❝ 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 }
✧✦✧
𝕿he city of King's Landing was much like the prince had described it. It was hot. A sort of stifling hot, that made it hard to breathe. Every time Lyra inhaled, the air weighed heavily in her lungs, and the smell around her only made that worse.
The stench was like nothing that she had ever smelled before. It was a mixture of despair, rotting food, animals, and sweat all crammed together. Lyra had been near carcasses that reeked less than this and she fought to keep her face straight. It would not do well to show her disgust at the smell of the city she would be living in for the rest of her days.
Lyra rode by her father, her dapple grey horse now tired from the ride. Yet, as they entered the city gates, Blanche perked up, bringing Lyra closer to her father. Lyra had changed from her riding clothes at their last stop, into something slightly finer, as was expected of the eldest Stark daughter and the prince's betrothed.
The Red Keep was a goliath of a building. It was far larger than Winterfell, towering over the city and staring down at it, each window like an eye. Unlike the rest of the city, the architecture of the Red Keep spoke of a time long before. Lyra was reminded of that old tale she knew about seeing all of the Red Keep's candles burning in the windows. It was so different to all of her thoughts, and those stories did it little justice.
"I had the same reaction when I first saw it," Lyra glanced over at her father, who was watching her reaction as they travelled through the lower parts of the city. People lined the streets, watching and whispering as they looked upon the direwolf banner. "The Red Keep seems even larger when you are actually beneath it."
"It makes Winterfell seem small," Lyra's neck hurt from how much the young woman was looking up, craning to try and see the tallest spires. "I think I am going to get lost."
Her father chuckled quietly as they reached one of the next gates. This lead into a courtyard, surrounded by warm red walls. Unlike Winterfell, with it sharp architecture and Stark grey stone, the Red Keep was warm and green, ivy and plants spilling from the battlements, trees lining the walkways, which were open for all to see.
Attendants were waiting behind every column, and lining up to take their horses and belongings up to their rooms. Lyra truly had to remind herself to keep her jaw closed, wondering whether it was proper for her to be seen looking so in shock at the opulence of everything.
