Tommen arose before the sun was peeking through the curtains of his window. There was much to do, and such precious little time to do it.
He notified one of his servants to send for Ser Bronn of the Blackwater. Within an hour, the former sellsword-turned-knight stood before the young King. "I imagine you have a good reason for rousing a man out of a beautiful woman's bed at this hour, your Grace," Bronn said, slightly irritated.
"I assure you, good Ser, it is always for a good reason. I have a list of names that need to be eliminated. I want you to pick ten men that will follow your every word and order, and not once give you cause for mistrust or not following through. Upon completion of completing this assignment and a few more, I will not only grant you the reward you are deserving of, I am going to grant you a position on my Small Council." That seemed to snap Ser Bronn out of his irritable stupor. "I beg your pardon, your Grace?"
"I believe you heard me correctly, Ser Bronn. I intend to add a new seat onto my Small Council, and that'll be for the position of Master of War. The Master of War will need to be a grizzled veteran, one who would not only have the knowledge of warfare, but also the wisdom to speak honestly with their King in times of war. All signs point to you being an honest man, Ser Bronn. I don't know what my Uncle Tyrion promised exactly but know that while a Lannister always pays their debts, a Baratheon is a man of their word. I intend to make you a Lord; of course, you need to scratch off every name on that list. I will sleep easier, and so will those that I intend to take care of.
"What's this about Ser Meryn Trant? The child beater? Why would you put a member of your own Kingsguard on this list?"
"Ser Meryn Trant is loyal to my mother, not me. He was vicious towards Sansa Stark when she was here, and quite frankly, I know that he's someone that you wouldn't mind gutting in public or private. I added him onto that list not just for the fact that he's a blight on my Kingsguard, but also to make it a bit of a consolation prize with the others on the list."
"And this High Sparrow? What do you wish to do with him?"
"Simple. Mount his head and the heads of all the fanatics who follow him onto spikes, and let it be known that fanaticism of any kind will not be tolerated in my city. The Gods may judge us, but it is the laws of men as well that must be obeyed. I won't let anyone break them."
"Fair enough, your Grace. Is there anything else you'd like for me to do, before I get my business started?"
"Yes. I would like for you to tell me more about my Uncle Tyrion's thoughts on wildfire, and how you used it to such great effect at the Battle of Blackwater Bay."
Later that evening, after a stressful day of ups and downs, as well as some fishing time with his grandfather Tywin, Tommen rested in bed for a little bit. He thought about the things to come in his head. He knew Tyrion's trial would start soon, and he knew that Tyrion would kill his grandfather Tywin. He also knew that the Spider would flee with his murderous uncle, and defect to the Dragon Queen. He had an idea of how to handle two birds with one stone, but he knew that it would be something tremendously risky. But right now, there was one issue that was at the forefront of his mind.
He decided that he would go and visit his mother at this late hour.
When he arrived at her door, he knocked, having his mother roused from her bed. "Tommen, are you alright my darling? What's bothering you at this hour?" He needed to make it seem as if he was her lost lion cub, needing a mother's guidance and answers. Tommen knew that in order for him to do this, he had to make it seem that he trusted her wholeheartedly, so that she couldn't suspect a thing. He may have once held love for the woman before him, but that was in another life. He knew what she would do, what her actions would lead to altogether. He just couldn't let that happen.
"I need your help mother. I need guidance. I never expected to rule. Now that it's upon me, I don't know how I'm going to do this. Can you walk with me some, please?" She nodded; of course she would take this opportunity to further sink her claws into her last remaining son. She needed to. After Joffrey, the pain was too great. She accompanied her son, as they began to walk the halls and climb the stairs throughout the Red Keep. "What's on your mind, my son?"
"A great many things mother." He had to make some kind of story, for her to believe. "I've been plagued by dreams lately. I've had a lot on my mind with what all is happening here and across the Narrow Sea. I fear what is to come." Cersei nodded her head in an understanding nature. "My son, when you are King, there will be time to solve all of these issues. First and foremost, is taking care of ourselves. Only when we've eliminated the threats to us that we can eliminate the threats to the realm."
