A Lust for Power [RoleplayMaster & Abiliciousxxx]

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Abiliciousxxx

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MARGAERY

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Swathed in robes of silken blue, Queen Margaery Tyrell strode through the halls of the Red Keep with her head held high. Her footfalls echoed lightly against the thick stone walls of the castle, but her heart was heavy, for today King Joffrey had been poisoned, and she was a Queen without a husband. It was not grief that weighed upon her however, but rather a sense of duty, and a foreboding impression that now time was of the essence.

Today was a day that she had been anticipating for what seemed like a lifetime, but before the day had ended her King was dead, murdered at his own wedding ceremony. She would not mourn for Joffrey—he was, after all, a cruel young man—but this afternoon’s events hadn’t half thrown everything about her into turmoil. Cersei would be even more paranoid than before, and she feared what ideas the woman might instil in young Tommen’s head.

Ah yes, Tommen. The King-to-be, and Margaery’s future husband. Whatever happened in the coming days and weeks, she must ensure that Tommen was on her side, and not that of his mother, the Queen Regent. And so with stately elegance she strode towards Tommen's living quarters, to impress upon him the importance of their coming union.

“I’ve come to see… the King,” she spoke upon reaching Tommen’s chambers, pausing momentarily before she transferred to him the title that only hours ago had belonged to his older brother. Her husband. Her King.

“Of course, your Highness,” answered the guard, bowing his head in reverence.

He opened the door for her and she swept within, the ends of her skirts trailing across the lavish red rug that lead into Tommen’s chambers. It cushioned the footsteps that had rung quietly in the hallways, the only sound that could be heard as she strode towards the bed chamber were that of the heavy wooden door closing behind her.​
 
Tommen Baratheon was a troubled young man. How could he not be, with a family with troubles. His mother was the Queen Regent, yet held no respect. Rumoured to have incest relations with her brother, Jaime. Whether she did or not, Tommen would hold his judgement until he knew it to be fact. His uncle was a warrior yet lost his hand, and now could barely protect himself let alone others. His sister was sent off to Dorne for an arranged marriage, and his brother, who had just been King, was poisoned at his own wedding. With those thoughts in mind, Tommen was by far the most normal of the Lannisters. Despite being a Baratheon, he had no one to compare himself to except his father who was a drunk and lazy, and killed while hunting a boar or some such creature.

Today, his brother had died at his own wedding. Poisoned. It would be hard to find out who did it, as no one enjoyed him as a king, so every single person had motive. Due to his sudden death, the title of King would be moved once again to the next member of the family, which turned out to be himself. Tommen had figured he would be in this spot at some point, but not this soon. As soon as the chaos had died down a bit, Tywin, his grandfather, gave him some books to study in order to become King officially within a week or two.

Did he want to be King though? This was the third time that the title had moved from person to person in a matter of years. Why would he want to be King when the last two didn't die of natural causes? Hell, someone intended the King to die, it was no accident. Would he be safe?

Tommen had been hunched over a book, staring at the words while he had these thoughts, the writing on the page not being processed. He had been startled out of them when the door suddenly opened. Due to his thoughts about safety, he was instantly weary, but relaxed as he saw who entered. Blushing lightly to himself, he realised that she would be the reason he became King. Who didn't want to be married to someone like her?

"Lady Tyrell" Tommen said formally, bowing his head from his spot on the chair. "To what do I owe the pleasure?" He asked. His voice sounded confident, but there was an inkling of doubt. Of timidness. He was not trained to be a King like his father and brother, and could muddle things up in an instant.
 
“The pleasure is mine, your Grace,” replied the queen, her voice like gossamer silk. Reverently she bowed her head before bringing her crystal blue eyes into contact with his, and suddenly she was quite curious to observe his reaction at being referred to with those two weighted words. On their shoulders they carried the promise of great power, but also great responsibility, for the two are never far from one another. They were words which Tommen would have to get used to hearing, and the position they implied was one he would have to grow into. Joffrey’s death would not change the regularity with which they passed Margaery’s lips however; the only change would be the face to which she spoke them, and the ears that heard them.

She paused only briefly, and with light, measured steps she approached the king-to-be, her skirts swishing almost silently about her feet as she moved. She walked with the grace and elegance befitting a queen, a form which she also retained with standing still, or sitting down. She had been well-prepared for her role as the leading lady of the Kingdoms, but she knew how to be sensual too.

