❝ 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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{ Joffrey }
✧✦✧
𝕵offrey stared at the door in front of him, contemplating whether this was even a good idea. He did not want to step inside of the room, knowing that his uncle sat on the other side. Tyrion Lannister held little love for him, and Joffrey was unsure of what this meeting would entail.
The smell of wine crept up from the bottom of the door, curling around him as Joffrey scowled, contempt marring his expression as he fought the urge to turn and run.
But, Lyra had pleaded with him that morning to at least speak to his uncle. Tyrion was supposed to be handling the defence of Kings Landing, and Stannis Baratheon was almost upon them. Joffrey needed to protect his city and his people, and Tyrion, despite all his faults, was his best option.
He knocked quickly, before he could change his mind, and the heavy door was yanked opened by a surprised looking sellsword. He had been introduced as Bronn, when he had arrived in Kings Landing with Tyrion, who had then made him the Commander of the City Watch, but Joffrey had never needed to speak to the man. No words were said, as Joffrey fought the urge to scowl and roll his eyes, knowing better than to display his displeasure on his face.
"Bronn." The sellsword suddenly seemed to remember who he was speaking too, bowing deeply at the king.
"Your Grace." Bronn pulled the door open further, turning to look further into the room. "Lord Lannister, it is your nephew. The king."
Tyrion's head shot up from his desk, a goblet of wine ahead of him, as Joffrey stepped into the room. He did not wish to be here, but Tyrion was supposed to be a good future ally, so Joffrey would make do.
"To what do I owe the pleasure of your company, Your Grace." Joffrey tensed further, sitting down in the chair offered to him as he tried not to scowl at the sweet smell of wine. It was heavy in the air.
He hated that drink.
"I thought that I should talk to you about the preparations that we are making for Stannis' fleet. They said you were in charge of our city's defence, so..." Tyrion nodded, still looking shocked as Joffrey raised an eyebrow and waited for him to continue. He had not said anything rude, so he could not understand Tyrion's surprise.
"We can talk about..." There was a pause as another knock sounded at the door, and Varys swept in with no invitation. If he was surprised to see Joffrey in the room opposite his uncle, he did not show it. Perhaps his little birds had already told him where the young king was. Instead the man bowed, and began to speak.