They stood before the top of the staircase, where mother turned to son, reaching out to lay a comforting hand to his cheek. Tommen knew it was only an act. He knew that the woman before him was a monster that had an agenda, and that agenda would see them all dead before she would ever relent. He had to save lives now. "Tommen, you will be a great King. But to be a great King, you must make sacrifices."
"I know. And for that, I'm so sorry mother."
"What are you sorry about my son?" Cersei asked, that arrogant smile on her face.
Tommen then remembered back to one of the visions the Seven had shown him. He remembered what Bran Stark's words had been to his Uncle Jaime before the Battle of Winterfell and the death of the Night King.
"The things we do for love."
"Tommen, wh-"
She was cut off as he pulled the rock out from within his robes. He had found a sizeable one he had used for killing the fish once he had caught them and brought it back with him. He struck his mother on the back of her head, hard, before shoving her down the staircase. She rolled, and when Cersei Lannister hit the bottom of the staircase, she was very much dead. No one would suspect foul play. She had dropped her wine goblet along the way, spilling the contents of her cup. Her head had landed perfectly on the edge of the last step, splitting the back of her skull open and leading to her demise. Had it not been for the split skull, the broken rib puncturing a lung and the snapped spinal cord would have done the trick as well. All he had to do now was sell the act.
"GUARDS!" Tommen called, adding the edge of fright and the tears to his voice. Ser Boros and another Kingsguard he did not recognize came bounding around the corner, stopping at the sight before them. The young soon-to-be King Tommen was at the bottom of the staircase, cradling his mother's body in his heads. The rock he had used was back in his robe pocket, and he was openly weeping over his mother's body. "S-she fell," he barely got out. "She was d-drinking a-a-and swaying. I told her to stop but she... she just..." Tommen continued to cry.
"Send for the Hand and Ser Jaime," Ser Boros said. "I will stay here with him."
Within minutes, Tywin and Jaime Lannister came rushing to the scene. Jaime immediately began to weep, kneeling by his sister's side, as Lord Tywin stood over the scene, a silent tear falling from his face. He saw his son and grandson, and knew that yes, that had to be a purely cruel twist of fate from the Gods. Bad enough he had Tyrion as a son; now his only daughter, and perhaps the one piece he had left on the board, was dead of her own doing. He had told that woman to quit her constant drinking, otherwise she would become a drunkard like her imp of a brother. Now it cost Cersei her life.
"We should go. There is nothing more the maesters can do. Let the Silent Sisters do their work."
A tearful Jaime and Tommen got up, leaving the maesters and Silent Sisters to do their work. Jaime wanted to stay, but Tywin put an arm around his son and pulled him away from the scene. None of them could bare to see the dead body of Cersei sprawled out at the bottom of the staircase anymore.
"See to it that the King's room is guarded at all times from this moment forward. I will not lose another family member, whether it be to some would-be assassin, or some random, twisted act of fate," Lord Tywin spoke firmly. They were back at the door of Tommen's room now. "My boy, I am so deeply sorry you had to witness that." If only you knew, grandfather Tommen thought to himself. "There was nothing I could do. Not for my brother, or my mother," Tommen spoke somberly. "What kind of King can I be if I don't protect those that I love?"
Tywin put a hand on his grandson's shoulder. "My boy, there are some things in life that we simply have no power over. No one could save your mother from herself, just as no one could save King Robert from himself. It's a tragic thing, yes, but we must not dwell on such things. It will only do us more harm than good."
"How do you know, grandfather?" Tommen asked.
"Because I wondered what I could have done differently to save the life of my Joanna from dying when she did," he said, after partial hesitation. "Fret no more, Tommen. Things will get better."
Tommen nodded silently, taking in the words of his wise grandfather. With the main accuser of the upcoming trial dead, he wondered how things would go now. One thing was certain though; the price of his mother's life granted hundreds of thousands of people their own life. He would do better. He would be better. He had to be, for the sake of the people in this war.
Tommen awoke the next morning, much on his mind as usual. But today would be different.
The whole world was about to find out that his mother, the Queen Regent, was dead.