“Word has it,” she continued, approaching Tommen and trailing one arm across the back of his chair as she circled behind it, and came to a standstill by his shoulder, “that I am to be your bride. It is soon, I know, but I have only today lost a husband—and you a brother—and I am left with a hole inside.”

Here she crouched down by his side, so as not to be standing over him. Her head by his upper arm, her forehead in line with his shoulder, she inclined his face towards his and looked him in the eye. With one manicured hand she reached out, paused, and with a sweetly apologetic smile she let it rest upon his knee.

“If you are to fill that hole, I felt it was best for us to get to know each other sooner rather than later. It is sad to say, but we have enemies, you and I, and I fear that Joffrey’s death will fill them with hope and ambition.”​
 
Tommen felt a little uncomfortable at being called 'Your Grace'. He had been born into wealth and power, so the respect given to him was given but not earned. He knew he needed to get used to being called Your Grace, but it would take some time. Margaery was a very beautiful woman and she acted as if she were born to be royalty, yet only one of the people in the room actually was born for that role. She clearly had the boy's attention, never looking away as she made her approach. His eyes only left her when she moved behind him.

She began to speak, and he could feel her arm on the back of his chair. She mentioned how there were rumours that she was to be his bride. He knew of these rumours of course, and how it was a true fact. He is to wed his brother's widow, so she may still be Queen, to keep the Lannister and Tyrell alliance alive.

She paused for a moment to get in a position that he could see her, which happened to be crouched in front of him. He couldn't help but think the positioning was a bit sexual in nature, especially when he felt her soft hand on his knee. He had never felt the touch of a woman in a sexual sense, and though this could not be considered sexual, it was a nice feeling.

Margaery continued to speak, mentioning a hole that needed filling which caused a blush to fill the young man's cheeks. She acted as if she didn't say anything wrong though, so he assumed it was his own dirty mind causing him to think like that. "Enemies" Tommen repeated softly, sighing. Probably those same enemies that had the rest of his family killed and butchered. "I understand your concern, so getting to know each other sounds like a good plan." He said, a little unsure of what she wanted to know, or what she wanted to tell him. "Please, take a seat and we can talk" Tommen smiled gently. There were a few chairs in his room, as well as the edge of the bed that she could sit on. If both of those were not Margaery's desire, she could take a seat upon Tommen's lap.
 
Smiling warmly, Margaery rose and pulled a chair close to Tommen's, sitting on its edge with her hands clasped atop her knees. The candlelight left one side of her face more shaded than the other, and left her sleek, feminine features looking more defined than usual.

"I want to know what makes King Tommen tick," she mused aloud, looking first into the boy's eyes, and then allowing her gaze to follow her hand as she brushed a few strands of loose hair back from his forehead. She sighed, and a hint of grief crept into her delicate features. Her jaw tightened, and she glanced askance at nothing in particular. After the day she had had—after the day they had all day—she should not feel so comfortable at the prospect of replacing Joffrey, nor growing intimate with anyone. She had her duties though, to the people of Westeros, and to her family. For the time being Tommen was but her brother-in-law, but soon he would be her groom.

"I am sorry, your Grace," she spoke, looking him in the eyes again, and letting her hand fall back to her lap. "Today has been such a... troubling day. You will forgive me if I cannot be as close to you as I would wish, I hope. I do want to get to know you better, though. I don't expect to understand everything that makes you you in one night, but with time it would please me to know what interests you... what troubles you... what excites you..."​
 
His eyes followed her as she grabbed a chair, sitting quite close to him in the dim lighting. She brushed a few stray strands of hair from his face, but didn't seem as happy as he would have liked. "Do not apologise" The boy said softly, looking at her. He wanted to comfort her in some way. A hug. A kiss. Even just rubbing her back. But he was too shy to make such a move. "Today hasn't been a good day for anyone, so taking our time with these things would be the best idea" He told her.

She wanted to know his interests, troubles and things that excited him, so he began to think of what to say. "My interests are in strategy and history surrounding previous battles and wars." He said. "I want to be able to ensure that we are safe if that man Stannis returns." Tommen added. Strategy was more of his grandfather's interest than his own, but Tywin made sure he would be taught.

