❝ You and I against the world, my love. Let us bring it to it's knees. ❞
Even the gods were not able to defeat Lyra Stark and Joffrey Baratheon, for once they put their minds to a cause, the gods were forced to step aside and let them past.
QUEENS...
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{ Lyra }
✧✦✧
𝕴t was the sound of swords clashing together that brought Lyra out onto the wooden walkways. She had spent most of the day in her room, reading a variety of books that were needed for her lessons, but when the boys started training, she went out to watch.
She opened the doors to the balcony, stepping outside and leaning against the wooden railing. Her room overlooked the central courtyard, something she had always liked. She hated when it was quiet and enjoyed being in the thick of the action. Jon was sitting atop one of the fences, dressed in his worn armour, Theon by his side. The pair were whispering, watching the fight closely as Lyra looked around to see who else was in the courtyard.
Elia came to slump over her feet, huffing at the sound of the wooden swords smacking together as Lyra listed off everyone she knew. There were Baratheon soldiers and Lannister guards mingling with the Starks. There was barely an inch of space in the stables and the kennels were full, as the men had been hunting the day before.
In the centre of the courtyard, the fight continued.
The prince was sparring with her eldest brother, and seemingly holding him off remarkably well. Robb was struggling, and Lyra could see his face was red with exertion from a storey up. The prince's face was blank, barely a hint of struggle seen, as he dodged Robb's blow and swung his own sword at Robb's leg. The moment before he hit, he changed direction, bringing the sword up, as if going for Robb's throat. Her brother jumped back, trying to whack the blond prince around the head.
"You seem a bit preoccupied." Lyra jumped, starting as her father appeared beside her. "I knocked."
"I am sorry, father. I did not hear you." Lyra muttered, blushing at the fact she had been caught staring. "My work is all done and I have finished those accounts Mother asked me to look at."
Her father merely waved her off, leaning beside as they watched the fight. The prince had spun around behind Robb, smacking him in the back with the flat of his sword as Robb groaned and stumbled.
"He fight well, good control with a sword." Her father noted, as Lyra leant back beside him.
"He is better than Robb." Father nodded, and Lyra delighted in that notion. She would have to mention it to Robb later.
They fell silent, as Lyra spun one of her rings around her finger. Her father had gifted it to her when she had pouted at Robb receiving a Stark signet ring. For her nameday that year, he had gifted her a silver ring, fashioned to look like a Stark wolf constantly running around her finger. It had been one of her most treasured possessions since.