Another funeral would be held, followed by his coronation. Tommen knew that what would follow would be a mixture of condolences, congratulations, and well wishes. He would have to sit through it all, and further discuss the going abouts of things. But before anything further was to be done, he had important business to see to with his newly acquired sellsword.
"Ser Bronn," Tommen greeted him. The sellsword nodded towards the young Lion. "Your Grace," he said. "I heard the news this morning. I'm sorry for your loss. A tumble down the stairs is no way to go."
Bronn didn't say anything after that. His eyes spoke it all. Someway, somehow, he knew that this young, green-pissing boy was the one who actually sent his mother to death's door, knocking. One doesn't ask about how to kill someone, make it look accidental, and then the very thing happen within a day or so later.
"I take it that you have executed the High Sparrow?" Tommen asked him.
"Yes, him and all his fanatics. All dead. As well as that child-beating fucker," Bronn spoke, grinning at the last part. His disdain for Ser Meryn was well-known, and he didn't hesitate to boast about killing the dishonorable knight. He most certainly enjoyed getting blood all over his pretty white cloak.
"Good. As promised Ser Bronn, I will uphold my end of the deal. After my coronation today, I intend to have my first small council meeting tomorrow morning, an hour after sunrise. I shall have you there, as well as my grandfather, Uncle Jaime, and some of the others I have decided to have on my council."
"I appreciate your generosity, your Grace."
"You have my leave, Ser Bronn. But before you go, here." Tommen reached into his pocket and tossed a small bag of gold to him. "Celebrate your promotion at whatever brothel of your choosing. Just don't be late tomorrow." The former sellsword turned knight smiled at the young man. "Of course, your Grace."
"May the Warrior grant him courage and protect him in these perilous times. May the Smith grant him strength that he might bare this heavy burden. May the Crone, she that knows the fate of all men, show him the path that he must walk, and guide him through the dark places that lie ahead. In the light of the Seven, I now proclaim Tommen of the House Baratheon, First of His Name, King of the Andals and First Men, and Lord of the Seven Kingdoms." The High Septon placed the crown on his head and stepped back behind him. "Long may he reign!"
"Long may he reign!" the crowd responded, cheers and applause ringing throughout the Red Keep. His grandfather and Uncle Jaime stood nearby, proud smiles on their faces. His eyes drifted down to Margaery in the crowd, a pleasant and warm smile on her face. He raised a hand to bring the applause to a halt and spoke before his people as King for the first time.
"My people. I know that we have faced many tribulations in recent times. We lost many at the Battle of Blackwater Bay, and we continue to wage war with those still in open rebellion of my Kingdom." At this moment, he pulled out the sword of his deceased brother, it's Valyrian steel shining in the light of the room. "This sword belonged to my brother. He named it Widow's Wail, as a tribute to the cruelty that he brought about in his reign as King. I am rechristening it today as Peacemaker, as it shall help to bring forth the peace and prosperity that this realm so desperately needs. Just as my father vanquished the dragons, so too shall I vanquish any and all threats to the dream that shall be realized: a united Westeros."
Cheers erupted throughout the room, and when he looked to his Uncle Jaime and grandfather Tywin, he saw the mixture of surprise and pride on their faces. Neither of them had expected him to give a speech, let alone a rousing one. Tommen had it in his mind to be a better King in this lifetime than in the previous one. He was going to be better in every way imaginable.
After the cheers died down, the feast was had, and the good times were plenty. His soon-to-be wife stood nearby, conversing with other ladies of the realm, and his grandfather stood off to the distance, talking with his Uncle Jaime.
"He sits the throne like he was born to it, doesn't he?" Tywin asked.
"Yes. Though he may not have been born to it, he may be the first King deserving to sit in that damned chair since Aegon I."
"He will need all the help he can get. I fear we have difficult times ahead of us, my son."
"Our King seems to think that as well. He gave quite the rousing speech, didn't he?"
"Yes, he did. Even if his reign is in its infancy, Tommen has already proven to be a better King than his brother or father before him." Tywin turned to look directly at his son, the Lord Commander of the Kingsguard. "Perhaps he should have been King all along. I doubt we would be in this mess if he were."
