A Dragon In Wolf's Clothing ~A Game of Thrones fan fiction~

Chapter Sixteen: Loss

It had been six months since since Lyanna found out she was pregnant and she had slowly adjusted into life in King's Landing. She still longed to go back to the north and to see her brothers, but she knew that, as she was Joffrey's wife, she could always ask for a visit. Even if he didn't want her to, she couldn't be stopped when she was queen.

For the past few days, rumours had been flying around about Lady Stark taking Tyrion Lannister as a captive. They were only rumours, but part of it seemed like it would be truth. Lyanna had no idea why she thought that, but she didn't spend much time dwelling on it, as there was another rumor flying around; her father had resigned as hand of the king. She wasn't sure if this was true either, but she never got chance to ask him, as he was never around long.

That night, Joffrey ran his hand up and down Lyanna's bare back as they laid in bed together. Lyanna could see the sun beginning to set over King's Landing through the silk curtains. She could hear the singing and shouting from the streets and knew that it would be a noisy night; she hadn't had a good nights sleep since she had gotten to the rats nest of King's Landing.

Her stomach had swelled quite a lot over the last five months and it had gotten on her nerves. None of her clothes fit anymore and she couldn't train because the bump was in the way. Joffrey seemed to love her bump though. He had his hands resting against it while he kissed her, and though she was exhausted she was kissing him back, her hands holding his neck as they laid side by side. When they were like that, he seemed much easier to deal with.

There was a loud knock at the door, like a fist was banging against the heavy oak. Lyanna pulled away, glancing at the door, knowing that it had to be important given the time, though before she could get up and answer, Joffrey put his hand on her cheek, moving her face for her to look at him. 

"Ignore it," Joffrey muttered. The knocking persisted to the point where they couldn't ignore it anymore.

Lyanna sighed, pushing Joffrey away from her as she struggled to get up, her bump weighing her down. She grabbed the white night dress which she had thrown on her dressing table chair a few hours previous and pulled on over her naked body before slipping a black cloak over it. She opened the door to see Vayon Poole, her father's steward. His face was a picture of nerves which told Lyanna straight away that something was wrong.

"Poole, what's wrong?" she asked, frowning at him.

"Tell whoever it is to piss off,," Joffrey called to her, making her flush red from annoyance.

"Its your father, my lady," he gasped out to her, Lyanna's heart flipping slightly at his words. She felt the babe inside her kicked at her and her hand went to her bump immediately. "He's hurt badly. One of the Kingslayer's men put a spear through his leg,"

Lyanna heard Joffrey get up and stand behind her. "That is my uncle your talking about, do you want your tongue cut out?"

"Joffrey!" Lyanna exclaimed, spinning to face him. "Didn't you hear what he said? My father is hurt and you think now is the time for threats?" She glared at him before turning back to Poole. She saw his face look over hers nervously and she knew that there was something he wasn't telling her. "What are you hiding from me Poole? There's something you aren't telling me isn't there?"

"Jory... he's dead," his words hit her hard and she felt a pain in her chest as she processed his words. Jory, why did he, of all the people, have to die? She had always liked Jory and they were always friendly with each other. She had always felt closer to him than to anyone else in her father's household staff.

"How did he die?" She asked, anger in her voice. She felt tears threaten to appear and she didn't dare try to stop them from falling. When Poole didn't answer her, she felt the anger grow inside her and furious tears flowed down her reddened cheeks. "Where's my father?"