"My troubles.." He began, before deciding not to delve that personally into his thought process yet, as she was mostly a stranger to him still. "..I can share another time. And as for what excites me.. I don't really know. People mostly say battle, but I fear it due to it leading to death. I'm not too good with weaponry either. Mostly my life has been sheltered so there hasn't been much that I can say I've been excited for. I guess horse riding is nice" He said, so he did not seem too boring. "And also I think my life will be more exciting when I become king with um.. with you by my side" He blushed lightly, looking over at her. "What about you? What are your interests and troubles? What excites you?" He asked curiously.
 
He really is a sensitive boy, Margaery thought to herself. So different from Joffrey. Her face showed no concerns however, and she giggled playfully when he spoke of them spending their lives together as king and queen. The insecurities he bore were plain to her, and though they were something he must shed to become a competent ruler, they did offer her some advantages in her quest to wrangle influence over him from his mother. He was a growing boy to boot, and growing boys had certain desires that could not be sated by a mother. Though who knows with Cersei…

“Fear not, your Grace,” she replied softly, compassion evident in her voice. Again her hand came to rest upon his knee. “You have the Seven Kingdoms at your service, and the best teaching that a king could hope for. You will… grow,” she said, glancing down as her thumb moved softly against his knee. “And you will make a good king; I am sure of it.”

Sighing, she pulled back and let her hand slip from the king’s leg.

“Joffrey… Joffrey made enemies quicker than he made allies, but you… you will not be like that. You can bring the kingdoms together, and with Highgarden at your back you can rule for a long time. You know the importance of allies, I trust? It is imperative that a king not make enemies close to home. Together our families can keep the peace, and I know that everyone in Highgarden is proud to be of service to King’s Landing.”

Margaery’s brother Loras was already a member of the Kingsguard, and her grandmother, Lady Olenna of House Redwyne, was a regular visitor to the halls and gardens of the Red Keep, though soon she would depart once more for Highgarden. Her father, Lord Mace Tyrell, the Lord of Highgarden, was Warden of the South. The Tyrell’s were a family with a rich, proud history, and were one of the most wealthy in all of the Seven Kingdoms; they were not a family that the Lannisters wanted to slight.

When he had given her his assurances, the now thrice-betrothed Margaery spoke of herself. She expressed her interest in people, and the lives of others, which fit well with her now famed generosity, and altruistic dealings with the common folk. She reiterated her interest in Tommen, and did so with a coy smile, and a bat of her eyelids. She spoke also of her concerns about those who would plot against the king, and why those concerns made it paramount that the alliance between Highgarden and King’s Landing never be compromised by anyone. Her tone was grave during these moments, her eyes eager to find assurance in his, but her demeanour lightened as she began to speak of her excitement at being queen, and having a wonderful, caring, good king by her side. Together they could bring peace and happiness to the Seven Kingdoms, she said, and raise good, noble children to follow in their place.​
 
Once again he felt her hand against his knee, smiling as he felt it. It was almost as if the more pressure she applied, the wider his smile grew. He was a quiet boy, so he mostly stayed silent and listened as she told him how the Seven Kingdoms were at his service, and then she explained how his brother made enemies quite quickly. "I do understand that allies are essential for survival. My intent is for everyone to live in peace, and the more people on our side, the closer we are to that goal."

Tommen went silent yet again as Margaery spoke of her interest in other people, which is something that he had assumed due to her now-famous meetings with the common folk. He admired her a lot for that and openly admitted that to her, and it was a shame that such a generous person had to marry Joffrey. That part he kept silent. A blush filled his cheeks as she mentioned having an interest in him, and the look she gave him only made his blush deeper.

The light mood soon darkened as she mentioned her concerns about people plotting against him, but he kept a small smile on her face, hoping to assure her that everything would be alright; if he wasn't worried, why should she be? The mood turned back to a positive way, as she mentioned her eagerness to become Queen, and having noble children with him. That last part made his fading blush return, and much deeper than before. "S-Speaking of that. I've uh.. You know.. never been with.. anyone" he stuttered, ashamed, as if everyone his age should have done it fifty times by now.
 
"I should hope not," she laughed, and again her hand flirted with his knee, patting it playfully now. "I am your betrothed; we must save ourselves for each other."

For a moment she held his gaze with smiling eyes, and knew from his blushing that she held sway over him. Whether it rivalled the influence his mother held was another matter, but she saw too that Tommen was a kind, fragile boy. He was not yet a man, but he held the potential to be a good king, and a good husband. She did not want to take advantage of his innocence, but a queen had her duties, and they were to her family as well as her people.