"Father, we have no way of knowing-"
"Jaime, don't be delusional. Your sister, the Seven rest her soul, had no control over her unhinged monster of a son. She had his head filled with the idea that his reign would usher in glory and greatness. Instead, he started a war by killing Eddard Stark, then proceeded to show his madness to the world. I don't believe in the Seven, or any kind of destiny my son, but I believe that Tommen is our best chance at survival in this war." Jaime was silent throughout all this, taking it all in. He knew that his Lord father was speaking the truth.
"I only hope that it isn't too late to make things right throughout the lands."
"It isn't too late. But that is something we will discuss later."
And later they would.
Tommen then sat the throne in an empty throne room, minus his Kingsguard with the exception of his Uncle Jaime. He sat on the throne, Peacemaker in his hand, crown upon his head. The doors opened to reveal his Uncle Jaime and grandfather Lord Tywin walked in, seeing him upon the throne with sword in hand.
"You look as I once did, sitting in that chair with sword in hand. All that's missing is you wearing armor," Jaime said with a smirk on his face.
"A true King indeed, your Grace," Tywin praised.
"I appreciate the compliments, Uncle Jaime, grandfather. I hope this image of strength is what the rest of the realm sees. Now, we have serious matters to discuss. There are vacancies that need filling. Grandfather?" Tywin turned to his son beside him. "It is time you take up the mantle of responsibility that you forsook so long ago," Tywin spoke to Jaime.
"You cannot possibly be serious about this!" Jaime spoke, anger and frustration prevalent in his voice.
"I am as serious as the Stranger. Casterly Rock needs a Lord, and your Uncle Kevan won't be available, just as I won't be available. It must be you," Tywin said.
"I am a Kingsguard, sworn for life!" Jaime exclaimed, temper flaring.
"That may be true, Uncle. But as mother once pointed out, is it your death, or the death of your King? Joffrey died. Nothing can be done about it. But this is something that you need. I know that mother's death has affected you deeply." Tommen took a deep breath and then spoke firmly, "Ser Jaime Lannister, I hereby release you from your oath of the Kingsguard. You are to return to Casterly Rock and rule there, taking up the duties of the family and furthering on the Lannister family line." Tommen hoped he appeared as confident as his words were.
"Tommen, please, I'm begging you to reconsider. You need me here, now more than ever!" Jaime pleaded with him.
"Uncle, I need you there! It is not up for discussion or debate. Nor is my next decision," Tommen said.
"And what might that be?" Jaime asked incredulously.
"I'm sending Uncle Tyrion to take the Black. That is his punishment for the regicide he was accused of by my mother."
Lord Tywin look heavily displeased at this. "Why are you sending that stain on my family's pride to the Black? He is guilty, and you know it."
"I also know you see him simply as a loose end. I have read reports recently of Wildling attacks at Castle Black, and the strategist of the Battle of Blackwater Bay would serve them well. You no longer have to put up with him, justice gets served, and Castle Black receives a very important ally. Everyone wins."
"Tommen, I know you don't want to see your uncle put to death, but we must have a trial-" Tywin's patience slipping.
"GRANDFATHER!" Tommen roared, raising his voice to match that of a lion's. "My decision on both matters is final. This is not up for debate or discussion. You both will do as you are told, by order of your King!" Tommen added an edge to his voice that he did not know he possessed. He imagined it was the strength given to him by the Smith. "I have a vision for this Kingdom, and it will be realized. I need you both to play your parts and help me bring this Kingdom back to some semblance of order. My brother left quite the mess for all of us, and it is because of his cruelty that we are even in this position to begin with. I need your help. Will you help me?"
It was his Uncle Jaime that spoke first. "Against my better judgement, I will do as you ask, your Grace." Tommen looked to his grandfather. "And you, Lord Tywin?" His grandfather was still agitated, but he relented. "I have served the King before. I shall do so again. If you wish to send the murderer of your brother out of your sight to the Wall, then I shall support the decision, no matter how much disdain I have for it." That last little part was enough to make Tommen snap again.
