would be to either strangle them and then hang them, or to simply take a rock and smash it upside the back of their head, then proceed to have them set at the bottom of a flight of stairs. It would depend entirely on what you would have in store for the person. Do you intend to have this done to someone?"
"That'll be all for now Ser Bronn of the Blackwater. I may yet have need of your services in the future. I don't know what my Uncle Tyrion promised you, but I can tell you that your service to me will be rewarded beyond measure. You have my leave." With that, a very curious Bronn left the King's quarters, and passed along Lord Varys as the Spider entered the room. "You wanted to speak with me, your Grace?" the Spider asked. Tommen nodded in response.
"How may I serve you today?" Varys asked.
"Lord Varys, I wish to know where these secret tunnels are that I have heard so much about. As my brother was just murdered, I have reason to believe that anyone with the knowledge of these tunnels could pose a threat to my life or the lives of my family. I wish to be a better King than Joffrey, and that starts with taking better care of family than he did. I also want to arrange a meeting with Prince Oberyn Martell of Dorne. Tell him it is of upmost importance."
"Of course, your Grace. I understand wanting to protect your loved ones; I shall have schematics from my personal library brought up to you at once. Can you tell me why, though, that you would wish to meet with Prince Oberyn Martell? The Martells do not exactly have a happy history with either side of your family."
"It is in times like these that our friends should be close and our enemies closer. If the Martells are our enemies, then I want to change that. And I have the perfect fruit to dangle in front of Prince Oberyn to get him on our side."
"I take it you are referring to Ser Gregor Clegane?"
"Lord Varys, that monster has done enough horrendous things. I know the stories, and I have seen his actions carried out at the Tournament of the Hand for the late Eddard Stark. I do not care what my mother and grandfather think, that beast must be put to the sword. Whether it be by our own, by the Dornish Prince's, or someone else's. My brother was a fool during his reign as King, and I intend to do what is best for all of Westeros."
Varys smiled a sincere smile and nodded his head in agreement. "Of course, your Grace. I understand entirely. Is there anything else that you wish to discuss with me?"
"As a matter of fact, yes, Lord Varys, there is. I want the entirety of the underground of King's Landing rid of the wildfire caches that remain underneath it."
Varys paled for a moment before asking, "What would you have done with it, your Grace? It's an extremely volatile compound."
"I have an idea that might prove to be helpful. Lastly, I wish to have word sent to Castle Black. I need to get valuable and important information to someone there, Jon Snow, Eddard Stark's bastard.
Later that evening, Tommen's room was lit by candlelight, his table covered with scrolls of information, as well as the letters he was sending out. He finished signing the bottom of two such letters, addressed to Winterfell and to Castle Black. He intended to do away with the Boltons. He would summon them to King's Landing. His vision before the Seven had showed him that those monsters needed to be punished for what they had done. Tommen knew that they were at war with the Starks at the time, but it was the most heinous of sins to have guests killed while invited into one's home, especially at a wedding. He needed to find out where Sansa and Arya were. He looked at the sword that now hung in his room, the King's room.
Widow's Wail, as it had been called by his brother. He would rechristen it with a better name. Peacemaker, he would call it. He would bring peace back to the lands of Westeros, and that sword would be the instrument he would use. He had the power to change this world, and for the better.
He heard a knock on his door and was surprised to be visited at this hour. "Come in," he said towards the door. The door opened, and in walked his soon-to-be wife.
"My lady," he said, "I wasn't expecting your arrival. Had I known you were coming, I would have cleaned up this room some."
Margaery let out a small giggle. "I'm pleased to surprise you, your Grace. Although I will say I am surprised myself to see you at your desk and not in your bed at this hour."
"To be fair, my brother left quite the mess for me to clean up. I know I'll have the rest of my life to right his wrongs, but I wanted to get an idea of the path before me. What can I do for you, my lady?"
Margaery came to his side then, standing close but not hovering over him. He rose up out of his seat, standing to meet her. "I wanted to properly get to know the man I'm set to marry," she said quietly. "I wanted to know the King that I'll serve." She was close enough for him to smell her perfume. Tommen reached out then, gently taking ahold of her hand. "My lady, this much I can tell you. I will end this war. Our reign will be without threat, or worry, or any cause for concern. And I will not let any harm come to us. My father was felled by a boar, and my brother from his wine. I intend to take care of our enemies before they have a chance to hurt us."
"You believe we have enemies?" she asked, actual concern slipping into her voice.
"I would think so. A King will always have some kind of adversaries to deal with. It's my job to do away with the threats to my Kingdom, especially any threats leveled towards me or those I care about. I haven't told anyone yet, but I intend to have my sister brought home not long after our wedding. If someone was willing to target my brother, I can't take the risk that they won't target my sister."
"Those are all understandable concerns, your Grace."
"Please. We're going to be married soon. You can call me Tommen, at least when we're alone."
"I suppose that's fair, so long as you call me Margaery." They both smiled sweetly towards one another. She leaned forward and pressed a kiss to his cheek, making him feel like that shy teenager he was in his previous life for the briefest of moments. "Get some sleep Tommen. I have a feeling these next few days will be busy for the both of us."
"I have a feeling you're right. Goodnight, Margaery. Sweet dreams." She left from his room and closed the door behind her. Tommen wait a couple of minutes, then opened the door again to find Ser Loras standing guard for his bed chambers. "Your Grace, is everything alright?" Loras asked. Tommen nodded in response. "I'm fine Ser Loras. Thank you." With that, he closed the door and walked over to his desk, blowing out the candles still a lit. He then called for Ser Pounce to join him on the bed, and settled into a sleep that he hoped and prayed would be restful and without worrying thoughts or stress.
He was asleep within a minute.
