Game Of Thrones : Starting as Tommen Baratheon

"A commendable goal, if a poor attempt at reaching it. The girl leaves a trail of blood in her wake." Tommen frowned and narrowed his eyes, "Meereen? Are there any rumours of her in Meereen?"

Varys frowned, very clearly making it seem as though he were deep in thought, "A couple, Your Grace."

...

Tommen did not seem convinced that that was all Varys knew, but if he suspected anything, he said nothing of it, "Hmm." At that moment, Tyrion arrived in the chambers, shooting Jaime a look as he walked in, and Tommen addressed him, "Uncle Tyrion, how are you?"

Tyrion shot Kevan a look as he responded, "Well enough, nephew. Much as I enjoy captivity, I find that freedom suits me better. It's much more... pleasurable."

Tommen smiled, "That is good to hear, Uncle. In any case, I am in need of a Master of Coin, and I happen to note that in spite of your acquittal, you have yet to attend a Small Council meeting since your trial. No matter the reason, I expect you here at every meeting hence, understood?"

Tyrion claimed a seat on the far side of the table, dragged it near to where Jaime was sat, hopped up onto it, and nodded, "Yes, Your Grace."

"Given your absence from the Small Council, I will give you a week to reacquaint yourself with the Crown's finances. After that, we can get to work."

Tyrion nodded, but before he could reply, Bronn came walking in, "You called for me?"

"Yes, Bronn, I did. From what I can gather, you have fought for the crown loyally, yes?"

"Aye, durin' the riots and the Battle of the Blackwater. Lord Tywin made me a knight for it."

Tommen nodded, "Well, Ser Bronn, your services are required in a similar capacity now. I could use your talents as my commander of the City Watch and the gold cloaks."

Bronn nodded and accepted the post as though he had been expecting it, with all too much dignity for a man of his station. This was planned, Jaime realised. Tommen means to make the gold cloaks his red cloaks. Why else put his killer in charge of them? Kevan made to object to the appointment, but Tommen cut him off in a tone that brokered no argument. At that tone, Jaime felt a shiver run through his spine. It ought to have sounded ridiculous, given that Tommen's voice had not fully deepened yet, but somehow he managed to make it intimidating.

Though many of the lords silently bristled at having a man of such low birth sit at the table as though he were one of their equals, the combination of the King's gaze and Bronn's sword bouncing merrily away on his hip was deterrent enough to make them keep their peace. Jaime watched Bronn with narrowed eyes, and the sellsword found his gaze and met it with a cheeky grin. I'm watching you, Jaime thought. A tense silence reigned till eventually Lord Paxter arrived, "Your Grace."

"Ah, Lord Paxter." Tommen eyed the man critically, observing his facial features before he spoke, "How fare Horas and Hobber, my lord? Are they well?"

Paxter eyed Tommen back, understanding the threat inherent in his words, and spoke only after a lengthy pause, "Yes, Your Grace. My sons are well."

Tommen nodded, "I am gladdened to hear it, my lord, but I did not call you all this way to talk of your sons. Should you want it, I have a place in my Small Council for you, not just as the mere advisor that you are now, but as my Master of Ships."

There was no doubt in Jaime's mind that Mace would have objected to being replaced, but he was not present, and so, he could do no such thing. Paxter needed only a moment to consider the offer. He bowed as he spoke, "I would be honoured, Your Grace."

Tommen gestured for Paxter to sit, and once he was sat, Tommen said, "I have a task for you, Lord Paxter. Thanks to Lord Varys, it has recently come to my attention that the seat of Dragonstone has been left sparsely defended by my Uncle Stannis, who has left for the Wall, supposedly to make war with the Wildlings."

Paxter caught on quickly enough, "You wish for me to take Dragonstone?"

Tommen nodded, "Ideally within the next three months. It is a speedy capture I am looking for, not a lengthy siege. Gather however many ships and men you feel necessary for the task, and prepare yourself to launch an invasion." Paxter nodded, "In addition to this, I think it right to warn you not to take your entire fleet to Dragonstone. The Ironmen are ever a tricksy lot, and if Dragonstone does become a siege, I should not wish for the Reach to be left exposed to their raids. The exact number you leave behind, I'll leave to your discretion. After all, you would know better than me."

Paxter nodded again, and Tommen stood from his seat, slowly walking around the table as he spoke, "Before we bring this meeting of the Small Council to a close, I thought it best to inform you all of something. I am not my father, who cared not for the business of ruling in favour of drinking and whoring and warring. Neither am I my brother, who was more interested in torturing little girls than in the of the business of this Council."

Many of the lords began shooting strange looks at each other at this open disparagement of the late King, but Tommen did not let it stop him. He raised his tone slightly for a moment to regain their attention, and ploughed on, "I intend on ruling, and ruling well. As such, I will work you all hard, perhaps harder than many of you have worked before. And I will be working right alongside you all." Those words were thick with hidden meaning, and everyone seemed to Jaime to understand this.

The King is watching.

There was a moment of silence, and Tyrion saw fit to fill it, "A lovely speech, Your Grace. Truly."

Varys chimed in, speaking with a theatrical flourish, "Indeed. It fills our hearts all with hope to hear it."

Tommen's gaze stayed cool, unmoved by flattery, "You are all dismissed."

There was a clattering of wood on stone as all the attending lords of the Small Council rose from their seats and made to leave. Less than half had attended this particular session, but Jaime did not doubt that every single member would attend the next.

Kevan shot Tommen an approving look, and left without a word, likely to report this new development to his brother. Jaime felt himself shudder at Tommen's gaze. It just felt... wrong, somehow, to see it coming from a child. He couldn't quite put his finger on it when, all of a sudden, it struck him.

Oh Gods, Jaime thought, I know what kind of King Tommen will be.

He will be Lord Tywin with a crown.

...

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