"I will do as I see fit, grandfather. I will not be seen as malleable by anyone, be it my enemies or my own family. Joffrey was a cruel, weak-minded fool. And you're a fool to think that Uncle Tyrion is more of a monster than the one who sat the throne before me. So he killed your wife? Think about how many husbands and wives were put to the sword because of Joffrey's incompetence and our mother's goading him. The only good to come of either of their passings is that neither will cause any further needless deaths."
That comment seemed to set off Jaime. "You truly believe that your mother was going to do that which your older brother had done? Cause more death and destruction?"
"Of course. It was evident from the moment that Joffrey began to bend to Margaery's will that she saw the Tyrell's as a threat. She wanted them dead. I heard her say it myself. Mother had no desire for peace and prosperity. She craved only power and control, and if it wasn't something she agreed with, she wanted it dead."
"You almost talk as if her death was beneficial to you Tommen."
"Careful grandfather. You know just as well as I how my mother was volatile like Wildfire. She had a temper and no wits. She thought that power was power, and that in the end, you either play the Game of Thrones or you die. I'm King now. I don't have time for games, I have seven Kingdoms to rule, and I'm getting trouble out of all of them in some form or fashion." Tommen rose from the Iron Throne, sword still in hand. He leveled the sword at the both of them. "And for the record, Uncle Jaime, grandfather, here's something you probably didn't realize. Mother almost killed me the night that Stannis Baratheon attacked the city. She had a vial of poison, ready to shove it down my throat. Had it not been for you coming to the rescue grandfather, she most likely would've given it to me. That's the type of woman that would have been lurking about, plotting the demise of those who aren't us, even when they come to save us." Tommen lowered his sword, sheathed it, then marched past the both of them, his Kingsguard in tow behind him.
"Who is to be my replacement, as your Lord Commander, your Grace?" Jaime asked him.
"Ser Arys Oakheart shall hold the position. He has served honorably under my predecessors. It is time he be rewarded as such," Tommen spoke. With that, he left the throne room, leaving his bewildered uncle and grandfather behind him.
The next morning, one hour after sunrise, he arrived in the Small Council chambers, located in the Tower of the Hand. His grandfather sat in the position of Hand of the King, and his great uncle Kevan Lannister sat in as Master of Coin; Tywin and Tommen both agreed that a Lannister should be in charge of paying debts. Master of Ships was given to Mace Tyrell, as both a wedding gift and choice of wisdom. Tommen knew nothing of ships, and Mace Tyrell had laid out the perfect blockade against Stannis Baratheon during Robert's Rebellion. It only made sense.
Ser Arys Oakheart sat in his new position as Lord Commander of the Kingsguard. Pycelle was done away with and sent back to Casterly Rock; Tommen found him to be a liability, and a weakness waiting to be exploited. Instead, he had sent word for the maester that had tended to his Uncle Jaime's, Qyburn. He was happy to find Lord Varys in his usual seat of Master of Whispers. Everyone was shocked to see Prince Oberyn Martell enter the chambers, and with him was Ser Bronn of the Blackwater.
Tommen stood up then from his seat. "I imagine everyone is surprised at our two guests here. As King, I have decided to add a new seat to the Small Council. Ser Bronn of the Blackwater has proven his merit time and time again. It only made sense to add a grizzled veteran and killer as my new Master of War. His counsel is welcome here, and it will not be disrespected. As for Prince Oberyn Martell, I have decided to offer him the position of Master of Laws, which he has happily accepted." He paused for a moment, looking around at the table. "I know that some of you in this room have less than amiable feelings towards one another, which is why I am simply going to tell you to put aside your differences and help me form a better Kingdom since the days of dragons. The people of this Kingdom deserve better than what they've been given in recent years." He sat down, just as Oberyn and Bronn took their seats.