"Does that... excite you?" she asked, looking into his eyes. "That I will be yours and yours alone, and that you will be mine?"

Here she held his gaze, her bright, mesmeric blue eyes fixed on his, full of promise. A soft, playful smile lingered in the corners of her mouth, and her bottom lip moved subtly as she took it between her teeth and gently bit down, but this time she did not move to touch him. She sat facing him, close to him, sharing one of those brief moments that anticipation seems to stretch out to eternity.​
 
Her laugh was like music to his ears, despite that being a cliche. It was soft and had a hint of playfulness, and he could definitely get used to hearing it. "So you've never..?" he trailed off, but the question he was asking was clear. "No offence intended, just I'm amazed someone such as yourself has not been claimed before" He added hastily, not wanting to ruin anything.

The pauses in between her words seemed to just make everything sound.. sexier. He wasn't sure if it was the pause or the mention of being 'excited' by the thought of her being his and vice versa. "Y-Yes.. Yes it does excite me" He admitted shyly. "It's nice knowing that I'll have someone by my side" Tommen grinned at her.

Their eyes met, and he could not draw his eyes away. Her behaviour was still playful, gently biting down on her bottom lip. Tempting him to kiss her... or maybe he wanted to kiss her anyway. Tommen's breathing became a little faster as his nerves grew, unsure if she was waiting for him to make the first move, if she was going to, or if she didn't want any moves to be made. His face seemed to hold a nervous look of hope, unsure if he wanted something to happen, but wanting to find out.
 
Margaery laughed again, and again her laugh was a soft as the flapping of a butterfly’s wings, and her eyes as bright as the rising sun.

“Well… I was wed to Renly,” she mused, “but we…”

Trailing off, she shrugged her lips and did not deign to delve into Renly’s private life, though like Cersei’s incestuous relationship with Jaime Lannister, his secrets are not as furtive as he might wish.

“Well,” she continued, “suffice it to say that I am untouched. Does that… excite you? That I will be yours and yours alone, and that you will be mine?”

”Y-Yes… Yes, it does excite me. It’s nice knowing that I’ll have someone by my side.”

“It is, isn’t is? I think that we shall get along just fine, your Grace.”

She held his gaze a moment longer, and, raising a hand to his face, traced his features with the backs of her fingers. Her skin was soft and smooth, and warm against his, and her eyes took on a look of hopeful adoration, full of longing for the future. She felt bad for lying to him about her being untouched, but such were the demands her duties held on her, and he would never know any different anyway. Where the king’s jawline joined with neck and ear her hand overturned, curled its fingers gently behind his head, and she leaned close to him, slowly bringing her lips with in inches of his. She paused, rested her forehead against his, and at last kissed him… on the forehead.

“I should go, your Grace. I fear your mother would not approve of me coming to you so soon after Joffrey’s passing, but I honestly could not wait. May I come to you again tomorrow night?”​
 
It was difficult to tell sometimes, whether a laugh was aimed to be laughing with you or at you. With Margaery though, it seemed to just be simple laughter. No specific purpose, and that was the best kind. She mentioned being wed to Renly and he nodded as she trailed off. "It's alright, no need to delve into private matters" Tommen offered, as if knowing she would be uncomfortable with telling him something.

Her hand moved to his face, and he could feel her light touch against his skin. His eyes closed, leaning into the touch slightly before opening his eyes once again. It was a very light touch, but even that drove him crazy. He was already falling into her clutches and she barely had to do anything to him.

Margaery moved in close, enough that Tommen could feel her breath. His eyes watched her lips, wanting to watch as they made contact with his own. Instead though, her head moved upwards to his forehead. Instead of his eyes following her, they stayed in the same spot, his eyes looking down her shirt while she kissed his head. Despite it not being the first kiss he expected or desired, it was still amazing to feel her lips on his skin.

"O-Of course" he stuttered, waking out of his thoughts to answer her. "You are welcome back whenever you wish. We are betrothed after all, there is no reason you shouldn't come" Tommen smiled at her.
 
His lingering gaze made her smile, and though she had grown comfortable in her own skin and the knowledge that men found her attractive, it was still nice to know that the soon-to-be king was so transfixed by what lay beneath her bodice. She said nothing, and for all he knew she may not even have noticed him looking with innocent lust at her cleavage, the valley between her smooth, firm breasts so inviting to the eye.

