Request: anon asked “I was wondering if you would write one for Tommen Baratheon were the reader and him are really close, both having feelings for each other but Tommen is unsure if breaking a bond with the Tyrell's will cause out-rage and you are too shy and insecure but he finally makes up his mind to drop the betrothal and tells his mum (who is overjoyed) and rushes to tell you, but you have literally fallen fatally ill and the maesters don't know if you'll live or die so he spends time showing love to you. Thx!”
and another anon asked “I am literal trash for this idea... But I have a HUGEE annoying crush on Tommen and I was wondering if you could possibly write one were the reader is whom Tommen becomes engaged too/ his best friend and out of anger and feelings of betrayal , Maragarey attempts kill the reader with the same posion that killed Joff, but Cersei now carries and attidote around out of fear so she is able to save her, Tommen rushes to Y/n and fluff fluff please!!! Thank you very much”
Warnings: serious illness, assassination attempt
Word Count: 1581
Notes: that moment when ur computer keeps autocorrecting tommen to tome...changed up some of the request in a couple minor ways. enjoy!
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You squealed when the cat nuzzled up to your nose. His tail fluttered around your arms as you carried him over to your best friend’s bedchambers.
Two guards were by the doors, and when they saw you, they nodded and moved aside. One opened the door for you, and you entered.
Tommen looked up from where he was sitting at his desk. At the sight of you, he smiled.
“(Y/N), you found him!”
He ran up to you, and you laughed before handing Ser Pounce over to him. “He was in the kitchens, eating the leftovers on the floor.” You tickled the cat’s belly and heard him purr.
Tommen sat down at his chair again, rubbing behind his cat’s ears. You took a seat on top of the desk, and looked down at the papers on it.
His signature was already on a few of them. “What are you up to? Important king stuff?”
“It’s all so boring. And some of these people are so greedy. They expect too mu-”
He stopped talking when you saw a paper that had the Tyrell name in bold print at the top. You picked it up, playing with the corners of it, and tried not to show him how upset you were.
“Is this for the wedding?” you asked.
“No. But I haven’t signed that one either.”
You put the paper back down onto his desk. “Why not? She’s so beautiful. And her family will make great allies.”
“I don’t want an ally,” he said softly. He stood up, and now you were looking up at him. “I want to get married for love. But, kings can’t do that. And I don’t want to disrespect the Tyrells.”
That only made it hurt more. “For love? You love someone?”
He nodded, and you saw his face turn a light shade of pink. “But I’m not sure if my mother would let me marry her.”
“Who is it?” Part of you didn’t want to know. Depending on who it was, your heart might break all over again like the day his engagement to Margaery was announced.
His face turned even darker, and he looked at the floor awkwardly. “Um, actually, it’s you, (Y/N).”
Now your face turned pink. You didn’t say anything for a few seconds, leading him to look up at you with fear in his eyes. You smiled at him and jumped off the desk to hug him tightly.
His arms went around you slowly. “I love you too, Tommen.”
Tommen sighed, and his arms tightened around your waist. When you let go, you saw the bright smile on his face. “I think I’ll talk to my mother. You’re of noble blood, I’m sure an alliance with your family would be just as good as one with the Tyrells. Come with me to talk to her.”
“No, no, I can’t. I’m too shy, Tommen,” you replied.
“So? You’ve been my closest friend for years now. I think you’re one of the few people she actually likes.”
You laughed at that, but then shook your head. “I’ll wait in the courtyard. After you talk to her, come back and tell me what she says.”
“Alright.” He put away some of the papers on his desk. When he finished organizing, you leaned over and placed a small kiss on his cheek.
Your face was bright red. “Thank you.”
He smiled, kissed you on your cheek, and took your hand. You both walked out of his room together before separating.
You waved to Tommen and sat down in a chair under an umbrella in the courtyard. He waved back to you, and saw a servant bring you a cup of water right before he went inside to talk to his mother.
He found her in her room, sitting down in front of a vanity and opening the drawers to find something. She didn’t turn around when she heard the doors open.
“Mother?” he called out to her.
Cersei turned to see her son and smiled at him. She stood up and walked over to him. “Yes?”