"My first order of business with you all is something I have already discussed with the Hand. Tyrion Lannister will not be tried for the alleged murder of my brother, Joffrey Baratheon. He is being sent to the Wall to carry out his sentence at Castle Black. He shall prove to be valuable to their defenses, considering he bested Stannis Baratheon's initial invasion forces in the Battle of Blackwater Bay." This was met with nods of acceptance. Further conversations continued, with talks of his upcoming wedding to his betrothed Margaery. "On another note, Prince Oberyn's position here is only temporary. Once my sister and his nephew are wed, Myrcella and her husband will return to King's Landing, and Trystane Martell will take up the position of Master of Laws."
Tywin seemed to understand his grandson's reasoning now. Still, he did not care one single bit for Prince Oberyn Martell. Though he would vehemently deny it, he gave the order to have the royal family killed when he sacked the city decades prior. He did not calculate the Mountain to rape as he did, but he had told him and Amory Lorch to carry out their executions. "Your Grace, may I have a word with you after our business has concluded here?"
"Of course, Lord Hand." Not long after, the other Lords present left, until it was just the two of them. "Why in the Seven Hells would you bring that man in here, knowing the history between our families?" Tywin asked without missing a step.
"Grandfather, you need to understand something. So long as my sister, the last sibling I have left in this Gods-forsaken world, is in the land of Dorne, I will do what I can to make sure she is safe. And you're going to help me in doing so."
"Oh, is that so?"
"Yes. Otherwise, I will send you back to Casterly Rock to live out your days and find someone else who will do as I command."
"I seem to remember another King that was young and wanted to do as he liked."
"Careful Lord Tywin. I would think a lion would be wiser not to provoke the head of his pride. I'm a far different King from my brother, and you know it. I find it rather insulting to compare me to Joffrey."
"Forgive me, your Grace, I meant no offense," Tywin spoke firmly. "I only wish to know what it is that you are trying to do here."
"I am trying to make peace and settle petty differences that will bring an end to all that we know. You have the Mountain, and he needs to be handed over to the Martells to satiate their bloodlust for our family's blood."
"And what makes you think that I will do that?" Tywin asked, eyes narrowing.
"Because if you don't sacrifice your pride for one fucking minute," Tommen cursed, "Myrcella's life will be forfeit. And I will see to it that you suffer for her death before you pass away yourself. Do not think that I would not stoop to levels unbecoming of a King. I will do whatever it takes to make things right in this realm, even if it wounds your ego."
Tywin's face was hardened, anger visible on his face. "I will consider your words, your Grace."
"Don't consider them, Lord Tywin. Do as I have commanded. I'm giving you one week to make peace with Prince Oberyn Martell, or it will cost you dearly. You have my leave." Tywin moved towards the door, moving in a hurry and with anger. He turned around one last time, to speak to the King. "Is there anything more you wish for me to do, your Grace?"
"Yes. You will accompany Uncle Jaime and myself to see Tyrion make his leave for Castle Black."
After the conclusion of the Small Council meeting, Tommen made his way to the Black Cells, accompanied by Ser Arys Oakheart. He wanted to speak with his other uncle in private. As he made his way down the steps, he could hear his Uncle already talking to somebody. He was both surprised and not surprised to see Lord Varys conversing with his Uncle Tyrion. "I see I'm not the only one wanting to visit my uncle."
"Ah yes, your Grace, I came to talk to him about their not being a trial. I did not tell him the reason why, however. I figured you were planning to tell him yourself."
"You guess correctly, Lord Varys. Thank you. Now if you'll excuse me, I wish to speak with him in private," Tommen spoke.
"Of course, your Grace. I'll be on my way then." The Spider made his way up the stairs of the Black Cells.
"I was wondering what all has happened since my imprisonment down here, dear nephew," his Uncle Tyrion quipped. "What brings you to my humble abode?"
"Well, Uncle, I wanted to tell you firsthand. Grandfather wanted you dead, as did mother. They wanted a farce of a trial. But that changed when just a few nights ago, mother tripped and fell down the stairs. She's dead now."
Tyrion looked as if he had been gutted. Sure, there was no love between him and his sister, but she was still his sister. "I don't know what to say Tommen. I'm so sorry." We both killed our mothers Uncle Tommen thought. The only difference between us is that I meant to do it to mine.