"I am glad. I will visit you on the morrow so, but maybe we shouldn't say anything of this to your mother. She is likely to be very protective in the coming days, and rightly so."

Margaery let her eyes linger a moment longer on those of her betrothed, stood, and with her skirts sweeping about her feet she left the chambers, thanking Tommen for his time before vanishing into the hallway. She felt good about how her brief visit had gone, and was confident that she could fulfil her grandmother's wishes in ensuring the boy's loyalty. Cersei's motherly instincts would be kicked into high gear following the assassination of her eldest son, and only the gods knew what ideas she might try to instil in the boy's head. It was not as if she was Margaery's most adoring fan.​

CERSEI

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The following morning, Cersei Lannister swept into her son's room, all decked out in lush robes of jade green and Lannister gold. She had scarcely slept a wink overnight, and she was at her wit's end in the aftermath of the king's assassination. Her eldest son had been cruelly taken from her before her very eyes by some foul poison, and she could not rid her mind of the sight of him gasping and clawing at his throat as he writhed upon the stone pavings of the King's gardens, shortly before his life's essence evaporated, and his body fell limp. Someone—someone short and disfigured, she presumed, and related to her—had murdered her son, and this morning she had gotten word that Tommen had had a late night visitor.

"Tommen! What was that witch doing in here last night?!"​
 
Tommen waved goodbye to Margaery as she left, turning back to his work. He stayed up late in order to finish his work, though some of that time was spent just thinking of his late night visitor. Due to staying up so late, he slept in which was a rare occurrence. His bed was soft and the blankets were thick, so it was a very comfy bed and hard not to stay in bed.

He had been having a rather pleasant dream regarding him and his betrothed. He awoke when his curtains were pulled aside to bring in the sunshine. Once he gained consciousness, he noticed he had an erection, which was hiding under the thick blankets. Blinking his eyes a few times, he noticed he had a visitor. His mother.

"Witch? There was no witch here last night" Tommen yawned, scratching his head as he tried to figure out what she was saying. "Oh! Do you mean Lady Tyrell?" He asked, confirming before continuing. "She came by last night to make sure I was holding up okay. She lost a husband and I lost a brother, just like you have lost a son." His voice was slow and gentle, seeing that Cersei was not in a good mood. "Please don't call her a witch though, she was nothing but nice to me" He added.
 
"Of course she was," said Cersei beneath her breath, scowling towards nobody in particular. She was up to something, that Margaery, and Cersei didn't like it. She had enough on her plate to worry about without having to worry about the godforsaken Tyrells, and their lofty aspirations. Her own son had been murdered, and at the hand of her own brother! Poison... the choice of the weak and the cowardly... Sighing, the Queen Regent let her shoulders slump, and her head followed suit. Tommen was still a boy; he needed her guidance in steeling himself against friendly enemies.

"You know what is most important in the world, don't you Tommen?" she asked, taking a seat at the foot of his bed. And then, in that manner that mothers across the Seven Kingdoms are so accustomed to doing, she answered the question for him. "Family. You are a Lannister, Tommen, and we must look out for one another. Gods know we're not perfect, but we are all that each of us have, and when threats come from even within our own ranks we must be strong, and we must be cautious. Margaery is... oh, I suppose she's pretty, and she seems nice, but she is not a Lannister. She is not your mother. You won't allow her to steal you from me, will you Tommen? I've already lost Joffrey, and I... I can't bear to lose another son."

At the mere mention of Joffrey's name she felt her throat tighten up, and her voice came out cracked thereafter, as emotions again rose within her: grief and anger, suspicion, and love for her family, but predominantly grief. She raised her eyes again to Tommen's, and great sadness sat therein.​
 
His mother sat down on the edge of his bed, asking him if he knew what the most important thing in the world was. He had a few ideas, but he knew Cersei would tell him anyway. He was correct, telling him that family is the most important thing. Her speech was strong and very convincing, though she tried to show that he should not trust Margaery. He was about to reply when Cersei began to break down. Reaching forward, Tommen grabbed his mother and hugged her, letting her head rest in his chest as she was leaning over quite a bit.

"No one will steal me from you. I have my own mind and can make my own decisions, but family will be number one in my books. Family meaning Lannisters.. but Margaery is my betrothed, so she will soon join the family. That means we all need to trust her to do the right thing. She has done nothing to make me think otherwise, so I trust her. I want you to too" He told her gently.
 
