❝ 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 }
✧✦✧
𝕿he continuous tolling of the bells rung through Joffrey's mind, as his stomach twisted into knots. The last straps on his armour were being buckled up, the weight of it slowly pushing him down as he thought. Finally, Rolan, his personal steward stepped away and passed Joffrey his sword and helmet.
Strapping the belt around his waist, Joffrey took little comfort in the familiar weight of his sword on his waist. In fact, it did little to ease his nerves. Chewing on his lips, Joffrey left the room and began down the stairs towards the throne room, where he was sure that he was going to meet Tyrion.
Entering from the back doors of the hall, he saw that Tyrion was already there, talking to Lyra and her sister. She seemed to have a sixth sense for when he entered rooms, as Lyra looked up almost immediately and smiled. The sight of her smile normally served to calm his nerves, but his thoughts were rushing around his head far too fast for him to cling onto her smile and drag himself out again.
Perhaps his nerves read on his face, though he was sure that he had masked his face, for Lyra excused herself with a final bow of her head, and swept towards him. Her dress was in a dark Northern blue, his necklace glittering at her collarbone with every breath she took, and around her sleeves, his eyes could pick out a slight hint of gold, though it was gone the moment his thoughts rushed back to him.
"Leave us." Joffrey's voice sounded confident, but he was sure they could tell that he was not. The Kings Guard stepped away from him, as Lyra reached for his hand gently after a quick curtsy.
"Stay safe." She whispered, her grip tighter than normal as Joffrey nodded. "Come back to me in one piece."
"For you, I would cheat death," Joffrey replied, as more guards began to filter into the room, preparing to leave. "You also have to promise me that you will stay safe."
"The only threat to me in this castle is your mother, but I doubt she will kill me in front of all the ladies in the court," Joffrey shook his head, the thought worrying him, before Lyra smiled again. "I will be fine, Elia and Sansa are with me."
"I will come and find you when this is all over." Joffrey stated, before tightening his grip on his sword.
"Can I see it?" She motioned to his sword, as Joffrey hummed, unsheathing it. It had been in his possession since he was ten and three, and he had been deemed a good enough fighter. The hilt was made for his grip, gilded with gold and rubies, with a blade that he had obsessively sharpened for a few days to ensure it was at its strongest. His eyebrows furrowed wondering what she meant to do, before his eyes went wide as she leant down to press a kiss to the metal. "There. Now, you have a commitment to bring my kiss back to me."