"After Joffrey's death, I've become numb to it. Her passing saddened me, yes, but it also showed how little of a connection we had. She always cared for her precious, perfect lion. My older brother was far from perfect. Grandfather may think you a monster, Uncle, but truthfully my own brother was the real monster. Which now brings about the next part of our conversation. I'm sending you to the Wall instead. Tomorrow morning, you'll make leave for Castle Black, and tomorrow afternoon it will be announced to the public what has transpired. I have no reason to humiliate you, like grandfather might. But your King does have an important task for you."
Tommen handed him his letter for Jon Snow, meant only to be read by him. "Take this to Jon Snow, Eddard Stark's bastard. Have him read the contents of this letter, then have him write back to me as soon as he can. It is of upmost importance, Uncle. I told the Small Council that my reasoning for sending you to the Wall was because of your experience at the Battle of Blackwater Bay. You can make a difference up there with the defense of the castle against the Wildling attacks I've heard so much about."
"I truly don't know what to say Tommen. You may have very well saved my life." His Uncle Tyrion was on the brink of tears.
"I listened to reason, and I didn't give into madness Uncle. I've only got one chance to make things right, and I need all the help I can get." He reached through the bars, extending his hand to Tyrion. "No matter what grandfather says, I know you will make the Lannisters proud up there in the north." Tyrion took his hand, shaking it. "Tommen, I always knew there was a good reason why you were my favorite nephew." They both exchanged small smiles, and then Tommen turned to Ser Arys. "Have the guards give my uncle an actual bed to sleep on tonight. He'll be heading to the Wall soon. I want his last night with us to be comfortable for him." Ser Arys nodded, "At once, your Grace."
Tommen then moved to leave, giving one final nod to his Uncle Tyrion. "I'll see you in the morning Uncle. Get some rest while you can."
Tommen arrived not long after back to his personal chambers. He was surprised to find that he was not alone.
"My King," Margaery curtsied towards him. "I wished to see you again."
Tommen turned to Ser Arys, nodding to him that he would be alright alone with his future bride. "I won't deny that seeing you does me good Margaery. Heavy grows the head that wears the crown, and I've had a full day to say the least. What would you like to discuss?"
She walked forward, ever the temptress, laying a gentle hand on his chest, and spoke, "I wish to know everything there is to know about King Tommen, First of His Name. And I wish to know how I can help relieve a mind so heavily burdened." She did sound sincere, at the very least.
He brought one of his hands up to gently grasp her hand on his chest. "I do know one such way to relieve me," Tommen spoke softly, his voice dropping to a gentle sound. "One kiss from the future Queen of Westeros would purge most of my troubles." She smiled at that, then leaned in to give him a warm and gentle kiss on his lips. He returned the kiss, savoring in the taste of her, and for the briefest of moments, he felt as if he were himself in his previous life. That moment vanished whenever they eventually broke away from each other. "I hope that drives away what ails you, Tommen." They rested their foreheads against each other, savoring in the moment of tenderness they shared. "It does plenty for me, Margaery. I wish to spend time together, just the two of us. Perhaps sailing, or maybe even a private picnic."
"I'm touched at you putting the realm on standby while we have time to ourselves. No man has ever cared so deeply, or acted so sweetly," Margaery spoke.
"I mean every word of it. I'm King, and I'll be marrying the most beautiful woman in the world. Why can't I enjoy some moments of levity with her?" Tommen asked.
"You're going to make a great King, Tommen. They'll talk of you and Jaehaerys I in the same conversations. They called him the Conciliator. What do you think they'll call you?"
"I don't quite know what the tomes will say of me when my reign is over. But I suspect they might say that my reign as King was only so prosperous because of the strong and loving Queen I had to back me." Tommen meant those words with every ounce of sincerity he possessed, and could see that Margaery knew it too. She chuckled softly before leaning forward and pressing another gentle and warm kiss to his lips. It was over too soon as she pulled away though, and she turned for the door. "I look forward to the night that I won't have to leave this room," she said kindly.
"As do I, Margaery. As do I," Tommen responded in kind.
I'm not letting anyone take you from me this time.