Oh, Tommen. Sweet, naïve young Tommen. You really know nothing of this world. It was troubling to Cersei that he would soon be king, when he displayed so few of the qualities she deemed important to the position. Whatever could be said about Joffrey, he did not suffer fools lightly, and this Margaery Tyrell was a fool if she thought she could dance with the Lannisters. She knew, of course, that it was not solely Margaery; Olenna Tyrell was a conniving bitch, and the sooner the old hag kicked the bucket the better.

"We'll see, my dear," Cersei replied, drawing her head back from her son's chest and giving him a weak smile. "It's difficult to trust anyone right now, but as long as we have each other I am sure everything will work out fine. First we needs try that awful uncle of yours."

Another of the many emotions the Queen Regent was subject to now wrote its name upon her features. Her eyes narrowed at the thought of Tyrion and what he'd done, and her eyes burned with the lust for revenge. She would see him hanged for this, or worse. She should be attending to that now, but having heard that Margaery had visited Tommen last night she felt compelled to seek out his chambers post-haste, and inquire as to what this was all about. She realised now though that she would draw little from her son; he was young and impressionable, and she did not want to act too rashly lest it drive him into her arms. No, she must play a subtler game.​
 
Tommen nodded. "We'll always have each other. As you said, family needs to look out for one another." The boy smiled, watching as she drew away from him after having a small cry. "Do you really think Uncle Tyrion did it?" he asked. His voice was filled more with curiosity than judgement, as he 'knew' his mother was always correct. He did not know why his uncle would do such a thing in such a public place. He seemed much smarter than that, probably doing it in private where he couldn't get caught. Maybe someone framed him? Tommen of course would not share such thoughts with his mother, knowing that she hated his uncle.

"Is there anything else we need to work out?" He asked his mother. "I finished my homework about the Targaryen line and the battles they endured. Is there anything I need to work on?" He added. He wanted her to be proud of him, as Joffrey seemed to be the one that held his mother's affection the most as he was the eldest. Even Myrcella was liked more as she was the daughter. Myrcella was always on his mother's mind, as she was gone. Even when his sister wasn't here, she was more liked than Tommen. It just wasn't fair!
 
By the time Cersei left Tommen's chambers, the Keep was a furore of activity. Rumours were rife about an impending trial for Tyrion Lannister, and what might become of the Imp; the most likely result by far was death. The young king-to-be may have had his doubts as to his uncle's guilt, but his mother did not.

"I know part of you doesn't want to believe it," she told her son, "but your uncle is a vile little man, and he has always had a distaste for your brother. I am certain that he is behind this, and he will pay dearly for his crimes." Poison... That was just like Tyrion. Too weak and cowardly to kill a man to his face; shrewd and sly enough to perfectly fit his slimy character.

Joffrey's passing was likely to land Tommen more attention, but was also to reveal much of how she saw him; whether or not Tommen was astute enough to see it was another matter, and certainly Cersei would have doubted it had anyone posed her the question. Not that she would have reacted civilly to such a question, of course; the implication was that she saw her son as weak-willed and in need of guidance and protection, and she would be the one to offer that guidance and protection; to care for him as though he were incapable of doing anything himself, and to rule through him until he was more mature.

"Good boy," she told him when he brought up the subject of homework. "I shall send Grand Maester Pycelle to you presently. He'll inform you of what to work on next. It's about time he made some use of himself..."

The Queen Regent's cold, cynical exterior broke for a moment before she departed, and in a moment of compassion she assured her son that she loved him. He was to be King, and with that title came great power and responsibility. He was not to fret or fear though; his mother would be by his side throughout it all. Together they would rule the Seven Kingdoms.​
 
The moments before his mother left were some of the best moments he had ever spent with her. She told him that she loved him and that she would always be by his side. It made him feel safe and protected. It made him feel wanted. No longer was Joffrey outshining him or getting more affection from their parents. Sure, that was a horrible way of thinking, but at least Tommen would be looked after now. The only part that worried him was that she told him that they would rule the Seven Kingdoms together. Did she think that he could not rule by himself? Or just that she would be by his side to help him rule?

