LITTLE DRAGONESS || T. Baratheon

) chapter 15. (

) chapter 15. (

THE next day Tommen arrived early at her room, almost catching Laeherys as she looks for escapes in the room.. and memories of her brother Rhaegar.

She was looking for anything that showed her the history, the feelings or the spirit of her deceased brother. Something so she could connect with him. Unfortunately, she didn't find anything yet.

Laeherys jumps up when she hears the guard outside her door. "My Lady, His Grace asks for you." The young girl rushes to the table with her mirror and begins to brush her, once again, dyed black locks, not to raise suspicion by Tommen.

"Let him in, please," she replies once she calmed her heart and stabilized her voice. One of the two double doors is pushed open and Tommen strolls in. The crown of the Baratheons stands on his flat, blonde hair and his eyes shine like emeralds. The clothes he wears are not too over the top: some breeches, a tunic and an overcoat, the coat tightened with laces up front.

The young King smiles at her and holds his arm out for her. "We have lots to do today, love. Picking our wedding decorations, your dress and jewelry, the food- everything, really. Not only that, we need to plan the coronation of the next day as well."

Laeherys stands up from her chair and grabs his arm. She knows it will be better if she just does as he asks and act enthusiastic about their upcoming royal wedding.

The two walk out of her bedchambers and stroll through the corridors of the castle to the room where the Small Council always meets. Tommen's family was there, except Jaime Lannister. She hasn't seen the Kingslayer in a while, at least not since the coronation of Tommen. Laeherys was curious as to where the man was.

Cersei wears a green dress this time, which matches her green eyes. Her hair was flowing downwards like water. Even after all these years, she was still a very beautiful woman. Next to her sits Tywin, the Hand, and Mace, the now Master of Coin. He was to watch over the state treasury.

Tommen helps her into a chair and he sits down in a similar one next to hers. His hand engulfs hers on the arm rests, holding it tightly. "Mother, grandfather, uncle.. Lord Tyrell, Lady Tyrell, Ser Loras.. Lady Margaery," Tommen says, aknowledging every person in the room. He was still a little hesitant at speaking to Lady Margaery, who he had ditched for her hand in marriage.

Yet the girl smiles that wicked, seductive smiles of her that can make almost every man bow down to her will.  Tommen nods and looks at his family. "Where do we start with the planning, mother?" Queen-Mother Cersei smiles and starts listing off the people who would come to do whatever was needed.

"First three of the best seamstresses of King's Landing will come to show some of their creations. Whomever your.. lady likes the best, will design her wedding dress. Same will be for you, my boy. Then there will be some local bakers for the wedding cake and other pastries, you will need to instruct our cooks for other food and drinks and..-"

Cersei was going on and on with her list while Laeherys slowly drifted off with her thoughts. Only later, when Tommen squeezes her hand so tightly that she knows he did it to get her attention back, she focused again. The Queen-Mother claps in her hands one time and the doors open to reveal three women: one young girl with honey blonde hair and mischievious blue eyes, an older woman who seemed to come from Dorne with her olive skintone and dark tint to her silver hair and a middle-aged woman who hides her hair beneath a scarf.

They each hold a gown, hidden beneath a dark cloak. They bow for the King and his family, then the blonde girl steps forward. "My King, my lady.. lords and ladies, this is one of my creations. I hope that your bethroted will like it, your Grace," she says, before revealing a long gown. It is cream coloured, probably tight fitted seeing the form with wide skirts. The sleeves were.. quite big, to say the least. Laeherys can see that over-the-top is exactly her style.

"Do you like it, my sweet," Tommen asks, pressing a kiss on their entwined hands. The Targaryen shrugs. "It is pretty, but I don't really like.. over-the-top."

Cersei rolls her eyes, but before she could snap something distasteful at the girl, Tywin speaks. "A royal wedding is over-the-top.. my lady. The wedding dress of the Queen is something people will remember for years, so it has to be perfect and unique."

"A perfect and unique dress can also be more plain, my Lord," she says. The seamstress' smile cracks for a moment, only to be replaced by a more perfect porcelain mask. "As you wish, my lady. I am also very capable of making more simple-" But Tommen interrupts her.

"My betrothed does not like your style of dresses, so please step back in line and let the next woman step forward," he orders, making a short gesture with his hand. Everyone looks at their Boy King with surprise. Tommen was always very kind to everyone and even a little naive, so his sudden agression towards the seamstress was unexpected.

The girl quickly steps aside and the woman with the scarf walks forward, showing the future Queen of Westeros a thin and revealing gown, most likely made for the climate in the Reach. Yet here, in King's Landing, it was not fitted. Tommen seemed to dislike the fact that this dress would make his bride almost bare in front of the royal guests as well, and so she wouldn't make the dress as well.

"Last, please," he says, waving the Dornish woman over. Everyone stares at the brown cloak she has over the dress, wondering what it would look like. The cloak was removed and all gasped. The Lannisters and Tyrells probably mostly of shock and Laeherys in admiration.

The gown was beautiful! It was fitted around the waist, flowing down from just above the hips to the ground, a long trail following behind. But the colour.. it was red. Bloodred, the kind of red of the Targaryen sigil. And the fabric was a little rough, not really leather but quite like it. It was made for House Targaryen, Laeherys was sure of it.

"It's beautiful, how did you come with the idea of it," the girl asks as she studies the beautiful golden embroidery stiched on it. You could speculate it was made for House Lannister, but in everyone's gut they could feel that was not the case, which explains the reactions.

"I heard of your heritage, my lady, and had this dress laying around on which I worked very hard. I had hoped to gift it to Princess Elia once she married the Dragon Prince, but I never got the time." Laeherys smiles at the woman and reaches her hand out to grab the dress, but the Queen-Mother swats her hand.

"We do not appreciate a Targaryen dress," the woman spits out with venom," especially not for my son's bride, no matter what her heritage might be. She is nothing for now, with no single drop of Targaryen blood if any questions asked. From the day she is married to my son, she will be a Baratheon," Cersei hisses. She clearly dispises the Targaryens, making Laeherys squirm in her seat.

Tommen squeezes her hand softly. "If you like the sort of dresses she makes, you can choose her to make your wedding dress. But, you will not take this dress." Laeherys puts her chin up and looks away. "I like the dress, it shows off the only sort of heritage I know."

Lady Tyrell quickly shushes the situation and the Dornish woman with mischievious smile was chosen to make the wedding dress, after a lot of discussing with the Lannisters that is. Laeherys sighs as she asks what comes next. It was the food for the wedding.

This day will be filled with discussions and annoyance, the girl sighs.

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1379 words.