“I, um,” he stammered. How would he put this? “I don’t think I should marry Margaery.”
Something flashed in her eyes, but her voice was flat when she replied to him. “Why?”
Tommen swallowed. “I’m in love with (Y/N). Her family is noble too. We don’t need an alliance with the Tyrells if we can form one with her house.”
Cersei smiled at her son, then laughed. Tommen shuffled in place nervously before she put her arms on his shoulders and stroked his cheek with one hand.
“I think that sounds like a wonderful idea.”
He didn’t have time to feel relief before guards stormed into the room.
“Your Grace! The Lady (Y/N) has fallen ill and requests your presence in her chambers.”
Tommen ran faster than he ever did before.
Cersei was asked to wait outside since you’d only asked for Tommen. When he walked in, he saw you laying down on your bed, face a grim shade of purple.
“No, (Y/N). Please,” he cried. He sat down in the chair next to your bed, and the only other person in the room, Maester Pycelle, sighed before speaking.
“She was poisoned, Your Grace. By Tyrell men. Some kind of variation of the strangler, the same poison used to kill your brother. It acts much more slowly. It may be a few days.”
“Is there any way to heal her?” Tommen grabbed your hand.
The Grand Maester coughed. “I had an antidote. Not anymore. I’ve sent ravens to any maester who may have some.”
He left the room then, leaving Tommen alone with you. Tommen felt himself start to cry as he clutched your hand in his.
“You can’t die, (Y/N). My mother gave us her blessing. You can’t die before we’re wed.”
He rubbed his wet eyes with the hand that wasn’t holding yours. “We can have the wedding you’ve always dreamed of. Even though I’m king and I’m supposed to have a huge feast, we can get married in a small ceremony. You’ve always wanted that.”
Tommen stayed with you for another hour, only leaving when two guards came to escort him to his room to go to sleep. When he left, his mother was gone.
Two days passed, and Tommen spent them by your side. You’d wake up, he knew it. Flowers were around your bed, and Ser Pounce was curled up at your feet to greet you when you woke.
“But Myrcella had no idea, so I won anyway,” he said softly. “Maybe after we’re married, we can have children who play games with their sisters like I did.”
His hand never left yours, and he told you stories every day. They were stories of his past and your future together. You couldn’t hear them, but it didn’t matter to Tommen. Maybe his voice would still wake you up.
The door opened, and he saw his mother rush in. She held a small bottle in her hands, and one of her household guards followed after her.
She ran over by your side. “I found it, Tom. The antidote.”
He almost had a heart attack. “What? How?”
“After they killed Joff, I stole it from Maester Pycelle out of fear that they’d kill you. I hid it somewhere, and I finally found it. Help me open her mouth.”
Your face was a darker shade of purple than two days ago, but Tommen tried to not focus on that. He held your jaw in one hand and tried to pry it open with the other. Cersei slipped in the liquid through your parted lips.
“It should work. Slowly, but it should work,” his mother told him.
Tommen almost cried of happiness. “Thank you, mother.”
She leaned over to him and kissed his forehead before leaving with her guard.
Minute by minute, Tommen watched your face as your normal color returned. Finally, you looked normal again. He started to cry, and buried his face in the pillow next to yours.
“Tommen?”
His head flew off the bed, and he saw you. Your eyes were heavy, but open, and your croaky voice had just spoken his name.
He moved too fast for you to see, but soon you felt his arms wrap around you. You let out a small grunt when he squeezed you too hard, but softly rubbed his arm with your hand.
“(Y/N), you’re alive,” he cried into your neck.
You placed a soft kiss on his hair. “Not for long if you choke the life out of me.”
He laughed softly at you, then separated from your body. You looked into his blue eyes and smiled shyly at him.
“I talked to my mother. We’re going to be married, (Y/N),” he said with a bright smile on his gentle face.
You smiled brightly and hugged him again, and when you let go, kissed him sweetly on his lips for the first time.
He didn’t leave your side that night, even though you were already awake. Instead, his guards stood outside your door while you both slept beside each other, not as best friends, but as fiancés.