A little later on, the Grand Maester came by to teach him a bit about alchemy and a thing called 'Wildfire'. He knew it was used when they defended King's Landing against Stannis Baratheon, another uncle of his, but not much else. Pycelle stayed with him for a few hours, giving him books and telling him the different ways of how it was used, not all of which were battle-related. The old man finally left, but of course, he had left Tommen with homework. It was enough to last the next few days, so he wouldn't be able to finish it tonight. Deciding he may as well get it over and done with, he began to study and write, forgetting all about Margaery's intended visit for tonight.
 
MARGAERY

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Tommen's betrothed also spent a portion of her day with one of the more elderly residents in King's Landing, though unlike the Grand Maester, Olenna Tyrell was but a temporary resident, and soon would be on her way back to Highgarden. In the privacy of the Olive Gardens (if privacy was extant at all in the capital), Margaery's grandmother impressed upon her again the importance of winning the young king's heart. Cersei had found out about last night's visit, and that meant two things: that any and all future visits must be done so in secret, and that Cersei herself would now be more alert, and quite possibly more intent on turning her son against his bride-to-be.

"She'll have a hard time doing that," Margaery told her grandmother. "He likes me very much, and I am quite sure he trusts me."

"Well you'd better be sure," was the response, "because Cersei will stop at nothing to get her own way."

When Margaery came to Tommen that night, it was in blue and gold, her garments buckled with an antlered rose symbolising the union of houses Tyrell and Baratheon. She came also in the knowledge that Kingsguard would not allow word back to Cersei on this occasion. In fact, she was quite sure that the Queen Regent would not learn of her visit this time.

"Brother."

"Sister."

Loras and Margaery smiled and bowed their heads to one another, and with a furtive glance along the hallways to ensure that no-one else was nearby (for what was the good in secrets if someone else could call them out?) he opened the door to Tommen's room and allowed her inside. By now the sun was long gone from the sky, and Margaery wondered whether or not her groom would even be awake.

"Your Grace?" she called softly, stepping forth towards his bed chambers.​
 
Tommen was still at his desk, and at first glance it would seem he was still doing his homework. Look closer though, and it would show that he was in a very deep slumber. Well, that was until the door shut, announcing a visitor. Jumping awake, he blushed when he realised that Lady Tyrell had returned at last. Sitting up, he realised that he had drooled on his homework, so the boy hastily put a book on top of it to hide it.

"Lady Tyrell!" He said with a smile, hoping she didn't catch him sleeping. "How are you feeling today?" He asked, the smile dimming somewhat due to the nature of why she had been upset the previous night. A chair still remained in the same spot, as no one had moved it since their last encounter.
 
"Better, your Grace. Thank you. I am still dealing with the loss, but... I am better. And you?"

She paused a few feet from him, and there stood her ground. The candles by Tommen's side were almost out, and it appeared that he had been working all evening. Such diligence was admirable, but it could not be good for the eyes. Margaery could only assume that the weight of his impending kingship was weighing on him, and with it the expectations of the entirety of the Seven Kingdoms.​
 
"I'm.. recovering. But better than last night" He replied with a small smile. "Would you like to take a seat?" Tommen offered, gesturing to the seat beside him. Even through the dim lighting of the candle, Margaery could tell he was a bit tired and stressed. Her assumptions about his upcoming role as King weighing on him, as he needed to ensure he was not so bad that he gets poisoned like his brother. That would be a horrible way to go too. Being happy about holding the most respected position in the Seven Kingdoms, marrying a beautiful woman to make her Queen, and then dying publicly and with no way to stop it.
 
"Have you been working all evening?" Margaery asked, only after thanking him for his offer and taking a seat by his side, the chair turned so as to face him. "That can't be good for your eyes."

She smiled; the comment was merely a remark, and not intended to be suffocatingly motherly. Tommen had Cersei for that, and she could only imagine what it would be like to have the woman for a mother. She did not imagine it was a walk in the park. Her eyes scanned her future husband calmly but curiously; still a boy, but soon to be a man, and one whom she would soon come to know more intimately than before. It felt strange to be marrying someone younger than herself, but what must happen must happen, and she did not believe that Tommen would be a bad husband. There was something of his brother in his appearance; the fair, supple skin, and the golden hair. With the exception of Tyrion, it seemed that all Lannisters were good-looking, though she could not speak as to how good-looking Tywin was or was not in his youth. Tommen, though? Tommen would grow to be as attractive a man as his uncle Jaime, and that was a pleasant fact.
 
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